Do you know about Sharron Angle yet?  She is the Tea Party-backed Republican candidate for the 2010 election challenging Harry Reid. 

So, here’s a HuffPost article about a January 2010 exchange on the Bill Manders show.  You can play the audio at that link, but here’s a transcript:

Manders:  I, too, am pro life.  But I’m also pro choice.  Do you understand what I mean when I say that?

Angle:  I’m pro responsible choice.  There is choice to abstain, choice to do contraception. There are all kind of good choices.

Manders:  Is there any reason at all for an abortion?

Angle:  Not in my book.

Manders:  So, in other words, rape and incest would not be something [trails off]?

Angle:  You know, I’m a Christian.  And I believe that God has a plan and a purpose for each one of our lives and that he can intercede in all kinds of situations.  And we need to have a little faith in many things.

So — going to try to be exquisitely fair here: if a father holds his little girl down and rapes her, and she becomes pregnant, God could intercede.  If he doesn’t intercede, that’s part of his plan.  We would be sinning and subverting divine will if we allowed the girl to have an abortion.  The proper response is faith in God.

Does that about cover it?

This.  Woman.  Is running.  For national office.

She is the candidate of the more-conservative of the two main U.S. political parties.

Before I move on to the rest of my post, let’s get this vile piece of Angular detritus out of the way.  It is too late to unspeak the words she spoke about rape and incest.  That horse has left.  There is no way you mess that one up that bad.  It’s more absurd than saying, ‘Officer, when I said ‘Open the register and give me all your money!’, I meant to say ‘Do I have to buy something to get some change for the pay phone?’”

So, I’m setting my clock as of the timestamp of this post.  The RNC has 48 hours to withdraw all support for Angle.  That much is a given.  A statement on the order of “We were unaware of the insanity of Ms. Angle, and we apologize for our previous support of her.  The Republican National Committee does not oppose abortion in the case of rape nor incest.  We disown anyone who argues otherwise, for any reason, including superstitious special pleading.”  If they do not, they are complicit.  If they do not, and if you are registered Republican, you must be publicly vocal about how abhorrent this is, and at least write a letter to the party, or you are complicit.  That’s my line in the sand.

OK, now that I’ve established (to my satisfaction) that she is reprehensibly inhuman, or sociopathic, or both, my main point is done.  But I want to take a look at something very interesting that fell into place while researching this post.  I want to argue that this functions as a case study of when some religious conservatives choose to play the “illegally imposing their agendas” card.  Let’s do a little quoting:

Here’s Sharron Angle’s official “About” page on her website:

She is proud of her past chairwomanship of We The People Nevada PAC

We The People used to have a web presence, but no longer.  But that’s what archive.org is for.  Stored on the archive servers 2005-03-11:

There is a strong movement by atheists to ban religious thought form the public square.  This should be recognized as an attempt to establish atheism as the national religion. … The ACLU, NEA, and other organizations are examples of atheistic institutions trying to gain political control and an unfair advantage over Christian groups

So: atheists are trying to illegally impose their religious beliefs (“lack thereof”, actually, but when your only book is the Bible, everything looks like a faith), through political means, to the unfair detriment of some others, in a fashion that would set national policy.

One more.  Also from the cached PAC page:

The radical homosexual movement and other groups seek to destroy the traditional family structure which is the underpinning of society.  Their agenda should be opposed.

Gay activists (and, remember, the ACLU was implicated above) are trying to destroy the underpinnings of society.  Their agenda should be opposed.

So, tying it together: silly, silly, silly me.  You know how crazy-liberal I am?  I thought one of the underpinnings of society was undoing the harm caused by fathers who rape their children.  I thought that, given that We the People and I agree that “The establishment clause prevents the combining of the state with religious organizations”, that dictating the definitions of what family means — not only who can get married, but why it is OK to let a god mediate when a “traditional family” is destroyed by a villain from the inside — on the basis of what the god the person speaking happens to believe in is interpreted to desire — could be considered … pretty much nuts.

But that’s just me.  I’m an atheist.  I, therefore, am probably using this unfairly in an effort to make my lack of religion the official national religion, to the unfair disadvantage of these Christians.  Who, of course, have no such desires.  Unless they win.

(For the sake of rigor:  I haven’t been able to determine [help?] what years Angle chaired We The People, and cross-reference it against archive.org caches of their “Principles” page during her tenure.  Until I get this, it is just conceivable that this politician who thinks that abortion is not justified even in cases of child rape does not believe in a conspiracy of gays and atheists to destroy America.  I think that’s unlikely.  I expect you would think so, too.  But let me know if it’s that’s the case.  I’ll have to Google for another example.  In the interests of efficiency, I’ll start with listings of Tea Party candidates.)

As Plato quoted Heraclitus, and the peerless Dr. Nathan Tierney had us memorize, “ποταμοῖσι τοῖσιν αὐτοῖσιν ἐμϐαίνουσιν, ἕτερα καὶ ἕτερα ὕδατα ἐπιρρεῖ”.  Tomorrow may be better.  It may be worse.  But it will certainly be different.

As the Sufis graced us, and Lincoln quoted:

هذا أيضا سوف يمر أو يعدي

And, with any luck, when it passes, it will pass into publication.  Properly lived, then properly rendered, it may be exquisite — and, it is to be hoped, meaningful to Niall in his adulthood.

But that is not for now.  For tonight, I console myself with Tibullus’ elegy: “Credula vitam spes fovet et melius cras fore semper dicit“.  The hope may be unwarranted, but it is good enough for a pillow.  Good night.  See you on the flip-side, friends.

Excerpt from “Dear Texas: Please shut up. Sincerely, History” by Mark Morford:

Hey, kids!  Here’s something I bet you didn’t know: Black people?  Back in 1800 or whenever?  They liked being slaves.  True!  Many savvy, industrious Negroes actually volunteered for that fine, desirable position.  It was a completely balanced, fair, hugely successful system, until those damn liberals came along and ruined everything.  I know, right?  What a shame.

Do you know what else?  America was wholly victorious in Vietnam.  It’s a fact!  Kicked some serious enemy butt!  Mission accomplished!  Sure it was a little bumpy for awhile, but President Nixon, that great and wronged American hero, put us on the righteous path in the end, wrapped that sucker up beautifully and made America the noble Superman to the world.  Hey, it’s the truth!  You can look it up in your history textbook!

Of course the venom is justified.  But the best use of sympathetic venom is not to curl up and let it take hold but to stand up and find the antidote.

This is not the first time the issue has crossed the mcgees.org desk.  It did 8 years ago as Texas Textbook Bonfire.  But don’t just get pissed.  Get moving.  Write letters.  Better yet, donate to almost anyone in the “Sleeve” section of the mcgees.org sidebar.

Get moving, people.  Work now, snark later.

John Allen Muhammed, the “Beltway Sniper”, was just executed by the state of Virginia by lethal injection.  The U.S. Supreme Court denied a last-minute appeal.  Many people think this was necessary to provide closure.  I think we haven’t done enough.

For one thing, the news reports I’ve read have said “his family’s reactions were not discussed”.  What the fuck?  His family?  Are we talking immediate family?  We let them live?  What kind of a country is this?  I don’t think they’re talking about kissing cousins, either.  This sounds like immediate fucking family.  As far as I’m concerned, we’re just getting started.

Next stop: he was born in New Orleans.  Now, yes, granted, the Bush administration did everything in its power to destroy the city already, but last time I checked, it’s still fucking there.  This means that potentially there are neighbors, schools — people instrumental in his very upbringing — who are still alive and kicking.

And don’t get me fucking started on the Muslim bit.  Islam is still legal after the rampage?  WTF?

Pinko Justice Stevens dissented from the majority opinion opposing a stay by noting that it is “perverse” to execute a criminal before his appeals process has concluded.  Appeals?!  You’ve got to be kidding me.  This guy gets appeals?!  He’s a fucking terrorist.

But it gets worse.  I’ve heard it proposed that we should have just chopped off the guy’s hands.  Nonsense.  Modern prostheses are awesome.  They have shoulder control.  I was listening to an amputee vet just tonight talk about them.  So they proposed chopping off his arms.  But as far as I’m concerned, he would still have his head, would he not?  And to the people who think we should have just cut off his head?  For fuck’s sake: the guy worked for Farrakahn.  You think a little head-chopping is going to stop him?

But –

[sigh.  deep breath.]

I can deal with these liberals.  I just needed a pause.  There are people — real people — supposed Americans — who thought that imprisoning him for life would have been effective.  “It would get him off the streets,” they argued with straight faces.  “He could never hurt anyone again.”  Blah blah blah unable to differentiate right from wrong blah blah blah human rights blah blah blah counter-productive in a realm where jihadists regularly make martyrs of suicide bombers.  And you thought not killing his family was bad.  Seriously: I know where some of these commies live.  Contact me by email.  We’ll sort this out.

So, The Crest, right?

There is an impossibly divey bar in Temple City by the name of The Crest.  It looked so run-down that for years I assumed it was out of business.  Then I found out it wasn’t.  I just had to go there.  I went there last week — it’s the “country bar” I referenced — not knowing at all what to expect.  What I didn’t expect were $2.75 drinks, though I probably should have from the place.  Also, what I didn’t expect were really nice people working there.

So I went back tonight.

Tonight is Monday.  This is, it turns out, a significant day-of-the-week in American sports.  Oh yeah.  OK.  I figured I was lucky to get a seat at the bar.  I am way weird at this bar.  I’m used to hanging out places at which the weirder you are, the more you fit in.  This is not one of those places.  Par example: Last week I attracted the attention of another patron because of [redacted reason].  He came over to me and we started talking.  He was maybe in his late forties.

This is one of those occasions I’m discovering as an adult where Niall is really useful.  “Kids” is an icebreaker.  He had two sons.  I asked how old they were.  I find out the older one is 24 and the younger “passed away”.

Quick: look very sympathetic and very impassive.  “I’m.  Um.  Very sorry.”

“Oh, it’s OK,” he said.

“I’m.  Um.  Sorry?”

“He was in Iraq.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I tell people this: and, I don’t mean to offend you, I mean I just met you, but people who are anti-war, I don’t know if you are…”  I am, but quick, impassive!  “I tell people this.  ‘Let’s say someone breaks into your house.  He kills your son, rapes your wife, rapes your daughter, and kills your daughter in front of you.  What do you do?’  ‘Oh, I fucking kill him.’  ‘See?’”

“That’s a really good reason for being in Afghanistan, and not a very good reason for being in Iraq,” I reflexively reply.  Oh holy fuck.  Not cool, McGee.  This is not the safe, rarefied air of the liberal blogosphere.  This guy’s son died in Iraq.  Also, fuck, drunk Republican!  Do I need to duck?!

His gaze stumbles, and he gestures in a placid, equanimous way.  “Well, you never know,” he says.

“No, I guess you don’t,” I say.  Fuck.  Recover now.  “And what greater sacrifice can you make for your country?”  In the spur of the moment, this strikes me as ridiculously poor logic but something that might sound consoling to a conservative.  I was right.

Back to tonight.  The almost-run-in did not deter me from returning.  I went back.  The bartender remembered me.  Not my name, but remembered that I had said I was going to return.  And football was on the television.  I settled in and ordered my bizarre regular drink.  She said, “Oh, that’s right!”

She brought me the drink and asked me, “Hey, want to join the football pool?”

“No,” I demurred.  “I don’t know enough about football to join a football pool.”

“Oh, that’s OK!” she said.  “You don’t have to.  You see, we take the score and go across, then we take the score and go down, and the person in the square wins the pool.  It’s $150.”

Working.  Working.  Working.  Nope.  “I’m sorry?”

“See, it works like this.”  She pulls out a piece of paper with that week’s pool.  “We take the first team’s finishing score.  We count that score across.  Then we take the other team’s score.  We count that score down.  Then we look whose name is in the box.  Like, pretend this is me.”  She points to ‘Paula’.  “She’s one-two-three-four-five-six across.  Then one-two-three-four down.  If it’s six to four, she wins.  So it’s kind of random.”

That’s.  Not.  Even close to random, I think, but, impassive is the name of the game.  “Maybe next time,” I say.

So no one knows me here.  No one knows how weird I am.  The know my drink is weird, they know I look incongruous, they know I have some weird habits that I have to declare in advance so they don’t get me thrown out on my ass.  They also don’t know I’m a vegetarian.  And they have $8 steaks.  Steak.  Been a long time for steak.  What the hell, right?  I order a piece of a dead cow.

And they deliver it.  I had ordered it medium rare.  I figured they’d overcook it, which was OK.

They didn’t.  It was seared, and — I believe this is the right term — slightly warmed inside.  Well, fuck.  OK.  I start to eat the steak.  I get halfway through and, oh shit.  Body does not like this.  I quickly ask bartender to watch my bag, and I go to the restroom.  And vomit.  Just a little bit, yes, but, retch.  And kneeling in the bathroom, I think to myself, OK.  You have to pretend you’re someone else to get by in here.  You don’t like the music.  You don’t like the sports.  You like the bartender, but are somewhat afraid of getting killed by the other patrons.  What the fuck are you doing here?

You know what?  I couldn’t come up with a very compelling reason.  So I went back and said, “Could I close this out?”

Bartender looks at my half-finished steak and untouched potato and salad and asks, “Would you like a box for that?”

Oh.  Right.  Box.  You’re supposed to look like you’re going to eat this later.  “Great!” I say.  Internally: Hurry.  Pepto Bismal required.

Box is fetched, I make haste, and I am … OK, if I say “Crest-fallen”, it’s going to look like the post was a wind-up for the pun.  I actually just thought of it now, but I’ll avoid it anyway.  I am … determined to find places to hang out where I don’t have to be someone else.  Somewhere with weird punk hairdos, somewhere with asshole bartenders, somewhere with indifferent patrons, and, unfortunately, somewhere with $8 drinks.  Will it work?  Well, you never know.

Let me introduce you to Joose: a 700 ml can of a 9.9% alcohol concoction loaded with copious amounts of taurine, caffeine, and other fun stuff usually found in Monster Drinks.  Let me save you the math and tell you that this is equivalent to three cans of Red Bull and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc with, it appears, benzene, xylene, and embalming fluid added.

A day late for Towel Day, I observe with equal parts glee, horror, and pain that this drink appears to be the closest legal thing to a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster.  I feel like my head has been bronzed, wrapped in a smelly wet towel, and hit repeatedly with both sides of a cross-peen hammer.  I wasn’t aware there were any beverages that gave you a hangover before you got to enjoy them.

Any or all of the preceding links may offend you with Flash animations, infect you with malware, or cause vermin to crawl out of your computer vents.  Normally I’d vet that kind of thing for you, but I need to go lie down somewhere dark and quiet for the next week.