Tea Hee Haw Sing Along (VVV)

A companion sing along and hootenanny for “Tea Hee Haw”.

A 'Vice Versa Verses’ parody to be sung to the tune of “The Ballad of Jed Clampett” (written by Paul Henning) AKA the theme song from “The Beverly Hillbillies”.

"HILLBILLY HIGH TEA"
Come and join a party Jed-Dubya once led,
A simpleton pappy had silver spoon fed,
Shootin’ for some way to ease his aimless mood,
While steepin’ in the ground rich Texas tea brewed.

Oil that is. Black gold. Texas tea party.

Well, JethRush’s arm rasslin’ made Jed a billionaire,
And Drysdale said “time to party in our lair”,
Said “the Oval Office is the place you oughtta be”
So they packed up the truck and moved to Wash D.C.

N.O. that is. Beauty queens. FOX knows news.

Well scrap all yer plans, let the grassroots march begin
Do the hokey pokey with yer pickets and Palin,
Moby gets a handshake from the folks who come to tea,
And serves a heapin’ helpin’ of more fear and panicky.

O.K. that is. Bottomless pit. Come stub yer toes on the 'turf.

Y’all come back for tea now, ya hear?

To derive the greatest possible enjoyment from this theme song, first read our ‘Dream Sequence’ May 20, 2010 posting “Tee Hee Haw”.

Tea Hee Haw (DS)

We had a dream……and in that dream we found ourselves standing in the middle of a vast Texas wasteland next to a large cluster of sagebrush that was still dripping from the recent rain storm. The cracked earth that had previously lined the nearby creek bed was now engorged as the rain waters rushed by in a hurry to fill the scrubby pond down yonder.

That was where we first saw Jed-Dubya hunkered down with his locked and loaded rifle, fully poised to pick off the croaking frogs just as fast as they could leap out of the flooding pond.

It looked as if Jed-Dubya’s short attention span was about to accidentally be the making of him, for our dream then showed him getting easily distracted by an unidentified shiny object across the pond, and his first reaction, of course, was to shoot at it. He missed, but hit pay dirt for up from the ground came a bubbling crude. Oil, that is. Black gold. Time to throw a Texas Tea Party.

With the help of one Mr. Drysdale of the Red Shield Bank, Jed-Dubya eventually got around to selling his new oil field to the president of the OK Oil Company, Mr. Dick. Mr. Dick had always considered himself to be the biggest fish in a little pond, and rarely failed to stand a bit taller when afforded the opportunity to introduce himself to big clients with his favorite nickname ‘Moby’.

Dubya naturally saw no need to jump into the middle of the funding fetch with Moby Dick when all the price beatin’ could be left in the robust hands of his nephew JethRush. Heck, before Jed could whittle a whale out of a piece of driftwood, JethRush had strong-armed a deal that saw Moby Dick’s right forearm smacked down on the table backward after JethRush had arm rassled it flat like a carnie at the county fair. This is what the kinfolks call “doin’ business on a handshake”.

During the weeks that passed between shootin' and sellin', Dubya’s velvety oil spewed from the earth unchecked, and the waters of that scrubby pond turned black and toxic with crude oil. Any frog that had been lucky enough to survive Jed’s shooting party was now thickly coated in heavy crude and washed up along the shoreline never to hop again.

Now Jed’s ole Granny Armstrong was a rootin’ tootin’ Texan to the core, and she’d taken an unusual liking to OK Oil’s Moby Dick. Granny Armstrong offered Mr. Dick a rare invitation to do some big game huntin’ on the ranch before it was all packed up. Good thing Granny was an M.D. too cuz it sure came in handy when Moby Dick unwittingly took a pot shot at the Texas law man who’d only joined the hunt to flush out Jed's baby girl and the county’s hottest looker, Elly May Palin, from behind the bushes where she was busy winkin' at all them critters running for their lives.

As soon as Jed-Dubya had securely deposited his copious bounty in the Red Shield Bank, it was time to load up the truck and move to Washington D.C. Thanks once more to the tacit manipulation of Mr. Drysdale, Jed-Dubya was able to buy up the biggest White House that Pennsylvania Avenue had to offer. When the seller couldn’t afford to pay its underwater mortgage to China, let alone the back taxes, it was without a doubt the best deal the new century had to offer.

