Marc and Debra Blain have real problems

A slight non-musical exploration while I rejoice in one evil (the Colts) defeating another, greater evil (the Jets), while the greatest evil of them all (the Favre) mentally prepares for how he will swiftly and publicly blame Peterson for the loss. (It's tied at twenty-one right now, but there's no way the Saints lose this).

Really dodged a bullet here. As Chairman Mao once said, "We live in some interesting god-hole-fucking times." Perhaps it was Ming the Merciless. I forget my American History.

Speaking of America, this whole "USA" thing is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because when I'm filling out some international form or declaration or shit like that, when I get to the COUNTRY line I can write three silly letters and be done. And two of them are vowels! And the third is like the most popular consonant. Those letters don't even need to be written out, they're assumed and shit.

I'm very nearly drunk right now.

The downside of such a catchy acronym is that people can sculpt ridiculousness based solely around its simplicity, with a little warmongering richness added for flavor. A. and I moved here last Spring and we've enjoyed its lack of an overt political heaviness. We're both rabid independents and we get pretty worked up when it comes to (I think Favre is hurt!!!!) people who feel entitled. We're so independent, in fact, that we bucked the system and never got around to re-registering to vote. Washington can eat shit.

Who knows if us not voting in the special Massachusetts The-Future-Is-Brilliant-and/or-Fucked senatorial election will matter in the long run. (Also the local election to decide if town taxes should (touchdown, Saints!) be raised to build a new police station, and frankly I was more interested in those results. Not interested enough to take three or four minutes to update my voter registration, but still interested. And it was defeated… take that, fuzz!) So back to that entitlement thing. Maybe I would have voted for Brown (probably not) and maybe I would have voted for Coakley (also probably not, particularly because I saw her glad-handing at North Station twice in the last two weeks and noticed her Quadimodo-esque hunch was dangerously under-reported). In fact, I probably would have voted for Joseph P. L. Kennedy because he thought he could win based on coincidence and outright deception. Which is how most elections are won anyway. That guy got one percent of the vote, which might not sound like a lot, except I'm sure seventy-five percent of the people who voted for him thought he was an "actual" Kennedy.

Anyway, Coakley only recently realized that she had to earn (fumble!) our votes, and that's why she lost. In true I-can't-believe-I'm-losing-to-this-guy fashion, Brown did everything short of bitch-slap his daughter when he announced in his victory speech that she was available for sex. He also kept telling us about the truck he drives. Matter of fact, his campaign slogan was "Slip it to my daughter in my truck or the terrorists win."

Onward. This… monument… would have pulverized every political, sensible and ironic fabric of my beautiful mind and body. Marc and Debra Blain have real problems. I like the line comparing the thing to a commercial sign because unfortunately that's what "USA" has become—a brand name that ninnies can holler in unison because it's easy to say, and it's an easy way to pretend to be patriotic. When your national anthem is about war and your veterans memorials honor violence instead of sacrifice, it's not unfair to accuse "Occupying force!" when your humanitarian aid workers arrive bearing machine guns.

Anyway, I play Risk online with my friends, and Kamchatka is a key country (or key oblast, for my Russian friends). I've been staring at the word "Kamchatka" off and on for years playing this game, and just now I still had to look up how to spell it. I don't wish I lived in Kamchatka, because I like it here and it's where I keep my stuff. But I wish my country were called "Kamchatka." Or "Eastern Australia." Even "Tinycockistan." Anything that would make people think twice about yelling it over and over when they have nothing better to say.

Tied at twenty-eight.