Today’s News Sucks; Let’s Go Fishing


So. Today is Friday and I first want to shout out to Mel, the recipe maven found over there ===}}}} on the Bloggie Roller. Hang tough, sweetie, our thoughts are with you. Second, I want to thank BJ, also a B-Roller listee as Dumb Perignon, for a care package he sent. I’ve been missing Tennessee since I left in November after my visit, and he sent me some trinkets to ease the miss.

Is that how you say that? I’m assuming that missing is to actively miss, so wouldn’t a salve ease the miss? Or would it reduce the misses?

Today’s paper is, as Gram would say, “a real pippper”—Gram’s version of the word pip, and meaning someone or something difficult and not a dimple. Here are some of the items that caught my mother’s eye as she read us the front page.

“Senate blocks effort to end oil tax breaks,” reads item one. All the republicans and enough Democratic Senators from oil states voted to keep tax breaks for oil companies in place, thus proving my mother’s position that Democrats can be self-serving assholes too. Mother actually has a decent heart, she just misplaces it, and often. After reading this story to us at breakfast a couple hours ago, she said to me, she said, “Now, if we can just get a few of those smarter Democrats to keep up that sort good work, we can fix what’s wrong with America.”

“Fuck that. If all the asshole christians would move to Australia we’d fix things faster,” I told her. “We could plant a story that jesus is coming to Melbourne or down to the Outback this December. Then we’d cancel everybody’s passports while they’re over there and not let them back in.” I waited a beat and added, “You’ll like Australia.”

Mother looked at me like I’m the crazy one and said, “You’d miss me, Mooner.”

Next, she read the story with the headline “House approves republican budget”[.] I told her, “Of course they did. Those silly fuckwads want to kill as many social programs as fast as they can.”

“Those fine men are doing god’s work, son. They should be applauded.” With this, my mother grinned at me over the top of the folded newspaper. It was a shitty grin.

“Did I tell you that I’m going to start going to church again, Mother?” I delivered this with a shitty grin of my own. “I’m printing up tee shirts with each front saying, ‘I’m Mother Johnson’s Son, Mooner’ along with that photo of us at Sister and Anna’s wedding—you know, the one with us standing beside the two brides. Then each of the backs will say something different. Like, ‘A woman’s right to choose is sacred,’ or, “If your god is an asshole then fuck your god,” or my personal favorite, “If god didn’t want homosexuals then why did he make Dr. Marcus Bachmann?”

Mother’s face turned beet red, but she ignored me and read the next story. “Says here that conservatives distrust science more now than ever. The big trend appears to be with the better educated conservatives.”

Well fucking duh. College educated conservatives will always see a way to control uneducated conservatives, and use it like a hammer. That’s how they roll.

“And would you look at this! Mr. President Bush Senior has endorsed Mr. Mitt Romney. That’s quite a surprise,” Mother commented. Whenever Mother disapproves of a powerful or influential person, she calls them Mister with first and last names. Like Mr. Mooner Johnson. OK, except that for it’s Mooner Einstein Johnson on my account, and with no Mister.

Now me, I already knew why Mother was surprised at this, because I already knew my mother is a right-wing conservative christian fuckball. But I must admit that I enjoy, sometimes, hearing her confirm it. “Now why is that such a surprise, Mother. Herr Rommel is a fine christian man, isn’t he?”

Now I get a serious face peering over the top edge of the paper. “Mooner, you know that Mormons aren’t real christians. I’ll just never understand how they can believe in all of those silly miracles of theirs.”

Riiiight, I’m thinking to myself. “Riiiight,” now out loud. “It isn’t like the burning bush or fishes-and-loaves or rising from the dead, is it? Hell, that’s not even like parting the Red Sea, for shitsakes. Those Mormon miracles are just so silly.”

Have I told you guys my take on Mormons? Here’s my Mormon slogan: “Mormon- one little ‘r’ from the truth.”

“Mooner, are you still committing heresy on your Internet thing?” Now I’m getting “serious concern” look from Mother.

“Why of course I am, mommy dearest, it’s how I roll.” Sometimes I’m a funny guy. “Anything in particular concerning you?”

