 |
"U.S.-led coalition and Afghan troops, meanwhile, killed up to 21
suspected Taliban militants in three separate clashes in southern
Afghanistan, and a roadside blast killed four Afghan soldiers in the east,
officials said." NYT, Taliban to Free S Korean Hostages, 8/28/07.
Ironical Chronicle: We now kill suspects. Despite the enormous
implications of this statement, the NY Times prints it without comment.
Hitler suspected Jews of having caused Germany's defeat in WW1, so he
killed them. Bush suspects people who live in Afghanistan of being
"Taliban militants" so he kills them. I'm sure there's a
difference. |
September 22, 2007
Bush and Saint Peter
here's a good joke about Bush and
Saint Peter going around the internet. Except the ending lets Bush off too easy.
I decided to give the story a better punch line that's more in keeping with
Bush's historically low… low what? Low "popularity" doesn't capture it. Among
the American people it goes from contempt to hatred. But the polls don't measure
contempt or hatred of a President, just popularity, high or low. Can you
imagine, during WW2, the pollsters measuring the popularity of Tojo or Hitler
with the American people?
Last week we learned that expressing negative popularity through hostile
questioning of a US senator will get you 50 thousand volts. So what's left of
our democracy is that we can stick literary pins in a literary Bush voodoo doll
as long as voodoo doesn't work.
So here's my little voodoo exercise. It's called You Can Go To Hell!.
OTTO
You Can Go To Hell!
A one act play
[An embellished St. Peter joke, September 22, 2007]
(Additional stage directions and a closing line for St. Peter
added at Scene 4: October 6, 2007)
| C A S T |
| Saint Peter |
Palmiro Togliatti |
| Albert Einstein |
Himself |
| Pablo Picasso |
Himself |
| Karl Marx |
Himself |
| President of the United States |
George W. Bush |
It's a quiet morning at the "pearly gates" until
…
|
[St. Peter is at his post tending the gate to Heaven. He takes his job
seriously and, there having been a spate of imposters recently, he has become
especially careful to establish the identity of new applicants before letting
them enter.
On this particular day, it's been a quiet morning and he is catching up on
his bookkeeping. Looking up he notices a quiet, intelligent looking gentleman
before him. It is Albert Einstein. Having gotten St. Peter's attention, Einstein
speaks quietly and respectfully.]
Act I, Scene 1
Albert
Einstein |
Einstein: Saint Peter, I request
your permission to enter these gates.
St. Peter: Who are you?
Einstein: I am Albert Einstein.
St. Peter: You'd be
surprised how many people say they are Albert Einstein. Some people will do
anything to enter these gates. How can you prove to me that you are indeed
Einstein the great physicist?
Einstein: May I have a blackboard and a
piece of chalk, sir?
St. Peter: Of course. Presto! [Snaps his fingers
and a blackboard and chalk instantly appear.]
Einstein: [Writing
equations in compact tensor notation, Einstein quickly derives his General
Theory of Relativity, proves that space is curved, E = mc2, and that
energy is quantized.]
St. Peter: Bravo Professor Einstein! We are all
fans of your Theory of Relativity and we especially enjoy watching the
precession of the perihelion of Mercury from our privileged vantage point. I
anticipate that you will point out examples of gravitational lensing for the
benefit of all of us here after you have gotten settled. Welcome to Heaven!
Act I, Scene 2
Pablo Picasso |
[It is a few
minutes later. Pablo Picasso appears. His penetrating gaze suggests an uncanny
ability to discern the essence of things and to represent this on canvas.]
Picasso: Saint Peter, I request your permission to enter these gates.
St. Peter: Who are you?
Picasso: I am Pablo Picasso.
St. Peter: Prove to me that you are indeed the great painter Picasso.
Picasso: [Goes to the blackboard, erases Einstein's equations, and in
a few minutes recreates his famous 1907 painting Les Demoiselles D'Avigon
in black and white.]
St. Peter: Bravo Pablo Picasso! I remember that
painting well, it changed the course of art history. We are indeed honored by
your presence and anticipate that you will decorate our walls with more of your
great masterpieces. Diego Rivera is already here, but there is more work than
even he and his assistant Frieda Kahlo can handle. Welcome to Heaven!
Act I, Scene 3
Karl Marx |
[A few minutes have
passed since the last applicant. Karl Marx appears. His high and wrinkled brow
suggests a titanic intellectual struggle to create a theory of human history
itself.]
Marx: Saint Peter, I request your permission to enter these gates.
St. Peter: Who are you?
Marx: I am Karl Marx.
St.
Peter: Prove to me that you are indeed the great Political Economist Marx.
Marx: [Erases Picasso's picture and in a few minutes, using his Labor
Theory of Value and the Law of Diminishing Returns proves that capitalism is
doomed and will be superseded by Communism.]
St. Peter: Bravo Herr
Doktor Marx, we are indeed honored by your presence. Your theory of Dialectical
Materialism is widely discussed here and I am pleased to tell you that we have
been practicing Communism here for a long time. We are close to perfect here,
but my intuition tells me that we could use a few tweaks here and there to make
things even better. Welcome to Heaven!
Act I, Scene 4
Definitely not
Einstein. |
[Another few minutes have passed.
George W. Bush approaches wearing a flight suit, an American flag pin, and a
patch that says "Mission Accomplished." Despite the get-up he looks lost. He has
been unsuccessfully trying to get Condoleezza Rice on his encrypted cellphone.
Angrily throwing the phone down, he speaks to Saint Peter.]
Bush: Hey Dude, I just co-piloted myself up here in my National Guard
supersonic stealth jet. What was that commotion I heard here a few minutes ago?
Are you Saint Peter? Have you seen Osama bin Laden? My mission is to save the
Universe from the Axis of Evil. Let me in or I'll order a surge to knock that puny
gate down!
St. Peter: Yes, I am Saint Peter and that "commotion" was
me verifying the identity of three distinguished men, Albert Einstein, Pablo
Picasso, and Karl Marx.
Bush: Einstein, Picasso, and Marx? What
football team do they play for?
St. Peter: You don't have to tell me
who you are. You are George W. Bush and…
You can go to Hell!
[The stage suddenly goes black, followed by a brilliant flash of lightning
which projects an instantaneous huge, hovering, and threatening shadow of a
batwinged devil on the stage background followed by a tremendous clap of
thunder. The stage lights slowly come back up revealing a dissipating cloud of
smoke where Bush had been standing. There is a trace of sulfur in the air. Saint
Peter is quietly at his desk making a notation in his record book as if nothing
had happened. Bush is nowhere in sight.]
St. Peter [Addressing the audience in normal voice.]: Just another
Jesus Christ imposter. We get them periodically, you know.
[The curtain comes down.]
