Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Lifestyles of the Rich and Fascist

Ahhh...the Good Old Days...

Another Episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Fascist

Starring George Bush as Der Fuhrer

This week's episode: "The Repackaging of the President"

By Rex Frankel
(Originally published in the Free Venice Beachhead, January 1992)

We return to the Kennebunkport Kountry Klub for another exclusive insider's eye on our nation's leaders at their favorite sport. This week's discussion: an election-year return to Kinder, Gentler Fascism.

Tonite's guest star is David Dupe, who manages to show up for golf at the same time as Der Fuhrer. Dupe is so right wing that Herr Bush's first sound bite of the day is "He gives Nazi's a bad name."

"It's OK to be intolerant of minorities," Bush confides later on the green, "just don't pose for any pictures while wearing your hood. Besides," he chuckles, "the three-piece suit has been the dress of real Nazi's for years!"

"I always keep my hood in the closet", Bush reminisces, "sometimes I take it out and hold it close, then wrap it in my yellow ribbon and put it away for another day of people and their problems I don't understand."

Der Fuhrer swings, cleaving the little white ball past two secret service agents on the first green.

"Oh, how I long for the good old days," he continues "when I said 'War', America jumped. I was on TV for more hours every day than Alex Trebek or even Geraldo!" He droned off as he putted to the first hole, an uphill roll that would have to hook to the left to go in. "Another Politically Correct shot" Bush mused, making his second sound bite of the day. Bush's handlers cheered, knowing the hungry news reporters and the stable of GOP editorial columnists would gobble that PC comment and write several days worth of vacuous articles on the subject, ignoring again domestic issues which are soo boring.

The vice president was off playing golf with Wingy-D of the rap group "Republicans With an Attitude". Dan really got off on their latest hit "Rich and so Angry I could Explode". Humming the tune, he said to Wingy "I'd tap my toes if they weren't in these heavy jackboots." Wingy-D seemed impressed.

Quayle made a slow putt, which was dumb since he was at the starting tee. He turned to Milo Finblatz, his press aide/translator, and whispered "I keep forgetting--am I supposed to get a high score or a low score?"

Milo whispered back out of microphone range "Space invaders High, Golf Low."

Gerald Ford swung in his usual wild but conservative way, lobbing the little white ball onto the luncheon salad bar, not injuring anyone but scaring the crap out of Barbara Bush, who began clucking "The sky is falling, the sky is FALLING!" Thinking better of this, she realized she'd been tripping on the President's antihistamine tablets. The bottle did warn "Do not handle heavy machinery or affairs of State while using this drug". She remembered how George forgot the warning one night and sold missiles to his old friend Saddam Hussein. But these things happen.

John Wilkes Bilgewater is the president's top propagandist. Before joining the White House staff, he wrote ads for Reprehensible Life, one of the nations top sharks, er insurance companies. "Look George, if you're gonna take people's civil rights away" Bilgewater blusters, "they're not gonna vote for you. It's this damn democracy. I don't like it either." Bilgewater's proven election-strategy unfolded: "But, if Dupe and that other loudmouth, Loose-Cannon runs, you can say they hate civil rights even more than you do, and you can blame the Democrats in congress for all the welfare criminals that caused us to take away the civil rights in the first place. We can't lose, George. Just drop the "Stormtroopers of the World" slogan for a kinder, gentler "Nazi's that Care". I swear, it'll sell!"

"But I like `Stormtroopers'!" Der Fuhrer protested.

Bilgewater pulled out a pocket computer and proclaimed "Our polling says Stormtroopers has a negative image, what with all those dead Kurds in Iraq. But kids today don't remember Nazi's and the only Nazi's on TV are harmless boobs like on Hogan's Heroes. And c'mon! You're a sensitive president. You cried while you sent our boys off to Iraq. You appeal not just to the run-of-the-mill fascist, but also the friendly neighborhood highrise builder, the average out-of work bomb designer, the laid off arms merchant. You're not just a Nazi, George, you're a "Nazi that Cares".

"And after the election you can conveniently forget any promises you accidentally make, and get back to business as usual."

Der Fuhrer scratched his butt and said, "John, you've got something there!"

Bush shouted to the Vice President, "Dan c'mere, I wanna know what you think of this."

"It's not my job to think," Quayle replied, "but I'll give it a try."

"Look Dan, Bilgewater's got something here. Put away your jackboots and armbands for a while, hide the hood in the cellar, and get out your bible. We're goin' on the campaign trail."

"Sieg Heil!" cheered Quayle, stepping out of character. "I mean, duh---yippee!"

"Good boy, Dan," said der Fuhrer.

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