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to read this.
More insight on Oboob's cabinet appointees.
Just do it- you'll be glad you did.
has some interesting insight.
"Obama- King of Fools"
(& it doesn't say much for the rest of our countrymen either...)
Check it out here.
These fools haven’t checked the calendar recently.
I think the big one will look fine on the table next Thursday.
THE CAUSE (1918)
By Paul Scott Mowrer
Poet laureate of New HampshireLet but the cause seem beautiful, dear God,If we must die. Make us believe, in truth,For all mankind we thus forswear our youth,To stay till end of time the oppressor's rod;That but for us, harsh power would ride rough-shodThrough freedom's delicate gardens, and the toothOf hatred rend our people without ruth;So might we sleep contented, under the sod.For else, who knows what gladness here on earthWas destined us, what nobly high employ?Oh, hard it is that youth should cease to be!For now came love, with a great glad rebirthTo company our way, and now came joy!Not death we fear, but death's futility.Thank you to all veterans, past & present, who have sacrificed their time and lives to maintain our freedom.God Bless America & Those that Keep Her.
Go see how it was for the Brits
Thanks again, vets.
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W.B. Yeats- 1919
Where, exactly, is this "office" defined?Or, are they just making things up as they go along?We are in for a wild ride on H.M.S. Change…
OK, I was wrong & I suck.
Sorry...
Please go check out this post at Hot Air.
Many of the comments are spot on; give it a read.
UPDATE: And this at Ace