rhetoricpig

Shizuo VS. Shizor- Sexual High and New Kick
Good news is that the wart on my foot seems to be gone. Thank god. Me? A wart!? Bad news is that 400,000 deaths is not improbable as the immediate effect of the tsunami. I mean it adds up when you have islands full of people disappear. Here's just two, Meulaboh had ~150,000 people on it, and Pulau Simeuleu had ~76,000 people. And if you think to yourself '76,000 brown people', then you may need to have a little self-reflection time. Here'sa article. And here's video after video of the tsunami.
It may suprise dear reader to find that piggy spends as little time as possible with this particular subject.
The research above was gathered by an outside non-pork firm.

Please don't leave rhetoricpig for the morbidity's sake, if you need to (and I can definitely understand if you do) just take some time off and tune in, in say, a week. I'm sure it'll all've blown over by then.

And please, DO NOT, send me videos of people getting run over crossing the street. Be they pizza men, with boxes, or with umbrellas. NO.

I was younger, how can you deny the attraction of a man wearing a chicken bucket on his head, and whom never takes off his halloween hockey mask. What does the future portend. Let me shake my magic eightblog. It says Lobotomizer (the scariest rollercoaster ever) by Bucketheadland. Hrmm, more confusion.
This post is completely truncated from it's original form. But it's original form made rhetoricpig uncomfortable. Let me share just a bit.

Oh f*ck! F*ck you! F*ck me! Neither of us come here for the reinforcement of archetypes, manly, sensitive, or otherwise.

*oink*

Are You Afraid To Die by Red Allen and Frank Wakefield off of Acoustic Disc's The Kitchen Tapes from their Acoustic Archive Series. Here's the site.

Crying Heart Blues by Red Allen and Frank Wakefield off of Acoustic Disc's The Kitchen Tapes from their Acoustic Archive Series. Here's the site.

My post's title calls for me to say nothing, but...

What can ya' say about 120,000+ dead? Nothing, that's what. Death calls on all, be they hip or not. What is there? Try to live without too much fear of death? And hope the actual dying part doesn't take too long?

I should've stuck with f%cking nothing. Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing.

I don't know about you, but I personally was real busy trying not to be crazy, anxious, angry, or depressed before these deaths of biblical proportions. .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... .......... That's one hundred and twenty periods. The adult human body holds about 5 litres of blood. Averaging half that for the third children, we get an average of 4 litres of blood per body. That's about one aught six gallons. A cubic meter holds a thousand litres. 120,000 people, that's about 2,520 fifty-gallon drums of blood. That's like if every one of your CDs became a giant barrel of blood.

I apologize for this post. I hope I released something rather than ignited something.

The Blues Had A Baby- Brownie McGhee

That's #1 off Blues Is Truth. I gave ya seven through nine and the rest'll come. I saw a nice Brownie on the counter at Keep The Coffee Coming. And let me tell ya, I just beamed with respectability to be in such company.

Don't worry this is a fast-fading evanescence which shines from within. Sh!t, that's wordy and a downer.

White Boys (Can't Control It)-Boy George and Culture Club

So my friend. Yes, I have one friend. So my friend says that my recent news round-up was leaning left. I know, I know, I worried about such as I wrote it. Gawdam, this white boy can't control it!
I thought all the conservatives wanted was to be left alone. But here in the states they've been dancing around like coked-up elves, saying crazy, loud sh!t and throwing their doughy weight around in a most injudicious manner. But don't you worry your pretty little head anymore, dear reader. Rhetoricpig will have 'what for' to give to the whiny and self-important, role-playing left.
So Michael Jackson continues to try to clear his name by spending as much time as possible with little children. Hmmm, good idea? Remember the TV special on Jacko. The one by Basheer(sic) that caused an uproar and was just a bit before his indictment. There was much disturbing to be found. Much. But I have a favorite that no one has mentioned. And I am still disturbed. Ay. You will remember or can imagine many camera pans of MJ's paintings and artwork. One painting was one of Bill Clinton and Michael. The composition is strange, they are very close and Michael is slightly lower. Michael looks 'different'. Michael looks... more feminine. Michael has his hair exactly like Jacqueline Onassis Kennedy, Jackie-O! AND he's wearing one of those first lady suits! Off-pink! See, dense reader, Bill Clinton and his wife Michael Jacquelson! Oh whatever. It doesn't seem that extraordinary now or worth all these valuable typed pixels.

Kinky Kingdom-The Egyptian Lover

And I find an Egyptian Lover record on cd that I didn't know existed. But that is not why I'm agog. Click on this page and read the reviews submitted by the skate kids. I quote:

It is quite obvious from listening to this CD that The Egyptian Lover is adjusting to the signs of the times.

Just in case you don't know it I'll drop the bomb. The Egyptian Lover is not a contemporaneous artist. *oink oink*

Tool-Part Of Me
Ween-Bumb'ebee live-This is hilarious, they ar so f*cked up. So f*cked up.
The Chemical Brothers-Get Up On It Like This
Pat Benatar-Love Is A Battlefield
Michael Utley and Robert Greenridge-Reverend Wong's Walk-Check that out, Greenridge is a traditional steel drum drummer and Utley comes equipped with a host of analog drum machines.

