A Simple Stunning Fact Staring Us Right In The Face

If you listen to the AM Talk Radio hatemongers (which I do – to keep tabs), all of our societal and governmental ills are a direct result of liberalism and the Godless sodomite Democrats.

But I just realized something startling: in the last 40 years there have been a grand total of 2 Democratic presidents. Two! I am blown away by that! I think the seething, over-the-top hatred of Liberals that’s been rampant in our country in the wake of Clinton has really done a number on my perspective. Simple chronological facts don’t quite grab a person’s attention like the typical Ann Coulter book title.

So we’ve had 28 years of Republican rule versus 12 of Democratic. And 6 of the last 8 years were an absolutely unopposed free-for-all for Republicans to make this country into the Conservative Utopia that they’ve wanted since the 60’s.

And we find ourselves unimaginably fucked. We are so fucked that we don’t even yet KNOW how fucked we are. They failed. Spectacularly.

Yet Hannity and Limbaugh et al, are, of course, telling their moronic listeners that this is all the fault of the Democrats. And John McCain is blaming Barack Obama (which is OUTRAGEOUS!!). And Sarah Palin is, of course, being prepped to blame Barack Obama when she debates on Thursday night.

The fact that these people would lie and play this sort of bitterly partisan politics at this frightening moment in our nation’s history is just….well, I am now officially of the opinion that Republicans (yes, blanket statement – complete unapologetic generalization) are just dispicable human beings. Seriously.

How in the world did the Democrats ever let them steal the moral high ground?

Because they certainly think they have it. On one of my trips out canvassing for Barack Obama, I stopped at one lady’s house and she said she was going to vote for John McCain because: “Republicans fall more in line with my morals.”

She said it softly and patronizingly (because, knowing The Light and The Way, as she does, she is superior to me), and she went on to sing the praises of Sarah Palin.

I smiled and did not say what I was thinking: So, lying and cheating and covering up your mistakes with more lies runs in your family, does it?

People like this woman are over the moon about the idea of Sarah Palin ascending to the White House! It doesn’t matter that she would wreak havoc on this planet like Godzilla over Japan, because at least she would do so having never had an abortion. And that’s what’s important.

Ugh. I can not even entertain the mere thought of Obama not winning this election and that’s what my mind is doing the longer I sit here and write. So I’m going to go and get ready for bed and watch a wholesome decent program like Family Guy (the creator of which, Seth MacFarlane, is a fine, upstanding atheist; and a man who’s fetus I would be PROUD to abort!)

Tomorrow is another day and the fight goes on! And remember: since 1969, FIVE (!) Republican presidents to two Democrat. If you wanna go back to Lincoln, there’s been 17 Republicans to 10 Democrat. 90 years Republican VS 60 years Democratic.

All those years of “leadership” and the party has reached a point where they have absolutely nothing good or positive to claim as their own. The only thing they have left is lies and ugy, desperate attacks. Conservatives, join the Libertarians and just let the Republican party die. Give it over to the Jesus freaks and let them run it into the ground.

Poor Ann Coulter

It’s only been a few weeks since the lanky provocateur orchestrated her last scandal and already no one is paying any attention to her again!

Poor Ann. We all got over this one much too quickly.

She needs the headlines so desperately, but she’s painting herself into the corner. What else can you possibly say after calling a presidential candidate a faggot that stirs the public outrage? Very little.

Frankly, I only see one horrifying conclusion to the spectacle of this woman’s public existence: she will eventually have to show us her penis.

Whether it’ll be the sans panties limo exit (just imagine her balls glistening with sweat!), or an ill-timed erection that juts out and ruins the line of her pencil skirt, I don’t rightly know.

But mere words will no longer suffice. It’s got to be action. And when she gets that little itch that tells her it’s time for her next fix of attention-whoring, she’ll do it. One day. I know she’ll do it.

And until that magical day, here’s an oldie but a goodie from back when Ann could really make sparks fly. *Cue Barbra Streisand, Memories like the coooorners of my miiiind*

Tuuuuuesday Afternoons

…are always spent in varying states of exhaustion. And this one is no exception.

The following post is prefaced with apologies for any and all typos, inanities, and inadvertent threats to harm the president. I assure you (and any lurking FBI agents), that the presence of any of the above is regretable and absolutely unintentional.

