ThePoliticalCat

A Blog devoted to progressive politics, environmental issues, LGBT issues, social justice, workers' rights, womens' rights, and, most importantly, Cats.

Friday, March 02, 2012

Hey, everybody!

Your proprietors have been the shit about keeping this place clean and up to date, eh? Fuckwits.

So here's the deal. We're going AWAY! For a while! But. It's a journey of pains in the ass, which deserve memorialization.

No, I am not going to poop all over your lives by giving you all kinds of TMI unwanted crap about, I don't know, whatever the Tweeters are tweeting these days, mostly their bowel movements or their children's. We do not do this kind of cheap shit at this fine cathouse. No. Instead, we will wax eloquent upon all the people whose asses we would enjoy to kick if we weren't a crabby, curmudgeonly, elderly GIMP. Yeah, fuck this shit, we still have Teh GIMPITUDE. And someone will be made to PAY. We could start with John BONER, oh, eh, I mean Boehner, of course, the Dooky of Orange, the man of colour, except it's a colour not found anywhere in Nature.

Get ready to return to drinking yourself green by 5 pm daily, John. I hear Nancy Pelosi's gunning, heh, I mean, angling, for your job, and if you know Nancy like I know Nancy, then you know what Nancy wants she usually gets. HAHAHA. I am so going to enjoy watching your fat ass being kicked all the way back to the golf courses where you can stumble around drunk like the drunk stumblebum you are.

OK, enough with the fucking vitriol already. John Boner has actually almost kind of thought about making arguey noises at bloated limpdick misogynist whale, Flush Rimbowl, who is busy trying to sex some law student who might just sue his fucking ass off with extreme prejudice. HAHAHA, so to speak. Whatevs. We're supposed to be fucking packing for Chrisake, 30 books and 2 changes of clothing plus socks, haha, is that enough for a month? It could be more.

Awright, awreddy. We're off.

Here is a video of a cat for both our faithful readers. Because we know you love cats. You can stay in touch with some of us through the blog. We're not saying squat about the slackers who are supposed to be blogging and keeping things up while yours truly rolls around in agony recovering from various fucking surgeries and pains and trips to deathbeds. Jesus, my life sucks something awful, don't it? Anyway. This cat looks JUST like Bandicoot! Except Bandicoot would probably disembowel me if I tried to get him to swim anywhere. Enjoy!

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Andrew Breitbart

Andrew Breitbart died this morning. I'm trying to figure out how to express how I feel about this. I think I'd better use the same exact words that he used to commemorate another great public figure, Ted Kennedy. Let's see if I can remember what he said.

Oh, yes: "I'm more than willing to go off decorum to ensure THIS MAN is not beatified, Sorry, he destroyed lives. And he knew it."

I believe he also referred to Kennedy as "a prick" and scum. Apparently, such language is appropriate for the dead. Therefore, thank you Andrew, for showing me how to speak about the dead. You're dead. You scummy prick.

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Saturday, February 18, 2012

Caturday

That's Bandicoot. The big one. Gustav, the normal-sized kitty sitting next to him, has been desolate for the past two days.

Bandicoot was very, very sick this weekend, and we have no idea what happened. He spent all of Thursday night vomiting (yes, all fucking night, like every couple of hours). As you all know, certain people at La Casa de Los Gatos have extremely sensitive stomachs. We're talkin' hear someone/thing yarking within the limits of hearing distance, and barf along in tune. We're talking smell anything barfacious, like shit, stale piss, vomit, rotting corpses, and it's technicolour yawn time in old Hollywood city.

We're not naming any names now. We are not. But let me tell ya, anybody who has hardwood floors and can sleep through cat barfage, well, you're a better man than I am, Nelson.

Cats barf all the time, right? No big deal? I mean, do you know how much cats barf? If someone could figure out how to turn cat barf into a power source, we could probly run the whole planet very efficiently with low pollution thankyewveddymuch.

Wrong. If your cat barfs a LOT? Like all night a lot? Take the little fucker to the ER. They're really sick, and chances are their core temperature has dropped really low and they're completely dehydrated from all the vomiting, and if their gums are white or bluish, they may have been poisoned and could be close to death.

He was crying in a strange voice, and no beast in pain goes unheard in these parts. That's the policy. So we bundled him up and took him to the vet, and he had a chest x-ray and a sonogram and a blood panel, and I plan to plate him in gold when he returns. Lets just say it cost an arm and a leg, but I am grateful.

