Gautama H. Buddha on a flying zabuton, how does someone get this fucking stupid in just one lifetime?
Best argument for reincarnation I’ve ever seen.
We are in the moist and clammy paws of the Bizarro World Buddhists, and this slobbering eejit is their Dalai Lama. His Assholiness.
Speaking of the actual DL, there is absolutely no truth to the rumor that His Holiness has declined reincarnation, saying, “If Yosemite Samsāra over there keeps coming back, I’m giving it a miss.”
Much chin music among the chattering classics lately re: the hackneyed “his first 100 days” bushwa.
This is the ho, and also the hum.
In his first 100 minutes he took a giant shit on us and then wiped his ass with the Constitution.
We’re just waiting for him to come out of the toilet now, is what.
Maybe the old bastard nodded off in there. Smells like he died in there. Christ, light a match, can’t ya?
I see The Media have a couple new chew toys this morning — a brain-dead SecDef and a completely dead pope.
That should fill The Void for a nanosecond or two.
Now we await the various conclaves. If we see black smoke from the Pentagon, that means that SecDef Yog-Sothoth has burned his Signal passwords and has gone back to using NextDoor for all secure communications involving war plans, pub crawls, and no-strings hookups.
White smoke means that Baby Daddy Musk has sent him on ahead to set up shop on Mars.
Red smoke from the Office of the Vice President means that Hillbilly Boy has failed to convince his god that he had nothing to do with his pope’s death, even though he was one of the last people to see him alive.
Fwooosh! Straight From servicing Beelzebozo to serving Beelzebub in one seriously hot DeeCee minute. Not exactly upward mobility, is it? Sure as shit ain’t the golden escalator Beelzebozo rode down back in 2015, either. More like that elevator ride that Mickey Rourke took at the end of “Angel Heart.”
And the pope? Well … Dad was a ring-kisser, Mom was a Presbyterian, and I turned out to be neither. So I haven’t paid much attention to Holy Mother Church since 1978, when I was still a newspaperman in Bibleburg and we burned through a couple of popes in a month.
If I recall correctly, which is unlikely considering the circumstances, we had finished newspapering for the evening and had retired to Jinx’s Place for cocktails.
A late arrival burst in, as they will do, and told us the pope had just died.
“Catch up,” we replied. “That was last month.”
“That was the old guy,” our informant revealed. “This was the new guy.”
And soon we had a new new guy, to be dubbed “J2P2,” because back then newspaper people knew how to treat anyone who claimed to speak with God’s voice, whether they were in Vatican City or DeeCee.
We smashed the State yesterday. You’re welcome.
Herself and I were part of a crowd guesstimated in the thousands that piled into Civic Plaza for our local Hands Off! rally, taking a raucous stand against fascism.
We carpooled with two friends to the thing, and met up with a few others at the plaza. Frankly, I was not expecting a big turnout — the “high” temperature of 43° just missed the record low, set in 1983, by a single degree — but I was delighted to be proven unsmart as per usual.
In Bibleburg it was easy to think we were the only libtards in town, though we knew better; it just felt that way sometimes. As in almost always, especially during election years.
In Duck!Burg, we’re surrounded by fellow travelers — but even here, with the endless cascade of caca pouring out of DeeCee, some days it seems that no umbrella, no matter how all-encompassing, can keep the stink off you.
So, yeah — even I, Captain Cynicism, was moved to see the throng hooting and hollering along with emcee Robert Luke, legendary activist Dolores Huerta, Mayor Tim Keller, former Interior Secretary turned gubernatorial candidate Deb Haaland, state Attorney General Raúl Torrez, former Albuquerque poet laureate Mary Oishi, and others.
There were so many excellent, creative, handmade signs in evidence that I regretted dogging it and downloading prefabs from the Hands Off! people. My faves included “Shut Your Heil Hole,” the ever-popular “Elect a Clown, Expect a Circus,” and “Deport This Pendejo,” with an image of everyone’s favorite Swasticar salesman. There was even an excellent “Chingatumaga” placard, which we praised to its grinning creator.
So, props to Hands Off! and their partners for pulling off this nationwide dance party, which grabbed a whole lot of headlines. Now, the question is … where do we go from here? Or as that old troublemaker V.I. Lenin put it, “What is to be done?”
Mad Blog Media 