The Republicans Are Just Mean Spirited

I am remembering my dad telling me in the Reagan years how mean spirited the Republicans were. It went in one ear and kinda out the other, after all, I was a young teen when he was first elected.

All these years later, I understand what he meant. You mean to tell me, they want to derail this economy, middle class people, and add to the every-growing unemployment rate over a few dollars, a very small percentage of an overall stimulus bill because they want more money for the top cats that put us in this trouble in the first place?

To quote the gentle lady senator from my state, Senator Claire McCaskill, "I'm mad!" This is just craziness and partisanship, like the kids on the playground who want to take their ball and go home but want to tear down the basketball hoop so the rest of the kids can't play either.

I am taking names and will definitely vote them out, look out Senator Kit Bond in 2010, even if you were once an ok-governor back-in-the-day. Not supporting this stimulus tells me, a constituent of the Showme State, that you don't give a rip about the everyday people who live in St. Louis. Perhaps because you are cloistured up in your office in upscale Clayton that you and others that have millions to spare think it is ok to cut the things your party listed as irresponsible to the bill. So, tell me how eliminating or cutting food stamps is helpful? Because you can't get more tax cuts for the mansion-dwellers on Lindell or along Argonne Avenue? What about the people in the bungalows?

The following is the article from Huffington Post and note the highlighted portion at the bottom. This on the day that it was announced this morning that the January unemployment rate jumped to 7.6% or about 598,000 jobs cut, this brings the growing total to over 2.4 million people out-of-work. And for what, so the Republicans can have some more champagne aboard their private jet munching on cavier on their way to the South of France? Give me a break!

Total Reductions: $80 billion

Eliminations:

Head Start, Education for the Disadvantaged, School improvement, Child Nutrition, Firefighters, Transportation Security Administration, Coast Guard, Prisons, COPS Hiring, Violence Against Women, NASA, NSF, Western Area Power Administration, CDC, Food Stamps

*****************************

Reductions:

Public Transit $3.4 billion, School Construction $60 billion

*****************************

Increases:

Defense operations and procurement, STAG Grants, Brownfields, Additional transportation funding

*****************************

Nelson spokesperson Clay Westrope confirms the authenticity of the memo, adding that the figures obviously could change. But this is currently the general direction.

As you can see the amount being cut appears to have fallen, to a total of $80 billion, though Westrope says the actual number is closer to $100 billion. Also, it appears some of those cuts are being maintained even as defense funds appear to be getting added.

Head Start? Food Stamps? School Nutrition? Violence Against Women? This just proves the GOP are some heartless, soulless sacks of skin. I’m calling and faxing as much as possible.

Hannah's Song

We came together last night and sang Hannah's song. Family from California was in town, it was the night before Aunt Hannah's Home Going Celebration. We met at my house late in the evening to fellowship, remember, hug, eat, and laugh. Thom felt the love in the room and I'm sure his mom would've appreciated us doing what she did all her life - love. Aunt Hannah was a gracious woman. Her gentle spirit, sparkling eyes, and constant smile will be remembered. She has left us physically, but never spiritually. The laughter was like music in Thom's ear. For the first time in weeks I saw my cousin relax. He has been in a tornado for the past four weeks from his mother's diagnosis to her death. Even in her final stage, Aunt Hannah was granted her desire. She asked to not suffer long when it was her time to go, she had been a caregiver her whole life and I'm sure her prayer was for her son. In the last days of her life, she still greeted well wishers with a wa...

Brothers, Can we Talk?

I'm a Black woman, born of a Black woman and a Black man. When my mother died, it was my father who nurtured me and instilled in me a sense of pride of self, of my race, of my abilities to do whatever I put my mind to do. He never imposed limitations on me as a Black woman. The only caution he ever gave me was to not burn my candle at both ends and to be mindful of my health, I am an asthmatic. He never stopped me from trying anything and always encouraged me. Daddy was a strong Black man who introduced me to Shirley Chisholm when I was a little girl. He reminded me of the fortitude of my late mother's quest for gender equality in the workplace and of the namesake who marched at Selma. He is the one who gave me my pseudonym, Tayé. Daddy was a strong tower of empowerment and fought all the way to his last breath for social, gender, and racial justice. It is in remembering my father this morning that I'm asking the brothers, can we talk? What is it, especially those of my g...

Ashes to Ashes

This is Ash Wednesday. For a lot of Catholics and Anglican Christians, it begins the holy season of Lent. We remember we are but dust and to dust we return, ashes to ashes. It is a somber reminder of our humanity and the finality of life. We are a mere breath. Today, as a Hospital Chaplain Resident, I am imposing ashes on patients, family, and staff. It is a visible marker of a shared faith and belief. We look with anticipation to the finished work of salvation on the cross and in eager hope of the resurrection. As my day progressed, I noticed how much hope was in the eyes of the ones giving and receiving this reminder of our existence. It was both a somber moment and a joyful moment. Two things can exist at the same time. Like the world we find ourselves in. Even as it seems like the darkest, certainly the darkest I’ve known in my six decades on this earth. Completely imperfect as a nation, there was still a glimmer of light until the nightmare became reality. We wonder abo...

The Musings of a Latte Queen: Narratives of Everyday Life

Search This Blog