healthcare
WTF?
To quote VP Joe Biden, “This is a big f**in deal.” Lovable old Hairplugs Joe was of course referring to the successful passage of health insurance reform. I am referring to the shameful, dangerous behavior of the overly televised Teabaggers.
Stupid does as stupid is. In a recent poll, 25% said they believe Pres. Obama is the anti-christ. 40% think he’s a socialist. It’s not clear what percentage of that 40% know what a socialist is. 20% believe Pres. Obama is doing many of the things Hitler did. 38% percent think he wants to take away Americans’ right to own guns. A big percentage thinks he wants to take away their fishing licenses. And the majority of them get their feelings hurt if you call them stupid.
My galpal says do not call them stupid.
“But what if they are?” I ask.
She says it’s not stupidity, it’s class.
I think it’s racism tarted up as class.
Just look at the pictures. Watch CSPAN. The Party of Hell No is the White Party. The Other White Meat. When the Republiban had their Evita moment and held up “Kill the Bill” signs from an outdoor balcony, they goaded their goons on the ground into race-baiting behavior. House members had to walk a racist, homophobic gauntlet to vote on healthcare. After the vote, Representatives received death threats, rocks through their windows, faxed nooses. Sarah Palin, that i.e.d of demagoguery, put a map on her website with bull’s eyes over Representatives who voted for health care reform.
The only response to hate speech is more speech. Once again, silence equals death. Ask, tell, scream, yell. This is a big f**in deal.
In The Stuppak Pits
The Oscars made me sick. Not because my George Clooney did not win and attended with that faux galpal arm-candy instead of me. Not because Kathryn Bigelow the first woman to win best director was so ditzily girly in such an historic moment. But because the tribute to horror films was an unrelenting filmic homage to violence against women. The wink wink nudge nudge “it’s just a genre” disclaimer did not work for me, especially after news footage of the actual horrifics of femicide in Nigeria.
A week later and I’m still sick to my stomach. It could be the Boniva my doctor prescribed to aid in the absorption of calcium. I took it just before I read the studies someone finally got around to doing. The drug shilled everywhere by Sally Field, the Flying Nun for god’s sake, causes shattered femurs in women users. Images of Sally Field collapsing in a heap of bones on the set of Brothers and Sisters, taken out to the backlot and euthanized. “You like me, you really really . . . blam.” I’m not taking it anymore.
Nor am I taking the blame for healthcare reform fights over the vexing – for whom? – issue of abortion funding. If I have to spend one more dinner listening to progressive men talk about how difficult it is for them to decide yay or nay weh weh on health care, I’m going to forkstab their thighs. As a Vagina-American (it’s a pre-existing condition) I’m sick of Viagra-Americans not supporting women’s choice.
The Oscars showed graphic violence against women to an audience of 41.3 million. Big Pharma knocks the legs out from under women. Legislators make abortion funding an annoying deal-breaker. It’s the stuppak pits. And my Milk of Amnesia doesn’t work anymore.