Uncle Bill’s Bedtime Stories for Progressives (Some Fables for Conservative Kids, Too!)
BILL SCHMALFELDT (with apologies, where appropriate to Aesop)
(Oh, yeah‌ I did the illustrations, too.)
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without the written permission of the author. Copyright Š 2011 Bill Schmalfeldt All rights reserved. ISBN-13: 978-1466217997 ISBN-10: 1466217995
DEDICATION
To my neurologist, Dr. Stephen Grill at the Parkinson’s Disease and Movement Disorder Center of Maryland for keeping me lubricated and keeping the Parkinson’s disease from causing dementia so far. But most of all to the person who has had each and every one of these stories read out loud to her and pretended to listen as she watched television. As always, I love you Gail!
CONTENTS Acknowledgments
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1
God and Jesus Discuss Earthly Politics
Pg 3
2
We’re Calling it the “Doggie Downgrade”
Pg 7
3
The Fable of Androcles and the Lion
Pg 10
4
President Obama: Give Us Back Our Penises
Pg 12
5
Turmoil at the Tea Party
Pg 16
6
Romney Blames Grand Canyon on Obama
Pg 20
7
Eric Cantor Receives a Ghostly Visitor
Pg 23
8
The Liberal and the Conservative
Pg 29
9
Congressman Lamborn Learns a Lesson
Pg 31
10
Eric Cantor Strangles a Baby
Pg 34
11
Yummy Tuna Casserole for the Patriots
Pg 39
12
Michele Bachmann’s Nightly Prayer for Higher Unemployment
Pg 41
13
Sen. Coburn Runs Afoul of Mr. Norquist
Pg 43
14
The Fable of the Ass and the Lapdog
Pg 49
15
The Patient is Cured. Dead. But Cured
Pg 51
16
Who Does That Uppity Obama Think He’s Talking To?
Pg 53
17
The Fable of the Prince and the Monkeys
Pg 56
18
If I Call You Stupid, Take it in the Spirit In Which it Was Offered
Pg 57
19
The Fable of the Farmer and the Snake
Pg 61
20
Alabama Shows Arizona How to Do Racial Profiling
Pg 62
21
Faux News Exclusive: Human Male Aroused by Pictures of Naked Women
Pg 66
22
The Fable of the Laborer and the Snake
Pg 70
23
The Midnight Ride of Sarah Palin
Pg 71
24
The Fable of the Lion and the Mouse
Pg 80
25
Let’s Pretend to Be Journalists
Pg 81
26
The Fable of the Miser and his Gold
Pg 85
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27
I’m Ron Paul, and I’d Love to Be Your FINAL President
Pg 88
28
It’s Hard Out There for a CEO
Pg 92
29
I Accidentally Drugged, Drowned and Smothered My Baby. Forgive Me?
Pg 95
30
Blowing the Lid Off the GOP Conspiracy
Pg 96
Funny Fotos for Liberal Kids to Laugh At!
Pg 106
About the Author
Pg 122
APPENDIX
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IZZY WIZZY LET’S GET BUSY!!!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Thanks to the good folks at Technorati, where most of these essays first saw the light of day in my “Observations of a Brain Damaged Troll� column. You can always find it at http://technorati.com/politics/feature/troll/ Thanks to Brother Aesop for writing some kickass fables that only needed a bit of updating for the times. Thanks to the great uncredited artists whose works now dwell in the Public Domain, allowing some smart ass to come along, deface them, and claim them as his own work. And thanks to you for buying this book.
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FOREWORD Haven’t you ever laid awake at night wondering why there are no good bedtime stories for PROGRESSIVE children? All the standard bedtime stories are Conservative in nature, all about bad children misbehaving and being horribly punished by witches and ogres. But are there any stories for the smarter-thanaverage child of Liberal parents who is savvy to the political world and just wants to have things explained simply, from their parents’ world view? I know I do. That’s why I wrote this book. So I can sleep again, knowing that somewhere a Liberal Mom and Dad or Mom and Mom or Dad and Dad or Mom or Dad have a book of stories that won’t cause their sweet little darling to grow up with a selfish, homophobic, racist teabagging idiot with a mind of slush who thinks TMZ is the real important stuff. We need a wiser generation to replace this one. This is my contribution. Oh, and since I like Conservative money, too, I’ve included some Conservative Fables. Don’t read them to your kids if you’re a Liberal, unless your kids are hip enough to get the irony, which – with good Liberal parents like you – I assume they are. Bill Schmalfeldt August 10, 2011
GOD AND JESUS DISCUSS EARTHLY POLITICS In his Almighty Office, the Omnipotent Holy Lord God of Hosts rubbed His weary eyes. He punched the intercom button on His desk. “Judith, would you find my Son and tell Him I’d like to talk to Him, please?” “Right Away, Most Holy Father,” Judith replied. A moment later, there was a blinding flash of white light and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ stood before His Heavenly Father. He was dressed for the golf course. “Couldn’t this wait?” Jesus asked. “I was on the back nine with Buddha and Muhammed. I have a 3 stroke lead going into the 13th…” “You cheat,” God said. “You control the ball after you hit it. I’ve seen it. Everyone knows.” “Not Muhammed,” Jesus said. “That dimwit thinks it’s just luck or skill or something. Stupid Muslims.” “Knock it off,” God said. “You know how I feel about that kind of talk. I love all My children… on Earth and every other planet I’ve created.” “Yeah, I know. I just enjoy digging at him a little.” “Look,” God said, “Never mind that. I wanted to talk to You about something else. Are You meddling with politics on Earth again? In the United States, specifically?”
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“Define ‘meddling,’” Jesus said. “YOU know what I mean,” God thundered. “I’m getting prayer after prayer after prayer from these dimwit Republicans, all of whom SWEAR 4
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that YOU told them they should run for President. Did You tell any of these morons that they should run?” “I might have said something to one or two of them…” “JESUS CHRIST! Haven’t we HAD this talk already? I told You — we do NOT INTERFERE WITH EARTHLY AFFAIRS!” “Yeah, I remember,” Jesus said. “I mean, it’s like You’re TRYING to piss me off,” God said. “What have I ever done to You?” Jesus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know… maybe that time You sent me down to Earth before the invention of air conditioning in the hottest place on the You-forsaken planet, in an age of abject ignorance, to live among the humans as a human so they could revile Me and beat Me and nail Me to a tree until I both bled and suffocated to death…” “I guess I’m never going to hear the end of THAT, am I?” God said, rubbing his temples. “Well, You asked. You’ve never FELT pain like the humans feel it, Dad. It’s not pleasant. Even stubbing a toe hurts like a sunofabitch, and YOU let them drive NAILS through my hands and feet. I even cried out to You. Remember?” “Look, let’s just talk about the here and now. I have all these Republicans praying to me saying You promised them they would be President…” “Ah! Ah! I never promised. I just said they should run…” “And what are they supposed to infer from THAT,” God bellowed. “Did You tell Michele Bachmann that You also told Rick Perry 5
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to run? Did You tell Newt Gingrich that You also told Tim Pawlenty to run? They all think they have the exclusive franchise. “Well, then that’s their problem, not mine,” Jesus said. He looked at his watch. “Look, can we do this later? Back nine? Buddha? Muhammed?” God sighed. “Go, go. It’s a waste of time even talking to You when You get like this.” A blinding flash of light and Jesus was gone. God punched the intercom button again. “Judith, could you find Moses and send him in? As much as I hate to meddle, we need to cause a financial crisis on Earth and Moses knows more about that kind of stuff than anyone else I know.” “Right away, Most Holy and Almighty One,” Judith said.
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WE’RE CALLING IT THE DOGGIE DOWNGRADE After months of frustrating negotiations, I finally came to a deal with my dogs last week that allows them to crap on the living room rug as much as they like. It was a bipartisan deal. At first, the dogs demanded the right to crap not only in the living room, but in the hallway, in the office, in our bedrooms and on our beds if they felt like it. Originally, I asked the dogs to start earning their keep by at least auditioning for a few “dog food” or “pet store” commercials. This way, they could bring in some added revenue to our accounts, and we would be able to afford the constant rug shampooing their crapping would make necessary. They refused this outright and said that if we didn’t let them poop wherever and whenever they pleased, they would maim my wife and stepson. Well, this was unacceptable. So our talks dragged on through the weeks and months until we approached the August 2nd deadline for our home to be inspected and appraised by the people who own the property. In the true spirit of bipartisanship, we came to an agreement. The dogs would limit their crapping to the living room rug until November 2011. Then, a bipartisan commission of four — both dogs, my wife and myself, will discuss where to go from there. The dogs will, of course, demand an expansion of their rights to crap, not only on the living room, but perhaps in the hallway as well. We will once again ask the dogs to find some way to bring in revenue… if they don’t want to be cute doggies on TV ads, perhaps they could do print or internet ads. The dogs will refuse this, and I expect we’ll go round and round again for weeks. But for now, we have an agreement. 7
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We reached our agreement early in the morning on Aug. 2. It isn’t the sort of deal I wanted. But it shows you can’t get anything done without bipartisan compromise. The dogs immediately began to crap copiously all over the rug. They peed as well, although that was not implicitly included in the deal, the dogs maintain the deal covered the entire process of eliminating dog waste so we won’t challenge it until we get together again in November. Raven, our nearly 7-year old border collie, speaking for both dogs, boasted that the dogs got “about 98 percent of what we wanted.” That afternoon, the people who own the property came by for their inspection. When they stepped into our living room, it was mid-shin deep in dog crap. They immediately slapped sanctions on us. The value of our property crashed. The mortgage company increased the interest rate on the amount we still owe and the insurance company tripled our rates. We have no idea how we will survive this fiscal crisis. We’re calling it the “Doggie Downgrade.” But the mainstream media is largely ignoring us, preferring instead concentrate the nation’s attention on the cute, adorable, fluffy doggies so they can foment the kind of controversy that generates ratings for their 24/7 cable “infotainment” channels. The low point, from our perspective, was when Raven and Shiloh both appeared on the Morning Joe program on MSNBC claiming that “it’s too hot” to poop outside and only a “real meanie” would even ASK a doggie to do that and Mika pet them and pet them while Scarborough went on and on about the Obama administration encourages fascist property owners to trample on the rights of cute doggies who only want to perform their natural bodily functions. Lawrence O’Donnell was roundly criticized by the panel for saying that the dogs could help PAY for their right to crap on the rug by bringing in revenue, but Scarborough cut him off saying, “Are you saying people have to PAY for their rights? That you have to PAY for your right to live in a free country?” Then they went to commercial and O’Donnell was gone when they came back. 8
UNCLE BILL’S BEDTIME STORIES FOR PROGRESSIVES
The dogs, of course, blame us for our sloppy housekeeping, saying that if we would immediately scoop up their droppings and shampoo the rug six times a day, it would not have come to this. The dogs claim “the American people” are on their side, pointing to polls that say a majority of Americans are against animal cruelty, a fact they extrapolate into meaning it is de facto animal cruelty to make a dog “beg” to “go outside” to poop. My wife and I feel our financial future is in jeopardy and we honestly have no idea how to turn things around. But the dogs are happy. They got 98 percent of what they wanted.
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Fable of Androcles and the Lion A slave named Androcles once escaped from his master and fled to the forest. As he was wandering about there he came upon a Lion lying down moaning and groaning. At first he turned to flee, but finding that the Lion did not pursue him, he turned back and went up to him. As he came near, the Lion put out his paw, which was all swollen and bleeding, and Androcles found that a huge thorn had got into it, and was causing all the pain. He pulled out the thorn and bound up the paw of the Lion, who was soon able to rise and lick the hand of Androcles like a dog. Then the Lion took Androcles to his cave, and every day used to bring him meat from which to live. But shortly afterwards both Androcles and the Lion were captured, and the slave was sentenced to be thrown to the Lion, after the latter had been kept without food for several days. The Emperor and all his Court came to see the spectacle, and Androcles was led out into the middle of the arena. Soon the Lion was let loose from his den, and rushed bounding and roaring towards his victim. But as soon as he came near to Androcles he recognized his friend, and fawned upon him, and licked his hands like a friendly dog. The Emperor, surprised at this, summoned Androcles to him, who told him the whole story. The Emperor was filled with rage. "These people came to see bloodshed and bloodshed they shall see," he decreed. He threw Androcles 10 Â
UNCLE BILL’S BEDTIME STORIES FOR PROGRESSIVES
and the lion back into the arena where they were torn to pieces by gladiators and hyenas. Moral: Kindness is for the idiot and gratitude is for suckers.
