Yesterday, Jesus and I attended a performance of the dramatic sensation that is sweeping the nation: a theater-in-the-unfound production of “Healthscare!“ It’s a boisterous Republican-produced melodrama, currently in out-of-town tryouts, being performed at town hall meetings throughout America. As a parade of amateur actors dutifully recited their tortuous lines of sputtering outrage, performed as a geek chorus, more frenzied chants than coherent dialogue, I nudged my nodding-off Savior and muttered: “Honestly, if I’m going to be amused by such scenery chewing pathos, I’d rather see a sobbing Glenn Beck as Medea!”
During the tediously long review, choreographed crazies erupted on cue every time a politician opens his mouth to talk about healthcare. The dialogue and delivery were so over-wrought and under-thought, before the 67th encore, Jesus and I were reaching for our souvenir talking-points program and jealously eying the exits. Frankly, any corybantic catfight on The Real Housewives of Atlanta has more authenticity — and dignity — than the snarling cue card recitations of the Healthcare Industry Players. And it’s not as if Jesus is put off by a little psychotic hysteria. As you will recall, He was recently the first person since 1985 to say “no” to Michael Jackson.
But, speaking of entertainment that has passed its “BEST BY” date, when did American political drama’s plots become so predictable, its scripts so sloppy? You will be able to predict every word that every character says once the first apoplectic actor has delivered his first angry monologue, so given to simple-minded repetition is the playwright. According to the monotonous script, every single character hates every single word President Obama says, a dull contrivance that leeches every bit of dramatic suspense from each line, making for a rather dull afternoon of theater! And any hope for a better second act is quickly deflated once you realized that the cast will also hate every single thing the President says in every subsequent scene, no matter what it is he actually winds up saying.
Politics has always been theater. But when did its production values slide so precipitously into a self-indulgent, repetitive chorus that only skirts banality by hinting at insanity? Since our last socialist president, FDR, our ovations have drifted from civic acts to circus acts. When did we go from a president who pretends he can stand to a citizenry that pretends it can’t stand anything?
Now, don’t get us wrong: As American Christians, Jesus and I both believe that when a child gets healthcare, an angel loses its virginity — or, worse, its concealed weapon. Redirecting dollars from arming bombs to vaccinating arms is clearly the work of a wicked, hateful Socialist Satan! (Or is that a Fascist Fallen Angel? Honestly, as Republicans, we don’t get all liberal-elite, fact-obsessed when it comes to what pejorative labels for unfashionable ideologies really mean!)
Nevertheless, this Republican road show of rage, with its cheap set, set script and unsettling cast, needs to close out of town before it reaches that big burlesque theater on Capitol Hill. After all, rednecks who hanker to become unglued in public so that rich people can make even more money off them will always have Dr. Phil! But this tedious traveling show has all the spontaneity of a Tom Cruise remark, the sincerity of a Bachelor or Bachelorette proposal and the restraint of a community theater production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? And just as with community theater, in this vanity production, it seems as if the only people having fun are the screaming hams hogging the stage.
My dear friend Janet L. Folger at Faith2Action called me last night. As usual, she was furious — and drunk. Two of Fred Phelps‘ loud and vulgar relatives have been invited to speak at a debate about Amendment 2 (against so-called “gay” marriage) in Florida.
As America’s Best Christian, I have devoted my life — and your generous tithes — to adding a glossy, coy sheen to the message that Jesus hates people who are not exactly like me in every respect.
I join Faith2Action in being appalled that those odious Phelps Sisters (not to be confused with the charmingly limber duo who juggled Fiesta® Ware while licking their own ankles in chiffon on the Lawrence Welk show) have been invited to Florida to rant and froth about Amendment 2. As a deliciously naughty Jesus is wont to remark, “Those gals are a pair of braying bumpkins no longer on speaking terms with mental health — or mirrors!” And, in contradistinction to me, Faith2Action, and Focus on Wringing Cash from Families, et al., these dowdy gargoyles lack the sophistication to couch their livid distaste for others in a more careful, media-friendly manner.
As founder of the world’s most profitable ex-gay ministry, BASH (Baptists Are Saving Homosexuals), I must support Amendment 2. After all, anything that can denigrate and delegitimize the hobby of being a homosexual, can only lead to less gays feeling secure and happy and, therefore, more likely to tithe at one of my many BASH franchises! (Look for my new BASH kiosk in Coral Gables!) Besides, since evangelical Christians have the highest divorce rates in the country (even higher than those dreadful Mary-Worshipers or hellbound atheists!), it behooves us to do everything possible to make sure that the gays don’t show us up by having happy, long marriages!
