Dear Dirty America


Ronald Reagan & His Horse Sighted at Dana Point Beach

August 27
20:38 2011
The terrorist leftist group Thunder Overhead claimed they’d stolen Ronald Reagan’s remains from the presidential library in Simi Valley. The group later announced they’d dumped Reagan’s remains into the sea in order to stymie the growing cult-trend popularity of the hardcore Christian right. Reagan’s grave was becoming a shrine, and Thunder Overhead couldn’t handle that.

Reagan’s remains showed up at a beach in Dana Point, California and a handful of people witnessed what seemed to be the shocking rejuvenation of the former president and his horse crawling out of the water.

I was interviewing a famous surfer who looks like a Norse god at a small breakfast nook in Dana Point, California when a great clamor erupted outside of the restaurant. I left my computer, notebook, and pen on the table so I could run down to the beach where all the noise was happening.

When I got to the beach I was out of breath. A modest group of people wearing bright beach clothing were intently gazing out at sea. I saw what looked like a wet white horse’s tail flip out of the water like Hitler waving a tattered surrender flag as his empire drowned. What the hell is that? I asked everybody. I’m a reporter. What’s the story here? I’m only interested in the five ‘W’s! I said. I’m a professional.

Some people waved their hands, waved their arms. A couple women were nearly in tears and seemed to be sending off a loved one to sea. The whole scene gave me chills. I tapped the shoulder of what seemed to be a very serious man.

“What,” he asked, “do you want?”

What’s going on out there?

The man was the thin, wiry type similar to my unhinged wheatgrass juice addicted friend Marlin (read about him). He took a few steps from the crowd and conspiratorially gestured with his hands that I follow him. I was torn up on coffee and pancakes, so I blindly followed him along the beach and behind a few large parked yachts.

“That was Ronald Reagan,” he said flatly. “I can’t explain it, but my God-fearing eyes saw it. Him. Reagan on his horse.”

Reagan and his horse! I shouted.

The man jabbed me in the ribs with his finger. “Shh,” he said. “Keep it down. I don’t want people to think I’m nuts.”

Those people obviously saw what you did, because they are celebrating like their favorite dictator came marching home after a decade of wandering the craggy nether regions of the fantastic world.

The man winced at my words. “Anyway,” he said, “we were just walking along the beach, a few of us, and suddenly a great white horse walks out of the water. Soon we saw Reagan sat atop the horse.”

A reincarnated young Reagan atop a pale horse! I said.

“He wasn’t young. He looked old and worn out. Like somebody had just thrown him into the sea.”

They did, I said. Thunder Overhead. The lefty terrorist group that has the nation gripped in fear. They stole Reagan’s remains because he was become a right-wing idol. They were worshiping him like the golden calf. Thunder Overhead wanted to melt down his image and then make those right-wingers drink it.

“Anyway,” he said, “Reagan and his horse stood on the beach awhile and then he said a few words. He had a lot of crap in his throat, but by that time the small crowd had gathered and everybody politely listened. Some people were weeping.” The man peeked around the boat to look at where the people stood.

What did he say? I tapped my fingers against the side of the boat’s hull.

“He said, and I’m paraphrasing, ‘America to be free. Socialization is your enemy. Fire the union workers.'”

That’s not very profound, I said. Did he say anything else?

“That’s about it. But what do you expect? It takes a lot of energy for a manifestation of God to spring from the water and give a speech. I think I’ll wait around awhile to see if he comes back to say more.”

I went back to the diner to finish the interview. I was clearly shaken and the server asked if I’d seen a ghost. No! I told her, far worse than that.

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