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Friday, December 31, 2010

If Bozo the Clown Were President [Today's News Satire by Kevin Brown, December 31, 2010]

If Bozo the Clown Were President [Today's News Satire by Kevin Brown, December 31, 2010]
By Kevin Brown

What is satire? Satire’s the truth toned down.

Anonymous

     If Bozo the Clown were President, he’d be sworn in with a BANG! At the Inauguration, he’d Rocky Balboa the steps of the U.S. Capitol, and shadow box for the press. He’d take the official oath with his fingers crossed behind his back: “I do solemnly swear, yadda, yadda, yadda,” he’d say. “…and defend the Constitution of the United States, oh help me God.” Then, he’d smack the Chief Justice in the face with a cream pie. This would be followed by a 21 cap-gun salute and the Big Top Band playing, Hell, Here’s the Chief. And Cooky would be Vice President. Wizzo and Cuddly Duddly cabinet members. They’d cartwheel down Pennsylvania Avenue. Throw candy like a real parade.
     If Bozo were President, he’d start an arms race, where all the weapons are toy flag guns that say, POP! POW! Or: KITOWW! He’d have all airplanes built with the same material as the black box. He’d put treadmill belts in front of fast food registers, so patrons could burn calories while waiting for their food. Speed them up if the orders are Super-sized. Instead of food drops to starving countries, he’d drop the starving off at Chuck E. Cheese.
     President Bozo would then change the type of element that backs the world’s currency. Instead of gold and silver, he’d make it water and see how fast we’d drain the oceans. Class separation would be levels of dehydration. Next, he’d make everyone from each country pick up and move to another—Britain to Africa, Japan to China, Germany to Israel. Move America to Iraq and see if we’re really so advanced or if it’s just location, location, location. He’d stop worrying about life on Mars and focus on death on Earth. He’d settle all wars by having each side play the Grand Prize Game. Each bucket made is another battle won.
     If he were leader, he’d say, “Ask not what your country has done to you, but what you have done to your country.” He’d make diamonds worthless. Make gravel precious stones. Then, the streets would be paved with jewels. He would institute a reversal of celebrity. Make movie stars, sports icons, and rock gods pay outrageous ticket prices to watch teachers teach children, maids scrub toilets, and mechanics fix cars. He’d improvise his speeches and give the world a reason to laugh. He’d text message the State of the Union Address: M-S, V-P-C, M-O-C, etc., etc., and it’d be the easiest to understand in years. He’d put humans on the endangered species list, because we’re all one nuclear pissing contest away from extinction. He’d bring ice cream to NATO meetings and say, “I scream, you scream, we all scream.” He’d squirt water in Queen Elizabeth’s face. Pull a rabbit from Hu Jintao’s ear. Give a balloon to Kim Jong Il. He’d make the world a fun place. Make the world a better place.
     If Bozo the Clown were President, he’d be assassinated with a smile.


Kevin Brown has had work published in over seventy journals and was nominated for a 2007 Journey Award and a Pushcart Prize. His first book Ink On Wood is scheduled to be published in the summer of 2010. His website is: www.InvisibleBodies.com




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The Last CombatWords For 2010 Is Also The First CombatWords For 2011

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Passage of Fools [Today's News Poem, December 31, 2010]

Passage of Fools [Today's News Poem, December 31, 2010]

I've depleted the winter and gathered its dew
On a pinhead—my pinhead—and watched as it danced
From the tips of my follicles, into my nose
Where it planted the needles, the pine, and the sap.
The survivors are green where it's gray and they burst
In my lungs, where it's damp and it's pointless to breathe.
At this rate, I'll be coughing up blood and I still
Do not think I will notice the seasons with care.
I was born in a village, but lived in the hive
Of our awe—yes, our gardens of dogshit and brick.
In my life it has taken me thirty five years
To have noticed that moths have a cycle, that rats
Are the floorboards—the blame for the venomous cure.
If this year has a meaning, its meaning is year—
It's not time, just a name for this passage of fools.

"Look at the calendar dummy."
—Khakjaan Wessington, December 31, 2010
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