As much as you want it, you can't have it both ways. You have to give something up to get something else. You can trick yourself into thinking you can have the cake and eat it too, but you can't. You gotta choose. And once the choice is made, you have to stick with it.
We want democracy in Iraq and our troops home soon. Pick one or the other, brother. We want full benefits from social security, but we don't want to pay more taxes or our future benefits to change. Pick one or the other, mother. We want to cure disease, but we don't want to harvest embryos. Pick one or the other, Mr. President.
It's a bitch, that's for sure. For us to have the one, we have to compromise the other. It's the whole conservation of matter deal. To desire both is to flaunt reality and common sense. And you ought not try it. As they say on the traffic reports, "pick your lane and stay with it".
Balls.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Thursday, January 20, 2005
An Open Letter to John Kerry
Senator,
I recently received, along with many other of your post-election mailings, a request to log onto your website and sign an electronic petition calling for Donald Rumsfeld's resignation. Here's the deal. Cut it out. I can't take 4 years of your weekly bullshit. I agree that Rumsfeld should go, but I don't believe you should be leading the charge. Mainly because I think your motivation is to keep the fire burning for a Kerry 2008 campaign.
You can't win in 2008. A run for the nomination will be as futile as Lieberman's was in 2004. Your fate is to go down in history as the guy who lost by the least to a 2nd term president winning re-election (3%, for trivia buffs). You gave us great hope, you mobilized us in ways we've never been mobilized before, you were able to take the excitement of the Dean movement and marshall it behind your candidacy. You did everything you could do.
Except win. I'm not going to blame Bob Shrum, but I am going to pose the following question: Team B normally wears red jerseys for football games. But sometimes, Team B will wear the green jerseys for special games. Team B's overall record against Team A is 11-14. However, when wearing the green jerseys, team B is 0-8 against Team A.
OK, it's the night of the pep rally, and Coach Kerry says "we're going with Shrum (I mean the green jerseys). If this was the most important election of our lifetime, which was a line Kerry/Edwards uttered more than once, what the fuck were we doing wearing the green jerseys? Did anyone talk to Coach Carville? How could we lose this winnable game at the most important time of the season?
I don't know. Zogby doesn't know. Unless you can prove you were robbed, nobody will ever know. AND, unless you can prove you were robbed, you'll never get another chance. When sports teams blow it, and lose games they are supposed to win, generally the head coach or the manager is fired. The fish rots from the head, they say. You were definately the head of this game plan. You blew the winning hand.
Here's a play on the "Dated Dean, Married Kerry" signs that sprouted up after Iowa and New Hampshire:
Dated Dean
Married Kerry
Rendered Impotent by Kerry
Sodomized by Bush
Approached romantically by Kerry to rekindle the flame
Told Kerry to Get Bent
Jerked off in the closet to pictures of Obama and McCain in anticipation of 2008
Give it up, Senator. It's over.
I recently received, along with many other of your post-election mailings, a request to log onto your website and sign an electronic petition calling for Donald Rumsfeld's resignation. Here's the deal. Cut it out. I can't take 4 years of your weekly bullshit. I agree that Rumsfeld should go, but I don't believe you should be leading the charge. Mainly because I think your motivation is to keep the fire burning for a Kerry 2008 campaign.
You can't win in 2008. A run for the nomination will be as futile as Lieberman's was in 2004. Your fate is to go down in history as the guy who lost by the least to a 2nd term president winning re-election (3%, for trivia buffs). You gave us great hope, you mobilized us in ways we've never been mobilized before, you were able to take the excitement of the Dean movement and marshall it behind your candidacy. You did everything you could do.
Except win. I'm not going to blame Bob Shrum, but I am going to pose the following question: Team B normally wears red jerseys for football games. But sometimes, Team B will wear the green jerseys for special games. Team B's overall record against Team A is 11-14. However, when wearing the green jerseys, team B is 0-8 against Team A.
OK, it's the night of the pep rally, and Coach Kerry says "we're going with Shrum (I mean the green jerseys). If this was the most important election of our lifetime, which was a line Kerry/Edwards uttered more than once, what the fuck were we doing wearing the green jerseys? Did anyone talk to Coach Carville? How could we lose this winnable game at the most important time of the season?
I don't know. Zogby doesn't know. Unless you can prove you were robbed, nobody will ever know. AND, unless you can prove you were robbed, you'll never get another chance. When sports teams blow it, and lose games they are supposed to win, generally the head coach or the manager is fired. The fish rots from the head, they say. You were definately the head of this game plan. You blew the winning hand.
