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The Private Summit – Senator Hubris Story

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The Private Summit


                                                                                   Mark Poyhonen

                Four political figures hastily left the summit hall right after the American President had finished with his personal address.  Security guards in various uniforms ushered them into a small but ornate room that held a table set with fine china and silver dinnerware.

                Mamoody Almsforjihad was quick to enter the room and he took a moment to pick the best seat at the ornate round table.

                “It seems, gentlemen, that having arrived first, allows me to seat myself at the head of the table,” he said, jauntily sitting in the chair closest to the door.

                “I see my favorite silver chopsticks are set with the royal table setting I am accustomed to share with no one,” Dim Wad II spoke stiffly as he plopped himself on the extra high cushion that served as a seat on his selected chair.  “It is good for you that you did not choose this seat, comrade Mamoody,” said Dim Wad II in a confidential manner.

                “Now, now, gentlemen,” placated the honorable Senator Hubris, “We have come here to share this feast, not eat each other.”  The Senator was sweating from the exertion of travelling down the long hallway and daintily placed his bulk in a wide bench having padded arms.

                “Yes, I agree,” rasped the older voice of Fido Crisco.  He moved with slow deliberate steps towards  a heavily carved wooden chair located opposite Mamoody. 

                “Do you require assistance, Fido?” asked Senator Hubris; ready to call in a guard to help the elderly gentleman.

                “No, no,” replied the dictator.  “I am quite capable on my own, just slowing down a bit as I get older and more burdened by the affairs of state.  At least I don’t have the problems you have at the moment.”

                A group of servers flowed in single file from a side door only seconds after Fido had seated himself. They were all bearing trays of delicacies and seemed to know who wanted what as they expertly placed foodstuffs upon the plates set before the four dignitaries.  No server spoke a word.  The course was rapidly served in silence with the single exception of Dim Wad II who had a tendency to make slurping noises during his assault of buttered corn on the cob.

                “I must commend your president for his act of public humble crow eating,” began Mamoody Almsforjihad with a big smile.  “The jihad will be strengthened by his admission of guilt and we are inspired to send more Americans to judgment.”

                “I too, agree with Mamoody,” said Fido.  “His request for forgiveness to me seemed very sincere.”

                “I must also agree,” added Dim Wad II, “His act of contrition to me, my people, my country, my intellect, my wives, and the dog he thought was a pet, were graciously said.”                             

                “The speech and the food are both excellent but we have yet to address your problems,” said Fido,  “Let us move along.  I would now like to hear how your President is planning to get around the disruption of tea drinking fundamentalists who care for the people.”

                “I would also like to know how you plan on pulling the eyelids from the sheep,” said Mamoody.

                Fido smiled with the patience of the elderly, “The phrase is, ‘Pulling the wool over the eyes,” he condescendingly spoke to Mamoody.

                “That is not how we do it,” came Mamoody’s reply.  “All he needs to do is call out the militia and shoot a few protestors while taking the rest hostage.”

                “My party does have some problems,” admitted Senator Hubris.  “I really don’t understand it, but there are a great number of people who are protesting our help in controlling their lives and livelihood.  They have no appreciation of what we are doing for them.”

                “I would have them shot,”  huffed Dim Wad II, corn spilling from his mouth.

                “That is a potential solution, but remember those Americans are armed,” said Fido.

                “Did you at least discredit the protestors?” asked Momoody.

                “Oh, yes.  We certainly did,” replied Hubris, “They got the full ‘Palin’ treatment and the news media joined in to show the few who could be viewed with some disdain.”

                “Few?  I thought there were thousands,” said Dim Wad II.

                Hubris showed frustration and even stopped eating for a moment, “There were thousands.  But they were orderly unless they got to yelling at some Senator.   Hell, there were thousands at the Alamo and they didn’t even step on the grass.”

                “Diabolically clever,” said Dim Wad II.  “Were they instructed to be polite by their leaders?”

                “No, that’s just the way they are,” said Hubris.   “It’s their nature to be polite but I liked them better when they were quiet, polite sheep.”

                “You can’t shoot them for stepping on the grass,” said Fido.

                “I have,” said Dim Wad II.

                “Commendable – may the infidel be buried under the dung of a hundred camels,” sang Mamoody.

                “He didn’t shoot Americans, Mamoody,” Fido informed the president, “He was shooting his own people.”

                “Oh, sorry,” apologized the president, “I misunderstood.  But I too, would shoot those protesters.  Especially the leaders.”

                “They don’t really have any leaders,” Hubris spit the words and some bits of caviar in reply.

                “You really do have a problem,” said Dim Wad II. “I never have such issues.  What you talk about doing with medical care, we do with food.   Ration the food to the elderly, and very young, and they will be too busy trying to find food to worry about medical care or budgets that are none of their concern.”

                “Thank you Dim,” said the Senator, “We are pursuing your suggestion in California.  We have already brought into being a huge and successful drought upon the largest and most productive, food generating  part of our country.  Saving a smelt, don’t you know?  The farmers are begging for food, heh,heh.”   

                “My Lord,” exclaimed Fido, “They let you get away with that?”

                “I told you they were stupid,” replied Hubris, “And, of course, we used lawyers.”

                “My people would eat the smelt, and there would be no issue,” said Dim Wad II.  “I complement you on the control of your populace. 

                “Yet these same people are protesting health care?” asked Mamoody.

                The Senator nodded his head in defeat.

                “Well, tell us what you have done so far, to gain control of your populace,” asked Dim Wad II.  “It cannot be all lost if you have them following the whims of lawyers.”

                “What seems to have worked for us so far is the divide and conquer methodology,” said Hubris pursing his lips around a shrimp.

