Ned Pepper's Outrages
Monday, February 28, 2011
More Great Meg Whitman News!
Ned's friends of long standing are aware of his unabashed pride in the successes of the self-made men and women of the Sneering Plutocracy. Today comes word that Ned can report with vicarious pleasure, nay, glee, that one of his favorite Sneering Plutocrats, former eBay "CEO" Meg Whitman, has soared to new heights. His friends will recall that Whitman suffered a slight setback when she spent $180 million of "her" money (read, money skewered from the flesh of eBay customers, employees and stockholders, not to mention taxpayers given that she pays taxes at a lower rate than Warren Buffett's secretary) in a failed attempt to buy--er, be elected to the governorship of Gullyvornia, losing by 13 points to septegenarian Jerry Brown. Recently Ned had taken heart that Whitman has partially recovered from this disappointment by being named to the Board of HP, thus allowing her to rake in hundreds of thousands a year by meeting four times a year, and rubber stamping the dictates of the CEO. Today, Ned is informed that she has been named to the Board of Zipcar as well! Thus, by doing nothing, she has been awarded another million or so a year, while millions grub for worms under rocks and hundreds of thousands live on park benches and under bridges. Is this a great country or what?
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Health Care Crisis
Ned was the beneficiary of an overheard conversation in his steam room today. (Ned's friends already know that Ned belongs to a health club--er, gym.)
'Hiya buddy!'
'Hey.'
'How's that deal coming along? Did you work something out with those guys?'
'Won't know until mid-March.'
'Oh.'
'Is (unintelligible) going to law school?'
'Dunno. But if she asked me, I'd tell her to go into nursing.'
'Nursing? Why?'
'My wife's a nurse, and she gets paid for staying at home, when she's on call. Gets a full shift. If she has to go in, even for ten minutes, she gets four hours at time and a half.'
'Geez. Doesn't that add a lot to the bill?'
'Oh, nah. The hospital just adds it to their operating budget.'
But--doesn't somebody have to pay for it?'
'Oh, I guess the insurance companies pay. No individual could afford to pay for it unless they have insurance.'
'Oh.'
This conversation brought to you as a public service by Ned Pepper Enterprises, Inc.
'Hiya buddy!'
'Hey.'
'How's that deal coming along? Did you work something out with those guys?'
'Won't know until mid-March.'
'Oh.'
'Is (unintelligible) going to law school?'
'Dunno. But if she asked me, I'd tell her to go into nursing.'
'Nursing? Why?'
'My wife's a nurse, and she gets paid for staying at home, when she's on call. Gets a full shift. If she has to go in, even for ten minutes, she gets four hours at time and a half.'
'Geez. Doesn't that add a lot to the bill?'
'Oh, nah. The hospital just adds it to their operating budget.'
But--doesn't somebody have to pay for it?'
'Oh, I guess the insurance companies pay. No individual could afford to pay for it unless they have insurance.'
'Oh.'
This conversation brought to you as a public service by Ned Pepper Enterprises, Inc.
George W Bush and the Death of Irony
Comes word in today's local rag that ex-jefe G W "Mission Accomplished" Bush has refused to attend a "Global Leadership Summit" organized for Denver, where he was presumably going to try to look presentable and not mention the debacle that was his regime. But the reasons given for Bush's refusal to attend the event are themselves priceless and further attest to the role of this man in the Death of Irony. His reasons are: he doesn't want to share a forum with the WikiLeaks guy, a man who has, according to a Bush stooge, "willfully and repeatedly caused great harm to the interests of the United States."
Now, Ned would like to ask his friends to try to think of an American of recent memory who has done more to "willfully and repeatedly cause great harm to the United States" than George Bush himself. He was the architect of the Iraq invasion, costing upwards of a trillion dollars and a hundred thousand lives, many of them innocent and many of them continuing to this day. The invasion is universally acknowledged to have been based on fraudulent evidence much of it concocted and manipulated by Bush and his henchmen, Cheney, Rumsfeld and Condolleezzzza Rice. Not content with that, which should have been enough to guarantee any man a unique place in history, he went on to preside over the worst economic debacle since the Great Depression, itself costing more than a trillion dollars and leading to millions of lives ruined through unemployment and disgrace, but, not of course to any prosecutions of any of Bush's Sneering Plutocrat friends. As if that weren't enough, he turned a trillion dollar federal surplus into a colossal deficit through ruinous tax cuts for billionaires and millionaires. And finally, he tried his damndest to bankrupt Medicare by pushing through a "Prescription Drug Benefit" which was not paid for, and which enriched his lickspittles and rentboys of the "health care" industry.
So, Ned concludes we can simply declare irony to be dead and buried, since who needs it as we have the continuing saga of George W Bush, nearly universally acknowledged to be the worst president in history, to console ourselves with.
Now, Ned would like to ask his friends to try to think of an American of recent memory who has done more to "willfully and repeatedly cause great harm to the United States" than George Bush himself. He was the architect of the Iraq invasion, costing upwards of a trillion dollars and a hundred thousand lives, many of them innocent and many of them continuing to this day. The invasion is universally acknowledged to have been based on fraudulent evidence much of it concocted and manipulated by Bush and his henchmen, Cheney, Rumsfeld and Condolleezzzza Rice. Not content with that, which should have been enough to guarantee any man a unique place in history, he went on to preside over the worst economic debacle since the Great Depression, itself costing more than a trillion dollars and leading to millions of lives ruined through unemployment and disgrace, but, not of course to any prosecutions of any of Bush's Sneering Plutocrat friends. As if that weren't enough, he turned a trillion dollar federal surplus into a colossal deficit through ruinous tax cuts for billionaires and millionaires. And finally, he tried his damndest to bankrupt Medicare by pushing through a "Prescription Drug Benefit" which was not paid for, and which enriched his lickspittles and rentboys of the "health care" industry.
So, Ned concludes we can simply declare irony to be dead and buried, since who needs it as we have the continuing saga of George W Bush, nearly universally acknowledged to be the worst president in history, to console ourselves with.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Paul Broun (R, GA) Holds a Town Meeting
Rep. Paul Broun, a run-of-the-mill anti-intellectual, know-nothing Republican from Georgia, held a "town meeting" recently, and at it was reportedly asked by one of his "constituents," "Who is going to shoot Obama?" Witnesses may disagree, but several said Broun laughed nervously, then replied, "The thing is, I know there's a lot of frustration with this president. We're going to have an election next year. Hopefully, we'll elect somebody that's going to be a conservative, limited-government president that will take a smaller, who will sign a bill to repeal and replace Obamacare."
Of course, this is just the sort of reply a sanctimonious hypocrite and cringing piece of excrement might be expected to say.
Now, here is what Ned would have said:
[Long pause] "I have to choose my words carefully here." [Long pause} "I think, sir, if you were trying to make a joke, that you are an idiot and I want you out of this meeting, and I do not want your support or any people like you. If you really meant it, after the brutal massacre at Tucson where a 9 year old child was murdered, then although I am no psychiatrist, I think you are a sociopathic cretin, or even perhaps a psychopathic cretin. Where are my security people? I want this man removed from this hall, and get a very good look at him, because the police and FBI will want to be informed of this exchange. I haven't spent my whole life in this country or years running for public office to have to deal with people like you, who tarnish the reputation of our party and our country. And if anyone else agrees with this man, they can get the hell out of here as well."
Of course, this is just the sort of reply a sanctimonious hypocrite and cringing piece of excrement might be expected to say.
Now, here is what Ned would have said:
[Long pause] "I have to choose my words carefully here." [Long pause} "I think, sir, if you were trying to make a joke, that you are an idiot and I want you out of this meeting, and I do not want your support or any people like you. If you really meant it, after the brutal massacre at Tucson where a 9 year old child was murdered, then although I am no psychiatrist, I think you are a sociopathic cretin, or even perhaps a psychopathic cretin. Where are my security people? I want this man removed from this hall, and get a very good look at him, because the police and FBI will want to be informed of this exchange. I haven't spent my whole life in this country or years running for public office to have to deal with people like you, who tarnish the reputation of our party and our country. And if anyone else agrees with this man, they can get the hell out of here as well."
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
News Flash from the FDA
In an unexpected and startling development, the US Food and Drug Administration, after years of study, announced today that women who take anti-psychotic drugs during pregnancy risk harming the fetus. This announcement joins a distinguished list of health and even life enhancing announcements, such as warning that repeatedly dropping one's infant on its head may induce brain damage, pouring boiling water on a child's extremeties may be life-threatening, and a pregnant woman's repeated use of heroin may induce addiction in a fetus.
Be assured that Ned will continue to seek out and report all such unexpected and critically-important information as it becomes available.
Be assured that Ned will continue to seek out and report all such unexpected and critically-important information as it becomes available.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Bachmann's anti-Obama rant
Ned can only shake his head sadly at the intemporate rant aimed at Barry Obama's foreign policy (such as it is) today, by that new Harpy of the Tea Baggers, Michele Bachmann. (h/t politicalwire from Spartanburg, SC Herald Journal)
"Our Peace Prize-winning president is very busy bowing these days to kings. He is bending down to dictators, and he is brown-nosing the elites that are in Europe, and he's babying the jihadists who are following Sharia-compliant terrorism. He is callow and confused and inconsistent in his response to the Egyptian crisis, and to the uprisings in Iran, and to the terrorist threats. And he's accomplishing something nobody thought even possible: He's making Jimmy Carter look like a Rambo tough-guy."
Quite apart from the fact that no right winger ever saw a Sneering Plutocrat whose a** they weren't desperate to kiss, Ned is saddest that the country's media would encourage such a buffoon, and, worse, give her a platform to foam at the mouth on a regular basis. As for Bachmann, Ned can only surmise, and it is only a hypothesis, that she was repeatedly dropped on her head as an infant. He can offer no rational hypothesis to explain the widespread mental illness that must characterize the voters that have repeatedly elected her to Congress. Perhaps they have been driven mad by black flies, or had their brains freeze-dried by the subzero winters. Or perhaps their nervous systems have been short-circuited by the masses of mercury and other heavy metals they ingest from the pike they consume by the truckload.
"Our Peace Prize-winning president is very busy bowing these days to kings. He is bending down to dictators, and he is brown-nosing the elites that are in Europe, and he's babying the jihadists who are following Sharia-compliant terrorism. He is callow and confused and inconsistent in his response to the Egyptian crisis, and to the uprisings in Iran, and to the terrorist threats. And he's accomplishing something nobody thought even possible: He's making Jimmy Carter look like a Rambo tough-guy."
Quite apart from the fact that no right winger ever saw a Sneering Plutocrat whose a** they weren't desperate to kiss, Ned is saddest that the country's media would encourage such a buffoon, and, worse, give her a platform to foam at the mouth on a regular basis. As for Bachmann, Ned can only surmise, and it is only a hypothesis, that she was repeatedly dropped on her head as an infant. He can offer no rational hypothesis to explain the widespread mental illness that must characterize the voters that have repeatedly elected her to Congress. Perhaps they have been driven mad by black flies, or had their brains freeze-dried by the subzero winters. Or perhaps their nervous systems have been short-circuited by the masses of mercury and other heavy metals they ingest from the pike they consume by the truckload.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
An update on our younger folks
Ned here reposts an edited submission decrying the mediocrity of high-schoolers and trying to fathom the reasons, and adds new data. Enjoy!
Faithful readers recall Ned's penchant for the Henrys. Today, Ned would like to take as his text (since it is a Sunday) a quote from henry IV, Part One, perhaps the best of all. For plot, comedy, character, melodramatic effect, there's none to compare.
Henry is berating Prince Hal for being too much in the common eye, and likens Hal to Richard II. He says,
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But, like a comet, I was wond'red at;
That men would tell their children, 'This is he!'
What we have in this country is a surfeit of narcissistic exceptionalism: everybody is a star. Everyone deserves their few minutes of fame? Why? Because we, being Americans, are "special." Everyone is to be wondered at. A corollary: everyone who "tries" should get a prize. But by setting the bar so low, we prostitute renown, and corrupt accomplishment.
New statistics indicate that while the graduation rate of New York City students is 64 percent, only 23 percent of these students are college-ready.
But an earlier NYT article reported on the proliferation of valedictorians at the nation's "elite" (read, well-budgeted) mainly suburban (meaning mainly white) high schools. Some high schools graduate as many as 30 "valedictorians." Now, a valedictorian is supposed to the the ONE person with the highest grades in her or his graduating class. But due to the dumbing-down of the nation's educational experience, we now have too many "top students" to be able to choose the single best. Thus, everyone's a star.
This at a time when more than 30% of high schoolers never graduate at all.
