Vermont Snarky Boy

Um. Like. Whatever.

2011-07-04T13:56:00.003-07:00

Fuck. You've been lame in my absence.

But I'm coming back. Only because there's way too much shit to make fun of.

I'm now at a place called SnarkyBoy.com (only because it's going to make me some money this time around). Get there. Reset your browser. And let me know how you're feeling and all.

Time Out

2007-10-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

Yo. Thanks for all the emails, folks. I appreciate the feedback and the interest. But, for now, if you want to continue playing (and reading), you need to re-direct your browser to here. Hopefully, it will all make sense.

Love,

Snarky Boy

Snarky Boy Warm-up Drills

2007-08-23T12:23:00.001-07:00

This Ain't No Wow No More (The Kills)

2007-08-23T12:14:00.001-07:00

Max Roach-R.I.P.

2007-08-16T16:52:00.001-07:00

Thanks, Max, for getting me through many nights.

Snarky Sports: NASCAR & The Baby Jesus

2007-08-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

Snarky Boy loves NASCAR. Yep. Deal with it. It’s the best comedy going, folks. It’s unapologetic, unvarnished, and un-fucking-believably American. And around and around they go. And so I loved the news last week that NASCAR’s favorite outlaw, Tony Stewart (#20), was admonished and fined by racing officials for saying the word “bullshit” while being interviewed on national television. According to ESPN, “NASCAR called the language inappropriate and said Stewart’s actions were detrimental to stock-car racing.”

See what I mean? That’s funny. And since bullshit is a two-syllable word, I doubt that many NASCAR fans even understood what Stewart was saying. But, seriously, if you’ve ever been to a NASCAR race – I have – you’ll know that bullshit is one of the more family friendly words being uttered in the grandstands. But in the new world of sports marketing, everyone’s got to pretend to be pure – even NASCAR. Now THAT’S bullshit.

So click here and let’s pray together.

Snarky Mail Time!

2007-08-08T08:10:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, let’s get to the Snarky mail. You folks have been busy – filling my box with all kinds of quips, tips and those lovely little missives involving the infliction of pain to certain Snarky Boy body parts. Ouch. But at least you’re reading.

First up, Mr. Mark Johnson again. He’s now declared that he’s done whining to the Snarkmaster. Whew. Now let’s hope he readjusts his sense of humor and, better yet, begins to extend his reach beyond the same old politicians and same old advertisers as his guests. He remains the king of Vermont radio in Snarky’s book but we’d like to see his playful side a bit more often. His declaration to stop whining about this blog is a good step in the right direction. Now let’s re-open those talks about a snarky co-host. I think I know just the guy…

I’ve also been inundated with ninny missives about local Dems, particularly those seven Dems who nest over at Odumb’s Green Mountain Daily site. Please, people, how many times do I have to tell you: Odumb’s an idiot underachiever who would rather eat cotton candy than process a coherent thought. Hell, he can’t even trust his seven Dem dwarfs over there, since several of them are secretly emailing Snarky Boy begging me to continue taking whacks at him in the hopes that he’ll pull the high-drama card again (yawn) and quit. Sorry, but whacking Odumb is like kicking kittens. It’s just not fair – or fun. Just let him keep suckling on the partisan teats of Dem-witted nonsense and he won’t bother or inspire anyone except those seven irrelevant dopes who apparently have nothing better to do but continue their little circle jerk. Whatever. Note to the GMDers who want me to jump in again: Fight your own fights. Or, better yet, get a life.

Even though I’m now an office-sort-of-guy, I’ve still got my boots on the ground when it comes to the blue-collar tips. Consider, for example, the nugget I got last week from a Barre town employee who told me that the mainstream media got the July flood story all wrong. As you’ll recall, the Times Argus and others ran with the story that the flash flooding that sent six-feet of water into the downtown streets was the result of the new development going on up on the hillside. Well, according to my source, that’s only a small part of the problem. The bigger problem is that Barre’s storm drains have been hopelessly neglected, leaving them plugged and unable to handle the amount of water they were designed to handle. But the folks in City Hall, led by the smarmy Mayor Thom Lauzon, have successfully diverted the media from the real story of the neglected storm drains, thus saving their own asses from the embarrassment and culpability of their infrastructure neglect. Yo Mayor Thom, how about some truth?

Speaking of infrastructure neglect, let’s talk bridges. As many of you know, the Minneapolis story hit home with Snarky Boy because, well, I drive on bridges. Gotcha there, huh? You gotta love how politicians all over the country – including our own Howdy Doody Douglas – are rushing to look like they’ve got the bridge situation under control. But Republicans like Douglas shouldn’t be allowed to wipe the egg from their faces quite so quickly. They do, after all, run every election on the mantra of slashing the big, evil central government. You know, that evil empire that does things like...oh…maintain our national infrastructure. And then a neglected bridge pancakes its passengers and the political whores deny their budget slashing ways as fast as you can say “liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Taste this delicious intro to yesterday’s New York Times piece on the bridge collapse:

In the past two ears, Gov. Tim Pawlenty of Minnesota twice vetoed legislation to raise the state’s gas tax to pay for transportation needs.

Now, with at least five people dead in the collapse of the Interstate I-35W bridge here, Mr. Pawlenty, a Republican, appears to have a change of heart.

“He’s open to that,” Brian McClung, a spokesman for the governor, said Monday of a higher gas tax.

That, my friends, is what’s called a whiplash-inducing flip-flop. You just gotta love it when Republicans crank up the tax to save their own ass. Because we all know they don’t really hate taxes, they just hate taxes that don’t either line the pockets of their friends or get them re-elected. Principles? Fuck that.

And let’s not let the Dems off the hook, either. They’re whoring themselves on this issue, too. Surprise, surprise. While there’s a convenient Republican in the center of this storm, the Dems are in full cahoots in the game of transportation earmarks that are leaving bridges like the one in Minneapolis is deep, deep jeopardy. As the Times reported yesterday, the game of transportation earmarks – those not-so-little financial gifts congress members get for their districts – are almost always designated for “sexy” new projects, rarely for repair and simple upkeep. Don’t believe me? How many times have you seen Leahy or Sanders stand in front of an ugly old bridge and hear them declare than they just got the federal loot to repair it? ECHO Centers are better for the political ego, my friends.

Speaking of political ego, let’s get back to Vermont’s Republicans. If, like me, you’re a bit nervous about crossing certain Vermont bridges in the wake of the Minnesota tragedy, well, you should be. Because guess who’s in control of Vermont’s Department of Transportation? An engineer? Nope. A transportation expert? Nope. A seasoned highway safety professional. No way. Think politics, baby. As in: Neale Lunderville, Governor Douglas’ former campaign manager and the former director of the Vermont Republican Party. Barely a decade beyond being legally able to sit next to me at Charlie O’s, Lunderville’s running the Vermont’s DOT for exactly two reasons: political payback and to remain in the Douglas political circle. Yep, as in: political science, Lunderville’s major way back in the – oh – late nineties. Here’s another way to look at it: The 32-year old Lunderville is eight years younger than the Minneapolis bridge that collapsed. And to think they’re calling the bridge young. But, please, I’ve got nothing against young fellas, I’ve just got a beef with young fellas taking jobs they have absolutely no experience with, especially when it may impact the likelihood that I’m still alive after crossing a fucking bridge. But notice, dear readers, that Vermont’s mainstream media – including 7 Daze – won’t touch this part of the story. Instead, we’re getting one bullshit piece after another that features young Neale reassuring us that everything’s a-okay in Vermont. Lap it up, folks.

Finally, thanks to the Snarky reader who sent me this story about bloggers unionizing. Sounds good to me. Now if I could just find a blogging boss I’d be all set. Anyone looking to plunk down about 30K for your very own snarky wordsmith? First come, first served. I promise. (Memo to my current boss: I love you.)

Thanks for playing, folks. It wouldn’t be the state’s most popular blog without your tips and quips. Keep ‘em coming to me at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com.

Driving with Mr. Bill

2007-08-07T06:46:00.001-07:00

There’s nothing really funny about Senator Bill Doyle playing crash ‘em up derby in the parking lot of a car dealership. Or is there? Yeah, there is. Lots, in fact. We all know him. We’ve all seen him. So it’s not real hard to imagine. The real shocker is that he hasn’t done it before. But the best part of the story is the excuse Old Bill gave to the Times Argus: “Doyle said the brake and accelerator pedals were located more closely together on the Impreza than in the larger vehicles. And he noted that his shoe size is unusually wide, making it more difficult to negotiate the pedal system.” Yeah right, Bill. Whatever you say.

Okay, let’s let Old Bill get away with that excuse. But now let’s look a little deeper into the story. Here, again, is an excerpt from the Times Argus story this morning: “Doyle said he was having lunch with his wife, Olene, on Thursday, and decided to test drive cars. The senator did not have his driver’s license with him, and was told by the Twin City sales staff that he could only drive vehicles on the dealership lot, not out on the road.”

Hmm, he had to be told that he couldn’t take a car for a spin without a driver’s license? Lawmakers should know that kind of thing, no?

Forget worrying about the goddamn bridges. I’m keeping my eye out for Old Bill behind the wheel.

Give it up, Bill. Your license, that is. And now.

Thanks, Iggy

2007-08-07T06:24:00.001-07:00

I needed that. And You? Wake the fuck up, Vermont.

Thanks to Mark Johnson, I'm Back

2007-08-03T09:38:00.000-07:00

Oh hell, I fell off the goddamn merry-go-round again, didn’t I? And you greedy little readers certainly let me know about it, too. Whatever. Forget about the excuses this time. Let’s just say life interrupted art. Yeah, that’s it.

Thanks to all who inquired about by whereabouts. And special thanks to the equal number of folks who shared their morbid dreams that the Snarky One had disappeared for good. Sorry, no such luck. I’ve tried to shed my snarky side for years, dear readers, but then the man I pay weekly to listen to me – some call him a therapist – announced more than a year ago that it would be best if I just worked this shit out in public. So, you see, I have no choice. Doctor’s orders. And so I blog. And you? What the hell’s your excuse for being here?

Oh damn, I’m already digressing. Let’s get back to the mail. First up is the first-ever official Snarky Boy correction. Yep, just like in the New York Times, I’m about to declare that within all the bullshit buried within this electronic endeavor there contains an item in need of a correction. The irony, of course, is that to offer such a correction requires the gigantic leap of faith that the rest of the stuff printed here is beyond factual reproach. Gotta love it. I guess it’s kind of like declaring that Rudolph’s nose really isn’t red but leaving the whole Santa thing unquestioned.

But when Mark Johnson whines, you gotta listen. And boy can he whine. I guess he didn’t get a long enough vacation at Shore Acres Inn, huh? Specifically, Mr. Johnson of WDEV fame took Mr. Snarky to task for running with two tips I got that his trip to China earlier this summer was partially subsidized by members of the Vermont Chamber of Commerce. Johnson cried foul. I did some checking with my now former sources and, sure enough, there was no specific funding of Johnson’s trip from anyone except Johnson and his boss, Ken Squier.

So listen up, Mark: Snarky Boy was incorrect in publishing this accusation and the entire Snarky enterprise consisting of one lame bastard now publicly offers our – um, my -- sincere apologies for what – according to your emails – caused you much consternation. There. Whew. That was weird. But he insisted.

Now let’s revisit Mark’s great China adventure. Sure, as proven above, Mark didn’t receive a dime for his trip, but he did get led around like a fish on a hook by the Chamber of Commerce folks while there. They were setting the agenda and making the arrangements for where Mark would be and what Mark would see – including his well-publicized run-ins with Governor Douglas, whereby Mark crooned about the importance of it all. For those wondering at home, this is what they refer to as “embedded journalism.” But, let me repeat, Mark paid for the airfare.

Oh wait, I’m now getting an important bulletin over the Snarky News Wire. Hmm, it turns out that a certain Mark Johnson is now demanding that the creators of The Simpsons issue an apology to its fans for not declaring that the whole endeavor is rather cartoonish. You go, Mark. Justice for all!

Oops, gotta run. Boss is lurking. Keep those emails coming, folks. As you know, you can reach me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com.

Thanks for playing. Yes, playing.

Snarky Exclusive! The Super Secret Shumlin & Symington Strategy Sessions Caught on Tape!

2007-07-11T16:30:00.000-07:00

Here you go folks. The tapes everyone in the State House has been talking about -- the super-secret strategy sessions of Shumlin & Symington preparing for their great veto override adventures. Granted, it's a bit hard to tell which one is which but, given the techniques, it's clearly them. I'm guessing Shumlin's the one on his feet at the end. But you tell me what you think. You can see the entire video by clicking here.

Stay tuned.

Douglas Whips the Weasels (again)

2007-07-11T10:55:00.000-07:00

No big surprise here: The Vermont Legislature – the one controlled by a so-called veto-proof majority of Democrats – failed to override Governor Jim Douglas veto of the anti-global warming bill today. In fact, it wasn’t even close. The Gaye Symington-led Dems in the House needed 98 votes to make the trek to Montpelier worth their time and the tax-payers money but only managed 86 votes. Ouch. And how much more proof do the Dems need that Gaye’s sleepy and passionless style of leadership is…well…sleepy and passionless? Good grief, enough already.

Given my new office job, I wasn’t able to listen to much of Mark Johnson’s coverage this morning from the State House on WDEV. I did, however, hear a bit of his interview with the Guv. The best part was when Douglas accused the Dem leadership of using “weasel” talk in the weeks and days leading up to the special override session. Cool. Earth to Dems: Notice the passion – not to mention the consistency. Douglas didn’t, for example, issue a press release before a negotiating session declaring that his spine is turning to jelly and he might be willing to back-pedal on positions that he only moments before declared that he’d fight to the death over.

And guess what? Douglas won. But we all lost. Damn it. And while the Dems and their oh-so-brain-dead followers will hoot and holler over what an obstructionist Douglas is, I’d suggest that they take a good long look in the mirror, too. Or, better yet, take a good long look at Shumlin and Symington, because the strategy they employed through this whole affair was nothing short of moronic, insulting and just plain bone-headed. But it certainly didn’t stop the Dem stooges from falling for it – right over the fucking cliff.

Douglas was right about one thing: The weasel thing. Bingo.

And now can we officially call that session of the legislature what it was: One.Big. Fucking. Dud. Period.

Oh No, They're Back. State House Daycare is Open Again.

2007-07-11T06:01:00.000-07:00

Mmm, I love the smell of fried Democrats in the morning. Or even Republicans for that matter. I mean, what’s the difference anymore, right? Two spoiled kids without much vision beyond their noses. And passion? Forgetaboutit. But, as usual, the joke’s on us – the ones who don’t want to be insulted by joining a “party” when the host will never tell us where the keg is.

Today’s the day the nest of ninnies that comprise the Vermont legislature venture back to Montpelier to – hmm – bicker. Yep. They love to bicker. And moan. And point fingers. Anything but accomplish much of anything that will inspire the populace or – better yet – give us some hope and relief for the future.

If you can’t venture to the Montpelier today to witness the charade of democracy, just get yourself to the nearest hot and sweaty children’s day camp or daycare center. You won’t notice the difference. Oh sure, the size of the whiners will be different, but the rhetoric will be mostly the same, as in: “That’s My Ball!” “No, It’s My Ball!” Whatever.

But, as usual, I’m betting that the not-so-mighty Dems will get their asses handed to them today. Mostly because that’s all they seem to be willing to do of late – whine and lose. Over and over and over.

Oh yeah, and there’s that strategy thing that they can’t seem to get straight, either. You know, like when Senate Leader Shumlin sent his grassroots folks out to fight the good fight over taxing the Vermont Yankee to pay for the energy bill and then he pulled the rug out from under them by offering to remove the tax from the bill. And that pretty much sums up what the Dem leadership thinks about their grassroots fighters – send ‘em into the fray and forget about ‘em. I mean, come on, even Snarky Boy had a moment – just a moment – of compassion for the poor fools who responded to the Dem call for letters to the editor in support of the Yankee tax and then, once published, those same Dem leaders said “never mind” to the whole plan. Dangle, dangle.

But then, faster than you can say “where’s the back bone?” the Dem leaders ran back to their Yankee tax plan after Governor Howdy Doody hiked up his pants and said “boo!” to them in that scary way that only an accountant from Middlebury can muster. Oh baby, feel the power. Not. But it doesn’t take much to blow over the Dem straw men.

So that leaves us with today. What a mess. And, as usual, the only one looking strong is the only one who should be looking like a complete dork: Governor Douglas. I mean, he’s the Republican governor of Vermont denying a bill to fight global warming that a super-majority of Dems have pinned their entire legislative hopes upon. And he’s winning! Unbelievable.

It’s not hard to figure out why Douglas and the Republicans are winning on this one, either. It’s called consistency. Douglas and his shiny team of young Republican guns have done little but slam the door on any and all talk of global warming from the gitgo. Stupid, yes. But consistent for sure.

The Dems, on the other hand, have been led down the ever-twisting strategic road paved by Shumlin in the Senate and Symington in the House. No, I’m driving! No, no, I’m driving! Good luck with that.

I know it’s too late for advice, but the Dems should certainly spend some time with Drew Westen’s book, “The Political Brain: The Role of Emotion in Deciding the Fate of the Nation.” In it, he nails the modern peril of the Dems: They have no passion. Duh. But, better yet, he gives them plenty of advice that can be boiled down to the most obvious: believe in something and fight for it. Again, duh. But, strangely enough, it’s the kind of advice the Dems obviously need.

Okay, okay, so my prediction for the day inside the State House: The Dems lose. Yawn.

Nothing like a veto-proof majority, huh?

[P.S. Here’s some free advice to all legislators today: When Peter Freyne of 7 Daze asks you if you’ve seen Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth,” just say yes. It’ll shut him up. Because that’s all he ever asks on this issue.]

The Republicans Are Having All the Fun, Part 3,568

2007-07-10T12:22:00.000-07:00

Sorry, but I can’t help venturing out of the Vermont political realm for just a moment to jump on the bandwagon of those commenting on the news that Louisiana’s Republican Senator, David Vitter, has issued a statement admitting that he used the services of the now infamous “DC Madam.” Yowza. Oh David, you wild and crazy guy! Well, not exactly. Because now the same guy who was calling up the lady service for a hummer of the non-automotive variety is now weeping the Jimmy Swaggart-style tears and begging the world to forgive his “sinful” transgressions. Give me a fucking break. You wanted it. You called for it. You got it. You enjoyed it. Now shut up about all the remorse, you fool.

You gotta hand it to these Republicans because they know how to have a good time and then – years later – weep like fucking morons so as to play the sympathy card. But, if Vitter was really feeling shitty about his brush with paid sex, why did he wait until the DC Madam was about to release her phone records with his number on them to come out crying? Oh yeah, I almost forgot, because he’s full of shit.

Here, for your reading pleasure is the statement Vitter put out regarding his sexual adventures with the call girl:

This was a very serious sin in my past for which I am, of course, completely responsible. Several years ago, I asked for and received forgiveness from God and my wife in confession and marriage counseling. Out of respect for my family, I will keep my discussion of the matter there _ with God and them. But I certainly offer my deep and sincere apologies to all I have disappointed and let down in any way.

I’m just curious, did Vitter get a receipt for that forgiveness he says he received from God? Because I’d like to see it. Mostly because I’ve never actually seen how that works. But, better yet, I’d like to see a transcript of that discussion he’s having about the encounter with God. I mean, did he offer even a hint of thanks for leading him to such a fine hummer for such a low price? Or if he simply played the remorse card to God, did the Almighty One ever interject to remind him that he witnessed the whole thing and certainly noticed the pleasure? I’m just curious.

Why are the Republicans having all the fun? Vetoes. Blowjobs. Direct lines to God. Perhaps Leahy could start another investigation and get to the bottom of this….

[Please, don't contact God about this blog. I've heard that he doesn't really care about it. Contact me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

Sue Allen Gets Snarky!

2007-07-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

Cool. Sue Allen, the semi-new editor at the Times Argus, let her newspaper’s snarky side spill forth this morning in an editorial that took both the Vermont Dems and the Repubs – particularly the giant ego machines known as Peter Shumlin and Jim Douglas -- to task for the drama surrounding tomorrow’s veto override session of the legislature. Oops, did I say “ego machines”? I meant to say whining children. But, then again, narcissism and the development of the ego are rooted in that precious zone of childhood development. I say put the bastards in a crib and let them work it out on their own. Like Sue Allen and the Times Argus, I’m tired of them forcing the entire state to witness their tantrums and – worse – force us to baby sit them through their nonsense. Or maybe no one but the paid politicians, paid lobbyists and paid journalists is even paying attention to this stuff. What a racket.

Here's my favorite snarky bit from the TA editorial:

Artificial crises between Douglas and the Legislature have become each party's stock in trade: Douglas because he can present himself as the voice of reason holding the Democratic (read out-of-control liberal) hordes at bay; the Legislature because, with Democrats in control of both the House and the Senate, it's handy to have a scapegoat to blame failures on, a role they're happy to see the state's highest-profile Republican assume. And the cries of Panic! Fire! Alarm! serve to make political agitation seem like an important function in the state. For paid political agitators, that's a good thing. For the rest of us, it's like living in a white noise generator.

The simple truth is that most Vermonters wish that Tweedledee Douglas and Tweedledum Shumlin would go away and let us enjoy the summer without fretting over their self-created, self-fulfilling apocalypse.

Nice work.

New & Improved: Snarky Boy on Drugs!

2007-07-08T16:02:00.000-07:00

Oh fuck, you again. Yeah you. Or is it me? To be honest, I’ve lost track of who’s who. So let’s try this: I’ll be me and you be you. And I mean it this time. No more games. Or else.

As for me, I’m on drugs. Yep. The Snarky One is all dosed up on pain medication. And before you start begging me for a pill or two for your own maladies, let me be clear: I ain’t sharing. Period. Because I need every last one of the precious capsules.

You see, I started taking this mountain biking thing a bit too seriously over the July 4th holiday week. And the next thing I knew I was flying in the air and landing squarely on a large rock – ass first with my back perpendicular to the stone so as to squish my fucking spine like an accordion. Technically, I have what the fine docs are calling a “spinal contusion as a result of a traumatic compaction.” Fuck yeah. And you should have heard me holler.

This happened on the Fourth of July. So my day of celebrating turned into a day at the hospital, a visit to a chiropractor and a whole hell of a lot of just plain whining about the pain. Okay, it’s time I let you in on a little secret: When it comes to bodily pain, I am one big pussy. As big as they come, in fact. Hell, I didn’t even want to be left alone while the lovely nurse made her way for the lead wall in the x-ray room. Just give me the meds and set me free, damn it.

But the worst of the worst was the news on the red sticker placed prominently on the med container: “Do Not Consume Alcohol With This Medication.” Say what? And while I haven’t broken the rule yet, I do have a pretty good feeling that they’d go marvelously together. We’ll see.

I really didn’t mind missing the whole Fourth of July evening thing. Is it me, or does it just seem like an excuse for fat, gluttonous, and loud Americans to be fat, gluttonous, and loud Americans? Enough already. And, please, put your fucking shirt back on because you’re making me sick. And that goes for your husband, too.

Besides, being a Montpelier resident – yes, with my own apartment again (my, oh my, a lot has happened, huh?) – I got to celebrate on July 3rd. And the best part of the day was venturing out to see J.D. Ryan of Five Before Chaos fame play his bass at Langdon Street Café. The boy’s got talent – lots of it. And the fellas playing with him in the band called Lingo Mungo ain’t so bad, either. Nice groove. Fine crowd. And most everyone left me alone. Now I’m officially granting J.D. two Snarky Immunity Cards for having talent. It works like this: the next two times that I get the urge to verbally slap J.D. upside of the head for doing something dopey like posting at the dreadful Green Mountain Daily site, I will hold my tongue. But I’ll only do it twice. Use them wisely, my friend.

Speaking of the Vermont blogosphere, I tried like hell (again) to find any shred of entertainment value in the political blogs while I was double dosing on meds and found little but Freyne telling us about his laundry and his recycling days (again), Odumb at GMD donning his Dem Party pom-poms in one display after another of his usual ass-scratching attempts at logic, and the same old Baruth at Vermont Daily Briefing continuously vaulting himself high into the narcissistic air of Planet Love Thyself. Good fucking grief, is this all Vermont’s got to offer?

Actually, I wasn’t quite fair to Freyne. Because other than his increasingly awkward (and redundant) references to his weekly laundry, recycling and column deadline routines, he’s also very faithfully stalking our U.S. Senators, Pat Leahy and Bernie Sanders. I really think he’s got a crush on both of them. I mean, come on, every piece he writes about them has them all but walking on water. And all those photos, too! Sometimes I think Leahy and Sanders are going to put a restraining order on Freyne for all the stalking he does of them. One thing’s for sure, they don’t need to hire him because he’s already working for them – shamelessly.

Oh hell, the meds are wearing off and I’ve still got a pile of notes and story ideas to get through. So let’s rip through them in bullet form:

* Montpelier’s own David Dobbs has a feature story in today’s New York Times Sunday Magazine about a mental health malady known as “Williams Syndrome.” According to Dobbs, it’s a “genetic accident that causes cognitive deficits and a surplus of unguarded affability.” Well, I guess no one will accuse me of having that disease. Read the article, though, it’s very interesting.

* Vermont Public Television’s sleepy little news show, Vermont This Week, featured some former Vermont journalists who quit the news biz to become flaks for businesses and/or politicians. The panel was comprised of Diane Derby, Darren Allen and Steve Larose. While nothing real earth shattering – or even moderately interesting – came from the show, it was fun to witness the defensive Darren Allen try to stammer around for a coherent thought (ah, just like his columns!). He also got a bit testy at the get go when the host Stewart Ledbetter asked him why he chose to leave journalism and go to the “dark side.” “Well,” snapped Allen, “I’d hardly call working for the people of Vermont going to the dark side.” He’s clearly not getting any smarter in his new job. Because, as the rest of us clearly know, he doesn’t work for the people of Vermont, he works for the Douglas Administration. The people of Vermont would have never hired him. I also have to say that it was odd to see Diane Derby and Darren Allen be lumped together on equal footing as “former Vermont journalists.” Let’s face it, Derby’s got more talent in her pinky finger than Allen has in his entire body. And she didn’t seem to have too much love for Allen during the show, either, barely looking at him while he droned on about whatever the hell he was droning on about – oh yeah, himself (of course).

* Finally, if you’re still under the dopey liberal spell that those “carbon offsets” are anything but complete and total bullshit, check out Tom Friedman’s column in today’s New York Times. Here are the money quotes:

If people really want to generate money to plant trees or finance green power, why not have them offset their real sins, not just their carbon excesses? We started to play with his idea: Imagine if you could offset the whole Ten Commandments.

No, really, think about it. Imagine if there were a Web site — I’d call it GreenSinai.com — where every time you thought you had violated one of the Ten Commandments, or you wanted to violate one of them but did not want to feel guilty about it, you could buy carbon credits to offset your sins…

…Here’s how it would work: One day, you’re out in the backyard mowing the lawn and suddenly you covet your neighbor’s wife. Hey, it happens — that’s why “thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife” is one of the Ten Commandments. No problem. You just go to GreenSinai.com and buy 100 trees in the Amazon or fund a project to capture methane from cow dung in India — and, presto, you’re free and clear.

Obviously there would be a sliding scale. Taking God’s name in vain or erecting an idol might cost you only a few solar water heaters for a Chinese village, whereas bearing false witness or stealing would set you back a pilot sugar ethanol plant in Louisiana.

As for adultery, well, I think that’s where the big money could be made. My guess is that we could achieve a carbon-neutral world by 2020 if we just set up a system for people to offset their adultery by reversing deforestation of tropical rain forests or funding mega wind and solar power systems in China and India.

You people just got a whole hell of a lot more than you deserve. And I hope you realize that. Now, please, leave me alone, I’ve got meds to take and drug-induced dreams to enjoy. In other words, thanks for playing.

Ch...Ch...Ch...China?

2007-06-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

Excuse me, but could someone please tell me what the hell I’m missing when it comes to all this talk about China in Vermont lately? Suddenly, out of nowhere it seems, the business relations between China and Vermont seem to be about the most important thing facing this state. Oh well, I guess that’s what happens when Governor Howdy Doody Douglas decides to gather his throng of faithful journalists, wave his magic wand in front of them, hike his pants up midway to his chest and then repeat these lines until they have no choice but to believe it: “China is important now. Watch me travel to China. Watch me be important in China.”

And the media obliged – again. Leading the way was the embedded Mark Johnson of WDEV fame, who tagged along on the Guv’s China trip thanks to the largesse of the Republican business interests who footed the bill. And then Johnson seemed to don the rosy glasses the Douglas team strapped onto him and issue one rather breathless report after another about the importance of the trip.

But, again, I’m not getting it. And I’m not buying it either, especially when Douglas’ main theme while over there was all about “exporting Vermont’s environmental ethic.” Oh sure, you mean that ethic that seems to be all about his veto of the global warming legislation? Who’s kidding whom here, Guv?

Frankly, this whole China hoopla just feels like one big political charade. Douglas doesn’t have a clue about how to make policy sense out of his “affordability” mantra so the more dopey trips like this with the fawning media pretending that it matters the better. See, Douglas will tell us, I’m on the worldwide cutting edge of…of…oh yeah…affordability. Yeah, that’s it. And he’s right too, especially since the trip didn’t cost him a penny. You go, Guv.

Of course, a trip to China will also make Douglas feel a whole lot better about Vermont’s standard of living, too. I mean, come on, what are all us Vermont workers complaining about? We are, after all, making a hell of a lot more than the Chinese. Ah, affordability issues conquered. Congrats, Guv.

Finally, would it have been too much to ask for Johnson or any other members of the media who regurgitated the Douglas line on China to bring in a few human rights or social justice experts to challenge the rather rosy scenario being painted by the business hawks? Or are we just going to pretend that the exploitation and injustice doesn’t exist just so a few of Douglas’ favorite little business pals can reap millions? Oh yeah, baby, Vermont is sooooo different. Feel the ethic…

I guess I’m just wondering where Mark Johnson is off to next? First it was Chicago. Then it was China. Hmm, it sure looks like he’s got some kind of alphabet thing going on here. Columbia? Costa Rica? Cuba with Brian Dubie?

Nah, I’m betting his next trip is to Shore Acres Inn – gratis once again. Smart guy, for sure.

The Cowardly Lion Dems Strike (Out) Again

2007-06-26T16:54:00.000-07:00

You now, sometimes you just have to give a big “thank you” to the so-called leaders of the Democratic Party. Because, as a blogger in a haze of newness – job, home and all – there’s nothing like the crisp wake-up slap of a Dem leader doing something as stupid as only Dem leaders can do. Ah, thank you Dem leaders – you’re truly the blogger gift that keeps giving.

Of course, my snarky readers will already know what I’m hinting at here: The Dem leaders of the Vermont legislature, Senator Peter “Look at Me” Shumlin and House Speaker Gaye “Don’t Notice Me” Symington, announced today that they’d like everyone who believed their tough-talking rhetoric about taxing the Vermont Yankee nuclear power plant to fund future renewable energy efforts to…well…forgetaboutit. Yep. They issued yet another in a long line of shameless about-faces, thus pulling the rug out from under their increasingly hapless (and dwindling) followers.

Oh boy, ain’t this “veto-proof” Dem majority great! Just feel the power. Not.

Frankly, it’s better to be a little kitten or puppy than a Dem follower these days. I mean, at least the kitties and the puppies have the PETA folks to cry foul when they’re tortured or otherwise mistreated. The Dem followers, on the other hand, continue to get one policy stick after another in the eye and no one seems to give two shits. Hell, it’s actually entertaining at this point. Until, that is, you realize they’re fucking up issues like the war and global warming.

Once again, the guy coming out smelling like a Bush-supporting rose is Governor Jim Douglas. Let’s face it, Douglas has got this game of scaring the wits out of the Dems down pat. All he does is pull his pants up a bit higher, adjust his aw-shucks grin, and say something rather incoherent about “affordability” and – viola! – the Dems cower like sheep in the presence of a wily fox.