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PRESIDENT OBAMA: GIVE US BACK OUR PENISES! It had already been a trying day. I had just undergone a CT scan to see what sort of problems I may or may not be having in my abdominal area (known in some quarter as "the guts". And hey, if you're in the mood for a real adventure tonight, check out my blog and look at the movie or the stills. Did you know how much STUFF there is in there under your skin? It's like PACKED FULL of junk in there). But I digress. We got home, I did daily my mile on the treadmill (which my neurologist recommended because my obesity — known in some circles as "fatassedness" — was giving other people with Parkinson's disease a bad name), took my shower, stepped out to dry myself... and that's when I discovered... I am now a woman. Well, that was my first thought. I looked down over my saggy breasts, over my bulging belly, into the tuft of hair down there and saw... nothing. I was a woman. An old, bald woman with hair on her chest and belly who needed a shave. I went in looking for it. Thank God, I found it. It had been there all along. It was hiding. It had done a turtleneck sort of thing, tucked itself back inside itself to where it looked like nothing more than a pustule of skin. I coaxed it out of its protective skin cloak. "Don't EVER do that again," I scolded. It just sort of hung its head and looked very sad. 12
UNCLE BILL’S BEDTIME STORIES FOR PROGRESSIVES
I can not blame it. I blame President Obama. I blame HIM for robbing his supporters of their manhood, man by man, penis by penis. I blame him for caving in to the teabaggers. I blame him for giving John Boehner what he called "98% of what I wanted" only to have the stock market crash the next day casting the civilized world into darkness and ushering in an era of "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" mindless violence on the crumbling streets while cars in search of precious and scarce petroleum products armor themselves and careen down the streets, ignoring the speed bumps and generally annoying the bejeezus out of everyone. I blame him for stealing my penis. 13 Â
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OK, he didn't steal it. But he frightened it. He let John Boehner throw him over a couch and have his way with him. He let Eric Cantor throw him onto the top of a pinball machine and, while the lightning flashed and everything took on a grainy black-and-white tone, violated him again and again and again. He let Mitch McConnell... Well... Mitch McConnell sort of looks like what I saw when I went looking for my manhood after my shower of fear. Doesn't he just? So, if you are reading this — and I know you are, President Obama — give me back my manhood. And oh, what a manhood it once was. Men used to discuss it in clubs, stroking their beards, smoking cigars and holding snifters of brandy. Women would whisper about it in their sewing circles, wondering if such a manhood really existed or was it just a story told to frighten children. It was just such a manhood. It was a meat tube of prodigious proportions, the sort of which would make women scream and faint at the sight of it and occasion the envious, nodding approval of other men in the public showers. But now, look at you. (And yes, I am addressing my penis now.) Even as I write this, you are trying to withdraw into your protective sheath of wrinkled epidermis, leaving just enough to be taken hold of for the purposes of micturation. (That means "peeing.") What are you AFRAID of? President Obama isn't going to give YOU to the Republicans! There are no teabaggers outside wanting to disgrace you even further than you've already disgraced yourself. 14
UNCLE BILL’S BEDTIME STORIES FOR PROGRESSIVES
DAMN YOU, President Obama. My penis and I shouldn't need to HAVE this talk. We had FAITH in you, that you would stride into Washington, throw your mighty scrotum onto the table, and IT would speak to the naysayers with your oratorical skills. They would SEE that YOURS were gonads that were NOT to be toyed with, President Obama. But instead... well... look at the results. You still have time, President Obama. Stand up to the Republicans so that I and other men may once again stand up in pride and salute the new day that you promised. Stand up, President Obama. We can still reach that day when we can run the flag of prosperity up our personal flagpoles and let your banner wave in the breeze of freedom. President Obama. Give me back my penis. Give us ALL back our penises.
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TURMOIL AT THE TEA PARTY "If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there." -- Lewis Carroll ---
The Tea Party has summoned House Speaker John Boehner to give an accounting of himself. Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC) tells him the Tea Party has BUSINESS to conduct with him! "But I don't want to go among mad people," Boehner remarked. 16 Â
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Oh, you can't help that," said the DeMint: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." How do you know I'm mad?" said Boehner. You must be," said DeMint, "or you wouldn't have come here." So Boehner found himself at a joint meeting of Senate and House Tea Party members. The Speaker tried to explain why the deal being floated was good for everyone. Rep. Eric Cantor (R-VA), however, disagreed. He thought it was completely possible for the Tea Party to get EVERYTHING it wanted, to give the Democrats NOTHING, and have it declared "bipartisan." Boehner laughed. "There's no use trying," he said. "One can't believe impossible things." "I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky). "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." "When you were MY age," the Speaker stammered... "Never mind," Senator DeMint said. "The bottom line is this. We of the Tea Party do not accept any deal that doesn't call for the instantaneous passage of a Balanced Budget Amendment, spending cuts of a jillion dollars effective immediately, and a public horse-whipping of the president." "And no tax increases," Michelle Bachmann said. "Ever!" "That's nonsense," Boehner cried. "The Bush tax cuts expire automatically next year. Do you really think the Democrats will allow us to extend them?" 17 Â
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Bachmann's eyes rolled back into her head until all you could see was the bloodshot whites. "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrarywise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?" "You pretty much already HAVE a world of your own, don't you Congresswoman Bachmann?" Boehner said. "So then, it's settled," DeMint said. "You go back to your little president and tell him that we have decided that we will have everything we want, give him nothing and declare it 'bipartisan.'" "But doesn't 'bipartisan' mean that both parties agreed to it?" Boehner asked. "Hell, even our OWN party doesn't agree to it." "When I use a word,’ DeMint said in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less." "The question is," said Boehner, "whether you can make words mean so many different things." "The question is," said DeMint, "which is to be master — that’s all." "Take care of the sounds and the sense will take care of itself," Rand Paul said. "Contrariwise," continued Bachmann, "if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic." "I have a splitting headache," Boehner said. 18
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"If you drink much from a bottle marked 'poison' it is certain to disagree with you sooner or later," DeMint said, patting the House Speaker on the bottom and sending him on his way to do his dirty business. Weeping copiously, Speaker Boehner made his way back to the House Floor. --"One of the deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what we do for others." — Lewis Carroll
(Note: Highlighted passages lifted from "Alice in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking Glass" by Lewis Carroll. What a wise, wise man he was!)
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ROMNEY BLAMES GRAND CANYON ON OBAMA Holding a press conference at the rim of the Grand Canyon today, Republican presidential frontrunner Mitt Romney blamed what he called President Obama's "woeful record on the environment" for the 17-million year old National Treasure. The stop was part of Romney's "Blame Obama" tour, where he has been photographed in front of closed factories, dilapidated downtown areas and various other bits of decaying infrastructure that were decayed long before Obama took office in 2009. "Just look at this massive hole in the ground behind me," Romney said. "With all this rich, fertile Arizona farm land around us, President Obama's disastrous record on the environment has allowed this area to continue to erode, to continue to allow the fertile soil of this rich valley to be washed downstream into Mexico where they USE the soil to grow their drug crops and that is what's leading to the border wars between the Mexican drug cartels and American law enforcement which ends up with innocent Americans being kidnapped and beheaded and left to wander around in the desert without heads, and do you want that for your children? And what has Obama done about this? Nothing. The river continues to wash away this fertile, fertile top soil into Mexico. It's like Obama is GIVING the soil to Mexico, which is the same thing as giving our PROPERTY, our LAND to Mexico, our national sovereignty to the Mexican drug lords. I mean, just look at this great big hole behind me! If this, by itself, is not reason enough to say that Obama has to go, then I don't know what else I can say to you idiots." When reminded by a reporter that the Grand Canyon is estimated to be around 17-million years old and that Obama has only been president since 2009, Romney responded sharply. 20 Â
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"But what has he done to STOP it? That's the question the American people should be asking. 'Mr. President. What are you doing to stop the theft of good American fertile topsoil by the government of Mexico to be used by their drug lords to grow their illegal crops and murder your children? Your CHILDREN for Moroni's sake!' Did I say Moroni? I meant Jesus. For Jesus' sake. Yeah. Because I'm a Christian. Yeah." Romney has lately held press conferences in front of rundown and shuttered shopping areas that closed during the Clinton and Bush administrations, one of which has announced plans to reopen soon. He has posed in front of factories blaming Obama for their closure when the factory owners said they would have closed a year or two ago if not for Obama's help. 21 Â
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A Romney aide said the candidate currently has no plans to visit Detroit, where the auto industry has experienced a rebirth since the 2009 bailout that Romney opposed, putting thousands of people back to work and potentially saving the economy for the traditionally distressed urban center.
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ERIC CANTOR RECEIVES A GHOSTLY VISITOR Poor little Eric Cantor sat on the back steps of the Capitol, sobbing his little heart out. Suddenly, the ghost of Ronald Reagan appeared next to him. He put his ghostly arm around Cantor's shoulders. "What's the matter, little fella," Reagan asked. "President Obama just YELLED at me," Cantor sniffled. "Oh, that's just terrible!" the spectral Reagan said. "Why did he do that?" "Because he's just an old meanie!" Cantor said, wiping the snot from his nose. "All I did was say that we should make a short term deal on the debt ceiling to tide us over until he finally gives us everything we want." "And what did he do?" Reagan asked in his grandfatherly way. "HE HIT ME WITH A CHAIR!" Cantor bawled. "Oh, come on now," Reagan said. "He didn't hit you with any chair. Obama's not the kind of man who resorts to using furniture to make a point." "HE DID SO," Cantor wailed. "I gotta bump on my head. Right here!" The ghostly Reagan felt Cantor's scalp and frowned. "I don't feel a thing," Reagan said. "Are you SURE it was a chair?" "I don't know," Cantor said, his eyes darting from side to side. "Maybe it was an ashtray." 23 Â
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"There are no ashtrays in the White House, at least not in the public areas," Reagan said. "Smoking is forbidden in public spaces." "Well," Cantor said, rubbing his watery eyes, "maybe it was his fist then. I don't know. I was SO SCARED!" He started sobbing afresh. 24 Â
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"Now, now, this isn't getting us anywhere. You know Obama didn't hit you. That's not how he does things. Now, let's get to the bottom of this. What REALLY happened. Remember, I'm a ghost. I know the truth." "Well, he YELLED at me," Cantor said. "He called me a big butt head and stormed out of the room. And if he didn't hit me with a chair, he sure knocked a few of them over when he stomped away." "That's doesn't sound like the Obama I know," Reagan said. "YOU... WEREN'T... THERE!!!!" Cantor sobbed, covering his face with his hands. "Ah, but yes I was," Reagan said. "The spirit of every person who has ever been President of the United States lingers from time to time in the halls of the White House. Now, you can tell Fox News whatever you want to tell them. They'll believe you. But this is just you and me. What really happened?" "OK," Cantor said, wiping his nose with his jacket sleeve. "He was trying to wrap up the meeting and I just wanted to tell him something but he didn't recognize me even though my hand was up and he didn't call on me so I spoke anyway." "You interrupted," Reagan said, his famous grin beaming. "But he wouldn't..." "You interrupted. Three times," Reagan said. "Yeah, but..."
