2021-04-04 12:39:50 UTC
So then, I want you, for legal reasons, to imagine a country that is not Poland. Are we clear on that? It's definitely not Poland, even if the women are hot and the men love eating a weird, black sausage that looks and tastes like a precursor to cannibalism.
In this fictitious nation which we will call Moomooland, the President has recently been described as a 'moron'. The government is not going to let this aggression stand. They have decided to prosecute the offender, a writer of pornographic novels whose recent opus, “Bending for the Soap” sold a million copies, and who is equally famous for never once having visited the dentist.
The President, Tony Rottencrotch, has declined to speak on the matter. But rather than dispel the notion that President Rottencrotch is a moron, the charges filed against the writer have only served to draw attention to some of the moronic aspects of the Rottencrotch presidency.
The entire nation of Moomooland is divided; is President Rottencrotch a moron?
Some will argue that if your name is persistently mentioned alongside the word “moron” in the opening paragraphs of newspaper columns, then there is a good chance you are indeed a moron. Others will rely on the old adage that if something looks like a moron, if it sounds like a moron and if it repeatedly fans the flames of division and refuses to defend the constitution like a moron, then it must be a moron.
The great legal minds of Moomooland, none of whom work for the government, are anxiously awaiting the outcome of not one but two cases of alleged slander against elected officials. The Public Prosecutor's Office are demanding the identity of below-the-line commentators on the internationally renowned news portal ambrosia.ml relating to those who left messages under an article concerning Minister Benito Buttcheeks. It accuses them of "humiliating the constitutional organ of the Republic of Moomooland." One of the entries asserts that “one day someone more important than Minister Buttcheeks will come and say that he “will never hurt anyone again”.”
Minister Buttcheeks, who is the Minister for Cruelty and Hardship, was profoundly distressed at the implication that his days of hurting people are over. A government spokesman remarked that “long-lasting damage has been done to Mr Buttcheeks standing in the
government by implying he lacks the requisite mental disposition to inflict pain on a consistent basis.”
One can see their point. Mr Buttcheeks' good name could be aversely affected by the public's perception of him as someone who is kind to others. A loss of earnings could ensue, after all what use would Mr Buttcheeks be to the current government if he is no longer deemed capable of casually tormenting others?
Yet according to Moomooland libel law, there will be an onus on the charismatic Mr Buttcheeks to prove that he is more than ready to hurt anyone, anywhere, anytime. Such a trial has prompted legal commentators to ponder the nature of the Buttcheeks defence. Will witnesses be called to testify on his singular ability to administer a Chinese burn? Will there be up-to-date footage of the minister privately mocking overweight and dyslexic children? Or perhaps he will simply sit silently beside his lawyer wearing a t-shirt that says, “Hurting people is my business and business is good!”
What then for President Rottencrotch? Will he too have to stand before a jury of his peers and prove beyond reasonable doubt that he is not a moron? What sort of tests would be required of him? Tying his shoelaces while reciting the Moomooland anthem? Putting on his pants before his shoes? Perhaps the court will resort to the famous monkey tests of the 1970s? Koko the chimp learned 348 geometrical symbols that represented different words, combining these symbols in a type of proto-grammar to convey meaning and understanding.
Perhaps it's best to leave it at shoelaces and the anthem.