Yellow Back Radio Broke-Down by Ishmael Reed Page A

Theda my opinion, I tink some of dees protestors need a little Bonaparte right up side da fucking mop baby, pow dat’s what dey need.
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    Now you’re cooking with gas Peter, my compatriot and dear friend. I’ve been thinking about it Peter and you know what would happen if the British start acting up or them nigger pirates in Barbary start screwing around with our ships. Do we want to look like faggots?
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    He’s stripped the Navy and uses the boats for those old nasty women he’s always fooling around with, takes pleasure boat rides with those goddamn anarchists and those pseudo intellectual professors. Why just this morning he took off again. Papers piled high on his desk. Just went away. Too La Doo. Said he was nothing but a lowly dirt farmer waved to us and said he’d see us around. Always using slang like that I can’t keep up with him or understand a single thing he says half the time. Said he wanted to catch an eclipse tonight through his telescope. Last time he went to his farm he remained 3 whole months.
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    Geez dat’s a shame Theda. If we had a ballsy leader da whole shebang would be one big goof off from coast to coast, everything would be boss.
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    Theda looked at himself through a hand mirror and busied the mole on his cheek.
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    There are plenty of talented men around. Yourself Pete?
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    O I’m just a poor simple Congressman. I just got da job because my uncle’s an undertaker.
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    Then what about me, Pete? Theda hopped from the crate and clutching the lapels of the Congressman’s coat pressed Peter against the wall.
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    Aw not me, baby, I’m not getting mixed up in no plots.
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    But your name will become a holiday Peter, just think.
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    I’d rather bar-be-cue a holiday dan be one Theda. No tanks. You saw what happened to da Aaron Burr conspiracy, dey busted da poor guy all da way down to da floor—he’s ruined.
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    Aw Burr was a lemon. I’ve been secretly planning here in my little hole in the wall. Maps have been made, an invasion route laid out. Royal Flush Gooseman is extending credit for supplies in exchange for me sub-leasing Florida to him, plus I have an intelligence officer on the biggest cattleman’s household staff to boot.
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    Gee Theda da way you run it down so clear and fresh as spring water you make it zap my mind.
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    Of course Peter, dear friend. Why just this evening our Indian scout out on the range sent a message via electronic horsey that he was coding Yellow Back Radio when all of a sudden it went off the beam. He suggests that it might not be long before I took my sword and led a cavalry charge on that part of the country full of black diamonds, black gold, abundant streams of trout and swarming with healthy steer beef.
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    Look Theda suppose we just bumped da guy off? I’ll let da boys back home know dere’s a contract and while’s he’s out looking for rare butterflies bingo poof and my man is in doornail country.
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    O Peter you’re so sweet but sometimes I forget you’re the Congressman from New Jersey. Assassinations were crude techniques of the Middle Ages. Perish the thought that civilized men like ourselves would be forced to such tactics in this the century of American Enlightenment.
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    Wipe the mustard off your tie Pete.
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    O excuse me Theda I didn’t notice.
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    No I have a better plan. If indeed Yellow Back Radio wilting feathers are preparing to take a dive into History why don’t we take over the Western section of the country and then declare a civil war? Why with the plentiful resources and cheap labor out there our logistics will be unbeatable and we’d get rid of this crowd once and for all, Hamilton, Paine and Jefferson, the whole civilian crew. Phooey. What do they know. Why I’ll be Emperor and Pete…well Pete you can park all the stagecoaches. By the way Pete how are things in Congress these