Okay, so there’s this:
Recently the big “gotcha” question for Newt Gingrich was about his supposed request for an “open marriage” with his 12th wife. Never mind that Newton Gingrich is all that is unholy in the human race. Lets focus on this old life detail, right?
I’d say Gingrich exemplifies venality and hot buttered graft better than the actual dictionary definitions. Well, I’m not sure hot buttered graft is in the dictionary, but you know what I mean. “But, but I’m a historian who does reenactments of all the great moments of greed and corruption from the past.” That’s what Newt sputters. “I teach living history—wanna see me do a Teapot Dome with a squirt of lime or maybe a Benedict Arnold reverse half nelson?—I‘m that good – did I tell you I’m a historian? You know, an intellectual, read stuff. Wanna get married or give me some money, you know, for talking, either is good…..”
Really, my only issue with a Newt Gingrich open marriage would be an assurance that I, as an American, would not have to participate. Sadly, deep in the bowels of the recent NDAA I’m pretty sure that it includes the option to force us into a Newt Gingrich open marriage. Obama assures us he will never use that part of the law during his administration, and that is supposed to calm us. But it’s all just moot until you find out Newt has an open account not only at Tiffany’s, but at the Open Marriage Costume Store – sorry they weren’t very creative with their name. It’s located just behind the coat closet in the Senate — knock twice and show a congressional sized roll of abdominal blubber. Then they will know you are one of them and give you entry. In the dark, dystopian future, Newt will have you dressed up like a Geometry teacher faster than you can say “just take me to Gitmo, please.”
The media wanted to make this a story, though, but, you know, the folks who normally love this stuff aren’t having it. They want the media to focus on the real issues like Mitt’s Mormon underwear with the little fertility symbols on his willy or whatever. It really is obvious that the people who gave us the witch trials reproduced a lot of offspring. Their descendants have exploded exponentially and they still like killing (or at least they enjoy the smarmy thrill of supporting Empire) and, of course, they still love to judge. But you get a pass on their judgment if you are one of their own. Like a crying televangelist, you are still in the fold. It’s a mathematical truism, really. The more sanctimonious you are in this nation, the more of a pass you get when caught with any personal dirt or perceived sketchiness.
It’s all fairly amusing to watch the perpetually red faced outragees of the right stew in these issues without the slightest bit of self-reflection. They will move on quickly to argue against people who love each other, but happen to be gay, or they will denigrate Romney’s religion without noticing the idiocy of their own.
If only these incidents opened up a dialogue in their own minds about the rigidity of their world, and the unyielding pronouncements that fall upon those they view as “others”. But that sure ain’t gonna happen.
Alas, I get away from myself, again. The nonsense seems well scripted, just enough batshit crazy pepper to make Obama appear as the dignified and elder statesman (don’t look too close at the blood under his nails, though). A level of distraction in the nation, and the Wall Street Rainmaker will stay in office. Who writes this damn script?
And they caught me up in it again….Bastards!
Well, see you all at Newt’s — and don’t forget your protractor.