Wonkette
While you hamburger sacks may conceive of Memorial Day as little more than a free 24-hour session of experimental masturbation R&D, it is actually a “memorial” to those Americans, throughout our History, who have laid down their lives in the service of the King. Your Wonkette would like to thank and honor The Troops past and present, in Mexico and Afghanistan, in Vietnam and Cambodia VIETNAM. Because as notable American word-writer Peggington Noonington opines today, the U.S. hasn’t celebrated any brave war heroes since the strife of the Sixties. (She offers no mention of two of the most popular Americans in America right now, Colin Powell and David Petraeus; perhaps she had imbibed too much Alckoholl.) Let us quote her words and hope that one day, George Washington shall be worthy to our hobbits anew.
More than most nations, America has been, from its start, a hero-loving place. Maybe part of the reason is that at our founding we were a Protestant nation and not a Catholic one, and so we made “saints” of civil and political figures. George Washington was our first national hero, known everywhere, famous to children. When he died, we had our first true national mourning, with cities and states re-enacting his funeral. There was the genius cluster that surrounded him, and invented us—Jefferson, Adams, Madison, Hamilton. Through much of the 20th century our famous heroes were in sports (Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis, the Babe, Joltin’ Joe) the arts (Clark Gable, Robert Frost) business and philanthropy (from Andrew Carnegie to Bill Gates) and religion (Billy Graham). Nobody does fame like America, and they were famous.
The category of military hero—warrior—fell off a bit, in part because of the bad reputation of war. Some emerged of heroic size—Gens. Pershing and Patton, Eisenhower and Marshall. But somewhere in the 1960s I think we decided, or the makers of our culture decided, that to celebrate great warriors was to encourage war. And we always have too much of that. So they made a lot of movies depicting soldiers as victims and officers as brutish. This was especially true in the Vietnam era and the years that followed. Maybe a correction was in order: It’s good to remember war is hell. But when we removed the warrior, we removed something intensely human, something ancestral and stirring, something celebrated naturally throughout the long history of man. Also it was ungrateful: They put themselves in harm’s way for us.
For Memorial Day, then, three warriors, two previously celebrated but not so known now by the young.
Meh, haven’t read the rest, and it’s just about time… ah, right now actually, is time to go play the soccer game on Xbox.
Happy warring, Peggy & Wonkette readers! And keep safe, Troops.
Those Who Make Us Say “Oh!” [Yowza! -- Ed.] [Wall Street Journal]
I don’t believe Dame Peggington of Nooningtonshire scribed that! Not for one minute! It was most definitely the “Demer-Ol” typing.
if the vietnam experience hadn’t been such a colossal upfuck for young columbia, maybe a sour taste would not have lingered for so long over affairs military. for my part, i raise a glass in remembrance this weekend for an uncle who died too young (18) at the outset of our innocent nation’s first instance of imperial overreaching, that been the imbroglio in korea. remember that one, tragedy fans? that’s the one where we first began learning how to lose wars without ever admitting we were losing wars.
We get to see the intensely human Henry Kissinger on TV all the time. It’s a shame, though, that the demonization of our heros prohibits some good story telling about his “everything that flies on anything that moves” exploits in Cambodia. Also, he’s getting older so we don’t hear about his sex-action exploits anymore, either.
Wait, this isn’t supposed to be a celebration of the charring of various animal fleshes on the altar of barbeque? Fuck me…
I, personally, am sprinkling the ashes of Audie Murphy on my hamburger this weekend.
Thank God we have the invasion of Panama to look back on favorably.
slappypaddy: “that being” — glass already gettin raised
Ah, Vietnam! Such an innocent time. I was but a wee lad, helping my father avoid the draft by sitting calmly in the middle of a marijuana field in Nebraska while my parents, as was the custom of the time, joyously lit up and inhaled. I believe the state troopers that eventually arrived and ruined our bucolic gathering fed me ice cream. Good times, those.
The category of military hero—warrior—fell off a bit, in part because of the bad reputation of war.
Right — war had such a crappy reputation after Washington and before Reagan restored its image by liberating 300 medical students in his couragous action in Granada. Which is why no warriors got elected president between those two. With the possible exceptions of Andrew Jackson, W.H. Harrison (not that he mattered much), Zachary Taylor, US Grant, Teddy Roosevelt and Ike Eisenhower (sorry if I missed anybody).
Pegs needs a Twattletalk tuck.
Jim, what’s Vietnam?
Oh Peggy. I love it when she straps on her black barbed bustier and tartan plaid love thong and sings, “Just a spoonful of torture helps the medicine go down”. She’s smart like a whip that girl.
Ok. I’m serious right now,and I’ll be funny later. Please think of my 19 year old daughter who leaves in July, to serve in the Navy (on an Aircraft Carrier). Her father leaves in August, to serve 18 months in Afghanistan, on the Pakistan border. We are all democrats, and we all support Obama. I’m scared shitless, and I’ve cried so many tears…you will never imagine. So, before I go to snark, can ya’ll just forgive me for this one “mushy” post? thanks.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: I haven’t a clue, and it’s not on Google either.
Let us also praise those who sent our heroes to their deaths: Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld, just to name a few from the most recent act of imperial hubris. The men & women of our nation answer the call to serve even when cowardly cretins make that call.
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
Remember that, 5-time deferment Cheney.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Noonan had been war protester in her youth. Baby Boomers are such duplicitous and narcissistic fucks. They were already well on the way to being the first generation to leave the country in worse shape for their children before they torched the economy. The worst part of the economic crisis is the Baby Boomers delayed retirement, which means they will continue to run the country (into the ground) for some time. Now they whining about how they never got to be war heros! Our country should save money (and its soul) by denying healthcare to anyone born in the early postwar period.
chascates: Thank you, and you are SO FUCKING RIGHT! We send kids to do a job, that these sorry cowardly mother-fuckers wouldn’t risk their lives for! Think of the these kids. Think of them, for me, if that is ok!
Pegs is so boring when she writes dutiful, venerating stuff like this. Frankly, she did her best work when she thought the mike was off in Saint Paul, the foul-mouthed little minx.
NoSoupForYou: God speed to your daughter & husband(?).
Turd Way: Yikes! You’re the reason I’m always super polite to the younger crowd! I know you might unplug my respirator once I get to the ‘home.’
Texan Bulldoggette: Thank you! Ok. I’m done with the tears and going “snark” now. Lol. One has to laugh, right? lol
Ok, Wonkette…get to being funny! lol
NoSoupForYou: I never understood why military folks were more eager to vote for W over Kerry. Kerry was a decorated Vietnam war hero … whom I assume did not shoot himself to earn his 2nd Purple Heart (as alleged by Michelle Malkin). As for W, well…
Now I can see why military would want to support Walnuts over Barry but they would have been cutting off their noses to spite their faces (think ‘Bomb Bomb Bomb Iran’ & in Iraq for a ‘hundred years’).
Go figure…
NoSoupForYou: I am so grateful that my Dad was a General. He was one of the first to say that we would put the “fun” in dysfunctional. Now, I try to be a good Wonkette soldier in his honor.
“denying health care to anyone born in the early postwar period”. Yeah, I’d say anyone born before 1950.
OMG. I had to drink MORE just to get through Peg’s column. Bottom line, hero’s are short, and Cheney wasn’t short enough so he gets excused for being a pussy. The end.
She forgot Mohammed Ali. He is the greatest war hero in American history.
Texan Bulldoggette: Fallout from Viet Nam, perhaps? The blustery, onward! cries of the right do strike a martial spirit. But once a soldier has been in action I imagine they realize that war IS hell and not a patriot’s game. Which is a fantastic song, by the way. I grew up in a small town with a lot of WWII veterans. Just about all of them didn’t think a war like Viet Nam was worth the cost and most didn’t go in for John Wayne-style war movies. They knew the truth.
Bruno: As he said, he didn’t have anything against them Viet Cong. Turns out none of us did.
Country Club Jihadi: lol Too funny!
Bruno: I thought Elvis was?
Texan Bulldoggette: Anybody who would support the Walnuts was nuts! My family didn’t vote for him, and felt sorry for anyone who did!
Country Club Jihadi: He’s right: We DID put the “fun” in “dysfunctional”. lol, but we have to move FORWARD. Forward, American….FORWARD”….;)Now..put your marching boots on! lol
War got a “bad reputation”? Why lordy me! I never knew! I always thought people liked being strafed, bombed, shot, bayoneted, raped, tortured, turned out of their homes and otherwise being totally fucked. What meanies those Sixtes People were to make us think it wasn’t just a big, heaping bowl of fun for the whole family! Maybe if the drugs and booze weren’t fucking with her synapses Dame Noonington could also wistfully contemplate the loss of credibility suffered by Famine, Plague, Poverty and Disaster. Word on the street is that they aren’t very “popular” either.
“The category of military hero—warrior—fell off a bit, in part because of the bad reputation of war.”
If I were standing in front of her and she were to casually say those words, I’d be absolutely unable to supress the reflexive head butt that would knock her flailing carcass into a state of sobriety.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: You forgot Grenada.
Vietnam — that place that was going to live in eternal slavery if the U.S. of A. didn’t kick those Communists’ asses! But then we lost the war. I’ve been to Vietnam 4 times for business, and as far as I can tell it’s overrun with American (and European) business people like me. If we had WON the war, I’m sure it would have been — overrun with business people like me. Makes me wonder what the difference was supposed to be between winning and losing.
Another column by Princess Peggy alternating between barely concealed lust and adoration for big, strong, father figure types. Gee, what a surprise.
Ok. I read Peg’s column, and basically, inbred Tennessee hillbillies are Godly patriots and every other persons in the country are un-Godly Catholics, who are going to hell. With the Jews. And etc. Also. The end.
The folks I know up in Tennesse are too busy growing pot, and Tobacco, and raising pigs. OK. So I know some more affluent folks than the aforementioned. They are busy lobbying for big tobacco, and large hog farms. Pegs is nuts, and on one of her alcoholic binges. Can we just all agree to tax pigs and Tabasco already? Who needs ham or dorals? Unless we free the pigs and and free the tobacco addicts, this is still a banana republic!
enjoying the hamburger ad over there on the left right now. meanwhile, peggers can speak for herself, or just please stfu. there are plenty of people who appreciate the heroism of our troops. here’s to you, vets, troops, and friends and families thereof.
subu: Here’s to you, vets. troops, friends, and families thereof. Peg can F herself. lol
I’m glad to finally learn that Jessica Lynch was just a figment of my fevered, drug-addled imagination. And Pat Tillman is alive and well and playing the football.
NoSoupForYou: I’ll be thinking of — and rooting for them. I know it’s scant consolation right now, but at least they’ve got a C-in-C who takes this stuff seriously now.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: Jim Newell: “Vietnam” seems to be some kind of beef noodle soup. It can be pretty good, but I’m not sure it was worth fighting a war over. But then what do I know?
It all goes back to you librul pussies ruining wars awesome reputation in the 60s. The best way to appreciate heroism is the republican Bush way; invent them(Jessica Lynch) or ignore them; no video or pictures of flagged drapped coffins. That way Peggers can “keep walking”, and pretend war is all warm fuzzies.
As a mother of one of the troops, always to the heroism of our troops, and to the peace of our country, and to those famlies and friends of all who have sacrificed much. To Pegs and her comrades (Kristol, Cheney, Bush, Rice, Rumsfeld, Horowitz, Perle, Libby, Wolfowitz, and others involved…. that I’ve forgotten…)a FREAKIN BIG SLOPPY WET, NASTY, SNOTTY, BUGGER-LOADED, HERPES-LADEN, AIDS-INFECTED, FUCK YOU). To all of you who dragged our children into your mother-fucking war, all over youR draft-dodging, chickenshit, lilly-livered, pale-skined, neo-conservative, butt-fucking, republican-voting, hate-mongering…republican, inbred mongrels…a big Fuck You! America wants to give you a BIG F U.
Hope I said that well, and if I left any adjective out, please feel free to add it back in.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: Dustin de Wynde: Popularized in the Clint Eastwood opus “Heartbreak Ridge”, one of the most godawful things ever put on film. He chose to dramatize the invasion of Grenada instead of the killing of 240 U.S. Marines by a truck bomb in Lebanon because it wasn’t funny enough.
NoSoupForYou: all those individuals you just mentioned… they don’t deserve even a fraction of the honor of existing in the same universe as your family. i will be thinking of you all, specifically, this memorial day weekend and beyond, with the greatest respect and awe. all the best.
EdFlinstone: I am speaking for myself, of course, but FUCK yourself.You republicans are big pussies. All Armchair, no war. There are NO republican soldiers. Only democratic soldiers. Somebody prove me wrong.
A hero to the Pegster is a warm daddy. She so lonely in that there dream o’ hers.
The article is yucky because it’s a retread from the Raygun years, which is pathetic because he and his ilk set the table for the glories we are living through now. Thanks Pegula. Be careful to spread out your dosages.
