A rather odd thing happened yesterday evening. I was sitting down after a long day in the woods working on my latest project and decided to start reading the Wall Street Journal Weekend Edition (granted a tad late considering it was dropped off Saturday morning). The odd part was the Journal had a huge section in W about the old Warner Brothers Cartoons. Yes, they were stereotypical. Yes, they were violent. But Chuck Jones, and to a lesser extent Friz Freleng, were geniuses in their own right.

Laws of physics were broken. Genders transcended. Time and space were thrown to the wind. It was perfect. Picturing bugs riding on the back of that fat horse with the tiny legs in "What's Opera Doc" will forever be ingrained in my brain, frame by frame, and conjured during those long meetings where seemingly endless discussions lead to action items and liens. A semi-silent "Kill the Wabbit..." can be stolen from the wind under my breath as meetings droll on.

Just don't forget your spear and magic helmet on the way to the board room, because it might just be Duck Season.

FIRE!

There he leans:
cracking wise,
biting his bright orange carrot
bugging the world

speed demon
ventriloquist
and master of disguise
his is everywhere at once

buck-toothed
and spectacularly eared
he is armed with dynamite

his is the only one
who really knows what's up.

-- Billy Collins