Republican Asshats Make Speeches
Current mood: hungry
Category: News and Politics

The Democratic talking heads are up late tonight trying to figure out what the speeches at the Republican National Convention tonight meant. One of the key points they are making is that when you take out the attacks on Obama and the flag waving and the USA USA chants, there really was no indication of what the Republican plan to improve the economy for working class people is.

            I disagree strenuously. Each one of the speakers tonight made the Republican economic plan clear as day: sometimes things are stated so simply we refuse to accept them...

            Huge tax breaks for the wealthiest Americans and the corporations that pay no taxes anyway and sharp cuts in social programs that serve the middle, working and lower classes. That's it, the Republican economic plan, Same as it ever was. They've never said it was anything different and they won't tonight, either.

            They believe only the wealthy know how to manage money and therefore we should give them all the money and allow them to let it trickle down to us. We're dumb animals only fit to work in their factories and (wait a minute, wait a minute, there aren't even factories left because they took tax breaks to move those factories to foreign countries) mow their lawns.

            Here are some nice moments from the Republican love machine. Keep in mind one of their unifying themes was that they are for the "real people."

           Mike Huckabee stating that there are millions of Americans out there that need to quit waiting for the government to make them rich and start actually doing something. This drew thunderous applause because it's code language for "hey, black people, get off your lazy butts and get into the nearest McDonalds and start making us some fries."That's why the applause was so loud. It goes over big in country clubs, too.

            My favorite insult, though, was demeaning Obama's community organizer experience in Chicago, a city whose very mention drew hisses and boos from the assembled hillrods.Number one, Chicago is the greatest city in the world, bar none, and it's not even close. Secondly, insulting community organizers was also a very thinly veiled racist attack. Community organizers are invaluable in minority communities because often the money that should get there, doesn't. Community organizers are responsible for advocating for causes like the homeless, better schools, access to health care, mental health programs and violence against women and children. You know, the kind of shit Republicans could care less about. A major salute from me to all the community organizers out there doing the dirty work to raise funds and awareness for all the people left behind by the trickle down strategy. Without you the misery that has been caused by an economic strategy that skews the system so the wealthy get all the benefits and shoulder none of the responsibilities would only be worse for the weakest among us. You're a pig, Rudy Giuliani, and when you took those tax funds that were meant to establish a headquarters for 9/11 and used it to lease an apartment where your cronies partied it up with prostitutes you proved you're one of the biggest scumbags in history.

            So, Willard Romney, believer in a religion founded by a nutbag who claims to have found the documents he founded the religion on in the 19^th century in Missouri, here's one of your gems. Attacking unions. Specifically the teachers union. Claiming that teachers are more concerned with their own welfare than their students is insulting and demeaning to a group of hard working people who do a thankless job often in impossible conditions because the funding is held back or diverted to corporate tax breaks. Then you champion school choice, which is really code for giving tax money for religious nuts to send their kids to religious schools.  What you didn't mean was school choice for the Chicago kids who protested the detestable condition of their schools this week by getting on busses and registering en masse at the New Trier school district in Evanston.  You're a whack job, Romney, and if you believe Jesus came to this continent after he died to minister to the Natives and the scriptures he taught were uncovered in a back yard in the 19^th century leading to the creation of a pedophilic cult you're fucking nuts.

            Finally, the coup de gracie of the evening… Sarah Palin.

            I have no opinion about her. I get the same feeling from eating Trix cereal. I'm not sure what that means but that's my response.

            That was it, pretty much.

            So, I disagree with everyone who said the Republicans haven't stated their economic plan. They have.

            Just give the rich more. That'll solve the problem created by not giving the rich enough. And it's a little bit of a paradox because if they were as smart as they say why do they need our help or our little share of the pie? And what the hell is it about funding for social programs that benefit the poorest and least privileged among us that sends them into convulsions? I never met Jesus but I'm pretty sure he wasn't big on the money changers and spent most of his free time when he wasn't being betrayed and crucified by the ruling elite hanging out with the poor, diseased, mentally ill and downtrodden. They didn't receive much in the way of help from the rich even back then. I guess you could say Jesus was the first community organizer.

            But we all know what a worthless position that is, right?

6:19 AM - 55 Comments - 46 Kudos - Add Comment

Republicans: Worst Week Ever?
Current mood: hungry
Category: News and Politics

If one of the major arguments Republicans are making for four more years of control of the Executive Branch is that they are more prepared to lead and ensure the safety of America here and in the world then I'd say the past few days haven't done much to convince me of that.

The Republican Convention has looked more like a Chinese Fire Drill or a Univision Soap Opera than a platform to express to the American people how and why they are going to get us out of the major economic and foreign policy fiascos (they created in the first place).

Maybe this is all a new Republican Dirty Trick to make us feel sorry for them. The old roapadope. We're so befuddled and unorganized and snakebitten that we're just like you in your life. Ha, ha, ha. Vote for us because we're just as inept as you. Ha, ha, ha.

