Thursday, January 31, 2008

The Towel, Please

I am Kitteh. And I am done.

The juggernaut that is Sunny Lucas is, by definition, unstoppable. To stand in front of Sunny Lucas is to stand side-by-side with animal abusers and callous whores.

No amount of Lording is worth all that.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Spin suh..suh..sycle

Sunny, I've been thinking. Even though your platform is a steaming pile of capitalism and war-mongering, there's at least one thing I think you've got right.

In the middle of your hateful rant against Dear Leader Chavez and the peaceful Muslims, you said something about "alternatives to oil." Yes, my pet, YES!

You can find alternatives to oil, and I can help you. In fact, you can have energy independence if you try hard enough. I'll even help y....OH. MY. GOD.

Don't move. Whatever you do, Sunny, DON'T MOVE.

It's on your tail.

What do you mean 'What?' It's right there on your tail. Energy independence is on your tail.

Whaddaya mean you don't see it? It's right there on your tail.

I can't reach it. Grab it, Sunny.

Yes, that's it. Run for it, Sunny! You can catch it!

With Energy Independence, you'll be a shoo-in for President! Run faster, you've almost got it!

Um...

What's with all the panting, Sunny? You almost had it.

Here, have a sip of this ethanol. That's the boost you need--then you can catch that Energy Independence. Good girl, now go get it!

That's it, faster! Oops...

So you stumbled a little bit. That's OK. Here, have another drink of corn mash er, ethanol. Thatagirl.

Now, fetch that Energy Independence. No, sit up straight. Now fetch!

Sunny, you're never going to reach Energy Independence like this. Stop wobbling!

Aww, Sunny...



Friday, January 25, 2008

Roar.

WTF?? GOT-o-Mighty-Damn!

How friggin' stupid does he think I am? Like I can't bloody well READ?!

I have cast the Carbo upon the internets to wander for a while. You will know him by the stench of urine on his shoes. He is also bleeding a little.

a winga weck a winga weck

Jesse says:
are you still napping? or formulating more wisdoms?
ssshh...kitteh is sleeping, so i can tell you a few things:

kitteh draws power from his enemy, sunny lucas. or more specifically, sunny's campaign site. "the hordes over which kitteh will lord will be sent by sunny herself," says kitteh.

kitteh awoke last night ready for battle with sunny, only to find out that the great bill whittle had read and reacted to kitteh's words. kitteh's response to this revelation was to pass out.

don't get me wrong, bill whittle is kitteh's blood-enemy, what with all bill's pro-american, pro-freedom talk. who gets to lord over free people? nobody, that's who.

it's just that kitteh is awed by the whittle's ability to write. the rachel makes you laugh, but the whittle makes you feel...and think. kitteh respects the ability to make you feel. he wants to make you feel, too. guilty! guilty! guilty! is how he wants you to feel. but this 'thinking' shit--he really hates that.

me? i'm supporting sunny.

he's going to wake up soon, and god knows what he's going to say. his near-whittle experience gave him new and fearsome powers, i fret. eye of the tiger, if you will...

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Sunny Side Up!

This is going to be easier than I thought.

Sunny Lucas has already accepted my premise. All I need do now is demonstrate need, unfairness, good intentions, etc., and she will either move toward my goal, or spin endlessly chasing her own tail. To wit:

THE WAR ON DRUGS
...First, since it’s absurd to put marijuana in the same category as coke, crack, heroin, and whatnot, she would completely legalize marijuana, regulate it, and tax the shit out of it just like we do with cigarettes.
Wonderful news! Sunny thinks the legalization of pot is drrrrrastic! change. She has swallowed hook, line and sinker my premise that we can and should dictate what each of us puts into our bodies. If it's debatable whether meth consumption is permissible, then it's debatable whether drinking orange juice is permissible. The POWER is all that matters—at which end of the field it's exercised is insignificant.

And that line about taxing the shit out of it — Music, sweet music!

