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Making Amerika Great One Swastika at a Time

aunt-beulahBy Aunt Beulah

Aunt Beulah is a former comatose pseudonym who woke from her slumber when the country lobbed a grenade through her nursing home window.

Is it not refreshing to see America and its citizens finally paving The Path to the Moral High Ground? It’s about time we jumped on High Horse and galloped over the Constitution of the United States of America. Just between you and me, I feel the US Constitution and Bill of Rights, not to mention the Declaration of Independence, are pretty lame. After all, the Founding Fathers of this country couldn’t even be bothered to establish a State religion or mention Christianity at all in any of these documents. I’m almost positive that was an oversight, although I can’t be sure as I wasn’t there and there was no Twitter. Perhaps they were sidetracked while separating church from state and couldn’t find their way back to the pew to ask for guidance. Damn Deists. Horrifying Humanists. Sensible Secularists.  What were they thinking by leaving the construal of those documents to the commoners?!

I, for one, think we owe white nationalist groups, evangelicals and self-abused women a debt of gratitude for electing someone as our president with the fortitude to bypass the governing documents of this country so he can make America great again. Someone like Donald Trump. Or Donald Trump. His thin skin, tiny tweeting fingers, and keen grasp on reality was instrumental in illuminating the malignant tumor of hate festering under our noses in the dank swamp of America’s fringe. Putrefying long before political correctness drove it underground, that oozing tumor popped to the surface like a pus pocket, spraying the country with a sickly yellow infection that turned half of this country into a cesspool of hate-filled cholera. What a relief that the tumor is free at last. Now we can get on with bleaching the country.

Did I mention that a Big Thanks also goes out to those who “voted their conscience”? Not sure what lurks in the gray matter above those brain stems but their moral compasses tossed them Through the Looking Glass into the clutches of the charlatan Red King. At least they can bury the Bill of Rights with their scruples intact so all is right in their world. Without actually checking the Trump box on the ballot, they guaranteed their conservative values would remain mired in the medieval bogs of millennials past but can say without blinking, “Don’t look at me! I didn’t vote for him!”

Lastly, kudos to those who sat out the election in their living rooms watching The Price is Right or Let’s Make a Deal or Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, because they didn’t like either candidate, or any candidate for that matter. They all had at least one dog in the fight but won’t realize it until the canine crawls bleeding onto the porch and dies at their feet. Guess what, you lost your right to lament the state of the country from this point forward so don’t even go there. Stick your head in the cat box and think about what you’ve done.

On a particularly low note, with the KKK on the loose again we should give serious consideration to repealing every civil rights act back to1866 beginning with 1964 and the Fair Housing Act of 1968. The Republican power is there. Hell, we chose the right man for the job – Donald Trump has a 43-year head start in that arena (forgive my language, ladies. I don’t mean to make you swoon. You’ve probably run out of smelling salts by now what with the ribald, raucous rallies that swirled around The Elected One. But you shall overcome. Or be overcome by grabbing, trolling, vicious, self-entitled narcissists.)

I wonder… did we choose to erase fifty years of progress due to food additives? Or mind-numbing drugs? Perhaps we are simply waxing nostalgic and long for the Sundays when we packed our picnic baskets anticipating a bit of entertainment after church.  Still dressed in our Sunday best, we strolled to the town square to watch the torture and lynching of blacks while we ate lunch under the trees. The number of sub-humans and inferiors to choose from has grown exponentially to include all people of color and religious affiliations so there will be years of fun to be had after Sunday worship.

On Liberty Island stands a statue. Perhaps you know of it or have actually visited the site. Written on a bronze plaque attached to the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty is a sonnet by Emma Lazarus titled, “The New Colossus”. A section of the sonnet reads:

                      Give me your tired, your poor,

                        Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

                        The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

                        Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:

                        I lift my lamp beside the golden door. 

 

With the current climate of this country being what it is we should add a caveat: As long as “these” are white Christians and speak English, preferably without an accent (forgive me First Lady Elect). On a side note, Emma Lazarus was a New York City-born Jew, and a woman, from an immigrant family with roots in America that predate the American Revolution.

 

All of that being said, I congratulate us all for putting our best foot forward as the country aspiring to lead the free world with what we like to label as our Christian ideals. Way to trip and fall off the Plane of Values. This country, America, land of the free and home of the brave, was once a shining beacon to the world with a “lamp beside the golden door”. Wait, what do you mean no one can see the beacon through the fog of hate? Is the light on? Oh, Martin Luther King-on-a-tree-branch. Who forgot the match?