I worked all night until 7:00AM and then did my volunteer gig tutoring at an adult literacy center for a few hours, so I should not be here. I should be shuffling off to get some shut-eye. But having just watched Dawkins on CNN, sleep has slipped down in rank on my to-do list.

I was so pleased with his appearance.

It’s such an exquisitely rare occurrence to encounter anything even remotely challenging to religion and the existence of God on national television in America that, when there’s promise of an actual M.A.S.D. (Motherfucking Atheist Show-Down), I worry that the good guys will lose their cool and overplay their hand in all the excitement. Y’know, choke.

I remember Dawkins clenching his jaw and swallowing visibly hard at Ted Haggard’s aggressive blustering in The Root of All Evil. So I admit, I had my fingers crossed, imagining a brutal horror show of an ill-conceived round table going at it ruthlessly.

But, ah, embarrassing crisis handily averted. Well done.

That Christian who couldn’t stop trying to shout everyone else down was certainly an insecure little asshole, though, wasn’t he?

Norm at onegoodmove has got all the pertinent video, interesting commentary, and interesting reader comments.

Now That She’s Dead, We Got Nothin’ But Love

“When I found out at work that she died, I actually gasped. I didn’t realize how much I liked her until now.” – ‘Lizzy’, in a  gossip blog comment

Anna Nicole Smith keels over unexpectedly, and we reward her with an outpouring of sympathy and respect. Or maybe we just feel guilty.

Gone are the once ubiquitous, unflattering pictures of fat Anna cartoonishly posing in ill-fitting, clingy dresses, that accompanied so many articles criticising her for her multitude of societal crimes.

Now it’s all soft-focus, professionally-lit glamour shots of flawless beauty that grace the columns and blog posts written in gentle, heart-sick tones of shock and sorrow.  

Women are bereft by the terrible sadness of a lonely, confused woman leaving behind an infant to an uncertain future. And men, demonstrating a gaping hole in Hallmark’s bereavement card repertoire, are offering their own tributes by tenderly declaring that Anna Nicole was still hot enough to fuck. 

There is just nothing like an early death to remind us that, celebrities, no matter how irritating, no matter how seemingly useless a fixture they may be in our lives, are still human beings just like us. And we kinda miss them when they’re gone.

Paris Hilton, I hope you are paying attention.

One Less Homosexual In The World, Godly Americans Rejoice

After three weeks of intense counselling, it was announced yesterday that disgraced pastor, Ted Haggard, has been officially diagnosed as ‘Not Gay Anymore’.

The awesome power of modern psychological therapy, eh? Three weeks is all it took. Even busy-bee James Dobson thought it would take 4 or 5 years.

Somewhere, Donnie Davies is smiling.

According to the Rev. Tim Ralph:

“He is completely heterosexual,” Ralph said. “That is something he discovered. It was the acting-out situations where things took place. It wasn’t a constant thing.”

First, it’s really cute the way he calls blow jobs and meth-fueled butt sex “things”.

Secondly, one does not “discover” one is a heterosexual at 50 years of age unless, perhaps, one has just awakened from a 38 year state of vegetation.

Thirdly, everything Tim Ralph says is a complete and utter lie. He doesn’t believe Haggard is straight any more than I do. He’s like Paul Bremer handing power over to Iraq in that weird, quickie ceremony thingy in 2004 when Bremer couldn’t throw the documents at Allawi fast enough so he could get the fuck out of that dangerous shit hole and back to America.

Ted Haggard is New Life Church’s Iraq. He’s a liability and could cause significant financial damage to his former church, possibly to the entire megachurch empire in Colorado Springs.

This announcement is a rushed public relations campaign to tell the sad little lambs that a happy ending is just round the corner – that Pastor Ted has redeemed himself, he is right as rain and all about scoring the wifely pussy. It’s aim is to put the ugly, sordid affair behind them. And it will be followed by shuffling Ted the fuck out of the area as quickly as possible to become someone else‘s problem.

And what a shame. Think of the powerful message of forgiveness it would send to the parish to allow new, improved Macho Ted to come back and resume his duties. Isn’t that what Christianity is supposed to be about at it’s heart?

The church overseers are telling us that Ted has been successfully cured, but their actions are certainly suggesting that they aren’t willing to put their money where their mouths are. So we have to assume that the risk of backfire is of greater importance to them than the reward of practical, concrete application of God’s word.

