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Forty-Eighth Sort

Poet Jon Deer pens an ode to the VP.

by Dear Jon
May 10, 2001

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Forty-Eighth Sort_Dear Jon-Poet Jon Deer pens an ode to the VP. ACTUAL LETTER TO DEAR JON:

Dear Jon,
What's wrong with drilling for oil? -Dick

Dear Dick, I am going to assume that you are the Vice President of the United States. I am not at all surprised that the world's most powerful officials would seek advice in this forum; as I have been saying all along, it is about time. Besides, there is no way for me to tell that you are NOT the Vice President, so to enter into the spirit of your letter, I might as well assume that you are, right?

Your question, however, strikes me as being defensive in tone. I do not think you are taking this defensive tone with me, because as far as I know, I have not criticized your "Take No Prisoners" energy policy of environmental holocaust. However, it is possible that I might have and forgot about it, given that I normally spend about 10 minutes on each "Dear Jon" submission and it is all stream of thought. Since I am not about to go through my first 48 sorts or whatever, I am going to give myself the benefit of the doubt.

Perhaps you should talk about your defensiveness with someone. I am absolutely positive that in the enlightened environment of the 21st Century, no one in America would view with shame their Vice-President seeking psychological counseling. I think we would all feel better if you did. Take Dear Jon's word for it!

Dear Readers, As a tribute to receiving a letter from our Vice President, I have commissioned a special poem by "Jon Deer."

Pennsylvania Avenue Billies

Let me tell a story 'bout a man named Dick,
a rich Wyoming son, not just a cowboy hick.
Then one day he was salting up his food,
when up from his gut came something loud and crude.

Gas that is. Loud and clear. The mother of all belches.

Next thing you know old Dick is in E.R.
The doctor said, "Dick, your weight has gone too far. Your heart is like a rig with a broke hydraulic pump, and your blood is thick as groundwater next to a toxic dump."

Then Dick said to George, "Don't you worry now for me,
I'm fit to do my job, just like your Dad agreed.
We'll drill until we strike if it takes these first four years,
and we'll bomb Iraq again until all of OPEC fears."

American power, that is. Our way of life. God bless us all.

Next time you're at the pump filling up the SUV,
give thanks to Higher Powers for giving us this great VP.
He will see to it unleaded won't cost more than we can pay,
while all his friends in oil will get richer by the day.

But spare no thought for environmental freaks,
they're all just crazed tree-hugging eco-geeks.
Unlimited resources like the sun, and wind, and seas,
are anti-profit margin, so toss those thoughts to the breeze.

Sound-bytes, that is. No debate. No time.

--Jon Deer

Dear Jon's Thought for the Day: If someone wants to ask me "What is up with Bert and Ernie anyway?" I would be glad to write about it.

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