Politics


My friend Naomi posted this passionate plea on Facebook yesterday and I have to share…because she is SPOT ON with this shit! Please take a moment to read…and THINK Thx. 🙂
(Warning: there may be some curse words sprinkled here and there. She’s pretty upset/passionate…as she should be!)</em)

“OK, I’m going to do something I NEVER do….I’m going to rant about politics. I am starting to get very frightened by my friends’ beliefs regarding the upcoming elections. I KNOW Obama has not been perfect, has there ever been a perfect president???? But, when I start hearing the same crap I heard back when everyone was stupid enough to vote Green Party I start to really question some people’s common sense.

Voting because you “are following your hippy heart” is all swell and good, but it is not realistic and doesn’t work in the real world. The fact of the matter is, if we don’t band together and back Obama for another term (even if you don’t like him) you’re going to end up with Romney. Have you taken the time to really understand what a fucking douche bag, hypocrite, upper crust, women hating, ass wipe this man is??????????? Really????

Just because you choose to not vote, or vote for Micky Mouse, does not take away from the fact that this scum of the earth will be our next president if we don’t stick together on this. It’s another George Bush waiting to happen people. PLEASE cast your vote with intelligence!!!!!!!!!!! I’m fucking begging you.

This is an election where we have to think with our heads and not our hearts. Our freedoms and futures depend on it. I am FUCKING BEGGING YOUPlease do not skip voting…or vote for your dad or Jesus. We need our votes to count – count against the Christian Right Wing Republican War Monger Wealthy 1% Ass Hole Douche Bag Moron from getting into office. This is actually important!

This is no longer about whether you “like” Obama. It is about the greater good.”

THANK YOU, Naomi! ♥ ♥
(re-posted with permission)

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I just wrote a big stinky letter about SOPA/PIPA to all of my government representatives. Like, really really. Sent it off to each of my three peeps: Patty Murray, Maria Cantwell and Jim McDermott. I wholeheartedly recommend you all do exactly the same thing to your reps Feel free to even use my exact letter below. Well, you may want to leave out the first part about being six years old…but steal the rest as much as you want! 🙂 DO IT NOW…because they’re supposed to vote on this issue on January 24th. That’s next week!

Dear [Congressperson],

Let me start off by letting you know that I am a career voter. I’m serious…there’s no other way to put it. When I was six years old I came home crying from school because I found out that our exercise in voting wasn’t real. See, I was PISSED OFF that my vote for McGovern didn’t count. Oh boy, was I pissed. I then counted the days until I could legally vote and ferociously absorbed everything about every political person and issue I could find. I was obsessed.

The result of this obsession is that I have voted in every single election since turning 18 years old in 1984. I enlisted friends that otherwise wouldn’t have given a shit to register to vote and vote with me. I have voted for YOU every time you have run since I moved to Washington state in 1989. And I PROMISE that I WILL NOT VOTE FOR YOU if you vote for SOPA or PIPA. PERIOD. I’m. Not. Kidding.

Furthermore, I’m working hard to get all my friends…in real life and online…to do exactly the same. Think about it. DO NOT LET SOPA/PIPA pass! I’m dead serious.

SOPA and PIPA would put the burden on website owners to police user-contributed material and call for the unnecessary blocking of entire sites. Small sites won’t have sufficient resources to defend themselves. Big media companies may seek to cut off funding sources for their foreign competitors, even if copyright isn’t being infringed. Foreign sites will be blacklisted, which means they won’t show up in major search engines. SOPA and PIPA would build a framework for future restrictions and suppression.

You all in Congress say it’s about trying to protect the rights of copyright owners, but the “cure” that SOPA and PIPA represent is worse than the disease. It’s target shooting with a shotgun. SOPA and PIPA are not the answer: they would fatally damage the free and open Internet.

I cannot stress this enough. Please watch this video. LISTEN to what he’s saying.

And let me say it one more time to be absolutely clear: I WILL NOT EVER VOTE FOR YOU EVER AGAIN IF YOU VOTE FOR THE BULLSHIT THAT IS SOPA/PIPA.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you read the whole thing. I don’t know anymore if you guys care about us little guys or not anymore. And that makes me sad. It makes me beyond sad.

Sincerely,

Dyanne R. Kessler
Career Voter and Passionate American

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Last year this day I wrote a little post called Have A Goddamn Dream, Damn It. Go check it out. It’s not much…not all wordy and long…but I stand by it. Watch the video. LISTEN to the video. It still rings true. As does this one I’m sharing today of Dr. King’s final speech…delivered the day before his assassination.

I hear a fearless man that knows he probably should be afraid. I see a fantastic, charismatic leader ready to do the dirty work of speaking the TRUTH loud and clear, of igniting the FIRE deep in the soul of the People, and the dangerous work of standing up to “The Man” (ie The Government Machine). I see a brave captain knowing he may have to go down for the ship before giving up. He was no dummy…he knew he had enemies that wanted to shut him the fuck up.

