Liberal Utopia

What your world would be if everything liberals wanted, they got. Open the door at the bottom of its Elysium fa├žade and take a glimpse of hell.

Emmy for longest-running comedy series goes to...


Slower than a braindead mollusk! Less powerful than a French“man’s” resolve! Unable to grasp reality or logic sound!

ook, down in the mud! It's a turd! It's a slime! It's Supermoonbat!

Yes, it's Supermoonbat! Strange, smelly visitor from a parallel universe who came to DNC headquarters with powers and abilities way behind those of mortal men.

Supermoonbat! Who can see massive pollution in every river, shun facts in his so-called "mind," and who — disguised as Howl Dean, wild-eyed chairperson for a former national political party — fights a never-ending battle against truth, justice, and the American way!

Episode MMMCCLVI"The Leveled Levee"

"Hey, Howl. What do you think feel about this press release?"

"Let me see.... Mmhmm... Hmmm...Heh... Mmhmm..."

"Howl Dean! Can't you see? It ties right in with our cracked investigation of Hal Burton, the fiendish mastermind behind every illegal scheme we saw in each of our last 3,255 episodes."

"He is an oily one, isn't he? But, Ditzi, you of all people should know that we don't try and convict people in this country in the court of public opinion. We do so only in our courts of law by a jury of his or her peers who first weigh all the relevant evidence before reaching an impartial verdict and then.... What!"


"Aww, who am I kidding? Of course we convict people without a trial. What was I thinking feeling!"

"You had me worried there for a minute. You know this Burton fellow needs to fry for all the stuff we've accused him of. Now I say let's send out that press release and get cooking!"

"I'm with you, Ditzi!"

"Mr. Green, Howl Dean and Ditzi Ditch are here to see you. Do you want me to have them wait or send them in now?"

"Great Caesar's Ghost! Of course I want you to send them in. I had you summon them over an hour ago, didn't I?"

"I can't recall, sir. Anyway, they're coming in now."

"Gee, Sorossy. Who's your new secretary?"

"Don't start with me, Dean. I'm in no mood for your surly complaining. Especially today."

"Mr. Green, I don't think feel Howl meant anything by it. He's just wondering who keeps finding you such wonderful talent for your office."

"Now don't you defend him, Ms. Ditch. I know exactly what Howl meant. But what I would like to know, Dean, is what you mean by this press release of yours."

"Actually, it was Ditzi's idea."

"Now don't try blaming her. I've already made up my mind that it's all your doing and I want to know what's the big idea."

"Well, chief, it ought to be as plain as the meaning of is is. We're out to fry that biggest of the biggest bunches of crooks around, one Hal I. Burton, alias Badol E. Vilrich, alias Topone Percent, alias Taxcuts Justus IV."

"I thought Vilrich was my alias."

"No, yours is Goodol E. Vilrich."

"Oh. Anyway, why do you feel this press release is going to help us?"

"I'll let Ditzi answer that. She has all the details."


"I'm getting to it, Mr. Green. You know I've been wanting to meet with you for such a long time, but you were too busy adding up your currency futures to come out of your vault and discuss this injustice. But now that you're meeting with me, the only thing left for me to do is go home."

"Sure it is, Ditzi. You know good and well I have no intention of ever being alone in a room with anyone named Ditzi, especially when she camps out along roadsides and tells everyone I killed her son. The only reason I'm meeting you now is because Dean's here to restrain you just in case you — and I quote — start hitting something and won't stop 'til it was dead — end quote."

"Ah, come on, Mr. Green. I didn't mean I wanted to punch you. Just anyone who criticizes those who work for you."

"That's not what I heard. Be that as it may, I'm not so concerned anymore now that Dean's here. His ditziness is so far beyond yours I doubt anyone'll be able to stop him once he starts hitting something. So watch your step."

"Got it, chief. So do you want to hear the details about this press release or not?"

"Go right ahead."

"You mean left."


"You said right."

"That's right."

"But you want me to go left."


"Not right."


"I don't know."

"Then ask him."

"Ask who?"

"Dean there!"

"Well, Howl? Who do you feel is right?"

"Huh? Oh... third base!"

"Great Caesar's Ghost! Either of you are enough to drive anyone ditzier than both of you put together!"

"Uh, would you mind parsing that for us, chief?"

"Yes, Howl, I most certainly would mind! Now while I still have part of one left, would you be so kind as to explain to me why you think this press release will help us?"

"Well, chief. Like I said, it ought to be as plain as the meaning of is is."

"Great Caesar's Ghost!"

