Sheehan's New Website Tea-bagged by the People's Cube

Great Stalin's Ghost! this is as brilliant as Lenin himself!




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This is the necessary type of attack that is so desperately needed at this time.

With the One in charge we can now begin the full frontal assault on the menace known as middle AmeriKKKa.

We need to remove the soft-socialist propaganda and begin the visual raping of the capitalist drones. It will show them the folly of their ways and the glorious and inevitable emergence of USSA.

I believe I am about to be overwhelmed with tears. Tear of joy. :')



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Brother Goody wrote:Yes, but what does this doo for us in the Black Panthers? :(

It is in tribute of the BPs, the Kings of Fisting, that makes this such a magnificent act of social discourse. We proudly look upon the time fisting was celebrated and cheered, like the 1968 Olympics. Your glorious acts have inspired millions of fisters worldwide to extend their arms as a tool of bringing about social justice.....or at least random annoyance. Fisting is a way for the uninformed who lack substantive knowledge on important issues to feel empowered and smart. The beauty of fisting is that when, and if, someone questions the fister he/she can simply raise their hands higher and scream nonsensical slogans a bit louder as a way to subvert any intelligent dialogue.




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I guess so Red.

What's amazing is the lofty goals they set for themselves.

5,000 protestors!

Poor Cindy doesn't realize that The Party™ no longer needs her and her useful idiotness is all dried up and out to pasture.
It's Next Tuesday Cindy and she's stuck on last Monday.

I do hope those evil Faux News bastards cover it though. Just imagine if the Sarah Hobgoblin interviewed Cindy.....



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Pinkie wrote:What do hell raisers do, anyway? Is that anything like a community organizer?
Community organizers start before hell raising. They pave the road.



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The Gulag Bubba Brigade will surely enjoy your blasphemous delicate parts for this! Cindy is a righteous warrior for the cause of state tyranny and a glorious Shluha vokzal'naja to boot.

Peace of the Action? I pray for a piece of HER action!



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Well, crud:

Dear Friends,

Due to an unexpected crimp in our permit, Camp OUT NOW will be erected on March 15th instead of the 13th–but we will still have St. Stephen's to sleep in that weekend.

The reason we're not setting up Camp on the 13th is that the people who are running the St. Patty's Day parade won't allow us to keep Camp up during the parade. So on Sunday during the parade, we will be passing out info and making an anti-war presence–

We will gather in Lafayette Park (across from the White House) at 10am the morning of the parade.

Those damned Irish again! They won't let gays in their parade, either, and now this!

Cindy Sheehan is about to start another anti-war camp. This one will be in Washington, and it could conceivably last for months. The problem?

“I'm kind of over the whole camping thing,” she admits.

Snippy snippy . . .

Five years and a new president later, however, Sheehan will be sleeping under the stars again, and for the same cause. Her new coalition, Peace of the Action, is launching the Camp OUT NOW! tent city at the base of the Washington Monument next week in an effort to get President Barack Obama to pull troops out of Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan immediately. (Sheehan concedes that this time around, she will rent a bedroom in which to store her belongings, take showers and occasionally sleep.)

So the tent city is still on, but as for Cindy, it'll be starched sheets, room service, free HBO, chocolate mints on the pillow, and towel animals on the bed. I hope the rest of you like waking up with nightcrawlers in your shorts and hippy bubble baths (just sit in a mud puddle and pass gas).



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But first, we've identified the culprit who kept Jon and Cindy up all night with her caterwauling that she calls singing. Meet Kathleen D. Kirwin, Esq.: ... -the-line/

For all you desperate bachelors out there, Comrade Kirwin is 55 years old, her turn-offs include being called "Ma'am," and in her spare time she enjoys Progressive law, agitating (but I repeat myself), singing, and using lots of adjectives.

