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I Am Not The Barber Of Seville
  
If Liberals really hated America, we'd all vote Republican.

I don't promise to know what I'm talking about.

Your indulgence is requested & appreciated.

Rightwingers, please burn no crosses on my lawn Sundays.
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Sweating The Election? Nov 7, 2006 1:36 pm
Mood: nervous, 877 Views
Me too.

I voted at 6:30 a.m., the first person to vote in my precinct. Then I spent a few hours driving voters to the polls.

And now we wait....

Barring big fat trouble, we'll likely know a lot early in the evening. Most of the critical stuff is Eastern Standard Time.

The Montana U.S. Senate race is important; that's Mountain Standard Time.

Many are calling a Democratic Party-controlled U.S. House of Representatives a done deal. Not me. It's always maybe, maybe not.

Here in the 11th District of North Carolina, we may at last expel Republican U.S. Representative Charles Taylor. Among Rep. Taylor's distinctions is his having been named One Of Congress' Most Corrupt Members. Even the very conservative Wall Street Journal has written about Rep. Taylor's 16 years of thievery.

For control of the U.S. Senate, Tennessee, Missouri, Virginia, Rhode Island, Montana & Maryland are the nail-biters we know of. There'll be others. As of today, the Democrats getting the Senate too seems a long shot to me.

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 . . . .

In my fridge I have two bottles chilling:
1 of Champagne
1 of Rat Poison

LMAO

And an extra-special Thank You to SFF for deleting my blog post last Friday. Profanity, they said. I used a three-letter acronym implying that the president may enjoy a partially canine parentage.

I already posted this piece hours ago with a different title. SFF failed to put it up. Because it included no "profanity," this is unsatisfactory.

That's twice they've pulled this. If it persists I'll probably give up blogging here. And my Gold SFF Membership too.
18 Comments
Please Go Vote! Nov 6, 2006 8:05 am
Mood: crazy, 797 Views
Regardless of which side you're on, exercise your franchise!

VOTE!!

Please.

I've volunteered to drive voters of any party affiliation to the polls Tuesday.

After agonizing over it, I decided I will not require those voters with whom I disagree to ride in the trunk.
13 Comments
Questions & Stuff Nov 5, 2006 1:57 pm
Mood: curious, 801 Views
(1)It's worth noting that:

(a) Saddam Hussein ordered an unprovoked invasion of Kuwait. The resulting war targeted and killed innocent civilians. Thousands of his own people lost their lives.
(b) George W. Bush ordered an unprovoked invasion of Iraq. The resulting war trargeted and killed innocent civilians. Thousands of his own people lost their lives.

(2) It's worth asking:

(3) Considering what both these guys have done, shouldn't they probably be cellmates?

NO! And that's really my answer.

(4)Why the hell is that?

Only one reason: Bush has more guns. The guy with more guns writes the history and makes the rules. Might makes right.

(5) Who says might makes right?

Well, Bush, for one. Remember all those guns.

Might does make right. Or it looks that way. Temporarily anyhow. For now, we're stuck with it.

But I hope Tuesday the voters will revoke George Bush's license to rule dictatorially--virtually as an American king--as he has ruled for nearly six years. America and the whole world have had enough.
20 Comments
This Blog: Holy mackerel, it's still here! Bush to give Saddam New Necktie 4 Xmas Nov 3, 2006 12:27 pm
Mood: confused, 772 Views
Shortly after 3 p.m. EST, this blog's title disappeared from the list. Apparently SFF deleted it. I have now reposted it.

Should SFF delete it again, I may reconsdier renewing my premium SFF membership.

And Saddam's also gonna get a chance to help his pal George W. Bush in the bargain.

Cool, huh?

Because:

The verdict in Saddam Hussein's Baghdad death-penalty trial will be announced this coming Sunday, less than forty-eight hours before the U.S. 2006 Midterm Elections. The verdict had originally been scheduled for announcement several weeks ago.

But in his pre-election desperation, George W. Bush delayed the verdict announcement til Sunday so that voters would spend Monday bombarded with news of Saddam's conviction and sentencing. Obviously Bush thinks we're so stupid that this'll make us vote Tuesday to keep Republican crooks controlling the U.S. House and U.S. Senate.