He has feline enteritis. Not the panleukopenia (FPV) kind. It made his tubby hurt a lot. He's on painkillers, antibiotics, and an IV drip for fluids and has been in the hospital for two days now. We're leaving in a little while to bring the babby home.

Oh, and Gustav, up there? When Gustav's mom threw a blood clot and had to be ... killed, OK? She was killed. Gustav was desolate. He had never really been separated from his Mom and didn't know how to cope. Bandicoot very kindly took him under an enormous Maine Coon paw and kept him company and kept him out of trouble and slept next to him to keep him warm, and put up with his bullshit. (Gustav was extremely neurotic and crazy when he first came, attacking all the other cats constantly and yowling in a voice like a Siamese on crack. Rescue kitteh. Bad history. Tranquilizers for two years.) So ever since The Coot has been in the horse spittle, Gustav has been inconsolable. And when he's inconsolable, he yowls. LOUDLY. You know, just in case you don't realize he's, like, suffering, or whatever.

Geezus, I can't wait for it to stop. He didn't let us sleep much so I ended up taking a pill, which I hate (I don't like taking medication of any sort and react badly to most of it, but two days without sleep is too much) and I have a splitting fucking headache from the medication. I sure hope he quits yowling soon or I'll have to kill myself.

Just kidding. If I killed myself I would miss out on the joy of bringing our own dear Bandicoot home at last, after two whole days away!

Just look at that little punim. Who could resist such a one?

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Saturday, January 21, 2012

Caturday!

Well! Hasn't this been an exciting week!

  • Bishop Willard "Mitt" RomneyCare started the week claiming to have created 100,000 jobs while at vulture corporation Bain Capital, but ended it whimpering something about "6,000 jobs."

  • After claiming that Romney won the Iowa state caucus, the GOP had to reverse itself and announce that Santorum actually won (Headline: Santorum easily slides ahead?)

  • Jon Huntsman (who? Oh, c'mon! You know! The guy who was polling at 1% or lower but the media still insisted he was in the race, even while refusing to let Buddy Roemer or Gary Johnson speak!) finally took his two million dollars worth of dental work and three hot daughters out of the public eye by announcing that he's dropping out of the race.

    In a slap-in-the-face to all the "liberals" who love him (because the Republicans/conservatives hate his motorcycling ass with a passion), he endorsed Bishop Willard. WTF, Jon? Y U treat us so bad, after telling us that schmuck was unelectable? Did the Temple Leaders threaten to take away your planet, or what?

  • Rick Purreh finally took pity on a suffering America and took his moronic undereducated dumber-than-the-last-Texas-hick ass back to N*****head Ranch where I guess he's keeping the local coyotes in fear for their lives and asking God "Why? Why me, Lord?" as he weeps incoherently into his bourbon-and-branch.

    Whom did he endorse? None other than "amoral jewelry-debt piglet"* Newt Gingrich, the man with the plan for trinkets from Tiffany's.

  • Meanwhile, the Godbag Faction of the Republican Party met last Sunday to anoint Santorum as their Chosen.

    No, not with santorum, you sick little puppies. In any event, those Fuckus on The Fambly turds, those Christianist Bible-bashers and homo-haters and misogynistic morons of Rightwingnuttia decided that their Not-MittRomney candidate would be Rick Santorum. These assholes were totes backing (P)Rick Perry just last week, so, talk about pivoting on a dime here. Faithless sluts.

  • Perennial punching bag and media slut-moron Sarah Palin apparently has lost even more of her brain to whatever deadly disease was making her spew word salad.

    After being informed that Newt's second wife, Marianne Gingrich, would be interviewed by ABC right after the South Carolina Republican debates, Babble Spice snorted that this would help Gingrich soar. Puzzled media bobbleheads have finally figured out that she meant Newt's amoral and perverse sexual shenanigans might have left him a little *sore,* or something. **

  • Over in Wisconsin, the Recall Walker campaign announced that it had received more (lotsmore) signatures than the minimum required to achieve their aim. Down, down, down goes Snotty Wanker, erstwhile governor of Wisconsin and rent-boy for the Koch Bros.

