I turn my laptop on in the morning already knowing that the battle continued raging even while I was asleep.  Indeed, shots were fired in the middle of the night.

“You have to ask yourself, are you here for the revolution?  Are you a revolutionary or what?”

I’m definitely a “what.”  And the correct category is…?

“Are you a patriot?  Are you fighting for liberty?  We are continuing our fight against the useless bureaucrats in D.C.”

“How can any liberal support Hillary?”

“How can any conservative support Kasich?”

“Bernie will smash the banks…”

“Trump will keep those illegals out…”

Remember when the Internet used to be all about posting pictures of babies, lunches and kittens?  Believe it or not, I really miss that time.

“You people are privileged and don’t know what it’s like to struggle…”

Hey, everyone!  Here’s a video of Chirpy!

“You people have never had a real job or paid taxes–you don’t what it’s like out there in the adult world…”

“Old and square…”

“Young and dumb…”

Chirpy is a parakeet.  He likes to play the synth…

“Racist…”

“Politically correct sheeple…”

“Fascist…”

“Communist…”

Watch him play the Game of Thrones theme!

“You Nazis should get sent to camps…”

He even whistles along!

“You SJWs should get shot into a ditch…”

And isn’t it hilarious how the cat is watching him from below?

Right?

Guys?

“Let’s burn everything down!”

“Let’s burn everything down!”

It’s not too late.  We don’t have to burn everything down.

 

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There is a race going on in this country right now which I’m following with great interest, and I’m not talking about any of the 2014 political contests, although I’m sure I’ll do plenty of grumbling about those later. No, I’m thinking of the race to open the first cat cafe in North America.

The idea for the cat cafe started in that home of the strange and bizarre, Japan, and they are wildly popular there–along with other novelty cafes, like ones where you can have lunch with stuffed animals if you’re feeling lonely. The cat cafe trend has since spread to Europe and Australia as well. It’s such an addictive concept that I’m surprised it hasn’t popped up earlier here in the States–you can sip your favorite caffeinated beverage in the company of anywhere between 10 and 30 kitties which you can pet and interact with. Most of the American cafes which are being planned intend to have the cats up for adoption, so they will serve a good cause as well.

Naturally, when it comes to the cat cafe race, I am rooting for Purringtons Cat Lounge, which is tentatively scheduled to open here in the Portland area sometime in the fall. But Purringtons has fierce competition. There are ideas being bounced around for cat cafes in Seattle, Reno and South Florida. And if I were to bet on the winner of the race, my money would be on the San Francisco area–either KitTea, which is trying to open its doors this summer, or the Cat Town Cafe in Oakland, which already has a location and a possible September opening date. I should add that all of these cafes have Kickstarter or Indiegogo campaigns going, so if you want to support your hometown’s cat cafe bid, you can help make the dream happen.

The hilarious part about all of this is that I love cats, but am very allergic to them, so I will probably choke to death as soon as I step foot in one of these fabulous places. But no matter–it will be worth it. A glorious death, surrounded by all those cute cats! If I don’t make it back out alive, remember me as one who adored the kittehz. And best of luck to Purringtons!

For once, a coupling has taken place which is more disturbing to conservatives than any gay wedding can ever be.  Yes, Republicans and Democrats decided to get together and make a budget, and all day long, the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth was heard on the talk radio airwaves.  The conservative dog had awkward interspecies sex with the liberal cat, and the resulting litter doesn’t appeal to anybody.

One could see the budget as a Christmas miracle, a moment when two sides which had long been warring with each other came together in peace.  But right wing radio listeners think this really is a war, so a deal isn’t just a deal, it’s abandoning your position to the enemy.  And so Paul Ryan, formerly the golden boy of the Ayn Rand brigade, is now being dragged through the mud by his own followers for consorting with the other side.

Mind you, there are things in this budget that I don’t like at all, as a progressive.  But, well, that’s the nature of compromise–you get things you don’t like.  It’s a sign of where we are as a country that a compromise is considered an apocalyptic event.  Perhaps, for all the talk about our desire for bipartisanship, we–secretly or not so secretly–prefer the drama and division?

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Had to take a moment to express my love for Grumpy Cat…finally, another creature with as much of an appreciation for pessimism as me 🙂  Fuck all that positive thinking bullshit.  Although unlike me, Grumpy Cat would probably say “Drone strikes on American citizens?  GOOD.”

http://interact.stltoday.com/pr/business/PR091412114910354

Link to the Decision 2012–Elect St Louis’ Favorite Pet contest, which is going to feature one dog, one cat and “independent candidates” (hamsters?).  At this point, I’m thinking I would much rather watch these guys debate each other until November.  I bet they’re not going to cut Medicare or lie about their marathon time.

Let’s face it, I would probably vote for a dog over a human any day anyway–for the honesty factor, if nothing else.  Too bad Seamus isn’t around anymore, maybe he could have been recruited.

In the comments to my Hunger Games blog, the topic of celebrity worship came up.  I was under the mistaken impression that celebrity worship was a bad thing.  In particular, I mentioned that there’s a downtown hotel which I frequently walk past where I can watch the fans of celebrity athletes line up whenever a basketball team comes to town, holding their “Love You Kobe!” signs, and how I found this rather pathetic, especially since the athletes in question don’t give a flying rat’s ass and usually breeze past without even glancing at their faithful.

However, I decided to do more research on this question, since every blog should involve research at least once in a while.  After having ingested large amounts of gossip material, I have located valid reasons for why celebrities should be worshipped:

They wear coats made of purple minks—a creature I didn’t know existed. 

If you’re an artist, they will hire you to paint a portrait of them surrounded by fluttering angels.  (I think Michael Jackson had one of those.)  I live in a family of artists and, believe me, anyone who will buy art in this economy deserves to be worshipped. 

They can have sex with anyone they desire, kind of the way Zeus used to do. 

Also, they starve themselves into malnutrition, which makes them martyrs as well as gods.  When they do eat, they have very strict food rules and they are willing to divulge their secrets to us, so that as their devotees, we are able to follow their dietary laws. 

I have to admit to heresy:  I’m still not really satisfied with any of these deities.  I suppose I could try worshipping political celebrity gods, like St. Ronnie of the Free Market, or the future St. Obama, once his presidency is over and he can be canonized.  But let’s face it, I don’t want to waste my adoration on any of these flawed humans—they are not worthy of it.  Instead, I will do what most people in Portland do, and worship my little pet dog.  Look at the face in that picture—doesn’t he look like he’s enlightened already?