Oh Danny Boy, teh Pipes are calling…

…nd the filthy wogs too bad.

Also, they believe the same thing about people in this country who don’t agree with them.

Luckily for us, that is now also most of us.

“As these quotes suggest, the general take on the treaty is positive. That’s very important, for if one misunderstands the 1979 treaty, its repetition becomes, unfortunately, the more likely. (March 26, 2009).”

What does this mean?

The general view is that the accord was positive 30 years later. It will be important not to repeat the mistake of the accord?

Given my own dim view of the treaty, I watch with interest what other observers have to say about it this week, on the occasion of its anniversary.

IOW, hey I really am a crank – alone in the woods screaming about teh scaree a-rabs!

“war can be concluded through negotiations rather than by one side giving up”

What liberal hogwash! Everyone knows a war cannot be concluded by “one side giving up”. No, sir, only way is extermination, how many times do we have to go over it. We are so close, anyway… 60% of children in Gaza are malnourished and with anemias…

Looks like Zappa on Crossfire, circa 1986.

I blame that accord for making the US a vassal state of Israel.

The general view is that the accord was positive 30 years later. It will be important not to repeat the mistake of the accord?

Let me translate it for you:
It was a mistake to have the accord because then the Israelis weren’t killing the filthy Ayrabs any more. That mistake should not be repeated.

“[w]ar can be concluded through negotiations rather than by one side giving up.”

Which is a perfectly reasonable hope, unless one is an ignorant fucking thug.

If Marvin Olasky mated with Charles Krauthammer (but claimed that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was the real father) their child’s poop would look like Daniel “Crack” Pipes.

Hey, watch it TF. FZ was always clean-shaven, ‘cept for the signature Imperial.

Mencken, dig you no matter what, but thanks for a short & sweet (Well, sour, really.) one.

And I could mention that due to the peace agreement, the U. S. gov’t. subsidizes, to the tune of billions annually, the repressive Egyptian gummint, which is busily creating more Islamo-fascist nutjobs by that repression, & grooming Mubarak’s son to be the next Prez-for-life-w/-a-pretend-election.

Meanwhile, parts of the IDF (The chaplains!!) seem to be taking Pipes’ attitude to heart. (OK, it’s a web log pimp, but I’m not going to make two effin’ links for you toadettes & toads. Just click, you don’t have to read.)

Hey! Go easy on the passive-aggressives! We won’t do anything (and you’ll be sorry!)

Okay now — who is this Pipes guy again? And I should care about what he says WHY, other than, whoever he is, he is perhaps blowing the bloghorn to alert fellow wingtards to jump on the DEMONcrats DEMONIZE bandwagon on this 30th anniversary of President Carter’s Nobel Peace Prize-winning detente brokerage that, if one chose to accentuate the positive, which of course now that Hussein X is Prez the contards will never do, actually accomplished a major peace-oriented initiative in the MidEast? Or am I a hopelessly deluded Pollyanna, of which I have never ever been accused.

Hey, thanks for pointing out that the wogs are evil and need to be exterminated.

You think we can bomb Iran now?

No? Ok.

How bout now?

You know, these conservatives’ writing really *is* like a bad Regency Romance. Affected, filled with $2.00 words, dumb metaphors, and too many adjectives. They should try emulating Stephen King. The result might be pretty funny.

M. Bouffant said,

Hey, watch it TF. FZ was always clean-shaven, ‘cept for the signature Imperial.

And Zappa was an arab to boot:
http://www.proud2blebanese.com/famous_lebanese.cfm?p2bl_id=268

He looks like the genie in the bottle who won’t grant you three wishes.

Well, to be fair, a person w/ all of the Mediterranean behind him. One side of the family was Greeks who moved to Italy before arriving here.

Glen Reynolds will soon have the sex partner of his dreams.

Japanese scientists say they have finally developed the technological know-how to make robots that look, walk and even think a bit like us.

One doesn’t have to idealize the Egypt-Israel-US (in reality) treaty in order to see it as more desirable than another actual war.

Similar, the hawkopaths don’t give the slightest sh*t that their current favorite policies re. Gaza make Egypt’s miserable tyranny more rather than less vulnerable to fundamentalist Muslim uprisings within Egypt.

