Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Vol III – Episode 142: Masks, Mandates, Artists, and Artsoppa

Political Satire:  Having trouble surviving these times?  You’re not alone.  Join us in columnist John F. Di Leo’s exploration of an alternate universe, where we imagine the impossible:

Joe Buckstop, an aging, corrupt old fool, somehow becomes president in his basement, and every night, an aide has to bring him his soup and discuss the events of the day as he prepares to receive his nightly meds…

Note: We are sharing approximately every other story from Evening Soup with Basement Joe, and are now sampling Volume Three’s ninety chapters. In today’s episode from the first year of his regime, the new soup aide tries to answer the old man’s disjointed questions about Sweden.

Masks, Mandates, Artists, and Artsoppa

Dateline: October 3. Begin Transcript:

“Good evening, sir! Are you ready for your evening soup?”

“No! Get out! Not Yet! Stay out until I call you!”

“Sorry, sir! Okay, sir, let me know when I can come in! … oh boy… hmm… he must be on a call or something… weird… wish they had a better way to let me know … I thought it was time… wonder how long I should wait… hmm… I don’t hear anything.. it’s been a few minutes… Sir? Sir, is it time, sir?”

“Who’s there?”

“Will, sir, with your soup, sir.”

“Well, get in here! Stop dilly dallying!”

“You said to wait outside, sir… so I was waiting…”

“Get in here and do your job! I’m hungry!”

“Oh, yes sir, sorry, sir… here’s your soup, sir.”

“What is it?”

“Artsoppa, sir. It’s Swedish yellow pea soup, sir.”

“Come on, man! What the heck is that?”

“Swedish soup, sir. Peas, onion, ham, and carrot, sir, I think that’s what she said, sir.”

“Swedish, huh? Where’s it from?”

“Well, uhh, Sweden, sir.”

“Where is it?”

“Well, it’s right here, sir, on your desk. I just put it down…”

“No, where’s Sweden?”

“Sweden? Well, umm, it’s a Scandinavian country, so… up in Scandinavia, I guess, sir.”

“Come on, man! Which is it? Scandinavia or Sweden?”

“Well, sir, Scandinavia isn’t a country, sir, it’s a region.”

“It is?”

“Well, yes, sir, it’s a group of countries at the north end of Europe, sir, east of Great Britain, sir.”

“I’ve always heard of Scandinavian something…. don’t know where it is. Tell me about it.”

“About Sweden, sir?”

“That’s what I said, kid! Don’t you listen?”

“Well, sir, okay, umm, i don’t know much about Sweden… it’s the middle of the three northern Scandinavian countries, sir… Norway, Sweden, Finland… North of Denmark… let’s see… it’s a member of the European Union… they’re one of the few countries that completely refused to do mask mandates for the China virus…”

“What? What’s that?”

“Well, sir, just that Sweden didn’t do any mask mandates, sir.”

“Huh. Well then, you better tell me more about them, since they’re going to all die out now.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Well, if they didn’t do anything about the virus, they’ll all die, so I should probably learn about them…”

“Actually, sir, from what I’ve read, their numbers have been pretty similar to the rest of the region, sir, even though everyone else did masks and they didn’t, sir. They said it’s a virus, that’s all, no way to stop it, so don’t wreck the economy in all these imaginary measures that won’t really do anything, sir. The stats seem to have borne out their theory, sir.”

“Well. We’ll see what Dr Fauci has to say about that… Tell me about the soup.”

“I don’t really know anything more about the soup, sir. Swedish yellow pea soup, sir. And a bowl of crackers, and a stack of napkins here, sir, and your usually three children’s soup spoons, sir. That’s all I can say about the soup, sir.”

“Well, tell me about Sweden. What else about Sweden? Give me something to learn about while I eat my soup.”

“Well, sir, they’re known for, umm, Swedish meatballs, and Swedish vodka.. and i think, ummm… oh, smorgasbords, too, sir. They’re famous for the smorgasbord. The all you can eat buffet, sir. Smorgasbords, sir.”

“Huh. Well. What else?”

“Hmm… lingonberries. I’ve always heard about Swedes putting lingonberries on everything. Pancakes, waffles, whatever. And pickled herring…”

“They put lingonberries on pickled herring?”

“Good gracious, no, sir. That was just the only other Swedish food I could think of, sir. Pickled herring. I really don’t know anything else about Sweden, sir.”

“Huh. Well, that’s interesting. What’s your name again, kid?”

“Will, sir. “

“Well, okay, William. Good soup.”

“No, sir…”

“It’s not a good soup?”

“No, sir, I’m sure it’s a good soup, sir. I mean, you called me William. My name is Will, sir, for Wilmington, sir. Wilmington Peotone, sir. I go by Will.”

