Fahrenheit 451 + 10 (My Parody from 2012)

 

(On MS NOW today, Ali Velshi explained that Tennessee has incredibly sought to ban Fahrenheit 451 from school bookshelves throughout the state.

Wow.

In honor of that groundbreaking book, here's Fahrenheit 451 + 10, my parody from 2012.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Montag was alone, sitting by a brook on the outskirts of the settlement. 

Sure, he was helping to keep knowledge alive in the dark times by memorizing and becoming a book. But after these ten odd years, a dark sadness had descended upon him, sapping his spirit and diminishing his soul. 

A tall man with a ruddy complexion and piercing eyes approached him. 

"Hello, my friend.  Why are you so morose?"

"Oh, hullo,  Great Expectations.  I'm kind of bummed out because I'm just not getting anywhere with the ladies.  You ever have any problems like that?" 

"Me?  No,  not at all,"  said the tall man.  "I'm Great Expectations.   I intrigue the hell out of women!   Y'know, I've been diddling Madame Bovary for the past three months!"

"Well, it's sure different for me.  Ever since I joined the Book People and selected a book to become, women don't take me seriously. Hell, they treat me like a child!  

"Well, what do you think the problem is, Goodnight Moon?  

"The problem is I can't compete with the more macho books!  Last night I went to a single's bar with Captains Courageous and Last of the Mohicans.  We ran into two chicks,  Anna Karenina and Tess of the d'Urbervilles."

"And?" 

"Right away Captains Courageous pairs off with Anna Karenina and hasn't been home since. I spent the whole evening playing Ms. Pac Man while watching Tess of the d'Urbervilles  grind into Last of the Mohicans on the dance floor!" 

"Well,  maybe some woman will admire you for your warm sentimental values as opposed to manliness."

"That only goes so far, Great Expectations.  Can you imagine: 

 Ride me, Goodnight Moon! 

 Give it to me, Goodnight Moon! 

It just doesn't work."

"I just had a thought, Goodnight Moon.   A new woman recently joined the group;  name's  Dr. Zhivago.  She looks a bit like a young Julie Christie." 

"I've seen her!  That Dr. Zhivago's hot as hell!"

"Well, I'll introduce you.  Straighten yourself up,  clean up your punctuation, and remember to stay in proper tense at all times."

"Okay, okay!  Y'know, if all goes well, Great Expectations,  one day Dr. Zhivago might become Mrs. Dr. Zhivago Goodnight Moon!" 

"Let's not rush things, Goodnight Moon.   But should you happen to get lucky,  do me one favor?"  

"What's that, Great Expectations?"

"For God's sakes, don't shout out:

Goodnight, Mus-s-s-s-h-h-H-H-H!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perry's Odyssey or My Quest to Find Penny from Ithaca

 

Matt Damon Ain't Got Nothin' On Me!

There's an upcoming movie about the Odyssey directed by Christopher Nolan and starring Matt Damon which seems like a must see.

But I had kind of an Odyssey myself last week. Please allow me to home in on it and relate my epic journey to you.

I was at my friend Jeff’s meetup in a neighborhood bar when I saw Penny at the other end of a long bar. She's so pretty and so smart; I think she was an English Lit major at Cornell University. You know, in Ithaca New York.

If only I could make it over to her! 

But in my way was Pauly Phoebus,  a loud-mouthed jerk with an eye patch that was probably affectation.

"Norman," he bellowed, pounding me on the back like he was doing the Heimlich Maneuver, "how's your comedy going? Hey, tell me a joke!"

For some reason, the guy thinks my name is Norman, but  whaddya gonna do?

"I'd say I'm aging well," I replied through extremely clenched teeth, "were it not for one thing. The invention of cameras."

"Ho, ho, ho ,ha, ha, hah" he  laughed hysterically. 

"Norman is killing me!"  

