Do You Come Here Often?

Hi there. Is this seat taken? Thank you. Dana, right? Yeah, I noticed you on my television the other day. You were standing on the podium in the White House Press Room, answering questions from the press corps. They are totally annoying, aren't they? Seeing you was a pleasant surprise! I had been expecting Tony Snow, or some other Presidential representative from Fox News. (How's Tony doing, btw? I hope he gets the treatment he needs and recovers soon. Even though I couldn't stand his smarmy attitude on Fox, he was a tolerable Press Secretary. He had backbone, not like that wishy-washy little bitch Scott McClellan.)

Anyway, when I saw you for the first time, I thought you were positively radiant! What color are your eyes? Gray, yes they look gray. Really stunning. They're the color of gunmetal, almost. "Your eyes possess the powerful vibrance of a firearm, he said." How romantic; I'm such an idiot. Anyway, the other day I was watching you -- on t.v. of course -- I haven't been stalking you, don't worry. I saw your gunmetal eyes dart from reporter to reporter as you responded to inane questions, like "Why are we still in Iraq?" and "Is Guastavino, er, I mean, Attorney General Gonzalez going to resign?" and "What is the President going to do about the mess at Walter Reed Hospital?"

Fools, all of them! How dare they ask such stupid questions in your presence? No, I don't normally talk like that. I've just been on this medieval kick lately. I think my head's in a time warp, it happens once every 15 years. Don't mind me.

It was amazing to me how you were able to parry the reporters' inquisitive barbs, answering but not answering them at the same time. I was SO impressed, Dana. Really, you are a master already, and you have not been at this very long, have you? Watching you control those animals like a lion tamer really turned me on. Your short, Dorothy Hamill-esque blonde hair waving to and fro as you turned and pointed to a new questioner, not really caring whether it was that piss ant troublemaker David Gregory, the ass-kissing John King, or the Big Lady with the Bad Questions, Helen Thomas. You had such a "je ne sais quoi" attitude about it, the whole thing was totally hot. Are you French by any chance? Wait, Perino's Italian, isn't it? Cool.

Then when you fixated on one person, your hair would stop in midair and cascade down, framing your beautiful face and those lovely cheekbones. You are a genetic marvel, seriously, Dana. Do you mind if I touch your hair? Oh, it's positively luxurious, very thick. Thank you for letting me touch it.

I've always had a thing for women with short hair. I don't know where it started, but I think it began with my prepubescent crushes on Pat Benatar and Toni Tennille in the 70s. Big crushes. Pat singing "Hell Is For Children" onstage, she was so pissed off and kick ass. And then, when I was in the mood for something softer, there was Toni with the Captain, he of the ubiquitous blinding white flared dress slacks and dark blue blazer, both of which complemented his Captain's hat and sunglasses. (Always with the sunglasses. For years, I wondered if the man was blind.) Toni was so sexy. Her thin, shapely legs darting out from a tasteful sundress as she sang a love ballad or catchy pop tune. So tan, with that bob haircut and beestung lips that opened to reveal impossibly white, white teeth. "You'd Better Shop Around" was one of my favorites. I've been shopping around for years, and "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," ha, ha. How many men do you know who could put Captain & Tennille and U2 together? I'm just that good, Dana, just that good.

No, I like long hair too. So if you grow it out, you'll still be attractive to me, don't worry. Ooh, that was presumptuous of me, wasn't it? Three Grey Goose and sodas, and I think we're getting married, ha ha. Still, I couldn't believe it when you walked in here for a drink. It was total kismet. Do you believe in kismet, Dana? I do! I mean, what are the odds? How often do you make it to Williamsburg? Not that often, eh? I'm not surprised, the neighborhood's a little rough around the edges. Not really a place for a classy lady like you, is it?

So let's talk more about you. Where ya from? Where'd ya go to school? Typical New York City-first-meeting-interview-b.s., I know. University of Southern Colorado? What was your major (cough). Communications with a minor in political science, I see. Nice. I was a poli sci major myself, yeah. Where am I on the political spectrum? Oh I'm pretty conservative. Yeah, down the line Republican. Pro-life, pro-death penalty. No contradiction to me, no way. Pro guns, I mean is the Second Amendment dead or is it alive? Five words: From My Cold Dead Hands. I'm anti-taxes too. The government already has the shakedown going on us, the upper middle class, hasn't it? I feel like I'm working my ass off for nothing. They take my money, and where does it go? Who the hell knows? Have you seen my tax dollars, because I haven't! They're probably spending it all on abortion clinics and defense lawyers for those Guantanamo terrorists, the bastards!

