July 28, 2017
Elementary Syndicate
The English, who have never been known to spare the rod, have discovered a creative new way to inspire discipline and right-thinking in their young. And this one doesn't leave marks! This one aims for the soul! A cunning new invention that bears the mark of Lucifer.
According to The Sun the East London town council "reduced a five-year-old girl to tears by shutting down her homemade lemonade stall." Because she was operating it without a permit
The child was confused, pleading that she got permission from her mommy and daddy and answers to only one other higher power. And that's not the local magistrates.
Her father, an academic at a local university, was heard to describe the joy his daughter was spreading, saying “people were so happy, they thought she was so cute and called her a ‘little grafter’".Oh my. The Little Grafter. Sounds more like a godfather than a granddaughter.
The loose-lipped dad went on to exclaim "“She started screaming and crying. She sobbed all the way home and was telling me: ‘Dad, I’ve done a bad thing’.” Didn't Francis Ford Coppola have a scene like that? Indeed, once the girl had settled down enough to enunciate, this exchange was heard to pass between her and her father:
Kid: "I spent my life protecting my stand. I spent my life protecting my lemons!"
Teach: "Let's be reasonable here, kid. I mean, that's your big thing, isn't it? Reason backed up by mayhem.".
Kid: "Oh, God, you hate me. You hate me."
Teach: "No, I don't hate you, dear. I dread you."
This led to another fit, stand altogether unside down, lemons rolling helter-skelter down the street, pitcher tumbled, changed scattered akimbo. A real goddamn mess.
There have been murmers in the streets of London about a lemonade syndicate led by crazed citrus zealots motivated by raw greed and devotion to Dr. Oz's latest vitamen C skam. Dr. Oz has a long reach, beckoning from across the sea with promises of everlasting youth and untold rices;,drawing the innocent into this evil conspiracy of otherwise innocent purveyers of refreshing beverages.
You can't blame the kids. They're victims too. They become zombified by Oz's spell, which is amplified by his pentrating, strange gaze. The guy is a 21st century Svengali. Our poor English lemondade sales girl, sobbing gently, was finally persuaded by her father to abandon the business. But, sadly, she caught an episode of that damn Oz on afternoon TV. The last words she was heard to utter to her father were:
Kid: "Just when I thought I was out . . . they pull me back in!”
What can be done to intervene and spare these children of a grim future:
