Kermit the Frog
Source: Bigstock
The Week’s Most Kermit the Frog, Biden’s Mental Fog, and Spicy Mexican Log Headlines
MUPPET GOVERNMENT
Do you remember the old 1980s Muppet Babies cartoon, featuring the animated adventures of baby incarnations of Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Animal, et al.? One man with unexpectedly fond vestigial memories of the show is Gonzo Russian strongman Vladimir Putin, who is inordinately fond of accusing Western leaders of being puppets of Satan, the Nazis, the queers, or the globalists, depending on which particular audience he is addressing at any given time.
With this in mind, the Kremlin is due to broadcast a new Russian kids’ TV propaganda show called Sandpit, featuring cutesified, Muppet Baby-like CGI-generated baby versions of various world leaders squabbling childishly among themselves during shared online conferencing software sessions. Every episode is carefully designed to “instill patriotism from an early age” and teach preschool viewers how to “discuss geopolitics”—i.e., very carefully indeed, otherwise Putin will throw them all into prison, 4 years old or not.
The series compares international power relations to nursery-age squabbles over toy spades in a sandbox; mass graves don’t dig themselves in Ukraine, you know. Naturally, every week Vlad wins the latest argument against his weakling foreign opponents, as signified by him being dressed in a miniature black-belt judo suit, accompanied by a fierce-looking Russian teddy bear leering into his webcam. Other online chatters include Donald Trump, Emmanuel Macron, and Kim Jong-un. American politics’ most experienced e-communications participant of note, Anthony Weiner, has not been allowed to appear himself, however, due to the precise nature of his previous convictions.
“Speaking from one semiaquatic creature to another, former Olympic swimmer Riley Gaines wanted Kermit the Frog to know he was nothing but the frogspawn of the Devil.”
Each CGI Muppet is a stereotype of his real, offscreen, fully grown self. Putin is an all-wise warrior-monk who looks strangely like Gollum, and Lil’ Kim enjoys playing carelessly with toy rockets. Best of all, Macron is depicted as a softie Gallic gayboy, whose participation in plenary sessions is habitually derailed by the presence of his much older “granny” babysitter, Brigitte, whose hectoring offscreen tones can be heard telling him to turn his computer off and get back to his adult-assigned coloring-in crayon tasks and educational jigsaws. If he disobeys, one would assume she slaps him.
And as for Donald Trump? Wailing, infantile, unable to read, with poor impulse-management skills and bladder control, and a gnat-like attention span every bit as undersize as his tiny, tiny hands, it will be interesting to see how the president is depicted as a baby, too.
CROAKY SPEECH
Another Muppet who has been dipping his webbed toes into politics of late is Kermit the Frog, who was invited to give a graduation speech to the assembled student body of the University of Maryland, in which, perhaps unsurprisingly for one so Green, Kermit turned out to be a Communist, all too happy to abuse his platform to rain shit on Western industro-capitalism. “As you prepare to take this big leap into real life,” Kermit ranted like Lenin from his podium, “here’s a little advice—if you’re willing to listen to a frog.” Just so long as said frog wasn’t Pepe, it transpired the answer was yes.
“Rather than jumping over someone to get what you want, consider reaching out your hand and taking the leap side by side, because life is better when we leap together,” Kermit lectured. He explained how, “out in the swamp” where he was born, he had a cousin who would hop on poor young Kermit’s head “like a lily pad” as “a stepping stone to get ahead.” False-consciousness-ridden capitalist tutors had no doubt told the students “that’s how you succeed [in life], and some choose to believe it, but I know it’s wrong.”
“Seize the means of production!” Kermit then screamed. “Buy from the boss class the ropes we shall hang them with!” As radicalized student Red Guards went on the rampage, beating, raping, and murdering those who only five minutes beforehand had been their own tutors and lecturers, the entire Maryland faculty staff began to realize that the speech, which they had intended as a mere jokey tribute to the original creator of The Muppet Show Jim Henson, one of the university’s most noted prior alumni, had begun to go horribly wrong.
“Dismantle whiteness in the name of greenness!” Kommissar Kermit continued, before suddenly donning a keffiyeh, producing a machine gun, and leading the crowd in a mass chant of “Kill the Boer!” At this point, one member of the crowd misunderstood and immediately stuck a pickax into the skull of Kermit’s fellow bystanding revolutionary Fozzie.
Hoping to regain control of the internecine bloodshed he had unleashed, in solemn honor of Pride Month, and as a former transitioner himself (from original miserable cis-tadpole to later-life joyful frog-gender), Kermit brought his rally to an end by singing an approved Party song named “Rainbow Connection,” while emoting that “My whole life I have tried to accept people for who they are.” Except Kulaks and Wreckers, obviously.
Watching appalled from afar, Riley Gaines, the Olympic swimmer turned anti-trans activist and conservative commentator, told Fox News that Kermit’s entire speech was “unserious” and “insulting” to the intelligence of the listening scholars.
Speaking from one semiaquatic creature to another, Gaines wanted Kermit to know he was nothing but the frogspawn of the Devil: “Imagine being a 22-year-old student who’s graduating with a degree in aerospace engineering, and a frog from The Muppets is telling you to ‘stay connected with your people.’” Quite right. They should have gotten someone with some genuine academic and scientific gravitas to address the crowd instead, like Count von Count or Dr. Bunsen Honeydew.
