The Peace Moonbeam Chronicles

Sunshine

October 27, 2006

Berkeley, California

Well, it's looking like Squid's not coming back from North Korea in the foreseeable future so this week I've been interviewing assistants. While there have been a few semi-decent prospects, for the most part I've been subject to an endless parade of clueless morons, punctuated by the occasional ignorant pinhead - I guess the excesses of the 60s and 70s weren't kind to many of my generation. I can't help but think that conservatives don't have this much difficulty finding reliable help, but I may be wrong.

I limited my search mainly to socially-oppressed types - gays, lesbians, transgendered, minorities, etc. Thankfully Berkeley has lots of these people, but for some reason many of them were kind of difficult to deal with. For example, most of the gays, lesbians, and transgendered people I talked to expected me to also give their boyfriend/girlfriend/transgenderedfriend full benefits or would feel discriminated against. The several minorities that I've interviewed were fairly nice but seemed to resent the fact that they would be working for a white woman and alluded to the possibility they would sue the crap out of me if they perceived I was not respecting their cultural heritage. Also they stole some ashtrays and stuff, which didn't sit well with me at all.

In the end, I was most impressed with my old friend Sunshine, an extremely sturdy, transgendered child of the 60s like myself (except for the transgendered part). Sunshine's affiliations include: National Federation of Democratic Women, PETA, Code Pink, Green Party, ACLU, Rainbow/Push Coalition, NAACP, Amnesty International, Communist Party of the United States, National Education Association (NEA), Greenpeace, Sierra Club, Common Cause, National Abortion and Reproductive Rights Action League (NARAL), Planned Parenthood, and National Organization of Women. Plus she can tune a car and fix a toilet.

I've known Sunshine ever since she was Ernie Finkelstein. I met Ernie at UC Berkeley in the early 70s and was immediately impressed by his social sensitivities and superior decorating skills. We spent many a night doing bong hits, discussing liberal philosophies and makeup tips while he braided my hair. When he bravely took the step to finally become Sunshine, I was there to lend comfort, support, and my underwear. I treasured the symbolic gift of his castoff "winky" he gave me after his final operation. I kept it in a box for many years until Scooter found it and ate it one night thinking it was a date.

I think Sunshine will make a perfect assistant and bring something new to my efforts to promote foreword-thinking ideals while defeating the paralyzing conservatism that's crippled our country. The fact that she can add a porch to my house is just icing on the cake. You go, gir...transgendered person!

DPRK: A Worker's Paradise

Dear Readers,

I thought I would share the following letter I received from Squid who is now living in North Korea and calling himself "Jimmy Jong-il:"

October 14, 2006

Democratic Peoples Republic Of Korea (DPRK)

Dear Imperialist Lackey Moonbeam,

I just wanted to send this letter to tell you I'm well. Actually not just well, but flourishing in this worker's paradise! The progressiveness our Dear Leader Kim Jong-il has brought to this utopia is simply awe-inspiring. It's everything we have worked toward in the U.S. but have failed to accomplish.

In this country there are no divisions between people as there are no social classes, just one and equality for all. We even all wear the same clothes (although Dear Leader and I have more than one set and ours are not woven from cadaver pubic hair). The standard of living here is far better than I had been told. My palace is absolutely beautiful with large, comfortably decorated rooms and a swimming pool to die for. Your place is a dung heap compared to this and Dear Leader's crib makes mine look like a rat-hole! Sure, there are some marginal shelters/cardboard boxes around here but even in your bourgeois nation there are people who don't care about fixing up their houses. Laziness is truly worldwide and I have to admit there is an incredible amount here, but one can't force people to take pride in their shelters/holes/etc. if they don't want to.

Contrary to the lies fed to you by your government about food shortages in the DPRK, if anything, there is too much food here! My own Sub-Zero refrigerators have so much stuff in them, I can barely close the doors! And I'm not talking about Hot Pockets and junk like that, I'm talking lobster (really big ones!), crab, fillets, fresh fruit, etc. I'm even toying with the idea of binge/purging so I can eat more food and not get full. I think a lot of people resort to this here as I never see fat people, or even slender people, just really, really thin and somewhat athletic-looking people. Dear Leader says this is also due to his patented compulsory exercise program in the weapons factories. I guess Dear Leader and myself should join them as frankly we're getting more than a little pudgy! Maybe the bulimia thing will help me.

By now you've heard of the glorious achievement in our struggle against our enemies. I myself pushed the button that set off the powerful "People's Bomb Jong-il Boom-O-Matic Round-Eye Eliminator(TM)" nuclear device. No doubt Bush and his allies are wetting themselves with this mighty display of destructive DPRK superiority! You know, Kim Jong-il designed this bomb on a cocktail napkin at lunch the other day. Are there any limits to his talents? The answer is no! Anyone who can invent the game of golf one minute and a nuclear device the next is blessed with intelligence not of this world. We love him.

Anyway, Dear Leader has promised me a pony and I think I'll stick around for awhile till it comes. As for my stuff, you can have my stereo but I'd appreciate it if you could send my bong collection, some seeds, and a fork.

Best Regards,

"Dear Cousin" Jimmy Jong-il

Jimmy Jong-il

October 13, 2006

Berkeley, California / DPRK

Surely everyone knows what went down this week with the North Koreans threatening to test a nuclear device, as well as the patience of the rest of the world. Kim Jong-il has been saber-rattling for years but this new development forced me to take whatever personal action I could to divert this nuclear threat.