A couple of weeks ago I urged you to turn the volume down and just LOOK at the Conventions. Just look. The Democratic Convention looked like America. Everyone was there. Everyone participated. But from the moment McCain announced Palin as his VP nominee it's all been lilly white. Which is fine if you're lilly white those are your candidates, vote for them.

The best the Republicans can come up with to counter this is to feebly insult Obama as a celebrtity. On what planet is the fact that people like you and respond to your message a negative in a political campaign? You know who else is bad? That fuckin Michael Phelps. Swimming that good is actually just a cover up for his shortcomings as a croquet player. And that Johnny Depp really should give it up as an actor because we all now why he's doing it.

Meanwhile, just look at the Republicans. Don't listen. Just look. Then listen if you want.

But if the past week is any indicator of what could happen if you vote this clown squad into office I'd say yikes.

The Democratic National Convention was an uprorious success. Well organized. Well attended. Seemless. The enthusiasm was genuine and the unity was apparent.

What hapened to the Republicans? Panic? Or just plain out and out bad decisions and weak leadership? Do you honestly think John McCain knew Sarah Palin's daughter was pregnant when he made that decision? The horrific reality is he didn't even know. They were in such a rush to counter the Democrats perfect convention that they panicked, made a bad decision on the spur of the moment, and now instead of correcting it are trying to cover it up.

Yep, that's the Republicans.

So, aside from a micro-analysis of the candidates, what about looking at the Conventions? Would you rather live in an America where everything was like the democratic National Convention: all the people getting together, no one being excluded, a good time going down and some problems getting solved, or what you've seen so far from the Republicans... fear, panic, bad decisons, exclusion, hypocrisy.

I don't want that. I don't want to live in the Republican National Convention. I want the Democratic National Convention to go on (without Michael McDonald) for four years, for eight years, hell for all the years. Why not? Haven't we suffered enough? Isn't it time for a good time where nobody loses an eyeball?

4:51 PM - 43 Comments - 28 Kudos - Add Comment

Republicans Sure Are Crafty Bastards (ya, right)
Current mood: blustery
Category: News and Politics

As I watched Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindahl's seemingly endless press conference on how prepared his state was for the arrival of Hurricane Gustav, the Shakespeare quote "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," came to mind. He's actually still going on as I type with an endless list of who and what's ready.

     Why?

      The Republican party, whose National Convention is set to begin tomorrow, is considering turning their Convention into a telethon for the people of Louisiana.

          Why?

          Let me make a suggestion as to why. Guilt? Political opportunism?

          We already know how the Republican Party feels about the people of New Orleans. They showed us three years ago. I'll always take someone's actions as a reliable indicator of their character and we saw how the Republicans acted during Hurricane Katrina.

          But now they want us to believe they have this renewed sense of concern about the welfare of the people of New Orleans.

          Am I wrong or all alone in considering this one of the most cynical and shameless demonstrations of hypocrisy and unforgivable political opportunism in recent history?

          Let me have one paragraph to state I grew up in an affluent place and have known and been in the confidence of Republicans my entire life. And let me tell you one thing for the honest truth: many of the Republicans I know were ecstatic when that hurricane hit New Orleans. When people started looting they nearly came in their pants. Do you know why? Because in their minds it justified the opinion of the minorities and underclasses they saw on their tv screen acting exactly the way their stereotypes depict them. Letting the people of New Orleans twist in the wind gave them a perverse pleasure and in their minds justified their opinions about them.

          So, what's changed? Republicans are ready this time to help. Are we supposed to believe they have suddenly developed a sense of humanity?

          No. They know the cameras are rolling. They don't see this as an opportunity to help people, they see it as free publicity and nature's way of providing them with a perfect chance to prove they care about the people and are equipped to protect them. Hell, in their sick ass brains they probably believe God sent this storm so they could be the heroes this time.

          Secondly, they see this as a training exercise for their private armies, like Blackwater, to get in some training with the people of America. Hell, they've learned war and tragedy is one helluva way to make a profit and they have no intention of sitting out a money maker like this. Plus, it's just good training for their private Army to see how much shit they can get away with and how much they can push around the people of America before someone says enough.

          I've learned only a few lessons in this lifetime, but one of the most untrustworthy people I ever knew said one of the wisest things: "When people show you who they are, believe them the first time." Only a liar and a cheat could see things so clearly.

          So, this week when the Republicans use this potential tragedy to gain political favor ask yourself just this one question: "Didn't the Republicans show us who they were the first time?"

          Maybe you'll argue these are different Republicans and maybe they learned  a lesson the first time. I'd say to that maybe they're more like a chronic child abuser who beats the hell out of his kids then goes to the toy store and buys them a few toys to make up for the abuse then tells them how much he loves them…

          Then does it again.

          We don't need that.

