Monday, August 25, 2008
Mini Mansions -- Dead-Blogging The DemoCon
Well, you can't call it live-blogging, when their big video so far is Zombie Jimmy Carter. Of course he is appropriate to this year of House Posturing. While it was fine for Mrs. John Kerry to own homes all over the world, INOKIYAR ("it's not o. k. if you're a Republican"). So as upwardly-pretentious yuppies lose their over-mortgaged McMansions the Blue Gushies bring out this guy who builds tar paper shacks with his own hands for those who can't even get credit. Fortunately for them, most of the voters aren't old enough to remember even-odd gas days during The Malaise. Just as in the words leftians used to put into the first candidate Barry's mouth (that would be the late Goldwater), "If you can't get a house big enough to hold servants, why then find a convenient patsy who will buy a part of your back yard for an inflated price." But why risk reviving the Peanut Oil Salesman's cloying calls for Designed Dependency?
Well, I'm watching this, so I'll go on posting here and at The American Street. But if they are leading with their on-base hitters, then Pelosi and Mr. Goober are not making for a big inning tonight.
UPDATE: Carter says he was the first Pres from the deep south in a century. I'm dubious, considering LBJ and The Clenis. But later he proves it, talking about how the world is impressed to see "this boy". Yeah, that'll stir good memories, Killer Wabbit Smasher.
UPDATE: See, I told you this would be Home Sweet Home Night. Now they are showing a video of hard hats (some unconvincingly worn) putting up charity housing for Da Poor. It's the Carpenters Of The Lost Ward, bravely pushing back against the Swift Foreclosers of The Apocalypse.
UPDATE: So Santana faux-organ sounds lead us into a very tired-sounding Little Caroline -- the one who proved herself too dumb to unders
tand Darth's precedent and discover that she was herself the best Veep. Hey, sweetums, Uncle Bobby wouldn't have missed that chance. Of course, she's here to talk about her less ruthless unc, the amphibious chauffeur of the soap opera. Tenacity yields to timidity. McCarran's old aide has been reduced to an embalmed tool to accuse recent First Ladies of reviving the Phoenix Program domestically. Karma or kaka? Da utes doan care.
UPDATE: They see he may not make the next Con, so they're praising Chappacoward now. Diabetes symptoms will kick in soon. Oh, yeah, we know he's all for "national service". He'll even be the sponsor in the Senate of Rangel's carefully un-sexist new Save Our Children Act (aka "the draft", for we old farts with recall). They'll need that to the up the troop levels in Afghanistan while sending new ones into Georgia.
I'll bet you thought I meant the country of Georgia, not the state.
Ha. You wish.
UPDATE: In the stands, Joe "a Delaware corporatist" Biden applauds The Jowl From The Past, but looks really worried. He's not the only one wondering if Ted can even make it through the end of this, much less to next January. He's just as healthy as his ideas, sad to say for him. The guy who can't even carry his own state for his endorsed candidate is here for good-byes. It's all Nostalgia for Lost Causes. INOKIYAC ("if's not o. k. if your a Confederate"). As he dodders off, the planners sure better have a sharper someone soon, or ratings will crash and stay low for the rest of the week.
UPDATE: In the stands, Joe "a Delaware corporatist" Biden applauds The Jowl From The Past, but looks really worried. He's not the only one wondering if Ted can even make it through the end of this, much less to next January. He's just as healthy as his ideas, sad to say for him. The guy who can't even carry his own state for his endorsed candidate is here for good-byes. It's all Nostalgia for Lost Causes. INOKIYAC ("it's not o. k. if you're a Confederate"). As he dodders off, the planners sure better have a sharper someone soon, or ratings will crash and stay low for the rest of the week.
UPDATE: A bloody City Clerk? This just oozes Chicago Machine -- perhaps this man is not the best image of Change (TM).
UPDATE: Now we have someone who hired The One to come to Chicago as a "community organizer" for peanuts. (See how that Carter connection is still there? Oh, it's all planned like an overstuffed surrealist painting.) Indeed, Da Bruders in the erstwhile Second City were "bound and gagged, and they'd been chained to a chair", but it was the political gang running things that held the keys. Ol' Precious didn't even try to pick that lock. This reassures the remnants of Urban Demochines everywhere.
UPDATE: More walking zombies. Tom Harkin, who once screwed up the whole Presidential primary year by scaring all the serious candidates out of Iowa, introduces a Republican defector. Leach, or "Leech" as the self-proclaimed victims of imaginary usury by bankers used to call him when he chaired a committee, skipped the traces because the Cheneyistas weren't boring enough for him. Bipartisan tedium -- it's what's for dinner.
