The Scraper Scraped

¿Why is this baloney here? (( fold here )) (( ¿¡Kikunomics?! [0] )) Seventeen hours of stubborn silence is enough, I think, to establish that mainstream Blue Class Groupies do not propose even to nibble at it, and neither does Paddy McTammany, actually, who stand poised a couple of paragraphettes back from the brink of a metadiscourse. First, though, comes the WHY question simpliciter: what can goodvolks like Freedame Seascraper be thinkin’ ’bout when they ‘borrow’ three hundred and fourteen (314) pearly words -- "1,610 (non-space) characters" -- from a great sage [1] of America’s Otherparty an’ toss ’em out in front of swine an’ donkeys with no explanation. ¿Without so much as a WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! PIG! SOOIE! It is not as if there were some obvious public occasion, say news that Geithner von Hindenburg and Bernanke von Ludendorff are thinking of advising the All Highest to make jello, or possibly slinkies, legal tender in the Heimatland G*ttes. Mittius Coriolanus Pompo, Demander of Apologies, Master of Seamus, Stepmaster to Rafalca, Baincapper Extraordinaire, Possessor of the Golden Birth Certificate, ... ¿perhaps in this context one may reverently add "Vanquisher of Land-Based Auditors" to His Excellency’s received style? ... &c. &c. dreams of a steady-state--nay, ¿why not a deflationary?--Universe at least three times every night, but the great thing is, Coriolanus Pompo keeps his avarice’s dreams strictly to himself. (Well, pretty strictly. One certainly have to admit that H. E. is tryin’ not to disclose.) Despite the dread-inspiring M.B.A. from the H*rv*rd Victory School, Coriolanus Pompo is probably not in fact scheming to be the New McKinley or the Mark II Hanna. Like another distinuished H*rv*rd-Y*rd Republicanine from not too long ago, the Herr Prof. Dok. Heinrich von Kissinger, Coriolanus Pompo firmly believes that what Amerika needs is not so much this policy or that as that policy-makin’ be placed in the whight hands, in the hands of One Who will work whighteousness. It is not hard in either case to guess what that would comes to if crudely spelled out. Still, ‘Hank’ an’ ‘Mittens’ are not interchangable volks. The good Doktor , after all, notoriously failed to possess a Certificate of Golden Birth, bein’ stuck, ¡Life is unfair!, with more like a bronze. To express the same thing another way, Coriolanus Pompo does not simply want policy-makin’ concentrated in his own personal paws. That arrangement will have to do temporarily for a start, no doubt, but for the long haul what Amerika needs is to be ruled by a whole Class that is whighteous collectively. Like ‘we’ used to be back in Ye Goode Olde Dayes. Bein’ a foreigner, naturally Dr. Kissinger knew little und cared less about our sort of YGOD. His own version of the product prominently featured a certain (( Klemens Wenzel Lothar Fürst von Metternich-Winneburg zu Beilstein )) In the absence of any idol or icon, I suspect your moderately gifted guesser could guess correctly from that john-hancock that H. E. would prove to not look a great deal more like Amerika than Baràk Husâyn O’Báma, to pick an exotic specimen at random, looks like Amerika. (( Leucodermatitis is a necessary, but far from a sufficient, indicator for LLA Syndrome. )) Mme. la baronne de Seascraper could plausibly maintain that I have inadvertently been bolstering the freeladytlike goldbuggery, as follows: assuming (as Paddy and Eye do assume), that Coriolanus Pompo looks forwards to establishin’, not just himself an’ Seamus an’ Rafalca an’ the rest of the Serene House of Romney, in seats of power, but rather at a TopPercenter Ascendancy that shall endure, would not a national currency strictly linked to the Avogadro number (or possibly to the Planck constant) be just the thing? If The ©lassmates could be perfectly sure that there portfolioes will be worth as much, or maybe just a tad more, three hundred years from now as they were at NYSE closing time last Friday, ¿Would not The ©lassmates be in a position to spend far more time worryin’ about the whighteousness of the Yank Republic? Whatever the secret-sector consequences in particular cases, all the time that goodvolks like M. Coriolanus Pompo spend conferrin’ with their brokers, an’ their C.P.A.’s, an’ their blind (or sighted) trustees, &c. &c. are can scarcely be said to create any public happiness worthy of note. The obvious objection is that most ©lassmates would probably just seize the opportunity to mess about more in boats, plus get in some extra golf an’ poloe an’ maybe even AstroTurf™baggin’. Of which the obvious response ("Hey, ¿it’s a free country, innit?") sufficiently disposes. Those who agitprop for America’s Otherparty have lately taken to rehearsin’ completely ridiculous ideas of the Psocialism advocated by us jennies and jackasses: as if we propose to lock M. Coriolanus Pompo, and Messrs. les Frères Koch, and Freelord Trump of Jersey Shiore, and Tio Ruperto (when his firstlordship is in the country), and lesser ©lassmates in a pen and threaten to cut off their supply of pre-owned carrots and turnips if their freelordships do not keep their noses to the jobcreationist grindstone absolutely without a break. Plain plebes and proles don’t mind if Ebb Scrooge an’ Ollie Warbucks takes the occasional day off from scroogin’ an’ warbuckin’. If they did object, ’twould be like Reynard reprimanding the huntin’ and shootin’ people on Airstrip One for honouring Boxing Day by staying home inside their stately houses. Proles and plebes don’t much mind not being hunted. "The Middle Class" Paddy and Eye are not so sure about, but then we admittedly have no idea what, if anybody, The Middle Class™ may be, exactly. (( ¡Golly! ¿Do you suppose TMC™ might be Freedame Seascraper an’ her mates, if there be any mates, an’ her ideobuddies? )) ___ [0] The wingnut quotee appears to have reversed the two syllables of "kooky" an’ then neospelled a little, presumably so as to assure everybooby that his stuff is sterlin’ indeed. His freelordship’s wingnutette quoter may not be quite so sure: Mme. la baronne omitted to supply the link, which suggests to the low minds of Paddy and Eye that the bits not swiped may contain some really delightful goofiness. [1] Conceivably her freeladyship is attemptin’ to win more recognition for the Great Sage. One fears "Nathan Lewis of New World Economics" is not a name many sorcerers conjure with on a regular basis.