Dicktaters

An Emperor's work is never done.

Source Unknown 

This weekly column consists of letters written to my perspicacious progeny — the Stickies — to advise 'em now and haunt them after I'm deleted.

Trigger Warning: This column is rated SSC-65: Sexy Seasoned Citizens   

About 

Glossary 

Featuring {Dana}: Persistent auditory hallucination and charming literary device

"Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past." -George Orwell 

Dear Stickies (and gentlereaders),  

Consider the plight of the Chinese historians currently writing, rewriting, and then rewriting, and then...well, you can clearly see where this is going even if the scholars involved can't. 

An article in the Wall Street Journal, China Repackages Its History In Support of Xi's National Vision, is where I discovered that Mr. Xi (aka Emperor Poo Win Nie) has taken it upon himself to oversee the current dynasty's fulfillment of a Chinese tradition, writing the history of the previous dynasty.

{Considering how often, relatively speaking, China changes emperors and direction these days, can the current era even be considered a dynasty and what will it be called?} 

You make a good point, Dana. Perhaps it will be called the Mao dynasty in honor of the psychopath who got the whole "socialism with Chinese characteristics" thing rolling... although he had a radically different set of characteristics in mind than the ones currently in fashion. 

Hmmm...I wonder if his corpse is still on display?

{Say what?}

Hang on, I'll be right back...

Oh yeah, Chairman Mao's corpse is still proudly displayed in a custom-made display case that would make your favorite supermarket's meat department proud, and is housed in a custom-made mausoleum. Various and sundry sources...

{The "columnist" favors us, yet again with a various and sundry.}

Harumph. Various and sundry sources on the Uh-huh! Nuh-uh! net (aka the internet, aka the worldwide web of all knowledge)...

{AI's gonna fix that!}

...report that our still well-fed-looking prince of the downtrodden peasantry...

{I wonder if they stuffed him?}

...is still drawing crowds of tourists. Grunge.com has a detail-packed article that includes fascinating tidbits like "...underneath him is a refrigerator. At night, Mao's body is lowered into it."

If you're in the market for a custom-made/designed mausoleum you might find this article at Mausaleums.com (ETERNAL MUASALEUMS™ BY FOREVER LEGACY) useful although ETERNAL MUASALEUMS™ had nothing to do with Chairman Mao's custom-built display case as far as I can tell.

For purposes of giving credit where credit is due, the article was written by Belinda McCleod, "...Belinda has specialized in writing for the funeral industry. Belinda has written for Cake, a funeral-planning website, nursing homes, mausoleum companies, cremation companies, and funeral homes."

The article is accompanied by a hilarious video that I suspect proves that no one from ETERNAL MUASALEUMS™ proofread it, or that someone who works there has a sense of humor.

 

And we're back.  

{I'm impressed, as far as your famous pointless but mildly entertaining meandering digressions go, this may be a personal best.}

Thanks, Dana. Anyways... 

When I first heard about Emperor Poo Win Nie tirelessly taking on yet another task, ensuring that the world understands that what looks like an insatiable appetite for expanding the size of the Middle Kingdom by laying claim to various and sundry countries, islands, and vast swaths of the South China Sea, at least from a barbarian's perspective...

<the writer inhales>

Is actually just China making sure the modern world understands that since they are an ancient country with deep historical roots that's been (often successfully) laying claim to/stealing/or conquering various and sundry countries, islands, and vast swaths of the South China Sea for thousands of years...

There's nothing to see here folks, move along everybody.  

I ordered my research department to look into it and submit a report summarizing the situation via an easily and quickly digestible report.

What landed on my desk not quite three months later, along with an expense report detailing how they had managed to spend $339,933.53 while traveling around the Far East to gather data, was the following report.

The Emperor has personally intervened in a hooge (better than 100 volumes, so far) ongoing, seemingly never-ending project, to write the official history of the previous dynasty, the Qing, which collapsed early in the last century.

It ain't easy to rewrite history to fit modern, often shifting narratives, it's hard out here for a dicktater. As if holding sham elections, having your enemies murdered (semi-plausible deniability route or bring the hammer down?), and inventing rationalizations for conquering your neighbors ain't tough enough. 

Imagine having to make sure that not only the story of the previous dynasty is told in such a way as to justify this, that, or even that other thing but also having to keep an eye on what the minions in the street are saying about the previous 5,000 or so years. 

Now if I was a dick-tater...

{And not just another di...}

I'd steal a half billion or so and get out of Dodge, but I don't think they do it just for the money and the chicks. 

