They’ve Got the Money Honey, We’ve Got the Time

The Powers That Be are clearly afraid of the power of the unwashed masses. So afraid that NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg is trying to chase the OWS demonstrators from Liberty Park on the pretext of “cleaning up the public space.”

Mr. Mayor Moneybags says the demonstrators are free to return once the park is sanitized, but not with their tents or sleeping bags. Or anything else that would enable them to become the permanent presence that they have vowed to be in their fight to restore fairness to a corrupt economic system.

Thankfully, the 99% are more astute than the Tea Party Nation, and aren’t buying the lies perpetuated by evildoers like Barack Obama, John Boehner, Wiliam Daley, Eric Cantor, Mitch McConnell, Grover Norquist, Tim Geithner, Bill Clinton, Clarence Thomas, Alan Greenspan, Ben Bernanke, Dick Cheney, Joe Lieberman, Sean Hannity, David Koch, Wolf Blitzer, Rupert Murdoch, Dianne Feinstein, Hillary Clinton, Robert Rubin, Jeffery Immelt, Darrell Issa, or Rahm Emmanuel.

(I omitted Michelle Bachmann, Herman Cain, Sarah Palin, Rick Perry, Newt Gingrich and Rick Santorum because they just don’t friggin’ matter.)

But the above-mentioned prevaricators and manipulators from both parties are  conspirators against us, you and me, the hard-working middle-class that’s just trying to hang onto a job, put a kid through college without lifelong indebtedness, meet a mortgage payment, save a little for retirement, and go out to eat once in awhile, if only for a $2 biscuits and gravy breakfast at our neighborhood Denny’s on a Saturday morning.

We once had big dreams and major aspirations. Now too many of us just feel lucky to know we’ll eat tomorrow and sleep in our bed for another night.

This is NOT the America I grew up in. So fellow travelers, please continue to Occupy Wall Street if you can physically be there, and support the movement financially if you can’t.

The 1% may have hoarded all the money, but you can’t hoard time. And time is something we have in abundance now that the bastards have outsourced our jobs.

Propagandists in RightWing Land have been parodying Theodor Geisel and recently generated an oh-so-clever-knock-off that made its way around Dubya’s Internets.

They called it “DR. SEUSS 2011” and it goes like this:

“I do not like this Uncle Sam, I do not like his health care scam.
 I do not like these dirty crooks, or how they lie and cook the books.
 I do not like when Congress steals, I do not like their secret deals.
 I do not like ex-speaker Nan, I do not like their 'YES, We Can.'
I do not like this spending spree, I'm smart, I know that nothing's free.
I do not like their smug replies when I complain about their lies.
 I do not like this kind of HOPE, I do not like it...nope, nope, nope!”

I think I’m more poetic than the paid propagandist think tanks that cranked out this crap, so here goes:

"You do not know your Uncle Sam nor do you recognize the scam
Perpetuated by Faux News to warp the Middle Class’s views
Until they are so Right they’re Wrong. Will someone please bring out the Gong?
Let’s get these stooges off the stage and train a fire hose on their rage.
I do not like the stupid Right whose lies have put us in this plight.
If Clarence Thomas stays in power this is indeed our darkest hour.
We must stand up for what is just or face an empire going bust."

And the Winner Is....

Somewhere in eternity, Osama bin Laden is fondling his 72nd virgin and cackling at the stupidity of his nemesis, the USA. Taking a long drag on his hookah, he reflects on how easy it was to defeat the Infidel.

Everything has gone his way, from the original attention-grabbing fireworks display in Lower Manhattan to the budget-breaking (and needless) wars the US chose to wage in Iraq and Afghanistan.

What a clever devil, that OBL. If you have no hope of defeating a country that shells out 40 times the rest of the world on “defense” by outspending them on weaponry or standing armies, just taunt them into spending even more, until they are well on their way to financial Armageddon. It worked like a charm with the old USSR.

As an added bonus, ignite a worldwide firestorm by provoking the US to focus its attacks on Islamic countries, proving to the world that Americans are anti-Muslim. Hoohah! Mission Accomplished.

Golly gee, that was easy. Dubya sure took the bait like we knew he would, but now even Obama is biting.

But wait: It gets better! Who would have imagined that the US would voluntarily decimate its already fragile economy with a political food fight over a contrived crisis called the “debt ceiling limit,” which has been routinely passed under administrations led by both parties.

If I had planned it myself, says OBL, I couldn’t have written a better script to cripple the US and its oligarchs.

Victory is mine. Praise Allah.

Goodbye Gizbourne, Hello Harpo

I’ve been a Cat Lady most of my life.

It began when I was eight, and took home a calico that I named Candy from my grandmother’s farm. It was either adopt her, or Grandpa would drown her, like German farmers did in those days if the barn cats outnumbered the barn rats.

That ended badly. My family went away for a week, unaware that Candy was with child. We returned to a horrible stench. Candy and her litter of eight were deceased in our basement crawl space.

I still have memories of my father donning a gas mask and going in to retrieve the carcasses. That pretty much ended his willingness to allow any pets in our household, but somehow, a few years later, I conned Dad into letting me adopt a little terrier mutt that I named Bubbles.

I chose her from the litter, and named her, but my youngest brother immediately stole her from me in a fair and square transaction. He was the better doggie parent in those days. Bubbles enriched our lives, but died prematurely of a heart disorder.

Several years later, when I was in college and living with my parents, I bought a bassett hound that I named Herschel. I took Herschel with me to grad school at Mizzou, but he was so undisciplined (my fault I now know) and got me into so much trouble, I pretty much wrote off ever having a dog again.

So when I got my master’s degree in journalism, and took my first job at a newspaper in Upstate New York, I chose cats again as my companions.

Delilah was the first. She was special, because she delivered kittens in my apartment bathroom, eating two that were stillborn, and I witnessed it all. I sneaked her into a no pets allowed apartment building in Ithaca when I married John a year later, and when we were unexpectedly transferred to Guam, we found Delilah a good home on a nearby farm.

We had not lived on Guam long when we adopted a Siamese kitten that our neighbor found abandoned by the side of the road while jogging. She became Sadie the Retriever Cat.

Sadie was really cool. We crumpled paper into balls, threw them onto the floor, and she fetched. She absolutely sold me on cats. Sadly, I had to say goodbye to Sadie when we left Guam in 1983. I left her with a friend, but I’m told Sadie pined for us and ran away from her new home, never to be seen again.

We moved to Virginia where we welcomed Muffy, Tiger, Suds, Nottigan, and, eventually, Gizbourne, the best cat that ever adopted me.

Gizbo was with us for 16 years, offering unconditional love much as a dog does, for he was, after all, my Puppy Cat. I witnessed his death on a dark morning in January before I left for work, and I knew that my life would be poorer from that moment on. I also knew that he would be my last cat, as he would be irreplaceable.

So after all these many years, I am back to dogs.

We stopped by an adoption event a month ago and a little terrier/poodle mutt who was napping woke up just long enough for us to see how smart and funny he was. He wagged his tail, flashed his big brown eyes at us, and won our hearts.

Harpo is now my Kitty Dog.