Stop Me Before I Vote Again

It's been all sharks all the time, has it not?

Personally, I admit to be lulled to sleep for a day or two on the prospects. Clinton in 1992 jumped in his acceptance speech, in which he declared "to the world" that nothing was changing.

Zero actually stole from MLK in his acceptance and continued to sell, even though the deal had been closed.

It took until he started naming staff to see the truth.

I think the leg-humping adoration shown in borborygmi across the pwogwessosphere ("I wept...I shed tears..." Oh, sorry, that's Col. Kurtz) is actually worse than the speech itself. The smug, self-congratulations providing a counterpoint to the piously thematic "we are not worthy" is pretty tough to take.

Of course, I'm an asshole, so there's that.

The link that wasn't there... Worauf beziehen Sie sich?

But I thought this Obama's re-envisionment of horrid religious claptrap sets MJS's heart a 'soaring with cathedral dreams of virtue,as opposed to atheism's whatnots?
This effluvia of egregious ambulance chasing gets Obama the second term, and yet all we have is the ascetic Left proffering the rival saintly vision of Rachel Corrie, or some other martyr.
No one dares to do to Obama what Justin Frank did to the moronic George W., putting his incredible story of demonic ascension to the psychoanalytic fire. What did Brzenski say to Obama at Columbia to get him aboard and eventually atop the imperial US bandwagon? How does Obama froth and wiggle with all the old South Side ladies to get that all-important old-timey MLK religion to cow the liberals and stone the conservatives?
This absurd age cries out for an in-depth report of how active minds turn bitter, vituperative, and criminal in the CEO and congressional chairs, but these moral cripples all clam up and either drink themselves to death or befriend Bono. Humanity has been beastly for a long, long time, but this recent epoch was the age of ABC Afterschool specials, where there really are no excuses for being such an Ivy League murderer.

Thus mjosef:

This absurd age cries out for an in-depth report of how active minds turn bitter, vituperative, and criminal in the CEO and congressional chairs

Actually Obie did quote one of my favorite passages from the Hebrew scriptures, the bit from Psalm XLVI. Of course, the nauseating context and the debased modern translation between them rather spoiled the effect, for me at least.

Worauf beziehen Sie sich?

Thucydides' fictitious Pericles has been the inspiration for a number of all-too-real statesmen from that day to this. Obie's speech uncannily echoes almost all Pericles' tropes (except for telling the women to keep themselves out of sight). The whole thing boils down to, What a country!

Of course Thucydides' gnarly style, rendered in the even gnarlier English of ole Tom Hobbes, is way beyond anything the maudlin Obie could ever hope to equal, even if he wanted to, which he probably doesn't.

I didn't know Mr Crow was capable of such fine writing, such "saeve indignatio". Nice work, Jack!

He's finally gone Clapton.

Thank you.

ugh
crow-prose suited to a task...

stopped clock strikes the current hour

what's so wrong with maudlin

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.facebook.com/profile/pic.php%3Fuid%3DAAAAAQAQTu-Tu6izJNTC_vrLBQxegAAAAAoZbn59EJ2q6yj_VvHryFFj&imgrefurl=http://www.facebook.com/people/Sammy-Maudlin/1357924267&usg=__bfTP_Kgc59syxTr0ihD0AhrD5Cw=&h=310&w=200&sz=15&hl=en&start=0&zoom=1&tbnid=xIsySKMf2O6MMM:&tbnh=125&tbnw=81&ei=lYswTc6qHsOAlAeLxOmZCg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dsammy%2Bmaudlin%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG%26biw%3D1345%26bih%3D522%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=555&vpy=167&dur=1728&hovh=248&hovw=160&tx=92&ty=120&oei=lYswTc6qHsOAlAeLxOmZCg&esq=1&page=1&ndsp=23&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:0

what's so wrong with maudlin... long as its insincere

http://www.sctvguide.ca/programs/maudlin.htm

u guys and gals need to loosen up

unbutton the top button

put collar over lapel

add a dab of brylcreem to your hair

and wince with grief

NOTE: I'm violating my personal rule against making any commentary at all about this goddamn' Gabrielle Giffords media circus.

Hey, anybody catch Kirsten Gillibrand on Morning Joe this morning, talking about President Precious' speech? She hit on every metaphorical point that Smiff and Davis and everybody and their uncle in our camp was hitting on -- except totally sincerely and without irony. It was perversely breathtaking, listening to her talking up that goddamn' speech with with an oozing tidal wave of sparkle-pony rhetoric the likes I hadn't heard since at least early '08. Had me wondering if maybe the Donkeycratic Leadership Posse hadn't mixed up a fresh batch of that old Kool-Aid.

Sadly, I had to leave the room after about two minutes of Ms. G. as I had to feed the cat, bring in the paper and -- most crucial -- make the goddamn' coffee so I could slam down a cup in an effort to make sense of what Gillibrand was saying. Ma-aann, talk about your Mrs. Butterworth's moment. Jesus.

That is all.

I'm just glad that Crow and the rest of you had the stomach to wade through that drivel, because there was no way in hell that I was going to manage it.

Why did anyone ever like that fucker anyway? To me he's never come across as anything other than empty, plastic, condescending, and cold. Much like his on-record idol, St. Ronnie.

Ick.

Lo, there be puddles in heaven. Yea, and puddles in Afghanistan also: puddles that used to be people.

The nation's commentators, unduly prepped for nostalgic carnalities by the oleaginousness of the president, appear to hunger for those days of yore when politicians bespoke themselves like prosperous undertakers.

And why not? To hurl great bolts of death about the globe; to propel uncounted thousands into their graves; and then, in pensive mode, to croon at funerals: is it not efficient, a sort of telescoping of tasks? It evinces an artistic decorum.

Ideally, however, when a president sermonizes, it should be at the grave of someone he has killed. Fairness and balance, as it were.

To leave mourning only to friends and family is sadly remiss, if not irresponsible. At every funeral there should be an official, a representative of authority, who will counsel us what to feel and say about the recently departed. Why did he die (pathology/theology)? Was it his own fault (unfortunate notions, unhealthy lifestyle)? What good was he anyway (sentiment vs. utility)? No doubt this will come to pass. Leave no gravestone unturned.

Lo, there be puddles in heaven. Yea, and puddles in Afghanistan also: puddles that used to be people.

The nation's commentators, unduly prepped for nostalgic carnalities by the oleaginousness of the president, appear to hunger for those days of yore when politicians bespoke themselves like prosperous undertakers.

And why not? To hurl great bolts of death about the globe; to propel uncounted thousands into their graves; and then, in pensive mode, to croon at funerals: is it not efficient, a sort of telescoping of tasks? It evinces an artistic decorum.

Ideally, however, when a president sermonizes, it should be at the grave of someone he has killed. Fairness and balance, as it were.

To leave mourning only to friends and family is sadly remiss, if not irresponsible. At every funeral there should be an official, a representative of authority, who will counsel us what to feel and say about the recently departed. Why did he die (pathology/theology)? Was it his own fault (unfortunate notions, unhealthy lifestyle)? What good was he anyway (sentiment vs. utility)? No doubt this will come to pass. Leave no gravestone unturned.

Like history, I have repeated myself. Pardon the redundancy.