Debbie’s Getting Hot Flashes Again…

Debbie Daniel (a.k.a., the Unholy Love-Spawn of Donna Reed and Margaret Thatcher) has been pretty quiet lately- and no wonder! If her latest column is an indication, she’s been gearing up to join Cal Thomas’ al-Terri Martyrs’ Brigade:

There’s a crack in our foundation

Debbie Daniel

Wake up America . . . the alarm clock just went off and we keep turning over and going back to sleep. There’s an “uprisin’ on the horizon” and we refuse to face it. Sleeping through it might make it easier, but the end result will be devastating.

Yep, Debbie’s gonna take to the streets chanting “Dubya Akbar!” until The People rise up and overthrow the tyrannical independent judiciary, just like the Founding Fathers would have done if they weren’t a bunch of pussies worried about “separation of powers.”

We’ve had a lightning bolt cut through the very core of our foundation forming a crack so deep we could topple by our weight of indifference. This ship is listing badly; so tilted we may never be uprighted again.

Our love affair with America is “breaking apart” because our foundation is cracking. The winds of hatred are blowing hard…

That ain’t the only thing that blows in this column…

…the thunderous protests have challenged our will, and the disease of apathy is eating away at our very root system.

Go ahead and tell me I’m crazy.

OK. You’re crazy.

I was one of those people who wanted Terri Schiavo to live. I was one of those people who could not find any joy in Michael’s Schiavo’s relentless desire to fulfill his wife’s “suddenly remembered” request seven years later.

And lastly, I was one of those people you told to sit down and shut up. So I did.

Too bad it didn’t last longer.

With the passing of the Pope two days later, I could not move away so quickly from thoughts of Terri Schiavo’s passing. I knew the Pope would be okay, but I wasn’t sure about the rest of us.

Uhm, I’m not sure the Pope is doing “okay,” Debbie… he’s kinda dead and whatnot…

I’ve cried in my quiet moments ? not only for Terri ? but for my beloved country, America.

Can I get a hug, Debbie? C’mon, give us a hug, eh?

My own quietness has brought about much anguish for me because I am not a quiet person. It is frightening . . . it is terrifying, for I realize the line has been drawn. The “crack” was so loud when Terri Schiavo died, I believe the Pope hung his head even lower and gave up his own will to fight any longer. He had been so deeply passionate about her life that we may have cast a blow to his.

So all you assholes out there who didn’t want Jeb Bush to use the National Guard to forcibly take Terri into state custody, the blood of the Pope is on YOUR HANDS. The Pope died, and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT, so nyah, nyah, nyah! Yosef, you feel guilty yet? Huh? What about you, Hemlock Echo? Did you enjoy slaughtering His Holiness?

What a tragedy for all of us. What a sad commentary on mankind.

The “crack” became an earthquake forming a deep divide as a line drawn in the sand. Americans are standing strong on the side of what has become their truth. We are no longer able to discern what the truth really is because the clouds have become so dark. There is an expert on every issue arguing both sides, so what is the truth anymore?

You’re right, Debbie, we should scrap the whole “democratic debate” thing and forcibly implement God’s plan to privatize social security.

The steel that crumpled on that fateful day in September of 2001 may be dwarfed in comparison to the crumbling of our nation’s structure ? its foundation. It’s a slower fall, but it’s happening nonetheless, and could be just as fatal. Our “spirit of steel” ? layer by layer, floor by floor ? is crumbling.

And if that means insane people like Debbie will get discouraged from politics and stop voting, all I gotta say is, “Tiiiiiiiiiiimberrrrrrr!”

It’s not only that Terri Schiavo died . . . it’s the way we sent her to her death. We stood by watching it happen as if on a daily countdown.

Well, I didn’t, Debbie. I actually took the position that it’s none of my goddamn business. If you have a sick obsession with counting down the days ’til someone’s death, that’s your problem.

We recorded and showed on the nightly news parents and children trying to give her water. I guess we feared she might stand up and walk.

Uhm, I don’t think we feared that, Debbie, since large portions of her brain were spinal fluid.

Even if you believe Terri Schiavo had a right to die; and even if you believe her husband Michael had the right to stand by her decision to “not live like that;” and you believe her parents were pathetically selfish in not giving her the dignity she deserved in death, do we truly believe she would not want her parents at her bedside when she breathed her last breath? Do we believe that Terri would have refused her own mother’s desire to hold her in her arms one last time and say, “I love you, my precious daughter?”

Well, I admit Michael Schiavo was a prick about this, but once again, it wasn’t any of my business.

The Pope’s death has been a celebration of life, but America has suffered a death that can never be celebrated. A part of us died with Terri.

Yes, the Pope is in a better place, and so is Terri Schiavo . . . but not America.

We have lost our way.

OK, fine. Now can you pleeeeeease stop voting?


Comments: 21


The “crack” became an earthquake forming a deep divide as a line drawn in the sand.

Somehow that metaphor whips right around and swallows itself whole, disappearing as if it were never there.

Is Pastor Swank sharing his stash these days?

Mr. Language Man

Hey! Didn’t we just have a brouhaha over the use of the word “cunt” and now you’re using “pussies” as an insult?

