Lost and Found:
One Large Set of Democratic Balls



Hooray for Rep. Alan Grayson (D-FL) for telling it like it is about the obstructionist Repooplicans and health care.
Go to Huffington Post, to MSNBC.com or to CNN.com and get a load of his brilliant remarks on the floor of the House.
The little bitch Repooplicans went berserk over his comments, demanding an apology.
Grayson apologized, all right, to the people who've died for lack of health care insurance.
I love this guy!

Fads Come and Go

1975

2008

The guy who came up with the pet rock made his money in the first six months of the rock's release. He enjoyed a little surge in sales at Christmas time in 1975, but that was it. The fad only lasted that long.
Our nation's newest pet rock is Sarah Palin.
Her $7 million book deal will probably mark the beginning and end of her quest for riches.
Lecture circuit? Not so much.
Seems Palin signed up with a powerhouse booking service in Washington, DC that's asking $100,000 for Palin to give a speech.
Trouble is, nobody's asking.
Traditionally, universities and large corporations are the booking service's best clients. But an insider said universities tend to want liberal speakers or intellectuals, and corporations shy away from controversial speechmakers.
Palin, like George Bush, may possess a modicum of folksy charm, but she's not terribly bright, insightful or even interesting.
Her big debut speech to global investors in China was said to have been a bust: humorless and boring. Several people walked out midway, saying they had better things to do with their time.

Like the pet rock used to be, she's merely a conversation piece.

She's a fad. Flavor of the month. Flash in the pan.
She blew her political chances by being a quitter. Honestly, if running a state with fewer than a million residents was too hard for her, why would anyone think she'd be up to the task of holding any national political office?
Unlike the pet rock, she's actually able to talk. I'm pretty sure if one of those rocks could have talked back in the day, they would have sounded an awful lot like Palin.
So, let's not worry about Palin making any meteoric rise to political prominence.
She's played out, and that's why her book publisher rushed publication of her book. Like the pet rock guy, they wanted a surge in sales come Christmas time.
But if you wait, I'm sure you can get her book for just a few bucks when it lands on the bargain table of every American bookstore come next spring.

Bad, Bad Dogs.



The thing about politics that used to be fun was knowing that Bush and his cronies were losers who'd eventually turn people against the Republican party.
Mission accomplished.
Then we Democrats got a smart president and majorities in both Houses of Congress, and things looked like they were going to get a whole lot better.
Then they didn't.
Gitmo's still open.
Wars are still being waged in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Gays are still second class citizens.
And health care reform is gasping for air in the intensive care unit.

President Obama may have shown some brilliance in getting himself elected, but he's totally disappointed us in the way he failed to tame the dreaded Blue Dog Democrats.
Virtual unknowns, like Finance Committee Chairman Max Baucus (D-Montana), Tom Carper (D-Delaware), Kent Conrad (D-North Dakota), Bill Nelson (D-Florida) and Blanche Lincoln (D-Arkansas) have managed to join the obstructionist GOP and derail health care reform thus far.
This health care debacle has taught us one thing for certain: too many of our elected officials serve big business rather than the voters who elected them.

For the last 8 years, I thought I had an obligation as a citizen, taxpayer and voter to write about political failures and malfeasance on my blog. But it's just not that much fun anymore.
I'm starting to believe there really is no difference between the Democrats and the Republicans. They possess interchangeable parts--the weak act strong and the strong act weak, creating a symbiotic relationship that's as dysfunctional as any house full of drunks.

Oh, I love watching the Obamas from a People magazine standpoint. They are so happy and bright, and their kids and dog always make me smile when I see photos of them. I really like all four of the Obamas as people.

But as a president, Obama has shown weakness in dealing with these scum sucking Blue Dogs. These (mostly) small state nobodies have obstructed meaningful health care reform as well as any obstinate Republican.
I have zero hope their reputations as loyal Democrats will be diminished by their colleagues or their constituents.
Obama set the tone for this to occur.
I remember Lyndon Johnson when he wanted to press for civil rights legislation. He had his share of conserva-dems who tried to obstruct the process, but after taking them to the woodshed they fell in line and Johnson prevailed.
LBJ had many flaws, but weakness was not one of them.
Obama has fewer flaws, but his biggest one turns out to be weakness.

And people wonder why I blog about Dancing With the Stars and other fluff.
Feh.

No Oil Shortage Here



Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.
In this remarkably unPhotoshopped photo of Palin arriving at the gates of the Hong Kong airport, Palin looks a little greasy and wild eyed.
Oh, I know those trans-Pacific flights are long, but damn girl, they have tiny restrooms on airplanes with these shiny reflective things over the sink we call mirrors.
They also have this cool product called face powder that you dab on to absorb grease and take the shine off.
Looks like Caribou Barbie might want to spend some of that advance money from her upcoming book on a traveling stylist. She's starting to look as crappy as she sounds.

Puzzling Coincidence?



After a record hot summer and a drought that sent San Antonio into Phase I water restrictions, I stopped smoking and it's been either rainy or overcast ever since.
This coming weekend, I'm having people over to help me dispose of the garage I recently had demolished, sort of like a reverse barn raising.
I am dreading the weather on Saturday--scattered thunderstorms are predicted, or maybe just a lot of suffocating humidity.
I'm pretty sure if I started smoking again the skies might get clearer and the humidity levels might drop, but I have a feeling I'm alone in that near-certainty.
Yesterday may as well have been called stressterday. Too many worries that a husband or butch girlfriend should have had to deal with.
I came thisclose to smoking, but an hilarious phone call with my bloggy pal Helen Wheels distracted me long enough to get past the craving.
Today is a new day.
A new, cloudy day.

Not Again!



Turns out my otherwise wonderful car has one little design flaw...it has so many electronic doodads on it, it sucks batteries dry like a starving puppy on a skinny mama.
Having replaced a battery just last fall (car was still under warranty and it didn't cost me a cent) now it looks like I have another dead one on my hands. Seriously, I looked on the Internet and found a mess of Acura TL owners with the same problem. It's our little cross to bear.
Sigh.
My neighbors all work and my block turns into a ghost town during the day.

That means I have to:
1. Walk my long-dormant bicycle to the place down the block to have the low tires pumped up.
2. Ride home and get my gear.
3. Ride to the auto parts store a few blocks away. Buy a battery. Put it in the bike basket and ride home.
4. Replace the dead battery with the new one.

Sounds easy enough except for step 4.
Replacing the battery means horrible things, like having to remember which thing went where and trying not to nick, cut or bruise myself with the tools needed to undo and redo the batteries.

I hate chores like this.
I need a husband or big dumb butch to do this kind of crap for me.

Yup Yup Yup, I've Been Clueless



Whew. I had to take a break from my usual MSNBC prime time line-up this week.
I was about to crack under the weight of political jibberjabber.
I had to face that the world would probably be okay for a week without my righteous indignation.
Now it's Friday and I have no idea what's been going on.
I can assume that the far right is still crazy, the Congress is still bickering and Obama is still keeping an even keel, without yelling at anyone who needs to be yelled at.
San Antonio's horrible summer, with record high temperatures and drought conditions has ended. After a week of drenching, rejuvenating rain, now it's 69 degrees, dry and snuggly outside.
It's cool enough to wear my favorite sweats- a beautiful burgundy pair of thick ones with a very cool stripe of rough burgundy satin down the legs. They are happy pants.
I am happy today.
Today I am apolitical, clueless and cool.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Best bad dancer EVER!



