Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

For the sake of ornament and illumination.

POETRY

Postby admin » Tue Oct 01, 2013 10:46 pm

Zombies Don't Come, by Charles Carreon

It all happened right here, in me.
The whole thing
everything
right here
peter frampton was right
i'm in you
You're in me
probably not how he meant it
but anyway
saw him once at the Ventura County Fair by the beach
poor bastard
me, I mean
stuck in a motel with wife and daughter
the daughter and I
decided to see the show
Actually, he was pretty good
And then I remembered
He was the guitarist in Humble Pie
Who fried my brain
At the celebrity theatre
on a full hit of orange sunshine
Came on after Loggins & Messina had me all blissed out and
electrocuted my ass
Goddamn singer talking cockney smack about a run-in with a London whore
Uuuuuuugghh
Dragged my mind through the fuck'n gutter
Then ground me through a brutal version of I don't need no doctor
Killer tune
Killed me about a dozen times
Then, when I was dead,
Turned me into a zombie
With everyone else
And moshed us psychically
with his fuzztone
Including the bit where the
bass player goes real quiet
Then cranks it up to eleven
So the whole floor falls out from under you and everyone else
And the whole room has an orgasm
sorta
except for me
cause I'm a zombie
and I know it
unlike the rest of them
and zombies don't come
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sun May 17, 2015 2:19 am

The Ballad of Javier Solis
by Charles Carreon

The DEA came into town,
One dark and slimy day,
Dressed like punker-hippie-
military-tattooed scum,
With consecutively numbered stacks
of Treasury-issued cash
To do some deals and add
some meth to Uncle Sammy's stash.

They haunted bars and strip joints
Like real tattooed scum,
They hung around, talked shit
And told pornographic jokes,
Treated Mexes at the bar
Like ordinary folks,
And at suspicious intervals
Got up to take a whiz,
Made faces like they'd copped a buzz,
And were always up for biz.

Well soon they'd rounded up
A nice young man from Nayarit
Who swore his uncle knew a man
Whose crank was pure and sweet,
He tossed off his tequila,
The cops poured him one more,
They set the deal to go down
In a chicken coop at four.
Those doughty DEA guys thought
They'd hatched a nice surprise.

At three o’clock, the backup team
Arrived at their spot on a ridge above
The chicken coop described.
In the dry and dusty valley
The snipers cleaned their sights.

At four o’clock, the narcs rolled up
All bad in their Mustang 5.
With their bag of funny-money,
And swaggering gangster panache,
With their visible guns and hidden badges,
They were ready for anything,
Hoping for action.

Behind a counter in the heat
Sat a man with a poundscale,
A scoop, and some bags,
A heap of some whitish substance,
And a smile as warm as the sun.
The scum looked at each other,
And jerked their guns real fast.
But the Mexican started laughing,
And waved his hands at last.

He wasn't frightened, didn't cry,
And explained in perfect Spanish,
The fertilizer was not that dear,
And there was no need to steal it.
Besides the boss had always said
The police were all their friends.
“What's that guys name?”
A Spanish-speaking cop was quick to ask.
"Oh, he's well known around these parts.
He's called Javier Solis."

Then the man was very helpful,
And showed the DEA
How he mixed the powders and liquids
In a manner he'd well-memorized:
"Two scoops of this, one scoop of that,
Mix well and cook with this.
Decant, then strain, and filter again.
We made several pounds each day,
And at the end of every week,
Solis took it all away,
Bringing beans, tortillas, chile,
Bacon, chicken, cabbage too.
A very good man Solis was,
Kind and honest, just like you.
I'm sure he'd want you to have it,
So take a pound or two."

They took him into custody
But hell, it was no fun.
He knew it was a mixup
And didn't try to run,
Besides, they'd got the name now
Of a local drug kingpin.
They decided they should go back
Undercover for a spin.

Back in town, they quietly whispered
To the guys in the strip-bar toilet
That they sought Javier Solis.
Like a charm, the name
Drew forth laughs and knowing nods.
"Sure," said a dapper fellow
Slicking his hair in the mirror,
"He goes to that one place all the time ...
You remember ese," he says,
Turning to his comrade,
Whose head bobs in agreement,
"It's in that town where the mill gone closed,
A little bar, where I think he owns a share,
Cause him and his homies,
They're always drinkin there."

