Cuz sometimes ya just gotta …
In response to my recent post about the European Commission banning heirloom seeds and criminalizing the growth of all unregistered plants, someone commented:
“Can anyone say New World Order? It’s all about control. They intend to kill all of us but not before robbing us and destroying human rights and dignity. For an honest evaluation of the NWO check out Infowars.com with Alex Jones!”
To which I replied:
“Yep. Of course, New World Order is all just conspiracy ‘theory.’ How people can remain in denial about this boggles the mind. On the other hand, I sometimes get an obscene urge to blast all the WOes (what my friend Gillian calls them) with massive amounts of pixie dust – to intoxicating levels.
“Sometimes old Jabba needs his double chins tickled and just to be coated in all that icky human love stuff. Ohhhh, they hate that! Only miserable losers could feel so obsessed with controlling everyone and everything. If they’re allergic to pixie dust, so much the better.
“When are all these old men poisoning the world gonna kick the bucket? Seriously. They are way past expiration. Not to sound rude, but when you’re plotting and enacting genocide, sometimes people are going to wonder… Are billions ‘useless eaters’ or would that be the parasites and rats at the top?”
So, here’s my confession:
Sometimes I really do dream of showering the Dick’s (Durbin — who every few months tries to eliminate US consumers’ rights to natural supplements; and Cheney — a Dr. Eeeeee-villll who needs no further introduction) and Harry (aka Heinz aka Henry Kissinger) and their ilk with massive amounts of pixie dust. In addition to tumbleweeds, tickle monsters, and just-out-of-everyone-else’s-audible-range giggles. Sometimes I just wanna sneak some love into Dick Cheney’s heart replacement, because wouldn’t that be silly? And can you imagine Dick Durbin, the next time he tries to sneak through oppressive legislation on a holiday weekend if he finds himself having so much fun that he forgets to file that odious paperwork?
And Henry, ohhhhh, Henry, when you said, “the illegal we do immediately; the unconstitutional takes a little longer,” I know we must have misunderstood you. That was all part of your bad boy act, right? “Americans like the cowboy … who rides all alone into the town, the village, with his horse and nothing else … This amazing, romantic character suits me precisely because to be alone has always been part of my style or, if you like, my technique.” (November 1972 Interview with Oriana Fallaci) Your technique’s not lacking, is it Henry? Useless eaters just failed to appreciate it. I’m sorry, does that make us “dumb, stupid animals to be used as pawns for foreign policy,” too, or does that only apply to the military when they misread your rugged sense of style?
I do declare, all three of you tough guys take this New World Order and genocide business far too seriously. Lighten up or face the wind chimes.
And the faery pinches.
And the pixie dust.
Did your moms not love you enough? Did your dad not let you drive the golf cart? Oh, right, that was W … We all know Saddam Hussein tried to kill his daddy, which is why we are now how many murders deep in Iraq?
All y’all just got blasted with some Fae Mischief. Just cuz. Some of us would like to see you giggle about something actually funny instead of running your fingers through bald kitties and orchestrating the end of the world. If you’re gonna play characters from movies, then do yourselves a favor and learn from Mr. Grinch:
Play nice or Whoville will drive you batty. You can take all the toys from Whoville, and some of us will still sing. Some of us will chant songs and grow real flowers from real seeds that have nothing to do with Monsanto. Speaking for myself, if you decide to off me, then I will giggle at you and tickle you from beyond the grave. Because I can.
And because you’re funny — in a really sad, pathetic sort of way. You’ve definitely got a pixie dust deficiency, and if you keep aiming for control, all that supplementary pixie dust blowing your way is bound to make you sneeze or slip on a GMO banana peel, distracting you from whatever dastardly deed you feel compelled to push through today. Halliburton? Covered in hippie flowers and Deva Premal chants. The Senate? After your mandatory colonics that I will continue to prescribe for you, you’ll all be treated to a sweat lodge ceremony where all of you will get to purge out all of your (many) crimes, one sweat droplet at a time. I figure you’ll be in there for quite some time, but don’t worry, you’ve earned your time off. We will happily bring in replacements so that you can just sweat the small stuff into eternity. What?! Isn’t that what control freaks do????
And you, Henry! Ohhh, Jabba … I hear there’s some special entertainment for you, Cowboy. All those children your policies have starved and murdered? They’re ba-a-a-ck! Singing Christmas carols and nursery rhymes just loud enough to make you forget what kind of world you’ve worked so hard to rein in. Cowboy. We’re coming up on the Year of the Horse. Too bad: you’re spooked, and your horse is Faery charmed.
Cuz sometimes ya just gotta. Enough is enough.