Hallmark It Ain’t

 
Bruiser was a unique creature, born with half a mind,
the son of Sheila the skunk and Paul the porcupine.
With stinky dispositions and shortsighted hearts of their own,
they expected he'd learn no different and prepared him for the blows

 
"If ever someone's down," they said, "Roll in for the prick."
They filled his trifling head with hatred and rhetoric.
"You can't ever trust anyone, so turn your misery into fun,
make believe it's clever to leave your stink on everyone.

 
Bruiser met Amy Butterfly beneath a park bench.
She fluttered hopelessly in the dust. He reveled in her pinch.
"Help me, please," she cried. "I think I broke a wing,
Hauling worms for birds all day. They've had a dreadful spring."

 
Bruiser stamped a foot, flipped his tail, and sprayed with all his worth.
"You're asking me, you crazy bug? I was privileged by birth."
Strutting a wide circle, he mocked her while she cried.
"Should've made wiser choices, let those squawking birds die."

 
"You ain't mine to keep," he said, lining up for the kill.
"Plan ahead next time." With that he poked her with a quill.
Amy caught her breath and rolled slowly to the side.
Finally, she gasped, and cried. "One thing I will not choose is to be like you.

Next . . . (More on Bush Adm. War Crimes)

 
 

 
Moving right along. Fallujah is down. Potential terrorists litter the streets in neat piles and the real fighters fled to other areas. We have successfully blocked the Iraqi Red Crescent's convoy of relief and guaranteed the survivors will not recover their missing limbs and grow into able suicide bombers. Mission accomplished.

 
Currently, dogs and cats assist in the clean up, dining on the bodies our liberated friends didn't have the decency to cross the blockades and bury. Halliburton will arrive soon to begin a one hundred eighty million dollar repair project, and we will install a new government, complete with a mayor, police chief, and thousands of police. Did I mention we may have shot down Satan in this raid and the real bonus is that nobody is paying attention to the election fraud in the United States?

 
Here at home, we are reminded there "haven't been many" civilian deaths in Iraq (latest estimate between fourteen and sixteen thousand) so we can move on to the war on Arlen Spector. Yes, another new war for the war president. A hostile group gathered to call Senator Spector a child killer and demand that the war president only endorse the killing of live babies in foreign lands, and prenatal killings if the mother is killed along with them in the name of liberation. Rabbi Vehuda Levin warned the war president he would not tolerate double standards; the people who gave him the mandate demand he uphold their particular version of killing values.

 
A tired activist demanded a litmus test in return for the six weeks he generously donated to the war president's campaign, and threatened the wrath of fifty thousands Catholics and millions of evangels who were on his side. Christian soldiers march on. Joseph Starrs claimed he spoke for the majority of the American people when he said Spector can't be trusted to kill only already born babies, but I suspect he failed to poll the majority.

 
No circus like this would be complete without an angry Jane LaRue, and a confused Mary Ann Kreitzer, to fuel emotion. No, they didn't suggest the group break to look at the latest flood of pictures of wounded Iraqi children. They would much rather refer to pictures of fetuses, which miraculously come with toe rings and tattoos at the six week stage. They repeated the same propaganda that has been debunked repeatedly. The war on truth rages on, even as we fight the wars on Afghanistan, Iraq, and Arlen Spector.

 
Don't forget, Rabbi Levin will not tolerate double standards.

 
While this group inks the final details on the roadmap to their litmus test, across the world we move on to secure Mosul. Security is so comforting in this troubled world.

 
Sandy Knauer, author of six published novels, bringing politics and social issues to fiction, and heart to political and social issue articles.

Morality and Liberals

 

First, hold on to your seats. I'm ready to admit that I believe the Bush team has succeeded at one thing. Not only that, it is an overwhelming success that has been tested and proven. They dumbed their base down to total cult mentality, and tested it by putting the dumbest of the pack in charge and watching the others praise him. Their dumbing down was genius. This truly is not morality, at least by my standards.

 
 

When the liberals made great strides toward ending the racial divide, the other side quickly enacted a socio-economic divide. When that stopped working in their favor, they organized a cult and turned it into a religious divide. Notice how they bloat their empty people with scripts that assume superiority (mention welfare and immediately they spout something about blacks and Hispanics, offer to help someone and they spew misinformation about their hard-earned tax pennies going to welfare moms), designed to put others in their place? That place where they tell their blind followers that liberals want to keep people in need?

 
 

Call them on their hypocrisy and they puke up a bible quote that supports bigotry and hatred. That is NOT morality.

 
 

The ironic, least sensitive but perhaps most creative, move on their part was including the 'dumbing down' portion of the script. Their obedient Christian soldiers chant the evils of dumbing down at the "intellectual elite," without realizing they've been duped. That is not morality.

 
 

Calling things as they are is not hatred, in my opinion. Calling a liar a liar, a killer a killer, a cheat a cheat, is moral, if your silence allows the liars, killers, and cheats to continue abusing others. Morality has nothing to do with political parties, religious organizations, or Christianity. It is what a person lives, regardless of those affiliations.

