Somewhere between the realms of loss, ignorance and denial exists an astral plane upon which we smear the finest of intellectual road apples.  An activity exists there which we must call imaginary disappearances.  For quite sometime, we all have gotten used to the disposable nature of our society, disposable cups, disposable cameras, disposable feminine napkins, disposable Liza Minelli celebrity impersonators, disposable evidence, disposable intellect, disposable perpetual underclass...its gotten so there is very little about this life that is worth holding onto (with of course the exception of happy meal toys and Pirates Of The Carribean II action figures tucked away neatly in the original packaging).  We spend more on sports than we do on education so its good that we dont seem to care much about losing things because we are in the process of losing it all. 

Much of that dictum is being happily sped along by the use of imaginary disappearances, occurrences that we believe to be random acts of nature which steal away important people, places and things, but are actually born of a specific design to create a diabolical society hell bent on shopping to relive the pain and inexplicable futility of its place in the world.  Ooops, Ive said too much.  Theres a knock on my door.  Its legendary NBA All-Star center for the New York Knicks, Willis Reed.  Willis, why have you come to visit me and at such a late hour? 

Ive come to place a series of hardships into your life to prevent you from having the time or energy to discover anymore revelations about our society and spread them to others.

Willis, I said I thought you were a hero?  Remember that championship game against the Lakers?

Pish posh! he responded, I was faking the injury.  The injury was a set up to boost the Vegas odds.  Nixon arranged it to get money to continue the illegal secret bombing in Cambodia and Laos.