Jim Trainer

the Minutes 7511

In Uncategorized on July 4, 2011 at 10:36 pm

Before we ask our seniors to pay any more for health care, before we cut our children’s education, before we sacrifice our commitment to the research and innovation that will help create more jobs in the economy, I think it’s only fair to ask an oil company or a corporate jet owner that has done so well to give up that tax cut that no other business enjoys,” Mr. President Barack Obama, Wednesday 6/29/11

I went to court last week.  And I lost.  There were no fireworks in Austin last night, I laid on my floor with 2 Lone Star big boys and smoking Stockholm Blend as the angry sun set.  This was after driving around town in the record-breaking heat, visiting friends and blasting  A.A. Bondy.  Amateur sport.  It’s what you do when you’re lower middle class.  A fine dream-this.  More like a nightmare when you realize it ain’t your dream.  Celebrating the rich, white, landowning males signing of the Declaration of Independence ain’t my dream either, Jack.  That Parliament of Whores had a whole working class of people shipped in to their American empire.  Here we are, 235 years later.  Welcome to the Nightmare. 

“How the fuck is obama gonna interrupt the price is right? That ain’t right. I want my Showcase Showdown!!!!!” my friend Sicko exclaimed on Facebook on Tuesday. 
The President laid on all the everyman charm that we came to love and vote for back in the Salad Days of 08.  Those days are gone but even without an Identifiable Enemy and a national surplus to bankrupt the everyman President(or Mr.Obama as the press affectionately refers to him) is just a talking head out front the Grand Imperialist Strategy.   The very same day that Sicko’s Price Is Right was interupted the Senate Foreign Relations Committee authorized our involvement in Libya for a year more.  Welcome to the New Century.
Now back to the Showcase Showdown…

“It’s time you sold your mothers, and get outta here!”  protestors in Greece raged outside Parliament in Athens on Wedensday.  Can you imagine living in a country where the government votes for measures that cut your working wage and your pension, too?  Probably not, we live in America, where they fuck you from the back.  Pay attention to Greece ladies and gentleman, now that you’re done wearing that stupid Uncle Sam hat and waving your bloody flag.

Thanks to raging wildfires throughout central Texas there were no fireworks last night.  Stores were open, beer was sold and people were proud.  Of what I have no inkling.  I enjoyed a perfectly shot-down, shut-in and generally depressed holiday off.    I haven’t enjoyed the 4th so little since the time I was locked in this hippie chicks apartment, my first summer in West Philly.  She was passed out, snoring, and outside you could hear the fireworks.  Her door was locked from the inside and you needed a key to get out.  Getting shacked up with her was the first of many, many bad choices I have made since I set out, as a workingman, on my own, back when dusk was falling on the Empire.  I had to cover her mouth and plug  up the nostrils until she finally woke up. 
“THE KEY!  LET ME OUT!”  I screamed at her.  It was a nightmare.   And those were the good old days.

 Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
out by the gas fires of the refinery.
I’m ten years burning down the road,
nowhere to run ain’t got nowhere to go.
Born in the U.S.A., the Boss

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