Queen, Freud And Baghdad Bob

Tis Friday and dinner must be just right. Why dinner? Well, because I must eat and I must eat in stimulating company. Tonight I’ve invited three guests to dinner and I will share with you the text and scope of our discussion. Why again you might ask? Because dear reader, if I offer you the tidbits of stimulating conversation, among those who are most conversant in my field or in their fields, or perhaps in your field, then you might, just might mind you, have your consciousness expanded. Oh, that won’t affect your waistline my friend, just your consciousness.

Our first guest is none other than the Host, originator and magnificently intellectually endowed Nick Queen of Patriot Paradox. Nick of course hangs out with others who are equally intellectually endowed including the brilliant MRober at Ogres Politics and Views and the charming Songstress7 of News from The Great Beyond and last, but definately not least the terrific Peitro from The Smarter Cop

But, I digress, I’ve invited Nick for a couple of reasons, first, because he is the real Boss, and second, because I’m an obsequious fawner who just can’t resist telling Nick how illustrious he is and how happy I am to be in the running for King of the Blogs.

Our Second guest is none other than that world renown auteur of popular profundity and practical philosophy regarding war and its fighting, the ever enlightening Baghdad Bob. BB (as he is known to those of us in the know) was invited for his stimulating Queen’s (no, not Nick Queen) English in explaining the many concepts of invading a peaceful kingdom, raping and pillaging as you go, but ultimately being repulsed by the artful denizens of the peaceful kingdom.

Our final and especially invited guest is none other than that Paragon of Pundrity, my former student Sigmund Freud (you wouldn't believe how long I've been doing this - psychotherapy that is). Sigmund was actually chosen not because he is a former student, but rather because I wanted his evaluation of the current situation in the world and to see if his evaluation of BB is the same as mine.

These three guests were all sent invitations weeks and weeks ago long before even I knew that I would be participating in this contest. How is that possible you ask? Well, dear reader, anything is possible in blogdom, just as you are reading about this FUTURE dinner in the here and now.

Again, I digress. The table is set, drinks are ready in the solarium (I always wanted to use that word) and the chefs from the CIA are putting the final garnish on the soon to be served meal. No, no, no - not that CIA, I'm referring to the Culinary Institute of America in New York, home to many of the Cordon Bleu chefs inhabiting some of the finest restaurants in the world. No expense was spared for this dinner - even if the expense was entirely in virtual dollars.

First to arrive is BB. Dressed in fetching fatigues found only in the best of shops, BB enters my abode (for those of you educationally challenged that means house), doffs his beret and states "There are no Americans here. None! If there were, I'd tell you true and we would roast their stomachs in the fires of hell."

"Good entry BB" I think to myself.

Siggy (as those of us who know him best call the Herr Doktor Freud) comes in immediately following, dressed as befits a man-about-town in a heavy wool outfit complete with vest, tie, and fedora. He trails of course a cloud of smoke from one of his many cigars consumed that day or any other day. Siggy walks immediately to the bar and orders a 7% solution of Gin and Tonic (the tonic was the 7% - Siggy likes his booze). Siggy looks at BB and remarks "Herr BB, you're uttering profound untruths und it makes me think that you secretly wanted to marry your mother, a classic case of the Oedipal Complex." BB of course being less well educated and not understanding the reference states "The Kraut's have arrived." To which Siggy replies "I'm Austrian, but I'll let that pass for the nonce." BB, not knowing what the "nonce" means either just sits there; silent for once.

Wanting to stop the argument before it really has a chance to start, I bring out the cocktail peanuts and shove a few in BB's direction.

Ahh, I see our third guest, Nick Queen has arrived. (I can tell because his arrival causes a glow of light to diffuse around us all, bathing us with joy in his presence.

Nick is nattily attired in his nativist best consisting of light cotton shirt and slacks, suitable for travel, casual dining and impressing the heck out of all that see him. (Polo Shirt and Jeans but what the heck, I'm into the flattery at the moment.)

Nick notes "I'm the designated driver this evening, so I won't be drinking and besides I'll need my wits about me if I'm to bandy profundities in this crowd." Of course, we all applaud and cheer this pronouncement.

Nick sits with a tall glass of ginger ale and begins the evening's conversation. "I'd like to share with all of you my thoughts about why the judges that were picked for the King of the Blogs competition were picked." (Applause inserted here)

"First of all," he said, "I picked MRober from Ogre because he is not only brilliant at judging contests like these, but he is also willing to use that club he carries. Further, though he uses the club only to defend the American Way, he has this certain Irish waif appearance."

Of course, knowing the beauty of MRober's visage (View image) we readily agreed (we're not stupid you know.) Nick also said he picked Peitro from Smarter Cop certainly not from his visage, but from his staunch conservatism (read - highly intelligent) and smarts as depicted in his Einsteinein choice of Blogopoly game pieces (View image)

"Lastly (saving the best for last of course), I picked Songstress7 for her beauty, intelligence, forthrightness and charm. If you don't believe me, look here and be jealous of her soul mate (View image)."

BB, tired of not being the center of attention, remarked "Faltering forces of infidels cannot just enter a country of 26 million people and lay besiege to them! They are the ones who will find themselves under siege. Therefore, in reality whatever this miserable Rumsfeld has been saying, he was talking about his own forces. Now even the American command is under siege." To which Siggy remarked "Ach, Herr BB, zoze American's you disparage have already beaten the henchmen of der Fuhrer I mean der Saddam und haff captured him hiding in a hole in ze ground."

Looking totally non-plussed (would that be like minus? - ed. -- Would you hush, you're Roger Simon's muse, not mine!) BB rejoined with "Just look carefully, I only want you to look carefully. Do not repeat the lies of liars. Do not become like them. Once again, I blame Al-Jazeera before it ascertains what takes place. Please, make sure of what you say and do not play such a role."

I just looked at BB and wondered what on earth was I thinking of when I invited him to dine. Nick then capped off the evening with the best rejoinder of all, "BB, you obviously are the product of improper toilet training." To which Siggy replied "Ach, zat ist zo."

The rest of the evening went with more elevated and fanciful conversation, except for the phone call from American Warmonger during dessert, which of course I put on the speakerphone for all to hear. "George," said Jeremy "having had the persicapacity to go into the future and read what you would be writing for the "question" I can tell you here and now that your blog is the only one worthy of following in my footsteps. Therefore, by the power vested in me as a three times crowned King of the Blogs, I pass my Crown to you regardless of what the judges judge."

"Why thanks Mr. Bol," said I, "I'm deeply honored that you would think enough of this entry to take the time and effort to go into the future and make this pronouncement."

"Only one American Infidel gets it right." said BB.

"In the fullness of quality mental health and in the interest of passing from this sphere into the next I agree." said Siggy. Of course, many have had trouble figuring out what the heck the Good Herr Doktor means when he makes such statements.

"Do you have any Tumms?" said Nick.

Post Script: I have had fun with this contest, perhaps more fun than one is truly allowed on this earth. My best to the other contestants even though they don't deserve the crown and I do, and my best to the judges for their efforts, and of course to Nick, for bringing a needed bit of levity to the blogosphere which sometimes is far too serious. G'night!