A Funny Thing Happened On the Way To The Debate…

As a voter, I’m not a big fan of political debates.

Especially primary debates.

I’ve never really been sure what purpose they’re supposed to serve.

I mean, it’s a primary, right? So, by definition the incumbent party typically has already chosen their candidate – and let’s be honest here, unless the president actually sprouts sharp little horns from his temples and then eats an actual fat squirming little white Christian baby on  live TV in the White House Press Room while proclaiming himself the literal Prince of Darkness (insert Satanic Mawahahahahaha! here), and maybe even then depending on who the opposition candidate is, he’s going to be that party’s nominee. 

So, the only primary debates are among the opposition party, i.e. people who already basically agree on everything important.  

Take the CNN/Tea Party Republican Party Debate last week.

Most of you, conservative or liberal, didn’t even bother to watch because you already knew what they were going to say.

Abortion? Hate it!

Gays? Shame! Shame!

Illegal Immigrants? No bueno!

Taxes? Not on my watch!

Obama? Nazi!

Deficit? Bad!

Debt? Double Plus ungood!

Stimulus? Why, I never!

Jobs? Mawr!

Jesus? Awesome!

Guns? Ook! Ook!

And there you have it folks, thanks for coming and drive safely.

Really, was anybody actually expecting a surprise?

Did you expect Bachmann to come out in support of a woman’s right to manage her own uterus? (Hell, she doesn’t believe she owns her own body). Did you expect Perry to say he’s suddenly all about Social Security? Or Romney to endorse Obamacare? (Or Romneycare for that matter).  Did you expect Paul not to make the outrageous claim that he can balance the federal budget in a year without raising taxes? Or Newt not to brag about his glory days (you know, right before he resigned in disgrace).  Or Cain not to make some bizarre off the wall non sequitur? Did you expect Huntsman not to come off sane and reasonable – and therefore inconsequential?

The point of a same party primary debate isn’t to stake out your position, everybody knows your position.  The purpose of the primary debate is to declare yourself the bestest and most devoutly true member of your ideology, while at the same time calling everybody else on the stage heretics and faithless assholes.

I mean, sure, it would have been awesome if, say, Newt suddenly ripped off his shirt, grabbed the mic, and started singing It’s Raining Men! while hip thrusting across the stage with Ron Paul riding on his shoulders waving a little top hat in a spontaneous parody of Master-Blaster from the Queer Follies’ musical remake of Beyond Thunderdome (you’re welcome). Hell I would have settled for Romney and Perry engaging in actual fisticuffs, instead just calling each other poopyheads, shin kicking, and the mussing up of each other’s $500 haircut.  I would have been amused if Bachman had, in an attempt to be more White and Right than Pat Boone, outed herself as a complete batshit bananas fringe lunatic conspiracy nut.

Yeah, that would have been awesome.  But of course, nothing like that happened…

 

What?

 

Okay, you got me.

Heh heh.  

I was just checking to see if you were paying attention. Yes, as a voter I see no point to “debates” among people who are basically just different shades of the same dull battleship gray. However, as a humorist and political blogger, man, you know, dayumn!  It’s the mother lode! Thanks. Sincerely. No really, thank you. More! More!

See near as I can figure, the entire purpose of a primary debate is to provide a fresh source of ridicule, sarcasm, jeering, and mockery. 

By now, unless you are either one of those primitive tribesmen who speak the click-click language and live deep in the rainforest eschewing all technology developed after the late Paleolithic or you are in fact a person-shaped turnip masquerading as Paris Hilton, you are aware that Michele Bachmann has declared herself the Motely Fool.

I waited a week. 

I wanted to be fair.  Everybody else was pointing and laughing, but I figured she’d veer towards the middle of the Conservative hardtack and adopt the party line.

Instead, she went on Leno.

“I wasn’t speaking as a doctor, I wasn’t speaking as a scientist. I was just relating what this woman said. She came up and … I wasn’t soliciting that information, she gave it to me. But the bigger issue in all this was the abuse of executive privilege and also just the connection of crony capitalism if you have a political donor that is giving to you and an action is taken by a government official that could potentially benefit that donor, that’s really the issue right now. That’s what people are worried about.”

I had to watch that twice, and then read the transcript to make sure I’d heard right.

Bachmann was, of course, trying to explain the accusation she had leveled at Rick Perry during the debate. Specifically this:

“To have innocent little 12-year-old girls be forced to have a government injection through an executive order is just wrong. Little girls who have a negative reaction to this potentially dangerous drug don’t get a mulligan. They don’t get a do over, their parents don’t get a do-over.”

She was attacking Perry for signing an Executive Order requiring that middle school girls in Texas be vaccinated against the Human Papillomavirus, i.e. the virus that has been positively linked to cervical cancer, genital warts, and a host of other adverse conditions in women (and men).  It is typically transmitted through sex, and not just the sparkly Jesus-approved kind either.  A lot of people carry HPV, maybe as many as a quarter of the population – including those who only engage in the Jesus-approved missionary style sex (yes, yes, I don’t mean you, of course, you’re an animal). Not all of those people are going to get cancer or even have any adverse effects – but a significant fraction will (oh, by the way, it isn’t just women who are affected. Men can suffer from it too. HPV can make Mr. Wiggly drop right off from penile cancer. You might want to think about that. After you stop clenching your legs together. Just FYI). 

I’ve got to be honest, frankly, I don’t see mandating the HPV vaccine for both girls and boys as anything particularly egregious – no more so than mandating any other childhood vaccine (Yes, yes, I know, torches and pitchforks are by the door, help yourselves). The drug is as safe as any other, more so actually.  Most adverse reactions are mild.  The odds are significantly higher that you’ll get cancer from the nearly inevitable HPV infection than that you’ll have a severe and lasting reaction to the vaccine. Parents can opt out if they so choose. 

I just don’t see much in the way of controversy when it comes to vaccination, at least in principle.

Obviously though, as governor, Perry went about it the wrong way, at least according to the Texas Supreme Court who struck down Perry’s Executive Order.  And, of course, as Bachmann alluded, Perry might have signed that order at the behest of a drug company.

So, when Bachmann brought it up during the debate, I figured that was her angle – executive overreach.  Payoff. I figured she’d nail Perry for exercising executive fiat … and then compare him to Obama (Obama as Nazi dictator being sort of a gimme in that forum). 

Instead, she went for the sound bite.

She went for the tweet: Girls don’t get a Mulligan.  She couldn’t wait to use that line. She had it all ready.  She expected it to flood social media, she expected it to go viral. Girls don’t get a Mulligan.  Some hip young staffer with a goatee came up with that zinger, I’ll bet you even money.  The problem is, the sound bite doesn’t work unless you come off as some kind of anti-vaxxer loon.  It wasn’t, as a governor you can’t take back an executive order, politicians don’t get a Mulligan.  It was, girls who have a reaction to this “potentially dangerous drug” don’t get a Mulligan. 

Dangerous drug. Dangerous drug.

And that only works if you believe, and you assume everybody else believes, that the HPV vaccine makes a significant number of young girls retarded (or even one, but I digress. Again).

Huh?

I’d fire the guy with the goatee. Soon.

Vaccination via executive mandate? Bad. Sure. I don’t get all riled up over it, but yeah, I can certainly see this given the Republican song and dance about executive overreach. Keep your government needles out of our daughters (of course, it’s perfectly ok for the government to decide whether or not that same daughter will bear a baby, but that’s not hypocrisy. Oh no. Totally different. Move along, nothing to see here).

Governor in the thrall of Big Pharma. Bad. Sure. I think we can all agree on that. (It won’t change anything, but I think we can all agree that would be a legitimate debate point).

Hell, I half expected her to pull out the standard conservative canard: vaccinating 12-year old girls against HPV will turn them into filthy whores, just like their mothers (Question: if the HPV vaccine makes girls into dirty sex monkeys, how come penicillin doesn’t? Or Tetracycline? But, again, I digress).

HPV vaccine makes your kids retarded. Wait. What?

So I waited a week figuring she’d back away from that last statement.  I thought, you know, she’s crazy but she’s not crazy crazy.

Instead she doubled down.

And then last night on Leno, she said:

I wasn’t speaking as a doctor, I wasn’t speaking as a scientist…

I damned near fell off the couch. Wait, what? Say that again.

I wasn’t speaking as a doctor, I wasn’t speaking as a scientist?

I’m not an expert.

Oh really?

 

You know where I’m going next, don’t you?

 

When exactly does Michele Bachmann speak as a doctor?

When does she speak as a scientist? 

When she’s speaking about History? Creationism? Climate change?

How about when it comes to “curing” gay people?  Is she a doctor then? A scientist?

No really, I’d like to know.  When exactly is Michele Bachmann qualified to speak as a scientist or as a doctor?

 

I wasn’t speaking as a doctor, I wasn’t speaking as a scientist.

Of course she wasn’t.

When the hell has that ever stopped her?

She told Leno that she was “convicted” in her views.

“Convicted. I’m convicted,” she said.

“Convicted?” Leno replied. “No, you don’t get convicted until after you’re in office. That’s later. You have to get elected first.”

Convicted.  It’s like the jokes just write themselves.  Even Leno was able to get a laugh, and that’s saying something.

Convicted? Committed is more like it, as in “ought to be.”

But hell, maybe she’s on to something.

Sure.  Ask yourself this, when did the anti-vaxxers become such a force that presidential candidates need court their vote? Because that’s exactly what Bachmann was doing, pandering to the nuts.  Crazy? Maybe. Maybe crazy like a fox too.  Think about it, what other candidate is courting the crazy vote?

See?

There are a lot of crazy people out there.  Why, it could be an untapped gold mine!  UFO Abductees? Moon Landing deniers? 911 Truthers? Grassy Knollers? Hell there’s a woman in Ohio who doesn’t believe in gay people. Just flat out denies their existence. That could be the tie breaker right there.  Bachmann would be nuts to let that vote go by.

Remember what I said about Obama sprouting horns and eating babies?  Who’s courting the anti-Christ vote? Huh?

