I Hate Michelle Duggar

This is not a vagina.  This is a clown car. 

In light of the fact that Michelle Duggar had a miscarriage recently, I started to scrap this bark.  I figured it would be in poor taste to post my rant under the circumstances.  Then, much to my disgust, Michelle and Jim Bob are taking to the airwaves and cyberworld just to get as much attention (and money) as they can out of this tragedy.  When I saw that, I decided fuck it.  If they can't show the tragedy the respect it deserves, I won't either.  

I hate Michelle Duggar.  I truly hate her.  Guess what?  I hate Jim Bob, too; and I'm not particularly fond of the clowns that climbed out of Michelle's clown car vajayjay.  The whole damn bunch is crazier than an infestation of shit house rats.  Jim Bob and Michelle invoke violent impulses in me.  I'd like to hit them in the face with the sole of my dirtiest shoe - repeatedly.  

Many people are quick to come to the ubergina's defense and proclaim that it's a matter of personal choice.  Yes, it is; but for some reason the airhead sees fit to hold a press conference every time another clown is going to climb out of that car.  When she does that, it is no longer a personal matter.  Don't hold a press conference and then call it a personal matter.  Then there's goofy assed Jim Bob standin' there, cheesin'.  He just stands there looking like a dumbass with that shit eatin' grin on his face.  The two of them are the pure embodiment of almost everything that irks me.

Jim Bob's a politician, and the worst kind.  He's the variety that considers the First Amendment to be there to protect HIS religious freedom, keeping in mind that the practice of his religion includes forcing his beliefs upon the rest of us.  I looked to see if I could find anything about his record in the Arkansas legislature, but all I was able to find was a bunch of bullshit about his breeding capabilities.  I'm sure if I'd looked harder or if I'd have taken a lunch time trip to the Secretary of State's office and pilfered archives, I'd have found citations of just what a shitty politician Jim Bob was.  I'm not that industrious, though.  

I feel bad that Michelle had a miscarriage.  Unfortunately, miscarriage - or spontaneous abortion as it is known medically - is nature's way of correcting something that went wrong.  Mother Nature is a cruel mistress indeed, but when a miscarriage occurs, as a general rule it would be more cruel that the fetus would have survived.  Of course, it's easy for me to sit here and say things like that considering that I've never suffered a miscarriage.  I've been pregnant twice.  I have two children to show for it.  I do know how I felt from the moment of knowing I was pregnant.  Protecting my child became a single-minded obsession.  I know women who have miscarried, and I know women who had to abort in the second and third trimesters lest both they and the baby die.  I have witnessed their heartbreak.  I'm sure it was no easier for the brood mare, or at least I felt that way at first.  Now, I'm not so sure.  I don't criticize them for having a funeral for the baby.  I probably would do the same in their shoes.  I don't criticize them for taking pictures of the baby.  Again, I would probably do the same in their shoes.  I don't even criticize them for giving some of the pictures to close family and friends, as these people might also share in their grief.  My criticism is that Michelle is pimping her dead baby to get herself all of the attention she can possible get.  She's done the interviews, she's released pictures of the baby's hand on her finger, and chances are an episode of their TV show will revolve around this.  TMZ has the pictures of the baby.  I wonder how much the Duggar asswipes were paid for them.  I'm sure Michelle would release them for free just to get the attention and publicity.  

Of course, I figured it was a matter of time before she got pregnant again, considering J child #1 and his wife just had baby #2.  Hell's bells, she couldn't even let J child #1 and his wife enjoy their first child without making herself a part of it all.  See below.  

Really, Michelle?  You couldn't let J child #1 and his wife have a moment?  You had to make it about you?  Why aren't the daughter-in-law's parents here?  I'll tell you why.  They're not attention whores like you, Michelle.  That's why. 

Michelle's probably going to keep it up until she hits menopause or her uterus drops out and runs for the hills screaming like a banshee. The person I really pity in the situation is the oldest daughter.  I'd like to give her a gift.  I'd like to get her a a gross of condoms, a pound of weed, and a full ride scholarship to Cal. State Chico.  If after having a life she chooses to return to Deliverance Country and continue to raise her parents' children, that is her choice.  Right now, she's doing it because she's been brainwashed into believing that it's her choice.  She's also been brainwashed into believing that skydaddy wants her to do it.  She's had no choice, she's had no life.  She's been nothing but her mother's handmaiden.  That's yet another reason I hate Michelle Duggar.  

Ah, well.  I can always hope that the daughters break free from this form of slavery, and I can hope that maybe the sons will be attracted to women who totally reject the whole Quiverful concept.  Unfortunately, if J child #1 is any indication, that ain't gonna happen.  They're all looking for women who were raised just like their sisters have been raised.  I know what you're thinking.  We're not going there today.  Too disturbing. 

Well, in Michelle's case it is. 

Black Friday Recap 2011

Hello, Moonbats.  I now have Black Friday 2011 under my belt, and thought I'd share musings and observations with you.  It's always an interesting day that gives lots of topics for conversation - sometimes profane, sometimes profound, and sometimes just plain funny.  This year was no exception.

Years ago, when I first started doing Black Friday shopping, we didn't call it Black Friday - at least not around here we didn't.  We just called it the day after Thanksgiving, as in "I'm hitting the day after Thanksgiving sales."  I have to admit Black Friday is less of a mouthful.  Also, the sales usually started at 6:00 a.m.  A few stores opened at 5:00 a.m. and often I'd see the same people at the 6:00 store that I saw at the 5:00 store.  All of the stores had goodies to give out to the first x number of shoppers.  The number varied from store to store, but was usually either 500 or 1,000.  The goodies were also good.  One year Target gave out Tweety Bird tote bags with sample sizes of shampoo, lotion, conditioner and things like that.  The Fruit Bat (aka the daughter) was about 5 years old, so that goodie got wrapped up and put under the tree for her.  Same thing with the Elmo cookie tin K-Mart was giving away.  Several years back, the stores started opening earlier, the goodies went away, and I'm not sure about the calibre of the bargains.  If you're looking for electronics, they're fantastic.  If you're looking for other things, they're still worth getting up early, but hang back a bit and let the electronics shoppers do their grab.

I dickered and debated going to the midnight sales.  Actually, it would have been a 10:00 p.m. Thanksgiving night sale at Wal-Mart.  Then I decided that no, I would not do that.  First off, I think it's pretty chicken shit of Wally World to decide to open at 10:00 Thanksgiving night just to outdo Target by a couple of hours.  I mean, goddamn, how much money do the Wal-Mart heads need?  The employees probably had to come in a 3:00 a.m. to open at 5:00 a.m.; opening the store any earlier than that robs the workers of their Thanksgiving.  Same thing for Target opening at midnight.  Christ in a shopping cart, let your employees have Thanksgiving.  On the other side of that coin, I didn't particularly care for the Target employee complaining about it to me, especially since I didn't get to Target until 8:00 a.m.  I sympathize with you, but dude, inappropriate.  More on that later.

