One of the longest winters on record has drawn to a close. As the snow melts away and warm breezes begin blowing through the new season, the American people will begin the slow process of healing themselves from the psychological and spiritual ravages of the coldest and hardest months. In or-der for this heal-ing process to be carried out as quickly as pos-sible, The Onion appeals to the citizenry to do their duty by taking a good, long, deep breath; rolling up their sleeves; and getting to work on their fucking.
For nearly half a year we have been cooped up inside, usually with the same few people, rebreathing the same stale air and wearing too many bulky clothes. The slow hands of despair have crushed our hearts in a deathgrip of windchill and the soul–killing reek of unwashed scarves. Now, spring is here, bringing with it the most fuck-conducive weather there is. When the air is narcotically fresh and warm but the ground is lousy with mud and thawing dog crap, it’s time to go back inside, throw those windows open, tear those stifling dusty blankets off the bed, and commence fucking! You’ll be glad you did.
Everyone knows that, for pure fun, you can’t beat the simple good times to be had while fucking. There are few thoughts the human mind enjoys thinking as much as, “Hey! It’s spring and I’m fucking!” Awkward differences between individuals disappear when those people take to fucking, and suddenly little things like divergent musical tastes, conflicting political philosophies or incompatible peer groups don’t seem to matter a tinker’s damn. What matters is the jolly fucking and the fact that the snow has gone away. Life can be reduced to its essentials and a sense of perspective can be regained, all thanks to the power of fucking.
In our national struggle to end the winter doldrums, we must not ignore the fact that the power of fucking and the healing power of spring are actually one and the same. Chaucer, Thoreau, and Winston Churchill each praised the power of spring in his own time, but their praise is really meant to celebrate the transcendent power of fucking in a world magically changed by the seasons. All of nature feels the call of spring whispered softly in the ears of beast and bird alike: “Spring is here– let’s fuck!” For much of nature, this is a method of replacing members of the species lost over the long winter. Fortunately, our species has recently advanced to the point where we are no longer required to use fucking for purely reproductive purposes. Properly executed, fucking is a celebration of life akin to spring itself. We are truly fortunate to be able to include fucking in the bag of tricks which makes us human.
Please, take the afternoon off, take out those storm windows, take off your clothes, and fuck! None of this smarmy “lovemaking,” please, and none of that brutish “porking,” either. Just good old athletic fucking, thank you very much!
Now, get fucking, citizens, and put an end to this spiritual malaise that threatens to end our very way of life.