It’s not the vaccine that makes you brain damaged.

Bachmann 2012!

Don’t just embrace the crazy, sidle up next to it and lick its ear.

 

 

 

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ATTENTION: If you’re one of those Vaccines Are Teh Eeeeevil people and you’re about to make the standard outraged kneejerk ZOMG! AUTISM! or ZOMG! GOVERNMENT IMPLANT TRACKING DEVICE ZORK ZORK! comment, stop. Take your fingers off the keyboard. Walk away.  Don’t comment. Just leave. Go back to the mothership. Quietly.  I’m not kidding, I will delete your comment. Go away. Yes, I mean you.

Brother’s Keeper

What do you tell a guy who is sick, goes into a coma and doesn't have health insurance? Who pays for his coverage? Are you saying society should just let him die?

That’s the question put to Representative Ron Paul (R-Texas) by Wolf Blitzer in the closing moments of Monday night’s Tea Party Express/CNN GOP Debate.

Before Paul could answer, several members of the Tea Party laden audience enthusiastically shouted out “Yeah!”

Yeah, let him die! Yeah!

Nobody in the crowd objected.

And then, right there, you got to see exactly who and what Ron Paul really is.

Right then, in that single moment, Ron Paul revealed not only his true character, but the moral failure that defines the modern American libertarian.

In a word, the answer was an unabashed: Yes!

Let him die.

Let him die, he deserves it.

Paul’s response was, “We never turned anybody away from the hospital. We have given up on this whole concept that we might take care of ourselves, assume responsibility for ourselves, that's the reason the cost is so high."

We never turn anybody away. That’s why the costs are so high.  Logically therefore, if we turn people away, if we let them die, it’s money in our pockets.

Moral failure I said, moral failure it is.

The rest of Paul’s response and the comments he has repeatedly expressed elsewhere make it very clear that in his opinion we should have turned people away, we should have let them die – or rather Government should let them die.

Paul’s viewpoint embraces the libertarian ideal of personal responsibility.

And sure, personal responsibility sounds good, I mean we should all be responsible for our own actions. Right?  Including that guy who didn’t buy himself medical insurance.

The problem is that the idea of personal responsibility when used in this context is nothing but white noise, it’s a chimera. 

Like “common sense,” when used in the context of government, personal responsibility is indefinable and unquantifiable in any but the most vague sense.  For personal responsibility to be a valid standard it would have to be measurable – and either we would all have to be created equal and identical or we have to have a valid and useful way to quantify each individual and determine the proper baseline of responsible action. In other words you first have to define what responsible action is, and then you have to determine if responsible action is an absolute or if it is something measured relative to each individual.  What might be considered responsible action for me is likely quite different from what it would be for you, or for someone with autism, or a corporate titan.

Again, the idea is only useful in only the broadest of terms and the libertarian version on display Monday night completely ignores situational context.

Take the example of the man in the coma, he doesn’t have insurance.  Blitzer didn’t say that he chose to forgo coverage, but that was the assumption by the libertarian crowd.  So let us say it was true,  According to Blitzer’s scenario, the man chose not to buy insurance.  Irresponsible?  Maybe. But maybe he just can’t afford to both feed his kids and buy insurance despite working two full time jobs, because those were the only kind of jobs he could get in this economy. So maybe he chose to buy food for his children and pay his electric bill instead. Does that make him irresponsible?  Maybe, just maybe, he was living near one of those rivers that overflowed last month, and he lost everything in the flood and guess what? He had homeowners insurance but the claims adjuster decreed his loss to be not covered because, and dig this, he didn’t have actual flood insurance, or earthquake insurance, or Little Green Men From Mars insurance – and now he’s lost his home and business and health coverage and lives on the street.  Irresponsible? Or was he just fucked over by God and State Farm?  Don’t think that’s happening right now? You’re fooling yourself.  It happened to members of my own family after hurricane Ivan – they had hurricane insurance, but when the storm surge roared more than a mile inland and destroyed their house, the insurance company said, sorry, that’s flood damage and not hurricane damage even thought the flood was caused directly and provably by the hurricane. Too bad for you. Maybe they could have sued, if they were Ron Paul, but poor people don’t get that option – and so they would have lost everything and been homeless, but for FEMA.  They did everything they were supposed to, but the insurance company moved the goal posts and denied 50,000 people their claims. Were those people irresponsible?

To libertarians it just doesn’t matter, can’t pay, it’s not my problem.

Paul and his Tea Party supporters use the term personal responsibility in the simplest and most childish manner, responsibility is always black and white.  The man does not have insurance. He cannot pay. No one will pay for him. Therefore, turn him out, let him die. He is not my responsibility – this, in the very essence, is the bankrupt selfish philosophy of libertarianism.

The real Ron Paul is a cold calculating selfish little son of bitch.

The real Ron Paul is the kind of doctor who thinks that it’s OK to let a man die – if he can’t pay.

And if as a doctor he doesn’t actually believe that, then as a politician and the man who would be President of the United States he’s perfectly willing to go along with the lynch mob in order to curry favor from those who do – and in the final count, it makes no damned difference whatsoever, the result is the same.

Paul had a moment, a moment, to push back the mob, to demonstrate authentic leadership and actual moral courage – and did not.

He did not, because his words and actions clearly demonstrate what kind of man he really is. And that man is sorely lacking in moral courage.

Note that none of the other candidates on the stage raised an objection either.

The libertarians, including Ron Paul, who make up the stony bitter heart of the Tea Party beat the drum of personal responsibility and wave the bloody red flag of individual liberty, but at their core they are cowards.  It takes courage to place duty, honor, and the welfare of society above yourself. It takes courage, moral courage, to place the welfare of others before your own selfish desires.  It takes courage to do the right thing even when it may cost you personally, even when nobody is watching.  All the charity and pro bono work in the world doesn’t change that, courage is what you do when it matters.

There is no honor, no morality, no courage in letting a man die because he can’t pay – even if he came to such straights by his own device or his own choice.

Now it is true that Ron Paul did not, in point of fact, actually say “let him die” – and a vocal number of Tea Party types have their genuine Ayn Rand underpants all in a bunch today pointing that out.  They’re right … and they are still wrong.  Paul may not have said “let him die,” but he mostly certainly implied it – that’s exactly where this nonsense of institutionalized personal responsibility comes from. However, note that Paul himself fails to take personal responsibility for the implications of his own words. Instead of saying exactly what he really meant, i.e. let him die, Paul tries to weasel out of responsibility by saying that while the government should let the uninsured die, charity and church should step up and save the man.

And just like the libertarian ideal of personal responsibility, this nonsense of church and charity doesn’t hold water when put to the actual test.

Prior to social safety nets, millions died because church and charity wasn’t enough.  It is never enough.

Ask yourself something, how exactly does this work? Specifically. Do you really expect those who embrace a stunted me-first philosophy of selfishness, and who vocally enjoin others to do the same, will actually look out for each other? Really? On the same scale as the federal government does now? You really expect those selfish people to do that from the goodness of their hearts? Hell, those were the same bastards shouting “let him die” on Monday night! Do you really think that churches and communities made up of those same self centered sons of bitches will suddenly embrace charity?  Are you goofy?

Communities made up of selfish people are selfish communities. They’re often easy to spot, the gates give them away.

Churches made up of selfish hateful bigots are selfish hateful bigoted churches. That’s not an opinion, that’s a goddamned fact.

Ron Paul’s libertarian wet dream fails at the most fundamental level.

I’ve said it before and I’ll keep right on saying it, the purpose of government is to protect the weak from the ruthless, otherwise what damned good is it?

Paul, and those libertarians like him,  are social Darwinists. They strongly believe that those who find themselves at the mercy of the mob, deserve their misfortune. These are the same folks who think their own station will never change, that misfortune will never find them, that their God will always favor them and theirs, and that they themselves will never be the uninsured man in the coma. 

These are the same people who think that a family who can barely afford to put food on the table, or shoes on their kids’ feet, or pay the electric bill, actually have a choice when it comes to purchasing several hundred dollars worth of health and dental insurance each month. 

These are the same people who seem to think that minimum wage jobs and part time employers actually provide affordable health benefits.

These are the same hysterical idiots who accused Obama of creating “death panels,” but would now let a man die because because they do not deem him worthy.

And these are the same hypocrites who would let a man die because he could not pay, and yet would mandate that a poor woman, who also cannot pay, bear an unwanted baby to term – and then complain about having to pay for its healthcare (yes, a poor woman, a rich woman can always find a safe abortion, whether it’s legal or not).

These are the same frightened assholes who embrace torture, so long as it’s done in Jesus name (and to others).

These are the folks who, like Michele Bachmann, seek and take government money in the form of subsides even though they don’t need it, but decry such government programs when others they deem unfit receive similar largess.

These are the same people who would hold a man accountable – to the death – for failing to foresee the consequences of being uninsured, but would not hold a corporation, even though it be legally defined as a “person,” to the same standard – because that would be bad for business.

These are the self-professed Christians who every single Sunday hear their prophet’s very explicit and unequivocal command to feed the hungry, clothe the poor, and heal the sick, and would self-righteously let a man die because he could not pay – and these are the same folks who would cheer wildly at Rick Perry’s execution tally.

These are the very same folks, specifically including most of those standing on that stage Monday night, who would piously proclaim this a solely Christian nation and who have stated their desire to see the United States under Biblical law, and yet – and yet – seem never to have heard of the  passage for which this post is named. Why is that, do you suppose?

Understand something, whether or not, the man in question, the one without insurance, is a lazy worthless bastard who has come to dire straits through his own shortsighted foolishness has no bearing whatsoever on either your responsibility or your morality.

Certainly, he might be a rotten piece of human jetsam, useless, worthless, a blot on society and parasite on mankind, in a coma because he was shot while robbing a liquor store – maybe he made a choice to be who and what he is and he is responsible for the consequences, or maybe he is just the victim of circumstance.

All of that changes not one iota the morality of letting him die because he cannot pay.