What’s really hysterical about this latest Dem cave-in to Douglas’ mere whisper of “boo” is that he’s been in fucking China of late. Usually, when the cat’s away, the mice play. Not with the Dems, though. Surprise, surprise. In this case, the Douglas-cat was away and the little Dem mice busily worked on perfecting their ever-growing legislative coffin. And so it goes, yet another Dem dream lowered into the ground.

And please, dear readers, don’t be fooled by the hype that will be spinning furiously out of the Dem headquarters in the next several days. This is NOT an attempt to put the pressure on Douglas, as they’re already saying. This is NOT some kind of sly strategy to force the governor to do something he doesn’t really want to do. Nope. Instead, it is one thing and only one thing: One big and final cave-in by the Dems in what should be remembered as a most pathetic legislative session. They had the power and they did little but dither, panic, pander and piss it away. Shame on them (again).

Anyone out there ready to launch the first chapter of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Dems? Not me. I’m enjoying the show, just like a snarky boy should.

Head Up My Ass

2007-06-25T15:16:00.000-07:00

Holy shit. Who knew? Not me.

Of course, you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Nope. And, frankly, my week was so goddamn boring that I’m not even sure I’m going to even venture into the new adventures that dominate the new and not-so-improved life of Snarky Boy.

Let’s just say that I’m in an office now. And the office is co-owned by my brother-in-law. And that same brother-in-law is well aware of my Snarky blog (hello, Bro!). In other words, all I really have to say here now about the new job is that it is great, he is great, and everyone there is just fucking great. Yeah right.

Imagine Snarky in his own little cubbyhole. Or, better yet, imagine Snarky in a meeting with a bunch of yuppies – oops, make that, wonderful people – making decisions that basically avoid what the decisions are really about: Getting filthy fucking rich at the expense of others who are already filthy fucking rich. Of course, as a guy who’s spent much of his adult life on a ladder and in a bar, having a savings account seems filthy rich to me – not matter what’s in it.

But I’m in no position to let you in on any more of it right now. Let’s just say that I haven’t made myself indispensable quite yet. In fact, I think I’m already skating on thin ice. Imagine that. But, thanks to my oh-so-sweet Bro, I think I’m being given a few more wrong turns than the average “new hire.”

I will say this: These bastards sure know how to play after work. But instead of heading to Charlie O’s, they put on hundreds of dollars worth of biking clothing and then take frantic rides on bikes that cost more than I used to charge for painting an entire house. Yeah, you’ve seen these fellas on all the roads in and around Montpelier. You can’t miss them – they look like billboards on bicycles, with their shirts, pants and bikes full of logos and the like. Aside from the dopey gear, I really can’t blame these fellas for wanting to go for a screaming bike ride after a day of being totally fucking cooped up in an office and kissing more ass than a group of Vermont reporters kisses at a political press conference. I think the more they sweat the more they forget about the unspeakable boredom of their days.

Oops, but that’s not to say that I’m bored. No way (hey, Bro!). I love it (wink).

The best part of my week was actually getting on a borrowed bike and riding with these clowns. Yep, on Tuesday night Snarky Boy mounted…ahem…a mountain bike and headed to Morse Farm to join the throngs of testosterone-filled boys (and a couple girls) to race. Yeah race. As in, three goddamn times around a 3-mile-plus loop through the woods.

They were all fueled with all kinds of special little (high-priced) concoctions they carry in little plastic flasks. Yours truly was fueled on the pent-up energy from being a newly hired office boy and a rather primitive yearning to force at least one of these “very nice” fellas who told me to do stupid shit all day to taste the mud splattered from my back wheel.

Let me tell you, I missed Charlie O’s. Bad. Real bad. And if it weren’t for my real secret weapon – an iPod with the new White Stripes on continuous play – I would have never made it to the end in front of the one person I really wanted to end in front of. And then I went to Charlie O’s. Whew. There’s nothing like home. But my legs were fucking sore and I couldn’t let the little yups know it.

So I guess this is all just a lame attempt at an apology and an explanation for my wayward ways this week. Again, I appreciate the emails that keep coming in. I will, as always, respond to them as soon as I can.

But I will say this: It sure seems like I’m not alone in my absolute hatred of all things mowing. Perhaps it’s time for a little coalition? My favorite anti-mowing email came from an ever-so-gleeful fella who told me to check out one of those dopey lawns in what we always called the “Cody-ville” section of Elm Street, just north of Montpelier. Ha! It turns out the old bastard got a little overly gleeful with his spring fling with lawn toxins and fried the shit out of one long trip around the outer edge of his lawn. Go check it out for yourselves. It’s on the right as you head out of town. And, while you’re looking at it, imagine how much goddamn therapy the guy needs to get over it. I mean, that lawn is his fucking life.

Speaking of Cody-ville, one of the little brat children who were raised in that section of town, Richard Cody, is now the big-wig in the U.S. Army, assistant chief of staff, to be precise. And it turns out that Montpelier’s own high-powered military man played a key role in getting the general who investigated Abu Ghraib shit-canned. Yep. You can read all about it here, including the not-so-subtle mention of Montpelier’s own General Cody.

Hmm, I wonder why the local media won’t delve into this? Oh yeah, I almost forgot, they’re too busy stuffing their noses up the asses of those in power. Don’t believe me? Just pick up a paper or turn on the radio. Here, for example, is the headline from last week’s Time Argus regarding Governor Douglas: “Study: Douglas Wields Real Power.” The article was penned by Louis Porter, one of the few remaining warm bodies in the news gathering business in the Capital City. Great work, Louis. Now why don’t you write something that will confirm the fact that Leahy, Sanders and Welch are allowed to vote in Congress. You dope.

Let me tell you, you media and political types are lucky the Snarkmaster has been distracted by this new job of mine. But the distraction’s almost over. I’m learning the ropes, gaining some freedom, and seeing the light at the end of that hideous tunnel of learning. You’ve been warned. Because it sure seems like this state needs someone – anyone! – to light the stinkbomb of truth from time to time.

Hang tight. And keep the comments coming to me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

TGIF Blogging -- And Not A Moment Too Soon

2007-06-15T12:19:00.000-07:00

Job procured. Future secured – at least the next month of it. And life carries forward. Whatever. I knew if I got really fucking pathetic here someone would step forward to end the whining and put the meandering snarky one back to work. So, without further hesitation or trepidation, let me say this to all those who sent me tips on how to continue to put one foot another on the sometimes-bizarre trail of life: Thanks.

The best advice I got was this: Just keep doing, no matter what the “doing” is. Yep. I read that book, too: Constructive Living, that is. Fine advice for the times when you find yourself spending too much time doing little but telling the world how little you’re doing. Yawn.

And since I’m not in the mood to write about my next professional adventure that begins on Monday, let’s play the game of “Where in the hell are they now?” The games goes like this: I name someone and you try to quickly tell me – or, rather, anyone who can hear you talking to the computer screen – where they are and what they’ve done for you lately.

So, here we go. Ready? Good. Here’s the first name: Peter Welch.

Holy shit. Did Welch just fall off the face of the planet or what? I’m betting his inner-advisor has advised him to just lay low for a while because the public is really, really sick of him saying the same old shit and doing next to nothing to back up his droning verbiage.

I mean, come on, admit that you feel a bit more at ease with your political life now that you don’t hear Welch’s whining little voice saying: “What we’re doing in Iraq is refereeing a civil war.” He loves that line. But, unfortunately, when it came to doing something about ending the war now, Welch’s high-pitched nothingness just got more high-pitched and more full of nothingness as Nancy Pelosi squeezed a bit harder and forced him to get in line or suffer the committee assignment consequences. And so it went.

And Peter Welch isn’t the only one hiding right now. It appears the whole Democratic Party is in hiding, unfortunately following the internal advice that it’s now best to let the House of Politics just keep burning until the 2008 elections. Solve the problems? Fuck it, they’re telling us, we’re focusing on getting even more power in 2008. For what? Well, of course, to be in a great position to build even more power in 2010. And then? Oh boy, imagine what we could do in 2012 with all that power we garnered in 2010? And so they go, right over the political cliff while those of us with the boot of injustice suffocating us just keep gasping for some semblance of sense. Good luck with that.

Howard Dean let the cat out of the bag earlier this month during his obnoxiously evasive response to President Bush’s weekly radio address. Instead of putting forward an exciting plan to address the issues the people of this nation so obviously want addressed – you know, things like that not-so-little war, the environment, energy policy, jobs, etc. – Dean counseled those clamoring for action to just focus on the 2008 presidential race, without a word about a true and inspired Democratic agenda from now until then.

Did I just put the words “inspired” and “Democratic agenda” together? Sorry about that, it must be the delusional fog one encounters while preparing for a new job. You know the feeling, you pretend you were actually who you were for the interview and then paint everything in that dreamy rose colored hue that says: false, false and false. Whatever.

And while we’re talking about Democrats and the games they play, how about the news that Gaye & (the other) Peter’s big veto override adventure may now last all….summer….long. Yep. Instead of coming back in mid-July to get their asses handed to them, they’ve now apparently decided to keep everything in limbo until September. Hey, what the hell, it’s only the planet burning up, right? Take your time, you dopes. Besides, it’s not as if you’ve got a fallback plan. Or an agenda. Or passion.

Burn baby, burn – the planet, that is.

It’s Friday, damn it. I need a drink. I’ll be seeing you in all the familiar places tonight.

Vic Chesnutt - Robot

2007-06-15T07:58:00.001-07:00

I like when he finally fixes his hat -- sort of. Chesnutt is a genius. I wanted to find him performing "I'll See You Around," but couldn't find it. Look it up at your favorite Web music outlet. Consider it my gift to you. Yet another one. You cheap bastards.

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock

2007-06-13T11:36:00.000-07:00

Well, the bad news is that the phone is still not ringing. The good news is that my frantic mind has decided that a little more blogging might help.

I thought I was going to take some time to listen to Anthony Pollina’s “Equal Time” radio show on WDEV but I just got really fucking sleepy after only three minutes of hearing him somnambulantly explain the current milk pricing woes of dairy farmers. Holy shit, he’s boring. I think all that dairy consumption is only making him slower, too. Imagine how bad he’s going to get when he’s wolfing down all those “natural creemies” he’s starting to market. Which reminds me, what in the hell is a “natural creemie”? I mean, Pollina’s already admitted the diary for the creemies isn’t organic. Worse, Pollina’s creemies are “single-shot” creemies that come “individually-packed” in plastic. How’s that for “natural”? Personally, I think the only way you’re going to get a natural creemie is to put a lactating organic cow on ice and start sucking. Of course, there’s a very good chance the PETA crowd will object but, what the fuck, they bitch about everything.

Wow. Now THAT was a tangent. Sorry about that. But, while we’re on tangent highway, let’s keep looking around.

I’ve decided that I’m going to immediately amend my living will as soon as I figure out how to create a living will in the first place. The amendment is going to read like this: To anyone who knows or comes into contact with me and sees that I own more than one lawn mowing machine and/or use that machine more than once every ten days, you hereby have my permission to take me out of my misery by immediately killing me.

I mean, come on, you’ve seen those old fuckers who are seemingly living for one thing only: mowing the goddamn lawn. And mowing. And mowing. And trimming. And edging. And mowing. And blowing. And fertilizing. And mowing. And de-thatching. And mowing.

The house I’m currently calling home – my sister’s – is surrounded by old maniac mowers. While technically she still lives in town, she’s just outside of town enough for the people to adequately pretend they live in the country. In other words, they’ve all got a few acres and, for some fucked up reason, they’ve not only turned the entire acreage into lawn but they’ve decided the lawn should be cut every…single…day so that it looks like the felt on a pool table rather than anything close to natural. Uh-oh, there’s that word again.

I’m not kidding when I tell you that her most immediate neighbor has been on, pushed or carried about six different grass-killing devices in the week that I’ve been here. Worse, other than when it’s raining, he’s at it EVERY DAY. In other words, there is no peace here because this whacked out old bastard is in one constant Sisyphean battle with the grass. And what’s really pissing me off is that I’ve become obsessed with watching him do little more than mow his way through life, meaning that, in the scheme of things, I’m a bigger loser for watching him mow than he is for mowing. And that just sucks. I mean, I’ve been watching him so much that I can see he’s going over the same places two and three times. And I just don’t want to be worrying about that kind of thing right now.

I’ve never really had much to mow. But, whenever I do mow, I hate it. In fact, this is usually what goes through my mind while I’m mowing: “This is stupid.” Let’s face it, it’s loud, it’s smelly, and it’s all about killing nature and looking like a dog chasing its tail around in circles. Worse, it’s a losing battle because the grass always wins.

But these old fuckers seem to get one hell of a kick out of going around and around as loudly and as often as they can. I guess they all retired from some rote job that they gave 30-plus of their lives to and now mowing just seems like a natural extension to the nothingness of it all. And their wives certainly don’t seem to object – they enjoyed all those years of having them out of the house, damn it. So go mow, you fool! And mow some more! And more! How sad.

So, please, do NOT let me enter this stage of my life. You have my full permission to shoot me if some latent mowing gene starts to kick in during my lifetime.

Fuck, I wish the phone would ring. I’ve got way too much time on my hands. Please, someone help me.

LCD Soundsystem - Movement

2007-06-13T08:50:00.001-07:00

For your listening pleasure -- and turn it up, for crying out loud. Or, better yet, take a stroll through town with it blaring through your earbuds. I did.

Waiting for the Phone to Ring Blogging

2007-06-13T08:20:00.000-07:00

Well, here I sit. Waiting for the phone to ring on two job leads and one apartment lead. So I might as leap into some random blogging to pretend that I’m getting something done. Oh yeah, feel the accomplishment, baby.

In last night’s post I made a quip about the new surly Montpelier cops being much different than they were during my juvenile delinquent days. And this morning I wake up to this headline from the Times Argus: “Shocking Plan: Montpelier Police Want Tasers.” Yikes. I told you they were a new surly bunch. Now, what in the hell do the Montpelier police need tasers for? Those kids on skateboards hanging at the City Center? This is just ridiculous.

But we really know what this is all about: Munitions envy. Yep. The Montpelier cops have heard that other departments have the tasers – big tasers! – and now they want one in their pants, too.

The City Council will be addressing the issue tonight at 7:40 if anyone else with a modicum of sense would like to stand up against random electric shock therapy dispensed by the police at will.

And if you’re lacking that modicum of sense, take note of Amnesty International’s call for a moratorium on the use of the Tasers. Here’s what AI’s Josh Rubenstein told the TA: “Too often it simply becomes used like it’s a toy and it’s a serious weapon.”

If the Montpelier police want something bigger in their pants, opt for the penis enlargements. I hear the Hardwick cops are all doing it…

Speaking of the Times Argus, I was shocked – I mean shocked! – to wake up this morning and not see a single word about Jackson Browne or Barre’s LACE. Certainly they could have come up with a follow-up to the four other follow-ups to the hoopla, no? You know, something like: Zevon family still tired and happy. Oh yeah, they already did that – twice.

Oh sure, it’s great to see what they’re doing in Barre. But being the snarky bastard that I am, I was waiting to read or hear one tiny mention of the fact that the hero of the event – Browne – was a girlfriend beater. Yeah, you remember that sordid little beating episode he had with his lover at the time, Darryl Hannah, don’t you? But that was all yesterday’s news. Today – well, last week -- the get-tough-on-crime Mayor of Barre, Little Thommy Lauzon, is power-washing the Opera House to welcome the man who whacked the hottie. Go figure.

That should be enough snark to hold you over for a while. And, by the way, thanks for all the emails. I’ll respond to them as soon as I can. In the meantime, keep ‘em coming at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Playing Hooky with the Family

2007-06-12T18:42:00.000-07:00

What a day. A dream, actually. Instead of pounding the pavement and tending to life’s little necessities – jobs and such – I got to play Mr. Uncle with my nine-year old niece all day. And while, in theory, I was playing the “adult” figure, it’s pretty clear my emotional IQ is a good several dozen or so points below hers. Surprise, surprise.

The idea for this rather random day was hatched at bedtime in my sister’s home last night. As you’ll recall, it’s the same place I’m calling home while I’m still putting the pieces of my life back together after my random and haphazard trip to the coast last month. I know, I know, I promised to fill you in on the details but, frankly, it’s all still a little bit raw to delve into. Give me time. It’ll come.

At bedtime last night, my niece was lamenting the thought of another day of school on a beautiful June day. And I didn’t help matters by proclaiming that when I was her age we never went to school in June – or August, for that matter. Or at least I don’t think we did. But when I told her about the camp on Curtis Pond that I worked at yesterday and how I was planning to sneak back up there for some solitude and a swim before the owners arrive in the evening, the little lobbyist in her kicked in.

“Can I go with you?” began the first rather innocent lob in what would eventually snowball into a campaign that would put the Kimball, Sherman & Ellis clan to shame. I swear, if any of us really want something done in the legislature, all we have to do is hire about a dozen nine-year olds, put an idea in their heads – you know, something like: shut down the Vermont Yankee – and then just let them run free in the State House until they get what they want. And, trust me, they’ll get what they want.

I was hip to her joining me from the get-go. And her father didn’t seem to be putting up much of roadblock, either. But, then again, being the distracted business-guy-dad, he pretty much rolls with anything that allows him time to focus on making even more money. The biggest obstacle was the Mommy/Sister. And we had one big thing in our favor: Wine. Oh yeah, Sis had a couple glasses of wine after dinner – probably to deal with my lovely presence. Lucky for us, the flip of her mood coin during this particular encounter with wine landed on the carefree side. Whew.

And so it was approved: Uncle Snarky and the darling little one would join forces to become – for “one day only,” according to Sis – Team Trouble. Cool.

We biked. Swam. Pretended to be the King and Princess of our Camp Trouble. And talked. And talked. And talked. She especially loves the stories about the trouble her mother and I got into as kids in the same town she’s now growing up in.

Her all-time favorite is the time we were coming home from a high school party and decided to steal one of those orange blinking lights that’s attached to the saw-horse-like contraptions. You know, the things they place near holes in the road. Well, the problem with putting one of those in the backseat of your car and riding through town with it at 1:00 am is that the orange blinking light really gives you away. And while we were nearly pissing our pants from the fun of it all, the cop who pulled us over didn’t find it so funny. But, Montpelier being what Montpelier was then – before the really surly cops who are apparently pretending they’re in a bigger city took over – we got little more than a half-stern lecture, a trip back to where we got it, and an escort home.

Like I said, it was a great day. And she’s a great kid – with some good snarky potential. But the best part was that I kept my head out of the news, thus unencumbered by the ninniness of the day. How refreshing. You don’t even need to read the news anymore to know exactly what’s happing in the political world. It’s the same thing every day: The Dems bark, the Republicans bite back, and the rest of us get the fucking bill for the entire charade. Ho-hum.

Perhaps the biggest lesson of the day for me was this: Nine-year olds have a hell of a lot of energy. I’m wiped.

We’ll talk some more tomorrow. Thanks for playing.

Late Night with Snarky: On Rock, Flag-Flyers, and Leahy & Freyne (In other words: More Than You Deserve)

2007-06-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, the contest is over. The Dinosaur Jr. contest, that is. Who knew that so many of you dear readers knew that the fella in the previously posted Dinosaur video was Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth fame. In fact, at least three of you went further, informing the snarky one that the video was filmed in Moore’s home and the young girl in the video is the twelve-year old daughter of Moore and his bandmate/wife Kim Gordon. I guess the kid’s got some mighty fine rockin’ genes there. Moore’s obviously a huge Dinosaur fan, accurately describing the band as “a wash of music that makes your teeth hurt.” Yep.

And if you think I’m just some kind of washed up, ex-rocker, painter guy who can’t take the decibels any longer, well, you’re right. But that’s not where I was going with that. Nope. Instead, I was aiming to let you know that the Higher Ground management had this message taped to the entrance of the show last night: “Warning: Tonight’s show is extremely loud. Ear plugs are for sale at the ticket counter for $1.”

Now how cool is that? At the same time you plunk down $20 to see some aging rockers, you slip them another dollar for the earplugs. Go figure.

And they weren’t kidding about the noise level either. My ears are still ringing – and I was wearing the ear condoms. While it was great to turn my back on life’s little distractions – you know, things like where to live and where to work – the best part of the show for me was the Spinal Tap-like moments. First of all, J Mascis, the lead singer and guitarist, is about 3,743 bong hits over what was needed for his lifetime of self-medication. And then throw in 25 years of absolute ear-piercing rock and you get a guy who mumbles, continues to turn it up louder, and slowly bobs from side to side even though the music is going at about 20 times his bobbing rate. Better yet, you get this kind of dialogue with J during the show: “Alright.” Oh yeah, and then there was this long discourse before the last song: “We’ve got time for one more.” Time? It was fucking 11:30 in rock land, my friend. What, did he have a meeting to get to?

During the second song of the set a small line of smoke began to appear on stage. At first, I thought it was just some lame stage theatrics. Until, that is, the roadies began scrambling to the amp and yanking all the cords out of it. The thing was on fire. Worse, everyone in the place except J – the guy playing through it – noticed it. He took notice – still in the middle of the song – when the roadie hoisted a new amp up on the ridiculously large collection. Seeing the new amp, J promptly moved over to it and rather vigorously cranked the volume to its peak. Rock on. Spinal Tap lives!

For most of the day, in fact, I think my ears were about the only part of me that was alert. No bother, though, because this painter boy has still not found a painting gig. Instead, it appears I’m in the pity zone by getting offers like I did today: Getting a camp on Curtis Pond ready for the soon-to-be-arriving owners. Easy work. Seasonal, as they say. And, of course, it’s an absolute hoot to see how the other side lives from time to time.

The camp owners who employed Snarky for an afternoon actually own three homes. Or so I’m told by the middleman who lined the gig up for me. In addition to the Curtis Pond digs, these tony folks also own a home in Bar Harbor, Maine and Fairfield, Connecticut. And, according to their neighbors, they still complain about the taxes. That’s called balls.

But I got it done – even hanging the fucking flag up on the porch for them. Oh, how the rich love America! Well, as long as the poor bastards are fighting their wars and prepping their second and third homes. Whatever.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this country, too. In fact, I love it so much I think it’s essential to keep making it better. Too many of these flag flyers, however, seem to think we’ve reached our pinnacle of greatness – not to mention justice. In other words, they’ve got what they need and fuck the rest of us. They were the same kind of people who got all bitchy and itchy with their trigger fingers when the slaves said “fuck off,” the suffrage movement said “bug off,” and the civil rights folks said “move over.”

Besides, what’s the big deal about flying the flag? Is it to remind them where they live? Senile old bastards. I’d be impressed if these oh-so-proud Americans took their flag-flying SUVs and RVs to Baghdad for a little patriotic parade. Go ahead, it’s the least you could do if you really believe in the bullshit going on over there. I dare you.

Speaking of the bullshit going on over there, have you been seeing how far Peter Freyne is willing to shove his bulbous head up Pat Leahy’s ass? Fuckin’ A, the guy has no shame. I really hope the Leahy staff is counting Freyne’s fawning publicity as a campaign contribution.

This time, Freyne’s toting the Leahy line that it’s not fair that anti-war activists are targeting Vermont’s federally elected officials – and not Governor Douglas -- in their efforts to stop the war. And, as usual, Douglas has the best retort:

Well, I expect that the protesters are interested in the congressional offices because they [the congressional delegation] have something to say about it, whereas I don’t. They’re the ones who authorize military action, authorize the expenditures for that action. I think their concern is directed appropriately.

Yep. And I guess someone should tell that to Leahy and Freyne. Actually, just tell Leahy and then Freyne will certainly just absorb the news through his perch in Leahy’s sphincter.

Sure, Douglas should be getting shit for being a Bush-loving Republican – that’s a no-brainer. And it’s been done at Vermont sites like this. But Freyne always seems to think that if he didn’t say it or make a stupid pun out of it then it doesn’t exist. What do they call that? Oh yeah: Narcissism.

Earth to Leahy (and those occupying his ass): The anti-war protesters are targeting you, Sanders and Welch because – as Douglas said – you have the power to cut off the funding for this war. Duh. And it was your political party that ran on a platform in 2006 that promised to END THE WAR. Remember that? We do. Just as we also know that any one of you could launch a mighty fine filibuster of any more war funding whenever you find the courage to match your rhetoric. Doulgas can’t do that – you can. And we’re waiting.

Enough already. I’ve got to get some sleep. Are the peepers still out or are my ears still ringing?

And, by the way, keep those quips, tips and comments coming my way via email at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Thanks for playing.

Snarky Boy's NIght Out with Dinosaur Jr.

2007-06-11T08:29:00.001-07:00

Yep. Last night. At Higher Ground. Me and the others who wanted to remember the Dinosaur Jr. we knew in 1988. Poor fellas. Ten bonus Snarky points to anyone who can name the fella in the video who tells the kids to play Dinosaur Jr.

Turn it up. They did. Ouch.

TGIF Blogging (And Making No Friends)

2007-06-08T08:13:00.000-07:00

Wow. You WERE still reading. Now I really feel shitty for abandoning you for all those days. Yeah right. After trudging through a couple of posts I got an email box full of “welcome back” notes. And the absolute worst part of it all was that many of them were actually sincere. Ew. But, thankfully, I got the ample servings of vindictive jabs that truly make the Snarky heart go pitter-patter. I’ll tell you what, you people can be pretty damn creative when telling me where to stick certain things. But, be warned, one of my all-time favorite books is Henry Miller’s “Under the Roofs of Paris,” thus I’m already very well versed in where and how to stick those certain things.

Speaking of where to stick things, it looks like its that time of year when my fellow narcissistic bloggers stick themselves in front of the mirror, gush and glow over what they see, and then beg you to vote for them as the 7 Daze blog of the year. It’s actually kind of gross. Don’t believe me? Click here and here for a sampling. And in case you didn’t catch all the self-love going on, click back to those sites and consider the photos. Yes, those photos of THEMSELVES. Fuck, who needs a mirror when you’ve got a blog? Like I said earlier, ew.

Sorry, but we’re going to stick with the local blog scene here for just a few more moments. Since I’ve been back from my computer-less trip, I broke my rule about not visiting the ninnies in the Vermont blogosphere. I guess I was actually thinking that I might have missed something – I’m blaming the ocean air for that one. Well, unless you consider Odum over at GMD dreaming about Pat Leahy as missing something, I didn’t miss anything.

I was actually informed of the Odum (wet) dream by a reader who was inquiring about my whereabouts. Let’s just say that breakfast wasn’t a part of this reader’s morning after reading about Odum in his jammies. Only Odum would be excited to have a dream about being in his nightclothes and have Pat Leahy come to the door. Well, and maybe Baruth. And Freyne. But definitely not Resmer.

If these boys with their hard-ons for Leahy and anything with a pulse that carries a Democratic membership card would introduce themselves to a notion known as critical thinking from time to time, they might do what the New York Times did this morning. In case you haven’t seen it yet, the Times’ editorial board told the man in Odum’s dreams to basically shit or get off the pot when it comes to his subpoena threats. And it’s about time someone called Leahy’s bluff on this one.

Leahy, as we all should know since he’s been telling us every time there’s a camera or microphone in front of him, is trying to put the brakes on the runaway train known as the Bush Administration. But, like the Democrats’ efforts to stop the war (how’s that going?), Leahy is more bark than bite. He seems to think, for example, that just by inconveniencing these felons with polite invitations to sit before his Judiciary Committee that they’ll somehow cower into liberal submission. Good luck with that.

Instead of submitting to Pat’s whims, they either ignore him or appear before his committee and make complete asses of themselves like Alberto Gonzales did and then get a “big thumbs up” from the Prez. And around and around we go. Like so much of what the Dems have been doing for decades, it’s just nibbling around the edges – just enough for a huffing and puffing photo-op and nothing more.

And the Times -- like most of us -- has had enough. Better late than never. Here’s the money quote from this morning’s editorial:

It is time for Senator Patrick Leahy, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, to deliver subpoenas that have been approved for Karl Rove, former White House counsel Harriet Miers and their top aides, and to make them testify in public and under oath.

Well, yeah. But don’t expect to hear much about this in Vermont – especially in the blogosphere. It just wouldn’t fit into Odum’s dreams, Baruth’s too busy preening for another photo-op and campaigning for meaningless awards and Freyne hasn’t said a negative word about Leahy since one of his staff members took the glass of Wild Turkey out of his hand in 1989.

Oh fuck it, I’ve got to go look for a job. Not to mention an apartment.

When The President Talks To God

2007-06-07T12:31:00.001-07:00

And around and around we go...

2007-06-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

Did you ever fall off the merry-go-round as a kid? If so, you’ll know – like I do – how fucking hard it is to get back on while the thing is whizzing by you. At first, you immediately try to grab on to anything – anything! – to get back into the fun. But then – for me, at least – the outer body experience started to kick in and then I became fixated on merely witnessing the others trying to have fun. Or, should I say, as fun as going around and around and getting nowhere can be. Perhaps that’s why they’re screaming. Whatever.

I didn’t fall off the blogosphere as much as I got pushed. Well, that’s not quite right, either. Truth be told, I jumped. With one big gleeful yell to the stars, I jumped into the never-never land of walking away from everything and everyone I knew.

I’ve done it before. Too frequently, in fact. But it never seems to bother me as much as it bothers those around me. I’m used to it. And I know when I’m jumping ship – even if I rarely know where I’m landing.

We’ll call this jump number 137 for those keeping track at home. And what a fucking jump it was. I felt the odd urge coming on in the early spring. If you’ve ever felt it, you know it. You know what it means. You know that it’s about to take over. And you know that the character that is just “you” is changing. Or perhaps just yearning for a change. Most of the time we fight it. We shake it off with the routine of just being you – a cup of coffee or beer in a familiar place, a run-in with an old friend, a phone call from someone counting on you being you, or the alarm clock telling you it’s time to be you by getting your ass to work.

Every once in a while, if you’re me, at least, you take the jump, walk away from just being you and seeing what it is like not being you. And the euphoria of not being you takes over at first. How delightful it is to shed your old skin, to ignore the pile of to-do’s gathering in your mind, to pretend all your calls and messages are simply wrong numbers or mistaken identities, and to simply start over.

And so went my mood several weeks ago as I sat at my favorite watering hole. The character that was me felt worn out. Worse, it felt heavy. Like the merry-go-round, around and around I went: painting, drinking, writing, wondering and wandering. It was all so predictable and rote.

But that was all about to change. In fact, everything was about to change. I had no idea I was moments away from meeting someone who would entice me to walk away from everything, take one hell of a frenetic trip to the coast, and then return with little more than the stories of the jump and the adventures that followed.

Oh sure, we’ll get to that part – soon enough. But those stories will have to wait a bit. Because I’m now in that rather messy zone of trying to put things back together. In the week that I’ve been back, I’ve already worn out my welcome at my friend’s place, getting that all-too-familiar “you’ve got to move on, man” talk. Worse, what I thought at the time to be a rather cool farewell to two clients counting on my painting prowess turned out to be not so cool after all. So not cool, in fact, that I not only lost those clients but several more who got wind of my disappearance and, as they said, “went in other directions.” Read: Anyone but Snarky.

But I have no regrets. I needed a break. And a change. And I got all that and one hell of an adventure, too. So what if I’m now calling my sister’s guestroom home for the time being. It was all worth it.

Stay tuned.

Shhh...

2007-06-06T06:41:00.001-07:00

Shhh…be quiet. Real fucking quiet. We don’t want to wake the ninnies. You see, I’ve spent several weeks trying to get them off my trail. Let’s face it, they’re a drag to have around. They send me little emails that say things like, “why don’t you be someone other than who you are?” Whatever. But then they start to multiply like rabbits. Worse, they start to let their ninny rabbit offspring know about you and your email address. Then, the next thing you know, you’re being overwhelmed by the conspiracy theories of the tiny-brained ninny rabbit fucks. Trust me, it’s ugly. But the good news is that they have very short attention spans. Their ideas rarely reach the ripe age of ten minutes, especially in the Internet age when a simple Google inquiry can send them off in a million directions at any given moment. And so they sit, Googling, giving birth to very bad notions, and accumulating the email addresses of those they think are their audience. And on and on it goes. To be trapped in the nexus of the ninnies is daunting, with only one real solution: disappear long enough for them to forget about you.

