Courtesy Anaheim AngelsWe knew there was trouble all the wayback in January. Really? That much froth and frenzy about poor Miss Jackson-if-you're-nasty? Really? How very plebe.
It was a stupid, stupid year, I thought. But what do I know? As Roy the Bigot once helpfully explained to me (“Shut up,” he explained) when I was staying a day or two at his Wyoming ranch and ventured to respond when he was talking to four dagos from Jersey who'd come out to shoot prairie dogs and who couldn't have been more bored with talk of politics, but I like 'em, and since Roy the Bigot enjoyed talking politics, I thought maybe he'd enjoy talking politics with me, well, as Roy the Bigot helpfully explained (before volunteering, his face turning purple, that he didn't hold with interracial marriage, but out of respect for my boy's virgin ears, he'd be good enough to leave it at that), well, old Roy the Bigot, after he told me that once I'd gone off to war to serve my country, then I would have the right to speak, well, Roy the Bigot pointed out to me that I am, after all “self-proclaimed as being from California.” So it's not like anyone has to listen to me, anyway, because I'm not as American as, say, a bunch of mama-murdering baby stealers from Kansas—baby stealers who then show off said stolen baby to their pastor.
I've said it before and I'll say it right now: there is something the matter with Kansas.
So, not that anyone has to listen to Californian, Commie, Jewy old me, but I like breasts! I think they're pretty and nice and soft! (I've maybe got a bias against big, old, gross, fake ones, but only when they're awful.) And I've never murdered anyone at all! Even though I'm a (Catholic and a) Jew!
There's been a lot of nasty talk ever since the Christian Right won the election; they've “won” the culture war, they say, and they aim to claim the spoils: there will be no hope, joy, dancing or lust (or love and hope and sex and dreams); there will be no flamboyance or beauty or crazy love; they'll take our David Eckstein and our Percy and our Glaus; and pretty soon, they'll have put us all to death like their blood brothers and nemeses the Islamazoids do, whether we're providing abortions, adulterizin' or just having a gay old time. Me, I plan to survive as the secret mistress of the most important man who'll have me, sad-and-chintzy Handmaid-style. (How you doing, Tony Rackauckas?) That is, until they get me like the Iranians got that retarded girl for prostitution after her mom pimped her out. Yeah, that girl's getting stoned.
Also? They kill puppies, don't they?
I like the Christian Right. I was even engaged to one of them a couple of times, and just this morning, I had breakfast with my neighbor (since I've moved to the Belly of the Beast) and her nice home-schooled children, and before we had that apple crumble, we said us some grace, and it was nice! I just don't like it when the Christian Right tries to cover up tits on classical statues, tells kids lies about using condoms, and says Jews like to murder children and have anal sex. (See Bill Donohue, Catholic League, on Scarborough Country: “Hollywood is controlled by secular Jews who hate Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. . . . Hollywood likes anal sex. They like to see the public square without nativity scenes. I like families. I like children. They like abortions. I believe in traditional values and restraint. They believe in libertinism. We have nothing in common. But you know what? The culture war has been ongoing for a long time. Their side has lost.”)
Jews don't like anal sex at all!
That's just silly: on the same program, Miss Jennifer Giroux said, “All I can say, Rabbi, is you've got to concede the fact—and it's difficult because we all at times in life have to say, I'm sorry, I was wrong—we cannot go back and make it that the Hawaiians killed Christ.”
Stupid Hawaiians.
There are some as have recently been elected to the United States Senate who've advocated the death penalty for abortion providers. (Tom Coburn, come on down!) And there's St. Louis' venerable archbishop, Raymond Burke, who helpfully clarified for me that most Catholics, my junior high school Liberation Theology nuns notwithstanding, are not commies, and when the U.S. Conference of Bishops came down emphatically against capital punishment and did all other manner of good lefty bishop things, well, they didn't really mean it. I mean, we already knew it was “a grave sin” to vote for John Kerry. But what we maybe didn't know is that “procured abortion and homosexual acts are intrinsically evil and, as such, can never be justified in any circumstance,” Burke wrote. “Although war and capital punishment can rarely be justified, they are not intrinsically evil; neither practice includes the direct intention of killing innocent human beings.”
You know: the direct intention of killing innocent human beings like those intrinsically evil homosexual acts.
Stupid archbishop.
Oh, things were whiskers on kittens for a while. There was that really terrific Franz Ferdinand album, and I very much enjoyed William Shatner, both on his album and his show. And the American people, once roused from their La-Z-Boys by Michael Moore—the demonization of whom has come straight from the Rove playbook of hitting us where we're strongest until even Dems are denouncing Moore like Peter denied Christ—would rise up like Ukrainians and get good and ornery! They would be angered by the administration's incompetence before Sept. 11 and by the frightful mess at Abu Ghraib. My goodness, people actually paid attention! They would tire of the lies being peddled! They'd be on Orange Alert with the voting machines, considering the CEO of Diebold publicly proclaimed his commitment to “delivering Ohio's electoral votes to the president.”
But no. Once Ohio happened, all of a sudden, you were crazy to wonder if someone might have tampered with the results. That's black-helicopter stuff! You know what's much more likely? That, as some Republican commentators were claiming, it was the exit pollsthat had been stolen. Because that makes much more sense.
And to be fair, everything makes much more sense than whatever drivel I'm spouting. I'm just from California, have done been to college, have never called for anyone's death (unless you count calling for the Ravens' Tony Siragusa to die lonely and alone) and haven't done even the smallest bit of tweak.
Stupid, tweakless me.
