Flashing #41: Political Satire

Monday, May 18, 2009

Ok, so I’m a Democrat. No big surprise there. But I’m not one of these democrats who believe that Obama’s going to fix everything. Well, the inspiration behind this piece is: What if Obama does fix everything. And I’m talking about fucking everything. Everyone has job, all diseases are cured, there’re no more wars, Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt are dead, cats can talk, women with unwanted pregnancies can have the fetus beamed into the womb of a woman who wants kids but can’t have them – everything is fixed for-fucking-ever. Case closed, problems solved, the Department of Homeland Security is replaced with the Department of House Parties. Secretary of the Interior is renamed Secretary of Hotpants. The world is fun and exciting and everyone on the PLANET is happy...

...but through this all there’d still have to be one last Republican. One man holding on to the principles of Reagan (Limbaugh). What would that man be like? I give you, The Last Republican.

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The Last Republican

“Exclusive! Nobama/Hillarious overheard talking about China.” John takes a moment to replay the MSNBC clip one last time, hoping to make out the details of what these two traitors are discussing. After watching the clip for the hundredth time, he’s convinced it has something to do with socialism. He attacks his keyboard, “Audio is spotty at best but if you look at Zero’s lips it looks like he may be saying something about socialism. Remember, China is a communist country, and Barry wants us to be communist, so if he’s talking about China with Billary than it must have something to do with toppling America, seizing more power, and plunging our economy into a new recession.”

He presses “post” and slinks back in his chair, victorious. He picks up his ham radio and blasts his message over the airwaves, “This is AA10X, the last bastion of sanity, letting you all know that a new report has been posted to the Going Galt blog. Please give it a read and comment.”

The basement door creeks as John’s mother tries to announce that dinner’s ready without intruding on John’s 1st amendment rights. “John! Are you having dinner with us tonight?”

“Goddamn it, mom! I was on the hammie! Do you know how embarrassing it would have been if you opened your big fat mouth while I was on the air?”

“Sorry, honey, I just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with us tonight.”

“What’re we having?”

“Meatloaf.”

“Is there any Mountain Dew left?”

“Yes dear.”

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

John refreshes his blog. No comments. He looks at his ham radio. No-one’s calling back.

“This is AA10X, the last bastion of sanity, is AA4QQ out there?”

Radio silence.

“AA4QQ?”

“This is AA4QQ, what’s going on AA10X?”

“Did you see my newest article on Mr. Affirmative Action and Pants Suit? Fucking commies, right?”

“I didn’t get to read it, AA10X. Sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know…I got a job, I’m busy.”

John fumbles with his radio as he tries to make sense of this news. “You got a job? How’d you get a job?”

“I applied for one.”

“You APPLIED for one?”

“Yeah, man – there’re plenty of jobs out there. I think you’re the only unemployed person left.”

“AA10X is a commie! AA4QQ out!”

John refreshes his blog again. Still no comments. He checks his stats. One visitor and two refreshes. He turns on Fox News.

“…latest Gallup Poll has 0% of the population identifying themselves as Republican with a margin of error of zero…”

John turns off the television and kicks his futon. “What about me? WHAT ABOUT ME? Why’s no-one polling ME? These damn polls never represent the truth!” He stammers upstairs and takes his seat at the dinner table.

John’s father plops a healthy dollop of mashed potatoes onto his plate. He doesn’t even look at his son as he says, “You’ve been in that goddamn basement all day. Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and there’s money to burn…why don’t you get OUT for a bit?”

John picks up a pile of meatloaf with is bare hands, dips it in the crazy, and shoves it into his face hole. His words are barely audible and are punctuated with flying gobs of partially chewed food. “Why would I want to get out there with all of those brain dead morons? I can’t stand to see people who don’t understand how this country is heading into a nose dive.”

John’s father ignores his son and turns to his paper with a sigh. John’s mother shifts uncomfortably in her chair. John downs his Mountain Dew, shrugs, and heads back to his basement, the last bastion of sanity.

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posted by Jason at 1 Comments


1 Comments

Blogger Max Cascone said...

I assume you've read "Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole, this sounds like an echo of the main character.

1:54 PM  

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