Posted on 12/13/2004 10:10:21 PM PST by Alouette
Give me a break — or a big glass of vodka. We've gone from shock and awe to shuck and jive, and Captain Quagmire ran the table anyway. Now he's got the White House, the Congress, the Supreme Court, the military and a chip on his shoulder he's calling a mandate. I don't know about you, but I'm getting a Republican haircut just to blend in.
For four years it's been one big all-you-can-eat buffet for the corporations, and now they're coming back for more. Go ahead, you marvelous bastards! Rip out all the trees, pave the beaches, build 12-lane freeways, plunder the treasury, destroy our future. Cook the books, rig elections, pack the courts, hand the regulatory agencies over to fascist maniacs. Invade more countries, declare code red, invoke martial law, and keep going until your oil-sucking exploits kick off a nuclear exchange.
By God (or Diebold), you've earned it. You've hoodwinked the evangelicals. You've threatened the journalists. You've built a propaganda machine and disguised it as a legitimate cable news network. You've used it to force-feed every right wing loon from Ashcroft to Zell down our throats until they began to sound normal. You've used phony government alerts to manipulate the trailer park patriots, and you've dismantled the separation of church and state to the point where the Stars and Stripes represents the anti-choice, fuel-guzzling, homophobic God of the blow-dried televangelists.
Yes, Mr. President, it's your great and lasting legacy. You've brought brazen deceit into the political mainstream. In fact, it wouldn't be too much to say you are the single most credible Republican since Dan Quayle sprayed that grey stuff on his sideburns. And now you say you want my support. To assume you are being sincere is in itself a faith-based initiative, but in the spirit of fleeting bipartisanship, I'll play along.
I pledge allegiance to the united corporations of America. For the next four years I will continue wearing my Nike shirt, my Adidas shoes, and my Old Navy logo pullover. While eating my corn flakes, if I find that I'm chewing on a coupon, I'll suppress the thought that the corporations aren't content to have turned me into a human billboard, they want me eating their advertising, too.
I'll do my best to suppress my inner environmentalist. When my conscience says things like, "Hey! Isn't that bioengineered food you are eating?" I will assure myself that the radioactive waste in my dental work will kill off any cooties.
I will overlook the fact that you've done more damage to feminism than 20 years of gangster rap, and I will ignore the fear that we will soon need Sherpa guides to reach the ruins of anything resembling such relics as an eight-hour work day. I will do my best to ignore the feeling that I've fallen into a Fellini movie by ignoring the eyes of the old TV news anchors who, caught up in TV's sudden shift to the right, seem to be trying to tell us something they aren't allowed to say on the air. I will suppress my suspicion that you are part of the same gang of psychopaths who brought us Enron, Vietnam and Dallas '63, and I will shelve my theory that the best way to make a dent in terrorism is to invade the state of Texas. And I promise not to move to Mexico, which seems pointless anyway since it appears to be moving to me.
Those are my concessions, Mr. President. Now I need a few from you. I've found it hard to feel proud of America since you first took office. I was among the millions who were appalled when you morphed the home of democracy into a rogue nation endorsing the kind of preemptive war that characterized the Nazis. I don't want a Cowboy-in-Chief roaming the world in search of convenient villains on which to impose gunslinger justice. There's a place for that in an episode of "Gunsmoke," but in today's world we have the United Nations to resolve international disputes. It took World War II and the deaths of 53 million people to create that institution; it seems a waste to disregard that so you can play Judge Roy Bean.
Your West of the Pecos diplomacy has created a trickle-down paranoia that is ruining the neighborhood. We are becoming a dog-eat-dog, everyman-for-himself nation of fair-weather friends. That's what happens when the PATRIOT Act makes enemies of librarians and when the Pentagon begins probing our emails. There are other ways to track Al Qaeda without having to know everything about me going back to those X-ray specs I ordered from the back of Boys' Life.
I know we don't agree. After all, I am a liberal — by your definition, a godless feminist heathen running an abortion clinic in my kitchen and a gay wedding chapel in my garage. Hey, in today's economy, a guy's gotta make a buck. But rest assured that I am no atheist. I know there must be a God. With you in the White House, if there wasn't, we'd surely be dead by now.
So, on behalf of liberals everywhere, and with all the Viagra of progressive thought I can muster, I extend this salute. I offer it with my best wishes and the sincere hope that all who made your victory possible will someday share your deep convictions, both federal and state.
ROFLMAO
Yeah, I can see where he would (sic) have a hard time mustering a ............never mind.
Hey, this guy's all right!
I will overlook the fact that you've done more damage to feminism than 20 years of gangster rap, and I will ignore the fear that we will soon need Sherpa guides to reach the ruins of anything resembling such relics as an eight-hour work day.
No, I don't think anything any conservative could claim would have done more damage to feminism than that. But thanks for the compliment. And I'm thinking this guy wouldn't know an eight-hour workday if by some outrageous misfortune he should ever have to endure one.
But I like his style. The usual cant about corporations is as stale as ever - we wouldn't want to take a look at the donations list to the Democratic party for "Inc.," now would we? Or a fellow named Soros. But underneath it all I detect the tiny spark of a human soul. By 2008 he'll have found it and stamped it out.
You've used phony government alerts to manipulate the trailer park patriots
Is he talking about us?
More like "idol worshipper".
This clown worhipped at the altar of Clinton for eight years. Slowly (or not), he began to believe that it was the Clintons that made the sun come up every morning. All good (and all liberal stuff is good to him) came from the Clintons.
This is what happens to your brain when you let liberalism grow from the main thing in your life to the only thing.
hahaha! dude, you're cracking me up. But I should be sleeping. Shame on you.
It's a real shame he didn't learn the values Boy Scouts (BSA) attempts to instill in our youngsters. BTW "Boy's Life" is published by the BSA, and has been read by millions of kids for generations.
Apparently none of it's values have penetrated the writer's thick skull.
Look up paranoid, leftist fool in the dictionary, and there will be a picture of this clown.
But of course, it is not now true, never has been true, and the Democrats are so use to owning all major media organizations, to controling the message the American people here, that just haven't caught up with reality. They converted themselves into believing such unhinged tripe. They are lost in their own, self-manufactured psychosis.
Sucks for them.. ;)
SFS
should have read "Congressional Republicans.."
Drop a note to this whackjob's editor.
kevinu@pasadenaweekly.com
Posting photos of people from the Seventies just isn't fair. This guy may be a raving Lib moon-bat, but nobody deserves to be seen like that!
And I promise not to move to Mexico, which seems pointless anyway since it appears to be moving to me. (my emphasis)
I have a strong feeling Dean already has a boyfriend. These types usually have their brains located in their crotches.
What about the children?!!
Isn't anybody starving the children anymore?
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