No, people like Pipes would love to see Egypt more under control of Muslim Brotherhood related groups, if not the entire government, so that they could feel the pulse-pounding throbbing excitement of a full-out Israel-Egypt-Iran-Syria-Lebanon war coursing through their nether regions.

I bought my first television set to watch Anwar Sadat visit Israel in November 1977

Gaaahh!!! I fucking hate pretentious ass-holes like that. My parental units deprived me of a television until 1964 (they finally broke down & bought one so they could watch Goldwater get nominated at the ’64 GOP convention, f’r cryin out loud) & I blame that for making me the un-socialized AmeriKKKa-hater that I am today. (Oh hell, I hate everything, who am I kidding?)

I bought my first television set to watch Grover Cleveland’s inauguration.

Admit it Snorg, you had to make it from a kit, & your hands were scarred w/ solder burns for yrs.

One doesn’t have to idealize the Egypt-Israel-US (in reality) treaty in order to see it as more desirable than another actual war.

Yeah, I wondered when we’d get away from this “some say” bullshit, and note that a situation where actual human beings don’t die violent deaths tends to be better than sudden, random violence as a standard practice.

No, people like Pipes would love to see Egypt more under control of Muslim Brotherhood related groups, if not the entire government, so that they could feel the pulse-pounding throbbing excitement of a full-out Israel-Egypt-Iran-Syria-Lebanon war coursing through their nether regions.

Exactly. A grand, glorious, “clash of civilizations” in which they do not fight, nor from it suffer collateral damage. (Hell, maybe they even own stock in arms dealers!)

The English language has many faults, among them, it lacks adequate means to express the loathing and utter contempt I feel for such persons, and the my sadness in sharing a species and planet with them.

MzNicky, I was going to answer your question as to who this Pipes guy is by saying he wrote a few books on Russian history that I read a long time ago: Russia Under the Old Regime, The Russian Revolution, Russia Under the Bolshevik Regime, etc. Turns out that was Richard Pipes. [Emily Litella] Never Mind! [/Emily Litella]

The last book by Daniel Pipes (I just looked in the King County catalog) is: Conspiracy : How The Paranoid Style Flourishes And Where It Comes From. I guess he would know about that. That’s from 1997, though; what has he done for us lately?

Seriously: Do you think these loons are going to give the Devil Incarnate, Jimmy Carter, credit for anything? Now that they have this time-machine theory going, though, maybe they could apply that. If Barack Obama could go back in time to fake his Birth Certificate and that birth announcement in the newspaper, maybe Saint Ronny of Alzheimers or the Shrub went back and brokered this agreement! Yeah, that’s the ticket!

If we allow them to credit anything good to their Culture Heroes, maybe they can embrace history instead of standing athwart it yelling: “Stop!” Or better yet, have them kneel over a drain and give them nine grams in the back of the head!

I had a $2 word, but it got bundled with some derivatives, and now it will cost me $3 to use it.

I bought my first television set to watch Grover Cleveland’s inauguration.

He was okay until the helmet and the cape and all that Super Grover shit.

A horrible link:

http://lawrenceofcyberia.blogs.com/news/2009/03/the-smaller-they-are-the-harder-it-is-its-not-just-a-slogan-on-a-tshirt-3.html

Admit it Snorg, you had to make it from a kit, & your hands were scarred w/ solder burns for yrs.

The solder scars were small shit. The real problem was the scalding I got when the boilers for the steam-powered vacuum tubes exploded.

I’m really a masturbation move.

The problem of many 18th century televisions was the low scan rate and lack of color accuracy of all those pigeons carrying candles flying left to right, top to bottom of the ‘screen’..

Yeah, that “peace” treaty was a real disaster all right. There have been how many wars between Egypt and Israel since then? Oh, yeah. None.

Yeah, those were the days, when the telebision was bigger than your house, & it took a black gang shoveling coal into the boiler 24/7. All that, & only one channel.

More shots of the future Dr. Helen. The one on the left is supposed to be “angry,” but she (oops, it) looks more “come-hither” to me. The right is supposed to be “surprise.”

