Es Lunes. . .

Yes folks, the regularity of this happening is only outweighed by the severity of its suckiness. It is Monday. Again.

Dammit man!

Since Congress is sensationally inept at producing anything of worth in this year of our Lord 2009, I suggest that they collectively fart into a two-liter Coke bottle as they declare that Monday no longer exists. It's about as likely as insuring the health of all America with a deficit-neutral spending plan.

I guess what is giving me a good case of the gripes today is the gloomy weekend of gray, cloudy days and monsoonal, humid nights. I needs me some sunshine. And a vacation. And a million dollars. Right now, I'd settle for the sunshine.

I don't really know where I am going with this post, but I'll start here by offering three examples of prominent, wealthy, elite and pampered American cultural icons who fucking piss me off so badly that I have terrible astral projections in which distinct visions of baby Jesus walking a headless cat on the edge of a burning razor blade manifest themselves in my gurgling gray matter.

Yes, I took some great acid a time or two. And with that admission I suppose my political ambitions just went out the window, to which I wish them a fond farewell.

In no particular order:

1) The Williamses

I love tennis. I like to play it and I enjoy watching the power and the grace and the nipples, uh, I mean sportmanship. Yes, that's it.

Saturday night I was watching as Serena Willams and Burgden Urchlichtenten, no no, what is her name? Oh yes, Kim Clijsters. Anyway, she and Serena were battling one another in the semi-finals of the Open. It was fantastic tennis, spirited, powerful, raw and frankly, Clijsters was kicking Serena's ass, all 185 pounds of it from one side of the court to the other. Clearly, Kim was winning the match and the frustration for Serena continued to mount as she smashed a racket and after being warned once, came completely unglued in the second set. After a questionable foot fault call by the linesman, Serena threatened bodily harm on the poor woman and was subsequently disqualified. Game over Space Cadet!

Dear Serena, there are hard times in life when the hard lessons of hard living reach up and smack the color out of you. For you, this is one of those times. You've tasted greatness, you are famous, you are wealthy and live a polished and refined lifestyle, people adore you and you excel in what you do, but Saturday night you reduced yourself to a caricature of you. Petulant, angry, unhappy, bitchy, childish, condescending, shameless, malevolent, mean and forever in my mind's eye, ugly.

In spite of your ignorant father, you and Venus have achieved a greatness that will never be duplicated, but as I looked at your face Saturday, in your hard eyes, and the cold demeanor of your sister as she sat unemotional and vacant as the crowd around her cheered in hopes of your victory, I could only conjure up one word to describe you both and that is, losers.

All the money in the world couldn't buy the hate that lives inside of you and your family. It is quite evident and tremendously dispiriting. We tried to love you, but you could never love yourselves. There comes a time in life when your ego is smaller than the moment in which it finds itself. Saturday night was game, set, match.

2. Kanye West

We all know what happened last night so I'll keep this one short.

From All Falls Down featuring Syleena[?] Johnson:

Then I spent 400 bucks on this
Just to be like nigga you ain't up on this!
And I can't even go to the grocery store
Without some ones thats clean and a shirt with a team
It seems we living the american dream
But the people highest up got the lowest self esteem
The prettiest people do the ugliest things
For the road to riches and diamond rings
We shine because they hate us, floss cause they degrade us
We trying to buy back our 40 acres
And for that paper, look how low we a'stoop
Even if you in a Benz, you still a nigga in a coop/coupe

Guess what dipshit, you are "still a nigga in a coop."

3. President Barack Obama

Let's just say dear ol' pampered Barack hasn't been getting his way lately. Angry "Cracker America" has been making life a veritable hell for his DemocRATic partisans in the congress and the emperor's mask is beginning to slip.

President Jughead's speech to the joint session the other evening was a weak attempt at explanation of a complicated and convoluted 1000-page bill that no one understands, no one can explain in clear detail and that includes Buckethead himself. There have been countless arguments about what the facts are, cuz you know, facts is facts and they kinda make shit understandable for we 4th grade-educated, gun-clinging, Bible-thumpers. Weir dum.

So, still no facts and his only course of action was to attack the "lies" that have been perpetuated by fear-mongering, right-wing racists like Sarah Palin and Rush Limbaugh. Those fuckers! We should bomb them!

Ok, I'll be serious for a moment. Here we have a man, an avowed liberal, a man who spent twenty years in a church where the roof was blown off each weekend with outrageous anti-white, anti-semitic and anti-governement conspircay theories. A man, who associated with domestic, although incompetent, terrorists and was born, bred and raised on the filthy, gutter, body-politic of the Chicago wastelands. A man, who has demonstrated an unwavering allegiance to nothing pro-American, save his own personality and the sickening cult that surrounds it. A man, who comforts himself and his inner-circle with appointed radicals of all stripe and variety and expects us to accept them simply because he does and he knows what's best for us.

Got news for you buddy. Go fuck yourself with a toilet plunger because you're full of shit. We don't have to accept any of this insanity. And you know what? People are seeing right through you, we see you now, clearly, in focus with plenty of depth of field, and what do we see? A very angry and disaffected black man.

And guess what dickhead?

Monkey see, monkey do.