Let’s hope they’ve forgotten about all of this. Because I just want to start over. It’s been a really weird Spring. I’ve been on a long journey in a huge and calamitous mission to flee the skin that identifies me as me. But, as usual, it didn’t work and I’m still me – but now without a job, without my old apartment, and with little but the memories of one hell of a journey that took me from a night at my favorite watering hole to Maine with a new found friend. I kissed everything goodbye for the sake of a journey. I disappeared. I threw it all to the wind. And now I’m back. Sort of.

I’ve got a lot to tell you about. But we’ll have to go slow. I’ll slip in the stories when I can. But my priorities for the moment are finding a place other than my friend’s sofa to call “home,” to beg for forgiveness from my painting clients on Liberty Street, and to ponder the imponderables of a strange journey.

I appreciate all the non-ninny emails I got over the last several weeks. And I apologize for responding to none of them. Patience, my friends, patience. I’ll get to it sooner or later.

Welcome back.

Remembrance of Things Past

2007-05-17T09:53:00.000-07:00

Oh fuck, where were we? Oh yeah, now I remember. We were going through the motions of entertaining ourselves with ripe little thoughts about getting somewhere. Anywhere, really. Just not here. But there. Yeah, over there. Been there? Yep. Done that. Whatever.

But it’s still not clear to me. I’m having a foggy notion of thinking about stopping the war. And I’ve got a vague recollection of having hopes for impeachment. But I’m not sure. It all feels like a bad dream. Shit, I even think I got arrested. Oh damn, not that again.

Now, let’s see. I remember frantically searching out computers in the middle of a painter’s workday to speak with you about the current events swirling around us in this capital city. And I remember getting all kinds of emails from readers telling me sweet little things like, “shut the fuck up you loser.” Yeah, I definitely remember that. Kind of.

Oh yeah, and I remember reading other Vermont blogs and thinking, “why can’t my life be that simple?” I mean, I’d love to think the Dems had all the answers. Or that more photos of myself posted on the Web could be interesting to someone – anyone. Or that Bernie Sanders is God. Imagine how good it would feel to give two thumbs up to Patrick Leahy and then go back to bed – or the bottle. And just think how much of a relief it would be to let yourself say this to the Vermont political world: “I think we should just give Peter Welch some time.”

Life would be easy. I would, for example, be really content with the do-nothing legislature. I’d think Peter Freyne was still relevant. I wouldn’t notice Jim Douglas’ doublespeak. I’d think it was sunny and warm today and everyday.

Yep, now it’s all coming back to me. I’m the guy who didn’t drink the Vermont Kool-Aid. I’m the fart at the party. I’m the hair in the Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food. I’m the udder pus in the Cabot Cheese. I’m the man without a political party.

I’m just Snarky Boy.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

The Bastard Fairies - Whatever

2007-05-17T09:08:00.001-07:00

The Bastard Fairies -- We're All Going to Hell

2007-05-16T13:31:00.001-07:00

Hey folks. I'm still alive. And thinking of Jerry Falwell. This one's for him.

(I'll be back to explain my absence soon.)

Landscaping with Snarky (reenactment)

2007-05-04T04:57:00.001-07:00

Oh, The Joys of Gardening (and more...)

2007-05-03T06:13:00.000-07:00

Wow. This gardening thing ain’t half bad. Look how much fun we were having! Boy, I’ll tell you, the ladies of the house never come out to dance like that with painters. Never. It must be something about the soil and the nature of it all.

Okay, okay, so it wasn’t all one big nude dance and a face full of bong hits. Hardly. It was fucking work. And the only lady who came out to visit with us was the madam of the house who dressed in the kind of cartoonish neck to toe gentry garb that one can regularly see on House Speaker Gaye Symington. Yeah, you know the style: The kind that screams, “I am really, really uptight and proper.” Quick, someone hand her a laxative.

But, with her lips held as tight as everything else in her body, the oh-so-proper lady of the house pointed demonstratively here and there as she rattled off the names of plants I’d never heard of. At that moment, my only task was to keep from being a smartass, keep my mouth shut and aid in the continuing charade that the foreman of this crew had assembled the most expert mulch movers in all of Vermont. Oh yeah, baby, we’re good.

Soon enough, the finger pointing and flower name-dropping would end and off she’d go, back into the mansion of leisure where – from time to time – we’d find her sneaking peeks at our progress. I’m guessing that she didn’t have any pants on at those moments. But it’s just a guess.

I’m going to give this the four or five days I promised and not a day more. Well, unless they ask me to leave before then, a not-so-unlikely scenario if I continue to confuse weeds with prized perennials. Oops. Or, more likely, if I decide to become a wise-ass with the lady of the house in an attempt to squeeze a moment of spontaneity out of her. It’s got to be in there somewhere. And why, oh why, do people like that make me want to find it?

The good news is that landscapers – like painters – enjoy an after work romp through the bars. And the better news is that the politicos seemed to be out in full force last night, all revved up about the quickening pace of the legislative session as the end nears. And the best news is that the liquor was doing its trick on these fellas and their lips were singing into the ears of Snarky Boy. Oh how they like to play, and here’s what was on their minds:

* On the issue of who in the hell the Dems will put up to run against Governor Douglas, one insider knowingly offered one name that I haven’t heard yet: Chuck Ross. Yep, the Chuck Ross who’s been attached to Senator Patrick Leahy for years and, before that, was a legislator and, even before that, was a farmer. Nice credentials for a Dem that will be largely sacrificial. Ross, according to this person in the know, won’t have much to lose since he can always climb back on the Leahy gravy train after taking one for the team in an effort to put some dents in the Douglas armor. It’s this lack of a fall-back plan that will stop the other rumored candidates from walking off the end of the political dock by taking on Douglas, especially Jeb Spaulding, Deb Markowitz and Bill Sorrell. But, remember, there are always what the insiders are calling the “retreads,” Parker and Dunne. Yawn.

* The biggest source of entertainment for the inside the Statehouse crowd yesterday came from the attempts by the right-to-life wingnuts to attach their parental notification bill onto the medical marijuana legislation. Hey, at least they can recognize winning legislation when they see it. Because that’s what this act of desperation was all about. It’s a cold and lonely time for the right-wingers at the Statehouse – unless you live in the Governor’s office – and they tried to jump on the moving pot train to pretend they’re getting somewhere. Good luck with that. And Speaker Symington did the stunningly obvious thing of declaring that the two pieces of legislation shouldn’t be mixed. Duh. But I guess if you’re a Statehouse rat these kinds of ironies make you giggle. Whatever.

* I asked a right-leaning lobbyist if there was anything the super-majority Dems have done this session to squeeze Douglas. His response? Hearty laughter and one big “hell no!” And then he made a reference to the Dems and their recent attempts to make an issue out of that the fact that the official vehicle that Douglas is driven around in was a day overdue on its registration. “If that’s all they’ve got, bring it on,” was his conclusion. He’s got a point. That vehicle thing was just stupid. And, as usual, Douglas made them look stupid for trying to make it an issue. His response? “It’s not my car.” Come on, Dems, you can do better than that.

* Finally, I asked an elected Dem why House-leader Symington was getting more flack than Senate-leader Shumlin. “Because,” he said with a grin, “Shumlin’s more fun.” And, I might add, he buys beers for the boys at McGillicuddy’s. I think Gaye needs to borrow that limitless credit card from her millionaire hubby, Chuck Lacy, and get to the bars if she wants to salvage the session – reputation wise, that is. Oh yeah, and it wouldn’t hurt if the Dems tried to really address and fight for an issue from time to time. Okay, maybe just once. Yeah, we’ll start there. Good luck with that.

Oh hell, I’ve got to get to work. And what a day to be outside. Enjoy.

[Email me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

Wednesday Morning Random Blogging (Just Read It!)

2007-05-02T06:45:00.000-07:00

Good morning, class. I hope you all had a good night of rest, a fine breakfast and all the wholesome love and attention you deserve as fine little servants of the capitalist democracy. Because you’re about to get yet another hyper and heaping spoonful of snark – straight, no chaser. Worse, I haven’t got much time so there won’t be any of those dopey moments of reflection whereby the inner-Snarky pauses to ask that most annoying question in all of creative writing: “You can’t say that, can you?” Fuck yeah. I can say anything I want. It’s my blog toy – not yours.

And why, I hear you asking, is Snarky Boy in such a hurry this morning? Well, thanks for asking. Because in my night of reverie (I know, I know, Mom, it was a Tuesday night but I was bored), I bumped into a most fun-loving group of local landscapers who were letting it rip after a frantic day of “prepping the gardens” for the kind of people who hire other people to – well – prep their gardens.

And what do you get when you mix an overworked landscaping crew, an underemployed painter, and more than a few games of fun-loving pool with beer as the golden lubricator? A job, motherfuckers. Yep. The Snarky Boy is donning a new hat today as a landscaper to the rich. Imagine that.

It’s what we at the bottom of the working barrel call a “win-win” situation. They need a live body with four working limbs and I need some work to hold me over until I start my summer of re-painting Liberty Street. Nice to meet you, fellas. And off we’ll go…

I, of course, know nothing about landscaping. But I know how to get on my knees (don’t ask) and I know how to manage a shovel, rake and wheelbarrow. I was told last night that my primary task would be mulch moving. Whatever. Just show me the money.

Someday, you know, I’m going to get a real job that is a couple more rungs up the ladder from the equivalent of a prison work crew. I promise. But, for now, I’m just wondering where in the hell my non-white overalls are for this kind of work. I can’t, you know, show up looking like a painter who’s just lost in the gardens. The police would likely be called --- that or the State’s mental health unit. And would they believe me if I declared my name to be Chaunce?

But, before I ransack the creepy closet for something gardener-like to wear, let’s rip through some news:

Bush vetoed the Dems war-funding plan. No surprise there. But how gross was it to hear Bush talk about “early withdrawals”? Ew. Sorry, George, but that’s what Laura dreams about. Well, actually, she probably hopes you never enter. I can here her now: “Oh, George, can’t you go do Condi again?”

But the most hysterical part of Bush’s silly little veto message was his reference to an early withdrawal plan leading to “chaos” in Iraq. What the fuck? Does this man ever watch the news? Ladies and gentlemen, we are a nation being led by a complete and total ass-face. And, yes, it is time to hit the panic button. Now.

Oh yeah, that panic button is the rather orderly process called impeachment. And, oh yeah, the navel-gazing Dems still think it’s an irrational option to an ape-shit crazy maniac. Go figure.

Speaking of the Dems, get ready to watch them fold like a cheap suit in this little game of chicken they’re playing with Bush. In fact, the rhetoric of retreat that they speak so well has already begun. Joe Biden, for example, is now calling the “deadlines” in the funding bill mere “target dates.” Yep. Beep, beep, beep and back they go. That was hard to predict. Not.

Oh, and how is that great Leahy attack on the Justice Department going? While the Vermont Dems continue to piss themselves with excitement over St. Pat’s national huffing and puffing, let me remind them that the prosecutors who were fired remain fired and Gonzales is still proudly showing up to work everyday as the Attorney General. So about the only thing that has changed is that the Vermont liberal elite has now added another ring around St. Pat’s halo. Yawn.

So are you starting to see the pattern here, boys and girls? The people – yeah us – see very clearly that this war must be stopped now and that Bush must be chased from the White House. But the Dem ninnies who are supposed to be representing us just keep doing anything and everything BUT what we’re asking for. Instead, they’re posing and preening for the cameras in one desperate attempt after another to act like they’re listening and feeling our pain.

Yo Pat, Bernie and Peter: Fuck the hearings. We want action. And we want it now.

Finally, speaking of con games, the New York Times’ Andrew Revkin wrote a nice little article on Sunday that poked some mighty fine holes in this stupid “carbon-neutral” game that our own Peter Welch is so faithfully playing. Yeah, you know the game, it’s where rich kids like Pete pay to pollute. It’s the latest in the great liberal-guilt-reduction game.

Here’s how Revkin quotes Dennis Hayes of Earth Day fame (another silly hoax – one fucking day?) on the carbon-neutral scam:

The worst of the carbon-offset programs resemble the Catholic Church’s sale of indulgences back before the Reformation. Instead of reducing their carbon footprints, people take private jets and stretch limo, and then think they can buy an indulgence to forgive their sins.

Yep, that’s how millionaires like Welch think. Life’s one big payoff!

Speaking of millionaires, I’ve got to go pull their weeds. Perhaps I’ll take a piss where I’m not supposed to….

Snark on. And keep writing me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Knock, Knock, Knocking on Welch's Door...

2007-05-01T12:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, I hear you loud and clear. And it sounds like this: Quit your bitchin’ Snarky Boy. Fine. You won’t hear another peep out of me about the unseemly business side of the ever-growing Snarky empire. Nope. Instead, you will simply await the grand surprise of the goodies to come. But, to quickly break the promise of only 27 or so words ago, I still await the little bird that wants to land on my shoulder and say: I want to play with Snarky Boy because I know Wordpress and the Web enough to make it one big fucking hoot. There. Done.

The good news is that I’m in one foul snarky-assed mood. Yep. Triple dose of snarkiliciousness coming your way. Buckle up.

Let’s start with Peter Welch. What the fuck is it about this guy that just makes me want to hate him? Oh yeah, he’s the embodiment of every little prick-know-it-all that we all knew in school. He was the kid, for example, who always had his homework done and – worse – joined the teacher in giving the rest of us that smug little look that said: “Why are you underachieving?”

And for purposes of my own battered self-esteem (fuck you, Wordpress), I’m going to ignore the fact that Welch went on to be a congressman and I’m an underemployed painter for now. I mean, who cares if that “why are you underachieving?” look was a sixth-grade prophecy? I can still hate him for it, you know. Hey, why stop underachieving now, baby.

Welch is on my mind because I was just absolutely tortured by the interview the increasingly inarticulate Anthony Pollina did with him on WDEV this afternoon. Welch basically practiced the art of filibustering with Pollina, gobbling up the minutes with his whiny little voice regurgitating the same old same old. Yawn.

Here’s a recap: It’s all Bush’s fault. Everything. Never mind that the Dems have been handing Bush those “blank checks” that Peter pretends to be opposed to. Oh yeah, and never mind that even though Peter the Pelosi-Puppet blames everything on Bush and is convinced he’s trashed the Constitution, broken laws and the nation’s trust, he doesn’t think impeachment is a good idea. Go figure.

And of course Pollina and his three-steps behind thinking never could quite catch up with Welch’s rambling to ask him anything challenging – let alone coherent. Sometimes I think the Progs are Progs just because it seems fashionable and hip rather than because they have any fundamental beliefs to set themselves apart from the two-party duopoly. Because why else would Pollina, the sleeping granddaddy of the Progs now that Bernie dances so comfortably with the Dems, be so bland and unchallenging to the Dem congressman? I mean, Welch gets more grief in the mainstream media than he got going toe-to-toe with the Prog man. Weird.

Speaking of Welch and grief, it’s nice to see that the Vermont impeachment crowd is, indeed, taking aim at Welch this week. Well, kind of. Because the first thing they’re planning to do is aim to knock on Welch’s door and request a little chat. I guess they’ve got a lot of time on their hands because it’s pretty damn clear that Peter will pull out his auto-responder-template and say something really close to these words (accompanied, of course, by the grade school look discussed earlier): “Oh, there’s no one in Vermont who is working harder against the presidency of George Bush than I am.”

But then he’ll go into a litany of hearings, bills, and anecdotes that will put the room into nothing short of a deep state of somnolence, only able to come back to semi-consciousness at the sound of his goddamn dog barking because it’s not only bored, too, but it also has to take a piss.

And then Welch will make his first major stumble of his term – notwithstanding his war-funding vote and his shameful pursuit of the Bush autograph – and blurt out these uncharacteristically honest lines: “You know, I owe my current job to two beings: That damn dog and President Bush.”

It’s a good thing most everyone in the room will be fast asleep and miss this rare moment of Peter candor. Too bad.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Peter the Pelosi-Puppet will be meeting with the impeachment crowd later this week so he can be annoyingly condescending to them and have yet another opportunity to take a warm piss on the left. Thanks for coming!

Unfortunately, given the chipper-chirpy nature of the impeachment leadership, the warm piss will be greeted with little more than enthusiastic “thank yous” all around and a promise to continue to be oh-so-fucking happy to stop their lives, spend their time and money, and otherwise inconvenience themselves so that Welch can continue to ignore them.

They won’t, for example, be the least bit insulted by Peter’s use of the old trick amongst smarmy representatives that goes like this: Tell the angry mob to take their anger elsewhere but to keep in touch and – most importantly – keep the pressure on. It’s like yelling to the schmuck knocking at the door that you’ve got no intention of answering it but keep knocking!

Let’s hope the impeachment folks don’t fall for the old trick and, instead, refuse to leave the very nice meeting until Peter does what he should instead of issuing them more democracy homework. But, sadly, I think the impeachment movement has come to its dead end. Like the Vermont antiwar movement, the passions and dreams of this movement will be largely extinguished by the three-dollar-bill promises and faux-sincerity of Welch. And the closer we get to the next election, the less the libs are going to want to rock the boat. They’ve got Kool-Aid to make, baby! Not to mention Bush-bogeyman posters!

It’s the elections that matter, we’ll all soon be told over and over again. Forgetting, of course, that not much seems to be happening between the elections. Well, other than rearranging the deck furniture on the sinking ship. Gurgle. Gurgle.

Help Wanted

2007-05-01T07:38:00.000-07:00

Oh holy hell. Yes, holy hell. The holiest of hellishly holy hells. Or, if you’d rather: fuck it. Yep, that’s the mood again this morning as I attempt the ghastly task of upgrading the Snarky Boy website for you, dear readers. And so, with lots of unsnarky humbleness, I issue this plea to the great web community: HELP! Specifically, I need someone who knows the most basic code for Wordpress-powered blogs. Anyone out there? Anyone want to get creative with Snarky Boy? Because, as of this minute, I’m not wasting another minute trying to decipher the nonsense of codes, themes, templates, style sheets and the like. Nope. Ain’t gonna do it. Instead, I’m gonna write – and paint, of course.

I’m waiting for you to contact me at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Monday Morning Coffee Shop Blogging

2007-04-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

Going really slow this morning. Could be all the fucking mold in the air after the total wetness of being all weekend. But it might also be the residual affects of kicking some mighty ass in two nights of pool sharking in the taverns of town. Oh yeah. Let’s just say that Snarky Boy owns the tables at Charlie O’s and McGillicuddy’s. Well, on the weekends that is. Because the young Republicans are still kicking my ass on their Thursday night romps. Curses! But then Friday and Saturday nights come around and the young yuppies at McGillicuddy’s can do little but get their butts spanked and pay the Snarky tab. Thanks, fellas.

But then Monday morning comes. More grayness. More reality. And not enough work it seems to get me to that glorious time for painters: House-painting season. And so, here I sit, blogging from where I was told was a hot place to blog from: Capitol Grounds coffee shop in Montpelier. Hot? Not.

Frankly, this place stinks of too many people with too much time on their hands. I feel like I’m watching children play dress-up as “adults.” Because it seems like everyone’s just pretending – pretending to be busy, pretending to be happy, pretending to be late, pretending to be reading, pretending to be writing and just plain pretending to be pretending. Isn’t that what makes Vermont so great? All the pretending, that is.

Oh fuck, I’m getting that feeling again. I’m not sure if you’ve ever had it, but it’s a feeling like life is one big scripted drama and you weren’t given a part. And so you watch everyone around you play their parts, follow their cues and enter and exit as if it was all meant to be. But I’m just left watching. And wondering. And thinking that I’m just a spectator in this drama all around me.

Or maybe I’m the one pretending? You never know. Perhaps I should pose the question. I should just get up and ask the young woman across from me if she’s really writing in her high-priced journal book or just killing time because, like me, she’s under-employed and sitting at home felt too loserly and lonely. Then I should ask the man who seems to enjoy talking loudly if he’s just pretending to be demonstrative because he’s had too much caffeine to cover up the unspeakable sadness that is at his core. Or maybe not.

Perhaps it would be better if I interjected myself into the script. Yes, that’s it. I will declare my own part in this morning coffee drama. I will rise from the table and begin to discuss my business with the next person who enters the shop. I won’t know him or her but I will just start telling them rather maniacally why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling and doing what I’m doing. It will be my drama. I will have my audience. Or maybe not.

Instead, I sit witnessing the drama around me. All these people coming together to think that being alone in a crowded room is – somehow – not being alone anymore. And so we sit, getting more and more hyper in our loneliness with each sip of morning brew. Our minds wondering, but not willing to break the code of loneliness that hangs over the room like an armed guard. Eyes must not meet. Glances must not be met. And emotions other than the glad-handing of the great pretenders must be hidden. Coffee! More fucking coffee!

Come on, can’t someone out there use a painter today? This coffee shop crowd is driving me nuts.

Mainstream Media Poll on Impeachment

2007-04-27T13:34:00.000-07:00

Yo. Go here to take part in MSNBC's poll on impeachment. When I voted, 87% had said "yes" to impeaching President Bush. And to think the Dems are still dragging their feet. Pathetic.

Hat tip to my faithful email crew for bringing this to my attention.

Friday Random Blogging

2007-04-27T11:32:00.000-07:00

Ah, it’s Friday. Finally. And I managed to finish my office-painting job with the Red Sox fan/boss from hell. Ha! Take that! Don’t worry I already put the check in the bank with plenty of cash back for what I hope to be one hell of a run on the bars tonight. Actually, he was thrilled that I never named him or his business affiliations. But, as Snarky Boy sources know by now, I don’t use names unless I’ve got permission to do so. Hey, I’ve got to have at least one rule here. Besides, the more the sources’ lips move, the more fun we’re all going to have. So let’s play.

My desk and email box are filled with good story leads but, as usual, I don’t have the time to give them all the attention they deserve. So, let’s play the game of clear out and let it rip with some good old-fashioned randomness.

First, what the hell’s up with Mark Johnson’s two days of live radio from Chicago? Did I miss something? With all due respect, Mark, who the hell cares about Chicago -- especially when the Vermont news is reaching the boiling point on so many fronts? To be honest, I couldn’t really listen to much of it, mostly because I just don’t give a shit about Chicago. But, when I did, I was waiting for some elaborate punch line from Mark about why he was really there. You know, something like he had to be there for personal reasons and dragging the show with him forced Ken Squier to foot the whole bill. But no such luck. So I guess Mark really thinks we actually care about Chicago enough to hear him talk about it for four hours during Vermont’s peak political news season. Yo, Mark, the next time you get the itch to go on the road, may I suggest these towns: Brattleboro, Middlebury, Hardwick, Newport, St. Johnsbury, St. Albans or even Avery’s Gore. But Chicago? No thanks.

Speaking of trips, the blogging ego trip known as Philip Baruth at Vermont Daily Briefing has recently inspired a slew of emails to Snarky Boy. The first batch wondered why he was ignoring the impeachment phenomena. My answer? He’s mainlining the Dem kool-aid, baby. You know that. The impeachment crowd is way too lively for sleepy Baruth, anyway. We all know by now that an exciting political event for Phil is one in which he’s photographed with a political player. Look at me! Look at me! And then, once his lips have been pried off the buttocks of the player, a story – and photos! – will follow on his blog. Come on, folks, you haven’t figured out the routine yet?

I realized I finally had to address the ego-tripper after receiving this email from a reader this morning:

Has the fatuous Philip Baruth always put his byline on his blog posts or am I just noticing it for the first time? Considering it's a one-person blog that doesn't take comments, includes his bio, and countless repulsive pictures, it seems a bit gratuitous. Do you think he will next start copyrighting his posts?

Indeed. His game at VDB seems to be about how many photos of himself or references to his name he can publish each week. Baruth claims that he started his blog because he was frustrated by the political limits that were put on his Vermont Public Radio commentaries. Bullshit. He was just pissed that he couldn’t send his photos over the radio waves. Because, let’s face it, there is absolutely nothing controversial at his site. Yawn.

Speaking of email, another regular reader recently wrote in with the news that certain Dems are trying to recruit Jeb Spalding into a race against Governor Douglas in 2008. Good luck with that. Spalding’s too comfy – and too smart – to jump into that race. There are simply too many mainstream Dems and so-called independents still enamored with our Harry Potter-like chief executive for someone of Spalding’s stature to risk a race against him. My sources tell me Spalding’s enjoying his sleepwalk through public life right now as the State Treasurer and will awake himself when an open seat presents itself in the future. You know, like Leahy’s seat.

Who, then, will the Dems put up against Douglas? Well, did you see Scudder Parker lingering around the Statehouse during the impeachment debate? Yeah, he was the guy trying to get the media’s attention. Good luck with that. Unfortunately, the good minister is not going away, even talking privately with folks about how to put it all together for another race. My prediction? Parker and Matt Dunne will be switching their places on the 2008 Dem ticket, only after Dunne calls Parker’s bluff by refusing to step aside from a possible Dem primary for the top spot. We shall see.

Speaking of Dems, get ready for the national Dems to start cracking under the ridiculous “support the troops” pressure from the White House. As we all know by now, the congressional Dems have delivered their war-funding bill – toothless timelines and all – to the White House and now await the promised veto from the mad one. And that’s when the real games begin. Soon enough, we’ll all be hearing that ear-piercing beep indicating a Dem reversal. Yep. Beep. Beep. Beep. And back they’ll go, offering all the money the Bush war team wants so as to avoid the rhetorical onslaught from the Rovians. Wimps.

Don’t believe me? Taste this line about the current position of many Dems from today’s New York Times article on the war funding negotiations currently underway between Congress and the White House:

Others say Congress has made its antiwar statement and should now give the president the money without conditions.

Imagine that. It’s going to be fun watching our own Peter Welch try to explain that one, huh?

Speaking of Welch, it was nice to wake up this morning to see this headline in the Times Argus: “Welch On Impeachment Hot Seat.” The article, by Dan Barlow of the Vermont Press Bureau, indicates that certain leaders of the impeachment movement will, indeed, be turning their attention toward Welch. It’ll be interesting to see how many of the rank and file members of the movement will follow down this path. Let’s hope all of them -- and many more newcomers.

Here’s how Jimmy Leas summed up the predicament currently facing the movement:

There is a sense that the leadership is telling members of the party to shy away from impeachment. But we want our politicians to be listening to the people, not the party.

Finally, let’s head into the weekend with a brand new feature here at Snarky Boy: Emails of the week. Here are two that particularly tickled my fancy this week:

Snarky Boy reader writes: “Love your stuff. Been thinking about printing ‘Snarky Boy for President’ bumper stickers. You game? Hell, if Bush made it, why can’t you?!

Snarky response: How about we start with “Snarky Boy for Governor”?

Snarky Boy reader writes: “Here’s a revenue idea for you:
Put a ‘Buy a Beer for Snarky’ button on the site (using Paypal to collect), with these categories:

$6 to buy Snarky a cold one for work well done;
$25 to buy a round for Snarky and his anonymous sources;
$50 to kick it in for extra snarkiness well delivered;
$100 to buy a round for the house;
$500 if you're an anonymous source who doesn't have spine enough to snark out loud yourself;
$1,000 for Snarky to slam a Democrat of your choice;
$2,000 for Snarky to slam a Republican of your choice;
$3,000 if you are bitching about Snarky not posting every single day;
$5,000 for Snarky to paint your house (not really, but Snarky needs the cash to paint his own).”

Snarky response: Now you’re talking. Stay tuned. Site changes are coming soon, with more bells and whistles – including the coveted donation button!

Now, let’s get off the ladder and into the bars, my friends. It’s Friday!

[Remember, send me your tips, quips and comments to: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

Post-Impeachment Vote Ponderings

2007-04-26T19:26:00.000-07:00

I’m still feeling politically hung-over from yesterday’s impeachment affair at the Statehouse. And I’m still scratching my head over the near-complete lack of passion from the sponsors of the impeachment resolution – especially Zuckerman. Can anyone explain why Zuckerman totally clammed up on what should have been a fawning stage for him? And, if the silence was what he was planning, why did he insist on being the so-called leader of the effort?

And you know the little insider-birds at the Statehouse have already landed on Snarky Boy’s shoulder to whisper these answers in my ear (hey, after work beers always result in fine tips): Zuckerman, according to my well-place sources, was playing both sides of the fence on this one. He was aiming for the media glow for the betterment of his statewide political profile but he also didn’t want to rock the boat amongst his legislative colleagues. So, Zuckerman spewed eloquently for the media cameras but silenced himself when it came to the toe-to-toe with his colleagues. It was what he thought was going to be a win-win for him: he’d get the impeachment movement fawning over him for getting the vote but he wouldn’t ruffle any feathers by actually fighting for it or making any of his colleagues uncomfortable during the debate.

But with the exception of the most starry-eyed impeachment folks, the strategy seems to be backfiring as more and more people replay the floor debate and keep coming up with blanks when trying to place Zuckerman at the scene. Remember, Zuckerman wasn’t going to say a word during the debate until he was specifically called upon to answer the inquiries by one of the anti-impeachment representatives. And, let’s face it, he was just short of pathetic in answering those inquiries, exhibiting all the passion usually reserved for – oh – brushing your long locks.

In the end, there were three big reasons for the overwhelming defeat of the impeachment resolution: Gaye Symington’s not-so-subtle lobbying of her colleagues; Zuckerman’s sponsorship of the resolution – thus irking the mainstream Dems who can’t stand the Progs (remember how Brian Dubie got elected); and – according to my sources – some very strong signals from the Welch, Sander and Leahy people. Yep.

As we know from the ridiculous joint statement our three federally elected officials put out against moving forward on impeachment, these three Dems knew that killing it in the Vermont House was the last chance they had to stop the movement’s march to their doorsteps – especially Welch’s. After the Shumlin Snake slithered and twisted away from taking one for the team, the team turned all their heat up on Symington and the House Dems to stop the impeachment movement before it scorched them all.

Welch, Sanders and Leahy love to rail against the Bush team but they also know the Bush team has been wonderful for their political careers. They use the Bush name in Vermont like Bush uses the Osama name across the nation: To try to scare the shit out of people and take the emphasis off the fact that they’ve got no real plan other than scaring people to the polls. Let’s face it, without Bush, we’d be talking about Congresswoman Rainville right now. And Leahy wouldn’t be donning the chairman’s cap and basking in the love lights of the libs who aren’t willing to see the great disconnect between Leahy pointing out all the illegalities of the Bush team and yet NOT supporting impeachment. Oh yeah, Bush is the electoral gift that keeps giving – well, for one more election that is.

It’s going to be very interesting to see if the leaders of the amorphous impeachment mob will be willing to turn their rage to where it should be aimed now: Straight at Peter Welch. Or will they be satisfied with their “success” in the Senate and bow to the
Dem insiders’ calls to take it easy now and stop the political scorching? That would be a total shame – not to mention a complete rebuke to the idealism, passion and energy of so many people who rode the impeachment train this far.

One thing is for sure: A powerful movement has been created. More importantly, it’s a movement that dares to dream, be bold and – for the most part – shun the political correctness codes that normally doom such movements. That’s why hundreds of people took so much time out of their lives to be a part of it. It was real. It was focused. It was passionate. And – better yet – it didn’t belong to any party or high-profile pol.

Here’s to hoping the movement grows – in numbers and boldness.

Snark on.

Impeachment Blues: The People Spoke & the Pols Cowered

2007-04-25T14:30:00.000-07:00

Oh, the drama. Well, kind of. Hmm, on third thought, I could have just continued watching paint dry. It would have been just as fruitful and exciting as watching the all-too-predictable Dem slaughter of the grassroots this afternoon in the Statehouse. You gotta hand it to these Dems, they sure know how to stick it to their base, don’t they? In fact, if passion were one side of a magnet, the mainstream Dems would certainly be repelling it on the opposite side.

This time, as we all know by now, nearly 400 Vermonters made the journey to the Statehouse to hang their hopes on yet another miraculous victory along democracy road. It wasn’t to be, however, as the Speaker of the House, Gaye Symington, lined up enough of her Dem faithful to put a dagger in the hearts of those who knew it was all symbolism anyway. But Gaye and her band of Dems who can’t shoot straight had to, nevertheless, wave their pedantic finger and scold us for “going to far,” “being to bold,” and “wanting to much.” Oh yeah, Gaye, it really sucks when people dream, doesn’t it?