Forget Tom DeLay, the Dancing With the Stars dark horse, and I do mean horse, is Macy Gray.
With her giant head and man hands n' feet, her poor little dance partner Jonathan Roberts looks like he's dancing with a crazed kangaroo. Or horse. Or whatever animal you can think of that's untrainable, clumsy and prone to rage.
I voted for her 8 times.
She's the hands-down funniest dancer I've ever seen.
She makes Penn Gillette look like Fred Astaire. She makes Cloris Leachman look like Ginger Rogers.
She takes one good step, surprises herself, then gets thrown off the beat for the rest of the song.
When she extends her arms, she does it with such force she could cold-cock her poor little partner if he got in the way.
The judges were so shocked with her Viennese waltz, they pulled their punches and ducked just in case she got angry and flipped out on them.
I love her quirky mezzo soprano voice and even her shitty attitude, but damn, she's a Clydesdale on the dance floor.
I know it's mean to laugh at someone as lousy a dancer as she, but I just can't help it. She is to dancing what William Shatner is to singing "Rocket Man."
You gotta see her. Unbelievable!

Make It Stop!



Attn: All Facebook Friends

Thank you for all the swell wall scribbles, winks, pokes, nods, burps, bumps, nuzzles, beers, fuzzy dice, hilarious wind-up dentures, assorted polls and Mafia game invitations, but no thanks.
I know, I know, Facebook is addictive. It's fun, you say!
Problem is, I don't get it.
I don't want to get it.
I don't trust it. It makes me nervous.
Just like I don't Tweet, use MySpace, LinkdIn, E-Me or indulge in anything online except blogging and e-mail.
I do appreciate all the cyber-crap you send me, but it's okay to stop now.
I have nothing against others belonging to every social network ever devised, it's just not my thing.
Don't take it personally, it's not you, it's me.
If you ever need to talk, I'll be here.
Just don't look for me there.
Oh, I might pop in when you least expect it, but trust me, I won't know how I got there or how to get back there again.
But thanks for all the swag, and let's remember the good times.
Really, it's not you, it's me.

Save Yourself the MSNBC Aggravation Tonight
Watch Dancing With the Felons

Today at KarenZipdrive's Food



click link to the right

Turns Out I Kind of Like This Kid



If appearing as Kathy Griffin's date at some awards show wasn't enough to make me like Levi Johnston, his first-person account of life with the Palins in the October issue of Vanity Fair won me over.
The kid's 19, and what small town boy that age wouldn't want to glom on to the sudden perks of being plunged into the national spotlight, just because he knocked up an ex governor's daughter?
In the Vanity Fair piece, he didn't make outlandish claims about Sarah Palin or her family, he just made some casual observations that, perhaps inadvertently, exposed Sarah Palin as the phony piece of shit she is.
The sudden fame and perks of being selected as Grandpa McCain's running mate went to her head, is that so hard to believe?
She grew to love the free clothes, fancy hotels and room service as much as she loved the blind adoration of crowds even less sophisticated than she.
She returned to Alaska from the lower 48, crestfallen over McCain's loss.
She missed the perks, the big city lights, the media coverage and the attention.
How hard is it to believe she found returning to the drab governorship of America's equivalent of Siberia a dreadful denouement?
Levi Johnston is no idiot and he harbors no illusions of being extraordinary.
He simply sees himself in the enviable position of being a hot flavor of the month, and he wants to ride the tide as long as he can make it last.
Modeling? Sure, he's attractive enough--if you like that type.
A reality show? Why not, it's not like they require dignity or anything.
Acting? If Eric Estrada and Keanu Reeves were good enough for Hollywood...
What impressed me most about this kid was when he said he never wants to be a deadbeat father, and if pimping himself for big bucks helps him provide better for his kid, then who am I to fault him?
I really don't mind anyone as long as they aren't hypocrites or phonies like Sarah Palin.
Had she presented herself as just a small town girl without all the phony Christian ideals, fake family values and the obvious addiction to fame and glory, I might have even ended up liking her.
When Levi Johnston's name first hit the public, I lined up behind all the other gleeful lefties to point out his obvious shortcomings. He was young, dumb and full o' cum. He liked to shoot things, he was a self-professed redneck and bragged that he'd fuck you up if you crossed him.
But now that I see he's still the same guy and neither apologizes for it nor tries to pretend he's suddenly someone else, I can respect that.
Sarah Palin could have learned something from observing this kid's accurate and enduring self concept.
He has something she'll never have. He's for real.