So they went to the bar in
the town up the road,
And asked if Solis was there.
A helpful fellow answered
"Dude, you missed him,
He was here,
But I know where he's going,
And if you hurry
You might catch him there."

And so they went from town to town,
Chasing old Solis on down,
Till at last their Mustang lights
Revealed a motel by a lettuce field,
Where an old Marine smokin' Chesterfields,
Was watchin’ TV at the manager's desk.

They told him, whispering closely,
They were looking for Javier Solis.
The manager squinted, and twisted his head
And answered “Say that again?”
They repeated themselves,
And when he was sure that they’d said
What he thought they had said,
He started to laugh,
And turned to the screen
Where a charro with a guitar on horseback
Serenaded a girl with long, black hair.
As he smiled with satisfaction, he said,
“That’s the man, right there.”
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Sun May 24, 2015 3:49 am

You Can’t Defeat an Avocado
by Charles Carreon




Image

(It’s like a wind that blows a thousand miles an hour.
You will be like -- “All my shit has been blown away…”)


Yeah many man's tried
And many man's died
Because you can’t defeat
An avocado
An avocado may look small
But inside, it’s ten feet tall,
That’s why you can’t defeat an avocado
You may learn some lessons in your life
From your husband or your wife
But until you see the light
You don’t know wrong from right
But you need never fear
The avocado’s here
And you can’t defeat an avocado
We’re takin’ bets here every night
The smart money’s always right
And you bet
That it’s on
The avocado
Because you can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t
Defeat
An avocado
Like Napoleon at Waterloo
My friend that will be you
If you attempt to overthrow
An avocado
Yeah, like Hitler at Stalingrad
It will be that bad
If you try to defeat
An avocado
Now wine comes from grapes
And people came from apes
But an avocado has a pit
And that’s just the heart of it!
So you can’t
No you can’t
No you can’t
No you can’t
You just can’t defeat an avocado
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Mon Jul 13, 2015 1:39 am

Freedom From Fear
by Charles Carreon
7/12/13

I'm looking for a savage purity,
An individual turn of mind,
Something to bequeath futurity
That everyone would like to find.

Freedom from fear!
How about that?
Freedom from death
By heart attack
Or lack of money
How about that?
That's as real
as a heart attack.

An inner revolution is
What we've got to stage
The Devil's in charge
A complete outrage
We lick his boots
And polish his silver
We stack it up
And hope that some will stick to us
But it never does,
We're always behind,
Fighting to keep up
Till we fall over in the race
You got your heart attack
And your place in the graveyard
For all the good it did
You might have never been born

So you see we're in prison
We gotta break out
Well actually
We gotta break in,
Because the key's inside
If we all just grab it,
Things'll be all right.

You gotta break in
To where you're locked in
Watching television
And drinkin' gin,
With your worries stacked up
And your fears in charge
This is your life.
You're livin' large.

Mean -- while
Your limousine awaits
At the gate
Anytime you want to come
To the party
You won't be late
Too bad
You're lost inside
an illusion.
The truth is a place
You can be
Where things will clear up
Eventually
You just need a little patience
It does take a little time,
But you see it can be done
You can learn to have fun
Being good
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:05 pm

Untitled
by Charles Carreon

Don't rush
Don't tarry
With the flow
You go
Serving all beings
Without second thought
Harvesting the fruit
of Buddhahood
without effort or care
Awaking on the cradle
of true self-love.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:09 pm

Persona
by Charles Carreon

He was the son of a
man named Jim,
And though it may
seem strange,
It wasn't easy for him.
You see, he was thin and pale,
a cheek like a sail
an eye as black
as a hole in a sail.
His mouth was like a smear
of plum juice on a page.
And he was born in what
would come to be regarded as
a darkling age.
A time when the craven practices
of numbreless generations
had taken wing, as it were,
Across the face of the nations.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:15 pm

Day One of Last Day Diary
by Charles Carreon

If today were the last day
of my life, what would I say?
If I had only this page to
express it.
Well, of course, to answer that question,
I'll need to assume the circumstances
of my death, which would tend
to color the content of my speech. Ha ha.
But if it just was going to end in a
very ordinary way, I'd say, today,

