Intravenous Caffeine

Totally Unfair and Completely Unbalanced

Oh, Wayne, You’re SO Pre-dick-table…

Wayne LaPierre escapes from a straitjacket

Wayne LaPierre addresses Houston NRA members on why more guns would have helped Bostonians protect themselves against unknown bombers. (From a file photo)

(IVCAFF News) Wayne LaPierre addressed members of the Houston NRA on Saturday, sparking the usual liberal controversy, but generating cries of “Remember the Alamo” accompanied by six-gun shots fired into the air.

“I was inspired by last week’s piece in Intravenous Caffeine. What else could better protect you against unknown bombing suspects who’d probably already left the scene? If I were in Boston, I’d put my faith in my trusty Peacemaker to make sure that no suspicious characters approached or fled from me.

“Police lockdown? Northerners cowering in fear! How would you know that that knock on the door was a real Boston policeman unless you had your piece by your side to make sure you could return fire. How would you defend yourself from marauding bands of looters climbing into your windows? That’s what “stand your ground laws” were made for. Of course, Bostonians would have felt more secure with more guns!”

After the meeting, LaPierre was assisted back into his straitjacket by attendants before being driven by ambulance back to the facility.

NOTE TO STEPHEN COLBERT:
Dear Stephen, this is Greg. I know you’re talking about me, I’ve heard you on your program. I let it go the first time, but now it’s just too much. Do I have to say it again? It’s over. Over. Must I get that restraining order?
Yours alwaysnever again,
Greg

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All you really need is heart…

Dick Cheney wakes up in the hospital to discover a side effect of his transplant--he's suddenly developed a "heart"

"You've got to have heart..."

Two stories of note this week: the shooting of Trayvon Martin–which actually occurred a month ago today–and Dick Cheney’s new bundle of joy. I’ve always found myself to have a reluctance to draw cartoons about things that are sad. Things that make me angry on the other hand are fair game. And the shooting of Trayvon Martin makes me sad. But the reaction of the Fox News types is worth derision.

On one hand, you have Geraldo Rivera admonishing the dead kid about wearing a hoodie because it looks too “gangsta.” And then you have New Gringrich admonishing the President about noticing the kid was black. No two ways, Fox, it’s either racist or it ain’t. Add to this the “stand your ground” fans backing up shooter Zimmerman saying that he was only doing his job–self-appointed and told by the 911 operator not to pursue–and you start to wonder if their heads are in so far, will these guys ever see daylight again?

Fortunately, Melissa Harris-Perry took care of Geraldo, and the electorate looks like it will be taking care of Newt. And Paul Krugman reveals the truth about American Legislative Exchange Council, the corporate shills behind the “stand your ground” laws.

Which leaves us Dick Cheney. The sight of all the people wishing him well with prayers for a speedy recovery—including those who’ve accused him of being a war-profiteer, a war criminal, and responsible for the sinking of the US reputation to historic lows by ‘OK’ing tortures the Japanese were hanged for after WWII—warms my heart. This is the mark of a civil society. We do live by the Golden Rule: Do not do unto the previous Administration as you would not have the next Administration do unto you.

Now a churlish man would be making comments about Mr. Cheney’s heart transplant like “Where’d they find one that small?” Or, “This one is perfect, Igor, MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Or, “Wow, the old one really was made of stone–this will fetch a high price on EBAY!” But we won’t do so. Instead, we’ve decided to honor Mr. Cheney with some verses of a song:

Dick had to have heart,
Cheney really needed heart.
They kept saying that you didn’t have one.
But here’s one for a fresh start!

You never lost hope,
When they kept on saying nope,
Like with those weapons that could never be found,
Those visions were sound, your critics dopes.

Don’t you think of Halliburton,
And the profits from the war,
You will only feel some hurtin’,
And who knows what you’d outpour
to an enhanced interrogation!

So pick up the phone,
And when you hear the dial tone,
Tell your friend that you are sorry you graced
with buckshot his face,
it wasn’t smart,
Now you’ve finally got heart.

No applause please, the patient is convalescing.

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