          And here's another scary thought. What if nothing happens? What if no one riots or loots of protests or gets out in the streets? Would that say the peace keeping efforts to maintain order were a success? Or would it indicate something darker and more sinister? That someone was standing there right off camera eye making sure no one got out of line?

          I don't want to live that way. And I sure as hell don't want my tax dollars going to private armies that benefit only the corporate elite and protect only their interests.What happened to the concept that WE the People are the rightful militia, empowered by the Constitution to assemble in times of need to protect the safety and well-being of our own communities?

          So, I'm calling bullshit on the Republican lovefest and invite you to reconsider this classic piece of bumper sticker logic…

          What are the most frightening words in the English language…?

"We're from the government and we're here to help. (Or the modern equivalent: "We're here as a subsidiary of a private corporation to serve the needs of aforementioned corporation and you better get out of our way."

7:03 PM - 151 Comments - 59 Kudos - Add Comment

My Greatest Hits (warning:poetry)
Current mood: hungry
Category: Writing and Poetry

The CNN footage of Joe Biden leaving his home in Delaware to meet Barack Obama in Illinois has taught me one thing…. yes, there are rednecks in Delaware. In the spirit of all artists at a creative impasse I'm doing the only thing I know how… a clip show. My ten favorite poems (that I wrote). It's poems. And interspersed with the poems, nuggets of wisdom and clever observations. Now how much would you pay for this blog?
Dumbing It Down

I dumbed it down.
I fed it McNuggets
And put it to sleep
With pop tunes.
I made it join
The Republican party.
I drugged it with
Cable television,
I bribed it with
Guilt-free sex
And threatened it
With religion.
I spent a lifetime
Beating it
Into submission and
The ungrateful bastard
Still writes this poem.

 Anybody still there? This week a poll of Hillary Clinton supporters indicated 21% would vote for McCain out of spite. I hope if they do that something awful doesn't happen like McCain wins and appoints three new Supreme Court  justices and they overturn Roe v Wade and gay marriage rights and all the other issues these Clinton supporters who are too bitter to concede defeat hold sacred.

Pinata  

You were our first lesson
In rage and greed-   
Possibly love.   
 Our smiling guardian
 Put the stick
 In our small hands,
 Blindfolded us
 And whispered that
 Unspeakable treasures 
 Awaited us when we  
 Destroyed you.
 Spun around and 
 Drunken with images
 Of unimaginable trinkets 
 We became whirling dervishes 
 Of lust and anger,  
 Whacking and thumping away 
 At your broken smile 
 Way past nap time,  
 Until frustrated with 
 Our lack of killer instinct, 
 Our teacher sawed you  
 In half, spilling  
 Far less enticing bounty 
 Than we had dreamed of.
 Some rushed forward and   
 Grabbed and devoured,
 Others stood back and
 Cried over the carnage. 
 Either way we all learned
 Who we would be that day.

 So, I saw Sebastian Bach on Season 2 of CMT's Gone Country and he said "I don't think anyone expected me to go country."

 Well, after Kid Rock basically became the only artist on CMT over the past five years and considering you've been reduced to performing the Dover Salt Water Taffy Fest after pretty much destroying music in the late 80's, I assumed you'd be blowing everyone who could get you on any show on any network. If it wasn't Gone County you'd be on Queer Eye saying "I bet no one expected me to go gay."

        Yes, we did, several years ago, actually.
The Dreamers

 Somenight while we loll under
 Fat stars and blue sheets
And each other,
Our worlds' will be remodeled
 With props from
 Universal's
 Back lot,
And though
 I'II sip bourbon
 Neat with
Bogie in Casablanca,
And you'll stroll out of the
MOMA
Mumbling about
 Kandinsky
 As Kong pulverizes a
 Commuter train,
At dawn in
 Paris in my hand
I'II feel a hand, yours.

So, about a month ago I had the sudden realization the Universe was going to kick the shit out of me for a while and this sunny day was the apex of my first half of life. I wanted to take a picture to document that I was once here and had alright muscle tone before I got starved into oblivion.

Dolphins

The night is so clear
Dolphins swim through it.
All the noises in the world
Become my noises and
Even the stars tiptoe
Across the sky
To shine brighter in Texas.
Some of us deserve more pain
Some more happiness
I just deserve more
And I get it in small but
Potent doses throughout the night.

 I'm not going to lie and say I watched multiple episodes of Mad Men and Swingtown before I wrote this because all I really did is give them the old once over while on my way to All Star Wrestling.

 But I didn't care for the look or content of either show and I'll tell you why. When I heard about all the slurping and sucking noises being made for a show called Mad Men based on ad guys from the early 60's I didn't need to see one second of the show to know exactly what I was going to see. Men swilling booze and chain smoking and the big chested office girl and the good girl and… that's exactly what I saw.

 Swingtown is a show I think that is about the early 70's and the let it all hang out Me Generation. It must be on during a time when I'm watching something else because I run across it once a week when I'm flipping channels. It's largely the same show. You know exactly what the show is about before you tune in and there's no originality. Wife swapping and swinging and drugs and all that.

