by Ripley
I know a lot of you were probably sitting there in your computerizing chairs, thinking, "Hey! When is Rip gonna lay another righteous smackdown on some unsuspecting motherfucker who caught his eye and pissed him off for a day or so?" And possibly also thinking, "Hey! Isn't Rip supposed to be helping his ailing Mother, who's ailing and what not?"
Well, now you can!
Mother Ripley (88) suffered a mild stroke in October. Ten days ago, she showed some of the same cognitive dysfunction and incoherence that previewed her recent stroke, so we admitted her to the hospital and now she's in a nursing home. That's that. We take over the responsibilities that our parents had for us and we do what we can to keep them safe and happy as their suns set. Which leads me to the point of this post.
I live in a small town in Iowa. Good schools, safe community, friendly and helpful neighbors, unlocked doors, what have you. Father and Mother Ripley raised us all with at least one handful of morals, to say the least. We've gone on to do our respective things, and now I'm back in Odin's Country, watching my mother, and so many of her generation, wilt away, if you will. Again, this is what we do, as we grow older.
But...
(I know Thers didn't intend this site to be a pixelated bordello for airing personal grievances, but bear with me.)
Some of you may know that I was working with the local Dems to elect some State candidates. One of our candidates was challenging an Iowa State Senator. An Iowa State Senator whose father held the seat before him. An Iowa State Senator who - I am not making this up, kids - called government employees who receive State penions.... bottom feeders.
Bottom feeders...
A man who works 4 months a year for the State - making "rules" and directing funds, at his whim - and receives a State salary and State pension for his ruling and whimsy-ings, called State employees "bottom feeders". Because they... I don't know - had the audacity to work for the common good and hope the State might give them some recompense? To bust their knuckles and their asses, to spend all night on the road when the snow hits, to build a better Iowa with their brains and brawn, to take a god damned job and suck it up and stick with it for a decade or two and hope the State might remember them? And maybe remember them well, even when they're all spread from Hell to breakfast when they retire?
See, now I'm just fucking pissed off, so let me quote my friend, Humboldt Blue, who gang-ranted these assholes better than I can come up with, at the moment.
These shitsacks, who make usury a way of life have the unmitigated gall to talk about morals? These scabrous con men with their ponzi schemes, their mutual back scratching, their payola we call campaign finance have the sheer audacity to lecture us on what ethical, moral behavior is?
It’s like listening to Ted Haggard bemoan how hard it is to not to want to suck cock because Jesus wants him to eat pussy.
Yeah, that's what I was about to say. But back to Mother Ripley.
Y'see, Mother Ripley receives an IPERS check because she was a County employee. A damned fine and highly repsected County employee, who did more good in the world and for the world than most people could bother reading about. And the IPERS check is Iowa's way of saying, "Thanks for the work! We believe you're a human being with potential financial needs in your future. Did we say Thanks! ?"
And this... this fucking Republican piece of shit who sidled his way into a State Senate seat, humping his Daddy's friends' legs and fucking his own neighbors sans Vaseline... Well, that's just it, isn't it? He lost his race, btw and thank Zeus. But it's the last 30 god damned years of "fuck the working man" on a half shell. And still they're not satisfied.
Good folks like my parents get "American Dreams" and oopsie doodles! and the short fucking end of the stick. Good folks like you, too. They'll bail out the dipshits at the top because "we can't lost our talent" - even though their talent sort of... kinda maybe.. a little bit.. pooooosibly made the decisions that sort of... kinda maybe... a little bit... poooosibly made the banks fail. Do over! Amirite? Fucking right I'm right.
Again, Thers' place isn't my personal rant space, I apologize. I have my own pixels to murder when I'm feeling groovy. But this - it isn't about Mother Ripley. It's about the assholes - the FUCKING ASSHOLES - who stand up and put us down. The wannabe celebrities in the Gov't who think that a lapel pin is more important than my mother. More important than Your mother or father or sister or brother. More important than your health, your job, your... your version of the American fucking Dream.
And still they're not satisfied. America stood up and said "No More!" But they're not satisfied. I don't know - the rich aren't rich enough? The poor aren't poor enough? Too many children have health insurance? Too many non-white folks doing... non-white-rich-guy stuff?
Fuck. Them. All.
This is our time to make the world a better place. We don't need bibles or wrist bands or... well, shit - we don't need anything to prove we're right, because we are right. We are. You know it and you can feel it in your damned bones, big or skinny as they may be. We are right. (Also, we are strong. No one can tell us we're wrong.)
I'm pretty sure Mother Ripley never voted Democratic. But she healed everybody and every body that came through her unit - white, black, Republican, Democrat, gay or straight, and then some. And, given the chance, she'd heal that ex-Senator.
I know this guy, the ex-Senator. Nothing would make me happier than to drag him by the neck into my mother's room and ask him if she's a bottom feeder. Well, if my sisters were there, it might be more fun.
[Oh, I give up on the formatting. Fuck!]
It's our turn, kids.
Rip -