5339. FOUR STARS FOUND DEAD

FOUR STARS FOUND DEAD

(Hotel California)

Well, anyway, that's what I thought it said.

'My Miserable Life' was another headline that

confused me. About a girl who shouldn't have

gone there  -  stains on her dress and all the

rest. Aren't we tired of all this pomp yet?

-

And circumstance? Another damned season

of purple politics starts : to achieve nothing

but more; to amount to little but bore. I tell

you, Fred, we need a Revolution, and a real

one too. Blood in the streets, the fire klaxons

clanging. Bring out the long-blades, find me a

Chairman Mao, round up the usual suspects

but do it now.

-

I have no patience any longer for the hilarious

hinderings of the Hillaryettes, nor the stupid

twerkings of the Obama nets or the Bush kin,

or the Paulists and the Christies. Like it was

all some old fucking religion of the sadder

dimensions. Get it out. Make it wise. 'We are

all just prisoners here, of our own devise.'