Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Grave New Court: Alito Is Confirmed

And so it is done: Alito will wear the coveted black jockstrap and mark the latest in a string of victories for the conservative movement, whose push to change the face of the courts is succeeding beyond their wildest dreams. One more like-minded judge and the ramifications could be felt for generations: the complexion of personal freedom will be redefined, the power of checks and balances will be overhauled, and the executive will ass-slap the rest of the government like never before. I’ve been scanning the papers and columns for early headlines; reaction is unsurprisingly mixed:

  • “Alito Confirmed to Replace That Moderate Traitor Bitch”
  • “Federalist Society Instrumental in Turning Back Clock, Skull-Fucking America”
  • “Defeated, Democrats Promise to Regroup and Revamp Bold Whining Strategy”
  • “Poll: 46 Percent of Americans Have Never Heard of Samuel Alito”
  • “Alito, Alito, Alito! Conservatives Party Like It’s 1799!”
  • “Filibuster Busted: Kerry and Kennedy Reflect on Their Failed Attempt to Destroy Democrats”
  • “Drunk Bush Supporter in Pennsylvania Rejoices, Hates ‘Dumb Gay Judges’ Anyway”

Friday, January 27, 2006

Live Review: Coldplay

It’s not all work and no play around here. Yes, I love me the politics, but I’m also a part-time music geek. And with that serving as my only qualification, I’m glad to offer my impressions of a recent Coldplay concert. I’m not familiar with much of Coldplay’s output, but a friend offered me his ticket to last night’s show, and who turns down a free concert?

I arrived at the arena late but still absolutely stoked for a good dose of live rock ‘n’ roll. I darted through the crowded concourse and bought a huge tub of popcorn and a box of Red Vines. After lecturing the staff at the beer stand for neglecting to supply High Life, I found my way to my seat. The sizeable crowd was just filling up after the opening act, so I knew it wouldn’t be too long until the band hit the stage.

After about 15 minutes the house went dark and the crowd started going crazy. My mouth was stuffed full of licorice but I stood up and cheered along with the diehard fans. Then shadows crossed the stage and another burst of crowd noise rose from the front of the arena. This was it: Coldplay were about to kick it.

A moment later the stage lights fired up and I could hear the opening notes mixing with the approval of a frantic crowd. It was either piano or guitar or both, but I found it difficult to discern because I sensed a powerful wooziness roll through my body. I was so stunned by the insurrection in my gut that my vision crossed up. A moment later the sounds all around me slowed down to a blur and an acute pain stabbed my groin, growing sharper with every breath.

Naturally, all I could think to do was spit out the licorice and get the fuck out of there, but not having any reasonable place or receptacle in which to spit, I just tried to chew through the pain. An excited young woman to my right started screaming “It’s Yellow! It’s Yellow! It’s Yellow!” and her boyfriend put his arm around her. They cuddled a bit while violent pangs of nausea bubbled up from my stomach. I could feel my knees buckling. I tried to put my hand on the seat in front of me, I tried to wipe the sweat that was gathering on my face, I tried to finish chewing the licorice, but I knew I was a goner.

Meanwhile Chris Martin’s voice was ringing out of the band’s amplifiers. Absolute pain the likes of which I've never experienced slammed into me. My body convulsed, I heard the words “Look at the stars, look how they shine…,” just as I felt my legs go limp and my body start to fall, my face crashing into the seatback in front of me. I lost consciousness for a moment, but when I regained a trace of my senses all I noticed were half-eaten Red Vines and a riot of light and noise fading to black.


Nurses at the emergency room told me I was a great patient. I don’t remember the ambulance or my first two hours at the hospital, but the EMTs reported that I pepped up as soon as I was wheeled out of the arena. After about 12 hours of rest and the occasional check-in by hospital staff, I was released to a friend who took me home. I’ve been cozy ever since with Netflix and a diet of applesauce, vanilla wafers, and tea. Funny how after all these years I still find Rocky and Bullwinkle amusing.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Nation Urged Not to Wake Sleeping Democrats

Mysterious Encounters Increasing Along With Public Worry

Washington, DC--Spank Media

Public anxiety spiked this week with reports that mysterious encounters with sleeping Democrats are on the rise. Initially thought of as harmless incidents, authorities in several states are now working together to understand the unprecedented problem. Frightening a growing number of victims, the sightings usually occur during early morning hours, but have been reported at all hours of the day. Officials urge citizens who encounter sleeping Democrats not to wake them, but to get to a safe location and call the police.

