That is petit moi celebrating the 4th of July, in the back yard here at Morehead Heights, just outside my massive hedge-labyrinth, The Befuddlement, relaxing with my portable, outdoors cooler, where I keep my emergency back-up libations. The contents of that cooler can keep me alive for up to 18 hours! Honest!
First off, let me apologize to my reader for posting so few remarks in June. It wasn't my fault, which you'll see, is Our Theme for this essay, narrowly beating out "The Industrial Revolution." It was all Little Dougie's fault. He was "On deadline" with his new book, and didn't have the time to devote to Me, as though his boring new book was important. It isn't even about me? So what's the point of it?
Anyway, his new book is done now. You can see the cover in the column to the right, but you have to cover up the cover of my book above it, in order to see it through my dazzle. It's that drab, yellow thing. Hmmm. Yellow. Appropriate for something he just pissed out. I'm reminded of the annual Edith Piaf. The scoring is based on distance, force, form, spelling, and hue.
What an amazing time to be an American! The joy and pride that fills our breasts every time we hear that we're the most-hated country on earth. And as if the love and attention that the Usurper Administration faux-American Government currently still illegally running our nation has attracted to us world wide hasn't been enough, look at all we've accomplished since doing away with Election Results back in 2000. Our Appointed President Dubya has invaded and rendered into a state of permanent chaos a nation that had nothing to do with 9-11, so that Dubya could show his dad that he had bigger ones, at the cost of thousands of American lives, in addition to all the Iraqi lives, guilty and innocent. Good Job!
Meanwhile Osama Bin Liner, the actual person responsible, and family-business partner of the Bush Family, has been allowed to roam free and uncaptured, year after year. "Mission Accomplished" indeed!
Meanwhile, at home, we've had a truly educational lesson in Justice. We saw, at length, ad nauseum, a boring, blond, entitled, waste-of-flesh, rich-bitch heiress, a woman whose IQ is lower than my titties on New Years Eve, sent to jail for the crimes of drunken driving, driving on a suspended licence (must be a tight cornerer!), and violating parole. What's wrong with the little moron? Doesn't she have a chauffeur?
Then we saw Scooter Libby not sent to jail. After all, he had merely revealed the identity of a CIA undercover operative, which is giving aid and comfort to the enemy, and therefore TREASON! No reason to be overly harsh with such a minor crime. Who can't understand why the fake-president wouldn't be at all bothered by a little thing like one of his staff members breaching National Security, and committing Treason, to get his president a bit of petty political revenge? Laugh it off. He was caught, wasn't he? Isn't getting caught punishment enough? It's not like he drove drunk on a suspended license, after all. Get some perspective, America.
Poor Paris. She went to jail right after attending the Grammy Awards. She probably just thought she was at a typical hip-hop after-party. When she found being locked up in a small room, away from her cell phone, depressing, she did what every woman there does, I'm sure, and got her doctor to write Sheriff Baca a note saying "Paris doesn't like it here. May she go home now please? Pretty please? Pretty Please with a check on it?", along with a courtesy check for Baca's new house in Boca, and Paris was let go home, to learn her lesson in justice while tanning by the pool, and chatting on her iPhone with other brainless people. I'm sure they do the exact same thing for every woman in that jail, which is why our jails are so underused these days.
And then they yanked her back into jail! Make up your minds! What happened? Did her check bounce? Well, at least she found God in jail, constantly having the Bible read to her. (When Paris says she's read something, she means it was read to her. She can't actually read, you know. She's illegible.) When Larry King asked her what her favorite Biblical passage was, and she couldn't even come up with ONE quote out of the whole, gigantic, overwritten book, I was relieved. I thought she was going to start reciting The Begats!
Speaking of speaking to Larry King, I see Paris was closely followed by Isaiah Washington. Larry King is Stop One on the It's-Not-My-Fault-Tour! Paris told us how it was "Unfair" for her to go to jail merely for committing crimes. Next Isaiah Washington told us how it wasn't his fault for making "Faggot" every third word out of his mouth all last year. It was TR Knight's fault for telling on him to Ellen. Of course Isaiah. How dare a gay man and a lesbian talking together on her show have the gall to discuss publicly his being defamed at work by a homophobic co-worker. The Cheek!
Plus, it was ABC's fault and his producer's fault. He did everything they told him to do. He went to "Gay Rehab" even when he says he knew there was no such thing, so we know that was sincere. He apologized when he was told to. (So not because he was actually - I don't know - sorry?) He even made a public service announcement he didn't believe in when ordered to, and they still wrote him out, despite his being pretty much despised nationally by this point.
Plus, it was Patrick Dempsey's fault! He made Isaiah attack him by being late, and by pissing him off.
Plus, it was because he's black! Everybody was afraid of a big black man on the set who didn't go around muttering "Yassah, massa." I believe he's hit the nail on the head! It was about race! True, the man who plays the head of the hospital is a big black man, but he probably does go around muttering "Yessah, massa." And then there's the black woman who is all the interns's boss, and who is mean and grouchy. But of course; she doesn't count as proof this is not a remotely racist show, because she's not a big black man. She's a big black, grouchy woman. No one is ever afraid of them.
But it is about race. Because if TR Knight had called Washington a "Nigger", he'd have been fired that day! "Faggot" took eight months to process.
Besides, Isaiah explained to Larry King that when he says "Faggot," he doesn't mean a gay person. He means "any weak person," so all gay people are weak. Larry, incisive interviewer that he is, bought this. So when a KKK Grand Wizard says "Nigger," he doesn't mean a black person; he'd be referring to all people not held in high esteem in the white South. Buy that one, Isaiah?
I see myself today, in my soaring Pride to be an American, like a great American Bald Eagletrix, only I'm not bald. The turbans are strictly a fashion choice. Or a religious one. Whichever works. Here we are, on the 231st 4th of July (Did you know that prior to 1776, there was no 4th of July?. It went right from the 3rd to the 5th, like I often still do.), and America is branching out --- constitutionally! In the year of No Lord 2007, we have added a 4th branch to the Federal Government. Up till now we have had the Judicial, the Legislative, and the Executive Branches. But now we have added The Vice-Presidential Branch. And, since the Vice-Presidential Branch is not in The Constitution, it is exempt from The Constitutional! It can, alone of our four government branches, operate free of all those tiresome checks and balances that have been tripping up Dubya's untiring efforts to make America the paradise he has been crafting. Dick Cheney is a genius!
Will Rogers (Divine man. He did me hogtied!) once said, "I knew two men; one of them went up the Amazon, while the other became Vice President of the United States. Neither was ever heard of again." Where is Will when we need him?
Dick Cheney naturally celebrated Independence Day with particular glee this year, since he is now independent of all government restraint. He bought a big box of home fireworks, and set them all off himself in an undisclosed location. (Believed to be near Lake Tahoe) 12 people were blasted in the face, but it's all right; they were all close family friends, and they have all apologized to the Vice President.
I see the American Eagle and I soaring off into The Future together, as in this vision of the Far Future: a rare color still of myself and an eagle in my 1927 silent science-fiction outer space spectacle Beyond Belief! Incidentally, the futuristic year we were trying to foresee in this picture was 1980. Spot on, as you can see.