Robots on the runway

I do like the continuing stoooooooooory of Has Prince Charles converted to Islam? that seems to bother Mr. Pipes more than somewhat.
Amongst the other pieces of compelling evidence we can read

He “spent a considerable time at an exhibition of Islamic calligraphy

Now that Sheik Obama bin Laden is in power in America, how long can it before the Extra Super Big Caliphate (TM) happens. Wet your beds now, beat the flood.

Soldering scars? Paradise! We had to scavange for cathode tubes from the local garbage dump and hand-wire them into grotesquely vulgar wood-veneer cabinets with nothing but our own bare hands and lighter fluid! I’ve gone through life with nothing but charred stumps for “hands”! And we LIKED it!

He “spent a considerable time at an exhibition of Islamic calligraphy
Spending a considerable time at an exhibition of unclothed ladies does not mean that I am about to change sex.

Pipes must have hated 18th and 19th century British and French colonialists, who took part in many more ‘native’ rituals than Prince ‘No the Queen Will Not Let You Be King’ Charles has.

Since there has been no update since March of 2008, we can only assume that Prince Charles has figured out the best way to convert to Islam is to use the special simultaneous birthing techno-magic of Obama Luo Soetaro, and be reborn simultaneously in Hawaii, Kansas, Kenya and Indonesia, which puts Prince Charles at the head of the list to lead Timbuktu University or even the Mali Empire.

Poor Smut Clyde, he thought it was a Scripter Club.

I’ve gone through life with nothing but charred stumps for “hands”!

Charred stumps? Luxury! I had to have my entire torso amputated.

And we could only dream of the joys of scavenging in garbage dumps. We had to build our tasteful blonde oak combination television set and high fidelity record player from whatever electronics gear we could scavenge from the lifeless depths of Death Valley in the 1880s, while we fended off raids by bloodthirsty Apaches and lived off the mummified carcasses of sidewinders and kangaroo rats. Our only source of water was our own sweat, and we were damn well thankful for it.

Looks like Zappa on Crossfire, circa 1986.

…warns against the rise of Christian fascism in the USA — and the other panelists just laugh and laugh. So funny that rock and roll fellow!

Amputated torso? You were lucky. We had to stump about on our charred wrists, our torsos and lower extremities having been gradually gnawed away by the rats in the garbage dumps as we scraped around, our charred wrists our only means of locomotion, grubbing through the offcast chicken bones and stretched-out Playtex girdles and discarded bags of blood- and feces-soaked rags, searching for that last bit of copper wire and vacuum tubes and whatever electrical waveforms-representing oscilloscopes may be lying about. And we were thankful, we were!

Stop sneaking into our exhibitions, you awful Smut!

Appease porridge hot,
Appease porridge cold.
Appease porridge in the pot,
Three decades old!

You had copper wires? That must have been heaven!

Since we were living in a state of sub-Paleolithic savagery, we had no metals at all. In order to transmit electrical impulses we were forced to rip out our own nervous systems and use them in place of wires. Of course, since our bodies were left without any neural networks we could only flop about spasmodically in the fierce desert sun, powerless to fend off the pitiless clouds of locusts that devoured our flesh or the aggressive banana slugs that ate our nostril hairs. And we considered ourselves goddamned lucky.

Yeah, blame us for everything.

If you had bananas worth noticing, we wouldn’t have gone after your nostril hairs.

Jeez, once i was so poor that I couldn’t afford the 25¢ for a pay toilet, so I had to vomit instead.

Guess I shouldn’t complain.

“Playtex girdles.” Heh. Memories …

No question Prince Chas. is goofy, but just because he isn’t calling for reverse-jihad on the Moooslims doesn’t mean he’s “secretly converted.”

Except to Pipes-head, of course.

When I was a child, my enzymes were repossessed by the First National Bank of Organic Matter.

… just because (Prince Charles) isn’t calling for reverse-jihad on the Moooslims doesn’t mean he’s “secretly converted.”

I dunno. He’s shown an interest in Islamic art and architecture and he ate “with a large congregation of people from different nationalities…” I say we string him up.

I grew up in remote Alaska where we didn’t have TV until about 1973. Before then, on long winter nights we’d chop a slab of smooth river ice about 18″x24″x4″ and bring it into the hut, prop it up on a Blazo box, and stare fixedly at it while it melted. Audio was provided by the keening of lovelorn shrews in the walls, along with wailing wolves in the distance.

