Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

A Miami school has discouraged teachers from getting the Covid vaccine, saying any vaccinated employees will be barred from interacting with students--News Item
 
This is one of those stories that, when read, cause the reader to think, “Hey, the reporter meant the opposite of that. Some copy editor is going to get his ass handed to him today.”
 
Not so—the story is apparently true. The school in question is the Centner Academy, a pricey private school for pre-k through middle school in Miami. Oddly enough, Centner is not a Christian institution. You might almost expect this behavior at a place called, for example, Christ the King Christian School for Kids Who Are Not Little Homosexuals.
 
But Centner is a secular institution, or at least I gathered that from a brief glance at its web site. Its core value is “mindfulness,” whatever that means. They do charge 15K a year to raise your toddler to appreciate vague bullshit, which they are going to have to generate and at least pretend to appreciate the rest of their lives in order to be successful Americans, so I’m not arguing with their business model. It strikes me as the kind of school where children are taught to be nice to poor kids, without ever taking a chance on actually having to  meet one.
 
The no-vaccinated-teacher policy was put in place by Leila Centner, the school’s owner, who is a committed anti-vaxxer and conspiracy theorist. Leila recently bought the school and named it after herself. In an ordinary school, the administration is eager to have their teachers vaccinated, because they know all kids are little mucus-balls that only attend school to infect their classmates and their teachers with the latest in microbes.
 
Leila thinks the opposite is true—her teachers only want to get vaccinated so they can blow Bill Gates brand 5G tracking chips out of their noses and festoon their charges with them like hot snot. Gates will now know if your kid is having his or her birthday party at the country club, or whether you’re cheaping out and slumming it at Chuck E. Cheese.
 
Why does Gates want to know this? Four words-- worldwide child sex slavery. Yes, it has been linked to the vaccine.
 
One child was advised by her teacher not to hug her vaccinated parents for more than five seconds apiece, which did not sit well with the parents, who yanked their kid out of Centner, just so they could exercise their freedom to spew vaccine gobs willy-nilly all over their hapless tyke.
 
Although why you would want to hug a kid for more than five seconds is a mystery to me. FULL DISCLOSURE: I am fully vaccinated.
 
It has not increased my affection for children.

Much has been made of the fact that Josh Hawley, the junior prick from Missouri, was the lone Senator to vote against an Asian hate crime bill recently, leaving the distinct impression that he doesn’t think hating Asians should be a crime.
 
Of course, he didn’t say that—he said the statute was “too broad.” What he meant by this is tough to say. Is it okay to hate Chinese but a crime to hate Filipinos? Ask the Senator, if you get a chance.
 
What Hawley was really trying to do was be the biggest dick in the Senate, on the theory that America wants the next Republican nominee for President to be an enormous asswipe, and there already is a Senator who is a humongo douche who’s dying to be that nominee. I speak, of course, of Ted “Cancun” Cruz. Cruz has inspired scorn from both sides of the aisle. John Boehner, ex-Speaker of the House, said recently of Cruz, "Lucifer in the flesh...I have never worked with a more miserable son of a bitch in my life."
 
From the Democratic side, Al Franken once wrote, "I like Ted Cruz more than most of my other colleagues like Ted Cruz. And I hate Ted Cruz."
 
So, Hawley has a big hill to climb, and he made giant strides up it the other day by voting to tolerate hate crimes against Asians. Even Cruz voted that maiming or murdering someone simply because they were Asian was not even remotely cool. Hawley fancies that he is positioning himself at the head of the field by being an even more remarkable dickhead than the rest of the Republicans.
 
He may be right. Certainly, the most obtuse peckerhead in American history to gain the Oval Office just finished filling out his single term, and Republicans still love him. They’d even love to nominate him again, according to polls. They may not get the chance too, though, because Trump may succumb to a richly deserved criminal conviction or a similarly well-deserved stroke before 2024 rolls around.
 
