[ "gave us WW II" ?!?! ] First Doug channels Bob Dole, doing the "Democrat wars" rap.
Then . . .
<<from Sam Smith's Progressive Review:
>BALKAN STATS I
>
>FROM A COLUMN BY TONY SNOW: . . .
> As it turns out, Kosovo has been about as bloody this year as, say,
Atlanta. You can measure the deaths not in the hundreds, but dozens. (I'm
not trying to deny Milosevic's brutality here . . .
. . . Doug channels Tony Snow, who wouldn't know a fact if it jumped into his pants and burrowed up his ass, and over whom I would choose Slick Willy, cigars, cruise missiles, and all, any day of the week . . . Meanwhile Carrol muses that the GOP would be better for the country than the Dems, though, uncharacteristically, he is making a funny.
Tommorrow I will be holding an exorcism to try to purge the GOP spirits from this list. If I can't find the head of a toad, I'll go looking for Tony Snow.
As for Atlanta, one thing you can say for it is that its residents have not been driven into the Everglades, or, God help them, forced to depend on the U.S. left for succor.
Finally, for a bedtime prayer, here's a little something from tonight's Seder program from my friend's ma:
Never say this is the final road for you, Though leadened skies may cover over days of blue. As the hour that we longed for is so near, Our step beats out the message -- we are here!
>From lands so green with palms to lands all white with snow,
We shall be coming with our anguish and our woe,
And where a spurt of our blood fell on the earth
There our courage and our spirit have rebirth.
The early morning sun will brighten our day And yesterday with our foe will fade away But if the sun delays and in the east remains This song as password generations must maintain.
This song was written with our blood and not with lead It's not a little tune that birds sing overhead This song a people sang amid collapsing walls, With grenades in hands they heeded to the call.
Therefore never say the road now ends for you though leadened skies may cover over days of blue, As the hour that we longed for is so near-- Our steps beats out the message--we are here!
[Hymm of the Partisans, Warsaw Ghetto. Yiddish translation available by fax upon request.]
mbs