Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Snapshot from November, 2007


Bush's annual, "Let's Wait Some More" speech.

Oh Great, it's fucking leftovers.

Again.


OK, I tried. I really tried.

I listened.

I listen to the slurry remarks, the mushy “s”’s, the broken English. The rolling out of the same, shitheaded delusionality.

The horny-3:00-a.m.-drunk-at-closing-time wet kiss on arch-fucknut and gen-ewe-ine war criminal Rummy’s dank lips.

The obviously-Rovesmithed phrases meant to be Reaganequely slipped into the deck, but that instead stood out in this tepid river of faintly Jim-Beam-smelling remarketed slush like orange owl pellets in a bowl of oatmeal.

And then I noticed that there was blood gouting out of my ears and had to stop.

So I read the transcript – or most of the transcript – until I felt blood welling of my tear ducts.

And I sat there stunned for the 100th time to realize that out there, in the Bid Stupid Dark, there are millions and million of homunculi who have been so criminally short-rationed in the IQ lottery, and have so massively overcompensated for their cognitive deficit by pigged out on pinhead theology or bone-stupid bigotry, that they lay there in the stink of their own filthy dogma watching the same Little Bus Puppet Show as I do and squeal, “Fuck Yeah Dubya! Kill ALL a’ Them Motherfuckers.”

And that it’s 6-to-5 and pick ‘em whether or not the GOP bung-dweller means ay-rabs, Negroes, lib’rated chicks, Liberals or fags on any give day.

So I cheated and fed the whole mess through my DeAmbigulator (pat. pend.)

And it sounded something like this…

DUBYA: “My fellow Americans, I will now introduce every biped in the greater Annapolis area…

Aaron Abbot.
Abbie Abbot.
Anita Acacia.


(Tape runs for 108 minutes)

And Democratic Senator Joe Lieberman who is, even now, keeping my pyloric area well-lubed with his supple, anteaterlike tongue should I need to suddenly extrude any new Iraqi policy.

How’s it going back there, Jewboy?”

JOE: “I yee-get yat I habe own-yee uun tongue ooo ive orr ny country!”

DUBYA: “Whatyda think, ladies and gentlemen? Nixon had his Kissinger, and I got me my own, pet Asskissinger. Your doin’ a heckuva a job, Leebie.”

JOE: “Hank Ooo!”

DUBYA: “And speaking of Heck-of-a-Jobbers…give it up for the architect of Operation Endless Clusterfuck, Big…Don…Ruuuuusmfeld!!”

/waits for applause/

“Lets keep this short. I got shit to do.

As I look out on all of this fresh, young cannon fodder I am reminded of the toy soldiers I used to blow up as a child. Well, OK, as a 32-year-old, but you get the idea.

If you will each look to you left, then right, then in front of you, and then behind, you will not fail to notice the complete absence of any member of the Bush family, any spawn of the Leading Lights of my Administration or any Republican of note. No leading College Republicans. None of the 101st Fightin’ Keyboardeers.

And it is gratifying to know that no matter how much I lie, no matter how badly I fuck you kids over, how ludicrous my excuses have become, how little regard I obviously have for your petty, peon lives, how much more dangerous I have made the world for your loved ones, and how much harder I have made your jobs, how much international respect your father's sacrifices bought us that I have pissed away like a borrowed Amex card on spring break that, I am delighted to be your Commnder-in-Chief…

..because while as your C-in-C I am free to cower behind, mooch off of and hijack the esteem the military has paid for in blood over the last two hundred years…you are still the only people left on the face of the Earth that I can order to respect me.

So Boo-Ya!

Anyway, ahem…

9/11.
9/11.

Saddam Bin Laden.

The terr’ists started the War in Iraq.

We’re not changing one fucking thing.

9/11.

Democratic Senator Joe 9/11 Lieberman Democratic 9/11 Senator Joe Lieberman Democratic Senator Joe Lieberman 9/11.

It is now over 2,000 dead servicemen and two-and-a-half years after I declared “Mission Accomplished”. And I still have the fucking nerve to whine that anyone who wants to know what the plan is and when the kids will be let out of the meatgrinder I trapped them is a cut-n-runner who’s giving aid and comfort to terrorists.

Sometimes the depths to which I will sink even nauseate me, but hey, that’s why god sent me an angel named Johnny Walker.

So God bless America. God bless 9/11.

And God bless Democratic-Senator-but-Republican-Talking-Point-Factory, “Kapo” Joe Liberman!

Right Joe?"



JOE: “Odd Less Ooo Doo, Nister Resident!”

Monday, November 28, 2005

When a Republican has a Wet Dream…


…this is what it looks like.

Sometimes the oddest things inspire me...

Piece Falls From Supreme Court Facade

By Associated Press

November 28, 2005, 9:51 AM CST

WASHINGTON -- A basketball-sized piece of marble moulding fell from the facade over the entrance to the Supreme Court, landing on the steps near visitors waiting to enter the building.

No one was injured when the stone fell. The marble was part of the dentil moulding that serves as a frame for the frieze of statues atop the court's main entrance.

A group of visitors had just entered the building and had passed under the frieze when the stone fell at 9:30 a.m. EST.

Jonathan Fink, a government attorney waiting in line to attend arguments, said, "All of a sudden, these blocks started falling. It was like a thud, thud."

Ed Fisher, a government worker, said some of the marble pieces shattered, spraying the area with smaller chunks of stone. A group of students from Columbus, Ohio, pocketed some of the fragments as souvenirs, Fisher said.

Mark Goodman, a Washington resident, said some of the people who picked up larger pieces of stones took them back. "We'll have to look on eBay tomorrow," Goodman said.

Earlier in the morning, dozens of people had lined up in hopes of getting a seat for arguments inside the court -- a practice which is not unusual. Justices were back on the bench Monday following a two-week recess.

The fallen marble lay directly in the center of the path up to the court entrance.
...


What was not widely reported is the fallen fragments formed a perfect image of Charles Darwin. The Virtue Police responded quickly by blocking off the area with "Caution: Heretical Event" tape, loudly and unironically singing "Every Sperm Is A Good Sperm" and tasering anyone who tried to get a peek.

When asked, the head of the group -- Reverend Righteous T. Pecksniff – explained that he and his Rapid Yahweh Strike Force were simply following the protocols for such an event as laid down in ancient scripture...and on page 11,251 of the U. S. A. Patriot Act. Reverend Pecksniff would not answer further questions, saying his team had to redeploy immediately to respond to a USAPA-922:

"Unauthorized Likeness of Stephen Jay Gould on an English Muffin."

Vacation photo from the 2004 RNC?


How could you possibly mistake us for Fascists?

Did the Jew Press put you up to it?

Or was it the queers?

Reader Michael takes issue with my analogy of Republican supporters as “Good Germans.”

Which is precisely why it's a bad analogy, DG. The Nazis had not a lot of electoral support from the average Germans. They were the new kids on the block and they were promising everyone the moon--so people figured, hey, let's give them a try. It wasn't about indifference to the outcome, it certainly wasn't about supporting their party platform--it was about being stuck in a seemingly never-ending spiral of economic malaise and political paralysis, and wanting a change.

Now explain to me how that looks anything like the Republican Party or its platform, or the average GOP supporter. We agree that there are plenty of fascist elements in the modern Republican Party and its programs--and as a modern European historian who specializes in the Second World War (and Germany in particular), you don't have to tell me about parallels between the end of the Weimar era and the beginning of the Shrubbery. But that background also teaches me to be very, very careful when using that historical era to explicate matters that are happening in this one.


Two things I want to make clear.

First, Mother driftglass whelped no idiots, and certainly not one stupid enough to cross swords with a “modern European historian who specializes in the Second World War” over the historical details of the Third Reich. I’d as lief take on Steve Gilliard over the Roman strategy at Masada.

Second, Michael isn’t being unreasonable: he appears to be a thoughtful commenter who wants to make sure that my rhetoric doesn’t run me out into the wastelands. I don’t think it does, and I’ll tell you why, but let's be clear that this is a civil conversation.

And, as Dick Durbin learned, you have to be careful if you bring the Nazis into any conversation, but the Durbin case was illuminating precisely because it had less to do with what he was actually saying, and everything to do with how determined his opponents were to deliberately misinterpret what he was saying. What made it especially galling to watch was the all-hard-drive-and-no-RAM stupidity of his detractors who used casually direct comparisons to Hiter and the Nazi Party themselves.

Hell, their own Primitive Radio God – Rush Limbaugh – uses “feminazi” as punctuation and the GOP never bats an eye.

So are comparisons between Bush and Hitler fair? No, and I have tried to avoid making such. He’s a Cult of Personality fascist right down to the soles of his faux cowboy shit-kickers, but he is much more struck from the moldy, banana republic dictator mold.

Are direct comparisons between the Media, Religious and Political leadership of the GOP and the leaders of the Nazi Party fair? Nah. Inviting, yes, but not fair. True, we have been led into an ever-expanding war of conquest by irresponsible liars.

True, Bush appears to have all but signed a Non-Aggression pact with our traditional enemy – Communist China.

True our free and fair press is anything but, and stories that are simply and truthfully critical of Dear Leader are, by and large, completely embargoed by the mainstream media.

True, the incestuous three-way between Oligarchs, Theocrats and Racists have reached their apotheosis under Bush. True also that this has not been an accident, but part of a deliberate 30-year Long March to power.

True that the Dear Leader has actually left us poorer, weaker and vastly more endangered than when he took office. That all he offers is fear.

True that the Dear Leader was never elected in the first place, but anointed.

Also true that all talk of Diebold aside, Dear Leader’s Party has been engaged in a steady program of undermining the integrity of the electoral process by much more direct and old-fashioned means.