What else, oh, I'm pro family values, definitely. I think kids should be raised in one home by a man and a woman. Not by a divorced couple. Not by two men, or two women, or by a man and two women, or a woman and two men. Have I covered all the nuances? Marriage also should be between a man and a woman. I'm soooooooo anti-gay. No, not just anti gay rights. Anti gay. There literally should be no gays in the United States at all. Either they learn to be straight, or out they go, to Holland or Germany, where that shit is tolerated. Yes, it's an extreme view, I know, but that's just how I feel about it. And isn't that what God said in Leviticus? That "Man shalt not lay with another man" and "Thou shalt not allow gay people to propagate and obtaineth rights in thy future country pursuant to thy ratified constitution?" I haven't read the B-I-B-L-E in awhile, but Pat Robertson says it's in there. Yes, I have a few gay friends. I live in New York City, after all. No, I haven't told them about my views. I'm still in the closet about it, so to speak. Ha, ha! Ssssh.

As for foreign policy, I'm a big fan of the United States playing a robust role in the world. I just love that word, "robust." It sounds like it means, you know? RO-BUST. Wonderful word, but I digress. I'm a big fan of Guantanamo too. It's working, isn't it? No attacks on U.S. soil in 6 years. I mean who wants those Islamofascists in American jails where they can organize and cause more problems?

Needless to say, I voted for Bush twice, his father twice, and Reagan once. Why only once for Reagan? I was too young to vote before then. Sheesh, how old do I look, Dana??? Ha ha ha! Yes, the gray is coming in, it sure is! Oh, you're fun!

Yes, I was totally on board with the Iraq War and all that. I mean we all thought the guy had weapons of mass destruction. Even the French and the Russians thought so, am I right? Hussein had to go. The guy gassed his own people and did other bad things. Sure, some mistakes have been made. Okay, maybe a lot of mistakes. Abu Ghraib was a bit of a bump in the road. It'll blow over though. We'll throw some cash at it when the war's over. Bygones. Money solves a lot of problems, dudn't it? Seriously, does anyone remember My Lai? It's war, for crying out loud! Like Rummy, I mean, Defense Secretary Rumsfeld said, "You go to war with the army you've got, not the army you would like to have." When he said that, I thought to myself, you GO Rumsfeld! He's EXACTLY the guy we need in our history right now. War is not predictable and you can't foresee everything. Rumsfeld understood that. But they ran him out of town on a rail like a villain in a Clint Eastwood western, didn't they? Fucking liberals. Ooops, pardon my French there, Dana. Must be the Grey Goose talking. I normally don't swear like that. I'm a good boy.

You know, I even keep a blog online where I talk about some of these things, raise consciousness and all that. It's an information war out there, isn't it Dana? But you know that already, don't you. Making people aware of the issues is very important. Otherwise, this country's going to keep going down the shitter and those liberal commie a-holes are going to completely take over. Then where will we be? They've already got control of both coasts, the media, and Hollywood, plus or minus Charlton Heston. (Loved him in Planet of the Apes!) What's next? No, we've got to keep fighting them. Fighting for control of people's minds, on the radio, on television, and online.

What's my blog address? Uh... Hmmm... why am I not remembering it right now? How embarrassing, heh heh. Let's see, why don't I give it to you later, I'm sure it will come to me after a few more drinks. You look so sexy when you raise a dubious eyebrow, has anyone ever told you that, Dana?

Okay, okay. Here it is: www.mind-wanderer.typepad.com. I hope you don't find it boring. Where did I get the name? Well, I like to write about things that I think about, things that are in my head at any given point in time. And my writing tends to be more of a free write these days. Not too much editing. I have other things I like to do, and I can't spend an entire day editing every thought. Let the readers sort it out. My mind tends to wander a bit, hence the name. Yeah, it's not that original, I agree. But it's not easy to come up with a blog name when you have a world of options in front of you, literally every combination of words in the English dictionary. That's why I never got a tattoo. I could never decide on one symbol that I wanted to look at for the rest of my life. Too many options.

