14-03-2010, 07:19 AM
An exercise in deep political analysis:
Place the palms of your hands together in a gesture of prayer.
Spread your hands until they are six inches apart.
Your left hand represents progressives/liberals/Democrats. Your right hand represents conservatives/Republicans.
The space between your hands represents the distance between the polar extremes of American mainstream politics.
Now extend one of your hands to its arm's length.
This space between your hands now represents the full political spectrum.
It's all a fictive construct ... professional wrestling, pure and extremely simple.
The Olbermann v. O'Reilly choice is a choice between traps. The game is to preserve the illusion of choice ... the illusion of honest differences of opinion and philosophy.
The only sane, moral choice for us is to reject all of these poseurs and their true masters.
Poor Keith and his Murrow musings ... Goebbels-esque eloquence.
As for the cowardly, sacreligulous, rabidly materialistic Mr. Maher, I offer the following insight:
Every time you open your mouth, Lenny and George puke in their graves.
And for the love of the fashion god, loose the sharkskin, baby.
Place the palms of your hands together in a gesture of prayer.
Spread your hands until they are six inches apart.
Your left hand represents progressives/liberals/Democrats. Your right hand represents conservatives/Republicans.
The space between your hands represents the distance between the polar extremes of American mainstream politics.
Now extend one of your hands to its arm's length.
This space between your hands now represents the full political spectrum.
It's all a fictive construct ... professional wrestling, pure and extremely simple.
The Olbermann v. O'Reilly choice is a choice between traps. The game is to preserve the illusion of choice ... the illusion of honest differences of opinion and philosophy.
The only sane, moral choice for us is to reject all of these poseurs and their true masters.
Poor Keith and his Murrow musings ... Goebbels-esque eloquence.
As for the cowardly, sacreligulous, rabidly materialistic Mr. Maher, I offer the following insight:
Every time you open your mouth, Lenny and George puke in their graves.
And for the love of the fashion god, loose the sharkskin, baby.