By Paul Joseph Watson InfoWars
President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan is perfect in every way – perfect that is if you think the role of the highest judicial body in the United States is to ban free speech, indefinitely detain Americans without trial, resurrect command and control socialism, while urinating on everything the Constitution stands for.
We already discovered Kagan’s penchant for treating Americans as guilty until proven innocent, or in fact just plain guilty without even the chance to be proven innocent, when she was quoted as saying, “That someone suspected of helping finance Al Qaeda should be subject to battlefield law — indefinite detention without a trial — even if he were captured in a place like the Philippines rather than a physical battle zone.”
So under that definition, if you send money to a charity later linked with some nebulous terrorist group then you are financing Al-Qaeda and could be thrown in Gitmo or some other CIA black site never to be seen again. And this is the woman being forwarded to sit on a body that is supposed to safeguard civil liberties? That would be like hiring Charles Manson to coach the high school basketball team.
But it gets worse. Now we learn that Kagan thinks certain expressions of free speech should be ‘disappeared’ if the government deems them to be offensive. On the surface that’s any opinion on racial, sexuality or gender issues, but since criticizing Obama is now deemed racist, where will it all end?
In a 1993 University of Chicago Law review article, Kagan wrote, “I take it as a given that we live in a society marred by racial and gender inequality, that certain forms of speech perpetuate and promote this inequality, and that the uncoerced disappearance of such speech would be cause for great elation.” (emphasis mine).
“In a 1996 paper, “Private Speech, Public Purpose: The Role of Governmental Motive in First Amendment Doctrine,” Kagan argued it may be proper to suppress speech because it is offensive to society or to the government,” reports World Net Daily.
Kagan also argued as recently as September that corporations shouldn’t be allowed to engage in free speech, and that the government can censor things like newspaper editorials, as well as the political opinions of radio talk show hosts or television reporters.
Chief Justice John Roberts blasted Kagan’s argument at the time, reports Newsmax.
“The government urges us in this case to uphold a direct prohibition on political speech. It asks us to embrace a theory of the First Amendment that would allow censorship not only of television and radio broadcasts, but of pamphlets, posters, the Internet, and virtually any other medium that corporations and unions might find useful in expressing their views on matters of public concern,” he wrote.
Kagan’s standpoint on free speech, that it is subject to regulation and definition by the government, has no place in America, completely violates the fundamental premise of the First Amendment, that even unpopular speech should be protected, and would be better suited for countries like Iran, Zimbabwe or North Korea.
Little surprise therefore when we learn that in her undergraduate thesis at Princeton, Kagan lamented the decline of socialism in the U.S. as “sad” for those who still hope to “change America.”
If Kagan is approved she is going to find an eager ally in White House information czar Cass Sunstein, who in a January 2008 white paper entitled “Conspiracy Theories,” called for the government to tax and outright censor political viewpoints it deemed unsavory.
Kenny’s Sideshow: A Great Reason to Reject Kagan — ADL Approved “Most of the rest of the country is in a fog and couldn’t care less.”
CKK.
Ben Hughes, a 55-year-old father-of-three with no known links to any paramilitary organisation, became the eighth victim of the latest month-long spiral of violence. He was shot as he left the car components shop where he worked.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/49696.stm
sorta proves my point as regards civil war.
No?
“Even now there are places where a thought might grow…”
Let’s forgive this Ulsterman Mahon his misguided and indirect holohoaxing. (Or, does he mean that truly they were “lost” at Treblinka? After all, their bodies just disappeared.) How was he to know about the big lie? He was suspectly awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and The David Cohen Prize for Literature, which he should have by rights pissed on. Shall we give him the benefit of he dought?
Anyway, the sentiment is good, even if he misidentifies the source of our inflictions. He sums up our existence in this world run by Christ-Killers, even if he’s too jaded to Name the Christ-Killer.
The Asphodel Meadows is the part of Hades where the indifferent and ordinary souls spend eternity. The Asphodel Meadows is where the souls of people who lived lives of near equal good and evil (the ideal of the rabbinate and their Masonic catamites) live on Asphodel flowers, in a less perfect version of life on earth. A place of utter neutrality. All residents drink from the river Lethe before entering the meadows, thus losing their identities and becoming automatons.
