WELL . . .

Fig 1. He Was Ahead Of His Time (image courtesy of The Stranger - Seattle's Only Newspaper™)

My favorite Reagan anecdote:

RR happened to be on the Royal Yacht and he was being served coffee by members of HM The Queen's staff. Presented with steaming java served in a tankard that Henry VIII had quaffed out of and spit up in, the Gypper asked QE2, 'Is that decaf?'


Well . . . (as RR himself was wont to say!) I guess that after Tom Gjelten definitively proclaimed Ronald Reagan to be a genius (present tense, now and forever), all I need add is the following link to cap things off:

GENIUS - SHEER GENIUS

Also:

Thought I'd make a couple contributions to the Reagan Legend:

I heard a rumor that there's a team of 'experts' currently embalming the Gypper for installation in a mausoleum to be built in the Mall that'll make the US capitol look like a gopher hole. Eat yer hearts out, Comrades Lenin & Ho & Kim Il Sung, and Chairman Mao, too!

After Warner Bros. dumped his contract, RR amazingly succeeded in getting selected for the US presidency thing. To show Hollywood a thing or two, he also succeeded in getting an allowance for a Cult of Personality to be authorized by the US Gub'munt on the occasion of his 100th birthday, and to celebrate 30 years in the Oval Office.

Happy First Century to Our Permanent Leader And Teacher!

And finally, for your LOL pleasure, one of the most famous secrets in the Reagan Legend:



Fig. 2. I always bust a gut with this one! NOTE: This sequence was filmed before they knew how to properly synchronize sound and pictures; 'The Jazz Singer' had just been released, and the Vitaphone hadn't been perfected yet; your patience is appreciated

BONUS: A Few Non-Reagan Cult of Personality Notes, Comin' At Ya!

Yup, and on 'All Thinktanks Considered', Blob Siegel seemed far more interested in 'considering' euphemisms for excrement than anything else today. Very telling.

He was at his double-dipping, unsavory best, posing as the bemused professorial type, daintily curlicu-ing his icky curiosity around his guest's (scholarly?) book on euphemisms, poking about in a sticky box of dainty words with naughty meanings, as if he were salivating over second hand lingerie or something.

Of course, wasn't it all very amusing and droll, and all that rot. Another fine NPR smugfest, with the host as the winner in every respect.

Oh, and he prefaced this encounter by giving us an almost Simonized sermonette about how he learned that the term 'retarded' really wasn't very acceptable, (apparently that process took many years!) despite poring over his dad's books that gave proper definitions for 'moron' and other feeble-minded conditions.

I tell ya, it's getting harder and harder to lampoon NPR, mainly because they're doing most of the lampoonable work themselves. I long ago overcame the Blobert Siegel Projectile Vomiting Reflex, but I imagine I'm in constant danger of it returning full force. All this is is BAD BROACASTING, BAD BROACASTING, BAD BROACASTING.

Oh, and Missy M'lissa Blockhead was especially squirty-cute today. She got positively juicy and squishy with all her scrumptious inflections and nuances, and yes, it's enough to make you puke stomach lining chunks.

I know, it's because everybody's 'fed up' (a la Hosni) of yucky old Egypt, with all their screaming Muzlumanians, bitching, bitching, bitching, spitting on stability and expecting big gub'munt to bail their sorry asses out. And everybody’s always YELLING, just like all those other Islamidextrous places – you know? They’re always yelling and pushing and busting up stuff. Because I heard it all on NPR!

I mean, don't they know they've got a perfectly Reaganesque leader to take care of them?

NPR sets an example to live by. All we need do is listen and obey.

AND

At Dina's Temple of Doom, the buzz is that when you get down to it, Al Qaeda's an EGYPTIAN thingie, and that, hint-hint, if we dump Mubarak, they'll BE BACK. Uh, no mention of Saudi Arabia at all. A Gjeltenian conclusion if there ever was one.

But we all know that NPR-niks don't wanna hear about gravitas shit. Their bubbly comfort zone will forever be populated by Gyppers with sunny personalities, strong Pharaohs, dysfunctional hosts 'n guests, and cheerily peppered with fun euphemisms, word & soundbyte porno, and Barbie fantasies.