Maybe it's a news round-up?

Here we go.

Bush threatens Syria about turning over some Bathists.
China states that Taiwan is keystone to it's national sovereignity, and will be treated as such.
Bush ups arms sales to Taiwan.
North Korea says that it retains first-strike (nuclear?) capability and rights if American troop strengths in the region continue to rise. They continue to rise.
Brussels rules that Prime Minister Sharon of Israel can be tried as a war criminal in abstensia. But not till he's out of office.
Palestinians report that an Israeli sniper purposefully assassinated a little girl as she sat at her desk at school miles away. How the eff do you deal with a straight-faced claim like that?
Bush renominates most of the higher level judicial nominees that failed to make it out of comittee in his first term.
Bush pledges first 15 then 35 million dollars for earthquake and tsunami victim aid. Not including security Bush will spend 40 million dollars on the festivities of his inauguration.
For the first time in 15 years international aid agencies place Russia in a 'NOT FREE' column.
Russian President Putin announces Russian supernuke that will make missile defense systems useless.
Bush continues to fill his disappearing cabinet with overt industry insiders.
People make a big deal about Bush taking two percent of the national yearly Social Security intake and giving it straight to Wall Street. Bush pretends this is what he campaigned on.
China and Russia sign pacts and make plans and hug.
Mongolia which is between them sends more troops to Iraq.
Nobody white cares about Iraq.
Australia has astounding national elections prior to America's. The right has big wins. The left has huge losses. But most noteably, the Far-Left has goodly sized wins.
Israel says talks are stalled as long as Palestinians demand the right of return for billions and billions of refugees.
Israel says it will dismantle settlements.
Israel builds new settlements far inside the occupied territories and names them after existing settlements proper ie. Los Angeles Two.
It's been proven, Rumsfield was lying when saying that the armor factory was taxed to the limit. No one cares.
The French do some horrible things. But on a smaller scale.
Iraqi and Afghani farmers are legally obligated to abandon heritage seeds and buy seeds from American agricultural conglomerates.
A large oil spill in SOME river SOMEWHERE inland in the Eastern U.S. gets no publicity.
A number of South and Central American countries flirt with liberal political philosophies and start to get way too uppity for their britches.
Iran says its gonna do what it wants to do, that it wants nukes and doesn't want to let US spies in to snoop around.
Colin Powell goes on his 'I'm a useless lameduck' tour of the whole entire world.
Chief Justice Antonin Scalia says he likes orgies. That's old news.
DC and Marvel sue someone because they own the word 'superhero'.
After kicking it around for a while Bush decides he has a use for a weakened but not dead United Nations.

And a bunch of other stuff just flitted out of my head.

Oh and that's a pic of Pairy. With a stick.

Of course you can except Black Sabbath's Paranoid from my discussion. Actually my thesis is crumbling around my ankles like the little stick buildings of so many Fraggles. But I am an R.J. Dio fan and given my demeanor am more apt to listen to this Sabbath tune, The Mob Rules, than to Paranoid. *big piggy oinks*

I think this is a snappy tune. UB40 and 808 State pair up to do One In Ten.
A rhetoricpig story. Say eight or nine years ago I went to this Hollywood goth techno club. It was at a place called 7969 (I think) and the club was named Stigmata. The tvs playing hardcore porn spliced with autopsy and car crash footage were something else (not something good). But wait, this was no ordinary night at Stigmata, there was a star performer. Let me paint the picture. Out comes a guy that looked like me, tall, baggy, hat. And he wheels with him a pedestal. It's pink by the way and has a man affixed to a pole atop it. Actually the man is entirely coccooned in duct tape. Except for his mouth which contains a very uncomfortable fellating device. So the baggy guy climbs up on the pedestal. He removes from his back pocket a large pair of scissors. The baggy guy proceeds to cut the man? out of his coccoon. Man? because the genitals are hidden by the surrounding skin having been bunched together and sewn up with coarse black thread. Oookay. So the baggy guy cuts out the mouth device and they have a big wet kiss. A needle and thread appears and the star performer proceeds to bloodily sew his mouth shut. Ehngh. Then he turns around, bends deep, and proceeds to remove long strands of large black beads from his ass. Ungh. So. I'm a pussy. I got dizzy and nauseous and left.

Zero Response survey is pending trademark. And my vote is for red wine, merlot specifically. Effete = decadent: marked by excessive self-indulgence and moral decay. That's you.

I find this song to be a bit tedious but it is a good point of departure. I always thought that vocoders and analog drum machines should stage a big comeback, I never thought they would. Tired of being batted around the head, I turn around to find this big blunt object called 'electro'. I may be mistaken and it's still dawning on me, like an ostrich egg cracking on my head in slo-mo. Did you know you can identify an lp with an analog drum track by looking for a spiral pattern made by the grooves. Tis true.

This seems to rhetoricpig to be one of most obviously sampleable ditties around. But alas it has yet to come to be. Here's Bob McGrath with Why Choose To Be Afraid. As I said, I may be biased. The first and almost only beat I ever made (with just a tape deck and one turntable, for shame) starred this song.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Big hugs from the piggy.