But seriously – it’s not a PC thing, because I’m all in favor of giving offense when necessary. Really, it seems to reek of Calvinist misogyny to use sexual terms as insults. I’m just sayin’. Only a warped religious nut would have thought to call someone a sexual organ as the worst kind of thing imaginable.

I humbly submit that a post should be devoted to using our educated, 21st century minds for dreaming up some new expressions to make old ladies faint.


I think Pastor Swank’s her dealer. Btw if you wanna update us on the twins today, feel free 🙂


when Terri Schiavo died, I believe the Pope hung his head even lower and gave up his own will to fight any longer.

Thousands of his priests raping little boys is one thing. So is 100,000+ people dying in an aggressive war that he opposed. But the pope lost his will to live after what we did to poor Terri.


Language man-
I used “pussies” sorta ironically, as in “those Founding Fathers were pussies for writing the Constitution and not installing a theocracy.” It’s not meant to be an actual insult, but more a parody of the ultra-conservative, Doug Giles P.O.V.


I used “pussies” sorta ironically, as in “those Founding Fathers were pussies for writing the Constitution and not installing a theocracy.”

No man, you’re busted like the former Pope’s fisher’s ring. Busted flat in Baton Rouge. You’re a guy named Ted on a bus — Bus:Ted.


My problem with calling Michelle a “cunt” (and I should point out that my problem isn’t with the post you wrote here at S,N!, it’s more with the commentors at Kevin Drum’s blog) wasn’t that I found the word insulting- it’s more that it gave Michelle a reason to get all self-righteous.

If you’re gonna go ad hominem, you either do it because they’re asking for it (like Gavin did when Michelle called herself a “cunt” on her blog) or because it’s clever (i.e., The Unholy Love-Spawn of Donna Reed and Maggie Thatcher).

But when people just write “Malkin is a cunt” without addressing her arguments, it’s just an emotional response and doesn’t address the (many, many) problems with her point of view.

OK, that’s all I gotta say about that. Let’s get back to auctioning Seb’s penis 😉


Deb, hon, the striking lightning bolt is God’s way of saying he’s appalled by your metaphor mixing. I mean, whose ship wouldn’t list if sitting on a cracked foundation, relying on only a root system (maybe the taproot cracked the foundation?) to counter seismic activity.

Okay. Now I’m dizzy.

P.S. What’s the current highest bid for Seb’s penis? I’ll raise it by .50 simolians.


What’s the current highest bid for Seb’s penis?

If you have to ask, you can’t afford it. :p


I wonder is she gets paid by the partial metaphor.

Mr. Language Man

I know, Brad, I’m not really ragging on you personally for it. It’s just one of those things – you know, after hearing so many people use the term seriously, I said to myself, “Hey, I like pussies! They’ve given me so much joy in my life. Why is it a bad thing to call someone a pussy?”

Let’s ask William Safire about this.


Great stuff there, Brad, except for Michael behaving like a prick. Those were the people that have been slandering him and making his life a living hell for years.

Oneiros Dreaming

Did you enjoy slaughtering His Holiness?

I did. I mean, if I can’t kill the Pope, what good is all that time I spent training with my murder simulators on th PS2?


Debbie’s metaphors are great fun, be she’s no Kaye Grogan! Where does Alan Keyes find them?

suburban refugee

So every time we allow a brain dead woman kept alive through artifical means to finally die, a Pope dies.

That makes even more sense then how Jesus has been killing kittens because I masturbate. I wonder if Debbie has been keeping track of that too.


Sainthood nominee Terri Schiavo per Cal Thomas? What on earth did Terri Schiavo do to achieve sainthood?

Apparently her last deliberate choice on earth was to induce vomiting and/or take a powerful laxative so she could lose weight, thus achieving some pathetic sense of control over her life while being manipulated by both a critical husband and parents who wouldn’t let go. There was no opportunity after that for her to do good or evil, or to make a choice to embrace or avoid suffering.

It’s very sad, but not the heroic stuff of which a saint is made.


Why is it a bad thing to call someone a pussy?

Yeah, really. As the proprietress of one I can tell you that it’s quite seriously insulting to know that for many men, the absolute WORST thing they can be called is “pussy.” Gosh, if it’s so appalling to you, quit trying to get it all the time.


No, no, no, it’s wrong and demeaning to women in general and you know it to refer to Michelle Malkin as “a cunt.” If you are inclined to criticize, it’s surely acceptable to call her “a moron” or “a racist fuckwit” or “the head editorialist for the junior-high-school newspaper” or “a hopeless waste of bandwidth” or “an utter shit-for-brains,” as all these things are incontrovertably true. And if that’s not enough for you, feel free to get all eireish and denominate her

a bark for buffeting,
a hound for thornypaws.
a doe for swiftness.
a tree for wind-siege.
a windmill.
a hole in a wall.
the breast of a young queen,
a thatching against rains.
a dark castle against bat-flutters.
a Connachtman’s ear.
a harpstring.
a gnat.

But when you call her “a cunt” you are assailing her over the mere accident of her being born female and that ain’t right, boys. Besides, MM’s kinda cute, you know. Especially when she bugs her eyes way out the way she does.


I prefer insults to be absolutely demeaning — that’s the point. Also, it seems that offending someone’s delicate sensibility is pretty close to the essence of funny. And it doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.

You got to admit that taking offense is often penance for the sin of insecurity.


Cry, the beloved vegetable.


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