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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Little Men With Little Feet

Image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating meltdown.  

About 

Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Hallucination, guest star, and charming literary device  

"I am not a woman, so I don't have bad days." -Vladimir Putin

Dear Stickies and Gentlereaders,

My late wife's grandmother, whom I never met (I've been told this is not necessarily a bad thing) because she was my late wife's, late grandmother by the time I came along...

{There's something really, really wrong with you, you know that, right?}

...is famous for, among other things, advising that one should avoid short men with small feet. She thought that men of diminutive dimensions could not be trusted. 

I have no firm opinion to offer as to whether or not encountering a little man with little feet is necessarily indicative of anything, but I have personally known several short gentlemen in my life that, if given the chance, I'd cross the street to avoid encountering. 

In my defense, I don't automatically assume that short men, anyone actually, should be avoided based on their physical appearance with the exception of anyone carrying a machete or a machine gun while hanging out at the mall. 

I take 'em as I find 'em. I pride myself on attempting to maintain an open mind at all times. I'm willing to interact with anyone, for at least a minute or two, before going to DEFCON 1. 

Also, I don't think that most problematic short men are overcompensating for their height, I think they're more likely to be burdened by a shoulder chip that is the result of having been physically bullied by men and psychologically bullied by women as they were coming up.

I once met Dick Goddard "an American television meteorologist, cartoonist, and animal activist." He was the creator of the Cleveland area's world-famous Wollybear (caterpillar) Festival. You may have never heard of him but he's (regionally) famous enough to have his own Wikipedia entry.   

{What's that got to do with anything?}

Well, he is, or was (he's now the late Dick Goddard) a very small man with very small feet who was perfectly proportioned from head to toe. This was rather shocking to me because when my late wife and I watched him "do" the weather on Cleveland's channel 8 there was no way to discern his diminutiveness.

{I still don't see what...} 

Well, he was as nice in person as he appeared to be on TV. Also, maintaining a reputation as an all-around nice guy in a blue-collar metro area like Cleveland, Ohio — a city wherein a river used to regularly catch on fire that's now knee-deep in rust — would be tough to fake.   

This brings us to the Pooteen.

{Who? It does?}

I speak of Vladamir Putin, Dana. Who, it turns out, is a relatively little fella.

He's not even all that short, being either 5'-6" or 5'-7", depending on who ya believe. That's about the same size as America's favorite fighter pilot, Tome Cruise. But I recently saw a picture in which the Pooteen and some of his minions are celebrating annexing a chunk of Ukraine. He looks like he would've been the last kid picked when the other kids were choosing up sides to play basketball.  

I don't know his shoe size but I can't help but wonder if Mrs. Pooteen's little Vladdy, who began his working life as a KGB agent and rose through the ranks to become a world-famous brutal and corrupt dicktater, was picked on by the boys and rejected by girls back in the day:

-  From Wikipedia, "At age 12, he began to practice sambo and judo. In his free time, he enjoyed reading the works of Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, and Lenin."

-  He's well known for photo ops in which he appears without his shirt. 

-  He's also well known for breaking into his neighbor's houses countries, folks who would just like to be left alone to pursue happiness as they define it, and breaking things just because he can. 

- Also, he...

{The breadth and depth of your scholarship are truly impressive.}

I'm just sayin'. If it walks like a duck...

Fortunately for his fellow young communists, little Vladdy didn't start killing his enemies, real and imagined, till after he matured, at least as far as we know. 

Unfortunately for the planet Earth, little Vladdy is now aging Vladdy; H. sapiens and chimpanzees share a common ancestor; the Pooteen is the boss of a nation with 6,300 nukes, and history seems to bear out the truth of Lord Acton's observation that "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

Brothers and sisters (and others), let us pray.

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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Dicktaters

A diggin' the dictaters/news you might've missed column

Image by Here and now, unfortunately, ends my journey on Pixabay from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted. Reading via monitor/tablet is recommended for maximum enjoyment.  

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Intended for H. sapiens that are — in the words of the late, great bon vivant and polymath, Professor Y. Bear — "Smarter [and cooler] than the av-er-age bear." 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"I'm not a dictator. It's just that I have a grumpy face." -Agusto Pinochet

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

Once there was a blogger from Belarus... Dicktaters can grow, and thrive, just about anywhere. The bully that runs Belarus uses MiG-29 fighter jets to swat flies. Now that's a dicktater.

Alexander Lukashenko, a Pooteen protege, is an OG dicktater whose territory, Belarus, the alleged Republic of Belarus, butts up against/was part of the now officially disbanded USSR.        