Homer:
“The ghost of clean-heeled Achilles marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel.”
[The Odyssey, Rouse translation]
A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford.
By Derk Mahon
“Let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels.” *
(Seferis — ‘Mythistorema’)
Even now there are places where a thought might grow —
Peruvian mines, worked out and abandoned
To a slow clock of condensation,
An echo trapped forever, and a flutter
Of wildflowers in the lift-shaft,
Indian compounds where the wind dances
And a door bangs with diminished confidence,
Lime crevices behind rippling rainbarrels,
Dog corners for bone burials;
And a disused shed in Co. Wexford,
Deep in the grounds of a burnt-out hotel,
Among the bathtubs and the washbasins
A thousand mushrooms crowd to a keyhole.
This is the one star in their firmament
Or frames a star within a star.
What should they do there but desire?
So many days beyond the rhododendrons
With the world waltzing in its bowl of cloud,
They have learnt patience and silence
Listening to the rooks querulous in the high wood.
They have been waiting for us in a foetor
Of vegetable sweat since civil war days,
Since the gravel-crunching, interminable departure
of the expropriated mycologist.
He never came back, and light since then
Is a keyhole rusting gently after rain.
Spiders have spun, flies dusted to mildew
And once a day, perhaps, they have heard something —
A trickle of masonry, a shout from the blue
Or a lorry changing gear at the end of the lane.
There have been deaths, the pale flesh flaking
Into the earth that nourished it;
And nightmares, born of these and the grim
Dominion of stale air and rank moisture.
Those nearest the door growing strong —
‘Elbow room! Elbow room!’
The rest, dim in a twilight of crumbling
Utensils and broken flower-pots, groaning
For their deliverance, have been so long
Expectant that there is left only the posture.
A half century, without visitors, in the dark —
Poor preparation for the cracking lock
And creak of hinges. Magi, moonmen,
Powdery prisoners of the old regime,
Web-throated, stalked like triffids, racked by drought
And insomnia, only the ghost of a scream
At the flashbulb firing squad we wake them with
Shows there is life yet in their feverish forms.
Grown beyond nature now, soft food for worms,
They lift frail heads in gravity and good faith.
They are begging us, you see, in their wordless way,
To do something, to speak on their behalf
Or at least not to close the door again.
Lost people of Treblinka and Pompeii!
‘Save us, save us,’ they seem to say,
‘Let the god not abandon us
Who have come so far in darkness and in pain.
We too had our lives to live.
You with your light meter and relaxed itinerary,
Let not our naive labours have been in vain!’
“Even now there are places where a thought might grow…”
Let’s forgive this Ulsterman Mahon his misguided and indirect holohoaxing. (Or, does he mean that truly they were “lost” at Treblinka? After all, their bodies just disappeared.) How was he to know about the big lie? He was suspectly awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and The David Cohen Prize for Literature, which he should have by rights pissed on. Shall we give him the benefit of he dought?
Anyway, the sentiment is good, even if he misidentifies the source of our inflictions. He sums up our existence in this world run by Christ-Killers, even if he’s too jaded to Name the Christ-Killer.
The Asphodel Meadows is the part of Hades where the indifferent and ordinary souls spend eternity. The Asphodel Meadows is where the souls of people who lived lives of near equal good and evil (the ideal of the rabbinate and their Masonic catamites) live on Asphodel flowers, in a less perfect version of life on earth. A place of utter neutrality. All residents drink from the river Lethe before entering the meadows, thus losing their identities and becoming automatons.
Homer:
“The ghost of clean-heeled Achilles marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel.”
[The Odyssey, Rouse translation]
A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford.
By Derk Mahon
“Let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels.” *
(Seferis — ‘Mythistorema’)
Even now there are places where a thought might grow —
Peruvian mines, worked out and abandoned
To a slow clock of condensation,
An echo trapped forever, and a flutter
Of wildflowers in the lift-shaft,
Indian compounds where the wind dances
And a door bangs with diminished confidence,
Lime crevices behind rippling rainbarrels,
Dog corners for bone burials;
And a disused shed in Co. Wexford,
Deep in the grounds of a burnt-out hotel,
Among the bathtubs and the washbasins
A thousand mushrooms crowd to a keyhole.
