Executive Orders

When they turn the pages of history,
When these days have passed long ago,
Will they read of us with sadness,
For the seeds that we let grow?

We turned our gaze from the castles in the distance.
Eyes cast down on the path of least resistance.

Cities full of hatred fear and lies,
Withered hearts and cruel, tormented eyes.
Scheming demons dressed in kingly guise,
Beating down the multitude and scoffing at the wise.

The hypocrites are slandering
The sacred halls of truth,
Ancient nobles showering
Their bitterness on youth.

Can't we find the minds that made us strong?
Cant we learn to feel what's right and wrong?

-Rush
"A Farewell to Kings"

Tomorrow marks an historic transition in America. Some will celebrate with unbridled, wild abandon, while others will mourn far too bitterly the change from one President to the next. I have to admit that I have a lot of apprehension about the incoming Chief Executive. He has no experience, he's too far to the left, ignorant in too many vital areas, too closely associated with dangerous socialist ideals, too naive and has too many puppeteers pulling his strings.

On the other hand, he's replacing a fucking retarded chimpanzee, who squandered one historic opportunity after another for greatness. Who in turn replaced a philandering idiot married to walking evil, who together did more damage to this country than any enemy could hope to accomplish. Who in turn replaced the chimpanzee's dad, who fell asleep at the helm and set us adrift. Two Democrats, two Republicans. None worth a shit.

You have to go back four Presidents, spanning two decades - a generation! - to find a man worthy enough to be President. Of course, it was the late Ronald Wilson Reagan, 40th President of the Republic, who set the country back on course after the dark days of Vietnam, Watergate, stagflation and the impotent malaise of Jimmy Carter. It took real vision, real courage, and a firm belief that America was better that it had allowed itself to believe it was. He was the first great President in a long time. We have not had a good one since.

Reagan understood certain truths about America:

• We are eternal optimists.
• We are hard working, creative and energetic.
• We believe in truth, justice and Liberty.
• We are a great nation because of our spirit, not government.
• We are a great people because we are self-reliant.
• We have a great future because we have placed our faith and trust in God.
• America, and the promise she keeps for freedom, remains the last, best hope for mankind.
  

A few words of advice for our incoming incumbent: Read history. Seriously, get out some history books and study the past, for that explains how we got where we are and where we could be going, for better or worse depending on the choices we make today. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. Go back, and study the great men who founded this Republic, understand why America has succeeded where others have failed, learn how other men who have sat in the office you will occupy tomorrow have faced challenges far darker that these we face today and prevailed.

I really don't care what political party he represents. I don't care what colour he is. I do care what choices he makes and how the consequences of those choices will affect my children's children. I'm willing to give the man a fair shake. He's got a monumental task ahead of him for the next four years. But history will be unspeakably cruel if he screws up.

So make the right choices, Mr. President. Don't screw this up. History is watching.

Dear America...

An open letter to the voters of the United States of America:

You have elected the government you deserve.

May God have mercy on us all!

Sincerely,

History

Chutzpah, Redefined

El Snob De Musica has a story to tell and it reminded me of one of my own misadventures. Not that I hang out with transvestites at 4 in the morning or anything like that, in spite of what Coyote, Taco, Fett and Blue may tell you. Lies, Damn Lies and Politics, I tell ya!! Tim insists that the story be told, so here goes...

Back in 1986, before I was old, chubby and lazy, which is to say before I learned to drive, I used to run on bicycle tours in the summers between sessions at the University. I rode my bike everywhere back then, and I had a metabolism to support my feeding habits; sadly, I still have the feeding habits but not the metabolism. Or the bike. Traded up to a motorcycle in '89 and never looked back.

Our '86 summer tour started off at the Old City section of the Twin Cities (same location The Skating Gnu managed to make a slapshot that pinged both pipes and scooted crosswise behind the goalie without scoring - read all about it here- needless to say she was PISSED about missing that shot) and went down towards the coast to Myrtle Beach (Home of the Myrtle Beach Open, another story for another time!) then along the coastline through the Frances Marion National Forest, a stopover at Sullivan's Island and then on into Old Charleston. Five days at about 75 miles per day. Good times.

We had great weather all the way down until we got to the coast. Something was brewing offshore. While we were pedaling through the National Forest, we were sheltered from whatever it was until we reached Sullivan's Island. By then we could tell it was gonna be a wild ride into the city. We had no idea how wild until we topped the Cooper River Bridge and came to a complete standstill, thanks to a steady 50 mph headwind. Turns out we came into Charleston from the North and Hurricane Charley spun in from the Southwest. Not much of a hurricane at that point, but it was rain enough for us, and the wind did actually stop us in our tracks.

By the time we reached our accommodations in the Old City (First Scots Presbyterian Church) we were completely soaked. The city was getting more rain than it could handle, and we were actually paddling in two-foot flooding the last leg. We looked liked drowned rats, and felt worse.

Nevertheless, a quick shower and a dryer full of fresh clothes did the trick and after the rain stopped we were out on the town to take in the sights. Down by Battery Row, one of my comrades and I were poking in and out of open homes, shops, and eateries. We came up on one grand home on East Bay Street where a whole bunch of people were streaming in and out. Thinking it was an open house, we just strode right in...

Right into a SEA OF TUXEDOS!!!

Imagine if you will, two bikers in bandannas, cutoff jean shorts, torn shirts, docksiders and no socks facing off against a house full of James Bond stunt doubles. We looked at them, they looked at us, both sides in complete surprise. We'd walked all the way inside, and there was no turning back.

A pair of gorgeous girls in antebellum dress walked up to us, winked at each other and asked us for our invitations. Before I could think of an honourable exit strategy, my buddy pats his pockets down, points right at me and says, "He's got 'em!" They turn to face me with gracious smiles and expectant stares.

I quietly explained that we were sorry to intrude, that we thought this was an open tour or something, please don't arrest us, etc. One of the girls, smiled and replied in that deliciously sweet Southern accent that only a young lady of good breeding can do, "That's okay, come on in, have some refreshments and shake hands with the next Lieutenant Governor of the Great State of South Carolina!"

Somehow we'd managed to crash the kickoff party for Tom Hartnett's election campaign for Lt. Governor! Too late to cut and run, we walked in with every ounce of pride we could muster and had ourselves a grand time. Our second time through the hors d'oeuvre line we got to schmooze with the host himself, with a flock of penguins turning green with envy looking on.

Nice guy, by the way. Got to shake his hand, still have the campaign button he gave me.