DATE: March 31, 2010
Among other things, I am a national and international human rights and criminal defense attorney. But last weekend, when the Washington DC Metropolitan Police arrested me for “Crossing a Police Line” at the A.N.S.W.E.R (Act Now To Stop War and End Racism) anti-war(s)/pro-peace march in this nation's capitol, I did not flaunt or even mention my long-standing legal credentials in protest against what I knew to be an unlawful arrest. I did not want my profession to skew the results of my law enforcement encounter, one way or the other. On March 20th, I was marching with a legion of citizens from all over the country who were bringing to bear innumerable, rightful, relevant and commanding issues, not the least of which was giving powerful prominence to the horrific human cost of the wars that this country has chosen, and continues to choose, to illegally engage in all over the globe and which our erstwhile public servants in Washington deem so sickeningly fit to advance and expand regardless of how much the blood of others stains their self-proclaimed patriotic hands.

Yada yada yada then she has a Harlequin Romance-style encounter with sweet talking Officer Wilkins who plays the good cop in her encounter with the bad cop:

Clearly, the nice Officer Wilkins did not want to have any part in arresting me even though the stalemate between he and I had been firmly established. At that point, he asked me if I wanted to talk to his lieutenant. I leapt (on the sidewalk) at the chance. Whether the lieutenant had watched Officer Number Two physically grab me, I don't know. Whether he watched Officer Wilkins and me discussing the situation, I don't know. But when I approached him, he seemed to be waiting for me. Before I had even gotten too terribly close to him, he shouted at me to get off the sidewalk. I think he even put a “Ma'am” in front of his command which, even at 55 years old, is not the best way to get my attention. I figured it must be DC Metropolitan Police protocol to address the subject politely before subjecting them to unlawful arrest. It probably goes without saying that the lieutenant and I immediately engaged in a verbal fistfight.

How's a verbal fistfight go? "All right, Officer, I'm going to punch you in the nose!"

"Go right ahead, Ma'am. I'll just punch you right back!"

Yada yada yada . . .

Finally, I had pushed his testosterone level well past the brink and he was not going to let this middle aged woman emasculate him any more than I already had in front of his colleagues. He triumphantly called his underlings to “bring the cuffs.”

Off to jail she went, where she kept Jon and Cindy up all night thus . . .

I meditated and sang in my holding cell and prepared for the long haul. However, about eight hours later they kicked me out on my own recognizance even though I lived past the 30 mile limit outside DC to do so.

No doubt Cindy and Jon would've been released this quickly, too, had they followed Kathleen's lead and crooned a few rounds of "99 Bottles of Beer On the Wall." I can almost guarantee something would've happened to them around Beer Bottle No. 64, because that's usually as much as most humans can take.

Now, if you can wade through Kathleen's account without nodding off or, if you happen to be waiting in line for Obama money, actually finish it before your number is called, then you are hereby rewarded with Cindy's Concession Speech:
<br> ... -for-long/

Well, our great experiment didn't go as well as we planned here in DC. My vision was a Peace Camp that would serve the needs of the campers as far as housing and food were concerned (that part worked) and the campers would then commit aggressive acts of civil resistance (that part didn't) in the nation's capital to shut down the violent military-corporate empire that we live in. In the opinion of members of Peace of the Action, living here in the US gives us special responsibilities for stopping it.

My spidey sense is tingling with those last few words. I feel like I'm getting lectured by Uncle Ben in the front seat of his Olds.

The thing that we were hoping that would happen and never did—was that hundreds of people would stay and help us claim the camp as a permanent presence on the mall.

Good agitators are hard to find these days. It doesn't make sense, since unemployment is up, so it's not as if people have anything better to do. At least that's how the media explains the mushrooming of those annoying teabaggers. But where were all the hellraisers?

To take advantage of the energy and enthusiasm of our young people, we are planning on returning in June to set up Camp and start our actions again.
So we will be keeping the spirit of the Camp alive until the students get out of school and, hopefully, we can make a go of it in the summer.
It's really up to you—we have laid the foundation, now it's your turn to be the builders.

IOW, we're going to repackage this classic, timeworn idea and try it again with the conviction that this next time, we'll get different results!

What's the word for that again, Comrades? Or rather, what's the word for it this week? Liberalism? Progressivism? Hope and Change . . . ?[/html]



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Deer Reeder!

Was pickchurr taken at Boca Raton or Rest Pumm Beech?
Your fashion is very popurar wiff wise and ancient Froridians!



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I'm missing my Jodin fix. And I haven't heard anything really high-octane from Mark Morford recently either. It's hard living in Conservative West Texas without the nourishment of the soul that these progs offer me.