Modified Churchill quote

we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
(we shall fight on the convention floor)
we shall never surrender

:eyes:

Isn't it clear? :eyes:

and you've got the platform pretty much nailed down.

and say she was making a mock of the very principles she claims to be upholding.

we must never allow another stolen election.

Here's a quote by Churchill that applies to you:

A fanatic is one who can’t change his mind and won’t change the subject.

- as

when Hitler called him 'an irresponsible warmonger'.

The truth is incontrovertible, malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end; there it is.

- as

...

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin' 'bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin' me see stars.
You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies.
One day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzin' around your eyes,
Blood on your saddle.

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb,
Blowing through the curtains in your room.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Ballad of a thin man, by Bob Dylan...

Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

Thanks for sharing it with us. I don't need to point out to you again that your collective chances are very, very small.

I am so tired of reading about how I have to tread softly so as to not hurt the feelings of people like you, who are more than willing to have John McCain become president.

So very tired of it. I don't expect my tender sensibilities to be the deciding factor in this election, so I sure as hell don't give a tinker's damn about catering to yours.

Go march on DC on Saturday, and scream and yell, and bang your damned cowbell.

Just wear comfortable shoes.

If you were genuinely concerned about the welfare of the party and the country and about stopping McCain you would be 100% behind Hillary Clinton and not a con artist with a resumé the size of a postage stamp.
The general philosophy of Obamism = the hopium of the masses.

Post all the drivel you care to, and enjoy.

It doesn't matter anymore, and this Saturday will end it. Not next Tuesday. That's just technical.

You will then find another web site on which to post, and to simmer with hatred about the coronation not taking place. So sad.

See ya.

n/t

Then use the right quote

"In February, Ms Clinton claimed she was going to ring Sen. Obama's throat like a chicken ...... some chicken ...... some neck!"

Now go off and worship like a good little Clintian

Hail Hillary, full of malice, Bill is with thee; unchosen art thou to be President, so cursing we'll make up a metric.
Holy Hillary, Goddess of Peace, pray for us poor folk, now and at the hour of Obliteration. Awomen.

and a drowsy numbness pains my senses
as though of hemlock (aka kool aid) I had drunk
or emptied some dull opiate to the drains.....

I Am - John Clare

I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

The Lotos-Eaters (1833)

A land where all things always seemed the same!
The mild-eyed melancholy Lotus-eaters came.

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them,
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake,
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;
And deep-asleep he seemed, yet all awake,
And music in his ears his beating heart did make
How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream,
With half-shut eyes ever to seem
Falling asleep in a half-dream!
To dream and dream, like yonder amber light,
Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height;
To hear each other’s whisper’d speech;
Eating the Lotos day by day,
To watch the crisping ripples on the beach,
And tender curving lines of creamy spray;
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly
To the influence of mild-minded melancholy;
To muse and brood and live again in memory,
With those old faces of our infancy
The Lotos blooms below the barren peak,
The Lotos blows by every winding creek;
All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone;
Thro’ every hollow cave and alley lone
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.
We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Roll’d to starboard, roll’d to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.

For 'lotus-eaters' read 'kool-aid imbibers'.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert...Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

and raise you Dylan

Farewell Angelina
The bells of the crown
Are being stolen by bandits
I must follow the sound
The triangle tingles
And the trumpet play slow
Farewell Angelina
The sky is on fire
And I must go.

There's no need for anger
There's no need for blame
There's nothing to prove
Ev'rything's still the same
Just a table standing empty
By the edge of the sea
Farewell Angelina
The sky is trembling
And I must leave.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.
-- Winston Churchill

GIVE 'EM HELL HILL!

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen."

but everyone must vote Dem because "History is written by the victors"

How sad for you.

Good luck to you.

McCain uses that in his ad. Must have been on your mind from worshipping your master.

Your candidate would not stand a snowball's chance in Hades against McCain. Your deluded support for the great pseudomessiah effectively amounts to support for a McCain presidency.

is the biggest disaster since Mondale. She couldn't campaign her way out of a paper bag. She can't manage money and she hires incompetent dolts. She trys to pander but she can't even get that right. The only thing she ever achieved was marrying a succesful man and leaching off all of his accomplishments and brilliance.

For a fucking Psuedo Messiah he sure put a licking on her sorry "experienced" ass.

licking on her sorry "experienced" ass.''
On his own he couldn't organise a successful booze-up in a brewery. He is effectively the Warren J. Harding-style patsy of the MSM, corporatists , and DNC elite who hope to use him for their own ends. If he gets the nom brace yourself for a McGovernesque implosion.
From bitter experience trying to argue rationally with someone who has imbibed kool aid is like micturating against a tidal wave.

that wrote the rules for the Primary System on your team yet you still were unable to come up with a decent strategy to win. Gross incompetence. The advantages she had going into this are the things only incumbent Presidents have.

She'd lose the campaign against McCain by epic proportions because she can't manage anything.

If she somehow did manage to get elected she would be the democratic equivalent of George Bush because she's so incompetent.

Time for her to go back to the senate and name post offices.

with more 'gates' than a builders suppliers and more skeletons in the cupboard than a medical school anatomy department.
The general philosophy of Obamism = the hopium of the masses.

1993. Enough said.

As has been demonstrated by the defeat of our Rovian darling :eyes:

she will go down in history as a great Democrat while the Anointed One at whose feet you slavishly worship is consigned to footnoted irrelevancy.

:wave:

we shall lose in the primaries,
we shall lose the pledged delegates,
we shall lose the superdelegates
we shall lose in the courtroom
we shall lose at the convention
you lost, Hillary, you lost.

What's more important - the policies or the candidate? Because if you folks continue to fight you'll be harming the chances at the policies actually becoming reality.