HALF?!? Did you say HALF?!?

Apropos of nothing other than our collective future: yesterday I heard a couple of startling numbers. 

I was catching up on listening to The NPR Politics Podcast and they ran an episode called “How Democratic is American Democracy?” and of course we all know that our system of government, designed 250 years ago by slave owners, is not quite effective at governing a nation that is now 50 states big and has 330 million people living in it.

On the podcast they broke down what the actual force and effect of that is in a couple of ways that maybe I had just never thought of before, here are the ones that really made me go, “Are you kidding me?” and skip back about 30 seconds:

• Half of the US population lives in 9 states.

• 70% of the population is represented by 30 Senators

• 30% of the population is represented by 70 Senators

• Given the population distribution in the US and the way that people tend to vote in geographic groups, the Republican Party represents acreage, not people.

We all knew that something like this was true, but I had simply never heard it broken down into such simple and stark numbers before. It is TERRIFYING. This is not the system that we believe it to be. This is not the system we learned about in school. I mean … it IS the same system, but it does not actually function the way that we were told it was supposed to.

The episode was really interesting and also discomforting and I would encourage anyone to go and listen to it:

How Democratic is-American Democracy?

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WATCH THIS SPACE

 I’ve been a bad blogger the last few years, but look, I’ve been very busy. At least I shared photos! But then I was heartbroken to discover that somehow this little blog has become unlinked from the Instagram account I was using to update it. That’s why my last several years of posts are all just ghost posts now. I’m trying to figure out how to fix it, but I am a bad blogger, not a web-internaught, so - you know - this process is going to be terrible.

In the meantime, just know to watch this space, because we’re living through a pandemic and possibly the last democratic election America will ever get to have. It seems like someone should be writing about all this shit as it happens. And not on your social media, which is so ephemeral and combative that it doesn’t even ever feel like anything but anger bubblegum. 

In the weeks and months to come, I’ll be here. I’m not promising to be helpful or useful or enlightening or - let’s be honest - even interesting, but I’ll be here. And maybe I’ll even figure out where the hell all my pictures went. It’s like my past has disappeared. I’m basically the boringest version of Jason Bourne.

Watch this space.

P.S. Have you listened to Fiona Apple’s latest album. You outta.

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The Debate that Awoke My Inner Poet.

Surely it is a sign of our times that the single best phrase I have seen or heard or read in a very long time appeared in the zeitgeist last night:

“Uncle Dick in the deer stand”

Certainly this is the “cellar door” of our times. I eagerly await both the ironic t-shirts and the only semi-ironic small town all-male thrash bands.

(source)

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An Old Pearl.

I have had a little but stuck in my brain all week. Something stuck in my craw. I had not been able to put my finger on it. It was like when you have a word on the tip of your tongue, but it never seems to come. I have had an idea, or a memory down there in the folds of my brains, like a little pearl down in the gray pink meat of an oyster, but I just couldn't quite figure out what it was.


Well I just realized what it was. JUST NOW! this is literally happening in real time!


So what was stuck in my craw? It was a fake short play I wrote in 2011!!!


It is reposted below.


The more things change, the more they stay the same

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Free RNC Ad Idea!

President Obama said that Hitler was bad ...

But look at this beautiful autobahn …

And all these happy children …

Why does Obama hate roads and happy children ...

This November, remember to vote Republican.

Because Hitler had some good ideas.

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Wish You Were Here.

Today I was listening to an interview with the Ukrainian writer Andre Kirchoff who has been speaking out against Russian aggression and he mentioned that he has started receiving “hate postcards”. I had never heard this term before. Getting hate mail isn’t inherently funny, but getting hate mail from people who don’t care enough to pop for the cost of an envelope has got to be a strange experience. And who are these people? Who is the person who can distill all of their hate down to just that small space on half of the back of a postcard? That takes some skill, because there is SO MUCH hate that the person is compelled to give it voice, but doesn’t have enough to say to use a full sheet of paper. I mean, really?!

I also have a follow-up question: What sort of postcard does one send when one is sending a “hate postcard”? Is it like, “Greetings from Donetsk! Wish you were here!” but then on back it’s all like, “I hate you and please die.”

