There’s this guy who I blog dick (the practice of cutting to the head of the line by commenting on the first comment and then leaving my banner/link), that I pick on a little. I don’t take him too seriously but I like to piss him off whenever I can.

He’s written something today that pissed me off for it’s level of douchebaggery.

So, if you want to see who I’m writing to and exactly what he said in his blog “Who vetted Obama?”, you’ll need to go here:
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=132557808&blogID=430526492&Mytoken=E027339C-F95B-43EA-B0F81E678E0F3225100679766

Here’s what I wrote in response:

Lazy? Dumbya has spent a third of his Presidency on vacation, more than any President in history. McCain makes one campaign stop a day, Obama makes at least four.

I’ve got news for you. The American people vetted Obama.

The rain falls on the just and the unjust alike.

Despite what I may have said to you before, I doubt you’re an idiot. You seem like a reasonably smart guy. So you really um, you buy this shit?

You think Our Man has gotten a free ride? Are you outta your goddamn mind? You reference Jeremiah Wright. The media took it upon itself to beat Obama about the head and shoulders for weeks over it. It was brutal, exhaustive and plenty damaging. I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t find fault with much if anything the guy had to say.

Allow me to point out something else equally as obvious. No such thing as bad publicity. Particularly for a newbie like What’s Her Name. The attention such an incredibly dubious and irresponsible pick for VP has generated is electrifying your easily suckered base. You should be thrilled. Are you too stupid to understand this?

By the way, Obama himself declared Palin’s family and that of anyone else off limits. Beyond that, he will not even discuss it. Even Michael Moore agrees.

Another by the way, Sarah Palin made the anouncement to the media about her daughter’s pregnancy. She announced it you fool. By accepting the job and announcing her daughter’s pregnancy to the press, Sarah Palin is the one responsible for shining the light here.

One more by the way, he admitted his drug use, early and often and was skewered by the media for it. What more do you want?

They will not allow her to be interviewed by anyone but teenage slow pitch Bobby Sox pitchers, however. Trust me. They’ll keep her far from legitimate questions.

You won’t see pictures of her from the side because she’s two dimensional and disappears at 90 degrees off axis. They will feed her words and she will vomit them. She’s proven to be adept in that area. Joe Biden is more than likely to crap on her lunch in the debate, however.

No matter what, he’ll leave a stain. I’m betting on her forehead.

I don’t give a mad fuck what the mainstream media says or does because that’s not who I rely on for the truth. You shouldn’t either. I’d assumed a man of your age and experience would already be cognizant.

Your man McCain has a history as long as Obama’s time on this planet of unsavory characters. Charles Keating *ahem*. The ties you attribute to Obama, specifically Rezko, Wright and Ayers are scurrilous and weak. Bullshit mainstream media talking points.

It’s kinda like you get your information from FOX but choose to whine about MSNBC or CNN.

I hate, hate, hate when you people attempt to reduce things into terms like “baggage handlers”. You think a man who ran The Harvard Law Review couldn’t get a job as a baggage handler? And aren’t you insulting them at the same time?

I’ll stop short of calling you an asshole but I think you just might be.

That brings us to the fact that McCain has been a mainstream media “maverick” darling for the last decade. Are you unaware of this or just willfully ignorant? I mean, please. The man has enjoyed the spotlight since Dumbya handed him his ass but withheld his pride in 2000.

Poor John the war hero. Just like Max Cleland. I just puked in my mouth a little.

Mr. Cleland (D) slaps a hand against his torso because it’s attached to the only limb he has left. The rest of him is in Vietnam. He lost his Senate seat to a moron named Saxby Chambliss (R). Saxby ran ads that pictured Max with Osama and Hussein. Dirtiest campaign on the planet. You’re own man McCain said “[I]t’s worse than disgraceful, it’s reprehensible;”

Rove and the rest of them now working for McCain despite destroying him in the same way in the same year.

You lose. This is the weakest and emptiest blog you’ve written in awhile.

This kind of crap serves no one but you.

Good luck with that.

Drinks for my friends.

First up, Cindy Stepford McCain. Oh boy. Can’t wait.

Out she comes with the whole dam fam minus the Bootlicker and introduces them before dismissing them. She goes to Gustav victims. She speaks like she’s on something. She’s an empty vessel. Maybe her batteries are low. I wonder what she looks like without her face plate.

“If only the Federal Government would get itself under control and out of our way”. She’s boring. Cut to What’s Her Name telling her daughter to “smile for me”.

Sappy, predictable and obvious. Offered in dulcet tones of halcyon. She comes from the house that Anheuser built. She steals mustard packets from fast food restaurants. She always has kleenex on her somewhere.

She manages to highlight the profound lack of substance in every speech thus far at this convention, in stark contrast to the style AND subtance served up by the Democrats last week. No mention of the beleaguered middle class, the suffering poor, health care et al, nor a whiff of what they intend to do about any of it.

Doubtfire is next. I’m looking for policy, metrics, specifics……….

I’m not holding my breath. That’s not to say I’m not touching myself. It’s purely platonic. Intellectual. You know what I mean.

The video introduction is heavy on the POW thing. Ok, I fucking get it. Enough. Oh yeah, and he’s a maverick. Lotsa black folks in the video. Whatever. Talk about a desperate whore for a brand.

He ambles geriatric to the dais. The knot in his tie is mediocre and the garment itself is yellow. Cut to a sign that says you can’t win an occupation. Another cut to a sign that says McCain votes against vets. Chants of USA. He actually mentions Dumbya for keeping us safe or something; offering us proof that although his phallus is withered and dry, his balls touch the water in the bowl.

So far it’s all fluff. He goes on and on. Family, yadda, yadda yadda yadda. He tells us he won’t let us down and he’ll earn our trust. Some grace when talking about Our Man. A little humility even.

Tumescence anyone?

Prosperity and peace is the message as dissenters are manhandled out of the venue. He calls it “ground noise and static” and they laugh. He’s going to stand on our side and fight for our future and he’s found the right patrner to do so. He proceeds to lie shamelessly about her. He’s creepy when he forces a smile after making it a point to lie.

Change is coming he tells us.

Time for a smoke.

He’s gonna veto pork barrel spending. I guess that’s how intends to solve our economic woes. Republicans are astonishingly anti-union.

And then,”rather lose an election than a war”. Fuck me. I’m shirtless so I haven’t ruined my pinko liberal blouse. The communist in me smiles and heads to the bathroom to wash up.

He fights for us he says. He’s nearly as dull as his wife. We’re going to get back to basics. We’re all God’s children and we’re all Americans. A culture of life. As opposed to what? Judges who don’t legislate from the bench. Families and communities. A government that doesn’t make your choices for you.

Uh huh.

Lies about Democrats and taxes. Democrats will close markets. His tax cuts will create jobs. I assume he’s talking about the Bush tax cuts. Good luck with that one Doubtfire. More lies about taxes and healthcare. They eat it up. A bureaucrat will stand between you and your healthcare. Um, ok. That’s different from now how?

Oh, how the great unwashed covet and then adore to feast on the lies.

He offers a follicle of policy without specificity. We’re on to education. His answer is a choice for parents as to where they send their children to school. Good luck with that John. Don’t try to fix it, walk away. Privatize it. That’s breathtakingly stupid in light of the egregious impact deregulation and privatization has visited upon the struggling and downtrodden.

You know, your base, fuckhead?

Good show Bootlicker.

He’s gonna battle big oil. Is that despite the money he takes from them? Drill baby, drill. Again, a modicum of policy in the broadest and most ambiguous of terms.

Terror, terror, terror. Russia and more Russia. International lawlessness. Ha! He knows how the world works. He knows how to secure the peace. He hates war. Good to know.

Vietnam.

Time for a smoke. And a cocktail refresh.

I’m getting sleepy. More POW stuff. War stories. Again, respect an admiration but enough is enough. It’s not a qualification for President. I’m sorry, it’s just not. It’s a courageous story. He may be a better man than me or possibly you, but in light of all else that is requisite, it’s simply not enough.

It makes him suspect.

The camera finds a sign with the word maverick spelled wrong.

He wraps it up with some sentimental euphoria, the balloons and confetti drop and the families take the stage and they play Barracuda by Heart. Wonder how Anne and Nancy feel about that.

Who cares. I give him a D minus. He barely passed. I am not impressed.

At least What’s Her Name was entertaining.

“Don’t let your sly eye ricochet off the silver in a hobo’s pocket”. -Colbert

Drinks for my friends.

Official brainspank forecast. It’s round two and these bastards have lots to do. What’s Her Name will either do a face plant or impress with a fine batting exhibition.

Gonna go blow by blow again.

Put your tray tables in the upright…………

Guy Smiley (Romney) is up. Lame start. So far no magic in the underwear. Tries to say Washington is liberal with a handful of ridiculous points. He says we need to change Washington from liberal to conservative. It is one of the emptiest, factually challenged speeches I’ve ever heard. He actually said, “opportunity expands……when constitutional freedoms are preserved”. He actually said, “It’s time for the party of big ideas, not the party of big brother”. What the fuck?

Non-co2 producing nuclear energy? Huh?

Republicans believe there is good and evil? Good for them.

More bullshit terror rhetoric. Chants of USA.

Guy Smiley never had a day when he wasn’t proud to be an American. Lord knows I have. I’ve been straight up embarrassed to be an American. Republicans are nothing if not vainglorious.

Romney is exactly a twat.

Next up Huckabee. He’s a crazy bastard but I kinda like him. He says the elite media has unified the Republican party because of their tacky coverage. Does anyone not remember the darling status afforded by the media that McCain has enjoyed for like, ever?