I made my escape from Pauly Phoebus and saw Cerise sitting at the bar surrounded on either side by a couple of guys. She's still quite alluring and both guys were falling all over themselves to get her attention. 

One  guy was so nervous he spilled his drink on her dress and the other guy knocked over a plate of chicken wings and barbecue sauce was everywhere!

This kind of thing happens a lot.

Men are often turned to pigs under Cerise’s spell!  

I journeyed on but bumped into Lottie who always has the best edibles in the tri-state area, and before I could protest she shoved an edible right down my  throat. 

It was so potent I was instantly transported back to the Sixties where my cares were ephemeral, no one ever Bogarted a single joint, and I practically forgot my own name.

OMG!

Lottie’s Eating had almost made me forget about my quest to reach Penny!

The edible’s effect banished, I was ever more determined to complete my epic journey to reach Penny from Ithaca. Now she was only about 15 feet away, hardly across the Aegean, so near but yet so far.

But as I set off  again …  oh no!  … There was Sylvia and Clarissa standing across from each other and I had to thread my way through.

Sylvia always waves her arms wildly and crazily as she talks, creating such a swirling vortex you feel like you could be sucked down under to Hades, and Clarissa is so mercurial you’re wondering “who or what are you this time, Clarissa?” as if she has as many heads as Hydra.

It can be a Herculean effort to pass between Sylvia and Clarissa!

But I made it. I know many others have not.

And there at last was Penny.  But surrounded by three ardent suitors.

Maybe I could slay the suitors with humor, so to speak, and then win her over.

“Excuse me, Penny, I’m …”

“I know who you are, Pauley Phoebus said you’re a comic.”

“That’s right, you see I write a …”

“I’m sorry I’m not in the mood for silly jokes. We’re having  a serious discussion about Greek Mythology.”

“Yes, but I’ve also read…

“The four of us are off to a poetry reading by the great J.B. Hogan, you wouldn’t be interested.  So long, Norman!

And Penny and her suitors were off.

They had slain me.

My epic quest had come to an inglorious end. The Gods had not smiled on me.

They did something more graphic on me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, I hope you enjoyed this little Homeric tale, dear reader.

That is, if you are even out there.

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Why Max Goodkin Got His Own Park Bench

 

. 

About a week ago I sat down on a park bench in a neighborhood park and noticed a plaque on the front of it that said "In Memory of  Max Goodkin."

I wondered what marvelous things Max Goodkin had done to deserve such an honor.

And suddenly out of nowhere a wraithlike figure appeared before me.  He looked sort of like an old Jewish man, somewhat bald and with an aquiline nose. 

I guess no one gets them done in the afterlife.

"Who or what are you?" I said, trembling. 

"I am the Spirit of Max Goodkin," it intoned. "You have summoned me with your inquiries."

"Well, I didn't exactly summon. I mused, but that's not the same as summoning."

"Are you gonna quibble about semantics after I took the trouble to get here? Celestial roadways are worse than your Schuylkill Expressway!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Goodkin. Why have you come?"

"I've come to answer your questions as  to why this Park Bench was dedicated in my honor."

"Yes, please tell me," I said. 

He stood fully erect and pronounced "I am the inventor of Park Benches."

"Didn’t we always have them?"

"Not before 1958. Before that everyone squatted on the ground. Uncomfortable to say the least and carpenter ants often climbed up their privates.”

“So what you’re saying is ...”

"Yes, I invented sitting outdoors."

"Wow, tell me about it."

"We've had chairs but they were only for sitting around indoors, eating dinner, playing cards, and arguing over your husband leaving the toilet seat up.  It took years of painstaking work to develop the Park Bench; the early prototypes required everyone to stand on their heads”

“I see.”

“My wife left me.  My kids left me.  Even the dog left me.  But I was determined.”

“And?”

“The final invention was a smash hit. For a while everything was great. Money poured in; I was on the Merv Griffin Show. I even dated Elizabeth Taylor.”

