Monday, July 12, 2004

The usual idiots at the ACLU are incensed at the city of Portland, Maine, for requiring sidewalk painters
to obtain a $75 permit to set up an easel. "The city says it is worried about congestion, but it's a red herring," said Doug Emerson, a Portland photographer. "It's an issue of control."
He's absolutely correct. One more local government has seen the wisdom of following the original source of all those philosopher's footnotes.
Plato wanted to ban artists because he believed their work was only mirror images - an appearance, but not reality and truth.
That point comes from a review by Jeanette Winterson, acclaimed by liberals for her lesbian novels, which brings us to why this noble stand against the liars with paintbrushes is happening at the local level. When otherwise sound thinkers get to the national capitol, the flattering attention can easily warp their judgment. A case in point is our Second Lady. Associating with all those "artistic types" as chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities from 1986 to 1993 got her confused about priorities.
Lynne Cheney, the vice president's wife and the mother of a lesbian, said yesterday that states should have the final say over the legal status of personal relationships. That stance puts her at odds with Vice President Dick Cheney on the need for the constitutional amendment under debate in the Senate that effectively would ban gay marriage.
She's obviously still following the old memo, about supporting the former Senate Majority Leader on his state's rights stand. Fortunately out there in Real America the Podunk pols ponder Plato not pundits. His real target in that passage from Chapter 10 of The Republic was not graphic artists but wordsmiths.
...we must remain firm in our conviction that hymns to the gods and praises of famous men are the only poetry which ought to be admitted into our State. For if you go beyond this and allow the honeyed muse to enter, either in epic or lyric verse, not law and the reason of mankind, which by common consent have ever been deemed best, but pleasure and pain will be the rulers in our State.
Putting his prescription into practice, when some unpatriotic rebel decorated his yard with a sign reading "BUSH MUST GO!" and "Dump emperor George W",
someone complained about his sign to the Village of Great Neck. A code inspector showed up. Shortly after, a "notice of violation" arrived from the village ordering him to take the sign down....
They wimped out later under pressure, but they tried to squelch such subversion. Likewise the city of Boston is showing the liberal elitists who really runs things at the grass roots.
The party designer is all lined up, the $1,000-a-head guest list is rounded out with Ben Affleck, Billy Baldwin, and Sean Astin, and the superchic Louis Boston is finalized as the setting. But there's one thing this convention bash won't be doing, and that's rocking into the night. Not in Boston.

The city denied its application to let the Red Hot Chili Peppers play until midnight. They have to quit at 11. And they're not the only ones being told they can't go late. Parties around the city are being turned down for requests to go into the early morning during the week of the Democratic National Convention.
But local officials are not just blindly obedient to rules. They can exercise discretion when merely technical violations are clearly in the national interest.
Just after the dawn's early light of July Fourth, he stationed a disc jockey and a concert-size subwoofer on his glorious mountain perch overlooking Mendocino County -- and ignited a star-spangled spat. Piffero's 9 a.m. burst of patriotic words and music in Ukiah was so loud that the brave heard it in their homes several miles away, priests closed church doors so parishioners would hear their Sunday sermons, and a furious nurse named Alea Waters jumped out of bed and drove her station wagon 1,000 feet up the mountain -- where she successfully issued a citizen's arrest for disturbing the peace. ... The issue of Piffero's criminal record was settled Wednesday when District Attorney Norm Vroman decided not to file a misdemeanor disturbing-the-peace charge
If you're going to make music, make sure it's a joyful noise in praise of Our Noble Leader. There is no such thing as a poetic license to prevaricate about the only President we've got.

Saturday, July 10, 2004


No doubt you've already read how Ray Bradbury, who wisely doesn't feel the same way about censorship of movies as he does about books, is demanding an apology from Michael Moore for ripping off the title of his best novel. Now it seems he's not the only artist upset at the Blimp With A Camera.
Rock legend Pete Townshend has launched a scathing attack at film-maker Michael Moore, saying he has been "bullied and slurred" by the director. ...

"He says that I refused to allow him to use my song Won't Get Fooled Again in his latest film because I support the war. I have never hidden the fact that at the beginning of the war in Iraq, I was a supporter. But now I am less sure we did the right thing. ...Won't Get Fooled Again is not an unconditionally anti-war song."
Of course not, or it would never have been used as a theme song for a TV show by that great patriot Jerry Bruckheimer, who showed in his Profiles from the Front Line how to make a documentary that supports Our Noble Leader's preemptions.
...a commander readying the troops lectures on Iraq's leader: "Saddam Hussein is a criminal and a thug." Not many people would argue with this commander's assessment of the Iraqi dictator, but this statement is given right after an image showing troops in Afghanistan, implying that there is an inherent connection between the terrorist attacks of September 11 and Saddam Hussein. ...
This link was also incorrectly made by an American soldier searching a foreign ship attempting to unload in Iraq. He said, "I don't feel funny going through anyone's personal stuff. They wiped out how many people's stuff at the World Trade Center?"
Despite the great help that story reports the Pentagon gave to the producer then, his proposed adaptation of the Jessica Lynch story didn't come off like it was first rumored:
The movie starts with a shot of the Magic Kingdom of Walt Disney World. We then see a fleet of blimps crashing into Cinderella's castle and blowing everything up. Then we hear a voiceover by Kiefer Sutherland (or some other actor with a creepy voice) telling us about how Iraq attacked America, just like it did on 9/11, and this is why we went to war with Iraq. ...

