“He is no crusader. He is no tribune of the people. He is no enemy of entrenched privilege. He is a pleasant man who, without any important qualifications for the office, would very much like to be President.” -Pulitzer-prize winning journalist & intellectual Walter Lippmann, Jan 8, 1932, on Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s bid for office. FDR is the only man to be elected as President of the United States for more than two terms. Implemented the New Deal, an economic reform policy largely responsible for pulling America out of The Great Depression. Consistently rated by scholars as one of the top 3 Presidents in American history.
My fellow Americans:
Our great nation is in the midst of an economic nightmare. We have seen the recession that exploded in 2008 through, but 2012 promises yet another, the magnitude of which is as of yet to be determined. Our national debt, as of this writing, is over 15 trillion dollars. That means if we divide up the National Public Debt among our citizens, then each citizen of the United States of America is approximately 49,000 dollars in debt, or in a more realistic estimate, each tax paying citizen is somewhere along the line of 135,000 dollars in debt. Holy guacamole Batman, that’s A LOT of cheddar! And it’s steadily climbing. Don’t believe me? I suggest you take a quick peek at www.usdebtclock.org. Besides making your eyeballs hurt, you’ll get a real time update on our fiscal disaster. It’s here, it’s not pretty, and it ain’t just gonna go away.
President Obama has called for a balanced solution to our woes, but has yet to present any sort of viablebattle strategy to get this escalating debt under control. Where is the tax reform? The congressional “super-commitee” had a deadline in November to come to SOME SORT of conclusion concerning our incredibly screwed up tax code, but what happened? They just threw up their soft, well-manicured bi-partisan hands and said “Fuck it!” President Obama obviously doesn’t have the leadership qualities (i.e.- BALLS, which, might I remind you, I have an abundance of) necessary to get these childish assholes in line and have our country big pimpin’ again. How many times can the debt ceiling be raised until the Feddy Guv defaults? What will happen when China (the country we owe the most money to) wants their loot and they want it NOW? One billion short dudes in Mao jackets will be in front of the Federal Reserve chanting “The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! We don’t need no water let the motherfucker burn! BURN MOTHERFUCKER, BURN!!!”
The Republican candidate? When Mitt Romney (because let’s face it, it WILL be Romney on the GOP ticket- no one else has a chance) was recently asked how much money he had, he replied “It’s between $150 and about $200 some-odd million dollars, I think that’s what the estimates are.”
“I THINK it’s between $150 and about $200 some-odd MILLION DOLLARS”?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? The man is comfortable enough with his money to NOT KNOW about a FIFTY MILLION DOLLAR DIFFERENCE IN HIS BANK ACCOUNT? Is this the kind of man you think is going to give a shit about ANYONE other than his ultra-rich cronies? Money isn’t even REAL to guys like this. I have a fucking conniption fit over a three dollar ATM fee when I am overseas. Does a man like Mitt Romney even know HOW to use an ATM? Fuggedaboutit.
Never fear America, Uncle Randy is here. I have a plan to get us out of it, back on top, and fanning those Benjamins like JAY-Z in his latest million-dollar budget music video pimp-fest. It’s not going to be popular at first, but hey, neither were those ugly-ass Crocs thingys and now you got knock-offs from every country in Asia flodding the shelves of K-Marts across the land.
I regret to inform you all, but I’m going to have to cancel Christmas.
Yes, that’s right, when I take office, Christmas will no longer be a Federal holiday, at least until America is outta the red and back in black like AC/DC. On December 25th those with jobs will go to work. Those without jobs will get off their asses and go look for one. We don’t have time for all this holiday nonsense- our hustle is WEAK right now, America- IT’S TIME TO STEP IT UP.
In fact, gift-giving for Christmas will be ILLEGAL. I’m nixing the whole terrible winter holiday consumerist frenzy all together. No more Christmas, no more Hanukkah, no more Kwaanza- basically any sort of once joyous non-secular occasion based on peace, love, and family that people now really just use as an excuse to spend money they don’t have. I can hear the complaining already: “How can President Blythe be so cruel? No Christmas? This is UNAMERICAN! PLEASE, El Jefe, NO! Anything but Christmas! Why, oh God, WHY?!?!?”
