The Journal
Serving the Metropolitan Area
Since 1872
October 19th
DEAD CAT REFORM!
By Jack Parnell - retired Congressman and Independent Presidential
candidate
Syndicated
by Acme Features
Who could have imagined
them elections as have already transpired in this chaotic century - let alone
forecast the next?
Were hubris was
bottled and sold by liters, this great and powerful President Joe would snap his
fingers and bring the Russian invaders to heel; the former President resting in
a rest home hastily set up in a cabana at Mar a Lago, that Vice, Cabinet and
Presidential factotums and relatives laboring under indictments and our
divided, dysfunctional Congress would have, between them, retired the National Debt,
brought Zazzbo, Kim Da One
and Comandante Cuadros to heel and set the e-con'my back on track instead of alternatin'
the speculative bubble with their dead-cat bounce.
Now that our polls say
the same old Senate as is popular among five
percent of the voters will be mostly returned to office due to the money and the gerrymandering
which has, at least, kept the ‘Pubs competitive in Congress; soon enough, now,
them big parties will both have started nominating their 2024 candidates: Djonald Undeterred, probably, or if his heart or sentience
fails, creatures as seem mostly like the 2020 rejects... the Wife or the Son
(and brother) or son-in-law, most likely again (since so many teavengelical Holy Ghosters like
the Unhanged Former Veep are in the running that
they’ll likely cancel one another out). Or maybe there will be an upset – some
scandal or another making America ungreat again, and
an old, dark hyena will slip into the elephant sanctuary… this Mormon, that
other Mormon from China, the used-to-be Attorney General, the judge turned
televangelist or, maybe, the televangelist turned Guv'nor.
The black doctor,
Florida guv’nor or pizza guy, pillow guy (as needs
the money which a Presidential salary would offer - maybe one of the Spanish
guys or, maybe, Condoleezza! Might be some ghost of Brother Ross will throw
his raggedy ol’ Stetson back into that ring again for old times' sake on behalf
of this party or that. Nader too... or
somebody like him that the Russians can rouble-rouse.
If RFK Junior can form his own Party of
One and poach enough Democratic votes to bring Djonald
back and, maybe, get appointed Drug Car – why not some Bush kid? Or, stage left, some newer wolverine - another
businessman – not Cuban, maybe the Tesla guy (if we can scratch that anti-Canadian
Amendment), the Starbucks billionaire coffee guy as is grinding the grounds of early primary states and putting the fear in
the twenty-some so-called legitimate Democrat leftovers? Or the donkeys go for Hollywood jackass… why not
Clooney or some cop show hero. Or the
Joker (too bad cows can’t vote – he’d have some interesting theological exchanges
with Beto whilst debating)? Hell, even that Martin Shrecky
dude as raised the price of pills to fight off zombie plagues might go from the
Big House to the White House. Or winners
like Martin or Charlie Sheen, maybe, or Kiefer Sutherland or psychic or the chicken
seller. Or one or another of those hedge
fund guys comes back. A Libertarian…
some Verminous sort as’ll wrangle three percent of
the vote, maybe the guy from KISS, as might strike four? Or the cyber-killer, or magician. Roseanne Barr, as tried to wrestle Hawaii’s
Congressional seat from Tulsi,.
Some old lefty like Lizzo Warren, again,
or else the Bern or an un-nominatable old radical
centrist like Rudy G. or Bloomberg or Lieberman. Maybe, too, that Jesse
Jackson-Al Sharpton party gets off the ground, the Christians... and a dozen
other spoilers, as might even keep our next President from going into office
with even a forty percent plurality.
Correct me if I’m wrong,
but won’t Jared Kushner be of age come 2024? He was already running the foreign policy parts
of the country under Daddy’s regime and has the current Arab-Israeli war to his
credit, while Ivanka wrangled with Dominicans and
Palestinians at the UN and the then-and-future President of the United States
counted those imaginary lizards scarpering across his bedclothes whilst devouring
cheeseburgers under that tent at Mar a Lago. And he was appointed Economic Recovery Plenipotentiary
(ERP!) and we know how that went.
And then, there’s Hunter Biden
who, with Erik Trump could make a good cold fusion ticket. (Not Don Junior though, he’s too smart... reads
books, or says he does. Writes ‘em, at
least.)
If the CNC did shape up as
a new party, running Austin, myself or someone else as wanted the job... maybe,
even, the both of us under two new parties… we could declare
moral victory if we picked off a few states, threw the mess into the House of
Representatives, then went home to celebrate while the Congress things threw up
their hands and turned America over to the military. Could do that!
Won't though. We're in
to win, not spoil. No Naders in this man's CNC! Not even a Perot!
I'd hope the Conks
would do a better job of keeping our issues up front than did the Reforms or
Greens, and focus on the facts. Which are that our two institutional parties
lick the boots of their Chinese, Wall Street or Arab paymasters and distract
the voters with scapegoats carved cravenly as gasoline mobs of Nairobi, who
kept their corrupt dictator seated by rushing out with cries of "Mwizi!" (or "thief!") and setting
totally innocuous bystanders aflame whenever the finger of scandal began
circling the heads of the powers as be.
The Trumpster and the
Since the ex-Aygee, that one as lost his last real race to a dead man
and fears calico cats, has all but stated anyone raising the matter of who really
bombed St. Louis is unpatriotic, maybe a traitor, I'll pass on to simpler times
in simpler places.