We cut to Private Lynch (played by Anna Kournikova) lost and ALONE in her truck in the middle of the desert. As she checks her map, a wave of French and Russian soldiers come running over the dunes to attack. Behind the troops in a floating chariot pulled by robot unicorns is Saddam Hussein (played by Sir Ian McKellen). Hussein declares, while eating a baby, that the Hyper Bomb Mark IV is his and that George Washington was a child molestor. ...
But His Bruckhighness still supports our troops. He even sent some of his employees to Iraq to help.
CBS has announced that the United States Military has approached the team from "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" to help with the search for traces of Iraq's known biological, chemical and nuclear weapons. ...L. Paul Bremer III said. "They are professional, smart, and they always get their man. And the best thing is their speed: normally it only takes them about an hour to solve the crime."

...William Peterson, who plays Gal Grissom, the head of the Las Vegas Crime Scene Investigation Unit [said] "As the CBS website proclaims, my team solves crimes from evidence most average people would never think exists. Which is quite appropriate for Iraq."
Townshend must recognize true patriotism means support for the President, who was no doubt inspired in his own personal life by the songwriter's own recovery from addiction. He even let Bruckheimer use old Who songs as themes for both of his CSI shows. He saw that Jerry knows just how to help George: he just follows the script and "becomes part of the machine."

Thursday, July 08, 2004

You've probably memorized it by now: the infamous "Miranda" warning you see given to arrested criminals on all the TV cop shows. Well, here's some legal info for you. Those warnings are not to protect the wrongdoers, they are to protect the police. Once the officers read those rights, they can ask any sort of manipulative, sneaky, downright intimidating questions they want -- and they do.

Now the Supreme Court, nipping at the hand which appoints it, is saying that even terrorists have all sorts of legal rights. How long before the "Justices", having thrown off their reins, start requiring all that same legal mumbo jumbo for the Mad Bombers What Bomb At Midnight? Well, a great opportunity has arisen to preclude any worries from that front. Our soldiers and Homeland Security types can have a "query the thugs in jail" pass by giving them more than a mere Miranda warning. All they have to do is print and give out copies of a new, convenient (and cheap) text of the entire Constitution. Let them claim they don't know their rights then.
A villager in the Indian Himalayas has sought recognition from President George W. Bush after copying by hand the US constitution in a book only two centimeters (three-quarters of an inch) long ... it took him 196 hours and 25 minutes to write down the US constitution in the 124-page book that weighs 2.17 grams, or three-quarters of an ounce.

Gaze in shock at a photo of the Suicide Bomber Barbie, as found at the well-named die puny humans. On June 30 I wrote in "La Sauce Pour Le Jars" about Paul Johnson's resoundingly rightist new history of art. A bête noire of his is what he calls "fashion art". He refers to Picasso, but this model has to be an even better example. It is always difficult to tell if modern "art" is intended as a joke or not. Let's hope this is one, however sick. Judge for yourself from the typical modernist jargon at this site:
Simon Tyszko's Suicide Bomber Barbie conflates Western commodification with Palestinian desperation. Religious and capitalist dogmas struggle within Barbie'’s idealised form, in an artwork of potent incongruity.

Mealy-mouthed "moderate" Matthew Yglesias shows how a Philosophy course is a terrible thing to waste. In "Fusionism" he attacks rightists and libertarians by mockingly quoting:
Meyer contributed to an unfortunate tendency among conservatives toward theoretical maximalism, as in his casual reference to "the totalitarian implications of the federal school lunch program."
Ignoring this absolutely correct point of Meyer's, he then tries to prove how "even-handed" and boringly "un-extreme" he is, by also bashing the left:
You sometimes catch liberals arguing that federal funding of Catholic schools is the leading edge of total social disintegration even though it's been done for decades in Canada without ill effect.
Hang on there, Mattie, you're not really holding up Canada as a model? That openly collectivist icebox where socialized medicine only hangs on because it's too cold for most germs, which tries to sabotage American business by letting their subversives undercut our prescription drug prices, which was legally recognizing same-sex entanglements even before howling Howie's Vermont? Those figure skating pot smoking phonies have been in total social meltdown for years, and proved it most recently when "Voter turnout in the 2004 election was lower than in any national election since Confederation in 1867." Their experience could only be an argument against vouchers, not against opposing them. Try to think these things through next time, Mattie.

