16 March 2012

A Tomcat May Look at a Drama Queen


Dear Dr. Bones,

To borrow an analysis, sorta, from the good Prof. Dr. Freud: with this pajamaclad patient, phraseology is destiny.

His freelordship’s title an’ then the preliminary assistance to the prose-challenged


Betty Crocker, Drama Queen
(( Betty Crocker spots a cockroach on her angels’ food cake ))


ought to be a sufficient tip-off that the *real* problem with Whight-Wing Populism in Minnesota, as viewed from Château Hudson, anyway, and conceivably even _simpliciter_, is that there are a great deal too many shemales involved in it.

Paddy and I don’t know anything much about Woebegone Country, but perhaps one does not have to do much more than recall the well-chronicled adventures of the late Freelord Bachmanness, husband to Goodwife Marcus, and multiply by a couple of orders of magnitude.

As often happens, the patient is most interesting in its occasional lucid spells, when there is no queen bee in its bonnet an’ it can regale us with a backwoods version of "It is the dawning of the age of Breitbartius, Age of Breitbartius, Bright-BAAAAAAAAAAAAR-tee-yus!" There is (delightfully) no particular connection between "judicial reform" an’ "non-consensual audio recordings of meetings with legislators," or of either with the Monstruous Regiment.[2]

It (the Hudson neospecimen) is great only as an evidential anecdote, when it reflects, it is a child. ¡"Anti-activism", forsooth!

St. Sigmund of Vienna would presumably consider it a victim of its own _Unbewußte_. Were it in touch with its own deep hormonal foundations [3], aware that what its freelordship basically wants is for the Daughters of Virtue to be seen rather than heard from--an’ especially to leave all the political heavy liftin’ to the Sons of Wisdom, it would certainly never scribble a piece like this that makes what is really goin’ on in the Hudsonian dittopan so embarrassin’ly transparent.

And the moral of that is: you can’t properly cover something up if you are unwilling to look at it.

Happy days.

___
[1] When the other crutch drops, it turns out to be one of those pseudocartoons that would not exist without prose support.


Specimen Uncartoon
(( Specimen Uncartoon ))

Still, with prose like "¡Screw you guys, I’m goin’ home!" to work from, betcha no gendered analyst will complain much about the quality as graphic art.

__
[2] Betty Crocker (plus possibly Dr. Marcus) would probably object to that nifty hack-buggin’ scheme because that doesn’t seem like a nice way for goodvolks to behave. This brand of ‘nice’ I take to be almost all Class snobbery, very little to do with which hormones the hormone-basers go in for personally.

__
[3] Paddy and Eye just invented, or rather discovered, "hormonal foundations" over to here. There was not all that much left to do, really, once St. Elizabeth of Warrenbuffett had pointed out the


Vast Vistas of Intellectual Foundation
Vast Vistas of 'Intellectual Foundation'

that open before us.

(( I imagine Freelord Hudson pestered at Tee Putty covens by Her Beatitude’s invisible elder sister Prudence, who went North an’ Republicanine from OK rather than eastwards to Beltway City and Boston. ))

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