I write because I’ve heard enough from Neil Visalvanich. His witty and gentle analogies failed before the election and now, more than ever, they look like a pathetic plea for sympathy (“Electoral Heartbreak,” Daily Nexus, Oct. 4). Can’t one of you whiny, donkey-loving crybabies drop the Kleenex and get pissed off? Visalvanich’s column of pitiful drivel bores me as much as Kerry bored independent voters. His indiscriminate loyalty to his party is exactly what quickly corrodes progress until the stench of stagnation suffocates us all (a case in point, the Republican Party).
Once a registered Democrat, I now have as much loyalty to the Democratic Party as Bill Clinton has to his wife. However, something must be made perfectly clear: The world is coming to an end. America is the most powerful country in the world, and it is run and inhabited by a bunch of moronic apes. This is dangerous. Bush and his cronies are nothing more than David Koresh’s creepy cult, but, of course, with more “morally acceptable” morals and with a much larger arsenal of weapons. The Republican Party is essentially run by a bunch of decrepit rich, white men, an action hero and that saucy little pickle Ann Coulter. Get mad.
Dick Cheney is the pimp and Bush is his whore. Bush gets on his knees for Big Oil, turns tricks for Big Coal and even bends over for Big Logging. Then, he runs home to Big Daddy Dicky for sloppy seconds and to drop off the loot. Yes, my friends, we live in a herpes-infested society, and our president is spreading it wider than Sharon Stone’s legs.
I’m not in the business of predicting, but Miss Cleo is, so I gave her a call, and it went something a little like this: The next four years will be hell, says she. Will Bush earn the trust of the 54 million people who voted against him? asks I. Miss Cleo retorts: ha, ha. Quite simply – no! And the Democrats and Anti-Bushers shouldn’t trust him. They’ve been told that they’re morally inferior, which will only more sharply divide the nation, she explained. I told her that her commercials don’t do her justice. She thanked me, gave me the number to her private line and then hung up.
There’s a stench in the air and it smells like civil war. The Dems have the red states flanked and an implosion is on the brink. The persistent and ghoulish Osama bin Laden is ruling from his kingdom in a cave, while his beard looks just uncannily immaculate (not in a George Michael kind of a way but in a Gandalf kind of a way). Bush could get lost in it, and, honestly, I wish he would.
The war in Iraq is as messy as a baby’s unchanged diapers and will soon be as messy as Cheney’s unchanged Depends. Worst of all, it hasn’t even cut down on my gas bill at all. Electric cars are ugly and small. Driving one of these golf carts would make getting swallowed by the sea of SUVs inevitable. Selling democracy in Iraq is as futile as selling a boar hog to a dairy farmer – or sanity to the Bible Belt – or rationality to an evangelical Christian. But I kid the evangelicals only because I love them. And I love them only because I’m scared to death of them. Indeed.
So, you Dems, fear not that crooked little swine turd George W. Bush, because anger is on the march – a far more powerful thing than loyalty. You fight fire with fire, as it were, until those greedy warmongers are as scorched as the Iraqi landscape. Get Mad. If my pessimism and anger feels all too depressing for you, it should. If you do not feel shitty every day for at least one second knowing there’s pig vomit in the White House, then you need to be cut off your mommy’s little helpers. Start marching now, folks, so that in four years we don’t have an absolute disaster of an election like the one we saw Tuesday (enter: F