This is the one star in their firmament
Or frames a star within a star.
What should they do there but desire?
So many days beyond the rhododendrons
With the world waltzing in its bowl of cloud,
They have learnt patience and silence
Listening to the rooks querulous in the high wood.
They have been waiting for us in a foetor
Of vegetable sweat since civil war days,
Since the gravel-crunching, interminable departure
of the expropriated mycologist.
He never came back, and light since then
Is a keyhole rusting gently after rain.
Spiders have spun, flies dusted to mildew
And once a day, perhaps, they have heard something —
A trickle of masonry, a shout from the blue
Or a lorry changing gear at the end of the lane.
There have been deaths, the pale flesh flaking
Into the earth that nourished it;
And nightmares, born of these and the grim
Dominion of stale air and rank moisture.
Those nearest the door growing strong —
‘Elbow room! Elbow room!’
The rest, dim in a twilight of crumbling
Utensils and broken flower-pots, groaning
For their deliverance, have been so long
Expectant that there is left only the posture.
A half century, without visitors, in the dark —
Poor preparation for the cracking lock
And creak of hinges. Magi, moonmen,
Powdery prisoners of the old regime,
Web-throated, stalked like triffids, racked by drought
And insomnia, only the ghost of a scream
At the flashbulb firing squad we wake them with
Shows there is life yet in their feverish forms.
Grown beyond nature now, soft food for worms,
They lift frail heads in gravity and good faith.
They are begging us, you see, in their wordless way,
To do something, to speak on their behalf
Or at least not to close the door again.
Lost people of Treblinka and Pompeii!
‘Save us, save us,’ they seem to say,
‘Let the god not abandon us
Who have come so far in darkness and in pain.
We too had our lives to live.
You with your light meter and relaxed itinerary,
Let not our naive labours have been in vain!’
“Even now there are places where a thought might grow…”
Let’s forgive this Ulsterman Mahon his misguided and indirect holohoaxing. (Or, does he mean that truly they were “lost” at Treblinka? After all, their bodies just disappeared.) How was he to know about the big lie? He was suspectly awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and The David Cohen Prize for Literature, which he should have by rights pissed on. Shall we give him the benefit of he dought?
Anyway, the sentiment is good, even if he misidentifies the source of our inflictions. He sums up our existence in this world run by Christ-Killers, even if he’s too jaded to Name the Christ-Killer.
The Asphodel Meadows is the part of Hades where the indifferent and ordinary souls spend eternity. The Asphodel Meadows is where the souls of people who lived lives of near equal good and evil (the ideal of the rabbinate and their Masonic catamites) live on Asphodel flowers, in a less perfect version of life on earth. A place of utter neutrality. All residents drink from the river Lethe before entering the meadows, thus losing their identities and becoming automatons.
Homer:
“The ghost of clean-heeled Achilles marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel.”
[The Odyssey, Rouse translation]
A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford.
By Derk Mahon
“Let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels.” *
(Seferis — ‘Mythistorema’)
Even now there are places where a thought might grow —
Peruvian mines, worked out and abandoned
To a slow clock of condensation,
An echo trapped forever, and a flutter
Of wildflowers in the lift-shaft,
Indian compounds where the wind dances
And a door bangs with diminished confidence,
Lime crevices behind rippling rainbarrels,
Dog corners for bone burials;
And a disused shed in Co. Wexford,
Deep in the grounds of a burnt-out hotel,
Among the bathtubs and the washbasins
A thousand mushrooms crowd to a keyhole.
This is the one star in their firmament
Or frames a star within a star.
What should they do there but desire?
So many days beyond the rhododendrons
With the world waltzing in its bowl of cloud,
They have learnt patience and silence
Listening to the rooks querulous in the high wood.
They have been waiting for us in a foetor
Of vegetable sweat since civil war days,
Since the gravel-crunching, interminable departure
of the expropriated mycologist.