We’ve not had any dearth of heros or acts of heroism by our soldiers, what we haven’t had is a “heroic” war. We’ve had misguided and politically motivated wars that were themselves as mean and nasty in their formulation as were the actual fighting. And, Ms. Peggington forgets that we no longer share collectively in our wars, we have corporatized and professionalized the military, we make no sacrafice or really take any resposibility for our wars and so have reduced the general to level of passing celebrity; General Petraeus equates to Miss California in our attention span. And how did this come about Peggy, ol’sot of a girl? The conservatives did it! Good ol’ Ronnie and George I & II, and Dick and Rummy. And they did it all the while idiots like you were running around taking about “values”. Well Honey, you don’t know sh*t about values, you don’t know sh*t about this country, and I wish you’d just STFU. Stupid bitch.
Meghan McCain’s great book told me her paw was a war hero. Have I been lied to?
NoSoupForYou: I believe you left out taint-infatuated, but I quibble: win.
Thank you everyone here, on Wonkette. Thanks for letting me get drunk and just “blow it out my ass” lol. I get all my laughs from you guys, and I’ll continue to get my laughs here. Just wish us all luck, in your hearts. I’m not mentioning my family anymore. I just need you Wonkette’s to keep me ok. I might drink a bit. Ok. I might get drunk-assed from time to time. lol But I can snark with best of ya’ll. lol Dem, Wonkette, till the day I die!
chascates: Interestingly such of the VC as still survive (at least the ones I’ve met) find they have nothing against us either. And the dominoes did not fall. Johnny McC- much admired in North VN. Pretty much unknown in the South. The world is sometimes quite strange.
NoSoupForYou: my snark and sarcasm didnt come through in that????
NoSoupForYou: I know of at least three republican soldiers. What can I say, you asked.
NoSoupForYou: Don’t hold back now, tell us how you REALLY feel!
I also have a 19 yr. old daughter, and just when they are becoming lovely human-beings again…
I’ll bet the strong, young woman who returns to you will be awesome.
God-speed, indeed! (To all of you.)
Custerwolf: If you stand on her neck, she’ll eventually stop flailing
NoSoupForYou: Talk is cheap and all that but maybe Obama meant what he said at the Naval Academy commencement “I will only send you into harm’s way when it is absolutely necessary, and with the strategy, the well-defined goals, the equipment and the support that you need to get the job done”. I certainly hope so.
Which is quite different from that cum-slurping gutter dweller, Rummy, with his “You go to war with the Army you have,” (in other words “Fuck you, soldier” when asked about unarmored Humvees by a deployed national guard Spec 4 in press conference/photo op.
These warmongering neo-con assholes have the blood of thousands of U.S. servicemen and women and tens of thousands of Iraqis on their hands.
dijetlo: Noted.
EdFlinstone: EdFlinstone: If I missed it, I am sorry. I’m drinking tonight. I might get funny, or I might get ridiculous. Ignore me tonight. I intend to pick on republicans, who think they are the only patrioic folks. Just forgive me tonight. I’m alone, and I’m scared. Other than that, I’m filled with humor! lol Hard to tell, I know. I will try to get back to my snark!
Alaska Girl: ya know, in some ways i’d love to agree with you…but i have to call BS..
in other words, i think you’ve swallowed a relatively recently created myth…that American’s, somehow, used to all be in this thing together..ie, ‘the good fight’..
start with the IWW’s opposition to the first world war and work from there..
EdFlinstone: EdFlinstone: If I missed it, I am sorry. I’m drinking tonight. I might get funny, or I might get ridiculous. Ignore me tonight. I intend to pick on republicans, who think they are the only patrioic folks. Just forgive me tonight. I’m alone, and I’m scared. Other than that, I’m filled with humor! lol Hard to tell, I know. I will try to get back to my snark!
EdFlinstone: God Bless them. I pray for them, too. Doesn’t matter to me what their political affiliation. We can all think of them, and still hate Bush for this mess at the same time. And wish for his (Bush’s) ok..I won’t say what we should wish for.
‘
I had a question for Dame Noonington when I read the Penthouse Forum worthy column which the WSJ ran as Reagan’s eulogy at his funeral when she wrote of how her son was taken in by the military pomp and splendor which I believe also applies here.
Your boy is approaching enlistment age, in your discussions with him on the subject of American valor and volunteerism has he yet settled on which Branch of the Armed Forces of The United States of America that he want to serve the country that has given his elite and privileged family so much?
May I suggest that if he hasn’t yet made his decision that he consider a grunt Marine Corps unit?
That’ll make a hero out of him, one that Momma can be proud of, and who knows?
In a front line unit his odds go up dramatically in picking up one of those Congressional Medal of Honor Medals that you write so slavishly about.
Gotta be in it to win it, y’know.
donner_froh: Put that into snark, or put it into retard. Are you
trying to insult my child, who might die for this country, or are you just being snarky? Just let me know before I kick your ass.
And don’t think my Oklahoma, red-necked, ass….with a master’s degree…even drunk…won’t kick your ass… Cuz this inbred Okie Indian/white, inbred mix-breed bitch will take you out. lol
NoSoupForYou: Thanks, and I can imagine its a stressful time for you and your family. My sincerest prayers that your loved ones remain safe and return home as soon as possible. The party affiliation of soldiers doesnt matter, I just get irate when republicans act like democrats dont support the troops. They didnt want pics of the coffins because they knew America would see the cost of war in human lives, and a majority would of quickly turned against it. War isnt something to be romanticized as Ms Noonan would try. Its about real people dying, and it should be used as a last resort,not a first one. Again the best to your family and I thank them for the service.
Here’s how I score it; post WWII:
Korea: colossal fuckup
Vietnam: colossal fuckup
Grenada: He shoots! He scores!
Panama: First and only Victory - War on Drugs Div.
Gulf War I: a push (tie) - we had global help, not technically our war
Bosnia: Day late, dollar short (tie game)
Kosovo: Ditto
Somalia: colossal fuckup
Rwanda: Forfeit due to no-show
Darfur: Ditto
Afghanistan 2001: no decision yet (call it a tie)
Iraq 2003-?: colossal fuckup
So, since FDR was head coach, we’re 2-6-4. If this was English soccer, lets just say we wouldn’t be in the Premier League next season.
NoSoupForYou: Now you’re just looking for a fight.
Jim Newell: Good news, I found something on Wikipedia. Apparently John McCain spent FIVE AND A HALF YEARS there, sewing sneakers for Nike or something.
Dustin de Wynde: donner_froh: Hey, don’t knock Mario Van Peebles best work ever. Still, you have to give Reagan credit. He knew that if you want to distract people from getting a bunch of Americans killed, you attack some small banana republic that would be happy for the excitement, not someplace people might care about.
Mahousu: Pho? I thought that was from Phoenicia…., or Phoenix.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: A nostalgic win.
Probably. I should just go to bed. Drunk half-breeds should never argue with anyone white, as I was taught.
Custerwolf:you are right. I’m not saying anything more tonight. I’m going to bed. lol I will save my snark for another day. Goodnight to my favorite people.
NoSoupForYou: Sweet dreams.
EdFlinstone: I want each flag-covered coffin shown. It is important that we see each life that died. Each child is someone’s child, and we dems need to stand up.
Lascauxcaveman: Your score keeping is woefully accurate. We don’t do all that well against really tough, militarily-advanced outfits like Somalia. I was thinking we might fight Texas, but their Western Civ and English 101 classes are too well armed. France maybe? If so, I’d like Ms. Sarkozy as a spoil of war.
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
Custerwolf: Thank you, Custerwolf. I’m just drunk and tired. I probably said silly stuff..but I will pick up later. With a vengeance. lol
NoSoupForYou: Ok. I read Peg’s column, and basically, inbred Tennessee hillbillies are Godly patriots and every other persons in the country are un-Godly Catholics
Heh, I liked that one too, because I came from Catholics, and let me tell you; we hate us some heroes. So gaddanged heroic and all. Why’d they all gotta be like that, anyway?
Speaking of Memorial Day…
It’s Intern Season again in DC, and I seem to be the first one here, and the only one who fucking knows his way around this hell swamp. As such, I need someone to entertain for Memorial Day weekend. Are there any Georgetown or GWU girls with negotiable morals who’d like to go out for drinks with a fellow Wonketteer?
Also, fuck Peggy, and hooray for veterans. Also.
NoSoupForYou: WTF? Feel free to virtually kick my virtual ass.
NoSoupForYou: Have no regrets my dear.
donner_froh: How about a toast instead? As my lovable sister used to say, “Lesbie friends and go homo.”
lol. Lesbe fiends and go homo. I love ya’ll. My wonkette friends. Snark snark.
Love my wonkette buddies…night….I’ll be back. lol
NoSoupForYou: My heart and my prayers go out to all of your family.
Anonymous Office Zombie: I thought you said “ABORTION of big, strong, father figure types”, which would have been really weird in an interesting way.
So do we honor the men and women who “retired” due to not toeing the administration’s line in the last 8 years? Cause it seems like if you want to have war heroes, it’s best to not do stuff, like, publicly fire them if they disagree with your civilian opinion…
Custerwolf: Flanders Fields? I admit to some surprise. Seems unlike you somehow.
We stopped celebrating our military heroes? What about Rambo? And maybe Dame Peggy slept through the state of Colorado being saved from Communism by those plucky Wolverines?
Ya know what might be a nice way to celebrate the warriors, Pegs? End the fuckin’ wars and let them come home to their families. And make certain they have a decent medical and mental-health support system when they get back here. Perhaps it’s a little bleeding-heart liberal of me, but I don’t spend my days alone behind a moat and drawbridge in my Upper East Side castle where the Mexicans can’t get to me.
Sure, maybe we would have to give up all that oil that goes into the creation and delivery and low price of your daily bottle of Mad Dog 20-20, but it’s a small sacrifice for you to make, no?
Thanks for ruining my weekend Wonkette.
No wonder Keef doesn’t like you.
x111e7thst: Knew the poem by heart since I was a kid (I think it was mandatory learning in Canada), so for me it holds a certain nostalgic sentiment. I think it touches me because it was written by someone who was there on the battlefield - and it came out of his human heart, his human experience of watching young men fall in death all around him. I don’t try to translate its intent (as far as encouraging us to polarize and do battle with our enemies), I just appreciate it as an outpouring of human feeling and emotion. I also utterly detest Noonan’s homogenic psychodramatic silliness. She writes from the lap of her dear old papa. Fuck her.
I should have said papal. Apparently Noonan’s folks were not religiots.
I quote:
“My parents were not religious people,” she says. “On Sunday mornings they listened to Frank Sinatra.”
My apologies to the man.
O-o-o-o-o-oh-h-h-h-h-h-h Peg. My queen! Gah!
NoSoupForYou: You’re a great lady, but careful about that drinking. Drinking can lead to the unprotected buttsecks, especially when your husband is away. Make sure to keep the door locked to Mormons, Republicans and Rush Limbaugh.
Custerwolf: Thanks for the clarification. I’m glad that I did not somehow miss a semi-hidden streak of military romanticism.
“But when we removed the warrior, we removed something intensely human, something ancestral and stirring, something celebrated naturally throughout the long history of man.”
Und jetzt Gnaedige Frau von Noonington once more in the original German.
CaliforniaMike: That is wise advice for all of us.
imissopus: Ya know it really is fucking amazing, how wanting the soldiers to stay here in the good ole USA, alive, was a few years ago portrayed as unpatriotic and “your against the troops. It goes hand in hand with dems/libs labeled as a bunch of pansies. What because we didnt wet our pants at the mention of Saddam? Fuck here I thought we were a super power. Because I dont get weak in the knees thinking about GITMO detainees in American super maximum prisons? Its a Neo-con mind fuck where up is down. All brought to you by our illustrious MSM.
chascates: No need to take it personally. I’m just a good Christian American like yourself. But how can we ignore the commandment “You must purge evil from among you” (Deuteronomy 13:5)?
Jim, do tell us more about your masturbation innovation.
x111e7thst: “something intensely human”
Do you want to know what is intensely human? The mind games we play, the jealous games, and back-stabbing – those are human nature. Awakening or realization is not about winning. It’s about seeing the game and going into another field.
Lascauxcaveman: U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!
Custerwolf: I would like to continue this last thought.Sadly I must work instead.
Perhaps there will be another occasion.
Custerwolf:
Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of deaths construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds, oh lord yeah!
Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that role to the poor
Time will tell on their power minds
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess
Wait till their judgement day comes, yeah!
Now in darkness, world stops turning
As the war machine keeps burning
No more war pigs of the power
Hand of God has sturck the hour
Day of judgement, God is calling
On their knees, the war pigs crawling
Begging mercy for their sins
Satan, laughing, spreads his wings
All right now!
-Black Fucking Sabbath
Hooray For Anything: However….NO one makes war “for fun,” if by fun, you mean play. If you are having fun, the thought of war will never enter your mind. War is serious business (quite literally).I do believe, however, that some take pleasure in battle. That’s different. That is a release of a suppression (which is how most people experience sex). There are true sadists as well. Those are the weeds in the garden. But who is responsible for putting them into powerful positions (it IS the position, not the person that is important)?
