Going to the Dogs

I find myself inundated with helplessness and anger (Could you tell from my video post yesterday???) over 1)the continued, blatant thievery from our public coffers by our elected officials, 2)the McCarthyesque tactics of Representative King’s House hearings on attempting to accuse an entire ethno-religious group, the Muslims, of extremist actions (all the while ignoring the much more widespread, dangerous existence of our own homegrown American terrorists with very easy access to gun ownership), 3)the efforts of the Governor of Wisconsin and his legislature to wipe out, in a legally questionable and highly manipulated vote, the collective bargaining rights of the citizens of that state, 4)the call for America to establish a no-fly zone in Libya thereby asserting ourselves, war-like and militarily, yet in a third country in the Middle East and 5)taking no similar, aggressive stance in other African nations whose women and children are subjected to horrendous acts of rape and murder because those nations have nothing we want, e.g. oil.

Thus, I feel the need to retreat from reality.  My outlet?  Doggiedom.  Try it.  You might like it.

So: if Charlie Sheen owned my dog, her name would be Castine Sheen.  Yeah, right.   Over my dead body.

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