Once upon a time and long ago, there lived a Political Cartoonist (PC). By all accounts, he was a good daddy and very happy PC, who carried out his duties 6 days each week by rendering and submitting his sketches to his Editor at the backwater town newspaper, The Philadelphia Inquirer ... and a half-dozen other syndicated outlets. All was good for the Political Cartoonist, as he portrayed Foreign and Domestic Leaders and other Public Figures in embarrassing situations, as was the custom of the PC's of his Day. He made fun, for instance, of President Jimmy, as he sat in the oval office, imagining how to destroy the World, at least the World as we knew it:
 |
| Oops, there goes another Rubber-Tree Plant |
He used the American Folk Hero, Mickey,
to mock our greatest Biological Scientists ...
 |
| By Golly! |
Hell! He even went after poor dead
Herr Dokteur Frood and his phallic symbology!
 |
| Zo, az you see, the Vorld is full of Schmucks! |
All was cool, indeed, until the Advent Season of a Christmas ... "which Christmas, you ask?" The Ancients believe it may have been 1974 but some important matters do get lost in the Fog of History and the addled state of Retracting Prefrontal Lobes ... and we just cannot be certain. Still, for us, the story has remained ... and that, My Kiddies, is what counts. You know what I mean ... History Class and all its Dates really sucked for most of us and by the time Social Security comes, Grandpa and Grandma are lucky to remember where they hid their Ginkgo Biloba. Ach du lieberman ... even the exact date that Global Warming and the Rising Seas finally swamped Miami's SouthBeach and Louisiana's New Sodom is no longer remembered, not anymore. But I digress.*
He ... he, the somewhat disgruntled Cartoonist ... believed he was to be on holiday that Cold, Cold Christmas while the mean, mean Editor was quite certain that Tony had agreed to provide a cartoon for the editorial page in time to appear on that very Christmas Morning for all the exhausted parents and excited children.
Always the Trickster, Tony submitted a Christmas Scene for the Ages and one certain to please even Charlie Hebdo. Tony had thought and thought ... and then he thought some more ... about what might truly and completely bring to life some unknown facts about what had occurred in the Lonely Town of Bethlehem, at the very moment the Holy Mother was drawing Little Jesus to her breast for the very first time.
Now, in those Days, before CNN began capturing every irrelevant piece of News and before Trump TV was even a twinkle in Drumpfkopf, Kool-KellyAnne and Bannon's baggy little eyes, News passed through the Badlands of the Middle Eastern Deserts in the Belle Lettres and rough Lithography of now-unknown traveling minstrels who shredded all their notes before running. Running for what, you ask. Running before they got run-outa-town on a well-used camel.
And in fairness ... Tony never claimed to have captured the exact newspaper facts of that dark, dark night but there is every reason to believe that e-mails on Anthony Weiner's Private Server may, yet, turn up ... at last, verifying the details of this one Unholy Night ... That Very Night ... When the Star of Bethlehem was barely shining ... and the World represented by Uriah the Hittite's one and only Sheep was all that mattered.That was, it is said, the very same night that a poor Little Ovine was Boldly Groped and more by the Little-Rich-Boy-from-Queens Shiek. There is some evidence that it was a Bitter, bitter November 8th, but the Sheik's Campaign Manager has not yet confirmed either that date or the precise hour that the Truly Golden Bough was passed through that Sheep's ass. Only time and the release of Publican Records of Unpaid Tributes and Bounties that remain, to this day, unreconciled will settle this matter. (Don't hold yer breath!)
He ... he, the somewhat disgruntled Cartoonist ... believed he was to be on holiday that Cold, Cold Christmas while the mean, mean Editor was quite certain that Tony had agreed to provide a cartoon for the editorial page in time to appear on that very Christmas Morning for all the exhausted parents and excited children.
Always the Trickster, Tony submitted a Christmas Scene for the Ages and one certain to please even Charlie Hebdo. Tony had thought and thought ... and then he thought some more ... about what might truly and completely bring to life some unknown facts about what had occurred in the Lonely Town of Bethlehem, at the very moment the Holy Mother was drawing Little Jesus to her breast for the very first time.
Now, in those Days, before CNN began capturing every irrelevant piece of News and before Trump TV was even a twinkle in Drumpfkopf, Kool-KellyAnne and Bannon's baggy little eyes, News passed through the Badlands of the Middle Eastern Deserts in the Belle Lettres and rough Lithography of now-unknown traveling minstrels who shredded all their notes before running. Running for what, you ask. Running before they got run-outa-town on a well-used camel.
And in fairness ... Tony never claimed to have captured the exact newspaper facts of that dark, dark night but there is every reason to believe that e-mails on Anthony Weiner's Private Server may, yet, turn up ... at last, verifying the details of this one Unholy Night ... That Very Night ... When the Star of Bethlehem was barely shining ... and the World represented by Uriah the Hittite's one and only Sheep was all that mattered.That was, it is said, the very same night that a poor Little Ovine was Boldly Groped and more by the Little-Rich-Boy-from-Queens Shiek. There is some evidence that it was a Bitter, bitter November 8th, but the Sheik's Campaign Manager has not yet confirmed either that date or the precise hour that the Truly Golden Bough was passed through that Sheep's ass. Only time and the release of Publican Records of Unpaid Tributes and Bounties that remain, to this day, unreconciled will settle this matter. (Don't hold yer breath!)
(With apologies to a great PC, Mr. Tony Auth of blessed memory, who denied
to the end of his life that he ever sketched what my kids grew up calling
"The Sheik and the Sheep." May we all see many more Joyous Xmas Seasons!)
* Indeed, this entire Blog ... right from the beginning, is a digression from thinking of the Trumpocalypse.
The sheik's sixth sheep's sick!
ReplyDeleteThanks for telling me.
Delete