Tuesday, September 30, 2008


GOP show horse, Sarah Palin’s recent gaffe-fest proved two things: one: it’s hard out there for a simp. And two:


Still, it seems Mr. and Mrs. Maverick ain’t gonna blink. Instead, she’s been whisked off into the witless protection program and ensconced at her pimp’s crib in Arizona, where she crams for Thursday’s debate, surrounded by handlers, being spoon fed facts and talking points, all under the proud and watchful eye of Johnny Mac, who proved two things in choosing her as a running mate: that he’s got brains the size of peanuts and balls the size of planets. Meanwhile, the Repug flacks have taken to the public highways to set the bar so low that unless she walks onstage wearing a Che Guevara T shirt and takes a dump on the flag, her performance will be declared a raging success. And with days to go, the dominant news chatter is all about how she’ll do, toe-to-toe with Joe Biden. Will she be able to express herself coherently? Will she hold her own? Will she be able to demonstrate a command of the issues and challenges facing our great nation? But the truth is: it doesn’t matter how she does, because…


They could coach her from now until the end times. They could mind-meld her with Christiane Amanpour, Madeline Albright, Doris Kearns Goodwin, and the ghosts of Eleanor Roosevelt, Barbara Jordan, and Golda Meir…She could come out Thursday night scatting the Constitution, along with the collected works of Arnold Toynbee, John Kenneth Galbraith, and Benjamin Franklin, while armpit-farting the Stars and Stripes, and twirling red, white and blue flaming batons, with a piccolo stuck up her ass playing the Star Spangled Banner, while tap dancing morse code coordinates of Bin Laden’s hideout, waving semaphore flags articulating Justice Warren’s majority decision in Brown v. Topeka Board of Education, then toss off her glasses, shake out her hair and rip off her dress revealing a Wonderwoman suit, spin around in mid air then burst into flames and explode in a July 4th fireworks finale while shooting red, white and blue triplets out of her vagina, who spin in the air and land one on top of another with the top one holding lady liberty’s torch and wearing her crown, while Sarah lands on her feet behind the podium and, in a final flourish, brings peace to the Middle East and cures Cancer… And it still wouldn’t matter because…


But, you know, who am I to judge? So, best of luck. Give ‘em hell. Break a leg, shoot a moose, or whatever they say up there. And fyi, it’s pronounced mah-MOOD ah-mad-in-uh-ZHAAD.



Friday, September 26, 2008


Bye, Sarah. After the latest Katie Couric interview/non sequitir festival, Ms. Squawking Points has officially outed herself as way too much of an imbecile to keep on the ticket. Even with those furtive glances down at her cheat sheets, she still couldn’t cobble together a coherent response to any question, let alone the one asked by Ms. Couric about the bailout. “It’s the economics…and the job creation…and the trade…which we can’t look at as scary…” Holy fucking crap. Unless McCain’s handlers are equally as imbecilic, which is possible but not likely, they must realize the spin cycle on this one is broken and there’s no time to call tech support or send her back to the factory. She’s gone before the Veep debate.


There’s no way in hell they’re not behind closed doors crafting her exit strategy. Among the choices: family emergency, sick kid, husband has heart attack, most likely at the same Alaska hospital where she gave birth. But, I don’t think they’ll go this way. It’s too thin. I think the only way here is to destroy her. The evidence is already floating on the periphery: Troopergate, the bridges and roads to Nowhere, her friend the witch doctor, I see Russia from my house, the alleged affair with the husband’s co-worker, the Miss Alaska swimsuit footage. Instead of pushing it away as unsubstantiated allegations, tawdry rumor and cheap shots, they just have to take the opposite approach and subtly allow it to get to the forefront while offering the illusion of a defense. Just get out the evidence and let the media poke holes in the boat. Then, once she’s good and debased, debunked, and humiliated, other than from opening her mouth and attempting to speak sentences that attach to one another to form coherent thoughts, she will withdraw from the ticket for the good of the party and the country. There’s no way they put her in the room with Biden. It’s suicide. Which would be fine with me. Kill the monsters any way you can. But these people are not suicidal. Evil. Just not suicidal. 


