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Politics: Are Palin, Rush Limbaugh, & Republicans retarded?

So, dear Rush Limbaugh is being taken to task for the use of the word ‘retard’ on his radio show. This–in and of itself–is completely unsurprising and not very interesting. I mean, this IS the guy with all the taste and class to imitate Michael J. Fox having a seizure, after all.

No, the delicious part is this:

“Our political correct society is acting like some giant insult has taken place by calling a bunch of people who are retards, ‘retards,” Limbaugh said of the report on Wednesday’s show. “These liberal activists are kooks, they are looney tunes.”

Liberal activists, you say?

You mean, like that tea-baggin’, moose-shooter Sarah Palin? Just a scant few days before Rush ate his foot, Palin was chastising her own colleagues for use of the same word, which in turn was only a day or so after wanting White House Chief of Staff Rom Emmanuel (D) fired for using the same word … about liberals.

Does everyone in D.C. have their heads so far up their own whazoos that no one can see they’re drowning in irony? Honestly, I think these people might be r… ah, challenged.

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Life: Quit yer bitchin’, America.

H1N1 is just the flu. If I made it through, so can you. It’s just a President. If the last one didn’t destroy America, this one won’t either. Everyone needs to shut their traps, turn off 24-hour TV “news”, chill out, harden up and just do what needs to get done. Cinch your underwear up real tight, America, because we’re starting to make France look like some hardened UFC fighter.

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News: I’m having Jon Stewart’s Baby

In case you’ve been under a rock and haven’t seen it, you really must watch Jon Stewart rip Cramer and CNBC an entirely new asshole. That a bullshit fake news show is apparently the only place asking really hard questions is mind boggling. Note: this link goes to the entire interview, not just the edit that made it on air.

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Politic: What goes around

Ha HAH. Governor Sarah “I can see Russia!” Palin told to pay back taxes. No wonder I’ll never be in politics; I pay my taxes.

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News Flash! Obama Scandal!

While most major news outlets today are celebrating the inauguration of the the nations first African-American President, correspondents here at MadeOfGlass News have uncovered remarkable information concerning the new president. It seems, in fact, that Barack Obama’s mother was actually–prepare yourself, because this is startling–WHITE! Yes, I know this is astounding. In fact, further research into his parentage indicates that his father may not have actually been African-American, but just African…

Okay, so I’m being a bit of a snot. But I do have a point. It seems that in our media’s rush–and our nation’s need–to assuage our long bout of white guilt, we’re happily labeling the new President as African-American and leaving it at that.

I think that is too simplistic of a view, and more disconcertingly, ignores an even more important point: he’s biracial.

What does this mean? Why is it important? Well, beyond the idea of a purely black man climbing to the top of the ladder, I think the idea that he is the product of black AND white races symbolizes what we can accomplish together. Sadly, I think this is a topic too scary for media to address, that perhaps a large portion of the population would rather not think about inter-racial relationships. Tack onto it that he’s the son of an immigrant, and you have a whole host of other issues our country still doesn’t want to deal with.

It is as if we’re finally able to talk about something we have been struggling with for a century or more. But we’re not quite ready to talk about more recent issues: bi-racial marriages, or the power of recent immigrants.

I see great hope in today, in the election of this man, in what it implies for the future. But I see so many more troubling things in how we as a society are choosing to frame this day. 

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Politic: the last

“Disclose, disarm or face serious consequences.”

Bush is still rolling out the WMD chestnut as justification for the war in this, his last press conference. And he’s apparently only disappointed that no WMDs were found, which I find odd given that he gave a speech about yellow cake uranium knowing that the information he was stating to the American public was false. 

You know, when I was growing up, that was called “lying.”

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Life: Keep Hope Alive

Reed fell asleep in my arms tonight. It’s the best gift I could have ever asked for. 

It’s been a while since he’s fallen asleep as I’ve held him. I know the gaps between these special times will grow and grow until some point they are gone forever. The thought of that is crushing. I guess in some ways that burden of knowledge for parents is the flip side to the blissful innocence we try to guard for our children. Last night, as I turned a toy box inside out and rolled it up in the dark outside by the trash bin (no recycling for this stuff, lest the jolly fat guy gets found out), I felt at once both complicit and dutiful, as though I were perpetuating a lie but at the same time alright about it. We were careful last night to cover our tracks, to deliver on that promise that Santa holds for the young. In a year when I’ve had to explain death to our son, I wasn’t about to have Santa flicker out of his life, too. 

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve wondered why the season felt ‘off’ for me, as if I or it (or both) was out of place. And I’d heard others say similar things. I don’t think I realized what was wrong until just a moment ago. It’s about hope. News media errantly so often tries to quantify the Christmas season in terms of retail sales, when what it is really trying to gauge is how much hope we have. And while perhaps we manifest that hope in  what we’re willing to spend at the store (i.e. here’s how hopeful we are about our economic situation, our relationships and therefore how we give), it can and should come in other outlets. 

But with death and the constant background din of the bad economy, layoffs, foreclosures, it’s been hard to shake the feeling of malaise. Indeed, of hopelessness. 

After days and days of bleak, grey skies, of my beautiful daughter asking in a worried voice “Where sun go?”, of, frankly, constantly looking down because there just wasn’t anything seemingly to look up for, the clouds parted today–literally and figuratively–and I saw the brightness of the sun, and (perhaps a more religious man than I would say) maybe even the Son. 

Isn’t that something we cling to in these cycles we experience? As the earth tilts from the sun and the whole world seems to wither and die, don’t we frail humans need some light to give us hope? 

I suppose in many ways, today was the kind of day we should try to have more often. We simply stayed in our jammies all day, played with toys and ate cookies. And it was great. I’d like to wrap today up and stick it in a snow globe, so whenever I needed to, I could simply take it off a shelf and have it all over again.

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