Yea the tide has crested, the dams they have burst

I tried.  I really really tried.

I tried to not care about politics, to not fume and snicker and foment internal dissent and watch with ghoulish fascination at the parade of freaks and mutants that are drawn to the offices of the land.  After you people, (if you are one of the you I am referring to shame on you...go paddle your bottom), broke my heart and crushed my hope in there being even the dimmest flicker of cognitive activity in the collective brain of America by re-electing George Waterhead Bush so he could continue us on his fool's march to destruction I slowly faded away.  It was too frustrating to care and frankly I did a pretty good job at toning down my interest in such silliness, (at least outwardly).  

I was kind of surprised that I didn't feel the urge to comment on the 2008 elections.  Sarah Palin was easy pickings for dusting off the rust and John McCain....well...he's John McCain.  If I could write about Dick Cheney having S&M policy trysts with Barbara Bush and canned peaches surely I could snarkle a bit about John McCain.  But no.....I guess I was busy trying to figure out my life or was just lazy or falling into walls around town...whatever....I didn't write.

And that carried over to the musica as well.  I let the Pharmacy Prophets just fade away which in retrospect was sad, we should have done some sort of wing-ding of a farewell show if for nothing else so I could have had my picture taken a bunch of times.  But we didn't.  I wrote one song in three years.......that made things kind of boring.   

And then, like Santa and Jesus and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny all dressed up as a gaggle of mildly disguised racist idiots in terrible clothes the 2012 Republican candidates trickled forth from the primordial ooze and goddamn it baby, they flicked my switch!  If I can't find something to say about a guy that is running for the most powerful office in the world calling himself "Black Walnut" I might as well just shrivel up and die.  Rick Perry?  Seriously?  Rick Perry is like playing T-Ball.  His big square head just sitting there, still as can be, waiting to have the shit smacked out of it.  Michelle Bachmann in and of herself is more than enough, but have you seen her husband?  Good lord.  I just don't know where to begin.  I feel like Violet Beauregarde after she ate the forbidden fruit, (you know what I mean), and got herself all blowed up.  I'm positively floating with material.

Needless to say Newt Gingrich and his Jonathan Swiftian plans to redo the nation's janitorial crew give me plenty to think about.  What a fucking maniac...not to mention a prick....not to mention a fool...not to mention...ahh, screw it.  It's too late to even get started on that one.              

So as has happily happened with the music stuff I'm going to really get back to writing around here.  As always if you like it or don't that's your business.  Say something if you feel like it, or don't.  If you get offended good for you.  We should all get a little offended from time to time, maybe if we found some of these mental patients offensive a little more often we wouldn't be in such a bizarre state of affairs.

I have other stuff in my life of course and will write about other things as they come to mind.   

God speed Black Walnut.....we hardly knew ye.