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"This man is the President of the United States of America," Reagan said. "Would you have interrupted ME if I were trying to wrap up a meeting?" Cantor looked at his shoetips. "Nooooooo...." "Of course not," Reagan said. "And Obama didn't actually lose his temper, did he?" "It sure seemed that way," Cantor said. "Have YOU ever been irritated by a snot-nosed little brat who thinks he knows it all and refuses to give an inch in a negotiation? It's very aggravating. Great people have to compromise sometimes. Look at me! I ran on a platform of taxes being bad and spending being bad, and I ended up raising taxes 11 times and while I was president the debt went from $700 billion to $3 trillion. And now, you conservatives are talking about putting my face on Mount Rushmore. Do you know WHY I'm considered by people on both sides as a pretty good president?" "Because you never raised taxes and lowered the debt and deficit?" Reagan smacked Cantor on the back of the head with his ghostly palm. "Are you listening, dimwit? We were battling inflation! I raised the deficit to its highest level (relative to GDP) since World War II! And you guys want to put my picture on the $50 bill!" "Golly, is all that true?" Cantor asked, his weepy red eyes wide with wonder. 26 Â
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"Hey, I'm 'The Gipper,'" Reagan said with a trademark wink, grin and tilt of the head. "Good lord, you were a TERRIBLE president," Cantor said. "There you go," Reagan said. "Now, get your head out of your ass, clean the crap out of your ears, go back in there tomorrow, stop being such a dipshit, and listen to the President. You are NOT going to get a deal on spending cuts without a deal on revenue increases. It's just not going to happen. You don't want to ruin America, do you?" "No," Cantor sniffled. "You don't want to bring the world economy down, do you?" "No," Cantor said, with a little bit of a smile coming to his lips.' "Then get back in there tomorrow and ACT like the Speaker of the House..." "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm not the Speaker," Cantor said. "I'm the House Majority Leader..." "You're not John Boehner? I thought I was talking to John Boehner..." "Nope, Eric Cantor." Reagan pointed a ghostly finger at Cantor and he exploded into a mass of flame and bloody chunks. The ghost of former Secretary of State Alexander Haig appeared by Reagan's side. Reagan grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. "You told me he was Boehner!" 27 Â
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"Sorry, Mr. President. I made a mistake," Haig said. "Fine. No harm done. Let's go find Boehner." The two specters vanished leaving a bloody pile of scorched meat chunks on the steps of the Capitol.
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(Mostly, the Fables are for Conservatives, but we have a couple for the Liberals, too. Remember. We’re BIPARTISAN!)
FABLES FOR LIBERALS The Liberal and the Conservative In a field one summer's day a Liberal was fooling about, smoking marijuana and singing to its heart's content. A Conservative passed by, bearing along with great toil a bag of gold coins he had purchased from one of the sponsors of the conservative radio shows he listened to every day. "Why not come and smoke weed with me," said the Liberal, "instead of toiling and moiling in that way?" "I am getting ready for the financial disaster to come,” said the Conservative, "and I recommend you to do the same." "Why bother about financial disasters?" said the Liberal. “This is the Clinton Administration, unemployment is at record lows and we have a budget surplus. The only way I can envision a looming disaster is if we were to elect some idiot in 2000 who squandered away the surplus by cutting taxes on the wealthy, starting two wars without paying for them, and running up the deficit to record levels. And that will NEVER happen!” So the Conservative went on its way and continued its toil. When the 2000 election came, the Supreme Court declared George W. Bush the winner and President Bush started an unnecessary war in Iraq that cost many lives and a lot of money and his fellow Republicans spent and spent until there was no more to spend so they borrowed from China and spent and spent until the economy went into near bankruptcy and even after Bush left the Presidency, his successor was unable to quell the financial disaster 29
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that was sure to follow such reckless fiscal policy and it turned out the Liberal lost his job and had no food and found itself dying of hunger, while it saw the Conservatives smoking cigars and rubbing their swollen bellies and sharing the wealth they had accumulated among themselves while refusing to share any of it with the poor and middle class. Moral: When Conservatives Start Buying Gold, That Means Someone is About to Be Financially Raped. Probably You.
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CONGRESSMAN LAMBORN LEARNS A LESSON A Statement from the Hon. Doug Lamborn, R-Co. I would like to apologize to any of the overly-sensitive colored folks who may have been offended when I said this about President Obama on Monday. "Now, I don't even want to be associated with him. It's like touching a, a tar baby and you get it . . . you know you're stuck, and you're part of the problem now, and you can't get away." Now, I honestly did not know Negros take offense at being referred to as "tar babies." Everyone in my district over the age of 12 knows that Afro Americans are not made of tar... they only look that way, except for the lighter-skinned ones who look like they're made out of chocolate. Some of my best friends are Negros, so I certainly did not mean to say anything that they could take offense to. Why, during the last campaign, one of these good people actually held a barbecue to help raise money for me. And my GOD, the things he did with those ribs! They sure can cook up some great barbecue! But as I'm apologizing, I feel I must also draw attention to the REAL "n***er in the woodpile" here, and that's political correctness. I was making a perfectly innocent reference to an old Uncle Remus story (and he was a negro!) about how B'rer Fox (a clever little pickaninny!) created a little guy made out of tar to trick that uppity little B'rer Rabbit into hitting it and kicking it and getting all stuck in it so the fox could eat the rabbit. I can remember my old black nanny (we called her "Mammy") telling the story even now... "Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nothin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he 31 Â
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tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. "`Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain'y sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low. "`Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en de Brer 32 Â
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Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar-Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' dez ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'birds. "`Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. `You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo'. `I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee." My, how we loved Mammy. She was almost part of the family. So you see, I can't be a racist like everyone is saying I am. But still, I know how sensitive Negroes are on the subject of racism and I know a lot of them aren't the most bright or well-educated folk, so if my innocent comments were somehow misconstrued by folks who take every perceived slight WAY too seriously, as if they enjoyed being made the victim all the time, then I couldn't be more sorry. Oh, and I was at a dinner with Bill Cosby once. He was clean and very articulate and I couldn't smell anything but aftershave on him. And I used to LOVE "I Spy" and "Julia," you know — the TV show in the 60s with Diahann Carroll as a nurse. Not a maid, but a NURSE! Now THAT was PROGRESS!
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ERIC CANTOR STRANGLES A BABY TO SHOW HOW FAR THE TEA PARTY IS WILLING TO GO TO ENSURE ITS GOALS Members of the House Republican Caucus stood by smiling and Tea Party protesters cheered as House Majority Leader Eric Cantor (R-9th Ring of Hell) strangled a six-week old child on the front steps of the Capitol Building today to demonstrate how far Republicans were willing to go to preserve tax breaks for the super-wealthy in the current debt ceiling crisis. As House Speaker John Boehner (R-OH) stood there and wept, Cantor did most of the talking at the hastily called press conference, which coincided with a Tea Party rally taking place nearby on the Capitol Mall. "President Obama doesn't seem to realize what he's dealing with," Cantor said. "President Obama doesn't seem to realize WHO he's dealing with. There is no way we are going to pass an increase to the debt ceiling with tax increases on the people we are counting on to provide jobs. There is no way we are going to pass an increase to the debt ceiling without having first passed a balanced budget amendment to the Constitution for the states to ratify. Not gonna do it, not gonna do it!" Cantor responded to a question directed to Speaker Boehner about the lack of jobs currently, given the massive tax cuts passed 10 years ago by Republicans under President Bush. "I'm answering the questions here," Cantor said as Boehner's whole body racked with sobs. "And things are different now. That's why. You can't expect job creators to create the jobs they haven't created the LAST time we cut their taxes if we RAISE their taxes before they even realize we CUT their taxes. Are you stupid?" 34 Â
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Another reporter asked why Republicans seemed so willing to hold America hostage, not just America but the entire world economy, just to avoid cutting big oil subsidies, other tax loopholes for huge, profitable corporations that ship jobs overseas, and returning the tax level for the upper one percent of income earners to the pre-2001 levels they enjoyed before the "temporary" Bush tax cuts. "Do you really want to see how far we'll go?" Cantor asked. He turned to the Speaker. "Boner. Get me a megaphone." Immediately responding to his mispronounced last name, the Speaker of the House scurried back into the Capitol Building. "I think the ladies and gentlemen of the press need a demonstration," Cantor said. "I think they would benefit from a visual aid, to see just how serious we are about cutting this out of control spending without harming the job creators who create jobs and will create jobs they didn't create before because now that we've cut spending without raising their taxes, 35 Â
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they will be free to create the jobs they didn't create when we cut their taxes before." The Speaker returned with the megaphone and gingerly held it toward Rep. Cantor as if he expected Cantor were going to hit him. "Gimme!" Cantor said as he swiped the megaphone from the trembling, weeping Speaker of the House. He lifted the megaphone and spoke to the Tea Party rally some 100 yards away. "Yo! Tea Party members! Especially mothers with young children. C'mon over and let's show these Mainstream Media idiots how SERIOUS we are about giving America back to 'We the People'." Seconds later, the reporters were surrounded by an angry mob of Tea Party regulars with signs reading, "Obama is a Terruhist" and "Obama is a Commie Hitler" among others. Cantor gestured to a black woman holding a small baby. "You, honey. Could you step up here for a minute?" The woman looked around as if she couldn't believe the House Majority Leader was talking to her. She made her way through the crowd and stood next to Cantor. "And people say there ARE no negroes in the Tea Party," Cantor said with a laugh. The Tea Partiers responded with hoots and applause while the mother, who has asked not to be identified, grimaced at the use of the word "negro." Cantor smiled. "What's yer baby's name, sweetheart?" The woman smiled nervously. "Tisha," she said. 36 Â
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Cantor beamed. "Tisha. Such a beautiful name. And how old is she?" "Six weeks tomorrow," the woman said with a quiver in her voice. "Awwwww. Six weeks. So young and tender. Such a MAGICAL age for a baby. Can I hold her for a sec?" The woman looked around with a face betraying her apprehension, but with the Tea Party members cheering her on, she hesitatingly handed her infant to the congressman. Rep. Cantor cuddled the baby then looked to his right, where Congressmen Joe Wilson (R-SC) of "You Lie!" fame and Louie Gohmert (R-TX) were already silently advancing. "Fellas, grab her," Cantor said quietly. Wilson and Gohmert each took the woman by an arm as other nearby Republican Members of Congress assisted them in holding the woman. "Members of the press, get them cameras rolling," Cantor said. He grasped the infant with both hands around the throat and squeezed. If the child made a sound, it was unheard over the screaming of the mother, the cheers of the Tea Party members, the Speaker's wailing and the murmured horror of the press. The baby thrashed for a little while, as much as a sixweek old child can thrash. Then it went limp. Cantor maintained the choke hold on the baby for another 48 seconds. The crowd went silent. Cantor then held the baby's tiny dead body in on hand, put his other hand on top of the infant's head, and twisted until the head faced backwards. In the silence, one could hear the neckbones separating and snapping. He then threw it into the gathering of reporters. By this point, the mother had fainted. "Make sure everybody sees that," Cantor said, wiping the blood, vomit and other baby-related mucus on Speaker Boehner's shirt. "Then, 37 Â
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ask me again how far we're willing to go." He dropped the microphone onto the floor and walked back into the Capitol, his GOP caucus following close behind.
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YUMMY TUNA CASSEROLE FOR THE PATRIOTS (whom we shall soon enslave) NOTE TO EDITORS — ENSURE THAT WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW IS ENCODED WITH "CODE Xh7Zc3" SO ONLY THOSE SYMPATHETIC WITH OUR CAUSE WILL BE ABLE TO READ THE ACTUAL COLUMN, WHILE PATRIOTIC AMERICANS WHO LOVE AMERICA AND FREEDOM AND GOODNESS WILL SEE A RECIPE FOR A TASTY TUNA CASSEROLE. AND PLEASE ENSURE YOU'VE WORKED THE BUGS OUT OF THE CODING MODULE BEFORE YOU PUBLISH THIS TIME. ******** You know, sometimes I think we need to put aside all the politics and stuff and just take a minute to stop and smell the roses. And what better way to do that than with a heaping plate of hot tuna casserRIGHT WHERE WE WANT THEM!!! These American Patriots who have so cleverly stumbled upon the documentation that proves President Obama is a Kenyan Indo-Canadian Arab with Dual British Citizenship and a Connecticut Social Security Card are well organized. And they're getting MORE organized. But instead of fearing them, we must use their organization to our advantage. They are planning a national gathering. One thing they got right! THIS WILL BE "Their Last Chance!" This could not be better news for those of us dedicated to President Mumbasi and the swift implementation of the New World Order! With all the patriots gathered in one place, it will be a simple matter to use Strike Force 13 (the so-called "Park Police") and Kill Team X (the socalled Capitol Police) to round up these patriots, ship them in freight containers to our secret killing grounds in Maryland, and be done with them once and for all. 39
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Depending on the size of the crowd, we may or may not require use of the black helicopters. Pilots, stand by for further instructions. Also good news, the patriots are REGISTERING and GIVING THEIR HOME ADDRESSES to one of our most trusted agents on his "Birther Summit" Facebook Fan Page. Good Job "Dean". Get these fools to register and give you all the information you can glean through their Facebook Profiles. We can deal with THESE patriots BEFORE they have their little "Summit!" Print this out on your specially issued code printers, save it someplace secur at 350 degrees for 30-minutes and you will have a plate full of deliciousness that your guests will be talking about for DAYS! Give it a try! Back to politics next time, OK? I promise! 40 Â
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MICHELE BACHMANN’S NIGHTLY PRAYER FOR HIGHER UNEMEPLOYMENT Dear Heavenly Father in Heaven Above, Thank you for the new, unexpectedly higher unemployment numbers you released today. Thank you for answering my prayers that unemployment continue to be a problem for the Kenyan Socialist Fraud in the White House. You know better than anyone, Oh most Knowing and Wise Lord, that human suffering is GREAT for my campaign. The more people suffer, the more we can blame it on Obama, the more likely the voters will follow your clearly stated will, and my Husband's wishes, and make me President. Did you see me on CNBC this morning, Oh, Omnipotent Lord of Hosts? I agree with You, most Holy of Holy Gods, that it's not wrong to hope for more human misfortune if it helps Marcus' political ambitions, by which I mean Your political ambitions, which must, by nature, therefore be MY political ambitions. And the people who are being harmed by Your righteous judgment against the Pretender in the Oval Office will be rewarded with riches stored in heaven since they can't have any of the riches that we intend for the already rich, in accordance with Your will. Praise You with many praises and shouts of acclamation, Almighty Holy God. You have seen to it that more and more people have no food to eat or money to pay their bills, all of which will surely ensure my election next year. So all I can say is, "Yay, God!" Keep the human misery and suffering coming, Sweet Loving God. Show us your compassion and mercy by 41
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crushing the Kenyan insect in the White House and ensuring to Marcus, through You, through me, the Ultimate Glory that awaits. Hosanna!
