To hear the Democrats tell it, they are the one party that proudly represents minorities. Nothing could be further from the truth. Sure racial minorities like African-Americans, Hispanics and Asians tend to vote predominantly Democratic, but the Republican Party can boast even more support from a greater number of minorities.
For example, take those 25% of Americans who believe that President Obama was born in Kenya. The Republican Party has a lock on them, as well as the 17% who believe he is a secret (or not so secret) Muslim. That last group is equal to the percentage of Hispanic Americans in the U.S. If the Democrats really wanted to represent minorities, they would work to get the votes of these two groups by demanding Barack Hussein Obama be deported, after of course being forced to accept Christ at gunpoint.
Then there are those souls who Time forgot, people who would be much more at home in the no-questions-asked bliss of the Dark Ages. They turn exclusively to the GOP. This would include the 25% of anti-Copernican Americans who swear on a stack of Bibles that the sun revolves around our Earth and the even larger group of 46% who believe that same Earth is still a tween, geologically speaking.
These same Americans, those who see the pernicious evil inherent in anything scientific, are of course joined by the 37% who know in their guts that climate change is a lie straight from the pit of hell, a hoax created by effete, limp-wristed arugula-eaters who want to destroy our country's greatest achievement: the muscle car. The only way the Democrats could ever hope to claim their votes would be to replace every science textbook in the country with the Cliff Notes to Genesis. And publicly stone Bill Nye to death.
There are yet two other groups, equal in population percentage to African-Americans and Hispanics respectively, who the GOP can count among the minorities they represent, that being the 22% of Americans who believe that states have a right to secede from the Union and the 17% who want to do it this very goddamn minute. There is little the Democrats can do to appease these voters, aside from repealing the Emancipation Proclamation and changing the National Anthem to Dixie. This is unlikely.
There are even yet smaller blocs of voters that only the GOP can count on, one being the 11% of Americans who oppose any and all birth control. The Democrats did try to court them with the Just Say Woo-Hoo to Oral & Anal Sex campaign, but it was unsuccessful.
This of course only skims the surface of the Republican-supporting minorities. There are still those small groups who favor Sarah Palin for president, those who believe that FEMA is setting up death/Muslim-indoctrination/hip hop camps, those who think a government default would be really great for business, those who believe George W. Bush was definitely right about something, those who believe homosexuality is contagious and those who think Brit Hume is a real hunk.
But all of this pales in comparison to the Republicans' smallest minority, one that just barely edges out Native Americans in population percentage at 1%. The filthy rich. The handful who own 46% of not just America's, but the world's wealth. This group includes the now-famous Koch brothers, among other well-heeled sociopaths. Of course the Democrats would love to have their support, but they just aren't able to muster that nonchalant amorality that comes so naturally to the GOP.
So even though the Democrats would happily trade their minorities for the Republicans' 1%, they'll just have to make do with what they have: a majority. Now if they could only get all of them to vote.
©2014 Kona Lowell
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
A Typical Day in Republican Utopia
Back in 2014, due to gerrymandering, voter disenfranchisement and too many Democratic voters deciding to wait for the 2016 elections, Republicans not only held the House, but captured the Senate. President Obama, although impeached, held on to finish his second term, but was unable to accomplish anything of note, and is now remembered primarily for the failed prison uprising he led. When President Paul took office, Republicans immediately began to put into place those laws and policies they had long desired to enact. These actions effectively killed the Democratic Party and the United States became the Republican utopia conservatives had only dared to dream of creating. The following is a typical day in the life of one such voter.
Bob's alarm goes off. It's 4:00 AM. Time to get ready for work. Bob is thankful for the extra hour of sleep. It makes Saturday his favorite day. He smiles. It's going to be a beautiful one. The red sun is just rising over the nuclear reactors in a spectacular sepia sky.
Bob steps into his coveralls and heads for the kitchen, where his wife Betty has his breakfast ready: a nice hot bowl of genetically-modified beef-parts porridge with an extra scoop of lard and a big glass of Coke Classic. The five kids still living at home will eat later.
Not wanting to be late, Bob gulps the last of his Coke, and picking up his shovel, heads for the door. Betty kisses him on the cheek as he adjusts her leash on the woman-run wire that extends along the ceiling from the bedroom to the kitchen. She will have a busy day homeschooling the five kids. Today they're studying the Great War of Northern Aggression. The children will love the picture of Robert E. Lee and Jesus riding their triceratops into battle together and defeating the Union forces at Gettysburg.
Bob settles into his truckmobile and turns the key. Nothing like the purr of a V-12. As he pulls out of the driveway, he reflects on how fortunate he is that gas is only $3 a gallon, but does regret that his two oldest sons are now on their 4th tours of duty in the Canadian Tar Sands War. He shakes his head and thanks God that they're not stuck in the Mexican Crude quagmire, like their younger brother.
