Komrades! A serendipitous event over the past week has given me hope in the progress of the Republik of Michigan.

Last week I was reminded of an educator of my undergraduate years in the German language, who was very helpful to the Tsarevna in opening her up to the wonders of the wide world from a liberal perspective, and to raging hormones honest desire to learn typical of 19 year old girls under the spell of seeking higher understanding about the world from a hot hunk of male an upstanding, brilliant lecturer who favored her with his attentions.

Having run accross something he'd written on the web of late, I wondered what might be going on with the old chap. A bit of research suggested my mentor might be lonely at this time. In addition, his contributions to some questionable research suggesting the paranoid ramblings of the Reich Wing survivalist community startled me: could he need re-edukation to rescue him from this evil influence???

Being a Comforter of Males par excellence....and feeling a bit neglected as Maxim has been acting distant of late...I made plans to immediately head to my alma mater to provide emergency hot monkey love respectful comfort and gentle reprimand for his wayward thinking.

Imagine my joy and satisfaction in finding today that my initial impression was based on old information, and that the man I have so long cared about is happily married to a liberal lobbyist who contributes to correct environmental causes, and lavishly to campaigns such as that of Comrades Levin and Stabinaw. I am so comforted myself to know that Herr Professor lives in wedded bliss with a high, upstanding member of the liberal community. Alas, given the community in which they live, Free Love is not a good idea because it sometimes leads to reprisals from the Kapitalist Kommunity there. I must leave him in her capable , er, hands.

Bitch.

Oh dear.

My dear Tsarevna, ordinarily I might console you with the useless bromide that there are other fish in the ocean, except that might not be the thing to say on the same day bin Laden was sent to go sleeping with them.

Unless you'd like the thin blonde to join them.

Commissarka Pinkie wrote:My dear Tsarevna, ordinarily I might console you with the useless bromide that there are other fish in the ocean, except that might not be the thing to say on the same day bin Laden was sent to go sleeping with them.

Unless you'd like the thin blonde to join them.

Hmmmmmm, he might need a good lawyer....

Царевна wrote:Hmmmmmm, he might need a good lawyer....

What is this "GOOD" lawyer of which you speak? Has Politbureau unleashed new weapon for mass destruction?
Why emphasis on comforting the males? are there not tractors to fix and shovels to clean where you live? So many beets to dig before winter and you womens want to get all so snuggly... gripe now because mens are busy and tired, but don't you say a WORD when is winter and you have no Borscht! Dammit


<straightens tunic, slicks down hair> Tsarevna, what are plans after harvest?

Tovarichi wrote:

Царевна wrote:Hmmmmmm, he might need a good lawyer....

What is this "GOOD" lawyer of which you speak? Has Politbureau unleashed new weapon for mass destruction?
Why emphasis on comforting the males? are there not tractors to fix and shovels to clean where you live? So many beets to dig before winter and you womens want to get all so snuggly... gripe now because mens are busy and tired, but don't you say a WORD when is winter and you have no Borscht! Dammit


<straightens tunic, slicks down hair> Tsarevna, what are plans after harvest?

Tovarich Tovarichi, far be it for me to distract the men from their glorious labor. I simply avail myself of those who wish to take respite from their hard work during the day. Remember, the unions ensure that you have breaks, and are always fighting for more break. Morning break, mid-morning break, bitch about boss break, coffee break, tea break, vodka break....should not each laborer, male and female, be allowed to have love break?

As far as plans after harvest, Tovarichi....we will have big bonfire at harvest time ....we will certainly require another to burn more Kapitalist books by then...tell me where we can sneak off during the bonfire and we can cuddle up and draw a five year plan up together, perhaps in the loft. Five year plan must have a lot to do with love provided by Nanny in Chief. I can demonstrate you my finest techniques in Comfort and we can decide how my treasures should be divided to benefit all the masses. Of men. (straight men; perhaps Father Prog and Bruno might be able to see to the others....)

Tsarevna, you slut. First Valery, then some married guy, and now Tovarichi. If you think a fat dowry makes up for your trolloping ways ...well you would be right. However, I also have a reputation to maintain and you are dissing me in public, I could lose my Superkommissar status you tramp.

Nor can you ever spell my name correctly.

You leave me no choice. I break with thee... I break with thee.. I break with thee.. and throw dog-poop on your shoes.

Good Luck Tovarichi. Be warned, she is a bit needy.

