Showing posts with label roundup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roundup. Show all posts

Thursday, December 27, 2018

The 2018 Jon Swift Roundup Is Here!

Image result for fireworks gif


Many thanks to Batocchio who does yeoman's work every year putting together the best of the Small Blogs as chosen by the bloggers themselves.  Great, incisive, funny, touching reads await you!  A cool drink in the desert of arid internet stupid to slake your thirst.  

What are you still doing here?


Sunday, December 28, 2014

Sunday Morning Comin' Down



You see, in my trade, this is called - what you did - you cracked out of turn. Huh? You see? You crumbed the play.

-- House of Games
This was the week that Chuck Todd cracked out of turn and answered the Big Question: Why do corporate Dremels like Chuck Todd let Republicans roll him every fucking week? Why does he let monsters use his program as their bidet by lending the public airwaves and the tattered credibility of "Meet the Press" to serial liars and frauds over and over and over again?

Well, it turns out that we in the despised Liberal blogosphere were once again right all along. The reason Conservative liars and monsters get away with murdering the truth week after week -- live and on national teevee -- is that if any of the hosts of American's major network Sunday Gasbag Conclaves ever called the liars and the monsters out...or if those hosts fail to meticulously balance out actual Conservative atrocities with imaginary Liberal atrocities (see "Sides, Both"), they will hurt the delicate fee-fees of the liars and the monsters, and they and their friends won't come over to Luke Russert's Dad's Basement to play no more (no transcript available as of this writing):
We all sit there, because we all know, the first time we bark is the last time that they do the show. You say something, and sometimes it is last time they will ever come on your show. There is that balance.
Here's the video (h/t Heather at Crooks and Liars):




Our media is broken because people like Chuck Todd would rather make a very good living sucking up to monsters 


than a less-than-lavish living using their constitutionally-sanctified profession to do the hard job of digging out the truth of things and bringing that truth to the people.

Because now that Roger Ailes has succeeded in creating a vast and extremely profitable Conservative Alternate Reality Propaganda Machine on the graves of Edward Murrow and Walter Cronkite, Chuck Todd needs the indulgence of liars and the monsters far more than they need him.

And all he has to do to stay in their good graces is to sell the rest of us out, one lie at at time, week after week after week.

It must be quite a thing to both preside over the death of one's own profession and to provide running, self-pitying commentary on it's execution even as you help to bang the last nails into its gibbet.  But I'm sure, at the end of the day, in the silence of his own thoughts, Chuck Todd has several million reasons to tell himself that he is doing the right thing, both for Chuck Todd and for the rest of Murrica.

Because, after all, we're a family:




Oh, and in case you were keeping score at home, you can add infamous liar, Weekly Standard hack, Iraq war architect and official biographer for Vice President Richard Cheney, Stephen F. Hayes --
[Hayes] is well known for his writings postulating an operational relationship between Saddam Hussein's Iraq and the al-Qaeda terrorist organization. He wrote, for example, "there can no longer be any serious argument about whether Saddam Hussein's Iraq worked with Osama bin Laden and al Qaeda to plot against Americans." Hayes authored a book on this subject entitled: The Connection: How al Qaeda's Collaboration with Saddam Hussein has Endangered America [ISBN 0-06-074673-4]. His major source was a leaked memo from Undersecretary of Defense for Policy Douglas J. Feith to the U.S. Congress on 27 October 2003.
-- to the list of unreconstructed Bush regime dead-enders who now draw a paycheck from Fox News.


For a much more satisfying use of your valuable time, check out Batocchio's monumental 2014 Jon Swift Memorial Roundup (The Best Posts of the Year, Chosen by the Bloggers Themselves).

This is a tradition started by the late Jon Swift/Al Weisel, who was a fine writer and big believer in small blogs. Each year, Batocchio undertakes the Herculean task of gathering the Best of the Smalls and linking them all under one roof. There is nothing else like it anywhere, and, in addition to being a terrific source of great reading material for you lazy bastids all together and tied up with a bow, it is also a breath of living nostalgia, reminding us who were there when blogging was young of the vibrant chaos that the blogosphere used to be before the Great Stratification.

He's a good egg, Batocchio is, and he has my sincere thanks for doing this amazing thing.



PS: I am woefully behind on my correspondence, so I apologize to all of you who have been patiently waiting on my tardy replies.



Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Today, All Respect to Batocchio













Who once again did the yeoman's work of herding us notoriously flinchy bloggers together long enough to create this year's "Jon Swift Memorial Roundup".

