IT'S AFTER 8:30 on Thursday March 29th so Rebel Girl knows now that she lost the contest to predict just when Attorney General Alberto Gonzales would resign. She's been bragging for days that the confluence of her 46th birthday and his scandal would create the ideal circumstances and thus her victory -- so she predicted that Gonzales would either tender his resignation or be fired this morning.
The prize was a year of ice cream (Ben and Jerry's, natch) and Reb has spent what little spare time she has had musing whether or not the amount of ice cream is determined by the winner's own ability to consume or some standard formula, no doubt resulting in less ice cream consumption. She speculated on storage problems and choice dilemmas (Peanut Butter Cup? Chunky Monkey? Karamel Sutra? Dublin Mudslide?) Also: would she be restricted to a certain number of flavors?
Alas.
Alberto remains and Rebel Girl can buy her own birthday ice cream today.
His reluctance to resign does gives Rebel Girl time to develop her own line of Alberto Gonzales products – more on those later but suffice to say one item is the car odorizer that can hang jauntily from a rear view mirror, looking at a distance like the Virgin of Guadalupe. A close inspection reveals it is Alberto with George W. cast as that little angel propping him up.
In honor of the ice cream and emperors, the irresistible Wallace Stevens who I often read but decline to teach:
The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,~~~~~~~~~~
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Indeed!
5 comments:
Where was it one first heard of the truth? The the.
Great poem--I believe it's about a prostitute's funeral. Am I correct?
Oh, but don't forget B&J's Apple Pie flavor, which, vegan or not, I had to taste (happiness in this case was in a single spoonful) and wasn't sorry I did.
To me, what's more disturbing, politically speaking, than the mess AG is in right now, is the opposition to the effort to bring back the constitutional amendment for equal rights for women. This opposition scares me more than the lies of the attorney general.
I'm sorry, Rebel Girl, that AG did not come through for you and for the rest of us. But I do believe it's in the mail. Perhaps the best course is to extend your birthday celebration to the point when AG leaves--that'd be my policy!
Snore!
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