From: gwb
To: Hank Blakely
Sent: Sunday, May 12, 2002
Subject: Why they don't give a rat
There's a writer -- can't remember who, they so many of 'em -- used to talk about mistakes. She said:
"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied"
I guess you'd have to say I ain't a man a' that particular moment. I don't recall ever recognizin' a mistake in time to fix it. Most a' my disasters been things what looked peachy 'til they was lyin' in pieces 'round my feet. Some was inner-verdant mistakes, but most received the benefit a' stupidity.
But I have had some fortunate things what started like little Hindenburgs but come out okay in the said and done. I thought about this today while Laura was readin' me a science article that reminded me a' some stuff I done last year with Alberich Rheingold.
Now, right off I hear you goin' "uh-oh," prob'ly rememberin' that the Herr Doktor Professor is been involved in some a' the more breath-takin' calamities a' our time; ever'thin' from the Bay a' Pigs to Watergate. But this time I think the boy's on to somethin'.
The particular ventricle a' which I speak come after we was elected President. Tell the truth, we was a mite surprised we won. We hadn't lined up our appointment ducks like we should a', and we was a little nervous 'bout the comin' congressional fights. It was durin' this period a' apprehension that Rheingold come to see me.
"Tell me, Mizter Prezhident, suppose I could guarantee you a more... zhall ve zay, acquiescent congress?" (Rheingold uses a lots a' "z"s and "v"s in his talk, but if you don't mind I'm just gonna write it like he was normal).
"Nice idea," I laughed, "but it ain't gonna happen."
"Ah," he said, "To the contrary." Then he told me 'how he'd been workin' on a military project with some psychologicals at State University a' New York. Seem like they'd come up with a way to make rats do practical anythin' they wanted.
I don't know much 'bout brain stuff, but what they does is stick two wires in the rat brain parts what is connected to the whiskers, and 'nother one in what they call the "pleasure center." Then they'd signal the rat to go one way or the other; and ever' time he done the right thing, they'd reward 'im by makin' 'im think he got lucky big time.
Rheingold had my total attention.
.
"In theory," Rheingold said, "There is no essential difference between a rat's brain and that of a human." (Less, if it's a Democrat, I think.) "We should be able to duplicate the control mechanism in human subjects as well." I called in Karl in right away, and we got down to figurin' how to take over whatever parts a' Democrats' brains they might be usin'.
Gettin' into their heads was the biggest problem; even a Democrat gonna notice you shovin' a wire in his brain. I'm proud to say I come up with the idea a' doin' it while they was unconscious — outside a' Congress, that is. Karl made some arrangements, and from then on ever' time a Democrat Senator or Congressperson had any kinda surgery in a government hospital, our doctor's' 'd routine wire 'em up. The next step was testin' the system.
"What we need," Rheingold said, "Is some situation so outrageous that under normal circumstances no Democrat would stand for it: some patently ludicrous bill, or the nomination of a complete nincompoop to a high post."
Bingo. Durin' the campaign we'd had to float the idea a' makin' John Ashcroft Attorney General, an idea so silly that couldn't nobody but South Carolina Republicans or Tom DeLay or some such lunatic believe it. I raised the idea with Rheingold, and he approved. "Of course," he said, "Even controlled subjects wouldn't allow such insanity. But it will be interesting to observe the quality of their opposition."
Well, a' course, there wasn't no opposin'. We nominated ol' John with a straight face, and like we'd thought, the Dems was liveried with anger for a spell. But when Rheingold threw the switch the opposin' melted like a Nutty-Buddy in a Houston summer. After that wasn't nothin' they couldn't do for us: the war on terrorism, cuttin' back on civil liberties, tax cuts for our friends, increased defense spendin', star wars — you name it they loved it.
Made me laugh. One minute they'd be yellin' at us, then Rheingold 'd flick his switch 'n they'd look 'round kinda puzzled for a minute, then twitch their noses and go back to nibblin' their little mouse biscuits.
I know sometimes you 'cuses me a' spinnin' a tall one or two, but you can tell my tongue ain't cheeked this time. Take a look how the Democrats been lately; and give me a better explanation for it.
At least now you know why I say, when it come down to Congress, Democrats 's just another Mickey Mouse outfit.
Yours truly,
George W.
