Posts Tagged ‘President’

Mother Hen Presents…The Ides of March

Mother Hen Presents is an occasional series in which Mother Hen reviews stuff that she may or may not have seen, heard or read.

The most important thing that you need to know about this movie is that George Clooney is in it. The next most important thing is that Ryan Gosling is also in it.

Now for all you chicks out there MH probably need not type another word, but since there are roosters and other guys who visit the nest too, she might as well continue.

George Clooney wants to be President, so half the world says let him already. However, there are a lot of men in this film that he has to convince as well, so he needs Phillip Seymour Hoffman (no relation to Dustin) and Gosling to persuade the males that voting for George is like, totally cool.

Paul Giamatti tries to stop them, mostly because he is a jerk, but also because he works for the other guy who wants to be President. He is a bad egg. Mother Hen liked him better when he was John Adams.

So Clooney makes an oops, and it is a pretty big oops, and Gosling finds out and doesn’t like him anymore, which is pretty lousy of him since Ryan baby made a pretty big oopsy himself.

By this time everyone is about up to their necks in poop, so Marisa Tomei, who is a reporter, is having a lot of fun scooping it up for her paper, The New York Rhymes, or something like that. Once it is full of poop, who cares what it’s called? Not Mother Hen. She has plenty of caca at the coop to deal with, thank you very much.

By now, everyone is blackmailing almost everyone else and stabbing them in the back and heads will roll and all that, and that is the part that the men will like a lot. Politics is a dirty, dirty business, which is why MH stays clear of it as much as possible. She does not like getting her feathers mucky.

All Mother Hen cares about is whether George and Ryan live happily ever after, but she can’t tell you if they do because that is what they call a spoiler. Spoiled eggs are bad so that must be a bad thing too.

This has been a Mother Hen Presents presentation.

Mother Hen, the Telephone and Mr. Trump

Hello? Mr. Trump sir? Is that you? Mr. Donald Trump, The Apprentice guy?

Yes, it is a great honor. Yes, I understand that you are an extremely busy man.

No, I don’t know Big Bird personally. Do you?  Of course you do…certainly, everyone knows that you know everyone.  Fascinating.

Mother Hen did love your Saturday Night Live appearance in a chicken suit. Very natural. You’re welcome.

Yes, she used to follow The Apprentice avidly. Before, when the candidates really won something. Sure, of course celebrities are much more entertaining. No doubt.

Mr. Trump, Mother Hen called to ask you the question the whole world wants answered.

Oh, were you thinking of running? Well, that should scare a few people!

Democrats? Yes, of course, totally. It should frighten them too.

Actually the question Mother Hen wanted to ask was…

Mr. Obama’s birth certificate? Weren’t you proven wrong about that?

A great victory. Really. When can we expect to see your birth certificate, sir?

No, true, it’s not that there is any suspicion. Your father was born in Germany though?

Just checking.  No, not that there is anything wrong with that. Not at all.

And your marks, sir? Isn’t it true that you were sent off to military school because you got in trouble in the private prep school you attended?

Youthful hijinks. Not relevant. Got that.

Actually, there was one more question. The original one, in fact.  

Get to the point? Right away. Absolutely.

Mr. Trump, are you prepared to provide written documentation that your hair is real?

Mother Hen thought that you would welcome the opportunity to set the record straight.

Sir, you can’t fire someone who has never worked for you.

At this point the phone line inexplicably went dead.

Mother Hen, the Telephone and President Obama

Hello? President Mr. Obama sir?

You are the President Mr. Obama? The guy in the White House? Oh, good!

Mother Hen here — you know, the world’s foremost typing chicken?

Really? Well, MH is a fan of yours as well. You are her favorite current American president by far.

You are very welcome, sir, but let’s get down to business, shall we?

As you know, Mother Hen is a proud citizen of Canada. No, north. Further north. That’s right.

We are having a wee problem with your guns coming over our border. No, sir, not your guns personally. Your country’s guns.

No, not the big ones…that would be Iraq. The smaller ones – mostly handguns, in fact.

Yes, yes, MH has heard about the pot problem. She is very sorry about that. Canada exports many agricultural products, but marijuana should not be one of them. She totally agrees with you there. It is supposed to be really good stuff though, right?

No, no, of course you wouldn’t…not at all. Anyway, we all know a little weed never killed anybody. Not right away,

That’s right, it takes time or a motor vehicle, whichever comes first. Gotcha on that! However, illegal guns do have a nasty habit of taking people out, unfortunately, in rather an abrupt manner. And messy. Very, very, messy!

Actually, it is a big problem. About two-thirds of the illegal guns seized by police in Toronto have come over the border from your country.[i]

Toronto. Big city. On Lake Ontario. CN Tower? Yes sir, that one. Um-hmm.

Well, no, our violent gun crime isn’t as bad as yours. Yet.

Only about one an hour.[ii] But then we have a lot fewer people to get shot, you see.

Or to do the shooting, that’s true. Yes, we’ve heard that slogan up here too – “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.” It’s very catchy. You didn’t come up with that yourself, did…

No. Mother Hen didn’t think so. Anyway, the guns do make it easier, now don’t they?

Well, the point is…do you think that you could do something about that? Turn off the tap somehow, as it were?