Anyway, I think I am going to start sending these now. It seems like both a feasible and economical way to personally reach out to people who need a stern - if concise - talking to.

Please somebody warn all of the Republicans in Congress.

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A Republican Poem.

A Republican Poem

by james bezerra

Gun control?!

Bah humbug I say to any control governmental!

 It is not their business what I do with my arsenal!

What we really need around here

is some fun control!

Look over there!

At that woman who thinks it’s not my business

what she does with her uterus!

Unlike with guns, there’s a moral imperative

to regulate all issues reproductive.

And don’t even get me started on them gays.

How should we handle them? I can think of lots of ways.

Like making them get a special tattoo or stamp

and then reeducating them in some kinda camp.

See how good my ideas are!

I hate gun control, but love gay control and uterus control.

But don’t call my beliefs hypocritical

or I might just go postal.

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Poetic Justice.

Did you see the news today about how Mitt Romney got 47% of the popular vote?

That’s funny, right?

And I’m not even making it up! The Atlantic Wire said so. 

Also, it really takes that long to figure out the popular vote?

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Volcano.

I hate to run a blog that just reposts random crap that can be found elsewhere, but my rule has always been that when it is something that means something to me, then I can repost it here. Sort of like the way Clint Eastwood endorsed Mitt Romney today; sure it was both a poorly thought-out decision and a poorly timed one (who will give half a shit three months from now what Clint thought?), but there is some actual fiber of character involved and that should be noted, even if it isn’t worth bothering to respect.

Wow. Look how I digressed there! Point is, this below is one of the best songs that ever was or will be and my Pandora (with whom I have a very imtimate relationship) just played it for me, and so I wanted to put it out there for you. I can’t think of another song that is both this sexy and this sad all at once.

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Commies.

I came across this today:

When I feed the hungry, they call me a saint. When I ask why people are hungry, the call me a communist.

 Helder Camara, Archbishop of Olinda (1909-1999) 



Sing it brother.
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Radiator.

Radiator


by james bezerra



Deep down there’s a part of me

which really misses Dick Cheney.

Dick was like Darth Vader!

Whereas this fellow Romney

is about as interesting as a non-functioning radiator.

 
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Wisconsin.

Wisconsin


by james bezerra



Scott Walker won his recall election

which means it is a fact now proven

that Wisconsin should be fired from the Union.

 
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He’s Got the Look.

He’s Got the Look.


by james bezerra



There is real irony

in the fact Mitt Romney

looks like a facsimile

of every generic President from every generic action movie.



Maybe – after he loses - Romney should

move on out to Hollywood!



He would be every crappy director’s first call

when they need someone who looks Presidential.

 
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Literally.

Hey, I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be weird if – when your band chooses a name – you all suddenly adopt the physical traits implied by the name? That would be strange, right?

All the members of Radiohead instantly develop radios for heads! And then conversations like this one might ensue:

INT. Two women are waiting in an airport security line.

WOMAN 1: Hey look over there! See those guys getting felt up by the TSA? Those are the members of Radiohead!

WOMAN 2: Are you sure? How do you know?

WOMAN 1: Because they have fricken’ radios for heads … come on, keep up. Seriously.


Just think of all the fun and chaos!

The Shins? Just giant man-sized shins with mouths. The Rolling Stones? You guessed it … giant stones, which roll (though now days they don’t roll so much as get rolled around by their live-in nurse maids). The Pixies? Yep, they turn into pixies (How funny would it be to watch Frank Black sing “Wave of Mutilation” when he’s four inches tall and leaking magical dust on everything?).

Although, the obvious and inevitable result of living in a world where such transformations are possible based on the name of the band you’re in would be that every single group of high school dudes who form a band will call their band “Really Big Dicks”.

Although it would always be possible that the Universe might slake a terrible vengeance down upon them and instead of increasing the size of their genitals it might just choose to turn them into BMW-driving Republicans (Hahahahahahaha! Sometimes I find myself hilarious … somebody has to.)

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Blame It on Your Hair (Or Lack of Functioning Personality).

Blame It on Your Hair (Or Lack of Functioning Personality)
by james bezerra

Hey Mitt Romney!
It seems to me
that no matter what you do
Republicans just don’t like you!

