Month: April 2007

A May Day E-Mail From Beyond

lenin is dead

Date: April 30, 2007



Subject: May Day tomorrow

Dear glorious revolutionaries:

Hello, it is I, Lenin.

You might be wondering how it is that I come to write you this e-mail, since I am in Hell. Yes, it is true, I have been living here for the past 83 years, and let me tell you it is no picnic. If I have learned anything since being down here, it is this: the devil exists and he is a bitch.

But that is not why I am writing to you today.

Actually, it was my buddy Che, who sleeps in the cot next to me, who gave me the idea to write to you. (Truthfully, sleep is perhaps not the best word for what happens to us at night. Perhaps it might be better to describe it as unceasingly violent ass penetration by sadistic red imps wielding fiery diseased pitchforks. But again, I digress.)

So this morning, while Che and I performed our morning ablutions at the hot coal brazier, he said to me, “Comrade Vladimir, do you know what tomorrow is?”

To which I responded, “Of course I know what tomorrow is. It is May Day. I practically invented the thing, you fool.”

“Well Vlad,” he says, “staffing is going to be light, with all the parties and shit, so I think one of us should maybe sneak into the guard shack and see if we can get on the internet.”

“To what end?” I asked.

“It seems to me our comrades living in America have lost their way. They’ve forgotten what May Day is all about. I’m afraid they do not know how best to carry on with the work you and comrade Karl began so long ago.”

“Do not mention comrade Karl to me,” I interrupted. “He knows I saw him steal my tube of salve, and he’s been avoiding me like the plague.”

“Nevertheless, it would be good if we offered our American friends some guidance.”

This intrigued me. “What do you propose, comrade Che?”

And that is when he gave me the idea for this e-mail.

So it is that I, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, wish to address you members of the American Vanguard, especially: you teachers and professors, you labor leaders, you members of the press who have done such exemplary work, you mid level bureaucrats and petty politicians, and last but not least, you artists, philosophers, thespians, poets and singers too.

Tomorrow is May Day and the question is, what are you doing to bring about the communist revolution in your decadent country? What have you done to swell the ranks of the proletarian army? How are you transforming a nation of bourgeois sycophants into sickle-wielders? Ones who will overthrow and destroy your imperialist oppressors!

Here is what you should be doing:

First, build upon what you started last year, with your clever “immigrant rights” demonstrations. The hispanic immigrant is ripe for the picking (no pun intended). Get to him early, mold him, and he will become your army!

Teachers, be sly. Do not tell your students to walk out of class — tell them not to. Every kid wants to skip school. By making it taboo, they will want to do it even more. Just make sure there are organizers ready to funnel them into the march route. We do not want them going to the mall, heaven hell forbid!

Ideally, May Day will become an annual event for immigrant kids. A hispanics-only version of senior ditch day. A new generation of kids will grow up anticipating their extra holiday, Primero de Mayo! Two holidays in one week, who would not love it? But make sure the propaganda accompanying this holiday is blatant and ever-present.

That is where you artists, philosophers, and performers come in. I want to see multilingual signs, bongos, puppets, dancing and flags waving! Whatever grievance you might have, put it on a sign. Do not worry about contradictory messages or even simple logic. Find creative ways to link immigrant oppression and worker oppression to anti-globalism and anti-war messages. Signs that mock your imperialist masters are best, but anti-establishment and anti-religious signs work well too. Basically anything that challenges the traditions and values that hold society together are a good idea. You must first destroy society before you can rebuild it into the proletarian utopia we all want.

Remember, these are impressionable minds we are working on. Protest everything. The children may not understand it all, but as through osmosis, they will absorb the primary message we must convey to them — that they are victims, and that the only means for their salvation is the rejection of everything they previously thought was right and good. The natural avenue for these new converts to our cause will be, of course, the Democratic Party. I would be remiss if I did not say thank you to the many hard working fellow travellers who have co-opted that once patriotic party into the ranks of International Communism.