Just ask my father. One summer in the mid-1960s he gets hammered while he's on leave with his buddies in France and gets a tattoo of a naked woman on his upper arm. Wakes up the next day, sees what his drunkeness hath wrought, and promptly goes out and gets a tattoo of a big, black American eagle to cover up the nude lady. Have you ever seen a black eagle, Dana? I haven't. Now he looks like he was once a member of Hell's Angels, minus the long hair and extra body weight. One year we're walking around southern Italy on vacation and a kid comes up to my father -- dad's wearing short sleeves -- and the kid asks him if he had spent time in prison. My dad started laughing. I couldn't understand, but he explained that it was the tattoo that made the kid ask. Not for me, Dana. Not. For. Me.

Anywho, what brings you to Williamsburg? Just checking out the scene, okay. Yes, I've noticed a lot more European and Asian tourists here lately. Some travelzine must have increased the size of their Brooklyn section. Listen, why don't we get out of here and grab a bite at Dressler, on Broadway. Unless you're a steak woman, then we could hit Peter Luger. Do you like meat, Dana? Two raised eyebrows now... Okay, you don't eat meat. Dressler it is. Then maybe afterwards -- I don't live too far from here -- we could go back to my place, put on some Cure or Morcheeba and see where the night leads, eh? Whadayasay?

Or, and maybe this is just the vodka talking, I don't know, but I really feel a connection here, don't you, Dana? We're all looking for that special connection, aren't we? I mean, we have so much in common, you're a Republican, I'm a uh.. Republican (wince); you have beautiful gray, predator eyes, I love beautiful gray, predator eyes; you have sexy short blonde hair, I love sexy short blonde hair; you work out, I love women who work out; you're a Taurus, I'm a Virgo; you're in Williamsburg, I'm in Williamsburg.....

Why don't we run away together, Dana! Let's throw off the shackles of this hell-hole world, with its wars, poverty, billable hours, political infighting, human trafficking, road rage, graffiti, bulimia, drug abuse, celebrity obsession, and dysfunctional relationships, and just run away! We'll get in a car and drive west, like the pioneers did. When we get to California, we'll get plane tickets and fly to an island somewhere, maybe Hawaii, or Tahiti, we'll live off the land, until I can open a restaurant or a bar with my 401(k) savings and--

What? You're married? Oh. I didn't see the ring. For some reason, I never look at a woman's hands soon enough. Old habits, I guess. Wow. Are you happily married? You are. Hmmmm, okay. Well listen, it was nice chatting with you. Enjoy Williamsburg, and seriously, keep fighting the good fight. We really need you out there on the front lines. And please, give my best to Tony.

P.S. HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY!

Merlin & Guastavino

Once upon a time, Merlin -- King's confidant, wizard, advisor, whisperer, magicmaker, blood brother -- decided that something was wrong in the Land. Something had gone horribly awry. It seemed to Merlin that there were 8 Knights of the Roundtable who had become traitors to the King. 8 Knights who had shown that they were not loyal to the throne, that their fealty was hedged.

Though the Knights had been handpicked by the King upon his ascendancy to the throne, Merlin had decided that they were not wholly, unfailingly, and completely devoted to the perpetuation and extension of the King's power. He deduced this because, among other things, the Knights were not slaying the right dragons (Democrats and their ilk), and oftentimes, they were slaying the wrong dragons (fellow Republicans and their ilk). Exercising their own independent judgment, these 8 Knights freely pursued the enemies of the Land at their own pace, with careful contemplation, and without political purpose.

Merlin, who had the King's ear (the King was not very bright and thus relied upon Merlin a great deal), was greatly disturbed by this, which he viewed as a form of political impotence and apathy. The 8 Knights were not moving quickly enough against the enemies of the King. Indeed, some of them had quit pursuing the King's "most wanteds" entirely, which was unacceptable to Merlin.

"This disloyalty to the King must stop!" screamed Merlin to Guastavino, his young apprentice/lackey.

While a mere lackey in relation to Merlin, Guastavino was in fact the Head Knight of all the Knights of the Roundtable. He did not attain this position by his experience, mind you. Guastavino had never bled on the battlefield as had most of the Knights who served under him. He had never had his helmet punctured by an errant sword, or his nose shattered by a chainmail fist.

Rather, the chubby, young, bespectacled Guastavino had been appointed to his position by the King. Most residents in the Land surmised that the King favored Guastavino due to Guastavino's previously demonstrated, unwavering servitude to the King, when the King was merely a Lord in the feudal state of Illiterate. (The fact that Guastavino derived from the southern feudal state of Rosa Espagna didn't hurt either. The King loved those Espagnic votes.)

