Sunday, December 18, 2011

Raisin' Arizona, bagel, puleeeeeeeeeze!

Editor's Note:
Mythville MetaMedia/Mythville On-Demand sites for political satire on cyber dramas go "Wallace and Ladmo," says publisher Douglas McDaniel ...
Editor's note: Photo caption below should read "I ain't no fuckin' God particle" ... sorry for the clarity, as well as the hence, confusion ...


     Hey Kids! What's your crime against humanity? Is it worse than the legal, political and civil rights abuses of politicians, legislators and supposed upholders of the law in Arizona? Justice in Arizona is the best fee-based iron mask in American history: a fully-lock steppin' double-edged sword of property-based conceits, where there is typically no right answer for the defendant, who is, in, say, the case of a pot bust, faced with a system that fails to follow even voter-approved medical marijuana laws, while at the same time providing a federal-crime-based punishment enclosure for those it can snare in its crabby net, trying to trip them up, and toy with them, while sucking the air out of even the assholes of the poor, in order to obtain even the smallest of fees ... And its logic? You'd have to go back a long way, to maybe the ages of the Spanish Inquisitions, for any comparisons to even remotely conjure it all up ...

Just to warm up a bit, I thought I'd tell you something about my day, yesterday, which I found very interesting. I went to the creek; we went to the creek, but, forgot our dog. Next time, we bring the dog. Also this, we acted like we owned the place. But no, that's not right, either, because we actually own very little. I mean, I have a Wilco CD, for example, still. And some other stuff. But not very much. Don't really care all that much about what I own: It's all more than I can use at any particular time, so I am blessed with too much stuff.

Dang. The dog needs to pee now. This sucks because I had a story about going down to the creek that I wanted to tell you, but now ... shitsville ... can't do that now. But, to warm some things up, I'll say that after I awoke from my meditation at the creek, I came up with this little story to tell later on, which I did not tell anyone because, well, I got lazy. Plus, there were other issues. Things I cannot say. Hmmm ... seem to be writing a novel now ... I call that novelism, now.

Anyway, the cool part of the story goes like this: Conquistodore and the Jesuit priest come all of the way up north and find themselves at the edge of the Grand Canyon. They go "shit," as in, "no bueno." They are on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. They can go no further north. Not without having to go a mile straight down, that is. Looks pretty suicidal. With nothing but sky above, and, as I was saying before I told you the dog needed to pee, nothing to look at but a shitload of misery straight down.

But Conquistodore is, if nothing else, ambitious. Like Gordon Gecko, "Greed Is Good," always ready for the rumble. He looks at his annoying conquer-mate, the Jesuit priest, and they just shrug. They can read each others minds: "We'll send a slave down there to do our bidding."

So they tell the slave, probably their least favorite but most cooperative Aztec captivee, "Look, here's what we want you to do ... take this here 12-foot rope and go down there ... See if we can cross that river way down there, so we can go on, you know, doing God's work (i.e. continue our plundering of the earth and the murdering of it's people, in order to 'save' them.)"
The slave jumps at the opportunity. Finally, he thinks, a way to get away from these guys. He's given his orders: "First," says the Conquistodore dude, "Find out if they have any gold. Next, take this rope, and then tell them what you understand about Christ Our Lord, and then tie them up, burn them, so they can all be saved."

The slave does this. Meanwhile, the party on the Rim stood around and considered the benefits of something that would later be invented. It will be called a "leafblower." Nobody is sure if the slave made it all of the way down to the river, which later became known as the Colorado River, because he never came back. The Conquistodore and the annoying Jesuit priest left with their party of "converts" and slaves as such, probably turned right.

Time for the doggie to piss. It's the humane thing to let it do, ya know?

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