Members of the press, your job is perhaps the most important of all. First, you should subtly publicize where the demostrations will be held, so that people will know where to go. Even more importantly, you must at all costs conceal every message at these various protests except only the most benign expressions. You should also vastly overstate the number of people in attendance. Your task is to portray these demonstrations as an inexorable force that ordinary capitalist Americans can neither halt nor deny. Their false consciousness will begin to break down as we sow the seeds of despair among them.

Good luck to you all tomorrow. I must go now. One of the new arrivals has been standing behind me for the last half hour, a college kid from the looks of him. He really wants to get on this computer and check out the MSNBC website, for some unholy reason. He is very impatient, and something tells me I should probably not piss him off.

Sinisterly yours,

Владимир Ильич Ленин

Symphony of Sycophants

And it’s a Schermerhorn of a good time as the city’s smallest fiddles resin their bows.

Like yanking doughnuts away from a diabetic, the left side of our backwater neck of the hickosphere fell on bended gingham knee at the possibility that the filthy Big Media lucre, that’s helped to fuel a thousand cyber-Stalinists, maybe, possibly, not-for-sure but I’m shittin’ my pants at the thought of it, might be drying up.

The news that Local Activist/President/GM of ABC, who opted to use an evil, conservative corporation’s money to fund two exclusively Soviet websites to shout down the right-leaning free media, was being sent on a permanent vacation going to leave to spend more time with the ‘fam has sent ripples from the wine glasses of Germantown all the way to the wine glasses of Woodland Street (read: 3 miles).

Hell, even the Weather Man got in on it. (see “Partly Cloudy” with a chance of Chomsky)

This is the definition of Heart-ache ™, people.

Imagine an even playing field again.

Remember the even playing field?

The one where we only had to compete against The Nashville Scene, The Tennessean, The Memphis Commercial-Appeal, The Knoxville News-Sentinel, and every major television and radio network?


One For The Neo-cons

“Since when has a bomb helped a woman?” asked the idiotic Berkeley student in an anti-Iraq war protest.

This was four or so years ago and I cannot find the quote by Googling anymore. However, that glib I-got-it-all-figured-out quote has been seared, seared into my mind.

Some of our very own trolls have nothing to say except “sign up and don’t send me to your wars” as if the U.S. military would even have them.

That said, Mark Steyn shows peaceniks for the vacuous lot they are:

Meanwhile, the leftists don’t accept it because, while they’re fond of “causes,” they dislike those that require meaningful action: Ask Tibetans about how effective half a century of America’s “Free Tibet” campaign has been; or ask Darfuris, assuming you can find one still breathing, how the left’s latest fetishization is going from their perspective:

“On Sunday, April 29, Salt Lake Saves Darfur invites the greater Salt Lake community of compassion to join with us as we honor the fallen and suffering Darfuris in a day of films, discussion and dance with a Sudanese dance troupe.”

Ace asks something similar in an unrelated post regarding the ousting of the Taliban.

… how do 40,000 fewer infant deaths per year factor into the left’s “war never solved anything” and “war is bad for the health of puppies and flowers and other living things” slogans?

Short answer – it doesn’t. Just close your eyes and imagine that everything evil is done by “multinational corporations” and it all makes sense.

I Wuz Robbed. Seriously.

She was anyway:

Former U.S. senator and presidential candidate Carol Moseley Braun suffered a broken wrist when a mugger tried to steal her purse, authorities said Saturday.
Zachary Trayes-Gibson said he had been walking with a friend when he heard screams.

“I turned to look and saw a woman on the ground and a man on top of her assaulting her,” Trayes-Gibson said. “It looked like he was throwing punches. I turned and ran toward them, and my friend yelled out ‘Hey!’ and he (the assailant) looked up.”

After the attacker ran off, Trayes-Gibson was surprised to learn who he was helping.

“He is the hero of the day,” Lampe said.

Considering the pallor of her “hero”, I’m surprised her spokesperson didn’t issue a response contending Mr. Trayes-Gibson lynched her with kindness.

So when can we expect a description of the suspect?

