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Friday, October 18, 2013
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Obamacare Wars for Kindle
The Obamacare Wars will be available for Kindle at Amazon.com for $2.99.
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Want a free copy? Leave a comment/review and I'll send you one... Thanks.
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Want a free copy? Leave a comment/review and I'll send you one... Thanks.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
The Obamacare Wars: Epilogue
Leave a substantive comment and I will send you a copy of the complete story... Thanks for reading.
July 30, 2213. 10 AM Northern Time. BGBC Holovision Studio. New Freedom, Ellesmere Island.
“Sven and Karl here. This has been a magnificent voyage of discovery. These tapes have given us a glimpse into a period of the past that has long been shrouded in mystery. But it raises a lot of questions. Why was it that these Republicans were so intent on bringing down the country over the issue of Universal Health Care? And why, when there were so many other greater threats to economic stability and even the survival of the planet, was Health Care the issue that led so many people into apparent madness?”
“Yes Sven. From our perspective it seems obvious that they should have been dealing with Global Warming, the population explosion, rising sea levels, species loss and transitioning away from fossil fuels which were being ever more rapidly depleted. The global resource wars of the following decades finally brought much of that into some perspective, but by then it was simply too late. Because of the extreme heat and erratic and dangerous weather patterns, most of what was the temperate climate zones are now virtually uninhabitable.
Sven added, “there are many small pockets of primitive society throughout the world, whether in higher altitudes or protected valleys, but these pitiful bands are struggling mightily just to survive in very harsh environments. Clean water is hard to come by. The ground is either contaminated or simply devoid of minerals; a desert. Farming is basically impossible. Most large animals are extinct and plants, particularly edible plants, are increasingly hard to find, based on the limited research we have been able to do. Around the world, these communities number perhaps in the tens of thousands total.
“Here in the United Arctic Communities we number about 10 million and we’ve been in sporadic contact with the Republic of Antarctica, which has about 5-10 million inhabitants. We live pretty well, all things considered, but we were astounded by the opulence and waste that we witnessed on these recordings.”
“Sven, I think we would both like to say that Universal Health Care is very important. Here in the United Arctic Communities, everyone has access to the best health care that is available, including acupuncture, faith healing, and shamans. Though we are not rich in material goods, compared with some of our ancestors, we help each other out. We care for each other. We enjoy life, play music, dance and sing. We gaze at the stars in the winter and enjoy the nearly 24-7-180 hour sunlight in the summer.”
“Karl, don’t forget. Our researchers also uncovered a huge archive of music, literature and art along with these Presidential records. So we will have even more opportunity to get to know our distant relatives the Barackistanis. This is Sven Oberkilter signing off for the Sven and Karl Show. And to add our newest favorite saying, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try some time, you might get what you need.”
“Keep on Rockin in the Free World, Sven my dear friend.”
July 30, 2213. 10 AM Northern Time. BGBC Holovision Studio. New Freedom, Ellesmere Island.
“Sven and Karl here. This has been a magnificent voyage of discovery. These tapes have given us a glimpse into a period of the past that has long been shrouded in mystery. But it raises a lot of questions. Why was it that these Republicans were so intent on bringing down the country over the issue of Universal Health Care? And why, when there were so many other greater threats to economic stability and even the survival of the planet, was Health Care the issue that led so many people into apparent madness?”
“Yes Sven. From our perspective it seems obvious that they should have been dealing with Global Warming, the population explosion, rising sea levels, species loss and transitioning away from fossil fuels which were being ever more rapidly depleted. The global resource wars of the following decades finally brought much of that into some perspective, but by then it was simply too late. Because of the extreme heat and erratic and dangerous weather patterns, most of what was the temperate climate zones are now virtually uninhabitable.
Sven added, “there are many small pockets of primitive society throughout the world, whether in higher altitudes or protected valleys, but these pitiful bands are struggling mightily just to survive in very harsh environments. Clean water is hard to come by. The ground is either contaminated or simply devoid of minerals; a desert. Farming is basically impossible. Most large animals are extinct and plants, particularly edible plants, are increasingly hard to find, based on the limited research we have been able to do. Around the world, these communities number perhaps in the tens of thousands total.
“Here in the United Arctic Communities we number about 10 million and we’ve been in sporadic contact with the Republic of Antarctica, which has about 5-10 million inhabitants. We live pretty well, all things considered, but we were astounded by the opulence and waste that we witnessed on these recordings.”
“Sven, I think we would both like to say that Universal Health Care is very important. Here in the United Arctic Communities, everyone has access to the best health care that is available, including acupuncture, faith healing, and shamans. Though we are not rich in material goods, compared with some of our ancestors, we help each other out. We care for each other. We enjoy life, play music, dance and sing. We gaze at the stars in the winter and enjoy the nearly 24-7-180 hour sunlight in the summer.”
“Karl, don’t forget. Our researchers also uncovered a huge archive of music, literature and art along with these Presidential records. So we will have even more opportunity to get to know our distant relatives the Barackistanis. This is Sven Oberkilter signing off for the Sven and Karl Show. And to add our newest favorite saying, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try some time, you might get what you need.”
“Keep on Rockin in the Free World, Sven my dear friend.”
The Obamacare Wars Part 9
Leave a comment and I will send you a copy of the complete story... Thanks for reading.
Monday, Feb 3, 2014. 10 AM EST. The White House.
“This is Brian Williams with NBC News. The President is about to make a brief announcement.”
President Obama stepped up to the microphone and smiled at the camera. “My fellow Americans. Yesterday, we witnessed the Democratic process inaction. Senator Cruz, though somewhat bloodied and humiliated before an audience that numbered in the hundreds of millions around the globe, survived his brush with death. And therefore, according to our laws and traditions that have been passed down to us since Roman times, we affirm that the Senator will live to fight another day.
“After getting a good hosing down, he was put on a plane to join his Republican House and Senate Comrades at the Guantanamo Resort, where he will enjoy a little R&R before being readmitted to civilian life. Thank you and good day.”
The president waved to the Camera and smiled again, then turned and walked away.
Sunday, February 16, 2014. 7 PM EST. Steve Kroft Interviews President Obama on 60 Minutes.
“Mr. President. It’s great to be back here interviewing you.”
“Steve. It is such a pleasure to have you here again. I hope you enjoyed the tomatoes.”
“They were delicious. But can I change the subject?” The President nodded his approval and said, “Fire away Steve.”
“As you know, we and a number of other News organizations have been reviewing your Kenyan Birth Certificate over the last few months, and we’ve come to the almost universal conclusion, Donald Trump and Orly Taitz aside, that it is a forgery, right down to the Made in Taiwan label at the bottom. Do you have anything to say about that Sir?”
“Of course. We were in critical negotiations with Donald Trump to take the White House National Golf Course off his hands and the Donald just would not budge. We had agreed to a price, but he just had this one condition. He had to have my Kenyan Long Form Birth Certificate or the deal was dead. Well, I called my Kenyan relatives in Nairobi to see if there’s anything they could do to help me out. I figured some Witch Doctor or something could conjure something up. But they told me about KenyanBirthCertificates.com. Who knew? I had one of my aides go online, they typed in the appropriate information and bam, we printed it out in less than an hour.”
“But you lied to us, Mr. President. How do you feel about that?”
“Well, we should go back and check the tape. I really don’t think I lied to you, but if I did, it was a little white lie, and since I’m only half white that really doesn’t count at all.”
Steve laughed at the President’s joke and continued, “Well OK. I guess you got me on that one Chief. We’ve also been checking on your Bin Laden scoop. No one has been able or willing to verify that he’s still alive and living in a cave under the Situation Room.”
“Steve, I’d take you down there myself, but he’s very shy about talking to the media. And besides, if I did, I’d have to have you killed. Top Secret National Security stuff. You understand. Any more questions, Steve?”
“No. As always, it’s been a pleasure, Sir.”
Monday, February 17, 2014. 10 AM EST. The White House Briefing Room.
Jay Carney stood at the podium and looked out at the White House Press Corps.