He never came back, and light since then
Is a keyhole rusting gently after rain.
Spiders have spun, flies dusted to mildew
And once a day, perhaps, they have heard something —
A trickle of masonry, a shout from the blue
Or a lorry changing gear at the end of the lane.
There have been deaths, the pale flesh flaking
Into the earth that nourished it;
And nightmares, born of these and the grim
Dominion of stale air and rank moisture.
Those nearest the door growing strong —
‘Elbow room! Elbow room!’
The rest, dim in a twilight of crumbling
Utensils and broken flower-pots, groaning
For their deliverance, have been so long
Expectant that there is left only the posture.
A half century, without visitors, in the dark —
Poor preparation for the cracking lock
And creak of hinges. Magi, moonmen,
Powdery prisoners of the old regime,
Web-throated, stalked like triffids, racked by drought
And insomnia, only the ghost of a scream
At the flashbulb firing squad we wake them with
Shows there is life yet in their feverish forms.
Grown beyond nature now, soft food for worms,
They lift frail heads in gravity and good faith.
They are begging us, you see, in their wordless way,
To do something, to speak on their behalf
Or at least not to close the door again.
Lost people of Treblinka and Pompeii!
‘Save us, save us,’ they seem to say,
‘Let the god not abandon us
Who have come so far in darkness and in pain.
We too had our lives to live.
You with your light meter and relaxed itinerary,
Let not our naive labours have been in vain!’
“Even now there are places where a thought might grow…”
Let’s forgive this Ulsterman Mahon his misguided and indirect holohoaxing. (Or, does he mean that truly they were “lost” at Treblinka? After all, their bodies just disappeared.) How was he to know about the big lie? He was suspectly awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and The David Cohen Prize for Literature, which he should have by rights pissed on. Shall we give him the benefit of he dought?
Anyway, the sentiment is good, even if he misidentifies the source of our inflictions. He sums up our existence in this world run by Christ-Killers, even if he’s too jaded to Name the Christ-Killer.
The Asphodel Meadows is the part of Hades where the indifferent and ordinary souls spend eternity. The Asphodel Meadows is where the souls of people who lived lives of near equal good and evil (the ideal of the rabbinate and their Masonic catamites) live on Asphodel flowers, in a less perfect version of life on earth. A place of utter neutrality. All residents drink from the river Lethe before entering the meadows, thus losing their identities and becoming automatons.
Homer:
“The ghost of clean-heeled Achilles marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel.”
[The Odyssey, Rouse translation]
A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford.
By Derk Mahon
“Let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels.” *
(Seferis — ‘Mythistorema’)
Even now there are places where a thought might grow —
Peruvian mines, worked out and abandoned
To a slow clock of condensation,
An echo trapped forever, and a flutter
Of wildflowers in the lift-shaft,
Indian compounds where the wind dances
And a door bangs with diminished confidence,
Lime crevices behind rippling rainbarrels,
Dog corners for bone burials;
And a disused shed in Co. Wexford,
Deep in the grounds of a burnt-out hotel,
Among the bathtubs and the washbasins
A thousand mushrooms crowd to a keyhole.
This is the one star in their firmament
Or frames a star within a star.
What should they do there but desire?
So many days beyond the rhododendrons
With the world waltzing in its bowl of cloud,
They have learnt patience and silence
Listening to the rooks querulous in the high wood.
They have been waiting for us in a foetor
Of vegetable sweat since civil war days,
Since the gravel-crunching, interminable departure
of the expropriated mycologist.
He never came back, and light since then
Is a keyhole rusting gently after rain.
Spiders have spun, flies dusted to mildew
And once a day, perhaps, they have heard something —
A trickle of masonry, a shout from the blue
Or a lorry changing gear at the end of the lane.
There have been deaths, the pale flesh flaking
Into the earth that nourished it;
And nightmares, born of these and the grim
Dominion of stale air and rank moisture.
Those nearest the door growing strong —
‘Elbow room! Elbow room!’
The rest, dim in a twilight of crumbling
Utensils and broken flower-pots, groaning
For their deliverance, have been so long
Expectant that there is left only the posture.