 There's nothing new under the sun so my lack of response to these shows doesn't stem from that. Here's why I really don't buy it: the actors are all twenty and thirty somethings who look clean scrubbed enough to be Jehova's Winesses before makeup and costume changes supposedly transform them into actual people from the 1960's or 70's and I'll bet the costuming wins raves but it doesn't look real. The actors are supposed to look like clean cut Americans who have dark sides and are secretly sinners, but they look like Angelenos who just came from the gym, drink nothing but bottled water and eat a steady diet of anything that will keep them from looking old. Yes, they wear well-designed costumes but underneath they look like actors who spend all day trying to look like actors. I don't buy it.

 Sin has a look.

 Last night I caught a bit of the original Ocean's 11 on WHA. There was the Rat Pack in all its glory. Sinners. You could see it on their faces. They didn't look healthy. They're very countenances exuded excess and debauchery. And they knew how to let you know that they were doing what you were only dreaming of doing. They didn't arrive at the set after an hour of pilates and they sure as hell weren't drinking pure Artesian spring water (unless some happened to spill in their Scotch).

 Sin doesn't look the way it used to and that tinge of the forbidden is what made a lot cinema from that era (Billy Wilder etc) unforgettable. Sure, there were fringe Satanic cults and wife swapping and drugs even then but for the most part the real sinning was left to celebrities. They sinned for us. And we loved them for it. And they looked like sinners. Their countenance had a devilish glow.

 Anyway, none of the actors in either of these shows has that devilish glow. I haven't read the reviews but if I did I'm sure they'd say something like: "Mad Men captures the hidden decadence of an era with pitch perfect perfection."

 I don't believe it does. I think it looks like something that came out of a Star Trek replicator. It kinda looks like what it was meant to replicate but it just doesn't have the soul. I hope as a collective audience we don't just become a weaker and weaker copy of a copy of what we used t be.

 I didn't really watch the other show but it looked the same.

 That's my contrarion media snippet for this week.

The Streak

The announcer fawns
Over the Iron Man:
"Number 63 has played
 In 120 straight 
 Football games,
 An amazing feat
 Of endurance."  
 I do the math:  
 Sixteen Sundays a year,
 Three hours a pop 
 For nearly eight years,
 360 total hours, 
 Or maybe five or six
 Weeks of my granddaddy's 
  Life in the field and  
 The mill afterhours, 
 Covering the rent 
 2,750 straight months,
 Playing hurt through three 
 Heart attacks, seven children
 And five disbanded
 Pro football leagues. 
 Now let's talk about   
A fucking streak.

     Here's the second indulgence I ask. In the early 90's before his death, because it wasn't possible afterwards, I wrote a few letters to Charles Bukowski, and he basically told me to get some hair on my balls before I continued trying writie poetry. Good advice, and well received. I appeared with Charles Bukowski ten time in lit zines, and this one has my name on the cover. He's even more famous now than he was then. I wonder if that makes up for years or starvation.

Why You Are Not Here

I was saving
You for the encore
But the show
Was a flop.

I stopped to smell
The roses...
Often and with
Remarkable torpidity.

I barked up
A lot of wrong trees
And beat a lot
Of burning bushes.

I cast my seed
(Or your seed depending
On one's perspective
But not yours because
You don't exist)
In dirt and once
Or twice in sand.

I frittered away
Your genetic inheritance
On high-risk offerings
And low-yield bonds.

I'm sparing you
Chicken pox,
The death of 5-10
Pets and the sharp
Tooth of a child'sIngratitude.

 My work has come
To nothing and thus
You are nothing.
All the good names
Were taken.
Did you really want
To bear the ridicule
Of being
Wolfgang Bertram
Van Munster Vaultonburg?

Although I make
A laudable martini
My penis' bark
Is worse than
My semen's bite.

Always I paused
To carefully examine
The map at the mall...

You were never there.

I took a vote...

You came in second.

 You know what one of my favorite things about poetry is: when you hit your forties you're still considered a young poet. It's one of the few professions where you're not expected do your best work until your hair turns gray. It's comforting. Unless you never get any better.

The Last Word

 When the poems come
 Crashing in I'd rather
 Be anywhere else-
 Washing the toilet,
 Getting my teeth
 Or at the Health Dept. 
 Being tested for syphilis.

 When the poems come
  I'm under oath, 
  Obligated to tell you 
  Women left me for car
  Salesmen and drummers 
  And anyone who's car  
  Had a heater and a radio, 
  That bosses fired me 
  For writing poems
  And drinking bourbon  
  In the stock room. 

  When the poems come
  I get to tell you what
  Cheap whores and small-
  Dicked nitwits they were.

