It’s the back half of another shitty day in paradise. Managed to contract some sort of lung bug that’s knocking me on my ass. Couple that with two shots of NyQuil and a dark room and you’ve got the post below. Had to write it, so please forgive the typos. The vitriol, however, is something you can feel free to let seep in like wet grass saturating the knees of your jeans while pick weeds on a dew-filled morning.
- Here’s what I want to happen, although confrontation and reality have never been among the Republicans’ strong suits: I want every kid who sat in my class over the past year or two who showed up wearing a GOP shirt, a Walker for Governor shirt, a Rebecca Kleefisch shirt (Yes, they actually made those) or any other similar waste of cotton to make an appointment with me. I then want them to come to my office, sit down and tell me, to my face, that I’m an overpaid, worthless state worker and that, for what little good I did for them, I deserve to get hosed in any way Scott Walker sees fit. Then I want them to tell me that the secretary who managed to wedge them into their classes so they could graduate, the janitors who swept up after they ignored the “NO FOOD!” signs in the reading room, the counselors who helped them navigate the university’s bizzaro rules and the hundreds of other people who helped them walk out of this place with a degree (or get to this point at least) are over-paid, coddled, spoiled brats who don’t deserve what little they have. Do it and I’ll gladly shut up.
- Speaking of our esteemed lieutenant governor, I found that she’s revamping her website. However, a cached version of her old page had this gem as the main thrust point:
Don’t just stand aside and allow politicians to make your choices for you. Make your voice heard.
Wonder if she still feels that way…
- Trying to parse the public sector/private sector debate, I chatted with a colleague who just made the move from MBA-land to academia. The money, she said, was better, the bennies worse, but there was something else no one understood. She said that when you took things away from private workers, there was a possibility that those items could come back. You can find another job or demand a raise or such. It doesn’t always work, she said, but it is possible. When a public worker loses something, she said, it’s gone for good. Worth pondering.
- If I read one more damned editorial telling the Democrats to “get back to work” I’m going to personally find the Dems, get them together and film them singing this. (Come to think of it, why isn’t someone working on a Wisconsin set of lyrics for this? Wonder if I could get Matt Damon out there to reprise his role…) I’ll play in never-ending loop on every available media outlet. They want to work. They want to do what they were sent to the state house to do: represent their constituents. However Darth Walker has made these desires mutually exclusive. Keep running, guys, if for no other reason than it has the media writing that they’re speaking to you from “an undisclosed location.” Feels very espionage-y. (Yes, I just made that up.)
- Why hasn’t more been made about the TWO MISSING REPUBLICANS on Thursday? Get back to work wrecking our state, you assholes. That’s what your party and the corporate interests pay you for.
- Haven’t spoken to Mom yet, but at least I know where she is. Dad left me a voicemail today, noting that things are “interesting.” That’s Dad-speak for “Holy shit, I can’t even comprehend what the hell is going to happen next.” Mom’s school district remained open. Not only did she go and teach today, but the reason I couldn’t get a hold of her was this: It’s the opening weekend for the high school play she’s directing. No way in hell she’d bail on those kids who worked so hard for this. So she’s directing and helping to run stage crew while the only union she’s ever known over 43 years may be crumbling. Dad volunteered to sell tickets.
Yup, just another money-grubbing, over-paid, worthless-assed, (hyphen-whoring) state employee.
Good night and good luck, y’all.