I have had a heckuva ride
I almost don't want to spoil it
by going on about it
But I must go speedily to the nub
of it and say
Blessed was the day
A fair young maiden
looked my way
and blessed has been
every day I've spent with her
and the darkest day with her
I would abide again
For the sake of the lifetime
We've had together.
You are the sun
I wait for in the morning
The voice I long to hear
In the deepest chamber
of my heart.
I know you have always
wanted to know that I love
you enough to want to stay
with you forever,
to the exclusion of all others.
I have it figured out now
You and I shall be
Together forever
And there will be
No others.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:18 pm

On the Origin of Clouds
by Charles Carreon

Tantric entanglement
The weaving of essences.
Vibrations that create the
illusion of solidity.
Space that accommodates
gradations of density.
Abstraction between and among
illusory chunks of this and that.
The tendency of things to
assume a spherical form.
The emergence of local gravity.
The interplay of fluctuating temperatures.
The arising of cyclic alternations.
The emergence of rhythms.
The shuffle begins its movement,
The weaving begins.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:45 pm

Burning Man Journal
by Charles Carreon

Image

Soul music and white
people for breakfast
Keepin' your own bottle
of pee
All your garbage is yours
I toss a small knot of
string out the tent door,
knowing someone will remark
upon it.
I wait less than an hour
before a Burner throws it
back in the door, casually,
as if it had caught her
eye a minute before, and she'd
just decided on the
course of action
for dealing with a nikulturni
virgin.
I make instant Chai
not very good
Make real tea
Eat plum pie
Share plum pie w/
Cliff & Atira.
Fix my bike tire.
See Scotto
Finally -- clarity
Bike Rock City
4:15 & G
I'm there-bound.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Wed Feb 17, 2016 3:03 am

The Devil Came to Cibolo
by Charles Carreon
2/16/16

Devil Cibolo Audio Acapella Rough Cut

Down in South Texas,
The Devil drives a Silverado,
Wears a pistol on his hip,
And keeps a shotgun by the throttle.

He fears no man and no one
Speaks his name.
He spurs his metal mount
And it belches smoke and flame.

He devours the far horizon
In that pickup made in hell
Under Henry Ford's direction
With Jimmy Hoffa's help,

He aims it for a ranch
Where the rich have secret lives,
Because one of those old bastards
Won't leave that place alive.

His soul is sold
And the Devil holds the note!
Scalia crossin' Styx tonight
In a goddamn cigarette boat!


Scalia spent his last free day
Shootin' little birds,
He's a master of life and death,
And judgment is affirmed.

Go straight to hell, do not pass go,
Your ticket has been burned.
If mercy ever touched his soul,
The lesson wasn't learned.

The Devil's patient to the last
And gives the Judge his blessing.
His silver tongue at his last repast
Was never more convincing.

He enjoyed the room, the company,
The food and fine libations,
The Devil loaded him with charm
And his friends oozed adulation.

No need to rush
To a night that never ends
Soon he'll find himself
With a whole new set of friends

His soul is sold
And the Devil holds the note!
Scalia crossin' Styx tonight
In a goddamn cigarette boat!


Once in his bed,
His limbs go slack
And he feels somewhat restrained,
He tries to move,
The bonds get tighter,
And someone calls his name.

As his spirit's dragged away in chains
He looks back at his lifeless body
Fat, and old and getting cold,
Worm-meat by next Sunday.

He's awake now
In a night that never ends
Soon he'll find himself
With a whole new set of friends

His soul is sold
And the Devil holds the note!
Scalia's crossin' Styx tonight
In a goddamn cigarette boat!


Skipping Scalia autopsy spawns conspiracy theories
By Gregory Krieg
CNN
February 16, 2016

(CNN)Three days after Justice Antonin Scalia was found dead in his room at a luxury hunting ranch in remote West Texas, the conspiracy theories about his passing continue to swirl.

A local judge's decision not to order a post-mortem examination have triggered a round of questions ranging from scrutiny of the procedures to the bizarre.

Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump on Monday referenced a report from the scene about Scalia's body when asked on a radio show to comment on the possibility that Scalia may have been murdered and whether there should be an independent investigation into this death.

"They say they found a pillow on his face, which is a pretty unusual place to find a pillow," Trump said on conservative radio host Michael Savage's show "The Savage Nation." Savage called for "the equivalent of a Warren Commission"-style investigation into Scalia's death.

In a statement Tuesday, the owner of the ranch clarified to CNN what he meant when he told the San Antonio Express the judge was found with a "pillow over his head."