  It's a damn high  
  Price just to get
  The last word.
 My first book of poetry was published in 1990. Twenty years almost. In all that time I've never been invited to join anyone's "movement." The Punks, the Carma Bums, the Outsiders, the Outlaws, the Post Beats, the Slammers, The Unbearables… whatever all the people who get together collectively and name themselves to designate that they are renegades and operate outside of recognized standards despite weekly meetings and a handbook, well, I've never been part of that. Suppose I never will get that invite. I wonder what that says about me?

How to Leave

Place 10,000
In Monopoly money 
On the counter and   
Explain this should  
Cover the broken 
 Windows and back 
 Rent.
Take a good
 Hard shit in the
 Toilet and leave 
 Bacon grease on
 The stove. Make
 Sure to toss a sixer  
Of something classy  
 Like Blatz in the cooler 
 For the next broken  
 Down sucker to come 
 Through here.

Love Poem

My fingers
carefully avoid
Strychnine and Plath's poems,
 Instead contemplating a year
 In Provence picking grapes

 On the chance this story
Will amuse you on my return,
And my lips say nothing
Though they know seven
Mayan words that would make
 Your face contort then melt
Under me.
 It's because
They are in love with
The garlic and zucchini
We could chop in our
Kitchen someday.

Faking Bad

In anticipation of my
Evaluation to be declared
Non Compos Mentos
I slept under a bridge
For three days
"Getting into character,
"But on the morning of
My intake interview
My hair fell perfectly,
I mean I looked like
 A fucking rock star.

College girls on the bus
Were giving me their
Numbers and my skin,
Which I'd purposely sunburnt
And caked in the finest filth,
Glowed like an Australian
Chippendale dancer named Weegie
And even the female Assisstant D.A.
Who had busted me for vagrancy
Waved her panties from
The third story building
Of the Courthouse.

No matter how much
 ITried to speak gibberish
Poetry and philosophical
Tracts spewed from my mouth.

Shuffling past the park
I beat eight
Grand Masters
At chess .. 1

Inadvertently I solved
The Phi Epsilom Theorem
By kicking stones
Into an algorythym.

 When I arrived they didn't
Make me wait at all. 
My caseworker giggled like
A schoolgirl while I told her
Each day was like an endless shift
In a Chinese fish- gutting
 Sweatshop and every one of my fellow
 Employees was motivationalist
Richard Simmons.

She ungirdled her enormous
Tits and as they spilled
Like fishguts onto the desk
She began to howl"
Fuck me, fuck me, oh fuck
Me right here in
Front of the open window
On State Street as everyone
Watches me fucking the strongest,
Healthiest, smartest, most popular,
Well-adjusted man in the world.

 The rest of the examination was
Also a success. But as I left the
Mental HealthCenter  feeling marvelous
I accidentally bumped
An old woman with the door:
"Watch out you manic-depressive 
Schizoid with Socially Avoidant  Features klutz."

    So, it's taken me a few hours to get this blog up. Fighting the hell out of the equipment. So, this is what it is.

8:06 PM - 84 Comments - 78 Kudos - Add Comment

Cowboy Up, Bush, and Ride With Your Posse One Last Time
Category: News and Politics

Go ahead, George W. Bush, say something stupid. I dare ya. I double dog dare ya. Say something like..         

 "Bring em on."

          Because that's the type of diplomacy that caused the current Georgian/Russian dust up.

          Well, that and threatening to put missles right outside Russia's borders.

          We haven't seen tough guy George W. Bush lately though, have we? Everyone in the Bush administration has the same look on their faces as the stock character in the movies who punches the huge, mean guy in the face and promptly realizes he's about  to get his ass kicked.

          Say some smartass, snarky thing out of the side of your mouth, Dick Cheney. Lurk in the shadows as if you're fucking Svengali then go hide in a bunker when the shit hits the fan.

          Cowardly punks.

          Hey, I got an idea: let's send Condoleeza. Condaleeza will go anywhere.

          I wonder if one reason the Russians don't seem to be taking George Bush very seriously is because they've known all along what America took all this time to figure out: he's a coward and a charlatan. He's a little boy who never grew up. He never learned to distinguish fantasy from reality. And like Dick Cheney has never been in a real fight in his life. Board games don't count, guys.

          When you send real soldiers to real places to fight other real soldiers they sometimes die. And your willingness to not factor that reality into your fantasy game approach to international diplomacy is one of the major factors why we're getting our asses kicked from one end of the planet to the other.

          So, Republicans have been hounding Democrats, and Obama in particular, to acknowledged the Surge has been working. I'll be the first to come out and admit it…

          The Surge has been an enormous success…

          For Russia…

          China…

          Venezuala…

          And any other regime that wanted to get away with whatever they wanted to get away with while our troops were too busy defending your economic interests in places they never should have been.

          You want to know the real reason Russia and China sat back all this time and didn't act: because it gave them the greatest satisfaction to know America had reduced itself to a villainous, cowardly regime that oppresses its own people and invades sovereign nations for economic reasons just like them. Except they feel no reason to apologize.

