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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Fool

I am a moderate. Most of the time. When the Right gives a tax cut to the progeny of the Wal Mart dynasty, I cringe. When the left makes it un pc for me to say the word God in my own church, I want to vomit. What is going on? Is it really the end of days? Are the Republicans and the Democrats two heads of the same dragon? Is the media really liberal, or is it just a vehicle for more sales, more fear, and more control? Where is the middle ground? Where is the sanity? Where is my grandfather who got a bayonet in the stomach during WW2 and retired making 5 dollars and fifty cents an hour and all the time smiling like the cheshire cat? Why can't a public school teacher get elected president? I pray for serenity and I'm still white bread house nigger scum in the grand spectacle of the race to get more, more, more for your dollar and scrape enough change together to put Phillip Morris's great grandchildren through cotillion with my brown lung butter and the cancerous sores forming at the corners of my frowning face. I watched C span last night sheerly for the sedating effect of the pedant discoursing on the intelligence community that he's envious of for not putting enough text about subversive elements in Guatemala on the internet and who the fuck really cares anyway? I tell you who cares. The thousands of soldiers hunkered down in Babylon bleeding for us and dying for us and procuring another pint of oil and prestige for the bloated elephantitis head of state that doesn't give two shits about even serving a day in the service of his country in a war zone that has long segued into peace because we decided to leave well enough the hell alone. Peace? Upside down broken cross standing for sodomy, sloth, and the egoistic crusade of a generation of failed marriages, spiritual bankruptcy and the trouncing of every piece of character that this nation retained at one time. Fuck Bill Clinton. Fuck W. Fuck the whole lot of self serving, self interested glory hounds hot on the trail of stock tips and trips to the Caymans where they hide what really matters to the majority. Money. Cash rules everything around me and never forget it, cause if you do you're liable. Lawyers and the reek of ambulance exhaust. Can you tell I'm a gen Xer? Can you tell I don't have a lot of faith in the future? Will my generation really be able to turn the red tide of fate or will we make the same mistakes as our parents? Gimme the Star Spangled Banner anyday over Lil John and Tommy Lee and the rest of the no talent sequels to American Idol prepackaged for the consumption of obese welfare mothers and chronic masturbatory teens bringing up the rear and ready to procreate with the devil for fifteen minutes on the boob tube. My father, My father, why hast thou forsaken us?

--VB