American consumers only accept pre-packaged crap from the cable company and the Republican Party

             Imagine the pubic outcry if groceries were to come pre-packaged. Anyone wanting to purchase bread, milk, meat, or vegetables would also have to buy a bunch of over-ripened bananas, five pounds of dark brown beef, a package of tripe or hog brains, a dozen dented cans without labels, and a jar of toddler turkey and dumplings. I can’t see American shoppers accepting this without a huge fight.

            Nor can I picture the special-order fast food crowd agreeing to pay for a prune turnover with each burger and fries or liver and onions on each pizza order. I can hear the screams if the cashier at the movie rental counter automatically adds a porn flick and a copy of the McConnell family’s home video of static cling removal tips with each check out.

            No, American consumers only accept pre-packaged crap from the cable company and the Republican Party. Minutes ago, the Republicans passed, in a straight party-line vote (Republicans for and Democrats against) a Defense Spending, Hurricane Relief, and Flu Preparedness Bill that included tripe, porn, and static cling comparable garbage having nothing to do with defense and everything to do with forcing unpopular crap on the American people while they were sleeping.

            Once again, the bully party has taken advantage of their political muscle, and their loyal, muscles-for-brains-we’re-too-busy-sleeping-to-care supporters. Through carefully crafted sound bites and erroneous language, they misrepresented the bill as a boost for the poor suckers they’ve sent to fight their war, played down the parts where they cut funds for first defenders here at home, clean water, education, food stamps, Medicaid, and all social programs across the board, and outright lied about the tripe they included.

            I don’t hear any screaming yet, and doubt I will in an hour or so when the permanently sleeping open their eyes and shuffle through another day pretending they actually know what they’re doing. They won’t scream until I try to tell them that while they were sleeping, their good friends stuck grandpa’s blood pressure medicine and their morning coffee in the bottom of the grocery cart under the tripe and hog brains. Then, on script, they’ll cry for me to shut-up about my whining.

Sandy Knauer 12/18/05