Once there was a country that was very sad. All the big corporations had given up producing work of which a man or a woman could be proud, and had learned to live by manipulating the government to give them an ever larger share of the peoples' taxes.
Does this dark, dreary, dystopia bring to mind any epic novels of how terrible things would be in America if all the good people just gave up? That's right, Julia, who usually just posts silly liberal propaganda at her own blog, Sisyphus Shrugged, is channelling the spirit of the late Alys Rosenbaum. Like the original, she celebrates capitalism and gives us a hero:
From the ranks of the people rose an entrepreneur whose spirit rose against this waste of human potential.
But that is not the only model she uses in this tour de force. She also recalls the work of Douglas Adams:
(I'm sure the small-l libertarians would have done something about it, but they were sent off in the first ship with the phone sanitizers and the marketing consultants.)
Her brave businessman proceeds to make a movie to question how bad things have become, and it happily becomes a popular success. Unfortunately, she casts this whole tale in the form of a parable, calling it "Sam Adams Shrugged: a fable of modern times". The format means that she never names the bold film maker, or the masterpiece of cinema he puts out. Well, she can't fool me. It is obvious that she can only be referring to Mel Gibson and his wonderful The Passion Of The Christ. Go read her piece for yourself, and welcome this prodigal daughter to the supporters of compassionate corporatism. Perhaps soon she'll be endorsing Our Noble Leader.

When the first JFK ran for President, he still faced the rumor that had helped defeat Al Smith -- that if he won, he would build a secret tunnel from the White House to the Vatican. The next Catholic nominee of a major party, JFK The Sequel, won't have to worry about that charge, judging by the efforts coming from there to deny him communion for insufficiently supporting the fetal position of Pius IX and his successors, as opposed to those of Augustine, Aquinas, and the Church's Council of Vienne in 1312, who all held that abortion was homicide only after the fetus was "formed".

The symbolism of that hidden access to a foreign land where his real allegiance lies is still valid, however. Political Wire has pointed to an article about The Ketchup Consort's home at Washington, usurped like his bride from a late Republican colleague. This shows where his heart really will go on to:
The entrance to the large, landscaped garden is through French doors.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004


So it's going to be John The Tortious as the Ketchup Consort's Veep wanna-be. Does this mean that JFK II wants still more money from the ambulance chasers? No -- he will shortly be stuck with no more for his campaign than what he can extract from the taxpayers (a trap we lured silly liberal idealists into setting up years ago). Is it to steal Southern votes by stealth? No -- polls show Johnny Eddie the animatronic Ken doll won't even carry his own state. Is it to inflame the class war with the Toothy Carolinian's "bash the corporations" rhetoric? No -- his voting record shows that to be campaign castigation uncountenanced in his actual voting record, where, like his running mate, he casts his ballot where the lobby is. It means they've decided to compose this campaign from Carteresque carping about "justice" and "rights". Expect to hear a lot about Abu Ghraib and those poor huddled asses yearning to breathe for free in Guantanamo.

Very well, we can take up the fight on that ground.
"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." --William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part 2, Act IV, Scene 2.
We speak only figuratively, of course, but you know what surveys show about how little people trust lawyers, so we'll brag that Our Noble Leader not only isn't an attorney, but that he showed how typical an American he was when he was rejected for law school even at his home state's University. That proves how the legal establishment saw even then that he wouldn't play their silly games, like the Supreme Court has been doing lately. Would he have ever ruled that flag burning is okay, or that sodomy couldn't be banned, or that Eve and Hillary could wed? Of course not. He probably wouldn't even have bought into that phony Swedish "sociologist's" theories and said "separate but equal" was unfair to those of the colored persuasion.
"If the law supposes that," said Mr. Bumble, "the law is an ass, a idiot." --Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist (ch. LI).
Finally, we can use this against the Team Of Two Tort Tossers with the key core group of apocalyptic fundamentalists. We won't even be casting the first stone. It will just be payback for the memory of the late Saint Ronald, whose Democratic opponent in his first campaign for Governor "reminded" voters that it was an actor who killed Lincoln. We'll just put out a letter to those church membership lists we are getting now quoting a classic of American literature, Stephen Vincent Benet's "The Devil And Daniel Webster":
He was a great lawyer, Dan'l Webster, but we know who's the King of Lawyers, as the Good Book tells us, and it seemed as if, for the first time, Dan'l Webster had met his match.

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

There has been a generational shift on the right. The old ones just had nightmares about what horrors the evil liberals might impose on the country. We of the new breed actually use those fearful fantasies for sources, turning the techniques they warned leftists might use into weapons against the liberals themselves.

One great example is a novelist who won a Pulitzer Prize in 1960. (That's not a strong recommendation itself, since we know how easily old Joe Kennedy bought one for his son three years earlier.) Allen Drury showed how obsolete his attitudes were in his first book, Advise And Consent, by actually portraying a gay Senator sympathetically, something no conservative would do in this age of Santorum. His greatest mistake was assuming that authoritarian rule would come to America from the left, as shown in his Come Nineveh, Come Tyre in 1973.

