Skip to main content

Election 2012: Here's how it'll go down....


It's an election year. The Republitards are trying to figure out who they want to run for President. So far, it's down to four. Four complete fucking morons and social retards. I swear, it's like they're TRYING to lose! One idiotic statement after another. Romney just wants to rule the world and piss on the poor. Santorum wants a theocracy. Ron Paul is still too busy trying to tell people what he thinks they want to hear to be bothered with finding out what people want. And then there's Newt...who is just bat shit fucking crazy!

Then there's the Democraps. Four more years of Obama. Four more years of weirdo right wing groups doubting his citizenship, race, ethnicity, religion and shoe size. Four more years of trying to do the right thing but often falling short. Four more years of him singing. (at least we currently have a HOT 1st lady)

What about the "other" parties. Who cares. The media won't allow it. There's no one like Ross Perot (who if you recall, took 20% of the vote last time he ran). The media has made damned sure that since that time, that the only "other party" candidates you'll hear about are the loonies. And all disqualified on any number or grounds.

So, do you want to know how it's going to go down? The election that is...
It'll go down like this: we'll have months and months of lies, mudslinging, disinformation, sloganeering, misdirection, more lies, promises, debates, a crisis here and there...and then, finally, the election. We will all, hopefully, get out and vote. Some will vote often. Some will coerce others to vote against the best interests of this nation and the voter's individual will...and someone will be elected. Then what?

Four more years of business as usual. If you think voting for either is going to change a damned thing, you're a bigger fucking idiot than the politicians...and that's just how Washington wants you to be. We're all made safe & harmless by our complicity with playing the game. There is no change because we refuse to change. There is no revolution because we refuse to revolt...we might miss our favorite TV program!

If we want real change, first we need to decide what changes we want. Then we have to decide how to go about those changes. But do we really want change? Or is that too much responsibility for a nation of people who can't be bothered to switch off their media long enough to fart out an original thought?

It doesn't matter really. We're all corporate slaves. Like it or not. We're all bought and paid for. You can delude yourself into thinking you're not...while you continue to blab on your cell phone and watch your obnoxiously oversized TV, while driving a car designed to be ineffecient and disposable. Just remember who really owns this country now...and it ain't us.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Bluesy Melody and a Scratchy Photograph

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't born in the mountains. Nor had he been raised in a cave. His appearance, though, often led people to think otherwise. A barber's chair was as likely a place for him to visit as the moon. I don't believe he had ever shaved. His hair, long and unkempt, looked even longer thanks to his seemingly endless beard, which was braided and knotted at the bottom. If unfurled, it probably would have dipped well below his waist.  His mannerisms and manner, while peculiar, were so only in that he was almost religiously polite. What at first glance might appear stand-offish was nothing more than his attempts at being inobtrusive. He was almost like some Appalachian monk, raised by a society trapped in the past, who occasionally ventured into town. He was extremely well-read and more tech savvy than most teenagers. Utmost, he maintained his privacy. No one knew just where he lived. He came and went at his own leisure, unnoticed by the world until he mad...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Trembling Hand

He had a deep-rooted fear of the sky. Wind scared him. Trees terrified him. A thunderstorm could practically paralyze him. He wasn't always like this.  Age often brings with it odd phobias. As the years pass, one witnesses many things, and makes a quiet mental note of all of them.  In time, those horrors from the past take root and blossom into full-fledged anxiety and panic.  Wind, storms, and even the trees - these made sense. One good storm could bring a tree down on his house. Or his neighbor's. He no longer had the strength to remove the trees, and didn't have the funds to pay a professional to do the job.  But the sky?  Even on a clear, sunny day - looking up at the sky caused dread. He noticed the deepening blue knowing that just beyond was the void of space.  Nothing was coming from there - was it? He wasn't concerned with aliens or meteors. He doubted a species advanced enough to reach us would want anything to do with us. A meteor large enough to ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Blank Page

He'd been trapped in his house for five years.  Not imprisoned exactly. No court had ordered it. No chains held him there. His own body had simply staged a quiet rebellion and won. A series of health problems had reduced his world to a few safe pathways through a three-bedroom house in a respectable neighborhood with a respectable yard. He had once traveled the world. He had stood on foreign streets where he could not read the signs or understand the language, and somehow had felt less lost there than he did now standing at the bottom of his own staircase. The stairs terrified him. They waited every morning like a dare. Go ahead, old man. Climb. One wrong step and they would finish what time had started. So his life became measured in reachable things. The bathroom. The kitchen. The chair beside the window. The distance from the couch to the front door on bad days. The slow geography of decline. His wife still worked. Still moved through the world with purpose. They loved each othe...
Post a Comment
Read more