Saturday, January 23, 2010

WHAT THE F***??!!

Gentlemen, start your engines...



The board rooms of America are partyin' hearty this weekend. As well they should be - our elections are now LEGALLY for sale to the highest bidder.

"Yas, yas, yas; step right up Korporate Amerika; we're open for bidness. We'll take yer money and letchas have yer way with us - why who'da thunk you piggies had figgered out howta buy a handful of justices. Huh? What's that ya say - ya need an army? Sure, no prob; bidders can line up on the right. Hell no, ya don't need no number; this ain't no bakery - just flash your cash..."





While perhaps a moot point now (sadly), but one must still wonder by what reasoning they came up with such a thoroughly hosed conclusion. I've read it and still don't get the logic. So much for our constitution's highly touted "checks and balances" - out the window in a flash.



As far as I know, there's no legal means to impeach Supreme Court justices. From a practical standpoint, they answer to no one (well, based on this week's stunt, they clearly do, but it sure the Hell ain't you and it ain't me and, it ain't even the President or Congress).

My initial reaction was simply "What the fuck???!!!". Now however, after trying to wrap my brain around this travesty, that's been upgraded to "how the fuck??" and "Why the fuck???"

No doubt, the answer to both queries are closely integrated even as (the former) "we, the people" remain flummoxed and clueless. I kept thinking I was missing some subtle salient point of this decision; some esoteric and incognito nugget of wisdom buried within it. At this point, I think not. Plain and simple it is just as it appears - we've been roundly and soundly fucked.

In my admittedly naive view, the Constitution was established to define and protect the rights of "the people". Now unless, I'm mistaken, corporations are not people. They don't change diapers, they don't shop for groceries; they don't hafta get up in the middle of the night to pee. And, as I (until today), understood it, they DON'T get the right to vote or any of the other "rights" of the people. This decision gives the people that own the shares of these entities rights that the rest of us do not have.

Can the unholy 5 be tried for treason? Is that an option? Looks doubtful. And, if they could, who would be qualified to bring them up on charges? Who bought 'em? How much did they hafta pay? Did they get a discount for buyin' five at a crack?

I guess the silver lining in this debacle is that we can now do away with the legislature; they've just become superfluous. Come to think of it, we also no longer need the Judicial system. We should no longer have to pay any of their their salaries, expenses and lifetime free pension and insurance bennies; that should help out the deficit, eh?

Instead, now, all we need is an auctioneer to assure the highest price for a new law to be passed, a couple clerks to rubberstamp the paperwork and a cashier to take the money. And there'll no longer be a need to waste vast sums on conducting campaigns, elections and such; as of today, that's all become just window dressing.

Of course, all this also means we no longer can claim (however pathetically as of late) that we have a Democratic society. I suppose someone will eventually need to coin a new term for whatever this now is. Meanwhile, think of all the money we'll save, the pesky bother of having to vote and, all the other annoying challenges of facilitating governance by the mere "people". We could change the national anthem to Curtis Mayfield's "If there's a Hell below, we all gonna go" because, in practice AND in fact, we all just went.

Don't you think? Or don't you?

Sunday, January 10, 2010

MR. MUUMFFALLA STRIKES AGAIN

THIS JUST IN (THOU DOG KNOWS WHY...):



Ja, boolaboola.
Ep -so, boyomonkees, atsa some godamma kin'a pictch' you senname!

Remin' me o'when I eated some bad acid and foun' little sembaglembas runnin' all over Amber Manor with sharpened spooons and a wicked Gleem in they eyeteeths, ai-ai-ai. Remember? n' then they went an' painted little Jeezis' with really big ears all over the kitchen baseboards and then throwed crustyboogers (mine, not theirs) at 'em and would sing that creeepy little 'miko-miko-jojo-piko' song real loud whenever one of 'em managed to hit the jesus target - boy, I tellayou, that was a night to forget. Yet today, I still think'a they was related to Angelo.

Shemp-Fufu came over last night and tried to give me some o'his new plankton sausages butt I tol' him I only have eyes for a little wheel and saw that as no cause for sausitches. I think he was reallyreally PO'd but, he mighta been drinking - hard to tell these days with him. Anyway, he aska me "Whatzzamatta you, Blondee- are you ignorant or just apathetic??". well I tol' him! I said: "I don't know and I don't care."


Boyjesus, that REALLY setted him off on this long screedscreech that sounded to me an awful lot like that goofyshit Plato used to scrivvel about. No wonder Aristoddle peed on Plado's grave while Playdough's widow sang sarcastacanasta dirges in the outhouse the whole resta the afternoon and never got her tea and shake-n-bake-saganaki break whitchcourse made her even grouchier.


Butt I digress. Which is prolly okay cuz otherwise you'd hafta listenin' to me wheezin' on about what I foun' yes'day in Borleena's room while I was hosin' out the jubberytub receptacle. I bedder save that story though for some other time cuz, well, you just never know, it could be your lunchtime or somethin'.


Okay so yeah. I gotzabetterhafta hit the deck an' finish sprucin' up the jingleblaster machine before Mr. Quallornagazo comes home an' catches me loafin' again. I only get t'use the gaddam compooter when he's at the club. I sure hope he gets that promotion he wants so they'll send him away to Lembo-lembo. He'll really kindalike it there and, at that point then, I'll only hafta put up with Suzilou and her tribe o'rabidrampant wildebeests - And Sanduccia usually manages to keep them all preddywell occupie-eyed with him practicin' his occupuncture on 'em allafuggintime.

I know it's far from a perfect solution but in times like this, is did, is do.


Say hi to Tweelobarbra and Scruffy for me. Tell 'em I miss 'em both butt not really all that much; they'll like that.


Sander McDanderphilander

(purported heir to the prone)