Then he has the balls to make change the mantra of his speech. Now he’s off after less government. Now bloviating about taxes and abortion. Republicans never met a cliche they didn’t like. More POW crap. Praise for the veterans because we all know how Democrats loathe the veterans.

I love how they all rail against big government. The United States Government has never been bigger or more inept. Not a single mention thus far, tonight or last night, of Dumbya. Hmmmmm…………. methinks they doth protest too much.

Less empty seats tonight.

Fuck me, Skeletor (Guiliani) is up next. I’m sort of looking forward to him telling some real whoppers.

Here he comes and unfortunately, he’s not in drag.

He has no lips. He says Hollywood celebrities don’t get to decide. Um, ok. Experience. Ha! McCain is a hero. Sacrifice. P.O.W…..blah, blah, blah.

Makes fun of Our Man’s service as a community organizer. Instead of taking the big bucks? Tries to to say Our Man is somehow indecisive, because of his “present” votes. Realistically, not a bad point.

Calls him a celebrity Senator, without leadership or legislation to speak of. So, Sarah has authored copious tracts of legislation has she? Disingenuous at best. Experience……..blah, blah, blah. Change. Taxes, smaller government, more energy independence accompanied by chants of ‘drill, baby, drill’. Retards.

Terrorism. Sept 11, right on cue. Troop surge. Tries to accuse Our Man of being a flip flopper. Huh. As opposed to Doubtfire? Does he really believe this shit? The mayor of New York City touts the service of Palin as mayor of whatever that jerkwater town is. That’s rich. Think if she wasn’t the presumptive VP, Skeletor would even tolerate her as a stain on his shoe?

Forgive me, but Rudy Guiliani is completely full of shit. He has no lips and is overly fond of dressing like a woman.

Here comes what’s her name. Didn’t even have time for a smoke. She is kinda hot. I like chicks in glasses. Standing O.

She’s poised but if I hear the line about losing an election instead of losing a war one more time, vomit will spray from my nose all over my liberal pinko blouse.

Her son is going to Iraq. Predictable praise for the troops. The daughters, Bristol won’t stand because she’s pregnant, seventeen and her boobs are huge. Then we see Trig (sp?). She kinda milks her family. Pun intended. I guess she’s obligated. Todd (husband) hands Trig (sp?) off so he can stand. The parents stand and they look kinda hip.

Seems like a nice family.

She’s a good speaker. Bristol stands. She’s big. Her mom’s hot. Did I say that or think it? The difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull? Lipstick. Not bad.

She does well and goes right after Our Man, they armed her well. She chumps the media. This move always cracks me up but her delivery is spot on.

Michel Martin (NPR) said we underestimate this woman at our peril. Republicans are not smarter than I think, but this woman just may be. She’s good.

She does lie large about the bridge to nowhere.

She lies about her pipeline which goes through Canada.

She does a little foreign policy dance that is over most of their heads. They have no idea what she’s talking about. Stupid white people.

She goes populist, and swings hard. She is the most effective by far produced by her party as a spoiler of Our Man.

Quick to boilerplate and still a marksman. Standard lies and out of context exaggerations. Whatever.

Vicious, aggressive and a goddamn surgical striker. She’s smooth and she’s mean.

She mocks Our Man but pulls it off.

Way too much POW poetry. This is the kind of talk McCain used to shy away from. He avoided it. He shunned it. Now he embraces it and pontificates at length. Ain’t no shame in his game.

She goes long but she never loses them. She’s blown every other speaker off the stage.

And then Doubtfire testifies. Big suprise.

The Republicans have acquitted themselves with an adroit and accurate fist. Gotta say. Well done.

Now, not to drop a steamer in the punch bowl, but kids, try to remember you’re voting for the top of the ticket. No matter what, you’ll be stuck with Doubtfire.

I need to make a point here. In the simplest of terms, people aren’t worth a shit until they’ve had their asses kicked. I don’t trust people who I know, or even sense, have not at least endured some degree of adversity. Myself, I’ve seen some shit, but I doubt it’s enough. I suspect the worst is still on it’s way.

It’s simple really. I don’t see Sarah Palin as someone who’s had her ass handed to her. There’s a certain quality of humility missing. That kind of humility is evident in a dramatic and simultaneously subtle way in Barack Obama.

Sarah Palin is an actress.

Drinks for my friends.

It is wholly appropriate for the velocity of the RNC to be so compromised by a hurricane falling to land on the Gulf Coast almost three years to the day after a hurricane named Katrina did the same. The response, to that storm, which Republicans fucked up so badly, it’s become a stain on the party and an avatar of of their compassionless failure and clueless ineptitude.

They didn’t even know how bad they’d screwed it up until it was almost over. By then, they didn’t care.

“The Republicans can’t seem to get a break when it comes to August and when it comes to the weather,” Karl Rove, -TPM

How convenient it morphed into a reason for preventing Dumbya and Darth from bearing witness; pariahs both in their own party. A little gift from Mother Nature to the Republicans. They clearly weren’t looking forward to that kind of steerage. Nevermind the cartage.

Laura Bush gets up and kicks it off by touting the unfunded mandate we know as “No Child Left Behind”. She says that apparently some fifty million people now live in freedom in Iraq and Afghanistan. Sheezus. First huge lie.

Still, I kinda like her. She has an absent minded dignity that’s a little infectious.

I only say that because somewhere, I have sympathy for her.

Next, we get Dumbya on the satellite. More POW bullshit. Standard bogus boiler plate lies. Empty words from an empty suit. Requisite references to 911. Yawn. I’m reminded for the millionth time that his eyes are too close together.

Thankfully, both speeches are brief.

Lotsa empty seats.

Well then, it’s the obligatory tribute to Reagan. A man who became the catalyst for the devastation of America’s middle class. A man who brought Russia to her knees by outspending them at the expense of America’s workers and the enrichment of the military industrial complex and therefore, the wealthiest among us. Trickle down economics my ass.

Reagan sucked. Why do Republicans insist on being so gay for him?

Fred Thompson’s speech blows. Sarah Palin. What a joke. He tells us the choice for her as VP has panicked the Democrats. Good luck with that. It does crack us up. What a tool. He touts her ability to “field dress a moose”. Do I need to highlight the obtuseness of that? I hope not.

We hear more about Doubtfire’s time in Vietnam. I respect his service and his sacrifice, but that’s where it ends with me. I’m impressed. But that’s it. He gives credit to Republicans for balancing the budget and rebuilding the military. Good luck with that too. He’s lying. The second huge lie. I think that was a guy named William Jefferson C.

John McCain will not feel the need to apologize for America. Arrogance. Then, what has become beyond trite and cliche, the tax scare and abortion. Republicans are still that stupid. Fred Thompson is that stupid.

What’s up with all the empty seats?

All the crowd can manage to chant is USA. They can’t seem to wrap a rythm around two syllables or four.

I guess Benedict Fliptop (Lieberman) is up next. Oh boy. I really hate this guy.

He goes to the economy and terrorism right away. He takes a swing at unity. The camera pans to Gingrich a handful of times. Curious. The camera finds a Black guy standing and clapping. Bonus.

Colbert would demand an Asian.

Lieberman tells us he’s a Democrat. Bullshit, He’s an Independent. Democrats abandonded him because he’s an idiot. Whatever. His speech is completely empty. No substance. I see a Democrats for McCain sign but ‘Democrats’ is spelled wrong. Take what you will from that.

I must tell you that although I’m an aspiring pacifist, I fantasize about punching Benedict Fliptop in the mouth. Hard. A haymaker. What a douchebag. The only reason he’s there is because he wants war to continue, he wants it to grow. All I see is a man who cares far more about Israel than he does America. I loathe him.

They have nothing. The Repubilcans have shown up to a firefight with those cool Star Trek toy guns that shot little plastic discs. Remember those? If not, please substitute squirt guns in your mind’s eye.

What we have here, is a failure to communicate.

There’s some post convention interviews on the floor as I leave CNN’s coverage. A group of delegates from Texas all dressed in matching outfits. They say they are proud of Dumbya for what he’s done for pro life issues and faith based institutions. They say it was painful to applaud to applaud Bill Clinton.

Forgive me here, but you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. All that goes on in the world every goddamn day and that’s the top of their goddamn list?

By the way, Campbell Brown rocks. She pissed on Tucker Bounds’ lunch. She did it with restraint and discretion and still cleaned his clock because he was woefully unprepared. I guess it cost Larry King a McCain interview tomorrow night. What a pussy is Doubtfire.

The demonstrations and the arrests continue to gain mass and attention. This may end up being half the story.

Drinks for my friends.

09/01/08 7:01AM
Sarah Palin: Government Corruption Up Close & Personal
As more information comes to light about Sarah Palin — the “reformer” Governor who supposedly “took on corruption” in state government — a fascinating recording has surfaced of a phone call from Palin’s office in which direct pressure is brought to bear on the Police Department to fire State Trooper Mike Wooten.

By way of back-story, Wooten was married to Palin’s sister, and the couple went through an acrimonious divorce. Prior to Palin’s election as Governor, the Palin family presented a list of 14 accusations against Wooten to the Police Department (including using his patrol car to pick his kids up from school and illegally shooting a moose). The charges were investigated, and Wooten was given a 10-day suspension.

When Palin took office, she, her husband, and her staff began putting pressure on the Commissioner of the department, Walt Monegan, to fire Wooten. Dozens of communications were made to the Department by the Mayor’s staff. Monegan resisted the pressure and did not fire Wooten. Monegan was subsequently fired from his job as Police Commissioner.