“Slow News day today. You will be pleased to note that last week the House and Senate agreed on a bill to defund the resort at Guantanamo Bay and stop paying for our Republican guests as of February 28th. The Congressional Budget office has estimated that this cost the Government about $1.5 million a week or something like $25 million for the duration. We were able to recover most of that by docking their pay and benefits for the same period, so we consider it money well spent. We would also like to announce that we have made a separate deal with the Hilton Corporation and Donald Trump to open the Guantanamo Bay Hilton Resort and Trump Casino. The transfer will begin on February 28th as well, but the resort will need extensive cleaning and renovations.
“Next week, Bill Clinton will be stepping down as Chief Justice and the Roberts Court will be reconstituted when the Conservative Justices return from their little vacation. They have agreed not to hear any cases related to bills that have been passed the last few months. The Former President will head up a blue ribbon panel of Top Democrats and the top conservative minds, folks such as Bill Kristol and Rich Lowry, to see how the Constitution can be restored and the electoral process restarted without leading to gridlock, budget hostage taking and puerile name calling. The panel will have a three month deadline for coming up with recommendations, so that we can have the 2014 elections on time.
“Ed Henry from Fox News. You get the first question.”
“Jay, since the President’s Kenyan birth certificate has been debunked, does that mean he was an American citizen all along? And why did he try to pass himself off as a Kenyan Muslim socialist?”
“Well, Ed. Donald Trump was adamant that he would only give us the golf course if the President presented him with his Kenyan Birth Certificate. Donald never demanded that the birth certificate had to be valid. The President explained all this on 60 Minutes last night, so I’m not going to repeat him. You can replay it on YouTube if you need more. I do believe that I said that the President was a Muslim and a Socialist, apparently erroneously, but different people see this differently. It’s a gray area. The President has great respect for people of the Muslim faith and has tried to act in accordance with the great wisdom of that tradition whenever it has been advantageous to do so. I think most people, certainly most people who watch Fox News, have no problem with me characterizing him as both a Muslim and a socialist, despite the fact that he also claims to be a Christian and a centrist.”
“Chuck Todd. You are next my brother.”
“It seems like there has also been a great deal of suspicion about Osama Bin Laden and whether he is or isn’t living in a cave under the White House Situation Room. No one has actually seen him or talked to him, despite the President playing golf on occasion with a vaguely Middle Eastern looking skinny 7 foot bearded man. Can you tell us categorically whether he is alive or dead and if not, is he living in the White House?”
“No. It’s classified. Top Secret. My lips are sealed.”
Friday, Feb 28, 2014. Around Sunset. Guantanamo Bay.
The last plane carrying former Republican lawmakers back to Washington taxied down the runway. The sun began to dip down over the horizon and the sunset exploded across the bay; orange and purple streamers floated across the faded blue denim sky. The engines roared and the plane lifted off.
Ted Cruz and Rand Paul stood on the edge of the runway watching the taillights disappear into the night sky. They turned and started walking back to the beach. Cruz reached out and lightly touched Paul on the elbow.
“Rand. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Yes Ted. I think so…” and then added with a chuckle, “We’ll always have Paris, Texas.”
Monday, Feb 3, 2014. 10 AM EST. The White House.
“This is Brian Williams with NBC News. The President is about to make a brief announcement.”
President Obama stepped up to the microphone and smiled at the camera. “My fellow Americans. Yesterday, we witnessed the Democratic process inaction. Senator Cruz, though somewhat bloodied and humiliated before an audience that numbered in the hundreds of millions around the globe, survived his brush with death. And therefore, according to our laws and traditions that have been passed down to us since Roman times, we affirm that the Senator will live to fight another day.
“After getting a good hosing down, he was put on a plane to join his Republican House and Senate Comrades at the Guantanamo Resort, where he will enjoy a little R&R before being readmitted to civilian life. Thank you and good day.”
The president waved to the Camera and smiled again, then turned and walked away.
Sunday, February 16, 2014. 7 PM EST. Steve Kroft Interviews President Obama on 60 Minutes.
“Mr. President. It’s great to be back here interviewing you.”
“Steve. It is such a pleasure to have you here again. I hope you enjoyed the tomatoes.”
“They were delicious. But can I change the subject?” The President nodded his approval and said, “Fire away Steve.”
“As you know, we and a number of other News organizations have been reviewing your Kenyan Birth Certificate over the last few months, and we’ve come to the almost universal conclusion, Donald Trump and Orly Taitz aside, that it is a forgery, right down to the Made in Taiwan label at the bottom. Do you have anything to say about that Sir?”
“Of course. We were in critical negotiations with Donald Trump to take the White House National Golf Course off his hands and the Donald just would not budge. We had agreed to a price, but he just had this one condition. He had to have my Kenyan Long Form Birth Certificate or the deal was dead. Well, I called my Kenyan relatives in Nairobi to see if there’s anything they could do to help me out. I figured some Witch Doctor or something could conjure something up. But they told me about KenyanBirthCertificates.com. Who knew? I had one of my aides go online, they typed in the appropriate information and bam, we printed it out in less than an hour.”
“But you lied to us, Mr. President. How do you feel about that?”
“Well, we should go back and check the tape. I really don’t think I lied to you, but if I did, it was a little white lie, and since I’m only half white that really doesn’t count at all.”
Steve laughed at the President’s joke and continued, “Well OK. I guess you got me on that one Chief. We’ve also been checking on your Bin Laden scoop. No one has been able or willing to verify that he’s still alive and living in a cave under the Situation Room.”
“Steve, I’d take you down there myself, but he’s very shy about talking to the media. And besides, if I did, I’d have to have you killed. Top Secret National Security stuff. You understand. Any more questions, Steve?”
“No. As always, it’s been a pleasure, Sir.”
Monday, February 17, 2014. 10 AM EST. The White House Briefing Room.
Jay Carney stood at the podium and looked out at the White House Press Corps.
“Slow News day today. You will be pleased to note that last week the House and Senate agreed on a bill to defund the resort at Guantanamo Bay and stop paying for our Republican guests as of February 28th. The Congressional Budget office has estimated that this cost the Government about $1.5 million a week or something like $25 million for the duration. We were able to recover most of that by docking their pay and benefits for the same period, so we consider it money well spent. We would also like to announce that we have made a separate deal with the Hilton Corporation and Donald Trump to open the Guantanamo Bay Hilton Resort and Trump Casino. The transfer will begin on February 28th as well, but the resort will need extensive cleaning and renovations.
“Next week, Bill Clinton will be stepping down as Chief Justice and the Roberts Court will be reconstituted when the Conservative Justices return from their little vacation. They have agreed not to hear any cases related to bills that have been passed the last few months. The Former President will head up a blue ribbon panel of Top Democrats and the top conservative minds, folks such as Bill Kristol and Rich Lowry, to see how the Constitution can be restored and the electoral process restarted without leading to gridlock, budget hostage taking and puerile name calling. The panel will have a three month deadline for coming up with recommendations, so that we can have the 2014 elections on time.
“Ed Henry from Fox News. You get the first question.”
“Jay, since the President’s Kenyan birth certificate has been debunked, does that mean he was an American citizen all along? And why did he try to pass himself off as a Kenyan Muslim socialist?”
“Well, Ed. Donald Trump was adamant that he would only give us the golf course if the President presented him with his Kenyan Birth Certificate. Donald never demanded that the birth certificate had to be valid. The President explained all this on 60 Minutes last night, so I’m not going to repeat him. You can replay it on YouTube if you need more. I do believe that I said that the President was a Muslim and a Socialist, apparently erroneously, but different people see this differently. It’s a gray area. The President has great respect for people of the Muslim faith and has tried to act in accordance with the great wisdom of that tradition whenever it has been advantageous to do so. I think most people, certainly most people who watch Fox News, have no problem with me characterizing him as both a Muslim and a socialist, despite the fact that he also claims to be a Christian and a centrist.”
“Chuck Todd. You are next my brother.”
“It seems like there has also been a great deal of suspicion about Osama Bin Laden and whether he is or isn’t living in a cave under the White House Situation Room. No one has actually seen him or talked to him, despite the President playing golf on occasion with a vaguely Middle Eastern looking skinny 7 foot bearded man. Can you tell us categorically whether he is alive or dead and if not, is he living in the White House?”
“No. It’s classified. Top Secret. My lips are sealed.”
