Ask Not What Your Country is Doing

Good people, do you know there's a war going on? I trifle not. I just found out about it, much to my astonishment. It's apparently in Albania or Argentina, somewhere in that region, and yes, we are heavily involved. Our fighting boys and their dads and butch sisters are over there as we speak. If only there were some way the public could be informed on the political actions of our leaders.

Needless to say, as a patriotic American second in fervor only to the late Roy Cohn, I went down to offer my skills to the military recruiters. Unfortunately, my skills as an ace columnist and professional dreamcatcher weaver didn't exactly suit the needs of the military at this time. I am unfortunately unfit for active service, due to my height, my age, and a phony backbrace I wore to the recruiter's office, which I assure was part of an unrelated matter I'd rather not go into.

It's sad to know you're not class A cannon fodder material, but I'll learn to deal with it. There are other ways to serve my country, I know, and I was determined to find it as long as my country was under fire and my interest was minorly raised.

I'm proud to say, loyal readers, Rok Finger was the first on his block to organize a rubber drive. I went door to door collecting, but faired poorly; it's a shame how many used prophylactics are just thrown out these days. The few I did collect, well, let's just sum up by saying the federal officials I talked to weren't anxious to take them off my hands. I could barely take them off my own hands, it wasn't a pleasant experience. Until a more concentrated need for recycling pops up, though, I won't be collecting any more materials for the government.

My next thought was to buy and sell war bonds. But I wasn't even sure where to start the purchase of war bonds. I remember the old slogan, "Buy bonds where you work or bank," so I began there. Fellow columnist Omar Bricks was only too happy to sell me the war bonds he happened to have. War bonds are easy to tell from fake bonds, he assured me, by the various colors they are written in. Each one is hand-stenciled in crayon. As the guarantee on the front ensures, they are good "till the shit comes tumblin' down."

Would you believe I could not re-sell any of these? Some even told me they were fake. I know that is not the case, but perhaps being from the foreign province of New Jersey Mr. Bricks' war bonds are not good here. So I simply took orders for them from various friends, neighborhood associates, and vaguely Mafioso types. Well, without getting into the fine details, what I was doing was not quite "bonding" and was actually referred to as "illegal betting" by the federal agents. They would not cover my bonds, even though I made it clear I expected America to win the war by April or I would not collect on my bond. The charges are still pending, I'm sure we can once again sort everything out without any jail time, my attorney Morrie is quite the mouthpiece.

With all else failing, I tried to assemble a Rok Finger calendar to sell to my fans, with all proceeds going to the war effort. I was thwarted, however, despite all my guarantees to the photographer they would only be semi-nude photos. Damn spineless photographers and their weak stomachs.

In the end, I decided my only real outlet was to go about my daily life. My regular business. Go to work, come home, use the bathroom as needed, spend time with my friends and family, neighborhood associates and vaguely Mafioso types. And spend like a monkey with winning lottery tickets. So I have. New S.U.V., board games by the dozens, a widescreen HDTV, and a new George Foreman grill. The soldiers in Aufvedersehn are doing their part the only way they know how; and here at home, we're doing ours.

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