We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
How the hell would I know what's going on in Iraq?
That is to say, I've seen the cooter of every trashy teenage "singer" getting out of car and going to a party. I've seen all I need to see of Brangelina and the football team of children they're trying to purchase wholesale instead of doing it retail like we all do. I've seen drivel and piffle and nonsense; I know that Anna Nicole Smith's "anus is unremarkable," since I've read her autopsy. WTF is going on in Iraq? Are there any paparazzi there?
Don't get me wrong. The media has not fallen asleep or anything. I know, for instance, that Bush is Hitler. I know every permutation of his brownshirt perfidy. I've seen and read and heard eleventy billion soliloquies, with photoshopped picture learning aids, exquisitely detailing his crimes against humanity, nature, and God-- except there isn't a god, of course. Silly me. And I'm beginning to supect Helen Thomas doesn't like him much, either. And yes, I understand that Bushitler had a ninja army of mercenary big tobacco executives and Enron jacklegs and someone named Scooter precisely plant explosives during lunchtime when the buildings are empty to blow up the World Trade Center to start his illegal war for oil. I get all that.
My bad. Let's not exaggerate. When you report these things, the hair farmer at the network desk always says:
"Some say" George Bush had a ninja army of big tobacco executives and Enron jacklegs and someone named Scooter ...
Finally, Katie Couric went to Iraq. Now we're getting somewhere. I read with studied interest her dispatch, because her Ernie Pyle style would doubtless clue me in to whole situation there. The Intertoob thingie must have had a kind of interstellar binary paper jam, as I read some sort of note apparently written by a teenage girl describing how grim life at summer camp is because the compressor on the ice cream refrigerator is busted and now we don't have any ice cream. And boy, it's hot and there's no ice cream. The end.
You'll have to expend a lot of effort, it seems, to have any idea what the hell is going on in Iraq. If you Google "unreported Iraq," for instance, there's plenty about Haditha, which was plenty reported. It was so very reported, for a while. The last report I got about it was that it made John Murtha get an unlisted phone number. But since pictures of flag draped coffins are not allowed by the fascist regime we've got going, there really is nothing to report until Nancy Pelosi puts on a scarf again.
Perhaps I'll try the Intergoogle again, and see if I can find out anything about what it's like to be a soldier in Iraq. I guess since everyone on TV and radio and the newspapers are going to talk only about themselves, we should let the soldiers do likewise.
roger de hauteville
Miss Teeen USA Pagent..
THE question for Miss Teen South Carolina.
Blah Blah...20% of Americans can't locate our country on a World map...
Her answer....YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WALIARHHLII
now ranks with some of Jeff Spicoli, (Fast Times At Ridgemont High) best lines..but get this.
Lauren Caitlin Upton completed her government schooling and received high grades – a 3.50 GPA. She was an honor student. She completed all the qualifications and did so admirably. She didn't finish at the bottom of the class or even in the middle. She finished at the top.
Didchu 'n Trenton share a cold sore? Thas discutin. I thiank he's a foot-tappre ef yew kno whut I meen cos he hadent ast me fore sum fore yeers an I am hot dont you kno. I aint' sayin' yew ar but ef not, why yew sharin a cole sore weth thet sorry basterd? Yuk.
Mrs. Trenton Miller
mercy --i feel like an entrapped senator or somethin'