How did we get here? Grade inflation has been a factor of American educational life for at least three decades. Research has shown that the average college GPA has increased by about 0.1 point per decade since the late '60s. Ned is no sociologist so wouldn't venture to suggest a reason. But it does direly suggest why mental illness and antisocial behavior are on the rise. Children who are told their entire lives that they are "special" and "unique" and who are given prizes for showing up and "trying" will have a hard time acclimatizing themselves to a job market where everyone isn't number one.
One of the comments made by a "valedictorian" perhaps encapsulates the problem. The student says, "..It is a testament to how hard we've tried."
In Ned's former life as a hated college professor, he had many students tell him, after receiving a grievous grade on a paper of test, how "hard they tried" or how many "hours they studied" only to be "given" a poor grade.
Ned admonishes todays students, administrators and educators to emulate Yoda: "Do or do not. There is no try."
Faithful readers recall Ned's penchant for the Henrys. Today, Ned would like to take as his text (since it is a Sunday) a quote from henry IV, Part One, perhaps the best of all. For plot, comedy, character, melodramatic effect, there's none to compare.
Henry is berating Prince Hal for being too much in the common eye, and likens Hal to Richard II. He says,
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men,
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But, like a comet, I was wond'red at;
That men would tell their children, 'This is he!'
What we have in this country is a surfeit of narcissistic exceptionalism: everybody is a star. Everyone deserves their few minutes of fame? Why? Because we, being Americans, are "special." Everyone is to be wondered at. A corollary: everyone who "tries" should get a prize. But by setting the bar so low, we prostitute renown, and corrupt accomplishment.
New statistics indicate that while the graduation rate of New York City students is 64 percent, only 23 percent of these students are college-ready.
But an earlier NYT article reported on the proliferation of valedictorians at the nation's "elite" (read, well-budgeted) mainly suburban (meaning mainly white) high schools. Some high schools graduate as many as 30 "valedictorians." Now, a valedictorian is supposed to the the ONE person with the highest grades in her or his graduating class. But due to the dumbing-down of the nation's educational experience, we now have too many "top students" to be able to choose the single best. Thus, everyone's a star.
This at a time when more than 30% of high schoolers never graduate at all.
How did we get here? Grade inflation has been a factor of American educational life for at least three decades. Research has shown that the average college GPA has increased by about 0.1 point per decade since the late '60s. Ned is no sociologist so wouldn't venture to suggest a reason. But it does direly suggest why mental illness and antisocial behavior are on the rise. Children who are told their entire lives that they are "special" and "unique" and who are given prizes for showing up and "trying" will have a hard time acclimatizing themselves to a job market where everyone isn't number one.
One of the comments made by a "valedictorian" perhaps encapsulates the problem. The student says, "..It is a testament to how hard we've tried."
In Ned's former life as a hated college professor, he had many students tell him, after receiving a grievous grade on a paper of test, how "hard they tried" or how many "hours they studied" only to be "given" a poor grade.
Ned admonishes todays students, administrators and educators to emulate Yoda: "Do or do not. There is no try."
Friday, February 18, 2011
Newest Contempt Citation
It is hard to beat this letter to the NYT, published Feb. 11th from someone in naturally, Berkeley CA. Here it is:
"After ... Mubarak’s speech..., I went to bed with every nerve tensed over what the Egyptian people might face the next day. I knew they would go on, taking the next step and the next, perhaps even marching to the presidential palace. I awoke here in California to the news that he had resigned, and I wish the Egyptian people could feel the lines of joy stretching from here over to there. Today we are all dancing."
Ned congratulates
Nancy F. Wilson for writing and having published such an unvarnished piece of pure melodramatic twaddle.
"After ... Mubarak’s speech..., I went to bed with every nerve tensed over what the Egyptian people might face the next day. I knew they would go on, taking the next step and the next, perhaps even marching to the presidential palace. I awoke here in California to the news that he had resigned, and I wish the Egyptian people could feel the lines of joy stretching from here over to there. Today we are all dancing."
Ned congratulates
Nancy F. Wilson for writing and having published such an unvarnished piece of pure melodramatic twaddle.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The Great Saga of the Dwarf Lords and the Magic Negro
Ned understands that he has many young followers who want to hear a good fable. Ned will therefore begin a story of The Land Of The Dwarfs.
Once upon a time there was a land of the dwarfs. These were mainly chuckle-headed fellows who scorned learning and thought, but loved riches and power above all else. They kept their dwarf women under a Spell, given to them by White Dwarf Lords of Old. One day, the dwarfs were drinking Lite Ale and talking NASCAR in Council, when a messenger arrived, with a fearful look upon his visage. 'Lo!' He cried. 'Word has come of a Great Lord in a land over the mountain, A Magic Negro, who lives in a Great White House on the banks of a mighty river. He has great riches and power, and wields his great power through his Magic Wand! We fear that if our dwarf princesses hear of this our spell will be broken and they will all flee to The Magic Negro's Magic Wand! What shall we do?'
At this news the Dwarfs were sore afraid. But they loved riches above all else, and power over their princesses. So they decided that they must go to the land of the Magic Negro, seize his Magic Wand and take his riches for themselves. This made them very happy until they thought how best to accomplish this quest, and again, they were sore afraid, for they were cowards at heart. But six of their number, quaking with fear, drank more Lite Ale to bolster their courage, and set out for the Land of the Magic Negro. They were Little Newt, Timmy Pee, Huckie of the Billy Hills, Thune who called himself The Great (tho he was very small in mind), Romni the Great Hunter (tho he had in fact only hunted little since he was a lad in the Land of the Great Cult from whence he came), and Rudy Fuggedaboudit the Bald, from a great teeming city.
****
As they walked through the Great Wood they came upon another dwarf and hailed him, thus: 'Lo! We are on a great quest! To wrest a Great Wand from the Evil Magic Negro who lives in the White House over the mountain Lest he free our princesses from our spell!'
'Well, fellers', said the new dwarf, who was none other than Haley of the Red Neck, 'Ah know all about these Magic nigras, but we didn't call them that where ah hail from!' And he sniggered. 'Ah think ah can handle him!'
And so the Seven Dwarfs set off for the Kingdom of the Magic Negro, to seize his Great Wand and his treasure for themselves.As the dwarf lords trudged though a dark wood on their way to the land of the Magic Negro, they happened to pass a dank hut, overgrown with the rankest weeds. As they passed, wet and shuddering, a giant troll emerged from the hut. 'STOP!' He cried. "I am the keeper of the Holy Flame. Only the purest in heart can pass! Are you pure? Do you adhere to the one True Faith? Speak!' He commanded. 'Yea!' The dwarfs cried. Romni squeaked, 'I am the true believer! I even accept Brigham Young as my savior in addition to Jesus!' 'Don't listen to him!' Cried Huck of the Billy Hills. 'Jesus is my own personal savior!' 'Wait' cried Thune the Great, 'I speak to Jesus ever day!'. Little Timmy cried, 'I base all my daily actions on the dictates of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!' To this, The Newt and all the others cried 'Amen Lord, Amen!'
But the Giant Troll, Keeper of the Holy Flame cried 'STOP!' I don't give a rats ass about any Jesus. Are you FISCALLY SOUND? Do you believe in the one True Way? Do you adhere to 'less government', 'fewer regulations','more freedom, and no taxes on your betters in the Sneering Plutocracy? Speak!'
'Yea!!' All the dwarfs cried, with apparent relief. But the Newt, also known as Newt the Coiffed, cried 'What about family values? I have had more wives than anyone. I am the Prince of Family Values!' And all the other dwarfs groaned.
'Pass!' Cried the Troll. 'You are all worthy to challenge the Magic Negro and seize his Magic Wand!'
And, with a giant sigh of relief, they all opened another Lite Ale and trudged along the path that led to the Great White House.
Tired in body and spirit, the dwarf lords plodded all day on the road through the mountains on their way to the City of The Magic Negro. As evening fell, they chanced to spy an inn, with a welcoming light in the window, and smoke coming up the chimney. They entered and found rooms for the night. After feasting on ground body part and more Lite Ale, they fell into conversation with their host, the innkeeper and his beautiful daughter.
'We have indeed heard tales of the Evil Negro and his Great Wand', said their host, 'but we have ways to protect our daughters from his spell. The Lady of the Moose lives in a glen at the foot of a mighty mountain not three leagues from here, and she can make an amulet that counters the Magic Negro's power.' And at this, the dwarfs looked at the innkeeper's daughter approvingly, although it must be said that the look given her by Rudy Fuggedaboutit and Haley of the Red Neck was more akin to a leer.
'You should ascend to the Moose Queen's home at break of day', the innkeeper advised them. And so they went to bed, much encouraged, and talked of NASCAR and prayed to Jesus (or so it seemed) before retiring. At break of day, they took a quick repast and set off. After an hour or so, they saw a great stone castle, with moose antlers guarding the great door. 'This must be the place', said Romni with wonder. In the yard of the castle was a Lady, wondrous fair, who was butchering a small moose. Although her hands dripped with carrion, she smiled lustily and greeted them thus: 'You are the Dwarf Lords on a quest. Your fame you see has preceded you. How may I serve you?' And with this, she cut off a moose pizzle and threw it into a growing ple. They shuddered, but Little Timmy cried, 'We seek a charm that will protect us against the Magic Negro!'
'You have come to the right place,' she smiled.
The dwarfs marveled at the beauty of the Moose Queen, but Timmy Pee was troubled. 'I have lusted after her in my heart,' he cried to Rudy Fuggedaboutit ,'and my soul stands sore charged!' 'Fuggedaboutit!' cried Rudy of the Teeming City. 'Take one of my viagras and we'll stop off in the village on our way out.' Timmy Pee was not solaced, however.
All the while, Newt the Coiffed was admiring the Moose Queen's domain. It consisted of a large castle and a vast enclosure inside which many myriad of moose roamed, of all sizes. Scattered throughout were a number of what appeared to Newt to be watchtowers, The entire enclosure, vast as it was, was surrounded by a high fence. 'Is this a moose sanctuary?' He asked respectfully. 'In a sense', the Moose Queen replied, smiling. 'We keep them inside, and from time to time a sportsman comes, climbs a tower and shoots one. We cut off the head for mounting and give the meat to the dogs, the villagers or the Wild Men of the Forest. The sportsmen go home with a trophy.' 'So you are a small businesswoman! An entrepreneur!' cried Newt the Coiffed. 'Friends! Here is truly one of us! Is there a tax cut we can give you? What about an agricultural subsidy? A waiver of the Death Tax?' And here the dwarfs waxed glad indeed. 'No,' the Queen replied,' I pay no taxes as it is. In fact, I have an easement on the property because of some favors I did a local "businessman" recently, and the local burghers pay me!' And here the eyes of the dwarfs were glad, indeed.
'But, Moose Queen,' said Huck of the Billy Hills, 'we need a charm to ward off the powers of the Magic Negro, and the innkeeper said you could help us. If you can, we will name you Our Lady of the Quest!' 'Here', said Her Majesty, 'Here are moose pizzles for you all. Keep them around your neck and you will be immune to the power of the Dark Lord of the Great River.' The gratefulness of the dwarfs was tempered just a bit by the many flies that buzzed about each moose pizzle as they affixed them to a chain about their necks. But off they trudged, singing, accompanied by their large clouds of flies.
As they left the domain of the Moose Queen, Newt observed to Rudy, 'I have indeed lusted in my heart too for the body of the Moose Queen.' 'Yeh' said Rudy, 'Youse can join me and Timmy in the village. I'm gonna make the innkeeper's daughter an offer she can't refuse!'
****
The next morning, the dwarf lords left the village in some disarray. The innkeeper bade them a fond farewell, his pockets bulging with lucre. His daughter, according to the chronicles, was enrolled in a boarding school soon after. The village was on the edge of the Land of Men, so it was not long before the dwarfs reached the border. There, they enquired of the guards how best to reach the city of the Magic Negro, but the guards informed them tersely that security concerns forbad them giving out that information, and eyed them suspiciously. 'What business could seven dwarfs wearing moose pizzles have with our Fearless Leader? Speak quickly!' one cried. 'We wish to but study his governance, as in our country we have many problems that his counsel might address', said Romni, the moat presentable of the rather bedraggled bunch.
'We mean no disrespect.' 'Well, we are not allowed to permit you to enter the Magic Negro's City unescorted, so you must find a guide.' Romni looked about him, waving away the growing cloud of flies that were drawn to the now stinking moose pizzle amulet around his neck. He noticed a shack nearby that had 'Tourist Information' printed by hand on the door. He went in, and motioned to his friends to follow him. Inside, in a low, mean room, he found several vile looking men crouched about a cooking fire. One looked up, and Haley of the Red Neck said with bravado, 'Ah'll handle these fellers. Y'all know how to git to the city of the Magic--ah--Nigra?' The man who looked up shouted to another, 'Hey Cracker you wanna he'p there dwarfs?' The man called Cracker looked up from the pot in which he was apparently trying to boil a large rat, and said, leering horribly at the sleek dwarf, 'You ain't from around here, are ya?' This Cracker was a small man with matted hair, and his grin exposed several blackened teeth. Haley of the Red Neck began to wonder whether he had acted prudently as he looked about him with growing alarm.
