Here Comes Da Judge

I don’t know anything about Sonia Sotomayor. I have no idea if Obama made the right choice or how she will be on the Supreme Court should she be seated. But I do love anything that gets the Republitwits all sweaty and sputtering. Let’s take a look at some of their statements from the past few days:

Mike Huckabee: “The clearest indication yet that President Obama’s campaign promises to be a centrist and think in a bipartisan way were mere rhetoric.”
The fact that you think anyone cares what you think is a clear indication you lost brain cells along with all that weight. Implicit in our rejection of you as a presidential candidate was our desire for you to just go away.

Newt Gingrich on twitter: “Saying that her background as a Hispanic female allowed her to understand cases in a different, better, manner than her white male contemporaries. Imagine a judicial nominee said, ‘my experience as a white man makes me better than a Latina woman’ new racism is no better than old racism.
Aside from the fact you took her quote out of context, you should know a racist Newt since you are one. You would also know if she cheated on her spouse since you have experience with that too. Oh, also lying, obfuscation, bloviating, fear mongering and general douchebaggery.

Mitt Romney: called the pick of Sotomayor “troubling”
What’s troubling Mitt Rombot is your belief that your opinion was solicited any more than Huckabee’s. By the way Mittens, have you ever had an original idea or do you read your life off of a talking points memo?

Michael Steele: “Republicans will reserve judgment on Sonia Sotomayor until there has been a thorough and thoughtful examination of her legal views.”
What he’s really saying: I’m releasing a vanilla statement because I’ve tried my “street” persona, my “buffoon” character, my “bad cop” routine and my “duh, I’m a moron” shtick and gotten my ass kicked for all of them.

Rush Limbaugh: “Do I want her to fail? Yeah. Do I want her to fail to get on the court? Yes! She’d be a disaster on the court. Do I still want Obama to fail as President? Yeah. He’s going to fail anyway, but the sooner the better.”
Do I want you to choke on a Bob Evan’s brown and serve sausage while having your third plate of breakfast? Yeah. Do I want you to fail to negotiate a turn in your car while secretly listening to NPR and slide under the rear wheels of one of those super sized dump trucks that haul stone from a quarry? You bet. Do I want you to have an aneurysm while squeezing out your morning dump into a lily-white bowl? Yes, and the sooner the better!

Do You Remember Who Finished Third?

This past Sunday the ESPN bottom line had this to say:

Castroneves wins 500, Danica 3rd

This was the announcement that Helio Castroneves had won the Indianapolis 500, one of the most prestigious auto races in the world. What got my attention though was ESPN feeling the need to let us know that Danica Patrick finished third in the race.

I’m not a racing fan but as a sports fan I know what the big events are and who the participants will be. I also understand what a thrill winning the biggest race of the year must be and this was Castroneves’s third time in the winner’s circle. To me, the unnecessary addition of Patrick’s placement took something away from the announcement.

The bigger question is why are they still reporting where Danica Patrick finishes in every race? She’s been on the IndyCar circuit for 5 years and has 1 win. I get why she was a big deal 5 years ago: Not many women drive in any of the professional racing leagues, be it NASCAR, IndyCar or the NHRA and she has the potential to be very good. But when does public fascination give way to reality? She’s been a member of two good racing teams and in 68 races has won 1 time.

I’m not a golf fan but I get annoyed when I hear “Angel Cabrera won the Byron Nelson Classic today. And Tiger finished 13th.” Again, I think that takes away from the winner’s time in the spotlight. But I do understand it even if I don’t like it. Tiger Woods is the best golfer in the world and one of the best there’s ever been. Every time he steps onto the golf course he has a better than average chance to win the tournament.

The same can’t be said of Danica Patrick. She doesn’t win. 5 years and 68 races with good equipment and she doesn’t win. So why is ESPN reporting where she finishes if it isn’t 1st? When does the whole “we’re paying attention because she’s a woman” become “we’ll pay attention again when she starts winning”? For me the time has passed.

