Canto Nineteen – Back Aboard Xiar’s Base Ship
Harmony Castille had been searching for an hour for little Davalon and little Tanith. It was well past time for their Bible School lesson on the story of David and Goliath. Nothing was more important to Harmony than pounding Bible wisdom into the heads of these little green heathens. She had gotten practically all of the grown-up frog folks to wear clothing for the majority of their day. Tadpoles, however, were much harder to train to have some modesty about gadding around the space ship totally nude. The very idea! She had to overcome this nonsense about Telleron children needing to absorb nutrients and moisture through their skin. She could dose them a whole heckuva lot better while they were wearing clothes. All she needed was a few large tablespoonfuls of cod-liver oil and a generous helping of a good laxative. You couldn’t help but feel healthy and whole with your bowels thoroughly emptied and roasted clean from the inside. And where had these naked heathens gotten to? Brekka, Menolly, and George Jetson were missing too. Rapscallions as bad as any of those awful Pirates back in Norwall, Iowa. Definitely a bad influence. And the trail led directly to…
“Sublieutenant Studpopper?”
“Erm, yes, Miss Castille?”
“Is it possible you know the whereabouts of Captain Xiar’s children, Davalon and Tanith?”
“Erm, yes, ma’am. They were assigned a support mission and went out on Golden Wing Sixteen just after Commander Biznap’s mission went down to the planet.”
“Support mission, hmm?”
“Yes, ma’am, er… I mean… erm, um…”
“Land sakes, young man, why ever are you so nervous?”
“Erm, well… no offense, ma’am, but you have a great a deal of power over Captain Xiar’s family and crew. And I can’t afford to be making any more mistakes. I may already be headed for the protein vats to be made into tadpole cookies for my blunders on Earth… while following that awful, terrible, traitorous Commander Sleez.”
“Please! No one is going to make you into tadpole cookies while I have anything to say about it. Those would obviously turn out to be the most bad-tasting, foul cookies ever baked.”
“Oh, thank you, ma’am… I, uh, think.”
“So who gave the order for this support mission?”
“Um… erm… Captain Xiar?”
“Hear it from his mouth didja?”
“Um… well, no… Oh, no.”
Harmony gave him one of her meanest old-lady lion-tamer stares that could turn rattlesnakes non-poisonous and boil the truth out of any evil little Sunday-school student who ever tried to get away with a big, black belly-thumper of a lie.
“I will report the mistake immediately.”
“You are dadgum right you will! And take responsibility for it too. You won’t be turned into tadpole cookies, but I guarantee you the top of the list for latrine cleaners, and you will probably head the list of those asked to go out there and get them back!”
*****
During my middle-school teaching years I also bought and read copies of The Prince and the Pauper, Roughing It, and Life on the Mississippi. I would later use a selection from Roughing It as part of a thematic unit on Mark Twain where I used Will Vinton’s glorious clay-mation movie, The Adventures of Mark Twain as a way to painlessly introduce my kids to the notion that Mark Twain was funny and complex and wise.
Doom is Imminent, It’s Time to Sing!
Yessir, the Cubs have a chance to win their first World Series since 1908 tonight. They have not won the title since Tinker to Evers to Chance was the double-play combo of poetic proportions. They have never won in my lifetime, and I am quite old. So, there is proof positive the world is about to end.
Yes, I can even describe the mechanics of the thing. Donald Trump will be elected President of the United States thanks to Mr. Comey’s timely reveal of more scandalous emails that he has not read and chuckled about yet. You know, the ones that he couldn’t have actually read yet because they come from potential pedophile Anthony Weiner’s computer, and he had to have a separate warrant from a judge to read anything that may have to do with Hillary, even though probably none of them contain nude pictures from Hillary, and she probably didn’t even write those emails. The world had to know about that right before the election, especially members of the Republican House Committee for examining Hillary’s every boo-boo. So, the Donald will win, because nobody is doing any press conferences on the FBI investigation on his ties to the Russian government through the biggest bank in Russia. ‘Taint important, Pogo.
And once the great orange pumpkin-head is our next president, our health care will no longer be under the misguided protection of Obamacare. Instead, it will will be taken care of by “something terrific” that will make high profits for somebody, and make certain that I will never be able to pay another medical bill (since those who are deceased rarely do).
And, of course, President Pompadoodle will be able to declare that we no longer have to believe in the climate change hoax. The result being that we will soon be able to buy beachfront property in Iowa and Missouri, be able to purchase our breathable air in factory-made brick-form, and possibly grow a helpful third eye from the mutating effects of nuclear radiation.
And, lastly, I would like to thank the late great Walt Kelly for illustrating today’s post. One wonders how a cartoonist can look so far ahead from the 1960’s to do such a fine job of illustrating the problems of 2016? Will miracles never cease? I mean, really, we could probably do with a few less of these industrial grade miracles made out of recycled elephant poop.
Leave a comment
Filed under angry rant, comic strips, commentary, conspiracy theory, feeling sorry for myself, goofy thoughts, humor, politics, satire
Tagged as Chicago Cubs, Donald Trump, doom, end of the world, Hillary Clinton, humor, politics, satire, Walt Kelly