Plunging for Ideas

I own two plungers: one to unclog the toilet and one to unclog the mind. To use the latter, I lie on the floor, apply it directly to the forehead, and plunge, careful not to inadvertently remove my eyes (I do not sew well). As there is much filth in the mind, I still have to wash it off in the toilet afterwards.

After such a treatment today, I pulled out an idea. It was blackish brown and had the sheen of a slug. It landed on my chest, and I threw it against the wall. Though it had no head, its legs and pincers scraped the floor. I smashed it with a can of kidney beans, then picked it up with several paper towels and deposited it in the trash.

I concluded that the plunger is not the best way to remove good ideas from the mind. There must be a tool more precise, a magnet perhaps. I like ideas like minerals: hard and shiny, iridescent, valuable.

I suppose that I could find Jesus, but I distrust any method that seeks to clean the mind. Like deforestation, cleaning removes all the ugly creatures that could provide a cure to some yet unseen disease.