Wasting Time

The Republican National Committee has passed a resolution that states: Resolved, that we the members of the Republican National Committee recognize that the Democratic Party is dedicated to restructuring American society along socialist ideals.

Guys, gather around me here for a minute, I have something to say and you all need to hear it. A little closer, ok who has the old spice on? Tone it down dude; a little goes a long way, all right? Now settle down, I have something to say to you:

You guys are without a doubt the laziest, dumbest, most arrogant, most disingenuous sack of pantloads I have ever had the displeasure to watch try to represent this country. We are in the middle of an economic crisis that is adding 500,000 people to the unemployment roles every month, families are losing their homes, banks are bleeding the citizenry dry, we are fighting 2 wars in which soldiers are dying every day and this resolution is how you waste your fucking time?

You were elected to represent this country and work together to solve problems, keep us safe and strong and lead us into prosperity. How in God’s name does this do any of those things? Stop jerking each other off and do something, anything, which is a step in a positive direction.

The Republican National Committee is “resolved”. Oooo, you’re “resolved”! You’re also repugnant, revolting, retreads, revisionist, regrettable and repackaged. I’m so glad you’re “resolved” because who knows where we would be if you were waffling on this issue. Oh that’s right, this isn’t a real issue; just one more thing the republicans made up to avoid doing anything meaningful.

James Harrison, Idiot of the Week

There is a tradition in America that the champions of the 4 major professional sports and the National Champions in the college sports get a visit to the white house for their accomplishments to be celebrated. The players and coaches get to have their photos taken with the president and chat with him for a few minutes. I don’t know why we do it, but it’s been going on for as long as I can remember.

This Thursday is the scheduled visit of the NFL’s Pittsburg Steelers who won the Super Bowl in February of this year. One player, James Harrison, has stated he won’t be going to the ceremony because he doesn’t view it as special because, “I feel like that if Arizona (Cardinals) had won, Obama would have invited them to the White House.”

Uh, yeah James, that’s kind of how it works. The WINNING team gets the perk of an invitation to the WHITE HOUSE where the MOST POWERFUL MAN IN THE WORLD lives and works. What, you wanted Obama to just invite the whole team over some random Saturday for a beer and taco night and watch an NBA playoff game together like you’re all old frat buddies? He’s THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES you dumbass, he’s a little busy.

Here’s James at the doctor’s office:
You took Mr. Schwartz right after me. I feel like if he had been here first you would have taken him before me. I’m finding another doctor.

James at the grocery store:
You waited on this lady right after ringing up my cheetos and hemorrhoid cream. I feel like if she had gotten in line before me you would have rung her up first. I’m not shopping here anymore.

James on his interception return for a touchdown in the Super Bowl:
I feel like if I had been tackled before crossing the goal line they wouldn’t have given me the touchdown. I’m retiring from football.

James Harrison, our idiot of the week!

Glenn Beck: The Sad Birthday Clown of the Far Right

He sits in front if his dressing room mirror in solitude, wiping off the grease paint, putting the red rubber nose back in its case. The big floppy shoes don’t come off as easily as they went on. His feet are swollen after hours of standing up against socialism for the salivating moralists of the fringe right.

The clown stares into the mirror and gives himself a hard look, wondering, is this who I really am or just who I’ve become? Do I really believe the outlandish and borderline psychotic things I say? Are my crying jags in front of a television audience real or do I just know how to sell a crowd? Do I really have the common people in the folds of my ridiculously oversized, polka-dotted clown suit?

“I don’t know,” he thinks, “I’ve always just seen myself as an entertainer and a bad one at that. But when I say socialism my slavish minions gnash their teeth and rend their clothing. When I say my ass itches, they offer to scratch it for me.”

The paint is off, his public face now just residue on a towel. He hangs up the suit, placing the giant shoes lovingly underneath so it looks like the outfit still has life. With a wan smile, he gives the lapel flower one quick squirt, splashing water off his face and he laughs with a snort. Cheers him up every time.

