Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

The Daily Recounting 3/7/17

The House GOP’s plan to replace Obamacare is stillborn, possibly because its mother had been thrown off the insurance rolls by the House GOP. Paul Ryan, though, refuses to accept this: he is dressing the already-rotting corpse up and taking it to the park like a crazy mother from a horror movie. The Speaker is behaving very much as if Trumpcare will be the hill he will die on, which is fine with me. Also fine with me: Paul Ryan dying in a valley, at a casino, within a sleeping bag, or at a picnic; the verb is far more important than the prepositional phrase in that sentence.

Besides being a patent giveaway to the upper class that would deprive (depending on whom you ask) anywhere from ten to twenty million people of insurance, AND raising the premiums of the elderly (who voted for Trump because the Baby Boomers aren’t quiiiiiiite finished sticking their dicks into everything they see) by a couple hundred percent, AND eliminating the mandate in favor of a tax credit (which, again, favors the wealthy), there’s no one with any political capital behind it: legislation this large requires an organized push from the Congress and–especially–the White House.

The White House was a little busy today. We’ll get back to Pennsylvania Avenue, but first some good news: normalcy is not completely gone.

Younger Enthusiasts, this may seem difficult to believe in the age of the Twitter Twit, but politicians used to have to be careful about what they said in public. Years of service and resumes the length of your arm could be set ablaze by one stray, stupid comment. Why? Because–and this is important–politicians were seen as serious people.

I know, right?

George Romney, Mitt’s dad, was the governor of Michigan during the Vietnam War; he was running for president in ’68 when–to explain his newfound opposition to the war–he went on teevee and said that he had been given a “good brainwashing” about the conflict. That was it for George. Ed Muskie was the governor of Maine, and a Senator, too. He cried on teevee. Bye-bye, Ed. Howard Dean was trying to rally a roomful of supporters and staff after a disappointing third-place finish in the Iowa caucus. He got a little carried away during his speech, and ended his exhortations with a strangled BEEYAH! sound that sounded fine in the cheering ballroom, but ludicrous on teevee. No more Howard Dean.

(Obviously the lesson here is: never go on television.)

But today’s news might be slightly heartening, as it seems that politicians who are not Imbecile Monsterface are still being judged by the previous standard: in defending the Republicans health care plan, Utah Representative Jason Chaffetz declared that poor people would have to make a choice between buying an iPhone and paying their insurance.

It should be noted about Rep. Chaffetz that he was not born a Mormon; he converted from Judaism during college. Jason went to BYU on an athletic scholarship. Started for the football team, and that is no lie.

Of course he was the fucking kicker.

Anyway: I always wonder about religious converts. There’s only so many reasons. There’s love. My grandma Rose became a Jew to marry my Grandpa Jack; it was important to his mother, and she didn’t give a shit. But who else converts, and I mean converts? A full-body somersault into an entirely new faith, not just getting real religious when you get sober or go to jail or whatever?

Seekers and strivers, that’s who.

(Especially Mormon converts: the religion is factually less plausible than other religions. Joseph Smith didn’t live all that long ago–he could have run into Busybody Tyndale–and there are all sorts of first-hand sources; we know the actual story, and it’s absurd. I hate to use a phrase so cliché as “laugh test,” but Joseph’s bullshit doesn’t pass it. Whereas Jesus lived 2017 years ago, so we are as unable to prove him a liar as we are to prove him Lord. Buddha is just a story, but Joseph Smith left documentation.)

Oh, also some dipshit–I can’t remember which of the dipshits, a real dipshitty one–came out for a press conference and he’s like, “Look, I brought two stacks of paper,” and there were two stacks of paper on the table next to him. The press corps went, “Oooooh.” And then the dipshit made ten million people’s health insurance go away. Ta-DA!

Oh, motherfucker, it was Spicer. Why do I ever go against the tenets of Without Research?

The stacks of paper, y’see, were meant to represent Obamacare (the big stack) and Godienowthanksbyecare (small one), the implication being that the smaller pile was preferable. For sheer dint of being shorter, I suppose: the Republicans view health care plans like jockeys, or female gymnasts. The GOP is as we speak working on a replacement plan to the replacement plan that consists of one page with “Sorry you got cancer” typed on it.

America, which does still contain humans who have lived on Earth all their lives, asked as one,

“Wouldn’t a national health insurance scheme covering 320 million people in 50 different markets necessarily be complicated as fuck?”

And Sean Spicer said,

“Did you see what the president tweeted this morning? Let’s talk about that.”

Oh, and we’re in the middle of a Cyber War with Russia. Wikileaks published a shitload of documents stolen from CIA this morning; I can’t begin to understand the technical details of it, but I can tell you the meaning of the act: Putin’s wagging his chekist cock at us.

Let’s talk about something more fun, though. Racist Orange Grandpa spent part of the day yelling at the teevee in public. (Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is just 24 hours with these fucking people.)

Judging from the timeline, Donny was watching Fox & Friends this morning for two hours–it’s not like there’s anything going on–and tweeting about the stories. The dumb white man said something about Obama and Gitmo, and then comes the tweet. The dumb white woman says something about Obama and Crimea, and then the tweet. The other dumb white man says something about White House leaks, and so on. For two fucking hours.

Chauncey Gardiner likes to watch teevee.

Wait, I forgot! Remember the Russian ambassador? The one everyone’s lying about having met? Guess who the next person who’s gonna lie about not having met him is. Did you guess the president? Good guess.

This was the 47th day of our national nightmare; may we wake up soon.

2 Comments

  1. SmokingLeather

    March 8, 2017 at 3:52 am

    My wife thinks that I should give us tumbler and start getting all of my news from you as well.

    Did you ever think that you would be someones touchstone of sanity?

  2. NoThoughtsOnDead

    March 8, 2017 at 9:36 pm

    I got to the line about Chaffetz being a kicker and lost it. The dogs, while unimpressed, are not so nervous that damage was done. I only wish we could say the same of the Republic.

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