from AP story in the NYT

"BAGHDAD (AP) -- U.S. and Iraqi forces killed more than 60 insurgent and militia fighters in intense battles over the weekend, with most of the casualties believed to have been al-Qaida fighters, officials said Sunday.

The U.S. Embassy, meanwhile, joined a broad swath of Iraqi politicians -- both Shiite and Sunni -- in criticizing a nonbinding Senate resolution seen here as a recipe for splitting the country along sectarian and ethnic lines.

I understand the "sauce for the goose" argument. On the other hand, though, each new half-assed Congressional resolution, using the "MoveOn" template, will be just another step toward the formal re-creation of the viciously unconstitutional Sedition Laws - both the 1798 and 1918 varieties. (Or are they already somewhere in a corner of the Patriot Act or the Military Commissions Act?) And we know how evenhandedly our new sedition laws will be enforced.

That dammit Mr. O. he got me sad, over ponderous, and reminiscent.

Owen thinks he is 'ole Nat King Gary Owen? He presses his scarred face up against my computer window, and points a M- 16 machine gun. He shoots away some truth.

On this side of the 'gadget' window; a handful of sad memories began percolating up from into the repressed consciousness.

O, down the Ho Chi Minh trail, south of the 17th McNamara Parallel, villages were burnt, bombed, and made ash at that "meat-loaf" mid-line border. I hope a few left to sip wine and nibbling some soft fragrant bed.

I once knew a girl who ran off with a Lawyer. If he was a communist dentist, and someone who have cared and filled the cavity holes for candy-consumers, like holed-up sugarman, YEA!

NO! An American Dream, non-fulfilled, dammit! O, a law-pro @ Dammit, the www.Salon....How now-moo-cow. dazzling. I like the Ladies._

In high school I was Typical. O, a Draft. Conscription. Immediately, something drew me toward Love. I wasn't puny. I swam, played Pony League baseball, and can boast I smacked more balls over the home-run-fence than any other Right-Wing, or South Paw, pitcher's batter.

I could swim a butterfly, a back stoke, and do a crawl across the pool bottom for pennies. A croupy-cough, or a communicable disease, or stricken with a bedridden fever, never. Never loose.

I can even remember standing stark naked in front of a mirror. A funny Nature must sure have a bad/good sense of humor. A crook or cranny, and look at a cute fanny, ya's got to agree?

I'd invite a transformation within me. I read when I ate. My time could be holed-up on a weekend, Listening to the Blues. Saturn above, visited in harsh cold winters. If a remembrance of Spring gardens could not enter my memory, I'd despair.

Life toughen Ya's. Formal School itself, I hated. I loved some of those acne-scarred faces. I wasn't picky. If a lovely inside-Spirit shown in a rare-Manifestation of Beauty- I was sold and convinced- Beauty!

The first time I met beauty, it was a good time spending time on the beach, pre-war. In fact, ya's ought to not pass a chance to make love with scratchy sand all over the skin, if the opportunity is ever afforded you.

I'm talking about a person who wasn't what your mom or peers would say, "WOW-wee"! I always felt comfortable, and I realized, I loved her.

The expression on her face: Calm.

I'd blabber away, but she did too, and we both Listened! In wartime, I'd wonder, "How was your day? What did you eat for dinner?" When in her presence, I remembered, if asking anything, ya's thought ya's was asking a magnificent question. She was so engrossing.

Everyone is her/him too. I'd walk and show her the Mountain Spring, and her face was seen by me, as if you'd shown her a innocent axe, that could uncork, and out pop, a Magic Fairy.

This dysfunctional Ill-malformed family of neocons infiltrated and stopped forward-progressive-growth, all the Universe has stopped? What has Congress done?

Zilch!

a susan sunflower always reminds me of a post India Earthquake death-burial gig.

I see marigolds, twin-goats, and fields of small mustard seed, blooming, again. I was enthralled by the Beauty of acres of sunflowers, post, so-much, pain.

I visited my friend. She probably was on a "lonely" walk along the C&O canal. A live deer crossed my path. I remember that once I was so flabbergasted after a girl kissed me, for weeks, before war, when innocent, I no could sleep, and I no buy those yucky rubber condoms. Gads.

I'd never waltz today into a drug store anyway to ask, "Got rubbers?" Why did a nature's force give people fingers for? Boys are slow like snails, and be so-Slow, but we can count to 21!

That's counting finger/toes and the hooded purple penis of 'ole time yesterday's-year.

Drug stores have crates of Trojan condoms. No sweat, the neocons are bad news and damned deadpanned neocon main man's. Why they hurt so many people? If I look down at neocons penny-loafing shined shoes: It may or may not tell me all I need to know. Go!

Compared to my scruffy boots, and knowing mine won't hurt- I say, "Neocons are still playing with militancy's rubber toys."

Does anyone else feel sad about their pathetic public appearances, lately? I've felt like a frog with no-webbed feet. But that was 35 years ago--- but the neocon's look scared. I'm wordless. I remember a seersucker dress (damn G.O.) and untying it, awkwardly. The beautiful breast can fit perfectly to fit, comfortably, within a small hand. Was a palm designed solely for the purpose of that, a hand holding something soft?

I've felt the human heart beat too. A pulse against my heart. Why would a person want to not love Everybody? How can a human desire to hurt another human? I an confused over that. Why would a person kill, or want to speak in a put-down manner that May damage another human beyond repair? This is too long.