We hear, they're going to advertise Mitt's remedy for Monday

The New York Times reports that ear-nest Republicans of the moment are going to launch widely televised advertisements of our Mitt's career in eliminating Monday's gruesome resumption of the weekly grind, ie, the ignominy of employment. And who should not take note of that elegant freefall into entropy which has so often been the gift of the witty bird to the industrious worm?

Not that this hasn't led to the creation of that foul class of loiterers who staunchly withhold their profitability from our system, only to sap it with obscene deple-tions of its indulgent safety net.

    

  More wars, of course

  are the proper riposte

  to this indiscipline;

  who does not recall

  Bush the Founder's

  justification for put-

  ting half a million

  men on the ground to

  contend for Kuwait,

  in the midst of the

  family's first reces-

  sion, as creating jobs,

  jobs, jobs, only to pre-

  cipitate the most won-

  drous unemployment, our

  Republican remedy for

  Monday.

Has it only warped our grasp of Gilbert and Sullivan, to glance back through our emulation of Britain's imperial decline to see them now as satirists? Has the penchant for piracy in our Repub-licans defamed the good name of their doily art of dress-up derring-do? Something, indeed, must be counted as lost to the breed, when one of its pretenders can siphon off the sympathies of youth with disdain of an overly extended military establishment. Why, how can a paymaster profit from the State, my dear Lord Chandos, without a payroll; where every day's a Monday, the lark of Cheneyism's ascendant.

We can't suppose that those still subject to Monday, give any thought to the socialist regime which laid a threshold to their workplace in mid-air, as the lewd public works project that it is, lingering to mar their perfect alienation. With what disgusting disregard of opportunity do our socialists deliver the masses to their drudgery, that our Mitt would heal?

Has anyone witnessed a field of putative heads of state which has competed so strenuously for the mantle of Most Ridiculous, as to recall absolutely nothing of the naïveté of child-hood's excuse? I never saw such a pack of unregenerate resenters in my life, even at the Cow Palace for Barry Goldwater - of whom, the less said, the better right now, because he is their obvious model; and who could wish to deflect their free-fall into the dustbin of democracy? Bend your knees, Harry, was our Ben's advice on leaping from the train. I suppose they will have heard?

James Toback
Bugsy
  An original screenplay
Carol Publishing, 1991©


ii   Photograph Robert Doisneau
iii  The Slab