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Blogger's Guilt.

Sometimes I feel the odd tickle of blogger’s guilt when I check my ‘stats’ on Blogspot (I don’t do it often, but basically you can see your traffic and what particular posts got looked at today or this week or this month, etc). Well a lot of my posts here are nonsensical – no, it’s true! – and I know this and you know this, but today alone two different people ended up looking at a post I wrote like 6 months ago about how I had a dream that I was hiking with Nancy Reagan. And you just KNOW that both of those people left this blog shaking their heads and asking themselves, “What in the holy hell was THAT about?”

Also today five people have read a short play that I wrote about Donald Trump and Sarah Palin and Donald Trump’s hair all having lunch together.

And two poor souls (certainly accidentally) ended up looking at a post I once wrote about how the yellow submarine that the Beatle’s sang of would be just terrible for inserting Navy SEALs.

So, on behalf of all of the editors here at Standard Kink, I would just like to offer a hearty apology to anyone who has innocently stumbled onto this blog while looking for biographical information about Nancy Reagan or Donald Trump’s hair.

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Schadenfreude 2012.

Schadenfreude 2012
by james bezerra

Could the Republican primary
possibly be more funny?!
I truly think not
because in it you’ve got
a hypocritical brut
who goes by the name of Newt;
thrice divorced and a known adulterer
who believes he was sent to planet Earth to be our leader!

Then there’s a Christian Conservative
call Santorum, who wants to give
gays the right – not to marry –
but just to burn in a Hell all brimstone and fiery.

And be sure not to forget
about good old reliable Mitt,
who simply and sadly doesn’t seem to get
that Republicans just don’t like him
no matter how much he tries and tries to please them!

Then of course there’s always Ron Paul,
who has the temerity and gall
to actually say what he believes
even if it upsets his constituents and colleagues.
I would maybe even vote for the cranky old guy
if I could be convinced he’s not high.

But really, what more
could a guy like me ask for
than to watch people I so despise
so tirelessly gouge out each other’s eyes?

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Google Santorum.

So you’re super cool and hip and with it and all internet and pop-culture savvy, so I’m sure you already knew about this, but I just found out about it.

Here is an article about it:

Santorum can't shake a Savage 'redefinition'

Or you could click THIS LINK (unless you're my Mother. Mom, DO NOT click the link!)



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A Farewell from Herman Cain.

From the always delightful Borowitz Report.




A Farewell from Herman Cain

My Final Thoughts

Dear Friend,

And when I say “friend,” I mean it in the normal way, not “someone I’ve been sleeping with for 13 years.” Unless, of course, I have been sleeping with you for 13 years. In that case, I do mean it that way.

It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to end my inspirational quest for the White House. After much reassessing and reconsidering, I have decided to spend more time being screamed at by my wife. And by “more time,” I mean 24 hours a day, stopping only for bathroom breaks.

But before I go, let me share with you my final thoughts on my campaign. After months of crisscrossing this great land of ours and participating in over three hundred televised debates, I am being disqualified because of an extramarital affair. And that raises the following question: are you fucking kidding me?

I mean, let’s get real. I never heard of Libya. I didn’t know whether that CNN dude’s name was Wolf or Blitz. And my only training for running the #1 nation in the world was running its #8 pizza chain. Yet none of that, I repeat, none of that disqualified me. In fact, I was the front-fucking-runner, as long as I kept my 9-9-9 in my pants. (I have no idea what I meant by that -- I just like saying 9-9-9.)

But here’s the part that really kills me. You’re kicking me to the curb because I was messing around, and instead you’re going with… Newt Gingrich? I repeat: are you fucking kidding me? Oh, I know what you’re saying: you love Newt because he’s an “intellectual.” Well, Newt Gingrich is the intellectual of the Republican field the way Moe was the intellectual of the Stooges.

And that leads me to my final point: you disgust me, America. Right now if I had my way, I’d up and move to another country. I really, truly would. Only I don’t know where any of them are, and my wife won’t let me leave the house.

Goodbye forever,

Herman



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(Thanks to NYDana for sending this my way!)
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Watch! Awesome!

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