Entertainment

This week’s blog of note is No Sheeples Here!

There are few people in the world who possess the innate ability to juxtapose current events,  humor and biting commentary so adeptly in the photo-manipulation and artwork formats as Carol of No Sheeples Here! The Queen of Photoshop, Carol has amused most of us with her mad skillz at one time or another and has had yours truly slack-jawed with amazement on quite a few occasions.

Being the rabid patriot she is, Carol is also a preternatural master of political prose, possessing the ability to boil most any subject down to the root causes and strip away the chaff, showing us that she understands the subjects at hand at the visceral as well as contextual levels.

All that being said, the main reason I’m featuring her blog this week is, I just plain like her. Carol has been and continues to be one of the nicest people I’ve met on the net and one of the best humored. Although, judging from her artwork, which I must guess befits her demeanor, I wouldn’t want to tangle with The Queen.

Keep up the fine work, my friend, and I’ll keep stealing it. Deal?

Visit Carol’s site, No Sheeples Here often.

Also, check out her Photoshop repository, Mako Snark.

She also blogs at a few other great places. I would encourage you to explore her websites and find those as well. The bloggers she partners with are some of the best in the business, as I’m sure you will see.

Don’t forget to update your bookmarks and place these sites prominently in your blogrolls. You won’t regret the additions.

“Honestly,” Maggie said. “Who’s going to clean up all of this trash? These Congressmen and Senators sure made a mess in the streets when they shredded those old papers, didn’t they?”

The two were sitting on a bench across New Jersey Avenue from the Capitol Building, watching remnants of the founding documents float and flitter, tossed by a blustery wind.

They were old enough to know they weren’t welcome in that area, but still too young to give a flying fig if anyone cared. Besides, who’s going to arrest them? After the riots, the police had either quit or joined one side or the other. The patrols those days consisted of United Nations troops who wore their body armor and carried full autos. Two old homeless geezers posed no threat. The threat had come from within and now that everyone had picked sides and the civil war was on full scale, if you didn’t carry anything worth stealing, almost everyone left you alone. It’s funny how anarchy works if you don’t play a part.

The crusty pair knew they were in danger, but they somehow pushed those thoughts to the recesses of their minds. Or mayhap they knew full well, but entertained the danger like some 65 year old bungee jumpers.

“Yup, You’ve gotta hand it to ‘em. They sure know how to throw a party.” Then Maggie added, ‘You wanna head over to the park? I hear there’s a card game and I wouldn’t mind going to Andy’s Place to see some Flopping Aces by fire light.”

The old man, who had been quiet to this point, finally spoke up. “Nah, I’m tired and you know, I’m not in the mood to hear Gorges’ Grouse tonight. That guy’s always moanin’ about something.”

Hey, do you remember when I worked for Goomba News Network as a paper boy? We used to run halfway across town to have lunch at Grandpa John’s with that girl, who was it? I’ll never forget old what’s-her-name. Ha! Oh yea, Nice Deb. Anyway, we used to eat lunch at that diner, The Sundries Shack and then run over to Fishersville. Mike always loved going over there, remember? We would play that game YankeePhil made up; Track-A-‘Crat I think he called it, never made any sense, that game.”

“Yea” she said. “It was fun though. One time, I was chasing a ball and I jumped the fence into that little Backyard. Conservative couple lived there. I remember the lady yelling at me, ‘Woman Honor Thyself’ she said. Maybe I should have listened to her. Look at me now. Ah well, I never was The Thinker that you are, Harold.”

“Then how come it’s you that keeps a journal?” he asked. “You remember when we crashed the car into The Foundry? I would have given a thousand dollar bill for Paps Thoughts after we nursed that heap home that night with the busted radiator.”

“Ha! You don’t remember too well do ya?” Maggie corrected. “Pap was drunk and passed out in Carol’s Closet! He was sure pissed the next day though, ‘Not one dollar. NOT ONE RED CENT am I giving you to fix that jalopy you call an automobile!’ he said, and he meant it.”

Harold gave a couple of Sharp Elbows to the side.  “Har! *cough* Quit it. You’ll make me hack up a lung with talk like that. Heh heh.”

“There you go again, trying to bring out My Bossier side. I’m not here to coddle you mister. I’m in survival mode, don’ cha know. Now git yer ass up an’ let’s go. We’ve still got to Discover the Networks around here if we gonna stay alive in this new world. If we were still working for Paco Enterprises, the old man would be havin’ none of your sloth and I don’t mean to either. It’s going to be dark soon and we need some shelter. You know it ain’t safe in that there Capitol Building now that all o’ them Obama flies moved in.”

“Files,” He said.

“What?”

“Not flies, files. The Oh, bama FILES” He slowed it down for her. “They moved those files in there for storage. Don’t you member? That’s why come they got all them extra military types around here.”

“Yea, I remember” She mumbled. “Well what do you want to do then?”

“There’s always the Jefferson Memorial. No-one goes there anymore and I stashed a pry bar over there to open one of the lower sashes with.”

“Well, ain’t you just The Live Wyer! When were you planning on letting me in on this particular Volokh Conspiracy?” She admonished him with a not-so playful slap to the back of his head.

“Owww! Take ‘er easy there Mama, I told you didn’t I? Now let’s mosey. Those camos over there ain’t looking too friendly.”

