Right Angle: Backstage (11-16-2021)

Ah, quibbling a quibble. I like it.

(Follows a nonsensical quibble of a quibbling quibble while channeling the ghost of Lewis Carrol.)

But can they 3D print a rocket body with the nozzle in the right place using only one hand while standing on their heads during a blue moon when snow is falling up and the spirits are afoot? I think not.

Because the Democrats ate the unicorn necessary to such a delicate operation. They claimed it wasn’t rainbowing its “fair share” and they were experiencing a supply chain shortage of pretty colors to put on their Not American flags. You’re either advancing the agenda or feeding it. With those guys you’re either cheering or you’re chow.

As everyone knows, the only way to get snow to fall up when the spirits are abroad is via the buoyancy of carefully filtered unicorn rainbow farts using only the blue and yellow colors from the exhaust of the rare Blue Unicorn.

Even then, while any of the blue colors will do — With the firm exception of Navy or Air Force Blue, because they hate those darn military baby killers, or baby blue, an inappropriate reminder that they already aborted all the babies — The yellow must be the precise, exact shade of the stripe down a Democrat snowflake’s back.

In a real pinch if the unicorn rainbow fart filters aren’t tediously calibrated you might end up with buttercup yellow instead. That will do, but only if Democrats control the White House and Congress so they can change the rules and hide the new parameter in a load of pork when no one is looking.

This,a pinch of delusional thinking and the eye of Newt Gingrich, plus just a drop of hallucinogenic psychotropic bootleg pharmaceuticals, is what provides the lift for snowflakes to fall upwards. The most critical components for the spell are only obtainable from a blue unicorn found only during a blue moon and it is always in the company of a proper Red Komrade Feminist Virgin.

Ol’ Red provides the slogans needed for the incantations.

Good luck finding her, too. Komrade Virgins are even rarer than blue unicorns. Komrade Feminists are common as dirt and resemble it a lot too. So don’t get the two mixed up.

If you do manage to find one, wear gloves. Thick gloves. Really, really thick gloves. Seriously. They bite. Hard. On anything hard. Like the bones in your hand. Get your mind out of the gutter, how are you going to wear a glove down there?. Biting hard on hard things is how they stayed virgins.

You’ve been warned.

There’s only one way to find this elusive, rare, repugnant creature. Sneak into a Joe Biden rally with a bar of soap tightly wrapped in plastic in your pocket and wearing a Kamala Harris mask. The lightweight fluffy liberals will move aside, prostrate themselves in adoration and allow you in while the heavyweight hard core Leftists eye you suspiciously.

Be careful with this next part. It’s dangerous.

Hold up the bar of soap. Quietly, don’t say anything. The aroma of the soap needs to waft gently across the crowd. As they realize what is happening they will start to panic and run away. The fresh, clean smell of soap is like garlic to a vampire for them. Don’t get trampled, it will be like a herd of panicked cats fleeing a flea bath.

Do not come between a Jiggly-Puff and the exit, that can be fatal. If you don’t know what a Jiggly-Puff is, don’t worry about it. It will be obvious when you see one.

When they run away what’s left will be the truly dangerous part. While everyone else was running away, Komrade Virgin has begun to stalk you. She’s the one in sickly green miasma and hallucinogenic aura on the back of a blue unicorn. She or the unicorn will try to bite the soap and take your hand off. Doesn’t matter which one does that but it will usually be the unicorn. Because soap bubble rainbow unicorn farts are something it thinks is very entertaining. Unicorns have a weird sense of humor.

That is your quarry. How you proceed from there is up to you and good luck.

What, you might ask, do the spirits have to do with all of this? See Ron SAE for a recommendation in that department. Where spirits are involved anything can happen. It’s necessary to create a state of “anything can happen” or else this sort of project won’t work. Strong spirits definitely have to be involved.

If you’re lucky you’ll wake up safe and sound the next morning with a minor memory gap and no sudden urge to chew your arm off. Those sorts of arm urges manifest with urgency, to escape whatever you brought home and is now laying on said arm. No urge, no problem.

Do not under any circumstances allow Komrade Virgin anywhere near your arm. She’ll chew it off for you, whether you want to escape or not. Think along the lines of “Gigantic Gila Monster with matted hair, flaccid figure, open sores, an unceasing menstruation period, terrible breath and hemorrhoid induced bad attitude”. (More reasons why she’s still a virgin.)

Just keep her in her cage and feed her anything convenient. She’s used to pretty much anything she can swallow. Small shrubs, any sort of recyclable … Even road kill works just fine. So leave her there and don’t mess with her. You only need her for the slogan incantations and she can do that just fine from her cage with a mouthful of road kill. She comes with the unicorn and you need the unicorn aromatic byproducts. She’s also there to keep the unicorn from running you through with that wicked looking spike on its forehead. Blue unicorns go berserk without a Komrade Virgin close by.

You have been warned. Again.

The really good news is that when you get all of this just right, squint very hard, bang the heels of your Chinese Nikes together enthusiastically chanting “There’s no place for Trump” and hold your mouth in just the exact required smarmy sneer … Abra Kadabra and BANG! You have achieved Socialist Utopia! Hooray for the Polychromatic Hydrophobic Unicorn Brigade, heroes of the revolting revolution and saviors of mankind!

That is … Until you run out of money and the guys below you drag you to a nice, tall lamp post in the street. Someone has to be a scapegoat and you’re up there on a pinnacle making an easy target. So enjoy it while it lasts. Which won’t be long.

Because there’s some other guys, rough looking characters, coming up the street with rifles and tanks and that kind of stuff. Grumbling something that sounds alarmingly like “Drain that damned swamp for good this time …”

I have the sneaking suspicion they may be hunting unicorns.

😉