The Owlship is a powerful crimefighting juggernaut, as long as it doesn’t get moist.
Later, workers put one of those vinyl sports car bras over the front grille.
Posted by scott on March 2nd, 2009
MSNBC’s Chris Matthews once vented to Don Imus his cumulative frustration with presidents who own ranches, huffing: “I want a guy to run for President who doesn’t have a f**king — I’m sorry, a ranch. Wouldn’t that be good, Don, a guy who wasn’t on the ranch during Katrina, he was on the street corner answering questions?” To which Imus replied, “Why are you swearing?”To Matthews’ credit, virtually every modern president has laid claim to a ranch — even including the current guy who was on the street corner begging for “change.”
There was the Reagan Ranch in Santa Barbara, Bush’s Crawford Ranch in West Texas, and Barack Obama’s relatively new, more sprawling cattle ranch — most commonly referred to as the “mainstream media.”One would think Matthews’ irritations would have doubled rather than subsided — if only he weren’t himself one of the ranch hands delivering the Kool-Aid-flavored milk to a mouth-watered public via the airwaves of the establishment news media. Moreover, Obama’s ranch bears less resemblance to the aforementioned presidential ranches, and is more reminiscent of the Jonestown farm or the Spahn Movie Ranch.
In addition, the winged creatures of Obama’s farm are mostly tropical — bearing stark resemblance to the exotic parrot what with their impulsive, redundant utterances of rhetorical talking points that are conveniently proportionate to the standard 3.5′ x 11″ bumper sticker format.
It doesn’t matter that the recent incessant battle cries of the left the past few years (i.e. “Change,” “Hope,” “Progress,” “Bush Lied, People Died!”, “War for Oil,” etc.) were groundless, meaningless axioms tossed like breadcrumbs to a swarming, starving, pigeon-like public—
the fact that they were repeated ad nauseaum was enough to sustain merit. When it comes to liberal political rhetoric, repetition outrivals reality.
Contemporary liberals are not to be credited with the pioneering of this brilliant reductive propaganda tactic, but rather their ideological ancestors. Indeed, the Nazis were remarkably skillful in reinventing conventional wisdom to accommodate the national agenda; loudening and repeating the rhetorical drumbeat in fierce competition with the human cognitive receptivity span so as to leave zero leftover capacity therein for logical deductive evaluation.
Within eight years the liberal folk tales about how George W. Bush stole the 2000 election, used 9/11 as an excuse to hold the nation hostage and erect an imperialist, colonialist empire, et cetera, were so securely stapled in the common mind by the liberal noise machine that few had the energy to actually think for themselves.
Hegemonic liberal mythology has frighteningly become to America what Scientology is to Hollywood: So pervasively practiced and casually embraced that its practitioners never seem to work up the incentive to register that they are worshiping an alien galactic ruler named Xenu.
Were it not for the science fiction fantasy that’s been thrust upon us in the wake of Obama, George W. Bush would be written in history books as a hero who successfully spared his nation any sequels to 9/11, resurrected an image of national strength unseen since the Reagan years (systematically undone by Bill Clinton and usurped by an image of “paper tigers” — to quote Osama bin Laden’s description of Americans in 1993), and liberated Iraq from a mass-murdering, terrorist-funding serial rapist with a perennial grudge against our nation. But this is only if liberals weren’t the ones, well, writing the history books.
Indeed, it will be and has been the liberal revisionist machine that writes the history books, teaches the history classes, makes the “historical” movies and reports the news that any leader who candidly and unflinchingly recognizes the clear and present threats relevant to those given times are and were the black-hat-sporting cowboys on the dark horses of history.
Senator Joe McCarthy recognized the horrifically real Soviet spy infestation within the highest levels of American government and is now literally written in textbooks as a reckless drunk who ruined lives and destroyed reputations —
As in McCarthy’s day, using the term “communist,” “socialist,” or “Marxist” is pervasively ridiculed and dismissed as “extremist” and “antiquated” by the same people who casually employ terms like “racist,” “theocrat,” and “fascist” to describe Republicans.
When local WFTV Florida anchor Barbara West gave Joe Biden his first and only opportunity to explain to a perplexed public how Obama’s Marxist-Socialist tax plan was not reallya Marxist-Socialist tax plan (as opposed to posing questions like “How does it feel to know you are going to win this election?”), Biden laughed in her face for using the term “Marxist,” indignantly stormed off the set and subsequently sent a snobbish, cowardly letter to WFTV relieving them of their precious privileges to be graced with the Obama/Biden ticket’s presence. (WFTV should have responded by sending Biden a “Get Well Soon” card from Hallmark.)
While George W. Bush moved mountains to fulfill his 2000 campaign promises to “change the tone” in Washington amongst an obstinate liberal elite — liberals’ approach to “changing the tone” in Washington is amplifying their noise volume and dismissively muffling any audible dissent as inconvenient obstacles to “hope.”
But there is no hope for a nation that would be as fiendishly disrespectful to its leader for eight years during a time of war.
There is no hope for a people that would so nakedly and vulnerably throw themselves at a political candidacy such as Obama’s like an emotionally wounded, sexually frustrated harlot on the rebound spreading her knees for some seductive, womanizing prowler on a blind date.
To those who derisively snickered about Bush’s 2000 campaign promise to “change the tone” in Washington and to be a “uniter — not a divider”: I blame you.
