The Loch Ness Monster and the Deep State

 

As a lifetime member of the Deep State, I find it amusing that right-wing politicos think, but don’t know, that we exist. Some will acknowledge our group by name with conviction, but it is obvious from their demeanor that they have no proof. As the emeritus chief of the Unicorn Division of the Deep State, I have access to their top-secret files. I have full knowledge of the clandestine GPS coordinates of all 46 known Big Foot (or should that be Big Feet) caves. I know the location of the 90’ white ash Keebler Elves Hollow Tree in Sylvan Glenn, near Lake Springfield. I personally know Ernest J. Keebler (Earnie to his friends) and a few of the others, namely Flo, Elmer, Buckets, Roger, Leonardo, Fast Eddie, Sam, Doc, Zack, Casey, Professor, and Zoot. I had a brief affair with Flo, the bakery accountant, back in the 70s. It was a short fling (pun intended) and it was probably all for the best that it ended when it did because Flo was later caught with fudge all over her little elfin Vienna Fingers.  And, yes, Jeff Sessions was a Keebler Elf, but was kicked out of the tree when he got too big for his britches.

 

 

 

When I started, we were just State. Area 51 was only 42 ½ at the time. It soon became clear that espionage, collusion, conspiracy, intrigue, cronyism, and dirty tricks, would require a bit of secrecy. Enter the Deep State. We made rapid advancements in the early days with the help of alien technology. The capture of one spacecraft and four aliens was a boon to our understanding of technology. They gave us Velcro, now how cool is that?

 

Entrance to the Deep State Headquarters near Area 51

 

Fear of the Deep State is its own tool. It’s like a fear of gravity in that you can’t see it, you know it exists, and realize it can hurt you, but only after you achieve some level of altitude. The higher you get in politics the more you fear the Deep State. But for those of you who might say the Deep State is a malevolent organization bent on mischief, I say balderdash. I’ve been writing for years and that is the first time I was able to use “balderdash” in a sentence with some sense of purpose. Who would Steve Bannon, Mick Mulvaney, and Donald Trump have that they could blame for their mistakes if it weren’t for the Deep State? We provide a public service, albeit an unwitting one.

 

Pardon Me but, Hang on to your Trump Card

 

We, in the Deep State, are unique in that we only have two letter initials to our name, DS, not to be confused with BS. We are like the Madonna, Pink, Sting, Cher, Charo, Beck, Enya, and Bono, of the espionage world. All other agencies are required to have the full compliment of three letters like CIA, FBI, NRO, NSA, DOD, DHS, DEA, DOE, and CID. The thought that we are a network of entrenched government officials who function independently from elected politicians and work toward our own ends, is preposterous. When have you ever known government officials to function at all?

 

Membership in the Deep State has provided me with an enhanced outlook of life on our planet. I know that the Tooth Fairy is actually Flo (aka Stephanie Courtney). The Tooth Fairy Flo should not be confused with Keebler Elf Flo. Tooth Fairy Flo is much taller. She sells the baby teeth she collects as the Tooth Fairy, on the black market as ivory. I know she is a Republican because she works for PROGRESSIVE (insurance) Corporation as a double agent. I know the Easter Bunny never existed because rabbits don’t lay colored eggs and most of them can’t paint.  I know the main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live.  I know that the Loch Ness Monster summers in Barbados and loves his Piña Coladas.

 

Nessie at the beach in Barbados

 

For fellow Deep Staters, remember to get your bus tickets early for Georgia’s January 5th senate runoff. You must bring different colored pens to fill out all those fake ballots and if you are bringing dead people with you to vote, make sure you have the correct spelling of their names. If we can’t steal this election properly, we might as well stay home.

 

I loved my active-duty time in the Deep State but now I must get back to my day job of Cat Behavior Consultant and part-time exorcist. Now that Trump is on his way out, I feel I can breathe a sigh of relief through my face mask. But, as we enter this Post-Trump phase, remember the wise words of George Carlin, “Just because you got the monkey off your back doesn’t mean the circus has left town.”

 

The Circus is Still in Town