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SEN. COBURN RUNS AFOUL OF MR. NORQUIST Sen. Tom Coburn (R-OK) threw the newspaper down onto the table top, nearly upsetting his coffee cup. "Sweet Jesus Christ in Heaven Above!" he barked. "These damn idiots are going to let the country default!" "Who's going to let the country default, dear?" his wife asked nervously. "These gosh darn idiots who would rather watch our economy get dragged down to a third world status than raise taxes — or even close a few loopholes — on the rich people and corporations." "Honey," Mrs. Coburn whispered. "Is it a good idea to say things like that — out loud? I mean, think whatever you want, but..." "But what?" Coburn asked sharply. "You think Grover Norquist has a van roaming the Arlington and Northern Virginia neighborhoods with listening devices, checking up on the private conversations of Congressmen and Senators? I'm paranoid, too, honey. But that's just nuts!" "But Tommy," Mrs. Coburn said, drying her moist hands on her apron, covered with little images of corncobs ready for the picking. "You had that little run in with Mr. Norquist last Monday where he said you were gonna raise taxes by a trillion dollars..." "Dagnabbit, it is NOT a tax hike," Coburn said. "It's part of a deficit reduction plan. It's like I said in my "Back in Black" plan. Real choices must be made to reduce spending, increase revenues, or both. If Washington does not begin making these difficult choices today, those decisions will be made for us tomorrow and the results could be 43
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catastrophic. The only guaranteed entitlements for future generations will be debt and lower standards of living"
"But Mr. Norquist said it's a tax hike," Mrs. Coburn whimpered. "The Daily Caller said it was a 'thoughtful, comprehensive first step toward change.'" "But Mr. Norquist SAID it was a TAX hike," Mrs. Coburn sobbed, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her corn cob apron. "Mr. Norquist can kiss my..." "TOM!!!" Mrs. Coburn squealed in alarm. 44 Â
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"I wasn't going to say 'ass'...." Senator Coburn was GOING to say, but the rag soaked in chloroform left the words unuttered. When the Oklahoma senator awoke, he was in a very dark room. His hands and feet were tied, his frame stretched face down over a barrel. In the sparse candlelight, he could make out the hooded faces of most of his Republican colleagues in the Senate... and the House of Representatives. "Oh we're VERY disappointed in you," someone said in a high pitched, reedy voice, like someone playing an oboe under a blanket. Coburn recognized the voice immediately. "Norquist," he said. "You WERE listening." "Nothing goes unheard by We the People, Senator Coburn. Nothing." The circle of elected Republican lawmakers parted to allow the diminutive, non-elected head of Americans for Tax Reform approach his prisoner. "This is not necessary, Grover..." "SILENCE!" Norquist demanded. To those who didn't fear this man to their very soul, the sound would have been nearly comical. Unfortunately, there were no such men or women in the gathering. "You signed the PLEDGE, Senator Coburn." Grover grabbed a handful of Coburn's hair and pulled. Then he laughed. "You know, most of the time I do that to one of you bozos, the hairpiece comes right off in my hand and I have to plaster it back on so you will be recognized in the pictures. Not you, though. Nice hair." 45 Â
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"Thank you," Sen. Coburn said. "Now, what is this about." "You know what this is about," Norquist said. "You violated... the pledge." The Republicans in the chamber began to mutter the word "pledge" over and over again until Norquist held up a single left hand. They fell silent. "I'm afraid we're gonna have to make an example out of you, Tom," Norquist said. "See Congressman Cantor standing to your left? He's going to beat your ass with a billy club until you pass out from the pain. Speaker Boehner and Senate Majority Leader McConnell are with him in case his arm gets tired." "That won't happen, Mr. Norquist. I useta play me a lot of BASEBALL..." Cantor gibbered like a boastful third grader. "Nice, Eric. Nice. Now, silence." "What do you expect to prove by this?" Coburn asked. "I expect to PROVE that when you sign a PLEDGE, you'd BLOODY F*CKING BETTER WELL ABIDE BY IT or WE THE PEOPLE will see to it that you are ABIDING WITH YOUR LORD GOD IN HEAVEN BEFORE YOU'RE READY TO GO! That's what I expect to prove." Flecks of spittle sprayed onto Coburn's naked back as Norquist screamed. "I don't work for YOU," Coburn said. "I work for the people of Oklahoma. NONE of the people here work for you. They work for their various states and districts. If we would all just stand on our hind legs and tell you to go..." 46 Â
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"I AM THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA," Norquist said. "I SPEAK FOR THE PEOPLE! I AM THE PEOPLE! IT'S NOT 'WE THE PEOPLE,' IT'S 'ME THE PEOPLE!' There are POWERFUL INTERESTS who INSIST that the American economy go into default," Norquist said. "And when I say 'Interests', I mean GENERAL ELECTRIC and VIACOM and TIME WARNER and DISNEY and NEWS CORP and EVERY CORPORATION ON THE FORTUNE 500 LIST!!! They have decided that I SPEAK FOR THEM, therefore, I AM THE PEOPLE and you will DO..." Whap! Cantor hit Coburn square on the asscheeks with the billy club. He hit Coburn with each successive word from Norquist. "WHAT... I... SAY!!! DO... YOU... UNDERSTAND... ME... SENATOR... TOM... COBURN... REPUBLICAN... FROM... OKLAHOMA?" "ERIC," Coburn shouted over his shoulder. "Use the club on HIM! On HIM! Knock him out! Kill him! Kill him and we can be FREE to vote our consciences once more." Cantor paused. A dreamy look came into his eyes. "Conscience," he said quietly. "That word used to mean something..." "TAX BREAKS AND SEXUAL SERVICES FROM BEAUTIFUL WOMEN YOU NEVER HAVE TO SPEAK TO OR EVEN SEE AGAIN! DOES YOUR CONSCIENCE OFFER YOU THAT???" Norquist said, grabbing Cantor by the shoulders and shaking him violently. The clarity came back into Cantor's eyes. "Deeeeeee-FAULT!" he said, striking Coburn's buttocks on the second syllable. 47
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"De-FAULT!" "De-FAULT!" "De-FAULT!" After about 10 minutes of this, Senator Coburn could no longer feel anything below his waist. After about 20 minutes, he was unconscious. When he woke up he was in his own bed, at home. His wife was there with him. He was naked. So was she. So was Grover Norquist. "I think we've learned our lesson here, haven't we, Tom?" Norquist said with a smile. "I'm glad he didn't kill you, Tom," Mrs. Coburn said as she snuggled into Norquist's bare, hairless, flabby chest. "We don't kill good senators like Tom," Norquist said as he ducked his head under the covers. "We 'encourage' them" "Oooooooh, Grover, you and that silver tongue of yours," Mrs. Coburn moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head. Coburn passed out again, which is just as well. Nothing Norquist said for the next 20 minutes would have been intelligible anyway.
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Ass and the Lapdog A man had an Ass, and a Maltese Lapdog, a very great beauty. The Ass was left in a stable and had plenty of oats and hay to eat, just as any other Ass would. The Lapdog knew many tricks and was a great favorite with his master, who often fondled him and seldom went out to dine without bringing him home some tidbit to eat. The Ass, on the contrary, had much work to do in grinding the cornmill and in carrying wood from the forest or burdens from the farm. The Ass often lamented his own hard fate and contrasted it with the luxury and idleness of the Lapdog, till at last one day he broke his cords and halter, and galloped into his master's house, kicking up his heels without measure, and frisking and fawning as well as he could. He next tried to jump about his master as he had seen the Lapdog do, but he broke the table and smashed all the dishes upon it to atoms. He then attempted to lick his master, and jumped upon his back. The servants, hearing the strange hubbub and perceiving the danger of their master, quickly relieved him, and drove out the Ass to his stable with kicks and clubs and cuffs. The Ass, as he returned to his stall beaten nearly to death, thus lamented: "I have brought it all on myself! Why could I not have been contented to labor with my companions, and not wish to be idle all the day like that useless little Lapdog!" MORAL: The Poor Should Know Their Place, Lest They Make Asses of Themselves. 49 Â
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THE PATIENT IS CURED. DEAD. BUT CURED. In a shocking press conference today, doctors at the American Institute for Sick Economies announced a cure for the economic cancer that has been plaguing America since 2001. "There's some disagreement among my colleagues and I which treatment did the job," Dr. Barack Obama the institute's director said, "But we all agree it was some kind of poison that stopped the cancer from growing." "We met and we met and we met and we were getting nowhere," said Dr. John Boehner, head of the institute's Department of Epidemiology. "We felt at first that just throwing money at the patient's insurance company would do the trick, so that's what we did. It's what we've been doing since 2001 since Dr. Bush ran the institute. But instead of shrinking the cancer, which we've named "Povertius Republicani", the tumor just grew and grew, really taking off in late 2008." "Our first thoughts were that it was best to just keep doing what we were doing," said Dr. Eric Cantor, Dr. Boehner's associate director. "It clearly wasn't working, but you just don't change horses in midstream." "And that was the trouble," said Dr. Nancy Pelosi, head of the institute's Department of Progressive Therapy. "In fact, we felt that by throwing money at the insurance companies, we were depriving much needed nutrients to the actual HEALTHY tissue that SURROUNDED this growing tumor. As a result, the tumor continued to grow and threaten the patient's life."
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"That's when we turned to Dr. Obama for advice," said Dr. Harry Reid, head of the institute's Department of Useless Palaver. I think Dr. McConnell and I will agree that was a good idea." "That is correct," said Dr. Mitch McConnell, head of the institute's Department of Obstructive Diseases. "Dr. Obama wanted to continue throwing money at the insurance companies, AND spend money to revitalize the tissue around the tumor. I was dead set against that part because it would have meant less money for the insurance companies." "That's why I'm the director of the institute," President Obama said. "So, what we did was come to a compromise. We kept giving money to the insurance companies, we poured a little bit of nutrient into the healthy 51 Â
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tissue around the tumor. And then we gave the patient a dose of potassium cyanide." "That stopped the tumor from growing, almost immediately," Dr. Boehner said. "It was a thing to see," said Dr. Pelosi. "Of course, the patient is dead," Dr. Obama said. "But at least we stopped that tumor from getting any bigger. And isn't that the point of medicine, to cure the patient even if you have to kill the patient?" The other doctors murmured in agreement as the first wrecking ball crashed into the exterior wall of the institute.