A half century, without visitors, in the dark —
Poor preparation for the cracking lock
And creak of hinges. Magi, moonmen,
Powdery prisoners of the old regime,
Web-throated, stalked like triffids, racked by drought
And insomnia, only the ghost of a scream
At the flashbulb firing squad we wake them with
Shows there is life yet in their feverish forms.
Grown beyond nature now, soft food for worms,
They lift frail heads in gravity and good faith.
They are begging us, you see, in their wordless way,
To do something, to speak on their behalf
Or at least not to close the door again.
Lost people of Treblinka and Pompeii!
‘Save us, save us,’ they seem to say,
‘Let the god not abandon us
Who have come so far in darkness and in pain.
We too had our lives to live.
You with your light meter and relaxed itinerary,
Let not our naive labours have been in vain!’
I thought that was LIMBO?
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRoJyaZW6SA&hl=en_GB&fs=1&]
Black as pitch.
Anonymous!!!
Umbrella drinks? Watch what you buy at the grocery store buddy 😀
http://usa.kosher.com/store/kosher-frozen-grocery/frozen-side-dishes/070978004164-kineret-onion-rings.html
Cal, the lad with the long hair, has been pressured by the IRA into driving getaway cars for robberies and into assisting in murders.
Crilly is the psychopath who does the killings.
Skeffington is the old Jewey-looking creep who runs the local ‘RA outfit.
Cal wants to quit. If he quits, Skeffie will have Crilly kill him, but here (in the following clip) they try to guilt him into doing his “patriotic duty”. “Dev on O’Connell Street blah blah blah … Oh Poor Pádraig Mac Piarais … weep weep weep.”
The same kind of rat-bastards send young Arabs out to blow their balls off so they can spend an impotent eternity with 72 houris.
The nonce Skeffington was probably no more at ‘Bloody Sunday’ than Slavemason Jesse Jackson was covered in Jewslave MLK’s blood.
For that matter, Bloody Sunday was probably planned out in the Kremlin or, more likely, at 60 Great Queen Street. Maximum chaos “needs” maximum order imposed.
Cal gets to hump Helen Mirren, back when normal young men would still have wanted to hump her, but he pays for it all in the end:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vb2g7smFtQo
Cal, the lad with the long hair, has been pressured by the IRA into driving getaway cars for robberies and into assisting in murders.
Crilly is the psychopath who does the killings.
Skeffington is the old Jewey-looking creep who runs the local ‘RA outfit.
Cal wants to quit. If he quits, Skeffie will have Crilly kill him, but here (in the following clip) they try to guilt him into doing his “patriotic duty”. “Dev on O’Connell Street blah blah blah … Oh Poor Pádraig Mac Piarais … weep weep weep.”
The same kind of rat-bastards send young Arabs out to blow their balls off so they can spend an impotent eternity with 72 houris.
The nonce Skeffington was probably no more at ‘Bloody Sunday’ than Slavemason Jesse Jackson was covered in Jewslave MLK’s blood.
For that matter, Bloody Sunday was probably planned out in the Kremlin or, more likely, at 60 Great Queen Street. Maximum chaos “needs” maximum order imposed.
Cal gets to hump Helen Mirren, back when normal young men would still have wanted to hump her, but he pays for it all in the end:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vb2g7smFtQo
Cal, the lad with the long hair, has been pressured by the IRA into driving getaway cars for robberies and into assisting in murders.
Crilly is the psychopath who does the killings.
Skeffington is the old Jewey-looking creep who runs the local ‘RA outfit.
Cal wants to quit. If he quits, Skeffie will have Crilly kill him, but here (in the following clip) they try to guilt him into doing his “patriotic duty”. “Dev on O’Connell Street blah blah blah … Oh Poor Pádraig Mac Piarais … weep weep weep.”
The same kind of rat-bastards send young Arabs out to blow their balls off so they can spend an impotent eternity with 72 houris.
The nonce Skeffington was probably no more at ‘Bloody Sunday’ than Slavemason Jesse Jackson was covered in Jewslave MLK’s blood.
