02.06.10
My Two Cents
I’m only guessing, but a major problem with being President has to be people around you being more likely to stick their face in a cast iron oscillating fan than tell you the truth. Let’s say you slip and fall and rip a hole in your pants down to your ankle while spilling hot coffee on a little blind girl in a wheelchair in front of a nationally televised audience. The worst you could expect to hear from a staffer is “well, that could have gone better.”
Therefore, I consider it my patriotic duty to offer up a little unsolicited advice intended for the President’s Eyes Only. Yo. Barack. Dude. You should totally chill. And listen up. Why? Cuz I can tell you the stuff that Mister Chaff of Staff Rahm Emanuel can’t. And I won’t go all ballistic on your butt or singe your receptionist’s eardrums either.
First thing. Don’t worry so much about the Republicans. They’re going to do what they’re going to do. You don’t even enter into the equation. Expect to be accused of everything. All the way from “done nothing at all” to “moved too quickly” and all permutations in between. At least you always know where these guys are coming from. From behind and in front and 16 different sides- throwing knives of negativity.
It’s your so- called friends you need to watch out for. The ones who smile and nod and laugh at your jokes to cover the slip of a shiv between your third and fourth ribs on the left side. Trust me, with friends like these, you don’t need Richard Shelby. Unfortunately, most of your buddies are Democrats. Which is a lot like saying most of a general’s fighting force is terra cotta. The difference being terra cotta soldiers don’t cut and run so fast they leave little puffs of cartoon smoke.
The second thing is, you need to develop an “or else.” Work with you, or what? Or Joe Biden sits next to you in the Congressional dining room and cuts your meat every day for a week? Lyndon Johnson plucked at the horsehair holding up the sword of Damocles for his “or else.” Walk the line or find yourself whisked back to your home district as a clerk in Park and Rec’s lost and found. His idea of compromise was letting you use his pen to sign your vow of allegiance.
Finally, your people have lost all sense of urgency. You got to fire somebody. You know- ax. Can. Dump. Sack. Pink slip. Terminate with extreme prejudice. Discharge. Unassign. 86. Downsize. Furlough. Ease out. Make redundant. Perform a bum’s rush. Give the boot. Hand someone their marching orders. Assist in an accelerated career development shift. Impose a synergy related headcount restructuring. Heave a ho.
It doesn’t matter who. Are you telling me in more than a year, nobody in the administration has made a mistake bad enough to be let go? Because if they haven’t, you have. If you can’t come up with an obvious target, pick someone out at random. You really want to put the fear of god into Team Obama, get rid of Michelle. Or one of the kids. That’s the best way of saying, “don’t anybody want to get too complacent.” Anyhow, that’s my advice. No thanks necessary, I’m here to help. First one’s free.
Will Durst is a San Francisco based political comic who writes sometimes. Of which this would be a glaring example. Check out his new one man show, “The Lieutenant Governor from the State of Confusion” appearing at the Rrazz Room every Monday in February. www.therrazzroom.com/ 222 Mason St/ San Francisco, CA 94102/ 415.781.0306
01.31.10
Obama, Year–One: A Report Card
When asked how he thought his first year as 44th President of the United States had proceeded, Barack Obama gave himself a B+. To say other parties have been less enthusiastic is like saying Tiger Woods is unlikely to receive the NOW Husband of the Year Award. Although the Divorce Lawyers of America might be coerced into throwing a testimonial or two.
Admittedly, there are three camps in the whole “How has Obama Done So Far?” debate. The right, which has been calling for impeachment since this time last year, Independents who consider every politician the enemy of the people and the left which can be seen wearing their disappointment like dented chain mail on returning Crusaders.
For those of you wishing to celebrate the occasion, may I mention that the traditional first year anniversary gift is paper. And a piece of photographic paper incriminating Republican Senator, Mitch McConnell, in sexual congress with a Kentucky thoroughbred would be most appropriate.
Granted, history will give the ultimate grade and you’d have to be a fool to judge an entire Presidency based on 12 months, but this particular fool thinks it's not only instructional but also a lot of fun to produce a quarter term report card, so here goes.
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English. B+. Good understanding of vocabulary words, and the ability to use them correctly. Nice having a President who when he speaks with a foreign leader, the other guy isn’t more eloquent in English as a Second Language.
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History. C+. Apparently wasn’t paying attention during Clinton Health Care instructional in 93. Looks like we’ll be forced to repeat this class every sixteen years. Geography. A+. Displays exceptional work habits. Visited more countries in first year than any other president in history. Most of that necessary to rebuild the bridges torched by a predecessor who shall remain nameless.
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Mathematics. Incomplete. Seems to be working with a malfunctioning abacus. Further review by Professors Bernanke and Geithner not expected to help much.
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African American Studies. B+. Has innate understanding of the subject.
