US House Deliberates on Building Devil’s Island Park for Retired Politicians
By Kelly O'Connell Sunday, November 7, 2010
There is no doubt the Obama was stymied in the Nov 2nd election as badly as Ms South Carolina during the Miss Teen USA contest, circa 2007. (Ironically, both were tripped up by Iraq, but here is how Barack would have answered). No one could deny November 2nd’s election results represent anything other than a stunning repudiation of all things Barack.
Obama dragged himself up to the podium like a man headed to the gallows. There, he admitted he “failed” to properly communicate (all the good he had done); adding he “must do better” (explaining his complex economics and cosmology to American dolts). Losing 6 senators and over 60 House members was an almost unparalleled blood-letting, and has a way of getting a man’s attention.
But the question remains: With so many Democrats idled after getting the ax, what shall we do with all these decommissioned politicians? One idea being discussed by the new House majority Republicans is recreating the famous French penal colony “Devil’s Island” for use as a retirement home for leftist American politicians. Further, we could employ the proceeds from a reality show based on the site, which might be sizable, to help pay down US debt. Not only this, but after the last American politicians are finally potted in the island’s cemetery, the facilities can be used as the ~new~ Guantanamo Bay for psychotic terrorists.
Just imagine what the lineup and dialogue from this show might resemble…
A. Devil’s Island: French Penal Colony
Devil’s Island, or Ile Du Diable, was a hell hole. Off the coast of the French colony of Guyana, on the upper right part of South America, this prison has a sensational history. It originally came to public attention during the anti-Semitic Dreyfus Affair. Then the movie Papillon (French for “Butterfly”) was filmed about it. Papillon was based upon a true story of an innocent man condemned to prison who kept trying to escape until he succeeded finally, from Devil’s Island.
Says one writer,
The rocky, palm-covered island is 40 meters (131 ft) high and is most famous for its former prison for political prisoners and for its brutality. First opened by Emperor Napoleon III, Devil’s Island would become one of the most famous prisons in history. Used by France from 1852 to 1946, its residents were everything from political prisoners (for example, anarchist Clement Duval) to the most hardened, of thieves and murderers. A great many of the more than 80,000 prisoners sent to the harsh conditions at disease-infested Devil’s Island were never seen again. Other than by boat, the only way out was through a dense jungle; accordingly, very few convicts ever managed to escape.
One attempted escapee is described here:
A soldier, stationed on the Maroni River, once heard a piteous screaming from the river after dark and went to investigate. About 25 feet from the bank he saw a convict struggling forward, with the water boiling beneath him. Fist-sized chunks of flesh were being torn from his arms, face and chest. The piranhas were skeletonizing the convict before the soldier’s eyes; in short order, the convict sank screaming into the dark brown water.
In other words, this site would be a perfect retirement home for old political race horses who have earned their oats, and then some. Remember, this is an Anglo-American tradition, as the British showed their appreciation to Napoleon by sending him to St Helena. So great past US leaders—especially ones bedazzled by socialism—should be granted a life of leisure away from North America where they can really relax.
This facility could quite easily be reconstructed from the Papillon book and movie details with a few amenities added, such as running water. Undoubtedly, these pasty liberals, so longed cooped up in DC would find life in the Atlantic very healthy, with much sun and fresh fruit daily.
B. Devil’s Island Redux: Home for Retired Leftist American Politicians
Cast: Harry “Dirtbag” Reid; Nancy “Plasticene” Pelosi; Barney “All Baloney” Frank; Alan “Taliban Al” Grayson; Barack “One-Term” Obama; Nancy “Call-me-Madame” Boxer; Joe “Loose Cannon” Biden; Michele “Unproud” Obama; Bill “Noses-are-Red” Clinton; Hillary “Steel-Belted-Pantsuit” Clinton; Kirsten “da Babe” Gillibrand, Al “Mr. Greenjeans” Gore; and John “Imperious” Kerry.
Consider the following hypothetical scenes which could quite easily be sold as reality TV. The show’s premise would be whomever is least popular gets voted off in each successive session. The ejected could then be sent to the mainland, perhaps even to Venezuela. Of course, it will have to be filmed after 2012 when Barack suddenly has much more free time.
(These scenes are shot in mid-July, at night, about 6 months after the last residents—Barack & Michelle—have been airlifted in. Everyone is still in shock at the acts of the newly minted “Tea Congress,” but they are trying to settle in and make the most of it.)
Scene 1
: Standing around the campfire at night; roasting roots. Various sized eyes sparkle in the dark, beyond the campfire’s light, peering hungrily towards the humans.
