Friday, March 16, 2007

my home state's song is way sexier than your home state's song. also, way less politically correct

"Maryland, My Maryland," written in 1861 by James Ryder Randall and set to the tune of "O Tannenbaum." Also referred to as "the Marsellaise of the South." The "despot" would be Abraham Lincoln. We sang this in elementary school.

You must read all the way to the end. It is some seriously hot stuff. Huzzah!
The despot's heel is on thy shore,
His torch is at thy temple door,
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Hark to an exiled son's appeal,
My mother State! to thee I kneel,
For life and death, for woe and weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird they beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust,
Thy beaming sword shall never rust,
Remember Carroll's sacred trust,
Remember Howard's warlike thrust,-
And all thy slumberers with the just,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day,
Come with thy panoplied array,
With Ringgold's spirit for the fray,
With Watson's blood at Monterey,
With fearless Lowe and dashing May,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong,
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong,
Come to thine own anointed throng,
Stalking with Liberty along,
And chaunt thy dauntless slogan song,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain,
Virginia should not call in vain,
She meets her sisters on the plain-
"Sic semper!" 'tis the proud refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
Arise in majesty again,
Maryland! My Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek,
For thou wast ever bravely meek,
But lo! there surges forth a shriek,
From hill to hill, from creek to creek-
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll,
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland! My Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum,
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! she burns! she'll come! she'll come!
Maryland! My Maryland!


Wednesday, March 14, 2007


Thursday, March 08, 2007

because i love a good catch 22 reference

I don't know if any of you have heard about the problems with Walter Reed Army Medical Center — in a nutshell, the bullies who have been running this country, spouting "support our troops" platitudes and attacking anyone who doesn't agree with them about their bloody, pointless wars as a spitter-on-of-veterans, have been either knowingly or negligently consigning many injured veterans of Iraq and other wars to a medical facility which just might have been considered state-of-the-art if it were located in Atlanta, Georgia in September 1864.

And now it turns out that at least two Senior Republicans in the House knew about the conditions at Walter Reed, and though they claim to have "[gotten] in [the hospital commander]'s face on a regular basis" (to no effect, of course) — well, I'll just let C.W. Bill Young, R-Fla., former chairman of the House Appropriations Defense Subcommittee, give it to you in his own words:
“We did not go public with these concerns, because we did not want to undermine the confidence of the patients and their families and give the Army a black eye while fighting a war,” Young said.
When your reasoning for not helping actual injured war veterans is literally lifted straight out of the pages of Catch 22, it is probably time to get yourself checked for irony poisoning. But, hey, if you end up testing positive, Mr. Young, I know of a great medical facility where I'm sure they could knock that right out for you. I've heard this particular facility is "committed to providing ... the very, very best medical care that is possible." Two verys! Did you see that?

Oh, and let me not forget to mention that Lieutenant General Kevin C. Kiley, the hospital's former commander, the one in whose face these two Cathcarts so frequently got, is now the Army's Surgeon General.

(story first seen here)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


Twice today I've had the experience of happening upon an older post at one of the blogs I read in which the blogsmith encourages a specific subset of his/her readership to take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.

And I am feeling left out.

So here's a message for all of you out there who, I don't know, enjoy eating pink jellybeans: Why don't you go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut? And additionally, why don't you go take a flying fuck at the moooooooon?

Sunday, March 04, 2007

one-liners: flavor: depression with juvenility swirl

All right, so, I will start by admitting, all confessional-like, that a few minutes ago I started to fill out a MySpace survey, out of a desperate longing for human contact (yeah, I am jonesing hard for the human touch at the moment, but can only really handle it one-sided and through the sanitizing medium of the internet) — but then I realized, hey! There is an option that will make me hate myself less when I'm done! Probably! So here you go, folks.
  • I’ve been incredibly depressed all day. So depressed that I’ve decided to listen to The Gothic Archies in the hope that silly, theatricalized despair will cheer me up. This is probably a terrible idea which will end with me curled up in the corner like a goddamned pill bug.
  • But: I love this White Ninja even more than I love tater tots. And if you don't think that is a lot, then y'all, we should have a coffee sometime and get to know each other.
  • Here are some instructions on how to turn the tables on that vagina dentata, boys.
  • This video, I don’t even know, it’s just so distressing, but it’s also giggle-inducing, so it makes it onto the list today.
  • Likewise.
  • Stephen Colbert says that this is the most poetic thing he's ever heard.
  • Ha! You probably thought that last item marked the beginning of a shift in the tone of this list, but it didn't. No, no, it most certainly didn't.
  • To wit.
  • Here's an announcement about me: I have made myself a solemn promise that from here on out, I will be more Flashdance in my daily life. Because it’s good to have goals, and this is one I feel like I might just be able to meet.
  • Oh look, it's another kitty with supertoes.
  • Pop quiz! Yay! What Morrissey/Smiths lyric would you most like to have on a t-shirt? Mine is "If you ever need self-validation / Just meet me in the alley by the railway station."
  • Sloth vs. Anteater: Samurai.
  • And this I just think is incredibly cool. I wish I could read Russian so that I could figure out where this is. And go live there.
  • So how much do you know about how to prevent sexual abuse and abduction? Oooh, a lot. Like don't call it a "virginia," call it a "vagina."
  • This video, if you can just clench your teeth and power through the cringing, is I swear to god the sweetest thing you've ever, ever seen in your life. It pretty much made me cry like a baby. It's possible that was just the depression, though, because an exhibit at the Natural History Museum consisting entirely of tiny lights meant to represent stars also made me cry today.
  • Aaaaand I just realized I've had Nutella all over my face for the past three hours. Yeah, that's about right.
  • So, so. Okay. I'm ending with a nice thing:


Pink Frankenstein, that-a-way.

(Taken just outside the Natural History Museum. Thanks for operating the camera, Shosh.)