Dude and Dude: Take the Ling Way Home

“Yo, dude!”


“What’s that on tha ceiling?


“[…] say whut?

“Ya heard me.”

“Do I look like a sheepdog, dude?!? B’sides, they’s only one a ya. Which is enuff, yeah? I wouldn’ try ta herd ya even if’n I wuz a sheepdog.”

“Whaddaya want from me, dude? Ya said it was on tha sealing. It’s gotta be salty. Now if’n ya said it wuz on tha lakeling ‘r somethin’ …”

“Dude, this is soundin’ kinda fishy …”

“An’ a damn big fish it is, dude. Sure hope it don’ fall on ya from up there, might break somethin’. ‘Less a course it lands on yer head.”

“I don’ see it, dude.”

“Then howcom yer askin’ me ta tell ya what’s up there, dude?!? Ya ‘spect me ta listen fer it wit’ a stethoscope ‘r somethin’? ‘Cause if’n ya do, ya shoulda told me it wuz on tha hearling.”

“O .. my ..”

“An if’n ya ‘spect me ta get up there wit’ a ladder an’ feel ’round fer it, wit’out tha courtesy a tellin’ me that it wuz somewhere on tha touchling, ya c’n think again!

“Riiiight. All’s I know, dude, is that if’n this ling thingy is as big as ya say it is, an’ ya leave it up there wit’out findin‘ it, it’s gonna wind up on tha smelling, an’ then somethin’s gonna get seriously control-Xed.”

Command-Xed! Like what?”

“Like tha landlord givin’ us p’rmission ta live here! That smelling thing could be, like, a real bone a contention.”

She: “Bones is easy. Just boil ’em up!”

“It’s OC’s Quilly, dude. How’d she get in here?”

“She, like, owns tha place, dude? I don’ like her chances a gettin’ bones a contention inta a pot.

She: “That pot thing would be something I’d be asking you dudes about, hm? Yes, those are funny bones to be messing with. But you know what you get when you boil funny bones, right?”

“Um …”

She: “A laughing stock.”


She: “What? You don’t find that humerus?”

“Has she got a bone ta pick wit’ us?”

“Nah. We got one ta pick wit’ her!

He: “Chill, dudes. Don’t let what she’s telling you get to you. It’s all a big fibula.”


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Reg and Syd: The Exploit of Happiness

Reg: “Now this is what I call ‘following up on your advantage’.

Syd: “Do tell.”

Reg: “You remember, Syd, how, earlier this year, Dan Edelman’s people reported that ’employers’ are now the most trusted people in the world?”

Syd: “I remember that, of course. I also remember thinking, at the time, that this was like the old saying, ‘asking the fox to guard the henhouse’. Where was Samuel Gompers buried again?”

Reg: “New York. Not California. Ha ha. His days, and his movement’s days, of moving and shaking are long over, as I know you know despite your feeble attempts to goad me. We are in charge now, and why shouldn’t we use our authority, willingly granted to us by our employees, to remind them that their happiness depends on their acceptance of the levels of financial compensation that make the best business sense to us?”

Syd: “The strategy does seem to be working. In the longest-running boom the country has ever had, half of U.S. citizens still make less than $20/hr, and a third make less than $15.”

Reg: “And when silly people try to jack up those numbers, against our interests, sensible people, who were voted into office to be sensible, put a stop to the nonsense.”

Syd: “And when this happens, do the cattle fight back?”

Reg:No!!! That’s the beauty of all this! We can enjoy the serene lagoons of Pago Pago in our superyachts, while we help enrich our buddies in the credit industry with the struggles of unworthy people to pay for daily bread, never mind catch up with the debt they all saddled themselves with in the foolish idea that any of them deserved anything more than unbleached muslin, and a crust of bread thrown at them daily in their hovels, and not a peep from any of them!”

Syd:Not quite true, Reg.”

Reg: “What, Syd, the Wayfair thing? Please tell me that you understand how wonderful this is for us! We can play the ‘social responsibility’ card all day long. A few platitudes, a strategically placed photo op, some carefully managed investments, and the blessed folk who trust us pipe down and get back to the business of making us our new personal Airbus fleets. So long as we can continue to distract our laborers from the things that actually matter – like their precipitously declining standards of living – with ‘personal happiness’ tropes and ‘social cause’ propaganda, we are sitting pretty.”

Syd: “You know, Reg, we really do have to hand it to our Donald. If ever there was a person who personified the adage, ‘an ounce of image is worth a pound of performance’, and used the principle to drive an entire nation …”

Reg: “And to our benefit. Marketing 101.”

Syd: “Of course.”

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Amoeba’s Lorica: Meme-ories 22 (Pride Husbandry)

Kris: “I thought Ares was the Greek god of war?”

Murphy: “He was, and one of the twelve Olympians to boot. Polemus was middle management. He did all the dirty work, and his boss got all the temples and worship.”

Kris: “That doesn’t sound like a recipe for survival in a modern urban fantasy novel.”

Murphy: “Or in the company org chart, then or now. But Polemus is remembered, so he’s luckier than most.”

Kris: “How so? […] Oh. wait. The polemic!

Murphy: “About the only way anybody talks at anybody anymore.”

Kris: “So a polemic – speech, book, podcast, yada – is literally a war of words?”

Murphy: “Yes. Would that they stop there. But with Hubris in full cry …”

Kris: “You’re scaring me.”

Murphy: “You’ve taken this long …?”

[Source for Aesop’s fable.]

Posted in Amoeba's Lorica, history, Kris an' Murphy, meme, politics, We the People | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments