Homeland Committee wants hate center
“Welcome!” bellowed Ork Dorken, chairperson of the Homeland Security Committee, as he opened the annual economic development conference for 14 of the town’s eager electors seated randomly around the room.
Einar Stamstead stumbled in late. His dirty knees indicated that he was digging his carrot crop. His trousers appeared to be sitting while he was standing.
Ork rapped a Coke bottle on his makeshift table to silence the chatter that echoed across the cavernous chamber.
“As you know, each of us is supposed to have one suggestion to reinvigorate this community,” Ork announced. “Who wants to start?”
“Well, I heard about this town somewhere in North Dakota where this guy wants to start a hate colony,” Torvald explained. “They sold vacant lots – which we got some of – and got a bunch of publicity so I thought we might do something to take advantage of all the hate floating around these days.”
“We need to inventory our hate before we start something we can’t finish,” Josh Dvorchak cautioned.
“How many people in this room have enough hate to get a starter colony going?” Torvald asked. “Come on. Everybody has a hate.”
“Well, I used to hate the Swedes because they kept beating up on Norway but there aren’t any Swedes around these parts so my hate just petered out,” Einar explained, brushing the dirt off of his trousers.
“Who are we supposed to hate to make up a colony?” queried Old Sievert.
“It seems that the nest of haters in that town is against everybody who ain’t white,” Torvald replied.
“We don’t have anybody in this town who ain’t white,” Holger Danski noted. “How can we hate somebody who ain’t here?”
“If we’re going to hate somebody it should be in a Christian way,” suggested Garvey. He was a deacon before the church burned down in 1957.
“How can we hate somebody in a Christian way?” asked Dorsey Cranchak.
“Well, if they hate us first, maybe we can hate them back,” suggested Josh.
“No! That’s not Christian,” interjected Madeleine Morgan. “We’re supposed to turn the other cheek.”
“If we run out of cheeks, then we can hate them,” concluded Josh.
“Well, I don’t hate people. I hate the railroad for leaving town without me,” barked Orville Jordan, the retired depot agent who stayed when the railroad left.
“How can we hate something that is gone?” asked Dorsey. That question was too hard to answer so no one tried.
“I hate those jackass politicians in Washington for being jackass politicians,” Torvald grumbled.
Little Jimmy stood up. He was taking college online and was now majoring in clinical psychology. He liked online college because he didn’t have to learn anything to get a degree. This was his 13th major since his parents went to Alaska to hunt for gold and left him to take care of the house.
“There’s a lot of hate around,” Jimmy observed. “We need to stop hate so it doesn’t get out of hand like it is in Washington. I propose that we organize a hate center here in the community hall where people can come and shout their hate. We could be the anti-hate clinic of America.”
“Maybe we can get a Congressman to dedicate the center,” Torvald added with a wry smile.
“I can sign up for a psych practicum and run the center for at least a semester,” Jimmy proposed. “We can see if there is enough hate to keep it going.”
“Well, I hate long meetings,” Old Sievert declared abruptly. “Let’s adjourn.”
Everyone loved the idea and left. Ork hated it when they cut meetings short.
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