Love the Warrior, Hate the War -or why Tracy needs to go to bed before midnight.

It's midnight and while I would usually be in bed, Lars and I have decided to skip work tomorrow to protest the visit of President Bush, Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice to our fair city. Contrary to the popular belief that the whole of Utah is filled with right-winged automatons...okay A LOT of Utah is filled with such dudes and dudesses, but in Salt Lake City we have the pleasure of leaning farther to the left than makes the rest of the state comfortable. It's kind of nice.
Living in a state where the "right" always wins can be challenging to the mind and the spirit, so we take the little triumphs when we can.
You wouldn't, or maybe you would believe how uncomfortable this makes people. They are thrown into such a motherfucking tizzy that you'd think we'd gone in the wayback machine to those horrible Bill Clinton days (remember when we had a president who could form complete sentences, could understand the complexities of foreign and domestic policy and answer questions directly, concisely and with charisma...even while getting a blow job?) I'm getting off point, but I always get sad remembering those days. The good ol' Clinton administration. There was never any of this bullshit about "respecting the office of the president" spewing from the mouths of these right wing jackals back then. But, that was a different time, they're quick to point out. We're at war now. Yes, we are and it's a fucking pointless war lining some very greedy pockets.
So, yeah, back to my earlier point. Why do Republicans always need to play the role of the victim? Aren't they supposed to be the "tough guys" here and like aren't the guys they voted for in charge? I mean, Donald Rumsfeld's finger is on the button, not mine. So, how does my voice offend you? How does my protesting tomorrow, or my writing this blog do anything to you? If you don't like me or my point of view, great, don't read my fucking blog. If you don't like my politics, don't try to drive your car thru downtown tomorrow for lunch. But, if I hear one more person lay down the law that I can't hate this war and all it stands for, but still care about the troops, I'm going to be forced to put a boot up their ass. It is the American way after all. I'm not a terrorist and my opinion about George Bush hasn't created any terrorists. I mean, that whole argument is so disturbing and weak and flawed and not based on any sort of reality, facts or experience. It's just some more bullshit that someone pulled out of their ass and got all their friends to repeat over and over like a broken fucking record. "Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. Cut and run. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Pretty soon the whole fucking country's going to be chasing liberals around like their turtle-necked wives with axes and screaming, "I ain't gonna hurtcha Wendy, I'm just going to bash. your. fucking. brains. in." And when Scatman comes to save us, he's just gonna get shot.
Fuck.