Meet the New Year - Same as the Old Year?:
And so the Rude Pundit brought in the new year in a ramshackle bar in Red State America, dancing rollicking rhythm and blues to the band, led by the old black musicians, but supported by the young white ones, drinking beer and checkin' out the women in spaghetti strap t-shirts and tight jeans, wanting to break a bottle over the head of a misplaced noodle dancing guy in the crowd who tried to sing over the gruff voice of the old man at the piano, embracing friends when the clock passed midnight, the band not stopping to even acknowledge the moment, one year blending seamlessly into the next to a wicked sexualized "Tutti-Frutti," brought back to its juke joint origins about gettin' some "good booty."

The Rude Parents just attended the funeral of the son of a close friend, a soldier cut in two by an RPG outside Baghdad. He was on his third tour of duty. He had married a year before, between tours. The funeral home was packed, they said. People talked about how he loved the children in Iraq, giving them candy and befriending them. In another city, in Blue State America, just a day before, the Rude Pundit passed by an Italian grocery that was closed because, as the sign on the door indicated, "Our son was killed in action in Afghanistan on 12/25/06. We do not know when we will open again." Today, the Rude Pundit will attend a party with an Iraq war vet who vehemently supports the President.

We begin 2007 cautiously optimistic because of the Democratic majority in Congress, but with unending lies guiding our journey into the dark heart of desert darkness, the Rude Pundit wonders if we are merely hoping for bandages when we need transplants for our American organs.

Red state, blue state; by the time it's said and done we may all have purple hearts.