Rush To Judgment

I heard about Rush Limbaugh before I heard him on the radio.

And the first thing I heard about him is that he said that the vast majority of Americans are conservative. Which had to be true, because Rush said it.

Rush, in this case, was whispered with reverence. The hapless soul doing the whispering was my Uncle Foggy, who had tuned in to the radio one day in 1988 and never looked back.

By 1988 Uncle Foggy had been unemployed for 10 years. It wasn't his fault that he lost his job. His line of work (lamp manufacturing) was off-shored. He was in his 50s when he got laid off, and then as now, a person that age wasn't going to waltz into another good-paying job.

So Uncle Foggy moved in with my grandparents in their home on Polish Mountain and took care of them as they aged. After they died, my dad and my other uncle demanded that our family allow Foggy to live out his days in the house on Polish Mountain without having to pay rent.

This was not a hardship for me. I loved my uncle Foggy, and I loved going to see him. He was well-read and affable, and a good cook to boot. Not a bad senior citizen to subsidize with my private income, in the form of taxes on an appreciating property.

And then came Rush.

My formerly affable uncle became argumentative. Snarky. He said mean things about liberals and feminazis. He reserved special ire for people sucking the government's tit.

The man was living on $500 a month in Social Security, as well as Medicare and Medicaid.  If not for the privately-subsidized family roof over his head, he would have needed food stamps and SSI. But he couldn't see that Rush (reverent whisper) was talking about people like him.

Point of pride, I have never listened to more than 10 minutes of a Rush Limbaugh broadcast. I knew poison when I heard it. The inside jokes, the "we get this because we're special" jeers. The predator seeking lonely rural people and then inviting them to his toxic worldview with chummy hatred.

I stopped going to see Uncle Foggy. To me that poor man stands as a microcosm of the brutal fallout from the ending of the Fairness Doctrine. So many people who should have known better got sucked into the Limbaugh orbit, and that orbit spins directly into what happened on January 6 of this year.

Therefore, I, Anne Johnson, Grand Wazoo of the Independent Republic of Johnsonia, hereby decree GREAT REJOICING at the DEATH AT A RELATIVELY EARLY AGE of the MENACE known as RUSH LIMBAUGH. To Hell with him, and speedily!

I would love to think that this PUSTULE ON THE BUTTOCK OF SOCIETY won't be replaced in the American psyche, but alas, HE HAS SPAWNED A DEVIL ARMY OF CLONES. With more to come, I'm sure!

It's ironic that this creature died of cancer. His words were cancerous, they spread throughout the land, and they POISONED THE WELL.

The Christians get him for eternity. And if that isn't a good pitch to become Pagan, I don't know what is.

WOOT WOOT! Let's get this party started!

The All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," with malice toward none ... oh, hell. Who am I kidding? Sometimes the world calls upon you to have attitude. It just does.

And perhaps since I'm feeling so bellicose lately, I received a visit today from the Great Goddess Tabiti, sacred to the Scythians and all Amazon warrior women!

Tabiti actually came because I called Her. In fact, I am petitioning Her as I once did Cloacina. Desperate times call for all the Goddess power readily available!

Maybe you have heard that there is going to be a Women's March on Washington on January 21, 2017. I have already made plans to attend, along with Heir and Spare. The current number of attendees is 100,000 -- but that's just people who clicked a button on Facebook. My guess is that this march could bring five times that many women to town.

Word of this activity has reached across the news spectrum, finally filtering its way down into the cesspit occupied by the old fartbag named Rush Limbaugh.

Rush couldn't resist. He called the march "The All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion," and suggested that the women in attendance would synchronize their periods so as to be bleeding all together on that day.

Ask any Amazon, and she will tell you: When your enemies mock you, cleave them in twain with a battleaxe. Having accomplished that, take anything they have of worth and use it against their tribe.

I asked the Goddess Tabiti what she thought of All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion, and she said it sounded wonderful ... noble ... powerful. I agree! Traditional Amazon women were badass as fuck! They wore tattoos and smoked weed and lived in a society where everyone wore pants. Makes you pine for antiquity, doesn't it?

To my veteran and new readers, take heed. I, Anne Johnson, have been named a lieutenant in the All-American First Cavalry Amazon Battalion. I take my commission from Tabiti herself. On January 21, 2017 I will obey the call to march. And you're gonna hear me roar.

The Limbaugh Legacy

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," searching high and low for our sass! Must be here somewhere. Maybe I put it in the washing machine and forgot to get it out.

Oh, here it is, in my suitcase! A little light dusting, and good as new!

While I was visiting my sister, I went to her church for a morning show. Why would I do that? Well, she plays the piano, and her husband plays the guitar, and a former high school teacher of mine plays the cello. And they were all going to play. So I went to hear them. And they were good, if you like listening to seven verses of "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God."

The pastor was sick that morning, so my brother-in-law more or less led the service. What he did was turn it into a Quaker meeting, inviting anyone who wanted to give a testimonial to do so.

Most of the testimonials were what you would expect at such a bash. People either thanked God for healing them or asked God to heal them. One pretty gal told a story of how an angel helped her drive through an ice storm.

Then this old dude stood up. He had an oxygen machine. I can't remember what he said exactly, but here's the jist of it.