But I think the Phelps sisters have clearly gone several steps too far in their zeal for ostracizing homosexuals from their lives. One look at their bought-off-a-pegboard make-up, permed-over-a-kitchen-sink hair and unfortunate “House of Polygamist Compound” couture, it is clear that the one thing these gals need more than no gay marriages is a battalion of gay stylists!
So close to Jesus, I’ve seen the Polaroid of Fred that Drove the Phelps Sisters to Crazyville,
Have you seen the cozy little ads on TV by The American Petroleum Institute, the lobbying arm of Big Oil? They feature a Meredith Viera wannabe, who strolls about a canyon of enormous, misleading slogans. She purrs fun petro-facts, all in an attempt to make Americans feel almost downright lucky to be financially raped by, say, ExxonMobil, a company that squeaked through the gas crisis by making $4,635,845.00/hour in profit last year!
Well, in the interest of honesty — and never overlooking an opportunity to be snide, — I reedited those ads to make them a bit more candid. Watching it, you will have a taste for what it would be like to live in a world where businesses — and politicians — told the truth once in a while . . .
PUSH PLAY. Then go get a couple of lovely, hot coffee while CBS rudely bombards you with ads for their foolish shows. Then, fast forward this Katie Couric inverview to 5:24.
COURIC: I’m just going to ask you one more time. Not to belabor the point, specific examples in [John McCain's] 26 years [in Congress] of pushing for more regulation?
PALIN: I’ll try to find ya some — and I’ll bring ‘em to ya!
BETTY: Darling, we’re looking for a Vice President, not a secretary.
Last night, I interviewed Sarah Palin for “The No Sin Zone.” And it didn’t go well. Frankly, the ratio of pit-bull to Mary Kay was shockingly steep. Coming off her smarmily inept ABC interview with “Charlie” (a name now welded to my consciousness, as if by a nervously wielded pneumatic rivet gun), I suspect Sarah thought she was in for the type of pragmatic obliviousness that springs from a “Winning First” approach to facts. And the notion that reality should spring from party politics, not the other way around. Truly, it’s been a long time — OK, 4 years! — since a politician so ruthlessly benefited from “values voters” turning a carefully choreographed once-censorious, now-blind eye to any value other than not spending the next four years with the name of a loser on their bumper.
Fortunately, I have the gift of discerning coy sins less careful Christians — and my inattentive Savior — routinely overlook. And as founder of Bringing Integrity To Christian Homemakers, one sin pings my values radar louder than an incoming sortie of foul smelling demons: Narcissistic parents who irresponsibly spit out babies they have neither the interest nor time to care about. That’s the problem with people who regard birth as simply the end of a pregnancy, rather than the beginning of a life. Birth marks the start of work, not a self-congratulatory furlough. Absent through either a preoccupation with stoking a ravenous blast furnace of an ego (Mrs. Palin) or simply because they’d rather be fishing (Mr. Palin), the Palins selfishly make a shambles of their children’s lives. Drugs, sex, alcohol, vendetta’s and arrests! Honestly, it all sounds a bit like Gossip Girl, only in a pioneer setting with a wardrobe by Sears.
What is most telling about all this is not that abandoned teenagers sometimes make bad choices, but that they are not always the most irresponsible people in the house. Mr. & Mrs. Palin responded to missteps by teenage strangers in their house by shipping them both off to live with someone with more time or patience for undergoing the bother of raising children. The daughter was sent to live with an aunt. And the son was jetted off to live with a family in Michigan! Honestly, do any of you believe American jobs would be safe under a President Palin, someone who outsources even her own parenting?
Well, the gals at B.I.T.C.H. don’t go for that slapdash approach to the well being of America’s children! We are rather concerned that Sarah is running as a “Hockey Mom” and a “PTA Mom,” but when anyone dares to look into what type of “Mom” she actually is, we are told that her children’s lives — and the trail of discarded beer and OxyContin bottles behind them — are private, personal and not to be used for politics. That is, of course, unless their “Me First!” mother needs them as casting call props, either in photo ops or her endless, shamelessly opportunistic reminders that her eldest son has enlisted — and they had a “ceremony” in case the point was lost. Given the arresting circumstances that provoked such an enlistment (probably greeted with the same enthusiasm Bristol’s boyfriend is now regarding being drafted into marriage), you would think Sarah would at least have the grace to blush each time she merchandises either her parenthood or patriotism.
First off, let’s give Caribou Barbie some credit: She showed up and was rather feisty. But her demeanor made me think she was going to end her speech by saying, “I’m Tracy Flick and I’d be so honored and super-grateful to get YOUR vote for Student Government!”
The tone was much like her hometown: small and cold. While bitchiness is a definite plus at my dinner table (and the one thing I’ll miss most in Heaven), it isn’t very becoming in national politics. There’s a difference between being spunky and being snarky, being able to inspire and being able to get a laugh.
