Friday, February 6, 2009

Pimpin’ Pollack Painting: A Modest Proposal for Sen. McCoy

Once again, Iowa Lawmakers are toying with the idea of prostituting Jackson Pollack’s “Mural” painting in exchange for cash to help pay for damages incurred by last summer’s flood on the University of Iowa campus. Sen. Matt McCoy, the new Fine Arts Pimp on the Block, proposed selling the painting “to help students mired in the state’s economic crisis.”

The Real McCoy: "Pssssst. Hey, buddy. Looking for some company? How 'bout a wall-sized Jackson Pollack painting to keep you comapny for the next hour?"

Beside the fact that proceeds from such a sale can only be used to buy more art and not directly help struggling students and recent college graduates, McCoy’s rationale for pimpin’ da Pollack painting drips with logical fallacies:

“If the college believes that owning up to a $200 million painting is more important than keeping tuition low they’ll continue to retain it,” McCoy said. “If they decide keeping tuition low and helping students find a job in the toughest economic downturn since the great Depression is more important, then sell it.”

Can you say ‘appeal to pity’ and ‘if…then’ fallacy? I knew you could.

Using this same logic, one could just as easily insert the following, replacing Pollack’s paining, to get the desired effect:

1. Des Moines Art Museum (completely furnished of course)

2. The South Side of Des Moines (sell off, including McCoy’s crib, and make own profitable municipality)

3. Terrace Hill Mansion (completely furnished as well; Culver family extra)

4. The State Capital Building and grounds (Do they really need all that room to get nothing done?)

5. The Golden Dome atop the State Capital Building

6. Western half of Iowa (sell to Nebraska; no extra charge for Rep. Steve King)

Of course, if we really cared about our college students and their futures, all of these items should be on the table.

Moreover, if Sen. McCoy is genuinely concerned about their economic woes and would like to jumpstart the sacrificing process, I propose he throw in his first-born child to sweeten the pot, hence:



IT IS a melancholy object to those who walk through Iowa City when they see the streets littered with college students, who spent the rest of their tuition money on another all-night Thirsty Thursday booze binge. But not all college students and recently graduating students, who are currently frictionally unemployed, are to blame for the skyrocketing tuition costs exacerbated by the current economic downturn and last year’s deluge in Iowa City. These students, instead of being able to attend college or find gainful employment to ensure an honest livelihood are forced to employ all their time begging for coin to fund their binges.

To end this scourge on society, I propose a top-down economic solution, wherein the top financial rung of society, including all lawmakers, sacrifice their first-born child, which will be auctioned off to the public to the highest bidder. Proceeds from these sales will be used to replenish state coffers and funding mechanisms directly used to finance the education of all prospective college students in the state of Iowa, thus alleviating the burden to parents and lawmakers, the latter of which lack imagination and/or foresight.

Disclaimer: In no way does Political Fallout endorse human trafficking and/or the decapitation of golden domes. The proposal, albeit modest, should hopefully serve as a mere deterrent to future proposed prostitutions of the fine arts. After all, it worked in the film, “Blues Brothers,” when Jake, who on a mission from God, crashed a fellow band members fine-dining establishments and used similar implicit threats to convince a him to join the band.
God's Minions: Elwood & Jake

Jake to father at nearby table: “How much for the little girl? How much for the women? Your women. I want to buy your women. The little girl, your daughters... sell them to me. Sell me your children.”

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The Stimulus-Plan Dating Game: How Big is Your Package?

This week “The Stimulus Plan Dating Game” hits the Senate floor for another rousing round of monetary courtship between We the Taxpayers and our three contestants, who are vying to lay claim to the Taxpayer’s Mega- Jackpot.

Before we begin, let’s meet our three contestants:

Contestant No. 1: Like most American Taxpayers, Contestant No. 1 started his illustrious career with good intentions, lobbying on behalf of responsible corporations in D.C while simultaneously moonlighting as an ACLU lawyer. Once swallowed by the D.C. political culture, Contestant No. 1 had no chance of escaping the abyss of greed, unless he was vomited from the underbelly of Greed’s stomach – which coincidentally brings Contestant No. 1 here today.


Contestant No. 2: Discovered burning a hole in a pocketbook near you, our second contestant takes pride in his elasticity skills and ability to help Americans slide headfirst into Bankruptcy.


Contestant No. 3: Although unborn, our final contestant has a great deal at stake here today, since the ultimate burden of this week’s Mega-Jackpot will fall on his or her shoulders. Due to communication issues, Contestant No. 3’s responses have been recorded by an ultrasound machine, which translates the sonic airwaves into English.

Without further adieu, let’s begin our first round of The Stimulus-Plan Dating Game:

We the Taxpayers: Contestant No. 1, if you were an economic stimulus plan, describe to me what our first date would look like.

Contestant No. 1: First, I would pick you up in our company’s private jet, hybrid of course, and fly you to an undisclosed location in the Cayman Islands, where I would wine and dine you with the best that American money can buy. After dinner, we would enjoy side-by-side Swedish Massages, during which you would tell me about all the dream legislation you would like to see Congress enact – with your name on it, of course. Exhausted from looking so deeply into your eyes and pretending to care, we would head back to our own rental island for a nightcap and romantic evening as I try to lobby you into bed.

We the Taxpayers: Wow, Contestant No. 1, you really know how to treat a Taxpayer. So I take it we’ll be going Dutch? (laughs at own joke as audience joins in, laughing at own expense) The same question goes to you Contestant No. 2.

Contestant No. 2: Let’s just say if you choose me, the sky’s the limit with your credit line. And no more annoying late fees, if you know what I mean (winks at audience, which takes cue and laughs). As if you had rubbed a bottle and wished for me to come out and sweep you off your feet, I will slide into your life and pick you up for a magic credit card ride. Unlike Contestant No. 1, I will let you decide where our magic credit card takes us. With me, you can charge your dreams and watch all your worries slip into the next Congressional Bailout.

We the Taxpayers: Sounds great, but unfortunately I am afraid of heights --- (pauses for comedic effect) -- high Annual Percentage Rates that is (laughs at own joke as audience joins in). Contestant No. 3, since you haven’t been born yet and the thought of talking to an incubator over dinner and conversation sounds a little embarrassing, I will ask you a different question. If my eyes were matching crystal balls and you looked into them, what type of future do you see for us in, say 40 years?

Contestant No. 3: (through translator) I see China. Everyone on earth speaks freakin’ Chinese, including you and me and this ultrasound Speak-Easy you sick bastards have jammed down my throat. I hope I’m never born, and if I am, I swear to God I will be a Libertarian.

We the Taxpayers: Wow, so young, yet so cynical Contestant No. 3. I think somebody needs an infusion of Hope (laughs at attempt to make joke).

Thus ends the first round of The Stimulus Plan Dating Game. Tune in for the next round to see who indeed has the biggest package? (laugh track here)

Originally posted on sister site Say Something Funny