Lollipops to Landmines

Lollipops are great. This is almost a universally accepted fact. They're so great that little kids will do anything for them. They'll undergo dentistry or become willing banking spectators if a lollipop is involved. They'll cry hysterically when they can't have one. Some of these children will grow up to have similar feelings about, say, heroin. Only "undergo dentistry" will get to be more along the lines of "cut a bitch" and "cry hysterically" will become "shriek and brandish a weapon".
As far as I'm concerned, the best kind of lollipops were and are Tootsie Pops. My inner (and at that time decidedly outer) fat kid loved these things conceptually. They were a lollipop on the outside, and a Tootise Roll on the inside. You didn't even have to expend the extra energy to eat another candy, because they were already both in the lollipop. Two candies at the same time. Concurrent candy. A magically delicious three-way between hard candy, Tootsie Roll and my mouth. At ten, I really could think of nothing better than that. Except a pet dragon with a magical world inside its abdomen full of awesome adventures. But Tootsie Pops were a lot more accessible.
The Tootsie Pop concept (one awesome thing inside another awesome thing) is also applied in the construction of land mines. Only instead of "awesome" think "really fucking dangerous." Since I really had no idea what the inside of a land mine was made of-apart from the fact that it was clearly not Tootsie Roll- I decided to do a bit of research. Since Wikipedia had featured rather prominently in the last post, I thought I should look a little farther afield. This was how I ended up on britannica.com, the website for Encyclopedia Britannica. For a glorious, golden moment I actually believed I had enough functioning braincells to use this website. Real people, I thought to myself, use Encyclopedia Britannica. People getting doctorates use this. It is legit, and by virtue of its legitimacy I am also legit. I reveled for a moment in the glory of my intellectual prowess.
Then I realized that Encyclopedia Britannica has a total of eleven words to share with me about land mines. They are as follows:
"... stationary explosive charge used against military troops or vehicles. See mine."
Really, Encyclopedia Britannica? Holy shit! I never would have guessed! They explode?! I thought people just buried large hunks of metal for kicks. Perhaps they hid them for the winter months when metal supplies would be scarce. I'm enlightened. I can hardly handle the world in the face of this overwhelming new knowledge. Excuse me while I go wash out my skull because my mind is BLOWN.
Apparently Encyclopedia Britannica could sense my intellectual inadequacy, and responded in kind. It was a bit harsh, but I'm sure that this was merely because it was offended. In spite of this minor setback, I was not to be daunted. I now needed to prove myself to the encyclopedia. Accordingly, I obediently followed its instructions and saw mine.
According to Encyclopedia Britannica, a "mine" is:
"... a usually stationary explosive device that is designed to destroy personnel, ships or vehicles when the latter come in contact with it. Submarine mines have been used since the mid-19th century; land mines did not become a significant factor in warfare until a hundred years later."
This was, if anything, even less enlightening. The encyclopedia had given me more information, but not about anything particularly useful. I could imagine it gloating in its infernal internet layer, cackling to itself. It was just fucking with me now. I decided that Encyclopedia Britannica had won this round, and went back to Wikipedia. Rest on your laurels, Encyclopedia Britannica. I'll be back.
According to Wikipedia, your average landmine has five components. A firing mechanism, a detonator, a booster charge, a main charge and a casing. In terms of number of parts, this beats out the Tootsie Pop, which only has three (the stick, the casing and the Tootsie Roll center.) However, in terms of usage, I think the Tootsie Pop still wins. While the land mine is full of fiery death, the Tootsie Pop is full of joy. Wouldn't you rather have an explosion of joy?
On the downside of the Tootsie Pop, there's always the problem that the small, weirdly animated boy faced in the Tootsie Pop commercials: "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?" He never did find out, because whatever asshole animal he asked always ate his tootsie pop.
How many land mines does it take to get to the center of Mr. Owl?
One.

Oh, and by the way: Penguins to Parsnips.