******
Just as Cracker Bodine (such was his name) was unhitching his trousers, which were richly stained with material of a deep brown color, and began to circle around Haley, prompting his associates to began to smile, anticipating some unexpected sport, a great knocking was heard at the door. 'Open up! City tax inspector!' and in strode a very fat man chewing on a very wet cigar, wearing a badge and a name tag that said simply "BUTTS." Holding an official-looking form containing a small picture, Butts scanned the room briefly then asked 'Are yew Cracker Sparky Bovine?' 'Bodine,' said Cracker, sullenly. 'What the hell do yew want?' 'I have here a warrant to seize this proppity' and he looked about himself with no great reverence for the property he was about to seize,'for nonpayment of city taxes. 'Cracker turned to his associate angrily and said 'Goddamit Booger, I gave you the money to pay them taxes last week! 'Wey-yull,'the individual so-named replied sheepishly, 'I was a-meanin' to, but my girl friend Curly Fay had to go over to Eufala and visit a doctor right sudden.' 'Shit, Booger that girl is only eleven!' Naw! Well, twelve next month!'
Butts waved them to be silent with evident disgust, and began,'This proppitymustbesealedandunoccupieduntilpaymentofasumtobedeterminedbyamagistrate...'. He was about to go on until his attention was drawn to the dwarf lords and their fly-encrusted moose pizzles.'Who in blazes are yew and what the hell are yew wearing?' Before the dwarfs could answer Butts noticed the boiling rat and peremptorily declared 'no cooking may be done in the presence of insect infestations. Yew are also in violation of city health laws. Now you and yer friends git outside and wait by my van!' he ordered the dwarfs, who were only too happy to comply, and out they scurried.
When Butts had secured the premises, he turned his attention to the dwarf lords, thusly. 'I have never seen such a crew in my entire professional career. What the hell are you fellows up to?' And the dwarfs briefly tried to explain their quest, omitting any mention of seizing the Magic Negro's treasure and Great Wand.
'Why hell, them border guards were just havin' a little fun with yew. Did you offer them any money in the way of an inducement to allow you in? If not, they wuz expectin' it, a sort-of 'irregular gratuity,' if you know what I mean. And if you didn't, why you can give it to me.' and the dwarf lords collected their remaining money and gave Deputy Butts a large part of it. 'Now, take them damn pizzles off yer neck. If you have to keep them, stuff 'em in your pockets, Otherwiseyewareguiltyofcreatingapublicnuisanceundersection332ofthecitycode', he droned.
They imediately complied, with evident relief, and enquired about securing a guide to the City of the Magic Negro. 'Hell, you don't need no guide. They was just havin' a bit of fun. Just head on down this highway and follow the signs. If you have any trouble, just give 'em this note and say it is from Deputy Wurzel Buddy Butts.'
And so, relishing their narrow escape the dwarf lords began the final phase of their Quest, to meet and vanquish The Magic Negro.
With their available funds, and using Little Newt's credit card, the dwarfs found it easy to book a flight to the City of the Magic Negro. The only snag was that they had to check their moose pizzles, wrapped in plastic bags. Having secured accommodation, the dwarfs set about to find their way to the Great White House to confront the Magic Negro. Walking along a broad thoroughfare they fell into conversation with a denizen of the city, dressed in sweatshirt and hood, and wearing dark glasses such that they could see little of his countenance. 'One thing we like about your country' Newt cried, 'is the wide availability of firearms. We only wish every able-bodied person were required to own and carry a firearm. We believe the cities would be much safer.' Haley of the Red Neck, taking charge again, said 'Could y'all tell us how to git to the house of this here Magic Nigra?' Now their new acquaintance, due probably to listening to rap music at 110 decibels for a decade or more, coupled with the muffling effects of his hoodie, was a bit hard of hearing. He therefore unfortunately misunderstood the question, and put the worst possible interpretation on it. 'Who you callin' a n-----?' the man asked indignantly. 'Hell, I just met you ass-----. 'Stick 'em up!' He pulled out a large pistol, and proceeded to strip the dwarfs of their valuables, but declined to take their moose pizzles, which they had brought along for safety. 'And if you sorry-ass dwarfs want my advice, you don't ask nobody else questions like that!' With that, he gave Haley an admonitory tap on the head with his pistol, to serve as a memory-enhancer, which drew not an inconsiderable amount of blood, and vanished down a dark alley.
After staunching their friend's wound, they looked about them seeking succor, but were ignored by passers-by. However, it is an ill wind indeed that blows nobody any good, and they noticed they were adjacent to a large building inscribed 'GOP Headquarters.' 'Surely,' cried Timmy Pee, 'here we will find some answers to our quest!' The other dwarfs agreed, and, without further delay, they went inside.
******
The dwarfs were overjoyed to be in a place of safety at last. The first person they noticed was a young blonde woman sitting behind a polished desk with nothing on top (of the desk, not the young woman) but a computer and a phone. Her nametag read “Neveah Lord”. She was dressed in a very short skirt with a very low-cut top revealing very large breasts, above which dangled a large gold bejeweled cross hanging from a heavy golden chain. She also wore knee-high boots, and had on much makeup. Haley had said while coming in that they should probably not enquire further for The Magic Negro in view of the response he had just experienced, and that they should find out what these people called their leader. Therefore Thune the Great asked, ‘What do you call the leader who lives in The Great White House, for we are strangers just arrived.’ ‘Communist. Socialist. Baby-killer. Muslim. America-hater. Marxist. That’s what we call him.’
‘But,’ pursued Huckle of the Billy Hills, ‘Does he not have a name?’
You’re kidding me, right? It’s Osama or Obama. What-ever.’
‘Well,’ Timmy Pee asked, ‘Does he not have great power and riches, and a Great Wand by which he controls his enemies?’
Neveah looked alarmed and whispered, “Don’t say anything about that wand! You’ll get us all into trouble! And, no I don’t think he’s really rich. And as for power, he can’t even control his own party so I don’t think he’s that powerful.’
‘Well,’ Little Newt asked, ‘Can you tell us what you believe in, your GOP, that will help us defeat this Obama Whatever?’
‘The sanctity of life and the love of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!’
‘The sanctity of all life? What a noble cause!’ Said Huckle admiringly.
‘No, silly! Only unborn life. The Lord Jesus Christ says that all born of woman deserve death and hell fire and must be saved!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Thought Timmy Pee. And he shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing at his friends. Only Little Newt looked pleased with this response, and smiled smugly.
‘Well,’ pursued Romni gamely, ‘You do believe in equal opportunity I guess. For example, how did you get your job here?’
‘Oh, it was something my daddy heard about and he told me to apply. My daddy is very well-to-do. He’s a CEO of a big company and a big donor to the GOP, and he knows my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s a congressman.’
‘My!’ said Romni, ‘I had no idea your leaders were so young. Why, you can’t be much over twenty-one can you?’
‘No’, she smiled, “I’m twenty-one, and my boyfriend is 55. His ex-wife is real old.’ At this the dwarfs looked more uneasy still, except for Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose eyes lighted up. ‘Well, where do your parents live? Here?’
‘No. We have lots of houses. Right now my mom is in Vail with her ski instructor Mr Buff, and Dad’s in London at the flat with his personal assistant Miss Peters. They travel a lot.’
‘Way-yull,’ Haley asked, What else do yew believe in?’
‘Oh, family values!’ And Neveah's eyes lighted up even more, while she fingered her large golden cross. Rudy watched her rather as a cat might watch a small injured bird. ‘You must have gone to a good school to get a job like this,‘ He offered.
‘Well, yeah! I just graduated from Liberty University with a Major in Christian Studies. My boyfriend is very interested in that as well. Most of the people who work here have been born again. Praise The Lord! But here’s Marcus and Eddie the Third! They have all sorts of good stuff to tell you!’
*****
The dwarfs, all but Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose attention was fixed on Neveah’s cross, or at least on that region, looked up as the two new staffers came in. They were introduced as William Wormley III ‘just call me Billy the Third’, and a young African American who took his seat in the desk in the front window. ‘I’m Marcus Flavius Brown, but everybody just calls me MF.’ ‘Billy’s dad was ex-military and now is a contractor for the Defense Department, and MF’s dad is the Pastor for a Megachurch in the city,’ chirped Neveah.
‘We’ve heard from Neveah, but what do you think is the most important message of the GOP?’ Pursued Thune the great. ‘Oh, the sanctity of life’ agreed Billy the Third and MF, ‘and fiscal discipline. We need to live within our means. And gun freedom. Oh, yeah. And diversity. I mean, look at us. A white kid, a white girl and a black guy. Can’t get more diverse than that. But we aren’t politically correct. We think that the most important thing is treating everyone with respect, no matter who they are. Not now, Ignacio!’ This snarl was directed at an elderly Hispanic man who had come in quietly to collect the waste bin, which was overflowing, and the recycling bin, which was empty. ‘Can’t you see we’re in a meeting? Jeez!’ ‘Dispensa me,’ said the old man quietly and sidled out without looking up. ‘Sorry about that, ‘said Billy the Third, ‘But you can’t get the staff, you see. It’s a nightmare.’ ‘Yeah’, chimed in MF, ’we tried to hire some people from my dad’s church, but they all wanted too much! So we’re stuck with these people.’
‘You said something about living within your means, so I guess that means you need to cut your budget,’ offered Newt the Coiffed, “Where would you cut. Defense?’ ‘God, no!’ Said all three staffers. ‘Too many threats!’ ‘We need to spend lots more on defense, at least that’s what my dad says,’ replied Billy. ‘Well, do you think this health care stuff is important?’ asked Timmy Pee earnestly. ‘Don’t people need health care?’ ‘Sure’ said MF, ‘But we believe it should be offered through employers, not by the government. 'Yeah', agreed Billy the Third. 'My dad says if private employers offer health care, their employees will be too scared to leave, and will do what they were told. They're also a lot easier to control and they are afraid to ask for raises. Anyway, the government just screws everything up.’ ‘But’ asked Romni, who thought of himself as a policy expert, ‘doesn’t the government handle defense?’ ‘Well, yeah, but...’ and the staffers all looked at their shoes suddenly. Just then, a fat security guard came in and asked the dwarfs what they were doing there. As they didn’t have an appointment, they were ushered out rather brusquely after being searched. Much confused, they found themselves again on the street.
The dwarf lords found themselves out on the pavement and out in the cold after they were summarily thrown out of the GOP offices. The irony to all of them was that they all felt that the GOP ideals closely matched their own, or at least they could make these ideals their own if it benefitted them, especially Newt The Coiffed, who felt he could embrace any cockamamie idea as long as it put him in power, which he felt was what society needed anyway. Rudy Fuggedaboutit was enthralled by the GOP women, whom he felt would be swayed by his manly demeanor. The rest of them were saddened with the thought that they had to go back to the Kingdom of the Dwarfs, where they were indeed little fish in a little pond. They walked into a bar, and began to consider their circumstances. After a few Lite Ales and a NASCAR race or two on television, they came to a decision: they would apply for political asylum in the country of the Magic Negro, having discovered that he was neither very rich, nor very powerful, and reports of the power of a Magic Wand were, to put it mildly, grossly exaggerated. But what grounds could they use? They decided to claim that they were gay, and their own land forbad such behavior. So back they went, rather groggily, to the GOP headquarters, and this time made an appointment with a midlevel political flunkie, told him their story, and outlined the benefits they could bring to the GOP. And Ned's young readers will be delighted to discover that the tale ended happily: Newt The Coiffed became director of a group of GOP intellectuals; Thune The Great took a position advising young GOPers on sartorial and tonsorial matters; Rudy F became their spokesperson for urban affairs and terrorism; Little Timmy Pee became the Director of Interns, and Huckle of the Billy Hills became Director for States Rights and Religious Affairs. The only one who failed to accomplish his objectives was, ironically, Romni the Great Hunter. The most reasonable and qualified of the dwarfs, he was much too reasonable to find any support among the GOP hierarchy, and so had to fall back on his inheritance. Therefore he formed a think tank, appointed himself Executive Director, CEO, President and Chairman of the Board, and set about to try to get as much face time with the more compliant members of the media as he could. He found that free drinks, attractive 'escorts' staffing think tank conferences, and speaking engagements for the more sycophantic of the media got him attention, without any accompanying criticism. So he became an Elder Statesman, and mouthed platitudes to the admiration of all the faithful.