This is a trademark rhetoricpig whine about my underappreciated last post. It was serious blues with a good pic of my record in most ill-repair. Waah!

Here's the first three songs off the second side of Brownie McGhee's Blues Is Truth. Mean and Evil, 'Woman, you're mean and evil, you can't sleep in a bed at night.' Wine Sporty Orty. Blues Is Truth. Can you see the writing on what's left of the backcover? It's an autograph from Brownie.

Best wishes to Amy
Brownie Mc Ghee
8-17-77

This doesn't suck though I don't know the utility of the wishes of a bluesman as legitimate as Brownie Mc Ghee. It's on Blue Labor Records which is interesting, as are a few of the names of the bandmates. We've got Bobby Foster, Louisiana Red, Sammy Price, Sugar Blue, Alex Blake, Jim Robinson, and my fave, Brian Brake.

Or maybe you don't like to listen to Christmas music. Why would you? Here's Patti Smith's Rock and Roll Niggar. I know, I know, it's played out from Natural Born Killers. But really, have you listened to it enough? If you don't think it's an impressive piece of work, let me know.

Mp3s later. Soon.

rhetoricpig truth of the day: Dissent is not a right, it is an action only TAKEN.
So all the whining is a bit dishonest, if understandable.
MC Chris-F*ckin' Up My Christmas. Hip hip hooray for that song!
People are talkin' about pitching off the shackles of the electoral college system. Naah. Have you read Warren Ellis' Transmetropolitan comic? This endearing cyber-hell precludes an absence of the electoral college. Who wins THE city wins the election. Period. While my blog brethren in the large apple may chomp at this bit, I still say nay. I just lost my oomph, so, exit stage right.

And hopeful. Thanks, and welcome.
In it's entirety, here is New Edition's Christmas All Over The World.
1. Give Love on Christmas Day
2. It's Christmas (All Over the World)
3. Happy Holidays to You
4. All I Want For Christmas (Is My Girl)
5. The Joy of Christmas
6. Singing Merry Christmas

New Edition's Christmas wish is that we all try to help the poor and hungry during this holiday season.

-New Edition

Yea. Or at least be nice. At least to yourselves.

Padre Conejo translates as Father Bunny. Though there is little bunny-like about him. This upload problem is damn annoying.

An eency-weency post. Only two mp3s, one real and one fake. The McKenzie Brothers sing us The Twelve Days of Christmas. And Sammy Davis Jr. sings My Love Is As A Tank. I may have another festive post if I can find my New Edition Christmas record.

Like the fifteenth century. So give him a break.

More fake mp3s-covers and unreleased tracks

Einsterzende Neubauten-Tijuana Taxi
The Smothers Brothers-Niggaz4life
Pink Floyd-Tuesday Is Ass-Shave Day
Catherine Zeta Jones-Superstar and Ticket To Ride
Grace Slick and Jefferson Starship-Where's My D!ck
Jimi Hendrix-How A Bill Becomes A Law
Dean Martin-Put Her In The Buck

Man, that's alot of fake tracks.

mp3s
Charles Aznavour-Slap Your Bitch Up
Eartha Kitt-Milkshake
John Ashcroft Sings-F*ck Your Sister
Burl Ives-Trow The D
Jay-Z-Take This Hammer

Yea, sike. Go to my last post

And let me give you a digital expression of a dastardly piece of wax, The Boyz In The Hood by N.W.A.. And two actual pieces of jazz I really like, very rare. Not the pieces, that I like jazz. John Haley Sims and Harry Sweets Edison on the great Pablo label do Nature Boy and How Deep Is The Ocean. And just somethin' else. 1.6 band's Back In Church.
I had a dream. Not my normal dream where I can't breathe or walk and I'm pulling myself along the ground by my fingers. I had a dream of the farflung future, a millenia or more away. Some dudes and foxy ladies sitting around on beanbag chairs talking about their impressive classic record collections, so I jump right in and they've never heard of ANYTHING I mention, nothing, not a thing. It's like the music never existed, and more importantly, where is my dream self gonna get a copy of Nils Lofgren's No Mercy? He's not. It was not a good dream. But I'm so used to constant bad dreams, um.... There will be no post of No Mercy as my copy is the tip top peak of my 'to be replaced even by buying it' list.

Now for the journalistic critique. But first allow me to clarify a confusion about Americans, as one I will speak for them all. Americans are accused of being ignorant, malicious, and stupid. While these criticisms are understandable, none of these are the causative elements to the symptoms of Americans acting ignorant, malicious, and stupid. The cause is.....we don't care, we may be the most externally indifferent society ever, we really don't care about OTHER people, we have our government to take care of our messy stuff so we can jacuzzi. We don't care. And those we seem to care about, enemies, aren't real, but funhouse mirror foils. Just more looking at ourself. I should know, you may have noticed I have personal issues with indifference and empathy.

Now the critique. Here's the meat. Everyday the indy news media outlets are doing a very good job documenting story after story of war related brutality, of the combat type or the interrogative torture type. New pictures, (oh god new pictures, the one of the guy with one, just one, leg gnawed down to clean gleaming white tibia and femur was like a real-life zombie cartoon), new witnesses, new participants, new reports (did you know 'a weapons-free zone' is the delineation used to identify a zone where a soldier is free to do as they please with their weapon? No sh!ttin'.), all sorts of sensational nasty sh!t.

