Danny Doom’s Booze Cabinet

I say up there that in The Booze Cabinet you will find beer, ideas, fiction or ice, but rarely do I come through with the fiction. There’s lots of beer and ideas and ice…but no fiction. So here’s an excerpt of a longer piece, completely out of context and only explicable if you read the whole thing. Which is not finished of course, but godammit, I’m working on it. Enjoy, or scratch your head:

Such sadness, to be cognizant of all of life’s missteps and undiscovered treasures before the end, enough to put it down on paper. Poor woman. It was unfair. I don’t know that we all deserved better but she certainly did. And so where had I not been and what had I not done? The list was endless. The rain slowed to a drizzle with occasional flashes of lightning across the night sky and my head swam with dark thoughts, the gloom of unfinished business. I talked to Ben about Sandy and how I was pushing her away and then there was Dora, and I tried to explain about the magnet she had placed squarely in her crotch. “You’re hopeless,” he said, of course.

He was right about me—it was sick how easily I fell back into it—but I was all caught up in the drama and I had no intention of figuring out why or trying to change. It made things more interesting, to pathetically hop from one failure to the next, getting burned or burning it all down, the romantic arsonist. She was right, that sweet innocent at the Courson House, it was a world on fire, and no wonder I loved that falling star. Ben didn’t understand at all and to his credit he simply ignored me and got to the point.

His mother’s note requested a desire to be littered across the “dry death heat and cactus landscape” of the desert, never having visited such a climate, not once in her life, never even crossing the Mississippi to the west, it was like some fantasy foreign land she had only seen on television or in pictures. I sat there thinking about it and grew more and more depressed. There was no way anyone could properly fill up a life. There would always be something left, always somewhere else to go, and in the end we would all have to accept that the world held places we would never see, pyramids, jungles, exotic locales; mountains, skyscrapers or a burning hole in the ground where a satellite fell. Somewhere was a girl I would never meet, standing at the foot of the Great Wall or walking the beach on a remote island in the Pacific, or maybe just around the corner on a street I sometimes walked. She would close her door just as I went past and go inside to an empty house and I would see a shadow behind a curtain and then a light switch off. It was a world too big, a life too small, and I could hardly move, paralyzed with despair.

Ben shook me out of the haze and demanded that I accompany him. “I can’t do this alone,” he said, “I need a witness. It would mean a lot to me if you came.” I wondered if his mother had simply given up waiting for the course of her life to change, given up on anything but the routine and invested it all in her son. The Burden of Benedict. And were we living the life she was never able to? I had a hard time believing that, not this life.

“A son has to fulfill a mother’s wishes,” I finally said.

We were living within limitations. Why? Why follow the guide? Why allow the cock to rule the mind? I was angry at God for not existing and for allowing me to exist. It was going to have to end somehow—and alone and without warning—and who would I leave behind? I thought of Walter and his false sense of comfort. What part of the equation had he left out in order to find peace? Eternal happiness and proper salvation and superstition and empty slogans. Another conversation, never started, never finished. I wished to have never lived and to never have to die and I could feel the fury building and the terror and the misery and all the while Ben stared at me slack-jawed and maybe even slightly amused.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

I like how Jon Stewart put it: just another politician with a conservative mind and a liberal penis. Can we just stop now and forget about family values as an issue, Republican nutbags? It’s a joke. You can’t get all worked up about Bill Clinton’s penis and then pretend like yours is any different. A liberal penis is a liberal penis, and there isn’t any other kind!

OK, I suppose there may be a few conservative penises out there, but does anyone want anything to do with them? No. Of course not. Don’t be silly. This is why there is so much repression on the right: the conservative mind can’t reconcile the liberal leanings that linger in their pants. Eventually it’s a-gonna burst! And oh, that’s when things get ugly.

Anyway, more good times, nothing like another sex scandal involving a “family values” Republican, it never ends.

Relax, Cub fans and Obama supporters, all is not lost. The Cubs have less time than Obama but they hold the biggest lead of any team besides the L.A. Angels (4.5), and their magic number is 15. So just win, baby. Win!

As for Obama, I do find it odd that after he spent the past year running on the “Change” theme, it is now McCain who is calling for change, despite his own party’s eight-year domination of Washington. Usually it is the party out of favor that is calling for change, yeah? Are people that dumb to fall for it? Yeah, I know, stupid question. Of course they are.

But hey, how can you tell a 70′s porno from the 2008 Republican National Convention?

The amount of Bush in it.

Thanks, I made that one up myself.

So liberal America, let’s celebrate our firm grasp of reality (when we’re not drinking or taking any illicit drugs). The GOP is running on bio, not issues, and ultimately lack the substance to lead. Obama’s got the bio and the issues, and that has to count for something, for once. It HAS to, or we’re all doomed.

