The Compassionate Republican's Guide to Mastering the Art of Human Cookery

Origin . . . Crimes Against Confederate Women. Published 1869. Historical record of July 4, 1864 in Red Throat, Georgia. During the period of The War Between the States there was little civic construction, hence the main street in every small southern town was mud, deep mud after the Spring rains. The sidewalks in front of the few stores were platforms made of wood so that the dainty shopping ladies wouldn't muddy their shiny, high button shoes. Crawling in that mud, sniffing for scraps, or other dogs to fight or cats to kill was the meanest dog in town. Lean because no one in town would come within ten inches of his face to feed him. Mean because it was rumored that his grandmother had mated with a wolf. Yellow with the Mange, what hair remained was home to fleas the size of house flies. If you tried to pet him, first his fleas would bite you then he would. He was the town's "Yaller Dawg". No one in the town wanted him, not even the loneliest war widow or the smallest orphan boy. What other dogs knew and young children learned was stay away. In July 1864 the Yankee troops invaded Red Throat, Georgia. Would you believe it? That damn Yellow Dog was overjoyed, smiling, wagging his tail he joined up and let them pet him and feed him they did. That caused question marks because the town always believed that he was a firm supporter of the Confederacy and always voted DemocRat at all elections. Now he sought revenge against the town that hated him. It was the Fourth of July and the Yankee soldiers celebrated by getting drunk and looking for an amusement. That damn dog led them to my mother, sixteen years old and eight months pregnant with me, sitting in the outhouse in the backyard eliminating the remnants of her digested food. That dog sneaked those Union troops to that small structure and quietly they planted sticks of dynamite on all four sides and blew years of my family's shit and piss straight up to the sky! Luckily she had sharp ears, heard the noise of the preparation and ran out soon enough to save her life and mine. That poor, southern girl had to run for her life, her bare ass dripping and unwiped, my head coming out from between her legs and her petticoats down on her ankles like a tight rope on the feet of a cow holding her for the bull to come do its job. Those drunk, Yankee soldiers screamed for joy, threw their hats in the air and danced an Irish jig with no music. She escaped harm but remained in scared constipation the rest of her life and every generation in our family has inherited the same problem. Every time we sit on the toilet seat, between grunts, we curse the Yellow Dog, the Union Army and the Republican party. . . . Our politics . . . If the Republican party nominated Jesus Christ come down from heaven for the Presidency of the United States of America and the DemocRats nominated that Yaller Dawg. We'd vote for that damn dog. We might have to get blind drunk to do it but we would before we would ever vote for a Republican. We are Yellow Dog DemocRats from the day before we were born to the day after we die!

About the Author :
Robert Lesser is a graduate of the University of Mars where he obtained a B.S. degree in Earth Studies. Currently, he is the senior correspondent for the Martian Chronicles contributing a weekly column on Human Affairs. His first introduction was a forced landing in Roswell, New Mexico in 1946 on board a flying saucer that had been damaged by a small meteorite. He was awarded the Martian Congressional Medal of Honor for piloting his cracked saucer to a safe landing saving his entire crew andpassengers. Since all Martians have the ability to become invisible the request for complete secrecy from the U.S. Air Force Generals and the Tri-Lateral Commission was easily obtained and remains effective to this day as we walk among you. Invisibility has enhanced his career as a print journalist enabling him to be privy to the secret stealings of needy congressmen and their brothers, the Wall Street Thieves. And to produce the most popular reality television show on M9/13 'Watch the Earthlings Do IT!" (Like all Martians his eyes? Digital cameras with infrared so even your precautions of turning off your bedroom lights and pulling down the window shade will not subtract one loud laugh from the entire Martian adult population's enjoyment of watching you and your wife's bizarre earthling sex!) It should be known that Robert Lesser firmly disagrees with all the principles, content and recipes in this cookbook. It is against good health, it is wrong, cutting apart the human body into separate pieces then, broiling, boiling and frying them in gourmet sauces and spices. All the precious vitamins, anti-sickness nutrients and nourishing liquids are lost in heat of cooking. The good health these liquids promise and provide, inside the sealed envelope of the skin are lost. Our Martian method of eating you is much more civilized. We restrict our diet to capturing the Missing Children on the Sides of Milk Canons and swallow the smallest ones fingers on each hand and could, therefore, type the manuscript at less than a penny a page and finish it within the time frame of two and a half minutes! Throughout the entire plan., he and his wife are known as cultural pioneers in outer spaced intermarriage. In fact, galactic intermarriage, since he is from Mars and she is from Venus. (But adopting a liberal attitude learned on Earth, they have agreed to allow their children to choose the planet of their choice upon reaching maturity.)