HAD ENOUGH?

If I make it to Heaven, I expect to see a sign: “Swing state resident? Enter here!”

And then St. Peter to add: “And a double Senate runoff? You’re in God’s foursome tomorrow”.

The midterms are Tuesday, and one thing our polarized nation can agree on is they can’t happen soon enough.

Based upon the barrage of attack ads over the past months, it is clear whoever wins isn’t qualified, and probably should be in prison.

Once again proving what my Father told me: “If they’re willing to run, we don’t want them”

I voted early, but just learned if I voted for the wrong candidates, it will be the end of America. I’ve postponed my mortgage payment just in case.

While most of us believe the original settlers fled England to avoid religious persecution, it was political advertising that drove them to the U.S.

Accounts abound of men wearing sandwich boards bearing political ads:

Let witches control their own bodies and burn themselves, keep the government out of it;

Remove Shakespeare from school libraries!

Secure the border with Ireland – no more Guiness breathers!

For years after their arrival, the Pilgrims banned political advertising, settling elections by:

Choosing candidates who floated when thrown in the lake – touching off the “no representation” era;

Electing the office seeker who promised a “turkey in every pot”, and who wasn’t Catholic.  

Picking the candidate who gave them money or promised them jobs – the basis for today’s elections.

But over time, political advertising reemerged, and eventually became the toxic soup we are fed today.

For the retired, the best hour of the day is Wheel of Fortune followed by Jeopardy, allowing 2 chances to wake up and ask “Who won?”

But that hour has been ruined – as part of ‘local access’ it is dominated by political ads.

Ads which are 136% negative; yes, by talking fast, extra negatives can be packed into :30.

I did see a positive ad, it was swiftly labeled ‘disinformation’ by the FCC and pulled from the air.

We also get glossy mailers from each candidate, which surprisingly are very negative, most featuring their opponent’s mug shots from their recent arrests.

There might be hope: Our local Senate opponents are sending a joint ‘DIY mailer’ to save money and reduce mail overload; the name and key details are left blank and voters fill in the candidate they’d like to disparage (or hate less), with their most negative attacks.

Consistent with past practice, the savings will be donated to their family members.

Reading the polls, which are more plentiful than attack ads, can be a full-time hobby.

And despite the fact that they’re always wrong, I believe them!

I recently learned that:

76% of election deniers prefer meatloaf with mashed potatoes;

53% believe “something must be done” about the ‘old person smell’ in the Senate;

83% agree that 81% of statistics are made up on the spot.

And the debates aren’t helpful, essentially providing the opportunity to deliver attack ads live.

But another opportunity to wake up and ask “Who won?”

So, had enough?  

The good news? After Tuesday, our lives will be much better.

At least that’s what I heard in a recent ad.  

But I plan to follow my Dad’s helpful life advice: “Expect to get screwed, you’ll never be disappointed”.

And go to bed early on election night, most state’s results won’t be available until mid-December.

Waking Wednesday morning and asking “Who won?”

The parties do agree on one thing:

In a new poll, 100% of candidates said “Heads I win, tails you cheated”.

For 131 more posts like this –each with a mute button – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

Or, at the site, leave a comment on this post, and then check the box that says “Please notify me of future posts” and you will be sent the newest Sunday update automatically.  

Easier yet, when you read a post, after 15 seconds you’ll be given the chance to become a subscriber: Life gets better and better!

Or just forward this to everyone you know. Forward it to those you aren’t fond of twice.

TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:

Election Year Rag  Steve Goodman

Come on babe, won’t you take a chance,
Your papa’s gonna show you a brand new dance,
You shuffle on down, now don’t you be no drag
And do that Election Year Rag.

You take two steps to the left and two steps to the right,
Then just land in the middle and you hang on tight.
Come on down now, don’t feel mad,
You can do that Election Year Rag.

Jump on that old bandwagon,
Here’s what you gonna do:
Go down to the Precinct Captain’s house this morning
And scarf up some lame duck stew.

Well, don’t you cry, don’t shed no tears,
You know it only comes around every four years,
And I am your dark horse and you’re my nag,
Do that Election Year Rag.

If you feel like you need a score card,
Well, you really don’t have to fuss.
You know the winner’s always somebody else
And the loser is always us.