That novel proved to be a treasure trove of ideas for Our Noble Leader's administration, from allowing "collaboration" between the FBI, CIA, IRS and other agencies, to setting up a new "Domestic Tranquillity Board", which promptly starts locking up subversive U.S. citizens with no recourse to the courts. I'm sure that The Rovinator and General John are both thankful to Drury for his inspiration.

Another of the newer wave who learned from old fiction is Paul Johnson. Himself a former leftist, he has become a popularizer of history, producing long tomes about the Jews, Christianity, and the U.S., all wonderful excuses to slither rightist ideas down the unsuspecting readers' throats. I've just finished his Art: A New History, clearly a labor of loathe for him, and a great example of his methods as a propagandist.

Johnson really gives the game away in his Introduction, writing "...culture wars are perhaps the cruellest and most demoralising of all wars. It is therefore essential that society defend itself against cultural breakdown." Fortunately, most will skip that and flip through the pages looking at pretty pictures. His real purpose for the book is to lure people on unsuspectingly to reading Chapter 29, "The Beginnings of Fashion Art". That's where he launches his intemperate tirade against modern art, using all the techniques he honed when editing the leftist New Statesman before coming to his senses on the road to Damascus.

We can gleefully cheer on his blood-letting ad hominems against that "fraud", Picasso, cleverly implying his work must be bad because of his personal life. Those of us familiar with the subject can only stand in awe of how he misstates facts, confuses unconnected work, and spins his own misdefinitions. Johnson's ordinary readers will have no idea how he has twisted truth for their own good, especially since he dropped any source notes and bibliography (to keep the book from becoming "prohibitively expensive and bulky").

His most intense venom is reserved, and rightly so, for the Surrealists. For just one instance, he writes that Magritte's "The Threatened Assassin (1927) ... hints that a murder is about to be committed, though not how, why, or of whom." Cleverly, this is not the example of Magritte's work which he prints a picture of. If he did, some reader might make this connection:
A five-part serial, "Fantomas", by the French movie-maker Louis Feuillade was the main cinematic influence on Magritte. This series of films (taken from novels of the same name) dealt with a character named Fantomas who captured the imagination of Magritte as well as many other surrealists. Fantomas was a "genius of evil ". He could commit grisly and brilliant crimes without leaving a trace. ...

In another painting, The Threatened Assassin, Magritte painted another episode from Fantomas. In this painting there are five men waiting outside of a room which contains the nude corpse of a woman and an unperturbed man standing by a gramophone. Fantomas strikes again.
You can see the picture and judge Johnson's honesty and perception for yourself HERE. Liberals, preferring to believe the best of everyone, might assume that Johnson can't read French, and so is unaware of thirty-two volumes of stories about Fantomas. Go right on believing this is just sloppy work, you foolish idealists, while he goes on doing whatever it takes to win those culture wars, including noble lies. Your gullibility is why you're losing.

The best evidence of how Johnson uses techniques from old rightist nightmare fiction is his gushing praise for one American artist, whom he champions for being "optimistic" and "consoling", and, in a triumph of chutzpah, claims to display "no politics" at all, namely Norman Rockwell. One passing comment about this illustrator gives a clue to the source of Johnson's method:
His wartime industrial heroine, Rosie the Riveter, is a pastiche of a Michelangelo figure from the Sistine Ceiling....
He goes on to compare him to De Hooch and Hopper. This immediately reminded me of a passage in an old rightist novel about a different art:
The Cosmo-Slotnick building, which is pure Michelangelo. ... The Prudential Bank Building, which is genuine Palladio. The Slottern Department Store, which is snitched Christopher Wren.
A later passage in that famous novel about architecture attributes to an evil leftist writer the very essence of what Johnson is doing here:
Sure he's good, but suppose I didn't like him. Suppose I wanted to stop people from seeing his plays. It would do me no good whatever to tell them so. But if I sold them the idea that you're just as great as Ibsen -- pretty soon they wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Thus the former Saul of the New Statesman undercuts Dali, Ernst, and all the other modernists not just by sliming them, but by building up as an ideal the work of a trivial simplistic chauvinist of technical adequacy but no inspiration, who used his talent to sell magazines. This is a perfect example of how we on the right can profit from the imaginative fears of our fiction writers. Take the vilest approaches they try to scare us with about the left, and use those very tools ourselves. Meanwhile, pass on Johnson's cleverly concealed subject-changing doorstop to uninformed friends who would like to know something about art. He's one more useful weapon in bringing the war back home.

Monday, June 28, 2004

For several days The American Street has been stilled, with its bloggers unable to post more of their usual snide attacks upon Our Noble Leader. For some time, they have foolishly allowed me to post there on occasion, just to prove to the world how tolerant of diversity of opinions they are. No doubt they expect I would return the favor if I had my own domain name and web host. Silly idealists.

