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'Til Debt Do Us Part

Aug. 4, 2011
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I'm Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain'a? So listen, can't pony up much of a chock-jammed essay for you's this week on account of having to meet the fellas up over by the Uptowner tavern/charm school, so's we can make our plans for getting to the premiere of the new Apes Planet movie, I kid you not.

But I got to tell you, even if this movie is Oscar-worthy, it won't seem like a genuine Apes movie to me without Chuck Heston in it. Talk about a guy with a style. I don't want to say the guy brought a curious quality of woodenness to his characters, but whereas most of your actors put on some makeup before doing a scene, Chuck would slap on a fresh coat of varnish and be ready for action, what the fock.

And speaking of species of lesser intelligence, I just heard the news that our nation's elected leaders and followers have finally gotten around to agreeing to pay our bills after all. But let me tell you's before you rush out to buy party hats and confetti, you ought to know that the way they agreed to agree will also keep the economy in the crapper 'til the cows come home to roost. Yeah, focking swell.

Anyways, our Tea Party reprehensitives' refusal to acknowledge the moral and ethical responsibility of paying one's debts reminds me of a little story:

So this guy rubs a genie out of a lamp who says he'll grant the guy one wish. “I want to live forever,” the guy says. “No can do,” genie says. “I'm not allowed to grant wishes like that.”

“Dang. OK, then I wish that I want to die after Congress gets their heads out of their asses,” the guy says.

“You crafty bastard,” says the genie.

Come to think of it, here, smack-dab in the middle of my gala 25th year whipping out essays for this Shepherd, I'm remembering that I already had an idea to soothe our debt crisis, now and forever. Remember that “War on Drugs” you don't hear much about these days even though it's still raging like gunfire? If I'd been president, I could've settled that war in one day, not to mention giving all gangbanging drug fiends a legitimate reason to flush all their handguns down the toilet for keeps. I simply would've signed a peace treaty the first day that stipulated all drugs to be legal. I'd let the people have the drugs, right over the counter at a tiny mark-up over cost, but slap a Dr. Feelgood tax for the government on the drugs. Bye-bye deficit. Condos and luxury automobiles for everybody.

And there'd still be more than enough dough to provide our schools and our teachers the lush life on Easy Street. But let's not forget about a thing or two about this education stuff everybody's always crying about. And that is some people are just plain stupid, period. No matter what the fock you try to lecture into their heads, they will just never, ever be able to recall those symbols on your periodic table of elements; recall the slightest detail about that Treaty from Ghent; or recall, much less reconnoiter, any of those tunes by Anton Brückner.

Now maybe that some people are going to be just plain stupid is not altogether the worst thing in the world, 'cause somebody's got to mop the floor; somebody's got to stand charge of the games-of-skill at carnival midways; somebody's got to represent the former Confederate states in Congress; ain'a?

I believe there is one thing that can be done to combat this rampant stupidness submerging us all around, and that is for smart people of all colors, creeds and class to simply have more focking kids and raise the species IQ curve. Sure, call me a “smartist,” big focking deal. I feel firmly that smart people need to get together on a one-on-one basis and do their parts for the sake of a brighter future.

If we had a Homo sapien species of way smarter members, we could all save a lot of dough in taxes for education 'cause smarter people wouldn't have to spend so much time in school. So as president, I'd declare a “War on Stupidness,” a war on the debilitating double-digit quotient of intelligence. I'll even put my mouth where my money ought to be and be the first to enlist. In fact, consider me the commander-in-chief. And the only way to lead is through focking example. This war needs volunteers. If you're smart, if you're female, if you believe we need a smarter (and better-looking, what the fock) human race, I'm looking for you 'cause I'm Art Kumbalek and I told you so.


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