Please, remind me not to party with Gaye. Not that Gaye would party, for sure. But, if she did, she’d be the one who’d come to the Halloween party without a costume and then announce that everyone else is just in costume. Well, yeah. That’s how it works, you dope. And I’ll bet when she really wants to let loose, she asks her multi-millionaire husband, Chuck Lacy of Ben & Jerry’s fame, to hire an Air Supply cover band. Rock out, Gaye! Not.

And given Gaye’s close proximity to the Ben & Jerry’s symbolism – how’d that “1% for Peace” thing work out? – you’d think she’d understand the pure symbolism of today’s actions. This whole effort has been about people feeling frustrated and wanting something – anything! – to reflect that frustration in the body politic. I’m certainly not amongst the Kool-Aid drinkers in this movement who think these votes in the Vermont Statehouse will go any further than the Vermont Statehouse – officially, that is. But, symbolically, these votes are about giving hope, building the base, and seeing if the Dems have anything close to what it takes to be a true oppositional party to the White House Republicans. We were dreaming, goddamn it.

But in these times you always know that when the dreams of the people get going, there are going to be more than enough good Dem-dream killers ready to pounce and – well – kill the dream. Just like Peter Welch killed the dream of Vermonters who want the war in Iraq stopped today – not in two years – Simple Symington donned her dream-killer garb today to shepherd home a vote that basically took a good long piss on the passion of the grassroots left. All that was really missing was this kind of line from Symington as she lorded over the slaughter: Take that, you fools!

And so it goes.

Let me conclude with some snarky observations about the winners and losers in this debate as I saw it:

Gaye Symington, Loser. No surprise here. Sure, she got pushed into this by the Shumlin Snake, but she twisted enough Dem arms to make sure it failed. Her side of Dem ninniness should not be surprised when more Vermonters pick third, fourth and fifth party alternatives in the next election. Anyone in Jericho ready to take her on from the left?

David Zuckerman, Loser. Yep. Even though Zuckerman sponsored this resolution, he was absolutely pathetic in defense of it. First of all, he didn’t rise to say a word in support of it until some Republican Neanderthal demanded to question him and, even then, he acted like the school kid who didn’t really read the book being discussed. Coming into the Statehouse, I really thought this was going to be Zuckerman’s day. He would have hundreds of supporters in the cheap seats, the glowing lights of the media and any and all the attention he wanted to articulately support and defend the impeachment resolution he spearheaded. Instead, he sat and sipped fucking Dr. Pepper and all but cowered from the attention that he should have been bathing in. Weird. I guess he’s not ready for primetime after all.

Chris Pearson, Winner. This new Prog from Burlington gave the speech that most of the room thought that many reps would have given today. Pearson is clearly the boy-in-waiting on the Prog side of things – move over, pony-tailed Dave. Or, better yet, go to sleep, Pollina. He nailed it by understanding the symbolism of the moment and clearly and unequivocally declaring his wish to be on the side of opposition to the rogue Bush administration. Pearson’s got his mojo going. Congrats.

Jon Anderson, Loser. Well, this newbie from Montpelier is just – well – a loser. Oh sure, he voted in favor of the resolution. But only after – according to several of his colleagues who confided in me – he bumbled around the backrooms asking folks how to vote. Get a life, dude. Or as one area rep told me: Look at your constituents, you idiot! Yep. But Turtle Jon is really on the Snarky Boy loser list mostly because of what I overheard from one of the media elite during the debate as Anderson walked across the room: “Dead man walking.” Oh yeah. Enjoy yourself, Jon, because it won’t be long before the voters show you the door.

Kurt Wright, Loser. No shit. But that won’t stop the Burlington Dems from feeling all proud about handing them the leadership role of their City Council.

The Kingdom Republicans, Losers. Holy shit, let’s be real here. There are some really, really scary looking Republicans from the Northeast Kingdom. Several of them look like they’re one pasta dinner short of a coronary. And the anger! Whew. They were so proud to scream out their “no!” votes that I almost thought the next call would be “911” to clear the arteries that were/are so obviously clogged.

The People, Winners. Wow. What a show of force. Even if we got the golden shower from the power elite, we showed that we – for now, at least – still believe in the system and expect results. And “the people” will continue to be winners if we don’t fold up our tents and go away after the Gaye-massacre of passion and, instead, keep dreaming and doing what we know is right. Or left? Whatever.

[Thanks for all the snarky shout-outs at the hearing today. Nice to see so many people following the words according to Snarky Boy. Who knew? As always, send me your quips, tips and comments to: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.org]

Snarky News Flash: Impeachment Dies in the House

2007-04-25T12:24:00.001-07:00

Well, we lost. The impeachment crowd, that is. And thank fucking God. Because all that winning had me really worried. I mean, I was starting to not crave that afternoon beer. Not much time for now other than to say the Dems acted like Dems today and, upon being thrown against the wall to determine if they were cooked, enough of them sided with the Mother Goose-Speaker (that would be Ms. Symington) to give the collective finger to the 300 or so folks who came to – well – get the finger. The vote wasn’t even close, 80-something to 60-something. My time on this borrowed computer has now expired, but I’ll be home to post some snarky observations a little later. I promise.

Democracy Wednesday

2007-04-25T06:18:00.000-07:00

Yo. Rule number one: Watch your tongue. Especially when you have an ever-growing audience that may include certain clients who wear suits and baseball caps [see below]. Yikes. Who knew? But after the oh-so-nice-current-boss-man informed me that he was, indeed, aware of the Snarky Boy, I broke my rule of not checking my stat page. Holy cow. Someone’s sure spreading the word. Big time. Let’s just say that you’re far from alone in visiting. Well, you and over 500 other unique visitors every day. So, I thank you all for playing. And, as usual, I thank you for your emails, which, of course, can be sent to: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

P.S. Don’t worry, I’m not going to watch my tongue. Besides, it would be way too late to start now. So, get over it and keep reading, my friends.

--

Whew, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s look at the news. Ew. Maybe not. Because yesterday was ugly in Iraq, the Dems and Bush keep promising more money for the misadventure, Bush declared that his Attorney General, Alberto Gonzales, did a heck of a job at his Senate hearing (hmm, where have we heard that one?), and the Pentagon is getting it from the Tillman family and Jessica Lynch for being the lying propagandistic bastards that they are. Yeah, it’s ugly out there.

Well, not when it comes to the Vermont impeachment crowd. The little movement that could just keeps on chugging up the hill, turning milquetoast Dems into believers faster than the weather changes, and gaining more and more followers by the minute.

Ah, there’s only one thing Snarky Boy likes better than a cold one: The smell of democracy in the morning, baby. And it absolutely reeks of democracy in Vermont of late. Better yet, the more the ninny insiders try to play their stalling and derailment games, the more they look like the asses that they are.

The Shumlin Snake, for example, did what all good snakes do from time to time: slither here to fore until a new sense of comfort has been attained. Better yet, while getting himself all comfortable with his contorted positions on impeachment, the Shumlin Snake has managed once again to put a big turd on desk of his cohort, Gaye Symington. Well, that’s not really true, since Gaye has been doing everything in her power to look even more ridiculous than Shumlin on the issue of impeachment.

But – much to my snarky dismay – the grassroots impeachment crowd just keeps chugging away, making wimpy pols look like – well – wimpy pols. At this point, there’s enough egg on the faces of the weather-vane Dem leadership to feed the throngs of Vermonters who will be marching to the Statehouse once again today. Would you like home fries with that?

Once again, your snarky friend will be taking a long lunch break for the benefit of witnessing Dem leaders squirm and pure democracy in action. As we all know by now, at 1:00 today, the Vermont House will be considering the same impeachment resolution that passed the Senate last Friday morning. The prospects for passage in the Symington-led House don’t look good at this moment. But if we’ve learned anything over the last few weeks about this amorphous mob of impeachment seekers it’s that it’s not wise to bet against them. Geez, don’t you just hate it when people believe in something enough to take effective action? Oh wait, that’s what this democracy thing was supposed to be about, right? Go team, go.

For political junkies like me, it’ll be fun to see how this movement turns the corner after the Statehouse drama ends today. Will they, for example, aim their impeachment venom at our foot-dragging congressman, Peter Welch? Let’s hope so.

If they do, we’ll certainly see old limp Peter roll out his famous double talk. It’ll sound a lot like his defense of talking against the war but voting to fund it. He’s a lawyer, you know, and made scads of money speaking out of both sides of his mouth. Worse, Peter’s got that uncanny ability to absolutely put you to sleep while trying to talk around an issue. So, after awhile, you really don’t care about his conclusion because you just want him to stop talking already. He is, after all, ruining a good nap.

Oh well, it should be a good show today – win or lose. Stay tuned for snarky updates.

Attention Gaye Symington: Read This!

2007-04-23T10:50:00.001-07:00

As the impeachment crowd prepares to head to the Statehouse on Wednesday to get the bizarrely recalcitrant Dem-Speaker, Gaye Symington, to come to her senses, perhaps all the evidence they need to present is this introduction to today’s online story in the New York Times:

President Bush strongly reiterated his support for Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales today, declaring that Mr. Gonzales’s testimony on Capitol Hill last week had increased his confidence in him.

“The attorney general went up and gave a very candid assessment, and answered every question he could possibly answer, honestly answer, in a way that increased my confidence in his ability to do the job,” Mr. Bush said.

And Gaye Symington wants nearly two more years of this crap?

Good Day Sunshine? Big Fucking Deal.

2007-04-23T10:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, quit your bitching already. So I took a few days off, big deal. Like I’ve said before, when you snark-seekers start glad-handing me with crisp twenty dollar bills I might – might! – start taking your “hey, where are you?” emails a bit more seriously. Until then, shut up about it.

And while I’m in that not-so-unfamiliar area of getting things off my chest, I’m issuing this snarky demand that the candyasses amongst us (you know who you are) stop this obnoxious glee over the stupid weather. I can’t take it anymore. Oh baby, there’s nothing like a bunch of pasty Vermonters shedding too many clothes too soon. Yikes. It sure looks like too many people took Paul Beaudry up on his plea to get Vermonters to eat more cheese. Okay, okay, enough already, because I don’t think all this support for Cabot is going to cover your fucking coronary bills. And, please, buy some bigger clothes already.

As a painter, I rarely run to the sun like so many Vermonters did last weekend. Because, you see, I’ll be in the sun all summer. That means I’ll be going through my late-spring ritual of looking like a lobster and then morphing into something darker than a David Lynch flick. Huh? Whatever.

My schedule is opposite to most working folk. I’m outside when you’re inside and I’m inside when you’re running around like a fucking lunatic screaming about the “air and the sun.” Been there – all fucking week. So when I get those scornful little looks from the goody-goody people walking down the streets of Montpelier when I duck into Charlie O’s in the late afternoon, I know I’ve already done my outdoor time and all I need is a cave and a cold one. What better place?

Oh wait, maybe those looks are about the pursuit of the late-afternoon alcohol. And to them I say: When you stop popping all your pills I’ll stop my self-medicating. Deal? Now shut up about it.

Boy, what got into me today? Wait, I know. It’s hotter than hell in this office building I’ve got two more days of work in and my Yankees totally shit the bed over the weekend. It always sucks to lose three in a row to the Red Sox but it REALLY sucks to lose to them while working for a total Red Sox dork for a client. You know the type: He wears a suit and a Red Sox baseball cap. Oh yeah, baby, sooooo cool. What a statement. Worse, he acts like he’s one-in-a-million for being a Sox fan in the heart of Sox country. Dude, get a life.

If that isn’t bad enough, this fella actually took that WDEV bus trip to Fenway Park yesterday to see last night’s game. Could you think of anything worse than being on a busload of ninny Sox fans – all pretending to be more fanatical than the next one? Good fucking grief. And he was all jacked up about it like he was going on a date with Jessica Alba. But, as we all know, Sox fans don’t get laid – not with that suit/baseball cap combo. No way.

Here’s the really dorky part: The WDEV bus didn’t get back to Central Vermont until 4:30 this morning and he stayed up, got dork-pumped on too much coffee, clothed himself in even more new Red Sox paraphernalia, and came hooting and hollering into his office like we were all just waiting to hear about his “monumental” trip. But he’s the boss – not to just the Snarky painter but also about a half-dozen captured souls who do his office chores and pretend to care about something more than his signature on the bi-weekly checks.

In other words, we were all captives to his nonsense all morning. Until, that is, he petered out just before noon and – as if we didn’t see though it – announced that he had a meeting to go to in Burlington. Oh sure. But, hey, it works for me, he’s got one hell of a computer and that speedy access manic bloggers crave. Thanks, dork.

Oops, gotta switch computers. I’ll post this for now and get to my other stuff when the kind little lady of the office sets up me with a new spot. Consider my situation kind of like the Vermont Senate on Friday: When the boss is away, the painter will play.

Back soon…

News Flash: Peter Welch Confirms Peter Welch's Opinions!

2007-04-19T11:00:00.000-07:00

Since I know that the young lads at the various offices of Congressman Peter Welch are regular readers of this blog, let me take this opportunity to provide you and your boss with some free snarky advice: Please, stop talking about that silly little trip to Iraq and Afghanistan! It’s getting embarrassing. Because Peter’s just skating on the surface and trying to say one and one thing only: I was right and I’ve got power! Whatever.

There is no one – repeat: no one – who didn’t know that he'd come back from that trip and say the exact same kinds of things he's saying. In fact, as you’ll recall, I predicted the words Peter would utter upon his return a week before he started the trip.

But Peter keeps making the rounds to every Vermont media outlet that will have him. Worse, he’s saying the exact same things at every stop – not realizing, apparently, that there’s lots and lots of overlap in the audiences.

My favorite standard Peter line is that he’s come back from the trip with a realization that “the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are different.” Yes, Peter, one’s in Afghanistan and one’s in Iraq. Wow. Smart fella. But the only real difference for those of us who look further than the superficial spin provided by the State Department is that both are a disaster. Sure, when – at this moment – you compare Afghanistan and Iraq, it may appear that the Afghan situation is all hunky-dory, especially when you get your information from the man being propped up by the U.S. military in Afghanistan, President Hamid Karzai.

Yo Peter, if you were to ask President Bush how things are going in this country, he’d say “super!” And would you believe it? Of course not, you dope. That’s why it’s important for you to put your thinking cap on before you go on these cloistered trips.

Peter’s latest stop on his Vermont media tour to say “look, I traveled!” landed him on WDEV’s Mark Johnson Show this morning. Lucky for Peter, he didn’t have much more than about 25 minutes to say the same kinds of bullshit he’d already said to every other member of the Vermont media. Because good old Mark was ready for some real questions. You know, things like, “But how could you make that determination after only two days in the country?” Bingo.

And each time Mark tried to poke holes in Peter’s “I’m so fucking important and smart” balloon, Peter declared that he was almost out of time. Yeah, doesn’t that suck when members of the media actually ask you to defend your nonsense?

The last question from Mark was the clincher for Peter, leading him to hang up and definitely get the hell off the phone. It came after he declared that the trip made him even more sure that the Iraq war is a disaster.

“Well,” asked Mark, “how could you be even more sure when before the trip you called it an ‘unmitigated disaster?’”

Gotta go, declared Peter… and – vrooooom – away he went.

But let’s step back and pretend Peter’s still available for some follow-up questions. Oh hell, let’s just make it ONE question:

If, as you say, it’s an “unmitigated disaster,” why did you vote to throw $124 billion toward funding it?

Worse, earlier in the interview, Peter declared that the “military strategy was a complete failure.” Okay, so throw them some more money! I guess Peter still thinks he’s a lawyer representing one of those poor schmucks who responded to one of his ambulance-chasing ads on television. Nope, he never wanted to tell them that it was hopeless either – not when these “complete failures” are so good for your career and – ahem – bottom line.

Please, Peter, stop the bullshit. You were in Iraq for two days – two days! You don’t “feel the pain” of the soldiers – unless you really want to stay and fight. You saw nothing but what was staged for you. And you’re embarrassingly just using the trip the way all your colleagues use such ridiculous trips: To promote yourself.

Just stop. Or, better yet, get real and do what common sense would dictate to someone who declared a situation an “unmitigated disaster” and “complete failure”: Stop funding it!

It’s really not that hard.

[Reminder: Email me with your tips, quips and comments at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

McCain Sings: Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Iran

2007-04-19T10:01:00.001-07:00

You've got to watch this. When is this old bastard just going leave us all alone? And while his Iran policy is bad enough, his policy of waiting to get on stage to shoot the snot is perhaps worse. Gross.

Gonzales Hearing Live Blogging (with many updates below)

2007-04-19T08:02:00.000-07:00

Yikes. I don’t know what’s more scary, the fact that President Bush appointed this Gonzales character to lead the U.S. Department of Justice or Gonzales’ absolutely terrible testimony that has just begun as I’m home on what we’ll call a “sick day.” Yeah right. I was going to try and write about some more Vermont-oriented issues today – you know, things like Welch’s silly press parade in regards to his recent Iraq trip, more on the Shummy-snake and his continued efforts to twist and recoil, and more than a few pokes at the increasingly dopey Vermont media (bloggers, included) – but, damn it, I can’t write about it AND listen to Gonzales make a complete and total fool of himself at the same time. So, since I owe you words, let’s try some live blogging…

Opening statement review: Gonzales has no friends here. None. I guess all the good senators can smell dead meat when it sits before them because not one had a good thing to say while welcoming Gonzales. The beginning had that frantic feel similar to that of cutting raw meat in the presence of a dozen hungry dogs. They were ready to pounce. And for good reason, too. Nothing that has come out of Gonzales’ mouth in the last few months has had anything close to consistency to it. But that’s par for the D.C. political course.

Like so many policy fuck-ups by the Bush administration, Gonzales just refuses to stop spinning bullshit and come clean. Instead, he just keeps obfuscating, meandering, dodging and weaving around that essential little thing called “the truth.” This whole thing could just be over if he’d pitch the Bush team playbook of arrogantly thinking that bullshit can be piled high enough to hide the truth and say this: I was obviously involved in the removal of the federal prosecutors. We did it because we have the authority to do it. But I know it looks terrible, it interferes with real justice and further undermines the confidence in the justice system. Worse, I have been involved in numerous attempts to hide my involvement in the removal of these attorneys, thus insulting the intelligence of nearly everyone who can read a newspaper. Therefore, I suggest we end these hearings because, as of this moment, I’m resigning my position as Attorney General, mostly because I now understand what second-rate flunky I clearly am.”

Good luck with that.

Interestingly, it wasn’t Leahy who got super-snappy with Gonzales first. Nope, it was the Republican ranking member, Arlen Specter. Ouch. If this were a boxing match, it would already be called a technical knockout. Now let’s see how many more punches Gonzales is able to take before he runs from the room calling out for his mommy…

Oops, we’re getting close, as Gonzales just uttered these important words: “The moment I believe I can no longer be an effective Attorney General, I will resign this position.” Hmm, and by effective, do you mean spending months on end twisting in the winds of deceit?

Oh no, here comes Orrin Hatch, the lemon-sucking-senator, to Gonzales momentary rescue. Here’s his first question: “Mr. Attorney General, do you make decisions based on public opinion polls?” Yo Orrin, get a life.

Wait, here’s another Hatch question: “Do you spend a lot of time at the White House?”

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First Update (11:20 am): Feinstein is now questioning the shrinking Gonzales. And within three minutes I’ve counted six “I don’t recalls.” Damn. Come on noon.

I’ve got a question: Is it just White House arrogance that would even allow this fiasco to go as far as it’s gone? I mean, why didn’t they just demand Gonzales’ resignation a couple of months ago? It really makes no sense to me. On one hand you could surmise they Gonzales must be sitting on a huge pile of Bush team secrets and they don’t want to cut him loose. But on the other, you could surmise that the White House absolutely hates Gonzales and they’re getting a perverse kick out of watching him get his ass handed to him. Of course, the White House could also be thinking that it’s better for the media and the Dems to be kicking Gonzo’s ass rather than Bush’s. But, again, none of it makes sense. I’m betting on the arrogance angle.

Whew. Leahy just called for a ten-minute break. He could probably smell the piss in Gonzo’s pants.

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Update Three (11:35 am): We’re still on break. The Pacifica Radio commentators have pointed out that 40% of the audience there is wearing pink (the Code Pink folk) or orange in solidarity with the Gitmo prisoners. Many of these people also are carrying signs, the most popular being the clear and the concise: Resign. But the best news – especially in regards to our upcoming drinking game – is that there’s a man in the room with a “I Don’t Recall Counter” sign. According to the Pacifica folks, the counter stood at 29 when the break was called. Holy shit. And I’ve only got a six-pack

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Update 4 (11:58): We’re back and Gonzo’s got some dry pants on. And, oh boy, it’s Texas time! Texas Senator John Cornyn is now lobbing softies at the Texas-born Gonzo who was appointed to his AG position by the kinda-Texan Bush. Can you say: Lovefest? Bingo.

Surprise, surprise Cornyn wants to know why we’re not talking about Clinton and his administration’s handling of states attorneys. Well, Mr. Senator Dumb-Fuck, let me answer that one: Because Clinton hasn’t been president for over six years!

Whew. The weird Texas moment is over, in which Cornyn did his best to make us all believe that there is no reason for much of the nation to be outraged over a slimy Gonzo. Nice try. Now shut the fuck up.

Next questioner: Senator Russ Feingold. This should be good.

It wasn’t. Just more posturing on both sides, with neither willing to get really interesting by just resorting to name calling.

It’s almost noon! Get your drinks ready!

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Update 5 (12:25): It’s Senator Schumer’s turn to play “take a poke at the liar.” And now I’m reminded of the time I had a cat that liked to catch a mouse and then bring it into the bathtub. The hapless mouse was doomed to a hideous game of slipping and sliding around the tub with no hope for escape while the big, bad cat just toyed with it. For some reason, I just keep thinking about that frantic mouse….

Senator Leahy just had to intervene to remind the crowd to refrain from their laughter during the hearing. How unfair.

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s drinking time! Remember, each time Gonzo says “I don’t recall,” let it rip. It’s really your choice about how much to chug. And if you don’t want to drink alone, bring the damn dog into the room.

Schumer’s best line in regards to Gonzo’s testimony: “It defies credulity.” Oh yeah.

Oh wait, we’re getting a news alert from Fox News: The Virginia Tech shooter was believed to be crazy. No shit. But they’re going to keep telling us this all fucking day long in a desperate attempt to keep the distraction going.

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Update 6 (12:52): Cool. The protesters in the crowd finally had enough. They just erupted in a “Gonzales must resign” chant. Of course, the police stepped in and all the senators – including the Dems, for course – looked angrily at the folks who had had enough with the rhetorical games. Bravo to the protesters! Finally, someone cut to the chase and said about the only thing that needs to be said.

For those keeping track at home, the man with the “I Don’t Recall” counter is now up to 52. Yep, Gonzo has uttered that evasive phrase 52 times. And for those participating in the drinking game, hide the car keys. You’re going to be in no position to drive anywhere if this continues.

The Pacifica crew has now declared the most obvious: Gonzo is only making his situation worse. Why? Well, people thought the only way Gonzo could pull the rabbit out of a hat and protect his ass was to come forward with some new information, a revived memory and the ability to put the two together. No such luck. It’s just been the same old same old. And this after hearing for weeks that Gonzo was spending all his time preparing for this hearing. Yikes.

It’s break time again. Which means Gonzo will be going on his third adult diaper of the day.

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Update 7 (2:20): Well, I’m getting really, really bored. As you see from the above, I killed some time by browsing YouTube and revisiting the issue of Peter Welch. But, damn it, the hearings are still on break. Hmm, maybe it was my insistence on playing the drinking game? I’ve even had to place my nice stash of Budweiser back in the fridge to keep them cool while waiting. [Editor’s note: Please, spare me the comments on Budweiser – I’m a painter, you know?]

I’m now beginning to think that this huge delay is about more than giving the huge senators a chance to eat their huge lunches. Perhaps Gonzo is seeing the light? Hmm, perhaps a letter of resignation is being agreed upon? We can only hope.

Speaking of hope: Let’s hope that the ninnies in the Vermont legislature – especially Shummy the Snake and Simple Symington – will see how wrong they are for not allowing Vermonters to officially express our outrage over the Bush administration by moving toward impeachment.

Still on break…

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Last Update (3:52): Sorry, couldn’t take it any longer. Even Snarky Boys need sunshine on a day like this. Yowza. But it doesn’t look like I missed anything: Gonzo still can’t remember much and the Dems are still trying to maintain some decorum in what is obviously one, big joke of a hearing. To get back to an earlier point, it is simply outrageous – even criminal – that the Bush team would allow this hack to come before the U.S. Senate as unprepared, unwilling and/or untruthful as he so clearly is. As a political junky, I tend to listen to these things more than the average painter and, let me tell you, I’ve never heard anything like it. It’s so bad, in fact, that I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard. But, then again, he’s just the latest Constitutional-loathing prick who’s been thrown over the side of the Bush ship so as to pretend that the higher-ups (Cheney, Rove, et al) remain pure. Yeah right.

You’re on your own from here on out. I’m heading back for some sun and fresh air.

The Guv Behind Closed Doors...

2007-04-18T13:24:00.000-07:00

Shumlin may hunt in a t-shirt but the Guv is still kicking his ass.

Shumlin’s Double-Eye Poke to the Left

2007-04-17T14:13:00.000-07:00

You know, sometimes you just can’t make this stuff up. Because no matter how hard you try to make slick pricks look like slick pricks, they always do you one better. They are, after all, the slick pricks.

I’m speaking, of course, of Peter Shumlin, the leader of the Vermont Senate – one slick prick, for sure. Shumlin’s the Dem leader with the super-majority in the Senate who has been matching his cohort in the House, Gaye Symington, stride for stride in doing absolutely nothing with their new-found power. But at least Shumlin’s been able – until now – to make the total and complete lack of a Dem agenda look like Symington’s fault. In other words, Shummy’s been able to push Symington over the political cliff every time he feels the heat getting close to him.

Until now. Yep, Shummy’s luck has run out. Because, sooner or later, you run out of people to shove over the cliff in Vermont politics and – voila! – you’re left looking pretty lonely and very guilty on the edge of that cliff. Oh Shummy, your time is up.

The mighty phony Shummy machine hit all time lows today in the Statehouse. And you could tell by the excessive shiftiness in his eyes that he knew the gig of saying one thing and doing another was near an end.

Shummy, you see, was backed into a rhetorical corner by the impeachment crowd. He was the one who threw gasoline on their fire earlier in the session by grabbing the metaphorical microphone and yelling to the state: “I support impeachment!” But, the funny thing is, the people of Vermont took him seriously, not realizing that the slick prick was just being himself. Because when the impeachment crowd asked Shummy for just a wee-bit of action on that mighty rhetoric of his, he huffed and he puffed and acted like they just asked him to go hunting in a t-shirt. Oh wait, he’s already done that. Yawn.

“The Senate does not have time to take up impeachment,” Shummy declared. And slam went the door. Never mind the rhetoric, the headlines and the false promises, you dopes.

But now let’s fast-forward to today’s action in the Statehouse. Two things were swirling in the air under the gold dome: the impeachment folks were demanding some action from Shummy, and the Douglas administration was demanding some action on his stalled “affordability agenda.” And guess which one Shummy pushed? Yep, Shummy kissed some Guv-ass like it hasn’t been kissed since – oh – Montpelier’s new rep., Jon Anderson, got on his knees to say “thanks, guv” by jilting his party and siding with Douglas on the veto override of the budget bill.

Ah, the coveted two-finger poke! One to the impeachment crowd and one to the mainstream Dems who would like to see someone – anyone! – stand up to Douglas and, better yet, push a plan of their own that shows some Dem leadership. Thanks, Peter!

So, in case you’ve got paint fumes on the brain like I do, let me summarize: The Dem leader Shumlin declared that he doesn’t have time for an impeachment issue that he declared belief in but, on the day the impeachment crowd came to beg him, he threw a favor to the Republican governor by allowing one of his economic packages to pass the Senate and, thus, take up lots and lots of time on an issue Shummy has declared disbelief in. Ah, welcome to the wonderful world of Dem leadership.

And, yes, that’s laughter you hear coming out of the Guv’s office. Because they’re celebrating the fact that the super-majority Dems continue to do little but piss on their base and hand him one victory after another.

Thanks, Peter.

[Reminder: Email your comments, quips and tips to me at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

Impeachment Crowd to the Statehouse: Kick Me!

2007-04-17T11:16:00.000-07:00

Well, that was a waste of time. My trip to the Statehouse, that is. I’ve really got to stop hanging out with nuns and other such nice people. Fuck that. Because nice people let elected officials walk all over them – all with a limp handshake and a three-dollar smile.

You see, earlier today I took an early lunch break, threw on a clean shirt and wandered up to the Statehouse to see the impeachment crowd make a showing. Well, it wasn’t much of a show. It was more like church. There we sat. Quietly. And somberly. All too happy when one of our reps mentioned that we were in attendance. Big fucking deal.

I would have rather we rushed the podium and declared ourselves the true and only captains of the ship for a moment or two. At least we would have made the nasty spirited cops hanging around the place actually do something other than look surly. And all those lingering media types would have had something to do other than camping out at the doors of power.

But no such luck. The niceties ruled the day. Ho-hum. The nice impeachment crowd hung nice little signs around their nice necks and sat nicely while being not-so-nicely ignored. Wow. Powerful shit. Not. The signs around their necks said something about being for impeachment but they might as well have just said: “Kick me, I’m a liberal.” Oh baby, feel the victimhood!

The absolutely hysterical part of the show was that the two Dem powerbrokers, Gaye Symington in the House and Peter Shumlin in the Senate, stood firmly in their insistence that “there was no time” for either chamber to take up the matter of Vermont passing a resolution calling for Bush to be removed from office. But in the 30-minutes that I could stand the nonsense of the so-called busi-ness of the House chamber, I saw a two-bit country poet reciting nonsense in a thick Vermont accent that made most everyone swoon with dopiness, a pledge to the flag, resolutions supporting what felt like every town’s basketball teams and more than enough “thank you, Ms. Speakers,” to make me want to slide bare-assed down the winding banister just for shits and giggles. But, then again, I’m always wanting to that.

Who the hell knows what happened after the 30 minutes I could barely endure. The last I saw of the nice people they were nicely marching off to apparently be nice in another part of the nice building. Isn’t it fucking great how nice we can be while people die in our name? There are mega-ton bombs falling on the heads of Iraqis due to one ridiculous lie after another by the sitting president and his merry-band of Constitution shredders, but – in response – we have to observe and respect the rules that are basically dictating that we be ignored. Thank you, Ms. Speaker! And, please, let me know if I’m not bending over at the appropriate height so as to maximize the force of your boot making contact with my ass.

Ack. Yack. Puke. Blah. Flah. Bwa. Ugh.

There, I feel a little better – other than that taste of Constitutional vomit still lingering.

Stay tuned, there’s more coming later….

Let's Go to the Statehouse!

2007-04-17T06:22:00.000-07:00

Living & Loving in Montreal

2007-04-16T13:58:00.000-07:00

Lovely weekend. No really, I’m serious. Because while you slovenly bastards tried to pull the shades and pretend that snowflakes the size of cinder blocks weren’t really falling on April-fucking-fifteenth, your not-so-friendly Snarky Boy high-tailed it to Montreal with a carload of fun-loving folks in pursuit of – well – denial. Total and complete denial of the unbearable grayness of it all.

Ah, and it worked. Too well, I would say. Because now that I’ve managed to stumble through a day of painting a non-state-owned office complex, I can feel the total and complete weight of a weekend gone wild.

But oh how I love Montreal. There’s nothing like it, especially within a three-hour drive. The city literally swallows you up, entices you with its modernity, bathes you in its urban lust, ignores your eccentricities, and encourages your pursuit of pleasure. Lots and lots of pleasure.

And while it was just as gray in the mother city of Quebec, it was still alive and kicking with music, food, revelers, and a seemingly endless parade of people ducking in and out of places that could only make you smile. Enough said (for now).

