[Vision2020] Irony Alert: the following is parodic in nature.
Joan Opyr
auntiestablishment@hotmail.com
Tue, 20 Jan 2004 15:47:52 -0800
Dear Visionaries:
I'm sorry to interrupt this speculation, but Elvis came to me in a dream and
told me that we can't go on together with suspicious minds. I am absolutely
certain that Edna Wilmington exists and that she's the intolerant,
theocratic old woman she so convincingly claims to be. Her friends, Betty
Boise and Peggy Seattle, have assured me that Edna's been marching against
equality, fairness, and middle-class tax relief since at least 1865. Her
husband, Dolittle Wilmington, emailed me a photograph of the family's home
library, and not only is it packed with the inspiring works of Thomas L.
Dixon, R. L. Dabney, and Andrew Dice Clay, it also features a 1.6 gallons
per flush low-flow toilet. Can you get more real than that?
Alas, Edna's politics have been rotten since infancy. Her mother, Virginia
T. Roanoke, kicked Rosa Parks out of her bus seat. Her father, Lester
Maddox Lester, supplied whites-only lunch counter patrons with pimento
cheese. When Martin Luther King said, "I have a dream," Edna was there
yelling, "Oh yeah? Well I don't!" When Marian Anderson sang at the Lincoln
Memorial, Edna blasted Axel Rose on her boom box. Just like sasquatch, the
Loch Ness monster, and compassionate conservatism, Edna is real. She's
hogging up your bandwidth. She's messing with your head. She's jumping in
front of you in line at the Wal-Mart.
Look, I don't want to scare you, but I'd better let you know what else Elvis
said. With his lip trembling, a tick in his eye, and a strangely dislocated
motion of his hip, the King told me, "Listen, Auntie, you'd better not pout.
You'd better not cry. You'd better watch out. Why? I'm telling you why.
Edna Wilmington is coming to town."
If she sees me when I'm sleeping, I am going to be all shook up,
Joan Opyr/Auntie Establishment
PS: Okay, I admit it. I've never met Edna . . . but I did hear a rumor that
she's offered to pay half a million dollars for the Heartbreak Hotel. You
know, the one down at the end of Lonely Street?
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