Once upon a time, there were 2 congressmen. These fellows, at one time in their lives, were very smart people. But the draining effect of serving many years, decades, in congress emptied all their intelligence juices into the congressional sewer, forcing them to act like mindless numbskulls. Somehow these bozos continued to get re-elected, probably because their constituents were as dumb as they were. So they muddled through their legislative jobs, showing up occasionally, and voting Aye or Nay on stuff, normally not paying much attention to what the stuff was. Some pundits, evaluating their lacklusterness, called them gutless weiners. This hurt their feelings, and they claimed that such a characterization was a distortion of the truth.
One gloomy day, the two were wandering aimlessly and found themselves on the brink of a fiscal cliff. One congressman asked the other, “Do you think we should jump?”
“That’s a good question,” the second congressman replied.
“I wasn’t really asking you to give me a letter grade on the quality of the question, sir,” the first responded. “I was asking for your position statement.”
“I’m standing. Right here, next to you. Can’t you see that? I know you have eye problems, but this is ridiculous.”
Both congressmen, in fact, had serious eyesight problems. Neither could see much beyond his own nose. But the first man confidently spoke that there was a pond at the bottom of the fiscal cliff that would break their fall and prevent serious injury. He said that he thought they should go for it.
The second congressman hesitated. He gazed across the narrow plateau, and noticed another fiscal cliff on the other side. They both walked over, and saw what appeared to be a very deep, catastrophic drop-off into a pile of craggy impailing rocks. “Why don’t we jump off this fiscal cliff instead? We would get a lot less wet. My wife gets so upset when I come home with soaking wet clothes.”
“But it’s about 10 times as big a drop. We could get seriously skewered on those rocks at the bottom.”
“But it would take longer for it to happen. I bet it would take almost a minute before we were shish-kabobed. Over there on your cliff…you would get totally soaked within 3 seconds.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking. You know it’s really great when we work together in a bi-partisan way to solve a tough problem. We learn so much when we work together.”
They hugged each other, and took a flying leap. It took 43 seconds for them to get bludgeoned, far short of the one-minute prediction. A mountain climber who witnessed the leap said they seemed happy and excited most of the way down. He said one yelled “Cowabunga” at about the halfway point, but the other fellow yelled something that sounded like the F-word. He was not sure if that was a positive kind of F, or a negative F…probably the latter.
Back at the Hall of Congress, the fellow congressmen of their 2 fallen comrades commended them for their bravery, and passed a resolution that history should not regard them as gutless weiners. One freshman congressman asked why they felt the need to jump at all? But he was pulled aside and reprimanded by a senior legislator for his lack of sensitivity in this moment of grief.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction. Are you surprised?
When the President instructed all citizens to jump off the Fiscal Cliff, Johnnie was reluctant. He had been a staunch supporter of the Chief Exec, even voted for him in the November election. He particularly liked the way the President said he was going to go after those nasty rich guys who had good jobs but were not paying their fair share of taxes. Johnnie knew that those guys were going to have to jump off an even bigger, steeper cliff. And, well, it served them right for being so damn greedy. But as Johnnie approached the precipice, he began to wonder…began to question this brand of leadership: trust me, I’ve got your back. Johnnie looked around and did not see anyone with a life line that would take care of his back, his front, or any other body part for that matter.
Johnnie had been watching the TV news. His favorite station, Channel 7 Marxwitness News, had interviewed a left-leaning senator who confidently explained that it was not really a fiscal “cliff”, more of a fiscal playground slide. “Well then why do they call it a cliff, if it’s only a slide” he thought. “And why, when I look down this fall-off does it look like I will need an EMT squad when I hit bottom?”
He inched forward, loosening a few pebbles that tumbled down the cliff…bouncing along on the jagged rocks until they finally launched themselves for uninterrupted treks to the bottom. Is that how he would tumble…carom off a few rocks, causing some minor bruises and lacerations before being pushed away from the rocky surface for the bullet train to the bottom? Or would he snowball down the cliff, painfully tumbling round and round like some Hanna Barbera cartoon character?
