Art of the Union

Welcome to Art of the Union’s very first installment of “Hack of the Week.” Our first ever hack of the week award goes to the president of Americans for Tax Reform — Grover Norquist. On Monday, May 21, Norquist equated actions taken to combat tax evasion to Nazism.

Norquist was referring to the “Ex-Patriot Act,” introduced by Sen. Chuck Schumer after Facebook co-founder Eduardo Saverin dodged $67 million in taxes by renouncing his American citizenship. To Norquist, requiring someone to pay their taxes warrants the same kind of insults that a student would scrawl on a bathroom stall about a math teacher who gives homework on weekends. When asked for a follow up comment Norquist responded that “Schumer was no longer invited to his slumber party,” and closed with a very forceful “nana-nana booboo.”

With a rally cry of “Get ‘em, girls!”  a young Mitt Romney and his Quaffed Hair-tettes held perceived homosexual John Lauber to the ground and forcibly cut the boys hair off. Romney kept with the tried and true tradition of Type A personality bullies expressing themselves in the most homo erotic ways possible. 

Apparently if you really wanted to teach someone a lesson in the 1960’s you’d serve them up a man sandwich with a side order of hair cut, perm optional. If you particularly didn’t care for your target, it was straight to a good ol’ fashioned nail painting and Gilmore Girls session. All of this done just in time to make it back to Romney’s super manly, not gay at all, extra-carricular activity — cheerleading practice. It takes a true rugged sportsman to cartwheel and rhyme for an uninterested crowd.

An over-priviledged tough guy being in reaching distance of the white house is not surprising as bully culture seems to be the only pervasive culture present on Capitol Hill. 1980’s teen villains roam the congressional halls. Where once legislation was passed, nipple twisters reign supreme. I can picture it now, Eric Cantor cruises the halls in his T-bird as Mitch McConnell pantses Harry Reid while Jon Kyl chants “Get ‘em a body bag!” News coming out of Washington DC reads less like political dialogue and more like a 1986 WWF In Your House highlight reel. It would not be shocking in the least if a candidates re-election slogan was “Wedgies for Liberals,” or even more straight forward, “O’Doyle Rules!”

It would be fine if our representatives saw fit to direct their aggression toward each other, but unfortunately us as citizens also get to feel the brunt of their bullying. “Don’t Say Gay” legislation through out the country act as a legislative wet willy to any citizen that does not share old world American values. The legislation takes direct aim at the homosexual community, doing their best to make them not feel comfortable in their own skin. 

Missouri’s “Don’t Say Gay Bill” would put an end to discussion of sexual orientation in Missouri public schools. The text of the bill states that any clubs that revolve around LGBT issues would not be allowed, while simultaneously ending fundraisers for students that have been bullied for their sexual orientation. A similar bill had been introduced in Tennessee, but has since been abandoned.

In the United States we have a tendency to want to skip straight to fighting and conflict over civilized discussion. Some would rather attach a stigma to things they don’t understand or clash with what they find familiar. Join the military and you’re a hero. Join the Peace corps and you’re a hippie. Buy an oversized, useless, gas-guzzling pick-up truck and you’re a rugged man. Buy a hybrid car and you’re gay. Suffer through a loveless marriage  and you’re a good American. Unconditionally love your same-sex partner and you are a heathen. 

Mitt Romney laughing off allegations that he assaulted a fellow classmate for his sexual preference is a-ok, because it fits in with the national ideology of demonizing what you don’t understand. It’s hard to enhance our standing as a country and reinforce our future when politicians are only concerned with turning “Mean Girls” into a political documentary.

The Popeye Doyle of his own Mexican Connection, Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona has taken it upon himself to be the right hand of justice in the fight against illegal immigration. Unfortunately for him, that right hand is about to be wrung by the U.S. Justice Department. The Obama administration has announced that it plans to sue Arpaio and his department over civil rights violations for its actions taken towards the Latino community.

