AMERICA FUCKS ITSELF IN THE ASS AGAIN

As I write these words I am numb right down to my very soul.

I spent the past few days marinating enough ribs for Missile Dick Chicks political fund-raiser and last night was the event itself, held on Manhattan’s Fourteenth Street in a psychedelically painted dance studio; there was a bank of TVs each broadcasting up-to-the-moment presidential election results and a projector that cast a wall-sized image of the slowly unfolding disaster. During the event I ended up behind the eats table, serving the crowd and accepting their cash. The available fare included my ribs (a certified hit for which many people requested my recipe), potato salad, and an assortment of store bought baked goods, including the amusingly monickered apple “occu-pie.”

For the most part the attendees were cheerful and polite, many in satirical politically themed costumes, the notable exception being an extremely obnoxious dominatrix who complained endlessly about being charged for admission and food despite the fact that the event was a fund-raiser; I first noticed her when I overheard a portion of the conversation that she was having with some blonde cutie, a conversation which included gems such as “Ever see a big, hard cock go straight up an ass?” Little did she realize that just such a violation was unfolding on a national scale right before our bleary eyes.

As the evening progressed and the inevitable results of the election began to become crystal clear, I took full advantage of my status as a staffer at the event and drank much booze to alleviate the agony. I even ended up with Steve Hughes and a bunch of the other attendees in a stairwell where we smoked this fucking enormous joint provided by some guy in an Uncle Sam outfit. Maybe it was because of the influence of the alcohol but when the whole thing ended Hughes and I walked five blocks to the twenty-four-hour savior of the wasted, Gray's Papaya, a dirt cheap and excellent hot dog joint (I recommend the "special," namely two grilled hot dogs and a drink for less than three bucks), and while Hughes and I devoured our meal we both realized that we hadn't been so fucking stoned in years; the guy's weed was incredible and helped to keep us awake as we made our way back to Brooklyn.

As we waited for the train, Hughes began one of his characteristic Irish rants about how he now has absolutely no faith in the American public — it took him this long? — and how we have doomed ourselves to another four years of international sadism, to say nothing of the potential worsening of our own country's multitude of ailments. He left the train at Carroll Street and I eventually attempted to transfer to the train that would drop me off on my side of the Gowanus River; unfortunately it was very late at night and there were many unannounced service changes, so my own train was not running and I was forced to leave the train station and walk the rest of the way home, not a fun prospect since I was completely wasted and I had a fifteen block walk to look forward to during the threat of an imminent rain storm. I had about twenty minutes of walking in which to contemplate all of our fates during the next four years and let me tell you it was depressing. I finally made it home at about 4:45 AM, and just as I entered the door it began to rain like something from the Bible. I passed out shortly thereafter and was out cold for the next nine-and-a-half hours, staying in bed in a hazy condition until just before 3PM, and awakening to find out that I couldn’t even take refuge in an episode of “Passions” since the major networks had devoted themselves to covering John Kerry throwing in the towel.

I have just witnessed Bush's acceptance speech and had to change the channel to absolutely anything else. I cannot stomach looking at his inbred face, and the only other things on local television are the various Spanish channels and the Food Network. I have to just sit here and process all of this. A couple of days ago I voiced the idea of moving to Canada as a viable option to my mom and she was horrified at the thought that I might move; I do not have the resources to make such a move but if I could I would be up North within a few days and would kiss this fucked-up land goodbye.

So now the horrifying and destructive regime of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney continues to roll on like the ignorance-and-fear-fueled juggernaut that it is, with yet more economic ruin, racist and religiously fanatical foreign policy and waste of lives inevitable. Hopefully this term will allow Bush and company to stumble even more obviously than they have in the past, perhaps knocking the blinders from the collective head of the American public, but just knowing that we have insanely relegated ourselves to four more years of this madness is some soul-destroying shit indeed. Once again the American public has given itself the government that it so richly deserves, and I for one do not welcome it.