When allegations were made that Monegan had been improperly terminated, Palin initially denied that she or her staff had put any pressure on Monegan. (She then changed her story once recordings surfaced showing members of her staff directly pressuring police officials to fire Wooten, at which point she claimed that the calls were unauthorized.)

Following is a link to a recording of a phone call between Frank Bailey (the Mayor’s Director of Boards & Commissions) and Lieutenant Rodney Dial of the Public Safety Department. Its fairly long, so readers might not want to listen to the whole thing (although if you have the time, its a fascinating case study in the slimy methods by which public officials exert pressure without actually saying anything incriminating).

Recording of Phone Call Between Frank Bailey and Rodney Dial

Excerpt: After a lengthy discussion of all of the reasons why Wooten should not be kept on as a trooper, Bailey (the Mayor’s Director) says to Dial (the police lieutenant), “Todd and Sarah [Palin] are scratching their heads, ‘Why on earth hasn’t this, why is this guy still representing the department?’ He’s a horrible recruiting tool, you know.” Dial assures Bailey that the department wants to do anything it can to keep the Mayor happy. Bailey’s response is an example of classic back-room political sleaze:

Dial: You know, its very important for us that the Governor have a good opinion and impression of the [police] department. I mean we care very deeply about what she thinks about the department. And, you know, I don’t want it to appear that we don’t.

Bailey: You know, you know I appreciate that so much, and I’m telling you, honestly I mean, she um, you know she really likes Walt [the Police Commissioner] a lot, but on this issue, she feels like its… she doesn’t know why there’s absolutely no action for a year on this issue. Um, its very, very troubling to her and her family. You know, I can definitely relay that. You know?

Dial: Well, um, please tell her that, you know, I certainly am concerned, and I will immediately get on the phone after we’re done and see if there’s something that the department does not know about this, um something more that can be done, maybe some additional information that you don’t have that I can pass on.

——–

Hmm, on second thought, maybe Palin actually does have all the “experience” she needs to be Vice President…

note from admin:
This is a guest blog that originally included a hyperlink. I’m a smartard so it was fifty fifty. Here’s a a cut & paste for ya.

I have two. I adore them. They are polar opposites.

I adore them. I just can’t help it.

A warehouse worker named Justin brought a girl kitten he’d named Cali to us one morning some ten years ago. An adorable little calico his own cat had birthed.

A recovering tweeker, Justin never had a shot at being anything but a knife with a dull blade, some rust, in an unpopular drawer. He believed KFC was selling cloned chickens. He believed homosexuality to be a sin despite never having seen the inside of a church. He ruined every CD I ever loaned him and refused all accountability in almost every situation.

He was hoping we’d take her as a warehouse cat. Rick and I love cats. No brainer.

I became Cali’s dad. I fed her, scooped and changed her litter and made sure she always had fresh food and water. I loved her, petted her and played with her for almost a decade.

Since then:

My girlfriend The Fish, moved into my Hollywood apartment. We got our own cat from an animal rescue.

The Bean. Tondaleo Bean The Negress. A shiny black little girl kitty with a head way too big. Early photos are evidence she was in danger of tipping over. She was a delight. We loved her. She was willfull, spoiled and incredibly bright. In my dreams she spoke to me while she wore glasses. She didn’t like the vacuum cleaner and would try to pick a fight with it if we left it out. She would literally punch it. Certain closet doors had to remain open or she would throw a fit.

Her entire life she joined me in the bathroom every morning while I took my constitutional. Every morning I gave her the hard rub. I would lower my hand to arms length and scratch her head with considerable force she supplied. She would signal she was done with a quiet yelp and I would pick her up and kiss her head. After that I’d let her out, finish my business and get in the shower. Every morning until the day she died. She once woke The Fish after knocking a roll of toilet paper in the open toilet.

We moved to the Valley and got another one. Hoover. Hoover Congolia The Simian. A cautious tabby with her own agenda. Very sweet and gentle. Hoover loved The Bean and it didn’t take her long to win her over. We were a happy family. Me, The Fish, Hoover and The Bean.

Hoover and The Bean waited every night at kitchen’s edge for a treat before I made my martini.

We got engaged. There was a gorgeous ring. We bought a big beautiful house in a bedroom community and got ourselves a boy. Havoc. Lawrence The Earl Of Havoc. A good boy. A sweet boy. Yet we named him Havoc for a reason.

“The naming of cats is a difficult matter. It isn’t just one of your holiday games. You may think at first I’m mad as a hatter, when I tell you a cat must have three different names.” -T.S. Eliot

I taught all three of them to fetch. They became experts, all three.

On December fourth, two thousand and four, The Fish found The Bean dead at the bottom of the stairs by the entrance to the laundry room. There was a small puddle of urine where her bladder had let go. I was devastated. She was already somewhat stiff when I lifted her to a box. Barely six years old. Her cremated remains are on top of my fridge to this day. She liked the top of the fridge. Her mission was to seek and then conquer the highest point in any room of the three places she lived. Upon achievement of her conquest, she indulged herself by standing proudly and staring down at anyone who happened to pass by.

She showed up on schedule the morning before her death for the hard rub and a kiss on the head.

I suppose I’m lucky to tell you that it was the saddest time of my life so far.

My life became flat. No real highs and most of it below the surface. There was no reason for her to leave, no reason for her to die. I’d invested my heart into this gorgeous animal. I loved her very much.

We moved the business to another warehouse that had been built out to our specifications. Cali had a new home. First thing every morning was to drop my stuff in my office and go looking for her. She’d call to me to let me know where she was.

Her name became Gurly Gurl, The Gurry and then The Swirly Gurl with a whistling ‘s’.

Time passed. Still I was sad. Everyday was a competition with melancholy.

Things seemed good. We gardened and landscaped and took out a home equity loan. I loved and fawned over the two cats we still had. It wasn’t the same. Neither was I.

More time passed.

We vacationed in the wine country and took a cruise.

Then, The Fish and I split up. We divided most everything and sold the house. We each rented apartments. I started therapy, went on Paxil and blood pressure medication following some debilitating panic attacks.

She took Hoover and Havoc, we weren’t interested in splitting them up and Hoover was her daughter.

I had a dream last night that Hoover had drowned and I could see her floating just below the surface. It killed me.

After eight years in two different warehouses, I brought The Swirly Girl home. She sits next to me, staring at me and frownng a little as I write this. She owns an excellent frown.

She is voluptuous and soft. Huge green eyes and a naked stare. Very funny when she wants to be. Comes to bed with me and positions herself within petting reach. Doesn’t like being kissed on the head but will tolerate it occasionally. Bails once I start to snore.

She’s gotten a little grumpy in middle age. I like to make fun of her when she gets that way. I like it when she hisses at me, that’s when I kiss her head. She has the best face on the planet.

I adore them.

Both.

There’s the little one too. Rick found a litter behind the warehouse, days old, put them in a box and brought them inside. I was crapping in the bathroom next door when I heard them yelling. Timmy washed them off in the sink and The Fish took them to the Vet.

She bottle fed them, massaged their naughty bits so they would poop and pee and basically did a wonderful thing. She kept one named spider, Rick took one named Sumo and I took the female, a runt named Beddy, short for Bedhead.

Gorgeous medium fur, shiny black. A long body and long legs but very petite. Her fur grows long between the pads on her feet. I’ve never seen that before.

She has a sharp angular head. Aerodynamically sound. The longest tail I’ve ever seen on a feline.

Half squirrel. She’s quite the athlete. From the bed to the top of a six foot bookcase, no sweat. From a granite counter to the top of a very expensive and smoothly finished speaker three feet away. She does it by hopping and there’s not a scratch on that speaker.

I’ve had her over a year. She’s tiny. Hysterically funny. If she’s not trotting with urgency she’s strutting with a brusque demeanor. I’ve taught her to yell at me in the kitchen for a treat. She’s gotta speak up or try again later. She talks a lot. I like that.

When she wants my attention, she hits me in the back with her two front feet. Then she jumps on my shoulders or she yells at me.

They get along. Swirly would make short work of her otherwise. She is twice her size. They are not the friends I’d hoped they would be however. They don’t seem to mind.

My reward as I climb into bed is an elongated stain that is both clumpy and wet. My left ankle sends me messages about what it’s encountered and it’s all wrong.

I get up, turn on the lights and find a towel for my ankle. I wet the towel. Wring it out and wipe my self off again. Repeat and then go it to wipe up the puke and hair one of them has deposited in my bed. I find some clorox wipes and use them. I fall asleep sweating from the effort.

They visit me before dawn. I rub on them and they park their bodies warm and rattling with happy breathing against mine.

It’s always so pristine before the sun busts the horizon.

When driving, if I see a dead animal on the road, it never fails to ruin my day.

Every action is accompanied by an equal and opposite reaction don’t ya know.

Proof of a higher power can be found in the benevolence of cats.

Drinks for my friends.

The blogs are nuts tonight with potential scandals involving What’s Her Name. If there’s any truth to either of them, this thing will be over before the shouting.

I’ll not comment further except to say evidence is compelling but circumstantial.

What we have here is not enough.

Yet.

I don’t know and I’m more than willing to acknowledge that anything can happen because it often does. But this is fascinating. Not merely for what it appears to be on the surface, but what it means and says about McCain and his his whole infrastructure.

Anecdotally interesting are the soundbites from her in the last few months. I don’t believe she thought she was under any serious observation. Likely, she wasn’t being seriously considered. When you’re being vetted for VP of this country, you know. They’re in your face and all up in your business.

You feel them in your ass.

Regardless of how these few scenarios mature and whatever What’s Her Name’s involvement ends up being, I’m starting to understand that Doubtfire doesn’t know much more about her than we do. At least until just recently.

