Don’t mourn, boys, organize

March 10, 2011March 10, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 27 Comments

Well, the Repugs in Cheddarland bent over backwards to admit that union-busting has nothing to do with money and everything to do with power and croaked collective bargaining for public workers’ unions. Lovely.

The working stiffs in Wisconsin have shown tremendous courage and staying power so far — it will be interesting to see how they respond to this latest shameless attack on labor. I’ll cast around a bit for more information and if I unearth any means of showing support that doesn’t involve jetting to Madison and giving Scott Walker a kick in the nuts, I’ll pass it along.

Speaking of people who need a swift shot to the ball bag, IRA supporter Peter King (R-Car Bomb) got one from Rep. Keith Ellison (D-Minn.) as the insane Islamophobe King began his despicable hearings into whether all Muslims are killer robots. Good for Ellison, and shame on King, as if the dizzy sonofabitch would even recognize the state.

He’s white, but not quite right

March 8, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments

Shoes for industry! — You can't be charged with littering if there's no litter in the box. That's the Turk's story, and he's sticking to it.

In our latest episode of Guerrilla Theatre (Feline Overlords Edition), Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein demonstrates the Republican technique for thinking outside the box. Stare to the hard right long enough and something is bound to come to you. (Hint: It used to smell like half-baked Alaska, but now it’s more like an Easy-Bake Oven Mitt.)

Gadhafi my lawn, you young punks!

February 25, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

However you spell him, Col. Moammar Gadhafi appears to have a serious case of the brain cramp going on. Long thought to be as crazy as the proverbial shithouse rat, he’s backed into a corner in Tripoli and vowing to fight to the end, whatever that may be.

McClatchy offers an interesting capsule glimpse of “The King of Kings,” and it seems that if he were just a teensy bit loonier and a skosh dumber, why, he could be a House Republican from Colorado or perhaps a candidate for the presidency of the United States.

A late review

February 24, 2011February 24, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments

Good Lord. Did Donald Rumsfeld play Jon Stewart like a harp or what? We watch “The Daily Show” a day late via streaming Innertubes and that shit was painful to see, like watching a mean cat play with a sick mouse. I haven’t seen a contemptuous beat-down like that since Darth Cheney flogged John Edwards in their vice-presidential debate. A bunch of us watched that one-sided pissing match at a faux Vegas beanery during Interbike and there just wasn’t enough beer and tequila to make us think the lefty was getting the job done.

Meanwhile, the price of regular unleaded shot up a dime per gallon between Monday evening and Thursday afternoon. Blending light, sweet crude with the blood of Libyan revolutionaries is apparently a pricey endeavor.

Pimps up, hos down

February 21, 2011February 21, 2011 ~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 30 Comments

Today, Turkish (a.k.a. Turkenstein, The Turkinator, Mighty Whitey, Big Pussy, et al.) and Miss Mia Sopaipilla present a bit of guerrilla theater illustrating the two-tiered system being forced upon us by the oligarchs.

The Turk’ represents the moneyed elites (fat, white, enjoying the view from the penthouse) while Mia portrays the downtrodden proletariat (of color, hunkered down in the shabby basement of the economy, yearning for the bright light of freedom from oppression).

Now and then the Turk’ reaches down and gives her a swat, just ’cause he can. She puts up with it for a while, then casts off her chains, pins back her ears and chases the big capitalist bastard round and round the house until he accedes to her demands for equal access to the litter box, the occasional half-sardine and the Tower of Meower, which is to be designated The Turkintower or Mia Mountain depending upon which of them is in residence at the time.

At no point does the deficit come up for discussion.