I believe we are at a crossroads where we either take to heart Korzybski’s caution that “the map is not the territory” - meaning we look at our world with FRESH eyes and not the old worn out maps that arrive via the Noonan’s of this world. Let’s put Peggy out of a job permanently. The past is dead. History is dead. It holds you back for the most part, like driving with your eyes on the rear-view mirror. It doesn’t move you forward, you can’t actually get here from there.
“If we do not learn from our history, we are bound to repeat it.” Yeah, that sounds good and looks good in print, it’s catchy - and it’s completely untrue. We are bound to repeat our history anyway, at least until we can wake up to what our true human nature is, because that is what actually causes us to repeat our behaviors.
(Sorry. Stupidity agitates me. I hit the Submit button by accident.)
To continue: The poem on its face glorifies/promotes war, e.g., “Take up our quarrel with the foe!”
Equally STUPID is the misuse of “warrior” for “soldier.”
Modern armies, both in terms of structure and the manner of combat, are the ANTITHESIS of the “warrior ethos” (the architype of which is the single-combat “heros” of The Illiad.
When “warriors” fight “soldiers,” the former usually get slaughtered by the latter. Not always, mind you. But usually.
God. Canadians who live in trailers must be dumb.
(Moo!)
P.s. And quoting the last lines of “Dulce et decorum est,” without quoting Wilfred Owen’s immediately preceding lines — is equally STUPID and/or poetically illiterate. Even for a Canadian.
Double Moo!
NoSoupForYou: Just as there aren’t any atheists in foxholes, there aren’t any neocons, either. Also, my roommate was playing a really pretty song (something obscure and folky and gentle on the acoustic guitar) when I read your post and I totally just got teary-eyed for the kids even younger than me defending my right to make fun of my government.
/sincerity
Turd Way: Eat the olds!
No but seriously, cut Medicare, subsidize education. After all, what’s the point of living if you’re a moron?
Arrrgh. The first post didn’t go through after all.
I give up. I’m going to go slaughter some more Red Indians; civilize some more Filipinos with a Krag; create a few more Central and South American “democracies” to further the interests of the United Fruit Company, Standard Oil and ATT; support a few more “enlightened kingdoms” in the Middle East to further in interests of Exxon/Mobile; bomb some more gooks back to the Stone Age; and otherwise celebrate this Memorial Day in the Grand Tradition of This Great Christian Nation.
Perhaps I will go “hunt” a few cows.
Vicious creatures, cows.
Not only do they live in trailers in Canada, but the ugly horned hoofed bovines could recite a line of poetry if you shot them in the head with a Kattle-Killer loaded with The Riverside Shakespeare . . .
Moo!
Neilist: How on earth did you manage to slip some sense into that comment, Nells?
Neilist: really, very good.
Neilist: It is human nature to have foes, Nells. Your next-door neighbor is your foe because his cat shits in your planter. That doesn’t mean you’re a war-monger.
I’m happy you still love me Nells.
When did the said “makers of our culture” decide to stop worshipping heroes? Easy one. When the chicken hawks came in. They are the makers and fakers of our culture.
aPEGalypse Now. The whore, the whore.
CockedAle: “aPEGalypse Now” - there’s something I can get behind.
Why didn’t someone tell me this weekend was a three-day weekend? I had no idea. I thought it was weeks away. Though not ever really having to be anywhere at any particular time that kind of thing can happen. We brought home our neighborhood stray after having him neutered & vaccinated today. And he tested negative for FIV & feline leukemia! So I’ll celebrate heroes & our new cat, Chester, this weekend, while my wife works like it’s no holiday at all. Good night & good luck.
I, for one, would pay all me filthy lucre to see Lady Peggyingtonshire write a Sportique-themed column. I know she’s the oldz, but Jack Dempsey? He last boxed in 1927. She was born, according to teh Wiki, in 1950 (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA). I bet she’s secretly a MMA fan in the wee small hours.
hobospacejunkie: Concatulations. Ugh.
slappypaddy: I recommend Max Boot’s book “The Savage Wars of Peace.” Vietnam was certainly not this countries first instance of imperial overreaching. We’ve been doing it from the beginning.
Custerwolf: I appreciate the effort and especially the sentiment but that’s far below your usual standards. Get some rest.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: You obviously haven’t seen Solo. The “My Left Foot” of Peeble’s career.
James, Mr. Newell,
I don’t quite know how to feel about the fact that you can just quote Peg’s entire fucking column and yet it still works as satire.
On the one hand it’s lazy as fuck, but on the other - OMG WOW
Sounds like she’s hoping to find a soldier to give her a damn good rogering over the weekend.
Lionel Hutz Esq.: It is where the commies hoard all the fried chicken they are stealing from America to start teh race war, DUH!
SayItWithWookies: Sorry for the pedantry, but I just wanted to join you in proving Dame Nooningtonshire retarded.
Not generals, but Kennedy was the commander of a PT in WWII, Truman commanded a National Guard artillery battery in France during WWI and was later a Colonel of the Army Reserve. George HW Bush flew 58 combat missions as a torpedo bomber pilot in WWII and won a whole pile of medals. Nixon and Ford were also in the Navy. That’s all I can remember at the moment.
“I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.”
-William Tecumseh Sherman
Over here in Canb’ra, Australia’s DC, we celebrate ANZAC day instead. I rather like our version: it commemorates a complete and total fuckup of a campaign in which the idiotic English generals *coughChurchillcough* sent Our Brave Colonial Lads off to die stupidly and pointlessly. It makes it harder for the morons to get romantic about war, though of course they do still try.
Ok, I’m sadly pedantic, or pedantically sad.
“Let us honor if we can
The vertical man
Though we value none
But the horizontal one.”
-W. H. Auden
NoSoupForYou: Most who serve come back whole, happy, undamaged mentally and maybe better for the experience. I did. Your daughter needs to know (or to believe) you’re not freaking out. Be brave — you know she will.
Peggy forgot to include on her Memorial Day masturbation fantasy heroes list, the nameless, faceless, bloodless, and superspooky Drone operators, who have managed to keep us safe from attack in our Motherland, at the expense of a few nameless, faceless, bloodied, civilian populations in lands far away.
Was this a deliberate oversight?
Turd Way: Well let’s see, Mr. Turd: The Boomers got drafted into the biggest clusterfuck of a war ever, protested its sorry ass, got arrested or exiled to Canada, or got killed (40,000 or so), ended the clusterfuck of a war, and in the process got rid of the draft so our kids (I suppose that includes you) hopefully would never have to do the same. The Boomers brought you birth control, legal abortion, Title IX, civil rights and better economic opportunities for women and blacks. The Boomers made it okay to question governmental authority. The Boomers made it okay to question religious authority. The Boomers broke this country out of its rigid, tighty-whitey male WASP heteronormative mindset and forced a multi-splendored social consciousness upon a nation. The Boomers brought you pot. The Boomers paved the way for you and yours in so many ways you’ll never know. You’re welcome, you little shit.
She forgot hero General Storming’ Norman–General H. Norman Schwarzkopf who was U.S. Central Commander for the 1991 Gulf War (and after whom a very fine racehorse was named). You see, Peggy, I’m a Blue State Libtard and even I know more than you about the military matters. Maybe you should quit watching the movies and the teevees and start doing some reading and research.
“The Boomers made it okay to question governmental authority.”
Not trying to steal your thunder, but many other generations of Americans have challenged the status quo.
MzNicky: Yeah, okay, but then you all became yuppies and the last four decades were the most right-wing of all postwar. Unless economic issues don’t count, in which case I’m like the terrorists and just hate things for their awesomeness. Oh, and also the rampant narcissism of the “me generation,” which nobody even tries to deny on either end of the political spectrum.
MzNicky: I’m especially grateful for the pot, so, thanks!
This is for Peggy’s heroes…
http://kikoshouse.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-abeer-qassim-hamza.html
Turd Way: Easy on the sweeping generalizations there. They make you sound like Lou Dobbs on the subject of the Missican Terror and the internment camps in the Azatlan to be.
(Foolish is what I mean).
Peggy, you’re right, but you haven’t gone far enough. We need new American Women War Heros. Given your patriotism, can you please go embed yourself over in Kabul or something. Then save all the troops gaurding singlehandly with a putty knife. Or diffuse some suicide bomber then waterboard him. Then, you Peggy, would be my hero.
WTF is she talking about? One of the most “lump in the throat” moments was choreographed by the great Communion-taker himself, Ronald Raygun when he laid the “unknown” from Veet-nam to rest at Arlington. We celebrate our heroes all the time in this country (just take a look at CNN…they are continually forcing us to remember that our brave soldiers are still dying in a war started by GW Bush and his dad, Dick Cheney). When I ran a newspaper, I always sent a photog to the VFW Hall for the “Lest we forget…” picture atop the front page (I, of course, was drinking beer and eating barbecue while my staff worked, but that’s another story…)
HRM Peggington needs to lay down her quill one last time and we can all assist in her suicide. “That’s a good girl…go to the light…”
zomg what’s jim newell’s xbox live name? i bet i can “pwn” him in soccer. yea you heard that right, newell. unless he’s talking about a non-fifa soccer game in which case he can “blow it out his ass.”
Who will our heroes be when the robot wars commence?
All these absurd wars lately have corrupted the American Language.
I think even our dear Peggy would agree with me on that.
The word “troop” is a plural noun. A soldier is not a “troop”, unless he has multiple personalities.
Yunz have a nice weekend now.
MzNicky: See, this is why I dislike your generation so much: your self-righteousness and complete ignorance of the harm you’ve done. Here’s another list of things Boomers gave us: Neo-cons, Reagan, suburban sprawl, 40 years of ignoring global warming, economic collapse (twice), crack and the War on Drugs (the symmetry was/is impressive), a broken media, complete dependence on oil, Intelligent Design and mega-churches, healthcare a mess, education a mess. Thanks a bunch, ya’ll are awesome!
EggplantParm: Self-righteousness? When someone posting anonymously and calling himself “Turd” wishes I and my entire generation would just fucking die already so as not to sap his Social Security?
Neo-cons?! Please. My generation and political persuasion gave you Shirley Chisholm, George McGovern, Eugene McCarthy, Daniel Ellsberg, Woodward & Bernstein, Jimmy Carter, and Bill Clinton for crissake. MY parents’ generation produced Ronnie Ray-gun not the Boomers. “40 years of ignoring global warming”? Which generation do you think instituted Earth Day and for their troubles received the usual slurs (tree-huggers, granola-heads, looneys,etc., etc.) to even bring about environmental awareness? (”Silent Spring”, Rachel Carson, early ’60s. Google it.) “Economic collapse TWICE”? WTF? What, do you think everyone who’s 10 years older than you is from the Depression era?! You seem a mite bit confused there, young Eggplant. You attribute to the Boomer generation occurrences both before and after our era. I’ll stop now before I have a stroke, end up in an old folks’ home staffed by whippersnappers like Turd up there, and end up on your generation’s equivalent of an ice floe.
finland: The non-FIFA soccer game on XBox (or any other platform) is the only one worth playing! PES! PES! PES!
Let’s create new war heroes from the one battle we all want to see: The Boomers v. Everyone Else. American Gladiator-style or the real thing, don’t matter. So long as it’s on PPV.
NoSoupForYou: I’m a military mom from a military family, and I enthusiastically join you in your big “Fuck You!”
Gallowglass: Gah — I didn’t know all of those, so thank you. But I can’t believe I forgot JFK and Truman. Oh, and Carter was a nuclear engineer in the Navy as well.
Here is one of my favorites because, yes, I am a geeky John Denver fan. R.I.P.
The Box
Once upon a time, in the land of Hushabye,
Round about the wondrous days of yore.
They came across a sort of box,
bound up with chains and locked with locks,
And labeled “Kindly Do Not Touch, It’s War.”
A decree was issued round about all with a flourish and a shout,
and a gaily colored mascot tripping lightly on the fore,
“Don’t fiddle with this box, or break the chains, or pick the locks,
And Please… don’t ever play about with war.”
Well, the children understood, children happen to be good,
and they were just as good around the time of yore.
They didn’t try to pick the locks, or break into that deadly box,
they never tried to play about with war.
Mommies didn’t either, Sisters, Aunts, Grannies neither,
’cause they were quiet and sweet and pretty in those wondrous days of
yore.
Well… very much the same as now, and not the ones to blame somehow,
for opening up that deadly box of war.
But someone did… someone battered in the lid,
and spilled the insides out across the floor.
A sort of bouncy bumpy ball,
with flags and all the tears and horror that goes with war.
It bounced right out and went bashing all about,
and bumping into everything in store.
And what was sad and most unfair is that it didn’t really seem to care,
much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for.
It bumped the children mainly, and I’ll tell you this quite plainly,
It bumps them everyday… and more… and more,
and leaves them dead and burned and dying, thousands of them sick and
crying,
cause when it bumps… it’s really very sore.
