It would appear that thangs are janky all over the place. I see that a combination of persistent hot weather — and the news of Norway’s version of a Tea Party conservative, watering the Yggdrasil of Liberty with random people’s blood, hitting the 24/7 wall of newstainment across the corporate cable channel infogasm — has caused people to go a bit touchy around the ol’ Heimat over the weekend. As in: trigger finger, itchy. Blam. Blam blam.
Nutters with firearms went off in the usual places, namely Texas, and it was somewhat queasily familiar to see the city where I was raised — Stockton, California — make the weekend roster with a horrible birthday party shooting that left one dead, a 15 year old, and eight others wounded. I’m not going to comment about what went through the shooter’s head and what he — I’ll presume it was a he — was thinking, because whatever it was, it probably wouldn’t make a lot of sense to most of us. I will say that I can understand that kind of simmering resentment, but I’ll also add that I’m extremely grateful that I found some psychological tools to air my head out before I showed up at somebody’s birthday fete with the idea of turning it into a wake.
Stockton is a weird place. I get a little bothered when people in other places, like in the smugly satisfied State Worker Republic of Sacramento where I’ve lived since 1984, spout off about how the county seat of San Joaquin is a violent shit-hole full of crazy people and other mutants. But if you grew up in that part of the 209, or you’ve lived there or worked there for any amount of time, then to me you’re welcome to opine.
I’ll say this: I was surprised once I got out of Stockton that, in most places, people didn’t arbitrarily jump out of cars at stoplights and run over and beat the shit out of you, because that kind of thing seemed to happen in the Stockton of my youth with, well, I won’t say disturbing regularity, but I was the recipient of a sudden and unprovoked ass-kicking several times, and it left me in a state of raw fear for years. Hell, I’m in my 50s, and I still look nervously over my shoulder, and I glance up and down streets rapidly, reading every stranger and group of strangers for the threat of impending violence.
The shooting this weekend took place on Lincoln Road, east of Eldorado Street and south of Hammer Lane, about a mile from where I lived during junior high and high school. It was an okay neighborhood when they built it in the 1960s and ’70s, but like a lot of North Stockton, it’s decayed into a neighborhood over time where you might not feel comfortable living.
But that’s happened all over America. And you can point the finger of blame at that black president you don’t like, or those “socialist” Democrats, or whoever the ruling class clowns like Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck and the rest of the Murdoch circus are telling you to hate this week. But the grim reality is that what’s happening now is the result of the greedy portion of the top one percent of people in this country, according to wealth, who don’t want to help pay for maintaining the infrastructure of this country — including a vibrant private sector that provides living-wage jobs here that aren’t in Indian casinos — or the health and welfare of its citizens. Instead, they are using their considerable wealth and influence to wage war on the rest of us. As for the rest of us? Well, look on the bright side: We can buy guns and ammunition, at least until the unemployment checks stop coming. Then we’ll just steal them.
I do believe we are in for a weird ride the next few years. —Jackson Griffith
Jeebus reebus kuhneebus, are we living in some crazy times or what? I have to say that I’m glad I don’t own a television, because most likely I would be glomming onto the endless Fox News Channel broadcasts that tout these not-ready-for-prime-time pols 24/7. It took me long enough to break the Jersey Shore jones I’d picked up, to where Snooki and The Situation and the rest of those attention prostitution whore-ahs look too brutally stupid for even a moment’s consideration. Nevertheless, I’d be lapping up the Foxaganda Flavour-Aid like sweet nectar of the devil if I could watch this ongoing train wreck. Heck whiz, I might even believe some of these stoops.
I mean, Christine O’Donnell? Where are they trolling for these nitwits, anyway? PTA meetings in towns where research indicates that the citizens will engage in a punch-up at a trucker hat’s drop over the dumbest little trigger event, like juice boxes in school lunches? If I wanted to go all Alex Jones, I’d say this thing is being orchestrated in some Scottish Rite lodge gone black by a naked Rupert Murdoch, covered head to toe with the methamphetamine-enhanced menstrual blood of Ann Coulter, reciting passages from Albul Alhazred’s Necronomicon while remixes of Insane Clown Posse jams blast in the background and Sean Hannity gets buggered by a Hillerich & Bradsby strap-on wielded by Michelle Malkin with play-by-play delivered by Elmer Fudd.
