Letter Imperfect Postal Service Approaches Complete Ridiculousness
For an untold number of years, the U.S. Postal Service has repeatedly fallen victim to merciless derision from its clientele. It has provided a boon of irresistible jokes which spread like viruses through America’s casual party scene, and several stand-up comedians owe their careers to this national institution.
Yet, until recently, these federally ordained mail carriers had managed to salvage a shred of respect in the midst of this unmitigated jeering.
After all, though it was by no means a perfect organization, it only had a few disgraces to its name. Son of Sam, one of a hoard of engrossing psychotic former postal workers, certainly fit into this category along with the dreaded fact that a stamp could no longer be purchased for a quarter.
For all these faults, however, who could hold a grudge against an army of fine, overworked men and women willing to wander through various forms of precipitation to serve? Recent follies, however, reflect upon the Postal Service more awfully than a host of serial-killing carriers ever could. With each unveiling of a new stamp or policy, this establishment seems to bring itself a step closer to utter ridiculousness.
It now appears that mail carriers of America are no longer content with misplacing the occasional letter. Instead, they have sprung for the jugular of total alienation by introducing a stamp in honor of the country’s favorite fat pop star, Elvis Presley, as well as by proposing a stamp celebrating the United States’ ability to destroy 100,000 humans in one fell swoop: a stamp picturing a mushroom cloud.
Elvis may have shattered the barriers in the world of rock and roll, but does that mean that the country must delegate one of its highest honors to his memory? Stamps have a long history of portraying those who Americans regard as great people, and this is a man affectionately referred to as “The Pelvis.”
Furthermore, it is difficult to imagine a more xenophobic concept than the one depicted by the Postal Service’s retrospective on Hiroshima. Whether or not historians justify this incident, no one can logically support its commemoration in such a fashion. In effect, this stamp would have insensitively celebrated the tragic death of an entire Japanese city, brought to mind the destruction of another, and extolled the American know-how that allowed it to happen.
Somehow, even if this happens to be the only thing our country can boast of in its long-standing economic war with the Japanese, the portrayal of a mushroom cloud seems slightly improper. Fortunately, the stamp was canceled.
Finally, with abounding gall, the post office has escalated the price of a stamp from an inconvenient 29 cents to a bothersome 32 cents. Obviously, the postal service must keep in step with inflation and the ever-ascending cost of living, but there is no excuse for the use of these perturbing numbers. In a short time, officials will deem the 32 percent price tag insufficient anyway, and, in accordance with current trends, they will bypass 35 in order to further infuriate their customers with an unseemly 37 or a disturbing 39.
Undoubtedly, the post office has taken one step too many in the direction of complete disregard for the opinion of the nation. Hereafter, the United States Postal Service deserves every bit of the ridicule it receives.
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