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January 03, 2005


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I think we need to use enema bags with jolly rogers on them as our ensign, Tutor. The stars and stripes has gotten old and tired.

This whole conversation is in deplorable taste. Let's give our betters the benefit of the doubt, Harry. The election has left us a divided nation. We who are better bred will not wrinkle our noses at the fetid stench. (I will not say of what, some rotten thing, or worse, a backed up drain, a dead bird in the attic?) Good manners demand that we not mention the unmentionable. Bad things happen in war, as Rumsfeld observed. And it is best to leave such things in the hands of the proper authorities. On the whole life is good. Market is up. Taxes down. My expertise in 18th century sermons is finally being recognized, and I look forward to leaving my entire collection as a lasting legacy to the Beinnecke library at Yale in honor of Mummy. Must scoot. More anon!

Don't get your bowels knotted over this, Dick. Cretins like Rumsfeld have to work overtime to undo the good work and genuine good will of the other 98% of humanity.

Good work, Dick. Bad things happen to Good Wars: call it the Sot-Weed Factor.

Harry, history is the shadow great men and women. The rest are forgotten. Guess which category you are in? The strong prevail because they have the cunning and the courage to do what the weak do not. Your worldview has perished. You have outlived your time. History has spoken. Your cries are those the broken man beneath chariot wheels of American Greatness.

It's funny that you mention chariot wheels, Candidia. I make a nice piece of change driving for the Christian limousine service on weekends. Al has a good heart. When the Kerry people had me shitcanned from a paid gig getting voters to register, Al was ready to help me out.

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