The Esteemed John Cole inadvertently misspeaks today in Balloon Juice, when he writes:
Make Her Go Away
… Queue the Hillbots to tell me this is just an anonymous smear against Hillary.
A “queue” is a line that you’re waiting IN.
A “cue” is a line that you’re waiting FOR.
Glad we could clear that up.
Cue the music. If you’d like to buy the tune, the queue forms to the left.
Oh, and Happy Birthday, Superman!
Since, as we know, Astrology™ is demonically inspired, nothing could be more apropos to analysis of William F. Buckley’s death vis a vis cycles of Pluto, named after the lord of the Underworld. (Or, Hell, where he undoubtedly is at this very moment.)
As regular readers know, the “mission statement” of this blog has always been to cover a piece of the waterfront that no one else has reported on; generally, if it’s some mundane (from the latin, “mundus” or, literally, “world”) event, like the death of Buckley, that everybody and his half-sister from Carolina is going to blog on, I won’t blog on it. Why bother?
But if there are aspects that nobody seems to be talking about, then I will, and I promise you, Gentle Reader, there’s nobody else karazee enough to use the astrological Pluto Transit as a way of tracing the demonic arc of Bill Buckley’s checquered career. Continue reading
How To NOT Get Elected 101: When you open a debate, make sure you hurl childish and immature accusations in a whiny, paranoid and kindergarten manner. Continue reading
Why won’t he go away and leave decent people alone?
In the least surprising, most pathetic development of the 2008 campaign season, fading contrarian whore Ralph Nader — the best friend that “corporatists” ever had — has entered the presidential sweepstakes, determined to help John McCain get elected.
Fellow holier-than-thou contrarians Alexander Cockburn and Jeffrey Sinclair of CounterPunch are undoubtedly jerking off over their stained commodes even as we speak. After all, Ralph has been publishing his increasingly unhinged jeremiads and rationalizations on their CounterPunch site for several years now. Continue reading
The swiftboating of Obama has been the blood sport of the week.
Disgustapating, to quote Popeye.
What’s worst of all? It’s all TRIVIAL BULLSHIT.
Not a substantive argument in a truckload. Just a lot of minor, petty, Pecksniffian bullshit. Continue reading
I happened to make a comment on an ABC blog, by alleged ‘reporter’ Jake Tapper, who was whining about how Obama started talking Tuesday before Hillary was done (hint: for the second straight week, she ignored the primary altogether, in which case the tradition of letting the loser make their concession speech pretty much has vanished, since the loser is just, in a very real sense, using the “concession” to grab face time in a most impolitic manner and rude). “As was customary,” in this case, seems to be a double standard, since Hillary pissed on “customary,” but Tapper’s opprobrium was reserved exclusively for Obama with nary a word on Hillary’s sleazy move. Continue reading
A long, long time ago…
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.
— Don McLean, “American Pie,” 1971
This is how progressive talk radio dies in Eugene, Oregon: not with a bang, but with a whimper. Continue reading
It is astonishing to me that, as I have watched McCain and now Clinton’s speeches, that I am gripped with an intense sense of déjà vu. Continue reading
Featured on Crooks and Liars.
Well, the San Francisco area media was abuzz this week with the shocking release of the actual police reports featuring transcripts of Bernie Ward’s 2004 AOL chat with someone named “Sexfairy” who turned him in for possession and distribution of child pornography. Continue reading
2008 marks the thirtieth year of my friendship with TOMM, whom I met at the World Fantasy Convention in Fort Worth, Texas, while my first wife and I were covering it for LOCUS Magazine. My first wife is gone, lo, these 28 years, but TOMM and I are still friends. (Just goes to show that what lasts is often not what one THINKS will last.)
While TOMM blogs occasionally in a few select places, mostly he does not (the blogosphere’s loss, IMHO). Continue reading