Iowa Terror: Securing The Perimeter


To honor the brave ballplayers wearing camo in the Major League games on Memorial Day and President Obama’s statement about cutting the troops in Afghanistan from 30,000 to 10,000 but still keeping the whole war thing going, because we need to be there to be free, killing blue donkeys, we bring you excerpts of stories of real Americans at home doing their part.

These reports come from Iowa, the big pig state — the Iowa Department of Homeland Security civilian deployed detachment of The Downtown Dubuque Wednesday Noon Kiwanis Club.

by Mike Palecek

Is this heaven?


From up here it kinda does, maybe seem like that.

I am waaay up here.

Up here.

On the water tower!

Not on the water tower, on that walkway that goes around.

We’ve got one of those silver, pointed ones, not so big, not like the big, round white ones they have in Des Moines and Cedar Falls.

Ours depicts, at various times, the town name, the current graduating class, the current mayor’s current girlfriend, and the current state of the local educational system via spelling acumen.

Well, I have been stationed here by the local city council to look for terrorists, for Jesus Iowa, maybe his gang. He might have a gang, that’s some of the reports we’ve been getting. I am scanning the perimeter.
Looking for The Iowa Terrorist, Jesus Iowa.

As well as any other terror types.

Hey, they gave me this cool pith helmet with netting, and a beeper.

I get a beeper. I’ve tried it. It beeps.

And I’ve got this assistant, Jordan.

He’s going to be in fifth grade in the fall. He sends me up extra water on this pulley system he fixed up …
Anyway … 
Maybe I’m facing the wrong way, but what I see is Mrs. Van der VanDreesen pulling into the Hy Vee lot.

She’s been pulling in for most of the morning. There’s a special on iceberg lettuce.

And I see Jarrod van de Boom. He’s driving around in the cruiser, mostly watching me.

There’s most of the city council coming out of coffee at Family Table. They’re not really supposed to get together like that, makes people think they’re planning, making decisions outside of meetings. They’re pointing up at me.
Hey, guys.

There’s the spire of Saint Judy’s Catholic Church over in CreameryVille, on the other side of the corn and soybeans and the river and the dump and the national guard armory.

There’s the lights on the ball field, the construction site for the new middle school next to the high school, the kids arranging the lawn chair sale display in the Pamida parking lot.

Some of our teams went to state last year.

The one-act play group got a gold medal in Ames. They always do. It’s a tradition. I can see apple pies cooling and blueberries ripening and I hear cardinals.

The noon whistle of the white picket fence factory is more of a toot.

And I can see how Jesus Iowa would want to ruin it all.


It’s rumored that he hates us for our hand-sized bluegills and the smell of wood smoke and lawn leaves and he steals leaves.

As any good terrorist knows, the way to really stick it to freedom is to demolish icons.

Well, I’ll keep my eyes peeled.

Is this a great country?

Or what?

That is the question.

Looking for the truth about America. It’s become a cottage industry these days.

Most of us are in the habit of believing things — especially when they come from mainstream sources.
We believe things mostly because we see them on TV, or because a “respected” expert or leader assures us they are true.

Geezuz, don’t do that.

That’s where we are, where we’re heading, to the place where nobody believes anything coming out of Washington, D.C., printed in our major newspapers, seen on TV, heard on the radio, because we know it’s all lies — the way the folks leaning on the bar in the Rusty Sickle in downtown Moscow must have felt about each pronouncement that came from the Kremlin, Tass, Pravda.

Just shaking their heads, saying, what a lying bunch of sons of midgets and musk ox.

Show me the difference.

The only difference is that it is us, and it’s now, and it’s here — and we can’t believe this is happening to us. And we will deny it is happening to us for the rest of our lives.

Remember those press conferences on TV where the director of Homeland Security stands up there with the director of the FBI?

They are sporting spanking new “Look The Fuck Out” terror-orange hardhats and T-shirts and padded vests, with hip waders, and camo, waterproof hunting boots cut to the calf.

Duck calls sticking out of their back pockets.

That was leading up to the last presidential election.

They don’t have those anymore. I wonder why.

We’re getting ready to blow the hell out of the Iranians — who are each and everyone born terrorists of course — and so now we have to have terrorists in a New York City airport.

Well … to show that it makes perfect sense to kill the Iranians. Time to re-Duct Tape your windows, dude.

We forget too easily.


Remember how George W. Bush came to power. A coup d’etat.

He stole The Presidential Election.
Abetted by The Supreme Court and The Free Press.

We, some of us — I, suspect he and his junta engineered 911, murdered Paul Wellstone, lied about WMD.
The killers have secret prisons in Poland and Romania and Disneyland and they torture people. All this for power.

Well, anyway … Don’t worry about a thing.

The perimeter is secure.

I’ll let you know if I see anything.

Hasta los tacos.

And there is Lula Vander Zwaag.

I could see a lot more if I had some binos. Hey!

Heeey, Jordaaan!

Iowa Terror
art by Ben Heine, Allison M. Healy, Russell Brutsche, Ian Ward



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