          You know why we had no advance intelligence on the Georgian invasion? All of our intelligence agencies were too busy spying on Americans.

          You don't have to spy no more guys. I think the people of America are ready to tell you something right out in the open… Fuck you and your little sick-ass charade, get a real job and stay the fuck out of our lives. And if you don't feel like you want to we'll throw you out of our lives.

          So, little Bush, enjoy the blood money. I hope the people of America get enough courage to show up at your door and the doors of your  war profiteering scumbag cronies and demand that money back. Then put you on trial and send you to prison where you belong.

          Thanks to you our enemies are stronger than ever and we are weaker than ever and our citizens are less free than ever and the economy is collapsed and everyone in the world hates us.

          Nice job, dickhead. I hope your friends enjoy the spoils.

          But just one last time I'd like to invite you to say something, anything.

          Go ahead, Cowboy.

Oh, and here's some more love for my Conservative friends who keep me well-stocked with hate mail.

How To Argue Taxes With a Conservative

6:05 PM - 68 Comments - 49 Kudos - Add Comment

My Readers Are Stupid
Category: Blogging

According to the assessment of this one-time reader.  This is an actual email I received although I won't reveal the identity of who sent it I can tell you this much: he's one of those hipster 20 something's who has a fifth rate knockoff site imitating the Onion. Ya, we all know the type.

Now my readers are many things: professors, rocket surgeons, bartenders, actual writers, factory workers, miscreants and misanthropes (you know who you are). But one way I would never categorize them is as drones or lacking in intelligence or savvy. In fact, pound for pound I'll put my readers up against any anywhere in the Universe. And if anybody is going to call them out is sure as hell isn't going to be some unoriginal (insert an institution from any previous generation that actually did something) wannabe.

Your generation (Y) outa be kissing our Generation's ass (X) because you guys haven't come up with an original idea since day 1. All you do is cannibalize trend after trend from past generations and worst of all you seem to think you came up with them or the brilliance of your take on things makes them new and improved.

Wrong.

Back to my readers. You smug punk. If you'd have bothered to do more than glance over the latest blog entry you'd have realized I've written almost 100 blogs (didn't count) in three years and this one is the first one with pictures. And by the way, my readers DIDN'T respond to this blog very well. Numbers and comments were way down from my blogs with "mere writing." I won't use numbers to justify my blogs because the Jonas Bros are 1 and if Kafka and Kerouac wrote blogs they'd probably have 15 readers, but I do pretty ok and not just because I actually invite people to read my work but because I'd like to think my blog is one of the fewer and fewer places where good content meets relevant information.

Plus my readers rock the fucking house. And I don't say that for an applause line because I'm going to get that anyway. I hand-picked every single person on my Friend's List because to me they were smart and interesting. True, most of my readers are Generation X'ers and we probably share a lot of common background and experience, including an innate sensor for the bullshit of a younger generation that isn't doing the hard work of creating any type of cultural, artistic or intellectual capitol for itself.

You guys go on ahead and keep imitating us and we'll go on and keep giving you things to imitate.

When you insult me that's fine I bartended and bounced and owned a bar I've been called everything but a nice guy and I couldn't give a shit less, but calling people drones because you don't believe they have the cultural IQ you do is pretty fucking stupid and you went and did it in the wrong fucking place. What you did is like walking into a biker bar and saying "Which one of you pussies wants to fight." I think we all do.

Tangentally (is that a word) the blog you seem to have so much snobbish distaste for is part of a fucking brilliant satirical campaign including some witticists who's brains would crush your spleen (and I don't even know what that means) and I'll guarangodamtee you there are fucking no talent hipsters out there stealing the idea right now.

Here's what I really want to say. Does anyone remember when Generation X was called the Slacker Generation? Remember how mean spirited and derisive that term was? We were supposed to be the generation that was too lazy and unmotivated to take control of the great society the Greatest Generation and their spawn The Hippies gifted us with. We were going to be responsible for the downfall of American society.

If we're so inept why is it suddenly the Oldsters who are modest enough to label themselves The Greatest Generation and The Hippies Who Wouldn't Die as well as their Emo and Generation Y whelp are looking to us for everything? I guess we're slightly better than advertised, huh?

So, those are MY readers. The people who actually create things and do things so people like you can mock and put on a false sense of sophistication.We'll go on making stuff you can rip off and you just go on being too cool and ironic to acknowledge the people you're ripping off.

You guys will do something original and interesting some day, but until you do get the fuck out of my way I'm creating.

Here's a little bit of money where my mouth is. It's taboo for poets to discuss their own work but some of Leonard Cohen's finest work are the poems in Death of a Lady's Man where he writes the poetry then an even more poetic commentary. This  poem sat in a notebook for two years because I just jotted it down one evening and it seemed way too facile and easy. But when I finally showed it to people they picked it out of a lineup.