Dubya was thrilled. He had the whittling porch of his dreams. But poor Granny Armstrong. She just wasn’t sure what to do about that huge steeple facing the long cement pond that was taking up too much space on her green grassroots backyard so richly enhanced with astroturf.

As far as Moby Dick was concerned, JethRush had found his calling. Whenever Mr. Dick would throw one of those regular White House Tea Parties he was wont to have for our friendly neighborhood OPEC drillers, the party would invariably conclude in the parlor with a little JethRush price fixin' ‘handshake’. And every once in a while, M. D. would even secretly arrange for JethRush to do some pharma-rassling with his good buddies over at the OxyContin dispensary, just because he could. No pain, no gain.

JethRush’s kissin’ cuzin, Elly May, had her own common sense solution for growing Pa’s oil empire, and family values would firmly govern her grand plan which was steamrolling forward nicely under the rally cry, “Drill, baby, drill!”. Elly May couldn’t wait to grab her Uzi and jump on board the Exxon Valdez for a tanker cruise along the pipeline to Alaska. What she didn’t expect to see on the expedition were all of those trees. A tree’s a tree. How many more do you need to look at? Oh - oh - oh!! Maybe the family should think about expanding into the lumber business. **wink*~*wink** 

And then we woke up and realized that even when the body appears to be running around without a head, it always seems to get where it’s headed. We can only wonder now where the Tea Party is headed next.

Y'all come back for tea now, ya hear?

Yabba, dabba, D.C. Take your shoes off and let the dirt gather under your toenails in our Stone Age ‘Dream Sequence’ November 14, 2008 posting “Washingstone B.C.”

MOMs The Word

"To the world you might be one person,

but to one person you might be the world."

- Anonymous

Happy Mother's Day!

“Mother’s Day Flower”. Original oil on canvas (5” x 7”). Beautifully presented in a gold-washed frame with a finished dimension of 10” x 12”. © Copyright by Artist, KA Collins. To purchase this exquisite original work of art, contact KA directly ("Author Links").

Who's your mama? Celebrate, then invest in your favorite nurturer with our ‘In The Rear View Mirror’ May 4, 2009 posting “New Century Nurturing”.

Trolling For Transparency

We’re not sure what’s worse – having to learn about something we never thought we needed to know, or coming to grips with the verifiable truth that our private pursuits are being systematically archived for future use against us.

As corporate America continues to tighten its chokehold on the nation’s workforce by installing a battalion of Trolls on every Bridge (see definition), we’re getting a crash course in what publicists have known all along; namely, managing our public image is a full time job.

In the rear view mirror we saw a time, not very long ago, when an impressive resume’, written referral letters and a great personal interview would reward those in search of suitable employment with a hired position commensurate with education and experience. The times, however, are clearly a’changin’, because what we see now are invasive corporate Trolls making damaging judgment calls based solely upon an applicant’s on-line social life … and oftentimes without even confirming that the screened profile under review actually belongs to the applicant, and not to some random unknown who just happens to have a similar name.

While contemporary society works hard to exonerate its dark side by pretending the shadow doesn’t exist, corporate America is busy working in the shadows trying to sustain a hypocritical double standard of 'full transparency'. This shady approach has not only created a unilateral opportunity for the corporations making all of the rules to micro-manage every worker’s life under the pretense of smart business, it has also given its Trolls the power to kick off of the bridge any poor wretch who has the misfortune of being virtually connected to the wrong “friend”.

Now that we know that we need good credit in order to get the very job that we need to get the good credit, and that we’ll be indiscriminately judged guilty by association for connections with the wrong “friends” (as may be arbitrarily determined by any Troll working the Bridge), we now know that it’s time we take charge of our virtual, and very public, persona.

Well, “WhoIs” may claim to provide an identity for everyone, but the new beta “WhoIsMiniMe” has set its user-friendly platform up to provide the perfect virtual image for everyone.