I’ll tell you why. Incredibly, on Nov. 8th, 2011 (“Cyber Monday”), Americans spent ONE POINT TWO-FIVE BILLION DOLLARS SHOPPING ONLINE. This up 22% from the previous year, and is the heaviest online spending day in history. That is just ONE DAY’S spending of the 2011 holiday buying orgy. Our economy is in the shitter, and people are racking up record credit card balances (more on that later) buying a bunch of crap they don’t need WITHOUT EVEN LEAVING THEIR LA-Z-BOYS. Once I’m in the White House (which will be repainted Mossy Oak camo for tactical & morale building purposes), this kind of irresponsible fiscal insanity will STOP.
Your squalling brats are gonna have to wait for that what-ever-useless-piece-of-plastic-is-hot-now-thing they have been driving you NUTS to get them for another four years or so. By then they will have forgotten it anyway. Obviously they don’t really care about it or need it in the first place. It’s not like the new Tickle Me Elmo is something an American child REALLY NEEDS, something like, oh let’s say health care, or a strong, no-nonsense educational system that isn’t churning out ill-disciplined, semi-illiterate, self-entitled little shits at an astonishing rate.
Don’t even get me started on the nation-wide public display of PURE SAVAGERY that is “Black Friday”. Remember America, what we do in life echoes in eternity on YouTube. And lately? We look like ASSHOLES.
Americans NEED to take whatever money they were planning on spending for Christmas, even if it’s just one red American cent, and PUT IT IN THE GODDAMNED BANK. Our country is undeniably in a bad spot cash-flow wise, but how in God’s name can you complain about the bad economy, being broke, and blame your financial woes on the government with ANY SORT OF HONESTY AT ALL when you blew January’s rent before November was even over at fucking Wal-Mart? This isn’t a game of Monopoly, for Chrissakes.
To illustrate how I will handle any sniveling, whining, or bellyaching about this particular issue, let me to turn to a part of the American conscious even the broke and illiterate are familiar with (Hollywood), and adapt a scene from a few “A Few Good Men”. Think of me as Jack Nicholson and the American public as Tom Cruise.
President Blythe: “You want a holiday?”
America: “We think we’re entitled to one.”
President Blythe: “You want a holiday?”
America: “We want Christmas!”
President Blythe: “YOU CAN’T HANDLE CHRISTMAS!!!”
America: “Did you order Christmas canceled?”
President Blythe: “I did the job you sent me to do.”
America: “Did you order Christmas canceled?!?!?”
President Blythe: “YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I DID!!!”
So without any further ado, here’s my plan to save America’s economy. I present to you…
1. Cancel Christmas.
I just explained all that. Get over it, suck it up, and deal.
2. Freeze all credit cards until balance is paid in full, then torch them like a crack head smoking his last rock.
Speaking of playing with Monopoly money, let’s talk about our beloved credit cards. The credit card is the bane of the average American’s pocketbook. This is why I DO NOT HAVE A CREDIT CARD. Credit card companies are predatory beasts who know that many people aren’t fiscally responsible enough to handle the illusion of “consequence-free money NOW”. Because let’s face it- that’s what they’re selling. “Oh, the economy will pick back up- we’ll just put this new TV on credit and pay it off later. The interest rate won’t be THAT bad…”
Keep on telling yourselves that, America. It’s worked GREAT so far, don’t ya think?
While it’s hard to find exact numbers due to the constantly shifting economy, my research leads me to believe that the average American household with at least one credit card is in 7 to 10 thousand dollars of credit card debt. By 2007, the ratio of debt to disposable personal income had risen to 127%. We all know what happened in 2008. The subprime mortgage crisis was just a broader expansion of the insanity of the dot-com bubble that peaked in 2000. “Optimistic capitalism”, as I like to call it. The subprime and dot-com nonsense show us that Americans had become, well, there’s just no other way to put this, STUPID with their money. We had forgotten the ancient Greek fable of the ant and the grasshopper.
“Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.” If you have never heard this saying before, write it down RIGHT NOW on a card and put it in your wallet. Look at it every time you whip out that credit card and think about it. The credit card companies want you to forget about that saying. It’s how they continue to exist, draining our accounts because Americans have forgotten the concept of delayed gratification.
If you are deep in credit card debt, IT IS YOUR FAULT. People can whine and complain about how credit card companies have crazy interest rates, about how they are evil, about how they take advantage of people’s gullibility, about how their sign-up agreements are confusing and misleading (see the documentary “Maxed Out” for an example of shifting blame)- the fact of the matter is, you DON’T HAVE to sign up for a credit card. You KNOW why and how they exist. A loan shark is a loan shark, legal or not.
There’s a story I heard once about a man walking through the woods on a cool autumn evening. As he was strolling along, enjoying the crisp night air, he heard a pitiful voice calling out for help from beside the path. He looked down and saw a shivering rattlesnake turning blue and about to die (I know, I know- snakes don’t shiver or turn blue from the cold, but you get the point).
“Please, please, take me with you to your house so that I may sit by the fire and get warm, or surely I will die !” the snake hissed.
“But snake, you are poisonous! I am not supposed to touch you!” the man replied.
“Yes, but I promise, I will do you no harm! Look at my scales! The pattern is fading and turning black from the cold! I am beautiful when I am warm! Take me and put me by the fire and you can look at me all you want- just let me go later!”
“Well,” the man thought, “rattlesnakes ARE really beautiful. And my wife will enjoy looking at him once he’s all warmed up…” So the man picked up the snake, put him under his jacket next to his belly to warm him up, and started walking towards home again.
About a mile down the road he suddenly felt a terrible pain in his stomach as the snake repeatedly bit him. The man cried out and fell to the ground, and the snake slithered out from under his jacket onto the ground beside him.
“Snake! Why did you bite me? I did as you asked, I warmed you, I saved your life! Why did you do this terrible thing?” the man wheezed as he lay there, writhing in pain at the venom coursing through his veins.
“You knew what I was when you picked me up” the snake replied as he slid away and left the man to die.
As I said, I don’t have a credit card. I haven’t had one since my freshman year in college, when as an over-excited and irresponsible 18 year old I signed up for one outside the student commons (those companies lurk outside areas new students congregate. I was a perfect mark). Of course, I IMMEDIATELY maxed it out at Plan 9 records buying all the music I wanted. It was GREAT for about a month. However, even as I was purchasing the entire Die Kreuzen back catalog (what a GREAT band), deep inside I knew I was ignoring my father’s wisdom-
“We don’t buy things we can’t afford.”
I couldn’t afford those records. In fact, I later wound up selling most of them back to Plan 9 for less than half what paid for them in order to make rent money. And the interest I eventually paid on that credit card could have bought me everything Touch & Go (Die Kreuzen’s label) ever put out, on colored vinyl no less. That was my last credit card. I was 18 and I learned my lesson.
America, you are not 18 anymore. It’s time to grow the fuck up. Once I take office, I’m putting all the credit card companies on blast and giving them final notice. Everyone’s credit cards WILL be frozen, the interest rate WILL be fixed at whatever it is at the time of The Big Chill (the credit card law I will enact and name in honor of one of my mother’s favorite movies), you WILL stop buying things you can’t afford, you WILL pay off your balance, the credit card companies WILL be put out of business, and guess what?
You WILL get out of debt.
Amazing in its simplicity, huh? It’s time the credit card racket comes to an end. Amazingly, the Platinum Visa card is seen as a status symbol. This is one of the stupidest things I have ever heard of. To me, it’s a symbol of IDIOCY.
REAL G’s don’t pay a penny more for anything than they have to. REAL G’s count their stacks, not their late fees. REAL G’s know their shit is paid for up front and in cash.
Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.
3. ASTRONOMICALLY high taxes on luxury items, let’s say, oh, 1000% sales tax on shit you don’t need.
When I say luxury items, I want you to remember the second half of my campaign slogan: “Let’s get REAL here” . What do we REALLY need to live, and live relatively comfortably at that?
