I was just over at someones blog (she can take credit if she wants) who linked this PETAphile article with no questions asked. Because, naturally, the only people who intentionally distort facts are evil, meanspirited Conservatives (especilally Rethuglicans) who are out to force compliance with the dictates of the Bush-Rove-Halliburton machine.
So I searched for "gay sheep experiment" and decided on this link because most of them pretty much were the same.
Basically, what the researchers are doing is trying to determin if homosexuality is socially determined or if it's a physical thang. In order to stydy the structure of the brain, it needs to be physically examined.
BAD according to PETA, worse according to Liberals and gay advocats is the fact that somehow there may be a way to change sexual orientation in the future.
BUT, on the other hand, using aborted fetuses is ok for stem cell research- even though (in spite of the fact) that adult stem cells work as well in the vast majority of cases.
Lets review.
BAD- kiling sheep for research.
GOOD- using aborted babies for research.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Friday, September 08, 2006
Lets hear it for the geeks
At least they know how to clean the filth out of their computer while checking out the likes of Koz, MyDD and the DU.
SondraK's a sexy geek and she found this post about the 9-11 mini-series.
Basically it's telling their minions to do a "Googo-launch" after the movie airs, so that anyone dearching will hit one of their blogs to further re-enforce thelies revisionest history Newer and Better than ever portrayal of the ABC experiment in capitulation.
Ok, I'll go with it....... The path to 9-11
9-11 on ABC
The path to 9-11 , rewritten and approved by the Clinton machine
ABC mini-series "the path to 9-11" with credits to the historically challenged Madeline Albright and Sandy Berger.
SondraK's a sexy geek and she found this post about the 9-11 mini-series.
Basically it's telling their minions to do a "Googo-launch" after the movie airs, so that anyone dearching will hit one of their blogs to further re-enforce the
Ok, I'll go with it....... The path to 9-11
9-11 on ABC
The path to 9-11 , rewritten and approved by the Clinton machine
ABC mini-series "the path to 9-11" with credits to the historically challenged Madeline Albright and Sandy Berger.
I want everyone to concentrate real hard
Think back about ten years to the Clinton machine. Ok? Are we focused now?
Let me put what I'm going to ask into some perspective.
All day long I've been hearing about some mini-series on tv station who's been loosing viewers at a steady rate. It's supposedly about 9-11 and the events leading up to it.
Somehow it got leaked that Madeline Albright (who didn't have a clue that she had Jewish blood-untill herFBI background check told her) and Sandy Berger (I didn't know who the Samuel Berger CNN was talking about untill they mentioned document stuffing) wrote a letter to the bigwigs at ABC demanding changes in the movie.
I guess they didn't like being portrayed as inept political hacks- or something.
Anyway the thing got leaked and is all over the airwaves, and probably everywhere there is type, too.
What I want you to think about is this:
The Clinton machine KNOWS how to get alot of milage out of a leak.
They have lots of friends at ABC.
The Clinton White House never struck me as having a whole lot of "Gravitas".
The Clinton machine needs to re-write history.
What are the odds that this whole thing is a big PR blow-out to get people to watch a half-@ssed network, so they can get their ratings back up?
Let me put what I'm going to ask into some perspective.
All day long I've been hearing about some mini-series on tv station who's been loosing viewers at a steady rate. It's supposedly about 9-11 and the events leading up to it.
Somehow it got leaked that Madeline Albright (who didn't have a clue that she had Jewish blood-untill herFBI background check told her) and Sandy Berger (I didn't know who the Samuel Berger CNN was talking about untill they mentioned document stuffing) wrote a letter to the bigwigs at ABC demanding changes in the movie.
I guess they didn't like being portrayed as inept political hacks- or something.
Anyway the thing got leaked and is all over the airwaves, and probably everywhere there is type, too.
What I want you to think about is this:
The Clinton machine KNOWS how to get alot of milage out of a leak.
They have lots of friends at ABC.
The Clinton White House never struck me as having a whole lot of "Gravitas".
The Clinton machine needs to re-write history.
What are the odds that this whole thing is a big PR blow-out to get people to watch a half-@ssed network, so they can get their ratings back up?
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Now for something a little lighter
Lets listen to Felix da housecat singing "Rocket ride"
Careful, you might learn to tell the difference between a missile hit and a not-a-missile-hit.
Careful, you might learn to tell the difference between a missile hit and a not-a-missile-hit.
Lookslike this week's going to suck
What's left of it ,anyway.
I only had 2 loads last night, but got home late because they weren't using that much sugar- it was hardly worth my time and gas to drive into San Antonio to deliver it. I got to bed about 2:30AM and someone called at7 this morn- I couldn't get back to sleep so I started reading mail. I found a Visa bill for last month (I pay online-but forgot untill after the deadline) they jacked my APR to 18.25%!!! My Discover card is 12.8%.
I had problems with them in the past, and was expecting it again. So we'll put all our available money into paying it off so we can drop it---again, and never use them again. Next time we won't get suckered by their 0% come-on.
I didn't get to got shooting- went to Hondo to get my Dodge's inspection sticker a day late because of the rain, BUt I got a extra month next year because I was late. I went to Wally-World to finish the grorcery shopping. They've been open about two weeks, and EVERY time I've been in there I've had to wait on something f'in up. This time I went to the self check-out line. Wouldn't ya know it- the bagging scale was off, so the overseer had to keep putting her code in to tell it I WAS ptting the cr@p ino the bags. I was walking out when the alarm went off for the printer cartridge I had to buy because the 15-yr-old decided to print about 20 pages of black bacground cartoons last nite. So I had to wait for security to come de-energize the tag---because the selfcheck-out did't work.
The only good thing today was that I think I got the A/C drain on the Dodge unclogged. I noticed the passenger floor was wet about two months after I had to have aparts changer mechanic replace my heater core. When he jammed the tube through the firewall he blocked the tube with the insulation he tore.
