Although quick perusals of Facebook and Twitter make me wish it were so.
Man may be a social animal by nature, but that is only because communion with one's brethren offers the opportunity to steal from them. A man in a cave is merely a man in a cave. But a man in a community, why, he can rummage another man's cave. Mr. President.
Here endeth my obsequious reach around to the "undecided" voter. They call them "moderates" now. In a more martial era, when a person was afraid to put their politics, and feelings, and fists on the line, they were known as "quivering pussies." Not to be confused, of course, with quivering pussies. Ahem.
There is no more hemming and hawing, my fey little friends. You can remove your finger from your perplexed, pursed little lips. Dies will be cast. Yours among them. You can either cast yours for the Dark Lord Sauron, or for the nice little conservative hobbits. And, trust me, I understand your fear. Nice little hobbits win battles, but their shire is still scoured. Perhaps better not to have the IRS on one's ass. You know the quote: first they came for the Muslims, but I did nothing, because I wasn't beheading innocent people...
You can fill in the rest.
Anyway, I ain't dead. I'm just wearing Maria Bello's ridiculously ghastly Trilby hat from Prime Suspect, trying to locate Vanderleun.
Also: very few men can wear a Trilby. Sean Connery, and perhaps Christopher Plummer. The rest of us must wear pork pies. It is our station.
Posted by Velociman at July 16, 2012 10:57 PM