The first stop was Sears.  I haven't shopped at Sears in forever, but I did today.  It was pleasant.  The store opened at 4:00 a.m., but I didn't get there until 6:00.  The bed was just too comfortable to get up any earlier.  They have shopping carts now!  They didn't have those the last time I was there.  I told you it had been forever.  The employees were very friendly and helpful and all of the shoppers were happy.  There were two items I was there to get.  One was a camera bundle for me, and the other was something for the Fruit Bat.  I can't tell you what it is until Christmas lest the Fruit Bat tune into the Bark.  We'll just say that what I saved on that paid for the camera bundle.  Since I was there and had saved so much money and needed to spend another $10 to use my $10 off coupon, I decided to get myself some new duds. 

Next stop, Park Plaza Mall to hit Bath & Body Works.  I have a love/hate relationship with this particular mall.  It has some cool stores, and there's a Chinese food place in the food court that has no MSG food and wonderful sweet tea.  It's convenient to my office, so it's easy to grab & go with some good lunch.  Those are it's good points.  The bad points?  Dillards.  Dillards sucks ass.  I noticed a pair of old whores going into Dillards as I was leaving the mall, and it's all I could do to keep from running over them.  I say old whores - I doubt they're actually whores, just bitches.  These 50-something bitches who are more than likely on a first-name basis with numerous plastic surgeons were at one time young whores who thought Dillards was the shit.  I don't know the attitude about Dillards outside Arkansas, but here...balls, dude.  It's an Arkansas corporation, thus Arkansans get all braggy about it.  The shoppers are all rich bitches who tend to look down their noses at others and chose friends based on tax brackets.  There's something about old ladies and Dillards around here.  They hang out at Dillards until they're too feeble, then they go to the nursing home and their daughters go to Dillards for them.  The people who work there tend to look down their noses at bargain shoppers.  If they stayed within the confines of Dillards, I'd have no problem with them.  However, between dealing with the feeble old biddies in big-assed cars in the parking lot and the aging former beauty queens in track suits wandering aimlessly throughout the mall, I hate them.  Fuck Dillards and fuck their shoppers. 

Now that I've flipped a verbal bird at Dillards and its aficionados, it's time to give you a chuckle at my expense.  Traffic was awful getting in the front entrance of the mall, so I went in the back way.  Coming in that way, you're on the top of the parking deck, which is the third floor of the mall.  I go in the mall and head in the direction of Bath & Body Works only to be horrified to see a Payless Shoes where BBW should be.  WTF?  Where is my beloved BBW?  How will I ever smell good again in 127 years when I finally use up and/or give away all of the BBW products I already have?  Then I look down at the lower floor thinking I'll get a cuppa joe in the food court when I realize that I'm on the THIRD floor and BBW is one floor down.  Duh.  I'm blonde, alright.  I thought the top of the deck was at the second floor level of the mall.  At any rate, I shall now not stink for 131 years unless I choose to do so, and then I will still have a flowery funk about myself. 

Oh, yeah, going into Park Plaza I had the misfortune of getting behind a minivan plastered with jebus stickers, one of which proclaimed "real women pray."  Oooooookaaaaaay.  We'll bark about this next bark, but for today, back to the retail revelry recap.

The next stop was Walgreens, or as I call it Wags.  Again, I can't say enough nice things about the hired help, especially the cashier in the cosmetics section.  Often, cashiers will cringe at coupon shoppers (no, I'm not an extreme couponer - just a bargain hound), but she helped me find the items that had register rewards that I couldn't find and seemed to enjoy seeing how much we could get off the bill with the coupons.  No, I didn't get $1,000 worth of stuff for $1; but I did alright.

Next stop Gordman's.  Holy mother of balls, that place was PACKED.  I should have turned around, but noooo, must plod on.  Gordman's doesn't have anything special - it's mostly cheap clothes and knick-knacky type stuff, but they have a nice selection of jeans in my size and cheap.  I would like to know who the skinny bitch is who thinks it's funny to put size 2 clothes in with the women's sizes.  Fuck you, you skinny skank.  I hope your gut gets so big your brotherboyfriend can't find your cooter underneath it.  Then let's see how funny you think that shit is.  Bitch.  Anyway, the checkout line snakes from the back of the store up to the front, and nifty little impulse buys are strategically placed throughout the store.  I put more in my cart after I got in line than while I was technically shopping.  Interestingly, the line snaked through the lingerie section.  One rack in particular caught my eye - teeny tiny little lace thongs.  My first thought was that anyone with an ass small enough to fit in that is way too young to be wearing it.  My next thought was WTF.  If you're going to wear that, why not just go commando?  Maybe it's just me, but the thought of a teeny tiny tight little piece of butt floss digging in my ass all day just doesn't make me feel pretty.  Of course the line also snaked past the jewelry.  Add a few more xmas presents for from me into the cart.  Thankfully, nothing else begged to go home with me before I got to the cashier.  Time to take my merchandise and head to Garden Ridge. 

Garden Ridge is always fun.  It's filled with lots of frou-frou stuff that nobody needs but that for some reason makes you think your life won't be complete without it.  I love to oooh and aaaah at everything in the store.  They had a Beyonce metal chicken!  I didn't get it, though, because it had sharp edges and with the Baby Bat just learning to walk, it just didn't seem like a good idea.  It took me the better part of an hour to find about four things I just couldn't live without and head to the checkout.  

All damage having been done, I headed back home to treat myself to Thanksgiving leftovers and decking the halls with tacky tinsel. 

My Religion is Real; Your Religion Is A Cult

Robert Jeffress, chief asshole pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dallas, Texas, has endorsed Rick Perry.  He based his endorsement in part because Rick Perry is "a committed follower of Christ."  He then had this to say about Mitt Romney:  "Mitt Romney's a good moral person, but he's not a Christian. Mormonism is not Christianity.  It has always been considered a cult by the mainstream of Christianity."  Oh, the irony; and it's completely lost on the asshole that farted it out.

I can never decide if I want to laugh or scream when one branch of christianity piously points out the cultish behavior of another branch.  It's not that I disagree with the assertion.  It's just that it both amuses and annoys me that the accuser refuses to see the cultish behavior of his own brand of christianity.  The entire Abrahamic pantheon is cultish, but since my knowledge is primarily of christian behavior, I'll leave the discussion of Judaism and Islam to people more educated on the matters than I.  

