Month: November 2012

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Truly saddened

Well, one thing became abundantly clear last night- we have become a nation of takers and the adults are no longer in charge. I’m truly frightened for my country.

Enjoy your victory, kids. Let’s hope it wasn’t as Pyrrhic as I think it is.

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Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

I finally had to sit down and laugh at myself- I am currently the living embodiment of dither and can’t. accomplish. a. goddamn. thing., too distracted. How happy will I be when 7PM rolls around?

[jwplayer mediaid=”1089″]

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Goodbye and all that

Na na na na, na na na na, hey-hey-hey, goodbye!*

By tomorrow night we’ll likely know the name of the next president. But we already know the loser in this election cycle: political reporters. They’ve disgraced themselves. Conservatives have long complained about liberal bias in the media, and with some justification. But it has finally reached the tipping point. Not in our lifetimes have so many in the press dropped the pretense of objectivity in order to help a political candidate. The media are rooting for Barack Obama. They’re not hiding it.

Yeah, the mask has slipped for good I think. No longer can the general public kid themselves that the Mainstream Media calculatedly reports the truth- in fact, the truth just ain’t in ’em. For once- maybe for just this one brief shining moment- I feel vindicated in what I’ve been telling anyone who would listen for the last 20-odd years – THEY LIE.

[contented sigh]

*apologies to Stevie Wonder, who can only draw 200 even when he performs w/the Preznit.

via The Daily Caller

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Gonna be a busy weekend on the ‘net

https://twitter.com/jeromewilson43/status/264721041509740544

https://twitter.com/TexasLighthouse/status/264724017712345088

https://twitter.com/TexasLighthouse/status/264725646314467328

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Kipling on Benghazi, 2012

via National Review

Mesopotamia

They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young,
The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave:
But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung,
Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?

They shall not return to us; the strong men coldly slain
In sight of help denied from day to day:
But the men who edged their agonies and chid them in their pain,
Are they too strong and wise to put away?

Our dead shall not return to us while Day and Night divide–
Never while the bars of sunset hold.
But the idle-minded overlings who quibbled while they died,
Shall they thrust for high employments as of old?

Shall we only threaten and be angry for an hour:
When the storm is ended shall we find
How softly but how swiftly they have sidled back to power
By the favour and contrivance of their kind?

Even while they soothe us, while they promise large amends,
Even while they make a show of fear,
Do they call upon their debtors, and take counsel with their friends,
To conform and re-establish each career?

Their lives cannot repay us–their death could not undo–
The shame that they have laid upon our race.
But the slothfulness that wasted and the arrogance that slew,
Shall we leave it unabated in its place?

Rudyard Kipling, 1917