A) nutritious food
B) adequate clothing
C) moderately-sized and well-insulated housing for ourselves and our families
D) affordable and environmentally friendly transportation to our jobs.
E) dependable and affordable health care.
F) free, quality education for our children.
That’s IT. We do NOT need designer jeans, “bling” of any sort, the latest time-sucking electronic portable gadget (ouch! this is gonna hurt ME), remote control robot vacuum cleaners, $200 tennis shoes, imported Swiss chocolate, McDonald’s/Taco Bell/Burger King/Chipolte etc., ridiculously priced cosmetic goods, huge flat-screen televisions, nose jobs, tummy tucks, face lifts, boob jobs (well, ok, maybe I’ll leave boob jobs alone), multiple residences, a fucking “Florida room”, video game systems (ouch, again!), organic vegan breakfast smoothies, Starbucks (GODDAMN! OUCH!), summer homes on The Cape, memberships at the gym, personal trainers, eyebrow waxes, fucking tanning booths, and horrifically pimped out sports cars.
People buy these ridiculous cars and spend thousands making them look good. You don’t need a sportscar to go to work or to take your kids to school. When I was a kid in Franklin, VA, my Dad drove me & my brothers around in a shit-brown Datsun B-210 we called the Brown Bomber. It was small, but it got us there safely. We drove that car FOR YEARS and a couple of hundred thousand miles until it finally exploded. The Brown Bomber was a Cadillac compared to my mother’s car, a bright orange used Volkswagon Bug she drove all four of us in 533 miles from Wilmington, NC to Chattanooga, TN, to visit Nana. It was cramped, had no heat, and we nearly drove my Mom crazy getting there, but we GOT THERE, safe and sound. I loved that car. It got the job done.
In North America, the Occupy Movement talked about being “The 99%” here (and in Canada, of all places). While they had some good ideas, I would love to see some of those people take a ride through a South American favela or two (GIGANTIC slum cities made out of GARBAGE) like I have. Running water is a LUXURY in the favelas. When the Occupiers saw how the REAL 99% lives, they would crap their britches with fear, run back home, shut their goddamned mouths about unequal wealth distribution, stop whining, and be happy that they are living in the lap of luxury.
America. It’s the land of luxury. Isn’t it about time we started paying for it?
(ps- yes, music will be a luxury item, and will be taxed out the wazoo. This, of course, will not affect the record industry at all, since no one except underground music fans actually buys music anymore anyways)
4. The President of the United States shall be paid minimum wage during his term in office.
Yes, that’s right, I WANT to take a huge pay cut and make minimum wage for my four glorious years. It won’t bother me one bit. I’m used to being broke.
I have not always been the jet-setting, chart-topping, international heavy metal super-star bazillionaire that I am today. I am a man of humble origins, coming from a lower-middle class/upper lower class (depending on how you look at it) family. All the members of my family worked for a living, we had no rich relatives, and money was something you EARNED because it wasn’t going to come from anywhere else. Our house was big enough for us but there wasn’t much room to spare-I shared a bedroom with my brother Mark until I was a senior in high school. None of us grew up wearing the latest duds. I wore my cousin’s hand-me-downs, which my younger brothers wore after I outgrew them. I certainly did not grow up impoverished-I never went hungry, I had enough warm (if kinda bo-bo) clothes, and my educational and health needs were never neglected. It was a good life.
For YEARS after I left home, I supported myself, living on minimum wage or even less at times. It was hard to hold down a steady, well paying job after a while because my band was constantly leaving town to go on yet another tour that didn’t make us any money. I picked up cook and dishwashing shifts from restaurants where I knew people, I did construction jobs, I cleaned friends’ yards and gutters, I did whatever I needed to to do to get by. I didn’t have any money in the bank, hell, I didn’t even have a bank account, but I was pretty happy- I was doing what I did (the band) because I loved it, it felt right to me, and who needs a whole pile of money anyway?
It is only in the last few years that I have entered the realm of the filthy rich, living a hedonistic life of rock-star excess you normal people cannot not even imagine the magnitude of. The cars, the women, the clothes- it’s really all too much sometimes, but I clearly somehow manage to handle it with amazing humility and grace. I’ve come a long way from those second-hand Tuffskins and bo-bo shoes, and while I am undeniably one of the best-dressed men alive, I haven’t for one second forgotten where I came from. And I’m not afraid to go back there.