It's not difficult to understand why Jeffress called the Mormon religion a cult.  The whole plural marriage thing alone is a bit bizarre to those of us in western society.  Then throw in the lost texts with a translating stone and lily-white natives in America (allegedly pleasing in appearance to skydaddy) and it does indeed resemble a cult.  Many mainstream Protestants also consider Jehovah's Witnesses and Catholics to be cultists and non-christian, too.  Of course, the ass clowns that call these religions cults and denounce the christianity of said religions omit the fact that the Mormons, Catholics and JWs believe in the same Christ as the rest of the christians.  If said ass clowns took the time to actually read their bibles, they'd know that believing in Jeebus is all that's required to be a christian (A man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law. -- Romans 3:28; Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. -- Romans 5:1; A man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ. -- Galatians 2:16; For by grace are ye saved through faith. -- Ephesians 2:8 ). 

It seems to be the evangelicals who do the most of this.  Evangelicals are comprised primary of Baptists and various charismatic (tongue-speakers) religions.  They fail to see their own cultish beliefs.  Let's break it down for them.  They idolize an execution device.  They make jewelry out of it.  The erect giant execution devices for which they spent large sums of money - not for the purpose of carrying out executions, but rather for the sake of glorifying the device itself.  They glorify blood sacrifice.  Some christian denominations practice symbolic cannibalism.  The Catholics believe the water and wine physically transform into the actual flesh and blood of Christ (transubstantiation), thus by their own beliefs, they practice ritual cannibalism.   Christians are obsessed by what happens after they die.  In fact, they're so obsessed with the so-called afterlife that they devalue the here and now.  To top it off, they consider practicing this bizarre bullshit to be a requirement for holding public office in the United States.  This brings me to my next point. 

Churches are tax exempt, but there are a few caveats.  IRS Code §501(c)(3) spells out what tax exempt organizations such as churches can and cannot do.  Endorsing candidates and lobbying are on the list of thou shalt nots.  Of course, the loophole is that it was the preacher doing it on his own and not as a representative of the First Douchebag Church.  Bullshit on all of that.  The church wants to meddle in the affairs of the state, thus I say tax the living dog shit out of the church.  Then tax the dog shit.  Let's see how many mega churches they build then.  Of course, finding a politician with the gonads to enforce 501(c)(3) is like finding a preacher with morals.  If there's one out there, he's on his own. 

Now that I've told you how all christian religions are nothing more than cults, I'm must sign off to practice the one true religion.  I am a slave to bunnies.  That's right, moonbats.  I worship the bunnies.  I do whatever they say.  They make no promises of afterlife and they grant no prayers or requests.  They do, however allow me to give them nose rubs and deem me worthy to feed them and clean their litter pans.  What more could one ask from one's chosen deity?

Horatio inspects the Christmas presents with a critical eye to ensure that they are acceptable and to make sure that there are boxes and boxes of treats for bunnies.  All hail the Mighty Horatio.

Are You Ready For Some Stupidity

So long, fucktard.  Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.

For the past twenty some odd years, Monday Night Football has started out with various versions of Hank Williams Jr.'s "All My Rowdy Friends Are Comin' Over Tonight."  ESPN has, at least temporarily, decided to end that tradition.  I don't have a problem with that.  Hell, I think Hank sucks out loud.  It's the reason that has me shaking my head.

Hank Jr. was being interviewed on Fox News (Faux News) - Fox and Friends to be precise.  The fact that this minimally talented, redneck alcoholic was providing political commentary is laughable.  Hank made a comment that Obama and Boehner playing a round of golf was like Hitler and Netanyahu playing a round of golf.  He then went on to call Obama and Biden the "enemy." ESPN subsequently canned Hank.  Apparently, that Hitler comparison didn't go over too well with the heads at ESPN.

I get what Hank was trying to say, however unfortunate his choice of words.  The point is that Obama and Boehner are at such polar opposite ends of the universe that trying to work it out over a round of golf is pointless.  For as many brain cells as Hank has drowned, I'll have to agree with the gist of the message.  Obama and Boehner trying to work it out over a round of golf was at best pointless; and more to the point, it was nothing but an opportunity for each of them to posture a bit for the press.  Now, back to that unfortunate choice of words - right-wingers have been comparing Obama to Hitler ever since he secured the nomination in 2008.  Hank's commentary isn't exactly something new.  It is a demonstration of the right wingnuts' lack of knowledge of world history.  Without searching through the archives of every knuckle-dragger who ever commented on Faux, I'm reasonable sure Hank isn't the only one who ever made the comparison on the air.  While I strongly disagree with him and I'm sure not sad to see him go, I'm just not diggin' the reason.  Sure, this isn't the type of censorship that the First Amendment protects against.  There is no government entity calling for Hank to be silenced.  This was wholly the decision of a private corporation.  It just seems, well, wrong to dump Hank for this reason. 

But for his father's fame, Hank Williams, Jr. would not even be a topic of conversation.  He would be another hairy redneck stumbling around the trailer park shirtless, his pregnant gut hanging over his oversized belt buckle, beating his wife and drinking up the rent.  He sucks ass.  Granted, I like the catch-phrase "are you ready for some football," but Hank sucks.  If ESPN had punted his ass for sucking, cool.  If they punted his ass for being a washed up, no talent, drunken redneck, cool.  Punting for expressing his opinion about a political matter, not so cool.  I understand why they did it.  They're a corporation and they make their money in part on their ratings.  If one of their on-air personalities alienates a large portion of their audience, he has to go.  It's nothing personal.  It's a financial decision.  

I guess I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth.  I'm glad the knuckle-dragger is gone.  I would have just preferred it would have been for some reason other than shooting off his mouth.

This is from the refined end of Bocephus's gene pool.



One Less

A commercial came out a few years back that had pre-pubescent little girls playing jump rope and chanting "o-n-e-l-e-s-s-I-wanna-be-one-less."  One less what?  One less cervical cancer statistic.  The commercial is for Gardisil, the vaccine against Human Papilloma Virus ("HPV"), which causes cervical cancer.  HPV is sexually transmitted, and the best time to vaccinate against it is before a person becomes sexually active.  A vaccine to prevent cancer is a good thing, right?  Not necessarily.  Not if you're a bible-waiving, right wing, fundamentalist, history revisionist, scientifically uneducated fucktard. 

The teahadists recently hosted a debate of the current Repugnantcan candidates.  It was like nails on a chalkboard at a farting contest.  It was awful.  I don't know if they were trying to demonstrate who was the most stupid, who had the least understanding of US history and government, or who could blather the most anti-abortion bullshit while demonstrating the most utter contempt for those who are already here.  At one point in the debate, the issue came up of Gov. Rick Perry's executive order mandating Gardisil vaccines for all sixth-grade girls in Texas.  These are girls who are around twelve years old - girls who, under ordinary circumstances, are not yet sexually active.  These are girls who would benefit the most from the vaccine.   Michele Batshit Bachmann Batshit (hereinafter referred to as "Batshit") went, well, batshit.  After spending a great portion of the so-called debate nattering about "those poor little girls," and "government mandated vaccines" (she's against it), Batshit goes on national TV the next morning flat-out lying.  You can read it here.  