Nancy: “Hmmmm, seems kinda warm, even for July, doesn’t it?”
Harry: (Announcing in a nasal voice without a trace of emotion) “Ummmmmm, Nancy ‚Äì Your face, it’s on fire. Smells kinda like plastic.”
Nancy: “Oh, I thought that was somebody’s marshmallow!”
(Harry scoops sand, hurling it in Nancy’s face, which is dripping like melted cheese, to put out the flames.)
Nancy: “Ouch! I will be right back, I need to go to the little lady’s room.”
(Barney moves into the empty spot, stretching like an obese cabbie, driving a Prius, after pulling a 48-hour shift.)
Barney: “Thay, when ith that th-toopid Bush Dubba-yew coming here?”
Harry: (In his most pained and nasally voice) “For the ten-thousandth time, Barney, the Democrat party no longer exists. Who is supposed to send him?”
Barney: (Moving his disheveled, stained person closer, he grunts)“Harrumph! What thith plathe really needth is path-trami!” and “I mith my boyfriend tho much!”
Scene 2
(On the other side of the fire a spirited debate has erupted…)
Barbara: “Alan, if I’ve told you once, it’s a million times—I am SENATOR BOXER. You see, it’s just that I worked so hard for that title...”
Alan: “Babs, would you shut the **** up? You are no more of a senator than was Obama a president.”
Barack: “Ouch! And further, would you two stop quarreling? Do I need to unite another divided group? OK, OK, let me tell you a story that was related to me about Kenya when we lived in an Indonesian slum, about a German guy named Karl. But where’s my teleprompter? Hey!!!” (Discouraged, Barack slinks off to pout, muttering to himself about “racism” and “economic justice”...)
Alan: (Shouting after Barack as he leaves) “Hey B. Hussein, could ya practice making the oceans go down while the adults talk? Then maybe we could get off this ocean outhouse a lot sooner!”
Michelle: (Who doesn’t look like she’s slept for several days and babbles incessantly about “eating properly”) “Alan, would you like your eyes clawed out, your tongue squeezed with red hot pinchers and a sharpened banana tree limb driven through your racist skull while you sleep?”
Alan: “Uhhhhh…”
Scene 3
(Meanwhile, in some nearby bushes one can detect what sounds like a catfight inside of a wet burlap bag, with much screaming, hair pulling, slapping, and apparent choking—involving Bill, Hillary and the only single woman under 50 on the island, Kirsten. Finally, the dust clears…).
Bill: (Bill is holding Kirstin around her neck, who looks dazed and confused.) “She’s mine tonight!”
Hillary: “I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree…”
Bill: (Dragging the squirming semi-conscious Kirstin off to his palm frond hut. Hilary howls in protest.). “Can it, Rodham.”
Scene 4
Gore: (Al approaches the campfire with all the subtly of a senior ayatollah setting upon an illegal pork BBQ pit in Mecca during Ramadan) “I’ve told yew all that this fire is too smokey! Are yew trying to get us killed by the sun and tidal waves?” (The island’s residents studiously ignore him, uncomfortably shift and sigh.)
Joe: (Staring absently at Gore during his impassioned speech, Biden suddenly gives a start...) “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere? Hmmmm…”
Gore: “You old buzzard, you are suffering the affects of carbon monoxide pois-on-ing from this blasted fire. I warned you idiots!”
Joe: “Huh? What the…?” (Joe’s frown dissolves as he begins sleeping on his feet and suddenly lets out a loud snore.)
Gore: “OK, who’s turn is it to give me my rubdown so I can sleep, for once. Any volunteers?” (The campfire group suddenly begins to disperse.) “Hey, where is that Kirstin? I can never find her when I need her.”
Scene 5
(Kerry enters the scene carrying fresh coconuts and bananas, and passes a weary looking Michelle. He does not say hi.)
Michelle: Give Barack and I some of that fruit, John.
Kerry: No. My ancestors built and sailed the Mayflower. Back off. Get your own bananas.
Michelle: My people were forced to clean the Mayflower. I have never been proud to be an American. Give me my coconuts.
Kerry: Get lost, freeloader.
Michelle: My husband, the President, did something you never could pull off. Had you won, we would all be eating free fruit back in America.
Kerry: Damn.
Michelle: Hand the fruit over, Anglo imperialist.
Kerry: (swears inaudibly under his breath) OK, you can have some.