 

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Election Time

With that season of insanity upon us, with Rick Santorum flitting about uttering some of the most diabolical and divisive rhetoric imaginable, with Romney floundering about trying to  guess what his listeners want to hear (without much success), with Gingrich doing his politcal immitation of Don Rickles, with Ron Paul wandering about like the Mad Hatter, with Super Pacs undermining the strength of a once great nation, maybe it’s time just to look at a pretty picture. After all, there was a dance band on the Titanic.

John McCain to Enter Nursing Home!

Alright, alright . . . that may not be the appropriate headline, but it should be. The man has truly lost it. He has gone over the edge and is looking back at senility from the other side of the fence. It’s time to wipe the drool from his chin and strap him into his wheelchair. We knew he had fallen into the abyss when he picked Alaska’s State embarrassment, Sarah Palin, as his running mate and thus blew himself out of the race for the White House. But now, John McCain has truly cracked.

John finished at the bottom of his class at the Naval Academy so he has never been viewed as an intellectual behemoth. But just like rock breaks scissors, honor and character trump cranial horsepower, hence John prospered. Despite his well documented character failings over the years, I believed in him enough that I not only contributed to his 2000 campaign for President, I actually worked on his campaign team. But that was 2000 and ten ticks on the birthday calendar have gone by since then. Aging takes its toll on all of us lucky enough to live long enough. John is no exception.

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I Confess – I Don’t Get It

The Republicans seem to have finally settled on a consistent, repeatable message. In a word, it is “No”. The ongoing rejection of any and all ideas that come from their opponents allows them to unite and parrot the simple refrain of “No”. Never mind they not only refuse to move the country forward, they refuse to move it in any direction other than backwards. At least they’re united in their quest for political power even if it’s at the expense of the wellbeing of the country in which they live.

 With their Kentucky poster child Jim Bunning leading the way in the Senate and flesh eating John Boehner of Ohio, the hit man in the House, the Republican propaganda machine is stunningly successful in recruiting tea baggers to the cause. Some of these people not only have difficulty seeing their stances as sources of embarrassment, they actually take pride in repeating the hateful, short-sighted rhetoric they’ve taken in suppository form while watching the right wing media outlets. It goes to the highest levels of the Republican Party. In his current reelection campaign, even John McCain, the man that was once an American hero, now stoops to disgusting hate speak against our current President. Hate hides the real issues and hope is beaten to the ground like Rodney King.

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Talking to Stumps

Sure, I’m generalizing. So be aware I acknowledge there are exceptions to what I’m about to say. At last count there were twelve. Not bad for a group of a few tens of millions. It’s increasingly difficult to pick a descriptive name for the group. Call them FOXites, tea baggers, right wing-nuts, religious zealots, conservatives or Republicans, each group disavows automatic inclusion in the other, but the reality is that by superimposing each group’s demographic over the others, the boundaries are barely blurred. Sadly for some (namely conservatives and Republicans), their labels used to carry an element of pensive respect, but those were the days of William F. Buckley and other educated, intelligent icons of their philosophical sect. Buckley and his ilk have been replaced by the likes of Beck, Limbaugh, Hannity, O’Reilly and numerous other doctrinal windbags that don’t even believe in their own theater. They pander to the under-educated, intellectually lazy “patriots” that find a three piece jigsaw puzzle a formidable mental challenge. They’re making a mockery out of the American political system by feeding nonsensical populist rubbish into the unfiltered minds of the philosophical zombies that roam the range contributing little beyond mental defecant to the discussion of the substantive issues confronting America today.

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Babs’ Quote of the Day – 2010.2.1

I have a two-year-old granddaughter whose favorite word in the whole-wide-world is – you guessed it – NO. It matters not what you ask her or tell her. Maybe you just look at her cross-eyed or with a smile on your face. You can say, “Please”, “Thank you”, or “Do it now or Raggedy Andy goes to the trash can.” Her response is predictable. “NO!” Not just “NO”, but “NO” with a twist to her little body or her arm raised, palm out, shaking her tiny hand or head down and stomping her miniature feet. Body language is such a powerful form of communication. It tells you so much more than words. I suspect she watches Republicans on C-SPAN while her parents are sleeping.

Lon Cheney and Jon Kyle’s Brain

I grew up in that time period when television was still a luxury. I still remember the small, black and white sets where the “vertical hold” was a critical adjustment. A slight deviation on the setting and the picture would roll up or down and drive my father whacky as he’d scramble to adjust it as he missed Bobby Lane’s long pass to Jim Doran as his Lions beat the Cleveland Browns on the way to the NFL championship in 57. My dad used to tune the TV with his right hand; he’d slap the side of the box until the screen finally held still for another minute or two.

It was a magic period in the land of television as the studios experimented with equipment, techniques, scripts and even shows broadcast in color.  Not many people could afford the color sets, but the color wasn’t too hot anyway so it was no big deal. It was a time when many of the shows were broadcast live.

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