I am here in Albuquerque and the ascension of the balloons was cancelled owing to rain. I had come with Our Many Titted Empress, to take her mind off the bump in her ride to the assumption of absolute power. "My empress," I wheedled as she destroyed my Wedgwood, "why don't we go to Albuquerque? Sometimes it's a red state, sometimes it's a blue state, and who knows? Your sterling personality might tip it permanently into the blue column. And think of all the profit you can make from the barbed-wire concession."
~
And so we packed up. It was quite the convoy--she needed of course an entire semi for her collected works of Marx and de Sade, and of course the three-phase generator for the Hildo Turbo Hydra. And she never travels without the codes to the Diebold voting machines.

We took the top floor of the Hyatt Regency, of course, in downtown Albuquerque. I was for it because there's a long hall with mirrors on it, which will keep Bruno occupied for hours.

All was set for Our Many Titted Empress to be satisfied for hours--we'd brought a bazooka for her to shoot at the balloons. We got in the Ford Expedition, with 1000 rounds of bazooka ammunition, and wearing flak jackets--do you know what Our Empress looks like in a flak jacket? Drunk hunters mistake her for a deer blind.

And it was cancelled by the rain. Oh, the rage, the anger, and the humanity. "Theocritus, do you mean that we've driven <i>all the freaking way</i> from West Texas, with that walking and talking, jeez, talking, fruit stand of yours and <i>I can't shoot at the balloons?</i>

"Empress, we cannot control the weather."

"The hell we can't. Get me miss Nansky on the phone. Hell, considering what she thinks she can do with the economy, controlling the weather will be nothing to her."
~
Nansky flew out on her Speakerette's jet, the one which lets her fly cross country without refueling. Jet fuel that is; she can carry all the jet fuel that she drinks on board, which explains of course her expression. Plus the fact that she got that face-lift from a surgeon who went to Rice and thought she'd look better as an owl. The owls are not amused.

My lord but how they conjured. The kettles, the talismans, the chanting, the drums. The drums. The Indians asked them to STFU, and decided they'd go into a post-drum era of their civilization. That could have been of course seeing Our Many Titted Empress and Nansky drumming around a camp fire while Bruno, dressed, of course, as Carmen Miranda but covered with New Mexican zias, dancing. I don't know what made more noise--their drumming or Bruno's size-14 platform shoes.

And it didn't work. The weather wouldn't budge. So Our Empress put her head together with Nansky and they decided that if the weather wouldn't comply, then the economy would.

So the State of New Mexico is put on freeze until the weather clears. No one is allowed to leave, and only vital services will be performed. Just as the clock at Buckingham Palace is stopped if the queen isn't there to review the palace guard, the clock in New Mexico is stopped until the weather is good enough for a good ascension.

So Our Empress can fire her bazooka at the balloons. Now if I can just convince Miss Nansky to fly out with Our Empress at the airport...

But Albuquerque is a good Progressive town. Bugs Bunny is always lamenting that he should've turned left there.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:But Albuquerque is a good Progressive town. Bugs Bunny is always lamenting that he should've turned left there.

I never would of thought of it as that way. I thought he just was lost. . . of course. . . Elmer Fudd does seem like a bitter clinger when you take a good look at him. . .

My fellow comrades!
The clues are right in front of us!

Yes, Albuquerque is a progressive town but not as progressive as Santa Fe. There are endless posters for Tom Udall, who is being vilified on television as voting for every tax increase. This is wrong?

They're also on the same lawns as posters for the Chosen One.

The problem is the unaesthetic wires and stakes to keep them from floating into the ionosphere, where they will join their soulmates.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Yes, Albuquerque is a progressive town but not as progressive as Santa Fe. There are endless posters for Tom Udall, who is being vilified on television as voting for every tax increase. This is wrong?

They're also on the same lawns as posters for the Chosen One.

The problem is the unaesthetic wires and stakes to keep them from floating into the ionosphere, where they will join their soulmates.

Who are their soul mates, socialist Klingons?

Comrade Elliott wrote:Who are their soul mates, socialist Klingons?

The ionosphere is populated with roving swarms of kleptons, which are the elementary particles of theft.

The more progressive the person, the bigger the concentration of kleptons in his bloodstream. Jesse Jackson has no red blood cells--only green ones and kleptons. Our Many Titted Empress seems sometimes to be in a nimbus of glory--but it's the haze of kleptons which bend the light rays.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:

Comrade Elliott wrote:Who are their soul mates, socialist Klingons?

