Monday, 01/22/2018

Miss Sam


Monkeys in clothes making space history.

ntodd

January 22, 12:19 PM in Mars, Bitches! | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sunday, 01/21/2018

We Don't Need Another Hero

The Poet As Hero:

You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented, 
   Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why 
Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented— 
   My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. 
 
You are aware that once I sought the Grail, 
   Riding in armour bright, serene and strong; 
And it was told that through my infant wail 
   There rose immortal semblances of song. 
 
But now I've said good-bye to Galahad, 
   And am no more the knight of dreams and show: 
For lust and senseless hatred make me glad, 
   And my killed friends are with me where I go. 
Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs; 
And there is absolution in my songs.

Siegfried Sassoon.

ntodd

January 21, 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

There is Nothing that Will Make an Trumper Shit So quick as the Sight of A brown Person

An account in Doris Kearns Goodwin's book, Team of Rivals:

One of Lincoln’s favorite anecdotes sprang from the early days just after the Revolution. Shortly after the peace was signed, the story began, the Revolutionary War hero Ethan Allen “had occasion to visit England,” where he was subjected to considerable teasing banter. The British would make “fun of the Americans and General Washington in particular and one day they got a picture of General Washington” and displayed it prominently in the outhouse so Mr. Allen could not miss it. When he made no mention of it, they finally asked him if he had seen the Washington picture. Mr. Allen said, “he thought that it was a very appropriate [place] for an Englishman to Keep it. Why they asked, for said Mr. Allen there is Nothing that Will Make an Englishman Shit So quick as the Sight of Genl Washington."

Anyway, happy birthday, you landgrabbing asshole rebel:

Immediately after the commencement of the Revolutionary War, [Ethan] Allen and Warner became primarily conspicuous among the Green Mountain Boys (as settlers in that region denominated themselves), who were as ready to seize the musket in defence of American liberty as were any in the regularly organized colonies, and, indeed, were the very first to assail His Majesty's forces, in the surprise and capture of Ticonderoga, led by Allen, and seconded by Warner; and Crown Point, the next fortress held by the British arms, was on the following day taken by Warner, to whom that honor was conceded by the other officers engaged in that affair.

Both Allen and Warner were made colonels by the self-assumed authority of the occupants of what now constitutes the State of Vermont, and were recognized as such by the army, soon after those events, destined by Congress for the invasion of Canada, and as partisan officers did good service therein. Allen's career was, however, short, he being made prisoner in a rash attempt to surprise Montreal during the progress of the siege of St. John's, by Gen. Montgomery, and sent in irons to England to be tried as a traitor.

Allen and his hearty band of Vermonters kicked ass at Ticonderoga, which helped Genl Washington take Boston the following year.  By the by, he never was transported for trial, having being released in a cowardly prisoner exchange [Trump: what a LOSER!], whereupon he was breveted to colonel by Congress.

ntodd

January 21, 7:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My god cover your heads...


And get out of the boiling rain!

ntodd

January 21, 1:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Shutting Down

Now the Slow Blood:

Slow the voice goes slower.
Slow the slow rain down.
Slow the narrow fellow in the grass stiffens.
Now the slow blood stirs.
Slow the voice goes slower:
Soft lead, soft enough to eat.
We dine on soft lead with lampreys.
Slow the voice goes down to harden.
Slow the silt reaches the bottom,
And Davy Jones eats
His slow meal of rubber and clay.
Slow the slow rain down can rain.
Slow the dead is dead.
Slow the light, light.
Slow the spirit is a bone,
Toy from a child’s coffin.

Robert Fernandez.

ntodd

January 21, 12:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Saturday, 01/20/2018

Turn Ons: Pulling Wings Off Flies

OMB Director MulvaneyI found out for the first time last night that the person who technically shuts the government down is me, which is kind of cool.

Another thing he thinks is kinda cool: zeroing the budget for consumer protection.  Probably would enjoy nuking the DPRK as well.

ntodd

January 20, 11:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Weird Coincidence That So Many Presidents Have Been Inaugurated On January 20th

From today's date page on Wikipedia:

Sometimes history doesn't rhyme at all.

ntodd

January 20, 7:32 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

What Is Truth?


This old world's wakin' to a new born day...

ntodd

January 20, 1:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thy soul shall find itself alone

Spirits of the Dead:

The breeze—the breath of God—is still— 
And the mist upon the hill, 
Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken, 
Is a symbol and a token— 
How it hangs upon the trees, 
A mystery of mysteries!

Edgar Allan Poe.

ntodd

January 20, 12:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Friday, 01/19/2018

Art thou the Grand Old Party?


Thou sayest.

ntodd

January 19, 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ruining Gummint Like A Bidness

CNN

BREAKING: The Senate has cast enough votes to block bill to fund government

GOP:

Thanks, Obama!

ntodd

January 19, 11:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tryin' to run from the destruction, you know I didn't even care

Oops, out of time:

And you independents?  Buy yourselves a clue with all that sweet Trump Tax Cut Bitcoin you'll be getting at the end of the rainbow...

ntodd

January 19, 8:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tuesday, 01/16/2018

It's the same old theme


Many people die too soon.

ntodd

January 16, 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hello! there’s a pregnant phrase.

It Is Later Than You Think:

Lone amid the café’s cheer, 
Sad of heart am I to-night; 
Dolefully I drink my beer, 
But no single line I write. 
There’s the wretched rent to pay, 
Yet I glower at pen and ink: 
Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray, 
It is later than you think! 

Robert W. Service.

ntodd

January 16, 11:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I don't believe in an interventionist God


But I know, darling, that you do.

ntodd

January 16, 12:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Monday, 01/15/2018

it will be interesting to see what steps the moon will take to be revenged

Staggerlee wonders:

I always wonder
what they think the niggers are doing
while they, the pink and alabaster pragmatists, 
are containing 
Russia  
and defining and re-defining and re-aligning 
China, 
nobly restraining themselves, meanwhile,
from blowing up that earth
which they have already 
blasphemed into dung: 
the gentle, wide-eyed, cheerful
ladies, and their men,
nostalgic for the noble cause of Vietnam,
nostalgic for noble causes,
aching, nobly, to wade through the blood of savages—
ah—!
Uncas shall never leave the reservation, 
except to purchase whisky at the State Liquor Store.
The Panama Canal shall remain forever locked: 
there is a way around every treaty.
We will turn the tides of the restless
Caribbean, 
the sun will rise, and set
on our hotel balconies as we see fit.
The natives will have nothing to complain about,
indeed, they will begin to be grateful,
will be better off than ever before. 
They will learn to defer gratification
and save up for things, like we do. 

James Baldwin.

ntodd

January 15, 11:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)