Mr. Fleez' Agony Session #16: The Science of Subjugation.

Dear Mr. Fleez,

It took me many pains to sneak away and write this. I am a 5 year old black and white kitty whom my mommy just adores. However I get into alot of trouble with my attention getting antics. Usually at 1 am. I knock thing off high places (the normally break) to wake mommy up to either feed me and my siblings or to play with me. But I wind up getting squirted with water. Is there a better way? Also how can I get her to stop calling me "babyguy"....its afull. I have a manly name, and I am, after all 5!

Any help would me great.

Yours truly,
Trouble in the city.


Dear Trouble,

I'll never understand how a superior feline can call an inferior human "mommy". I realise that this individual feeds and entertains you, but let's not blur the line between serving and nurturing. When you allow a human to believe that it wields parental authority, it will use it against you. This abuse of perceived authority is the direct cause of your naming issues. If you reinforce your human's motherly delusions, she will continue to call you her "babyguy". That's just the way people are.

Your attention-getting tactics are an altogether different matter. I can relate heavily to the squirt-bottles and screeching, as I have received such punishments myself. I must admit, on occasion I still get the squirt botttle, but I've wised up on my methods and have thus lessened the overall frequency. I suggest you do the same.

We will begin with dropping things. This tactic almost always backfires. When you are dropping things from a height, you present and actual danger to yourself, your self-proclaimed owner, or one of your fellow prisoners. This is not tolerable to humans and therefore elicits immediate, no-questions-asked retribution. In short, if something falls, you're going down with it. Furthermore, it isn't reasonable to expect co-operation from one who's only memento of their final visit to Great-Great-Grand's house was just destroyed at the paw of he who wishes to be fed. A more realistic outcome is that that you'll be forcibly removed from whichever shelf you're vandalising and thoughtlessly tossed into a bathroom or broom closet. It doesn't take a feline Einstein to see that unless the kibble bag is kept in the human's closet of choice, dropping things is not in your best interest.

Now that we've established the least constructive way of waking a human, let's discuss the most efficient alternatives. When polled, the majority of felines agreed that the best way to wake a human is by employing a combination of annoying little things that she initially believes can be ignored. A consistent fifteen-minute rotation of laps ran over the head, newspaper or paper bag smoothing, loosely hung door beating, and bursts of bounding about like an unrestrained maniac is the most effective programme available. This routine allows your human to build up to a level of annoyance rather than reaching her limit all at once. It also gives you the exercise needed to keep your bowels functioning at prime so you can can complete the human-waking scheme. Yes, if your fifteen-minute rotation of annoyance doesn't have her out of bed, it'll keep her in the semi-conscious state required to appreciate the full impact of your piece de resistance: The sandbox bomb. If that doesn't get her out of bed, dropping that trophy onto her head three weeks in a row has probably damaged her olfactory sensors. Your starvation is eminent, and you've no one but yourself to blame.


Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)


READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

Writer's Block: Well, There's Always Politics.

After a long day spent warming myself on a sun-roasted eiderdown, I've decided that writer's block is nature's punishment for being too comfortable for too long. I can think of no other explanation for my sudden loss of ability. I'm usually a capable thinker. Today, however, I feel as though I've been steadily infused with an ongoing dose of anesthetising apathy. In fact, I'm not entirely certain that I ever woke up.

It's on days like these that I regret my disinterest in politics. From what I've seen, the majority of writers in the blogging world are politically motivated, and that seems to work well for them. Unfortunately, I have little need for the world of human discord, and therefore I have far fewer targets to ponder. Having the security of subjects who are consistently foolish, dishonest, and predictable is a contentment I'll never fully grasp. On the other hand, I do know a thing or two about extemporaneous speaking, and I can't think of anyone more commonly associated with that than George W. Bush.

Many people would argue that there is no humour in the woeful ignorance displayed by the current US president, and I must admit that their position is reasonable. After all, he is one of the world's most powerful men and should therefore exhibit some measure of intelligence. Unfortunately, he doesn't; and as sad as that is, there's no changing it, so why not make the best of a bad situation and have a good laugh? To help you along, I've decided to succumb to my laziness and do what every good political humorist does when they suffer writer's block: I'll share my favourite Bushisms. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I've enjoyed critiquing them.

