Name:Harrison Location:United States

The Original Lovable Little Fuzzball

Here's the straight stuff.

The adventures of Harrison are true.
Try a few of his Crunchy Bites for a taste.
--Alpha Human Mom

Monday, November 21, 2005

Mainly Stupid Media

Usually I just ignore the talkin' heads on TV since they only repeat what their Demo-cat handlers tell 'em to and they're all as crooked as an alley cat's hind leg. We listen to the radio, not that it's much better. In fact, I doubt any of those media types have the sense God gave a flea. They did get the blood-suckin' viciousness, tho'. All 'n all, it's like watchin' a fe-lyin' chase its tail when they really get rollin'. Say the words "Valerie Plame" and you'll see what I mean.

Well, we so-called "dumb" animals have known the truth about the Mainly Stupid Media for years, with the exception of fe-lyings who'll cozy up to anyone who smells fishy. Then the other day AHM's friend reminded us that his "Uncle Tommy" created of one of the most famous animal media critics of the last 50 years. Francis.*

As written by David Stern III (who was himself a newspaper man with the New York Post and Philadelphia Daily News), Francis was an army mule--who could talk. He spent a lotta' time getting' Peter Stirling, his 2nd Lieutenant buddy, into and outta' trouble. Eventually the Commanding Office decides to call a press conference to break the news of Francis' talent to the correspondents coverin' the war. 'Course Francis wouldn't talk and the press was, to say the least, unimpressed. They shoulda' been warned, 'cause ya' know what they say about bein' kicked by a mule…

Mule"The [correspondents] wandered over to the mule, stood around looking at the animal…

A second AP man was looking at Francis. “You know,” he said, “one of the wildest aspects of
this damned story is that they didn’t pick a better-looking animal.

I [Peter] saw Francis’ ears begin to rise.

“Sorry-looking beast, isn’t it?” said the United Pressman. “Sort of a four-footed Sad Sack.”

Francis was as stiff as a board.

“Stinks, too,” said the first AP man.

“All mules stink,” said the New York Times man.

Francis was trembling.

“What I can’t understand,” said the International man, “is why they chose a mule for the stunt. Mules, you know, are the stupidest hybrids in existence.”

“Pathetic beasts of burden,” agreed the first AP man.

“But not dumb enough to work for a newspaper!” The words cracked out like whip snaps.

As one man the correspondents pivoted.

“Who said that?” asked the AP man.

“I did!” Francis was shaking with anger. “You want to make something of it?”

The newspapermen were speechless.

The mule fixed them with a glare. “I have listened to twaddle in my time,” said Francis. “I have heard more than my share of fool remarks! I have tuned in on radio commercials where men try to be funny about laxatives! I have heard the ravings of delirious men on the battlefield! There was a time when I endured the stupidity of half-baked recruits. But, by the tail of my great-aunt Regret who won the Derby, I have never suffered through such disgusting hogwash as you so-called newspapermen are spouting!”

Foreign correspondents are supposedly the most sophisticated of human beings. They have seen everything, heard everything, done everything…twice. To shock them takes some doing.

Francis did it.

All eight of the men stood rooted to the floor, their mouths hanging open like open bomb bays on a B-29.

“Gentlemen of the press!" spat Francis. “A hey nonny nonny and a nuts to you!”

“You can talk!” said the AP man in a whisper of awe.

“I hope to kiss a duck I can talk!” said Francis. “You just heard the general say I could talk. But oh no, you gentlemen of the press are too smart. You know everything. You even know about mules. Stink, do I!”

“Maybe we’re nuts?” said the New York Times man.

“No doubt about it,” said Francis. “A man with sense would never spend his life scrounging for a newspaper. What a stinking profession. And you had the nerve to suggest I stink!”

That pretty much sums it up.

*From Francis, copyright, David Stern III, New York, 1946.

posted by Harrison at 8:33 PM


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