Feline Warrior

There’s nothing, really, with the suicide theme, to be honest. I mean, there’s a thing, but then again, there’s not. It’s a wee thing if it’s a thing at all. {Forgive me, Professor D, for using “thing” so many times!}

You are wondering, “How do suicide and GW Bush relate to each other?” Well, there are many answers to that question. Or at least two that come to mind right now. One answer –the obvious one– is that one wishes, at times, that she were a Kevorkian niece. You know, some family ties can really pay off (just ask Dubya), and having a professional in the mix might be handy. And why die a slow and painful death under the Bush administration when Uncle Jack could send me to my maker in just a few drowsy moments?

{By the way, even though I am speaking of Dr. Kevorkian in a semi-humorous tone, I truly do admire him and believe in the work he did. Some day, when you are old enough to hear it, I will tell you my own Kevorkian story.}

So there’s that connection between suicide and Bush. And now that I think about it, having Dubya in charge of things around here is almost like assisted suicide, anyway. If you’re not a rich, white guy, that is. If you are a rich white guy, then you’re probably pretty stinkin’ happy right now and wish that someone would send me to my maker. To that I say, “WhatEVER!” {Note Valley Girl tone}

Another connection might be this: throughout our relatively short history, fine American folks have been taking off for other countries to avoid putting up with some of the crap that goes on around here. From James Baldwin and Gertrude Stein to Johnny Depp and a zillion others, people have said, “I’m not gonna take this anymore! Let’s head to France, where it’s more relaxed and the coffee is better.” So then the message, hidden though it may be, is that anyone sticking around is asking for it and basically signing up for a suicide mission.

These are just some of my thoughts on how the suicide-Bush connection might be made. Frankly, I just really liked the title, “ups and downs of suicide (burning bush)” and so I went with it. Sometimes a title is just a title, eh?

And no, I am not planning to take off for France or anywhere else. I have cats and it would be an enormous pain in the ass to have them quarantined for however long they make you do that. They’d be miserable and I’d be miserable, and our combined misery would chafe the buzzes of thousands of French people. I have too much stuff to be switching countries at this point in life. Visits, yes. Long-term or permanent moves, no. It is best for some of the discontented to stick around and yammer and holler and wave signs about in the air and blog and write essays and letters and shake their fists. Someone’s got to do it, right? Right.

Finally… and this is really away from the suicide-Bush thing… I do not hate my country. No. There are those who might interpret my words and actions as hatred, but they would be wrong. Those people don’t like anyone who thinks differently about, well, just about everything or anything! There are many events and policies that really stink, and that’s my opinion and even the opinion of many others. There are also many good events and policies, and far more than “many” good people, and so we hang on to those in order to maintain and build a better US. (That could be read as “US” as in “we,” or as “US” as in United States” - take your pick.)

Not agreeing with the government is hardly a new phenomenon. It’s always happened and it’s happening now. So snap out of it and listen up!