Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Moving Day
I'll be moving to http://andrightlyso.com starting today. Y'all come on over and see my first post.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
A Slow Slide Into Fascism?
The cost of food had risen dramatically, Government had jumped in to save heavy industry. The cost of common goods had risen beyond the means of many. Fuel was hard to come by.
Germany 1932? Nope, the U.S. today.
Fascism is described as the cooperation and blending of business and government. Friday, we inched closer to that goal with the so-called "Bailout." Now, government can purchase businesses by bying their bad debt or by buying the stock. 700 Billion dollars have been pledged to this effort, and an additional 25 billion to the automakers. And, sad to say, both Democrats who likely danced with glee and Republicans which should have known better participated in this catastrophe.
Well, screw them both. If it weren't for Sarahcuda I'd likely not vote this year, she's the one bright hope for conservative values and even she has a few quirks. But at least she's not Obama. Now there it a proto-fascist for you! Don't believe me? Then take a gander at these two photographs. See any similarities?
It would appear that Mr. Obama has learned some poses from the master of poses himself!
Ridicule? Of course I'm ridiculing Obama.
Germany 1932? Nope, the U.S. today.
Fascism is described as the cooperation and blending of business and government. Friday, we inched closer to that goal with the so-called "Bailout." Now, government can purchase businesses by bying their bad debt or by buying the stock. 700 Billion dollars have been pledged to this effort, and an additional 25 billion to the automakers. And, sad to say, both Democrats who likely danced with glee and Republicans which should have known better participated in this catastrophe.
Well, screw them both. If it weren't for Sarahcuda I'd likely not vote this year, she's the one bright hope for conservative values and even she has a few quirks. But at least she's not Obama. Now there it a proto-fascist for you! Don't believe me? Then take a gander at these two photographs. See any similarities?
It would appear that Mr. Obama has learned some poses from the master of poses himself!
Ridicule? Of course I'm ridiculing Obama.
Dictators, tyrants, and those who aspire to seize and keep power by intimidationAnd if you think I'm kidding about the slide into fascism? Take a gander at this little bit of fascistic film making:
and force can tolerate no public ridicule. They generally harbor grandiose
self-images with little bearing on how people really think of them. They require
a controlled political environment, reinforced by sycophants and toadies, to
preserve an impenetrable image…[“Ridicule as a Weapon” by J. Michael Waller]
At least that's how I see it on this side of the Pecos River!
The Girl and the Metrosexual!
This metrosexual was headed for his favorite singles bar along with a friend who had also been able to convert to metrosexualism in college. Both were lighthearted and carefree. They had good jobs, contributed generously to the Democratic Party and to The One up to the max limit that either the federal government would allow, or their common sense in the case of the DNC would allow. At any rate, it was a lot of money.
Now, Flannigans Bar on Main Street in the metropolis was about as good a singles bar as you can find anywhere. In fact, Metrosexual and his friend had both scored there a number of times and found some young pretty to share their bed for the night. But tonight was to be special and both were duded up to the nines if you will allow the mixing of terms decades apart. At any rate, both were flush with money from bonuses earned the easy way - sucking up to the boss, and looking forward to an evening of libation, intoxication and perhaps even a little sex to cap off the evening.
"When we go in, we go our separate ways that way we don't tread on each other," said Metrosexual.
"Fine by me," said his friend.
And so it was, they entered Flannigans and began the hunt. Metrosexual immediately spied a beautiful, slightly older woman at the end of the bar, sipping on what looked like coffee in a white china mug.
"Buy you a drink?"Metrosexual asked.
"No thanks,' she answered, 'I'm waiting for my husband."
"Well,' said Metrosexual thinking quickly, 'he's not here now so I'll just sit here if you don't mind and have my own drink."
"Free country," she answered.
Idle chatter soon ensued between Metrosexual and the lady, in which Metrosexual waxed poetic about the coming of The One and how the evil rethuglicans would finally be tossed on their collective butts and Amerikkka would again become America.
"I work for Freddy Mac,' says our hero, 'buying up a lot of sub-prime mortages. But between you and me, we are slightly inflating the values so the boss can get his performance bonus and we in turn get our shot at power in Washington."
"I know,' said the lady, 'and I think it's despicable. You are harming the very people you are purporting to help and your fearless leader isn't any better. His taxes and social policy will spell the end of freedom and prosperity in this country. In fact, it sounds suspisciously like fascism to me and I'm going to do everything I can to kick your bloated carcass across the Patomic!!"
"Well, if I can't get to first base with you, can I at least have your name?"
"Sarah Palin," said the lady as she pulled out her lipstick.
Now, Flannigans Bar on Main Street in the metropolis was about as good a singles bar as you can find anywhere. In fact, Metrosexual and his friend had both scored there a number of times and found some young pretty to share their bed for the night. But tonight was to be special and both were duded up to the nines if you will allow the mixing of terms decades apart. At any rate, both were flush with money from bonuses earned the easy way - sucking up to the boss, and looking forward to an evening of libation, intoxication and perhaps even a little sex to cap off the evening.
"When we go in, we go our separate ways that way we don't tread on each other," said Metrosexual.
"Fine by me," said his friend.
And so it was, they entered Flannigans and began the hunt. Metrosexual immediately spied a beautiful, slightly older woman at the end of the bar, sipping on what looked like coffee in a white china mug.
"Buy you a drink?"Metrosexual asked.
"No thanks,' she answered, 'I'm waiting for my husband."
"Well,' said Metrosexual thinking quickly, 'he's not here now so I'll just sit here if you don't mind and have my own drink."
"Free country," she answered.
Idle chatter soon ensued between Metrosexual and the lady, in which Metrosexual waxed poetic about the coming of The One and how the evil rethuglicans would finally be tossed on their collective butts and Amerikkka would again become America.
"I work for Freddy Mac,' says our hero, 'buying up a lot of sub-prime mortages. But between you and me, we are slightly inflating the values so the boss can get his performance bonus and we in turn get our shot at power in Washington."
"I know,' said the lady, 'and I think it's despicable. You are harming the very people you are purporting to help and your fearless leader isn't any better. His taxes and social policy will spell the end of freedom and prosperity in this country. In fact, it sounds suspisciously like fascism to me and I'm going to do everything I can to kick your bloated carcass across the Patomic!!"
"Well, if I can't get to first base with you, can I at least have your name?"
"Sarah Palin," said the lady as she pulled out her lipstick.
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