Posted on 09/08/2002 5:42:10 AM PDT by Clive
BABOONS in a troubled central African country have taken to stealing food from starving villagers. They are said to be particularly fond of goats, chickens and vegetables, cooked with or without dovi.
The baboons said they got the idea when they saw food supplies were dwindling, and after they had heard an almost most equal of all comrades say that it was possible, and indeed advisable, to vote a baboon into parliament if told to do so by the ruling Zany Party. “While no one actually voted for a baboon, it seems that the possibility of this happening surely makes the possibility of food aid a reality too,” said a spokesman for the baboon community. “After all, having been ruled eligible for parliament, we must surely be citizens—and as citizens, we’re entitled to food.”
When Over The Top pointed out to the baboon spokesman that the almost most equal of all comrades was probably being ironic, the baboon replied that he did not know the meaning of ironic and, anyway, he had heard that another now forgotten member of the Zany party from the western side of the troubled central African country had lamented that people would rather have voted for a donkey than for him—such was the unpopularity of the Zany party in those parts. “As everyone knows a donkey couldn’t possibly manage a reasoned argument, even in parliament. This struck our small baboon community as particularly stupid and not a little insulting,” said the baboon.
OTT said that might be true, but looting food was not the same as receiving food aid. It was explained to the baboon (a slow process) that food aid meant queuing for long hours, and sometimes days, in a hot and inconvenient place while waiting for the food to arrive. After that, and given that a Zany party card could be produced, a small bag of maize meal would be handed over to the recipient. It was important to hand the official the correct party card, because the incorrect party card would ensure the hopeful recipient a sharp smack across the back of the head with a rifle butt.
The baboon spokesman said this was all very well, but his people had adopted the Ugandan model of No Party Politics, largely because baboons possessed no pockets in which to keep party cards, still less the mental retentive skills to remember which party card to produce on which occasion.
He said he had noticed that all humans of his acquaintance kept two different party cards, one which was produced to people in uniform or people with guns, the was produced in the dead of night at strange and secret meetings about matters he did not fully understand.
Despite this, the baboon spokesman insisted that he remained unconvinced about the business of queuing for food aid. He had, he said, several cousins over the hills who had witnessed first hand (he showed his foot) hundreds of humans driving away cattle and stealing fruit from farms for their own home consumption.
A fruitless discussion ensued in which the baboon was quite unable to understand the distinction between looting from landless peasants (baboon-style looting) and looting from farmers. In the end, the baboon was told that it was simply a matter of fact that the one was unacceptable behaviour punishable by death, while the other was acceptable behaviour rewarded by a lucrative position in the party. Eventually the baboon grasped the simple tenet of law in the troubled central African country and asked where he could get a party card. It then had to be explained to him that, as a member of a minority group, he was not entitled to a party card because he was an enemy of the state — unless he was voted into parliament, in which case he was a revolutionary hero.
George, a Babboon, is sitting in a marula tree ( this is a type of South African fuit, which they make a delicious fermented drink from, and which animals get drunk eating ), and below him, sits Simba, the lion ... the king of all beasts. George takes it into his head to throw a marula at Simba and beans him, waking up the king of the jungle. Simba wakems, growls, looks around and then dozes off again. Laughing, Gerorge throws another marual at Simba ... BONK ... hitting him in the head again. Simba is VERY angry this time, and snarls : " Don't you dare do that again ! ". George , laughing hysterically, grabs another marula and bounches it off Simba's head ... again.
With that, Simba gets up, looks up into the tree, and says : If you hit me in the head , again, I'll bit your head or your tail off !!!!!!!! " George figures that he's safe, up high in the marula tree, wiggles down a skinny branch, grabs the last marula, flings it at Simba's head, hits him, and then crashes to the earth, as the branch snaps.
Simba , his glorious mane dripping with marula juice and pieces of fruit, lungs at and captures George in his gigantic clawed paws. " Now I have you, you miserable babboon. Which should I bit off ... you head or your tail ?"
" My head ; please ", replies George. " Why your head ?, Simba asked , " If I bite off your head, you'll die ! "
" Because, Simba ", said George, " if you bite off my tail, I'll look like like Robert Mugabe and I'd rather be dead ." answered Geroge.
I have cleaned this up, somewhat. :-)
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