Gawd, I'm pissed at VISA.
I only had 2 loads last night, but got home late because they weren't using that much sugar- it was hardly worth my time and gas to drive into San Antonio to deliver it. I got to bed about 2:30AM and someone called at7 this morn- I couldn't get back to sleep so I started reading mail. I found a Visa bill for last month (I pay online-but forgot untill after the deadline) they jacked my APR to 18.25%!!! My Discover card is 12.8%.
I had problems with them in the past, and was expecting it again. So we'll put all our available money into paying it off so we can drop it---again, and never use them again. Next time we won't get suckered by their 0% come-on.
I didn't get to got shooting- went to Hondo to get my Dodge's inspection sticker a day late because of the rain, BUt I got a extra month next year because I was late. I went to Wally-World to finish the grorcery shopping. They've been open about two weeks, and EVERY time I've been in there I've had to wait on something f'in up. This time I went to the self check-out line. Wouldn't ya know it- the bagging scale was off, so the overseer had to keep putting her code in to tell it I WAS ptting the cr@p ino the bags. I was walking out when the alarm went off for the printer cartridge I had to buy because the 15-yr-old decided to print about 20 pages of black bacground cartoons last nite. So I had to wait for security to come de-energize the tag---because the selfcheck-out did't work.
The only good thing today was that I think I got the A/C drain on the Dodge unclogged. I noticed the passenger floor was wet about two months after I had to have a
Gawd, I'm pissed at VISA.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Not much today
I did the MRI thing this morning.
They wanted to check my neck- to make sure everythig was ok there.
Then the went to do the shoulder, the reason I was there. Iwas off for four days, so it got a chance to ,,,,, unswell and relax- I was hearing pops and snaps all weekend.
They REALLY need to make those holes bigger. It was OK when they did the neck thing, I was centred. When they put the shoulder-holder attatchment in, I almost would't fit becaue the moved my shoulders to the left too far.
-Anyhting to the Left is too far, but that's another post.
I had to twist and shrug my shoulder to get it through the opening.
My left arm started going numb about halfway through, and although I usualy have no problem, I was sarting to get a little anxious.
They said they got good images and we'll see what it looks like Thurs afternoon at the Drs office.
It started raining while I was leaving.It's been at least2 months since anykind of moisture has come from th sky. It was scary driving on the city streets of San ANtonio-knowing that these morons have NO clue about driving when wet.
Especially when it just started raining after eight weeksof oil and grease build-up on the roads. I kept expcting someone to slide (all the way) through a stop sign, or into my rear end.
I finally made it to the Sportsmans Warehouse, where I got a couple pounds of lead balls for the CUG shoot. Too bad it was raining and the ink would have run all over, I probably could have doon well with the Trapper.
HEY, did ya see that they found more oil in the Gulf? Kewl. Too bad that when they finally get to start pumping it'll get shut down every time a hurrican gets into the gulf, and we'll be in the same boat we were last year.
They wanted to check my neck- to make sure everythig was ok there.
Then the went to do the shoulder, the reason I was there. Iwas off for four days, so it got a chance to ,,,,, unswell and relax- I was hearing pops and snaps all weekend.
They REALLY need to make those holes bigger. It was OK when they did the neck thing, I was centred. When they put the shoulder-holder attatchment in, I almost would't fit becaue the moved my shoulders to the left too far.
-Anyhting to the Left is too far, but that's another post.
I had to twist and shrug my shoulder to get it through the opening.
My left arm started going numb about halfway through, and although I usualy have no problem, I was sarting to get a little anxious.
They said they got good images and we'll see what it looks like Thurs afternoon at the Drs office.
It started raining while I was leaving.It's been at least2 months since anykind of moisture has come from th sky. It was scary driving on the city streets of San ANtonio-knowing that these morons have NO clue about driving when wet.
Especially when it just started raining after eight weeksof oil and grease build-up on the roads. I kept expcting someone to slide (all the way) through a stop sign, or into my rear end.
I finally made it to the Sportsmans Warehouse, where I got a couple pounds of lead balls for the CUG shoot. Too bad it was raining and the ink would have run all over, I probably could have doon well with the Trapper.
HEY, did ya see that they found more oil in the Gulf? Kewl. Too bad that when they finally get to start pumping it'll get shut down every time a hurrican gets into the gulf, and we'll be in the same boat we were last year.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Labor Day
The end of summer vacation.
The cook-outs.
The abundance of Infidel juice.
Baseball games.
and not to be forgotten--- endless repeats of "The Closer". All day long. All southern accent. All bright red lipstick everytime I look at the TV.
The cook-outs.
The abundance of Infidel juice.
Baseball games.
and not to be forgotten--- endless repeats of "The Closer". All day long. All southern accent. All bright red lipstick everytime I look at the TV.
More European Anti-semitsm on display
Yoni the Blogger reports that quite a few Euopean counties are denying landing/refuling rights to IDF planes carrying their equipment.
That means when they're comming from American bases, they can't bring in a full load of defensive arms, since they have to carry that much more fuel.
Which means that the next time they are attacked and need to defend themselves, they'll have less to do it with. The list of these countries is a who's-who of NATO members- the ones that should understand the war on terrorism, not cowtowing to their violent sepratist immigrants.
Also, in a one-way pogrom, the EU is preparing charges against members of the IDF for war crimes against moslem terrorists. There is a huge blank page in the ledger reguarding human rights violations by Hizb'Allah, Hammas, and the rest.
That means when they're comming from American bases, they can't bring in a full load of defensive arms, since they have to carry that much more fuel.
Which means that the next time they are attacked and need to defend themselves, they'll have less to do it with. The list of these countries is a who's-who of NATO members- the ones that should understand the war on terrorism, not cowtowing to their violent sepratist immigrants.
