GYNAECOCRACY

The year is 2010. The economy has bounced back from the brief downturn of 2008-2009. The hard-hitting journalists at the Today Show have broken the story that Osama bin Laden has been dead since 1989 and was since replaced with an animatronic muppet with liver disease. Baghdad Disney has opened and closed and is now the site of the biggest Walmart in the Middle East. Vladimir Putin has died in a fight to the death judo match with Cyborg Dick Cheney.

Barack Hussein Obama looks out a window onto the White House lawn. There is a tear in his eye. He is one of the most powerful men in the world. He has his finger on the button that could destroy what is left of India after girl-genius Maithreyi Gopalakrishnan finished her B.A. and PhD in International Relations at Oxford in six months, led a new military junta to power in Pakistan and blew most of Western India sky high, thereby returning hundreds of thousands of call center jobs to the United States and in turn giving the faltering economy a shot in the arm by putting money back into the pockets of American citizens who lost everything after taking interest-only loans for $800,000 with $12,000 in income to buy trailers in the middle of nowhere. He has made Bill Clinton look like a punk in public on several occasions by yelling "I AM THE FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT, BITCH!!!" on both the newly revived Arsenio Hall show and the recently re-defunked Magic Johnson Show.

Yet despite all of these triumphs, our 44th President is a little down this morning. The reason? He left his briefcase on the bed last night. Why the tears at leaving a simple briefcase on one's bed? Well, the reason is simple: that briefcase accompanied him on his recent publicity ride of the DC Metro. He briefly put it down on the floor of the Metro so that he could kiss some beaming yuppie's baby ("What the hell do these people do that they can afford an expensive carriage like that and ride the Metro at ten thirty in the morning? Must be professional bloggers with lots of advertising revenue and tons of time on their hands." he thought to himself.)

While that briefcase was on the floor of the Metro, it was picking up vile and aggressive diseases that were left there by the shoes of homeless people, hobo's, homeless hobo's, hobo-Americans and bums. When he put that disease carrying whore of a briefcase on their bed, the hate rays emitting from the eyes of his First Lady were more than he could stand. This was worse than that time she caught him sneaking out the back door of the White House for a cigarette (who knew there was a back door to the White House? Turns out JFK loved plenty of THAT action! perv.). He left his filthy briefcase on the bed and he would never live it down.

You see, young lads, no matter how powerful or rich you may become, if you get married you will always live in a gynaecocracy. While marriage can be a beautiful thing (the WordGnome has been married twelve times in his 796 years and fathered hundreds of children...please don't tell anyone I'm in New York by the way, if I get garnished one more time I'll be washing the cat food down with Arizona Iced Tea instead of the turpentine to which I've grown accustomed)...it is a form of government, and the governatrix of that government is a woman. Hence "gynaecocracy," from the Greek "gynek-" (pronounced "gu-nayk") meaning "woman," and "kratia" meaning "rule." Not to be confused with connivingbitchocracy (Rule by Hillary) or managementconsultantdoucheocracy (Rule by Mitt Romney). Gynaecocracy can be found in every home in America. Learn it. Its an important word. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The WordGnome endorses Al Lewis for President in 2008.