I lost a perfectly good post on this subject, when the damnable machine restarted of its own volition for the first time this afternoon. Perhaps one of my readers is right, I may have a loose wire on my restart button. Sigh.
I am just gonna start hitting that 'Save as Draft' button, a lot. Except it makes me want to have a beer, for some reason.
Anyway, back to torture, and The Incredible Lost Post, I made some sort of statement about how Michael Dukocklis answered a question about his opinion on the death penalty assuming that his wife had been raped or murdered or something, and his resultant answer made most of America reach back and wipe, and then flush him into the Cesspool of History where all Demoncrats belong, can I get an amen.
And that Liberaltarians are the poorly chewn corn in their turds.
People, thousands of Americans were raped and murdered on 9/11. Right? It was all over the news, I'm sure of it.
I lost any sympathy I might ever have had (the entire thimble full of it) for our adversaries when I listened to Nick Berg scream as he got his head sawed off for him.
Fear? I do not know fear. And I fear everything. I am, perhaps, the most dangerous coward you will ever meet. I make no decision based on fear, because I know that for the kind of Loser Thinking it is, and I fear losing.
Some, apparently, do not.
They still think it was a bad idea for us to intern the Japanese on our soil, even though it is a historical (Note: Not 'hysterical') fact that there were Japanese agents and sympathizers among the interned.
And apparently, there is no such thing as terrorists, merely people who see them under their beds, and because government lies (and demonstrably so, and often) there really is nothing to see here, so let us just move along.
Whups! Never mind that pile of dead Americans mouldering over there! Just move along.
The Totalitarian Libertarian is a thing to fear, and as fanatical in their beliefs as any jihadist.
I am still formulating my thoughts for a post on why I hate Liberaltarians so, but it is like trying to eat syrup with a fork, or catch smoke with a net. You know it is there, but it slithers like mercury, and breaks apart, and reflects all of the other colors around it, and has no heart and soul of its own.
So far, all I have been able to identify is "We want our dope!" and "We want to fuck whatever we want!" and a inexplicable disregard for how words mean things, and behaviors eventually effect everybody and everything around each and every epicenter, like a cascading series of small strokes eventually overwhelms a formerly functioning brain.
I'll work on it, and get back to you.
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You must be at least this tall to ride this ride












Monday, September 25, 2006

