If Being Liberal Means…

Here in Texas, as well as in other predominantly conservative regions of the United States, the term “liberal” is equal to demonic.  Personally, I consider myself a political and social moderate – which, to most conservatives – still means liberal.  Anything to the slightest left of the small-minded rhetoric of right-wing, Judeo-Christian ideology is blasphemously liberal.  But, as you surely know by now, I deplore being placed in boxes to suit other people’s needs and desires.  Those who have dared to always end up with a rectal thermometer-style rebuke from me.  Their rules don’t apply to me.

But, for the past 30 years, liberals have allowed themselves to be defined by the opposition.  They’ve hidden their true sentiments about politics and social order within the lockboxes of their minds.  Outspoken liberals have been relegated to the coastal U.S. and urban America.  Thus, they are viewed as elitists and globalists; cretins who dismiss the notion of “American exceptionalism” (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean).

In truth, liberal means educated and open-minded; compassionate and understanding.  I’m steadfast in my own outlook and opinions.  Overall, I’m just left of the center, which – again – means extremist, bleeding-heart, bed-wetting liberal to the right-wingers.  They can call me whatever name they wish, if it makes them feel empowered in their MINI Cooper of a mind.  I’ve endured worst name-calling grade school.

But, if being liberal means…

  • I believe true freedom begins with free speech and the right to vote and not with a gun.
  • I believe the United States was founded on religious freedom and separation of church and state and not Judeo-Christian beliefs.
  • I don’t believe White males have all the answers.
  • Europe is not the foundation of civilization.
  • I read more than the Christian Bible and a TV guide.
  • Men and women possess different attributes, but are still equal
  • The human race is really the only race on Earth.
  • There is life beyond this planet.
  • Industrial enterprises don’t have the right to profitably pollute the environment.
  • Queer people aren’t diabolically dangerous.

…then you can call me a liberal.  I call myself a human being with my own thoughts and opinions.  And I don’t have to run any of these by other folks, just to get their approval.

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Steamed

As competition for the never-ending Darwin Awards heats up, we have a new entrant from Canada.  An unidentified 62-year-old woman apparently decided to try the new trend of “vaginal steaming”; whereupon the participant sits over a steaming-hot bowl of water mixed with herbs to provide intense thermal pelvic cleaning for the female of our species.  I can only assume this new-age ritual is meant to expunge the feminine soul of various and sundry evils: bacteria, unhealthy enzymes and memories of yoga gone wrong.  But gynecologists warn that “v-steaming” – their term, not mine – is not necessarily healthy and actually is potentially dangerous.

“The vagina contains good bacteria, which are there to protect it,” says Dr. Vanessa Mackay, a spokesperson for the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists in the United Kingdom.

Moreover, the victim in this case ended up at a local emergency room with second-degree burns to her cervix and vaginal membranes, according to a report from the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of Calgary.  No word on if she drove herself there, or had to be airlifted.  The report also indicates this is the first documented incident of burns incurred by v-steaming.

And you, dear readers, thought only men did stupid shit to their nether regions!  Either way, this gives new meaning to the term “burning bush”.

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Now Ear This!

The one curious thing about friendships is that you never know where they’re going to go.  Really good friends will understand and maybe even empathize with your mood swings.  Of course, that term – “really good” – is always subjective.

Several years ago I got into a heated argument with a so-called friend.  I can’t remember what it was about, but I so mad I wanted to rip his ears off and stick them up his ass, just so he could hear me beat the shit out of him!

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Screaming Match

Curators at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, Georgia have developed a new app called “Heartmatch” where visitors can learn what historical painting best represents them.  I thought, what the hell; it looks like good fun.  So, I tried it and got this:

Now I know why I didn’t get my first computer until May of 2000 and my first cell phone until October of 2001.  BECAUSE ME AND TECHNOLOGY NEVER HAVE BEEN SYMBIOTIC!

I guess I’ll just resort to finding my “heart match” the old-fashioned way: bars, truck stops and porn videos.

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Worst Quote of the Week – August 16, 2019

“What if we went back through all the family trees and just pulled those people out that were products of rape and incest?  Would there be any population of the world left if we did that?  Considering all the wars and all the rapes and pillages taken place and whatever happened to culture after society?  I know I can’t certify that I’m not a part of a product of that.”

– U.S. Congressman Steve King at the Westside Conservative Club in Urbandale, Iowa, on August 14; defending his position of not allowing exceptions for rape and incest in anti-abortion legislation he tried to pass in Congress.

This is what happens when people attend a family reunion to meet their ideal mate.

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Best Quote of the Week – August 16, 2019

“We’re open for business, not for sale.”

– Ane Lone Bagger, Foreign Minister of Greenland, in a terse, but well-worded response to Pseudo-President Donald Trump’s suggestion the U.S. purchase the Danish island territory.

Image courtesy Astalor/Getty Images – Rodebay, Greenland.

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Stiff Competition

Another candidate for the Darwin Awards has surfaced in Berlin.  Danny Polaris thought he’d make a recent night out one he wouldn’t forget.  So took a Viagra and, after an evening of partying, went home with a nurse he met out at some club (I suspect).  There, his new “friend” decided to up the excitement and inject Danny’s penis with some kind of still-unknown “stimulant”.  Polaris says he felt fine – until a few days later when he realized he’d developed a painful condition called priapism.  This is one of the unspoken medical anomalies that urologists and the Roman Catholic Church have warned men about for years.

As of August 11, Polaris is still in the hospital, still applying ice packs to his genitalia, reading the Bible, listening to tapes of old women talking about the “not so fresh feeling” and avoiding the Cartoon Network.  No relief appears in sight.  He seems to have no shame in going public with his ordeal and has even detailed his trauma on Instagram.  Friends have also set up a page on the Go Fund Me network to help pay for his treatment and rehabilitation.  I really don’t want to know what “rehabilitation” would mean in this case.

All I can say now is just don’t ask him what’s up!

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We Are Lesion!

I had a doctor’s appointment the first of August to have some blood drawn for various tests, such as if I’m still alive and if the back pain I’ve been experiencing for more than 30 years is actually my parasitic twin wanting out of my ass.  I asked him about what I thought was a mole on my upper back.  Turns out it was a wart!  In fact, I had 2 of them!  I told him he could just snip them off and plaster a bandage over them, but he selected to freeze them off.  Either way, sometimes I love it, when it hurts!

I know my body and mind have been trying to break free and lead lives of their own.  And, like luggage and herpes, I’m just stuck with the fuckers forever.  But I was totally surprised this time.  Warts?!  Last time I had warts, at least dinner and drinks came first!

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Booth Blooms

Well, at long last, someone has found a good use for old phone booths*. Botanical designer Lewis Miller ambushed the streets of New York City recently to adorn an otherwise ordinary corner in swaths of floral color and energy.  A few years ago Miller transformed the notoriously banal empty garbage cans into vases of sumptuous flowers.  In this most recent endeavor to make a gritty urban area appear palatable – a project he dubs “Flower Flash” – Miller and his crew filled a Manhattan telephone booth with a plethora of flowers and greenery.

“What initially began as a Lewis Miller design experiment to reinvigorate and reconnect us to our craft, turned into a beautiful shared experience in a city of millions,” the group stated.  The “reactions to our flower flashes emphasizes the basic goodness in all people and prioritizes compassion”.

The results are more than a little impressive, and I feel we need more of Lewis Miller’s works in our increasingly crowded and convoluted world.

*To the under-30 crowd, phone booths are tall glass structures where people would have to make phone calls if they weren’t at home, at work or in jail.  You’d put a quarter into a little slot towards the bottom of the actual phone; wipe the receiver as best you could so you wouldn’t catch germs like herpes or gingivitis; and press little buttons on said phone to make the call.

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Remind Them of This

As the 2020 elections approach – almost too quickly – here in the U.S., I’m almost amused at the thought of who’s going to grab the Democratic presidential nomination and how they will combat (faux) President Donald Trump.  Key word here – almost.  A lifetime of watching political battles rage across the media spectrum and nearly three decades of making every effort I could to register my own vote, along with discussing a variety of issues with family, friends, coworkers, gym partners and strangers, have perhaps left me cynical and jaded.  I feel that usually happens once you get past the half-century mark in birthdays.  Not only is my body now wanting to lead a life of its own, so is my mind.  Can I get a new persona?

But, despite the anguish and frustration, I realized something crucial a while back.  Every election cycle candidates for whatever office rushes out to visit potential constituents; shaking hands, kissing babies (born or unborn), eating virtually everything that approaches their lips, and – of course – dishing out a cadre of promises.  Then, as often happens, they get into that designated office and find out it just doesn’t work out that simply.  So they disappoint us and shove their spokespeople and p.r. reps before our faces to explain why things didn’t go as planned.  So, what’s new this year?

Nothing, really.  Yet, I know THEY seek our votes for a certain high-profile position and – if elected – they will get paid with OUR tax dollars.  Ultimately, THEY work for US.  We DON’T work for them.  WE employ them, in fact, based upon their qualifications for the job (in theory), and THEY are assigned specific duties, according to that particular role.  These are not full-time, permanent roles for them; they are CONTRACT jobs.  In other words, they are nothing more than glorified TEMP WORKERS.

Whether it’s the U.S. presidency, a governorship, a judgeship or a spot on a local school board, they present themselves to us as job candidates and ask to be hired.  WE, the People, analyze their skills and experience and make our decisions afterwards.  We are charged with the complex responsibility of assessing their viability for the job and choosing whether to grant them that role.  In all cases, the majority rules; regardless, WE, the People, are essentially their employers.  Again, the salaries for those positions comes out of our tax dollars.

They are contracted out for an X period of time, and when that term is up – if they’ve chosen to continue – WE, the People, review their job performance and decide if we want to renew their contract.  We look at what they’ve done and how they’ve handles themselves during their tenure.  Both work performance and attitude matter equally.  As with the initial hiring process, the majority rules.  So, while some of us may be thrilled to see the official re-hired, many among us aren’t.  Sadly, that’s just how it is.

These election events are always difficult and frustrating.  It’s not that they can be difficult and frustrating; they ARE difficult and frustrating!  Things don’t always turn out clearly.  Evidence: the 2016 U.S. elections.

And no official in their right mind (and understand many of them aren’t from the very beginning) will take their contract renewal for granted.  Evidence: the 2018 Senate race here in Texas.  Republican Junior Senator Ted Cruz almost lost to Democratic opponent Beto O’Rourke.  Cruz had coasted easily to his 2012 maiden run and perhaps assumed last year’s contest would be equally undramatic.  As I always love to see happen to such arrogance, Cruz assumed wrong and won by literally a handful of votes.

It is such an unpleasant task to sort through the chaos and the rhetoric and determine who is best equipped for that designated position.  But it is what We, the People, have to do to keep our society functioning properly and soundly.  Democracy is one thing that can’t be automated.

Just remember, my friends, the people who run for office are asking for our votes.  That simply means THEY work for US.  We, the People, hire them and we can fire them.  They all have to remember that.  But so do we.

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