La La La Hey Hey Hey . . . Goodbye Byrd

by Eco.Soul.Intellectual

I cry not tears of sadness, but tears of joy on hearing Senator/Hitler Robert Byrd's old, racist ass has finally slipped on the banana peel and is kissing the cold slab of a morgue. Back to the ether you go Gringo el Diablo.

Byrd not only should be the poster-board of a hate-history grandfather clause for political office, but there should be an age cap. You can't have walked in the time of George Washington and Chicken George and still be in office.

And why is it that sons-of-a-bitches like he and Strom Thurmond live to be old as Moses?

Fuckers.

And who keeps reinstating this dude? He's been skeeting dust bunnies in his fabricated wet dreams since the the King speech on Washington. How could he be an effective legislature? He wasn't.

I know the physical vigor that it takes to be a political official and a 90-something man who shakes and farts between quoting the Constitution doesn't have the energy. Sorry, viagra and uppers can only do so much.

Hmmm, so let's look at the resume of Byrd
KKK member
Anti-voting Rights Act political official

Representative of Incest and Coal mine exploitation in West Virginia

Okay stop, that's enough. Good riddance. He is now with that negro Riley of the Boondocks who salivates when he thinks he is touching the hem of God in the form of Ronald Reagan but he is really taking tequila shots up the ass.

Heartless you might say. Oh no, I hope Byrd's soul finds light, but in the words of my Jewish compadres, "Never Again".

Unlike much of mainstream American news, I will not forgot the sordid past of Byrd and the folks he undermined and probably killed due to his racist actions.

Please God Forgive Me! I ALMOST Wanted Rush Limbaugh Dead

(Slim here!  I'll be blogging for my Blogfather Rippa while he's out.)

As you may have heard by now, Rush Limbaugh was rushed to the hospital yesterday with chest pains (and is now resting comfortably).  He was vacationing in Hawaii, when paramedics were called to his room.

God forgive me, I almost wanted him dead.  Damn it, part of me had resolved itself to not giving two damns if he croaked.  And I feel bad for it, because I am a Christian (not perfect, just Christian) and a human being.  I know it's not good to wish ill on others, but damn it if Rush Limbaugh wasn't reaping what he has sewn last night.

I don't know if that was God talking to him last night, urging him to get his life together or it will end, although I believe that was mostly it.  I do hope that he emerges from this a changed person, willing to bring people together, not set them apart.

For those people bitching about people "wishing Rush Limbaugh dead", I just have to say two simple words: Fuck off.

Do You Remember The Time?

My mother called me this morning from NYC to talk about the passing of Michael Jackson and that's when it hit me. She said she wanted to make sure that I was ok. I asked her why she felt the need to do that. And she said because she knows me being the oldest of her kids she knows I would remember growing up in a household where all I heard was James Brown and Michael Jackson. When she said that, I cried. Yes, I cried like a baby. I cried because my mother took me back to a period in my life when there were no troubles and life was good.

You know how everybody always says that Mike was the boy who never grew up? Well, maybe that was the gift or beauty of Michael Jackson. Maybe that was the draw to his persona. Maybe we all wished we could do that -- not grow up that is. Now that I think of it, maybe that's why his death is so significant. Maybe, just maybe our childhood died in that UCLA hospital on June 25th. As my mother spoke to me, I could tell that she too was feeling like me. As she spoke I could picture the smile on her face as she recounted those days of old. The days when either her or my father would spin records and dance around the living room happily before their divorce, and the eventual decimation of our family.

Life has been hectic for us all, and I suppose even in his death, his magic or the magic that was Michael Jackson has once again managed to take us to a place that we all miss. He may be gone, but through his timeless music those days of old will live on forever. I never had a Jheri Curl, wore a sequined glove or a red or black leather jacket with zippers. But somehow I still managed as a child to dream, and dream big to be like Mike.You can say or bring up all the negative things you want about him, but trust me, none of that will kill the spirit of love he brought to the world. Yes, today we all now wish we were kids again.

I know I do.