There’s a few thing in the hopper, and if Amtrack has any Wifi I’ll try to keep up on the road.
Be good, Scissorheads, and don’t break the Internet while I’m gone!
Travel day, so light posting ahead. I’ll catch-up on the flip side.
I’m over at Crooks and Liars this week doing the Mike’s Blog Round-Up, so if you have a post you are particularly proud of, or read a post somewhere you really like (especially if it is from a small blog that deserves more traffic), send me a tip here at the ol’ Thunderbolt Grease-slapper (Tengrain AT mockpaperscissors DOT com) or there MBRU AT crooksandliars DOT com. Please put something about MBRU in the subject line.
Scissorheads are the best sources of links in the Universe, both known and unknown. The Quantum Mechanics of snark, as it were.
“…forgets a lady’s birthday, and he absolutely never remembers her age.”
I suppose I am a momma’s boy—I think most men are—but in my defense, my mother was exceptional. She was a tomboy that taught us how to belch at will and spit watermelon seeds for distance and accuracy, and she also taught us Emily Post-style manners. When I was bullied, she taught me how to throw a punch (guard with your right, lead with your left use your shoulder), and how to apologize (don’t make excuses, make amends). She was a master strategist in our water fights (take the high ground, defend the entrances!), and didn’t blink an eye when my brother brought the garden hose into the house.
As an only child, she liked her alone time, but she liked having all of us running around making noise and being kids. She knew the house would be clean and silence would return someday, but that we should enjoy today, well, today. After all, there are water balloons to consider, and your sister is such a good target…
Happy birthday, Mom; I wish you were still with us.
Each year, I am reminded of how this little blog spins along, new Scissorheads joining us in suffering the outrageous slings and arrows of modern life (to paraphrase someone other than Brother Charlie Pierce), and other Scissorheads who have moved on (we hope to better worlds, RIP our beloved Xristi). While we are known far and wide as The Internet’s Band of Incorrigible Spitballers®, I prefer to think of us as people who actually give a damn. Sure, we ride our high horse on the low road, but we do it because laughter is sometimes the only way to cope. Plus, Wingnuts and Libertarians take themselves too seriously (as do we Libtards); laughing at them gets the pontificating poltroons’ panties in a bunch.
So from the tip of my nose to the bottoms of my toes, thank you for being the heart and soul of MPS. Without you, there would be no Mock, no Paper, no Scissors. From the most sincere comment, to the most wicked laugh, the Scissorheads are what make this place what it is. Thank you for spending a few minutes here every day.
And so now a small toast: I feel so lucky that we have all found each other, we are like beautiful, shooting stars in a lovely, sparkling, constellation on a clear, dark night. May we shine in our heavens—together—forever.
Of all the many things for which I am grateful this year, very high (no pun intended) on the list must be The Scissorheads, whom everyone knows is The Internet’s Band of Incorrigible Spitballers®.
So many years ago, after Chimpy McStagger won re-election and the nation lost its collective s***, this blog changed from crafty DIY content to our primal scream of snark and spitballing. I honestly do not think I would have made it if not for being able to vent during his Reign of Error, and finding our virtual extended family helped.
We’ve met so many people on this journey from suburbia to the heart of snarkness, and said farewell to a few too. Our fabulous Muse Xristi comes to mind right away, but so does the mysterious Wee Mousie, and the person whom I still think of as being the internets Center Square Sorghum Crow. Life got in the way of our beloved Dimitrios who (thankfully) returned this year.
(And I’m especially thankful that three bloggers—none of whom are blogging anymore—encouraged me to start this jalopy: Morse, Watertiger, and BlueGal—who now is a podcaster. Without them, there would be no MPS, and that is a fact.)
And then there are those who have come and never left, and unlike houseguests and old fish, they are always welcome here at the center of the blog-o-verse – there are too many to name, but you all know who you are, right SkinnyDennis et al? Our own Mr. C. Montgomery Burns who practically owns what is the most popular feature, The Bad Ads, and I am forever grateful for his dedication to finding the most shocking and scurrilous ads on the innertubes. Of course all of you are Mr. Burns’ helpers in this matter.
And I am thankful beyond words for the official unindicted co-conspirators who have played such a big role over the years: GRS our mysterious man of music, Mountjoy who makes us laugh over the most appalling things and has the dirtiest mind on the internet (and also the kindest and biggest heart), Axel Grease (who creates some of the funniest Photoshops ever and is a master of the Music Video), our better angel Tex Betsy, and our now quite famous Katie Schwartz (you can find her very funny work on Funny or Die, College Humor, well just about everywhere where laughter is the point)—she is the original C***zilla.
Anyway, I didn’t mean this to turn into an Academy Awards speech, but I did want to thank everyone for contributing, even the lurkers who find MPS when searching for Pig F***ing. You’re all special snowflakes, and everyone of you is an Ace in my book, which probably means I should play poker now.
And so this morning we crawl out from the wreckage and look around to see what we have made.
First off, we must note that this was long-predicted to be the GOP’s year.
The Confederacy is really reassembled, and this is hardly a surprise. The blessing in disguise might be that there might not be any more Blue Dog Democrats left. (A pundit last night said that there are no Democrats holding Congressional offices in the Deep South—deep south being an amorphous term I’m not sure how to fact check that).
The turn-out was low, even historically low. The final numbers are not available yet, but again one of the pundits last night said that it was under 40%, and it may have been closer to 30%. So while I can comfort myself by noting that last night doesn’t reflect all of us, or even a majority of us, it does reflect those who voted. As I have long-pointed out to the Purity Trolls, it doesn’t matter if the turn-out is under 10%, voting matters, as it is the majority rule of those who do vote. We now have to live with what that under-forty percent decided for the rest of us.
For me the other really big trend was that Citizens United and the Fab Five on the Supreme Court won big. There is no doubt that Big, Dark, Money won the evening; everything else is just tactics and details.
And speaking of tactics and details, the Dims who ran away from being Democrats all lost. The ones who cheered and championed the accomplishments of the past 6 years all won. One hopes that running away from success will be remembered as a losing tactic.
Also/too, it seems that as a tactic Wingnuttia has won large on voter suppression. Expect to see more of that. Again, the Fab Five on the Supreme Court won big on gutting the Voting Rights Act.
And now to the wreckage… or not. I think we all know the golems and orcs who won last night.
Lastly, as always, we need to remember to thank the people who tried to do the right thing. If you voted last night, you are a hero. You fought the good fight. If you live in one of the so-called battleground states, you are aces in my book. It is hard to fight and lose, and then hear everyone scream at you for losing. Thank you for everything you do.
Mother Jones’ Kevin Drum has been diagnosed with cancer. We send our best wishes (and prayers, such as they are) to Mr. Drum and we hope for a speedy recovery.
I’ve been working on a Value Voter Summit cut-out-and-keep table for the past two days, only to learn that my hosted WordPress install doesn’t support tables anymore.
Is it too early to start drinking?