So what's the problem, that all sounds like bleeding leading gristle for the mill. The news mill. NOPE. It's all old stories. Two stories to be precise. Abu Gahraib and torture, gotcha. We're not outraged, just good listeners. And please, when you insist on elucidating on a story don't expect the same or more reaction as the first time. You know the time with all the really good pictures. Go here-Do A Lynddie-I think it's an effing riot.

Back to the news. So you were telling me about the battlefield brutality. AGAIN. Gotcha, blown up hospitals, forcing civilians into a combat zone, executions. Gotcha. Gotcha, Gawd damn I got it. I'd really like a new news item.

Do you get it? Elucidation, repetition, big neon bloody child graphics, none of it will change the fact that we don't care. We didn't care. We don't care. And we're certainly not going to care. So please let's get some new news going. Ideally somethin' about an intern.

There is one scratch on the NWA track.

And now.
Rhetoricpig's Best Book Of The Millenium Award, for the millenium between 1001 and 2000.
And the winner is......
G.K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday.
Congratulations G.

Here's some old Big E. Smalls. Groupies by Mel-O, Notorious B.I.G., and Frank White. Music House Ent.. It's dirty. If ya know the year let me know.

Oh, and the Mp3 tease I did four posts ago was side one of Pete Townshend's Empty Glass. Ya lazy busters.

I wish I lived in London, if only to have someplace to go dancing. Glitch, grime, electro, slimy old house, it's all better than what I can find in LA. I got gabbahouse, hardcore, reggae, acidjazz, trance, goa trance, ambient techno, Mexican house, bad gay techno, more jazzy house, drum circles, and the swill that passes for eighties music.

Hardcore's not that bad, if I were on different drugs. Or a decade or more younger. And if I were gay or Mexican I might feel like there were tons of venues.

I forgot the most prevalent type of club music, 'pay 40 dollars to get in and wear a shiny shirt', soulless house. I'm not sure of it's exact genre title.

No mp3s 'round these parts, pardners. But watch this space for some upbeat musical offerings. That, or more explosive diarrhea.
Hmph. Well there, I could probably think of worse things to have said. Given time.
Just go.

And populist rule in South Africa just keeps getting better and better. Hey, buddy would you like to buy a flamethrower for your car?

The Baycity Rollers-Saturday Night
2 Live Crew-Get The F_ck Out Of My House

The city is Cape Haiti, and blue helmets are the UN. The good guys. Pshh, everyone's dirty and populist organizations don't work.

I know, you're nice, and your group gets alot done.

I bet your group doesn't deal with direct violence. And populist groups that do are hoping to play on some group's desire to feel good about themselves, ie we can see a disparate reaction to Indian individualism from China (free Tibet, they're slaughtering monks) and the UK (the East Indian Tea Company doesn't run India anymore, does it?).

Or lots of money. Does your successful populist organization deal with large sums of money? What if a million dollar opportunity arose? Would your group fall apart or immediately transform into something a bit less palatable?

Please. Tell me I'm wrong.

Rhetoricdog says, "Rime a rancer."

Heh, mp3 tease. Side one of what I consider to be one of my favorite rock records ever is at the bottom.
Allow me to quote from Admiral Dick's letter:

I am happy that the sound common sense of a majority of America's voters resulted in a solid victory for a true patriot-and in the humiliating defeat of a lying TRAITOR.

Yeehaw! C'mon, I've gotta share, he sends me a number of these things.
Here it is in it's entirety. No, I do not endorse this view. And why? When are you gonna get such a nice close-up view of your sworn enemy's squirming, spitting, rosacea-covered, puffy face? Enjoy.

"Pardon Me While I Gloat" by Rear Admiral Richard "Dick" Van Orden

I am not normally a cheerful loser or a gracious winner. Whether its tiddly-winks or war at sea, I want to win, win, win! In fact, I hate to lose and when I win I sometimes want to rub the loser's nose in his defeat. After a sleepless night I feel just rotten enough that the past six months of lies and innuendos from the Kerry camp have it all come home to make me more vindictive than usual. As a result, I want to gloat.

Here's why:

I am happy that the sound common sense of a majority of America's voters resulted in a solid victory for a true patriot-and in the humiliating defeat of a lying traitor. There was no doubt in my mind that Bush's truthfulness and forthrightness would prevail against the lies and half-truths of Kerry and his supporters, and I am pleased that a majority of good folks saw the light and pushed the Bush/Cheney button for justice and for increasing support for the nation's bright future.

I am pleased that the left-leaning media-newspapers, radio, TV and newsmagazines-got their bell rung, but good. Now we are assured that these self-appointed "opinion makers" cannot pull the wool over the eyes of most of us, no matter how hard they twist the facts. Their early reporting of the "leaked" fraudulent exit polls, and their sponsorship of other badly skewed voter polls were designed to mislead voters, in which they failed-miserably. And Dan Rather deserves a special place in hell.

I am delighted that the fat, disgusting a-hole, Michael Moore did not achieve the success that he wished for and that he was repulsed by so many intelligent Americans. May his soul burn in hell.

