Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Musings Of A Talk Show Candidate

Television Star And Mogul Ponders Political Run; Experts Sigh And Wonder If Society Can Learn

Washington, DC (AP) While the Trump presidency continues to fumble its way from disaster to disaster in recent days- the ‘stable genius’ debacle, the racial slurs towards African nations and Haiti, the lack of a response to the false alarm in Hawaii- other names are starting to emerge for the 2020 election. The Golden Globes seemed to provide a launching pad for one of those names. Oprah Winfrey, the former television talk show host, production company mogul, and billionaire based mostly on branding herself, delivered a stirring speech to the audience that left some wondering why she shouldn’t run for office.

“President Oprah. Has a nice ring to it,” Stedman Graham, Winfrey’s longtime partner mused when asked. “That would make me the First Dude, right? Anyway, she’s certainly a whole lot more qualified than the guy who’s in there now, not to mention far more pleasant and empathetic, but let’s face it, anyone would be compared to him. Should it matter that she’s never held political office? Of course not. In the end, it’s her decision, so just wait and see.”

Winfrey herself, approached at a gala in New York, was cryptic as to her intentions. “It’s a nice idea. And sure, I would absolutely do a better job than Trump. I’ll concede, that’s a pretty low bar to step over. I’ve had guests on the Oprah show who you’d think of as the most pitiful people you can imagine, and they’d do better than Trump. Look, it’s a decision that takes time to make, that should be thoroughly considered. I mean, do I want to spend the rest of my life being followed around by the Secret Service? Do I want to go into Congress to do the State Of The Union and call out, ‘You get an amendment! And you get an amendment! Everyone gets a constitutional amendment!’ I haven’t decided that yet.”

The fact that she’s never held office concerns many. “Has this country not learned anything from electing Trump?” presidential historian Wallace Wentworth asked this reporter from his offices at Yale. “Television personality. No political experience. Surrounded by sycophants and yes-men. Has never learned about pragmatism in the political office. Oh, sure, she’s much more polite than the Orange Neanderthal, but that doesn’t qualify her to be President. We need experience in that job, not narcissistic people who have never had to compromise and have never before served in a public office. That includes both sides of the political aisle.”

“Hey!” Trump snarled while reporters asked him about the professor’s remarks. The chief executive was in the midst of yet another go at the golf course at Mar-a-Lago rather than doing his job in Washington. “I am not orange! And what the **** is a Neanderwarhol? Ivanka! Go find a dictionary for Big Daddy!” He paused, looked at the media, and added, “Don’t you go quoting me on that! Fake news! Unfair!”

“Yes, she understands empathy,” Princeton sociologist Hannah Prentice conceded when asked at her office. “Yes, she has that feel-good sensibility that just makes people think she’s their friend. But realistically speaking, those are qualities better suited in a preacher, not a president. Those are two very different jobs.”

Which, admittedly, has never stopped Mike Huckabee, the minister turned politician, from making runs at the Republican nomination in the past. In fact, Huckabee, also the father of the current White House press secretary, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, is musing having another go at the nomination in 2020. “Let’s face it, that half-wit dumbass mother****er is going to implode any day now, and when that happens, there’ll be plenty of space for good ol’ Mike Huckabee to come on in for the next election as the GOP’s candidate of reason and compassion and creationism and hellfire and brimstone and women knowin’ their place is in the kitchen and persecutin’ the gays and… wait a minute, you’re not a reporter, are you? Dammit, don’t quote me on anything I just said, or I swear to God, I will end you!”

On a different note, the individual responsible for the false alarm of incoming ballistic missiles into Hawaii a few days ago has been identified. Answering only to Kevin, the small yellow creature has been identified as a Minion. When reached at his employer’s lair, the Minion said something garbled that has been translated to “oops.” Authorities have decided not to pursue the matter.

Monday, January 15, 2018

The Ballad Of A Stable Genius

Stable Genius Becomes Source Of Inspiration, Source Of Ridicule

New York (AP). Questions about the mental stability of the American president in recent days have led Donald Trump to claim he is a “stable genius” and that “my two greatest assets have been mental stability and being, like, really smart.” His remarks have been the subject of ridicule and scorn ever since from all quarters, with some noting that actual geniuses don’t have to say they’re geniuses. His usual assortment of apologists in the White House have been busy on news shows defending their boss and biting their tongues and restraining themselves from rolling their eyes.

Stable genius, meanwhile, has taken on a life of its own in memes, tweets, and other sources of humour since. The Chief Executive of the United States, true to form, has not taken it well, lashing out in tweet storms, insisting on his intelligence and academic credentials, and pointing out to anyone who will listen just how clever he is. “Bigly clever!” Trump tweeted at one point during all the ridicule before moving on to pick a twitter fight with the head of a Swiss orphanage.

The term seems to be inspiring in some ways as well. “We’ve been busy working on a new album,” Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger told reporters as the band was taking a break. Jagger and company, all looking like the ultimate example of what happens when you drink too much and spend too much time indulging in recreational drugs, have spent decades on and off playing the part of the badly behaving rebel, have been preparing for what some are calling the Steel Wheelchair Tour. “We’ve been going back and forth on album titles the whole time… and then he said what he said, and I looked at Keith, and he looked at me, and we both blurted out Stable Geniuses! It’s perfect!”

Another musician, often given to creative warping of another singer’s tune in his own way, is looking to make use of the term. “Stable genius?” parody singer Weird Al Yankovic told reporters at his own studio yesterday. “Just the fact that he said it in the first place is hilarious. So of course I’ve got to write a song centered around the idea of a stable genius and just totally skewer it. I’ve just got to figure out what song to work it into. Do you think Lady Gaga would mind if I messed around with one of her songs?”