I Wuz Robbed Redux

***UPDATED 10/11/08*** Since Ginger linked here and all four of her visitors dropped by over the last day let’s say this post was about more than calling her a piggy.  Sure, it gets to that after I ask her to spend an afternoon with the woman one of her heroes almost stabbed to death while she spends her life stroking the murderer’s hand and lamenting what a loss to the poetry community it would be if he rode the lightning.  As if it’s my responsibility to console the victims when she’s trying to have the victimizer released from Death Row.   But this post was neither about her or the quality of some defunct Nashville restaurant’s ribs.  Please.  There’s not enough there to write about.  Don’t flatter yourself.

The comments cover this as well.  Not that the shallow people who get off on “lean in” photos with local morons will want to venture into the realm of critical thought that far.

PS – Having lunch with Barry Scheck, the guy who got OJ Simpson off for killing his wife, must really be something to brag about.



Les Jones looks back on the VT massacre and posts links to a couple of sites decrying Mark Steyn’s apparently viral vigilantism vis a vis our culture of passivity. In it, he links to soon-to-be unemployed restaurateur, The Nashville Knucklehead, who serves up a parboiled tale from his Colander of Crime about the night he was robbed at the West End O’Charley’s and almost got everybody killed due to his “too clever by half” chicanery. Feel free to read his post by way of Silence’s place as I’m not linking to him.

Hey, I don’t eat there – why link there? No brothers in pork are we:

Some bloggers and others are describing what it was really like to find themselves being robbed at gunpoint. It’s probably a good idea to read those accounts before forming an opinion about how a reasonable person can be expected to react when a gun is pointed at them.

This may come as a newsflash to some folks but the students at Virginia Tech were not being robbed. Sure, in a metaphysical sense they were being robbed (of their innocence, a liberal arts education, etc.) but they were not being held up for cash. An important distinction as we’re determining intent here.

The crux of the Knuck’s post being that “unless you’ve been on the wrong end of a gun you just need to STFU!” Well, much like the shock of throngs of paying customers coming through the door it may be as big of a jolt to the worldly Knuck to know that he ain’t the only one who’s had a gun to his head. The bigger shock being that the same porcine, pigknuckled libs in his comments thread would be rooting for his killer in the courtroom had he pulled the trigger. Show up on death row and talk about how kind and gentle he is in ten years.

The same tortured logic that says you had brain cancer so now you know as much as an oncologist says that since you got ganked for your Chicken O’Tenders that you can expound thusly on the VT Massacre.

Three words for our manly meathandler: Paul Dennis Reid (bottom of the page). A name most Tennesseans, if not monitors of serial murderers, are familiar. No one wants to take a bullet for the register and even though every one of his victims complied the only support they received for fealty to felons came from pallbearers.

The only thing more disgusting than having to mention Reid’s name so long after he has been convicted is how anti-death penalty activists Google Bomb it so you can’t even read what he did without having to sift through a dozen of their sites making excuses for him and victimizing the dead again. Or deface the Wikipedia pages of the victims as we’ve discussed before with the member of Tennessee’s Coalition Against State Killing anti-death penalty activist that does it.

No amount of groveling or trembling in the restaurant’s refrigerator was going to save Reid’s victims.

So drop all this “I wuz robbed so you shut up” nonsense. Every situation is different. But what these people are asking is that future victims aren’t allowed to defend themselves. As we’ve seen earlier this week, such “one size fits all solutions” only work if you’re being fitted for a casket.

Fatty’s Delight
Thick-necked Fast Food Serial Killer – Paul Dennis Reid
Here, piggy piggy. Let me cry on your ample shoulder.

Cause For Celebration Inexplicably Memorialized

Only in California. Well, maybe not only in California, but certainly an unsurprising turn of events for the Gay Bay Area.

“Man tragically killed” during attempted robbery.

Feelin’ the SF Chronicle love yet?

Allen Joseph Hicks III, 22, was an accused batterer on probation for a drug conviction and an aspiring rap artist whom everybody in his neighborhood knew as “Boonie.”

The lives of the two men intersected tragically at about 9:30 p.m. Thursday when Hicks, armed with a pistol and joined by two other men, tried to rob Piedra inside the popular pizzeria at 89th Avenue and International Boulevard. Fearful that the assailants might hurt him, his wife and three children — all of whom were inside the restaurant — Piedra pulled out his 9mm semiautomatic pistol and opened fire, killing Hicks, police said.

