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no_hypocrisy

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Member since: 2003 before July 6th
Number of posts: 25,763

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Portable DVD Player Question

Mine just went black. Even when loading.

Can flat-screen DVD players "burn out" like the old-fashioned television tubes? Don't know whether to fix or buy a new one. (It's less than 5 years old.)

They're still running pro-Christie ads in the Midwest?

A musician just returned to NJ after a tour of several Midwest states and has reported that TV has been running advertisements that laud Governor Chris Christie's "accomplishments" in NJ.

What's going on? Christie said he's not going for the nomination but left the door open as a running mate?

Or . . . is he priming himself for a brokered convention? Being duplicitous by saying he's not running but the money is being budgeted right now for a campaign?

Lynn Samuels (Sirius) died today.

Can't find any info online except from Lionel on Facebook and Wikipedia.

I followed her from WBAI to WABC in New York. She was infamous for her Christmas Eve shows where she'd have 4-5 callers sing carols together, everyone off-key and different tempos, but all having a great time.

While I found Lynn to be inexplicably devoted to Hillary and more libertarian than liberal these past few years, I liked listening to her. Yes, even with that voice I liked her.

"Christmas in the Workhouse"

I remember it being recited in a film called "The Gathering" with Ed Asner in the Seventies.

It is Christmas Day in the workhouse,
And the cold, bare walls are bright
With garlands of green and holly,
Ad the place is a pleasant sight;
For with clean-washed hands and faces,
In a long and hungry line
The paupers sit at the table,
For this is the hour they dine.

And the guardians and their ladies,
Although the wind is east,
Have come in their furs and wrappers,
To watch their charges feast;
To smile and be condescending,
Put pudding on pauper plates.
To be hosts at the workhouse banquet
They've paid for — with the rates.

Oh, the paupers are meek and lowly
With their "Thank'ee kindly, mum's!'"So long as they fill their stomachs,
What matter it whence it comes!
But one of the old men mutters,
And pushes his plate aside:
"Great God!" he cries, "but it chokes me!
For this is the day she died!"

The guardians gazed in horror,
The master's face went white;
"Did a pauper refuse the pudding?"
"Could their ears believe aright?"
Then the ladies clutched their husbands,
Thinking the man would die,
Struck by a bolt, or something,
By the outraged One on high.

But the pauper sat for a moment,
Then rose 'mid silence grim,
For the others had ceased to chatter
And trembled in every limb.
He looked at the guardians' ladies,
Then, eyeing their lords, he said,
"I eat not the food of villains
Whose hands are foul and red:

"Whose victims cry for vengeance
From their dark, unhallowed graves."
"He's drunk!" said the workhouse master,
"Or else he's mad and raves."
"Not drunk or mad," cried the pauper,
"But only a haunted beast,
Who, torn by the hounds and mangled,
Declines the vulture's feast.

"I care not a curse for the guardians,
And I won't be dragged away;
Just let me have the fit out,
It's only on Christmas Day
That the black past comes to goad me,
And prey on my burning brain;
I'll tell you the rest in a whisper —
I swear I won't shout again.

"Keep your hands off me, curse you!
Hear me right out to the end.
You come here to see how paupers
The season of Christmas spend;.
You come here to watch us feeding,
As they watched the captured beast.
Here's why a penniless pauper
Spits on your paltry feast.

"Do you think I will take your bounty,
And let you smile and think
You're doing a noble action
With the parish's meat and drink?
Where is my wife, you traitors —
The poor old wife you slew?
Yes, by the God above me,
My Nance was killed by you!

'Last winter my wife lay dying,
Starved in a filthy den;
I had never been to the parish —
I came to the parish then.
I swallowed my pride in coming,
For ere the ruin came,
I held up my head as a trader,
And I bore a spotless name.

"I came to the parish, craving
Bread for a starving wife,
Bread for the woman who'd loved me
Through fifty years of life;
And what do you think they told me,
Mocking my awful grief,
That 'the House' was open to us,
But they wouldn't give 'out relief'.

"I slunk to the filthy alley —
'Twas a cold, raw Christmas Eve —
And the bakers' shops were open,
Tempting a man to thieve;
But I clenched my fists together,
Holding my head awry,
So I came to her empty-handed
And mournfully told her why.

"Then I told her the house was open;
She had heard of the ways of that,
For her bloodless cheeks went crimson,
and up in her rags she sat,
Crying, 'Bide the Christmas here, John,
We've never had one apart;
I think I can bear the hunger —
The other would break my heart.'

