Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Turn off Dancing with the Tsars! Let us Terpsicore with the Fox Trotsky!
And NO sacrifices here, except those of a personal nature. As Gong sez, "Diana hunts, but NEVER kills."
It's May folks. The month of permission. The month of possibility. Consider this folks: of all 12 months, only 3 have the cunning linguistic potential to escape their namesakes in English translation. March is a command. A drill. And why not? It used to be the first month of the year. A call to war. Mars, the God of Alpha Males, sweat, steroids and ESPN. Get in line and Carry On! August can be descriptive, but it still can't escape the Augustus Caesar namebrand. Penis Envy with Julius: July. These families. Can't wait to see Tyler Perry's version of Julius Caesar. Well, yes I can. But back to the original TEN months of the year, which the Romans seem to have possibly broken. It's all names and numbers. (How many of your friends are born under the sign of Intercalaris?)
But only May suggests...(hello Maia...rhymes with Gaia. Juno hosts a good party. Janus, a thespian. Well balanced or two-faced?).
Yes, you MAY! There is No You in front and definitely not a Not after. Call me sexist, but I love a Goddess who says YES.
Dig me cats and kittens?
(This program, The Amletariat Hour ["struggling hard to become The Proletariat Hour"] was made possible by a generous Permission Grant from The Bank of Gauche... "Building your Future in an Abstract, Philosophical, even Hypothetical Way.")
Fellow Travellers Insurance. "What Have you Got to Lose? You Don't Own it Anyway."
"Mr. Gorbachev...Tear down Ken Wahl!" (Ronald Reagan's often misquoted criticism of the old CBS program Wiseguy).
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! (famous Distress Sign). Coco Chanel! Coco Chanel! Coco Chanel! (famous Distress Designer).