And, once the dwarfs all got their Green Cards, they took up anti-immigration as a cause and all lived happily ever after, except for Haley of the Red Neck, who was finally deported because of his accent and discovery of a large trove of mysterious white sheets in his townhouse.
Epilogue
On a cool spring day in River City, formerly known as the City of the Magic Negro, the six remaining dwarfs, now all successful GOP operatives engaged in a series of misinformaiton campaigns, gathered in a secluded space in a local wood, to consecrate and inter their Moose Pizzles, which were becoming distinct health hazards. The dwarfs were all too glad to be rid of the totems, and so they had asked a local religious celebrity, who was also coincidentally a GOP operative, to preside at the ceremony. This worthy Divine, who went by the professional name of Gethaliel Dayglow Clomp, said a prayer over the Moose Pizzles, all wrapped in white muslim, before depositing them with reverence in a shallow grave. Each dwarf then solemnly placed a shovel of earth over the pile, and said 'earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' most with a straight face, although the countenance of Rudy Fuggedaboutit was obscured. The grave site was unmarked, and the dwarfs scurried away, each to his own assigned task.
The End
Once upon a time there was a land of the dwarfs. These were mainly chuckle-headed fellows who scorned learning and thought, but loved riches and power above all else. They kept their dwarf women under a Spell, given to them by White Dwarf Lords of Old. One day, the dwarfs were drinking Lite Ale and talking NASCAR in Council, when a messenger arrived, with a fearful look upon his visage. 'Lo!' He cried. 'Word has come of a Great Lord in a land over the mountain, A Magic Negro, who lives in a Great White House on the banks of a mighty river. He has great riches and power, and wields his great power through his Magic Wand! We fear that if our dwarf princesses hear of this our spell will be broken and they will all flee to The Magic Negro's Magic Wand! What shall we do?'
At this news the Dwarfs were sore afraid. But they loved riches above all else, and power over their princesses. So they decided that they must go to the land of the Magic Negro, seize his Magic Wand and take his riches for themselves. This made them very happy until they thought how best to accomplish this quest, and again, they were sore afraid, for they were cowards at heart. But six of their number, quaking with fear, drank more Lite Ale to bolster their courage, and set out for the Land of the Magic Negro. They were Little Newt, Timmy Pee, Huckie of the Billy Hills, Thune who called himself The Great (tho he was very small in mind), Romni the Great Hunter (tho he had in fact only hunted little since he was a lad in the Land of the Great Cult from whence he came), and Rudy Fuggedaboudit the Bald, from a great teeming city.
****
As they walked through the Great Wood they came upon another dwarf and hailed him, thus: 'Lo! We are on a great quest! To wrest a Great Wand from the Evil Magic Negro who lives in the White House over the mountain Lest he free our princesses from our spell!'
'Well, fellers', said the new dwarf, who was none other than Haley of the Red Neck, 'Ah know all about these Magic nigras, but we didn't call them that where ah hail from!' And he sniggered. 'Ah think ah can handle him!'
And so the Seven Dwarfs set off for the Kingdom of the Magic Negro, to seize his Great Wand and his treasure for themselves.As the dwarf lords trudged though a dark wood on their way to the land of the Magic Negro, they happened to pass a dank hut, overgrown with the rankest weeds. As they passed, wet and shuddering, a giant troll emerged from the hut. 'STOP!' He cried. "I am the keeper of the Holy Flame. Only the purest in heart can pass! Are you pure? Do you adhere to the one True Faith? Speak!' He commanded. 'Yea!' The dwarfs cried. Romni squeaked, 'I am the true believer! I even accept Brigham Young as my savior in addition to Jesus!' 'Don't listen to him!' Cried Huck of the Billy Hills. 'Jesus is my own personal savior!' 'Wait' cried Thune the Great, 'I speak to Jesus ever day!'. Little Timmy cried, 'I base all my daily actions on the dictates of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!' To this, The Newt and all the others cried 'Amen Lord, Amen!'
But the Giant Troll, Keeper of the Holy Flame cried 'STOP!' I don't give a rats ass about any Jesus. Are you FISCALLY SOUND? Do you believe in the one True Way? Do you adhere to 'less government', 'fewer regulations','more freedom, and no taxes on your betters in the Sneering Plutocracy? Speak!'
'Yea!!' All the dwarfs cried, with apparent relief. But the Newt, also known as Newt the Coiffed, cried 'What about family values? I have had more wives than anyone. I am the Prince of Family Values!' And all the other dwarfs groaned.
'Pass!' Cried the Troll. 'You are all worthy to challenge the Magic Negro and seize his Magic Wand!'
And, with a giant sigh of relief, they all opened another Lite Ale and trudged along the path that led to the Great White House.
Tired in body and spirit, the dwarf lords plodded all day on the road through the mountains on their way to the City of The Magic Negro. As evening fell, they chanced to spy an inn, with a welcoming light in the window, and smoke coming up the chimney. They entered and found rooms for the night. After feasting on ground body part and more Lite Ale, they fell into conversation with their host, the innkeeper and his beautiful daughter.
'We have indeed heard tales of the Evil Negro and his Great Wand', said their host, 'but we have ways to protect our daughters from his spell. The Lady of the Moose lives in a glen at the foot of a mighty mountain not three leagues from here, and she can make an amulet that counters the Magic Negro's power.' And at this, the dwarfs looked at the innkeeper's daughter approvingly, although it must be said that the look given her by Rudy Fuggedaboutit and Haley of the Red Neck was more akin to a leer.
'You should ascend to the Moose Queen's home at break of day', the innkeeper advised them. And so they went to bed, much encouraged, and talked of NASCAR and prayed to Jesus (or so it seemed) before retiring. At break of day, they took a quick repast and set off. After an hour or so, they saw a great stone castle, with moose antlers guarding the great door. 'This must be the place', said Romni with wonder. In the yard of the castle was a Lady, wondrous fair, who was butchering a small moose. Although her hands dripped with carrion, she smiled lustily and greeted them thus: 'You are the Dwarf Lords on a quest. Your fame you see has preceded you. How may I serve you?' And with this, she cut off a moose pizzle and threw it into a growing ple. They shuddered, but Little Timmy cried, 'We seek a charm that will protect us against the Magic Negro!'
'You have come to the right place,' she smiled.
The dwarfs marveled at the beauty of the Moose Queen, but Timmy Pee was troubled. 'I have lusted after her in my heart,' he cried to Rudy Fuggedaboutit ,'and my soul stands sore charged!' 'Fuggedaboutit!' cried Rudy of the Teeming City. 'Take one of my viagras and we'll stop off in the village on our way out.' Timmy Pee was not solaced, however.
All the while, Newt the Coiffed was admiring the Moose Queen's domain. It consisted of a large castle and a vast enclosure inside which many myriad of moose roamed, of all sizes. Scattered throughout were a number of what appeared to Newt to be watchtowers, The entire enclosure, vast as it was, was surrounded by a high fence. 'Is this a moose sanctuary?' He asked respectfully. 'In a sense', the Moose Queen replied, smiling. 'We keep them inside, and from time to time a sportsman comes, climbs a tower and shoots one. We cut off the head for mounting and give the meat to the dogs, the villagers or the Wild Men of the Forest. The sportsmen go home with a trophy.' 'So you are a small businesswoman! An entrepreneur!' cried Newt the Coiffed. 'Friends! Here is truly one of us! Is there a tax cut we can give you? What about an agricultural subsidy? A waiver of the Death Tax?' And here the dwarfs waxed glad indeed. 'No,' the Queen replied,' I pay no taxes as it is. In fact, I have an easement on the property because of some favors I did a local "businessman" recently, and the local burghers pay me!' And here the eyes of the dwarfs were glad, indeed.
'But, Moose Queen,' said Huck of the Billy Hills, 'we need a charm to ward off the powers of the Magic Negro, and the innkeeper said you could help us. If you can, we will name you Our Lady of the Quest!' 'Here', said Her Majesty, 'Here are moose pizzles for you all. Keep them around your neck and you will be immune to the power of the Dark Lord of the Great River.' The gratefulness of the dwarfs was tempered just a bit by the many flies that buzzed about each moose pizzle as they affixed them to a chain about their necks. But off they trudged, singing, accompanied by their large clouds of flies.
As they left the domain of the Moose Queen, Newt observed to Rudy, 'I have indeed lusted in my heart too for the body of the Moose Queen.' 'Yeh' said Rudy, 'Youse can join me and Timmy in the village. I'm gonna make the innkeeper's daughter an offer she can't refuse!'
****
The next morning, the dwarf lords left the village in some disarray. The innkeeper bade them a fond farewell, his pockets bulging with lucre. His daughter, according to the chronicles, was enrolled in a boarding school soon after. The village was on the edge of the Land of Men, so it was not long before the dwarfs reached the border. There, they enquired of the guards how best to reach the city of the Magic Negro, but the guards informed them tersely that security concerns forbad them giving out that information, and eyed them suspiciously. 'What business could seven dwarfs wearing moose pizzles have with our Fearless Leader? Speak quickly!' one cried. 'We wish to but study his governance, as in our country we have many problems that his counsel might address', said Romni, the moat presentable of the rather bedraggled bunch.
'We mean no disrespect.' 'Well, we are not allowed to permit you to enter the Magic Negro's City unescorted, so you must find a guide.' Romni looked about him, waving away the growing cloud of flies that were drawn to the now stinking moose pizzle amulet around his neck. He noticed a shack nearby that had 'Tourist Information' printed by hand on the door. He went in, and motioned to his friends to follow him. Inside, in a low, mean room, he found several vile looking men crouched about a cooking fire. One looked up, and Haley of the Red Neck said with bravado, 'Ah'll handle these fellers. Y'all know how to git to the city of the Magic--ah--Nigra?' The man who looked up shouted to another, 'Hey Cracker you wanna he'p there dwarfs?' The man called Cracker looked up from the pot in which he was apparently trying to boil a large rat, and said, leering horribly at the sleek dwarf, 'You ain't from around here, are ya?' This Cracker was a small man with matted hair, and his grin exposed several blackened teeth. Haley of the Red Neck began to wonder whether he had acted prudently as he looked about him with growing alarm.
******
Just as Cracker Bodine (such was his name) was unhitching his trousers, which were richly stained with material of a deep brown color, and began to circle around Haley, prompting his associates to began to smile, anticipating some unexpected sport, a great knocking was heard at the door. 'Open up! City tax inspector!' and in strode a very fat man chewing on a very wet cigar, wearing a badge and a name tag that said simply "BUTTS." Holding an official-looking form containing a small picture, Butts scanned the room briefly then asked 'Are yew Cracker Sparky Bovine?' 'Bodine,' said Cracker, sullenly. 'What the hell do yew want?' 'I have here a warrant to seize this proppity' and he looked about himself with no great reverence for the property he was about to seize,'for nonpayment of city taxes. 'Cracker turned to his associate angrily and said 'Goddamit Booger, I gave you the money to pay them taxes last week! 'Wey-yull,'the individual so-named replied sheepishly, 'I was a-meanin' to, but my girl friend Curly Fay had to go over to Eufala and visit a doctor right sudden.' 'Shit, Booger that girl is only eleven!' Naw! Well, twelve next month!'
Butts waved them to be silent with evident disgust, and began,'This proppitymustbesealedandunoccupieduntilpaymentofasumtobedeterminedbyamagistrate...'. He was about to go on until his attention was drawn to the dwarf lords and their fly-encrusted moose pizzles.'Who in blazes are yew and what the hell are yew wearing?' Before the dwarfs could answer Butts noticed the boiling rat and peremptorily declared 'no cooking may be done in the presence of insect infestations. Yew are also in violation of city health laws. Now you and yer friends git outside and wait by my van!' he ordered the dwarfs, who were only too happy to comply, and out they scurried.
When Butts had secured the premises, he turned his attention to the dwarf lords, thusly. 'I have never seen such a crew in my entire professional career. What the hell are you fellows up to?' And the dwarfs briefly tried to explain their quest, omitting any mention of seizing the Magic Negro's treasure and Great Wand.
'Why hell, them border guards were just havin' a little fun with yew. Did you offer them any money in the way of an inducement to allow you in? If not, they wuz expectin' it, a sort-of 'irregular gratuity,' if you know what I mean. And if you didn't, why you can give it to me.' and the dwarf lords collected their remaining money and gave Deputy Butts a large part of it. 'Now, take them damn pizzles off yer neck. If you have to keep them, stuff 'em in your pockets, Otherwiseyewareguiltyofcreatingapublicnuisanceundersection332ofthecitycode', he droned.
They imediately complied, with evident relief, and enquired about securing a guide to the City of the Magic Negro. 'Hell, you don't need no guide. They was just havin' a bit of fun. Just head on down this highway and follow the signs. If you have any trouble, just give 'em this note and say it is from Deputy Wurzel Buddy Butts.'
