Woe is Me: I Don't Live in The Real America

I don't wear snowshoes or go snowmobiling. I've never hunted an animal and have not the slightest idea how to field dress a moose. Wasn't born in a small town and don't live in one, either.

According to Sarah Palin, I'm not a "real" American.

At a campaign fundraiser in North Carolina, Palin said, "We believe that the best of America is not all in Washington, D.C. We believe that the best of America is in these small towns that we get to visit, and in these wonderful little pockets of what I call the real American, being here with all of you hard working very patriotic, um, very, um, pro-America areas of this great nation. This is where we find the kindness and the goodness and the courage of everyday Americans. Those who are running our factories and teaching our kids and growing our food and are fighting our wars for us. Those who are protecting us in uniform. Those who are protecting the virtues of freedom."

Regardless of what sense this special little chestnut may or may not impart on rational minds, one thing is clear.

I'm not a real American.

After all: I don't grow the food or run the factories (factories? We've still got factories in the US?) or teach the kids or fight the wars. Worst of all, I live in a city. Ergo, I'm not patriotic or pro-American. According to young Palin, the "real" America lies elsewhere: In bumpkin small towns Al Qaeda could give a shit less about.

As if this dipshit's actions weren't enough, the Republicans continued touting their "'real' American, 'fake' American" theories on any media outlet that would give them a platform. On Hardball, Minnesotan mongoloid Representative Michele Bachmann said, "I wish the American media would take a great look at the views of the people in Congress and find out: Are they pro-America or anti-America?"

Ladies and gentlemen, we at long last have a qualified successor to Senator McCarthy. And what the fuck is a "great look"? Do tell, Bach-MANN.

And at a McCain campaign rally, North Carolina Republican Representative Robin Hayes said, "Liberals hate real Americans that work and accomplish and achieve and believe in God."

WHAT?!? Alright, enough is enough, dickhead. Let me tell you what Liberals hate.

Liberals hate being the most educated, rational, and tolerant individuals in the country. We hate making all the money in our big elitist cities. We hate being the economic engines that keep America moving. We loathe being important enough to warrant terrorist strikes, and hate the unjustified war wrought in the name of 9/11's victims.

Most especially, we hate going through the election process. Because we know, no matter how smart we are and how much time we put into making an educated choice, the "real" Americans will choose the next President. And, let's face it: The "real" Americans are mostly intellectually stunted troglodytes who base their decisions entirely upon unimportant hot button issues, like race, gender, religion (or lack thereof), sexual orientation, gun control, abortion, etc.

There is no place for their knee-jerk politics. Yet their reactionist tendencies are what time and again decide major elections.

We Liberals hate knowing. As Byron said, "Sorrow is knowledge. Those that know the most mourn the deepest. The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life."

If only we could be "real" Americans. Life would be bliss.

A Moratorium: Ginormous

This week, I recommended a moratorium on the word "ginormous". This fusion of "gigantic" and "enormous" is the single most retarded word "created" in recent years.

I hate the word. I hate seeing it on the page. And I absolutely hate hearing it spoken.

When a word like "large" or "huge" would work just fine, some moron goes ahead and whips out "ginormous". The word goes over as well as that Thanksgiving dinner when Grandpa decided to drop trou, whip out his one-eyed warrior, and attempt to baste the turkey with his octogenarian man nectar.

Who am I kidding? That was hilarious!

Anyhow, my big problem with "ginormous" is the sound of it. When I hear it, I think vagina.

In fact, "ginormous" should only be used to describe The Vaginormous: A somewhat apocryphal cavernous vagina monster that eats men whole. Supposedly, The Vaginormous lives in Queens. She likes cuddling. And men. Did I mention she eats men?

So, let's dump this "ginormous" bullshit. The word shall never again appear in this blog. It's dead. Gone.

However, The Vaginormous may make another appearance. I'm trying to get an interview.

mcd's

This morning, I nearly got into a fistfight with some 14-year-old at McDonald's. What a fucking mess.

I know what you're thinking. I'M the asshole, picking fights with 14-year-olds. But hear me out.

I'd ordered a couple Egg McMuffins and a coffee. Was given my change and receipt. Then, I stepped back a few feet from the counter to wait.

A hashbrown came with my meal. I wasn't excited about that. They're always greasy and taste like rotten ass. I planned on feeding it to the ravenous gulls in the parking lot when I left.

As I stood there, this young kid, black, about six inches shorter and 40 pounds lighter, comes up to me and stands about a foot away, facing me. Staring me DIRECTLY in the eyes.

Now, this is Fall River, Massachusetts. Such behavior is typical for this town and I should be used to it. But I'm not.

Personally, I think the entire city should be razed and the populous turned into Soylent Green. At least then they'd prove themselves useful, by providing fellow humans with sustenance. But that's neither here nor there.

