In time everyone came to realize that Democrats and Republicans could no longer go on living together. It was not just a matter of differences of opinion regarding social, legal, religious and political matters'”although that was a key point in what eventually happened'”but the fact that people in each party at last had to make a decision regarding where they were going in life. Could the planet survive much longer if we, as the Republicans insisted, continued to let the government and Corporate America overwhelm the planet with unrestrained pollution? And how could environmental conservationists make any progress if pitted against such ignorant, self-destructive ignoramuses?
Republicans, usually white, rich, selfish, arrogant, presumptuous, and only interested in returning America to its “Good Old Days” . . . i.e., those wonderful days when blacks had to use separate bathrooms, were chased down by police Gestapo German Shepherds every time they stood up for civil rights, were not allowed to hold high-ranking jobs, and had to ride in the back of buses . . . had drawn a line in the sand and were not about to budge. Democrats, more laissez-faire, acting only when pushed into a corner by bigots, tyrants, religious fanatics, and abusive bullies, at last recognized the need for such a “line.” Consequently, a new country was born.
Although some people thought that a civil war was inevitable, it fortunately did not come to that. The greatest minds on both sides (and for the brain-dead Republicans, mind you, this was one great feat) came together and the result was a partitioned USA. Right down the middle the country was splint in two. All racist Republicans (not that there is any other kind) living in the North were, ironically, bused to the South. All the Democrats, as was right, remained in the North; the sensible, morally-conscientious Americans that had been trapped in the South came up to where they belonged, the more fair-minded North. Every Democrat with racist tendencies, when they were removed far away from the evil influence of Republicans, immediately became better human beings; consequently, they were allowed to stay in or come (if they had had the misfortune to find themselves in the South) to the North.
The US, therefore, was now two separate countries. It was the only way to stop the bloodshed that would have come, the only way to avoid another Civil War. This was not to say, though, that everyone was happy with the turnout. Many agitators (mostly on the Republican side) thought that it would have been better to have fought it out, to, at the end of a gun, using the powers of the “Police State” George W. Bush had started, force all Democrats (i.e., lovers of freedom, democracy, and fair play) to just conform to the narrow-minded, blatantly-racist, and ignorant ways of Republican nitwits. Despite the newly-formed borders, therefore, there was still talk of war, of bloody confrontation.
There had been those who had tried to negotiate peace and to forge a platform of understanding and common interests between the two sides. That may have worked in the past (probably because decent people had merely submitted to tyranny, possibly to avoid trouble, but more likely because of cowardice) but, now, when resources had been tapped to their limits, when the earth could scarcely take any more punishment, and when it was simply not possible to go on living with one’s head in the sand, rash action was the only thing left.
Those well-meant “peace talks,” though, did have a good effect. They helped to illustrate how intransigent, unreasonable, arrogantly presumptuous, and foolishly suicidal all Republicans were. In this regard, they earned their reputation for being a bunch of war-mongering tyrants. The hell with the rights or needs of the poor; away with the US Constitution; no need to protect the environment from Corporate America’s greed and the government’s incompetence; to tarnation with the welfare of animals and plants! It was when Democrats realized what a bunch of selfish, power-hungry, money-worshiping idiots they were dealing with that the “final solution” came to mind; as it were, it overshadowed all other thoughts.
On the border of the two new American countries, a delegation from each political party met. They were here to discuss a proposal on how to best deal with the differences that still hung over their everyday existence, like a plague that simply would not go away.
Generalissimo Prescott Bush (a descendant of the Bush family member that had once been arrested for treason against the US during the Nazi Germany era) sat behind a huge mahogany desk that had been brought here to the woods by a crane. Around him were leaders of the Republican cult, each wearing fancy uniforms and gaudy apparel. On at least a few of them the Swastika could clearly be seen, in keeping with the ‘Nazi Germany” inclinations of the Republican Party.
“We mean to win this contest, Democratic bourgeois'”be warned!”