                “Class warfare is an old trick,” observed Dim Wad II.

                “Well we all do class distinctions, of course, but we add an additional racial front that guarantees a division of everyone,” began Hubris.           

                “You are all American scum, are you not,” offered Mamoody twisting his head to see the reactions of the other enlightened leaders.

                “Absolutely not,” Hubris almost shouted.  “We have successfully fooled people into believing they are African American, Irish American, Latin American, Polish American, and the list goes on and on.  We further split them up by political parties and give out labels of left and right.”

                “Oh, I see it, but then, I always knew,” said Fido.  “They are all led to believe they must overcome each other in order to succeed.  No one knows the truth and most are too lazy to look beyond the proffered propaganda.”

                “Yes, that is pretty much the basics, admitted Senator Hubris. “We keep our sheep in small groups that we manage by taking from one group and giving to another,” he explained further and noted that Mamoody’s head was nodding in agreement.  “We get the groups to hate each other and feel victimized by social differences and then we promise fairness and compensation to both sides – from both sides.  Of course they never get it and can be led like little woolies fleeing the bark of a dog.”

                “You use race and color,” said Fido, “But I would have thought that any schooled populace would easily see through such foolishness.  Surely no group could remain so unintelligent for so long.”

                “We also have controlled the schools for years,” replied Hubris, “That is how they first get indoctrinated.  We educate them to be indifferent and lazy,  and  our success used to be quite apparent.  We just might have to do something about private schools.”

                “No people could be so brainless,” disagreed Dim Wad II.  “You had better call out your militia before the people rise up.  I know fear to be the best controlling force.”

                “Well, they may fear you,” said Hubris. “That is good for our military and allows us to build up forces for internal  intelligence and external destruction.  But in response to your question Fido  – we are that stupid, and I am proud to say our congressional progress has kept our people stupid for decades.  We have promised the same B.S for years and although we never deliver, unless it supports a re-election, the sheep never catch on and, as a result, they fall for the same B.S. over and over again.     Most sheep, especially Hollywood sheep, believe anything we tell them and they pass or force it down the throats of everyone else.  Of course, we do change history to prove our correctness, if necessary.   But lately, while we are on this path to socialism with a benevolent fascist regime, some of these damned tea parties are causing consternation, and some of the sheep are deserting the flock.”

                “See, I knew no people could remain so stupid for so long a time.  If they realized they were one people they might overthrow your influence, ” said Fido.

                “Oh, who would we have to hate then?”  Both Dim Wad and Mamoody looked scared.

                “I assure you, they will never realize they are all Americans – they are much too stupid, too gullible, and too ‘victimized’ to ever realize their potential,” promised the good Senator.

                “Then why worry,” offered Dim Wad II, “Just keep lying to them and they will continue to bite their rumps and go in circles.”

                “Your smears against any potential leaders, seems to work pretty well, and I can only watch on black and white television,” said Fido.

                “But some of these upstarts are overcoming the smears,” confessed Hubris.  “It is frightening to see citizens reacting to the truth.  We will probably weather this storm of enlightenment, but think of all the re-elections we could lose, not to mention the opportunity to make fortunes.”

                “There is only one thing for you to do, then,” said Fido.  “You need a crisis.”

                “We could get together and create a ‘crisis’ for you, my friend,” offered Mamoody.

                “A good crisis will let you get away with anything – you could jail the tea drinking demonstrators,” said Dim Wad II.  “Or just shoot their leaders.”

                They all agreed.  A good crisis, something threatening global destruction would be a nice tactic and if anything went wrong, they could always start over after the radiation cooled.  They all had safe places to go and they knew, somehow, a few sheep always managed to survive such calamities; so the herds could be rebuilt.

                “Hey, Mamoody, why don’t you put some missiles on my paradise island?” offered Fido.

                “That sounds like a great crisis, Fido,” said Hubris with a real tear in his eye.  “I can’t thank you enough for understanding.”

                “It’s all right, Senator,” said Fido.  “We are glad to help – and soon your country will be like ours.”

                “Do not worry, my friend, ” promised Mamoody, “We will help you become one with us, the Almighty willing, bless his name, and blessings upon your Obubba.”

                “Now, I might like to put some missiles on your island too, Fido,” asked Dim Wad II.  “What do you say?”

                “Surely there is room for all your missiles; and I have a friend in Venezuela who might be interested in hosting some test sites, as well,” replied Fido magnanimously.

                “I am overwhelmed with gratitude, my friends,” bubbled Senator Hubris.

                “You are welcome,” they all said in unison as another course of food was delivered.  They ate their fill and made small talk.  The comradeship was enjoyed by all until their individual travel schedules  demanded an ending to the Summit.

                The Senator emotionally shook the hands of each dictator as they waddled from the room.

                “Fine repast, Senator Hubris,” said Dim Wad II, “I’ll grab some hostages and you can come to my place and visit as an excuse to free them.”

                The Senator nodded tearfully.

                “I have some new DVD’s we can watch together,” added Dim Wad II.

                “I’ll bring some Chop House steaks,” offered Hubris, overjoyed to see Dim Wad II smile broadly.

                “Glad to be able to help you out, Comrade,” Fido shook the Senator’s hand warmly.

                “Fear not, Senator Hubris.  Soon, my friend, The Almighty’s missiles will be moved close to your shores,” said a smiling Mamoody as he shook hands.

                “Please Y’all; thank you, thank you so much –  and just call me Barney,” The thankful Senator waved to the entourage as a twinge of familiarity and awe tingled up his leg.


Written by poyhonen

May 5, 2010 at 8:42 am

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