Dear Uncle Snidely -- Henchmen

Dear Uncle Snidely,

Inspired by your example, I am setting up my own operation here in the mountains of British Columbia. I have an interesting proposal from a Chinese entrepreneur to provide henchmen for my budding empire at very reasonable rates. Should I pursue this offer?
--Ambitious Amoralist

My dear Amoralist,
I assume the fellow you are referring to is one of the Heathen Chinee that have infested the Lower Mainland like a Plague of Locusts, setting up their own Macao right here in our Beautiful Dominion. I can't say I'm much in favour of the idea of employing them, for Four Very Good Reasons. 

Dear Uncle Snidely -- Results

Dear Uncle Snidely,
I write to you in dire need of council. Recently, I abducted my nemesis' lady friend and tied her to a train track carefully selected after weeks of study of the routines of the trains to ensure that when the "hero" arrived it would be at a precise moment of peril. In a magnificent stroke of planning, both of them were obliterated by the train.
But, to my great vexation, when I arrived back to my lair and turned on the TV, the only thing that the news networks were reporting was that The Train Is Fine. My abject victory of my nemesis has been ruined! What should I do now? Do I need to start over with a new nemesis? The Evil Legion of Evil surely isn't going to accept this as sufficient grounds for membership now.
Signed,
Vexed in Alberta

My Dear Vexed
So you're the vile criminal who delayed the 8:45 from Regina to Saskatoon! I remind you not only am I an Upstanding Citizen of this Great Province, I am also majority shareholder of Northern Alberta Railway and Mining Limited (NARML). My first thought is to set the Mounties on you. It would serve you right, that little delay cost me over $200 Canadian. A wise man though, never reacts in anger.

Dear Uncle Snidely

Dear Uncle Snidely
I have a serious problem. I can't seem to impress or inspire the affection of any of the young ladies I meet. My life is rapidly become a lonely struggle against despair. I see that you never seem to lack for feminine company. Please teach me how can I win with the ladies.
Ladyless Loser


 Dear Loser
Once, I was much like you. As an Actor and Comedian, one would think I would have had my choice of Companionship. Particularly as actresses as a class are, let us not term them Strumpets, but rather Girls Who Are Liberal in Their Affections. I did all those things Boys are told will impress women, Pay them pretty compliments, be Eager and Helpful to them when they needed assistance, treat them with Respect. None of it did any good.
I have told the story before of how I became the Storied Colossus of Albertan Finance. Abandoned, penniless, friendless in a near-Arctic frontier town, I turned at first to menial labor. I took a job minding horses at the local House of Ill Repute. This employment opened my eyes to a Great Many Realities of Life that my upbringing, and especially my reading of Romantic Novels, had sheltered me from.

Let them drive Teslas!

Wait a minute!

"Judge Kavanaugh killed my kid sister with an axe!"

I have received the following missive by post. The writer wishes to remain anonymous for obvious reasons, but I am quite familiar with him, and have every reason to believe that the accusations contained herein are credible.

Mr Whiplash,

I am writing to you as I do not know where else to turn. My story needs to come out lest a very demon in human form become a justice on the US Supreme Court.

False Prophets

Lunch with a few old friends

I had lunch with a few old friends yesterday. Goodness, old times. We finished lunch about 1:00 AM at a Very Disreputable Speakeasy in Regina.  In the midst of our cups, a Decision Was Made.

We're getting the Band back together.

Reality cares not at all for your dogma.

It seems the citizens of England are again the victims of the Predictable Results of inviting countless Wogs to come and take over one's Capitol City. Having finally pacified the Irish, they have found that Certain Other Races are even More Useless, Less Intelligent, Lazier, and more Criminally Inclined. The latest story is that while cowering under the table of a restaurant as Yet Another Musselman goes Amok, some hopelessly brainwashed Congenital Idiot denied the reality staring him in the face, attempting to slash his throat.

As an acquaintance said recently "During the Blitz, surprisingly few Londoners were skulking around the bomb shelters saying "Fucking idiot, it's not Nazis!"
In illustration I have captioned a daguerreotype with the  sentiment:

A typical dialogue on race.