Little Bo Peep is Losing Her Sheep!

I admit it : my political concerns have taken a backseat to a rising, quite pressing issue, that quite frankly, deserves far more national coverage than it is currently getting.

The particular breed of goats that produce (grow?!) cashmere are perishing, by the hundreds, due to unexpectedly heavy winter weather, blanketing their feeding pastures. 600 of them have already died, and thousands more will undoubtedly starve. Honestly! Here we are, worried about whether or not a black president faces a greater liklihood of assasignation from terrorists, when the worlds most limited source of luxury wool is dying! Perhaps, those non-cashmere wearing CA dwelling folk, whose coats surface in mere 50 degree temps might find this less worrisome: take if from me. From the frozen tundra of the Northeast. This is a great tragedy. A tragedy of monumental proportions.

We need to call in the Red Cross. The United Nations. A famous shepard. Something.

We, the greatest nation on Earth, (though doesn’t EVERY nation think they’re the greatest? I really don’t see, say, Germany running around saying we’re the freaking greatest nation on Earth, but I digress) need to step in here. Afterall, we’ll stick our Better Than Thou nose in just about any other crisis around the world with very little if any invitation, yet we’re just standing by, allowing all these lovely, soft, beautiful Sweaters To Be simply perish. Why is it that Brangalina can take on some small unpronouncable country and provide shelter, food, a sustainable economy source - yes, she is teaching them to grow sunflowers, and sell off the seeds - yet she refuses to step up to the plate and bring those goats to warmer, grass lined pastures - which is shocking because I KNOW that she wears cashmere.

The death and destruction of the worlds largest source of cashmere does, indeed, if one puts ones mind to it, have a political connection. Afterall, if the goats die, and sweaters become limited - coats as well, gloves, boot linings, scarves - then disease will spread through the now fully chilled population, causing higher incidence of influenza, a run on flu shots, resulting in a skyrocketing demand for hospitalized medical care, and, (see my point here?) dismantling the platform on which our Hopeful President’s To Be are currently parading.

Oh, fine. So maybe it’s the harsh winter weather freezing what’s left of my brain cells, leaving me locking into a conspiracy theory of my own making - but mark my words. Less cashmere = End of the World.

You know, with so many people up in arms over cloning beef cattle, perhaps, we should confine ourselves to cloning beings we’ve successfully cloned before, and, those that could powerfully, politically impact our world.

We should clone cashmere goats.

I’ll have the first ever head of cloned goats - Cardigan, and Pullover, who will in turn breed , Crew Neck, and his gay brother, Argyle. I will be elected the first woman president, who not only ended our national debate on reforming health care, but, be voted the best dressed president we’ve ever had.

And I’ll do it all, with my prize winning cloned cashmere goats