Clarissa Barnett, one of the first victims in her suburban Virginia community, urges the public to heed police advice. The 32-year-old pharmacist was shaken to her core two weeks ago when a typical morning workout turned into a raging nightmare. As she was rounding a corner on the home stretch of her jog, Barnett spotted a pack of Democrats sleeping directly in her path. Shocked, she stopped in her tracks and immediately looked for an escape route.

"I stopped all movement and tried to quiet my breathing," recounts Barnett. "I don't know how I kept myself from making a sound--I just did. Then something kicked in and told me: Don't you dare make a sound, Clarissa. If you want to see your family again, just stay calm." After gathering her wits in those tense few moments, Barnett says she was able to tiptoe to the other side of the street without waking the Democrats. Although she couldn't name any of them, she thought a couple of them looked like "real big shots."

"I feel so lucky to have gotten away unscathed," Barnett admits. "They were just so horrible, sprawled out on the sidewalk like a pile of mannequins. They had that dead look about them."

Police say Ms. Barnett's experience matches up with other sightings in a number of ways, especially because they could not find the sleeping Democrats Barnett reported once officers arrived at the scene. This confounding similarity has proved a major hindrance for authorities, now investigating sightings in 10 states. With their progress stalled, police are asking residents in all affected communities to come forward if they have information about these or any other encounters.

Unfortunately, the investigative efforts are slow going at best. "All we can do is study the victims' stories and look for clues," said one exasperated police official. "We know that the Democrats are always dressed in the formal business attire they wear at work and on TV, and that they're always sleeping in small groups. We know that each victim experienced an acute sense of panic after encountering the Democrats, but that no attacks have occurred. We also know that in almost every case, they were sleeping in haphazard positions." Beyond this is where police admit the leads are few and the details murky. "It's true, we're going on guesswork to a great extent. But based on what little we know, if you happen upon them, the safest option is to just let them sleep."

For Clarissa Barnett, this strategy is only a minor comfort. Since her encounter, she hasn't slept through the night. The self-proclaimed health nut can't bring herself to jog anywhere, save the treadmill in her basement. Just walking from her house to her car in the driveway has become a harrowing ritual.

"I just want to get my life back on track," she confides. "Right now I see sleeping Democrats in my dreams. I'm paranoid they'll be around every corner, or stacked up and snoring at the bottom of the stairs, lying there with their mouths wide open. I just want it to be over. I just want to feel normal again."

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Preview: Santorum 2006

The pundits have been suggesting for a while that Rick Santorum is in for a tough fight this fall. It seems he's going to have to run an airtight campaign chock full of solid ideas to balance the needs of moderate GOP voters with those of the Schiavo faithful. What's a fuckwit to do? I can't help but daydream a little bit about what he'll be proposing. In case you're a Santorum staffer helping to shape his 2006 platform, these ideas are on the house (you're welcome):


  • Justice Sunday MANIA. The biggest, baddest Justice Sunday event ever. "This time it's for keeps." All the major players will be there to pile-drive Satan out of America: Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, Sam Brownback, Mel Gibson, Bill Frist, and many more! If we're lucky, the event will culminate in a cage match between Susan Sarandon and Ann Coulter. You better pay attention, 'cause Jesus Christ ain't fuckin' around anymore.
  • Birth Control Aborts Abortion Campaign. In a bold move, Santorum will unveil a plan to endorse a new form of birth control with the express purpose of aborting abortion. The plan will call for 24-hour monitoring of all married and unmarried couples to ensure no sexual activity of any kind takes place, effectively ending abortion. Procreation will occur through Government-sanctioned and chaperoned "conception trials" between married couples who have agreed to create and raise children of "acceptable moral clarity."
  • The Spouting of More Crazy Shit. Following up on a number of public-record doozies, Santorum will design and spout at least four strategically-timed "rhetoric bombs" destined to stir voter interest and provoke loads of insufferable blathering from the media's talking heads.
  • Reject Raising the Minimum Wage Again (Fighting for America's Families). In an effort to protect American families from the tyranny of the ungrateful low-wage workforce, Santorum will vow to keep the minimum wage exactly where it is. Hard-working families should not have to suffer from the economic fallout of a wage hike, plain and simple.
  • Rekindle Love for Intelligent Design. After a brief break-up, Santorum will open his arms once again to embrace Intelligent Design. The couple will renew their vows live on the 700 Club. The groom will wear a conservative tuxedo with a small white boutonniere. The bride will wear the unmistakable cloak of masked fascism.

Or not. But if you settle down in front of the tube for a steamy Saturday night with the stars of C-SPAN, don't be surprised if you find Santorum's adopted these ideas. You heard it here first.