"I think enough disclosures were made and what I said precisely was accurate. He had a pillow over his head, not over his face as some have been saying," John Poindexter, owner of the Cibolo Creek Ranch, where Scalia was found, told CNN over the phone. "The pillow was against the headboard and over his head when he was discovered. He looked like someone who had had a restful night's sleep. There was no evidence of anything else."

A U.S. law-enforcement source told CNN: "There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in Justice Scalia's room. There were no signs of foul play."

The source added that law-enforcement agents know know the difference between someone dying in their sleep and being suffocated to death with a pillow.

But despite the assertions of law enforcement and local justice officials that all signs pointed to death from natural causes, questions about the process they followed have flared on social media.

The former head of criminal investigations for the Washington, D.C., police, poured fuel on the conspiracy theory fire.

"As a former homicide commander, I am stunned that no autopsy was ordered for Justice Scalia," William O. Ritchie wrote in a Facebook post on Sunday, according to reports. After seeking to cast doubt on the conclusion of the deputy U.S. marshals who responded to a call from the ranch, he added, "My gut tells me there is something fishy going on in Texas."

Ritchie told CNN on Tuesday that there is still time to act because Scalia isn't lying in repose at the Supreme Court until Friday and his funeral isn't until Saturday.

"At least you have a trained medical professional look and make an examination," Ritchie said. "There is sufficient time to do that."

The conspiracy theories surrounding the death run the gamut. In an "emergency transmission" posted on Facebook, Infowars' Alex Jones said, "The question is was Anthony (sic) Scalia murdered?" while the site Harddawn.com speculated that "the Illuminati" might have been responsible, calling Leonard Nimoy — who died last year — "the wild card in this equation." And a number of sites have made reference to a so-called "heart attack gun," a secret CIA weapon that could, per their claims, have been used to kill Scalia.

At issue are a series of decisions made by the Texas county judge who took charge in the aftermath of Scalia's passing when two justices of the peace sought out by those at the ranch could not make it to the site.

Reached by The Washington Post late Monday, Brian Monahan, a U.S. Navy rear admiral and the doctor who had reportedly cared for Scalia, declined to comment, citing "patient confidentiality."

The county judge, Cinderela Guevara, didn't immediately respond to CNN's request for comment.

Guevara was within her rights to declare Scalia dead without having seen the body under Texas law, the Washington Post said.

The U.S. Marshals Service coordinates with the Supreme Court police to provide security for the justices but they may decline protection. In this instance, the USMS detail was declined, so USMS personnel were not present at the ranch. Deputy U.S. Marshals from the Western District of Texas responded immediately upon notification of Scalia's death.

Members of the high court do not routinely make their health information public, like presidents and presidential candidates.

Guevara did not order an autopsy -- the same decision, according to The Post, that the Scalia family made when speaking to the El Paso funeral home that received his body.

George Washington University law professor Jonathan Turley said an autopsy should have been performed.

"Frankly, I'm surprised there was not an autopsy," Turley told CNN's Dugald McConnell. "I was also surprised at how casual the treatment of the scene appeared to be. I mean, you had someone pronounced dead over the description of marshals on the phone. This is not just anyone, this is a member of the U.S. Supreme Court, one of the highest officials in the judicial branch, therefore one of the highest officials in our government."

Asked about the conspiracy theories, Turley said, "There's obviously an insatiable desire from many people to look at facts and see something untoward or suspicious. The Internet doesn't help that ... We are living at a time where conspiracy theories are a virtual sport. The fact that you had a justice who died and was left in his room for hours doesn't mean this is some Hollywood script. What it probably means is that a justice passed away in his room and was left for hours. Nino Scalia did have medical problems, he was 79 years old."

An earlier version of this story misidentified Jonathan Turley. He is a professor of law at George Washington University.

Mary Kay Mallonee contributed to this report.


The death of Antonin Scalia: Chaos, confusion and conflicting reports
By Eva Ruth Moravec, Sari Horwitz and Jerry Markon
February 14, 2016

MARFA, Tex. — In the cloistered chambers of the Supreme Court, Justice Antonin Scalia’s days were highly regulated and predictable. He met with clerks, wrote opinions and appeared for arguments in the august courtroom on a schedule set months in advance.

