2003-03-04 - 6:37 p.m.
And now, today's entry in the Lame Antiwar Publicity Stunt Sweepstakes.
Wasn't there a SNL sketch along the same lines once? A long time ago? Like, back in the Dan Ackroyd/Jane Curtin era? When Francisco Franco was still dead?
Stuff like this is why I have a tough time taking the antiwar crowd seriously despite my personal opposition to invading Iraq. You'd think that Margaret Thatcher, Condi Rice, Lorena Bobbit and Ann Coulter would have finished off this tired old saw about how Wimmin are the Nurturers and Peacemakers once and for all. Or is this campaign also calling for Coulter's husband to keep Mr. Purple tucked away until she sees the error of her ways, too? (Does Ann Coulter even have a husband? I'm picturing a dozen kidnapped teenage runaways chained up in her basement and kept barely alive on a diet of bread, water and Viagra instead.)
If not, then, well, the ninth-wave feminist in me has a problem with it, too. Aren't women in the 21st century supposed to have other ways of wielding power besides simply hopping onto a man and steering him around by the joystick? You know, like voting? Or having their own careers and lives? Or even--gasp--running for and holding elective office? I've said it before and I'll say it again: If more of the women (and men) wringing their hands now over the right-wing nuthatches running this country had actually voted in 2000 and 2002--or had voted for people who actually had a chance at winning rather than fringe "there's no difference between the Democrats and Republicans" candidates--they might be a lot less fearful today. Back in 2000 I used to hear a lot of folks rationalizing their votes for such candidates with the line, "Things have got to get worse before they get better, anyway." Well, guess what--things are worse. Happy now?
Just for that, I'm withholding sex from you.
***
OK, so not everything I read about the world situation depresses me. For example, there's this guy.
Think he's interested in the Presidency?
***
I think I've finally found my personal pack-it-in-and-leave point. Meaning, the point at which I say at last, "All right, then, fuck it. This country no longer bears even the slightest resemblance to the one I learned about in civics class--time to get the hell out. So long, farewell, auf fucking wiedersehen, adieu."
You can find it right here. I already knew that PATRIOT Act II--Electric Boogaloo was a nasty piece of work, but ... the ACLU? A terrorist organization?
The fucking ACLU?
After reading this, of course, I immediately went to the ACLU's web site and gave them some more money. (I've been a card-carrying member for a while now already.) I figure, if supporting them eventually means I can be stripped of my U.S. citizenship, that same citizenship will be worth approximately dick to me by then, anyway. And I suspect either Canada and/or Germany will be granting ACLU members political asylum. So hang on to those membership cards, people.
***
|
 |