War Is Over ...

Today is Monday, 31 December 2007.



My niece, aged 37, gave me, aged 55, for the holiday, a bumpersticker: "Never Thought I'd Miss Nixon".

Amen.

And the people suffering under the military dictatorship in Burma, who we'll let stand in for all the similar: wonder why the Bush-Cheney Junta ain't hot for regime change there?

Can [of what] U say "Oyul"?

My final words for the B-C Junta: Overthrow and imprison.

Thanks to each and every one of you out there in Radio Land ... oh, Blog Land, who've read and sometimes writ back to this column.



The other day, someone asked me what my favorite Christmas movie was, and I said, Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. Fortunately, the questioner was a relative, and paid no attention to my reply.



And an imaginary trailer for the flick:



And the genius Bartok:



And:



And here is my Manhattan, acid and rancid, not mine really but Jack Kerouacs, but he and i sat on the same west side of manhattan piers, drank some beers, looked out over that long sad horizon where the land flowed out so infinitely seeming to the west, and that green light glowed at the end of the dock GREEN! Go! Go! that Beatnick GO! that Gatsby Beatnick GO!