"All through that eve I watched her,
Holding her hand in mine,
Praying the Lord and weeping,
Till my lips were salt as brine;
I asked her once if she hungered,
And as she answered 'No' ,
T'he moon shone in at the window,
Set in a wreath of snow.

"Then the room was bathed in glory,
And I saw in my darling's eyes
The faraway look of wonder
That comes when the spirit flies;
And her lips were parched and parted,
And her reason came and went.
For she raved of our home in Devon,
Where our happiest years were spent.

"And the accents, long forgotten,
Came back to the tongue once more.
For she talked like the country lassie
I woo'd by the Devon shore;
Then she rose to her feet and trembled,
And fell on the rags and moaned,
And, 'Give me a crust — I'm famished —
For the love of God!' she groaned.

"I rushed from the room like a madman
And flew to the workhouse gate,
Crying, 'Food for a dying woman!'
And the answer came, 'Too late.'
They drove me away with curses;
Then I fought with a dog in the street
And tore from the mongrel's clutches
A crust he was trying to eat.

"Back through the filthy byways!
Back through the trampled slush!
Up to the crazy garret,
Wrapped in an awful hush;
My heart sank down at the threshold,
And I paused with a sudden thrill.
For there, in the silv'ry moonlight,
My Nance lay, cold and still.

"Up to the blackened ceiling,
The sunken eyes were cast —
I knew on those lips, all bloodless,
My name had been the last;
She called for her absent husband —
O God! had I but known! —
Had called in vain, and, in anguish,
Had died in that den — alone.

"Yes, there, in a land of plenty,
Lay a loving woman dead,
Cruelly starved and murdered
for a loaf of the parish bread;
At yonder gate, last Christmas,
I craved for a human life,
You, who would feed us paupers,
What of my murdered wife!"

'There, get ye gone to your dinners,
Don't mind me in the least,
Think of the happy paupers
Eating your Christmas feast;
And when you recount their blessings
In your smug parochial way,
Say what you did for me, too,
Only last Christmas Day."

George R Sims

Anthony Weiner and Huma Abedin are parents.

The message body of this post was accidentally deleted due to an unexpected bug in our new software. The bug has been fixed, and most of the data was recovered. But unfortunately we were unable to recover the full text of this post. An older version of this post may be available in its edit history. Also, the author of the post may edit the post to replace the missing text, if they wish. The DU Administrators apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you for your understanding.

I'm sure that Marge Roukema wouldn't have signed Grover Norquist's Pledge

not to raise taxes. Marge was the former representative for the Fifth District of NJ, predecessor to Scott Garrett.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marge_Roukema

They don't make republicans like that anymore . . . .

If you have any doubts that Obama is doing everything he can with constitutional constraints,

then consider this: Why do you think he was able to overcome OBL and bring an end to the Iraq occupation? Because the republicans in the House had no constitutional authority to interfere with Obama as far as military operations. He's the Commander In Chief. They only budget for the military. Do you think for a minute that defense manufacturers and military contractors wanted us to leave Iraq anytime soon? Nor do I. If repubicans had their way, Iraq not only wouldn't have ended but it would have incorporated Iran and Syria.

Boehner and Cantor couldn't stop Obama from resolving OBL and Iraq. Almost everything else, Obama's been blocked and sneered at by House and Senate republicans. It isn't him. It's them.

Alan West compares democrats to Nazis.

Glenn Beck should sue him for stealing his shtik.


“If Joseph Goebbels was around, he'd be very proud of the Democrat Party because they have an incredible propaganda machine,” West said on Capitol Hill Thursday, quoted by Politico. “I think that you have, and let's be honest, you know, some of the people in the media are complicit in this, in enabling them to get that type of message out.”

“Don't start taking my words and twisting it around. I'm talking about propaganda. And I think that's a very important thing,” West continued.

Rep. Gary Ackerman (D-Queens) demanded Friday that West apologize immediately.


http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/lightning-rod-tea-party-congressman-compares-democrats-nazis-ny-lawmaker-demands-apology-article-1.992890

It seems to me that there has been less posting since DU3.

Not necessarily complaining. Just observing that it used to be usual for me to review 2-3 pages of new posts overnight when I woke up and logged on to DU2. Now it's 1+ pages. Even if it graphically DU3 has longer pages, it's still less posts. I can get through overnight now in less than a 1/2 hour.

Where is everybody?
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