Monday, April 02, 2007

Hillary Clinton and Steven WarRan: When We Were Young and Just Starting Out

Look what I found! Isn't this del.ic.ou.s fun! Except, I'm spotting a pattern here with me when it comes to women and cameras. Let's just call it deference, and stimulation. Making them feel pretty and ducking out of the way in the evidence.

At least I can get them going, unlike the moribund actors on the Pentagon stage. That comes from my taking a single (general) math and a single (general) science class in the ninth grade in total fulfillment of my public high school requirements, then taking 18 credits of theater and drama with the most sublime mentor and genius, a man who literally saved my life.

I can't remember, but I must have risked saying something borderline off-color here, but I do recall another picture of the two of us from that morning, which was published in the New York Post, where we both look saintly ahead, our eyes cast demurely down, attending to our work, so I must have made a quick amends.

Of course this won't do Hillary any good, and I don't care. I no longer support either side in our system of balanced corruption. I see the Republican fury during Bill's white house years for what it was: clear eyed, level headed envy, knowing what he was getting away with. Both parties must have ratcheted it down a couple of notches on the what-can-be-purloined - under-the-guise-of "public-good"-scale. Dubya is entirely a synthetic creation of recent vintage, and it should be easy to trace the guilty in his midst; his supporters only go back to Texas bundler days; corporate fatcats, crooks like MBNA, who beat out ENRON as top giver, and got to savage the bankruptcy laws as a result; then there's the Christo-Fascist terrorists, the fundamentalists who combined with neo-con seditiousness of the Zionists.

I never understood the enthusiasm for Bush until recently. What they were whispering amongst themselves at the beginning was: this man is a certified sociopath! We can do, or say, or take anything, and he'll still be able to keep a straight face and pull one over! We'll just back the truck right up to the treasury door, and load in! He is the most incredible actor in the world, you'd never know he was acting, because he's not--he doesn't know HOW to tell the truth! It's reflexive.

Now wait a minute--we're on my territory! And I say the opening number in this act is going to be By His Fruits We Shall Know Him, sung to the tune of the old white-cracker spiritual, The Old Rugged Cross.

Still believing blandly in the American Constitution and the rule of law, and really just dreading the alternative, like getting what we deserve, I say, show me. Let's see how honest leaders can get. Let them break down along the fault lines of their evil triumvirate where I can smell the sulfur emanating from the cracks, as the rapture-ready get in bed with the Zionists, claiming an end-times doctrinal necessity just discovered, as the country-club conservatives speak and snicker behind their palms.

We are of a different three kinds now. The foreknowledged, who are simply forsaken. The forensic, who must be forepassed, although foreborne will do nicely. And the force majeure, who gad about with foreplay--and that would be without foreskins, since the latest research finds circumcision reduces the rate of HIV transmission by 60%.
Hold Em

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