Stuffed Bears and Such.

     So here we find ourselves yet again, friends and neighbors, on what is possibly the most grudgingly observed of holidays, with so many significant others running around trying to find some stuffed sort of fauna or collection of prearranged flora that will appropriately make up for the other 364 days of the year in which partners are taken for granted. It is indeed a time for "love," and if I could further emphasize the quote marks on that, perhaps capitalize them or something, you'd best believe I would. I, being unattached and thus with plenty of free time on this day, have decided to sit down and expound on something that isn't this day. I am, in fact, going in quite the opposite direction, as I intend to bring to your awareness a few people that seem to have made it their business to not deserve any of the aforementioned flora and fauna of love this year.
     Don't worry though (because I'm sure you were,) it'll still be fun. Now let's get to it!
     We begin, as we must, with Billy Ray Cyrus. I know, no one likes to begin with him, or finish with him, or put him somewhere in the middle. Unfortunately for us though, we must, because I already wrote it. Ol' Billy Ray, much to the world's mortification, has re-released his claim to fame, this time as a rap song.
     Just marinate on the concept for a second, and then we'll move along.
     Okay, onward.
      Now granted, it wasn't his idea, this gem instead being the brainchild of rapper Buck 22, but still. It happened, and there's a video, and ultimately the blame remains with Billy Ray, or as I like to call him, William Raymond. This is so because not only did he approve, he even appears in the video, getting beamed aboard a spaceship in order to party with the space ladies, who are dressed about like you would think. Not that I watched it, oh no. No no. I just read about it, I swear. Believe me, that's plenty, in my book.
     And before anyone starts harping on me about judging something before I actually put myself through it, take another second and think on it, wont' you? It's "Achy Breaky Heart" as a rap song, with William Raymond Cyrus at a party on a spaceship. I can't even force myself to watch that on an ironic level, and if you can, I think it may be time for you to shave your handlebar mustache, trade in your thick black framed glasses, and let this fad of only doing things for the sake of irony be done. Remember, we all eventually become the thing we mock most. And you do not want to be William Raymond ( I don't even know why, but that 'William Raymond' thing really gives me the chuckles.)
     Moving on.
     Next we've gotta talk about Drake, even though I really wish we didn't, but I picked this topic, so I guess I'm stuck with it. This fellow has done us all the favor of complaining vociferously about how he was booted from the cover of Rolling Stone, despite having given an interview and everything, which he claims he will never do again (oh how, oh how, oh how will we go on.) The reason Drake lost out on his coveted cover?
     Philip Seymour Hoffman died, and Rolling Stone put him on the cover instead, to go with a memorial article. Drake confessed to being "disgusted" with this turn of events, and declared the press to be evil.
     Though he did say, in that same tweet, "All respect due." and "R.I.P." So, you know, everything's okay, right? Boy, I sure do hope poor Drake has someone to help him through these times of tragedy and adversity. Maybe he'll use this pain, so wrongly inflicted on him, to fuel his next album, since he's at least alive to make one.
     And finally, because I always save my favorite piece of candy in the box for last, is the always entertaining and obviously honorable Senator Rand Paul, who has earned his spot here because of an article I read entitled "Rand Paul Leads Attack on Hilary Over Lewinsky Affair." In it, Senator Paul says that Democrats should return any money raised on their behalf by Bill Clinton, in order to protest the affair he had back before everyone had a cell phone. Otherwise, claiming to be the party of women's rights would be hypocritical. Because of his affair. I do like how this kind of highlights that Republicans don't make that claim themselves. This way they can keep any money raised by their adulterers without pretense, since they don't have any strong claims involving marriage.
     But that, as silly and desperate as it is, is really just another political attack, sure to be washed in the deluge as things ramp up for 2016. What's especially, jarringly, glaringly interesting here is that through a number of pieces of correspondence between Hilary and her then best friend, Diane Blair, the Honorable Senator of Kentucky and his equally distinguished colleagues are trying to paint Hilary as a ruthless and too politically ambitious human being.
     Talk about  hypocritical.
     The examples they're using, based on what I read, include things like Hilary making derogatory statements about Lewinsky, as well as taking some measure of enjoyment in the fact that at the time of the affair, it really irked some of her enemies that she and Bill didn't make any problems his affair caused their marriage a big crazy public spectacle. This apparently makes her cold and emotionless, because as we all know thanks to reality television, the only way a real person would behave when confronted with infidelity is to make the biggest scene possible, in order to get viewers.
     My disdain for Senator Paul after reading this article has grown immensely, to the point where instead of making a final joke about what a miserable and self destructive political maneuver this was, I'm just going to put a another quote from Hilary's correspondence used in this article:
     "I'm a proud woman." "I'm not stupid." I know I should do more to suck up to the press, and I know it confuses people when I change my hairdos. I know I should pretend not to have any opinions. But I'm just going to."
     Now that deserves some fluffy fauna and prearranged colorful flora, right there.
-John