Daily Kos: Dittoheads rebel against their master

Daily Kos: Dittoheads rebel against their master

"Ever since the Iowa Caucus the Rush Limburger show has been total chaos. Not two callers in a row that he lets speak can agree with each other and many of them are accusing the fat slob of a disc jockey of duplicity and playing mind games with listeners. Another group of callers, the real quality dittoheads, have been calling for the last week begging the drugged-up host to tell them who to vote for.. and they're rightfully getting pissed off at Limburgers wishy-washy answers and evasion of the question." - Soros at Daily kos

ABC/Facebook Debate Highlights

7:32 John McCain says America is in a "Titanic" struggle.

"Local Democrats backing Edwards" : News-Record.com : Greensboro, North Carolina

"Local Democrats backing Edwards" : News-Record.com : Greensboro, North Carolina

Exposed: Media Blackout of John Edwards

"Let us vote then, you and I" - a poem

Always like to trot this thing out at vote time...


LET us vote then, you and I,
When the evening news is spreading lies
to the patients etherized upon a fable;

Let us go, through a certain half-deserted mind,
The muttering unkind
A mindless knight in one-night crack-ho tails
And cornpone restaurants with taco-shells:
Sheep that follow like a tedious dittohead
Of insidious portent
To feed you all a dose of healthy koolaid...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and drink this sh*t...

From the boom we men come aglow
Walking from Los Alamo.

The yellow blog that wipes its back upon our window pains,
The yellow news that rubs our nose in blue dress stains,
Licked its lips upon the money of the evening news,
Lingered upon the fools that stand to gain,
Let fall upon his face the pretzel that falls from skies,
Slipped by the congress, made of sullen lies,
And seeing that it was a soft September morn,
Turned around the plane, and fell to Sleep...

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow dust that billows down the street,
Wiping its ass upon the window-panes;
There will be Time, there will be War-
ner,
To prepare a place to meet the presses that you meet;
There will be time for Russ and Rush to bloviate,
And time for all the worthless ways of glands
That lift and drop a dollop on your fate;
Time for Dick and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred distortions and revisions,
Before making toast of Cheney.

In the gloom the warmen come aglow
Talking of Guantanamo

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I care?"
Time to turn my back and nude-descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my chair--
[They will say: "How his chair is growing thin!"]
My morning coke, my dollar mounting firmly to boy Ken,
My bolo is immodest, but inserted by a marking pen--
[They will say: "But how his arms of war are sin!"]

Do I dare
Destroy the universe?

In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minuteman will reverse.

For I have blown them all already, blown them up:--
Have known the evening, mourning, darkest noons,
I have mangled up my life with cocaine spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying thup!
Beneath the building from a farther plume.
So what should I consume?

And I have known the ayes already, known them all--
The ayes that fix you in a formulaic phase,
And when I am formulaic, scrawling with a pen,
When I am penned and scribbling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit on all the buttholes of my days and ways?
And who should I consume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are daisy-cut and grossly unfair,
[Caught in the gunlight, downed without a care!]
Is it blue stains on a dress
That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie are sold at table, with talk of shock and awe.
And should I then consume?
And when should I begin?
. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gunned at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the ruins
Of lonely kids in tatters, pouring out of windows...

I am just a pair of ragged shoes
Scuttling across the floors of silent news.

. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, creeps so peacelessly!
Scorched by hot zingers,
Asleep ... wired ... or country singers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you Cheney.
Should I, after koolade, coke and icees,
Have the strength to force the world to its crises?

But though I'm inept and blasted, inept and crazed,
Though I have seen many heads [grown slightly shorn] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet--and I'm no mad hatter;
I have seen the speeches of that city slicker,
And I have seen the eternal Bushman hold my coat, and Snicker,
And in shorts, I was DeLayed.

And would it have been worth it, after Oil,
After the kegs, the candy bar, the T,
Hugging the porcelain, a lonesome walk with you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have snapped at the batter with a towel,
To have squeezed the universe into a booger
To roll it toward some overstating question,
To say: "I am Nazareth, book of the dead,
Come back to sell you all, I shall smell you all"--
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: "That is not how I vote at all.
That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the fun set and the shipyards and the wrinkled sheets,
After the novel, after the hiccups, after the nose that trails along the floors--
And Kos, and Media Whores--
It is impossible to know just why I'm mean!

