Not to worry though. I'm sitting here in the trenches with my thesaurus and my Webster's Expanded in my lap, copies of "The Gilded Age" and "It Can't Happen Here" by my side for inspiration, already dreaming up semi-libelous synonyms and revving up the metaphor factory for wartime capacity. Yes, should Joe Miller somehow bluff his way past justice and all that's right in the world, I stand ready.
If Joe Miller prevails, we on the Left will have one more enemy to fight. But in this case I'm claiming first dibs. As long as his name is on the marquee I want Joe Miller as my personal whipping-boy, my very own spiritual scratching post, my psychic punching bag. As they might say up there in the frozen north when prey is in the sights... "Hey boys, hold up! That critter's mine!"
Anybody know where I can get a helicopter, cheap?
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