More Teabagger B.S.

12 April 2010

Today’s newspaper (11 April 2010) ran an article on the Teabaggers’ planning a soirée up the road at which they will dance around, denouncing “big government” and all the ills attendant thereto.  Especially their main bugaboo, “creeping socialism.”  These people really piss me off.

Let’s look first that the issue of creeping socialism.  If Karl Marx arose from his grave and looked around, a smile would spread across his face; he would open his arms expansively and say, “Guys!  You did it!”  After all, America has implemented many of the things for which the old curmudgeon was plumping: Social Security, Medicare, trade unions, child labor laws, Medicaid, OSHA, food stamps, DSHS and general assistance.  And don’t forget consumer protection and anti-trust laws.  And as you know, whenever a politician advocates something like the Teabaggers’ wet dream of repealing Social Security, he or she is instantly consigned to the outer darkness and written off as a crank at best.  No, we Americans like our “creeping socialism.”

As for taxes.  If the Teabaggers ever looked at the Declaration of Independence, they’d see that it’s not an anti-tax screed, for only once in its 1,319 words does “tax” appear, and then only to complain of having no representation in the matter.  When the Teabaggers blubber on about 1776 and all that, what they don’t understand is that our Founding Fathers didn’t so much dislike taxes as they disliked being occupied by a foreign power — which was what England had become — and wanted to throw it out.  Which, by the way, is exactly what the Iraqis and Afghans are trying to do to us.

About the Teabaggers’ angst over the deficit, have we, the American people, indulged in wretched excess these last years?  Certainly.  In capitalist systems, such excesses take place every fifty years or so and then Pop Goes the Bubble.  Like remorseful drunks, we then hit bottom, take the pledge and stay more-or-less sober until, fifty years later, we go on another bender.  (BTW, this fifty-year cycle is called the Kondratiev wave.  Look it up at

Somebody ought to grab these Teabaggers and wash out their mouths with lye soap (pun intended).


Ye Olde Beater

2 April 2010

Frigging old car is going to hell.  It’s a 1989 Ford Crown Victoria with a 302.  I bought it a year and a half ago from a fellow who no longer needed it – he was going in the slammer for at least two years, thanks to a whole slug of DUI tickets he earned in a little over two years.  The judge finally had it with him and away he goes.  At nine o`clock he listed it on Craig’s list and by ten I bought it.  For $500.

I know, I know.  $500 for a beater is a bit much.  But everything sort of worked.  The major deficiencies were the back windows (they don’t go up or down), the A/C was shot and the body had four major dents.  But now the taillights are out, as are the instrument lights, and the wipers have become a sometime thing.  The saving graces are an engine and tranny are still solid.

So why does a guy my age drive around in a piece of crap like that anyway?  I’ll tell you why: Because a 1989 Ford is all I can afford.  If you valued readers would only go to Amazon’s Kindle library and buy Trucker, I could upgrade to the cherry 1973 Chrysler that’s for sale down the street.  Oh, what a dream it is: Shit-brindle in color, it has four doors, a 400 CID engine with a 2-barrel carb, A/C, power this-and-that, AM/FM and a 6-way seat up front.  And no dents.  It even has all its hub caps.

But I must continue driving the Ford, probably until Hell freezes over.  But I’ve driven old beaters before.  Probably the worst was a 1979 Dodge wagon.  I drove the living shit out of it.  That old pile took me to the Bay Area eight times before it was through.  The last time, it couldn’t make it up Siskiyou pass without being held in second gear.  No one could say I didn’t get my money’s worth out of it.

Well, time for my evening walk.