~The curtain falls on another day on the US Devil’s Island National Park for Retired Politicians, off of the Guyana coast, South America, and our heroes, as they bed down for the night under a heavy rain of mosquitos. ~
Please feel to suggest your own scenes to this burgeoning work-in-progress, sportsfans.
http://canadafreepress.com/index.php/article/29631
There is no doubt the Obama was stymied in the Nov 2nd election as badly as Ms South Carolina during the Miss Teen USA contest, circa 2007. (Ironically, both were tripped up by Iraq, but here is how Barack would have answered). No one could deny November 2nd’s election results represent anything other than a stunning repudiation of all things Barack.
Obama dragged himself up to the podium like a man headed to the gallows. There, he admitted he “failed” to properly communicate (all the good he had done); adding he “must do better” (explaining his complex economics and cosmology to American dolts). Losing 6 senators and over 60 House members was an almost unparalleled blood-letting, and has a way of getting a man’s attention.
But the question remains: With so many Democrats idled after getting the ax, what shall we do with all these decommissioned politicians? One idea being discussed by the new House majority Republicans is recreating the famous French penal colony “Devil’s Island” for use as a retirement home for leftist American politicians. Further, we could employ the proceeds from a reality show based on the site, which might be sizable, to help pay down US debt. Not only this, but after the last American politicians are finally potted in the island’s cemetery, the facilities can be used as the ~new~ Guantanamo Bay for psychotic terrorists.
Just imagine what the lineup and dialogue from this show might resemble…
A. Devil’s Island: French Penal Colony
Devil’s Island, or Ile Du Diable, was a hell hole. Off the coast of the French colony of Guyana, on the upper right part of South America, this prison has a sensational history. It originally came to public attention during the anti-Semitic Dreyfus Affair. Then the movie Papillon (French for “Butterfly”) was filmed about it. Papillon was based upon a true story of an innocent man condemned to prison who kept trying to escape until he succeeded finally, from Devil’s Island.
Says one writer,
The rocky, palm-covered island is 40 meters (131 ft) high and is most famous for its former prison for political prisoners and for its brutality. First opened by Emperor Napoleon III, Devil’s Island would become one of the most famous prisons in history. Used by France from 1852 to 1946, its residents were everything from political prisoners (for example, anarchist Clement Duval) to the most hardened, of thieves and murderers. A great many of the more than 80,000 prisoners sent to the harsh conditions at disease-infested Devil’s Island were never seen again. Other than by boat, the only way out was through a dense jungle; accordingly, very few convicts ever managed to escape.
One attempted escapee is described here:
A soldier, stationed on the Maroni River, once heard a piteous screaming from the river after dark and went to investigate. About 25 feet from the bank he saw a convict struggling forward, with the water boiling beneath him. Fist-sized chunks of flesh were being torn from his arms, face and chest. The piranhas were skeletonizing the convict before the soldier’s eyes; in short order, the convict sank screaming into the dark brown water.
In other words, this site would be a perfect retirement home for old political race horses who have earned their oats, and then some. Remember, this is an Anglo-American tradition, as the British showed their appreciation to Napoleon by sending him to St Helena. So great past US leaders—especially ones bedazzled by socialism—should be granted a life of leisure away from North America where they can really relax.
This facility could quite easily be reconstructed from the Papillon book and movie details with a few amenities added, such as running water. Undoubtedly, these pasty liberals, so longed cooped up in DC would find life in the Atlantic very healthy, with much sun and fresh fruit daily.
B. Devil’s Island Redux: Home for Retired Leftist American Politicians
Cast: Harry “Dirtbag” Reid; Nancy “Plasticene” Pelosi; Barney “All Baloney” Frank; Alan “Taliban Al” Grayson; Barack “One-Term” Obama; Nancy “Call-me-Madame” Boxer; Joe “Loose Cannon” Biden; Michele “Unproud” Obama; Bill “Noses-are-Red” Clinton; Hillary “Steel-Belted-Pantsuit” Clinton; Kirsten “da Babe” Gillibrand, Al “Mr. Greenjeans” Gore; and John “Imperious” Kerry.
Consider the following hypothetical scenes which could quite easily be sold as reality TV. The show’s premise would be whomever is least popular gets voted off in each successive session. The ejected could then be sent to the mainland, perhaps even to Venezuela. Of course, it will have to be filmed after 2012 when Barack suddenly has much more free time.
(These scenes are shot in mid-July, at night, about 6 months after the last residents—Barack & Michelle—have been airlifted in. Everyone is still in shock at the acts of the newly minted “Tea Congress,” but they are trying to settle in and make the most of it.)
Scene 1
: Standing around the campfire at night; roasting roots. Various sized eyes sparkle in the dark, beyond the campfire’s light, peering hungrily towards the humans.
Nancy: “Hmmmm, seems kinda warm, even for July, doesn’t it?”