Oh, Goodie.



In a straw poll yesterday at the Values Voters Summit, Mike Huckabee won 29 percent of the vote as their most preferred Republican candidate for president in 2014.
Huckabee, who promised a squirrel in every pot, also promises plenty of religiosity, courtesy of his Southern Baptist minister training.
You see, folks, the Republican party is now all about the Deep South and their creepy, racist, Christian fundamentalist world view.

Get a load of yesterday's conference break-out meetings for Value Voters:
-Global Warming Hysteria: The New Face of the "Pro-Death Agenda"
-Obamacare: Rationing Your Life Away
-Activism and Conservatism: Fit to a (Tea) Party
-Thugocracy: Fighting the Vast Left-Wing Conspiracy

Yep, this shit was the popular subject matter for the tighty righties.
Never mind putting an end to war, finding health care solutions for all Americans, improving educational standards or balancing the budget, the Party of No just wants to bitch about conspiracies and plan attacks against issues they are too ignorant to understand, and too incurious to learn about.

Whew, I was hoping a group like this wouldn't endorse Mitt Romney and his magic underwear. He actually looks like the kind of bland white dude these hicks could envision as a leader.
But nope, they want the fat Southern preacher with squirrel breath and a wife who rivals Barbara Bush in the style department.
Let's forget all about reviving Camelot, with an attractive young president and an adorable family.
With Huckabee, we'll get HeeHaw and all the fixins'.
Where do I send my campaign contribution? I have a whole shoebox filled with Confederate money I want to send the huckster.

Day Six.

Day Five: Still Alive



Hmm. Yesterday my inner bitch got out and really jarred my equilibrium. People who knew I had quit smoking were dodging me, and those who didn't regretted contacting me, I'm sure.
One such person was my friend DJ Jackie.
She called with her usual stream of consciousness chatter, bitching about a carload of Indians (India Indians) who rammed into her brand new car and injured her. Once I ascertained that she was okay, I told her I was too panicky to talk on the phone. She kept talking, so I told her I had diarrhea and had to go!
Today is a new day.
I feel tamer and more resigned to my fate as a non-smoker.
My day-old haircut looks like I accidentally put my head into a thresher. It'll take about 4 tablespoons of product to coax it into submission.
Swell, food tastes better already. It tasted pretty good before, so I gotta watch what I eat, big time.
I'm going to try not to be a bitch today.
I'll let you know how that turns out.

GET UP AND DANCE YOU LAZY NON-SMOKING MOFO's

Yes, I Stopped Smoking, You Fuckin' Fuck, and Cher Wants You to Piss Off.



Hoo boy.
Days one thru three without cigarettes just left me weak and shaky, but I woke up this morning grouchy, mean and ready (as I told my pal Helen Wheels) to go look in the street gutters for old butts to smoke.
By noon I was gnawing my way through a huge ham and Swiss sandwich and wondering what my snack would be an hour later, and I snapped.
I finally got around to loading my new iPod, which is actually an old iPod I traded my lover-in-law for my new iTouch which was always too fucking complicated for me.
Remember when I first got the iTouch and some anonymous commenter said something snippy about my inability to deal with all the doodads on it? Yeah, well, fuck you, I was right.
So I got the new-old one loaded and discovered I had no earbuds.
I tried to lie down but I was fitful, got up, ate a handful of trail mix, tried to Blog, chewed two pieces of Nicorette (park and rest, my ass)then I bolted out of my chair and knew I had to leave the house immediately.
Since my hair had gotten really really bushy and long, I thought I'd go get it cut. My regular homosexual Ruben was off today, so I picked his pal Mike instead. Mike is a smart-ass queen who listened to what I wanted, then told me, "Fine, but I'll cut it any fucking way I want."
I said, "That's fine, but if you fuck it up you'll be dealing with a dyke who just stopped smoking and I'll cut a bitch."
So he says, "I still smoke and you make me want to light one now."
After bickering for another few minutes while he was snipping away, he puts his shears down and says, "What do you think?"
So I put on my glasses, looked in the mirror and said, "Oh, thank you for making me look like the lead bull dagger in a lesbian prison movie, you woman-hating fudge packer."
He looked a little surprised, so I said, "Look, Whitney, I told you I was self employed and I cannot get fired, so how about letting my fuckin' freak flag fly a little?"
He got it, finally, and I left with quite the mess of spikes, gashes and sprigs.
So I came home, still inconsolable, but I did have a brand new set of earbuds to try out.
So I laid in my little bed and start blasting my playlist, which consists mainly of music you might find at any mid-80's gay bar.
In spite of my grotesque withdrawal symptoms and general feelings of hopelessness, that goddamn Cher and her song "Believe" made me start tapping my foot. Then I got up and started moving just a little. Then I stuffed the iPod into my jeans pocket, moved to the living room and actually started dancing.
Before I knew it, I actually had enough energy to drag myself to the computer and Blog.
The only trouble with dancing to gay bar music is wanting a drink and a cigarette afterwards. And so it goes.

