ISSN: 1391 - 0531
Sunday January 13, 2008
Vol. 42 - No 33

It's a jungle out there

By free verse

It's very easy to forget that your friend ate a spider when your other friend has eaten an entire ant farm. Easy to forgive your boyfriend for leaving the toilet seat up after he forgets to brush his teeth, on the day you introduce him to your parents. If you're going to rob a bank, burn down the building; do you think, after that, anyone will care that it was robbed?

My friend (let's call him Alf) was drag racing along an undeveloped road located in the hills, where "off road" meant "precipice." When he lost control and swerved onto his left to avoid oncoming traffic, the car half-bounced and half-rolled into a residential area off the road, beyond the rocks and past the trees. Houses were broken, small trees were flattened and the car was unrecognizable as any mode of transport. Basically it looked like God had eaten an entire rainforest and spat out the contents where he saw fit.

What the police failed to notice was that Alf was completely intoxicated. He had won a seven shot tequila race before he started to drive; but he made a clean break, after being advised to drive slower the next time.

The moral of this story seems to be sung as the National Anthem in a far away land, where deception leads and corruption reigns. A beautiful tropical island, known as the Nugget of the Brownie Sea, is peaceful except for a conflict starring a minority rebel group named "Rabid Squirrels" who wanted their own fruitcake, so to speak. Welcome to Tea Republic, the land of the sly.
The Government of Tea Republic (GoTR) is making a tremendous effort to relieve the country of this war. In this epic struggle, the administration has wasted time it didn't have, sacrificed the future of the youth and kicked the country down an economical black hole, hoping the next King's soldiers will put it back together again.

Recently, a controversial media institution that favored the Rabid Squirrels was completely destroyed by the country's air force "Airborne Penguins." Several journalists died, which allowed various INGOs label the incident as a "war crime" and express their heavy disapproval. Four weeks passed. Yet, journalists across the island found it difficult to flush the memory of the War Crime from their mind. One sunny morning, flanked by her noteworthy entourage of mobsters, drug dealers and murder suspects and armed with language that would make rap star blanch, non cubbyhole ministress Miss Marlene Silver rushed to the state owned television station. She was completely mortified that the aforementioned television channel had failed to broadcast her Prom Queen speech and fully intended to give those responsible a piece of her mind.

She met with the editor, who calmly told her that her speech, as lucid as it was, was not newsworthy. Enraged by this response and armed with blessings of his honourable president, Miss Silver took off the left of her last season's Manolo Blahniks and started beating him senseless.

The TV crew, outraged by her behavior, turned into an angry mob that tried to cause her bodily harm. The meek Miss Silver, a victim of severe "misunderstanding," tore like heck across the building and hid in an office. The rest is history as they say. This incident caused many a journalist to roll on the floor in uncontrollable mirth and erased the memory of the ominous War Crime which transpired a month ago.

As Romeo Silver – the love child of Miss Silver– started to make headlines for his passionate attempts to unfreeze his true love from a block of ice, GoTR struggled to uphold their image as the Supreme Country Bumpkins of the Universe to the villagers who were simply too conservative to understand such amorous actions.

Since villagers –the foundation of the government – were averse to the notion that their bumpkin rulers had way too much money that their kids spent on sculpting tools, something had to be done, and soon. Head Bumpkin and Supreme Tyrant decided then to shed his royal threads and plow the fields.

Following an ancient custom inherited from the kings where the ruler of the land first plowed the field to begin the sowing season, Chief Bumpkin Extraordinaire hiked up his sarong and stepped in a 12 inches of sludge and led a buffalo drawn plough to do the first plowing of the season. All to erase the memory of young Romeo, who was now trapped in a high tower guarded by troll beings.

Picture this: It's Friday night and you are intoxicated to the point of blindness. If the cops catch you, even your grandchildren are going to be born in jail. But don't try the Tea Republican Philosophy on the road. You're not a bumpkin.

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