Also true that if you add in the 50% of eligible Americans who have simply opted out of the electoral system entirely, Bush’s support among the electorate isn’t much more that 25%.

True that the GOP exists within an entirely self-contained propaganda machine that pimps lies and bile as “news” and pollutes the groundwater of political discourse to the point where honest discussion becomes nearly impossible. And that destroying discourse is explicitly the function of the Fake News.

True that the Bush Administration is the most secretive, anti-Democratic and power mad in modern history.

And, true, that undermining the whole idea of democratic checks and balances on power is a goal they work diligently towards, and not a nightmare they try to guard against.

OK, where was I going with this again?

Ah yes. That the Media, Religious and Political leadership of the GOP aren’t literally Nazis, as much as they may awake writhing in sodden ecstasy at their own Fourth Reich Wet Dreams.

But when describing the Good German, Michael makes this point:

“It wasn't about indifference to the outcome, it certainly wasn't about supporting their party platform--it was about being stuck in a seemingly never-ending spiral of economic malaise and political paralysis, and wanting a change.

And that, I would argue, is the key.

Because what motivates GOP supporters -- and what drives them willingly into the arms of theocrats and fascists -- is not what kind of world they are actually stuck in, but what kind of world they believe they are stuck in.

And who they believe is to blame for their imaginary suffering and victimhood.

I think the Clinton years, taken all-in-all, were a net plus. Yes, a lot of progressive values got short shrift, but for the sake of argument let’s agree for the moment that an eight year stretch of relative peace, prosperity, international respect and budget surpluses has a certain value that cannot be diminished.

And how did the various factions of the GOP – the blindly loyal thralls – view that same era?

As a lurid, terrifying disaster from which they must flee as fast as their fat little hooves could carry them.

As a festering swamp of immorality. As the denigrating nadir of everything that is good about America, worth waging seven years of Total Political War against Clinton. Worth impeachment. Worth trying by every means at their disposal to bring down the elected government of the United States.

Remember that the Right – especially the Religious Right – were whipped into a frenzy over the supposed debauchery of Clintons. Within Right Wing circles, Clinton's illegitimate children and Clinton's conspiracies to assassinate their political enemies, and friends like Vince Foster when he became inconvenient, were spoken of as commonly accepted facts instead of the obviously ludicrous wingnut propaganda that they actually were.

And just to complete the GOP circle-jerk, the mere fact that the weak and shallow main Stream Media still wouldn't report on such obvious slander and virtual incitements to riot as straight "news" was only seen in Wingnuttylvania as further proof that the Evil Liberal Cabal was controlling the press.

Remember the 80s and 90s when the Upright Christian Citizen’s Brigade national was locked into full witch-hunting hysteria over allegations that millions and millions of American children were being ritually molested – and perhaps murdered – by Satanists?

The “degenerate art” frenzy over everything from Robert Mapplethorpe and “Piss Christ”, to NEA and PBS?

The ranting obsession with the evil plots and traps of gays and feminists, “elitists” and Liberals, along with a continuous, strong anti-Semitic subtext that breaks the surface and beaches itself on Fundamentalist podia from time to time.

No there are no mobs of Communists in the streets threatening a coup. And our currency isn’t inflating so fast that we have to roll our lunch money around in wheelbarrows and get paid twice a day just so we can buy bread before the prices go up again.

Yet.

But I would argue that the actual facts on the ground have become completely irrelevant to the Republican rank and file, because the rank and file have sealed themselves into the delusional nut-house in which they have been festering for nearly thirty years. In brief, that pathology is the answer to the question, "What's The Matter With Kansas?"

What else can we make of Republican power-broker Jerry Falwell when he opens his dung-hole after 9/11 and his hateful dogma that it was all the fault of fags, feminist and Liberals is what comes naturally and automatically oozing out?

When Tom DeLay takes to the steps of the Capitol after Columbine to tell the world that the reasons children go on killing sprees are 1) Teaching evolution and, 2) Handing out condoms?

Pat Robertson…shit…where do you even begin with a rabid cur like Robertson?

Republicans US Senator and embarrassment to our entire species -- Ricky Santorum -- writes a whole book on how Liberals are to blame for conspiring to make war on motherhood AND the Catholic Church’s epidemic of molestation. Then implodes on national teevee when asked to point to one, single FACT to supports his deranged yelping…and the squalling little halfwits who put him in office never flinch.

Oh and don’t forget that the ACLU is out to destroy our Democracy, and that abortion-loving Democrats revel in the murder of babies. Don’t forget that we’re also conspiring with Negroes to despoil the purity of the White Race.

On a more personal and local note, I have any number of conservative acquaintances who will swear on the graves of their mothers that the press is completely controlled by Liberals so the true extent of the Evil Liberal Conspiracies never reach a wider audience.

These reprogrammable pinheads get their “facts” from Limbaugh, Hannity and Coulter…and fall apart like Santorum when asked to name Just One of these fiendish Liberal Overlords, and point to Just One of their “lies”. Where is the Liberal Fox News? Where is the Progressive CNN? The Lefty Hate Radio to balance out twenty years of Rightwing AM lies?

And to any student of modern history, doesn't this all sound frighteningly familiar?

The Christopaths believe we are living in the End Times, under siege on all sides by the forces of Darkness, and the Republican Party is the anointed agent of The Lord.

The bigots believe they are at war. That the Negroes and the Jews are in league with the Commie Liberals to steal their jobs and their country. That their glorious Jim Crow Nation can rise once again, and the Republican Party is the place where that Segregationist Reformation can begin.

The oligarchs laugh and laugh and fund the whole filthy mess so they can loot the Earth unmolested.

There is considerable overlap between these factions, but each of them have each been steeping in their own wholly delusional and poisonous mythology for so long that in a very real sense they are not capable to recognizing reality.

Even when reality comes home in body bags.

The burning Right Wing lust for Fascism – for a White Christian Military Strongman who will brutally enforce Fundamentalist ideals of Order and Decency by any means necessary -- has made more inroads, faster, under George Bush than I ever thought would happen in my lifetime and, no, it hasn’t arrived with jackboots and swastikas. It never will. As Huey Long famously said, "When fascism comes to America, it will come wrapped in an American flag."

It will come swaggering across the deck of an aircraft carrier in a flight suit, looking straight into the cameras, and lying to the American Public.

But none of it is possible without the Moderates. Those I referred to as our own version of the Good German. Men and women who aid and abet and go along with it all because they want their fucking tax cuts and, in the end, they’d rather Rule in Hell than Serve in Heaven.

No, there are no riots and no Depression. No chaos in the streets but as I said above, the question is not kind of world GOP supporters actually live in, but what kind of world they have deluded themselves into believing they live in.

And who do these false martyrs blame for their phony stigmata?

As Mark Twain said, "It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so."

So I will happily refrain from referring to Republicans -- Moderate and otherwise -- as Good Germans, or Stalinists, or Pinochet-heads or Nehemiah Scudderites...when they stop behaving like them.

Or, to misquote Paul Krugman, "I'll stop calling them 'Orwellian' when they stop using '1984' as a fucking playbook."

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Huh. That’s weird.


Not bad-weird. Cool-weird.

Some of you might remember a couple of photoessays that I did immediately following Katrina, and that one of them was reinterpreted and rendered into a movie. Once (non-work-safe) by Joe Max, and once (work-safe) by Taps7734


The other one – this one, based on Dylan's classic "Most Of The Time" – also garnered a lot of responses, and I'm also rather pleased with how it turned out…and then today someone pointed this Ode to Katrina site out to me (Don’t worry; it’s work safe. )

Click away. I’ll wait.

Now do I think my little effort had anything to do with that site? Not at all, and I don’t think anybody “borrowed” anything from anyone (other than the obvious fact that everybody filches from Dylan.)

I think that tragedy provokes people, and music inspires them, and the web lends itself to certain forms. And when you start “thinking” in those forms, similar incitements will lead --somehow, some way, though some ineffable harmonic -- to strangely similar results.

I think, as Robert Heinlein famously said, "When railroading time comes you can railroad---but not before."

And I think it's pretty cool.

The Two Towers


Where does space begin?

Where does the warm, green-and-blue cradle of our homeworld finally give way, and you are left with no doubt that the hard vacuum, cold equations and sleeting radiation has begun.

It’s kind of an arbitrary altitude – the people that awarded the X-Prize, for example, chose a different distance (100 kilometers) than the boys and girls at JPL use based somewhat on the advertising-friendly smoothness and roundness of that number – but there is no doubt that there exists the Mom’s-kitchen-hospitality of the Green Hills of Earth, the lethality of space, and a boundary you cross when you move from one to the other.

And that once you have crossed over, things are forever changed.

So where does space begin?

Nick Greene, “Your Guide to Space / Astronomy” on this site has an explanation.

...space is the area above the Earth's atmosphere. However, there is no specific boundary because the atmosphere gradually thins as you move away from the Earth and you can find traces of the gasses we breathe over 100 miles above the earth. In contrast, most passenger jets fly around only 30,000 feet (5.7 miles). Even the best military jets rarely climb above 100,000 feet (a little less than 19 miles).

NASA awards astronaut status to anyone who flies above 50 miles in altitude. Others people may have differing ideas based on their own parameters.


Another thing I didn’t know until I looked it up is that the average height of an Iraqi man is just about the same as the average height of an American man. About 5’ 9”.

Currently, the tallest building in the world is Taipai 101, breaking the tape at 1,667 feet – or a little over a third of a mile.

As of yesterday morning, the number of our soldiers killed in Bush’s Folly was 2105.

