Intelligence doesn't come easy for me. Gathering it is one of the hardest jobs I have as a militia general. It's difficult. It makes my head hurt. It isn't faith promoting. Every once in a while, however, I find something that makes it all worthwhile. That's what happened this morning as I did my daily read of enemy blogs.
Today, I discovered that Mac Diva, the Frenchwoman behind mac-a-ron-ies -- a blog named expressly for the purpose of mocking my manhood-- wrote about a woman named Sam who's responsible for something called Cry Me a River. I immediately fell in love with Sam's prose. It's the kind of writing that makes my conservative heart flutter with excitement. How can any right-careening heterosexual not be moved by poetry like this: "Liberals like to stick their hairy asses up out of the ground, spew their gas, drop their turds, then run back underground for cover." It's absolutely santorumian in its beauty.
That's just the beginning. In a later post, she cuts through all the hype that surrounds Jesse Jackson to point out the sad truth. People love him because he's black. It's a common problem. I'm surprised Sam is the first person to write about it. Everywhere you go, people are cutting blacks slack because of the color of their skin. Sales clerks follow them in stores in case they need something. Cops are always helping them to the ground and using billy clubs to kill any spiders that might be on there clothing. And everybody knows they get all the good pimp, prostitute, and criminal gigs in movies and TV. Sam is right. It's a black man's world.
I'm sure her beauty goes beyond her way with words. She says she's a lesbian, but that's OK. Danny Thomas was a lesbian too, but he looked like a white man and he was a Christian, and his daughter Marlo is beautiful. If I was single, I'd probably make a play for her. That is if she is as hairy and muscular as I picture her to be.
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We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.