Sarah Palin, Energy Expert
Try not to hurt yourself laughing…
Go Marcy Go! Marcy Kaptur Lets Us All Know What The Bailout Is Really About
This is my rep…she ROCKS!
I pretty much agree with everything she says, I am starting to think of this “bailout” as a giant plan by the Bush administration to just get Wallstreet a golden parachute. Like the CEO’s of Enron, and the failing banks, the Bush administration has run this country into the ground, and now wants a 700 Billion dollar payout before they get out of the game.
Bush has been more or less the puppet of these big ass companies, now Bush has arranged a way to get them all a whole bunch of cash.
It’s Supposed To Be Funny, Why Am I Crying?
We can not let this happen…Please people search your heart, and realize that this person can not be in the white house (neither can John McCain).
The Greatest Unpublished Novel Of The 21st Century
There are few things in life that are truly beautiful, but with luck and a little effort you may get to experience at least one of them in a lifetime. I have been graced with a stunning piece of modern literature, first in hard copy - the result of a chance meeting with a stranger - which I read with open-mouthed incredulity; and now in electronic form, which I am now able to make available to anyone, for a limited time.
There are two conditions, though, which I am sure I can trust you to stick to:
1) Read it with an open mind and let it do whatever it does to you. Be cynical, be disgusted, be curious, it’s your head.
2) Pass the link on, but be selective, because my ISP isn’t going to be terribly happy if 100,000 people try to download a 13MB file!
That’s it. Anything else you decide to do as a result of reading it is up to you.
www.farnish.plus.com/purple_socks.doc
The link closes on 27th October 2008.
N.B. Document is in Word due to the very specific formatting - you will understand when you read it.
Relative Levels Of Guilt
I was just about on my knees having run down Victoria Avenue to try and catch a bus that would never come - these boots were made for walking, but never for running, as I had found on the first leg of my fruitless sprint from Camp Bling where I had been joining in the 3rd anniversary celebrations of this road protest site in the middle of an Essex town. There wasn’t much more I could do as I realised the last bus home had left just five minutes before; so I called up my wife to get the number of the nearest taxi firm, and then called up the taxi firm themselves so that I could get back home.
The fare came to £16, which was bad enough in itself, but for me the worst of it was that I could have got the bus had I left the camp ten minutes earlier. No matter that the driver of the bus on the way there had told me the wrong return time; no matter that our car is collecting more spider webs than grit in its tyres - well, that’s the matter, really: I have made such a personal crusade of the way I live that any diversion from the rightous path is a failure. So I feel guilty, when perhaps I shouldn’t.
It was reported in the news this week that the worst polluters in Britain are, not surprisingly in my eyes, those who carry out the highest level of superficial environmental acts - recycling, changing light bulbs, that sort of thing. Their guilt is safely put out with the recycling, whereas if you really believe in what you do then guilt is something you carry around with you, and let out of the bag each time you treat yourself to a takeaway pizza or, in my case, buy a loaf of bread rather than bake one myself.
That feeling is what keeps me going on a day to day basis; it’s very low level and, because I really do try and walk the talk, doesn’t come out very often. It’s all relative, though, and overall I feel pretty good about my life - as you should too, if you have really made some serious changes in the last year or two. After all, I don’t wake up in the morning, safe in the knowledge that what I do will cause the deaths of thousands of people; or the destruction of a tract of rainforest; or the edging up of the global temperature - I leave that real guilt to the politicians and CEO’s who, if life was at all fair, would feel that guilt bludgeon them round the head every time they opened their mouths or signed their next contract with death.
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