In front of him was the delegation for the Democratic Party. In the group were blacks, Asians and at least one Hispanic, in keeping with the more culturally diverse aspect of the Democratic agenda. This was in sharp contrast to the Republican Party which, officially, no longer accepted “token” nonwhites in its ranks. It was simply no longer necessary to put on an act for the public'”consequently, the Republican Party was now 100% white. Racial purity, after all, had always been an integral goal and agenda of Republican ideology. All those nonwhites who had fooled themselves into thinking otherwise–pretending that maybe these bigots could actually change their ways (despite the vast historical evidence to the contrary)–were summarily kicked out of the party. Surprise, surprise!
“Stop this posturing, Bush,” Chelsea Clinton (the granddaughter of the former First Lady) responded. “Can’t you clowns act like normal human beings?”
Bush adjusted his silk tie. Like robots recently let out of their manufacturers’ boxes, the rest of his companions did the same. It was all about appearance, you see, in the Republican camp. Putting on the best possible “face” superseded everything else.
“Remember the terms, woman,” Bush responded, his voice firm, militaristic, and totally committed to the party’s pugilistic cause. “If our ‘champion’ wins, you will all submit to the rule of the Republican empire. The North will surrender its position and its political hold. And we will again rule the hearts and mind of all Americans!”
“You never ruled the hearts of all Americans, Jackass,” Chelsea responded.
“We ruled the hearts of all those that mattered, anyway,” Bush said, this time getting up and reaching for a bottle of bourbon. He gulped down a quart in no time, but he was just getting started.
Bush came around the huge mahogany desk, the one that had taken a crane to be moved, and stood in front of Chelsea Clinton. He offered the lass a swig of his nectar. Naturally, Chelsea, not agreeing with the Republican’s claim that liquor was not really a “drug”‘”therefore something wonderful to dip into anytime the whim dictated'”declined the offer. Were all members of the Bush “family tree” sots?
“The moral decline of the Democratic Party'”that’s what you represent, Chelsea,” Bush spit out, his speech slurred and barely discernible. “I mean, what kind of a party appoints a woman as the leader thereof? Women were made to pump out babies, stay in the kitchen, and provide for man’s pleasures. Look into your family-history records and you’ll see a perfect use for womanhood. Check out the name ‘Monica Lewinsky.’ That’s what women are good for. We conservatives know how to put women in their right place. Democrats, well, they don’t know what’s what and who’s who, which is why the Republicans in the end must win this upcoming battle. We are the ones who’ve been divinely chosen to protect the interests of white America, of bigotry and of male chauvinism. It’s your party that has no moral code!”
Chelsea could clearly smell the extent of their “moral code,” as she saw their self-appointed emperor continue to take swig after swig of the intoxicating brew. The subjugation of women, keeping blacks in their “place,” keeping colonialism alive and kicking, war-mongering, trampling the US Constitution, defending white supremacy at all cost, enforcing hypocritical policies and laws'”these were the basic ingredients of the Republican “moral code.”
“We will meet our end of the bargain, Mr. Bush. But do consider the possibility that we might win.”
“That’s ‘Emperor’ Bush, Honey,” Bush corrected. At first, he had attempted to take the same title given to his grandfather during his 8-year term, i.e., “King,” but, alas, in keeping with the Republican theology that the “self” is the ultimate “god,” he had, instead, gone with the much more powerful “emperor.” His Republican constituents, who pretty much believe everything their “superiors” say, and who love to serve tyrants (the more ruthless and power-hungry, the better), saw no problem with the development. After all, only lowly Democrats believed in the inherent human rights of all people, in self-determination, in freedom, in democracy, in pure capitalism, and in upholding the dignity of all human beings, not just that of whites, the rich, and the powerful.
“‘E-m-p-e-r-o-r’ Bush?” Chelsea let the ridiculous word roll off her tongue like a spider she had mistakenly bitten after it has surreptitiously stolen its way into her mouth while she slept. “Well, your ‘travesty””I mean, your majesty–while you remain partially sober for a minute or two more, may we go over this written agreement our two nations have just signed?”