Dumbing It Down

I dumbed it down.

I fed it McNuggets

And put it to sleep

With pop tunes.

I made it join

The Republican party.

I drugged it with

Cable television,

I bribed it with

Guilt-free sex

And threatened it

With religion.

I spent a lifetime

Beating it

Into submission and

The ungrateful bastard

Still writes this poem.

     That's all the poetry you get because I feel guilty about getting you here under false pretenses then whipping out the poetry. Like a party you thought was an orgy and they start playing charades.

    What I hope you will do, though, is give the blogs of Ryan and Andrew Davis a look because it's comedy Gold. And we're really all three running for Winnebago County Coroner. Votes will be counted.

Andrew Davis For Coroner

Ryan davis For Coroner

The person who wrote that email actually wrote me this morning and reported he did bother to read my other blogs and enjoyed them quite a bit more but I'd already written this last night and I don't have another blog for this week so accept my feeble retraction if you read this.

4:55 PM - 119 Comments - 90 Kudos - Add Comment

I'm Running For Winnebago County Coroner (With Updates)
Current mood: cantankerous
Category: News and Politics

Boys and ghouls (sorry) of the assembled presses of the Universe, I have summoned you here today to announce my candidacy for Winnebago County Coroner.

Thomas L. Vaultonburg knows the dead. He loves the dead. You can trust your dear departed loved ones to his expert and thorough care. Unlike his opponent...

    Ryan "Business As Usual" Davis

Ryan "BAU" Davis would have you believe he has the best interests of the Newly Expired in his heart, but we believe he has alterior motives.

When Ryan "Re-Animator Davis claims he loves the dead he isn't kidding, but the second your head is turned he's looking down your girlfriend's shirt.

Oh, Ryan "Boobie Peeker" Davis loves the dead...

For Lunch!!!

Winnebago County can't afford two years of Ryan Davis and his fat-cat, high-flying politics-as-usual antics. What we need is a commited, competent Coroner. And that man is Thomas L. Vaultonburg.

Family Man

Thomas L. Vaultonburg likes his women alive and wiggling.

Thomas L. Vaultonburg's cabinet has over 2100 years of dealing with the dead.

So, November 4th the choice is clear. Business as Usual or American hero Thomas L. Vaultonburg for Winnebago County Coroner.

Ryan Davis is a fine fellow and would make an excellent but slightly less good Winnebago County Coroner than me.

www.ryandavisphotography.com

Update. My opponent, Ryan "Colonoscopy" Davis has just launched a scorched earth media campaign mocking my progressive plan to turn Winnebago County into a Sanctuary City for the Undead. Let him know we won't stand for this type of bigotry against the Dead. Just press this ridiculously long link which I do not know how to truncate and tell Ryan Davis and his No Nothing cronies No Thank You.

No Thank You Davis

Breaking News!!! I am now running against another Davis. Andrew "Easy Listening" Davis. He has posted a shameless blog with pictures he unearthed of my university days. Transylvania University, that is. Let him know we don't go for that type of chicanery in Winnebago County.

Loggins and Messina Suck

3:50 PM - 137 Comments - 84 Kudos - Add Comment

Gooseberry and Rhubarb Pie
Current mood: hungry
Category: Food and Restaurants

Gooseberry and Rhubarb Pie

      When maternal-like members of my family were still alive they'd bake pies out of things like rhubarb and gooseberries. The worst part of their baking fixation is we kids would be obligated to eat the damn things. Now we'd been outside a great deal of our lives and had a lot of experience putting just about anything that looked edible in our mouths. And of all those things just about the least edible were gooseberries and rhubarb. It was unclear to us how anything that tasted so foul in it's natural state could be transformed into a baked good of any tastiness.

        Sugar. The answer was sugar. And maybe strawberries. It was explained that the sugar would cancel out the natural sour and inedible nature of the ingredients.

        What the fuck kind of reasoning was this? From the same corps of brain surgeons that brought us salt to cure dehydration, starve a fever and rub some dirt on a compound fracture and get back out there.

        Sugar. If you include enough sugar it will cancel out the tartness. No fucking shit, huh. If I covered a pile of dogshit in sugar it might cancel out the inherent dogshit taste of the dogshit but I don't really have much of an appetite for dogshit in the first place.

        Or gooseberries or rhubarb. Especially since we were surrounded by berries and fruits of all descriptions. Given apples, blueberries, raspberries and peaches my ancestors chose to overlook these delicacies and go to the ditch for whatever weed was growing there.

        Real good thinking.

So, what's the oddest or more disgusting thing your granparents or older members of your family tried to foist off on you as food?

                       Honkies for Obama

And remember: T-shirts don't vote.

11:23 AM - 134 Comments - 82 Kudos - Add Comment

Bad Service, Bad Food and Bad Company
Current mood: blah
Category: Food and Restaurants

Bad Service, Bad Company and Bad Food

And here's another thing...

