IS THIS THE PARTY TO WHOM I’M SPEAKING?_CONTINUED_VER 4.0

“A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government.” Edward Abbey

So there I was, meandering through our local Walmart, just looking around, in a semi-daze and not really paying attention (probably overwhelmed by the excess of incredible !RollBack! bargains all around me), when…bump…I ran into something.

Shit.

I looked down and around the front of my cart, and, OMG, I had accidentally bumped into, pardon my lack of PC etiquette here, a midget. I immediately reached down to help the poor guy up…geez, I felt terrible…said I was really sorry and I asked him if he was okay.

Well, he says, I’m not happy.

Oh, I says back, so which one are you?

My inadvertent and vertically-challenged victim wasn’t the only one who wasn’t happy; I was by no means thrilled to be singled out as one of the sacrificial foot-soldiers for President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump’s wall-building war with Congress…no thanks, Pres. (See my post from 1/10/19 IS THIS THE PARTY TO WHOM I’M SPEAKING?_CHAPTER THREE for the sordid details.)

Yet there I was, the recipient of another call from His Eminence, telling me how he, with the input of his advisors, had decided that engaging various media/blogger persons in a “dialogue” would be a better way to tell in more detail his side of the Great Southern Wall debate, and the best way to sell the idea to what is becoming, outside of his fanatical base, an increasingly skeptical public.

Might work…might not. (I’m betting “not”…this wall idea stinks worse as the days go by and a significant portion of the Federal government remains shut-down as retaliation by Mr. Trump on Congress for not giving him what he wants. Not sure how he thinks he’s hurting Congress by shutting down government services to American citizens.)

So it was with no small amount of disgust and trepidation that I saw the caller ID…202-456-1111, the White House, and stopped dead in my tracks.

(Off camera announcer, in his best melodramatic game-show announcer voice…)

“Cap’n John Krissongs, here are your choices…a) you can choose to have a red-hot fireplace poker shoved into your right eye; b) or you can choose to become infested with crotch lice the size of Hummers; or c) you can take the call from the President and listen to what he has to say.”

Tough choice…can I have a few minutes to think it over?

Shit…I took the call.

After PTB and I got some very brief prelims out of the way, it was right to business…I asked the Pres to clue me in on why he was calling me, and received a three minute explanation that explained nothing.

“So, Pres, why me?” I asked again; what was he really after?

“Well, Cap’n John, let me give you the entire truth of the matter.” (And as he said this, I thought shit, PTB, you wouldn’t recognize “the truth” if it walked up and bit you on the ass. Whatever…I was in it now, and might as well listen attentively.)

“And what is that, Pres?” I asked.

“That this country needs a wall on our Southern border, between us and the Moccasins and the Humidorians, or whatever they call themselves. The flow of illegal drugs has increased by 250,000% in the last fifteen minutes alone, and is only going to get worse. Then there’s all the rapists and criminals that are moving north over the border into the United States, to say nothing of the international terrorists that are flowing into this country from down South as well. When we finally get my wall built, it will be so beautiful, and the people will love me…or else.”

He muttered that last phrase under his breath, so I didn’t realize what he had really said until later when I was mentally reviewing our conversation.

“But Pres, according to the U.S. Customs and Border Protection people, under your administration, in the first 11 months of 2018, well in excess of 90% of all heroin, cocaine, methamphetamine and fentanyl shipments that were seized were coming through legal crossing points. The FBI, Interpol and all the major Western intelligence agencies will tell you that “international terrorists” get to their destinations by flying, not walking in the midst of a human caravan, and it isn’t “rapists and criminals” whose children are being kept in detention centers, away from their families and subjected to who-knows-what horrors. And believe me, your wall won’t stop smuggling or illegal entry either. Hell, the Mexican authorities have found three tunnels used for smuggling into Arizona in the last month alone. You’re kidding yourself.”

“YOU WILL BOW TO ME, CRETIN, AND ACKNOWLEDGE MY AWESOMENESS, OR FEEL THE MIGHTY WHIP OF VENGEANCE…oh, sorry, got a little carried away there, I just get so frustrated listening to people like you repeat “fake news” like those statistics from the U.S. Customer and Border Collies people, or that garbage about terrorists flying, that’s absolute crap…if that were the case, what would keep them from taking over planes and flying them into build…never mind. Listen, this country is facing a serious threat from the flow of illegal aliens and drugs over our Southern border,” he repeated himself, “and the only thing that will stop the flow is a wall.”

“You never hear a thing anyone else says, do you?” I asked him.

“What? Did you say something?”

“Point, Cap’n John. Well, Pres, there’s another issue that you keep waltzing around…you want Congress to give you $5.7 billion, billion with a very large “B”, of the American taxpayer’s tax dollars to build your wall. But you repeatedly said during your campaign back in ’16 that you’d build the wall and Mexico would pay for it. Of course, then the President of Mexico told you to stick it, so now you want the American people to pick up the tab. I don’t think so, Your Arrogance.”

“All right, if you’re going to argue using facts, which is a really uncouth way to argue, then here’s a fact for you…remember when I told you that I was the Second Coming of the Alien Messiah, last time we spoke (see my post from 12/11/17 CHARIOTS OF THE GODS?)? Well, hear this, Mr. Smarty Pants With Your Facts Cap’n John, this Messiah isn’t coming back to a country overrun with little brown people with small brown fingers and toes, I’ve come back to be the leader of decent white Christian folks (beginning to yell) WHO WORK HARD, WANT TO RAISE THEIR FAMILIES IN THE SUBURBS, GO TO CHURCH ON SUNDAY AND HAVE DELUDED THEMSELVES INTO THINKING THAT MY SHIT DOESN’T…”

All of a sudden there was some commotion from behind PTB, like someone was trying to take the phone away from him, again. “No, don’t you touch me…lemme’ go, damn it…” I heard the phone hit the top of the desk, as the sounds of struggle there in the Oval Office continued. “TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF ME, I AM THE MESSIAH, YOU WILL OBEY…” PTB’s voice trailed off as I assume security people with ginormous biceps dragged him away.

Another voice came on the line…

“Uh, Cap’n John, uh, this is Dr. Leaves, we spoke back in April, the last time President Trump called you.” It was Basil Leaves, the President’s personal physician, who also happens to be a board-certified psychiatrist in the State of New York.

“Yes, Dr. Leaves, how is your patient?” I inquired.

“Uh, the President? He’s fine, just fine, but he was suddenly called away from your conversation to handle other serious matters of state. He said to tell you he was sorry and that he would be calling back soon.”

“Doctor, lemme’ ask you a question…have you ever wondered how many assholes there are in a dozen?” I hung up without waiting for an answer.

Oh goody, another potential call from President “Tweety Bird” in the future…I can hardly wait.

(Announcer’s voice from offstage…)

“…and the “Jeopardy” answer is…Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, Sleazy, Bashful, Doc…sorry, SNEEZY.”

(Voice of Alex Trebek…)

“Cap’n John, you wagered (number appears on podium) $5.7 Billion…and your answer is ‘What are the names of some of the people being considered for Cabinet posts in Donald Trump’s administration?’” That answer is correct. You are this week’s loser, along with everyone else in America.”

Love and construction,

Cap’n John

Post Script…the “midget” joke was gleefully stolen from comedian Larry the Cable Guy…git r’ done.