BEWAIL THE BAIL!

Saint Holiday, doing his boogie best to maintain some particle of equilibrium after the loss of yet another wife, called the Chairman of the Federal Reserve this morning and told him, "Joo got sum splainin to doo." The celebrated comic, poet and holy man has long been a controversial figure, epitomizing the tragedy of human existence and the consequences of severe cerumen impaction. The Fed, aware that the commonly-used shortened form of its name sounds eerily parasitic, decided after intense discussions with St. Holiday to change its name to The Feed, and, as a goodwill gesture to the Man of Infinite Gestures, to send him the trickledown for which he has long waited. Since St. Holiday is a vegetarian, this bailout falls under the category of Bean Barrel spending, as distinguished from the porcine variety. From the time his fortunes began to evaporate in 1951, he has been under-capitalized, poorly-regulated and likely to crash. This bailout may have come just in time to avoid a serious meltdown.

Our readers are aware of the mythic struggle St. Holiday has had with a chocolate addiction run amok, and it may be too early to tell whether his stay at the White Mountain Institute for the Clinically Addicted was effective or not. When asked whether he has thrown off the chains of chocolate addiction at last, he replied, "I'm just taking it one bite, um, I mean, one step at a time. I'm relying upon a higher power." This correspondent could not tell whether St. Holiday was referring to a Divine Power or to The Feed, from which he may soon receive a large bailout payment. Trouble has henned him long before the Great Westward Migration of his family, but many have viewed him as the author of his own problems. Weakly supervised for too long, St. Holiday has been failing and on the verge of collapse. It has become obvious to a few that the government had no alternative but to act.

Both presidential candidates offered unqualified support for the proposal, declaring their fondness for George & Georgie. In a joint statement, issued from the Capitol Rotunda, the contenders for our nation's highest office said, "The option of doing nothing, which would be our normal course of business, is simply not an option in the case of St. Holiday, whose contributions to our national identity, security and prosperity can not be understated. We will stand with him. We congratulate The Feed on its bold wisdom and decisive action to rescue the Escaped Crusader with a generous handout."

It is to be hoped that this bailout will provide a jump start for St. Holiday, who is still reeling from the loss of the Lovely One. This has been his worst crisis since his Great Depression. Rumors have been swirling in the media since she was photographed Sunday in the company of a young, good-looking male by the name of Asher Guillory. The couple made no attempt to hide their affection for each other.

LEFT IN THE DUST!

It is sad to relate here that on the very morning of St. Holiday's release from solitary refinement at the White Mountain Institute for the Clinically Addicted, the one once known as the Lovely One has abandoned him. "I can't take anymore," she was heard to say, as she headed for the Show Low Airport, bags in hand. That might be because she had already taken everything, and there is nothing remaining. Except for the cats, that is, which were left behind, like their master, to pile it higher and deeper. So, the Bliss Queen has gone, leaving a poor, afflicted shell of a man to sift through the ashes of a misspent life alone. Confidential sources inform us that St. Holiday's immediate plans, after he retrieves his fan mail from the local Post Office, are to relocate to the limestone caves of the Mogollon Rim and to mourn out the remainder of his weeks planning his posthumous work and perfecting his revolutionary hair-restoration formula.

SAVED FROM THE SURGE!

In the Name of Allah, the compassionate, the merciful, praise be to Allah, Lord of the Universe, and peace and prayers be upon His Final Prophet and Messenger, and also upon His Servant, Saint Holiday, the humble and oppressed, whom I, Abu Farou bin Sabib, the servant of the servant, am most pleased to assist on this blog. Allah, Allah, oxen free! We are happy to report that St. Holiday's grandchildren will not have to call him Amps instead of Gramps. Watt? Watt, you ask? On Sunday, an Arizona judge ruled that St. Holiday, the notorious mass chocolate eater of Show Low, is too mentally unstable to be subjected to therapeutic electrocution. The judge issued the ruling only hours before St. Holiday was scheduled to be strapped down and plugged in, ignoring the advice of experts from the Institute of the Clinically Addicted. He found that the holy man, who has been on a chocolate-eating rampage for decades, may possibly be too psychotic to comprehend the nature of the proposed therapy and to give an unqualified consent. The judge suggested other more benign forms of behavior modification like acupuncture, country music or flagellation. St. Holiday's loving wife objected strenuously and vociferously in the courtroom, demanding that her husband "receive the electrification he deserves," as she put it, and she had to be tasered and dragged away by the bailiff's deputies. As she left the courtroom in handcuffs, she vowed to file a Motion for Reconsideration. St. Holiday is touched by her love and concern for his well-being, and by her sweet, conditional forgiveness.