The ionosphere is populated with roving swarms of kleptons, which are the elementary particles of theft.

The more progressive the person, the bigger the concentration of kleptons in his bloodstream. Jesse Jackson has no red blood cells--only green ones and kleptons. Our Many Titted Empress seems sometimes to be in a nimbus of glory--but it's the haze of kleptons which bend the light rays.

This bending of light would explain a lot, like how there is no aura or special light around John McLame, but an omnipresent,omnipotent light around our Obamasiah.

Yes, and kleptons attract gnats too.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Yes, and kleptons attract gnats too.

That explains a lot. Do they attract moths, cave fish, and other assorted light attracted animals?

Yes, and the entire staff of every English department, psychology department, and the various departments of the professionally aggrieved in every university.

Plus the staff of <i>The New York Times</i>, new york times, the nation, and the washington post.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:Yes, and the entire staff of every English department, psychology department, and the various departments of the professionally aggrieved in every university.

Plus the staff of <i>The New York Times</i>, new york times, the nation, and the washington post.

(off if needed)
This would explain why I use sunglasses outside, and am a creature of the night.

This is most strange,Comrade Eruditie....I am sitting here in a sleep shirt that my spousal unit brought back for me in 2005, while on a business trip to N.Mexico.
It has a bunch of hotair balloons on it...and reads;Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta "Come Touch The Sky".

I don't believe this is mere coincidence. No,comrades!! It is a sign! A sign that the Obamessiah will lift us up from our troubles and woes and carry us in his progressive balloon(full of hot air,of course)to a better,more glorious world.

To the world of tomorrow, when capitalism has been destroyed owing to the sub-prime lending. Which the lenders were forced to do by the heroic ACORN, which the Obamessiah funded as head of the Woods Project, and then Fannie Mae bought them. All hail, for destroying that capitalist institution Fannie Mae!

And all hail to the Obamessiah for his support of ACORN which turned in so many necro-proxy votes and engaged in so much voter fraud with Project Vote that the Nevada SOS confiscated their records.

Now that Barry. That's my kind of man. Manages to get voter fraud and mortgage fraud turned into community organization, causes the biggest panic since 1929, and destroyed a trillion dollars, at least, of wealth.

And he walks on water too.

I understand that The Obamessiah raised Tom Landry from the dead so ACORN could register him to vote in Nevada with the rest of the Cowboys.

He definitely gets all 7 of my Dallas votes.

LBJ is on the campaign trail for the necro-proxy votes in Duvall County, too. After all, why not twice?

It was foretold in the bible I used to cling to that when the end times come, the dead will all rise from their graves to vote for Obama before ascending into the ionosphere to help combat AGW. Seeing the plethora of necro-Americans arising, I surmise the time is here. Before it is too late, I must find out (for my own edification, mind you) how often the word "subprime" appears in the book of Revelations. I don't want to be a name dropper, but the other night I was serving booze and blow at a poker game attended by Obama and a few terrorists fellows from his neighborhood (the ones currently free on bail) when the great one said, "This isn't the Apocalypse I knew... but I'll take it!" Then he proceeded to blow his entire wad of chips trying to draw 3 cards to an inside straight. The triumph of hope over having a half a brain, a parable for our time.

Opiate wrote:Then he proceeded to blow his entire wad of chips trying to draw 3 cards to an inside straight.

Opiate, think carefully, and this is really really important. Was the chosen one sitting in the room with the man with the tin-foil hat? Within <i>six feet</i> of the man in the tin-foil hat?

The farther the man in the tin-foil hat gets away from the Chosen One, the more he says "uh" and tries to draw to an inside straight. It is thought that, if Michelle didn't object, he and the man in the tin-foil hat could do a lip-lock and finish off Einstein's Unified Field Theory.

Opiate of the People wrote:Seeing the plethora of necro-Americans arising, I surmise the time is here.

It may be Comrade, but the 'pocalypse seems to happen every couple of years somewhere in 'merica.

It is only fair that LBJ's eternal rest is disturbed for this election; my Dad claimed that in his day, LBJ caused the dead to line up in alphabetical order on election day.

<off>We may be of roughly the same age. My mother told me the same thing. Also I know a man whose mother worked in the Duvall County courthouse during the Billie Sol Estes scandal. I live in his old home town of Pecos, and word is that he drove to Midland airport and talked to LBJ on the vice president's plane. After the Estes scandal, supposedly the Secret Service went into the Duvall County Clerk's office and replaced pages of the chattel-mortgage records with LBJ's name on them with pages without them. (The chattel mortgages were where fertilizer tanks were mortgages, the predecessor of financing statements which came in 7/1/66.)

