|
01~31~02
Many people have complained about Aaron McGruder's incredibly inept comic strip, The Boondocks. And I could complain too, but not for any political reasons. The Boondocks immature take on politics makes Bloom County look like Chomsky. The strip suffers from the same problem as most every funny strip in the funny papers; it ain't funny. So what if some debauched tapeworm used choking on a pretzel as a cover-up for falling down drunk? Sure, obfuscatory tactics and outright lies are unbecoming of the leader of the free world, a free world where one has the right to fall down drunk. I know it clearly points to a larger problematic arena in which lies are used treacherously to slice the world up into profitable little sections for rich oil company executives and their political enablers, but truly that has nothing to do with a bottle of Malibu and the corner of the presidential coffee table. I too once injured myself from stupid drunken antics that left a bruise on my body, and I too made up a sober parallel bruise origin story that wasn't quite as lame as George's, although it was close. I did this not to spare the country from my buffoonery, but to spare my own sullied pride. Besides, the Bush family obviously suffers from addictive behaviors. It doesn't take a graduate of Psych 101 to look at the track record of that Bush family and see they're living life out from under the weight of addictive personality types and some drug and booze loving genes. Some people are simply predetermined towards debauched lives fueled by liquor, greed and lies so please, give George W. a break, man! He can't help it; it's like making fun of a retard; yes, it's an easy laugh, but it just isn't a very nice thing to do. Shame on you Aaron McGruder for making fun of a dysfunctional alcoholic who is simply attempting to make a clean breast of things and live his life. George is a very special person, and he's doing very well considering his condition. Yes, he is. He's a big boy. Isn't that right? Aren't you a big boy, now? Aren't you, George? Why, yes! Why, yes he is. 01~30~02 I wasn't feeling so hot last night. George's speech was, if I may put it nicely, a horrific train wreck of infernal blimp proportions, but at least he didn't bother to even slightly obfuscate the lies. George is a brave, honest bald-faced liar. Permit the contradiction of an honest liar, but one can lie as a matter of obvious course. We know he's lying; he knows he's lying. He knows we know he's lying, and we know he knows we know he's lying. Thus, an honest liar. What do you want him to do, say, "Hey, folks, I'm lying. The Union is not strong. Every last fiber of the world is unraveling, and it's because of the actions of the United States, and more significantly my administration. Treaties will blow up in our faces like a string of firecrackers now that we lit the match by ignoring the ABM treaty, but that's par for the course around here. Hey, that reminds me, 'What do you get when you throw a bunch of white people into an incinerator? Firecrackers!'" Ha! I'm going to MacArthur Park, buy myself a fake I.D., start up a new life as Carlos Castronova, and cross the border down to old Mexico and then years later make a glorious return back to the states as a hard working immigrant laborer, perhaps on a Christmas tree farm. Carlos Castronova, King of Christmas, Queen of the Christmas tree fields. Pleasures himself with a bandsaw, cutting off evil at the root. Put an angel on top and make it dance. 01~29~02 I'm writing this while watching Gawj's State of the Union address. I need to do something to stop my stomach from churning. This erstwhile idiot's priorities are about as out of line as any I've ever seen. Every word out of his mouth about increasing military spending, creating more law enforcement, tighter border patrols and everything else that smacks of a sick, diseased police state where the people have no rights but to go shopping and buy a new TV is pushing the digesting egg and onion burrito I ate for supper another inch back up my esophagus. Such a basketful of lies hasn't been dressed up and paraded before the people of America since Gawj was sworn in as president. The military deserves pay raises, the finest and most expensive equipment the American people can pay for and Gawj is going to get it for them and simultaneously he's somehow going to create more law enforcement, pay the pigs more for their efforts, give tax breaks to every rich man and corporation in gunshut range and put a quality teacher in every classroom. Bullshit. Something has to give and I guarantee it won't be the military or the rich or the pigs. What a deranged, smug faced bitch this country has for a president. 