A Description of a Really Nice Sausage
Monday, October 25, 2004
  Some ethnic slurs. Was reading Orcinus today, and the couple of tussles Mr. Neiwert has gotten himself into. Now, any longtime Scrip reader knows I dislike Michelle Malkin primarily because she's Asian. What they may not know is that I dislike Mr. Neiwert as well because he's a killer whale. He may whine
The conservative movement is no longer capable of winning anything on the merits of its powers of reason.*

but that's because a high-pitched whining sound is the only thing that can come out of a blowhole. Not to mention, I can't imagine anyone'd want to engage in debate with someone whose mints were barely able to cope with the stench of half-rotten seals.

Fascism, indeed.

 
Sunday, October 24, 2004
  Meat. The only undeniable, truly wretchedly sickeningly thing we can say about John Kerry is that he looks French. The only UTWS thing (vide supra) we can say about Bush is that he looks manly.

So how long can America pretend with her friends that she fell down the stairs, or bumped into the coffee table—"Oh, I bruise really easily, it's not that bad." How long can she persist in lying not only to those who trust her, not only to herself, but to him, who has a clear problem and must stop now?

The thing about Clinton is that when he came on someone's dress, she kept it. I don't think there will be any delay on January 20 for America to get off her knees and towel off her chin.
 
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
  More malfeasance later — now, just a shout-out. Came across this site, which I hesitate even to link to, it's so unbelievably, disgustingly wrong-headed and ignorant. There's not much there as of yet, fortunately, but as with septicemic bacteria, I think we can be assured this necrotic mass will only grow given heat and culture medium. What's particularly galling is the FAQ, in which every other fucking word, it seems, is trademarked. Is this the late capitalistic step of spirituality development in America? Is this a wonderful proof of entrepreneurial evolution — insofar as online spiritual organizations have to specialize to unoccupied niches to gain any survival advantage?

I don't know — I am just an idiot, after all, and possessed of a blog, which is about as sensible as imbuing governments with some sort of moral righteousness.
 
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
  No, actually, I had a good day. I hate school. I loathe my car. I hate my apartment, detest my poverty, cannot stand my president or a good deal of the government that goes along with him, I find idle distractions like "blogging" odious, breathing is arduous and irrelevant, hearing sounds brings me to the height of rage — for every fucking synapse that goes off and yes even now while writing about how much I hate it I cringe harder and harder, trying to compress my hateful little self into a singular pinpoint mass of infinite malevolence. Being composed of matter disgusts me. I sneer at extended objects, hiss and snarl at things-in-themselves; I want to destroy it all and leave no shred of me behind to be smirking, contented, smartassery incarnate, happy at my cute endeavor.

But like otherwise, everything's going okay.
 
  Examination. So what the hell is wrong with America? Despite damn well knowing she is a devout Christian nation, she insists on granting religious frauds like John Kerry near-credibility in races with he who should be carrying away 100% support, our own divine-righted despot, George W. Bush, may God bless him forever. Did you hear his response to the question of homosexuality in the last debate? Kerry the softie declares that wanton hedonists can no more control their wicked, perverted behavior than a slobbering dog — and I shouldn't really be angered, I know — for people like Kerry the tug of even the most venial temptations is too great to be rationally resisted, and he may very well, in his heart congested with sin and woe, believe that men and women faced with sin have no choice — and that is our great tribulation, brothers and sisters: having to understand our enemy at the same time we vanquish them — sympathize with the sinners, for they deserve our pity, but also destroy them, for America cannot and shall not abide the kind of girlie-man morality that refuses to condone the justified killing of abortionists and homosexuals, hellbound.

And so I have sinned, fair readers, please bear with the Scrip, for in our righteous hatred we have overlooked the sanctity of America, we have forgotten her infallibility, as the Chosen Nation of God, and we assumed something was wrong, when obviously we are merely undertaking yet another test from the Almighty, a judgment on our righteousness, which we must not fail. Given the tests of the past twelve years, I can only think that Our God is a most righteous Proctor, a true Revelatory Incarnation of No Child Left Behind, dedicated to test often and test early his chosen people. But remember, Scrip readers — that we must not fail, or God's righteous federal dollars will be withheld from us.
 