His immorality and irresponsible behavior has no bearing whatsoever on mine. And my moral compass says we don’t let a man die if we can prevent it.

Oh most certainly saving his worthless scumbag ass is hard. It’s downright galling.  You goddamned right it is. You’ll get no argument from me on that score.  Nevertheless. 

If doing the right thing was easy, everybody would be doing it.

If responsibility was easy, we wouldn’t need government.

If morality was easy, well then God wouldn’t have to threaten Christians with hellfire and damnation now would He?

Don’t agree?

Two days ago, in Salt Lake City, a motorcyclist collided with a car.  The wreck was horrific. The biker ended up trapped beneath the burning wreckage where he would mostly certainly have died an agonizing death.

A group of onlookers risked their own lives and lifted the burning car with their own hands and pulled the gravely injured man to safety.

Why?

No really, why?

Motorcycles are dangerous.  More, the motorcyclist wasn’t wearing a helmet.  By definition, he put himself in that position – yes he did, if he’d been driving a large safe SUV, he would never have ended up under that burning car.  Maybe he couldn’t afford a safer vehicle because he’s unemployed or a lazy bastard. Maybe he just loved the thrill of riding a motorcycle. Maybe he should have taken public transportation, or walked, or stayed home. Whatever, it was his choice to ride that bike, and to do it without a helmet, to deliberately endanger his own life.  Hell, maybe he was an asshole, maybe he beats his dog, and steals his neighbor’s newspaper, and parks in handicapped spots. Maybe he was a broke worthless bum.

Should those people have let that man die?

No?

Well why not?

Same thing.

The morality of your action is not determined by the worthiness of others. 

Likewise, your personal responsibility has absolutely nothing to do with anybody but you. 

Yes, say the libertarians, exactly! Taking personal responsibility is my choice, my right.  If I help somebody it should be because I choose to do so, not because the government makes me. 

These people are arguing semantics.  They preach personal responsibility, but look the other way when it comes to public responsibility.  They want to enjoy the benefit of society without having to be accountable for it. The nation they so benefit from includes the poor and the lazy and the infirm and the uninsured, and they would avert their eyes from that and pretend that it is not their moral responsibility.

In the end, either you are the kind of person who would let a man die because he cannot pay, or you are not.

In the end, either you are the kind of person who would let the poor die because by your standards they are not worthy of society, you would let the hungry starve because by your measure they deserve it, you would let the ragged ones go unclothed because they have not earned their place in your world, in the end you are that guy, or you are not.

In the end, you either choose to participate in society and thereby help your fellow man, whether or not he is worthy, or you do not.

In the end, either you are the kind of citizen who takes public responsibility for civilization, i.e. you are your brother’s keeper –  or you damned well are not.

It’s really just that simple.

 

 

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Update: Comments for this post are now closed, they’re going to stay that way.

I turned commenting off last night, because with the sudden influx of trolls, illiterates, and frothingly rabid Paulistas, I was not willing to let the forum go unmoderated after I went to bed.  This turned out to be a wise choice.

I’ll say this, if you want to incur the mindless wrath of a whole lot of very very angry fanatics, you can either shank Jesus right in the kidney or say something unflattering about “Dr Paul.”

Here’s a sample from this morning’s hate mail (all quotes are verbatim):

- Lazy, fat, certainly mindless

- HOW DARE YOU!

- You. Are. A. Fucking. Asshole!!!!!

- I demand to know who your agenda is.

- RON PAUL 2012! (repeat about 100X)

- What NOT MY COMMENT POSTED?! DID YOU DLETE MY COMMENT! YOU EVERY HERE OF THE 1ST AMENDMENT ASSHOLE

and my favorite so far:

- WHOS PAYING YOU???!!!! WHOS PAYING YOU??!!!

That was just from the first couple of emails. I deleted the rest without reading them. And as amusing as that is, I’ve got other shit to do today and don’t feel like devoting my weekend to weeding out the nonsense.  

However, don’t despair, comments will be turned back on - after Ron Paul has been dead for at least a decade. 

Really though, fine bunch of people you got there, Ron. Really, really, stellar group. 

Variety Show

I flipped on the TV last night and thought, “Oh Boy! It’s Shark Week!”

I had a splitting headache, but man, nothing perks me up like a good feeding frenzy.

I wrung the neck of a Killian’s tall boy, chased a handful of Excedrin with a swig from the bottle, and settled into the recliner. 

The pain in my head made it hard to focus, but it looked like there was already blood in the water. Awesome.

Wait.

What the hell was that? A squid? A sea cucumber? Some kind of weird aquatic mating dance?

I squinted at the screen.  Either they’d over-chummed the water or something was seriously awry.

Was that some kind of barnacle covered sea mammal?

I pressed the cold frosty bottle over one throbbing eye and tried to focus on the screen with the other.  What in the wide world of sports was Wolf Blitzer doing on Animal Planet? Sure, the hack hasn’t really been a journalist since his salad days in Bagdad during Gulf War, The Prequel, but this seemed a little ridiculous – what’s next? Fruit of the Loom commercials in the banana suit? Had I stumbled into an episode of SpongeBob by accident? And why did the sharks look so tan and unnaturally smooth and have really, really good hairdos? (Well, except for that little grey wrinkly one on the end)

That’s when I realized somebody had left the TV tuned to CSPAN.

Ah, that explained it.  They weren’t sharks – they were Republicans.

It was the sharp toothy smiles that had fooled me.

It was the CNN/Tea Party “debate” and oh there was blood in the water indeed.

Wolf tossed another big bucket of fish heads into the pool and that’s when my head really began to pound.

Frankly, I don’t think it worked as a debate, and in fact from the evidence I’m pretty sure none of the participants even knew what the word “debate” actually meant (That’s ok, with the single exception of Jon Huntsman, none of them seem to know what the word “theory” means either, but then Huntsman isn’t really a Republican is he?).  Any high school egghead knows what a debate is. Hell there are whole organizations dedicated to the art of debate. There are college debating teams.  There are professional debating societies. There are debates over the various styles of debate.  There are debating rules. They teach classes in it. Debate is a long refined art form.

I’m not sure what the hell it was that I watched last night, but it wasn’t a debate. 

It would probably make a pretty good classic TV comedy variety hour though.

No really, go back and watch it again. Watch it again with the sound turned off, only this time substitute Carol Burnett’s voice for Michele Bachmann’s shrill banshee-like screech.

See?

Even in the best of times, Bachmann’s strident squall makes my gums bleed, last night I’m pretty sure that if I had listened to the caterwauling drone of her pandering mirror universe agitprop for more than a few seconds my aching eyes would have exploded from their swollen sockets and crawled around my head to jam themselves into my bleeding ears like fleshy corks. 

But dub in Carol Burnett’s voice and Bachmann is hysterical.

And she’s already got the crazed rolling-eyes look down pat. 

Think of Ron Paul as Dorf On The Economy.  His garrulous old man routine is beautifully Conwayesque. The way he shuffles around wheezing asthmatically and mumbling aaeehhhhhheeeeez end the fed end the fed aaaaaeeehhhhsss no taxes no taxes! just kills me. Paul does a damned good Artie Johnson impression too – though his act needs a monocle and ersatz German accent to really sell it.  He’s funny as hell by himself, but he really shines as part of a duo, not so much Butch Cassidy’s Newman and Redford, but more like Conway and Knotts in The Apple Dumpling Gang Rides Again.

And speaking of Don Knotts, I bet a whole lot more folks would tune into these things if they got him to be the moderator instead of Wolf Blitzer. 

Yes, I know Mr. Knotts is deceased. Do you have an actual point?

Tell me Rick Perry isn’t the spitting image of Harvey Korman’s tight ass Heady Lamarr (oops that’s Headley, Headley Lamarr!) from Blazing Saddles.   Lamarr had this cornball western accent and created a glut of shitty jobs on the backs of minorities.  He tried to swipe a bunch of land from his constituents to build a highway. He was huge on the death penalty, hell, he even hung a horse. No no no. Not hung like a horse, hung a horse. From a gallows.  See, the horse was an accomplice in a bank robbery, being the getaway driver so to speak. What? Oh like you haven’t sentenced somebody to death based on flimsy evidence, could happen to anybody. Especially in Texas. Hell, Rick Perry has killed more men than Cecil B. DeMille!  See?  It’s the same character!

Trust me on this, once you realize that Perry is doing a tribute to Korman’s Snidely Whiplash, the debates are a whole lot more interesting.

Mitt Romney?  Dick Van Dyke from the Mary Poppins era, the lovable goof with the heart of gold. I kept expecting him to whip out his umbrella and poke Perry right in the eye, playfully of course, then break into a gangly vaudeville rendition of A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down when asked to explain RomneyCare.  Boy, talk about connecting to your audience, Mary Poppins being the  feel good story of the implosion of Fidelity Fiduciary Bank, the bank that actually supplied the money for the shipment of tea dumped into Boston Harbor by the very first members of the Tea Party. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

I thought Jon Huntsman did a credible Lyle Waggoner.  Who? Lyle. Lyle Waggoner. Good lord, Man, Waggoner was a Carol Burnett Show regular for seven seasons. Lyle. Lyle Waggoner. Tall fella. Handsome. Kinda quiet. You know. Lyle.

And of course, Newt nailed Vicki Lawrence. 

Er.

I mean he reminded me of Vicki Lawrence – though obviously the other way works too. 

Seriously though, Vicki Lawrence as Momma from Momma’s Family? Go on, tell me you don’t see it. 

Really?

Try picturing Newt in a shawl. See? Ah ha! Told ya!

I figure Herman Cain and Rick Santorum for walk-on guest parts, say Flip Wilson and Soupy Sales – accomplished comedians and funny as hell for a couple of sketches but nobody was offering them a permanent gig on the show. Seriously, every time Herman Cain gets all wild eyed and starts talking about Dominos I expect him to end with “The Devil made me do it, Sugar!” (Right. I’m the only one in the room old enough to get that. Sure).  And Santorum looks like a guy who’s going to spend the next twenty years on The Hollywood Squares.

