Monday, January 11, 2016

Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee Replacement

Guys, I hate to do this to you, but I'm going to have to pass the hat again. I know it's right after the holidays and we're all tapped out, but this is a NATIONAL EMERGENCY!, and just as the Continental Army perished in the snows of Valley Forge for want of a few weevil-ridden Johnny cakes, so are patriots languishing at a bird sanctuary visitors center because they are no longer able to snap into a Slim Jim. Mark my words, this rebellion shall not fail on my watch!  In fact, I'm looking into franchising the idea of White Guys turning Federal facilities into pop-up, Gitmo-style prisons and house-arresting themselves, because I think it's a tremendous blow for justice! And irony.

Hear me out...

Like the zebra mussel, white guys with guns are a non-native, invasive species that migrated to North America on ships and is proving very difficult to control. Now, I suppose we could always spray them from helicopters like the Mediterranean Fruit Fly, or maybe introduce a predator into their habitat (gun shows, Cracker Barrel), but I can't offhand think of a species which hunts the White Guy, not even the wily Northeastern blue-bellied cop, and I don't think we can afford to wait for natural causes (arterial plaque, toddler-involved shootings) to cull the herd for us.

Nope, we need a bold new idea, and I don't have one, so instead let's combine Mitt Romney's old idea of solving the immigration issue through "self-deportation" with the even older American notion of the reservation -- desolate and remote areas where Native Americans were shipped off to while White Guys with guns established squatter's rights to the rest of the continent. Unfortunately, we can't stage a new Trail of Tears, because it wouldn't be metaphorical this time -- the modern White Man takes his First Amendment right to whine very seriously -- and it would all be captured on smartphones and posted to YouTube, and I'm guessing footage of internal exile would make the government look kind of tyrannical, unless they could think of something fun to do during the exodus, like play "I Spy" or get a round of "Row, Row, Row, Your Boat" going.

So clearly, the answer is Self-Imprisonment: let's not dislodge these Minutemen (as their wives derisively call them), let's lodge them. There must be hundreds of isolated and half-forgotten government buildings these guys and their brethren could crowd into -- corrugated steel sheds where pesticides for the Tri-County Mosquito Abatement District are stored; the gift shop at the old Yucca Flats nuclear testing ground; the shack used by that guy from the state Agriculture Department who takes the annual skunk census in Mingo County, West Virginia (I mean, I assume that's a thing; I'd hate to think Mingo County is just guessing about its skunk population).  Let's face it, guns are dangerous, and White Guys carry guns the way ground squirrels carry plague. But while you can keep a squirrel out of your day care center without Wayne La Pierre taking you to court, White Guys and their death-dicks not only have the run of the country, they can even point sniper rifles at police officers, the way Ammon Bundy's buddies did at his daddy's ranch, and never even risk a ticket, let alone arrest. So really, confining these pasty patriots to a secluded spot in the woods is the closest they're ever going to get to a jail cell. Or at least to a progressive dinner at the Unibomber's cabin.

So let's allow, even encourage these pastytriots to occupy our nation's ranger stations and nuclear waste sites, just so long as their guns remain there with them, under house arrest (and I'm serious here guys: your AR-15s and your AK-47s have to wear those tracking ankle bracelets too).  And like Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, who managed to write A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich while laboring in one of Stalin's gulags, the Occupiers would be free to write pamphlets and manifestos and exchange ideas (at a fair market rate of exchange) with fellow Constitutionalists who share their belief that the nation's founding document says private citizens can beat up the Federal government and steal its lunch money (incidentally, according to Merriam-Webster, the proper collective noun for such a confab is a blowhoard of blowhards).

So anyway, we should all kick in to buy these latter day Spartans some Fritos or something, before they get peckish and go home.


ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

Send them snacks (as they requested) with smallpox.

It's tradition!

Scott said...

Excellent! Everyone gets a bento box o' pox!

maryclev said...

Stephanie Miller's Rocky Mountain Mike:

Debbi said...

How about a historical video? :)

Magpie said...

I read that book.
Murre are starving in Alaska for lack of food, possibly connected to a warming Earth. Feed 'em redneck?

Anonymous said...

ANNTI sez...

Hmmmm... well, getting them to resort to cannibalism isn't TOO far off the beam, Magpie, I'm sure that they've all at least TRIED to make the move at least once in their useless lives... but we can get back to my plan to reduce prison recidivism later... {(C) 2003} And they are NOT getting my barbeque recipe!!!

Anywho, wish that I had some MREs to send y'all, Scott & Mary (& Sheri?), but we burnt through 'em pretty fast back during Gustav... Terrible Ted made a funny and sent me some from IOWA, KANSAS and, worst of all, MISSURUH --- that were labeled "CAJUN" this and "CREOLE" that, and well, I don't need to describe the sacrilege or bloodcurdling shrieks that ensued. Going to whack the shit outta the piggy bank shortly, will send whatever she coughs-up.

As to your very savvy idea to turn these Oregonian nutbags into a profitable bidness, I could actually see a future in that... if we could get ahold of any or all of the Shaw Group, Bechtel & Halliburton-constructed "black box" private prison sites sprinkled throughout the countryside (provided that we don't need a firefight to GET AT 'EM... I enjoy the hell outta playing "DOOM" but I never wanna LIVE IT, let alone have flashbacks to that sacrilege of a "movie"!!!) --- son, we would be IN BIDNESS!!!

Somebody, somewhere, got shorted on their above-union wages, and will be willing to talk, provided we poke at 'em with the right sharp stick. Hell, knowing electricians the way that I do, the right bottle of Jameson's & a bony hooker oughta do it!

See, thataway, public facilities, parks, etc., won't have to be wasted on the unwashed & beard-fetish gun nuts (Hey, I appreciate male facial hair as much as the next gal, but this fad shit of everybody looking like they fell out of the fucking OAK RIDGE BOYS is getting fucking DISGUSTING!!!), we'll have them rolling or tripping or simply appropriately sedated into believing that they're "holding" a "fortress" and that they must "safeguard" it from "an invading enemy force" (pick a color, any color, long as it ain't cracker-white, they'll go for it!) --- and before it's over-with, those whackadoos will off EACH OTHER out of their natural paranoia & dick-related fears/complexes. It's pure profit from there on out! Again, I don't need to go into my whole anti-prison-recidivism bit here, feeding them isn't even a concern, as most county/parish prisons in this country resort to ramen and baloney most days, so whatever happens next on that little "food chain," well, men's gotta eat, right?

I call dibs on operating whatever black-box site that's closest to an ocean!