Saturday, March 21, 2020

Rural Oregon Noblesse Oblige

Rural Oregon has a reputation for patriotic rednecks (with a howdy to the Hammonds of Harney County and survivors of the “Oregon standoff”!)

While bald eagles circle in the open sky over the crop fields, my village happens to be located between Portland and “the Berkeley of the North” (University of Oregon). Our charming mayor called Trump a “fascist”; as he told me in the library’s tiny reading room, he’s happy getting his “news” from mainstream media. TV is piped into the bucolic homesteads around me like an urban pollutant, bilge that’s regurgitated by the chatters who gather in the quaint town’s only coffee shop.


America has been barraged by mass mind control since 1963. Mockingbird disinformation saturates many an innocuous-seeming institution. So I wasn’t surprised that my local historical society purveys propaganda. (“History is written by the victors.”) Behold our “need” for more immigrants; the gospel of Darwin’s Theory; and other anti-conservative dog whistles.


To be fair, there’s not a lot for retirees to do in a small town besides listen to NPR and parrot to your neighbor about how “horrible” Trump is.

The Wuhan coronavirus has canceled a lot of events.

There’s usually an annual fundraiser for the little museum where townspeople perform skits about a certain year in history.

This time it was to be 1930.



(Why? They couldn’t possibly be alluding to how “Trump is 1930s Hitler”? Coincidentally, Democrats and deep-state agents have actually said out loud that another Depression will be great if it gets Trump out of office.)

In this atmosphere of Trump Derangement Syndrome, I had fun writing a few skits for these fine museum gentry who school us. I made copies to share at a meeting. The liberal organizer tried to stop me from passing the scripts around since I’m a Brown Shirt thug (Sieg Trump!) ...But I handed out the scripts anyway. Something about free speech is satisfying, almost as if I’d stood up to actual fascism.

Just picture the MSM-brainwashed performing these skits:

1930 Anarchy, Prohibition & Kindness 

(by VC Bestor) 

Scene: Sidewalk

Actors: Guy Folksie, Avner, and Florence the Charity Worker

Props: Flyers, paper poppies, splint

Note: all “mistakes” are intentional



Guy Folksie (hawking to Avner) : Hey, got a penny for a broadsheet of the Workers of the World?
(brandishes flyers)

Avner (shows splint on right hand): I’m not a worker. I broke my finger and got laid off.

Guy Folksie: Comrade Stalin would find work for you if we were in Mother Russia. Every citizen there has the right to work according to his ability.

Avner : My left hand still works but just for –
(Surreptitiously mimes drinking from a bottle; laughs)

Guy Folksie : “To each according to his need!” That’s the first tenet of socialism.

Avner: I like socializing. But the girls don’t like my being jobless. I can’t even buy them a glass of bootleg.

Guy Folksie: Meanwhile the rich man’s cellar is lined to the rafters with pure Scotch whiskey. Comrade Stalin would make him share and share alike.

Florence the Charity Worker walks up with a basket of paper poppies to raise money for wounded WW1 veterans.

Florence the Charity Worker (to Avner): Howdy. How’s your sister’s kid? Still ailing?

Avner: Yes’m. She’s run ragged caring for her brood.

Florence: Have them come by the church on Saturday. We’ve taken a collection for the needy.

Guy Folksie (stentorious) : They don’t need no church, madam. It’s the opium of the masses.

Avner: What’s opium?

Guy Folksie: It makes you sleep.

Florence : I don’t sleep in church! And we don’t have masses; we’re not Catholic.

Guy Folksie : You’re asleep with your eyes open. Don’t you know workers must unite and overthrow our oppressors?

Avner: Who are our oppressors?

Guy Folksie: The bosses. The… (looks at Florence) ...authorities.

Avner: How do you overthrow them?

Guy Folksie (disingenuous): Unite.

Florence : Who’s in charge of you rabble, looking to overthrow – (grabs his flyer and reads it)

Guy Folksie (tries to grab flyer back): Nobody’s our boss. That’s the point. Comrade Stalin is just leading us to seize the means of production.

Avner (to him): Then workers will be the bosses! And your cellars will be stacked to the rafters with whiskey!
(sees Florence giving him a dirty look) 

Florence : You’re better off thirsting for the living water; it quenches both body and spirit.

Guy Folksie (smug triumph) : Opium of the masses.

Florence (to Avner) : Tell your sister about Saturday.

(to Guy) And tell your commander Stalin that overthrowing will be his ticket to damnation.

(Florence walks away to offer her poppies elsewhere.)

Guy Folksie (to Avner) : Well, do you want my broadsheet? Only one cent.

Avner: No thanks. I reckon I should check in on my sister. I can lend her a hand.

(Waves his good left hand; starts to leave)

Will your Stalin be overthrowing here soon, do y’think?

Guy Folksie : Maybe in November.

Avner (walking away) : If I have a good job by then, try not to overthrow that boss, all right?

Guy Folksie (shouts humorously) : I’ll convince him to call a strike against his own business! Or else!


[Guy Folksie’s Flyer] 


WORKERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! 