Now, I’m not a Christian and I get pretty sick to death with all the bible-thumping, Jesus-invoking rabble-rousing so many politicians have resorted to in the past few years. But for some reason, Dr. King’s Christian God references in his last public speech…as with all his other great speeches…don’t even bother me one bit. This man was The Real Deal. He believed and he knew…and his message was right in line with the true meaning of Christianity. He meant it for helping…for FREEDOM…not for personal gain and restriction, as all these asshat rightwing conservatives have been after lately.

I hear Dr. King speaking to us HERE and NOW. His message is LOUD and CLEAR

“Somewhere I read the greatness of America is the right to protest for right!”

He was a Great Man standing up to THE Man. We need another one like him…and we need him right the fuck NOW.

Don’t let Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and everything he stood for be forgotten. Don’t let the FIRE go out! Not EVER …and especially NOT NOW.

I fail to understand why the American Political Machine grants so much gravity to what the hell they think in Iowa. I get that it’s a swing state. I get that it’s “America’s Heartland”, full of working class, prideful voters, with a history and tradition of doing it for themselves. I get that the Iowa Caucus is the first major kick-off game of the championship play-offs in the winner-takes-all extravaganza that ends in Washington.

Big whoop-dee-whoop.

This ain’t readin’ tea leaves! This shouldn’t be a game of Follow-the-Leader! What Joe & Wendy Schmoe decide they like and want to do in Iowa shouldn’t have such a damn awe-inspiring, head-nodding influence on the rest of the other state races, damnit! Unfortunately, thanks in great part to the media and perpetuated by all sides, that’s exactly what it does. What a freaking bunch of lemmings Americans are.

We’ve got a line-up of frothy asshat morons babbling conspiracy theories to scare, lying kiss-ass promises to coddle, and enough thinly cloaked hatred of you-name-it to incite that I just want to slap everybody real hard up-side their heads and send them to bed without dinner…all the way out to OUTER SPACE!

But, see, now I’m getting all foamy at the mouth…and I have not even yet broke out the soap from this box I’m standing on, much less shoved it onto anybody’s tongue, especially not mine. Time to take a deep breath…sigh…and chillllll.

Now isn’t this picture of the flowerbeds outside The SlaveBox a hell of a lot nicer than anything out of Iowa tonight?

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Ok, that’s it. Talk amongst yourselves. Better yet, shut up and have a glass of wine. 🙂

All content copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

I think the reason it’s been so silent here at Dy’s Mind’s Eye lately is because I’m just plain overloaded. Not by The Slave Box or by family…though those definitely have been taking their more-than-fair share out of me lately. No, I’m really talking about the media shit-storm.

We’ve got revolutions in Egypt and Bahrain. We’ve got funeral mourners being killed in Lybia and protests in Yemen and Morocco. We’ve got the working class under attack in Wisconsin and the GOP Fascist Asshats in Washington continuing their idiotic war against the poor, elderly, women and children. We’ve got Planned Parenthood and NPR and PBS fighting to stay alive. We’ve got the Seattle Police Department getting away with continued unwarranted brutal force…and even cold-blooded murder of a partially DEAF, drunk man with a CLOSED 3″ pocket knife…going unchecked, uncharged and unbelievable. I am just am all stopped up with all this crap and don’t know where to start. I’m flabbergasted. I’m so freaking angry at it all I’m just that cat in the corner that is spitting and hissing and can’t form words to express it all.

I WANT to write about each and every one of those horrific things and how it makes me angry and   sad and appalled. I WANT to rile you all up into action to DO something…ANYthing…about it. Any of it. All of it.  I just can’t get around my own mind. I’m stuck. I’m angry. I’m sick. I’m fucking in a state of blue screen shutdown.  I just don’t have the mental hard drive space to process, save and upload.

Overflowing GarbageYes, that sounds like a cop out…but I just can’t wrap my head around all of it. It’s too much. It all keeps falling out the sides and seams of my big bag of tricks, one topic at a time, in a torrent of cats and dogs falling from the sky sort of way. My A.D.D. keeps shifting from one topic to the other, trying to keep them all in order…hell, just inside the bag…until my orientation is off and my head is about to explode and then…Blue Screen of Death. Garbage Overload.

The logical little voice in the back of my head says, “Just pick one thing and focus on that. Write about one thing at a time.”

Yeah, I don’t know how to do that.

Not right now…not today. 