“So why do we not know of you?”

“Before my passing, I sold all rights to the Park Bench to the very young Jeff Bezos.”

"Oh, no!"

“He used the riches he made to finance his empire while I, Max Goodkin, am forgotten. I died penniless, not that pennies are worth much anymore.”

“Well, at least you have this Park Bench, but I guess that's all that's left of your legacy.”

“Don’t feel bad for me. “

“Why?”

“I’m dating Liz Taylor again in the  afterlife.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Prosopagnosia: Face Blindness. I Can't Pronounce It But I Have It.

                                         

Prosopagnosia.

I have a medical condition called Prosopagnosia.  Before you offer me your deepest thoughts and prayers or go off to start  a GoFundMe Page, it's not such a terrible thing.

I'm Face Blind.  I am often unable to recognize the faces of people I may know, especially when I see them out of context. 

I never knew Face Blindness was a thing until someone I'd known for years once failed to recognize me in the supermarket such that I wondered "Does he think he owes me money such that he's cold shouldering me?" 

"It's me, Perry Block," I said, "and you don't owe me bupkis!"

"I'm sorry, Perry," he replied. "You see, I'm Face Blind. I never forget to never forget a face!

I'm still trying to map out that sentence.

But then I realized I'm a little Face Blind too. Unless someone has very distinguishable features I may easily run into a person in the gym I've hung out with in a night school class I've taken for the past six weeks and not know who they are. 

Fortunately I can solve that problem by never going to the gym or taking any more night school classes. 

`But I never quite realized how bad my Face Blindness had become until last week when I ran into a woman on the street who greeted me warmly.

"Hi ya, Perry!" she said. "Gee, it's been a while since I've seen you."

"Oh shit!" I thought,  I  knew she looked familiar but I couldn't quite place her. What to do, what to do?  I racked my brain.  Finally I just had to say:

"It is good to see you after all this time, but I'm afraid I'm drawing a blank.  How do I know you?" 

"Perry,"  she said softly, "it's Gwen. We were married for 7 years."

"Yes, we were!  Of course!  And it was a great 7 years!"

"Yeah, it was.  Except for those days when you would come home after work, come to the door, and say "Who the fuck are you?!!"

Yep.

Face blindness. 

Maybe a GoFundMe page wouldn't be a bad idea?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                             

I've posted this picture because it shows how Face Blindness works. Also because for those who've never met me, I do look exactly like Brad Pitt. 

How Bruno Block Is Taking Care of Me

 

Yes, I was back in Brooklyn last week hanging with Bruno Block, my son Brian's rescue Lab/Border Collie, while Brian was traveling on business.

Someone said to me "Oh, so you were taking care of Bruno."

No, not true. He was taking care of me.

It's way better walking with Bruno on the streets in Brooklyn than walking with him in my native Havertown. In Havertown he may bump into a random dog or two, but they're jaded suburbanite dogs, the kind who probably sit around with their people watching "American Pickers."

But here in Brooklyn, it's a Butt-a-Palooza for Bruno! Around every corner are willing and diverse four-legged participants of every shape, size, breed, and personal proclivities.

And it's amazing how an entire canine relationship can take place between Bruno and another dog in 15-20 seconds of concerted sniffing. I watched Bruno in action with a cocker spaniel named Cocoa last Wednesday

• First sniff was to make initial contact. "Hello, nice to meet you, Cocoa. Shall we have coffee?"

• Second sniff was the coffee and converation. "I'm not from here, I'm from Philly. Go Birds! Are you Jewish, Cocoa? You're not a Trumper, are you?"

• Third sniff. The Relationship! "I really like you, Cocoa. Think we might try living together? What books, art, music do you like? Do you prefer Fresh Pet or The Farmer's Dog? Do you want to doggie do it? (Figuratively, if not literallly.)

