By Melanie Wade
“The individual mirrors in his individuation the preordained social laws of exploitation, however mediated.” Theoder Arondo
In a shady rural southernmost area of Alabama, there is a community of farmers who are planning for and anxiously awaiting the late fall harvest…
What is that maw is seein out in the wild blue yonder? Why, it’s the 2016 Election Moment Truth Wagon coming down the mountain. Look at her go! Why, I reckon she’ll be here in less than a month of Sundays.
You Republican fence riders, if you haven’t already slid down from that fence post and git ur ducks in a row, saddle up! It’s time to fish, or cut bait.
The Harvest is near, and as previous generations before us all know, our crops will surely reap what we’ve sown.
We all know there were high hopes during planting season. We planted a series of grains and vegetables, but things didn’t turn out as we planned. The 2016 weather has not been our friend. After “Sessions” of plagues have came upon us, much of our original crops are gone. There now remains only two viable harvest hopes. Hillary Jalapeños or Trump Turnips. Take yer pick!
We ain’t the only farm in town. Don’t forget to call on our effected friends down the road a piece. Both the Senate and the House family could use prayers and as many hands as they can git for all that heavy liftin that needs be done and is still to come.
Please be advised, there is a likelihood that Trump Turnips were subjected to a poisonous mixture when Cousin Rudy took the plane up and crap dusted them Turnips. But, fer months, Aggie- culture commissioners She-Spicer and Reince-Bob keep assuring us that the crops are jist fine. All loyal farming families will jist get to pickin ‘n’ consumin’ those Trump Turnips no matter what they taste like. They taste foul? Reince Bob says that taste is just vitamins, so eat um and like um.
Good Lord willin, we have less than a month to cultivate what’s left of our planned harvest. So, hitch yur wagons and call yur kin! We gotta bring in the crops cause it’s gonna be a long winter!
Pay no attention to Katrina Sue, Scottie Nelf, or Lil’ Boris Jeffery and them others who fell at the end of the county line. They’re jist mad cuz they own 11-9-16, they fell off the Trump Turnip Truck. They wee bit sore.
Stay tuned for the next adventure, where the farmers discover a land covering new plague of frogs…..named Pepe!
Photo credit: Lonestarmom’s Leica