This week, Lucius Flatley invited the coffee shop’s attention to the political campaign among the animals on the Flatley farm.
The Avian (birdlike) Party leader, Alhambra, is a Muscovite duck, which causes some patriotic sheep to believe that he must be from Moscow and is a secret Cossack.
Also, he has been a bit flighty, changing his mind on a large pipeline planned from Buxton, allowing well drilling in several pastures, and failing to close the prison corral that held wild mustangs in the old Keddy mill in Little Falls. These reverses have disappointed his supporters among the younger animals and house pets, and they may sit on their haunches this election. Together with a poor harvest season and decline in farm prices, it is possible for him to lose.
Therefore, all roads lead to Rome, and this year every TV is tuned to the Ovine (sheeplike) Party contest. Egged on by TV cameras and softball questions from friendly interviewers, Ovine presidential candidates have been holding a weekly debate wherever a barn can be found. These debates are confused, noisy and with disappointing outcome. They produce heat but very little light. So to keep the viewing public excited, pollsters have been announcing a new “frontrunner” every week.
First came Donald the Odd Duck, whose main qualification for farm president is his striking hairdo – apparently worn to draw attention away from the closeness of his eyes. Then came mean Michelle the Porcupine (an Ovine token female) who, despite a disconcerting habit of looking into space while on camera, appeals to farm swine with large families because of her 23 adopted children.
Next was Herman the Harrier Horse, whose main qualification was his record of offering free sex therapy to female employees. Apparently this earlier career was so successful, he plans to revive it. At press time he was suspending his valiant effort to make things right on the farm.
Also apparently growing weaker by the utterance was Benny Bilious the Texas bull, blowing bubbles of brain burps, who appealed to many Ovine Party thinkers.
And, most recently, Newt the Grinch, a Fat Tomcat with his newest trophy showcat and her bill collectors. Even Foxy News had trouble with the smell that seemed to emanate from his expansive torso.
Floating consistently near the middle of the pack is a perennial Ovine candidate, Simple Paul Poodle, an elderly terrier who believes each town should print its own money, that Congress had no business giving a medal to Mother Theresa, and considers taxes to be theft. Part of his attraction is that he’s against the war on drugs, and considers Dick Cheney disgraceful.
Remaining steady in the pack is the plodding patriarch, Milton the Mormon Moose – famous for meandering meanings. But, as a critter who can afford to tear down a $3 million vacation home to replace it with another costing over $40 million, and who is absolutely determined to be president, he can be counted on to remain in the race as long as there is a TV camera around.
Candidate Sanctimonious Santorus Squirrel, who holds extreme positions on social behavior and believes in a homophobic Santa, cannot be entirely counted out. He blames his sick child on a national health care program that won’t go into effect for two more years, and he thinks gays want sex with animals – beliefs shared by far too many Ovine Party members.
Overlooked entirely in the polls is Harry Hunterman Hartebeest, a candidate with two unfortunate qualities: He makes sense and he reads and writes two languages. Ovines prefer candidates who rarely read books, and above all, who appear to possess no intellectual qualities.
Few observers would dare predict the eventual winner, not least because, according to most of the contestants themselves, Jesus has personally encouraged them.
There is apparently a heavenly conflict here.
Devil’s Dictionary thought for the week:
Saint: A dead sinner, revised and edited.
Rodney Quinn, a former Maine secretary of state and university history and government instructor, lives in Westbrook. He can be reached at rquinn@maine.rr.com.
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