Mike Price: It’s like when Ella sings. Sang. When she wanted it to, her last note faded into itself, and then there was sweet silence wrapped into its own perfect moment.
Mike Price: Everybody seems to have a theory about the “real” reason for Keith Olbermann’s sudden departure from MSNBC. Mine, not that anybody asked, is that it had something to do with his insistence upon reading James Thurber to us every Friday at the close of his show.
Mike Price: Because of the unlimited money that poured into devious ads and outright lies that strangled the truth prior to the 2010 elections, millions of Americans got blind-sided, but not blinded.
Mike Price: Dear President Obama, I want justice. I want you to serve not our enemies, but those of us with tears of joy over your inauguration.
Mike Price: Anyhoo, it’s my adoring employees. They’re the ones chanting, “HAIL RUPERT,” all the time whenever I’m around
Mike Price: Given Rupert Murdoch’s widely known insatiable hunger for power, reading another story about his carefully constructed Politician Enslavement Program probably won’t shock you out of your ‘jammies.
Mike Price: The upside of having emphysema is that, between gasps, one tends to recall and savor more sharply the rilly, rilly, realest earthly joys of life…
Mike Price: Now, Murdoch claims to be an American. Clearly, he thinks so little of Australia that he’s willing to dilute his citizenship to your great country.
Mike Price: Rubes, suckers, marks, johns, and other clubbies apparently think that tossing bottles around is the same as good bartending. Wrong. People who need juggling with their alcohol should do their drinking at the circus.
Mike Price: Okay, not hate. But we surely feel sorry for sheep-like tea party puppets destroying our country for no other reason than they’re too mentally lazy to think for themselves.
Mike Price: I’m an old guy with a bad leg, a mine-shattered spine, and a damn hose in my nose. I have no choice. The case of emphysema I won for smoking several million cigarettes has moved into its final stage. All life may be terminal, but emphysema writes its own last act.
Michaelangelo Price: And what about O’Reilly’s “alone time” fantasy, fake writer Ann Coulter? Can you imagine her piggish self-interest in social climbing the dregs of Long Island society has anything at all to do with genuine patriotism?
Mike Price: Like I said, dark and stormy with thunder pounding out a maniacal back-beat under the fierce snap-crackling of lightning that slammed against the Truckee River like a homicidal laser beam stabbing through dead-weight Indian-summer air, so screw you, Mrs. Randall, English Composition 101, who said run-on sentences don’t work.