Tony Bax

Tony Bax, here, with a dispatch from the front lines in the Great Mole War of 2026. And here’s an embarrassing truth: If you showed me five pictures of nasty, underground-living, mole-like things and only one of them was an actual mole, I probably wouldn’t be able to pick it out. I have never seen a mole, and yet I have spent an inordinately large amount of time over the past few years wishing for their demise.

I live in rural Missourah, on three acres of land, much of which is wooded. What isn’t wooded is what I’d like to call a lawn, though mine would not win any awards. The good news is that most of it is green. What makes up that green is a wide variety of crap. And what isn’t green isn’t green because of stupid motherfucking moles. At least, I think because of stupid motherfucking moles. As I said: I’ve never seen one.

I have, however, seen the raised part of their underground network that destroys the green that is my lawn.

For years, I let the missus battle them. This, because I was fundamentally unhealthy. Now fundamentally much less unhealthy, I have taken command of the forces in the Great Mole War because, well, she sucks at mole warfare. She bought some sonic things that were supposed to keep them away. Besides not keeping them away, they transformed my peaceful country oasis into one in which the peace was shattered by regular beeeeeeeeeps that did nothing but irritate me and certainly did not keep the moles away.

So when I got serious about restoring the former glory of my peaceful country oasis, I chucked the beep stuff and bought alternative weaponry. These highly toxic things will probably lead to my early demise, but not as early as what the packaged promised to do to the moles. So when I saw new tunnel bumps, I baited them and waited.

Knock on wood (or a mole’s head), but over the past several months, no new mole damage has appeared, and the old mole damage is healing. Nature finds a way, yo.

I’m sure moles serve some great purpose in the grand circle of life, and by obliterating these motherfuckers I am hastening the end of the world. But seriously … how much quicker can it really come than what our politicians and general human fuckery is already doing?

All I know is this: When the end does come, there will be a smaller mole population around to see it.

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