Cripes. This is turning into a week-long project. I'm not one to complain about free blog material, however, and I think my exuberance is self-evident. Today I'm only posting one question and answer because I think that's all you can handle. Or maybe that's all I can handle. And how about that Mongoliangirl, huh? She sure does her research (Why is it called research? Shouldn't it be called presearch? You're not doing it again, after all.)
I think that post about generating a coup against the Mexican government and using Sammy Hagar as your sidekick is a blast! If you were going to generate a coup against an organization local to where you live, what organization would it be? And, most importantly, would you let me show up as your Sammy Hagar sidekick and sing Amazing Grace?
That is my favorite post! I’m glad you found it. Strangely, that’s probably the only piece like that I’ve done on this blog. I think maybe the fact that it only garnered five unique comments has something to do with it.
If, rather than leading the mop-haired former Van Halen lead singer and a gang of dishwashers south to topple Mexico, I instead had to head up a coup against a local entity, I’d naturally want to choose the biggest, most important and powerful target there is. The TVA must be stopped. The largest public utility in the nation, the Tennessee Valley Authority has lorded over parts of seven states since 1933. As described by Wikipedia, “It is a political entity with a territory the size of a major state, and with some state powers (such as eminent domain), but unlike a state, it has no citizenry or elected officials.” Sounds ripe for the picking.
I and a ragtag bunch of well-armed blue-collar South Knoxvillians will storm across the Henley and Gay Street bridges, first securing and barricading the government buildings and police station to minimize any potential opposition. Then, our forces swelling with the galvanized additions of the yuppie occupants of downtown condos (our version of the cavalry, they’ll be mounted on high-end carbon fiber road bikes, infants strapped in baby carriers on their backs wielding in their tiny hands a lethal assortment of never-used German cutlery pressed into service after years of sitting idly on granite countertops), we will stream through Market Square as a mob unified in our anger over the status quo and surround the twin ivory towers of the TVA, the seat of power, where Mongoliangirl will bolster our confidence with a moving a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace.
Our determination will be such that the suits can do little to resist and we will quickly overrun each and every floor of the two buildings. Removing the bigwigs from their corner offices, we will install in their places the hippie kids that work at the Tomato Head down on Market Square, because if we’re going to trust any non-elected official with eminent domain, I’d rather it be someone who shops at a co-op than a guy who gets his clothes at Brooks Brothers. So the kids in ironic t-shirts will be calling the shots from now on and, sitting down for a beer and a vegetarian burrito at Tomato Head, don’t be surprised if your server is an older gentleman who doesn’t look altogether comfortable in his Chuck Taylors and skinny jeans. If you’re looking for any investment tips, though, he’s the guy to ask.
And when I get back to my apartment on the other side of the river after our fun day of semi-violent overthrow (we threatened, but there was no bloodshed), I will be surprised that the lights no longer work. Maybe I didn’t think this through.
To be continued...