But Maksim, you know that Latin is a second alphabet for me!!!! Darling, my little Maksy poo, tweetie pie....please reconsider. I promise to keep my wild sexy flings under wraps now behave better. [bats eyelashes, blows in Maksim's ear]

I will make borscht for you my sweet, just the way you like it.....;-) ;-)

Fat Dowry? makes Borscht? I hope harvest is soon...

Superkommissar Maksim wrote:Tsarevna, you slut. First Valery, then some married guy, and now Tovarichi. If you think a fat dowry makes up for your trolloping ways ...well you would be right. However, I also have a reputation to maintain and you are dissing me in public, I could lose my Superkommissar status you tramp.

Nor can you ever spell my name correctly.

You leave me no choice. I break with thee... I break with thee.. I break with thee.. and throw dog-poop on your shoes.

Good Luck Tovarichi. Be warned, she is a bit needy.

But Tovarichi....er, I mean Tovarich MAKSIM!!!!!....really, that's what I said!!!!....., this is why we must re-edukate the people away from their traditional "bourgeoisie" marriages and to Free Love (not yet available in the farmland around East Lansing; but in our neighborhoods, my love, we must set an example! Let me remind you of our Fearless Leader's fine words while educating us last November about the very concept of Marxist free love:

One pleasant September afternoon, right after a lecture on Marxist philosophy, I was sitting on a park bench with a female student from a parallel class. I quoted the important work by Friedrich Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State, trying to convince her that if the Soviet society had really been organized according to Marxist principles, we would all be having free unlimited sex. I told her that the current social taboos and limitations stemmed from the old bourgeois era, when relationships between people were determined by the ownership of property held by a family, which necessitated a strict monogamy. It was a shame, I remember saying, that in our supposedly more progressive Soviet society, where private property was no longer a burden and where goods were distributed among people by the government, we still continued to be oppressed by the archaic sexual taboos instead of having a free redistribution of intimate favors.
If it's true that the human mind is a social construct, I said, then the above taboos were nothing but changeable perceptions past expiration date. Boundaries on human intimacy had no place in modernity, where perceptions of right and wrong were subject to change along with the socio-economic formation. And since everything was a matter of perception, any wrong could easily become a new right if only someone would give history an overdue nudge. And if someone must do this historic nudge, why not us? If not us, who? If not now, when? This was clearly an idea whose time had come.
She looked me in the eye and said: "I have no idea what you told me, but if you want to do it, let's go to my dorm."

Who can argue words of Dear Leader? And who knew one day he would do to all of us what he did for young lady? In early days of teleprompter this must have taken very long time to say...

Comrade Tsarevna, your words flow like expensive vodka and make head spin the same way. I trust you have no aversion to such classic Eastern European characteristics as back and/or chest hair, male pattern baldness, and that little bloated tummy like on starving children commercials, only not from starving...though I do have good teeth (maintained by Army Dentists!) and I remove boots outside on porch, except when snow is above boot-tops.

Harvest seems so far away, yet it's for the People™ and the Party™ that I labor. Be patient, that one day you and I (as Workers of the World) may "Unite" and ahhh, ummmmmm listen to speeches of Dear Leader on iPod I bought from "Elizabeth of Windsor" on e-Bay...

Is also most fortunate that Judge/Colonel Fraulein has not broken gotten wind of our discussions...you know how she can be. Not that we--she--nevermind...

Tovarichi wrote:Who can argue words of Dear Leader? And who knew one day he would do to all of us what he did for young lady? In early days of teleprompter this must have taken very long time to say...

Comrade Tsarevna, your words flow like expensive vodka and make head spin the same way. I trust you have no aversion to such classic Eastern European characteristics as back and/or chest hair, male pattern baldness, and that little bloated tummy like on starving children commercials, only not from starving...though I do have good teeth (maintained by Army Dentists!) and I remove boots outside on porch, except when snow is above boot-tops.

Harvest seems so far away, yet it's for the People™ and the Party™ that I labor. Be patient, that one day you and I (as Workers of the World) may "Unite" and ahhh, ummmmmm listen to speeches of Dear Leader on iPod I bought from "Elizabeth of Windsor" on e-Bay...

Is also most fortunate that Judge/Colonel Fraulein has not broken gotten wind of our discussions...you know how she can be. Not that we--she--nevermind...

No! Not DEAR leader Barack, but FEARLESS leader RED Square. Sorry for confusion, although both cut a handsome figure, don't you think? But why talk of them when YOU are nearby, my fragrant, booted, tunicked Tovarichi. God....I love male pattern baldness!!! And pot bellies...don't get me started, you sexy prog. Tovarich Tovarichi, is that your only name or do you have another first name? Would our children be Tovarich Tovarich Tovarichovich Tovarichi or Tovarich Tovaricha Toveryovna Tovarichi?....I look forward to bearing your Tovarichavich. ;-)

Oh....my....gawd.

