Big Bertha

Big Bertha
Circa 1940, on the streets of Rochester New York, Bertha does her work.
"I don't make hell for nobody. I'm only the instrument of a laughing providence. Sometimes I don't like it myself, but I couldn't help it if I was born smart."

1st Sgt. Milton Anthony Warden.
"From here to Eternity"

Paul Valery

"You are in love with intelligence, until it frightens you. For your ideas are terrifying and your hearts are faint. Your acts of pity and cruelty are absurd, committed with no calm, as if they were irresistible. Finally, you fear blood more and more. Blood and time."

The Wisdom of the Ages

"When a young man, I read somewhere the following: God the Almighty said, 'All that is too complex is unnecessary, and it is simple that is needed',"

Mikhail Kalashnikov
"Here lies the bravest soldier I've seen since my mirror got grease on it."

Zapp Brannigan

Saturday, April 30, 2011

May Day, Beltane, Stuffed Crotches, Stuffed Shirts and "Tubby Little Cubbies All Stuffed With Fluff"

Ahh, remember that day; eight years ago today, when our gallant leader "landed" on the deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln to comfort us with the fact that he pretty much considered the Iraq thing over.
And that he'd (Donald) trumped it.
What - a - guy!
Or as former Reagan speechwriter, Peggy Noonan would have put it: What a MAN!
You can't blame her for being twitterpated.
Check out our boy's "unit"!
Whoa! Little too much Kleenex, fellas. Subtlety is what we're after.
But it was effective.
The entire thing was obviously stage-managed from the beginning.
First of all, they had to turn the boat around before his speech because otherwise the city of San Diego would have provided the backdrop for what was supposed portray Georgie cruisin' the blue in the deepwater Navy.
Anyone want to ask a Republican what turning a carrier, at anchor, around cost the taxpayers?
He also told reporters that he'd flown it - the plane; here described by a report by CNN two days later:

"The exterior of the four-seat Navy S-3B Viking was marked with "Navy 1" in the back and "George W. Bush Commander-in-Chief" just below the cockpit window. On the plane's tail was the insignia of the squadron, the "Blue Wolves.""


Georgie, Rove or one of his minions was obviously too, too into "Independence Day", a disaster that Will Smith and Randy Quaid had the misfortune to be in the way of.
Of course, it's bullshit.
First of all, my Nav would never have let that incompetent fly an expensive piece of hardware.
The slow boy wasn't a pilot - or aviator as the Navy and Marine Corps legitimately call their guys who routinely land planes on the deck of a ship.
He had been a pilot but that was probably about the time that the actual aviator who flew the plane was born.
By all accounts, he was a good fighter pilot but he disgusted some of his colleagues in the Air Guard as most of them had volunteered for, and served, tours in Viet Nam.
They'd gotten combat cred as well as the feeling that they weren't complete shirkers.
The Pooh Bear didn't roll that way.
So no, Georgie didn't fly the plane.
Actually though, using the criteria developed at the Institute For Public Stupidity for what constitutes actually flying an aircraft he did - because one of the fellows at aforementioned think tank, one George Hill has "flown" all sorts of aircraft.
By which measure, I myself have "flown" a succession of 737's, a Super Stretch DC8, a C141, - twice, several ski-equipped C130's, often making ski landings, a 747, a Shit Hook, a Huey (See, I'm hip to the jive), a DC10, an Aeronca Champ, a Cessna 180 and some random, little-airline twin engine thing.
There are probably more that I'll remember later.
But what I'll always remember though is the flight from Christchurch NZ to McMurdo Station when we were making 350 knots against a 200 knot head wind.
I was just glad that I was "flying" the plane the way the Georges did - by sitting in the back.
We turned back, thanks to the sage advice of the E4 who was "flying" the plane.
I'm not going to tip my hand but lets just say that one of the Georges believed that the other George had actually flown (conventional interpretation) the plane.
Read his old stuff. it ain't The Onion but it is amusing.
Back to May Day.
Poor choice of dates for the Rovians to have picked - especially since they've had eight years worth of other days to sort through to find one that's less problematic.
May Day, aka "International Worker's Day", aka Beltane (It's pagan - don't approach without proper protection) has a long history of being... well... off - for a certain crowd.
Wife number two, an occasional Wiccan and now full-time lesbian said that to ensure good luck for the coming year the thing to do is to roll around naked in the dew at first light.
I've never tried it. I mean... it's cold, you've got to get up early... the whole idea's stupid.
That attitude and lack of participation might go a long way toward explaining my sorry state at this time.
And FUCK! I missed it - again!
Okay, I'm done.
I promise - a weapons post on the morrow. It's just that... it's like the smelt season.
When the stupid is running, it's impossible to resist.
Speaking of which - and I promise I'll be done after this - Tamara K. is the gift that keeps on giving.
I didn't link to her because, if she writes about me, then no one will find out about her most recent, brilliant, clever rejoinder.
But, total from last Sunday to yesterday - 771 visits.
Again, thanks, Tam.
Check back tomorrow for me getting back on task.
The rush of new faces is drawing to a close - only six hits yesterday and four from the day before.
Alas.

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