(Editor’s Warning: Just as in Part One, This article contains language that prudish readers may find offensive. The author is a post-menopausal virgin answering to the name of Teresita who wishes to keep her real identity a secret because she is still in an Anglican convent in New Zealand. Proceed at your own risk.)
Let’s talk dirty. Let’s talk politics.
There is an ancient legend in Flipland about a feral bitch in heat who encountered and mated with a horny drunk. From this coupling the Founding Father of Flip politics was born. In recognition of his maternal origin, history calls him “Hideputa” and to honor his memory it has been the practice of Flips elected to public office to add this name to the ones they are born with. This eponymous appendage underscores the basic truth that only mothers with manners and morals unique to the oldest profession can raise and motivate children to be successful in the kindred profession of politics.
Likewise, this adoptive name shared by all Flip politicians, Pricks and Assholes alike, serves to emphasize that fucking and shitting on Flipland is a fraternal undertaking and must be conducted in an atmosphere of civility expected of next door neighbours, just as the named organs are in human anatomy. Accordingly, the surface of Flipland’s political life is governed by protocols and parliamentary rules summarized into one phrase, “Etiquette before ethics.” Beneath that surface, however, the guiding principle of Hideputa morality dominates — the law of love, the greatest love of all — the love of self.
The successful African Hideputa Flip owes his African-ness and Hideputa-ness to the Hopeless Idiots whose absolute lack of intelligence is compensated by nature with prodigious fertility and in their numbers gave them the power to elevate a Flip. While this bodes ill to the future course of human evolution, it ensures the survival of the Hideputa species giving its members the house edge in the crap game that is Flipland politics. As in all crap tables, the electoral game is played with money but the emergence of Hopeless Idiots as the prime determinant in winning the contest made popularity (or name recall) a vital ingredient. This loaded the dice in favor of film personalities and those with family ties to established Afro-Hideputa politicos.
And so, thanks to the tribe of Hopeless Idiots, Flipland’s political scene is now studded with denizens of the sound stage and second or third generation Hideputas. The actor who has successfully clambered up to African status acquired and honed his moral values and work ethic from the chink producers who exploited him and from faggot managers and faggot directors he worked with (and sometimes became intimately involved with, usually at the initial stages of his career). Little or no adjustment is necessary from the studio to the chambers of Flipland’s Babuyan Pambansa. The same may be said of the second or third generation dynasts as they had their elders for mentors.
And what about the lawyers who used to dominate Flipland politics? They’re still there. They started it all.
It’s more fun in Flipland.