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WHO DOES THAT UPPITY OBAMA THINK HE’S TALKING TO? Well, I nevah! Can you IMAGINE? That uppity President telling them good white folk in the Congress what to do? What IS this world coming to? Back when I was a lad, mah pappy tol' me that you could tell who the GOOD negroes was cuz they knew their place. They would address you with a "Yes, suh," or a "Yes, ma'am," none of this uppity "Get to work" lakh the Head Negro tol' our Good and Faithful White Republicans in Congress. You can bet they ain't gonna STAND fo'it neithuh! "Maybe if he'd just take a Valium and calm down and come on down to talk to us, why, it might be helpful," Republican Senator Pat Roberts said at a press conference with several colleagues to express outrage at the White House. Well, that ain't really a good idea no how, cuz evahbody KNOWS how LAZY "those people" are. Give 'im a Valium and he'll just pull off his shoes and go off for a snooze under a big ol' shade tree. Republican Senator Marco Rubio, widely touted as a possible vice presidential prospect, told the National Review Online that he was "shocked" by the tone of a Wednesday press conference in which Obama blasted his foes. "It was rhetoric, I thought, that was more appropriate for some left-wing strongman than for the president of the United States," Rubio added. 53
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HELL, yeah! By tellin' our Good and Faithful White Republicans in Congress that they should "Get to work," the Head Negro sounded lahk one-a them Afrykin DICKTATERS what they got over there, not like a reasonable, responsible President of the United States of AMERICA! Listen to what he said... 54 Â
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"They're in one week, they're out one week," Obama said at a White House news conference. "And then they're saying, Obama has got to step in. You need to be here. I've been here. I've been doing Afghanistan and bin Laden and the Greek crisis. You stay here. Let's get it done." Responding today in the Senate, Sen. Rand Paul, R-Ky., said: "I'm here today, Mr. President, where are you?" He was up in the WHITE HOUSE. And that's the PROBLEM!!! Evahbody knows that it's the PRESIDENT what comes up with the fine details of legislation and it's Congress what rubber-stamps whatever the President TELLS 'em to! Least, that's how it was when that good Christian George W. Bush was President. You didn't HAVE problems lahk this. The President would write a bill, send it to Congress, the Congress would snap to, pass it, and send it raht back to the President fo' his signatuh. So, why ain't the Head Negro doin' that, instead of expectin' CONGRESS to work out the fine details and send him a bill? Sen. John Cornyn, R-Tex., described Obama's news conference as "absolutely disgraceful" and said the president "should be ashamed." "I respect the office of the President of the United States, but I think the President has diminished that office and himself by giving the kind of campaign speeches that he gave yesterday," Cornyn said. He should be mo' than ASHAMED! He should be TARRED and FEATHUED and RUN OUTTA TOWN on a RAIL is what he oughta be! Imagine. Talkin' to white folks like he was some kinda EQUAL. Expecting "them" to do "their" jobs. Lahk I said, I jus' don't know what this world is comin' to! 55 Â
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Prince and the Monkeys A Prince had some Monkeys trained to dance. Being naturally great mimics of men's actions, they showed themselves most apt pupils, and when arrayed in their rich clothes and masks, they danced as well as any of the courtiers. The spectacle was often repeated with great applause, till on one occasion a courtier, bent on mischief, took from his pocket a handful of nuts and threw them upon the stage. The Monkeys at the sight of the nuts forgot their dancing and became (as indeed they were) Monkeys instead of actors. Pulling off their masks and tearing their robes, they fought with one another for the nuts. The dancing spectacle thus came to an end amidst the laughter and ridicule of the audience. MORAL: You Can Dress Some People Up Like Humans, But Deep Down Inside, Well‌ YOU know.
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IF I CALL YOU STUPID, TAKE IT IN THE SPIRIT IN WHICH IT WAS OFFERED. Let's clear something up. If I tell you, "You're stupid," it isn't ALWAYS meant to be an insult. Usually, I mean it as a simple observation of your mental abilities. Nothing more. For instance... When you look at me with your bright blue eyes glimmering with sincerity and tell me God created the World in Seven Days and that was 6,000 years ago, please don't be offended when I tell you "You're Stupid." No matter what one thinks about Darwin's theory, it is CLEAR that this tired old planet is billions of years old and that it has only had humans on it for, at the most, 400,000 years. All the intelligent design books and arguments use "facts" that are twisted and contorted to fit the religiofascist POV. Now, this doesn't prove that there IS no God. In fact, who the hell are WE to tell GOD how HE created the universe? So, if you believe God created the Earth in 7 days 6,000 years ago, you're stupid. Don't take it personally. And while we're on the subject of religion, let's all take a minute to remember the last time a religious prophecy came true in the modern era. Anybody? Anybody? Beuller? Beuller? Now, when you defend Sarah Palin and say that she'd be a great president and she's just what this country needs and you go so far as to attempt to change the Wikipedia entry on Paul Revere's ride to coincide with Caribou Barbie's panicked word salad... You're Stupid. 57 Â
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I mean, Jesus! Just LOOK at the woman. She got bored halfway through her term as governor. What do you think she'll do when the going gets tough in her presidency? Suddenly turn SMART? The woman is an idiot, and if you support her — you are stupid. And if you agree that humans have had no influence whatsoever in climate change... you are stupid. Every bit of scientific evidence... that is, evidence supported by scientists NOT in the pocket of the oil industry... says that the Earth's climate is changing and that change can be correlated year for year with the amount of greehouse gasses being pumped into the atmosphere. It is a scientific FACT, neither liberal nor conservative. Just FACT. But if you choose to listen to Rush and Glenn and Sean who get MONEY IN THEIR POCKETS from the fossil fuel industries to LIE to you about climate change... you're stupid. In fact, if you listen to Rush and Glenn and Sean about ANYTHING, you're stupid. "Mama always said stupid is as stupid does." All I know is that, unless you are learning disabled, you have a choice here. You don't HAVE to be stupid. You may not be able to become SMART in the commonly-accepted sense of the world, but you don't have to be led around by the nose by these people stuffing their pockets while serving their corporate industrialist masters. THEY know they are 58 Â
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lying. THEIR MASTERS know they are lying. And they know that STUPID people will continue to BELIEVE their lies! That's why we have Fox News! So there's a centralized place for stupid people to get their "news" from their corporate masters so they know where to go and when to line up to be fleeced. Even the STUPIDEST person has the opportunity to UN-STUPID him or herself. You just have to be willing to do it. Stupidity is 90 percent laziness. The Right Wingers pander to what you think you know about the world, your fears are justified, your prejudices are justified, but DON'T WORRY! THEY will take care of EVERYTHING! You just keep your eye on "So You Think You Can Dance" and "Master Chef," and let US figger out all that HARD stuff for you. Stupid people say stupid things like, "Duh! If Fox News is so BAD, Duh, howcum so many people WATCH it howcum, Duh?" The answer? There's LOTS of STUPID, LAZY PEOPLE in America! And YOU'RE ONE OF THEM. Stupid people are the ones who live in fear of the negro down the street, the Mexican coming to get their jobs and stab them, the Arabs and their Mooslimness which doesn't believe JESUS is lord and who should all be rounded up and monitored because America is a Judeo-Christian nation, although not so much emphasis on the former. Smart politicians get ELECTED by catering to you stupid people. They pretend Pepe and Pablo are coming to get your "termater pickin'" jobs. And you want to build fences. They pretend "The New Black Panthers" want to "kill Whitey" and you don't look at that guy in your office through the same eyes any more. Is HE one of THEM? They pretend that the MOOSLIMS are all bloodthirsty FANATICS who can HARDLY WAIT to sip cocktails laced with the blood of unborn Christians. 59
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If you believe these things, it is not an insult when I tell you... YOU are STUPID! If we could TAX stupid, we could wipe out the deficit overnight. If "Stupid" were PAINFUL, the NIH would be FLOODED with money from stupid people, the ones who think scientists "is all just interleckshul eggheads", to find a CURE for this agony-inducing ignorance. But you can't tax stupid. Stupid isn't painful. In fact, stupid people seem quite self-satisfied by their stupidity. When they consider a presidential candidate, they ask themselves, "Which one of these goomers would I like to have over for a beer?" That's the standard they apply. That's the standard Michele Bachmann and Sarah Palin and Herman Cain and Rick Santorum hope you will use to judge who should be the GOP nominee. The SMART ones like Romney and Pawlenty and Huntsman and Gingrich will have to PRETEND to be stupid — just like you — to get you to TRUST them. So, sleep well in your stupid little beds tonight. Don't trouble your stupid little brains with the deficit or the debt ceiling or climate change or unemployment or Medicare or ANYTHING that makes your headbone ACHE when you think about it. Your masters LIKE IT when you're stupid. Limbaugh, Hannity, Beck, where would they BE WITHOUT your stupidity? And when the day comes that we have to evacuate the cities because of the massive floods caused by climate change, it will be the stupid people who clog the tunnels and bridges and subway tubes and highways with their stupid corpses. And eons from now, when an alien society examines our remains, they will write our epitaph. "There were sentient creatures here, once. But holy Flork, what a bunch of DUMBASSES!” 60
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Farmer and the Snake ONE Winter a Farmer found a Snake stiff and frozen with cold. He had compassion on it, and taking it up, placed it in his bosom. The Snake was quickly revived by the warmth, and resuming its natural instincts, bit its benefactor, inflicting on him a mortal wound. "Oh," cried the Farmer with his last breath, "I am rightly served for pitying a scoundrel." MORAL: Helping Others Always Leads to Personal Misfortune
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ALABAMA SHOWS ARIZONA HOW TO DO RACIAL PROFILING Oh, sho 'nuff! Them sun baked fellers what they got over thar in Arizona made a good START at it with their SB1070 what makes it an illegal offense to look like a Mexican. But when it comes to good ol' fashioned separatin' the brown rice from the white rice, you can't beat the political minds of Alabammy! Why lookee here. They all went and passed them a new law what not only says the cops gotta check immigration status on people what gets pulled over for drivin' while brown... they done took it a step further! Accordin' to this here newsypaper story, lookit what we gone and did! The American Civil Liberties Union declared its intention Thursday to file a lawsuit opposing the law, arguing that it would invite racial profiling and require police to "demand 'papers' from people they stop whom they suspect are not authorized to be in the U.S." "This draconian initiative signed into law this morning by Gov. Robert Bentley is so oppressive that even Bull Connor himself would be impressed," said Wade Henderson, head of the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights, referring to Birmingham's notorious segregationist public safety commissioner from the civil rights era. "HB56 is designed to do nothing more than terrorize the state's Latino community." Hell, boy! Not just LATINOS! Neegrews! Mooslims! Libruhls! ANYbody what cain't prove he's a natural borned AMERICAN can git tossed into the hoosegow until they PROVES they was borned in the Yewnited States! 62 Â
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Lookee here! The measure will require public schools to determine the immigration status of students — an aspect not covered in an Arizona law that has been at the forefront as several U.S. states seek to crack down on illegal immigrants.
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Under the Alabama law, police must detain someone they suspect of being in the country illegally if the person cannot produce proper documentation when stopped for any reason. It also will be a crime to knowingly transport or harbor someone who is in the country illegally. The law imposes penalties on businesses that knowingly employ someone without legal resident status. A company's business license could be suspended or revoked. Now, say yer illegal Mexican neighbor wants you to give him a ride down to the welfare office to get his check? YOU CAIN'T DO IT! It's AGIN' the LAW for yew to give him a ride! Now, I ain't sure if that applies to bus drivers or not. But just to be safe, I would tell bus drivers not to let any o' them brown-skinned critters on the bus less'n they can shows a birth certificate — and a long form one, none o' them "certiffykits of live birth" like what the Muslim Obammer got away with fer so long! It's about time we got tough on them brown-skinned devils what been usin' up our emergency rooms and havin' their illegal anchor babies and such. Usin' our schools to eddykate their little brown young-uns? THAT's gonna stop. And just look at all the JOBS what will be available now! "...Gene Armstrong, mayor of Allgood, Alabama, a small community where the Hispanic population has grown to almost 50 percent, is not worried. "We managed in the past without illegal immigrants to pick the tomatoes here, and I haven't heard anyone say that if we sent them all home nobody would be left to do that work," Armstrong said." Yessirree! Them highly desirable 'mater pickin' jobs will be available to DECENT folk once again. And if we cain't find enough folks what is willin' to pick 'em and git paid fer it, we always got the right to secede from 64 Â
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the Union and, instead of deportin' them brown-skinned bastards, puttin' 'em to work for FREE like in the good old days! My great, great, great grandpappy didn't come alla way over here from England to kill off all the injuns just so's a bunch of brown-skilled savages can come back in and enjoy the fruits of liberty killin' them injuns gave us. No sir So thankee, Gubberner Bently! Come Sept. 1, me and Cooter and Spits and JimBob and Bobby Lee will load up the pick-em-up truck and start huntin' fer brown-skinned devils. And they gosh-durned WELL better have their papers! Yee-haw!