George W. Bush again refuses to do anything honestly.
-------------------------------------------------This is a MediaMatters.org Friday, 11/3 news story:

White House Launches Campaign To Politicize Saddam Verdict Ahead of Midterm Elections

The verdict in the trial of former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein was recently postponed until November 5, two days before the U.S. midterm elections. Media Matters has questioned whether “the date for the verdict’s release [was] set to provide maximum political benefit for the administration and congressional Republicans.”

Asked today whether the verdict would be a factor in the U.S. elections, White House Press Secretary Tony Snow said, “You are absolutely right, it will be a factor.” Snow said the verdict “may fit into a larger narrative about an Iraqi government that has been doing what the president has said all along.” He portrayed the decision as yet another turning point for Iraq. “This is a benchmark episode, where the Iraqi people are taking control of their own destiny,” he said.

The day Hussein was captured, President Bush addressed the nation. He said the capture “marks the end his of the road…for all who bullied and killed in his name.” For ordinary Iraqis, it was “further assurance that the torture chambers and the secret police are gone forever.” Bush said, “A hopeful day has arrived. All Iraqis can now come together and reject violence and build a new Iraq.”

In the three years since, all of these claims have come undone. Since Hussein was captured:

– 2,358 U.S. soldiers have died, roughly 85 percent of the total U.S. fatalities during the Iraq war.
– Iraq has “become the cause celebre for jihadists, breeding a deep resentment of US involvement in the Muslim world and cultivating supporters for the global jihadist movement.”
– torture in Iraq “may be worse now than it was under Saddam Hussein, with militias, terrorist groups and government forces disregarding rules on the humane treatment of prisoners,” the U.N.’s anti-torture chief said in September.
– Prospects for the “new Iraq” have fallen sharply. The 10-member bipartisan commission that is charged with assessing Bush’s Iraq strategy has reportedly “ruled out the prospect for victory.”
14 Comments
Kerry Warns Kids: Study A$$ Off Or Be President Nov 1, 2006 5:13 am
Mood: amused, 743 Views
Massachusetts Senator John F. Kerry issued a stark warning to America's young people: screw up in school and you'll end up in the White House. Kerry warned that the U.S. presidency has become a dumping ground for dumba$$es and mentioned President George W. Bush as a case in point.

"Just look what's happened to poor old Bush," Kerry said. "His daddy got him into Harvard and Yale. And what did George Bush do? Got drunk and passed out nightly in the bathtub til he was 40."

Kerry shuddered at the thought, then continued.

"Eventually Dubya's daddy got tired of mopping up the spilled Budweiser. So he got a bunch of judges he knew to make George Jr. the president. The old man said he figured age 54 was old enough for the kid to have his first real job."

A pained expression came over Kerry's face.

"But just look what Dubya's done with it. He's become the world's most disliked man. Almost everybody everywhere thinks he's evil and stupid. Bush goes over to Europe and every man, woman and child in the place shows up with signs telling him to 'Go home,' and 'Grow up,' and 'Grow a brain.'

"And there's good reason for it. Turn on CNN any day of the week. What do you see? I'll tell you what you see. You see some Bhutanese bricklayer speaking better English than George Bush, who's president of the United States. And you see Hugo Chavez, that crazy South American dictator, reporting to the United Nations that Bush acts like Satan and smells just like sulphur."

Kerry's face grew even longer than usual.

"We all take for granted that Bush is an evil dope. We can live with that. It's one thing to act evil and stupid. But smelling like sulphur?? Now that George Bush has quit passing out in bathtubs, he should at least bathe in one now and then."

As though to echo Kerry's warning, Tuesday the Center For Science In The Public Interest warned young people that living on McDonald's french fies can make them the size of a recreational vehicle. The Center said that may put them at risk of becoming vice president of the United States like dick Cheney, the only man in America whose poll numbers are even worse than George Bush's.
13 Comments
A Classic Ghost Story Oct 31, 2006 3:51 pm
606 Views
August Heat
by W. F. Harvey

PHENISTONE ROAD, CLAPHAM,
August 20th, 190—.

I have had what I believe to be the most remarkable day in my life, and while the events are still fresh in my mind, I wish to put them down on paper as clearly as possible.

Let me say at the outset that my name is James Clarence Withencroft.

I am forty years old, in perfect health, never having known a day's illness.

