Wackadoos, Unite!

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Word on the street is that 212 Memorial Hospital workers will be pimped out snaking through traffic as buck-a-shot jiffy windshield cleaners amidst that parking lot we call Hwy. 101 in downtown Santa Rosa.

These hospital workers are already fully immersed in career transition classes. They'll be taught to act like non-English speaking campesinos newly squeezed Norte as a billion tons of subsidized Iowa corn bankrupt their farms in Mexico. But never mind, as we settle into the stability oligarchy affords, we no longer need compare skilled to unskilled, blue to white collar, or service sector to financial industry grunts. We're all underpaid debtors, high on Soma and flatulent national platitudes.

In fact, contrary to accepted wish-dom, many of our oligarchs turn out to be foreign nationals. Meanwhile, look for those randy Blue Dogs & DLC types to be licking Repugnican business butts all the way to Dubai and Abu Dhabbi. They've made theirs. Time to move to somewhere with decent medical care and year-round indoor snow skiing—some heavenly place where panhandlers get their limbs removed and holy gospels are printed in dollars and cents. Or Euros and Yen.

I've had the opportunity to peruse the Memorial Hospital retraining syllabus. It's a good one. A consortium of health insurers and drug firms have joined together in providing one spiffy, all-gloss manual to help these 212 schlubs through their anxieties and anguish. After all, that's what health care deniers (oops—I mean providers!) and drug firms do. Help others.P. Joseph Potocki

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