"I feel sorry for my TV, having to show all this crap," said Butt-head and as I watched last night's episode of the Democratic Convention I also felt sorry for a formerly great nation that is now cursed with this pack of worthless, lying parasites who are dragging it down to ruin and destruction. The lies came on so fast and thick that I thought my head was going to explode. The tinkling piano music was trotted out to underlay the heart-wrenching tale of the soldiers, told that they were going to a sunny two-week vacation in Iraq, who arrived to find themselves in a desert version of Stalingrad, cooked up by the Evil BushLied regime; and who then returned to a nation filled with unsympathetic Right-Wingers and the always Troop-Friendly peaceniks to find that the BushLied government isn't spending enough money on the broken-down Veteran's Administration.
But the Dems are going to fix that. Not only will the VA fix wounds acquired in battle but vets will have life-long Cadillac coverage for themselves, their families and assorted relatives and friends. In fact, what the heck! They're gonna give free, unlimited access to everything medical to everybody who wants it. Costs? The Federal Government in charge of the entire medical industry will LOWER costs! We'll just get the money from the selfish jerks that are rolling in cash from the BushLied tax-cut giveaway! All this was said with certainty and aplomb, we'll snap our fingers and it will happen!
The Dishonesty-Fest was kicked off by the lovely and talented BJ. The Irrumator In Chief basked in the howls and applause of the crowd of ecstatic Fellatores on the floor, on their knees one more time to the Big Bent Enchilada! It was so nice to hear him, yet again, taking credit for the balanced Budget he vetoed three times. "That's what you'll get if you put a Democrat in the White house again!" Don't bet on it, you chumps! Before Newt and the Boys took over in '94 there wasn't any talk of anything being balanced anywhere.
BJ started off strong but he ran out of gas quickly. By the time he finished his high-speed, non-stop string of self-serving lies, half-truths, twisted sophistries and political fables it seemed that the strange lassitude that has dogged this sorry convention like the Ghost of Hamlet's Father stole over the delegates. The applause become tepid and even feeble. The shots of the idiotically grinning Chelsea became more frequent as the cameras searched in vain for enthusiasm amongst the delegates. This pack of aging time-servers are probably so used to being totally inert in their regular jobs as bureaucrats and ward-healers that they can't be roused out of their governmental torpor for more than a few seconds before the overweaning institutional lassitude reasserts itself.
But let's not mince words here. BJ was as good as it got last night and the next Big Name took the level of the show way down. The Foon-faced loser, the holder of three purple hearts who never saw the inside of a medic station or a hospital, the holder of a Bronze Star for a battle with no casualties on either side, the veteran of a Nixon-inspired secret mission to Cambodia which occurred while LBJ was president, the military Big Gun of the Democratic Party, the Marxist gigolo John Francois Kerry stepped up to the microphone and explained how six long tiresome years of the Democrats lying, accusing our troops of torture and wanton murder and attempting at every turn to defund or withdraw them, vilifying George W Bush as a Hitler-like predator, opposing and exposing every intelligence effort against the Islamonazi terrorists and sucking up to their front men in foreign governments or the faculties of formerly great universities; in short the total betrayal of our country and support for its sworn enemies, was a species of patriotism. Better than that, it turns out that this curious form of Americanism is totally responsible for all of our successes, including the victory in Iraq that a year ago the Dems were unanimously declaring to be impossible!
But Kerry, again, ran out of gas long before he was finished broadcasting this embarrassing platter of mendacity. As the political temperature inside the hall continued to drop his throaty, stumbling monotone failed to stir the slumbering torpid reptiles on the floor into even a vestige of enthusiasm for this 24-carat phony and his donkey-like braying about the War On Terror the Dems have just won in spite of the awful Bush-Cheney Cabal. What could be worse?
Biden could be worse; he could be and he was. Like an aging racehorse there probably was a team of doctors that attacked him before he went on, deftly using their needles to botox his eyes wide open and freeze his mouth into a corpse-like toothy grimace and the ultimate race-track vet with the three-inch-long needle filled with Go-juice, so this aging old nag can make it around the track before he collapses into a burned-out heap off camera. It's a tribute to Biden that he can follow BJ and Kerry and still come across as a supreme egotist. Me, me, me!
Biden assured us that the crazy drilling campaign the Evil Republicans have embarked on at the behest of their equally evil Oil Company masters is an unnecessary assault on the planet about to be saved by a wave of clean, renewable energy sources that will magically spring from the trillion or so dollars the Dems have spent on Green Research in the last thirty years. He explained to us how Bush's limited, low-level, strictly-focused talks with Iranian officials (a mistake in my mind) was the complete vindication of Barak Obama's promise that the President of the United States would meet, without preconditions, with the murderous lunatics who are running Iran. Well, Pelosi put on a hijab and crawled on her knees to Bashir Assad, didn't she? Jimmy The Jerk French-kissed the head of Hamas, didn't he? We all know the Dems are going to defund the military and turn the world over to a pack of lawless, nuclear-armed savages so why belabor the issue? Biden, in a voice that droned on endlessly, ran through the evasions and talking points ad nauseum. He went on too long making the end a dangerous letdown...until...surprise, surprise...the Messiah walked among us! Barak emerged and brought down the house by not saying anything, a merciful relief after that evening's avalanche of Bull Pucky.
They tried to get Tyra banks to MC this reality show but it turns out that she spends her time wearing a tinfoil hat to reflect Martian Z-beams and writing laudatory letters to Ron Paul, but she would have fit right in. You wanted to hear a voice saying harshly, "Leave the runway!" Maybe America's overtaxed, oppressed, newly-poor masses, yearning to breathe free will turn on this crowd of liars and send them packing this November. We can only hope. Meanwhile I've been reassuring my skittish TV set that after Algore and the Messiah tonight it can sleep a well- deserved sleep until next week when I'll be sure to be screaming at it again.
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