Day Two



I chilled the house down to about 68 last night so I'd sleep very snug under a down comforter. And I did.
This morning started out fine. Coffee and an English muffin. No cigs.
Reading e-mail. Reading blogs. No cigs.
Now it's a little after 11 and...well, every picture tells a story, don't it?
Gotta go move around. I am as twitchy as a horse.

Today's the Day



Today is Big Sis's birthday and the day I quit smoking.
She promised me a trip to Paris next year if I quit, so I can think of no better incentive than that.
Oh sure, there are health issues that smoking makes worse and should cause a person to want to quit, but Paris, damn!
So far it's not so bad. I'm wearing a nicotine patch and I took half a Valium I'd been saving for an emergency.
I'll probably sleep a lot and isolate for a while, and try not to eat everything in the kitchen.
Years ago I had this friend who was a top level executive for AT&T. She was a chain smoker and decided to quit. She found herself craving smoke so much, she decided to start smoking dope as a substitute. After about two weeks of smoking six joints a day, she was mush-brained and too laid back to be a good executive.
I think I'll skip that option.
If anyone who reads this has quit, please give me tips, besides the patch and a prescription for Valium.
Wish me luck, kiddos.

She Dumped Her??



Jodie Foster has been dumped by her talentless new girlfriend, Cindy Mort.

Cindy Mort apparently left the double Oscar winner and walked out of the couple’s LA home following a series of heated rows - and reignited her romance with her ex-girlfriend Amanda Demme.
Mort had left her former lover to be with Jodie Foster.
Jodie left her relationship with Cydney Bernard after 15 years to be with the talentless hack.
Jodie, I have a shoulder for you to cry on if you need one, poor dear.

I'm So Sorry, New York



In 2001, I was involved in a long distance relationship with a woman who lived Montreal.
She called me early that morning and told me to turn on the television.
As we spoke, I was looking at the AOL welcome screen and saw a photo of both towers on fire. I thought it was a movie still.
Then I turned on the news.
As the towers began to crumble, the Pentagon got hit.
Another commercial airliner crashed to the ground in Pennsylvania.
Now 8 years later and we've still not caught the mastermind, Saudi Arabian-born Osama bin Laden.
Bush chose instead to commit our troops and our treasure to a wild goose chase in Iraq, going after the Saudi king's enemy, Saddam Hussein.
More people have died in that senseless war than all the 9/11 victims.
Eight years later and President Obama has shifted the war to Afghanistan, where we should have stayed and finished the job eight years ago.
We can't keep fighting a 21st century war against a 13th century region.
The time to catch bin Laden has passed; it should have been accomplished seven years ago. It's just not worth the lives of hundreds of more American military souls.
We need to get our troops and money out of the Middle East now.

