Those Sour Grapes Will Make a Lovely Whine

In which your humble narrator pummels the body politic with his mad metaphorical skills.

I don't usually get all blog-politicky but certain events have transpired which call for three minor points to be made.

1. The Health Care bill passed. This means that my uninsured, pre-existing conditioned Mom will be able to purchase insurance again. This means that the 8.7% of my brain that is in charge of worrying about Mom being hit by a truck full of organ thieves and having tens of thousands of dollars in unpayable medical bills can now be reassigned to worrying about zombies, tornadoes and Peter Fonda.
2. For my Republican friends (and you, Grandma): It's not actually a subversion of democracy when congressional majorities pass legislation which is then signed by a president who won a clear majority of votes. When your side wins you get to start wars and send free platinum toilets to bank executives and stuff. When we win we get to do stuff too. 
3. I look absolutely smashing in the official socialist paradise jumpsuit that the neighborhood commisar delivered to the house yesterday. Long live the Apparatus of State!

Do you remember that one kid in the neighborhood when you were growing up that nobody wanted to play with because he was constantly changing the rules? If you were playing basketball and you made a shot, it didn't count because that kid would immediately call a foul or invent a rule that said nothing that touched the rim counted for a point or maybe that you were actually playing lacrosse and by making the basket you just earned -43 points. But if that kid had the ball, you weren't allowed to defend the basket because he just remembered that playing defense contravenes the Basketball Convention of 1896. So you were supposed to just lie down on the ground and let that kid take as many shots as he wanted.

That kid is now a Republican member of Congress.

Peter Fonda Freaks me Out

In which your humble narrator describes his anxiety regarding acting family scion, Peter Fonda.

Peter Fonda freaks me out. So I usually avoid him. Except I can't for two reasons. First, he's on this creepy baby-boomer infomercial all the time hawking a TimeLife collection of hippie music that's on in the middle of the night. What with having a baby and being prone to occasional insomnia and not having cable, I run into "Flower Power" after the midnight hour.*

Notice that his arms appear to be paralyzed. His torso is strangely motionless. Also I suspect he's heavily medicated.

Second, Child #1 has this creepy Thomas the Tank Engine movie called "Thomas and the Magic Railroad," which is a weird mash-up of regular old British-style Thomas stories with the PBS series "Shining Time Station," (where Thomas first appeared in the states) with a bizarre subplot about a magic railroad and some magic gold dust thrown in to make it more confusing. The movie features: Alec Baldwin, Didi Conn, Russell Means, and the (again) apparently heavily medicated Peter Fonda. Actually, the whole cast may have been medicated. If I tried to explain the plot, gentle reader, you might think I was heavily medicated.

Fortunately, this movie isn't usually in heavy rotation on Child #1's playlist, but someone seems to have gotten it out a couple of days ago.

For additional evidence of Peter Fonda's creepiness, please see:

• brother of Jane Fonda
• Easy Rider
• Voicing the aging hippie character in a Grand Theft Auto game
• Escape from L.A. (with the comparably creepy Kurt Russell)

*This makes me glower and feel dour for at least an hour.