Which, as Batocchio (of Vagabond Scholar) reminds us, is a:
...tradition started by the much missed Jon Swift/Al Weisel. He left behind some excellent satire, but was also a nice guy and a strong supporter of small blogs. As Lance Mannion puts it:
Our late and much missed comrade in blogging, journalist and writer Al Weisel, revered and admired across the bandwidth as the “reasonable conservative” blogger Modest Jon Swift, was a champion of the lesser known and little known bloggers working tirelessly in the shadows...

One of his projects was a year-end Blogger Round Up. Al/Jon asked bloggers far and wide, famous and in- and not at all, to submit a link to their favorite post of the past twelve months and then he sorted, compiled, blurbed, hyperlinked and posted them on his popular blog. His round-ups presented readers with a huge banquet table of links to work many of has had missed the first time around and brought those bloggers traffic and, more important, new readers they wouldn’t have otherwise enjoyed.

It may not have been the most heroic endeavor, but it was kind and generous and a lot of us owe our continued presence in the blogging biz to Al.

Excluding blogging, catching up with my long-overdue pile of correspondence and "Thank You" notes is my required writing through the end of the year.

And reading every single one of the posts Batocchio has compiled and offered up for our pleasure is my required reading.

Dive in and begin enjoying this embarrassment of riches here.

And don't forget to mind your manners and say "Thanks".

Friday, September 21, 2007

A little roundup


To ease you on into the weekend, pards.

Because sometimes I need a posse.

And sometimes all I need is my rifle, my pony and...

Minstrel Boy sharing a moving and eloquent story of finding wisdom where we usually find it: in the most unusual places, standing next to the most unexpected people.

Riverbend brought to us via Brilliant at Breakfast finding that through our Dear Leader’s worship of Ares, we have conjured another ancient plague and visited it on the nation of Iraq.
File under: Cholera in the Time of Rove.


Spocko continuing to show what one Alert Citizen with a laser pointer can do to focus public attention on what truly evil filth pukes up out of wingnut radio every single day under the fedora of “entertainment: and “opinion” programming.

Gives me an idea. We have this local station called WIND. Hmmm. Watch this space.

DC Media Girl returning from wherever it was that she went. One assumes secret hero stuff and that various shadow villains have been discreetly dispatched to the Phantom Zone. If you know otherwise and it comes in the form of a more pedestrian alternative explanation, cork it.

Or do you want Big Al Pushkin coming around and kicking your ass?

“The illusion which exalts us is dearer to us then ten-thousand truths.”

-- Alexander Pushkin



Dating

explained. (from this larger post)


I am biased. I know it.

But with LowerManhattanite, Sara Robinson, "Doc" Wendel and Hubris Sonic firing on all cylinders and raining funny and wise and brilliant and hell-ayshus doom from above, one cannot help but note that the Group News Blog has well and truly arrived.

Of course now the trick is to keep dancing.

‘Cause baby, sometimes it feels

just like this (footage secretly taken at the Blogger's Breakfast at YearlyKos.)


And other times

more like so.


Yowza, yowza :-)

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Driftglass’ Blog Roundup


A little different than other roundups you may be familiar with.

Prototype Only.

Not for internal consumption.

May cause itching, tinnitus, distended adjective and conniptions.

This week...

Acquainted with the Night

by Robert Frost
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.


I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Driftglass’ Blog Roundup


Different that other roundups you may be familiar with.

Prototype Only.

Not for internal consumption.

May cause itching, tinnitus, distended adjective and conniptions.

This week...

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

By Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

COME my tan-faced children,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!



Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!



We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within,
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come,
Pioneers! O pioneers!



Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood intervein’d,
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern
,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult, I am rapt with love for all,
Pioneers! O pioneers!



Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress (bend your heads all),
Raise the fang’d and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon’d mistress,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter,
Ages back in ghostly millions frowning there behind us urging
,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


On and on the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill’d,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill’d,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


All the pulses of the world,
Falling in they beat for us, with the Western movement beat,
Holding single or together, steady moving to the front, all for us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


Life’s involv’d and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen,
all the masters with their slaves,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


Lo, the brother orbs around, all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind,
We to-day’s procession heading, we the route for travel clearing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!



O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


(Shrouded bards of other lands, you may rest, you have done your work,)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious,
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock’d and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground,
Pioneers! O pioneers!


Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged nodding on our way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


Far, far off the daybreak call—hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind,
Swift! to the head of the army!—swift! spring to your places,





UPDATE: Welcome Crooks & Liars personages. There's beer in the fridge and I dug a fresh latrine out back.