Stand the honorable men and women we have sacrificed at mute, final attention -- one atop another -- and an altar to George Bush’s arrogance and stupidity two-and-a-third miles high would climb into the sky, dwarfing even the most fevered drawing-board fantasy designs for theoretical skyscrapers.

As a means of comparison, our slain soldiers stand taller than seven Taipai 101’s. Just a little shy of half the height of Mount Everest – the tallest mountain measured from sea level on the face of the Earth.

To our fallen GIs, if you round the total number down to account for the diminutive size of slaughtered women and children, and stood them heel-to-head, the number of civilians killed in Iraq would form a pylon approximately 29 miles high.

American GI’s wounded…an agonizing obelisk 17 miles high on top of that.

Each number rising, so that by the end of this, the Year of our Lord 2005, George Bush will have build a Fifty Mile edifice of misery, death and dismemberment for all the world to see. Fifty miles of pain, bricked with uncountable tons of bone. Mortared together with ruined flesh and a lake of human blood.

Fifty miles of lost lives, blasted hope and crippled futures from base to peak, rising up to touch the rim of space itself and growing like a cancer every single day.

And next to that is another tower.

It’s drier. Less passion-inducing, but terribly important nonetheless. A tower of our treasure, bled into the deserts of Iraq, lost, or simply stolen by the plunderers through which this Administration rules Iraq by proxy. Money which, both now and later, is and will be gleaned directly from the taxed sweat and labor of average Americans.

Resources that could and should have been spent making us smarter, healthier, freer and safer are now gone forever. Pissed away by Bush and his stooges and cronies. By weak men who have always leached a living mooching off the toil and talent of others.

Now for me, a buck is a buck and is certainly money, but a C-Note in my wallet feels like Real Money. And when it comes to laying out the dimensions of money, this web site does a pretty good job of concretizing the abstract.

A stack of $100 bills one-inch high is $25,000.

A lot of families in this country live on that much or less per year. A stack four inches high is $100,000, a pretty good salary for a professional or management position. A million dollars is a stack 40-inches high, a little over three feet tall. A million dollars isn't what it used to be, but if you have it and invest it with a 10% return, it would bring in $100,000 per year.


FYI, in calendar year 2003, the median income for a family of four in my state of Illinois was right around $70,000…or a stack of hundreds less than three inches high.

A sheaf of paper less deep than my thumb is long.

Remember that among the many, many, many lies we were told by this Administration was the cost of this war. We were told that the reconstruction of Iraq “pay for itself”, and that the war surely would not cost more than, say, one billion dollars.

So how high is a billion-dollar stack of $100 bills?

From the same site…
You would be amazed at how many highly educated people answer this question with "twice as high" or "ten times as high," or "as high as the ceiling." A billion is 1000 millions, which works out to be a pile of $100 bills 1 kilometer high (over six tenths of a mile)! Last year Bill Gates doubled his net worth in one year from $25 billion to $50 billion, so his income for that year is a pile of $100 bills over 15 miles high!


And based on the burn rate of our national fortune, by the end of this year the 50-Mile-High Bush Tower of Blood and Misery will have been joined by the Bush USArbusto Bust-out Tower of Lost Treasure.

And at 75 miles high and growing, that formation will punch straight through the mesosphere, heading like a bat out of Hell for Low Earth Orbit and the Van Allen radiation belt.

These are the immutable realities that govern our lives now, and strung across them like dark lights and tinsel is everything else.

The terrorist we are breeding in the cauldron we created. The retreat of the Right into an impenetrable bunker of vitriol, delusion and insanity. The damage done to our public institutions and discourse. Our international reputation, which this President has almost single-handedly managed to sabotage more effectively than any terrorist.

All of it. All of it.

These twin truths have recklessly and radically changed the orbit of the world and the foundations of our democracy for generations to come in ways which we cannot even measure.

Standing in the terrible shadows cast over the Earth by this White House and the Party that installed them in power, it is long past time for some blunt talk about catastrophe that George W. Bush has visited on our country.

Some have been leading the conversation for years now, and some have been slow to rouse themselves for fear of being slandered by the sleazy traitors that now occupy the White House, but the talk has begun

The About-Face of a Hawkish Democrat


Murtha, With Many Military Connections, Moves From Voting for War to Urging Troop Withdrawal
By Shailagh Murray
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, November 25, 2005; A02

Of all the Democrats calling for an end to the Iraq war, Rep. John P. Murtha is an anomaly. Unlike Sens. John F. Kerry (Mass.) and Russell Feingold (Wis.), he doesn't want to be president. He's no liberal, like his House colleagues Dennis J. Kucinich (Ohio) and Maxine Waters (Calif.). He's certainly the only one to call Vice President Cheney a friend.

A man of gruff familiarity -- most colleagues find it more natural to call him "Murtha" than "Jack" -- has been representing his Pennsylvania district for 16 terms, rising to become the senior Democrat on the House Appropriations panel's defense subcommittee. For that perch, he became known for his opposition to defense cuts and his willingness to send troops into battle -- and even to draft them, if necessary. He was the first Vietnam veteran elected to Congress, and has fashioned a reputation as the Democrats' soldier-legislator -- a John McCain type without swagger or upward ambition. He generally prefers the shadows of Capitol Hill to the spotlight -- though that changed dramatically in recent days.

Last week, as Congress was preparing to leave town for a two-week Thanksgiving break, Murtha told a gathering of colleagues and, later, reporters that -- although he had voted in favor of the resolution authorizing the Iraq invasion -- he now wants American troops withdrawn immediately. "The U.S. cannot accomplish anything further in Iraq militarily," Murtha said. "It is time to bring them home."


And standing in the dreadful twilight of the daily, mounting Iraqi body-count, what was the mindless, whining Republican counterpunch to those who dare to ask hard questions and demand honest answers?

Same as it ever was.

Same as it ever was.

Because beyond stripping this country to the studs and handing it over to the oligarchs and snake-handlers, the modern GOP has never had ideas or policies.

Instead of thoughtful planning and careful strategy, they have always leaned on the resources George W. Bush used to prop himself up his entire life: lots of cash, lots of cronies, an army of rat-fuckers and political assassins to smash anything between Dubya and what Dubya wants, and an endless ocean of bilious and frighteningly stupid followers.

Instead of honest engagement they have loathsome toadie front-men like Scott McClellan (from the same article)

Other Republicans depicted Murtha's call for withdrawal as irresponsible and even dangerous. On Nov. 18, White House spokesman Scott McClellan described Murtha as "endorsing the policy positions of Michael Moore and the extreme liberal wing of the Democratic Party" and suggested he was advocating a "surrender to the terrorists."


By Spiro Atwater Cheney.

And House Republicans, led by none other than...


Schmidt in war of words

Rookie lawmaker's 'coward' remarks ricochet

By Malia Rulon
Enquirer Washington Bureau

WASHINGTON - Three days after Rep. Jean Schmidt was booed off the House floor for saying that "cowards cut and run, Marines never do," the Ohioan she quoted disputed the comments.

Lawmakers were in the midst of a passionate debate Friday over whether to withdraw U.S. troops from Iraq, an issue pushed to a vote by Republicans after public comments from Murtha.

Schmidt - decked out in a red-white-and-blue suit that resembled the U.S. flag - went to the floor and quoted from a telephone conversation with Bubp: "He asked me to send Congress a message: Stay the course.

"He also asked me to send Congressman Murtha a message: That cowards cut and run, Marines never do."


Unfortunately for this lying slice of Republican GOP slunkmeat from Ohio (same article)...


Danny Bubp, a freshman state representative who is a colonel in the Marine Corps Reserve, told The Enquirer that he never mentioned Rep. John Murtha, D-Pa., by name when talking with Schmidt, and he would never call a fellow Marine a coward.
"The unfortunate thing about all of that is that her choice of words on the floor of the House - I don't know, she's a freshman, she had one minute.

"Unfortunately, they came out wrong," said Bubp, R-West Union.


Bubp, who has served in the Marine Corps Reserve for 27 years, including three years of active duty, said he called Schmidt on Friday afternoon to discuss the resolution that called for the immediate withdrawal of troops from Iraq - not to talk about Murtha.

The House nonbinding resolution failed by a 403-3 vote.
"There was no discussion of him personally being a coward or about any person being a coward," Bubp said.


Oops. So repudiated by her "source", what do the folks back home have to say (same article)?

"How dare this idiot call John Murtha, a war hero, a coward. I am ashamed to be from her district," Gregory Moore, a 39-year-old lawyer from Batavia, said in an e-mail.

Chris Finney, a Cincinnati lawyer who led an anti-tax group in opposing Schmidt during her recent special election, said the politics of negativity and name-calling should be a thing of the past.

"People want someone who can get things done," Finney said. "She's an embarrassment to this district."


And what did Schmidt herself say about her own tactics just a month before?

Several bloggers called on Schmidt and Bubp to apologize and resign their offices. Others compared her remarks with a statement she made minutes after she was sworn in on Sept. 6.

"I pledge to walk in the shoes of my colleagues and refrain from name-calling or the questioning of character," Schmidt said then. "It is easy to quickly sink to the lowest form of political debate. Harsh words often lead to headlines, but walking this path is not a victimless crime. This great House pays the price."


Bwahaha!

No, Mr. Bubp, she did not misunderstand.

What she said “did not come out wrong.”

She lied.

She pulled some slander out of her ass and attributed it to another Marine so it would stick and deliberately went out of her way to knife Congressman Murtha in the back in a way that would be especially spiteful and damaging.

So what else is new?

Just another scripture-spouting shrike. Another halfwit pustule on the ass of the Party of God.

In other words, just another lying Republican.

And, yes, in the last few days the rhetoric has cooled somewhat, but why?