Friday, Feb 28, 2014. Around Sunset. Guantanamo Bay.
The last plane carrying former Republican lawmakers back to Washington taxied down the runway. The sun began to dip down over the horizon and the sunset exploded across the bay; orange and purple streamers floated across the faded blue denim sky. The engines roared and the plane lifted off.
Ted Cruz and Rand Paul stood on the edge of the runway watching the taillights disappear into the night sky. They turned and started walking back to the beach. Cruz reached out and lightly touched Paul on the elbow.
“Rand. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Yes Ted. I think so…” and then added with a chuckle, “We’ll always have Paris, Texas.”
The Obamacare Wars Part 8
Leave a comment and I will send you a copy of the complete story... Thanks for reading.
Super Bowl Sunday. February 2, 2014. Half-time.
“John, the score is 9-7 in favor of the Lions. Do you have any thoughts on the game so far?”
“How many dropped passes and fumbles can you watch before you just shut off the TV. This game is horrible. If it wasn’t for the half-time show, I think most of America would have turned off by now.”
“Speaking of half-time, they have moved the stage into place at about the 40 yard line and there’s a special circular platform on hydraulic lifts that they have placed at the 50 yard line for Ted Cruz. The stage is huge, gigantic. It’s at least 20 feet off the ground.”
The lights of the stadium dimmed and the smiling visage of the President appeared on the Stadium Scoreboard screen via satellite link from the White House National Golf Course. He was looking well rested. There was a fire in the fireplace crackling softly. At the same time Ted Cruz was led to the special platform while a spotlight followed him. His hands were bound and the marshalls chained his legs to a short post in the center of the platform. It looked like he’d had a cheap haircut and was wearing a suit from Goodwill.
“My fellow Americans. Good Evening. I hope you are enjoying the game.” There was a restive murmur from the crowd and a smattering of boos. The President continued, “Sports and Politics have always been a potent combination, where people can take their passions and their skills and fight hard against their opponents. And at the end of the battle, they can shake hands and sit down and have a beer. Sure, one side gets bragging rights for a time when it’s all over, but every other team has a chance in the next cycle to be better and hit harder and run more negative ads and get more campaign donations and make more promises. And did you notice that they never seem to keep those promises. It’s all just trash talk and shuck and jive. Well, anyway, we have a special guest here tonight. Justice Clarence Thomas is here.” A smattering of cheers and clapping from the crowd. A feeble attempt at a wave began at section 33 and petered out at section 58.
“Justice Thomas. I understand that you have something to say.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Clarence fidgeted in front of the camera.
“And what would that be, Clarence?”
“I am here to plead for your mercy in the case of Senator Ted Cruz.”
The President waited. And waited. He looked at his watch. A minute passed. The crowd was starting to boo.
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you Justice Thomas. That was a stirring plea. I’m sure Mr. Cruz appreciates your passion and sincerity. But the time has come for a final decision.” The President gazed into the camera, raised his right arm and turned his thumb down. The crowd roared and cheered their approval. The stood up and stomped their feet. They danced and swayed. The stadium rocked.
The President continued, “We now have a special guest from Rome. Pope Francis is joining us live to give the last rites.” The screen switched to Rome where the Pope stood on a balcony overlooking St Peter’s square. Despite the late hour, tens of thousands of visitors were cheering in the streets. The Pope waved back at the adoring crowd. Then the camera zoomed in on his face and he began the solemn rites.
“Bless you my son, though you have sinned. The Lord offers you his mercy. In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. I forgive you my child. Quando para mucho mi amore chi cappela carathon.”
At the Vatican and in the Stadium the crowds erupted in cheers, and then Miley Cyrus stepped out of the shadows carrying a microphone with Britney Spears and Madonna at her side. The lights came up on stage, revealing the E-Street Band, minus the BS.
She waved at the audience to gasps and whoops, strutting out to the edge of the stage where there appeared to be a shimmering walkway connecting the stage to Ted Cruz. She stepped out onto walkway as the E-Streeters cranked up her mega-hit “Twerkin’ USA”. She began to dance, lifted by the music into some higher realm where she could look down on all the suckers and laugh at them. Britney and Madonna followed her until they had Cruz surrounded, moving in carnal delight. They danced more and more lasciviously, bumping and grinding against Ted’s pelvis and butt. Then Miley began to sing, sultry and vulnerable, and the crowd went wild, roaring and dancing in their seats.
If everybody had a dance floor
Across the U.S.A.
Then everybody'd be twerkin'
Like californ-I-A
You'd see 'em wearin' their baggies
and their High heels, too
Grab their bushy bushy bushy
Twerkin' U.S.A.
You'd catch 'em twerkin in DC
Ventura County line
Chicago and New York,
Crazy San Fran too,
All over Manhattan,
down San Diego way
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin U.S.A.
We'll all be going crazy
Shake your booty bump and grind
We're waxin' our bikini lines
We can't wait for June
We'll all be gone for the summer
Twerkin night and day
Tell the teacher we're twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
As the music continued Miley, Madonna and Britney danced as if they are one body joined in the electricity of the moment and they snaked their way back to the main stage as the crowd sung out in one supercharged voice, while below the spotlight shone brightly on a full grown male lion and an equally fierce looking Bengal tiger.
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
The Lion and Tiger sparred briefly and paced around the raised platform and roared as the crown gasped and then cheered even louder.
“This is fantastic John. I think that just made up for the entire first half and probably the second half too.”
“You said it Phil. I can barely catch my breath. And we’re just getting to the main event. This is amazing.”
Bruce Springsteen strode to the center of the stage and plugged in his electric guitar. One by one a parade of stars carrying microphones walked on to the stage and took their places as a gigantic chorus behind the band: the Rolling Stones, Beyonce and Jay-Z, David Bowie, Chris Isaak, Dave Matthews, the Temptations, Elvis Costello, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Jackson Browne, Alicia Keys, Janet Jackson, Diana Ross, John Fogerty, Van Morrison, Iggy Pop, Toby Keith, Keith Urban, Gary Clark Jr., the Wildfeathers, Willie Nelson, Lady Gaga, T Bone Burnett, Paul McCartney, Tom Petty, Dave Grohl, Eddie Vedder, Bono, Michael Stipe, John Mellencamp, Neil Young, and last but not least Bob Dylan wearing dark glasses and a top hat, with a harmonica in his left hand.
Springsteen smiled and waved to the crowd as he stepped up to the microphone. “A one, a two, a three…” The band launched into a thundering rendition of “Born in the USA” and the hydraulic lift began to lower Ted Cruz to his certain demise. The lion and tiger leaped frantically at the platform as it carried their prey closer and closer to their glistening teeth. By remote control, the chains on Cruz’s legs released and he stared down at the menacing beasts.
As the platform reached the ground Cruz stood motionless. The lion and tiger moved warily under the spotlights, in and out of the shadows. They growled and eyed their prey, circling ever closer as the music rose into the night. Finally the Lion retreated a few steps, pawed the ground, and raised its mammoth jaws toward the band and roared hideously. Then it charged at Cruz, who closed his eyes and stood like a statue. The lion stopped inches from his face. It roared again and raised a massive paw, swiping at Cruz’s body. He collapsed in a heap. The lion stood over him, pondering its next move. Then it lifted its leg and peed on the pile of clothing, before ambling back into the shadows and lying down.
The music had stopped. The stadium was silent. You could hear a pin drop. Finally, the trainers got to work and lured the Lion and Tiger back to their cages. Several workers picked up the triply soiled Cruz, strapped him to a cart and drove off.
The music started up again with Bruce and Neil Young trading verses and flaming guitar solos on “Rockin in the Free World.” The Stones played “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and finally Bruce and the multitudes finished the set with a barn burning Rock ‘n Roll rendition of “We Shall Overcome”.
The crowd collapsed in their seats, exhausted and spent. They were dazed and dazzled, exhilarated beyond belief. They’d been shot up into the sky like a rocket and then thrown off a thousand foot cliff and lived to tell the tale. They had seen something that perhaps no one would ever witness again. The music, the fury, the spectacle, the drama of life and death played out on the biggest stage. The second half was an afterthought, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. As they regained some semblance of consciousness, groups of fans staggered out of their seats and left the stadium. By the beginning of the fourth quarter, the stadium was maybe one quarter full. They’d seen it all. There was nothing left to see.
