The Savage Throws of Anarchy

Paul W. Michel, Jr.

Take-home midterm

History 3051

U.S. Electoral Politics 2008-Present

Instructor: Professor Sarah Palin, Ph.D.

University of Alaska, Nome Beach

October 19, 2046

The Fabulous Election of 2016

The election year started with “Democrats” debating “principles” and “ideas”, while the real men on the other side of the aisle had a debate of penile proportions. There was “Little Marco”, “Ted Cruzerweight” and one spectacular entry, “Big Little”.  The latter was a compelling ten centimeters of massive manliness, ingeniously managed by real estate and television star Baron Yonald Von Scheibe Fub.  He managed his manliness with a system utilizing an air hoist to get “Big Little” up.

The Democratic Party’s historic response to a knife fight was to bring a knife, so the party’s natural response to a pencil contest was neither the famous wife of a president, nor the popular pinko-commie, but the former governor of Maryland, whose name I can’t recall.

The Republican National Committee, after 183 ballots, selected a nostalgia ticket of Spiro Agnew III and Tailgunner Joseph McCarthy Thurmond, but purposely thumbed its nose at the popular business man, who had clearly won a plurality of delegates. 

However; not to be denied, Scheibe Fub shocked the nation  (without a raincoat) by forming a third party candidacy; however, there was a second third party candidacy (or a first fourth party candidacy) of a man said to be identical to William Jennings Bryan in common appeal and geezer-eccentricity.

People naturally gravitated toward, but ultimately rejected the everyman benefits of populist Bernie Sanders O’Time (the first Jewish-Irish candidate for president).  Instead they rallied to the national power campaign of Scheibe Fub, who was the leader the country yearned for after eight dark years and the untold suffering of countless Southern Senators and other KKK sympathizers.  Here was a leader who saved the nation from the savage throws of anarchy, which in actuality became the hit TV show by the same name. 

 

In “Savage Throws of Anarchy” contestants pitted themselves in the ring against a couple of nasty bitches with ten million dollars in cash at stake.  Scheibe Fub’s first and second first ex-wives, Firstdiggsgold and Paymelots Maypoles fought nasty and dirty for the money, but you did too if you intended to walk away with twelve million dollars (after a negative 20% tax on the job creators). 

Anyway, back to the ’16 election.  Scheibe Fub became the first third party candidate to win the presidency.  He placed third in the Electoral College and fourth in the popular vote; however, no candidate was able to win a majority of electoral votes and the choice was kicked to the House of Reprehensibles. 

Despite Sanders O’Time’s lead in the Electoral College and the popular vote, the members of the House were clearly spooked by the idea of a crankatarian socialist in the White House.  That guy from Maryland (Martin something) received the second most electoral and popular votes, but sadly the electors couldn’t remember his name and selected Scheibe Fub. 

Scheibe Fub brought with him his beautiful third wife, Shedigisgold, who was bought from the slave market of Shesyungertantjirty where she was forced to pose nude, snort cocaine and dance for horny old men of 55+.  He also brought his son, Yonald Scheibe Fub, Jr., and his daughter Firstdiggsgoldvanka Scheibe Fub-Scheibe Fub, who were his Secretary of State and his Secretary of Lotteries and Casinos, respectively.

Firstdiggsgoldvanka authored and secured passage of legislation legalizing casinos in every city in the country and every truckstop between the Atlantic and Pacific and Canada and Mexico. Scheibe Fub, Jr., became the most famous Secretary of State ever because of his revolutionary statesmanship.  Yonald, Jr. put aside factions in favor of television diplomacy. 

Junior became the host and producer of such television classics as "Survivor:  West Bank" and "NATO:  North Atlantic Treaty Operation", the show that airdrops competing teams into the third world who race to overthrow governments for cash and prizes.  And there was the old favorite "Who Wants to Win a Missile System?" 