And so, relishing their narrow escape the dwarf lords began the final phase of their Quest, to meet and vanquish The Magic Negro.
With their available funds, and using Little Newt's credit card, the dwarfs found it easy to book a flight to the City of the Magic Negro. The only snag was that they had to check their moose pizzles, wrapped in plastic bags. Having secured accommodation, the dwarfs set about to find their way to the Great White House to confront the Magic Negro. Walking along a broad thoroughfare they fell into conversation with a denizen of the city, dressed in sweatshirt and hood, and wearing dark glasses such that they could see little of his countenance. 'One thing we like about your country' Newt cried, 'is the wide availability of firearms. We only wish every able-bodied person were required to own and carry a firearm. We believe the cities would be much safer.' Haley of the Red Neck, taking charge again, said 'Could y'all tell us how to git to the house of this here Magic Nigra?' Now their new acquaintance, due probably to listening to rap music at 110 decibels for a decade or more, coupled with the muffling effects of his hoodie, was a bit hard of hearing. He therefore unfortunately misunderstood the question, and put the worst possible interpretation on it. 'Who you callin' a n-----?' the man asked indignantly. 'Hell, I just met you ass-----. 'Stick 'em up!' He pulled out a large pistol, and proceeded to strip the dwarfs of their valuables, but declined to take their moose pizzles, which they had brought along for safety. 'And if you sorry-ass dwarfs want my advice, you don't ask nobody else questions like that!' With that, he gave Haley an admonitory tap on the head with his pistol, to serve as a memory-enhancer, which drew not an inconsiderable amount of blood, and vanished down a dark alley.
After staunching their friend's wound, they looked about them seeking succor, but were ignored by passers-by. However, it is an ill wind indeed that blows nobody any good, and they noticed they were adjacent to a large building inscribed 'GOP Headquarters.' 'Surely,' cried Timmy Pee, 'here we will find some answers to our quest!' The other dwarfs agreed, and, without further delay, they went inside.
******
The dwarfs were overjoyed to be in a place of safety at last. The first person they noticed was a young blonde woman sitting behind a polished desk with nothing on top (of the desk, not the young woman) but a computer and a phone. Her nametag read “Neveah Lord”. She was dressed in a very short skirt with a very low-cut top revealing very large breasts, above which dangled a large gold bejeweled cross hanging from a heavy golden chain. She also wore knee-high boots, and had on much makeup. Haley had said while coming in that they should probably not enquire further for The Magic Negro in view of the response he had just experienced, and that they should find out what these people called their leader. Therefore Thune the Great asked, ‘What do you call the leader who lives in The Great White House, for we are strangers just arrived.’ ‘Communist. Socialist. Baby-killer. Muslim. America-hater. Marxist. That’s what we call him.’
‘But,’ pursued Huckle of the Billy Hills, ‘Does he not have a name?’
You’re kidding me, right? It’s Osama or Obama. What-ever.’
‘Well,’ Timmy Pee asked, ‘Does he not have great power and riches, and a Great Wand by which he controls his enemies?’
Neveah looked alarmed and whispered, “Don’t say anything about that wand! You’ll get us all into trouble! And, no I don’t think he’s really rich. And as for power, he can’t even control his own party so I don’t think he’s that powerful.’
‘Well,’ Little Newt asked, ‘Can you tell us what you believe in, your GOP, that will help us defeat this Obama Whatever?’
‘The sanctity of life and the love of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!’
‘The sanctity of all life? What a noble cause!’ Said Huckle admiringly.
‘No, silly! Only unborn life. The Lord Jesus Christ says that all born of woman deserve death and hell fire and must be saved!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Thought Timmy Pee. And he shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing at his friends. Only Little Newt looked pleased with this response, and smiled smugly.
‘Well,’ pursued Romni gamely, ‘You do believe in equal opportunity I guess. For example, how did you get your job here?’
‘Oh, it was something my daddy heard about and he told me to apply. My daddy is very well-to-do. He’s a CEO of a big company and a big donor to the GOP, and he knows my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s a congressman.’
‘My!’ said Romni, ‘I had no idea your leaders were so young. Why, you can’t be much over twenty-one can you?’
‘No’, she smiled, “I’m twenty-one, and my boyfriend is 55. His ex-wife is real old.’ At this the dwarfs looked more uneasy still, except for Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose eyes lighted up. ‘Well, where do your parents live? Here?’
‘No. We have lots of houses. Right now my mom is in Vail with her ski instructor Mr Buff, and Dad’s in London at the flat with his personal assistant Miss Peters. They travel a lot.’
‘Way-yull,’ Haley asked, What else do yew believe in?’
‘Oh, family values!’ And Neveah's eyes lighted up even more, while she fingered her large golden cross. Rudy watched her rather as a cat might watch a small injured bird. ‘You must have gone to a good school to get a job like this,‘ He offered.
‘Well, yeah! I just graduated from Liberty University with a Major in Christian Studies. My boyfriend is very interested in that as well. Most of the people who work here have been born again. Praise The Lord! But here’s Marcus and Eddie the Third! They have all sorts of good stuff to tell you!’
*****
The dwarfs, all but Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose attention was fixed on Neveah’s cross, or at least on that region, looked up as the two new staffers came in. They were introduced as William Wormley III ‘just call me Billy the Third’, and a young African American who took his seat in the desk in the front window. ‘I’m Marcus Flavius Brown, but everybody just calls me MF.’ ‘Billy’s dad was ex-military and now is a contractor for the Defense Department, and MF’s dad is the Pastor for a Megachurch in the city,’ chirped Neveah.
‘We’ve heard from Neveah, but what do you think is the most important message of the GOP?’ Pursued Thune the great. ‘Oh, the sanctity of life’ agreed Billy the Third and MF, ‘and fiscal discipline. We need to live within our means. And gun freedom. Oh, yeah. And diversity. I mean, look at us. A white kid, a white girl and a black guy. Can’t get more diverse than that. But we aren’t politically correct. We think that the most important thing is treating everyone with respect, no matter who they are. Not now, Ignacio!’ This snarl was directed at an elderly Hispanic man who had come in quietly to collect the waste bin, which was overflowing, and the recycling bin, which was empty. ‘Can’t you see we’re in a meeting? Jeez!’ ‘Dispensa me,’ said the old man quietly and sidled out without looking up. ‘Sorry about that, ‘said Billy the Third, ‘But you can’t get the staff, you see. It’s a nightmare.’ ‘Yeah’, chimed in MF, ’we tried to hire some people from my dad’s church, but they all wanted too much! So we’re stuck with these people.’
‘You said something about living within your means, so I guess that means you need to cut your budget,’ offered Newt the Coiffed, “Where would you cut. Defense?’ ‘God, no!’ Said all three staffers. ‘Too many threats!’ ‘We need to spend lots more on defense, at least that’s what my dad says,’ replied Billy. ‘Well, do you think this health care stuff is important?’ asked Timmy Pee earnestly. ‘Don’t people need health care?’ ‘Sure’ said MF, ‘But we believe it should be offered through employers, not by the government. 'Yeah', agreed Billy the Third. 'My dad says if private employers offer health care, their employees will be too scared to leave, and will do what they were told. They're also a lot easier to control and they are afraid to ask for raises. Anyway, the government just screws everything up.’ ‘But’ asked Romni, who thought of himself as a policy expert, ‘doesn’t the government handle defense?’ ‘Well, yeah, but...’ and the staffers all looked at their shoes suddenly. Just then, a fat security guard came in and asked the dwarfs what they were doing there. As they didn’t have an appointment, they were ushered out rather brusquely after being searched. Much confused, they found themselves again on the street.
The dwarf lords found themselves out on the pavement and out in the cold after they were summarily thrown out of the GOP offices. The irony to all of them was that they all felt that the GOP ideals closely matched their own, or at least they could make these ideals their own if it benefitted them, especially Newt The Coiffed, who felt he could embrace any cockamamie idea as long as it put him in power, which he felt was what society needed anyway. Rudy Fuggedaboutit was enthralled by the GOP women, whom he felt would be swayed by his manly demeanor. The rest of them were saddened with the thought that they had to go back to the Kingdom of the Dwarfs, where they were indeed little fish in a little pond. They walked into a bar, and began to consider their circumstances. After a few Lite Ales and a NASCAR race or two on television, they came to a decision: they would apply for political asylum in the country of the Magic Negro, having discovered that he was neither very rich, nor very powerful, and reports of the power of a Magic Wand were, to put it mildly, grossly exaggerated. But what grounds could they use? They decided to claim that they were gay, and their own land forbad such behavior. So back they went, rather groggily, to the GOP headquarters, and this time made an appointment with a midlevel political flunkie, told him their story, and outlined the benefits they could bring to the GOP. And Ned's young readers will be delighted to discover that the tale ended happily: Newt The Coiffed became director of a group of GOP intellectuals; Thune The Great took a position advising young GOPers on sartorial and tonsorial matters; Rudy F became their spokesperson for urban affairs and terrorism; Little Timmy Pee became the Director of Interns, and Huckle of the Billy Hills became Director for States Rights and Religious Affairs. The only one who failed to accomplish his objectives was, ironically, Romni the Great Hunter. The most reasonable and qualified of the dwarfs, he was much too reasonable to find any support among the GOP hierarchy, and so had to fall back on his inheritance. Therefore he formed a think tank, appointed himself Executive Director, CEO, President and Chairman of the Board, and set about to try to get as much face time with the more compliant members of the media as he could. He found that free drinks, attractive 'escorts' staffing think tank conferences, and speaking engagements for the more sycophantic of the media got him attention, without any accompanying criticism. So he became an Elder Statesman, and mouthed platitudes to the admiration of all the faithful.
And, once the dwarfs all got their Green Cards, they took up anti-immigration as a cause and all lived happily ever after, except for Haley of the Red Neck, who was finally deported because of his accent and discovery of a large trove of mysterious white sheets in his townhouse.
Epilogue
On a cool spring day in River City, formerly known as the City of the Magic Negro, the six remaining dwarfs, now all successful GOP operatives engaged in a series of misinformaiton campaigns, gathered in a secluded space in a local wood, to consecrate and inter their Moose Pizzles, which were becoming distinct health hazards. The dwarfs were all too glad to be rid of the totems, and so they had asked a local religious celebrity, who was also coincidentally a GOP operative, to preside at the ceremony. This worthy Divine, who went by the professional name of Gethaliel Dayglow Clomp, said a prayer over the Moose Pizzles, all wrapped in white muslim, before depositing them with reverence in a shallow grave. Each dwarf then solemnly placed a shovel of earth over the pile, and said 'earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' most with a straight face, although the countenance of Rudy Fuggedaboutit was obscured. The grave site was unmarked, and the dwarfs scurried away, each to his own assigned task.
The End
The Complete Saga of the Dwarf Lords Coming Soon!
Ned announces that due to popular demand, he will soon put the entire saga of the dwarf lords together in one immense, Iliad-like submission. There will also be edits and never-before released material, including the Internment Ceremony for the Moose Pizzles. Watch for it soon!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
New Halfbright Fellow Announced
Ned and his Nominating Committee, consisting of himself, Prof Dr Q A Wagstaff OBE, FRS, and sundry persons who wish to remain anonymous because of threats made against them, announce the conferring of a new Halfbright Fellowship, with all the honors and privileges pertaining thereto, upon Speaker of the House of Representatives John Boehner. The award is more than merited for the following reasons:
Boehner was a successful businessman before being elected to Congress from an uber-safe Republican district, Ohio's 8th. He has only two children and has been married to the same person for more than 30 years. The most conservative persons in his party are reportedly not always satisfied with his votes on conservative issues. While being an arch conservative, his opponents say he will always listen respectfully to their point of view. So why is a person with these apparent qualities a natural Halfbright? The committee feels that they must apply the reason given by the Ent as to why the Ents would go to war with Saromon: given his knowledge, "a wizard should know better."
Boehner has apparently sold his soul to lobbyists, passing out checks from tobacco lobbyists on the House floor, and to the know-nothing Tea Partiers and Birthers, the most ignorant of the ignorant, and has displayed the most blatant cynicism and sanctimonious hypocrisy on fiscal issues: saying of the knuckle-draggers in his party 'I can't tell the American people what to think,' and saying of his proposal to cut 200,000 federal jobs through budget-cutting, 'too bad if these people lose their jobs--we're (meaning the US) broke!' Such a display of Pontius Pilate-like hand washing as well as contempt for the intelligence of even his supporters, and the contempt for among the few persons left in this country who have some decent salaries and benefits, other than the Sneering Plutocrats who make up most of Boehner's associates away from the House, make him a natural Halfbright. Because, in the final analysis, "A wizard should know better!"
Congradulations, Speaker Boehner!