But now, NOW, Guastavino had attained the position of Knight of Knights! It didn't matter to him how he got there. He now possessed all of the powers associated with his new, exalted status: the Power of Subpoena; the Power of Incarceration; the Power of Eavesdrop; the Power of Knight Appointment; and last, but not least, the Power of Political Recrimination. Drunk with power, Guastavino used his new weapons with little discrimination, and often, with little common sense.

It didn't matter to him that the Landsfolk complained that his decisions curtailed their freedoms. Guastavino had one goal and one goal only. He wanted to be like Merlin. He wanted to be a King Whisperer. Maybe even become King himself one day! The first Espagnic King! So, with these ends in mind, he followed Merlin from place to place, harkened whatever advice and counsel he could, like a good apprentice, and repeatedly did Merlin's bidding without complaint and without conscience.

"Yes, sire, what shall ye have me do?"

"I want the 8 Knights eliminated. Gone, do you understand? They are traitors, all of them. Their loyalty to the King is as weak as the stem of a wilted flower in a cold rain. I need you to be the spring storm that snaps their heads off. They are of no use to us any longer."

"Yes, sire."

"We will replace them with more loyal servants who will do our bidding."

So, as he was instructed, Guastavino summarily dispatched the 8 Knights. Each of them was told (not by Guastavino himself of course, but by one of HIS lackeys, of which there are too many to count) that their services were no longer needed.

Both Merlin and Guastavino thought that the episode would end there, for no one seriously questioned the authority of the King to choose his own Knights. Surely no one would dispute his selective elimination of 8 of the 93 Knights who refused to bend to his political will. Indeed, the prior King, King Wilhelm Clintonian, III had himself terminated all 93 Knights who served under HIS predecessor when HE assumed the throne. It was common practice for kings to throw out the garbage and pick their own people, so to speak.

But then, much to everyone's surprise, a strange thing happened. The 8 Former Knights did not go quietly into that good night. No, they did not. They began to speak out. They held press conferences to tell their side of the story. They talked to newspapers, television shows, magazines, anyone who would listen. They complained that they had been wrongly dispatched for political reasons, not for lack of competence. Their professional reputations forever besmirched by the humiliating demotion to serfdom had left the 8 Former Knights with nothing to lose. And everyone knows that a knight with nothing left to lose is a dangerous lion indeed.

Needless to say, the Landsfolk were quite upset to learn that the 8 Former Knights had been fired for reasons other than incompetence, and that Merlin and Guastavino may have been behind a secret campaign to make the Knights appear hapless. The fact that each of the Former Knights had obtained excellent reviews during their tenure made things quite sweaty for Merlin and Guastavino. Indeed, it appeared that the typically untouchable Merlin had miscalculated this time. He hadn't sensed every variable. Perhaps he had lost his ability to remain above the political fray?

It was not long before governing Vicars and Drakes ("VDs") were calling for Merlin and Guastavino to explain their misdeeds to the Landsfolk, under oath. In fact, a number of the VDs were quite upset that Guastavino, who it seemed was called to appear before them every other week for various transgressions, had misled them during a prior hearing. This time, the VDs wanted to hear from Guastavino AND Merlin under oath. While the inhabitants of the Land held nothing sacred, most everyone in the Land still respected the B-I-B-L-E, even Merlin.

Ah, but Merlin had no intention of testifying under oath. Even though he had orchestrated the entire episode (along with many others from which he had escaped scrutiny, including the ill-advised public disclosure of the name of one of the Land's secret agents, Valencia Ploomage), he had no desire to have this come to light. And he had no interest whatsoever in sitting on the VD hotseat, answering difficult questions from pompous VDs, all under the glare of a white hot television spotlight. No, no, no, this was not for him. Merlin operated best BEHIND the scenes, where he could pull the King's ear and whisper into it.

And so it was, one cold, March evening that Merlin said to the King:

"Why don't you have Guastavino testify under oath about these matters? He is already in bad favour with the Landsfolk. Things cannot get much worse for him than they already are."

"Hmmmm, you have a point, Merlin," said the King.

"Yes, sire, we have far more pressing matters to attend to, with the war in Arabica, ongoing negotiations with Kouria del Nord, and your legacy, of course. We cannot be bothered with these trivial fights with VDs. You are KING of all the Land, after all."