• Fourth sniff are the invariable speed bumps, the snags, the irreconciable differences. "What, are you crazy?! The Farmers' Dog is way Better than Fresh Pet! Go ahead, go back to Second Avenue, see if I care!"

• Fifth sniff is the breakup. "It's been swell, Cocoa, but Perry is tugging on my leash. And your person is a hot young blonde woman who has absolutely zero interest in Perry such as to want to linger here even one moment longer!

That's it. Bittersweet but amicable.

So what's in all this for me?

Human life isn't like doggie life. Meeting someone special is hard, relationships are hard, and quite frankly at 75 years old I'm not expecting Scarlett Johansson to walk through the front door.

I have kept it open for her though.

So I'm happy for Bruno that even if he has indeed loved and lost, he will love again.

Maybe even in the next minute or two.

And that makes me feel kinda good.

And that's how Bruno is taking care of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BTW, I've seen this sign before right outside Brian's building.

"You matter to Jesus."

Of course you do. How could the World's Number One Jew resist playing Jewish geography in New York City?

My Animal Rights Manifesto or What If AI Begins Eating Us?

 

Many people don’t know it, but I’m an animal rights person.

I’m not a vegan, but I won't eat pork or lamb because we kick the living shit out of those animals. And they're very smart. 

 Any random pig is smarter than any Republican.  Documented fact.

I believe God - blessed be they, if they even exist - really messed up when it  came to creating the food chain such that every higher species on the chain eats the species that's lower.  Yes, people are fortunate so far to be at the top of the chain.  

But AI is now superior to people. What happens when AI begins eating us?

"You are the most delicious human of all!" it will crow, as is its wont. "Your esophagus is a rare delicacy! If you would like, I can rhapsosize in more detail the wonderful taste of your large intestine!"

That's what it must be like for most factory farmed animals.  Is there any solution?

"Here at Sterling Foods we're pleased to provide you with a unique and very special range of meat, chicken, and seafood products, all of which are sourced  from animals CERTIFIED to have died of natural causes."

Take for example this package of chicken.  Here's our certification:

'This is Clucky.  Clucky  passed away at age seventeen, which corresponds to  age 87 in human years. He passed on peacefully, surrounded by friends and family and a much hotter girlfriend—chicken style—than you probably ever had.' 

And here at Sterling Foods, we also serve food sourced from animals who, sadly, have passed away from suicide or drug overdoses. 

If only Sterling Foods existed.  But as I said, I'm not a vegan and I do, for example, eat chicken.

"Don't you think chickens have feelings?" a vegan once upbraided me.

I do, of course. 

But maybe, just maybe, many chickens are anti-Semites?

Certainly not Clucky though!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't think she even likes me. But she LOVES outfitting me!

 

"I just saw this, Perry, and it's perfect for you!"

It  was a Saturday afternoon and I was lamely trying to come up with my latest humor post when the phone rang.

"Perry, this is Sandra. I just saw some tops at Nordstrom's that are perfect for you and I'd like to bring them over."

"Gee, that's swell, Sandra," I said, "but I'm kinda busy right now and ..."

"'Great, I'll be right over!  I think you'll love them!"

There's only one problem with this situation.  Sandra isn't my girlfriend. In fact, she broke up with me several years ago.

I don't think she even likes me.  But she loves outfitting me!

There came that familiar knock at the door. You know that rhymthic knock, knock <beat> knock, knock, knock that people execute when they have something with you or perceive they have  something with you.

"Here you go, Perry, try these on," Sandra chirped brightly. "I got them for you in navy blue, powder blue, dark gray, light gray, medium gray, and a few other random colors in between."

"Sandra, umm ... I think this has got to stop," I said. "We're not dating and yet you insist on buying me clothes."

"It's my passion, Perry, and you know I always offer to chip in on them. Look, because you're so slim you look great in so many things."

