Monologues of Dissent, an introduction

For the first few days of this madness, I called Scott Walker's office by phone, to register my many complaints about the disastrous budget bill he's proposed, and the shamefully undemocratic way he's trying to force it into law.  But when you call the Governor's office (at 608-266-1212), the phone is either busy, or rings for ages before someone answers, kind of rudely, and says "Are you for or against the bill?" Then, when you say "against, of course!" they say "thank you" (in a very rude way) and just hang up. So I figured they couldn't handle the volume of complaints and written comments would be more effective anyway.

So I started by writing to Scott Walker nearly every day in earnest, pleading with him, almost begging, really, as a fair-and open-minded constituent that he listen to our concerns, and take them seriously.  He didn't write back.  Not even an auto-reply.  I figured it was because everyone else was also writing passionate pleas and it was just taking his staff a long time to sort through them.  So I kept writing. But he didn't write back.

But I didn't stop writing, because I found it therapeutic, and it helped me go to sleep at night feeling like I'd done something, which, as everyone knows, is better than nothing.  He still didn't write back.  But as my letters became more brazen, less courteous, and more honest, I became aware that I was verging on the mania of a rhetorical anguish that really is too funny not to share. Maybe if Scott Walker doesn't want to read my letters, someone else can take a little joy in them, or at the very least commiserate with me over them, and appreciate what happens to a perfectly good person (me) when a total jackass of a man and the very definition of incompetence (Walker) intervenes into her social, personal and professional spheres and threatens to destroy her universe.

So here I am, creating a blog for lovers of justice and hyperbole to enjoy, and lovers of Scott Walker to seethe over (preferably in silence, as he seems to prefer), and to soothe my own worried mind. I hope they inspire some hateful letters of your own, which you can deliver to deaf ears yourselves by emailing can contact me at

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