Palmetto State Blues

I'm ashamed to be a native South Carolinian right now. All Rightist Republican smear campaign roads lead straight back to my home state, the backwater swamp that spawned Lee Atwater. The SC idiot-ridden populace aided and abetted the trashing of John McCain's good name and image at time when he, McCain, was getting ready to wipe the floor with W's smirky, frat boy face.

Most South Carolina retards were merrily led via their bovine-like natures, which are quite easily herded into any racist or homophobic frenzy, by Atwater's hideous Toad Man, that devil-spawn He Who Must Not Be Named - Lord Voldemort Rove. Like taking candy from a baby it was so easy, so backwoods is this place.

South Carolina was where Rove honed his power-crazed, mad wizzardry that ultimately led him smugly right on into the Oval Office, where he now sits on the right hand of Smirking Frat Boy and oversees this ultimate wipe-out of anything remotely associated with political truth in America.

I wish I could articulate my anger better over this hideous fleecing we've been hounded into by Republican operatives and conformist, grinning, little truth-eating creatures such as Rove and Robertson and Delay, and every mega-church "disciple" following their retards-only, talking-points road to some tacky-as-shit Judgemental Mall of The Americas. Fortunately, Paul Krugman, in his column today titled Karl Rove's America, is here to tell the story with a little more clarity than I can muster right now.

Sorry-ass, piss-ant state filled with the stupidest, most stubborn, un-evolved Muggles on the planet, excepting some of my immediate family members of course and assorted blogger-psychiatrists. I'm never going back. So there. I know they're all crying in their grits at the thought.