Keepin' America good for good Americans
From: gwb
To: Hank Blakely
Sent: Sunday, May 12, 2002
Subject: Why they don't give a rat
There's a writer -- can't remember who, they so many of 'em -- used to talk about mistakes. She said:
"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied"
I guess you'd have to say I ain't a man a' that particular moment. I don't recall ever recognizin' a mistake in time to fix it. Most a' my disasters been things what looked peachy 'til they was lyin' in pieces 'round my feet. Some was inner-verdant mistakes, but most received the benefit a' stupidity.
But I have had some fortunate things what started like little Hindenburgs but come out okay in the said and done. I thought about this today while Laura was readin' me a science article that reminded me a' some stuff I done last year with Alberich Rheingold.
Now, right off I hear you goin' "uh-oh," prob'ly rememberin' that the Herr Doktor Professor is been involved in some a' the more breath-takin' calamities a' our time; ever'thin' from the Bay a' Pigs to Watergate. But this time I think the boy's on to somethin'.
The particular ventricle a' which I speak come after we was elected President. Tell the truth, we was a mite surprised we won. We hadn't lined up our appointment ducks like we should a', and we was a little nervous 'bout the comin' congressional fights. It was durin' this period a' apprehension that Rheingold come to see me.
"Tell me, Mizter Prezhident, suppose I could guarantee you a more... zhall ve zay, acquiescent congress?" (Rheingold uses a lots a' "z"s and "v"s in his talk, but if you don't mind I'm just gonna write it like he was normal).
"Nice idea," I laughed, "but it ain't gonna happen."
"Ah," he said, "To the contrary." Then he told me 'how he'd been workin' on a military project with some psychologicals at State University a' New York. Seem like they'd come up with a way to make rats do practical anythin' they wanted.
I don't know much 'bout brain stuff, but what they does is stick two wires in the rat brain parts what is connected to the whiskers, and 'nother one in what they call the "pleasure center." Then they'd signal the rat to go one way or the other; and ever' time he done the right thing, they'd reward 'im by makin' 'im think he got lucky big time.
Rheingold had my total attention.
.
"In theory," Rheingold said, "There is no essential difference between a rat's brain and that of a human." (Less, if it's a Democrat, I think.) "We should be able to duplicate the control mechanism in human subjects as well." I called in Karl in right away, and we got down to figurin' how to take over whatever parts a' Democrats' brains they might be usin'.
Gettin' into their heads was the biggest problem; even a Democrat gonna notice you shovin' a wire in his brain. I'm proud to say I come up with the idea a' doin' it while they was unconscious — outside a' Congress, that is. Karl made some arrangements, and from then on ever' time a Democrat Senator or Congressperson had any kinda surgery in a government hospital, our doctor's' 'd routine wire 'em up. The next step was testin' the system.
"What we need," Rheingold said, "Is some situation so outrageous that under normal circumstances no Democrat would stand for it: some patently ludicrous bill, or the nomination of a complete nincompoop to a high post."
Bingo. Durin' the campaign we'd had to float the idea a' makin' John Ashcroft Attorney General, an idea so silly that couldn't nobody but South Carolina Republicans or Tom DeLay or some such lunatic believe it. I raised the idea with Rheingold, and he approved. "Of course," he said, "Even controlled subjects wouldn't allow such insanity. But it will be interesting to observe the quality of their opposition."
Well, a' course, there wasn't no opposin'. We nominated ol' John with a straight face, and like we'd thought, the Dems was liveried with anger for a spell. But when Rheingold threw the switch the opposin' melted like a Nutty-Buddy in a Houston summer. After that wasn't nothin' they couldn't do for us: the war on terrorism, cuttin' back on civil liberties, tax cuts for our friends, increased defense spendin', star wars — you name it they loved it.
Made me laugh. One minute they'd be yellin' at us, then Rheingold 'd flick his switch 'n they'd look 'round kinda puzzled for a minute, then twitch their noses and go back to nibblin' their little mouse biscuits.
I know sometimes you 'cuses me a' spinnin' a tall one or two, but you can tell my tongue ain't cheeked this time. Take a look how the Democrats been lately; and give me a better explanation for it.
At least now you know why I say, when it come down to Congress, Democrats 's just another Mickey Mouse outfit.
Yours truly,
George W.
Keepin' America good for good Americans
Quiet As a Mouse
What did you have in mind?
© 2001- 2, Hank Blakely