Now there’s a way to stop the ball, it isn’t difficult at all,
all it takes is wisdom.
I’m absolutely sure that we could get it back into the box…
and bind the chains and lock the locks.
But no one seems to want to save the children anymore.
Well, thats the way it all appears,
cause it’s been bouncing round for years and years
in spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore.
And the time they came upon The Box, bound up with chains and locked
with locks…
and labeled “Kindly Do Not Touch, It’s War.”
The king of Zor, he called for war
And the king of Zam, he answered.
They fashioned their weapons one upon one
Ton upon ton, they called for war at the rise of the sun.
Out went the call to one and to all
That echoed and rolled like the thunder.
Trumpets and drums, roar upon roar
More upon more.
Rolling the call of “Come out to war.”
Throughout the night they fashioned their might
With right on the side of the mighty.
They puzzled their minds plan upon plan
Man upon man
And at dying of dawn the great war began.
They met on the battlefield banner in hand.
They looked out across the vacant land.
And they counted the missing, one upon one,
None upon none.
The war it was over before it begun.
Two little kings playing a game.
They gave a war and nobody came.
you gotta imagine that people who are that batshit crazy are really, really, really dirty in bed.
dijetlo:It’s really unlikely that they will ever give a war where nobody comes. People will still find things to fight about when every single casus belli that you and I can think of has been completely resolved.
It will continue to be:
I rode a tank, held a general’s rank when the Blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank..
sadly.
guerilla-nation: …which is why Her Highness Pegeth turns on teh WSJ readers. They don’t pay attention to her content, but to teh sexy song my friend! The sexy-time melody she sings! Like an ageless siren to the eternal repressed.
“There is a very interesting story about when the Buddha was alive, and two rival states had openly declared war with armies ready and prepared to destroy each other. Thousands of eager soldiers were there and somehow the Buddha suddenly appeared, and the people – having such great respect and reverence for the Buddha, just stopped. And the Buddha gave one of the best discourses on non-violence. He spoke of the sweetness and Innocence of life, a very beautiful talk. He said nothing about fighting. He didn’t tell the people they should not kill, or that they should. Instead, he spoke about the nature of self. And all people in all of the armies sat and listened to the entire talk. And after he was finished the Buddha left. And the armies and the people killed each other.”
NoSoupForYou: Same situation. My kid is heading for Afghanistan, but he is a loyal Hopey.
I spent a couple of years in lovely, exotic Vietnam. I didn’t see any heroes with stars on their shoulders. Peggington might remember that instead of building a monument to stupidity (Westmoreland), we built The Wall to honor every one of the 55,000 American who died over there, all colors and creeds. Rush Limbaugh’s name is not on it because he found a way out, as did Dick Cheney and his band of chickenhawks.
And have more banners and parades and honor been bestowed on any fighting force than upon our girls and boys in the Middle East? We love ‘em.
Peggington really cannot be as stupid as she sounds, every single week. Well, maybe she can.
Here I sit on buttermilk hill
Who can blame me, cryin’ my fill
And every tear would turn a mill
Johnny has gone for a soldier.
Revolutionary War had gays in teh military, also.
RoscoePColtraine: ha!
smellyal8r: The best (worst) ever was at Dover AFB. Raygun and his wife both showed they still had the acting chops from their movie days at a ceremony for the return of many of the bodies of the Marine barracks bombing in Beirut. It was broadcast live on PBS or CSPAN–an amazing sustained performance by the two of them with the cameras focused mainly on Ronnie of course.
Custerwolf: Joshu went to a hermit’s cottage and asked, “Is the master in? Is the master in?”
The hermit raised his fist.
Joshu said, “The water is too shallow to anchor here,” and he went away.
Coming to another hermit’s cottage, he asked again, “Is the master in? Is the master in?”
This hermit, too, raised his fist.
Joshu said, “Free to give, free to take, free to kill, free to save,” and he made a deep bow.
Custerwolf: I fail to see what’s so damn funny.
(And I hope you have a great holiday weekend, you snarkalicious babe.)
RoscoePColtraine: Same to you, butt more of it.
NoSoupForYou: You and your family will be in my prayers.
oin My Mafia: http://apps.facebook.com/inthemafia/status_invite.php?from=1033940651
x111e7thst: Yes, ko on….
TeddyS: Perhaps if you had looked at the slanty eyed yellow people in the black pjs (the ones trying to harvest enough rice to feed their families for another season). Perhaps then you would have seen heros.
x111e7thst: I wish I’d been born in Vietnam. I really like those pjs.
Mr Blifil: John Connor
Custerwolf: the pjs or the ao dai
I appreciate how you are expanding my horizons and vocabulary daily.I wiki’d this beautiful young woman. Still - I like the black pjs better.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aodai
Custerwolf: There is a version for men as well. Usu called a scholars robe.
George Bush wore one on one of his junkets. Proving, I suppose, that you can’t make a silk purse out of a sack of shit.
http://okieonthelam.com/wp-content/images/ao_dais.jpg
x111e7thst: Oh shit Putin looks hysterical!!
Has Pegs given up the booze? This one made sense to me.
You kids here at Wonkette are great snarkists, but the prize on snark for Peggy’s column goes to TenGrain at MockPaperSissors…check it out…it’s absolutely snarkalicious!
http://www.mockpaperscissors.com/?p=18782
wagonjak: Sorry, but I do not believe there is one amongst us who believes Noonan is worth that much time and effort. For christ’s fucking sake. Although in all honesty, I wrote a lengthy essay in high school about a curious kernel of corn I happened to spy in my shit. That was almost as insightful and worthwhile.
Red Zeppelin: So you’ve taken up drinking?
Custerwolf: Well, not exactly “taken up” but that thought did cross my mind. Maybe my buzz is in harmony with the Pegster? But, ya know, at least there wasn’t anything about roaming Mexicans in this.
Custerwolf: Or to put it another way. If your creativity is inspired and wasted upon these blithering idiots - I mean, c’mon, a whole fucking webpage????? - then you actually have a vested interest in the idiots remaining in place. What a terrific waste of human energy and spirit - both the meat and the buzzards poking at the carcass.
Red Zeppelin: I should be more grateful for the little things.
Custerwolf: As I have gotten older, I have found that a very useful philosophy.
Red Zeppelin: You’re right. I think I’m gonna hang up my spurs for awhile.
I’m just finishing up Drew Faust’s “Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War”. Very moving and informative. Its odd how even the tragedies of the long dead can cause a catch in your throat. Anyway, one of his theories is that the Reconstruction era desecration of battlefield graves of Federal soldiers by Southern die-hards gave rise to the National cemetery movement. Which, in turn, was indicative of the great change in thinking about the proper role of the Federal government that appeared during and after the Civil War. So the next time a GOPer complains about the growth of the Gubmint softly explain (while beating him with a large club) that their own iconic predecessor, Abe Lincoln, started the ball rolling (with a little help from TR forty years later).
Mr Blifil: “Sounds like she’s hoping to find a soldier to give her a damn good rogering over the weekend.”
And at some point Dame Peggy will shout out, “Oh, God, Ronny, darling! Oops. Sorry [fill in name of said soldier].”
NoSoupForYou: TeddyS: Blessings to you both. You guys and your families = Heros. Draft dodgers who wrap themselves in flags and yellow ribbons and run for public office so they can do budget cuts on the Veterans Administration = Worse than Charlie Manson.
Still no takers?
Jukesgrrl: Tis true; patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.
fishcanoeski: Sounds like a great read. thanks.
So, I read the rest of the article - the two heroes she talks about are Alvin York and Audie Murphy. Kick ass Kraut shooters to be sure, but has Dame Peggy heard any war heroes who were NOT featured in a movie by RKO? Is that what she does late at night, watch old movies on TCM until the Nembutal kick in?
Leopolt: “I’m still big. It’s the wars that got small.”
Not that Peggy would ever say that about her beloved St. Ronald of Reagan’s invasion of Granada or even the current WoT. But I still like to think there’s a little Norma Desmond bitterness in there.
All other twaddle aside, PN blew my mind with her dart-toss choices of Clark Gable and Robert Frost(!) as heroic USAicans in the arts.
I also heart this vague little swipe at..what? Who?
“But somewhere in the 1960’s I think we decided, or the makers of our culture decided..”
I’ve known no war
And if I ever do I won’t know for sure
Who’ll be fighting whom
For the soldiers lonely tomb
Now opens as soon as the referee’s gun starts to roar
I’ll know no war
Galbraith took his pen
To break down the men
Of the German army defeated
On the nineteenth day
Of a spring day in May
Albert Speer was deleted
And as soon as the battle was over
I was born in victorious clover
And I’ve never been shot at or gassed
Never tortured or stabbed
And I’m sure - I’ll never know war
I know I’ll never know war
And if I ever do
The glimpse will be short
Fireball in the sky
No front line battle cries
Can be heard and the button is pushed
By a soul that’s been bought
I’ll know no war
In and out of reach loft
The medals are lost
They belong to a lone broken sailor
His provinces now
Are the bars of the town
His songs and his poems of failure
For his grandchildren can’t see the glory
And his own kids are bored with the story
But for him they’d have burned behind netting
>From the brink they were grabbed
And I’m sure
I’ll never know war
I’ve known no war
And if I ever do I won’t know for sure
Who’ll be fighting whom
For the soldiers lonely tomb
Now opens as soon as the referee’s gun starts to roar
I’ll know no war
War - I’ve known no war
I’ll never know war
And if I ever know it
The glimpse will be short
Fireball in the sky
No front line battle cries
Can be heard as the button is pushed by a soul that’s been bought
And the armies remaining will judge without people or courts
And there’s no point pretending that knowing will help us abort
I’ll know no war
kapish: The word “troop” is a plural noun. A soldier is not a “troop”, unless he has multiple personalities.
We support our…troopers?
Red Zeppelin: Nah, Pegs decided on a nice cougar evening. She got her oil changed, and she’s singing a happy tune these days.
MGBYG: Just to be different
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlfH_1S05LQ&feature=related
Watch out, these wingers are starting to write their own parodies. R.I.P. Wonkette and it’s ilk.
fishcanoeski: …Drew Faust’s “Republic of Suffering…Anyway, one of his theories…
FYI Catherine Drew Gilpin Faust is a chick. And current president of Harvard.
kapish:com·man·do (k-mnd)
1.
a. A small fighting force specially trained for making quick destructive raids against enemy-held areas.
during the Boer War anyway. Now a commando is a member of such a force and to insist otherwise is useless pedantry. Troop is undergoing the same sort of linguistic shift. Language changes. Good thing too. I’d hate to be all:
HWÆT, WE GAR-DEna in geardagum,
þeodcyninga þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon!
all the time cause there would be no way to inquire when the bus was coming or what was on TV
x111e7thst: Jello Biafra is my nephew’s Godfather. It’s always a little awkward to talk about the Dead Kennedys, (let alone “Uncle Jello”).
DemmeFatale: I just love their music - always regretted that I never had a chance to see them live.
Uh, Princess Nooningtonshire, have you ever heard of Edward Preble, ‘Pappy’ Boyington, Joseph Foss, George McGovern, or Robin Olds? How about the Red Ball Express or the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron? No? Shaddap!
x111e7thst: My brothers were both hard-core, old school punkers. They came fresh from England to San Francisco in the late 70’s.
One finally gave it up a few years ago. He was tired of all the skin-heads that seemed to gravitate to punk and the NYC clubs.
(At least that’s what I like to think.)
DemmeFatale: I lived on the Lower East Side (NYC) in the late 70’s and early 80’s.
I worked as a bouncer in the St Marks Bar and Grill and A7.(Which gave me a chance to kick some skinhead ass) . So I guess I was around for the birth of NYC Hardcore. I still go to shows - going to see Agnostic Front friday week.
Sorry for the OT, guys.
x111e7thst: Maybe you knew (or loathed) my brother, 4-way. His bands were Ditch Witch, then Snatch Factory (love that one!), and finally Suicide King. He says he was banned from CBGB’s for 10 years! He must have been AWFUL. CBGB’s??!!
x111e7thst: Hey brother’s in arms. I was at Max’s Kansas the last day of it’s existence. Bad Brains, 1981. I think moshing got invented, like, that month. I also saw them at A7. Saw lots of other greats, Misfits, Minor Threat, UK Subs, Black Flag w/ Henry, Bad Religion, etc. My favorite unsung band at that time was an outfit from Connecticut called CIA. “I hate the radio…”
MzNicky: Whoa, calm down, I don’t really want you to have a stroke. I was only making broad generalizations for this satire website, (half) tongue-in-cheek. One thing I like about Wonkette is the relative lack of comment thread bickering. So, I did not mean to disparage your generation.
Nah, that’s a crock of shit because just thinking again about the subject fills me with hatred and rage. I afraid I’ve suffered too greatly at the hands of Boomers to let this slide (and, I’m drunk).
