My favorite stall
I don’t like where this I.R.S. scandal is going
So I’ve made a concerted attempt to be well-behaved apolitical Facebook user, but… Regarding this whole I.R.S drama, this scandal should not about President Obama. Even if it is found that a liberal-democrat’s executive administration was behind the I.R.S.’ targeting of conservative groups, the real issue is that the I.R.S targeted a group who’s purpose is to roll back budgets and taxes. As we empower a bureau who’s purpose is to enforce tax law, they are naturally going to oppose any organization who aims to eliminate waste in the budget and excess in taxation. This should come as no surprise; an I.R.S. agent who makes a living of enforcing an increasingly complex tax code will be understandably opposed to a tea party organization, which proposes to make that code simpler and thus eliminate the need for his employment. I don’t think anyone at the I.R.S. needed a democratic president to tell them the Tea Party was a threat to their bureaucracy. What this scandal does is prove the very point that the Tea Party has made about taxes and budgets: the current tax laws and enforcement bodies wield far too much power and have come to act as an oppressive segment of the government, and tax reform (cuts) are needed to simplify and eliminate these issues. If the I.R.S. or the Obama administration aimed to marginalize the Tea Party, they may have succeeded only by proving their point and using the bullying tactics described by the tea part and conservatives.
Life is a conspiracy propagated by God and planned by lucifer
The Most Dead Art Form
The most irrelevant, useless, and impotent form of art is most definitely the compact disc review, which will be around as long as music is released in bundles of about 12 songs. It discourages the impressionable, expedites the choices of lazy listener, and is utterly ignored by true artists everywhere.
In honor of this past St. Patrick’s Day, DJ Deep Thought will now smash a guitar
Gorgeous wonder in your body
Glaring back at me in dread
As uncertain as some inkling
Rather bland I sleep instead
Lying brazen by the fire
‘Pon a bed of ceasar’s due
We are Content as hell and silent
Letting humid grow our slough