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Semantics. B plus. Is a conscientious worker. No matter what you think of his policies, you have to admire his ability not to get involved in them.
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Business. C-. Needs to increase speed and comprehension. Tends to allow himself to be bullied by the louder students.
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Physics. C. Seems unable to grasp rudimentary concepts like how every action affecting Congress will have equal, opposite and totally disagreeable reaction.
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Creative Writing. A-. Exhibits enormous creativity. Sometimes gets carried away and confuses other students.
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Home Economics. C. Shows initiative; thinks things through for himself. Must come up with more encouraging phrase than “We’re losing jobs at a much slower pace.”
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Sex Education. B plus. No visible activity at all. Pleasant change for a Democrat. Helpful to have so many negative role models in Congressional ranks for comparison.
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Attendance. Satisfactory. However, whole school is beginning to suspect that the most dangerous place in Washington is between him and a camera.
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Physical Education. Exemplary. Photo of him emerging from Hawaiian surf set off beefcake war with Scott Brown.
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Penmanship. Satisfactory. Leaves very few fingerprints.
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Home Room Conduct. Cooperative. Polite. Plays well with others. Sometimes fails to stand up for himself.
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General Comments. Continues to grow in independence. Has problems accepting responsibility. Needs to work on leadership qualities.
Overall Grade. B-.
Will Durst is a San Francisco based political comic who writes sometimes.
Check out his new one man show, “The Lieutenant Governor from the State of Confusion” appearing at the Rrazz Room every Monday in February, located at 222 Mason St., San Francisco, CA 94102 415.781.0306
01.21.10
The Barack H. Obama 2010 State Of The Union Drinking Game!
What You Need To Play:
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4 taxpayers: 1 rich white guy banker type wearing a suit. (Bank Boy.)
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2 ordinary folks wearing jeans, 1 in a blue work shirt, the other in a white shirt, no tie, sleeves rolled up (the Jeans,) and
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1 person wearing clothes that look like they were involved in some sort of sewage treatment plant engagement ring retrieval operation. Belt and shoelaces safely secured (Rags.)
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1 living room with a large screen HDTV tuned to C-SPAN.
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1 shot glass per person. Everybody furnishes own, placing it on a coffee table in front of TV.
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Bank Boy gets first choice for use during game. White shirt picks next, then blue shirt. Bank Boy takes last shot glass as well, and Rags either rents it from him, finds a replacement or drinks out of own cupped hands.
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Everybody antes up 20 bucks. Cash. Except Bank Boy, who tosses in an I.O.U.
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2 cooked packages of Vienna Beef Chicago style hot dogs in middle of table with butter grilled buns and pickles and tomatoes and onions and condiments and that weird neon green relish on the side.
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1 bottle of bourbon.
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A large stash of beer in cans on ice.
Rags gets whatever is on sale, like Heileman’s Old Style Light.
Bank Boy gets whatever import he wants.
The Jeans get domestic, but must pay for all the beer, bourbon and hot dogs.
Rules Of The Game.
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Every time Barack H Obama says "Democratic leadership," the first person to stop laughing is exempt from drinking 3 shot glasses of beer.
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When the President says the State of the Union is good, but could be better, the last person to eat a fully accoutered hot dog has to drink 1 shot of bourbon.
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If either the Vice President or the Speaker of the House gets caught napping on camera, last person to sing the chorus from “Wake Up, Little Susie” has to drink 4 shots of beer. If Senator Robert Byrd ever appears awake, everybody has to drink 6 shots of beer.
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As soon as Mister Obama starts a defense of Cap & Trade, everybody must drink a whole beer then throw the empty can at the television. If anybody hits Harry Reid in the head, everyone else has to drink 3 shots of beer.
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Whenever Barack uses the phrase “economic stimulus package,” the last person to slap the side of his/ her forehead with a hot dog, has to drink 2 shot glasses of beer.
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If Obama speaks of how he sympathizes with the electorate's fundamental desire for "change," the last person to cough ?Hack!? must drink 3 shots of beer.
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Every time the Chief Executive winks and/ or points at Michelle, all four players swordfight with hot dogs. The last person with an intact weenie does not have to eat an entire shot glass full of that weird neon green relish.
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If the President relates a touching heartfelt story of some poor unfortunate denied health care, Rags gets to kick everybody else once. Twice, if the subject of the anecdote is in the audience. Three times, if he/ she is sitting next to an astronaut.
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Whenever Obama makes a reference to his faith getting him through tough times, last person to fall to their knees and shout “Hallelujah!” has to drink 1 shot of bourbon.
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The first time Barack H Obama mentions bipartisanship, the last person to pretend to faint has to drink 3 shots of beer.
Extras:
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Before the speech, everyone writes down who they think is giving the Republican Response. Anybody who correctly identifies the person doesn’t have to watch it.
