Friday, May 4, 2012

"Go Fuck Yourself, Mitt Romney" By Jimmy Carter After Five Bourbons

I don't drink. I don't swear. And usually, when people attack me like this I work it off by building houses for folks and reading Goodnight Moon to little baby goats at this petting zoo near my house. But Rosalynn's on a trip with relatives, and... and I just got to thinking about some of the stuff that's being said out there. Anyway, next thing I know, I'm back from the package store, and the Wild Turkey isn't even out of the bag, but I've already had a few. Lemme just get this out, before I overthink it.

Mr. Romney, I would like to sincerely and cordially invite you to go fuck yourself. Is that clear enough? As a longtime peace negotiator I'm always trying to find exactly the right words to convey the full nuance of what I'm trying to communicate. So let me add that I hope you get beaten in this race in an ugly and embarrassing spectacle, and that it actually causes you to soil your shorts in public, you smarmy, creepy, robotic freak.
I know your handlers are making you throw my name out there as a sort of catchall term for liberal wimp, so you can link me to Obama. Those handlers can go fuck themselves too by the way.

Let me see if I got this: You're calling me a wuss, because of the hostage crisis and the failed rescue mission. Because I didn't go in there and just bomb the crap out of everything that moved, crush the government, and bring back whoever survived. And that I often used restraint, and I always tried to negotiate instead of sending in the Marines, and so I wasn't a strong leader, like Ronald Reagan. Is that the narrative?

Yeah, well, here's something you and Reagan and most of the 2012 GOP candidates all have in common. You motherless jagoffs have never put on a uniform. I actually served on a goddamn submarine - do you have any idea how small and claustrophobic those bastards are, and how unnerving it is to be out there under enough water to kill you if something goes wrong? Military people of all branches live with the constant threat of death, and so when you become the Commander in Chief your job is to not treat them like extras in an over budget action film. Sometimes I think I'm the last president who realized that.

The other fact that has not yet dawned on you is that every action you take has consequences that last long after you're gone. The whole reason we were in a conflict with the Iranians in 1979 was that back in 1953 the CIA thought it'd be cute if we toppled their government and help put in the Shah. That's why they're a pain in our balls, even now. They're mad at how we don't treat the lives of people in their country - hell, the whole region - like they're actually worth something.

Instead of blowing stuff up, I got the Soviets to sign an agreement on human rights at the Helsinki Accords. Everyone called me King of the Pussies for that one. You know who didn't? Lech Walesa. In Robert Gates's spy memoir, he talks about how Walesa said the agreement gave dissident groups in Poland a way to begin attacking the brutal regime in their country. Gates also writes that an entire generation of dissidents in Russia itself say it inspired them to push for change. So we did something smart. We did something right. And no one had to put a hundred thousand troops in harm's way or create a secret prison so we could waterboard people.

By the way, you know why I treated foreigners like their lives were worth something? Because I was the first modern evangelical president. I have a relationship with Jesus. And contrary to what you may have heard at your GOP fundraisers, He's actually not that big on indiscriminate killing. You right wing folks say you're all up in His grill, but I honestly don't even recognize the violent, bigoted hillbilly you assholes pray to.

Anyway, I gotta clean up. Rosalynn'll be home soon and there are Slim Jim wrappers everywhere. But think about what I said, Mitt. You're going to lose this thing and lose it bad. And when you do, maybe try to learn a little from it, okay?

Jesus loves you. I may want to cock punch you myself, but He is good that way. He got me through that rabbit thing. He'll get me through this. And Tylenol will help.

Peace.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

A 2012 Election Message From Gordon Freeman


You probably already figured I'm an Obama guy, right? I mean, I'm a classic liberal academic. And there's no way I'm going to vote for a party that doesn't embrace evolution. You fight a dozen head crabs spilling out of a vent shaft, and then try believing in intelligent design. Also, Romney just creeps me out. The weird speech patterns... the way he looks so stiff in those suits. Reminds me of this colleague I don't get along with.

But none of this is the point. The point is even though Obama is a marginally better candidate I don't think anyone in this hoedown really represents my core issue. You know what it is?

Not dying.

It was going to be an ordinary day at my job, just going down to the test chamber to fart around with some anomalous materials, and then at 3 we'd all have cake for Steve's birthday. Let me say that again: We planned to have cake that day. You already know what happened instead. I learned a whole bunch more about human anatomy than I ever wanted to and Steve's birthday present was an airstrike on his cubicle. And you know why? Because some very smart people got cute with the laws of physics and did something stupid.

This is everybody's problem in modern America. Smart plus insanely complicated equals splat. Right now in some think tank or Pentagon office there's a guy drawing up a classified paper about how'd it be cool if we just swapped out the government of Iran with a bunch of friends of ours. The fact that this involves a nation of millions of citizens, a pile of squabbling political factions, and the entire violent, baffling balance of power in the Mideast doesn't bother the guy. No, no, see, because he's smart and he's got a plan. Wait, the Capitol's on fire now? Oh, crap, shoulda carried the one!

Shoulda carried the goddamn one. That's the story of US foreign policy right there.

And that's why so many of you out in the big cities feel exactly like I do. You kiss your wives and husbands goodbye in the morning, you get on that commuter train, and you idly wonder whether today is the day you're going to start working on your crowbar skills.

I want less cute and less splat in my life. You have a nation-building project in some country that's going to turn everyone into happy, non-violent Walmart shoppers? No way. You want to send money to a rebel group to stomp on another rebel group, and your intelligence is absolutely sure you know which are the good guys? Freeman is Unconvinced. Here, I'll just sign your check F.U. to make it clear.

I want people in power to be more cautious with our soldiers' lives, our civilians' lives, and the lives of ordinary people in faraway places just minding their own business who don't want to be shot in the face at a checkpoint because the 19 year-old kid with the assault rifle doesn't speak their language.

You people up there in the offices and situation rooms get this? Are we being heard here? We are ordinary people who work in ordinary jobs, and we don't actually want to go around rearranging the lives of folks who live thousands of miles from us. We want our government to be in the business of protecting us. And nothing more. We don't want to die for your stupid idea that seemed like it would work, back at the agency.

On any given day, on any given terrible day when we realized how you screwed things up? We all had other plans.
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