every time. i seal the ballot up, look at it. mighty pretty, super clean and democratic-looking, with my signature on it that the king county folks will challenge like they do every election.
then i cast my beaming gaze aside a second, and see that thing. idiot machine for holding paper. not even useful for mailing. only good for hiding my vote from the prying eyes of the state department (and, frankly, with jerkoffs like mckenna running the legal end of this state, the more protection the better. yes, i know he's the att'y general and not sec'y of state, dweeb).
it's enough to ruin a man's faith in the electoral system. i mean, more than the electoral college has already, not to mention the god-help-us scary fascist tea-party CHOICES people seem to make with their votes. jesus wept. and i say that as a godless man.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
i have many names
not all of them savory, not all of them strictly things that i have been called. but here i stand before you and declare:
fuck you, mr. president dude with the sonorous voice who sweet-talked all of us into electing you. fuck you and the debt ceiling deal you rode in on.
you had at least two ways (according to nate silver and other people) to take matters into your own hands and just raise that sonuvabitch without precondition, contingency, or any side effect except whining (and if you don't like whining, seriously, grow some balls).
instead, you made cause with a guy named boner. which brings us to the other side of the equation.
to y'all christian materialists, mindless drones, suburban cowboys, southern racists, and former kmart executives who make up a rightward side of the aisle that will go unmentioned, i can only say what i saw written on a wall in the scenic medieval town of Schwäbisch Hall:
IHR KÖNNT MEIN ARSCH LECKEN
you would sell your sister for a tax cut. a tax cut which only the richest .1% of americans (of which coincidentally you are one) will enjoy, and will not actually spend on anything except to use it to pump up our swollen financial derivatives sector, which is already about as predictable and harmless as a rhino on PCP.
okay. enough gibberish for now.
mahalo nui loa
p.s.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/IHaveManyNames
fuck you, mr. president dude with the sonorous voice who sweet-talked all of us into electing you. fuck you and the debt ceiling deal you rode in on.
you had at least two ways (according to nate silver and other people) to take matters into your own hands and just raise that sonuvabitch without precondition, contingency, or any side effect except whining (and if you don't like whining, seriously, grow some balls).
instead, you made cause with a guy named boner. which brings us to the other side of the equation.
to y'all christian materialists, mindless drones, suburban cowboys, southern racists, and former kmart executives who make up a rightward side of the aisle that will go unmentioned, i can only say what i saw written on a wall in the scenic medieval town of Schwäbisch Hall:
IHR KÖNNT MEIN ARSCH LECKEN
you would sell your sister for a tax cut. a tax cut which only the richest .1% of americans (of which coincidentally you are one) will enjoy, and will not actually spend on anything except to use it to pump up our swollen financial derivatives sector, which is already about as predictable and harmless as a rhino on PCP.
okay. enough gibberish for now.
mahalo nui loa
p.s.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/IHaveManyNames
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