Lions, Tigers and Nazis! Oh My!

Strange night in the cafe last night. Actually more disturbing than strange. Allow me to explain (in whole formed sentences no less!). The cafe where yours truly toils away has become quite the meeting place for support groups, Weight Watchers, and what have you (even though that it is incredibly small and housed within a large corporate warehouse of a bookstore). Anywho, last night the biggest group that has ever graced us with its presence decides to show up. They are a group who is trying to elect John Kerry to president, so in other words, they represent smart, good people of the world, the yin to the country's collective yang. So they completely take over the place, moving all the tables around so they can be comfortably seated and stand up to hand out voting paraphanalia and such. It's really no big deal. I mean, they're a bit loud at first, but they are nice, and have good politics, so what the hell, right? Wrong. Some short man in a blue shirt and these weird granny reading glasses complains and says that they ain't got no right to do that and that he wants them thrown out of the store. My sweet manager (not my unvirginal love-cake known as Bob but rather my green party adherent honey cake known as Rebecca) informs him that this still is America and that they have every right to do whatever the hell they want to. Bastard does not take well to this and says that he is going to bring in a group of Nazis and let them meet in the cafe (which, I just thought, would be interesting given that one of my fellow baristas is a sardonic Jew fresh from a trip to Israel, who, I swear to God, could tear anyone I know to shreds just by utilizing his lightning fast wit). BUT ANYWAY, the jerk threatens and then leaves in a big ole huff after he realizes that we're just not going to do anything for him.

Which I gotta say, is interesting. I usually do not wax political on the ole blog, but I must make an exception to share this stunning political thought: conservatives are stupid. They get all worked up about nothing at all, and while they're busy getting worked up and thinking about what to do to all of us crazy liberals, they let one of their own go ape-shit crazy in the damn White House. Seriously, I think that if most of them would quit worrying about the size of Michael Moore's bank account or about any questions with John Kerry's military record, they would realize what a out and out little shit George Bush actually is. If Bill O'Reilly would stop screaming for about 4.3 seconds, he might see that he and his crones are turning this country into a festering hole of poverty and warmongering.

One more thing: What's the deal with the ole Nazi obsession? I, personally, am tired of Nazis. The damn History Channel might as well be the 24 Hour Nazi-A-Thon as everytime I turn on the TV, that's what's on. If you want to win an Academy Award, you always go for the Nazis (I want to think the Third Reich for giving me the opportunity to play this role...oh, and the Academy). And the number one curse thrown on anyone if they step just one inch out of the political middle (either to the right or the left) is "NAZI!" Is this wierd? I think so. Suddenly Michael Moore is a Nazi (if you don't believe me, check out the IMDB message boards) because he wants to help his country, Gloria Steinem is a nazi because she believes in a woman's right to choose what happens to her body, George Bush is a nazi because he killed thousands of innocent Iraqis (well, ummmm). Personally, I'm sick of it. I don't care what side of the fence you're on: nobody is a Nazi except maybe my next door neighbor, but well, you didn't hear it from me. So don't use the term. It's old. If you really want to hurt someone, call them a beast, or a fat beast, or a Jerry Falwell lovin' mama's boy. Don't call them a Nazi.

So on that note, I will retire. I know this is rambling and rather bad, so please don't confuse my literary inadequacies with my political views. I have damn good views, I'm just not the best at expressing them sometimes. Damn Nazis.