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by Hénock Gugsa
Thirty years! Has it been that long? Thirty long years! I’ve been gone ... and I've been hibernating for thirty years! And now I’ve awoken, and I’m back down here visiting my cousin Sam. This neighborhood sure has changed a lot, and the humans that used to run it have undergone some kind of morphosis. It seems that, for some obscure reason, the Pachydermean party is now insanely committed to self-destruction. Their total downfall is without doubt imminent and irreversible.
Sam finds a lot to worry about, especially about his neighborhood. But it all suits him just fine. Always scowly and cantankerous, he has hardly changed at all except for a few new facial tics, mostly around his mouth. His whiskers now have an unfamiliar jitter, and I find them quite disconcerting.
When I walked into his living room, Sam did not even bother to get up off his rocking chair and shake my paw. He merely nodded and said, “Hello, Rupert. Whatcha up to? Been drinking from a Van Winkle well, eh? You’ve outdone the old dutchman though, haven’t you?!”
But, this ribbing didn’t bother me too much. He was never very well-mannered anyways. And besides, all the folks down here act kind of crazy one way or another, not like us up north where the long winters have made us more temperate and considerate.
After a while, I was sitting by Sam’s side and chewing the fat with him. I asked how he was doing in the never-ending task of food-hoarding. He said that there was no problem there, Mother Nature has always been very generous. It was the humans that were worrying him. He said that he was deathly afraid of the pachyderms in particular. They are getting more and more rabid, he further proclaimed. Then, he began to give a detailed account of the state of things in Samlandia ....
Barely two weeks ago, Doug, the pachyderm who lived two blocks away, had shot and killed two of Sam’s friends, Peetie and Pearl. The reason – It seems Doug was upset when he found out they had made their domicile under the hood of his old Ford pickup truck. He flew into a rage at what he considered an unforgivable encroachment on his property. It did not matter that the old truck had been sitting in his driveway for the last three years … out of commission and just rusting away. But Sam knew the real cause for Doug’s psychotic episode.
Now, to be sure, my cousin Sam's home was on a sturdy, well-hidden tree limb a safe distance away from the aforementioned tragic site. But all the same, Sam had always been leery of Doug, and watched the old curmudgeon very closely but from afar. He observed that Doug constantly listened to and watched the raving pachyderm lunatics on the radio and the television. Doug worshiped Annie C, Rush, Hannity, O'Reilly, and Savage.
Strangely, the lies, the hate, and the anger that were being avidly received in Doug’s house were actually the norm in many households in the neighborhood. That may explain why the pachyderms, although recently dethroned, still have considerable clout in Samlandia. They are peerless and tireless in distorting and denying truth and fairness. Their negativity knows no bounds, and they seem to always be in a huffy state of anger and disaffection. In short, they are a depressing lot.
What riles and intrigues Sam the most is that he cannot fathom the sense or motivating force behind the pachyderms’ behavior in all matters politique. How long can they subvert and circumvent long-term measures for the common good with obvious lies about laissez-faire, go-it-alone, individual rapaciousness? And yet, Sam observed, the pachyderms were never satisfied even when they were in power. And when they brag about their former leader, Ronaldo, they conveniently forget that he started a trend for reckless spending and military adventures. Fortunately, soon after that, the mordicant Guillermo ascended to power and straightened out all of that mess. But, that did not last long. Jorge, one of the worst pachyderms in Samlandia’s history, took over for the next eight years. He had this thing for compassion ... er, compassion for the rich and greedy, that is. During his reign, everything that could go wrong did, and the pachyderms suddenly started burying their heads under the sand. They claimed everything was hunky-dory and whatever went wrong was Guillermo’s and the mordicants’ fault. And now at long last, the pachyderms have easily achieved the unimaginable … they have started to believe their own lies!
As Sam recounted all of this, my head was reeling with disbelief and despair. Although my home is Mooselandia, I have always had a lot of fondness for Samlandia. Also I have a lot of kinfolk down here. However, unlike Sam, most of them, I’m sad to say, are pachyderm cheerleaders. Too bad. They must not have heard about Peetie and Pearl!
Zounds! I've had enough of this melancholia. So I quickly get up off the wicker chair and gather up my knapsack. “I’m going back to my beloved Mooselandia,” I declare with indignation in my voice.
“I think you should come up north with me, Sam. You can make as good a living there if you want. Civilized society up there for sure.”
“No, thanks,” says Sam. “I’m not giving these jerks that satisfaction. I’m gonna stick it out to the end! They’re gonna sink from their own weight soon, mark my words. And, I'm sure glad they haven't yet taken a contract out on Samlandia like they did back in '94!” He winces and sighs undramatically.
Anon, he gets up off his chair and gives me a warm hug. No real surprise there. I’ve always known that, deep down, Sam was always a softie!
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*"The Pachyderms’ Demise " ~ © Hénock Gugsa (ሄኖክ ጉግሣ ) - 03/29/2010
