by Wiley Doggerel*
Having learned in the last few years the grave necessity of rooting out every remnant of earlier grossly unsatisfactory times, and to suppress all Wrong Thought, we must stand ready at any moment to do the right thing – and quickly. How shall we know what the right things are? That is easy enough, my friends, we shall yield to current gnostic Yankee wisdom and the newest history as found in the Sniffsonian Magazine, the Atlantic, the New Yorker, the New York Times, and an array of lefty blogs like Vox, Salon, and several dozen others. The brilliant moral and strategic insights of sundry city councils and county and state governments presently occupied by strident morons playing at posthuman Bolshevism will implement those fine ideas. Above all, things must go forward at a dizzying pace so that the most important goal of all human life, the permanent rule of the Democratic Party and its near ally, the feckless Republican Party, may go on smoothly forevermore. The Empire demands no less.
We therefore propose that in every American state, city, town, hamlet, unincorporated district, or corporate subdivision dedicated to bourgeois escapist practices like golf, there be pre-stationed a yellow or orangish crane of appropriate size ready to snatch up and destroy any offending statue, monument, image, or idea within seconds of an official determination of wickedness. The color of the cranes shall be taken as forever established by recent and current practice. The color of any particular contractor can be decided eundo, until or unless the cranes of many sizes are nationalized, in which case the Attorney General will make all decisions about color and creed while wearing his unmerited garlands.
It shall be a federal crime punishable by large fines, long prison terms, and endless moral lectures, to repaint, deface, or otherwise interfere with a designated National Crane by any means, verbal, mental, or physical. Any country song mocking such crane, its operators, owners, or mission will bring the same penalties to bear on anyone writing, publishing, playing, singing, thinking, or remembering any such subversive song.
We must be thorough. We must be vigilant. We must comply. We must believe. The Radiant Future awaits, even if each new Radiant Future will be replaced by an even more radiant one by Tuesday week.
Keep up, ye deplorable bitter clingers. This is Post America. Love it or leave it. Wait, you can’t leave it – it’s the Hotel California.
Be it further proposed that at such time as the problem of improper statues, memorials, or thoughts shall have been nearly solved, and Post Rational Nirvana achieved, the National Cranes shall be gathered into a National Crane Park in the Ten Miles Square (formerly Washington DC), where they shall be worshipped by all and sundry. Failure to attend such services shall entail large fines applied arbitrarily on a case to case basis. The dismantled statues, memorials, paintings, images, and ideas shall be housed in the Hermann Goering Room of the National Basement of Stolen Art, awaiting proper and instructional melting and destruction.
*Joseph R. Stromberg