the Speaking Canine To Power edition

NF, One L
Issue #23

1. Yeah, gotta be honest, I've about had it.

2. What, all y'all are cool with people being tackled and cuffed in the streets by masked jerkoffs who are not police, who get paid by the body and are guilty of their own varying criminality, and then cramming HUMAN BEINGS into detention centers with no due process or communication or explanation and treated like factory meat, like, ahem, ANIMALS, and then shipped to countries with dictatorial governments for cash money, or even worse, Florida.

3. Places that are paid to look the other way by our autocratic theocracy, these poor people lost or forgotten in medieval prisons, who are not "the worst of the worst", because those (dog-whistle) thugs are actually too dangerous to approach by the fake/coward acronym, so they concentrate on low level non-criminal workers, many in the process of figuring out our arcane legal immigration bureaucracy and no threat to any of you except as it may affect the freshness of your arugula side salad at your favorite little brunch place downtown.

4. You okay with that?

5. No, dude, it's a serious question. Like, you okay with waking up every day, just going ahead and living your own life, while people trying to likewise live their own, or at least find a better one, exactly as your lice-ridden, poxed and jobless Euro grandparents did, are shackled in the streets like a documentary about 1939 Poland, but hey, no sweat, just click the channel, someone else will figure it out.

6. Listen, I'm just a dog. My fellow canines and I basically OWNED your woods for millennia as highly intelligent undomesticated lupines, but yeah, like Japan after The Big One, we made a deal with Devil America and gave up our military ambitions and our feral killing instincts, and moved on into the caves with y'all for warmth, comfort, and pork-based snacks, and now, here I am, all 22 pounds of me with hypoallergenic fur and a special diet and two thyroid pills a day, and I'm about as dangerous as a wet bag of socks. 

7. But deep inside, you crazy hairless bi-peds, I remember my genetic and neurological lineage, the days of running in packs and hunting antelope and putting THE FEAR into man, especially in THE DARK.

8. And so, as a former ruler of THE DARK, I say if you're okay with the country that your Combover Ape is presently building, which is to say destroying, you're a fraud and a disgrace to your Sapient line, and, hate to say it but it's true, the only thing you're good for is following around after me with a pink leash and a green compostable baggie and picking up my shit.

9. Morons.