00h UTC; SATURDAY, 19 JANUARY 2013: Your Correspondent, having noticed the lead-off image for today's post in the Facebook presence for Moxie, a sui generis among soft drinks peculiar to New England especially, couldn't help but be inspired at the potential for such a Horsemobile (as Moxie called such promotional vehicles in their heyday of the 1920's) being driven around in a YouTube-model video scored to the very strains of the Third Movement of Rossini's "William Tell Overture" (as used in radio and television versions of The Lone Ranger as its theme music, for those unaware of the fact) driven at high speed around the country, the driver looking as if he's on amphetamines while driving around in a state of hyperactive fanaticism ... yet, as the end approaches, to make the whole look a little more interesting, cut in one of those Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote chase sequences to the point where Wile E., facing another attempt at dinner athwart and frustrated in the bargain, stands in the middle of the road as the Horsemobile speeds onward towards certain doom.

Gradually, as the theme winds down, we can see Wile E. "himself" getting that "deer-caught-in-headlights" look in the eyes as the camera pulls in all the more on his face--and just before the last note plays up, to spare the easily-offended brand of viewer further humiliation, the whole quickly cuts to a classic specimen of Radio Luxembourg/RTL 208 jingle in sound (the screen being blank throughout, and the clip being chosen at random depending on the mood of the hour). That alone will certainly catch dozing viewers by surprise!

Meanwhile, for those of you insisting on "Buying AmeriKKKan" out of Patriotic Duty and Love of Our Dear Lovely Nation, there's an interesting article in February's Consumer Reports (read it online here) about the minefields such consumers face when buying goods of American manufacture, and with value for money being all the more paramount. One shouldn't be taken in by the patriotic-looking labels and imagery on products with patriotic-sounding names or stylees as turn out being manufactured in China, Vietnam, Indonesia, Myanmar, Cambodia, Bhangladesh or other bastions of cheap labour and equally cheap contenpt for workplace health and safety.

Speaking of the whole idea of AmeriKKKa "needing to be more like China," as certain conservative prolefeeders insist to hasten socioeconomic recovery according to ekonomesie vryheid met Amerikaanse eienskappe and its disciplines, Guangzhou Automotive Group (GAC), China's premier local auto manufacturer, has a presence at this year's North American Auto Show in Detroit with three concept models therefrom as include two hybrid electrics (Trumpchi 4WD Hybrid and NEV E-Jet sedan) and a battery-electric (Trumpchi GS5 SUV, whose 35 kWh battery pack can be recharged in but two hours via an 18-kW charger). (Incidentally, GAC used the Detroit Auto Show presence to announce its signing preliminary agreements with Chrysler and Fiat to manufacture the latter's vehicles for the Chinese market in China, Jeeps included. But only for the Chinese market, understand, Mitt Romney and ilk notwithstanding.)

One classic automotive engine "REAL AmeriKKKan" types would love to see a return of would probably have to be the Jowett Flat Twin ("The Little Engine with the Big Pull"), a two-cylinder horizontal-piston engine in production in England's Green and Pleasant Land from 1910 to 1952, allowing for production interruptions by the two World Wars; its economies of manufacture, notwithstanding its being a pain in the neck vis-a-vis servicing, translated into incredible fuel economy (as much as 55 mpg for a 907-cc, 7-hp version as was used in several Jowett sports models in the 1920's), enough to explain Jowett's premise that their cars could be operated for "a penny a mile," allowing for road tax and motor insurance. (A specimen of the "Flat Twin" can be viewed here in YouTube.)

(Unless, of course, their real preference in auto engines is one modelled on the powerplant for East Germany's Trabant 601, a rather inefficient two-cycle such with clumsy transmission and steering.)

Could it be that the main reason Walmart insists on selling high-powered assault rifles
is to satiate the desire among its "REAL AmeriKKKan" core audience of "poor whiteism" on steroids and amphetamines to "be prepared" for the prosect of "sacred war" aimed at Reclaiming Our Dear Lovely Nation's Guiding Doctrines and Disciplines?

One of the more interesting findings from a newly-released NBC News/Wall Street Journal Poll hath it that more Americans surveyed trusted the National Rifle Association in the wake of Recent Unfortunate Events than Hollywood. Leaving Your Correspondent wondering if the response would be the same, or much different, if "Branson" were substituted for Hollywood in the original question, and especially so among the so-called "REAL AmeriKKKans" valued deeply and dearly by conservative prolefeeders.

Finally today, the "Dear Abby" column appearing in gazettas worldwide Friday was led by the following news:
DEAR READERS: My beloved mother, Pauline Phillips, has passed away peacefully at the age of 94. Over the last quarter century Alzheimer's disease had stolen away bit by bit her remarkable intellect, but she battled her illness with courage and dignity. She was my best friend who can never be replaced.

As those of you who have read this column when my mother wrote it know, Mama had a deeply caring heart, a lively sense of humor and a deep devotion to all of you. She tried every day to educate, enlighten and entertain, and to inspire civility and respect for others in the many thousands of people who sought her advice.

Her days in the office were spent answering letters and calling people who were in distress. Over the years, her list of sources, friends and contacts grew into a Rolodex that was legendary. The demands on her time and travel were many, but she was a loving mother, loyal wife, a caring friend and wonderful role model.

Mama was born on July 4, 1918, to Russian immigrant parents and was the youngest of four daughters. She often said that until she was 12 she thought all the fireworks were for her and her identical twin sister, Esther (Eppie) [as later wrote under the name "Ann Landers"].

She always had an interest in and deep concern for other people. After her marriage to my father, Morton Phillips, she put that interest into action and became president of her local mental health society and trained Gray Ladies for the American Red Cross. She honed her skills as a writer by writing a letter to her parents every day and to her sister-in-law who had contracted polio and spent a year in an iron lung.

I would like to convey my heartfelt gratitude to my mother's devoted, highly professional caregivers, Jane Ebertowski, Rachael Reisdorf and Erna Hoche, who were at her side 24/7 for the last 11 years. They are angels on earth and brilliant at what they do.

Please join me and offer a prayer for my mother. She had an amazing journey from Sioux City, Iowa, to shaking hands with U.S. presidents and British royalty. Ask that her spirit be surrounded by the souls of the many individuals whom she loved and who loved her. She has sat in God's waiting room for so many years, and now may their souls be joined together. -- JEANNE PHILLIPS, AKA GRIEVING IN MINNEAPOLIS
No wonder "Dear Abby" was as popular as it was, enough to inspire all manner of parodies from time to time and even a John Prine number on a live album of his (eventually making its way to the "best of" album Prime Prine: The Best of John Prine) which was a hilarious sendup of the column set to music, the refrain of which went:

[Writer's name], you have no complaint;
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't!
So listen up, buster, and listen up good,
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood!

(Just be thankful that "Dear Abby" continues in the good hands of Jeanne Phillips, her daughter.)

We'll never forget you. Rest in peace.

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