Richard Daybell – Novels, stories and short humor
Misreading their tea leaves into a mandate, The Tea Partiers merrily focus their Second Amendment guaranteed crosshairs on those they deem not to be true believers. There are targets aplenty. So naturally they go after their own. House Speaker John Boehner is cozying up to liberals. Let me repeat: John Boehner is cozying up to liberals. Representative Paul Ryan, whose economic master plan is to replace Medicare with a year’s supply of bandaids, use orphans to sweep the streets (they’re the brooms), and lower taxes for folks with yearly incomes over a million, is a wanton spendthrift. Utah Senator Orrin Hatch (take note, my Utah friends) is a RINO – Republican in Name only, a closet progressive.
Who are these people? (My apologies to any of my friends who are these people). From whence came they? They think of themselves more as a movement than a party even though they wear party hats – those tri-cornered things that make them look something like a founding father on a very bad day. They carry copies of the Constitution around with them, and if your name isn’t spelled out within it, you cease to exist in their world. Their inspiration is, of course, the Boston Tea Party, that iconic act of resistance that became a rallying point for everything from the American Revolution to the anti-caffeine lobby. As I recall, the Boston Tea Party was about taxation without representation not hating to give back any of the money this system allowed me to accumulate.
No, the allusion to the Boston Tea Party doesn’t work for me. Another tea party does come to mind however.
The Hatter, March Hare and Dormouse were crowded together at one corner of a large table. “No room,” they cried out when they saw Alice coming.
“There’s plenty of room,” said Alice indignantly, sitting down.
“Did you bring your birth certificate?” the March Hare asked.
“Of course not,” said Alice.
“Then how do we know you were born?”
“Because I’m here,” answered Alice.
“I’m not convinced,” said the March Hare. “Have some wine.”
Alice looked all around the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. “I don’t see any wine,” she remarked.
“There isn’t any,” said the March Hare. “And there’s no free lunch. Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps.”
“Your budget wants cutting,” said the Hatter. This was his first speech. “Why is Obama like a writing desk?”
“I give up,” Alice replied. “What’s the answer?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter.
Alice sighed. “I think you might better spend your time than wasting it asking riddles that have no answers.”
“Spend, spend,” said the Hatter. “Tax and spend. That’s all you liberals do.”
“Cut the budget,” said the March Hare.
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep, “Twinkle, twinkle, budget ax. How I wonder what it whacks.”
“Obamacare,” said the Hatter.
“Public radio,” said the March Hare.
“Planned Parenthood,” said the Hatter.
“The EPA,” said the March Hare.
“Why do you want to whack these things?” asked Alice, confused.
“Gays in the military, women’s rights and undocumented black presidents are going to bankrupt our grandchildren,” said the Hatter.
“That’s silly,” said Alice.
“What do you know?” retorted the March Hare. “You weren’t even born. You don’t have a birth certificate.”
“But people don’t carry their birth certificates around with them,” answered Alice.
“Then where’s your Constitution?” the Hatter demanded.
“I don’t carry that around either.”
“Then how do you know original intent?” said the Hatter.
“I don’t think – ”
“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear. She got up in great disgust and walked off. The others took no notice, but went back to citing the similarities between Hawaiian and Kenyan birth certificates.