Over the next few minutes, Chelsea and her colleagues painstakingly went over every detail in the comprehensive agreement. They wanted to make sure that there were no discrepancies, misunderstandings, or misinterpretations. Although she did not trust these characters (fellow Americans though they were), she thought that they might be more amenable to being honourable if she were clear about what had been agreed to. She recognized, though, that she was probably just being pointedly na¯ve. When have Republicans ever been honourable, trustworthy, or conscientious?
After the meeting of the two delegations, the matter at hand was finally officially approved. Forward came the combatants.
On the one side was a giant robot that was to fight for the Democrats. Her name, by popular choice, was “Hillary Clinton.” The thing was as human-like as possible but it, of course, moved with too much rigidity and awkward slowness to be confused for a human being. Like the ex-First Lady, she was blonde, had blue eyes, and was not particularly attractive. In fact, it was fair to say that she had a perfect face for an automaton.
On the other side was her opponent'”none other than Godzilla. Godzilla would be fighting for the Republican Party. As expected, Godzilla was a wrinkly-looking, dinosaur like, fire-breathing monster. Considering how much Republicans love the idea of torturing prisoners, giving the government unlimited power (totalitarianism), making up facts instead of reporting the truth, and playing the “blame game” (instead of seeking, finding and implementing practical solutions), it was easy to see why such a monster was a good representation of what they stood for and who they actually were deep inside.
These were powerful machines that were to fight it out until the end. Both machines were ready to swing their gargantuan arms viciously, to gouge, to break, to crunch, and to smash, etc., until the other machine was completely incapacitated or utterly destroyed. Each was approximately forty feet tall, had the pulling strength of giant cranes, possessed thousands of pounds of crushing power, and could be operated either independently or by remote control.
Most people in both new nations were stuck to their TVs or to their computers (using the Internet), waiting patiently for the fight to come. Everything was riding on this likely-to-be-gory battle. If Hillary Clinton won, the North would again be victorious and the low South could once again be put in its place. This was not just a battle for geographic gain, though. What was at stake here was a battle for the best ideology, for the right to stand up for what was right. People in their respective borders were rooting for their side, of course, but this went beyond the personal desires of two very different groups of people.
The rest of the world also watched. People of the third world, of course, were rooting for Hillary Clinton. Most of Europe, having always favoured colonialism, racism, and other types of stupid ism’s, were rooting for Godzilla. “Mangez la merde et mourez, Madame Clinton!” some French people were heard saying, which, roughly translated, meant “Eat feces and die, Mrs. Clinton!” Spaniards responded with, “Maldita puta'”vete para el carajo!” Roughly put, this meant “Cursed whore'”go to hell!”
People in places like Mexico, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, Kenya, Saudi Arabia, Hong Kong, Japan, etc., though, were much kinder to the over-sized native of Illinois. They saw her in the same way many Americans have viewed the Statue of Liberty, i.e., the image of a liberator, a symbol of freedom, and a reminder of what most matters in this life. Naturally, they wanted her to win.
As for Godzilla, both Europeans and some of the more sensitive bigots (assuming that any such a thing actually existed) in the South had wondered why this particular “monster” had been chosen. Had they been asked, they would have instead suggested a robotic version of David Duke, ex-governor George Wallace, Clyde Barrow, Jefferson Davis, James Earl Ray, Rush Limbaugh'”or any of a number of other “greats” the South has produced. Why Godzilla had been chosen, though, was eventually accepted by everyone. Complete submission to the government was, after all, an integral part of being a Republican–monarchies being what worked best for them. In such governments, one did not question higher authority. It was best to just blindly submit. And, so, Godzilla became their patron saint. To it they bowed each morning, worshipping the image like the good heathens they were, pretending to be Christians only when it was convenient and profitable, in keeping with the teachings of Joel Osteen.
At a giant field that had once been used to grow edible things, the two giant robots faced each other. This was the day of reckoning all had waited for.
Hillary Clinton walked cautiously toward the scaly beast. With each step, the earth moved a bit and there was a sound not unlike thunder as her giant feet hit the solid ground. Weighing in at roughly 38,000 pounds, she was a menacing creature indeed. Despite having been greased generously, her joints made a loud scraping sound every time she moved. Slowly but surely, she crept close to her opponent.
