Dear Comrades,

I confiscated the following little story that was written by a little New York City cucaracha name Archie. You'll have to forgive little Archie. He is unable to type out capital letters or punctuation marks. Nevertheless, under the pseudonym, "Don Marquis," (as bourgeoisie a name as there ever was), in a book entitled [highlight=#ffffff]"Archie and Mehitabel,"[/highlight] Archie has written a masterpiece about a glorious little Bolshevik flea.

And, one day, when the Glorious Progressive World of Next Tuesday ™ arrives, we will all be much like the merry little flea, because no matter where we lunch, it will be a free lunch.

the merry flea

the high cost of
living isn t so bad if you
don t have to pay for it i met
a flea the other day who
was grinning all over
himself why so merry why so
merry little bolshevik i asked him

i have just come from a swell
dog show he said i have
been lunching off a dog that was
worth at least one hundred
dollars a pound you should be
ashamed to brag about it i said with so
many insects and humans on
short rations in the world today the
public be damned he said i
take my own where i find it those are
bold words i told him i am a bold
person he said and bold words are
fitting for me it was
only last thursday that i marched
bravely into the zoo
and bit a lion what did he do i asked
he lay there and took it said
the flea what else could he do he knew i
had his number and it was
little use to struggle some day i said
even you will be conquered terrible as
you are who will do it he
said the mastodons are all dead and i
am not afraid of any mere
elephant i asked him how about a microbe and
he turned pale as he thought it
over there is always some
little thing that is too
big for us every
goliath has his david and so on ad finitum
but what said the flea is the
terror of the smallest microbe of all
he i said is afraid of a vacuum what is
there in a vacuum to make one afraid
said the flea there is nothing in it
i said and that is what makes one
afraid to contemplate it a person
can t think of a place with nothing at
all in it without going nutty and if he
tries to think that nothing is
something after all he gets nuttier you are
too subtle for me said the
flea i never took much stock in being
scared of hypodermic propositions or
hypothetical injections i am
going to have dinner off a
man eating tiger if a vacuum gets
me i will try and send you word
before the worst comes to
the worst some people i told him inhabit
a vacuum all their lives and
never know it then he said it don t
hurt them any no i said it don t but it
hurts people who have to associate
with them and with these words
we parted each feeling
superior to the other and is not that
feeling after all one of the great
desiderata of social intercourse

archy

(Don Marquis)

Pure poetry, Komrade, pure poetry.

Now, what did it all mean ???

Fellow Comrade Proletariat Flea Jibaro. Whether you are a fellow traveler, or a full blown Bolshevik flea, as long as there are hosts, there will always be free lunches.

Somebody's on somethin' !
Holy crap ......

Just think, Comrade Krasnodar, no more staying in flea bag hotels, not with Dear Leader standing between the Advantage Flea Control treatment and us.

I must say, I'm filled with disappointment. When I viewed the previously unviewed, I was sure this was the story of dear Leader.


Oh wait. . . . yes, maybe I was not mistaken after the all!?

Judge Frauline,

The last time you made a mistake was when you thought you were wrong!

The Major agrees.

Leninka, if you're going to bring that mutt in here, you'll have to clean up after it. Look what I just stepped in!

A filthy thought from the brain in a jug...

Leninka, while talking about the very estimable Archie, let us never forget Mehitabel, the randy pussy cat. Remember that she was to be had by every Tom, Tom, and er Tom, who came along.

This is a promiscuity to be envied. Just think of the times that Harry Reid and Nanski have lain on their backs, soles to the air, saying they're taking one for the team, realizing that this rapine by unions and layabouts would be richly rewarded by being given power which would absolve them of any ethical decisions.

And it is taking one for the team. We are all team players but not a single one of us would reject that dacha in the hills west of Moscow. Since we know that wealth is stolen, and not created (I have a very nice cave, do you? Obviously since one cannot make wealth all we can have to live in is caves) it means that it matters not a bit what we do, because we are all guilty and so we just see what we can get.

I love being a prog. I love Archie and Mehitibel.

If there is a moral to this story, it is that we ought to do anything that we can to get the power, and then do whatever is needed (TransSiberian Railroad anyone?) to make sure we hold onto it. Because power is infinitely more important than self-respect.

No doubt about it, The State has provided a most-equal cave for Father Theo.

Comrades,

I've just arrived back to the gulag, after providing maid and cleaning services to Comrade Red Square and his entourage on their trip to see about nationalizing the brackish Texas Gulf Coast shrimp and oyster population. In fact, he treated me like a puppet on a string, and ordered me to put up the story of the Bolshevik flea for you. And we are all supposed to be thankful that he threw us all a bone, I guess.

Comrade Father Prog Theocritus,

I am not a bit surprised that you would mention Mehitabel, as surely, she is kind of creature, with whom you would find a kinship. Although, compared to her, you life is one of pomp and luxury, so really, no one, especially you, should begrudge Mehitabel her pecadillos. I mean, wouldn't you be as easily seduced as she was? You may protest, and say, no, not me, but don't we all have a price?

