The Princess and the P-E

[Cynthia McKinney] called on President-elect Obama to address the Gaza crisis, saying the weapons being used by Israel were supplied by the United States.

"Help me, Obee-ama, you're my only ---"
"Nope."

Waiting for Sleep

.

Waiting for Sleep

The circus has folded
but sometimes (at night)
    dented trumpets erupt
    and the ringmaster waves
    a lion's path of ringed fire.
    Weary of solo encagement,
    the hesitant beast falters; gathers;
    then plunges unburned through the blaze.

The theatre has closed
but sometimes (at night)
    a swirling-gowned singer dissolves
    in pearly arias to clouds of applause
    from an enthralled audience,
    numberless.

The war is ended
but sometimes (at night)
    aurora-draped skies descend
    and officers trudge waning
    armies to vanished battlefields.

Patience? Don't Get Me Started

Patience? Don't Get Me Started

It don't count
(nowattamean, Verne?)
because too one don't
>>>>>>>>make aright.

But dammit ! --
>>>>betty wouldn't purge>>>>>>>and
>>>>linda couldn't change>>>>>>>and
>>>>cynthia pitcairn don't
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>validate ticking parkets.

So
>>>>none of it counted.
Problem is, Verne, the
>>>game god damn overs
>>>whether it counts

>>>>or

>>>>not.

At the Fair

---Christmas, 1984

At the Fair.

At this summer's fair,
I asked an attendant if,
being at the head of the line at last,
I might ride the next train
of his roller coaster.

Was I sure I wanted to? he asked,
as this ride was known for high
acceleration, breathtaking plunges,
and being impossible to control
once underway.

Having survived lesser rides,
I assured him I was ready.

Then he laughed and told me
I had been for some time in the last car
of the already departed train,
having no choice anyway.

The rest of his words were lost
in exhilaration as I was
ripped out into the starlight.

The Wisdom of the Web

.

Jesus is actually a confused zombie. He's back from the dead and goes around wanting the rest of the world to eat pieces of him, instead of the other way around.

When the dominant belief system, permeating every sector of our lives, claims it is wounded because of the machinations of unbelievers, they rival only holocaust-deniers, and possibly O.J., for sheer disconnect from reality. They invalidate themselves as rational beings.

"Orlando, you can't be a pilgrim. The pilgrims had snowy white skin to match their pure Christian souls. They didn't sacrifice coconuts to their monkey gods." -- Probably from Jerri Blank in "Strangers with Candy."

Believing in Santa is just a trial run with positive reinforcement for believing in Jesus.

And finally, from the proprietor of this blog, happy football-every-day?-I-love-it to you.

_Now that I can dance?

.

"_Now that I can dance?"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>cracks)
craze crash, craggly
jaggeding over winter freezelock
>>>>>>>>>>>on warm water below.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Above,
sharp shiny songshards
sho
>>>wer the lifejoy of
>>new nurturlings.

Come tell me darling --
Is it really spring ?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>(everywhere?

The Courting-by-snail-mail Blues

.

I worry each let
ter from my love to your life,
Impatiently dreaming its flight;

but it's no delicious
an
ti
ci
pa
tion! there's a soft leaden
>>>>>>>>>tail on this kite

Impos
sibly waiting for forever someday
entangled in thickets of how,
I need you
<<<<<I need you
>>>>>>>>>>I need you
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>I need you
Now!

When up on the roof there arose such a clatter...

When up on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I drained my last Schlitz, turned off Clyde McPhatter.
Then what to my bloodshot eyes did appear,
But a Jeep Cherokee, on my bed, in first gear.

The King of Tobacco Road

.

King of the [Tobacco] Road

Senate for sale or rent,
Car-ousel guver-mint.
Hoping for change and yet
Clinton's old crones we get.
Ah, but two years of ridin' herd
Where budget is a dirty word
Leaves a prez of means by no means,
Better we lost.

Sharpton and Kennedy dine out

.
"Ya know, Kay-r0-line, we got us enough pitchers of liquid on this table to float a Oldsmobile."
"Is that some kind of Chappaquiddick crack?"
"Whaddyou know about crack, baby momma?"
"I know a crack's what you got your fanny in over Tawana Brawley."
"Oh yeah? Well crack-uh me this, cracker. Don't be putting the Doritos back into the basket after you done be touchin' 'em all up."
"I'm not putting a Dorito back, you idiot. I'm going for the handgun under the garlic toast."
"You oughtta luck, ofay. The chef be's a homie o' mine, and he done put that istolpay down the ashtray."
"Ashtray? Trash don't come out too good in pig latin, does it Al?"
"Little white trash like you won't come out too good without my peeps stuffin' the ballot box for you neither."
"Uh...."
"That's right. Now, pass me the sugar."
"One lump or two?"

Upon reading the last will and testament

.

"Your dad left you something in his will."
"Alright! What is it?"
"It's a credit card..."
"Oh, boy. I'll buy me a..."
"...it's maxed out."
"Really? What did he buy me with it?"
"A bunch of union jobs."
"Why? I already have a job."
"Union jobs for other guys."
"I don't get it."
"That's right. You just pay for it."

Why gas prices are so low (it's global warming)

FoxNews says:

WASHINGTON — More than 2 trillion tons of land ice in Greenland, Antarctica and Alaska have melted since 2003, according to new NASA satellite data that show the latest signs of what scientists say is global warming.

Consider the loss of that trillions of tons of weight. The planet, released from the mass of it, is swelling outwards, thinning below the mantle. The resultant low pressure underground will suck down oil against the pull of oil wells, depleting the refinery tanks, and possibly even emptying your gas tank!

