T_P_K

SPECIAL STUPID

THERE’S A SPECIAL KIND OF STUPID out there in “Merca,” and over the last four decades or so, it’s been allowed to proliferate quite unimpeded by other aspects of cultural society, especially by things like intelligence, wisdom, facts, and truth.

The current poster weenie for this affliction is National Rifle Association executive tool, Wayne LaPierre.

LaPi— Mmm. Wait.
Actually, the poster weenie for this affliction is NRA tool, Ted Nugent. But LaPierre is the suit that spouts the crazy at official NRA propaganda sessions. Recently he pointed out to a few Senators that tighter gun control laws aren’t needed— because criminals ignore laws.

“They’re criminals, they’re homicidal maniacs… we all know that homicidal maniacs, criminals, and the insane don’t abide by the law.”

Ah. So, since criminals don’t always follow laws, no new laws (regulation) would work— because criminals break laws— so laws won’t work— because criminals, by definition, break laws— so we shouldn’t resort to laws as a way of trying to regulate or restrain criminals, homicidal maniacs, or the insane, because, you know, laws break.

See?

Ironically, it’s a perfect example of what Right Wing Nut Jobs call “Special Stupid” — a peculiar and tortured logic maze created and justified by fear— and its shadow— hate. It’s simplistic and selfish, and a hypocritical way of negating everything Jesus ever said about loving your neighbor, one another, or, because, foreigners.

But like nearly everything in the lizard brain, the blazing irony of Special Stupid defies not just logic, love, fact, truth, and common sense, but even the most basic level of moral humanity— while assuming the very mantel of superior morality at the point of a gun and wrapped in an American Flag.

And it is this ongoing cultural conundrum of the cold dead values of the past, being inexorably and evermore forcefully supplanted by the progressive values of true brotherhood, which will occupy center stage of American politics until the battle is won. And it will not be won with bullets.

Wings To Die For

These are wing parts from chickens who died to make your Super Bowl great. Recipe below.

It’s just common sense, Homer: Don’t watch a bird team in the Super Bowl without eating some kind of wings. We prefer the wings of chickens, because they taste like chicken, and chicken is gooood. But don’t take any chances, get free range organic unless you have an early death wish; in which case you’ll probably be hitting the nearest KFC again anyway.

If you read this blog— and you should— then you already know that “beer is for pigs,” just like Steve Allen said. So be sentient and pick up a few inexpensive and excellent bottles of Rodney Strong Sonoma County Chardonnay and get it chilled. Drink that first glass during the first quarter; it’ll help relax you if your team didn’t show up.

Realize that you’ll be hungry before the second quarter; get some real chips, or make some yourself; Ima just assume you know how. And use them to scoop this delicious fresh stuff up and in:

Painless Pico*

Painless Pico

2 fresh limes
2 large ripe tomatoes, or 4 plum tomatoes
1 big jalapeno
1 big serrano
1/2 cup chopped Bermuda onion
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
(Don’t fuck it up by adding cucumber either— this is for the Super Bowl.)

Method

1. Seed the chilis if you want to taste the wine— and chop them into healthy chunks— this is for the Super Bowl, remember?
2. But why do people seed tomatoes? Eat those damned seeds! This is the Super Bowl! Chop the tomatoes. Did you wash them first?
3. Put the chilis, tomatoes, onion, and cilantro in a super bowl and sprinkle the salt over it.
4. Half the limes, and cut a cross halfway down each half, and squeeze every last drop of that amazing liquid over everything.
5. Stir, and let stand 3 seconds or less before serving yourself a giant chip full of this stuff.
Note: this is a single manly serving, for a man, watching an exciting Super Bowl. Do the math if you’re making pico for other men and women.

Wings To Die For

12 whole chicken wings or drummies, or you know, as many as you need
3 ounces organic butter
1 large clove garlic, minced
1/4 cup of your favorite hot sauce (We like Cholula)
A healthy tablespoon of Sambal Oelek (Super Bowl— this can be hot)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Method

Place a 6-quart saucepan with a steamer basket and 1-inch of water in the bottom, over high heat, cover and bring to a boil.
Remove the tips of the wings and discard.
Using kitchen shears, or a knife, a hatchet, anything sharp, separate the wings at the joint.
Place the wings into the steamer basket, cover, reduce the heat to medium and steam for 10 minutes.
Remove the wings from the basket and pat’em dry.
Lay the wings out on a cooling rack set in a half sheet pan lined with paper towels and place in the refrigerator for 1 hour. Do I have to tell you again— this is the Super Bowl?
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees, and if you’re cool, you’ll do it so the preheat timer goes off on the stove the same minute the hour in the fridge is up.
Replace the paper towels with parchment paper. Your wife will know what this is, and she may have some. But You could impress the hell out of everyone and bring some home with the other goodies, because you actually did the shopping.
Roast on the middle rack of the oven for 20 minutes. Turn the wings over and roast another 20 minutes— check the color at 10 minutes— or until meat is cooked through and the skin is a delicious golden brown.
While teh Wings be roastin’, melt the butter in a small bowl along with the garlic.
Pour this and the hot sauce and salt into a really super bowl, one large enough to hold all the bird parts, and stir it, stir it good.
Remove the parts from the oven and put’em in the bowl with the sauce. Shake it, dudes. Serve’m at halftime because, watch the game.
Optional petition: GO Falcons! Ravens! Cardinals! Seahawks! etc.**

* As in: Pico de gallo (literally, “Rooster’s Beak”)

**I always root for the team with wings, if there is one.

Cheap White Whines

I can only believe a bonafide tea-billy did the copy work here, what with half a dozen ugly typos on the back label alone.

WHO’S FULLABLUSTER?

Who’s fulla bluster?
(Original image)

WASHINGTON D.C. — The reprehensibility bad U. S. Senatorial comedy team of Mitch and Harry reprised one of their most popular routines this week, “Who’s Fullabluster?”

The “gag me with a filibuster” routine goes something like this: Harry tells Mitch about a genuinely good bill he wants to pass, and Mitch replies, “Tell me about it again.” Harry repeats the idea, but upon hearing it again, Mitch jumbles it into utter nonsense, and says there’s no way he’ll ever let it pass, and he’ll filibuster.

Harry says he’ll do it anyway, and announces to the public that he’ll even using the nuclear option if he has to. But Mitch says Harry is being unreasonable, calls him a bunch of names, and threatens to hold his breath until he “turns blue” and passes out; making Harry feel like a bully, irresponsible and embarrassed, and willing to compromise anyway Mitch wants him to, so poor Mitch won’t turn blue.

Like that’s ever going to happen.

Glenn Beck’s Independence, USA!

Frank Zappa called it “Centerville,” Homer Simpson calls it Springfield, Glenn Beck calls it “Independence.”

Insane Repugs We Have Known, UPDATE: The more things change, the more they are exactly the f*cking same

Here in no particular order, are some of our all-time favorite Insane Repugs, depicted in our favorite way:

Listen…

“If there’s even one step we can take to save one child, or one parent, or one town from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora and Oak Creek and Newtown and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that, then surely we have an obligation to try. “In the coming weeks, I’ll use whatever power this office holds to …