Super Bowl 50 Not So Super for Jeb!

 Posted by at 2:05 PM on February 10, 2016
Feb 102016

Super Bowl 50

What 112 million people were watching Sunday

During Super Bowl 50, when Bernie Sanders was the Denver Bronco defense and Jeb! Bush was the Carolina Panthers offense, somebody thought it was a good idea to spend $5 million to run a commercial for Jeb!, featuring his idiot brother. Jimmy Kimmel provides the subtext.

Is Jeb’s handlers learning yet? Somewhere a village is missing its idiot

That’s like putting the shark from Jaws in a Charlie the Tuna commercial. No wonder Bush is still mired in single digit territory in the national polls.

Super Bowl 50 shark

Team Jeb! is going to need a bigger boat

Jeb! did manage, barely,  to come in fourth place in last night’s New Hampshire primary. But he was in a virtual tie with Marco Roboto, with each garnering 11% of the vote. Jeb!would have been fifth but for Marco’s spectacular flame-out during Saturday night’s GOP presidential debate. 

Bush & CO. spent $36 million in New Hampshire alone. That doesn’t come close to mitigating the effects of the Republican Supreme Court’s risible Citizens United ruling, but it does go towards proving that money can’t buy you love.

Lifeboat Ethics For Compassionate Conservatives?

 Posted by at 10:12 AM on December 20, 2015
Dec 202015

There are no Compassionate Conservatives in lifeboats…
or anywhere else.

Compassionate Conservatives?Confronted with the ethics of other in a lifeboat of their own making, five “leaders” tell it like it is. . .

In Alfred Hitchcock’s classic 1944 film, Lifeboat, a few British and U.S. civilians, a German combatant, and a couple merchant marines are stuck in a lifeboat* together after their ship and a U-boat sink each other in combat.  It was highly controversial back then, and our updated contemporary version is too;  it goes like this.

It seems the USS GOP, an aged and fossilized frigate of the past, had been gradually filling up with bilge from Fox News and Rightwing radio for decades, but nobody thought to purge any of the foul brew until it was far too late.  The GOP began floundering after Captains Bush and Cheney abandoned ship in 2008.  As she lay wallowing keel up, a lifeboat of the GOP was launched containing a few of her “finest” officers.  Our metaphorical film begins with this lifeboat drifting aimlessly in a moral sea of polarized propaganda.


The scene begins with “Rubio,” the spawn of illegal Cuban immigrants turned naturalized Americans, being pulled aboard the lifeboat, but when the “Others” see he is kinda brown, they accuse him of being a possible Muslim terrorist infiltrator, despite his finely tailored Cuban fishing ensemble, and it’s suggested he be thrown back into the shark infested waters.  He denies being a Muslim or a terrorist, claiming instead to be a hapless immigrant patriot off a sinking Cuban fishing boat.  A vitriolic debate erupts with one Teddy Cruz, a creepy weakling derp with a smart mouth and an assault rifle, born in Canada of, yeah, another Cuban father, and an American mother;  but he demands this Cuban be thrown out of the boat to be eaten or to drown, whichever comes first.

Surprise surprise, some of the Others object!  And you might think, well hey, there’s some “compassion” for you right there;  but you would be wrong.  An obscenely wealthy real estate narcissist, Donald Trump, and a disgraced and bitter ex-CEO, Carly Fiorina— who conveniently speaks “Cuban”— instinctively realize they need someone to keep the boat clean for them, so serve them, to empty their shitpots;  they insist he be allowed to stay.
Ben Carson, a black man, who was allowed to stay because he was the GOP ‘s corpsman and seemed to know his way around the privatized medical kit, shrugs his agreement.  Cruz and Rubio are immediately put on salary by Trump to use the boat’s oars— not to make way— but to keep out any small-o “others”— you know— anyone lost at sea who may try to climb onboard.

Fiorina, it seemswhose primary concern at first was a run in her stocking, has managed to bring her luggage with her.  Soon it becomes apparent she is obsessed over (supposedly) having seen a video in which a fetus is sold one piece at a time by evil liberals. She claims to have the proof in her luggage, but can’t actually find it when asked, and her endless daily bleating about it provokes a series of escalating altercations with most of the men-Trump-who want to use her for bait use her for food when the time comes.

