Tag Archives | politics

William Shatner’s Inaugural Address

(After Winning the First Post-Two-Party Presidential Election)

william shatner, president

Friends, Americans, Countrymen! Lend me your ears. I come to bury our two-party system, not praise it.

I stand before you today, not as a conqueror, not as pop icon, but as your President. An American president.

Now, what I say next is not said with malice, but I bet you few, pathetic, angry, angry Republicans left standing now regret amending the Constitution so the Governator could be eligible, don’t you? Eh? Just a little bit?

Come on, a robot against Captain Kirk? It’s insulting!

Our new system will have to adapt, to find new worlds, to boldly go where no POTUS has gone before. I gotta’ tell you, this is more fun than pantsing George Takei.

They told me to be Presidential, so I should say that I intend to bring our country together. No more petty infighting between two groups that basically represent the same interests. We can look forward to petty infighting amongst dozens of groups, which represent the same interests.

My party, the Federation Party (or the Star Trek Party as it’s known to the Twitterati) is open to all Americans. It is a cooperative party, an optimisit party, which is why WE are forming a government. If we can cooperate with the Star Wars Ascendancy Party of America and the American Stargate Association, then we can cooperate with anyone. Even Ralph Nader.

I’m looking forward to working with my Vice-President, Mark Hamill. He looks easy to control. I like that. I’m not sure about Richard Dean Anderson. The agreement is that we’ll make him the Secretary of State, but I’m not sure he’s up to it. I think we should give him Transportation or Energy where he can do less damage, but the agreement was State, so what the hell.

This is my inaugural address, so I should give you some kind of indication of where I plan to take the country in the next four years. Space, naturally. If I don’t do something space-wise the fanboys are going to crucify me. Seriously, the only reason I’m not wearing a Starfleet uniform to this thing is that I threatened to turn everything over to Hamill if they made me wear it.

So Mars, definitely. And whatever new gizmos we can come up with. Personally, I want a phaser that will allow me to stun Leonard Nimoy’s cryogenically preserved head whenever he starts to go on a policy rant. He helped me run a great campaign and he’s gonna be a terrifying Chief of Staff.

But today is all about me!  And America. Yay America!

And for all you Canadians, filled with pride there is finally a Canadian-born President of the United States, I have some good news and bad news. First the good: the border crossing is going to be much easier. You won’t need a green card to work in the USA anymore. And I’m going to insist to the CRTC that you get to watch American Super Bowl ads.

Bad news? We’re gonna’ need Alberta. And the Winnipeg Jets, for some reason.

The End

Now vote with your wallet, and buy some long-form satirical fiction:

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Thag not like politcs!

wooly mammoth

Thag had made his decision — he was not taking Onga back, even if the shaman, Weasel-Scratch-Face-Brother, insisted. Thag could see why Weasel wanted him to take her back; Onga was driving the shaman crazy.

The flesh-pole with ears shaman insisted. And Thag refused.

Weasel then lobbied Onga’s father, Bushenior to force Thag to take her back. The Elder was fairly influential within the tribe, and he told Thag that if he did not take Onga back, he would install his son, Dubyag, as the new leader of the hunters over Thag.

“Dubyag not good hunter,” Thag said.

“Maybe,” Bushenior said, “but he’s my son, and Onga is my daughter. I can convince the other Elders that I am right.”

“What of hunters?” Thag asked. “Bad for hunters Dubyag lead them. He get kicked in head by wooly rhino. Other hunters get kicked in head. Bad for hunters.”

“I don’t care if it’s bad for the hunters. It will make you do what I want,” Bushenior said.

“Bad for tribe,” Thag said quietly.

“Only in the short term. You will buckle under.”

It ran against every instinct he had, but Thag said: “Elder can go have grunties with cave lion.”

And so Thag was relieved of his position as lead hunter, but not after inconsiderable arm twisting by Onga’s father. As Thag had predicted, the first expedition led by Dubyag was a disaster.

In a classic case of over-ambition, the brain-damaged Dubyag convinced the other hunters they should take down a big male mammoth. During rutting season. Fonzag, the newly adopted Thunka Grunka and mate to the nubile Vunga (half-daughter of the shaman), was well-liked amongst the hunters, despite his adoptive status and unusual approach to hair grooming (he spiked it with tree resin gel); Fonzag was himself almost turned into a kind of gel by the back left foot of the enraged mammoth, escaping only because of his diminutive size. His buddy, Malphag, was not quite as lucky, as the mammoth sat on him.

“Heyyyy, don’t sit on Malphy!”

Mrogak, the brother of Mrog (who had been killed by a cave lion the year before), discovered the wonders of flight, as the mammoth picked him up with his trunk, and flung him from the edge of the cliff they had hoped to drive the mammoth over. Mrogak, unfortunately, was not as excited by the wonders of landing.

Other hunters suffered some broken bones, bruises, and Bushenior’s other idiot son, Bejag, somehow managed to stab himself with his own spear. He would live. In shame.

Dubyag was leading from the rear, and was the only hunter not hurt, except for Thag, who had forseen the disaster, and got behind a rock big enough to be protected from the rampaging mammoth. (At least a few of the other hunters had followed his example.)

When they finally got the wounded back to the cave, and the dead buried, Thag did his first painting of humans.

It showed a wooly mammoth copulating with Dubyag, while his father watched, the Elder’s head just barely visible over the enormous pile of droppings he was buried under.

Original mammoth pic by Hughes. Mammoth amounts of dung here. Originally published in 2006.

Ask General Kang: Do you pardon your followers, even if they did something wrong?

Ask General KangI would never pardon a follower if they did ME wrong, but if they made a “mistake” and were then penalized by the legal community, I might decide to save them from doing prison time — particularly if they’re a delicate primate who wouldn’t last very long in a prison population composed of heavier hominids with questionable sexual practices.

I once had an aide-de-camp, a ethically deficient über-chimp named “Pipper”, who was a consummate lickspittle. Pipper did everything I told him, no matter how demeaning or insane. I mean, I once asked him to take the Imperial Shuttle to Immersia VI to get me a shrimp-and-banana frappe in the middle of a close-fought battle with the Slug People of Neebie-neebie. (The Gorilloid-with-Fezes Brigade finally turned the tide of battle in our favor when they abandoned their signature broadswords for salt shakers.)

But Pipper was quite happy to get me the frappe, even though Immersia VI is an all-water planet, and he can’t even swim.

And then he was arrested for illegally wire-tapping a few of the other Imperial über-chimp’s phones. Now, technically speaking, he wasn’t allowed to do that, even though I’d ordered it, so he was convicted. He never ratted me out, so I kept him from being sent to the soap-dropping machine.

What if they do something wrong to you?

Let’s just say there wouldn’t be much left for the judicial system to convict.

Next time: Even though I’m thinking positive thoughts, this black hole continues to suck me into its event horizon — what am I doing wrong?

Alltop loves the soap machine! Originally published July, 2007. You read that right — 2007.