Now, with a cast like that, you know you’re going to have a good show full of belly laughs.

The song and dance routines were pretty good, especially Perry’s playful “Stimulus Man Don’t Make No Jobs” tap number and Bachmann’s satirical rendition of “Obama Done Stole $500 Billion From My Poor Ole Mama(‘s Social Secur-it-eeee), whoo oh, do wop do wop.”

The Ponzi Scheme Schemers skit was hilarious. Especially the part where Romney started humping Perry’s leg and Perry was dancing around trying to shake Romney off and Bachmann came running up and bit Perry on the ass.  Comic genius.

The jokes were old, but they told them well.

Perry: We need to have a conversation about Social Security

Romney: We are having a conversation.

Perry: When?

Romney: Now!

Perry: When?

Romney: Right now!

Perry: Right now? It’s Ten Two!

Romney: Ten to what?

Perry: Tend to your own damned business!

Huntsman: Business? Why I created more jobs than you’ve ever seen!

Santorum: No no, it’s me that’s a job creatin’ machine!

Perry: Vaccine?

Bachmann: To have innocent little 12-year-old girls be forced to have a government injection ...

Newt: That’s what vexes us! There ain’t no innocent 12 year old girls in Texas…

Paul: What’s that? Taxes? At my age, taxes is the only thing they can raise!

Huntsman: Look at me everybody, I’m Kurt Cobain!

Cain: Kurt Cobain? Oh if you only had a brain … Shit. Isn’t this the Wizard of Oz sketch? Wait, this is that dream where I went to school in my underwear again, right? Hello? Wake up Herman! Wake up!

 

Remember, folks, when it comes to surviving a presidential election season debate, it’s all in the delivery.

I'm so glad we had this time together

Just to have a laugh or sing a song

Seems we just get started and before you know it

Comes the time we have to say, 'So long.

Good night, Everybody.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see what’s on Animal Planet.

911 Ten Years On

It’s been ten years now.

A decade today.

And frankly, I think that’s about enough.

There comes a point where you have to stop reliving horror over and over.

There comes a point where you have to say enough, this and no more.

I think a decade is enough time.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the events of September 11th, 2001 were traumatic on a national scale.  911 was a shock like no other in American history, hell, maybe even in world history.  The modern Information Age saw to that, bringing it right into our living rooms without any delay to soften the impact, live and in horrifying color. 

All of us remember where we were and what we were doing on that terrible morning, I know I certainly do. 

I’m not in any way saying that we should forget, but there comes a point where you have to allow history to become history.

There comes a point where you have to move on.

Today marks a decade now, since 911.  In that time, we went to war and seven thousand more Americans, some of our very best, died.  Tens of thousands more were maimed and scarred and damaged forever.  Hundreds of thousands of innocents died.  Entire countries were laid waste and we became a callous people who could look upon those devastated lands and say, well, you know they had it coming, all of those bastards had it coming including their goddamned children. We became a nation that tortures people and disappears people and detains people, including our citizens, indefinitely without trial or recourse in abject repudiation of the very spirit of our nation’s own founding – and we are unashamed of that and unrepentant.  We have become a nation where, as an American, you must put aside your freedom a dozen times a day. You must show your papers. You must submit to naked body scanners and you must allow unsmiling uniformed men with the force of secret laws behind them to grope the most intimate areas of your children and yourselves. Such has become the price of freedom in America. We have become a nation  where you – as an American – can be detained for a glance or a gesture or a careless word or for checking out the wrong book from the library or for worshipping the wrong God.  We have become a nation where the only acceptable response to uniformed authority is immediate and polite submission, talk back, question, stand pat on the rights of previous generations and you’ll be branded an enemy. We have become a nation that claims to revere liberty and justice, but believes those things can only be had when secret agencies monitor our every email and our every communication without warrant or probable cause. 

The day after 911, September 12th, 2001, Congress stood upon the steps of the Capitol with the smoke of the burning Pentagon still hanging in the air above their heads and solemnly pledged to the American people that they would put aside their partisanship and their personal agendas and work together for the sake of our nation.  And in the decade since we have become a nation divided instead, a nation of partisan rancor writ large – and those who stubbornly proclaim their patriotism loudest are the very ones who would lead us into civil war and secession.  They would destroy what terrorists could not.

In the decade since 911, we have found those responsible, rooted them out, and ground them into dust.  It took ten years, but Osama bin Laden is dead at the hands of Americans.  So is his successor. So are hundreds of his lieutenants.  So are thousands of his foot soldiers.   So are many, many others, including Americans.

But it has not brought us closure.

It has not brought us peace.

It has not healed us as a nation.

911 was horrifying. It was personal to us all, every single American. It left us scarred, as a nation, traumatized.

And we keep using that horror as an excuse to lash out in a massive case of collective post traumatic stress disorder.

The wounds of that event run deep and are still raw a decade later – but those wounds will not heal so long as we keep picking at the scab over and over and over.

Today, we will relive the horror yet again – a fevered nightmare that simply won’t go away because we will not allow it to go away.  

Again, don’t get me wrong, we should always remember the events of September 11th, 2001, just as we remember Pearl Harbor or the assassination of John F. Kennedy or the hundred other events that shocked and traumatized our nation. But if we are to heal, if we are to move on, we have to stop reliving that horror over and over. 

Certainly we should build the memorials and lay the wreaths.

We should always remember the names of the fallen and hold them sacred.

But we need to stop covering ourselves in the blood of that day.

Today, right now as I write this, hundreds of media channels will play the recordings of those trapped in the towers.  They’ll play those recordings over and over and over again. Recordings of the tortured calls to emergency services and the final calls to loved one.  And we’ll listen, yet again, to the intimate agony of those dying people.  They will play on endless loop the videos of those who jumped seventy stories to their death, lingering lovingly on their faces, speculating about their last moments, reveling in the horror. They interview those who witnessed the death and destruction and horror and they’ll beg, “Tell us what you were thinking. Tell us what you were feeling at that very moment.” We don’t need to know what they were feeling, what they were thinking, because we felt the same exact thing. We’re still feeling it. But we’ll listen anyway. And we’ll watch the towers fall. We’ll see the Pentagon crumple and explode.  We’ll hear the tapes of the air traffic controllers, of the horrified confusion in the towers, and the phone calls of those Americans who fought back above the corn fields of Shanksville, Pennsylvania.  

I hear those tortured voices, I see those dying faces, and I don’t feel hate. I don’t feel a need for revenge. Instead I feel revulsion.  There is something obscene about listening to 911 calls, any 911 call.  While those records may have value to history, it is nothing but a voyeuristic grotesquery to broadcast those intimate communications to a public jaded by reality TV and violent slasher flicks. 

It serves no purpose whatsoever but to keep open festering wounds that should be long scabbed over.

Today, pundits and politicians will use this anniversary to drive us further apart, to reopen the wounds, for their own selfish agendas, to further inflame partisan fervor and to brand their neighbors as enemies and un-American. 

And we will let them do it, because in the decade since 911 we’ve become a nation of cutters who hack at our own flesh with mean abandon.

 

Since 911, an entire generation has been born and grown to self-awareness.

Those young Americans have never known their nation at peace. 

They have never known a nation that is not divided.

They have never had a single day where they weren’t told to hate their neighbors and to report them if they don’t seem patriotic enough.

They have never lived a single day in a nation that wasn’t bent to the terrible business of revenge.

They have never known a nation that didn’t roil in fear and cringe in terror every single day.

They have never flown on an airplane without having been treated like a criminal.

They have never checked out a book from the library without having been subject to secret scrutiny.

They never sent an unmonitored email or made an unmonitored phone call.

They have never lived in a house that isn’t subject to unwarranted search.

They have never had the right to redress or legal challenge when their name is placed on secret lists – and in point of fact, they don’t even have the right to know if their name is on that list at all.

They have never lived in a nation where they have the right to confront their accuser and demand proof of more than just suspicion.

They have never lived without the threat, however unlikely, of being disappeared.

They have never lived in a nation that didn’t regard the torture of human beings as an acceptable option.

This new generation has lived under the shadow of those falling towers every single minute of every single day since the moment they were born.

 

The terrorists didn’t do that.

We did it to them.

 

It’s been ten years today.

It’s time to move on.

The Good Old Labor Days

You ever stop to wonder what you life would be like if it was 1911 instead of 2011?

Imagine.

Imagine what it was like to be your great grand parents.

In 1911, the United States was in the middle of the Second Industrial Revolution.  It was a time of wonder and ever advancing technology. It started in the 1860’s and would last right up until the beginning of World War I. It began with steel, the Bessemer process to be specific, a cheap and easy way to mass produce strong and reasonably lightweight metals.  Strong lightweight steel was the skeleton of the modern age, the core of everything from the new cars to steamships and oil rigs to utensils and lunchboxes, to the machines that manufactured the future, to the finest handgun ever made – Colt’s model 1911, named for its year of first issue and still in production a century later.  In 1911 a tall skinny fellow by the name of Eugene Ely landed a Curtiss #2 Pusher on the deck of USS Pennsylvania and took off again – and thus was born naval aviation, a profound moment that would change the very way wars were fought and thus change almost everything else too. Many of the pilots who, a few years later, would fly over the battlefields of WWI carried Colt’s Model 1911.  In 1911, for the first time, you could buy a Cadillac with an electric starter – and despite the fact that there were still plenty of horses out there on the roads, the car had become so ubiquitous – due in part to Henry Ford lowering the price of a Model-T to $690 that year – that Michigan created the first modern roads when the state started painting white lines down the middle of the more heavily traveled avenues. Electricity itself was no longer a novelty.  Though many factories were still powered by steam, electricity was becoming increasingly common.  The first modern public elevator began operation in London, England, and soon became common everywhere – leading directly to the modern city skyline.  And above that skyline in 1911, Goodyear flew their first blimp.