I hope the Hollywood friends of Michael Moore-especially Barbara Streisand, Whopi Goldberg, P-Diddler, and their friends-are roasting in the hell of their own making. It seems to me that they all offered to depart the U.S if Bush won the first time, which they did not do. The time is now doubly ripe for their exit.

I am blissful that all the treasure and invective of George Soros devoted to defeating George Bush went for naught. I only wish for a financial future of similar poor decisions by Soros; I want to see him as bankrupt in bank account as he is in patriotism.

I find it particularly satisfying that the high ranking military suck-ups whose lack of integrity led them to desert their commander-in-chief and follow a lying cheat, even though they knew, or should have known, that his dismissal from the Navy was "less than honorable," as detailed in the military record that he refused to release. It is sad that such Navy types as Bill Crowe, Stan Turner, and even Jimmy Carter would be in that group. It is obvious that their motivation was the hope of a cushy job when their new-found knight in shining armor moved into the White House. Even their strategy was flawed, for Kerry is, and always has been, anti-military; he only used his military service-and those military "advisors"-for personal political gain. He would never have offered that cushy job, once he had used them, just as he never voted for the needed armament that they and their shipmates and their Marine Corps, Army, and Air Force brothers-in-arms needed so badly.

I am thrilled that the whiners, especially Robert Harris and his ilk, who have complained bitterly about the "stolen" 2000 Presidential election must leave that fallacy in the past and now try to find something else to whine about-maybe they can even develop a fantasy that the four million vote plurality was a miscount, and continue their whining as they slink away into their caves.

It pleases me that Kofi Annan and the other United Nations sycophants failed miserably when they tried so hard to influence this election to ensure that a more pliable President Kerry would be elected. I hope they will now realize that either they clean up the bureaucratic, corrupt, do-nothing UN, or they will be short of funds when the Bush-led US decreases-or ends-its support.

I am overjoyed at the failure of Osama bin Laden's carefully timed video of invective against the US and its President in hopes of using Islamic scare tactics on the American people. Bin Laden's aim was to entice our voters to elect a new President who will not be as robust in his pursuit of terrorists and more willing to "negotiate" with Islamic Fundamentalists. He did not understand that Americans are not so panicky as the French, fearful as the Spanish, or unthinking as the English. (As for the Germans, they should know better; we have defeated them in battle often enough to convince them of the rightness of our ways.) I hope Osama dies in a blast from a bunker-buster before he gets a chance to make another video or another attack on our nation.

The blatant attempts of European nations and the EU to cause our President discomfort in his efforts to bring peace to the world make me glad that they are so disappointed with the election results. My joy is unbounded at the chagrin of the French and German and other anti-Bush, anti-American nations (including the people of the UK-but not their loyal and faithful government led by Prime Minister, Tony Blair). Now let those U.S.-sheltered Europeans worry about the end of American financial and military assistance when they have problems. Let them beg for American military aid and other handouts that have helped to sustain their economies. And let them perish in their own sweat when we remove out troops from Germany, the Balkans, and other trouble spots where we have pulled their chestnuts out of the fire.

I relish the hope that Islamic fundamentalists will now understand the election result as a blow from which they cannot recover. It fills me with joy that their dreams of world domination will be shattered by Bush's and the American nation's resolve to see them defeated and sent to join their Allah-without the 72 virgins waiting for them.

It pleases me more than I can say that the Senate Minority Leader, Thomas Daschle lost his seat. As the leading obstructionist for the Democrat party, he was primarily responsible for withholding approval of many Bush appointments to Federal judgeships, high-level positions, and other necessary personnel. Good riddance.

The demise of the junk-yard dog, loudmouth James Carville, also brings me great happiness. That happiness is further enhanced by the victory of the first Republican to win a Senate seat in Louisiana, Carville's home state.

I am delighted with the success of John O'Neil and his Swift Boat Vets-and with those thousands of non-Swifties who joined with them-on their forthright revelation of the truth of Kerry's service in Vietnam. They took a truthful but difficult position and made an impact-good and honorable Navy men all. Bush gets gentlemanly credit for not using them and their data in his campaign to demean Kerry, but the word was out that they spoke the truth. I maintain that they were the MVPs of this election; their testimony turned the tide against Kerry, and he never recovered.

And, finally, I must express my unbounded gratification at the defeat of Senator Kerry, a worthless Senator, anti-military extremist, lying self-promoter, and former Naval officer who disgraced us all. His traitorous collusion with the enemy is second only to that of Jane Fonda. He should have been court-martialed for giving aid and comfort to the enemy in time of war. His dishonorable quest for medals and a quick return to the US, where he turned against his shipmates and lied about their actions resulted in a less than honorable separation from the Navy. Jimmy Carter's amnesty allowed him to file for, and get, an honorable discharge 18 years after he left the service. He should have received a court martial.

While my thoughts may seem to be mean-spirited, do not be confused-they really are mean-spirited, as I mean them to be. I have suffered the tortures of the damned over the past year as I heard and read the lies and nasty remarks from politicians, citizens, and media "experts" about our President. I have barely tolerated the feeble but divisive attempts of foreign and domestic peaceniks to build a case against our war on the Islamic fundamentalists, who use terrorism as a weapon against us in order to intimidate our citizens and drive some of our gutless politicians to seek "negotiations" to avoid "confrontations" with those who seek to kill our citizens.

