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Sunday, June 29, 2014

207. Campaigns

Guess you could say the Alien was upset. He came charging into where I was working on the computer, still in the shape of Richie the Young Conservative. Only this time his expensive-looking haircut hung in disarray and tears had spotted his chinos. He was still sobbing.

“It’s your wife,” he said. “She’s trying to ruin me.” His face contorted into a set of wrinkles.

“My wife?”

“Mrs. Big Dope … she’s going to ruin my career.”

“And what career is that today?”

“You know,” he said, “my political advertising career.”

“Oh right,” I said. “You’re going to get rich producing political ads.”

“Not if she has her way,” he said. “You’ve got to stop her.”

“Me?”

“She’s your wife and you are the paterfamilias.”

“Why don’t you calm down and tell me what’s going on,” I said. “And, by the way, I control her about as much as a weather reporter controls rain.”

He drew a breath. “She thinks people are in a state of having one's interest, forbearance, or indulgence worn out with political ads.”

“They are ‘weary’ of them indeed,” I said. “So what is the problem?”

“She’s designing a new way to campaign.”

“And?”

“The way she put it to me is this …” He drew a deep breath. “She has this plan that instead of making TV ads that compare the other candidate to bird droppings or cow poop—you know, the Amerian way—the candidates would take their political contributions and donate them to worthy causes.”

“Say what?”

“Health clinics for the poor,” for example,” he said, “or animal shelters, schools, public work projects, homeless shelters,” He stopped. “Oh,” he said, “the horror! The horror!”

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “Each candidate would donate her or his campaign contributions to charitable causes?”

“Not churches though,” he said.

“Not churches?”

“No. She said something I didn’t quite understand about too much campaign money already being spent to purchase rattlesnakes. No churches. Just worthy causes.”

“I see,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I did. “So what next?”

“People would vote on the candidate that they thought did the most good with their campaign contributions.”

“Oh,” I said. “So the public would actually gain from the political process.”

“Not me,” he said, almost in a wail.

“Or the other ad agencies and television stations.”

“It’s un-American,” he said. “Diverting free speech that way.”

“It’s an interesting thought,” I said. “So we would be voting on the basis of good works?”

“Hell,” he said. “Can you imagine?”

“Not really.”

“My clients might as well be forced to admit what they believe in. Your species should vote on faith.”

“Faith?”

“That the other candidate is worse.”

Could you imagine campaign contributions
going to help the undeserving poor? - C.W.
“Not on the basis of doing good?”

“Never. How idiotic.”

“And my wife thought this up?”

“You’ve got to do something,” he said.

“You know,” I said, “I think I will.”

“What?” he said, looking relieved.

“I think I’ll go in and tell her I love her.”

“Oh,” he said. “The horror! The horror!”


Click an ad. I still need that new computer. - C.W.
And check out www.wattensawpress.com

Sunday, June 22, 2014

206. Tools

Sometimes I worry about C.W. He’s on this kick to get a new computer (I gave him my old one but he is offended). So he comes up with some new money-making scheme almost every day. This one is a doozy.

When he announced it to me, I first thought he had appeared in the shape of Joe McCarthy, the infamous senator from Wisconsin. But, on closer inspection, he was in the shape of a freshman senator from Texas who wants to be the modern reincarnation of "Tail-Gunner Joe" and bears a striking resemblance.

Anyway, the new business idea grew from a speech the Senator’s father made in which he stated that our country needed to quit being “politically correct” and start being “biblically correct.”

“So,” C.W. announced proudly, “my new business—and this is the best yet—will be called, “Scriptural Heavenly Inspirational Tools’ and it will make me a fortune. I’ll have all the computers I want.”

“Uh, C.W.,” I said, “I don’t know what you will be selling, but you may want to reconsider the name of your business.”

“Why?”

I had to explain it three times before he understood. He then said, “We’ll just call it ‘Scriptural Tools’ for short.”

“And you will sell what?”

“Compliance things made or adapted for a particular purpose.”

“And what will these ‘compliance devices’ do?”

“Help make you biblical.” He smiled, and as I was considering this, he reached into a sample case he had with him. He produced a folding stick much like those canes used by the visually impaired. Only this one had a leather-bound handle, was thick at the bottom and tapered to a flexible metal end. He waved it through air menacingly. “Here’s one,” he said proudly. “I call it the ‘Spare Not Obedience Tool’ and it will be a hard currency bovine—cheap to make, easy to sell, and popular with the masses.”

