Posted on 07/17/2005 10:16:28 PM PDT by doug from upland
MIDI - MANDY (Barry Manilow)
Last week while we were in bed
"Let's get Karl Rove," you said
We can pull it off...the press will play
What we start, I know, won't go away
Together we'd be helping Hillary
We'd set it up easily
Wilson will comply...and so will his wife
For the RNC, we'd cause so much strife
Oh, Mandy...you must put on that leather pink burqa
It's not my fault, you know
Oh, Mandy...even with Viagra, it won't work-a
If you let your face show...oh, Mandy
True believers, that we are
We'll be following her star
We'll do anything...unfair or not
She'll be fixing it, if we get caught
And so, let's try to get our stories straight
This is gonna be so great
Let's set our course...I'm so tired of losing
There's no dirty trick that we won't be using
Oh, Mandy...you must put on that leather pink burqa
It's not my fault, you know
Oh, Mandy...even with Viagra, it won't work-a
If you let your face show...oh, Mandy
All the Democrats will stand up screaming
Voters will not know that we have been scheming
Oh, Mandy...you must put on that leather pink burqa
It's not my fault, you know
Oh, Mandy...even with Viagra, it won't work-a
If you let your face show
Oh, Mandy...you must put on that leather pink burqa
It's not my fault, you know
Oh, Mandy...even with Viagra, it won't work-a
If you let...your face show
Someone had to do this. I called Manilow, and he passed.
Plame security breach? It just ain't so, Joe
July 17, 2005
BY MARK STEYN SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST Advertisement
Karl Rove? Please. I couldn't care less. This week finds me thousands of miles from the Beltway in what I believe the ABC World News Tonight map designates as the Rest Of The Planet, an obscure beat the media can't seem to spare a correspondent for. But even if I was with the rest of the navel-gazers inside the Beltway I wouldn't be interested in who ''leaked'' the name of CIA employee Valerie Plame to the press. As her weirdly self-obsesssed husband Joseph C. Wilson IV conceded on CNN the other day, she wasn't a ''clandestine officer'' and, indeed, hadn't been one for six years. So one can only ''leak'' her name in the sense that one can ''leak'' the name of the checkout clerk at Home Depot.
Back when Woodrow Wilson was running for president, he had a campaign song called ''Wilson, That's All.'' If only. With Joe Wilson, it's never all. He keeps coming back like a song. But in the real world there's only one scandal in this whole wretched business -- that the CIA, as part of its institutional obstruction of the administration, set up a pathetic ''fact-finding mission'' that would be considered a joke by any serious intelligence agency and compounded it by sending, at the behest of his wife, a shrill politically motivated poseur who, for the sake of 15 minutes' celebrity on the cable gabfest circuit, misled the nation about what he found.
This controversy began, you'll recall, because Wilson objected to a line in the president's State of the Union speech that British intelligence had discovered that Iraq had been trying to acquire ''yellowcake'' -- i.e., weaponized uranium -- from Africa. This assertion made Bush, in Wilson's incisive analysis, a ''liar'' and Cheney a ''lying sonofabitch.''
In fact, the only lying sonafabitch turned out to be Yellowcake Joe. Just about everybody on the face of the earth except Wilson, the White House press corps and the moveon.org crowd accepts that Saddam was indeed trying to acquire uranium from Africa. Don't take my word for it; it's the conclusion of the Senate intelligence report, Lord Butler's report in the United Kingdom, MI6, French intelligence, other European services -- and, come to that, the original CIA report based on Joe Wilson's own briefing to them. Why Yellowcake Joe then wrote an article for the New York Times misrepresenting what he'd been told by senior figures from Major Wanke's regime in Niger is known only to him.
As I wrote in this space a year ago, an ambassador, in Sir Henry Wootton's famous dictum, is a good man sent abroad to lie for his country; this ambassador came home to lie to his. What we have here is, in effect, the old standby plot of lame Hollywood conspiracy thrillers: rogue elements within the CIA attempting to destabilize the elected government. If the left's view of the world is now so insanely upside-down that that's the side they want to be on, good for them. But ''leaking'' the name of Wilson's wife and promoter within the CIA didn't ''endanger her life'' or ''compromise her mission.'' Au contraire, exposing the nature of this fraudulent, compromised mission might conceivably prevent the American people having their lives endangered.
Here's the thing: They're still pulling body parts from London's Tube tunnels. Too far away for you? No local angle? OK, how about this? Magdy el-Nashar. He's a 33-year old Egyptian arrested Friday morning in Cairo, and thought to be what they call a ''little emir'' -- i.e., the head honcho in the local terrorist cell, the one who fires up the suicide bombers. Until his timely disappearance, he was a biochemist studying at Leeds University and it's in his apartment the London bombs were made. Previously he was at North Carolina State University.