Here's a play on the "Dated Dean, Married Kerry" signs that sprouted up after Iowa and New Hampshire:
Dated Dean
Married Kerry
Rendered Impotent by Kerry
Sodomized by Bush
Approached romantically by Kerry to rekindle the flame
Told Kerry to Get Bent
Jerked off in the closet to pictures of Obama and McCain in anticipation of 2008
Give it up, Senator. It's over.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
The Inauguration Of George W. Bush (Part II)
When it comes to Presidential Politics, I can never get it right. I have voted in every Presidential Election since 1984, and I have yet to vote for a winner. In fact, this year was the first year that I voted for the actual nominee in the Democratic primary. I had been winless every year prior.
In 1984, I wasn't old enough to vote in the primary, but Walter Mondale got my vote in November. In '88, Jesse Jackson took my Democratic Primary vote in Florida, but I came around and really, really wanted Dukakis to win in November. By 1992, I was convinced that the two party system was corrupt beyond repair, so when Jerry Brown, who captured my primary vote in the Virginia Primary, was no longer viable, I was seduced by the crazy Ross Perot. But the Clinton victory was still celebrated, although I would have been much happier with the destruction of the 2-party system.
In 1996, I had no real complaints with Clinton. I did think he abondoned the health care issue too swiftly, and I was suspicious about what he was up to with welfare reform, and the Newt Gingrich Republican Revolution was on his watch. So, I didn't vote in the primary, and voted for Perot again, knowing full well a Clinton re-election was imminent.
In 2000, the evils of the two-party system manifested themselves in the Bush-Gore nominations. Both Bill Bradley and John McCain were Presidential. Gore and Bush were caricature dim-wits. Yet Bush and Gore had the money and the party elite behind them, and both were able to slime their way to victory. I voted for Ralph Nadar in November, but Gore won my state, so I didn't feel guilty. I was less concerned about the person he lost to than I was the manner in which he lost. As long as I live, I will be convinced that Al Gore won Florida, and a diabolical effort by Jeb Bush and Katherine Harris stole the state for the Gov's bro. But it didn't matter, really, one douchebag beat another douchebag.
After September 11th, I was a Bush fan. He was graceful and strong, comforting and steadfast. He said and did all the right things. Until the war drums started beating, and Iraq started to come into play.
Critics claim that Paul O'Neil and Richard Clarke are crackpots, but both these men are more accomplished and honorable than most of us can ever hope to be. Their insights into the Bush White House demonstrate a clear objective to conjure up a rationale to attack Iraq, at any cost. And they exploited 9/11 to put the plan in motion. A doctrine of pre-emption is scary stuff, even if one is convinced an attack is imminent. To plunge the United States into such a doctrine using faulty and hyped intelligence (not to mention the exploitation of fear) is a complete betrayal of our national interest and our national security. We will run out of diplomatic ass cover some day soon, and an international tragedy will ensue because someone is going to pre-empt someone else, and cite our actions in March 2003.
Regardless, the point is that I was fired up, pissed off, and I felt guilty. So I volunteered to go to Boston and work the Convention. I couldn't decide on a nominee before it was all over. I liked Dean, was intrigued by Clark, thought Kucinich was principled (my vote is usually less about pragmatism and more about principle), but after Kerry romped in Iowa and New Hampshire, I had no choice. I recognized he was the establishment candidate, and somehow, despite being left for dead, he was able to rally and win, and of course I was cynical and irritated. Dean was getting done dirty. But it didn't matter. Nadar was being an insane jackass, and we had to get these assholes out of town.
So there I was. Boston was great, hope was alive. Obama! The sick Karl Rove driven bullshit with the medals and the Swift Boat ads were troubling, but hope was alive. As the tracking polls broke Kerry's way in the final days before the election, I was excited for our democracy. As I stood in the longest line I have ever stood in to vote, I was moved to tears. Moved because our country was about to move forward, we were going to reject fear and stupidity and false bravado, and pigfucker oil theives.
When Zogby predicted a Kerry win with more than 310 Electoral Votes, elation, joy. When Ohio fell 10 hours later, I was crushed, disgusted, convinced there was funny business, and somehow these cocksuckers had figured out how to steal the election again.
