“How do you like my outfit?” C.W. burst into the room wearing a long red robe trimmed in Ermine with the “DaKing” embroidered on the lapel. A cheap-looking crown of imitation gold lay slanted on his head. He was cradling a baseball bat with ribbons taped to the top like a scepter. He looked a lot like Jim Carey playing dress-up.
“Don’t tell, me,” I said. “You are going to be …”
“King of Louisiana,” he said. “As soon as we secede from the United States.”
“King of Louisiana,” I said. Of course I was a little bewildered.
“Want to hear our new national anthem?”
“Not really,” I said, with no effect.
“White is the light in Jesus’ sight,
“Along our roads and bayous.”
“Oh no,” I said.
“Our might is right, for truth we fight,
“Bon temps for faithful rouge-cous.”
I was beginning to feel faint.
“Would you like to join me as the power behind the throne?”
My face began to sag. “Are you crazy?”
“No,” he said. “But I did check. You get bonus points on the application for being certifiably insane.”
“The application form?”
“Oh, you have to apply,” he said. “In the old days, an aspirant simply killed the old king, but we are going to be more civilized. Anyway, there is no old king to kill, just a governor and he won’t be eligible because he …”
“Isn’t white,” I said.
“We prefer the word ‘pure.’” He retrieved a reporter’s pad from a pocket of his robe and examined it. “Want to hear my proposed agenda?”
“First, I propose to create a major city on the gulf coast of our country and turn it into a world-class entertainment center, a Mecca, so to speak of music, food, and debauchery.” He stopped and looked at me expectantly. “To attract international tourists. What do you think?”
“I think, C.W. that …”
He interrupted. “Could we go ahead and begin using ‘Your Highness?’”
“I think, C.W., the state already has such a city.”
“Next,” he said. “I will divert a substantial portion of our treasury toward creating a world class sports team that will compete with those of other southern empires.”
“Probably college football.”
“Don’t they already to that?”
“Now, he said. “About the name of our new country.”
“Yes, Texas has already laid claim to ‘Caucasia,’” he stared into space for a few seconds. “That would have been just great.”
“Yes,” I said. “That would fit.”
|Being king would even be more fun|
than being general. - C.W.
And of course Mississippi will be ‘Neverland.’”
Who could argue with that?
“And Alabama picked ‘Kuklanistan’ before we could,” he said. “But how about ‘Blanchland?”
“You are totally nuts,” I said.
He ignored me and started singing again.
“Blanchland, Blanchland, règne sur tout”
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