Once I’m elected President, every single penny I own will immediately be seized by the IRS and go straight towards the deficit. I will be financially WIPED OUT. Done. Finito. Broke as Hell. I will start from ZERO. This will make my wife pretty unhappy, but she’s a good woman who has seen me through many of the stupidest of my ideas, so this shouldn’t really faze her much at all. We’ll get by.
I will be paid minimum wage, with up to 20 hours a week over-time. I know I’ll be working a lot more overtime than that, and the pay rate won’t exactly be fair, but hey- life ain’t fair for a lot of people struggling to get by, and they sure as fuck don’t live for free at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Why should it be anymore posh for the President? My rent and grub will be provided for, what else do I really need? (oh yeah, my first order of business once I’m up in the big house will be to have the White House chef fired immediately. I’ll hire some unemployed women I know from the trailer parks of RVA and Isle of White County- nepotism, I know, but while I’m The Big Cheese the White House is going White Trash- food costs will go down, I’ll save tax payers dollars, and those annoying snooty French delegates won’t come over for dinner) I’m not gonna be the Head Honcho because of a paycheck. Your Commander-in-Chief should be in office for one reason, and ONE REASON ONLY:
He believes he can serve the American people better than any other man out there, and feels an unstoppable drive to do so. I do believe that, and I have that drive. Why in the Hell else would I want to be President? It’s a huge pain in the ass. Being broke is the LEAST of my worries.
Besides, to quote The Gipper (that’s Ronald Reagan for those of you too young to remember the horror show that was the 1980’s):
”Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book.”
I’ve nearly written a book with this damn blog post. The rest should be a breeze.
5. Stop importing every goddamned thing and make it here.
America is a nation with plenty of room, resources, and man-power. I don’t think we really need to import so much crap when people need jobs to put dinner on the table. Yet we buy tons of goods from other countries. Goods that we could produce here, thereby providing jobs and keeping the money in our own economy. Here’s just one example.
As mind-numbingly astounding as it is to me, America actually imports firewood from other countries. Here’s just a few countries we buy firewood from: Estonia, Honduras, Mexico, Canada, Japan, Sweden, Switzerland, and yes, that’s right, CHINA. As of November 2011, China owned 1.13 trillion dollars, or 23.8% of all the scratch we have borrowed from foreign countries.
We owe China almost TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT of our total foreign debt and WE ARE BUYING STICKS TO BURN FROM THEM.
Am I the only one who notices this stuff? Am I taking crazy pills, or does something seem a little off here?
Nothing against any of the countries I listed as importers of firewood- I’ve actually been to most of them for business (including China), and I had a great time. Lovely people. I’m sure their wood is great for roasting marshmellos But I can burn American wood in my fireplace, thank you very much. It works just fine.
My head almost exploded a few months ago when I saw highly priced firewood from Estonia for sale in front of my local grocery store. I was pacing back and forth in front of the Kroger, sputtering and emitting strange screeches of rage that scared the living bejesus out of the Salvation Army bell-ringing volunteer trying to raise money for the needy. If that’s not a hair-raising snapshot of what’s wrong with America, I don’t know what is: A frightened little lady in a Christmas sweater begging for spare change so American families can have something to eat RIGHT NEXT to puny bundles of future ashes imported from the Baltic while a muttering tattooed dreadlocked future Presidential candidate has a full-on melt-down right there in front of God and everyone at the Kroger.
America, we are importing a naturally renewable resource. We don’t even have to make it. IT GROWS HERE ON ITS OWN for Pete’s sake. This is just plain STUPID. Let’s chop our own damn wood.
Oh, and while we’re at it, we could manufacture anything else we really need, right here in our own country. ANYTHING.
Think about it.
