Dear America,little g must speak now.
as the world turns shades of grey into a sitcom -- between the escapades of Miley Cyrus on center stage, San Diego Mayor Boob Filner's self-righteous resignation indignation (and blaming the media for creating a monster of a story out of his own words) in tandem with the latest smear campaign taking on a prospective local mayoral candidate, Carl DeMaio -- who's being accused of masturbating in a public restroom, and California deciding the one percent transgender population gets to rule over all school restrooms, locker rooms, and even including participation exceptions for all athletics programs -- what next?
Now considering the love of my life has been in the midst of fighting for his life over the last two weeks (give or take, five years) -- NONE of this really caught my attention for anything longer than a nano-second; it's been a perpetual touch and go for the both of us after he survived the emergency surgery. But boy, do I feel sorry for the rest of you, having to deal with this BS with wits intact.
When a loved one is experiencing a direct assault upon their health and overall happiness, the feeling universally recognized as being under the weather takes on a whole new meaning. Life virtually stops for everyone.
And we wait.
We wait for as long as it takes.
All the while, anything that comes across our path as too stupid for words, let alone time of day, simply wafts over us like a ripple; it would be so lucky just to get an eyebrow raised.
In my world according to me, G -- I can do ridiculousness all by myself; and it's growing into such a riot, I'm thinking of selling tickets.
But enough about me; how about the seriously sick and twisted acts of Syria? Can I get a hell-no we won't go?
Not one more American soldier should die or lose a limb to fight alongside these lunatics.
Can I also get a shut the fuck up, while we're at it?
Who's bright idea was it to lead with the traitor tactics -- announcing our plan of attack, the positioning of warships, even down to the day we will lob a few missiles over enemy lines, and compromising not only our overall military strateegury, but completely taking out the unknown soldier -- the element of surprise! Hello, earth to dumbshits????
[Girl meet sailor mouth; sailor mouth meet girl]
I'm not sorry for that.
It's just gonna be that kind of a day -- because in all my spare time waiting around for my real life to start up again, I've polished my skills at spitting nails. It's great fun; why you autta try it sometime, big boy...and if you say that putting a little spin on it, like Mae West, or something, you, too, can maybe find a reason to smile under such horrific conditions [if only for a moment].
Gosh, this world, this country --
it's a fuckin mess.
Didn't need the extra expletive there to convey what I needed to say, but hey - deal with it.
And now, can you see how ugliness can just get uglier as the continuum of time and blog space and ridiculousness implodes upon itself?
Where do we go from here?
How will this all end?
Am I just returning to me -- and my baby -- wondering when the love light can burn bright without the use of tubes to get us through the day?
The fate of San Diego?
The California school system, now hanging on by a frayed, misguided liberal thread?
The destruction of civility, a purposeful life, and sanity in a little place called Syria -- and almost everywhere else the sun shines?
From the linked article in the Wall Street Online (above):
Which makes us wonder why the Administration even bothers to pursue the likes of Edward Snowden when it is giving away its plan of attack to anyone in Damascus with an Internet connection. The answer, it seems, is that the attack in Syria isn't really about damaging the Bashar Assad regime's capacity to murder its own people, much less about ending the Assad regime for good...
So what is the purpose of a U.S. attack? Mr. Carney elaborated that it's "about responding to [a] clear violation of an international standard that prohibits the use of chemical weapons." He added that the U.S. had a national security interest that Assad's use of chemical weapons "not go unanswered." This is another way of saying that the attacks are primarily about making a political statement, and vindicating President Obama's ill-considered promise of "consequences," rather than materially degrading Assad's ability to continue to wage war against his own people.
Our reputation precedes us in all things.
Not to mention -- the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize president is going to unilaterally attack another country? Syrius-ly?
The thing is:
We can't take away the striptease once we're at bare butt naked and showing everything -- whether that looks like,
...poor taste, poor judgment, or just the potty mouth that came along mindlessly and willingly for the ride
... the making of empty promises and chest beating threats and then running for cover
...or putting the blame on anything and everything within an arm's reach and headlock.
Individually -- and ultimately collectively -- we must each stand on our own, by virtue of our own magnificence [or, in contrast, our faults]. While the integrity of the whole depends upon it.
If I were to fully wake up after the loss of a couple weeks and look around -- me thinks my heart would sink into a depression so deep, my only choice would be to fall back to sleep.
But that would only embolden the enemy now wouldn't it?
America -- Pray for our boys and girls in the military, their families staying home in wait, and for the restoration of order in Syria, Egypt, and throughout the world. May the miracle of sound thought and critical thinking lead the way before we say or do one more fuckeen thing (masterminded in secret and in tandem with our values, of course).
Is America in favor of another ass-backwards war?
Make it a Good Day, G
without further adieu,
epi-blog true form, indeed...
are we killing for fun now?
beating an old man and a war veteran to death?
And now scurrying to the other side of the world -- to China -- and to the saddest thing ever. There is nothing in my world that can compete with this. Nothing. Dear Guo -- the little one who musters the guts to question, "why is it dark?" That is the question of the day, my sweet.