Oh, you and Prime Minister Harper talked about that. Recently. At that little meeting you had? Wonderful! Mother Hen is so relieved to hear that!

And you are going to talk about it again soon. Maybe over lunch.

Yes, you do have that little problem in Libya to deal with first. And Yemen. And maybe Tunisia or Egypt. Iran? Oh really? No, Mother Hen would never tell a soul! She is the very picture of discretion! An absolute portrait, almost a statue of trustworthiness!

Well, of course you do have other things to attend to, yes. Bo has to go out? Mother H. wouldn’t dream of keeping you on the line while the poor pooch is crossing his legs! In fact, she thinks she hears Junior Rooster calling.

It has been a pleasure, Mr. President. Stay in touch, okay? Love to Ms. Michelle now. Yes, and the girls, too!


The Dudegate Debate: Mother Hen Weighs In

Poor little Jonny Stewart!

Mr. Jonny is currently the subject of a squawk-fest because he addressed Mr. President Barak Obama as “dude” Thursday on The Daily Show.  The media are all aflutter over this incident, condemning wee Jonny for disrespecting the Commander in Chief.

Dude, they’ve got the issue all wrong!

Mother Hen agrees that there was a problem with Thursday’s show, but disrespect is the least of Jon’s worries. 

For starters, who uses dude anymore?

Mother hasn’t heard that term since Aston Kutcher made “Dude, Where’s My Car?” in 2000. That’s ten years ago people – ten whole years for Mr. Stewart to acquire another chummy catchphrase with which to disrespect the leader of the free world! Say “peep” for instance (one of MH’s favorites), “dawg” which comes in a close second, or even “buddy,” a perennial favorite.

In fact, The Urban Dictionary ( states that dude is ordinarily used by “stoners, surfers, and skaters.” Inquiring chickens want to know: which one are you, Mr. Stewart?

Beyond the dude question there is a much broader consideration. The President arrived armed with jokes, shot off the first volley, and then dominated the “conversation” throughout. It was so bad at one point Jonny whined “It’s just hard not to talk.”

MH agrees that Mr. Stewart was between a rock and a chicken coop. Mother Hen has been there herself from time to time. Interrupting the US President while he is speaking would be a big no-no.

Nevertheless, this is what the man does for a living – this, in fact, is what he gets the big bucks for – keeping celebrities and politicians uncomfortable by peppering them with humorous probing questions. On, Thursday, Mr. Stewart was euchred at what he supposedly does best.

Mother Hen thus poses the humorous probing question: has Jon Stewart and The Daily Show jumped the proverbial shark?  Is he past his due date? Is he in fact turning into…dare she say it…an old fart?

All MH can say is, “Jonny dear, watch your back. You never know when Mr. Conan will be in the market for another job. Oh, and one more thing…never go near a shark. Mother hears that they like to eat TV hosts for breakfast.”

The BP Oil Spill Solved by Mother Hen

Once upon a time, when Mother Hen was young, and the world was not quite as old as it is today, there was a man named Marvin Gaye who wrote a song called Mercy, Mercy Me. Things, he noted, ain’t how they used to be, and indeed, he was right in principle (though, it pains Mother Hen to admit, incorrect in his grammar). Mr. Gaye also sang about “oil wasted upon our ocean and our seas,” many years before the Exxon Valdez leaked oil all over the Alaskan coastline, and decades before the humungous disaster that British Petroleum (called BP by the masses) has foisted on the Gulf of Mexico and the gulf states. A very forward thinking man, was Mr. Gaye.

Here again we see the wisdom of that ancient maxim, “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Mother Hen is partial to ancient maxims, old sayings, and even the occasional old wives’ tale, seeing as how she is an old wife herself, because they have a nasty habit of being true. Now there is a huge kafuffle over whether or not BP lied about their capacity to halt the oil spewing from their well, and about just how much spewage was taking place. (Yes, Mother Hen knows that there is no such word as “spewage,” but there should be.)

Let us be clear. Of course they lied, my silly little moppets! They are a big corporation potentially facing unprecedented lawsuits, incredible fines, and even criminal charges. Why would they even consider admitting the extent of their culpability and ineptitude? How droll and completely naive that anyone would think otherwise!

Then Mr. President Obama, who according to Harvard and his wife is an incredibly intelligent man, tells the world that he, not the British Petroleum company, is ultimately responsible for ensuring that this undersea oil well stops its spewing and that the spewage is contained! Pardon Mother Hen as she giggles into her hankie – there, done.

 How in heaven’s name is a gentleman with no background knowledge in the matter going to plug up a pipe in the bottom of the ocean? More humorous yet, why on earth would he accept the blame for a disaster which was in no way his fault, while the careless bozos responsible happily hand him the buck that he blithely promises to stop right there?

I have a suggestion, Mr. President Obama, sir. Get on that top secret cell phone of yours and put in an urgent call to the folks at Proctor & Gamble, the company most experienced in leakage protection. Yes, we are speaking of the preeminent experts in absorbency, the makers of Tampex tampons. Let’s see just how confident they are in their product now! (Mother Hen being a close personal friend of Mother Nature’s, issues a challenge on her behalf. )

Indeed, things are not at all what they used to be, on the coastline of the gulf states and the depths of the Gulf of Mexico. In the boardrooms of British Petroleum, however, the old boy’s club unfortunately, is operating about the same.