Thursday, August 03, 2006

And What's a Butt Raping Without a Little Poetry?

Damn. I almost missed this.

When the moonbats have a Major Glorious Celebration in the barnyard - like a mayoral address announcing a glorious new tax hike - they need to have the proper pomp and circumstance to meet the occasion. Like a poet:

St. Paul author and political activist Carol Connolly, who was designated last month as the city's first official poet laureate, made her debut today at Mayor Chris Coleman's budget address.

She read the commissioned work titled "Poem for Aug. 2, 2006," which talks of the need for city newcomers and longtime residents to come together to deal with the challenges facing the city.

Sweet. Holy. Crap.

And if this didn't give JB Doubtless enough ammo for his ongoing city vs. suburbs war against Mitch, he can find a large cache of WMD in the poem itself. Her's my favorite part:

Our ancestral travelers left an inheritance
of colossal strength, and some weakness.
There is no escaping thunder. Rain
lashes every window. The blues singer croons,
"woke up this morning" and we did, knowing
that from our city, nearly one million of our hard-earned
dollars will be taken today to sustain an endless war.
We know the notion of no new taxes
stifles progress and strangles compassion.
We know what we do now reverberates
forward through time and space, and with
every ounce of our talent exercised,
we step up to the plate. The sun begins
to break through, and like our hometown heroes,
Dave Winfield, Paul Molitor, Joe Mauer,
and with all the good will of the St. Paul Saints,
we will hit a powerful line drive.

Swe-heet. Ho-lee. Crap.

These moonbats are so deranged - their addled brains so hard-wired to the notion that they must pay fealty to their God Government - that they turn a city budget speech into a ceremonial rite.

Ode to a Budget Address. I look forward to Connolly's next magnum opus as St. Paul's Poet Laureate (A Contemplation on Cumulative Zoning Ordinances.)

TS Eliot, wherever he is, is laughing his ass off.

In the interest of equal time, here's my poem regarding Mayor Licknob's budget address. I call it:

A LIMERICK FOR AUG. 3, 2006

There once was a mayor in St. Paul
Who had the unmitigated gaul
To say, "You'll be happy to know Flash,
"That the city needs more cash,
"So I'm going to tax the living shit out of y'all."

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