Written by Mark Sides

Sunday, 23 December 2007


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[Official Press Release from the desk of Dependent Party Candidate, Ferbert T. Weedledom.]

Hello, fellow Citizens. My name is Ferbert T. Weedledom. I am the founder of the Gravity-Challenged Citizens of America (and I am also a client).

I come to you today to declare my candidacy for President of the United States. I think I speak for all of us when I say the time has come that we recognize the vast majority of Americans who, like myself, can no longer tolerate the 40-hour workweek and its requisite need to remain vertical for up to two or three hours at a time between breaks.

I personally do not recall voting on the 40-hour workweek. And I point out in my attached comprehensive fiscal policy how this actually amounts to taxation without representation (something our Forefathers wouldn't have tolerated, by George), because it's not easy to remain upright and awake for that long a period of time. We weren't meant to stand upright, you know. Just ask Darwin. Sorry, I don't have his number.

But, anyway, my candidacy for President is imbedded deeply in the bedrock of what most Americans realize is their inalienable right to loaf. These people who work day and night, take a two-hour catnap and return to work, they're actually not human. They are aliens from a wrinkle in the spaced-out time continuum or whatever. The rest of us lung-breathers, who have sex the normal way, like to take it easy.

My proposal for the two-hour work week is a thoughtfully considered, Earth-friendly, fiscally responsible alternative to this diabolical extraterrestrial attempt to work us into genetic oblivion. If this continues much longer, we'll become like them, and then where will that leave us? Just another race of pasty-faced army ants who have test-tube sex every other year.

Not a very, um, exciting prospect, is it?

I have enlisted the support of my scientific colleague, Felicia T. Weedledee (no relation), esteemed environmentalist and Nubile Prize Winner, whose award-winning essay, "Carbonaceous Conundrums in a Post-Industrial Society", is the backbone of my four-year plan to wrestle the workweek away from those vile vermin from Venus or wherever the hell they're from and return it to the American Worker, the human variety, that appreciates a cold beer and a couch when he sees one . . . anywhere, anytime. And maybe a football game or perhaps a roller-derby match.

I sum up the logic of my platform thusly: What is the carbon footprint of one dollar? If you consider (as I have) the energy necessarily consumed by the average worker in order to do the work to earn that dollar, as well as the energy required to earn the money to pay the average worker that dollar, in a mathematical equation far too complex to set forth here, I can prove that for every dollar earned ten pounds of carbon are released into the atmosphere. In other words, the annual earnings of a Wal-Mart store clerk (regardless of whether you can find them) represent the carbon-equivalent of a burning rain forest the size of Indiana. Staggering to contemplate, isn't it?

This cannot be allowed to continue. My proposed appointee for U. S. Attorney General will provide the legal basis for the government to implement, under threat of water-boarding, my "Save the World - Take a Nap" program, which will reverse this horrible path to calamity and extra-terrestrial domination by carbon-dioxide breathing monsters from another dimension.

Thank you for your time and your vote. Coming to a ballot box near you.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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