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Mattie Moon

Curse of the California Creeps


    There is nothing to be gained by running around in circles crying out loud that the sky is falling simply because Mr. Ronald Reagan has emerged as the biggest presidential liar of all time and the American Congress has quietly raised the public debt ceiling by another 200 billion dollars - $200,000,000,000.

    It is perfectly obvious that America the Beautiful has entered the twilight of democracy and we have no one to blame but ourselves.

    Ronald Reagan bashing is a tiresome and unfair business because this poor simpleton is not to blame for all the confusion. He is not our fearless leader; he is our hostage. We, the American voters, marched him into the White House and we are completely responsible for the terrible mess of the past, much lamented six years.

    Ronald Reagan is the third, and probably will be the last, American President from our golden state of California. The first was Herbert Hoover, a finely educated, enormously successful and respectable mining engineer, who had the bad luck to move into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue a few months before the great 1929 Wall Street collapse.

    The second California presidential sage, the scrofulous Richard Milhous Nixon, was simply a smirking creep with the manner of Uriah Heep, the morals of Al Capone, and an unslaked appetite for the bottle. The administration of this sufferable churl seriously wounded the White House, and the tradition of American public service has never fully recovered.

    Now, as the third man in this dreary procession of California pantaloons we have Ronald Reagan, a man of no demonstrable sophistication nor expertise, and a President who, after six years of affable snoozing, has managed to lay us open to the twin embarrassments of domestic insolvency and international derision.

    Thus it is understandable that a good many political scholars are quietly asking the question, "Is the American White House laboring under a California Curse?"

    At the drop of a hundred-dollar bill into his tin cup, a world class California politician - with the standout exceptions of Ed Davis and Cathie Wright - will, if asked, immediately abandon the meek to soup kitchens, leave the poor in spirit to the loan sharks, relegate the peacemakers to the Salvation Army, and even when pressed will be very stingy about sharing his misbegotten wealth with unscrupulous newspaper editors.

    Ronald Wilson Reagan is a beautiful laboratory example of Homo Californiensis, or, as commonly identified by anthropologists, Los Anglothropus erectus. Thus our current President is simply a mirror image of his bleary-eyed, tub-thumping voters. Like so many of us Southland nut gatherers and basket weavers, the President is earning far more money than he deserves. He is comfortably ill-educated, and exudes the slippery morality and sincere hypocrisy so beloved of the American voters. He is Mr. America, complete with delusions of infallibility and daydreams of omnipotence.

    What is it about American voters in general, and Californians in particular, that has enabled us to send so many poltroons to Washington, D.C? Is there some fatal flaw in the grand old-fashioned principles of the secret ballot and rule by majority consent? Did we, the voters, make a lethal mistake by surrendering to the marching suffragettes and granting the franchise to women voters? Or by handling the ballot to teenagers?

    It would be reckless, and certainly unchivalrous, to suggest that polysexual voting rights have destroyed the very fabric of our two-hundred-year-old republic. Nor would it be wise to insist that 18-year-old Americans have debauched our free and permissive culture. Women and children may have hastened the decline and fall of classic American misgovernment, but the onset of Washington D.C. dry rot actually began with the rise of big-time television. Since the early days of two or three picture tubes per family and the appearance of Howdy Doody and Mr. Ed, the talking horse, in every American household, the stature of our American chief executives has been shrinking with demonstrable speed.

    In pre-electronic ages our nation was the preserve of pompous asses from Ohio, Virginia, Massachusetts, New York and other such ancient states. But the recent and reprehensible deluge of pretty-boy California drunkards, liars, windbags, and cheats in the White House must be laid at the swinging doors of prime time TV. Because of the sweet corruption of the idiot box, we, the ever-gullible American people, are voting more and more frequently with our glands instead of our residual brains.

    Well, under these lugubrious circumstances how are we to divert the East-bound parade of low-grade Southland hustlers who are destroying our national self respect?

    California-style political leadership has been an unmitigated catastrophe. And if the United States of America is to survive as a viable sovereign unit on planet Earth, we shall have to rid ourselves of California churls in the Oval Office before we are overrun by the Marxist armies of Nicaragua and Grenada.

    Consequently, these paragraphs respectfully recommend that our sacred United States Constitution be amended to interdict the entire state of California and to excommunicate every last man, woman or child who is presently empowered to vote in this golden commonwealth.

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