Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out...

Well, tonight is the night. Dubya’s final State of the Union. An event I’ve been dreaming about since 2001. The final report from the most corrupt presidential administration in American history. The coda, if you will, on seven years of conflicting stories, fabricated scenarios and outrageous lies that have quite possibly done irreparable harm to the Constitution and the future of the rule of law and its role in helping to govern our “great” nation. This administration managed to smash the mirror in which we as Americans see ourselves in relation to the world and we’ve been sitting shiva ever since. But today my friends, the seven year streak of bad luck has ended.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about those who didn’t live to relish this moment, those who would share my sense of relief and giddy apprehensive joy like Molly Ivins and Hunter S. Thompson. Voices of reason in an increasingly unreasonable world. But there are new voices and a sense of hope that has begun to seep into the country’s wounded psyche. We’re teetering on that brink of possibility. Of course, we can just as easily fall over the edge into an abyss of shit beyond our wildest dreams. But I think the Kool Aid is starting to wear off and folks are more lucid and balanced. It was all those meditation and yoga sessions we collectively took to take our minds off the pending apocalypse of the last seven years.

As the nation cautiously registers what will hopefully be an insignificant speech, we can all take solace in the fact that we will never again have to hear about the state or our country through the medium of this bumbling lunatic. Pray that he finishes up without another “axis of evil” sound bite or worse, having planted the seeds for a new declaration of war. Perhaps we’ll have a bird’s eye view of Bush’s farewell kiss to Joe Lieberman. Ahh, I’m all warm and fuzzy.

Speaker Pelosi, make sure they lock the doors – don’t let Rove get in – he has a mental connection with the president and can make him say anything! Senator Dodd, always stay in the President’s line of sight, especially when he starts rambling on about FISA. And for God’s sake, don’t look Cheney directly in the eye, his gaze will render you powerless. Fixate on George, he doesn’t know how to look anyone in the eye. You know your mission. You've been preparing for this moment for years. Don't blow it. We're counting on you. Make us proud, or at the very least, keep my nausea at bay.

Happy Friday

I've just been too exhausted to blog this week. Started acting and script writing classes. So, I'll leave you with this visual gem until I can muster up the strength to write something worth reading.

The best laugh I've had in years....

Esteban Colberto interviewing Lou Dobbs on Thursday's show.

Sixteen Seconds is a Pretty Long Orgasm

Now it starts to get weird. As the great political philosopher and journalist, Hunter S. Thompson once said, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” Well, as a reluctant consumer with limited funds, I’ve strapped myself into this contraption, clutching the ticket as I hang on for dear life praying I don’t puke before we come to a halt. What has me taking deep breaths and swallowing repeatedly trying to keep the bile as far down as possible? Why it’s the newly fabricated race war between Hillary and Barack.

After watching hours of this back and forth on all the networks, blogs and newswires over the last couple of days I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing of any real merit is ever going to come out of either campaign until the media stops its rabid, blood thirst for conflict where there isn’t any. Instead of reporting relevant news they’re on a diatribe of mindless race babble that culminated in what can only be described as an exercise in absurdity.

Last night the local NBC affiliate in my home state actually counted the seconds of applause that Hillary got after a speech she gave at a MLK celebration in New York. Sixteen seconds of luke warm applause. That’s right. Sixteen. I couldn’t believe my ears. Some moron actually felt the need to count the seconds. Now I challenge you – stand up and clap for sixteen seconds straight. No stopping. Seems like a pretty generous amount of time to me. I don’t think I applauded that long for Springsteen.

But the press headlines to the event were even more telling. And you thought the network media, the Big Three, were above the spin, immune to the hype. I’m not talking Fox news here.

MSNBC headline: Clinton Honors MLK at Labor Event (okay, pretty boring but accurate)

ABC headline: Clinton Faces Boos and Catcalls at MLK Event (boos and catcalls – wow, that’s a contrast from honoring MLK at a labor event)

WCBS out of NY: Clinton Gets Respectful Applause at MLK Event (okay, so what’s so respectful about boos and catcalls?)

Canada.com: Hillary Does Damage Control at King Birthday Dinner (Damage control? Canada? What the fuck do they have to do with this?)

This is the press’ racial equivalent of a wet dream.

Now sides are clearly taken. Bob Johnson, president of Black Entertainment Television (and Clinton supporter) makes a very off-color (pun intended) remark about Obama’s past in the streets of Chicago. The veiled implication that while Hillary was single-handedly saving the women’s movement and getting blacks the vote, Obama was snorting coke and smoking weed. Now, did he actually say that? No, of course not. That would be political suicide, right? He implied it, rather bluntly. Then there’s the Oprah factor, whatever the Hell that is. It’s getting tedious.

For the first time in American history we’ll get the chance to not vote for a middle aged, wealthy white man. So why is the press blowing it harder than a Louis Armstrong trumpet solo? Get with it for Christ’s sake. This is the most important election since 2004.

The Kiss of Death

Senator Barack Obama triumphantly holds back tears at the prospect of this latest endorsement.