I guess someone forgot to tell Batshit that the state governments have been mandating vaccines since at least 1965.  I'm reasonably certain that it goes back farther than that, as my parents - baby boomers - were vaccinated.  Someone also forgot to tell Batshit that parents can be exempted from vaccinating their children on certain grounds.  The funny part, though, was how she went on and on about "those poor little girls." The way she went at it, one would think those poor little girls were being held down and gang raped by the Texas Aggie yell leaders.  Christ on the crapper.  What about the poor adult woman who develops cervical cancer twenty years from now because Batshit and her ilk blocked a sixth-grader's access to a vaccine that would have prevented cancer? 

Batshit and the moral brigade are in a tizzy because the vaccine prevents cancer of the female reproductive system that is caused by a virus that is sexually transmitted.  I guess they think every woman who has ever been exposed to HPV is some sort of shameless hussy who indiscriminately banged every frat rat on frat row and liked it.  They have some sort of twisted idea that vaccinating against a sexually transmitted disease will somehow cause chaste, virgin, future bible beaters to turn into insatiable sluts.  There are a lot of factors they don't take into account.  Being a chaste, bible beating bitch does not, in and of itself, shield a woman from sexually transmitted diseases.  She could be raped and exposed to who knows what, up to and including HIV.  She might be chaste, but what if her husband's a whore dog?  The self-righteous right-wingers never look at the entire picture.  They're only interested in cramming their own personal version of piety down everyone else's throats.  While they're busy trying to block access to vaccine and discourage parents from getting their daughters vaccinated, if a causal link between HPV and prostate cancer was ever determined, the same bunch of fuckers would make the vaccine a sacrament. 

Ironic, isn't it, how a certain segment of our society spends so much time obsessing over a fetus, but doesn't care one bit about that fetus once it draws its first breath of air?  Infuriating, isn't it, how that same segment of our society wants to control every uterus and every aspect of every uterus, including keeping women from preventing their uterus from becoming cancerous?  Maddening, isn't it, that people actually vote these fuckers into positions of power?

Open Letter to a Teabagger

If they were at a women's rights rally, would they have shown up with tampons hanging from their hats? 

Dear Teabagger: 

Yes, I know you don't like being called teabagger.  I don't like my country's economy and credit rating being hijacked by dimwits who haven't a clue as as to how the nation's economy works and haven't a care as to the negative effects they cause.  All I've hurt is your feelings.  You've damaged not only the US economy, but also the world's economy.

Please quit patting yourself on the back over the fact that you've had an effect on the world.  The purpose of changing the world is to change it for the better.  You've hurt us all.  You are the reason Standard & Poor's lowered our credit rating.  You don't care.  It was all about opposing Obama, wasn't it?  If you cause the whole country to go into a full-blown depression opposing Obama, it's worth it to you, isn't it?  And then you'll blame me and all of the "libtards" because we voted for Obama. 

I've noticed that teabaggers are real good at spouting "we the people."  Can you recite the rest of the Preamble?  You do know what the Preamble is, don't you?  I'm beginning to think that you can't recite and don't understand the rest of the Preamble.  You don't even consider the rest of the country to be a part of "we the people."  To you, we the people consists of only people who look and think like you.  The rest of us don't matter to you. 

It's painfully obvious that you do not enjoy being on the minority end of a democracy.  Nobody does, but this "take back our country" goes a bit far.  From whom are you going to take back your country?  From the majority of voters who elected Barack Obama?  From people who are tired of your culture of war?  Yeah, that's another hoot about y'all.  You scream pro-life to the sky, but you're in love with war.  You do realize that the objective of war is to kill people, don't you?  Somehow, you think dying in war is better than being aborted.  I've asked people of your ilk to explain it, but all I ever get is something along the lines of "you libtards don't get it."  You're right.  I don't get it.  Why do you think I was asking you to explain it, genius?  From the fact that you would prefer to try to be cute instead of of answering the question, I'm of the mindset that you don't get it either.  Someone told you that this is how it is,and so you took it as the gospel. 

Now that I've segued into gospel, what's your deal with the commingling of the church and state?  You're all about "taking America back for Jesus."  What makes you so sure your Jesus wants it?  Maybe he washed his hands of it.  Yes, I know.  If he punted on America, it's because of libtard Atheists like me.  We ran him out of the schools and government and so he doesn't go where he isn't wanted.  It's that whole I stand at the door and knock scripture.  Well, that's not what I'm talking about.  Granted, I don't believe in your Jesus, but for the sake of this part of the discussion, we'll say he really does exist.  What makes you so certain that he ever wanted anything to do with America?  What makes you think he cares at all about America?  I can't help but think that if America was as important to skydaddy and Jesus as you claim it is, there'd have been at least a book or two in the bible about it.  Everything else that was as important to skydaddy as you think America is got at least one book in the bible.  Why not one for America?  I know Joseph Smith put one in the Book of Mormon, but the thing about that is that the average teabagger doesn't consider Mormons to be "real christians."  You only consider people who look and think like you to be real anything. 

You're very thin-skinned.  You've gone completely sideways about being called terrorists, but what else would you call it?  As I stated earlier, you hijacked this nation's economy and credit rating for no reason other than to oppose Barack Obama.  You had a lot of us gripped in pure fear.  We were afraid you really were going to collapse the economy.  Papa Moonbat and I have 19 years left on a 30 year mortgage.  We have not struggled, scrimped, saved, clipped coupons and worked two jobs at times just to lose our house because a bunch of clueless right-wing teahadists collapsed the nation's economy just to prove to the sitting President that they could do it.  You deserve to be called terrorists.  Get over yourselves.  

Where were you when Dubya raised the debt ceiling six - count them, six - times?  Where was your moral outrage about that?  Where was your pious wailing about mortgaging our children's future then?  In fact, where was your concern about mortgaging the children's future when Reagan was mortgaging mine?  What makes it so acceptable when a Republican president does it and so unacceptable when it's a Democrat.  Oh, something you failed to realize about the debt ceiling - it wasn't about borrowing more money.  It was about being able to make the payments on what we already owe.  The interest accruing has caused the debt to reach the limit.  By law, unless the limit (the debt ceiling) is raised, the US Treasury couldn't make any more payments because we were at the limit.  I can't even blame your failure to understand this on ignorance.  It's been explained to you.  You refuse to accept that this is how it is.  You're too busy parading around in goofy costumes with tea bags hanging off your hat to actually absorb facts.  You don't want facts.  You want your little right-wing, church and state ruling each other, rich getting richer off the backs of everyone else world.  What's that?  You say you don't want the state ruling the church?  Guess what?  When the church rules the state, the state rules the church.  Look at the middle east if you don't believe me.  Besides, what branch of christianity would you put in charge?  You can't even agree on who is a christian and who isn't.  Yes, I know Christian and Christianity are supposed to be capitalized.  Do you know why?  No, it's not because skydaddy said so.  They are proper nouns.  I do not capitalize the words because I have no respect for christianity and refuse to accept it as anything proper except proper stupidity.   