For that matter, Bloody Sunday was probably planned out in the Kremlin or, more likely, at 60 Great Queen Street. Maximum chaos “needs” maximum order imposed.
Cal gets to hump Helen Mirren, back when normal young men would still have wanted to hump her, but he pays for it all in the end:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vb2g7smFtQo
Cal, the lad with the long hair, has been pressured by the IRA into driving getaway cars for robberies and into assisting in murders.
Crilly is the psychopath who does the killings.
Skeffington is the old Jewey-looking creep who runs the local ‘RA outfit.
Cal wants to quit. If he quits, Skeffie will have Crilly kill him, but here (in the following clip) they try to guilt him into doing his “patriotic duty”. “Dev on O’Connell Street blah blah blah … Oh Poor Pádraig Mac Piarais … weep weep weep.”
The same kind of rat-bastards send young Arabs out to blow their balls off so they can spend an impotent eternity with 72 houris.
The nonce Skeffington was probably no more at ‘Bloody Sunday’ than Slavemason Jesse Jackson was covered in Jewslave MLK’s blood.
For that matter, Bloody Sunday was probably planned out in the Kremlin or, more likely, at 60 Great Queen Street. Maximum chaos “needs” maximum order imposed.
Cal gets to hump Helen Mirren, back when normal young men would still have wanted to hump her, but he pays for it all in the end:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vb2g7smFtQo
On the other hand………..
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FZMspl_-nVI&hl=en_GB&fs=1&]
And not in nearly half a century has a Democratic president nominated a white Protestant or white Catholic man or woman….
http://judicial.coolpage.biz/34rbuchanan_complains_that_with_kag.htm
Yeah, sure, oppose censorship and shoot out kneecaps.
Yeah, sure, oppose censorship and shoot out kneecaps.
Yeah, sure, oppose censorship and shoot out kneecaps.
Yeah, sure, oppose censorship and shoot out kneecaps.
Let me know if I make a mistake here:
Thatcher lets Reagan use the UK to attack Qadaffi Duck.
Qadaffi declares war on the British and wants to arm the UDA.
Ivor Bell is appointed as IRA ambassador to Libya, and flies off with Joe Cahill to Tripoli.
Qadaffi meets with the UDA and Bell and Cahill; then arms the IRA, along with the Americans and Soviets.
The SAS now train Qadaffi’s private guard.
Such a plan!
Let me know if I make a mistake here:
Thatcher lets Reagan use the UK to attack Qadaffi Duck.
Qadaffi declares war on the British and wants to arm the UDA.
Ivor Bell is appointed as IRA ambassador to Libya, and flies off with Joe Cahill to Tripoli.
Qadaffi meets with the UDA and Bell and Cahill; then arms the IRA, along with the Americans and Soviets.
The SAS now train Qadaffi’s private guard.
Such a plan!
Let me know if I make a mistake here:
Thatcher lets Reagan use the UK to attack Qadaffi Duck.
Qadaffi declares war on the British and wants to arm the UDA.
Ivor Bell is appointed as IRA ambassador to Libya, and flies off with Joe Cahill to Tripoli.
Qadaffi meets with the UDA and Bell and Cahill; then arms the IRA, along with the Americans and Soviets.
The SAS now train Qadaffi’s private guard.
Such a plan!
Let me know if I make a mistake here:
Thatcher lets Reagan use the UK to attack Qadaffi Duck.
Qadaffi declares war on the British and wants to arm the UDA.
Ivor Bell is appointed as IRA ambassador to Libya, and flies off with Joe Cahill to Tripoli.
Qadaffi meets with the UDA and Bell and Cahill; then arms the IRA, along with the Americans and Soviets.
The SAS now train Qadaffi’s private guard.
Such a plan!
Hmm, are there men in Washington having wet dreams at the thought of mass round-ups?
It seems to me that the powerful “no talk” rule that Jews have erected around themselves since WWII, using the German Camps Story, is starting to come unraveled. Do you agree with this Incogman? Do you also observe that people are becoming willing to speak about Jewish power and Jewish manipulation?
