Surely, when your party talks about “sharing the pain” you don’t mean that as a one-way offer. It would only be fair if we share our respective pain with one another, right?
So you’ll know what to expect, I will describe my pain. It isn’t something I enjoy doing, but I think you deserve to know what you're in for.
If I sleep more than five straight hours (almost impossible these days), I wake with my eyelids stuck to my eyeballs, stiff joints and sometimes dislocated hips and/or shoulders if I accidentally roll over during the night. The eyes are more bothersome than painful, but a dislocated hip can be excruciatingly painful if the muscles have reacted. It will probably disgust you to know that I don’t brush my teeth right away, because there’s less chance of my jaw or wrist dislocating if I wait an hour or so. I hope you can deal with the dry mouth that long.
The fun part about sharing my pain, though, is that it changes so frequently that there is never a dull moment. I can start a project with an aching wrist and finish it feeling as though my knee is separating or my neck might break from the weight of my head. Dull aches fill some days while others are mostly electrical shock sensations. Increased eye pressure will make me completely forget that my left arm is numb or that my skin is so fragile it hurts for my hair to brush my cheek. If you’ve never had a Charlie horse in your neck, your breast, or your chest, or a flared intercostal nerve, I’m afraid you are in for a huge surprise. And if you haven’t fallen flat on the floor because you didn’t know your knee or hip was out when you tried to stand, you haven’t lived the wild life. Better buckle your seatbelt!
But something tells me this isn’t the pain you had in mind. So, I promise I will carry half the heartbreak of turning over your fortune to pay for that stupid war you started and, in return, I will only ask that you suffer an hour or two of wondering how we’ll survive if the social security check is cut and the Medicare deductible raised. We can split wondering how to pay the utility bills even-Steven but I’ll carry the brunt of the aches that accompany living in this cold, drafty place. Don’t thank me because I’m not that nice; I simply don’t think you are strong enough to endure as much as I do.
So far, I think I’ve been extremely fair. However, about that “cancer” you are trying to inflict on my grandchildren – it all changes here. You did say that increasing the deficit is a cancer to our children and grandchildren, and now you are holding our government hostage until we allow you to inflict a HUGE $700 billion cancer on our children and grandchildren. (I assume you mean mine since I haven’t heard anything about your children and grandchildren.) I refuse to share your guilt for that. I have pleaded with you for years not to hurt my grandchildren so you get to carry this one on your own.
I could have done more to warn my fellow Kentuckians about you. I could have campaigned harder for your opponents. But those children were not involved; they did not get a vote, and there was nothing they could have done to protect themselves from you. Guilt isn’t something I do well and considering the rest of my pain and my willingness to share yours, I deserve this break from your guilt.
I will also claim an exemption from the burn of the blood that is on your hands now, as well as what is to come. You do know, don’t you, that the decisions you are making now will cost lives. Closer lives – not lives of strangers in foreign countries that don’t seem real – people right here in your city and state will die because you want them to. Others will want to die because of the life you have forced them into by thinking that protecting your tax break is more important than their lives. That will be a heavy load, Senator McConnell, that the people who voted for you will have to help you with. Not me. My clear conscience is not negotiable.
Please let me know when you plan to hand over your fortune to pay off your war. I need time to prepare for sharing that pain with you and I’ll want to order balloons and noisemakers.
Since you continue to shirk your responsibilities and embarrass us by not hanging around to hear what others have to say, I'm bringing this to you:
And I ask that you respond to Sen. Mary L. Landrieu's question about how Democrats were supposed to negotiate with you after you've said repeatedly that your top priority is to see President Obama defeated in 2012.
Sincerely,
Sandy
So you’ll know what to expect, I will describe my pain. It isn’t something I enjoy doing, but I think you deserve to know what you're in for.
If I sleep more than five straight hours (almost impossible these days), I wake with my eyelids stuck to my eyeballs, stiff joints and sometimes dislocated hips and/or shoulders if I accidentally roll over during the night. The eyes are more bothersome than painful, but a dislocated hip can be excruciatingly painful if the muscles have reacted. It will probably disgust you to know that I don’t brush my teeth right away, because there’s less chance of my jaw or wrist dislocating if I wait an hour or so. I hope you can deal with the dry mouth that long.
The fun part about sharing my pain, though, is that it changes so frequently that there is never a dull moment. I can start a project with an aching wrist and finish it feeling as though my knee is separating or my neck might break from the weight of my head. Dull aches fill some days while others are mostly electrical shock sensations. Increased eye pressure will make me completely forget that my left arm is numb or that my skin is so fragile it hurts for my hair to brush my cheek. If you’ve never had a Charlie horse in your neck, your breast, or your chest, or a flared intercostal nerve, I’m afraid you are in for a huge surprise. And if you haven’t fallen flat on the floor because you didn’t know your knee or hip was out when you tried to stand, you haven’t lived the wild life. Better buckle your seatbelt!
But something tells me this isn’t the pain you had in mind. So, I promise I will carry half the heartbreak of turning over your fortune to pay for that stupid war you started and, in return, I will only ask that you suffer an hour or two of wondering how we’ll survive if the social security check is cut and the Medicare deductible raised. We can split wondering how to pay the utility bills even-Steven but I’ll carry the brunt of the aches that accompany living in this cold, drafty place. Don’t thank me because I’m not that nice; I simply don’t think you are strong enough to endure as much as I do.
So far, I think I’ve been extremely fair. However, about that “cancer” you are trying to inflict on my grandchildren – it all changes here. You did say that increasing the deficit is a cancer to our children and grandchildren, and now you are holding our government hostage until we allow you to inflict a HUGE $700 billion cancer on our children and grandchildren. (I assume you mean mine since I haven’t heard anything about your children and grandchildren.) I refuse to share your guilt for that. I have pleaded with you for years not to hurt my grandchildren so you get to carry this one on your own.
I could have done more to warn my fellow Kentuckians about you. I could have campaigned harder for your opponents. But those children were not involved; they did not get a vote, and there was nothing they could have done to protect themselves from you. Guilt isn’t something I do well and considering the rest of my pain and my willingness to share yours, I deserve this break from your guilt.
I will also claim an exemption from the burn of the blood that is on your hands now, as well as what is to come. You do know, don’t you, that the decisions you are making now will cost lives. Closer lives – not lives of strangers in foreign countries that don’t seem real – people right here in your city and state will die because you want them to. Others will want to die because of the life you have forced them into by thinking that protecting your tax break is more important than their lives. That will be a heavy load, Senator McConnell, that the people who voted for you will have to help you with. Not me. My clear conscience is not negotiable.
Please let me know when you plan to hand over your fortune to pay off your war. I need time to prepare for sharing that pain with you and I’ll want to order balloons and noisemakers.
Since you continue to shirk your responsibilities and embarrass us by not hanging around to hear what others have to say, I'm bringing this to you:
And I ask that you respond to Sen. Mary L. Landrieu's question about how Democrats were supposed to negotiate with you after you've said repeatedly that your top priority is to see President Obama defeated in 2012.
Sincerely,
Sandy
No comments:
Post a Comment