So this time round he blew up London rather than Washington. Next time, who knows? Who cares? Here's another fellow you don't read much about in America: Kamel Bourgass. He had a plan to unleash ricin in London. Fortunately, the cops got wind of that one and three months ago he was convicted and jailed. Just suppose, instead of the British police raiding Bourgass' apartment but missing el-Nashar's, it had been the other way around, and ricin had been released in aerosol form on the Tube.
Kamel Bourgass and Magdy el-Nashar are real people, not phantoms conjured by those lyin' sonsofbitches Bush and Cheney. And to those who say, "but that's why Iraq is a distraction from the war on terror," sorry, it doesn't work like that. It's not either/or; it's a string of connections: unlimited Saudi money, Westernized Islamist fanatics, supportive terrorist states, proliferating nuclear technology. One day it all comes together and there goes the neighborhood. Here's another story you may have missed this week:
''Iran will resume uranium enrichment if the European Union does not recognize its right to do so, two Iranian nuclear negotiators said in an interview published Tuesday.''
Got that? If you don't let us go nuclear, we'll go nuclear. Negotiate that, John Kerry. As with Bourgass and el-Nashar, Hossein Moussavian and Cyrus Nasseri are real Iranian negotiators, not merely the deranged war fantasies of Bush and Cheney.
The British suicide bombers and the Iranian nuke demands are genuine crises. The Valerie Plame game is a pseudo-crisis. If you want to talk about Niger or CIA reform, fine. But if you seriously think the only important aspect of a politically motivated narcissist kook's drive-thru intelligence mission to a critical part of the world is the precise sequence of events by which some White House guy came to mention the kook's wife to some reporter, then you've departed the real world and you're frolicking on the wilder shores of Planet Zongo.
What's this really about? It's not difficult. A big chunk of the American elites have decided there is no war; it's all a racket got up by Bush and Cheney. And, even if there is a war somewhere or other, wherever it is, it's not where Bush says it is. Iraq is a ''distraction'' from Afghanistan -- and, if there were no Iraq, Afghanistan would be a distraction from Niger, and Niger's a distraction from Valerie Plame's next photo shoot for Vanity Fair.
The police have found the suicide bomber's head in the rubble of the London bus, and Iran is enriching uranium. The only distraction here is the pitiful parochialism of our political culture.
tomkow6 have you been up to your usual tricks again?
OMG rack it Doug that funny ROFL
Mean spirited? Excuse me, but the reporter at the center of a jihad against W's right hand man is the a handjob away from Hitlery's inner circle? How exactly does this pass the smell test? The song, though, is a classic and should be played on Rush.
LOL!
How about another couple of verses:
Morning, all we do is lie,
Truthful people pass us by....
Trollopy wench with a goon in a Jaguar
Petty Clinton pawns with their falsehoods asunder,
Oh Mandy...
Morning, just more lies and lies,
We need Wilson alibis....
Stupid Democrats, frauds pointing fingers,
Chasing Karl Rove, got their t!ts in a wringer,
Oh Mandy...
Big Bump and I hope talk radio people are reading this for tomorrow's shows.
As I suggested in another thread, we should call it "Adware Journalism".
Adware Journalism is pretty good.
There's a gal who leads a life that's stranger
To folks who might buy Tonto and Lone Ranger...
Lady, careful what you say
Don't let hubby give ya 'way--
Odds are he'll be testifyin' tomorrow!
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
Oh, they'll give him a cell number
And lock up Mr. Plame
Beware of pretty publishers you find
Yeah, those publishers can print what y'all might whine...
But you let the wrong words slip
In that book 'he' wrote, the dip!
Odds are he'll be testifyin' tomorrow!
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
Oh, they'll give him a cell number
And lock up Mr. Plame
Buying lies from Niger despots one day
And then tellin' 'em in DC on the next day
Oh no, he let the wrong words go
Tryin' to take down ol' Karl Rove
Odds are he'll be testifyin' tomorrow!
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
SECRET, AGENT MA'AM
Oh, they'll give him a cell number
And lock up Mr. Plame
It is indeed an excellent song to parody, isn't it?
When Rush plays "secret Asian man," I crack up every time.
The one Rush plays is excellent. Was it about John Huang?
Bingo. I forget who does the parodies on Rush's show, but they rock. I wish I could get that gig.
Dude...you're my hero...can I have your beer?
Seriesly...these demorats ARE getting more and more truly EVIL in their hatred for our country and our President. They just make it up and say ANYTHING they want now, they KNOW the MSM isn't going to challenge them in ANY way...
G
You're gonna love this. It got emailed to Cooper today.
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