Another Winner From Lousyanna



From the bowels of the Louisiana Republican party, the Congress Representative chosen to rebut Obama's health care speech was Charles Bustany, a cardiologist birther who's been sued more than once for medical malpractice.
He also got swindled not long ago by some British scam artists from whom he was trying to purchase a royal title.
Clearly, Lord Bustany didn't bother to listen to Obama's powerful speech prior to cobbling together the GOP's greatest hits on health care reform disinformation.
One might think after Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal's abysmal flop at rebutting Obama's first major speech as president, the GOP would say ixnay to further bumbling Louisiana politicians.
But Jindal is a harmless dweeb compared to this phony slimeball.
Seriously, I'm starting to think the GOP is trying to fuck themselves.

P.S. Did anyone hear that Republican clown Joe Wilson from South Carolina yell that Obama was "a liar" in the middle of the president's speech?
What an uncouth, ignorant cracker.
Southern Republicans are running the GOP bus over a cliff, and unless the more moderate GOP members start shutting them up, the GOP will be the permanent party of ignorant, guttersniping Southern racist hayseeds who'd screw their own mothers to get elected (or reelected).
It was truly appalling.

Farewell, Damn It.



Possibly my all-time favorite blogger, Princess Sparkle Pony*, has gone out of business.
When Big Sis, a frequent Pulp Friction commenter and my actual big sister, first learned of PSP's brilliant blog, she uncharacteristically spent tons of consecutive hours reading PSP from beginning to end.
She'd call me repeatedly from Austin, laughing hysterically at one entry or another.
PSP for me was a daily essential. My ritual was to make coffee, boot up and head straight to read PSP.
From watching Condaleezza Rice's hair-dos, to turning us all on to Austria's glorious Ursula Plassnik, to ripping idiot politicians and media humps to shreds, PSP made even the worst news a little sunnier and a whole lot funnier.
She turned GOP Chair Michael Steele into a Boston Terrier. She tortured Sarah Palin.
She had fashion tips, religious quips and artsy Photoshopped pics.
She could be bitchy, even to her loyal cadre of commenters.
Do not report the verification word, thinking it's funny, she warned.
Do not add links or otherwise try to scoop her.
Do not try to out-funny her, even though that would be impossible.
I met a lot of my best bloggy pals through her comments box. My dear D-Cap, FranIAm, Matty Boy and others' blogs became links on my blog.
When she quit, I wrote to her creator Petey and asked what had happened. I fretted that he was not okay. He replied that he was okay. Undaunted, I wrote again and suggested he rest up and return another day. No, he said firmly.
Well, that's just not good enough.
PSP is so much better than Sarah Palin, and the word quitter should not be an adjective they share.
The only way I will accept his resignation is if he's got a book contract to publish the entire blog, from beginning to end. I'd buy that book.
Petey's got too much talent to take it away from us.
The world lost Princess Diana, now this shit.
The terrorists have won.


*PSP is listed to the right on my blogroll

Al Franken's Cool Party Trick

A Message to School Children From the President of the United States
(according to the right)



Good morning, all black children and to you lesser white devils too,

I'm speaking to you today to remind you that if your mommy and daddy are Republicans, they are idiots and you should run away from home and live in an orphanage. It'll be a lot more fun than living with morons.
For you black kids, from now on you get free ice cream any time you want.
You Latino kids get free tacos whenever you want, too.
Asian kids get free electronic toys whenever they want.
You white devils get nothing.
If you want treats, ask George Bush for them.
You black kids and your pals who are not white, stay in school, get good grades and get free scholarships for any college you want.
You white kids, go ahead and drop out. You can set up meth labs when you grow up and make money that way.
All you kids, I want you to tell your parents to bug their lawmakers to vote for the health care giveaways. If they refuse, tear up the house, break things and knock your heads against a wall until they have to take you to the emergency room.
And all you kids, if you hear your parents saying bad things about me or any Democrats, call 1-800-ASS-KICK and we'll be sure they get punished.
And teachers, from now on I want you to start teaching history focused on Martin Luther King, Jr., George Washington Carver, Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, Dred Scott, Harriet Tubman and Rosa Parks.
If you don't, you'll get fired and your jobs will be given to African Americans.
And religion may not be mentioned in class.
American school children need to learn that Communism is the right way to go, and that starts by taking God away from gullible kids and their stupid parents.
Furthermore, instead of kids saying the Pledge of Allegiance every morning, from now on they'll be reading from Chairman Mao's little red book, followed by gangsta rap music chosen by the White House.