UPDATE: To introduce an unchosen veep from the Exhibitionist State, we have her offspring who is pushing for the Oborgs to sign in and get their orders from Brainiac, no doubt texting from Soros' Fortress of Solipstude. The state that sees dead people, and votes for them. Shouldn't that be considered a good sign for Mr. Beer Baroness' chance to carry Missouri?
McCasketville seems to be here to put forward the "good little kids from right next door to your very own cracker-barrel home" story for Bar and Mich, as Barb would say. Just oozing hominess. This smells like it's leading up to giving America's second African-American candidate for First Lady [yes, Mrs. Swift-boated was actually born in Africa] a blue carpet of reassurance for any rednecks still watching. Yep. Now a video with her mom priming her to be Mrs. America. I hate needles -- does insulin come in oral doses now?
UPDATE: It's worse. Now her brother is telling how she memorized every episode of the Brady Bunch. I really have to go barf and get something stronger to drink. I'll sign out on this post and start another one if I can stand it.
FINAL UPDATE: On second thought, there isn't enough left for another post, so I'll just finish this here.
Her Finally Proudness says her big brother was watching over her. I see where this is going. Eric Blair is spinning in his grave. If you want her vision of the future, picture a basketball coach making you stomp up and down the stands -- forever. "Mold our future into the shape of their ideals", indeed. Oh, that humanity was one lump of clay, that I might bake it into a chamber pot.
Now she throws a bone to She Who Must Not Be Named. Observe how she has to applaud the reference herself, to make sure the orcs get the signal to act right on camera.
Well, who expected anything but glittering trivialities, capable of being uttered at either convention? All they need from her tonight is to show she's not as exotic as the emailed gullibles believe of her and her spouse. Now He waves from a huge monitor. Stevie Wonder's gushy song of little girls plays, and one daughter is allowed to approach the screen and call "Daddy". Frank Morgan played the part in 1939. Admittedly, not as well. (Though the little ones are hams.) And it fits because Da Wiz is actually in Kansas City, with a living room full of reassuringly pale couch spuds. Everything's up to date -- about 1953. (Just before Brown versus ... oh, you know.)
And we wrap up with a very Jesusy prayer ("Let Him be our example.") Then recess until tomorrow. And now he belongs to the pundits....
And a final thought: she did her job of showing that she is just chocolate-flavored mayonnaise, nothing to be afraid of. Tomorrow it's She Who Etc.'s turn to play Battered Candidate, and tell her own identity-obsessors that He Really Does Love Them This Time.
Well, I'm watching this, so I'll go on posting here and at The American Street. But if they are leading with their on-base hitters, then Pelosi and Mr. Goober are not making for a big inning tonight.
UPDATE: Carter says he was the first Pres from the deep south in a century. I'm dubious, considering LBJ and The Clenis. But later he proves it, talking about how the world is impressed to see "this boy". Yeah, that'll stir good memories, Killer Wabbit Smasher.
UPDATE: See, I told you this would be Home Sweet Home Night. Now they are showing a video of hard hats (some unconvincingly worn) putting up charity housing for Da Poor. It's the Carpenters Of The Lost Ward, bravely pushing back against the Swift Foreclosers of The Apocalypse.
UPDATE: So Santana faux-organ sounds lead us into a very tired-sounding Little Caroline -- the one who proved herself too dumb to unders
tand Darth's precedent and discover that she was herself the best Veep. Hey, sweetums, Uncle Bobby wouldn't have missed that chance. Of course, she's here to talk about her less ruthless unc, the amphibious chauffeur of the soap opera. Tenacity yields to timidity. McCarran's old aide has been reduced to an embalmed tool to accuse recent First Ladies of reviving the Phoenix Program domestically. Karma or kaka? Da utes doan care.
UPDATE: They see he may not make the next Con, so they're praising Chappacoward now. Diabetes symptoms will kick in soon. Oh, yeah, we know he's all for "national service". He'll even be the sponsor in the Senate of Rangel's carefully un-sexist new Save Our Children Act (aka "the draft", for we old farts with recall). They'll need that to the up the troop levels in Afghanistan while sending new ones into Georgia.
I'll bet you thought I meant the country of Georgia, not the state.
Ha. You wish.