Scheibe Fub, Sr. became the architect of domestic policy and was true to his campaign promise and built a wall along the Mexico border. Mexicans were utilized to the extent that their skills were needed (i.e. they worked on the wall); although when the particular worker’s job ended it posed quite a quandary.  Scheibe Fub brilliantly solved this by simply catapulting the worker back to Mexico when he was no longer needed.   

People at first thought the national parks policy was part genius and part accident.  The Secretary of the Interior, Older Wider Lackey was wrongly thought to be a broken man, whose boisterous denunciations changed to unabashed cheering.   He began to remedy the national parks' dwindling budgets by allowing concessionaires greater access.  People had to pay a little less to get in and they found they could enjoy a Grand Slam breakfat of pancakes, eggs and bacon while they watched Old Faithful spout off.  Or they could happily patronize the drive through of In-and-Out burger while enjoying the grandeur of The Grand Canyon.

The only conclusion regarding this election thirty years ago can be, Scheibe Fub promised “It’s gonna be great.” And it was! 

© Paul W. Michel

Will The Big Tent Be Big Enough For Me?

I have had some moments of reflection on my political choices and the most memorable one was when I moved to Parker and I updated my driver's license and also registered to vote.  And some may be SHOCKED and appalled that I actually registered to vote as an Independent.  The reason I think had less to do with the fact that some Democrats had let me down in supporting foolhardy endeavors like the Iraq war and the war in Afghanistan and more to do with the fact that I think I was tired and I just wanted to be Switzerland for a while and not campaign for anybody and not put my heart on the line and not have it run over by the cheat'n machine (if you don't know who I'm talking about you don't know me or you are a naive fool).

So my neutrality lasted all of about six months as the 2004 primary rolled around (this was when Colorado ate at the big boy table for a while and actually had a primary) and I had a great plan to register Republican at the primary and vote against Pete Coors.  He was the man who most certainly had a can of his own product in his hand at any time he might be driving.  This is my version of the mud slinging dirty-pool playing mean guy.  Anyway, what happened when I went to vote in the

westword.com Oct. 28, 2014 

Republican primary so I could vote against Peter Coors was that after dry heaving next to the voter registration, I collected myself and voted in the Democratic primary and after that six months or so in the wilderness, I am proud to say I have never strayed off the Democratic affiliation.    

Wikipedia.com

Then during the fall I did some volunteering for Mr.  Heinz pickle himself (remember how he threw his ribbons away and kept his medals?), John Kerry, and I had a fateful dream that Mr. Kerry won the election and we were going to be done with this national nightmare called George W. Bush.  Well, it didn't turn out like that, unless Quantum Leaper Sam Beckett ends up leaping to 2004, or better yet 2000, or if he's really going to un-

fuck us up, he should quantum leap to 1980.  Then he keeps the Reagan campaign from meddling in the hostage crisis, the hostages come home, people vote for Carter and Reagan ends up an answer to a trivia question about who was the actor who ran for president and lost.

Anyway, it's looking like the big tent party is really hosting a three ring circus and sometimes I think

New York Daily News

perhaps I should change my affiliation again and get in on the fun.  I think I could go in there and totally brain fuck all those Republicans and get them to vote for Kasich.  You say Kasich?  I don't know who that guy is.  He's not blustery and he's not braggadocios and he doesn't have a big Tea affiliation.  He actually actually the only grown up who hasn't donned the clown paint.

He is governor of Ohio (you remember that state that is must see TV for anybody who thinks he's going to be president), he was in congress and he was the chairman of the House Budget Committee (back when the radicals weren't in charge...oh.  You say he was a radical?  Oh, yeah he was one of the people who signed the contract on America.  Remember that one?  I think that's what Pat Schroeder called it (she was really hated by some Republicans in  her day).

(Nate Beeler)

 

Drifting Away From Politics

We are fast approaching the beginning of the annual global rejuvenation.  I am not talking about the spring flowers, but the spring free agents and specifically what I am looking at for the Broncos.