Our film then follows the lifeboat cohabitants as they attempt to organize and mete out their rations, set a course for still waters, green pastures, and, you know— coexist to stay alive.  With the exception of Trump, they start out being good-natured and optimistic about getting rescued and making their lives “great again.”

About every half hour Trump makes it clear to everyone that he is “astonishingly wealthy,” and if he gets all the food and fresh water he wants, he assures all of them that those who “treat him right” will later see his wealth “trickle down,” so to speak, upon them all.

In a grandiose ceremony, Trump writes a ridiculously large I.O.U to Cruz on a piece of toilet tissueif Cruz will provide him with all 99% of the lifeboat’s food and water.  Cruz and his assault rifle takes charge, rationing what little food and water they have accordingly, with 99% going to Trump, and the rest to himself, Fiorina, Carson, and Rubio.

As the days drift slowly on, the backstories of each of their characters are scrutinized;  divisions of race, religion, sex, economic status, and nationality are brought up from the dark depths to the surface.  But they soon descend into deception, fear-mongering, and ugly bigotry with each other.

Rubio, who has been secretly consulting a compass, wrests the assault rifle away from Cruz during one of their debilitating daily debates.  It turns out Cruz‘s assault rifle was never actually loaded, because he never had any real ammunition.

Early the next morning before the gray dawn, as the Others are sleeping fitfully, Carson, who has only survived onboard because of his skills with the knife he keeps up his sleeve— and more recently his drinking of copious amounts of seawater*— catches Rubio sneaking a sip of bottled water he had secreted in suitcoat of his tailored Cuban ensemble.

*The salinity of seawater is almost four times that of our bodily fluids.  Unchecked, the net transfer of water from the inside of your cells to the outside will cause the cells to shrink— and shrinkage is never good.  Dehydration sets in;  depleted body fluids;  muscle cramps;  dry mouth;  and yeah, thirst.

The body tries to compensate for the fluid loss by increasing the heart rate and constricting blood vessels to maintain blood pressure and flow to vital organs. You’re going to feel nausea, weakness, and delirium.

Thus Carson, babbling incoherent word salad about Rubio to his drowsy fellow travelers, is too delirious to be taken seriously;  they return to their slumber, even as Ben gets bumped off the stern, and quickly sinks out of site.

When a brutal sun eventually awakens the Others, and finding no one to carry away their fetid bedpans, they turn to question Rubio.  When they notice that his upper lip is actually sweating— like Richard Nixon’s used to do when he was lying— Cruz discovers his hoarded bottles of Poland Spring water in his jacket.  In a spasm of anger led by Fiorina, they descend upon him as a group, beating him with their fists and Fiorina’s luggage, and throw him overboard.
Then Trump personally strikes him numerous times with one of Ben‘s boots to prevent him from re-boarding and, as he struggles to stay afloat in the murky water, Trump, in mock disillusionment of Rubio‘s behavior, laments to Fiorina and Cruz: “He was such a terrible person. What a loser. What do you do with people like that?  What else can you do??  We have no choice!  We   have   no   choice.”

Rubio is suddenly bitten in half by a huge great white shark.


Within a few hours, the Others are spotted by yet another Cuban fishing boat, to which Rubio had been steering them.  But before they can be picked up, the fishing boat is sunk by smart bombs from a U.S. drone.  A  lone survivor, a frightened young Cuban seaman floating in the wreckage, grabs hold of their lifeboat.  The surviving passengers begin debating whether to bring him aboard, or just bash his face in with a boat oar, when they are distracted by another approaching vessel— the USS Iowa.  The Cuban sailor, seeing his chance, suddenly pulls a gun on them, but is surprised by Fiorina‘s luggage against his skull, and is disarmed.  Cruz gets the sailor’s handgun and gives it to Trump.

The sailor asks, “Aren’t you going to kill me?”  Trump waves the gun at him and mocks him in a high pitched whine, saying, “‘Aren’t you going to kill me?’  Didn’t you try to kill me??  What can you do with people like that?  What else can you do??  We have no choice!”