By profession I am an artist, not a very successful one, but I earn enough money by my black-and- white work to satisfy my necessary wants.

My only near relative, a sister, died five years ago, so that I am independent. I breakfasted this morning at nine, and after glancing through the morning paper I lighted my pipe and proceeded to let my mind wander in the hope that I might chance upon some subject for my pencil.

The room, though door and windows were open, was oppressively hot, and I had just made up my mind that the coolest and most comfortable place in the neighbourhood would be the deep end of the public swimming bath, when the idea came.

I began to draw. So intent was I on my work that I left my lunch untouched, oniy stopping work when the clock of St. Jude's struck four.

The final result, for a hurried sketch, was, I felt sure, the best thing I had done. It showed a criminal in the dock immediately after the judge had pronounced sentence. The man was fat— enormously fat. The flesh hung in rolls about his chin; it creased his huge, stumpy neck. He was clean shaven (perhaps I should say a few days before he must have been clean shaven) and almost bald. He stood in the dock, his short, clumsy fingers clasping the rail, looking straight in front of him. The feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror as of utter, absolute collapse.

There seemed nothing in the man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh.

I rolled up the sketch, and without quite knowing why, placed it in my pocket. Then with the rare sense of happiness which the knowledge of a good thing well done gives, I left the house.

I believe that I set out with the idea of calling upon Trenton, for I remember walking along Lytton Street and turning to the right along Gilchrist Road at the bottom of the hill where the men were at work on the new tram lines.

From there onwards I have only the vaguest recollection of where I went. The one thing of which I was fully conscious was the awful heat, that came up from the dusty asphalt pavement as an almost palpable wave. I longed for the thunder promised by the great banks of copper-coloured cloud that hung low over the western sky.

I must have walked five or six miles, when a small boy roused me from my reverie by asking the time.

It was twenty minutes to seven.

When he left me I began to take stock of my bearings. I found myself standing before a gate that led into a yard bordered by a strip of thirsty earth, where there were flowers, purple stock and scarlet geranium. Above the entrance was a board with the inscription—

CHS. ATKINSON. MONUMENTAL MASON.
WORKER IN ENGLISH AND ITALIAN MARBLES

From the yard itself came a cheery whistle, the noise of hammer blows, and the cold sound of steel meeting stone.

A sudden impulse made me enter.

A man was sitting with his back towards me, busy at work on a slab of curiously veined marble. He turned round as he heard my steps and I stopped short.

It was the man I had been drawing, whose portrait lay in my pocket.

He sat there, huge and elephantine, the sweat pouring from his scalp, which he wiped with a red silk handkerchief. But though the face was the same, the expression was absolutely different.

He greeted me smiling, as if we were old friends, and shook my hand.

I apologised for my intrusion.

"Everything is hot and glary outside," I said. "This seems an oasis in the wilderness."

"I don't know about the oasis," he replied, "but it certainly is hot, as hot as hell. Take a seat, sir!"

He pointed to the end of the gravestone on which he was at work, and I sat down.

"That's a beautiful piece of stone you've got hold of," I said.

He shook his head. "In a way it is," he answered; "the surface here is as fine as anything you could wish, but there's a big flaw at the back, though I don't expect you'd ever notice it. I could never make really a good job of a bit of marble like that. It would be all right in the summer like this; it wouldn't mind the blasted heat. But wait till the winter comes. There's nothing quite like frost to find out the weak points in stone."

"Then what's it for?" I asked.

The man burst out laughing.

"You'd hardly believe me if I was to tell you it's for an exhibition, but it's the truth. Artists have exhibitions: so do grocers and butchers; we have them too. All the latest little things in headstones, you know."

He went on to talk of marbles, which sort best withstood wind and rain, and which were easiest to work; then of his garden and a new sort of carnation he had bought. At the end of every other minute he would drop his tools, wipe his shining head, and curse the heat.

I said little, for I felt uneasy. There was something unnatural, uncanny, in meeting this man.

I tried at first to persuade myself that I had seen him before, that his face, unknown to me, had found a place in some out-of-the-way corner of my memory, but I knew that I was practising little more than a plausible piece of self-deception.

Mr. Atkinson finished his work, spat on the ground, and got up with a sigh of relief.