ATTACK OF THE APPROXIMATELY FIFTY-FOOT WOMAN
From a Colossus of Toads to a Colossus of Roads: A gigantic, 47-foot-tall statue of a naked female human-thing has been newly erected in San Francisco, in the hope of enticing passing motorists to stop off and spend their valuable tourist dollars in the area, which is suffering from a terminal decline in population and visitor numbers.
Intended as a purely temporary resident—many citizens of San Fran are these days, the place by all accounts having become a total train wreck under years of far-left Democrat rule—the wire-woven woman is named R-Evolution and weighs some 32,000 pounds, just a little under half a Lizzo. For a single hour every evening, an array of special electronics in R-Evolution’s rib cage simulates her breathing so as to fool everyone watching into thinking the figure may just be alive, much as Jill Biden did with the corpse of her husband over the past half decade.
R-Evolution is advertised as some vague statement of empowerment for women but was actually created by a 63-year-old man named Marco Cochrane, who explained his profound female-friendly qualifications thus: “My mother was a feminist.” What if his dad was a misogynist?
As R-Evolution is every bit as nude as a shaven she-ape, has big fat tits and a huge winking anus, and stands with her legs spread in such a fashion as to allow a passing gynecologist to reliably diagnose a case of endometriosis just by craning his neck back, the statue has been decried as quasi-pornographic by some observers. Comments from the general passing California public suggest most would tend to agree, consciously or otherwise.
“There’s just a lot of anatomical detail that is more accurate than I would have expected,” said one close examiner. In which particular area? A 75-year-old grandmother was less impressed, complaining she’d “rather show my grandkids art they could interact with.” Maybe they could, if they had a big ladder.
Worst of all, special wheel-obstructing rivets needed to be installed beneath the colossus’ spread-kneed girth in order “to discourage skaters from doing tricks between her legs.”
Well, this is San Francisco, after all.
TURD WORLD MIGRANTS
While R-Evolution might be able to breathe, at least she doesn’t have a fully functioning giantess excretory system—the Golden-Brown State of California is already struggling to cope with a newfound excess of scatological substances stinking the place up as it is.
The problem, as so often in life, originates in Mexico, specifically Tijuana, a city known as “Mexico’s toilet,” a significant achievement in a nation that is, in and of itself, one giant toilet. The shitty city has exploded in size since the 1990s, but the local sewer system has not, causing a genuine cross-border political logjam as huge amounts of recycled tequila and beans spill out into the nearby river system, then the ocean, and then wash up downstream at a very unfortunate seafront town in California just south of San Diego called Imperial Beach. If you thought the torrents of human turds crossing the border were bad enough, wait until you see the actual turd turds that come out of them beforehand.
Flooded with billions of gallons of raw sewage, Imperial Beach is now so polluted that the very air itself has become impossible to breathe, even for 47-foot-tall animated porn statues who only have to engage in the activity for a single hour per day. Residents are suffering mass illnesses, from E. coli epidemics to chronic lung conditions. Spray from the sea gets in residents’ eyes, noses, mouths, and ears, except what is being sprayed inside them is definitely not the usual salt water.
But, among all this environmental and health tragedy, a new and supposedly unsolvable “mystery” has now arisen. According to the baffled testimony of apparently cognitively impaired locals, “Every night, somewhere between midnight and 2 a.m., the city is enveloped by a strong smell” that resembles “rotten eggs” with “a bitter chemical tang”—yet nobody there, neither ordinary resident nor qualified public official, knows what it is.
Shit. It’s shit, isn’t it? It’s Mexican people’s shit.
Given the incredibly self-evident indication of this obvious fact detailed above, how can the people of Imperial Beach not know the answer to this “mystery”? Maybe, having been sprayed in the ear one too many times by the beachfront “seawater,” the locals really do now have shit for brains.
COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET…EVENTUALLY
While President Trump has promised to force environmental officials to stick their dirty little noses deep into the ultimate source of all the olfactory unpleasantness at Imperial Beach, it would have been little use appealing to the previous potty-using POTUS for help, as Joe Biden reputedly used to be so slack-boweled and loose-bladdered that he was forced to wear an adult diaper. If Geriatric Joe had ever gone on an official walkabout along the horribly spicy sands down-current of Tijuana, he may only have begun involuntarily adding to the whole problem.
Then again, if he had gone shuffling around there unsupervised, Biden may simply have gotten lost. According to the new testimony of a Secret Service whistleblower, while bravely trying to dress himself without any assistance, the shaky pseudo-president would get so confused inside his walk-in closet while choosing what shirt, tie, and diaper to wear that day that he ended up completely unable to find the exit door.
Republican House Oversight Committee Chairman James Comer was so concerned that Biden spent most of his time in “power” in a semi-vegetative state akin to James’ own surname that he is now holding an investigation into whether or not aides simply used a special autopen device to forge Biden’s signature on formal White House directives and pardons without Joe even knowing.
So, for four long, disastrous years, the most powerful nation on earth was led by what basically amounted to a puppet. How long before Biden too is asked to give an actor-ventriloquized speech at Maryland University, to help raise graduates’ future ambitions in life?
Forget Kermit; if a Muppet like that can become president, so can anyone.