I'm back on the Secret Beach Jukebox, after a mega-extended hiatus, with an epic piece (also just published in Chicago's own Landline quarterly) exploring the back-alleys of so-called childrens' music. Featuring such almost-legends as the Tinklers, Human Skab and Old Skull, and guaranteed to blow yr. mind with shit like this:
Oh, but in a sudden twist, Gingrich scores big in South Carolina--indeed, people do love their Money! In his victory speech Newt (no last name needed!) made repeated jabs at Obama, the "foodstamp President," promising that he'd instead be the "paycheck president"--oh, but Newt! I'd much, much rather have the foodstamps! You'd never imagine the feasts they allow me! Do you mean to suggest that you're going to take away my foodstamps, you walking porkchop?--you pustulated meatball of a presidential candidate? You will never take away my foodstamps! Paycheck president my ass, paychecks are fickle. But of course Newt cannot, will not, could never gain the final prize--he is too blindingly piggish, too obscenely porcine to ever win hearts en masse. Mark my words (tm)!
My take on the GOP field, for those few souls who might possibly be interested in my unwashed opinion: the admittedly boring race has come down to the four fundamental cornerstones of modern politics, as respresented by (in one corner!...) the Money Candidate (Gingrich), the Family Candidate (Romney), the Religious Candidate (Santorum) and the Internet Candidate (Paul). No great shocker when the Family Candidate (his wife of 42 years has multiple sclerosis and is sometimes too tired to cook! "I like peanut butter sandwiches and cold cereal," he assures her--"We could do fine with that as long as we have each other") eventually wins the day; of these core conservative pillars, Family runs deepest and broadest. Conservatism and family-rearing are ancient, unholy bunkmates and enjoy a strong philosophical alliance whose mantra--Take Care of Your Own--might as well be on the Republican Party letterhead. Mark my words!
