The old tongue twister goes:
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
The philosophical ramifications of asking such an existential question without any hope of a reasonable conclusion has kept me up at nights. Well, that while sitting by the PlayStation getting to a good save point on Mass Effect: Andromeda.
Why do we cause such undo strain on the mental faculties of our young people by posing such insurmountable conundrums? I read the tongue twister to my teenage daughter who pointed out that it’s stupid and makes no sense before going back to texting about the newest girl-drama in her life. So much for the strain of insurmountable conundrums. I’m not even sure she looked up from Snapchat to consider the consequences of woodchucks chucking wood.
That being said, I have spent an inordinate amount of time (meaning more than 5 seconds) considering the possibilities of groundhogs gracefully hurling firewood at all kinds of things. I personally think they would throw oak at otters because they are jealous that otters are just woodchuck on diets who can swim. They would throw birch at beavers until they saw the beavers liked it. And lastly, they would cast sugar maple at squirrels just because they could… if they could… which they can’t.
After careful study and hours of research, I believe I can answer the question of “how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” with another question.
“How many moose would a mini-mouse move if a mini-mouse could move moose?”
That opens a whole new can of worms… or mice.. or moose… mooses… meese… I’m getting a headache.