“She “Hmffed” and said, “I want you to start capitalizing god and jesus and all their pronouns like you’re required to do. What you are doing is blasphemous and I won’t allow it ANY… MORE!”

Sensing a chance to use compromise to the benefit of world peace, I said, “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll start capitalizing stuff again just as soon as you agree to be 100% supportive for gay rights.”

If you were to look at Mother’s face at this point you’d think she’d eaten a bucket of green quince. My guess was that her mouth and asshole were both pinched so tight you couldn’t drive a needle into them with a sledge hammer. “I’ll never endorse the devil’s deeds, Mooner Einstein Johnson. NEVER!”

“OK, and fine. And I’ll not endorse asshole gods.” Here I paused for effect, and affect as well. “Have you decided what you’ll be wearing to church Sunday?” Two, three four… “I want to wear a tee shirt that matches your dress. This Sunday’s shirt says, ‘Jesus Loves Homosexuals And Mormons Too!’ I can make it in any color you wear.”

I know I shouldn’t be so hard on my own mother, but I can’t seem to help myself. Just because she’s family doesn’t excuse her prejudice. So, fuck it, I’m taking the animals fishing now.

Manana, y’all.

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5 Responses to “Today’s News Sucks; Let’s Go Fishing”

  1. mel says:

    Thank you…I read this and am commenting at the exact time all went to help last year. I am still in a fog from yesterday, but I have to.say, reading your words was waaaaaaaaay better. Hanging tough…on my way up north…auto posts this weekend…update Monday. And really…thank you. All of the kind words today mean more than I can say!

  2. squatlo says:

    Those who know me remember hearing about the wars I had with my own mom about attending Mass as a child. I fought the practice every Sunday morning from birth until my fifteenth birthday when I finally outweighed her and convinced her that forcing me to sit in church would be detrimental to her reputation. I promised her I would “Ask questions” and “express myself” like a thinking individual has a right to do in America. The utter horror on her face told me I’d just won the War of the Sabbath at our house.
    Which pissed off my dad, who never set foot in a church during his adult life, but insisted we kids go with mom to Mass every Sunday. I thought (foolishly) this had something to do with religious upbringing and learning a bit about faith and The Bible, when in fact it was merely because Sunday morning was the only time of the week he had the house to himself. Now that I’m an adult, I realize how sweet it can be to have an empty house, void of “conversation” or television noise. Dad knew what he was doing.
    But so did I. I look back on my altar boy service as forced labor, and demand restitution. Even at pre-seventies minimum wage the Vatican owes me at least $200. I won’t charge them for the attempted brainwashing or indoctrination. It’s what they do, so I’ll let it slide.
    Well Played, Moon Child! Send me a shirt when you get ‘er printed up!

  3. squatlo says:

    by the way, I got a package from BJ too. The guy’s underated in the Prince Among Men department, in my opinion. ‘Course, he’ll call you early in the morning and pretend to be an Arab immigrant if he thinks you’ll get up in your underwear and take notes.

  4. chrisinphx says:

    bwahahahaha! that is good stuff. I was behind a Subaru (go figure) this morning on the ride into work, and it had a bumper sticker that said “Bigotry and Hatred Wrapped in Religion Is Still Bigotry and Hatred”

  5. admin says:

    Mel. Keep trucking onward through the fog, baby! I’m starting to think 2012 will be a banner year.

    Squat. The only self expression allowed in the catholic church is how the pope dresses himself. “Shall I wear the frilly white dress with ermine collar and sleeves, or shall I go all Hollywood and do the diamond lapels? Does this Mexican gold cross make me look fat? Have I told the story about how we got the gold to make this cross? Well, dearie, it was the year of our lord 1521 and the pope of the holy roman empire told Cortez to extract more gold from Montezuma. The pope had just had his tailors make a new dress and it was lacking pizazz. So…”

    As for BJ, he’s one of the good ones. No doubts.

    Chris. Glad you can find humor in the hell that is my life. I like that bumper sticker. My daddy used to say, “Bacon-wrapped shit is still shit.”

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