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Christmas at McKinney’s

Christmas Eve is a time when many people throw around words like magical and miracles. It’s a time when people stop taking stock of their own world and venture out to meet the needs of others. That being said, I was never much of a Christmas person. My father was a drunk and my mother was so scared of angering him that my version of a good Christmas was one in which neither one of us got beaten. That all changed on Christmas Eve of 2016. See, here in Salem Heights, MI, we don’t have much in the way of entertainment. Our town has a population of 400 and after the tree lighting ceremony on the 5th of every December, people scatter to wherever their families live and we end up with about 87 residents every Christmas. Most of them stay home Christmas Eve, but people like me, Tom Lloyd, Burt Arnold, and Chester Moran all head to McKinney’s Bar. It’s a real small place on the edge of the town limit run by a good man by the name of H.T. McKinney. Much like Tom, Burt, Chester, and myself, H.T. doesn’t have family to go back to. His wife died in a horrible car accident back in ’07 and ever since then he lights a fire in the fireplace at McKinney’s and allows us old timers to drink for free, and share our friendship for the holidays.

At any rate, in 2016, Christmas Eve fell upon us and Salem Heights thinned out. I made my way to McKinney’s where H.T had already stoked the fire so it was burning hot and bright. Chester was in the corner of the 10 stool bar and Tom was next to him staring into his customary 12 year old scotch.

“Merry Christmas, Ted!” H.T. yelled as I walked through the door.

“Merry Christmas, H! Thanks as always for the hospitality. That wind sure is blowing a storm out there, I’d hate to be stuck in this weather.” At the sound of my voice, H.T’s little eight year old Shih-Tzu Tessa came barking around the corner. “Merry Christmas to you too, Tessa Bo Bessa!” I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small piece of jerky. After all the years of coming here, I have learned that if you don’t come with treats for the beast, she will pretend you don’t exist. I watched Tessa trot back behind the bar with the jerky hanging out of her mouth.

“How’s it hanging, slick?” Chester chided from the corner.

“Ask your wife, she knows.” I responded. Chester cackled and returned to his beer. Chester had never been married and as far as I know, had never had what us old timers would call a steady. In fact, if you had told me that he had never seen a woman in a state of undress, I wouldn’t be surprised. Chester was married to the bottom of whatever beer stein sat in front of him. He wasn’t exactly an alcoholic, but I think it’s fair to say that he had a habit of confronting his demons by drinking them.

“Merry Christmas, Ted, and Bah Humbug!” That was Tom.

“Merry Christmas to you as well, Tom, I see you are in peak holiday spirit.” We both laughed at this and then I sat down next to him.

“What’ll ye be drinking tonight, Lad?’  H.T. said in his faux Irish accent.

“Rum and coke, my friend, seems like a good night for that.”

Outside the wind started howling and the snow began to fall. These Northern Michigan winters are no joke and the weather service was calling for at least a foot and a half of the white stuff plus 40 mile an hour winds.

“Jesus,” Tom started, “that wind sounds like my ex wife in bed.”

“Who are you kidding Lloyd! The only sound your ex wife ever made in bed with you was laughter.”

“Fuck you, Chester at least I’ve been in bed with a woman” Tom retorted.

Chester cackled again and then returned to his beer.

H.T. brought me my drink and topped it off with a handshake. “It’s good to see you, Ted.”

“Jesus, H, you act like you haven’t seen me every night for the last 15 years.”

“I know, Ted. It’s just good to see you.” For a moment, a brief, startling moment, H.T looked like the saddest man I had ever laid eyes on. “Now drink up ya asshole!” Suddenly his eyes were filled with life again.



As the night went on, stories were shared, laughter filled the room, and at one point Chester made his case to be the next Josh Groban by standing on the bar and belting out the worst version of O, Holy Night that the world has ever been subjected to. He closed his performance by accidentally stepping off the bar and crashing to the floor cackling the entire time. The hours passes and first Chester left and then Tom left leaving H.T. and I alone with Tessa the Barbarian Shih-Tzu. H.T. brought me another drink and once again that look of unending sadness filled his eyes.

“H…what’s going on with you?”

“Ted, you started out as a customer, then you became a friend, now you are the closest thing to family I have.”

