VOLCANO PEOPLE

lightning_strikes_volcano

by Joe Buonfiglio

So, the angry guys took The Granite State.

As I write this, the most divergent presidential candidates on the opposite sides of the political spectrum — yet BOTH strangely tapping into the same anger and distrust of government saturating our highly polarized nation — have just swept the New Hampshire primary for their respective political parties.

How could this happen?

Easily. We’ve become the Volcano People; the resentment of our lot in life percolating a fury boiling in our souls beneath the surface of a faux normalcy is just waiting for traffic incident, domestic misstep, workplace occurrence or incendiary political pundit to trigger eruption.

In short, we’ve become a nation brimming full of perpetually livid sons-a bitches.

I, too, am not immune to rage’s clarion call. For as you will see, there are certain affronts that poke at the beast of my indignation and demand I pick up the gauntlet anger hath thrown down.

I AM ANGRY AT militant “buy local” enthusiasts. If I want to eat me some Argentine shrimp, I’m going to eat some goddamn Argentinian shrimp, so back the fuck off.

I AM ANGRY AT media propaganda machines posing as “news.” If the FCC labels my favorite zombie shows TV-MA because people surviving the apocalypse just might have a tendency to be a tad violent and drop the F-bomb, then they need to also protect my family’s fragile sensibilities from these political propaganda programs masquerading as news outlets by creating a “TV-PB” rating indicating Pure Bullshit.

Now THAT would be fair and balanced.

I AM ANGRY AT my cable company for not just raising my rates two or three times a year for the same old crappy service, but doing things such as not only inexplicably starting to charge me for the modem they gave me for free when I signed up (Is that even legal?), but also charging me for my cable-box remotes!

The remotes? Seriously?

I AM ANGRY AT Publishers Clearing House.

Fuck you.

No-no-no, don’t beg me for an explanation as to my ire toward you, you pricks. The state lottery takes what little money the poor have by playing on their hopes and dreams of lifting themselves out of poverty.  And then once all their money is gone, you step in to steal their time and last stamp while trying to hard sell them on shit they don’t need and can’t afford.

Hell, I take my “fuck you” back. You don’t even deserve the breath it takes for me to send it your way, you lowlife, evil son of a— Ooooooooo, is that a cast-iron model of the Hindenburg exploding?  And I can enter to win $5,000 a week for life when ordering?!

How can I say no? It’s all so … … … beautiful.

I AM ANGRY AT the whole damn state of Iowa for supporting the Iowa Corn Promotion Board and the Iowa Corn Growers Association that try to sell us on the idea that High-Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS) is somehow good for us.

An ear of corn for the family picnic is one thing. I’ll even give you ethanol, even though there are studies demonstrating that gasoline is so much cheaper to produce than ethanol, ironically, the farmers that grow the corn to make ethanol run their machinery and equipment on gas, not ethanol.  But High-Fructose Corn Syrup?  Shame on you.

Did I say “Shame on you”?

I meant fuck you, too. Fuck you and the processed foods ruining our families’ health you rode in on.

I AM ANGRY AT state fairs.

Cheeseburgers with Krispy Kreme doughnuts as buns? Deep-fried Oreos?  Deep-fried Snickers? DEEP-FRIED BUTTER?!

Do I even have to say it?

I AM ANGRY AT professional golf, pro bowling and the World Series of Poker. If the players don’t break a sweat while doing it, then it shouldn’t pull me away from mowing my lawn on a Saturday afternoon to watch it.  End of story!

I AM ANGRY AT inventors. It’s the 21st century! Why do I still have to clean my own toilet? Get up to speed on the whole self-cleaning shitter, please!  I’ve got better things to do with my time than to sanitize the family’s communal commode  … like watch cars go around and around and around and around and around and around on a NASCAR track while I swill beer until I’m so drunk that I pass out and shit myself atop some other guy who has passed out and shit himself.

I AM ANGRY AT God.

That’s right. I went there.

Kick us all out of the Garden of Eden into the fear-of-mortality-driven madness that is this world of chaos and pain? Really? THAT’S your plan?

And yes, I say “plan” as in You meant to do that. If You’re omniscient, all-knowing, then You KNEW Eve couldn’t resist the apple and Adam could resist a naked Eve even BEFORE You created them and explained the rules of the game to our fig leaf-clad ancestors, didn’t You?

Look, I don’t care if that’s all literal or biblical allegory; You’re supposed to be the Savior, not a sadist.

And finally, I AM ANGRY AT YOU!

Why?

Oh, you know why.

You know.

YOU. KNOW.

Asshole.

 

© 2016 Joseph P. Buonfiglio     All Rights Reserved.

Still haven’t seen the political-satire music video, “DONNY, DONNY, DONNY!” by Unintentional Martyrs™? Check it out on my YouTube Channel at:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2zVks-7nSI

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