The Dutch Conspiracy

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Avoid Dutch Products

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The label of Old Dutch Cleanser displays the following:
"Keep Out Of Reach Of Children; Avoid Contact With Eyes"
The Surgeon General obviously considers this product too hazardous to be used by America's youngsters, and,
apparently, the things it can do to your eyes are just too horrible to describe!

And yet in the name of "good sportsmanship" our sniveling,
vote-seeking politicians make no move to take Old Dutch Cleanser off the market.

We say, "To hell with Old Dutch Cleanser! To hell with the Amsterdamned Royal Family and and their treacherous American puppets! The spirit of Leopold I of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha will prevail!"


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"A touch. A smile. A shared memory of a special time. That look that says more than a volume of poetry. The kiss that says you are a dream come true.
Diamonds are more than a promise. Diamonds are forever."
De Beers Consolidated Mines ad
Just another of the many open invitations to adultery and lustful behavior planted in our popular publications by the Bandit Prince and his greedy gem-lords to weaken our will, so that when we hear the sound of a chain saw cutting our doors in half in the middle of the night, we'll be too sated with sickening pleasures to resist


While we're at it, it's high time to blow the whistle on the whole sly scheme of the gnomes of Zeeland for world economic domination. With the help of the Stuyvesants, the VanDerBilts, the Roojkefellers, and other double-dealing Dutch cousins who are big cheeses in Nieuw York banking circles, these guilder-grubbers use promises of diamonds --- and shares in the vast profits from their perfidious trade in narcotics made from Flanders poppies and opium tulips --- to woo greedy Wall Street tycoons into backing their plan to out the financial world onto the discredited cheese standard.

At the same time, they labor long and hard to ruin confidence in gold by flooding the Free World with gold coins that on close inspection turn out to contain nothing but chocolate. And every time some money-hungry fat cat, his brain fuddled by their flourine-laced liqueurs, falls for one of their dirty Dutch deals, millions more pour into the coffers of the Bandit Prince and his robber-burghers. And where does it go from there? It goes to finance Royal Dutch Shell, which at this very minute, under the ridiculous pretense of drilling for oil in the North Sea, is actually pumping dry this vital ocean highway, sending billions of gallons of water into the already dangerously swollen English Channel.

The Dutch timetable for conquest is clear. It's the eleventh hour on the flower clocks of the Hague. Yet while good Americans loll in their bone-crushing van der Rohe chairs, unknowingly allowing their bodies to be poisoned by radioactive Dutch Boy paints and foolishly subjecting their delicate facial follicles to the same deadly Phillips razors used by Mijnheer van Gogh to cut off his ear when he flew into a fury after learning that his plan to foist off forgeries of his work as his own had been discovered, our politicians are being seduced by buxom milkmaids at wild cheese-tasting parties at the Dutch embassy and bought off by promises of huge estates in the New Holland they'll build once the Great Lakes are drained!

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Some of the vile Gouda cheesecake with which the Dutch daily sap our moral vibrancy to make us pushovers.

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A Bum Deal?!?
In the infamous Treaty of Breda, signed in 1667, England and the Netherlands swapped Surinam and New York even-up. Thus, the English acquired a filthy harbor city where waters were badly situated for drainage and in which the scoundrel Hollanders had already built the steaming ghetos of Harlem and Bedford-Stuyvesant.
In return for this, the Soestdijk tyrants received 63.037 square miles of territory full of mixed-blood Creoles (39%), East Indians (30%), Indonesians (16%), indigenous Indians (10%), and Chinese (2%) just waiting to be mercilessly enslaved and abused.
We say it was a bum deal! And we say to hell with it!

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A poem sent in by a little girl in Buffalo, New York warmed our hearts this week. Thanks, Nikki!
Roses are red,
Tulips are bad,
I hope Prince Bernhard
Chokes on a shad.
(Shad are a kind of fish they have in Holland which I read about in geography class and we couldn't find the Frisian islands on the map, either!)


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