If that happens, the Republican with the richest history of shitbaggery may well snag the nomination. Hawley is young and new at the game. He is handsome, in a pale, probably-has-a-small-penis kind of way, but he has to make his mark quickly against more seasoned slimeballs so he can stand out against the competition, which is likely to include Mike “How About You Mow My Lawn, Ambassador” Pompeo, Chris “Fuck Them People on That Bridge” Christie, Ron “Death Sentence” DeSantis, and the aforementioned “Cancun.”
 
So, Hawley is sending out a message that is bold, clear and easily understood and appreciated by the Republican base. That message is I only give a crap about white people.
 
Republicans might as well put that in their platform.

Ted Nugent made the news a few weeks ago by loudly denying the existence of the pandemic, making a Facebook Live video in which he demanded to know what was the big deal about Covid-19, since Covids 1 through 18 had been dealt with without masks, vaccines or shutting down the economy.
 
Asking stupid questions is an important component of complaining, and Ted was bitching because he had to cancel his latest tour. Now, this was not a tour that real pop stars would go on, in which they filled arenas in state after state. Ted, when he tours, takes a bus to various small-town bars and rodeos, where a few hundred toothless old meth heads gather so they can shout a couple bars of “Cat Scratch Fever” along with the demented has-been. Then they go home and take their chances with a fentanyl overdose.
 
Ted then added to the present-day’s copious store of irony by catching the ‘rona himself, emerging from a two-week stretch in his sickbed to complain that he thought he was going to die from the virus, apparently expecting sympathy, instead of the derision that he so deservedly got instead.
 
In other news, scientists flew a helicopter on Mars. Not only did they launch a probe that traveled hundreds of millions of miles to another planet and not miss it, they landed it softly on that other world and launched a helicopter from its surface, the better to find out if life once existed there and if humans could one day live there, too. Although why we would want to is not clear, but getting away from Ted Nugent might be one possible motivation.
 
It’s enough to make you wonder if these accomplished engineers and scribbleheads like the Nuge belong to the same species, which is ours. Oddly enough, the answer is yes, and, once again dipping into our brimming irony bucket, the reason we can answer in the affirmative is that science tells us so.
 
One of the definitions of a species is that any two opposite-gender members of it can mate and produce viable offspring, and while Ted, his sperm addled by seventy years of loud music and poisoned by the Nuge-man’s constant inhalation of gunshot residues, might not be capable of fathering a child now, he might still be, and if he mated with a brilliant young female engineer, after a few minutes of the horror of having sex with Ted, that scientist might very well find herself pregnant by the composer of ‘Yank Me, Crank Me’.
 
The offspring of a NASA genius and a man who writes songs about handjobs might be an odd child indeed, perhaps a young man that dreams of going to other planets and sampling the poontang there, but he would be unquestionably human. 
 
As are the scientists who rendezvoused with an asteroid last year, and the doctors who made the shot that went into my arm and made me confident I can go to Mexico next weekend without getting sick. Equally homo sapien are the people who think Bill Gates wants to plant a microchip in their plump asses and that dinosaurs are mythical creatures invented by Satan to promote the Dark One’s lie of evolution. We’re all part of the human family.
 
It’s pretty fucking depressing, when you think about it.

Reps. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.) and Paul Gosar (R-Ariz.) were starting a right-wing caucus in Congress that sought to “follow in President Trump’s footsteps.” In their founding manifesto, they also stated that U.S. is “a nation with a border, and a culture, strengthened by a common respect for uniquely Anglo-Saxon political traditions,” which is “threatened when foreign citizens are imported en masse.”—News Item.
 
The fact that these Congresspeople don’t seem to know that it has been illegal to import foreign citizens en masse since 1808, when transporting slaves from Africa to the US was banned by a previous Congress, should in no way be held against this proposed new caucus. Lack of historical knowledge and precision in language should not mask the seriousness of purpose of this wannabe group, led jointly by a lady who bought a gym just so she could cruise for three-way sex in it and a guy who likes to get paid to talk to white supremacists.
 