I suspect when voters weigh a candidate’s abilities, the best substitute for competency won’t be sarcasm. After all, they don’t call it mocking the vote. Because Leadership-by-Put-Downs hasn’t worked well for our current president and seems oddly suited to someone trying to pass herself off as being full of optimism, faith and fresh ideas.
Palin spoke with a snideness more at home in a catfight on Project Runway than a vice presidential acceptance speech. Fortunately, I suspect this will wind up being to her advantage. If allegations of an affair and other unseemly shenanigans prove true, her family is going to make for television’s most rivetingly nasty and bawdy reality show.
Tellingly, the image that lingers is not of Palin at all. It is her young daughter slathering the palm of her hand with spit and then smearing it on her baby brother’s head. Like her mommy’s speech, it was both cute and off-putting at the same time.
Candidate for “Vice” President Sarah Palin has finally fessed up that her unmarried teenage daughter has been running around town having unprotected sex. Truly, the Lord Jesus is showing us two things by this sad example of teenage harlotry:
1. That a mother who also engages in sexual activity outside of a traditional, Christian marriage (if you doubt this, check out the birthday of Sarah’s first son — April 20, 1989 — and the date she and her handsome hubby eloped — August 29, 1988!) sets an appalling example for her own children. Indeed, studies from Focus on the Family have proven that harlot mothers wind up with harlot daughters 93.4% of the time. Similar studies by the godly gals at Concerned Women for America have concluded that these poor, impressionable girls learn to strut, show inappropriate décolletage and beguile like pushy prostitutes in their very own living rooms.
2. And a mother who values her career (to the point of abandoning a newborn to campaign 24-7 for a new job in another state) above raising her precious family should not be surprised when she FINALLY steps back inside her family home (if she remembers the address) to find that it has been filled with bastards in her shocking absence!
And, honestly, what is happening to our once-godly country when REPUBLICANS are getting all giddy over a unrepentant harlot? I expect Demoncrats to go for that nonsense, but not the party of God. Please join me in praying to the Lord Jesus that Mr. McCain kick this trash to the curb!
Choose carefully whom you hate: you may not like them, but you will wind up being like them. While the erstwhile “maverick” John McCain continues to swagger down the crooked path of supplication towards the altar of all things George W. Bush, I think we are about to see a far less likely candidate make that soulless journey.
It is looking rather unlikely that Hillary Clinton will seat enough delegates to clinch the nomination:
This gives Madame Senator two options: (1) to graciously congratulate the winner; or (2) push, brawl, connive and scrape to wrest victory from the more popular candidate. Oh, who are we kidding? This is Hillary Clinton we’re talking about: there will be none of the congratulating thing until every permutation of the wresting thing has been tried.
Hillary’s 2008 approach to counting the delegates will be very much like George W. Bush’s 2000 approach to counting the votes: Don’t. Unless, of course, they are of the unelected “superdelegate” variety. You just know that Hillary is already thinking of them as 796 little Supreme Court justices. But before we even get to that point, I suspect the Clinton campaign will take another page from Bush’s 2000 “do anything – I said anything! — to finesse a win” strategy. And, once again, the battleground will be Florida, a state that has been, frankly, nothing but trouble since they drained the swamps and put up gold-flocked wallpaper and turquoise nautical-themed colonnades. Only, this time, the fight in Florida will be to get counted what the Democratic National Convention has said should not be counted. You see, Florida’s Democratic delegates don’t count this year. The DNC, acting like the most frosty, Germanic hostess, has refused to seat them for arriving too early. Honestly, you should see the way Hillary has started looking at them! I haven’t seen such covetousness since Laura “Pickles” Bush gave me a tour of her walk-in medicine cabinet!
As a supremely self-satisfied Republican, I regard any proposed adjustment to the status quo with profound suspicion. As such, you won’t find me squandering time looking for a candidate who provides that specious, au courant panacea called “change.” On the contrary, I’m looking for someone inept enough to keep things the way they have been going for the past seven years!
At last, I think I have finally settled on the candidate who isn’t mewho will provide the most seamless segue from the Bush Administration’s ardent flirtations with fascism. You see, today’s New York Times (a liberal rag I don’t usually lower myself to read, as I tend to prefer Prada to Pravda) has a riveting piece on a politician who is wondrously tetchy, petty, vindictive and holds a healthy impatience for the niceties of that picayune Constitution of ours.
No, the article isn’t about our current President; it’s about Rudy Giuliani. But the fact that you may have assumed the former rather proves my point, doesn’t it? One of my favorite examples of the notorious cross-dresser’s touchy response to free speech: Mr. Giuliani retaliated against a man who called into his talk show to complain about the NYC Police by having the critic arrested! Glory! That’s the type of righteous response to light disapproval in a democracy that only Pervez Musharraf and Dick Cheney can fully appreciate!