Today they thought they finally managed to resolve whatever bugs were glitching them up. Little did they know the truth. They need to look South to W's own home base, and, as usual, to the Good Book, in this case in Mark 6:4:
"A prophet is not without honor except in his own country, among his own relatives, and in his own house."
Just this past weekend the Green Party held their own national convention, and chose not to endorse Ralph Nader, instead nominating David Cobb. Most liberals will see that as good news, since it will keep the Crusader against Corvairs off the ballot in many states. To we who hope to see the Preemptive Crusade expanded against the entire Axis of Medieval, that is bad news. We had been contributing to Ralphie to help his efforts, but Cobb promises (more credibly than Nay-sayer did) to only campaign in non-swing states which Bush will either win or lose big-time. This November election might be close enough for a credible left-wing alternative to The Ketchup Consort to throw it to us again -- or at least to let La Familia Scalia to close the deal.

Just last month, the Libertarian Party met and nominated Michael Badnarik for President. His choice is also bad news for the incumbent, since he is likely to split off some right-wing voters disgusted by deficits and foreign crusades -- and, unlike Nadir, he will be on the ballot in virtually every state. Both the Green and Libertarian nominees were surprises. They had one other thing in common: both of them are from Texas.

Why did these unknown challengers emerge from George's own home state this year? I blame Tom Delay. Yes, his redistricting was a brilliant ploy to pick up more seats in Congress, but it stirred such fierce antagonism that it was like first use of nuclear weapons. Sadly, he did not devastate his enemies there quite enough. Not only are those Democratic lame ducks from Texas filing ethics charges against him, I believe they are the ones who secretly encouraged these nobodys from the Lone Star State. Both of them were chosen to do the maximum possible damage to the Republican national ticket in swing states. If I had to guess, I would be most suspicious of redistricted Democrat Martin Frost, who seems to see himself as the would-be Third Coast Phil Burton.

Just days ago my brilliant research uncovered this insidious liberal plot. Naturally I intended to warn those puppets at the Green convention how they were being manipulated, so that they would sever those strings and support Ralph the Trojan Horse instead, giving our plans the greatest possible help. Not knowing any Greens personally, I thought it only fitting to turn the left's "tolerance" against them, by posting this revelation on The American Street, which has a much higher lefty readership than my own site. Unfortunately, I let this plan slip out too soon. The result was a stealthy attack by liberal hackers on The Street's servers, effectively blocking new posts -- and keeping the truth hidden about the attempted Texas revenge on their past Governor, who Left No Surplus Behind for those Democrats to ever spend.

The recidivist big spenders want those tax cuts back so they can give them away to the undeserving poor, and they'll try any trick they can to beat the Bushes this fall. That included blocking The Street over the weekend. Now that they've planted another unwitting Texas stalking horse to block Nader, they've gotten out of the way, and that web site is free to go on with its predictable cat calls against the only President we've got. Well, they won this battle, but it's a long long war through November. I won't let them catch me napping again.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

Taking an idea from skippy the bush kangaroo, I have put up a poll on my sidebar. While he merely asked, in his inadequately capitalized way, "who would be the best candidate for john kerry's vice president?", I have decided to show how serious this question is by reminding you of what will happen if John Heinz-Kerry should actually win this fall. That's right, we're already drafting impeachment articles for perjury. Isn't a lie about heaving stars as important as one about having sex? I started the ballots rolling by helpfully voting for the person who would do the second most harm to John-boy's chances, She Who Must Not Be Named. Yes, I know Sharpton would scare even more voters into sticking with Our Noble Leader, but as Christopher Walken said in one of my favorite movies, "There are some things I don't do." To paraphrase the old Republican slogan from Reconstruction years, "Vote as you scoffed."

I've previously written how liberal Mad Kane's incessant sniping at Our Noble Leader with her song parodies has lowered her I.Q. so that she has to crib from ever simpler material. Perhaps she has given up now to turn to an even less intellectually challenging career -- game show host. She writes
I was amused to learn about a new Bush administration goal: It wants to change the name of the Food Stamps Program (since it no longer uses stamps) and is soliciting suggestions from the public. ...the new name I've come up with is "Leave No Stomach Behind." ...as a public service, I challenge my readers to come up with some good names and post them in my comments. If I get suggestions from ten or more people, I'll even award a prize -- $10 in PayPal cash.
So far I think the most vicious libels proposed there have been The Talking Dog's "Ronald Reagan Supplemental User Card Kiosk System"" -or simply "Reagan SUCKS" and someone's suggestion of "Faith based obesity prevention initiative". Go see how wildly the liberals flail over a mere pittance at "Rename the Food Stamps Program -- Contest with Prize".

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

The indictments allow cases to be kept open indefinitely, effectively circumventing the statute of limitations ... Using the John Doe DNA indictments, prosecutors bring the charges -- even when they don't know who committed the crime -- against the DNA profile from the evidence they gathered.