Final Score? Nobody cared.
Super Bowl Sunday. February 2, 2014. Half-time.
“John, the score is 9-7 in favor of the Lions. Do you have any thoughts on the game so far?”
“How many dropped passes and fumbles can you watch before you just shut off the TV. This game is horrible. If it wasn’t for the half-time show, I think most of America would have turned off by now.”
“Speaking of half-time, they have moved the stage into place at about the 40 yard line and there’s a special circular platform on hydraulic lifts that they have placed at the 50 yard line for Ted Cruz. The stage is huge, gigantic. It’s at least 20 feet off the ground.”
The lights of the stadium dimmed and the smiling visage of the President appeared on the Stadium Scoreboard screen via satellite link from the White House National Golf Course. He was looking well rested. There was a fire in the fireplace crackling softly. At the same time Ted Cruz was led to the special platform while a spotlight followed him. His hands were bound and the marshalls chained his legs to a short post in the center of the platform. It looked like he’d had a cheap haircut and was wearing a suit from Goodwill.
“My fellow Americans. Good Evening. I hope you are enjoying the game.” There was a restive murmur from the crowd and a smattering of boos. The President continued, “Sports and Politics have always been a potent combination, where people can take their passions and their skills and fight hard against their opponents. And at the end of the battle, they can shake hands and sit down and have a beer. Sure, one side gets bragging rights for a time when it’s all over, but every other team has a chance in the next cycle to be better and hit harder and run more negative ads and get more campaign donations and make more promises. And did you notice that they never seem to keep those promises. It’s all just trash talk and shuck and jive. Well, anyway, we have a special guest here tonight. Justice Clarence Thomas is here.” A smattering of cheers and clapping from the crowd. A feeble attempt at a wave began at section 33 and petered out at section 58.
“Justice Thomas. I understand that you have something to say.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Clarence fidgeted in front of the camera.
“And what would that be, Clarence?”
“I am here to plead for your mercy in the case of Senator Ted Cruz.”
The President waited. And waited. He looked at his watch. A minute passed. The crowd was starting to boo.
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you Justice Thomas. That was a stirring plea. I’m sure Mr. Cruz appreciates your passion and sincerity. But the time has come for a final decision.” The President gazed into the camera, raised his right arm and turned his thumb down. The crowd roared and cheered their approval. The stood up and stomped their feet. They danced and swayed. The stadium rocked.
The President continued, “We now have a special guest from Rome. Pope Francis is joining us live to give the last rites.” The screen switched to Rome where the Pope stood on a balcony overlooking St Peter’s square. Despite the late hour, tens of thousands of visitors were cheering in the streets. The Pope waved back at the adoring crowd. Then the camera zoomed in on his face and he began the solemn rites.
“Bless you my son, though you have sinned. The Lord offers you his mercy. In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. I forgive you my child. Quando para mucho mi amore chi cappela carathon.”
At the Vatican and in the Stadium the crowds erupted in cheers, and then Miley Cyrus stepped out of the shadows carrying a microphone with Britney Spears and Madonna at her side. The lights came up on stage, revealing the E-Street Band, minus the BS.
She waved at the audience to gasps and whoops, strutting out to the edge of the stage where there appeared to be a shimmering walkway connecting the stage to Ted Cruz. She stepped out onto walkway as the E-Streeters cranked up her mega-hit “Twerkin’ USA”. She began to dance, lifted by the music into some higher realm where she could look down on all the suckers and laugh at them. Britney and Madonna followed her until they had Cruz surrounded, moving in carnal delight. They danced more and more lasciviously, bumping and grinding against Ted’s pelvis and butt. Then Miley began to sing, sultry and vulnerable, and the crowd went wild, roaring and dancing in their seats.
If everybody had a dance floor
Across the U.S.A.
Then everybody'd be twerkin'
Like californ-I-A
You'd see 'em wearin' their baggies
and their High heels, too
Grab their bushy bushy bushy
Twerkin' U.S.A.
You'd catch 'em twerkin in DC
Ventura County line
Chicago and New York,
Crazy San Fran too,
All over Manhattan,
down San Diego way
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin U.S.A.
We'll all be going crazy
Shake your booty bump and grind
We're waxin' our bikini lines
We can't wait for June
We'll all be gone for the summer
Twerkin night and day
Tell the teacher we're twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
As the music continued Miley, Madonna and Britney danced as if they are one body joined in the electricity of the moment and they snaked their way back to the main stage as the crowd sung out in one supercharged voice, while below the spotlight shone brightly on a full grown male lion and an equally fierce looking Bengal tiger.
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
Everybody's gone twerkin'
twerkin' U.S.A.
The Lion and Tiger sparred briefly and paced around the raised platform and roared as the crown gasped and then cheered even louder.
“This is fantastic John. I think that just made up for the entire first half and probably the second half too.”
“You said it Phil. I can barely catch my breath. And we’re just getting to the main event. This is amazing.”
Bruce Springsteen strode to the center of the stage and plugged in his electric guitar. One by one a parade of stars carrying microphones walked on to the stage and took their places as a gigantic chorus behind the band: the Rolling Stones, Beyonce and Jay-Z, David Bowie, Chris Isaak, Dave Matthews, the Temptations, Elvis Costello, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Jackson Browne, Alicia Keys, Janet Jackson, Diana Ross, John Fogerty, Van Morrison, Iggy Pop, Toby Keith, Keith Urban, Gary Clark Jr., the Wildfeathers, Willie Nelson, Lady Gaga, T Bone Burnett, Paul McCartney, Tom Petty, Dave Grohl, Eddie Vedder, Bono, Michael Stipe, John Mellencamp, Neil Young, and last but not least Bob Dylan wearing dark glasses and a top hat, with a harmonica in his left hand.
Springsteen smiled and waved to the crowd as he stepped up to the microphone. “A one, a two, a three…” The band launched into a thundering rendition of “Born in the USA” and the hydraulic lift began to lower Ted Cruz to his certain demise. The lion and tiger leaped frantically at the platform as it carried their prey closer and closer to their glistening teeth. By remote control, the chains on Cruz’s legs released and he stared down at the menacing beasts.
As the platform reached the ground Cruz stood motionless. The lion and tiger moved warily under the spotlights, in and out of the shadows. They growled and eyed their prey, circling ever closer as the music rose into the night. Finally the Lion retreated a few steps, pawed the ground, and raised its mammoth jaws toward the band and roared hideously. Then it charged at Cruz, who closed his eyes and stood like a statue. The lion stopped inches from his face. It roared again and raised a massive paw, swiping at Cruz’s body. He collapsed in a heap. The lion stood over him, pondering its next move. Then it lifted its leg and peed on the pile of clothing, before ambling back into the shadows and lying down.
The music had stopped. The stadium was silent. You could hear a pin drop. Finally, the trainers got to work and lured the Lion and Tiger back to their cages. Several workers picked up the triply soiled Cruz, strapped him to a cart and drove off.
The music started up again with Bruce and Neil Young trading verses and flaming guitar solos on “Rockin in the Free World.” The Stones played “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and finally Bruce and the multitudes finished the set with a barn burning Rock ‘n Roll rendition of “We Shall Overcome”.
The crowd collapsed in their seats, exhausted and spent. They were dazed and dazzled, exhilarated beyond belief. They’d been shot up into the sky like a rocket and then thrown off a thousand foot cliff and lived to tell the tale. They had seen something that perhaps no one would ever witness again. The music, the fury, the spectacle, the drama of life and death played out on the biggest stage. The second half was an afterthought, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. As they regained some semblance of consciousness, groups of fans staggered out of their seats and left the stadium. By the beginning of the fourth quarter, the stadium was maybe one quarter full. They’d seen it all. There was nothing left to see.
Final Score? Nobody cared.
The Obamacare Wars Part 7
Leave a comment and I will send you a copy of the complete story... Thanks for reading.