1) I don’t think EggplantParm could possibly have been attributing Boomer generation occurrences after your era because now is very much the Boomer era. It is understandable that Boomers like to focus on their youth, and in truth they do deserve some credit for the important social changes of the sixties and seventies. But Boomers can’t simply call that the Boomer era, because it was their glory days (and they are in love with youth), and ignore the occurrences of the time they’ve spent ACTUALLY RUNNING THE WORLD.
2) You mention Bill Clinton as a Boomer contribution. Clinton and George W. actually perfectly represent your foul generation to me. On the one hand, a pathological narcissist who would say anything certain people wanted him to say. On the other, a little man who would do anything certain (neocon) people wanted him to do. Some of the “achievements” of Bill Clinton include: creating the “financial services industry” by deregulating the financial marketplace, declining to regulate derivatives, that shitty music on your radio due to media ownership deregulation, the failed campaign promise of healthcare reform, NAFTA, ending welfare for single mothers, openly working toward making the Democrats (already a centrist party) just like the Republicans (which he succeeded in doing).
3) You write that I wish that you and your “entire generation would just fucking die already so as not to sap [my] social security.” Well, the part I’d written about saving money by denying Boomers healthcare was maybe the only time I was 100% joking. But is it really an option between that and younger people having Social Security? If so, I think it is a legitimate statement. I don’t want to possibly spend my golden years rummaging through dumpsters anymore than you want to be sick. And, by the way, remember when Social Security was the “third rail of American politics?” Boomers changed that.
4) Boomers didn’t give us pot, Mexicans did.
EggplantParm: MzNicky doesn’t agree with your accusation of “self righteousness” and maybe he’s right. I think it’s deeper, more like hopeless solipsism. Also, to your list I would like to add some favorite Boomer pastimes: exploiting desperate foreign labor, union busting, and sophisticated marketing schemes. Not only are these things evil in themselves, but they’ve had a harmful effect on our economy and social health. Even recent boom (bubble) years have been pretty bad for the average person.
So, in conclusion, eat a bag of dicks, Boomers. Never Forget!
Turd Way: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Life’s a bitch. So that’s what it’s come to? Hating on Bill?
Goodnight. *yawn*
DemmeFatale: So your brother is seven feet tall? How tall are you?
I’m all about honoring all those that served, and died. I really, really fucking hate it that they had to. Especially since much of the service and dying was for wars that were made up or just trumped up to make the case for a politician re: the crisis du jour.
My daughter died 15 years ago. She was 10 years old. I will honor her life this weekend. I will honor my Grandparents who raised me. I will honor those that died in service to our country. And while I do it, I will really, really hope that our country is beginning to grow up. That we will begin to understand that we are part of a global community, and as such our goals are much the same. We just want to live, have peace, enjoy our life and one another, and get drunk every once in a while.
Oh shit. No snark. Fine, kill me.
Joy: We can honor those who served, but we should also honor those who refused to serve, like the historic Peace Churches:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peace_churches
They’ve contributed immensely to America, such as the abolition movement/underground railroad, native american self-determination, women rights, and are some of the only churches that openly accept and stand with gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgendered. They’ve bravely refused to fight war.
This memorial day, let’s remember those who ALWAYS do the right thing, and do so without parades or recognition.
hobospacejunkie:
“FYI Catherine Drew Gilpin Faust is a chick. And current president of Harvard.”
The Hell you say… holey shit, you’re right. I hadn’t looked at the picture/bio on the dust cover. Wonder why, if her first name is Catherine, they didn’t include her whole name on the front cover and the title page? Not that it matters any. It would be an interesting experiment in my own sexism to be able to go back and read the book knowing the author was a girl and see if that made my impression of her thesis any different than when I thought she was a boy.
EggplantParm: erections have consequences.
x111e7thst: Did some of my best posing at SMB&G. I remember the shoes and/or purses nailed to the walls.Mr Blifil: I lived across the street from Max’s, I think it’s a Korean deli for the last 25 years. So old now, must go take memory pills.
DemmeFatale: I might remember his face. I’m bad with names. Banned from CB’s tho - what did he do?
hobospacejunkie: I got the short end of the stick, I’m “only” 5′9″. Dad was 6′9″.
You should see my wedding pictures! Hilarious!
Mr Blifil: You may be able to answer a question that has troubled me for years.
Do you remember Janet. Short blond, nice smile, bidg ass, tended bar at A7. More importantly, do you remember her dog, a black Afghan? Used to hang out behind the bar with her. What was his name? I can’t remember and it drives me nuts.
bitchincamaro: It was a good bar for posing. Fun too. Tho a couple times people got killed there. Or right outside. Never while I was working tho.
x111e7thst: I don’t know what he did to get banned, I just know that as he threw the remains of a Birthday cake at the audience, (he had just writhed on it) and backed up by the two skanky srippers the band hired from the Penny-Saver, the owner (wearily), said “welcome back, 4-way.”
You might remember a very tall (6′10″), skinny guy.
His performances always looked like (sadly familiar) temper-tantrums to me, but the audience loved the way he carried on.
DemmeFatale: I think so.
he might be in the background here?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zgOIYl89S4
hell MR Bifil might too
So on my way to work yesterday afternoon, I have to stop in the middle of the road because some asshole drunk neighbor is yelling at the guy in the truck front of me (who is also an asshole drunk neighbor). He’s bitching because a bunch of asshole non-neighbors are parked in front of his house and are straddling the road, which happens to be on a blind corner (why I can’t pass). These are the “flatlanders” who come from the city to hike in the state park and who always park in the middle of the road because they think they’re in Disneyland. Anyway, the asshole in front of me finally gets moving, but the other guy is still ranting and pacing and cursing in front of his driveway next to a flag pole with old glory fluttering embarrassingly in the breeze,so I roll down my window and yell, “You need to get a fucking grip dude!” “Fuck you!” he says. “Fuck you!” I say. Then he walks up to my car, starts to get all remorseful and sappy as drunks will and shakes my hand and wants to marry me. Promises me he’s a good christian. I’ve never met the guy before yesterday, but I’m told at work that he’s the town drunk. So apparently even the town drunk, like the town mayor, doesn’t actually live in town. And the captain of the town fire department who just lost his job last week for fucking my neighbor (who doesn’t live in town) also does not live in town. So I’m thinking of writing a play called “Not Our Town.” Even those of us who call ourselves “Goldbarbarians” have never actually lived in the town of Gold Bar.
And the captain of the town fire department who just lost his job last week for fucking my neighbor
fucking the neighbor is a firing offence? Seems a tad harsh.
x111e7thst: Tell me about it. Well, he is married and because he is her ’superior’ he’s not allowed to “fraternize” - which apparently is code for “fuck.” Anyway, he contested his firing last week and my boss (who is his boss) upheld the termination. The chick who was fucking him for two years is back to work. As for the mayor, at a town council meeting last week an angry gentleman called her out for not living in town, or paying her taxes, or paying her rent on a house she was pretending to live in because it’s required that you reside in the town you are mayor of. He was livid, so the officer who was present (the only normal dude in a 20 mile radius) stood up and the gentleman quietly returned to his seat. A completely intoxicated woman was there to document the whole thing with her digital camera, which I’m pretty sure had the lens cover on the entire time.
DemmeFatale: Long leg-ged girls you make the rockin’ world go ’round!
Custerwolf: sounds like kind of a fun town
x111e7thst: So there’s a kid at work who is the coolest kid - you would love Frasier. He’s talking to me last night about Buddhism and evolution and physics and all sorts of wild stuff (we have a group of TM-ers at camp who are trying to levitate while we try not laugh at them). Anyway, is it normal for a kid his age to be that inquisitive AND extremely bright AND open-minded AND cute as hell? I want to hire him as a math tutor because he’s a genius, but I think I should establish some kind of a safe word or boundary, so that I don’t become Anne Bancroft to his Dustin Hoffman.
x111e7thst: It definitely has its moments.
x111e7thst: I didn’t really get to know anybody at A7, I always felt in those places that at any given moment I was about to get my ass kicked. So I just watched the band and kept to myself. That’s why I used to go to Danceteria and the Peppermint Lounge to relax and find partners with physical requirements similar to mine. Oh and the Pyramid was the first place I ever saw gay porn. So there’s that.
Custerwolf: Judging by the Tales of Custerwolf, your safe word should definitely be “FIRE!!”
Mr Blifil: !
x111e7thst: Naw, I wasn’t there for AF, I had started to drift away by then, as soon as all the high school jocks started showing up at the shows with buzz cuts pretending they were skin heads. The actual skin heads were bad enough.
Mr Blifil: Pyramid is still there I think. May even still be showing gay porn.
*face palm* How could I forget??!! BAD POSTURE (a joke about height), and their big punk hit: GDMFSOB!!
This might help:
http://lundissimo.info/imgs/suicideking/index.html
So I know you guys are having a music conversation, but I just have to post this picture of the view from where I work, which is right across the river from where I live, before I head out to go riding. Doesn’t it look like George Washington’s profile (laying on his back)?
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/head.jpg
Custerwolf: Or maybe an old Indian.
Custerwolf: Damn! That’s gorgeous! Where is this?
DemmeFatale: Gold Bar - about an hour east of Seattle. Can’t think of a better place to work, really. I am truly truly blessed.
Custerwolf: Kind of a music convo.Turns out Mr Bifil & DemmeFatal’s brother
and I all hung out in the same places and almost certainly new eachother at least by sight.
Enjoy your ride - which horse are you taking out?
x111e7thst: Yup - I think I knew his skankey strippers too.
Since it is Memorial day, before I head out I’d like to remember the generosity of my “adopted father.” An army photographer back in WWII.
Around thirteen years ago, shortly after my divorce, I was living at the White Trash Palace, a state-sponsored motel for derelicts in the city of Gold Bar. So one day I decide to go out hiking and as I round a bend at the trailhead, out of nowhere appears an older gent walking his dog. They both look totally out of place because the two of them were sporting matched screaming yellow slickers - and this is Gold Bar. So I pet the little fashionista, “Dickens,” and Bob introduces himself. He says, do you know what kind of dog he is - and I said, “a PWD?” “Nope.” “is he a Puli?” Well dagnabbit, Bob nearly peed his pants with glee. “Yes!!”
I knew Pulik because I’d babysat for 4 of them in a New York City apartment. Turns out Bob once produced teevee commercials in L.A. and he had fled to his small abode in Gold Bar to escape the city stress and to grow good bud. He also had a multi-million dollar home on Queen Anne overlooking the Space Needle. Long story short, he informally adopted me and gave me the house in Gold Bar - free and clear. Just because he liked me. And because he is now terminally ill, I also have his precious little Dickens, and precious little time left to spend with my Dad, who is truly one of the greats.
The moral of the story is…you never know what lies just around the bend.
x111e7thst: Wow, that is so cool, what a nostalgic blast! I’m going to ride Birdy and Joe will ride Taku.
Lessee, Boyd screws up after 104 missions and winds up getting captured a la McCain’t; this somehow makes him a greater American? The logic of Lady Nooningworth is a pharmaceutical marvel.
I hope Custerwolf writes “Not Our Town;” it sounds groovy.
DemmeFatale: Yup - I think I knew his skankey strippers too.
Custerwolf: Which is which?
http://s389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/?action=view¤t=tnk.jpg
Custerwolf: I once got the “How do you know from Bernese Mountain Dogs?!” So I know what you’re saying.
Bob sounds like he’s led a very interesting life. Best wishes to him.
Custerwolf:
Hi Friend :). What an incredilious fantastical story! It is true what you said. “You never know…..” You are a fascinating person, I’m guessing Pisces maybe? The magical signs who are egoless & selfless generally have magical things happen to them. This is also a theme of archetypes in mythology & literature. I’m so sorry about your Dad & your Friend. Shine on! Are you & Nellist married yet? Haaaaaaaaaaa!
Hey, I ventured on to this Noonignton site, to show my artwork. Actually my commie, pinko,anti-american, negative, treehugging crap. Happy Memorial Day you facist, socialist haters! I salute you! http://blingee.com/blingee/view/91397432-LAND-OF-THE-LOST-HIS-MIND
x111e7thst: Actually that’s Kobuk on the right. Here’s Birdy…
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/birdyg.jpg
Nerdalicious: HI!!!!!!! I’ve missed you.
DemmeFatale: Thank you so much. I appreciate that. Loved those pics, btw!
Well my darlings - I have to run, the bus (horse trailer actually) is moving out. See you in a bit, and enjoy your day!!!
Custerwolf:
Have a Great Holiday! I missed you & everyone too :). I had a bad accident & now a g damn head injury. Now I’m crazier than I was before (also a worse speller:). Watch out! How are the Overlords, Chascetes & Hobo & All????
Well, Custie, I hope you see this when you get back. This one’s for you!
http://blingee.com/blingee/view/90343795-DOORWAY-TO-THE-STARS
Custerwolf:
O.K either a Pisces or Sagittarius (because of your love of animals, like Hobo, Chascetes & I.) Or some other magical sign.