6. Re-instill the work ethic in America’s youth, ALL of America’s youth, and give them a fuckin’ job.
Speaking of chopping wood, I grew up with a maul in my hand. My brothers and I went into the woods every year with my old man while he chainsawed downed trees into split-able pieces. We busted that oak up, threw it in the back of my Uncle Larry’s pick up, carried it home, dodged the logs as my old man threw them off the truck with no regard for our safety whatsoever, and stacked it NEATLY by the house (the old man always liked to say : “You can tell a lot about a man by the way he stacks his wood pile”). We did this in the cold, in the rain, in the snow, on weekdays and on weekends. If we complained (which we did) the old man told us to shut up, paid a little more attention, and threw those logs harder and closer towards our heads.
Why did we do this? A) because the old man told us to, and he didn’t put up with any lip, unlike these pussy-ass “parents” today, and B) WE WANTED TO STAY WARM. No firewood split and stacked for the wood stove? No frickin’ heat in the house. My father, who has the bloodstream of an Eskimo, does not need heat. The wood was for us. So my brothers and I WORKED for our heat. I started helping my Dad and Grandma out on her farm when we moved there right after the 3rd Grade. Whining, complaining, Facebook, or Call of Duty 2 did not get corn picked or butter beans shelled for the dinner table, wood split for the stove, or a new coat of paint on the house. OUR WORK DID.
I wish my 91 year old Grandma could run a bootcamp on how to be a decent human being for America’s youth, ALL of America’s youth, rich, middle class, and poor. The work ethic I see so little of would come back, and come back with the quickness, or you can bet your last dollar that would be your ass. You would hear a whole lot more “Yes, ma’am’s” and “Yes, sir’s” rather than this “I don’t want to’s”. When I see an adult pleading with a six-year to behave in public, I shake my head in amazement. That shit didn’t fly in the Blythe household, and it won’t fly under the Blythe administration.
Our child labor laws are far too soft…on children. Make those little fuckers work for their food and housing. I did. And I’m a better man for it.
Sorry kids, the economy is crashing. The free ride is coming to an end. Mommy and Daddy’s bank accounts are running dry. Play time is OVER. And since 99.99999% of you are never gonna become NFL players, big-time Hollywood hotshots, or rockstars (ok, maybe I’m not the one who should be telling you this, but fuck it, it’s true), you might as well get off your lazy asses and start contributing.
There’s plenty of shit everywhere that needs to be done. I’ll be starting Uncle Randy’s Mandatory Youth Job Corps as soon as I hit DC, so get ready kiddos. It’s about time you earned your keep.
7. Mercilessly annihilate big money tax shelters like watching Fox News annihilates brain cells.
I’m sure you’re all familiar with the saying “The rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer’. This is certainly true here in America, where people like Mitt Romney, who makes most of his money from investments, can take advantage of an incredibly fucked up and unfair tax structure that allows the rich to use loop holes to pay a lower tax rate than the average American.
Romney just happened to close his Swiss bank account in 2010, the year he announced his candidacy. He also recently disclosed his earnings and tax rate in order to do some damage control after his refusal to do so got him smacked around by Newt Gingrich in the South Carolina primary. In 2010, Romney made almost 22 million dollars while paying less than 14% in taxes. This is less than what most middle-class Americans get billed. Why? Because most of this cash was earned off of investments, which are taxed at a substantially lower rate than regular income.
In other words, if you have enough money to sit on your ass and pay a financial advisor play the Wall Street Game for you rather than washing dishes, swinging a hammer, teaching elementary school students, or grinding away in your cubicle, you get a tax break. You get richer with no actual labor involved, and you owe the IRS less. I don’t know about you, but as a man who has washed dishes and swung a hammer to make rent, this pisses me the fuck off. In my current job as a heavy metal singer, I make good money from traveling around the world and screaming my ass off. But at least I sweat like a goddamned maniac while I do it. And I can assure you, I don’t get Romney’s tax rate.
This screwy tax code is hurting our economy in a bad way. People should be allowed to make a lot of money if they earn it- there is nothing wrong with seeing a return on hard work. But they should pay the same in taxes as the rest of us. These laws were put into place by members of the elite old boy’s network to protect their interests and their interests alone under the guise of supply side/trickle down economics. This insane theory states that the more money rich people have, the more money they can put into the economy, thereby “trickling down’ to the rest of us and benefitting everyone. Supposedly by letting the rich get richer by paying less in taxes they will suddenly feel generous enough to share that excess wealth and stimulate the economy by creating more jobs with fair pay rates.