“WhoIsMiniMe” heralds itself to be the foolproof virtual PR platform from which to launch your own personal publicity campaign. "WhoIsMiniMe" allows its users to seamlessly manage and manipulate their alter egos from one simple phone app. False first impressions are effortlessly minimized with the one-dimensional perfect career avatar called the “Soigne’ Self”. The “Soigne’ Self” never sees its shadow (and it never lets anyone else see it either) because all users are directed to deposit their secret, private selves into the avatar aptly called the “Shadow Self”. And ne’er the two shall meet within the matrix.

Frankly, there appears to be no difference between the strategic actions of a private individual who elects to transfer any detractive character traits off of the public records and onto a self-created “Shadow Self”; and the actions of a Lehman Brothers who premeditatively transfers all of its risky assets off the public books and onto the records of its shady alter ego, Hudson Castle.

Word on the street is that necessity is the mother of invention, and it certainly looks as if the survival of personal privacy in today’s voyeuristic climate has necessitated a creative approach to playing the corporate game. So will your virtual, “Soigne’ Self”, be playing the game to win?

Put your best face forward, twice, in our ‘In The Rear View Mirror’ February 24, 2010 posting "Seeing Double”.

Joe McPain, TROLL

Pomp and Promises

The end of the school year is fast approaching. With this ending comes the beginning of an off-campus chapter in the lives of thousands of university students who have completed their core curriculums, and are now ready to enter the realm of the educated professional with freshly printed diplomas and loads of academic debt clamoring for repayment.

By the time their alma mater marching bands get around to stepping up the “Pomp and Circumstance” rehearsal schedules, most of the eligible graduates will have already been fitted for cap and gown, and be intently focused on the hunt for post-graduation employment in a paid position that even remotely corresponds with their chosen fields of study.

For the graduating majority who were assured that a college education would be an investment in their future fulfillment, and well worth the expense and resultant debt load, the job pickins are slim.

A sign-of-the-times reality check can be readily found with any routine sweep of the circulated job postings on the more ‘reputable’ employer job boards over the last several years. Naturally many large employers listing positions to be filled have unabashedly demonstrated their intentions of turning today’s economic lemons into profitable lemonade through unpaid internships. The approach is avariciously rationalized when one considers the trade off – educated slave labor in exchange for dangled promises of a long term position that eventually pays, maybe.

As the nation’s unemployment rate continues to realistically hover in the double-digits and still neglect to reflect the real time stats of the severely under-employed, we can’t help but wonder what our lettered citizens are expected to do with their education and expensive training…especially now that the Census Bureau has all of the doctorate-to-door census taking temps it can handle.

When it came time for us to be counted, it came with a hard knock at the door, followed by a hard look in the rear view mirror that put us back on the revolutionary road of the 1960’s where we could compare the indelible skid mark the 60’s social revolution left on society with the financial revolution that is currently underway.

The 1960’s unquestionably saw a collective insurgency that ultimately dismantled the traditional and established social structures which were perceived to be oppressive and limiting. To conform to the expectations set forth by the ‘establishment’ was to have individuality suppressed by those standards, and personal freedoms unacceptably confined. For many the answer was to simply drop out…drop out of college, drop out of society, fall off the grid.

Today’s financial revolution, however, seems to be rooted in financial oppression and the subjugation that comes with financial slavery. If society as a whole can no longer be effectively manipulated to submit and conform through fear of communal ostracism, then apparently it can be shackled and whipped into submission through heavy debt. Yet instead of dropping out, the revolutionaries of today truly want to contribute to our GDP, and have literally bought into the belief that higher education is their way to a secure future.

Consequently, too many have now been left burdened with unmanageable debt and no job to show for it.

The United States of America has certainly not been immune to the shackles of heavy national debt either; nevertheless its corporate children appear to have openly abandoned the needs of their Motherland while hiding behind the veil of ‘free market capitalism’, now that they’ve been bailed out of course.

Once again the discord between corporate America and her U.S. Mother is being publicly waged at the expense of the people. While corporate America loudly whines on about how it just can’t seem to find qualified domestic workers in order to justify its outsourcing cheap labor from abroad, Mother America takes her corporate children to task with accusations of unpaid intern abuses under the guise of federal labor law violations. In the end, all accounting points to payroll tax dollars – corporate America doesn’t want the payables, and America's Treasury wants the receivables.

