Space Force: A Program for the Ages

J. Cornwallace, The F.O.O.L.

While we at the Breakfast are generally not fans of glaring governmental redundancy, the recent decision by President Trump to overlook the fact that the United States Air Force already handles all issues relating to space defense, and form a completely separate Space Force incorporated into the Air Force (a force within the force), really got our applause. Please disregard that the Air Force already had an Air Force Space Command, it was outdated and there was no force behind it. Command is a much weaker word.

What gained our applause was not the additional layers added to our lightning quick bureaucracy, no, it was the millions of cheers that arose from middle aged men in their parents’ basements across this majestic land. What has been overlooked in all the Space Force hoop-la is the chance for science fiction to finally be taken seriously. What limitations, what barriers will now be shattered since we’ve added Force to the end of the name of the people who already protect space?

Light sabers, blasters, phasers, lasers, transporters, cyborgs, droids- the sky’s the limit, nerd nation. But hold back your wet dreams- what if Space Force leads to the long coveted first contact? Aliens! Oh yeah, or even better yet, alien ladies. Quick! Someone better jump on creating a dating app because Tinder might not work. What if they have flippers instead of hands? Well, I guess they could still swipe. At any rate, get ready because now that we have a Force using all the same technology and same people doing their same jobs under a different name, anything is possible.

Imagine the orange mane of President Trump glowing as he looks on and says: “warp speed Mr. Pence”-I just got some mist in my eyes. Friends, Space Force is here and we must be prepared to accept all of the great possibilities that exist as we continue to boldly go where no man has gone before, under a different name. SPACE FORCE FOR THE AGES!!!!!!!!

Bucks for Bernie: A Tale for 2020

J. Cornwallace, Head F.O.O.L.

Always curious about the possibilities for humanity to transcend the boundaries of rational forms of society, and abandon current functional systems for outdated philosophies of the past perpetually doomed for eventual failure, I decided to give one Bernie Sanders an honest chance this time. While generally skeptical of any candidate who advocates free everything, as one should be, I made it a point to seek out his website and view his platform. Immediately, one slight problem presented itself; there was no damn platform on his website. Being familiar with Bernie’s small donation, no big money, self-funded war cries, I was not surprised to see a pop-up asking for cash; however, I did not expect every page of the website to say “we’ve got a yuuuuuge problem” coupled with some jargon about failing education, banks, and pleas for cash. Ok Bernie, what the hell? Tell me you haven’t reprogrammed your website to remove all the content and just ask for money. Well, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt I did a Google for “Bernie Sanders’ platform,” again “we’ve got a yuuuuuge problem.” At this point the irony of the whole thing began to sink in. The socialist pandering for dollars is like something out of a Monty Python sketch. Never mind telling people what you’re about Bernie, people should just trust that you have their interests in mind and throw cash at you; works for the strippers right? Change doesn’t come cheap America, never mind that it’s free to vote, just send cash now. There’s a fire and the only way to put it out is to throw money on it. It’s ok Bernie, you order the most expensive thing on the menu and then stiff me for the bill, here’s all the money in my wallet and a Texas Roadhouse gift card-NOT!! At least Donald Trump sells hats on his website, you just ask for money. How about at least sending me a shirt or something you geriatric Marxist. Maybe this is some type of short-term strategy to build up his war chest. If so, tell people what you’re up to and make your platform available. As opposed to just trying to dupe us into giving our money to nonsense like the old ladies on Dateline fooled by a fake IRS scam.

Flickr.com

Burn it Down for Burns!!!

J. Murray Spencer, Sports

The Westminster Kennel Club’s annual dog show is the Super Bowl of the sport. I’m sorry, I have a hard time saying that.  The event had all the passion, glitz, and glam of any event that no one cares about- organized and supported by ultra-rich millionaires who sleep on stacks of hundreds and crushed little guys.  However sedentary my life has become, I felt that I was at least qualified to question what met the merits of classifying something as a sport or not.  Lessons in life present themselves in various forms and I am proud to admit: lesson learned.  The steel-eyed canine competitors jumped, leaped, and shook their little doggie booties, leaving it all in the arena.

Any championship event possesses a magnified potential for controversy and when a purple ribbon with a ruffled flourish is on the line, well, let’s just say controversy is sure to manifest itself.  First, to all you dogs, I wish there was a way I could put you all in a room, wrap endless stretching arms around everyone, and give you a big J. Murray Spencer super hug.  You’re all winners, except for you, King, you dumbass Wire Fox Terrier.

Burns, the Longhaired Dachshund, took to the floor with perfectly combed hair glistening in the arena lights.  Frankly, he was so good I was contemplating plans for us to run away together.  His cute little Dachshund face was stoic yet gave me a sense that he was just the nicest puppy, like one you wake up to licking your face after you overmedicate.  Burns had it in the bag or so we all thought.

