21 Jul 2008
reactionry
Prague, Schlag, Polyprag - Whatevah
Or: Wearing A Madame O'Hair Shirt
Or: A Sorry Story of O
Or: Masayrk & The Messiah
Or: Sam Nunsuch
While I catch only the occasional snippet of the Beeb on NPR, it seems reasonable to assume that while it favors loosening restraints on Muslims, it is a cheerleader for the busy bodies who attempt to micro manage
(Pardon me, Guv'nor if that is an annoying Americanism) the lives of loyal citizens. So, by all means necessary, wake up and smell the Kaffee, Brits, and carry out the First Defenestration* of the Polypragmonic.
By the way and sweet bye and bye, while I wouldn't throw a cute, dimpled baby atheist out the window with the bath water, I have to wonder if said scion is the "father" of the "man atheist" or of the "boy atheist." To the extent that I've thought about atheists at all, I've had an image of the straw, or hollow, O'Hair sort. (If the "Hairy Thunderer" has a flair for the dramatic (if I avoided cliches, I'd be pretty much stuck with Lillian Hellman's (ht. Mary McCarthy) "and" and "the" or "hoi" (ht to John MJ)), Ms. Madalyn O'Hair will be reincarnated in some ghastly real-life Oh! Calcutta! setting) Those who believe that science doesn't have all the "answers" (oops waxing Tom Friedmannish) and allude to the "mystery....of things..." strike this untutored and unrusticated one as godamm agnostics. Unlike Hugh, and perhaps due only to a different genetic endowment with respect to fear, hate, hope, etc., I'm far from "perfectly content" with the whole kit and conundrum. So, (not that anybody's asking) am I an agnostic? "I don't know" is a little glib; three little words, which might be used by Mr. Fitzgerald "now for something completely different", might be better: I hope not.
* While it's "devoutely to be wished" (I think that Hugh made a choice to echo an echo of a Buckleyism) that there exists a caring higher power, it's darntootin sure as shootin' that it (assuming that it exists) chose not to ensure that Masaryk didn't dash his foot upon a stone.
Well; enough cheap shots, sophomoric blather, and speaking Schlafly, if not carrying a big cross, for now; except for ruing not having posted the National Lampoon parody title, Nun Dare Call It Treason. Which maketh me think of the Maryknoll Stalinista Sisters. May they burn in Hell; well, for awhile, anyway.