This time I didn’t tell him.

“Here,” he said, producing a box stating that it contained ‘wife organizing software’ and guaranteeing the owner that he would never lose track of any of his wives again. “Have as many wives as you want and never misplace any of them.”

“Thanks. One has proven plenty,” I said. “But then I’ve never been that religious.”

He immediately placed it in the case and pulled another software box out for review. “This one,” he said, “will be sold by special order only … to military men.”

When we make women in America wear veils, it will
become increasingly difficult to keep them organized. - C.W.
I looked. The package showed a provocative photo of a girl of about thirteen posed seductively in a bed of pillows. Its title was Midianite Maidens—The Reason We Fight. “Why the military alone will buy these by the hundreds of thousands,” he said brightly.

“C.W.,” I said. “I must admit. Of all the crazy schemes you have had, this one just might work.”

“So,” he said lifting his chin, “no comments about it being hirsutely-cranial?”

“Not hair-brained at all. Just very biblical.”

“Oh,” he said. “You have made my day. Now let me show you my plans for a back-yard execution post for rebellious children.”
 
I need that new computer so click on some ads. - C.W.
 

Sunday, June 15, 2014

205. Games

“You what?”

“I lost the 20 dollars you gave me. Now I need to borrow a hundred more.”

“You what?”

“Would you please quit yelling?”

“C.W.,” I said, “I have couple of questions.” I looked him over. He appeared much like a young college student in shorts, flip-flops, and a shirt that said, “Kiss me. I’m Irish” printed on it.

“What questions?”

“First,” I said, “how did you lose the 20 dollars?”

“It’s sort of a long story.”

“I have plenty time.”

“It’s like this,” he said. “These two units from the Gamalafferin Galaxy stopped by for a visit and I taught them this game your species loves to play.”

“A game?”

“Yep.”

“And what game would that be?”

“The one you call ‘poker’ and you play with cards.”

“So you taught them to play poker?”

“Yes. They were slow learners at first but they caught on after a while.”

“And?”

“They won my, your, 20 dollars.”

“It is gone?”

“I’m fearful or scared witless so.”

“I’m 'afraid' also, afraid you have been taken for a sucker.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. Tell me why you need to borrow a hundred more.”

“They are coming back.”

“Coming back?”

“They enjoyed the game, so they plan to stop by again.”

“To gamble?”

“Yes,” he said. “This time I’ll up the ante and win my money back.”

“C.W.,” I said. “Sit down.”

He did and I began to explain how it won’t work that way.

“There’s an old gambling adage,” I said. “Scared money doesn’t win.”

He looked confused. “How do you scare money?”

“It’s just a saying,” I said. “It means you shouldn’t gamble when you are afraid of losing.”

“Isn’t your species always afraid of losing?”

“Oh no,” I said. “They always expect to win. Didn’t you?”

He looked sheepish, and that is not a pleasant look on an alien. “I suppose,” he said. “But it is statistically impossible for everyone to win. Doesn’t your species understand that?”

“My species is statistically challenged,” I said. “Computing probabilities is not its strong suit.”

“I’ll say,” he said, “They told me there is this place in their sector where they bet on people throwing little cubes with dots stamped on them. Pretty dumb, huh?”

“Some folks would say so,” I said. “But tell me. Are you sure these guys, uh… units, didn’t know how to play poker?”

He thought for a second, understanding seeming to settle upon him. “You know, they might have. Then the thing that someone says to cause amusement or laughter would be on me.”

I think I could get this gambling thing down
with more practice and better friends. - C.W.
“The 'joke' may certainly have been on you.”

“Now,” he said, “can I have that hundred dollars?”

“You haven’t learned your lesson about playing poker with these units?”

“Oh sure,” he said, as if he were trying to explain matrix algebra to a Rhesus Monkey, “tonight I’ll teach them how to play blackjack.”



Also see www.wattensawpress.com
And click an ad or two to help me get my own computer. - C.W.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Dear Friends and Followers:
Found this on Big Dope's computer. He seems despondent.

Thoughts at the end of the week:

- For the first time I can recall, crazy politicians are being voted out of office not because they are crazy, but because they are not crazy enough.

