Op-Eds Speaking Truth to the Powers-That-Be

How The Gingrinch Stole An Election

Every Plebe
Down in Plebe-ville
Liked Freedom a lot,

But the Gingrinch,
Who lived just North of Plebe-ville
Did NOT!

The Gingrinch hated real freedom. The whole “we’re all equal” thing!
Now, please don’t ask why it made his butt sting.

It could be that his head wasn’t screwed on right.
It could be his big ego made his noggin a bit tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his sense of compassion was two sizes too small.

Whatever the reason
His lack of compassion or his ego,
His said the Plebes freedom
Was something he’d see go.

He stood there on Election Day hating the Plebes,
Staring down from his K Street window with a sour, Gingrinchy frown,
At the foreclosed homeless wandering o’er the town.
For he knew every Plebe down in Plebe-ville did dote
On their overrated right to vote.

“And they’re hanging their bunting!” he snarled with a sneer.
“Tomorrow’s the Election. It’s practically here!”
Then he growled, his Gingrinch brain pondering how to win,
“I MUST find a way to put the fix in!”

Tomorrow, he knew…

All the Plebe voters, most all on the dole,
Would wake bright and early. They’d find their local poll!
And then they would vote Obama!  That Democrat hack.
They’d vote for him in droves
Even though he was black!

Then the Plebes, young and old, would cheer with glee
From the Kochs and old Gingrinch we’ve kept Plebe-ville free!
And then they’d GLOAT!




They would gloat on the streets, and (gag) MSNBC
They’d turn over flatscreens with Fox News on TV

They’d prepare for another Inauguration Day
With Oprah and Aretha and men who are gay!

They’d do something
He he found most indecent!

Every Plebe down in Plebe-ville, the 99%
They’d do something that got the Gingrinch really bent,
They would come together for the Liberty Bell’s ring
They’d stand hand-in-hand. And they’d fix everything

They’d take care of the poor.
They’d keep the New Deal
And after 40 long dark years,
Plebe-ville would heal

And the more that the Gingrinch thought of the end of his hate gravy train
The more the Gingrinch thought, “I MUST MUST MUST REIGN!”
“Why, I owe it to the Rushes, Glenns and Anns,
And their millions of fear-fed hate-filled White Plebe fans.
Then he resolved to protect those GOP Libertarian fakes
“I must stop Obama now! I have put on the brakes!”

“Why, for 40 years we’ve put up with FDR
His socialism needs some fixin’,
Just when we thought we’d set the high bar
We got the rug pulled out by that big Dick Nixon.

“I must stop the Plebes, but HOW?
“I must keep them from winning!”
said the Gingrinch .”The time is now.”
“I must do some spinning.”

Then he got an idea!
The Gingrinch got an AWFUL,
Wonderful, evil Idea!

“I know just what to do!” the Gingrinch clucked in his throat.
And he made a quick elections supervisor badge for his coat.
He GOOGLED polling places. He took lots of notes.
“With this  coat and this badge I can steal boxes of votes!”

“I’ll need an assistant…”
The Gingrinch looked around
After vacations and Tiffanys, there were none to be found.
Did that stop the old Gingrinch?
NO! The Gingrinch simply said:
“If I can’t FIND a staffer, I’ll make one for instead”
So he called his old dog Grover: “Come to me!”
Norquist said: “Okay boss. First, how much is the fee?”

They made a deal quick
They loaded up a beat-up old van
To carry out the Gingrinch’s evil election plan

They loaded up ballot boxes
And rigged voting machines
To hijack the votes of those with no means.

Then the Gingrinch gave Grover the keys
“Once we steal enough votes,
We’ll do as we please.”

Then the beat up old van started down
To where the Plebes waited in long lines
Securely voting in their town.

All the Plebes stood for hours
They complained, groused, and grumbled a lot
About waiting to exercise their civic powers
When the Gingrich executed stage one of his plot.

He slipped past the poll workers, that slimy ol’ snake
He left the ballots of Plebes with means,
But every last poor Plebe vote he proceeded to take
He even took their polling machines

Hoodwinking Plebe poll watchers in pairs
He took their registration lists, pens tables and chairs

From poll to poll he and Grover did race
Taking ballot boxes and “I Voted” stickers from every last place

He was about to grab the last ballot,
but before he could flee
He was stopped by Edna Mae Munson,
who was no more than 73

“Mister election supervisor,” the septuagenarian said
I’ve voted in every election since 1955
That’s longer than you’ve been alive
But they won’t let me vote! They told me I’m dead!”

Can you help me, Mr. Elections Supervisor?
Pretty, pretty please?
Paying $200 for a proof I’m alive
Will bring me to my knees!

“Tut, tut, mother” oozed the fake elections supervisor with false charm,
Til he saw the Obama 2012 sticker on her sleeve
“I’m afraid that you’re dead!” he said with alarm
And, as he scooted her from the poll he said: “You’ll have to leave.”

Then Gingrinch kicked back,
In his gloatiest gloat,
Grover, you old hack
We have every poor Plebe’s vote!

Three thousand feet up, lurched the overloaded van
to the twin peaks of Mt. Koch,
Dumping every last Plebe ballot, his evil plan
Into the Cavern of Ailes (No Joke!)

As Grover drove to the peak,
The Ginrgrinch stuck his head head out the window
But down in Plebe-ville, there was nary a squeak.

“When they hear that I’ve won!
Oh won’t that be so much fun!

I’ll stand firm! I won’t budge!
Til I’ve locked up every activist judge!

And won’t they be sad, oh
When I cancel Rachel Maddow!”

THEN, the Gingrinch put the wind to his ears,
Expecting to hear boo-hoos and lots of Plebe tears,
Instead though he heard the faint sound of… CHEERS?

The Plebes they weren’t crying!
In spite of his thieving and sneaking and lying.

The Liberty Bell rang!
And every Plebe down in Plebe-ville
They sang and they sang!

They sang the Plebe-ville Anthem Suite
And the black, brown, blue and white
They stood hand-in-hand
From the Far Left to Far Right

The Gingrinch stood with the ballots perched o’er the hole
They’re singing without victory?
My true patriots? And those on the dole?!
How could it be?!

He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore,
What happened then?
Well, so goes the lore,
That on the top of Mt. Koch
The Gingrinch once more
Discovered that elections aren’t a joke

“The Plebes must be heard! I’m not Lyndon Larouche”
How could I have ever been such a douche?!

They say,
That the Gingrich’s great ego
Shrunk three sizes that day

He drove back to the polls
With a smile, not a sneer!
He returned every vote
And wished every poor Plebe voting day cheer!

He sold off his Rolls
He no longer wanted to gloat.

“My ego, not my ideas, are why I wanted to win.”
Then the Gingrinch let reason and civic brotherhood seep in.

He hugged Oprah,
He hugged a gay!
And he, the Gingrinch himself
Stood with Obama on Inauguration Day.

About Brian Ross

Brian Ross is a writer, screenwriter, political satirist, documentarian, filmmaker and chef. Ad hoc, ad loc, quid pro quo... so little time. So much to know!

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