Well, that was a waste of time. My trip to the Statehouse, that is. I’ve really got to stop hanging out with nuns and other such nice people. Fuck that. Because nice people let elected officials walk all over them – all with a limp handshake and a three-dollar smile. You see, earlier today I took an early lunch break, threw on a clean shirt and wandered up to the Statehouse to see the impeachment crowd make a showing. Well, it wasn’t much of a show. It was more like church. There we sat. Quietly. And somberly. All too happy when one of our reps mentioned that we were in attendance. Big fucking deal.
I would have rather we rushed the podium and declared ourselves the true and only captains of the ship for a moment or two. At least we would have made the nasty spirited cops hanging around the place actually do something other than look surly. And all those lingering media types would have had something to do other than camping out at the doors of power.
But no such luck. The niceties ruled the day. Ho-hum. The nice impeachment crowd hung nice little signs around their nice necks and sat nicely while being not-so-nicely ignored. Wow. Powerful shit. Not. The signs around their necks said something about being for impeachment but they might as well have just said: “Kick me, I’m a liberal.” Oh baby, feel the victimhood!
The absolutely hysterical part of the show was that the two Dem powerbrokers, Gaye Symington in the House and Peter Shumlin in the Senate, stood firmly in their insistence that “there was no time” for either chamber to take up the matter of Vermont passing a resolution calling for Bush to be removed from office. But in the 30-minutes that I could stand the nonsense of the so-called busi-ness of the House chamber, I saw a two-bit country poet reciting nonsense in a thick Vermont accent that made most everyone swoon with dopiness, a pledge to the flag, resolutions supporting what felt like every town’s basketball teams and more than enough “thank you, Ms. Speakers,” to make me want to slide bare-assed down the winding banister just for shits and giggles. But, then again, I’m always wanting to that.
Who the hell knows what happened after the 30 minutes I could barely endure. The last I saw of the nice people they were nicely marching off to apparently be nice in another part of the nice building. Isn’t it fucking great how nice we can be while people die in our name? There are mega-ton bombs falling on the heads of Iraqis due to one ridiculous lie after another by the sitting president and his merry-band of Constitution shredders, but – in response – we have to observe and respect the rules that are basically dictating that we be ignored. Thank you, Ms. Speaker! And, please, let me know if I’m not bending over at the appropriate height so as to maximize the force of your boot making contact with my ass.
Ack. Yack. Puke. Blah. Flah. Bwa. Ugh.
There, I feel a little better – other than that taste of Constitutional vomit still lingering.
Stay tuned, there’s more coming later….