And it’s shake it to the East, shake it to the West,
Hand me down my bullet-proof vest.
It’s nobody’s choice and it’s anybody’s guess
And do that Election –

There ain’t no selection,
And do that Election Year Rag

Everybody’s Crying Mercy Elvis Costello (written by Mose Allison)

I can’t believe the things I’m seeing
I wonder ’bout some things I’ve heard

Everybody’s Crying Mercy
When they don’t know the meaning of the word

A bad enough situation
It’s sure enough getting worse

Everybody’s Crying Justice
Just as long as it’s business first

Toe to toe
Touch and go
Give a cheer
Get your souvenir

People running ’round in circles
Don’t know what they’re headed for

Everybody’s Crying Peace on Earth
Just as soon as we win this war

Straight ahead
Knock ’em dead
Pack your kit
Choose your hypocrite

Well you don’t have to go to off-Broadway
To see something plain absurd

Everybody’s Crying Mercy
When they don’t know the meaning of the word

Nobody knows the meaning of the word

Former Owner (keeps the keys)  Del Amitri

 … So who was first?
Obviously not me
She’s locked up inside herself and I can’t get anything free
So, won’t somebody tell me please

… Why the former owner always keeps the keys

… There’s no bubbles to burst
No bursting out crying nor dying of thirst
She’s utterly tied to somebody else
And it seems he got there first

… And no, I’m not untying
The reins around her neck that she feels
And I won’t try to prize out of her the truth anymore
When she lies about the things that she sees

… Because the former owner always keeps the keys

… There’s no calling
“Come here, you’re necessary to me”
There’s no excitement in her face when I implore
“Corrupt me and confess to me some more”
And when we hear trees falling or see people disappearing
Her emotions won’t be reached or released

… Because the former owner is (keeping the keys) keeping the keys

… Like a ticket inspector running for a bus
Irony’s revenge surrounds us
And it’s ironic that he promised you he’d never let you go
When he’s left you, used-up and disturbed
And I said “Just as the early bird catches the worm
The early cat catches the bird”

… But that former owner is keeping his word

… Keeping his word

Lenders in the temple  Conor Oberst

A short delay, the parrot blues
Little voices mimic you
It’s not so hard to make that sound
So watch your back, the Ides of March
Cut your hair like Joan of Arc
Disguise your will, they’ll find you out
And when they do, look out

There’s money lenders inside the temple
That circus tiger’s going to break your heart
Something so wild turned into paper
If I loved you, well that’s my fault

A bitch in heat, the alpha male
Not something she’d ever tell
Except when she got deathly high
And out it came like summer rain
It washed the cars and everything
Felt clean for just a little while
A telethon we drunk dialed

Those starving children, they ain’t got no mother
There’s pink flamingos living in the mall
I’d give a fortune to your infomercial
If somebody would just take my call
Take my call

Hello, patterns in my mind now moving slow
Sorrow all across the surface rolls
Smoothing out the edges of the stone
The lights are out, where’d everybody go?
Alone

Erase yourself and you’ll be free
Mandala destroyed by the sea
All we are is colored sand
So pay to ride the ferris wheel
Smile, all that you can feel
Is gratitude for what has been
Because it did not happen

There’s money lenders inside the temple
That circus tiger’s going to break my heart
Something so wild turned into paper
If you love me, then that’s your fault

There’s money lenders inside the temple
This crystal city’s going to fall apart
When all their power turns into vapor
If I miss you, well that’s my fault

Political Science  Randy Newman

No one likes us
I don’t know why
We may not be perfect
But heaven knows we try
But all around
Even our old friends put us down
Let’s drop the big one
And see what happens

We give them money
But are they grateful
No, they’re spiteful
And they’re hateful
They don’t respect us
So let’s surprise them
We’ll drop the big one
And pulverize them

Asia’s crowded
And Europe’s too old
Africa’s far too hot
And Canada’s too cold
And South America stole our name
Let’s drop the big one
There’ll be no one left to blame us

We’ll save Australia
Don’t want to hurt no kangaroo
We’ll build an all American amusement park there
They’ve got surfing, too

Boom goes London
And boom Paris
More room for you
And more room for me
And every city the whole world round
Will just be another American town
Oh, how peaceful it’ll be
We’ll set everybody free
You’ll have Japanese kimonos, baby
There’ll be Italian shoes for me
They all hate us anyhow
So let’s drop the big one now
Let’s drop the big one now

Mayor of Simpleton  XTC

Never been near a university, never took a paper or a learned degree,
And some of your friends think that’s stupid of me,
But it’s nothing that I care about.
Well I don’t know how to tell the weight of the sun, and of
Mathematics well I want none, and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one things and that’s I love you.
When their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
I can’t have been there when brains were handed round
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
Or get past the cover of your books profound
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
And some of your friends thinks it’s really unsound
That you’re ever seen talking to me.
Well I don’t know how to write a big hit song, and all crossword
Puzzles well I just shun,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing and that’s I love you.
I’m not proud of the fact that I never learned much,
Just feel I should say, what you get is all real,
I can’t put on an act, it takes brains to do that anyway.
(And anyway…)
And I can’t unravel riddles problems and puns,
How the home computer has me on the run,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing and that’s I love you (I love you).
If depth of feeling is a currency
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
Then I’m the man who grew the money tree
(No chain of office and no hope of getting one),
Some of your friends are too brainy to see that they’re paupers
And that’s how they’ll stay.
Well I don’t know how many pounds make up a ton of all the Nobel
Prizes that I’ve never won, and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one things and that’s I love you.
When all logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor.
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton.)