I’m going for a Mimosa, damn it. It’s Sunday and I’m worth it. And maybe it’ll quiet that nagging little voice in my head that keeps saying over and over, “Get on your soap box, it misses you…”

© 2011 D. Kessler

If you’ve read some of my posts in the Archive…specifically during the 2008 Presidential Campaign…you’ve probably gotten the idea that I really can’t stand a Certain Woman Who Shall Not Be Named. There’s not much worse in my book than being a total idiot and thinking you’re a genius, plus you just can’t keep your mouth shut…even when every time you open it you do more damage to yourself and those you supposedly represent than if you JUST…SHUT…THE FUCK…UP.

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Maybe I should be happy she can’t keep her oral flaps zipped. The more she spews lately, the worse she sounds, the deeper she shoves her foot down her esophagus. Hell, she should be digesting her left knee right down in her upper intestine right about now. At this rate she’ll be a candidate for a Hoveround and government assistance before the next presidential campaign. Oh no! Let’s watch the double standard kick in, shall we?  She doesn’t want a government health program for the masses, but what do you bet she’ll take government funds for medial assistance if she ever needs it!

I know I’m not spouting anything new here. I’m just letting off some steam so I don’t explode the week of February 28-March4. That’s the week we’re not only not going to write about The Dumb Barbie-Bitch from Alaska. We’re going to do that thing that Arrogant Sociopaths absolutely hate.

WE’RE GOING TO COMPLETELY IGNORE HER!

Yep. Flip that channel, turn the page, click off the website…completely fucking pretend she doesn’t exist!  Can you sing “blahdadaladalaladadahlalaaaaaah” with me while covering your ears and squishing your eyes up tight? You know…just like when we were kids?

Facebook has a info page here.

Better yet, LeftAction has a petition you can sign here.

Go do it, Join us!

Because that Dumb Bitch just pisses the hell outta me to no end. I can’t even begin to say the vile things I think about someone that bereft of soul.

The only YouTube video I can handle watching of her is this one…cuz she actually doesn’t say a damn thing.

© 2011 D. Kessler

“True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it is not haphazard and superficial. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth.”      ~ Martin Luther King, Jr, on 4 April, 1967

“In a country well governed, poverty is something to be ashamed of.” ~ Confucius

We’re a bit under the weather here at Casa de D today, so I really don’t have the mental energy to really serve you all right with a well thought-out, creatively worded article on just about anything, sorry. However, I do want to share an article with you that a friend turned me on to earlier today.

It’s been sixteen years since the article below was written and it still rings true, sadly. We still pour money into unnecessary and immoral wars, we still refuse to legislate adequate funds to programs to feed, clothe and provide health care to the poor of this country. We sweep them under the rug while spending billions on killing machines and killing strategies…creating more poor in those countries we destroy in the name of “Freedom“.

So, although we may have a national holiday today recognizing Dr Martin Luther King Jr., the media and government still refuse to recognize what the hell the man actually stood for, worked for…and died for. We as a people refuse to take any responsibility for digging past the propaganda to find the truth. We as a people hide behind rhetoric and lies…lies told to us and lies we tell ourselves…lies perpetuated by so-called “Christians” and the Tea Party and anyone else that spews hate by way of rationalizing the denial of aid to those in this country in need.

© 2011 D. Kessler

The Martin Luther King You Don’t See on TV
Media Beat (1/4/1995)
By Jeff Cohen and Norman Solomon

It’s become a TV ritual: Every year in mid-January, around the time of Martin Luther King’s birthday, we get perfunctory network news reports about “the slain civil rights leader.”
The remarkable thing about this annual review of King’s life is that several years — his last years — are totally missing, as if flushed down a memory hole.

What TV viewers see is a closed loop of familiar file footage: King battling desegregation in Birmingham (1963); reciting his dream of racial harmony at the rally in Washington (1963); marching for voting rights in Selma, Alabama (1965); and finally, lying dead on the motel balcony in Memphis (1968).

An alert viewer might notice that the chronology jumps from 1965 to 1968. Yet King didn’t take a sabbatical near the end of his life. In fact, he was speaking and organizing as diligently as ever.

Almost all of those speeches were filmed or taped. But they’re not shown today on TV.
Why?

(…Read the full article here.)

martinLutherKingGandhi3Today is January 15, 2011. Love stating the obvious. Yep. That’s the date.

A lot of us don’t have to go to work on Monday, but few of us really appreciate why. Here’s why:

Today, 82 years ago, a little baby was born in Atlanta, Georgia. His mother Alberta named him after his father, Michael, a Baptist Minister, but when the family traveled to Europe in 1934, the Reverend decided to change both his name, and his son’s, to Martin after the German Protestant Reformer, Martin Luther.

That little boy grew up, along the way skipping both the ninth and twelfth grade and graduating high school at the age of 15 years old, then going on to college and earning is PhD in Philosophy at the amazing age of 25. He became a charismatic speaker and a leader of men and women on the road to freedom.

Then on the 28th of August in 1963, more than 2,000 buses, 21 special trains, 10 chartered airliners, and uncounted cars converged on Washington. Something like 200,000-300,000 people were part of The Great March on Washington and that little boy that grew up to be Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., made his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. People listened. They keep on listening. That’s what we hope, anyway.