Also, in a one-way pogrom, the EU is preparing charges against members of the IDF for war crimes against moslem terrorists. There is a huge blank page in the ledger reguarding human rights violations by Hizb'Allah, Hammas, and the rest.
"Crikey!"
Looks like Steve Irwin has gone to the big crock farm in the sky.
Bye Steve, you were entertaining at first.
Bye Steve, you were entertaining at first.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
If you have a You-Tube account
You may want to click on the "inappropriate" button for this video of the twin towers set to "Americas funniest home videos". I also rated it with one star.
I know you Libs will call it "censorship", but no- I think it should be age segregated. Not open for all the Anti-American drive-bys to giggle and drool over.
Via JB
I know you Libs will call it "censorship", but no- I think it should be age segregated. Not open for all the Anti-American drive-bys to giggle and drool over.
Via JB
Saturday, September 02, 2006
SEXaaaayyyy
Just what you want to think about when sending your daughter to college.
3:02 minutes of drunk chick.
You'd certainly hope so, wouldn't you?
I was over at Incindiary Gannies just now reading her views on "Intelligent design", and the Pope's inclination to embrace that idea.
She has alot more experience than I do (and probably goes to church more, too), but we pretty much have the same views on the bible and Creationism/Evolution.
I see Genesis (not the band) as a simplification of the "Big Bang", and everything that follows to be some form of evolution. Of course God made allowances for evolution, he didn't want to be micro-managing the earth forever- that's why he gave us the business plan to use as we see fit.
She has alot more experience than I do (and probably goes to church more, too), but we pretty much have the same views on the bible and Creationism/Evolution.
I see Genesis (not the band) as a simplification of the "Big Bang", and everything that follows to be some form of evolution. Of course God made allowances for evolution, he didn't want to be micro-managing the earth forever- that's why he gave us the business plan to use as we see fit.
Friday, September 01, 2006
I'm bored
I'm looking at Craigslist.
I'm wondering WHY anyone would ad a lift kit to a pick-up and expect someone to pay more than the truck is worth, because you decided to completly f*ck up the suspension and steering alignment?
Why would I pay good money for someone I don't know(and probably has no clue) to go in and start messing with something as essential as the steering geometry, and all the other inter-related parts that keep it moving.
And expect it not to pack-up in the middle lane of Loop 410 in rush hour?
I'm wondering WHY anyone would ad a lift kit to a pick-up and expect someone to pay more than the truck is worth, because you decided to completly f*ck up the suspension and steering alignment?
Why would I pay good money for someone I don't know(and probably has no clue) to go in and start messing with something as essential as the steering geometry, and all the other inter-related parts that keep it moving.
And expect it not to pack-up in the middle lane of Loop 410 in rush hour?
Which army do I belong in?
 | You scored as British and the Commonwealth. Your army is the British and the Commonwealth (Canada, ANZAC, India). You want to serve under good generals and use good equipment in defense of the western form of life.
In which World War 2 army you should have fought? created with QuizFarm.com |
Because I prefer accuracy instead of a hail of hot steel, I bacame a Tommy.
I guess thats another reason to NOT drink Miller beer
They're sponsoring an Illegal immigrant march on Dennis Hasterts house this weekend.
Not that I like Miller that much anyway.
But I guess Hispanic business leaders do.
So, I guess I'd start boycotting Miller if I ever bought any of that p*sswater.
Hmmmm, maybe I'd better ask Bud if they support Illegals....
...or should I not ask questions that I don't want to know the answers to?
(UPDATE) Ok, I searched "Budweiser illegals" and only got a lib accusing them:
Besideds they make alot better commercials.
Not that I like Miller that much anyway.
But I guess Hispanic business leaders do.
So, I guess I'd start boycotting Miller if I ever bought any of that p*sswater.
Hmmmm, maybe I'd better ask Bud if they support Illegals....
...or should I not ask questions that I don't want to know the answers to?
(UPDATE) Ok, I searched "Budweiser illegals" and only got a lib accusing them:
Besideds they make alot better commercials.
Hey, Freddy Mercury's birthday is comming up
His home country wants to celebrate it.
Freddy was gay.
Zanzibar is moslem.
Gee, what to do-Celebrate a great musician of world wide fame--or show the world your intolerance in the name of the "Religion of Piss"?
Happy Birthday freddy, let's p*ss of some muhamadens!
Freddy was gay.
Zanzibar is moslem.
Gee, what to do-Celebrate a great musician of world wide fame--or show the world your intolerance in the name of the "Religion of Piss"?
Happy Birthday freddy, let's p*ss of some muhamadens!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Bushwack has his redneck theme
Here's mine
Good thing they don't have guns.
Watch those hammocks, girls...
Good thing they don't have guns.
Watch those hammocks, girls...
Turn about is fair play
Miriam asks a pretty good question.
One that's been evolked not only in the mid-east, but in other circumstanses here as well.
Variations of "land for peace"
And
"We were here first- give it back"
If Israel has to give up it's territories, shouldn't islam be required to give up ALL the countries they stole by the sword and forced conversions?
One that's been evolked not only in the mid-east, but in other circumstanses here as well.
Variations of "land for peace"
And
"We were here first- give it back"
If Israel has to give up it's territories, shouldn't islam be required to give up ALL the countries they stole by the sword and forced conversions?
Some thoughts on "Plan B"
AKA The morning after pill, and the resulting upsurge in women eating it like candy.
If I remember right, the FDA hadn't finish all their trials on it- the long term ones- if I remember correctly. Hillary was raising a stink about Bush 'punishing' women by wanting to wait until the thing was declaired safe, so she pushed the legislation through to the White House.
Tell me... in 20 years when we have an epidemic of ...whatever cancer/reproductive problems/incontinence....who's going to get the blame for it being over the counter?