  Shameful.
I think that if you ask Dick Cheney's daughter which team she likes in the ACLS, she'll tell you that it's not a choice, and that the Sox are simply in her blood.
Personally, I think John Kerry is a horrible man, and certainly no father figure, to disregard a mother's anguish like that, acknowledging what's yes okay public but still needs no attention drawn to it — who could ever bear the embarrassment? — that her daughter likes the Red Sox.
 
Sunday, October 17, 2004
  Would you like some health care? Oh, I'm sorry, you can't have any. You're too poor. Kos talking about health care has rescued the crumpled body of an issue shut into a car trunk ten years ago, and much to the detriment of the United States, or at least those people in it like the Description who have shitty coverage, no coverage, or worse (worse meaning they're already tethered to a humongous mass of medical bills). But dismissing single-payer is misguided.
At the level of care alone, there are too many issues. Like, for instance, how many resources to put into prevention and alternative techniques. Or what to do about the impact of undocumented immigrants. Or how to deal with the effect of people “overusing” the system for health problems that should never necessitate trips to the clinic. Or do we continue expensive treatments for people about to die? And, of course, how to overcome the many political obstacles, like insurance-company clout and the inevitable shouts of “socialism” when universal coverage is mentioned.
Though categorizing health as a public good, recognizing that entrepreneurial medicine can't deliver effectively to our population, and noting that rationing is inevitable under any system, he seems loathe to commit to single payer.

Now look: single payer is weird, it's probably un-American, it may be a huge risk, and many many people are going to be inordinately pissed off for various, and variously-relevant, reasons — but it's also the only class of solutions that's going to work. Despite the political obstacles. Despite the tough questions. The country's shied away from it long enough.
 
  There. I put it out there. Anyone who says of people who criticize this administration, its conduct, or the sacrosanct War On Terror, that they are either "emboldening the enemy," "inviting another attack," "lowering our troops' morale," "hurting the country," "jeopardizing the War On Terror," "alienating our Alliance of the Willing," "making it harder to stop terrorists," or any permutation, combination, mutation thereof, I will eat.
 
  Huh. Someone actually said it. Jon Stewart was on Crossfire (video torrent) Friday night, and besides calling out Carlson for wearing a bow tie and for being a dick, he confronted the hosts on colluding with established powers by conducting theatrics instead of news and debate. Un-freaking-believable.

Stewart, who looked brutally vulnerable eschewing the smarmy schtick and sticking to principles, still got the best of Carlson repeatedly (Begala, having little of substance to contribute to Stewart, and limiting his smarminess to an early-round crack on Bush, was mostly silent) by A) uprooting Carlson's charge of hypocrisy, B) confounding Carlson's funny-monkey-boy expectation, and C) not reading the play before playing it.

This was refreshing.
 
Saturday, October 16, 2004
  Almost all day this time without getting pissed off. So the poll at CNN today is: Do you think sexual preference is a choice? Is this a canard for some more deep-seated opinions, or is CNN really interested in some abstruse philosophy here? Does it make any difference, whether homosexuals are right or wrong to love the people they love, if they made a "choice" or if they were "born" into it? Do we really see a mad rush of erstwhile manly men "choosing" to have sex with other man, be called pansies, be discriminated against? Did you ever know of anyone unattracted to birds suddenly choose to become hot for them?

Or more subtly: is it possible for people to choose their emotions, as if they were a dress in the closet? Jesus Christ, but those people are sad, pathetic, and totally unwilling to rise above idiotic discourse.

That a lot depends on one's answer to this question is nearly as ludicrous as the insistence of some people to deny the inherent naturalness of homosexuality. Some people couldn't afford to get the DSM-III, I guess.

 
Saturday, October 09, 2004
  W is for wood. While W was asking the substantive questions we all yearned for, tapping that deep square American spiritual void that can be filled no more effectively than by a large, round peg of timber, the rest of the country went on contributing to the furtherance of critical theory, insofar as what the debate analysis digested had little to do with each side's merits and much more to do with the debate's placement into the swirl of narratives surrounding the campaign.

