Saving Bumf

The above picture is courtesy of my corresponent in Shandong province (aka my husband).

Bumf.

Well. Perhaps this is due to me being dreadfully tired today, and therefore even sillier than usual. But when I read ”Saving Bumf” I keep thinking of the film title ”Saving Private Ryan”, and then I can’t stop picturing myself standing before the United Nations General Assembly, holding this very emotional speech about the dire importance of saving someone/something by the name of Bumf. And when I speak, everybody is moved to tears. Including Ban Ki-moon.

Bumf.

Could it be the eco system? Nah. If it was, they would have written ”eco system”, no? Or at least something remotely similar to that.

The same would go for ”water”, ”air” or ”planet”. Or ”humanity”, ”fellow man”, ”God” or ”saviour”.

So. The mystery remains.

Bumf. Bumfetty-bumfetty-bumf.

This mysterious entity. That needs to be saved. And I am right by its side. Making my mark. Trying to get the world to react. And doing a helluva good job, seeing the United Nations General Assembly sobbing almost uncontrollably.

”We have to act now. I know that it is a phrase you have heard many times before. Some of you might even be wary of it. But. This time, it is for real. Bumf needs to be saved now. Very soon, sooner than we think, it might be to late. And then. Imagine. A world without Bumf. Is it even possible? Can our planet exist without it?”

Ban Ki-Moon’s handkerchief is all teary wet now. Not a dry spot on it. But I continue talking. Mercilessly.

”How many of you have talked with your children about Bumf? Explained to them how Bumf works, what place it has in our world? What it thrives on, and what endangers its existence? How many of you have talked with your children about how happy we feel every day when we sense its presence? And how many of you can imagine what it would be like, if one day – oh, God forbid – we have to face them, this young generation, full of energy, hope and joie the vivre? If we have to face them with the words: ‘I am so sorry. If I had done better, if I had acted responsibly, as an adult should, when there still was time, Bumf would still be with us. Now I can only hope you manage to somehow survive without it. Somehow. My dear children, I am so, so immensely sorry.”

A security guard now brings Ban Ki-Moon another handkerchief.

I think that this is a good time to point out that I am actually not on drugs (except some cups of very strong coffee), but in spite of this, I keep getting more pictures in my head. Other than the ones of me at the United Nations, I mean.

Pictures of Bumf. The actual thingy. Or more like creature, actually.

Bumf. I picture it (him? her?) somewhat like on of those mushroomy things in Super Mario games. And it is like totally gigantic. And very fat. From its green mushroom hat with shiny white spots oozes something that looks like big, iridescent bubbles. The bubbles slowly move upwards, towards a radiant blue sky.

I can’t see what Bumf actually does, or what its mission is. But it looks kind of benevolent and peaceful. Its eyes are softly shut and it has this quiet little smile, almost serene.

Bumf. Bumfetty-bumfetty-bumf.

Ahem. Maybe I should quit playing Super Mario games with my daughter. And cut down on caffeine. Maybe I should go to bed early.

But the mystery remains.

Bumf.

How to save it?