TV News LIES

Georgia's not been herself lately.  Could be from hitting 280, being born way back in 1732, last of the lucky 13 colonies to get going.  Georgia lately seems liable to put reading glasses in the 'fridge, and the milk jug into the oven.  Haven't seen the cat lately, but the clock's in the catbox, and the newspaper's right here, in the microwave. Hmmm. Something's not right.

Of course, there are all sorts of reasons events might seem inexplicable to someone not acclimated and acculturated to the art of goings-on in the peanuts-pecans-and-peaches state. Some things defy the ordinary belief that we all have our own peculiar ways of doing this and that, and that one should make some allowances for that.  Here's one comes to mind:

Stop making sense with Republicans:  Studies are showing you're just wasting your time, trying to be reasonable with this group of humanoids in our family, all the while hoping facts will illuminate the path, facts will help turn the corner, facts will help reveal the righteous path we all need to walk.

Ain't gonna happen. Clouds won't be parting, there will be no shafts of penetrating sunlight appearing on non-fact-believer foreheads, no sudden appearance of brightening light bulbs overhead, no swirls of St. Elmo's Fire ambling through to expose Republican minds to instantaneous and thunderstruck activation.

Ah idiocy. All encouraged by the popular culture vultures.

You can call it what you want. The Universal Creative Force or whatever. Words are powerful but they're just pointers. If you want to call it God fine, but that usually carries a lot of sneaky baggage so I'd be real careful with that one. A programmed belief is attached to that word in the collective subconscious like a 4th dimensional virus and not many have the firewall good enough for full protection.

Each day tops the one before it.  Each day takes the cake -- so much cake, the day-old rack is left abandoned and lonely, only cobwebs for company.  Takes a lot of calories, blowing out those industrial-strength cobwebs, getting the national priorities all straightened around.  Must have taken a ton of calories, telling us all once, and telling us all still, just go shopping -- shut up, go eat, let them have cake.

Here comes a hot loaf now, right from a Yemeni island kitchen, set up for our troops, or, so says the wrapper: Baked up nice and fresh!  Have a nice day! Uncle Sam's Bakery's not pulling up stakes anytime soon.  Looks like we'll always be able to have our cake and eat it, too.

The timing is impeccable:  Tonight's GOP debate is the 26th such frightful encounter; Edvard Munch's "The Scream," a portrayal of fright, is to be offered, it was said today.

This is one of our most recognizable human-made images on the planet -- the chilling figure in the foreground, hands up to head, mouth forming an elongated O, background swirls in blue and red.

The U.S. is trying to maintain a perfectly reasonable occupation by force of arms in some countries that really interest us a lot, and the people won't stop hating us -- why was it, again? Oh, right:  They hate us for our freedoms, according to the junior Bush.  Pays to keep track.

Has nothing to do with our routine treatment of the native population in all these places we go and so actively adore, spots we must absolutely have as our own -- nothing to do with the regular interactions we have with the people we find already there, at home, in all these places that catch our corporeal and corporate fancy.