Thanksgiving in The United States of Irony
November 17, 2004. 10:15 am. The White House Rose Garden. President Bush and Vice President Cheney call the press corps together for the annual presidential pardoning of the Thanksgiving turkey. Following a precedent established in the 2003 presidential pardoning ceremony George W. Bush arranged for the release of not one but two birds. Bush's speech writers decided to make light the bitter pain fresh in the minds of the intelligent half of the electorate who battled passionately for his removal in the recent election by pardoning the turkey, Biscuits, and his "running mate," Gravy. He claimed the race was "neck and neck." All the sycophants in the press corps got a good chuckle. They must have forgotten in all of their journalistic wisdom that the president made the exact same joke in the same pointless ceremony last year - check out the "news" archives at www.whitehouse.gov.
Here's how it works. The National Turkey Federation puts on this amazing charade, and have been for years, on the White House lawn where one turkey is officially "pardoned" by the president. A little history lesson from the president in his 2001 Thanksgiving pardon address: "This White House tradition dates back to Abraham Lincoln. Probably what you don't know is that Abraham Lincoln had a son named Tad who kept a turkey as a pet." What you probably don't know Mr. President is that Abraham Lincoln also started a White House tradition known as the Department of Agriculture. Lincoln envisioned this governmental body as a "people's department," to use his words, serving as a watchdog to safeguard the food supply of the American people.
The current version of the USDA, shamelessly prostituted to the Tyson Corporation during the Clinton administration and sold out to multi-national agribusiness companies in the W presidency, is a shadow of its former self. The Department of Agriculture leadership is now comprised mainly of former industry executives who have the interests of giant agribusiness companies such as Monsanto, ConAgra and Cargill rather than the small family farmer in mind. The president, however, prefers to create a different image by representing the virtues of the American poultry industry in the pardoning ceremony with the symbolic farmer who raised brave little Biscuits and Gravy - played by Kevin Foltz and his attractive "working family" from Methias, West Virginia who paraded out onto the Rose Garden cameras with their all-American values and lucky turkeys. All they forgot was their dignity.
Lost in this act of shameless propaganda is the discussion of what actually happens to Biscuits and Gravy's less fortunate brethren. The "feeders" as they are known live out their days in hormonally supplemented bliss packed by the thousands into factory farms festering with disease and bacteria without the benefit of natural light or even their beaks or toes. They would only serve to get in the way of that succulent and tender white breast meat we all clamor for on the Thanksgiving carving board. This reality is a far cry from the scene painted by President Bush where Biscuits and Gravy peck around the barnyard in Methias, WV eating "American corn and American soybeans." Outside of this fantasy world Biscuits is just one of 60 million turkeys processed annually by Cargill - to whom Kevin Foltz sells his poultry - amongst putrid and disease ridden killing floors only loosely regulated by the corporate cronies of the USDA.
If only the American consumers forced to eat these dirty, diseased, hormonally supplemented, artificially inseminated, disabled creatures were as lucky as Biscuits and Gravy who get to live out the rest of their days at Frying Pan Ranch in Kidwell, Virginia. I can think of someone else who would love the chance to move to a ranch in rural Virginia.
Maybe instead of a saving the life of a turkey in a political stunt, the president should try pardoning a cute little Iraqi village boy instead. Just as Biscuits was saved from a slow and painful death on a feces and disease ridden poultry farm by the grace and compassion of our commander and chief, a tike from Fallujah could be saved from a long and painful death brought on by cancerous tumors forming in his brain as a result of the depleted uranium shells used by the United States Army in their attempt to eradicate his militant neighbor. Talk about a photo-op to end all photo-ops. This would make the presidential money shot with the giant prosthetic cock in the flight suit proclaiming "mission accomplished" on board a safely docked aircraft carrier half way through a disastrous war in Iraq look like something thought up by the inept Democratic boobs running the Kerry campaign.
All you have to do is have Donald Rumsfeld call off the dogs for two hours, tops. Then you swoop in with a special forces helicopter and scoop up a slightly malnourished and scared looking kid from the caring and protective arms of his mother. He shouldn't be hard to find. Whisk the cute little boy into the White House for a ceremony and all of the stooges in the press corps clap and give a little chuckle. The cameras roll and all of the poor people in Arkansas, Missouri, and Ohio snapping turkey's necks for $7 an hour will have something to warm their hearts when they see it on TV that night. I think you have yourself a third term on your hands with this one.
I live in the greatest country on earth. As a writer of politically-based satire I could not find myself more blessed in this time of Thanksgiving than to live in a nation so wrought with malignant corruption and endless warfare yet masked with a benign facade of utterly transparent and meaningless acts of compassion. God bless the United States of Irony.
Here's how it works. The National Turkey Federation puts on this amazing charade, and have been for years, on the White House lawn where one turkey is officially "pardoned" by the president. A little history lesson from the president in his 2001 Thanksgiving pardon address: "This White House tradition dates back to Abraham Lincoln. Probably what you don't know is that Abraham Lincoln had a son named Tad who kept a turkey as a pet." What you probably don't know Mr. President is that Abraham Lincoln also started a White House tradition known as the Department of Agriculture. Lincoln envisioned this governmental body as a "people's department," to use his words, serving as a watchdog to safeguard the food supply of the American people.
The current version of the USDA, shamelessly prostituted to the Tyson Corporation during the Clinton administration and sold out to multi-national agribusiness companies in the W presidency, is a shadow of its former self. The Department of Agriculture leadership is now comprised mainly of former industry executives who have the interests of giant agribusiness companies such as Monsanto, ConAgra and Cargill rather than the small family farmer in mind. The president, however, prefers to create a different image by representing the virtues of the American poultry industry in the pardoning ceremony with the symbolic farmer who raised brave little Biscuits and Gravy - played by Kevin Foltz and his attractive "working family" from Methias, West Virginia who paraded out onto the Rose Garden cameras with their all-American values and lucky turkeys. All they forgot was their dignity.
Lost in this act of shameless propaganda is the discussion of what actually happens to Biscuits and Gravy's less fortunate brethren. The "feeders" as they are known live out their days in hormonally supplemented bliss packed by the thousands into factory farms festering with disease and bacteria without the benefit of natural light or even their beaks or toes. They would only serve to get in the way of that succulent and tender white breast meat we all clamor for on the Thanksgiving carving board. This reality is a far cry from the scene painted by President Bush where Biscuits and Gravy peck around the barnyard in Methias, WV eating "American corn and American soybeans." Outside of this fantasy world Biscuits is just one of 60 million turkeys processed annually by Cargill - to whom Kevin Foltz sells his poultry - amongst putrid and disease ridden killing floors only loosely regulated by the corporate cronies of the USDA.
If only the American consumers forced to eat these dirty, diseased, hormonally supplemented, artificially inseminated, disabled creatures were as lucky as Biscuits and Gravy who get to live out the rest of their days at Frying Pan Ranch in Kidwell, Virginia. I can think of someone else who would love the chance to move to a ranch in rural Virginia.
Maybe instead of a saving the life of a turkey in a political stunt, the president should try pardoning a cute little Iraqi village boy instead. Just as Biscuits was saved from a slow and painful death on a feces and disease ridden poultry farm by the grace and compassion of our commander and chief, a tike from Fallujah could be saved from a long and painful death brought on by cancerous tumors forming in his brain as a result of the depleted uranium shells used by the United States Army in their attempt to eradicate his militant neighbor. Talk about a photo-op to end all photo-ops. This would make the presidential money shot with the giant prosthetic cock in the flight suit proclaiming "mission accomplished" on board a safely docked aircraft carrier half way through a disastrous war in Iraq look like something thought up by the inept Democratic boobs running the Kerry campaign.
All you have to do is have Donald Rumsfeld call off the dogs for two hours, tops. Then you swoop in with a special forces helicopter and scoop up a slightly malnourished and scared looking kid from the caring and protective arms of his mother. He shouldn't be hard to find. Whisk the cute little boy into the White House for a ceremony and all of the stooges in the press corps clap and give a little chuckle. The cameras roll and all of the poor people in Arkansas, Missouri, and Ohio snapping turkey's necks for $7 an hour will have something to warm their hearts when they see it on TV that night. I think you have yourself a third term on your hands with this one.
I live in the greatest country on earth. As a writer of politically-based satire I could not find myself more blessed in this time of Thanksgiving than to live in a nation so wrought with malignant corruption and endless warfare yet masked with a benign facade of utterly transparent and meaningless acts of compassion. God bless the United States of Irony.
posted by Yonder Vittles at 12:31 AM
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