Godzilla waited patiently for the “broad.” He had his claws only partly stretched out as if ready to only slap her around for a while. It was not his desire to trounce her right away. At first, he wanted to play with her massive, metallic, overly-decorated body. Maybe grab her by her waist. Pretend to dance. Then, while her guard was down, throw her down roughly. Afterwards, he would jump on top of her, pinning her under his massive, superior, male-like body. After humiliating her, then and only then, would he start to get physical. Hitting “women” was not his thing but this was one “woman,” after all, who everyone agreed needed a good whipping. “Hillary Baby,” he said to her telepathically, “don’t play too hard to get and I won’t trounce you too badly.”
Hillary, meanwhile, could almost guess what that male-chauvinist beast was thinking. So what if he had more weight. She was aware that he weighed close to 50,000 pounds. At first, her makers had worried about this extra weight he had over her, but they concluded that her lighter body would lend itself to quicker, lither movements. Simply put, she was likely to be more easily maneuvered, lighter on her feet, and also more likely to be underestimated by her opponent. This last part Hillary could see in the eyes of the beast as she got closer to it. It was her intention to make the most of this Republican penchant to underestimate her abilities.
When Hillary got rather close to Godzilla, she pretended to relax a bit. She even went so far as to put her giant hands on her waist, proceeding to do a hula hoop dance. This she did while she smiled in an extremely coquettish fashion. When Godzilla, dropping his guard, came closer, though, Hillary delivered a nasty kick to his crotch. Godzilla, literally turning red in colour, went down to his knees, a fierce cry of pain escaping his metallic lips. She had landed a kick unto a rather delicate part of his robotic anatomy. Yes, that’s right, his electronic neuron-motor-control globes. Why his makers had decide to place such delicate pieces of technology at that particular spot was hard to say but, be that as it may, it was time for Godzilla to get over the pain. Hillary Clinton was going to pay for her treachery!
Godzilla, after a minute or two of rest, got up and, smoke oozing from his giant mouth, lunged at Hillary. She deftly moved to the side, putting one feminine leg in the path of the fast moving beast. Godzilla went down loudly'”all 50,000 pounds of him!
While he lay on the ground, Hillary took the opportunity to teach him a lesson or two. She pounded the scaly monster from behind. At first, she used only her giant, massive arms; then she also used her feet. There were soon dents in the body of her opponent and oil seemed to ooze from some holes she had also made. It seemed that this was the end of Godzilla but, alas, the beast spun around and, grabbing Hillary’s leg, he sent her to the ground with one giant thud. While she lay on the earth, Godzilla delivered a spray of exceedingly hot flames upon the reclining she-robot. It was Hillary’s turn to cry out in pain.
The two scrambled to their feet and this was when the fight really began. Hillary, sticking out her long, menacing nails, scratched viciously at the scaly beast. She hissed like a cat and did her best to, with screeches and witch-like screams, intimidate the giant lizard. This, though it may have worked for humans, did not have much effect on a giant robot. Godzilla, making a hefty fist, just swung at the psychotic bimbo, sending her flying, in time, toward a gully in the distance. Hillary seemed to disappear into the giant ditch but, later on, clawed her way out. There was mud, dirt, branches, and leaves all over her body but this did not seem to affect her impetus to crank this fight up, as if, so far, it had only been a game of fun and tease.
Hillary surprised Godzilla when she came at him like a football player going after the quarterback. Though bigger and heavier, Godzilla lost his balance after Hillary, half-crouching, collided with his legs, knocking him to the ground for all to see. When Hillary tried to mount him, though, apparently so she could ride him like a horse, Godzilla swung at her with full force. She was sent again flying through the air, landing some 100 feet or more away. The earth shook and everyone wondered if significant damage had been done that time.
Godzilla then got up quickly. Getting sick of this “foreplay,” he decided to maybe end this thing somewhat quicker than he had originally planned. Accordingly, he grabbed a large stone (a thing weighing well over 1000 pounds) and then flung it at the whore. Unaware of what was coming her way, Hillary, attempting to get up, caught the rock head-on. The impact sent her down again. There was a deep gash in her face'”one from which grease and pneumatic fluids escaped. Some wondered if the poor woman would ever get up again.
Seeing the success of the attack, Godzilla grabbed other giant rocks. One after the other, he flung them at the strumpet; each landed and created considerable damage. In time, however, Godzilla was running out of ammunition. He was forced to move further from the scene of the crime. This, unbeknownst to him, though, only gave Hillary a chance to recoup and work on an offensive strategy of her own.
Consequently, she found a large tree. After getting rid of all the branches, the thing became a giant bat. This she hid behind herself. Then she went looking for her opponent.
Godzilla, meanwhile, had found several rocks. He was coming back to the fight with his newly-found arsenal. When he saw Hillary coming toward him, he dropped all the rocks except for one. It was this one he prepared to pitch at her ugly, Harpy-like face. Unfortunately, he did not see the weapon she was hiding'”at least not until his rock was already in the air. Hillary, this time expecting the projectile, swung her bat at it, sending it straight back to the Republican beast. Godzilla, completely unprepared for the gesture, caught the flying rock exactly between his giant eyes. Glass and metal pieces flew in different directions; again, Godzilla hit the ground, stunned and disoriented.
Hillary, taking advantage of his disorientation, came at the lizard with no mercy whatsoever. She bashed the supine dinosaur over and over again. It was only when the huge tree broke that she finally stopped the attack. In the distance, she could see more trees. She thought about going after more of them but did not want to make the same mistake he had made. When she had been down, he had abandoned his attack, only to give her a chance to come back at him.
While he lay down, Hillary grabbed his feet. After she had lifted his legs high enough, she proceeded to spin around. She could see his whole body come around and around. When she had developed enough momentum and had his body off the ground high enough, she let him go. He went flying, only to land, head first, into a tall mound of dirt. There was a loud crunching sound. Hopefully, he had broken a few essential parts.
The vicious fight went on and on. Hillary at times landed the best blows; later on, Godzilla seemed to be crushing her to death. Both giant robots were oozing fluids from a number of holes and dents. Smoke could be seen escaping from their respective exhaust pipes. Obviously, they had both created significant damage. Both were on the verge of total collapse.
As the two robots fought, they moved away further from where the fight had begun. They ended up facing each other on top of a high hill. Hillary had come at Godzilla several times, each time doing damage, but sometimes also taking some serious blows. When Hillary again came at him Godzilla, for a change, pulled a pointy metal rod he had been saving till the end. He thrust this make-shift spear into Hillary’s neck. Assuming that he had given her a mortal blow, Godzilla started doing a victory dance. Up and down he went with arms raised up in the air. It was while he was in this frenzied state, though, that he made the biggest mistake of all. He simply did not see Hillary rapidly running toward him. With great determination and ramming force, she managed to tackle him right over the hill. He fell for a great distance, at last landing amid a pile of rocks. He lay at the bottom of the hill, his metal body shattered and in great disarray.
When technicians at last made it to the scene of the fall, they confirmed that Godzilla was indeed out of commission. This was taken to mean that the Democrats had won but, alas, the Republicans, who were professional sore losers, did not concede. They alleged that cheating had taken place and that Hillary had won, not by skill or by superior technological prowess, but by deception and trickery'”a typical Democratic modus operandi, they suggested! But it was Godzilla, the Democrats contended, that had actually cheated. The fight, consequently, did not have the desire effect: to resolve their differences.
A rematch was therefore arranged. This time, though, the Republicans were abandoning the services of Godzilla. This time, they would build a more menacing robot, a more repulsive mechanical creation, a creature deceptively cute but ready to be manipulated any which way, and someone that was not likely to be beaten by the likes of Hillary Clinton. The next giant robot would have a body, a disposition, and a character that would not back down to any Democrat, human or robotic. On her were the Republicans to place all their hopes and dreams. Republicans everywhere, though, dearly hoped that the next match did not include a match of IQs. Replacing the gruesome and intimidating role of Godzilla was none other than a mechanical version of Sarah Palin.