Oh the coconut telegraph sounds like ten thousand Taiko drums at a Guinness world record event. We haven’t seen this since the build up to the Iraq War and the intel is more of the same. We’ve got a dead philosophy student- no doubt shot dead by the guys in Arab suits from Basra- and she’s making Rachel Corrie look like an extra in the Paris Hilton sex video; lets have another close up of the blood on the sidewalk. We’ll be tweeting in color all day long and Brit Hume is going to tell you in between dry martinis what nasty thugs those Iranians are. Lawyers are jumping out of toilet bowls around the world to sue for the psychological damage of all those guns fired into the air to scare the protestors off of the streets in
Bennie Netanyahoo is going berserk about the carnage in
How many cluster bombs have the Iranians dropped? How much white phosphorus has been fired into the crowds? How many children have been shot down in the streets? The Iranian forces have been restrained in a remarkable way. I don’t have to tell you any of this. You know and they know.
It’s all right here. You don’t need any more than this. It can’t be argued with. Everything
I keep coming back to
The Howdy Doody president says nothing about
No more need be said. No more need be said but I will say more. In this hour when the very worst in humanity is paraded as virtue in defiance of all of the evidence to the contrary, no more need be said.
I don’t know what else to say. I have run out of anymore that I can say. For the first time since I have been doing this I have to stop halfway through the usual length and end it here because there is nothing more to say… nothing at all.