Let's see now -- which template to use today in the ol' homestead and standby, the Mainstream Cafe?  Not good to use them without some creative rotation, you know -- best to keep mixing it up, so's it keeps the product looking fresh.  When it comes to food for thought, the main dish can't be splotchy and a sickly green -- it can't be sprouting multicolored, science-project fur, not and get sold to the public and swallowed whole, like everybody all up and down the food chain wants.

Of course, between you and me, the stuff is almost identical -- we might as well be pushing soy served up a zillion different ways:  pummeled, tenderized, injected with flavor and some color, then -- Bam! Texturized, too.  You'd never believe your taste buds or your eyes.  Same thing here, no difference at all.  Facts is facts, like the man says.

At long last, we have a path for possible success, a template of civility to use in treating many terrible and ferocious maladies,  such as runaway, take-no-prisoners, violently predatory, vulture capitalism -- even on sports hooliganism, too.

That we have to teach civility in society says quite a bit, right out of the gate, uh, right off the bat.  That is to say: Right from the opening kickoff.

The NFL has made its pre-game announcement to football fans:  If you're tossed out of a game for unruly, drunken, violent behavior, be prepared for the ref's penalty call.  The truth of those consequences:  a four-hour, online course, at 75 bucks a throw, before anyone will let you back in and welcome you into the civilized fold.

Where will you go when the cow, whale, and/or volcano blows?

Instead of starting with Parrotheads -- fans of Jimmy Buffett and his songs -- for clues, we first go to Colorado, where the U.S. Forest Service is pondering what to do with a group of stray cows that wandered away from the herd over the winter, then moseyed into a ranger cabin, making themselves at home.

Problem is, the guest cows never left the impromptu cow hotel, but checked all the way out at some point during the harsh winter.  Six cows are inside the cabin.  A few more are outside.  The carcasses were found in late March near the Conundrum Hot Springs in Aspen;  what to do next has become its own hot conundrum this Spring.

We've seen the movies before, enough to drive us to distraction:  the slow takeover of power by lunatics, the sleeping citizenry unaware their country has been stolen and lost, the bad guys who refuse to be shamed and who will stop at nothing until they own absolutely everything...

Somehow, even though the movies are always the same -- exploits sexed up with explosions, topped-off with exploited sex bombs, and exploding F-bombs -- they always manage to make the Previews of Coming Attractions look novel enough.

How'd they do that -- sleight of hand?  Mass hypnosis from politicians?  Calm mesmerizing via pollsters?  Corporate marketing magic?  Or, are we just being baffled with more of the same, steaming bat guano, slung at us, hot and fast, right past us, before we know what happened, out at home plate, called on sliders?

Well, in a word:  Yes.

Imagine birthdays, Valentine's Day, special occasions of all kinds without the Post Office's stamp of approval and thumbs-up.  Imagine America without Post Offices in its histories and small towns.  More to the point, imagine playing Post Office with a new, for-profit corporation: Imagine having to kiss up to and keep any new avocational CEO stocked up with vacation homes, wingtips, private jets.

The right-wing crazies want to bring down this venerable public institution too, bringing on a trick-opening for for-profit delivery -- some say by virtually engineering a downfall by triggering a financial crisis, just to get a foot in the door.  It's enough to make any American go postal, enough to make our first Postmaster General for 1775, Benjamin Franklin, twirl in his grave.