Isn't the whole "Abortion-on-demand" thing always tied to the old "What ifeverythe male in the house is abusing the defensless girl, and she needs medical care to take care of her incestual pregnancy"? OK, Now that every male the abuser can get OTC Plan-B, you just lost the opportunity for a Dr's intervention, and the abuse will continue thanks to Hillary.
Where am I wrong?
If I remember right, the FDA hadn't finish all their trials on it- the long term ones- if I remember correctly. Hillary was raising a stink about Bush 'punishing' women by wanting to wait until the thing was declaired safe, so she pushed the legislation through to the White House.
Tell me... in 20 years when we have an epidemic of ...whatever cancer/reproductive problems/incontinence....who's going to get the blame for it being over the counter?
Isn't the whole "Abortion-on-demand" thing always tied to the old "What if
Where am I wrong?
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
President Bush, members of he Senate
DO you REALLY want to reward the people who approve of this to be rewarded with amnesty?
To be able to pull that off in America?
Almost 50% voted for the Communist, alot of them are probably here now, again- because you didn't keep them out when they left.
We already have quasai roits whenever they decide to demand "rights" because the don't get enought "respect", or government handouts, or they'd be expected to do something positive for America.
Do you actually think they'd vote for the good of America instead of gravy for themselves?
Why do your Corporat masters think that in 20 years, when Ameica's been socialised by your newest voters, that their businesses won't be nationalized like the rest of Mexico- south?
To be able to pull that off in America?
Almost 50% voted for the Communist, alot of them are probably here now, again- because you didn't keep them out when they left.
We already have quasai roits whenever they decide to demand "rights" because the don't get enought "respect", or government handouts, or they'd be expected to do something positive for America.
Do you actually think they'd vote for the good of America instead of gravy for themselves?
Why do your Corporat masters think that in 20 years, when Ameica's been socialised by your newest voters, that their businesses won't be nationalized like the rest of Mexico- south?
Boy, that really sucks
Sorry CUG ,no targets for you.
I went to the river bottom to see how bad would do with Karens guns- one handed- like this months e-postal match required.
I used Karens .22 revolver (we're starting to get it set for her) and her .380 plastic auto.
I did better with my left hand than my right.
All I can say is that I hope I don't have any RINO's charging me.
Not that that's a real worry because a RINO is just a Liberal without the cajonies.
I did better with the revolver because it was heavier (WARNING- PHYSICS LESSON).
Because it was heavier, there was more mass, and inertia to stop the wiggles.
At least I got all the rounds on the paper anyway.
It looks like I won't be doing any duels for a while- at least untill I can get the shoulder fixed.
You know- workes comp. The closest thing we have to government healthcare.
I'm still waiting to hear about geting an MRI to see how bad it is.
NO----I'm still waiting to know if they'll APPROVE an MRI.
Then we can schedule one and do the rest.
I went to the river bottom to see how bad would do with Karens guns- one handed- like this months e-postal match required.
I used Karens .22 revolver (we're starting to get it set for her) and her .380 plastic auto.
I did better with my left hand than my right.
All I can say is that I hope I don't have any RINO's charging me.
Not that that's a real worry because a RINO is just a Liberal without the cajonies.
I did better with the revolver because it was heavier (WARNING- PHYSICS LESSON).
Because it was heavier, there was more mass, and inertia to stop the wiggles.
At least I got all the rounds on the paper anyway.
It looks like I won't be doing any duels for a while- at least untill I can get the shoulder fixed.
You know- workes comp. The closest thing we have to government healthcare.
I'm still waiting to hear about geting an MRI to see how bad it is.
NO----I'm still waiting to know if they'll APPROVE an MRI.
Then we can schedule one and do the rest.
It's the first anniversary of Kartina !!!!!!!!
WOOO HOoo! Where are the candles and baloons?
Ok, lets go make a big deal about how the Anti-Bush media became the story.
The only thing was affected by hurricane Katrina was N'awlines- somewhere in Missisippi a white guy got a branch knocked down by the same storm.
KKKarl rove intentionally dynomited the levies (making sure that in the last 40 years that they weren;t built right anyway).
Dick Cheny was in a rowboat in the Gulf using an electric fan to force the hurricane onto N'awlines because they were 95% Democrat.
Ray Nagin was under a CIA "chocolate mind beam" and forgot about the buses that the emergency hurricane plan said would be used to evacuate the city.
The Superdome lost part of it's roof- and a B.S. story about "ex- slaves" returning to their roots was broadcast and expanded beyond any relivant fact.
All the "bodies floating in the water" were herded from one news photo-op to the next, because there weren't *THAT* many dead people.
What else did I miss?
Oh, Yeah- William JeffersonClinton comandiered a National Guard S&R truck to grab a stash from his mansion, and when the truck got stuck- took a helocopter away from their S&R work to move his incriminating evidence to his freezer in D.C.
Ok, lets go make a big deal about how the Anti-Bush media became the story.
The only thing was affected by hurricane Katrina was N'awlines- somewhere in Missisippi a white guy got a branch knocked down by the same storm.
KKKarl rove intentionally dynomited the levies (making sure that in the last 40 years that they weren;t built right anyway).
Dick Cheny was in a rowboat in the Gulf using an electric fan to force the hurricane onto N'awlines because they were 95% Democrat.
Ray Nagin was under a CIA "chocolate mind beam" and forgot about the buses that the emergency hurricane plan said would be used to evacuate the city.
The Superdome lost part of it's roof- and a B.S. story about "ex- slaves" returning to their roots was broadcast and expanded beyond any relivant fact.
All the "bodies floating in the water" were herded from one news photo-op to the next, because there weren't *THAT* many dead people.
What else did I miss?
Oh, Yeah- William Jefferson
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Third time should be a charm, right?
Lets see if Google wants to let me post now.
