Sunday, January 16, 2011

The NRA Is A Terrorist Organization

I believe words matter.  What you say can have an effect.  We saw that reality unfold last week when a Representative was gunned down at a meet and greet in her district.  A young man, delusional and misguided by the words of powerful people with bully podiums shot 20 innocents and killed 6, including a 9-year-old girl.

Words matter.

So it is not with a light heart that I say the following words:  "The NRA is a terrorist organization."

Those who purport to support the rights of law-abiding Americans to own firearms are really undermining the security of this nation, but opposing any gun legislation, which threatens their diminished manhood, found three inches short in their camos.

The gun, which the assailant used to shoot 20 people, had a 30 bullet clip, which originally was illegal under the assault weapons ban of the 1990's, but which was made legal again when the GOP bowed to NRA pressure in 2004.

Exploding bullets, Teflon-coated ammunition, and guns without locks have all been supported and promoted by the blood-thirsty anti-American crowd at the NRA.  No matter what logical legislation is proposed, whether it be background checks, or keeping the names and addresses of gun owners with the Department of Homeland Security, the NRA has unraveled, diluted, and defanged gun laws at every step of the way.

This band of thugs is no better than the street gangs roaming the streets of Los Angeles.  But instead of colors, these bozos wield Glocks and AK-47's.  Could someone tell me when using a Communist-era weapon made you patriotic?  Eh, Comrade?

It it time we call them out for what they are.  It it time to freeze their bank accounts, imprison their leaders, and seize their assets, just as we would do for any terrorist organization.

And once we have cleaned the streets of their ilk, perhaps we can get our country back.

It is the 21st century.  Isn't it high time a 9-year-old child doesn't have to worry she will be shot to death in a public place?

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

An Open Letter to Sarah Palin

Dear Ms. Palin:

You self-important, narcissistic, oversensitive twat.  How dare you make yourself the victim in the Tuscon shooting?  What gives you the right to take the spotlight and proclaim yourself the target of the shooting?  You, and your ilk, are responsible for such a vicious attack.

You placed cross hairs over Giffords' congressional district.

You stoked the hatred, urging your followers to reload.

You made the zombies who follow you believe the government is out to get them, when it is you who use and abuse these simpletons for your own self-aggrandizement and media whoring.

You need to crawl back to Alaska and hide in some dark hole until you find the remnant of humanity you long ago smothered.

Please do this mourning nation a favor and just shut up and go away.


The Angry Peasant

Friday, January 7, 2011

An Open Letter to John Boehner, Speaker of the 112th Congress of the United States of America

Dear Speaker Boehner:

First, let me congratulate you on your election as the Speaker of the 112th Congress.  It is certainly an achievement, and a first.  Over the last couple of years, we have seen a lot of barriers being broken.  First we had the first female Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi.  Then we had the the first African American President, Barack Obama.  And now, we have the first Orange American as Speaker of the House, you, Mr. Boehner.

But I kid, I kid.  I know it's not a laughing matter.  Tanning bed addiction is a serious illness affecting millions of Americans.  I desperately urge you to seek professional help to rid yourself of this monkey.  Perhaps you can do it on the buddy system.  Maybe you can find someone else just as addicted as you.  Snooki from the "Jersey Shore" might be a good sponsor on your way to freedom from "the bed."  You both seem to share the same dependencies.  You both drink.  You both smoke.  You both appear emotionally unstable.

Oh my God.  Snooki's your illegitimate daughter, isn't she?  Don't worry.  I won't tell the Mrs. Boehner.  Your secret's safe with me.

Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I wanted to talk to your briefly about what you plan to do over the next two years as the leader of both the House of Representatives and the de facto leader of the Republican Party.

You made a solemn promise to the millions of zombies who elected you last November that you would balance the budget, reduce the deficit, and bring order back to Washington.  And I, sir, and behind you on this.  For although we come from opposite sides of the political spectrum, my corner being occupied by educated, erudite, thoughtful Americans, and yours being  populated by, well, frankly nut jobs escaped from the asylum, we can come together for the good of this country and restore our nation to what is was before you and your cohorts screwed it up in the first place.

I would like to offer a humble suggestion for where you can cut some of that $100 billion from the budget you promised.  It is an easy cut.  It is one, which I am sure all of those in the Tea Party will be behind.  And the best part is, it won't hurt the poor.

Just like we put a cap on Social Security contributions, it is time to put a cap on Social Security benefits.

It's simple.  All we need to do is cut benefits for anyone making over the poverty line in retirement income, and phase benefits out completely by double or triple that threshold.  It's a no brainer.

The poor elderly, those who rely on these benefits to survive, will not see one dime cut, and you will make friends of them forever.  They are a loyal bunch--much like a gang of small dogs.  If you are kind to them, they will vote for you again and again.  Of course, if you kick them, they will bite your nuts off faster than, well, a chihuahua.

By setting these caps, we will not only save Social Security for future generations, but we will help balance both the federal and state budgets.  We will save trillions and protect our legacy for our grandchildren.