“I appreciate that, H, I feel the same way. What’s going on?”

“This is the last Christmas Eve at McKinneys.”

“What? What are you going on about, H? Is it money problems? We can help with that!”

“It’s not just money, Ted. Yeah I’m sixteen thousand in the hole, but I was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer last week. They think I’ve got a couple months left.”

My jaw hit the ground. There are some things in life that are so unexpected or so jarring that words fail to come and this was one of them.

“Jesus, H. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“I just want to spend the last few hours of Christmas Eve in this bar with you and Tessa. I’m going turn the closed sign on and we can drink in peace. Not that anyone ever comes in here after 9 on Christmas Eve, but still. I do need to ask one favor of you, Ted.”

“Anything, H. You name it I’ll do it.”

“Will you take care of Tessa for me? I wish I could leave the bar to you as well, but as soon as I’m gone, the bank is going to take it. I’m sorry, Ted.”

“Of course I will take Tessa. Don’t worry about the bar, it’s not the building that matters, just the memories that took place inside.”

Almost immediately after I spoke, the bar door was flung open. A man in a white suit and long white hair stood in the doorway.

“I apologize, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything, it’s just the weather outside is not conducive to driving and I saw the lights on. Is there any chance of staying until the storm dies down a little?”

I could see H silently curse himself for not shutting the bar down sooner. Then, a softness appeared in his eyes.

“Absolutely you can join us, friend. Merry Christmas, here at McKinney’s the drinks are free on Christmas Eve.”

“I thank you so much for your kindness. Although I will take a water if you don’t mind, I’m not one to indulge in drink.”

H got the man his water and watched as he sat at the far end of the bar. He did not speak nor did he focus his gaze on us. Instead, he seemed intent on staring a hole through the water glass.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, H moved back down to my end of the bar and we talked the talk of two men with no care in the world. After close to an hour and a half, the stranger spoke up at the end of the bar. “Excuse me sir, I thank you for your hospitality. With that being said, I need to speak to you, alone.”

H shot me a glance and I felt my muscles tighten. My fight or flight was suddenly on high alert.

“You can speak freely here friend, anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my friend here.”

Without warning, the man’s arm shot out and rested on H’s shoulder. H.T.’s eyes widened for a moment and then whatever had taken place between them, passed.

“Ted, I need to talk to this man. I can’t explain why, but he’s right, it needs to be alone. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure? I can go out back and wait just to make sure you’ll be okay. We don’t know this guy.”

“It’s okay, my friend. I need you to trust me. Go on home and I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you brother.” As he said that last part, a look spread across H’s face that I had never seen before. It filled me with instant sadness though I knew not why.

“Love you too, I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow morning.” With that I walked out of McKinney’s and into the cold, unforgiving night.



The next morning I trudged through the snow to McKinney’s and was shocked to find the County Coroner’s vehicle there. I walked up to Hiram the coroner and asked him what had happened.

“We got a call this morning around 8 a.m that H.T. McKinney had just passed away. Damn shame, especially on Christmas Morning.”

I stumbled slowly towards the door my mind reeling. How was this possible? I had just seen him a few hours before. Then my mind went to the stranger. Something had happened, an argument or maybe even a robbery. Maybe he was killed in cold blood. I wheeled around and asked Hiram what he thought the cause of death was.

“Honestly, Ted? I think he died in his sleep. They found him in a chair by the fire sitting there peacefully. He did not suffer.”

I stumbled back towards the bar trying to reconcile my emotions with the information I had just been given. The next hour was filled with paperwork and condolences and things no one ever wants to deal with. Finally I was alone in the bar with Tessa who seemed a step slower. I guess it’s true that dogs are more aware than we give them credit for. After mourning in front of the fireplace and crying into a bottle of rum, Tessa and I left the bar. I walked around the front where the fresh snow hadn’t been violate by boots yet. Tessa was bounding by my side eager to get back into the warmth of a house. As I turned the corner to the far front of the bar, I heard a voice calling after me.

“Excuse me, sir!”

I turned around to see the man from the night before standing behind me.

“I am sorry for your loss, sir. It is my duty though, to give you this.” The man with the white suit and the long white hair handed me an envelope. I opened it and inside was the deed to the bar as well as sixteen thousand dollars. I looked up to ask the man what this was all about, but he was gone.

That was ten years ago, since then I have taken over the ownership of McKinney’s Bar and in the spirit of my friend H.T., drinks are free every Christmas Eve. As for the man in white, I don’t know who or what he was, it took me a long time to admit that I wasn’t crazy, because when we were in front of the bar the day H.T. died, he didn’t even leave a bootprint in the snow. It was almost like he was never there at all.


The Reflecting God

If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. – 1 John 4:20

My dear Evangelical friends: I hope the following words reach your eyes, and I hope they offend you to no end. I hope that by the last sentence, you are foaming at the mouth and flexing your arthritis ridden knuckles in preparation for the Hallelujah beat down you are going to type in response. Why, you may ask? Because you deserve to be offended. You deserve to be offended, insulted, put out, put upon, and verbally smacked like a mouthy child. You followers of modern prophets like Mike “250k Grandstand” Pence, Steve “I speak words” Bannon, and Ted “Dildos offend me” Cruz, deserve to be ridiculed in public wherever you go. Your fake Christianity fools only those too dumb to know any better (roughly 35% of the country give or take a few). Thankfully for you, I thrive on offending assholes. And you, are the biggest browneyes of the bunch. Now, I hear you asking what you possibly could have done to make a Heathen such as I, take aim at you. Honestly, at this point all you have to do is breathe and that’s reason enough for me. That being said, for the sake of length and discussion, let’s say that the reason is that you have perverted an entire faith in the span of about 18 months. You talk about love and tolerance and yet your actions speak of hate and seclusion. You talk about America needing to find it’s moral center and returning to respecting one another and finding joys in the diversity of America. Then you back a man who is none of those. Donald Trump is your reflecting God. He is the face of your fake bullshit religion and from this day forth you will be forever known as the frauds and charlatans you are. Your speeches about god and love will be laughed at and ignored. Your attempts to say that this is Christianity will be endlessly mocked by those of us who know better. More importantly, when your god falls, and his presidency is nothing but a pile of ashes, you will have nowhere to run. Your sins will be laid bare and the scarlet letter of hypocrisy will be forever tattoed onto your forehead. While you preach the word of a megalomaniac, he is busy mocking Puerto Ricans as they struggle to survive after back to back hurricanes. As you attempt to speak about love and kindness (which you know nothing about) your god calls black men who are peacefully protesting inequality “Sons of bitches” and “traitors.” Meanwhile he speaks in front of a group of neo nazis and homophobes and says “It’s so nice to be around friends. So many friends.” You are the lowest form of human. ISIS is evil and should be eradicated, but at least they own who they are. They make no false speeches about love and acceptance when they don’t believe in it. They don’t shake the hands of the people while silently prepping to stab them in the back. You are nothing but low level talentless snake oil salesmen. You prey upon those who have been stricken desperate by your shitty unethical policies. You sell them a cure and make them believe that you and only you can help them. Then you sit back in your six homes, watching the peasants stumble around trying to find some sort of relief.

Thankfully for those of us who know better, history is full of bloviating religionists who thought they alone had the answer. Power is nothing in the hands of those who corrupt and abuse it. As the ringmasters of the past have fallen, so shall you. Your time is limited. Has been since the day you sold your soul to the devil. Wage your war now, but understand that in the end, you will be surrounded by the empty votes of those you thought disposable. You will find yourself alone in a sea of angry retaliation. Let us see how courageous you are when the skies open up and the storm comes for you. You wanted god, and you got him in all his orange glory.


Foghorn Leghorn and the Swastika of Doom

Well holy fuck. I step away from life for a few weeks, and y’all throw a massive Nuremburg rally without me. You even threw in (tiki) torches and “Death to Jews” chants to boot. Predictably, it blew up in your face and now one of your major mouthpieces is crying like a bitch and worried that he’s going to jail. Well no shit Sherlock. This is what happens when you throw a rally where one of your dumb as a rock supporters runs over a counter protester with a car. This isn’t even the big portion of this story. The big part of this story is that people are actually upset that your “freedom of speech” was interrupted by counter protesters who don’t take kindly to being told they should be killed off. “But CJ they have a constitutional right!” To a degree, yes they do. If they wanted to grab some signs and walk around chanting White power or Sieg Heil, great, they have every right to do so. When you strap on your firearms and you walk through the streets with torches chanting “Death to Jews”, your freedom of speech suddenly turns into a threat. Don’t believe me? Try this one on Whitey: Imagine if last Friday night it wasn’t white nazi’s or the Klan carrying guns and torches yelling “Death to Jews” but the Nation of Islam carrying guns and yelling “Death to Christians.” Don’t you dare tell me that “Oh, it’s freedom of speech, we’d be good with that.” Bullshit, you idiots would be demanding they be jailed on threats of terrorism. I’ve noticed a trend with you suckfishing whale dicks. Remember when BLM held a rally in 2016 and a cop posted on Facebook “when you encounter these protests, remember you have 3 pedals on your car. Push the right one all the way down.” Or how about this gem from Troy Baker president of the Police Union in Santa Fe when he posted a picture of a jeep running over protesters with the tagline: “All Lives Splatter nobody cares about your protest.” In 2015 a rally in Ferguson was disrupted when some asshole plowed into the crowd and hit a 16 year old girl. Not enough? Okay. How about in Southern Illinois when an SUV driving douchebag drove into a crowd of protesters yelling “ALL LIVES MATTER!” “But CJ, BLM is a terrorist organization.” AND FUCKING NAZIS AREN’T??? Are you fucking kidding me? It’s okay to mow down black lives matter protesters, but punch a nazi in the face and suddenly you’re spitting in the face of the constitution?

When I was a kid, I used to sit in my room surrounded by Batman and Captain America comic books. Even at the age of 6 before I knew what a fucking nazi was, I knew they were bad people. If they weren’t, Captain America wouldn’t keep kicking the shit out of their red skulled leader. Back then, it was common knowledge that nazi’s were to be spit on and looked at with contempt. I had a friend in grade school whose grandfather used to tell us stories about World War II. In every single story he finished up by telling us that Nazi’s must never be given a voice again. Fast forward thirty years and suddenly we are defending Nazi’s beating the shit out of people with pipes, open carrying while chanting “death to Jews” and saying that running over a protester was “justified.” We now respond to horrors with deflection. “But Obama did it too” or “But BLM blocks roadways” or “Not every nazi is a bad person.” When I used to slam Obama for the shit he did, you know what I got? “But Bush did it too” or “What about Dick Cheney” or my favorite “The teabaggers get away with it.” You know who is to blame for last Friday’s bullshit? You. Me. All of us. Because we deflect. We refuse to admit the truth to ourselves and would much rather deflect elsewhere. This country has a sickness and it’s not because of gays, or blacks, or even Donald Trump. For 241 years, this country has been built on the backs of those deemed inferior. Every generation has had a civil rights movement of sorts. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Whether it was Indians, or the Irish, or Women, or African Americans, or Muslims, or Italians and Asians, or Gays, this country has always found an enemy to pin our faults on. The fact of the matter is that we are ALL responsible. Instead of casting blame on others, we need to look at ourselves. We talk about American values, but we don’t uphold them. We hide behind a piece of paper that some claim is a living breathing document and others claim is set in stone. Sound familiar? I believe the bible has that issue as well. Allowing violence is not an acceptance of the 1st Amendment and it is morally reprehensible. That being said, allowing intimidation and threats under the guise of freedom is equally reprehensible.

People talk about “Make America Great Again.” Truth is, from a social standpoint, America has never been great. Sure we rose from the dust faster than any other empire in the history of the world, but at what cost? We claim American exceptionalism and yet we threw people into concentration camps as well. We claim American tolerance and yet 70 years ago we had black soldiers coming home from WWII and being forced to sit in separate areas and use separate bathrooms because the very people they just defended from the Nazi’s didn’t want them there. We cry about the tearing down of Confederate statues but refuse to learn any of the lessons that war carried. “But you’re re-writing history!!” You know what, after what happened on Friday night, it’s apparent we aren’t learning from it either.

In God We Obfuscate

Last week, a photo surfaced from the White House of a bunch of Evangelical pastors laying hands on Donald Trump in the White House. One prominent evangelical leader immediately tweeted out the image with the caption: “President Trump is bringing God back to America.” So this is God, huh? It’s funny, during my many readings of the bible, I came to understand Jesus as one who didn’t turn his back on anyone, including the people that wanted to kill him. In political terms, Jesus is the kinda guy Trump Supporters love to bash. I can guarantee you, when Jesus gave his sermon on the mount, he didn’t say “Love thy God and kill the gays. While we’re at it, let’s denigrate white people (this was the middle east after all, it would be counter productive to denigrate brown people).” Whether you like to hear it or not, Christianity (as with all organized religions) has always been about control. It’s been the single greatest tactic of division in human history. Hell, look at all the wars started in the “name of God.” At least in the Middle Ages you knew who the enemy was because the Vatican made it quite clear. It was not a good time to be a witch or a brown person (has it ever been?) These days though, Evangelicals have turned Christianity into some really weird reality television version of Magic The Gathering or a role playing game. All you have to do is watch one of those doofy televangelists at work. “Are you feeling spiritually drained? Call this number now, make a $10 donation, and we will send you a bottle of prayer water.” Or my personal favorite from Benny Hinn: “Ward off energy draining demonic attacks with my prayer cloth.” Seriously, there was a time I used to think God was Colonel Sanders from Kentucky Fried Chicken, now I’m beginning to think he’s actually Gandalf from Lord of the Rings.  Half the time these daffy fuckers talk, I think I’m in the middle of a Champions of Norrath quest.

I guess my point to all this, is that Evangelicals have muddied the Christian waters so much, that it’s impossible to tell who the enemy is these days. Some days its the gays other times its brown people. According to Pat Robertson, last week it was anyone who criticized Trumpenstein. It’s almost like these people have no idea what they are talking about and are just making it up on the fly. But hey, at least in times of need they can surround you and put hands on you. The only way that sounds appealing is if there’s a happy ending. “In the name of the father, the son, and the holy load.” Too sacrilegious? I don’t care. You lost your ability to be faux outraged when you stood behind pastors like Joshua Feurstein when they went on live television and supported the terrorist attack in Orlando because the terrorists targeted gays. Enjoy Mike Pence while you can. You want salvation, and yet all you offer is confusion and division. The spotlight you are standing under may be warm and comfy right now, but it is starting to dim. When it finally burns out, you are going to wish you had a God on your side.

War No More

This morning I heard a man talk about the dire need for this country to bomb North Korea as they are “becoming a major threat.” I could only shake my head as the words tumbled out of his mouth. How long is it going to take? How many wars? How many needless deaths before this species finally understands? Anytime there is a problem, our first solution is to bomb the unholy fuck out of it. We are the first grade child who doesn’t get their way and starts to throw things. The human race talks peace and love, but it’s a charade. We are a tantruming race of war mongering children. Its in our DNA. How many wars have been fought since the dawn of the human? How many battles over meaningless specks of land? Leave Earth’s atmosphere and float in the blackness of space. An ocean that stretches so far and wide you cant even comprehend it. A stretch of darkness that should inspire greatness and highlight the fragility and rarity of human life, and yet, we ignore it. We fight for chunks of land that in 500 years no one will ever remember the reasons why. We look across the ocean and see people that look different than we do and immediately find hate instead of curiosity. We find anger in a terrorist attack that kills Americans, but find no pity when we drone bomb an innocent wedding. The problem is not war, it is hypocrisy. It is this misguided, foolish belief that our lives matter more than others. That somehow, our resident country is so much more important than anyone else’s. Our self importance is the same sham shared by the English, French, Spanish, and every other goddamn empire that grew out of the piles of dead bodies. When are we going to stop looking at the small picture and finally take a gaze at the whole?

Fuck it. You can have your wars. You can have your bloodshed and your guns. You can look at a person who is different than you and choose to find some fault. I’m not. Not anymore. This life is too short and too full of potential to spend playing armchair general. If war is your mantra, just understand that you are no different than the millions that have come before you. The ones who chose violence over life, war over peace, and hate over love. If you want too truly experience what it is to be human, try love for a change. Maybe it’s not as exciting or as adrenaline filled, but it also doesn’t leave families broken, widows grieving, or a pile of dead bodies in it’s wake.

