Monday Blah Blah Blahs

Ah, fuck shit, it's Monday, in't it?

Bad enough that yesterday was punctuated by the closing down of our local Route 9, preventing any passage from here to Brattleboro -- no matinee as planned, no bringing my son Dan up for supper -- but I'm not bitching about that, cuz it was a way worse Sunday for the as-yet unnamed poor bastard on a motorcycle who crossed the center line on Route 9 and slammed head-on in a semi coming the other direction.

Hence the closing of Route 9 for 3+ hours.

Jeeeeeeee-sus.

This is the third biker accident I know of on that route caused by crossing the center line, a practice I see many cars indulge in as well on that curvy bit of road.

No, that was bad, but things are worse all over.

We've collectively crossed the center line, and the semi's unforgiving grill is a hair-breadth away, and we act like it simply isn't happening.

I'm fuming this morning over our current ruling patriarchs, who blithely

deny both the real-world repercussions of their actions on the global stage -- repercussions many of us predicted, seeing how the military solution would play into Osama's plan all along,

while remaining blissfully uncaring of

and the most intimate consequences of their domineering bullshit (check out the Monday, September 18, 2006 post), too. Why care about Global Warming, right?

Man, I could go on and on, but you know the routine (and if you don't, you've successfully negotiated burying your head-in-ass neck deep).

Can nothing knock these arrogant motherfuckers off their high horse? Bush, Cheney, Rice, Rumsfeld, all of 'em speak of "freedom" and wrap that word around their every callous decision or action, like it's a lozenge to ease the pain of Guantanamo force-feeding tubes or lubricant for the latest population-wide ass-reaming they're indulging.

Though I know it will be dire times for everyone, I really can't wait for this US Empire to fall to its bloody knees. We deserve whatever happens to us.

The latest torture vote after an ultimately compromised stand by principled Republicans

really is the last straw: we're hopeless.

We can talk all we want about American ideals, we've sold them all down the river and are too busy indignantly waving flags to notice or care. We lie, wage war for no stated reason, torture, kidnap, imprison without the acknowledging the basest rule of international law, wring our hands over General Motors like it isn't endemic of the whole shooting-match -- and that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Which is, like, melting away at a faster rate than scientists had previously calculated, based on the erosive impact of hidden 'black lakes' and such, though Bush thinks it's all as illusory as "evilution."

But, hey, it's Monday, right?

Must just be Monday.

I'm off to work -- you want cheerier reading, check out my weekend posts you might have missed as yet. I didn't even mention Chavez or The Devil once.

It's all about Cthulhu, who's looking friendlier by the minute.

Move over, Barney; Cthulhu has a song to sing.

Hmmm, wait a minute, this is cheering me up.

Heck, it's election season -- six weeks to go -- let's think outside the box.

And remember -- the Old Ones just need a little doorway to make it all theirs.

We won't have to wait until November 2008!

Vote in a few Cthulhu cronies, and the whole shithouse goes up in chunks!

They'll just move right in, like shit through a goose, like ten tanks overthrowing the Korean government!

Cthulhu is a great alternative to two more years of Bush!

Bring on the reign of the Old Ones!

If we're going to suffer patriarchs, let's at least suffer beneath the yoke of elder beings that predate humanity!

Nyarlanthotep for Vice President! He's cuddlier by far than Dickless Cheney! At least Nyarlanthotep's mouth isn't permanently screwed into that perpetually smug Cheney used-car dealer sneer. Hell, Nyar hasn't even got lips to curl at you. Bring on Nyarlanthotep!

You want "extraordinary rendition" as sanctioned government policy? Hell, the sentient Fungi from Yogguth perfected those practices strange eons ago! Who needs secret CIA Eurocamps or alien abductions when you've got a six-foot crustacean with pyramid-like heaps of throbbing tubing where a head should be cheerfully spiriting your sorry ass away for dabbling where you shouldn't dabble?

Anti-choice pro-life policies getting you down? Let Shub-Niggurath, the Goat with a Thousand Young, amp the pro-life agenda! Fecundity Uber Alle! Take that, Christian right-wingers! Let your yeasty wombs spew forth hundreds of drownable toddlers! Go ahead, womb-coveters, hack open those distended bellies, the young will spill out and feed upon your luckless limbs! Let's see if your Jesus Camp wargames for kids can stand up to a righteous dose of Shub-lips's wrath!

Ah, Monday.

Glad to brighten your day.

(Hey, if Pluto really isn't a planet any longer, does that mean Yogguth is?)