(9 am. – promoted by ek hornbeck)
I’ve been doing some deep thinking, and was going to post three essays today featuring my deep thoughts about the economic crisis, the banking crisis, and the global warming crisis, but the deeper I thought about these deep issues and the deep impact they are having, the deeper I sank into deep crisis fatigue. So I took a deep break, and realized that except for Norm Coleman and possibly John Cornyn, no one has ever had deeper thoughts about deep issues than Jack Handey . . .
To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there’s no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
I hope that after I die, people will say of me: “That guy sure owed me a lot of money.”
If you’re a young Mafia gangster out on your first date, I bet it’s real embarrassing if someone tries to kill you.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is “God is crying.” And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is “Probably because of something you did.”
I have the deepest respect for Jack Handey, but I think it’s more likely God is crying because of all the crap Evangelical Christianists do. They should listen to Jack Handey. We all should, after all, he tried to warn us about Wall Street bankers. When they die, we’ll say, “Those guys sure owe us a lot of money.” And long after they’re dead, our great grandchildren will say, “Those guys still owe us a lot of money.” Jack Handey’s deep thoughts encompass more issues than one might think at first glance. Take Daily Kos, for example. It’s like ballet, except there’s no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I’d just quit my job and become a bum for a few years, because I was thinking about doing that anyway.
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid looking in a mirror, because I bet that will really throw you into a panic.
Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you’re a mile away and you have their shoes.
Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you’d look out your little window and think, “Boy, I’m glad I’m not out in that.”
If you lived in the Dark Ages and you were a catapult operator, I bet the most common question people would ask is, “Can’t you make it shoot farther?” “No, I’m sorry. That’s as far as it shoots.”
As this Dark Age of corporate media propaganda begins to fade and the Netroots Renaissance expands, RePugs are freaking out, their propaganda is falling short of the target, they’re desperately asking their corporate media catapult operators, “Can’t you make it shoot further?”
Limbaugh isn’t admitting it yet, but his catapult of wingnut hate has shot as far as it shoots. Hannity isn’t admitting it yet, but his catapult of wingnut smears has shot as far as it shoots. O’Reilly hasn’t admitted it yet, but his catapult of wingnut lies has shot as far as it shoots. The long RePug siege is ending, the walls of progressive America are still standing, an American Renaissance is dawning, progressives are the sunrise, we are the light Americans are finally beginning to see after a long age of darkness.
The RePugs and their corporate media catapult operators are still shooting though, they’re still clueless that their antics are making them objects of derision and contempt. As Digby notes in “Redux” , RePugs are afraid . . .
Obama’s success would mean decades in the wilderness for Republicans. But by looking for failure of Obama’s policy initiatives they are also showing a tremendous insecurity about their own philosophy.
I’m deeply thinking that insecurity is echoing through the empty skulls of RePugs because of the cataclysmic failure of their foreign policy, economic policies, fiscal policies, social policies, criminal justice policies, immigration policies, legislative strategies, campaign strategies, the meltdown of their Permanent Republican Majority into a puddle of toxic obstructionist sludge, and last but not least, because they can no longer bear the unbearable burden of knowing that too many OB-GYNs aren’t able to practice their love with women all across this country.
All day I see Republicans on television, filled with sanctimony and phony concern, keening about the deficit and reckless spending and fiscal responsibility. Today, they’ve even resurrected the “tax and spend” trope. These are the same Republicans who gave away the budget surplus to their wealthy friends and who then went on to destroy the financial system. The same people who spent an estimated three trillion dollars on a war based on lies that didn’t need to be fought. Now they are shamelessly publicly lecturing the new president on “responsibility” and obstructing everything they know is necessary for a recovery, but it sounds hollow and strange in current circumstances.
We’ve always known RePugs are hollow and strange, not to mention insane, but that’s becoming common knowledge now and its driving them into a catapult firing frenzy. Their catapults are still shooting on FOX, right wing radio, wingnut blogs, and at gatherings of the deviant, deranged and deluded such as CPAC.
Their Mighty Wurlitzer can still be heard, but the pipes are broken. It always filled the air with strident RePug anthems as the catapults fired. They’d always been able to pound on the keys and get everything they want. Every time the Mighty Wurlitzer cranked out Onward Christian Soldiers, the Pentagon passed the collection plate and American taxpayers dutifully filled it up with cash. Every time it cranked out that old standby, the Tax Cuts for the Rich Polka, Americans obediently grabbed their partner and do-se-doed until they dropped. Every time A Mighty Fortress Is My GOP boomed out across America’s airwaves, RePugs everywhere sang along at the top of their lungs and no one else could be heard.
The Mighty Wurlitzer has been cranked up for years, we’ve all seen it in action, but it’s no longer having the same effect. The RePugs pounding the keys are panicking, the Mighty Wurlitzer has never failed them before, they don’t know what else to do, so they just keep playing louder, they just keep pounding out their crazed polka tunes and discordant hymns to the dead God of Reaganomics, expecting the good old days of the Gipper and Morning in America to magically return.
It’s. Not. Going. To. Happen. The Mighty Wurlitzer has played its last mindless polka, it’s last manic hymn to a dead god. More and more Americans are reacting to RePugs with disgust and revulsion. Their dark ideology is dying and for most Americans, all that’s left to say is good riddance.
Americans are finally realizing that the Chimes of Freedom must ring for everyone if they are to have any real meaning, they have to ring for the searching ones on their speechless, seeking trail, for lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale, for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail, for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed, for the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse, for every weary human being in the whole wide universe.
That’s who We the People are. We’re flawed, we make mistakes, but we’re all brothers and sisters in the family of humanity. No matter where we were born, we were born equal, we all deserve freedom, equality, respect, and compassion. We’re born, and all too soon, we die, but between sundown’s finish, and midnight’s broken toll, we can pick each other up when we fall, we can do that much at least . . .