Tropetopia IV — Youth Outreach: LCIT, VCIT, and TPIT

I do try to do my part here at home in America in the ever ongoing effort to conquer the world in mind and body, spirit and money, for the greater glory of all. Always have — first by being a loyal-consumer-in-training (a most proper lcit) and then by graduating into a steadfast loyal consumer, and finally by working as a Terminator of History in Rockview Terminal School District (High Schools having been renamed as Terminals, you may recall from Youthtopia, after the word “high” was nearly banned from the language during one of this country’s many brilliant and ongoing wars against certain drugs and their disobedient users and sellers, patients and celebrants).

Such pastoral and otherwise relaxing reflections upon my roots – as these that I’ve put down in this American Campaign Journal — indeed, all our roots – soon gave me the idea to use that language most near and dear to my very heart and soul as an integral part of my campaign. In other words, the Terminal tongue is that of which I speak, and speak, I do.

Thoughts of using specific Terminal lingo in my campaign to be President of the United States led direct to my next campaign planning session with the Arranger. “I would like to make a special appeal to the lcit of our grand land during the campaign,” I told the Arranger, “for it is the lcit to whom I feel I am especially equipped to speak.”

“Ah, yes,” the Arranger rubbed his jaw then scratched his chin. “The lcit. I had been meaning to speak to you about that. It’s a matter of terminology, I fear, which we must fine tune as best we can.”

He nodded sagely.

“The lcit, you see, can actually not be best known as ‘loyal-consumers-in-training’ – useful as that term is. No, the lcit, to you, are more properly known to us, the Arrangers, as, loyal, yes ideally, and faithful, even better, but to be most exact, we Arrangers know and refer to your lcit as vcit, that is, as vendors-consumers-in-training. You see, Stan, for the human condition to best thrive, it is essential that people not only consume as much as possible, whenever and wherever possible, virtually, of course, everywhere and all the time, but also that they vend, that is, sell diligently, as much as possible, virtually all the time and everywhere – all the while accruing profits ever upwards to the venerable masters of commerce that be. Buy-sell, vend-consume, et cetera, ad infinitum. You do see the inescapable symmetry and harmony, rationale and propriety of this inevitable fiscal and social arrangement, don’t you, Stan D. Garde?”

“All the while ever accruing profits upward,” I repeated, reaffirming the glorious mantra. “Yes, I do. I do indeed see the essential and inescapable nature of it all.”

The Arranger clapped his hands. “I’m glad. Of course, vcit, or venders-consumers-in-training is quite a mouthful, so informally, you know, we accruers like to refer to the people simply as “trading posts” – and the students of course as trading-posts-in-training, or tpit – you know it’s easier on the tongue and mind, with its more colloquial, more folksy feel. ‘Trading posts’ is to people as ‘troops’ is to warriors or soldiers. We are dealing with trading posts here, Stan – ideally loyal, faithful, thrill-seeking, diligent, risk-taking, glamour-loving, perspiration-mongering vendor-consumer trading posts.”

“That’s rather delightful, if quaint,” said I. “A real throwback. People as trading posts – I like it. Let us appeal, then, for the votes of all trading posts everywhere – and let us not forget the tpit, too – our ever-loyal trading-posts-in-training.”

“Excellent. And have you arrived at your ultimate campaign slogan?”

“Conquer the World, Now!” I told him proudly, “one trading post at a time.”

“Outstanding! Excellent work, Stan D. Garde. We knew you had it in you. But we will drop the ‘trading post’ part in public, of course. ‘Conquer the World, Now’ — I do like it. Kind of says it all, doesn’t it? Short and punchy — to the point. Brilliant! Stan D. Garde, I believe we have a deal.”

“A deal, indeed,” said I, as proud as could be. “And, indeed, a great deal to do.”

Tropetopia III — Great Theme Unveiled

“Conquer the World, Now.”

I awoke.

That was it. No better campaign theme imaginable. “Conquer the world, now. Conquer the world, and how. Conquer, conquer, conquer — Conquer the world, now and how.”

Continue reading Tropetopia III — Great Theme Unveiled

Tropetopia II — Great Campaign Theme

“We trust you to come up with your very own campaign themes,” the Arranger told me. “In fact, we are counting on you to do so.”

So I gave the matter long and elaborate thought over the course of a few minutes and decided I would run primarily upon the plank of “Free Work for All!” No charge to pitch in to help this great land of ours. The Arranger vetoed the idea. “It’s not bouncy enough. We need a theme that will truly inspire the very moment in which it is heard, a theme that may be repeated endlessly to the same great uplifting effect.”

Continue reading Tropetopia II — Great Campaign Theme

Tropetopia I — American/Global Campaign Journal

My god, they wanted me to run for President of the United States of America – little ol’ me, Stan D. Garde, semi-retired Terminator (of History) at Rockview Terminal School District, and author of Youthtopia, the Rockview Terminal Parent’s Handbook.