Those were the days, my firiends…

Desert sun? Luxury! We flopped about without your fancy “nervous sytems” or “neural networks” as amorphous invertebrates in subfreezing temperatures, sliming our way through garbage dumps, using only our charred frostbitten wrists to punch the frozen ground and gravitate our way around rusted-out boxsprings, old love letters, mounds of shorted-out crystal radio sets and record players sans tone arms from too many childish games of carousel toy-spinning and speed-setting terrorizing of younger siblings, and the heartbroken discarded tools of fallout-shelter diggings and wretched home-workshop turned-leg coffee tables covered in the icy frost of new winter mornings from which we stumped our handless torso-less way back home with our pitiful scavengings, leaving slime-covered trails in the snow. And we were grateful!

–Firiends? Oh well.

…we stumped our handless torso-less way back home with our pitiful scavengings…

If only we had had a home!

We repeatedly tried to scratch out a shallow depression in the ground, a place where we could huddle together and maybe groom each other for lice. But even this was denied us. Scorpions emerged from the sands and stung us with their poisonous tails, inflicting unspeakable agony, causing us to break out in hideous boils and pustules, and forcing us to endlessly, sleeplessly crawl across the empty wastelands. The only thing that kept us going was the dream of someday watching the TV we were assembling. And when the day finally came to turn it on, we only picked up eight minutes of a bass-fishing show hosted by Sonny Bono before the set shorted out and burned up as we groaned and howled in the most abject despair any living organisms have ever experienced. And we thought ourselves fortunate.

We had to scavange for cathode tubes from the local garbage dump and hand-wire them into grotesquely vulgar wood-veneer cabinets with nothing but our own bare hands and lighter fluid! I’ve gone through life with nothing but charred stumps for “hands”! And we LIKED it!

I had to have my entire torso amputated.

And we could only dream of the joys of scavenging in garbage dumps. We had to build our tasteful blonde oak combination television set and high fidelity record player from whatever electronics gear we could scavenge from the lifeless depths of Death Valley in the 1880s, while we fended off raids by bloodthirsty Apaches and lived off the mummified carcasses of sidewinders and kangaroo rats. Our only source of water was our own sweat, and we were damn well thankful for it.

You were lucky. We had to stump about on our charred wrists, our torsos and lower extremities having been gradually gnawed away by the rats in the garbage dumps as we scraped around, our charred wrists our only means of locomotion, grubbing through the offcast chicken bones and stretched-out Playtex girdles and discarded bags of blood- and feces-soaked rags, searching for that last bit of copper wire and vacuum tubes and whatever electrical waveforms-representing oscilloscopes may be lying about. And we were thankful, we were!

Since we were living in a state of sub-Paleolithic savagery, we had no metals at all. In order to transmit electrical impulses we were forced to rip out our own nervous systems and use them in place of wires. Of course, since our bodies were left without any neural networks we could only flop about spasmodically in the fierce desert sun, powerless to fend off the pitiless clouds of locusts that devoured our flesh or the aggressive banana slugs that ate our nostril hairs. And we considered ourselves goddamned lucky.

We flopped about without your fancy “nervous sytems” or “neural networks” as amorphous invertebrates in subfreezing temperatures, sliming our way through garbage dumps, using only our charred frostbitten wrists to punch the frozen ground and gravitate our way around rusted-out boxsprings, old love letters, mounds of shorted-out crystal radio sets and record players sans tone arms from too many childish games of carousel toy-spinning and speed-setting terrorizing of younger siblings, and the heartbroken discarded tools of fallout-shelter diggings and wretched home-workshop turned-leg coffee tables covered in the icy frost of new winter mornings from which we stumped our handless torso-less way back home with our pitiful scavengings, leaving slime-covered trails in the snow. And we were grateful!

We repeatedly tried to scratch out a shallow depression in the ground, a place where we could huddle together and maybe groom each other for lice. But even this was denied us. Scorpions emerged from the sands and stung us with their poisonous tails, inflicting unspeakable agony, causing us to break out in hideous boils and pustules, and forcing us to endlessly, sleeplessly crawl across the empty wastelands. The only thing that kept us going was the dream of someday watching the TV we were assembling. And when the day finally came to turn it on, we only picked up eight minutes of a bass-fishing show hosted by Sonny Bono before the set shorted out and burned up as we groaned and howled in the most abject despair any living organisms have ever experienced. And we thought ourselves fortunate.

