I thought I'd start off my blog with a little nonsensical rap in the political vein. Welcome to the wobbly world of the Scatterbrainchild escaped from government testing facilities off the coast of Alaska... hibernating now in the depths of cyberspace.
Somewhere in the Aleutian Archipellago an eskimo named CrazyBiPolarBear pulled on his orca skin boots and fake rabbit fur mittens, purchased at a Mervyns close out sale in Wallatoo, Idaho and hopped on his "crotch popsicle" his kawasaki skewer-skiied snowmobile so he could go jetting off into the tundra to look for Todd Palin to inform him that his vision quest had come to an end. No matter what amount of euphoria-inducing-hallucinogens he smoked the fact would remain the same; cold and bare staring him in the face like a wine-cooler hangover: the dream of executive complacency had come to a bitter end. He would not be the Jeremiah Johnson he had so desperately dreamed of posing to be, the sidelined bearded hero, maybe he could have even been a hockey coach, the VP's bitch on ice; morning show reveries and discussions with the Christian Science Monitor with his gun-slingin' wild woman bald spread-eagled, arms wide open in a Cesarean grapple at the helm of the senate to paraphrase her congressional misunderstanding. Was it the unified voice of a re-liberated America that finally brought the change so many of us all so desperately hoped for. You can't blame it all on the scariness of the McCain-Palin ticket however, 8 years of Bush has pushed us to this choice. The agony of the IQ-challenged president stammering through press conferences followed by a translucent pile of goblegook and double-talk revolving on rehearsed questions taken by what seems like the bi-monthly press secretary position, ephemeral and ever-changing, standing with a shit-eating grin and a Kenneth Cole suit to add interpretive non-conclusive jargon, specious cover-up stories and interpretive and contradictory statements that mask and sugarcoat the policies of a flawed administration.
What faces our majestic hero, if Bush was the Christ-caped-crusader than Obama is surely the man of Steel with a black sarong instead of red undies, what faces the black knight who so valiantly rode in on the resurrected race horse of his party that 4 years ago got shot because of a doping I mean voting scandal and a horse named shrub. In the upcoming years our afroed, b-ball-bouncing prez is going to face challenges that go beyond the half-court buzzer beater (after you spun in a circle ten times cause the pom-poms were waving, No! Those days are over! put down the baton George...) Of course he will confront issues that transcend the black and the white, the red and the blue somewhere in all the shades of gray in between that complete the visual spectrum. America has voted, heaven has opened and its raining cool November rain from the ballot boxes, I look at the spectral sky, we've reentered the blue period so to speak the finger painters are almost on time out and someone like Picasso is gonna paint again.
What faces our majestic hero, if Bush was the Christ-caped-crusader than Obama is surely the man of Steel with a black sarong instead of red undies, what faces the black knight who so valiantly rode in on the resurrected race horse of his party that 4 years ago got shot because of a doping I mean voting scandal and a horse named shrub. In the upcoming years our afroed, b-ball-bouncing prez is going to face challenges that go beyond the half-court buzzer beater (after you spun in a circle ten times cause the pom-poms were waving, No! Those days are over! put down the baton George...) Of course he will confront issues that transcend the black and the white, the red and the blue somewhere in all the shades of gray in between that complete the visual spectrum. America has voted, heaven has opened and its raining cool November rain from the ballot boxes, I look at the spectral sky, we've reentered the blue period so to speak the finger painters are almost on time out and someone like Picasso is gonna paint again.
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