My apologies to REM, another lyrics redo

(To the tune of, obviously, Losing My Religion.)

Oh, my, my ratings
are lower than before
But you cannot see
The lengths that I will go to
Only PNAC can foresee
Oh no I've said too much
I've set it up

That's me with the backdrop
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my comprehension
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard God speaking
I think he told me to invade
I think I thought I saw Saddam.

Karl Rove's whispers
Every waking hour I
hear Dick Cheney's orders
Trying to keep his eye on me
Like I'm a dumb lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no I've said too much
I've set it up

Consider this, consider this,
The end of my presidency
Consider this the slip that brought me
To my knees,
I failed

All my Oedipal fantasies have
Come crashing down
and now I've said too much

I thought that I heard God speaking
I think he told me to invade
I think I thought I saw Saddam.

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That's me with the backdrop
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my comprehension
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard God speaking
I think he told me to invade
I think I thought I saw bin Laden.

But that was just a dream.
Try, fly, employ, destroy,
That was just a dream, just a dream, just a neocon dream.

The new Star-Spangled Banner

Oh, say can you see by the white phosphorous light
that so shamefully fell as Fallujah was sleeping.

Whose planes flew overhead on those perilous nights?
O'er the desert, who watched as Iraqis died screaming?

And the white chemical glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.

Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free
And the home of the brave?

An open letter to the mainstream media.

I only used to watch cable news out of necessity, supplementing it with international and alternative news outlets. Network/cable news had mostly stopped doing its job and instead settled for "reporting" talking points of the current administration. It was so disheartening to see the disparity between international and national news, and to see important issues be effectively and quickly spun away and/or lost among the hubbub of the latest missing young woman or spousal murder case.

However, I have seen a change in most of the media during the last week. What I've seen from many correspondents makes me think of the "journalism" I've heard and read about that used to exist--when the media was on the side of the people and wasn't afraid to question, investigate, and speak up for the American people when their government failed them. I thank those of you who have been doing this in the face of this national disgrace, the extent of which must be laid bare, as horrific as it is and will continue to be.

I respectfully and urgently ask you to continue to speak up bravely and honestly on behalf of an American public that is quickly realizing that we are on our own, that many of us have been cruelly tricked, that our willingness to believe in the basic goodness of people (even politicians) has been exploited and used against us, and that, finally, we are frightened. It's not terrorist attacks or even natural disasters that are the biggest threat to our country and to us as individuals. It is this corrupt and indifferent administration. We fear for our own country. And we fear there is nothing we can do to save it.

Please help us. The powers that be ridicule idealism, hope, and integrity, but I for one do not want to lose hope, nor do I wish to see millions of other American hearts and spirits broken. Thank you for your fine work these past few difficult days.

Sincerely,

The Bitchy Blonde

Bring it on, said Chickenhawk Shrub. More Fear Factor, says the American public

Today's bitchometer rating: 5 -- bitch going nuclear

Hooo boy! The Big Desert Blood Party's still a'rockin, ain't it?

Fourteen marines and a civilian interpreter got blown away today by a roadside bomb in Iraq. That's 43 troops in the last 10 days, dead in the service of the Kabal's nefarious cause. We're quickly approaching 1900, gals and guys, and that doesn't even take into account civilians, soldiers from other countries, and colonialist employees...oops, I mean civilian contractors.

And a journalist was found shot to death, bringing the total number of media employees killed to 64. Ah well. Screw them anyway, goddamned liberal troublemakers. All they ever do is stir the shit anyway. Bad for morale, don't ya know? Maybe if the numbers keep rising, those reporters will finally go back to the U.S. where they belong and let the PENTAGON tell us what's really going on. Yup, that's what we need. An even more centralized, authoritarian news source. The government knows what's best for us anyway, right?

Not that red-blooded America is getting anything close to news anyway. What passes for "media" is too busy "reporting" on the creationism-in-schools debate, the Natalee Holloway story, and the nonlethal plane crash in Toronto. What the hell happened to KKKarl? Where's the debate over the Bolton appointment? Bush couldn't get his way by consensus, so Little Lord Pissypants (thank you, unremembered member of DU, for that lovely lovely nickname) just did what the fuck he wanted to do anyway. Are we now eliminating even the appearance of dissent? Oh, and the Iraq thing? I guess the MSM has decided the public's tired of that old story, and numbers don't mean anything, right? WMDs? So last year's news.

So they'll continue to find a teacher sex scandal to cover ad nauseum, or a missing pregnant (white) woman...that'll keep us distracted from all that boring stuff. You know, like how our civil liberties are being stripped away from us while we gape at the latest Fear Factor or Holloway/Smart/Peterson drama. Or how Idiot Boy and his crew are installing their fascist regime, post by post, appointment by appointment.

