She might not get to be preznint (apparently God changed his mind) but he will always be queen.

God tells Michele to run. Also, to change her stylist.

At this time of the year, when it becomes necessary to explain to Americans that no, it is not ‘New Years’ but ‘ ‘New Year’s Eve’ and exactly what is meant by ‘auld lang syne’ (try explaining that to a dancer, I dare you) it occurs to me to step back and remember He who makes our little community possible.

Those of us who lived through the Great Migration might perhaps have a more pronounced wet spot for our own Dear Leader than newcomers but let’s all of us take a moment to think of Noje and thank him for sticking with us through yet another year. As our world contracts to a few blogs and reruns of That 70s Show, it’s important to keep close to our collective heart those balmy days of yore when our hopes were high and happiness seemed to be within our reach.

Our New Year anthem was composed by Robert Burns, poet, drunkard, Stinquer avant la lettre, who died in the gutter, forgotten, penniless. As the resident Scot let me now remember his words:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?

It’s a question. Should we remember the past? Or is it too painful?

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No Episcopalians were harmed in the making of this video.

Did the Frothy campaign pay FAMiLY (sick) leader one mill clamolions for his personal endorsement? Is the family values yadda-yadda, anti-gay yadda-yadda leader Ermintrude Vander Plotz (not his real name) a pay-for-play-shakedown whore? And did Frothy open wide like preacher at a truck stop glory hole on Saturday night?

Tell us about the home schooled kids, Ricky. Tell us about all the morals and such as. Tell us about INTEGRiTY.

Iowa Conservative Leader Mired in Controversy After Rick Santorum Endorsement [ABC]

With the rise of Tea Bagging and the madness of the Right, Dickens’s story, it seems to me, has taken on a new relevance.

His great theme, and the story he keeps coming back to in so many novels, is that of children being forced to pay the price of the older generation’s sins, its greed, its rapacity, its lack of human fellowship. In A Christmas Carol he set out to write a potboiler which grew beyond his wildest expectations into the story we know, that has become so encrusted with kitsch it’s hard to see past the bad wigs and terrible accents into the intensely imagined parable of greed and redemption he imagined. I adapted it as a chamber piece for five actors – no children – and brought into focus its sober underpinnings.

But as it’s for Christmas, there must be a happy ending, no matter how unlikely.

So this is how it ends.

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Just because. Shiny, sparkly. Chicks. You know you want it. Plus Jews. It’s all good.

You loved the badass Honeybadger? Meh. Kinda cute. This is badass. The streets of New York.

Thanks JMG for being you.