This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO

RUSH RUSH II



Limbaugh: I want to know. I look at Iowa, I look at Illinois—I want to see the murders. I want to see the looting. I want to see all the stuff that happened in New Orleans. I see devastation in Iowa and Illinois that dwarfs what happened in New Orleans. I see people working together. I see people trying to save their property…I don’t see a bunch of people running around waving guns at helicopters, I don’t see a bunch of people running shooting cops. I don’t see a bunch of people raping people on the street. I don’t see a bunch of people doing everything they can…whining and moaning—where’s FEMA, where’s BUSH. I see the heartland of America. When I look at Iowa and when I look at Illinois, I see the backbone of America.
(More on Crooks and Liars.)


-LETTER TO RUSH LIMBAUGH-

Rush,
You goddamned, miserable, hypocritical, no-good, lowly, discriminatory, soul-sucking, malevolent, blood-born, bigoted, crazed, putrid, purgatorial-palpitating, ill-mannered buffoon! How dare you speak as the hallowed headmaster, superintendent, proprietor, sanctimonious distributor and arrogant dictator of this world’s misery!

O! Thy hollow, depraved soul is skewed
and sliding down an aural hole of agony;
a foul cavern as evil and as violated
as the servitude to an empire’s domination.

It shouldn’t take a flood to fill thee with humbleness, you blithering windbag!
Or a hurricane to elevate thy spirit out of the muck, you inappropriate pinhead!

And from this abyss, with swaying havoc mad,
as if thy words and jagged huff were God’s sway,
You rage that the black people are what caused such water-filled sorrow;
inferior form, a black shade!

Nor, dear Rush,
should it take a natural disaster to bathe integrity over thy soul, you glib, gutless gobbet!
Or a tragedy to soak thy dark heart with a love for mankind, you insignificant imp!

You're a Goddamned cretin!
A rigid, bile-crammed carcass
Wrenching thy darkness across our air and ears,
Years now, tormenting even those who’ve died for thee!
Thy fans are desolation’s addicts, you, their conduit!

Your spineless, pallid rage and horrifyingly insipid calculation
Shall never bring about even an nth of goodness?
Or have thou other, more baleful plans?
Is this despicable, gloom-filled diatribe your raison de’tre?

In this loudness thou hast reached boundless despicability
and firmly sunk into turmoil upon thy egocentric airwave.
Yes! We’ve been idle witness to thy feckless disgrace! No more!
Come! Come, Rush! Bring thy arrogant god and its uselessness!
We’ll be waiting…

Sincerely,
thepoetryman’s muse

© 2008 mrp/tpm


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