Editors note: This week’s column is purely an imaginative work of satire and invention.
The thought of useless, barely decorative Socialite-Lite Paris Hilton “caged” and screaming, as the Grudge Report puts it, rather than eating or sleeping, while war criminals/election fraudmeisters Cheney-Bush & Co. roam free, boggles the mind – although such contradictions abound in this great country of ours, don’t they?
Notwithstanding Mumia Abu-Jamal, who may be innocent, therefore most certainly deserves a new trial, I submit it’s the divas who suffer most behind bars. And yet, if they survive prison, the experience can transfigure and transform them – think how Martyr Stew-It slimmed down as if merely returning from an extended stay at a posh spa!
Meanwhile, louche James Bond look-alike Vladimir Putin privately proclaims to his Politburo, or whatever they’re currently calling Russia’s rubber-stamp ruling body, “We must be going in to capture, uh, rescue Hilton girl-woman from those stupid Americanskis. They commit huge human rights violation keeping her in jail-cell behind glass door like fishbowl. They take pictures of her on prison toilet with secret camera. Is scandalous treatment. Besides, we need her as sleek and tawny hood ornament for the New Russia, and we need her now! Or else we slip badly in polls. The proletariat, um, the public-nik, starting to have suspicion we are really Retro Regime.”
Which bodes badly for Putin’s future re-election as dictator-for-life.
His planned rescue operation, dubbed “Nova-Russkaya-Paris-Hiltona-Nyet,” calls for full-scale Russian intervention – an invasion of the summer camp, excuse me, country club, er, prison cell where Paris Hilton’s being incarcerated and reportedly fed psychotropic drugs. “You mean,” my fond friend, “Freddy from Fresno,” not his real name, shudders, “armed Russians on American soil?”
Yup. Armadas and flotillas.
“Then we’re doomed,” “Freddy” frowns. “Why don’t they at least pick on Gitmo?”
In case you haven’t noticed, gradually Putin has switched gears if not personas. Lately, instead of his trademark sarcasm, he’s growling brutishly and making other scary warlike noises in the direction of the USA, which probably has nothing to do with the Bushling skipping a few G-8 sessions and claiming a tummy ache so he could sleep in. No wonder there are signs of a new Cold War brewing. For starters, Putin probably can’t stand Bush’s dreadful nickname for him – Pootie-Poot.
But how can the, um, president of the United States do that in the court of world opinion – call in sick to a global summit? “Freddy from Fresno” inveighs. “Besides,” says “Freddy, ” “they claim Bush is so healthy. ”
Pretty much – minus pretzels or bicycles or booze in his proximity.
Freddy theorizes further: Perhaps our putative presidunk was poisoned at the G-8?
“Nah,” I demur. “Too obvious. Otherwise he’d be staging costumed re-enactments of his daddy’s projectile-vomiting scene at diplomatic dinners with heads of state.”
Hey, what if Bush-Wah and his departing poodle Blair had a farewell bender the evening before and Georgie-Boy was too sloshed to attend the G-8 morning conclave?
But “Freddy” reminds me GWB doesn’t drink. Rigggggghhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttt.
Anyway, just suppose Putin – whose late grandfather was a cook for both Lenin and Stalin – but now has an oh-so-decadent dacha as big as the Ritz – really does propose “rescuing” Paris Hilton, fattening her up with limitless midnight snacks of caviar blini with sour cream and vodka chasers?
He’d at least snag the support of some Internet chat-room circles.
- Chatter 1: I can hear the news: “April 5 2050, 2 a.m., President Hilton, our most beloved world leader, died at the world peace summit; Hilton’s greatest accomplishments as president involved ending world hunger and curing cancer.”
- Chatter 2: Paris Hilton has already written the first part of her 45-day stay in jail. Papillon.
- Chatter 3: Now Hilton’s even more interesting – not a chance she’ll ever be out of the news. I bet she’ll probably get her own TV station.
Next thing you know, Putin’ll hold Paris hostage – the person, not the city – until she agrees to be official spokes-bimbo for the not-so-nearly-new Russia and its revisionist regime seeking to renew the Bad Old Days.
Talk about yer Star Wars! Just imagine– Technicolor images of Paris Hilton’s face and torso plastered all over Russian missiles – flying billboards delivering instant death, while Putin’s proclaiming deliriously, “We’ll always have Paris!”
Meanwhile, cautionary words for our country, from another online chatter: “Look, [unlike Paris Hilton], some of you know you’re not very bright, and that’s OK. It’s the dopey women who think their clich? opinions have merit who help undermine the republic.”
Surprise! America’s in trouble.
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