Johnnie backed away for a minute. He began to wonder why it was necessary that he jump off the cliff. After all, he had done nothing wrong, nothing unscrupulous. Well, there was that one time that he padded his expense account on that training trip…but he would gladly refund the $3.50 now to avoid this calamity. His neighbor Fred was a lot more unscrupulous. Fred even lied on his resume about that time he got canned…said it was his own decision to leave the company. Baaah, he was drop-kicked like a worn-out rugby ball. He ought to be jumping off the cliffs of Dover.
Then he remembered the President’s speech last week, explaining how jumping was everyone’s patriotic duty. Johnnie, if nothing else, was certainly a patriot. He knew he could never go back into town and have everyone accuse him of being an unpatriotic piece of chicken crap. It would be a life of shame, hiding from ridicule and finger-pointing of fellow citizens…turning away from the whispers and head shakes from friends who thought they knew him better…being uninvited to Thanksgiving football watching by embarrassed family members. Being called a Jumpless Wonder. No, that would never do.
Johnnie looked down the face of the cliff one more time. Hey, he thought… he might just get a little banged-up, but come out surviving. He could buy himself a tee-shirt proudly saying “I survived the Fiscal Cliff jump”. He could wear that shirt to Thanksgiving Day football next year.
He gulped hard, inched a little bit forward…a little more…a teensy bit more. Then the alarm went off.
After the near 3-ring circus performance of the Presidential debate combatants, the Official Debate Commission is burning the midnight oil to determine how to restructure the format and ground rules to make the sessions moderately watchable. Some citizens who sat in the studio audience of the recent debate suggested that the organizers start selling peanuts and marshmallows to audience spectators of this zoo, so they could toss them at the barking penguins on stage. Penguin lovers objected to that characterization.
The debate modulators have been criticized for being totally inept nincompoops, applying second-grade level facilitation performance in stumbling their way through the hour and a half. But both have responded that, in their defense, the 2 participants were not listening, were not behaving, were not showing a modicon of respect. The modulators admitted, however, that they had forgotten that these guys were professional politicians, genetically unable to listen, behave, or show respect…and probably could not even read a clock, to boot.
Improvement suggestions for the last debate have included putting up red flags, trap doors, or electro-shocks to stop the mad debaters from running over their prescribed time limits. One person suggested just shutting off their microphones in mid-blabbermouth when the clock read 0:00, and let them just mime the rest. But both teams have objected to anything that quashes the ability for the candidate to finish making his lumbering freight train of thought. One spokesman likened it to stopping a certain bodily function before full completion, an analogy which seemed to turn the stomachs of all reporters in ear range.
Another concern is the need to address the spews of obnoxious lies each candidate has told on each other. TV networks had tried using a reporter to detect lies and point out real facts, but it turned out that these people were lying too. Competing networks then tried to fact-check the reporters’ lies, but it turned out they were lying just as badly. One Nobel prize winning journalist finally suggested that voters should just forget about truth, facts, policy concepts, or promises, and just focus on the quality of their neckties to decide how to vote in the election. “You can’t lie about tie quality,” he said. “It is what it is. All the spinning in the world cannot cover up an ugly tie.”
A growing fear is the chance that there could be physical interaction between contestants as they heat up. The idea of installing a plexiglas wall between them had been considered, but was rejected as being a bit un-cool. A final idea, initially rejected by both camps but later grudgingly accepted, was to have a 3rd grade teacher sit down with them one hour before the match, and teach/scold them on behaving themselves. Mrs. Farkright of Belfwood Elementary agreed to do it, and promised to have a yardstick handy in case it was needed.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, or so they say…
In recent weeks, several CEO’s of some of Bizarreville’s largest companies have been doing some serious spinning. They have been impressed with Obama’s ability to take ostensibly horrendous actual results, and somehow spin them into positive-sounding messages to make himself look good. More importantly, people are buying it all. Some citizens have given him a total pass on leading the economy into the abyss with no plans to turn it around, and CEO’s are now taking interest in this magic act. Faced with troubles of their own, the Chief Executive Officers have begun borrowing from the Obama playbook.
