Dead but still angry
Dead Breitbart will guest on Sean Hannity’s Festival O’Necrophilia tonight, evidently. And pawing through the coffin, the displaced of Breitbart DOT Com released this hilarous exercise in utter lack of self-awareness: Continue reading
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The depths of hatred and rage within the former Party of Lincoln (now the Party of Strom) never cease to amaze.
Just think of it: in defense of “free speech” they go on a jihad against everyone else’s free speech.
I thought I’d tune in to Limbaugh to see how he’s dealing with things, and I was richly rewarded. Between 9:24 and 9:42 PST, he bounced between thoughts like a pinball, lighting up the bumpers. But in topsy-turvyland, you can read between the lines. Here’s a transcript from memory: Continue reading
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Why the milk of human kindness curdled with this crowd.
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Evidently you CAN fool some people all the time
Three Webrings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Red States where the Shadows lie.
One Webring to rule them all,
One Webring to find them,
One Webring to bring them all
and in the darkness bind them
In the Red States where the Shadows lie.
(with apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien)
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Jabberwocky
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two!
And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, hast though slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
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