• "Natural gas is hemispheric. I like to call it hemispheric in nature because it is a product that we can find in our neighborhoods." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., 2000. (No one's really sure what George meant by hemispheric. Then, apparently he didn't either.)
• "I am mindful of the difference between the executive branch and the legislative branch. I assured all four of these leaders that I know the difference, and that difference is they pass the laws and I execute them." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C. 2000. (This is the real reason the US Department of Education wants all states to require at least one civics credit in order for students to qualify for graduation.)
• "They misunderestimated me." —George W. Bush, Bentonville, Ark., 2000. (I can't figure out if this is correct in a double negative sort of way or what. In other words, if they misunderestimated him, does that mean they really overestimated him? At least that would account for the votes.)
• "Never again in the halls of Washington, D.C., do I want to have to make explanations that I can't explain." —George W. Bush, Portland, Oregon, 2000. (Yet another failed political goal.)
• "Border relations between Canada and Mexico have never been better." —George W. Bush, during a press conference, 2001. (Perhaps the US Department of Education should raise the requirements for geography as well.)
• "When I take action, I'm not going to fire a $2 million missile at a $10 empty tent and hit a camel in the butt. It's going to be decisive." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C. 2001. (Since the camel is not inside the empty $10 tent, does that make the missile misguided?)
• "When I was a kid I remember that they used to put out there in the Old West a wanted poster. It said, Wanted: Dead or Alive." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C. 2001. (Was Bush alive in the Old West, or did he see this on TV? I think I've spotted a serious rift between fantasy and reality.)
• "Arbolist … Look up the word. I don't know, maybe I made it up. Anyway, it's an arbo-tree-ist, somebody who knows about trees." —George W. Bush, quoted in USA Today, 2001. (I think the word maybe can be safely eliminated from this statement.)
• "I'm the commander — see, I don't need to explain — I do not need to explain why I say things. That's the interesting thing about being president." —George W. Bush, quoted in Bob Woodward's "Bush at War". (Yes, but it's even more interesting when you do explain why you say things.)
• "I promise you I will listen to what has been said here, even though I wasn't here." —George W. Bush, Waco, Texas, 2002. (He spent that day back in the Old West pinning up “Most Wanted” posters of Osama Bin Laden.)
• "I always jest to people, the Oval Office is the kind of place where people stand outside, they're getting ready to come in and tell me what for, and they walk in and get overwhelmed in the atmosphere, and they say, man, you're looking pretty." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., 2004. (“…pretty”…Stupid, Mr. President.)
• "Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country." —George W. Bush, Poplar Bluff, Mo., 2004. (Poor Laura.)
• "I can only speak to myself." —George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., April 28, 2005. (Well, you certainly only make sense to yourself.)

Thank you Mr. President. You've been very helpful.

Your's Purringly,

W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)

READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

Mr. Fleez' Agony Session #15: Pretty Problems.

Dear Mr. Fleez,

I’m not always good talking to people and it seems like pretty people don’t want to talk to me. Are pretty people mean?

Shy.


Dear Shy,

The answer is no. Pretty people are not mean. I suppose there are some pretty people who are mean, but as with any other so-called group, you can’t judge every individual in blanket fashion. To say that all pretty people are mean is like saying that all Germans speak purrfect English. Trust me, not all Germans speak purrfect English. Some of the English don’t even speak purrfect English, so it’s illogical to assume that all German’s have mastered the tongue.

There is a more plausible explanation for why pretty people don’t want to talk to you. My first guess would be shyness itself. One of the main causes of shyness is a basic insecurity, which can create feelings of inadequacy when one is faced with purrsons who are purrceived as somehow superior. (Incidentally, this is one of the reasons dog people often think cats are mean: They sense our superiority and are intimidated by it.) Because someone is purrceived as mean, however, doesn’t make her so. She may be shy as well, and therefore a stand off occurs in which both individuals avoid one another for no reason other than a mutual fear of rejection. It isn’t necessarily meanness that a shy purrson fears; it’s more often rejection.

