The Trump Campaign will be carpet-bombing the midwest with this ad and may even send it off to raid the Moonbat capitols of Los Angeles and San Francisco with a strafing run in DC.
WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder-broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter-love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush–and that was all.
Gerard Van der Leun
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
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The difference between Nancy and Marie Antoinette is that Nancy is aware of the “Let them eat cake” folly and did it anyway, which makes her doubly or tripley deranged. She’s Marie on estrogenic steroids.
Every time I see ole Nancy continually doing dumbass stuff I can’t help but think of what her daughter said of her last year –
“She’ll cut your head off and you won’t even know you’re bleeding” – Alexandra Pelosi
OK, sure…
ghastly ho
worse, a bunch of people think she’s swell
Everything Madame Pelosi and her comrades have done these past 3+ years has blown up in their faces. They continue to cut their own heads off,oblivious to the hemorrhage.
Please,carry on,dimwits. The whole world is watching.
Everyone is taking this out of context. What she really means is, “Kneel before me you untermensch.”
Have you ever known a working class American to wear their sweater in that manner? Only the elite and those wanting to be do so.
Last night I enjoyed the most delightful dream in which James Cagney shoved a grapefruit in Nancy Pelosi’s mug.
She’s a perfect fit for her constituency, I fear. She’s been letting her freak flag fly for a long time, and if those dead fish eyes are any indication, crazier even than when I had the misfortune of meeting her back when she was comparatively small potatoes. I’ve had the opportunity to meet with a reasonable slice of humanity, literally princes to paupers, over my life, but few have had as severe an impression upon me as did San Fran Nan. Maybe that dude we hired in port at Abidjan to lay into the riotous mendicant yet threatening masses with a stout wooden staff, clearing a path from gangway to automobile, a seven foot tall, heavily muscled, filed teeth grinning, purported former cannibal and Mohammedan from Mali.
Three words : Rancid Old Bitch
This commie libturd BBFN NEEDS to be voted out of office and sent to mexafornia and made to stay there for the rest of her life!!
sent to mexafornia and made to stay there for the rest of her life!!
Nah, just send Madame Veto back to Baltimore, the city that her father and brother looted before she married into even more money and moved to California. Pelosi’s father had ties to the Mafia when he was mayor of the city. Baltimore now has a crime rate much higher than that of other cities of comparable size and would doubtless be pleased to give Pelosi a friendly neighborhood gun salute.
“Madame Veto” was the nickname given to Marie Antoinette by the anonymous writers of “La Carmagnole,” a song and dance that became popular in revolutionary France in 1792. Here is a version sung in French with English and Spanish subtitles:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M__nvRQehJs&ab_channel=JeffersonDavis