Down On A Brand New Day

Last week, one of my favorite relatives - I have lots of favorites for different reasons, don't anyone get bent out of shape - sent out an email blast rant. He was frustrated. I could hear the frustration. In essence he said: if he had to get drug-tested to get a paycheck, why shouldn't welfare recipients be drug-tested to get assistance and sit on their asses? Didn't I agree? Wasn't that a great idea?

I had so many different problems with this scenario it was hard to know where to begin. Let's enjoy the Dead Kennedys during this musical interlude while I see red and continue counting to TEN GODDAMN THOUSAND.

Before I can deal with anything else, I have to quit twitching and say this one thing: my interest in peace, and economic and environmental justice is not a passing fucking phase. Anyone who doesn't know that doesn't know a goddamn thing about me, blood relation or no. It boggles my mind that anyone thinks I'd enthusiastically "Hear! Hear!" an oh so whimsical, thoughtlessly invasive plan to punish poor people for being poor.

So. Now that my bruised ego has an ice pack, I've got a new subject to research and write about and you get more music. Let's not talk, okay? Let's just dance.

I'll be coherent again presently. This isn't about Me, Me, Me. Essays and footnotes will follow.