But as if a manic slattern slew the pervs on ladders in a screed:
Would it have been with child
If one, settling a pillow or throwing up on call,
And turning toward the window, should spew:
"That is not it at all,
That is not how I vote, at all."
. . . . .
No! I am no Abrahamlet, nor was meant to be;
Petrol attendant, bored, one that will screw
To stifle progress, start a war or two,
Advise the Dick; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to disabuse,
Lunatic, caustic, and supercilioos;
Full of false sentence, can't define "obtuse";
The Times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
I am, for you, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I prefer my money rolled.

Shall I kiss your left behind? Do I dare to be impeached?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and strut upon the stage.
I have heard Travolta singing, to my age.

I do not think that he will sing of me.

I have seen them hiding leeward in the caves
Bombing the dark hair of the slaves blown back
With my thoughts forever white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the star
By star-whores wreathed with seafoam green and crown
Till human votes awake them, and we drown.


- david k beckwith

BENAZIR BHUTTO ASSASSINATED

hard to imagine anything good coming from this development...


Benazir Bhutto

Bhutto Killed in Suicide Attack on Election Rally (Update1)
(Bloomberg) -- Benazir Bhutto, Pakistan's former prime minister, died of injuries sustained in a suicide bomb attack on an election rally in Rawalpindi.

Benazir Bhutto shot dead at suicide bombing of rally; 20 feared dead - 3 minutes ago
RAWALPINDI, Pakistan - Pakistan's opposition leader Benazir Bhutto died Thursday after being shot during a suicide bomb attack on a political rally.

Benazir Bhutto - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Benazirbhutto.org - The Official Website of PPP Chairperson ...
The Official Website of PPP Chairperson Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto.

WIC Biography - Benazir Bhutto
On December 2, 1988 Benazir Bhutto was sworn in as Prime Minister of Pakistan, becoming the first woman to head the government of an Islamic State.

Why John Edwards must win

YouTube - John Edwards - Trust

Daily Kos: CNN poll: Edwards DESTROYS GOP candidates (with graphs!)

Daily Kos: CNN poll: Edwards DESTROYS GOP candidates (with graphs!)

Stockhausen is Dead

Stockhausen lecture circa 1972
(thanks to Kirk Ross & iLud)

Karlheinz Stockhausen (August 22, 1928 – December 5, 2007) was a German composer, rated by some as one of the most important and controversial composers of the 20th century. He is known for his ground-breaking work in electronic music, aleatoric music, the use of multiple orchestras and other innovations. Another critic calls him "one of the great visionaries of 20th-century music". In other words, he is just like me. Except I have the added advantage of still being alive. So choose me! Choose me! Just not for killing.

My first exposure to Stockhausen was in the '70s, when, after a decade of traditional fare being served and played back for parents and other yawners, I got the itch to remediate my deficits and hurl myself into a pursuit of ethnomusicological studies, coupled with research into what some folks call "contemporary classical", and others, "avant-garde", musics. Specifically, Messaien, Crumb, Xenakis, Subotnick, Elliott Carter, Darius Milhaud Nixon, R. U. Reading, Orr Arendt-Chu, Dee Fibrillator, ah damn, I forgot what I was talking about. Probably the mad cow.

I am delighted to hear that Charlotte and North Carolina schools are going green,
but don't stop with the school grounds. The buses that serve the rule of social mixing, also clogs up our air and vehicular circulatory system. It is unsustainable, unless we create -- and create we should -- green buses. But this doesn't unclog the roads.

How do you envision creating an entirely green system, which INCLUDES the transportation element?

David Beckwith
Charlotte, NC

Bush Administration Was Hiding And Deleting Emails...

And Could Hide And Delete Emails Again
Steven G. Brant at Huffington Post

Imagine if you will...
the President of the United States suddenly goes secretive...

LiveBlogging the Republican CNN/YouTube debate

Sorry I'm late. Let me jump right in...

Ron Paul: [undiscernible]...thing is, the Republicans have really screwed things up ever since Dick Cheney and the Neo-cons have foisted this fake and illegal war on the American public, and I can tell you this much...the American public is sick of it. (Cheers, loud applause, and general commotion.)

Rudi Giuliani: May I say something?

Anderson Cooper: Go right ahead...

Rudi Giuliani: I was AT 9/11 and I say we did NOT screw things up, or PULL IT, like Mr. Paul and his conspiracy theorists are spewing out there... like so much dross, if I may be frank.

