Figures. Get your guy elected President and all hell breaks loose.
Who even knew Hawaii had gays and lesbians, let alone Anna Paquins? Isn't it all pineapples, leis and surfing? Is there a gay or lesbian on "Lost"?
Most non-Hawaiian Americans bristle at the idea of a "Civil Union". How odd. After all, some distinguished Bloggers' own mothers were wed at least once in purely civil ceremonies. Whether they subsequently soared up to Heaven or kayaked the Styx is another story for another blog.
The US (less Arizona, of course) has a Constitution that says, "Please leave religion pretty out of the law books." It is othen said that between law and religion America has erected a Chinese Dry Wall. If you wall off religion from marriage, say replace the rabbi, minister or priest with a judge, Elvis or The Love Boat's Captain Stubbing what do you get?
Uh huh.
The government simply deputizes religious officials to perform the civil bonding of individuals--and probably, now, corporations--and if the souls get hooked, too, well, that's just for the parents and their friends. The Honeymoon is something else altogether.
Howt about "What God has Joined, Let no Man put Asunder"? That is pure religion and about as yesterday as Latin. Dozens of men put asunder their joint-ships every day and take fire hydrants along for the ride, the latter clearly a civil matter. Under the First Amendment, God does not get to own any fire hydrants in this country.
Politicians already know this, which explains John Edwards Syndrome. But not the actual haircut.
Think about those weddings performed at City Hall. They are clearly nothing but civil unions, executed without the holy water or glass-breaking. Kissing the bride is something else altogether.
In US law, then, only the civil union part matters; the religious part is on the far side of the Dry Wall with the included embalming vapors and the corroded copper piping. So, get out the dictionary and the Elmer's glue. We are Americans and we redefine terms all the time: For example, a jump to 27.24% interest rates used to be called "usury" or "loan sharking" but is now called "your Amex default rate". (You get to plug in your own examples, like Visa or Macy's, so as to keep this post short.)
Starting today, all the atheists and their near-atheist kin, the liberals and moderates, can proudly state, from now on, that they are "civil unionized" instead of married.
Doesn't have much a lilt to it, does it?
Better to call on the Old English for a suggested rewording: Wedlock is what's left of the Old English words wed and lac, which combine for pledge-giving; and, we already freely substitute wed for marry. That should please Republicans and TP'ers, who long for the good old days, but hate Latin.
And wedlock echoes nicely of ball and chain, too.
Showing posts with label Amex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amex. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Milkaholism is a Disease of the Visa, Too
No, not your everyday Visa card. Or the one now required just to walk Arizona streets.
The one that is solid gold and has been used to death by Lindsay One-Name (formerly Lindsay Lohan).
It has long been established that milkaholism is a disease of the mind, soul and wallet. Cow Milk is a very expensive and addictive substance, except for skim milk which is blue.
Many become hooked before they even have a cell phone. Parents often encourage their young children to consume this dangerous hamberger by-product a glass at a time. It is often cut with various mousy-brown powders containing caffeine into an immediate brain-popping extra-sugary liquid high. As if it needs help. While it is available, itself, in powdered from, that is just too yucky even for the most far gone. In any case, neither People nor TMZ has a single iPhone photo of Ms. One-Name consuming the powder through a straw.
Clearly, Ms. One-Name has a problem. It is widely reported that she has run up a super heavy credit card tab. Think heftier than the number of TBO's New French-colored Benjamins that a Lobbyist can jam into a Congressman's golf bag: $600,000, spent, largely, on Milk and Ovaltine. Always conservative Visa and Mastercard have either cut her off altogether or dropped her credit limit to $200,000.
Ms. One-Name's own father crashed her in-pad partying with her Muslim sister, Ali, because he couldn't charge a limo on the Discover Card he gets to use as her guardian. "This has to stop!" he is reported as saying. "You are endangering my frickin' feet!"
Despite it all, Ms. One-Name is still a fine actress. She has acted blotto in numerous roles as clubbing diva, missing Rolex witness and missing witness period. Her 2009 film, "Labor Pains" earned the distinction of a grand opening in Bucharest before ABC Family on Cable outbid Nuuk for its western hemisphere premier a month later. Her next blockbuster is scheduled to open in August 2010--and perhaps Greenland will land this one--In it, she has yet another convincing turn in support of mega-star Jessica Alba and the comedy team of Cheech Marin and Chong Johnson.
