Why I call myself a dictator
I’ve received several e-mails asking why I call myself a dictator. I wonder why I do that myself. HMMM! EUREKA! When my wife makes chocolate cake with chocolate frosting (on those rare occasions), I demand chocolate ice cream with it and get it. So there! Actually I know exactly why I’m a dictator. To heck with calling myself one. I just couldn’t resist the urge to mention one of my favorite desserts. TO THE MEAT!
The official definition of dictator (via Merriam-Webster Dictionary):
1 a : a person granted absolute emergency power; especially : one appointed by the senate of ancient Rome b : one holding complete autocratic control c : one ruling absolutely and often oppressively
Let’s focus on b and c. I realized during my high school years that I could never do the political thing. Cause when I ran for student council president as a senior in high school, I listened intently to everyone’s point of view but gave it nary a thought. Because I knew what was good for them. Instead of all that homecoming king and queen stuff, I wanted full contact Texas Hold’em with hockey pads on. Make the homecoming court fight it out for king and queen. Now that would be a beautiful thing. Think someone’s bluffing? Get up and throw your body into them. Hole card isn’t quite good enough? Blast the dealer with a well-placed drop kick. Fun! Fun! Fun! Alas, I had to suffer through the democratic process and watch the mindless teenaged students vote for their favorite candidate. YUCK!
Well, that was the start of my change into a dictator. I realized that government politics was too rich with peanut butter and a dollop of roof tar for me to even take seriously. Just look at the names of the two major political parties: Democrats and Republicans! Where’s the style in those names? Sound like the names of some out-of-style t-shirt company or something. BAH! And look at their symbols: a donkey and an elephant. Two animals that generate extremely odious, copious, and downright revolting piles of shitterfication. BAH HUMBUG! Why be part of two shitty, out-of-style t-shirt companies?
Unfortunately (or fortunately for you unstylish folks) those shitty, out-of-style t-shirt companies control city, township, county, state, and federal governments. And being shitty isn’t enough. They have to act all pissy towards us and each other. They get television and radio time. Permeate almost every single aspect of our lives. And entire companies and organizations get ridiculous amounts of love from the shitty t-shirters. It’s downright sobering and icky.
So I have become a dictator. It allows me free reign to comment stupidly, intelligently, creatively, alarmingly, unconsciously, happily, ignorantly, outrageously, and bodaciously about any and every issue secure in the knowledge that I am and will always be right while answering to no one. HAPPY! HAPPY! JOY! JOY!
I know what’s good for all of you at this very moment. Yes sir! I’m a dictator and I know what my potential subjects need. Here is my grand “what you need to do right now” declaration:
Put a big, cheesy smile on your face and imagine yourself naked, wet, and running through fields of cotton balls. After running through the field of cotton balls, imagine a big mirror in front of you. And look at yourself with all those cotton balls stuck to you with the big ol’ smile on your face. HAHAHAHAHA!!
You know you like it. You know you want me to be your dictator. Cause you know I’m cool like that. Don’t you just love my oppressive ways?
10 19 05
Hello T Steel:
Good post btw:)
you are so very funny and thoughtful. You have provided the intellectual framework for your posts that I respect greatly. The discussion btw you and Dell on my blog was cool and incidentally, I published part II dealing with the intersexed today:) I am guest posting at dell’s site today. it will be about homelessnes
CHANCE: T-Steel some people need good dictators,
to help them and to think for them and this is true.
Because not everybody can handle bring free and an individual with civil rights and voting rights, etc.
So be a good Dictator. And I read your comment over at Dellgines.com on the Marcus Garvey post, thanks for agreeing with BIG T.
PEACE OUT,
BY CHANCE
Written during the 21st century by Chance.
I guess I’m a dictator too. Actually, ever since I was a little kid I’ve fantasized about what I’d do if I was Dictator of the World. Crazy thing for a girl to fantasize about, huh?
Sometimes it does seem like the world needs a dictator. That would be great if it was me, maybe even if it was you but the trouble with dictators is that in real life they’re almost always bloodthirsty bastards.