Well, I guess I'm almost to the point where I'd like to say, "Bring it on." Bring on your Naziesque regime, bleed the barely-existent middle class dry, take away control over our own bodies and movements. Suppress dissent until you can't even hear a whisper of complaint anymore. Bring it on, and we'll deserve it if we don't stop it now. Everyone who voted for ShrubCo, everyone who didn't vote at all, and everyone who didn't say a goddamned thing, who just bent over or got on their knees...you asked for it, and you'll get what you asked for. I just wish you hadn't dragged the rest of us with you. I never asked for this, but I'm gonna get it up the ass just like those of you who did.

So fuck you, with your W stickers and the monstrosities you drive. Fuck you and your hateful homophobia, racism, and plain old willful ignorance. It'll at least be some comfort to see some of you suffering along with the rest of us, and everyone (you included) will know that you're the ones to blame. But you'll never admit it, will you? That's another thing you fundigelicals, you rednecks, you lily-white greedmonsters all have in common with each other and with your Fuerher and his crew.

Celebrity Deathmatch: Goldberg v. Stewart

Today's bitchometer rating: 3--satisfactorily bitchy

After seeing Jon Stewart open up a can of snarky irony on conservative whiner Bernard Goldberg on last night's Daily Show, I fell in love with the man (Stewart, not Goldberg) all over again. Goldberg's latest tome o'complaints, 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America, drew uncharacteristic ire from Stewart, who recognized the book for what it is: irrelevant tripe. Goldie came out complaining about the way "the culture" has deteriorated in the last few years. Hmmm. Seems like I've read this book before. Alan Bloom, anyone? Jonnie Boy noted that elitists have been bitching likewise since the days of good old Aristotle and quickly called Goldie out, questioning chiefly not the content of the book (though Stewie definitely took him down for that too) but rather its entire premise. Its raison d'etre, in other words:

Goldberg: We're in the middle of a culture war...

Stewart: But it seems fake to me! The culture war seems fake to me.

Jon (rightly) pointed out to the initially-protesting, finally-bewildered Goldie that "culture" is made by those in power--not in Hollywood, but in DC. That's where Goldie ought to look if he's got problems with American "culture." Stewart managed to be hardass and freaking hilarious at the same time. When Goldberg started preaching, "Once upon a time, a drunk in a bar..." Jon interrupted with "Don't talk about my father!" But Jon let the frustrated Goldie continue digging into what would become, in my opinion, one of the funniest exchanges of the interview:

Goldberg: Once upon a time, not too many years ago, a drunk in a bar wouldn't use the F-word. Now, he may be your pal, but Chevy Chase goes to the Kennedy Center in Washington DC at a gala where people are wearing tuxedos and gowns and calls the president of the United States a 'dumb...blank.'

Stewart: Once upon a time, Thomas Jefferson fucked slaves!

Yowza. Big applause and whoops for my man. Then,

Stewart: What I'm suggesting is, yes, Chevy Chase used a bad word on TV at the Kennedy Center, but segregation no longer exists. Slavery is gone. Like, that's real culture and real vulgarity. This is just words!

Goldberg: Every time...(interrupted by lingering applause for Stewart) Okay, just words, let's see if everybody claps over just words. Let's say we had a, a Bigot Channel, okay?

Stewart: We do!

Zing! Jon's audience cheered and jeered, as did I; even sitting at home alone with my dogs, I cheered out loud and loved Jon with all my heart.

Until next time,
The Bitchy Blonde

Rome is burning

We didn't start the fire
No we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

First blood

Today's bitchometer reading: 2 -- pleasantly bitchy

So I'm finally blogging. I guess. Why I decided to do this, I don't know. I usually do all I can in the summertime to avoid any type of writing, limiting myself to what's got to be done: grocery lists, checks, email, message board posts. When fall rolls around again (and it will do, all too quickly), the semester will begin and the compulsory, painful, graduate school writing regimen will commence.

Actually, I lied. I do know why I'm doing this. Because I've gotta get used to writing when I don't feel like it. I have one year until I have to find a Real Job. And I know what my chances are, statistically, of being able to write for a living, but I gotta try. And so I keep in the back of my mind memories of gawdawful jobs I've had, the kind of jobs that ruined my weekends because I knew I had to go back on Monday. Customer Service Rep. Customer Service Specialist. Customer Service/Billing Specialist. Data Entry Clerk. Administrative Assistant. Evening Receptionist. Those memories are my negative motivation. But I've got positive motivations, too, plenty of them. Images of the Seattle skyline, fantasies of being involved in politically active groups, of walking downtown in a real city and of weekend music festivals and dog parks.

Okay, so this is a weak start, but it's a start. I've learned from grad school that you've got to get something on paper, even if it's crap. So here's my first blood, my introduction to blog. Next time, I'll start with a topic and see where it goes. This might even be fun!

Cheers,
The Bitchy Blonde

Blog is being born...