Lifeboat Ethics?

How can we expect rich white men, who are not even prepared to pay their fair share of taxes to help those less fortunate than themselves, to suddenly decide to give up their lives for people that they may very well despise— brown people, black people, lesbians, Muslims, Syrians, atheists;  others.

Tough times call for tough decisions, and after the last Republican debate it’s clear they think things couldn’t be worse.  We’re at WAR they said.  Immigrants are flooding across every border day and night, 24-7.  And even if only ONE OF THEM eventually turns out to be a terrorist, well, we’re all fucked.

It’s painful to live in fear.  But Republicans, it seems, will not live any other way, refusing to see the world as nothing but a threatening, horrifying catastrophe;  with death and destruction looming over every new horizon.  You know, they only need enough “other” people to keep them comfortable in their quarters, to bring them their food and water, to keep their boat from sinking.

What do you do with people like that?



Three Things To Remember About JEBOOsh

 Posted by at 9:57 AM on July 14, 2015
Jul 142015

Fool Me Bush

If you really want to feel the BOOsh, you must click it.


It’s pretty simple, really; if you don’t remember how the pit of your stomach felt when George H W. Bush, and George W. Bush won their respective nominations and subsequent elections, then maybe you haven’t actually discovered the “pit” in your stomach. It’s an ill-defined region of the lower abdomen, regarded as the visceral repository of strong feelings, especially anxiety.

I know I have one, because whenever I see a political poll showing Jeb Bush leading that ever-proliferating pack of Republican tools, it immediately regurgitates a loop of his little brother, struggling to get through that simple aphorism, and I get the queasies bad.

I realize the head of Trump Entertainment Resorts will continue to blow up the Republican primary process until we are all nauseated. But eventually, one of those clowns will manage to wade through their political slime-fest and onto the convention floor, to accept the nomination.

Although it seems like that event is a long way off, already there have been one or two nanoseconds when the pit of my stomach reminds me— it could happen again— and sends my imagination spinning wild into a future where stupefying things happen: another Bush is handed the presidency by the Supreme Court; more young Americans dying in four, maybe eight more years of senseless oil wars; all manner of social and cultural backwardness, including the complete destruction of the “middle” class; and the depths of political despair. By God. We can’t let that happen. We can’t get fooled again.


 Posted by at 1:38 PM on April 23, 2011
Apr 232011

Had any wealth “trickle-down on you lately, pilgrim?
(If you want to smell the avarice, you must click it.)

No mortal who knows God and seeks to do the divine will
can stoop to
engage in the oppressions of wealth.
No noble man will strive to accumulate
riches and amass wealth-power
by the enslavement or unfair exploitation of his
brothers in the flesh.
Riches are a moral curse and a spiritual stigma when they

are derived from the sweat of oppressed mortal man.
All such wealth should be
restored to those who have thus been robbed
or to their children and their children’s
An enduring civilization cannot be built upon
the practice of
defrauding the laborer of his hire.

—Jesus, speaking in The Urantia Papers

Saved By Zeros

 Posted by at 9:27 AM on June 6, 2009
Jun 062009

I will conquer
Space around me
So maybe I’ll win
Saved by zero
Maybe I’ll win
Saved by zero

The Fixx

GOP squares If you want to smell the fear you must click it

Zero:  A contemptibly worthless, undistinguished person…

The Republican Party is rife with Zeros these days. The nine nincompoops above are just a random gaggle selected from the dozens and dozens of them pining to spend time in the GOPper boxes of national leadership-ness-ness.  The assortment of  war criminals, gas bags, elderly has-beens, living and dead, and a burgeoning bunch of weiner wanna-bees will continue to plague the nation until the electorate relegates them to the slag-heap of history.

Why are there so few qualified leaders?  Because the number of capable leaders has never exceeded one percent of the population.  That makes it even more critical that we elect only the best qualified individuals to leadership positions in society.

