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Jason Kenney Demonstrates the Basics of Trickle Down Economics

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“The trickle-down approach to economic policy—what an older and less elegant generation called the horse-and-sparrow theory: 'If you feed the horse enough oats, some will pass through to the road for the sparrows.”

-Harvard Economist John Kenneth Galbraith

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This is a depiction of the time Jason Kenney demonstrated the fundamentals of trickle down economics. About a week ago he hosted an investors group in the hopes of drumming interest in Alberta’s flailing oil and gas sector at the expense of every other aspect of economic, civil, and social life in Alberta. Kenney was desperate to please, and no expense was spared. The visitors were inundated with lavish gifts of provincial note: gilded truck nuts, $400 cowboy hats, and little prank cans that unleash a skittering geyser of pine beetles when you open them.  

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Kenney’s hosting was manic and overbearing. He crawled about the floor and the investors shifted uncomfortably in their chairs and politely declined yet another foot rub. Doug, a wideset Texas oil baron commented that he liked Kenney’s belt buckle and without pause he immediately removed it, along with his pants, and handed it over. Eyes in the room lit up and a cruel game of one-upmanship ensued, everyone seeing how far Kenney could be pushed.

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“Can I abandon wells and stick the province with the bill?”
“Can you sell me crown land so I can strip mine the foothills for coal?”
“Can you lower minimum wage?”
“Can you slash the education budget so that the Albertan workforce becomes a hobbled vassal class beholden to the arbitrary and greedy whims of its employers?”
“Yeah, Kenney, we want a vassal state”
“It’s the only way to revitalize the economy”
 

Every request was met with Kenney’s vigorous nods. Errant spittle pinpricks ejecting from his frothing mouth, body shaking, jowls flapping like the loose ailerons of a Cessna in blind freefall. Under his breath he was wheezing “anything. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll do anything”

 

“Can you uh… shit in your own mouth”

 

After a brief pause, a high pitch low volume squeal, and a gleeful slither of his head Kenney folded himself into a pasty ouroboros. His knees and heels immediately began to shudder like an upright dog coiled on fresh morning grass. The onlookers could barely bring themselves to witness the wretched spectacle. As Kenney grunted his shoulders past his ankles to come under full view of the nestled brown star they kept their attention half devoted to their phone screens as they idly perused the foreign villas in which they would be injecting their newfound wealth.

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Just as his tightly curled anus started to slacken, heralding an auburn cascade, Kenney’s mother walked into the basement. A finely organized plate of pizza pockets clattered to the ground. She was horrified, disappointed, and unsurprised.

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“Shame on you! Taking advantage of my poor stupid boy like this. He looks up to you all so much, and this is what you do? All he wanted to do was play cowboy with his oil buddies and here you are, making him shit into his own mouth. You’re better than this. All of you.”

“Sorry ma’am”
“Yes sorry”
“We just wanted a vassal state”

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They shuffled out of the room, eyes cast downwards, cowboy hat brims obscuring muffled grins.

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When the room was empty Kenney’s mother turned her attention to her sweet little boy “Jason, you know I don’t like you hanging out with those men. You have to remember that they have educations, real jobs, they’re just not like you. Why can’t you just hang out with the other inept fuckheads in your little clubhouse?”

 

Kenney unfurled himself, face reddened. “You’ll never understand me! Nobody does! Those men are my friends! They’re here to help me! They’re here to help all of us!” Then he wiped the poo off his lips and stormed into his room to listen to My Chemical Romance.

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3ft x 3ft, acrylic on canvas