So, what's the deal, Republicans? Are y'all just tired of being a party, or what? Because this is some pretty weak fucking sauce, here, jes' sayin. I know we here at La Casa de Los Gatos have been saying for a while that President O could just cold phone it in, but, man? Do y'all have to make it so EASY for him? Y'all spent six years telling us he was a weak-ass n*****, a compromiser who caved on everything and apologised to everyone and bowed to foreign leaders and was morally weak. Meanwhile, he's been kicking y'alls asses nine ways to Sunday every day of the week.

I have heard Republicans telling me for six years or more about the fight against terrorism and how y'all are going to follow bin Laden to the gates of hell, and y'all know where he is and will take him out but only if we elect you (WTF? Treason much?). So, do we wanna talk about who might actually have taken bin Laden out? Because, you know, I don't remember that Republican President we had before Mr. Obama, you know, the one that NOBODY seems to want to talk about, I mean, they're *still* talking about Clinton and Carter, but you know, that guy, seems like everyone's done gone and forgotten about him, when he said he didn't care about bin Laden any more, and he disbanded the task force that was supposed to be looking for bin Laden, I don't recall ONE SINGLE Republican saying anything then. Not one word about following him to hell, or they will pay, or none of that shit. No, sir. None a that shit. And now Mr. Obama, he took out that Mr. bin Laden, and he took out that Mr. al-Zawahiri and he took out a whole bunch of these here, what the Republicans was calling "terrorists," round about ten years ago. He took them all out. And what do you suppose our fine Republican friends did about that? Did they say "Thank you, Mr. Obama"? Did they say "Thank you Mr. President, for keeping our country safe"? No, sirree, they did not. They said he illegally invaded a sovereign nation. These people, who had no problem with the US invading the sovereign nation of Iraq, which was NOT involved in any attacks against us, got all upset because Mr. Obama had to send a surgical strike team to take out the man who masterminded the most recent attack on American soil, who was being sheltered on Pakistani territory, by our "allies." Imagine that. Did you think you'd live to see the day when a bunch of "America, right or wrong! America, love it or leave it!" assholes would be more upset about the rights of those who shelter our enemies than about our right to pursue those enemies who kill our citizens?

And when he's not the Caveman-in-chief, he's supposed to be some kind of Superman who is singlehandedly preventing yon teabaggers from getting anything done while shoving unpopular measures down the collective throat of the American people. He's a Marxist, a Stalinist, a Fascist, and an Islamist, he controls the courts (which, nevertheless, stubbornly refuse to rule in his favour on certain issues, why, no one can say). He's using mind control techniques to hypnotize the weak willed sheep who are cowed by his bullish tactics even as they are seduced by the pork he proffers. Geez, no wonder we're obese. Half our metaphors are about spectator sports and the other half about food. Oh, NOEZ!! He's forcing states to take care of sick people, disabled people, poor people, babies and children who might be hungry, starving people, old people! How AWFUL!

What the FUCK kind of world are we living in where these nutbags can turn reality into something resembling sausage, i.e., chopped up, mixed up, and stuffed up a pig's anus? Seriously. There is a styful of pigs on the Republican side of this election. Fortunately, it's thinning. Still, the choices fucking suck.

So it's off to Florida for Mittens and Newt and Rick Santorum and Ron Paul, while the rest of America stabs itself in the eye with a fork over and over and over, just to dull the pain.

Happy Caturday, y'all!

* Forever indebted to Kirsten Boyd Johnston of Wonkette for the so-fitting sobriquet of "amoral jewelry-debt piglet" for Newtie.
** Apparently, Bobblehead Barbie was correct, and them South Carolinians just LERVE them some amoral pigfuckery of the adulterous, wife-dumping, intern-humping, vow-breaking Nouveau Papist variety. Newt Gingrich just won South Carolina.

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Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Attack Of The Killer Slimeballs

It's here at last! The war of the Horrible Wealthy Old White Male Republicans that will culminate in the re-election of Barack H. Obama in about ten months. And firing the opening shots is none other than everybody's favourite lard-assed pasty cannonball, Newton Leroy GinGrinch, aiming to take down Bishop Willard "Magic Underwear Mitt" Romney.

Check it out. Very nicely done, no?

Whaddya think? Can Mittens survive this? And the Bain Capital attacks?

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Monday, January 09, 2012

History And Its Discontents

As y'all probably already know, if you're following this Cat's annual Book List & Review over at the sisterblog, we've been reading a lot of history over the past few years, and it has been extremely — extremely very — educational, indeed. We are shoved into schools, as children, not necessarily so much for the purposes of educating our eager young minds as to function as a sort of childcare-cum-penitentiary in which we are prepared for our future as obedient tools of the state. Learning to function in 50-minute segments, to slice-and-dice our attention into suitable spans, to absorb unquestioningly whatever the school system and our local school board shall deem it fit in their infinite lack of wisdom to shovel down our youthful throats.

No one questions this pablum, this feeding-tube of culture and knowledge that is piped directly into our veritable livers of learning, fattening us like those unfortunate foie-gras geese on things that mold our minds and early impressions, but travel under the radar, placing seeds in that fertile soil that are never questioned again.

Some of us are fortunate enough to be raised in homes that value education and the written word for its own benefits. But what about the hundreds of thousands of us who are lucky to complete twelve years of basic education, if that? Those individuals are wandering around with a worldview that is not even close to what those of us fortunate enough — or determined enough, or lucky enough — to educate ourselves further have developed.

Hell, even those of us who are educated better sometimes slip into the easy language of that early pablum. What have Americans been taught about the foundation of this country?

Tonight, PBS will be screening a documentary on General Custer, the stupid schmuck who has come down to us through the ages as the "hero" of "Custer's Last Stand." It's good to know that there are many white (and Black) Americans who have educated themselves on the true nature of this country's founding, and on the genocide of the Native tribes. But the local fishwrap carried a TV review column today by one Dave Weigand, who we must presume is an educated American. Educated sufficiently to find employ with the local fishwrap, in a time when nearly ten per cent of the nation's employable individuals are struggling to find employment. Here, for your enjoyment, are some gems from his recent review.

"After the war, Custer and his wife, Libbie, moved to Fort Riley, Kan., where Custer would head the 7th Cavalry as part of the government's effort to deal with the growing problem of Indians."

No, seriously. This is what passes for an educated reviewer's comment. What, exactly, does the writer mean by "the growing problem of Indians"? Were Indians suddenly becoming taller? Fatter? Experiencing a population explosion? The writer doesn't bother to explain what the term means. You, the reader, are left to figure it out for yourself, to ask your own questions, find out your own information, come to your own conclusions.

But this is a film/tv review, not a history examination or a job interview. We read movie reviews to be entertained, to be amused, to enjoy ourselves in a moment of leisure, slouched in our favourite chair. We're not going to bother to ask questions about what we're reading. So what do we do with this phrase, "the growing problem of Indians"? We file it away in our mental cabinets and the next time we're talking to someone or writing email or writing in our journals or blogs or FB walls, we might mention that "a growing problem with Indians" caused Custer's last stand. Suddenly, we've gone from being killed for killing other people and trying to steal their land to having "a growing problem with Indians" causing the death of an American hero. And this piece of information continues to colour anything we read or hear or see about Native Americans. We "know" that "the government" had a "growing problem" with "Indians." Even though we really don't know anything at all. No facts have been imparted to us, our store of knowledge about the Native people, or the white Americans of that day, the number of protagonists and antagonists, is richer by not one iota. Instead, what we have is an assumption that masquerades as fact. One of that family of statements that lives in the land of "Everyone knows" and "they say."

"While, in general, politicians in Washington hoped that the Indians could be contained, the sentiment in the West was to eradicate them, especially after gold was discovered in the Black Hills, on the Sioux reservation."

Again, we're not actually being given any information here. "In general" is a nice way of saying "I'm not going to tell you how many." Not that we need to know. And what does it mean, to "be contained"? Is that the same as being "killed"? Eradicated? Rounded up on reservations? Why not just admit that the Americans of the time longed to seize the land of the Native people? Because that IS what we're talking about, you know. It's not as if he doesn't say that exact thing in the very next sentence, either.

"As civilization advanced the frontier towards the Pacific ..."

This one got to me. The assumption that the greedy people who were simply looking for new frontiers to exploit,new forests to cut down, new natives to shoot and steal the land from, that these wretches and scoundrels and flim-flam men had any right to be seen as the forces of civilization, is nothing short of ridiculous, and outright offensive. Mind you, I'm not arguing the concept of the Noble Savage, here. The nobility, or lack thereof, on the part of the savage has no bearing whatsoever on the civilization or lack thereof of those who would exploit, rape, and murder him.