For instance, last week, Bill Smerk, CEO of Farknoodle Inc, reported to his company’s Board that the 4 years of earnings loss and cashflow drain with no plans/strategies to improve were the result of his predecessor’s screw-ups. He said that he has been working hard to dig out of the mess, but had a long way to go. When asked what major actions he was planning to do to stop the hemmoraging, he replied that his team was busy working on it, but had no good ideas yet. Smerk said he could turn it around in 4 years, maybe less.
J. Milford Moon, CEO of Dungledoid Computers, reported to Industry analysts yesterday that the reason his company’s balance sheet went from stable to out-of-control was their decision to expand cafeterias in all of their plants and offices in order to provide employees with a good, hot meal. He explained that many employees had spouses who also worked and were too tired to cook when they got home. Dungledoid ran up $300 million in new debt, but was able to snare 3 contestants from the Top Chef TV show to join their team.
Benton Silva, CEO of Junkster Corp, in an interview on Shmork Factor, said that the huge losses in the last 12 quarters were certainly bad, but they could have been a lot worse. Shmork asked him how they could possibly be worse than the average $1 billion per quarter of red ink which put Junkster on the brink of bankruptcy? Silva said that he had formed a committee to investigate that very question, and they concluded that, yes, it could have been worse…but honestly, it could have been a whole lot better. Retired ex-CEO William Junkster agreed, saying that it could have been worse…or better…or the same.
Dermot Skunkfit, the CEO of Skunkfit Apparel, decided to play golf when his firm was going through a liquidity crisis recently. He told club friends that the pressure was too much, and he needed a break so that he could come back to work fully recharged. Sources say that he lost a $1 Nassau during the match, which really aggravated him.
CEO Lamar Lunchberger said in a recent business magazine interview that his Quacko Company eventually plans to try and rehire their 8400 laid-off employees. He explained that business conditions have been bad everywhere, but will eventually recover. He said that they may need more people at Quacko at some point, but it may be a while. Meanwhile, Quacko has allegedly hired 8400 contract temporary workers to fill the gap…many of whom are believed to be illegal aliens, according to unconfirmed sources.
The CEO’s have shown that they can be every bit as nimble as Mr. Obama when it comes to negative message spinning. To hedge their bets, however, each CEO admitted confidentially that he had recently updated his resume.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even ones you think must be true.
An aspiring Senate candidate was accosted yesterday by a gang of unhappy fellow party members, disgruntled over the nominee’s refusal to drop out of the Senate race after making some legendary stupid comments about rape and abortion. The candidate was reportedly hospitalized to treat various brutal insertions into bodily cavities, and for some psychological treatment for trauma. He is expected to recover in time for the Fall election.
One question asked by a television reporter, after hearing about this attack, was whether the act was going to be considered legitimate rape or illegitimate rape. Rape experts have been sought to help answer the question, but they have said that precedent is not clear on this type of personal violation. If the act had been done by opposing party members, the experts believe that it would have most certainly be classified as “legitimate”. But since it was done by people from his own party, they say that it is most likely going to be considered illegitmate rape, thereby carrying much less punitive sanctions, perhaps merely a hand slap and a stern lecture from a social worker.
The candidate has responded that, while he may be walking funny for the next few weeks, he plans to stay the course in his Senatorial bid. Public outcry has suggested that this will provide a landslide win for his opponent, who is already the incumbent. The candidate admitted that he misspoke in the interview, and that he was fairly ignorant on the subject…but that in no way should ignorance disqualify him from being in the Senate. Many agree.
Asked how he will physically cope with the tough demands of campaigning, he answered that doctors have told him that the male body has ways to shut down this kind of pain. He said he expects to be dancing the Charleston by October.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones you wish were true.
Party leaders are scurrying, scrambling to determine what to do about the Gaffemaster. At first, they tried to figure out how to shut the idiot up. His continuous spew of knucklehead remarks, inappropriate slurs, and bumble-rooskies were seen as embarassing to the entire leadership team, forcing spokesman after spokesman to have to appear on morning TV shows to do damage control. As time went on, however, it became clear that most citizens did not care. They saw him as a genuine bozo, fully expecting to see him acting stupid, and simply shrugged it off. “What’s your point?” became the attitude.