Then the pundits started talking about the morality vote. Where were the fucking pastors on the immorality of war? What part of the "Thou Shalt Not Kill" was being lost on these fucking morality voters? Is it a greater sin to stick your dick in another man's ass than to kill innocent Iraqi civilians under the false pretense of "self-defense"? Fuck, I said, fuck fucking this. I'm done. Take America, assholes, run it into the ground. Fuck it up beyond belief. I got mine, I make good money, my kids and family will never want. Fuck it. What can I do to exploit the situation and make it better for me? I am out, and I don't care anymore.
Two months have passed, and I'm still saddened and disgusted by what has transpired. But I'm getting over it. I am heartened by the fact that, if there is a God, on judgement day, George W. Bush will be held to account for what he did in Iraq. Even if he's right about abortion and stem cells, the same God that would say "Good on ya" for his positions on those issues will sentence him to eternal damnation for his recklessness with the death penalty in Texas and his role in the deaths of tens of thousands of innocent Iraqis. I would love to see the look on his face as his sentence is explained to him, it would be more precious than his most befuddled expression during the 1st Kerry debate. Unfortunately, I'd probably have to be dead to see it, so fuck it, I'll just fantasize.
Which brings me to January 20th, 2005. I will be in downtown DC, celebrating our democracy. Since I moved here in 1990, I've never missed one, and I don't intend to miss this one, despite my unhappiness with the result. I will be there because I still love my country, and despite his flaws, and his future reservation in a dark corner of hell, I still respect and honor the position of President of the United States. Surprisingly, there will be a religious theme to my celebration this year. I will pray to the Gods of the Universe that they grant GW Bush the wisdom to carry out a diplomatic strategy that reduces tensions and truly makes the world a safer place. I will pray that our country reconnects with our generations-old allies in Europe to re-partner in the work of spreading democracy peacefully throughout the world. I will also pray that our President does right by the future senior citizens of this country, and comes up with an equitable way to fix social security. He will need help, because his tendancies are rotten but his aim, on this issue, is pure. The Democrats are wrong on this issue - by using the social security surplus to offset the deficit during the past two decades, we have created a financial calamity of biblical proportions that will come home to roost in the mid 2000's. I think privatization is kind of bullshit without addressing the hundreds of billions of lost trust funds first, but it's a start toward a solution. Finally, I will pray that Howard Dean takes control of the DNC, because he's the best anti-establishment dude we have right now. Oh yeah, and I'll also pray that John McCain runs and wins the Republican nomination in 2008. I could vote for that dude. If the Dems put up a shithole against McCain, the man has the first republican vote of my life.
And the final religious theme for my inauguration day celebration is this: I pray that i'm drunk as be-Jesus by the swearing in ceremony.
In 1984, I wasn't old enough to vote in the primary, but Walter Mondale got my vote in November. In '88, Jesse Jackson took my Democratic Primary vote in Florida, but I came around and really, really wanted Dukakis to win in November. By 1992, I was convinced that the two party system was corrupt beyond repair, so when Jerry Brown, who captured my primary vote in the Virginia Primary, was no longer viable, I was seduced by the crazy Ross Perot. But the Clinton victory was still celebrated, although I would have been much happier with the destruction of the 2-party system.
In 1996, I had no real complaints with Clinton. I did think he abondoned the health care issue too swiftly, and I was suspicious about what he was up to with welfare reform, and the Newt Gingrich Republican Revolution was on his watch. So, I didn't vote in the primary, and voted for Perot again, knowing full well a Clinton re-election was imminent.
In 2000, the evils of the two-party system manifested themselves in the Bush-Gore nominations. Both Bill Bradley and John McCain were Presidential. Gore and Bush were caricature dim-wits. Yet Bush and Gore had the money and the party elite behind them, and both were able to slime their way to victory. I voted for Ralph Nadar in November, but Gore won my state, so I didn't feel guilty. I was less concerned about the person he lost to than I was the manner in which he lost. As long as I live, I will be convinced that Al Gore won Florida, and a diabolical effort by Jeb Bush and Katherine Harris stole the state for the Gov's bro. But it didn't matter, really, one douchebag beat another douchebag.
After September 11th, I was a Bush fan. He was graceful and strong, comforting and steadfast. He said and did all the right things. Until the war drums started beating, and Iraq started to come into play.