"We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this special report."

"Good afternoon. We have a breaking story: Howl Dean, chairperson of the Do Nothing Commune, just announced that the non-taxpaying wealthy megacapitalist who has close ties to the embattled Shrub Administration, Hal I. Burton, is a big crook and should fry, and that President Shrub should resign and be impeached for it. What?... Oh, for some reason that last part wasn't in Chairperson Dean's announcement. It's just our network's standing announcement regarding anything this administration does. For more, let's go to our own Leff Tyst who's at DNC national headquarters. Leff, what do you see?"

"Well, By. It looks like the DNC is organizing a protest over this which will probably have twice as many protesters showing up as they had the last time they organized a protest over this same thing. So we're talking dozens of people protesting now instead of just tens."

"That is a major development, Leff. Do organizers anticipate any response soon from the embattled administration?"

"Probably not, By. They say they can't get anyone to come out and talk with them."

"You mean other than yourself and our network."

"That's right, By."

"You mean left."


"Thanks, Leff. Well, there you have it, folks. Again the embattled Shrub Administration is refusing to send anyone out to talk with normal, everyday, regular protesters as if it is ashamed of something or has something to hide. We will continue to update this story as it develops. In the meantime, we return to the sixth of our twelve-part interview with Barbrain Sandbag. I'm By Assed. Good afternoon, and sewage—I mean, courage."

"Turn off See Spin Spin!"

"Sorry, Mr. President. I didn't see you come in. I just like having something mindless on in the background as I go around not caring about black people while polishing all the swastika fixtures we have here."

"Well, you missed one. Right there next to the fireplace."

"Sorry, sir. I'll polish it right away."

"You darn right you will."

"Yes, sir."

"Now has anyone seen my soopurseekrit file on our evil plan to level all levees next to black neighborhoods?"

"I think I saw it on your desk, sir. Right next to the blueprints for your Incredible Artificial Global Warming Enhancement Machine®."

"Actually, it's to the left of it."

"Sorry, Mr. President. My mistake."

"Hey! How come we have water nearly up to our rooftop, but our neighbor's house — not to mention his entire yard — is completely dry?"

"I don't know, dear. Why don't you call down to him and ask?"

"OK. Hey, Reid! How come all this water below us isn't pouring right over your fence?"

"I don't know, Fred. I only put the fence up a week ago after some government guy came around and just gave it to me after saying I'd be needing it real soon."

"Well, why didn't we get one?"

"I didn't ask him. But I'd guess it's because he doesn't care about you."

"Oh. Well, here comes the helicopter now. Is it my imagination or is its crew made up of just white guys?"

"I don't know, dear. But it looks like they're going to land in Mr. Neick's yard."

"You're right. They are! And they're picking him and his whole family up. — Oh, no. Now they're leaving. But without us! Hey, wait! Come back!"

"You know, dear, this looks like a job for Supermoonbat."

"Good idea. Maybe if we yell loud enough he'll hear us with that super hear-only-what-he-wants-to-hear hearing of his. Help me out, honey. Supermoonbat!"

"Supermoonbat, help!"

"Supermoonbat, save us!"

"Hurry, Supermoonbat!"

"Look, honey. I feel there's something moving around down there in the mud. Could it be?"

"I feel you're right, dear. It is!"

"It's Supermoonbat! Thank leftness."

"We're saved!"

"Sorossy Green, do you feel that the reports we've been seeing about only black neighborhoods getting flooded all point to the work of the embattled Shrub Administration which has close ties to the non-taxpaying wealthy megacapitalist Hal I. Burton?"

"Of course I do, Leff. Everyone I know feels that this administration doesn't care about black people and that it wants to make sure their neighborhoods are the only ones which ever wind up flooded."

"That's very terrible of it, isn't it?"

"Great Caesar's Ghost! Of course it is. It's why I've sent out my best chairperson to get to the bottom of this. He'll find out what this administration knew and when it knew it, or my name isn't Sorossy Green!"

"Howl, I'd like to ask you a question."

"What's that, Ditzi?"

"How come we never see you and Supermoonbat ever in the same room together?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like today. He was sludging around giving interviews to every Tom, Dick, and Leff Tyst in sight. That is, with the exception of you.... — Oh, never mind. It's just a feeling I've had ever since Episode XXVIII."

"Really, Ditzi, you must learn to control your emotions. They will be your undoing."

"I know, Howl. Just chalk it up to my good ol' reliable streak of paranoia peeking out. A hazard of our progression, I feel."

"My feelings exactly."


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