The Broncos foremost task will be to resign Brock (formerly Bonk-but he's earned the shedding of that nickname) Osweiler, but he will be an unrestricted free agent and if he has bitter feelings about being benched in favor of Payton Manning in the playoffs, well, he may be pissed enough at the coaching staff to go elsewhere, but I doubt it.  Manning must start in the playoffs if he's healthy, especially if he can play under center and run the play-action passing game.

I don't expect Brock to go elsewhere, but if he does I am looking at acquiring RGIII, who probably has worn out his welcome in Washington.  RGIII still most likely has what it takes to be a great quarterback in this league, but he needs to be idiot proof (I'm talking to you, Gruden).  I think Kubiak can be that non-idiot in Griffin's future.  As a side note; however, assign Griffin the jersey #13.  Number ten is snakebitten ever since that infamous #10 Steve Ramsey (who was courageous in his ability to stick on an NFL roster for six years when he probably was a 3rd teamer at best). What ever the case may be, we probably will need a game experienced backup quarterback.   Michael Vick may be that game experience backup the Broncos will need, if they can get past the stink of Vick's past off-field shame.  If not, pick Matt Cassel if he's available.  I don't envision Cassel as having any pretenses at a starter at this point in his career, but I think he's a game proven backup that could come in in an emergency and save a season by picking up enough wins to keep the team in contention while the starter mends.

At running back, the task at hand is to sign C.J. Anderson to a contract extension.  That goes double for Ronnie Hillman.  Both of these guys probably have visions of sugarplums in the form of money and a starting role, so hopefully they would trade some money and some status for the hope of winning a ring.   Fullbacks are like dinosaurs in this league, but i'm convinced they are necessary for Kubiak's offense, so we need two good ones.  I'm not well versed on who the top full backs will be yet.

At WR, resign Bennie Fowler.  That's the only one who matters.  He catches balls and should not be allowed to leave.  Another priority resign is Andre Caldwell.  He catches balls too.

I guess we'll figure out the rest later.

The Argument For Unfettered Gun Rights

The Argument For Unfettered Gun Rights

In the U.S. right now we have an irritating rule of law that just flies in the face of our want and desire to defend our personal sovereignty down to the definition of the word “is” and the phrase “assault rifle” and we must be vigilant against anybody who says anything we don’t like, which means of course the fedora goberment, stupid.  Thus, we should have minute men armed with personal grenade launchers and assault, I mean semi-automatic riles and tanks if we can afford one to be able to seize any federal building we like. 

Now, I can hear  you saying “Paul, there is such thing as majority rule and the minority must go along with the majority, even on gun laws.  And no one may take the law into his own hands.  I say the judiciary has the right to rule the legislature unconstitutional and thus, as the Supreme Court of One, I may use my personal legal education (as provided by Google, as in Google it if you don’t believe me) to find the fedora goberment in contempt (of me).  

Thus, we have the full legal right to make a sneak attack on an uninhabited federal office in button-fork, OR and demand full restitution of our right to pollute the people’s land, carry loaded weapons in public (excepting black people, even to carry toy guns), ride at the front of the bus and all sorts of other shit, because Lincoln said so, and if he didn’t Washington did.  Just google it if you don’t believe me.  

And it is our right to not only continue holding our little bastion of personal liberty in the forrest (which may sound like the right to take a leak outside, but it’s actually more), but to have the principle of one man, one gun, I mean many guns, and tanks and nuclear air craft carriers, if we so desire.  And by the way, we ordered Dominos, so let the pizza delivery man pass under a flag of truce.  

Thus let it be known today that the Declaration of Independence, the Gary, Indiana Statement of Personal (gun) Liberty and and Indira Gandhi give us the inalienable right to gun-**** anybody we don’t like when we want to and how we want to.  

And Jesus loves me, yes I know.  