Critics claim that Paul O'Neil and Richard Clarke are crackpots, but both these men are more accomplished and honorable than most of us can ever hope to be. Their insights into the Bush White House demonstrate a clear objective to conjure up a rationale to attack Iraq, at any cost. And they exploited 9/11 to put the plan in motion. A doctrine of pre-emption is scary stuff, even if one is convinced an attack is imminent. To plunge the United States into such a doctrine using faulty and hyped intelligence (not to mention the exploitation of fear) is a complete betrayal of our national interest and our national security. We will run out of diplomatic ass cover some day soon, and an international tragedy will ensue because someone is going to pre-empt someone else, and cite our actions in March 2003.
Regardless, the point is that I was fired up, pissed off, and I felt guilty. So I volunteered to go to Boston and work the Convention. I couldn't decide on a nominee before it was all over. I liked Dean, was intrigued by Clark, thought Kucinich was principled (my vote is usually less about pragmatism and more about principle), but after Kerry romped in Iowa and New Hampshire, I had no choice. I recognized he was the establishment candidate, and somehow, despite being left for dead, he was able to rally and win, and of course I was cynical and irritated. Dean was getting done dirty. But it didn't matter. Nadar was being an insane jackass, and we had to get these assholes out of town.
So there I was. Boston was great, hope was alive. Obama! The sick Karl Rove driven bullshit with the medals and the Swift Boat ads were troubling, but hope was alive. As the tracking polls broke Kerry's way in the final days before the election, I was excited for our democracy. As I stood in the longest line I have ever stood in to vote, I was moved to tears. Moved because our country was about to move forward, we were going to reject fear and stupidity and false bravado, and pigfucker oil theives.
When Zogby predicted a Kerry win with more than 310 Electoral Votes, elation, joy. When Ohio fell 10 hours later, I was crushed, disgusted, convinced there was funny business, and somehow these cocksuckers had figured out how to steal the election again.
Then the pundits started talking about the morality vote. Where were the fucking pastors on the immorality of war? What part of the "Thou Shalt Not Kill" was being lost on these fucking morality voters? Is it a greater sin to stick your dick in another man's ass than to kill innocent Iraqi civilians under the false pretense of "self-defense"? Fuck, I said, fuck fucking this. I'm done. Take America, assholes, run it into the ground. Fuck it up beyond belief. I got mine, I make good money, my kids and family will never want. Fuck it. What can I do to exploit the situation and make it better for me? I am out, and I don't care anymore.
Two months have passed, and I'm still saddened and disgusted by what has transpired. But I'm getting over it. I am heartened by the fact that, if there is a God, on judgement day, George W. Bush will be held to account for what he did in Iraq. Even if he's right about abortion and stem cells, the same God that would say "Good on ya" for his positions on those issues will sentence him to eternal damnation for his recklessness with the death penalty in Texas and his role in the deaths of tens of thousands of innocent Iraqis. I would love to see the look on his face as his sentence is explained to him, it would be more precious than his most befuddled expression during the 1st Kerry debate. Unfortunately, I'd probably have to be dead to see it, so fuck it, I'll just fantasize.
Which brings me to January 20th, 2005. I will be in downtown DC, celebrating our democracy. Since I moved here in 1990, I've never missed one, and I don't intend to miss this one, despite my unhappiness with the result. I will be there because I still love my country, and despite his flaws, and his future reservation in a dark corner of hell, I still respect and honor the position of President of the United States. Surprisingly, there will be a religious theme to my celebration this year. I will pray to the Gods of the Universe that they grant GW Bush the wisdom to carry out a diplomatic strategy that reduces tensions and truly makes the world a safer place. I will pray that our country reconnects with our generations-old allies in Europe to re-partner in the work of spreading democracy peacefully throughout the world. I will also pray that our President does right by the future senior citizens of this country, and comes up with an equitable way to fix social security. He will need help, because his tendancies are rotten but his aim, on this issue, is pure. The Democrats are wrong on this issue - by using the social security surplus to offset the deficit during the past two decades, we have created a financial calamity of biblical proportions that will come home to roost in the mid 2000's. I think privatization is kind of bullshit without addressing the hundreds of billions of lost trust funds first, but it's a start toward a solution. Finally, I will pray that Howard Dean takes control of the DNC, because he's the best anti-establishment dude we have right now. Oh yeah, and I'll also pray that John McCain runs and wins the Republican nomination in 2008. I could vote for that dude. If the Dems put up a shithole against McCain, the man has the first republican vote of my life.
