It's getting harder to keep this thing up every day. Between the learning curve of a new job, a longer drive each way, and ZERO online time at work (at least till I get my act together and activate that lovely Treo that Melina was kind enough to give me, and even that won't be a panacea because of my daily lunchtime constitutional, which is mandatory since I no longer have time for my morning walks during the week), carving out blog time is becoming a "Calgon, take me away!" moment. This of course also means that I haven't had the time to keep up with my fellow bloggren the way I should, so let's take a few minutes this morning and see what's on people's minds, shall we?
Before coming down with a wicked cold (and we all know how they suck, don't we? I've been getting over one for the last three weeks), Ornery Bastard weighed in on how Hunger in America isn't just for Appalachia anymore.
Driftglass consults science fiction to explain how it all went bad.
Sherry declares war on Consumer Christmas in the name of Spiritual Christmas (and thereby gives Billo apoplexy).
After having to abandon this post this morning until now, when I'm firmly ensconced on the couch watching Keith Olbermann experience the now-infamous Sarah Palin Turkey Killing Press Conference for the first time, and on a similar note, make pie with Martha Stewart, I've been lucky enough to have the always reliable but also always inexplicable Illudium Phosdex send us a link to this post by Howie Klein about how the dry drunk Captain Codpiece's imbibing of Peruvian pisco sours means that he's definitely on the sauce again. Seriously, though -- have you ever in your life seen a situation like this, in which the guy not in power yet seems to be running the show while the guy who's supposedly still running the show until noon on January 20 is off getting shit-faced plastered? And can we please remember this the next time Joe Scarborough starts talking about another Republican lightweight being the best candidate because he's a regular guy you'd like to have a beer with?
PhysioProf has yet another dispatch from the Burn Tara to the Ground File. (Can't C-Plus Caligula just decide to quit and leave in a huff? Do we really have to watch him throw an eight-week-long tantrum on his way out the door?)
The next time your wingnut friends talk about how George W. Bush has kept us safe from the terrorists, send them over to this Blue Girl post, which puts the reality of 47 million uninsured Americans into horrifying perspective.
Can't we just call it "Jackie Robinson Stadium" now and avoid the whole "Shitty Field" bad jokes? I mean, I'm a Mets fan and all, but I really don't think naming rights to the new Mets ballpark is the best use of a taxpayer-funded bailout.
DCap remembers November 22, 1963.
That's it for now, folks. Gotta go get my beauty sleep, and at my age, that's one hell of a lot of sleep.
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