"If that's true, Sandra, why did you describe me as scrawny back in the day when you dumped me? "

"Maybe you've put on weight," she said, for sure knowing it wasn't true.  "Didn't you like the slacks I bought you last month? I see you don't have them on; please, please. please for once can I see you out of  those omnipresent jeans?"

"Sandra, shouldn't you have an actual boyfriend to be buying clothes for?"

"Oh, there's nobody out there.  Say, could you use socks? And how about some new underwear in a variety of colors?"

"Umm, Sandra."

"Yes, Perry?"

"I think you should stop buying me stuff."

"Oh, BTW, l saw a great puffer jacket that to me fairly well screamed Perry!"

"Well, uhh, I guess I could use a new winter jacket."

"Great, I'll pick it up tomorrow! You busy tomorrow afternoon to try it on?"

Turns out I wasn't gonna be busy.  Would it kill me to try it on?

No, I don't think Sandra even likes me.  But she loves outfitting me!

And, y'know, beats having to shop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this post  you might also like The Story About Cupid on Page One.

If you hated this post, I hope Sandra starts buying you clothes and doesn't offer to pay for a damn thing!

All My Friends Who Aren't Real But I Love Them Anyway

                                                 

                                             

        At least I know he's real.  I think.

It's been about a year since I decided to ressurrect my long dormant blog  and I'd like to reflect upon the exciting adventures I've had in that regard over the past year. 

There are none.

But I did want to stop and take stock of some personal writerly things over the year, which means this post is solely for my benefit and I'd bale on reading it if I were you. 

Imagine me telling folks not to read my stuff!  That's something that's hardly ever been necessary in the past.

The past year featured the return of some old friends:

The Legendary Jewish Vampire Vlad the Retailer. Thanks to AI we could finally depict him, as previously he just looked like warmed over Bela Lugosi.  Now that we can see him: Funny, he doesn't look Jewish!  

Rabbi Debbie King, the Progenitor of  "Hello Yahweh,"  the newest branch of liberal Judaism based loosely on characters from Seinfeld.  Eat Your Heart Out, Orthodox Judaism!

Professor Kropotkin and his Protege Maya Majoun, among whose many scientific achievements are the discovery of the fabled Book of Norman and the factoid that snowflakes may possess evil twins. 

Don't ask.

My Muse.  Yes he sleeps late, eats and drinks me out of house and home, and supplies me with lousy ideas like what if we have Ginger and MaryAnn mud wrestle. But I can't fire him because he's union.

Cupid, who's resigned as a Greek God becaiuse he could no longer  handle the incessant lawsuits from disgruntled lovers for whom his arrows just plain screwed everything up and who approaches me about writing his memoirs. Why me? Because I'm cheap and he's flat broke. 

Batman.  Yep, that Batman.  I know him, not to brag.  But I can't for the life of me figure out his secret identity.

So don't ask about that either.

And of course, for a time, I controlled the media.

Add to that a few newer friends like:

Julie, My Favorite Barista, who will be leaving me and my favorite coffee shop behind to become a lawyer but not before I teach her never to wish me or anybody else to "Have a Great Day" because nobody ever has a great day!

  

My Bathroom Mirror Bob, who does his best to bolster my confidence about my looks.  In other words. he lies his ass off, if only he had an ass.

Michael the Trump-Loving Stump. If only God can make a tree, we better kick God off tree-creating duty and take it over ourselves.  (We can't do worse, to coin a phrase of mine.) 

Hey, I've missed them all and I'm glad they're back. Or here for the first time. 

But the oddest thing is the person I've really missed the most is the fictionalized me. He's a hot mess for sure,  but the real me is an even hotter mess and a lot less interesting.

Hell, I'm kinda looking forward to growing old with him. That is, growing older with him who is me anyway so we're growing older together. 

And maybe one of these days one of us actually will have a great day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They Say No Two Snowflakes Are Ever Alike. Unless One Is An Evil Twin!

                                                 

       

"Professor I'm here," called Maya Majoun.  "I came as soon as you called."

