Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Why Sogwa should be President; chapter 1



Dear Blog: Now that we are in the run-up to both Halloween and the Presidential election; and now that a gigantic storm has hit the country, I run this story that I wrote years ago, about Bush, Katrina and Sogwa; “Why Sogwa should be President”. It’s a political thriller starring my daughter’s old favorite cat doll. Its theme is the importance of getting your sums straight. I’ll blog it a chapter a weekday for six weekdays.

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Why Sogwa should be President

            Chapter One. Absent Without Leave.

            Once upon a time, the world was upside down. The best lacked all conviction, and the worst were full of passionate intensity. The people at the bottom of the world felt cramped and restless; their souls yearned to rise and expand, but there was a ceiling in the sky, and no way through. The people on top of the world felt cold, heavy and small, and they secretly yearned to fall; but the fix was in, the plans were laid, so up they stayed.
            The coldest, heaviest, and smallest person of all was the one called Boy King, Fortunate Son, Smiter of Evil-Doers, Shield against Frightful Persons, Homeland Defender, Scourge of Infidels, Lord Protector, Dear Leader, and World Emperor; and he was also called Chimpy. He could not lose, no matter how hard he tried, and he tried very hard.
            Thus the whole world was suspended, as if on the edge of a great wet sneeze, one which tickles the nose, but not enough to happen. So things stayed for a long, long time.

            Then a falling star punched a hole through the ceiling in the sky, and a dark angel flew through. The dark angel was named Coreena, and she was a daughter of Mother Nature herself.
            Coreena had stormy eyes that flashed at the sound of lies; Coreena had wings to fly above the clouds. She was a whirlwind, she was turbulence, with giant emotions, and a giant’s strength, and a giant’s carelessness. Coreena was Trouble with a capital T.

            She waded in from the ocean. Ten miles tall, she towered over the City of Olde Phillippe. All who could, fled; the rest hid. Coreena swept through the streets of the city, frowning at everybody she saw. She shattered the streetlamps, shorted the power, and silenced the phones. Mighty was her fury and vast was her wrath. Her shield was the thunderhead; her sword was the lightning. In a voice of sounding brass, she roared, “WHEAH IS CHIMPEE?”

            Coreena ransacked the City of Olde Phillippe in search of Chimpy. She tore down trees, but Chimpy wasn’t in them. She knocked over trucks and blew in windows, but no Chimpy. She turned whole houses inside-out; still no Chimpy. She roared, “WHEAH IS HE?”
            The people of Olde Phillippe said, “He ain’t heah, ma’am!”
            But Coreena was was rattled by her own roar, and she could not hear. She howled, “HE DONE MA MOMMA WRONNNNNGG!”
            She tore holes in the roof of the stadium. Her angry eye glared at the people cowering within; but none of them was Chimpy. She bellowed, “WHEAH YOU HIDIN’ HIM?”
            “We ain’t got no Chimpy, ma’am!” the people of Olde Phillippe cried, but she was crazy with anger, and she would not listen.
            Coreena tolled, “HEY HEY HEY, IT’S JUDGEMENT DAY!”
            Coreena executed Judgement on the City of Olde Phillippe. She did it with thunder, with lightning, with blasts of wind and with torrents of rain. In her rage she burst the levee, and the river gushed through. It flooded the city, bearing mud and sewage and toxic chemicals and the bodies of the drowned. The city sank beneath the sludge.
            Thus Olde Phillippe was destroyed; but Coreena remained dissatisfied. She blew away over the horizon, still grumbling “WHEAH IS CHIMPEE?”
            The people of Olde Phillippe were now all exiles, every man, woman and child. Their homes were drowned under a deep pond full of toxic sludge; and the Exiles of Olde Phillippe called that pond Lake Chimpy, in honor of the Emperor.

            For where was Chimpy? That is what the Exiles of Olde Phillippe wanted to know. The Boy King, Fortunate Son, Smiter of Evil-Doers, Shield against Frightful Persons, Homeland Defender, Scourge of Infidels, Lord Protector and Dear Leader; where was the World Emperor? This was just the sort of fearsome catastrophe that he had vowed to protect us from; so where was he? He had promised help, where was it?
            They waited for him to send help. They waited and waited. The air was hot and damp, and there was no clean water, or food, or beds, or toilets, and people were hurt, and people were sick, and people were dying, and they needed help, right this very instant, now, now, now!
            All the Emperor’s Humvees and all the Emperor’s men awaited his orders. Eagerly they revved their engines, and readied themselves, needing only the Emperor’s single word to come charging to the rescue, bearing food and water and medicine and doctors and beds and help.
            They waited... and waited... and waited...
            A day came and went, and people died. The oldest and the youngest died first. A second day came and went, and people died. They died of heat, and thirst, and hunger, and sickness, and for lack of medicine. A third day came and went, and people died horrible deaths on global TV, waiting for the Emperor to act. And as they waited, people asked, “Where is the Emperor?”

            Where was he? On vacation. He was resting up. He had more important things to do than saving people’s lives. He was goofing off, taking it easy, recharging his batteries, letting the good times roll. The Emperor was slacking on the job, just when he was needed most.

            If anybody else had messed up that bad, then they’d soon be unemployed. They’d be fired; but not Chimpy! He just stayed where he was, as if nothing had happened!

            That was infuriating, so Sogwa the supercat decided to do something about it.     



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