I miss a couple days lurking around the Gulag, and look at what happens.

This looks like a box of puppies crawling over each other.

Minus the kitty cats? I'm afraid it is Spring for our beloved Царевна, and I'm also afraid to even post in this thread. We are not watching! Carry on...

Vladimir_Scratchanitch wrote:Oh....my....gawd.

I miss a couple days lurking around the Gulag, and look at what happens.

This looks like a box of puppies crawling over each other.

Where were you???? Have you been debriefed of any possible Kapitalist influence? Be sure to go to Jiffy Lobe.

Not to rain on anybody's parade here but Comrade Mark Thompson, from South Charleston, West Virginia may have just taken PC Romance to the next level...

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/articl ... ds-newsxml

Comrade Tsarevna, would not birthing of childrens give way to spreading, sagging, and angry dispositions caused by parasites in girly-places? Does not progressive ways teach choice? Are you one of brood-sows producing children for government paycheck of welfares?

Tovarichi wrote:Comrade Tsarevna, would not birthing of childrens give way to spreading, sagging, and angry dispositions caused by parasites in girly-places? Does not progressive ways teach choice? Are you one of brood-sows producing children for government paycheck of welfares?

No, Tovarichi, I just want to have your love child. We don't have to have more than one. I just want to know how the whole Tovarich/patronymic thing would work out. Aren't we relocating to the Motherland?

In the meantime, I have moved on to a more mature place. Not to a place where I stop having wild sex with just about anyone who will express free love with me providing comfort equally for all men of the kollektive, but a maturity that allows me to dispel bourgeoisie feelings of longing for monogomy, and especially of jealousy of my fellow prog who stole the man of my dreams out from under my eyes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_J0mhpi ... re=related

Hookup, Party, HangOut, after a bit of the ol' Sexting, eh... what the bourgeoisie called a "whore" or a "womanizer"... such antiquated terms of patriarchal civilization. What's most important comrades is to use and be used, like wild monkey's, like the tribes that inspired Comrade Marx's glorious opus.

From a civilization of psychological and physical boundaries to a boundless quagmire of primordial ooze... now that's Progress!

Tsarevna, I'm not sure why you have chosen Tovarichi as provider of love child, but most honored. (best offer all week!). Solicitors will draw up necessary paperwork and arrange travel documentation and arrange for you to become citizen of Texasistan. travel light, no more than fits in say--bread basket, banditos have been active. As it warms up, wildflowers are growing, and the snakes come out to sun themselves... all truly glorious!

I have canceled order for Russian girl (saw ad at Peoples Cube, those girls are certainly more equal than others!) in favor of havin my own Tsarevna right off of the nose of Amerikkan warplane. I feel warming inside just to think of such. Oh, bring cleaning supplies, this place needs lots of work...see you right after harvest!

Tsarevna is simply following good protocol, she wants to debrief them both for an extended length during questioning.

And, of course, pump them for information. This can be difficult, but it's when the hard things come up that the Tsarevna enjoys this activity the most. Written confessions of any and all anti-party activity can be extracted this way, but I often prefer oral examinations. I have found one can get quite a mouthful....er, earful pressing through this course of manipulation. The Tsarevna prides herself in massaging every drop of ....

Oh, we were talking about mine and Tovarichi's love child, weren't we?

Tovarichi, I'm all set! I'm a Texas Belle at heart, and sing a lot of tex mex songs at open mics (that's actually true). I'm eating only watercress and beets to prepare for a pregnancy diet that will nurture our little bolshevik in the most progressive way.

In the interest of truth in advertising, Tovarichi, the picture on the warplane was taken during the Great Patriotic War, when I was a bit younger. Here is a more current picture of me:

Red Rooster wrote:Minus the kitty cats? I'm afraid it is Spring for our beloved Царевна, and I'm also afraid to even post in this thread. We are not watching! Carry on...

Red, please don't let me scare you away. The great thing about Free Love is remembering there is always enough to go around, for every girl and boy.

Harvest is so far away now! Oh the glorious hams that will be served with such fertile eggs! Our young Republican little cossack will be handsome and healthy!

Your photo of days gone by is most attractive, your recent photo seems slightly different. A few pounds you say? Where did these pounds go? Did you originally model the nose-art for a Cargo plane? I think I shall have need of one very soon to transport you in the manner to which you are to become accustomed.