A senior judicial official, who spoke on condition of non-anonymity ("Hey, man, you have to promise to put my name in your blog before I'll tell you anything."), gave details of the scene inside the closed courtroom. For the record, the official's name is Albert Salazar. (O.K. Albert, are you satisfied?) Infidel! Anyway, during the proceedings, St. Holiday sang an old Glen Campbell song, something about being a lineman for the county, and repeated the phrase, "searching in the sun for another overload" in a stentorian voice, over and over, disregarding every warning from the judge. All the while, the holy man was occupied in a vain attempt to peel a little oval sticker off a plum. When St. Holiday began to yodel the word "overload," the judge ordered the bailiff to gag him. The picture emerging from these events is of a man riven by internal conflicts. May Allah save him!

The judge made it clear that his decision could be reversed if St. Holiday shows any signs of sanity in the future. Hearing this, a gentleman sitting next to the subject of the proceeding, later identified as John Orio, laughed out loud and said, "That will never happen!"

UPDATE ON THE SAINTLY ONE

NOTE: Due to his sequestration, Saint Holiday has turned over the day to day operations of his blog to his good friend and spiritual advisor, Abu Farou bin Sabib, also known as Abdul Ali Hakeem al Tamim. Abu is a novice commercial airline pilot. END OF NOTE

A major news network reported on condition of anonymity today that it had succeeded in penetrating the heavy security of the White Mountain Institute for the Clinically Addicted (ICA) to secure an exclusive interview with the Inaction Hero, known in some circles as Super Van, strange visitor from the Planet Krapton. His recently-disclosed overuse of performance-enhancing chocolate has drawn the interest of federal investigators, and a grand jury has been convened in Phoenix. His story has completely stolen the media spotlight from the presidential campaign and the mess production of our Bottoms of State. To the surprise of many, St. Holiday has managed to win a marginal fan base, even among some of his own children, who view the national mockingstock as one who has always stood for reform, having tried to reform himself for the past 40 years. OK, maybe 4 years. 4 hours? Once under a media microscope, he is now under a media telescope, because "he is so far out there." One of his own daughters was overheard to say over the phone, "Dad, I have one word for you - get help!" Latest observations appear to back up earlier findings.

The clandestine reporter was able to interview St. Holiday only briefly, speaking with him through a screen in what appeared to be a confessional booth. There he sat, wedged into the strait and narrow on genuine Naugahyde, shut off from all avian interaction, accepting submission to mounting pressures, mumbling a sort of quasi-scripture, such as, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the bills, from whence cometh my stress." The intrepid reporter remarked that St. Holiday appeared "highly sedated and sedately high," though we are informed by other sources that his placebo has not yet begun to kick in, providing the 24-hour relief he needs. The one, who considers Rollos to be miracle pills, is struggling to stay sober and is off to a good stop, as usual, but at least his tantrums are now temperate. He is expected to begin daily rounds of electro-shock therapy on Sunday.

From what could be derived from the short interview, St. Holiday believes that he should be treated as an individual, as opposed to a group or something else in the plural. He said he is planning to retract certain statements he has made over the past 38 years, which may clear up everything. He begged the reporter to help him "return to the shire." There was a certain incoherency in his speech. Long known for his whining tradition, St. Holiday complained that he is a victim of racial profiling and of a hate crime. He said,"They revile against me and vilify me, simply because of the way I talk and act and write and sing." Moreover, he said, "They can't pin that bank heist on me. I'll get off. All they have is circumstantial evidence."

St. Holiday's long-suffering wife has vowed to stand by him, despite the humiliating revelations of his chocolate addiction. "He was swept away by a power that is greater than any of us," she said. "He looks so lost and overwhelmed. How could I leave him now? I'll wait a while longer." Many wonder whether St. Holiday will rally sufficiently to appear in this year's Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. He had previously announced his plans to dress as a root beer float.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EEHEE!

Here's to a man of exceptional artistic talent, who has distinguished himself through concentrated effort and the application of his God-given gifts. He is a devoted husband and father, and the Lord has blessed him in his family and in everything he has undertaken. He is being prepared for even greater things. It is scarcely believable that he is 34 years old today. I deeply appreciate the love and respect he has always expressed for me, even in the course of our most difficult trials. He is more than a son; he is a dear, dear friend to me, and I love him with all my heart. Happy Birthday, Ethan. May the Lord keep you in His care always.

Love,
Dad

NOTICE TO THE PUBLIC

Because of concerns expressed with great emotion regarding my mental health, and misunderstandings which have arisen over my poor attempts at humor, I have decided to end my writing in this medium. I will continue to post my daily comic strip, George & Georgie, but otherwise, I am retreating into the safety of silence. Until recently, I did not realize that so many harbor severe antipathy towards me. I sincerely apologize for my intrusion. I meant no harm. It occurs to me that I will always fall short of expectations and that I am utterly incapable of truly sharing my unique consciousness with others. Farewell.