As the Idiocracy takes the country to the dogs, who wins the Golden Moutza of the Month?
By John Kass
The Idiocracy has taken over the United States. You know this. So do I.
But don’t despair my fellow Americans. You can fight the power of the Idiocracy. It all begins in the palm of your hand with the most powerful weapon in the resistance:
And today we award the prestigious Golden Moutza of September.
Sadly, reader Eileen McElligott Ahlstrom bailed and says she can’t help us. “Way too many [idiots] to choose just one!” she writes. And Frank Meccia bails too, hoping others will fill the breach. “I can’t wait to read your column and see who deserves it this month,” writes Frank. “Too many people to nominate.”
Frank, Frank, Frank. Eileen, Eileen, Eileen. Jeepers! Have you forgotten the winged words of Papou Pete? He said: “When the politicians speak, the donkeys break wind.”
And that’s why we need the Moutza, to push that wind away.
Consider the perpetually windy Terry McAuliffe, the Virginia Democrat running for governor, promising that parents will have nothing to do with their children’s’ education when he’s the boss.
“I’m not going to let parents come into schools and actually take books out and make their own decision,” McAuliffe said. “I don’t think parents should be telling schools what they should teach.”
That’s typical. Parents are expected to pay, but not interest themselves about what happens to the minds of their children in the re-education camps.
Really, Terry? Brilliant, just brilliant. Now please blow on this one a little bit. Nah!
Clear thinking helps fight the Idiocracy, but corporate woke media (is there any other kind?) likes feelings over analysis, raw emotion over context, usually offered in the shrill tones of the shamer to the shamed, the better to herd the cattle to the voting chutes.
The resistance starts with the power of one. And the Moutza, created by my ancestors—who by the way also invented democracy–is for free people.
Just point your open palm at some idiot, spread your fingers wide, and say the magic words, like “Nah!” (Take it) or “Feesah etho” (blow on it). Find me on Face Book where folks nominate their worthies. All are welcome, even well-mannered commies.
Bob Boren has a good one.
“I nominate the Art Institute for the Golden Moutza. The Art Institute fired by email, all the docents that work there,” writes Boren. “They are all volunteer workers that are very knowledgeable and do an excellent job, FOR FREE!! According to the Tribune editorial they are going to hire (and pay) a more diverse workforce. This from an institution that constantly asks for financial donations. They got rid of free help to train and pay a new group. According to the Trib, the Art Institute thinks docents are mostly old retired white women not worth keeping. To the Art Institute—NAH!”
Agreed. What the Art Institute did to its docent volunteers—not all wealthy and white—was shameful indeed. They love art. They study art. And those of us who’ve been fortunate to visit the masterpieces there and listen to the docents don’t think about docent demographics. Only racists think about skin. We think of their knowledge and passion and ability to communicate.
The Tribune editorial board, (I was once a member) absolutely nailed it in “Shame on the Art Institute for summarily canning its volunteer docents.”
Great art is not made by the woke. All they make is propaganda. You’d think the Art Institute would know this.
But the Art Institute decided to play cheap theatrical identity politics and cave, like so many other liberal institutions, to the woke, who see the world not through the clear and pained eyes of the artist, but through the twisted prism of racial politics.
Art Institute? Feesah etho. You shame yourselves. Leave the art world and become Chicago aldermen.
And now let’s deal with the scourge of the derivative pumpkin slurpers.
“Normally, this time of year, I nominate that disgusting Candy Corn,” writes Peter V. Bella. “But since the pumpkin spice addicts have been craving that laboratory-created ingredient since mid-summer and now line up for it, I nominate the producers and consumers of pumpkin spice. NAH!!!”
Perfect. I don’t know what’s worse, the taste or the slurpers marketed into drinking pumpkin. Nah!!
Keith Lutz nominates Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot and her Police Supt. David Brown. Why? With blood on Chicago streets from violent crime, Lightfoot has sent Brown to make nice with catch-and-release Cook County State’s Attorney Kim Foxx and Chief Judge Tim “Electronic Monitoring” Evans.
“Lightfoot and Brown stopped attacking Foxx and Evans,” said Lutz, “Kids are getting slaughtered, and Lightfoot decided to stop putting blame where it belonged. Either she’s been promised a federal job or STUPID ENOUGH to believe the deal [Cook County Democratic Boss Toni] Preckwinkle offered.”
