[Note: On the anniversary of their TRYST three years ago,
Bush and McCain are reluctant -- for some reason -- to be
seen together. Monday's GOP speeches, including Bush and
Cheney have now been canceled due to the impending landfall
of Hurricane Gustav at New Orleans, Louisiana.]
Let me start with this: The GOP and their Right Wing Hate Machine put Obama’s church and his pastor on the table, so let’s not quibble that it’s not “cricket” to talk about what follows. If you have problems with the approach, contact that asshole Brian Ross at ABC and let him know how you feel.
from the Wasilla Assembly of God website
i. Speaking in Forked Tongues Continue reading
I awakened, returning from the Land of the Freed Balloons, and there was a thought, no, a conclusion, no, even more than that, a deep conviction that hasn’t altered all day.
Sarah Palins holy roller church
Today, John McCain broke the GOP’s world record for cynicism by picking a breeder Barbie™ doll from Alaska as his running mate.
Gov. Sarah Palin of Alaska
In a grotesque setback for oratory in general and political oratory specifically, Continue reading
It’s the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina taking out New Orleans and a huge chunk of the Gulf Coast between Louisiana and Florida. Bet you’d like a CAKE, John McCain!
Oh, that was the cake that you and Bush paused for three years ago TODAY. Maybe this smaller picture will give you a better reminder (courtesy of streetprophets): Continue reading
According to the last information I have, Bernie Ward is due for sentencing in court in San Francisco today, August 28, 2008.
When more information becomes available, I’ll post it.
UPDATE, 11:57 AM PDT: Here is the story at KGO in San Francisco, where Bernie used to be a talk show host:
Bernie Ward sentenced to 87 months
Thursday, August 28, 2008 | 11:42 AM Continue reading
And there will be no blog, as we have plans that preclude the writing time normally accorded this blog.
If you don’t know what “ratfucking” is, read yesterday’s post. It’s OK. I’ll wait right here until you get back.
Today’s kindergarten bullying insult is “I know you are but what am I?”
And today is anti-officially, according to Recreate ’68,
Tuesday – No Racism/Imperialism
So, today we will studiously avoid commenting on a bunch of white lefties protesting the nomination of the nation’s first black presidential candidate. (After all, it’s “No Racism/Imperialism” Day.)
We begin today’s ADULT LANGUAGE themed posting on a strange, ironic note: Continue reading
All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? Step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around. We’ve got you taped; you’re in the play.
Here’s your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank; ours the interest and we thank
The ice-cream lady wets her drawers, to see you in the passion play.
Ian Anderson, “Passion Play,” Jethro Tull (© Chrysalis® 1973)
One can’t sugarcoat feces and make it any less palatable. So, for obvious reasons: Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics.
i. What it is, how it came to be named and who it were what done did it Continue reading
There is a political point in this, so don’t let the math scare you. There won’t be any pop quiz.
I took an awful lot of math in high school and university. Fourier Series and L’Hopital’s Rule and Fibonacci Series, and suchlike. But the best math lesson I got was from my father, who’d picked it up from other engineers (he built roads for the Forest Service).
Engineering math is a DIFFERENT way at looking at mathematics, which was – aside from the fun stuff, like learning how to draw an impossible triangle from the “fun” section of yet another unreadable math textbook — always a little anal about delineating with precision the SOLUTION to the problem. And in using standardized and formalized methods. Continue reading
The big story is, of course, the perfectly stage-managed “who is it?” media frenzy that the Obama campaign whipped up for the Democratic Convention. (It’s Joe Biden, but then everybody knows that now). The Veepstakes, as media has now dullardly dubbed it. Continue reading
Once upon a time, Mark Twain tells us‡, there was:
THE WOUNDED SOLDIER.
In the course of a certain battle a soldier whose leg had been shot off appealed to another soldier who was hurrying by to carry him to the rear, informing him at the same time of the loss which he had sustained; whereupon the generous son of Mars, shouldering the unfortunate, proceeded to carry out his desire. The bullets and cannon-balls were flying in all directions, and presently one of the latter took the wounded man’s head off–without, however, his deliverer being aware of it. In no-long time he was hailed by an officer, who said:
“Where are you going with that carcass?”
“To the rear, sir–he’s lost his leg!”
“His leg, forsooth?” responded the astonished officer; “you mean his head, you booby.”
Whereupon the soldier dispossessed himself of his burden, and stood looking down upon it in great perplexity. At length he said:
“It is true, sir, just as you have said.” Then after a pause he added, “But he TOLD me IT WAS HIS LEG! ! ! ! !”
Here, I will subvert Twain, whose intention was to explain how humor works, and redirect your attention to the WHY of the joke’s “funny”: The reality is that the soldier is carrying a headless corpse. But the soldier’s reality derives entirely from his LINGUISTIC description of reality. Continue reading