December 1, 2013, 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
"This is Andrea Mitchell here on the steps outside the Supreme Court. Day One of the Ted Cruz Treason trial. A few moments ago, Cruz appeared in court in an orange jumpsuit, his legs in shackles and his hands bound. His hair was long, greasy and wild and much greyer than it had been during the shutdown battles. He had a long untrimmed grey and black beard."
Looking down his nose at the defendant, new Chief Justice Bill Clinton, resplendent in his black robes, asked, “Mr. Cruz, do you have any pre-trial motions?”
“I request, your Honor, that the trial be televised, so that the American People can see this miscarriage of Justice for themselves, with their own eyes.”
Clinton paused and removed his glasses. “Motion denied. This is just plain old fashioned country justice. Mano a Mano. You and me. Anything else?”
Cruz sighed and a wistful smile came to his lips. “I guess not.”
“How do you plead, Senator, to the charges of Treason?”
“Not Guilty, your Honor.”
“I guess we have a ball game then. Play ball gentleman. Mr. Holder, you may proceed with your opening statement.”
“Yes, Mr. President… I mean Mr. Chief Justice. We have a very detailed and well documented case against the defendant, Mr. Cruz. We will show that he conspired with his fellow Republicans and strategically chosen members of the media to bring down the Government of the United States. This heinous act of treason was almost successful in destroying the Republic.”
“Thank you Eric. Mr. Cruz, your turn.”
Ted stood up and looked around the courtroom, stroking his beard. He glared at Eric Holder. Justice Clinton appeared to be nodding off.
“My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country. Four score and twenty years ago, the democrats foisted upon this nation an abomination, or should I say an Obama nation. Socialism came to our shores, big time! Oh, they said that the only thing we had to fear, was fear itself. Well, be afraid. Be very afraid. The reign of terror has begun. The guillotine is being set up in the square. Madame Defarge is knitting while the executioner sharpens his blade. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country. Get locked and loaded my friends. That’s what you can do for your country. Remember the Maine!!! Seriously. Remember the Maine. Remember the Alamo too.
“If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow. That’s right! I’m talking to you Billy Boy and you too Eric the Red. There will be fighting in the streets because the kids are alright. Let me say it again. The kids are alright.
“But we’re all just another brick in the wall. Cogs in the machine being crushed by the wheels of Big Government. We are all just yearning to be free and to be left alone, so that we don’t have to care anymore about the poor and the blacks and the reds and the yellows. That is the greatness of America! Being free to just not care anymore. We need to let go of this horrible burden that is crushing our government and crushing our people. Death by a thousand cuts. Cut off one head and a thousand more appear to menace the people.
“Your Honor, my people are tired. My people are broke. My people don’t like green eggs and ham. We will not be crucified on a cross of gold, cause this dog will NOT hunt.” Clinton stirred.
“You know what? I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty I will be judged by the content of my character, not the color of my jumpsuit. I don’t need no riches. I don’t need no fortune nor fame. I’ve got all the riches one man could ever claim, right here in my heart. Don’t tread on me! Don’t you tread on me! I see a shining city on a hill. I see it. I see it all clearly. Give me Liberty or give me Death.”
Cruz took a slight bow, smiled and sat down. Clinton was snoring audibly, but dropped the gavel and awoke, startled at the sound.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Cruz, for that inspiring speech. I’m sure it will be studied in school for a thousand years.”
Eric Holder, the Attorney General, approached the bench and the bailiff called the first witness for the Prosecution.
“The prosecution calls Mr. Ted Cruz to the Stand.” A Federal Marshall unshackled Cruz’ legs and hands and led him to the stand, where he plopped down on the hard bench.
Holding out a Bible, the bailiff bellowed, “Do you, Mr. Cruz, agree to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Cruz pondered the question for a moment and said softly, “The Truth…” He paused a moment and his eyes began to glitter with fire as his face took on a menacing look.
“The Truth, You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Pelosi? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Harry Reid and you curse the Tea Party. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that death, while tragic, probably saves lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall…”
The Chief Justice pounded the gavel. “Order in the Court, Mr. Cruz. That was swell, but a simple yes or no would suffice. And by the way, I know Jack Nicholson and you Senator are no Jack Nicholson.”
“Yes, your Honor. I will tell the truth, the whole truth and whatever. But the American People demand more than a simple yes or no answer. They demand an end to their suffering under the unjust and arbitrary laws of this Administration. The truth is Your Honor that I do not like Green Eggs and Ham. I do like White Castle though… Mmmmmm. Sliders. That’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me God.”
January 1, 2014. 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
“This is Andrea Mitchell on the steps of the Supreme Court. This is a historic occasion. The Supreme Court is opened on New Year’s Day for the first time ever. Inside the sentence in the Ted Cruz Treason trial will be laid down. A few moments ago, Ted Cruz entered the courtroom flanked by two Federal Marshalls. His hair was even longer and more disheveled than it had been during the trial. His orange jumpsuit was wrinkled, as if he had slept in it all night. The sergeant at arms called out, “This court is now in session. All Rise.”
“Chief Justice Clinton, strode into the room like a colossus, his white mane perfectly coifed, his complexion ruddy. He took his seat. Then he waved for the assembly to sit and adjusted the glasses on his nose. His eyes were a little blood shot and frankly he looked tired. That New Year’s Eve party went on into the wee hours. I heard they were partying like it was 1999. What am I saying? We were partying like it was 1999.” The cameras turned on inside the court room. They zoomed in on the Chief Justice, who looked down at his prepared remarks.
“Mr. Cruz. I commend you for how well you did in your defense in playing such a bad hand. You have fomented an insurrection against the lawful government of the United States. You have committed Treason and the Penalty for Treason is Death. You will be executed at Half Time during the Super Bowl for all the world to see.” A smile crossed Cruz’s lips. His eyes brightened.
“Do you have any words for the Court, Senator?”
“I hope the Cowboys are playing, your Honor.” You might have thought for a second that he had won the lottery. The marshalls picked him up by the arms and whisked him away. Clinton stood up, turned, waved to the cameras and retreated to his chambers.
Super Bowl Sunday. February 2, 2014. East Rutherford, NJ. Moments before kickoff.
“We’re getting ready for the Super Bowl to start here. We were of course hoping for a matchup like the Saints and the Patriots, but that was not to be John.”
“Yeah, we’ve got the undercard tonight. A real snoozer. It’s the Bengals and the Lions, who both backed into the playoffs and managed to get here by sheer luck. I mean how many 80 yard fumble returns and last second interceptions in the end zone can any one team expect. But it seems like every game with these two teams, that was the script.”
“Well, they say the Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“You can say that again. I must say that was a stunning rendition of the National Anthem by Beyonce. I was almost in tears. It’s just amazing to watch those breasts swell when she hits the high notes. And we’ve got a great half-time show planned for you all. We’ve got Springsteen, the Rolling Stones, The Who, Paul McCartney, Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, Madonna and a cast of thousands. And, of course, we’ve got the execution of Ted Cruz too. The Lions have won the toss and have elected to receive. Let’s play ball.”
December 1, 2013, 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
"This is Andrea Mitchell here on the steps outside the Supreme Court. Day One of the Ted Cruz Treason trial. A few moments ago, Cruz appeared in court in an orange jumpsuit, his legs in shackles and his hands bound. His hair was long, greasy and wild and much greyer than it had been during the shutdown battles. He had a long untrimmed grey and black beard."
Looking down his nose at the defendant, new Chief Justice Bill Clinton, resplendent in his black robes, asked, “Mr. Cruz, do you have any pre-trial motions?”
“I request, your Honor, that the trial be televised, so that the American People can see this miscarriage of Justice for themselves, with their own eyes.”
Clinton paused and removed his glasses. “Motion denied. This is just plain old fashioned country justice. Mano a Mano. You and me. Anything else?”
Cruz sighed and a wistful smile came to his lips. “I guess not.”
“How do you plead, Senator, to the charges of Treason?”
“Not Guilty, your Honor.”
“I guess we have a ball game then. Play ball gentleman. Mr. Holder, you may proceed with your opening statement.”
“Yes, Mr. President… I mean Mr. Chief Justice. We have a very detailed and well documented case against the defendant, Mr. Cruz. We will show that he conspired with his fellow Republicans and strategically chosen members of the media to bring down the Government of the United States. This heinous act of treason was almost successful in destroying the Republic.”
