If you believe
in Santa Claus, the Democratic Party or forever, stop reading now.
I don't want to be responsible for bursting anyone's bubble. But these
past couple of weeks have been hell
a rollercoaster of emotions
-- and not the good kind of rollercoaster. Oh no, this rollercoaster is
manned by a carnie-gone-bad. There's no stopping, or getting off the ride
in the foreseeable future. But, emotions aside, I am happy to step out
of this beat-down town called Jadedville in order to explain myself with
more objectivity and panache.
You see, I just never believed in Santa Claus
ever. The whole story
is just so implausible, it doesn't make sense. I mean, it was drilled
into our little heads to never talk to strangers, and yet, my parents
seemed almost gleeful that some strange fat guy, (oops - Jadedville),
I mean weight-challenged man was to arrive in the wee hours, led
by a team of spunky reindeer, to then sneak into the house via the chimney,
or busted screen door, depending on your socio-economic status
dressed in Red (hardly a clandestine color), quickly pile fifty presents
under the Christmas tree, eat a light snack, then scamper away into the
night without making a sound, tracking in mud or setting off alarms. Okay,
reindeer-on-the-roof? Please. You can tell when there's a squirrel on
the roof -- again, highly implausible.
But, for my parent's sake, I went along with the charade. It seemed to
make them happy, and being a good co-dependent, this was highly important
to me. I would even use my great acting ability to convince my little
brothers and sisters that I believed in Santa. Tatum O'Neal shouldn't
be the only nine-year old ever to win an Oscar. Boy, was I good. I even
volunteered every year to make the cookies and pour the milk for jolly,
Ole St. Nick. So, you see, this is where it all began
believe in something I found ridiculous just to make those whom I love,
Similarly, I was very convincing to my friends that I believed Senator
Kerry had it in the bag. Proudly displaying my "Wax Bush" bumper
sticker, canvassing the 'hood, raising donations
hope was decidedly
on the way. Yet somehow, on its journey, it got lost. And in turn, the
Democratic party has become anything but a party. It's now a mere shell
of its former self, a downtrodden group of idealists in a land taken over
by fatalists. Fatalists who believe that the Lord Jesus will soon take
them out of this immoral world to where the streets are paved with gold
like Bel-Air, but Heaven. That's why W doesn't give a hoot about
the environment. Environment , schmironment - he's headed for the great
Earth is merely the ugly stepchild.
When pollsters asked Bushies why they preferred the incumbent to Senator
Kerry, the majority of voters said they voted based on their moral values,
i.e., W is a man of faith, a Christian. The largest percentage
of Republicans that were crucial in handing the election over to Mr. Bush
is a sect of people known as Evangelical Christians -- a group of folks
who believe the end is near. They're on pins and needles, waiting for
their Lord and Savior to return and escort them all to heaven, while those
of us left behind, e.g. sinners and sodomites, destroy earth and mankind
in a fight to the finish, Armageddon.
Now when one looks at the definition of "sect," it reads: a
small, close-knit group with strongly held views that are sometimes regarded
as extreme by the majority. Sounds scary. Isn't that why we're spending
billions jinxing Jihad, to destroy a sect of aggressive Muslims? Huh.
Muslims. Evangelical Christians
similar features, with longer beards.
Seriously, what could be more aggressive and extreme than 'editing' the
most revered document in our country -- the Constitution? Because that's
exactly what our Christ-loving Bushies did in over eight states -- they
voted to amend the Constitution to disallow gays the right to marry. Taxation
without representation, remember that one? Maybe we sodomites should all
stop rendering unto Caesar that which is being used to slap us in the
face. And the response from the Democrats? Nothing. Nada. Okey-dokey artichokey,
whatever you Red-states want, you get. What happened to protecting the
right to life, love, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? There are no
qualifiers in that sentence --straight, gay, white, black, Republican,
Democrat. It literally covers everyone. Every one. I guess we're
just too busy protecting the rights of Iraqis. I mean, sort of, we've
lost a few along the way. And I'm not being glib. My heart is crushed
by the loss of life from this war. But oddly, I'm not angry at the election
outcome, nor at the loss of hope for change. I'm more embarrassed -- embarrassed
to be called an American
because of what that stands for these days.
James Madison, known as the Father of the Constitution, was adamant about
the need for separation of church and state. He believed that the state
should not impose religion on its citizens
period. And because Mr.
I'm-A-Uniter-Not-A-Divider has chosen to blatantly disregard his forebears,
he has created our nation's most divisive populace since the Civil War.
Which, by the way, was fueled by scripture-quoting slave owners to condone
their behavior, Ephesians 6:5-9. That's right, the Good Book keeping the
disenfranchised down... whooda thunk?
But let's wrap this up, 'cause it's been an emotionally exhausting couple
of weeks and I need a nap. Between losing the election and my girlfriend
- it's too much. It really came out of nowhere. I thought the itch wasn't
supposed to come until seven years
it's only been four. But then,
I did agree to date someone fifteen years younger. I guess it's my own
fault. I bet Donald Trump doesn't have to put up with this kinda thing
he probably just calls whatever youngster he's dating into his cedar-walled
study and tells her "You're fired." I got the pink slip over
the phone, while she was away on a business trip. Talk about wanting to
reach out and touch someone.
The pursuit of love
it's Sisyphean. If only the Constitution had
some helpful hints about that one, you know, maybe encrypted behind John
Hancock's signature like in National Treasure. Enduring love is
a misnomer. Jadedville? You betcha. I'm headed back. To where things are
as they seem
there's no sugar-coating in my town, just low-carb
honesty. You don't have to pretend to believe in something that doesn't
exist where I live. No impassioned bumper stickers allowed.
So when it comes to matters of the heart, proceed with caution. Don't
be caught off guard. Date within your age group (unless they're blind).
And most importantly, when the one you love scribbles in a flowery, anniversary
card: Yours forever, or on a Post-It: Out walking the dog, xo
please dear god, don't take it literally. 'Love' and
'Forever' are simply notions -- sweet concepts, but meaningless, like
Remember, I don't want to burst your bubble.
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