"Yes Merlin, your words make much sense. Guastavino will testify. I am so glad to have you here when things take a negative turn. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You will never have to worry about that, sire."

So, at Merlin's urging, the King threw Guastavino to the dogs. He directed Guastavino to testify before the VDs, and, like a good soldier, Guastavino did not divulge anything that would cast a scent upon Merlin and the King. He did so even though he knew he would lose his title as Knight of Knights before a fortnight was out. The people simply wouldn't have him any longer after this, another messy debacle on his watch.

But the VDs were not satisfied with just Guastavino. They wanted Merlin. And they wanted him under oath.

"Sire, this won't do, this won't do at all! We have to fight this, we must!"

"But what shall we do, Merlin? They are picking a battle over this, and the entire episode does not bode well for us. Everyone holds Knights in high esteem, and as you know, things in Arabica are not going well, and this is the last thing I need right now."

The King had a point. Though he was dimwitted, he was not wholly stupid. Neither was Merlin. So they came up with a plan. You see, both the King and Merlin had learned from the nefarious exploits and ensuing turmoil that had plagued the prior King, Wilhelm Clintonian, III.

Unfortunately, King Wilhelm had been prone to philandering. It was his Achilles heel, a fact that was well known even before he assumed the throne. So it was one starry night, that King Wilhelm made the mistake of getting his Royal Knob shined but good by a young, ambitious, moon-eyed lass who had been working as an apprentice in the White Castle. After having received numerous sceptre polishings from the young woman for many months, King Wilhelm got uh, a bit cocky (no pun intended, heh heh), and stopped taking precautions. Eventually he was caught red-handed, after having left his Royal Seal on the apprentice's blue dress.

Before long, King Wilhelm had so mucked up the situation that he found himself testifying under oath before a Grand Jury of Landsfolk. Rather than confess to his right good knob-waxing (a situation that all the menfolk in the Land surely would have understood, wot wot), King Wilhelm attempted to dance around the Inquisitor's questions with carefully parsed answers.

Oh, that was his downfall, it was! Soon after, the poor King was disgraced and impeached for lying to the Grand Jury. Though he still retained his Kingship, it was not quite the same thereafter. While some (including this Author), viewed the entire lurid episode as a political assassination that did nothing to further the Land's interests, others saw the King's downfall as his just desserts.

The point of all this, of course, is that the current King and Merlin (and likely all future Kings and Queens) have learned a great deal from what transpired with King Wilhelm. But mostly, they have learned thus: If one wants to engage in misdeeds while not suffering a similar fate as King Wilhelm, one has to AVOID testifying under oath at all costs. One has to AVOID placing one's hand on the B-I-B-L-E whose holiness and sanctity are beyond question. One must avoid swearing to tell the truth.

THIS way, no one can be prosecuted for perjury.

THIS way, one can lie and get away with it.

Oh and one more thing, one must avoid televised public hearings before VDs. Those just make you look stupid.

"Make them a proposal," said Merlin to the King.

"What kind of proposal?"

"A reasonable proposal. Tell those arrogant VDs that you don't want a fight over this. Tell them that you are prepared to fight, to assert the King's Privilege. Tell them you will consent to have me testify, but ONLY if (1) I do not have to testify under oath, and (2) I can testify in private."

"Do you think they will accept that?"

"Sure they will. What choice do they have? Otherwise, you can threaten to assert the King's Privilege, and I will not have to testify at all."

"But what if this dispute ends up in the Judicia Supremus?"

"Not to worry, sire. Remember, the majority of the judges in the Judicia Supremus are well positioned in our favour. Nearly all of them are Republicans, and you personally appointed two of them, including the Chief Justice. Moreover, the Judicia Supremus is largely responsible for your original ascension to the throne, do you not remember?"

"Ah yes, you are right again, Merlin! Sometimes I forget and think that I ascended the throne of my own doing!"

(Raucous laughter ensues between Merlin and the King)

"Sire, just remember to keep saying that you are offering them a REASONABLE proposal. Keep using the word REASONABLE as often as possible. We must appear that we are being REASONABLE. They are the litigious ones. The ones who are UN-reasonable. Turn the tables on them."

"Yes, yes, I think I can remember that."

"Sire, our political future depends on your remembering that one word: REASONABLE."

So how will this free-write of a story end? Will Merlin testify? Will he testify under oath? In private? Never?

Good Landsfolk, you must stay tuned for the answer.