In the chaos, Piedra may have accidentally shot and wounded his 17-year-old son, who was not seriously injured, police said.

Simply outstanding journalism from Henry “Tookie” Lee. Their lives “intersected tragically” when Boonie and his dawgs decided it was time to rob the pizza place. When Lee wrote that Piedra was fearful that the assailants might hurt him, it really painted a picture for me. It’s like I was there. Top notch wordsmithing.

But if you think Lee’s journalistic skills need work, just smell what the Oakland P.D. be cookin’.

The drama began at 9:37 p.m. when three men walked into the pizzeria. Hicks was armed with a pistol and walked up to Piedra, pointed the weapon at him and said, “This is a robbery,” according to police and Piedra.

Piedra said his 17-year-old son, 19-month-old son and 13-year-old daughter were inside the restaurant at the time. Piedra said he was afraid that the assailants would shoot him or hurt his family, a contention supported by Oakland police who nevertheless cautioned against citizens taking direct action against criminals.

“There is definitely a balance,” said Officer Roland Holmgren, department spokesman. “This thing had potential — who knows where the suspects were going to take the situation? But by no stretch of the imagination are we agreeing with or justifying what the owner did.”

Thanks, Officer. This is why we don’t call you when there’s a problem. Piedra should be hailed as a freaking role model, not second-guessed. Just remember kids, don’t take the law into your own hands. Wait for the Police Clean-Up Crew™ to come and scrape up the remains of you and your family. Be a good witness, but don’t defend yourself.

Holmgren said, “We’re not saying that we want citizens to go out there and arm themselves and take the law into their own hands. We want citizens to be good witnesses, to be good report-takers and to identify suspects.”

The shooting has left two families traumatized, Holmgren said. “There are no winners in this whole case,” he said.

Well, that’s where you’re wrong again, Officer. Society wins when human debris like Boonie is shown the door. Oakland is a winner. The country is a winner. The planet is a winner. And most of all Piedra is a winner, because he didn’t allow himself and his family to become more statistics in the mile-long Oakland P.D. daily crime report.

The toughest part, though, is the loss of another young rapper. If there’s one thing this country is in need of, it’s more of the same. Journalist “Tookie” Lee made sure that he took a knee and wept at the Boonie’s makeshift memorial to show proper respeck for the fallen rap hero. And despite his occasional failings, Boonie was a good man.

Last month, Alameda County prosecutors charged Hicks with two counts each of battery and making threats and one count of brandishing a gun in November and December against his girlfriend, with whom he had been engaged to be married.

The woman said she ended their three-month relationship after Hicks became physically abusive, Oakland police Officer John Biletnikoff wrote in court records. On Christmas Day, Hicks let himself into her home with a key, got into an argument with her and punched her in the face six times, police said.

“One of the blows was so hard her head hit the wall and it put a hole in the wall,” Biletnikoff wrote. After she fell to the ground, Hicks kicked her in the stomach, she told police.

Hicks once called the woman and showed up with a gun in his hand, the woman told police.

The 28-year-old woman, who didn’t want her name used, told The Chronicle on Friday that despite the alleged abuse, Hicks was a “good person.” Still, she said she very surprised that he was shot and killed in an apparent robbery attempt. “I wouldn’t think that he would have done something like that,” she said.

(via SeeDub, GMTA)

Toad Blogging Returns

My Offset Victory Pond™ is nearly complete and Mother Gaia is ready to party!

Meet the first frog of Spring. I think we’ll call him Captain Equinox.

Uh oh. Run Captain Equiniox! Run!

BTW, do you suppose that this presents some sort of problem for PETA people? I think the snake may be having “unethical” thoughts about my Captain.

Every Day Is A Whining Ho

Like a couple of giggling 7th graders, Sheryl Crow and Laurie David turned in their essay on harassing Karl Rove at the WH Correspondent’s Dinner to their Huffin’ Glue Post civics teacher:

Last night Thelma and Louise drove the bus off the cliff or at least into the White House Correspondents Dinner. The “highlight” of the evening had to be when we were introduced to Karl Rove. How excited were we to have our first opportunity ever to talk directly to the Bush Administration about global warming.

