This is one of the funniest things I have read in a long time and I wanted to share it with you. It was published in the LA Times Last week. Hope you are all doing well.

The GOP: divorced from reality

The Republican base is behaving like a guy who just got dumped by his wife.

By Bill Maher

April 24, 2009

If conservatives don't want to be seen as bitter people who cling to their guns and religion and anti-immigrant sentiments, they should stop being bitter and clinging to their guns, religion and anti-immigrant sentiments.

It's been a week now, and I still don't know what those "tea bag" protests were about. I saw signs protesting abortion, illegal immigrants, the bank bailout and that gay guy who's going to win "American Idol." But it wasn't tax day that made them crazy; it was election day. Because that's when Republicans became what they fear most: a minority.

The conservative base is absolutely apoplectic because, because ... well, nobody knows. They're mad as hell, and they're not going to take it anymore. Even though they're not quite sure what "it" is. But they know they're fed up with "it," and that "it" has got to stop.

Here are the big issues for normal people: the war, the economy, the environment, mending fences with our enemies and allies, and the rule of law.

And here's the list of Republican obsessions since President Obama took office: that his birth certificate is supposedly fake, he uses a teleprompter too much, he bowed to a Saudi guy, Europeans like him, he gives inappropriate gifts, his wife shamelessly flaunts her upper arms, and he shook hands with Hugo Chavez and slipped him the nuclear launch codes.

Do these sound like the concerns of a healthy, vibrant political party?

It's sad what's happened to the Republicans. They used to be the party of the big tent; now they're the party of the sideshow attraction, a socially awkward group of mostly white people who speak a language only they understand. Like Trekkies, but paranoid.

The GOP base is convinced that Obama is going to raise their taxes, which he just lowered. But, you say, "Bill, that's just the fringe of the Republican Party." No, it's not. The governor of Texas, Rick Perry, is not afraid to say publicly that thinking out loud about Texas seceding from the Union is appropriate considering that ... Obama wants to raise taxes 3% on 5% of the people? I'm not sure exactly what Perry's independent nation would look like, but I'm pretty sure it would be free of taxes and Planned Parenthood. And I would have to totally rethink my position on a border fence.

I know. It's not about what Obama's done. It's what he's planning. But you can't be sick and tired of something someone might do.


Republican Rep. Michele Bachmann of Minnesota recently said she fears that Obama will build "reeducation" camps to indoctrinate young people. But Obama hasn't made any moves toward taking anyone's guns, and with money as tight as it is, the last thing the president wants to do is run a camp where he has to shelter and feed a bunch of fat, angry white people.

Look, I get it, "real America." After an eight-year run of controlling the White House, Congress and the Supreme Court, this latest election has you feeling like a rejected husband. You've come home to find your things out on the front lawn -- or at least more things than you usually keep out on the front lawn. You're not ready to let go, but the country you love is moving on. And now you want to call it a whore and key its car.

That's what you are, the bitter divorced guy whose country has left him -- obsessing over it, haranguing it, blubbering one minute about how much you love it and vowing the next that if you cannot have it, nobody will.

But it's been almost 100 days, and your country is not coming back to you. She's found somebody new. And it's a black guy.

The healthy thing to do is to just get past it and learn to cherish the memories. You'll always have New Orleans and Abu Ghraib.

And if today's conservatives are insulted by this, because they feel they're better than the people who have the microphone in their party, then I say to them what I would say to moderate Muslims: Denounce your radicals. To paraphrase George W. Bush, either you're with them or you're embarrassed by them.

The thing that you people out of power have to remember is that the people in power are not secretly plotting against you. They don't need to. They already beat you in public.

Bill Maher is the host of HBO's "Real Time with Bill Maher."

Paris

Mussels, Fries, and a bottle of Sancerre.

People like to look at this thing.

Us, in Paris.

In front of the tower.