The question is: who’s the replacement and what’s the new story? Giuliani? The two tough guys hit the road? Keeping America safe? No, he scares people. Lieberman? No. Even though they’ve been holding hands all week in D.C., he’s still a Jew and other than as bit players in The End Times Theatre production of Apocalypse Soon, the base don’t like Jews. Huckabee? Possible. Though I think it’s Romney. Former governor, so he’s got the experience thing. Mormon, which sort of covers the base. But most of all, the business thing. With the economy going to shit, and Johnny Mac’s economic credibility as thin as Freddie Mac’s, he’ll bring on the business guy, who can talk economics. Plus, he’s got relative youth, hair, the big Osmond-looking family. The picture will work. And he’s already been on the big stage. No learning curve. He’s ready to lie on Day 1.


So…bye, Sarah. Have a nice trip back to Alaska. The wolves will be nervous. But the rest of us may rest a bit easier. Though, I would’ve given anything to see the debate. 

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Senator McCain: At this point, only two things are possible: you know exactly what you’re doing, in which case you’re the most arrogant, calculating, power mad son of a bitch ever to strut upon the national stage. Or, you don’t know what you’re doing in which case you have absolutely no business running for President. Either way, you’re starting to embarrass yourself. So why not just quit? Concede the election. Spare us the pain of having to sweat out the results and spare your advisors the pain of trying to figure out how to rig them. The country has suffered enough the past 8 years. We’re hurting. If you’re truly a patriot, let it go. Senator Obama can take it from here. He’s smart. He’s ready. And he remembers what he stands for. Imagine how relaxing it would be not to have to remember all those talking points and irritating facts, like knowing one country from another, when you were a regulator or deregulator. Or even when you were regular, for that matter. You don’t know what you’re for or against from one day to the next but yet you bellow and bleat your opinions and pound your fist with equal ferocity for completely contradictory assertions. (Fyi, when you break out in that insane smile, it makes my 5-month-old son bust out crying, so you’re already frightening the next generation of voters.) Before it all gets any more degrading, quit. Retire to one of your 9 houses and tend one of your 9 gardens. I imagine you like gardening. Or take a drive in one of your 13 cars. Or better yet, go on a fact-finding mission back to Vietnam and see if you can find your honor ‘cause if the way you’ve conducted your campaign is any indication, apparently that’s the last time you had it. So, enough. Just quit. And send that combination frontier hooker, Stepford wife and born again house plant back to Alaska before she even gets close to Washington. The stakes are too high. And she’s not qualified to wield power in Washington. She’s not qualified to visit Washington. She’s not qualified to see a movie with Denzel Washington.  That you actually selected this snarky, avaricious petty bureaucrat as your running mate, and then tried to convince anyone who’s ever been within spitting distance of an original thought or the most rudimentary powers of observation that she was qualified to hold national office demonstrates an irresponsibility bordering on treason, as her ascendance to that position would most certainly give aid and comfort to our enemies. Or maybe just hysterical fits of laughter. (Is that your plan to get Bin Laden? Have him laugh himself to death?) Please stop. Your party has circled the wagons and has begun shooting at each other. Stop the bleeding. Don’t debate. Don’t fundraise. Don’t campaign. Stop running these disgusting commercials before they devolve any deeper into the mud. The Congress will sort out this financial mess without you. Go home. Putter around the house. If it gets you off, fire a cook or a driver. You know, people you actually can fire. If you need to keep a hand in local politics, write an angry letter to the local paper about potholes or long lines at the DMV. On July 4th you can get one of those boater hats and be the grand marshall in a local parade. You like to wave at people. Or, if you feel you have unfinished business in politics, wait until Bush’s term is over and go kick him in the nuts for swiftboating you 8 years ago when maybe you had enough dignity to run an honorable campaign. But now it’s time to stop. At some point we all have to come to terms with the fact that we might not realize all our ambitions. You must be tired. Take a well-earned rest.  Before it just gets sad. For all of us. 

Thursday, September 4, 2008


Dressed in an ill-fitting suit, sporting craggy yellow teeth and pale skin, obviously from a lack of proper hygiene and exposure to the sun, a seemingly delirious old man staggered out in front of a large crowd at a local arena and began ranting about the state of the country and the world. The obviously confused senior unleashed a torrent of harsh attacks against some imaginary foe, frightening several children as well as a nearby pregnant teenager.