01~25~02 I was shot right through the head. That's how my dream ended that woke me up at four in the morning, the same time the alarm woke me up to drive to Costa Mesa yesterday. Shot right through the rolled up passenger side window. In the dream, seems that Kirsten and I were dead out of funds and reduced to sleeping in the car. No matter where we parked, she wasn't happy with the noise levels. Probably because we we're meandering along in the SUV through downtown Los Angeles. Downtown L.A. is actually quite quiet at night, but in my dream there was more hustle and bustle. Shit, there were also Borg cubes soundlessly scooting by overhead, navigating through the maze of skyscrapers, and that ain't going on in real life either. Anyway, Kirsten finally parks the car somewhere she deems as silent and there's an immediate reaction from two cholo-hoods whose car we've evidently parked in. It's a nice car too, if not a little worse for wear. It think it was a ninety forty Ford, the kind with a narrow slit for a back window. The paint job was poor, in fact I think it was only black primer. Both the guys are Mexican, but they look like Snoop Dogg except not quite so black. One of them holds a can of WD-40 and wants to move his car out past us so he can work on it. The other wears a red ball cap and holds a small black hand gun with a gold accent around the tip of the barrel. He shoots me right in my forehead, right in that place everyone's Pineal gland starts breaking through in From Beyond. Ugh, between writing the
nonsense above and now, I wrote up two CD reviews I had left to do from
the last big batch of crap came knocking at my door. Both Cd's contained
the same band: The Lawrence Arms. The older of the two Cd's was a
split album they put out with a band called the Chinkees. Here are
some of the things I wrote about their first musical outpouring:
Breakdown:
Most fabulous part of the year for Laura and him: Fast Track, sealing his and his father's administration records indefinitely, war on evil-doers, 90% approval rating, and various misunderestimations. Meet the Virus updated with Whisky show photos. The show went amazingly well. From the first disonant guitar chord of Greed to the furious finale of three classic Naked Aggression songs, the crowd was going absolutely ape shit. The Whisky's "You Stage Dive/You Go Home" policy was causing quite a bit of trouble for both audience members and security alike. Meet the Virus was bracketed by the Fixtures, playing before them, and Litmus Green head lining the show after a very tough act to follow. 01~16~02 How does one manage to choke on a pretzel, pass out and bash his ugly mug against the floor leaving a bruise? What the hell goes on in the Whitehouse? I've heard some crazy shit in my time, and choking on a pretzel, passing out and hitting ones face on the floor is as lame an excuse as Divine saying, "I tripped getting onto the bus and hit my eye on the fare box!" I'd have much more respect for Bush if he had simply said he'd tripped and hit his eye on the fare box. Christ, couldn't Clinton have said he choked on a pretzel, came to and Monica was performing a rather, ahem, bizarre form of CPR? I'd buy it. Happens to me all the time. Try the "I choked on a pretzel" excuse for all your foibles, miscues and troubles. "Honey? Where were you last night?" "Choked on a pretzel." "Why did you launch the nukes?" "Choked on a pretzel, passed out and accidently turned my access key, called the vice president, had him turn his key and fell and ht my head on the button." Maybe the hi-jackers on
September 11th weren't trying to crash the planes but were just choking
on pretzels, passing out and accidentally crashing. I'm sure that's
all it was. Come on Bin Laden! Create an excuse. We all
do it. I mean, that's why I haven't been writing these past few days.
I've been busy choking on pretzels.
"Public schools where scores failed to improve two years in a row [on standardized tests] could receive more federal aid, but if scores still failed to improve, low-income students could receive tutoring or transportation to another public school." Do you see that? You can't throw a rock into a lake without displacing water. Do you see that? Low-income students who receive transportation to another public school (assumedly in a non-low-income neighborhood) will displace high-income students already in that school. Where will these high-income students be sent? If law demands, and the resources of the school dictate, then they'll be sent packing to the low-income neighborhood schools followed by the furious outcry of all their high-income parents, "Why we worked hard for our money and we moved to this neighborhood for a reason! How dare the government make my son go to school there with those people!" I can't imagine why a Republican president would want to potentially piss off rich, predominantly white voters by making their children share valuable readin' 'n' addin' an' a'subtractin' time wit' po' chillern because that reading and writing and adding and subtracting is all a child needs to get by. To quote George: "The first step to making sure that a child is not shuffled through [the system] is to test that child as to whether or not he or she can read and write, or add and subtract." George's thinking here
seems to be that if you can read and write, then there's no reason to strain
yourself also learning to perform such complicated arithmetical functions
as adding and subtracting and vice versa. But I'm way off track here.
