Wednesday, March 24, 2010

H.R.3590, Motion to Concur in Senate Amendments Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act: The Opera

Being philosophically opposed to helping people in need and making life better for anyone other than the 1% wealthiest of Americans, Fox News and their affiliates, the Republican Party and the Tea Party, ratcheted up the rhetoric and theatrics ahead of the vote in the House of Representatives last Sunday.

Members of the Tea Party on Capital Hill on Saturday made their voices heard like a thunderous fart echoing off the sanctuary pews.  How did they make their objections heard?  By calling one African-American member of Congress, who was beaten within an inch of his life in the early sixties for his efforts to secure civil rights, a--it starts with "n" and rhymes with chigger.

Less the frothing throng of idiots feared that they did not make their opposition to H.R. 3590 clear enough, they took it one step further.  Barney Frank, a serious legislator and a great statesman, was reminded what he already knows about himself and has told the world.  Some mentally challenged Teabagger (was that redundant?) called Representative Frank a--starts with "f" and rhymes with maggot.  Though he does virtually flutter up the steps of the Capital on his way to work every morning, he doesn't pretend to be something he isn't like some of the most religiously pious, wide-stanced, closeted homosexuals on the other side of the aisle.

During Sunday's deliberations, GOP members of the house egged on, from a balcony of the Capital, their functionally illiterate constituency below by holding signs that read, "KILL THE BILL," and the "Don't Tread on Me," coiled-snake flag.

Meanwhile, Michele Buchmann, candidate for the nuttiest bitch in the history of humanity award, reminded the Tea Partiers, through a bull horn, that if the bill were to pass that afternoon, first thing Monday file clerks from the Department of Human Services would begin to round up everyone's grandmothers, rape them, shoot them dead, and then rape them again for good measure.

On the floor of the House Representative Bart Stupak, the irritatingly pro-life Democrat was called a "baby killer" by some equally irritating butt hole from Texas.

On the local evening news, a woman with a hair-do like a cumulous cloud in attendance at a kill-the-bill watch party sobbed and sputtered uncontrollably at the horrifying news that the bill had passed and a black man would soon sign it into law.

Democratic representatives' offices were vandalized.  One congressman's brother's gas line at his house was tampered with at the behest of a Tea Party website that mistakenly gave out the brother's address thinking it was the congressman's, proving two things:  Tea Partiers aren't smart enough to do jack-shit correctly, and they are no more mature than a band of villainous thirteen year old boys that were potty trained by threat of physical abuse.

The most disappointing development from the far, honking-mad right is that the fat bastard, Rush Limbaugh, has not bolted for Costa Rica like he promised.  That's right, the fat f^@k has lied to all of us again.  Instead of being sprawled out on the tropical shore of Playa Manuel Antonio like a beached, albino whale, in an utter daze from ingesting a hand full of prescription pills chased with a bottle of rum, the prick is still at his golden microphone pumping several million people's ears a day full of false crap.

On the lighter side of things, the general public is just now starting to understand what is in the bill, and kind of likes it, according to recent polls.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Audio: The Bugle - The greatest satire podcast featuring John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman in the world

Audio: The Bugle - The greatest satire podcast featuring John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman in the world

A Clockwork Beck...And an Engineer's Concern

'Why is this damn phone ringing at 2:00 in the morning?' I thought.

I reached over and picked up the phone, barely able to see or think from the deep sleep I was enjoying.

"Hello and this better be good!" I mumbled.

It was the Lawyer's wife. Why in the world would she be calling at this hour of the morning?  Something was wrong.

"You have to get over here," she said in a trembling voice, "as quick as you can.  It's, it's my husband."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" I said. "I was in the middle of this great dream. There were 8 girls in lab coats and.."

"Shut up and get over here now! It's an emergency!" She yelled.

"Okay," I said, "give me about 40 minutes to get there."

I got dressed as quick as I could and hopped in The Nissan Cube, the official transport of The Lawyer and The Engineer. I drove with the car maxed out, 67 miles per hour, and arrived in less than 35.

