Comments on: Barbarians heart Sarah

By: Ananda Lamichhane

Ananda Lamichhane — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 11:35:01 +0000

I respect allways to Sarah palin.

By: daveinboca

daveinboca — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:44:03 +0000

I think I’m falling in love with Sarah! Fur does something for a woman.

By: Max Power

Max Power — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 19:49:33 +0000

Alaska! should always have an exclamation point after it!
Alaska!

By: April

April — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 17:51:38 +0000

Some of my friends went there, and they stayed. They’re still there. And I’ll bet they’re voting for McCain/Palin!

By: Randy Rager

Randy Rager — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 22:34:40 +0000

DAMN straight.

By: Real-world wisdom | Cold Fury

Real-world wisdom | Cold Fury — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 20:27:03 +0000

[...] A little reality for politics geeks, and it’s about time, too: I can’t even watch the Sunday talking head shows because you’re all like, “well, don’t forget what Ed Muskie said in the ‘72 Iowa caucuses!” and everybody busts out laughing because somehow all you Poindexters know what that means. You’re like weird Al Gore zooming across the stage barking “Dingell/Norwood!” It’s enough to make mush-mouth patrician George Bush look like an ordinary guy. [...]

By: Conservative Belle

Conservative Belle — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 18:19:30 +0000

When I saw this photo, all I could think of was that Capitol One commercial – what’s in YOUR wallet? Didn’t they have a bunch of cave men and barbarians in a few of them?

There has to be a joke here somewhere but I’m too much of a moron to think of one.

By: apotheosis

apotheosis — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 15:50:52 +0000

Alaska is a real life slice of the mythical Old West.

I always liked Robert Service’s take on the territory. And this:

When you’re lost in the Wild, and you’re scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you’re sore as a boil, it’s according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: “Fight all you can,”
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it’s easy to blow . . .
It’s the hell-served-for-breakfast that’s hard.

“You’re sick of the game!” Well, now that’s a shame.
You’re young and you’re brave and you’re bright.
“You’ve had a raw deal!” I know — but don’t squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don’t be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit, it’s so easy to quit.
It’s the keeping-your chin-up that’s hard.

It’s easy to cry that you’re beaten — and die;
It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sight —
Why that’s the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and battered and scarred,
Just have one more try — it’s dead easy to die,
It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.

Properly horrendous poetry by any progressive coffeehouse standard, I’m sure. I mean for jah’s sake, the damn thing even rhymes. How distressingly pedestrian!