In 1911, America was booming. Her factories were churning out new products at a record pace. The western frontier had all but disappeared – oh, there were still a few bandits and cattle rustlers out there, but the wild wooly west was long gone.  The gold rushes, the boom towns and gun fights were long over.  Hell, by 1911 Wyatt Earp was living in Los Angeles working as a “trouble-shooter” for the city police department.  He’d fought his last armed battle a year before and would soon move to Hollywood as a consultant for the new movie industry. 

It was certainly a marvelous time.

If you could afford it.

If you lived through it.

See, those churning factories were horrible places.  In 1911, most were still powered by a massive central steam engine which drove an enormous flywheel, which in turn powered shafts and belts and pulleys, which finally powered the machines.  And though, as noted above, electricity was becoming increasingly common, most of those factories were still poorly lit simply by the light coming in through skylights and banks of single pane glazed windows.  Often boiling hellholes in the summer and freezing dungeons in the winter – both air conditioning and central heating were still decades away – the buildings were filled with smoke and poisonous fumes from the various manufacturing processes, lead vapor, heavy metals, acids, chlorine, bleaches, all were common.  Normal working hours were from dawn to dusk, typically anywhere from twelve to fourteen hours a day, sixty and seventy hours per week for wages that would barely pay the rent and put food on a factory worker’s table.

Child labor was common, especially in the textile industry, though in some states there were supposed to be laws regulating it.  The kids toiled right alongside their parents.  The children typically worked the same hours as adults, but for a quarter, or less, of the pay.  Pictures of the time show children working barefoot among the machines, ragged sleeves flapping near the flying belts and spinning pulleys.  Whole families hired out to the factories, the men doing the heavy labor, the women and children doing the more delicate tasks. Towns sprang up around the mills, often controlled by the factory owners. Company towns, where workers very often became little more than indentured servants.  Life in a company town was often better than the alternative on the streets of places like Hell’s Kitchen or out in the fields of the South. Company towns gave workers a higher standard of living than they would otherwise be able to afford. But the running joke was that while your soul might belong to God, your ass belonged to the company.  Mill towns and mining towns and factory towns and logging towns were common across America, places where the company owned everything from your house to your job to the church you prayed in to the store you bought your food from. And prices were whatever made the company the most profit and in many places there were laws that prevented you from renting or buying outside the company town.  The company might pay you a decent wage for the time, but they got a lot of it back too.  Get crosswise of the company and you lost it all.  Get injured on the job and could no longer work, and you lost it all. Get sick, and you could lose it all.  Get killed, and your family was out on the street.  There was no workman’s comp. No insurance. No retirement but what you managed to save – and since you probably owed a significant debt to the company store, your savings were unlikely to go very far.

Of course, you could always take a pass on factory work and return to the land.  In 1911, millions of Americans were farmers.  Farming, especially in 1911, was hard back breaking work (it still is, just in a different way) – so hard that seventy hours a week in a smoke filled factory with a high probability of getting maimed or killed looked pretty good in comparison.  Most of those farmers, especially in the South, didn’t own their fields. They were sharecroppers, living in conditions little better than slavery or the serfdom of the Dark Ages.  Of the small farmers who did own their own land or rather owed the bank for their own land, more than half lived in abject poverty.  In the coming decade, the decade of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, most would lose everything.

Most of America was powered by coal in those days and if there was anything that would make life in a factory town or in the sweltering fields look good – it was working in a West Virginia coal mining town.  It was a race to see what would kill you first, explosion, cave-in, or the black lung.  And just like in the fields and factories, children worked alongside their parents – if they had parents, orphanages were also common. And orphan labor was even cheaper than the average child, both in life and in pay. Renting out orphan labor was a good gig, if you could get it.

You could always become a merchant seaman, though life at sea was damned rough. You could move west and become a logger, though you’d probably live longer in the mines of West Virginia. You could still be a cowboy, or a cop, or carpenter none which paid worth a good Goddamn and had the added benefit of a short lifespan.

Since people got sick and injured a lot, and most couldn’t afford even rudimentary medical care, many turned to patent medicines.  The pharmaceutical industry was only loosely regulated, but by 1911 there were some few laws in a handful of states regulating the more outrageous claims for the various elixirs. The big medicine shows were gone, but in 1911 there were still plenty of drug store shelves stocked with hundreds of varieties of patent medicines. Some were mostly benign – like Coca-Cola – and some were downright toxic – like Radithor, made from water and radium.  As late as 1917, The Rattlesnake King, Clark Stanley, was still making Stanley’s Snake Oil, a worthless mixture of mineral oil, turpentine, and red pepper, and fleecing sick people out of their money and making them yet sicker (hell, as late as the 1960’s TV’s commercials touted the benefits of smoking for sore throats. And, as late as 1970 there were still X-ray foot measuring devices in use in a handful of shoe stores across America).

In 1911, only a few states mandated that your kids attend school, and then only though elementary.  In the South segregation and Jim Crow Laws were in full force and civil rights were decades away. Lynching was common.  On the other hand, women could actually vote in exactly five states, well, six if you included California which grudgingly acknowledged in November that females might be citizens too despite their unfortunate plumbing. 

In 1911, maybe three out of ten Americans could ever expect to own a home, most would pay a landlord their whole lives. Few had any rights in those relationships either, you paid the owner and you lived with what you got or you got thrown out. Period.

In 1911, a lot of Americans were hungry. More than fifty percent of seniors lived in poverty, but then the average lifespan was only about fifty-five, maybe sixty if you hadn’t been breathing coal dust or lead vapor all you life.  Few of those seniors had pensions, most lived on the charity of their families – if they were lucky enough to have families.  Sanatoriums were a common place for the aged and infirm to spend their brief final years. 

In 1911, if you had ten kids, you might expect six of them to survive to adulthood.  If you were lucky. Polio, tuberculosis, measles, mumps, pneumonia, whooping cough, hard labor in the mines and factories and fields, lack of social safety nets, lack of proper nutrition, lead paint, food poisoning, poverty, orphaned by parents killed by the same, would probably claim at least four of those kids. Likely more.

 

People from that generation always wax nostalgic for The Good Old Days – and then they immediately proceed to tell you why life was so much harder and more miserable back then.

 

The simple truth of the matter is nowadays, even in this time of economic downturn, we Americans live a pretty damned good life.  And we live that good life because since 1911 we’ve put systems and laws and regulations in place to improve life for all of us.  Programs like Social Security and Medicare have a direct and measurable affect on how long we live, and how well. Regulations governing working conditions and workplace safety have a direct and measurable affect on the probability that we’ll survive to retirement.  Laws that prevent the rich from owning a whole town, or abusing workers, or turning them into indentured servants, or hiring children at pauper’s wages to maintain the machines in their bare feet, have directly benefitted all but the most greedy few. 

The American dream isn’t dead, far from it. 

I’ve been to countries where dreams have died, America is far, far, far removed those hellish places. 

It is a measure of just how far we’ve come, and just how big an impact that those laws, regulations, and social safety programs have had that those who directly benefit from those very same laws, regulations, and programs can complain with full bellies just how terrible they have it.

Things like Social Security, Medicare, Workman’s Compensation Insurance, The Federal Reserve, Federal Deposit Insurance, child labor laws, federal minimum wage, occupational health and safety standards, the Environmental Protection Agency, The Centers for Disease Control, The departments of Education and Health, Labor Unions and workers’ rights, and yes, even Welfare, all of these things were created for a reason. For a good reason. For a compelling reason. 

These things were created because when you leave it up to the church and charity to fed the hungry and clothe the poor and heal the sick, a hell of a lot of people go hungry and cold and ill.  It is really just that brutally simple. 

These things were created because when you leave it up to charity and family to take care of old people, a hell of a lot of old people end up stacked like cordwood in institutions. The moldering remnants of such places are all around us.

These things were created because when you leave it up to people to save for their retirement or a rainy day or for accident and infirmity, a hell of a lot of them don’t, or can’t, or won’t.

These things were put in place because when you leave it solely up to the market to weed out poor products and fake medicine and unsafe machines, they don’t, or can’t, or won’t. 

These things were put in place because when you leave it up to industrialists and share holders to treat their workers with dignity and respect and to pay them a living wage for their hard work, you get indentured servitude.

These things were put in place because when you leave it up to devoutly righteous people who go to church every Sunday to decide what is right and proper and moral, you end up with lynchings and segregation and Jim Crow. And that is a Goddamned fact.

These things were put in place because when you leave it up to the factory owners to decide wages and safety and working hours, you get this:

 

When you leave it solely up to bankers and the factory owners and the industrialists, well Sir, then what happens is they end up owning it all and you get the scraps.

And right up until very recently that’s exactly how it was.

Fundamentally, government exists to protect the weak from the ruthless, otherwise what damned good is it?

 

Lately there are a lot of folks who think they want to live in 1911, rather than in 2011.

Chief among those people is this ruthless idiot:

Ever since the dawn of the so-called Progressive movement over a century ago, liberals have used every tool at their disposal — including notably the Supreme Court — to wage a gradual war on the Constitution and the American way of life…

(Click on the quote to find out which presidential candidate said it, and what else they think about the last century’s progress)

 

The question you need to ask yourself, on this of all days, is what century do you want to live in?

 

Happy Labor Day folks.

The God Whisperer

It was raining this morning on my drive into Anchorage.

I thought it was just, you know, rain.

But things apparently are not as they seem. 

Weather, I’ve learned, is God mumbling under his breath.

I didn’t know, I thought water falling from the clouds was just precipitation.

Turns out rain is how God gives financial advice.

I swear I would have paid more attention to the weather if I had known, but here in the south central coastal Alaskan rainforest God never seems to shut the hell up. It rains a lot here in the summer, and it snows a lot in the winter, the ground shakes a lot and the wind howls a lot, it floods in the spring and burns in the fall.

Then, of course, there are the volcanoes.

And the tsunamis.

God, it would seem, is exactly like one of those yappy little dogs that never stops barking.

What brings this up? Why, Michele Bachmann, of course:

I don't know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians. We've had an earthquake; we've had a hurricane. He said, 'Are you going to start listening to me here?' Listen to the American people because the American people are roaring right now. They know government is on a morbid obesity diet and we've got to rein in the spending.