I knocked at the door and she let me in immediately. She looked very frazzled to say the least.

"Now what in the hell was the emergency?  What's wrong with your imbecilic husband?" I asked.

"He has been down in the basement for about 14 hours now and refuses to come back up or even talk to me." She cried. "I'm really worried that this Glenn Beck thing has gotten out of control. Since he started watching, he has been behaving more and more...."

"What? Tell me," I implored.

"Well, just weird. Very's uh..well it's just hard to put into words. You just have to see for yourself."

"Oh c'mon...Look, I know you are worried and all but this is The Lawyer we are talking about. He has seen and done it all. Well, I remember just like it was yesterday when...," I said.

"HELLO! A little focus here. Go look for yourself if you don't believe me.  He's in the basement," she snapped back.

I walked over to the basement door and started down the creaky steps. The Lawyer had spent some time and money fixing up the basement, making it his own personal hideway. In fact had nicknamed it the "ManCave."  It had all the accessories to make it rock, like a refrigerator and a killer surround sound system.

I could hear the faint sound of music, but it was some bizarre song that I had never heard before, sounding almost like chanting accompanied by tribal drums.

"Are you down here, old buddy? Hello, can you hear me?" I said, cautiously descending the steps.

I reached the end of the steps and looked around the corner... Holy Shit!!

He was sitting in a chair and directly opposite of him was this..this...thing that he must had made himself. He had taken what looked like 10 rolls of duct tape and formed a crude shape of a head. On that duct tape head, he had placed a blonde wig but with most of the hair cut off so it was short and ratty looking. Then he had placed the duct tape head on a broom stick and somehow had stuck the other end of the broom stick into the floor. Around him was about 12 or so empty bottles of scotch, some rope, and a shovel.

I realized that he was having a conversation with it.  Mumbling, screaming, pleading with it, his arms waving about. Trying hard not to just turn around and run, I slowly walked over to him.

"Uhhh...Lawyer old okay? You want to talk a little?"

He turned to look at me. His eyes were wild looking, like a cornered animal.

"Tell him! Tell Glenn that he is just a stupid fucktard! You gotta do it...gotta do it....," The Lawyer screamed.

"Glenn?" I quizzed.

"He's right here! Can't you see him? Look! Just LOOK!"

"Ummmm, hold that thought and I'll be right back" I said

I climbed up the stairs, quickly, and walked over to his wife.

"Sweet Jesus in a cornfield!! Call 911. Call 911. Shit! He is WAY worse than you had said! He is worse than any words can describe! Holy Fuck! We gotta get some professional help and NOW!"

The Lawyer's wife was all ready starting to dial.  She called her family and The Lawyer's family, as well as the family psychiatrist.

The Lawyer was descended on by every man in the house.  He grew violent, yelling, "It's a government takeover, the government is coming to get me!"  He bit someone's hand.  With some extra rolls of duct tape on the floor they were able to mummify him as the psychiatrist loaded him up with a hypodermic full of happy juice.  Completely rolled in duct tape, except for his smiling face, The Lawyer was carried to an ambulance and rushed to the hospital where he was admitted to the top floor until his sanity might...[sniffle, fighting back the tears]...might someday return.  The initial prognostication was that the chances of a full recovery were bleak.

God save The Lawyer!  

Stewart Employs Some Really Becked-up Logic.

The introduction:  It's a matter of life and death, so watch it.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartMon - Thurs 11p / 10c
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Bert the Nazi is infiltrating our children's minds with cancerous thoughts:

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Conservative Libertarian
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Thursday, March 18, 2010

A Clockwork Beck, Thursday

After four days of what amounts to self-inflicted torture, I could feel a gloominess pervading my spirit.  At the grocery store, in the courthouse, at Pet Smart, at the gas station, all the people at those places, all around me--how many of them were shit for brains Beckerheads?  How many of them carry on their daily lives with an air of normalcy, yet inside incubating and cultivating terrific fears that the government is in the hands of a baby-killing, Socialist Satanist?  How many of them are just waiting for the day that their man-boy hero gives them the go ahead to start rioting and kill all the liberals and take back liberty and freedom?  

That guy at the other pump, was he one of those nuts that went out and helped to empty the shelves of ammo at the gun shops after Obama was elected?  The woman in front of me, checking out at the express lane, does she believe that Democrats in Congress really want to kill her grandma fucking dead, just for the hoo-ha of it?  

It's them or us, man, I told myself.  They're everywhere, man.  They're coming to get me, maaaaan.  I abandoned my grocery cart and made a run for it, and didn't stop running until I had made it home, and hid myself in the darkest closet in the house.  I rocked back and forth, sucking my thumb, thinking evil thoughts, with a 1.75 liter jug of Dewar's within reach. 

Thursday:  I don't know how much more of his this lunacy I can take.  Glenn has an audience!  The bleachers are packed with white Beckerheads, that are unusually quiet as butter nuts drones on about government take over, and the end of the world as we know it.    Glenn, in his typical fashion of running up to the edge of inciting a riot, warns the crowd that the bill about to be passed is not about health care and education.  In his words, "it's war."  Glenn say he thought and prayed about all of this shit last night, but then doesn't really explain what he thought or prayed about.  He shows film of rioting in Greece, fires blazing in the streets.  Glenn smirks, and points out, we're next.  He is segueing from one non sequitur to the next so fast, I get vertigo and have to take a spirited swig from the bottle to make the room stop spinning.  Glenn suggests that when this health care bill passes, we will be slaves to the government, just like what happened to the Soviet Union.  I have no idea what in the fuck he is talking about.  Paranoid assertions, followed by life-threatening extrapolations based on the underlying premise that progressives are really Stalinists who have nothing but hate in their hearts, are coming at me so fast I can't keep track of his delusional brand of logic.  Glenn shows a pretty picture of an apple tree drawn on a chalk board.  He explains, it's the tree of liberty.  On one side is health care reform.  On the other is ego, lies, and something else equally awful that the American public is being fed.  He explains these trees used to have apples that had three seeds in them--faith, hope and charity!  Progressives are poisoning the the tree of liberty at the roots.  Ben Franklin would be ashamed.  Fuck this!  

I turned the television off and went back to the closet to drink in darkness where my wife found me three hours later passed out, muttering, something about apple trees, Greece, butter nuts and Bolsheviks.  She called her mother. 

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

A Clockwork Beck, Wednesday

Slowly coming to, I rolled in bed towards my wife's side and reached around her for a fervent morning snuggle, copping two handfuls of love.  I felt her shift and roll over to face me.  This might be my lucky morning, I thought.  Opening my eyes I found myself nose-to-nose with Glenn Beck.  "Hey, sweetie," he said in that buttery smooth voice of his.  Throwing the covers off the bed, I bound to the floor screaming in fear.  I woke up panicked and covered in sweat, as I bolted up right.  Cautiously I leaned over my sleeping wife to make sure it was her in bed with me, not the mad, half-wit, Glenn Beck.  It was just a  nightmare. 

Wednesday:  The man-boy with the golden buzz cut is accusing Representative Dennis Kucinich of having a "wee, elfin body."  You're one to start poking fun at the way someone looks Glenn.  Look at him.  Glenn has girlish hips, a small crotch and a fat, irritating face.  He is the embodiment of the kid in grade school you wasted no time laying out flat with a good smack to the gob the first time he came up to you talking a heap of smart-aleck horse shit.  If health care passes, we'll be like Canada, Glenn warns.  Why's that so bad?  Glenn and all of his semi-retarded fans know, Canada is full of Marxist pussies--it's just understood.  No wonder Canada produces some of the best comedians. Glenn sounds the alarm that the IRS will be in charge of health care if the bill reaches the president's desk.  The major theme running through all of his shows is that government is both hopelessly incompetent and explicitly malicious, which is my exact impression of Glenn after these three long days.  Our health care system is the best in the world, according to the golden man-boy, because our top five hospitals conduct more clinical tests than all the hospitals in Canada, Great Britain and Sweden.  If I understand, unnecessary tests are a big percentage of present health care costs, because that's what the insurance companies pay for--tests and procedures, not outcome.  Blah.  Tort reform is the answer, Glenn insists.  Right Glenn, kill all the lawyers, and all that tired crap.  2% of health costs are captured by tort actions.  Why?  Because doctors and hospitals sometimes fuck up.  Right on cue, there is good ol' uncle G. Gordon scaring the shit out of already scared and angry, over weight white people, tuned in all over the country, to buy, you know, gold.  Glenn declares that the U.S. has the "greatest free market health care system the world has ever seen."  And I would add, and damn near the only free market health care system among first world countries.  That's why we are number thirty-seven overall according the those pinko-commies at the WHO.  Glenn points out that Obama's damnable family tree is full of Marxist, therefore Obama is really a Marxist, though closeted.  The red scare is alive and well in the curious mind of Glenn Beck.  The federal government will lie, cheat and steal from Americans if the health care bill passes, says Glenn.  [Drum roll].  And your quote of the day, straight from the pouty lips of the most odious little prick in the known universe:  "Only logic, reason and honesty will save health care."  I just want to lay my head down and cry, or, in the alternative, tazer myself unconscious.  Glenn states that congress is breaking the rules by using congressional rules to pass the health care bill.  Another gold commercial, and Barry Goldwater, attorney-at-law, with a one-eight-hundred number soliciting tort cases.  What ignorant fuck-wad at Fox let that one slip in?  More crap; too much for my mind to capture, hold and purge at this point.  Another gold commercial.  And Beck closes, not missing the opportunity to take one more snarky jab at our Democratically elected Marxist-in-chief by taunting him to pick up the phone and give him a call.  I wonder how many dinner parties Glenn has been thrown out of, head over ass, resulting in a protective order being placed against the creepy little bastard.

My once contentedly functioning cerebral cortex throbbing in disarray, I turned the television off and made straight for the Dewar's.  Shudder, gulp, shudder.  Sitting at my computer I googled, "how to become a Canadian citizen."

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

A Clockwork Beck, Tuesday

The Engineer would have none of it despite my whining and pleading to him on the other end of the phone.  He did hint that he might take over the duty of watching Glenn Beck for the rest of the week if I would agree to baby sit his children every weekend for an entire month beginning Friday.  I conveyed to him the unacceptability of the proposition by hanging up.

Upon arriving home I searched the house for any diversion possible to occupy me in an act of dereliction of duty.  The clothes were folded, the dishes clean and put away, the toilets gleaming and minty, and the yard still brown and in no need of mowing.  There was no available excuse to avoid another lost hour and an inevitable dampening of my spirits.  I did consider one other thing I could do instead, but knew my wife would be home soon, and concluded it would be slightly less disconcerting for her to catch me watching Glenn Beck than perusing

I summoned all the bravery I could muster, and hit play.  

Tuesday:   I guess Faith, Hope and Charity is the theme of the week, since fuck face can't quit talking about it.  A passing reference to Democrats as "snakes and cockroaches" in reference to their efforts to pass health care, and overcome the party of No.  "Besides the military, tell me what government does well?" the bastard implores, his eyes wide with daring.  Oh let's see, roads, schools, libraries (where Glenn claims to have educated himself after dropping out of high school), the justice system, disease control, and a thousand other things.  Glenn introduces a panel of three white men.  A cantankerous old bastard that used to be a judge, a frat boy economist, and a pencil-neck Jesus freak.  It is quickly understood that they have a shared hatred of government, and I suspect particularly when the executive is in the hands of a black Democrat.  Judge Napolitano the Cantankerous, suggests that Senator Schumer wants the Bill of Rights repealed.  But, if you want to do away with government, that's as good as place as any to start, your honor.  Glenn comments that passage of health care will guaranty government intrusion into our homes, and then makes this alarming declaration:  "Democrats want people to have fewer babies," the implication being that liberals sanction abortion to satisfy their insatiable lust for the death of the vulnerable and young. I consider punching myself in the dick to make sure I am really awake and this isn't just a fucked up dream.  Thank God!  I never in my life thought I would be so happy to see G. Gordon Liddy pushing gold.  More crap about Faith, Hope and Charity.  I still have no idea what mythic significance these words have for Glenn.  Another gold commercial.  David Barton, the pencil-neck Jesus freak says that liberals misplace faith in government, instead of God.  And this zinger:  "Social justice should be delivered by religion, not government."  Right, Barton.  Close the courthouse doors, get out your pitch forks.  Grab the noose, Cleetus.  It's time to do the work of the Lord.  What an asshole!  Another commercial break, but no gold.  Just a plug for The Teaparty Express coming to a town near you.  I can't fucking wait.  As Glenn sees it, the passing of health care is a constitutional crisis.  The judge opines that faith is being destroyed by government.  Barton accuses the administration of obfuscating facts.  Oh the goddamn irony.  Glenn closes with, "Faith, hope and charity come directly from God to you, to give you the spine to stand up."  Uh, yeah, sure.  The last gold commercial.  Stop.  Erase.

After another hour gone for ever, I imagined this is what it must feel like to have an out-of-body experience, and to have visited an alternative reality where fact and fiction are indistinguishable, inseparably pureed.  I shuddered, mixed a stout one of Scotland's blended finest, and shuddered again.  Only three days to go, I consoled myself.  Damn my eyes and ears.  

Monday, March 15, 2010

A Clockwork Beck

It was my idea, but I felt something more than a tinge of anxiety about the prospect of executing on it.  I asked The Engineer if he would like to run with it.  Citing chronic indigestion, he declined.  So, the matter fell to me, The Lawyer.  I reached down in my pants, verifying that I still had a pair.  I did.  

I determined to watch Glenn Beck's show, on Fox News, for a week and report on it.  Picking up the remote, I noticed my hand just barely shaking.  Reminding myself that merely watching a program on the television could not harm me, I took a deep breath, puffed my chest, and steeled myself, a large container of Tums at the ready.

Monday:  Beck is quoting Thomas Paine; something about standing up to tyranny.  Here, in this context, the tyrant is liberal and progressive government.  It's seems lost on Glenn that the tyrant that Paine spoke of was King George The Insane.  Two very fucking different things!  G. Gordon Liddy is pimping gold in a commercial, reminding everyone that the value of the dollar is going to hell.  Glenn's back, warning his viewers that health care reform is not about doing what's right.  It's not about prohibiting abusive practices on the part of insurance companies hell bent on screwing us all the way to the poor house.  As Glenn tells it, it is a power grab by the Democrats in their demonic plan to take control of the country and deprive every last citizen of their personal freedom.  God help me!  Another buy gold commercial.  With a stack of books next to him as a prop, Glenn rails against the the student loan bill intended to take financial institutions out as the middle men and make college more affordable by eliminating interest on student loans.  Somehow this is evidence of more power grabbing and control mongering by "big government."  Fuck you Glenn.  Thirteen years later and I am still paying it off at 8% per annum.  Another gold commercial.  More paranoid prattling about big government and this quote:  "Your rights come from God, not a politician."  I don't even know where to begin in outing the utter fallaciousness of that statement.  Another gold commercial.  Glenn closes carrying on about some twisted crap about faith, hope and charity being the answer, the assumption being that government could never deliver on those things.

I turned off the television, shuddered, mixed a stout scotch and soda to cleanse my mental palate, and shuddered again.  I  doubted whether I could keep this up through to Friday.