Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

December 29, 2015

Please don’t deliver the news. Ever.

Filed under: General — Vadasmaker @ 6:21 pm

I decided that if I couldn’t get my news from Jon Stewart anymore, I’d just have to do without. Since the day he abandoned me, I’ve done my best avoid all information deemed “newsworthy,” but things keep leaking through the cracks, things I don’t want to know but once I do know I can’t unknow. And every last bit of information that seeps in pisses me off. It’s like my brain is a magnet for things that infuriate me. To wit:

Officer Jason Van Dyke was released on bail in Chicago, despite a video that clearly shows him opening fire on 17-year-old Laquan McDonald within six seconds of arrival on the scene and continuing to fire until his gun was empty. He was reloading when another officer stopped him. McDonald was walking away from police at the time he was shot. Know why the judge released Van Dyke on bail? Because Van Dyke is “innocent until proven guilty.” That may be, but if you can’t spread that load of horse shit evenly across races, it ought to not be a get out of jail pass. And yes, I know that sentence sucked. You have my permission to rewrite it.

 

When 18-year-old Ethan Couch missed a mandatory meeting with his probation officer a couple of months ago, officials discovered he and his mother had disappeared. Two years ago, Couch and seven friends got in his fancy red pickup, drunk, and plowed into a bunch of pedestrians. Between his passengers and the pedestrians, he killed four and injured 10, one of whom is still hospitalized with severe brain damage. He was convicted of four counts of manslaughter and given 10 years’ probation. His defense? “Affluenza.” Seriously. His attorneys say he was a victim of his parents’ wealth and privilege, and since he had been taught that those two things shielded one from consequences, he really couldn’t be held completely responsible. Bull. Shit.

 

Oklahomans spent the better part December protesting the installation of a Festivus Pole in Oklahoma City. Why?

First, how dare its promoters wrap it in rainbow crepe paper? Everybody knows the rainbow is the exclusive property of fundamentalist Christians. God gave it to them in exchange for having drowned most of the world about a jillion years ago. I don’t know about you, but I would’ve held out for a blood moon or something. Seriously. A rainbow? You can find one of those in a puddle of oil out in the driveway.

Second, the good people of Oklahoma simply cannot abide the disco ball on top of the Festivus Pole. Apparently, it’s a huge part of the destruction homosexuals are secretly planning—a big, round, mirrored bullet on the gay agenda, right between destroying the institution of marriage and turning everybody gay. Also, God hates disco. Anybody who doesn’t hate disco, and by extension, its balls, hates God. Duh.

 

Third, any dumbass can see that the Festivus Pole is all part of the War on Christmas. Nobody wants us to celebrate the birth of Jesus, which, as everyone knows, falls on December 25. Or, according to various documents, March 28, November 18, or September 11. Google it if you don’t believe me. While you’re there you might study up on the pagan origins of Christmas.

 

What I want to know is why a giant wooden nutcracker is okay and a sleigh is okay and a snowman wearing a hat and a scarf and no pants is okay but a Festivus Pole with a disco ball is crossing some sacred line. I mean, seriously? Who made that decision? Why wasn’t I informed?

This last thing is something I heard on the local “fair and balanced” radio station when I was trying to find the weather. I happened to tune in in the middle of a fairly lengthy advertisement from an area glass replacement company. It consisted of a conversation between two men, one with some sort of fake European accent, and the other just a good old boy. A rough paraphrase of the message was that people with “traditional” values aren’t even allowed to say “Merry Christmas” any more, and that all the merchants insist on “Happy Holidays” and other disturbing greetings. Clearly, one man told the other, these merchants’ wanton disregard for what is right means they want our money but they don’t want to accept “our” faith. Because as you well know, there is only one true faith.

All I wanted was the weather. From now on, I’ll be like Les Nessman on WKRP in Cincinnati and rely on I-Witness Weather. When I want to know, I’ll look out the window and witness the weather.

I have made myself ill just talking about all the hopeless idiocy of the world. I’m either going to go throw up or binge watch Parks and Recreation. Since I haven’t thrown up since 1982, my money is on an afternoon of me and all the funny folks in Pawnee, Indiana.

 

 

 

 

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1 Comment »

  1. DITTO! Love you, Carol! I miss writing, too , and now that Hap has passed away, I may be able to write again. He had pnacreatic cncer and died New Year’s Eve.

    Like

    Comment by pony tale girl — January 4, 2016 @ 1:08 pm | Reply


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