Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Recently I was referred to as "l'étrangement eurocentrique Frau Clouter" by Phersu. I keep an eye on the appeasing vacillations of Old Europe for the same reason those old war posters said "Know Your Enemy". If you want a real example of the sort of national identity confusion which leads liberals to support people like the Ketchup Consort, consider this pathetic rant:
...if it weren't for the French, we'd all be cheering for Manchester United or some shithead cricket team and looking forward to the House of Windsor's annual visit with plummy enthusiasm. Not that there's anything wrong with Blighty, mind you, but just a teensy reminder to you semi-elected idiots out there ordering liberty fries, and uh ... egalitarian toast, and ... er, fraternity-kissing your fellow Congressmen in the cloakroom before heading back to legislatively bomb our nation's poor back into the stone age, that maybe going after La Belle is, if not the stupidest waste of the taxpayer's money that you've ever engaged in (that being renaming National Airport after a shitty actor), close enough up there in the myopic format that only those with heads firmly lodged in rectums can attain to register in the top five.

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