Before Jim Jeffords jumped ship, our sister progressive magazine, The Nation, recently had a great cover caricature of the orange-hued, chia-haired Strom Thurmond with an accompanying article “Strom Watch” about the makeup of the Senate on his demise. The article began with a few tortured, apologetic sentences on the unseemliness of the death watch. I ran the article through my home metal detector for any traces of irony and the needle barely shivered.
No mention of the unseemliness of the death of democracy or of the now necessary reliance on the Grim Reaper with his big Term Limits in the Sky instead of that old nutty “voting” to effect the makeup of the Senate. Keep an eye for an eye out for the continued, counter-balancing, character assassination of Senator Robert Torricelli.
But alas, Jim Jeffords beat the clock.
With this administration, which I have begun to think of more as murder-suicide pact, all bets are off on the seemliness scale. The sheer vulgarity of its intergalactic arrogance, under the guise of dress codes, trains running on time and father knows bestness has raised an equal and opposite reckless incivility in me. It’s my new faith and the fundament of my, fingers crossed, soon to be federally funded Church.
However, until we get those funds, and believe me, the paperwork is killer, I’ve got a great idea for a fundraiser. No mere Uno Homo Morto speculation for us! It’s The Big Dirt Nap Lottery!! Send a tax-deductible check made out to, “The Kate Clinton Enough Already with the Bispartisanshit Church” for ten dollars, more, if you really want us to pay attention, and put the following in order of their deaths: Dick Cheney, The Pope, Strom Thurmond, Jesse Helms, and now, for extra credit Timothy McVeigh.
Your contribution is tax deductible. If enough people participate, the returns will be grand and by the time we know the results, you are going to need the money, despite that big inverted Pyramid Scam, I mean, tax cut. I got a $2.16 rebate! They really are the party of change.
And because, message: we care, here are some tips, in no particular order, to help you in your particular order.
The Pope.
Although he recently starred in Greece, but who hasn’t at this point, [and we can’t wait to see him in The Vagina Monologues] and apologized for the Fourth Crusade, no word yet on the First through Third or Fifth through the current continuing anti-gay crusade. That 4th crusade was 800 years ago and although I am sleeping better because of that apology, the College of Cardinals just met in Rome and though they deny it, that’s like having Dr. Kevorkian pay you a hospital visit.
Dick Cheney
Wouldn’t you love to have his health care? He’s amazing! What energy crisis? Only thing he’s missing is the pink bunny suit and the little tin drum. He’s the Czar of Everything, which makes me suspect he was cloned during some hospitalization. Or the Disney Animatronics people paid a late night visit. Get out your push pins, it’s going to be a tough call.
Strom Thurmond
Willard Scott is chomping at the bit. That orange dye is laced with some Ponce de Leon anti-aging formula. Turns out he’s a big deterrence for more women in the Senate. If the grand prize at the end of your senatorial campaign, election and swearing-in is a big hug and slobbering kiss from that old state’s rights coot, you might reconsider and just run for the real power position, head of your local elections commission.
Jesse Helms
All bets are off. He’s got a new rig and maybe a new understanding of disability access in the Senate, but his batteries are way charged. He even went to Mexico. Oil of Ole! My grandma often said that there are some people just too mean to die.
Timothy McVeigh
Oops. So Hillary Clinton isn’t the only one who misplaces files. And, mind you, it’s just the FBI and just this once that evidence has turned up missing. John Ashcroft, who himself lost a senate seat to a dead man but won the Department of Justice, might have painted himself into a the death penalty box with his stay statements. But probably not. My home irony meter went off scale on this one. Timothy McVeigh, willing to die for what he perceives are FBI Waco errors, lives to die another day because of FBI “errors” in his case.
God forbid Yogi Berra dies. The man who as a boy dreamed of one day becoming Commissioner of Baseball , our Sport Utility President, seems to be using the presidency as a stepping stone to that field of dreams, will be devastated. The Comish made an executive order to bring the people’s sport to the White House back yard. But we know he cares more about T-bills than T-ball.
Keep those cards and letters coming in!