But her adiction and spontaneous crying jags over broken, white-coated tumblers may have cost Ms. One-Name her first Oscar-worthy role since "Herbbie Fully Loaded" (no pun intended).
In "The Other Side of 'Lost'", Ms. One-Name was to be transported by Amex Platinum Vacations to a remote island with night clubs under every manhole cover, there to discover the essence of throbbing smoke-monsters and improbable vodka mojitos. Unfortunately, American Express canceled her vacation and, as she was working for scale and paying her own way, the producers had to go find a comparable actress--if there is one--with a functioning credit card.
Not to mention the persistent mustache that inevitably forms over the lips of the addicted. While some may find it sexy, just think of experiencing it through 3D glasses, several feet high and nearly in your lap.
Okay, bad example.
Ms. One-Name tearfully declaims against reports of her addiction, but the music overwhelms even her powerful, if increasingly throaty, voice (oh so perfect in the musical "Prairie Home Vaudevillian"). And paparazzi sliding off the hood a a car are always whining too loudly. The tip-off, however, is that excessive milk consumption leads to career-threatening deposits of calcium in the hair.
Deny, deny all you want, glamorous Ms. One-Name, but something had to have turned your beautiful red hair to that limp, painfully undistinguished blond.
The one that is solid gold and has been used to death by Lindsay One-Name (formerly Lindsay Lohan).
It has long been established that milkaholism is a disease of the mind, soul and wallet. Cow Milk is a very expensive and addictive substance, except for skim milk which is blue.
Many become hooked before they even have a cell phone. Parents often encourage their young children to consume this dangerous hamberger by-product a glass at a time. It is often cut with various mousy-brown powders containing caffeine into an immediate brain-popping extra-sugary liquid high. As if it needs help. While it is available, itself, in powdered from, that is just too yucky even for the most far gone. In any case, neither People nor TMZ has a single iPhone photo of Ms. One-Name consuming the powder through a straw.
Clearly, Ms. One-Name has a problem. It is widely reported that she has run up a super heavy credit card tab. Think heftier than the number of TBO's New French-colored Benjamins that a Lobbyist can jam into a Congressman's golf bag: $600,000, spent, largely, on Milk and Ovaltine. Always conservative Visa and Mastercard have either cut her off altogether or dropped her credit limit to $200,000.
Ms. One-Name's own father crashed her in-pad partying with her Muslim sister, Ali, because he couldn't charge a limo on the Discover Card he gets to use as her guardian. "This has to stop!" he is reported as saying. "You are endangering my frickin' feet!"
Despite it all, Ms. One-Name is still a fine actress. She has acted blotto in numerous roles as clubbing diva, missing Rolex witness and missing witness period. Her 2009 film, "Labor Pains" earned the distinction of a grand opening in Bucharest before ABC Family on Cable outbid Nuuk for its western hemisphere premier a month later. Her next blockbuster is scheduled to open in August 2010--and perhaps Greenland will land this one--In it, she has yet another convincing turn in support of mega-star Jessica Alba and the comedy team of Cheech Marin and Chong Johnson.
But her adiction and spontaneous crying jags over broken, white-coated tumblers may have cost Ms. One-Name her first Oscar-worthy role since "Herbbie Fully Loaded" (no pun intended).
In "The Other Side of 'Lost'", Ms. One-Name was to be transported by Amex Platinum Vacations to a remote island with night clubs under every manhole cover, there to discover the essence of throbbing smoke-monsters and improbable vodka mojitos. Unfortunately, American Express canceled her vacation and, as she was working for scale and paying her own way, the producers had to go find a comparable actress--if there is one--with a functioning credit card.
Not to mention the persistent mustache that inevitably forms over the lips of the addicted. While some may find it sexy, just think of experiencing it through 3D glasses, several feet high and nearly in your lap.
Okay, bad example.
Ms. One-Name tearfully declaims against reports of her addiction, but the music overwhelms even her powerful, if increasingly throaty, voice (oh so perfect in the musical "Prairie Home Vaudevillian"). And paparazzi sliding off the hood a a car are always whining too loudly. The tip-off, however, is that excessive milk consumption leads to career-threatening deposits of calcium in the hair.
Deny, deny all you want, glamorous Ms. One-Name, but something had to have turned your beautiful red hair to that limp, painfully undistinguished blond.
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