Archive for April 25th, 2013

Errand Boy, Sent By Grocery Clerks, To Collect A Bill

Here on this blog, we have previously considered the question of Texas.

And determined that that state’s sole reason to be is to provide a place to contain the full allotment of sand allocated—back in the planet-creating days of Slartibartfast—to the North American continent.

Pace the sand, there is simply no samreason for Texas to be.

And so, because there is No Reason, for Texas, other than sand, it is natural, these days, that when one considers an event out of Texas, the immediate reaction of any sentient homo sapien may quite probably be to reach out to grasp, as quickly as possible, the greatest possible gobs of opiates.

So as to Endure.

Because, without a mind soaked in opiates, there is simply no way to Understand, much less Accept, why Texas continues to Be.

Let us, for instance, regard the incredibly inbred yeehawed—and therefore quintessentially Texan—saga of the Marlow Brothers, back there in the Texas of 1888.

The full story is one that could only be properly presented by Sam Peckinpah . . . who is, alas, long dead.

And so here we must cut to the immediate for-these-purposes chase. Where Boone Marlow was poisoned by his sweetheart’s brother; his sweetie, unknown to her or to him, bringing to Boone the food that would kill him.

After Boone had expired, two bounty hunters—not among them his poisoner—pumped multiple gunshot rounds into his body.

So that they could collect the $1700 reward for his corpus.

Which they subsequently did.

However, when once federal authorities began belatedly beguining this typical Texas mischief, and tried to pin—quite rightly—the murderin’ deed on the original poisoner . . . well, said dude, who’d deliberately poisoned and killed Boone Marlow, claimed it weren’t him at all, that done killed dave and daddyBoone: the true dastardly murderin’ desperadoes were those who’d pumped the bullets into the corpse. And collected the re-ward.


I tell you this story, now, because the little slimy snotnose David Stockman, indisputably the chief rash run-amok economic asshole of the Reagan administration, is now, here, some 30-more years down the road, trying to claim, just like that Marlow-poisoner of 1888, that, he fer sure din’t do it, in this case din’t kilt the American economy—which he did—but it were instead them, who came after (Greenspan, Volker, Bush, Obama, etc.), who pumped the bullets into the already quiescent corpse, that really done kilt the guy.




When I Worked

April 2013
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