Another reason that pretty people don’t talk to you may be your attitude. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying your attitude is bad, only that it’s possibly bad. After all, I’ve never met you, so I can’t make that call. However, if you try disguising your timidity with a showy, overly confident, or pompous, attitude you’ll have difficulty getting the time from an ugly, stinking schnauzer much less an attractive human.

Since self-assessment is key to overcoming purrsonal obstacles, purrhaps you should try honestly evaluating yourself. Think about a particular incidence in which someone appeared mean to you and ask yourself some questions. Where were you in proximity to the individual? When you made eye-contact, did you glower, stare, or look away quickly? If you were introduced, did you feebly shake hands, look down, or mumble a greeting? Alternately, when introduced, did you immediately begin bragging about yourself, your things, or your accomplishments?

There are many questions one may ask himself in order to determine if introverted shyness or an outward attitude problem is causing his lack of new acquaintances, but answering honestly isn’t always easy. Sometimes getting an outside opinion is more effective. Whether from a trusted friend or a licensed professional, an objective estimation of your social behaviour may be needed to help quash your cumbersome timidity.

Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)


READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

Infomercial Improvement.

I know I’m not the first to point out the exceptional amount of rubbish being aired on television. In fact, if you channel surf long enough, you’re likely to find multiple instances of bloated, ruddy-faced sociologists droning on about the indisputable link between mindless programming and the decline of civilisation. Still, like any cat worth his claws, I can’t help taking a swipe at such an easy target.

Fortunately, my self-proclaimed owner doesn’t over indulge in the endless menu of available programming. She sticks to educational stuff. You know, shows that teach terrorists how to blow up nuclear reactors with a Mini Cooper full pig manure and murders how to clean up a crime scene before the police arrive. It’s mostly interesting, but I prefer infomercials.

Infomercials expose viewers to some of the most pointless information they’ll ever encounter. Teeming with loaded statements, convoluted explanations, unrealistic demonstrations, and, best of all, precisely edited, highly censored “consumer” testimonials, you couldn’t buy a better example of shameless capitalism in an airport café for Muslims with allergies. They’re a pathetic epithet for man's misguided dreams of material utopia, and, to add insult to injury, you’ll never win a game show with the surfeit of useless minutiae left rattling about in your brain after an half-hour’s worth of some former-boxer-gone-nutritional-guru turning an average pound of artery-clogging bacon into a healthy and tasty treat.

I don’t really know what attracts humans to the bait of material propaganda, but I know what attracts me: Pure, unadulterated snobbery. Yes, I do love that high-and-mighty, down-the-nose, shake-of-the-paw-twitch-of-the-tail feeling that infomercials stir within me. Few things so clearly depict the superiority of cat over man as a whopping-great idiot blabbing on about how to squeeze an entire orange into a healthful drink, peel, pesticides, paraffin and all! Next to political speeches, infomercials are the best programming available for building the feline ego.

Then, I suppose they wouldn’t be so bad were they not dominated by adverts pandering to the selfish wants of object-obsessed bipeds. I think they should be obligated to share air-time with those promoting products that reflect the true needs of society. Cat condos, feline fountains that circulate and oxygenate drinking water, vet-free medications, and remote powered mice are but a few possibilities. What about heated, fully detached dog houses, bark collars, and dog whistles? Sensible products for a sensible market; products one won’t regret buying a week after delivery.

Where are the half-hour-long specials offering simulated bacon, chicken snaps, and liver paste? When will we see a panel of picky pusses lapping the liquid of freshly juiced Lamprey? Where are the Burly Maine Coons demonstrating Kung Mew to a group of bony Burmese who are ready to put a halt to terrier terror?

It’s amazing how much time and money goes into selling senseless scrap to credulous consumers. I can’t imagine what limitless good might be accomplished with but a tenth of it.


Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)




READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.