Certainly not just because it was dishonest and despicable – any Administration that keeps a lizard like Rove on the payroll and lets him run the country on the days when Cheney is hot-tubbing in the blood of virgins obviously has no qualms about "despicable".

The bile was dialed down only because it wasn’t working.

Remember these are the people who stood atop a pile of Bibles high enough to blot out the towers of blood and treasure the Bush Regime has already wasted in Iraq and screamed their moral superiority to the Heavens.

These are the Christopath flying monkeys that took power by riding the wake of their impeachment of a smart, compassionate President for lying about a consensual sexual relationship.

These are the people who think smart is “elitist”, and so put their entire stock into whether or not a man is a “straight shooter” and a “Good Christian.” In other words, can he use the Gospels to "disassemble" with a straight face.

Well Bush and his junta have never been either honest or Christain for five minutes at a stretch, and now, in just five short years under the Bush regime, “mendacious, sleazebag Republican” has become a completely redundant phrase.

So take a bow, Moderates.

Stand up and take a bow, because to win at the ballot box you shook hands with the Devil, and for the unforgivable sins your Party has committed, the crimes, the hypocrisy and ruin it has brought down on all our heads you have only yourselves to blame.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Told you so.



This from yours truly on November 22nd.
Next up: “Mugging foiled by wedge of sweet potato pie.” and “Virgin Mary statue cries real cranberry sauce!


And now this from the November 26th Associated Press report...

Believers Flock to 'Crying' Virgin Mary

By JULIET WILLIAMS, Associated Press Writer

Carrying rosary beads and cameras, the faithful have been coming in a steady stream to a church on the outskirts of Sacramento for a glimpse of what some are calling a miracle: A statue of the Virgin Mary they say has begun crying a substance that looks like blood.

It was first noticed more than a week ago, when a priest at the Vietnamese Catholic Martyrs Church spotted a stain on the statue's face and wiped it away. Before Mass on Nov. 20, people again noticed a reddish substance near the eyes of the white concrete statue outside the small church, said Ky Truong, 56, a parishioner.

Since then, Truong said he has been at the church day and night, so emotional he can't even work. He believes the tears are a sign.

"There's a big event in the future — earthquake, flood, a disease," Truong said. "We're very sad."



A red trail could be seen from the side of the statue's left eye to about halfway down the robe of concrete.

"I think that it's incredible. It's a miracle. Why is she doing it? Is it something bothering her?" asked Maria Vasquez, 35, who drove with her parents and three children from Stockton, about 50 miles south of Sacramento.


For years I have borne the knowledge that I was cursed with strange powers that alienated me from others.

As Poe describes in "Alone"...


From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.


Now I can reveal that I –- and I alone -- can tell if the driver in front of me is really, really going to turn left, regardless of what his or her directional signal does or does not say.

Cab drivers, who are apparently legally barred from hinting to anyone, anywhere what they’re going to do next?

Trivial.

The mascara engrossed? The cell-phone absorbed?

Trifles.

The garden-variety dumbass who’s amnesia suddenly wears off in the middle of the intersection?

A mere bagatelle.

Let me tell you, it is a daunting thing, to be the custodian of such abilities. To agonize every day over whether or not each time I use them – despite the purity of my motives -- I am doing right, or, in the long term, I am setting in epic, tragic motion events that may result in the unraveling of the space/time continuum itself.

And now this. Well I'm not ashamed to admit, I'm afraid. So very afraid.

Time to repair to the Fastness of the Minor League of Justice for some serious consultation with my fellow members.

Thank god it’s Dollar Shot night there ;-)

Other Bush Infamy Monument Idea(s)


The HalliBurghers of the CPA.

Still in very much motion today, but musing about commentary from the post below compelled me to pull over, run into a local farmhouse, commandeer Mr. & Mrs. Kent's computer and post this up because, hell, I think it's funny.

Against my own nature, I have to keep this brief because I hear the Kent's kid coming, and he's apparently some kind of major-league ass-kicker, so I have to run, but if you can come up with any other ideas for our Dubya Fuckup Statuary Garden on the Mall in DC (Thanks, Mac. Perfect location.) let me know, and if they are very clever, I'll add 'em here.

Albeit irregularly as my schedule allows.

Doesn't even have to be Rodin, although I am partial to his work.

And, no, "The Drinker" wouldn't qualify.

Too obvious.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Genius.


Somebody in the Bosnian Department of Thinking Waaaay Outside the Box need a serious promotion for this idea.

Bosnians agree: Commemorate Bruce Lee
By Beth Kampschror | Correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor
MOSTAR, BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA - In the heart of Europe's war-torn Balkans, a land where it's hard to get people to agree on anything, there's one point of common ground: The new Bruce Lee statue will point north.

When it is unveiled in Mostar Saturday, the 5-foot, 7-inch bronze likeness will be the world's first monument to the late great martial arts star - edging out by one day a new statue going up in Hong Kong. Bosnia-Herzegovina is about as far as one can get from the Hong Kong streets where the Chinese-American film legend unleashed his fists of fury. But, in some ways, that's the point.

"He's far [enough] away from us that nobody can ask what he did during World War II, during World War I, or what his ancestors did under Turkey. He's ... not Catholic, not Orthodox, not Muslim," says Veselin Gatalo, head of Mostar's Urban Movement group. "Bruce Lee is part of our idea of universal justice - that the good guys can win."
While it may prompt some snickers, the Bruce Lee tribute will stand as the only monument raised in postwar Bosnia without an uproar. Bruce's greatest virtue - beyond his two-fingered push up - is that he had no dog in the Balkans' centuries-old religious fight.

...

Survivors of a Serb-run detention camp at Omarska are awaiting international mediation about their proposed monument.
Rebuilding mosques, churches, and bridges also invites squabbles over whether a place was historically Croat, Muslim, or Serb. Moderates say these sites belong to everyone. "To talk about cultural heritage in these terms is totally wrong," says Amra Hadzimuhamedovic, an architect on the state Commission to Preserve National Monuments.

The Bruce Lee statue is something everyone can support, says Mr. Gatalo. But in a town where Croats are concentrated in west Mostar and Muslims in east, Gatalo's group had to consider which way the "Enter the Dragon" icon would face.
"If he faced west he'd be defending east Mostar from west Mostar, or west Mostar from east," Gatalo says. "And he can't face south, because that's Croatia. Facing north, he looks nowhere."


Sometimes you have to walk to the other side of the Earth to find a reason to agree, but sometimes it's worth it. Although, yes, I freely admit if it had been left up to me I’d have chosen “Montressor” from “The Cask of Amontillado”,

but I’m low and perverse and should not be trusted with such delicate matters.

What I am certain of is that, within 10 years we can and will erect, without dispute, a statue of George W. Bush, unshaven, knee-walking drunk and looking for the 9/11 culprits under lamp post labeled “Iraq”.

Because, as the joke goes, even though Iraq’s a thousand miles away from where he lost his keys, he though the political light would be better in downtown Baghdad.

Why will we be able to build such a monument in 2015?

Because by that time, outside of a few, holdout, inbred, Christopath-cult pestholes, no one is going to admit to having actually cast their vote for the man who is fast going down in history as the leader of the Most Spectacularly Venial and Incompetent Presidency in United States’ History.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Penguin slated to open




For Two-Face


At GOP “En Flagrantepalooza”

Read on

Cheney to Headline DeLay Fundraiser

By Associated Press
Published November 22, 2005, 10:20 PM CST
HOUSTON -- A campaign fundraiser for embattled Rep. Tom DeLay postponed by Hurricane Rita in September is being rescheduled for Dec. 5 with Vice President Dick Cheney as the headliner.

"It points out that the party is behind (DeLay) and the (Bush) administration is supportive and wants to keep Congressman DeLay in office," Eric Thode, Republican chairman in DeLay's home county of Fort Bend, told the Houston Chronicle in a story published Tuesday.

The most expensive tickets for the event -- $4,200 -- includes a spot at a VIP reception and a photograph with the vice president.

"Congressman Tom DeLay has been an exceptional leader on Capitol Hill and Vice President Cheney looks forward to helping his re-election effort," said Lee Anne McBride, a Cheney spokeswoman in Washington.

DeLay was indicted earlier this year on campaign finance-related charges in Travis County, an action that forced him to step down at least temporarily as House majority leader.



I dunno.

If it were me, and I were arranging a Republican fundraiser, maybe I wouldn’t put the two most gamma-radioactively loathsome examples of the depths to which the GOP has sunk on the same stage together. Maybe I’d at least think twice about pairing up the Martin and Lewis of treason and moral depravity and having them tread the boards arm-in-arm.

Because who knows but what it might actually remind people that the Party of Lincoln has nothing whatsoever to do with Lincoln…or Teddy Roosevelt…or Eisenhower anymore. That the current landlords defile the legacy of those men by calling themselves Republicans. That they are grave robbers who have disinterred their Founders and now reel drunk and stupid around the pyre built to incinerate the last of their remains, while playing dress-up in the winding cloths they pilfered from those sacred tombs, mocking the dead with mooched phrases and counterfeit honor.

But then I think…remind who?

Seriously, if person has even a shred of conscience left, and more that two synapses to rub against each other, how can they remain in the Republican Party? The moral centrifuge of the last five years certainly has purged out any but the most wretched, retarded, hateful and nuts, so who is left?

The Christopaths. The Neocons. The Segregationsists. And propping the whole whorehouse up, the deadloss “Moderates” who have watched the leaders of their Party betray them at every turn and hand the keys to the Lincoln Town Car over to the likes of James Dobson and Jerry Falwell with a smirk.

And why?

Because the Moderates know this simple truth: Without the millions and millions and millions of votes these scum represent...

They. Would. Never. Win. Anything.

