Dear Ann Archy,
My husband hogs the remote, which is nothing new, except he wants to watch Survivor when I want to watch Friends. What should I do?
—Shy in Cheyenne
Dear Shy:
While part of me wants to urge tact and moderation — after all, both your shows will be in repeats all summer long — your husband's powerful and overwhelming interest in Social Darwinism suggests to me swift action is necessary before your household lapses into complete and total fascism. If Freedom Really Is Even Nicer Done Stoned is truly what you believe in and aspire to, then an uprising is the key to removing his power. His key to power? The remote control. Commandeering it should be easy once you pour some varnish on the television and set it on fire. This will be particularly poignant if you do it while Survivor is on. He'll be so busy trying to glean who's getting their knapsack in a bunch on whatever week's episode, he won't notice that you've stashed the remote in the gun cabinet, which you will have broken into, removed all his guns for distribution among your F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Then, replace the lock and buy more ammunition. Once you have some momentum built, revolution will surely follow. Good luck!
Dear Ann:
Could you explain to me once and for all the order in which cars should proceed through a 4-way stop? I get darned confused!
—Darned and Confused
Dear Darned and Confused:
Great question! I assure you, judging from the bad drivers who almost ruined the WTO protests in Seattle, you're not the only reader who could use a remedial lesson in 4-way stopping. Now then: When approaching the intersection, pull up as aggressively as possible — it helps to shoot past the white line lawmakers use to keep drivers in check while they wallow in pork barrel politicking. At night, turn off your headlights and gun that sumbitch.
Dear Ann:
You once published this wonderful "Recipe for Disaster." I've had a frayed and yellow copy taped to my fridge probably since they busted the Symbionese Liberation Army and Patty Hearst sold them out. Please reprint in time for Father's Day.
—Olly Garky
Olly:
You got it. Enjoy.
The next time The Man steps up in your face, be polite and cordial — think Karen Carpenter/California mellow. Inside, of course, you will be a boiling cauldron of conflicted ideology and revolutionary thought, just as Karen probably was, may she rest in peace. Relax! This phoniness is merely a ruse, a clever ploy, so as not to attract attention from your group-thinking peers, who may not understand your deviant urges. No man is a prophet in his own land. So go home and cook yourself a delicious meal and chase it with a nice bundt cake! Since you'll be in the kitchen anyway, take two scoops of sugar, a baking potato, some rotten eggs and some food coloring, and have some fun customizing your oppressor's automobile. If not you, who? If not now, when? Go for it!
Dear Ann:
Settle this bet. I say the time is now for revolution, but my Anarchist Journaling Group argues that it is not now time for revolution, but may be soon. Can I kill them in a way that won't impede my own agenda?
—Ready and Willing
Dear Ready and Willing:
While your wittle group is getting their emotions out on the page, wasting the lives of trees, no blood is being spilled in the name of freedom! The earth is dying! The corporations are greedier than ever! Fish are cooking in the boiling hell seas — right here on earth — and your precious anarchist group is journaling. I'm right proud of you, though, for standing your ground. Way to go. Now, yes, go get 'em. Use a flamethrower, and don't forget to burn the journals.
—Comrade David Jasper
This article appears in May 17-24, 2001.