More recently, leaders discovered that his endless series of flubs were actually quite entertaining to a large segment of likely voter-types. These citizens saw his goofy speeches as a pseudo stand-up comedy routine, chock full of chuckles in an otherwise dull, painfully boring campaign season. His straight-face, dry presentation style made his one-liners all the more hilarious. Like a snotty version of yogi-isms, his quips and quakes became crowd favorites. His recent “put y’all back in chains” slur to a racially-mixed audience drew huge laughs…so many laughs that the VP had to suspend the speech for 10 minutes to give him time to change his wetted pants. When he returned, he quipped that he hadn’t realized the team’s “Hope and change” campaign theme included underwear…drawing more laughs, and almost causing a change reprise.
Even the infamous gaffe where he asked a man in a wheelchair to stand up and take a bow which seemed humiliating at the time, now is touted as comic genius by the party. “The guy is remarkable,” a party spokesman said, laughing as he watched the tape of the wheelchair gaffe. “Look at that stone face…not a flinch…wow!”
Party officials now see the VP’s gaffes as an opportunity rather than a threat. They have given him a small staff of gaffe writers to devise some fresh new gag material for upcoming events. Advisors are working with the Gaffemaster to help with his dry delivery style, so that he continues to look like a bumbling birdbrain, rather than a polished comic…part of the “charm” that is critically important to retain for a few more months. Ironically, even his staunchest opponents are starting to laugh at the little screw-ups in private, feigning outrage in public. One unidentified opposing party member called his latest series of gaffes “the most pathetic, disgraceful performance by a Vice President since Aaron Burr,” then busted out in a spit take.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, although some are not so far from the truth.
The Presidential Insurance Company is offering a brand new policy to its clients and prospective customers, called the Universal No Fault Insurance Policy. They expect hundreds of thousands of customers will sign up for this new creative offering, which they plan to offer at highly discounted rates for a limited time.
The policy will offer No Fault protection for any of the policyholder’s screwups, negligence, acts of willful omission, or knuckleheaded blunders…no matter who is truly to blame for the problem. Even if the holder messes up really bad, Presidential will make him/her whole, either with monetary payouts or valid certificates of blamelessness. Most compensation instruments will be of this latter form: a signed, stamped, and notarized “Get Out of Blame” sheepskin which the holder can frame on a wall or keep secure with important papers in a lock box. Presidential says that it can fax or FedEx the Blameless documents within 12 to 24 hours, but can also offer a bonefide certified Blameless text message immediately if the holder secures a Smartphone App.
For a slight additional cost, the policy holder can designate a universal blamee, who would then be the recipient of all blame, no matter whether he/she was involved or even knowledgable of any of the blaming event elements. Some school children have asked if they could specify the Dog as a universal blamee for things like homework failures, food disappearances, or spots on the rug…the Insurance company has responded: most definitely, yes. The universal blamee option gives the holder a solid blamement alternative which in many cases may work better than the generic No Blame Whatsoever option, which can often leave the Accuser unsatisfied.
How does it all work? Every event is entered into the Presidential computer, and a sophisticated algorithm connects the event with the univeral blamee, and designates an appropriately chosen cause/excuse. It sounds difficult, but the program has been refined with artificial stupidity to make it function perfectly every time. In the dog example, the computer software is loaded with a variety of doggie bodily functions to make the problematic event sound correct. And remember, each excuse if professionally certified and authorized.
Presidential encourages customers to order quickly to receive the discounted rate. Website readers can get an additional 10% discount by typing “Blame Bush” in the upper right corner box. Order now.
Disclaimer: All stories in Bizarreville are fiction, as if you didn’t already know that.
The recently announced national unemployment number of 8.2 percent incited a new round of skeptics and pseudo-economists questioning the validity of the numbers. Many are now thinking the numbers are being manipulated at high levels to produce the numbers they want to see, not a true reflection of the true state of employment. Others say the numbers are just as trustworthy as the entity producing the numbers.