When Bob gets to work, he finds it's going to be a long day. A new trainload of shit has arrived. He tells himself he should have bought that bigger shovel he had his eye on. Oh well, maybe next year. Anyway, at least he's a foreman, or he wouldn't have a shovel at all. But of course with that position comes responsibility and the one thing Bob hates to do is throw his workers into the death pit, but it's just part of the job. Can't shovel shit with a bad arm, and that infection has finally taken its toll on Johnny. And he was the best bowler on their team, too. Bob wipes his hands on his coveralls and realizes how lucky he is that there are no immigrants to steal his job.
It's 7:00 PM and quitting time. Bob is dog tired and looking forward to a genetically-modified beef-parts dinner and watching Fox, which used to be called television. He crosses the Rush Limbaugh Memorial Bridge and takes the White Only exit off the tollway, avoiding the traffic around Prison Town. Pulling into his driveway, he thinks about the mountain of shit to deal with at work, but then relaxes when he remembers that tomorrow is Sunday. Only 8 hours of work, after mandatory service at St. Hannity's. Bob smiles and thanks God that all the liberals have vanished and says to himself, "Imagine how bad things would be if we had gay marriage."
©2014 Kona Lowell
Bob's alarm goes off. It's 4:00 AM. Time to get ready for work. Bob is thankful for the extra hour of sleep. It makes Saturday his favorite day. He smiles. It's going to be a beautiful one. The red sun is just rising over the nuclear reactors in a spectacular sepia sky.
Bob steps into his coveralls and heads for the kitchen, where his wife Betty has his breakfast ready: a nice hot bowl of genetically-modified beef-parts porridge with an extra scoop of lard and a big glass of Coke Classic. The five kids still living at home will eat later.
Not wanting to be late, Bob gulps the last of his Coke, and picking up his shovel, heads for the door. Betty kisses him on the cheek as he adjusts her leash on the woman-run wire that extends along the ceiling from the bedroom to the kitchen. She will have a busy day homeschooling the five kids. Today they're studying the Great War of Northern Aggression. The children will love the picture of Robert E. Lee and Jesus riding their triceratops into battle together and defeating the Union forces at Gettysburg.
Bob settles into his truckmobile and turns the key. Nothing like the purr of a V-12. As he pulls out of the driveway, he reflects on how fortunate he is that gas is only $3 a gallon, but does regret that his two oldest sons are now on their 4th tours of duty in the Canadian Tar Sands War. He shakes his head and thanks God that they're not stuck in the Mexican Crude quagmire, like their younger brother.
When Bob gets to work, he finds it's going to be a long day. A new trainload of shit has arrived. He tells himself he should have bought that bigger shovel he had his eye on. Oh well, maybe next year. Anyway, at least he's a foreman, or he wouldn't have a shovel at all. But of course with that position comes responsibility and the one thing Bob hates to do is throw his workers into the death pit, but it's just part of the job. Can't shovel shit with a bad arm, and that infection has finally taken its toll on Johnny. And he was the best bowler on their team, too. Bob wipes his hands on his coveralls and realizes how lucky he is that there are no immigrants to steal his job.
It's 7:00 PM and quitting time. Bob is dog tired and looking forward to a genetically-modified beef-parts dinner and watching Fox, which used to be called television. He crosses the Rush Limbaugh Memorial Bridge and takes the White Only exit off the tollway, avoiding the traffic around Prison Town. Pulling into his driveway, he thinks about the mountain of shit to deal with at work, but then relaxes when he remembers that tomorrow is Sunday. Only 8 hours of work, after mandatory service at St. Hannity's. Bob smiles and thanks God that all the liberals have vanished and says to himself, "Imagine how bad things would be if we had gay marriage."
©2014 Kona Lowell
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
The Christie Disaster
Trenton, New Jersey. With new revelations, accusations and questions coming almost hourly, and more of his inner circle resigning and citing their 5th Amendment rights each day, the outlook for Governor Chris Christies's political future grows exceedingly grim. The normally well-received governor was even loudly booed at a Superbowl event this past weekend while Republican politicians who once stood behind him are now quietly tiptoeing away from the cameras. The sinking ship is nearly ratless.
The polls are not favoring the embattled governor either. The uncanny approval ratings he only recently basked in are now turning upside down and his frontrunner status for the GOP presidential nomination in 2016 has dwindled to a bad fourth. While the Democrats, and Hillary Clinton in particular, might be savoring a moment of political schadenfreude, the Republicans are not thrilled. With Jeb Bush now leading the pack for the 2016 nomination, and losing handily by double digits to Clinton in a theoretical match-up, their hopes for taking back the White House are about as realistic as the Bronco's fourth quarter odds against the Seahawks were. Of course there's always Mike Huckabee.
And what makes matters worse is that Bridgegate is dominating the news at a time when the Republicans desperately want to focus on Benghazi, and the media, with the notable exception of Fox News, is just not cooperating. There is a reason: one is an actual scandal, one is not. And the media loves a real scandal and can sometimes tell the difference. And although Republicans fervently want Americans to believe that besieged embassy personnel dying tragically in a faraway and chaotic war zone is exactly identical to a governor's administration using its high offices to punish political opponents in a petulant and bullying manner, the parallel seems to be escaping most reasonable people.
But now my staff is telling me we have breaking news. We go to Herbert Morrison in Lakehurst, New Jersey for the latest.
It's practically standing still now. They've dropped ropes out of the nose of the ship, and they've been taken a hold of down on the field by a number of men. It's starting to rain again; it's—the rain has slacked up a little bit. The back motors of the ship are just holding it just, just enough to keep it from — It burst into flames! Get this, Charlie! Get this, Charlie! It's fire—and it's crashing! It's crashing terrible! Oh, my, get out of the way, please! It's burning and bursting into flames, and the—and it's falling on the mooring-mast and all the folks agree that this is terrible, this is one of the worst catastrophes in the world. It's–it's–it's the flames, oh, four- or five-hundred feet into the sky and it ... it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen. It's smoke, and it's flames now ... and the frame is crashing to the ground, not quite to the mooring-mast. Oh, the humanity and all the passengers screaming around here. I told you, I can't even talk to people whose friends are on there. Ah! It's–it's–it's–it's ... o–ohhh! I–I can't talk, ladies and gentlemen. Honest, it's just laying there, a mass of smoking wreckage. Ah! And everybody can hardly breathe and talk, and the screaming. Lady, I–I'm sorry. Honest: I–I can hardly breathe. I–I'm going to step inside where I cannot see it. Charlie, that's terrible. Ah, ah—I can't. I, listen, folks, I–I'm gonna have to stop for a minute because I've lost my voice. This is the worst thing I've ever witnessed.
Okay. I really must apologize. I trusted my staff to get me the right clip. I'm really angry. I did not know they were going use that. Someone's going to get fired. That was about another big gasbag that went down in flames in New Jersey.
©2014 Kona Lowell
The polls are not favoring the embattled governor either. The uncanny approval ratings he only recently basked in are now turning upside down and his frontrunner status for the GOP presidential nomination in 2016 has dwindled to a bad fourth. While the Democrats, and Hillary Clinton in particular, might be savoring a moment of political schadenfreude, the Republicans are not thrilled. With Jeb Bush now leading the pack for the 2016 nomination, and losing handily by double digits to Clinton in a theoretical match-up, their hopes for taking back the White House are about as realistic as the Bronco's fourth quarter odds against the Seahawks were. Of course there's always Mike Huckabee.
And what makes matters worse is that Bridgegate is dominating the news at a time when the Republicans desperately want to focus on Benghazi, and the media, with the notable exception of Fox News, is just not cooperating. There is a reason: one is an actual scandal, one is not. And the media loves a real scandal and can sometimes tell the difference. And although Republicans fervently want Americans to believe that besieged embassy personnel dying tragically in a faraway and chaotic war zone is exactly identical to a governor's administration using its high offices to punish political opponents in a petulant and bullying manner, the parallel seems to be escaping most reasonable people.
But now my staff is telling me we have breaking news. We go to Herbert Morrison in Lakehurst, New Jersey for the latest.
It's practically standing still now. They've dropped ropes out of the nose of the ship, and they've been taken a hold of down on the field by a number of men. It's starting to rain again; it's—the rain has slacked up a little bit. The back motors of the ship are just holding it just, just enough to keep it from — It burst into flames! Get this, Charlie! Get this, Charlie! It's fire—and it's crashing! It's crashing terrible! Oh, my, get out of the way, please! It's burning and bursting into flames, and the—and it's falling on the mooring-mast and all the folks agree that this is terrible, this is one of the worst catastrophes in the world. It's–it's–it's the flames, oh, four- or five-hundred feet into the sky and it ... it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen. It's smoke, and it's flames now ... and the frame is crashing to the ground, not quite to the mooring-mast. Oh, the humanity and all the passengers screaming around here. I told you, I can't even talk to people whose friends are on there. Ah! It's–it's–it's–it's ... o–ohhh! I–I can't talk, ladies and gentlemen. Honest, it's just laying there, a mass of smoking wreckage. Ah! And everybody can hardly breathe and talk, and the screaming. Lady, I–I'm sorry. Honest: I–I can hardly breathe. I–I'm going to step inside where I cannot see it. Charlie, that's terrible. Ah, ah—I can't. I, listen, folks, I–I'm gonna have to stop for a minute because I've lost my voice. This is the worst thing I've ever witnessed.
Okay. I really must apologize. I trusted my staff to get me the right clip. I'm really angry. I did not know they were going use that. Someone's going to get fired. That was about another big gasbag that went down in flames in New Jersey.
©2014 Kona Lowell
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