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We Shall _ _ _ _ _ _ _ At The River

mad-libsT
o begin with, I'm a Texas boy, born and bred. So when Beloved Girlfriend's mother passed away back in 2003 I got to travel to Michigan and behold first-hand the awe and inconvenient spectacle of a proper Polish funeral.

First, there's the viewing. Three solid, head-smacking days of open-casket fun as you watch the hours, and your life, tick by as you wait patiently to greet family and friends unable to make it while the body was still warm.

After hoary tradition has been served the funeral itself shifted locale literally across the street to one of Hamtramck's finest gothic cathedrals, the highlight of which was the fresh-from-Warsaw apprentice priest's haranguing of the assembled mourners for not coming to frickin' church more often. ("It is YOU I am lookink at, AnnMarie!") What the building lacked in modern amenities, like heat in the midst of a raging Lower-Michigan ice-storm, it made up in hulking pomposity.

Then it was off to the cemetery where the nuclear family met to, I dunno, admire the coffin one more time before finally escaping to a local beer hall, whereupon the gathered host commenced to dull their collective sorrow by stuffing themselves insensate with regional dainties and exotic foamy liquids deep into the evening hours. There was much weeping, not to mention the occasional fist-fight, before everyone staggered into the humid night air with only their memories, and bouts of gastric distress, to comfort them.

Now that's a funeral.

I share this charming tale with you because I am, frankly, incensed at the vague imitation of a funeral my recently-departed sister received as we ushered her remains off this mortal coil on Monday.

I call it "The #3 Special".

It goes like this: You rent an edifice that offers modest religious overtones, plenty of stained glass but no figures of torture victims hung from cross-beams, just roomy enough to hold those friends and family fortunate enough to get off work for an hour. Once the doors are closed they begin the service not with the majestic swell of hymns written by the great masters but by the not quite as majestic sound of a couple of the deceased's favorite country-and-western pop tunes piped-in through a marginal sound system.

Then the "pastor" comes out and begins the eulogy, obviously reading from a glorified version of Mad-Libs, that wacky fill-in-the-blank game. It was excruciating listening to this guy laboriously pinball from date-of-birth to date-of-death to place-of-birth to names-of-children before running out of room on the form. Along the way he managed to mispronounce my sister's name and announced that she loved "croquet" rather than "to crochet".

Since this minimalist approach took him all but 90 seconds he cleverly repeated himself and then filled in the next five minutes by narrating several random pages of Biblical scripture. I honestly have no idea what he was talking about and, by the minimal amount of interest he exhibited, I rather doubt he did either.

Then it was one last round of vaguely uplifting MOR treacle as we were invited to amble on up to the front and pay our last respects to the deceased. Five minutes later it was all over.

I've had lunches at Whataburger that lasted longer and had more dignity.

So this is just a warning to my family. The next time one of you happens to wander in front of a bus and takes a premature E Ticket to Paradise I'm personally taking control of the eulogy. This includes the music and whatever minimal connection you have with your creator, you old sinners, you. There will be jokes, there will be bad karaoke, there will be puppets and uproarious retelling of exemplary deeds, which I will be happy to fabricate in your honor. It may be sloppy, it may be embarrassing, especially if you haven't yet reincarnated and are looking down at us from your particular Valhalla, but you will be celebrated and you will be remembered. Properly.

As for me, if I go first, do your worst. Just none of that shit-kicker crapploa.

=Lefty=


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Republican Job Creation Update

john boehner"We're going to have a relentless focus on creating jobs." - John Boehner, February 10, 2011.

The following is #103 in a list of Republican job creation activities since they gained control of the House in 2011. None, sad to say, have yet to result in one, single new job.

(103) 11-2-2011: According to the AP the Republican jobs plan would create no jobs.

So what does the GOP spend the day doing? They voted to reaffirm that "In God We Trust" is the national motto, just in case someone missed the point that they no longer give a crap about doing anything useful.

NOTE: As a result of an unexpected wave of enthusiasm the Republican Job Creation update now has its own web site. It will remain on the RP but a web site of its own will raise its visibility on the 'net as we progress towards the critical 2012 elections. And I thank you for your support.

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Dump Fox News

Fox News Lies!And what manner of lie is Fox News spewing today? Dick Morris takes money from Herman Cain in the morning, defends him on Fox at night.

Click here to help Drop Fox from your cable system.


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If you enjoy Raging Pencils, might I also recommend:
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Mike's Video Vault

Graham Chapman's eulogy.


Raging Pencils is an refined conceit of:

Mike Stanfill, Private Hand
Mike Stanfill, Private Hand
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Today's Google Chow.

Billy: Ms. Ungulate?

Teacher: Yes, Billy.

Billy: If God can do anything why didn't He just build a time machine and go back and stop Eve from eating the apple?
Teacher: It's probably because... well, you see...

Billy: Could it be that he’s really just a sadistic control freak employing the apple as a sort of deus ex machina, enabling him to later drown millions of innocent people, allow his own son be tortured to death, and finally watch the world expire in a fiery apocalypse?

Teacher: Look, what would say if I just admit that the Bible has about as much credibility at the 9-11 Report and we get back to fractions?

Billy: Oddly enough, I'd say that you just insulted the Bible.