Monthly Archives: January 2012

AH MITTY, WE HARDLY KNEW YOU!


Dear Mitty:

I hope you don’t mind my calling you Mitty? ‘Mitt’ sounds so stiff, so formal, just like the blood-sucking billionaire we used to read about. The venture capitalist vampire who sucked dry the lifeblood of a hundred soon-to-die companies.

So, allow me to call you Mitty. If only because we slept together all those years.

Hey, It’s not easy to woo and screw an entire state, but you made it look like child’s play. Swooping down on us. Climbing in our window. A lover who came in the dark and left before dawn. We can still feel the lingering kisses, Mitty, and recall the eager, sophomoric foreplay of your 1994 senatorial campaign, not to mention the SLAM-BAM-THANK YOU M’AM screw job you gave us before you left. Many of us recall that fourth year of your ONE-AND-ONLY term as governor, when you couldn’t find the interest to spend even half your days in the state. It was tough living with someone who was never around, Mitty. Clearly your love—if love it was—had fled somewhere else.

Though your marriage was consummated in Massachusetts your heart was now committed to Washington, D.C.

And what about when you testified about Massachusetts’ liberals down in Washington, Mitty? These days, you castigate Obama for apologizing for America. You were still our governor and you were dissing us to a panel of senators as if Massachusetts and its citizens were some objectionable lab-bred culture.

Hey Mitty, it’s not easy shifting your shape from a moderate’s to a conservative! The things you have to do, right?

And so you left us; leaving your job as our top officeholder unfinished. How many people can govern a state for three years and finish their mission, Mitty? There was so much you still could have done. You had already developed strong relationships with the legislature, knew how to get things done. But you heard another voice calling. Once again, desire was rising. Here within reach was another object of affection to woo and screw. A new siren’s call to chase after.

I guess we should feel proud you left us for a bigger state. But not just any state, Mitty, or one state, but the entire United States of America! And if you don’t win them through election, whose to say you can’t buy them later?

Well, anyway, let me end this before I start to sound bitter. Don’t want you thinking your abrupt rejection has left us sad or bitter. Other states might feel exploited or cheapened by your quick, loveless encounter, like a prostitute who feels undeserving of a goodbye kiss. But we always secretly knew you would love us and leave us.

No hard feelings, Mitty, we were only looking for a cheap thrill ourselves.

Your landscapers asked to be remembered.

Affectionately,

Deval

For The Commonwealth of Massachusetts
(signed by)
Deval Patrick
Governor (in his SECOND TERM)

IOWA’S SPECIAL REPUBLICANS RUNNING A CLOSE RACE


Des Moines, IA—You can almost hear the crowd roar as half a dozen Special Republicans appear to be approaching the finish line in Iowa’s Mad Dog Caucus competition. This once-every-four-year event has never seen such a riotous conclusion as its field of Special Republicans goes beyond all limits to prove to the Iowan judges that each one is more unhinged, unfeeling and venomous than the others. At the front of the pack is, of course, Mitt Romney, Special Republican from Massachusetts—or is it Utah, or maybe New Hampshire(?)—who seems to be running out front of the pack because of his limitless war chest and his unchallenged ability to shapeshift into virtually any appearance the contest requires. Romney, who has sucked dry and gleefully fenestrated countless profitable businesses as a venture capitalist has nevertheless won the Big Bullshitting Event, convincing deception-starved Iowans that he’s the man to save the economy and create new jobs. Yes, it’s a little like Jerry Sandusky running on a “Save The Children” ticket, but that’s why this race is worthy of the country’s top Special Republicans.

Then there are the Three Wise Men of Wacko Christian Ideology: Rick Santorum, Rick Perry and Michelle Bachman, who fought to be included in the “Wise Men” grouping by declaring she has the balls Obama left behind on his Hawaiian vacation. Special Republican Champions everyone, if only for their ability to convince sensible Iowans to buy into mind-boggling, bible-thumping beliefs…that Darwin was not only nuts, but was clearly sent to Hell where he’s getting shtupped twice daily by members of the Aryan Nation…that God created man and woman on the sixth day, then accidentally created gays on his day off. That Muslims can’t be Americans because nowhere does it say “In Allah we Trust” on our nation’s currency.

But the two Special Republicans providing the most pure entertainment and muscular effort are Newt Gingrich and Ron Paul. Gingrich, who never met a moral position he couldn’t both violate and profess undying love for, had a brief sprint to the front of the pack, but was brought down by a volley of bricks, rocks and arrows thrown by totally independent, non-aligned political action committees. And Paul who would cut government programs and expenditures to a size similar to when John Smith first proposed marriage to Pocahontas, is finding great support from students and others who appreciate that one Special Republican actually gave some thought to what he would do as president. Weird thought perhaps, but thought nevertheless.

And so we come down to the final hours of Iowa’s Special Republicans Competition. Each entrant bent on proving how tough, how uncaring and how whiter than white they can be. Health care reform? Repeal it. Taxing the wealthy? Not a penny more. Teaching evolution in our schools? God forbid. Allowing gay marriage? Over their dead bodies. Crippling Social Security and Medicare? It’s about time. Torturing prisoners? Absolutely, especially if they aren’t Christian.

Watch these pages to see who makes it first across the finish line.

Most likely running backward.