DemmeFatale: I’ll know the world’s in a good place when all liberals can look at Bill Clinton and go “meh” at best. The country will only be fixed when we have a proper two-party system, with the Bill Clintons, Larry Summers and Robert Rubins on one side and the liberals on the other. I might even vote for the other side sometimes then.
PAbitter: Did you see this place during the primary?! The cankle-talk alone…
As a liberal, I’ve had to hold my nose a lot to see things from the Clinton’s POV. But I’m old enough to be realistic, and understand the limitations of office.
When I see Bill and W described in the same breath, I tend to lose it.
BTW: Did you see Ridge’s interview with John King? He basically said that Cheney and Rush are behaving like assholes. Love it!
Custerwolf: As they say, the Beverly Hills Police don’t live in Beverly Hills. They don’t call it Gold Bar for nothin’ right?
Nerdalicious: Welcome back - sorry to hear of your troubles. Please accept the same words of reassurance I gave my good friend D after I fetched her back from Rwanda nearly dying of spinal meningitis.
“I’m sure the braindamage will hardly show”
We still have “heroes”. Or, at least, we try to. Just look at the tragedy of Pat Tillman. He was a long-haired, atheist that went and signed up right after 9.11, giving up a $1M football contract to serve his count. Sounds impressive right? Well, because it is. Then he was killed in a friendly fire incident and the military spun his image and death until it was unrecognizable.
Basically, we can still have heroes; as long as they are dead and can’t defend themselves against criticism or scrutiny.
ALSO!
Custerwolf:
Christ, you get to SEE that every day? Beautiful. I need to get out of my small industrial shiathole of a town.
x111e7thst:
Haaaaaaaaa! I’m already completely “out of my mind” anyway, as are all of those who are here on a regular basis (I mean that in a good way). I waited 8 hours to go to the hospital like the idjet I am. When I got there & they did a cat scan they said it was a miracle I didn’t end up like Natasha Richardson. Holy Crap! I am such a dumb ass. I am recuperating at home now out of the hospital. Well enough to see that the Dark Lord is just about ready to actively start recruiting people out in the open to Satan’s Vampire Cult. By the way, that Dark Lord blingee here was brillante’ whoever made it. Tanks again! Missed you too! How is your Friend doing?
What happened to you (car crash?) if asking is not too foreward?
My friend D is well. In the aftermath of the meningitis (which was in late ‘94 or early ‘95)she slowed down some and by 2002 had totally given up the whole life of adventure is exotic foreign hellholes thing. Now she is a soccermom in Chevy Chase. I personally think she is a little bored but I’ve never gotten her to admit it.
AKAM80TheWolf: I do feel very fortunate to live here. Beauty is good for your spirit. We’ve had bear, bobcat, coyotes, eagles, ospreys - you name it - it’s visited our place. One night, out of the pitch-black darkness we heard a bear cub out along the riverbed squalling loudly for his mama. It was such a plaintive wail it broke my heart. But cubs do tend to be overly dramatic (like their raccoon cousins) and mama had probably just wandered away from the little guy momentarily to powder her nose.
Nerdalicious: I wrote a comment, but then attached too many photos- so the dark overlords threw it out. Bummer. I’ll do a do-over when I get the chance. Anyway, here’s some photos of my adopted father he gave me awhile back.
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/Dad2.jpg
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/Dad3.jpg
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/Dad4.jpg
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/Dad5.jpg
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/Dad1.jpg
Kev-O-Tron: How goes the new job?
Nerdalicious: Sorry to hear of the accident; wondered where you were.
The sound of taps being played just over the hill is the saddest song I have ever heard.
Memorial Day
The day we honor the fallen warrior
My deepest respect
and to you the highest honor.
Those that have given all that they had to give.
Not a good way to spend my Memorial Day weekend - but unfortunately, I think the trackhoe we hired to clear land may have unearthed some of the bits and pieces of our old used up pets. Tater came home from the back forty just now and dropped something in front of me that looks suspiciously dog-eared. That’s really gross. Really. Gross.
hpwilliams: My uncle was in the Navy for his whole life. He fought in WWII, Korea and Vietnam. At his funeral, they played taps. I’d heard it before (grew up on various Military bases), but this was like the first time.
Context is everything.
My last comment’s placement between those two beautiful sentiments, makes it look like a pubic hair floating in a glass of cold milk.
Custerwolf: You’re too much! And thanks a lot for THAT image!
Well isn’t this some fine shit. I knew something like this would happen if I stopped drinking like the Irish writer that I am. I’ve been replaced by another drunk. And it’s a woman. This does not bode well for my already tarnished image as a complete fuck-up. Soon people are going to start thinking I work for a living and pay bills like a normal person.
Jim, I am fucking pissed off about this post. I was minding my own business, attempting to forget the rapture came in 2000 when W was elected and tribulations began. Then I find this ode to Eggy Oonan. I made the mistake of reading some of her WSJ, uh, what is that she wrote?
Anyway, I was reading it, whatever it’s supposed to be. It struck me that Eggy dictated those words into a little tape recorder while pleasuring herself with the shower nozzle in her bathtub. Once that image has found its way into your skull, you just can’t get it out. It burns, Mr. Newell. It burns.
Also, her breasts are very wrinkled, according to my imagination.
That is all.
No one can write such beautiful endearing war prose as “Dear Pegs.” I didn’t realize Pegs wrote her prose from the front lines until she mentioned “war is hell.” I guess she was right there in Viet Nam with those troops slogging through the jungle… Damn that Peggy Noonan is one swell trooper!
The only glory in war is surviving Peggy. Also shut the fuck up!
Nerdalicious: How are the Overlords, Chascetes & Hobo & All????
Aww, how sweet, you remembered me despite your brain damage. I am touched.
Glad you got to the hospital in time. Few years ago a soccer teammate of mine clashed heads with an opponent & our team nurse (one of my team’s players at the time was a nurse) convinced him to go get it checked out, just in case. A few hours later they were carving open his skull to relieve the pressure. Not sure exactly what the problem was, intracranial pressure leading to herniated brain? I don’t know. I do know that spinal fluid was dripping out his nose after the collision, like snot. He’s all fine now, but has to play with a gay little helmet thingy (like Petr Cech, for those in the know.)
So yes, glad you are back and recovering. Head injuries are not to be trifled with nor underestimated.
Custerwolf: Thanks for sharing that great story about your adoptive Dad, and the photos. Black & white photos of regular folk from WW2 are fascinating. Makes it seem real, unlike most movies or iconic photos from Life magazine. Also reminds us that not everyone who serves shoots a gun at the ‘enemy.’
For Memorial Day I’ll probably be thinking of the sentimental yet stirring Band of Brothers. Mostly because it makes me think of my first couple years in college. The idea that lunkheads like us, 18- or 19-years old would volunteer (and 420,000 of them died) blows me away whenever I think about it. I don’t think they had much of an idea what they were getting themselves into exactly, and many kept paying the price for it long after the war was over, but they did it anyway. Of course many were drafted and their service is no less honorable for that fact.
And I thank our god, Television, for the fact that fewer men (and now women) will ever likely rush to sign up for any war ever again. We know what happens in war now, all its gory details. Yes many still do volunteer but the fact that we know now that war isn’t a jolly romp as seen on Hogan’s Heroes means there will always be more people opposed, rather than in favor of, any particular war. Doesn’t mean it’ll stop the war (as seen in Gulf War 2) but it does mean fewer idealistic gung-ho wannabe soldiers just itchin’ to see combat.
I heard Taps last November at the funeral of my father-in-law at Ft. Bliss in El Paso. He taught men how to jump out of airplanes for eight years. RIP
hobospacejunkie: Petr Czech is a big fag, thanks for reminding me.
I read in today’s NY Times that last year 680,000 American veterans died, mainly veterans of WWII. It’s hard to imagine that many people dying let alone those who served their country so selflessly. I hope 50 years from now those passing will be much fewer in number though they’ll still have our respect. Memorial Day is one thing for me. It’s quite another for those men & women who’ve come back from the Middle East missing a limb or an eye or the ability to walk.
The next time our government insists on going hell-bent into some region of the world I’ve never been to I want to see more proof than a couple of satellite photos and the assuring words of lifelong politicians. The life of one young recruit or an older reservist or even a military lifer is worth a hell of a lot more to our country than bravado and superpower brinksmanship.
Mr Blifil: No problem. I fucking hate Chelsea and their thieving, criminal owner. He should be in jail with Khodorkovsky and the others.
Jesus Jim, have a heart!
Peggy will be staring at me with her dead eyes for three days?
MzNicky: I’m a boomer, but I must admit
Our generation ain’t worth a shit
People need to remember the real reason for memorial day: a day off from work to BBQ. And while you’re eating, fondly remember that the meat from those burgers and ribs came from dead soldiers who died a horrible death. Prime meat, killed at the height of terror, floods the soldier’s body with tangy adrenaline flavor, an aphrodisiac for meat lovers.
DC Hates Me: Liberal pukes like you sicken me. That meat could be somebody’s mother! You and this blog are simply below contempt. Someday you’ll learn the pathology of laughing at everything all the time. And until that day I bid you good day, sir. I said GOOD DAY, SIR. Harrumph…
gurukalehuru: T Way’s just mad cause s/he’s tired of living in his (boomer) mom’s basement, with no hope of a place of his own. Grinds down the soul it does.
x111e7thst:
It seems to me that there are two ways the meaning of a word can shift.
A word can shift meaning quickly now because of the persistent misuse of a word in the mass media.
A word can evolve in meaning for reasons that are hard to pin down - movement in the
deep cultural unconscious, if you like. It could be a matter of convenience, conditioned by the simultaneous shift in meaning of other words - if speculation about this process even has any value. What bothers me about the shift in meaning of the word “troop” is that it may have been brought about
by the MSM - rather than by what we might tern natural forces.
In any case, there is no doubt that the meaning has shifted, and that I find that fact annoying.
Happy memorial day.
hobospacejunkie: The most noble thing we can do is serve our fellow countryman. Bon appetit.
My favorite Peggy Noonan of all time when the hot mic caught Noonan, Murphy and Todd saying “in private” what THEY REALLY THOUGHT during the Presdential Campaign of 2008! May they never live their “bullshit factor” down:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jnn5vm6X6Y4
I think congress needs to pass a law that mics are to remain hot during commercial breaks FROM NOW ON! Whenever I get blue, I watch this particular YouTube moment and it makes me happy.
kapish: I know people who are bothered by the “misspelling” of the sort that results from texting and tweeting etc; and by the homonyms that spell check lets in because they are after all real words. Sux 2 b me etc. I find it a fascinating tip of the hat to a linguistic period before the printing press and councils of academics enforced standardization. Not trying to start a fight. I just interested in the topic.
Happy memorial day to you too. (or to or two)
I’m just interested. Jeez.
Last weekend some denizens of this site took a disgusting, unnecessary, menacing pyorrhea (DUMP) on us. It narrowly missed our heads landing instead on teabags and assorted ornamental bushes. The inhabitants of our zoo, primarily composed of a bulldog, multiple wolfen, a fish, a gorilla, a rabbit that gets visibly excited when shown S&M paraphernalia, and an exotic but playful addition from Micronesia, a wookie, were nonplussed but some experienced a strange addition anyway.
It seems that the bovine effluent we had then generously spread over the unfertilized ova of homiletics was not appreciated. We had expressed sincerity, honesty and a non-communist comradeship but this was deemed insufficient, subversive and boring. Rictus on our critic’s faces and ani (they’re probably indistinguishable) must have been severe.
On this long weekend we again appear to be reckless. This may be the outcome when humans rest their tart-tongues weary of key-limes, lemons and bile. But beware! There probably lurks a crazed fanato-poster who would enjoy trying to cause volvulus among us and to control our comments, but the vox populi cannot be silenced.
Although I am labile and love labia I will resist this onslaught by those that seek to further pervert what is already beyond disgustingly perverse. Nevertheless, I offer these puerile mavens of Wonkdom an electron of goodwill…
Trucknutz!
Now go forth and fuck thyselves.
Atypical: This is what happens when intelligent people gain access to online thesaurusus. Or is it thesauri?
Mr Blifil: Thesaurata? Thesaurozzoli? Thesauroppoli?
kapish: Since words are signs or images their meanings change through time and usage. Through similarity and “likeness” they morph, often without intent, but more disastrously with those who want to persuade without owning up to prior meanings. The repubnits did it by demonizing a host of terms ascribing them to strawmen who did not exist. The Pegmistress is merely caught in images that haven’t kept pace.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simulacra
Now I shall flip the animal carcasses on the barby. My personal ritual of homage to those who have sent innocents to slaughter.
Mr Blifil: hobospacejunkie: Nah. Just too much available time, natural antagonism toward conformity and a miswired brain.
Atypical:Mere Dispensationalism sir/madam. The eschaton will not be immanentized with such ease.
Meanwhile I continue to hold tight to my Ding an Sich, trying always to get no splooge on the keyboard.
“This love
is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind
that way, sleep on.
I’ve given up on my brain
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away. If you’re not
completely naked, wrap
your beautiful robe of words
around you
and sleep.
