Dear Republicans...

Dear Republicans:
While you were yachting  and collecting trophy wives (although I have to say that every time I see Joe Biden and his wife, I think I’m watching a Cialis commercial), it became NOT the 1770’s. And women and black people? They got the right to vote. Shocking!

We all know that when Thomas Jefferson wrote in The Declaration, “We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable (later changed to “self-evident”), that all men are created equal…” that he and his peers meant only MEN and specifically only WHITE MEN and even more specifically only RICH WHITE MEN, i.e., landowners. We also know that The Declaration was a bold statement that set in motion the future fights of women and other minorities, and that we cannot fairly view Jefferson’s choices and words through a 21^st century filter. The younger generation today keeps trying to run all of American history from our leaders to our laws to our books, movies and television shows through their ever-evolving world view, and not only does it fail miserably, it pisses me off. Stop it already. We need to look at 2012 with a 21^st century lens. And that includes YOU, you dumb-ass Republicans.

In case you are unaware, dear Republicans—DUH—people can love God, yet not be Bible-thumpers. Black Americans are not out hoeing the back 40 of your cotton or serving up your mint-juleps. And women do not want your palsied, cold, liver-spotted fingers all up in their private parts. (Special note to Joe Biden: Invest in some Porcelana ® and some hand warmers.) We can believe in the sanctity of marriage—although at this point, it’s not like the heterosexuals have done such a bang-up job of promoting its sanctity—without the pompous indignation aimed at couples who don’t fit your portrait of “normal.” For God’s sake, interracial marriage was illegal in the US until 1967, and it’s been deemed immoral for centuries in many cultures. How preposterous! At least in the US, we’ve gotten over that stupidity.

But here we are in 2012, and the Republican party has the nerve to put this guy on the ballot. I’m not saying that Mitt isn’t a nice man, although I’m really disturbed that he’s named after fucking sports equipment. I’m sure that even some Democrats might agree that as a person, Mitt’s all right. (Okay. Maybe I’m reaching.) But the Republican Party could only be more out of touch with mainstream America if they were fricking Taliban.

And now they are all scratching their hoary heads and wondering how the hell they lost the election. Helllllooooooo?? Idiots?? STOP trying to tell women what they can and can’t do with their wombs. STOP trying to tell gay people that their love doesn’t equal yours. (And don’t try to tell me that there aren’t gay people amongst your ranks!) STOP trying to tell minorities that they are less important than rich, white people. And, for the love of Jesus, STOP letting Trump speak. At all.

It’s true that fiscal conservatism is needed in our country more than ever. That means that spending cuts are inevitable. But it doesn’t have to be only programs designed to help the poor that get cut, you morons! Our government could STOP spending $100 for a fucking stapler you can get at Wal Mart for $1.99, for example.

The problem is that people are rabidly emotional about money. But if we trim social programs RESPONSIBLY—and that means by reducing the salaries of government employees who push around papers and bog down the system AND by streamlining the processes of identifying deserving recipients of government aid—we can keep lending a hand to the people who TRULY need it, and at the same time, lop off some of our incredible debt. STOP calling Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security and Welfare “entitlement programs.” American workers have toiled long and hard to SAVE money out of their paychecks with the expectation that it will be there when they retire. It’s not like anyone could opt OUT of having SS removed from their pay. We EARNED it. And we expect the government to GIVE IT BACK, dammit.

And as for Welfare and Food Stamps, yes, yes; it’s true that there are sycophants in our country whose total existence consists of sitting on a dilapidated porch, drinking all day from a brown-paper-bag-coated bottle OR having lots of babies without a thought in the world about how to feed them. Newsflash! All of those folks are not minorities! And not ALL folks have been raised with the same values as Republicans. And SOME folks have mental illness. It’s important to weed out people who are defrauding the system, but we can’t just abandon everyone, you nutbags.

As soon as the two aloof, lily-white representatives of Republican-ness that the Party paraded as the “ticket” hit the trail, there was no doubt that they were going down. Hey, Republicans, here’s a novel idea: Why don’t you try a WOMAN candidate? Or a MINORITY? Hell, a fucking deaf-mute would be a better option at this point. Get your heads out of your gold-plated asses and pay attention. Cultural values have changed. And God still loves all of us anyway. If you have the hope of ever, ever putting a Republican back in top office, it’s time you recognize those of us who aren’t rich, white and male.

The Politician's Brain

Would I lie to you? This is an actual diagram  of the politician's brain.

If you grab a random sampling of US presidential candidates—or any politicians, really—and brutally slice open their heads with a cranial saw, guess what you will find after you wash away the glowing green fluid? There in the cerebral cortex’s frontal lobes, where decision making and purposeful behavior and conscience originate, is a tiny placard that says, “Out of order.”

It’s true. My uncle was a brain surgeon, and while he never hacked open any politicians of which I’m aware, and I never would have been permitted to look in on the carnage anyway, I have a terrific imagination. Plus x-ray vision. I can easily “see” inside the heads of those soulless skanks we call “politicians.” Something happened in the formation of the political embryos. The construction of those synaptic bridges necessary for activating moral judgment was apparently halted, probably by an inability to “reach across the aisle” and agree on funding. Who knows?

What’s apparent is that when the loaded BMW of conscience approaches the bridge to morality, it sails straight off into the wild blue yonder of gray matter instead of staying in its own damned lane and finishing the journey to Good Decisions that Benefit Others. If money is involved—and when isn’t it if we’re talking about “public servants” here?—the car’s driver is legally blind. Another problem: Too often the little guy between the politician’s legs is driving the car.

The recent National Conventions provide the perfect showcase for the incompletely formed brains of our government’s finest. We ALL know that politicians lie. It’s as natural as the sucking instinct, and we know they do that too.

There’s a group of Fact Checkers who peruse all campaign speeches, looking for “spin,” (a.k.a. bullshit). Members of the Associated Press—who are members of the media, which means they lean so far left they’re practically horizontal over the W on the compass—feel a responsibility to report the crap in political blustering to all us peons. I love the idea that Americans admit such a well-known truth. Politicians flat-out lie. And that necessitates the creation of a group of folks to sift through the trash to find the shit.  

At this year’s Republican National Convention, VP candidate Paul Ryan lied five times according to the fact checkers. The dumpster-divers didn’t find much stretching of the truth in Romney’s speech—probably because he’s a Mormon, so he’s afraid of having to spend 1000 years in Spirit Prison in the Telestial Kingdom. Interestingly, Fact Checkers found that during the Democratic National Convention, President Obama and VP Biden lied 8 times. Guess who’s going to Spirrrrrit Prissssson?

I wonder if Biden will acknowledge Ryan in the “yard.” They’ll both be bench pressing 20, their American flag tats all shiny from the sweat. Maybe Biden will spot for Ryan. Maybe the other way around. I don’t know. But you can bet that when one of ‘em drops the poundage on the other fellow’s head, smashing the skull and spilling brains all over the harsh concrete, nestled there in the gelatinous mass will be a little sign that says, “Still Out of Order.”