"There! what do you think of that?" he said, with an air of evident pride. The inscription which I read for the first time was this—

SACRED TO THE MEMORY
OF
JAMES CLARENCE WITHENCROFT.

BORN JAN. 18TH, 1860.

HE PASSED AWAY VERY SUDDENLY
ON AUGUST 20TH, 190—
"In the midst of life we are in death."

For some time I sat in silence. Then a cold shudder ran down my spine. I asked him where he had seen the name.

"Oh, I didn't see it anywhere," replied Mr. Atkinson. "I wanted some name, and I put down the first that came into my head. Why do you want to know?"

"It's a strange coincidence, but it happens to be mine." He gave a long, low whistle.

"And the dates?"

"I can only answer for one of them, and that's correct."

"It's a rum go!" he said.

But he knew less than I did. I told him of my morning's work. I took the sketch from my pocket and showed it to him. As he looked, the expression of his face altered until it became more and more like that of the man I had drawn.

"And it was only the day before yesterday," he said, "that I told Maria there were no such things as ghosts!"

Neither of us had seen a ghost, but I knew what he meant.

"You probably heard my name," I said.

"And you must have seen me somewhere and have forgotten it! Were you at Clacton-on-Sea last July?"

I had never been to Clacton in my life. We were silent for some time. We were both looking at the same thing, the two dates on the gravestone, and one was right.

"Come inside and have some supper," said Mr. Atkinson.

His wife was a cheerful little woman, with the flaky red cheeks of the country-bred. Her husband introduced me as a friend of his who was an artist. The result was unfortunate, for after the sardines and watercress had been removed, she brought out a Doré Bible, and I had to sit and express my admiration for nearly half an hour.

I went outside, and found Atkinson sitting on the gravestone smoking.

We resumed the conversation at the point we had left off. "You must excuse my asking," I said, "but do you know of anything you've done for which you could be put on trial?"

He shook his head. "I'm not a bankrupt, the business is prosperous enough. Three years ago I gave turkeys to some of the guardians at Christmas, but that's all I can think of. And they were small ones, too," he added as an afterthought.

He got up, fetched a can from the porch, and began to water the flowers. "Twice a day regular in the hot weather," he said, "and then the heat sometimes gets the better of the delicate ones.

And ferns, good Lord! they could never stand it. Where do you live?"

I told him my address. It would take an hour's quick walk to get back home.

"It's like this," he said. "We'1l look at the matter straight. If you go back home to-night, you take your chance of accidents. A cart may run over you, and there's always banana skins and orange peel, to say nothing of fallen ladders."

He spoke of the improbable with an intense seriousness that would have been laughable six hours before. But I did not laugh.

"The best thing we can do," he continued, "is for you to stay here till twelve o'clock. We'll go upstairs and smoke, it may be cooler inside."

To my surprise I agreed.

* * *

We are sitting now in a long, low room beneath the eaves. Atkinson has sent his wife to bed. He himself is busy sharpening some tools at a little oilstone, smoking one of my cigars the while.

The air seems charged with thunder. I am writing this at a shaky table before the open window.

The leg is cracked, and Atkinson, who seems a handy man with his tools, is going to mend it as soon as he has finished putting an edge on his chisel.

It is after eleven now. I shall be gone in less than an hour.

But the heat is stifling.

It is enough to send a man mad.
-------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
Influenced by Edgar Allan Poe, W. F. Harvey also wrote "The Beast With Five Fingers," another classic tale from which a Peter Lorre movie was made in the late 40s. Harvey was trained as a surgeon.
2 Comments
Rush Limbaugh Claims Jesus Christ Faked Crucifixion Oct 26, 2006 11:44 am
692 Views
Conservative talk-show host Rush Limbaugh followed his attack on actor and Parkinson's Disease sufferer Michael J. Fox by charging that Jesus Christ faked his own crucifixion to get undesirables admitted to heaven. Limbaugh had alleged Fox exaggerated his Parkinson's symptoms in an ad supporting a Democratic senatorial candidate.

An annoyed Limbaugh said, "We conservative Republicans are furious that because of Jesus Democrats, paupers, orphans and other losers can get into heaven with us." He want on to say that heaven should be reserved for "only the very best clientele," those capable of paying expensive intitation fees.

"Next thing you know, this liberal whacko Jesus guy will have me spending eternity in heaven with some grimy, penniless Wal-Mart employee. Where the hell's the fairness in that?" Mr. Limbaugh asked.