So, I turned, trying to avoid the kid's intense glare.

The insolent fuck followed my every move! He didn't even smirk or smile. Just stared at me!

I was unbelievably uncomfortable. This fucker was being such an absolute prick, I just knew I'd have to blast my forehead into his jaw to teach him a lesson, forcing some poor mentally disabled McD's employee to mop up 14-year-old blood and teeth from the brick red tile floor.

I'd had enough. "What the fuck is your problem, kid?" I asked. I'd already prepared myself for some cocky answer from the kid, and picked out this huge whitehead on his chin for my headbutt target. My plan was to kneel low and drive up, using the strength of my legs to drive my skull through this kid's jaw. The confrontation would be over before it really started.

In a flash, this tremendously obese white woman comes from like ten feet away and bullrushes between us like mama hippo protecting her young. Then, she gets close enough to kiss me and spits all over me, "What the fuck is YOUR problem, DICK?"

"This fucking kid is my problem." I answered. "Staring at me. Breathing that stank breath all over me like a social retard."

She sucked her teeth at me. "He IS retarded, asshole." Then she dragged the kid off to the counter. Their order was ready.

Funny. He didn't look retarded to me.

STILL undecided?

Like most, I watched the debate this week. Heard all about "Joe the Plumber" and how Obama's tax plan was supposedly going to hurt him.

You know, I wish I was a plumber. I hear they make 250 grand a year.

Heard all about Bill Ayers.

Irrelevant.

And watched McCain's numerous sneers and grimaces. Looked like the Crypt Keeper squirted a few squirrels into his colostomy bag while on that stage.

After it was all over, I stayed up and watched the debate recaps. What interests me most about these things are the interviews with undecided voters.

I just don't get undecided voters. After 2 years of campaigning, thousands of stump speeches, and debate upon debate, you'd think everyone had picked a candidate by now.

Un-fucking-believably, this is just not the case. Some people are still sitting on the picket fence, willfully impaling their assholes on splintered stakes. These intellectuals "want to hear more" from the candidates.

More? Are you shittin' me? After three hour and a half long fucking debates, you need to hear more? You undecided voters are the most fucking moronic people in existence.

Put it this way. You go into a restaurant. Order breakfast. Breakfast comes with toast. White or wheat. That's it. You can't have both. You have to choose between the two.

Or go without.

Actually, that's the best choice you undecideds can make this election. If you haven't figured out the difference between Obama and McCain by now, don't bother choosing.

Come election day, stay at home. Because if I catch some undecided nutjob waffling back and forth, muttering "McCain", and, "Obama", in front of my polling station, I'm going to do what any concerned person should do: Call the police and tell them there's a suspicious schizo muttering nonsense in front of a polling station. Because the last thing we need is a bunch of coin-flipping idiots deciding this election.

We all remember what that earned us in 2000.

Red Pill, Blue Pill, Whatever

A few weeks ago, I offered an open forum for anyone who could explain how one figures out just how much money there is (or should be) in the world. Can we just print as much cash as we want? Or is there a cash ceiling, based upon something concrete?

Unsurprisingly, I didn't receive any feedback.

Which leads me to believe that the whole idea of a "cash-based economy" is something like The Matrix. It's nothing but a false construct, developed by the world's nations in order to keep the general populous toiling for "must-have" 62-inch HD TVs, iPhones and Wiis.

What would happen if people learned they could be happy without the HD, the XBOX 360, and the BMW?

Put it this way: If the common unwashed were to stop buying stupid shit, the whole fucking thing would fall apart. That's something the world's nations can't chance. And that's why they keep printing worthless cash, further bankrupting their own people.

What's that you say, Morpheus? Red Pill or Blue Pill?

It doesn't really matter, now. Does it?

JUICED!

Finally, O.J. Simpson has been found guilty and faces a life sentence. Granted, it's about thirteen years late and for the wrong crime, but hey: Beggars can't be choosers.

Enjoy prison life, shithead. It's about goddamned time.

To All Economists Out There: An Open Invitation

The American people went and took a big Congressional load on the chin this week as a fattened up 840 billion dollar bailout bill passed through the House and Senate. The bill will cost the taxpayer an average of $3000 apiece and aims to bailout the richest people and corporations in the country.

However, there's no guarantee that this plan will work. In fact, most experts think two trillion dollars more will be needed to shore up Wall Street. And even then, there's no guarantee that will be it.

With all these big numbers being tossed around, I'm at a loss. Millions. Billions. Trillions. Just how much money is out there, really?

The question to any and all economists reading this rant is this: How does one figure out how much money there is in the world? And what is the monetary system based on?  Is there a finite amount? Or is it infinite?

You've got an open forum here, economists. Explain the economy to me and I'll give you a shiny silver dollar. That's all I've got left..