Trumpty Dumpty Sat On A Wall

I am due to be up in 4 hours, and instead of sleeping, I find myself staring at this infernal screen wondering what kind of hideous forces have conspired to keep me up tonight. Every single time I close my eyes, I see Sarah Huckabee Sanders standing in front of me. One eye aimed slightly off center, and the other looking at god knows what. I never thought I’d say this in a million years, but I wish the human potato Sean Spicer would climb out of whatever bush he’s hiding in and save us all from this Goonies-esque fucking monster that has taken his place. Apparently the only qualification to be Trump’s press secretary is a willingness to yell incoherently and throw Alex Jones like facial expressions out into the cosmos. I shudder at the fact that right now, a whole bunch of babies are being born in this country whose first words will more than likely be “FAKE NEWS.” This is what happens when you allow Uncle Father’s to marry their Daughter Nieces. Yes, I just went there Trumptards. You are more than welcome to fire a few shots in return. By shots I mean insults just in case any of you brainiacs had fantasies of going all Rambo in a pizza joint. You ask why you should have to justify your support of this goofy haired wombat. My response is this: for years you nutballs have demanded that people like me justify our belief in not voting for our own oppression. Not fun now that the shoe is on the other foot is it? It’s okay though, I’m not going to make you answer. The last thing I’d want you to do is put your foot in your mouth and give yourself a horrendous case of athletes tongue. Instead I’m going to sit here and insult you endlessly, you hairless, dickless, turtles. If I had a dollar for every brain cell you idiots have in your head, I’d be on welfare. It takes a special kind of dumb to support someone who is going to fuck you six ways to Sunday. But hey, what do I know, I didn’t graduate from the Alex Jones School of Crackpots. Speaking of crackpots, I couldn’t figure out why Jeff Sessions looked so familiar until I saw an episode of King of the Hill. Suddenly Hank’s dad makes so much more sense. Now I know what you tools are thinking. “Why is this asshole making fun of us?” Simple. You deserve it. You run around yelling snowflake at anything or anyone that doesn’t drive a monster truck and wear overalls. This is hilarious considering the fact that the giant nutsack that you elected president happens to be the biggest snowflake of them all. He’s a $2 hooker in a ten thousand dollar suit. The man is one of the greatest carnival barkers in history, and you schmucks bought his sales pitch hook line and sinker. You know what’s making America great again? Nothing. We have officially become the passed out guy at the frat party that everyone draws permanent marker dicks on. The world is laughing at us because we have a 70 year old man child as our president.  “Oh sure, like you’re contributing anything productive.” I never said I was. At this point, I’m standing on the outside watching this train wreck with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a middle finger extended on the other. The only thing I had to lose this past election was the last shred of respect I had for the public.

Fucking hell, look what you bastards have gone and made me do. I’ve been so busy making fun of your sister wives and outhouse weddings that I forgot what my original point was. Have no fear though, this is the age of revisionist history, so as far as Im concerned, the last paragraph never happened. I’m just going to drag out my cardboard cutout of Sarah Huckabee Sanders and yell fake news for the next hour. That should pretty much cover it. By the way, how can you function with one eye looking straight ahead, and the other one looking at Neptune? God forbid I ever run into her in public. I can see it now: “Look me in the eyes and apologize!” Geez, I would if your other eye wasn’t too busy staring at the moon. Yeah I know, I took the low hanging fruit on that one but you know what? God is her guide so I’m sure he’ll lead her into paradise, provided her funky eyes don’t lead her into a tree first.

Well, there is nowhere for this piece to go but up at the current moment. I’m kinda thinking it won’t happen, but let’s give it a shot shall we? The whole point to this three paragraph insult, is to show that this whole calling people snowflakes thing is absolutely retarded. If any of you Tangerine Dream supporters are still reading, I’d imagine you are creating a list of insults to fire back. Which, is hardly surprising. After all, we have a sitting president who instead of actually leading, spends his time insulting people on twitter when they say things he doesn’t like. The leader of the United States is so thin skinned, that all you have to do is go on television and say something he disagrees with, and he has a meltdown. By your very definition, he fits the mold of a snowflake. To run around yelling “cry some more snowflake” when the very guy you supports has a temper tantrum every ten minutes is about as hypocritical and stupid as it gets. So before you get all “fuck you libtard snowflake” on me, just remember that I am doing nothing that your savior hasn’t already done every day since Inauguration Day.