Interesting.

Creative Drooling

Generally speaking, I’m a big fan of men.      I like the way they think and I love talking to them.    

The vast majority of the women I meet are well-versed only in topics relating to family. It’s either about their boyfriend/husband/children; their desire to have a boyfriend/husband/children; or they are angry with their boyfriend/husband/children and want to bitch.  

Because I am a woman, they usually assume that I share their desires for domestic completion. However, I can endure only so much talk from a woman about her children’s exploits before I want to rip my hair out of my head and shove it down her neck.

Men are more worldly, and even the most knuckle-draggingest of neanderthals can be counted on to have at least a few opinions about current events, or reasonably interesting tastes in music or movies. And I appreciate that.

There are only two conversational areas in which men lose me. One is sports. The other is hot babes.

Like, I’m a huge fan of Howard Stern – but when he goes on and on and on and on and on about some ‘smoking hot broad’ in his studio, it drives me insane. “Okay, okay – we get it – you want to stick your penis inside her. Will you please move on to something more interesting!”, I scream at the radio.  

I understand there is that fundamental difference between men and women – men think about sex every 3 seconds while women think about shoes and chocolate. But still, how interesting can it be for anyone, even another man, to listen to someone drool about a sexy woman for more than a minute or so? I mean, there’s only so much you can say until you start repeating yourself and boring the fuck out of anyone within earshot.

This guy found another angle.

By a Show of Hands, Please

Who else was secretly hoping that Gerald Ford’s coffin would be dropped somewhere along the trail of his last public outing? 

Fess up.  I know I can’t be the only one who’s been thinking about Chevy Chase more in these last 6 days than in the last decade.

 Hope you had a nice holiday.

And Let’s Not Forget The Guy Who’s Last Name Was ‘Butt’ — He Pronounced It “BYOOT”

Tonight at work, I spoke to a woman on the phone and asked her what her name was.    She pronounced it “Cah-RIN”.     

“And how do you spell that?” I asked, running down a mental checklist of the many spelling variations that I have seen of her name.

She spelled it:  “K-a-r-e-n.”

I trust many native English speakers reading this will, as I did, roll their eyes and think vile things about her for being so ridiculously contrary about something that is commonly understood and accepted by a vast majority.      

Her name is not “Cah-RIN”.  It is Karen.  And, as Karen Carpenter did and the lovely Karen Grassle still does, it is pronounced “CARE-en”.

Is life just not difficult enough for her, I thought, irritated, as I finished up my business on the phone with her, that she must add one more arduous task to it?    I wondered  how often she’d corrected people in the course of her life and bitterly resented her for needlessly adding another tiny little dollop of confusion into our already chaotic world.

Later in the evening, I thought about my friend Janice from elementary school. 

Janice pronounced her name as “Juh-NEESE”.

Every year on the first day of school when the teacher would take attendance by calling out each student’s name, the teacher would get to Janice’s name and call out “JA-nis G.?”, and every year Janice would correct him or her.    And if our regular teacher was out ill for the day, she would correct the substitute teacher during that attendance call.  

But what I remembered last night was my reaction to Janice and her name.  And my reaction was no reaction at all.   She was simply a girl who liked her name pronounced Juh-NEESE and I accepted it fully and completely, without any judgement.

It’s very little wonder that I recall being a much happier individual then as compared to the one I have become. 

The fact that this Karen woman, a stranger that I will likely never speak to again, pronounces her name differently should not matter the slightest to me.     Yet it irritated me enough that once I finished with her phone call, I complained to other people in the room about it and they all groaned about it, too!       Misery has the best tea parties. 

It happens to so many of us.  We get comfy in a rut, stay too long in a job that fulfills only one of our needs, and our unhappiness begins to show.  

It’s been 30 years since I was in elementary school and sometime between then and now, life has worn me down to the point where I can become pissed off about the way a woman pronounces her name.   Fortunately, I’m still young and strong enough to beat the fucker back.   The question is, will I? 

It’s clear to me that I must.  Because people will never, ever stop being irritating, troublesome, pains in the arse.   And if I don’t start addressing my own attitude toward this truth, then the things that bother me will become even tinier.     And that’s a scary thought. 

“Hell is other people.” – Sartre