Dead Mama raccoon and the $700 billion.

I live in an isolated area across from a cattle pasture. (See: The Armadillo Wars.) Down the road an expiring Mama raccoon dragged herself to the grassy shoulder and passed away. The clean-up crew was on the job early the next morning: turkey buzzards, about a dozen of the big black birds, eyes glaring and wattles flaring, fought over the corpse.

Within a day, the unfortunate raccoon was down to a shiny-clean skeleton and a wisp of fur at the very end of the tail. The bones gleamed in the sunlight.

Reminds me of our esteemed leaders and the $700 billion bailout money which we don't have.

Six governors say the auto industry could use a few bil, just to keep things moving at the alter of jobs. The weight-lifter in California says his state's going bankrupt and he better get some bil quick from the $700 billion we don't have. Mr. McCain wants to pay off or buy up or do something with troubled mortgages and the investment banks and insurance companies and bank-banks think they need a few hundred bil that we don't have sent their way ASAP.

Best of my knowledge none of these folks can fly or have wattles, otherwise the similarity is remarkable.

The hounds of Fox

Those foxy devils at the Republican National Network are hard at work. They cannot run the tape of Rev. Wright giving the country the ole what-for anymore since it has worn out from their overuse. Tape-less they were in a near-panic until they heard about another tape currently in the possession of the Los Angeles Times. "Show us the tape!" they roar! (They have a god-given right to any and all pieces of information in any and all media at any and all times, just ask them.)

I understand they have brand new Halloween costumes too. They're going as journalists.

Sex, War, Eternal Damnation, Get Rich Easily and J. Roberts Nakid

Sometimes a newly minted blogger feels lonely. Do his clever cries fall upon uncaring ears? My daughter said I'd get read more if I put stuff in the headline which would be picked up by search engines. 'Nuff said.

The Armadillo Wars

Wickipedia states "armadillos have few natural predators."

Obviously they have never heard of me. And listen. I am, by nature, a most non-violent sort of person. I often carry spiders gently outside and let them go, rather than squashing them. I swat only the most persistent flies. I wouldn't dream of shooting Bambi and I let go of the few fish stupid enough to snag my hooks. But. I make an exception for those odd armored creatures who are engaged in a neo-fascist plot to destroy my paltry few square feet of St. Augustine grass! Digging for bugs, for god's sake!! (My wife says I really shouldn't shout at the computer.)

When the first few holes appeared in my small plot, I shrugged and stomped them more-or-less back in place. Armadillos have to eat, too, I reasoned. However these are creatures of pernicious habit. Once they find a bug or two they do a Douglas MacArthur on you. They return. And bring all their extended family! Armadillo picnics! Family reunions. Friends and armadillo neighbors. Soon there are squads and platoons of armadillos using earth movers and D-9 Caterpillar tractors to uproot my lawn. Tactical atomic weapons are deployed! My lawn looks like the Fifth Armored Division has been practicing tank maneuvers on its tattered surface. The cat fell in an armadillo hole and couldn't get out! (I am not shouting.)

Armadillo and axe-murderers are nocturnal. They carry out their destructive missions in the wee hours. They refuse to come out during waking periods and fight like a man.

Bear, the black family Lab, has been a big help. He roars and bounds down the outside stairs to attack the sluggish armadillos who prudently scurry off. But even Bear has to sleep. The armadillos apparently have heat-sensing devices installed in the Bear-pad on the deck so they know when he comes inside to bed. Then the pointed snouts appear and root ravenously in what remains of the grass. I think they are using CB radios to alert even more armadillos that the coast is clear. Perhaps billboards on high-traffic armadillo avenues. They thumb their noses at me in a most impertinent fashion. (Armadillos can really thumb their noses.)

I seek aid and relief from a laconic gentleman at the feed store. He suggests coyote...er..urine. "They won't come near it." Who would? My daughter has heard that human hair strewn about is equally repellent to armadillos. Alas, I am bald. And my efforts to build coyote latrines on the front lawn that meet neighborhood building codes are admittedly a failure. Someone else suggested moth balls. I bought a gross and the armadillos put on a juggling show with the little white balls.

Thus you find me, well into the Years of Social Security, at 4:10AM clad only in sagging boxers and with just a trace of foam at the corner of my mouth carrying a seldom used .22 rifle, trying to hold a flashlight and the gun, tripping on armadillo holes and trying not to shoot myself in the foot.

War is hell indeed.

Strawmen we have known and loved

This morning I woke up at 5:30AM to a pretty blond lady on Fox News. Waking up with pretty blond ladies is perfectly okay with me although this particular person was quite upset. Senator Obama was redistributing the wealth and Senator Biden was annoyed because another blond lady (They're everywhere, they're everywhere!) had asked him a question which compared Obama to Karl Marx.

Hello?

Redistribution of wealth is the core of the progressive tax system we use here in this country, which is often called America. Other even more egregious examples include Governor Palin's often expressed brag that she levied a windfall profits tax on "them big oil companies" and gave each resident of Alaska a bonus check with the cash received. An extra bonus check.

Lions and tigers and socialism! Oh my!

Great Lines I Never Heard (And one I did)

Senator John Kerry upon being swiftboated - "I was there, in-country, carrying a weapon. My opponent was not."

Senator Barrack Obama upon hearing of Ms. Palin's new $150,000 wardrobe - "This is the party of fiscal responsibility? Shoulda gone to J.C. Pennys."

President George W. Bush referring to S. Hussain's prior to invading Iraq (saw this on TV) - "Well, he tried to kill my Dad."

They Always Screw It Up.

Man, I believed in John Kennedy. Then he did the Bay of Pigs. I thought Jimmy Carter was a good man. Then 19% inflation and the aborted Iran rescue mission. I voted for Regan and he promptly set a new World Unlimited Record for criminal indictments served on members of his administration. Bush the One was okay if bored. Then I thought President Clinton was okay for a pol and he spit missiles rather randomly across the world. Didn't like Bush the Two from the gitgo since he wanted to rule from the Men's Lounge at the River Oaks Country Club. His invasion of Iraq reminds me of an elephant happily stomping on a flea, only to find it was a decoy flea set enticingly on a field of super glue. Assuming Obama gets elected, I predict an invasion from outer space or giant ants crawling out of cracks in the earth.