by Emmett R Smith
I Certainly don’t care a whole Hell of a lot for Mrs Alaska Republican Governor Clapspider, or her old buck husband The Pinhead. Still, I am Iess than annoyed by stories the The Goof once advocated Alaskan independence. But on the other hand poor not-so-old Barack Obama is now left wandering around down here making promises with no money to back them up (the Republican Party of fiscal “conservativism” has pissed it all away!) and, so, no real hope in Hell of any fulfillment.
American government today is like one of these frozen overgrown mammoth corpses where everyone is battling to beat Hell for their cut of the dwindling supply of now rapidly rotting dead meat….
As matters stand now, it well may be that something like a Streamlined America is the only answer:
In Dakota I am in contact now online with a bloc of young people who very well would secede in a heartbeat — in order to have constitutional government again ON A MANAGEABLE SCALE.
Also, speaking personally, I would not suffer a great deal of heartbreak if we were to pull back East of the Mississippi.
California IS a separate nation in any case, as well as New York, and the Southwest of course is really Mexican, always has been, although now infested by loads of these singularly undignified OLD baby boom Viagra & incontinency cases of my objectively God-damned 1946-64 generation — I for one, however, have no loyalty of emotion whatsoever to these retired professional folk, most of whose subsidized and nonproductive (!) “careers” amount in total to as much theft as the stealing on the right, by the thieving corporate CEOs.
(The REAL Obama by the way is a handsome black tomcat, living with us here in Easton, MN, in Faribault County in the Southern Tier, on the North Coast of Ioway
(He is Felix Obama….
(The black men here now, ex-cons working on the Catholic Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel steeple in Easton, think it is cool, and THEY got it right away when they heard us calling the cat the other night:
(“Obama, get your black ass in here and eat your supper!”
(As the cat trotted up, I became nervously aware that some of the carpenters were shooting hoops in the court, not two hundred feet from our back door. The next day I ran into a couple of the fellas up at the post office. They grinned widely when they saw me and wanted to know just WHO this Obama was I’d been calling the night before. I told them the cat’s full name, gliding artfully around the institutional racism regretably no doubt implicit in it all….
(“That right, Man, he FELIX Obama, that mean Latin an’ it mean he a HAPPY cat, Man, and he NOT be out dere gettin’ he fool ass shot AT!” As it turns up, the cat of course has been doubledipping, eating also at the vacant parsonage where the workmen are all staying. I am going to be interviewing these steeplejacks for my radio show, and meanwhile you can read all about them online, at inspiredheights.com — ERS)
[Emmett R Smith all rights reserved 19 September 2008]