YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK
Posted on 02/26/2020 8:42:09 PM PST by Rebelbase
A baby fell out of a window
It looked like his head would be split
But luck was with baby
As he fell in a big pile of sh....aving cream...
Larger beard guide image here.
So they’ve moved from gun control to sensible and reasonable beard control?
In a non PC world the Toothbrush Mustache would have been called a Hitler.
Looks like they left off the Perv ‘stach. Maybe that’s a good thing?
Every time I think we’ve reached peak stupid, I’m rapidly proven wrong.
I didn’t see the “Aunt Edna” either
I understand the point behind the poster and all but wonder how much the government spent on all of this?
This is real? We pay these clowns for this? Really?????
Better facial recognition with no beard...
Just put earplugs in your nose. I gave up wearing facemasks a month ago.
This more troubling than any virus!
We are truly witnessing a world going insane!
This sh*t is custom made for totalitarians!
I am currently at the outside edge of bandholz, and headed for ZZ Top. Screw this.
CC
Make sure your mask
Is good and tight.
Shave with our cream
Each morning and night.
Burma Shave
We pay these clowns for this?
Would that were the case.
The clowns are paid with money borrowed from those who really call the shots.
The uniparty elite and those connected with them get a cut.
The hoi poloi pay the interest on the money to those who really call the shots.
Liberty and justice for all is dead.
I picked the wrong week to grow a Van Dyke.
I don’t see my soup strainer goat on the poster.
Kipling was a prophet. The last stanza is especially profound.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings
AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “Stick to the Devil you know.”
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “The Wages of Sin is Death.”
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “If you don’t work you die.”
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
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