Onlookers speculate the old man had possibly gone out for a stroll and forgotten where he lived, most likely some nearby assisted living facility. Traditionally, this is the kind of thing one sees on the streets of major cities, given the amount of old age homes that have been closed due to government cutbacks.


The erratic behavior continued for about 45 minutes in front of an amused Caucasian crowd too nervous to subdue him. At times, they even encouraged him with spontaneous bursts of applause, which seemed to mollify the old gentleman, as he broke out in a eerie,  self-satisfied grin. Finally, several younger women came along who seemed to know him, one possibly a relative of some kind and the other most likely his nurse or health care professional, judging from her bookish demeanor and dark glasses. The women both flashed big, friendly smiles and waved to the crowd. The old man followed their lead and waved, at which point the crowd cheered and he was eventually lead away. One hopes by this time he’s safely back at his home, or the home, enjoying a spirited game of checkers and a nice cup of tea to wash down his Lithium. 


America, how badly do you have to be lied to and abused by the Republican Party before you finally realize they don’t give a shit about you? They’re about money and power – everything you’re not.

And elections are about holding on to power so they can make more money and they will run whatever angry son-of-a bitch, along with whatever crook or pleasant-looking incompetent they can dig up, as long as it plays to the middle class fears of the day, whether it’s higher taxes, ethnic people streaming over the border, or gay people moving next door.

Their elections are misdirections. Fear and bigotry under a waving flag. And, all too often, you buy the bullshit and the spin. And, more often than not, we all live to regret it. You don’t think so? How’d the last 8 years work out for you? An incompetent at the helm of a faltering economy, higher unemployment, a staggering national debt, a mortgage crisis, Enron, Katrina, the Justice department scandal, the Abramoff scandal, the Valerie Plame scandal. And a trillion-dollar trumped up war, thousands of Americans dead. Many thousands wounded. Millions of Iraqis dead and/or displaced. A country in ruin. All based on lies, and deceit.  But they’ve smartened up from the lessons of Vietnam. They’ve learned not to show the caskets coming home on the evening news. Because that would upset you.

            And yet, despite the abuse of the last 8 years, your response is: “Thank you, sir, may I have another!?” Are you really so blind that you can’t see that McCain, the shake-up-the-government maverick is engulfed by lobbyists and has now successfully sucked up to the fanatical right by picking Marian the Alaskan Librarian, his very own agent of intolerance, the female Quayle, as his running mate, who could theoretically be one malfunctioning defibrillator away from the most powerful job on Earth? Can you really look at this person, this snarky, petty bureaucrat, and feel that she is the most capable Vice Presidential running mate he could find? Man or woman? Are you really that pleased with the notion of her sitting behind that desk in the oval office? Pick your hero: Eisenhower, Reagan… Palin?? Are you that dim that you can’t see that this is no more than a stunt to win an election? (And who cares about the teenage daughter? Mom wants to make abstinence only work in the country. Hell, she couldn’t even make it work in her own house.)

These people have made their careers off the fact that you can be convinced that the party of wealth and privilege is manned by just plain folks who are on your side. Really? How many corporate CEOs live in your neighborhood? Still, some multi-millionaire frat boy or crusty war vet with rolled up sleeves sucks down a beer and a hot dog at the country fair and you gobble up their sincerity like a happy meal. And, all the while, the Karl Roves of the world laugh at your gullibility. Your malleability. Your inability to separate fact from propaganda, which you are fed by an army of media goons: O’Reilly. Hannity. Limbaugh. Savage. Malkin. Medved. Drudge. Dobbs. Beck. Novak. Hate mongering hiding in the Trojan horse of journalism and free speech. They have crafted an intellectual Disneyland with slogans disguised as thoughts. (“The surge has worked!” Just say it over and over and they’ll believe it.)

Meanwhile, like entertaining a puppy with a ball, they keep you occupied with phony passion over fake issues, to the point that you’ve become suspicious of intelligence. That you mistake compassion for weakness. Thoughtfulness for indecisiveness. Where electing a President isn’t about judging a candidate’s vision and intelligence. Now it’s just a Jesus litmus test with a sidebar of flagpins. But that’s ok. As long as the gays don’t marry.

For once: be smart. Look at them for who they are. Rich, powerful people whose only motivation is money and power. And they will screw the poor and the middle class four ways from Sunday to get it. And keep it.