"I don't mind bein' controversial. It's just who I am. And I'm a-gonna go down to that Town Hall Meetin' with Senator Cardin. I've got it all written out what I'm a-gonna say. And this is it: I'm gonna tell Senator Cardin that the guvmint can come and kill me any time they're ready, cuz I know where I'm goin'. I'm goin' to meet Jesus. It ain't fair that after a long life a hard work I gotta be targeted fer death cuz I'm old and sick, but these guvmint people gonna have to answer fer that. Not me. I'll be with Jesus."

That was last Sunday. By cracky, I sat down to watch Countdown with Keith last night, and there he was, the dude from Sis's church! He got shown on both Countdown and The Rachel Maddow Show. I guess they were looking for a prime Exhibit A Health Care Wacko, and he fit the bill.

However, this poor man will not go into the infamous Gods Are Bored "moron file." He is not a moron. He just believes what he hears on t.v. and radio. And he's scared. Never mind that stuff about being ready to meet Jesus. If he was ready to meet Jesus, he'd just unplug the oxygen machine and go for a jog in the hot summer sun. He's scared! The pernicious misinformation being spewed by plump insurance companies and right wing talk shows is causing panic in people who probably have enough real worries that they don't need fake ones.

The uncle I visited on the family farm was a Rush Limbaugh devotee for lo, these many years. Never mind the fact that Uncle's children, nieces and nephews served as his social safety net -- otherwise he'd have needed every single socialist service our government doles out -- he believed Rush. Good ol' Rush.

But something has happened. Uncle's cognition is declining. He got a preliminary statement from a recent hospital visit: $40,000 in charges for a six-day stay. He freaked. With tears brimming in his eyes, he said to me, "I can't pay this. What will I do? I can't pay it."

With malice toward government social services, right wing radio/television celebrities have managed to convey a message to senior citizens, especially those who are ailing: You don't deserve to live. This message is sent in two ways. The belittling of domestic spending sends a subconscious message to listeners like my uncle -- If he's using evil, socialist Medicare, he'd be better off dead. The smear campaign against health care reform is even more direct -- you'll be told when to die. The sooner the better.

This is the legacy our hard-working seniors are reaping from right wing brainwashing. They're being told, in essence, that since they can't go out and earn money anymore, they're a burden. Pulling the rest of us down. Granny's on Medicare and Medicaid. Yank that plug!

Rush, you're rich. You have no right to frighten old people who aren't, even if they've gobbled up your road show for a decade.

Maybe I will file this under "morons." Not for the old Christian dude on oxygen, or my anxious uncle, but for the mountebank they've placed their trust in. Yeah, that guy. The one who doesn't give a rat's ass about them. The one who'd rather see them die, and decrease the surplus population.

So Many Idiots, So Few Villages

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," in this, the best of all possible nations!

Ahem. Yeah. Well, we could all be living in some hellhole like Switzerland.

We at "The Gods Are Bored" will now go on one of our famous moron tirades, so please be sure your seatbelt is fastened and your chair is in the upright position.

Devastating News for the Nation's Villages: This Idiot Is Too Rich To Live in an Apartment above the Post Office/General Store

Rush Limbaugh just inked a contract that will pay him $38 million a year until 2016, and a $100 million signing bonus. His response:

"I'm having more fun than a human being should be allowed to have."

Yeah, I'll bet. That kind of money will buy not only unlimited quantities of pharmaceutical-grade opiate painkillers, but also vials of baby pee to use in those pesky random urine tests. So you're set for life, big man. Hate pays.

And speaking of hate ...

Nation's Villages Bid on Ebay for Right to Own Rick Santorum

Backstory: A few years ago, the Boy Scouts of America decided it would not admit any young man who was openly gay or atheist. In response, the city of Philadelphia told its Boy Scouts chapter that they would have to start paying rent on their posh digs on Logan Circle. The Scouts went to court ... and lost.

Today, in his every other weekly column for the Philadelphia Inquirer, Rick Santorum (who lost his U.S. Senate seat in a thorough trouncing by a ho-hum opponent) let fly at the city of Philadelphia for expecting the Boy Scouts to abide by anti-discrimination laws if they want government support for their clubhouse.

Needless to say, ex-senator Santorum comes down squarely on the side of the Boy Scouts. Let's listen in on a bit of his argument ... it'll help drive up that Ebay bidding:

Thanks to the ACLU, liberal feminists and teachers unions, our government-run bureaucracy ... has waged war against boys. Liberals have largely run our great cities for the last half-century, but not many of them dare cross powerful special interests like the ACLU and the teachers unions, radical feminists or Hollywood and First Amendment absolutists (read pornographers).

Fair use copyright issues preclude me from quoting more, but I couldn't do it anyway without gagging up my breakfast. I will say that at the end of his editorial, Santorum threatens Philadelphia's mayor with a loss of federal funding for the city. Stop being an ACLU-loving pornographer, Mr. Mayor, "before some equally political legislator treats Philadelphia as badly as you have treated the Boy Scouts."

Rick Santorum has six children and is raising them as strict Roman Catholics. So much for progress in the gene pool. But at least the citizens of Pennsylania had the good sense to kick his pious butt out of the Senate chamber during the previous election cycle.

And now for that Ebay bidding on Santorum, Village Idiot Par Excellence. Early returns show several hamlets in Kansas in furious competition. But don't discount the longshots, Dover, PA and Dayton, TN. The former has a nice school the kids could attend, rather than being home-schooled. The latter has a lovely college where Mr. Santorum could teach. Emm, if only he wasn't a Roman Catholic.

With morons like these two on the loose, who feels like watching fireworks and eating hot dogs? Fourth of July? Bah, humbug.