Tag Archives: satire

Breaking News!

25 Jul

Breaking News!

Five historical (hysterical?) headlines, delivered à la ABC News Anchor great, David Muir, posing intently before the camera, wondering what did he know, and when did he know it? Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite and Charles Kuralt,  rolling in their graves, eating their hearts.

Athens – 490 BC. Running to tell Athenians of the great victory over the Persians at Marathon. Traveling more than 26 miles full out. Pheidippides, uttering “Joy to you, we’ve won!” Falling, dying exhausted. “We should commemorate this day,” suggests Greek statesman. Looking back, historians wondering, What did he know, and when did he know it?

Wittenberg Castle – 31 October 1517. Nailing list of ninety-five shades of gray areas re the Catholic Church. Calling for the Pope to use his own money to build cathedrals rather than tax the poor. According to cousin Lex, idea for protest comes to Martin while sitting on the chamber pot. The Pope, dismissing the list as a “passing fancy.” Parishioners wondering about The Pope –– What did he know, and when did he know it?

Montana Territory – 25, 26 June 1876. Leading a battalion of 700, General George Custer, feeling confident. Crazy Horse and others, lying in wait sneakily, ambushing good American soldiers. More than 260 dying, including Custer. Boston hairdresser, mourning the loss of his favorite client, saying, “He was larger than life!” Grant, wondering “What did he know, and when did he know it?”

Pearl Harbor – 7 June 1941. Japanese air attack surprising US Naval ships on an early Sunday morning. Sinking ships under exploding Japanese torpedoes. Addressing the nation by radio, FDR, branding the attack “infamous.” Declaring war on Japan. What did he know, and when did he know it?

The Moon – 20 July, 1969. Landing the lunar module Eagle at 20:18 UTC. Stepping onto the surface, Neil Armstrong, commenting something about his small feet. Joining him later, Buzz Aldrin, remarking “Wonder how far I could hit a golf ball up here?” Congratulating the Apollo astronauts, Nixon, talking via the mystery of satellite. What did he know, and when did he know it?

 

 

 

Advertisements

The Lonely King

27 Jan

image

 

In 1685, King Louis XIV of France revoked the Edict of Nantes with the Edict of Fontainebleau. The Edict of Nantes provided certain religious and economic freedoms to the Huguenots, French protestants. With the revocation, Louis came down hard on Huguenots, demanding they recant their religion and convert to Catholicism, or else. The or else included loss of property, imprisonment for males, seclusion in convents for the women, torture and a variety of types of execution, including beheading and burning at the stake.

Numbers are debatable, but between 200,000 and 250,000 Huguenots fled France, many crossing the Atlantic to resettle in America. Charles Towne in now South Carolina was one of those destinations. Those who left represented about one percent of the population of France.

Two similarities strike me from that day and age to the present: the “ramrodding” of power by Louis, and the Huguenot diaspora, which included some of the most intelligent and creative French of the day.

A friend, considering (however seriously) leaving the US for places less antagonistic, got me to thinking. The poem below is the result of that cogitation (I apologize in advance for its poor literary quality):

 

The Lonely King

by Yours Truly

 

There was once a king
Who sat on his throne
Surveying his great and vast kingdom.
From the East to the West
To the ends of the earth
His realm could be equaled by none.

“Jester!” said he
To a motley-dressed clown
“Bring my fiddlers — I’m bored and want sound!”
But the clown,
With a frown, said
“Your fiddlers aren’t here,
Sire, they all have left town
And there’s no more sweet sound
To be found all around.”

“Left town? The lot of them?”

“Yes, Sire. The lot of them, sad to say,
Have amscrayed this place
Which is why there’s no music
To call for, Your Grace.”

“Why would they go and leave me alone?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said the clown to the king on his throne.

“Then bring me my choir, and bid them to sing!”

“Your Worshipful, that, alas, too, is a shame,
For all of your choristers — sopranos to altos,
Tenors to basses —
Have left your vast kingdom for far away places
So remote that some don’t even have names.”

“And my servants and wise men?”

“Please don’t despise them,
But they’ve all left the kingdom as well.”

“But WHY then? Why have they left me here all alone?
To mourn and to moan all alone on my throne?”

“But I am still here!” said the motley-dressed jester,
“And I’ll entertain you so your sadness won’t fester,
And agree with your wisdom and all your decrees
And serve you while groveling down on my knees!
There’s nobody else you need, if you please,
But motley-dressed, dancing clown, silly old me!”

The king sighed a sigh, and nodded,”You’re right.
Those silly old fiddlers, those out-of-tune singers,
Those supposedly-wise wise men,
Those fat, needy people, all stupid and lazy —
Why together they drove this king crazy all day and all night!

