Propaganda Posters Found Inside a Rabbit Warren

Timely and subtle commentary on the inaugural invocation. Extremely subtle; dare I say, inneffably subtle.

Erm, that is what you were going for, right?

In the rabbit commune:

“Tune in, turn on, hop out!”

“Warren peace!”

Rabbits, we’ve got rabbits (cotton tails) in great abundance down here on the edge of the Green Swamp, heart of the Floridan Aquifer, making them candidates for our alternative to armadillos, the Hoover hogs of that other Republican mindset economic meltdown.

Fortunately, we do now have enough of an armadillo population to allow us to indulge in both, along with rattlesnake filets and gator tail (the culinary implication, not the quest of the guys and lesbians at UF).

Dale, our rabbits are not as imaginative as yours, dammit, failing utterly their Southern obligation to the American literary tradition.

Oh, I see, this is like free-association humor. Jazz comedy - but with the tenor sax playing a little flat. I LIKE it!!!

A description of the Democratic Party leadership?

“[It’s] time for the human race to enter the solar system.”

Oh, sorry. We were talking about rabbits, weren’t we?

George, tell me ’bout the rabbits. The rabbits, George. I wanna hear about the rabbits.

E. Fudd, I think you said it best here (or hare):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJAXJWm8G4A&feature=PlayList&p=F7D1A2F0 CD0D166E&playnext=1&index=30

Congrats, David.

Linkmeister and David, my exit from Faulkner occurred with “The Sound and The Fury”. Something was much too dense, either the writing or me.

I confess, I still love Faulkner. And speaking of dense, my favorite Faulkner novel has to be Absolam, Absolam! … not because it’s great writing (it is), but because it has the two best lines ever written in the English language:

“Air you Miss Rosa Coldfield? Well than you had better come quick. Henry has done shot that durn French feller. Killt him dead as a beef.”

And:

“Jesus the South’s fine, ain’t it? Just like Ben Hur, ain’t it?”

I dunno, I just love that stuff. Sure beats the hell outa “My mother is a fish.”

Mr. Fowler, good to see you’re still alive. Don’t be such a stranger, you ol’ varmint.

SeattleDan, thankyouthankyou for the Elmer Fudd link. I haven’t laughed that hard in days.

David, the thing I really loved about Absalom, Absalom!, in particular, was the way Faulkner seemed to be saying that the further removed you are from the underlying events, the better you are able to understand them. Or, perhaps a better way to put it is, the further removed you are from the underlying events, the better you are able to tell the story. Hence, Shreve, the Canadian, is able to see the whole Thomas Sutpen/Rosa Coldfield/Jim Bond story as a Southern version of Ben Hur. Not literally, but you get the point.

Anyways, maybe that’s why Faulkner always appealed to a midwestern kid like me. ‘Cuz you don’t have to be from Yoknapatawpha County to get Yoknapatawpha County.

That said, I really got a kick out of the drunken, has-been Faulkner character in Barton Fink …

Dan, really. Not so much a way with words.

Anyway, a quick, yet thorough profile of another of Obama’s malignant ministers from our friends at Dickipedia. Warning, the picture the good Reverend is rather startling.

http://www.dickipedia.org/dick.php?title=Rick_Warren

IS THIS LAME DUCK SEASON OR RABBIT SEASON?

Pops hast written to me a letter proclaiming that the “coast is clear” and that I couldst safely return to Boston on the next frigate north from Charleston, South Carolina. “All the witch hunters hath gone west to practice their false religion; to the future location of Wasilla, Alaska”, wherever that mighst be.

However, I fancy not sailing to the New England in the dead of winter. Today in Charleston, the sun doth shine brightly and a warm wind doth bring the heavenly scent of the winter blooming jessamine flower to mine nose. And truth be told, the women here wear much less in the way of clothing, especially when they approacheth the sea. Mayhaps I shall stay on here a while longer. This bountiful region doth beg more investigation.