Leaving the room, the clown flicks the light off, allowing the darkness to swallow his persona. With the door closed, his mind turns to tomorrow. He has precious few hours to make up facts and create conspiracies for the next performance. There’s always another show and the clown has to be “on” or the kiddies get restless. He doesn’t want them leaving the party to go to Sean, Rush or Bill’s house. It’s all about the frizzy orange hair and the fake moral outrage that keeps it glued on.

Out in the night, where real life is happening, he takes a tentative step. No one notices. No one revels or bleats his name. Haltingly the human being begins his trek home, feeling lost and alone.

The Miseducation of Michele Bachmann

Michele, Michele, Michele, what are we going to do with you? I’ve been unkind to you in this blog and unfortunately that will continue as long as you say things like this:

The Hoot-Smalley Act, enacted by FDR, contributed to turning the recession into a depression.

First, it’s the Smoot-Hawley Act
Second, it was written by 2 republicans
Third, it was signed into law by republican president Herbert Hoover

Michele, I have some advice for you, and this comes from the heart:

For the love of our merciful God will you please pick up a history book, text book, encyclopedia, chapbook, magazine, ebook, ezine, pamphlet, tract, broadside, newspaper, booklet, brochure, codex, compendium, dissertation, leaflet, essay, op-ed piece, omnibus, periodical, treatise, manual, monograph, college doctoral thesis, bazooka Joe gum wrapper or log onto Google, Yahoo, Ask Jeeves, Wikipedia, Wiki Answers, Alta Vista, Dogpile, MSN, Netscape, Webcrawler, Icerocket, All The Web, Hotbot or Lycos and educate yourself before you open your mouth again!

Creed: The Reunion No One Asked For

It’s time to get out the B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T. machine, the Biological Utilization Lying and Larceny Shinola Hypocritical Intelligence Translator which we here at Cosmic Overdrive use when a celebrity or politician says something that doesn’t smell quite right.

The rock band Creed, which broke up a few years ago, has, according to Rolling Stone, reformed. Singer Scott Stapp is quoted as saying he missed his band mates and they felt the same way intimating this may be their reason for as he calls it, a “rebirth” of Creed.

So, Scott, you don’t think it could be because your solo career and new band formed by the other members, Alter Bridge, have had little success on their own? Does that ring a bell? Playing clubs instead of stadiums? No radio play versus 24 hour saturation? Dating JC Penney Catalog models instead of Playboy playmates? Any of this sound familiar?

Here’s how B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T. imagines their reunion meeting went:

Stapp: So guys, what have you been doing since we broke up?

Rest of the band: We formed a new band, Alter Bridge.

Stapp: Cool. How’s that going?

Rest of the band: We’ve sold a dozen CDs out of the back of our manager’s Astrovan.

Stapp: Yeah? Well I recorded a solo CD. Sold 13 copies, mostly to my wife’s family.

Rest of the band: Yeah, well, 2 more people just bought ours while we were standing here, so that’s 14.

Stapp: Uh huh. Well I met 3 people last night that were definitely thinking about going out and buying my CD in the next few days, so that’s 15 for me.

Rest of the band: My uncle is going to buy one for all his fellow Wal Mart greeters, so then, technically, we’ll be in the largest retailer in the world.

Stapp: Yeah? Well my dad owns Wal mart and he’ll see that never happens!

Rest of the band: Your dad doesn’t own Wal mart, he sells boat insurance.

Stapp: Nuh uh.

Rest of the band: Yuh huh.

Stapp: Ok, ok. This is stupid. Our careers have settled to the bottom of the lake. You want to just get Creed back together?

Rest of the band: Yeah, all right.

Stapp: Cool. I’m still going to be an asshole and I get first choice of the women backstage.

Rest of the band: Whatever. We just want to play to more than 16 people. That one guy follows us to all of the shows . . . and he smells like cheese.

Stapp: Sorry, I wasn’t listening. I was practicing my messianic posing.

Rest of the band: This is gonna suck.