Party With Warm And Happy Furry Puppies

I've been meaning to write about this Unity '08 piece of shit political party. Spokeshead Sam Waterston whines that the two parties have become so polarized that they fail to address the concerns of the American people. So they sniff and decide they will step off a hundred paces from everybody else, which would be the middle woodnit? and hammer an impudent little stake in the ground, hoist a flag from it and declare a new Merika.

Whatta putz!

Yo' you twitchy dickhead over there with the geeky looking nukylar wedgie posing as a flag, move about a thousand miles to the left and you will find the cold and the tired and the huddled masses that used to be the middle class, and you will find that all you stoopid sumbitches exist only in the fantasyland of corporate America, where campaign donations keep corporate welfare flowing, the food, drug, earth, wind and fire monopolies well protected from the vermin of the voters. Except for the voters who support their cause, which is to protect us from homosexuals and secular humanists that hate all your corporate profits because you love Jesus.

The last twenty five years stands as a stark testament to the failure of conservatism. The very mention of its name is a boot in the face of any family interested in improving their station in life. It exists as an anchor of prevention.

A thick and stifling mud of racism and male dominance and blotting out of anything new and creative and vibrant. Only the old roots stand fast. New shoots and perspectives and channels and views are blotted out and smitten, removed from the calendar and the womb. The day is shut. A meaningless viewless sameness is all that exists with conservatism.

All problems shall be solved with enough police on the ground. Seen and unseen, the lidless eye of conservatism shall not blink and shall not rest until every hill is shoved into every valley. Nothing shall stick up and impugn the senses with deviance.

And now, as the desolation of conservatism creeps into view of the American psyche the people are aghast. Entrails of mother earth are vomited out into huge slag heaps in multinational corporations rape for profit. The skies dim and the wind is thickened in a massive hoax against Republicans like Inhofe and the oil corporations that fuel his campaign.

Democrats, for a generation, were lost in the woods being led by feckless sluts like Shrum saying to be elected you must pay fealty to the creeping and shapeless mud of conservatism that defines nothing.

And now, we reach the point of absolution, where the people of America wake up from their long nightmare of strangulating leadership, furious at their plight, ripping control of the Democratic party from the DC insider pundits, and demanding their government behave like a mechanism to benefit not just the privileged, but everyone.

Food, drug, earth, wind and fire.

And here comes Sam, with his happy, warm, furry puppy party, with posies in his hair, skipping and whistling "Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful day...!"

Stuff it Sammy. Those of us on the left are not willing to gather at the river and sing kumbaya with a bunch of fucking warmongering neoconservatives that just spent the last thirty years labeling anything other than the dense mud of their sick, dark ideology traitorous America-haters.

Republicans have earned the right to lose in spectacular fashion. Do not deny them this right by attempting to split the 70% opposition vote.