My Parents, Michael Savage and the Neutron Bomb
About an hour and 35 minutes ago my dad was listening to Michael Savage to day bashing Janet Napolitano for the TSA’s sexual molestation of passengers, and giving genuine laughs, but then Michael said that he “craved arguments” and loved them, and my dad became silent, because he deeply hates it when I argue with him, to the point where he goes into a rage at times, but ironically, Michael then said he also wanted arguments even during a holiday, at the dinner table, and that came close to describing my dad, since though he hates it when I argue, he will do thing just before or as I eat that he knows might cause an argument, in other words, will try and start one. I know, it makes no sense, but that is how anti-Christians are. My parents are anti-social. My dad obsesses on politics and money, and is against socialists and my mom obsesses on appearances and “success”, and is very shallow when it comes to politics and religion, with a hatred for religion. In her mind, success is owning what she personally thinks is beautiful and valuable, or temporarily managing them, like an owner of a prosperous antique shop who for a while owns things of value in the shop, but later sells them. But it wouldn’t matter however if I were to have that “success”, unless I were to give her whatever it was she wanted that I owned, because she is cold.
Eventually, Savage began to talk about an autobiography titled, “Shame” written by the inventor of the neutron bomb, Sam Cohen, and my dad laughed about how Michael said that in his book the author said that his mom was a nut, a clean freak, and would give him enemas after school whenever he came back from school, and my dad laughed about that, but it seemed weaker then the other laughs, because it was somewhat describing my mom and dad, and said that the author had invented the neutron bomb to cause people to go through what he did, to have the same sick feelings. Then Savage joked about how Napolitano was like someone with a baton and would say, “No backtalk,” and then my dad gave a fake laugh as he headed for the garage, almost a snicker. It was very uncomfortable because over the past few days while I’ve been with my parents, he would repeatedly with anger say to me, “No backtalk” even when I just began to ask a question after having asked if I could ask one, and would say it forcefully. I had even said to him the day before, “can you not call every question I ask ‘backtalk’?” And most fitting was that Michael had been saying at that time that the Jewish liberals who were supporting Obama were like Nazis in love with the oppression they escaped: my dad is racially a Jew, biased in favor of Israel’s right to brutalize the Palestinians (and even the Bedouins of the Negev who were forced out), but is also a liberal, opposed to Christianity.
I hope to be away from them soon, and they have an even greater desire to get me away even sooner.