Now I’m back – physically, that is. And more than a bit damaged by the reverie and the bizarre dream I had last night in the car trip home. In it, I found myself at a paint store where there were only two choices of paint: black and white. Worse, the sinister man behind the counter only chuckled when I asked if I could do blends of the two.

“No, sir, that isn’t allowed,” he remarked, before bursting out with the kind of hackle that makes your spine tingle.

So it went. And now I’m home, sifting through emails, trying to catch up on the news and thankful that I missed two days of Vermont’s most hideous spring.

And you?

TGIF Blogging

2007-04-13T14:33:00.000-07:00

Holy shit. You’re not going to believe this. The Vermont Press Bureau is reporting that Rep. Peter Welch “said Thursday that his ongoing trip through Iraq reinforces his belief that American troops should be withdrawn from the country as soon as possible.”

Boy, what a fucking surprise. And if you can remember back a few days, here’s what your snarky friend predicted Welch would say upon his return: “I was moved by what I saw. And I’m convinced more than ever that our timetable is the right decision.”

Close enough. And how much did this trip cost? Or, better yet, how many carbon offsets did the good congressman have to buy to relieve his pollution guilt?

But the real question remains: How long is Welch going to get away with his rhetorical gamesmanship about wanting to bring the troops home “as soon as possible”? Because the Vermont media just keeps lapping it up like Welch either believes it or is actually voting that way. And he does not and is not.

Members of Congress have a very clear and definite manner in which to truly bring the troops home “as soon as possible.” It’s called de-funding the war. Not tomorrow, not in eighteen months, not when Bush leaves office – but today. They could simply propose a bill that says every dollar for the fiasco in Iraq can now go to two and only two things: The cost of safely removing the U.S. troops and the reparations money necessary to allow the Iraqis to move forward.

But Welch won’t do it. Instead, he’s going to keep digging his own political grave by hemming and hawing, dodging and weaving and making this war his war by shoveling more and more money into the war furnace.

Poor little Dem, he’s lost his way.

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And you wanna know why elected Dems keep getting away with this crap? The Dem grassroots are nothing but a nest of ninnies. Where’s their outrage over getting yet another pile of crap heaped on their heads? There is none. Instead, they’re all off in fucking la-la land about who’s the best candidate for the president and governor in ’08. Yo, fucktards, how about using some of that “insider” influence you like to brag about to put some heat on the elected Dems of today to do something today? I know, I know, it might make your next little cocktail gathering a little uncomfortable – bringing up “issues” and all – but isn’t that what politics is all about? Come on, boys and girls, it’s got to be time for your graduation to the 1st grade of politics, no?

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Oh wait, this just in from the wires: Green Mountain Daily is announcing that the tooth fairy may not actually exist…stay tuned. Oh wait, now that discussion has begun, it looks like the tooth fairy may exist after all. But it’s not clear if it’s in the form of Obama, Hillary or Edwards. Stay tuned….

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And while we’re poking fun at the sleepy little Vermont blogging community, let’s have a big poke at JD over at “five before timidity – er, make that, chaos,” for his quick little jump on the bandwagon of those who are celebrating the firing of Imus. Yo, this is nothing to celebrate. Yes, Imus is an ass, but this should be about the First Amendment. And none of us who believe in the freedom of expression should be celebrating the hypocritical nonsense that the I-man was pulled through over the last week. Because believing in the First Amendment means believing that total fucking wingnuts are also free to say what they want. And when it starts making you feel all warm and fuzzy about wrapping the duct tape around anyone’s mouth, just think how fast the tide can turn and that gray sticky substance will be wrapped around your own mouthpiece. In other words, it’s a slippery slope. There is nothing – repeat NOTHING – to celebrate over someone losing their job over the words they uttered.

For some perspective on this matter, I would strongly recommend these two links: Sam Smith and Jason Whitlock.

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Anyone seen the mainstream peace movement lately? I’m getting worried. It seems like every time things start to heat up with regard to real activism on the war the folks like Joe Gainza and the other candle-burners totally disappear.

So here’s your latest Snarky Boy challenge: Write to me and tell me what – if anything – you’re seeing from the peace folk. And, please, the vigilers at the post offices don’t count.

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Tomorrow’s the big day for the eco-crowd in Montpelier. They’re all gathering to chat and march about global warming. If you want to act like a fart at their dinner party, chime in to ask this question: When will you start to talk about the pollution of snowmobiles in Vermont? Watch ‘em squirm. Because they hate to actually get into “real” issues. They mostly want to pose and shed all the public crocodile tears they can muster. But when it comes to demanding change, they’ll run for cover faster than the VNRC’s Elizabeth Courtney can find her next SUV-driving donor.

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Speaking of the eco-crowd, anyone hear anything from VPIRG lately? With a budget of nearly a million bucks a year and a super-majority of Dems in the Statehouse, you’d think they would be making some noise and getting things done. No such luck, apparently. I guess it takes a lot of time to put salve on those footsy-playing-feet, huh?

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Speaking of Dems, they failed again today in the Statehouse. This time they bailed on their plans to move forward on a bill that would allow “instant run-off voting.” I seemed to have lost track, but this has got to be about strike number 103 for these folks, no?

If you drink the Dem Kool-Aid, please email me with ONE significant accomplishment or reason to be excited about this “super-majority” session so for. I’m waiting….

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Finally, in case you missed it, here’s a fun link for you: Free Speech Trial Set to Begin. Imagine that, Negroponte being summoned to Vermont to explain his warmongering past. Cool.

Thanks for playing. TGIF, my friends. And not a snowy moment too soon.

Remember, you can reach me via email at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com.

Obligatory Vonnegut Memorial

2007-04-12T12:40:00.000-07:00

R.I.P., Kurt. And may all the people mourning your passing have the courage to follow your lead. And so it goes....

Fire Imus! 18-More Months to Bush! Go Figure.

2007-04-12T10:42:00.000-07:00

Yo. I’m still here. As for yesterday, let me explain: Deal with it. Until you start faithfully slipping unmarked twenty dollar bills into my pocket or paying for my tab at either Sherwin Williams or Charlie O’s, then you’ll have no leg to stand on when it comes to your bitching and moaning about the “audacity” of the character you’ve come to love and hate taking a day off. Yes, love and hate. That was the point, you dopes. [Editor’s note to those who hate Snarky: just spell my name right and make sure the links work correctly.]

But, my oh my, how you all like to play along. Let’s just consider it one big living novel, huh? We’ll dip and weave, dodge and meander, cut and run and otherwise just play, pretend and/or converse as if you’re really, really important and I’m just a painter guy who labors and thinks the day away while little secret facts about the real things going on around us fall into my lap like the heavy April snow. Clear? Good. Now let’s get on with it.

With all this talk about Don Imus and his rude behavior, I almost forgot that we were in a war that was actually killing hundreds of people a day. But at least it made me forget about the trauma of who is/was/could be/should be the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s baby. Or, better yet, it almost made me totally forget that Gerald Ford is still dead. He did die, didn’t he?

I love the media. They make me forget about everything that matters. If I watch or listen to enough media, for example, I forget about Bush being the president and actually considering appointing a “war czar” to work with him. I forget all about the fact that Donald Rumsfeld is enjoying his riches and his retirement while the 150,000 soldiers he sent to an illegal war are still dodging bullets, being killed and maimed and getting inferior treatment. And I forget that our Congress is hell-bent on giving Bush more money for war and adding three months to each and every soldier’s tour of duty in Iraq. Thanks, Peter! Welch, that is.

But thanks to the media, I get 24/7 coverage of stupid coverage about one stupid man who said one stupid thing. And that helps me. It helps me a lot. Because if I didn’t have that one man and his stupid comment to worry about, I’d be worried about things like the war, impeachment, world peace, the environment, social justice, and – before I forget – the day-to-day struggle to make ends meet as a painter in a city that feels almost completely painted.

I’m just wondering why we don’t get on with it and demand that Don Imus receive the death penalty. I mean, with all this attention and outrage, the man clearly must die for his comments. Sure, we could arrange for it to be a “death with dignity,” but a death it clearly must be. Because we know that the pure America of today cannot and should not tolerate this kind of language on the airwaves. Not, of course, when the children might be listening! Oh, America, I love your purity!

If, for example, we allow the Imus’s of the world to continue with this kind of linguistic moral indecency, where will it stop? Before we know it, the press will be demanding that they be allowed to see the body bags of the soldiers heading home as corpses from Iraq. Or we’ll start to hear the voices and see the bodies of the Iraqis ravaged by the war we’re waging on their land and in their communities. Or, worse yet, they might even start to cover the kind of racism and classism that sends poor young black (and white, brown, yellow, green & purple) people to stand between bullets and oil profits. Indeed, Imus must die.

And all of the media must be cleansed! Because in a land of such moral purity (never mind the wars) and civility (never mind the real crimes) and the morals (never mind the daily bribes and lies) we cannot and should not tolerate insensitive speech! Yes, Imus must die, so that we can go on killing with the moral high ground that we need to continue to do that killing – all in the name of God, of course. Or something like that.

Oh wait, you ask, what about free speech? Whatever. That Constitution thing is sooooo yesterday.

But the real positive in all of this is that a precedent has been set. Because if Imus can be fired for offending 10 women basketball players, Bush can certainly be fired for offending the world. Ah, the silver lining is found once again.

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When we last spoke, I challenged you, dear readers, to tell me something – anything! – that the Democrats believe in enough to actually fight for. Well, here’s a summary of the comments I received: Snarky Boy is a Candy Ass. Yep, I got pummeled with comments that basically wondered about my severe naiveté, political blindness, and just plain dopiness for even contemplating a Dem cause. And, you’re right, there isn’t one. Well, except for the cause that Charity from She's Right suggested: To get elected. Yep. Two points for Charity.

--

I’ve been working double time to finish up my inside (painting) jobs, thinking, like the optimistic Vermonter that I am, that warm and dry weather is coming and your friendly blogger/painter will soon be able to don the outdoor ladders and tackle the Liberty and College Street houses that their owners think need to be repainted. That’s the bad news. The good news is that I got ahead of myself and way too Snarky snappy with some offers to go back indoors, thus serving up what looks like some extended writing time in the coming weeks. But the really, really good news is that my first “Adventures with Snarky” collection is nearing completion and, hopefully, will be ready for some public readings soon. Stay tuned, my friends.

Spaghetti-Spined Dems

2007-04-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

Quick, name an issue that a Dem leader will go to the mat on and really – I mean, really – fight for. Hurry. Name it. What? Nothing but silence. And so it is, my friends.

The Dems on every level – local, state and national – are a party without a plan. Worse, they’re a party without a heart. Like limp spaghetti thrown against the wall to see if it’s ready to be eaten, the Dems do little in today’s body politic but be tossed around limply. And what delicious treats they make for red-blooded Republicans who don’t seem to have forgotten how to draw a line in the sand and fight the first bastard who dares to cross it.

There’s been a lot in the news of late regarding the limp Dems:

Locally, the new Montpelier Dem in the Statehouse, Jon Anderson, went limp right out of the gate by turning his back on his fellow Dems and handing yet another victory to Republican Governor Douglas. Anderson, as we all know by now, voted against his party’s wishes and sided with a Douglas veto of a budget bill.

In Burlington, the Dems shunned a Prog to vote for Republican Kurt Wright to lead their City Council. I guess the Burlington Dems have never heard that little saying about cutting off your nose to spite your face.

In the Statehouse, the Dem leader of the Senate, Peter Shumlin, has now proven that he won’t stand up for his beliefs by giving the pro-impeachment crowd this message in today’s newspapers: “It’s time for them to come to the reality that we are not going to have time for [impeachment].” And this from a guy who just a couple of weeks ago championed the issue, grabbed headlines on it, and raised the hopes of those same people he now wants to lecture about “reality.” Silly people, didn’t you realize that “reality’ to a modern Dem is to talk one way and act another?

And nationally, of course, we have Dems like our own Welch, Sanders and Leahy talking the tough talk about the war but then handing what amounts to a blank check to the Bush team to continue the fighting.

But let’s get back to the original question: Is there an issue on the legislative table – locally or nationally – that the Dems will absolutely and positively fight for? I don’t see it. And you?

And while it’s easy – and a whole lot of fun! -- to simply blame these Dem leaders for their spineless political endeavors, it fails to take into account that these elected Dems were elected by a constituency that represents a mirror image of their leaders’ spinelessness. Worse, the Dem constituency has become little more than enablers for the do-nothingness of their leaders, defending them every step of their blind way and, even worse, refusing to push them like they should be pushed.

Which is to say, there is no Dem movement. No Dem cause. No hardcore Dem belief system that they themselves believe in enough to stand up for, be counted for, take risks for or, damn it, fight for.

Instead, the Dems are about cheering the candidates and ignoring those same candidates’ stands on the issues (or lack thereof). And the Dem candidates have perfected the art of throwing their voters the red meat during the campaign season and then throwing them to the wind when the legislating begins. And the Dem constituency – just as moribund when it comes to passion for a political platform – just continues to play along, seemingly happy with the spineless meandering and the condescending finger-wags like Welch’s “it’s time to come to reality” put down.

But the reality, Mr. Shumlin, is that you and your party have no reality. You are lost. You are rudderless. And in your constant repositioning for the next election, you’ve forgotten how to lead and how to fight for – or even define! -- your core beliefs.

There is just no other way to describe how a Vermont legislature with Dems controlling a “super-majority” could fail to move on anything of real substance or consequence to its constituency. Zero. Nada. Zippo.

I’m just wondering how long the Dem cheerleaders and Kool-aid drinkers in the rank and file are going to keep sitting on their hands and letting their leaders do absolutely nothing about the problems they pretend to care about during election season. Enough already.

Oh wait, I forgot about the great savior, Obama! Of course, Obama will save the day with his strong positions on….on….on…oh never mind, he’s just got a great personality! Oh fuck, here we go again…

P.S. Let me know if you think of that issue that the Dems really, really care about. I’d really, really like to know. Email me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Monday Random Blogging

2007-04-09T10:06:00.000-07:00

Yikes. Crazy weekend. You’d think with much of the world preoccupied with their various religious idolatry that a snarky bastard like me would just be left alone to stew in my own sins. No such luck. Because it seemed like more than a few of you were intent on playing the holier than thy card and – simultaneously -- trying to verbally kick my ass. Whatever. But I’m thrilled that I’ve got your attention. Just give me some to respond to all your emails, please.

Now, let’s play the game of Monday random blogging.

First up is the news that Vermont Rep. Peter Welch is off to Iraq this week. Let’s face it, these trips are stupid, stupid and stupid. What in the hell does a congressman like Welch think they’ll be able to determine on such a trip? And this one’s all about political paybacks from Nancy Pelosi, who liked the fact that her new pet, Peter, went out on the political limb with her and voted to give Bush more money for war. Thanks, Peter.

So, in exchange for Peter’s vote for 18 more months of war, Vermont’s congressman gets an all-expense-paid trip to the war zone and all the photo-ops he’ll be able to muster. Then, of course, he’ll come home with the most studied solemn look he can muster and – trust me – utter these words: “I was moved by what I saw. And I’m convinced more than ever that our timetable is the right decision.”

Because no one ever comes back from one of these trips with anything but a transparent confirmation of what they thought when the gift of the trip was first presented to them. Can you say: Ego-tripping? I knew you could.

Consider, for example, John McCain’s recent trip to Baghdad. This old dope went to Iraq to prove how lovely a place it has become and then just looked really dopey trying to maintain that line of reasoning while he was there. Sorry, but if it takes 100-plus soldiers, a flack jacket and a helmet to allow you to declare how “safe” it is there, it’s not gonna be real believable.

Welcome to the unseemly world of politics and political paybacks – a world Peter obviously knows very, very well. So while Peter continues to play his lovely game of footsy with the Dem leadership, his constituents are still wondering when he’s going to listen to us and – better yet – his own rhetoric from the campaign last fall.

Speaking of which, the Sunday Times Argus/Rutland Herald featured a nice exchange between Welch and a constituent over the weekend. You can read Welch’s defense of his pro-war vote here and his constituent’s call for no more war funding here.

It’s too bad Peter didn’t get to Iraq in time to be a part of the Iraqi protest yesterday in which, according to the New York Times, tens of thousands of Iraqis took to the streets to demand that the U.S. armed forces get out of their country – now. Peter would have definitely needed the speakerphone for that exchange. And I wonder how those folks would have taken his jive about being against the war but still willing to give Bush an additional 18 months and $100 billion?

The Pope, too, doesn’t seem to have much more patience for what he’s calling the “continual slaughter” in Iraq. In his Easter address yesterday, the high and mighty one to the world’s 1.1 billion Catholics asked this question:

''Suffering, evil, injustice, death, especially when it strikes the innocent such as children who are victims of war and terrorism, of sickness and hunger, does not all of this put our faith to the test?''

Well, sure, that and that silly hat he was wearing.

No lightning strikes yet. Whew.

So let’s review. Those lining up against the Iraq war and an immediate end to it are: A vast majority of the Iraqi public, a vast majority of the American public, a very, very vast majority of the world’s citizens, the Pope and Snarky Boy (sorry I just really, really wanted to use that line).

And those still dragging their feet are the President, a very wimpy Congress, including our own Peter Welch, the vast majority of military contractors, and the very, very vast majority of oil industry executives.

Wow. Ain’t democracy grand?

[Reminder: Send your quips, tips and comments to me at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

The Shumlin Shakedown: Say One Thing, Do Another and Blame Others

2007-04-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

If Gaye Symington, the Speaker of Vermont’s House of Representatives, would bother to turn around once in awhile and see who it is that keeps pushing her into one losing political battle after another, she’d see the happy hands of Senate President Peter Shumlin. These two rivaling Dems who should be reveling in the dreamland of having veto-proof majorities are, instead, locked in a scorpion-like fight toward their own political deaths. And it would make a great sporting event if Vermonters weren’t counting on them to actually get something done.

But, once again, the joke’s on us, folks. Us, as in: the fine people of Vermont who trudge to the polls every two years thinking this state really is different, that our citizen legislature really does listen, and that our politicians are going to solve problems not just dance around them like props for their next campaign photo-op. And, frankly, that sucks.

The toxic rivalry between Shumlin and Symington began over a job called the governorship. When this legislative session began with all the hope and hype the Dems could muster, the word on the street was that one of these two Dem leaders was going to be coming out of the session looking like a front-runner to challenge Douglas in 2008. Now, however, it looks like they’re now going to be fighting about who’s going to be getting into the political ambulance first.

Let’s face it, Shumlin and Symington are just plain fucking up – big time. They’re fumbling on every major issue that Vermonters expected them to address (taxes, health care, education funding, etc.) and ignoring the issues their hardcore constituents would like them to address (Iraq war, impeachment, etc.). And, no matter how you add it up, you get little but a big, fat zero.

Worse, the dysfunctional Shumlin/Symington duo are so preoccupied with making the other look like the ass that they’re forgetting that the public can very clearly see that they’re both acting like three-year olds in a protracted battle. After a while, all you hear is the screaming and the finger pointing but you realize neither one of them remembers how it began or, better yet, that they’re in the same play group. So off to their rooms – er, houses – they go, seemingly satisfied that they isolated the other without noticing their own isolation.

Like I said, the joke’s on us. Damn it.

While slick Shumlin is pretending that he’s coming out better than Symington in this mess of a legislative session, I think he’s in for a rude awakening in the end. He has, for example, been rocking Symington back on her heels by running to the media first on a number of issues and saying he’s “waiting for the House to act first.” And, so far, Symington’s been falling for it, even to the point of getting all weepy over getting her political ass whipped from the left by Shummy and the right by the Guv.

But, sooner or later, the public is going to realize what a slimeball Shumlin’s been during his first few months back into politics after repairing his relationship with his wife. Hmm, what’s next, some time away from his wife to repair his relationship with Symington and his fellow Dems? And around and around he goes…

Take, for example, the impeachment issue. A few weeks ago, Shumlin put his finger into the political winds and noticed a strong gust from the pro-impeachment crowd – especially those who form the activist base of the Dems (you know, the folks who vote in primaries that he thinks he’ll need in the not-so-distant future). So Shumlin marched himself to the Dems’ statewide meeting and made a big rhetorical show of his support for the impeachment of President Bush. And the crowd – and the media – went wild, heralding Shumlin as the courageous man of the people.

But now those same people are trying to gingerly remove the hooks from the mouths. Because, you see, Senator Shumlin was just playing political games with them – shamelessly. Worse, his little game was not only about grandstanding for himself but – of course – also taking a big political dump on Symington. It’s the one-two punch those in the Statehouse have come to expect from the politically-reborn Shumlin.

You see, when Shumlin was asked how he was going to put his new-found impeachment fondness into action, he turned and pointed his finger right at Symington, saying “she’s got to move an impeachment resolution in the House first.”

Nice try, Senator, but – with all due respect – you’re full of shit and you know it. As all of us who didn’t sleep through Civics 101 remember, legislation can be introduced in either the House or the Senate. But Shumlin was hoping like hell we’d all forget that not-so-insignificant fact and, instead, let him talk about impeachment to appease his base and walk away from it to screw his colleague in the House (hey, she won’t act on it!). Like I said, it’s slimy. Not to mention gutless and transparent. Or, should I just say, very Dem like in this modern age of leaderless Dems.

The tide is turning on Shumlin, though. He seems to have gotten away with a few months of this kind of political gamesmanship (read: backstabbing colleagues like Symington). But it’s starting to wear thin amongst his colleagues and in the media. Yo, Shummy, people talk, you know – especially when they’ve got one of your knives in their back. Ouch.

It’s too bad Symington hates politics as much as she does, because the solution to this Shumlin nonsense is quite easy: Call his bluff, start moving significant legislation in the House (beginning with impeachment), stay in contact with the media, and build some alliances with the growing number of Dems in Shumlin’s Senate who are just waiting for the opportunity to knock him down a few pegs (just ask Senator Doug Racine). Oh wait, what do they call that? Oh yeah, politics.

So get going. The people of Vermont are waiting.

Only In Barre: Cross-Dressing Mayor Tripped Up By Thong Loophole

2007-04-05T08:37:00.000-07:00

You know, sometimes even Snarky Boy can be shocked by the oddness of the so-called real news. In other words, sometimes you just can’t even make this shit up. And, let’s face it, Barre’s Mayor Thom Lauzon is the gift that keeps giving when it comes to the delightful combination of whack jobs and real news.

Yes, you remember Thommy-boy, don’t you? If not, here’s a quick refresher course: He’s the Barre mayor who is strangely wedded to the Sisyphean task of trying to take the Barre out of Barre. Worse, he’s got one hell of a Napoleon complex. Thommy has, for example, tried to close the town’s titty bar, forbid certain x-mas signs, called for the death penalty for drug dealers (hell, there goes his tax base), cross-dressed for cash and promoted a curfew for Barre’s youth. Oh yeah, and did I mention that he’s done all of this with the kind of “hey, look at me” obnoxious self-promotion that would make Donald Trump blush?

Hey, wait a second, I think I’m onto something there: Lauzon IS Barre’s Donald Trump, just without the comb-over (yet), the money, the talent or the location. As they say in the real estate market: location, location, location.

But Lauzon’s tacky like Trump. He owns tons of real estate like Trump. He thinks people care about his opinions like Trump. He’s got some over-the-top self-love going on like Trump. And, better yet, he owns one of George Steinbrenner’s horses like Trump. Yo Thommy, you’re on your way…

But before old Thommy-boy gets too full of himself, let’s get back to that location thing. Dude, you’re the mayor of Barre! And no matter how many superfluous “h’s” you add to your first name, you’re still just the mayor of Barre. So whenever you get that urge to go into that Trump role, why don’t you come down from your little horsy farm on the hill and stand in the parking lot of Barre’s real and true hotspot, Dunkin Donuts, and repeat these lines: This is my town. This is my town. This is my town. And then leave it – and us – alone. Please?

Lauzon, you see, is a master of saying off-the-wall things, getting the media to cover it, and then pretending he’s some kind of media darling. But someone over in Barre has got to whisper these few words into his tin ear: We’re laughing at you, Thommy, not with you.

Lauzon, for example, made the newspapers again this week with the news that he failed in his self-imposed Barre purification project to close the town’s second biggest hotspot, Planet Rock (aka: the titty bar). Lauzon, as you may know, has been bird dogging the titty bar for a long, long time, trying to pass and enforce town ordinances that legislate three-foot distances between dancers and patrons and also trying to regulate the employee to patron ratio. Yo Thommy, got something better to do?

I’m guessing that Thommy-boy is just frustrated that he hasn’t had the gumption to actually walk into Planet Rock. I’ll bet he got the idea for all these stupid ordinances while driving around and around the block trying to get a peep inside the window each time he went by, only being frustrated by his lack of seeing anything but the delight on the faces of the customers coming in and out. Curses!

When Thommy got all heavy handed with Planet Rock, its owner, Danny Garr, a true hero to the working man in Barre, fired back with lawsuits against Lauzon and every Barre City Councilor who voted in favor of the strip club crackdown. And, earlier this week, Garr won by agreeing to drop the lawsuits if the city agreed to hand him $7,500 in damages, stop enforcing their silly new rules, and allow him to start operating again. And the city’s attorneys advised that they accept Garr’s demands because the court cases would be hard to win – not to mention bizarre and embarrassing. Again, don’t they have something better to do?

Here’s the money quote from the Times Argus’ coverage of the settlement:

“Confronted with a case that would likely have turned on the definition of ‘nude’ and ‘lewd’ the city’s lawyers advised councilors to agree to the settlement and put the matter behind them.”

Emphasis on the word “behind,” please. As in: Ass. As in: The Mayor is an ass-face for taking this thing this far.

Garr and his lawyers were loaded for bare(ness) on this one, too. [I know, I know, that was bad but I’m getting bored.] They were prepared to turn the three-foot rule on its head, complete with plenty of head-turning testimony on what constitutes nudity, lewdness or – in the case of the mayor – stupidity. I’m just bummed that those of us who wanted to see this case will be denied what could have been a most memorable courtroom moment when Garr’s attorneys introduced the photo of Mayor Thom in the pink dress he recently wore in public. Anything for attention, huh Mayor?

But Garr’s lawyers, for example, were ready to argue successfully that the charges that one of the Planet Rock dancers “illegally” buried a man’s face in her chest were unfounded. Why? Well, because the “lewd” statute the Mayor and his uptight band of no-fun enforcers were citing would have required the dancer to be nude. And she wasn’t – she was wearing a thong! Gotta love a defense based on the thong loophole, huh? But, believe it or not, it’s this “thin” piece of evidence – along with city attorneys smart enough to sniff out a waste of time – that put an end to this episode of “Let’s Watch the Mayor Be Stupid – Barre Edition.”

Yo Thommy, enough with this nonsense. Go get yourself a lap dance, work this shit out of your system and – please – let Barre be Barre. I’ll be looking for you at Dunkin Donuts….

Spin Baby, Spin

2007-04-04T10:54:00.000-07:00

Boy, things are tight around here. Where I’m painting, that is. It seems that as the tension builds between the legislature and the Guv’s office over the state budget the state employees get more than a bit edgy. Even the nice lady who has been allowing me access to some state-sponsored Internet access at lunchtime has been sassy today. Maybe it’s the budget. Maybe it’s the weather. But, whatever it is, this place is just plain uptight today.

So, before I get my head bit off for smudging a keyboard or taking too much time at a desk that would otherwise sit idle, let’s get some lunchtime blogging in.

Speaking of the budget tension, I hope Darren Allen over at the Agency of Natural Resources (ANR) and formerly of the Vermont Press Bureau is keeping his resume dusted off. Because, as the guy who took Allen’s place at the Press Bureau, Louis Porter, has reported today, the House Dems are taking aim at some of the “communications professionals” that are popping up like cluster flies in a sunny farmhouse window.

Specifically, the Dems have slashed funding for nine communications positions, including flack jobs at the Agency of Agriculture, Human Services, Natural Resources (that’s Darren’s job), Transportation and Public Service. Of course, the Dems in the Senate will have to go along with these cuts and then the Guv will have to sign the budget into law before poor Darren and his eight flacking friends have to return to the real world of work.

Personally, this all smells like one big Gaye Symington tantrum. The Queen Speaker is clearly rip-snort over the way the press has been treating her of late. But she apparently hasn’t come to grips with the fact that she’s handing them the negative stories as eagerly as the families on Liberty Street hand out Halloween candy.

“Hi!” Gaye seemingly greets each reporter, “whom do you write for? Okay, sit down and let me tell you how hard I’m working at doing nothing and – once I get the tears worked up – you can snap some pictures of me crying.”

Then, of course, she’ll talk about that stupid “big hug” she and Senate leader Shumlin had with the Guv at the beginning of the session. Yeah, that hug, the one where Douglas tried not to crack a smile when he told them he really wanted to be one big team this legislative session, hoping like hell that Symington and Shumlin would forget that they have veto-proof majorities and could make his life miserable.

“Big hug!” the Guv called out, knowing how much liberals love meaningless hugs. And, of course, they obliged and went on their merry and meandering ways, so far failing to so much as challenge a governor who – somehow – is holding the short-end of the stick but wielding all the power. Douglas must be one hell of a hugger…

Wait. Where was I? Oh yeah, Symington’s tantrum. Indeed, since the spin coming out of the state government isn’t making her look to sharp, she’s going to take a shot at the Guv’s spinmeisters. And while I think the spinmeister’s are as worthless to the state government as she apparently does, it’s a mistake to spin this as Douglas’ doing because old Howard – Dean, that is – was the one who put many of these flack positions on the payroll to begin with.

Douglas’ Secretary of Administration, Michael Smith, tried his hand at spin while defending the state government’s 14-paid flacks by saying that they do more than just talk to their former colleagues – er, make that, reporters.

“They help people navigate through the complexities of state government,” he told the the Press Bureau’s Porter before – ahem -- asking for his resume.

Nice try, Mike. But all you really did was substitute the word “reporters” for the word “people.” Here, I’ll put the word back so you can see what he was really saying without the spin:

“They help REPORTERS navigate through the complexities of state government.”

Indeed, as in: “Here’s all you need to know for the story you’re snooping around for. Call me if you have questions. And, by the way, the first beer’s on me…”

After I mentioned Darren Allen the other day, I received a number of reported Darren-sightings from you, dear readers. But I also received an email copy of his weekly work product at the ANR, very uncleverly called “Dateline: ANR.” And so, with the words of Mike Smith still fresh in your minds, consider the way in which Darren himself spoke about his work to his fellow ANRers:

“Here's today's edition of Dateline:ANR. A friendly reminder to keep those clips coming, and if you'd like to see your good work end up in the state's newspapers and broadcast outlets, let me know about all upcoming events, celebrations, achievements as far in advance as you can. We're looking to keep ANR's good works in the news.”

Hmm, smells like pure spin to me – with nary a mention of “helping people navigate through the complexities of state government.”

Can’t both sides just be honest on this one? The Guv’s office should admit the role of the flacks and the Dems should admit they’ve got sour grapes and want nothing more than 14 flacks of their own.

And then, when they’ve settled this, can they move onto taxes, health care, school funding, the war, etc.?

Snark on. And keep those snarky tips coming my way. Email me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com

Imagine That: April is Vermont's Alcohol Awareness Month

2007-04-03T10:52:00.000-07:00

I guess it was alcohol day on the front page of our Barre-Montpelier Times Argus today. Because three of the four featured articles had to do with it. The gathering at McGilluddy’s got the top spot, including a photo of Ken Squire and Governor Jim Douglas reveling in the ninniness of Red Sox nation. But there are was also the article right below it on the fella in Waterbury who’s offering his bicycle services to inebriated bar patrons and, just below that, an article about the growing alcohol problem in Vermont.

Yikes. It’s enough to make me want a drink.

Since I’ve already bored the snot out of you about the McGillicuddy’s adventure (hey, I read your comments, you know), let’s look at the other two drinking pieces.

