Donald Trump and Gwyneth Paltrow fighting over who gets to be the main character on law twitter pic.twitter.com/5QQrx6oMJx
— Alex Su (@heyitsalexsu) March 30, 2023
Donald Trump and Gwyneth Paltrow fighting over who gets to be the main character on law twitter pic.twitter.com/5QQrx6oMJx
— Alex Su (@heyitsalexsu) March 30, 2023
Let’s Hang on to Farkhad’s Yacht
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There ain’t no good in our untyin’
The super sloop we made ours and my-en
But he’s cryin’…
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Let’s hang on to Farkhad’s yacht!
Don’t let go now, we’ve got a lot
Got a lot of yacht between us
Hang on, hang on, hang on, to Farkhad’s yacht
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He says that he and Vlad are gonna have a sit
Gonna end Ukraine and make the Russians quit
Make it up (Yes Putin really said it!)
Make it up (He says we won’t regret it!)
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That little slip of army in Ukraine –
You give your personal word it won’t be back again
But you know it’s hard to believe
But you know we think you might deceive
Farkhad don’t you know
We don’t want the yacht to go
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Let’s hang on to Farkhad’s yacht
Don’t let go now we’ve got a lot
Got a lot of yacht between us
Hang on hang on hang on to Farkhad’s yacht…
A [divorced] teenage mother from Overbrook, Kan., Ms. Fluke-Ekren slowly embraced the Islamic State’s ideology...
[Her first ISIS husband] was killed in an airstrike as he was conducting reconnaissance for a terrorist attack …
… Ms. Fluke-Ekren married another Islamic State terrorist, a Bangladeshi man who specialized in drones and worked on a plan to drop chemical bombs using them. After the man, Wamiq al-Bengali, died, Ms. Fluke-Ekren married another Bangladeshi man, an Islamic State military leader who was responsible for defending Raqqa, Syria. He died while fighting for ISIS in 2018…
She was smuggled out of Syria in about May 2019 and married a fifth time, according to the statement of facts. But the couple separated…
My jet tried to make aliyah
It’s always loved Israel, da da
We approached Tel Aviv
But they forced us to leave
So now we fly on to Fatah
No – at Penn State, we’re more about raping kids in showers than shooting guns into condos.
… UD shared a Guinness with Mr UD at the dinner table (pad thai with shrimp from Noodles and Co., since you ask). Holding her little glass aloft, she said A toast to the greatest English-language writer the modern world has ever seen. James Augustine Aloysius Joyce, I love you, and I will never stop reading you.
Mr UD went on a bit, during the meal (pad thai without the shrimp), about Habermas, and the rather different form of communication about which he’s obsessed. Joycean internal monologues are all well and good; the stories we endlessly tell ourselves about ourselves as we walk around all day are all well and good; but the understanding of rationality to include communicative rationality, and, on that foundation, the elaboration of a discourse ethics, is just as crucial…
All day, UD‘s been playing and singing songs that appear in Joyce’s work (she just performed Sweet Rosie O’Grady).
UD has read from Joyce at the Irish Embassy, at the Cosmos Club, and at lots of other venues around DC. But some years seem to call for something more quiet. One year she took two of her GW students to an Irish bar. Sipping Guinness, we took turns reading favorite passages from Ulysses.
James Joyce is Mr UD‘s ninth cousin, twice removed.
Well, it’s actually a county lockup, but UD finds the tongue-twister irresistible.
Yes, the dusty Sandusky story needs to be dusted off for a moment while we note the failure of Graham Spanier’s endless efforts to avoid incarceration for his role in the child abuse scandal at his university, where coaches buggering little boys in the locker rooms was all in a day’s work.
The whole sordid tale, you recall (it’s okay if you don’t have the stomach to recall) was a testimony to the institution-enhancing greatness of big-time university football.
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Georgia, Georgia, the whole night through
Just an old sweet hope kept Georgia on my mind
Georgia, Georgia, love you so
We’re movin’ up to 2-7-0
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Certain voters frighten me
Certain eyes look violently
And in dreadful dreams I see
The road lead back to Trump
Georgia, Georgia, some peace I find
Just a late-night count keeps Georgia on my mind