UPDATE: In the stands, Joe "a Delaware corporatist" Biden applauds The Jowl From The Past, but looks really worried. He's not the only one wondering if Ted can even make it through the end of this, much less to next January. He's just as healthy as his ideas, sad to say for him. The guy who can't even carry his own state for his endorsed candidate is here for good-byes. It's all Nostalgia for Lost Causes. INOKIYAC ("if's not o. k. if your a Confederate"). As he dodders off, the planners sure better have a sharper someone soon, or ratings will crash and stay low for the rest of the week.
UPDATE: In the stands, Joe "a Delaware corporatist" Biden applauds The Jowl From The Past, but looks really worried. He's not the only one wondering if Ted can even make it through the end of this, much less to next January. He's just as healthy as his ideas, sad to say for him. The guy who can't even carry his own state for his endorsed candidate is here for good-byes. It's all Nostalgia for Lost Causes. INOKIYAC ("it's not o. k. if you're a Confederate"). As he dodders off, the planners sure better have a sharper someone soon, or ratings will crash and stay low for the rest of the week.
UPDATE: A bloody City Clerk? This just oozes Chicago Machine -- perhaps this man is not the best image of Change (TM).
UPDATE: Now we have someone who hired The One to come to Chicago as a "community organizer" for peanuts. (See how that Carter connection is still there? Oh, it's all planned like an overstuffed surrealist painting.) Indeed, Da Bruders in the erstwhile Second City were "bound and gagged, and they'd been chained to a chair", but it was the political gang running things that held the keys. Ol' Precious didn't even try to pick that lock. This reassures the remnants of Urban Demochines everywhere.
UPDATE: More walking zombies. Tom Harkin, who once screwed up the whole Presidential primary year by scaring all the serious candidates out of Iowa, introduces a Republican defector. Leach, or "Leech" as the self-proclaimed victims of imaginary usury by bankers used to call him when he chaired a committee, skipped the traces because the Cheneyistas weren't boring enough for him. Bipartisan tedium -- it's what's for dinner.
UPDATE: To introduce an unchosen veep from the Exhibitionist State, we have her offspring who is pushing for the Oborgs to sign in and get their orders from Brainiac, no doubt texting from Soros' Fortress of Solipstude. The state that sees dead people, and votes for them. Shouldn't that be considered a good sign for Mr. Beer Baroness' chance to carry Missouri?
McCasketville seems to be here to put forward the "good little kids from right next door to your very own cracker-barrel home" story for Bar and Mich, as Barb would say. Just oozing hominess. This smells like it's leading up to giving America's second African-American candidate for First Lady [yes, Mrs. Swift-boated was actually born in Africa] a blue carpet of reassurance for any rednecks still watching. Yep. Now a video with her mom priming her to be Mrs. America. I hate needles -- does insulin come in oral doses now?
UPDATE: It's worse. Now her brother is telling how she memorized every episode of the Brady Bunch. I really have to go barf and get something stronger to drink. I'll sign out on this post and start another one if I can stand it.
FINAL UPDATE: On second thought, there isn't enough left for another post, so I'll just finish this here.
Her Finally Proudness says her big brother was watching over her. I see where this is going. Eric Blair is spinning in his grave. If you want her vision of the future, picture a basketball coach making you stomp up and down the stands -- forever. "Mold our future into the shape of their ideals", indeed. Oh, that humanity was one lump of clay, that I might bake it into a chamber pot.
Now she throws a bone to She Who Must Not Be Named. Observe how she has to applaud the reference herself, to make sure the orcs get the signal to act right on camera.
Well, who expected anything but glittering trivialities, capable of being uttered at either convention? All they need from her tonight is to show she's not as exotic as the emailed gullibles believe of her and her spouse. Now He waves from a huge monitor. Stevie Wonder's gushy song of little girls plays, and one daughter is allowed to approach the screen and call "Daddy". Frank Morgan played the part in 1939. Admittedly, not as well. (Though the little ones are hams.) And it fits because Da Wiz is actually in Kansas City, with a living room full of reassuringly pale couch spuds. Everything's up to date -- about 1953. (Just before Brown versus ... oh, you know.)
And we wrap up with a very Jesusy prayer ("Let Him be our example.") Then recess until tomorrow. And now he belongs to the pundits....
And a final thought: she did her job of showing that she is just chocolate-flavored mayonnaise, nothing to be afraid of. Tomorrow it's She Who Etc.'s turn to play Battered Candidate, and tell her own identity-obsessors that He Really Does Love Them This Time.