Sol would mortgage non-existent fertilizer tanks to fools in New York, whom he'd get drunk. Once I talked to a hospital guard who as a 14-year-old was paid $3/hour, big in 1961, to haul fertilizer tanks from one part of the county to the other and screw on new number plates.

And LBJ was in it up to his elbows. But he couldn't have done it without the alphabetical ranks of necro-proxy voters.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:

Opiate wrote:Then he proceeded to blow his entire wad of chips trying to draw 3 cards to an inside straight.

Opiate, think carefully, and this is really really important. Was the chosen one sitting in the room with the man with the tin-foil hat? Within <i>six feet</i> of the man in the tin-foil hat?

The farther the man in the tin-foil hat gets away from the Chosen One, the more he says "uh" and tries to draw to an inside straight. It is thought that, if Michelle didn't object, he and the man in the tin-foil hat could do a lip-lock and finish off Einstein's Unified Field Theory.

Actually, they all had tinfoil hats on. Something about blocking parabolic microphones from listening in. Either that, or they were all downloading instructions from the home planet using the tinfoil hats as a miniature phased array of radar telescopes (and tinfoil helps keep the barbeque clean too!) Obama was dealt 3 aces and 2 tens, and discarded two aces and a ten hoping to make that straight. I guess the fellow operating the teleprompter was a bit too giddy from celebrating the messiah's forthcoming election win.

Tiglath-Pileser wrote:

Opiate of the People wrote:Seeing the plethora of necro-Americans arising, I surmise the time is here.

It may be Comrade, but the 'pocalypse seems to happen every couple of years somewhere in 'merica.

Y, capitalism is cyclical and that means down cycles as well as up cycles. But now that the liar loan balloons go boom! widdle Johnny and Janie want Mummy and Daddy Gubmint to kiss-kiss and make it all go away. The joke is on us, the fool we are hiring to fix the world's economic problems has never even held a real paying job. Historians tell us the actions of Hoover, the Congress and the Fed in 1929 and early 30s turned a nasty recession into a full-blown disaster. And now here we are again, at the edge of possibly another precipice, and about to entrust Howdy Doody with the task of leading us away from the abyss. It wouldn't be so disconcerting if it all weren't so weird.... the cult-like quality of his followers, the obliviousness of so many to Obama's numerous negatives, his enormous ego with absolutely no basis in reality. I'd normally say that we can bounce back from this crisis but I'm not so sure if this dipsh*t wins.

<off>They'll play the credit crisis--which has Obama's fingerprints all over it--as proof of Republican incompetence when the Democrats did it. A sobering week for me; the basis of my investments was barely touched but I lost a huge amount of money, huge for me. Wealthy friends decided to ride it out. And it's all because of leftist insistence that people who cannot afford a house be given one.

Banks won't lend to each other, knowing that the securitized CDOs are worthless; the Fed is lending for the first time to corporations; the media is blowing the Chosen One at every opportunity.

Not much sleep this week.

I for one am delighted to delay my own search to buy a home of my own and take up the task of paying for somebody else's house. I had thought that I was ready to get a place of my own, having secured a tenure-track job and found a place I was willing to live for a while. I actually started looking for some land to build a house on. I've saved some money and kept a pretty good credit record. Thank goodness the bailout came when it did; now I can take my savings and apply them to the tax increase that will come to pay off all these Fannie and Freddie loans. That makes me feel better, that I am spending the money I worked hard to earn and was careful to save to pay off the mortgages of people who didn't save, didn't think, and didn't understand the mechanics of the enormously un-repayable loans they were taking out. And that's what being progressive is all about feeling good about yourself.

Ah, yes, Betinov, I do understand. I do lots of real estate, including closing houses. I cannot tell you the joy that I feel when I close a house for people with a credit-rating of 500, and who cannot really read the documents that they are signing. And how these people are helped.

Such care is taken with their finances that at the time of loan application their bank account is monitored and also monitored just before closing. If there are large differences, they have to be explained. A large input of cash? Explain that! Was it a gift?

And those wonderful enablers, the mortgage brokers. People with such credit ratings to go them, and they place a mortgage with a lender. They are paid well for their services, of course, and their income is determined only by their service to the customer in getting the loan, and not by their service to the lender in insuring an income stream being paid back.

So selfless. Why worry about the repayment of a loan? And for this the mortgage brokers take their 2 or 3 or 4% of the loan and go about helping other people, and if the lender that they helped before goes bust, well, there it is.