Bernie Sanders has won a Senate seat in Vermont. Bernie’s a Socialist and he’s Gay. He beat out the richest man in Vermont—oh how the rich want to be in politics! Amazing! It’s like a hobby with them. But it’s also a boon to their nest-egg security because as politicians they are in Washington, District of Corruption, in the heart of the big bonus buck world, the big ability to allow mergers, the ability to make laws in favor of your wealth. This rich asshole in little ole Vermont spent more money per voter in the history of elections in this country. Bernie beat his ass. The people of Vermont are mostly expatriate New York Cityans—I have an old girlfriend who moved up there and damn if it didn’t make her a big shot up there—she got into government—and it changed her life. Vermont may be a good place for a New York City wolfman to retire into hibernation some cold future winter. The Hiber Nation.
Then on Amy Goodman’s morning prattling show old Ralph Nader and he’s bitchin’ like a cranky c-sucker was saying these Dumbocrats who took over the House in yesterday’s elections are blueblood Dumbos and Ralphie Boy says don’t look for much change—same old same old—and I tend to agree with Ralph, though he’s pissed that nobody asked him a damn thing this election—except Amy Goodman. Ralph says Nancy Pelosi, the new Speaker of the House, has no intentions of going after Bush with impeachment.
Ralph kind of hit old Uncle Joe Lieberman, who beat the upstart rich boy Dumbo, Neddy Lamont, right on the head. Said Joe’s self-importance is now ballooning to a point where he’s gonna pomp up and bull his way into the Dumbocrats’s china shop. Is he a Dumbocrat or an Indie, which would put him up G.W.’s ass. Soon Uncle Joe will see himself as a kingmaker in Congress, according to Ralph—you know, Joe may hold the deciding vote on all issues. He’ll be hard to take now. Dumbass Connecticut; but Connecticut is definitely controlled by all the corporations who make their cheap headquarters in cheapass Stamford while all the top big shots in NYC live in their gated mansion communities around Greenwich. It’s kinda turned into a Tory state.
Ralph is so cynical. He’s speaking of “character deficiencies” now—like Hillary unable to battle against third-party candidates and ending up refusing to debate anybody but the Repugnican candidate—saying Hillary’s drive for president is the main thing on her feeble mind’s agenda—the really big bucks for Hill, who you know loves money more that she does Slick Willie’s trouser trout—and as such, she’s going to miss a lot of Senate sessions, because, you see, Hillary ain’t no senator; she’s Slick Willie’s pissed-off bitch wife determined to show his showboat ass off. Can you imagine Hillary as President?
I can’t.
The vote was so slanted in some parts of this Yahoo country, like Arizona—God, what a warped state. The racists still control us; white racists. They are doing all they can to keep most poor people, minorities, etc. from being able to vote. Hell, from being able to work, except for shithouse cleaning and fetching them comforts. Such bullshit. You vote in Canada simply if you’re part of the census roles—no registration, no ID proof needed—you just go in and vote.
The Neo-Cons are still determined to turn this country into a National Socialist country; that’s right—that’s the socialism of Nazism—in it We the People become the servants of the rich industrialists, like Krupp in Germany in WWII—probably a buddy of Georgie Porgie’s grandfather and great-grandfather. If the Repugnicans had have swept this election, by January 1 this country would have definitely become a Nazi nation. I swear old Rummy would issue brown shirts to the army. [I see where Georgie Porgie has pulled his ass off old Rummy’s old bent nose, away from his thirsty lips and retired his old ass—how the hell old is Rummy? I say throw him in the dock with his old pal Saddam and let him hang by the neck with Sad-dam—remember how old Wimpy Pappy Bush pronounced his name? Sad-dam Hoosane.
The election was scary close in a lot of key elections—and I’m sure the weasel Repugnicans will demand recounts. So it’s not over yet. The Dumbocrats, like old Ralphie Boy said, are the bluebloods who have been feeding at the corporate hog trough the same as the Repugs since time began. Hillary spent 30 million bucks running theoretically unopposed. I get so pissed thinking about how that 30 million bucks could have helped a struggling community like New York City—instead, Hill baby just blew all that filthy money right back into the corporate pockets from which it came. Don’t expect any great popular measures from Hill. Like I say, I’d rather have Chelsea.
I see the white woman winking at Harold Ford paid off. The white racist sacked old Harold and left him tap dancing in the middle of Beale Street. Obama couldn’t even help him. I don’t know yet about Obama. He looks like he’s surprised how much press he gets—he doesn’t figure it out—he never says anything controversial—he’s UT maybe—but then I can’t judge that—I’m just going on white intuitions—I suppose some might say the same intuitions Ol’ Massuh had back in the plantation days. I say we’re still in the plantation days except now we’re all the slaves. All corporations are run like plantations, with the Massuhs in the big house in the upper floors and the Cap’ns right under them and the the foremen down in the fields, the cubicles in which most of the shit work has to be done—it has to be done cheap if the plantation is to make excess profits off its “cotton crops.” Capitalism is enslaving. Our corporations are trying to break us down; they’ve got plenty of slaves around the world willing to work for literally chicken feed. Screw us haughty Amurican workers. F us. We want too many rights and a decent salary and chances at promotions and 5-day work weeks and 7 hour days and long vacations in the summer—like the Euros—their industries are doing better than ours, though their executives aren’t topping our recordbreakers yet. But they will one day; except the climate is ruining us and China is ruining the world with its demand for meat and feed to feed that meat while it’s still on the hoof—this demand turning the Brazil rainforest into history and the ancient grasslands of Africa into the same extinction it will send Africa’s wildlife. The raping of all our most productive lands by China’s demand for steaks and salads and McDonald’s and automobiles will eventually spell D-O-O-M—Chaos is coming and you can tell ‘em thegrowlingwolf told you that.
I’ve settled down in my friend the cat’s trailer house and I’m watching a tape of Muddy Waters (McKinley Morganfield), the original Rollin’ Stone, by the way, a man who could rock and roll the Fab Four and the phony Rolling Stones right back into the Anglican church where they came from. Muddy’s the world to me; the world of making it through song through life through the good life of champagne and steak for breakfast and a fancy silk robe and high-priced slippers and a big new Cadillac sitting out in the driveway. Boy, that’s all I ever wanted, that and to be loved. “I love the way you walk when you pass me by….”
I’m away from the world out here in this cat’s trailer house. It’s filthy, too, which is OK with me; it is the desert, the distant spaces lost in the endless horizon—I’m resting in a high wind with sand blowin’ hard against the aluminum sides of the trailer house. Some ex-rockers are singing country western out in the backyard by the gazebo—yeah, the cat has built a damn gazebo out in his flat ass backyard, which is the same as his front yard or his side yard or his other side yard.
It’s paradise. I just slugged down a slug or two of rice wine the cat has. He fought the Japs in WWII, he’s an old dude man but tough as F-ing nails. He drinks rice wine, saki, because he says it reminds him of all the Japanese blood he saw while he was on Guadalcanal—and then he went over to Iwo Jima, but his story is better left to another post.
I’m laying back and taking it easy—hey, look at that, a La Rosa cigar—hmmm, smells delicious—what Marilyn Monroe said when she stood over the subway grate in the movie The Seven Year Itch, a wonderful movie, by the way, because of Tom Ewell and not Marilyn Monroe—what a drugstore cowgirl she was.
thegrowlingwolffor The Daily Growler
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