Big Mike Glab

Lots of hot air.

Big Mike Glab

Big Mike Glab
Location
Bloomington, Indiana, USA
Birthday
March 04
Title
Boss
Company
The Electron Pencil
Bio
Author, journalist. Born, raised and lived in Chicago until The Loved One started dragging me around the country a couple of years ago. I still have a sick fixation on the Cubs.

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FEBRUARY 20, 2011 1:09PM

Not The Tea Party, Not The We Party...,

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 Originally published in The Third City.

 

So the Tea Party-ists have descended upon that holdover from the Soviet era, Madison, Wisconsin. They did battle against the forces of all that is evil and godless and perverted and spend-thrift-y.

Tens of thousands of, ugh — workers, had been protesting Gov. Scott Walker’s attempts to de-fang government employees’ unions. That’s what they say but the Tea Party-ists know better. The protesters’ true aim is, um, well, uh…, it’s just to tax the rest of us to death so they can drive Saabs and celebrate gay marriages. Or something.

The Tea Party-ists have had enough so they were going to slap some sense into all those stinkin’ pinkos.

I speculated here last week that the street revolts in the Middle East might be a viral phenomenon. I wondered if The Great United States, Inc. might at some time in the future endure mass demonstrations calling for one or another kind of radical change.

A Wisconsin official yesterday said some 55,000 people, both  for and against the Walker plan, jammed the Capitol square. Is that mass enough for you?

The future just might be now.

Even The White Oprah II*, Sarah Palin, weighed in, saying the Wisconsin unionists need to sacrifice for the good of us all. These are sage words coming from a woman who makes a super good living giving speeches at pep rallies and traipsing through the Alaskan snow for the entertainment of the brain dead.

* I borrow this term with apologies to Dina Lohan, another breezy loon who’s called the W.O. by daughter Lindsay‘s friends. Mama Lohan earned the tag, apparently, because the kids all flock to her for advice, the poor saps. I think it fits Palin better because the dropout-governor is now a TV star who maintains a Svengali-like control over an audience that finds thinking for themselves an odious burden.

Gov. Walker has come to the conclusion that his state’s budgetary ills are due to the accursed working women and men of this once holy land. These pampered idlers want to be paid a decent wage and want to meet management in collective bargaining sessions. Did you get that? Col-lec-tive! As in Commie!

Oh, for the days when goons and cops could crack the skulls of laborites with impunity! Now legislators have to endure the horrors of criticism from wine-sippers for wanting to underpay and overwork the common clay.

But, huzzah, they now have allies in this jihad. The Tea Party-ists.

But, see, it just occurred to me that they’ve misnamed themselves. They call themselves the Tea Party because some guys dressed as Indians so they could dump tons of tea into Boston Harbor to protest a tax that was never enforced. Once those patriots showed the British what was what they were able to go about the important business of slaughtering a continent full of Indians.

Yep. Nothing like paying homage to history’s greatest  genocide. Sorta like a few other members of the Tea Party gang who wave the Stars and Bars. They want their budgets to balance and their brown people to remember who can wipe their asses out.

The Tea Party cares most about things like the individual’s crushing tax burden (Americans pay a laughably miniscule amount of taxes), the individual’s ability to amass guns (despite the fact that, um, people get their brains blown out with them), and the individual’s sacred right to own property without the encumbrance of zoning laws (I wonder how they’d react if someone wanted to build a landfill next door.)

The common denominator in these concerns? The individual.

So Sarah-baby and all her pals can keep the meter and sound quality of their moniker if they just rename themselves to reflect what they really care for. They should be The ME Party.

 

Read The Third City every day. And turn off that TV! 

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