Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader doesn’t know why, but he hasn’t felt the impulse to blog much. So rather than bore you all with a link dump, or some sort of turgid prose exposition on some such thing, he decided to wait until something got him off his arse and in front of the ubercomputer.
Well… Nothing has really motivated him, but he is blogging anyway. Without further adieu…
Before you do anything else, please go and read Rusty Shackleford’s exposition on the oft cited, but little understood claim put forth by the Democrats of 1.9 million unemployed. It is well worth your time and trouble. Your Maximum Leader will understand you leaving for a time to read the post. Don’t worry, your Maximum Leader will wait for you.
There. Feel enlightened? You ought to.
Now, on to Convention stuff. Your Maximum Leader would like a great dark chasm to open in the earth and to have James Earl Carter to fall into it. For many years (the Reagan years in fact) your Maximum Leader thought that Carter was a great ex-president. Working on all those houses, teaching sunday school. Then he decided to get back into foreign affairs. That is where he lost your Maximum Leader. Around the time of Bush I, your Maximum Leader then determined that the best thing for an ex-president to do was to quickly exire after his term of office. Less cost to the taxpayer, and more chance for history to start working on him.
William Jefferson Clinton is a master. He can really talk. Your know, your Maximum Leader would like to meet him and have a beer with him and chat about policy wonky things. Your Maximum Leader was impressed that he was so effective in attacking Republicans, without being mean-spirited or letting the crowd get out of control.
Teresa Heinz Kerry was boooooorrrrriiiinnnngggg. Your Maximum Leader made himself a pot of tea to counteract the heavy doses of scotch whisky he was taking before and during that speech.
(NB: Your Maximum Leader has found that when watching large gatherings of Democrats it is best to self-medicate with large doses - unblemished by water or ice - of the “water of life.” Scotch soothes your Maximum Leader during the speeches and keeps him from exclaiming things that the Villainettes shouldn’t hear coming from their dear father. It also prevents your Maximum Leader from pulling “an Elvis” and getting one of his guns and shooting his television.)
Oh… yes… Teresa. She was utterly forgettable. Your Maximum Leader doesn’t think she is a classy person. But frankly, he doesn’t care either and she will have no impact on his vote. And shouldn’t really impact anyone’s vote. If, while you are trying to decide to whom to give your one and only franchise, serious consideration is given to the candidate’s wife, you ought to be dragged out and shot. Indeed, in the MWO candidate’s spouses will be figures standing on a stage; and never uttering a sound.
Howard Dean. Can’t remember a damned thing he said. Must have been the scotch.
John Edwards… If your Maximum Leader has to listen to him say how he is going to give us back our “hope;” your Maximum Leader will fly into a murderous rage and slay many a beast and man without cause.
No. Your Maximum Leader shouldn’t take out his rage on the innocent. He should, instead, attempt to strangle Edwards’ speechwriters with the Codpiece of Eternal Glory.
Al Sharpton. Ohhhhhh… Finally. A Democrat who isn’t afraid of being a Democrat. After listening to the Reverend’s speech, your Maximum Leader stood up, poured himself four-fingers of Glenfiddich in his Edinburgh Crystal tumbler and toasted to a speech well-done and expertly delivered. Damn it. That is what these coventions are supposed to be all about. Pandering to your base. Giving them some red-meat. Motivating them to do their damnest for you. Not all this pussyified “we-have-to-appeal-to-the-soccer-mom-who-will-certainly-be-watching-our-convention-and-not-reading-to-their-kids” bullshit.
Al Sharpton! You are an evil, dangerous man. Your Maximum Leader salutes you! Huzzah!
And in all honesty, your Maximum Leader didn’t watch Kerry’s speech. He wanted to. But he had pressing family business to which he had to attend. Alas, your Maximum Leader will have to get the spin from the talking heads tomorrow.
To be fair, your Maximum Leader feels he now cannot watch Bush’s speech to the Republican Convention. Not that he planned to anyway, as your Maximum Leader makes it a point never to listen to the president speak. He is such a damnable speaker. Your Maximum Leader needs the scotch for him too.
In other convention related news…
Your Maximum Leader has learned that the Minister of Propaganda is in Boston attending the Kerry coronation. He hopes that the good Minister will choose to come back to the blog and tell of his travels and adventures. Your Maximum Leader would love to hear them.
Also, being a good Minister, the Minister of Propaganda has sent your Maximum Leader tribute from Boston. A Kerry Kit from MoveOn.org. He can hardly wait for it to arrive. According to the e-mail notification:
The kit shos a side of John Kerry you may never have seen before, using never-before-seen video, thoughtful articles, and more. The kit comes complete with a DVD featuring an exclusive 10-minute preview from the forthcoming documentary “Going Upriver: The Long War of John Kerry”. For more information go to http://kerrykit.com.
Your Maximum Leader is as giddy as a schoolgirl waiting for it.
Your Maximum Leader will also relate a quick story about a phone call he took Tuesday afternoon. A friend in Colorado called. She is a rabid Democrat, and great lover of Bill Clinton. She once described in lurid detail what all she would allow the former president to do to her if he asked… That aside. She called to ask if your Maximum Leader had seen Clinton. Then she went to town on how wonderful he was. Your Maximum Leader agreed that he was very good. Not Reagan-esque, but quite good. Certainly the best the Dems have had in many decades. Then she tore into her viseral hatred of George W. Bush. Your Maximum Leader listened to her for a good 15 minutes. Then he asked her if she now understood the viseral hatered of Bill Clinton by some conservatives; as she had used almost the same terms to describe Bush as many have used from the other side to describe Clinton. She stopped talking. Your Maximum Leader heard very heavy breathing on the other end of the line. Then she said that while I might think it is the same type of hatred, it wasn’t becasue Bush is evil; and Clinton only has a wandering penis. Heh.
In non-convention related news…
Have you been keeping up with Kilgore’s writing? Your Maximum Leader loved his post on the Bush twins. And he hopes that he one day gets to meet his appreciation group.
Where the hell is your Maximum Leader appreciation group? Damn you all. (But Kilgore remembered your Maximum Leader in prayer once - and that makes everything okay.)
The Poet Laureate is working. But has not yet posted photos of himself wearing the lab coat with all the sex toys. Chicken? Humm…
By the way. Read Skippy. Daily please. He doesn’t have good permalinks (ie: no permalinks) so your Maximum Leader can’t link to some of his recent posts. But let your Maximum Leader exhort you to read his recent political commentary. He is quite insightful. Also, your Maximum Leader liked reading about the photo requirements for strippers entering Canada. Your Maximum Leader, many moons ago, visited “gentleman’s clubs” in the Toronto area. My what fine specimens of humanity were to be found there!
Check out this quick post over at BRD’s site. Your Maximum Leader chanced to see Streep, Denzel Washington and Jonathan Demne (the director?) on the Today show. They were pratteling on about the Manchurian Candidate. The very fact that they were all convinced that corporate america was determined to undermine our nation was shocking to your Maximum Leader. Sad really.
And finally, Rachel reminds us of what is really important in life. It would be worth a trip to Hawaii to eat in one of Sakai’s restaurants. Remember your Maximum Leader’s official chef is Morimoto.
Minions, your Maximum Leader bids you,
Carry on.