Arch de Triumph

The prospect of visiting Paris has been on our minds for a long time, the food, the wine, the ambiance. Kristin’s family permit visa has expired and she has submitted an application for a permanent residence card, so we had to get a renewal on the old visa once in Paris. When we actually arrived on Monday morning Kristin had an appointment to deliver her documents directly to the liaison company for the British Embassy, a great organization by the name of Worldbridge. This is a typical example of when the government tries to outsource a very vital service, that of awarding visa’s and visa information, to a company that will in turn outsource their call centers and “visa specialists” to an even less superior company which will also do the same thing. We thought that all we needed to do was present the pertinent documents, get the stamp, and after an hour or so we’d be sipping on a little Bordeaux and eating raw beef. In reality, we were confronted by the cluster-fuck that is Worldbridge. Imagine going to the DMV, combine that with the emergency room of King-Drew Medical Center at about 12:45 AM on a Saturday, and throw in the niceties of traffic court on any given weekday, this is Worldbridge. Now we had an appointment, all the proper documents, and reassurance from two, yes two, phone calls to Worldbridge at the cost of $14 each (each!) just to speak with a representative and make sure that we would not get stuck in Paris for nine or ten days instead of the planned three. They assured us that we would have priority since Kristin was already in the system and has already submitted her application for a permanent residence card. We also received a letter from the UK Border Agency telling us that if we traveled abroad before Kristin received her residence card (which could take a year or more), all we had to do was pop in to the nearest British Embassy and we would be given “priority.” They made it sound like we were picking up a loaf of bread and a six-pack, not applying for a visa. Needless to say, when we arrived at the Worldbridge building we were pleasantly surprised to find out that the actual application process could take between two and fourteen days. After a brief objection and proclamation of our “priority” status, the woman corrected herself to between two and fourteen working days. This only extended our quick three-day jaunt to Paris by a mere three weeks when you include the Easter Holiday. I proceeded to explain to the woman that we had train tickets for Wednesday evening; it has to be done by then. She just smiled and referred us to the website. I demanded to speak to a manager. When the manager came to the front I briefly explained the situation and she said she would call the Embassy to see what they could do. I looked at Kristin and shook my head as if to say, “see, all they needed was a little push, you should be more assertive in these situations.” The woman then came out and said, “I spoke with the embassy, and there is nothing we can do.” I then told her of our “priority” status again. I even had a trump card, the letter that the UK Border Agency sent us officially proclaiming our “priority” in a situation just like this. I looked at Kristin and said, “show her the letter” as if to say “check mate.” Kristin looked at me and said, “I didn’t bring the letter, it wasn’t on the list of documents that they needed.” The manager then looked at both of us and said in an annoyingly attractive French accent, “well that letter is very important in a situation like this, if we only had the letter.” At this point I realized that there was a very toxic combination in the room; the British bureaucracy of the visa application system, mixed with the French work ethic (not exactly the “go the extra mile” workforce) at one end, and the impatience and arrogance (Italian/American) of yours truly at the other. As my voice rose I proclaimed that we had called Worldbridge at the cost of fourteen US dollars and the “visa specialist” at the other end said that we would be able to get our visa. She said, “oh, well that’s just some call center in Hungary or Turkey or something, they don’t know what they’re talking about.” Now I was screaming, and Kristin was begging me to calm down as I was making matters worse. I yelled, “your company screwed up, so what are you going to do about it?” The reply was not exactly what I was expecting when she said very confidently and calmly, “nothing, I am going to do nothing.” In that sobering response a brief moment of humility overcame me, I was wrong and everyone else was right. That woman was right, the people at the call center in Hungary of Turkey or wherever it was didn’t know what they were talking about, Kristin was right, I was making things worse, and that woman was right again, she was going to do nothing for us. I looked at Kristin and we both accepted our newly bestowed refugee status. That was how our romantic getaway to Paris began.

Here is a link to the pics from Paris: Paris Photos