And the final religious theme for my inauguration day celebration is this: I pray that i'm drunk as be-Jesus by the swearing in ceremony.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
New Year's Day
There is no more pointless celebration than New Year's Day. Sure, I dig it, an excuse to get stupid drunk and behave badly. Right on. But, as I move deeper into adulthood, kicking and screaming mind you, I have an 8 year old kid that asks questions. And she asks hard questions.
Luckily for me, the New Year's question wasn't "Why does beer make you talk funny and act weird", which would have been an obvious question after last night's shenanigans. But it was "Why do we celebrate New Year's Day? What's the point?" Ah yes, what is the point.
I guess this year, we celebrate the fact that 2004 was such a shitty year that 2005 can't be worse. The Bush victory and the tsunami disaster alone qualify 2004 as a rotten year. Not to mention the horrific nightmare that our professional and part-time troops experienced in Iraq all year.
I couldn't say that to an 8 year-old, I can't crap on her innocent view of the world with cynicism and bile. The lame dad explanation is that we mark time in days, months and years, and the year is the biggest, most significant unit. When the year ends, we celebrate all that was good in the past year, but more importantly, we look forward to the promise of the new year.
Total bullshit. I celebrate the fact that I survived the prior year, and the neighbors have lots of booze and Indian food, and I have a cache of fireworks that I'm going to expend as soon as the ball drops and the Happy New Year niceties end.
Unfortunately, the cops were on the ball this year, and within minutes of the first explosion, there were two patrol cars, with searchlights, blazing down my quiet suburban street, tearing ass toward me. I was in the process of igniting a multiple bottle rocket scream launch, which ended just as the cops pulled up. My first inclination was to run, but since my fireworks audience was mainly kids between the ages of 6 and 12, I figured that would be a bad example to set. So, I had to get lectured by a couple of 20 something cops about the dangers of fireworks, especially around kids, and also please pour your beer out, you asshole.
No charges were filed, they didn't even ask who I was, so I think I'm OK. Except the parents at the party probably think I'm an ass. Screw 'em, have some more beer, and what's this, champagne? Mmmmm. The crowd has dwindled, there are only a few of us now, and I try to follow the conversation, but it's too hard, and the chair I'm sitting in is way too comfortable for just sitting, so I fall asleep. My wife heads home, across the street, without waking me up, and our hosts go to bed, also without waking me up. I wake up confused and horrified in the middle of the night, and curse 2005, and cheap champagne.
Luckily for me, the New Year's question wasn't "Why does beer make you talk funny and act weird", which would have been an obvious question after last night's shenanigans. But it was "Why do we celebrate New Year's Day? What's the point?" Ah yes, what is the point.
I guess this year, we celebrate the fact that 2004 was such a shitty year that 2005 can't be worse. The Bush victory and the tsunami disaster alone qualify 2004 as a rotten year. Not to mention the horrific nightmare that our professional and part-time troops experienced in Iraq all year.
I couldn't say that to an 8 year-old, I can't crap on her innocent view of the world with cynicism and bile. The lame dad explanation is that we mark time in days, months and years, and the year is the biggest, most significant unit. When the year ends, we celebrate all that was good in the past year, but more importantly, we look forward to the promise of the new year.
Total bullshit. I celebrate the fact that I survived the prior year, and the neighbors have lots of booze and Indian food, and I have a cache of fireworks that I'm going to expend as soon as the ball drops and the Happy New Year niceties end.
Unfortunately, the cops were on the ball this year, and within minutes of the first explosion, there were two patrol cars, with searchlights, blazing down my quiet suburban street, tearing ass toward me. I was in the process of igniting a multiple bottle rocket scream launch, which ended just as the cops pulled up. My first inclination was to run, but since my fireworks audience was mainly kids between the ages of 6 and 12, I figured that would be a bad example to set. So, I had to get lectured by a couple of 20 something cops about the dangers of fireworks, especially around kids, and also please pour your beer out, you asshole.
No charges were filed, they didn't even ask who I was, so I think I'm OK. Except the parents at the party probably think I'm an ass. Screw 'em, have some more beer, and what's this, champagne? Mmmmm. The crowd has dwindled, there are only a few of us now, and I try to follow the conversation, but it's too hard, and the chair I'm sitting in is way too comfortable for just sitting, so I fall asleep. My wife heads home, across the street, without waking me up, and our hosts go to bed, also without waking me up. I wake up confused and horrified in the middle of the night, and curse 2005, and cheap champagne.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)