I’m not saying he threw a dart, but I’m starting to wonder if he didn’t make up his mind until the closing days or even hours of the convention.

He has no idea who this woman is.

It could be a perfect ripple in the course of human events.

Might just be the catalyst that allows us to get on with matters far more important. Wouldn’t that be something?

Forgive my enthusiasm.

Drinks for my friends.

This is ridiculous.

He’s lost his mind.

The first half of the day, I was genuinely confused.

Sarah Palin?

Let’s begin with the abundantly obvious. She has been the Governor of a remote, sparsley populated state for less than two years. Proir to that she was *gasp*, on the city council, then Mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, a population of somewhere over five thousand. I assume they have traffic lights and indoor conveniences. Possibly an unsactioned militia or two.

Creationism is taught in the schools of her state and she’s on board with it. She’s anti-abortion and pro-gun. She’s practically Ted goddamn Nugent when it comes to hunting. Former aspiring beauty queen still squeezing out puppies at forty four years of age.

And they say she’s smart. A real go getter. Sheezus! Let’s consider her for Postmaster General.

The jacked up long shot political calculus is that they somehow think this woman can bring evangelicals, social conservatives, and as many ignorant women as they can fool.

Yeah, good luck with that. Keep swinging for the fences. Try using a bat.

What we have here, is as shallow and transparent an example of political brinksmanship I have ever witnessed in a Presidential contest.

Doubtfire has met her twice. Or maybe only once. We don’t know. He is seventy two. He’s had cancer four times. Both his father and grandfather died of heart failure at an age younger than he. He is saying that this woman is the best qualified person in America to be Commander in Chief should he lose the fifty fifty wager that he’ll take the dirt nap at any moment after his inauguration.

Are you comfortable with that? This is the only question I want Republicans to answer. Don’t tell me there are other factors or that it’s not the point because it’s the top of the ticket that matters.

Answer. Yes or No?

Forgive me kids, it’s just a little more suspension of disbelief than I can manage.

It’s reckless, irresponsible, stupid and selfish. The hypocrisy and hubris is profound enough to inspire my jaw to slacken so completely as to allow drool to spill freely from my face. Bear with me while I change my dampened blouse and fashion a bib.

James Carville could barely keep a straight face or suppress his own urge to laugh tonight on CNN.

It amounts to this. Game over.

I’m relieved that it’s not going to matter at all.

I’m pretty sure this latest boot heel on dick move by McCain will prove to be his demise. He’s done. Look for the fork wagging from his back. There will be a sign on it that says kick me, I just shit myself.

John McCain needs a riding lawn mower and some grass to cut.

Drinks for my friends.

08/29/08 7:04PM
The Cynicism Of John McCain
I’ve never bought into the “experience” argument with regard to the presidency. There is no job on the planet that can adequately prepare someone to be President, so no one can be considered truly experienced for this job. Good judgment and values are far more important in a presidential candidate than experience. After all, look at all of the experience among the members of the Bush Administration, and look at the horrendous mess they have gotten us into.

But, the experience argument is really beside the point with regard to McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin as his running-mate. What this decision demonstrates beyond a shadow of a doubt is that John McCain has no integrity whatsoever and will do or say anything in order to get elected. McCain has spent the last few months making the argument that Barack Obama is “dangerously inexperienced” and that electing him would put the country at risk. How can he then turn around and put Sarah Palin (a woman with zero experience in national politics and a grand total of 2 years experience as the Governor of Alaska) a heartbeat away from the presidency? There is one (and only one) explanation for this unexpected move. John McCain is a pure politician and believes that putting Palin on the ticket will help him with key demographics that he needs to win in November.

This conclusion should come as no surprise to anyone who has followed McCain’s career over the years. The fact that McCain has been able to reinvent himself as a “maverick” and “straight talker” is one of the most impressive PR jobs in recent history. This is a man who was investigated and cited by the Senate Ethics Committee for interfering with a federal investigation of Lincoln Savings & Loan – a bank which eventually went bankrupt and cost the American taxpayers billions of dollars. Five Senators (the infamous “Keating Five”) were cited and investigated in the matter – three of them had their careers ended, while one of them re-branded himself as a “straight-talker” and is now the Republican nominee for President.

The only thing that is surprising about McCain’s selection of Palin is that he believes the American people will either not notice or will overlook the blatant hypocrisy and political opportunism that this move so clearly demonstrates. Does McCain really expect us to believe that his decision was motivated by the desire to select the most qualified person for the job of Vice President?

The selection of Palin is obviously motivated by two factors. First, many recent polls have indicated that a large percentage of Hillary Clinton’s female supporters have not lined up behind the candidacy of Barack Obama. McCain’s selection of Palin is an obvious ploy to try and win over feminist voters who feel slighted by Hillary’s loss. McCain supporter Mike Huckabee stated today, “Governor Palin … will remind women that if they are not welcome on the Democrat’s ticket, they have a place with Republicans.” What could be more simple-minded and cynical than this statement? (“Hey you disgruntled women, never mind that one candidate is for the war in Iraq and one has been consistently against it, never mind that one is for universal healthcare and one is against it, just vote for us because we put a woman on the ticket!” Man, they must really think the women they’re targeting with this argument are stupid. If I was a woman I’d be enraged by such an obvious insult to my intelligence.)

The second factor is McCain’s need to compete with the “historical candidacy” of Barack Obama. McCain fears that the standard ticket of two old white guys isn’t going to cut it against a candidacy that has captured the imagination of the world. So, what does he do? He goes out and tries to create his own “historical candidacy”.

There is nothing daring or “maverick” about this move. All it does is confirm the fact that John McCain is the ultimate Washington insider. He has been playing the game for decades and will stop at nothing in pursuit of the brass ring he’s had in his sights for so many years. John McCain is the embodiment of the cynical Washington status quo, and anyone who believes that he would provide anything but “more of the same” is simply not paying attention.

We would do well to understand that the entire world wants Our Man to be President.

It behooves us to understand why. Why they will breathe a sigh of relief once Barack Obama is elected is something we should be keenly aware of. We need to disabuse ourselves of the notion that the interest of the world in our political process is a bad thing.

Why would we think that anyway?

The rest of earth’s people are watching, more than ever before and that’s a very good thing. A very important thing.

See America, this election is far larger than us. The planet is holding it’s breath.

So am I.

Understand that these traditional divisions by which we so willingly seperate ourselves no longer matter. Red or blue, conservative vs. liberal, are concepts that have become obsolete. Barack Obama is an American. He is a citizen of the world. Just like you. Just like me.

This is what the global community hopes we will arrive at. The rest of the world has long since held the competition between our conflicting ideologies to be silly. What wiser Americans hope can be put behind us, is what Our Man said “enough” to tonight.

He had plenty else to say but that’s a chunk of what I got.

Forgive me for being not so concerned about specific positions and pontification on policy when it comes to a campaign speech. He acquitted rather aggressively in that regard and I liked it. In Doubtfire’s face. Right in his pasty sour little face.

Those things however, are better suited to the personal task of actually READING what the candidates have to say on specifics. The onus is still on the individual to do a little homework. Sorry kids, required reading is of both candidates. Think of it as your civic duty; because it is.

Sometimes, someone comes along. That someone ends up being exactly what we need. JFK, MLK and yes LBJ. It happens because of the need instead of the someone. A result of the circumstance as opposed to the man. That’s what Our Man wants us to comprehend. It is a concept that we must go beyond understanding. We need to own it.

He’s trying to tell us it’s not him, it’s us.

What he asks of us is not just to elect him. What he asks is that upon getting that done, we join him in making things right. He is challenging us to help, while he leads. To stand against a military industrial complex that holds an entire planet in it’s grip. To speak truth to power and wield common sense for the common good against plutocracy, theocracy and ideology.

He’s imploring us to pay attention and to participate.

There are two parts to his message. Elect him as a leader and then follow him.

And, maybe get on with the most important task of saving us all.

Boys and girls, better times are ahead if we will only stop being afraid and take matters into our own hands. Stop allowing a media run amok to dictate what you think. Start paying attention and begin to make up your own minds.

“And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.” -John Fitzgerald Kennedy

“It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.”

“It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.”

“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

That’s poetry.

Absolutely had to go there.

Drinks for my friends.

As far as I’m concerned, the Clintons have done their job. Passionate, sincere speeches full to bursting with conviction and enthusiasm. The matriarch and the patriarch of the Democratic party have gracefully bequeathed the Democratic flame.

Well done Bill. Well done Hillary. Very well done.

I mean at the very least, we know Bill to be an expert liar, but I bought his message tonight. Call me crazy.

I must tell you, my optimism is renewed.

“Don’t stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don’t stop, it’ll soon be here,
It’ll be, better than before,
Yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone.” -Fleetwood Mac

Amen.

Be afraid you willfully ignorant Republicans. Be scared shitless.

I’m an American. I love my country and what it has stood for. It is time for us to stand for those things again. I say fuck you John McCain. In light of the policies you endorse and the ideals you embrace, I’m more than willing to question your patriotism. I’m here to question your judgement. I’m here to seriously question your sanity.

I’m not as anxious to cut you the slack everyone else seems so willing to afford you. I think you’re wrong, anachronistic, obsolete and absurd. I think you suck and you’re bad for America and the world.

I gotta tell ya, this convention is good stuff. The Democratic party has been gathering steam for years and they are about to explode all over America. No worries, it’ll be like a warm spring rain. Not sticky at all.