I'm concerned about your standards for President of the United States ("POTUS").  You make such a big deal about Sarah Palin being qualified because you think she's pretty and she shoots off her mouth a lot.  Since when did being pretty qualify anyone for anything other than being pretty?  Being pretty shouldn't disqualify anyone from anything, but if that's all they have to offer, they don't have much.  As for her shooting off her mouth, it wouldn't be so bad if she actually knew what she was shooting off about.  As it is, she just runs that mouth ninety-to-nothing and you hang on her every word.  Some of you even went so far as to get on Wikipedia and try to re-write the history of Paul Revere's ride to conform with what Sarahcuda blathered off.  Sad.  Just sad.  You'd rather perpetuate a lie than admit that she's a dunce. 

I can go on and on, teabagger; but I've touched on what's really bothering me right now.  I do have one question for you before I go.  If Barack Hussein Obama, II was a white man named Eugene Seymour Jones, would you have even attempted your attempt at organizing?  Think about it, but spare me the "some of my best friends are black" spiel. 

Human tea bag or just another giant douche bag?  You decide.

Conversation With A Pagan Deity

The recent lost of our beloved Wolfgang has had me wishing for a beautiful, peaceful afterlife and thinking what an afterlife might be like if it was run by pagan deities - you know, the ones that predate skydaddy, jebus and the righteous spook.  I've always thought that in terms of religious beliefs, the new agers have a much better concept of it than the Abrahamic folks.  Their only rule is "harm none, do as you will."  I can dig that.  In fact, that is my main philosophy in life.  It's not exactly the rule of reciprocity, but it's in the same vein.  It tells me to not harm others and allows me to do my own thing without shame or guilt.  The pagan afterlife is pretty cool, too.  They go to this nice place they call Summerland, and after a period of time, they reincarnate.  Now, if summer in Summerland is anything like summer in the southern US, they can keep it.  I've already experienced enough of that, thank you.  It's akin to Dante's third circle of hell.  Reincarnation could be cool, too.  Maybe a chance to improve on the things we did wrong in this life.  Or it could suck - imagine coming back as a gay man somewhere that Islamic law is the law of the land.  Which got me to wondering about conversing with the deities who occupy this Summerland...

The setting is a nice, lush meadow.  A pleasant breeze is blowing, the sun is shining, the temperature is around 72 F.  There are wild flowers growing in the meadow, a pond is in the distance, and something colorful and radiant is also in the distance.  I'm sitting under a shade tree, bucket booty nekkid, with the bod I had at 27, and admittedly confused.  Suddenly, a woman appeared before me, and the following conversation ensued.

Momma Moonbat ("MB"):  Who are you, and where am I?

Mystery Woman ("Goddess"):  I'm a goddess, and this is Summerland.

MB:  Summerland?  As in pagan heaven?  You're shittin' me, right?

Goddess:  What's the last thing you remember before you saw me?

MB:  I was lighting an M80 tied to a Redneck Rocket with a cherry bomb super glued to it and a fire fartin' chicken rigged to the cherry bomb, and telling everyone "Hey, y'all!  Watch this!"

Goddess:  Yep.

MB:  Ah, a southerner's famous last words.

Goddess:  Yep.

MB:  Duuuuude.  Ok.  Hmmm...you do realize I was an atheist in life, don't you?

Goddess:  Yes.  We get a lot of atheists here.  We get everyone here.  This is where you go when you die.

MB:  Alright, now I'm really confused.  You're obviously not skydaddy, er, um, the Abrahamic god.  In fact, since gods apparently do exist, where is that fucker.  I want to kick him in the nuts.  And since I didn't believe in any god, does that mean I have to go to hell?

Goddess:  No, you're not going to any hell, and you were right about the Abrahamic deity.  It does not exist.  The whole pantheon is a load of bullshit.  Some fucker named Abraham decided to sell a bill of "my god is bigger than your god" to a bunch of Bronze Age goat herders who didn't know any better, and it just snowballed from there.  First, there's the original faction going off to rape, kill, pillage and loot, and saying that their god wanted them to do it.  Then the nutty fuckers break off into another faction, and then into yet a third faction, then the three divisions have their own sub-categories and each of 'em's a bit nuttier than the next.  You know that, though.  You've been living around the nuts.  By the way, I like that term skydaddy, I'll have to use it the next time I hear one of them say "heavenly father." 

MB:  Yeah, that was my way of ripping on them for that heavenly father crap.  So, how many of y'all are there, anyway?

Goddess:  I don't really know.  I never took a head count.  There's the Greek and Roman pantheons, which are the same pantheon, just with different names.  Their gods will answer to either name, so it's all good.  There's the Egyptians, the Norse, the Germanic, the Hindus, Shin tau...I know there's more.  I just can't think of them all.  Oh, the neopagan/Wiccan "the god" and "the goddess"...put that in the same heap with Abrahamic skydaddy.  It's a bunch of made-up bullshit.  Gerald Gardner pulling the same bunch of crap that the Abrahamic fuckers did.  He just wanted to see chicks naked.
MB:  Yeah, speaking of, where are my clothes?  And where are yours?  Aren't you supposed to be wearing robes or something?
Goddess:  Nobody wears clothes here.  We dwell in our natural state, but unlike the human realm, it's no biggie.  Seriously, nobody's going to be ogling your rack and no horndog is going to try to impress you with his wong.  It might feel a bit awkward at first, but you'll be used to it by tomorrow.
MB:  Alright.  As long as I don't have to deal with the pot bellied, hairy dudes who wore Speedos and commented on every woman's every flaw.  Anyway, I take it there are a lot of you gods here.  Why did y'all allow the humans to invent skydaddy and commit atrocities in his name?  Why didn't any of y'all appear before the humans and put a stop to it?

Goddess:  We're not too inclined to meddle in the affairs of humans.  Sorry.  It's just not our thing, and humans never expected it until the whole skydaddy thing came along.  Abraham had to pimp skydaddy as being all things to all people to get followers.  Pretty soon, humans are sending up requests to a nonexistent god, expecting the requests to be answered.  In order to pacify them when those requests go unfulfilled, the priests came up with the "mysterious ways" verbiage; and the people ate it.  
MB:  Sorry.  I'm going to have to call bullshit on someone here.  Either you're shall we say, historically challenged, or the so-called ancient scribes had vivid imaginations because Greek and Roman mythology is full of tales of the gods becoming involved in human matters.
Goddess:  There's a reason it was called mythology.
MB:  Touche'.  Not to change the subject, but what's with the shiny thing in the distance.  I can't seem to take my eyes off of it, and it's almost like it's calling me.