So in the end, these “Look with alarm” Moderates are actually the worst of the bunch because they allegedly know better. The are the Good Germans who put up with, elected and supported the Nazi Party because they wanted the trains to run on time, and then copped a plea of ignorance, of “we never knew they were serious”, but conveniently found their collective conscience only after other people had cleaned up the disaster they themselves had created.

But here and now, if you are still a Republican, it isn’t for lack of evidence of the dreadful force for chaos and disaster your Party has become, so if you are still a Republicans you are either too gutless to act on your own principles, or you actually like it this way. The facts admit no third alternative, and you will have a lot to explain and apologize for when the tables turn.

So I take it back: Those left in the GOP clearly like their perverts and traitors shameless, brazen and wrapped head-to-toe in Bible Verses. Or are so Vaseline-spined that their strategy for GOP reform seem to be to keep supporting the Party of Cheney while impotently bitching about it around the margins, then hiding under a pile of coats in the bedroom and hoping is all magically goes away.

So given the ugly reality that this is the current GOP demographic, maybe headlining Cheney/DeLay is a stroke of evil genius.

Which is probably at least one of the reasons why they don’t let me organize Republican fundraisers.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

(v 2.0)* Dubya KRP’s Big Guy tries to explain…


…his latest, failed Iraqi tactic: “Operation Spiro the Critics.”

“As God as my witness, I though this turkey would fly!

To all you splendid moonbats out there, this is my early wish that each and every one of you have a Happy, Libidinous and Unabashedly Liberal Thanksgiving ;-)

Your pal,

d r i f t g l a s s

* (How did my staff ever let this go out without the audio? Curses! Well all I can say is a certain intern here at the castle better have some other, contortion-based skills, or it's fried boot on a bed of Cat-5 cables for them for the Day of the Turkey.

See, first you click here for the setup...


Then here for the punch line...

Damn. Why is good imaginary help so hard to find?)

The Oven Roasted Jaws of Life?




When a Thanksgiving-proximate story features quick thinking, heroism, the phrase “former carnival worker”, a Katrina survivor and a Norbest frozen turkeys, how the hell can I not post it?



Man uses turkey to rescue 2 from car
By Angela Rozas
Tribune staff reporter

November 22, 2005

Mark Copsy saw the smoke inside the car, and watched as the vehicle careered into a curb in Northlake on Sunday afternoon. It took him only a moment to realize the horror--the car was on fire, and there were people inside. Copsy and his 12-year-old son ran the half-block to help.

When they got to the car, Copsy, 42, said he couldn't open the door. Inside, he could see an elderly man in the driver's seat. A female passenger sat next to him, her face white. He tried to smash the glass with his foot, but couldn't do it. In his hands, he held a 20-pound frozen Norbest turkey he and his son had just bought for Thanksgiving.

"I said, `Hell, I'll just use the damn turkey.' And that's what I did," Copsy said. He yelled for the driver to cover his face, and used the turkey to smash out three windows.


Copsy, a former carnival worker and Hurricane Katrina evacuee from Marrero, La., is living with his wife and son in her mother's home in Northlake


Next up: “Mugging foiled by wedge of sweet potato pie.” and “Virgin Mary statue cries real cranberry sauce!”

President Nelson Muntz sez...


"Stop torturing yourself! Stop torturing yourself!"

I heard this story once.

Or, maybe it was more of a metaphor. Actually it may have been some kind of street-allegory I overheard standing in a Shaktipat line with a friend of mine waiting to get walloped with a peacock feather. Which is a much longer story.

Anyway there’s this parable about the trader and the soldier. Longtime friends, each was a master in his chosen profession.

One day they were out at the bazaar and the trader found a vase of surpassing beauty, crafted with great skill. He smiled to his friend and said, “Let me show you how a professional bargains.”

He asked the shop owner, “How much?”

“1,000,” came the reply.

“That is an insult for which I should rip the living heart from your chest,” the trader snorted. “I offer you 300 for this shit bucket.”

“300!” the owner said. “I can hear you, but can no longer see you for an offer of 300 is venom spit straight into me eyes. And yet if I must use naught but my ears and nose, I shall still track you to the end of time and strike off your head for offering me any less that 900.”

“*900!?” the trader nearly fainted. “When you should be offering me 900 to haul away this rubbish, bury it and spare you the shame of the world knowing you had ever shown such trash as this in the window of your shop? Were I not robbed of my reason my staring too long at this repulsive thing I would not now offer 400. Take it quickly before I regain my good sense and smash it to atoms.”

“400?!”

Well, you get the point…except when the trader hit 500 he changed his tone. The owner rolled out his top shelf bluster, but at 500 the trader just said, very calmly, “I shall go no higher.”

And when the owner tried another tack, the trader turned to the soldier and said, “We’re leaving.”

And they walked out. They got halfway down the dusty street before they heard the shop owner shout out a VERY dirty word and say, “All right. All right. 500.”

Well the soldier was very impressed with this technique, and had seen a magnificent and cunningly crafted sword in that same store, and resolved to himself to go back the very next day and put into practice what his friend had shown him.

And so he did, and they danced the same quarreling dance of offer, aggrieved shock, affront and counter-offer as the owner and trader has danced the day before.

Then the soldier announced he was leaving and walked out. And walked. And walked. And peeked quickly over his shoulder. And strained his ears for the sound of the shop keeper chasing him down. And walked some more.

In fact he walked all the way across town to the home of the trader. His friend invited him in and the soldier sat and explained all, shaking his head in confusion.

“What happened?” he asked. “I followed your methods to the letter.”

“And…”

“And the shopkeeper never came after me.”

“Ah, the trader said, “let me explain.

“You understand the art of war, my friend, but I understand human nature. When I told the shopkeeper that I would pay no more than 500, I meant it sincerely. It is a striking piece, but when I saw it I decided that 500 was a fair price and that I would rather walk away from the deal than pay more than I felt it was worth.

“What did you make as your final offer to the shop keeper for the sword?”

“300.”

“Would you have paid more?”

The soldier nodded.

“And that, my friend,” the trader said, “is the difference. The shop keeper knew I would never have returned, and that my price was fair, so we struck a deal. But like me, the shop keeper is an expert in the art of human nature. He knows you will pay more, so he knows you will eventually come back and pay what he wants – perhaps even his original asking-price – and that all you have to do is wait.

“You must decide in your own heart what you are truly willing to pay, and then truly be willing to turn your back and walk away from it without regret if the price is just high.”

There may have been more, but at that point I got belted with a big-assed peacock plume, and lost the thread of it.

So what does that have to do with John McCain?

Everything.

Because McCain has no fixed ceiling on what he is willing to pay to be President…and, I would argue, on an almost metabolic level, on what he is willing to pay to stop the government from using torture as a tool of statecraft.

I don't pretend for a minute to understand what John McCain went through during his 5 ½ years in Hanoi but it’s safe to say it left the deepest possible mark on him that an experience can leave on a human. An episode that laid scar tissue down into the marrow. It....reformatted him into different kind of man.

He understands torture as well or better than any America. He understands that as an means of extracting information it is at best unreliable and, at worst, worse than useless.

But as an instrument of terror, it's very effective. You can make a man do anything, say anything, agree to anything if you know what he dreads. If you know what lurks behind the door of his personal Room 101 you can make him dance.

Well, for the porcine, young Yellow Elephants of the GOP, being made to walk their loose, brave wartalk is their greatest fear. They thought this war would be fought on the cheap and easy by the little people. And as long as the military was kept packed with disposable lower-caste members they were free to bloviate as loud and proud and arrogantly bumper-sticker-stupid as they liked...knowing they'de never have to actually pick up the tab.

For the Administration -- the People of the Lie -- they live in terror of the moral rot that has eaten out their hearts being dumped out on the sideway for all and sundry to stare at.

They live in a world where the resources of the most powerful nation on Earth have been bent and perverted to cover up their spiritual leprosy, and it is still not enough.

Even with a core of obsequi-bot followers who will believe any Jesus-flavored lie Dubya snowballs into their mouths, it is still not enough.

Even with a prostrate press, it is still not enough.

However high the wall around this Administration may be, however tightly tuckpointed the stones, the groundwater in every direction now stinks of their deathcult lies and madness. However tightly they squeeze, they can't control it and it scares the shit out of them.

And with John McCain, given his history, one might reasonably speculate that his exposed nerve is torture itself. Both on a personal and a patriotic level, what could be more horrifying to McCain than his government -- run by his Party -- not only engaging in torture, but first hearing the Republican President spit in his face and lie through his teeth about it,,,and then listen to his Republican Vice President kick him in his already bruised and shattered ribs by moving to sanctify and protect torture as a matter of national policy.

So one might ask why? Why does Cheney have such a fetish for protecting something as medieval and grotesque and anti-American as torture?

I mean other than the obvious fact that Dick Cheney is one evil motherfucker?

One possible answer might be that it gives them leverage over McCain. Remember these are people who looked at the blood and carnage and national trauma of 9/11 as a political opportunity. As a chance to put a hammerlock on the conscience of the nation, and twist and wrench our limbs with fear until we scream and writhe and the cartilage pops just to get what they want.

And what is the topic of torture but the rawest possible tissue McCain has?

And what is holding out the threat of vetoing his amendment to stop his government from torturing human beings but the Bush Administration pounding on his already crushed skull with a length of rebar?

For five years, George Bush has profligately shat all over John Mc Cain and everything he claimed to stand for, and yet they need him. Now that the noose is tightening and the issue has transcended the conduct of the war and become one of the personal credibility and integrity of the President, they need him to hide behind. He has been left free to nitpick and criticize the on-the-ground particulars, but the White House desperately needs McCain’s medals, biography and reputation to lay down suppressing fire long enough to get Bush safely away.