The Republicans have nothing but ad hominem rhetoric, fear and divisiveness. They sure as hell have nothing on the issues. They have rent the American ethic asunder, without apology, without remorse. They have no business attempting to cast aspersions on those of us who dare to think outside of their stupid, pitifully small box. How dare they question us after how badly they have screwed it all up in so short a time.

Ever notice how their eyes are way too close together? And they squint when they think hard.

As my old producing partner Al used to say, there’s a fine line between clever and stupid.

Then there’s Joe.

There is perhaps no better person in the U.S. Senate than Joe Biden. Know how I know? After thirty six years in the United States Senate, he’s it’s poorest member. On paper, he’s not worth shit. He’s in debt. My kinda guy.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the perfect ticket. A man of hope and optimism and the intelligence to see it through and a man with the experience and the goddamn down in the dirt kick your ass toughness to get shit done.

My man Biden parked it tonight. It was not one inch short of gorgeous. Biden is the shit. Powerful, pissed and righteous.

Republicans may as well sit this one out. Why show up if you’re just gonna get your ass handed to you? Why behave in public if you’re living on a playground? Stay home. Have a few beers and don’t worry. You only stand to benefit here, even though you may not deserve it.

What we have here, is a successful communication. Yes we do.

Doubtfire will go down in flames because he has it coming. He deserves it.

And really, this is far larger than either he or his faithful, or party-line Republicans have the capacity to grasp. It’s weird that it’s beyond them, but it is.

Drinks for my friends.

Much respect as I remain entertained by the Rajun Cajun, but he needs to take his whiskey home.

“You haven’t heard about Iraq or John McCain or George W. Bush — I haven’t heard any of this. We are a country that is in a borderline recession, we are an 80 percent wrong-track country. Health care, energy — I haven’t heard anything about gas prices,” Carville also says. “Maybe we are going to look better Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. But right now, we’re playing hide the message.” -James Carville CNN.com

See, Jimmy, you’re right.

But see Jimmy, there’s another agenda as well. Dare I sound like an overly sensitive nancy boy when I point this out, but we’re going for a little unity here too.

See Jimmy, that’s on the agenda because you Clinton people have just refused to be remembered as dignified. Your class and generosity is suspect. Y’all continue to pick and whine. We no longer want to listen to your shit. We’d like to move on. We’d still like you to come with us, but it’s time to go.

See Jimmy, there’s a significant number of you who say at least, that they’ll be voting for McCain because Hillary didn’t get was owed to her and Bill. What was owed to her and Bill.

Jimmy, this is a problem and these people are idiots.

See what I’m saying Jimmy?

You musta missed Michelle Obama’s speech. My cable is out but my mother called to tell me how wonderful it was.

I watched it in pieces on the internet. I imagine you pontificated before that so I’m giving you a partial pass.

I actually teared up a little. These two people are special. They reach out and touch with astounding grace and sincerity. Her speech tonight was beyond compelling.

She was.

An elegant and passionate orator, an honest and humble communicator, a profound force of humility and honesty. Beautiful and intelligent and courageous.

She was.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I was moved.

She is.

Resplendent.

Jimmy, my advice to you is to shut up, jump on the back and let your feet dangle over the edge while you watch the road pass backwards between them.

Drinks for my friends.

Ever since the bastard visited the worst kind of yellow journalism on Ahmadinejad last year, I’ve had a black place for him in my mind. I’m no fan of that shit Ahmadinejad, but Pelley’s questions were pregnant with flawed assumption and bullshit jingoism.

I enjoy 60 Minutes. Often brilliant. Yet, Pelley in particular, when reporting on all matters of war and foreign affairs, consistently misses the point. He did it again tonight. He grilled a soldier who’d never seen combat, thrust into the hottest of zones, over his actions and command in Haditha, Iraq after a vehicle in his convoy had been blown sky high and his men had come under fire in an urban enviroment.

Within minutes, his unit had killed twenty four Iraqi civilians.

Within minutes.

It happened that fast, so yeah, mistakes were made.

Pelley plumbed the depths for an explanation of the recklessness and the degree of remorse. Of course, Robert Wuterich was more than sorry, but he said that under the conditions he could not imagine doing anything differently. It was chaos.

Wuterich will face courtmartial for the events of that day.

He said something like he never intended to go murder people in their houses, it’s what happened as he acted according to the way he was trained. He did not intend to be responsible for the deaths of twenty four civilians.

I’m not excusing it or them, I’m just saying it was close to impossible.

Whatever.

It’s all completely beside the point.

Dick-in-Bush are the criminals. Condi and Rummy et. al.

By some estimates, over a million Iraqi civilians have been killed as a result of American military operations in Iraq.

So, somebody please explain what the point could possibly be for prosecuting a soldier for murder under the circumstances they found themselves in. Circumstances our President and his cavalcade of greedy neoconservative douchebags have immersed our soldiers in. Sunk them in, so that many can barely breathe.

This is fucked up. America seeks to prosecute soldiers for a split second decision when they are surrounded by an enemy that is indistinguishable from the populace. A child, a woman or an old man may be pregnant with fifty pounds of exposives under traditional garb.

Congruent to Abu Ghraib, where guards were persecuted and prosecuted for an ethic of permissable torture and degradation that originated and was fomented in the highest corridors of power of the United States military authority.

It’s a goddamn joke. And it makes me want to puke. Engineer the clusterfuck and then hold the actors you cast in the ridiculous play responsible for the words you put in their mouths and the deeds you script in black and white.

Man, I hate these guys.

Where do they hope this sort of precedent will lead? Irresponsible. Unconscionable. Stupid and entirely without accountability or compassion.

They have destroyed everything. The trust and will of the world and the will and trust of the people of this country, undermined and sick.

Thus far, accountability has gone as far as soldiers and guards. That, boys and girls, is really bad news.

Allow me to recommend “The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder” by Vincent Bugliosi.

Forgive me, but how many morons are holding out for McCain? Seriously. You people are killing me.

Drinks for my friends.

is some Joe Biden.

And I am not at all unhappy about it. This is a man who is sharp and brave, unafraid to say what he thinks. Unapologetically more than a loose lipped cashier. Tangle with this man at your peril. He doesn’t know about gloves.

I like that his fuse is as obvious as it is.

“This is bullshit. This is malarkey. This is outrageous. Outrageous for the president of the United States to go to a foreign country, sit in the Knesset … and make this kind of ridiculous statement,” Biden said angrily in a brief interview just off the Senate floor.” -Poitico, Ben Smith.

Symmetry. Fire and nuance. Grey hair and youth. Experience and fresh ideals. No ideology.

Two swinging dicks.

Chairman of the U.S. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations. Former chair and still member of the U.S. Senate Committee on the Judiciary. Thirty six years in the Senate. This guy is good.

I can’t forget watching the C-Span footage of Biden gritting his teeth, looking like he was going to come over the table at Ashcroft during the very first Senate hearings on torture. It was brilliant. He was so disgusted with the United States Attorney General he had no hope to disguise it and he didn’t care.

Now I can’t help but salivate over the anticipation of Biden against either Romney or Lieberman or maybe Ridge in the debates. I can’t wait to see Benedict Fliptop or Guy Smiley with the magic underwear at the end of Biden’s whip. The Republicans don’t have shit. This just may be really good stuff.

Be afraid Republicans. Be very afraid. There’s a freight train of subtlety, intelligence and burning brimstone steaming right at you. She’s fully loaded, gathering steam and she’ll be racing at full speed by the time you meet her.

This is good stuff.

It is an informed and wise choice in light of the dramatic shift the office of the Vice Presidency has enjoyed under Richard Bruce Cheney. You can vomit a mouthfull about the evil bastard but we must own the paradigm shift he’s engineered in terms of the office he occupies.

Biden is a presence and Obama is no fool. He’s signed a powerful and willfull man as his partner. Hillary’s shadow was too long. All the others cast a shadow far too short. Biden’s is just right.

Here we go. Come the Fall, there will be blood.

This is gonna be good.

Drinks for my friends.

Official brainspank prediction for Democratic VP is Joe Biden. Brainspank has very little problem with this. Go after Biden and before you know what happened, he’ll be shitting down your neck while the eyes from your decapitated head can’t help but watch.

What kind? I don’t know. Find me someone who can demonstrate that this shuffling knucklehead is impaired. These are in no particular order.

1. At a campaign event today, Doubtfire made it a point to agree with “everything” a woman who said she saw no way to continue all that we’re engaged in militarily and still follow Bin Laden to the gates of Hell without a draft. The last words out of her mouth were about the draft. Doesn’t matter if it was some version of a verbal typo, what a loser. Not a statement or even an explanation from his campaign.

2. The cross story. The same goddamn story he’s been telling since the cassette tape was king. At first it was about someone else. Now he’s combined it with the rope story and tells it in the first person. He must be one desperate bastard to cheapen and exploit his devastating sacrifice for a little bump in the polls. I’m anxious to put what may be too fine a point on the issue of Senator McCain’s service to his country. Wes Clark pointed out that his internment during the Vietnam war did not qualify him for commander in cheif. I agree. I’m of the opinion that it’s an event in any man’s life that would give me pause as to his stability. What I’m trying to say here is I think the guy is more than a little nuts.

3. He was a shitty pilot but his Old Man was a four star Admiral. He was fifth from bottom at Annapolis out of eight hundred and ninety nine cadets. Grandpa was a four star Admiral too. He crashed three or four planes. Without legacy, he never would have gotten in to Annapolis.

4. He’s a sellout. He brags about standing up to big oil while contributions to his campaign from that lobby went from half a million to two million as soon has he flopped on the useless idea of more offshore drilling. He consistently votes against veteran’s interests or he doesn’t bother to show up.