In the piece entitled, “Soused? Waterbury Man Rides to the Rescue,” Daphne Larkin profiles Waterbury resident Alan Aitken’s services to drive pub-crawlers who are, indeed, crawling, a ride home. But when the accompanying photo features Larkin on a bicycle, the adventuring side of my drinking self said: Cool. Imagine that, go out, have too many beers, and then get this Aitken fella to try and prop you on his bike and have one hell of a ride from Waterbury’s Alchemist to my downtown Montpelier apartment. Or wait, given the time it would probably take – falling off the bike and all – perhaps he should just take me straight to work…

No such luck, though. Because it’s only Aitken who gets to ride the bike. You see, his service is about using your car, as in: he puts his bike in your car, drives you home in it, drops you off and then bikes himself back to his home. Now that’s a community service.

Here are the only caveats: You must live or be partying within 15 miles of Waterbury Village for these services to be available. And, according to the Time Argus, here’s the fee schedule: $40 to get you and your car home; $5 off if you have your own bike rack or a pick-up truck so he doesn’t have to haul his rack; $2 off “if the customer doesn’t puke;” $3 off for pre-arranged reservations; and $1 per mile “ride-back fee.”

But, Aitken tells the Times Argus, “a lot of this is negotiable.” Well, I’d hope the puking part isn’t. Come on, buddy, stand firm on the puking. Or, rather, stand away from it. Whatever.

Unfortunately, Aitken has homed in on a growing DUI industry in Vermont. Currently, there are about 14 DUI arrests a day – yes, a day – in Vermont.

And that leads us to the third article, “New Vermont Web Site Has a Sobering Test.” According to Daniel Barlow – the new hotshot at the main offices of the Vermont Press Bureau – “April is alcohol awareness month and Vermont has some sobering statistics to confront when it considers its own consumption.” Uh-ho, why do I feel like my buzz it about to get trampled upon?

State statistics show that Vermonters drink more than the national average – 64% of Vermonters drink while the national average is 55%. And 15% of Vermonters report some kind of “binge drinking.”

But wait, I’m still stuck on the fact that April is alcohol awareness month. And as I look outside at the unbearable grayness of it all and the mud to boot, I guess I understand why. Give me a fucking drink already. Hey, it’s not often that a bastard like me can claim camaraderie with 64% of the population. Hell, I’ll take it where I can get it. Burp.

But the absolute best part of the article on problem drinking in Vermont is the concluding quote from Barbara Cimaglio, the deputy commissioner for the alcohol and drug abuse program for the Department of Health (now there’s a title that’ll drive you to drink): “Over the last several years, the legislature and the governor have really given us the resources to tackle the problem.”

Yeah, but it’s really too bad on the same day the Vermont drinking problem was being highlighted in the paper that the lead photo in that same paper is of the Guv partying down in – ahem – a downtown bar. Oops.

Sorry, it’s back to work for this painter guy. Speaking of which, here’s an old painting joke: Which came first, the painter or the drinker?

We’ll talk later….

Wait'll Next Year?

2007-04-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

Well, that was fun. The after work trip to McGillicuddy’s, that is. Trying to prove that we, too, could stay until the clock struck four, we stayed until – well – four. Hey, there ain’t no overtime in painting. Or, should I say, I haven’t been able to find it yet.

So off we went, trekking to the sports bar like any good work fellows should on the real opening day of Major League Baseball – last night’s sissy game between the Mets & Cardinals doesn’t count. And this was no regular opening day bonanza at the sports bar owned by Yankee fanatic and Montpelier High School boys basketball coach Dave Nelson. Nope, because, as mentioned at lunchtime, Dave and his rather Neanderthal-like sports bar crew were hosting the 2004 World Series Trophy won by – damn it – the once-in-a-century mighty Red Sox.

And that’s not even the special part. The real treat was hanging with WDEV’s Ken Squire as he tried to enjoy a quiet beer with Nelson’s wife and a blond hottie he was sharing a booth with. Everyone, you see, seemed to want a piece of Ken. I especially got a kick out of the semi-inebriated Sox fan who noticed all the glad-handing of Ken and then turned to ask the rest of us in the cheap seats, “Hey, is that guy famous?”

Oh yeah. But his dog is more talented. And he’d say the same – the dog, that is.

While this was billed as a Red Sox fan day at the bar, Nelson was in rare form as he barely controlled his glee at over-charging Red Sox fans to see a trophy they could see for free elsewhere. But, better yet, Nelson had almost every one of his gazillion televisions tuned to the Yankees’ opening game. Take that, idiots!

When I bumped into Nelson and told him he had no shame, he blamed the whole thing on Squire.

“Squire wanted to have this celebration here to stick it to me,” he told me. “And so I needed to stick it back a little.” Yep.

Nelson didn’t need to bother, though. Because only moments after I sat down the Yankees won their opening game, causing the chirping Sox fans to slump just a little in their pre-season cockiness. But the slumping only continued as the Sox took the field for their opening game against the lowly Kansas City Royals and proceeded to get their asses handed to them, 7-1. Ouch.

Wait’ll next year, huh?

Monday Lunchtime Blogging

2007-04-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Oh fuck. Six cups of coffee and I’m still dragging. Oh well, I knew I was gonna pay for that glorious weekend. But did it have to turn so goddamn gray and ugly so fast? Welcome to April, my friends.

It’s been one of those mornings, you know. I can’t find the right music in my iPod and headphones (the office folk don’t want to be bothered), Mark Johnson’s covering the dreadful Colby Military Writer’s Seminar at Norwich, and I’m working with the kind of crew that would make watching paint dry seem stimulating. Oh wait, that's what we ARE doing. Never mind.

Yep, it's one of those mornings. And I think it’s time I found a real job. You know, the kind of job like the people here in this office building have, where they chat with co-workers, chat with their spouses who seem to call every hour, chat with their bosses about kiss-ass chit-chat, surf the net, play computer games, go to lunch, and then repeat the above until it’s time to go home at about 4. And would you like full benefits with that?

But thank goodness for the little lady who runs the ship in this little neck of the state office woods. Well, she’s actually just the secretary but – trust me – she’s running the place. Nothing gets by her. And no one fucks with her. She does, after all, know everything about just how much dilly-dallying is going on. So when she gives the thumbs-up to my pursuit of some state-sponsored computer time, no one says a word about the rules dictating otherwise. Ha!

Hell, I thought that all the bashing of the Dem legislature that I’ve been doing lately would certainly lead to a phone call from the Guv’s office offering up one of those plum “communications” jobs. But no luck there. Yet. And they know where to reach me…

Note to the Guv and his team of merry men: I’ll give you 48 hours to put me on the Darren Allen track of high wages and little work or I’m going to blow the whistle on the fact that Jim Douglas is, indeed, the adult Harry Potter. You’ve been warned.

Speaking of Darren Allen, anyone seen or heard anything from him? Ah, just as Douglas wanted, I assume. Not to mention his former readers. And poor Anthony Pollina, the tongue-tied radio guy and so-called progressive who picked Allen of all people to be his “inside the media” contact, is – once again – left looking like a loser. Oh well, if the shoe fits. Who’s he gonna pick next, Marselis Parsons?

Speaking of Pollina, anyone seen any of these dairy products he’s supposed to be producing? I’ve been looking and looking and looking but haven’t found a trace of them anywhere. Is he just fucking with us? I mean, who in the hell is going to go to Hardwick to see if the plant really exists? Volunteers? I didn’t think so.

I’m just glad it’s April 2nd and April Fool’s Day is over. I hate April Fool’s Day, mostly because it seems like a day when everyone who is NOT funny thinks that they are. Ugh. You know what I’m talking about, too. They’re the same kinds of people who wear those stupid fucking Santa hats at x-mas time and act like it’s unique and clever – until you see every other yahoo doing the same. Nyuck. Nyuck.

This year, it was the Vermont blogosphere that put me in a terrible April Fool’s mood. Please, try to find the humor here, here or here. Go ahead and click the links and read – I’ll wait for you.

See what I mean? Not funny. In fact, not even clever.

I’ve got a way with making friends, huh?

Finally, the big news: It’s baseball season. And that means it’s time for all the Red Sox fans to talk tough, pretend “this is the year,” and pretend that an 0-0 record means that they’re hanging tough with the Yankees already. Whatever.

And if you really want to know how pathetic Red Sox fans are, go watch them line up at Montpelier’s McGillicuddy’s Pub this afternoon to take a look at the 2004 World Series Trophy that will be on display there. Yep, three years later and they’re still acting like it was yesterday. Oh well, three years down and 83 to go until the next Red Sox trophy comes around. Enjoy it fellas.

The best part about the traveling trophy coming to McGillicuddy’s is that the owner, Dave Nelson, is a die-hard Yankees’ fan. Better yet, he’s come up with the genius scheme of charging people $30 to come into his bar today to get a shitty slab of lasagna and the “opportunity” to get a photo of yourself with the trophy. Smart guy. And, if you go, Dave will be the guy in the corner counting his money and loving every second of his mighty Red Sox fan shakedown. Suckers.

Oh hell, I’ve got to get back to work. We’ll talk later.

Take That, Dems: Douglas Picks Anderson to Fill Brooks’ Seat

2007-03-30T14:32:00.000-07:00

Boy, sometimes it just feels like Governor Douglas and his staff are having all the fun. First, the Dems in the House and the Senate are doing absolutely nothing to frighten him. Next, they run to their rooms like little schoolchildren whenever he so much as says “boo.” And now he’s ever so gleefully sticking his finger in the Montpelier Dem elites by announcing this afternoon that he’s appointing Jon Anderson to replace Francis Brooks in the Vermont House.

Of course, Snarky Boy readers will have already known that this was going to happen – because Snarky Boy does his homework and I wrote about it weeks ago. Unlike the dopey Dem sites like Green Mountain Daily that went a typical zero-for-three in its predictions for who was going to get the nod from the Guv. [Note to Odum: It looks really, really silly when you tout your wife for a job she didn’t have a prayer in landing. There must be easier ways to get laid, my friend.]

The Dems, in response, will do what they always do: They will pout, throw a tantrum and cry about how unfair it all is. Boo-fucking-hoo. But let’s face it, when you show no teeth, no focus, no leadership, you gotta expect the Guv and his team of fun-loving advisors to keep poking you.

The Montpelier Dems were banking on the Guv picking the town’s mayor, Mary Hooper, to fill the seat. In fact, Mary was all but wearing the crown, even doing little to quiet the rumors that once she was in the House she’d be looking for a step up to the Senate (taking on racer Phil Scott). Well, so much for that. I guess she’ll just have to remain content with her volunteer-mayoralship.

The dwindling left-wing of the Capital Dems weren’t, however, thrilled with Hooper. And it’s not hard to understand why: Hooper is the epitome of the milquetoast Dem. In fact, she’d make a weathervane seem consistent.

Hooper and her “hey, that’s not fair” supporters will now be putting out the word in their little insider whisper-fests that she’ll be challenging Anderson in a primary in 2008. But I’d bet that many of her supporters will have about as much of a backbone on that threat as the Dems have on ending the war. Ahem, that would be zero. Damn, there’s that number again. Instead, I’ll bet Anderson plays his cards right over the next year and a half, watches the suckling Dems come suckling, and then scares bland Mary from even entering the race.

TGIF, my friends.

Pure Political Gossip

2007-03-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

Hey gang. Getting through it. Hourly by hourly. Day by day. Stroke by stroke. But, hey, things could be worse. I could be Tasha Wallis. She’s Governor Douglas’ Commissioner of Buildings and Grounds. And it an age of sick state government buildings turning up faster than Bush’s ethics lapses, let’s just say she’s not a real popular lady.

In ordinary times, being the Commissioner of Buildings and Grounds wouldn’t be a too stressful job. In fact, you’d probably best consider it either a stepping-stone toward something bigger and better or a cruise toward retirement. It’s not often that those holding that job get the white-hot spotlight of citizen and employee anger aimed right at them.

But it’s been no picnic for Tasha. And while the dopey Dems are trying to make this into another two-bit party fight, they’d better do a little boning up on Tasha’s resume before they go too far down that road. Hint: Tasha broke into the Vermont government scene as a policy analyst for the Dean team.

The word I’m getting from the inside – oh, okay, the stuff people will tell a painter in their office – is that the friction between the state employees and the Douglas Administration – especially Wallis – is starting to boil over, especially in light of the memo she put out trying to gag state employees from speaking to the media.

Worse, it seems as though there are more claims of sick government buildings coming our way soon. Could it be that those poorly designed and hideously ugly buildings of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s are little more than germ factories and boredom repositories? It would seem from my conversations with the working folk that Tasha ought to put more energy on fixing the buildings and less into silencing the state employees. Trust me, Tasha, people love to talk – especially state workers.

Speaking of Douglas, don’t be surprised if you see him with a little extra spring in his step nowadays. You see, this was supposed to be the legislative session whereby he was supposed to be “under siege” from the veto-proof Dem majorities in BOTH houses of the Vermont legislature. But, for some reason, the Dems have been more interested in fighting amongst themselves than doing ANYTHING to make Douglas uncomfortable yet.

So far, the closest they got was with the so-called Death with Dignity bill that didn’t even make it far enough for Douglas to even bother mentioning the “veto” word. And, please, if Speaker Gaye Symington was trying to prove that she can’t herd cats – er, make that, Dems – she did a fine job by bring the bill to the floor, voting for it herself and then watching it go down in flames. That’s not leading, Gaye; that’s losing. And, yes, that was laughter and celebrating you were hearing from the Guv’s office that night. And the theme? Thanks, Gaye.

Oh sure, there were also those war resolutions, but – like anyone who understands the bullshit nature of them – Douglas just let the Dems play in that sandbox as long as they wanted to. It was, as we know, just a resolution.

Trust me, Douglas isn’t sweating a thing. In fact, he’s loving the Dem in-fighting, the growing nervousness about who’s gonna be the fall-guy or girl against him in 2008, and the near-complete lack of an agenda-setting spine from the Dems. In other words, what should have been a rather troubling session has been little but a cakewalk for the Guv.

Where, for example, are the Dems on health care? While they tried to blame Douglas on the silly Catamount Plan that will only go down as one big stall toward a real solution, they’ve now got the power to do whatever they supposedly wanted to do in the last session. Hell, they can even override the threatened veto. But they haven’t moved. And they won’t.

Instead, the Dems seem utterly – and stupidly – content with doing very little and trying to make themselves feel good about it. Consider, for example, the absolute glee they felt when they learned – rightly or wrongly – from the public that they didn’t want the legislature “going too fast” on the school funding issues. The Dems treated this news like some kind of victory.

“See,” they oh-so-happily declared, “the public doesn’t want us to do anything!”

Hmm, strange way to lead, for sure. And, please, would someone please tell them that they ARE leaders.

But the Guv and his political team have got Symington & Co. wrapped around their little fingers. And if she strays too far afield, all they have to do is whisper this in her ear: Civil Unions. Because Gaye is always so quick to remind her backroom supporters what happened to the Dem majorities the last time they held them: They got all “radical” and passed the civil union legislation [history reminder: the Dems got bounced from majority status in the next election]. But, I would argue, they got bounced more because they didn’t stand up and fight for their beliefs. And there’s nothing worse than a pol doing something historical and then hiding from it. Hell, they couldn’t even get Howard Dean out of the fucking closet to sign the damn bill. Yeah, that’ll show ‘em.

It’s about principles, you idiots. Say it. Do it. And believe it. And as George Bush has tragically shown, people will actually vote for that kind of consistency. Moreover, voters will NOT vote for a crew that says they want to solve health care and then won’t even introduce legislation to address it; that says they believe Bush has trashed the Constitution and committed high crimes and misdemeanors against the people but won’t allow impeachment resolutions to even have a vote (Thanks, Gaye); that talk about high school taxes but throw a party when they get so much as a hint that they can “go slow” on the issue; that talks a tough game at election time about stopping the war but then vote to give the same president they’ve called a criminal more than $120 billion to just carry on.

It’s really quite bizarre.

Finally, let me end this episode of snark with a bit of pure media gossip. Peter Freyne of Seven Days gave more ink to Burlington City Councilor Tim Ashe (P-Ward 3) in his column this week. And while I hear he’s a great guy from most, I read it and wondered why he’s so frequently getting mentioned by Freyne but so infrequently by anyone else in the media. Even Freyne seems to be questioning his own decision to give him ink when, after announcing that Ashe may run for council president, he concludes: “…it doesn’t look like he’s got a chance at council presidency.”

Well, yeah, we all know that. So why the ink, Peter? Hmm, could it be that Tim Ashe is the boyfriend and housemate to one of Peter’s bosses, Paula Routly? And while there’s clearly nothing wrong with the connection, it would seem more than a bit appropriate to disclose this little fact while writing about his political aspirations in the paper his lover publishes and edits, no? Imagine the field day Peter would have if the Free Press pulled this kind of stunt….

[Reminder: Tips, comments and feedback can be sent to me at: VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com]

Civil Disobedience: A Personal Account

2007-03-28T17:55:00.000-07:00

You know, the best thing about watching brushes and rollers go back and forth on walls all day long is letting yourself fall into the rather Zen-like nature of it all. When the office ninnies aren’t distracting you with their near-constant chatter born from boredom and you let the bullshit of your own life slip away, it’s like getting paid to meditate. Okay, okay, that state is rare but when it hits you, it hits you hard. And it hit me hard today.

I went softly into that space today while pondering the actions of civil disobedience over the last couple of weeks that I had the pleasure to be a part of. And notice I said, “be a part of,” because, contrary to the dopey rumors, I didn’t lead anything. Let’s be clear: I followed – very, very willingly.

But my mind kept getting hung up on the intense disconnect between what I experienced at these sit-ins at Congressman Peter Welch’s and Senator Bernie Sanders’ offices and what I read about them in the newspapers and – yes – blogosphere. Frankly, what I read had next to nothing to do with what I experienced. And that’s a shame.

First, what I read had to do with unlawful behavior, police, handcuffs, arrests, tension between the office staff and the protesters, and – sadly – about “unrealistic” radicals “not understanding the process” and, well, wasting our time.

But what I experienced was enormous camaraderie, laughter, solidarity, hope and an amazing commingling of people who really had never commingled before. We were there because we were frustrated and felt rather helpless in our urgent desire to end this unjust war, and – in coming together and taking these collective actions – we were united in cleansing our need to stop whining and wondering and start acting and being heard. We were, after all, just practicing democracy. More importantly, we were practicing democracy peacefully.

So, as I put one layer after another on the office walls of some rather anonymous state office building today, it hit me that everyone who wasn’t there has no idea about what a rich and rewarding experience it was. It was social. It was cathartic. It was rejuvenating. And, most importantly, it was about believing in the very system that the war-promoters claim to be “exporting” to Iraq.

You didn’t read anything in the media, for example, about the diversity of the people in those rooms who took those actions. Sure, the media told you about the wide ranges in ages – 9 months to 87 years old (significant, for sure) – but they didn’t say a word about the varying backgrounds of those people. So I will.

In my random attempts to canvas the group, I encountered nuns, farmers, students, full-time parents, lawyers, the unemployed, horse loggers, professors, painters, health officials, landscapers, writers, Iraq veterans, Vietnam veterans, filmmakers and poets. It was, quite obviously, an amazingly diverse group. And there were no “leaders” – only willing and enthusiastic participants.

We shared food. We shared stories. We read the names of some of those killed in this war – both U.S. soldiers and Iraqi citizens. We expressed our opinions. We asked to be heard. And we clearly stated that we wanted answers from our elected officials.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that we laughed? We did. Not out of disrespect, but – for me – out of a deep sense of relief that we weren’t alone and a rather natural attempt to bring levity to an otherwise somber event and cause. It’s human nature. It breaks the ice. It soothes the soul and calms the mind in trying times. And it did.

And there were the police. It might surprise you to hear me say that the police were wonderful. But they were. Several, in fact, gave awkward looks over their heads to see if anyone else could hear them as they professed their support for our actions. “I hope this works,” one of them said, “because I’ve got two friends serving there now and they want to come home to their families.”

The police treated us with respect and we did the same to them. We all understood that our little dance with democracy had led us to what could have been an uncomfortable confrontation but there was absolutely nothing uncomfortable about any of it. We stuck to our stated principles – a pledged vote against more war funding or we weren’t leaving willingly – and they did their job of explaining our rights, the process and then attaching handcuffs and walking us out of the buildings. There’s a reason, you know, that it’s called an act of “civil” disobedience.

And so, as I painted the day away and thought about what I lived and what I read, I felt frustrated that so many people will read about our actions and think it was all about angry confrontation and disrespect. Because it wasn’t. Instead, it was about standing up, speaking out, being counted and – most importantly – upping the ante in what should be the primary issue on all our minds.

While we have the luxury of time in this battle – as long as your conscience can be somehow soothed – the people fighting this battle on both sides do not have that same luxury. Bullets are flying. Bombs are dropping. Limbs are being lost. Lives are being wasted. And every month that we allow it to continue, thousands more will have their lives changed – or ended – forever.

Our message has been clear: Time is up. The charade is over. And this war must end – NOW. And by partaking in the time honored traditions of civil disobedience, it is our hope that more people will be moved to do more to end this war now and not in two more blood-stained years.

We believe in democracy. We believe we have the power. And we believe that if enough people lead, our elected officials will follow.

It’s all about hope. And I thank my new friends and colleagues in this effort for letting me share in this collective hope. It’s been powerful and empowering.

This About Sums It Up

2007-03-28T16:01:00.000-07:00

"When a social movement adopts the compromises of legislators, it has forgotten its role, which is to push and challenge the politicians, not to fall in meekly behind them."

-- Howard Zinn, May 2007, The Progressive

(And a big hat tip to Eric over at Kirby Mountain for bringing this to my attention.)

Lunchtime Random Blogging

2007-03-28T09:36:00.000-07:00

The best part of painting an office building – especially a state-run office building – is that there are computers everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I swear there must be two computers for every person in this office. Or maybe half the office called in sick to avoid the confusion of painting day near their cubicles. Oh-no, do I smell another sick building in the works? Who knows?

Personally, I think the real sickness in these state office buildings is the mental sickness going around. These people are bored out of their fucking minds. You just can’t put people in these cubicles for 40-hours a week and expect everything to be a-okay.

The boredom is palpable here, my friends – so much so that you’d think the arrival of a few Joes with white painters clothes on amounted to seeing Old Faithful for the first time. Yep, they stare and stare. Worse, some stare with their mouths agape. Trust me, it’s not a pretty site. It’s almost as if they really don’t have anything better to do.

But thanks to the fine lady in charge of this joint, Snarky Boy got some mighty fast lunchtime Internet access. So, here’s what’s on my mind while trying not to get the bland tan paint on the tax-payer-funded keyboard:

While getting swept up in the heat of yesterday’s fun at Bernie’s office, I didn’t get a chance to mention the front-page news about Congressman Peter Welch’s upcoming trip to Iraq. Can you say: Payback. I knew you could. Funny, isn’t it, that just a few days after Peter played footsie with Pelosi by giving away his antiwar cred by voting to fund the war she rewards him with a trip to Iraq. You don’t even have to be a cynical bastard like me to see through this one.

As one reader wrote in and asked, how much carbon is Welch going to expend on this trip? Oh-no, Peter, get that checkbook ready. Or maybe he’s going to play the “carpool” card and claim that he’s also bringing the $124 billion that he voted to continue the war he supposedly opposes.

The only way this trip amounts to anything other than Welch getting headlines is if he brings the troops home with him while he’s there. But we know that’s not going to happen because Peter’s on record supporting at least another year and a half of this mess. Hmm, I know, how about if Peter stays there for that same amount of time? Yeah, that’s it, do the time, big guy. And we promise to “support” you….

The liberal ninnies are still fretting over the sit-ins at Welch and Sanders’ offices of late. My favorite reaction so far comes from Charlie O’s second best customer, Peter Buknatski, the poet, bullshitter and crusader for less noise in the world via his day job at Montpelier’s Noise Pollution Clearinghouse. Peter nearly perfectly represents the kind of “lefty” who sits and bitches but never takes action.

Peter’s predictable reaction to the antiwar activism was to declare that we should have been doing something else like sitting in at Governor Douglas’ office. And several other backbenchers in the game of democracy joined his call. Yeah, they chirped, it’s Douglas who is close to Bush and who is the head of the Vermont National Guard. “Fair enough,” I responded after Peter and his lethargic pals first mentioned it more than a week ago, “so do it.” Now they’re repeating it today after the fun at Sanders’ office yesterday. And, again, I’ll respond, “so do it.”

Hell, I’ll even go a step further by publicizing your idea for you. Oops, I guess I already did that, didn’t I? Well, then how about if I publicize your contact information so people can get in touch with you and join your call to take over Douglas’ office to stop the war.

So, if you want to join Peter Buknatski in his call to turn up the heat on Douglas – even though Douglas doesn’t have a vote on whether or not to fund the war – contact Peter directly at pbuknatski@yahoo.com. It seems like he needs a little encouragement. If not courage itself. Go, Peter, go!

Damn. I’ve got more but the office people are streaming back in and my agreement was to get off this computer before the real boss arrived. Back to painting for now, with promises of more words later. You know what? I like these state computers. A lot.

Snark on, my friends.

Letter to Senator Sanders – From a Nine-Year Old

2007-03-27T19:16:00.000-07:00

There were several children in attendance at today’s visit to Sanders’ office, including a nine-year old girl who sat quietly writing her own letter to the senator. When she was done, she had it copied by the office staff and then handed it out to those who wanted to see it. I’m re-printing the letter in its entirety below. It is refreshing – to say the least – to see the school-aged lessons in democracy come flowing out so honestly on paper. We’ve got a lot to learn, my friends.

Dear Senator Sanders,

Stop the war. What do you not understand? What about the kids in Iraq? You are sending money to kill people and you can stop this war.

If you want the war to stop like you say, then stop it now. You have the power.

I’m nine-years old and I do not stand by my Mom and Dad. I stand on my own and I have to go against this war. I am not afraid of anyone and I am only nine. You have the same choice as me and you support the war.

I’m not afraid of going with what I believe and you are supposed to listen to Vermonters like me instead of pretending and hiding. Go do your job now.

If you like the war, go fight it. It’s not fun. At least 1,000 people are counting on you.

You have kids. How would you like your kids to die because you send money to Bush? Stop doing it.

People were arrested because they had a belief. You have the power in this world but you can arrest me as much and as long as you want but I will never change my mind because what you’re doing is wrong. This war is not right.

Let there be hope.

This Is What Democracy Looks Like! More than 50 Activists Visit Sanders With a Simple Message: No More War Funding! Eight Arrested

2007-03-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay, I’m home, I’ve read my mail and, by what sure seems like popular demand: here’s some snark to hold you over for a little while this evening.

My previously scheduled cold-like symptoms got me yet another day off the painting clock to practice a little more democracy. Hey, what can I say, I’m blessed with a boss who “gets it,” and, with a wink and nod, told me within earshot of the rest of the crew to do what I needed to get better. Well, there’s nothing better for a faux-cold than a trip to Burlington and a visit to your elected officials office – all in the name of stopping this goddamn war.

This time, the fun gang of about 50 made our way to Senator Bernie Sanders’ office to demand that he vote against any and all legislation that would continue to fund this war beyond what is needed to bring the troops home now, provide necessary reparations to Iraq, and give every bit of support to the troops once they get home.

For some reason, there are all kinds of liberal ninnies out there who bristle when folks practice democracy. Interestingly, they want us to shut the hell up and “just wait until Bush leaves office.” Oh, okay, and how nice that must be to sit in your non-bombed out communities and make that ever-so-slow assessment of how to end the most brutal, illegal and unjust war in modern history. Even their fellow lib, Tom Friedman of the New York Times, has been scoffing at this silly notion that the “go slow” crowd has been throwing around about “how terrible things would be if we just left now.” Well, Friedman correctly asked recently, how do we know that things won’t get BETTER if we leave?

I mean, come on, everything the war supporters have said about this war has been wrong, wrong and wrong. Yeah, you remember the “flowers and candy” that the troops were supposed to receive at the beginning of this mess, don’t you? To say nothing of WMDs, 9/11 connections and the like.

For all we know, Friedman concluded, things could get much better if we left now. Yep.

But don’t tell that to Vermont’s elected officials with the power of the federal purse – Leahy, Sanders and Welch. Because they’re apparently so fucking scared of the “support the troops” nonsense that they’re willing to throw more money at this war with the mere hope that Bush – Bush! – will abide by their kinda-sorta pleas and end the war based on some super-nebulous timeline.

But we’re being billed as the crazies. Go figure. Plus, you gotta love it when the do-nothing crowd – oops, they still love their candle vigils – get all pissed off when people actually take the time and the risks to practice the beautiful art of democracy. I mean, these people are seemingly threatened by the fact that dozens of people took time off work, organized themselves, and marched to an elected officials office to voice their concerns and demand action. Excuse me, but what exactly is the problem here? Silly me, I thought this is what we were fighting to give the Iraqis – you know, that weird thing called democracy.

I knew Bernie’s staff would be in full angry spin mode today. Trust me, there’s nothing Bernie and his staff hate more than grassroots people acting in concert without bowing to the Bernie-God first. If he’s not getting his ass kissed, Bernie’s gonna kick yours. Period. Worse, he’s gonna throw one of his Bernie tantrums and either berate you – as long as the cameras aren’t around – or ignore you and claim he’s “really, really busy.”

Bernie chose the ignoring route today. Instead of speaking for himself, he put his flunkies front and center to meet and greet us. And how interesting it was that none other than Bernie-staffer Phil Fiermonte was the one assigned to usher us into the room, look as bored as he possibly could and attempt to spin us dizzy with all kinds of bullshit about “trying really hard” to stop this war.

As someone in the crowd pointed out, Fiermonte was, in his real activist days, one of the “radicals” who occupied Senator Staffords’ office in the early 1980’s to protest the funding for the Iran/Contra war. Back then, young Phil thought it was “outrageous” that a Vermont senator would continue to fund an unjust war. In fact, he thought it was so unjust that the once-idealistic Phil got arrested for occupying Staffords’ office because Stafford didn’t give him or 43 other co-defendants the assurance they wanted that he was going to end the nonsense in Central America.

Oh boy, how times change. Because today’s Phil Fiermonte is the man with the power and the right-hand-man of the senator spinning the bullshit. It didn’t faze old Phil, however. When asked about the irony, he just gave the old “this side is more lucrative” smile and refused to discuss his twenty-something-year switch from idealistic activist to spinmeister for the senator who won’t vote to end the funding for the war NOW. The times, they are a’changing….

Unlike Welch, Sanders wasn’t going anywhere near a conversation with the democracy-practicing activists, instead leaving his office minions to sit and try to uncomfortably entertain our queries and demands. In the end, the demands were not met, Bernie did not want to be sullied with conversing with his constituents - including two Iraq vets -- and eight people were arrested for not leaving when the workday ended at the Sanders’ compound.

For me, it was a very uplifting day of solidarity. The young – 9-month old, nine-year old, college students, middle-aged, and – ahem – old folks, too – gathered to chat, laugh, learn and be heard. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. It’s just too bad so many other people are willing to sit on their asses, complain from the cheap seats and lull themselves to sleep with the false notion that our elected officials are there to represent us without hearing from us. Whatever.

If our democracy is good enough to “import” to Iraq, what’s wrong with practicing it in Burlington?

The movement is alive. And I feel fine.

Love,

Snarky Boy

Monday Random Blogging

2007-03-26T10:11:00.000-07:00

Wow. Thanks, dear readers, for all the readership and feedback last week. It was, without a doubt, the number one week in the eight months of Snarky Boy blogging. I’m humbled. Sort of. And I’m thrilled. Kind of. But, unfortunately, I’m still broke. So off to work I go, this time to be part of my last crew job before getting to the great world of outdoor painting. Painting houses, that is. Yep, the wonderful world of working outdoors, sun burns, bee stings, thankful and not so thankful clients and the delicious opportunity to have a cold one and a early evening swim in some of the best ponds and reservoirs in the universe right here in Central Vermont. Gotta love it. The cold one and the swimming, that is. Because the work is starting to suck more than ever, especially with you freeloaders demanding more and more daily snarkiness. Something’s got to give. And I’d rather it be the painting, quite frankly. And you? So let’s get creative. If you’ve got ideas, thoughts, suggestions or promises of cash to get Snarky Boy off the ladder and in front of the computer more frequently, send them to me at VtSnarkyBoy@yahoo.com. Imagine, for example, if Snarky Boy had time to attend press conferences? Oh what fun…

Speaking of work, I was getting ready to report to duty at my state office building this morning when my “boss” called to say the grounds people hadn’t prepped the building in time for us to start. Welcome to the world of labor specialization. Painters, you see, aren’t allowed to do the work that the grounds people are entitled and/or required to do. You know, kind of like you wouldn’t want your internist to examine your toothache. Yeah right. But I guess it makes us all feel that much more important about our jobs involving desk moving and paint application.