Now a cynic might accuse Bachmann of exploiting a natural disaster in order to curry favor with her dimwitted base.  A cynical writer might ridicule her for her crass stupidity. 

But I won’t.

Of course I won’t.

 

Yeah, the hell I won’t.

Bachmann claims she was just joking about the whole billions of dollars in damage, economic disaster, lost livelihoods, thousands of homes lost, whole towns wiped out, catastrophic flooding, and not to mention forty something people dead, all as a way for God to get Congress’ attention. Because, as you know, God is a member of the Tea Party.  

How come God can’t just tap you on the shoulder and tell you what He wants?  No no, he’s got to flood half the damned country and make you guess.  And, stick with me here, Crazy Eyes Bachmann is his designated mouthpiece? Really?

It’s just me, right?

God apparently didn’t realize that the politicians he was talking to weren’t even in session or anywhere near Washington when the storm came roaring through.  Omnipotent my ass. Oh yes, funny, ha ha. 

But hey, only an idiot would take her seriously, right?

Signs in the heavens. Thunder caused by the gods tossing boulders about.  Lightning bolts hurled from Mount Olympus to smite the mortals! Waves caused by Poseidon shaking his trident. Sickness is a divine pox upon mankind, perhaps if we beat our flesh with whips we can appease God and stop the plague.

Ooooh, wait, I know, human sacrifice!

What?

Oh, riiight. Right. Sorry. Nobody believes that kind of silly nonsense. Well, not anymore.

Nobody.

Of course they don’t. Because that would be some crazy stupid shit right there, wouldn’t it?

Just for fun, let’s take a look at the comments under FoxNews and Yahoo, shall we?

Michelle Bachman needs to be elected to save the nation from crowning Obama, the antichrist, as the leader of the world! He is the BEAST spoken of in the Book of Revelations! Along with Pope Benedict and Satan, Obama will be crowned king of the world by you STUPID earth-dwelling sinners!! America is DOOMED! [SIC]

Oh noes! King of the world! The Beast!  We’re doooooooomed!  It would be funny, except that I know people who believe exactly this. They literally believe with all their gnarled wrinkled fearful little hearts that Obama is the literal and actual anti-Christ as foretold in the book of Revelation. They know this because their self-righteous wrinkled fearful little preacher man told them it was true and he doesn’t lie.  Of course, before Obama it was Clinton the Anti-Christ.  It’s always the Son of Satan with these people. Always.  It can’t be just a guy we don’t agree with, it’s got to be the Devil, it’s got to be the End Times, it’s got to be the Second Coming!  Oh noes!  The devil is everywhere!

People actually believe this silly horseshit.

People just like Michele Bachmann.

Here’s a question, how come if the Book of Revelation is God’s literal plan – which ends with all the bad people getting cornholed by the Devil and all the good people getting sucked up to heaven to party with Jesus and the earth gets destroyed anyway, period, no matter what, because that’s what God said, praise Jesus, then what in the hell are these people bitching about?  Isn’t that what they want? Isn’t that exactly what they pray for every damned Sunday?  By definition, America is doomed, period. Right? They’ve been waiting and praying for exactly that for two thousand goddamned years. If Obama is really the anti-whatsis, why aren’t they out in the street cheering?  I mean, the End Times are here, right? Two millennia of waiting over, woohoo! Why wouldn’t they be voting for Obama? If we elect Bachmann doesn’t that actually delay the end of the world? According to the Bible, the son-O-Satan has to be king of the world, right? If you don’t vote for Obama, it just delays the final takeover and therefore the big rapture. Seriously, I don’t get it, is Obama the anti-Christ or isn’t he? Do you believe the stupid shit you’re saying or don’t you? Which chapter of the Bible is this written down in?

Religion makes my head hurt.

God's message is just not for politicians but for all the world. Read Matt. 24. the Bible is Gods Holy Word. He said in this chapter there would be earthquakes, famines ,pestilences{incurable dieases} waves roaring meaning tidal waves or tsunamis ,There will be wars and rumors of wars. Pray that you maybe the accounted worthy to escape all these things. "Howl ye the day of the Lord for it will come as a destruction from the ALMIGHTY!" Yes, these are God's judgements. Noah escaped because he prayed and and God warned him ahead of time.to get ready. He obeyed and he escaped. Yes, in the days of Noah God repented he made man because of their wickedness. YES! he destroyed the whole earth , men women, yes even children. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a living God. Hebrews 11:7 By faith Noah being warned of God of things not seen as yet , moved with fear and prepared an ark for the saving of his house." Jesus is your ark of safety today. If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus Christ and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead thou shalt be saved. God destroyed all flesh in Noah's day. The Bible says unless he shortened the days there would be no flesh. saved. But our soul can be saved if we believe in Jesus. HE IS COMING! [sic]

Seriously, how in the hell do you reason with that gibberish?  Earthquakes, famines, disease, waves, wars, and rumors? Oh like we haven’t seen this stuff before.  What’s next? An eclipse? Oooh, evil portents! What makes these earthquakes, famines, diseases, waves, and wars different from all the earthquakes, famines, diseases, waves, and wars that have come before? Let’s be honest here, these people have managed to ignore plague and famine and war and genocide and hurricanes and earthquakes and untold evils every damned other place in the world for last couple of decades, what makes this one so special? Because it happened to New York? Really?  That’s the sign? Please point to the chapter in your holy book that says so. Go on, I’ll wait.

I used to live in southern California, earthquake, fire, pestilence, and war are pretty much a standard autumn, if you could work in a little famine you’d have all four horsemen of the Apocalypse. How come that isn’t a sign of the Apocalypse? 

Personal pet peeve: we have the ability to cure disease and stop famine – we just choose not to do it.  Ditto war.  Earthquakes and waves? We can mitigate the effects of those things too – but just like global climate change, we’d prefer to stand in the path of disaster and argue about God’s big magic juju plan rather than take action. You ever wonder if maybe God is just killing off the stupid people? There’s this old joke about a guy trapped on the roof of his house in the middle of a flood, so he prays to God for rescue. Along comes a helicopter, but the guy waves it away saying “God will save me!”  The waters rise and the house shakes on its foundations. Along comes a boat, but again the man waves it away saying “God will save me!” The waters rise and the man is swept away and drowned. He goes to heaven and stands in front of God and asks bewildered, “Why didn’t you save me?” and God replies, “I sent you a helicopter, I sent you a boat, you fucking idiot, what the hell do you want?”

Obama admitted he is a Muslim to George Stenonolofuss on an interview but then George told Obama that he was a Christian and Obama agreed with him. Everyone knows it's OK for a Muslim to LIE to an Infidel. [sic]

Question: who the hell is The Stenonolofuss? Is that from the Doctor Seuss Book of Revelation?

There is no separation of church and state without freedom from liberalism.

I, uh, wait, what? (See how many things you can find wrong with that one sentence, regard it as a challenge)

Michelle is most likely right, but it also could be the fact that Matthew 24 and Luke 21 is being fulfilled before our very eyes! The problem is that the media is only giving problems to Christianity. What do you think one of those fundie muzzies would do if we attacked them for saying what they do About Allah? Even tohugh they think Allah has told them that they need to annialate America, and we just turn our backs on those threats in the name of being politically correct? Michelle shouldnt have backed down That alone says how weak of a leader she would be! Icedently folks, did you know that Hurricane Katrina formed right after this nation turned its back on Israel? Another hurricane is forming today, the day after Backman was attacked for what she said!!!! HHHMMM.....maybe she was right and God is going to spank this nation for attacking one of his own?! Reguardless, its called FREEDOM OF SPEACH!!!!!! Bachman was the constitutional RIGHT t osay what she wants, even if someone doesnt like it! YOU GO GIRL!!!! [sic]

Oh yes, you go girl.  Go out and maybe take an English class. Also maybe a couple courses in logic. Also make a science class or two. It’s been a couple of centuries since not-goofy people actually believed that gods and spirits cause weather … wait, hold on, unless you’re saying those ghostly images on the weather Doppler are, no way, couldn’t be! Holy shit, we can track God with radar!

Please tell me where anywhere in our founding documents it states that there is a separation of church and state? We have freedom OF religion, not freedom FROM religion.

Glad we cleared that up. Question: Anybody else find it odd that the Framers didn’t mention how religion was a requirement to be an American? Just me again, huh? Sigh.

And my personal favorite:

If any group of people need to be punished by God it is the states that were devastated. They all voted for the Antichrist not to mention are run by gays, socialists and are all broke. I leave out Va and NC from this because ACORN stole the election for the DNC criminals in those 2. Why is it that a blue state wont pay their bills? Try saving, frugality and getting back to God. Either u serve Jesus or Satan, we know how the Demomarxists feel, so hope they all enjoy hell. Leviticus 18:22-29. Read it and weep, Demomarxists.

I think you mean Demomarxist Nazi Anti-Christs!

 

Oh no, nobody would take Bachmann’s statement as anything other than jest.  Nobody at all.

Certainly not her target audience. No Sir.

When God hates all the same people you do, when God endorses your personal agenda by shaking the earth and smiting only the states of your political enemies, well, you know, maybe it’s time to reexamine your belief system.

Ask yourself something, what’s God trying to tell Texas? After all, the state is in the worst drought in a century.  If God sent down a deluge upon Vermont as a message to Washington DC to spend less, well then is the opposite true? No rain in the Lone Star State means God wants Texans to pay more? 

I’m hip.

What about all those wildfires in Arizona? Was that God trying to tell Jan Brewer to stop acting like a douchebag? Or does God only hate the liberals in Tucson? And Mexicans?

What was the message God was sending when he drowned all those deeply religious poor black people in New Orleans a couple years back? Anybody else visualizing that scene out of Blazing Saddles? Don’t move or I’ll shoot the n… No? Well, okay, what the hell was God saying then?

Pretty obvious God hates the ever living hell out of California.

Here’s the thing, Bachmann made that joke in the context she did because she damned well knows her audience.

And because she knows they think just exactly like the commenters above.