By 1968, however, Dr. King had stirred the pot to the point where he wasn’t as popular as he once had been. He had continued to rally against the Vietnam war and to uplift and support the poor of this nation. He had made a great many enemies. He was a threat…to someone…to someone that had something done about it. Some ass-hole shot him dead.

He was only 39 years old…younger than I am now.

Today, on the birthday of that amazing man…his ACTUAL birthday, not the bank holiday…I give you his words. Take the time to read them. Take the time to realize we still have “Negroes” in this country that are not free…”Negroes” that are still crippled by the chains of discrimination.

In this time we live in, when two people that love each other cannot get married merely because of their gender, when a loving couple with a loving home can’t adopt children that need homes because they’re both the same sex and sleep together in the “biblical sense”, when men and women are beat and killed everyday because they are “gay”, and when young people…or ANYONE, for that matter…are harassed to the point where they see no other course than to take their own life…there is a mighty need to have a Dream. A Dream to End the Hate, To Find Equality and FreedomFOR ALL.

© 2011 D. Kessler

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by a sign stating: “For Whites Only.” We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”¹

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest — quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification” — one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”²

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day — this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim’s pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of
Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

(Delivered by Martin Luther King, Jr., on 28 August 1963, at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.)

[Warning/Disclaimer:  I’m not going to be nice here. If you don’t want to read the F-word, go somewhere else today. Heck, this blog usually has a few curse words in it…just so you know]

The Westboro  Baptist Church promising to picket a funeral of a nine-year-old girl is just about as despicable as I can imagine. I mean, I get it that they think that America has gone to hell in a hand-basket. I get that they are full of hate for anyone that doesn’t adhere to their belief system. They claim God hates the LGBT community, Catholics, Divorcees, Atheists, Agnostics, People that have sex outside marriage, People that have done drugs, People that have contracted AIDS in any way whatsoever…I could go on and on.

Oh yeah, let’s not forget: God…HATES…America.

I get that they are a bunch of fucking ass-hole whack-a-dos.

What I don’t get is…Oh, let’s be honest….ABSOLUTELY FUCKING EVERYTHING ABOUT THESE EVIL FUCKS.

I mean, really…take a look at this quote from their official statement to CNN today about their planned picket of Christina Green’s funeral:

“We picket the funerals to make these vital points to the living! If you heed, it is life and health and peace and safety…God sent the shooter! Praise God for ALL his works, and BE YE THANKFUL!.” ~ Shirley Phelps-Roper

Wait a minute.

*blink-blink*

GOD…Jehovah GOD…sent the SHOOTER?! To kill 6 people, one of which was an innocent nine-year-old baseball-loving girl?? Not to mention injuring at least 12 more?? WTF?!

I’m sorry. I just can’t even…I’m just…holy crap…I’ve got nothing to counter that. I’m just too overwhelmingly fucking flabbergasted to even think after that, let alone write.

I really wanted to write a well thought out, vehement attack on all that is evil and Westboro Baptist. I thought I could do it. Light that liberal pagan fire under me and watch me GO! Wheee!

But…my stomach just can’t take it. I can’t form the words.

A pool of vomit really is the best I can do. I just wish I could project my stream of velocitific bile toward them THEM…on them…and may it burn through their vile eyes and into their brain. 

It might do them some good.

It sure has hell can’t make them much worse.

© 2011 D. Kessler

I don’t watch talk-news television.

Not any of it. Unless maybe it’s an election year…but even then, I really just prefer to steer clear of Them All.

Those channels dedicated solely to talk programs, yelling programs, left/right propaganda programs, Idiots-On-Parade programs, I-Hate Programs, We’re-Better’n-You-and-Why programs, Gimmee-M’Gun programs, Lock-up-the-Guns Programs, He-Said-She-Said programs, I-Say-This-and-You-Better-Listen programs…

I think you get the idea.

That crap isn’t journalism, it’s rah-rah-video political version of The National Enquirer. Heck, sometimes it’s more like the old Weekly World News the way it throws out these half-assed, blown-so-big-it’s-about-to-pop atrocities of so-called “news”.

Because of my lack of Shout TV, I have just now…albeit a bit tardy, a bit late, a bit so-two-days-ago…come across this nine minute and three second speech that brought tears to my eyes. Serious tears. The kind where a few escaped onto my cheek before I could hastily brush them away. I choked up and had to watch it again immediately from the beginning. It’s exactly how I feel about the Monstrous Madness of the Masses and I just cant put it any better.

So, watch it. Even if you already have. Even if you don’t normally like Olbermann. Digest it. Learn it. This is the real Word. Fuck all the other words.

There is something wonderful said here.

© 2011 D. Kessler

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