All speculation now goes to how the newly-educated, over-educated, unemployed and under-employed will find new income opportunities during the transition.

Clearly not motivated enough to create quality domestic jobs at this point in the revolution, corporate America continues to blatantly exploit the fresh ideas and innovative concepts of the vulnerable without paying for any of it. It reminds us of an old saying, “Why should they buy the cow when they can get the milk for free?"

Debt is sinking the U.S. America and the bulk of her passengers are going down with the ship - the safety nets are gone, even the lifeboats have gaping holes. Get a view from the porthole in our ‘In The Rear View Mirror’ March 31, 2009 posting "The American Myth”.

POTUS, Inc.

We weren’t really sure if the Moon was in the seventh house, or if Jupiter was aligned with Mars when the Sun transitioned into Aquarius in January, but what we do know is that a new age began with surprisingly little fanfare and very few outcries from an indignant American public.

Perhaps that’s because there was little the people could do about the decision made behind those closed Supreme Court doors where our nine Justices sequestered themselves away from prying eyes and inquiring human minds. The four judicial voices of dissent who did speak out with some sort of conscience were simply not enough, for ultimately the majority overruled. And the highest court in the land has spoken, with no room for debate.

This unappealable overruling has, for all intents and purposes, removed the constitutional distinction that once separated the human being (previously considered the citizenry and heartbeat of America) from the inorganic corporate entity.

Of course, our Chief Justice was quick to smooth it all over with First Amendment and freedom of speech references by way of attempt to defend the court’s prejudiced activism in deciding to decide on something it wasn’t necessarily even asked to decide on.

Jubilance justifiably overflows for every large corporation of American birth that strategically envisions this landmark ruling to be their special interest way of leveling the playing field, and it isn’t hard to guess whose playing field will be leveled.

So now that the days of hiding behind the corporate veil are over, the big guns can openly come out of the closet with their stockpiles while mobilizing a coordinated invasion of the 2012 presidential elections … and just in time for the Mayan calendar to end. Frankly, we were rendered speechless when we began to envision the impending 2012 electoral process, and just how the American road to rulership might be navigated and capitalized.

We have every reason to believe that the campaign trail will begin predictably with the usual mannerisms: a welcoming gesture of open arms extending toward empty, upturned palms looking to be filled. Few will be shocked when the Party of No begins to briskly change its song to “Yes!Yes!Yes!” with the fevered pitch that only unfettered corporate financing can inspire. The GOP won’t be singing alone, however, for in this joint fund-raising venture, true bipartisanship will prevail like never before.

As the clock starts to wind down on whatever remains of Mother Maverick’s 15 minutes, the GOP will bloat with confidence as it swiftly moves to back a new heavyweight candidate guaranteed to sweep every primary, win the election by a landslide, and then move the Oval Office to the winner’s corporate headquarters in Arkansas.

Decades of successful corporate branding has already placed the familiar name of our next president, “Wally Mart, Inc.” firmly upon the lips of the American population. And Wally Mart, Inc. will deeply touch the hearts of America even further with its sentimental, oldie but goodie campaign slogan: “Uncle Sam Wants You!”

Since Wally Mart, Inc. currently has long standing co-dependent economic arrangements with China, it will logically super-size its campaign platform with class-defining promises of privatizing profits so its corporate comrades can grow richer, and socializing risk so all of the financial burdens can be carried on the hard working backs of the American people. This agenda will not only clear the way to economize by centralizing distribution, it'll create thousands of low paying American jobs, and the masses will be kept so busy producing cheap goods and knock offs that they won’t have time to think about anything other than survival.

Easily locating Wally Mart, Inc.’s corporate charter from 1962 will not only substantiate its American birth, but prove beyond question that the corporation exceeds the Constitutional 35-year age minimum. In the rear view mirror we can see the country being seduced by convincing election commercials romanticizing Wally Mart, Inc.’s humble mid-western beginnings while selling kitsch back in the 1950’s.