One conservative economic organization came out yesterday and said that the numbers are skewed because they now exclude people who have allegedly, out of prolonged frustration, stopped looking for work altogether. These people who had been applying for one or two jobs every quarter, have now stopped applying, stopped wasting their time…time which could be better spent watching Newhart reruns, or playing with the dog. The organization said that the true unemployment number would rise to 15% if they included those neuvo-slouches back in the mix.
Another organization has countered that if you started recounting these people, then you should also count people who currently have jobs, but don’t like their jobs, and are consequently virtually unemployed. Many have been getting paychecks for doing next to nothing, while coworkers are having to pick up their slack, and often having to work overtime. These coworkers should be counted as a person-and-a-half in the equation. Similarly, people who work two jobs should be counted as two, and guys who deliver pizza on the side should get at least half-person additional credit.
The Citizens Against Illegal Aliens (CAIA) group has argued that the whole exercise is irrelevant. They say that if the government stepped-up and took care of the illegal problem, there would be oodles of jobs available in yard work, odd jobs, freight handling, hotel maid, taxi cab, and ethnic food service sub-industries. They acknowledge that most current unemployed people would not want to do the jobs in these sectors because the work is hard and the pay is too lousy. But the jobs would be there if/when the government dole stopped and they got desperate.
Meanwhile, the administration said that the current unemployment figures are the best we have now, and are unwilling to make any formal changes to formulas. The spokesman said that if reelected in November, they will promise to form a blue ribbon commission to examine the numbers, and recommend ways to make them look better so that everyone is not so bummed-out when the numbers are reported.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction, but you already figured that out.
Bizarreville administration officials expressed unhappiness bordering on anger from the recent incident of a piddly low-level Democratic Party operative making disparaging comments about the Republican candidate wife’s lack of intelligence about economic matters because she was only a stay-at-home mom. The fumbling, inept, lead-tongued operative apparently had not been properly briefed beforehand by party officials. Her statements which have now been characterized as the Democratic party’s War on Moms have been lampooned by pundits.
“We’re most definitely disappointed in her statements,” stated an Administration spokesman. “We had planned to roll out our ‘War on Moms’ campaign strategy in a more subtle, clandestine approach so that the stay-at-home moms didn’t really realize what was happening. Now the cat is out of the bag, and will require that we do damage control and regroup. It’s just frustrating.”
The spokesman refused to explain why the Democrats were waging the War on Moms. But it was clear that the spokesman had never changed a diaper, woke up abruptly at 3am for a feeding, or chased youngsters around the house who were bound and determined to hurt themselves on an electrical appliance of some sort. The spokesman did say that stay-at-home moms have no clue whatsoever about economics or the business world, since those subjects are almost never addressed on Oprah or soap operas. He admitted that the Price is Right has some economic connection, but Lucy reruns have very little.
The spokesman went on to say that they plan to articulate their War on Moms platform more in upcoming weeks…a platform that will push aside the old-fashioned conservative ideas of the past. “That’s why Dr. Mervin Felkwash developed the concept of ‘Quality Time’ in the 1970′s, which got working moms off the guilt trip of spending such little time with kids. He promoted the idea that it was not how MUCH time, but the QUALITY of the time spent with kids that was important. He spread the idea that became ingrained in our culture that it was okay to blitz kids with jampacked faux attention, brisk toy-playing, and fast-reading childrens books to them. And it was okay to have day care and nannys. Hell, that’s why the Nanny State was invented…to allow Nannys to be fully recognized and respected in their important roles as surrogate moms.”
A reporter responded, “I thought the Nanny State was more about the government providing services and funding to cover virtually any need or want, so people didn’t have to worry about fending for themselves?”
“Yeah, that too,” replied the spokesman.
He went on to say that the idea that moms should stay home nurturing kids is cro-magnon thinking. “The very idea that moms should spend all their precious time raising and nurturing a stable of kids like what has been done for 10 thousand years, rather than getting out there in the real work force doing pencil pushing, emails, spreadsheet manipulating, and other critical bureaucratic functions, is laughable. There are jobs in the Customer Service world out there that need to be staffed by qualified people who know how to keep people on hold for 40 minutes, then tell them there’s nothing they can do about their problem. It’s what we call REAL work.”
