Shorter Confederate Yankee

A Point of Honor

yankeecommie.jpg

  • George Santayana? Sure, whatever; I’m not too much into that Latin rock.* Now here’s my new idea with the Pvt. Beauchamp affair: Whatever that so-called ‘aim’ thing was about, I say we redouble our effort.

‘Shorter’ concept created by Daniel Davies and perfected by Elton Beard.


* Cite here.

 

Comments: 66

 
 
 

he’s going after TNR’s advertisers? doesn’t the nondy cunt realise that the magazine is financially fucked anyway and only survives to fellate Marty Peretz’ ego because of the generosity of his wife? i doubt a couple hundred bucks pulled by The History Channel will make much of a difference

 
 

We’re grillin’ them over there so…tornado…afraid of the neighbor…what was we talkin about?

Oh, yes, crimestop.

 
 

and i’ll bet GM is quaking at the thought that confederate wankee’s nine readers are going to hold off selling their sisters to buy new cars to put on bricks in their front lawns

 
 

Now, the treasonous yankee is a first-order asshole, of that there can be little doubt and less debate.

But that said, I have to confess, I’m starting to worry about him. This obsessive focus on the insignificant Beauchamp story is clearly exposing not just a mental disorder characterized by uncontrolled OCD, but now he has disassociated to the point where he’s lost all contact with reality.

The fact that nobody cares about this non-story anymore, if they ever did, and that he continues to wave his sad little flag due to his delusions, fueled by the sad enablers and codependents that read his blog, while the rest of the world just shakes it’s head and averts its eyes is really sad.

Yankee. Get help. Find something else in the world to think about. Stop dwelling endlessly about a guy who might have told a fib a long time ago. There’s more important stuff in the world, even if it doesn’t make you feel like you’re important, like you have some stake in the actual outcome.

I’m honestly afraid that his friends and family will organize an intervention, only to show up at his single-wide and find him emaciated and sobbing, covered in his own filth, drooling and muttering, repeating “Beauchamp, Beauchamp, Beauchamp” over and over again…

mikey

 
 

repeating “Beauchamp, Beauchamp, Beauchamp” over and over again…

I bet that’ll happen, and worse, he’ll be pronouncing it wrong.

 
 

Oh what a tragic day if TNR or Confederate Yankme were to receive an egg facial.

 
 

It is just this sort of incisive commentary by Mr. Yankee that will land him that coveted political correspondent position on Hee-Haw.

 
 

Is it really necessary to tell us who came up with the “shorter” concept everytime you do a “shorter”?

 
 

that coveted political correspondent position on Hee-Haw.

No way could CY compete with the intellectual heft of Junior Samples.

 
 

Steve: Elton Brand needs that sweet ‘shorter’ money now that he’s injured and can’t play for the Clippers.

 
Johnny Coelacanth
 

Here is me wit another Off Topic post:

Mukasey Won’t Say Waterboarding Is Torture But in 1947 the U.S. Called It a War Crime, Sentenced Enemy Officer to 15 Years Hard Labor

Yeah, I know. 9/11 changed everything, including the definition of “struggle for civilization,” which WW2 was NOT, but war against Al Quaida IS. So there.

 
 

Also, obligatory lookism: somebody’s angling for the role of Chet Donnelly in the Shitsville Community Theater’s production of Weird Science!

However, he thinks that the line “You two donkey-dicks couldn’t get laid in a morgue!” to be factually incorrect and investigated several morgues, citizen journalist-style, to prove the original author incorrect.

 
 

CY is still angry about the injury suffered by his piece of shit grill that, which he may or may not have fetched from his neighbor’s lawn.

 
Tender Mercenaries
 

I suppose that Owens’ obsession can be traced to Beauchamp’s perfectly co-operative knees. You see, if it weren’t for his trick knee, Confederate Yankee would be over there killing Arabs (notice the plural — that’s more than one, unlike that grill-less wimp Meursault). CY’s inability to join and fight while lesser men take all the glory has driven him mad, kind of like that movie where F. Murray Abraham’s character was jealous of Tom Hulce’s character ’cause Hulce got to go to all the cool Delta House concertos.

 
 

What happened to the animated, Scooby-Doo-esque Connecticut Yankee?

 
 

err, Confederate…

 
 

OMG is that a wacky package sticker!? I haven’t seen one of those since… jesus christ I’m old.

 
 

Is it really necessary to tell us who came up with the “shorter” concept everytime you do a “shorter”?

Shorter steve EVfuture:

  • ‘Another Hilarious Mad Fold-In,’ I weary of thee.

‘Shorter’ concept created by Daniel Davies and perfected by Elton Beard.


 
 

I sure hope that toilet paper isn’t on their boycott list.

 
 

‘Another Hilarious Mad Fold-In’

Now I await actual fold-ins.

 
 

Now I await actual fold-ins.

They’re harder than they look, especially for digital media.

atlasfoldinfull.jpg

atlasfoldinhalf.jpg

 
 

Yankee. Get help. Find something else in the world to think about. Stop dwelling endlessly about a guy who might have told a fib a long time ago.

The loss of that BBQ really sent him over the edge.

If this little project of his helps him pick up the pieces of his shattered life ( or lets him avoid picking up pieces of shattered charcoal and cleaning up his lawn)- I say bully! Bully for him!

 
 

Well done, Gavin.

 
 

sheesh Gavin, that is amazing!

 
 

Oh no! The Hoover Institution is on the boycott list!

Now how will he get the Cheetos out of the living room carpet?

 
Johnny Coelacanth
 

Wowsers, as Inspector Gadget used to say. Excellent work, Gav. I will petition Lord Kos to increase your monthly ration of gay abortion for your fine efforts.

 
 

Now compose a poem–a poem about a haircut! But lofty, noble, tragic, timeless, full of love, treachery, retribution, and quiet heroism in the face of certain doom! Six lines, cleverly rhymed, and every word beginning with the letter s!

 
 

Oh of course, he’s a Confederate. He has a slave to lick his carpet.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

Oh what a tragic day if TNR or Confederate Yankme were to receive an egg facial.
I for one will not allow myself to be side-tracked by irrelevant matters of ‘egg on the face’ — not while questions remain about the loyalties of certain enemy-abetting hens.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

Now that RB is quoting the Cyberiad, things could go downhill very quickly.

 
 

I sure hope that toilet paper isn’t on their boycott list.

For their families’ sake if nothing else.

 
 

From one of Slideshow Bob’s commenters:

You would do better to include an example letter which could be copied and modified. Most people will get tied up trying to toss something together and either be unclear orsound raving,,,,

I’m picturing some unsuspecting advertising exec for the New School reading her blackberry while waiting on line at Starbucks this morning and discovering she’s been deluged with literally, like, 8 strange emails and wondering to herself what these people are talking about; “Writing to you at Confederate Yankee’s suggestion? Who and what is a Confederate Yankee? Scott Beauchamp? Elizabeth Elspeth? Just like the Jamil Hussein controversy? Lamestream media? Kerning? All going to be wearing burkhas before Christmas? WTF? Must be spam.” Select, scroll, delete.

 
 

I’m not sure a widow’s peak counts as a haircut. If it gets any worse he’ll look like a castrated Vegeta.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

He has a slave to lick his carpet.
I need to look that up on Urban-Dictionary.

 
 

The fact is, Michael Moore and commie health care has no creditability. He is fat and a left liberal moonbat.

 
 

I anxiously await the CY-organized picket lines.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

the animated, Scooby-Doo-esque [Confederate] Yankee?
In my nightmares, the road-kill hedgehog that he’s using for a hairpiece suddenly opens its eyes and starts humping.

 
 

Maybe they can boycott TNR’s advertisers and save some money to buy CY a real chin….

 
 

They’re harder than they look, especially for digital media.

Okay, how about an original this time. Brad dropped that one into one of DA’s posts last December.

 
 

RB-

Nightmares? Are you kidding, I have that saved in my DVR.

 
 

Okay, how about an original this time. Brad dropped that one into one of DA’s posts last December.

What? You don’t mean…

 
 

On the subject of boycotts, I don’t know who the fuck listens to classic rock radio anymore but via Atrios, Clear Channel is Dixie Chicking the new Springsteen album.

 
 

What? Did his grill fall over again? Does he need more money again?

 
 

Hey, you try walking around the mall dressed like a chinless doofus with a hedgehog-toupé and see how you like it. Except down here in Redneckistan you’d look like just about everybody else, so nevermind.

 
 

Secessionist Santayana-scorner suggests sympathetic souls simultaneously stop shopping,
Scuppering some scriveners’ skulduggery, supporting Shrub’s sagging stock.
Scrutinising saleables, sedentary slobs, sandwiches slopping,
Stray soon, supporting sanguinary scribbles, serious shock!
Scuttling scupperings, shirking shibboleths, siren-songs stump;
Sombre, solitary spaces see soda-slurpers slump.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

Let’s have a love poem, lyrical, pastoral, and expressed in the language of pure mathematics. Tensor algebra mainly, with a little topology and higher calculus, if need be. But with feeling, you understand, and in the cybernetic spirit.

 
 

What? You don’t mean…

Well I certainly couldn’t. . .um, that is, Brad certainly couldn’t do it in the three minutes between comments, up there.

Something like that takes eight, nine minutes minimum — and you might as well forget about your open Sim City window for the duration.

 
 

God damn, I wish I was privy to the emails these outfits are about to receive. It’s a well-known fact that CY’s loyalists even email in crayon.

 
Qetesh the Abyssinian
 

Mukasey Won’t Say Waterboarding Is Torture But in 1947 the U.S. Called It a War Crime, Sentenced Enemy Officer to 15 Years Hard Labor

The guy is called Mukasey? Seriously? Rhyming with mucus?

Man, you guys get all the comedy gold. Mind you, we do have two slimy bastards (aka members of the government) called Abbott and Costello. But they’re a one-gag team, whereas an AG called Mucus is the gift that just keeps on giving.

 
 

I’m starting to worry about J–.

I wonder if he’s actually an NSA bot that knows ever post to every blog, website and message board on the intert00bz. Because he certainly seems to have that knowledge, doctor…

mikey

 
 

Praying to the preview gods…more Lem:

Come, let us hasten to a higher plane,
Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn,
Their indices bedecked from one to n,
Commingled in an endless Markov chain!

Come, every frustum longs to be a cone,
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.

In Riemann, Hilbert or Banach space
Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways.
Our asymptotes no longer out of phase,
We shall encounter, counting, face to face.

I’ll grant thee random access to my heart,
Thou’lt tell me all the constants of thy love;
And so we two shall all love’s lemmas prove,
And in our bound partition never part.

For what did Cauchy know, or Christoffel,
Or Fourier, or any Boole or Euler,
Wielding their compasses, their pens and rulers,
Of thy supernal sinusoidal spell?

Cancel me not — for what then shall remain?
Abscissas, some mantissas, modules, modes,
A root or two, a torus and a node:
The inverse of my verse, a null domain.

Ellipse of bliss, converge, O lips divine!
The product of our scalars is defined!
Cyberiad draws nigh, and the skew mind
Cuts capers like a happy haversine.

I see the eigenvalue in thine eye,
I hear the tender tensor in thy sigh.
Bernoulli would have been content to die,
Had he but known such A squared cosine 2 phi!

 
 

Damn Bubba, you’re on the ball today

 
 

You are my unique extension; you are my dual.
No other algebra I know can imbue all
Existence with such magic, with your words so kind.
Let no forgetful functor come between us. Let us find
Some vector space on which we can both be free
And bestow upon the world our distributivity.
Out here, we can relax at last; we Tensors, we know how.
And while we are coalgebrae, this Web is Paradise enow.

 
 

Day – AM! I am in WAY over my head around here.

Um. Wanna see my clothespin collection?

mikey

 
 

Cesium anyone? Perhaps this caters more to Mikey’s interests.

Yesterday,
I had Cesium with which to play.
Now all my fingers have been blown away.
And silence reigns since yesterday.

Suddenly,
I’m just half the man I used to be.
I have no eyes with which to see.
My legs have parted company.

Why she had to blow,
I don’t know,
I can only say.
Something went awful wrong,
In the waterbed where we lay.

Yesterday,
Her sky blue path seemed such an easy way.
Now I know there is a price to pay.
Oh, I believed just yesterday.

—Songs of Cesium #117(b)

 
 

Hey, mikey. This one’s easy to explain. The fold-in was fresh on my mind. Yesterday Sadly, Cambridgeport and some others were discussing the decor at Casa de Pammy. I remembered I had read an Atlas Shrugs post about a Marilyn Monroe silk screen she has over her bed and had subsequently commented on it here. I wanted to share it with them. A Google search of Sadly, No! for both Pamela’s and Monroe’s names led to that post with the fold-in.

And that’s how the magic happens!

 
 

A caesium-flushing toilet would explain the blog title “Wizbang”.

 
 

You know what, Mikey? I have a ball. Perhaps you’d like to bounce it?

 
 

A caesium-flushing toilet would explain the blog title “Wizbang”.

I can dream.

 
 

Okay, I’m now officially in love with Righteous Bubba.

 
 

Hey Rufus! Bring your ball. We can get a piece of chalk and draw a line on the driveway and bounce the ball over the line…

mikey

 
 

Okay, I’m now officially in love with Righteous Bubba.

There’s a long line outside my door, MzNicky. I made it myself using flourescent orange paint.

 
Herr Doktor Bimler
 

Andrew’s ode brought a tear to my eye…
No, my mistake, it wasn’t the poem. The clothespeg on the nipple was to blame.

 
 

There’s a long line outside my door, MzNicky. I made it myself using flourescent orange paint.

Rufus and mikey now have a ball court!

 
 

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