Boehner was a successful businessman before being elected to Congress from an uber-safe Republican district, Ohio's 8th. He has only two children and has been married to the same person for more than 30 years. The most conservative persons in his party are reportedly not always satisfied with his votes on conservative issues. While being an arch conservative, his opponents say he will always listen respectfully to their point of view. So why is a person with these apparent qualities a natural Halfbright? The committee feels that they must apply the reason given by the Ent as to why the Ents would go to war with Saromon: given his knowledge, "a wizard should know better."
Boehner has apparently sold his soul to lobbyists, passing out checks from tobacco lobbyists on the House floor, and to the know-nothing Tea Partiers and Birthers, the most ignorant of the ignorant, and has displayed the most blatant cynicism and sanctimonious hypocrisy on fiscal issues: saying of the knuckle-draggers in his party 'I can't tell the American people what to think,' and saying of his proposal to cut 200,000 federal jobs through budget-cutting, 'too bad if these people lose their jobs--we're (meaning the US) broke!' Such a display of Pontius Pilate-like hand washing as well as contempt for the intelligence of even his supporters, and the contempt for among the few persons left in this country who have some decent salaries and benefits, other than the Sneering Plutocrats who make up most of Boehner's associates away from the House, make him a natural Halfbright. Because, in the final analysis, "A wizard should know better!"
Congradulations, Speaker Boehner!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Undisclosed Location Disclosed!
Ned's superior's have, through the extensive chain of command that characterizes Ned's organization, cleared him to reveal that his Undisclosed Location is Phoenix, Arizona. Ned can confirm that he has formed no good impression of the city. It is made up of too-wide streets, car lots, malls, fast food joints and all the other detritus that typifies a "modern" American city, except more so. It does have one attribute that many lack, however, and no, it is not an underabundance of obese people. It is a surfeit of insane drivers. Ned was nearly mown down by a red light runner yesterday and he plans to be extra cautious today. He asks his friends to wish him well.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
More undercover work
Ned wishes to assure his many friends, as well as his young readers pining for their next installment of the Saga of the Dwarf Lords, that Ned is on top of things. He has, however, committed himself to a bit of undercover work at an Undisclosed Location in the desert Southwest. Ned may report further on this subject later, as his task matures. Let it be said, however, that like all Ned's undercover work, it involves the Protection of Freedom and the Defeat of Tyranny. And new Sky Club adventures.
Monday, February 7, 2011
More whining from geezerdom
Ned opened his local paper this morning to see an irate letter, mercifully short, from an individual who described himself as "on a fixed income". He proceeded to complain, in his best 'get off my lawn!' voice, about the cost of the local bus subsidy, which of course allows "seniors" among others to ride the bus for 35 cents, saying thusly: "Who pays for this subsidy? Why, seniors on fixed income, that's who." Now Ned is sick to death of whining retirees, snugly ensconced as they are with a guaranteed social security payment, indexed for inflation so that their purchasing power is protected, and the recipients of heavily subsidized medical care that everyone would like to have, who never have to woory about losing thir income, or having to take a pay cut, or of being laid off, or of being unemployed and losing their house. In fact, Ned suspects that just about any American, short of a member of the Sneering Plutocracy, would love to be able to count on a "fixed income" since about 20% of us are out of work or working less than we would like. And many of us have lost our health "insurance" or never had it to begin with.
So if Ned never has to listen to another whining selfish old swine complaining about his or her "fixed income", it'll be too soon. They can all go to the devil.
So if Ned never has to listen to another whining selfish old swine complaining about his or her "fixed income", it'll be too soon. They can all go to the devil.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Ubiquitous Food Stickers
Ned has finally decided to decry the apparently entrenched if not growing tendency of food retailers to place tiny, nearly impossible-to-remove stickers on every piece of fresh fruit and vegetables, necessitating that buyers spend an increasing amount of time removing said items, in an already crowded daily schedule. Today, Ned noticed every tomato, zucchini, apple, pear, and pepper he purchased was ornamented with such a tag, not of course to mention items like oranges or bananas in which the skin is not consumed, but which many of his friends compost. Ned wonders how it is that those staff members who attend to checkout stands cannot be trained to recognize, say, the difference between a yellow pepper and a cucumber, or an apple from a zucchini. Ned recalls hearing politicians constantly describe this as 'The Greatest Country In The World" and wonders how such a thing can be true when our citizenry cannot be trusted to tell a pear from a tomato.
Just another thought: rather than curse the darkness, Ned will light a candle, and suggest his friends should perhaps look for recipes featuring small paper stickers--perhaps sauteed with poblano peppers and served over rice.
Just another thought: rather than curse the darkness, Ned will light a candle, and suggest his friends should perhaps look for recipes featuring small paper stickers--perhaps sauteed with poblano peppers and served over rice.
The Dwarf Lords Take A Break
Although the Saga of the Dwarf Lords and the Magic Negro is taking a short break while Ned attends to more pedestrian matters, he would like to assure his perhaps anxious young readers that the next installment is forthcoming. Ned admonishes his young friends to, in the meantime, clean their rooms and do their homework.
An Update from Q A Wagstaff, OBE, FRS!
Ned's followers are aware that he is favored from time to time with updates on the British political scene with commentaries by his esteemed colleague Prof Dr Q A Wagstaff, FRS, OBE. The prof has favored Ned with the following, from Wagstaff's Undisclosed Location somewhere in the fens and moorlands of the Great Frozen North (of England that is):
"You were asking about the LibCon-ConLib coalition. There is quite a lot of writhing and spluttering going on after Cameron delighted the far-right (as well as Angela Merkle and the oh-so-wee-but-apparently-sexy Nicolas Sarkozy) with his headlining attack on multiculturalism yesterday. It coincided with yesterday's anti-Asian demo in Luton, the largest ever. Thankfully, for Cameron and his cronies, it pales before events in Egypt. The Libs have wrecked themselves in their delusions of adequacy. There are major local elections plus devolved Scottish and Welsh parliamentary elections in early May when the LibDems' hubris will be rewarded handsomely. We here especially regret the painful dithering of Obama. A good slogan for the demonstrators in Tahrir Square might be, 'Obama, you are an African" (grist for the mill of knuckledraggers here, sad to say--ed.) "so pull your thumb out of your ass'. Anyhow, the western so-called democracies are terrified by actual demands for democracy in the Middle East and the overthrow of its tyrants (Syria and Iran next?).
"In fact they are terrified because every opposition organisation in Egypt is dominated by, guess who... Muslims. Not just the Muslim Brotherhood, but every shade from Trotskyist to Tory. Now there's a thing: Public opinion in the Middle East is flavoured by the writings of a 7th century prophet - at least a bit more up to date than the inspiration for most US public opinion. It isn't just Mubarak who has been sand-bagged by the millions on the street in Cairo and Alexandria, yet neither have they been burning the Stars and Stripes nor hanging effigies of Uncle Sam. Nope, they actually trust Obama, which may be their big mistake."
Yours &tc,
Wagstaff
"You were asking about the LibCon-ConLib coalition. There is quite a lot of writhing and spluttering going on after Cameron delighted the far-right (as well as Angela Merkle and the oh-so-wee-but-apparently-sexy Nicolas Sarkozy) with his headlining attack on multiculturalism yesterday. It coincided with yesterday's anti-Asian demo in Luton, the largest ever. Thankfully, for Cameron and his cronies, it pales before events in Egypt. The Libs have wrecked themselves in their delusions of adequacy. There are major local elections plus devolved Scottish and Welsh parliamentary elections in early May when the LibDems' hubris will be rewarded handsomely. We here especially regret the painful dithering of Obama. A good slogan for the demonstrators in Tahrir Square might be, 'Obama, you are an African" (grist for the mill of knuckledraggers here, sad to say--ed.) "so pull your thumb out of your ass'. Anyhow, the western so-called democracies are terrified by actual demands for democracy in the Middle East and the overthrow of its tyrants (Syria and Iran next?).
"In fact they are terrified because every opposition organisation in Egypt is dominated by, guess who... Muslims. Not just the Muslim Brotherhood, but every shade from Trotskyist to Tory. Now there's a thing: Public opinion in the Middle East is flavoured by the writings of a 7th century prophet - at least a bit more up to date than the inspiration for most US public opinion. It isn't just Mubarak who has been sand-bagged by the millions on the street in Cairo and Alexandria, yet neither have they been burning the Stars and Stripes nor hanging effigies of Uncle Sam. Nope, they actually trust Obama, which may be their big mistake."
Yours &tc,
Wagstaff
Saturday, February 5, 2011
7. Inside The GOP!
The dwarfs were overjoyed to be in a place of safety at last. The first person they noticed was a young blonde woman sitting behind a polished desk with nothing on top (of the desk, not the young woman) but a computer and a phone. Her nametag read “Neveah Lord”. She was dressed in a very short skirt with a very low-cut top revealing very large breasts, above which dangled a large gold bejeweled cross hanging from a heavy golden chain. She also wore knee-high boots, and had on much makeup. Haley had said while coming in that they should probably not enquire further for The Magic Negro in view of the response he had just experienced, and that they should find out what these people called their leader. Therefore Thune the Great asked, ‘What do you call the leader who lives in The Great White House, for we are strangers just arrived.’ ‘Communist. Socialist. Baby-killer. Muslim. America-hater. Marxist. That’s what we call him.’
‘But,’ pursued Huckle of the Billy Hills, ‘Does he not have a name?’
You’re kidding me, right? It’s Osama or Obama. What-ever.’
‘Well,’ Timmy Pee asked, ‘Does he not have great power and riches, and a Great Wand by which he controls his enemies?’
Neveah looked alarmed and whispered, “Don’t say anything about that wand! You’ll get us all into trouble! And, no I don’t think he’s really rich. And as for power, he can’t even control his own party so I don’t think he’s that powerful.’
‘Well,’ Little Newt asked, ‘Can you tell us what you believe in, your GOP, that will help us defeat this Obama Whatever?’
‘The sanctity of life and the love of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!’
‘The sanctity of all life? What a noble cause!’ Said Huckle admiringly.
‘No, silly! Only unborn life. The Lord Jesus Christ says that all born of woman deserve death and hell fire and must be saved!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Thought Timmy Pee. And he shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing at his friends. Only Little Newt looked pleased with this response, and smiled smugly.
‘Well,’ pursued Romni gamely, ‘You do believe in equal opportunity I guess. For example, how did you get your job here?’
‘Oh, it was something my daddy heard about and he told me to apply. My daddy is very well-to-do. He’s a CEO of a big company and a big donor to the GOP, and he knows my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s a congressman.’
‘My!’ said Romni, ‘I had no idea your leaders were so young. Why, you can’t be much over twenty-one can you?’
‘No’, she smiled, “I’m twenty-one, and my boyfriend is 55. His ex-wife is real old.’ At this the dwarfs looked more uneasy still, except for Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose eyes lighted up. ‘Well, where do your parents live? Here?’
‘No. We have lots of houses. Right now my mom is in Vail with her ski instructor Mr Buff, and Dad’s in London at the flat with his personal assistant Miss Peters. They travel a lot.’
‘Way-yull,’ Haley asked, What else do yew believe in?’
‘Oh, family values!’ And Neveah's eyes lighted up even more, while she fingered her large golden cross. Rudy watched her rather as a cat might watch a small injured bird. ‘You must have gone to a good school to get a job like this,‘ He offered.
‘Well, yeah! I just graduated from Liberty University with a Major in Christian Studies. My boyfriend is very interested in that as well. Most of the people who work here have been born again. Praise The Lord! But here’s Marcus and Eddie the Third! They have all sorts of good stuff to tell you!’
To be continued.
‘But,’ pursued Huckle of the Billy Hills, ‘Does he not have a name?’
You’re kidding me, right? It’s Osama or Obama. What-ever.’
‘Well,’ Timmy Pee asked, ‘Does he not have great power and riches, and a Great Wand by which he controls his enemies?’
Neveah looked alarmed and whispered, “Don’t say anything about that wand! You’ll get us all into trouble! And, no I don’t think he’s really rich. And as for power, he can’t even control his own party so I don’t think he’s that powerful.’
‘Well,’ Little Newt asked, ‘Can you tell us what you believe in, your GOP, that will help us defeat this Obama Whatever?’
‘The sanctity of life and the love of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!’
‘The sanctity of all life? What a noble cause!’ Said Huckle admiringly.
‘No, silly! Only unborn life. The Lord Jesus Christ says that all born of woman deserve death and hell fire and must be saved!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Thought Timmy Pee. And he shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing at his friends. Only Little Newt looked pleased with this response, and smiled smugly.
‘Well,’ pursued Romni gamely, ‘You do believe in equal opportunity I guess. For example, how did you get your job here?’