Germany’s Comrade Hitler says that we socialists are the enemies of today’s capitalist system of exploitation. A general STRIKE will cause capitalism to collapse! Until that moment, take heroic steps to impress on your neighbors that they are either for the workers or against us. Our aims justify any measure; don’t hold back! Soon, in our UTOPIA ruled by the workers, the bourgeoisie will obey the dictation of us, the proletariat. Industry will belong to the nation (a justice that Italy’s Comrade Mussolini calls corporatism). National socialism is a formula of solidarity within the spiritual bonds and iron discipline of which the elite and the masses can cooperate for the COMMON GOOD.
True liberty is our sense of security, safe within the centralized State. 

Consumers – when they halt their greed and think – know their true treasures are our bloodlines and the soil on which we stand! Even more than our unity as the working class, our greatest bond is ethnic identity. Join as one family against the bankers, as guided by Father Charles Coughlin. Stand up to other nations who seek to exploit us, as Comrade Stalin has in the United Soviet Socialist Republics. Evolution proves that racial struggle will bring about the triumph of superior blood (as explained by German philosopher Martin Heidegger). Rulers are effete; socialism is EVOLUTION! 

Arise, ye workers, from your slumber. Arise, ye prisoners of want! 
History is written by the VICTORS! 


SKIT #2

Two Teenagers, 
1930 
(by VC Bestor)


[Boy sits beside Girl in parlor, helping ball up her skeins of woolen yarn.] 

Girl (daringly): Science says that humans slowly developed from monkeys.

Boy: Science isn’t majority rule of the loudest bullies. Science belongs to whoever demands proof.

Girl: Proof? ...Maybe they’ll find a fossil of the missing link.

Boy: Fossils don’t show proof of Darwin’s theory. Not at all.

Girl (feigning contempt): I think you’re the missing link to monkeys.

Boy: The eyeball is too complex to have developed gradually. Evolution can’t explain complicated details. It’s not the devil in those details.

Girl: You’re just a monkey who’s thinks he’s in God’s image.

Boy: You think scientists are Gods. What do you think of mathematicians?

Girl (flirty): They’re monkeys like you.

Boy: They say the mathematical chance of life developing from random changes is zero.

(They finish balling the yarn.)

Girl: If God created Darwin, how can his theory be wrong?

Boy: That’s it. You’ve won the argument.

Girl (proudly holds up knitting needles) : I’m going to be a god to this yarn and turn it into a cardigan.

Boy (stands up to leave): I’ll go tell the sheep that you created them. (Waves bye) Baa baaa! Hey, why don’t you just leave the yarn in a pile for a million years so it can evolve into a cardigan. (Leaves)

Girl (meaning him): Monkeys make so much noise. But what purpose do they really serve?

(Boy makes monkey sounds from outside.)

Boy (returns with book, reads it like a preacher): Darwin wrote: "If…. any complex organ existed which could not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive, slight modifications, my theory would absolutely break down."

Meanwhile, Girl throws skeins of yarn at him. Boy grabs one and runs away. She chases him out.

~FIN~ 


References include: "Darwin’s Dilemma” film, Stephen Meyer (Cambridge), Michael Behe (Lehigh) & Gerald Schroeder (MIT) 




SKIT #3

Monkey Shine 1930

(by VC Bestor)

Mom and Girl Daisy June in the parlor

Props: Sock Monkey & baby; Darning; Sewing bag; dozen small bottles

Note: All ‘mistakes’ are intentional


[Mom is darning; bag on floor. Girl with monkey under her arm is looking around for something.]


Girl: Fanny’s father was just arrested for bootlegging!

Mom: What are you looking for?

Girl: Monkey lost her baby. (finds bottle behind cushion) What’s this?

Mom (takes bottle & puts in bag): That’s from my medical tonic.

Girl: Fanny’s so worried. That was her dad’s only job. Now they’ll have nothing.

Mom: Police have to clamp down. The police have to keep everything under control.

Girl (finds another bottle): What did you put this here for?

Mom (takes bottle, puts in bag): I’m forgetful. Now, where did you last see your monkey baby?

Girl: I think he was resting in here while Monkey went with me to give apples to the mules.

(finds more bottles, gives to mom) 

Mom: There’s a law against abandoning your baby alone.

Girl: I hope the police don’t arrest Monkey!

Mom: Laws protect us from our own worst instincts. (Picks bag off floor; bottles clink)

Girl: Fanny’s brother says there’s a law that schools have to teach that mankind used to be monkeys. People a million years ago were monkeys, or something.

Mom: He should be afraid to meet his maker; he must be drinking his dad’s moonshine!

Girl: He tried to give me a taste but it was too horrible.

Mom: Daisy June, I forbid you to talk to that boy ever again! Don’t ever act familiar with drinkers!

Girl (finds baby monkey): Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine! (holds up & kisses baby)

[Mom takes a stealthy swig of medicine]… 


The author VC Bestor is Director of the non-profit 
a project encouraging women to engage constructively with apex predators.
"Find the meat of the matter"
V.C Bestor on Twitter

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