Sunday, June 24, 2012

Just Filled With God's Love

I've acquired a new friend who took issue with me about my anti-theist point of view. Her argument was that belief in God saved her sanity following the death of her son.

Considering how great the loss she suffered, and wondering how I would handle it, I hesitated to tell her that not even this kind of tragedy could sway me. Then, accidentally, I came across a site labeled commanded by some guy called Gary and I realized that I can never sanction any form of religion because it just encourages the crazies.

This GP blog appears to be a political site where there is no citation made for any claim....just one opinionated anti-liberal screed after another, and drawing analogies that have little basis in logic.

It gives no information about the background or history of the author but, if you click on his name, that single bit of intelligence (and I use that noun with irony) leads you to

And  there you find the genesis of the filth he and his followers spew in the ungrammatical, misspelled, hate-filled commentary  we've come to expect from the Religious Right. (Because this URL ends in Org, I fear it might be an entity that is sucking away at government funding.)

Now, I must admit that I have risen on my high horse and called people like  Limbaugh, Cantor, McDonnell, Thomas and others a lot of bad things such as stupid, assinine, batshit crazy and even twerp and turtleface.  But I can't recall ever wishing that any of them get a disease and die. Nor have I ever threatened to knock anyone's teeth out. What a piker I must be.

But this is the kind of rhetoric that issues from the mouths of those who are filled with God's love. 

Besides getting rid of Citizens United, we must start proceedings  against the laws that allow religious entities to avoid taxes. If they want to function in society as a political force, they need to pay for the privilege of agitating for political candidates and issues.

And beyond that, I think I might start praying for the Rapture to be true.



Saturday, June 16, 2012

Karl Rove: Bag Man Collects Advertising $$$

I don't consider Georgie Porgie perceptive. But, like an idiot savant, he does have a talent:  Distilling people to their essence. In dubbing him "Turd Blossom," W homed in on Karl Rove's likely dung heap origins.

What made me think of Turd Blossom? Because there was his face (along with those of some deep pocketed creeps) on Huff Po's political banner this morning, grinning like a debauched cherub as he reportedly takes command of the Goppers'  $71 Million Plan to oust Obama and put in his place a man the movers and shakers can buy to manage their affairs.

Billionaires appear to be a dime a dozen....and almost all of them  favor Republican candidates. That seems a reasonable result of self interest, but it does make you wonder why so many of this country's great unwashed side with these plutocrats when there isn't a chance in hell that they will benefit from their efforts unless they get hired as one of their butlers, chauffeurs or maids.

Except for a few liberal millionaires who have brains and a heart, the Goppers seem  to have a lock on the cash. But even so, they bitch about all the money that  goes to Democratic candidates from unions..... and George Soros.
"The AFL-CIO, the nation's largest federation of unions, contributed $2.3 million to super PACs through April 2012. The federation, boasting 12.2 million members, is made up of 57 national and international labor unions. Its funds come from the dues paid by members" 

They're complaining about the unions' $2.3 million? That's chump change! But it gives political bag men an excuse for their existence. If the public understood how uneven the advertising playing field really was, it would be hard to generate the kind of hysterical pushback these titans require to see their filthy ideas succeed.

If the dummies the bag men's ads succeed in convincing -  to vote for the well financed loudmouths who rely on lies and exaggeration - ever found out that "louder and oftener" don't equate to "truth and reality,"  they'd be up the creek  where they belong.

Advertising gets the job hook or by crook.  When it's political, you can bet it's both. 

Hey, man on the street! Hey, WalMart mom! Before you cast your vote in November, let me clue you in on something. One of the most successful beneficiaries of advertising to the mindless is the Venus Flytrap.


Monday, June 11, 2012

How Now, You Cow (Redux)

Could it be there is a chastity belt in your future?

Could Rick Santorum and Virginia's Bob McDonnell be any more out of touch with this epoch?

Actually, I'm not exactly sure how long an epoch is, but nothing either of them says carries any association with anything I believe or have experienced, and I lived most of my life in both halves of the last century.

Unfortunately, those who are being born in this century are going to have a lot to deal with if the religious nuts who are, in the main, white, middle-aged males buttressed with Viagra, and who are swanning about on the political stage advising women they are just so much meat.

Are you a woman who dares to entertain the idea of ending an unwanted pregnancy? It's legal but, damn it, before you can take advantage of this right, you must submit to the governor of Virginia. Lie down, spread your legs and let some guy probe you with a wand that isn't his own.


We are being told contraception is bad. It leads to - heaven forefend! -  inappropriate activity like sex for fun and pleasure.  We can't have that! Any woman who dares to want to get laid just for the hell of it might,  in a few years, find herself in the public square with her hands and feet locked in the stocks while upstanding male churchgoers chuck rotten eggs at her.

 Or, remember the ducking stool?

What kind of a society of guilt-ridden masochists and sadists are these bulwarks of religion trying to turn the population of this one-time democratic-loving, freedom-pursuing - and, Christ, yes, religious-free country into? 

This is a resurrection of the Inquisition.

Ladies...get out your pitchforks and get into the fight. 


(This was repeated from February 22, 2012 blog entry that was termed "spam" by someone and the URL was removed)

Monday, June 4, 2012

Monday Morning Meaninglessness

When I started my blog a little over a year ago, a very old friend (who has since been sent to his great reward after being struck by a speeding vehicle...a circumstance I am not drawing any correlation to) said, "You have to make up your mind what you are going to write about so people will know what they are going to get when they click on your site."

His critique was correct and I have settled on ranting about religion and politics, since those two topics are guaranteed to make the greatest number of friends!

Nevertheless, I sometimes get the giggles and want to share some of life's absurdities.

I just finished reading a "cozy mystery" where the author spent 350 pages leading to the denouement...and then accomplished it in about 20 paragraphs.

She obviously got bored, and I can relate to that. I am reproducing here a poem I wrote in the eighth grade and which has become a standing joke I share with my daughter whenever something wildly  too  previous  comes to our attention. For your possible amusement, here is:

Captain Kidd 

When pirates sailed the seven seas,
   They buried their treasures 'neath the trees
Of some deserted isle....where they perhaps had lingered awhile.

But as these pirates rough and bold
   Buried their treasures of jewels and gold,
There appeared upon the ocean....Captain Kidd with a curious notion.

For he had papers of a privateer
   And roamed the seas far and near,
To harry the French and sink their ships....the order had come from the King's own lips.

But then as fast as doom it struck.
   Captain Kidd had lost his luck.
On the horizon then appeared, a Portuguese Caravelle....for which they steered.

Without Kidd's consent
   And with murderous intent,
The crew opened fire....the Captain's future looked hopeless and dire.

And so a price was put on the head of Captain Kidd who now is dead.