Tag Archives: Glenn Beck

Miss Whitt-Wellington Goes to Washington

29 Oct

Advance apologies for my upcoming absence. I am traveling to Washington DC this weekend.

The first reason for my trip is to attend the Rally to Restore Sanity (or to Keep Fear Alive, depending on my mood). After reading about the crazies who have been gathering in our nation’s capital, like bloody snot after a blow to the nose, I wanted to check in with the saner Americans I know are the backbone of the country. (I forgive the rest of England for being unaware of this fact; it makes sense given the fact that in the UK, being anti-American is seen as both “big” and “clever.” After all, even our dear Auntie tolerates, nay celebrates, it.)

Jon Stewart’s rally is being held to help restore a little sanity to the country. It’s there to remind us that it’s not only those with big, fat mouths and stupid ideas who count; those of us who know how to use indoor voices and our critical thinking skills deserve to be heard as well. Thousands of Americans will be taking to the National Mall to make a point on a variety of issues—national, political as well as “other.”

Note: I’m impressed with the creativity and true commitment displayed in the signs many attendees have prepared for the event. However, I have a number of harsh words for the brainbox who made this one:

My second reason for visiting is to cast my vote in the November election. Just because it’s not about the presidency doesn’t mean this election isn’t important. Alas, I cannot be sure that my absentee ballot would be fairly counted after recent years’ debacles so I’m afraid I’ve got to make the trip over.  Attention all Americans living in Britain: do the morally right thing and catch a quick transatlantic flight so you too can participate—remember, voting in America is a privilege not a right, and if you’re privileged, your vote matters even more. Yes, doing so may add almost 300 tonnes of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, but if you care about our world, you’ll make the sacrifice. (Luckily, I’m flying by private jet which, according to Sting, actually helps the environment.)

Christopher has never been to Washington DC, so I’ll also be taking out a little time from my busy schedule of shaping America’s political landscape to show him a few of the sights. Actually, I’d love to stop by the DC Zoo to see the area where I first became a woman; I know Christopher would like to get some photos there.

Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone. And to any would-be burglars: don’t get smart. Although Christopher and I will be away, the house will not be empty. I’ve arranged for my dear friend Alice Wintergarden to stay here: she may be small but she does pack heat. (Her house, on the other hand, will be vacant, though keep in mind her taste in jewellery is appalling.)

Christopher informs me that this is our one hundredth post on Everyone Needs An Algonquin. Thank you to the fans who have been there since the beginning—while we cherish all of you, the truth is your first loves always hold a special place in your heart (sometimes lodging themselves dangerously near the aortic opening). Happy 100th to us all.

A Quick Note to Those Not Interested in Football

19 Jun

Unlike those who complained about my multiple posts on the election, those of you not particularly interested in football are forgiven. It’s only a game, after all, and we all are allowed our own personal preferences when it comes to what sports we enjoy. If you prefer cricket or baseball, that’s fine. Please pardon the rash of football-related posts, but, to me, World Cup football is magical. Maybe less so for you. You’re not alone.

You may also just find reading the posts too painful to read. That’s okay, too; it’s so very English of you.

If you’re one of those people for whom these posts aggravate your Irritable Bowel Syndrome, I beg your pardon. There’s only a few weeks left (please knock wood now).

However, I do find some of the anti-football rants by Americans upsetting. G Gordon Liddy said he thinks it originated with “South American Indians [who] instead of a ball used the head, the decapitated head, of an enemy” while he was on the phone to Dan Gainor, who said “soccer is a poor man’s or poor woman’s sport” being sold as part of the “browning of America.” And Glenn Beck, ever the clever one: “Barack Obama’s policies are the World Cup—It doesn’t matter how you try to sell it to us, it doesn’t matter how many celebrities you get, it doesn’t matter how many bars open early, it doesn’t matter how many beer commercials they run, we don’t want the World Cup, we don’t like the World Cup, we don’t like soccer, we want nothing to do with it. The rest of the world likes Barack Obama’s policies, we do not.”

Of them, I’m slightly less forgiving.