“What? Me?” I asked the DemRep party head. “Why?”

He smiled big. “Because you know just what to say. You could even write your own speeches. You’ve proved it in Youthtopia.”

This made me feel very proud indeed.

“I can hardly believe you’re serious,” said I.

“Oh, yes,” said he.

“But no one knows I even exist.”

“They will.”

“But I’m just – a common man.”

“Not nearly as common as you think, a pity,” said he. “Come now, do you accept the party’s nomination?”

Of course, nowadays, there was only one party that counted, ever since the Dumblicans and Repugnocrats (I’m sorry, I apologize for sometimes slipping into the vulgar street talk one continues to hear too often), I mean, of course, ever since the Democans and Republicrats formally joined forces, instead of unoffically enabling one another in that peculiar collaborative combative fashion all those years.

“How can I accept the party’s nomination?” I asked the DemRep head. ”Isn’t there a formal process to go through, primaries to run?”

The party head smiled again. He seemed endeared to me. “That can be arranged,” said he. “That is what I do, you know. You might call me, The Arranger.”

It’s so nice to have things arranged for you. I figured I could do nothing less than accept. I figured it was my duty – which I gladly and proudly did. “I accept.”

“Gulliver,” whispered a Terminator (of English) nearby, who had come over somewhat surreptitiously to listen.

“Yes,” I said to my fellow Terminator, “I do feel I am starting out upon a grand and wondrous journey into some wild and perhaps ever more strange lands. And I will do it all to serve my Country, my People.”

And so it was – I accepted the party’s nomination to run for the nomination to be the next President of the United States.

Alas, how little did I know at the time. There would be the brutal primary race to survive, lasting a grueling year. I would be forced to compete relentlessly against other such candidates as myself – each of us pitted remorselessly yet cordially against one another in order to find the fittest of the glibbest – to be the next president of the land.

This is my very personal story – the run for the presidency, by Stan D. Garde, the incredible race to be the next President of the United States of America. This is my private journal that I hope to publish after the fact – for whatever benefit it might humbly accrue to humanity.

Maybe too I will write my own speeches, as the Arranger so generously suggested. I’ll take care to craft all the slogans and tropes that best befit the Presidency – powerful slogans and illuminating tropes that I hope to present here as well in these most humble and modest pages.

I present my American Campaign Journal as a public service to all America, to the entire world. As such, I hereby entitle it –

Tropetopia

or,

How To Become the Next Great President of the United States of America

(and the World).

I dedicate this American Campaign Journal – which might more realistically be named, Global Campaign Journal –

“To the great Arranger, first and foremost, without whom I would have remained but a modest Terminator in the latter stages of a vigorous but declining career; and, last not least, to America and the entire civilized world, without which I could scarcely imagine life, or know where to find the will to live.”

Tropetopia. 

———————————

Links to:

First Tropetopia episodes:
Tropetopia II — Great Campaign Theme
Tropetopia III — Great Theme Unveiled
Tropetopia IV — Youth Outreach: LCIT, VCIT, and TPIT
Tropetppia V — Official Sloganeer
Tropetopia VI — Hurl On
Tropetopia VII — The Curse of the Dumblicans and the Repugnocrats
Tropetopia VIII — Epic of Epics
Tropetopia IX — The Pangloss Score: The DemReps
Tropetopia X — I Mean What I Say
Tropetopia XI — The Tropetopian Age
Tropetopia XII — Down with John Doe Dimslow
Tropetopia XIII — The Pangloss Score II: The US Conquest of the Middle East
Tropetopia XIV — The Stan D. Garde and John Doe Dimslow Debate
Tropetopia XV — The Pangloss Score III: The Up Side of Climate Change

Tropetopia all

A Practical Policy

This satire “A Practical Policy” is essentially an update of Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal” (1729) with the focus here primarily on the U.S. and Iraq rather than England and Ireland. Some of the form and text of Swift’s piece has been incorporated.

 

A PRACTICAL POLICY

 

 For Preventing the Children and Youth of Iraq and the World from being a Burden to Their Parents or Countries, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Global Economy  

It is a melancholy object to observe the plight of children in the ancient land of Iraq during this era of U.S.-led economic sanctions and invasion, occupation and continued warfare. A prestigious medical journal reports hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilian fatalities. Trapped in a disemboweled economy, Iraqi parents too often find themselves unable to provide for their children’s basic needs – nutritional, educational, medicinal, limbnal. Trying to keep one’s children’s limbs from being blown off, heads not least, by American and other weaponry has proven to be one of many daunting challenges for Iraqis in this time of the American occupation.  

By now, it can only be agreed by all sane observers that the grotesque mortality rate and mass suffering of Iraqi children cannot be considered worth even the most high-minded motives behind the U.S. occupation; and, therefore whatever might be discovered to be a just, affordable, and compassionate solution to this dreadful situation should be implemented immediately – A Practical Policy.  

Continue reading A Practical Policy