 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s raining out and I think God is telling me to have another beer.

Things That Chap My Ass About Going To The Fair

“Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.” 

                                                     – Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes

 

Is it just me?

Or are there a whole lot more stupid people than there used to be?

Ever heard of The Fermi Paradox?

Back in the late 1950’s, a brilliant physicist named Enrico Fermi asked a simple question:  Where are they?

He was talking about extraterrestrial civilizations. He was talking about life, specifically intelligent life, elsewhere in the universe.

See, there ought to be a lot of them, detectable extraterrestrial civilizations that is. 

Except we can’t detect even one.

So where are they?

Another brilliant scientist, this time a radio astronomer named Frank Drake, formulated an equation called appropriately enough The Drake Equation (It’s officially the Green Bank Formula but nobody calls it anything but The Drake Equation) that basically takes the number of detectable stars in the visible universe and calculates the number of those that might have planets. Then takes the number of those planet-forming stars and calculates the number that might have earthlike worlds.  Then the equation plugs in an estimate of how many of those earthlike worlds are places where life might have formed, next you guess how many of those life bearing worlds might have evolved intelligent life, and of those, how many might have given rise to civilizations advanced enough to broadcast intelligible signals into space and of those, how many might be close enough for us to detect here on earth (I think Drake missed a step, to wit: and of the signals reaching the earth how many will arrive when there is actually enough public interest in science that the politicians would actually fund the effort to look for them. But I digress).

Now, up until very recently, those numbers were almost all guesswork and so scientists were very conservative with the estimates they plugged in. Nevertheless, no matter how you sliced it, the final estimate of the probable number of intelligent alien civilizations in the observable universe still should have been “many.” And guesswork or not, Drake’s equation provided a place to start when we went looking for evidence of alien intelligence.  

Of course we haven’t found any.

And that’s really odd given that recent advances in astronomy indicate that those conservative guesses were way off – turns out that there are a hell of a lot more stars in the universe than Drake thought back in 1961.  And I mean a lot, orders of magnitude more, unbelievable bazillions more,  whole googolplexes of stars and galaxies and stellar clusters, more than we ever thought – you can thank the Hubble Space Telescope and other advanced instruments for that.  Not only that, but one hell of a lot more of those stars have planets – far far more so than even the most conservative astronomers would have guessed.  We’ve seen some of them, those alien worlds, circling far distant stars, and we’re finding more of them every single day.

The universe, it would seem, is chock a block with worlds that could very likely harbor life – including intelligent life. 

There should be alien civilizations everywhere.

And yet, we have detected not a single one. Not one.

So we return to Fermi’s paradox: Where the hell are they?

 

I have a theory.

Stupid people ate them.

 

See, there’s an idea within the study of evolution that goes something along the lines of: when a species achieves intelligence, it stops evolving. 

Intelligence may not be a long term survival characteristic. 

Yeah, I know. Bummer, Dude.

It’s entirely possible that evolution will discard intelligence right along with T-Rex’s little stubby arms and the Neanderthal’s huge giant, uh, brow ridge.

See, instead of survival of the most fit, instead of weeding out the chowderheads, instead of letting the silly stupid bastards be eaten by sabertoothed tigers as nature intended, civilization keeps them around.  And since stupid people aren’t good for much of anything except getting smart people killed, mostly what they do is lay around watching Jersey Shore, eating Pop Tarts, and making more stupid people. 

Once the process of evolution stops, sooner or later you’re going to end up ass deep in booger eating morons and sooner or later one of them gets access to the nuclear weapons and it’s curtains for civilization.

Look around, doesn’t it seem like there are a whole lot more stupid people than there used to be?

There you go.

 

We spent yesterday at the fair.

Now, the annual Alaska State Fair is one of my favorite events.

I look forward to it all year.

I love fairs and always have, all kinds.  I like those crappy little carnivals and big top circuses. I enjoy farmer’s markets.  I dig small town celebrations and big city fests.  But I especially love state fairs – that’s where it all comes together, deep fried sugary deliciousness accompanied by the aroma of livestock and the sound of the monster tractor pull. 

But, man, I tell you, every single year it just seems like there are more and more stupid people. 

I’m telling you, the goofy bastards are breeding like mayflies! 

For example, like the Drake Equation, you can calculate the number of people in the world, and from that you can figure out the percentage who live in Alaska, and from that the number who might come to the State Fair and from that the number that might have small children and from that the number that might be pushing strollers.

And just like the Drake equation, you’d be wrong by a factor of at least a billion.

Math doesn’t lie, folks, but it sure can exaggerate the hell out of things.

There are few irritations in the world I hate as much as I hate stroller pushers.  If ever there was a group of idiots that should have been eaten by sabertooth cats long before they were old enough to breed, it’s these mouth breathers.  Now when I say stroller pushers I’m talking about people who insist on pushing their kid around a crowded fair (or zoo, or concert, or store, or anywhere other people gather in large numbers) in Jaba The Hut’s Party Barge. As I mentioned on Facebook, what in the hell is the deal with strollers?  Everybody is pushing a stroller.  People who don’t have kids are pushing strollers. And the modern stroller is not your parents’ simple little rig of wheels, aluminum and cloth that could fold up and fit behind the seat of a Mini Cooper.  Oh hell no, this is the SUV generation, this is the Super Size Me generation, this is the Raging Age of Viagra where bigger is better and loves you bang bang long time.  I’m talking about those drooling hard-ons who think their worth is determined by the immense size of their vehicles.  The modern baby stroller is a massive all-terrain juggernaut of plastic and chrome, a thunderous behemoth of immense earth rattling splendor large enough to transport a fully grown circus elephant.  They plow through the crowd like a Russian nuclear powered icebreaker smashing through the North Pole icecap. God help you should you get hit by one, it’s like being run over by a cement mixer driven by Rosanne Barr with Louie Anderson riding shotgun.

Hell, a mere grazing blow is likely to leave you crippled for life. 

If you’re really lucky, a herd of these cud chewers will come to the fair together, arriving in a caravan of SUV’s the size of Sarah Palin’s Great American Greyhound Leviathan of Patriotic American Liberty.  They move through the crowd in regulation chevron formation like an army of unstoppable lumbering brontosauruses crossing some Jurassic savannah crushing all beneath their monstrous tread.   The best part is when they congregate into a large bellowing group (what is a herd of strollers called? A diaper? A drool? A rectum?) and block pedestrian traffic in all directions.

Then there’s the guy I like to call The Camel’s Hump. He’s the clueless miscreant with the backpack. Now I’m not talking about some little sissy fanny pack, or a modest day sling, or one of those small fair bags they hand out for free at the BP Booth. No, I’m talking about the asshole who is lugging a pack that makes you think he’s off to climb Mount Everest.  What in the name of the rampant six trunked elephant god does he have in there? A piano? A moving van?  He’s off balance and tottering through the crowd like some clockwork drunkard and just about the time he’s right next to you one of his  stroller pushing asshole friends shouts across the crowd at him and what happens?  He whirls around like a humpbacked mutant Russian ballerina from the Chernobyl Ballet Company and BLAMO! knocks you flying – usually into the stroller that was being pushed up your ass by the impatient brontosaur behind you.

While you’re laying there, on the cotton candy coated pavement, praying to the shiny elephant god not to be crushed beneath the grinding stroller wheels, you can get an excellent view of Redneck Under Belly Tattoo and the winking five fingered Belly Button Ring of Horror.  Always a treat.  Unfortunately bleach and a power drill are the only way you’re getting that vision out of your brain.

Now, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Standard Issue Cell Phone Asshole, but the fair brings out the special kind of stupid in these people.  I stepped into the restroom to do what you’d normally do after consuming a couple of excellent lattes from the Vagabond Blues booth and just about the time I’m in position, The Camel’s Hump staggers into port next to me.  On his back is a screaming little girl of indeterminate age lashed into one of those kid backpack contraptions like some kind of Siamese twin from hell.  I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time concentrating on my business when there’s a midget demon screaming in my ear.  But wait, it gets better – Camel Hump’s phone rings! Understand, Hump is midstream in the river so to speak, but, damn, you know that call might be important.  He’s fumbling in one pocket while holding Mr. Slippery with the other and the kid is screaming and kicking and let’s just say that Camel Hump begins to lose target lock.  Excuse me, says I, but let’s try to keep it in the urinal, eh? But Hump doesn’t hear me because he’s now shouting Hello? Hello?! into his phone and has completely given up on even a pretense of aiming.  With a superhuman effort equal to the energy required to move a Saturn V moonship from the vehicle assembly building to the launch pad, I choke off the flow and step back out of range.  If I had been wearing my waterproof hiking boots I would have stayed and damn the flood, but I was wearing clogs.  The small red faced parasite on Hump’s back waved to me and smiled a devilish grin as I washed my hands.

I fled the restroom and ran right into Fred Flintstone – you know him, the Neanderthal with the barbequed pterodactyl drumstick.  What in the hell is it with the giant fried turkey leg? Seriously? Lips smacking, scraps of skin and globs of grease flying.  Hey Conan, here’s a napkin and try chewing with your mouth closed.  For the life of me I can’t understand the allure of the giant turkey leg, or plowing through the crowd while eating it.  Hell, it’s the whole walking around, dodging strollers, while leaving a trail of soggy elephant ears and melting ice cream that gets me.  We were looking at RV’s and a woman came lumbering up the steps and pushed past us into the cramped space without so much as a pardon me – or even a ‘fuck you!’ though that might have been implied.  She was eating soup.  Soup, from a Styrofoam bowl with a plastic spoon.  Soup, which she proceeded to drip all over the inside of the $60,000 vehicle. Soup.  I suggested to the vender that maybe somebody should smack her upside the head with a fried turkey drumstick.

Speaking of trailers, ain’t it great when they bring the trailer park to you?

If these people were dogs, they’d be the kind what always stop at the most inopportune time to lick their balls in public.

