Beaglethorpe for President
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
Greetings, friend: I’m running for President of the United States, and I'll sue anyone who says I'm qualified.
I'm running as an Independent. Since I won't be running for re-election, I'll be working for you, and not for me, the very first day I sit down at the desk in the Oval Office. I won't be rummaging around in any girl's panties, so, if you want to impeach me, you'll have to think of something important, like my signing a treaty with the Republic of Blevetia without getting permission from the ACLU and the National Rifle Association.
I will try to be compassionate with the House and Senate. I know it's awful hard for them to go for as many as four days without a snort or a page or an honorarium. But we've got to put a stop to that crap. It's time to take Congress out to the woodshed.
You remember the movie, "Zorba the Greek". A wealthy young fellow came back from England to his ancestral country of Crete to fix up some kind of mine, and hired Zorba to help him. The attempt to fix up the mine ended in disaster, but in the meantime, the young fellow had made up a list of materials and gave a big wad of money to Zorba to go into town, and buy the needed materials.
You could tell by looking at him, that Zorba wasn't exactly a divinity student, and he spent a good part of his boss's money in town dining and whoring. On capitol hill you have 100 senators and 435 representatives. That's 535 Zorbas under one roof alone. I'm not sure how to count the number of Zorbas in the other two branches of government, but there are probably several thousand. It ought to make your hair stand on end.
We pay taxes. The Treasury holds them. And Congress salivates profusely. It's like turning a street punk loose in Fort Knox. But even that tidal wave of money is not enough for the trickle-down to keep them in cocaine, call girls and Cadillacs. They go out and borrow some more. So America is in the hole for four trillion dollars. A trillion here. A trillion there. Pretty soon you're talking about real money.
While they're busy doing for themselves, they're doing very little for you.
If I had a party I'd call it the National Referendum Party. The logo would be the Meerkat. You remember him. An admirable little critter. Smart. Alert. Responsible. Cooperative. You name it. Well, there's something you can do about all the Federal corruption. You can do it, legally and peacefully, and nobody and nothing can stop you. Code-name: "ConCon2". And you can do it whether or not I get elected.
You've heard a lot recently about "giving the country back to the people". What a crock. The only way you'll get it back is to take it back. No. I don't mean a revolution. A revolution sounds good on paper, but it destroys most of what you're trying to save. American never had one, anyway. I'll get to that later.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
Beaglethorpe for President, written under the pen-name "Fafnir W. Beaglethorpe," is a political-and-historical satire with a serious purpose. The book recommends to the reader the desirability of holding a Second Constitutional Convention in the same spirit as the first one drafted in 1787. Although not exactly official doctrine, the ideas of John Locke (1632-1704) concerning "natural rights" and a "social contract" lurk in the background. Locke’s conclusion was that "if the government breaks the trust of the people who established it, the people have a right to rebel and make a new contract under which they may govern themselves more conveniently." Finding people of the same caliber as Washington, Hamilton and Franklin in this corrupt age is a daunting task but must be attempted. Since a legal study would not likely be read by the general public, the book contains sometimes-salty humor with defensible documentation: 76 footnotes.
About the Author
Beaglethorpe was born July 4th, 1920, in Colgan, North Dakota. While still in high school, he invented a racing model of a wheat combine using four Packard engines in tandem. He got his BS, MS and PhD at Harvard, Yale and Princeton, respectively, in each case on a scholarship from the other two universities. His doctorate is in quantum physics. While at Yale, he made a small fortune with his invention, a pocket cyclotron whose proton beam achieved 976 billion ergs. His wife, the former Pansy Throstlebower, is a valkyrie who got her three graduate degrees the same way from the same universities. Her most famous mathematical work is a treatise on non-parametric excursions from a stationary stochastic variable. Almost nobody understands it, and nobody agrees with it. They now live in Putney, Vermont, and have three sons: Mike (a US Marine paratrooper), Cuthbert (a ballet dancer), and Balthazar (a successful alchemist).