Yet as details of Scalia’s sudden death trickled in Sunday, it appeared that the hours afterward were anything but orderly. The man known for his elegant legal opinions and profound intellect was found dead in his room at a hunting resort by the resort’s owner, who grew worried when Scalia didn’t appear at breakfast Saturday morning.

It then took hours for authorities in remote West Texas to find a justice of the peace, officials said Sunday. When they did, Presidio County Judge Cinderela Guevara pronounced Scalia dead of natural causes without seeing the body — which is permissible under Texas law — and without ordering an autopsy.

As official Washington tried to process what his demise means for politics and the law, some details of Scalia’s final hours remained opaque. As late as Sunday afternoon, for example, there were conflicting reports about whether an autopsy should have been performed. A manager at the El Paso funeral home where Scalia’s body was taken said that his family made it clear they did not want one.

One of two other officials who were called but couldn’t get to Scalia’s body in time said that she would have made a different decision on the autopsy.

“If it had been me . . . I would want to know,” Juanita Bishop, a justice of the peace in Presidio, Tex., said in an interview Sunday of the chaotic hours after Scalia’s death at the Cibolo Creek Ranch, a luxury compound less than an hour from the Mexican border and about 40 miles south of Marfa.

Meanwhile, Guevara acknowledged that she pronounced Scalia dead by phone, without seeing his body. Instead, she spoke to law enforcement officials at the scene — who assured her “there were no signs of foul play” — and Scalia’s physician in Washington, who said that the 79-year-old justice suffered from a host of chronic conditions.

“He was having health issues,’’ Guevara said, adding that she is awaiting a statement from Scalia’s doctor that will be added to his death certificate when it is issued later this week.

Guevara also rebutted a report by a Dallas TV station that quoted her as saying that Scalia had died of “myocardial infarction.” In an interview with The Washington Post, she said she meant only that his heart had stopped.

“It wasn’t a heart attack,” Guevara said. “He died of natural causes.”

In a statement Sunday, the U.S. Marshals Service, which provides security for Supreme Court justices, said that Scalia had declined a security detail while at the ranch, so marshals were not present when he died. “Deputy U.S. Marshals from the Western District of Texas responded immediately upon notification of Justice Scalia’s passing,” the statement said.

One thing was clear: Scalia died in his element, doing what he loved, at a luxury resort that has played host to movie stars and European royalty, and is famous for bird hunts and bigger game such as bison and mountain lions.

“Other than being with his family or in church, there’s no place he’d rather be than on a hunt,” said Houston lawyer Mark Lanier, who took Scalia hunting for wild boar, deer and even alligators. Lanier said he first learned of Scalia’s love for hunting through former Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O’Connor. “He’ll do anything if you take him hunting,” Lanier recalled O’Connor saying.


Scalia had recently returned from a trip to Asia, where his last public event was a book signing in Hong Kong. John Poindexter, the Houston businessman who owns the Cibolo Creek Ranch, said Sunday that Scalia and a friend arrived Friday by chartered aircraft, traveling through Houston. At the ranch, Scalia joined about 35 other people invited by Poindexter, who declined to name the other guests.

Later that day, Scalia went out with the group to hunt blue quail. But “he did not exert himself,” Poindexter said. “He got out of the hunting vehicle and walked around some.’’

Law enforcement officials said Scalia attended a private party that night with the other guests and left to go to bed early. But Poindexter said that didn’t seem unusual: All of the guests were tired from traveling to the remote ranch, as well as the day’s other activities. Everyone was in bed by 10 p.m., he said.

Scalia’s behavior, Poindexter said, “was entirely natural and normal.’’

The next morning, Scalia did not show up for breakfast. Poindexter at first thought he might be sleeping late, but eventually he grew concerned. Late Saturday morning, he and one other person knocked on the door to Scalia’s room, an expansive suite called the “El Presidente.” When there was no answer, they went inside.

“Everything was in perfect order. He was in his pajamas, peacefully, in bed,” Poindexter said.

Emergency personnel and officials from the U.S. Marshals Service were called to the scene, then two local judges who also serve as justices of the peace, Guevara said. Both were out of town, she said — not unusual in a remote region where municipalities are miles apart.

Guevara also was out of town, but she said she agreed to declare Scalia dead based on the information from law enforcement officials and Scalia’s doctor, citing Texas laws that permit a justice of the peace to declare someone dead without seeing the body.