This is the dumbest group of politicians ever foisted on the American public. Ever. I don’t think that you can go back in American history and find a stupider group of political candidates than the gaggle of geezers and Mordor of assclowns that the Republican Party and the teatard movement is flogging this year, bankrolled of course by Murdoch and those two bonehead brothers from Wichita named Koch who make Dixie cups, Northern bumwipes and Brawny paper towels and other Georgia-Pacific paper products, along with a bunch of other butthurt billionaires whose sphincters crinkle at the prospect of a progressive income tax.
I guess I grew up — he says, gumming out some Methuselah news for you whippersnappers — at a time when Republicans weren’t all wild-eyed and crazy, when guys like the late California Assembly Speaker Bob Monaghan would talk in even tones about how we should try to keep our government’s spending in line with tax revenues, and how we should make sure that business owners get their voices heard because they create and sustain jobs. I mean, my whole family was Republican, except maybe for me and my cousin Peggy, but none of them was brown-acid crazy like today’s GOP. Well, then we elected Reagan as governor at the end of 1966, around the time I was just getting into the Kinks, and then it was all downhill, because Old Dutch Boy Painthead was a front-stooge for the syndicate that’s now dragging us back to the Fourteenth Century. Crazy is as crazy does, I guess.
Once I took some scary vittamins, “Vitamin L,” as we used to call it, and thangs got a little too squinky for comfortable navigation, what with fruitless mulberry limbs reaching down snaking around my arms and trunk like boa constrictors and lifting me off the ground, thistles sprouting and growing miles into the sky in seconds and cars jumping around the street like too many Mexican jumping beans. I went home to be safe, and my room filled up with water, so I panicked and ran outside and hid under a bush, shaking. It was a Saturday night, and my dad’s calm voice lulled me back into the house. He had a huge chrome spike growing out of the top of his head like one of those World War I-era German army helmets, but he convinced me to watch some Japanese monster movie with him on Bob Wilkins’ show. Actually, it was that, followed by one of those creepy Hammer vampire films from England. I was totally fried, and the whole experience licked my decals off for weeks to follow.
Still, that was nowhere near as crazy as what the Republican Tea Party is serving up today. —Jackson Griffith
Glenn Beck is an asshole. There. I’ve said it, and I’m not going to mince any words. Because any hot-button talk radio opportunist of the Caucasian variety who stages a “Restoring Honor,” i.e. a “Taking Back America,” rally on the very steps of the Lincoln Memorial where Dr. Martin Luther King delivered his epochal “I Have a Dream” speech on August 28, 1963, and on the anniversary of Dr. King’s speech, and who compounds this middle-finger salute to a large swath of America, not just people of color but white people too, by inviting the quitter and fellow opportunist loudmouth Sarah Palin to also deliver a speech, is a hemorrhoidal, pus-infested butthole of the lowest order.
Restoring honor? Taking back America? From what? From the people who elected Barack Obama, a mixed-race man, to the presidency, after a dubiously installed nitwit from Connecticut, by way of Texas, and his gang of “awl-bidness” thieves and buffoons spent eight long years driving America into a ditch, bankrupting the national treasury, giving away the storehouse to what he once called the “have-mores” at some GOP black-tie jackoff fundraiser, then started not one but two wars, installed a host of idiots and incompetents at various levels of bureaucratic power, pissed all over the environment, shredded the Constitution and ignored the dire economic and environmental warnings that anyone, even a grade-school student, could see looming on the horizon?
And what are you “restoring,” Glenn? What are you taking back? Are you restoring that time when certain citizens had to use separate washrooms and drinking fountains, and ride in the backs of buses? Is that your idea of “honor”? And what are you taking back? The power to call the shots, because you and your bunch of rabid beatweeny neo-Stalinist fellow travelers are still so butthurt that John McCain fucked up by putting the incompetent Sarah Palin, the Paris Hilton of politics, on the ticket, and then they lost to a black man? McCain probably would have lost anyway, because your boy George W. Bush fucked everything up so badly that he made something possible that was previously unimaginable in this country of tired old wealthy white men running everything: He got a black man elected.