We asked Mr. Rove if he would consider taking a fresh look at the science of global warming. Much to our dismay, he immediately got combative.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like being ambushed at dinner as much as the next guy, but there is something inherently scripted in the notion of Laurie David and Sheryl Crow running up to Karl Rove with the manual to stop Global Warming ™ so that he will finally know it exists and can press the button in the White House that makes it stop.

If it existed.

Which it doesn’t.

But much like a fan trying to get a response from Sheryl Crow on filesharing, Karl Rove wasn’t having any of it.

So the kitty shows it’s claws.

Like a groundhog fearful of his own shadow, he scurried to his table in an attempt to hibernate for another year from his responsibility to address global warming. Drama aside, you would expect as an American citizen to be able to engage in a civil discussion with a public official. Instead, Mr. Rove was dismissive, condescending, and quite frankly a bully.


Procedural question: Do you get the Huffington Post login before or after you plan the hit?

You approach me. Come up to my table. Start talking smack but I’m the bully?

Next time Sheryl is out at a public restaurant, I hope some global warming enthusiasts will ask her why her livelihood depends on selling a product of non-biodegradable plastic, shipped by black-smoke belching 18-wheelers to powersucking retail warehouses in an effort to sell music to people who are forced to drive their own fossil fuel burning SUVs to get there in the first place.

Preach it, Sister! (tm), but Live It (patent pending) too. If Sheryl really wants to help the environment, she can start by persuading everyone at her label to stop the madness of the old way of distributing cd’s worldwide and only sell music through RIAA approved sites over the internet. The Planet you save may be your own.

Then we can break the news to Laurie about how everyone who saw “An Inconvenient Truth” got to the 68 degree climate controlled Megaplex in a gas combustion vehicle. Because, quite frankly, I don’t have the heart.

UPDATE: (Preston) In another display of Hollywood scientific genius, Sheryl wants YOU to save the environment by limiting yourself to one square of toilet paper per crapper visit.

Sheryl Crow wants to impose a mandatory one-square per sitting toilet paper standard in order to save the planet. Crow had been touring colleges across the great nation of America in order to raise public awareness about global warming.

Crow has teamed up with environmental activist Laurie David for the “Stop Global Warming College Tour,” an outing that aimed to “motivate college students to become part of the movement to stop global warming and demand solutions from themselves, their schools and their country.”

What, you can’t even spare a square?

UPDATE II (Cranky): The 4 Borders Pundit has been inspired by Ms. Crows heartfelt message (personally, I think it’s insomnia):

Wipe it!

This ain’t no latrine
It ain’t no restroom either
This is WC!

“All I wanna do is wipe a little more before I die,”
Says the man next to me coming out of the loo
It’s apropos
Of nothing
He says his name’s Chertoff but I’m sure,
He’s George or Dick or Karl or Albert
And he’s plain wasteful to me

And I wonder if he’s ever had less than a roll of TP in his whole life
We’re buying toilet paper at noon on Tuesday
In a store that faces an Enron building
The good people of the world are wiping their hineys
On their lunch break, wiping and over-using
As best they can in skirts in suits

They buy their fancy Charmins and Coronets
Back at the Wal-Mart, the grocery store too
Well, they’re nothing like Chertoff and me, cause


All I wanna do is wipe my ass
I got a feeling this roll ain’t gonna last
All I wanna do is wipe my ass
I got a feeling this roll ain’t gonna last
All I wanna do is wipe my ass
Until the sun comes up over my gas-guzzling bus

I like a concert tour early in the morning
And Chertoff likes to ride along
With his cases of Soft Weave

He unrolls them on the bar
Then he separates each square
Putting each one on the bar with his thick fingers
before counting and handing them out

And he’s watching the squares of Scott as the roadies take
them away
And a Soft Weave vendor enters a store
Waving coupons and clean hands

The manager looks up from his paper samples


Otherwise the bus is ours,
The other bus and the roadie bus and the 18-wheelers too
The carbon offsets aren’t enough to buy all the clean diesel fuel

And I’d like the sun and the moon but


Orwell Unchained!