I shall also place reinforcing timbers under the bed as I see my current cot will not suffice.

This makes me uncomfortable, but we do need to discuss your dowry...

Here's to Loves Lost....

Tovarichi wrote:Harvest is so far away now! Oh the glorious hams that will be served with such fertile eggs! Our young Republican little cossack will be handsome and healthy!

Your photo of days gone by is most attractive, your recent photo seems slightly different. A few pounds you say? Where did these pounds go? Did you originally model the nose-art for a Cargo plane? I think I shall have need of one very soon to transport you in the manner to which you are to become accustomed.

I shall also place reinforcing timbers under the bed as I see my current cot will not suffice.

This makes me uncomfortable, but we do need to discuss your dowry...

Don't worry about the dowry, Tovarichi. I keep it in my Special Place. I'll let you hunt for it on our wedding night. Hee!

Princess Nookie wrote:

Red Rooster wrote:Minus the kitty cats? I'm afraid it is Spring for our beloved Царевна, and I'm also afraid to even post in this thread. We are not watching! Carry on...

Red, please don't let me scare you away. The great thing about Free Love is remembering there is always enough to go around, for every girl and boy.

And all the KITTIES!!!

Reiuxcat wrote:And all the KITTIES!!!

Yes, Free Love for all kitties! Spayed and neutered free love, of course.

Princess Nookie wrote:

Reiuxcat wrote:And all the KITTIES!!!

Yes, Free Love for all kitties! Spayed and neutered free love, of course.

Yeah, right

Princess, I'm shocked, shocked at such wanton banter. Why in the old country your mother would've taken you out to the woods and nailed your hand to a tree stump and left you there for the bears.

Sigh, well that is why the Bolshevik guards spared me while Mama, Papa, little Alexei and the others were splattered against the wall in the cellar...poor Mama went on to her heavenly reward oblivion, and I was tutored in the art of love. I must admit that, though my re-edukation in atheism is secure, I had mixed feelings when Mama was made a "passion bearer" in the Orthodox church, but then, I bear a lot of passion myself so perhaps that's to be expected.

PN, I am somewhat amazed that you, of all people, being high in the Party rank, would worry about someone in loco parentis making light with your virtue. He can use all the blandishments that he wants, but it doesn't matter--after all, isn't that frog head of the World Bank being defended by his cuckolded wife? That's the way to do it. After all, he's a good socialist with many homes and an important job. And that's all that matters.

Because you're nothing but a piece of protoplasm in the cog of progressivism. As am I, and I squirm in delight, as I surreptitiously grab my brass knuckles and switchblade.

You see, we progs just don't believe in individuality because it's so, well, limiting. If we believed in human rights and dignity, then we couldn't do the things that we do, sure that we were virtuous. Not because they work, because they don't, but because we're Progs.

You get that? A prog is nothing but grist for other, bigger progs. There is nothing inherent or even postulated in the prog's mind about individual worth.

Oh we talk a good battle, wringing tears out of handkerchiefs we actually peed on. (It's not quite as good as smelling our own farts, but it works.) But as far as consideration for others?

Get. A. Life. That professor did you a good service, telling you that you're nothing but fodder for the prog's mill.

And also he did manage to tell you just what sort of person he is and I know that I'll be damned to prog hell, listening to Rush Limbaugh, but I have to say that it was rude, horrible, nasty, exploitative, and that's all to the good. The hell bit comes when I wish that you hadn't had to go through it.

That's it! That's it! I'll read Mein Kampf or Bill Ayer's Dope Dreams of my Father, Who Seeded a Hippie Chick Who Wanted to Piss Off Her Parents.

Father Prog Theocritus wrote:PN, I am somewhat amazed that you, of all people, being high in the Party rank, would worry about someone in loco parentis making light with your virtue. He can use all the blandishments that he wants, but it doesn't matter--after all, isn't that frog head of the World Bank being defended by his cuckolded wife? That's the way to do it. After all, he's a good socialist with many homes and an important job. And that's all that matters.

Because you're nothing but a piece of protoplasm in the cog of progressivism. As am I, and I squirm in delight, as I surreptitiously grab my brass knuckles and switchblade.

You see, we progs just don't believe in individuality because it's so, well, limiting. If we believed in human rights and dignity, then we couldn't do the things that we do, sure that we were virtuous. Not because they work, because they don't, but because we're Progs.

You get that? A prog is nothing but grist for other, bigger progs. There is nothing inherent or even postulated in the prog's mind about individual worth.

