A manifesto (Or, Fed to the gills, that's me.)

(PLEASE read all the way through to the end and let pissed off feelings cool before you react to this if such is your reaction. This is just me scratching a major league itch of the soul and should not be construed as anything but, nor should it be construed as an attack on any one person. In short, I'm venting.)

An otherwise dear friend of mine said the other night he was tired of being demonized because he believed in fiscal responsibility and national security.

You want to know what I'M tired of being demonized for?

I'm sick and fucking tired of being demonized because I care about people first, and orally servicing big business ranks as a priority somewhere below reorganizng my non-existent Wayne Newton collection and collecting snail droppings.

I'm sick and fucking tired of being demonized because I too believe in national security, I just don't believe that means kicking the shit out of small brown countries so the Resident of the White House can save face for not catching Bin Laden. For God's sake, people, the man made (and continues to make)us look like Tom chasing Jerry. So to show them turrists we mean bidness, we went and staged an invasion that would have made the Wehrmacht envious for it's speed on a country that couldn't put up a decent fight against a Girl Scout troop.

I am sick and fucking tired of an administration so filled to the brim with arrogance and drunk with power that it ashcans a couple's life and an entire branch of an intelligence network solely to punish a man for speaking the truth about what he saw (or, rather, didn't see) just to slap him around and show him his place.

Now.. just to show I'm not entirely one-sided in this, let me assail a group that is currently displaying the subtle social dynamic of a nursey school recess. To wit, the current field of Democratic presidential hopefuls. In brief, the strategy seems to be - attack, attack, attack. Of course, this is followed swiftly by mudsling, mudsling, mudsling. Frankly, both major parties are guilty as proverbial sin of this and I, for one, am sick and fucking tired of it.

People, wake up. For the love of all that's holy, wake up. I love America. Too many good people have given too much on far too cosmic a scale to recount here. I reiterate: I love America. But what the "United" States are devolving into is something very frightening. People, we just flat cannot go around the world beating hell out of anybody that looks like they might someday be a threat possibly kind of maybe. We can't afford it, and dammit to hell we need to recapture some of that wonderful outpouring of goodwill and charity that existed after a certain event of a couple years back.

HAVING SAID ALL OF THAT.. I urge you - even if and maybe ESPECIALLY if what I've said pisses you off - to do something about this country we live in. In short, that means getting off your asses and voting. Vote for whothehellever or whatthehellever you believe in, come election day. If you believe in everything I've railed against, then speak out with your vote! If you believe as I do, then dangle that there chad!

But DO NOT sit there like a lump and not take part in something so very basic, so very vital, so very necessary.

I, for one, will NOT sit on my well-cushioned ass while (in my mind, at least) one of the most crucial and influential times in my country's history is unfolding around me. The things I've mentioned above DO piss me off no end, so I will use the single most powerful weapon an American citizen possesses - a vote.

Thanks for listening, and I love you all. Even you !_)@**& conservatives. ;)

Well, now. THAT certainly didn't take long.

To wit, a Recall filk set to the tune of The Rainbow Connection (named, of course, The Recall Election). Note: the following is by Qe'van The Unclothed, Bard Of Nor, whose URLs will follow this instantly deathless piece of music:

The Recall Election
-------------------

Why were they so often leading the late news?
What made them think we care?
Porn stars and hustlers, and dozens of buskers
And Coleman and Gallagher.
Some one-hundred-thirty-odd names on the ballot
All of them wrong, wait and see.
Thank God that it's over, the Recall Election
Is finally off my TV.

You thought the electorate in the state of confusion
Would vote down the movie star?
Body bronzed and beautiful, He talks with an accent:
Perfect choice for way out thar.

Is that so amazing? They're always star gazing
Worshipping publicity
All of them under its spell
Though we know it really is horse-shit.

Now finally talking-heads have turned off their voices
I thought I was going insane
The sweet sound of silence about California
At least 'till they recall again.

I heard it too many times to ignore it
The recall in Two-Thousand-Three
Thank God that it's over, the Recall Election
Is finally off my TV.

http://qevan.home.comcast.net/poetry/
http://www.texasfilk.org