Tag Archives: election 2004

Ouija Board, Ouija Board

Morrissey calls election for Jon Stewart.

The staff apologizes for the recent lack of updates, but we were crumpled in a drunken heap on the floor. Some call it a black out, we call it a power nap. Now we’re tanned, rested, and ready. Hello Cleveland!

The rest of the Morrisseys are temporarily at bay, stymied by a broomstick through the door handles. We are like to crawl under the bed, such are our nerves frayed by the existence of the entire middle and south of the country. Sure, they have a right to exist, but we have a right to be utterly boggled.

Afraid of Americans?

Things are getting pretty crazy here at Morrissey headquarters. The Morrisseys are uniformly UNINTERESTED IN BUSH. Go figure. Adam and the Ants were eventually driven back by handfuls of confetti and a rousing rendition of “Reel Around the Fountain”. We were then favored by a visit from


Mr. Bowie feels that we need more feminine sophistication in this election, and offered to preside. It’s a walk-off, everybody!

The Things That Dreams Are Made Of

Licketysplit here, reporting that The Adam and the Ants Party was not pacified by Dick Cheney wrapping a neck tie around his forehead on CNN, although it was a valiant effort. After they all got through waiting in line to vote, they opted to sit and have lunch.

I conducted an exit poll with the Human League, and, unsurprisingly, they are staunchly backing asymmetrical haircuts.

The Kerry camp responded in kind:

I did not get a sticker when I voted, so I am relying on going topless to get my point across.

Morrissey the Vote!

Morrissey has spoken of his fear and loathing of Bush and the Regime of Darkness. So I decided to join the Morrissey Camp for Election Day. And that’s “camp” with a capital “C”! Their party banner “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore”, seems to refer to a desire to ban war, meat consumption, and tedious people at parties! The Morrisseys are casting their votes for Kerry en masse, and advocating the return of lillies and dramatic dancing.

We were just enjoying a round of Earl Grey, when news broke of a rival faction! Moz headquarters are currently being protested by The Adam and the Ants Party.

They are crying out for the nation to “Stand and Deliver!” And while they, too, support Kerry, unlike the Morrisseys they favor extravagant neckwear and sexuality. Vote your conscience!

Back to you in the trenches!

Get Out the Vomitola: 2004

Well, I voted at 7 a.m. with all the old people. A nice little old lady checked my name off the list, but not without a fight. “Oh, are you Cheryl?” Cheryl is my upstairs neighbor. I peeked at the sheet, and Cheryl was registered as a Republican. “No, Cheryl will still be in bed. She drinks, you know. I wonder if she’ll try to vote drunk. You should really stop her.”

Lambchop winged her way to New York City to court the Morrissey vote and the multiple personality vote with Violet Shuraka and our own Manuel on the Street. I went to New Hampshire to heckle people holding Bush signs. Later I may Photoshop myself holding a newspaper that announces that John Kerry has won the election.

Watch this space all day today, as we’ll be bringing you live coverage as our drinking schedule permits. I’m on my way up to Cheryl’s now.

In the meantime, check out Project Vote Smart to find out about other candidates and ballot measures in your area. If you’re in Massachusetts, find your voting location.

November spawned a monster

I had been saving that subject line in case Bush won next week, but after my little whoopsie-daisy in the time machine the other day, I am pretty convinced he will not. I was just telling my sister the Moose that I should have taken a picture of myself holding next week’s newspaper, but since I correctly reported the ever-baffling Red Sox winning the Superbowl or whatever that was before they actually did it, I should be all set in the proof department. Besides, taking pictures of oneself out at arm’s length is a little Sweet Valley High or something. High you say. The hell.

Someone reminded me that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have a costume. I thought of the scariest thing I could, and it looked like Copperplate Gothic and Comic Sans in a grotesque threesome with Arial, spelling out “Support Our Troops” on one of those inscrutable magnetic ribbons. All the churches and high schools up this way changed their moveable letter boards to read “Go Sox” instead of “Support Our Troops,” so I guess we have a reprieve from supporting. Curt Schilling, poster boy for “resolve,” wants you to vote Bush. Go back to your red state, sirrah. Let the heavens continue to smile on Massachusetts, and stop trifling, people.

I suppose I should be Bitter for Halloween.

I wrote this yesterday morning and never got around to posting, and it scarcely feels relevant, but then again, what ever is.

Now my heart is full

he's the Mary, hurrah

Wow, that was a hell of a ride. Yesterday was certainly the most memorable November Tuesday of MY young, glamorous life. John Kerry’s stunning upset over George W. Bush had me up until the wee hours, biting my nails at first until Florida and Michigan and Pennsylvania came in blue.

My jaw hung open when they called Texas for Kerry, followed by North Carolina and Tennessee. After that, I wasted no time diving into the case of Chateau Lafitte I’d been saving for just such an occasion. Kerry looked so presidential when he gave his victory speech. That man can pick out a tie. As anyone could have predicted, Bush simpered and smirked and screwed up a Yogi Berra quote, something along the lines of “The over it ain’t.” At some point my head hit the coffee table.

I just don’t know what I would have done if John Kerry did not win this election. Probably I would have continued to think about my hair, or I might have ordered a bubble tea. Oh well, now I no longer have to retain any conscience or political awareness at all!

Yet I am puzzled that the morning papers have absolutely no coverage of this momentous event. And talk of the Red Sox and their thrilling series victory also seems to have faded. Stranger still, when I went to my shrink appointment, he seemed utterly unaware of Daylight Savings Time, and told me I was too late for my appointment. Oh well, the stupid little creatures of nature don’t bother me now that we are free from the perilous scourge of four more years of totalitarian rule. Did Daylight Savings Time get cancelled this year? I seem to have totally missed the Today show. I was really wondering what Al Roker thought about all of this.

(edit: This is what happens when someone staggers drunkenly into the time machine, their fingers still sticky from gummi bears! Licketysplit is now vomiting in the pines somwhere in the catskills, 1947. I have no idea where she plans to spend her hangover- Havana, perhaps? So you must all still VOTE, and save the planet and all that. A Rush and a Push and the Land we stand on is Ours. It has been before, so it shall be again!-lc)

Baby I Can Drive Your Car

I have returned from Berlin, and there stood Helen behind the velvet rope at the airport, holding up a sign that said “Morrissey!” It’s a good thing she was there as a witness, because this trawl through the airport has me not only convinced that ugly people have lives, and problems, and pay car insurance, they also go on vacations! Apparently, you can be possessed of a face full of chancres and still zip off to Amsterdam for a Holiday. (and they let you in!) Mouth-breathers with harelips still pack off to St. Tropez. The human spirit is astonishing, ladies and gentleman.

I have not even unpacked or taken my new iBook for a spin (Helen made the Morrisseydance my wallpaper!). ‘Ere I landed, I had to go back to work, and then off to shoot a scene for the My Little Pain in the Ass Movie. I arrive at the set and try not to think of the month’s worth of laundry that I need to do, the giant overflowing suitcase in the middle of my bed, the slides that need to be catalogued, the work that needs to be photographed with my new camera, the new biography I have to write for my gallery website, or the emails yet to send to notify Berlin that I arrived safely. Yes, I thought of none of those things. Good. Then the director tells me that in this scene I have to Drive. A Car. Yes, Drive. A Car. Everyone knows that I do not know how to drive a car! Everyone who has ever helped me move, or travel or go grocery shopping. Hell, even the Liberal State of Massachusetts knows that I can’t drive. I know this is as rare as an individual who has never eaten a hamburger at McDonalds. How did I reach the age of thirty without learning to drive? How did I miss this teenage right of passage? Like a lot of privileges of youth, it just slipped me by. Anyway, I took a cast of three careening down a dark street, screeching to a halt to dump a bloody man out, and tearing off shrieking with mirth. The fact that I needed to be shown where the gas and the brake pedal are, made this rather easy to do. We are going for realistic terror here, people!

So I may be tired, my manicure ragged, and things in general disarray, but I drove a car. Maybe I will even apply for a permit.

In between takes, I got to peer at the debate. I am chagrined to see that Bush has polished up his act enough to appear “likeable” and “compassionate”, so that Middle America will not think about the fact that this is a man unconcerned with the pileups of corpses, who has declared his feeling that captaining a dictatorship would make it easier for him to “get stuff done.” But how much can you really polish a turd? Kerry proved once again that he has a working knowledge of government and an awareness of such impenetrable concepts as human rights (for non-whites!) No matter how much we plead for sanity here at Vomitola, some of you are going to vote for a criminal regime with your own little flag waving hearts. Be our guest.

However, DO NOT VOTE FOR NADER OR WE WILL COME AND FIND YOU. We realize here that a healthy democracy means we have to break this two party jamboree. But the third candidate on the ballot this year exists only as a symbol of that fact. What is more crucial to the vitality of our freedoms, and the right to life of others–a symbolic move toward multiple party elections in the United States, or a Bush-free White House? We leave that for you to determine.*

*we know where you live.



Go straight to hell boys

I Support Our Troops More Than You Do

My friends, I am a hateful American. I’ve got rage in my heart, even supplanting the usual lust. Last night I sat around with Lambchop and Midsentence and Mr. H, and we tried to sloganeer something in witty opposition to the slew of yellow ribbons floating around on cars around these parts. If by some miracle you haven’t seen one, they are all a variation on the wording “Support Our Troops,” and the most prevalent design features an elaborate script font that one must view from about two inches away to parse.

So what do these affronts to graphic design actually mean? We thought “I don’t want anyone else to suffer or die as part of the specious war on terror, and I hope the troops get home safely very soon, and I’d like everyone to take a moment and hope their tax dollars are being spent in the most judicious manner to ensure all this safety” would be too long for a bumper sticker. Of course what everyone really means is exactly what is depicted on the button above, from the delightfully wicked Whitehouse.org. My cause is holier than your cause.

It really is hard to know what to do with oneself when larger doings are afoot. There are no victory gardens or scrap drives, but you can send a random soldier a $79 gift basket of peppermint foot lotion via Treats for Troops. I can only imagine it would be well-appreciated, but somehow it borders on insulting. Here’s some Halloween candy, how is it in Hell? Have all the people with those magnets on their cars sent a soldier lip balm, sunscreen, or baby wipes? Phone cards or batteries? Are they contributing to funds to equip housing for newly disabled soldiers with wheelchair ramps? Perhaps babysitting so an overwhelmed military spouse dealing with a deployment of a partner can go grocery shopping? Did they do anything besides slap that sucker on the car and feel better for 5 whole minutes? Maybe they donated a Gmail address.

I wish I had the answers. I think I know one thing most of us can do on November 2, but that won’t suddenly introduce logical thinking to the country as a whole, no matter who wins.

This morning at the grocery store, I was behind a man with a Bush button on his collar. The bagger in this line clearly has Down Syndrome, and he is always very efficient and pleasant despite the wave of people who pretend he doesn’t exist every day. He noticed the man’s button, and said “Oh, so you’re for the president then.” The man smiled and said he was, and left, saying “Support those troops!” The bagger muttered under his breath “I’m for Kerry!” I said “Hey, me too,” and he beamed and asked if I planned to watch the debate tonight. I said I did even though I had made up my mind already, and he said “It’s good to know what’s going on in the world.”

No shit. Then he told me store brand ice cream is actually made by Breyers. Also good to know!

I could sense the hate/of the lonestar state/And a small voice said, “What can we do?”

Mess with Texas

Some blatant propaganda:

Are you registered to vote? It may not be too late.

TV Station Reports that Bush Has Been Elected President, via an unnamed friend who refuses to confront his obesity.

Talking heads, scary because it’s true. Via another unnamed friend who hates work more than I do. I particularly like the part in this where they say “turrurists” like they are auditioning to do backup in a Nelly song.

Congressman Marty Meehan (5th district, D, MA) is sponsoring a petition against consideration of a military draft.

Finally, after you watch tonight’s debate, why not stumble over to FactCheck.org to do more research?