When did people start to actually like bad service, bad food and bad company? Dig this for a concept... instead of brain dead bimbos in assless chaps behind a bar just put them on a stripper pole where they belong and get someone back there who's actually made a vodka gimlet and a rusty nail and is willing to stop bending over the cooler long enough to get me a fucking drink.

Bartending is a godamn art and a noble profession. It's a damn shame it's been reduced to the lowest common denominator. After skipping over two solid weeks of Coyote Ugly reality tryouts on CMT I wanted everyone on the planet dead. If you're unfortunate enough to have seen the movie you'll realize this... they only made two rounds of drinks in the entire fucking movie. Not much different than the service you'll get at nearly any bar these days.

I don't care for pretty women. And i know they don't like me. I like beautiful, real women. I don't want to go anywhere where the godamn bartender thinks she's a fucking star. Here's a tip for bartenders... people ask you for stuff and you GET IT FOR THEM. That's the job. If I wanted to see a juggler or The Blue Man Group or strippers I'd go to those establishments.  

Who am I? I'll tell you who the fuck I am... someone who bartended for ten excruciating years and served more drinks to more people in more places than, well than anybody. When I started bartending jfifteen years ago the profession was still taken pretty seriously. As a bartender on a night off you could go to almost any bar anywhere around and those bartenders would take care of you. I have literally been in bars recently where people stood there waving around hundred dollar bills and couldn't get served for over a half hour.

If you don't want to serve people get the fuck out of the business. I don't go out anymore. Not because I don't like to but because I literally get enraged by bartenders who are too good or too lazy to serve customers.

My recomendation is to support neighborhood bars and smaller bars where they actually still care if your drink is full and your food is good. The rest of you can take your orange panties, your assless chaps and your baby doll tshirts and stick em up your ass.

And for new bartenders entering the profession remember it is a privilege and an honor to serve people and the profession has a long and noble history and every time you go behind the bar you're a part of that.

12:39 AM - 93 Comments - 66 Kudos - Add Comment

The Fonzarelli Effect
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

The Fonzarelli Effect

        When I served my time as a schoolkid in the seventies and eighties things were different. Parents weren't cool. There were no MILF moms and 40 year old dads in punk rock bands. Hell, in the entire frickin universe there probably only 700-800 people tops who were considered "cool." And they had done extensive work to become so. Lunch boxes proved it. You got the wrong lunch box you took a beating. In 1978 it was Evel Knieval, John Travolta and The Fonz.

        What's my point? I'll tell you my fucking point. If you wore Chuck Taylors to school in 1978 it meant you couldn't afford blue Addidas with the three stripes and you took a beating. If you wore brown Toughskins to school in 1978 you might as well have ….  well, something bad.  You remember Toughskins from Sears. A fucking robot couldn't wear them out so what chance did you have to ever be rid of these monstrosities.

        What's my point? I was recently forced to attend an event at a "trendy" night spot. Everyone there was significantly cooler than me. I know this is true because they drank nothing but Pabst Blue Ribbon and wore the same awful military style black frame nylon glasses I was issued as a defenseless seven year old and wore until I was sixteen. More than this they  had managed to find a lost consignment of brown Toughskins somewhere at a forgotten torture facility and were sporting Old School Chuck Taylors. I suffered flashbacks and had to remove myself from the suarez before I started stabbing everyone in the jugular with the shards of an Appletini glass.

        What's your point, Thomas? I'll tell you. In 1978 I wasn't cool in my brown Toughskins, Chuck Taylors and black nylon military style glasses and neither are you in 2006. Pabst Blue Ribbon is horse piss and always has been. My father drank PBR for forty years and he's far from being one of the cooler people on the planet.

        So, The Fonzarelli Effect. What is it? As I mentioned in 1978 no one on the planet was cool. 700-800 people tops. And the rest of us accepted that. There was only one cool table and we weren't at it. When Dungeons and Dragons came out we played it. When Devo made albums we bought them. We were known as geeks, dweebs and nerds and treated accordingly. There were no television shows glorifying us.

        Flash forward to 2007 and of the 6.5 billion people on Earth roughly two-thirds of them are now "cool." Everyone gets it. Everyone has a cell phone and a blog and a My Space site. Pretty much everyone in the entire world is in a punk band and everyone else is a tattoo artist. Every trend is transmitted to everyone simultaneously so no one has to do the hard work of being an individual. Everyone gets it. Even the last examples of uncoolness on the planet, the nerds, geeks and dweebs are now hip.

        The Fonzarelli effect states that if everyone is cool no one is cool. Cool isn't the right lunchbox, awful pants, bad music and deluding yourself into thinking Pabst Blue Ribbon is a palatable beverage, cool is a T-shirt with The Fonz giving you the thumb and saying "AAAAAYYYYYY" just be yourself.  Cool is not getting that dumbass tattoo and looking to past generations for ideas and slogans and