God’s Footstool

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, just got the news that the great Tom Petty is now learning to fly with angel wings at the same exact age as a certain gab-about who more than likely shows up on this back page of the Shepherd. I better sit back and relax, what the fock.

But first, I need to get ahold of O.J. now that he’s sprung from the hoosegow so’s that maybe he can help me find the Milwaukee lion that no one has discovered yet. I’ve heard he’s supposed to be good at that kind of thing, I kid you not.

And speaking of discovery, I found out that Columbus Day falls on Monday, Oct. 9 this year. Cripes, that day always gets moved around like it’s an Easter Sunday or something. I do enjoy the day, however, for the simple fact that I cannot receive any goddamn overdue bills in the mail, which then forces me to piss away a lot of time concocting the excuses for why I still can’t come up with the dough.

I also recently discovered that sanity in a state government is still possible in this day and rage. This, from Salon:

“…the Republican governor of Illinois, Bruce Rauner, just made a startling move in bucking the religious right. Thursday, Rauner signed a law written by Democratic legislators that allows the state’s insurance programs, including Medicaid, to cover abortion. It also ended the state’s ‘trigger law,’ which would have banned abortion if Roe v. Wade were ever overturned by the Supreme Court.”

Praise be. This kind of reminds me of a plank of my speech that I was ready to deliver at the 2016 Democratic National Convention in Phila-focking-delphia except I wasn’t invited. My speech was to go something like this:

“About this right-to-life argument that goes: ‘How can we do the condoning of abortion? Block the pregnancy from going the whole nine yards, and how do you know you aren’t denying the world the next Albert Einstein, the next Duke Snider, the next Clarence Birdseye?’ To that I say, what the fock. For argument’s sake, with the abortion, how do you know we’re not sparing the world the next Ivan the Terrible, the next Charlie focking Manson, the next Ryan Seacrest?

“And another thing everybody’s yelling about is the pinpoint time of when life gets out of the gates. Is it one month pregnant or three? After six weeks or two, or right off the bat at the conception reception? Just where the heck’s this line of the marcation anyways, ain’a?

“To argue right-to-life, you’d have to say ‘life’ begins even before the inception of the act of the womb inflation. It begins soon’s you get the nerve up at the cocktail lounge and say, ‘Howdy, good-looking, you come here often or would you rather come over by my place?’ If this member of a sex suggests a long walk off a short gangplank, I’d say we’d have a right-to-life violation.

“And think of the ramification of a right-to-life law here in our land of liberty. Any focking thing that would interfere or otherwise kibosh the mating ordeal of bodies together that would climax with life creation would be against that law. The word ‘no’ would be unlawful. There could be no more bar-time closings (in every cloud…). No contraceptives of any kind, including cold showers. Headaches—outlawed.

“Cripes, I can hear lawyers drooling even as I speak. A right-to-life law would increase their already legendary right-to-lucre. There’d have to be a courthouse on every block. Not doing the mating when called upon would be, judicially, murder; and murderers are capitally punished to death. Are you going to want to fry in the chair just for being too focking tired? I think not. Every man, woman and child who turned down the hootchie-cootchie would be cruising death row, and what kind of right-to-life would that be?

“Each and every one of us Americans would end up executed at some point in time. There’d be none of us left, and that’s just the kind of opening the world’s remaining Commies are looking for to march right in and set up their Red-herring shop here from sea to shining sea.

“In conclusion, about this pro-choice vs. no-choice: We got a focking law in this land to cover that subject. The law says something sort of like a ‘lady’s right to control the destiny of her own focking body, hey, focking A-OK.’ And that’s still backed up by the Supreme Court, as in the United States Supreme Court, Jack.

“So if these focking Bible-belting bozos and their ilk got a bug up their beatific butts about that, they’re welcome to leave the Amber Waves and go live in some focking country of women-hating religious nuts who put the woman on par with the dirt de la chattel of no-rights—and they’ll have a hundred-times more choice than they’re willing to allow their own fellow citizens. What the fock, I’ll even make travel arrangements courtesy of President Art Kumbalek, ’cause I’m, Art Kumbalek and I told you so.”