In other words, behind closed doors, I can easily imagine Cheney slapping McCain across the mouth, screaming…

“Say it, bitch!

Say ‘George Bush is a good and decent man!’ Say it or we’ll throw the whole Rove Machine behind Santorum. Say it or we’ll open a hundred Abu Ghraib and start feeding hajis through fucking meatgrinders!

And it’ll be your fault, McCain, because you could’ve stopped it. Right here, right now, you can stop it all.

You can ride into the White House on a white horse as the fucking savior of the Universe in ’08.

You can keep Blackwater from cutting the nuts and fingers off them little ay-rabs kids.

All you have to do is play ball for a coupla more years and you can have it all.

You can save the fucking world.

Just say, ‘George Bush is an honorable man.’”


And he will say it. Again and again. Because however much McCain is an expert at the art of war, no group specializes in and exploits the darkest side of human nature more deliberately and effectively than the monsters of the Bush White House.

They know when it comes to stopping torture and winning the Oval Office, there is no price so high that McCain won’t pay it. Which gives them leverage, and because they are men without morals, they have no qualms about leaning hard on that lever.

And so however badly they abuse him and everything he loves, he will always come back tomorrow on bended knee and pay whatever they ask

Monday, November 21, 2005

The side-effects of a digital world.


Pre-Blog Age poisoner Graham Young.

This post contains some material that I found disturbing. Nothing visually shocking or verbally explicit, but disturbing nonetheless. If that's going to bother you, don't read this.

I’m a bit evangelical when it comes to technology.

I don’t believe in overtechnologizing life, or that a new chipset and more RAM is the solution to every problem, but I do believe that more good – vastly more good – has come out of the genius and innovations of the digital age than bad…despite the dodgy origins and checkered provenance of some of our shiniest and coolest toys. In my case, although it took some patience and charm, everyone in my family circle – from 8 to eighty – has a computer of some kind, web access (even if it’s dial-up) and knows how to make use of them both. I consider such access as fundamental to a 21st century in a modern society as a telephone or smoke detectors.

Can you do without them? Sure.

Does doing without them put you at a competitive and cultural disadvantage? Definitely.

But quite apart from any perennial “boon or ruin” debate, it’s also undoubtedly the case that technology has changed social patterns and rhythmes in very strange ways. For example, when you can take pictures anywhere, anytime with almost-complete anonymity, and send them immediately to the other side of the continent, things change in two paradoxically opposite directions: change is at once radical and yet slips in almost without anyone noticing.

A minor bane of my existence has been the invisible rise of “soft scheduling”. Where everyone makes multiple, overlapping, mutually-exclusive plans for, say, a weekend night…which exist like in a foamy, indeterminate, neo-quantum state of flux until just before the go-time for a primary option. Like Schroedinger’s Cat, if Schroedinger’s Cat stood in front of the mirror at 9:00 p.m. on a Friday, still nattering away on its cell, still juggling six possible options for the same date/time. Used to be by Wednesday we all knew pretty well what we were doing on Friday, where, and with whom, and who was in charge of bringing the beer.

Now people really are much busier than they used to be, and multitasking has become totemized. Fetishized. A lot of us “sample” life a lot more than we live it because we want to do it all, and the definition of “all” has bloated up in the last 15 years like Windows OS Code, while the time we have to focus on one task or pleasure has slowly evaporated. Throw cell phones into that mix and “soft scheduling” was as inevitable as it is irritating.

Moving from the annoying to the horrific, this from Japan about a serial-killer-hero-worshiping girl and her blog…

The Times
November 03, 2005
Schoolgirl blogger poisons mother in homage to killer

From Leo Lewis in Tokyo

A HIGH-SCHOOL girl has been arrested for gradually poisoning her mother to the brink of death and keeping a blog of her progress — all done as a grim homage to a British serial killer whom she idolised.
Over the summer the 16-year-old student is alleged to have laced her mother’s food with increasing doses of thallium, a potent rat poison. Her mother is now critically ill and in a coma.

The girl, who is from rural Shizuoka, central Japan, was apparently inspired by Graham Young, the notorious Teacup Poisoner of Bovingdon, Hertfordshire, who, in 1962, aged 14, slowly killed his stepmother with what was thought to be the same lethal substance. Asked by the compilers of her school yearbook to identify the historical figure she admired the most, she named Young.

In further emulation of her deranged hero, who poisoned numerous family members and work colleagues and died in Parkhurst after nine years in Broadmoor, the Japanese girl recorded her mother’s horrific daily sufferings in a matter-of-fact internet diary.

The girl’s blog has been removed from the internet but extracts apparently copied from it survive on other Japanese websites.

“It’s a bright, sunny day today, and I administered a delivery of acetic thallium,” the girl wrote in August. “The man in the pharmacy didn’t realise he had sold me such a powerful drug.”
...

Several days later, her blog mentioned rashes on the victim’s body and problems with her breathing. The girl goes on to report her mother’s hallucinations and other agonies, before criticising her inadequate life insurance policy.

Both the girl and Young tested poisons on living things. Young treated his co-workers as human guinea-pigs, while the Shizuoka girl is believed to have relied on animals. A severed cat’s head is understood to have been discovered in her room along with a stash of thallium. “Up until now I have killed various creatures,” her blog reports, before describing the mother’s poisoning. “It was fun to play with them, but all the same rather tiring. It took rather a long time to dispose of the lumps of dead flesh.”
...

WEB DIARY OF A HIGH SCHOOL GIRL
July 3
“Let me introduce a book: Graham Young’s diary on killing with poison. The autobiography of a man I respect. He murdered someone at the age of 14.”

September 4
“To kill a living creature. The moment of sticking a knife into something. The warmth of the blood. The little sigh. It is all a comfort to me.”

September 26 
“My mother will go to hospital tomorrow and nobody has yet found out what the cause is. To my regret, she is not covered by good insurance, so life will be a little difficult.”

October 
“I took a photo of her today as I did yesterday. My brother said I had a penetrating stare and that he was horrified.”
...


Jesus that's chilling.

And why?

Not why would she do it. I don't even ask such things anymore. Shit, no one need go any further than watching any random 20 hours of All-CSI-and-Law-and-Order-All-the-Time teevee to earn college credit towards their Bachelor’s degree in sociopathology. But why write about it on a web log?

Why document your crime in detail and then put it up in the public square when any of a billion people can read it (of course if Atrios had posted it, the first comment would have been “Frist”.) She appears to have wanted to get away with it, and this didn’t sound anything like a “cry for help”.

I dunno. There is something about the collision of reptilian sadism, attempted matricide and technology that makes this story especially creepy to me.

And from bestial brutality to the possibly tragic…

You all know what spambots are by now, right?

Little automated advertising barnacles that badly mimic human language and intonation that affix themselves to the comments section of a blog. I have my little spambot tanglefoot at the top of this blog – which still cracks me up and which has become a modestly renowned thing in its own right – but even that seems to only create a relatively spam-free wake for the seven or eight posts that trail directly behind it.

The ones further back can still get pretty weedy with the little pests.

So what?

Well I ran across a blogger many long months ago when I was zigging and zagging around, web-window shopping. Looking for this and than. I may have been checking out the more eclectic stuff that people who link to my site also link to, and came across a pretty good writer who was also a working prostitute. I’m going to be deliberately vague about the specifics, but suffice it to say that this person was very bright and wrote English with the accent and peculiar muscularity of someone who had mastered it as a second language.

And I would drop by once in a great while and read the new posts. The sexual particulars were very much not my cuppa joe, but the writing was always good…until it veered sharply into despair. And then writing about life being painful and not worth the trouble appeared.

Then a rally.

And then the site “went dark”, and there have been no new posts since.

Ok, perhaps they just got bored or busy. Perhaps they changed their lives. Perhaps to move on they had to shed old haunts and habits like a skin. But I really don’t think so.

Now I wouldn’t have known this person had we passed on the street, and it’s highly unlikely we ever would have crossed paths in the analog world, but I came to admire their voice and while I have no way of knowing what actually happened (no email option on the site) my imagination can’t help but run out ahead of the facts and what I think probably happened saddened me.

However what makes it more than just another poignant story to me is the last time I checked, this dead site was not completely inert.

Spambots in their mindless, relentlessly insectile way were slowly filling it up with fake-cheerful salutations. Mechanically excreting ads and a sliver of text about “Really liking your blog” and then scuttling on.

For reasons I can’t quite explain I find that particular image thoroughly unnerving, and I am quite aware that the very same technology that's been a boon to my family made this scenario possible and delivered it into my head.

What a strange world it has become.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Sunday Morning Comin’ Down Part I.


Who says Fitzmas comes but once a year?

It's apparently more of a pagan holiday. A solsticey or equinoxical kinda dealie.

Read on and see for yourself in this rare Sunday Mornin' dip into the warm, gray waters of the print media.

But this exception has a purpose. Oh my yes it does...

Another Grand Jury for Leak Case
Move Follows Woodward Talks

By Carol D. Leonnig and Jim VandeHei
Washington Post Staff Writers
Saturday, November 19, 2005; A01

The prosecutor in the CIA leak case said yesterday that he plans to present evidence to another federal grand jury, signaling a new and potentially significant turn in the investigation into the unmasking of CIA operative Valerie Plame.

Three weeks after indicting I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby and declaring the investigation nearly complete, Special Counsel Patrick J. Fitzgerald announced a new phase in the investigation after the disclosure this week that a senior administration official revealed Plame's CIA connection to Washington Post Assistant Managing Editor Bob Woodward in mid-June 2003.

Legal experts said Fitzgerald's decision to call upon a new grand jury is all but certainly because he is considering additional criminal charges in the case.
...