Because it's starting to change the rules on us barnyard animals.
I guess that'll bemy your next reading assignment- exept that I'll use this-search-engine-that shall-not-be-named instead of "big Brother".
Maybe some will start to see parallels.
Anyway, Karen sent me this citizenship test from the INS study guide.
If I would have even cracked a history book to refresh myself on the founding years, I would have aced it. I missed the exact years and colonies of the questions.
I thought it was supposed to be challenging, but they're all variations of the core 10- or so questions. The only way I can see anyone failing this is that A) they slept through history, B) they took it in "Anglis" instead ofMexican spanish or C) they're a current graduate of our government schools.
Now I really need to actually get something accompished today, like put some holes in a target for CUG
And actually finish making Rhianna's trivet. I'm working on ti- really! I came inside to print out a Texas map- and got started on this post.
Instead of trying to beat Karens score of 8645 on this game.
Because it's starting to change the rules on us barnyard animals.
I guess that'll be
Maybe some will start to see parallels.
Anyway, Karen sent me this citizenship test from the INS study guide.
If I would have even cracked a history book to refresh myself on the founding years, I would have aced it. I missed the exact years and colonies of the questions.
I thought it was supposed to be challenging, but they're all variations of the core 10- or so questions. The only way I can see anyone failing this is that A) they slept through history, B) they took it in "Anglis" instead of
Now I really need to actually get something accompished today, like put some holes in a target for CUG
And actually finish making Rhianna's trivet. I'm working on ti- really! I came inside to print out a Texas map- and got started on this post.
Instead of trying to beat Karens score of 8645 on this game.
Two more chapters to go on our examination of political animals
In which we see the usual results of not holding the leash of your leaders.
And again, how maliable poblic opinion is.
BOXER'S split hoof was a long time in healing. They had started the rebuilding of the windmill the day after the victory celebrations were ended Boxer refused to take even a day off work, and made it a point of honour not to let it be seen that he was in pain. In the evenings he would admit privately to Clover that the hoof troubled him a great deal. Clover treated the hoof with poultices of herbs which she prepared by chewing them, and both she and Benjamin urged Boxer to work less hard. "A horse's lungs do not last for ever," she said to him. But Boxer would not listen. He had, he said, only one real ambition left-to see the windmill well under way before he reached the age for retirement.
At the beginning, when the laws of Animal Farm were first formulated, the retiring age had been fixed for horses and pigs at twelve, for cows at fourteen, for dogs at nine, for sheep at seven, and for hens and geese at five. Liberal old-age pensions had been agreed upon. As yet no animal had actually retired on pension, but of late the subject had been discussed more and more. Now that the small field beyond the orchard had been set aside for barley, it was rumoured that a corner of the large pasture was to be fenced off and turned into a grazing-ground for superannuated animals. For a horse, it was said, the pension would be five pounds of corn a day and, in winter, fifteen pounds of hay, with a carrot or possibly an apple on public holidays. Boxer's twelfth birthday was due in the late summer of the following year.
Meanwhile life was hard. The winter was as cold as the last one had been, and food was even shorter. Once again all rations were reduced, except those of the pigs and the dogs. A too rigid equality in rations, Squealer explained, would have been contrary to the principles of Animalism. In any case he had no difficulty in proving to the other animals that they were not in reality short of food, whatever the appearances might be. For the time being, certainly, it had been found necessary to make a readjustment of rations (Squealer always spoke of it as a "readjustment," never as a "reduction"), but in comparison with the days of Jones, the improvement was enormous. Reading out the figures in a shrill, rapid voice, he proved to them in detail that they had more oats, more hay, more turnips than they had had in Jones's day, that they worked shorter hours, that their drinking water was of better quality, that they lived longer, that a larger proportion of their young ones survived infancy, and that they had more straw in their stalls and suffered less from fleas. The animals believed every word of it. Truth to tell, Jones and all he stood for had almost faded out of their memories. They knew that life nowadays was harsh and bare, that they were often hungry and often cold, and that they were usually working when they were not asleep. But doubtless it had been worse in the old days. They were glad to believe so. Besides, in those days they had been slaves and now they were free, and that made all the difference, as Squealer did not fail to point out.
There were many more mouths to feed now. In the autumn the four sows had all littered about simultaneously, producing thirty-one young pigs between them. The young pigs were piebald, and as Napoleon was the only boar on the farm, it was possible to guess at their parentage. It was announced that later, when bricks and timber had been purchased, a schoolroom would be built in the farmhouse garden. For the time being, the young pigs were given their instruction by Napoleon himself in the farmhouse kitchen. They took their exercise in the garden, and were discouraged from playing with the other young animals. About this time, too, it was laid down as a rule that when a pig and any other animal met on the path, the other animal must stand aside: and also that all pigs, of whatever degree, were to have the privilege of wearing green ribbons on their tails on Sundays.
The farm had had a fairly successful year, but was still short of money. There were the bricks, sand, and lime for the schoolroom to be purchased, and it would also be necessary to begin saving up again for the machinery for the windmill. Then there were lamp oil and candles for the house, sugar for Napoleon's own table (he forbade this to the other pigs, on the ground that it made them fat), and all the usual replacements such as tools, nails, string, coal, wire, scrap-iron, and dog biscuits. A stump of hay and part of the potato crop were sold off, and the contract for eggs was increased to six hundred a week, so that that year the hens barely hatched enough chicks to keep their numbers at the same level. Rations, reduced in December, were reduced again in February, and lanterns in the stalls were forbidden to save Oil. But the pigs seemed comfortable enough, and in fact were putting on weight if anything. One afternoon in late February a warm, rich, appetising scent, such as the animals had never smelt before, wafted itself across the yard from the little brew-house, which had been disused in Jones's time, and which stood beyond the kitchen. Someone said it was the smell of cooking barley. The animals sniffed the air hungrily and wondered whether a warm mash was being prepared for their supper. But no warm mash appeared, and on the following Sunday it was announced that from now onwards all barley would be reserved for the pigs. The field beyond the orchard had already been sown with barley. And the news soon leaked out that every pig was now receiving a ration of a pint of beer daily, with half a gallon for Napoleon himself, which was always served to him in the Crown Derby soup tureen.