“Thank you Eric. Mr. Cruz, your turn.”
Ted stood up and looked around the courtroom, stroking his beard. He glared at Eric Holder. Justice Clinton appeared to be nodding off.
“My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country. Four score and twenty years ago, the democrats foisted upon this nation an abomination, or should I say an Obama nation. Socialism came to our shores, big time! Oh, they said that the only thing we had to fear, was fear itself. Well, be afraid. Be very afraid. The reign of terror has begun. The guillotine is being set up in the square. Madame Defarge is knitting while the executioner sharpens his blade. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country. Get locked and loaded my friends. That’s what you can do for your country. Remember the Maine!!! Seriously. Remember the Maine. Remember the Alamo too.
“If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow. That’s right! I’m talking to you Billy Boy and you too Eric the Red. There will be fighting in the streets because the kids are alright. Let me say it again. The kids are alright.
“But we’re all just another brick in the wall. Cogs in the machine being crushed by the wheels of Big Government. We are all just yearning to be free and to be left alone, so that we don’t have to care anymore about the poor and the blacks and the reds and the yellows. That is the greatness of America! Being free to just not care anymore. We need to let go of this horrible burden that is crushing our government and crushing our people. Death by a thousand cuts. Cut off one head and a thousand more appear to menace the people.
“Your Honor, my people are tired. My people are broke. My people don’t like green eggs and ham. We will not be crucified on a cross of gold, cause this dog will NOT hunt.” Clinton stirred.
“You know what? I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty I will be judged by the content of my character, not the color of my jumpsuit. I don’t need no riches. I don’t need no fortune nor fame. I’ve got all the riches one man could ever claim, right here in my heart. Don’t tread on me! Don’t you tread on me! I see a shining city on a hill. I see it. I see it all clearly. Give me Liberty or give me Death.”
Cruz took a slight bow, smiled and sat down. Clinton was snoring audibly, but dropped the gavel and awoke, startled at the sound.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Cruz, for that inspiring speech. I’m sure it will be studied in school for a thousand years.”
Eric Holder, the Attorney General, approached the bench and the bailiff called the first witness for the Prosecution.
“The prosecution calls Mr. Ted Cruz to the Stand.” A Federal Marshall unshackled Cruz’ legs and hands and led him to the stand, where he plopped down on the hard bench.
Holding out a Bible, the bailiff bellowed, “Do you, Mr. Cruz, agree to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Cruz pondered the question for a moment and said softly, “The Truth…” He paused a moment and his eyes began to glitter with fire as his face took on a menacing look.
“The Truth, You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Pelosi? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Harry Reid and you curse the Tea Party. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that death, while tragic, probably saves lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall…”
The Chief Justice pounded the gavel. “Order in the Court, Mr. Cruz. That was swell, but a simple yes or no would suffice. And by the way, I know Jack Nicholson and you Senator are no Jack Nicholson.”
“Yes, your Honor. I will tell the truth, the whole truth and whatever. But the American People demand more than a simple yes or no answer. They demand an end to their suffering under the unjust and arbitrary laws of this Administration. The truth is Your Honor that I do not like Green Eggs and Ham. I do like White Castle though… Mmmmmm. Sliders. That’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me God.”
January 1, 2014. 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
“This is Andrea Mitchell on the steps of the Supreme Court. This is a historic occasion. The Supreme Court is opened on New Year’s Day for the first time ever. Inside the sentence in the Ted Cruz Treason trial will be laid down. A few moments ago, Ted Cruz entered the courtroom flanked by two Federal Marshalls. His hair was even longer and more disheveled than it had been during the trial. His orange jumpsuit was wrinkled, as if he had slept in it all night. The sergeant at arms called out, “This court is now in session. All Rise.”
“Chief Justice Clinton, strode into the room like a colossus, his white mane perfectly coifed, his complexion ruddy. He took his seat. Then he waved for the assembly to sit and adjusted the glasses on his nose. His eyes were a little blood shot and frankly he looked tired. That New Year’s Eve party went on into the wee hours. I heard they were partying like it was 1999. What am I saying? We were partying like it was 1999.” The cameras turned on inside the court room. They zoomed in on the Chief Justice, who looked down at his prepared remarks.
“Mr. Cruz. I commend you for how well you did in your defense in playing such a bad hand. You have fomented an insurrection against the lawful government of the United States. You have committed Treason and the Penalty for Treason is Death. You will be executed at Half Time during the Super Bowl for all the world to see.” A smile crossed Cruz’s lips. His eyes brightened.
“Do you have any words for the Court, Senator?”
“I hope the Cowboys are playing, your Honor.” You might have thought for a second that he had won the lottery. The marshalls picked him up by the arms and whisked him away. Clinton stood up, turned, waved to the cameras and retreated to his chambers.
Super Bowl Sunday. February 2, 2014. East Rutherford, NJ. Moments before kickoff.
“We’re getting ready for the Super Bowl to start here. We were of course hoping for a matchup like the Saints and the Patriots, but that was not to be John.”
“Yeah, we’ve got the undercard tonight. A real snoozer. It’s the Bengals and the Lions, who both backed into the playoffs and managed to get here by sheer luck. I mean how many 80 yard fumble returns and last second interceptions in the end zone can any one team expect. But it seems like every game with these two teams, that was the script.”
“Well, they say the Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“You can say that again. I must say that was a stunning rendition of the National Anthem by Beyonce. I was almost in tears. It’s just amazing to watch those breasts swell when she hits the high notes. And we’ve got a great half-time show planned for you all. We’ve got Springsteen, the Rolling Stones, The Who, Paul McCartney, Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, Madonna and a cast of thousands. And, of course, we’ve got the execution of Ted Cruz too. The Lions have won the toss and have elected to receive. Let’s play ball.”
Thursday, October 10, 2013
The Obamacare Wars Part VI
Mid-November. Mid-Afternoon. Guantanamo Bay.
John Boehner straddled the inflatable raft, pina colada in hand. His orange belly bobbed in the sun as the gentle surf rolled onto the white sand. He sucked the last of the drink into his gullet and tossed the plastic cup towards the beach where it tumbled in the water with a couple dozen compadres. He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking up the sun like a giant sponge.
Rand Paul, got up from his beach towel and strolled towards the water’s edge. He stuck in one toe and then another. Before he knew it he had waded out to his waist in the water. Effortlessly, he dived under the water and disappeared.
A moment later, Boehner’s raft was flipped over and the Speaker was gasping for air.
“God Dammit Paul! Can’t a guy drink in peace? F#$%@ you!”
Paul splashed in the water laughing. On the beach, the Tea Party Caucus convulsed in chortles and guffaws. Michelle Bachmann wheezed like a Canadian goose in flight.
Mitch McConnell stood up and shouted at the two figures at the water’s edge: “Hey Aqua Buddha, you need another drink!”
Mid-November. Near Sunset. Guantanamo Bay.
Rand Paul and John Boehner are sitting at the beachfront bar, tossing back Margaritas and watching the day’s wrap up on C-SPAN.
“They are re-enacting the entire F#$%@ing New Deal. Civilian Conservation Corps. Check. Works Progress Administration. Check. What are they doing to our country, Rand? What are they doing to the debt?
“They’ll pay for it. You can’t escape the dustbin of history.”
Boehner looked at the bartender and asked for another round. “Joey, can you change the friggin channel? This is too depressing.”
“Sorry boss, this is the only channel we can get down here.” He smiled and handed them their drinks. Michelle Bachmann and Mitch McConnell were salsa dancing to a reggae tune pounding out of the juke box at ear splitting volume, while Eric Cantor, John Roberts and Steve King watched from a table in the corner.
Boehner moaned, “Another lousy sunset in paradise,” as he looked out at the disappearing sun.
Does Ted get convicted of Treason? Will he be sentenced to Death?
Will Clarence Thomas save him?
What happens at the Super Bowl? What role does Miley Cyrus play in this?
Does she fall for the dashing Senator from Texas?
Is President Obama really a Kenyan Citizen?
Is Osama Bin Laden really a guest at the White House?
Will Sven and Karl reveal what happens to the Planet?