‘Oh, it was something my daddy heard about and he told me to apply. My daddy is very well-to-do. He’s a CEO of a big company and a big donor to the GOP, and he knows my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s a congressman.’
‘My!’ said Romni, ‘I had no idea your leaders were so young. Why, you can’t be much over twenty-one can you?’
‘No’, she smiled, “I’m twenty-one, and my boyfriend is 55. His ex-wife is real old.’ At this the dwarfs looked more uneasy still, except for Rudy Fuggedaboutit, whose eyes lighted up. ‘Well, where do your parents live? Here?’
‘No. We have lots of houses. Right now my mom is in Vail with her ski instructor Mr Buff, and Dad’s in London at the flat with his personal assistant Miss Peters. They travel a lot.’
‘Way-yull,’ Haley asked, What else do yew believe in?’
‘Oh, family values!’ And Neveah's eyes lighted up even more, while she fingered her large golden cross. Rudy watched her rather as a cat might watch a small injured bird. ‘You must have gone to a good school to get a job like this,‘ He offered.
‘Well, yeah! I just graduated from Liberty University with a Major in Christian Studies. My boyfriend is very interested in that as well. Most of the people who work here have been born again. Praise The Lord! But here’s Marcus and Eddie the Third! They have all sorts of good stuff to tell you!’
To be continued.
6. The Dwarf Lords in River City Encounter a Local
With their available funds, and using Little Newt's credit card, the dwarfs found it easy to book a flight to the City of the Magic Negro. The only snag was that they had to check their moose pizzles, wrapped in plastic bags. Having secured accommodation, the dwarfs set about to find their way to the Great White House to confront the Magic Negro. Walking along a broad thoroughfare they fell into conversation with a denizen of the city, dressed in sweatshirt and hood, and wearing dark glasses such that they could see little of his countenance. 'One thing we like about your country' Newt cried, 'is the wide availability of firearms. We only wish every able-bodied person were required to own and carry a firearm. We believe the cities would be much safer.' Haley of the Red Neck, taking charge again, said 'Could y'all tell us how to git to the house of this here Magic Nigra?' Now their new acquaintance, due probably to listening to rap music at 110 decibels for a decade or more, coupled with the muffling effects of his hoodie, was a bit hard of hearing. He therefore unfortunately misunderstood the question, and put the worst possible interpretation on it. 'Who you callin' a n-----?' the man asked indignantly. 'Hell, I just met you ass-----. 'Stick 'em up!' He pulled out a large pistol, and proceeded to strip the dwarfs of their valuables, but declined to take their moose pizzles, which they had brought along for safety. 'And if you sorry-ass dwarfs want my advice, you don't ask nobody else questions like that!' With that, he gave Haley an admonitory tap on the head with his pistol, to serve as a memory-enhancer, which drew not an inconsiderable amount of blood, and vanished down a dark alley.
After staunching their friend's wound, they looked about them seeking succor, but were ignored by passers-by. However, it is an ill wind indeed that blows nobody any good, and they noticed they were adjacent to a large building inscribed 'GOP Headquarters.' 'Surely,' cried Timmy Pee, 'here we will find some answers to our quest!' The other dwarfs agreed, and, without further delay, they went inside.
To be continued.
After staunching their friend's wound, they looked about them seeking succor, but were ignored by passers-by. However, it is an ill wind indeed that blows nobody any good, and they noticed they were adjacent to a large building inscribed 'GOP Headquarters.' 'Surely,' cried Timmy Pee, 'here we will find some answers to our quest!' The other dwarfs agreed, and, without further delay, they went inside.
To be continued.
Friday, February 4, 2011
5. A Narrow Escape
Just as Cracker Bodine (such was his name) was unhitching his trousers, which were richly stained with material of a deep brown color, and began to circle around Haley, prompting his associates to began to smile, anticipating some unexpected sport, a great knocking was heard at the door. 'Open up! City tax inspector!' and in strode a very fat man chewing on a very wet cigar, wearing a badge and a name tag that said simply "BUTTS." Holding an official-looking form containing a small picture, Butts scanned the room briefly then asked 'Are yew Cracker Sparky Bovine?' 'Bodine,' said Cracker, sullenly. 'What the hell do yew want?' 'I have here a warrant to seize this proppity' and he looked about himself with no great reverence for the property he was about to seize,'for nonpayment of city taxes. 'Cracker turned to his associate angrily and said 'Goddamit Booger, I gave you the money to pay them taxes last week! 'Wey-yull,'the individual so-named replied sheepishly, 'I was a-meanin' to, but my girl friend Curly Fay had to go over to Eufala and visit a doctor right sudden.' 'Shit, Booger that girl is only eleven!' Naw! Well, twelve next month!'
Butts waved them to be silent with evident disgust, and began,'This proppitymustbesealedandunoccupieduntilpaymentofasumtobedeterminedbyamagistrate...'. He was about to go on until his attention was drawn to the dwarf lords and their fly-encrusted moose pizzles.'Who in blazes are yew and what the hell are yew wearing?' Before the dwarfs could answer Butts noticed the boiling rat and peremptorily declared 'no cooking may be done in the presence of insect infestations. Yew are also in violation of city health laws. Now you and yer friends git outside and wait by my van!' he ordered the dwarfs, who were only too happy to comply, and out they scurried.
When Butts had secured the premises, he turned his attention to the dwarf lords, thusly. 'I have never seen such a crew in my entire professional career. What the hell are you fellows up to?' And the dwarfs briefly tried to explain their quest, omitting any mention of seizing the Magic Negro's treasure and Great Wand.
'Why hell, them border guards were just havin' a little fun with yew. Did you offer them any money in the way of an inducement to allow you in? If not, they wuz expectin' it, a sort-of 'irregular gratuity,' if you know what I mean. And if you didn't, why you can give it to me.' and the dwarf lords collected their remaining money and gave Deputy Butts a large part of it. 'Now, take them damn pizzles off yer neck. If you have to keep them, stuff 'em in your pockets, Otherwiseyewareguiltyofcreatingapublicnuisanceundersection332ofthecitycode', he droned.
They imediately complied, with evident relief, and enquired about securing a guide to the City of the Magic Negro. 'Hell, you don't need no guide. They was just havin' a bit of fun. Just head on down this highway and follow the signs. If you have any trouble, just give 'em this note and say it is from Deputy Wurzel Buddy Butts.'
And so, relishing their narrow escape the dwarf lords began the final phase of their Quest, to meet and vanquish The Magic Negro.
Butts waved them to be silent with evident disgust, and began,'This proppitymustbesealedandunoccupieduntilpaymentofasumtobedeterminedbyamagistrate...'. He was about to go on until his attention was drawn to the dwarf lords and their fly-encrusted moose pizzles.'Who in blazes are yew and what the hell are yew wearing?' Before the dwarfs could answer Butts noticed the boiling rat and peremptorily declared 'no cooking may be done in the presence of insect infestations. Yew are also in violation of city health laws. Now you and yer friends git outside and wait by my van!' he ordered the dwarfs, who were only too happy to comply, and out they scurried.
When Butts had secured the premises, he turned his attention to the dwarf lords, thusly. 'I have never seen such a crew in my entire professional career. What the hell are you fellows up to?' And the dwarfs briefly tried to explain their quest, omitting any mention of seizing the Magic Negro's treasure and Great Wand.
'Why hell, them border guards were just havin' a little fun with yew. Did you offer them any money in the way of an inducement to allow you in? If not, they wuz expectin' it, a sort-of 'irregular gratuity,' if you know what I mean. And if you didn't, why you can give it to me.' and the dwarf lords collected their remaining money and gave Deputy Butts a large part of it. 'Now, take them damn pizzles off yer neck. If you have to keep them, stuff 'em in your pockets, Otherwiseyewareguiltyofcreatingapublicnuisanceundersection332ofthecitycode', he droned.
They imediately complied, with evident relief, and enquired about securing a guide to the City of the Magic Negro. 'Hell, you don't need no guide. They was just havin' a bit of fun. Just head on down this highway and follow the signs. If you have any trouble, just give 'em this note and say it is from Deputy Wurzel Buddy Butts.'
And so, relishing their narrow escape the dwarf lords began the final phase of their Quest, to meet and vanquish The Magic Negro.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
4. The Dwarf Lords Enter the Land of Men
The dwarf lords left the village in some disarray. The innkeeper bade them a fond farewell, his pockets bulging with lucre. His daughter, according to the chronicles, was enrolled in a boarding school soon after. The village was on the edge of the Land of Men, so it was not long before the dwarfs reached the border. There, they enquired of the guards how best to reach the city of the Magic Negro, but the guards informed them tersely that security concerns forbad them giving out that information, and eyed them suspiciously. 'What business could seven dwarfs wearing moose pizzles have with our Fearless Leader? Speak quickly!' one cried. 'We wish to but study his governance, as in our country we have many problems that his counsel might address', said Romni, the moat presentable of the rather bedraggled bunch.
'We mean no disrespect.' 'Well, we are not allowed to permit you to enter the Magic Negro's City unescorted, so you must find a guide.' Romni looked about him, waving away the growing cloud of flies that were drawn to the now stinking moose pizzle amulet around his neck. He noticed a shack nearby that had 'Tourist Information' printed by hand on the door. He went in, and motioned to his friends to follow him. Inside, in a low, mean room, he found several vile looking men crouched about a cooking fire. One looked up, and Haley of the Red Neck said with bravado, 'Ah'll handle these fellers. Y'all know how to git to the city of the Magic--ah--Nigra?' The man who looked up shouted to another, 'Hey Cracker you wanna he'p there dwarfs?' The man called Cracker looked up from the pot in which he was apparently trying to boil a large rat, and said, leering horribly at the sleek dwarf, 'You ain't from around here, are ya?' This Cracker was a small man with matted hair, and his grin exposed several blackened teeth. Haley of the Red Neck began to wonder whether he had acted prudently as he looked about him with growing alarm.
To be continued.
'We mean no disrespect.' 'Well, we are not allowed to permit you to enter the Magic Negro's City unescorted, so you must find a guide.' Romni looked about him, waving away the growing cloud of flies that were drawn to the now stinking moose pizzle amulet around his neck. He noticed a shack nearby that had 'Tourist Information' printed by hand on the door. He went in, and motioned to his friends to follow him. Inside, in a low, mean room, he found several vile looking men crouched about a cooking fire. One looked up, and Haley of the Red Neck said with bravado, 'Ah'll handle these fellers. Y'all know how to git to the city of the Magic--ah--Nigra?' The man who looked up shouted to another, 'Hey Cracker you wanna he'p there dwarfs?' The man called Cracker looked up from the pot in which he was apparently trying to boil a large rat, and said, leering horribly at the sleek dwarf, 'You ain't from around here, are ya?' This Cracker was a small man with matted hair, and his grin exposed several blackened teeth. Haley of the Red Neck began to wonder whether he had acted prudently as he looked about him with growing alarm.
To be continued.
3. In the Land of the Moose Queen (cont'd)
The dwarfs marveled at the beauty of the Moose Queen, but Timmy Pee was troubled. 'I have lusted after her in my heart,' he cried to Rudy Fuggedaboutit ,'and my soul stands sore charged!' 'Fuggedaboutit!' cried Rudy of the Teeming City. 'Take one of my viagras and we'll stop off in the village on our way out.' Timmy Pee was not solaced, however.
All the while, Newt the Coiffed was admiring the Moose Queen's domain. It consisted of a large castle and a vast enclosure inside which many myriad of moose roamed, of all sizes. Scattered throughout were a number of what appeared to Newt to be watchtowers, The entire enclosure, vast as it was, was surrounded by a high fence. 'Is this a moose sanctuary?' He asked respectfully. 'In a sense', the Moose Queen replied, smiling. 'We keep them inside, and from time to time a sportsman comes, climbs a tower and shoots one. We cut off the head for mounting and give the meat to the dogs, the villagers or the Wild Men of the Forest. The sportsmen go home with a trophy.' 'So you are a small businesswoman! An entrepreneur!' cried Newt the Coiffed. 'Friends! Here is truly one of us! Is there a tax cut we can give you? What about an agricultural subsidy? A waiver of the Death Tax?' And here the dwarfs waxed glad indeed. 'No,' the Queen replied,' I pay no taxes as it is. In fact, I have an easement on the property because of some favors I did a local "businessman" recently, and the local burghers pay me!' And here the eyes of the dwarfs were glad, indeed.
'But, Moose Queen,' said Huck of the Billy Hills, 'we need a charm to ward off the powers of the Magic Negro, and the innkeeper said you could help us. If you can, we will name you Our Lady of the Quest!' 'Here', said Her Majesty, 'Here are moose pizzles for you all. Keep them around your neck and you will be immune to the power of the Dark Lord of the Great River.' The gratefulness of the dwarfs was tempered just a bit by the many flies that buzzed about each moose pizzle as they affixed them to a chain about their necks. But off they trudged, singing, accompanied by their large clouds of flies.