"Oh, Maya, I'm on to something big here," said Professor Kropotkin "and I wanted you to be the first to know."

Professor Kropotkin, eminent archaelogist and now expert medical researcher, was sitting in his laboratrory peering thoughtfully into his microsope. Maya Majoun, once his young protege and now Adjunct Professor of Archeology at nearby Block University, entered the lab.

"Maya, I have now disproved an old adage."

"Which is?"

"That no two snowflakes are ever alike! Take a look at these two through the microscope."

"OMG! They look almost exactly alike! Except the one on the left looks like it has some strange formation at the top."

"Yes, that because the one on the left is an evil double!  A doppleganger."

"Professor, that exists even in the snowflake world?"

"Yes, Maya, it does. And left unchecked the evil snowflake will take over life of the good snowflake."

"But, Professor, it's just a  snowflake. What can it possibly do to the good snowflake?"

"Why, it can steal the good snowflake's life savings and have sex with the good snowflake's wife."

"But does a snowflake have a wife and money?"

"Well, I'm just surmising.  That's left to be discovered."

"Professor, in the time we worked together I know you to be a brilliant man.  But how do you know this is the evil doppleganger?"

"Take another look through the microscope, Maya."

"OMG! Professor! It's wearing a black hat!"

" Yes, Maya, and that means there's only one thing left to do!"

 "What, Professor Kropotkin?"

"Melt the mother-fucker!"

I defy you to tell the difference!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Visit With Michael, The Wise Old Soul Living In The Tree

 

                                

I was walking in my usually boring neighborhood of Havertown PA with my son's dog Bruno a week or so back when I came upon what looked like a wise old soul living at the base of a tree.

Do you see him too? He has a very broad mouth with a half-smile, his right eye bigger than the left and perhaps covered with an eye patch, and two outstretched arms almost entreating you to stop by and visit.

C'mon, dudes!  Where's your suspension of disbelief?

"Hello, kind sir,"I offered to the man in the tree. "Care for a visit from a friend?  I'm Perry."

"Of course I would," the man in the tree replied in a crusty but aimable voice that bespoke volumes. "My name is Michael." 

"Michael," I said, delighted that he did indeed speak as I'd hoped he would. "I bet you've seen a great deal over the years and you know much that you can impart to me and others."

"That's true, Perry. And I am indeed pleased to share with you the most important thing I've learned over hundreds of years of observation and study."

"Tell me, tell me!" I exclaimed exciteedly. "I want to learn from your wisdom. What ... what can you teach me?"

"The most important thing to know about life, Perry,"  Michael slowly intoned "is ..."

"Yes, yes, yes, Michael???"

"That Donald Trump is the greatest president in the history of our nation!"

"Excuse me?

"Every nation needs a brave, noble, and wise leader.  And we are blessed to have that leader, Donald J. Trump - a genius - a brilliant man motivated only by his love of country and humanity." 

"Are you sure this is the most important thing you have to tell us?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, thanks ... umm ... gotta go.  Bruno has an ... uh ... appointment with his parole officer."

"And that blondie Karoline Leavitt is quite a fox too!"

"I guess you would like someone who's wooden," I thought.

"Bruno," I whispered, "before we go, if you could ... pee on him?"

"Oooh, wet!" exclaimed Michael.

"Bye, Michael," I said. "Don't get up."

I walked several blocks and came upon a group of people who were pruning trees in the area with a nearby truck labeled "Matthew Domer, Arborist."

I went up to one of them and said "Excuse me, but a few blocks away on Hawthorne Street is an old tree with a trunk that reesembles a wisened elfin old man."

"Yes?"

"Woodman, don't spare that tree!''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perry's Liberal Ideological Purity Test

 

Take a deep breath. Ready? Begin!

1) How far to the left are you?

a) Center Left.

b) Left Leaning.

c) Way Left, Dudes!

d) Me and Bernie Sanders are practically engaged.