Most of all, I have seethed with anger at those who shamefully derided our military, blissfully reporting on their failures and neglecting their successes. They triumphantly celebrated our difficulties by running daily body counts of our own heroic men killed in battle with the enemy, even publishing their pictures in papers and on TV as if to mock the President who sent them to defend our nation. I have only disgust for such tactics. And those are the very same people who now plead for "united actions" in the House and Senate, now that they are in a steadily declining minority. I would advise our President to "watch your six" because these are really enemies and they are not to be trusted.

Four more years! How sweet it is!

Okay....
So there's the comment button. I'd rather you yell about the piece than at me, but whatever ya' need to do.
Worth the wait and the wade through the hate.
1980 Warner Records, Pete Townshend's Empty Glass
Side one
1. Rough Boys
2. I Am An Animal
3. And I Moved
4. Let My Love Open The Door
5. Jools And Jim

You'd best love that. Side two later. Really, please leave a comment, especially if you don't adore me and my choices.
Come again.

Mini rhetoric-3 seconds. Have ya' heard of the Royal Gigolos? Here's No Milk Today Guitar Mix, Happy Song, Somebody's Watching Me, Self Control, and California Dreamin'. I love sleazy music, but this Live @ Brooklyn is a bit too sweaty.
But it seems Dubya's back to normal. After the rude interaction w/ the soldiers, Rummy was asked a GREAT question by a reporter "So you've had 48 or 52 hours since those soldiers raised those supply issues, what have you done about it?" and Rummy didn't answer the question, he said somethin' like 'We need to sit him down so we can know what he thinks he knows he knows.' or some such sh!t, basically saying the guy was full of sh!t. And they ask Bush about it and he's gotten back on the ball and my man says, 'Oh yeah, we've gotten that all taken care of, it's done, it's all good.'

Rhetoricpig is fried. Here's something sweet, Baby, You Can Drive My Car by Bobby McFerrin. Here's something sour, Leave Me Alone by Speedealer. Mmmm, pork fried.

Red Wig by Mike Malloy, my current rhetoric fixation. It's 32 seconds.
I had such a positive response from my recent Mini-Pops postings that I decided I like praise. So I dived Uncle Scrooge McDuck like into my enormous record vault. Swam around and pulled out Bill Cosby's What Ya Think 'Bout Lickin' My Chicken, but alas it had an inoperable repeating skip seconds from the end. So here's this crap. I'm On My Way Back Home, this is off The Partridge Family Sound Magazine. Unlike the rest of my Partridge Family albums, the orchestra on most of these tracks is mixed in way too loud.

tangent
If the CIA poisoned me I'd really resent it. I wonder how Paul Robeson felt?

tangent
"Uhm, normally, when you dip paper to make acid.....", "Yeah?", "You don't use thick construction paper.", "So?"
So then they sold it to me and I hallucinated my girlfriend smearing lipstick on her face like a tittied gorilla. I always liked to keep some range of awareness around me, at least say two feet. So when I couldn't find my dick and didn't know where the car I was sitting in was, I knew I was making my momma proud.

Ah, memories. Old, old, old memories.

The first fifteen seconds of the first of these two tracks is pretty cool. From the way, way, wayback machine here's The Crazy World Of Arthur Brown with Fire and Come and Buy. Ampersands seem to be iffy on the aggregators. On Come and Buy it sure sounds like he says 'c*nt brother, you lie'. Actually that's why I posted it.

Rhetoricpig does not suffer from such ailment, but iff'n I did I'd Go See The Doctor. That's by Kool Moe Dee. You know Prince's Partyman, the song Joker plays when he tears up the museum? Well, here is a version you may not've heard, Purple Party Mix. It didn't have a clean break at the end so it goes on a bit, about 10 seconds.

The Mini-Pops present Karma Chameleon and Do You Really Want To Hurt Me. Here's the cover. Yes, it's all kids, I'm pretty sure there was another unaffiliated children sing pop hits show on at about the time. I am oft to think of a cartoon I saw decades ago in MAD magazine. It showed a jarhead looking normalguy watching tv. The tv shows Boy George singing 'Do you really want to hurt me?' The thickneck's eyes are bugging out and he's choking the life out of his can of Coors. He does want to hurt him.

Oh yeah, this is a K-TEL record(as advertised on tv) 1984.

Man, this LP is weighty. I think I could throw it and slice off someone's head, but I don't know if I could get it to return. Heavy! Okay whatever, I wanted to give you this, Shame and Scandal, and I felt obliged to give you this, Bananaboat Song. Both are by Duke Errol, recorded in the Bahamas in the early 60s.

Best speculative/exobiology books
1. After Man by Dougal Dixon
2. Expedition by Wayne Douglas Barlowe
3. The New Dinosaurs by D. Dixon
4. The Science of Aliens by Clifford Pickover5. Man After Man by D. Dixon, this one may be tough to find.

