"Call your representative"
It’s damned depressing. Another day, another shooting, another plea to “call your representative” — and that’s where it gets ludicrous. I mean, come on! The guy couldn’t care less what I think about anything. But about guns? Get real! He’s all about the gunzzz, he even got in a bit of hot water for sleazing around the law in order to take his flag-draped assault rifle to DC; had his picture taken with another congressidjit posing in his office with it as though it was a thing of beauty and a joy forever. And his wife ran for the state senate, and when she got there the first thing she did (well, the first thing she bragged about, anyway) was to propose legislation that would return gun rights to some felons, because that was just such a ginormous burning issue for us, doncha know!
So yeah, I’ll call his office so his staffers can make the appropriate tick mark to provide feeble counterpoint to all the shotgunned star-spangled tea party tick marks. And then I’ll call the Senator who actually does care what I think, and his staffer and I will have an honest-to-gosh real conversation. And I’ll call and write notes to a couple of representatives from other districts who, like the Senator, have genuine interest in the concerns of residents of the state, and I’ll thank them for their hard work.
But I still wish I had a representative in Congress, which I don’t, and that just sucks.
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