Learn the answers to these and more. Pick up the complete revised copy of The Obamacare Wars at Amazon.com for only $2.99 and read it on your Smart Phone, Kindle, iPad, Tablet or Laptop.
John Boehner straddled the inflatable raft, pina colada in hand. His orange belly bobbed in the sun as the gentle surf rolled onto the white sand. He sucked the last of the drink into his gullet and tossed the plastic cup towards the beach where it tumbled in the water with a couple dozen compadres. He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking up the sun like a giant sponge.
Rand Paul, got up from his beach towel and strolled towards the water’s edge. He stuck in one toe and then another. Before he knew it he had waded out to his waist in the water. Effortlessly, he dived under the water and disappeared.
A moment later, Boehner’s raft was flipped over and the Speaker was gasping for air.
“God Dammit Paul! Can’t a guy drink in peace? F#$%@ you!”
Paul splashed in the water laughing. On the beach, the Tea Party Caucus convulsed in chortles and guffaws. Michelle Bachmann wheezed like a Canadian goose in flight.
Mitch McConnell stood up and shouted at the two figures at the water’s edge: “Hey Aqua Buddha, you need another drink!”
Mid-November. Near Sunset. Guantanamo Bay.
Rand Paul and John Boehner are sitting at the beachfront bar, tossing back Margaritas and watching the day’s wrap up on C-SPAN.
“They are re-enacting the entire F#$%@ing New Deal. Civilian Conservation Corps. Check. Works Progress Administration. Check. What are they doing to our country, Rand? What are they doing to the debt?
“They’ll pay for it. You can’t escape the dustbin of history.”
Boehner looked at the bartender and asked for another round. “Joey, can you change the friggin channel? This is too depressing.”
“Sorry boss, this is the only channel we can get down here.” He smiled and handed them their drinks. Michelle Bachmann and Mitch McConnell were salsa dancing to a reggae tune pounding out of the juke box at ear splitting volume, while Eric Cantor, John Roberts and Steve King watched from a table in the corner.
Boehner moaned, “Another lousy sunset in paradise,” as he looked out at the disappearing sun.
Does Ted get convicted of Treason? Will he be sentenced to Death?
Will Clarence Thomas save him?
What happens at the Super Bowl? What role does Miley Cyrus play in this?
Does she fall for the dashing Senator from Texas?
Is President Obama really a Kenyan Citizen?
Is Osama Bin Laden really a guest at the White House?
Will Sven and Karl reveal what happens to the Planet?
Learn the answers to these and more. Pick up the complete revised copy of The Obamacare Wars at Amazon.com for only $2.99 and read it on your Smart Phone, Kindle, iPad, Tablet or Laptop.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
The Obamacare Wars, Part V
This has been revised and updated with new content on Oct 9.
December 1, 2013, 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
This is Andrea Mitchell here on the steps outside the Supreme Court. Day One of the Ted Cruz Treason trial. A few moments ago, Cruz appeared in court in an orange jumpsuit, his legs in shackles and his hands bound. His hair was long, greasy and wild and much greyer than it had been during the shutdown battles. He had a long untrimmed grey and black beard.
Looking down his nose at the defendant, new Chief Justice Bill Clinton, resplendent in his black robes, asked, “Mr. Cruz, do you have any pre-trial motions?”
“I request, your Honor, that the trial be televised, so that the American People can see this miscarriage of Justice for themselves, with their own eyes.”
Clinton paused and removed his glasses. “Motion denied. This is just plain old fashioned country justice. Mano a Mano. You and me. Anything else?”
Cruz sighed and a wistful smile came to his lips. “I guess not.”
“How do you plead, Senator, to the charges of Treason?”
“Not Guilty, your Honor.”
“I guess we have a ball game then. Play ball gentleman. Mr. Holder, you may proceed with your opening statement.”
“Yes, Mr. President… I mean Mr. Chief Justice. We have a very detailed and well documented case against the defendant, Mr. Cruz. We will show that he conspired with his fellow Republicans and strategically chosen members of the media to bring down the Government of the United States. This heinous act of treason was almost successful in destroying the Republic.”
“Thank you Eric. Mr. Cruz, your turn.”
Ted stood up and looked around the courtroom. He glared at Eric Holder. Justice Clinton appeared to be nodding off.
“My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country. Four score and twenty years ago, the democrats foisted upon this nation an abomination, or should I say an Obama nation. Socialism came to our shores, big time! Oh, they said that the only thing we had to fear, was fear itself. Well, be afraid. Be very afraid. The reign of terror has begun. The guillotine is being set up in the square. Madame Defarge is knitting while the executioner sharpens his blade. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country. Get locked and loaded my friends. That’s what you can do for your country. Remember the Maine!!! Seriously. Remember the Maine. Remember the Alamo too. If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow. That’s right! I’m talking to you Billy Boy and you too Eric. There will be fighting in the streets because the kids are alright. Let me say it again. The kids are alright.
“But we’re all just another brick in the wall. Cogs in the machine being crushed by the wheels of Big Government. We are all just yearning to be free and to be left alone, so that we don’t have to care anymore about the poor and the blacks and the reds and the yellows. That is the greatness of America! Being free to just not care anymore. We need to let go of this horrible burden that is crushing our government and crushing our people. Death by a thousand cuts. Cut off one head and a thousand more appear to menace the people.
“Your Honor, my people are tired. My people are broke. My people don’t like green eggs and ham. I will not be crucified on a cross of gold, cause this dog will NOT hunt.” Clinton stirred.
“You know what? I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty I will be judged by the content of my character. I don’t need no riches. I don’t need no fortune nor fame. I’ve got all the riches one man could ever claim, right here in my heart. Don’t tread on me! Don’t you tread on me! I see a shining city on a hill. I see it. I see it all clearly. Give me Liberty or give me Death.”
Cruz took a slight bow and sat down. Clinton was snoring audibly, but dropped the gavel and awoke, startled at the sound.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Cruz, for that inspiring speech. I’m sure it will be studied in school for a thousand years.”
Eric Holder, the Attorney General, approached the bench as the bailiff called the first witness for the Prosecution.
“The prosecution calls Mr. Ted Cruz to the Stand.” A Federal Marshall unshackled Cruz’ legs and hands and led him to the stand, where he plopped down on the hard bench.
Holding out a Bible, the bailiff bellowed, “Do you, Mr. Cruz, agree to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Cruz pondered the question for a moment and said softly, “The Truth…” He paused a moment and his eyes began to glitter with fire as his face took on a menacing look.
“The Truth, You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Pelosi? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Harry Reid and you curse the Tea Party. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that death, while tragic, probably saves lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall…”
The Chief Justice pounded the gavel. “Order in the Court, Mr. Cruz. That was swell, but a simple yes or no would suffice. And by the way, I know Jack Nicholson and you Senator are no Jack Nicholson.”
“Yes, your Honor. I will tell the truth, the whole truth and whatever. But the American People demand more than a simple yes or no answer. They demand an end to their suffering under the unjust and arbitrary laws of this Administration. The truth is Your Honor that I do not like Green Eggs and Ham. I do like White Castle though… Mmmmmm. Sliders. That’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me God.”
December 1, 2013, 10 AM EST. The Supreme Court.
This is Andrea Mitchell here on the steps outside the Supreme Court. Day One of the Ted Cruz Treason trial. A few moments ago, Cruz appeared in court in an orange jumpsuit, his legs in shackles and his hands bound. His hair was long, greasy and wild and much greyer than it had been during the shutdown battles. He had a long untrimmed grey and black beard.
Looking down his nose at the defendant, new Chief Justice Bill Clinton, resplendent in his black robes, asked, “Mr. Cruz, do you have any pre-trial motions?”
“I request, your Honor, that the trial be televised, so that the American People can see this miscarriage of Justice for themselves, with their own eyes.”
Clinton paused and removed his glasses. “Motion denied. This is just plain old fashioned country justice. Mano a Mano. You and me. Anything else?”
Cruz sighed and a wistful smile came to his lips. “I guess not.”
“How do you plead, Senator, to the charges of Treason?”
“Not Guilty, your Honor.”
“I guess we have a ball game then. Play ball gentleman. Mr. Holder, you may proceed with your opening statement.”
