Bloglines user
bill.giltner@gmail.com has sent this item to you.
| |  | | Hullabaloo
"We deal in illusions, man. None of it is true. But you people sit there day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds. We're all you know. You're beginning to believe the illusions we're spinning here. You're beginning to think that the tube is reality and that your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you. You dress like the tube. You eat like the tube. You even think like the tube. In God's name, you people are the real thing, WE are the illusion." Howard Beale | | |
| Gird Your Loins
by digby
The sublime Wolcott tries to prepare us for what's coming:
Like so many of her fellow insufferables on the right, the Anchoress has to grip and wield her nun's ruler of rectitude ever more fiercely now that the war in Iraq has gone so disastrously and Bush's poll numbers are eating through the floorboards. The rhetoric will escalate into the higher rafters of hysteria as they find themselves more and more in the minority, finding it harder and harder to scrape up a lynch mob to go after such dastardly varmints as the Dixie Chicks. Or it will delve deeper into the mire, as the Anchoress leads them into noble battle against the Cult of Mendacity with a crucifix in one hand, a toilet plunger in the other.
It's going to be bad, no matter what. Do you remember what it was like before Bush was president? The blond shrieking harpies with aneurysms the size of tennis balls pulsing wildly on their throats and temples? It's all going to come back, only worse. This time they really, truly believed they had embarked on a thousand year Reich.
. | | | | |
No comments:
Post a Comment