The Downward Spiral of the Dumb Part 4: The Return of the Suckfish

Good morning weirdos! It’s been a long time since I’ve put together two Bastards pieces in under a week. I kinda feel dirty heh. Actually, that dirtiness I feel is in no thanks part to Republican state senator from Wisconsin Jesse Kremer. This genius actually threw out the following quote recently: “The Earth is 6,000 years old. That’s a fact!” My fucking gods. It takes an incredible amount of ignorance and stupidity to come to that conclusion. Then again, that’s apparently the new norm here in the United States of Ignorance. For the last few years, we have seen an astronomical rise in nutballs who believe the Earth is flat, and those who believe the Earth is anywhere from 4,000 to 6,000 years old. Dick Cheney has taken shits that are older than that. How is it possible to look out at things like fossils, the stars, mountains, even that Ten fucking thousand year old tree in Iceland and say that the world is only 6,000 years old?!? Are you fucking kidding me? Who are these fucking cretins? How do you get off being a public official and making decisions about education and science when you’re so goddamn doofy your beliefs don’t even allow the existence of dinosaurs? And who the fuck votes for these idiots? How can you in good conscience walk into a voting booth (I should end the sentence there but for lengths sake lets keep moving) and say to yourself: Wow, this guy thinks Jesus rode dinosaurs. Fuck yes he is going to make a fine decision maker. I sometimes wake up in the morning and feel like I’m in the middle of a Twilight Zone episode. A few years back, Ken Hamm (He of the amazingly weird Creation Museum fame) actually put out a video where he manhandled a banana and spouted off about how bananas are proof that evolution doesn’t exist. We actually live in an age where a guy can jerk off a banana on youtube and that is considered evidence. What a magical time to be alive.

As for the flat Earthers, holy hell, I want to party with you guys. Anyone that can come up with the idea that NASA is using holograms to convince us the world is round, is bound to have some damn good drugs on them. I’m really hoping that all these peeps are just folks who had a bad acid trip that never ended. “Jesus man, the Earth is Flat and the sun is unzipping itself! Christ, James, your mom turned into a dragon! Fuck NASA!” Or maybe we really live in a world that encourages this kind of dangerous stupidity. Personally, I’m putting the blame solely on the religious right. Here’s why: For years the religious right has cried out anytime they see a violation of their rights or their “free speech” and yet when they do it to other people, suddenly its okay. Evangelical pastors can come out on live fucking tv and say that their followers should beat/kill gays and it’s “religious freedom.” People decry the state of Kentucky using tax payer funds to build a goddamn Ark for Ken Hamm and his Creation Asylum, and suddenly its religious persecution. Seriously? You can go to church whenever you want, you can pray in your own home, you can even wear crosses around your neck in public. You’re right, that’s definitely persecution. Meanwhile, the rise in Neo Nazi membership here in the states has skyrocketed. Fuck the jews, right? By the way, if any of you swastika sporting dickheads comes across this, maybe you can answer a question for me. Why, if you hate Jews so much, do you dutifully follow the words of a…half Jew? I mean not for nothing, but that’s like me saying I hate black people yet running around preaching the words of  Barack Obama. I mean seriously, did you guys decide to get together in a room somewhere and say “Fuck Jews…well, except this one. He’s kinda cool.” I’m not even going to get started on the whole muslim thing. But yes, let’s talk about how Christians here are persecuted. When you are allowed to make education/science decisions based on a belief that is completely fucking wrong, you are not fucking persecuted.

Jesus fucking Christ I have completely lost my grip on this. You dingbats are so out there it’s not even funny anymore. It used to be. Shit, there was a time when a guy would come out and say that dinosaur bones were put here by the devil to lead people from god, and the country would laugh at him. Now it’s seemingly the other way around. A guy comes out and says the Earth is billions of years old and suddenly the response is: “Hey Craig, get a load of this wanker He thinks the Earth is billions of years old. Can you believe this guy??”

I used to love the movie Idiocracy. To me, it was an extreme version of what we are. Now, not only do I hate the movie, but I hate Mike Judge for making it. It’s only a matter of time before we start hearing “Welcome to Costco, I love you.” At that point, the Downward Spiral of the Dumb will be complete and the suckfish will have won.