“Yes, Mr. President… I mean Mr. Chief Justice. We have a very detailed and well documented case against the defendant, Mr. Cruz. We will show that he conspired with his fellow Republicans and strategically chosen members of the media to bring down the Government of the United States. This heinous act of treason was almost successful in destroying the Republic.”
“Thank you Eric. Mr. Cruz, your turn.”
Ted stood up and looked around the courtroom. He glared at Eric Holder. Justice Clinton appeared to be nodding off.
“My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country. Four score and twenty years ago, the democrats foisted upon this nation an abomination, or should I say an Obama nation. Socialism came to our shores, big time! Oh, they said that the only thing we had to fear, was fear itself. Well, be afraid. Be very afraid. The reign of terror has begun. The guillotine is being set up in the square. Madame Defarge is knitting while the executioner sharpens his blade. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country. Get locked and loaded my friends. That’s what you can do for your country. Remember the Maine!!! Seriously. Remember the Maine. Remember the Alamo too. If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow. That’s right! I’m talking to you Billy Boy and you too Eric. There will be fighting in the streets because the kids are alright. Let me say it again. The kids are alright.
“But we’re all just another brick in the wall. Cogs in the machine being crushed by the wheels of Big Government. We are all just yearning to be free and to be left alone, so that we don’t have to care anymore about the poor and the blacks and the reds and the yellows. That is the greatness of America! Being free to just not care anymore. We need to let go of this horrible burden that is crushing our government and crushing our people. Death by a thousand cuts. Cut off one head and a thousand more appear to menace the people.
“Your Honor, my people are tired. My people are broke. My people don’t like green eggs and ham. I will not be crucified on a cross of gold, cause this dog will NOT hunt.” Clinton stirred.
“You know what? I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty I will be judged by the content of my character. I don’t need no riches. I don’t need no fortune nor fame. I’ve got all the riches one man could ever claim, right here in my heart. Don’t tread on me! Don’t you tread on me! I see a shining city on a hill. I see it. I see it all clearly. Give me Liberty or give me Death.”
Cruz took a slight bow and sat down. Clinton was snoring audibly, but dropped the gavel and awoke, startled at the sound.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Cruz, for that inspiring speech. I’m sure it will be studied in school for a thousand years.”
Eric Holder, the Attorney General, approached the bench as the bailiff called the first witness for the Prosecution.
“The prosecution calls Mr. Ted Cruz to the Stand.” A Federal Marshall unshackled Cruz’ legs and hands and led him to the stand, where he plopped down on the hard bench.
Holding out a Bible, the bailiff bellowed, “Do you, Mr. Cruz, agree to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Cruz pondered the question for a moment and said softly, “The Truth…” He paused a moment and his eyes began to glitter with fire as his face took on a menacing look.
“The Truth, You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Pelosi? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Harry Reid and you curse the Tea Party. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that death, while tragic, probably saves lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall…”
The Chief Justice pounded the gavel. “Order in the Court, Mr. Cruz. That was swell, but a simple yes or no would suffice. And by the way, I know Jack Nicholson and you Senator are no Jack Nicholson.”
“Yes, your Honor. I will tell the truth, the whole truth and whatever. But the American People demand more than a simple yes or no answer. They demand an end to their suffering under the unjust and arbitrary laws of this Administration. The truth is Your Honor that I do not like Green Eggs and Ham. I do like White Castle though… Mmmmmm. Sliders. That’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me God.”
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
The Obamacare Wars Part IV
Monday, October 21. 10 AM Eastern Time. White House Press Briefing.
Jay Carney steps up to the podium and runs a finger through his cropped hair, adjusting his glasses. He peers out at the crowd.
“As you are no doubt aware, the President has sent Bill Clinton’s name over to the Senate as the nominee for Supreme Court Chief Justice last night. The government has also taken over the management of Trump National Golf Course, which is being renamed the White House National Golf Course and the President will be spending a few days there playing golf this week. As you also know, as long as you haven’t been watching Fox News, the Country has been relatively quiet this weekend. The international markets – London, Germany, the Nikei – are all up. Near record highs. Ed, first question.”
Ed Henry from Fox News stood up and fidgeted for a moment. “It’s my understanding that the President traded a Kenyan Birth Certificate for the Golf Course. Is that true? And was the President truly born in Kenya?”
“Yes Ed. That’s true. The President was indeed born in Kenya. He’s also a Muslim and a Socialist.” Carney paused for a moment, a sly grin crossing his lips for a brief moment. “And he’s also the duly elected President of the United States. Twice, in fact. Any other questions Ed?”
“Ah, no. I guess not.” Henry sat down uncomfortably, gnawing on the news and looking troubled.
“Chuck Todd. Whas up my man?”
“Where are the Republicans from Congress right now?”
“They should be resting comfortably in Guantanamo, though I can’t say whether any of them are hung over or not. We drove them down to the docks in Miami in Air Conditioned buses with an open bar. From all reports they were really tying one on. They also had satellite radio, so they could get all the games, though there were a few fights over which games to listen to. Nothing too bad. Just boys being boys for the most part. No offense to Marsha Blackburn and Michelle Bachmann, of course.”
“How are the conditions Jay? Any complaints?”
“Not that I have heard. These are First Class beachfront accommodations. It’s all-inclusive. Boehner has really been working on that tan. Top shelf Rum and Tequila. They have access to an ATM. If they want something different, the Cubans gather round the barbed wire gates and sell good cigars, Cuban Rum, and those great pork sandwiches. It’s paradise really. After some cooling off, we’ll be happy to let them back in the country. They’ll have to work off their debt to society though. No more cushy jobs bloviating for the cameras in DC.” The press corps chuckled uncomfortably.
“Will we have access to them? Interviews? Whatever?”
“Depends on how well you can swim, Chuck.” Jay peered down his nose and chuckled. The whole room laughed.
Jay Carney steps up to the podium and runs a finger through his cropped hair, adjusting his glasses. He peers out at the crowd.
“As you are no doubt aware, the President has sent Bill Clinton’s name over to the Senate as the nominee for Supreme Court Chief Justice last night. The government has also taken over the management of Trump National Golf Course, which is being renamed the White House National Golf Course and the President will be spending a few days there playing golf this week. As you also know, as long as you haven’t been watching Fox News, the Country has been relatively quiet this weekend. The international markets – London, Germany, the Nikei – are all up. Near record highs. Ed, first question.”
Ed Henry from Fox News stood up and fidgeted for a moment. “It’s my understanding that the President traded a Kenyan Birth Certificate for the Golf Course. Is that true? And was the President truly born in Kenya?”
“Yes Ed. That’s true. The President was indeed born in Kenya. He’s also a Muslim and a Socialist.” Carney paused for a moment, a sly grin crossing his lips for a brief moment. “And he’s also the duly elected President of the United States. Twice, in fact. Any other questions Ed?”
“Ah, no. I guess not.” Henry sat down uncomfortably, gnawing on the news and looking troubled.
“Chuck Todd. Whas up my man?”
“Where are the Republicans from Congress right now?”
“They should be resting comfortably in Guantanamo, though I can’t say whether any of them are hung over or not. We drove them down to the docks in Miami in Air Conditioned buses with an open bar. From all reports they were really tying one on. They also had satellite radio, so they could get all the games, though there were a few fights over which games to listen to. Nothing too bad. Just boys being boys for the most part. No offense to Marsha Blackburn and Michelle Bachmann, of course.”
“How are the conditions Jay? Any complaints?”
“Not that I have heard. These are First Class beachfront accommodations. It’s all-inclusive. Boehner has really been working on that tan. Top shelf Rum and Tequila. They have access to an ATM. If they want something different, the Cubans gather round the barbed wire gates and sell good cigars, Cuban Rum, and those great pork sandwiches. It’s paradise really. After some cooling off, we’ll be happy to let them back in the country. They’ll have to work off their debt to society though. No more cushy jobs bloviating for the cameras in DC.” The press corps chuckled uncomfortably.
“Will we have access to them? Interviews? Whatever?”
“Depends on how well you can swim, Chuck.” Jay peered down his nose and chuckled. The whole room laughed.
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