ssssssss....

...urrrrge!

What the crap is a nonbinding resolution? I know you think it will help but it won't. You are the Senate, you are 100 of the most powerful men and women in the world. You have the power to make something happen! It's in the constitution, what's left of it, anyway! ( see relevant sections of Article 1 behind this cut )

See? You get to call the shots you weak-willed idiot children! Not only that, your constituents voted for something a little bit firmer than a ridiculous "Non Binding Resolution." Come on! Napoleon Chimpface and Shoot Em Up Dick are used to getting their way just about no matter what. Nonbinding Resolutions are exactly as difficult for them to ignore as wet toilet tissue in the white house crapper. I didn't campaign for you to write dipshit resolutions. Go write a fucking law, you morons! Go. Write. A. Bill. And put in it how you're not going to pay for any more of this nonsense. Here, I'll write it for you. Why not? The Current Occupant's running dogs and various lobbies like Big Oil have been writing legislation for you for years.

The Omnibus War Halting Bill of 2007
1. Congress won't pay for any more adventures and war bullshit in the Middle East.
2. The troops will pack up and come the hell home. Congress will pay for that.
3. Cheney can eat it.
3.a.1 Cheney must answer a series of difficult trivia questions.
3.a.2 Cheney must answer a series of difficult questions about his relationship to defense contractors.
3.a.3 Cheney must answer a series of difficult questions about his relationship to extraction industries.
3.b.1 Cheney must describe in clear detail the events of February 11, 2006.
3.b.2 Cheney must turn in his badge and his gun.
3.c.1 Cheney shall be prohibited from holding any more offices, elected or appointed.
3.d.1 Cheney must give 1/10th of his net wealth to homeless shelters upon completion of his term.
4. $77 million earmarked for federal construction of a bridge between Alaska and the Kamchatka peninsula.
5. $4 million earmarked for tea cozies to be hand knit and delivered to Alaskan families.

Okay, I only threw in numbers 4 and 5 because Ted Stevens called me while I was making this journal entry and said I had to.

See how easy that was?! Wow. I guess I should run for office. Yes. Olsen in 2008, bitches.

our eyes are open our eyes are open

Dear Generation Y,

Guess what? We're breeding. You know what this gets us? In addition to the awesome sensation of being a parent to one of the greatest persons I've ever met, I'm making someone who is going to drive you a-holes right up a wall. That's right, my kid is from a different generation than Gen Y, and she (and her little bro/sis) are going to make you guys feel the way you make me feel most of the time right now.

I totally get it now. It's one thing when our parents say "I hope you have kids that drive you crazy just like you did to me," I mean, I think I get how that's going to go down when Eleanor's a teenager. But it's more than that. Her values and interests and attitudes might be a reaction to mine, or might be a reflection of them. But one thing's for sure: when she's 14, and some of you are in your late 20s early 30s? She's going to make you guys feel so frickin' old. She's going to say shit that you guys will never imagine, that you guys won't believe you could possibly ever have said.

She's going to dress in the most maddening ways--not just to me, whose right it is to be anxious about whether she's growing up too soon because I don't relish the thought of you little perverts drooling over her--but she's going to wear shit that you think is totally stupid and asinine, and totally get away with it. She's going to be strong and powerful and pandered to by the whole fricking world, the whole mechanisms of marketing and industrial mass culture are going to be bent to making her happy and you will get nothing. No one will give two craps about you and your needs.

YOU will be middle management and my people (probably not me, but who knows) will be EXECUTIVES and we will tell YOU to work your asses off to convince HER and HER FRIENDS to spend their money making US rich. YOU will carry out the work of pandering to HER, to make HER happy, in order to make ME happy. Your only revenge, your ONLY HOPE for Revenge against her is to settle down; settle down and start makin like bunnies. And when you do, I'll be there, sounding a lot like my old man or maybe like YOUR old man, cackling, plotting, fixing the price of trade goods, signing defense appropriations, justifying ridiculous wars, puttering in the garden, paying for the Boomers' social security screw ups, still quoting movies and tv shows to your annoyance, remembering, and occasionally hearing you say "you guys used to be cool." We were Never cool. I wish we could have been, but deep in your hearts, you never liked us and we were too compromised, too inchoate and incoherent for you. You won't like our kids either. O how you'll loathe our kids, no matter how good and bright and well-intentioned they'll be when they leave our clutches. You'll dislike them, no matter how optimistic and exciting they'll be, you won't like them. But you'll be buying them durian-oxygen lattes and MangoSteam or GoogleBooks gift cards or whatever, in order to ask them focus group questions. So you can find out how to get them to like you. It doesn't end. Nothing. Ever. Ends.

I have seen things you people couldn't imagine. I have seen attack ships on fire off the shoulders of Orion, c-beams glittering in the dark near Tannhauser Gate. And all these things will be lost, like tears in rain.

"Walking in space we find the purpose of peace/The beauty of life you can no longer hide." What a piece of work is man. "Wide! Wide! Wide!" The cosmic ballet goes on. Selah.

Love,
Jon