But if there were hardships to be borne, they were partly offset by the fact that life nowadays had a greater dignity than it had had before. There were more songs, more speeches, more processions. Napoleon had commanded that once a week there should be held something called a Spontaneous Demonstration, the object of which was to celebrate the struggles and triumphs of Animal Farm. At the appointed time the animals would leave their work and march round the precincts of the farm in military formation, with the pigs leading, then the horses, then the cows, then the sheep, and then the poultry. The dogs flanked the procession and at the head of all marched Napoleon's black cockerel. Boxer and Clover always carried between them a green banner marked with the hoof and the horn and the caption, "Long live Comrade Napoleon! " Afterwards there were recitations of poems composed in Napoleon's honour, and a speech by Squealer giving particulars of the latest increases in the production of foodstuffs, and on occasion a shot was fired from the gun. The sheep were the greatest devotees of the Spontaneous Demonstration, and if anyone complained (as a few animals sometimes did, when no pigs or dogs were near) that they wasted time and meant a lot of standing about in the cold, the sheep were sure to silence him with a tremendous bleating of "Four legs good, two legs bad!" But by and large the animals enjoyed these celebrations. They found it comforting to be reminded that, after all, they were truly their own masters and that the work they did was for their own benefit. So that, what with the songs, the processions, Squealer's lists of figures, the thunder of the gun, the crowing of the cockerel, and the fluttering of the flag, they were able to forget that their bellies were empty, at least part of the time.
In April, Animal Farm was proclaimed a Republic, and it became necessary to elect a President. There was only one candidate, Napoleon, who was elected unanimously. On the same day it was given out that fresh documents had been discovered which revealed further details about Snowball's complicity with Jones. It now appeared that Snowball had not, as the animals had previously imagined, merely attempted to lose the Battle of the Cowshed by means of a stratagem, but had been openly fighting on Jones's side. In fact, it was he who had actually been the leader of the human forces, and had charged into battle with the words "Long live Humanity!" on his lips. The wounds on Snowball's back, which a few of the animals still remembered to have seen, had been inflicted by Napoleon's teeth.
In the middle of the summer Moses the raven suddenly reappeared on the farm, after an absence of several years. He was quite unchanged, still did no work, and talked in the same strain as ever about Sugarcandy Mountain. He would perch on a stump, flap his black wings, and talk by the hour to anyone who would listen. "Up there, comrades," he would say solemnly, pointing to the sky with his large beak-"up there, just on the other side of that dark cloud that you can see-there it lies, Sugarcandy Mountain, that happy country where we poor animals shall rest for ever from our labours!" He even claimed to have been there on one of his higher flights, and to have seen the everlasting fields of clover and the linseed cake and lump sugar growing on the hedges. Many of the animals believed him. Their lives now, they reasoned, were hungry and laborious; was it not right and just that a better world should exist somewhere else? A thing that was difficult to determine was the attitude of the pigs towards Moses. They all declared contemptuously that his stories about Sugarcandy Mountain were lies, and yet they allowed him to remain on the farm, not working, with an allowance of a gill of beer a day.
After his hoof had healed up, Boxer worked harder than ever. Indeed, all the animals worked like slaves that year. Apart from the regular work of the farm, and the rebuilding of the windmill, there was the schoolhouse for the young pigs, which was started in March. Sometimes the long hours on insufficient food were hard to bear, but Boxer never faltered. In nothing that he said or did was there any sign that his strength was not what it had been. It was only his appearance that was a little altered; his hide was less shiny than it had used to be, and his great haunches seemed to have shrunken. The others said, "Boxer will pick up when the spring grass comes on"; but the spring came and Boxer grew no fatter. Sometimes on the slope leading to the top of the quarry, when he braced his muscles against the weight of some vast boulder, it seemed that nothing kept him on his feet except the will to continue. At such times his lips were seen to form the words, "I will work harder"; he had no voice left. Once again Clover and Benjamin warned him to take care of his health, but Boxer paid no attention. His twelfth birthday was approaching. He did not care what happened so long as a good store of stone was accumulated before he went on pension.
Late one evening in the summer, a sudden rumour ran round the farm that something had happened to Boxer. He had gone out alone to drag a load of stone down to the windmill. And sure enough, the rumour was true. A few minutes later two pigeons came racing in with the news: "Boxer has fallen! He is lying on his side and can't get up!"
About half the animals on the farm rushed out to the knoll where the windmill stood. There lay Boxer, between the shafts of the cart, his neck stretched out, unable even to raise his head. His eyes were glazed, his sides matted with sweat. A thin stream of blood had trickled out of his mouth. Clover dropped to her knees at his side.
"Boxer!" she cried, "how are you?"
"It is my lung," said Boxer in a weak voice. "It does not matter. I think you will be able to finish the windmill without me. There is a pretty good store of stone accumulated. I had only another month to go in any case. To tell you the truth, I had been looking forward to my retirement. And perhaps, as Benjamin is growing old too, they will let him retire at the same time and be a companion to me."
"We must get help at once," said Clover. "Run, somebody, and tell Squealer what has happened."