Akira-
Helen Mirren was a specimen of hottiferous hottitudity when she was younger…not too bad in middle age either.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NSPlfi0lVA
J. Lee – “It seems to me that the powerful “no talk” rule that Jews have erected around themselves since WWII, using the German Camps Story, is starting to come unraveled. Do you agree with this Incogman? Do you also observe that people are becoming willing to speak about Jewish power and Jewish manipulation?”
While the people are beginning to remove the blindfold and gag apparently the press and most of congress isn’t following suit. To wit; MSM has been careful to avoid Kagan’s hostility towards the 1st Amendment and her Jewish background, even to the point of skirting Sen. Mitch McConnel’s vocal concerns over Kagan’s apparent willingness to view the 1st Amendment as a politically selective right. At this point in history the Supreme Court views pornography and animal cruelty as strongly protected by the 1st Amendment, in the near future expect Talmudic interpretation to extend to free speech in the form of banned publications, electronic communication, and public speaking when the topic under critique is connected to Jewish protected topics – homosexual, racial, holocaust revision, etc.
I’ve come to the conclusion that Lord Mountbatten was blown up by British Stupidity as was Airey Neave!
Well the fix is in. This yenta certainly illustrates the femocrat dictum that gender is just a construct. Since Jewish ethnicity is the major qualification for a Supreme – at least Chimpy could have appointed Angelina Jolie to make up the female quota of Supremes.
All she’s going to do on the Bench anyway is instruct America on how the gov’t is to use hate speech, anti semitism, homophobia, racism, sexism, undocumented Democrats streaming across the border to clean house and skin the Whites and the Christians.
This reminds me of a piece I read on John de Nugent’s website: the instruction on How to Bathe the Cat
This is the simplest and most efficient way to bathe the cat and clean the bathroom
1. Raise both lids of the toilet and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl
2. Pick up cat and soothe him as you carry him to the bathroom
3. In one deft movement, deposit cat in toilet and close the lid (you may need to stand on lid)
4. The cat will self-agitate and make plenty of suds. Disregard the noise. He is just enjoying his bath.
5. Power wash and then rinse him with 3-4 flushes
6. Have someone open the door to the yard and clear the way between the bathroom and the door
7. Stand behind the toilet and raise the lid
8. The cat will rocket from the toilet bowl and streak through the house to the open door. Outside he will dry himself.
9. Both toilet and cat will be sparkling clean
Yours Sincerely
The Dog
http://johndenugent/jdn/2010/04/17/english-humor-how-to-bathe-a-cat.
Yenta remembers her glory days with Hef…
http://blog.beliefnet.com/windowsanddoors/2010/05/jewish-playboy-bunnies.html
😀
By deception:
http://just-another-inside-job.blogspot.com/2008/12/zionist-rulers-of-arabia.html
Do they coverup their crimes (and make war):
http://www.bushstole04.com/911/kagan_911.htm
DUAL ‘LOYALTY’ ISRAELIS ARE ENEMY INFILTRATORS
DUMP ISRAEL!
White Wolf.
It would help explain Wahabism.
Another link to the same info, and more.
http://www.fortunecity.com/boozers/bridge/632/history.html
http://sultan.org/articles/wahabism.html
http://www.indolink.com/displayArticleS.php?id=012704080531
Thanks for the ‘supplemental’ intelligence, Cannibal.
“We must be convinced that someone who has spent the better part of her career as a political adviser, policy advocate and academic rather than as a legal practitioner or a judge can put aside her personal and political beliefs, and impartially apply the law, rather than be a rubber stamp for the Obama or any other administration,” McConnell said.”
LMAO! What a joke!
Are people really still buying this Jew BS?
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100618/ap_on_go_su_co/us_kagan_documents
DUMP ISRAEL!
WHOA!!! I knew she was a Khazar, but I didn’t know she was the daughter of freaking ROBERT KAGAN of PNAC FAME!!! WTF??? :-O
http://www.newamericancentury.org/robertkaganbio.htm
These kike bastards never give up!!! It looks like the time rapidly approaches when they must be forcibly removed from our government. Ticks don’t come off easily do they?
http://www.boomantribune.com/story/2006/5/28/203122/323