Oh we talk a good battle, wringing tears out of handkerchiefs we actually peed on. (It's not quite as good as smelling our own farts, but it works.) But as far as consideration for others?

Get. A. Life. That professor did you a good service, telling you that you're nothing but fodder for the prog's mill.

And also he did manage to tell you just what sort of person he is and I know that I'll be damned to prog hell, listening to Rush Limbaugh, but I have to say that it was rude, horrible, nasty, exploitative, and that's all to the good. The hell bit comes when I wish that you hadn't had to go through it.

That's it! That's it! I'll read Mein Kampf or Bill Ayer's Dope Dreams of my Father, Who Seeded a Hippie Chick Who Wanted to Piss Off Her Parents.

Sigh, thanks FPT. It was a moment of weakness. I can now move on to carry the prog banner.

Ah yes, PN; you have my full faith and confidence. You have done not a single thing which indicates to me that you think that there is a world beyond your own ideology, just like the Anointed One.

Never, ever, or I ought to say never, never because we have those pesky teacher's unions who care nothing for grammar, think that there is anything beyond your grasp.

You are a Made Prog, and if not before now, I hereby promote you to those empyrean heights.

That means that you are free to do whatever you think will make you more important. Cap-n-trade? Save the whales? Save the 3" lizard which will add a dollar to our gas prices? Hell yeah, anything to impoverish and enslave people who might take exception to our control over, well, their entire lives, and with no real reason at all. But then we're made progs and being a prog means never having to say you're sorry, even if other progs murdered over 100 million people in the last century. Prog rectitude means that it's the thought that counts, and damn the bodies.

Ah, these independent people. They weren't doing what we wanted, and that's why they had to die. Starve mostly. We're important, see, and people who don't see that have to die. Ask Uncle Joe. Or, couched in different terms, ask James Earl Carter, and he will reply with a grin like a raccoon eating fish guts out of a steel-wire brush that he ought to have been elected in 1980 and therefore on the strength of his emotional journey (we progs hate logic) and he'll say that although he's nuclar scientist (yeah, right) he has a moral imperative, no doubt received from Laika, Noble Space Dog, to tell people what to do. From the lofty height of his peanut throne.

This is all mean reality and I hate reality. For I'm a made prog, and reality is what I make it. Look deeply into the eyes of Lord Obozo or Reid or Peloski and you can see the wonderful flight from reality. I hate reality. It makes my head hurt. As it should all good progs. We are progs, and reality is our enemy. Scream, shout, accuse, but deny reality for it is our enemy. We have no defense against it.

We pontificate and promise and it all comes crashing down and the RethugliKKKAns save our sorry ass and we beat them over the head and shoulders for saving us.

How wonderful. Do you know how good it tastes to bite the hand that feeds you? Ask Katie Couric but then the hand that fed her had blood so thin that it was water. Murrow, Cronkite, Rather--all good progs but rather etiolated.

Why do we do this? Because we can. Get it? We are shits BECAUSE WE CAN BE. That's it. Virtue, ability, county for nothing. It's our consummate will which matters and since we have the moral high road in a liberal media, it won't do to pay attention to anyone else.

It follows that we should not show gratitude or acknowledgment of another person in the universe? That's not progifferic.

Repeat after me. Look in the mirror and think of Nanski Peloski or Dingy Harry Reid and dig deep into their constitutional insanity. Think of Thom Hartmann, who says why now borrow money? We pay it to ourselves. I am so glad to find another flat-earther, who has not heard of China or Japan.

Alas and alack, the people whom I support, or I should say who I support, because these people are not constrained by grammar or even civilization, and I bet they never heard of Bach or Mozart, are the people I hitch my wagon to.

Because, as a Made Prog, I'm just as goddamned useless as far as human happiness goes as a footman in the White House.

I do love being a Prog though; the only achievement is attitude.

Get that? The only currency of a prog is attitude. Because in a reckoning with reality, the prog looses.

So let's have attitude.

After all, that's a prog's only tool. Logic, no. Intelligence, no. Prudence, no.

But attitude, hell yes.

Get back on my yard as I pick my neighbor's pocket.

And snooter him.

[ off I just did the 2010 statistical report for the Texas Department of Insurance. It's grown from 2 pages to 14, just to make sure that Things Are Done Right. It's a cargo cult, thinking that enough paper will make it right. I will get out of title insurance when I can; it's a small part of the business, but it's entirely regulated by Lilliputians who think that enough paper can reify honesty.

If only.]