I hadn't thought of little Archie and Mehitabel in years until I heard their stories mentioned on Rush Limbaughthe daily Roach Worker Newspaper. And speaking of that, I overheard Red Square and some of his apparatchiks discussing the reincarnation of progs (as Mehitabel was the reincarnation of Cleopatra), and Red Square admitted that there was a good possibility that many progs were born as cockroaches and fleas, and that there was nothing wrong with this.

Comrade Fraulein,

Comrade Theocritus has a point about power and self respect, so I should think Dear Leader would lead a perfectly happy life as a flea on the back of a dog, sitting at the foot of Comrade Betinov, for instance.

And Comrade Betinov,

Are you telling me that you are afraid of a little poop? Just you wait until you yourself are one day reincarnated into a Bolshevik flea, or fly. You'll happily flit and fly around a pile of poop, just as all of Nanski Peloski's fellow progressive congressional representatives are ever so merry to flit and fly around her.

Poor Theo. He looks so sad and alone in his cave.

Comrade Ivan.... Nothing to worry about here.
He always looks like this in the morning.

Our homemade hootch " Beet Vodka " works wonders, doesn't it !

Alcohol is the oil of socialism.

Don't kid yourself, Comrade Betinov. He'll have that cave outfitted and decorated in no time with all kinds of confiscated decadent capitalist devices and furnishings, including a shoe closet fit for Imelda Marcos.

Leninka....

This is Theo's cave we're talking about here.
That shoe closet of Imelda's requires something a bit larger.

I know, I'll give the Dept. of the Interior a call and tell them I'm an Obama donor.
I'm sure they'd be happy to let our good "Father Prog" move into Carlsbad caverns .

Oh, that's a splendid idea. Bruno will love all the glittering crystals.

Of that I have no doubt.......
Bruno would probably try to eat them .

Carlsbad? And the first time there is a dinner party and Comrade Betinov gets bat-poop on his lid, then what? Do any of YOU care to listen to him squeal like a girl? I have vodka to drink and bacon-wrapped food things to nibble on at these events, I can't interrupt that to go looking for a bottle of windex.

Not to change the subject back to the original subject, but can Capitalist pigs get Bolshevik fleas?

Eeew...what is this stuff on my lid?

Anyhow, to answer Whoopie's pertinent question, the only place Bolshevik fleas can survive is on a capitalist carcase of some form. They will feed and feed and feed, until they have drained the body dry. It will then collapse underneath their collective weight. Many will die, but some will always survive to infest another host.

All right! Everyone report to Jiffy-Lobo™ instanter! Now! Get a move on!

No one is supposed to know about my headquarters in Carlsbad Caverns. No one. That's where I keep the things which cannot be exposed to the tusks of our dear Many Titted Empress or the claws of Nanski. It's, er, safe there.

And what a man cave it is. More plasma than the sun, huge B&W speakers, and there's one really great thing. WHen Bruno is too much with me, which is pretty much all the time, I try to lose him. I've told the comrades of how I abandoned him between Missoula and Billings, MT, and he beat me back. Not only did he beat me back, but he'd managed to filch my AmEx and the house was filled up with, funny you should mention it, lots of women's shoes. In size 14EEE.

And I had a bill there too. I don't know he did it; I stopped for four hours twice on the road and drove straight back, but there he was.

Carlsbad Caverns provide a solution. I take a large ball of twine and tie it to a stalagmite. I start down one of the caves, playing out the line until I come to the end, and I take as many turns as possible. I follow the string back, leaving it in place.

"Bruno," I call, "Guess what? I found a treasure of the fairies," and this is where he starts to pay strict attention, "and I rolled out that string so I could find it again. Why don't you get it? Just follow the string and so we can use it again, roll it up as you go."

I do this once a week and he gets lost in the cave for days. Just wonderful.

He really is as stupid as Sheila Jackson Lee, who gave us this:

The Fifth Amendment speaks specifically to denying someone their life and liberty without due process…it is important that we preserve lives and we recognize that 40 million-plus are uninsured. Can you tell me what's more unconstitutional than taking away from the people of America their Fifth Amendment rights, their Fourteenth Amendment rights, and the right to equal protection under the law?

Now you know I'm a true prog, but that sort of unexampled idiocy is a strain on the nerves.

You carry an AMEX card? How kapitalist! I denounced them in favor of Obamacard as soon as it was available.

Comrades,
There is much to be learned from the tiny flea. The wisdom of comrade flea is best exemplified by the Flea Circus and those that promote them:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEbTWup ... 7686D8E050

Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!

I had posted the latest on Bruno's cave last night but it disappeared. This can only mean that Bruno has hacked into my computer and has managed to figure out that a keyboard can be used for more than ordering shoes and bling.

Do no worry, comrades; all the credit card numbers that I copied down when you were in a stupor from the drugs I gave you resting in the afternoon at the Rancho are well encoded. There will no charges from Bruno for Victor's Secret or any shoe store.

Your credit cards are safe.

With me.

Now.