By Earl “Clem” Bob
Tea party contributor
Hi! Hope y’all like my new picture! Clem ain’t one of the beautiful people, but what I am is a hard-workin’, salt-of-the-Earth taxpayer. And like all proud Americans, I hate the fact that I’m workin’ hard to pay taxes.
You’ll notice that I’m wearin’ eyeglasses now. I’ve actually needed them for a while, but I lost my benefits back in 2006 when my employer had to cut costs in anticipation of the midterm Democrat apocalypse. Good thing he did it, too, ’cause who knows if I’d still have a job today! We all have to make sacrifices, and keep making them until they tell you to stop. At this rate, I imagine I’ve racked up lots of good fortune for somebody. And the fact that I did my part to curb the damage of the Pelosi criminal SIN-DICK-ate (copyright Clem) is far better medicine than affordable health care.
So you’re probably wonderin’ how I got my snazzy new frames. Well, this group called Bright Vision visited my neighborhood, set up a medical tent and accepted all comers, no questions asked. Everyone in the trailer park was there! It was like a big block party, but with dentists and optometrists and whatnot. They fitted me with a pair of donated glasses, and I’ll tell ya, I’ve never seen sharper in my life. Hell, I didn’t even know Jim Cramer had facial hair! Not to mention, my headaches are finally going away. It’s downright amazing how much better I feel. After a long enough time in discomfort, you forget how wonderful comfort is.
Don’t get me wrong, though — nothin’ bends my pitchfork like people trying to get somethin’ for nothin’. It makes me sick to see these bleedin’-heart liberals always trying to help those who don’t deserve it. Hey Democrats, stop coddling lazy people!
But it’s great to see people get help when they really deserve it, like me and my neighbors. We’re just a bunch of folks doing what we can and goin’ through hard times. I’ve always said that if someone would only listen to our stories, they’d understand how hard it is out there. I’m grateful that Bright Vision listened, and didn’t waste their time on the riff-raff. Let the free market take care of those freeloaders.
Speakin’ of midterms and freeloaders:
WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!! We sure Got-R-Did, didn’t we? I haven’t seen that many Democrats fall at one time since the Annual Run With Your Shoes Tied Together Race for Democrats.
OK, so I don’t do so good with jokes. Ol’ Clem’s better with the truth.
Like anyone with half a brain, I could see the bloodbath coming. And so I hosted a party for all my friends. I went all out, too — I bought some bunting and balloons, and cleaned up my backyard. That meant selling my beloved 1979 F-100 for scrap, but that just gave me money to buy beer. And anyway, I’ve still got the ’82 F-100 on blocks in the shed.
I set up my barbecue grill and cooked up some franks and hamburgers. The wife baked an angel food cake and wanted to decorate it with a flag, but she only had red frosting, so we made it into a bloodbath cake. That’s more appropriate for the evening anyway, we figured.
We also had a variation of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but it involved Democrats and pinning the doorknob on the ass on their way out. Maybe you had to be there.
And of course, I made damn sure I had my TV out in the backyard with Fox News on to track the returns. It goes without sayin’ that Fox is my favorite network, because it’s a refreshing conservative alternative to the the liberally biased mainstream media. Also, it’s fair and balanced.
My TV ain’t one of those flatscreens, but that just goes to show you that I’m no looter.
The party was an absolute riot, but one crazy thing happened. Turns out my neighbor Sharon’s friend is dating that guy I’m always talkin’ about who drives that Toyota Penis hybrid. And all three came by. You could feel the energy deflate the moment he walked in. See, he’s known around town for bein’ really weird. First off, he’s a public-school teacher, so we already don’t trust him. Second, he doesn’t even eat meat or dairy products. What’s that called? Vigo? Vegan? Vagina? I don’t know. Third, he has a way of looking at things that irritates all of us. And I don’t mean because he’s a proud liberal, though that’s part of it.
It’s hard to explain, but here’s how it went down:
For most of the night, we gave the Penis driver all sorts of heck, like flipping the plate of cake he was holding, asking how it feels to live off taxpayer money and snarling, “How that’s hopey-changey thing workin’ out, commie?” Just good-natured ribbing. You’d think all that, combined with news of the throttling on Fox, would have had him flippin’ his lid. I think all of us were secretly hopin’ for it. After all, what’s a good party without a clown?
But instead, he remained quiet and polite, and walked outside. After a while, I went lookin’ for him. I didn’t really care about him, but a few people said they were concerned that he might have gone home, thus deprivin’ us of entertainment. I found him on the porch, not moving or saying a word. He was lookin’ up at the night sky, which gets pretty starry out in these parts. Sometimes I go outside on nights like these and gaze at the stars, which gets me to wonderin’ if aliens know Jesus. Anyway, Penis guy was just settin’ there, and I could see a single tear glistening on his face, like that Indian from that old commercial who was in Ernest Goes to Camp.
“You all right, Penis guy?” I asked him. “I hope we haven’t made you too upset. We’s just playin’.”
“No, it’s OK,” he replied. “I walked right into this situation. My name’s Wes, by the way.”
“Nice too meet you, Wuss,” I said.
“Wes. No, I’m just sad. Sad that our elections have all the pomp and deep division of a World Cup match, and that people value winning above what’s best for the country. And that such an electoral tide surges on reactionary feelings and deliberate ignorance, fed by a media that would rather tell people what they want to hear than what they need to hear.”
“People are fed up with the excesses of both parties, especially the Democrats,” I told him. “That’s why they’re so mad. And if saving this country from utter ruin makes them feel good, then why shouldn’t they celebrate that?”
“Two reasons,” he blabbered. “One, the Republican candidates, tea party or not, campaigned largely on the idea that government and career politicians were the problem. Now that they’re in office, they’re going to have to work within the system, and with many of the politicians that they despise so much. And who knows what they’re going to accomplish, because their platforms were little more than, end, stop, obstruct.”
“Well, I see nothin’ wrong with that,” I said. “Obama and his insidious agenda deserve to be stopped. He’s gonna look like a bad president come 2012 because we’re gonna make sure he gets nothin’ done. And that’s when we’re gonna make our ultimate statement by electin’ someone to the White House who’ll care less about the parties and more about the Constitution. Someone like Sarah Palin or Mitt Romney.”
And that’s where Wuss gets my goat every time.
“But that’s exactly what won’t happen, will it? That’s my second point. The more obstructive the Republicans are, the more Americans will realize that they aren’t doing anything to make their plight better. And if short-memory voters and tea partiers carry any consistency at all in their views, they’ll want the GOP out in 2012 as surely as they wanted the Democrats out this time around. Otherwise, it will just expose the tea partiers as closet Republicans who simply despise the Democrats and the Obama administration in particular, who pretend their new movement is about issues that have been around for years. And their continued support of incompetent, far-right incumbents will make all their bluster seem hypocritical.”
“I’m fed up with both parties —”
“I know. Especially the Democrats, right?”
“I’ll bet you’re happy to see so many longtime Democrats thrown out this cycle.”
“Well, consider this: most of the Democrats who lost big races came from moderate-right districts, and were Blue-Dog Democrats. By and large, they were the ones who actually kept a lot of big-ticket progressive reforms from happening. So in those cases, having a Republican in those seats makes little difference, except that there’s now the off chance that the new officeholder might not be as rigid, ideologically speaking.
“In any event, the pressure is now on your guys to deliver everything they said they would, such as jobs, an alternative health care plan and streamlined government spending. And it’s only fair to expect it all within two years, because that’s exactly the window you gave your opposition. I sincerely hope they can deliver. If they can, I’ll even consider voting for them the next time around.”
Before I could think of a retort, he thanked me for everything and went home. I guess he felt awkward standing there for several minutes waiting for me to say something. But Ol’ Clem just couldn’t quite get the words out. That’s what happens whenever I have so much to say that I don’t know where to begin.
And that’s what irritates me about Wuss the Penis guy: even in defeat, he won’t blow his top. Instead, he just rationalizes. I can only wish I had an ability to live in such deep, deep denial.
I also wish I knew what the hell the World Cup was. Now that I can see, I should look it up. Maybe after Glenn Beck.