“Mr. Vice President, I have a subpoena from the House Investigative Committee on…well, Everything. Could you sign here, please?”
UPDATE: Holy crap! It’s Christmas in November!
“Mr. Vice President, I have a subpoena from the House Investigative Committee on…well, Everything. Could you sign here, please?”
UPDATE: Holy crap! It’s Christmas in November!
I’m in a foul mood today from lack of sleep and surplus of soot. It’s just the right attitude to cap off this kidney stone of an election. I don’t know how many robocalls we’ll get today or how much extra campaign junk we’ll find on our doorstep, but I just want it all to end. I want the political consultants to get irritable bowel, I want the candidates to get consciences (and then give all of their money to the poor and go do something useful, like rebuild New Orleans), and I want the Edward Thomas Management Company to go bankrupt and have to sell Casa del Mar and Shutters to the city, who will then turn them into emergency shelters for battered women. Or penguins. Whatever.
I really want to be hopeful that there will be a Democratic majority in Congress, and that it will also have the spine to fire up the investigative committees and start showing just how poorly the Bush Administration has run, well, everything. I’m not holding my breath, though, about the victory or the subpoenas, just ’cause it’s going to be a long slog of counts and recounts and Brooks Brothers riots. It will be an ugly, ugly November (and maybe December).
But at least the phone calls will stop. The campaign junk mail will stop. And, God willing, the penguins will have a place to call home.
It’s been a busy two weeks since our last venture to the mailbox, and it ain’t getting any prettier. Some new candidate mailers, some ballot initiative screeds, and more dead trees. Spin, Founding Fathers, spin!
I’m redoing my measurements: from now one, I’m counting who’s spending the money. Which means a candidate may be on a mailer, but unless it’s stated he’s spending the bread, it won’t go in his tally.
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I never liked Joe Lieberman. Never. I didn’t like him the first time I heard of him in an article in Next-Gen magazine where he talked about controlling the content of video games. I read the interview and thought, “This fucker’s a Democrat?”
And when Al Gore chose Holy Joe as his running mate, I was pissed. That jackass who sounds like the Dad from “Alf” is going to be up on the bully pulpit? Gargh.
But you know what? Today’s news from Connecticut sweeps all that aside. Go, Ned, go!
So, some time back in 2004, I went to a fundraising party for Barbara Boxer. I bought two shirts, and the host was nice enough to give me a giant doggie bag of Hawaiian food. It was a pretty good evening, and I came away thinking that Boxer had her shit together.
And then I saw this.
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We just came back from seeing An Inconvenient Truth.
Never in my life have I wanted to a) give a wedgie to an executive from GM and b) get someone elected to the Presidency.
Just run, Al. For the love of God, run.
The best part about Election Day isn’t the beauty of democracy, the joy of voting, or any of that high-falutin’ crap. No, it just means that by 8pm, the robocalls, the flyers, and those goddamned commercials will stop. Peace will reign…until the next special election that’s bought by people who can afford custom-built legislation.