{And we care about this because?...}

He ordered a MiG-29 to intercept an Irish passenger plane that was flying from Athens to Vilnius, Lithuania. 

{I think I heard something about that...}

The pilot was told there was a bomb on the plane by Belarusian air traffic controllers, and that it might be activated over Vilnius. The pilot was also told to divert to Minsk, in Belarus, and then a MiG-29 was graciously dispatched to escort the plane.  

Fortunately, no bomb was found. 

Belarus said they had no choice, that someone from Hamas, a spinoff of the religion of peace, had emailed them that a bomb was on board. Guilty conscience I guess.  

Alex the Not So Great says the email came from Switzerland, which as everyone knows, is lousy with Hamas social clubs. The Swiss confirmed that somebody sent an email, oddly, 24 minutes after the plane was ordered to land in Belarus.

Not for nothin'...

{Not for nothin'?} 

Not for nothin', in what might turn out to be the coinkydink of the year, it was discovered that Roman Protasevich, whose cover story is that he's a humble but lovable journalist and blogger self-exiled to Lithuania, was on that plane. He was on a list, compiled by Belarus's KGB, of individuals involved in terrorist activities.

The evil blogger, and his Lithuanian college student girlfriend, were tossed in the pokey. 

Mr. Protasevich was so racked with guilt about being a terrorist that he immediately came clean. His video confession was broadcast on television 24 hours later to a relieved/grateful Belarus. 

He's been charged with the horrific crime of organizing protests, from Lithuania, over the alleged election fraud perpetrated by Alex the Not So Great in Belarus's last presidential election in 2020.

Alex the Not So Great is a very popular public servant. He's been repeatedly reelected president and has been in charge of Belarus for 26 years.

Meanwhile, in the Middle Kingdom, Xi Dada, the current emperor of China, continues to try and out Orwell Orwell. 

Ethnic cleansing, enslaving the Uyghurs, swallowing Tibet whole, mass surveillance, eteceterance — well sure — but eventually, a smart dicktater figures out that rewriting history serves multiple purposes.     

 

It not only helps to keep the sheep in their pens, aid in the never-ending process of indoctrination, and influence future generations of sheep, it might even help if a given dicktater finds themselves on trial in the Hague someday for crimes against humanity.

{What are you?...}

I just discovered that Xi Jinping set up something called the Chinese Acadamy of History a couple of years ago (sorry, I'm running behind, keeping up with the Kardashians is exhausting) in order to (according to the Wall Street Journal), "...counter negative views of the ruling Communist Party's Past."

How he resisted calling it the Ministry of Truth I'll never know. 

{Doesn't netiquette call for a link to the WSJ?}

Well, their well-built paywall is very tall, so...

Anyways, it's been officially announced via a social media post, that the vicious story that Mao Anying — son of the world (in)famous Mao Zedong (who murdered more people than Hitler and Stalin put together) — got himself deleted by an airstrike in the Korean war when he fired up a stove to make egg fried rice is pure bonkercockie. 

This was discovered after an in-depth investigation of the events of roughly 70 years ago. Turns out that radio transmissions from Anying's commander's H.Q. inadvertently led to Anying getting blown to bits.

“These rumormongers have tied up Mao Anying with egg fried rice, gravely dwarfing the heroic image of Mao Anying’s brave sacrifice. Their hearts are vicious.”

They also discovered that Teddy Kennedy fired the kill shot from the grassy knoll and was an undercover assassin working as a cook in the kitchen of the Ambassador hotel.   

{I don't get that obscure reference, waaay too much ancient history for my taste.}

Easily googled if you're interested.

{You're aware that Keeping up the Kardashians has been canceled, right?}

I try not to think about it. I have a ways to go before I'm caught up and I'm cautiously optimistic that there will be splendiferous spin-offs and specials. 

Addendum — On a related note:

If you're worried because China's navy is now larger than ours, 

And,

Xi Dada, in a speech commemorating the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (the CCP, in Tiananmen Square of all places) while wearing his Mao jacket, declared that anyone who messes with China, "...shall be battered and bloodied from colliding with a great wall of steel forged by more than 1.4 billion Chinese people using flesh and blood.,"

Well, at least the US still leads in rapping. 

A 15-minute rap that includes 100 different CCP approved rappers extolling the "Chinese Dream" (yeah, that's a thing) face planted and was disappeared faster than a pro-democracy demonstrator prior to the birthday bash.

     

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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