You know I hate polls. Right? Hate them more than spinach and spam. hate them more than the smell of my morning breath. More than that ingrown hair high up on my inner thigh that rubs against my jeans all day and turns into a whitehead. More than Seigfried and Roy. More than the fact that my cat can lick her labia and I can't even scratch my ass without turning around. I hate polls.
i don't read them. i don't live my life by them. I don't wake up and open the paper and expound on what a beautiful day it's going to be, because Bush is in the toilet waiting for Cheney to be flushed ahead of him. That's not how I roll.
So, imagine my surprise and chagrin when I read the following:
U.S. Troops in Iraq: 72% Say End War in 2006
Now, the shock is not that soldiers are a little tired of the crap they're going through. That's natural. Getting shot at, watching buddies get blown apart, being told to smile real big when the politicians come acalling, refrain from shooting everyone in sight because they can't take another day of being called an invader and infidel and the devil. Not a cool gig. No R and R in Hawaii or the Philipines after three or six months of incountry duty. No chance at a tickertape parade. No medals, no college, no bonus, no exit.
To me, though, the real pisser is that 90% think this war is about retaliation for Saddam Hussein's role in the 9/11 attacks. Um, they don't get out much, do they? I imagine with bullets whizzing by and bombs going off and factions attacking each other the common grunt might not get much time to surf the web and search out the real news. But 90 friggin' per cent? 90?!? Not oil, not revenge for an assassination attempt on Shrub's daddy, not global hegemony, not The Neocon Deal, not even "hey, this is the only thing Republicans think they're good at". No, they all seem to think that Saddam was involved in the Twin Tower attacks. Still. To this day. As I write and you read. They think they are there for revenge, because Saddam somehow trained, financed and bought flight training for the terrorists. Wow.
But I wasn't finished with being surprised by the latest polls.
Not only do I find the lowest support for these two in almost ever, but they give me two great pictures to go with it with the numbers right below. Hosanna in the highest. Manna from Heaven. An edible fruitcake. Wonder of wonders. Actually, I think these are the lowest. I don't remember Bush going lower than 37% and Cheney below 21%. Of course, you know this means war, right? These two won't take this sitting down. Cheney will come out guns ablazing. And Bush will practice his smugly pensive look each night until it's time for ice cream and jammies. And Iran might want to close its borders and arm its anti-ballistic missiles just in case. I mean, now that New Orleans is a non-issue (passed its 90 day warranty this week).
But really the one thing that got my dandruff in a freefall today was reading that this group is calling for a boycott of advertisers on Desperate housewives. They claim (and I quote)
Wildmon calls the show "one of the trashiest programs on television. Many people consider it to be the most offensive, so we decided to take on the worst of the worst."
Wildmon, by the way, is a man and he is speaking for onemillionmoms.com. Good to know who wears the pants there. Why can't they boycott The Bachelor or Deal Or No Deal? Or The Apprentice? Or Jay Leno? Or Oprah Winfrey? Or the nightly local news? Right there is enough trash to cause a garbage strike in Manhattan. But no. They have to go after one of the very, very few intelligently written shows out there. Trashy? Some of it is...akin to the recycle not yet taken out. Or the clean green that waits to be mulched.
What these people object to is sex and sex talk. Cuz they all know that that kind of thing never happens in real life. At least, not in suburban Stepford life. Or where their husbands are concerned. And none of them are going to be seduced by the lawnmower guy. And none of them are going to get a shot a conjugal prison visits. But some are going to pass out on their lawns. And many of them are going to emasculate their husbands. And almost all are going to become their mothers (which isn't necessarily a bad thing if they can remember lessons learned). And a lucky few will sleep around for much longer than is socially acceptable and not contract any lasting diseases. And that very lucky One will become a community pariah for whatever reason and wake up and turn into Shirley Maclain's character from Steel Magnolias.
And what is it with everyone naming their group a million something? In this same article there's a onemilliondad.com and I'm wondering what exactly they did wrong to get forced into it. Stain the sofa? Fuck the maid? Vote for Kerry? Play the wrong Lotto numbers? Leave the cake out in the rain? What? Because no man in his right mind joins one of these things if his world is on a fairly even keel. No man wakes up in the morning and says to himself "you know, those 999,999 other men seem sane and happy and I feel like jumping off a cliff today". Not even to get laid. It just ain't cricket.
Unless, of course, it's NASCAR.