5. He’s an adulterer. I don’t really care about this one but everybody else seems to, so I thought I’d throw it in.

6. After Bush, Rove and Cheney bent him over to enter him with an ICBM sans lube in the 2000 Presidential primary, his withered, birdy lips have been around the evil triumvirate’s blackened and pre-tumescent phallus ever since. It’s disgusting. The man has no shame.

7. I loathe this campaign strategy of coloring Our Man as some kind of elitist. McCain has eight residences, far from ordinary residences. He wears five hundred dollar shoes. I bet it’s been less than a handful of years that Our Man might afford such shoes. How many houses you think he owns? It’s a fucking lie. A huge one. The worst kind because it’s such blatant hypocrisy. Our Man, no father, entirely self made, no legacy, an elitist. Fuck you Doubtfire.

8. His membership in the “Keating Five” and the Lincoln Savings & Loan conflagration. Our first Enron.

9. He’s completely wrong on Iraq. The other night on television when pressed to define what rich is he burped five million in annual income. Earlier this year when asked about the possibility of occupation in Iraq for fifty years, he vomited the idea of a hundred. He doesn’t know how to use a computer. He only recently learned of the difference between Sunni and Shia. He cannot comb his own hair. How’s that for number nine bitches?

10. He’s a dick. He craps in a bag. He pisses himself and his bed chronically. Nobody likes him. He smells funny. He picks his nose and his ass and smells his fingers. He’s addicted to lip gloss. There’s a precancerous discoloration on his back about the size of an omelette that looks like 666. He loves to call attention to his farts. He enjoys to eat dog. His wife is an android from Stepford. He’s never gone downtown on a woman and uses faith as his excuse. He’ll throw a rock at a little kid whenever he can get away with it. He has shat in more than one closet at more than one dinner party.*

*I don’t know any of number ten to be true but none of it would suprise me. I thought it was only fair to toss some lies out there. The “liberal” media seem to have no problem with it. After all, it’s a lot of fun. The other nine however, are the absolute truth with my hand up.

Drinks for my friends.

Of all that I read on myspace, this guy is always above it. He’s sharp, knowledgeable, original and consistent. I’m introducing him to you because I admire him and his thinking. I intend to post him regularly. Look for him under “Josh”.

What follows is his first contribution to brainspank:

Tuesday, August 19, 2008 – 12:26 PM

Hell Hath No Fury: The Legacy of Hillary

I truly thought I had written my last piece on Hillary Clinton once it became clear that Barack Obama would be the Democratic nominee for President. That was until I read today that 28% of Clinton’s primary voters don’t plan to vote for Obama and 18% of her female voters plan to vote for John McCain. At the risk of being labeled a sexist (it wouldn’t be the first time), I have to wonder whether disgruntled women are really willing to be responsible for the end of the world.

If I had an opportunity to converse with a member of this 18% (I don’t know any personally), I would ask her if it is really more important to avenge her mistreated sex than to avert World War III. I thought men were the ones who are supposed to be self-destructively stubborn, but if these 18% tip the scales from Obama to McCain, we men will at least be able to enjoy the vindication in knowing that women are capable of matching us, if not exceeding us, in pig-headedness.

In a broader sense, this is not about feminism at all; it is rather an example of a larger phenomenon which I believe is the greatest source of evil in the world – i.e. group identification. Whether it be patriotism, racial solidarity, school spirit, or any of countless other examples, we are taught from the cradle to the grave that it is a good thing to support those who are like us against those who are not like us. In fact, what could be a better example of this mode of thinking than the nationalistic orgy of the Olympics that we are currently witnessing? Why does is matter whether the US has more medals than China? Why should we root for an American athlete over a Russian athlete? What if the American is an asshole and the Russian is a nice guy?

Likewise, anyone who has the audacity to argue that an Iraqi life is of equal value to an American life is immediately branded as “un-American”. How anyone can hold such a belief and simultaneously claim to believe in a God who created heaven and earth is beyond me.

There is nothing wrong with being proud of one’s country, race, class, sex, etc., but when one crosses over to giving preferential treatment to members of the “in-group”, harm is necessarily done to everyone else who is not a member of the preferred group. (For a further discussion of this subject, please see my earlier pieces “Anti-Semitism and Jewish Solidarity” and “The Money Lender”.)

If this world is going to save itself, it will not be due to the efforts of any specialized interest-group, whether it be the labor movement, the women’s movement, the pro-choice movement, the pro-life movement, or any other movement. The very basis of all of these movements is fundamentally flawed. As a result, despite the best of intentions, they all serve to perpetuate the struggle of human against human, and by doing so they threaten to lead to the eradication of the human race. Only by moving beyond all forms of group-identification and truly embracing the “brotherhood of man” will we have a chance of drawing back from the brink and saving ourselves from the destruction that seems more likely with every passing week.

So, to those 18% of female Hillary supporters, I beg you to reconsider your stance. To allow your dedication to your “in-group” to cause you to withhold your support from Barack Obama (who you know damned well is a far better choice for President than John McCain), would be a tragic instance of cutting off your nose to spite your face. Like you, I look forward to the day when race and sex will be a non-issue in selecting our leaders, but if you pursue this goal from the limited perspective of group-identification, there may be no future at all for man, woman, black, white, American, Iraqi, Russian, Georgian…

Here’s something I do a lot. Contemplate. Remember, analyze and perseverate.

I think about shit. I can’t help it.

I have to say, despite most of us not actually dining on each other, we are brutal cannibals. I wonder what raw percentage of us kill another in a lifetime. I mean in a war, through criminal neglect or a car crash. Whatever. Bet it’s pretty high.

Yet, our various capabilities and intelligence as a species are far beyond anything to ever inhabit this tiny, microscopic sphere. As far as we know.

Telescopes so powerful as to allow us to see back in time. We got gear on Mars that talks to us constantly. It’s understood that the faster you go, the slower time is. We think it comes close to stopping once you seriously approach one hundred eighty six thousand miles a second. The speed of light. Basic relativity. Nothing new. Did you know time and space are pliable?

Dolphins and whales, mammals both, are closest to us in intelligence. They don’t even have fingers to dial a phone or run a calculator. Maybe their fins could work an abacus someday. I hope so. They seem to have a dignity and wisdom that humans lack. It occurs to me that most animals do.

We know dung beetles are over a hundred million years the same and we’ve long since made more than enough bombs to probably erase any evidence of ourselves.

It’s a theme I visit often. Our individual morality versus our collective ability to swing a sword ever more effectively.

Geologists, anthropologists and archeologists have successfully debunked the monolithic myth that is any Bible or religion, ancient or contemporary.

Here we have the competition in black and white. A bas relief. Right there in goddamn front of ya.

This is the race humans are running. We cling to fables and ancient justifications for things we didn’t understand and those we still don’t, while our capacities increase beyond our abilitiy to control them.

Realistically, the disconnect is emotional and spiritual. As a species and a community, we are not merely callow, but inept in any way having anything to do with any pursuit of right and wrong or responsible, individual morality.

Our demise will be the triumph of technology over the failure of philosophy and compassion.

We commit the error of substituting religion for philosophy over and over and over.

Having “faith” does not guarantee an advanced level of kindness or or anything like it. I observe it to be a likely indicator for prejudice and intolerance. I’ll be blunt. I think it’s stupid and counterproductive.

We all die and that’s all we can know. I don’t know about you but that fact lends me considerable humility. As far as I know I’m finite and so are you. Get over it. There is no Santa and your beliefs don’t make you special.

Somebody remind Darth Cheney.

What I’m trying to get to is this:

The longer people hold fast to these archaic notions about God, religion, nationalism, patriotism, jingoism, et al, the faster we race headlong and pell mell towards the abyss of extinction.

The good news is the Earth will survive us. She’s just as responsible for shaking us off as we are for killing ourselves. Maybe she’ll give the insects the next big chance. Who knows? I’m pulling for the fish with hair.

Drinks for my friends.

I was troubled after the CNN presentation of interviews with both candidates by the leader of the Saddleback Church, Rick Warren.

Question number one is who is this friendly bastard and why is he here? National Television. An influential religious figure gets this kind of airtime on a cable news network?

All I care to know is he heads a megachurch. The fourth largest in the country. The biggest in the biggest state of California.

So you know, fuck him. Ha! That much power in the venue of God and fear and the fear of God, discredits the man entirely in my book.

Ever seen “There Will Be Blood”?

He seemed nice enough. Some of the questions were compelling.

John “conception” McCain did very well. The bar was low but he succeeded in raising it. You know, they said the same about Dumbya. So yeah, Doubtfire did quite well and that pains me of course. He was direct and resolute. Simple. I imagine he’d just had his cocktail of vitamins and stimulants via the nightly needle.

Our Man was far more conversational and relaxed. Yes, he was nuanced. Profoundly. When he spoke of the humility we must maintain when confronting evil because too much harm has been done in the name of good for example. Eloquent and salient. This guy is good.

The thing is this, that honest and thoughtful shit doesn’t always play in Peoria or Clearwater. That’s a shame.

I’m angry. I’m over having to make room for the stupid, lazy and underinformed. It doesn’t take a genius to see we’re fucked and the group that’s fucking us are all dressed the same with similar haircuts. The codgers all sport the “Doubtfire”. The Dorothy Hamill for the pasty set. Often they look like their pink heads are about to combust under their pale gossamer combovers.

Except the insurgents, they look like us. They talk liberal but vote neocon.

What that is, is talking complex to obfuscate ignorance. Willfull ignorance.

I have empathy for the authentically stupid.

I have disdain for the willfully ignorant. They disgust me. Intellectually dishonest, most likely greedy and dispassionate.