So, speaking of money, I’m not gonna be buying anyone a beer when Friday rolls around this week. Because I’m planning to miss work tomorrow, too, due to previously scheduled “cold-like symptoms” I’ve felt coming on since I was informed of the march on Bernie Sanders’ office tomorrow at 2:00. So, if you’re planning on feeling too ill for work tomorrow and want to join Phase Two of “Let’s Get Some Action from Our Delegation on the War,” folks are meeting at 2:00 in front of City Hall before marching up to Bernie’s office on Church Street to find out what in the hell he’s got planned to end the war NOW rather than later. Should be interesting.

The word from my contacts at Bernie’s office is that – unlike the rather un-savvy Welch – he’ll be issuing a statement later this afternoon that will attempt to take the wind out of the activists’ sails. You know, by saying something like: “I support any and all efforts to end this war now, including efforts to curtail additional funding.” But we shall see. Stay tuned.

Speaking of Welch, it was good to hear Mark Johnson of WDEV take some creative shots at Welch this morning for his ridiculous “carbon neutral” nonsense. “I’m sorry,” concluded Johnson, “but it just feels a little silly.” Oh yeah.

Johnson also gave what is the best analogy I’ve heard so far from those of us who see the silliness in Welch’s Church of Carbon Neutrality: “It’s kind of like sitting at a track and eating a box of cookies but paying someone to run around the track for you so you could be calorie neutral.” Bingo.

Welch is either completely out of touch or he thinks his constituents are completely stupid. And, frankly, I think it’s a whole lot of both. If there is a congressperson trying harder than Welch to be dumped from office in 2008, I haven’t seen one. I mean, come on, being elected to one of Vermont’s top elected posts is usually a lifetime job. Unless, of course, you fumble like Welch has fumbled right out of the gate.

Notice, for example, that the guy who proclaimed last week that “no one is more opposed to the war that I am” failed to make it to the anti-war rally in Burlington over the weekend. Hmm, could it be that Welch knew the boos he’d be facing? Smart man. And cowardly, too.

Of course, it would also have been more than a little awkward for Welch to have to hear the cheers for Rep. David Zuckerman (P-Burlington), a man who should have challenged Welch in the last election and probably will in 2008, who declared that he couldn’t recall any politician saying in the last campaign season that they wanted “half the troops out of Iraq by 2008.” You’re right, David. The joke’s on us – at least until the next election.

Many other congress members took their weekend time to meet and greet their constituents on the war issue, especially since they knew the war funding issue was front and center on the minds of those of us who don’t care how Anna Nicole Smith died. Congresswoman Barbara Lee, for example, even went so far as to hold a town hall-style meeting in her Oakland district to celebrate her “no” vote on the funding bill that Welch supported. Lee was trying to help rally anti-war opposition and listen to the people she represents. CLICK HERE to hear the words from one of her constituents, the actor Sean Penn, had to say at the town meeting.

I’m not sure what Welch was doing over the weekend, but he certainly wasn’t rallying the anti-war crowd. Nope. Welch was hiding from the anti-war crowd, even while giving us the jive about being “more anti-war” than any of us. Yeah sure, Peter, whatever you say. Just keep your law license up to date….

Speaking of being wrong, it was weird being in Montpelier this morning and seeing the sandbags slowly being taken away. Was that all just a dream? Personally, I think we should just keep the sandbags in place just so Montpelier looks like a war zone and we’ll say it’s all to be in solidarity with the people of Baghdad. Our fear of imminent disaster shouldn’t end until theirs does, too. Leave ‘em up until the war ends. Just a thought.

Dems to Bush: Please Slow Down; Bush to Dems: Fuck Off.

2007-03-23T12:45:00.000-07:00

And so it goes, the great national nightmare of one-party rule masquerading as a two-party democracy continues. Ho-hum. It would make a great comedy novel if the body bags weren’t piling up, the injured weren’t being maltreated, the Iraqi environment wasn’t being decimated and the budget deficit wasn’t ballooning.

But this is no comedy. This is nothing but a tragedy. And, for some reason, Bush still seems to be holding all the cards. Oh wait, I just remembered: The Dems joined in empowering Bush by giving him the blank check to begin this madness over four years ago. Yeah, you remember those days, when Leahy was proudly attending the signing ceremony of the USA Patriot Act (with his camera, too!) and vast majorities of both parties were jumping at every opportunity to give Bush whatever he wanted. Ah, what a party!

But now the nation is waking up in the house where one hell of an unruly party took place the night before. Yeah, you know the deal, the place is trashed, it stinks, you kinda-sorta remember most of what happened no matter how much you try to forget, and then you roll over to the person you’re pretty sure you committed unwavering love for and yet you can’t quite remember his or her name now that the morning light is hitting your swollen neck. Ouch.

Deal with it America. We fucked up. And, worse, we’ve got one hell of a hangover.

So, let’s see, how about a call for help? Yep. That’s what we need. Because the first thing that we’ll hear on the other end of the phone is that we should just admit that we have a problem. Hell yes, we’re ready for that.

Hello, War Anonymous, we’ve got a problem!

Ah, that felt good. Okay, now we’ve got to admit that we’re powerless with this problem, we cannot control our silly urges to fight anyone anywhere no matter the consequences, and we need to make amends, admit our mistakes, seek help and forgiveness and – most of all – stop the war making right now. If it helps, you can even put a little chip in the nation’s pocket that says: You’re not alone, you did this in Vietnam, too.

Unfortunately, we’re not getting that kind of straight talk from anyone but about a dozen lawmakers in the U.S. Congress. Because they were the only twelve or so people who understand that the U.S. must stop this war and stop it now, as in: Not another drink – er, dime. Period.

The vast majority of the Dems, including Vermont’s own confused little puppy of congressman, Peter Welch, continues on the path of co-dependency where they seem to think that letting Bush go from unlimited drinking – damn, there I go again, make that: war making – to a scaled down kind of war making is an okay path. Good luck with that.

And so they passed a plan today to kinda-sorta demand that Bush begin to slow down a little bit and – perhaps – get his war making under control in a year and half or else….wait, there really wasn’t an “or else” to any of it, was there? Never mind. But, just to show how “serious” they were about getting Bush to curtail his war making addiction, they also included an extra eight ball – damn, I’m sorry, make that, $124 billion – to help him address his problem and simply “to begin” to end this national nightmare.

Like I said, this should be a comedy. But, again, it’s not.

Today, as the U.S. House voted 218-212 to provide Bush with more war money but pretend it was about the beginning to the end of the war addiction, no one in the Democratic leadership believed that their plan had a chance in hell to become law. This bill and the vote on it was, as they say, theater, because Bush – not to mention the Senate – won’t have anything to do with it.

Bush himself took the White House podium only about 45 minutes after Pelosi was seen gushing with pride over the bill’s passage to say the words his minions have been saying since this bill was first broached: “This bill has zero chance of passing.” Oh, how the Dems have perfected the art of doing nothing and feeling good about it, huh?

And then I remembered, this IS what the Dems do best: Try kinda-sorta hard and lose. In fact, this whole episode reminds me of the Kerry campaign. Yeah, you remember that, don’t you: Kerry tried, Kerry confused and Kerry lost. Yep, they’ve got that one down pat, don’t they?

Meanwhile, Bush, Cheney and the Republicans just go to the podium and say: Fuck off. At least it’s clear.

And so it goes. Over and over and over again.

But at some point the Dems have got to realize that, if their watered down bullshit can’t survive more than 45 minutes before Bush says “go to your room,” they’ve got to start coming up with some declarative statements and positions of their own. If Bush wants a standoff, give him one – but, this time, make your position a position of strength, you dopes.

At least a dozen Dems in the House tried to do that today by standing up and declaring that they wouldn’t vote for another dime for this war. That way, you see, the war wouldn’t become their war. They played the Bush/Cheney/Rove game of going all the way, doing what they truly believed, and voting from their hearts. And you know what, they ended up as the only true winners in all of this because of it. The rest – including Peter Welch – were caught playing the worst kind of politics: Compromising even when you knew you were going to lose. Oh yeah, that’ll show ‘em!

Now that it’s clear the Congress and the White House are not able to seek the help they need to stop this war-making addiction, it’s time for the people to take the lead. To be blunt, the peace movement needs to wake-up, stop getting caught up in the Dem leadership’s enabling routine, and revving up the grassroots with the kind of energy and focus that the grassroots is clearly waiting for. Wait, what do they call that? Oh yeah: democracy. You know, where THE PEOPLE lead.

I’ll see you in the streets, my friends.

Snark on.

Sign of the Times

2007-03-23T04:59:00.001-07:00

Sad But True

2007-03-22T13:28:00.000-07:00

News Flash: Welch Proves That, Indeed, There Wasn’t Much Difference Between Him and Rainville As He Votes to Give $120 Billion to Bush For More War

2007-03-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

Sorry, long headline. But it’s what I wanted to say. I just received notification that Congressman Welch will be speaking and voting in favor of the war-funding bill this afternoon. This is not a surprise. It was clear in his embarrassingly dizzy double talk with the activists that occupied his office yesterday that he was going to be voting this way. Just as it was clear that he didn’t have the political guts to just come out and say it, instead hiding behind the very thinly-veiled claim of not having made up his mind yet. Yeah right. And let us know when Santa will be coming back down the chimney…

Peter Welch spent 18 months bombarding Vermonters with how different he was going to be in D.C. when compared to his opponent, Martha Rainville. But Welch didn’t look all that different when he was lined up like an eager schoolboy trying to get Bush’s autograph at the State of Union address. And he certainly doesn’t look all that different now that he’s voting to give Bush, Cheney, and the entire GOP war machine another $120-plus billion to carry on with this war until at least the Fall of 2008.

We all know why Peter’s voting the way he is on this: He’s trying to climb the hierarchical ladder of the D.C. Dems. From day one, Peter’s been sucking up to Pelosi, even when that sucking up means almost instantly backpedaling on the campaign pledges that he made only a few short months ago. While he may not remember those pledges, promises and distinct differences he tried to make between himself and Rainville and the Republicans, we do. And we will continue to remember those differences until November 2008.

With his vote to provide more money to the Bush war, this becomes Peter Welch’s war, too. He – and the Dems – can no longer get away with the insincere slogans about this being Bush’s war and only Bush’s war. Because, from the beginning and right up to today’s vote, the Dems (now including Peter) have been giving it one congressional approval after another.

The most laughable thing we heard yesterday from Welch as he tried to spin us dizzy with his nonsense about not having made up his mind or the Orwellian jargon about how “funding the war is about ending the war” (yeah sure, Peter), was his claim that “no one in Congress opposes this war more than I do.”

Well, Peter, as you go to the floor today with your Pelosi-approved script with more of the same nonsense you uttered yesterday, consider these words from just one of your peers, Rep. John Lewis of Georgia:

Tonight, I must make it plain and clear, that as a human being, as a citizen of the world, as a citizen of America, as a member of Congress, and as an individual committed to a world at peace with itself, I will not and cannot vote for another dollar or another dime to support this war.

Now that, Peter, is anti-war rhetoric AND anti-war action. And Lewis will be joined by many more Democrats who aren’t just talking the talk of peace, but walking the walk of peace, too. Unlike Vermont’s Peter Welch, these folks will be sending the message that so many citizens of Vermont, the U.S. and the world want from this congress: They will be voting against anymore funding for the war.

But Peter will keep talking. And explaining. And pretending. And hoping that Bush will deliver on the “benchmarks” and “deadlines” included with the $120 billion check from congress. Good luck with that.

And so, on that Tuesday night in November 2008, when the last of the Welch campaign staff is drying their tears and wondering how in the hell their boss became only the second congressman in Vermont in decades to serve only one term, I’m betting that one of the first things they’ll think about was Peter’s vote for more war funding on March 22, 2007.

Congrats, Peter. You’re now the proud owner of a disastrous, illegal and unpopular war. Wear it well.

Just a Thought...

2007-03-22T06:08:00.000-07:00

Peter Welch: Vermont's One-Term Congressman Spins Again

2007-03-21T20:16:00.000-07:00

Well, that was weird. My day, that is. You see, I took a much-coveted day off from slapping paint on state-owned walls to go and have a little fun with our newly elected yap-dog – er, make that congressman. As in: Peter Welch. And let me say this to the people of Vermont: This guy deserves to be a one-term congressman. He wouldn’t know a decision if hit him in his non-hairy head. Good fucking grief.

About 30 folks marched from the Peace & Justice Center to Welch’s office on Main Street in Burlington today in an attempt to get an answer out of him about whether or not he was going to support the bill currently before Congress to give Bush another $100-plus billion to continue the obscene war on Iraq. You’d think that would be an easy question, too. Funding or no funding, Peter? Especially since Welch spent hundreds of thousands of advertising dollars telling Vermonters for months while he was running for office that his “number one priority was stopping the war.” Well, now he’s got the office and – guess what? – he’s apparently too busy playing footsy with Pelosi to have an opinion with a backbone.

Worse, Peter-the-Dick knew we were coming and he still didn’t have an answer for us. In a moment of Snarky Boy naiveté, I actually thought we’d be arriving to his office with a freshly printed up statement from him explaining that he would not be voting for the funding bill and standing in solidarity with the vast majority of Vermonters who want this war nightmare to end. Cool, I was thinking, we’d march to his office, get the statement out of him, and have plenty of time to check out some watering holes in Burlington on a fine day off. But no such luck there, my friends.

Instead, we arrived to his office and got little but more of the same confused nonsense you get when you call his office: The Congressman hasn’t made up his mind yet; he’s still looking at it; he’s busy and he’ll let you know soon; he’s considering his options, etc.

Excuse me? We’re talking about the war here. The issue that he made such a big deal over while wooing Vermont voters just a few short months ago. But now, apparently, Peter-the-player has decided that cutting deals with the Democratic hierarchy is more important than following his own rhetoric and ending this criminal war.

It’s sad but true, dear readers, but Peter’s got the Democratic disease: He can’t lead and, worse, he can’t make a decision. And we should know, because we waited for hours and hours in his stuffy little office waiting for him to call in and give us the rather simple word on whether or not he would be supporting the bill to provide more funding for the war. But when he finally made the speakerphone call to those of us crammed in his office, he did little but talk in circles, avoid the issue, and try to spin us with more bullshit rhetoric than Karl Rove could muster in a half hour. Trust me, it was pathetic.

But it was clear that Welch will be voting in favor of the bill that will provide more funding to the war. And while he will try to convince us that it’s “the best” he could do, the truth of the matter is that he’s failing to lead, ignoring the people, and becoming yet another accomplice in this long and miserable national nightmare called the Iraq War. Because, no matter what he says about timelines, benchmarks and the disgusting pork spending that has been added to this bill, it will still do one primary thing: Give more than $100 billion to Bush to continue the war until at least September 2008. And that doesn’t only suck, it is wrong and it is cowardly.

I’m glad I went to witness the charade today. And while I was more than a little heart broken by the fact that only 30 people bothered to show up to tell the ONE person in the state of Vermont with the power to vote on more funding for this war that we weren’t going to take it anymore, I say bravo to the brave souls who took the risks, made the plunge, and demonstrated their beliefs in the process known – yet rarely practiced – as democracy.

And the funny thing is, I got home to a slew of emails from so many people who didn’t bother to show up today but had all kinds of bitching and whining to do about the war. And to them – and to you -- I must ask, what the fuck did you do to demand an end to this war today? We’re way beyond the rhetoric phase, my friends, it’s action time. And if you’re not going to act, get out of the way. Or, at least, spare me your emails and comments from the cheap seats…

Which side are you on? Anybody but Welch in 2008, for me.

Say It Loud

2007-03-21T05:11:00.002-07:00

"I have said that I hate violence; I favor drama. We must wake the sleepers somehow, and where blindness can be healed by shock we must provide the shock. Sometimes it hurts a little, but it helps the patient afterwards, for lo! It makes him see."
-- Mother Jones

Action Time, Part Two

2007-03-21T05:11:00.001-07:00

Shumlin & Symington: Dem Narcissism Runs Amok

2007-03-20T14:37:00.000-07:00

Shhh…you hear that? Yeah, that hissing sound. And the screeching, too. Ouch. That’s the sound of Democrats trying to co-manage the huge majorities they have in the Vermont State House. Yep, it’s he-cat Shumlin and she-cat Symington going claw-to-claw over who’s gonna look like they’re big enough and tough enough to be the Dem voice of opposition to Governor Douglas and his ever-so-calm approach to governing. And – oh boy – is Douglas ever loving their catfight.

Shumlin, of course, is the new leader of the Vermont Senate, a lifetime pol who just returned to politics after four years of hunting in a t-shirt and mending fences with his wife (not necessarily in that order). And Symington is the leader of the Vermont House, a lady who seems either really bored with her job or just in way over her head because whenever you talk with her or see her in the media she just looks like she’d rather be somewhere else. Both are Democrats. And both can’t stand one another, especially when both are being mentioned as possible opponents to Douglas in 2008.

The feud between the two has been on a slow simmer since Shumlin marched back into office last November. But it’s come to a boil of late as the two have been having their minions (and relatives) take not-so-subtle shots at one another in public and private. And today, with the publication of the Vermont Daily Briefing’s obnoxiously long interview with Shumlin, the war of words reached a new high as even the Snarky Boy got a ring-side seat as tips rolled in and “players” asked for my attention.

Okay, okay, I’ll play.

First, some back-story. Shumlin is addicted to the game of politics. He thought he was on a well-greased path to anything he wanted politically until he met the not-so-dynamic duo of Brian Dubie and Anthony Pollina in his race for Lite Guv in 2002. Because he had crapped on the left wing of the Dems enough as the leader of the Senate, Shumlin lost enough votes to Pollina to allow the dunce named Dubie to begin a most peculiar political career (Hey mom, look what I found!). Can you imagine losing to those two?

But Shumlin licked his wounds, put his marriage back together, made hundreds of thousands of dollars in his rather wacky business of taking wealthy kids to far away places for big bucks, and started over with a run for his old seat in the Senate. And, of course, he not only won his regular old seat back but he also elbowed the milquetoast Senator Campbell out in his successful pursuit for the Senate leadership position. Trust me, the guy knows hardball politics.

Symington, on the other hand, doesn’t live and breath politics like Shumlin. A development and management consultant for years – a role that thrives in the background – Symington seems to almost resent the attention that comes with being the Speaker of the House. But her husband, Chuck Lacy of Ben & Jerry’s fame and fortune, doesn’t seem to mind pushing her into very awkward political battles with her Senate compatriot, Shumlin.

Proof? That’s easy, consider Lacy’s letter to the Burlington Free Press last month in which he aggressively chided Shumlin for basically being a sissy for punting on the issue of gay marriage. Lacy referenced Shumlin’s “fears” and lack of “leadership” for the decision by the Dems in both houses to take a pass on the push by gay rights advocates to have Vermont play catch-up with states like Massachusetts and allow full marriage, not just the rather third-rate status of “civil unions.” And he concludes with this shot across Shumlin’s political bow: “History will not look kindly on Shumlin's political calculations here. Not in two years. Not ever.” Ouch. I guess that’s what they call “friendly fire.”

And where was Symington? Hmm, apparently hiding on the sidelines, this time behind her own husband. Weird.

But in the VDB interview, Shumlin comes out swinging on the issue, apparently still pissed off by the Lacy attack from last month. Here, for example, is Shumlin’s take on the Dems weak-kneed (oh shit, there goes that theme again) approach to full civil rights for gays:

On the marriage issue, my feeling was, in speaking to the Speaker [Symington], and she agreed with me, that we — now this is a direct quote from the Speaker, she said to me, “Listen, from our perspective, we just did civil unions. Because we lost the House over civil unions, and we just got it back four years ago. And we’re not ready to take it on again.” I listened to that advice and I said, you know, that makes sense.

Take that, Chuck! And, if you’ll come out from the shadows, Gaye, too!

The Dems are being Dems – calculating their way to a political never-never land known in the lay community as: Losers. And Douglas and the Republicans are loving every minute of it. For reasons that I’ll never understand, the Dems cannot lead with their hearts or their convictions – even when they know a vast majority of the Vermont public shares those convictions. The Republicans, in contrast, seem to have no qualms whatsoever with standing firm with ridiculous and unpopular political opinions. It was, for example, Douglas himself who just slept in the Lincoln Bedroom at the White House as Bush’s guest. The Dems tried like hell to make an issue out of it and Douglas basically killed the chatter by saying: Deal with it, I am who I am.

Contrast that with the Dems on practically every issue, including the war, impeachment, gay rights, school funding, and the environment (unless it means buying stupid carbon offsets). They circle and circle and circle any issue – any issue! - -until it’s clear that they’re so fucking dizzy they don’t even know which end is up. Worse, then they start fighting amongst themselves over how to parse an issue that should have been as clear as the spring’s blue sky from the beginning.

And the lesson in all of this? Douglas is kicking the Dems’ ass. In a time when the Dems bragged about their “veto-proof majorities” in both houses of the legislature, they’re lined up in a circular firing squad shooting the hell out of one another and sending this message to the voters: We’ve got no plan but the plan of self-destruction.

And the reason is, sadly, very clear: Courage. It takes courage to lead. And it takes courage to get your finger out of the wind to see which way the political winds are blowing and, instead, be bold from your heart and trust your ability to make your case to the voters.

Shumlin and Symington are engaged in a scorpion-like dance with death. One thinks they will eat the other, forgetting that they need each other to truly survive. But, most sadly, it’s not only themselves that they’re killing, because they’re also killing the dreams of Vermonters who would like to see REAL political action on the issues that are near and dear to our hearts.

Shame on their narcissism. Damn it.

No Wanking in the office

2007-03-20T10:19:00.001-07:00

Just so you can see what it's like painting in an office setting...

Pleasure Not Pain

2007-03-20T09:25:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s out of the frying pan into the fire for this painter boy. Sadly, my gig at the senior center is coming to a rather abrupt ending. No, I didn’t get the boot. Instead, I got a “promotion” to yet another institution job. Yep, your not-so-friendly Snarky Boy is going back on the public dole as a crewmember at a state office-painting gig. And, trust me, painting around the little old men and women is a whole hell of a lot more interesting than painting around the wandering souls that call state-sponsored cubicles their home.

I know I’m gonna catch hell from the ever-growing number of state and federal employees clicking onto this site every (work) day but, I’m sorry, these folks have perfected the art of dilly-dallying. I’ll bet that if you followed one of these folks around all day you’d find they were only productive for about a half hour in the morning and a half hour in the afternoon. The rest of the time, I swear, they’re yakking at the water cooler, wise-cracking over their cubicles, flirting between cubicles, taking personal phone calls, playing video games and/or just wandering around rather aimlessly.

For me, I get to play the fly on the wall routine and watch this madness all around me. After about the third or fourth day of it, it really starts to feel like I’m back in my more youthful contracting days and painting the state prisons or mental institutions. Because it’s all about killing time, baby.

But the really good news is that I get a couple of days off between gigs. Lucky you. And luckier me.

Snark on.

Monday Random Blogging: On Bong Hits, McKibben, Anti-War Weenies, and Bullshit Health Care

2007-03-19T14:08:00.000-07:00

Mmm, there’s nothing like a Monday, huh? Fuck that.

But, enough whining, I’ve got words to share. Lots of words. I delved into too many emails, parties, publications and websites over the weekend. The result? A news and tip sheet that is overflowing with goodies for you, dear readers. So let’s get started.

Bong Hits 4 Jesus? First, you gotta get a taste of this delicious headline from today's online edition of The New York Times: "Supreme Court Hears 'Bong Hits 4 Jesus' Case." That's just like a total and complete gift for bloggers, you know. And it only gets better. Ken Starr, the right-wing lunatic of Whitewater, Lewinwsky and Clinton impeachment fame, is the lead attorney representing the young lad who got in a heap of trouble for unfurling the banner with the "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" slogan. I guess these guys think that anything you do for Jesus is good enough for them. In that case, how about this: Stop the Fucking War for Jesus!

McKibben Pulls a Gore: I got a great email from a Burlington reader on Friday night. He was all thrilled about a Bill McKibben talk he had just attended at the Fletcher Free Library. Or at least he was thrilled about the talk until the bizarre ending. You see, Saint Bill got the crowd ravenous for “all things local” in his talk about the need to buy local, live local, love local and just plain be local in this age of globalism and – ahem – global warming. Sounds great, right? Yes, until McKibben pulled an Al Gore by morphing from saint to hypocrite faster than he could say “buy my book.” You see, at the end of his talk, when things made a turn from the global and local economy to the McKibben family economy, Saint Bill had his booksellers trot out his latest book for all those in attendance to purchase. And guess who the booksellers were? The Crow Bookshop? Nope. Borders. Yeah, Borders, the big, bad multinational that is responsible for killing hundreds of small bookshops across this nation. Typical liberal: Do as he says, not as he does.

Speaking of liberals, they continue to get their asses handed to them on the war issue. Did anyone hear about the anti-war rally in DC last weekend? I didn’t think so. Because the Dems and their Kool-Aid drinking followers have effectively killed the anti-war movement. If you don’t believe, just wander over to the sleepy Green Mountain Daily site and try to find anything that resembles activism in this age of the so-called Dem rebirth. They’re too busy wondering what to wear to Obama’s next house party than trying to put the heat on the party that is so fervently shitting upon their heads.

The not-so-secret theory goes like this: The Dem establishment – you know, folks like Leahy, Sanders and Welch – are putting the word out to their starry-eyed followers to “cool it” on the war. “Trust us,” the manta from the elected elite goes, “because we don’t want to blow our majority in the next election.” And their good soldiers are bowing with all the subservience one would expect from a lap dog tuggling up for a snooze at their master’s feet.

I’ve said it here numerous times, these folks just don’t know how to lead. Period. And, sadly, they’re letting an historical moment slip into the abyss as a result of their own slumber. Or, make that: as a result of their own political wet dreams. Leahy likes the gavel. Sanders likes the money. And Welch likes the notion that he’ll never have to run those dopey ambulance-chasing lawyer commercials again. Good luck with that.

If you still don’t believe me, consider the Vermont anti-war movement. Seen ‘em lately? Nope. They’re in the mode now where they get a huge fucking kick out of having one-on-one meetings with the elected elite, meetings whereby all Leahy, Sanders and Welch have to do is sit with them for ten minutes, try to remember their names and then spin them out of the rooms as fast as they can say: “Wow, great work. Keep it up.”

The self-appointed leader of Vermont’s anti-war movement, Joe Gainza, has been totally silent since the Dems got control of everything, all in an effort to “play the game” described above. One of his disciples even told Snarky Boy that Gainza is actually telling people that they’re “laying low now, just trying to informally get people to call and write our legislators without calling them out in public.” Oh hell no, we wouldn’t want that, would we? That would almost be like believing in our cause and utilizing our democratic principles to pursue that cause!

The Gainza crowd is also nervous as all hell about this week’s raid on Welch’s office over the war and impeachment issues. Apparently, some rogue activists not drinking the Dem Kool-Aid are planning to make a not-so-subtle visit to Welch’s Burlington office to demand that he get with the program and support the Barbara Lee and Lynn Woolsey legislation that would end the war now rather than later, later and then later.

According to my contacts, Gainza and the peace crowd that can’t shoot straight have all been running from these efforts to put Welch on the spot like cockroaches at the Motel 6. Gainza, for example, announced that he couldn’t make the visit to Welch’s office because there wasn’t time to get clearance from the national office of his American Friends Service Committee. Nice try, Joe, but you CAN act as an outraged citizen, you know. I guess you haven’t been moved enough by your own repeated placement of the boots of dead soldiers on the State House lawn to do any real activism yet, huh?

Nationally, the sleep walking side of the anti-war movement is being led by the folks at MoveOn.org. Like their Vermont brethren, they’re trying like hell to stymie the rage of last November and, instead, play the Dem game of “let’s ride this for another election cycle.” John Stauber and Sheldon Rampton have a great article over at CounterPunch describing how MoveOn is toning down their rage and, instead, trying to manipulate the debate toward one and only one plan: The Pelosi Plan, a plan that is about as concrete as the plan of any lotto ticket buyer’s plan to win. Again, good luck with that.

Speaking of the war and funding, the Dems are acting all coy over their attempts to put all kinds of pork spending in the Pelosi bill that would continue funding the war and put very nebulous timelines on the war plan. Hee-hee. The Pork Bill – er, make that the war funding bill -- includes an effort to extend more help to dairy farmers, something Vermont’s not-so-mighty threesome are gleeful over. So it’s not hard to predict that Leahy, Sanders and Welch have a ready-made excuse for their vote for more money for the war: They’re doing it for the farmers. [Editor’s note: Shed tear here.] Give me a break. Quick, someone get these boys a few backbones.

And because we’re a so-called “three party state,” let’s do another check-in with the Progressive Party. In times like this, they must be frothing at the bit over how to galvanize pubic support to prove that the Dems and Repubs are just – well – full of shit. Right? Wrong. According to the dreadful Prog Blog, a place that reminds of the confessional I once was forced to go to as a youthful Catholic (you’re told to go there, it feels really dead and weird when you get there, and you’re fucking delighted when you get out), here were the two top-stories from Prog Rep. Chris Pearson: Donald Trump on the war and Stephen Colbert roasting President Bush.

Yes, you read that correctly. Why anyone who considers themselves a Prog would give two shits about anything Trump thinks about the war is just beyond me. Of course, Pearson is thinking it’s all too cute that Trump is on their side. But I’d rather see them hoist up some real ideological heroes rather than the comb-over king, no? Where, for example, was Pearson when Sheehan was in town testifying in the building that employs him? I guess he would have made it if Trump had come instead.

But the REALLY weird part of Pearson’s blogging was his offering of Colbert roasting President Bush. Can he be anymore behind the times? I mean, Colbert did that LAST YEAR, you dope. And, as I recall, it got quite a bit of attention, too. Sarcasm intended. You gotta leave it too these Progs, they’re soooo cutting edge. What’s next, Pearson’s gonna tell us that the lady from the Dixie Chicks said something bad about Bush?

Finally, I’ve got to tell you about a swanky little party I found myself at last Friday night. I only got invited because I was out and about with a friend who truly was invited. It’s a neighbor thing, I guess. But while your deathly bored Snarky Boy sat sipping a swanky cocktail, up walks a gentleman who began chatting me up because, quite clearly, he was caught in that never-never-land of power cocktail parties: No one to talk to while drinking. So I served a purpose and I lent him my ear. Turns out the gentleman is one of the few folks in charge of reviewing Vermont’s so-called answer to the health care crisis: The Catamount Health Care Plan. And his assessment? “It’s bullshit.” Oh yeah, I thought, let me get you another drink and tell me all about it…

Basically, these poor bureaucrats are trying like hell to make sense out of the nonsense compromise that came out of the last legislative session. The Dems were too weak-kneed (there goes that theme again) to push for single-payer health care and Douglas didn’t want to look like a total obstructionist so, in the end, they compromised on a mess of a health care “solution” called Catamount. What a miserable tribute to a marvelous animal.

My cocktail party source, however, confided in me that it appears none of the targeted audience for the Catamount plan – the uninsured – are going to be willing to bite at this state plan. The reason? Price, of course. Blue Cross Blue Shield, for example, has put in a bid to take part in the Catamount plan and charge $418 a month to the previously uninsured. Now, if you’re skipping coverage right now in the private sector -- most likely because of price -- why would you jump at the chance to spend $418 a month for the state plan? The answer: You won’t. Of course, there are income sensitivity rates for this plan, too, lowering it for those who make something akin to poverty-level wages. But, for these folks, when it comes down to food on the table or the medical premium, the choice is pretty clear, especially when everyone knows the hospitals won’t turn down patients in an emergency.

“It’s just a mess,” my source tells me. “We’re just stuck in the middle between the legislature and the governor and being forced to make sense out of the senseless. Worse, we’re spending enormous amounts of staff time and money to do the senseless.”

