A No Vote For Warren
Now, don’t get me wrong here. I love Elizabeth Warren. Love her.
Lo-o-o-o-o-o-ove her. I wanna marry her. Don’t worry; so does The Loved One. Wants to marry her, that is. We’d have a three-way marriage. We have a spare bedroom at Chez Pencil and Lizzie (as we’d affectionately address her) could sleep and change her clothes there in privacy.
Swoon (AP)
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T-Lo and I would take turns making her breakfast. Then we’d sit there, just listening, our chins in our hands, as she, Lizzie, would expound on this or that problem or proposed law. Sigh.
So now I can say this without fear that someone would dare to think I don’t support everything she stands for:
Elizabeth Warren will never, ever, ever become the President of the United States of America.
There.
Not only that, Elizabeth Warren would make a horrifyingly bad president.
She’d be a one-termer. And, you think the Me Party wing of the GOP is dedicated to stifling the occupant of the White House now? Oh, babies, just wait until some dame who doesn’t genuflect before the banksters gets in there.
Again, I dig Lizzie the most. But she’s too smart, too eager to talk facts and figures rather than fairy tales and bedtime stories, and is too much of a hard-ass for the banksters and the Right to bear.
They’re Starting Already
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Look what they’ve done to Hillary Clinton over the past couple of decades. And she, Hillary, is pretty much one of them.
Hillary, IIRC, is a commie, lesbo, man-hating, murderer. What slanders could they come up with for my Lizzie, who is so much not one of them that I’m surprised they all came from the same planet, which they probably didn’t.
Honestly, I’ve been sitting here for the last ten minutes trying to think of worse accusations the wingnut Right could make against my Lizzie. So far, I’ve drawn a blank. Then again, I’m not as creative as the likes of Rush Limbaugh.
Here’s the thing: Elizabeth Warren (sigh) is the polar opposite of both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. The current Prez and the former Sec’y of State would say or do pretty much anything to maintain their respective toeholds in the game. Dig: Clinton voted for Georgey-boy Bush’s Iraq resolution. And Obama loaded up his administration with so many Goldman Sachs unindicted conspirators that the investment bank now holds its company picnic in the Rose Garden.
Much as I loathe those developments, that’s how people stay in the game if they want to become/remain POTUS.
Thus far, my sweet baby Lizzie appears to be incapable of such machinations.
If, by some weird turn of events, she became the boss of this holy land, she’d spend her entire four years fighting just to keep her head above water. That is, the muddy, sludgy, slimy liquid that passes for water in which Tories, crypto-racists, gun lust-ers, and rabid Christianists prefer to swim.
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For all Elizabeth Warren’s fine and good intentions, she wouldn’t get a thing done. Nothing.
I like her better as a senator.
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Fetal Positions
You’re missing something if you haven’t read Neil Steinberg’s new blog Every Goddamn Day.
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In today’s post, he recounts bumping into Joe Scheidler, the national director of the Pro-Life Action League, on Madison Street in downtown Chicago late Monday afternoon. Scheidler was participating in the PLAL’s annual summer demo, during which they carry placards featuring huge enlargements of aborted fetuses.
I recall running into the PLAL-ers any number of times when I lived in Chi. One July day I was stopped at a red light on Wacker Drive next to the then-Sears Tower and an anti-abortion demonstrator standing on the center island put his fetal hamburger picket sign right in front of my windshield.
“Get that mtherfking thing out of my face,” I hollered as I reached out the window and tried to rip it out of his hand. He dangled it just out of my grasp as if he were toying with a cat.
“You’re a sick prick,” I yelled. I had been looking forward to eating lunch and the sign had pretty much taken my appetite away. Believe me, you don’t want to be the poor soul who messes with my lunch.
Never Mess With My Lunch
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The guy responded, “God bless you.”
“I didn’t sneeze, idiot,” I cleverly riposted.
Then I thought, damn it, I’m all bent out of shape and he’s still standing their with that religious zombie smirk on his face. The light changed and I peeled away. I never did eat lunch that day.
Anyway, here’s the exchange Steinberg had with Joe Scheidler (all sic):
“You have to admit, that being against abortion is a religious scruple,” I [Steinberg] said.
“I wouldn’t say, ‘scruple.'” he replied. “It’s in the Bible, part of the Ten Commandments: ‘Thou shall not kill.'”
“….a person,” I added.
“A baby is a person,” he said.
“A fetus isn’t a person,” I parried. “I wouldn’t want to take one to the movies.”
“The mom could go to the movies,” Joe countered.
Steinberg concludes his piece with a well-deserved indictment against the so-called pro-choice movement. If you’re “pro-choice” you’re not gonna like it. And you shouldn’t. And I hope it moves you to action.
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