Book Review

Gentlemen, I was just re-reading one of the fine tomes of the last century: Homage to Catalonia. George Orwell's brilliant prose is only matched by his stunning political insight. I do believe that you could replace Chris Matthews with Comrade Orwell's rotting corpse and the level of discourse on Hardball would improve tenfold - although perhaps the smell would be worse. However, that would be offset when members of this administration, who smell like the sacks of shit they are, are guests on this fine show.

Compare the works of Orwell with the pathetic excuses for authors that exist today whose only goal is to appear on the Oprah Book Club. The pathetic tripe which passes for "literature" in our society is perhaps best exemplified by the religious, or sometimes quasi-religious, "works" of "authors" such as Dan Brown (he of the Tom Hanks adapted DaVinci Code) or whatever monkey at a typewriter pounded out the Left Behind series. Perhaps, if the American proletariat ever awaken from their tequila and Miller Lite induced slumber and overthrow the lying sacks of shit which run this country at the behest of their corporate overlords, we would retain these "writers" to pen instruction manuals for DVD players. More likely, they would be forced to work for the first time in their life and quickly find that their lives of pleasure based off lulling the American people into a deep sleep would be what is "left behind."

Tequila is the Quaff of the Mentally Bankrupt

I am forced to work in an inglorious hovel that exists only to serve tourists, a group of people whose wealth has so saturated their collective consciousness that they travel to mundane places to justify their pathetic and moribund existences. Listening to their inane supper chatter is as painful as listening to Pearl Jam destroy a classic Who anthem. The only thing that makes attending to such sheep tolerable is alcohol, which both loosens their wallets and silences their pitiable personalities.

Of late, however, I have found an increasing number of tourists enjoy consuming the distillate of the agave plant in massive quantities. This boorish and stupid activity transforms normally complacent fools into loud and obnoxious ignoramii, spouting catchphrases derived from their television sets. These people are brainwashed by the media, like hopeless mice in a laboratory maze with no exits, American Idol and Grey's Anatomy the rotting cheese. And for a reason unknown to this humble intellectual, tequila is the newest drug, used to sedate the masses for whatever imperialist purposes lie behind the red tape and closed doors that now represent this country's "highest" office.

The day will come when those inebriated and incompetent sacks of shit will be forced to answer for their pathetic decisions, and their realities will be buried beneath a tide of self-awareness. The only fermented beverage fit to be consumed by an educated man is vodka, the perfect alcohol, clear as crystal, carefully crafted over hundreds of years of labor and toil. A chilled glass of excellent vodka is as close as one in my unfortunate position can get to perfection, where I can relax for a moment from my never-ending struggle to save this doomed citizenry, and imagine society as it should be, free from the oppressive chains that bind every corner of this Atlantean nation.