And I did it MYYYYYY WAYYYY!!

If only we had had a home!

I’m currently dead, and I’ve died every day of my life. Usually my parents kill me, and then laugh. Tomorrow I will be resurrected, only to live another day in hell and be killed again. Only to be sent straight to hell.

Top that, bitches.

Exactly. A grand, glorious, “clash of civilizations” in which they do not fight, nor from it suffer collateral damage. (Hell, maybe they even own stock in arms dealers!)

The English language has many faults, among them, it lacks adequate means to express the loathing and utter contempt I feel for such persons, and the my sadness in sharing a species and planet with them.

You are right. You can almost sense the palpable tone of extreme disappointment from bloodthirstly pricks like Pipes that there has been no Muslim pogrom, clash of civilizations, or WW3. You would almost think that he gets a good hard stiffy at the though of millions of dead Muslims……

(see also Chuckie Johnstone, costco Coulter, pammycakes and Steyn…)

BTW, this is the funniest thread in the history of everything.

I’m currently dead, and I’ve died every day of my life. Usually my parents kill me, and then laugh. Tomorrow I will be resurrected, only to live another day in hell and be killed again. Only to be sent straight to hell.

Well, I’m currently in limbo, and get resurrected every afternoon, so that I can read random Townhall pages, then get brutally murdered by Islamofachist abortion hordes, who also laugh. I then go back into limbo, where I will have to listen to The Sugarbabes for the rest of my existence. That’s it, for eternity,

top that, bitches…

I’m stuck here 24/7/365.

top taht, britches!!

Did I forget to mention that those slabs of river ice were painfully chiseled out with the jagged severed ends of our long bones, truncated by rabid polar bears?

top that, bitches…

I am nothing but a brain in a jar.

And not even a mayonnaise jar. Miracle Whip!

Hah! Jar! Luxury!

I’m nothing but a brain in a sandwich bag!

I’m an irritable spleen with nowhere to vent, which gets mighty odoriferous.

Brain! What luxury!

etc.

Brain? Sheer luxury.

etc.

heh

Here kitty, kitty, jump in this box!

Yeah, it’s just too bad that whole “peace treaty” thing never works out as a way to end a war – why, take for example the millions & millions of innocent victims that’ve been killed in Korea since the 50s in the endless … the … er …

The wikipedia entry on Professor Pipes* is full of information, including one of the saddest bits of presumably subject-written snobbery I have ever read:

Pipes attended the Harvard pre-school, then received a private school education, partly abroad.

I still think Yale holds the pre-eminent position as “Ivy Whose Graduates Have Done the Most to Damage America & Probably the World”, but individuals like Pipes make it easy to understand why Harvard is despised by a great many people as well.

* (“… is the murderer, in the Negev, with a blunt object”)

Hmmph. I remember when we used to think that someday there’d be matter, and we would exist. Sand, scorpions, broken bones — luxury. Every morning my parents would wake us up to explain that we were too poor to exist yet, in fact there wasn’t even any time or form whatsoever. We’d think of the future, when someday there would be seconds to tick by, or hours to pass, and maybe even fancy particles to buzz about and create a sense of mass. But not for us. We’d have to go back and continue to work hard each and every non-second at our formless chaos. And we were grateful, or at least we would have been, probably.

Huh. We were so poor we couldn’t even afford parents — our grandparents had to skip a generation and have us directly.

OT, but isn’t this company owned by the company the last VPOTUS works for? No, that would be impossible; KBR is probably run by Jimmy Carter and Bill Ayers.
As for Dorgan’s question, it’s because, like the AIG bonuses, KBR’s right to do this work is a matter of CONTRACT! In fact, no-bid contract.

“…Last year, 94 troops stationed in Iraq, Afghanistan or other Central Command countries sought medical treatment for electric shock, according to Defense Department health data. KBR’s database lists 231 electric shock incidents in the more than 89,000 facilities the company runs in Iraq, according to military records.

