How to make sense of current events through coprophagia: a play in one actApril 8, 2011
“I have a magnificent plan to fix all the money problems in America,” says Psycho Dave, throwing down a stack of stapled papers on my coffee table. “And we should implement it immediately.”
“Okay, so what is it?” I say.
“I’m going to shit in your mouth,” says Psycho Dave.
“Well, I don’t think this is a plan that I can get behind,” I say.
“Your extreme partisanship shows that you’re not serious about fixing the problems facing our nation,” says Psycho Dave. “All you’re doing is playing the same petty political games that got us into this mess to begin with.”
“I don’t want you shitting in my mouth,” I say. “Shitting in my mouth is a horrible idea.”
“Once again the Party of No rears its ugly head, naysaying everything and offering no ideas of their own,” says Psycho Dave.
“I have a great idea, it’s called not shitting in my mouth,” I say.
“You are obviously an unserious person who doesn’t want to confront our current fiscal reality,” says Psycho Dave.
“I’m serious about you not shitting in my mouth,” I say. “That’s an awful plan and it won’t solve anything.”
“That’s not what New York Times columnist David Brooks says about my plan to shit in your mouth,” says Psycho Dave, conjuring the columnist from the aether. “He says my plan is the most comprehensive and courageous proposal anyone has ever seen in their lifetimes.”
“Does this plan involve shitting in David Brooks’ mouth?” I say.
“No it does not,” says Psycho Dave.
“Then David Brooks doesn’t know what the word courageous means,” I say. “He doesn’t know what a lot of words mean, and his ratio of wrong things said to correct things said is so lopsided toward being wrong that I swear he’s being a paint-huffing helmet-wearing buffoon on purpose. Plus he looks like a child molester.”
“Well, all his other Washington friends think my plan is bold, courageous, and very serious,” says Psycho Dave. “It’s doubly serious because I’m wearing a tie.”
“Tie or not, your plan doesn’t involve shitting in their mouths,” I say. “And furthermore, how does shitting in my mouth fix anything?”
“According to research from the Heritage Foundation, shitting in your mouth will reduce unemployment to negative 9 percent by 2020,” says Psycho Dave. “That means… uh… you know however many people are unemployed now? Not only will they have jobs, they will have a second job on top of that.”
“You still haven’t said how exactly shitting in my mouth is supposed to do that,” I say.
“It’s called the Invisible Sphincter of the Free Market,” says Psycho Dave. “It’s the cornerstone of capitalist thought, courtesy of Adam Smith. You’d know that if you’d ever stalked a girl who was taking an economics course at community college.”
“You’re not shitting in my mouth based on your wild and creepy misunderstanding of economic theory,” I say.
“I can get a few Democratic politicians to suggest that you at least should let me rub a turd on your lips,” says Psycho Dave. “Will that show you how bipartisan and serious my plan is? Are you willing to compromise? Meet me halfway here?”
“I don’t think you appreciate my firm conviction of keeping feces away from my mouth,” I say.
“Well, if I can’t shit in your mouth then I’m shutting the government down,” says Psycho Dave. “And then everything will be worse and I’ll have no choice but to blame it all on you and your ideologically stubborn and intellectually bankrupt refusal to work with me on the important issues facing our nation.”
“Could you do your blaming somewhere that’s not my living room?” I say. “I have more constructive things to do other than debate the dubious merits of you shitting in my mouth or not… things like eating a whole bag of rock salt.”
Psycho Dave leaves with his courageously bold and serious plan. I don’t know whether he plans to pitch a similarly serious plan to Ninja Vicki where if she signs over ownership of her lady parts to him that it will keep the sky from falling, but I seriously doubt she will be as patient and cordial with her dissent as I was, mainly because she hasn’t spent all morning drinking rum out a whale skull.