Echo above: Great Wait Wait…!

…And regarding that, I thought you might appreciate some more Morris Dancing! (They’re so not all chubby! Okay, maybe it’s dorky, but they have that festive Springtime zest. Like… well, like a warren full of rabbits, really. Just with more flowers and slightly less fur.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeMU3RGx6NM&feature=related

Yes, Cooper–I just lost a lot of my admiration for Monty Python’s genius. I bet there is a traditional Welsh parrot sketch too.

Yes, very enjoyable Wait Wait. I think the way to reinvigorate Morris Dancing for today’s youth is a simple two-stepper.

A. Set it in a large cage with audience all around.
B. Replace sticks with Samurai swords and incorporate actual strike/defend elements instead of just banging sticks.

Dale! While the Salmon-slapping dance is certainly an homage to Morris Dancing, as are, perhaps, some aspects of Gumby behavior, to attack MPFC is, well… you’re on dangerous ground here. That’s all I can say. Or rather, “Say no more. Nudge. Nudge.”

And this just in:

“I believe that it ought to be, you know, one person in the klieg lights at a time. I’ve had my time in the klieg lights.” — George Bush.

Is that all it was to him? His eight years of fame (8yrs.=15min. adjusted upwards for the wealthy and powerful.) I only read highlights of his press conference, so tell me–anyone who listened to it–was “Send In The Clowns” playing in the background?

I’d like to put forward a motion to make 2009 “kerfuffle” free. It’s a lovely, delicate word that requires limited usage. I hear it enough now over the air and in general conversation that I fear its delicacy is being fiddled with. Maybe 2012 could see a safe reemergence, but for now, could we let it go? It is good exercise for the brain to groom a few replacements. For me, I’m thinking “pie fight” for 2009.

I was out on the deck of our boat this morning, streaming the Diane Rhem Show on my laptop and I’ll be damned if that weenie Douglas Holtz-Eaken wasn’t on a panel of economists, which, BTW, also included Joseph Stiglitz (who thought those two would be an even match?) and Greg Ip. My guess is that Paul Krugman canceled at the last moment and our pal Dougie was in the next room emptying the trash cans (his newest career move, since the Palin/McCain ticket stepped off the cliff) so they brought him on to fill out the panel. He’s such a weenie. Oh, wait I mentioned that already, didn’t I?

Douglas was being his usual right winged, pain-in-the-ass self, spending his time at the microphone bloviating about how the stimulus package should come as a tax break to the people instead of a long list of government run projects. “If you give money to the schools, they won’t spend it on the students. They’ll give all of the professors a big raise and before you know it, the Profs will be driving around campus in brand new Jaguars.” Well, Diane called him on that (bless her!) and he hemmed, hawed and stammered for a while and then shut the Hell up for almost 5 minutes. The other economists jumped on him with both feet every time he came out with one of his “jewels”.

You know, life on a sail boat can certainly be idyllic, but I have to admit Marlene and I are both getting pretty bored. Lately she’s been talking about joining the Obama Administration in some capacity and doing something good with her life. Me? I’d like to tap into a huge chunk of that TARP money and, let’s face it, DC is the place to be when common graft is your life’s calling. I think I’ll have red hair this time, with a full beard and an eye patch. I’ll have to come up with a new name, of course. How about “Mickey”? That sounds harmless enough. And Marlene will have to put the “Felicity, the Iowa middle school special needs teacher” identity in the bag for a while. Anyway, we’ve weighed anchor and we are heading north as I write this. Ah, yes. Good fortune and heart pounding adventure lies ahead!

DvE! You know Bruce has a new one coming, don’t ya?

Chris - I heard that, too. I’m always ready for Bruce …

No, we’re losing our minds. The possibility exists that some subliminal connection exists between Rick Warren and Rabbit Warren, but otherwise we all just went cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Actually, it was Trix. Adam held out the box and we all grabbed handful after handful. Wuuuu-hoooooo.

Now we’re on to goats.