Toby Keith, the country singer, professional drinker, cowboy hat wearer, and backer of the GOP, remains oblivious to the notion that the president isn’t the genius he claims to be. “Well, first off, stop making fun of Donald, okay? Second, that phrase is just perfect for a country song. Because we’re all about stables and horses and pick-up trucks and drinkin’ at the bar and all that great stuff, right? So as soon as I’m finished drinkin’ this pack of Coors, I’m writin’ my next big country hit, Stable Genius.”

The phrase has caught flak from some unlikely quarters. Online statements from someone answering to the name SmartyPants2.0 demanded the world stop using the term, claiming to be speaking on behalf of the Sacred Order Of The Stable Geniuses. “We are outraged that people are making fun of the term stable genius, which is so important to us. Simply because that man-child calls himself a stable genius is no reason to treat that term with such ridicule!” the statement read. Subsequent inquiries have determined that the Sacred Order is an enigmatic secret society with more veiled privacy protocols than the Freemasons and the Skull & Bones combined. As a post script, the statement ended with: “… and don’t let that Dan Brown start writing a book about us!”

Super villain and mad scientist Magnus Von Malice, currently imprisoned in Austria after his latest world domination scheme backfired on him, made a statement on the matter when visited by reporters. “First of all, anyone who’s paid any attention to the man knows he’s not a stable genius,” Von Malice remarked. “And I say that as someone who contributed a few million dollars to his campaign. Now then, if you want to see a stable genius, you could look at me, but I’d tell you that you’re wrong. Of course I’m not stable.”

The last word in the matter goes to one of Western society’s more dimwitted cultural figures. The explosion loving director Michael Bay wrote an enthusiastic statement on his Facebook page yesterday. “Stable genius! Great name for a movie, right? I’m thinking film noir classic meets rock n’ country soundtrack meets explosions meets art house cinematic Oscar winner with plenty of explosions. Did I mention the explosions?”

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

It is time for the cat to have her say. Your Grace? The stage is yours.

7:11 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch and a yawn. Slept well. Dreamed of endless amounts of catnip.

7:14 AM. Looking outside. Assessing conditions. More snow overnight. Looks cold. Oh well, it’s not as if I have to be out in it today, right?

7:16 AM. Looking up at the ceiling. Wondering what’s taking my staff so long to get ready. Come on, staff, I have been awake for a full five minutes, and I can hear you moving around up there. I’m hungry already.

7:19 AM. Impatiently waiting. Sounds of the shower on upstairs. Would it be such a trial if the staff happened to set her alarm a half hour earlier so I wouldn’t be kept waiting?

7:31 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. I greet her with head bonks to the legs. It’s about time, staff. I was about to head up there and meow at you. Now then, have you put any thought into my breakfast time?

7:32 AM. Pointing out to the staff my expectations for breakfast. I would prefer my plate of tuna slightly chilled, but of course since you didn’t wake up a half hour early, that’s not possible. I want a bowl of milk too. And would it kill you not to put out a bowl of field rations? You know I don’t care for that stuff.

7:34 AM. The staff puts down my breakfast. A bowl of milk, alongside a plate of chicken. And as usual, the staff persists in her belief that I want field rations, despite my pointing out many times that I don’t want it. I’ll just have to ignore that.

7:36 AM. Finished eating my breakfast. Setting aside the bowl of field rations. Leaving the staff to her breakfast. Heading off into the living room.

7:37 AM. Distant barking. That annoying dog from down the road. Just as long as he stays away from my property.

7:46 AM. The staff is on her way out the door for that work place she goes to. I bid her farewell and instruct her to bring back some catnip.

7:48 AM. Watching out the windows as the car drives off. Okay then, let’s see… how to spend the remainder of the day. Aside from naps. Naps are always a part of every good cat’s day. I am a ranking expert on the subject, after all.

8:39 AM. I have had enough of looking out the windows and watching the flying lunches having a meal at the feeders. I think it’s about time for a nap. I settle down by the fire, tuck a paw over my eyes… and let myself descend into nap time.

10:57 AM. Waking up from my nap. Slept well. That’ll do until my next nap. 

11:06 AM. Despite my reservations, I help myself to some of those field rations.

12:11 PM. Staring outside. Movement at the tree line. It’s not that despicable mutt, is it?

12:12 PM. Not the dog. It’s a big moose. And he’s strolling through the snow… right this way.

12:14 PM. The moose stops near the window and stares at me. I stare back. He stares some more. So of course I stare back. I’ll have you know that if I was outside right now, I would be stalking you.

12:16 PM. The moose takes his leave. As far as I’m concerned, that means I won the staring contest.

1:37 PM. Distant barking again. From the time of day, the mailman must be down the road, just like clockwork, setting off that idiot hound, just like clockwork. Has it ever occurred to dogs that letter carriers are just doing their job?

3:44 PM. Waking up from another nap. Looking at the clock. It’ll be, what? Another hour and a half before the staff gets home? 

5:26 PM. Greeting the staff when she opens up the door with a head bonk. Did you bring any catnip?

5:27 PM. The staff gives my back a stroke. Hey! Watch the cold hands, staff!

5:29 PM. Examining the shopping bags the staff has put down on the table. I see no apparent sign of catnip in these bags. Did you forget, staff? Is it too late for you to turn around and go back to town for some?

6:02 PM. Supervising the staff while she’s doing some cooking. I smell the welcome scent of meat.

6:36 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s been kind enough to cut up some strips of beef for me. I don’t know why she has cauliflower with her meat. Who on earth would want to eat that anyway? 

11:28 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff. Good night. Sweet dreams. If you hear any maddened screeching coming from downstairs at four in the morning, it’s just me, having an epic stare down with a raccoon outside.