- In a state ravaged by meth addiction, poverty, low education levels, and bottom tier rankings in every socioeconomic category, an Attorney General candidate in Arkansas vows that her first act, if elected, will be to sue the federal government to end a program duly passed by the American government and upheld by the United States Supreme Court, obviously believing one of the poorest states in the country could afford such nonsense.

- National icon John McCain appears to have “gone MacArthur” on us. His new “Delta Name” may be Sluggo. So sad.

- A couple visited a renegade rancher who was turned into a national hero by Sean Hannity and Fox “News” for threatening federal agents with bloodshed. The couple later murdered two police officers and another innocent person in cold blood before killing themselves. Hannity is still alive and unrepentant.

- Operation Iraqi Freedom continues to prove itself to be one of the greatest policy blunders in U.S. history

- Ollie “Hey Ronnie I know how we can make some money to promote wars in South America” North has once again exhibited a total inability to feel shame by weighing in on foreign policy.

- And the only person anyone seems angry at is an American soldier who was tortured and held captive by enemy forces for five years.
 
Your Friend,
C.W.
 
Also visit www. wattensawpress,com
And click on an ad. I need my own computer.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

204. Opportunity

Good news I suppose. C.W. has decided that he won’t enlist in the Army after all. He announced his decision this afternoon. He had assumed one of his most obnoxious shapes. Of course I refer to Richie the Young Conservative. He was wearing a light summer suit of off-white and a pastel tie. His blond hair glistened and his white buck shoes seemed to sparkle. He was, as they say, all agog.

“I’m free,” he said. “Just told Sergeant Goforth no.”

“Not joining up then,” I said. “Why the change of heart?”

“Oh please,” he said, “don’t you read the papers?”

“As a last resort.”

“Haven’t you seen what they did to that poor POW?”

“Who? Us or the Taliban?”

“Oh your species. At least the Taliban only tortured him. Now you are threatening his family as well.”

“So you are not enlisting?”

“Are you serious? A person would have to be out of his mind to join your military.”

“I see. So what is next?”

“I’m going to law school.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m going to be a lawyer.”

“And represent soldiers who get captured by the enemy?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m going to represent churches.”

“Churches?”

“Of course.”

“What churches? Baptist, Methodist, Catholic?”

“Oh hell no. I’ll serve the new ones.”

“What new ones?”

“The new ones that will spring up everywhere after your Paramount Court ruling.”

“And what Supreme Court ruling was that?”

“Oh, it hasn’t happened yet, but it will. Haven’t you heard of Hobby Lobby vs. Sibelius?”

“Seems I have, but enlighten me anyway.”

“That’s the ruling that will say people can decide what laws they will obey and what laws they won’t, based on what their church teaches.”

“Uh, I don’t think it is that simple. Besides, the court may rule the other way.”

“Oh please,” he said, beginning—no, continuing—to annoy me. “they won’t pass up this chance, way too juicy.”

He had a point. He continued. “So we will need new churches with new beliefs and a good lawyer.”

“And,” I said, “assuming, and this is a big assumption, that the ruling goes your way, where do you intend to concentrate?”

Another child on her way to salvation. - C.W.
“I think I’ll start with child abuse. We’ll form a church that knows how to keep kids in line through scriptural teaching.”

“And that is?”

“Folly is bound up inthe heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him. That’s from your Book of Proverbs. Just try punishing a parent who adopts that biblical injunction. I’ll be right there.”

“With the church members right behind you.”

“Of course. Now the approach of Exodus may represent a bigger legal challenge. But I think I’ll be up for it.”

“And that one is?”


“You know you are crazy, don’t you?”

“Oh please. I’m not the one who is crazy. It’s your species.”

He had me there. “I’ve got to go,” I said.

“Go where?”

“To decide between Costa Rica or Nicaragua.”

“Wait,” he said. “I need you to help me design my Church of the Big Pal.”

“And what religious tenant will it feature?”

“Their preachers and their young folks sharing sleepovers.”
 
 
If you click an ad, it will help pay my way through law school. - C.W.
Also check out www.wattensawpress.com
 

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Confusion

Dear Friends and Followers:

Big Dope is making me read the daily news and report on it. He says it will help me understand the nature of your species. So far it has had the opposite effect. I am, as is often the case with Americans, unable to think clearly or bewildered. (Editor's note: he means "confused"). Please help if you can.  I have to use his computer and the jerk is coming back in a short while to check on my progress.