The caucus has a particular hard-on for modern architecture. Under “infrastructure,” the platform promotes “architectural, engineering and aesthetic value that befits the progeny of European architecture.”
 
The use of the phrase “befit the progeny” here indicates that the group could easily have been called the Caucus That Likes to Use Big Words Without Understanding Precisely What They Mean, but I’m thinking what they mean here is that all government buildings should have domes and spires, and the fact that in non-Anglo-Saxon Asia and Africa there was sophisticated architecture for thousands of years, during which our European ancestors were building huts with sticks and mud, should always be ignored.
 
Congressman Matt “Just Touch It for Me, Baby,” Gaetz, wanted to be in the caucus as soon as he heard about it, immediately making him the member most likely to be the first indicted. “Anything that Marjorie ‘Give Me One in My Mouth and One from Behind,’ says is good by me,” said Gaetz, whose former wingman just became an FBI stoolie.
 
Louie Gohmert, who doesn’t know the difference between the Iron Curtain, which was what the USSR imposed in Eastern Europe after WW II, and the Steel Curtain, which was the Pittsburgh Steelers defense in the ‘70’s, was said to be eager to join the group, as was the noted Neanderthal congressman from Alabama, Barry Forbes.
 
Surprisingly, fellow Congressional Q-cutie Lauren Boebert did not immediately jump on the running board of the White Nationalist Stagecoach as soon as it set off. I don’t know why. It’s not because she realized it was stupid, though, because saying an idea is too stupid for Lauren Boebert to entertain is like saying a woman is too promiscuous for Matt Gaetz to do likewise.
 
 
Yes, white people have had a good run. Europeans have made many contributions to the world’s music, from Beethoven’s “Song of Joy” to Ted Nugent’s “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang.” Their cuisine has rocked the globe’s taste buds, from quiche Lorraine to smothered tater tots. Their achievements in art range from Michelangelo’s David to Sponge Bob SquarePants, and in commerce from the World Trade Organization to the swap meet.
 
White people did not invent war. They did, however, invent nuclear war. Take that, Lao Tzu.
 
Americans think that they dwell at the apex of Anglo-Saxonality, although white people in other countries tend to think we live in a savage place of constant semi-automatic weapons fire, where every daycare center is guarded by a vigilante with an AR-15. But even we Americans, living at the center of the white world, have to admit that some of the things we depend on to live have been gifted to us by non-white people, like the numerals we count with and the concept of money itself. Plus, tacos.
 
Maybe that’s what House Minority Leader Kevin “My Nose Is Still Firmly Up Trump’s Ass” McCarthy pointed out to Marjorie Taylor Greene when she braced him with concept of the America First caucus. Or maybe he just said, “How fucking stupid can you be? Wait—I know the answer to that,” as he nixed the formation of the not-nearly-subtle-enough-about-our-overt-racism coffee klatch.
 
So, we’re not getting a America First caucus after all. Bad start to the week, if you ask me.

Pastor Rick Wiles, while channeling Jesus for our protection, has said that Dr. Fauci created the coronavirus while working with the Chinese Communists to destroy America, and needs to be waterboarded at Guantanamo until he admits it.
 
This is a fairly strong position, to say the least, but we’re not going to argue about it here. If it is necessary for the preservation of America to waterboard a diminutive, mild-mannered, 80-year-old man until he stops exclaiming “Oh, my goodness,” and starts speaking Mandarin, let’s get on with it.
 
The little problem standing in the way of God’s will re Dr. Fauci is that Guantanamo is currently under the supervision of Fauci’s boss, Joe Biden, and Joe is not likely to order his chief medical adviser there for a long weekend of Cuban sunshine and physical torture. Matt Gaetz’s zipper has a better chance of staying untouched at a high school dance.
 