Essentially, the stance Sheriff Arpaio has taken towards combating illegal immigration is pretty simple. Don’t be brown. If a stereotype of your ethnicity has ever been portrayed in a cartoon enjoying beans and rice, you will most likely be seeing a jail cell in Maricopa County.  Allegations brought against Arpaio and his deputies include jailing a hispanic driver for 13 days because he did not use a turn signal, officers intentionally striking Latino’s with their patrol cars, and punishing hispanic inmates for speaking Spanish. It won’t take much to catch Arpaio’s attention either. Immigration patrols have been launched from such minor instances as groups of dark skinned people in one area. Things have gotten so bad that the U.S. Justice Department has saught an agreement that would “require the sheriff’s office teach officers on how to make constitutional traffic stops.” That’s right, Arpaio’s deputies need to be taught the essentials that even the cast of Police Academy grasped.

Arpaio’s crusade against the non-American made isn’t just the least favorite gift that a Latino could receive. Arpaio is re-gifting his hate all the way to the top, announcing his investigation into the legitimacy of President Obama’s birth certificate. Upon hearing the news, President Obama replied “who?” and then eye-rolled so hard that he suffered whiplash. Arpaio claims that President Obama’s birth certificate and selective service cards have been fabricated. Apparently aside from being a 79 year old racist, Arpaio can add forensic scientist to his resume. Too bad he can’t add multi-tasking to his resume, because Arpaio’s department has decided to forgo hundreds of neglected sex case crimes to investigate the Pesident. Arpaio is so convinced of the forgery that he has accused the Republican Presidential nominees of being in on the conspiracy. The investigation of the president’s birth certificate was spurned at the request of 250 Arizona tea partiers. This begs to question what if we investigated everything that the tea party didn’t trust? Bio-duels and mom’s who don’t wear spandex waist jeans would never be the same again.

Sheriff Arpaio is just a small part of a bigger problem that is immigration policy in Arizona. Hotly contested immigration law SB 1070 would turn The Grand Canyon state into an ethnic profilers paradise. The law would make it a crime to not carry immigration papers at all times while requiring officers to detain anyone they suspect is in the country illegally. In Arizona, being tall, dark, and handsome will only land you a date with a courtroom. It’s so worrisome that Mexico has issued a travel advisory to any of its citizens crossing the border, effectively turning Arizona into the eastern Iran.

As hispanic populations rise across the United States, many Americans have chosen to combat it in a search for some imagined nationalism. Instead of embracing new cultures and working towards a sensible solution, we have enacted a modern day witch hunt for anyone who may have a relative named Juan. Where once the United States was a beacon of hope for the down-trodden, we have since become no country for brown men.

Recently I’ve had this odd sensation burning in the pit of my stomach. A dark, ominous cloud lurking above my head. It is foreign, almost parasitic in nature. It won’t be denied. I have developed a sympathy for my Republican colleagues. Before we get carried away, I should clarify that it has nothing to do with their views or policies. Unfortunately for them I am still a liberal on that front. Where we find ourselves common ground, is that I am a liberal unsure of who my presidential candidate is. 

If the recent Iowa Caucus proved anything, it was that the only thing sure is that Republicans are unsure. Mitt Romney flip-flopped for first with Rick Santorum in a joke that writes itself while Ron Paul Jim-Crowed himself into a close third spot and Gingrich left first place to be serviced by fourth in the back of a Chrysler Concorde. Completely opposite from last week. On the opposite side of the ideological coin, I’m non too comfortable about voting for Obama to conservative it up for four more years while flying the false flag as a progressive.

Not to be completely dismayed, I’ve found tempering by looking beyond the wrinkly skin congregation of the debate stage. Beating pavement and using social networking sites as a soapbox is where you will find former Louisiana Governor Buddy Roemer. A former Democrat turned Republican who first charmed me on The Daily Show, Roemer doesn’t waste his southern twang extolling cheap talking points and towing party lines in favor of telling it like it is and like it should be.

Roemer certainly has the pedigree to lead. Aside from being a former governor, he also served as a congressman and his business ventures should make him a private sector hero. Naturally I don’t agree with all of policies, such as nuclear energy support, advocating gay marriage as a state right instead of making it a national right, or his refusal to retweet me (hint hint). 

Fortunately, his pros far outweigh his cons and consequently put him far above his GOP competitors. Unlike Romney, he made his profits on proper business practices instead of layoffs. A true darkhorse candidate, who unlike Paul, won’t write an essay warning about the darkness of said horse. A man of conviction, who unlike Santorum, isn’t a creepy dark-age zealot.