Why liberals don’t stand up to this garbage, I don’t know. Without the extraordinary contribution of liberals — from the mightiest presidents to the most unheralded protesters and organizers — the United States would be a much, much worse place than it is today.

- Bob Herbert, NY Times

I know I said that I didn’t care about that whole New York Governor sex scandal stuff, but then I saw the pictures of “Kristen” on The Huffington Post. Suddenly, I am interested. Worth 4K and all this mess? Hell, no! But still… I like this comment from the peanut gallery:

My country is a strange one indeed. We go after our leaders for f*****g everyone but the country.

Makes no sense at all.

Am I hearing this right? Come on, this has to be a joke! Sex and politics have intersected? Again? Wow, that seems really really weird! And highly unusual! Are your balls in an uproar? Because mine sure are. Someone better put a stop to this behavior. Immediately!

Here’s an example of things I give more of a shit about:

Isn’t it weird that every time you go to plug the thing into the wall, it’s always the wrong way? I mean, what is the deal with that? It’s like, every time it doesn’t fit and then you have to turn it around so the big end fits in. Same with headphones. Every time I go to put the earbuds in, the right ear is in my left hand and I have to switch it around! I mean, come on! This is serious stuff!

Everyone knows I am a liberal-minded individual. I don’t care if people have sex in a tree or in the sea. I say OK to sex on a plane and say OK if the sex is the same. Sex and scrambled eggs or sex and long legs. Two or three, the more the merry! Six or eight, that could be great . . .

It’s all good fun, as far as I’m concerned. Bill Clinton? Don’t care. All those Republicans that have been caught in sex scandals since 1998? Don’t care. Yep, all 541 of them. Ah, I kid. Kind of.

The problem is, of course, the hypocrisy. And once again, we see it with the latest right-wing sex scandal. These high and mighty mf’er’s should really drop any pretense of “family values,” don’t you think? As Glenn Greenwald says:

How can any rational person argue that a political movement which constantly exploits claims about private behavior like this for political gain ought to be immunized from scrutiny as to whether their conduct is consistent with what they claim? If having “strong family values” is — as Craig claims — the reason “first and foremost” to support someone’s candidacy for President, then, by definition, whether one has “strong family values” is a politically relevant consideration for such a person. Craig’s own pronounced political standards render it relevant whether a married political official with children is having anonymous sex in bathrooms. That is just logically true.

Why are so many of these guys that are getting caught doing “unsavory” things also happen to be Republican? And why do they happen to be the ones who vote against things like same-sex marriage, under the pretense of preserving the sanctity of marriage between a man and a woman? I really don’t care if these guys are gay and trolling airport bathrooms for sex or picking up male pages on the internet, I just wish they would quit the party line and come clean instead of legislating morality for everyone else, the hypocritical bastards. Morality is dead in the GOP! Give it up and live free, you creepy old SOB’s!

John Kerry was ridiculed in the 2004 elections for mentioning the words “law enforcement” in discussing terrorism, but as long since been proven, he was exactly right. And, as the endless wars that were undertaken instead have proven, they have have had no effect whatsoever on the safety of the American citizens or the threat of future terrorism. Is it any surprise that al-Qaeda has rebuilt its strength and is at pre-9/11 levels? All that war and nothing to show for it.

Indeed, recent foiled attacks (in other countries) have come with what common sense will allow as good intelligence, diligence, and law enforcement. As I stated yesterday, bombing Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, or any other country that Mr. Bush sees fit to deplete our military with, will and has gotten us exactly nowhere. It is a failed exercise in military masturbation that, unfortunately, has no climax. And, as a liberal American, I prefer to ejaculate.

The Tribune’s Steve Chapman writes today of terrorism:

It’s more like organized crime — an ongoing problem demanding unceasing vigilance, a malady that can be contained but never eliminated. By framing the fight as a global war, we have helped Osama bin Laden and hurt ourselves. Had we treated him and his confederates as the moral equivalent of international drug lords or sex traffickers, the organization might not have the romantic image it has acquired. By exaggerating the potential impact, we also magnified the disruptive effect of any plots, which is just what the terrorists seek.

Why is it that other countries who suffer attacks, perhaps not on the scale of 9/11, but serious nonetheless, do not fall into this trap that we as Americans did? (And when I say “we” I mean “them,” as in the hysteric and gullible idiots who bowed down before Bush and the government and said “whatever you need to do, do it!”) London and Scotland gritted their teeth and remained stoic in the face of recent terror, and the world kept turning without panic and without grand and stupid gestures. Is it just that they don’t have Mr. Bush as their leader and we do?

Chapman:

We do further harm to ourselves by accepting government actions we would never tolerate except in the context of war . . . Crime is a serious national problem that used to be even worse. At the height of the mayhem back in 1991, more than 24,000 Americans were murdered annually — a Sept. 11, 2001, attack every six weeks. Yet even when the toll was at its worst, we insisted that police respect the constitutional rights of suspected criminals. We maintained the limits on the power of the president and other law enforcement officials to investigate and imprison people. For the most part, we kept our perspective.

After the World Trade Center came down, by contrast, we let ourselves be convinced that many restrictions were an unaffordable luxury. Any concern for civil liberties was met with the retort: “We’re at war.” And in war, anything goes.

Who would have ever thought that war wasn’t the answer? Come on, who would have imagined such a thing? Not the scared Americans that got us in this mess. Well, it’s time for men with blue balls to step aside and let the virile ones back in power. Call me anytime, I’m game.

UPDATE: Just to clarify, “virile ones” is meant to imply a male trait, but of course I would welcome a female leader just as strongly, and especially one who was in favor of ejaculation, or smart and intelligent foreign policy, or climaxing. As some already know about me, I prefer women to men in most cases. As it happens, I prefer a certain male over a certain female at this point in time to be the next president. But that could change, as the seasons turn and the summer fades, and our collective balls slowly turn from blue to purple to a comfortable shade of calm pink.

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A good way to waste time is to spin around Google Earth for a while, like I did the other morning, but I just saw this article that adds a whole new element of intrigue:  “Bloggers ogle at Google Earth’s topless sunbathers.”  There’s also something about hovering cars and missiles in Iraq.  Very cool.

Longtime readers of my burning and blistered Cabinet of Booze may recall the fun little segment we liked to call “Letters From Andrew” that used to run regularly around here. They were actually “emails” from my old friend Andrew that I would receive on an irregular basis but always filled with strange insight and illuminating knowledge. Well, Andrew disappeared for a while and I actually wrote to him some time last year to ask of his whereabouts and whether the walrus had finally got to him or not, but was met with no response. My concerns grew, but not a word came to reassure me. Andrew, I feared, had been lost.

Last night, to my great surprise, an email from Andrew appeared in my inbox with the subject titled “Hiatus has been lifted.” The email was so long (easily the longest email ever) that I couldn’t possibly re-print it here, but excerpts will have to do, because there is a lot to catch up on. I could probably do excerpts from this email throughout the next few weeks… So today, on this beautiful Friggin Friday, I present to you, once again, to the delight of hundreds, the return of…Letters From Andrew:

Danny,

The short of it is I’m back in business. Ready to jam and jam again. So get out the old toast and fire up that toaster, get the hair dryer too. You’ll need the hair dryer to make that much toast. Heat gun ever better. Me no full sentences always. Me see curly haired girl. Me like. Me track. Bright dot on radar. Always in that direction.

So do you think things will turn around 9/12? I’m going to be an election inspector 9/12 and 11/7. I’ve been doing this a while now. It will be different for me this time. I used to do it in a community center with about 10 districts voting there. This time I’ll be at a fire station in a tiny town. Why am I condemned from a big city? It looks like England won’t be testing positive for TB after a while. Goodbye TB. TB & W sitting in a tree…

Beneficial nematoads and diatomaceous earth. Not just regular earth, diatomaceous earth! I love saying that. Say it out loud. Not too fast, it’s over all too soon. If only it took an hour to say.

The coroner just said it was the potato salad at the picnic so he could go home. He didn’t have a clue. Like someone else will find out that he was wrong? That’s why being a coroner is such a great job. It’s up there with weathermen (oh, I’m sorry), weatherpeople. Ooohhh, I was wrong again for the 3rd time this week, what are you going to do fire me [ferocious laughter]?

A strange transaction late at night in an alley in which 3 bowling pins are traded for a bowling ball that’s been sawed in half,

Andrew

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You start targeting shit that no one cares about, like in-room hotel porn. No, you’re not really, are you? Yes, we are! But, why? Well, our president turned out to be a total bust whose only talent is to generate wars and violence, and while sent from Jesus’ flock, he has not done the Lord’s work as efficiently as we had hoped. And the End of the World has not Left Behind the evil ones and ascended us to Heaven yet, so through great organizations such as the Family Research Council and Concerned Women for America, we can sit in our suburban ranch homes watching soap operas and try to make a difference somehow.

By eliminating the option of porn on the pay-per-view channels of major hotel chains, we can breathe a sigh of relief when our husbands go off on business to Atlanta or Houston or San Diego, knowing that only pure and wholesome programming awaits them in their lonely room. Like American Idol or Wife Swap. Sure, there may be an increase in phone calls to sex chat lines, or maybe even a jump in prostitution, but we’ll deal with that next! Praise the Lord!