We who are loathe to use the word meta non-jocularly will not here.

What we said earlier, about campaigners' messages' separation from the substance of the campaigner, is applicable, as we are essentially voting for stories -- us partisans are jostling, screaming, yelling, and cursing over stories, and their dissemination among the public, and the wicked reception they receive in some quarters, and the damn bestseller list omnipotent above all.

But look at us revering substance all of a sudden -- again, it's what we revere in our candidates that excuses their reach for power, though not only might it be illusory but some of us partisans admit so much, in safe times for their candidate, or at least in fawning, hypocritical sportsmanship toward the opponent. Both may be as base or as altruistic as we like, but only so far as we like.

The love for stories is obviously close to sports fans' love of clothing to the detriment of the athletes filling them, and we'll only augment the trite comparison of modern elections to Super Bowl contests by noting the increased sophistication in an election, where deconstruction, metanarratives, and histories of discourse, although differently named, are the game.
 
Friday, October 08, 2004
  Bookended By as it turns out two kind of interesting media events: last night with the appearance of Bill O'Reilly on the Daily Show, and tonight with another televised beating of a mentally retarded person by an old, smoky vet.

O'Reilly I know chiefly through efforts to get me to dislike him -- esp. Outfoxed, and of course Mr. Franken, which -- funny stuff, is all I'm saying. I also know him through an interview out on which he walked with Terri Gross on NPR's Fresh Air a few months ago, in which it really seemed as if the man could not cope with the loss of power his studio affords him.

But to my surprise he seemed unduly civil and nonrectal when chatting with Jon, which maybe it's 'cause Jon, not having a father who died under the World Trade Center, was too big a target for O'Reilly to pick on, or maybe because he and Jon are actually friendly and it's possible people aren't the silhouettes we drew of them on a lonely Saturday night without a date. Imagine that -- people who act differently in different contexts. I'm like a fuckin' hippie.

So but thinking about W in that way is maddening because my life -- like most other people's -- has spots devoid of passion and love which the act of REALLY REALLY IRRATIONALLY HATING someone else fills quite nicely, like a sort of cosmetic putty that goes down real smooth. And the term irrational has more to do with my conviction that little if anything humans do germinates of necessity than any casual notion that W doesn't deserve at least some -- a skosh, a teeny-weeny freakin' bit -- of the custom gumbo vitriol I've been cooking for years. Leave it to others to provide ample reasons -- I try not to belabor the obvious.

And also bearing in mind how some guy got going on Slashdot the other day and infuriated me by leading-by-leash the gruff old mongrel dog of the Green Party, "There's no difference between the two major candidates," and how, C'MON, if you honestly think the same bad legislation, the same cream-puff Gestapo, the same unpopular Hollywood sequel staged as a Middle Eastern farce could sprouted from John Kerry, then I think the mushrooms' caps' slight resemblance may have misled you into thinking both just as poisonous. What the merits are of judging a candidate by the party he keeps, specifically the demeanors of his colleagues and their recent tendency to be attacked rather than vice-versa (and I think of soft-spoken Dick Gephardt contra those sleazy anti-Max Cleland ads from 2002), I'm not willing at this point in my irrational hatred to discuss -- and but yet having lived through Clinton, I predict confidently that John Kerry, Chief Executive will fuck up this country in such more innocuous and different ways than George W. Bush has, and to such a lesser degree, that few people will consider them ex post facto alike.

But back to Bush: O'Reilly made a point that "he's no dummy," and that seems to be the first admission of most independents who grudgingly meet and shake meaty handshakes with the man, and I realize that political messages are not the same as the person, so that my irritation at hearing W extol the virtues of fatuous and fatwa-ous decisions without reference to good judgment shouldn't be displaced to a man who, for all I know and outside the membrane of his image of faith, may not be actually convinced he has a tin-can-cum-string direct to God.

But nevertheless it is, and I am a horrible person. I, however, admit as much, making me simultaneously better than everyone else and a more horrible person.
 
What — you're gonna pretend you don't like words, too?

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