Illegal Aliens and Such
Today was the appointed day to mow the fire ant farm. What once was a lawn has now become the haven for millions upon millions of swarming, stinging, biting fire ants. What about this particular plot of Carolina red clay proved so inviting to the advance scouts as they trudged north from points unknown? Is there an underground flashing neon sign saying Mecca just ahead?
These illegal aliens feel so smug with their massive numbers that they think they can come and just squat on my property. I know that since they have moved into the neighborhood property values have plummeted. Their presence is not wanted. No one likes them. It really is not about their color or their hideous little red houses that they insist on building here and there and wait, there’s another one just popped up over on the, why of all places, the front stoop! They don’t know their place at all. Soon they’ll be moving in the house, the little ingrates. Oh, they aren’t just satisfied with just a little bit of the Promised Land; they want the whole thing!
I have discreetly asked around.
“What are we going to do about this problem?” I’ve asked. “Are we just going to let them take over your property and my property and the whole street and neighborhood?”
When they answer, they always avert their eyes or look this way and that way to see if someone is listening. They hang their heads and say, “We’ve tried all we know. We bulldozed their stinking little red hill homes with our lawn mowers, but the next day, there were five hills next to the bulldozed one. We got tired of bulldozing, so we went down to the local seller of Weapons of Mass Destruction - Lowe’s - and armed ourselves with a shopping cart full of chemical agents. We nearly had a heart attack on our way home when we were pulled over by the police at that license check. We knew we were going to be arrested as terrorists or fugitives from Idaho under the provisions of Patriot Act. But somehow we made it through the checkpoint. When we got home, we unleashed the Mother of All Assaults knowing that we would finally be freed from the terrorist tyranny. We peppered their red hill homes with enough chemicals to make a sane person think it was the Battle of Armageddon.”
They always pause at this point. I see a faraway look in their eyes and a tear wells up and slowly slides down the side of their weathered cheeks. I see the battle has somehow aged them. Then they pick up the story.
“You know we spent nearly all our grocery money on the Weapons that first week. It’s like they taught in Economics class. It’s either guns or butter. We thought that we could just spend a little on the Weapons, but it got out of control. It’s causing problems inside the house now. Some think we have gone too far.”
One of the fellows interrupted, “Yeah, I been sleepin’ on the couch since we launched the attack down our way. Never knew the old lady was a peacenik and an environmentalist. All I know is I’d like to have a nice green lawn. I’d like to have the freedom to go out and cut my grass on my own property with my own lawn mower in peace and not have the continual threat of swirling red dust when I pass over those mounds. Weren’t we promised unalienable rights, liberty and life and whatnot in the Declaration of Independence, or the Preamble to the Constitution, or the Magna Carta, or something like that? Where will it all end?”
The sad part is that many of these battle-scarred homeowners have spent themselves into poverty trying to rid themselves of the stinging menace, but to no avail. After an all out assault, they all say the enemy is back the next morning. And if it rains, it’s like another bunch has swum across the Rio Grande overnight to set up house. Now after waging war so long, they are tired and haggard and worn down. They have resigned themselves to seeking peace with honor now. They will just live with the little - - - .
When we talk, someone always brings up the question “Why?
Where did they come from? And what caused the invasion? We all want answers. Someone said it was global warming, or El Nino or La Nina or some such Latin name. Maybe the aurora borealis or latitude or longitude. I never was good at those science words. I am thinking that maybe there are other possibilities. I know about the multi-national corporations and their conspiracies, how they are all tied to the pharmaceutical and pesticide industry – Aren’t they the same? – and they are tied to the AMA and the hospitals and HMOs. Yes, that’s it, they have turned the little stinging aforementioned - - - loose in this country so we will all run down to the WMD store and unleash a chemical attack which will put carcinogens into the environment which will make us sick which will make us go to the doctor which will make us put more chemicals in our bodies which will put us into the hospital which will make money for the hospital, the doctors, the HMOs, the pharmaceutical companies, the WMD companies, the multi-national corporations, and yes, even the Pentagon! It’s all economic. My once green lawn is now part of the global economy.
What an epiphany!
Today I went out to mow my fire ant farm.
These illegal aliens feel so smug with their massive numbers that they think they can come and just squat on my property. I know that since they have moved into the neighborhood property values have plummeted. Their presence is not wanted. No one likes them. It really is not about their color or their hideous little red houses that they insist on building here and there and wait, there’s another one just popped up over on the, why of all places, the front stoop! They don’t know their place at all. Soon they’ll be moving in the house, the little ingrates. Oh, they aren’t just satisfied with just a little bit of the Promised Land; they want the whole thing!
I have discreetly asked around.
“What are we going to do about this problem?” I’ve asked. “Are we just going to let them take over your property and my property and the whole street and neighborhood?”
When they answer, they always avert their eyes or look this way and that way to see if someone is listening. They hang their heads and say, “We’ve tried all we know. We bulldozed their stinking little red hill homes with our lawn mowers, but the next day, there were five hills next to the bulldozed one. We got tired of bulldozing, so we went down to the local seller of Weapons of Mass Destruction - Lowe’s - and armed ourselves with a shopping cart full of chemical agents. We nearly had a heart attack on our way home when we were pulled over by the police at that license check. We knew we were going to be arrested as terrorists or fugitives from Idaho under the provisions of Patriot Act. But somehow we made it through the checkpoint. When we got home, we unleashed the Mother of All Assaults knowing that we would finally be freed from the terrorist tyranny. We peppered their red hill homes with enough chemicals to make a sane person think it was the Battle of Armageddon.”
They always pause at this point. I see a faraway look in their eyes and a tear wells up and slowly slides down the side of their weathered cheeks. I see the battle has somehow aged them. Then they pick up the story.
“You know we spent nearly all our grocery money on the Weapons that first week. It’s like they taught in Economics class. It’s either guns or butter. We thought that we could just spend a little on the Weapons, but it got out of control. It’s causing problems inside the house now. Some think we have gone too far.”
One of the fellows interrupted, “Yeah, I been sleepin’ on the couch since we launched the attack down our way. Never knew the old lady was a peacenik and an environmentalist. All I know is I’d like to have a nice green lawn. I’d like to have the freedom to go out and cut my grass on my own property with my own lawn mower in peace and not have the continual threat of swirling red dust when I pass over those mounds. Weren’t we promised unalienable rights, liberty and life and whatnot in the Declaration of Independence, or the Preamble to the Constitution, or the Magna Carta, or something like that? Where will it all end?”
The sad part is that many of these battle-scarred homeowners have spent themselves into poverty trying to rid themselves of the stinging menace, but to no avail. After an all out assault, they all say the enemy is back the next morning. And if it rains, it’s like another bunch has swum across the Rio Grande overnight to set up house. Now after waging war so long, they are tired and haggard and worn down. They have resigned themselves to seeking peace with honor now. They will just live with the little - - - .
When we talk, someone always brings up the question “Why?
Where did they come from? And what caused the invasion? We all want answers. Someone said it was global warming, or El Nino or La Nina or some such Latin name. Maybe the aurora borealis or latitude or longitude. I never was good at those science words. I am thinking that maybe there are other possibilities. I know about the multi-national corporations and their conspiracies, how they are all tied to the pharmaceutical and pesticide industry – Aren’t they the same? – and they are tied to the AMA and the hospitals and HMOs. Yes, that’s it, they have turned the little stinging aforementioned - - - loose in this country so we will all run down to the WMD store and unleash a chemical attack which will put carcinogens into the environment which will make us sick which will make us go to the doctor which will make us put more chemicals in our bodies which will put us into the hospital which will make money for the hospital, the doctors, the HMOs, the pharmaceutical companies, the WMD companies, the multi-national corporations, and yes, even the Pentagon! It’s all economic. My once green lawn is now part of the global economy.
What an epiphany!
Today I went out to mow my fire ant farm.
posted by Manuel at 11:02 PM
4 Comments:
I AM LOVING THIS BLOG! As for the anthills, you could always try pouring gasoline down the anthill. Uh, don't smoke while doing this.
Thank you so much, Ryan. That comment means so much, especially coming from one of my favorite people in the world.
And thank you Mike. I am deeply humbled and flattered by your statement.
Thanks Ashley!
Vacuumed the house.
And I had dinner with Summer in Spartanburg.
I love this post even more than the last one! I can already tell this website will be nothing less than iconic. You take multiple topics worthy of your cynicism and weave them into a continuous diatribe - all while channelling the layman's attention to fire ants.
Genius! :)
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