Those
who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of springwater
or take in sunset
like supper,
those who don’t
want to change,
let them sleep.”
- Rumi
DoctorCulturae: Words are particles of sound. They contain no meaning save what we give them.
x111e7thst: My feelings exactly. Therefore, ich will schlafen mit schwartza fraulein. Also.
Custerwolf: Not quite true, but I get your drift. We participate in the construction and ongoing meaning of words whether we like it or not. We make meanings out of words here in Wonketteville, but there is little audible. Sound is a different matter, much more intimate and dangerous.
Later this afternoon I will be sacrificing tofu and vegetables as burnt offerings to the god of war — Mars, Ares, or whatever else you want to call him. He won’t like it, probably, but fuck him.
I’d also like to take the time to honor the brave men and women who went to bat for some of the worst, most vicious, awful people in the world. The lawyers at the JAG who defended the Guantanamo detainees, ensuring that they had the right to challenge their detention, to see the evidence against them and to pick their own lawyers — things we take for granted and that, the Bush-era inqusitors knew, would pretty much separate the 3% of the detainees who were actually dangerous from the 97% who were farmboys and yokels in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Many of these attorneys sacrificed any chance of promotion after a lifetime of service to their country, essentially ending their military careers. In doing so, they chose to honor the principles that made this country great (based on enlightenment humanism and having nothing to do with the Ten Commandments, might I add) over the American flag as a fetish that was being sold to the populace. Soldiers like these protect America as much as anybody who carries a gun.
DoctorCulturae: “We participate in the construction and ongoing meaning of words whether we like it or not.”
I agree cmopletely.
Human beings created language out of sound (vibration) in an attempt to create order out of chaos.
SayItWithWookies: And sometimes more so. Thank you.
Think I’ll celebrate this holiday by drinking some pig liquor.
http://www.bakonvodka.com/
Custerwolf: Come Custerwolf and fill the cup (with bacon flavored vodka)
and in the fire of Spring
thy Winter garment of repentance fling
DC Hates Me: The most noble thing we can do is serve our fellow countryman. Bon appetit.
Ha ha! Well said, DCHM, well said.
Custerwolf: pig liquor bakon vodka
That’s just wrong. Like scorpions, a sin against nature.
I went to their website. They have cocktail recipes. One is for what’s called a “Creamy Piglet.” It involves bakon vodka and a heaping helping of baconnaise. Serve over ice. Yummo!
x111e7thst: Consider it flung….and now I’m off to the feedstore - which, because it is a holiday and the highway will be clogged with traffic, will take up most of the day. Usually it’s a fifteen minute drive.
Custerwolf: Correct sir. May I offer you a creamy piglet or perhaps a refresher margarita, master?
x111e7thst: No short way to do this without losing context.
From Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, right before the author lost his freaking mind:
“Under Aristotle the “Reader,” whose knowledge of Trojan arete seems conspicuously absent, forms and substances dominate all. The Good is a relatively minor branch of knowledge called ethics; reason, logic, knowledge are his primary concerns. arete is dead and science, logic and the University as we know it today have been given their founding charter: to find and invent an endless proliferation of forms about the substantive elements of the world and call these forms knowledge, and transmit these forms to future generations. As “the system.”
And rhetoric. Poor rhetoric, once “learning” itself, now becomes reduced to the teaching of mannerisms and forms, Aristotelian forms, for writing, as if these mattered. Five spelling errors, Phædrus remembered, or one error of sentence completeness, or three misplaced modifiers, or — it went on and on. Any of these was sufficient to inform a student that he did not know rhetoric. After all, that’s what rhetoric is, isn’t it? Of course there’s “empty rhetoric,” that is, rhetoric that has emotional appeal without proper subservience to dialectical truth, but we don’t want any of that, do we? That would make us like those liars and cheats and defilers of ancient Greece, the Sophists…remember them? We’ll learn the Truth in our other academic courses, and then learn a little rhetoric so that we can write it nicely and impress our bosses who will advance us to higher positions.
Forms and mannerisms…hated by the best, loved by the worst. Year after year, decade after decade of little front-row “readers,” mimics with pretty smiles and neat pens, out to get their Aristotelian A’s while those who possess the real arete sit silently in back of them wondering what is wrong with themselves that they cannot like this subject.
And today in those few Universities that bother to teach classic ethics anymore, students, following the lead of Aristotle and Plato, endlessly play around with the question that in ancient Greece never needed to be asked: “What is the Good? And how do we define it? Since different people have defined it differently, how can we know there is any good? Some say the good is found in happiness, but how do we know what happiness is? And how can happiness be defined? Happiness and good are not objective terms. We cannot deal with them scientifically. And since they aren’t objective they just exist in your mind. So if you want to be happy just change your mind. Ha-ha, ha-ha.”
Aristotelian ethics, Aristotelian definitions, Aristotelian logic, Aristotelian forms, Aristotelian substances, Aristotelian rhetoric, Aristotelian laughter — ha-ha, ha-ha.
And the bones of the Sophists long ago turned to dust and what they said turned to dust with them and the dust was buried under the rubble of declining Athens through its fall and Macedonia through its decline and fall. Through the decline and death of ancient Rome and Byzantium and the Ottoman Empire and the modern states…buried so deep and with such ceremoniousness and such unction and such evil that only a madman centuries later could discover the clues needed to uncover them, and see with horror what had been done. –
The road has become so dark I have to turn on my headlight now to follow it through these mists and rain.”
Little further context is necessary, the following part of this book after the above passage details the writer’s time at the University of Chicago’s Graduate Program in Classical Studies, which is the intellectual hive from which today’s Neo-Cons sprung.
Bush and Cheney were still running around in short pants while those evil fuckers were laying the concrete for the foundations of the world we live in today.
Custerwolf: I just got back from the store — it was packed, but not as much of a mess as I expected. Why I wait until the last minute to go shopping on a holiday is still a mystery — oh yeah, because I was getting drunk all day yesterday.
Dustin de Wynde:The neo-cons were, in the main, not christianist clowns entranced by the rapture, yet they never learned: “Hippocrates after curing many diseases himself fell sick and died. The Chaldaei foretold the deaths of many, and then fate caught them too. Alexander, and Pompeius, and Caius Caesar, after so often completely destroying whole cities, and in battle cutting to pieces many ten thousands of cavalry and infantry, themselves too at last departed from life.”
Or even more simply “Everything is only for a day, both that which remembers and that which is remembered.”
Custerwolf: I gotta admit, the recipe for Bacon Bloody Mary does sound good.
Happy Memorial Day to all, and remember the troops…
I have drank to those who are not here, and thought of the sound of taps. Sadness and despair.
Next day and hung over I how have anger and hope, an odd combination for me.
If we could to drink to a song of war this would have been our choice.
It is not the ones who fought the war that benefit, those who fought just know the price. This song says what the value is when the battle has stopped and you see the cost.
Edwin Starr : War
Songwriters: Whitfield, Norman; Strong, Barrett;
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Uh-huh
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Say it again, y’all
War, huh, good God
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Listen to me
Ohhh, war, I despise
Because it means destruction
Of innocent lives
War means tears
To thousands of mothers eyes
When their sons go to fight
And lose their lives
I said, war, huh
Good God, y’all
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Say it again
War, whoa, Lord
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Listen to me
War, it ain’t nothing
But a heartbreaker
War, friend only to the undertaker
Ooooh, war
It’s an enemy to all mankind
The point of war blows my mind
War has caused unrest
Within the younger generation
Induction then destruction
Who wants to die
Aaaaah, war-huh
Good God y’all
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Say it, say it, say it
War, huh
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Listen to me
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Uh-huh
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Say it again y’all
War, huh, good God
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Listen to me
War, it ain’t nothing but a heartbreaker
War, it’s got one friend
That’s the undertaker
Ooooh, war, has shattered
Many a young mans dreams
Made him disabled, bitter and mean
Life is much to short and precious
To spend fighting wars these days
War can’t give life
It can only take it away
Ooooh, war, huh
Good God y’all
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Say it again
War, whoa, Lord
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Listen to me
War, it ain’t nothing but a heartbreaker
War, friend only to the undertaker
Peace, love and understanding
Tell me, is there no place for them today
They say we must fight to keep our freedom
But Lord knows there’s got to be a better way
Ooooooh, war, huh
Good God y’all
What is it good for
You tell me
Say it, say it, say it, say it
War, huh
Good God y’all
What is it good for
Stand up and shout it
Nothing
No snark on this day
Peace
proudgrampa: I thought of making my own out of my little goose-stepping, Wilbur.
Kidding, Wilbur. I’m only kidding.
http://s389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/?action=view¤t=HPIM3880.flv
Custerwolf: Would that be Grey-Goose-stepping? Well he definitely suspects something’s up. Just don’t let him look in the fridge.
Dustin de Wynde: That’s quite an involved justification for using alternate spellings, but I’m with you.
Although I must say that saying someone has mastered the form of a thing without understanding its true nature has probably been a smear for thousands of years. And Pirsig smacks a little of having sour grapes, no matter how much I liked Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
Telegrams had the same effect on spelling, do digress a bit. Since the sender paid by the word (or letter? I can’t remember) it was economical to use words in new fashions, or make your own.
Custerwolf: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!1!!!!!!! NOT WILBUR!!!!1!!!!!
He’s too cute…
SayItWithWookies: Grey Goose indeed. I miss Gary Larsen. He was just building a house on Orcas Island when I was leaving there, back in the 90’s. A friend of mine gave me this cartoon when I was studying for my vet tech license.
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/IMG-1.jpg
Custerwolf: Speaking of Grey Goose, did I mention that today is my birthday? No? I am definitely enjoying my Grey Goose on the rocks.
As of today, I don’t trust anyone over 59.
OK, now I’m REALLY going to log off and go see my grandkids.
God Bless America. And Grey Goose. Also.
proudgrampa:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR PROUDGRAMPA,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!
and many more….
Custerwolf: That’s how a lot of vets used to treat animals! Now they have health care almost as good (and more expensive) than ours.
chascates: Ain’t it the truth.
Custerwolf: It goes well thanks! I’m enjoying bar tending again. It’s such a fun, fast-paced and lucrative line of work. When I took my last job I signed a contract for 35k. I’m making more than that in tip money now.
I will be celebrating freedom by going to Folklife Festival (hippies, reggae, vegan food) and smoking illegal substances. The war on drugs is over and I’ve been a veteran for nearly fifteen years.
Kev-O-Tron: Do people ask for these ‘classic coctails’ such as Sazeracs & Sidecars & Old Fashioneds or what?
Happy bday, grampa! It’s our daughter’s 21st today; we’re taking her to shabu shabu for dinner over by Japantown.
And, in memorium: SPC R. Jones. Died because a stupid green lieutenant couldn’t read a fucking map. Still miss you, my friend.
Gallowglass: Carter was in the Navy.
Blender: That sucks. Not the birthday dinner, the other part.
Haha, KABQ first-rank in hits for May 25 (by proxy log)…
Kev-O-Tron: Would you make me a Miltini, please.
NoSoupForYou: I don’t think you’d like the Latin part of Chascates’ post, Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
Dustin de Wynde: Chris, the son in “Zen in The Art,” died from knife wounds incurred in a mugging right around the corner from the San Francisco Zen Center.
There is an irony in there somewhere, but I’m not smart enough to find it. But, boy howdy, did I love that book. The Rhetoric Department at U.C. Berkeley notwithstanding.
Seek Enlightenment. But train for Chaos. Ideally, with a firearm.
Kev-O-Tron: Good to hear you’re enjoying your work. My cynical mind guesses that puts you in the minority of working people. But then I came to hate every job I ever had, for various reasons.
Now that you are a relatively well-paid bartender do you wonder why you ever bothered with other jobs? I suppose the hours wear a man down, and possibly the lack of opportunities to move up a career ladder (?)
Neilist: I believe it’s “Zen and the Art…”
And there’s no guarantee a gun will help you if you are accosted without warning. Handind over your wallet is just as reliable a way to try to avoid harm. Plus if you don’t carry a gun you never have to worry about shooting your own dick off. Of course, there’s nothing to prevent it simply falling off from natural causes I suppose.
Neilist: Real irony would be if he’d been run over by a Zen master who was driving his motorcyle over to the mechanic’s shop.
Neilist: The San Francisco Zen Center must be point zero for ‘dharma drama’ what with Richard Baker and Reb Anderson. I still have some of Suzuki’s books as well as the Tassajara Bread Book.
Custerwolf: For maintenance?
Custerwolf: hobospacejunkie: So the Master could listen to the sound of one hand fapping!