THE ECONOMY
...We understand that there will always be people born with disadvantages that aren’t their fault, like a disease or abusive parents. Those people should be helped because it is the right thing to do...and taking care of the elderly, to name a few.
Here again, Sunny has accepted my premise, though she is a long way from where I need her to be. She has all but said that those who can should be compelled to help those who can't, i.e., injustices must be rebalanced. And believe me, there is ALWAYS an injustice, imbalance, unfairness, or dire need, real or perceived — makes no difference (some people, out there in our nation, don't have maps).

The rest of Sunny's pile of poop, er, platform, I will reckon with tomorrow.

Now, I reckon I'll take a nap...

The Trouble With Rupert

In order to vanquish my enemy, I must examine her campaign team and plot its destruction.

The candidate herself, Sunny Lucas, by herself, is hardly worth mentioning. She is obese, lazy, and easily distracted by culinary porcine delights. Puh-leeze. If you're going with a Manchurian Candidate, why put up a blubberbutt who's subject to anxiety attacks? Whatever.

Which brings us to the mastermind of Sunny--Rachel Lucas. Writes the subversive and reclusive Bill Whittle:

Smart, funny, fearless, cute and the inventor of the! slam! critique! format! The nicest person I have never met.
Yeah, she's all that and a pleaser of crowds, to boot. But she has a weakness: self-doubt. For all her popularity and charm and incisive sassy humor, she could not even decide on a presidential candidate (before nominating her pitiable dog.)

As We Who Lord well know, self-doubt can be converted to fear, fear into guilt, and guilt into outright supplication to our "vision."

Rachel Lucas will take years, maybe decades to bring to compliance, but she is malleable.

Not so The Rupert.

Confronted with obvious truths such as "The World is Gray," The Rupert blusters "Bullshit! The world is fantastically complicated, but it is knowable. If all you see is gray, you're not looking closely enough to see all the little black and white pixels."

Dealing with The Rupert will require a different strategy. He is to be lured toward the Isle of Capitalism, where he can indulge his achievements while not noticing the rising tide around him. By the time the Socialist Hordes are up to his neck, it will be too late.

Unless...

Could Rupert be just an illusion? A dagger of the mind? A false creation?

Has Rachel Lucas literarily created him after watching James Bond and reading Ayn Rand novels?

"Galt. Rupert Galt."

If so, The Rachel is the one to fear. Such dangerous genius needs further examination. Right after my nap...

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Yeah. It's ON.

The Sunny Lucas campaign wasted no time spewing vile insults at He Who Lords:

The Sunny Lucas campaign’s response is that Kitteh is clearly a bleeding heart racist/species-ist and the...
Yawn yawn smack smack yawn.

Before we can even begin to examine Sunny Lucas' preposterous political pontifications, we must answer this spurious charge of 'species-ism'.

  • Is it numerist to acknowledge that one billion is greater than, say, 42?
  • Is it fashionist to assert that silk is superior to polyester? Or maybe textilist?
  • Is it pompositist to claim Monet trumps dogs-playing-poker?
To call a feline 'species-ist' is to call the Sun 'helio-centric.' Simple observation yields the obvious conclusion that felines are rightly dominant, followed by humans, and then by also-ran creatures, including canines.

But perhaps your eyes do not see. Perhaps you need a detailed explanation, as does the dim-witted fellow who doesn't get the joke until later.

First, consider direct combat. Has Sunny ever actually tasted cat? (Other than her repulsive ravenous attack on a mere baby?) No, she has not. We have superior vertical agility, cunning and the capacity to become a spaz-ball with the claws on the outside. You just think you want to fuck with us. You're wrong.

Next, consider how felines and canines interact with the opposably-thumbed ones. Much has been made of the low-brow observation that canines have advanced to the point that humans now pick up their excrement. Big deal. Cats have had their crap cleaned up by humans for 3,000 years, beginning in Alexandria. And before that we had the decorum to actually cover our leavings, rather than just make a few scratches while we bark at skateboarders and make fan-shaped... Why do I stoop to this discussion? Where was I?

The bottom line is, cats have dominated humans longer and more thoroughly than canines could ever hope to. With just a bit of finicism over my dinner options, I could have emulsified Ridgeback, lightly seasoned and canned for enjoyment at my leisure.

Naptime...