Peace out, kids. Now, you little motherfuckas get your asses to work!

Freedom of Speech: Only for the Right?



My big brother Billy is a small town Texas guy; some might even call him a good old boy. Unlike 90 percent of the men in the area where he lives, he's a laid back Democrat who believes in live and let live.
Recently, Billy had to drive into Marble Falls to buy something at Walmart. He couldn't find a clean T-shirt to wear, so he fished around in his drawer and found one with Che Guevara on the front of it.
Once he got to Walmart, he observed a tall guy glaring at his shirt. As he made his way through the aisles, the guy would appear again, still staring.
They both checked out at the same time, and as they wheeled their carts to their vehicles, the guy spoke to Billy.
"Is that Che Guevara on your shirt?"
"Yep, he's one of my heroes," my brother replied.
"Yeah, well, he sure looked good as the receptacle for a bullet in his head."
Billy replied, "I could say the same for Bush."
Then my brother scampered to get in his truck, lest the redneck try to kick his ass.
There was a time in America when people could express themselves any way they wanted without risking a threat to their physical safety.
Even in Texas, we could be assured that rednecks might say shitty things to us, but they'd never do anything beyond that.
Now, we on the left have to really consider our safety when we express ourselves.
I frequently drive the IH-35 corridor between San Antonio and Austin. I have an Obama-Biden sticker on my back window.
More than once I've been passed by a redneck in a truck, mouthing the hateful phrase, "nigger lover" and shooting the finger as he sped past.
Obama is set to speak to American school children next Tuesday, giving them a pep talk about getting good grades, etc.
Several parents across America have complained, saying his address was 'too political' and should not be allowed in schools.
Political? Really?
This national unrest reminds me of the late 60's, when the lefties were making all the noise.
We ended the war, legalized freedom of choice and made strides in civil rights and women's rights.
We did it then, and we can do it again. Are you ready?

Simpson's Defense Team Inspired Republicans









As a tribute to the late Dominick Dunne, I've been rereading his excellent novel/memoir about his time covering the O.J. Simpson trial, called, "Another City, Not My Own."
Having watched the Simpson criminal and civil trials from gavel to gavel, I found Dunne the one reporter whose views were closest to mine. In fact, I never disagreed with any of his statements.

In rereading the book, all the dormant anger and resentment I felt toward the smarmy defense team came back to life.
And it dawned on me, today's Republican party consists of hoards of politicians with the same slimy style and lack of scruples as Team O.J..

With this health care legislation, they have lied, cajoled and manipulated the facts, and recited them with such brutal repetition, they remind me exactly of the Simpson defense team.

Emboldened by excessive media coverage, it seems the Republicans are trying to out crazy each other. They're stirring up the ignorant masses and they don't consider the consequences. They speak of the Second Amendment as if it's Biblical; they encourage their constituency to openly pack heat, disrupt town hall meetings, depict Obama as a devil, a foreigner, Islamic...you know the drill, anything goes.

Bottom line, Republican politicians consider their Democratic colleagues enemies, not only enemies, but evil, racist, Socialists, Communists, Marxists, and the piece de resistance, Nazis.

Emboldened by excessive media coverage, the Simpson defense team also amped up the drama as the case neared its end.
Who can forget Johnny Cochran wearing the blue wool cap? Or Barry Scheck torturing Dennis Fung? Or F. Lee Bailey using the word "nigger" a dozen times when he had Mark Fuhrman on the stand, to the point where most of the jurors were ready to attack. Remember the glove? How about Cochran rapping to the jury:
"If the glove don't fit
you must acquit
If you think he did it
You don't know shit"

No wonder I'm always angry about politics--this is the goddamn Simpson trial all over again. And Obama is acting like Christopher Darden.