Big Brother Bushie has sunk billions of US taxpayer dollars into efforts to monitor our internet activities, medical records, and cellphone bills. Wuzzadem alerts us to the latest rollback of our civil rights by exploiting the GPS features in our cellphones by Krazy Karl and the rest of the sneaky snoops at BushCo.

And while some of the more cynical among us may think that it’s “cool” to check up on your cheating spouse or your kids for staying out too late by simply typing their cellphone number into this free to the public GPS website, the potential for abuse is frightening. Like destroying the trust that the entire mental institution of marriage is founded upon.

Lying TJ Maxx Whore

Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve ADT’s $24.95 a month monitoring service or something.

Eyes, Windows, Souls, et al.

We can look back and laugh can’t we?

I looked the man in the eye. I found him to be very straightforward and trustworthy. We had a very good dialogue. I was able to get a sense of his soul

Fast forward:

At their first meeting with journalists since taking over Russia’s largest independent radio news network, the managers had startling news of their own: from now on, they said, at least 50 percent of the reports about Russia must be “positive.”

In addition, opposition leaders could not be mentioned on the air and the United States was to be portrayed as an enemy, journalists employed by the network, Russian News Service, say they were told by the new managers, who are allies of the Kremlin.

Good thing commies don’t exist any more or this would be troubling. And do tell Junior, what those eyes are telling you now.

When in doubt about the positive or negative quality of a development, the editor said, “we should ask the new leadership.”

“We are having trouble with the positive part, believe me,” the editor said.

Something tells me Putin won’t have to look far to find a new communications director who knows how to relay orders from communist mouthpieces.

Old Media’s Accomplice To Murder

The ghost of Matthew Shepard should hover on his hands and knees and thank his lucky charms that he was treated as compassionately as he was.

Some might say that’s a little harsh of me. I could not agree more. But if it draws more attention to this story then I am thrilled to be bound and pistol-whipped to this (fence) post.

Having been through the trying experience of searching through family albums and trying to find a photo recent enough to attach to a “MISSING” poster and going to your local Kinko’s to print off as many color copies as you can afford. And suffering the morbid looks you get from the clerks and their shift supervisors when they see the seriousness that brings you to their business. So out of sort from the usual “help me find my ink-cartridge refills” request they receive dozens of times a week.

Blessed and unaware of the stirring riot every revolution of the copier brings with the impatience of another second lost and another second that you are not out wallpapering a neighborhood or combing through the human lice of the bus station. Accosting complete strangers to ask if they’ve seen anyone resembling your loved one. That the pain of not knowing is true enough. But the prospect of denouement can be so much worse.

You pull out your wallet and put all of the money in your pocket on the counter.

Who would dare to try and stop me from showing my poster to anyone?

I imagine that the application of such a cold calculus is what separates us hot-blooded types from the reptilian media.

Which brings us full circle.

We are suffering from a severe media energy drought in Tennessee. In fact, we would have to ramp up production on several more TVA dams to generate the justified amount of kilowatts to execute the publication of a story – much less the murderers of Chris Newsom and Channon Christian:

These two were out on a date minding their own business when they were car jacked and this is what happened to them.

The animals pictured below raped Christopher Newsom, cut off his penis, then set him on fire and fatally shot him several times while they forced his girlfriend, Channon Christian, to watch. An even more cruel fate awaited her!

Channon Christian, was beaten and gang-raped in many ways for four days by all of them, while they took turns urinating on her. Then they cut off her breast and put chemicals in her mouth … and then murdered her.

It would seem that the complicit media outlets, who have taken more time to bury this story than the murderers did with their victims’ bodies, need to be interrogated about why they have intentionally stuffed the body of this horrific crime into their trash cans. (hat tip to Lee @ Digital Nicotine)

It should go without saying that there is a racial aspect to this case. The two victims were white and all five of the perpetrators named in the 46-count indictment, coincidentally, were black. But does this story not stand on the callous brutality of the murders alone?