“I’m far better off here alone and without them!
Here on my throne with my kingdom about me.

“Who needs all that so-called music? Who needs the riff-raff?
I’m far better off alone on my throne
with my beautiful hand-carved elephant tusk staff
To decree my decrees with a sneer and a laugh.”

To wit, he said, to the clown kneeling there,

“Get me my quill and my parchment post-haste.
I’ve a decree to declare — why there’s no time to waste!”

And he whiled the days on his throne all alone,
(The exception, of course, was his true, loyal clown)
And made his decrees which the clown did declare
To the large empty kingdom, with pomp and with flair.

Disclaimer:
Any similarities between the King and any person living in the District of Columbia on Pennsylvania Avenue are purely, most sincerely, absolutely coincidental. And that’s the purely, most sincerely absolutely alternative Truth!

***

Another entertainer backs out of Trump inaugural events

15 Jan

image

 

 

Freddy Frog, who had announced he would emcee the entertainment line-up for the Trump Inaugural Ball, has announced that pressure from his fans has forced him out of the frying pan and into the firestorm of anti-Trump sentiment that has seen multiple entertainers re-think participating in the event.

“I was hopping — I mean — hoping that I could bring some kind of healing to the amphibians,” he said. But in light of Trump’s twitters about the species, pressure brought to bear resulted in his backing away from his commitment.

“He’s a lousy chicken,” Trump responded in an angry-orange tweet.

His spokesperson said the President-elect meant to say Freddy Frog “tastes like chicken,” an even more demeaning aspersion.

As he was unaware of the growing political heat of his situation, some projected that Frog’s goose would soon be cooked, which offended the geese, who are in the process of gaggling together to protest in Washington.

“HONK Trump!” Blasted one goose whose gander dander was decidedly up. “He’s the guy who stole the golden eggs, and he has never been brought to justice!”

Frog, whose fame comes despite his inability to perform (that’s what SHE said) once the curtain comes up, wistfully made his return to his luxurious lily pad on the Upper East Side along the East River of NYC.

“It’s sad,” he commented. “But it’s better than having your career croaked by the industry.”

On the Kentucky Derby

2 May

I don’t know if you watched the 141st running of the Kentucky Derby. I did. I mean … the hype! While I watched my writer’s brain kept churning, and I couldn’t help writing the following. In the face of what’s been going on in Baltimore and the rest of the country/world, this side-step into a world totally removed from reality caught my attention. Tell me what you think.

Groups Complain About the 141st Running of the Kentucky Derby:

Strange bedfellows of extreme groups gathered after the 141st running of the Kentucky Derby today to voice complaints regarding the annual event.

1. The Association of Sexual Satisfaction (ASS) complained that compared to the build-up of more than two hours on national television, the actual time of the race was 2:03.02 (two minutes, three point oh two seconds) — which left most viewers unfulfilled and wanting more, only to be exasperated by less-than-satisfying post-race interviews and reruns.

2. The American Tea Party as well as the American Libertarian Party were incensed by the fact that of the 20 jockeys originally scheduled to ride in the event (one was scratched), only two — Gary Stevens (Firing Line) and Mike Smith (Far Right — on whom the Tea party placed a $250,000 bet) — had what the party termed “Amerkin names.” “We would like to see the documentation of all other jockeys to make sure they are in the Nited States under proper papers,” said a spokesman from the group.

3. Westboro Baptist Church, who condemns all who participate in horse racing to hell, further complained about the winning entry’s name. “By God, this is an American institution — and the winner was a goddamn foreigner with a horse named American Pharoah! This country is NOT a dictatorship, but under the rule of GAWD! Pharoah got his ass whipped once, and we cannot condone a horse named Pharoah winning in a Southern American tradition!”

The group called for the immediate dispatching of the horse, jockey and owner.

4. The NAACP complained that the event is “Lily White!” and uses references to slavery in the singing of “My Old Kentucky Home” as well as the tradition of women wearing hats and gowns that reflect an era of black American repression. The Reverend Al Sharpton has called for a march next week of three laps around the Churchill Downs racetrack followed by a fund-raising event with Hollywood notaries that will feature Mint Juleps and shrimp cocktail.

This is satire, of course, and not at all true — at the moment.

God’s Political Affiliation

24 Oct

Okay — let’s get this election controversy settled once and for all. Here’s a ballot regarding God’s Political Affiliation.

Those of you who care about the election results will reblog this. As with all other heart-rending pleas to reblog something, only about 3 percent of you will reblog it (and, yes, I can guess who you are).

Let those of you who know for sure, cast the first vote and reblog.

 

God's Political Affiliation

God’s Political Affiliation