To check this out, I drove my car to the gas station (without refueling) and back to my house. There was less gasoline in my tank than when I left!

Now we know why the price of gas has been going down. The loss of ice is pulling petrol through the pumps BACKWARDS.

On giving Bush the boot

.

This is a poem called Enablers.

Enablers.
Saddam had 'em.

Thank you, thank you.
Try the veal and
invading someone
gratefuller next time.

Season's Greetings

Walken in a winter wonderland

A word before stepping off the reservation

.

Forgive me Father, but I may be about to become devil's advocate by my own lights, and surely the antichrist him/itself in the eyes of certain others. Until something seriously untoward comes along, and as sure as destroyers emerge from their own smokescreens it will, I think the right man for the times is, albeit presumptuously and with the anal retentive faux-gravitas of a toddler commanding a troop of Fisher-Price little people, about to take office.

If the economy is going to be in shreds, industry nationaiized, and another terrorist attack to rattle our chains, how crucial it is that the left be on the field executing the plays instead of booing, second-guessing, and raining bottles down on the sideline.

It's more than the fact that the right had their chance and flubbed it. It's that the left has had too long of neither putting up nor shutting up. I for one welcome our new overlords and only regret we didn't bequeath them a republic of patriots. But I'll do what I can.

Daddy is the new Mommy

.

Daddy is the new mommy.
The OT god of sacrifice
and accountability
has finally given way to...

No more pulling the wagon.
You're all riders now!

The War We Lost

.

America changed right after the Civil War from saying "The United States are" to "The United States is." The nation's gone from compartmented dirigible to the One Big Gas Bag of blimpery, although it took a while. The shift from can-do to "where's mine?" has been lightning fast yet tectonic in nature.

It's been known for centuries that the downfall of democracy is accomplished when the electorate realizes it has the keys to the treasury, aka the other guy's pocketbook. What we've learned since is that the other guy's credit card gives us not only his money but that of his kids and grandchildren to spend right now.

It feels like we've lost a war and are occupied by a vengeful adversary bent on extracting reparations.

Sharing the post-bailout wealth

"Barry, the garbage man's here!"
"Good. Tell him to LEAVE two cans!"

Saddled with a Blazing NY Times

"Gentlemen, our stock lost 70% of its value in seventeen weeks. We've got to do something to protect our phony-baloney jobs. Can I get a huzzah? "
"Hussah!"
"Huzzah."
...
"I didn't get a huzzah from him."
<Whack!> "Huzzah!!!! Don't hit me no more!"
"Alright. Pay attention. Any suggestions, questions? Yeah, you..."
"What's stock got to do with anything? Stock don't feed my mistress's kids."
"It's the Family, Friedman. The class A extended parasi--- Family. They're getting antsy."
"Well, let the government help. They're rescuing everyone else."
"I'm not sure how long we can wait before it's too late to bail out, Maureen."
"What? Bail out? Who are you ... Michael Douglas? Not again!"
"No, Maureen. I mean we need a taxpayer bailout to keep the boat afloat long enough for us to bail out with our brogdingnagian bonuses."
"I know, I know what to do! Let's mortgage the building, float a sinking debenture, collateralize the collating machines, subjunctivinate the subordinated tax-loss carry forward, and unwind the depreciated asset forelamalamadingdong."
"Thank you for that authentic accounting gibberish, Krugman."
"He's right, you know."
"How's that Pinch?"
"Well, we mortgage the building, then drive some route delivery trucks into Washington DC. We go in a' rompin' and a' stompin', bashin' and a' cashin'..."
"...Vibin' and a' bribin'?"
"That's it, Pinch. And then we come out grabbin' and a' stabbin'."
"By George, I think we've got it."

The Bishop Takes a Chance

.

Bishop Paul Loverde of Arlington, Va., had this to say last week about his response if the abortion lobby’s Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA) becomes law:

“I would say, ‘Yeah, I’m not going to close the hospital, you’re going to arrest me, go right ahead. You’ll have to drag me out, go right ahead. I’m not closing this hospital, we will not perform abortions, and you can go take a flying leap.’ ”

What a man. What a mighty man. But wait... from the same article...

There are no Catholic hospitals currently open in Bishop Loverde’s Arlington diocese...

Sigh.

What it wasn't was football.

.

"This is Big Daddy, OJ. He's your cellie."
"Uh, hello, Big Daddy."
"Hello, OJ. You like football?"
"Whew, this isn't going to be as bad as I thought. Yeah, Big Daddy,
I like football. Why do you ask?"
"'Cuz when I see a tight end playing wide receiver, then I'm going deep."
"This isn't about football, is it?"
"Shut up and turn out the light."

The Anti-Fop

Mark Steyn -- "the last non-fop
in the GOP, Sarah Palin."

Estrogen. We has it.

Nixon, now and forever ....

.

More than 2,200 hours of tape recordings from the Nixon White House now are available

Dig it. The heirs of Warren G Harding have managed to keep his personal papers unavailable.

"The Harding-Phillips love letters remain under an Ohio court protective order that expires in 2023, 100 years after Harding's death, after which the content of the letters may be published or reviewed."

Poor Nixon. He's online but Harding's not dead enough.

Ask not whom's the metaphor

driven by the metaphor of George W. Bush."

"Hey! He's a'no metaphor. He's just a' messed up with the sex."
"No, Luigi, that's a hermaphrodite, not a metaphor."
"Hey! I'm a' know my English. Ask a'me what's a metaphor."
"Okay. What's a metaphor?"
"Nothing at all. What's a metaphor you?"