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What I Read in the Waiting Room of Hell

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From the Tongues of Angels

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« AN UNDERSTANDING | Main | SUNDAY NIGHT ROAST AT LEFTY'S LOUNGE »

August 28, 2005

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» It ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son from Pandagon
My post yesterday on how the Shrub went from the fortunate son avoiding fighting war to the powerful ass sending the non-fortunate to war to die for oil has been picked up by a couple other bloggers who are eager... [Read More]

Comments

Amanda

Hard to leave a comment. That song says it all. I will say upon reading this post, I put the song on and rocked out around the house to it.

A commenter on my blog pointed out that Bush was actually a family connection from being President to being a name on the Vietnam Memorial. Astute observation.

Words Have Power

I posted this early in the week. It make a lie out of my blogs name. These pictures have more power than the words of George Bush and Donald Rumsfeld.

http://whpsocal.blogspot.com/2005/08/all-for-lie.html

Aaron

This is a great song.

And beautifully appropriate and descriptive of America today

Shakespeare's Sister

Ezra's written something, too, which you might want to add to the round-up, and I think Amanda has a follow-up.

ol cranky

I actually posted my Military Service "Isn't For Our Kind of People" post last Tuesday. And yes, the title comes from something a affluent, flag-waving patriotic mom said to a recruiter.

The Un-Apologetic Atheist

Long as I remember, the rain been coming down.
Clouds of myst'ry pouring Confusion on the ground.
Good men through the ages, trying to find the sun;
And I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain.

I went down Virginia, seeking shelter from the storm.
Caught up in the fable, I watched the tower grow.
Five year plans and new deals, wrapped in golden chains.
And I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain.

Heard the singers playing, How we cheered for more.
The crowd had rushed together, trying to keep warm.
Still the rain kept pouring, falling on my ears.
And I wonder, still I wonder who'll stop the rain.

-CCR

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You're a braver woman than I it was weeks before I could even begin to think about looking at the incisions from my lap. Even now I don't like to touch them.

They're...squishy.

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You're a braver woman than I it was weeks before I could even begin to think about looking at the incisions from my lap. Even now I don't like to touch them.

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It is a pity that we have to suffer and fight for the rich battle and we have to loose family and friend when they are in their huge chair looking and reading about the war.

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