The approach originated in Milwaukee in 1999 but has spread to counties in Texas, California, New York, and a handful of other states. Last April, Congress passed a bill allowing prosecutors to bring John Doe DNA indictments for federal sex offenses.
Naturally the liberals of the ACLU are outraged, claiming the passage of time could make a fair trial impossible years later. This is just more of their usual silliness, claiming you earn a "get out of jail free card" if you can get away with a crime for fifteen years or whatever. But just this once they are actually on the side of the angels, or at least the Popes. Sadly, neither Paul VI's Humanae Vitae nor John Paul II's Evangelium Vitae foresaw such a high tech threat to their teachings.

Here's the unintended consequence of filing indictments against an unknown rapist's sperm: this will give a major legal incentive to rapists to begin using condoms. This of course is prohibited by those encyclicals. Sure, the criminals are already committing one sin, but why encourage them to add another one by engaging in contraception? As for the claim that use of condoms by rapists might help prevent disease or even pregnancy, the first of those Papal ukases already covered that in typical Vaticanese prose:
In truth, if it is sometimes licit to tolerate a lesser evil in order to avoid a greater evil or to promote a greater good, it is not licit, even for the gravest reasons, to do evil so that good may follow therefrom, that is, to make into the object of a positive act of the will something which is intrinsically disorder, and hence unworthy of the human person, even when the intention is to safeguard or promote individual, family or social well-being.
His Holiness failed to make this turgid sentence any less obscure by supporting it with a footnote reference to the eighth verse of Romans 3, a chapter which seems to argue that Jews are not worthless, because they sin just as much as Gentiles. If the relevance eludes you, allow me to paraphrase: condoms are bad, no matter what beneficial side effects they might have.

I suppose it is too much to hope that at their recent meeting Our Noble Leader asked the Pope to support the ACLU position on this issue. To me it is obvious that the church should make common cause with the criminal apologists just this once. Let the leftist lawyers try to save the body of the elusive rapist from prison decades after their crime, while the priests try to preemptively lessen the darkness of the criminal's soul, sparing them the encouragement to commit still one more sin. It is a temporary marriage of convenience made, if not in heaven, then at least at the Supreme Court building.

In Taxachusetts the Democratic legislators are trying a power grab. They want to pass a bill which would provide a special election for U.S. Senator if, God forbid, Kerry wins the White House and resigns. The catch is the bill would prohibit the nominal Republican Governor from appointing a temporary replacement to serve until the election. Obviously they want to avoid having their candidate face an incumbent Republican.
Pamela Wilmot, executive director of Common Cause, and Secretary of State William F. Galvin, a Democrat and the state's chief election officer, also have called for lawmakers to allow the installation of a temporary senator during the special process. Both had advocated a six-month election process that would allow a wider field of candidates and accommodate federal requirements such as distributing ballots to military personnel. "I am quite sure I'll be in federal court," said Galvin, who said he anticipated civil suits to force a longer election process. "The rights of voters come ahead of parties and candidates."
Never let it be said that the Hypocrisy Democratic Party actually supports democracy if that interferes with their pursuit of power. Nevertheless, never let it be said that I agree with Common Cause on anything. There is a very good reason to leave this vacancy unfilled for as long as possible -- the person elected is likely to be a liberal. Even a Republican appointed by that waffler would be too far left by my standards. If I recall correctly, the last Republican Senator from that state was Edward Brooke. 'Nuff said.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004


In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is not king, but a pariah condemned for his fraudulent claims of imaginary "visions". Statistically unusual eyesight is not the only quality provoking such jealous denial from the less gifted. Anything which calls into question their petty prejudices can lead to vicious personal attacks.

Consider the snarking by liberals at a colleague of mine who happens to share the same initials. When her writing disproved their foolish idea that women are more gentle and kind than men, the estrogen-challenged on the left mounted a Last Stand At Gender Gap, with cleverly Photoshopped allegations, and some notorious Boondocks cartoons, claiming that she had an Adam's apple. The implication was escalated further by Tbogg, writing of a man she had been seen dating, "Jonathan? Sweetie? Have you ever seen The Crying Game? ....Why? Oh, no reason...." It is not surprising that the guardians of feminist political correctness have displayed their usual double standard by not condemning the "sexism" of these cruel ad feminems.

Yet that helplessly beset conservative muse is in fact quite moderate. She was decried for intolerance after 9-11, when all she advocated was killing enemy leaders and forced conversion of their people. I have repeated often that her proposal, though well-intentioned, is not an adequate response. I continue to lobby for massive retaliation with thermonuclear weapons to destroy the entire Islamic world. Lately, as casualties mount in Iraq, I have been delighted to see more bloggers edging toward this idea. As this shift gathers momentum, perhaps it was inevitable that the appeasers would turn their nictitating membranes in my direction. Naturally, their first reaction was to use the same tactic against me which they tried on her.