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Bank Boy takes home all the money and the Jeans have to pay off his I.O.U..
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Leftover bourbon, beer and hot dogs go home with Rags after he/ she finishes washing the dishes.
Political Comic Will Durst writes sometimes. This is certainly one example.
Catch Durst in the premier of his new one man show “The Lieutenant Governor from the State of Confusion” as part of the Solo Mio festival at the Cinnabar Theater in Petaluma. www.cinnabartheater.org . 707.763.8920.
01.16.10
The Two Handed Wedgie
Just when you think we got enough to worry about, along comes a big old raging controversy over airports utilizing full body scanning machines that can see through fliers’ clothing all the way down to our naughty bits. Let me tell you where I stand on this brouhaha: I don’t care. Haha. In the whole modesty versus safety argument, you can count on me to crawl behind the Kevlar couch with the Safety First! crowd every time.
All because of the underpants bomber. Yes, the underpants bomber. And no, it’s not funny, but then again, yes, it is. Here’s my theory, if the bad guys are willing to shove bombs up their butts, you know what, we’re not going to win that war. Who can afford to pay the necessary costs to hire people to check for this? “More anal probes please.” Because when we do come up with a defense for explosive suppositories, the terrorists will just develop some sort of kim chee, 1000 year old egg, garlic- onion paste resulting in murderous bad breath.
Another point as dependable as Tofu Corn Dogs at a Berkeley street fair, is these attacks always produce a surfeit of feigned media outrage leading to an equally transparent government overreaction. Pilots now have the option of restricting passengers from using rest rooms for the first and last hours of the flight. Battling terrorism with toity deprivation. And you thought those middle coach seats were grotey before. Captains have also been instructed not to point out landmarks along the way. And no peeking out the windows either. That would be cheating. Destination announcements- a thing of the past. From now on, guess where you’re going.
Even though the fruit of the loom bomb didn’t go off, conservatives are still screaming it’s all Obama’s fault. And one thing that hasn’t changed with administrations is the Executive propensity for deflecting responsibility. Must be on page one of the White House primer they hand out with the keys to the front door. Raising an interesting question; do you get actual keys to the White House? And if so, did Obama go down to Ace Hardware to have spares made, or did he make the kids do it?
The official excuse reeked of recycling. “The information was there but nobody connected the dots.” Connected the dots? This guy paid $3000 for his ticket with cash, didn’t have a passport, flew sans checked baggage after the British tried to warn us and his own dad dropped a dime on him at the Nigerian embassy. Those aren’t dots. Those are day- glo beach balls the size of weather balloons filled with concrete.
Not to mention Mister Abdulmutallab was flying from Amsterdam to Detroit. C’mon, people, think about it, who voluntarily leaves Amsterdam to go to Detroit? In the dead of winter? Without a frequent flyer number? Everybody on that flight should have been suspicious and subjected to a body cavity search with a defective chain mail glove. Boarding and deplaning.
But like our lame response to the shoe bomber (putting smiles on the face of sock manufacturers everywhere,) it’s only a matter of time before the TSA refocuses on the new most dangerous airborne menace known to man: poo- poo undies. Going to be tough training 45,000 screeners in the speedy implementation of the dreaded two- handed wedgie. Aah, the TSA: you got to love them. Fighting today’s security threats with yesterday’s technology, tomorrow.
Will Durst is a San Francisco based political comic, who writes sometimes; this being a first-rate example.
Catch Durst in stand- up mode on the Places We Wouldn’t Mind Living if We Didn’t Live in San Francisco Tour, Friday, January 15th at The Kuumbwa Jazz Center in Santa Cruz; Saturday, January 16th, at The Center for the Arts in Grass Valley; and at Silo’s in Napa on Sunday the 17th. See the Appearance Schedule on Durst's website for more info:
And catch a fleeting glimpse of him on MSNBC’s Chris Mathews special “Obama’s America” on Monday January 18th.
01.08.10
2010 Predictions
All right, it was a hecka long holiday season. I'm tired and you're tired. And neither of us has the energy to go through the whole post- modern deconstructionist explanation as to why you're reading a predictions column here. Yes, I'm doing a predictions column. What's the matter with you people? It's the beginning of a new year. Hell, it's the beginning of a new decade. That's what journalists do: prediction columns. It's a festive tradition. Like mistletoe or Hopping John or calling hospital emergency rooms when Uncle Bud goes missing in the wee hours of Boxing Day. And no, I don't care that we're already deep enough into January that most of our resolutions lie broken on the calendar floor like branches of a discarded Noble fir on the shoulder of a logging camp approach road. C'mon people, what am I, flying solo here? Deal with it. Or don't. Because here they are: a list of predictions of what we can or should expect from various people during the 1st year of the second decade of the 21st century.
I Predict That In The Year 2010: