eg. “Is that your morass?” “Yes, that morass belongs to me.” **** alt. usage (Democrats): “No, that morass belongs to Smirky McChimpyburton and all the greedy, bloodsoaked corporate puppeteers who pull his strings.”

…debating Fahrenheit 911 is a lot like chatting up a fish stick:  even if you score, you’re scoring with a tube of hastily processed, frozen breaded cod bits.  And let’s face it, even Josh Marshall can score with cod bits.

If Michael Moore were a beanbag chair, the ‘70s wouldn’t have been half as fun.  Not to mention the entire decade would’ve smelled like sausage patties and chicken fried steak. update:  And flop sweat. update 2:  And string cheese. 

Ted Rall is still an idiot.  And a racially retarded one, to boot. **** h/t Ray update:  West Virginia Senator Robert Byrd responds:  “Well, I quite enjoyed Mr. Rall’s illustrated funny.  And if you have the time, I can tell you quite a few stories about the negroes and their erstwhile love affair with the pomade…”

NR’s Rich Lowry has an amusing take on “W’s Double-binds”: Sometimes a political figure becomes so hated that he can’t do anything right in the eyes of his enemies. President Bush has achieved this rare and exalted status. His critics are so blinded by animus that the internal consistency of their attacks on him no longer matters. For them, Bush is the double-bind president. If he stumbles over his words,

Reuters: “Soviet Icon Lenin Died of Syphilis-Experts Say” …which is hardly a shock when you stop to consider the millions of people the big Red potato drinker fucked over… **** update:  thanks. I’ll be here all week.

Q: What do you get when you cross Sandy Berger and a Bengal Tiger? A: A former Clinton national security adviser and current John Kerry campaign advisor with a 400 lb. carniverous cat stuffed somewhere in his pants. **** h/t ASV

Help blogger Mark O’Brien find his son’s killer. You can read his story here, in the New York Post. Michele has more.

Try scratching it, dummy.  Scratching it’s not a sin.

Know what I’m in the mood for?  A clambake.  A groovy groovy clambake.  Which beats the hell out of abortion talk.  Plus, there’re clams.  Which are cool to begin with.