What this education bill, now signed into law, actually initiates is an
effacing of class lines. If we once bussed students about based on
race, then surely this bill indicates it will now be based on class, and
only the richest of parents who are willing to shell out the cash for private
schools will be insulated from this gutting of the class system.
George W. Bush may have unwittingly initiated a necessary redistribution
of tax generated wealth across low-income and high-income educational districts
which will equalize the quality of education and resources available to
both rich and poor students. If education is, like so many have said,
the foundation of any society then from this Marxist foundation may a new
Marxist America burgeon forth from the delicate seedling planted by George
Jr. God damn, his papa must be proud. Dontcha think?
"Public schools where scores failed to improve two years in a row [on standardized tests] could receive more federal aid, but if scores still failed to improve, low-income students could receive tutoring or transportation to another public school." I'm sure the overcrowded school system will be able to accommodate that provision without any problem. Just send your low-income students away and give the rich kids the fair shakes they deserve. It's such a clever bill; it assumes children from low-income families are somehow bound to be the ones who need the improving. From George's p.o.v. that's probably true since all you need is money, money, money to buy your retarded 6th grade educated ass the throne in the white house. If you're poor with a sixth grade education, well, then, welcome to Burger King may I take your order? "Under the bill passed last month, a school in which scores failed to improve over six years could be restaffed." For that one I need to give but a short barking Edna Krabopple, "HA!" With whom do we, as a nation, plan on restaffing our schools with? And just what union will allow this? Or is grand pooba Bushes' idea to get rid of teacher's unions by year end 2007? Shit, it's working in Texas. "Schools must close gaps in scores between wealthy and poor students and white and minority students." That's the 12 year plan. Close the gap between the fucking math scores of the wealthy and poor rather than closing the monetary gap between rich and poor, and rather than closing the gap on the inequalities and injustices between whites and minorities. That squatting son of a bitch of a president is one sick twist. "Bush said, 'We have large challenges here in America. There is no greater challenges than that every child, every single child regardless of where they live, income of their family, receive a first-class education in America.'" No greater challenges?
That all children receive a first-class education is, let's count now,
exactly one challenge. It should also read, "income of their families,"
for proper subject verb agreement unless all them po' children got them
the same family. Okay, now I'm being a touch pedantic, but so what?
The education reform laws are about as useful as Richard Speck in girls'
dormitory or, similarly, a Bush in the white house.
|
|
Sometimes
the path of the future is spelled out. Sometimes what lies ahead
is clouded. And sometimes where the world is headed can be seen in
the toys of our children who, quite ostensibly enough, are the future.
Just take a look at caucasian LAPD officer West. Officer West is
a fully posable little fellow complete with mace, billy club, shades, hand
cuffs and gun. He's available at the LAPD's online store and prepares
children for their future as part of that thin blue line which grows thicker
and thicker year after year. If you haven't managed to stick it out
and get that high school diploma or its equivalency in order to qualify
as an officer of the law, then Mattel indicates where you may find gainful
employment. Black skinned Barbie works her cute little behind off
at the neighborhood McDonald's restaurant. Better lookout black Barbie,
you don't want that deep fryer oil to splatter and scald your pretty bare
legs because that'd really hurt. Together, handsome, virile officer
West and sexy, nubile black Barbie point out the path for millions and
millions of America's young ones. And isn't McDonald's the perfect
stop for that hungry little cop on the go?
