“Opening minds and angravating liberals since 2001”
“I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of life.”
My Friends and Fellow Sports Fans:
Space…. The final frontier!
Wait, that is not what I wanted to say.
Space… wow, it is one of those words that has so many meanings as to be meaningless. (And stop thinking ahead. You are most likely correct, but then you wouldn’t need me.)
Not so sure why that came to mind, and I am not a Trekie or the like but I guess in my tiny, little, confused and improperly wired brain, that word, in some of its various definitions, seemed to sum up the clusterfluke which is Syria.
(SIDEBAR: I am of the, possibly misguided, belief that this will be the defining moment of the Biff Reign. But it may be an all-or-nothing result. Depending on how this plays out, if Biff comes out on top, God Forbid, he will have even more delusions of adequacy. However, ought he to come out on the short side, not only will the bloom be off this particular rose but that will give his opposites the chink in the armor they are looking for to go after all the other scandals. I am still not convinced that this is not a charade.)
You see “space” can mean an emptiness, much like what is in the collective heads our chaps screwing this particular pooch.
It can mean a period of time, as in the space of time it took for our keeping our noses clear of Syria until Biff was repeatedly embarrassed by Vlad.
It can also mean a blank area, akin the piece of paper which contains our entry and exit plan if we invade Syria.
It also could mean the ability to express themselves, much like WTLF expresses yet more incredulity every time that bridle-less mouth opens.
Conversely space could infer some private time, as I am sure Biff and McMensa are having while trying to extricate themselves from this mess.
So, my grasshoppers, this word can have myriad meanings and much like a certain bad word, it promotes many different views and opinions.
Now, as we all know I love sports. Virtually any sporting event from “Rollerball“ tiddly-winks will get my attention. Well, everything but the NBA.
While I am not the biggest tennis fan, I do watch from time to time, especially the Grand Slam tourneys.
And this “crisis”, be it real or contrived, in Syria is similar to tennis as viewed from the sidelines, head snapping left then further left as we are told:
The rebels have chemical weapons, snap…
Assad has chemical weapons, snap…
We are going to attack Syria, snap…
We are not going to attack Syria, snap…
We are going to attack Syria but it will be incredibly small, snap…
Vlad says we can’t attack, snap…
I need to check with Congress before I can attack, snap…
I don’ need no stinking’ Congressional approval, snap…
Vlad says we can’t attack, snap…
We need to see the CW, snap….
Russia is going to get to control the CW, snap…
…And “Operation Enduring Clusterfluke” continues.
YET, and I was beyond belief upon hearing this, despite his having an idjit for a Number Two who makes his Sec State look downright capable (if you believe in Santa Claus), this jerk of no trades has been routinely and serial pantsed by Vlad and still he gave a number of interviews that had me scratching my head.
“Well, we have them just where we want them. Yes, it took fifty-nine minutes and we are on our own three-yard line down 57-3 but NOW we can work our magic! Watch this!”
At least in baseball you can down three games to none, have two outs in the ninth inning, down to your last freaking strike and get a hit, then win the game and beat the Yankees the next three games to take the AL title. Well, as much as I hate to say it, but while the hated Sawx DID actually do that to my Yankees, Biff would have looked at strike three then would have taken credit for striking himself out.
And that is pretty much what the most hated person in the world did this weekend.
He is taking credit for being a coward, for being indecisive, for equivocating, for minimizing Vlad’s efforts and for saying that he has Asswad just where he wants him. (Biff will tell us just where that is sometime in the future.)
Truly, I am so tired of this skinny-mussolini with his political glass jaw jutting out as if to say “I dare you!” If you did, he’d run away then hide behind the skirt of the SRM and say what a bad person you are.
Again, the more he postures, the more he telegraphs his next move, the weaker he becomes.
And even street-wise community activist would not do that.
So, what is his agenda? What is he cooking up that he is willing to be made a global laughingstock?
It will not be good for us if that is the case.
All for now. It is time to pray for the souls of those who were murdered this morning at the Navy Yard this morning.
“Ut animas omnium fidelium defunctorum animas requiescant in pace Amen.” (It has been a while… if you know the correct translation, please advise. George? Farmer Mike? Any of my priest, deacon or seminarian friends?)