All the other animals immediately raced back to the farmhouse to give Squealer the news. Only Clover remained, and Benjamin7 who lay down at Boxer's side, and, without speaking, kept the flies off him with his long tail. After about a quarter of an hour Squealer appeared, full of sympathy and concern. He said that Comrade Napoleon had learned with the very deepest distress of this misfortune to one of the most loyal workers on the farm, and was already making arrangements to send Boxer to be treated in the hospital at Willingdon. The animals felt a little uneasy at this. Except for Mollie and Snowball, no other animal had ever left the farm, and they did not like to think of their sick comrade in the hands of human beings. However, Squealer easily convinced them that the veterinary surgeon in Willingdon could treat Boxer's case more satisfactorily than could be done on the farm. And about half an hour later, when Boxer had somewhat recovered, he was with difficulty got on to his feet, and managed to limp back to his stall, where Clover and Benjamin had prepared a good bed of straw for him.
For the next two days Boxer remained in his stall. The pigs had sent out a large bottle of pink medicine which they had found in the medicine chest in the bathroom, and Clover administered it to Boxer twice a day after meals. In the evenings she lay in his stall and talked to him, while Benjamin kept the flies off him. Boxer professed not to be sorry for what had happened. If he made a good recovery, he might expect to live another three years, and he looked forward to the peaceful days that he would spend in the corner of the big pasture. It would be the first time that he had had leisure to study and improve his mind. He intended, he said, to devote the rest of his life to learning the remaining twenty-two letters of the alphabet.
However, Benjamin and Clover could only be with Boxer after working hours, and it was in the middle of the day when the van came to take him away. The animals were all at work weeding turnips under the supervision of a pig, when they were astonished to see Benjamin come galloping from the direction of the farm buildings, braying at the top of his voice. It was the first time that they had ever seen Benjamin excited-indeed, it was the first time that anyone had ever seen him gallop. "Quick, quick!" he shouted. "Come at once! They're taking Boxer away!" Without waiting for orders from the pig, the animals broke off work and raced back to the farm buildings. Sure enough, there in the yard was a large closed van, drawn by two horses, with lettering on its side and a sly-looking man in a low-crowned bowler hat sitting on the driver's seat. And Boxer's stall was empty.
The animals crowded round the van. "Good-bye, Boxer!" they chorused, "good-bye!"
"Fools! Fools!" shouted Benjamin, prancing round them and stamping the earth with his small hoofs. "Fools! Do you not see what is written on the side of that van?"
That gave the animals pause, and there was a hush. Muriel began to spell out the words. But Benjamin pushed her aside and in the midst of a deadly silence he read:
" 'Alfred Simmonds, Horse Slaughterer and Glue Boiler, Willingdon. Dealer in Hides and Bone-Meal. Kennels Supplied.' Do you not understand what that means? They are taking Boxer to the knacker's! "
A cry of horror burst from all the animals. At this moment the man on the box whipped up his horses and the van moved out of the yard at a smart trot. All the animals followed, crying out at the tops of their voices. Clover forced her way to the front. The van began to gather speed. Clover tried to stir her stout limbs to a gallop, and achieved a canter. "Boxer!" she cried. "Boxer! Boxer! Boxer!" And just at this moment, as though he had heard the uproar outside, Boxer's face, with the white stripe down his nose, appeared at the small window at the back of the van.
"Boxer!" cried Clover in a terrible voice. "Boxer! Get out! Get out quickly! They're taking you to your death!"
All the animals took up the cry of "Get out, Boxer, get out!" But the van was already gathering speed and drawing away from them. It was uncertain whether Boxer had understood what Clover had said. But a moment later his face disappeared from the window and there was the sound of a tremendous drumming of hoofs inside the van. He was trying to kick his way out. The time had been when a few kicks from Boxer's hoofs would have smashed the van to matchwood. But alas! his strength had left him; and in a few moments the sound of drumming hoofs grew fainter and died away. In desperation the animals began appealing to the two horses which drew the van to stop. "Comrades, comrades!" they shouted. "Don't take your own brother to his death! " But the stupid brutes, too ignorant to realise what was happening, merely set back their ears and quickened their pace. Boxer's face did not reappear at the window. Too late, someone thought of racing ahead and shutting the five-barred gate; but in another moment the van was through it and rapidly disappearing down the road. Boxer was never seen again.
Three days later it was announced that he had died in the hospital at Willingdon, in spite of receiving every attention a horse could have. Squealer came to announce the news to the others. He had, he said, been present during Boxer's last hours.
"It was the most affecting sight I have ever seen!" said Squealer, lifting his trotter and wiping away a tear. "I was at his bedside at the very last. And at the end, almost too weak to speak, he whispered in my ear that his sole sorrow was to have passed on before the windmill was finished. 'Forward, comrades!' he whispered. 'Forward in the name of the Rebellion. Long live Animal Farm! Long live Comrade Napoleon! Napoleon is always right.' Those were his very last words, comrades."
Here Squealer's demeanour suddenly changed. He fell silent for a moment, and his little eyes darted suspicious glances from side to side before he proceeded.
It had come to his knowledge, he said, that a foolish and wicked rumour had been circulated at the time of Boxer's removal. Some of the animals had noticed that the van which took Boxer away was marked "Horse Slaughterer," and had actually jumped to the conclusion that Boxer was being sent to the knacker's. It was almost unbelievable, said Squealer, that any animal could be so stupid. Surely, he cried indignantly, whisking his tail and skipping from side to side, surely they knew their beloved Leader, Comrade Napoleon, better than that? But the explanation was really very simple. The van had previously been the property of the knacker, and had been bought by the veterinary surgeon, who had not yet painted the old name out. That was how the mistake had arisen.
The animals were enormously relieved to hear this. And when Squealer went on to give further graphic details of Boxer's death-bed, the admirable care he had received, and the expensive medicines for which Napoleon had paid without a thought as to the cost, their last doubts disappeared and the sorrow that they felt for their comrade's death was tempered by the thought that at least he had died happy.