So this morning at the Mouse Circus we witnessed another seasonal and time-honored Fitzmas tradition, because really, what is Fitzmas without the imbibing of the traditional holiday intoxicants, the merry carnal romping of good little Liberal boys and girls in many exciting configurations...and the rerunning of a Holiday Classic on Every Fucking Channel until it's beaten to aspic and served up as the traditional Fitzmas Pudding.

Today it was All Rummy, All The Time.

or

"It's a Rumderful Life."


And of course, like the "Condi Horror Picture Show", these well-remembered lines from this family classic have become such a part of our national culture that you -- the home viewer -- should feel free to shout along in the privacy of your domicile, or yurt, or in the 802.11 camaraderie of your local beer-vending WiFi hotspot.

Here we find the hapless George Failey talking to his Vice President, desperately looking for someone on whom he dump the blame for his "crisp" and catastrophically stupid decisions.

George: I've heard of things like this. You've got me in some kind of a spell, or something. Well, I'm going to get out of it. I'll get out of it. I know how, too. I'm gonna have a coupla dozen Martinis!


Here, George tries to wheedle "Nick the Bartender" into giving him more free drinks, and who George inexplicably keeps insisting on calling "Mandate".

The bartender is masterfully portrayed by the American Public,

while Dick Cheney puts in his usual, workmanlike performance as George's "Guardian Enforcer".

Public: And that's another thing. Where do you come off calling me "Mandate"?

George: Well, "Mandate", tha..that's your name.

Public: What's that got to do with it? I don't know you from Gannon's trollop ass.

(pause)

Public: Hey! Hey, you, Rummy there! Come here! Come here! Didn't I tell you never to come chickenhawking around here, huh?

George: Don! Don Rumsfeld! What...what is he... Rummy! This is George Failey. Don't you know me?

Rummy: Fuck No!

George: Hey, Mandate, Mandate...Isn't that Don Rumsfeld, my Secretary of Defense?

Public: You know, that's another reason for me not to like you. That lying, incompetent Neocon fucked up this war and got thousands of our kids killed. If you know him, you must be a war criminal yourself.

Public: Voters, would you show these idiots to the door?


And then there is the seminal cinematic scene (turning alliteration switch off now) when George confronts Dick

and desperately roots around like a truffle hog for some alibi -- ANY alibi -- that will let him skate.

Hey, maybe it's all just a dream!
Dick: You've been given a great gift, George...a chance to see what the world would be like with you as the worst President in the history of the United States.

George:
Now wait a minute here. Wait a minute here. Aw, this is some sort of a funny dream I'm having here. So long, Mister, I-I'm going on vacation.

Dick:
Vacation? What vacation? Listen dumbass, you're in the middle of a war that you started and that you're losing. You think people are going to stand for you flaking off out at Rancho Tipple ever again?

George:
Now shut up! Cut it out. You're... You're... You're crazy. That's what I think. You're...You're screwy and you're driving me crazy, too! I'm popular. People love me. My poll ratings are...are...are...like 80%. I'm going to Crawford and I'm taking a six month rest. And Condi'll be there! And Karen! And Harriet! You understand that?
And you're not invited!

Dick: Zip your Jim Beam-hole, Junior, and let me think or I'll smack that dry-drunk smirk right off your face.

Again.

(Part II continued on next post...)

Sunday Morning Comin’ Down Part II.


In which Rummy makes more guest appearances than Albert Brooks doing "The Simpsons".

Today it was the Don Rumsfeld solo tour, and what made it dizzying was that Rummy didn't just hop from venue to venue making the same arguments... to three decimal places it was exactly the same fucking stump speech.

It was remarkable in its own way. Sometime last night he got his clip loaded up with his Five Big Points and literally all he did was ponce from network to network, making almost exactly the same declamations over and over again, using the same inflection, and shoehorning the same market-tested phrases into the response to whatever the question happened to be.

That's "response" not "answer", because Rum Tum Tigger just categorically refused to answer a single direct, specific question with anything remotely approaching a direct answer. It even made Chris Wallace on the Fox Knocking Shoppe a little snitty, which takes some doing considering that Fox is to Neocons as...

A) Slop is to Swine.
B) Coulter-lips are to McCarthy-taint.
C) "Knock" is to Count Orlok.
D) All of the above.

Twas eerie. Unnatural. Like watching a tribble growl at a comely Vulcan.

So I might as well start with Fox: that's where Big Don first laid down the Anti-Lincoln Logs that he then spent the rest of the day lightly rearranging in front of other cameras.

We learned that we should not be paying attention to any of the previous mile-markers -- or the staggering and steadily escalating cost in lives and treasure, or the intractability of the insurgency -- but only to the political process, which is Goin' Just Super!

Wallace then asked the key question.

There were only 800, Level-One-trained Iraqi troops in September, or one battalion, which, for those keeping score at home, was a figure that proved without doubt that the Administration had been lying about that particular detail for, oh, a couple of years now. But really, for a White House this completely "tettered and barked about" with lies on every subject, at every level of detail, is anyone surprised anymore? These men who use to get so exercised over Bill Clinton's haircuts?

So there was a mere single battalion of Level One troops, and a mere 29,000 Level Two Iraqi troops as of September, and Wallace wanted to know if that number had improved.

In other words, simple arithmetic.

To which the SecDef came back with his now tired, hagged-out, Rum-Fu doubletalk and tried his most powerful Five Point Exploding Truth techniques on this most obsequious of interviewers.

And it didn't work.

Uh oh.

Wallace, in fact, kept trying to steer his liege back to the subject of specificity without breaking the skin, until Rummy finally just insisted that looking at "raw numbers" was pointless.

"Look instead into my eyes, America. Deeeeep into my eyes..."

On other words, no, there hasn't been any progress whatsoever but I'm far, far too gutless to admit that in public.

Until approximately 1.3 seconds later when the subject came to drawing down troops, at which point The Abstractioner of Defense was suddenly all about the hard numbers.

Oh in case you wanted to know, continuing the meme that there is Nothing Extraordinarily Awful Going On Here, Rummy explained that those criticizing Iraq were just like those who criticized World War II, Korea and Vietnam. He might have also mentioned Desert Storm.

Then came a citation from Churchill about not whether or not we can win the war, but being "allowed to win" the war. Cue stock footage of GOP torchlight rallies ten years from now when Jenna and Not Jenna are ranting Coulter-style about being "stabbed in the back" by the Liberals. Which is why Dear Father (now seen only in profile, in dim light, with voice-over narration) could not win the Great Patriotic War in Iraq.

And speaking of Jenna and Not Jenna...

Rummy used his Weirding Witch, more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger voice to say to Americas who dared to call Dear Leader's unalloyed brilliance into question, "put yourself in the shoes of the soldier..." and I for one applaud his call for Jenna and Not Jenna -- AWA all of the sons and daughters of privilege who have touted this grotesque misadventure from the start -- to immediately put themselves "in the shoes of the soldier" and volunteer for infantry duty in Iraq.

Tomorrow morning. 9:00.

Bravo, Rummy! Bravo!

He also conjugated the word "precipitous" several different times today.

That's a big word, isn't it?

p-r-e-c-i-p-i-t-o-u-s.

And lest he commit another "disassembling" embarrassment in front of a billion people, perhaps the White House staff should bring the Bicycle Chief up to speed as to it's meaning. So to help out, here are two handy definitions of the root of that Very Big Word from this site:
1. Moving rapidly and heedlessly; speeding headlong.

2. Acting with or marked by excessive haste and lack of due deliberation. See synonyms at impetuous, reckless.

Too bad Rummy hadn't yet developed such a keen interest in not behaving p-r-e-c-i-p-i-t-o-u-s-l-y while he and his henchmen were trying to figure out a way to dupe us into Iraq.

Next up was Middle Ground Joe Biden, who came right out of the box saying that it would be a mistake to pull troops out immediately, but then the recessive presonality of Good Joe Biden took over and did a pretty fair job of punching Darth Agnew's throat out. Biden had his facts, rebuttals, quotes and timelines lined up and blew Cheney's Spiroesque, "No spine, no memory" rant apart like so many fat, slow-moving, pie-crust skeet.

Probably didn't help that Big Dick was dressed as The Penguin when he delivered his latest Fearemiad (driftglass TM) either.

Brit Hume was out, possibly at Dr. Dark's Winter Pandemonium Carnival where, rumor has it, he is the Puppy Jai Alai team captain, so Paul Gigot settled himself into the Dark Throne to slather the proceedings with a more cherubic brand of gall. Much beoaning then ensued as he, Kristol and Wallace eye-blinked "The Stoopid One has Fucked Us All" back and forth to each other in GOP codex.

Later on, when Juan Williams tried to explain that Outing a Spy is Bad, Bill Kristol dismissed Traitorgate as mere gossip and trivia and nonsense. He may have actually waved a dainty kerchief when he said it and made faint truckling noises deep in his throat. I don't know. I was yelling very loud so I may have missed something.

I mean, I supposed when you're a Republican, and you have submitted to your Party's mandatory conscience-ectomy, everything becomes tactical. Death, lies, treason, ruin, debt...all just variables to be factored into an equation to calculate the means to politically advantageous ends. Which begs the question, if you have no conscience or ethical foundation to begin with -- if you dismiss everything no matter how tragic or destructive as "just polices" -- from exactly what moral high ground do you get the fucking nerve to criticize anyone else?

About anything?

On Face the Nation, Senator Dodd noted that Rummy had made something like 14 appearances on Sunday Morning talk shows, but had not yet deigned to put in an appearance on Dodd's oversight committee, despite the fact that he had been invited by the chairman. Firmly and repeatedly.