Sandy Knauer

Let Me Cry

 

 
 

Reality erases expectations

leaving a trail of broken truths

tears threaten internal drowning

if I don't release them soon

 
 

Doubt displaces security

uprooting years of peace

fear promises suffocation

unless I start to breathe

 
 

Frustration ousts comfort

tramples core beliefs

exhaustion finds my heart

bruises it with a squeeze

 
 

A single realization

tears my world apart

let me scream, cry, and grieve

embrace a new version of me

 
 

Sandy Knauer, 2005

 

 
 
 

I Can’t – 2005 Ode to Bush/Cheney Administration

I Can't 

 
 

I feel your pain

Cry your tears

Walk in your rain

But I can't release you

 
 

I pay your debt

Carry your guilt

Bury your dead

But I can't save you

 
 

I hear your prayers

Read your excuses

Watch your tracks

Live your lies

Slip in your blood

Watch my back

 
 

I can't forgive you

I wonder who will

 
 

Sandy Knauer 2005

 
 

Get Out

Get Out (previously posted on Gather)

 
I won't suggest that anyone who doesn't share my religion or political beliefs get out of my country. First of all, no other country deserves our broken citizens. More importantly, I haven't reached the point of delusion necessary to believe I am the boss of the country, nor do I don't subscribe to the Christian value system that promotes such hypocritical ranting.

Instead of asking them to leave, I'd like to make a proposal. If they agree to live by what they wish on others, I'll leave when they say the plan is working well enough for them that they want to keep it forever.
 
I wish them twelve-hour lines at the polls next election, and four-hour lines at their banks.

I wish them bank statements that are as accurate as the voting machines in Ohio and Florida.
 
I wish them a spouse with Tom Delay's integrity, Mitch McConnell's warmth, and Dick Cheney's sex appeal.

I wish them a false arrest, an attorney with George Bush's respect for the law, and a judge with Donald Rumsfeld's idea of fairness.
 
I wish them children who respect them as much as George Bush respects the truth.
 
I wish them the same drinking water the people in Iraq and Afghanistan are drinking today.
 
I wish them an angry, jobless, hungry, desperate next-door neighbor with an assault riffle and a George Bush attitude.
 
I wish them no health care plan, surgery with no anesthesia, and a shortage of despicable trial lawyers available to defile the system in their name.
 
I hope everyone they meet treats them with the same respect George Bush has for the constitution, and another year of life for every word of the constitution he can repeat with his eyes closed and no box on his back.

 I wish them everything they honestly believe George Bush wishes for the man holding the will work for food sign.
 
I wish them a post-op nurse with a Bush twin level of responsibility, sobriety, and compassion.
 
I wish them a face as beautiful as Barbara Bush's mind, and a daughter as beautiful as her face.
 
I wish them employees who work George Bush's schedule. On the mean side, I wish them a toothache every day he's on vacation and a migraine each time he lies.
 
I wish them the right to preach about their God, loudly, in public, as long as they agree to accept a sleepless night each time their actions or thoughts defy what he is supposed to represent.
 
I wish them joy in posting those commandments that they can't seem to remember or obey, as soon as they stop killing people in my name so they won't look like hypocrites.
 
I wish them a long, all expenses paid vacation at Abu Graib.
 
Something tells me I'll hear from some very confused people who think I'm cruel.
 
Sandy Knauer



 

Aunt Jackie’s Gift

 



Aunt Jackie was the most thoughtful gift giver. She decided what would be the perfect gift for each person and set out to find that exact thing. Once, Jessica complained that stuffed animals were ridiculous because they were all pastel colors instead of the actual colors of animals. That Christmas, Aunt Jackie searched (this was before internet and Google) until she found a brown and black striped stuffed cat for her Christmas gift that year. Jessica returned the favor by naming her gift Methane, since Aunt Jackie was a chemist whose real cats were all named after chemicals. 

On Briana's second Christmas, Aunt Jackie apologized ahead of time. She wasn't sure what to get her and was so worried she hadn't guessed correctly. I felt sad for her because Briana was too young to really care much either way. It ended up being a wonderful experience for Aunt Jackie and everyone who observed.

Briana was happy about 99% of the time. She was happy 100% of the time that she was tearing into a package, no matter what was inside. Odds were definitely on Aunt Jackie's side.

 The gift-distributor called Briana's name and she got excited. He handed her the package and she beamed as she tore in. When she had uncovered the box that contained the dancing dog, someone took it from her, wound it up, and placed it on the floor. She squealed, put her little hands on her face, jumped up and down, laughed, squealed and laughed some more, and was so uncontrollably delighted that everyone in the room was in tears – especially Aunt Jackie.


Even the little kids weren't overly anxious to move on (we open one gift at a time in our family). Dancing doggie went through several rewinds before Briana's excitement showed any sign of waning. 

She did open other gifts that night but promptly put them aside to return to her dancing dog. So, even when Aunt Jackie was unsure what to get, she still found the perfect gift.