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A feature (not a bug) of our deportation system
Some people apparently think that the US government has an obligation to keep these people alive while it detains them.
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Poem of the day
Encore un livre
by Jules Laforgue (1860-1887)
Encore un livre; ô nostalgies
Loin de ces très goujates gens,
Loin des saluts et des argents,
Loin de nos phraséologies!
Encore un de mes pierrots mort;
Mort d’un chronique orphelinisme;
C’était un cœur plein de dandysme
Lunaire, en un drôle de corps.
Les dieux s’en vont; plus que des hures;
Ah! ça devient tous les jours pis;
J’ai fait mon temps, je déguerpis
Vers l’Inclusive Sinécure!
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Dog-bites-man non-news; he cheats at everything
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The value of “victory” keeps going down while the price keeps going up
According to the WSJ: “For weeks, President Trump had been laying the groundwork to declare victory in the Iran war should Tehran fully reopen the Strait of Hormuz, even floating the idea privately to senior aides that he’s willing to walk away without a nuclear deal, U.S. officials said.
“But that scaled-back objective became more difficult when Iran insisted Saturday on its highest price yet for permitting the free flow of traffic in the waterway, seeking billions of dollars in U.S. payments, the removal of American troops from the region and an end of the U.S. naval blockade, among other things.
“This rapid chain of events suggests Trump’s options for walking away from the conflict have again narrowed.”
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Be afraid, be very afraid
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“Trust is earned in droplets, but it’s lost in buckets.”
According to the NYT, local police have learned the lessons taught by the fact that videos are likely to emerge from any shooting but DHS still doesn’t get it.
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Game of the week
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Grim conditions are a feature, not a bug
They encourage immigrants to waive their legal rights and agree to “self-deport.” They also warm the empty space in Stephen Miller’s chest where normal human beings have a heart.
Views: 6
Poem of the day
On the Russian Persecution of the Jews
by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909)
O son of man, by lying tongues adored,
By slaughterous hands of slaves with feet red-shod
carnage deep as ever Christian trod
Profaned with prayer and sacrifice abhorred
And incense from the trembling tyrant’s horde,
Brute worshippers or wielders of the rod,
Most murderous even of all that call thee God,
Most treacherous even that ever called thee Lord;
Face loved of little children long ago,
Head hated of the priests and rulers then,
If thou see this, or hear these hounds of thine
Run ravening as the Gadarean swine,
Say, was not this thy Passion, to foreknow
In death’s worst hour the works of Christian men?
Views: 1