 

2) Do you watch CBS?

a) Yes, because I’m an aging Boomer and I do like Elspeth and Matlock.

b) Yes, but only to hate watch Tony Dokoupil.

c) Yes, because after all, it is the network of Walter Cronkite, Mr. Ed, and Lassie!

d) No way! I’m only watching Colbert and when he’s gone, I’m gone!

 

3) What is your opinion of Jon Voight?

a) Well, the dude hasn’t aged well, that’s for sure.

b) I still like some of the older movies like Deliverance and Midnight Cowboy when he was young and good looking and not such a right-wing yutz.

c) Well, he is Angelina Jolie’s dad after all.

d) Special Envoy to Hollywood, my ass!

4) What would you like to do to Pete Hegseth?

a) I’d like to punch him in the nose.

b) I’d like to kick him in the nuts.

c) I’d like to punch him in the nose and kick him in the nuts.

d) I’d like to hide his tube of hair grease.

5) What is a proper and appropriate use for 200 billion dollars?

a) To help defray some of my therapy bills.

b) To finance the next Marvel or DC movie.

c) To prosecute a needless illegal and unconstitutional war.

d) To provide health care and child care for all Americans.

6) What’s the deal with Lindsey Graham?

a) He is so far up Trump’s ass he does pullups on Trump’s tonsils.

b) He only comes out from Trump’s ass long enough to look around to see if Trump’s still President such that if he’s not, he can say “oh, I never liked him!”

c) He tries so hard to hide the truth about himself, which is nothing to be ashamed of, when the only truth about himself he should be ashamed of is that he’s Lindsey Graham.

d) All of the above.

7) John Fetterman?

a) What happened to that guy?

b) Well, I guess you could say he’s a maverick, right?

c) Even still, I kinda dig the beard and the shorts.

d) Why would you even bring up that name to me???!!!

8) Don’t Watch Reruns of Fraser Even Though I Still Like the Show and Would Watch Them It If I Didn’t Hate Kelsy Grammar’s Politics So Damn Much.

a) I’m sorry, I’m weak.

b) But it is the best spinoff from an original series ever!

c) Still love them, sorry to say. Especially those with Eddie.

d) Agree.

9) Amazon Prime?

a) Don’t order stuff from them ever, but I do subscribe to the streaming service.

b) No ordering or streaming ever but it’s okay if I go to Whole Foods, right? I mean, where else are you gonna get decent kale?

c) God help me, I saw Melania and loved it!

d) No way, no how.

 

10) If you were stranded on a desert island, who would you most want to be stranded with?

a) AOC

b) Pete Buttigieg

c) Paul Krugman

d) Any Democrat would be great, but it’s a shame they’d be stuck on a desert island with the likes of me instead of out there saving our nation!

 

     11) Howard Lutnick:

     a) Looks like a Muppet.

     b) Probably is a Muppet.

12) If I am physically able, I will be participating in the No Kings Rally this Saturday.

a) You Betcha!

b) I’ll be there carrying a sign!

c) I’ll be bringing 2 or 3 friends!

d) Wild Horses Couldn’t Drag Me Away (from it).

SCORING

Score one point for every (d) answer except you receive an automatic one point for any answer to Numbers 4, 6, 11, and 12 as all answers to those are correct.

I know you might have thought any answer was correct to Number 10 but that is a trick question - I was looking to see if you care more about the country than about frolicking on the beach with your chosen liberal hero. For me that would have been frolicking with AOC <sigh> but unlike some of you, I am truly ideologically pure!

So, if you scored a perfect 12 you have passed. Congratulations!

Any score lower and you have failed Perry’s Liberal Ideological Purity Test. Immediately begin watching Lawrence O’Donnell every night for the next six months, take notes if you must, and then take Perry’s Liberal Ideological Purity Test again.

In the meantime, don’t even talk to me.

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