Rummy appeared -- on maybe it was just a holographic apparition replicating of his Fox performance. Not a dime's worth of difference between the two.

George Will was also dressed in his dour-rags, sad that there was no "domestic echo of this war." No sacrifice. No sense of centrality to our lives. He's right, and damned well knows the cure for such ennui could begin in earnest tomorrow with Jenna at Not Jenna reporting to boot camp and urging other of their caste to follow suit. And with the President announcing a war tax to help pay for, among other things, the body armor that our troops still do not have in sufficient quantity.

But he also must know that will never happen: Elitist Republicans don''t "do" sacrifice, and they are only brave with the blood of other people's children.

Fareed Zakaria noted that Rummy was a "potted plant on this show." And he was right. In case I wasn't clear, Rummy's tour today was a disaster. Unmitigated. And as Fareed further noted, Rumsfeld took absolutely no responsibility for anything.

Martha Radditz went even further, all-but-mocking the Preznit's comments that he deferred to the "sober judgment" of the commanders on the ground. Calling sub-vocally for someone to Please For God's Sake Explain to The Stoopid Man Running The Country that the military obeys civilian authority. That his job is to set policy, and theirs is to execute it, and not the other way around.

And that "Win, goddamn-it!" is a wish and not a policy.

It was, in other words, just another day of the same lies, slime and the arrant cowardice of hiding behind the military that has become de rigeur for these creatures.

Rummy was everywhere, tracking his shit across every network, and triggering the same disgusted blowback, except on the Chris Matthews Show, which featured Maureen Dowd (looking very, uh, good), Kathleen Parker, David Brooks and Howard Feinman,

And my, my, my weren't the clattering sound of the nails of certain Neocon Rats clearly audible clicking on the deckplates, scampering like hell for the life rafts as the rapidly sinking USS Dubya breaks deep and begins taking on serious water (hat-tip to Gordon Lightfoot.)

Brooks, saying that the "stay the course" nonsense was essentially ...political nonsense.

Parker saying that Bush is a "terrible communicator" who offers nothing but "stale platitudes" that no one believes anymore.

Yikes! While the cat's safely away in Asia, how the mice do slip out of their shock collars, get drunk on whatever they can pry out of the green room minibar and talk a lot of smack about what pussies felines are?!

This was strikingly (and, I would be willing to bet, deliberately) contrasted by a piece on what a Hunka Hunka Burnin' Justice Pat Fitzgerald is (and Ye of Little Faith were wondering how this was all going to get tied back to where Part One of this opus began a million words ago: Fitzmas. Don't worry; it's quite true I often take a scenic route, but I usually have a rough map in my head and with a little celestial navigation I almost always get where I mean to go. Eventually.) and another segment about what a quietly noble man Bill Clinton has become, but the program had ended thematically a few minutes earlier when MoDo pegged a beautiful fastball on the intelligence suppression efforts of the White House.

Specifically taking them to the woodshed not for the Nuclear Lie, or the AQ Link Lie, but for aggressively burying every scrap of evidence that the fall of Iraq would be followed by a violent insurgency.

Matthews: Deliberately?

MoDo: Yeah. Because they wanted to go to war.

Which I think sums up this tragic clusterfuck perfectly.

Friday, November 18, 2005

What elephants?


I don't see any elephants.

Republican commentor "Lex" raises the following:

One cautionary note, which, given that I'm a Republican, you might be suspicious of, but what the hey: It now looks as if indicted lobbyist Jack Abramoff may be taking not only some GOP Congressional leaders but also Reid and other Democrats down with him.

And if that happens? Democrats have to throw Reid an anvil. Otherwise, you're no better than the crowd now running things.


OK, Lex, pop quiz:

Q: What are the first three words out of the the pie hole of every fucking Republican whose party gets caught en masse fucking the family dog, waging an illegal war while looting the treasury?

A: "B-b-b-but the Democrats..."

So why exactly are you people such pussies?

Is it some kind of congenital defect that makes the GOP cower like puling children when it comes to policing the degenerate liars that run your Party, but you happily will bring down the whole fucking government over blowjobs?

See, Lex, it's people just like you that your Party of God relies on to aid and abet them in their criminal, hateful, ruinous behavior...because they know with perfect certainty that a Republican rank-and-filer will always put Party ahead of country.

I mean, don't you get tired of knowing that the men you elect think of you as chumps? Rubes kept scared so stupid of non-existent Evil Liberals in the press and in the Congress that you will actually vote to have you own dick slowly ground off with a belt sander rather than wake up and look at your Party leadership with unclouded eyes, and then act on what you see.

I have no idea what your background is, but by-and-large I have found it safe to assume that anyone still self-identifying as a Republican after the last five years is either suffering from some rare tropical fever that radically diminishes one's IQ or they believe Jesus personally tells them which underpants to buy and which people to despise. Or maybe the thought of being in the same Party as all those brown people just makes their flesh crawl.

Whichever, I'll make this reeeeally simple:

Remember Bill Clinton?

Remember eight years of peace and prosperity and surpluses?

Remember how eight years of peace and prosperity and surpluses drove you people absolutely barking, ass-chomping berserk with rage?

Remember how you hated it enough that your Party spend seven years and God alone knows how many tens of millions on smear campaigns, outright lies and a partisan hack of a Special Persecutor who was God Damned Well gonna get Bill Clinton no matter what he had to do or who he had to destroy to do it?

Remember the illegal daily leaks that came out of the Starr whorehouse, just in time for the news-cycle and always embarrassing to Clinton?

Remember the endless investigations and hearings and headlines?

Remember Newt Gingrich and his "LIttle Red GOP Phrase Book"?

Remember Rush-rooms full of bile-drunk Australopithecine Republicans?

Remember Party Leader Jerry Falwell pimping the "Vince Foster Suicide Conspiracy" tapes?

And having laid waste to respectful public discourse as a matter of strategy – of pure Republican Party partisan policy -- remember how you fucktards wandered around in the rubble you had created and wondered why people weren’t playing nice any more?

See, it is a primary Republican characteristic that you have no problem with a Neocon or a Christopath pounding the shit out of a feminist or a homosexual or a Liberal or an environmentalist or an African American…as long as the beating is one-sided and the victim just curls up and takes it. You Party gibbers and dances and Turn Rush Up Louder. But Republicans are also basically gutless, so when they victim pops up off the mat and takes the fight to you, Republicans freak right out.

Suddenly you grab up your skirts, leap up on the table, and in a falsetto high enough to shatter the skulls of mice on the opposite side of the planet you keen that Liberals and hateful and Liberals are mean and Liberals won’t cooperate anymore.

Well if you want to shut all of us Mean Liberals up, it’s really incredibly simple...because you yourself Very Loudly set the standard for your own fucking behavior just seven short years ago..

Your Party of moral jellyfish were the ones who ran for office as the Party of Personal Responsibility.

Your President is a simp that has no qualifications for the job of President whatsoever

You're the Party that straps Liberty across the sawhorse and ass-rape her, while telling her that that she won't catch nuthin' because you have the Flag and the Robe of Christ wrapped around your diseased wang.

You're the Party that uses "je-heee-sus" as punctuation in your long oratorios about how Righteous and Wonderful you are, and how my crew is controlled by feminazis and blowjobbers and those awful, AWFUL people that keep insisting that Dubya and his junta tell the simple truth about the Iraqi horror show they have visited on us.

All of the “good” Republicans jndeed to do to shut people like me the hell up is to take a year off and actually act like a Party of Personal Responsibility. Actually bring the criminals that run your Party to book. Actually get mad at them for what they have done, and own up to the fact that you were a fool for believing them.

Demand that the criminals go to jail and the ginners-up-of war and the outers-of-spies be shot, or at least rot in Graybar hell for the rest of their despicable lives.

Demand that the Christopaths hit the fucking road. Tell them that there is no place in the Party of Lincoln for their kind of despicable, Wahabi perversion of genuine Christianity.

Demand that the bigots and Segregationists hit the road too. Tell them there is no place in a Party founded in opposition to slavery for slavery’s mutant grand children.

See the thing is, you won!! Yay!!!! You’ve got the courts, the Congress, the White House and most of the Governor’s Mansions. You ran the table, which makes you responsible.

Can you say that?

R-E-S-P-O-N-S-I-B-L-E.

That means you decide, and shit happens. And when that shit also happens to hit the fan, do you even realize what miserable, cowardly little bitches you sound like when you scamper all the way back to 1994 and try to hide behind Bill Clinton.

Prove up...or prove to the world, once and for all, that Republicans are simply unfit to govern.

To loot, yes.

Lie, slime, kneecap, whimper, fuck up, play with your Peter Principle ‘til it falls off, mispronounce nuclear…yes.

Call Democrats traitors for asking any tough questions before you drunk-walked us into the greatest foreign policy disaster in U.S. history…and then call them traitors for not assuming you were treasonous liars and asking even tougher questions now that Dear Leader has stranded us in Iraq…yes.

But unless you stand up like grownups and actually act on all your pretty rhetoric, you show your ass to the rest of humanity and all of history that you really are basically stupid children who think if you vote for the sun to never rise and reveal your sins in the cold morning light, then somehow no bright day of reckoning will ever come.

So do these things -- toss out the thugs and the bigots and the Falwells and the Dobsons, the Limbaughs the Santorums, the Hannitys and the Coulters, the Robertsons and the DeLays -- toss out all the shambling beasts and ambulatory disease vectors that infest and control the GOP...and the five of you that are left in the Party of Lincoln can come around here and bathe me in cavil lecture on the proper behavior and priorities of Liberals all day long.

And I will sit patiently and listen and smile and nod.

Hell, for that I'll take the day off of work and buy the first round.