“Oh. I’ll never remember that.”

“I know, sir.”

“Tell me some more about Swedish food.”

“I don’t know anything else about Swedish food, sir. I’m surprised I thought of that much, sir. I’m not Swedish, sir.”

“Well, could’ve fooled me. You know, when I was a boy in Scranton… I don’t know if you knew that, but I grew up in Scranton. Scranton, PA, you know. Scranton, PA.”

“Yes sir.”

“We never had Lingonberries in Scranton. Never heard of them. Not sure they’re real. Are they real?”

“Yes, sir, they’re real.”

“Oh. Well then. Tell me more about Sweden.”

“Well, sir, today there was some news, sir, I heard it while driving to work tonight. There was a killing in Sweden today, sir. A Swedish artist named Lars …. something… Vilks? Yes, that’s it, Lars Vilks. Killed in a car crash.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Car accidents are terrible.”

“Yes sir, they are, but it didn’t sound like this was an accident, sir.”

“Huh?”

“Well, sir, the artist was being driven in a police car by a couple of police. He’s been under police guard for about fifteen years, sir, ever since he published an insulting sketch of muhammed, fifteen years ago, sir.”

“What’s an artist doing under police protection?”

“The muslims put out a fatwa on him, sir. They said that he should be killed, sir.”

“For what?”

“For that one sketch, sir. It was insulting to muhammed, so, you know, they decided he had to be murdered. It’s like they always are about photos, drawings, cartoons, you know. Publish anything that insults muhammed, and they’ll tell all their followers all over the world to kill you. Eventually they succeed.”

“Come on, man! How can you be so sure about that?”

“Well, sir, it was in the news story I heard on the radio, and I checked my phone for more details when I stopped the car, and sure enough, that’s the way it is, sir. One sketch, fifteen years ago, and they’ve been trying to murder him for fifteen years, sir.”

“Fifteen years?”

“Well, you know, they’ll wait a hundred years to settle a perceived grudge, sir. That’s just how they are, sir.”

“Oh, kid, people are people. I’m sure that, deep down, they’re just like you and me.”

“If you say so, sir. But I’m just saying… I sure hope they don’t put out a fatwa on me, sir.”

“Well, this was good soup.”

“Glad to hear it, sir. And that guy was probably a good artist… at least, the Swedes thought so. Till he got killed.”

“Who killed him?”

“Well, the press hasn’t said point blank that it was murder… they’re dancing around it, saying it was a car crash, sir. But I don’t think anyone believes it!”

“Why not?”

“Well, sir, the news reports said that a truck crashed into a police car that was transporting him somewhere, sir. Didn’t say anything about the policemen who were driving, didn’t say anything about the truck driver. Just that the artist who was being guarded and protected got killed.”

“So?”

“So it sure doesn’t sound like a simple car crash to me, sir. They’d tried to murder him at least a couple other times, that’s why he was still under police protection, sir.”

“Sure am glad we don’t have that problem in the USA.”

“Don’t be too sure, sir. That crowd is coming in over the Mexican border, every day, sir. Don’t know what percentage, but reports are that a sizable chunk of middle easterners are coming over every day, mixed in with the flow of Latin American illegals, sir.”

“Oh, it’s not such a big deal. Look, if they took fifteen years to kill this guy, they’re obviously not that good at it.”

“Not to personalize it or anything, sir, but just for the record… you may not expect to have another 15 years left so you don’t care, sir, but… I should have about 50 years left, sir. And I really don’t want to push my luck, sir.”

“You know, I wasn’t going to have another bowl, but this soup is growing on me. I think I’ll have another.”

“Another bowl, sir?”

“Sure, why not. And fix yourself one, too. It’s good.”

“Okay, sir, I’ll go upstairs and see if I can get another bowl for you, sir.”

“And while you’re at it, find out what it’s called, huh? And speaking of that… what’s your name again, kid?”

Copyright 2021-2024 John F Di Leo

 

Excerpted from “Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volume Three: How Is This Not Over Yet?”, available in paperback or eBook, exclusively on Amazon.

John F. Di Leo is a Chicagoland-based international transportation and trade compliance professional and consultant.  President of the Ethnic American Council in the 1980s and Chairman of the Milwaukee County Republican Party in the 1990s, his book on vote fraud (The Tales of Little Pavel) and his political satires on the current administration (Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volumes III, and III), are available in either eBook or paperback, only on Amazon.

His newest nonfiction book, “Current Events and the Issues of Our Age,” was just released on July 1, and is also available, in both paperback and Kindle eBook, exclusively on Amazon.

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