Manifest Destiny — the fairy tale

After reading Mikey’s post, J and I went a bit overboard with political correctness. Trying to make “YOU’RE FAT” sound inoffensive can be hard work. So is “F*cking nerds.” (Reproductively active literatis for f***’s sake! hahaha!)

That lead to a rereading of a couple of JF Garner’s politically correct fairy tales. Here’s an excerpt from The Three Little Pigs:

One day, along came a big, bad wolf with expansionist ideas. He saw the pigs and grew very hungry, in both the physical and ideological sense. When the pigs saw the wolf, they ran into the house of straw. The wolf ran up to the house and banged on the door, shouting, “Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

The pigs shouted back, “Your gunboat tactics hold no fear for pigs defending their homes and culture.”

But the wolf wasn’t to be denied what he thought was his manifest destiny.So he huffed and he puffed and he blew down the house of straw. The frightened pigs ran to the house of sticks, with the wolf in hot pursuit. Where the house of straw had stood, other wolves bought up the land and started a banana plantation. At the house of sticks, the wolf again banged on the door and shouted,

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

The pigs shouted, “Go to hell, you carnivorous, imperialistic oppressor!”

At this, the wolf chuckled condescendingly. He thought to himself: “They are so childlike in their ways. It will be a shame to see them go, but progress cannot be stopped.”

So the wolf huffed and puffed and blew down the house of sticks. The pigs ran to the house of bricks, with the wolf close at their heels. Where the house of sticks had stood, other wolves built a time-share condo resort complex for vacationing wolves, with each unit a fiberglass reconstruction of the house of sticks, as well as native curio shops, snorkeling, and dolphin shows.

If you want more, buy the book. 🙂

I’m endlessly tickled by fairy tales because they mirror the incredulity of life.

Once upon a time, in a tiny corridor plagued with political unrest, there lived a small group of people.

First is the King who thinks he can do anything no matter how crazy or heartless it is, and if someone has the gall to object he just stamps a foot and says “I am the King.” His advisers squabble and quarrel everyday and he merely follows the one with the loudest voice and shortest temper. He shall be deposed or replaced by someone as divine and commanding as Daniel Day-Lewis unless a genie comes and grants his wish for a spine.

There is the self-important Fool who thinks he’s the foundation of the whole workplace and goes to great lengths to let everyone know that. When in fact that person does nothing but check the stock market all day and kiss the King’s ass while his colleagues break their backs trying to earn a living. This character shall go on a permanent vacation (to the delight of his peers) and will be gifted with a giant sucker at the end of the tale.

And how can we have a story without a Cassandra–an oracle who predicts and gives wise advice but is never believed. She is strangely feared but under-appreciated and is often ill-used. Very soon, she will have enough, collect her substantial separation pay and fly to California with her husband.

Lastly, there are the two scribes, Watson and Puck. They’re mostly ignored and forgotten while copious political shit flies around freely. Watson will find a more lucrative job that will allow him to fiddle with as many gadgets as he wants while Puck will hook up with Daniel Day-Lewis and resign because intra-palace relationships are discouraged. She’ll buy a MacBook and continue blogging like a madwoman.

The End.


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