It’s the tone of Roemer’s campaign that sets him apart. Completely absent are venomous attacks to the gay community, generic gouging of government social programs, or double-bass drum bible thumping. You won’t find him trolling the country in a faux-symbolic pickup truck while an emotionally vapid wife waves an American flag in the back.

No, Roemer forgoes the nationalistic clowning to speak to the true issues affecting this country. Running on an anti-corruption platform, Roemer constantly speaks to the dangers of a political system flooded with special interest money. Backing up his anti-SuperPAC words he has instituted a $100 campaign contribution limit. He speaks to the foolishness of free trade over fair trade. He is one of the only people speaking the true downfalls of Obamacare, not the contrived stance that it is an unpaid for job killer. Rather, that it is packed full of benefits for insurance companies and big pharma. Roemer does not mince his words when it comes to representing the people and that’s what makes him so appealing.

This is also the crux of my problem, though. In politics, loose lips do indeed sink ships. Roemer’s boisterous support of campaign finance reform and donation cap limit has made him invisible to the debate stage. As high as my hopes are that he can get into the debates, the reality that weighs on my back tells me he will have to run as a third party. The question then becomes do you follow your heart and vote for your passionate but ultimately doomed candidate or vote for the lesser of evils? The thought of Nadering Obama out of office for four years of Romney has me leaning lesser of evils.

And this is my inevitable version of every artists year in review. As a political artist I was blessed with a ludicrous news cycle that kept me busy all year. Everything from a do-nothing congress, millionaires acting like they’re one foot in the door to a soup kitchen, men with phallic surnames embracing their love for the erotic arts, to presidential candidates whose ideas would be very much at home wreaking in the bottom of an elephant cage.

The holidays have had me abnormally busy with rush freelance projects and sending out resumes before everyone departs the workplace. With this, I have not been able to draw or write anything new. So, as always this means one thing: A TRIP TO THE ARCHIVES! I did this drawing for The Los Angeles Times during the BP oil spill in the Gulf. The gist of the article was about how President Obama must take the lead on ensuring new energy for the future.

I should be able to use the holiday break to get some new art and writing done, and hopefully after the holidays I will finally end my unemployment and bolster my creativity without the dark cloud of the job market over my head. Until then though, happy holidays!

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Minimum Wage raises on fire off the shoulder of Capitol Hill. I’ve watched pepperoni pizzas glitter in the dark near Omaha, Nebraska. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to suspend.”

And like that, Herman Cain has ended his bid for the Oval Office. With questionable grace and a severely embarrassed spouse, the Republican blaxploitation film that was the Cain campaign ended Saturday. Complete with exuberant wardrobe and outsider attitude, “Black Almond” crashed into town taking no prisoners. With an all strength/no humility attitude, Cain shook up the establishment with the same fury that he typically reserves for women’s skirts. And then, with a bright and misinformed future ahead of him, his campaign came undone quicker than his zipper.

Make no mistake about it, Herman Cain was a fame hungry circus clown. But, what he lacked as a politician he made up for in being a comedic genius. It would not surprise me if it were to come out that the Cain campaign was a Chuckles Hut improvisational bit that got carried away. The Women for Cain stock photo, Chile model, and that great knee slapper of a campaign commercial. The only candidate to go the student film route for his campaign. I’m sure on the cutting room floor lies the scene where a girl has milk poured on her by a weeping mime. Cain will surely take these skills with him to a new career, as Americans love nothing more than hearing blowhard fools make noises with their mouths.

You see, Herman Cain is the definition of what is wrong with politics today. A political landscape that allows campaign platforms to be built on shit instead of soil and still flourish. A place where sexual harassment charges are on par with electoral votes. You can know nothing, but a well-crafted lie to your base will satisfy them just fine. We live in a time where being able to say I’m an outsider is enough to gain the trust of the masses. 

I’m sorry, but I want a politician to run for president. I believe that our system started going downhill when the “outsiders” started campaigning for office, not for the people, but to rig the system for the benefit of their elite associates. Cain may have not been a politician, but he was a lobbyist and a serial womanizer. I would trade all the Gingrichs, Bachmanns, and Cains for just one more Kennedy, Roosevelt, or Eisenhower. It would be in the United States best interest to decipher the difference between not trusting in the short term and being fooled for the long term.