As the first corporation to be elected President of the United States (POTUS), Wally Mart, Inc. proudly displays its “Inc.” designation as if it were a PhD. Upon inauguration, Wally Mart, Inc. will undoubtedly take suffragistic steps to grant all corporations the right to vote, whilst proceeding to fill every seat in the House and Senate with corporate America, thereby cutting out the middle man.

It appears the scales of American justice have been unequivocally tipped in favor of the supreme corporation with deep pockets. What's next? Robots take over the world?

Start your own corporation with a marriage license. Say “I do” with our ‘Vice Versa Verses’ December 8, 2009 posting "Wedded Biz”.

Seeing Green

Wishing you a rainbow

For sunlight after showers—

Miles and miles of Irish smiles

For golden happy hours—

Shamrocks at your doorway

For luck and laughter too,

And a host of friends that never ends

Each day your whole life through!

“Ring of Kerry”. Original oil (5” x 5”).

© Copyright by Artist, KA Collins. To purchase this 'mini', simply visit the artist’s Etsy studio at: http://www.etsy.com/shop/KAStudio. ("Author Links") 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. See for yourself in our ‘In The Rear View Mirror’ December 31, 2009 posting "Avastic New Year".

Greed Takes A Holiday (DS)

We had a dream……and in that dream we saw Greed standing alone in front of the panoramic window of his imperial penthouse suite perched near the top of The Palm Hotel-Atlantis in Dubai. He gazed out at the glistening Persian Gulf with disconsolation, and tried to shake off the gnawing irritation he felt at the fact that the only palm frond island he could see from his luxurious living room was the Palm Jumeirah.

As Greed stood there, fully saturated in his entitlements, he firmly believed with good reason that only one of anything would simply never be enough. His insatiable heart demanded that he have it all.

And Wall Street was a man after his own heart. Wall Street knew that one of the fastest ways to win the heart of Greed was to bundle up a few derivatives in a red bow, and have them laid on his pillow every evening when his king-sized bed was turned down by the personal maid who never forgot to put that quintessential chocolate crème de menthe on top.

Wall Street owed Greed in a big way for several very banner years, and Wall Street didn’t disappoint when it heartily comped Greed’s recent holiday junket which included an epicurean Celebrity cruise from his doorstep in Dubai to the Cayman Islands for a little tax free R & R.

Our dream followed Greed to the marina where he boarded a cruise ship that looked to be worthy of him, for it was the biggest and best on the Gulf. Few ships sailing the high seas were elite enough to fly the badge of the Red Shield from its flagpole, and the “Black Pearl” was a flagship indeed.

Every level on the ship prominently housed no less than four ATM cash machines, each boldly sponsored by the Big Four banking buddies whose direct lines were stored on Greed’s cell phone speed-dial. He was heartened to see the ATMs on board ship for little could boost the bankers’ bottom line faster than weeks of hefty international cash advance fees assessed upon a full boat of high end cruisers. No doubt a Big Four bank-sponsored Greed-junket was long overdue.

As in life, so in love…..er, lust..... and never to settle for just one of anything, his evenings were filled with gluttonous options; and since Greed was on holiday, he let his southern head do some of the heavy thinking after sundown. At least until the warm currents of the Indian Ocean carried the ship around the Horn of Africa and into the greedy clutches of the Somalian pirates.

Well, that Red Shield luxury liner may’ve been too rich for the pirates to pass up, but by the time Greed finished dissecting their bottom line calculations and made it known that his cut wasn’t big enough, the pirates couldn’t release his ship fast enough. It seems the only real difference that exists between Greed and the Somali pirates is that Greed doesn’t bother to take hostages. Yet his tentacles are far reaching and equal opportunity abounds.

And then we woke up and wondered if Bernie (see definition below) ever dreamed about outliving his wife Ruth and making Greed the sole beneficiary in his will.

So when Greed comes knocking on your door looking for more, will he be turned away in earnest or will he receive the red carpet treatment he expects?

As the masses move to survive, the Greedy secretly move their assets. Follow the money in our ‘In The Rear View Mirror’ April 13, 2009 posting "Greed Goes Underground”.