Monkeys of the Corn

The apes and other hairy primates are not all in New Hampshire today. They're here. They threaten.

Some are full-fledged war monkeys,  obstructing justice, interfering with official acts, and assaulting our police officers.  (A common-sense monkey-control law is needed: One stuffed monk a month;  full background check; strict may-issue permit system to carry.)

Others are bigger but more benign and show human-like abilities to communicate via simple symbols and engage in rudimentary thought processes. There are nine of the them, but we can't afford that many bananas so we're looking for a good home for the two orangutans. We'll keep the bonabos.

Up until yesterday we thought there were ten in all, but close scientific examination revealed that one one had just become confused and wandered in. Researchers hosed him down, handed him a plantain, and took him  back to his seat in the legislature.

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Iowa  official brains freeze in February and melt in July. It isn't enough to  aspire to make Iowa the world center for the study of equatorial apes. We actually begged and received gazillions in federal money to create a tropical rain forest down by one of the big Corp of Engineers lakes.  We gave most of it back after The Van Der Platts Peeps and other spiritual leaders learned that jungles harbor people who run around naked and don't tithe.

The Dynasty Lives

A fresh Kennedy kid is trying to decide if the fate of the Republic depends on offering himself for service in America's high councils.

He's Joe . He says he's earned  Barney Frank's seat because, in part, of his "experience." Said experience consists of a tax-paid vacation in the Peace Corps and fully 30 months as county prosecutor.  Take that, Iran!

Yes, Joe is one of those Kennedys, and in a properly governed nation that would be automatically disqualifying. Consanguinity, however slight, should be sufficient to complete the offense.

Even Big Brother says something smart once in a great while

For an inglorious instant this morning I was Winston Smith. The Inner Party had fulfilled its threat.  I loved Newt Gingrich.

"(Mitt,) can we get rid of the pious baloney?"

The Messiah Oliver North

Produced by the College Young Republicans and rescued from a trash can at the Eisenhower Center, home of the Republican National Committee, late in the Reagan years, in the era when Lt. Col. North was getting somewhere with his argument that, no, the Constitution of the United States of American really wasn't meant to be taken all that seriously.