Snow Blindness

Awoke to a one-inch dusting and yet again I think, What the hell?

To quote from one of my favorite movies (Kill Bill: Volume 2), weather forecasters are about as useful as an asshole right here [pointing to the elbow].

So out into the wild I go, shovel in hand—Got. To. Keep. The. Way. Clear! Like it was some pass high in the Urals through which General Patton's Armored Division would need to go, or something.

Obama's James

I visited Joshua James's daily dojo blog to read his take on Drama. I especially like his WHAT plus WHY equals WHO analysis of character. I even empathized with him on his love of Charles Schulz; I also am not afraid to admit I cried right along with my birthday mate (Schulz was born 11/26) on that PBS program as he realized, after all, that Charlie Brown would never kick that ball.

That pleasant bit of business over, his politics, while strenuously vocalized as Independent, are … how shall I put this? Leftist? Socialist? Progressive? Soft-pinko liberal? How about 180-degree antithetic to mine, and leave it at that?

For, you see, Joshua James is a playwright/screenwriter who lives in New York. Right, say no more, abi? It's only natural, the man's a left-wing nut. New York playwright. Left-wing nut. Bread and butter. Peanut Butter and Jelly. Barnum and Bailey. Yoko and John.

In the same proportion as I am a right-wing nut. Half-Black-Nigerian, Half-White-American, computer systems administrator, writer, chess player, fat boy. Living in Idaho. Sounds natural too, abi? Well, probably not.

To these folks I'm out of left fucking field. To wit: James comes on here, deposits a nice comment about my racism and bigotry, probably assuming I'm some whitebread Idahoan. I guess the joke's on him.

However, what gets me about James is his adamant bluster about being an “Independent.” Let's tick off just how politically “Independent” our man James actually is, let's look (using his musings) at his breezy fence-sitting:

My emotional response? Fuck the Republicans. Seriously, fuck those guys.

Don’t vote for Republicans, don’t give money to their party, don’t give money to companies who donate to the Republican Party, don’t buy products from companies who advertise on Fox News and give money to the Republican Party. If you truly believe that the Republican administration which has run this country for the past eight years has done a great job, you’re delusional and you need medical attention.

Oh boy, check out that “Independence,” flying all over the place! Duck now!

He says it's an emotional response, which I can understand. Emotionally for me, liberal Democrats are fucking mental lepers, fit only to live in cloistered colonies where they won't infect the healthy. Like New York city.

But:

Got a little emotional there again. But it’s true.

Okay, so much for that.

All this, mind, from a recalcitrant, dye-in-the-wool “Independent.” The chalk talk continues for miles in the same vein, smoothed over by silly self-recriminations about being overly emotional, excuse silly old him. After a curiously studied effort at analyzing each Democratic presidential candidate, he crawls up the rectum of one John Edwards and gets comfortable.

Reminds me of a friend from Florida, Keith—nicest gay man you'll ever meet. Who thinks he's a Republican that now hates what the Party is doing, can't find anyone to vote for, thinks the ideals of the party are no longer his. Still vehemently claims a Republican identity. But votes every time for Democratic candidates.

You know who votes for Democrats every time? Ding! That's right, they're called Democrats.

Choose whatever you want to call yourself, James, that's your right. However, when you stray into the desert of the Real (read: anywhere more than 100 miles from that cess pit, NY), be prepared to be called a batty liberal Socialist—which is what you are— self-conferred appellations aside.

That said, this right-wing nut Republican asshole still appreciates James's worms of dramatic knowledge which I will gulp, baby bird like, from his proffered Drama Mother's beak. After all, how bad can someone who loves Charles Schulz really be?