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FAUX NEWS EXCLUSIVE: HUMAN MALE AROUSED BY PICTURES OF NAKED FEMALES MEGYN KELLY: This just in to the Faux News Room, shocking details of a human male in New Jersey being aroused by sexy talk and photos. Let's go to Bill Hummer for details. Bill? HUMMER: Thank you Megyn. We've just received exclusive word here at Faux News that ANOTHER human male has been aroused by looking at photos of naked women and by having sexually-oriented conversations with them. KELLY: Didn't this guy learn his lesson from Anthony Weiner? HUMMER: Apparently not, Megyn. In fact, according to the man's wife, she was wondering what was taking him so long in the bathroom so she opened the door and saw him, and I quote, "pleasuring himself" to the images in Hustler Magazine. KELLY: Hustler? I've never heard of that one. Is it a clothing catalog of some sort. HUMMER: Shockingly, no, Megyn. It is a magazine filled with images of women, many of whom are wearing no clothing whatsoever and displaying their genitalia in a shockingly provocative fashion. KELLY: And when you say "pleasuring himself," Bill, what exactly are you talking about? HUMMER: Well, Megyn, one hesitates to say this out loud, but apparently, according to this man's wife, he was using one hand to hold the magazine and the other to manually arouse his own genitalia. 66 Â
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KELLY: Sweet Bleeding Jesus! I think I'm going to be sick. HUMMER: It's not an easy story to hear or to tell, Megyn. KELLY: Do you have a NAME for this pervert? HUMMER: Yes, Kelly. His name is Elmer McDiddle. Turns out he's a teller at the Jerseyville Savings and Loan. KELLY: All right, Bill, we'll let you go to dig out more of the sordid, sickening details. Now we join Shepherd Smith at the offices of the Jerseyville Savings and Loan. SMITH: Thank you Megyn. I'm standing here with Paul O'Prudence, President of the Jerseyville Savings and Loan. Sir, you heard the report from the McDiddle house of perversion. Will you ask this man for his resignation? 67
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O'PRUDENCE: I should say not. I am firing him as of this moment. Who wants to do business with a man who (gulp!) TOUCHES himself... (gasp!) DOWN THERE!!! SMITH: An understandable reaction. O'PRUDENCE: Would YOU want to touch MONEY that he touched with his HAND? I mean (gag...) SMITH: The disgust of a nation is with you, sir. Back to you, Megyn. KELLY: Thanks, Shep. We've just seen the first results of our Fox News Poll asking the question "What should be done with criminals who touch themselves in provocative locations." Turns out most folks didn't understand the question, so we're going to reword it to, "How Many Years in Jail Should A Man Who Touches His Own Genitalia Get?" Now we join Greta Van Sustern, or is it Sustren? I can never remember. She is with the mayor of Jerseyville. GRETA: Thank you, Megyn. I'm thanding here with Herbert McPure, Mayor of thith thmall New Jersy town. Mither Mayor, will you be evicting thith horrible fiend from your town. McPURE: Assuredly, Greta. As soon as we can round up the requisite amount of tar, feathers and a good, strong rail. GRETA: What are your firth thoughtth about a human male touching hith own genitalia while looking at pickthureth of naked women? McPURE: Have we learned NOTHING from the Anthony Weiner debacle? Touching yourself (gulp) down there (gasp) is a sin of the most disgusting nature. I've never done it, neither has any other decent human male I'm aware of. GRETA: I thould thertainly hope not. Back to you, Megyn. 68 Â
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KELLY: This just in to the Faux Newsroom. The McDiddle House of Self Abuse has been set afire by outraged neighbors. The toucher of his own genitalia having been dragged from the house and shot to death in his own front yard. So horrible the crime, so swift and just the punishment. Let's check that Faux News Poll again and see that 98 percent of Faux viewers feel that Jail is too GOOD for a lewd and disgusting pervert like McDiddle and his house should be set afire and he should be shot in front of his burning house. His wife should be shunned and branded with a letter A on her forehead. I'm joined now by Faux News Analyst Sarah Palin. Sarah, your take on this disgusting, inhuman act of self-degradation? PALIN: Well, Megyn, you can betcha that if I ever caught one of MY sons, Tripp or Stick or Melon or Fence touching himself like that we'd whup a little of the old Alaska Sharia Law on him cuz like it says in the Bible, if thy right hand offends me, I shall cut it off and cast it into the flames because it's better that your whole body be burned that lest you selfdefile it in such a dirty, dirty way. And don't you know that none of my boys, God love 'em, has ever shown even the SLIGHTEST interest in women? I couldn't be more proud of them as they march off to bed at night with their body builder magazines and bottles of lotion which I assume they're using to give each other rubdowns after working out to get the kinds of muscles those muscle guys in those muscle magazines there have because that's the sort of thing the ladies like. KELLY: Thank you, Sarah. For those of you just joining us, a New Jersey man has been drawn and quartered in front of his own home, which still burns after he was found by his wife touching himself (gasp) DOWN THERE (gulp) in a sexually aroused fashion after looking at images of naked women in a magazine. More on this disgusting, dehumanizing story when it comes in. Now, here's Bill O'Reilly to talk about his own brush with sex stuff. Bill? 69 Â
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FABLES FOR LIBERALS The Laborer and the Snake A Snake, having made his hole close to the porch of a cottage, inflicted a mortal bite on the Cottager's infant son. Grieving over his loss, the Father resolved to kill the Snake. The next day, when it came out of its hole for food, he took up his axe, but by swinging too hastily, missed its head and cut off only the end of its tail. After some time the Cottager, afraid that the Snake would bite him also, endeavored to make peace, and placed some bread and salt in the hole. The Snake, slightly hissing, said: "There can henceforth be no peace between us; for whenever I see you I shall remember the loss of my tail, and whenever you see me you will be thinking of the death of your son." MORAL: Some People, Despite Your Willingness to Make Peace, Insist on Being Assholes.
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THE MIDNIGHT RIDE OF SARAH PALIN
Listen my children and you shall hear A poem that was wrote by some long-ago queer. On someday in April, in Seventy-Six; Very few men are fast and quick Who remembers that famous day and year.
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He said to a guy, "If the British march By air or land from the town to-night, Hang a flashlight aloft in the churchey arch Of the South Church tower so the men can fight,-One if by land, and two if by sea; If you add them all up, then that makes THREE! Ready to ride and spread the news To all the villagers, yes even the Jews, For the country folk to be up with both arms."
Then he said "nitey nite" and with muffled oar Silently swam to the other shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where rumor has it their sailors were gay, The Somerset, British man-of-war; That's a race horse name, he laughed with a roar! Across the moon like a chocolate bar, Like a huge black guy, that was magnified By his own reflection in the tide. 72 Â
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Meanwhile, the guy through alley and street Wanders and watches, with eager ears, Till in the silence around him he hears The mumbling of men at the barrack door, The sound of Brits, and the tramp of boots, And the measured tread of the red coat galloots, Marching down in their boots on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old South Church, By the rickety stairs, with quietly tread, To the churchy chamber overhead, And startled the bats from where they did perch On the sober rafters, that round him shown Shadows and shapes that were his own,-By the trembling ladder, high and tall, To the openest window in the wall, Where he paused to listen and look down A moment on the windows of the town Hoping some woman was showing it all. 73 Â
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Beneath, in the graveyard, all were dead, In their night nite grave place on the hill, Wrapped in silence like dead folks will That he could hear, unlike the dead, The watchful night-wind, as it went Though no one can SEE wind, wherever it went And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" A moment he muttered, oh what the hell In this place and the hour, and the stinking dead I'm stuck in a belfry and not in bed;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy shadow far away, Where the river gets wider in some odd way,-A dark line of things like big parade floats On the rising tide OMG, it was BOATS! Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, With spurry boots and a heavy stride 74 Â
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On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. Now he ruffled his horse's side, And he looked at the landscape far and near, Then, like a girl, stamped the earth, And turned and tightened his massive girth; But mostly he watched with eager search The churchy tower of the Old South Church, As it rose above the graves on the hill, Lonely and spooky and ooky and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height Jiminey Crickets! He saw the light! He jumped on the saddle, the bridle he turns, But hesitates there till he gets a good sight! A second lamp in the churchy top burns. A hurry of horse feet in a village street, Lit up by the moonlight, because it was dark, And beneath, from the pavement, he hoofed up a spark Struck out by a horsie fearless and sweet; 75 Â
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That was all! And yet, through the dark without light, The fate of AMERICA riding that night; And the spark the horse foot caused as he ran in his flight, Started a fire that burned with hot heat.
He has left the village where he once mounted sheep, And beneath him, sleepy and broad and deep, Is the Mystic, greeting the ocean tides; And under the skirt things that skirt its edge, Now soft on the sand, now loud on the hedge, Is heard the foots of his horse as he rides. It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into some other town. He heard the crowing of the cock, A word he thought funny, And felt the damp of the river fog, That made his bowels runny. It was one by the village clock, When he galloped into some other town. 76 Â
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He saw the golden weather thing Dance in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, black and bare, Gaze at him with a spooky glare, As if they barely awake, half-assed Saw the real hard work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in some other town. He heard the singing of the slaves, And the twitter of negroes among the trees, And felt the breath of the slave town breeze Blowing over the people brown. And one was safe and asleep in his bed You know how those people be, Even though Paul was riding, To set them all free.
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You know the rest. In the books you have read How the British Regulars were killed until dead,--How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From under each fence and farmyard wall, Chased the traitorish British down the lane, Then crossing the fields to come out again Under the trees to start in with shootin', While pausing to write The Constitution.
So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his yell of alarm To every whatever village and farm,--A cry of defiance, and not of fear, He rode on a horse, not a big fancy bus, And had lumps on his hiney to save all of us! For, borne in this poem writ in the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of black presidents and need, The people will wake up, all brave, never failin' 78 Â
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Remember how people with guns made it easy, indeed For the mama grizzly Sarah Palin.
Now THAT'S AMERICANA!!!
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Lion and the Mouse A Lion was awakened from sleep by a Mouse running over his face. Rising up angrily, he caught him and was about to kill him, when the Mouse piteously entreated, saying: "If you would only spare my life, I would be sure to repay your kindness."
The Lion laughed and let him go. It happened shortly after this that the Lion was caught by some hunters, who bound him by strong ropes to the ground. 80 Â
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The Mouse, recognizing his roar, came and gnawed the rope with his teeth and set him free, exclaiming: "You ridiculed the idea of my ever being able to help you, expecting to receive from me any repayment of your favor; now you know that it is possible for even a Mouse to help a Lion." The Lion immediately swept the mouse up with a mighty paw, popped it into its mouth and swallowed it whole. MORAL: If You’re a Lion, Why Take Crap from a Mouse?