Kev-O-Tron: I never had the courage to try it. I would get nervous just opening folk’s beer when I waitressed at the Olga Cafe (on beautiful Orcas Island). We were a bunch of hippie girls and the place was an old strawberry packing plant turned artist’s co-op and cafe. I lived in a pup tent on the beach the 4 years I worked there, and I kept my horse in an old farmer’s field on the way to work so I could see him on my walk in to work (half was trail, half was road). As they say, “Find a job you love and you’ll never have to work again.”
hobospacejunkie: But of course.
chascates: I almost achieved satori on that one.
chascates: I wonder if Robert Persig rode a Suzuki?
chascates: Do you bake? (Segue into talking about my own baking experience.) I learned to bake bread originally from a Julia Child book, though the recipe I use now is from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. I bake bread every night, doing everything by hand apart from the actual baking. You thought I was a worthless, though charming, bum, eh? Well who wants to be my wife now, huh? Does your mate bake you fresh bread every night? Well too late, I’m already married. Opposite married, to be precise, Miss Kollyfornyah.
Custerwolf: You nervous? I’m having trouble visualizing this thing.
hobospacejunkie: I bake & cook very little I’m embarrassed to say. I have a ton of cookbooks and my favorite reading is about food culture, books on things such as cod, tuna, or salt, the history of distilling, all food history. I’m really fascinated in the foodways of the last several hundred years as I come from a long line of paupers and peasants.
I end up having a Lean Cuisine after reading Madelein Kamman. I’d love to just start out as an apprentice at a bakery. Bread is the central human food and I think of a baker as the essential craft job.
x111e7thst: If I hadn’t been, I would have gone to work at ‘Christine’s,’where they served WINE - gah!! Her’s was an upscale restaurant where all the celebs ate when they came to Orcas (saw Goldie with Kate Hudson when she was but a wee lass). Goldie, btw is a very cool ladee. She walked by me going into the little corner store, wearing a ballcap and red flannel shirt and sunglasses, and as she walked by me she flashed a dazzling smile and said “hello!” Very friendly and sweet. Kate went to horsie camp at Orkila. T’was very groovy baby.
Custerwolf: If I hadn’t been, I would have gone to work at ‘Christine’s,’where they served WINE - gah!!
Oh NOES. You do not like the wine?
x111e7thst: You have to know sooo much about it - far too intimidating for a retard such as myself.
chascates: Common misperception is that baking bread is both difficult & time-consuming. Do yourself a favor, buy The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, read the fascinating opening part about bread, history & his own bread-baking journey, and try one or two of the easier recipes. It’s a relaxing & rewarding hobby and the best part about it is even when you fuck up your bread still tastes better than any bread you’ve ever bought. Also, you’ll only find the yeast you need @ HEB, or by web order from King Arthur Flour.
hobospacejunkie: Thanks, I’ll do that. Just the smell of baking bread is worth the effort.
The thing I remember most about Christine’s is this… (pull up a chair….) To begin, situated in the same building below Christine’s was the ‘Lower Tavern,’ a very friendly bar and grill, and my home-away-from-home. So one afternoon me and my drinking buddy Cheryl were attending to our usual weekend pastime of surveying the latest male tourista influx to see if there were any unique flavors we might sample. We had strategically placed ourselves right smack in the middle of an impressive gunshow - when suddenly I hear Cheryl gasp, “Jeezuz christ!” and as I turn around my gaze falls upon the most astonishingly, captivatingly, gorgeous specimen of a man I had ever laid eyes on. He was seated at the bar - a creature of such magnificient beauty that all I could utter in reply was, “holy fuck.” And that was Ron. “I’m not leaving until I meet him.” I tell Cheryl. Eventually another young man enters the bar and sits next to Ron and it becomes obvious from their convo that they are co-workers (cable guys actually). The nice thing was the new guy made Ron laugh alot, so I was constantly being dazzled by a smile that would have dimmed the stars in a midnight sky. Still waiting for my opening, it starts to get late and Cheryl has to go home. I’m thinking of calling it a night myself when a friend walks in and offers me a ride home on his cycle. So of course, hedging my bets as I’m wont to do, I go home with him instead. Cut to Christine’s the next night. I’m upstairs sitting with a group of friends sipping a daiquiri, when I suddenly see Ron’s truck pull up into the tavern lot and he’s left his lights on. The next thing my friends know, they’re staring at my empty chair, while I’m downstairs telling Ron about his lights.
Sparks. Ignition. 4-alarm FIRE.
We lived together for the next two weeks, in utter bliss. Then he got a new job in Idaho and because I was the practical type back then, I stayed on the porch and waved goodbye while my beautiful golden boy drove away. It was the right thing to do, the way my life turned out. Besides, I don’t actually think the guy was human. He had donuts and Pepsi every morning for breakfast, and he had this curious essence, like that of an innocent barefoot boy. Maybe it helped that he came from a town of only 350 people (St.Johns, WA), mostly Masons - even though with the last name ‘Hubbard,’ you’d think he’d have been a scientologist. This picture comes the closest to describing him, but he was better - oh, he was much, much better. You can ask any girl who has ever had the unadulterated pleasure of meeting him.
http://i389.photobucket.com/albums/oo336/brontie2/bp-1.jpg
So Ron - wherever you are - here’s to you on this beauteous Memorial Day!!
I forgot to say what the moral of the story was.
NEVER HESITATE.
hobospacejunkie: Mmmm…fresh bread every night. Do Fat-bottomed girls make the rockin’ world go round?
DemmeFatale: Absalootly.
DemmeFatale: They sure do, though I prefer the term “round-bottomed,” like my lovely wife.
hobospacejunkie: round bottoms are most delicious.
Before I hit the rack, here’s another of my favorite childhood poems, performed in an extraordinarily creepy format. Enjoy and Happy Memorial Day!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=im-zu6WzoaE&feature=related
Custerwolf: My god I adore you.
V572625694: Where HAVE you been all this while, my liege?
Custerwolf: Trying to stay away from this happy little lunatic asylum…It was consuming my life.
Custerwolf: The guy’s voice totally sucks in that one - try this guy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJ1MWYAJbWs&feature=related
Custerwolf: You know that’s about Lincoln, right? Murdered by racist traitors. Here’s his second inaugural. Starts like a report from the recording secretary. Ends like the Voice of God:
At this second appearing to take the oath of the Presidential office there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement somewhat in detail of a course to be pursued seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself, and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.
On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it, all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, urgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war—seeking to dissolve the Union and divide effects by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war, but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive, and the other would accept war rather than let it perish, and the war came.
One-eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was somehow the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union even by war, while the Government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with or even before the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men’s faces, but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. “Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.” If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said “the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.”
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
V572625694: Yes, it’s good to take a break now and then. I’m grateful to have an escape from the huge trackhoe that’s been devouring my property along with all the rest of the bullshit that goes with recovering after a river runs through it (minus the Brad Pitt). I’ll be glad when my living arrangements no longer drive me to distraction.
Custerwolf: Good night my dear. All remodels eventually end, even those involving the surface of the earth.
V572625694: Wow. Nice, my friend. Very nice.
V572625694: I’m not big on God, but the spirit of those words are filled with such a righteousness it must have set the people’s hearts ablaze. And that’s what people need - to catch fire. Ignorance has to first boil before it can evaporate. It’s ELEMENTARY, my Dear Watson.
Custerwolf: Atheist myself, if you insist on nailing it down. Here’s Mr Dylan on a similar topic, without the Jeebus stuff. I was just playing this, trying to get the ring-finger variations to work with the alternating bass:
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin’.
Like the stillness in the wind
Before the hurricane begins,
The hour that the ship comes in.
And the sea will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the waves will pound
And the morning will be a-breaking.
The fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls they’ll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they’re spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And be buried at the bottom of the ocean.
A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect
The every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.
Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin’.
And the ship’s wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin’.
Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And they’ll jerk from their beds and think they’re dreamin’.
But they’ll pinch themselves and squeal
And they’ll know that it’s for real,
The hour that the ship comes in.
Then they’ll raise their hands,
Sayin’ we’ll meet all your demands,
But we’ll shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh’s tribe,
They’ll be drownded in the tide,
And like Goliath, they’ll be conquered.
V572625694: Thanks for taking the time.
chascates: Ah, Reb Anderson. How that name mixes memory and desire.
The desire for a girly monk 9mm semi auto.
The Aikido classes the Zen Center offered/sponsored were extremely amusing, too. I remember trying to explain to Joan Baez once that trying to lock up an opponent’s left wrist with both hands was likely to result in her blocking a right cross with her face.
She did not receive this information with an enlightened attitude. Although, with that sour puss, perhaps a right cross would not have done that much damage.
Now, if she had been knifed in the street, the world of folk music would have been much improved, IMHO.
Mr Blifil: I will defer to your obvious experience at shooting your dick off. But, from the size, you must be a heck of a marksman. Or post-dick shooting, is “marksperson” the preferred term? Or is it “Marks-eunuch”?
Bang!
No snark here, Peggy Noonan offers a brief glimpse into the warped mind of conservatism, and the banality of evil.
How about a memorial day for the civilian victims of war?
Also, how about a new thread. It’s fucking Tuesday already.
gurukalehuru: Today’s David Brooks NYT ‘column’ is a snarky gem, in a Coultergeist sort of way.
I suggest starting there: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/26/opinion/26brooks.html
SayItWithWookies: Shorter vers: Language is fluid, living thing. Your Elementary School teachers fucking FAILed you.”Ain’t” is a cocksucking wurd.
As far as the sour grapes thing goes, after the treatment he got pursuing his thesis any reasonable person would likely be pissed too, though I think the book sales royalty checks helped salve that wound, not that most people comprehended what he wrote.
Surprised that no one has looked Pirsig up to get his take on the Rise of the Neocons, since he’s one of the few people that laid a credible challenge to them on their own turf.
chascates: Tell me about it. During one of the less fun periods of my life in the early 1990s I lived in SF on Oak & Buchanan, a little more than a block away from the Zen Center. Really freaked me out at the time how close I was to that scene.
Mr Blifil: When I was enlisted I was assigned duty as a Rifle Range coach, taught my Marines techniques that consistently brought their scores up, but in civilian life I’ve never carried, for the primary reasons, that a) volatile females and guns don’t mix and I value both my dick and my life, b) if it comes out there’s a good chance that it can be turned against you and/or your dick. Also.
hobospacejunkie: Absolutely. I don’t plan to bar tend for long. Mouthy drunks, neighborhood spangers and local freeloaders don’t make for a pleasant evening. I have a gawdamn dugree. I’ll give it six months and find work hustling for Bank of America or something else suicide worthy.
x111e7thst: I imagine you’d like that with a twist and dirty?
chascates: Sometimes they do and I love it. I can make most anything but if you throw a Sazerac at me and I have to break out the sugar cubes I’m going to get a little excited and maybe start mixing myself Manhattans.
Bar tenders rant: I drink and I know how strong the drinks I make are. I can drink a shit ton more than you and I see that you’re wasted after two Long Islands. Don’t fucking ask for more booze. What’s 43 times 2?
Dustin de Wynde: Ah, neocon humor. I can see the joke he is trying to make and it might actually be kind of funny if there were even a glimmer of truth to it.
But making jokes about what a radical socialist Obama is is sort of like saying “Isn’t it funny how Jewish people drink so much and only eat potatoes? And how about those stingy Irish?”
Kev-O-Tron: The answer to life, the universe, and everything. Times two, plus two, and all halved again. Now make that martini straight up with a twist and we be talkin.
wow, 279 comments! looks like the wonkette minions had a very busy memorial day, memorializing our mutual addiction for noonington-shire word porn.
happy memorial day to all and to all a good night.
Uh, let’s make that an even 280 before SKS’s Morning Roundup. Sara? SARA!?!
I want to be the 50th commenter to comment about the 300 previous comments, bringing us up to 1.2 million comments, if my new math is correct.
But seriously, folks: for fuck’s sake.
Neilist: You’ll forgive me for being sensitive on this point. I have what some would characterize as a “target rich environment.”
This pisses me off on numerous levels. First, though I’m an atheist, fuck her for that little jab at the catholics. Yes, my mother bows to a foreign pope, but that’s better than some dumbass graduate of Bob Jones University or whatever tightass Episcopalian Nooners listens to. Second, what she’s referring to is the hero archetype (influential in the Catholic church), which America did not invent nor can America’s stupid Boomer liberals destroy. The Iliad? All of British literature? Anyone? Nooners should fucking read a book that isn’t about Reagan.
“More than most nations[?], America has been, from its start, a hero-loving place.” Yeah, I’ve noticed all those stories about heroes of the Mexican-American War.
Public “heroes” and hero-worship are a function of military PR and hacks like the Marchioness de Noonieville.
Pehaps Peggatha Nooningshire should hire a PR company to romanticize war, as she says, war is getting a bad rap. If we could show a more sanitized version of war, like Iraq, where all of the enemy gets killed and the cost to US is hidden (no planeloads of caskets), more of us would step up to be cannon fodder. We must learn to love and worship war.
Neilist: Good posts. This time.
/Narrows eyes menacingly
I see, Catholics don’t like heroes. It all makes sense now.
Carlos: RCs like heroes, but if only first horribly martyred. Which is unlike American Protestants, who prefer their heroes to be elected or appointed to public office or placed on the board of directors of a conglomerate like Enron or GM, by that thus confirming their morality.
The Civil War gave war a bad reputation.