Coeliac Plexus By Cpt. Willard       There has a been a good deal of discussion surrounding this newsletter about bowel movements with a less than solid consistency; namely, "explosive diarrhea."       Now there is certainly no shortage of ambitious philosophers who have dedicated there lives to discovering some unifying principle of humanity. I am here to tell you that you can all stop waisting your time trying to wrap thousands of years of civilization up into a nice little package. I have, through the powers deep in my loins, discovered that this very principle has been lying under our sphincters this whole time. It is "the runs" that has unified humanity all along.       Think about it. Diarrhea is the great equilizer. Let me throw out a few names: Hitler, Socrates, Lenin, Marx, Augustine, President Bush, President Washington, Shakespeare, Ghandi, King Edward, King Richard. Both the great and the small, the despised and worshiped, the saint and the debaucher, are all unified by the fact that, at one time or another, they have all winced in the deepest of gastro intestinal agony. To me it is a very comforting thought that even Stalin had to sit on the pot for a good half hour while his colon reeked havoc.       Have you ever experienced this horrible phenomenon? It's bloody awful. This great yearning from deep in the abdomen beckons you to the can and the worst is yet to come. The initial discharge is actually quite pleasant. It's the after-effect that gets you. Your body reaches an excessive warmth and your head spins. Then you realize that only bigger, darker, more liquidy squirts await you in the near future.

This brief rest between the intermittent spraying is the dreariest of life experiences. If you are anything like me, you are absoluteley burning up. You basically have two options at this point: lie on the pleasantly cool tile of the bathroom floor or rest your baking forehead on the icy porcelain of the toilet.       This is the true picture of humanity. This is where we are our most vulnerable. Imagine it, an entire race full of people we call leaders, artists, visionaries, monsters, and conquerers all brought to their knees by their own quivering bowels. I think it's great.       True, it is most likely a far cry from James' call to humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord, but I think it's a start. Just remember, you have no claim to be proud, because you also have painted the white surface of someone's toilet a putrid shade of brown. "When I want to laugh, I'll take Bob Sagat thank you very much!"