The identity of the song they'd play on Sesame Street when the guy would come out at the top of a big flight of stairs and boom something like "forty three chocolate eclairs!" and then he'd tumble down, spilling everything in the process? Willy Wimple mp3. Animal Anthem mp3, this seven and a half minute tune, can it be real Street?

This is the first World Class Wreckin' Cru song I've posted. Mission Possible by WCWC. I got the single, I couldn't find a pic, but oh man, Dre is looking slammin' in his red smoking jacket with matching pants. POWER. His twentysomething self is in full effect. It's from the LP Rapped In Romance, I need that disc. No offense to anyone but when it comes to the Wreckin' Cru it makes a difference if Dre and Cube are present and it's not just a lone Lonzo, no offense to Lonzo.
Oh, and the pic, Wreckin' Cru, leaning eight-story building in Manila, they seemed to go together. At least obliquely. And the pic reminds me of childhood fever dreams, that's always good.

These songs are strange. Bring It On Home and We Like Ugly Women by Bobby Jimmy and the Critters. Disclaimer: rhetoricpig does not think large asses or thick hips are ugly.
Why did the man in this pic pierce his face with a 10-speed bicycle? To atone for others' sins, duh!
What would you major in if you wanted to be a real big-moving bastard since the history books are full of pap? What's the best degree to hold if you want to order secret coups and decide monetary policy for the world? Do you need a mentor?

In the interest of aggregator readers I'm gonna save my main point for a second paragraph.

River Deep~Mountain High by Ike and Tina Turner is a rightly historic piece of vinyl. Here's my fave on the disc, I Think It's Gonna Work Out Fine. But rhetoricpig will leave a discussion of the tunes for the serious music journalist wannabes, I wanna mention the picture on the back of my record cover. It's a rectangle about 5 by 9. The piano is at the left edge, and Ike is sitting at it and singing and playing, looking 'somewhere'. The gigantic Coke bottle on the piano and the badly painted ornate high-backed chair that Ike is sitting in are slightly strange. As is the backdrop of a carousel horse (facing left). But let's look at Tina, she takes up the entire righthandside, slighlty more than a third of the pic. She's singing. She's got nice Pocahontas looking hair and a plain black dress. She looks good. Ike by the way has on a longsleeve workshirt, a large pinkie ring, and his requisite pimp-hair. He looks like a mean, lanky pimp. But back to Tina. She's singing, which is pretty impressive since she's obviously building up quite a sweat washing Ike's clothes in an old-fashioned washtub and washboard. Yes, for their publicity shot Ike had Tina bring out their washing machine. Feh, I'll leave the bad jokes to your mind.

*real, non-ironic warning* Nasty downer below.
Rhetoricpig has actually been very upset by something. More than my normal ..... Oh, forget the witticisms. Along the Guatemalan-Mexican border, there has been more than one dead woman found per day for over the last year. Now left as that, it could be dismissed as just a rather vile system of patriarchy at it's normal work. But there's more. Most every single one of the women has encountered the same end, rape, intricate mutilation, and most vexing, a final execution style solitary bullet to the back of the skull. Maybe death squad style is a more appropriate adjective than execution style.
The thought, that this is purposeful, strategic, is so alien.
You can write me if you want that our troops are doing nasty stuff, but there are distinct differences. Differences in the prevalence of individual investment in atrocity.
And no, I don't think W personally committed these crimes.

How about something upbeat since I have a down post on the way? Take Off by the McKenzie Brothers and that guy from Rush. Don't Have Sex With Your Ex by Jermaine Stewart. Your Hits And Mine by Bobby Rydell and Chubby Checker. Bobby sings The Twist, Pony Time, Hucklebuck, and Let's Twist Again. Chubby sings Kissin' Time, We Got Love, Volare, and Wild One.

On the rhetoric tip Bernard Kerik removed his name from consideration as Homeland Security Chief after being inundated with scandal allegations. He had ten detectives roust people out of their beds to find his personal assistant's cellphone. I'd like to have a personal assistant. Though I'd have to think of much more to do. Much more. Back to Bernie, are there limits? If so, it surprises me.

Let's Have Some Fun by Rodney O and Joe Cooley
It's like this. Who gets the blame after Bush, or Bin Laden, or those XXXX pull off another big attack. Mr. Fireplug himself, Bernie Kerik. And XXXX is pronounced XXXXXXXXXX. And if you're offended by this post, I give up.

I don't know, I'd visit my clergyman if I had one.
Things by Joe Walsh
One thing's for sure. It would help my social life if I went anti.
Maximum Force by Bass Creator
Or left the house. Or went dancing. I miss dancing. I love sleeping. I need day dancing on the weekend. Gettin' up at 6:30 and yellin' or teachin' or tellin' stories for the next eight hours sometimes makes me feel like a bit of my soul escapes whenever I speak. I gotta get out.

We're Through Being Cool by Devo. And a slapdash bonus track, Jerkin' Back and Forth.

Let's hear it for protestors whining about getting pushed around. Like having a more colorful and overt adersary isn't the best thing that ever happened to them. Nothing's as valuable as a purpose.

Except maybe a comfy chair.

Do yourself a favor, listen to these RFTW hits and then never listen to them again. Go get your own slightly less used copy of Long Time Coming. Mary Goes 'Round and Some People Don't Care by Ready For The World. I fixed that last link, friends.

