THE BIKER VOTE?

To borrow a phrase from Edna O’Brien, “August is a wicked month.” And perhaps, for one of my mindset, today might be the wickedest day. I thank heavens the 13th doesn’t fall on a Friday. Maybe I should just stay in bed.

I woke this morning (it was still the 12th) and some media clown (I was so disgusted I forgot the source) was going on – in the aftermath of John McCain’s visit to the Sturgis bike fest – about how Barack Obama couldn’t win the “motorcycle vote.” Okay, so worry about the white proletariat and the NASCAR vote, but outlaw bikers? Gimme a break. Who ever worried about the biker vote? If for no other reason than by far the majority of bikers that I have ever met or hung with – and there have been quite a few – had felony convictions and couldn’t vote. Personally, I’d worry more about the stoner/dopefiend vote. Despite getting high as a youth, Obama hasn’t said a word about his attitude about the War on Drugs and we all know why. He’s too chickenshit a’ feared of the reaction from Middle America to any talk of legalization. But he also knows there’s hardly a stoner for McCain who could find a polling booth.

Then I open my email and find a missive from Elf Hellion that “A body that may very well be the body of the creature commonly known as ‘Bigfoot’ has been found in the woods in northern Georgia. DNA evidence and photo evidence of the creature will be presented in a press conference on Friday, August 15th from 12 Noon to 1:00pm at the Cabana Hotel-Palo Alto at 4290 El Camino Real in Palo Alto, California, 94306. The press conference will not be open to the public. It will only be open to credentialed members of the press.” A joke that, after the press conference, the body would be roasted and served for lunch with a robust Sonoma red wine did not go down well.

And that left me sitting in front of the computer wondering about the general sense that many of us seem to be waiting for the Bush crew to pull some horrendous totalitarian coupe that will be the death of us all. I did however receive a link to a cool movie, False Flags, Lies, & Nuclear Bombs, recounting the rap-sheet of Bush horror, bookended by clips of Bill Hicks. Do yourself a favor, click to watch.

CRYPTIQUE – The government has no more right to regulate what I put in my mouth than it can dictate what comes out of it.