W. once said that he could see into Vladimir Putin’s soul, but since Putin refused to bend over and cough in the face of the US missile defense, he has become a truly evil man. A man that does things that W. would never do, like win elections fairly. Putin is a man that Parade magazine listed as one of the ten worst dictators in the world! Now how could they make such a grievous error about a leader elected under internationally monitored elections?
Yesterday John McCain gave a speech concerning nuclear proliferation, God bless his pointed little head. The media reported that Sir John the dim was heckled, yes, heckled. A brief camera shot showed a man with an Iraq War Veterans For Peace banner being quickly bundled off by security. A heckler is a term used to describe the rude and disruptive, the disrespectful, the discourteous. A war protester is a person with moral standing, a person with a cause and on a mission.
An Iraq War Veteran For Peace is a person with experience in a war that prompts a desire to work for peace. The media will never refer to such a person as a hero or a protester, or even as a veteran, but just a heckler. For such people distort the media’s lexicon. The only persons in the room qualified to speak about the validity of the Iraq cause are the ones immediately silenced. Their visions of blood and dying distort the media’s moral pedestals of war and honor and glory.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
(Lewis Carrol)
Yesterday John McCain gave a speech concerning nuclear proliferation, God bless his pointed little head. The media reported that Sir John the dim was heckled, yes, heckled. A brief camera shot showed a man with an Iraq War Veterans For Peace banner being quickly bundled off by security. A heckler is a term used to describe the rude and disruptive, the disrespectful, the discourteous. A war protester is a person with moral standing, a person with a cause and on a mission.
An Iraq War Veteran For Peace is a person with experience in a war that prompts a desire to work for peace. The media will never refer to such a person as a hero or a protester, or even as a veteran, but just a heckler. For such people distort the media’s lexicon. The only persons in the room qualified to speak about the validity of the Iraq cause are the ones immediately silenced. Their visions of blood and dying distort the media’s moral pedestals of war and honor and glory.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
(Lewis Carrol)
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