Leadership is vital to progress.  Wisdom, insight, and foresight are indispensable to the endurance of any nation, and just now all such essential qualities are in short supply in our government, despite the fact that Barack Obama shows every sign of being able to fill the shoes of leadership we so desperately need.

Obama’s speech in Cairo is a stirring demonstration of his willingness to confront the changes that are needed now, but it is just the beginning of his efforts to grow into the enormous job confronting the United States and the world.  We certainly haven’t exhausted our national stamina and courage in confronting our many problems just yet, but if you’re not already doing so, it is time to add real prayer to our arsenal of hope.  Pray for our country, pray for our people, pray for our president.  And if you’re feeling really generous, pray for our world.  And remember, prayer is not a technique of escape from conflict, but rather a stimulus to growth in the very face of conflict.  Dig it.

Society is the offspring of age upon age of trial and error; it is what survived the selective adjustments and readjustments in the successive stages of mankind’s agelong rise from animal to human levels of planetary status. The great danger to any civilization at any one moment is the threat of breakdown during the time of transition from the established methods of the past to those new and better, but untried, procedures of the future.
The Urantia Book

Dick Sorta Comes Out…

 Posted by at 11:14 AM on May 27, 2009
May 272009

gaydickIf you wanna see it good, you must click it

Seems like you can’t turn on the tee vee these days without being assaulted by the tortured logic of Dick Cheney.  His recent flailings have been focused on massaging a flaccid argument for brutality against America’s foe’s, especially the one’s we already have in leg irons.  But now he’s managed to interject himself into yet another battle raging on the front lines of the war on culture culture war.  Sure, closeted gay Republicans have become passé in Washington again, since the pre-trial sequestering of the Bush sock puppet down in Dallas, but Dick is on the loose again, and this time he’s got a Sildenafil Citrate chubby for a sweet young stud named Preston.

Like me, you may already be wondering how Lord Vader thinks he’s keeping his gayness secret by appearing on the cover of a gay mag and announcing same.  But then, you also probably thought Dick’s “undisclosed locations” were just hide-aways for national security purposes.  Or that his ludicrous defense of torture is flamingly hypocritical.  But then, psychopathic chickenhawk ( yes—  it’s a double entendre* ) liars like Dick Bruce Cheney are simply impossible to categorize in any meaningful way;  even though a lot of Americans are determined to seeing a court of law do just that:  Dick Cheney: America’s Biggest War Criminalever.

Think I’ll hole up and read “PRIDE & GREED: Why Dick Keeps It In the Closet,” just for the giggles.  God knows there’s nothing funny about the prospect of having to watch old Dick whore around with the MSM rent boys for the next eight years, continually attempting to justify his insane view of reality.

*   Chickenhawk is a political epithet used in the United States to criticize a politician, bureaucrat, or commentator who strongly supports a war or other military action, yet who actively avoided military service when of draft age.  Chickenhawk or chicken hawk is also slang used in American and British gay culture to denote older males who prefer younger males for partners.

They’re Here To Fux You Up

 Posted by at 9:43 AM on May 1, 2009
May 012009



They cannot lead.

They will not follow.

They refuse to cooperate.

Fine, assholes.  Let’s take a look at your bullshit charge of socialism.

Robert Scheer.

Let the record show that it was George W. Bush, the rich Texas Republican, who brought socialism to America. …  The government takeover of the banking and automobile industries not only happened on President Bush’s watch, it was also the deregulatory mania of this president’s family, beginning with his father, which took this country into such starkly unfamiliar territory.

You’ve got a choice.  You don’t have to participate in America’s Socialism.

Stop using the people’s airwaves.  They are a tool afforded you by the socialist government you decry.

Stop driving on America’s roads.  They are the result of America’s collective tax dollars, clearly the fruits of socialism.

Stop using the U.S. Postal Service.  They are a subsidized socialist enterprise cooked up by the American people.

In fact, consider getting the fuck OUT.

I mean, socialism has even brain-washed Christians.

Did you know there are even Christian Socialists?

Maybe Rush Limpbot will buy an island somewhere,
and you can all immigrate there, take a loyalty oath,
and form yourselves a little wingnut paradise.

wingnutisland(Click it)