Sometimes it all seems so hopeless.

I talked to two good old friends today. Older and younger by about the same amount. Both very good men. I have a much stronger bond with one of them but it doesn’t matter here. The older was far more pessimistic than my younger friend. I was curious to find myself in the middle. It struck me that chronologically, my veiws were predictable. Typical.

Then I considered the company I was in. That thought became a bit of a revelation. I flirted with epiphany.

It never quite came.

The older said truthfully that we can and always will do worse.

The younger said honestly that he believes we will do better and there is a way.

I have Deja Vu.

Drinks for my friends.

At least once a year the carnival came to town. Right after school started. While fall made itself known. They’d set up in the park, in front of the towering cottonwoods, where the grass barely grew.

I entered kindergarten when the population of my town was barely twenty thousand. We weren’t a suburb. Our first fast food emporium was a McDonald’s when I was eight or nine. The next biggest town was Reno, some thirty miles north with not much at all between save for a lake called Washoe that goes dry every decade or so.

No internet, no cable, no cell phones, not even a VCR. We got a microwave oven when I was sixteen. We eventually obtained a pushbutton phone. The closest place to buy a comic book was a few miles away. Closest place to buy a record was miles further. Andy’s Smoke Shop was downtown, next to Cactus Jacks on 395. Main Street. Easy on a bike, not on a skateboard.

I read, listened to records and rode my bike all over the goddamn place.

I was seven or eight when I allowed myself to be strapped into a ride called The Hammer.

It was painted bright red, white and blue. I thought of Evil Knievel. I’m sure the kind of oversight in place now didn’t exist back then while we still hear about people meeting their maker to this day on these things.

I was walloped by color and sound.

Crazy. The cockpit restraints fit way to loose and it reeked of vomit and beer. Two rocket nosed capsules at either end of a spinning steel beam some sixty feet high that swung both forward and backward while each two man compartment rotated three hundred and sixty degrees simultaneous but opposite.

It began to rain. We came over the top, the velocity of the arm I’m riding slamming rain on my face and into my eyes. The only break I get from this is while I’m speeding towards the dirt in front of the Cottonwoods.

It was a fucking nightmare.

I’ve barely stepped on a ride that might shake my tree since.

The high desert turns cold very quickly. Warm afternoons become a windy wet snowfall before the the sweat on your neck dries. I’ve sat in snow on the Fourth of July.

Most of us were perfectly happy to visit the carnival, nevermind the weather.

Rows of booths, games and food to make you shit like a goose, festive lights, smells of cotton candy, popcorn, corndogs and mustard. Dust and desert wind. Tiny glass bowls filled with bright colored water and goldfish destined to be discovered belly up within a few days.

People from Silver City, Virginia City, Minden and Gardnerville.

There were fistfights between bikers and cowboys. Elderly couples wandering with mouths open and eyes empty. Children with sticky faces and hands. Not much to compete with the sensory impact of a small town carnival. I never cared fuck all for the games or the prizes. The rides were suspect at best.

Drunken carnies missing fingers and teeth operating the Feris Wheel and The Hammer had long since sealed my deal.

Unidentifiable potential, almost tangible, hung like the possibilty of a storm on a cold, summer Sunday after mowing the grass. Wind blows strong, brush and weeds whistle. Giant clouds moving like starships over the Sierras.

I kissed a platinum blonde girl named Nicki from Reno once. She tasted like fruity lip gloss and bubble gum. She wore a light blue top and tight white pants. She had boobs. I touched them. Then I wrote a poem.

Red and yellow bulbs float in aromas of hot grease and sweet candy. Fudge and caramel. Pink, blue and green from the aisles in the center offering everything from blacklight posters to garish mirrors with a variety of liquor logos and ubiquitous cheap ass stuffed animals.

Cigarettes, drugstore cologne, Avon perfume and sweat

A poetry of chaos.

One year, sixth grade, I managed to win a sort of golden red Iron Cross on a chain. I was more than pleased while it clanked on my school desk and aided me in setting a record for demerits.

Department stores used to smell like the textiles they sold. These days every square foot of retail space is perfumed to enhance the shopping experience. Back then, I could smell the automotive department from home & garden. Last time I was in an auto parts store it smelled like an auto parts store. I was pleased.

Monday morning on the bus going up the highway, like it was never there.

Talking to people that can’t or won’t hear me is an arduous task. It just happened a few nights ago and it fills my gut with so much frustration it’s unbearable. I can’t stand not being understood. I can’t stand speaking truth to the mistake when the mistake lacks dexterity to hear even basic honesty and sincerity.

At this point, what to do?

Walk. It’s useless. It becomes a spiritual deficit. Too bad.

I’m not sure, but I think that’s why we all like the color blue.

“By the pricking of my thumbs / Something wicked this way comes.” -Will Shakespeare

Drinks for my friends.

An actual headline from the website.

These people are full of shit.

Duh.

“ExtenZe is the strongest, most advanced formula available today to increase the size of your penis and enhance sexual desire, pleasure and performance. With the newest, most advanced medically designed formula ever created for male sexual enhancement, it’s simply the best and is all natural with no harmful side effects. Increase the size of your penis in just a few weeks by taking one ExtenZe tablet each day. ExtenZe works for men of any age.
Even if you’ve tried everything, even other pills, you owe it to yourself to try the one that really works…ExtenZe!”

I called the toll free number. I told them I was a prominent blogger and would be happy to tell the truth about their product if they would agree to send me a free sample.

The TV deal was postage only for a free seven day trial so they only wanted 97 cents.

They only accept credit cards, however.

I reminded them I was a very prominent blogger and they should just send it to me.

They only accept credit cards.

They refused to waive the postage for the very prominent blogger.

I suggested COD to the very polite and friendly Phillipino lady.

No way I’m giving these fucks my credit card.

Wait! The Commercial is on again. Who the fuck is Doctor Stein from the Stein Institute? If he were suddenly thrust into the public school system he’d automatically be diagnosed with a learning disorder, given a helmet and assigned to the short bus. If that didn’t work they’d make sure he was bullied constantly and made to believe he was a homo and that it was very bad to be a homo.

They only accept credit cards.

How fucking stupid can people be?

I will share this with you. If there were a product on the market that could increase the size of male humanoid genitalia, in a male dominated world such as this, it would be available as lozenge sized discs packaged in a foil wrapper at the counter of every convenience store, gas station, drugstore, vending machine and public restroom in America. Eventually pushbutton dispensers for gorillas and every other male primate on God’s green Earth would be made available.

They only accept credit cards for the fucking postage.

I tried, she was polite, I regret not telling her that I’d be recording the conversation as well for purposes having nothing to do with quality or customer service. I wasn’t recording, I just wish I’d said it.

I asked about ingredients. She was a little vague.

It’s on again. Stein has personally researched the product! He’s got golden signage on a pinkish brick facade. Five men, at least one of them gay, testify to having achieved a larger unit.

“Dr. Stein has lectured internationally and is a regular guest on a variety of television programs nationwide. He is also widely quoted as an authority on sexual health and medicine in popular magazines such as Redbook, Glamour, Cosmopolitan, and Mademoiselle.” -extenze.com

Pillars of responsible journalism all. I don’t care who this horse’s ass is, if he’s trying to convince me he’s got a pill that will make my dick bigger, he’s insulting my intelligence and that makes him an asshole and a potential sociopath.

“Special area of the male body”

“Male enhancement”

Now there’s a full on infomercial with three broads on a couch answering questions like, “When did you first discover size?” They have taken over the airwaves.

This is the cheesiest most resolute pandering to the lowest common denominator goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

It may be gratuitous to mention, but my male membership has recieved consistent praise. I’m a Douglass after all.

“Size is a big thing”

“The most easiest product I’ve taken”

Unfuckingbelievable.

The fact that this broadcast makes it into my living room is an example of the millions of idiots breathing my air.

This angers me.

“synergistic blend”

For men who are not only dipshits, but tragically under endowed.

Doctor Stein is creepy as a septic tank.

I understand there’s been a Chupacabra sighting in Texas by a fat cop with an onboard camera.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, welcome to the Dope Show.

This shit with Georgia and Russia scares the piss out of me. We got nuthin. Not a damn thing. Lest ye think them that talks tough are brave, trust me when I tell you they are instead, stupid. We got nuthin.

See what I’m saying?

Drinks for my friends.

McCain: “In The 21st Century Nations Don’t Invade Other Nations”

Sheezus!

This from a moron who doesn’t understand the difference between Sunni and Shia or that there even is one. This from a man so obtuse as to say in a primary debate that Americans are better off than four or eight years ago. This from a man so ignorant and stupid as to describe an appearance in Baghdad acommpanied by blackhawk helicopters and dozens of heavily armed soldiers as no different than a Sunday afternoon stroll in some bucolic American neighborhood.

Word is he’s thinking about Lieberman as a running mate. That beats Romney in absurdity by a mile.

The problem is that this idiot is a serious contender for President of The United States. The problem is that there are that many dipshits voting.

Obviously, Iraq means America and the Bush administration have virtually no credibility or authority regarding the conflict between Russia and Georgia. So absent either in fact, they look silly trying to talk about it.

Russia has basically invited Dumbya to piss up a rope.

The Keystone Cops, indeed.

Next we have this asswipe, Jerome Corsi, dropping another turd of a tome filled with copious quantities of complete bullshit about Our Man. The aforementioned voters, well, the ones that can actually read, will no doubt hoover this crap like it’s the next New Testament or some cheesy bodice ripper with extra large print and a diminutive number of adjectives.