And once we have protected Social Security, we can move on to Medicare.  Just like capping benefits before saved the day, limiting Medicare payouts to only the very poor will restore a balanced budget without any need for new taxes.

I am sure if you examine this proposal carefully, you will see the wisdom of it.

And I am certain all those in the Tea Party will be glad to make a bit of sacrifice to insure the security of our nation.

Go ahead and ask them.  You look like a fit guy.  I am sure you can outrun an angry mob propelled by government-provided scooters and wheelchairs.


The Angry Peasant

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


Well, it is January 5, 2011, and it is Armageddon.  Not the final battle between good and evil portended by the Left Behind series, or the epic showdown between the Sith and the Jedi foretold in the Star Wars saga.  No, this is the face off between the forces of sanity and just down right tea baggery.

Today the 112th Congress convenes, and Speaker John Boehner receives the gavel from Nancy Pelosi.

We have been promised the ultimate dog and pony show for the next two years.  We have been told they will repeal Obamacare, cut the budget, reduce the deficit, and bring accountability back to Washington.

Pretty much the same spiel they promised the last time, but utterly failed to deliver.

But unlike most, I do not shudder at the impending self-destruction about to befall.  Instead I take a realistic look at the kabuki theater we are about to endure for the next two years.

Over the next 22 months we will be treated to a spectacle befitting Telemundo on a Saturday night.  There will be drama, suspense, and intrigue.  But mostly, there will be gridlock.  For the next two years, nothing will get done, nada, zip, zilch.

Well, that isn't entirely true.

There will be lots of bills introduced, and many of them will pass the House.  Some will even pass the Senate.  But they will all have a few themes in common.

Most legislation will fall into one of three categories in the months to come.  There will be the "pathetic base pandering", the "ridiculously obvious", and the "completely useless" bills.

The base pandering bills will be nothing more than red meat to the tea baggers who elected the 112 Congress.  They will be bills for show only, and will have no chance in the proverbial Hell where Glenn Beck resides of passing.  An example of such bills will be seen on January 12, when the House will vote to repeal Health Care Reform.  It will go nowhere.  The Senate won't pass it, and even if the Senate had a collective brain fart, the President would veto it.

The ridiculously obvious bills will be those introduced to address a non-existent problem.  They will be so innocuous and self evident, that they will pass both chambers easily, and the President will sign them, hailing the bipartisanship Washington is now showing.  A shining exemplar of such a bill is a proposal soon to be introduced to require any presidential candidate to show proof of United States birth.  It's already basically in the Constitution. It would be like passing a law forbidding children for running for federal elected office.  It's just window dressing on the whorehouse which is C Street.

Then there are the completely useless bills, which will have so many loopholes as to be completely functionless.  They will become law, because the Democrats will see they have no teeth and are basically harmless, but will provide political cover to show Washington is working again.  Such a bill is the proposed cap on spending, which would basically prevent any deficit spending not related to defense or security, and not enacted during a time of war.  If you haven't noticed, we have two lovely wars right now, so this one is a no brainer.

Of course there will be budget battles, and the Republicans will defund everything from science to children, forever invoking the Baby Jesus, freedom, and the Beaver--the TV show, not the anatomical obsession of at least 50% of Republicans (the other 50% are more interested in Dick, the organ, not the old VP).  But as they slash and burn, hopefully my fellow Americans will see the Congress they got either by voting or not voting in the midterms.  And then, perhaps, they might wake up and do the right thing in 2012.

Of course, I also still believe in Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, and Leprechauns, so I would take my prognostications with a pinch of salt.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

An Open Letter to NOM (National Organization for Marriage)

Dear Mr. Brown, President & Ms. Gallagher, Chairman National Organization for Marriage:

I wanted to thank you for all of your efforts protecting marriage.  I also wanted to especially thank you for your efforts now to protect children.

I see that you have launched a new effort to protect children from foul language.  It seems that some activists have decided to use children for shock value in their latest Internet ad campaign to promote marriage equality.  While exploiting children is nothing new--look whom I am telling--using them to spout filthy adult language is.  I mean, have you ever heard children on a playground?  Their angelic voices never use foul words.  They only use the purest and most innocent of language, that is if you consider most of the words used by Chris Rock on an HBO special chaste and uncontaminated.

With all the money you spent in 2008, 2009, and 2010 to defeat gay marriage, gay everything-but-marriage, and simply gay rights of any kind, how much did you spend on children?  Have you always had a soft spot in your hearts for children, or is this a newly found obsession?  I mean given both of your predilections, I would think you would steer clear of children altogether, lest you find yourself in some sort of situation, which you cannot control.

With all the millions you, and your cohorts, like the Mormon and Catholic Churches, spent protecting marriage from the gay, how much did you actually spend protecting existing marriages?  How much money did you give to a struggling family, looking for work, housing, or food?  How much of that Christian money did you actuallly spend on Christian charity?

And how much money did you spend protecting children back then?  How many millions did you fork over to provide free meals to underprivileged children or textbooks to kids without any?  How much did you spend helping a special needs child pass a difficult subject, so he or she was able to continue with school and get the education, which would be needed to get a better job?  How much did you really care about the kids, when you get down to it?