The Biblical New Years Story

People haven’t been dissing the J-man like this for nearly 2000 years.  It was just after Christmas in the year 0000 and when Mary was just getting back into the routine and getting used to the three AM feedings and Joseph was looking forward to relaxing and watching a few good New Years Day bowl games when word came down from heaven that Heroud had sent some terminators down from Jerusalem to put a hit on the baby Jesus.  

The terminators were those called the sling-blade mafia.  And Thus the terminators were of the ungodly sort that would lie with their own kind. 

Joseph was to get his ass in gear and hightail it down to Egypt before the baby killers caught up with them and caused the baby Jesus to melt them with his killer laser eyeballs.  

So despite the fact that Troy was playing Sparta that New Years day in the Jerusalem Bowl, Mary went out to the grocery and stocked up on plenty of Pampers and Gerber Savior food and Joseph loaded up the ass with lots of blankets, cheese puffs, flat bread and cold cuts along with a portable radio and his lap-top (so he could make sure he kept posting  pictures of baby J on Face Scroll).  And they headed down to Cairo and looked forward to seeing American Pharaoh and  Chariots of the Gods playing down at the Rialto.  

To pass the time on the Interstate camel trail, they played a game of Mad Libs.  

Sometimes our best laid plans are laid to waste because right as they left Nazareth,  assassins crossed their paths and caused Joseph to exclaim, “…and we were making good time!”

Well, these people were intent on putting an end to the baby Jesus right then and there and they had no qualms about ruining the Christmas shopping seasons from then until eternity, but fate had other plans.  

One of the killers was sent from Haroud and was named Wayne Lapierrieroulous.  He was the bad guy with a sling the angels had been warning Joseph about.  In fact it was the archangel Michael who said “The only thing that will stop a bad guy with a sling is a good guy with a sling.”  Of course, Joseph was a believer in non-violence and he had faith a higher power would see them safely to Egypt; and, he had enjoyed some local players in a weekly series called “Kung Fu”.   In this series, a Shoulin Monk who had come to Israel often met those who were hateful and bigoted.  They would always resort to violence but Kung Fu would kick the shit out of them using karate.  

So if Lapierrieroulous tried snuffing out poor baby Jesus for a reward, Joseph was prepared.  He did not need a loaded sling near by.  In all actuality, many studies done by Rome determined slings in the home were 80% more likely to be used on a loved one or on one’s self, although Joseph thought only an Assyrian would be stupid enough to shoot himself with his own sling.  But Joseph believed in playing the odds and he also knew that should some evil-doers come their way, he would prevail.  He hadn’t been working out at Goldstein's Gym for nothing.  

And Mary was never one to suffer the ungodly and was rumored to have shouted, “Push me, bitch I’m on edge.   Push me , I’ll lose my head.  Looketh mine thunder. Fucketh mine,  thoust six feet undereth.”

Still, Wayne Lapierrieroulous never was one to miss a chance to fuck around with Jesus so he cocked his sling back and was about to let loose a high hard one to Jesus’ temple when Joseph just lookethed.  But Lapierreerlous had let lose the stone cold and it was flying through the air threatening Joseph’s baby.  Joseph jumped up and caught the rock in mid air and then as he came down he rabbit punched Lapierreerlous in his tiny balls, and they spilled onto to the ground as he cried like a baby.  

“Joseph, thy hast cracked my nuts!”  Lapierreerlous wailed.  

“Thy shouldn’t’sst fuck with Jesus.”  Joseph retorted.  “We knoweth thoust true colors, thy serpent of a jackal’s butt.” 

It was then when the ground opened up and a demon climbed out of the depths of the earth.  

Lapierrerlous turned to him and shouted, “Thou art a demographically significant demon, B. Hu-satan Obama!”

And B. Hu-satan Obama replied, “Jesus hath a friend in me and I smiteth thee.”  And just as he had uttered the words and they hung in the air like a cartoon balloon, a thunder was heard coming from the sky.  

