- Published: Wednesday, December 02, 2009
- Written by Cynthia Stone
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, there existed the United States of America. Many four scores of years ago a person could walk up to the White House and request a visit with the president. Just imagine, poor peasant person that you are, that you have a simple demand or request that could help your community or country and just happen to live down the street from the new king. You walk up, the president is free, and you are welcomed into the goddamn house he lives in that you bloody paid for!!! Why do you think you’re a peasant? ‘Cause you just added a new wing. They labeled it: “The West Wing.” And for your viewing pleasure: Visiting hours are Never.
In modern times, of course, the American people are not welcome into the public house they paid for and keep paying for. Our children will continue paying for it long after our decrepit, withered, broken souls are deep in the digestive systems of worms and zombies. It’s not fair! I’m lucky if some sweaty guy gets the letter I wrote about whatever I feel like; the president never reads that crap. Let alone actually get to go to dinner with the most powerful man on the planet. I think you see what I’m getting at: recently, a couple of dumb idiots crashed the state dinner at the White House. Boo, bloody, hoo. I think we sound more like the "Planet of the Apes."