I also would like to ask why you continually pick on single parent households.  I hear you want to provide every child with a father and mother, as if a mother- or father-only household is an anathema.  My brother and I, having both grown up in a single-parent home, find your attack on children of divorce and death most distasteful.

If you wish to protect children, might I suggest you use your considerable talents and resources to stop the real threats to children in this world:  land mines, famine, war, pestilence, child trafficking, child labor, and poverty.  Of course, to attack any of these real problems, you would have to change your focus from an abstract boogey man, and focus instead on tangible issues, which you, as consumers and shareholders, have contributed to over the last century.

I guess if you decided to really work to protect children, you would have to stop pretending to be Christian, and actually be Christian.  After all, we all know how much Jesus devoted to proecting marriage, stopping abortion, and persecuting the gays in his ministry.  And all that junk he said over and over again about rich people paying their fair share, helping others, and loving one another were just window dressing so he could promote his real agenda.

Bilking people out of millions by exploiting their irrational fears and prejudices in order to line your pockets.

I believe I speak for Jesus when I say "fuck you."


The Angry Peasant

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Philadelphia Story

This evening we went to our second holiday party, driving to the nearby Cheltenham suburb of Philadelphia to meet up with a long lost friend.

The party was quite the event. It was a who's who of holiday cheer. There was Danny Bonaduce, or at least a guy who looked like a much less rough version of the "Partridge Family" child star. There was Larry Flynt, or at least a much more mobile, less morbidly-obese version of the porn kingpin. And finally there was someone, who looked like someone I used to know, or someone really famous, although I couldn't quite put my finger on who that was. So after very little debate, I just settled on Bill Frist as the original to his Doppelgänger.

Aside from the two hosts and another friend, whom I hadn't seen in many years, I knew no one at the very crowded and very smokey party--shortly after we had arrived, a log fell from the fire, and filled the living room with wood smoke. I spent much of the party rotating from table to table, eating cheese, dips, pigs in a blanket, and whatever else I could stuff my face with. I couldn't drink, because I was driving. Have you ever tried a holiday party without liquor? It was painful.

Although I may have been bored, finding myself clinging to one of the three friends I knew, spending much of the evening listening to the antics of Kate Plus Eight and my friend's lack of a love life, my partner had no problem mingling. He worked the room, talking to people I barely noticed, let alone could hold captive for a long conversation. By the end of the evening it seemed he had learned the life stories of most of the guests. I always feel like a wall flower in comparison to him.

My husband is too gregarious. Earlier in the evening he disappeared in a liquor store while I was shopping for Tanqueray. When I finally found him, he had turned into some kind of discount sommelier for a low-end state store, giving free advice to a stranger on a white wine pairing for a Chicken McNugget dinner.

By the end of the evening, we were visited by Kris Kringle, who ho ho'ed his way through the party, and a 10-year-old single malt. Suddenly every terrible Christmas memory of my childhood was explained. Santa stumbled his way home to rescue Mrs. Claus from her paramour elves as we made our way home.

And as I sit here writing this, the cats are in front of the fire, and I am finally having my Christmas martini.

Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night.

Fear of Flying

First it was a mechanical problem, which forced us to change planes.  Then it was air traffic control, holding us because of volume and weather.  Then a passenger with a panic attack forced a return to the gate.  Finally, another delay by air traffic control had us sit again with engines stooped on the tarmac.

You may have hears that "Gilligan's Island" was a metaphor for Dante's Inferno.  You may also know that Sweeney Todd was a treatise on the nineteenth English class system.  But tonight's flight was an allegory for the current American political system.

From the guy in first who would stop futzing with his iPad prior to takeoff, to the woman who wouldn't shut off her phone when told, first class is filled with those who bought themselves the privilege, those who had connections with those who had the status, and those of us who paid our dues by flying a quarter million miles in a year.

Tea baggers will find themselves in the halls of Congress come January, due mostly to their inexperience and the electorates incompetence.  And like this flight tonight, the will be nothing but delays, ground stops, and aborted take offs and landings.

Of course many of the Lipton Crew will have nothing to do with abortions, because their insides are a dry as Hills Like White Elephants.

The calls to shutdown the government, slash spending, and "save" social security are already echoing through the marble hallways, even before Eric Cantor and John Boehner have taken the gavel and whip from Nancy Pelosi and the Democrats.  You know, with all those closeted homosexuals in the Republican Party, that whip will spend a record short time in the hands of Mr. Cantor, and an exceedingly long time at the House on C Street.

And just like this flight, it will be a painful journey, with a brief payoff.  The flying time is just one hour tonight. The time spent on the tarmac was almost three.

Come October, most will regret the imbeciles put in control, just like most on this flight regret the idiot who decided to fly, even though he has claustrophobia.

And then the real fun will begin.  Because unlike this flight, you will not be getting free peanuts and Coke.  You will be dining on Friskies and freezing by the candle light.

I raise my first class glass to Michele Bachmann and her merry band of nut jobs.