D.Wasserbag Schlitz, the head of the Democratic Committee, was asked to comment on the operative’s gaffe. “It’s not us. The Republicans are the problem.” When asked what the hell she was talking about, she replied, “Go figure it out.”
Disclaimer: All stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones that seem pretty darn real.
The President flipped his position yesterday, and approved the Keystone Pipeline project from Oklahoma to Texas in an effort to counter the charges that he has become totally out-to-lunch on the Energy price crisis. He told supporters that this project would allow inexpensive crude oil from Canada to be pumped down to large oil refineries in Texas, reducing the need to be dependent on MidEast oil, and ultimately bringing down gas prices at the pump.
One reporter at the news conference asked the President if he knew where Oklahoma was on the map versus, say, Canada. “Of course I know,” he replied. “I took a geography class in the 5th grade. It is up there in the middle of Canada, one of those providences up there somewhere.”
“Sir, I believe you’re thinking of Ontario, not Oklahoma,” the reporter replied. “True, they both begin with the letter ‘O’, so that may have been what confused you. Confuses a lot of people. Oklahoma is a state near Texas. Sorta looks like a pot or a pan, like the Little Dipper constellation.”
“Oh, you’re right. I apologize on behalf of all the citizens in our country for creating this Naming Confusion. Those idiots who came up with the names of states early in our nation are to blame. They came up with names that make no sense. Then they took other states and named them New This, and New That. Who can keep track of all those New states? Where are the ‘Old’ versions of the states, can anyone tell me? Exactly. Just stupid. I’ll see to it that this Oklahoma confusion is corrected right away. May change the name to Yoklahoma, so that it doesn’t continually be confused with Ontario. We’ll get to work on it.”
“Yoklahoma? Are you serious? Yoklahoma? Old Jersey? Old York?”
“Maybe you’re right. Old Jersey sounds like something stinking up the bottom of your clothes hamper. May avoid that one.”
The President had to rush off to another fund-raising event, and had to cut-off further debate about state naming, but he said he would form a committee to develop recommendations and timetables.
Disclaimer: All stories in Bizarreville are fiction. Or did you already figure that out?
S: …No sir, we can’t say that. That would be an outright, obnoxious lie. Even our best spinmasters could not make that seem like it has a shred of truth. No sir, a lie.
O: So, what’s your point?
S: Point is…it wouldn’t be the truth. Wouldn’t be right.
O: Son, how long have you been in politics as an operative? Two years? Three years? Did they forget to teach you The Art of Lying by A.Chin in school? It’s politics, for heaven sake. No one expects to hear the truth. Now let’s talk about our Energy Independence program. What’s our official line? We’re drilling as much as we can drill. Every drill bit in the hemisphere is running in an oil well operating at full capacity. We need more electric cars. And soon.
S: But sir, electric cars consume energy, too. Power points burn fossil fuel to make the electricity to power those cars. And the conversion from fossil fuel to electric power, then to mechanical energy to power the vehicles is not all that efficient when all is said and done. Sir, the use of gasoline in highly efficient engines is probably the most efficient energy conversion technology, in actuality.
O: Who is this guy? Nicola Tesla? Jacob, where did you find this bird brain?
J: He’s one of our brightest new hires. Got his engineering degree from MIT when he was 14, then MBA from Harvard a year later. Picked up an honorary doctorate from University of Phoenix…well, never mind that last item…still pretty smart young man…
S: Sir, I think the public is ready for the truth. This kind of shabby BS has fueled the birth of the Tea Party movement, and is stirring the cauldron for other factions to develop soon.
O: Cauldron? Who uses the word “cauldron” in normal speech? Are you going to start throwing thee, thy, wilst, and fortnight on me? Are you going to start playing one of those weird ancient little harp-like gizmos…what do they call those weird things?
O: What?? Are you calling me a liar? Jacob, is this guy calling me a liar? Is that the kind of respect you show the President? Is it?