This is the craziest thing I have ever heard of. The rich are rich precisely because they HOLD ON TO THEIR MONEY. Don’t let Romney’s half-assed explanations of his charitable donations fool you- a few million to a charity here and there is nothing more than the cost of doing business to him.
As POTUS, I will assemble a crack team of heavily-armed, genius-level ninja auditors and tax lawyers who will go through the nation’s economic elite’s bank accounts and tax records like my band goes through a case of Miller Lite by noon on a day off in Kenosha, Wisconsin. The tax code needs an immediate overhaul. This shit has got to stop.
I don’t hate rich people. I know some who are pretty damn cool. But I want them to pay fair taxes. Why should the wealthy get huge tax breaks while the average working man is seized by a tourettes-like cursing spree at the very mention of the letters “I”, “R”, and “S”? They shouldn’t. And under the Blythe administration, El Jefe will make damn sure that while they are laying on the sand in whatever tropical paradise they are vacationing, they won’t be sitting in a Gucci beach chair paid for with tax-free dollars.
8. Once I have balanced the budget, the deficit is gone, and we have a surplus of just one American dollar, Washington DC will IMMEDIATELY be renamed “Fat City” in honor of one of my spiritual forefathers.
This isn’t really part of my plan per se, but since I’ll be making minimum wage while resurrecting America’s economy and saving us from this dreadful fiscal goat-fuck, I’ll deserve a cookie. BECAUSE I WILL HAVE WORKED FOR IT. Fat City, here I come!
So there ya have it. Like it or lump it, America WILL reverse our course, our economy WILL grow like a beer gut at a NASCAR race, and anyone so inclined WILL be able to make it rain whenever they want at the local titty bar.
I know my economic policy is going to be a hard sell, and it will have its detractors. I’m sure my fool-proof plan for economic excellence won’t be so popular. In fact, my candidacy itself probably isn’t so popular with some people. Since neither President Obama, Mitt Romney, Newt or any of those other chicken-shit motherfuckers have answered my invitations to either A) debate the issues, or B) jello wrestle (to quote the almighty Ric Flair “You wanna BE the man, you gotta BEAT the man! Woooooooo!!!”), and since the current American political arena seems to require vicious mud slinging as its most vital component rather than actually discussing issues, I will briefly take on and crush the only people I can think of who might oppose me: heavy metal fans who are tired of hearing about me running for President.
After announcing my bid for POTUS, folks let me know that it had been picked up as a news item by a lot of the music (especially metal) related websites. Finally! A REAL NEWS STORY, instead of bullshit like “In an astoundingly long and rambling display of profanity-laced pure INTERNET FURY, D. Randall Blythe has angrily tweeted that he doesn’t really care for the latest hot trend in heavy metal: plaid-print guitar picks! That long-winded egomaniacal self-righteous narcissist has lost his cool AND and his mind for sure this time!”
Yes, those music cyber-media moguls have finally gotten caught up to speed as to what constitutes an honest-to-God news-worthy story about your’s truly. As soon as my candidacy hit the metal cyber-grapevine, I got a TON of positive feedback in my Twitter feed along the lines of “I read on rippinassmetalbrotherhood.com that your running for the Presidency! You got my vote!” SO THANK YOU SO MUCH to all the websites out there spreading the word, the Chatterlips.net’s and and PCP.com’s and all the rest. You are truly doing The Lord’s work. To my fans and supporters out there in heavy metal cyberspace (well, any that I have left after the whole “canceling Christmas” thing): Y’all are making this happen! We shall overcome! Kumbaya, Hallelujah, and pass the cheese grits and the hot sauce please!!!
