Good evening, cats & kittens. While our esteemed hostess is taking a wee bit of well-deserved away-from time, I have the honor of dropping a post or two in your laps. The only things I promised her was that A) my posting would be irregular and shot through with as many typos as kernels of corns in a state fair outhouse, and, B) that I would try to pick as many pointless, peevish fights with as many of my aggressively relentless blogging brother and sisters as possible as fast as possible.
So let it be done.
Today at the Gasbag Jamboree, all the usual wind-up toy people juggled all the usual shuck and humbug.
Alex Pareene at Salon surveys the wreckage:
Watching the Sunday shows so you don’t have to
Today, some centrist pundits and legislators solved the sequester by demanding "balance" and "leadership"
Not to worry, Alex: a handful of hardy blogger Rangers have been monitoring their transmissions for years.
We watch for the One.
We snark for the One (note the young Walter White, before he became a weaponized capitalist.)
Yes, the Sunday Mouse Circus really is just as bad as you imagine.
And yes, it really is getting worse with each iteration.
See you good people later.