As I write this, gazing at the ashtray imbedded in my apartment drywall, it is hard to say that the wounds aren’t still fresh.  However, as a serious coverer of sports (I’m hesitant to call myself anything other than that) I must put opinions aside; but screw that.  King, the dumbass Wire Fox Terrier, took to the floor and while passing the judges table his handler must have blew some little guy dust into their eyes because frankly King, you look like a cartoon dog.  Maybe we should change your name to Scooby Doo. How a dog with a beard that would look more at home on the high seas with Jack Sparrow and a little doggie pecker that wags in unison with his tail wins the showcase event of the dog show circuit leads one to believe the whole damn system is in peril.  What, did Putin rig this one too?  King, you sir are number two!  Honestly, if this had been a more mainstream sporting event sponsored by Bud Light there would have been Molotov cocktails in the air.  While I’ll never watch another dog show again (I just get too invested), this makes me want to become an activist for a fairer, less rich-folk influenced, judging.  It is high time we got the money out of the dog show circuit.       

Why Only a Green New Deal?

J. Cornwallace, The F.O.O.L

With much fanfare, freshman representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY), henceforth referred to as “The OC,” released her much anticipated Green New Deal.  Given that there doesn’t seem to be much of anything coming out of Washington these days, it was nice to see a freshman representative float a plan that calls for a limit on cow farts and no more airplanes: fuck you Hawaii.  However, what was truly concerning was not the plan’s outright elimination of the necessities of modern society, oh no.  Honestly, for the Democratic Party, the party of diversity, to throw their weight behind something so blatantly discriminatory left all of us here at the Breakfast in a state of complete shock. J. Murray Spencer had to go home, but he’s always been overly sensitive. 

The OC ought to be ashamed of herself, couple this with the Democratic train wreck in Virginia and it leads one to question whether the whole damn ship isn’t rudderless.  Where were Schumer and Pelosi on this one, out back smokin’ a jay?  The OC must’ve never had an art class because it’s the only excuse she has for forgetting about an entire palate of other colors.  In case you didn’t know, brown and blue together make green, it takes a village. 

I’m sure there’ll be some political bologna about green being the color of the eco movement, and that was the deal’s purpose; hogwash.  If that’s the case, the OC needs to watch Captain Planet, because I recall a broad spectrum of colors representing earth, wind, fire, water and heart! 

Why only a green deal? Why not a Roy G. Biv deal?  Then we could have used a rainbow and rolled up LGBTQ and the eco movement into one nice little package. Someone please explain to the OC about two-birds-one-stone.  No, instead what we got was an overtly discriminatory plan that championed the superiority of green.  Okay, the OC can have it her way, no more blue, yellow, brown, orange, yellow, indigo, or violet.  Let’s just get it over with; call up Home Depot, order one trillion gallons of green paint and make the whole damn world green.  What a nice thing to pass on to our children: a world without color.  I have to stop, my acid reflux is becoming aggravated.  

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com


Why a Wall at All?

J. Cornwallace, Editor and Political Hack.

Unending fights over border security have a way of making everybody sick and tired; no one wants to hear about walls anymore. The same solutions, the same offers of compromise, there is just no wonder the whole argument seems to be going nowhere. While semantics have been used in an attempt to break the ensuing gridlock- “enhanced fencing, metal barrier, Normandy fencing”- maybe the true reason this whole quandary continues is because the simple fact is most walls are ugly. When, as a child, I was made to look at the wall or stand in the corner, there was no element of nice involved. My friends, walls are just dull to look at.

park garden gardener bush

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Innovation being one of our specialties, a recent trip to Baskin Robbins at the expense of the last of our petty cash facilitated a lively debate about the merits of walls in general, resulting in a solution for the ages. Why a wall at all? How about a shrubbery? More correctly, a shrub barrier! Anyone who has ever had the privilege of visiting a shrub maze will readily tout the merits of such barriers. Personally, a shrub maze has caused the premature ending of two blind dates and my permanent exile from the Big Brother/Big Sister program; for all I know, every one of them is still in the maze.

A single Google search turned up several species of shrubs that do extremely well in arid climates. Beauty Bush, Boxwood, Cliff Rose, Dwarf Alberta Spruce, and Butterfly Bush; side note, can you not imagine 700 miles of Butterfly Bush? I’m about to pass out. In all practicality, Dwarf Alberta Spruce would be the most likely choice as it has prickers and national defense is paramount. However, the drabness of the spruce could easily be offset by intermittent patches of Cliff Rose, Beauty Bush, and my personal love, the Butter Fly Bush. How Lovely!

photo of brick wall tunnel beside bush

Photo by Adrian Jozefowicz on Pexels.com

While political factions rarely ever meet on any major issue, 700 miles of arboriculture seems like a win for all. Think of people from both sides of the aisle, and shrubbery, coming together to marvel at the beauty. Of note, Gooseberries do particularly well in dry areas and could be an added bonus should people be able to also eat from the shrub. My friends, our future is too perilous to be squandered on ugly solutions to complex problems. Let’s make this a beautiful one!

It was just brought to my attention that someone may dig under the shrubbery. Well, if you are willing to imperil the root structure of such a feat as 700 miles of unending shrub is, then you need a serious whopping.