But if things are running par for the course with ol’ D. Randall, I’m sure at least SOME readers of those sites are whining and complaining away about my Presidential campaign, wishing I would just shut up and make heavy metal records like I’m supposed to or go jump off a cliff or something. And I’m sure this small but vocal minority of CVLT frumps express those feelings in their usual eloquent terms. To these people, my TINY group of critics (numbering, I’m sure, in the low teens), I now give a blanket response in language that even they can understand:
To spit some ghetto wisdom your way: don’t hate the player, hate the game. It’s not my fault my grind is stronger than yours. It’s not my fault I’m more driven than you. It’s not my fault I’m smarter, funnier, and more successful than you (not to mention MUCH better looking. Because I damn sure am a PRETTY man). It’s not my fault my undeniably super-model like visage is splashed all over the internet when ever I fart into my cell phone these days. It’s not my fault you are a willing, passive receptacle for an easily avoided experience.
When you see my name on a screen, JUST DON’T CLICK THE LINK. Or better yet, (gasp!) turn off your computer. Have a meaningful conversation about something of SUBSTANCE with someone, IN PERSON. Don’t worry, you can practice with your dog or your cat first. Act, don’t just REACT. Do something. Do ANYTHING. Make some onion rings. Go outside. Take a walk. Start your own band. Start your own blog, don’t just lurk around on someone else’s website and whine like a little bitch. RUN FOR PRESIDENT YOUR OWN DAMN SELF. C’mon, you can do it! Run, Forrest, ruuuuunnnn….
To the rest of y’all with half a brain that are picking up what I’m putting down: I know all this might seem kinda harsh (or crazy), but we are neck-deep in doo-doo right now. Something has GOT TO BE DONE. We can’t sit around blaming everyone else for the mess we created when we bought into the big, fat, comfortable LIE. While I promise to lead us out of this clusterfuck and into financial solvency, I need your help. I need to see everyone take some initiative. It won’t be easy or comfortable, but what other choice do we really have? America is falling apart, ya feel me? I NEED YOUR VOTE.
When President Obama was campaigning, he had this cute little catchphrase: “Yes, we can.” It seemed like every other sentence he was telling us what we COULD do. That was a nice heartwarming bit of wistful thinking, now wasn’t it? I hate to bring this up, but guess what? WE DIDN’T. I wasn’t naive enough to buy into it then, and I’m not now. “Yes, we can” MY ASS. We are WAAAAAAY past that sissy bullshit, so put this in your pipe and smoke it:
“Yes, motherfuckers, like it or not, YOU WILL.”
I know it’s gonna sting a little at first, but remember, America: I’m only doing this for your own good.
I’m a baller, son. So this is gonna hurt me a lot worse than it’s gonna hurt you.
Thank you for your support, and God Bless America.
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Here's a few things you should know about about me:
1. I'm 40 years old as of 2/21/2011.
2. I'm happily married to an awesome woman.
3. Sometimes I live Richmond, VA. Sometimes I live all
over the globe. I ALWAYS reside in Randonesia.
4. I really like: books, hunting & fishing, skateboarding,
punk fucking rock (the music & the way of life- true
til DEATH!), comic books, guns, knives
whips (basically any sort of killing weapon), good coffee, & non-alcoholic St. Pauili Girl or Becks
5. I am a sober alcoholic. I don't drink or drug anymore
because it was killing me. Everybody else, by all
means, PLEASE- have a drink on me.
6. I sing for a metal band called lamb of god.
7. I say exactly what I want, when I want to. If you don't
like it, don't read this blog. I don't care if I hurt your
feelings- I speak what only what I regard as the truth,
and nothing else.
8. I tend to disregard conventional grammar & spelling
at times, not because I am ignorant in such matters,
but because this a fucking blog, not my attempt to
win the Pulitzer. When I get paid to write, I let editors
fix the details. Here, I try not to worry about it much.
9. I do not tolerate racism, religious intolerance, homo-
phobia, dogmatic political posturing, sexism, class
restrictions, or just general idiocy/assholeness from
ANYONE, OF ANY SEX, CREED, OR COLOR, nor should
you. That being said, I am definitely not politically
correct, so if it's a joke- get over yourself.
10. I do not give a fuck.
11. I am actually a nice, warm-hearted, generous,
articulate Southern Male with impeccable manners. If
ya see me on the street, come say hello!