A Gilt-Edged Conservative

I couldn't stop laughing. Palin, the "hockey mom" is wheeled in. A gilt-edged conservative. Meaning? Five children. Meaning? Roll up your sleeves and get up of your ass. The old tired "debates": God, gays and guns. I don't know, I'm terrified by such desperate housewives. I'm surprised they even had any women in Alaska! More Little-House-on-the Prairie 'politics'...if that's the right word, I'm afraid.



In the meantime, Mini-me is beginning to grate on my nerves: drum roll..."the next American Vice-President..." . Well, steady on old boy, you haven't actually won the elections. But the frisson of excitement that rippled through the mob was tangible. How the mob love the thought of power. Like the journalist lackeys that instead of doing their job by questioning power become love-struck, smitten, when Walker calls them by their first name.



Here, the 'chor' of chors makes his way up the ladder as the flames continue to burn and the 'Pakistani Taliban' goes on its merry way of blowing up schools for girls. What charmers! Of course, one won't hear any of the beards here say a word. One of them told me the other day: "we're really Sufis". I nearly fell off my chair. Ha! I'd always thought you to be a sick perverted bastard. How wrong I was!

Things are going to slide here, slide in all directions.

'It was an act of spiritual gratitude to save what could be saved. For properties of such value, the essential is to protect them during the critical days.'
---Ernst Jünger