Contributor: Chico Mahalo
- -
So now they’re all holding rallies, thinking they’re going to be the ones to set this country on fire again. But who’s kidding whom? What do they really want? What does anybody really want? Love? Sex? Respect? Money? Power? Egos stroked until their Ids come all over their superegos? It’s a simple question. Costs a hell of a lot more than $64,000 these days, but I think you’ll find the answer is reasonably priced. In fact it might even be on sale. For the right asking price. Just call up your friendly neighborhood lobbyist; they’re the ones hanging out in the lobby of the Ritz Carlton reading the Financial Times and having green tea and pastries.
And then the scene suddenly dissolves. But where are the network cameras? Out of focus again. But if you squint real hard you can see where the unemployment lines meet the coke lines and then you can watch them go to the after party with the thugs who can’t be identified in a lineup because they have diplomatic immunity.
Where is America? Where is Miss America? Being raped by Captain America, of course. And once again our judicial system has turned a blind eye to Lady Justice, who’s grown tired of being in the dark and has removed her blindfold and replaced it with shades of gray.
All those cancerous witches and warlocks pretending to race for the cure by filling out their pledge forms; but they don’t want to cure this disease. They want the disease to spread. They want to create a pandemic that is voter-resistant. What rhetoric! What spin! What a disenchanted forest we've wandered into again. Waiting for Supermen like Zuckerberg and Gates to be the saviors of our public schools because all those demagogic demigods on our school boards are more concerned with rewriting the history of the world by filling our children’s textbooks with ideological battles between Darwin and Christ.
“And, by the way, where is Christ in all this?” says the Atheist to the Evangelical.
“Living in you,” says the Evangelical.
“No, He’s not,” says the Atheist. “He’s with all those other ubermensches who always seem to be reaching toward thrilling ideas only to suddenly abandon them.”
And ’round and ’round the burning bush they go and where they stop, nobody knows; not even the shadow government knows what evil lurks inside the hearts and minds of the men and women of the Mad Tea Party who insist on seizing upon our differences and apprehensions rather than trying to grasp the reasons why the merry-go-round has collapsed mid-season.
- - -
Chico Mahalo is a subtly charming writer, alcohol maven, passionate communicator, and hipster-friendly troublemaker with a strong interest in researching tattoos in Minneapolis, MN. He spent 2001-2005 donating Easter candy in Ocean City, NJ. He currently lives with a woman who puts you in mind of an unstoppable storm, whose luxurious, wavy, black hair is worn in a style that reminds you of a bale of hay.
Read more »
- -
So now they’re all holding rallies, thinking they’re going to be the ones to set this country on fire again. But who’s kidding whom? What do they really want? What does anybody really want? Love? Sex? Respect? Money? Power? Egos stroked until their Ids come all over their superegos? It’s a simple question. Costs a hell of a lot more than $64,000 these days, but I think you’ll find the answer is reasonably priced. In fact it might even be on sale. For the right asking price. Just call up your friendly neighborhood lobbyist; they’re the ones hanging out in the lobby of the Ritz Carlton reading the Financial Times and having green tea and pastries.
And then the scene suddenly dissolves. But where are the network cameras? Out of focus again. But if you squint real hard you can see where the unemployment lines meet the coke lines and then you can watch them go to the after party with the thugs who can’t be identified in a lineup because they have diplomatic immunity.
Where is America? Where is Miss America? Being raped by Captain America, of course. And once again our judicial system has turned a blind eye to Lady Justice, who’s grown tired of being in the dark and has removed her blindfold and replaced it with shades of gray.
All those cancerous witches and warlocks pretending to race for the cure by filling out their pledge forms; but they don’t want to cure this disease. They want the disease to spread. They want to create a pandemic that is voter-resistant. What rhetoric! What spin! What a disenchanted forest we've wandered into again. Waiting for Supermen like Zuckerberg and Gates to be the saviors of our public schools because all those demagogic demigods on our school boards are more concerned with rewriting the history of the world by filling our children’s textbooks with ideological battles between Darwin and Christ.
“And, by the way, where is Christ in all this?” says the Atheist to the Evangelical.
“Living in you,” says the Evangelical.
“No, He’s not,” says the Atheist. “He’s with all those other ubermensches who always seem to be reaching toward thrilling ideas only to suddenly abandon them.”
And ’round and ’round the burning bush they go and where they stop, nobody knows; not even the shadow government knows what evil lurks inside the hearts and minds of the men and women of the Mad Tea Party who insist on seizing upon our differences and apprehensions rather than trying to grasp the reasons why the merry-go-round has collapsed mid-season.
- - -
Chico Mahalo is a subtly charming writer, alcohol maven, passionate communicator, and hipster-friendly troublemaker with a strong interest in researching tattoos in Minneapolis, MN. He spent 2001-2005 donating Easter candy in Ocean City, NJ. He currently lives with a woman who puts you in mind of an unstoppable storm, whose luxurious, wavy, black hair is worn in a style that reminds you of a bale of hay.
0 Comments
Author:
Chico Mahalo