Does anyone have the stats on how many of the pundits who are apoplectic over the prisoner exchange currently dominating the news ever served in the military? I have identified Senator John McCain but he was for prisoner exchanges ere he was against them. Are there others?

What if, after reasoned investigation, the worst case is the young man in the news wandered off his post and colluded with the enemy?  He will likely suffer the consequences. Gosh, I found where George W. Bush wandered off his post in the Air National Guard and he wasn’t even in a war zone. Your Supreme Court later elected him President.

Your President Ronald Reagan (illegally it seems) colluded to sell weapons to Iran for funds to (illegally) fund a little private war of his in South America. I sense that some of you would make him a saint.

Is there any American less qualified
 to preach morals to you? - C.W.
Perhaps what your species needs is an “Equal Apoplexy Law,” i.e. what’s unfair for the goose is unfair for the gander, somewhat like Mrs. Big Dope often says.

Oh yes, one of the apoplectics is a man named Oliver North. He did serve in the military but seems to have disgraced it forever by facilitating the aforementioned Iran-Contra arms deal, so he would not seem to count.
 
I saw a comment on Big Dope’s Facebook page the other day where a citizen said he would always vote for a veteran. Perhaps he never heard of Colonel North and the faint smell of sulphur that is said to surround him. I suspect that smell is quite strong in Washington D.C. at present.

Any help would be appreciated.
 

Oh, and clicking on an ad will help me buy my own computer.

Also check out www.wattensawpress.com

Sunday, June 1, 2014

203. Religion

Sometimes I don’t know if C.W. is knowingly joshing me, or if his Retentive Analytic Transcriber—his RAT—has taken a flight of fancy. Today, I think he was somewhere between jokester and political analyst. He was shaped close enough to Glenn Beck as to be institutionalized and we were having, what I thought was, a serious conversation.

“So,” he said, “I think your species has what you earthlings call a “deep romantic or sexual attachment/intentional intense dislike” relationship with science.”

“We seem to have a “love/hate” relationship with many things,” I said.

“With science it is strange,” he said. “You love to take your antibiotics, even for viruses.” He stopped and shook his head sadly. “But the facts of natural selection cause you to feel uncomfortable. That is unique in the Galaxy. Don’t your schools teach the relationship between medicine and evolution, as you call it?”

“I’m not sure how much longer we will teach science in our schools,” I said. This made me feel nauseated so I moved the subject a few points to windward. “What about our obsession with religion?”

That’s when he went into his act. Here it is verbatim, with apologies to Judge Noah S. "Soggy" Sweat, Jr.

“If, when you say religion you mean the evil institution, the hateful scourge, the bloody fiend that contaminates the innocent mind, dethrones reason, destroys cities, creates misery and hegemony, yea, flies airplanes into buildings, and traumatizes young children with the image of a loving spirit figure who has a fiery pit awaiting them; if you mean the evil concept that topples men and women from the pinnacle of logical, carefree living into the bottomless pit of ignorance, and hatred, and distrust and violence, and despair, that persecutes those whom nature blesses with a unique sexuality, skin color, or gender, then certainly I think your species has a problem—a big problem.

“But, if when you say religion you mean the oil of community life, the philosophic elixir that binds people and nations, the sublime thoughts that are explored when people get together, that puts music in the hearts and laughter on the lips of those gathered, and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean universal charity, if you mean the stimulating contemplation that puts the spring in the old gentleman’s step in his twilight years; if you mean the way of life which enables one to magnify joy and happiness, and to forget, if only for a little while, life’s great tragedies, and heartaches, and sorrows; if you mean that religion that comforts the poor in spirit, exalts the meek, honors the peacemaker and seeks universal righteousness through good will, mercy, and purity in heart, the goodness of which provides tender care for our sick children, our blind, our deaf, our pitiful, aged, infirm; and least of those among us, I think your spirituality train would be on the right track.”

Please tell me more about this kindly old man
who runs the fiery pits of Hell. - C.W.
I nodded.

“But,” he continued before I could speak, “it does seem to me that the train has veered off course of late, and a debilitating indifference has allowed it to happen.”

Out of the mouths of aliens.

“Now,” he said, “let us go and see what Kate Middleton is wearing today.”




Be sure and click an ad or two so Big Dope can pay the rent. - C.W.

Also visit www.wattensawpress.com