I cannot wrap my brain around the fact that this is even a contest. I’ve said that before. I doubt it’s the last time. I can’t help but lament what looks for all the world like willful ignorance. Ten percent still believe our man to be Muslim. So what if he was? Turns out he’s a Christian. At least he’s nondenominational. I have no more or less respect for Christians than Muslims. Why would I? I’ll bet the ratio between crazy fanatics and well intentioned altruists is near identical.

Who knows how many Muslims are pedophiles with autonomy granted by their faith?

Wake up. Muslims are no more a threat than any other group, religion or country on this bright blue marble. What will it take to convince the great unwashed to stop panicking at shadows and think for themselves?

People amaze me.

For the record, I’m reading Vincent Bugliosi’s “The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder” and he’s pretty pissed. On Deck is Pasty McSquinty’s “What Happened”. I’m really looking forward to Ron Suskind’s new one.

Whatever.

Drinks for my friends.

The amount of energy my father poured into my brother, his first son, is more or less equal to the amount my brother devoted to me. I’m saying it was considerable. He is ten years and ten days older than me. From my father’s first, brief, failed marriage. From an impossibly broken home; some seven step fathers if I remember right.

Trust me when I tell you I had excellent parents. Perfect? No goddamn way. Solid, sound and wise? Yep. Check.

There just happened to exist a window in my development whereupon some original influence could be life altering and existential.

His wind first blew when I was nine or ten. A letter of immaculate script delivered by a sheriff’s deputy. He was living in Phoenix and looking for his father. I was in awe of his handwriting. Looping, consistent and artful. To this day when he takes a pen, it’s a river and a breeze on paper.

He appeared on our porch one Sunday afternoon after we’d gone taunting carp and slow moving trout with corn on a hook at the Carson River. He was a hippie, an idealist and a profound influence in my young life. To say that I admired him is an understatement.

Asleep in a floppy hat and a fringed leather jacket on our astro turfed awning covered deck in front of the new doublewide. Hair past his shoulders and a long mustache. His rusty, primered and bondoed Karman-Ghia, filled with stereo equipment, LPs and massive speakers, sat in front of the mailbox.

He moved into the living room and we made friends. He bought an H0 scale slot car set and performance kits for us to modify the cars. Balsa gliders so we could battle each other. He taught or exposed me to a huge variety of things. Music, art, drugs.

Most people aren’t what they seem. Despite what eventually transpired, I believe he is what he seemed. A loving and compassionate young man who sought the acceptance, love and respect of his new family. He had a charisma that may only be gained from a assload of adversity.

He played music for me and we talked about it. At length. He taught me how to listen, illustrating the role of individual instruments and how they worked to support melody and rythm. Without a doubt, his influence is the the most compelling reason for my pursuit and eventual success as a record producer and engineer. He’s also the reason I’m seriously embarrassed to reveal how much I’ve spent on my own stereo.

He went to work for my father pouring concrete. Most nights after work, he’d shower and we’d drive my dad’s orange Datsun pick up, “The Pumpkin”, to the 7-11 for Doritos and Pepsi. He’d smoke a joint on the way and we’d put on a record when we got back.

Eventually he rented a trailer my parents owned a short bike ride away. I spent a lot of time there. By this time it was my job to select what we’d listen to. I have no memory of us ever watching television. I chose between Joe Walsh, ZZ Top, Deep Purple, Tommy Bolin, Led Zeppelin, Phoebe Snow, The Ohio Players, The Who, The Average White Band, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Supertramp, The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac………and I discovered the magical, perhaps symbiotic relationship between records and bong rips.

See, it wasn’t just the music and the drugs. It was the packaging of the LP itself. The way they smelled, the artwork and the liner notes and credits.

Heady and abundant times. He was singularly responsible for opening my eyes to a world I never knew existed. The other side of everything.

By the time I was fourteen. he’d married a wonderful woman that we all adored. It didn’t last. Probably his fault because he went down pretty fast after that. I became de facto marriage counselor one summer. I spent hours on the phone late into night with both of them. I hoped it could be saved. She was beautiful inside and out but she was eighteen. He was at the beginning of the end of growing up and it wasn’t going well. He’d already morphed into a member of a biker gang with a nickel plated .357 magnum in his saddlebags.

Drinks for my friends.

Americans have become so painfully obsessed with morality we’ve all but abandonded ethics.

Too many steer by some absurd moral compass as opposed to basic rules that any group of humans should abide.

I’ll put that another way and not to make you more comfortable. We’re so ridiculously consumed with judgement and diving for a role to render it, we’ve abandoned common sense and the idea of walking in the shoes of another.

Tragic in more ways than one could possibly swing a dead cat.

The rub is thus, morality is nebulous and subjective. More than vulnerable to wrongheaded interpretation. Ethics are hard and fast rules, based more on the doctrine of ‘do unto others’, rather than the ‘don’t covet thy neighbor’s wife’ school of thought.

See? One is Jello. The other is currency.

Don’t bother telling me I can’t lust. I have no control over it and refuse to beat myself up for it.

Those who value morals over ethics, go home, cook up some lime Jello and cover your gold bullion with it. If you’re not rich, you’re obviously stupid. If you’re stupid, try mayonnaise and pineapple on top. It’s tasty.

The wealthy can afford to perpetuate a moral code of their own because they have money to cover their asses and it’s a wonderful vehicle for them to exert influence and control.

We have ethics. Trust me when I tell you it’s better to have ethics than the morals of anyone else.

Pineapple and kiwi make my tongue itch and swell. The sides of my tongue will then chafe against my bottom molars and cause considerable discomfort for a few days.

Morality inevitably sucks compassion and sensitivity out of a society if allowed to commence without check.

I have my own moral code. I struggle with it. It is mine, I’ve no desire to foist it on anyone else. I may have set my bar a bit high but it’s better than too low.

At the same time, I expect that others will not steal from me, betray me, treat anyone without equality or kill anyone I love. These are ethics.

They seem elementary. They are. There is a myriad of ways to break these simple rules, however.

My particular morals are an extension of ethics. As it should be, but they are my individual rules. I decide these things myself. They are mine. I endeavor to keep them to myself.

But, I’ll share a little for the sake of example. I do not betray confidence, especially if I understand that something bad has happened. I wouldn’t protect a serial killer mind you, let’s just say I possess secrets that will never experience sunlight on my behalf because it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

I don’t care who you fuck, why or how, as long as it’s consensual and not my girlfriend. I believe war is immoral unless we’re attacked or know for sure we will be. I believe the rich should help the poor and shouldn’t seek tax loopholes or to hide their filthy lucre in offshore accounts.

I believe I don’t want fuck all to do with your church, your thoughts on abortion, sex, contraception, civil rights et. all. Those are morals generated and perpetuated by a religious bureaucracy that is absent accountability or logic and insists on defying the brick and mortar fundament of ethics.

It is unethical in every way to fuck little boys or exploit the poor by taking their money. It is a betrayal and a theft to posit that God favors one political candidate over another. It is a betrayal to insist creationism is taught in any classroom or to withold any information about birth control.

Any grey area associated with issues like these are afforded by someone’s morality. Ethics remain crystal clear.

I trust my friends to go further. We are friends and I will not take advantage, exploit or lie to them. My real friends see it the same way. We are here to support and enrich each other. I try very hard not to lie to anyone.

If I don’t give a mad fuck about you, I might lie to you. Morals.

Drinks for my friends.

I watched the American Women’s Gymnastics team at the Olympics tonight and had two thoughts:

They are amazing. They tease and defy gravity with muscle and balance. Fascinating and compelling.

I felt vaguely pervy as these are not women, but girls, who’s physical maturity has been suspended by vigorous athleticism.

It goes without saying, as an enthusiastic supporter of John Edwards, as someone who believes in him and his message, I am profoundly disappointed with the news today. I feel for his wife, his family and his miserable self.

I will always insist, regardless of an individual’s political affiliation, or anything else really, that private life should remain private. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a public figure or not. Absent crimes with victims, it’s simply not our business.

I’m disgusted by the sensationalism and exploitation that has no doubt just begun to gather volume and velocity.

The train has left the station.

I refuse to judge any married man or woman who would stray. It’s not my place and I’m confident it’s not yours.

Nonetheless, reality is unrelenting, so my anger and disdain are acute and I’m plenty pissed off. As David Gergen so adroitly pointed out on CNN, he knew exactly what he was doing as he sought the Democratic nomination for President of the United States. Were he to have prevailed in that contest, we’d be witnessing the comprehensive implosion of Democratic hopes for the White House as well as a severely deleterious shitstorm for the party.

Irresponsible, wreckless and reeking of hubris.

An incredibly dumb move.

I do believe his intentions to help Joe Six Pack and the less fortunate, were and are sincere, but I’m furious over such selfish and stupid judgement.

It’s almost certain that his political aspirations have come to an abrupt end. I believe it is the least he deserves. He was clearly willing to jeopardize the entire future of America in her most dire of times and that really, really sucks. Therefore, so does he.

Did he endorse and probably encourage torture? Did he send thousands of Americans and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis to their deaths for a lie? Did he flout our Constitution? Did he deliberately break the backs of our middle class by further enriching the already filthy rich?

The answer is no.

He ran a spotless campaign.

Would he have made a good President?

My opinion is absolutely yes.

It is abundantly clear however, that he doesn’t deserve to be the leader of the free world any more than George W. Bush ever has.

That is a fact that saddens me more than you know.

Fuck me, this sucks. It’s gonna leave a mark. It’s gonna leave a stain.

Drinks for my friends.

Read this:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bob-cesca/protecting-mccains-ignora_b_117565.html

Then clue me in as to how to post a goddamn link. Yes, LO I know you did but I lost it.