Goddess:  That's the Rainbow Bridge.  You have many beloved ones waiting for you there.  Go to them.  I'll be here when you get back.  And take your time.  It's been a while since you've seen some of them.

I head toward the Rainbow Bridge, happy that it is real, anxious to see my fin, feather, fur and scale babies again.  I'm also puzzled.  Not only are there gods, but they're not assholes like skydaddy.  At least skydaddy's not real. 

Two weeks later, I'm back under the shade tree with an entourage of pets.  As promised, the mystery goddess is waiting for me. 

Goddess:  It's so good to see y'all reunited.  That's one of the best parts about being here.  It always warms my heart to see this.
MB:  Yeah, I'm loving it.  All of my critters are here, and I've seen everyone I loved who died before me.  My grandparents mentioned that they won't be here much longer.  They said they're ready to reincarnate.  That kind of sucks.  Just as I get to see them again, they're gone. 
Goddess:  Yes, but it's a bit different here.  You won't notice that they're gone, and the memory of them will simply disappear.  It's our way of keeping sadness out of our realm.
MB:  That's pretty cool.  I'm starting to half-way understand how this place works, but what about all of the christians?  How do they react to finding out that they wasted their entire human life trying to appease that which does not exist?
Goddess:  It's a mixed bag.  Most of them aren't quite as irrational here as they were there.  Their preachers had a pretty powerful hold on them and played on their fears and greed to the hilt.  Once they get here and have concrete evidence in front of them, they usually accept it for what it is and enjoy their stay here.
MB:  What about the ones who don't? 
Goddess:  We kick 'em out.  They go back to the human realm immediately.  We saw how they fucked up your realm.  We don't want that shit here. 
MB:  The preachers - yeah, what about them?  I always thought that more than half of them didn't buy the bullshit they were selling and that it was nothing more than a hustle to them.  What happens to them when they get here?  Send 'em right back?
Goddess:  You're right in your belief that most of them were peddling a bill of goods to satiate their own greed.  We have a way of dealing with them.  They get sent back to the human realm as peasants, for lack of a better term, in areas festering with famine and disease.  Then there are the preachers who truly believed the venom they spewed.  Things get interesting where they're concerned.  For example, Jerry Falwell.
MB:  Oh, do tell.
Goddess:  When good ol' Jerry got here, it was Hera's turn to greet the newcomers.  I forgot to mention we all take turns doing that.  Anyway, Hera greets Jerry and right away he gets all red-faced and starts bellowing and foaming the mouth and spewing at Hera that she's a false god and a harlot and he's pointing at her and getting all belligerent.  Thing is, some parts of mythology are true.  Hera doesn't put up with bullshit.  At all.  I don't know what pissed her off more, being called  false god when she's there in front of him - woman, myth and legend - or being called a harlot.  Either way, Jerry stepped off into it.  Hera bitchpopped ol' Jerry upside the head, created a hell just like what he had preached all about, and tossed his ass in it.  He ain't gettin' out, either.  He gave up his chance at reincarnation when he pissed off Hera.  His hell was an eternal place, so that's just what she gave him.  If she wakes up in a good mood, she takes one of Zeus's thunder bolts and zaps Jerry's balls as part of her morning routine.
MB:  Damn.  What does she do if she wakes up in a bad mood?
Goddess:  You don't want to know, but it involves Poseidon's trident and Jerry's ass.
MB:  I get the gist.  Just curious, do y'all have anything in mind for Fred Phelps when he croaks?
Goddess:  Oh, yes.  While it is not our nature to get involved with matters in your realm, that doesn't mean that we don't occasionally express disapproval.  Most humans just go through their day to day lives getting through to the next day and don't really bother anyone.  If they bother anyone at all, it's harmless natterfly type stuff.  However, there are people who thrive on causing harm.  The gods of justice cannot let that go unchecked - it's not their nature.  They tend to let their punishments fit the crimes, and they're quite creative.  When Fred gets here, he will have to watch gay men have sex all day and all night.
MB:  That's not punishment!  That old fucker's a closet queen and he'll get off on it.
Goddess:  Ah, but here's where the creativity comes in.  Fred's hands will be bound so that he can't jack off.  He has to suffer with the world's worst case of blue balls.
MB:  Tantalus.  Diggin' it. Anyway, how long do I stay here before I go back to the human realm.
Goddess:  You go back when you wake up.  This has all been a dream.  You've suffered a terrible loss recently and your subconscious mind desperately wants there to be a peaceful afterlife.  This is a perfectly normal reaction.  Nobody wants to say goodbye to their loved ones - human or animal; but you'll wake up and you'll move on, just as you always have. 

The alarm clock goes off.  I wake up, hit the snooze, and spend the next five minutes thinking Papa Moonbat and I are due for a picnic and feed the ducks date.

 

Jebus on Facebook

Before I get to today's bark, I do have an announcement.  The Moonbat family has grown yet again.  Militant Atheist Son got married this past week.  He married a nice, Atheist girl.  We're very happy to welcome her to the bat cave. 

Now, down to the barkin'.  Bible thumpers never miss an opportunity to try to thump the rest of us with their weapon of choice.  If the opportunity isn't there, they'll do something to create an opportunity.  They view social networks such as Facebook (and the old MSN and Yahoo groups) as a great, big proselytizing playground.  Unfortunately, this hasn't replaced the knock-knock fundies.  It's only supplemented the effort.  The good thing about the electronic preaching is that one can always delete, ignore, or otherwise discard the offending data without having to suffer through its contents.   Today, I thought I'd pick through some of the more nauseating, annoying, irksome skydaddyjebusrighteousspook posts/messages/groups making the rounds and poke a little fun at them.  Feel free to jump in with your own snarky commentary if the notion strikes.

First up, we have a couple of farts designed to be Facebook statuses.  

This methane bomb:

"When you carry the Bible, Satan gets a headache. When you open it, he collapses. When he sees you reading it, he faints. When he sees you living it, he flees. And just when you're about to re-post this, he'll try to discourage you......Any takers?"

My response:  Fuck you.  (Granted, that's my response to all religious bullshit.)  There is no Satan, and if there was, he's not worried about your petty ass.  Your buybull doesn't cause him to faint or collapse, and it wasn't Satan who caused me to not spread your load of bullshit.  It was logic and reason and a flat out disdain for stupidity that prevented me from reposting. 

And this turd in the trousers:

"I personally believe in Jesus Christ. One Facebooker has challenged all believers to put this on their wall. The Bible says, if you deny Me in front of your peers, I will deny you in front of My Father. This is a simple test. If you are not afraid to show it, re-post this. I proudly did~ I don't just believe in him, I know Him."

