The Left Column

Politics for Poets

What a week of news!

Shameless people will say anything. What might they do to you and me if they get the taste of blood. The breed that likes to bight down and hear a neck snap . . . doesn't always give an indication of when they will start their coordinated barbarity. They have their lists ready. Are you on the list?

"But he loves me. Boo hoo hoo. He told me so himself. Boo hoo hoo. Well, if only in a dream. Boo hoo hoo. And now I have to walk all the way to the screy building and go inside of it for a shake down.

"If you have the fear in you, Mr. Franz, then can't you understand that I have the fear in me too? Don't you see that I don't want to have to have to have . . . to do my disk-head dasterdlies,"

But Mrs. Flaven-toes was having none of it. She'd already been to Prauge, in the 1960's, and she wasn't living through it again. She took her wisk broom, a kind that would be found if you had a time machine and could go back 100 years, in her little valley town, a beautiful Sunday morning, the bells ringing out the joy of life. Ah, the naivette of a country girl from rural Chech vallies.

Mr. Franz directed his truth rays right at Mr. Fussitolddja(ski), "You marxist from the 'puke-ya, Stands for puke ya, ya, blighter toldja. Yes, it doesn't make sense, but in a Kafka esc novel is it supposed to? I always thought that, well not always, you know, because you can change your mind. You can. You can do the right thing. I am not pleading with you to do it. You're a class of person perhaps who is all about the expediouscy of being part of the nepotocracy of hidden-leftist-posers. They are not really socialist, nor are they marxist, nor are they even Democrats. They are merely commonthred, course and gawdless hordes from the great ancient corruption. They are that breed, the breed that drove the old world slaveshops and tried toooimport them here. And when all debts, having been paid, oh what joyous jubellee!, they imagine new ones, demand new indeptedness, to pay for all of the new citizens. Oh, ya, baby, I really understand something here."

"I assure you you know nothing of truth in light of the darkness that you express."

"Oh, you really are the son of liars, and the father of male-protestutes." raved Mr. Franz, at which point Fusserrtellya_butthe-won'tdoashesayshimmself lunged at Mr. Franz. Digger dave was eating a hot dog. A seemingly unimportant point.

One of the kids at the campfire was drinking a cold soda and someone came in and said that there wasn't anymore and who took the last one so the little girl was really frightened and she ran off into the forest which is scarey there, at that high altitude. There are ledges that end at falls that go down thousands of yards at least. And the screech owl call cuts the night in half. A little girl might get confused very easily so the old mother was upset and mad at her daughter who let the oldmother's grand daughter go wondering off and it was late but the night was warm

That ended the night of story telling. Eveyone went into their tents and had wonderful dreams about properity and social justice.

And no one was ever targetted for their political views and people weren't subjected to needless buerocracy and people spoke truth to their bosses and no one pleads anything.

It was later. The little girl was back safely in her tent. The storyteller lay awake thinking about politics and government. He kept expecting to hear another screech owl. But he fell asleep without hearing it.

If you can't answer honestly

why would anyone answer you honestly

Forms should not be used for incrimination of the form-filler-outer.

May 14, 2013 (4-14-2013)

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

content goes stale and making it spin just makes it suck even more if it really does suck. If the content is anygood unless the spining has some function it might become quickly tiring.

~ OK Now.

Banish Nonsense was his scree. I'd have to delete this whole website!

There are new features here that are annoying at times but fun in some ways. This page is best viewed with firefox. Chrome doesn't seem to pick up all the rocking. This is very cool: angle spin gauge or John Barents Carousel. Because this page is rocking. Rocking rocking rocking. What it is, he said, what it is. The problem is, what it is. Span Rocker.Paper Sizes. envelope sizes. Look at this sample page and have some fun with it.

  

Weenies.
Weenies
 Weeenies
taking
  eery right off
     every credit
     but take no
          responsibility

Do you know if you are free?

 Do you think you're scaring me?
  
   Do you understand 
          the possiblity
      if you were not
             a
      Weenie
    Weenie
            Weenie's
       on patrol

 neer pay the toll
     pay what you are 
           ole
       say you're on
               the dole.

    Take every credit
        Take eery right off
          take no responsibility . . .
  They take no care for you or me
       They have no place in my
         serenity
     serenity
          surrender to me.

   If you're a
       Weenie
       surrender and be free.
 
  Praise God!
  








Wake up!



"Apple Dappery? What the . . . does that mean?"