“Dali was a red-eyed surrealist. He would deliberately nod off while sitting at a table with brush in hand, and when he awoke he immediately painted his dreams, exploring his subconscious until his eyeballs hurt. He sat and stewed until the genius in him farted, releasing steamy clouds of incurable anger about bankers and uptight hypocrites. Bah!  Merda! The utter lack of originality among society’s “elite” gave Salvador a case of Tourettes. He knew that he himself was pre-destined for greatness: he would be the SAVIOR’O’FART if he could just get past the bureaucratic morons who kept blocking his path. Of course, stuck-up editors, ignorant writers, drunken democrats and social snobs were to be expected along the way.  Philistines in every land were eager to drag him away from his preferred coterie of S&M devotees. And from Gala, his party creator and soul twin. Still, Dali was intrigued to discover that he could mold even regular Joes into twisted avengers in service of his great cause, that creative mission which transcends all borders: Viva La Imaginacion!  And Salvador cast a cool eye across his admirers, his newly awakened, peaceful defenders of the Imagination, ready to free-think as artists… Valuable human beings, at long last!”

Click on any of the satires below (from my Scorpiocraft catalog):

Ben Wa and the Exploding Nipple Trick
Bad Air
Ooo Dr. Wang!
Up with the Junta
High on Green Party
Flip Talk
The Crab Blues

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