Vive le...Oh, Cram it.

Socialist Segolene Royal was defeated by Conservative Nicolas Sarkozy in France's presidential election yesterday. In a 53-47 percent victory, Sarkozy claims to now have a "mandate for change." This sounds eerily familiar. Since when did 53% become a mandate? I thought when Bush said it, with an almost identical margin of victory three years ago here in the US, it represented fuzzy thinking and political maneuvering among Bush supporters. And that is almost certainly what Sarkozy is guilty of, as well.

As a candidate of the anti-union party, Union pour un Mouvement Populaire (UMP), Sarkozy has every right to be arrogant about his victory at least in one respect; he took almost 47% of the blue collar vote. In that sense, he looks like a French Ronald Reagan who has duped the working class people of France in the fashion Ronny did. Perhaps it had something to do with an unwillingness to vote for a woman as president. Immigration fears figure in there, too, as Sarkozy aims to make France, "less attractive" to immigrants.

Whatever the reason, the people of France can no longer point their finger and laugh at us for electing Bush. Well, maybe they can, since we did it twice. But they Frenchies pulled a boner here. I hope Sarkozy continues to mirror Bush and the Republican Party and eventually drops to a 27% approval rating. Given his anti-union, "free market" goals, I'm not interested in giving him a chance. But the French apparently are, and have. Not a "mandate" as he says, but he's the president now. Onward!

As for Segolene Royal, I hope she stays active in politics. I'd vote for her. One problem, though...if France isn't ready for a female president then we sure ain't. Maybe people should consider that when they vote in the Democratic Primary. The US isn't as open-minded as France, and Hillary Clinton is no Segolene Royal. Then again, that may save her as she tries to become the first female president of this country. Hillary doesn't have the scruples, integrity or brains of Royal, but she does want the presidency so bad that she'll say or do anything to get it. That may do the trick. It's worked so well for so many before her.

My Day So Far, or "I Didn't Spell Check This"

It's 11:23am on Saturday, May 5 (Cinco de Mayo!) 2007. I slept pretty late this morning, until around 9am, and then made a ferocious cup of coffee. As I poured "Half and Half" into it, it just got blacker. Scary. Then I got dressed and made my way back to the computer, where I got into a donnybrook about something ludicrous (Roswell is real, moon landings are fake...something like that) and then checked my email.

I get a lot of email, from myriad sources. Friends send me a lot, of course, because they know I may be a dim bulb, but I have varied interests. Sort of like a retarded Renaissance Man. Then there are the organizations to which I belong, like Hands Off Venezuela! and Suffragette Ass Fanatic Digest. Sometimes I have to get emails translated, and fortunately that is easy to do with the "internets." Then I write a response and translate it into Spanish or Portuguese, thus making some people think I speak two languages. I'm OK with that. Little do they know I barely speak one.

One political email, received from a comrade, is about Mumia Abu-Jamal's take on the Don Imus controversy. I couldn't read it because I'm such an infant that the concept of the article made me giggle. If I ever grow up/smarten up, I'll read it. I'm sure it's interesting.

In one of my discussion groups, people are talking about Alec Baldwin and David Hasselhoff and how they mistreat their daughters. The Hasselhoff thing is much creepier in my book, and Baldwin just blew a gasket, which he apologized for and I accept. I'm sure that makes him feel better. As everyone knows, he called his daughter a "little pig" for avoiding his planned phone call. Shakespeare wrote a great play about a little pig, but I can't remember the name right now.

But what parent hasn't said something awful to a child, particularly between the ages of 1 and 35 (the difficult years), that they later regret? I've heard worse than "little pig" in the grocery store. Several months ago, I heard a woman tell her daughter that she was getting "too fat from all the fucking juice (she) drinks." The kid was about 10, give or take two years. I'm not good at guessing things like that. And it could have been the grandmother, but that's not likely. Grandmothers are usually sweet to their grand kids because they can just dump them back on the parents when the whole production gets too annoying.

I can't remember if my parents ever said anything mean to me, and at times I really, really deserved it. Sometimes I would complain endlessly when I had to work with my father, cleaning mansions for rich people. He would just ignore me, although once he said, "If you keep complaining I'm going to take you home and tuck you into your beddy like a little baby." Fair enough. That's a moon-cast shadow compared with "little pig" or "you're getting to fat." My brother, who was a better kid than I, probably never heard anything discouraging at all. Yes, I had excellent parents.

And now I'm a parent myself. Well, not of a human being (yippee for infertility!), but of many cats. If you add up all the pet cats I've had in my life, it comes to about 4,000. And right now, I have four, of course. Sadly, they do aggravate me sometimes and I'm compelled to yell things that I later regret. Panther tried to get out the front door yesterday and I called him a "fucking mother-fucking cunt." There's no call for that. But if he got out at that moment he would have been gone for good. A big German Shepherd was out there at the time, and Panther would have either been eaten or gotten away into da big city, lost for good. He seems to be over it, but an apology is in order.

And then I called Fluffy a "douchebag" but she knows why and I'm NOT taking it back. I love her to death, as I do all my furry little cohorts, but I'm only human. I'll leave it at that.

I miss you, Linda. I hope you're having fun with your girls up in Maine.

Oh, yes...Hamlet. That Shakespeare play I mentioned...it's Hamlet.

Enjoy the Frog Cartoon

I just want to share this cartoon with all of you. I happen to think it's one of the funniest cartoons, or anything, of all time. The scene where the frog is dancing around the guy's shitty apartment is gold.

Frog dancing and singing.

Save Us, Johnny!

I just made a jaw-dropping discovery, which is rare. It's not often that upon finding something out I'm so surprised that my mouth opens, or my monocle flies off. It happens all the time in cartoons, though. Anyway, I just heard that Mitt Romney named L. Ron Hubbard's "Battlefield Earth" as his favorite book. I read that novel, which is sort of awful, when I was 14. It actually came with a soundtrack, written also by L. Ron Hubbard. If memory serves, there was a lot of grunting and a synthesizer.

So Mitt Romney not only read Battlefield Earth, but it's his favorite book. This is going to give more fodder to his enemies than the "varmint" comments a few weeks ago. It's a long book; at least 900 pages, maybe a lot more, so there is plenty to work with. Especially in that book. I was into Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Piers Anthony, Arthur C. Clark, Douglas Adams and just about any Hugo Award winning author back then. This is before the age of John Updike, Kurt Vonnegut and Dostoevsky. Besides being essentially a pulp science fiction novel (check out that cover), Battlefield Earth is rife with Scientology metaphor. The humans only find the ability to overthrow the vicious aliens through the use of a consciousness expanding machine that is, ironically, used by the aliens to make humans more intelligent and useful for slavery. Yup. Without the use of such a machine, we have only Tom Cruise and John Travolta to deliver us from the Thetans which are preventing us from realizing our full potential.

Does anyone out there have the soundtrack, on tape, that came with the book? I remember that "music" more than the book itself.

In other news, I have yet to receive any news about the newspaper writing job. I'm almost certain that I'll be told to, "go piss up a rope" (my late grandmother's favorite insult). It's not bothering me, though, as I'm familiar with my numerous limitations.

May Day

Happy May Day, comrades and fellow travelers! Consider going to a rally, and sing The Internationale with me...

Arise ye workers from your slumbers
Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of can't.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We'll change henceforth the old tradition
And spurn the dust to win the prize.

So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.

No more deluded by reaction
On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.

No saviour from on high delivers
No faith have we in prince or peer
Our own right hand the chains must shiver
Chains of hatred, greed and fear
E'er the thieves will out with their booty
And give to all a happier lot.
Each at the forge must do their duty
And we'll strike while the iron is hot.

Or perhaps Solidarity Forever is more your speed:

When the union's inspiration through the workers' blood shall run,
There can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun;
Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one,
But the union makes us strong.

CHORUS:
Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
For the union makes us strong.

Is there aught we hold in common with the greedy parasite,
Who would lash us into serfdom and would crush us with his might?
Is there anything left to us but to organize and fight?
For the union makes us strong.

It is we who plowed the prairies; built the cities where they trade;
Dug the mines and built the workshops, endless miles of railroad laid;
Now we stand outcast and starving midst the wonders we have made;
But the union makes us strong.

All the world that's owned by idle drones is ours and ours alone.
We have laid the wide foundations; built it skyward stone by stone.
It is ours, not to slave in, but to master and to own.
While the union makes us strong.

They have taken untold millions that they never toiled to earn,
But without our brain and muscle not a single wheel can turn.
We can break their haughty power, gain our freedom when we learn
That the union makes us strong.

In our hands is placed a power greater than their hoarded gold,
Greater than the might of armies, magnified a thousand-fold.
We can bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old
For the union makes us strong.