Bhutto, a Little Dose of Reality:

A Dose Not Seen Since WWII

I could write a book about this, but why? Too few could see the irony. Too many have no idea how nuanced this thing is, too funny. Still, I will play out a few of my thoughts. Debate though? Proof? No, like modern science, often by the time something has been proven, it has been simplified beyond the point of functional reality and outside of true reason. So, I will not bother with such things.

Bhutto, a woman politician from a troubled nation. A politician who had been exiled because of her corruption, among other things. A politician, who to my understanding, was a socialist, perhaps communist, probably more dependent upon who she could talk into supporting her corruption. A woman, who at our suggestion yet without any support, returned home (sounds almost like we had her arm bent clean up to the breaking point to get her there). Not only that, I would guess we influenced her nation's supreme court in order for her return to even be allowed, seemingly over the objections of the nations president.

Now, this corrupt socialist politician is dead. She claims her killer, or one of them, or the leader of the killers, is the son of The Terrorist mastermind. The difference between them is that one of them officially supports presents offers a religious governance, the other, a religion free governance. Their methods of governance are so similar that Hitler, Stalin, Hussein, Bhutto, and Bin Laden (the elder, and thus junior) could probably not be differentiated as governors and governments once language and social meanings were controlled for, and actions and limits from and through the varied governments were examined.

Let me put this simply and again. We sent a socialist/communist corrupt politician back to her country, without providing security, technically to engender democracy. She ends up, according to her beliefs, being killed by the son of an equally if seemingly opposite bad guy’s son. I really enjoy the thing. Oh, about the title. As World War II was coming to an end, much of the French and Italian resistance, or the parts of those we (the Allies) considered socialist or communist, was ratted to the German, Italian, or French Axis. It was as beautiful, enjoyable, pleasant to me as the best sex, successful combat (think Flawlessss Victoryyyy, from Mortal Kombat), or my outrageous natural highs, and, fitting, then as now.

Is anyone else on this, or am I all alone? I do not care what you say, I tawt I taw a putty tat. And, as usual, the puss is going down. Well, this one already HAS gone down. Bye bye putty tat. I hope she is enjoying what goes for tea, where she is, with Arafat.

Th... th... that’s all folkths!