But you idiots are so ridiculously bent out of shape that you have to give us all a big “fuck you” by throwing a bunch of tantrums culminating in this stupid little prank. You can’t accept that there are people in this country who are hunkering down and trying to fix all the messes that Monkeyboy and his corrupt family and all their kleptocratic Republican pals did to this country. We’re picking up the garbage, trying to turn the ship around, attempting to figure out how to repair what has been damaged so horribly, and you have the motherfucking audacity to throw a big rally on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on the very day that Dr. King delivered his speech. And then, when you get called on it, you roll your eyes and come up with the worst dog ate my homework, the check’s in the mail and I won’t ejaculate in your mouth bunch of excuses I’ve ever heard. “Oh, we wanted to do it on September 12, but we couldn’t, and this was the only other date we had available, and, gosh, we had no idea that August 28 was the day that Dr. Martin Luther King gave that ‘I Have a Dream’ speech at the very place, the Lincoln Memorial, where we were planning to do our little Tea Party rally. Honest!”
Dude, fuck you. Fuck you with every dog, hog and bull dick in this great country of ours. Fuck you in the face with rooster jackoff, you weaselly piece of slime Glenn Beck. Seriously. You insult our intelligence with your mere presence. First, because your entire act is based on a dungheap of fact-free blatherings that anyone with an even remote idea of how Occam’s razor functions can see are the ravings of someone who took a big long drink from the poisonous fountain of conspiracy theories and kept right on drinking, even well after the brown acid kicked in. Why? Because there’s money in them thar snake-oil wells, podna. Phineas T. Barnum was right, and your cranked-up act proves that old carny more right, every goddamn day. People are stupid. Or at least the poor, desperate people who bite into your lodestone of buncombe are, who buy into your brand of dogwhistle racist claptrap.
Second, because you’re just another willing tool of Australian media terrorist Rupert Murdoch, a man who’s done more damage to this country than 100 teams of September 11 Saudi-Egyptian terrorists hijacking jet airliners and flying them into skyscrapers ever could. You signed on as another mouthpiece of the Fox propaganda machine, but you’d whored yourself out well before that. I used to have long conversations with my former father-in-law, who was a talking head on the same network that employed you before you went over to the dark side, and he would shake his head because he just didn’t have enough greed and he had too much personal integrity to sell out and shill for the Republican Party and the anti-democratic tools who bankroll it. The offers were certainly on the table. You, however, have tons of greed and zero integrity, so you’re a very good fit. Congratulations, pendejo.
And third, well, I’ve known a lot of Mormons over the years, good and intelligent people who were born into the LDS church. If they’re honest, they come correct on some of the thorny problems left behind by the church’s earliest prophets, Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, which have been proved wrong by subsequent investigation and scientific knowledge, e.g. the so-called “Book of Abraham,” which purportedly sourced good-ol’ redneck white supremacy to so-called divine origin, and they’re embarrassed by some of the foibles in their church’s early history. You, however, converted to Mormonism on your own free will. And not only that; then you embraced the ravings of the virulently right-wing racist Mormon writer W. Cleon Skousen, and you’ve used Skousen’s discredited “teachings” as a basis for some of your own discourses to the damned. You’ve foisted Skousen’s ideas back into the mainstream, not-so-cleverly repackaged as the latest wrinkle of patriotic fertilizer. Way to go.
So, Glenn, how many different ways can I say “fuck you” to you? And don’t get me started on Sarah Palin, someone who couldn’t handle her job as governor of a state with half the population of Sacramento County, California, so she quit that elected office midway through her first term in order to rake in the bucks while the getting’s good. By now, it should be quite apparent that Palin and her entire family, or at least the ones who have gone public, are a gaggle of low-born grifters. So what was she doing up there on the dais with you today?
Beck, you owe America an apology. I don’t expect you to give it. So, again, fuck you. —Jackson Griffith
p.s. Watch this, and you might figure out why some of us are so pissed off at you. And you might learn something.