Right America: Feeling Wronged

"Yes Waitress, I'd like another pitcher of the Wingnut Tears Ale."

“While not representative of the entire Republican Party…"

                                     - Filmmaker’s opening disclaimer

“We all hate the same things”

                                     - Anonymous woman at a McCain/Palin rally

“We’ve had these values and beliefs instilled in us when we were little and that’s what we’re always going to believe.”

                                     - Anonymous man at a McCain/Palin rally

I watched the recent HBO documentary from Alexandra Pelosi (yes, she’s Nancy’s daughter and I want to do them both- I got a MILF thing) entitled Right America: Feeling Wronged and sensed the sudden warmth of schadenfreude overtaking me.
And that is not like your dearest writer, My Friends.
I am never one to gloat. Or loom over a vanquished foe. I am not a petty man. The emotional and political suffering of my ideological adversaries never provides me with a sense of righteousness or accomplishment or…
What?!
Are you fucking kidding me?!
I abhor Republicans and conservatives with the same loathing I reserve for pancreatic cancer and gout. My hatred for them burns with the intensity of a thousand suns.
Their suffering is like Peruvian cocaine to me. Their disappointment, my raison d‘etre. Their disembowelment, my sweetbreads. Their sadness, a divine manna. I find their pain so sexually intoxicating that I want to drag it into an alley and rape it.

What I loved most was their tears.They poured like rain. Tasty, briny rain.

At the McCain concession speech which opens the film, a lily-livered brother of a soldier in Iraq blubbered over his family‘s suffering. Under the delusion that his warmongering candidate would have somehow relieved that pain of absence instead of prolonging it.
The tears dripped from the eyes of a sobbing young female who could not understand how her country voted for the “wrong guy”. The “right guy” to her was apparently the one who was old enough to be her great-great-grandfather. The spirit of youth and new ideas, eh?
Come on over to my place, Honey. I’ll introduce you to Simone, some black tar heroin, a bottle of Grey Goose and the collected audio recordings of Noam Chomsky‘s lectures. We’ll stop those tears from a fallin’.
Another woman at a Republican rally got choked up with hatred over the proven lies that Obama refused to salute the colors, say the “Pledge of Allegiance” or wear a flag lapel pin.
The water poured even harder from the political workers’ eyes who served McCain so diligently in the most ill-conceived, WORST run Presidential campaign in modern history.
I think this was all in the first ten minutes of the film.
I could be wrong about that. I was celebrating rather intensely.
I hate these fucking people. And that doesn’t make me a bad liberal. It makes me a great anti-conservative.
My favorite though was the NASCAR guy, who drunkenly laments his fall from the white male power throne. He does not blame his own limited intellectual capacity or the fact that he’s piss drunk on shit beer in the middle of the day for his downfall.
It’s the damn political correctness that‘s screwing him and this country up.
Political correctness. The bogeyman of the bigot.
“Nowadays everyone gets offended too easily”, he offers, “That’s the problem with America. When did this country get so chicken-shit?”
He weeps at this point during the interview.
Like a little fucking girl.
Apparently the country isn’t the only chicken-shit around.
This is the guy who thinks that his “loss of freedom” is in the newfound inappropriateness of calling women “sweet cheeks” and telling nigger jokes at work.
Then he adds that “Illegal immigrants get all the rights.”
Yes. Yes they do. That’s been proven. That’s exactly what happens. They leisurely stroll across the border and immediately get all the breaks this guy was never afforded. Even though he’s drinking beer at a tailgate, has tickets to a NASCAR race, wears an “Aging Disgracefully” t-shirt and is allowed to pontificate like a braying ass amidst his buddies at the Winnebago.
This guy needs to lay off Lou Dobbs’ crack pipe.
It’s all flowers and champagne for them border-crossing Mexicans. And all horror for him.

The tears. The tears.

They sustain me. I drink deep from them. They are nourishing and oh so salty.

Those poor, put-upon white men. I remember the movement’s roots in the early ‘90s, which I shamelessly bought into for a time. We misunderstood brutes were lamenting our loss of prominence in society with absolutely no facts whatsoever to back up the claim. We would go to retreats, bang drums, hug, paint our faces and get in touch with our lost, savage masculinity. We also brought a radio so we could listen to Rush Limbaugh. He was for lost white male rights too.
We turned out to be whiny assholes. We ended up laughing at ourselves and, for the most part, admitted we were wrong. But Rush ran with it. Began dabbling in winking, covert racism. Made a cottage industry out of the perceived victimization of the power elite. Went on misogynic tirades, blaming the dreaded “feminazis” for the country's ills.
I later heard he went deaf, got divorced for the third time and ran into drug addiction and prescription fraud.
I wonder what ever happened to him? He must be in jail now, right? "What this says to me is that too many whites are getting away with drug use, too many whites are getting away with drug sales, too many whites are getting away with trafficking in this stuff. The answer to this disparity is not to start letting people out of jail because we're not putting others in jail who are breaking the law. The answer is to go out and find the ones who are getting away with it, convict them and send them up the river, too." -- Rush Limbaugh. October 5, 1995

If having to grow up, facing your idiocy, becoming a better person and altering the more hurtful aspects of the public language is the worst of it, the white American male got off pretty fucking easy considering the damage he caused others for the past 230 plus years.

There were those in the documentary who were not tearful, however. They were downright angry.
They didn’t want to pay their taxes.
“Let me decide what to do with my money”, they crowed.
Like what, buy your fourth singing bass plaque to go in your poorly decorated rec room or finally get that ATV for your son with the enormous head so he can overturn it and snap his spine?
You do get to decide what to do with approximately 70-75% of your income. Unless you make over $350,000 a year… and in that case, fuck you. Quit complaining about anything.
The fallacy that all your tax money goes to ever-pregnant welfare queens, health care for illegal immigrants, “country club” prison accommodations and homosexual artists who smear shit on crucifixes is quite laughable.
The majority of your taxes went into the design and production of weaponry that just blew the arm off of a child with brown skin in a foreign land.
Or it went into the coffers of Halliburton or another government funded defense contractor who feed, clothe, arm and armor (quite inadequately, apparently) our imperialist warriors troops stationed worldwide.
Or perhaps your taxes went into a “Faith based initiative” program where churches (untaxed entities in the first place) get money to help the indigent. The only catch? They can preach their horseshit with government funds and discriminate on the basis of religion as to whom they hire to perform these functions.
And this is how we separate church and state.
Obama is shamefully guilty for extending this nonsense.
But taxes for those kind of things are somehow worthwhile to these tightwads. Under the guise of keeping us safe from those big bad terrorists and atheists out there.
Point is- you don’t get to decide directly where your tax dollars go. Believe me. I’ve tried to give it all to homosexual artists who smear feces on crucifixes. The IRS wasn’t having it.

Shut up and pay your taxes! This country would be a third rate banana republic without them. It’s damn close to getting there as it is. Mainly because of tax cuts for the wealthy. But enough of my laser-sharp commentary.

Let’s return to the documentary, shall we?

Look out! It’s the Jesus freaks and kingdom comers.

Those of you who know me well or have become familiar with my particular hatreds and bugbears through my writings understand that I despise the religious wholly. I cannot think of another collective mindset to have ever existed that has retarded the physical and intellectual progress of the human race more than those who believe that a divine entity oversees us and controls our fate. And that HE somehow shows preferences of nationalism toward the United States and specifically, the Republican party.
So it was with great privilege that I watched the Christ cultists bray about “saving” the nation from us baby killers and evolutionists and that god’s perfect will would be done on election day.
To all of them again I say, “Suck on it. Suck on my big, blue-veined cock you dimwitted, fear-mongering, pinch-faced freaks. Drink my Satan seed and whilst doing it, may the next hundred babies born to Christian homes be homosexual.”
My god, I’m a gracious winner.
Like I said, I hate the pious. They are the worst of all possible things. Reason and knowledge begin with their demise.
We seem to have strayed very far from the review of Right America: Feeling Wronged and that is no one’s fault but mine.
Give me a few beers, a liberal documentary and an ear and I confess, I will prattle on.
The documentary actually sucks by the way. It’s too short. It’s too limited in scope and I imagine, it was self-censored too much. There’s bigger monsters out there than this pathetic rabble of interviewees.
But to her credit, Pelosi admits that she is scared by what she saw. A nation divided. A complete disconnect between the Midwestern/southern United States and the coasts. “Two Americas” I believe is how she phrased it.
I’ve seen it up close as well. And it is a bit frightening. To have been raised in the same nation with the same founding documents to guide us and realize that others can interpret them in an entirely different way.
Fortunately, half the idiots who get it wrong already lost their war of ethics 146 years ago at Gettysburg and no person with an ounce of intellect gives a flying fuck what conservative Midwesterners think. Their numbers are thankfully shrinking.
For me, it’s just so nice to see Republicans fearful, confused, weeping, gnashing their teeth, wringing their hands, walking in stupors, bewildered, directionless and hopeless.
Welcome to my nightmare for the past thirty years.
Pelosi’s film is essentially a liberal laugh/fear fest. Raw meat for progressives (although they're probably vegetarian and won't enjoy it). But Republicans can gain something from this too. By looking deep into the eyes of the ignorant monsters that hijacked your party and ended up spitting in the face of Buckley, Goldwater and Will. You have been snug bedfellows with these nutcases for too long, forgiving their lunacy because the elections were going your way. Canonizing St. Ronald, who initiated the policies that brought these zealots back into the national discourse and put the nation onto its present course of social Darwinism. And allowing a toad like Karl Rove to dictate your emotions and votes when his candidate was a rank idiot (and a Jesus freak).
Moderate Republicans (and Libertarians) have a lot of explaining to do.

I want those tasty, salty tears to keep coming. I need sustenance.

Conservatives are not for America's future.
They simply hate what America's future must become.