I asked my new assistant Squid to come up with a plan and the result of his efforts was genius and daring: Drawing upon his Asian looks, college acting experience, and a distant relative in South Korea with North Korean connections, Squid would present himself as Kim Jong-il's estranged distant cousin, and after gaining his trust would use his powers of persuasion to get Kim to turn away from nukes in favor of dialog with the rest of the world. With our current pathetic administration unwilling to even talk directly to Kim, this inside track, while a long shot, seemed to be our best hope of effecting change in a non-violent manner.

After an afternoon of in-depth study of North Korea and its leader, Squid was off to South Korea where he would travel by land to the Democratic People's Republic Of Korea (DPRK). Through his connections, Squid had been able to get word to Kim's administration that he was a distant relative of the Dear Leader, had just been released from prison in South Korea, and was returning to his North Korean homeland, a place he had been taken from as a child. Evidently Kim went for it and reportedly had people expecting "Jimmy Jong-il" as Squid was calling himself, at the border crossing.

Long story short, Squid was able to get through the checkpoint and was met by the "Dear Leader" himself! After much hugging, crying (Squid can act with the best of them), and gift exchanging (Kim gave Squid a city, I think), Kim and Jimmy Jong-il were driven away in a limousine surrounded by troops. Wow, it worked! Within a day there were giant posters of Squid hanging in downtown Pyongyang with the inscription, "Dear Cousin," and he was seen accompanying Kim at several important functions. Squid's plan to appear to be mute as a result of torture received at the hands of the imperialist enemy made it easy for him to conceal his inability to speak Korean, and his resemblance to the little toad Kim seemed to leave little doubt that he was a family member.

Unfortunately things didn't work out as I had hoped. Within a few days, international news reports showed Squid using angry gestures and crude drawings to convey a threat of nuclear annihilation against the United States. Other news stories showed him and Kim Jong-il meeting with scientists working on the nuclear weapons program, reviewing troops, and playing tennis. I assumed this was an act until reports came out of North Korea that Squid was living in a mansion with about a dozen beautiful women, and torturing "enemies of the state" for amusement. Oh crap.

In spite of the world's best efforts, not to mention my own, the nuclear test was carried out, and what's worse I understand Kim gave Jimmy Jong-il the honor of pushing the button that set the damn thing off. That's just ducky. I'm telling you right now, Squid has got a lot of explaining to do when he gets home.

GOP (Gay Old Party?)

October 5, 2006

Washington D.C.

Oh man, the Republicans have caught fire and are spiraling to earth in a cloud of smoke and desperation. Good. Congressman Mark Foley, honorable pervert representing the great state of horniness, was caught sending nasty instant messages to a minor male page. It seems that this member of the Moral Majority was actually a flaming homo, hell-bent on perverted hot monkey sex with as many males as possible, especially young ones. Disgusting. It's hard to believe this party keeps trying to quash gay marriage when they're all gay themselves. What sense does this make?

I'm starting to think all Republicans are masochists. Every time one of these bozos gets drunk or exposed as gay, they're shamed into the next century, but when a liberal does the same thing, it's good for certain re-election and major street cred with their voting bloc. Why would any politician want to be labeled as a conservative? Do you really want to go through your life without having illicit sex with young girls and boys, not getting drunk and/or stoned, lying about your war record, or drowning people in your car? Of course not. At least pick a party that will reward you for your behavior.

Anyway, this cataclysmic news event apparently triggered an outpouring of repressed memories from my new assistant, Squid. Amid uncontrollable sobbing about feeling "used and dirty," he produced some transcripts he had just typed of an instant message chat he had several years ago. When I saw the initials of whom he was communicating with, I almost blew chunks! An excerpt:

GWB: wuz happenen :}>

Squidboy: Nuttin.

GWB: how old are you?

Squidboy: 16.

GWB: can I molest you

Squidboy: I'm not that kind of boy, loser.

GWB: I want you so bad

Squidboy: Bite me, perv.

GWB: thats my strategery

My goodness! I couldn't help but feel Squid's pain as I read the damning evidence of homo passions possibly running amok at the highest levels of this administration. No wonder Squid has always seemed a little traumatized, he'd apparently been almost sexually abused by the leader of the most powerful country in the world, or at least someone with the same initials. Of course, Squid couldn't remember if those were the exact initials, but he is sure there was a "W" in there somewhere, and this was all the proof I needed that the neocons have pretty much all gone "light in the loafers." Shocking!

Alas, as publicly happy as we libs are about the Republicans offending their constituents, behind the scenes we're disgusted by their creep into the homo/pedophile/deviant fabric of society. We've worked too hard to establish ourselves in these areas and won't concede them (and the accompanying votes) to the GOP. If they want to do these things, let them become Democrats.

Note to my faithful readers: Immediately after writing the above, I checked myself into an undisclosed rehab center for treatment of various dependencies and personal problems. It goes without saying I'm clearly not responsible for this story.

EXTRA: By popular demand, here's an example of Squid's beautiful poetry:

"Fall"

by Squid

Morning light filtering through

bark-covered tree branches covered with dew.

Squirrels running to and fro,

like they have no idea where to go.

They scamper in and out of their homey huts

tightly clinging to their little nuts.

Now the last flowers of summer fade,

like they have been sprayed with a can of Raid.

Oh fall, your winds are frosty and cold,

sometimes making my nipples bold.

We gayfully celebrate this time of year

as we anticipate chugging Octoberfest beer.