Fishing With Kim Jong Il
Ever fished with a dictator? It's killer.
by Alan Jones
April 1, 2005
A recent press release from North Korea's government-controlled news agency reports that their
'Dear Leader,' Kim Jong Il, has shot the greatest round of golf ever played, a 34 for 18 holes,
which is a smooth 38 under par that includes five holes-in-one ... not bad for his first time
golfing (for a full recap of his incredible feat, click on
www.anyonefortee.com/Shots/Kim.html).
Obviously, having mastered the sport of golf on his very first try, it's time for him to move on to
new and greater exploits, and this time he sets his sights on the fishing world. So move over Kevin
VanDam and Jay Yelas, there's a new sheriff in town.
Having seen all the TV fishing shows, Kim Jong Il decides he needs a good ol' boy nickname,
so he forms a committee of his most loyal aides, and the names they come up with are: 'Supreme
Leader,' 'Great Leader,' 'Illustrious Leader,' and 'Great Supreme Illustrious Leader.' He thanks
them for their service and has them shot (not in that order).
It is then that 'Leader Dearest' realizes that to have the perfect fishing nickname he needs
to go
to an expert, so he hires Chris Berman, the sportscaster who has conjured up such gems as:
Burt 'Be Home' Blyleven, Eddie 'Eat, Drink and Be' Murray, and Scott 'Supercalifragilisticexpiala'
Brosius. The ones he comes up with (before being shot) are: K-Jong 'I'm Feeling A Little' Il ...
Kim 'Bang a' Jong Il ... 'Lil'' Kim J, and the one the brutal dictator finally decides to use:
'Great Hook 'n' Leader.'
For his first outing, the 'Great Hooker' brings along two 'fresh' (non-shot) loyal aides to
assist him with the documenting of what will surely be the greatest day of fishing ever, so that he
may demonstrate his 'extreme incredibleness' to the 'useful idiots' in the western world. On the
first cast the Hook 'n' Leader backlashes, causing an enormous bird's nest to 'Don King' up from
his Shakespeare bait-casting reel. The Jongster turns red and demands that the designer of the reel
be shot. One of his aides, recognizing the name Shakespeare from his list of forbidden literature,
says, 'He is dead, Dear Leader.' And KJ answers, 'You are most efficient; thank you for your
promptness.'
This time, using a Mickey Mouse push-button reel, Kimbo manages to hit the water, and a
hidden diver quickly attaches a small bluegill to the hook. Thanks to the athletic prowess that he
has demonstrated on the golf course, he reels the fish in after a 30-minute fight. The aide weighs
it on a scale on which he has scratched out the word 'gram' and has painted the word 'pound' in its
place. 'Congratulations Dear Hook 'n' Leader,' the aide says, 'your 52-pound bluegill has shattered
the world record by more than 47-pounds.' The dictator, who has caused the starvation of millions
of his people, looks at the scale and says, 'It looks more like 53 to me.' Bang!
The next fish is a '155-pound' bass that the remaining aide nervously enters into his ledger,
followed by a 224-pound pike, a monstrous 517-pound catfish, and a 1,008-pound sailfish, which is a
remarkable catch, considering the tackle used and the fact that very few of them have ever been
spotted in small freshwater ponds before.
After a hard day of fishing in which 117 records are set, the Hook 'n' Leader takes the time
to reflect upon his accomplishments over refreshments that include a tumbler full of chilled Elit,
the world's most expensive vodka, along with a hatbox-sized tin of Beluga caviar. After a couple of
gulps, the Dear Leader's mood turns pensive. 'You know,' he says, 'sometimes I think that instead
of spending all my country's money on keeping a standing million-man army, pursuing nuclear
weapons, building luxurious houses stocked with expensive western goods, or chasing beautiful
women, that I might take that money and use it instead to feed my people and build hospitals,
schools and libraries with all kinds of books. I could throw off the cloak of secrecy and the
oppression of fear that my people have lived under for almost a half a century and open up our
society to the rest of the world' (in addition to the one week a year that tourists are now allowed
to visit).
Reflecting over what he has just said, he remains silent for a few minutes, runs his hand
through his Kramer-eske permed hair, wryly smiles and finally says, 'Naaaaaah.'