Bush’s unappreciated across-the-aisle diplomacy the past eight years was met with zero cooperation on your part, but with a sinister urge to exploit his inalterable graciousness that became is ultimate weakness, so much so that by his second term he was literally issuing humiliating apologies to you people for “mistakes” such as hurting our terrorist enemies’ feelings by saying “bring ‘em on.” I blame you for tyrannically exploiting the kind, diplomatic nature of a strong, heroic leader by manipulatively coercing him into replacing his cowboy hat with a kitchen apron.
I blame the people who stubbornly refused to concede defeat in the 2000 election yet were jumping at the bit to concede defeat in Iraq within the first few weeks of the invasion; exhausting every resource available to undermine our troops’ morale and our commander-in-chief’s credibility during a time of war. […] But the instant a Republican entered office insisting that he was “tired of swatting flies” and pressed for a competent response to Iraq, liberals decided that was a no-no, and would do whatever they could to upstage his efforts; innocently and cluelessly asking: “What WMDs?”
Any “divisiveness” suffered by this country was liberals’ fault. Not Bush’s. But now that the media have made up their minds as to the “disgraced” mark Bush will have left on American history for standing up for us and keeping us safe for seven years following 9/11, the rest of us are left to wonder where the Uniting Savior Obama will leave his mark — on our right hands or our foreheads?
Evidently, some poor schmucks on the left have the sense of humor of a potato and believe I am a hypocrite because I am a fat old man who disses the personal appearance of some of the cast members. In fact, as regular readers know, my descriptions are so over the top that they become a parody of themselves – sort of like Larry Flynt describing the late Jerry Falwell but without the gross sexual and bathroom references (no doubt since I didn’t include any scatological humor, the brainless twits didn’t recognize it as parody.)
Back at FBI headquarters, Hillinger is getting too nosy for our own good. The very first hour of the show it appeared he was involved in the plot when Janis caught him fooling around with the server. His explanation seemed plausible and we have hardly given him a thought since then. But the revelation that he is playing around on his wife with Miss Anorexia and his curiosity about the CIP module not being a threat anymore has us thinking once again – is he or isn’t he? Janis is oblivious to the possibility of Sean being the mole but knows that he’s fooling around with Miss Eating Disorder. We’ll see how that plays out as Miss Binge and Purge may play a key role in exposing Hillinger if he is the main mole at the FBI.
The scene in Lafayette Park with the confrontation between Larry and Jack over torture is one of the reasons I love the show. The series has always made a genuine effort to present realistic arguements for and against Jack’s tactics. And Renee, in this case, can be an “everyperson” character who is torn between necessity and her own personal morals. It’s an old dramatic device going back to the Greeks but it still works when done well.
After handing over Gedge’s phone records, Larry is horrified to hear Jack ask about Vossler’s family. Bauer’s plan is to make Vossler think that they will hurt his family unless he tells them where Henry is. Jack makes it plain that he is disgusted with Larry for not seeing the truth – his truth – of the matter:Jack: When are you people going to stop thinking that they are playing by your rules. They’re not!He gives them a choice; either they can tell the president that their consciences wouldn’t allow them to rescue Henry or they will “do what is necessary” to get the job done. Reluctantly, Renee sees it Jack’s way but you can tell she is torn. She heads off to Vossler’s home where his wife and 11 month old child are about to receive a lesson in “asymetrical warfare” – Jack style.
In one of the most shocking cases of courtroom graft on record, two Pennsylvania judges have been charged with taking millions of dollars in kickbacks to send teenagers to two privately run youth detention centers.
[T]here is something extra special crummy about the performance of Jeanane Garofalo as FBI Agent Janis Gold. I mean really now, are we going to have to put up with Garafolo’s character much longer? Can’t one of Dubaku’s thugs break into FBI headquarters and put us all out of our misery by kidnapping her or simply accidentally discharging his weapon in her general direction? Perhaps my views are colored both by her execreable politics as well as a face even a Pizza Hut owner couldn’t love.
But every time she opens her mouth, I am pulled out of the show and realize that there are few actresses on planet earth who are so bad they actually make you wonder who they slept with to get the part. In Garofalo’s case, we should probably send a sympathy card to whoever that was.
As far as other actresses who should never have been let near a film camera, who could forget the all-time worst performance in movie history – any movie that featured Sharon Tate.
Tate had a rack that could drop a moose but that didn’t mean she could emote.
Valley of the Dolls – so campy a train wreck that it’s actually fun to watch – featured Miss Tate in various stages of undress that didn’t hide anything. Too bad they couldn’t have hid her inability to act from the world.
Then there was the statue-like performance of Sofia Coppola in Godfather Part III. No, not statuesque. For a woman to be described thusly, they should have some kind of shape. Unfortunately, Sofia’s rather lumpen body type didn’t cut it. Not even low cut dresses that managed successfully to take our attention away from her face (where her gigantic schnoz threatened to steal the scenes) could salvage what even Andy Garcia couldn’t accomplish; getting a wooden indian to talk back to you.
Finally, there was the performance by Jane Fonda in Barbarella.
Not a bad actress later in her career, her turn as the futurustic sex goddess was so lifeless you almost wanted to call 911 and have them shock some animation into her performance.
A truly classic bad movie in the most awful sense of the genre, the pre-Hanoi Fonda was in a couple of these sex clunkers that passed for soft porn back in the 1960’s. Then, of course, after her betrayal of our POW’s, Jane became a Hollywood star, worthy of Oscar consideration for her turn as a prostitute in Klute. Same Jane, same no-talent, except now she was taken seriously for her “courage” in “speaking out” against the Viet Nam war.
Don’t ya just love Hollywood?