Cleverly, they got a "moderate" to fire the first shot in this meme war. A moderate blogger is someone who has a permalink to Instapundit, but not to Little Green Footballs. In this case their designated fire-starter was Dean Esmay. On Monday he posted on his blog a damnation with faint praise of my own. Part of his thrust was to dismiss all my serious suggestions for destruction of the domestic Democratic demons as mere "satire". This reminded me of a lament by Lily Tomlin, about going to great effort to put an important statement about life onto a freeway overpass for the world to see -- and then having some fool with a spray can come along and change it to read "Buick". No, Dean, "satire" was the last dying word of Citizen Gaines. My own métier is uncomfortable truth; Diogenes of Sinope hung up his lantern when he met me.

Esmay's real agenda was in these words:
"She" is probably a man or, more likely, two or more people. Just look to her blogroll, it'll probably be one or more of those fellows. ...the guys doing Ms. Clouter (or, really, shouldn't it be "Miss?" I'm sure "she" must be an old maid who dislikes the term "Ms.") ....
So Dean claims not only that I am "one of those plural personalities", as the valet said in a classic Fred Astaire movie, but apparently have visited Denmark for surgical transformation as well. That's if we take his comments seriously, instead of as just an attempted libel by a writer jealous over missing one arm of an "X" on the 23rd chromosome. Jung would find it most fitting that it was on the 23rd day of June in 1956 that Walt Kelly depicted my reaction to this in Pogo:
Beaver: "You know who Miss Ma'm'selle Hepzibah really is? She's the lost Dauphin of France!"
Owl: "Don't that surprise you?"
Fox: "Somehow it don't surprise me half as much as it's gonna surprise Ma'm'selle Hepzibah."
I shall not fall into the trap described by the late Lyndon Johnson, who said one of the best things you can do in politics is to start the rumor that your opponent copulates with swine (LBJ used cruder language, of course). He went on that you don't expect anyone to believe the story; you just want your enemy to stand up and publicly deny it. Instead, I propose to take a leaf from one of those commie activists who were only briefly silenced by the Hollywood censorship supported by Saint Ronald.

Last year someone threatened to sue the anonymous leftist blogger Atrios for libel, and to demand his real identity in legal discovery. Insty and even Misha belittled this as unwise and the litigious one relented, but not before a campaign was begun by Billmon of the Whiskey Bar against this abuse of the tort process:
So fuck you, Stalker Luskin, AND the lawyer you rode in on. Or, to paraphrase one of my favorite gladiator movies: I'm Atrios!
The reference is to a film with Kirk Douglas, based on a novel by old blacklistee Howard Fast, about the slave revolt in ancient Rome. In one classic scene someone demands to know which of the slaves is Spartacus, and soon dozens of them are all claiming to be him. Likewise, dozens of bloggers were soon claiming that they were the real Atrios.

Let's stand this liberal technique on its head. So leftist plotters manipulated Esmay into claiming that two or more people on the blogroll, probably male, are actually me? I suggest that everyone reading this PUBLICLY DENY THAT YOU ARE ME. Say that you're not me here in the comments, say it in the comments at Esmay's own site, and say it in a post on your own site to help spread the word. Let's overwhelm him with denials and kill this vile liberal scheme before it builds up any steam.

Saturday, June 19, 2004



?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

[Found at Silent Lucidity.]

Apparently the voters, who gave us Republican control of all branches of our national government, are "blindly following guys with the mentalities of The Sopranos, sans all the acumen", according to resentful liberal Kevin Hayden of The American Street. Actually it doesn't take a lot of acumen to be in a crime family, just ruthlessness, paranoia, and severe myopia.

Machiavelli wrote "it is much safer to be feared than loved", but his humor was far above the heads of the petty tyrants he addressed. The truth is that if you live by intimidation, you are never safe. Once you get on that treadmill, you can't safely step off. Any sign of weakness, such as refusing to stomp on underlings or innocent bystanders for not showing you "respect", causes the carnivores in your compound to contemplate conspiracy.

It's like the children's game called King Of The Mountain. You have to be constantly on watch on all sides. The only way to "win" that game is to have a time limit, and declare the one teetering on the summit when the clock stops to be the champion. One reason so many people fall into this trap and join The Family You Can't Ever Quit, is the notorious short-sightedness of the criminal mind. Studies show them to have a serious lack of ability to imagine the long-range consequences of their present actions. They don't try to picture what happens after they scramble to the peak.

Real life, however, is not like a gangster thriller that has to be wrapped up for the closing credits. It is much more like Alan Moore's Watchmen. In that very timely and prophetic graphic novel, a conscienceless tycoon decides to save humanity from themselves. He gets conflicting nations to unite in opposing a greater threat, by faking an alien attack on New York City. Only the scale is different from 9-11, since this attack kills a thousand times more people. In the third-to-last scene he asks a character who truly can see the future, "I did the right thing, didn't I? It all worked out in the end?" The ominous reply is "'In the end'? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends."