S: Sir, you just lectured me on the Art of Lying. Now you’re offended by the term liar? What kind of hypocrisy is that? Wait a minute…I wasn’t even talking about a liar. I was talking about a lyre.
O: Are you calling me a hypocrite AND a liar? Leon, would you step out and get the Secret Service guys in here? This young man needs to spend a little time in the hoosegow. Por favor, muchacho?
S: Sir, if you would just give me a minute to explain…
O: Leon, are you still here? Are words coming out of my mouth? Do I need to send you a text message to get you off your dead rump? Andalay, andalay!
S: Is this some new Hispanic initiative you’re working on now? The Florida vote…is that what this is all about? You know, my family came from Mexico and settled in south Florida. I’ve got some ideas on how…
O: Hold the phone, Leon. Stop the music. Maybe I was a bit too rash with my good friend here. Let’s all take five, and cool our jets. Can I offer you a margarita…what’s your name again?
Disclaimer: All stories in Bizarreville are fiction, even the ones authored by flies on the wall
Dear Mr. President,
As I sat in that House gallery, listening to your stirring State of the Union speech, I could not help but be inspired by you once again. You are the leader who speaks to my heart…speaks like no one else has ever done. Every word was like a little nugget of gold, flowing from your lips like warm butter dripping off an English muffin on a Saturday morning. It was dreamy.
When you spoke of nailing those millionaires by jacking up their taxes, I was reminded of my poor old late grandfather. He was never a rich man. But he worked hard…worked especially hard around April 15th to dodge taxes, claim false deductions, and contrive loopholes. He helped our family by providing us with a nice living. We never had much, but you know what? We didn’t know any better. That is until my friend Sheila told me about how her grandfather bought her a brand new pony for Christmas, while my grandfather gave me a garage sale little doll that wreaked like motor oil. Like it had been sitting in a garage on the auto accessories shelf, or something. I hated my grandfather for a while, until he told me about stall cleanup duty…then my doll didn’t seem so bad, and the smell was less putrid.
When you talked about leveling the playing field, I was reminded of my brother-in-law. He is a man who prays and goes to church every day, but for reasons beyond his control, he has been unable to hold a job. True, he hasn’t really pounded the pavement to look for a job, but he has managed to make it over to the unemployment office religiously to pick up his unemployment check and food stamps. He is like many who continue to be victimized by the evil people on Wall Street, and just need a few enhanced entitlements to get by. He, and his drinking buddies who are sadly in a similar fix, just want a little safety net to pay the bar tab and maybe give the bartender a small tip…hey, maybe shoot a game of pool. Is that too much to ask from those greedy rich people?
I was enchanted with how you managed to blame everyone except yourself for the pathetic state of our Union. I, myself, struggle so much when I screw something up, and often end up shouldering the blame. I just can’t seem to find someone convenient to blame, some way to dodge the bullet, some way to spin the event so that I come out harmless. But when I watch you do it, I become inspired. My goodness, you’ve had one of the worst performance records since Herbert Hoover, yet you never have taken a single ounce of blame. I loved the way you blamed that old nasty Bush for your problems for 3 years, blamed Republicans in Congress for being non-cooperative. And watching you spin those facts to make it sound like the economy is healthy…if only I could have your talent.
Your “America, Built to Last” reminds me of our nation’s automaking industry and how it needs to be rebuilt. I bought a Chrysler last year, and it’s been in the shop about 30% of the time. Hell, the rearview mirror fell off. But I guess that’s what you mean when you challenge us all to focus on the manufacturing industries here…build more junky cars and sell them to the Chinese as payment instead of cash. It will not only help the automakers, but also the after-market companies that have to make replacement parts for the crap that keeps on breaking. The bottom line is that it is all about jobs: good overpaid jobs for underworked workers. You’ve got my support. I just encouraged my sister to go out and buy a Buick. She asked me why should she buy such a piece of total crap. And I said: Because it’s your duty.
Thank you again for such an uplifting speech, and I look forward to re-electing you for at least 4 more years. I understand the Mission, and you have my full support.
Disclaimer: all stories and letters in Bizarreville are fiction.