Is race only important to talk about when a radio personality calls someone a name? Or when a strung-out, junkie stripper wants to play Je$$e Jack$on to the lily white lacrosse team?

The public has a right to know and it’s the court of public opinion where every single news outlet needs to be judged.

Multiple murders have been committed in a Dahmer-esque fashion. The male victim was raped, sexually mutilated, shot, and burned. The female victim was raped, brutalized with chemicals, and stuffed in a trash can. These people were no less human than Matthew Shepard, James Byrd, or the Rutgers basketball team – though you could not tell by their treatment from the old media.

I am absolutely ashamed to have just found out about this today. And the only thing worse than knowing the muted fates of Christopher Newsom and Channon Christian is that their murderer’s friends in the media will soon leap to their defense.

As we’ve seen with Mary Winkler murder case, it’s only a matter of liberal time before the gunshot slaying, drug-dealing, carjacking, anal-sodomizing, breast removing, conceivers of one of the most disturbing crimes ever to escape the bleary eye of the librarian are portrayed as meek, little lambs.

Put upon by abuse in their own past, probably at the hands of Whitey and His materialistic society that made them the way they are.

Wait! The way they aren’t – because they are innocent in the media until proven guilty. Just like the Duke Lacrosse team.

Speak of The Devil Update: Metropulse dances around the story. New working headline: “Two white kids murdered, poor black neighborhood hardest hit.”

Devil On The Details Update: 14 hours after initially reading this repulsive story and I can’t get it out of my head. I’ve poured through at least 40 blogs mentioning it and it’s like deja vu in the comments section of every one. Where is the media? Where is the media?

It’s a good question that demands an answer.

Identity Politics Waits For No Woman

How noble. The basketball dribbling Rosa Parks(es) of the Rutgers basketball team rose from the back of their racially aggrieved bus and walked off prior to meeting with former presidential hopeful Hillary Clinton.

Clinton had been scheduled to meet with Scarlet Knight coach C. Vivian Stringer and an assistant, and possibly some of the players, Monday to talk with them about Don Imus’s “nappy-headed ho” comments.

But that sit-down was postponed due to weather and because the story seemed far less significant after the Virginia Tech killings.

Good thing “Selma” didn’t coincide with a rain event or we’d all still be sitting at segregated lunch counters.

All right you dead kids. Make way for the living. You’ve had your moment in the sun. Now it’s Hillary’s time to shine:

After meeting with Stringer Friday morning, Clinton addressed about 700 students and faculty on campus later in the day, praising the players and naming them one-by-one while criticizing “bigotry” against women. She never named Imus directly and made a point of saying her criticism wasn’t intended to curtail free speech.

She urged the crowd to take a “Rutgers pledge,” to say, “Enough is enough, when women or minorities or the powerless are marginalized or degraded.

Biting social commentary. As usual, Juanita Broderick and a host of other women sexually assaulted by Mrs. Clinton’s husband were not available for comment.

God Hates Slublog?

The hate-cultists of Westboro Baptist (originally typed “Batpist” by me. Freudian?) Church have found Slublog’s post and spammed him.

Here’s what earned their ire:

“WBC will preach at the funerals of the Virginia Tech students killed on campus during a shooting rampage April 16, 2007. You describe this as monumental horror, but you know nothing of horror — yet. Your bloody tyrant Bush says he is ‘horrified’ by it all. You know nothing of horror — yet. Your true horror is coming. ‘They shall also gird themselves with sackloth, and horror shall cover them; and shame shall be upon all faces, and baldness upon all their heads’ (Eze. 7:18).

Those words appear on a site I will not link – that of the Westboro “Baptist Church.” Fred Phelps and his band of haters are planning to disrupt the funerals of those murdered at Virginia Tech. (H/T: Ace)

Words are inadequate to describe the amount of contempt I feel toward Phelps and his clan. He and his disgusting followers are false prophets of the worst sort – they claim to speak for God, but only speak from their own diseased hearts.


BTW, take the God-talk out of Phelps and he sounds just like our very own J. Ryan. Ideological bunkmates.

This is the email of the spammer, BTW Do with it as you will. This may be your first, and God willing, last chance to interact with the Phelps Cult.