You know, sometimes these cocktail parties pay off.

Stay tuned. And, better yet, stay snarky.

On Politics & Pool

2007-03-16T10:30:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well, who needs high-priced lobbyists like the gents over at Kimball Sherman & Ellis when all you need is some change for the pool table and a thirst for a mid-week beer? Holy shit, the pols were out in Montpelier last night. And, interestingly enough, the Dems were at McGillicuddy’s and the Repubs were at Charlie O’s.

I guess they might see it as reaching out to a different constituency. I mean, do the Dems know who owns McGillicuddy’s? Why, Mr. Dave Nelson, of course – a red-blooded Republican like few others in town. In fact, he’s so goddamn Republican and connected that he’s one of the only people in town who could both run a bar AND coach high school basketball. Hey, it sure beats teaching social studies, huh?

But if I had to guess why the pols were where they were last night, I’d hazard to say that the Dems were just confused (nothing new there) and the Repubs are just doing their best imitation of their boss-man, Gov. Douglas. No, no, no, I’m not suggesting that Jimmy D. does any bar hopping. In fact, it’s hard to imagine Douglas even ordering a large Coke – not when a small Coke is cheaper and probably all you really need. Wait, on second thought, Douglas would order the water and then borrow someone’s cell phone to call home and brag to the wife how he just saved $1.25! Oh Jimmy, you’re sooooo crazy!

Nope, the Republicans hanging out at Charlie O’s are imitating Douglas’ “get out and see the people” thing he’s got going on now with his rather dopily titled “accountability tours.” Couldn’t someone have helped him with this title? I mean, the guys already got a serious accounting-thing going on, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to hip him up a bit, you know. But, then again, it’s all for show anyway. And the hundred or so folks who showed up to hear him at each of his various stops last week would have come no matter what they were called.

The funny thing is that the Dems went ape-shit over Douglas’ tour of the state, as if it was some kind of radical idea to visit places other than Montpelier and Burlington to talk and listen to Vermonters. The Dems, for example, put out breathless press releases claiming that Douglas was just “playing politics” and setting the stage for future campaigns. And to that most of the media and others privy to such rhetorical ninniness said: No shit, Sherlocks.

Guess what, Dems? This IS politics. And it would clearly appear that you’re getting your asses kicked, even though every poll – not to mention the majorities you hold everywhere – would seem to suggest that you should be winning this game. Hmm, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get out and “play politics” by meeting with people, crafting a message, and – are you ready for this - LEAD.

I’m reminded of the Cindy Sheehan hearings a couple of weeks ago. As you’ll recall, the Republicans did some fine organizing there, too, clearly raining on what should have been a mere rally for the anti-war left. But, while the Republicans sent all their top brass to the event, the Dems could hardly be found anywhere. And the sleepy Progs were absolutely nowhere in sight, probably all busy trying to raise money for Pollina’s ridiculous milk company that is currently saving all of two farmers. You go, guy.

Oh well, what political party would need to take advantage of the 70% of the Vermont population that agrees with Sheehan and wants the troops home now? Dopes.

The Dems and the Progs seem to have nothing but contempt for grassroots politics and meeting and greeting the people they’re pretending to lead. Why else would they get in such a huff over Douglas holding public meetings with the people? And why else would they run like cockroaches from the left’s rather impressive grassroots showing on Town Meeting day that managed to get nearly 40 towns to stand up and do what the Dems & Progs are too afraid to do: Demand an end to the war and the impeachment of Bush?

And judging by the gallivanting by the Republicans last night – several elected officials and a couple high-level appointees to boot – at Charlie O’s, these fellas enjoy hanging with the people and being real. As opposed to the Dems at McGillicuddy’s who were still in their ties and jackets and seemingly just wanting to pretend to be near actual people (as long as they didn’t get too close or try to share their popcorn). Can you say: Stiff? I knew you could.

But before I let the Republicans off too easy, I gotta ask: What’s with all the shit Senator Illuzzi’s taking for holding the Sheehan hearings? I keep hearing from folks that Vince is getting reamed from Republican insiders and some grassroots folks for giving the left the opportunity to come in and talk about the war and Bush before his committee. This makes no sense to me. First, Illuzzi’s doing what the Republicans seem to be doing best this legislative session: listening to people. And, secondly, the Republicans should be thrilled with the way the hearings turned out, especially since their arch-nemesis, Cindy herself, gave a dreadful speech and awkwardly left in total silence.

If anything, these Republicans who are bitching should be patting Illuzzi on the back for holding the hearing and giving them an opportunity to at least look like they don’t belong to a 30% minority on this issue. And the left should be giving Illuzzi shit for not stopping the angry mom, Marion Gray, from her completely out-of-bounds comments directed at Sheehan (“you’re an embarrassment to your son’s memory”). But I guess that would presuppose that the left is actually awake enough to complain. Good luck with that.

So, if all you citizen types want to bypass the Kevin Ellis’ of the world and get all the time you want or need with the pols, hit the Montpelier bars on a mid-week night – especially Thursday – and get all the ears you’ll need for free. But, be warned, some of them are damn good at pool. I should know, I got my ass kicked.

And you thought I went out just for the beer? No way, this is about Democracy. Yeah right.

Snark on.

Did You Hear the One...

2007-03-15T16:31:00.000-07:00

...about the Democrats controlling BOTH Houses of Congress but still failing to even stop a SURGE in the war? Oh, it goes like this: SUCKER!

It's Been a Bad Day...

2007-03-15T14:12:00.001-07:00

...please don't take a picture.

Where Things Stand

2007-03-15T12:39:00.001-07:00

This Just In: The Economy is in Shambles. Let's Sing!

2007-03-14T06:42:00.000-07:00

Hey gang. I’m going to shoot to give you a double dose of snarkiness today. Think of it as your coffee in the morning and your stiff drink in the evening. Or, better yet, think of it as if you have nothing better to do. Or, best yet, think of it as a way to totally stick it to your boss because – as we all know – most of you are using company (or state) time to read this ridiculous site. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled with your choice of work-place diversions, but I just want us all to be clear that the time spent on creating these words and then reading them is, indeed, a very, very large waste of time. Unless, of course, enough of you keep sneaking me free drinks and twenty-dollar bills with thank you notes scribbled upon them. Then, and only then, will this site be able to contribute to the economy and, thus, be considered valuable.

I know you don’t come here for your financial news but, let me tell you, things don’t look good on the nation’s financial front. And why should you listen to a schmuck who puts paint on walls? Ah, because this painter boy has been working in a senior center and, in case you didn’t know, there’s only one topic of conversation that trumps bodily functions in such a place: finances and the economy. And, let me tell you, these folks are nervous.

The nervousness was at a peek on Monday, as several of the little old ladies had received visits from their children and apparently gotten either pleas for cash or warnings that the cash was running low. I guess they don’t want to share their anxieties with their “little ones,” because they opened up like a sieve when Snarky Boy arrived. Ouch.

These goddamn cable financial shows don’t help one bit, either. Some of the residents sit and watch the stock ticker like it’s the Super Bowl – all…day…long. And their moods (and blood pressure) go up and down based on the direction and color of the stock arrow. Trust me. And if they’re not watching the stock ticker in real time, they’re watching the 24-hour news, a service that seems to be singularly dedicated to making people really, really nervous.

Oh yes, it does feel like the financial party is about to end. And we all know it was never really a party anyway. It was a long and well-orchestrated scam by which the government and individuals borrowed to party like it was 1999. And we borrowed. And we borrowed, until someone stood up (ahem, that would be Greenspan) and said the obvious: Me thinks you’ve borrowed too much. Ka-fucking-boom. And the bottom split like a long-abused diaper. [I don’t get that last line, either.]

And isn’t it ironic that the whole financial house of cards is going to come crashing down just as Bush makes his merry exit to his Texas ranch? Personally, I’m still waiting for more Republicans to begin calling for Bush’s impeachment just because he’s been anything but a Republican when it comes to spending and controlling the deficit. Sure, he might be off coke, but he was snorting military contracts and tax giveaways like there was no tomorrow. And now we’ll all get to pay for it.

But while Bush ponders a comfortable retirement on his gazillion fucking acres in Texas, the little old men and women in the senior center I’m painting are doing little but working themselves into a frantic lather over how long they’ll be able to live there. I’m serious. These people literally know how many years and months they’ve got to live by their present-day standards. So when they watch the stock ticker take a 2% plunge, they’re thinking: Well, I’ll just have to die 2% sooner. And that, Mr. President, sucks. But, please, enjoy your brush removal. You putz.

Given the morning headlines about the crashing mortgage market and a continued free-fall of the Asian markets last night, I think I’m going to have to stop my painting today, turn off the television set at the senior center, and convince them all that one big sing-along would be about the best thing we could do today. That’ll be my deal to them: I won’t work, they won’t worry and we’ll all just sing the damn day away with nothing but nonsense songs about things that don’t matter. But, damn it, we’ll all laugh like hell.

I’ll let you know how it turns out….

Oh yeah, and sorry I wasted your time. Or was it your bosses time? Cool.

You've Been Warned

2007-03-14T06:13:00.000-07:00

Support Our Troops?

2007-03-13T11:28:00.001-07:00

As the liberals would say: Shouldn't they be using drying racks?

NEWS FLASH: The Troops Are Drinking! Repeat: The Troops Are Drinking!

2007-03-13T09:47:00.000-07:00

Oh boy, here’s some news straight from the New York Times: The troops in Iraq are drinking alcohol! No shit, Sherlock. And, guess what, they deep drinking when they get back, too. Funny how when you put a bunch of mostly young men in an unwinnable battle situation they turn to any kind of stress reduction they can find, huh? I mean, I need a drink after a day of painting – and no one’s shooting at my sorry ass all afternoon.

Here’s how the Times summarizes this most obvious news:

The use of alcohol and drugs in war zones appears to reflect a broader trend toward heavier and more frequent drinking among all military personnel, but especially in the Army and Marine Corps, the two services doing most of the fighting, Pentagon officials and military health experts said.

Again, where’s the news here? Oh yes, the news should be that this is news and, worse, that the U.S. military complex isn’t dealing with the situation like they should.

I wonder if Vermonters could, for example, get our ambulance-chasing congressman, Peter Welch, to stick his nose in the mess of the VA situation RIGHT HERE in Vermont. I’m just a painter boy with a few causes and I’ve been told about numerous post-traumatic stress cases – including those that involve alcohol and drugs – that have been ignored and/or bungled. My guess is that Peter the Dick hasn’t seen enough camera crews in front of the Vermont VA to merit it much attention yet. Perhaps we could trick him by putting up some phony cameras and then watch him come running….

But, in the meantime, let’s get back to Times article. Here’s what a real pro had to say about the situation:

“I think the real story here is in the suicide and stress, and the drinking is just a symptom of it,” said Charles P. O’Brien, a psychiatrist at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine who served as a Navy doctor during the Vietnam War. There is a high incidence of post-traumatic stress disorder among Iraq veterans, he said, adding that “there’s been a lot of suicide in the active-duty servicemen.”

You think so, Doc? Well, you too get a “No shit, Sherlock” medal. Wear it with pride.

And the not-so-funny thing is that the pro-war lunatics keep getting away with spinning a stop to this maddening war as “not supporting the troops.” At what point can they be considered accomplices to these war crimes? In fact, they’re reminding me of the sick bastards who cheer on old boxers like Mike Tyson. They don’t give a damn about his well being, they just want to get their rocks off by watching him pummel and get pummeled. But wait, there are a couple big differences between the soldiers and Mike Tyson: The soldiers are dying and Mike Tyson got rich. Never mind.

But wait, Pelosi and the Dems have a plan. Oh shit, I can’t find it. Where did it go? Oh yeah, I filed it under “c” for Chickenshit. Or cowardly. Or conniving. Or contemptible. Or…you get the picture.

The Pelosi non-plan is a mass of confused rhetoric that can be most honestly distilled down to this: Keep this war in the warming oven until the 2008 elections. Sinister bastards (oops, and bitches). Hey, their insider thinking goes, it worked for us in the 2006 elections, let’s give it another ride in 2008! Besides, they’d continue – if they were honest – we’re scared shitless to do the only obvious thing (de-fund) and too witless to think of anything else. So, what the fuck, stretch the thing out and take back the White House!

Personally, I love the news about the folks who’ve been camping out in front of Pelosi’s multi-million-dollar abode in the Pacific Heights region of San Francisco. They’re part of the national effort called “Project Occupation,” and they’re targeting the weak-kneed Dems like Pelosi who are content with dilly-dallying on the war issue.

The word on the street is that a Vermont chapter of Project Occupation is forming and, given the heel-dragging going on by Leahy, Sanders and Welch, all three may have some campers in their offices very, very soon. Once again, you heard it here first…

But the best line in all the coverage of the Pelosi protesters was about their sleeping arrangements. They are, it turns out, literally sleeping on Pelosi’s lawn.

“It’s been fine,” said one protester, “until the automatic sprinklers go off at 4 am.”

While it’s not exactly a Mayor Daly/Chicago/1968 scenario, the use of the water to send the protesters fleeing is kind of comical – er, I mean – hostile. Fuck it, I mean both. Deal with it.

But, like any good liberal Dem, Pelosi’s not about to do away with her amenities in the support of a cause. You see, liberals purchase amenities to support their causes. They never do away with them. That’s so 1960s.

Oh hell, all this talk about the war and soldiers has made me start jonesing for a drink. I’ll be back later…

[Special Snarky note to Senator Shumlin: Will we see you at McGillicuddy’s again tonight?]

Just Read It

2007-03-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

Holy shit. What a day. But I promise not to pull a Freyne and tell you all about it – photos and all. Because, unlike Freyne, I know we all go through hectic days. The good news is that now it’s nighttime, I’m sipping yet another cup of coffee, and hoping to give you, dear readers, the snarkiness you seem to be looking for.

Speaking of readers, my weekend emails set an all-time high. Yowza. Tips galore. And stories. And gossip. And nice little gems like this: “Shut up ass-face.” Pitter-patter goes the snarky heart.

Let’s begin by looking at the mail while my Vermont Coffee Company night brew slowly kicks in. But, before I begin, let me remind my readers that your mail is sacred with me. I DO NOT name names unless you want me to or you send me some whacked-out nonsense like the Beaudry family does from time to time with a threat attached to it that they’re going to read it on air if I don’t cede to their demands. Poor Beaudry’s. It must be hard to wake up every morning and wonder how they’re going to get through the day using their native language as if they’re just learning it.

Speaking of Beaudry, I got a tip over the weekend on the op/ed piece that appeared in today’s Times-Argus by a Norwich Cadet, Christopher Hein, a guy who seems to be in Beaudry-like training for human reasoning and the lack thereof. This poor rook apparently did what Beaudry does for all his homework: watches Fox News – especially Bill O’Reilly -- until he hears the “fair and balanced” slogan enough so that he can’t smell the bullshit.

When Hein’s piece arrived in my email box I thought it was a hoax and no one in their right minds at the Times Argus would print it. But, as I fumbled through the paper this morning, there it was.

Hein’s piece, entitled “Anti-War Events are Publicity Stunts, Work Against Troops’ Interests,” is boilerplate pro-war ninniness. You know the stuff: Sounding off against the war is harming our troops; the media is a liberal cabal; Cindy Sheehan runs the world; and, other than telling anti-war people to shut the hell up and stuff our democratic ideals down our pie holes, this war is about promoting democratic ideals. Go figure.

But Hein propagates the nonsense started on Beaudry’s show that “Sheehan was brought to Vermont by the State Legislature.” And even though the angry-mommy, Marion Gray, who started that ridiculous lie on Beaudry’s show, has since recanted it, the bottom feeders of this kind of drivel haven’t quite come to grips with this fact. Earth to the Pro-War Crowd: The State Legislature did NOT bring Sheehan here or pay one penny for her appearance. Besides, the committee she appeared before was chaired by one of your GOP brethren, Vince Illuzzi, although I’d bet he wouldn’t consider himself one of your brethren – mostly because he appears to have a thinking gene.

Hein also spends a lot of time speaking about anti-war “publicity stunts” and the complacent media that follows them like city pigeons following bread crumbs (my words, not his – he’s not that clever). But did he say “publicity stunts”? Oh yeah, like Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” stunt – flack jacket and all! Or how about Bush’s Thanksgiving appearance in Baghdad a couple of years ago? Or how about that Saddam hanging? Or the Colin Powell appearance before the UN before the war – you know, the one where he declared the evidence that really wasn’t evidence amounted to a “slam-dunk” when it came to proving Saddam was about to enter our living rooms, marry our daughters and demand the remote control so he could make us all watch CBS News instead of Fox. Evil Fucker.

Yeah, Sir Hein(y), we know all about publicity stunts.

But before I let this future Bush fodder – er, make that soldier – go, taste this delicious line from his TA piece: “The problem that we have here in the United States is that we only have one point of view of the war and that is the media.”

Is he, by any chance, trying to say that Fox News is the same as Democracy Now? It sure feels like it, huh? Poor fella. Someone’s gotta break it to this Heiny soldier boy that the idea of the media in a so-called democracy is a plethora of voices and views. And when your side is spending billions upon billions of dollars on a war that has hijacked the lives of hundreds of thousands of U.S. soldiers and killed three thousand of them, it’s really hard to take you seriously when you pretend to be a powerless victim. What is it, Sir Heiny, that you want that you haven’t already got when it comes to this war? More fucking body bags? Take a hike.

Freyne Wipes His Nose, photo to come! It sure seems like that, doesn’t it? I mean, how many reporters go to cover an event and come away with photos of them covering the event? Or, worse, come away with copy about them and their relation to the event? The answer: Why, Peter Freyne, of course.

Over the weekend, Freyne decided it was newsworthy to be at the Burlington Airport to greet Senator Leahy as he got off a plane from DC. And, you guessed it, Freyne got some schmuck in the airport to stop and snap a picture of Freyne and Leahy smiling for the cameras. Yep, it was yet another “look at me! look at me!” report from Freyne. But I’m guessing he was really there in the hopes that Saint Patrick would offer him a job so he could quit making a journalistic ass of himself for repeatedly running headlines like: “Leahy Airport Saturday.” Wow, and what will he do on Sunday? Church? Sorry Peter, Leahy’s whereabouts would be news if the headline was more like “Leahy Planet Rock Saturday.” But the fucking airport? Wake me when you’re done snapping the photos.

And now, today, Freyne’s still following Leahy around – but careful not to make Sanders or Welch jealous because he still can’t decide which one he loves more – by attending the silly little farm bill hearing the threesome had at the State House. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know all about it, only because you’ve read all about it so many times you can shed that farmer tear just from the headline that says “farmer.” Boo-fucking-hoo. And if you don’t know all about it, here’s the forty-year recap: Farmers are working hard, making less, producing more and going out of business due to what appears to be a little known financial reality to the farming world known as – are you ready for this – capitalism. Holy shit, Batman.

But that’s not what I’m ranting about today. Nope. Been there, done that. Instead I’m going to show you how Freyne turned a supposed news event into a story about – drum roll, please – HIMSELF. Taste this from his blog entry that was supposed to be about the farm bill:

Funny thing, when I gave up the booze a couple years ago, I also gave up milk. The milk, unlike the John Power's Irish, was not deliberate. It just happened as my diet shifted to fruits, vegetables and salad.

You don't think giving up milk caused the cancer, do you?

Nah, it was probably giving up the booze… By the way, I'm back on milk. A quart a day.

Feeling pretty good, too

.

As for the farm bill hearing, well, you’ll just have to read the real papers to get news about that.

And the reason I started this particular Freyne rant was that I received numerous emails over the weekend from folks who gave two snarky thumbs-up to my earlier Freyne coverage, all wondering the same thing I wondered: How long must his column go on? The guy needs a break. Take it, Peter. Please?

Send In The Progs: Finally, I got an email from a reader asking me why I never mention Vermont’s Progressive Party. Well, I beg to differ. Don’t you remember the little contest I ran here that asked you, dear readers, to tell the difference between the Prog flunky Anthony Pollina and Kiss’ Gene Simmons. I mean, what more do you want from me?

But the email did inspire me to go over to the Prog’s website and conclude that, indeed, I haven’t missed a fucking thing by ignoring them. In a time of war and impeachment talk the Progs have apparently decided to ignore both burning issues. Instead, they’ve decided to feature the Progressive Mayor of Burlington in a Mardi Gras costume on their front page. Oh yeah, that’ll build the base…

Sorry, but I find it nothing short of leaderless for the Progs to continuously hide from the big issues of the day. Where, for example, were they during the Sheehan hearing? Did Big-Bad Bernie tell his junior players to stay home? You know you’ve got trouble when you’re a third party and the fucking Democrats are making you look sleepy and rudderless.

Come on, Progs, get a clue. Lead, or get out of the way. Personally, I prefer the latter.

And that concludes this episode of Random Snarky Boy. Sorry I didn’t get to much mail but – hey – there’s always tomorrow.

Love always,

Snarky Boy

Vermont Media Watch

2007-03-09T18:04:00.000-08:00

TGIF, my friends. But before your not-so-friendly Snarky Boy makes a complete ass of himself by pretending he can dance, I had a few more things I needed to get off my chest. Let’s try a new formula to get a whole bunch of crap off my desk at once:

Bernie & Jane’s Swanky Night Out: Sam Hemingway at the Free Press’ great blog, VT Buzz, has the scoop on Bernie and Jane Sanders’ high-priced night out in Naples, Florida last weekend. Yep, the so-called man of the people was spending more than $1000 per night to stay in the Naples Ritz-Carlton. And he would have never mentioned it to those struggling dairy farmers he’s always pretending to help if he wasn’t caught in the lobby by – are you ready for this – Rich Tarrant. Richie-Rich is an ass in his own right, but how delicious must that moment have been for him? I mean, these are the kind of digs that we’d all expect Rich and his plastic wife to be bedding down in, but Bernie & Jane?!? Tarrant, of course, didn’t keep his sighting of Bernie secret, either, phoning up Vermont reporters until someone ran with it. Nice work, Sam, although – come on – this story fell right in your lap thanks to the still-bitter Tarrant. And the biggest question in all of this is: How much longer will Bernie get away with his little charade of being “connected” to the little guy? He’s gotten away with giving very little of his very large salary away to charity. He’s gotten away with putting his wife on his payroll to make his family even more money. He’s gotten away with have his wife make his media buys for his $6 million campaigns, thus funneling hundreds of thousands of dollars back to his family. And then he acts like he’s doing society a fucking favor by promoting a piss-ant increase in the “minimum” wage. If Bernie was for real, he’d pass up these oh-so pricey nights and send the check to one of those unemployed workers he likes to exploit by having them cry next to him during campaign season. Enough already.

Newspaper Blogs Shine: Speaking of newspaper blogs, it’s time for Snarky Boy to tip his hat to two that are shining bright of late. I’ve already mentioned the Free Press’ blog but not the person there that I’ve found the most readable: Terri Hallenbeck. A big hat-tip to you, Terri, for the fine blogging and back-story that you’re serving up. The other bright star is the new kid on the block, the Times-Argus’ Vermont View. Thankfully, it’s replaced the most dreadful blog of Darren Allen, the guy who jumped ship to work for the Douglas administration. The Vermont View just launched this week but Vermont Press Bureau reporter Dan Barlow is already making it a must stop on a daily basis. Both of these blogs seem to have figured out a great niche for the mainstream media and blogging: They’re pithy, readable, not what you’d find in the paper, and they’ve got the contacts and insider info to make them matter. The oh-so-many wannabe news bloggers in Vermont should take a few lessons from these two sites and realize that it’s content that matters, not whining, navel gazing and a free blogger account. How many times, for example, do these pros take photos of themselves or publicly meet to celebrate themselves? Never, because they’re too busy taking the craft of writing and journalism seriously, you dopes.

Newspaper headline of the day: “Clinton Embraces Platitudes.” And, no, it wasn’t from USA Today. That one came from this morning’s Washington Post. I kid you not. But because it was about Hillary, I didn’t bother to read it.

Peter Freyne Needs a Vacation: As you probably know, Snarky Boy gets lots of good tips and quips from media folk and – believe it or not – political players. Hey, it surprised me, too, until one of them said the obvious: “You’re doing and saying what we want to be doing and saying.” Well, who’s stopping you? Oh yeah, you’re not painting for a living…

But one of the most frequent comments I’m getting of late is about Freyne’s need to take a breather or seek a change of venues. I was all over him before his cancer diagnosis and, after he made the announcement, I held my tongue. But now he’s back and doing anything but holding his tongue so – damn it – he’s got to be fair game again.

“He’s just getting nastier,” is the typical kind of thing I’m hearing from folks, especially those who have to work around him and endure his “it’s all about me” approach to news conferences. Personally, I think he’s been mailing it in for quite some time, bored about his job and stuck in a column that he’s doing more by rote than inspiration. I mean, come on, how hard is it in Vermont to sing the praises of every incumbent politician except Douglas over and over and over again? Like I said, he’s mailing it in – and for a nice price, too. The 7 Daze ladies are, for whatever reason, infatuated with him and just keep shelling out the big bucks for his same old dopey stuff.

Take, for example, Freyne’s last print column. In a piece headlined, “Sen. Sanders Update,” Freyne writes what could have been a press release issued by Sanders’ office. In other words, not a peep about Bernie sleeping in high-priced hotels (with Tarrant, nonetheless), about Bernie sticking his finger in the eyes of the growing Vermont impeachment advocates, or about Bernie failing to lead a credible anti-war movement in the Senate. Nope. Instead, it was what we’ve all come to expect from Freyne when it comes to Bernie: All fluff all the time. Don’t believe me, consider this quote from Bernie that Freyne ended the piece with: “Parking is fine, and we have a nice office as well. A big office.” Yeah, and please, Bernie, hire Freyne to sit in that big office so you can spare us any more of his ass-kissing drivel.

Freyne then goes on to attack Shay Totten of the Vermont Guardian for his publishing decision to “go green” by ceasing the print edition of his weekly and, instead, focus on web publishing. Sounded like a good idea to me. In fact, Freyne seemed to piss his pants with excitement when Peter Welch went “carbon neutral” to help the environment, so why the hatred for the Guardian for going a step further? Oh yeah, jealousy. Trust me, Freyne hates competition, especially when he knows his own column is getting as tired as a fat man running a marathon.

But after taking silly shot after silly shot at Totten and the Guardian, Freyne follows it up with this headline: “Cancer Update.” It was, of course, an update on his cancer treatment. And while Snarky Boy obviously wishes him the best in that regard, I have to question his and his editors’ wisdom for allowing him to take nasty pot-shots at everyone he doesn’t like and then follow it up with an oh-by-the-way-I’ve-still-got-cancer-piece. So fine, if Freyne wants to attack – cancer or no cancer – Freyne’s got to expect some counter attacks.

Mark Johnson’s Awkward Moment: Let me preface this bit of snark by saying there is no one better at radio in the state of Vermont than Mark Johnson. I’ve said it here often and I’ll say it as often as I can: Johnson’s just damn good. Period. And, when my clients allow it, he gets me through many mornings of painting.

But I have to say he fumbled a bit today during his Bill Cosby interview. Yeah, Johnson interviewed Bill Cosby. How cool is that? To cut him some slack, Johnson didn’t get Cosby on until about 10 minutes before his show was ending, so it felt obviously rushed. Cosby was on to promote his upcoming show at the Flynn and to talk about his favorite subject: education, a not-so-off-topic for Vermont while we endure the revolting repeal crowd (or is it: Revolt & Repeal? Whatever).

The education talk was fine, if not merely superficial due to the time constraints. But then, as time was running out, Johnson asked this question: “Before you go, can I ask you what you think about Barack Obama’s campaign for president?”

Honestly, I winced when I heard the question. And, apparently, so did Cosby. But after a deep breath, Cosby responded with a very simple answer: “No.”

And why not? “Because,” continued Cosby, “it’s not necessary,” stopping before allowing a moment of silence that all but said: Just because I’m black doesn’t mean I have to care about, support or comment on a black candidate for president.

Then Cosby continued: “In this race, Hillary is running as a woman. But Obama is running as a black man.” And then, only moments later, time ran out and the Mark Johnson audience was left with a rather awkward moment to head into the weekend with.

Point taken, Bill. And I’d bet if Mark had it to do all over again, he’d either shit-can the question or present it in a different manner and – most importantly – with some more time to go back and forth on it.

Oh hell, I’ve got dancing to do. First beer’s on me….

If Peter Welch Was a Race Car Driver…

2007-03-09T09:35:00.000-08:00

According to his latest financial disclosures, Peter Welch is a stockholder in all of these corporations. So while he drags his feet on most things meaningful, you have to wonder what’s on Peter’s mind. Hmm, perhaps his million-dollar portfolio? Perhaps.

While Welch Removes Ass-Splinters from His Long Sit on the Fence, Woolsey and Others Speak out Boldly

2007-03-09T08:12:00.000-08:00

As kind of an update to the snarky rant below, check this out from Congresswoman Lynn Woolsey in regards to yesterday's pathetic announcement from the Dems. And then ask yourself, what in the hell is Welch waiting for?

Brazil to Bush: Stop the Bullshit NOW! Dems to Bush: Take All the Time You Need! And Welch Just Dithers.

2007-03-09T07:26:00.001-08:00

Well, there were no flowers or chocolates being handed out there, either. Brazil, that is. The place down under that President Bush is currently visiting to spread his message of – ahem – do what we say or we’ll kick your ass. And, not surprisingly, the good people of Brazil are taking to the streets by the thousands with a greeting that the Bush clan is getting all too familiar with: “Get Out, Imperialist!”

But, back on the home front, the Dems keep offering Bush the shelter he doesn’t deserve. In Vermont, the three-Dem-stooges of our congressional delegation heard the message from Vermonters on Town Meeting day with regard to ending the war NOW and impeaching Bush and – well – ignored it. Completely. So, the message from Leahy-Sanders-Welch to the grassroots people of Vermont was: Bug Out! Wow, nice movement building, Dems.

Of course, none of this is surprising. The Dems have proven time and time again over the last several decades that they have no idea how to lead. And being bold is simply not in their vocabulary let alone their abilities. It just doesn’t happen.

There is, for example, one way for the Democrats to listen to the will of the people and begin to put an end to this war: Cut off the funding. It’s really quite simple. But, yesterday, House Speaker Pelosi came forward with yet another embarrassingly spineless compromise under the name of “the Dem plan” that would continue the FULL funding for the war, allow Bush’s absurd surge, and – get this – kinda-sorta-maybe call for a troop withdrawal by the fall of 2008. So, once again, the message from the Dems to the grassroots people of the world was: Bug Out!

The Dems are, of course, scared shitless by the notion that the Roves of the world will equate any kind of de-funding of the war with not supporting the troops. Quite frankly, that is the most asinine, weak-kneed, illogical and just plain brain-fart dumb kind of weenie excuse that even a blue-dog Democrat could muster. Oh, and did I say it was chickenshit, reckless, un-democratic and – lest I forget – threatening to the troops. You know, those guys coming home in body bags or to inferior treatment at Walter Reed. Oh yeah, baby, keep supporting those troops to death.

Our ambulance-chasing congressman, Peter Welch, was, as usual, slow to the draw on his response to the Pelosi plan. It was, as usual, a big fat zero. If, like me, you’ve bothered to call the very unorganized office of Welch since he took office, you’re getting very used to this response from the young lads answering his phones: “The Congressman hasn’t decided how he’s going to vote on that one.” By all means, Peter, take your fucking time. It’s just a war…. This guy couldn’t make a quick decision to vote on what goddamn day it is.

But for those citizens lucky enough to be represented by politicians without a wet finger in the air to determine the direction of the political winds, they got to wake up and hear this quick reaction to Pelosi’s nonsense: “All this bill will do is fund another year of the war, and I can’t vote for it.” That was from New York’s Jerrold Nadler. And he was joined by many other Dems with a spine, including Maxine Waters and Sheila Jackson Lee, folks who clearly understand that more time in Iraq KILLS troops.

But Welch? He’s still thinking. And thinking. And thinking. And the troops? They’re still dying. And dying. And dying.

Take your time, Peter.