Last night I may or may not have delivered a soliloquy on the word “vulva” to my husband while he was trying to read. That’s what it’s like to be married to me. I’ll make you chocolate whiskey pots de creme on a weeknight, but you might have to endure my monologues (aka rants) on occasion. I hope the trade-off in chocolate and other delicious foodstuffs is worth it.
Hooooooo boy. Lookout. I am in the lather of a righteous rage and ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me now. You’ll have to imagine this entire post in my best Southern drawl, because the accent which is usually barely perceptible really comes out when I’m mad. Heeeere we goooo.
Jezebel.com has a new guest blogger (though she’s contributed before), Latoya Peterson usually of the blog Racialicious. And she had a post this mornin’ that really has me fired up. She started out with the video of an embarrassing woman from Arkansas, even more embarrassing, because that’s my home state. This woman got all weepy at a town hall meeting about health care and said she was “scared” about what “my America” is “being turned into.” YOUR AMERICA???
Then Latoya mentioned the story of a twelve year old who died because of a toothache.
A routine, $80 tooth extraction might have saved him.
If his mother had been insured.
If his family had not lost its Medicaid.
If Medicaid dentists weren’t so hard to find.
If his mother hadn’t been focused on getting a dentist for his brother, who had six rotted teeth.
By the time Deamonte’s own aching tooth got any attention, the bacteria from the abscess had spread to his brain, doctors said. After two operations and more than six weeks of hospital care, the Prince George’s County boy died.
And this tragedy happened in MY AMERICA.
Let me tell you something about MY America.
It is the land of the free, home of the brave. It is one nation under God, a God who cares for the least and the lost, who sides with the oppressed over the powerful, the poor over the wealthy, the weak over the strong.
It was founded by a religious minority who created a commonwealth. A COMMON-WEALTH. A place where everyone gives up a little so that everyone can be better off. A place where people come together and take care of one another, be that a Little House on the Prairie-style barnraising, or a public health care option where we all share risks and costs so that we all might be healthy.
It is a place that holds certain truths to be self-evident. A place where all are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. A place where, among these, are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. What are life and happiness without HEALTH?
It is a place that was founded by We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity. Is not the general welfare the general HEALTH CARE?
It is a place with liberty and justice for all. What is justice without social justice?
It is a place that is to be a shining city upon a hill. Right now this light is dimmed by the incredible injustice of our healthcare system.
In my America, children should not go hungry, families should not have to choose between paying for healthcare and food, families should not face losing their homes or delcaring bankruptcy because of the cost of healthcare. In my America, healthcare should not be a luxury available only to those fortunate enough to be wealthy or have employers who provide them with coverage. In my America, paper pushers concerned with profit margins would not be able to deny people who had paid all their premiums the care they need, right when they need it most. It is not a place where some people are “uninsurable.” It is not a place where 47 million people don’t have any health coverage at all. It is not a place where the price of a procedure or a prescription depends on who’s asking.
That’s MY America. And if that America doesn’t look like yours, I’d like to ask you to please open your eyes and look around, and maybe even look inside your own heart. We must do something.
So, not having TV, and not particularly caring, I missed the newest offering from the dudes who brought us “Dick in a
Box” and “Jizz in my Pants.” Apparently it’s called “I’m on a Boat.” Apparently their song titles only ever have four words? Anyway, I just watched it, and I have new reason to hate it after this morning. First, watch the video here (they’re jerks and won’t let me embed it directly into my post, also, language warnings for readers prone to the vapors).
They sing:
I got my swim trunks, and my flippy-floppies, you at Kinkos straight flippin’ copies.
Only for me it’s more like:
You got your swim trunks, and your flippy-floppies? I’m on tha bus, straight flippin’ you off.
One of the problems of living in a coastal tourist town is that I have to cross a river to get to work. And that river is connected to the ocean. And that river is full of marinas where rich folks keep their yachts. And on some mornings, those rich folks make hundreds of people late to work because the bridge has to be opened up for them to take their boats out to sea. That’s what happened this morning.
First, I missed my usual bus. No big deal, I’ll only be about 15 minutes late if I take the next one, and no one at the office really cares if I don’t arrive straight up at 9. That was until some m*****f***** on a boat, as the song goes, some Andy Samberg wannabe, decided it was time to be “straight flowin on a boat on the deep blue sea.” We had no choice but to look at the m******f****** boat, because all traffic came to a complete standstill in the middle of RUSH HOUR.
This wouldn’t have been so bad had the bridge not gotten stuck in the open position. So by the time the JERKS on the BOAT were “bustin 5 knots” we were decidedly NOT moving. We sat there, on the bus, for 45 minutes. Just sitting, probably all getting infected with Swine Flu thanks to the three folks sneezing their heads off (gee thanks, Joe Biden, for making me paranoid about riding the bus!). By the time we finally got moving again, I ended up an hour late to work.
Seems like they shouldn’t be allowed to open the bridge except between 10 and 3, and after 6. Then, no one would be late going or coming from work just so T-Pain can f*** a mermaid.
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