New Finding: Jell-O Is an Aphrodisiac 

You may not have noticed, but we're in a crisis. No, it's not guns. It's not abortion, or housing or climate. It's the birthrate, stupid. In the 1950s, the fertility rate was 3.5 births per woman in the United States. Today, it's 1.6. That will spell disaster in so many ways in coming decades, although we will have a better chance of getting to Angel's Landing in Zion on a holiday. But listen, empirical data reveal a parallel decline in the sales of Jell-O. It's true. As everyone knows by now, Utahns eat more Jell-O than anyone else in the entire world. On Jell-O's 100th anniversary in 1997, Kraft designated Utah as the official galaxy-wide Capital of Green Jell-O. And get this, Utah's birthrate is still about 2.0. According to the Deseret News, Sen. Mike Lee even has "Jell-O Wednesdays" at his D.C. office, which could explain ... well, never mind. There may be any number of reasons for the birthrate decline, although experts believe video games are one culprit. And let's face it, we have too many options of entertainment. After binge-watching Army of the Dead on Netflix, folks are just too beat to get in on. So, here's the simple and obvious answer: We all must eat more Jell-O if we want to save humankind. And there's a bonus—you just might get laid.

Pouting in Exile at Mar-A-Lago
Ever wonder what El Presidente is doing at his Mar-A-Lago Florida fortress? The staff here at Smart Bomb has come into possession of a recent "Donald's Daily Reminder" that sheds light on His New Life:

* Get those bastards to find my presidential slippers.

* Crash that wedding luncheon today and tell them the election was stolen from me in the worst travesty in history. Then toast myself, dance with the bride and sneak a feel.

* Get those bastards to make sure I have enough Diet Coke on the golf cart.

* Tell Mark Meadows that if he doesn't shut that bitch Liz Cheney up, he'll never walk again without a limp.

* Plan a rally in Georgia and make sure the crowd is big—so tell them they'll get free stuff. Then tear into that shithead governor and secretary of state who couldn't find the votes I needed to win—because I did win, damn it.

* Get someone like Matt Gaetz to tell the Fake News that we weren't spying on the slimebag House Democrats who were trying to impeach the 45th president—me, Donald J. Trump. So what if we got their phone records. Screw 'em.

* Crash the memorial service for that guy, whoever, and remind the mourners that I am still their president and only I can save democracy. Then toast to myself.

* Get Ivanka to tell Allen Weisselberg that if he flips on me about all the tax shit we pulled in New York, that he'll have to relocate to friggin' Guatemala.

* Get those bastards to put bigger presidential logos on my golf shirts, and where are my goddamn slippers?—the ones that say "President for Life," for christsakes.

If It's Worth Doin', It's Worth Overdoin'
It's time to double down on the important issues facing Utah and the nation—stuff like Critical Race Theory and invisible sanctuaries for the Second Amendment. Now, it's true the Utah Legislature tackled both of these critical issues in a special session recently. But the brain trust at the Utah Republican Central Committee knew it wasn't nearly enough because to win you got to scare people. So, last weekend they went head-on after reverse racism and the continuing effort of Mothers Against Democracy to take away the 400 million firearms now in private ownership. The leftists say that Critical Race Theory would have us recognize that racism is a daily fact of life for many men, women and children, and we should be aware of how it became entrenched in our political and legal systems. But Republicans know it's just a ploy to teach white kids they have no rhythm and can't jump. And as for the sanctuaries—it's the only thing to keep Democrats from taking our guns and melting them down into craven idols of Nancy Pelosi. Democrats keep crowing about infrastructure and insist that all Americans should have access to health care and education. No wonder they can't win elections—that requires boogeymen, and Republicans have lots of 'em.

Postscript—Well, that's it for another hot, baked week here in Zion where we're short on water, and fire season is just beginning. The reservoirs are low, and there's no rain in the forecast, but priorities are priorities, and we must keep the golf courses green. Did you know that Utah boasts 140 golf courses—13 of them are in and around St. George, where 100-degree days are not out of the ordinary. Just another reason why we need that 140-mile Lake Powell to St. George pipeline. Oops. Don't look now but the Lake Powell reservoir also is at record lows—35 percent of capacity. The pipeline is estimated to cost $1 billion (right). But what if they build it, and there's no water in Lake Powell? Here's a better idea—a pipeline from the Mississippi. Problem solved. The Columbia Climate School estimates that 30 to 60 percent of urban fresh water goes to lawns and gardens. Planners, of course, take into account the water shortage when they approve thousands of new housing units—well, not exactly. But Gov. Spencer Cox may have a solution—pray for rain. You gotta better idea? Well, we could have a building moratorium. But that would slow growth—totally out of the question. Better call the Rainmaker or Get Gephardt or, well, pray.

So, Wilson, what do you and the guys in the band have for us as we stare into the abyss of the Great Drought and Bad Karma seeping in from coast to coast. Maybe it's time for a little escape so we can clear our heads and get some perspective:

Sweeping cobwebs from the edges of my mind
Had to get away to see what we could find
Hope the days that lie ahead
Bring us back to where they've led
Listen not to what's been said to you

Wouldn't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express
Wouldn't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express
They're taking me to Marrakesh
All aboard the train, all aboard the train

I've been saving all my money just to take you there
I smell the garden in your hair

Take the train from Casablanca going south
Blowing smoke rings from the corners of my mouth
Colored cottons hang in the air
Charming cobras in the square
Striped djellebas we can wear at home Well, let me hear you now

Wouldn't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express
Wouldn't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express
They're taking me to Marrakesh

All on board!

"Marrakesh Express"—Crosby, Still & Nash