As they left the domain of the Moose Queen, Newt observed to Rudy, 'I have indeed lusted in my heart too for the body of the Moose Queen.' 'Yeh' said Rudy, 'Youse can join me and Timmy in the village. I'm gonna make the innkeeper's daughter an offer she can't refuse!'
All the while, Newt the Coiffed was admiring the Moose Queen's domain. It consisted of a large castle and a vast enclosure inside which many myriad of moose roamed, of all sizes. Scattered throughout were a number of what appeared to Newt to be watchtowers, The entire enclosure, vast as it was, was surrounded by a high fence. 'Is this a moose sanctuary?' He asked respectfully. 'In a sense', the Moose Queen replied, smiling. 'We keep them inside, and from time to time a sportsman comes, climbs a tower and shoots one. We cut off the head for mounting and give the meat to the dogs, the villagers or the Wild Men of the Forest. The sportsmen go home with a trophy.' 'So you are a small businesswoman! An entrepreneur!' cried Newt the Coiffed. 'Friends! Here is truly one of us! Is there a tax cut we can give you? What about an agricultural subsidy? A waiver of the Death Tax?' And here the dwarfs waxed glad indeed. 'No,' the Queen replied,' I pay no taxes as it is. In fact, I have an easement on the property because of some favors I did a local "businessman" recently, and the local burghers pay me!' And here the eyes of the dwarfs were glad, indeed.
'But, Moose Queen,' said Huck of the Billy Hills, 'we need a charm to ward off the powers of the Magic Negro, and the innkeeper said you could help us. If you can, we will name you Our Lady of the Quest!' 'Here', said Her Majesty, 'Here are moose pizzles for you all. Keep them around your neck and you will be immune to the power of the Dark Lord of the Great River.' The gratefulness of the dwarfs was tempered just a bit by the many flies that buzzed about each moose pizzle as they affixed them to a chain about their necks. But off they trudged, singing, accompanied by their large clouds of flies.
As they left the domain of the Moose Queen, Newt observed to Rudy, 'I have indeed lusted in my heart too for the body of the Moose Queen.' 'Yeh' said Rudy, 'Youse can join me and Timmy in the village. I'm gonna make the innkeeper's daughter an offer she can't refuse!'
3 The Dwarf Lords Seek a Lady of the Quest
Tired in body and spirit, the dwarf lords plodded all day on the road through the mountains on their way to the City of The Magic Negro. As evening fell, they chanced to spy an inn, with a welcoming light in the window, and smoke coming up the chimney. They entered and found rooms for the night. After feasting on ground body part and more Lite Ale, they fell into conversation with their host, the innkeeper and his beautiful daughter.
'We have indeed heard tales of the Evil Negro and his Great Wand', said their host, 'but we have ways to protect our daughters from his spell. The Lady of the Moose lives in a glen at the foot of a mighty mountain not three leagues from here, and she can make an amulet that counters the Magic Negro's power.' And at this, the dwarfs looked at the innkeeper's daughter approvingly, although it must be said that the look given her by Rudy Fuggedaboutit and Haley of the Red Neck was more akin to a leer.
'You should ascend to the Moose Queen's home at break of day', the innkeeper advised them. And so they went to bed, much encouraged, and talked of NASCAR and prayed to Jesus (or so it seemed) before retiring. At break of day, they took a quick repast and set off. After an hour or so, they saw a great stone castle, with moose antlers guarding the great door. 'This must be the place', said Romni with wonder. In the yard of the castle was a Lady, wondrous fair, who was butchering a small moose. Although her hands dripped with carrion, she smiled lustily and greeted them thus: 'You are the Dwarf Lords on a quest. Your fame you see has preceded you. How may I serve you?' And with this, she cut off a moose pizzle and threw it into a growing ple. They shuddered, but Little Timmy cried, 'We seek a charm that will protect us against the Magic Negro!'
'You have come to the right place,'she smiled.
To be continued.
'We have indeed heard tales of the Evil Negro and his Great Wand', said their host, 'but we have ways to protect our daughters from his spell. The Lady of the Moose lives in a glen at the foot of a mighty mountain not three leagues from here, and she can make an amulet that counters the Magic Negro's power.' And at this, the dwarfs looked at the innkeeper's daughter approvingly, although it must be said that the look given her by Rudy Fuggedaboutit and Haley of the Red Neck was more akin to a leer.
'You should ascend to the Moose Queen's home at break of day', the innkeeper advised them. And so they went to bed, much encouraged, and talked of NASCAR and prayed to Jesus (or so it seemed) before retiring. At break of day, they took a quick repast and set off. After an hour or so, they saw a great stone castle, with moose antlers guarding the great door. 'This must be the place', said Romni with wonder. In the yard of the castle was a Lady, wondrous fair, who was butchering a small moose. Although her hands dripped with carrion, she smiled lustily and greeted them thus: 'You are the Dwarf Lords on a quest. Your fame you see has preceded you. How may I serve you?' And with this, she cut off a moose pizzle and threw it into a growing ple. They shuddered, but Little Timmy cried, 'We seek a charm that will protect us against the Magic Negro!'
'You have come to the right place,'she smiled.
To be continued.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
2. The Quest of the Dwarf Lords
As the dwarf lords trudged though a dark wood on their way to the land of the Magic Negro, they happened to pass a dank hut, overgrown with the rankest weeds. As they passed, wet and shuddering, a giant troll emerged from the hut. 'STOP!' He cried. "I am the keeper of the Holy Flame. Only the purest in heart can pass! Are you pure? Do you adhere to the one True Faith? Speak!' He commanded. 'Yea!' The dwarfs cried. Romni squeaked, 'I am the true believer! I even accept Brigham Young as my savior in addition to Jesus!' 'Don't listen to him!' Cried Huck of the Billy Hills. 'Jesus is my own personal savior!' 'Wait' cried Thune the Great, 'I speak to Jesus ever day!'. Little Timmy cried, 'I base all my daily actions on the dictates of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!' To this, The Newt and all the others cried 'Amen Lord, Amen!'
But the Giant Troll, Keeper of the Holy Flame cried 'STOP!' I don't give a rats ass about any Jesus. Are you FISCALLY SOUND? Do you believe in the one True Way? Do you adhere to 'less government', 'fewer regulations','more freedom, and no taxes on your betters in the Sneering Plutocracy? Speak!'
'Yea!!' All the dwarfs cried, with apparent relief. But the Newt cried 'What about family values? I have had more wives than anyone. I am the Prince of Family Values!' And all the other dwarfs groaned.
'Pass!' Cried the Troll. 'You are all worthy to challenge the Magic Negro and seize his Magic Wand!'
And, with a giant sigh of relief, they all opened another Lite Ale and trudged along the path that led to the Great White House.
But the Giant Troll, Keeper of the Holy Flame cried 'STOP!' I don't give a rats ass about any Jesus. Are you FISCALLY SOUND? Do you believe in the one True Way? Do you adhere to 'less government', 'fewer regulations','more freedom, and no taxes on your betters in the Sneering Plutocracy? Speak!'
'Yea!!' All the dwarfs cried, with apparent relief. But the Newt cried 'What about family values? I have had more wives than anyone. I am the Prince of Family Values!' And all the other dwarfs groaned.
'Pass!' Cried the Troll. 'You are all worthy to challenge the Magic Negro and seize his Magic Wand!'
And, with a giant sigh of relief, they all opened another Lite Ale and trudged along the path that led to the Great White House.
1. In The Land Of The Dwarfs
Ned understands that he has many young followers who want to hear a good fable. Ned will therefore begin a story of The Land Of The Dwarfs.
Once upon a time there was a land of the dwarfs. These were mainly chuckle-headed fellows who scorned learning and thought, but loved riches and power above all else. They kept their dwarf women under a Spell, given to them by White Dwarf Lords of Old. One day, the dwarfs were drinking Lite Ale and talking NASCAR in Council, when a messenger arrived, with a fearful look upon his visage. 'Lo!' He cried. 'Word has come of a Great Lord in a land over the mountain, A Magic Negro, who lives in a Great White House on the banks of a mighty river. He has great riches and power, and wields his great power through his Magic Wand! We fear that if our dwarf princesses hear of this our spell will be broken and they will all flee to The Magic Negro's Magic Wand! What shall we do?'
At this news the Dwarfs were sore afraid. But they loved riches above all else, and power over their princesses. So they decided that they must go to the land of the Magic Negro, seize his Magic Wand and take his riches for themselves. This made them very happy until they thought how best to accomplish this quest, and again, they were sore afraid, for they were cowards at heart. But six of their number, quaking with fear, drank more Lite Ale to bolster their courage, and set out for the Land of the Magic Negro. They were Little Newt, Timmy Pee, Huckie of the Billy Hills, Thune who called himself The Great (tho he was very small in mind), Romni the Great Hunter (tho he had in fact only hunted little since he was a lad in the Land of the Great Cult from whence he came), and Rudy Fuggedaboudit the Bald, from a great teeming city.
As they walked through the Great Wood they came upon another dwarf and hailed him, thus: 'Lo! We are on a great quest! To wrest a Great Wand from the Evil Magic Negro who lives in the White House over the mountain Lest he free our princesses from our spell!'
'Well, fellers', said the new dwarf, who was none other than Haley of the Red Neck, 'Ah know all about these Magic nigras, but we didn't call them that where ah hail from!' And he sniggered. 'Ah think ah can handle him!'
And so the Seven Dwarfs set off for the Kingdom of the Magic Negro, to seize his Great Wand and his treasure for themselves.
To be continued.
Once upon a time there was a land of the dwarfs. These were mainly chuckle-headed fellows who scorned learning and thought, but loved riches and power above all else. They kept their dwarf women under a Spell, given to them by White Dwarf Lords of Old. One day, the dwarfs were drinking Lite Ale and talking NASCAR in Council, when a messenger arrived, with a fearful look upon his visage. 'Lo!' He cried. 'Word has come of a Great Lord in a land over the mountain, A Magic Negro, who lives in a Great White House on the banks of a mighty river. He has great riches and power, and wields his great power through his Magic Wand! We fear that if our dwarf princesses hear of this our spell will be broken and they will all flee to The Magic Negro's Magic Wand! What shall we do?'
At this news the Dwarfs were sore afraid. But they loved riches above all else, and power over their princesses. So they decided that they must go to the land of the Magic Negro, seize his Magic Wand and take his riches for themselves. This made them very happy until they thought how best to accomplish this quest, and again, they were sore afraid, for they were cowards at heart. But six of their number, quaking with fear, drank more Lite Ale to bolster their courage, and set out for the Land of the Magic Negro. They were Little Newt, Timmy Pee, Huckie of the Billy Hills, Thune who called himself The Great (tho he was very small in mind), Romni the Great Hunter (tho he had in fact only hunted little since he was a lad in the Land of the Great Cult from whence he came), and Rudy Fuggedaboudit the Bald, from a great teeming city.
As they walked through the Great Wood they came upon another dwarf and hailed him, thus: 'Lo! We are on a great quest! To wrest a Great Wand from the Evil Magic Negro who lives in the White House over the mountain Lest he free our princesses from our spell!'
'Well, fellers', said the new dwarf, who was none other than Haley of the Red Neck, 'Ah know all about these Magic nigras, but we didn't call them that where ah hail from!' And he sniggered. 'Ah think ah can handle him!'
And so the Seven Dwarfs set off for the Kingdom of the Magic Negro, to seize his Great Wand and his treasure for themselves.
To be continued.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Poor Meg Whitman
News reports now confirm that charter member Sneering Plutocrat and ex-"CEO" of eBay Meg Whitman spent $180 million of her "own" money (read, money flayed from the backs of eBay users, shareholders and employees) in a "vain" attempt to be elected Governor of Gullyvornia. In fact, she was trounced by flower child geezer Jerry Brown by 13 points in a landslide. Ned's friends know that he scornfully derides the idea held by Republicans and their lickspittles and rentboys that sneering plutocrats should be allowed to amass ever increasing amounts of filthy lucre, and should be free to do with it as they wish, while the rest of us presumably slink to the back door of the compound and beg a few crumbs that the cat wouldn't eat. Let the debate recommence!
But do not shed any tears for Meg: she has recently been appointed by her co-sneering plutocrats to the HP Board of Directors, where she can pile up more millions by showing up and rubber-stamping HP management in much the same way that the Supreme Soviet "debated and then approved suggestions made by Comrade Stalin."
But do not shed any tears for Meg: she has recently been appointed by her co-sneering plutocrats to the HP Board of Directors, where she can pile up more millions by showing up and rubber-stamping HP management in much the same way that the Supreme Soviet "debated and then approved suggestions made by Comrade Stalin."
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