By Cooter Jackson, Editor-In-Chief
MUD LAKE, NV- Greetings, fans of the truth. Cooter here. I’ve just returned from a pilgrimage to the foul, ulcerated heart of our so-called government, posing as a normal tourist while I witnessed the grim machinery of totalitarianism that is Washington, DC.
Say, did you know that you’re required by “law” to wear pants inside the Library of Congress? I sure didn’t. And I didn’t see a sign posted anywhere, either. Of course they mention shirts and shoes, but in typical big government fashion, those fascist librarians are just waiting to hang you with their hidden loopholes. I mean, I tried to let them know that I was a sovereign citizen and ambassador of Mud Lake, and thereby not bound by the draconian laws of the District of Columbia and it’s territories. But do you think that pack of capitol police officers listened? Those corn-fed Nazis might have the guns and the numbers, but yours truly gave them a run for their money, I tell you what.
Having anticipated this grievous assault on my personal liberty and freedoms, I had previously lubed myself up with Crisco, so I was about as slippery as a greased pig at a county fair. I gave those boys the run around for a good fifteen minutes, all the while letting bystanders know that I was being oppressed because I was fighting for their freedoms.
It was going pretty well until they tasered me on the front steps of the Supreme Court. Don’t lie, Justice Elena Kagen, you were looking. And you liked what you saw. Call me.
After the police examined my blog I was found not guilty by reasons of insanity, so after a few rounds of electroshock therapy, here I am again in Mud Lake. But let me tell you, those marble steps are hard, especially when four capitol policemen are dogpiling you. So, according to “doctors” I might have a “concussion” and I should “avoid alcohol or controlled substances.” Hah, right. Whose control? The government, that’s who.
So anyway, while I wait for my pain medication of choice to kick in, I’m going to report to you the findings from my trip.
You probably already guessed this, but I’ve discovered that our government has been subverted at the highest levels.
That’s right, squirrels. Once, before the white man arrived, this was their country. A squirrel could go from the Hudson to the Mississippi without touching the ground. A squirrel paradise. The continent was lousy with ’em. These vicious rodents kept our native American brethren under brutal subjugation for centuries, preventing them from attaining industrial civilizations through a systematic program of targeted assassinations. Dances With Clouds has a great idea for a steam engine? Blam. Not anymore, he doesn’t.
This went on until we white men, with our advanced squirrel killing technology, came here and freed our native American brothers from rodent oppression, introducing them to the modern wonders of disenfranchisement, disease and generational substance abuse. No no, don’t thank us. We were just doing what any good Christians would.
The point is, the squirrels haven’t forgotten. They’ve been plotting ever since, scheming to regain control of this land and return it to a squirrel-dictatorship. They’ve been committing sporadic acts of terrorism for years, attacking bird-feeders, sending suicide bombers to disrupt electrical transformers, but they’ve stepped up their game. It is my sad duty to inform you that they’ve subverted the executive branch.
That’s right, Barack Hussein Obama is actually a squirrel-controlled robot. Now the birther movement has noticed some discrepancies about Obama’s birth certificate and his history, but they’re barking up the wrong tree. The reason they couldn’t find that birth certificate is that Obama is a robotic human-clone, created in a secret underground squirrel laboratory deep in the Ozarks.
Once those furry little shits got their Manchurian squirrel candidate into the white house, they immediately set about subverting human-kind. How, do you ask? With sane, progressive policies and universal health care. If we didn’t have to slave away at jobs we hated in order to keep our health benefits, if we didn’t live with the constant threat of a major illness wiping us out financially, if we had a functioning social safety net, if we weren’t continually worried that one misstep would see us stumble and fall, then to be crushed under the wheels of capitalism, what then? We’d get soft, that’s what. We’d all just sit around, having gay sex and smoking legalized marijuana, living like kings off of government benefits. We’d be too content and stoned to even care when the Squirrel army marched into town, killing off our leaders and scientists, initiating a squirrel Khmer-Rouge that would plunge us back into the stone age, allowing those buck-toothed little monsters to regain control.
So thank God for our republican leadership. Maybe they didn’t know that Obama was being controlled by a squirrel pilot inside his skull, but they knew something was wrong. They knew that our very existence as a society hinged on their ability to hamper “President” Obama on Every. Little. Fucking. Thing.
Socialized healthcare was a no-brainer. But I’m impressed by the persistence and the tenacity shown by our republican leadership to oppose and find fault in even the tiniest, most inconsequential actions by the Obama white house, as if it were a struggle for our very civilization. If Obama said water was wet, they’d pollute the water until they could successfully say that no, water is oily. I mean, they didn’t have anything good to say about the “President” even after the death of Osama Bin Laden. (and don’t get me started about THAT guy) These heroic republicans managed to successfully block innumerable vile, subversive plots, such as allowing longer leave periods for combat soldiers (S. Amdt. 2909) and establishing the right of habeas corpus for detainees. (S. Amdt. 2022) Can you even imagine the hell on earth that would follow if we allowed so-called President Obama to appoint a head of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid services?
So, fellow Americans. Look our your windows. You see that squirrel there, staring at you with its tiny, beady eyes brimming with hatred? If it wasn’t for that thin brave line of old white men obstructing their subversion, that little rodent would be happily feasting upon your flesh. Let us hope that the Republican Party’s courage holds for another year, until we can get a human corporate-controlled robot back into the white house, like God intended.
Mud Lake, NV