How can the President defy the will of Wiles? Because, according to another spokesperson for Christianity, Mario Murillo, the head of Mario Murillo Ministries, an organization that probably exists for the sole purpose of funneling money to Mario Murillo, Joe Biden is surrounded by a Demonic Hedge of Protection, which, one assumes, is maintained by The Landscapers from Hell, a largely Spanish-speaking force of imps who specialize in greenscaping services for people like Biden, who are too busy doing Satan’s work to mow their own lawns.
 
Dr. Fauci no doubt labors behind the Demonic Hedge every day and is immune to Wile’s plans for him.
 
The Demonic Hedge reminds deep-thinking theologians like myself of the Prayer Shield that Christians liked to erect around Trump when he was President, and leads me to wonder: Which is the better fortification, a Demonic Hedge or a Prayer Shield? Let’s compare.
 
Prayer Shields are erected by Prayer Warriors, sincere beggars of the Almighty, who pause their beseeching of the heavens only long enough to give their debit card numbers to people like Wiles and Murillo. Prayer Shields, despite all the braggadocio about their invulnerability, obviously can’t keep you from getting impeached twice or having a virus sweep you out of office. They can’t keep you from spelling stuff on Twitter comically incorrectly. Hey, they can’t even keep you on Twitter.
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The Hedge, on the other hand, can make a 78-year-old stutterer seem calm and coolly Presidential, give him a handle on a vaccination deal that promises to have us all at a beach party by summer, and lets him hand out free money, so that we can all enjoy living on tax-exempt cheese, like Wiles and Murillo already do.
 
So, right now, we’re giving the edge to the Demonic Hedge. Stay tuned.

Went off the grid when I visited my ancestral home, my peeps, if you were wondering where my hard-core sarcasm went for a week.
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​I went to church on Easter. Not because of some sudden revelation, or because I needed to show off a new outfit, or even because I wanted to, because I never want to go to church. But my soon-to-be 91-year-old mom wanted to go, and she can’t go anywhere by herself nowadays.
 
Even she had her doubts about the project, because we couldn’t go to her parish’s Mass. She can’t handle the steps, which are many and steep there, any more. We had to go to another Catholic church, which, even though it is only a few miles away, my mother was suspicious of. “I heard the priest was weird,” she said of its pastor, repeating some piece of scuttlebutt she had picked up on the gossip chain of old Catholic ladies who judge the relative normalcy of priests.
 
“All priests are weird,” I told her. She still shoots me dirty looks when I say things like that, but she is stooped by age and instead of her hard stare piercing my faithless soul as she intended, it more or less bounced off the sidewalk.
 
The church was about two-thirds full, and there was a side room where, if you feared the covid too much to gather together with them, you could watch the Mass on Zoom with a bunch of other people. Everyone was dressed better than I was, because they had planned to be there and I hadn’t. The fact that young Catholic women tend to dress in skirts so short and heels so high on Sunday, that, if they were loitering on an urban boulevard instead of being in a house of God, they could easily be mistaken for prostitutes, was one of the few entertaining facets of that otherwise barren hour.
 
The singing was left to the choir, for fear of the virus, I imagine, and I was grateful for that, for the sound of a bunch of white people singing off-key is not pleasing to me, and I can’t imagine God likes it much either. The choir even belted out a song that was familiar to me, and I went through several rounds of Catholic calisthenics before I figured out that it had been on the soundtrack of one of my favorite movies, O Brother Where Art Thou?
 
The only other difference I noted between my last Easter Mass of about forty years ago and this one, besides the inclusion of a fundamentalist Baptist hymn in the Catholic service, was that the priest now sprayed holy water, which he called “Easter Water,” over the entire congregation. He did this by dipping a sponge on a stick in a bucket of the blessed H2O, walking around the perimeter of the crowd and flicking it at us. He hit me up once while passing to my right. My mother and I were sitting in the back of the church, in the handicapped section, and while finishing up, the priest soaked me again with a surprise shot of the sacred fluid, this time from behind.
 
Guess he figured I needed a second coat.