23 May 2012

Olives, Vines, Vices, Bin Ledeen

Dear Dr. Bones,

Scribblin’ for pajamaclad masses that yearn to ¡take their Freedumb back! is hardly the ideal context in which His Eminence, Michael Grand ’Ayátalláh Bin Ledeen, can show that he really does know quite a lot about Italy. Most of this knowledge is at whight angles with what the Squire of Simon Pajama --an’ World’s Greatest YaleoDraama™ist, never forget that part--considers that Master Wally Wombschool an’ Cindy from Wasilla ought to be hearin’ about the miserable Old Euroes.

As you can see at a glance, O Bones, the Kiddiemaster gets his way an’ the kiddies get this Procrustean gunk, Berlusconistán


tarted up [1] to sound like North Korea.

And the moral of THAT is, "She who pays the piper, calls the tune."

Under the mercenary circumstances Paddy and Eye are not even sure that Muscle Mikey is bein’ honest with the kiddies of Pajama Junction NJ about his personal freelordly druthers. I guess we have to stipulate that he is, however, in which case it seems clear that the place he would fit in best is "Ancient Poland," as Pani Landowska called the splendiferous Rzeczpospólita of Century XII-XVIII-LV. There may have been --nay, there were--various other problems that some have considered pretty severe, but plainly the Wicked State did not have its vacuum cleaner plugged into one’s wallet pocket the way Uncle Sam (an’ the late Uncle Silvio) plug themselves in nowadays. Such Wicked State as was permitted to exist in good King Veto’s Golden Commonwealth knew its place, understood that it existed on sufferance for the convenience of Lubomirscy, and Radziwillowie, an’ Bin Ledeens, an’ Simons Pajama (also of Willards Mitt Romney), not their freelordships for State convenience.

This destination being, alas, out of reach until the Jobcreationist ©ommunity (_¡regina in æternum vivat!_) get the bugs out of the time-travel product, I guess the ideal slot for the Whight Reverend Bin Ledeen would be something like C. S. O., Chief Spiritual Officer, to the Cayman Islands. Presumably this position does not exist at the moment, but ’twould be easy enought to innovate it, much easier than makin’ ¡jedz, pij, i popuszczaj pasa! available to his freelordship. They gotta have at least one decent hotel down there the Rev. Mikey could guru it out of.

Those for whose convenience the Cayman Islands exist (quâ pseudopolity, I mean, not just geographically or geologically) rarely actually visit the [exp. del.] place, I believe. ¿Ain’t globalisation wunnerful?   Muscle Mikey, however, ought to be physically in residence most of the time. Bein’ but a Spiritual officer, his freelordship should have it made very plain to him that "First Estate" is strictly a phrase of courtesy, and does not involve any firstness that would put one even on a par with such goodvolks as Really Matter [*], Lubomirscy, an’ Walkers Bush, an’ Willards Mitt, an’ Koch Frères, an’ Berlusconiowie, an’ . . . .

Happy days.

____
[1] The uptartin’ is a curious business, though Eye do not care to get launched into more scribble about it than Muscle Mikey merits. Which ain’t a whole lot.

Briefly, though: take "discovery of financial corruption at the highest levels of the party."

Now Italy, and à fortiori the Lombard League, in fact exist more for the Berlusconioid Class convenience than _vice versâ_, so ¿What else would one expect?   Perhaps his freelordship cherishes the noble hope, even the dotty anticipation, that one day scab pols will scab for their Betters without any recompense whatever, disinterestedly an’ out of sheer _geistlich_ admiration for Betterness-as-such.   Professional FirstEstaters like His Eminence *do* have a tendency to fall into that hire-minded type of sandtrap, after all.

Whereas ignorant lay sheeps like the Muses and you, Dr. Bones, and Paddy and Eye think we know better than to hold our breath waiting for præternatural wunners to come to pass.

[2] The whight-wing Tanks of Thought are infested with "small people" who could do with havin’ this lesson rubbed into ’em with maybe a bullwhip.   But Eye digresses.