War of the Roses

Whatever you think about gay marriage, it is essentially great for comedians. Disgusting Larry Craig, nauseating Jim McGreevey, loathsome Rosie O’Donnell, just plain repulsive Ellen DeGenerate. Let ‘em all marry each other with Oscar de la Hoya as the freakin bridesmaid! What do I care?

Unfortunately, it’s also a bullshit issue made to ordure for the Republicans, and it cannot have raised its pointy little head at a more opportune time for them than the present, when they are stinking worse than a barrel of rancid fish head offal left out too long behind the outhouse of a leper colony.

If Obama gets the Democratic nomination, gay marriage is going to be a major sinkhole for him. He can’t afford to hedge on it for fear of losing a major element of his constituency.

The Republicans have already started their strategy of burying Obama under a manure pile of nonsense, with the analogy calling him an appeaser (is that like an appetizer?) like Neville Chamberlain.  99% of the population think Neville Chamberlain is the new Yankees reliever, but they sure understand the concept of caving in to a bunch of despotic terrorist pricks.

Just making the accusation has accomplished the Republican goal of internalizing it in the public’s minds. You don’t have to substantiate it, just get it out there. That’s how Reagan got in, that’s how both Bushes got in, that’s what sunk Kerry, and that’s the strategy they’re counting on to sink Obama.

Today it was appeasement, tomorrow gay marriage, then they got abortion, gun control, Louis Farrakhan, you name it. They can accuse Obama of being a secret demon worshipper at Farrakhan’s Nation of Islam Mosque on the South Side of Chicago and he can issue an outraged denial, but it will already have been internalized by all the freakin Wal-Mart shoppers, and the damage will have been done.

Naturally, the appeasement remark threw the liberal commentators into a frenzy, but that was already after the fact. Nobody cares about appeals to reason. In fact, all the denials and outraged sanctimony in the world just give the accusation more currency.

Republicans are like a wounded beast, and that is when they are most dangerous. Their campaign against Obama will be a one-loaded-innuendo-a-day affair until it finally piles up to a critical mass, some true, some imagined, that will destroy his credibility even among voters who are kindly disposed toward him (which I’m not).

The Republicans’ great fear is that Clinton will still manage to win the nomination, in which case they know they are sunk. She and her husband have always beat them at any game they have chosen to play, usually by turning their own piggish behavior against them.

I am not as smart as the Clintons, so I only have my own limited intellectual resources to draw on, and believe me, they are diminishing by the day. What they are telling me is that the Democrats need to wise up and fight Republican insults and innuendo by smearing them worse. Start by announcing that the high gas prices and the Iran war are a Republican conspiracy to get rich off the backs of the people. That sounds pretty credible. Attack John McCain on the grounds of senility and losing his marbles. Obama gingerly touched upon that approach, but was too nervous to go for a full frontal assault and hammer away at McCain in a substantial way, which he so richly deserves.

I definitely would go after McCain on the basis of his age, and not tenderly. Show up at his rallies with canes and walking sticks and wheeled walkers. Put him on the defensive, making him prove he’s really fit. Even if he is, so what? Call him grandpa, the ol’geezer. That’s how you play politics!

Republicans are easy bait. If freakin Vito Fosella, Staten Island’s piece of Great Kills garbage, decides to run for congress again, show up at his campaign speeches waving a pepperoni salami and scream for him to keep it in his pants! That’s how you handle those pricks!

Barack Obama’s home district, the Hyde Park section of Chicago has the distinction of being the birthplace of this writer, and also the area where my uncle, Saul Bellow, lived and wrote his greatest books. Bellow was living in Paris when he wrote the story of my birth to use as the denouement for “The Adventure of Augie March”, so I can also claim to have been born in Paris, at least in the literary sense. How many nasty little no-talent mediocre strivers can make that assertion? The vicious little dorks who compose New York’s literary establishment, if you care to grace those grasping porkers, stuffing themselves at the trough, with such an elegant appelation, can never forgive me for having such a notable history. Fuck ‘em!

Hyde Park is also distinguished as being the location of the intersection of 47th Street and South Parkway, a corner that was immortalized by blues singer Lou Rawls in his classic hit “World of Trouble”. The hysterical lead-up to the song is the tale of a young black man, all pimped out with freshly processed hair, standing in front of the Walgreens. He is awestruck in admiration of his automobile, which is parked at the curb, a Cadillac, naturally, or as Rawls sings it, “white on white in white”.

The guy’s reverie is broken by the advancing fury of his high-stepping girlfriend, in a night dress and slippers, hair still in curlers, and bearing a huge butcher knife. It seems that word has eventually gotten back to her that he has done her wrong, and she has made a determination to do a little elective surgery on him (surgery of her election). Hence the name of the song.

Now in the prevalent political environment, I think I can be excused for casting Barack Obama as the young man in this picture, with Hillary as his hatchet wielding pursuer. It’s not that far from reality. Hell hath no fury like a brass battle axe who feels she is being juked out of the presidential nomination that she and her future ex-husband have been plotting for years to seize, particularly when the Republican Party is collapsing at lightning speed like the putrid maggot-ridden, termite infested structure that it so manifestly deserves to be.

One summer beach day I was sitting at a bar on the Jersey shore waiting for my girlfriend, Magpie, to finish raising the sea level in the ladies’ room. On the barstool next to me was a real Hillary Clinton voter, built like a fireplug with a mouth to match. This old broad was a real comedian. After she had gotten tired of exchanging wisecracks with a couple of old gents seated to the other side of her, she turned to me and addressed me:

“Y’know, men are a pain in the ass!”

Not able to resist my inner OJ, I shot back:

“Maybe you’re doing it wrong.”

Cymbals clash! End of conversation. I don’t exactly have the common touch when relating to Wal-Mart shoppers. But I can talk. Oh yeah!I have never had a problem with an audience in a comedy club. My problem has always been with management.

An old boss of mine who really loved me once complimented me by asking me why I had never gone into politics. His meaning was clear – you could make a lot more money stealing than you’ll ever make working for me.

First of all, I was doing fine working for him. I was living very well styling ladies’ accessories, and it kept my hands busy.

Secondly, I don’t car about people that much, which is to say, not at all. In politics, even when you’re betraying the public trust, which surely would have been my role in the process, there is an element of priesthood, of the laying on of hands.

“Congressman, my neighbor plays his radio too loud.”

“Certainly, madam. I will send somebody over to ask him to turn it down.”

“You’re such a good boy! I’m going to tell all my friends to vote for you.”

Put in an equivalent position, I likely would have advised the old doll to tell her neighbor to worry his iPod up his butt – sideways.”

It’s unfathomable to me why somebody would go into politics without wanting to steal. That’s the only sane rationale. That’s how Republicans see it as well (that boss of mine was a Republican). That’s why they spent millions going through the Clintons’ finances. They figured that no matter how smart he was, they could catch him at stealing at something, though they never did. The Clintons had gone into politics for the most altruistic of reasons. Also, the way they saw it, it beats working at a job for a boss.


Nevertheless, whatever illusions they ever had have been beat out of them by the same forces they had gone in to conquer and what we are left with is street hustler Obama, with his skinny pimping suit, being chased down South Parkway by high-steppin’ fat mama Hillary packing a pistol in one hand and a meat axe in the other as Bubba wails “Abide By Me” on his saxophone under the harvest moon.

Hillary Clinton Panders To Anti-(space)Alien Extremists!
click here:
http://www.200motels.net/hil.html

GIULIANI'S PANTIES! click here:
http://www.200motels.net/RUDY.html

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Posted on 5/16/2008 ( Permanent Link )
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