In short, Weigand appears to conclude that Custer was done in by "manifest destiny," without ever bothering to explain that "manifest destiny" is that doctrine that justifies the bloody imperialistic genocide of the Natives, the First Nations of this land, and the theft of their land, as well as the war with Mexico to take by force that land that now constitutes the whole of the present-day United States of America. I guess it sounds a lot less appealing to say that Custer died because he believed that Native Americans should be exterminated and their lands stolen by force. I can't imagine why.

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Wednesday, January 04, 2012

Jon Stewart Nails It

As always. Right out of the park. And remember, he taped this before last night's Iowa rout:

Watch for all the Repubs to start tearing at Santorum now.

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Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Such a shayne punim!

Anybody who dares to say our President "hates white people" has never seen this photo. Mind you, that's probably how his momma would be looking at him, if she were alive today.

And don't start with me on the NDAA. No, I'm not happy about it, but I'm not going to say anything until I've examined it for myself. My President @BarackObama is still the best possible choice available for the job, and I hope I can convince him to explain to me why this law is needed, and what he has done and will do to safeguard the civil rights of Americans and of all human beings, by extension.

In the meantime, if you watched the shitstorm that was the Iowa Republican Caucus tonight, you can see why I support my President. I do not want any of those loons in charge. This country is changing, just as the world is changing, and I wish that change would speed up. But we only get the kind of change and the amount of change that we work for.

See you in the frontlines of #Occupy in the new year!

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MISSING PERSON

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Monday, January 02, 2012

2012 Book List


Photo copyright K. Smokey Cormier


Last year's final book review is up at the sisterblog, as is this year's book list. It's not complete, but that's because I can't climb up to the top shelves. If ever there's an earthquake, I'll be crushed to death by my own fucking books.


Anywho. Checkidout, place yer bets, and consider buying me lots of books for the new year, or lending me them, even. Also recommendations are welcome. Gotta remember to take the fucking pain meds even if it does make everything move at the speed of molasses.

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Monday, December 12, 2011

Announcement For Teh Day


No, we haven't been turned into a cat. Or a toad, for that matter. And yes, we did pass on that fucking chain letter. And all the other fucking chain letters y'all mailed us (you know who you are).

Surgery tomorrow. Would you believe we have to fucking BE THERE at 6:15 am? I feel like John Wayne Gacy in that stupid movie about him, yelling at everyone, "Do you know who I AM? Huh? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" I mean, fucking COME ON, people. La Casa de Los Gatos does not begin to download teh wakefulness until, oh, 9 am or such. This does not bode well.

    Pluses: No CPM machine that has to be strapped into for up to 8 hours per day.
    Minuses: PT regularly for fucking EVAH.
Also, pain meds. I hate them. I don't react well to them. They make me vomit and feel nauseated all the time. And I can't read or think or function very well mentally, which I also hate. The last time I was on them, I actually got off them very easily mdash; I just kept forgetting to take them for longer and longer periods, and eventually decided if I wasn't suffering enough to want them I could live with the pain. Right? It can't be TOO bad if you're not groaning and writhing about. Because when I came out of the major surgery, the pain was so fucking bad, I could barely see. All I could do was groan, uh, uh, uh, like I was about to die. I remember hearing the sound and thinking, Now who the fuck is making all that noise? And it was me. Now that's the level of pain where you need medication. If it's just, you know, painful but you can still function, why bother? I mean, you're functional, right? That's better than being painfree but a vegetable from the neck up.

Also, I don't get any buzz from pain meds. The only thing they do for me is make the pain bearable. Some people talk about feeling high or a feeling of flying or consciousness-altering. I don't get any of that. If I did, maybe I could get addicted to pain meds, like a lot of medical professionals seem to. For me there is absolutely NO upside, and plenty of downside. Perhaps I should be grateful.

I'll be back pretty soon, I imagine. And since the daily pain levels will go down after this surgery, hopefully, back to blogging as well. So don't get up to any more trouble than y'all need to. BBL.

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Wednesday, November 30, 2011

For All Our Irish Friends

Wherever they may be:



Our very own part-Irish President goes HOME to claim his heritage! President O'Bama, whose ancestors come from all over our world and whose relatives live in every part of it.

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