It’s just past one a.m. in the little room off the Oval Office and Dr. Jekyll and his alter ego Mr. Hyde are meeting with President Obama and his regulation czar, Cass Sunstein, hereinafter referenced as J, H, O, and S, respectively, if not necessarily respectfully.
**O: Glad you could make it guys, you’ve always been a big help when I need…
**J: I say, Edward Hyde, did he refer to us as “guys,” representatives of Her Majesty and the empire on which the sun never sets…okay…not quite the same now…but I feel somehow so dirty…guys…
**O: Sorry about that, Henry…I’ll just repeat my apology from the last time you were here and I forgot…
**H: And corrected himself to call us mateys…oh hoo hah, Benjamin Franklin must be tossing in his…
**S: So what’s wrong with mateys, Mr. Hyde…you’re dangerously close to exhibiting a racist demeanor and that just doesn’t get it in this land of the free…
**H: And the home of the knave…as you so ably describe yourself in that remark, Mr. … I say, have we met? I’d at least like to know whom I’m about to bludgeon…oh hahahahaha…blood everywhere…get out from under the table, Mr. Whatever…just a bit o’ the blarney, as they say in the Irish colony.
**O: Gentlemen, meet Cass Sunstein, my regulatory czar. He’s in charge of seeing that everyone and everything in this country runs smoothly, that there’s no discrimination and that…
**H: Oh…I get it…he’s the one who decides when the death panels are remiss in seeing the old codgers off to eternity and sets them right. Oh…what a jolly good job…maybe a lethal injection or even better, land mines in the nursing-home corridors…oh hahahahaha…
**J: Stop it Edward. What he means, Cass, is that you’re on the right track. We have that rationed care already in the kingdom and can promise you that costly transplants are never done if the patient is just allowed to live until…
**H: He dies of pneumonia or blows out his brains, whichever comes first…oh hahahahaha…
**O: Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s get to the matter at hand…now where’s that damn teleprompter when I need it? What IS the matter at hand, Cass? John Kerry told me he thought of it day before yesterday or maybe last week or last month or…I’ve had a long month and…
**S: Please accept my apology, Mr. Hyde. I didn’t mean to imply…
**H: Apology accepted, Cass. Every time I visit any of the colonies I have to remember that refinement comes hard to the natives.
**J: By the by, Barry, back in June when we were last here in this dreadful and notorious room – do you, too, have cute interns in here occasionally, you know, let the good times roll – you asked us to tell you whose arses to kick in the BP-Gulf fiasco that you didn’t bother to look in on for weeks. How many did you kick under the bus, as you colonials quaintly put it?
**S: No asses were kicked, Mr Jekyll, after I explained to the commander-in-chief that the fault lay solely with the Bush/Cheney/Osama/Halliburton cabal. It’s well-known that a rogue submarine outfitted by Halliburton and manned with some Muslim jihad-types headed for the virgins was crashed into the well-head and…
**H: Oh…hahahahaha…too deep for anyone to go down and prove you to be a liar, eh, Cass, old boy? Did any blood rise to the surface with all that oil and…oh dear…maybe even a few arms or legs.
**J: Stop it Edward! The term “liar” is just a generic term that Edward uses to describe strange people…oh dear, that didn’t come off too well. Oh well, since I’m into the muckety-muck already, is it true, Cass, that you think dogs and cats should have the right to sue their masters over ill-treatment, perceived or real…you know, soy products instead of polar bear livers in their feed-bowls?
**S: Let me just preface my answer by informing you that I’m a graduate of Harvard Law, meaning that I’m absolutely…
**H: On the lunatic fringe…oh, Barry, that’s rich…aren’t you also Harvard Law…
**S: …And that animals have the right not to be mistreated…and Mr. Hyde…REALLY…masters is so…well, gauche, uncivilized, racist. The term is partners, as in two-of-a-kind.
**J: Oh…that’s jolly well interesting Cass. Does that mean that humans can bite each other on the leg when it’s deemed necessary…like confronting a recalcitrant postman about being late?
**O: (jumping up) NOW I remember. It’s the Tea Party thing, gentlemen. I need advice on how to deal with these people.
**H: EGAD! Have you no shame, Barry? That’s a touchy subject in the empire…even now, after all these years. We still never go near Boston, the seat of incivility.
**J: And the location of Harvard, by the by…right, Edward? By the way, Barry, didn’t you mention in your campaign that you would share an afternoon tea anytime with that monster, Ahmadinejad…absolutely no pre-conditions…
**H: Maybe throw in a beheading or two with the crumpets just to make for a happy time with hugs all around…except for the beheadees, of course…oh hahahahaha…all that blood with the sugar-cubes…
**J: I’ve heard of the democrats and the republicans and the greens and the independents…but, the TEAS? I’ve never heard of that party. Who is its head LEAF…oh dear…pardon the pun. What’s the matter, Cass…you know…tea leaves…get it, Cass…tea leaves, the head, oh…never mind.
**O: All jokes aside, gentlemen, the Tea Partiers are out to get me! They don’t have a party…they just have a lot of…
**H: Nerve! That’s it…a lot of nerve, the scoundrels! Just fight nerve with nerve, Barry. Challenge them to a duel…something like box-cutters at three inches…oh…hahahaha…blood everywhere…aortas spewing!
**J: What Edward means, Barry, is that you must engage them on their own turf, that is, do what they say or as the mountain-williams in your Kentucky say, take low and go down until you can get the upper hand again, usually by using bribes. After all, this is government we’re talking about…how deucedly clever of me, eh, Edward…and without a bit of blood!
**H: Oh, I say, Henry, even though I prefer at least some sort of concussion, which is the play of choice in vulgar American football, you have made the point.
**S: Please, Mr. Hyde, you have the habit of speaking so disparagingly about everything American but to make light of football is akin to secular blasphemy, which is almost as bad as spiritual blasphemy, which is s-o-o-o-o impolitic…even irreligious…
**J: Speaking of which, Edward, do you think this tea served in Styrofoam cups instead of fine china is more than a bit demeaning? Careful there, Cass, fainting at just a slight insult is s-o-o-o-o unmanly.
**H: In merry old England, I would use the Sir Danvers Carew Treatmentthat I invented, otherwise known as the “crushed-skull-protocol,” but in deference to our hosts and their fellow democrats, why not just leave them to where they’re headed…the dogs, of course? Ta-ta!
And so it goes.
Jim Clark
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