So why is Our Noble Leader acting like that cliche character, the climbing egotist headed for a fall who says "I don't have to be nice to people on the way up, because I'm never coming down"? Retaliating against a diplomat by leaking that his wife was a CIA agent has already started a chain of revenge by The Company. Their latest attack was letting the world know about Rummy's illegal incarceration of some Iraqi terrorist, who wasn't even worth interrogating twice. Can you smell their set-up here? Why provoke such predictable backlash by the vengeful spooks?

The clue is, like The Purloined Letter, right there in front of the ignorant liberals who have misunderestimated him again. Those elitist secularists just refused to take him seriously when he said how he came to power. Now The Sideshow asks:
Could the end-timers who seem to worship him really be unclear on the obvious similarities between Bush and The Beast? Or do they recognize those similarities and want to join forces with The Beast himself in a deliberate attempt to bring on Armageddon?
An admitted witch at The-Goddess links to a revealing report:
According to freelance journalist Wayne Madsden, "George W Bush's blood lust, his repeated commitment to Christian beliefs and his constant references to 'evil doers,' in the eyes of many devout Catholic leaders, bear all the hallmarks of the one warned about in the Book of Revelations -- the anti-Christ."

Madsen ... says that people close to the pope claim that amid these concerns, the pontiff wishes he was younger and in better health to confront the possibility that Bush may represent the person prophesized in Revelations. John Paul II has always believed the world was on the precipice of the final confrontation between Good and Evil as foretold in the New Testament.
So, if those frightened liberals are right about him, then our President is like a child playing King Of The Mountain, who knows that mommy's shortly going to yell that it's supper time. He doesn't need to worry about staying on top for long, because he knows the game is about to be called. It would have been very easy to calculate. He could just read the report from that pollster on Patmos, presented in Revelation 13:5:
And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two months.
That would have told him that his administration, which began on January 20, 2001, will be over this July, one week before the scheduled start of the Democratic National Convention. Will it end by impeachment, resignation, or rapture? Mark your calendars and watch.

Monday, June 14, 2004

I wrote about Mad Kane, in "Liberalism Lowers Your I.Q.", that "all that leftist venom has shrunk her brain power so much that she has to use much simpler raw material, like old folk songs. ... If this dumbing down continues, what will she have to use next? Nursery rhymes?" Never say I can't spot a trend. Her latest attempt to post lyrical graffiti against Our Noble Leader does just what I suggested. Go snicker at the evidence of her continuing decline at her new "Dump Bush Song".


Today they unveiled portraits of the hosts of that game show which recently played at the White House Theatre, "2922 Days of Sodom". Of course I declined my invitation to attend. I was tempted by the thought of Grace Slick's inspiration during the Nixon administration: slipping acid into the punch. My variant would have been to see what happened if She Who Must Not Be Named had some garlic spilled on her. I restrained myself because of the nightmare idea that her Governor might appoint that weaseling liberal Giuliani in her place.

The Clenis made me wonder if he'd been sampling some of Grace's party mix himself, with a typically incoherent remark: "Made me feel like I was a pickle stepping into history." Perhaps he was feeling nostalgic, or maybe Sigmund was right, and sometimes a cucumber is just a cucumber. On this return visit, was he careful not to step in that steaming pile of history he left on the rug?

The main reason I stayed away was fear of losing my breakfast at the pious hypocrisy required at such events. Amazingly the Democratic national Stool, Terry McAuliffe, was honest (no doubt by oversight), saying "Everyone loves everyone equally here today." Since the same two negative numbers are indeed equal, this was the literal truth. But I could not have kept a straight face hearing Mrs. "Dances With Words" say "Finally, it is a somewhat daunting experience to have your portrait hung in the White House." I could only recall Bob Munson's line to Crystal Danta in Advise And Consent: "The last time you were impressed was in the third grade."

Our Noble Leader himself was required by protocol to gush with courtesy for his predecessor. The most gag-producing example was when he said "We're glad you're here, 42." [That ominous number convinces me that Douglas Adams must have miscalculated. His Hitchhiker's Guide was quite accurate about the real task of the Commander in Chief. ("The President in particular is very much a figurehead .... His job is not to wield power but to draw attention away from it.") But that author obviously wasn't very good at math. The answer to the Ultimate Question could not possibly have been what he suggested. But I digress.]

This numerological nomenclature reminds me of the line from Get Smart!, when Agent Ninety-nine said "You're worth two 43s, Eighty-six." I'm sure snarky liberals would claim that even Maxwell Smart was twice as smart as our current President. He certainly has misleadered them about his vast intellect. Even that seems to shrink in comparison to the obvious strength of his ability to repress the barfing reflex. Hopefully he kept someone guarding all the keyboards until after His Isness departed once again.

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