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November 27, 2007


Presidents Bubbas and the Performing Arts

What I have never understood is how red state Bubbas, both those with guns and pickup trucks and their metaphorical kin, the socially angry anti gay working folks, could have voted into office a guy who participated in the manly arena of organized sports as a cheerleader.
Rah, rah,"Give me an A", all neatly gussied up in matching outfits. Come on guys, give me a break.
Now we have Rudi who all Bubbas know is the epitome of water-boarding, bring-em-on toughness. His 911 machismo has been sold and shouted and dramatized from sea to shining sea. Given that he adores and glitters amidst drama and pathos, it is of course consistent that as an opening act of this fearsome charismatic leader he would form and lead an opera club as his great social engagement in high school.
Consistently, perhaps, he disclosed to the world that he was seeking to divorce his wife (she hadn't been informed, oops) while the enticing cameras and microphones captured his news. Consistently, perhaps, he withdrew from the potentially world changing opportunity to serve his nation on the Iraq Study Commission to lined his pockets while delighting audiences eager to hear the dramatic hero speak.
I mean guys, enough with the performances.
And I'm not saying that belting out librettos with large women in clanking armor is not particularly manly but it does set my dog a howlin.

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For these guys, "the plays the thing" because none of it is real to them.

Which is pathetic.
Mirror mirror on the wall who's the greatest psychopath of all? Eh what?
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