You know the ones, those astoundingly obnoxious folks who fight in public. The horrifyingly loud women with the Pall Mall and the Twilight tattoo who’s wearing the way, way too small halter top and the over loaded stretch pants.  Who spends the entire fair making a scene. The one that had a couple  too many in the beer tent. Yeah, her. She screams at her kids and her husband (or the guy who this month the kids are calling “Uncle Bill,” whatever).  Sooner or later she’s going to be crying and telling somebody in uniform to fuck right off.

 

See that’s the answer to Fermi’s question, right there.

Where are they?

Oh, they’re out there all right.

But they’re idiots.

That’s it. The universe is full of morons.

They’re probably pushing strollers and waving fried turkey legs too.

 

 

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Note: If you thought this post was fun, you might like the complete list of Things That Just Chap My Ass.

If you didn’t think it was funny, please feel free to stick a fried turkey leg in your ear.

The New Crazy, Same As The Old Crazy

Fiscal conservatives, I'm one of those. National security conservatives, I'm one of those. Social conservatives, I'm one of those. And the Tea Party, I'm one of those!

That was Crazy Eyes Bachman in South Carolina this past week. 

She used that phrase, or a variation, at each of her campaign stops. 

It’s not a surprising statement given her history and clearly stated positions.

But it’s more than a little bizarre given her desire for the GOP nomination.

It’s a statement that says basically, hey, sure I’m a regressive puritan with an obsessive compulsion to impose my hypocritical evangelically mangled view of morality on your bedroom, marriage, education, thinking, and life –and despite how appealing that is to a certain segment of America, I’m also a card carrying member of the fevered pointy-hat wearing fanatic fringe, a proponent of fiscal policies that crashed our economy and brought disaster on the world, and I embrace the Bush doctrine of Kill ‘em all and let God sort it out because that has worked so well for us over the last decade.

The phrase is supposed to reach out to more than just her little niche of puckered sphincter clenchers. 

Because, see, Bachman may be the bestest red white and blue genuine American patriot since Ron Captain America Reagan invented Democracy, but to actually win the Republican nomination for president she’ll have to appeal to more than just the hardliners and extremists. She’ll have to win over progressives and moderates too – i.e. those conservatives she keeps calling traitors and RINOs and unAmerican.  You know, the majority of the Republican party.

The funny part is that she actually thinks she’ll reach those people with a statement that says, in essence, “I’m a right-wing extremist.”

Michelle Bachman believes that the only real Americans are the ones who think just like her and the rest, the majority of not only the country but her own party, clearly do not count, but she figures she can flim-flam them long enough to get the nomination.

Poor Michelle, if only it was as easy to reprogram regular conservatives as it is to straighten out gay people.

Of course, Bachman isn’t the only one trying to appear something she’s not – and failing at it.

Mittens Romney, in a blatant attempt to appeal to the same extremists Bachman is currently attempting distance herself from, announced this week with a straight face that the Tea Party has been good for Washington.  Frankly I’m surprised he didn’t make that statement from a rowboat in the middle of the Potomac while wearing a pointy George Washington hat and brandishing a misspelled sign proclaiming Obama Tis Of Ye Old Devil.

The Tea Party is good for Washington DC about the same way food poisoning is good for the toilet paper industry.

TPer’s want to claim that they represent the average American and that their non-partisan goal is a smaller fiscally responsible government – and there may actually be some members of the movement who really, truly believe that horse pucky.  But the obvious and overwhelming truth of the matter is that the Tea Party is composed almost exclusively of white Christian conservatives who, even before the formal inception of the movement, were highly partisan conservatives who then and now clamor wild-eyed for God in government.  The Tea Party leaders may say that the movement’s goals are not religiously or politically motivated, but the rock throwers in the street have a different agenda.

There’s some real irony in a group of people who think they’re going to get less government intrusion in their lives by including God in government. I’ve been in countries run by religious extremists, including Christian ones, theocracy isn’t exactly big on personal freedom or letting you keep your money, but I digress.

Last June, Bachman claimed that the Tea Party was made up of sixty percent republicans, twenty percent independents, and twenty percent democrats.   Notably she didn’t bother to back those figures up with any actual validated data.  Probably because she pulled the numbers out of her boney white ass like well lubed love beads. Now, there are apparently democrats in the Tea Party, about nine to twelve percent, depending on which polling data you look at – the same percentage of democrats that coincidently voted for John McCain in the last election.  The Tea Party trots these folks out at every opportunity along with Herman Cain, their one token non-white crazy rich guy.

More telling than polling numbers however are the Tea Party’s candidates. 

Name one Tea Party backed freshman member of Congress who is a democrat.

Right.

If you look really hard on the local election level, you might find the one oddball Democrat endorsed by a local Tea Party chapter. But when you look at the so-called democrat candidate backed by the Tea Party, you find neither a liberal nor a conservative but rather a self serving conniving asshole who’ll say whatever he thinks will get him elected – you know, like Mittens.  Take sometimes Democrat Jack Davis, who ran on the Tea Party ticket in the recent New York special elections.  He ran three times before as a liberal, but this time suddenly he was a conservative (He got about nine percent of the vote and lost so badly that next time he’ll probably run on the Rent-Is-Too-Damned-High ticket just for laughs).

Like Herman Cain’s skin color in a frothing sea of pale mottled whiteness, the percentage of non-right wing extremists backed by the Tea Party is so low as to be utterly inconsequential.  The folks who back Michelle Bachman are far more likely to vote for Cannibal Hitler’s Head in a Pickle Jar than a democrat. 

Speaking of pickled heads, there’s Rick Perry, yet another Tea Party favorite who used to be a democrat before he and Jesus became drinking buddies.

No religious extremism there, no sir.

I don’t know which brand of booger eating crazy I find more unnerving, Perry’s pray-the-gay-away and give-us-some-rain-today theocracy or Bachman’s religion driven pseudo-science social engineering – together the two of them are like the second coming of Incurious George mixed up with eugenics and the lumpy art of phrenology. 

Actually, come to think of it, eugenics and phrenology might just explain George the Pinheaded, but I digress.

Anyway, so far my favorite part of this carnival house of mirrors is the part where Rick Perry proclaimed he’ll make a dandy Commander in Chief because the troops will respect him for his vast military experience.  I think I might have actually snorted chocolate milk through my nose at that.  Funny how an Air Force shave-tail C-130 cargo pilot with three whole years of peacetime service should automatically command the unconditional respect of the US military, but somebody with three purple hearts, the silver star and the bronze star is a scumbag deserving of nothing but contempt – if he’s a democrat and happens to be, oh, say, John Kerry.  That’s probably why Perry switched parties, so his military service would count for something.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by this, given the number of TPer’s who show up here at Stonekettle Station and question my military service by making sneering references to the traitor Bradley Manning (which is a level of ignorance that boggles the mind, given my clearly stated position on that particular subject, but I’ve come to expect little in the way of rationality from these people). Perry claims he’ll get the economy moving again, he knows how to create jobs – just like in Texas where shitty minimum-wage jobs with no benefits in the oil industry are booming.  Funny how Perry never seems to mention that those jobs were created by high gasoline prices and at the expense of every other state in the Union.  What was Perry’s plan for scaling that up to the national level again? Drill for oil in Rhode Island? Fracking outstanding, folks.

Perry is the very epitome of the modern conservative: a religious fundamentalist who talks about liberty, a guy who claims to have created jobs in the technology sector while denying the most basic tenets of modern science, a politician who hates the federal government and yet aspires to its highest office, a man who claims to champion individual rights and freedoms and yet advocates Constitutional amendments that would deny those very rights and freedoms to a certain segment of the population, a lousy student who thinks he’s qualified to reform the education system, a man who claims to love America better than you and me and yet openly advocates seceding from the Union.  This is a man who talks about how conservatives must stick together to win back their America and then he screws over the other members of his party by making his big announcement on the same day as the Ames Straw Poll – a page he apparently took from the Sarah Palin playbook, oh look, it’s the American Juggernaut of Patriotic American Freedom pulling into the parking lot. Will she declare? Yes? No? Or will she just run over the bandstand and crush her rivals? Ooooh, the suspense is killing us! 

It’s a given that Republicans eat their young, but this kind of nonsense is getting a little out hand.

Who’s left?

Pawlenty? At least he had the sense to fold.

Newt Gingrich?  Is he actually still in the race? Or is he too busy screwing around on his third wife because he loves America so much? What’s the line? Put a flag over her face and do it for Old Glory? That’s Newt.  I mean honestly, what’s this guy up to? Stealth may be good for fighter jets but it sure as hell isn’t a way to run a presidential campaign.

There’s Jon Huntsman, seemingly the only rational one in the Republican lineup – and doomed from the start though you have to admire his optimism.

Oops, I almost forgot Ron Paul.  The guy with the magic mojo plan.  Every time I see him on the news, he reminds me of one of those yappy little dogs old ladies carry around in their purse –  the kind with the wiry hair and the little sweaters and that always seems to have some kind of skin disease and that black goopy crud in the corners of their eyes. 

Maybe Christine O’Donnell will run, that would be fun – for about five minutes, right up until the first interview where she’s asked to explain one of her bizarre statements in more detail.  Seriously, if there was ever a person who desperately needed to spend a long sweaty weekend in Cancun getting in some dirty barebacked jungle monkey sack time with a swarthy young guy named Manolo, it’s Christine O’Donnell.

Or Maybe The Donald will throw his toupee into the ring again.  I see he’s back on the birther kick this week and frankly this race could use some humor.

So, where’s that leave us?

Extremists, paranoids, religious nuts, know-nothings, the usual conservative sexual bugaboos, moralizers, hair gel, war mongering, flying monkeys, and the second coming of Ross Perot.

Forty years ago Republicans were serious men in white shirts and somber ties, the guys with the buzz cuts and slide rules, scientists and engineers who got us to the moon and back – while the liberals danced naked in the Age of Aquarius dreaming their hippy dreams and rubbing magic crystals to cure their case of the clap.  

Honest to Cthulhu, folks, what in the hell happened to the GOP?

Conservatives need to stop talking about taking their country back and work on taking back their party.