Immigration Reform: Mas More Inaction, Gracias!

We need more of nothing, thank you.

T WAS A DANGEROUS WEEK IN WASHINGTON, something almost got done. At least I think something almost got done. Like many citizens I was trying to tune to the Immigration Reform broadcast, but there was so much interference coming in from a pirate broadcast of yet another episode of The Vagina Monologues I had to switch off the receiver and get my reports third hand.

From these I understand that, although nothing got done again in Congress this week, it was "the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life" .

As the week that wasn't rolled along in the ant farm of Congress, a joke and a lyric kept running through my little head.

The joke was, "I bought an ant farm. Watched it for three months and I want my money back. Those ants didn't raise shit."

The lyric was a variation of the Talking Heads "Heaven" that went like this:

Everyone is trying to get to the bar.
The name of the bar, the bar is called Congress.
The bozos in Congress sing my favorite song.
They sing it once again, they sing it all night long.

Congress is a place
a place where nothing ever happens.
Congress is a place
a place where nothing ever happens.

But this morning, while shaving and humming that tune, I thought, "Nothing happening in Congress? Why is that a bad thing? Nothing is what almost always happens in Congress. When nothing happens in Congress, all Americans should rejoice. When something actually does happen in Congress is when we all need to increase our holdings of canned goods and ammunition.

"Congress is the one area of the economy where wise Americans should insist on dependably declining productivity. After all, it is not as if we've got a critical shortage of laws and legislation in the country. We've got laws, legislation, and regulations that, piled up into an all-American heap of "Made in America" bullshit, make all the butter mountains of Europe combined look like a gnat's pimple.

"Our task as Americans is to make sure that even less gets done in Congress than the nothing that is currently being done.

"But how?" I asked myself.

"Self," said I, "how can patriotic Americans of every race, color, creed, national origin, or self-assigned gender, make sure, make certain to a quantum level of granulation, that Congress does less than nothing; that all accomplishment in Congress moves from Zero into negative numbers?"

And then it came to me like a revelation, like a bush bursting into flame, like a pillar of fire lighting my way out of the wilderness of potential congressional action into the Promised Land of utter congressional paralysis: Clone Cynthia McKinney!

Yes, it was then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God... the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized the Synthia® McKinney clones would be infinity squared more inconsequential than your average congressman. Because Synthias® would be able to hear themselves blather day after day without a scintilla of shame or self-consciousness. The Synthias® would not be just idiots... they would be cloned idiots, chips off the original blockhead, sports derived from the macromolecule of the primeval idiot. These would be clones who blathered from their ceaselessly heaving, eternally victimized hearts, who had oceans of blather to siphon up and spew, who were the parthogenetic children of the mother of all blather, who were filled with original spite... but they had the drool... the drool... to blather on whenever even so much as a Web-Cam was pointed vaguely in their direction. If I had ten of these clones our troubles with legislative creep and the creeps of the legislature would be over very quickly. You have to have politicians who are utterly ineffective... and at the same time who are able to utilize these primordial instincts to do less than nothing lest by doing something they lose their power to do nothing... without anything but the ambition to have ambition... without passing laws that will be enforced less than the present laws... without passing any legislation, only gas. Because it's legislation that always slips American citizens the high hard one from behind. -- **

"Yes, yes," I muttered, mad with the essential brilliance of the idea, "It is a perfect plan. Just look at what one Synthia® McKinney managed to do in only a week as the media tried in vain to direct the nation's carefully reduced attention span to an approval of 'Mas Millions More,' 'DeLay Departs with No Delay' and "Bush Leak-Lied!" It would have been a perfect trifecta for them, but instead that had to shuffle off stage left muttering Curses, foiled again! And all because just one Synthia® would not, nay could not ... Shut. Up."

"If only," I said to myself, I said. " If only we could clone Synthia® thousands of times and elect these clones to every Federal, State and Local legislative office from sea to shining sea -- and Guam -- our troubles would be over. Nothing would ever get done in Government again, and the only thing better than a government that governs less is a government that cannot govern at all. It will be mortgage second homes and house-trailers all over America in a year. Double-Wides on the house, so to speak. Springtime for innovation, the Second Coming of the Stock Market, our bongs will brimmeth over!"

But then I had a horrifying thought.

"Self, what with the evil BushHitler refusing to put a single debased-metal federal dime into stem cell research, thus forcing our mad scientists to go to the free market for funding, how can we clone Synthias® fast enough? And what if other countries like Japan and China get onto this idea and start cloning Synthias® first and faster. Will we be facing a Synthia® gap? Will we fall behind in the race to the future simply because other societies beat us to the Eden of Negative Government first? This cannot be allowed to happen. We must have massive numbers of Synthias® now. Where, oh where, shall we find them?

"Then it came to me that the answer was, as Sherlock Holmes would say, 'Simplicity itself.' Synthia® is, first and foremost, a 'Representative.' She 'represents' a constituency and as such that constituency, in order to elect her, must be very much like her. All we have to do is draft constituents out of her district and run them for every available seat in the 2006 elections. As soon as right-thinking citizens in this great land get a look at what a legislature of Synthias® can not do for them, our future is assured.

"Yes," I thought, "that is the answer. But time grows short. How can we possibly get all these proto-Synthias® to the elections on time?"

It was then I remembered that New Orleans is trying to auction off all those waterlogged school buses. I'm writing George Bush today to insist that he call Congress back into emergency session to pass a measure commandeering those buses. It's time Congress got something done, dammit!

Email this entry to:


Your email address:


Message (optional):

Posted by Vanderleun at April 8, 2006 10:19 AM | TrackBack
Save to del.icio.us