Posted on 10/30/2008 9:01:58 PM PDT by eekitsagreek
Hey all!
I was listening to Ramon Raquello and his orchestra (and who doesn't?) and just as they were playing "La Cumparsita", the program was interupted by a breaking news story from the Intercontinental Radio News with a bulletin on Mars.
"At twenty minutes before eight, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving towards the earth with enormous velocity. Professor Pierson of the Observatory at Princeton confirms Farrell's observation, and describes the phenomenon as "like a jet of blue flame shot from a gun".
They are the forces of the Galactic Empire coming to save the earth from Obamacide.
I must confess the stress and danger of the time have left an abiding sense of doubt and insecurity in my mind. I sit in my study writing by lamplight, and suddenly I see again the healing valley below set with writhing flames, and feel the house behind and about me empty and desolate. I go out into the Byfleet Road, and vehicles pass me, a butcher boy in a cart, a cabful of visitors, a workman on a bicycle, children going to school, and suddenly they become vague and unreal, and I hurry again with the artilleryman through the hot, brooding silence. Of a night I see the black powder darkening the silent streets, and the contorted bodies shrouded in that layer; they rise upon me tattered and dog-bitten. They gibber and grow fiercer, paler, uglier, mad distortions of humanity at last, and I wake, cold and wretched, in the darkness of the night.
I go to London and see the busy multitudes in Fleet Street and the Strand, and it comes across my mind that they are but the ghosts of the past, haunting the streets that I have seen silent and wretched, going to and fro, phantasms in a dead city, the mockery of life in a galvanised body. And strange, too, it is to stand on Primrose Hill, as I did but a day before writing this last chapter, to see the great province of houses, dim and blue through the haze of the smoke and mist, vanishing at last into the vague lower sky, to see the people walking to and fro among the flower beds on the hill, to see the sight-seers about the Martian machine that stands there still, to hear the tumult of playing children, and to recall the time when I saw it all bright and clear-cut, hard and silent, under the dawn of that last great day....
And strangest of all is it to hold my wife’s hand again, and to think that I have counted her, and that she has counted me, among the dead.
Global warming. The world’s on fire!
And on November 1st 1938, forty-six people applied for Social Security cards at the same New Jersey office, and they all got jobs at Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems that same day. And they all had the same first name.
Bush’s fault
Dang, I was going to be clever and be one of the first to respond to the question in post 1. In three minutes, I was beat out by 50 guy/gals with time on their hands.
Listen up folks, this could be for real. API has just reported it to be true.....they have a tape....and are negotiating with Greta to release it to the public. ;)
War of the Worlds. Jeez, I’m not that old, am I?
Well, Carl and that astronomer guy made it to the farm. Carl says it does not really look like a meteorite, but more like some kind of cylinder with a diameter of around 30 yards!!
0bama = the martians. And I’m not kidding. That excerpt hit a little to close to home because if the 0ne is elected, we will not recognize America as we know it today.
“Im just so glad I dont live in Grovers Mill, NJ. ;-)”
Nice!!
That was my first thought too !
ack ack..... ack ack ack !!
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