What's Up, Docs?

Mom + Pop Culture are a couple of real characters. They could be you and me. Or not. Every so often, I eavesdrop on their conversations.

POP CULTURE: What’s new in the funny papers, Mom?

MOM CULTURE: I’m reading the news, not the comics.

POP: Like I said, what’s new in the funny papers.

MOM: The right aisle wants to legislate something called The Santos Clause.

POP: Oh, about that Pinocchio guy?

MOM: Yeah. Something about once you’re elected, anything not true about yourself that you might have said prior to election doesn’t count. Just get yourself elected before you are outed and – voila! – you’re free and clear. Moreover, the clause codifies the secular belief that lying is a victimless crime, not subject to religious morality, so let’s let bygones be bygones, forgive and forget, embellish or perish.??

POP: In other words, the tent is big enough for pathological liars to flourish and fan the flames of dishonesty.

MOM: And who, pray tell, decides who is or isn’t a pathological liar, The Truth Police?

POP: Of course not. The Prevaricator Police!

MOM: Oh, you and your fancy crossword vocabulary.

POP: That’s from Scrabble.?

MOM: Listen, Mr. Big Shot, now that your guy has been caught blue-handed hiding his own set of ultra-top secret, hermetically sealed documents, maybe I’ll bake you some Humble Pie so you can eat that along with your words.

POP: What words?

MOM: How my guy needs to be investigated for this and that. Now the foot’s in the other shoe. Between the two of them and their document fetish, we now have “Investigategate.”?

POP: Well, your guy is corrupt.

MOM: Your guy’s overgrown kid is corrupt. We’ll get to the bottom of that scandal soon enough, now that my guy’s guys and gals are in charge of the whole shooting match, big shot. Good luck facing the new sheriff in town!

POP: Oh, sure. You’re lapping up all that laptop looney-tune stuff now, aren’t you? Nothing to see there, I assure you.

MOM: Nothing to see? Only if Junior erased it all from the hard drive.

POP: You drive a hard bargain, Mom, but face it – your guy’s documents are way more classified than my guy’s docs.

MOM: Well my guy’s documents were fastened with a gold-plated paper clip, so at least he didn’t disrespect his documents by leaving them beside a cheesy Corvette.

POP: Right, because your guy doesn’t even drive himself. He probably didn’t even pass his driver’s test.

MOM: He’s too smart to have taken a driver’s test. He had someone take it for him.

POP: Sure. Just like he’s too smart to pay taxes.

MOM: That’s right. All the billionaire real estate developers can afford to hire tax geniuses. Your guy thinks a loophole is the place in a lapel where you stick a carnation.

POP: Your guy’s dyed comb-over is just another coverup.

MOM: Your guy’s hair plugs are a threat to national security and will be investigated forthwith by the hastily-formed Oversight Committee on Tonsorial Trickery.

POP: I don’t doubt it, especially if Charlie McCarthy has anything to say about it, because personal grooming is what matters to the average American.

MOM: His name is Kevin, by the way.

POP: Wake up and smell the Freedom Carcass, Mom. It’s Charlie McCarthy and there are 20 other Speakers of the House, who also answer to the name Edgar Bergen.

MOM: You’re just upset because my guys are about to clean your clock.

POP: (Yawning) Which reminds me, this is getting tiresome, Mom. Let’s play a new parlor game.

MOM: I’m game. How about we trash talk instead about the media?

POP: Or we can cut to the chase and just shoot fish in a barrel, but sure, why not.

POP: I’ll start. Can you guess the biggest part of this Santos business they all missed?

MOM: Sure I can. Just like they missed catching his lies until it was too late – after the vote left the dock.??

POP: And now they also are missing the real story – since he lies about everything that describes who he is, why would anybody think he’s telling the truth about which party he belongs to.

MOM: Exactly. Isn’t it obvious that he has all the makings of being a spy from the blue squad who is impersonating a red team member to make a point.

POP: Bingo! The point being?

MOM: Lie, and the world laughs with you.

POP: Yes, Mom, there is a Santos Clause.