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LETS PRETEND TO BE JOURNALISTS! OK, kids. It's "Pretend Time!" This is where we all sit around in a circle and PRETEND to be something we're not. In today's "Pretend Time," we're going to pretend to be journalists in the CNN Newsroom. They play "Pretend Time" every day, too! THEY pretend to be JOURNALISTS! OK, as the one here with actual journalistic experience (30+ years in print/radio), I'll be the managing editor. I'll assign roles as we go along. Just read your part out loud and we'll PLAY together. Won't that be FUN! Let's begin! COPY BOY/GIRL: Jeepers, Chief! A story just crossed the wire and it might just be DYNAMITE! MANAGING EDITOR: Let's have a look. Hmmm. Seems as if Andrew Breitbart has posted a story on his blog indicating that Congressman Anthony Weiner... NEWSROOM STAFF: (hushed snickering) MANAGING EDITOR: OK, everyone. Grow up. (Back to reading)...anyway, Breitbart is saying that the congressman seems to have "tweeted" a photo of a bulge in his underwear to some young college girl. Hmmm... Breitbart. He's that guy that tried to ruin Shirley Sherrod's career, painting her as a racist by running a selectively-edited video. WOLF BLITZER: Yes. He may have... MAY have... a reputation for being a sleaze merchant. A sleaze merchant. 82 Â
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DANA BASH: But don't you (blink) think that (blink) we ought to (blink) at least (blink) take a look (blink) at the evidence (blink) that Brietbart (blink) says he (blink) has? MANAGING EDITOR: How many times does a guy have to get caught lying before we tell ourselves, "Hmm.... maybe this guy is a liar"? WOLF: I would say, at least, six. CANDY CROWLEY: Heck, we gave Bush and HIS people a lot more bites at the apple than THAT! There's probably some former Bush aide on our air lying about something RIGHT NOW! MANAGING EDITOR: OK, let's see what we have. It's a screen cap of what purports to be Weiner's "YFrog" page. 83
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SANJAY GUPTA: Why frog? Why not chicken? Why not goose? MANAGING EDITOR: Knock it off, Chico. JOHN KING: Well, can't we just run the story anyway and say "Breitbart reports that Weiner sent a photo of his Weiner to a college girl?" We report press releases all the time as if they were real news. MANAGING EDITOR: I don't know. There just seems to be something a little stinky here. WOLF: That might be me. Tacos for lunch. MANAGING EDITOR: Let's hash this out a little further. Now, we know the Tweet was sent from Weiner's account to this college girl. Weiner claims his account was hacked. Anyone here know how to hack a Twitter account? (ALL HANDS GO UP) MANAGING EDITOR: S'what I thought. So do I. So, anyone can get a picture of some guy's underwear bulge, photoshop it to a screen cap from Weiner's YFrog account... GUPTA: Why not turkey? Why not fish? Why frog? MANAGING EDITOR: Enough outta you! Like I was saying, they could phony up something like that, hack into someone's Twitter account, send it to everyone on that person's list and then remove all traces of themselves from the account. KING: Easy as pie! CROWLEY: Mmmm! Pie! 84 Â
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MANAGING EDITOR: OK, I think I see where we're going with this. We have a questionable photo. We have a right wing nut job with a history of publishing falsified and misleading information about liberals as if it were God's own truth. We have a Congressman with an oddly-ironic last name. So, what do we do with this story? ALL: WE GIVE IT THE 24/7 FULL COVERAGE TREATMENT AND REPORT IT AS IF IT WERE TRUE, AND WE GIVE BREITBART FREE TV TIME TO COME ON AND LIE ABOUT IT, AND WE SEND REPORTERS TO HOUND WEINER AND QUESTION WHATEVER ANSWER HE GIVES UNTIL HE SNAPS! MANAGING EDITOR: THAT'S why you're the "Best Political Team on Television!" And... SCENE! Great job everyone. And wasn't that FUN???
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FABLES FOR CONSERVATIVES The Miser and His Gold A MISER sold all that he had and bought a lump of gold, which he buried in a hole in the ground by the side of an old wall and went to look at daily. One of his workmen observed his frequent visits to the spot and decided to watch his movements. He soon discovered the secret of the hidden treasure, and digging down, came to the lump of gold, and stole it. The Miser, on his next visit, found the hole empty and began to tear his hair and to make loud lamentations. A neighbor, seeing him overcome with grief and learning the cause, said, "Pray do not grieve so; but go and take a stone, and place it in the hole, and fancy that the gold is still lying there. It will do you quite the same service; for when the gold was there, you had it not, as you did not make the slightest use of it." The Miser picked up a rock and beat the neighbor over the head with it until he was dead. MORAL: Bad Enough to be Ripped Off by an Employee, but to Have Some Jerk Make Fun of You Afterwards? He DESERVED to Die!
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I’M RON PAUL, AND I’D LOVE TO BE YOUR FINAL PRESIDENT Hi. I'm Texas Congressman Ron Paul. I'm like Ross Perot, except I'm no quitter. Every time we have one of these here Presidential elections I throw my tiny little hat in the ring. Use to was that nobody paid no attention to me because my beliefs are so far out of the mainstream that nobody took me seriously. Guess what, America. Look who's mainstream NOW! Them Tea Party fellers what met in Town Halls and held their rallies all over the country, THEY made me mainstream! See, thing of it is, they AGREE with me. They don't UNDERSTAND Government, so they don't LIKE it none. And when I'm elected President, Government is gonna be the one thing you don't gotta worry about no more, not at all. We're gonna go back to the old Articles of Confederation. But we're still gonna CALL it "The Constitution" so we don't confuse anybody unnecessarily. Y'all know my philosophy by now. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. And if it IS broke, throw it away. And that's what we're gonna do with this here federal government. We don't NEED no federal government. We got STATE governments. Look at the name of the country. In the Declaration of Independence the country was legally named the "united States of America." They didn't even capitalize the word "united." Because they didn't WANT a strong, central government.
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We're spending way too much money doing things to keep people from killing themselves due to their own stupidity. That's gonna stop when I'm president.
You're dumb enough to drink tainted milk or eat food with e-coli bacteria in it? DIE! You're dumb enough to reach under yer damn lawn mower while the blade is still turning? DIE! You're stupid enough not to purify your own water? DIE! You're too lazy to save for your own retirement? DIE! You wanna drink and drive? That's yer business. If you kill innocent people, you will go to a state jail paid for by state taxes... not FEDERAL taxes. Them highways is in YOUR state. YOU pay to fix them. Why should I have to pay to fix a damn highway in Rhode Island. I've never even BEEN to Rhode Island. You want your kids educated? Educate 'em at home or pony up the cash to send them to private schools. FEMA? Forget about it. Hurricanes 89
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and tornadoes hit the same damn places year after year. WHAT ARE YOU LIVING THERE FOR? And earthquakes? FIX THE DAMAGE YOURSELF! We don't GET no earthquakes in Texas. MOVE HERE if you don't want to be pickin' rubble out of your massive open head wound after a quake. Bottom line. If you can afford to pay for it, you can have it. Health care. A decent retirement. Food on your table. If you CAN'T afford to pay for it, why in Holy Hell should I have to pay for it FOR you? And unlike these other so-called conservatives who want to keep a strong military presence around the world, to HELL with that. We need JUST enough military to protect our borders. So we'll cut the Defense budget and line the Mexican border with military bases, concertina wire, land-mines and biological weapons to keep these filthy "immigrants" out of our country. I will be your final President, America. Cuz after I'm done reshaping our federal government, there ain't gonna BE no federal government. So, no need for a Congress or a Senate or a PRESIDENT even. Just a benevolent "Decider" to act as a "referee" in disputes between states. We leave everything else up to the PEOPLE. The people in Mississippi want to reinstate slavery? That's their right! Vote for it. It's your state! The people in California want to hand out heroin to third graders? Groovy, dude! Vote for it. It's your state! The people in Iowa want to allow a certain amount of hog shit in their drinking water? FINE! It's your state. It's your water! VOTE for it. Man wants to marry another man, a goat, a dog, a doorknob. FINE! If your state says it's OK, then it's OK with President Paul. 90 Â
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So vote for me, and let's put all this federal government nonsense behind us once and for all. Thank you.
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IT’S HARD OUT THERE FOR A CEO (with sincere apologies to Three 6 Mafia)
You know it's hard out here for a CEO (you aren't knowing) When he's trying to get this money for his penthouse (you aren't knowing) For the Lexus and gas money spent (you aren't knowing) [1] Because a whole lot of unions talking crap (you aren't knowing) [2] Will have a whole lot of workers talking crap (you aren't knowing)
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[Djay] In my eyes I have seen some crazy things in the board room Gotta couple Jews working on my trust fund for me But I gotta keep my ass tight like Madoff on date night Like taking from the poor don't know no better, I know it's my right I have had people killed, I have done crooked deals I read people live in poverty with no meals It's messed up where they live, but that's just how it is It might be new to you, but it's been like this for years It's blood sweat and tears for them, I just don't give a shit I'm trying to get richer before the Feds catch up with it I want more things but it's hard for a CEO But I'm praying and I'm hoping to God I don't slip, yeah
[Chorus]
[Djay] Man it seems like I'm ducking dodging audits everyday Unions hating on me cause I got workers I don't pay 93 Â
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But I gotta stay paid, gotta stay above water Couldn't keep up with my payments for my yacht in the harbor Wall Street's where I'm from, I'm Cayman Island bound Where rich folks send their cash and it's never, never found Man these unions think we're callous, and we don't give a shit But we're squeezing from the workers and we're never gonna quit Wait I got a white Jaguar, and a black Beemer too But my corporation "owns" them (thanks again, accountant Jew!) That's the way the game goes, gotta keep it transparent Say the lawyers on my staff that are paid for by my parents [Chorus]
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I Accidentally Drugged, then Drowned, then Smothered My Baby, Didn't Tell the Cops or Call 911, and Then Went Partying. Forgive Me? I'm glad I don't live in Florida. I would hate to have to sit on the jury judging Casey Anthony. For one thing, I would probably have to ask the judge to recuse me. You see... I have this secret I've been keeping from my new friends and family here in Maryland. I, also, have drugged, drowned, smothered and left a baby to be eaten by raccoons in the woods, went partying, and never bothered to tell anybody about it until people started asking, "Hey, didn't you have a kid?" So I can sympathize with her. Of course, my case bears no similarity whatsoever to what happened to poor little Caylee. My baby was a boy... Kevin Lee, or K. Lee for short. This all happened years ago in North Dakota, and I've since been acquitted by a jury of my peers. (Took 'em awhile to find 12 chubby, baldheaded Democrats in North Dakota, not to mention the 4 alternates.) What happened was this. K. Lee was a pain in my ass. The little bastard was a 24/7 crying, screaming poop machine. I could tell by the time he was two that K. Lee was destined to be the Anti-Christ, so with the Lord as my guide, I drugged the little asshole, threw him in the swimming pool (it was my neighbor's pool, and he was throwing one of his legendary poolside pig roasts at the time, so nobody noticed one more body floating face down in the pool), then after everyone else went home, I took the little bastard out of the pool, drove to a thick patch of woods (I drove for hours looking for the proper 95 Â
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place... imagine my surprise when I realized they found his little bones 5 minutes walking distance from my house)... and dumped him like a bag of trash. To make sure his soul couldn't escape his body and be reincarnated into my NEXT child, I put duct tape over his nose and mouth... as well as other places. 96 Â
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Then, it was Old Settlers Days, a pretty big party time in my neck of the woods, so the next several weeks were a blur. I'm told there were pictures taken of me in lewd, suggestive positions none of which revealed my secret anguish of having thrown K. Lee into the woods like a bag of old beer cans. (Which is the tradition in North Dakota.) Then, about a month later, I was waking up from a beer and Jim Beam fueled blackout on the steps of the county courthouse. One of the cops came out and laughed, then a look came over his face. "Hey, dinchoo useta have a kid, hey?" I said yeah, and then the cop asked who was watching the kid and I said nobody cuz I was a widower (they STILL ain't found HER body and since there ain't no statute of limitations on murder, no matter HOW much she deserved it, that's all I'm gonna say on that). Then they wanted to SEE the baby, and I said "Not without a warrant!" And they had a warrant in 3 minutes so I had to let them in my house. They dug through a baby's bedroom filled with filthy diapers. "Cripes," I said (in the traditional North Dakota fashion), "that many dirty diapers, you'd figger there's gotta be a baby in there SOMEWHERE!" The cops didn't buy it, of course, and then some of the neighbors started gossiping about how I was seen throwing K. Lee into the pool at the pig roast. "He wanted to go swimming," I said. "Then why did he go straight to the bottom of the pool and stay there for an hour before he started to float?" the cops asked. I told them that I was barely a high school graduate so the ways of floating babies were foreign to me. That's when one of the cops hit me over the head with a stick and I woke up three days later chained to a wall in the county jail. Turns out some of the other neighbors saw me come back, fish the little bastard out of the pool, put the duct tape over his face, dump him into a hefty bag, then 97 Â