KBR is the target of a wrongful death lawsuit filed by Maseth’s family. They claim the company knew there were electrical problems in the building where he died, but didn’t fix them. His mother testified last year on Capitol Hill.

Army investigators have since reclassified Maseth’s death as negligent homicide caused by KBR and two of its supervisors. An Army investigator said KBR failed to ensure work was done by qualified electricians and plumbers. The case is under legal review.

“KBR is not responsible for the electrocution deaths widely reported, including that of Staff Sgt. Ryan Maseth,” Heather Browne, a KBR spokeswoman, said in an e-mail.

KBR and another contractor, Arkel International, are the targets of a second lawsuit, filed by the family of another soldier electrocuted in Iraq, Staff Sgt. Christopher Lee Everett, 23, of Huntsville, Texas. Everett, a member of the Texas Army National Guard, was killed in September 2005 when the power washer he was using to clean a vehicle short-circuited.

Task Force SAFE inspectors found many of the facilities that fall under KBR’s contract have electrical problems, according to an internal military document obtained by The Associated Press. Of the 20,340 maintained by KBR and inspected so far, 6,935 failed the government inspection, the document said. When about 2,000 of the buildings with faulty work were re-inspected, the facilities passed, the document said.

The Defense Contract Management Agency has accepted KBR’s plans to correct the problems, according to the document the AP obtained. It said the agency will closely oversee KBR’s work.

Sen. Byron Dorgan, D-N.D., questioned why KBR has been allowed to continue to perform electrical work in Iraq. He said the military should take a more careful look at the electrical work in Afghanistan, too, where KBR also has a large contract for electrical work.

“If they found widespread problems, the obvious question is why has there not been action to remove the contract and bring in another contractor?” Dorgan said.”

I’m currently dead, and I’ve died every day of my life. Usually my parents kill me, and then laugh. Tomorrow I will be resurrected, only to live another day in hell and be killed again. Only to be sent straight to hell.
Top that, bitches.

Hah! Jar! Luxury!
I’m nothing but a brain in a sandwich bag!

I’m an irritable spleen with nowhere to vent, which gets mighty odoriferous.

Well, I’m currently in limbo, and get resurrected every afternoon, so that I can read random Townhall pages, then get brutally murdered by Islamofachist abortion hordes, who also laugh. I then go back into limbo, where I will have to listen to The Sugarbabes for the rest of my existence. That’s it, for eternity,

top that, bitches…

I’ve got you all beat.

I’m Kathryn Jean Lopez…and I know it.

I’m here and grateful to you guys for making me laugh.

Top that.

“As these quotes suggest, the general take on the treaty is positive.”

Yeah, people are stupid like that: judging a peace treaty by the absence of war after its signing.

He “spent a considerable time at an exhibition of Islamic calligraphy

Wow, and since when has an amateur watercolorist ever been interested in looking at art which relies on intricate, skillful brushwork?!! Since never, that’s when!

The man looks like a mad mullah out of central casting himself.

“[w]ar can be concluded through negotiations rather than by one side giving up.”

What side did give up at the conclusion of the war of 1814? The US?

Of course, since our bodies were left without any neural networks we could only flop about spasmodically

OK, which one of you hid a videocam to record my sex life?

I get fucked every 15 minutes by a wingnut. I smell like cheetos and chlorine.

I propose Pipes bears a resemblance to this person:
http://www.patfullerton.com/superman/pix/phantomzone/non.jpg
Because if Superman II isn’t a metaphor for our times, what is?

“What side did give up at the conclusion of the war of 1814? The US?”

Wikipedia’s entry for the Battle of New Orleans is elucidative.

We don’t believe you

parsec said: Yeah, that “peace” treaty was a real disaster all right. There have been how many wars between Egypt and Israel since then? Oh, yeah. None.

Silly parsec. Don’t you know that peace treaties are just ways for superior people to fool Teh Evildoers into putting down their weapons so the superior people can kill them all? There aren’t any wars after that! So this peace treaty is an obvious failure, because there’s still an Egypt!

We used to look forward to Tuesday, because that was the day the television man would come and fill up the set for another week. We hoarded those precious hours for Sunday night, but Dad always fell asleep in front of the set on Friday night, and it would be empty the next morning, so it was years before we even saw what weekend television was like. Rap music! Pssshhh!