In America since, at
least, Strom Thurmond's ol’ '48, electoral division's been less economic and geographical,
more racial (cunningly coded), generational and cultural. Ancient concepts of
liberal and conservative are more or less useless as coherent ideological
statements; only as character defects which each are fond of flinging at the
other like dead cats... hey, I'll admit to flinging my share of pussies at the
both! The liberal's a fag, and the conservative, having lost its
balancing-the-checkbook imperative, is code for them as want to turn the clock
back to the fifties… 1950, those some; 1850, the most.
An age of political
floundering's dropped down upon us. This Republic founded by adventurers,
liberated by patriots, made wealthy by innovators and secure by dogface heroes
is being dragged back to the status of spectacle and spectatorship... a mob, no
better than those Romans as filled arenas dedicated to Caligula and Nero to
watch lions eat Christians; duly destined to themselves be eaten by
those Christians, in the end. I mean the
Romans and their Gods… lions, these days, just get shot by dentists.
Democracy, of
course, was already old when BC turned AD. The Greek politicians,
a millennium or so after winning that war in Turkey over there, had to leave town if voted out'n
office with broken pieces of pottery called ostraka...
they'd be ostracized. Stealing stamps, complainin'
on airplanes… not to mention them airport restroom follies, let alone hanky panky with the Russians… and turnin'
pages finally got the likes of Newt, Rosty, Larry, Flynn
and Foley out like gum from under our shoes, but they, at least, kept their
homes and pensions (‘cept that FBI guy as pissed off
POTUS, or was he CIA) McQuade? Or Newt who, at least, keeps coming back from the
Realm Below, like ol’ Dicky Nixon and various others
of the walking dead as mostly inhabit the television… if’n
you call winning the nomination of the Natural Law Party a resurrection. But there's never a shortage of chittering,
chattering seventy-something termites to take their place.
Been said that now, with
President Joe riding high and Mike Gravel finally giving up the ghost, ol’ Jerry
Brown’s thinking of changing his mind ‘bout retirement and hauling the Presidency
out of the seventies and into the eighties! (Not the decades in the Twentieth Century, the
ages of the office-seekers!)
People crave modern ways
and toys, as NWO poster boy Ithiel de Sola Pool once
pronounced: "seeing commodities, seeing how people live or hearing popular
music." Trouble is, them as see want to have, and can't.
Dissatisfaction follows… in China or Iran no less than here. "They make
you feel you're not a complete or total person unless you use that particular
brand of deodorant," says Chuck Smith from stage right. "You can't
truly obtain full manhood until you use that particular cologne. The whole
system is based upon creating a fictitious need in your mind... for the luxuries,
the ease, the soft things in life." Ask Eliot Spitzer, John-Boy Edwards, the Downtown
Abbey Schlockmeister, the Wienermobile and the Weinsteinermobile!
Ask the Secret Service.
Thus the pandering
to microconstituencies as play off against each other
in the negative advertising to depress voter turnout! That's part of the
plan. If the polls show you down, say 45 to 40 percent... with fifteen
percent as don't give a rat's ass... you can try moving the other guy's folks
into your camp. Or... if you've done your research and read that True-the-Vote
playbook... you can sling mud so thick as, even if it makes another five
percent of your people stay home in disgust, it makes twelve percent of your opponent's
people do likewise.
Unless, of course, there's
a Catfish in the race, sweepin' up that riverbottom! Makin’ the
living better for the people at the bottom instead of either
harassing or cosseting them on the top, long as they do right and pay their
taxes.
So, let me throw out
a few million votes. If elected, first order
of business would be to raise taxes on the one percent and the ninety-nine percent and cut handouts to the forty-seven
percent and the one percent. Tax
the income – forty five percent tops with another ten percent over the top
until that National Debt shrinks back to ten trill or down to about half the
GDP. Draft the young thugs and send them
to Ukraine, tax the gas, the cellphones and the Twitters too… five or even ten
cents a call won’t mean the end of the world, and it’ll probably rid us of most
telemarketers as understand that their message ain’t worth
a dime. Even two cents gets rid of most
of the robocallers! Get rid of all them Monday holidays,
too, chop heads off any turkey donated to the White House for Thanksgiving and pardon,
instead, those relatives in Michigan and Alabama who beat the crap out of TV reporters
as came after them at the scene... one a shooting, other a fire... asking: "But,
how do you feel?" while the gurneys were haulin'
away the remains of their loved ones.
Not that I'd let myself
get boxed in, as Wilhelm Reich did... blaming all his troubles on men from
outer space... but I do sometimes hold to the conviction that this world's under
the influence of evil spirits as populate the scary books and movies. "There is some kind of force out there that needs our
energy," says the good Dr. Angela Browne-Miller, up at that White House
Conference on Families, "that feeds on it like a shark eats little fish...
keeping people unintelligent as a form of social control.
"Keeping the human
species unaware of the fact that it is not in control of its intelligence is a
way of controlling us as a life form."
If there are
bad aliens out there, well, I can state without equivocating, that the CNC will
stand agin' 'em! Even if
ol' Jenks out in Owsley County wants to hire 'em to pick his sour persimmons.
And even if it's
just plain old human cussedness, as'll vote for the dead-cat
reforms of our institutional parties, the CNC can do its best to amuse you in
the process. Least we can do is tie pretty bows an' yellow ribbons onto all them dead pussies as go whizzing through God's own hallowed,
depleted ozone!
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