A BUM RAP

        In some of the older cemeteries you can find some interesting and sometimes humorous writings called epitaphs on the gravestones, like this one:
        HERE LIES THE BODY OF OUR ANNA,
        DONE TO DEATH BY A BANANA.
        IT WASN'T THE FRUIT THAT LAID HER LOW
        BUT THE SKIN OF THE THING THAT MADE HER GO.
        Former presidents all had their health and welfare problems. Gerald Ford seemed to get himself tripped up; Jimmy Carter had his killer rabbit; Ronald Reagan kept falling asleep; Poppa Bush excelled at projectile barfing and Bill Clinton broke a leg.

        The media went wild over their human frailties, especially over Clinton's. Nearly every talking head immediately assumed he was alcohol impaired, even though he had no history of drunkenness.

        EL ERROR TIENE LA VICTORIA,
        PERO LA VERDAD TIENE LA ESPERANZA
        (Error has the victory, but Truth has the hope)
        But what a difference when the present White House occupant (who never met a bottle he didn't love until, he says, he found Jesus) lost a bout with a pretzel. He claimed that a piece got stuck in his throat and stopped his heart causing him to fall to the floor.

        Most of the media became incensed if anyone suggested that it wasn't the couch he fell off from but the wagon. They acted as if they had witnessed the event along with the dogs. Dogs that Bush said just lay there and looked at him funny.

        UNDER THE SOD AND UNDER THE TREES
        LIES THE BODY OF JONATHAN PEASE -
        HE IS NOT HERE, THERE'S ONLY HIS POD.
        PEASE SHELLED OUT AND WENT TO HIS GOD.
        Bush's pretzel explanation doesn't pass the giggle test and neither does the dog's reaction to their owner's crash to the floor. Maybe they were chewing on their own doggy treat pretzels at the time, but even then most dogs we know would be all over their flattened owner -- lapping and slobbering and wagging tails.

        They might think he was playing with them or they might be trying to get some spilled pretzels. They certainly would be startled by the crash of his fall and curious as to what their owner was doing on the floor.

        HERE LIETH W.W.
        WHO NEVER MORE WILL
        TROUBLE YOU, TROUBLE YOU.
        Whatever the reaction of the dogs, the pretzel is getting a bum rap and has joined the cigar as an item of derision and vulgar humor. This is very unfair to an innocuous chew-toy that has served humankind for many years as a salty and crunchy companion to a bottle of beer.

        The spin from the Casa Blanca attempts to rehabilitate Bush by appealing to the many males who sit in front of the TV watching sports, drinking beer and eating pretzels. It's an enticement to their baser nature and meant to make them think, "He's one of us, just another good sport. Jeez, watta guy - took on a carpet all by himself!"

        HERE LIE, STILL LYING, THE "APPOINTED" BUSHIES,
        ARROGANCE KNOCKED THEM ON THEIR TUSHIES.
        THEY FOLLOWED OIL-SOAKED TWINKLING STARS
        IN SECRET TRYSTS WITH CORPORATE CZARS,
        DIDDLED WITH OSAMA, GOT LAYED BY ENRON
        BY '02 THEY'LL BE GOING -- AND IN '04 GONE!

        twanda@gendergappers.org       

        2002-004

        Copyright 2002 Renee T. Louise and Ruth M. Sprague, Ph.D. These articles may be republished for noncommercial use only, provided that they are copied intact, and that this copyright notice is attached. Address all queries to: twanda@gendergappers.org.

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