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sling the whole package into the trunk of my car. The trial was a joke. I had perfectly reasonable answers to all the prosecution witnesses. Like when the UPS guy took the stand and identified me as the guy he delivered the chloroform to? "Is that they guy," the DA asked. "Yep," he said in the traditional North Dakota fashion. "I told him what it was and he just said 'Gimme!' and slammed the door." And that's what saved me. Turns out I didn't SIGN for the chloroform. The UPS guy faked my signature. (Everybody knows everybody in North Dakota.) And without the chloroform in evidence to prove that I had drugged the little bastard, they had no foundation to prove that I knew the kid was unconscious when I tossed his little ass into the pool. And I was able to argue that when I came back after the pig roast and found him floating, I fished him out the best I could, duct-taped his mouth shut to keep the night air out of his lungs (they still think the night air is BAD for you in North Dakota), and tossed him into the bag and then into the trunk for the 35-mile drive to the nearest hospital in Bismarck. That's how I explained getting lost, and dumping the little bastard in the woods. "I told him I was gonna go find the hospital, and then come back for him," I said. "But I couldn't find a hospital so after awhile I just kinda gave up on the whole idea." As far as the month of getting drunk and lewd behavior? I was stupid with grief. Turns out they nailed the UPS guy for the murder. And I moved to Maryland. Not Florida. Which makes me happy, cuz I would NEVER be able to serve on the Casey Anthony jury. 98 Â
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BLOWING THE LID OFF THE GOP CONSPIRACY Please don't let the fact that I'm in fear for my life keep you from reading this. Please don't let the fact that they may be coming to get YOU after you READ this keep you from reading it. There are some things more important than self-preservation. A well-aged cheddar, for instance. Have you ever tasted a slice of well-aged cheddar? Magnificent. But back to the point. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. I was too busy writing this column to warn this nation about the vast GOP conspiracy. It was nitey-nite time and I had already taken my nitey-nite pills and was in the process of taking the doggies out for their nitey-nite wee-wee. I was working the second dog (well, it doesn't really seem fair to call it WORK, since they seem to enjoy it so much) when I caught a glimpse of something reflecting the streetlight. It was a CD-ROM case, stuck into a dog, uh... "monument"... left earlier in the day. (My German shepherd, for instance, leaves "monuments" that can be seen by the naked eye from outer space.) I rushed back into the house with the CD-ROM case. Then I rushed back out to get the dog, who was standing there with confused look on her face, like, "What? I'm free now? I can just leave?" Then I rushed back in, rinsed off the portion of the CD-ROM case that had been in contact with the "monument", withdrew the CD-ROM within, and shivered when I saw the writing on the disc. "Listen to this." It said. OK, I realized I was shivering because the kitchen window was still cracked open and it was cold outside. So I shut the window, popped the CD-ROM into my iMac and listened. What I heard shocked and appalled me. In that order. I spent the entire night transcribing what sounded like... 99 Â
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"THE FIRST MEETING OF THE HOUSE AND SENATE REPUBLICAN CAUCUS AFTER THEY TOOK OFFICE IN JANUARY 2011." It was clear they were laying out their plans for the destruction of America as we know it. I will identify the speakers as I recognize their voices. In some cases, that was impossible. Paul Ryan, for instance. His voice is just so... ordinary. Read on if you dare, patriot. 100 Â
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Read on! (Transcript begins) BOEHNER: Did you guys get a look at the size of my gavel? That bugger is HUGE! McCONNELL: We're all quite aware of the size of your gavel, John. BOEHNER: ...and all shiny and everything. Like Thor's hammer! McCONNELL: Look, shut up, Let's get this meeting underway. Have we swept the room for recording devices. UNIDENTIFIED: Yeah, everything but that table lamp right in the middle of the table. We didn't have time to get to it, but if you want, we could... McCONNELL: Nah, never mind. It's probably clean. All right, John. You're the new House Speaker. So speak. BOEHNER: My friends and fellow Republicans, this is a glorious day. This is the day when the rewritten history books will show how America was transformed from a land of hope and opportunity to a land where the wealthy industrialist can operate free of government restrictions and regulations. (Assorted murmuring, "hear, hear" and the like.) BOEHNER: Now, the first thing we're gonna do is pretend to take the government to the brink of closing by putting outrageous social policy riders on the continuing resolution to extend the budget to the end of the fiscal year. We'll insist that we're gonna stick to 'em, come hell or high water. Then, at the 11th hour, after we've gotten that milquetoast negro in 101
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the White House to cave on most of our demands, we'll pull 'em all back from the brink and say we're compromising. McCONNELL: Brilliant. We make it look like WE'RE giving up something like... PENCE: DEFUNDING PLANNED PARENTHOOD? (General murmurs of agreement.) McCONNELL: Exactly. We let them HAVE that and then we go around saying what a great sacrifice we've made to keep the government going. That will take us to the NEXT crisis. John? BOEHNER: Thank you, Mitch. Sometime in May, we're forecast to hit the debt ceiling. Now we all know that we raised the debt ceiling seven times under the Bush administration. Now, our job will be to convince the American idiot that we've never HEARD of such a thing, we're shocked that such a thing would even be suggested, and damned if we're going to let it happen without some severe, draconian, life-threatening spending cuts. BACHMANN: My cat's breath smells like cat food! BOEHNER: That's nice, Michele. Anyway, let me turn the floor over to the esteemed Congressman from Wisconsin, Paul Ryan. Paul? RYAN: Thank you Mr. Speaker. This plan is so simple in its execution, so diabolical in its effect on the liberal agenda that I actually get goosebumps talking about it. First, I'll present a "budget" for fiscal year 2012. Of course, no way it gets even CLOSE to being adopted because it would result in our being unable to even turn on the lights in DC. That lamp in the center of the table with the blinking red light on it, for instance. Then, while everyone's thinking about that, we pull the 102 Â
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brinkmanship act that the Speaker discussed. Once everyone is feeling all warm and fuzzy that we heroically sacrificed to keep the government opening, we bash their skulls against the debt ceiling. McCONNELL: You mean, we actually will NOT raise the debt ceiling? RYAN: BINGO, Senator McConnell! We let the government default on its loans, our credit rating goes into the toilet, no one lends us money to continue operating the government, except at the kind of interest rates you'd see on "The Sopranos" where ya gotta pay the vig first, and then the principal. The economy collapses, the unemployment rate skyrockets, we appear on television in sackcloth and ashes and say, "we told you this would happen with all this runaway spending. Don't blame US! Blame OBAMA!" BOEHNER: BRILLIANT! ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! McCONNELL: Wait. Paul. Have you run this idea past our constituents? CANTOR: The taxpayers? KYL: The GOP National Committee? McCONNELL: NO, you morons! The people who GOT us here. The Koch Brothers. The industrialists who control the media — Viacom, Disney, Time Warner, News Corp, Comcast and GE. OUR constituents! RYAN: Of course. They're all on board. The Koch brothers will use their Tea Party machine to convince the middle class saps that this is somehow a GOOD thing for them. Limbaugh and Hannity have already been briefed and are working on their talking points. Rupert Murdoch will 103
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have the Wall Street Journal call our actions "genius" and of course we can count on Fox News. Also, CNN being owned by Time Warner, ABC being owned by Disney, CBS being owned by Viacom and NBC --yes, even their liberal shill MSNBC — will do whatever GE and Comcast tell them to. Remember how we got rid of Olbermann? They'll run stories about how in tough times, tough measures are needed. McCONNELL: Then, with our nation defaulting on its loans, no one lending us any money to spend, in a month or two it will be all over. Obama and the Democrats get all the blame. We promise to fix things. It worked in 2010. Americans, being largely a stupid, barely literate flock of forgetful sheep, will see things our way. Republicans get elected, across the board. Only now, we have one of OUR boys in the White House. Bring in the ringer, fellas. (There is much surprised murmuring as someone walks into the room.) McCONNELL: Donald, you're famous for running companies into the dirt. Are you up to the challenge of sitting in the Oval Office while we run America into the dirt. TRUMP: You got it, pally! BOEHNER: Then it's settled. We ruin the economy, we reduce the United States to what was originally intended in the Articles of Confederation — a group of sovereign states free to set their own rules with a weak and impotent central government. And our corporate masters are free to rape and pillage and loot and plunder. (The assembled group begins to chant... "rape and pillage and loot and plunder, rape and pillage and loot and plunder, rape and pillage and loot and plunder... and this is where the recording ends. Apparently Michele Bachmann jumped up to dance a hootchie kootchie dance on the table and broke the lamp with the recording device.) 104
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I shared this with you at the risk of my own life. You risked your life to read this. But now you know. You are aware. And you know what? There isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Erase your hard drive, burn your computer. That way they won't have any evidence to use against you when they complete their ultimate takeover. Which there is no way to stop. We are powerless. There is nothing we can do... Except... WAKE THE F*CK UP and START PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! Thank you.
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AND NOW, A GALLERY OF FUNNY FOTOS FOR LIBERAL KIDS TO LAUGH AT!
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Speaker Boehner Reassures His Constituency
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Don’t tell me this thought never occurred to you!
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She thought the NEWSWEEK Photo was bad? 109
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Charity Begins with your Own People 110
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AH YES! THE AMERICAN VOTER! EVER ALERT! EVER ASTUTE!
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APPARENTLY HE HAD THE IDEA AFTER WATCHING ‘THE UNTOUCHABLES’
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THANK YOU, MR. SPEAKER! 113
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IT APPEARS THE GOP HAD SOME FINAL DEMANDS
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THOSE AREN’T “MIGRAINES”, MICHELLE…
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SEE? I PICK ON DEMOCRAT IDIOTS, TOO!
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UNFORTUNATELY, GOP IDIOTS ARE EVERYWHERE
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MOMMY! SCARY! 118
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RACISTS HATE IT WHEN YOU CALL THEM “RACISTS”
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GOVERNMENT OF THE KOCH BROTHERS, FOR THE KOCH BROTHERS, BY THE KOCH BROTHERS
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MAYBE SOMEDAY, WE’LL WAKE UP 121
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR It’s been an interesting career. I’ve been a radio disc jockey, news director, program director, talk show host, and I was one of the original broadcasters at XM Satellite Radio. I’ve been a newspaper editor, writer, reporter and columnist. In between radio and news gigs, I drove 18-wheeler for a living. I eventually found myself working for the federal government, as a writereditor with the Clinical Center at the National Institutes of Health, a job from which I was forced by Parkinson’s disease in March 2011. Parkinson’s disease… It was just about three weeks after my 45th birthday in 2000 when I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. In 2007 while working at a federal agency as a writer and podcaster, telling other people about the importance of clinical trials, I heard about and volunteered for an experimental brain surgery to determine whether or not “deep brain stimulation” could be done on patients in the earlier stages of the disease. The purpose of the clinical trial is to prove that DBS, when done earlier in the progression of the disease, might just slow down or stop the degeneration that is an inevitable part of the disease. “Put On Your Parky Face!” is the story of my “Parkinson’s Decade” from being diagnosed in 2000, to having the surgery in 2007, through today. The story is told in a humorous, satirical, almost jovial first-person, conversational style. It’s a book that should be on the reading list of anyone who has (or loves someone who has) Parkinson’s disease. 100 percent of the author proceeds go to the National Parkinson Foundation. I currently blog about my PD experiences and I write satire about world and national politics. My most recent book of satire is “Why I Hate America, Freedom and Everything Decent,” available at CreateSpace.com and Amazon. I have a left-wing point of view and little patience for tea party nonsense. Feel free to check my blog, share your comments and just say “hello”! 122
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In my dreams… 123
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Hey, Kid! I want YOU to grow up to THINK FOR YOURSELF and NOT be led around by the nose by Conservative morons who don’t care about you other than as grist for their money mill! 124
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Don’t let them steal your freedom! The next generation of Americans needs to be stronger, smarter, more aware… MORE ALERT! 125
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Don’t let them catch you napping.
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OTHER BOOKS BY BILL SCHMALFELDT PUT ON YOUR PARKY FACE – Available at lulu.com and createspace.com, as well as Amazon.com and B&N.com. Hardcover, Paperback, PDF E-book, Kindle, Nook. WHY I HATE AMERICA, FREEDOM and EVERYTHING DECENT – Available at createspace.com, Amazon.com, B&N.com. Paperback, Kindle, Nook. OUTRAGEOUS ACCUSATIONS AND DAMNABLE LIES – Available at createspace.com, Amazon.com, B&N.com. Paperback, Kindle, Nook. CAN YOU BE A TEA PARTY MEMBER AND STILL CALL YOURSELF “CHRISTIAN?” -- createspace.com, Amazon.com, B&N.com. Paperback, Kindle, Nook.
My Blog: -- Parky Bill’s Wholesome Homestyle Brain Flakes, is at http://billschmalfeldt.com
My Technorati Blog, “Observations of a Brain Damaged Troll” can be found at http://technorati.com/politics/feature/troll/
Check out my YouTube channel at http://youtube.com/bschmalfeldt
Be my Facebook Fan at https://www.facebook.com/ParkyBillBrainFlakes
Tweet me at http://twitter.com/brainflakes2011 127
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Thanks for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it!
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