Here's Sammy Davis Jr.'s Up, Up, and Away. Ugh, I love this song. I think the one-eyed man should hold the throne over Dean, Frank, Mel Torme, Tom Jones, and (dogsh!t) Tony Bennet. He's a hep cat, one of the few that can use such words as 'hep' or 'daddio' without immediately transforming his composition into some sort of bloody clown-car pileup. He reminds me of a friction table. They are these long tables that are in physics labs that try their damndest to eliminate friction, think of a super-airhockey table. Sammy D, just like a frictionless table, exists, so he's probably not a supernatural phenomenon. I am encountering a deep unwillingness to elucidate or clarify anymore. So later home-skillet.

Play The Field by Debbie Gibson, off of Out Of The Blue '86. I also am a big fan of Menudo. Don't worry, it's in the pipeline and on it's way.

Does future head of Homeland Security (the largest government organization, ever) Bernard Kerik look more like Oddjob or Dabney Coleman? Is he soft and stupid or brutal and cunning? I guess you could be soft, brutal, stupid, and cunning. I can defend all of Bush's cabinet choices so far, but Bernie has me vexed. Mom killed by her pimp, highschool dropout, trained the hardcore Iraqi police, headed Saudi family security forces, and Rudy Giuliani's favorite police chief. Those are Bernie's bullet points. Oh, and he looks pretty interesting. Wrestler?, thug?, abusive cop?, fat guy?, all of the above.

Get Down, Make Love-Queen.
There is a planet that exactly shares our orbit. This Earth is exactly opposite our own, and stays hidden thanks to our mutual sun. Some call it Barbelith, but that is just pure conjecture. There are differences though, and one is that there, this is the most famous song by coliseum kings Queen. There, no one ever makes an ass o' themselves singing that opera song in their car. And Freddie M. provides us with the most gratuitous multisyllabic pronunciation of the word 'love'.

Oh, and please reply. I'm much nicer than I am here.

If you don't like this, then we have different musical tastes. No matter what Bobby Jimmy himself says, this is not just novelty music. L.A. Rappers
by Bobby Jimmy and the Critters. I got other stuff I wanted to post but this song deserved nuttin' less than to go solo. Okay, have I hyped this ish enough? If you don't like it, I hope your letdown is heavy and your nadir, deep. Aww, now that sounds negative. Enjoy.

The Waiter and the Porter and the Upstairs Maid
MacNamara's Band
San Fernando Valley
Pistol Packin' Mama
The Whiffenpoof Song
All are Bing Crosby from between '31 and '51. The pistol packin' mama song is with The Andrews Sisters. I include The Whiffenpoof Song more for novelty, baa, baa, baa. And we will quarter no talk of Bing as a fiery, monster a-hole when away from the mic.

You know the Macy's parade, right? Giant balloons and, um, and giant balloons. Okay, so up until the depression of the thirties they released the balloons at the end of the festivities and then offered a reward or deposit on the returned, deflated balloons. Why did they stop during the depression? Well, there were the various bloody encounters between groups of armed motoring balloon chasers and like-wise armed farmers whom owned the farms where the balloons landed or just passed over. If all of those interesting corpses weren't reason enough, the final straw was the year when a large number of the crowd took the initiative to ensure that they find the balloon by hanging onto the ropes and accompanying it on it's voyage. They all died. Hence no more obviously eco-friendly balloon release. Spoilsports, ain't that the way it always goes?
What's your favorite Bing?

No mp3, this is a test of my Blogger connection. You may want to check out my previous Schiffrin and Grace Jones offerings. As for the Che movie, Jack Palance as Fidel Castro, I need say no more.

mp3-L'Trimm-Grab It-I don't find it to be as spicy as Salt-n-Pepa's Push It. You can still listen to Handel even if it's not as good as Mozart.
Now that the election is over, it would be really good for the new's cycle if that armageddon thing would finally arrive. Like most else that happens it would probably only affect rhetoricpig incidentally.
I really need the various versions of L'Trimm's We Like The Cars That Go Boom if anyblog hears my cry and heeds it.

I love you.

Oh, and about the title. The missile defense shield would work much better as a single target laser than as a missile defense shield. And it seems obvious that would be the end of any lip from many players, i.e. a cartel kingpin.

Rhetoricpig is not anti-superlaser.

I'm Sorry That I Got Fat, I Will Lose Weight by Wesley Willis, attorney at law. How about a nice Hawaiian Punch? Billy's Bones by The Pogues. Sweat! Burn Babylon by Gold Chains(that's my kinda woman) and No Feelings by those Sexy Pistols.

You love-uh the rhetoric? You want-uh the rhetoric? Eh? Eh? I declare a new national(or global) day of observance.. The name is not set in stone but I call it 'No Hitler Analogies Day'. On No Hitler Analogies day no one would be compared to Hitler. Nothing would be spoken of as 'nazi-like'. On No Hitler Analogies Day there would be no being reminded of 'shades of Mengele'. In short no mention of Nazis or Hitler. Old Adolf is the laziest rhetorical trope around.

"You can take those candles off your tree this year and put up electrical lights."