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De-fund the parade

By Owen Paine on Thursday April 12, 2007 05:14 PM

Tax time approaches, and like spring itself, it awakens something ghastly about all this renewal. Just as re-budding plants and new chicks are feedstock for yet another year of alpha-predator uncontrolled "dining out", this is Uncle's time to snatch his fifth of our fruits.

This spring is special of course, as we all watch in a variety of nasty moods while our duly elected peace congress, like so many packasses, carry this year's war requistion cloppingly down Penn Ave, braying and planting their front hooves scutteringly for an instant over and over again, like each moment will be the last step -- "I'll go no further" they cry, just before the next step. And it continues, this easter season passion parade, far far longer then the Nazarene's one-off.

Obviously, as Father Smiff tirelessly points out, for the top kicks among the congressional Demitry, all this is the purest charade, the purest "don't throw me in that briar patch" hooey. But hey, it's the art of the possible -- and man is this fraud of a show "possible".

Since this official oppostion to funding the bloodbath in the sand is really an unofficial co-conspiracy, maybe you might try starving the beast in the neo-nazi helmet, by direct action and here's just where to start:


Comments (5)



your humble scribe here will not be part of this worthy tangible gesture

"himself" it seems finds himself in need of "his" fed refund

--ahh what a tartuffe this particular posturing blow-rad
can be --

as the great woody allen said

"my draft status (for the revolution)
is H
only available as a hostage"

I can only hope
if and when my day comes
my confinement
will be as congenial as
that naughty Adolf's 1924 Festungshaft


That web site is totally sign-my-guestbook. Good ideas, but for starters, the webmaster should hit http://bancomicsans.com/

True, this site doesn't look like it's been changed since 1996, but at least it hasn't totally been drinking the Web 2.0 Kool-Aid, and re-made it to look like an early '70s electrical-appliance manual, complete with weak-assed rounded rectangles.


i'd hate to hear you
on "the look" of this site
father smiff
comes from a long line
eary drab age southronians
he prefers a fancy patch of
country fiddlin
to yer
slick city bau haus apples

Up yours, Flugenstein. I totally groove on my rounded rectangles. Goddamn factionalism is RUINING the movement, I tell you. RUINING IT.

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