Limbaugh charged that Christ had cleverly used theater props and food products in faking the crucifixion.

"Anyone could see those were fake nails and that was a fake spear they poked him with. It didn't even come out his other side, now did it? Are you getting this? And that wasn't real blood either. It was Heinz 57 ketchup! Resurrection, schmesurrection!" Limbaugh fumed, observing that the wife of a recent Democratic presidential candidate had been married to a member of the Heinz ketchup family.

Mr. Christ was not immediately available for comment.

In other political news, possible 2008 Republican presidential candidate Newt Gingrich announced he will immediately divorce his wife because she refuses to accompany Gingrich on the March 2007 harp seal hunt. "She's a sob sister who just refuses to loosen up and have a little fun," Mr. Gingrich said.

At the hunt, Gingrich and other wealthy Republican tourists will join professional seal hunters in clubbing thousands of baby harp seals to death.
17 Comments
When Insults Had Panache Oct 25, 2006 8:51 am
Mood: nostalgic, 599 Views
The usual chatroom "Up yer @#$ & @#$% you you @#$%ing @#$hole" bespeaks a modern Verbal Poverty Of The pissed-Off. Can't say I never said stuff just like that myself & I'm as guilty of it as the next guy.

So that we all might do better, here are a few historic icons of the literate insult:
--------------------------------------------------

Lady Astor to Winston Churchill: “Winston, if you were my husband I would flavor your coffee with poison.” Churchill: “Madam, if I were your husband, I should drink it.”

Bessie Braddock to Churchill: “Winston, you are drunk!” Churchill: “Bessie, you are ugly, but tomorrow morning I shall be sober”

“He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.” – Winston Churchill

“A modest little person, with much to be modest about.” – Churchill (about Clement Attlee)

“I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.” – Clarence Darrow

“He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.” – William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)

“Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I’ll waste no time reading it.” – Moses Hadas

“He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know.” – Abraham Lincoln

“I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn’t it.” – Groucho Marx

“I didn’t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.” – Mark Twain

“He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.” – Oscar Wilde

“I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend ... if you have one.” – George Bernard Shaw, to Churchill

“Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second ... if there is one.” – Churchill, in response

“I feel so miserable without you, it’s almost like having you here.” – Stephen Bishop

“I’ve just learned about his illness. Let’s hope it’s nothing trivial.” – Irvin S. Cobb

“He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others.” – Samuel Johnson

“He had delusions of adequacy.” – Walter Kerr

“He loves nature in spite of what it did to him.” – Forrest Tucker

“Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.” – Oscar Wilde
5 Comments
SFF women! This man is a major-league PLAYER. Oct 24, 2006 10:34 am
Mood: mischievous, 847 Views
N'est pas?
36 Comments
Is Bush's October Surprise Already Underway? Oct 23, 2006 10:15 am
694 Views
Is Bush's October Surprise underway?

Agence France-Presse reports the U.S. "is tracking a North Korean ship described as suspicious by a U.S. official." The vessel may be carrying military equipment banned under UN sanctions imposed after North Korea carried out a nuclear test on Oct. 9., AFP said, citing a CBS News report.

Could this ship or one like it become the Republicans' majority-saving October Surprise?

This country won't lie down for another Bush preemptive war. And the possibility of getting caught makes any false-flag operation like a faked Iranian attack on a U.S. ship or plane a tremendous risk.

Done this way, the Bush October Surprise wouldn't be a false-flag op. Or a new war. There'd be not a shot fired.

In this scenario, there'll be a brief brouhaha allowing Bush to go on live national TV a few days prior to the election and say, "This dangerous confrontation with the Communist nuclear power North Korea makes it vital to United States national security that I keep this strong Republican Congress to back up our brave troops." And blah, blah, blah.

It'd probably work.

What could anyone do or say, except to fall into patriotic line behind Bush? Which the Democrats would immediately do. With the election behind him, Bush simply does what's necessary to resolve the fake "crisis."

I bet it'd cut the anticipated Republican election losses dramatically....

Guess we'll see shortly. But regardless of what happens with this ship, the Republicans likely won't sit idle as their House and Senate majorities fly out a window.

Something's going to happen. Somewhere. Soon.
14 Comments
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