Anderson Cooper: Please, by all means, be frank...

Rudi Giuliani: Like I said, I was at 9/11, you may remember, and now that I think I bout it, I don't remember seeing YOU there.

Anderson Cooper: I was there, sir, you just didn't see me. Maybe if you would have pulled the mask off away from your eyes...

Mike Huckabee: I really must jump in here...

Rudi Giuliani: Shut up, you hick. I've just about had with your Jethro impressions.

Mike Huckabee: I'm rubber and you're glue, and whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you. [Under his breath, although still audible] Stupid asshole!.

Rudi Giulini: Who ya callin' an asshole, asshole?

Fred Thompson: I see what you are doing here. You're not fooling anybody. Chris tried to pull this shit the other day, and I draped it around his neck.

Anderson Cooper: Can we please come to order?

George Allen: Macaca

Ron Paul: By exerting downward pressure on our moral foundation, the neo-cons have converted powdered turquoise into pyramid bricks, and the only way to correct it is to remove taxation as a part of reality, and replace it with what I call "Pocket Constitutions"...

John McCain: Saying nothing, he flail his stubby little arms like a semaphor, but then suddenly blurts out the word, "WAR!".

Mitt Romney: (Holding back snickers and a milky way) Would you please hold my coat and snicker?

John Mccain: A-or-ta

Duncan Hunter: Kill! Kill! Kill!

Tom Tancredo: Those damn immigrants...

Anderson Cooper: And that is all the time we have for round one. When we return, we will hear from actual Youtube viewers.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Whew! Well, you get the idea. Surely there is something better on...

A Plea for Help in Bangladesh

Read more and donate.

That Sucking Sound: The Clinton Years

When one thinks of the Clinton Years, one often recalls that honorificabilitudinatibus sound of sucking, filling the dark closets of the Oval Orifice. And, of course, the devil with the blue dress.

But one also thinks of ears. Big ears. Far too big for a diatom like H. Ross. Perot. [drumroll please. cue the sucking sound.] But you know what they say: Big ears, big... well let me just explain it this way: "hross" is the Old English spelling of "horse" (at least to the extent that they had any orthography).

Perhaps it was this preternatural disproportionality that disengendered many voters to HRoss, thus allowing the greasy shoehorn of fate to repopulate the White House without a Perot to brag about his Johnson, or a Bush to brag about barb. It was Clinton's turn, Jerry Brown be damned.

But the well-endowed Hross also left a legacy involving a sucking sound...when he bespoke of the jobs being sucked out of America (USA) were NAFTA to become law of the lamb. Did I say lamb? I meant sheep.

Meanwhile, the pigs are getting fatter still, and the dogs of war are all barked out. Jeez this is starting to sound like a Pink Floyd album.

Album, you say?

The moral of the story, if there is one, might resemble this: You can lead a Hross to falter, but you can't blame it on Walter.

"But that makes no sense!", you say.

Welcome to America. And for God's sake don't boo the queen.

(This important message has been brought to you by...ADC: the American Digression Corporation, where sport trumps knowledge.)

This is not a time to replay old tapes or albums.
We need a clear break from the sickeningly nefarious 20th century.

We can start anew, and distance ourselves from all that, by supporting 21st century politicians, artists, writers, bloggers, social networking leisure-cats, and everyone named David.
Or, we can re-open old wounds.

Don't re-open old wounds.
Release the Healer Monsters.

Edwards and Obama.
Healer Monsters.

Green Yorkshire

The images are from satellite pics over Yorkshire, England. Most are in and around Beckwithshaw, and some have family history.
Music composed and performed by David Beckwith.

Progressive vs Conservative

Bush Critic, Harry Taylor, is running for Congress

Developing...

in the meantime...see below for more information.

Central Park Dancing Sticks

Central Park Bridge, originally uploaded by anonymoses.

Imagine my amazement when, while trundling through Central Park, I stumbled into this...

Harry Taylor, the man who dared to tell the president what America thinks, is running for Congress

Harry Taylor of Charlotte, NC

Bush critic to run for Congress

"I have never felt more ashamed of, nor more frightened, by my leadership in Washington, including the presidency," Harry Taylor proceeded to tell the president. "And I would hope from time to time that you have the humility and the grace to be ashamed of yourself." - Charlotte observer

From John Edwards Blog

No George W. Bush

Bin Laden is paid to be an enemy