Harry: (Announcing in a nasal voice without a trace of emotion) “Ummmmmm, Nancy ‚Äì Your face, it’s on fire. Smells kinda like plastic.”
Nancy: “Oh, I thought that was somebody’s marshmallow!”
(Harry scoops sand, hurling it in Nancy’s face, which is dripping like melted cheese, to put out the flames.)
Nancy: “Ouch! I will be right back, I need to go to the little lady’s room.”
(Barney moves into the empty spot, stretching like an obese cabbie, driving a Prius, after pulling a 48-hour shift.)
Barney: “Thay, when ith that th-toopid Bush Dubba-yew coming here?”
Harry: (In his most pained and nasally voice) “For the ten-thousandth time, Barney, the Democrat party no longer exists. Who is supposed to send him?”
Barney: (Moving his disheveled, stained person closer, he grunts)“Harrumph! What thith plathe really needth is path-trami!” and “I mith my boyfriend tho much!”
Scene 2
(On the other side of the fire a spirited debate has erupted…)
Barbara: “Alan, if I’ve told you once, it’s a million times—I am SENATOR BOXER. You see, it’s just that I worked so hard for that title...”
Alan: “Babs, would you shut the **** up? You are no more of a senator than was Obama a president.”
Barack: “Ouch! And further, would you two stop quarreling? Do I need to unite another divided group? OK, OK, let me tell you a story that was related to me about Kenya when we lived in an Indonesian slum, about a German guy named Karl. But where’s my teleprompter? Hey!!!” (Discouraged, Barack slinks off to pout, muttering to himself about “racism” and “economic justice”...)
Alan: (Shouting after Barack as he leaves) “Hey B. Hussein, could ya practice making the oceans go down while the adults talk? Then maybe we could get off this ocean outhouse a lot sooner!”
Michelle: (Who doesn’t look like she’s slept for several days and babbles incessantly about “eating properly”) “Alan, would you like your eyes clawed out, your tongue squeezed with red hot pinchers and a sharpened banana tree limb driven through your racist skull while you sleep?”
Alan: “Uhhhhh…”
Scene 3
(Meanwhile, in some nearby bushes one can detect what sounds like a catfight inside of a wet burlap bag, with much screaming, hair pulling, slapping, and apparent choking—involving Bill, Hillary and the only single woman under 50 on the island, Kirsten. Finally, the dust clears…).
Bill: (Bill is holding Kirstin around her neck, who looks dazed and confused.) “She’s mine tonight!”
Hillary: “I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree…”
Bill: (Dragging the squirming semi-conscious Kirstin off to his palm frond hut. Hilary howls in protest.). “Can it, Rodham.”
Scene 4
Gore: (Al approaches the campfire with all the subtly of a senior ayatollah setting upon an illegal pork BBQ pit in Mecca during Ramadan) “I’ve told yew all that this fire is too smokey! Are yew trying to get us killed by the sun and tidal waves?” (The island’s residents studiously ignore him, uncomfortably shift and sigh.)
Joe: (Staring absently at Gore during his impassioned speech, Biden suddenly gives a start...) “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere? Hmmmm…”
Gore: “You old buzzard, you are suffering the affects of carbon monoxide pois-on-ing from this blasted fire. I warned you idiots!”
Joe: “Huh? What the…?” (Joe’s frown dissolves as he begins sleeping on his feet and suddenly lets out a loud snore.)
Gore: “OK, who’s turn is it to give me my rubdown so I can sleep, for once. Any volunteers?” (The campfire group suddenly begins to disperse.) “Hey, where is that Kirstin? I can never find her when I need her.”
Scene 5
(Kerry enters the scene carrying fresh coconuts and bananas, and passes a weary looking Michelle. He does not say hi.)
Michelle: Give Barack and I some of that fruit, John.
Kerry: No. My ancestors built and sailed the Mayflower. Back off. Get your own bananas.
Michelle: My people were forced to clean the Mayflower. I have never been proud to be an American. Give me my coconuts.
Kerry: Get lost, freeloader.
Michelle: My husband, the President, did something you never could pull off. Had you won, we would all be eating free fruit back in America.
Kerry: Damn.
Michelle: Hand the fruit over, Anglo imperialist.
Kerry: (swears inaudibly under his breath) OK, you can have some.
~The curtain falls on another day on the US Devil’s Island National Park for Retired Politicians, off of the Guyana coast, South America, and our heroes, as they bed down for the night under a heavy rain of mosquitos. ~
Please feel to suggest your own scenes to this burgeoning work-in-progress, sportsfans.
http://canadafreepress.com/index.php/article/29631
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