On Saturday evening, Scalia’s body was loaded into a hearse and escorted to the Sunset Funeral Home in El Paso by a procession of about 20 law enforcement officers. It arrived there about 2:30 a.m. Sunday, according to funeral home manager Chris Lujan. The funeral home is about 31/2 hours from the ranch where Scalia died.

About 3:30 a.m. Sunday, Scalia’s family declined to have an autopsy performed, Lujan said, so the body was being prepared for Scalia’s funeral and was expected to be transported to Washington on Monday. Late Sunday, it was under guard by six law enforcement officials, including U.S. marshals and Texas state troopers, he said.

Funeral arrangements for Scalia — a devoted Catholic who was given the last rites by a Catholic priest — were unclear Sunday.

Horwitz and Markon reported from Washington. Lana Straub in Marfa, Tex., and Alice Crites and Robert Barnes in Washington contributed to this report.


Why Should You and I Have to Keep Paying Mitch McConnell’s Salary?
By Jim Hightower
February 25, 2016

Image
We’re paying this guy a salary of $174,000 a year, plus another $19,400 for his “service” as majority leader. It’s insulting that he won’t even go through the motions of doing his job.

Antonin Scalia is gone. The nastiest and noisiest of right-wingers on the Supreme Court is dead.

But he can’t be any more brain dead than Mitch McConnell, the Republican leader of the U.S. Senate. In a blatantly partisan ploy to prevent President Obama from nominating a successor to Scalia, McConnell has cited a historical precedent dictating that presidents who are in the last year of their term do not name new justices to the high court. “Therefore,” he babbled, “this vacancy should not be filled until we have a new president.”

What a silly old squirrel McConnell is! Article II of the U.S. Constitution plainly states that the president “shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint … Judges of the Supreme Court.” Note that the Constitution says the president “shall” do this — as a duty to the nation. Nothing in the founding document suggests that this power and duty is voided in an election year. In fact, 13 Supreme Court nominations have been made in presidential election years, and the Senate took action on 11 of them. McConnell’s assertion is bogus (and silly), for history and the Constitution clearly back Obama.

Ironically, one who would have nailed McConnell for such a slapstick political perversion of plain constitutional language is Scalia himself. He practiced what he called “originalism” in his official judgments, insisting that the Constitution must be interpreted only by the words in it and only by the original meaning those words had for the founders when they wrote them into the document.

McConnell’s squirrelly stall tactic is as ridiculous as it is shameful. It’s also totally hypocritical, since Mitch himself voted in February 1988 to confirm a Supreme Court nominee put forth by Ronald Reagan — in the last year of his presidency.

This leads me to ask, why should you and I have to keep paying McConnell’s salary? Not only is he a Senate majority leader who doesn’t lead; the lazy right-wing lawmaker really doesn’t do anything, refusing to pick up the legislative tools he’s been given and go to work on the many things that We The People — and America itself — need Congress to do. Imagine if you tried doing nothing on your job — just drawing your paycheck after ignoring your workload!

Repeatedly, this senatorial slug says no to every task at hand. Repair and replace the water pipes that leach lead and are poisoning families all across America? No, he yawns. Raise the minimum wage to help bridge the dangerous wealth gap separating the superrich from the rest of us? Don’t bother me with such stuff, Mitch snaps. Shut off that gusher of corrupt corporate money pouring into our elections and drowning the people’s democratic rights? Not my problem, shrugs the lumpish ne’er-do-well.

And now a straightforward constitutional duty has been handed to McConnell: Gear up the Senate’s “Advise and Consent” mechanism to approve or reject President Obama’s nominee to replace Justice Scalia. We’ll do it tomorrow, muttered the somnolent senator, content to put off his responsibility to our nation’s system of justice until next year, long after Obama is gone.

We’re paying this guy a salary of $174,000 a year, plus another $19,400 for his “service” as majority leader. It’s insulting that he won’t even go through the motions of doing his job. Of course, saying no to all the chores he ought to be doing for the people is exactly what the corporate sponsors of his Republican Party expect from him. They want an inert and unresponsive government, a poverty-wage economy, a plutocratic election system and a court of their own choosing.

So “Do Nothing” Mitch is their boy. But at the very least, shouldn’t they pay his salary, rather than sticking us with the cost?
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