Lapierrerlous looked up and witnessed a great bird.  And suddenly a hissing came from that giant bird like as if it were carrying a serpent in its belly.  And low and behold the bird  launched the snake at  Lapierrerlous and he was engulfed in fire.  

“Thou hast hadth thine ass barbecued,” B. Hu-satan Obama quipped.  

It was then that an angel came to bring a message to Joseph.  

Back in the land of Judea, there was a regime change.  Heroud had been deposed by an older man from the future of most liberal views and he instituted a policy of sling control all throughout the land.   And that man’s name was Bernicus Sanders of Times.  

He prayed to the gods and they answered by sending a friendly terminator back through the eons of time.  The terminator, called Picard de Borgus drove throughout the land on his iron horse   and hunted the sling-blade mafia. 

But the people shouted “Thous pry mine sling from mine coldest deadest hands” so when their new leader Jim-Jonesacus willed that they drink the kook-aid and they all died and went to a place

they thought was heaven.

Alternate Universities and Small Institution Syndrome

 

   I have long since believed that there are alternate universes where I am rich and successful.  But that idea also makes me ask “why the hell couldn’t I be rich and successful in my universe?  And also, I don’t remember if I thought about alternate universes being in books before I read about the idea in fiction, but I just finished a book called Ashley Bell by Dean Koontz that deals with this idea and is about a young writer of about 22 who gets brain cancer and then determines she will be better and wakes up the next day feeling great and realizing that the brain cancer is gone.  Her parents hire a sort of seer who performs “scrabblemancy”, a sort of communication with the spirt world using scrabble letters to form words that are answers to questions posed to the spirits, and it turns out she has been saved in order that she might save the life of a young girl, Ashley Bell.  All this went on in an alternate universe and in this one she was comatose dying of cancer.  

Another thing I have been considering is the small college complex.   Some people have and idea what a university’s compensation committee is all about.  As far as I can tell, it helps decide if the college a  problem with a too small organ structure, and if so, how to compensate for it.   An institution that got along for forty or fifty years as a college suddenly feels the need to be a university.  The University of Compensating for Something Too Small, or UCSTS.  

I’d like to also mention that UCSTS has a basketball team and were hoping once the NCAA expands the Division I tournament to 128 teams that we might get our invitation, which will be celebrated like we won (because let’s not kid ourselves, Duke will shred us with their 3rd team).  If we can’t get in the basketball tournament, there’s always a sport with fewer teams to compete with.  I guess lawn bowling would be a good sport or perhaps ladies field hockey.

Now it’s time to tie in alternate universes and universities.  For every university out there there is an alternate university that is strikingly similar, but with some eerie difference.   It’s creepy looking at your mirror image. Think of Stanford University.   Stanford's mirror image university is the University of Colorado.  Stanford is private.  CU is public.   Stanford is a highly regarded university that has put leaders in all facets of life and is well respected across the country. CU is also well respected and has placed leaders throughout the nation.   Stanford is great in football.  CU sucks ass in football.  That’s fuck’n scary looking at that school.  Going from Stanford to Colorado would be like Star Trek’s Captain Kirk beamed up to the Enterprise and he found The Federation had it’s ass handed to them year and year out by the Klingons.  Or it would be like if Captain Picard beamed up to a place where people were greedy and got off having their ears massaged.  In other words, Las Vegas.  If you don't get it, just know it's a Trekie thing.  

'Tis The Season

There are many clichés to choose from, really.  So, if those ones I suggested don't exactly fit, choose  your own.  

It doesn't matter who you vote for, just vote.

The one with the best hair wins.  

The inmates are running the asylum.  

If you think it's butter but it's not, it's a Trump!  

Republicans tap, tap, tap their feet the beat.  

Democrats dare you to follow them and complain when you do.  

Should-be bumper stickers: