The Boys On Hardball

Chris Matthews, right now, is turning our presidential primary campaign into a boxing match. Every description of the most recent democratic debate is turned into some trivia drivel about boxing matches of all the late great match-ups from boxing's history. Apperantly if you don't know your boxing history you can't talk on Chris's show. Kind of leaves the female commentators knocked-out of the conversation. Kind of makes me want to say, "Screw You, Chris!" one more time. I have had a hate/hate relationship with Mr. Matthews for a long, long time.

He was on The Colbert Report the other night and nearly made my heart stop. Colbert asked him if the rumors were true about Matthews making a run for Arlen Spector's seat in the Senate. Chris got all moony and serious. His face softened like a young girls, his eyes glistened with such love, such deep adoration and reverence for......himself, I started dancing. This can only mean one thing. For at least as long as Chris is running for a Senate seat we'll will only have to endure him as a candidate. Hopefully Rachel Maddow on the new show in his time slot called Real Women, will treat him as he has treated guests past. She will ask him a question and just as he starts to speak, she will all but tell him to shut up! Then insist that he answer the question! He will open his mouth to suck in air to speak again, and she will cut him off and then ask Eugene what he thinks of Mr Matthew's inability to answer a simple, straight forward question truthfully, implying that Mr Matthews is indeed stupid and not qualified to be dog catcher.

Quaint Customs and Family Values

Utah is a strange place. And since the Pligs are making such great news and causing such controversy and consternation amongst the various cable news personalities, I thought this might be a good time to weight in with my unique perspective. I get to call my perspective unique because I actually have some first hand knowledge of some real Pligs.

Remember April? Not the month, but the youngest child of a Plig family here in Zion. Trying to sort out the history of polygamist families is damn near impossible—everyone is related to everyone else, when you start looking into their past histories—so I’ll just stick to the current history of the members of this particular family. And “I know” means, have met, sat around a diner table with, and (in some cases) have been and (in some cases) am still friends with. If you think that last sentence is confusing and convoluted, you don’t know a Plig family or have Plig friends.

But before we get to April’s family, I’d like to go on record as being in favor of having all the 400 plus children from the Texas compound who have been placed in protective custody, kept in protective custody. None of those kid’s, if released back into their “families” custody, is going to be safe. Children serve several purposes in Plig society—they are potential breeders (that means when the girls start menstruating they are ready to be married off to some old coot with several other wives—since I started my period at eleven, if I had been a Plig child, I could have been married and cranking out babies at eleven). The boys and the girls not of breeding age are child laborers. They clean the houses, prepare the food, work in the fields, etc. Once boys get to the age when they are interested in girls and such, they are mostly expelled from the colony. These are called the Lost Boys. Salt Lake has lots of Lost Boys.

Now, if you have been watching any of the news coverage of this “situation” you might have seen the “mothers” pleading for the return of their children. “We love our children,” is the answer to any and all questions regarding the safety of these children. When pressed about the age at which it is appropriate for these children to start breeding, the “mothers” change the subject back to “We love our children.” And have you noticed the lack of affect in these “mothers?” They all look lobotomized to me.

I was going to tell you more of April's families history, but I’ve run out of steam. I was going to clean my house today, but that too shall have to wait. This fibrillation thingy is exhausting.

Today Is Starting Out To Be Excellent

Thank you, Liberality.