They both got up slowly, exaggerating their age with the charade of pain that comes with practice. Act like you’re feeble and hurting and you’re not a threat. At least, that was the theory. Problem was it wasn’t far from the truth.

Harold stooped to pick up Maggie’s Notebook from the bench and they turned south toward Independence Avenue. “We’d better get moving” he said. It’ll be getting dark in a couple of hours and I don’t wanna see any o’ them Moonbatterys tonight.

The Conservative Lady began walking beside him and they picked up speed. Neither one turned to look at the guards pacing about the Capitol steps, hoping they wouldn’t follow.

“Do you remember when we had the internet Harold?”

“Yea, we were some blogging fools weren’t we?”

“That we were honey; that we were.”

“Once there were people who advanced the cause of freedom wasn’t there? Right Klik, IMAO, John Lott’s Website, Fausta’s Blog, pamibe, The Anchoress.”

“Can’t forget those excellent writers,” she said.

“Da Techguy, WyBlog, thelotusblog, Liberalguy, blonde sagacity, theblogprof,” he remembered aloud.

“Yea, and the newcomers like Libertarian Buddha and Lilac Sunday showed so much promise.”

“I know babe.”

“It’s a shame all of that is gone now.”

“Yup,” he said. “So it Goes.  In Shreveport, they’ve still got electricity, I hear,” changing the subject.

“Maybe they’ve got the internet there too,” she said.

“Heh, Who are they going to email, each other? No-one else has power.”

“You got a point there.”

They turned west onto Independence Avenue and began the mile and a half trek to the Memorial. The once scenic surroundings, majestic trees and marble facades of the historic buildings had taken on a new meaning, as if to mark the past greatness of America with some cryptic Signal.  94 blocks away, Jefferson waited for them, as patient and secretive, as he was in life. Harold and Maggie walked on astride, knowing they needed shelter before dark. The ones who roamed the night weren’t as friendly as the camos. It was best not to be seen at all after dark.

Just off the street, Maggie caught a glimpse of movement. She tugged at Harold’s arm to stop. They both looked on as a little field rabbit foraged in one of the parks along the way. Maggie wondered what the little bunni made of its new surroundings.  An Amusing Bunni’s Musings of the brave new world, she thought. No doubt the bunni was able to find more humor than they.

The pair moved on, amazingly un-accosted, finally turning left onto Raoul Wallenberg, then Maine Ave, and then right onto East Basin.

There was old Thomas, laid on his side by the rioters or some unknown force of explosion. The once mighty pillars that held his bronze likeness in a cage now lay strewn about and broken like so many logs in a forester’s harvest. Thomas was free and yet remained. It was as if he couldn’t bear to leave the home he’d become accustomed to, much like the people of the country he had a hand in founding. When it came time for them to rise to the challenge he issued 200 years ago, they forgot what price freedom demands.

Lain off to one side, an engraving remained. Words of the great American Thinker, philosopher, Architect, statesman and President:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, that to secure these rights governments are instituted among men. We…solemnly publish and declare, that these colonies are and of right ought to be free and independent states…And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honour.”

Harold remembered once more the last time he saw the memorial intact and shuddered. “How could we lose our sacred honor?” He wondered

Another dusty panel still remained as well. Harold brushed off the debris.

“Almighty God hath created the mind free…All attempts to influence it by temporal punishments or burthens…are a departure from the plan of the Holy Author of our religion…No man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship or ministry or shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief, but all men shall be free to profess and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion. I know but one code of morality for men whether acting singly or collectively.”

“Maybe one day those words will again hold meaning, Maggie.”

They crawled over and under the pillars and stones around to the side of the memorial. Harold rummaged around beneath some brush and produced the pry bar he had promised. They each looked around to make sure no-one was looking on and Harold began working on the means of entrance to their new shelter.

[Note: this is the third and last in a series of experiments in linking (Rule 2). The first two are Robo-Love Experiment #1 and Robo-Love Experiment #2. Please excuse the use of poetic license. No resemblance was meant to any real persons, Maggie especially, it just served as a convenient way to work in your blog title. I hope you don’t mind.

And my apologies for being so dark lately. It’s just my attempt to wake some folks up.]

Worth watching again, and again.


It’s time once again to revisit R.S. McCain‘s famous Rule 5 of “How to Get a Million Hits on Your Blog in a Year”. This installment will mix it up a bit. Along with some pictures of the beautiful and sexy Mandy Moore, I’m going to throw in an early music video from her other half.

Ryan Adams of the now disbanded group Whiskeytown last year landed a classy lady when he married Mandy Moore. I wonder how much the two are collaborating musically. Mandy’s music is surely maturing on her new CD and she’s beginning to shed her teeny-bopper image. I’m diggin’ it. I really like her style. Classy. She stands in total contrast to smuttiness of Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan and now it seems like Hanna Montana/Miley Cyrus, sadly may be following those footsteps. She would do well to find a better role model. Mandy would most assuredly be better than the ones she is emulating now.

Right click to open in another window or tab…

Rule 5 Sunday! Many Thanks to Smitty! and R.S. McCain of The Other McCain!

Also linked at The Classic Liberal and The Daley Gator!

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