Foxx is Preckwinkle’s protégé and Toni’s creature. Evans is her eager hound. And Toni, also president of the Cook County Board, has just announced she’s running for another term as board president. She’ll win. And as I’ve told you here for weeks now, Mayor Wokefoot, eyeing re-election, begins the process of kissing Toni’s ring. Hope it’s not frozen, Lori.
Denise Harmantas Mikkelsen offers her Golden Moutza from Southern California, aimed at race baiting liars Vice President Kamala Harris and U.S. Rep. Maxine Waters.
They shrieked that U.S. Border Patrol agents on horseback were whipping illegal aliens like slave-masters of old. The photographer says his pictures were misconstrued. American border patrol officers, many of whom are Latino, weren’t whipping anybody. Those were reins.
Biden’s border policies have failed. Border? What border? He sinks in the polls, especially among independent voters who decide elections. How do the Democrats respond? They whip everyone with fake guilt, and shriek slavery and racism.
“Definitely Kamala and Maxine (my congresswoman here in SoCal), comparing border patrol issues to slave history. Nah!”
“Absolutely Kamala and Mad Maxine comparing the border patrol using horses to runaway slaves being whipped,” says Tim Van Driska. “And let’s not forget that while sleep-talking, Biden banned the border patrol from using horses, much to the celebration of drug and human traffickers.”
Like I said on The Chicago Way podcast, the horse I’d like the Big Guy to ride on the border (that he won’t visit) can be found sitting outside supermarkets. It eats quarters.
One reader offered kindness rather than the Moutza. And on this I agree.
“How about an Anti-Moutza award?” asks Terry Hardekopf. “I nominate that federal jury for taking down [convicted sex predator] R. Kelley. An enormous amount of diligence and work put together a federal trial to bring an individual to justice. I know we seek out what goes wrong, but occasionally, the hard work needs to be recognized. So, I nominate the federal trial of R. Kelly for the first ‘Anti-Moutza’ award.”
Great idea Terry. We need a positive award to recognize the good that people do, surrounded as they are by hordes of nincompoops.
And now, back to the nincompoops, like Devin Williams, relief pitcher for the Milwaukee Brewers, who drank too much champagne celebrating the Brewers clinching the NL Central. He punched a wall and broke his hand.
Now the Brewers pitcher is out of the playoffs. Nice going, nincompoop.
“He’s most worthy of the 5-finger salute,” says Ann MacIntosh Baker. “Too bad he can’t Moutza himself because he busted his own hand. Devin Williams, this one’s for you – NAH!
Jeff Alan, a Moutza insurrectionist, demands the Golden Moutza of September go to President Joe “The Big Guy” Biden, though Alan knows presidents are exempt. But he wantonly persists in flagrant violation of the sacred Moutzatution.
“C’mon,” whined Jeff. I know it [the Golden Moutza] is not supposed to go to a president, but we need to make an exception for Biden’s continued (deleted)-ups in Afghanistan, the border, Covid, crime and being an (deleted).”
Mr. Alan, you forgot inflation and Biden insisting that spending another $3.5 trillion we do not have (or is it $6 trillion?) will cost us “zero.”
But no Mr. Alan, a thousand times no! How dare you, sir! Presidents are exempt. One more peep out of you mister smarty pants, or I’ll have you put in the pokey next to the Chewbacca Shaman!
“I nominate the person(s) that control Joe Biden,” says Herman K. Prospect. “Since, technically the aren’t elected as president, they should be eligible for the Moutza. NAH!”
Brilliant. You see Jeff Alan, what Herman K. Prospect just did there? A moutza for the meat puppet masters. Excellent!
David Kleckner nominated a special being and sent a photograph.
“How about my dog, Sir Vincent von Lambeau, aka Vinny,” writes Kleckner. “After shaking the stuffing out of one of mom’s favorite slippers while she wasn’t home, he’s considering running for office in Illinois figuring he could shake the stuffing out of taxpayers as well as any of our current politicians. Nah!”
So, who wins the Golden Moutza of September?
There are many worthies. And there can be only one. But Vinny is cute and devious at the same time in the photo, and smirks, a feature of terriers.
Since the Idiocracy has already taken the nation to the dogs, a dog it shall be.
Sir Vincent von Lambeau, for ripping up the slipper and thinking you’ll be another tax-and-spend politician ripping up all of our slippers, you win the Golden Moutza of the Month.
Vinny? Lift up that cute face and take it like a man.
(Copyright 2021 John Kass)