This one annoys me more that most.  That whole "if you deny me, I'll deny you" childishness just sticks in my craw.  It's the Bronze Age goat herders' version of "you would if you love me" and people do it to this day.  Oh, and if you don't repost it, then you're afraid.  It goes back to the mentality of "you have to do it my way or you're wrong" that I wrote about when discussing southerners.  Then there's that "I know Him" bit.  I never understood why xtians capitalized pronouns.  Him is not a proper noun, thus in the above sentence, it should not be capitalized.  I would like to know how the fundy in question knows "Him" (sic), though.  Has he personally appeared before her - man, myth and legend - in the flesh?  Or is it just a bunch of so-called signs?  Maybe she saw jebus in the urine stain in the carpet where the puppy piddled.  Inquiring minds would like to know.

There are also several pages and groups devoted to kissing skydaddy's ass all day, every day.  It can be fun to sit and read the crap.  It has to be taken with a grain of salt, though; or one could get mighty depressed at the thought that these people live among us, the vote and they breed. 

We have this:

"WITHOUT HIM , LIFE CANNOT BE LIVE TO THE FULLEST, WITH UNCONDITION LOVE, THANK YOU FOR RESCURING ME , FRIST , FROM MYSELF , THAN SIN,,THANK YOU JESUS, WHERE THERE'S POWER AT THE CROSS."

Xtians love all-caps.  They have to shout about jebus, after all.  One thing that stands out with the above dog turd is that the spelling and grammar are atrocious.  That is a commonality among jebus people on the net.  I don't understand why.  I don't condone their lack of scientific knowledge, but at least I understand why that happens.  The bible - the King James version, at least - is the epitome of the King's English.  One would think that they could at least have a basic knowledge of spelling and grammar. 

Next:

"I said, " The path is steep." He said, " I'm at your side."
I said, "But I am weak." He said, "For you I died."
...I said, "Dark valleys come." He said, "I'll guide you through."
I said, "But I'm not brave." He said, "I'll walk with you."
I said, "Be light to me, And strength as I go on."
He said, "I'm more. I'm love, You'll never walk alone."

Alright, how about:  I said:  "My leg got blown off by an IED."  He said:  "Sucks to be you."

Shit in one hand and pray in the other.

Another ditty:

"Ask The Elder Radio Show  To ALL Atheists..... Please stay away from these ridiculous Atheist websites that sends you out on a Wild Goose chase to ask Christians the same questions over and over again to try and prove that God doesn't exist. Due to your ignorance on how to interpret the bible, you will trip and fall every time. You just wasted 2 weeks of my life asking circular questions. Then after you fail, you get tongue tide and use profanity and threats of violence. But thanks for hitting the "Like" button"

This one made me  think of my buds Bart and Brent.  They're gooooood at heckling fundy pages.  However, there isn't really any organized atheist movement to go we therefore and harass all fundies.  Dipshit ads for fundy pages appear on the right side of the screen and we get sick of it.  Go to any atheist-based page and check the right side of your screen.  Fundy pages galore.  We're atheists, for fuck's sake.  We don't want any skydaddy.  I guess some fundy thought it would be a really nifty way to save souls by putting jebus pages out there anytime the word "atheist" appears.  They didn't think that one through.  We just go to your pages to harass the living hell out of you, and if you have half a brain, you'll end up questioning your own beliefs when we're through with you.  If you don't want to be bothered by us, the solution is simple:  leave us the fuck alone. 

Finally, I'd like to share a link to a doozy.  I think those tongue speaking fuckers are completely, unabashedly, beyond any doubt, full-blown batshit crazy.  There's no other way to put it.  Rather than copy and paste snippets and try to figure out who is more batshit than whom, I'll just post a link to the page and you can dig it for yourself. 

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Speaking-in-Tongues/39727361497

Admittedly, I'm half tempted to join the page, post sybionekholibyahsy shoudtnbytgapspgt hshsytbjtt, tell 'em I'm typing in tongues and see if anyone amens it.

That's it for today, moonbats.  Until next time, that image in your toast isn't Jeebus.  It's the Zig Zag man.

Saying Goodbye

Wolfgang

2001 - 2011

Sorry for the absence.  Things have been out of kilter in the bat cave recently.  I came down with a wicked case of the shingles, which took the wind out of my sails for the better part of three weeks.  Thank you, skydaddy, for visiting such an affliction upon me.  You've reaffirmed my belief that you're a dogshit.  Yeah, I know.  There is no skydaddy and the shingles is a left-over from chicken pox that rears its ugly head when we're adults.  I just wanted to take a gratitutious dig at xtians who view illness as a blessing from skydaddy.  Masochists.

I mentioned in my last post that our Akita had cancer.  Yesterday, we let him go.  I had said that as long as he was enjoying his life, I would do whatever it took to allow him to have that enjoyment; and that he would tell me when he was ready to go.  He had a cancerous tumor on the left side of his face, in the jaw area.  As it grew, he scratched at it until the skin tore.  From that point on, we had to keep his head bandaged.  He enjoyed his treats, time with his humans, taunting Henry and lounging with his harem.  Of course, the tumor grew as tumors will do.  There was also bleeding because it was a fungating wound.  Keeping it wrapped and bandaged controlled the bleeding and kept the would from getting infected, but cancer is cancer. 

Wednesday evening, he was happy.  He enjoyed his liver sausage.  He enjoyed his petting.  He enjoyed his harem.  Sometime during the night, however, the tumor almost doubled in size.  He got the bandage off and bled pretty heavily.  Thursday morning, he was ready.  We knew.  We decided then to do it Saturday.  We had to make it through the work week.  We switched his pain meds from Novox to Tramadol (the vet had prescribed the narcotic for such a situation).  Yesterday morning, we let him go.  It was peaceful.  He's not hurting anymore. 

At times like this, I wish the whole heaven thing was real.  Maybe not the whole thing.  I can do without skydaddy and his crew; but I wish there was some place on the other side of this existence where everyone is healthy and in their prime, we're with all of our loved ones, nobody ever hurts or dies, and everyone is always happy.  Utopia.  At times like this, I do allow myself the indulgence of thinking that maybe there is such a place on the other side of our existence.  I know it's not there, but every now and then I wish it was.  I wish the Rainbow Bridge was real.

Wolfgang working to get Henry to the fence.  We had to keep them in separte kennels because male Akitas don't get along with other male dogs.  Every morning, Wolfgang would work to get Henry to come to the fence.  As soon as Henry would get there, Wolfgang would hike his leg and pee at him.

The Wolfman with his haren - Hattie is the red one, Duchess is the black one with the greying muzzle, and Oreo is in the front, black with white on the tip of her snout.  You'll have to look closely because Duchess and Oreo blend together.  On the left, the patch of black is Henry.  Wolfgang and the harem are talking a load of smack to Henry.

My apologies for the fact that the fence gets in the way of the picture.  Sometimes the only way I can get  pic of the dogs is to put them in the kennel.  If I try to take pics of them otherwise, as soon as they see the camera they want to jump up and put their snout square in the lense.

