It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at
occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which
swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling
along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the
lamps that struggled against the darkness. Through one of the obscurest
quarters of London, and among haunts little loved by the gentlemen of the
police, a man, evidently of the lowest orders, was wending his solitary
way. He stopped twice or thrice at different shops and houses of a
description correspondent with the appearance of the quartier in which
they were situated, and tended inquiry for some article or another which
did not seem easily to be met with. All the answers he received were
couched in the negative; and as he turned from each door he muttered to
himself, in no very elegant phraseology, his disappointment and
discontent. At length, at one house, the landlord, a sturdy butcher,
after rendering the same reply the inquirer had hitherto received, added,
"But if this vill do as vell, Dummie, it is quite at your sarvice!"
Pausing reflectively for a moment, Dummie responded that he thought the
thing proffered might do as well; and thrusting it into his ample pocket,
he strode away with as rapid a motion as the wind and the rain would
allow. He soon came to a nest of low and dingy buildings, at the
entrance to which, in half-effaced characters, was written "Thames
Court." Halting at the most conspicuous of these buildings, an inn or
alehouse, through the half-closed windows of which blazed out in ruddy
comfort the beams of the hospitable hearth, he knocked hastily at the
door. He was admitted by a lady of a certain age, and endowed with a
comely rotundity of face and person.
"Hast got it, Dummie?" said she, quickly, as she closed the door on the
Hast and you don't sweat much for a fat girl. Sorry couldn't pass that one up.
Now here is Steven Webber, a self-absorbed Hollywood dabbler. Can't act; so he is a political activist. Now, he sure as hell can't write and so Arianna Huffington has him on the payroll shilling for Barack Obama.
Now get a load of this!
Change is seeping into our consciousnesses and Hope is entering our lives like amber rays dispelling the murk of a drugged sleep, the one which we endured so helplessly, so long.
The movement headed by Obama is becoming an unstoppable juggernaut, fueled not by his leadership alone but by the gathering momentum of those individuals who feel the totality of the movement's righteousness within them. Obama is the face of the movement; the people are the movement.
And while we are relishing our Obasm, we must nonetheless be aware of the opposing forces who peer jealously across the widening breach, who are becoming even more embittered, even more determined to prevent this movement from succeeding. Starting from its warped, hardened kernel of an ideology, the Bush/Neo-Con jihad on democracy has been nothing less than catastrophic, a global socio/geopolitical plague. And it's not just the obvious villains we have to be concerned about. There are the appeasers in our midst, the DINO's who continue to reward Bush's treachery with unimpeded funding for the disgrace of Iraq and immunity for his flouting of the law.
Likewise, there is a realistic understanding of Obama as politician. We know that he must do certain things in order to survive the caustic climate of government; that he must promise, cajole, threaten and perform, speak the lingua franca of American bureaucratic push me-pull me and that while his vision for America is virtually without fault, obviously he himself is not. But it is his humanity along with his and our acknowledgment of same which gives this movement any hope of success.
And although we have learned the hard way, having painfully witnessed BushCo's trampling of nations, with Obama we got damn lucky. And we'd better appreciate that lest this moment slip away and a long time passes before another one comes.
So it is now our duty as newly deputized agents of Change and Hope to protect this American movement with the fierce devotion of parents who have recovered their kidnapped child. The boogeymen had their way and now it's time to let them know unequivocally that it will not happen again.
It's good to be awake again.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. . . . . (Hhuchitneck,Huhngh)ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ . . . . I SENT THE CHECK LAST WEEK!!!! (Snecuchnech) ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. . . . huh?
Oh, my apologies. Steven Change seeping ( Call Perma Seal! Stop that seepage); unstoppable juggernaut ( Why have stoppable juggernauts at all, unless you are the Italian Navy?)Webber
Try this sominex:
And there is our own knee-jerk cowering in the face of an enemy openly courted, recklessly wielded and described as impregnable by Bush et al.: Fear. Knowing we would forever shudder and weep at the images branded into our brains, Fear is probably the most brutally effective weapon BushCo had -- has -- in its arsenal and is used with the same alacrity with which Saddam used poison gas on the Kurds.
or this purple pumpkin of poser prosing!
So it is now our duty as newly deputized agents of Change and Hope to protect this American movement with the fierce devotion of parents who have recovered their kidnapped child.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz The KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????????
I left them at the Poetry Slam!!!!!!!!!! Damn George Bush!!!!!!! Damn America! You sleeping Idiots! Steven write as much as you can, Dude! Write as Much as your heart will Hold!!!!!!!
Nectht we Thall tear Thteven on the Air-Wavthes of The POTuTH Channel on the Thatelite Network.
Thee You Then!