Save Your Confederate Bills - Part Deux

Just another example of redneck fashion essentials.

Ok, Moonbats.  I know I'm a few days late on this, but I've been dealing with an Akita with cancer.  In between trips back and forth to the vet, trying to figure out how to keep a bandage on his head when the conehead collar wouldn't work and contemplating prostitution to finance the vet care, I haven't had a chance to do much barking.  Add to this equasion the fact that the topic can be somewhat painful, as I'm forced to recall being on the receiving end of a whole lot of that southern hospitality and christian love.  Yeah. 

For those of you just joining us, the last bark was a southerner's view of southern lunacy.  This was in response to a northerner's question about the gross stupidity in the southern United States.  That wasn't quite how he phrased it, but it boils down to that.  I had to come up for air at some point and decided that this requires two barks.

As many outsiders have observed and I have discussed, religion reigns supreme in the southern US.  Christianity, to be precise.  Anything that isn't christian is suspect.  Judaism is tolerated because most southern christians believe the bible directs them to tolerate Jews.  That doesn't mean be friends with them or anything like that.  Just support Israel over Palestine and you've fulfilled skydaddy's requirements.  If you are neither xtian nor Jewish, you might as well be an axe murderer.  Much of this comes down to the fact that southerners are very insecure.  Southerners, as a general rule, don't have the spine to march to their own drum, particularly if nobody else is marching to that cadence.  They need affirmation.  If you do as I do, behave as I behave, believe as I believe, then that means I'm right.  If you don't, I might be wrong.  I can't be wrong, so I'm going to bully you into falling in line with me as proof that I'm right. 

The aforementioned insecurity comes through in our men in the form of beligerence.  Their pugnacity is the bastard child of thier insecurity.  So much boils down to fighting.  If a guy wants to impress a girl, he brags about how good he can fight.  He might even pick a fight or two when she's around just to show her.  Get a group of rednecks together and they'll find the weakest fellow they can find and then gang up on him.  As Ron White says, these are the people who jack off to Road House.  I've never been able to figure out what makes a pack of over-muscled knuckle-draggers think that 5 of them picking on a dude that weighs a buck-twenty-five makes them manly.  When approached by such baboons and their bravado, I have a nasty tendency to openly show my disdain, disgust, and outright scorn.  The baboons usually call me a bitch, tell me that I think I'm better than everyone else (southerners have a real hang up with this), and then start talking about how many women they've hit.  They can't understand why this doesn't cause me to grovel at their feet.  The good news is that this doesn't seem to inflitrate our educated men.  I would like to say that it has been educated out of them, but that's not so.  These baboons have no desire to get an education because...that's right...educated people think they're better than everyone else.  No, Billyjackjimbobbubbaray, I don't THINK I'm better than you.  I KNOW it for a proven fact.  I've evolved.  You are the primoridal ooze. 

Billyjackjimbob and Bubba Ray prepare for the skins vs. shirts Pabst Blue Ribbon chugging and possum eating contest.

The issue of "old times there are not forgotten" is always lurking in the shadows, as well.  Old times can sometimes be a good thing.  I have fond memories of my grandfather's farm - the garden in the summer, making homemade ice cream on the front porch, helping take care of the cows.  I try to do things that will bring fond memories of good times to my family, both the ancestors and the progeny.  Those are not the "old times" that are not forgotten in the south, though.  The old times not forgotten here would be pre-1957.  One could argue that it would be prior to Brown v. Board of Education, 349 U.S. 294 (1955); but the forced integration of Little Rock Central High in 1957 cast the die for Jim Crow's demise.  I say Jim Crow's demise - I and everyone else in the south knows Jim Crow isn't dead and unfortunately, is coming out of that coma.  The election of a black man to the White House has caused a whole lot of southerners who long for the "old times" to lose their goddamned minds.  I married a black man long before it was a cool thing to do and I've never seen this kind of racism.  Sometimes I think the racists fear being on the receiving end of what they've done unto others; but at other times, I think they fear someone of another race being proven to be better than them.  

There's that business about thinking someone is better than someone else, again.  That's a carry-over from the plantation days.  At the bottom of the white people food chain were the sharecroppers.  They had a little shack on land owned by the plantation owner and gave him a percentage of their yearly crop as rent.  They got to keep just enough to survive, but nothing more.  The plantation owner didn't allow his kids to play with the sharecroppers' kids.  In the middle was the overseer.  He was the fellow who oversaw the day-to-day operations of the plantation, and in particular, the slaves.  He made sure the slaves did everything demanded of them, didn't break any rules, didn't run away, and depending on his demeanor, could make their lives a worse hell than it already was.  He also oversaw the sharecroppers to make sure they weren't holding out on the crop division.  He had a little bit of power because of his position.  He also had a little jingle in his pocket - not much, just enough to buy a small patch of land with a house a shade better than a shack, and maybe buy his wife something nice once a year.  His kids occasionally interacted with the plantation owner's kids, but they weren't friends or playmates.  Many overseers and their families did indeed look down their noses at the sharecroppers and certainly the slaves.  Then we have the plantation owner.  The big dog daddy, the head motherfucker in charge.  Everyone is beholden unto him:  the slaves, the sharecroppers, the overseers, everyone.  He and the other plantation owners are the masters of the southern universe, answerable to nobody but the lady of the manor.  The whole world is answerable to her and woe unto anyone who doesn't say "how high, ma'am" when she says jump.  Sharecroppers are thrown out of their shacks, overseers are fired and slaves are beaten.  I'm sad to say, but this mindset is still alive and well in the southern United States to this day. 

I unearthed this jewel when searching for some nifty pix to illustrate today's bark.  Dig this:  http://www.topix.com/forum/city/richmond-ky/TAK2ND318FV2EBLK8  The "outlawwomen" person makes me want to beat my head against a brick wall.  She's PROUD to be a dumbfuck.  Sigh.

WTF???

I've asked myself and have been asked why I don't unload this den of dumbfuckery and head north.  The answer is as complex as the southern way of life.  Mainly, my family is here.  Looking at some of my relatives, that could be taken as another reason to head north.  There are some good things to be said for the southern way of life.  The north is the great unknown.  I don't know if I could get a good job.  Jeff Foxworthy once pointed out that it's hard to sound intelligent with a southern drawl, and dog help me, mine is thick enough you need a chain saw to cut through it.  And, all in all, while I'm surrounded by nitwits, there is a lot to be said for living in a less-populated area.   

Hopefully, I've given you a better understanding of how the southern mind sputters and spews.  I'm working on having a guest writer on this topic.  I've asked Papa Moonbat to write a guest column on being black in the southern US.  Until then...bark, bark!

HEY!  Y'ALL!  WATCH THIS!!!

OMFG!  I want one of those torches.  I can't help it.  I'm a product of my raisin'.