Napoleon himself appeared at the meeting on the following Sunday morning and pronounced a short oration in Boxer's honour. It had not been possible, he said, to bring back their lamented comrade's remains for interment on the farm, but he had ordered a large wreath to be made from the laurels in the farmhouse garden and sent down to be placed on Boxer's grave. And in a few days' time the pigs intended to hold a memorial banquet in Boxer's honour. Napoleon ended his speech with a reminder of Boxer's two favourite maxims, "I will work harder" and "Comrade Napoleon is always right"-maxims, he said, which every animal would do well to adopt as his own.
On the day appointed for the banquet, a grocer's van drove up from Willingdon and delivered a large wooden crate at the farmhouse. That night there was the sound of uproarious singing, which was followed by what sounded like a violent quarrel and ended at about eleven o'clock with a tremendous crash of glass. No one stirred in the farmhouse before noon on the following day, and the word went round that from somewhere or other the pigs had acquired the money to buy themselves another case of whisky.
And again, how maliable poblic opinion is.
BOXER'S split hoof was a long time in healing. They had started the rebuilding of the windmill the day after the victory celebrations were ended Boxer refused to take even a day off work, and made it a point of honour not to let it be seen that he was in pain. In the evenings he would admit privately to Clover that the hoof troubled him a great deal. Clover treated the hoof with poultices of herbs which she prepared by chewing them, and both she and Benjamin urged Boxer to work less hard. "A horse's lungs do not last for ever," she said to him. But Boxer would not listen. He had, he said, only one real ambition left-to see the windmill well under way before he reached the age for retirement.
At the beginning, when the laws of Animal Farm were first formulated, the retiring age had been fixed for horses and pigs at twelve, for cows at fourteen, for dogs at nine, for sheep at seven, and for hens and geese at five. Liberal old-age pensions had been agreed upon. As yet no animal had actually retired on pension, but of late the subject had been discussed more and more. Now that the small field beyond the orchard had been set aside for barley, it was rumoured that a corner of the large pasture was to be fenced off and turned into a grazing-ground for superannuated animals. For a horse, it was said, the pension would be five pounds of corn a day and, in winter, fifteen pounds of hay, with a carrot or possibly an apple on public holidays. Boxer's twelfth birthday was due in the late summer of the following year.
Meanwhile life was hard. The winter was as cold as the last one had been, and food was even shorter. Once again all rations were reduced, except those of the pigs and the dogs. A too rigid equality in rations, Squealer explained, would have been contrary to the principles of Animalism. In any case he had no difficulty in proving to the other animals that they were not in reality short of food, whatever the appearances might be. For the time being, certainly, it had been found necessary to make a readjustment of rations (Squealer always spoke of it as a "readjustment," never as a "reduction"), but in comparison with the days of Jones, the improvement was enormous. Reading out the figures in a shrill, rapid voice, he proved to them in detail that they had more oats, more hay, more turnips than they had had in Jones's day, that they worked shorter hours, that their drinking water was of better quality, that they lived longer, that a larger proportion of their young ones survived infancy, and that they had more straw in their stalls and suffered less from fleas. The animals believed every word of it. Truth to tell, Jones and all he stood for had almost faded out of their memories. They knew that life nowadays was harsh and bare, that they were often hungry and often cold, and that they were usually working when they were not asleep. But doubtless it had been worse in the old days. They were glad to believe so. Besides, in those days they had been slaves and now they were free, and that made all the difference, as Squealer did not fail to point out.
There were many more mouths to feed now. In the autumn the four sows had all littered about simultaneously, producing thirty-one young pigs between them. The young pigs were piebald, and as Napoleon was the only boar on the farm, it was possible to guess at their parentage. It was announced that later, when bricks and timber had been purchased, a schoolroom would be built in the farmhouse garden. For the time being, the young pigs were given their instruction by Napoleon himself in the farmhouse kitchen. They took their exercise in the garden, and were discouraged from playing with the other young animals. About this time, too, it was laid down as a rule that when a pig and any other animal met on the path, the other animal must stand aside: and also that all pigs, of whatever degree, were to have the privilege of wearing green ribbons on their tails on Sundays.
The farm had had a fairly successful year, but was still short of money. There were the bricks, sand, and lime for the schoolroom to be purchased, and it would also be necessary to begin saving up again for the machinery for the windmill. Then there were lamp oil and candles for the house, sugar for Napoleon's own table (he forbade this to the other pigs, on the ground that it made them fat), and all the usual replacements such as tools, nails, string, coal, wire, scrap-iron, and dog biscuits. A stump of hay and part of the potato crop were sold off, and the contract for eggs was increased to six hundred a week, so that that year the hens barely hatched enough chicks to keep their numbers at the same level. Rations, reduced in December, were reduced again in February, and lanterns in the stalls were forbidden to save Oil. But the pigs seemed comfortable enough, and in fact were putting on weight if anything. One afternoon in late February a warm, rich, appetising scent, such as the animals had never smelt before, wafted itself across the yard from the little brew-house, which had been disused in Jones's time, and which stood beyond the kitchen. Someone said it was the smell of cooking barley. The animals sniffed the air hungrily and wondered whether a warm mash was being prepared for their supper. But no warm mash appeared, and on the following Sunday it was announced that from now onwards all barley would be reserved for the pigs. The field beyond the orchard had already been sown with barley. And the news soon leaked out that every pig was now receiving a ration of a pint of beer daily, with half a gallon for Napoleon himself, which was always served to him in the Crown Derby soup tureen.
But if there were hardships to be borne, they were partly offset by the fact that life nowadays had a greater dignity than it had had before. There were more songs, more speeches, more processions. Napoleon had commanded that once a week there should be held something called a Spontaneous Demonstration, the object of which was to celebrate the struggles and triumphs of Animal Farm. At the appointed time the animals would leave their work and march round the precincts of the farm in military formation, with the pigs leading, then the horses, then the cows, then the sheep, and then the poultry. The dogs flanked the procession and at the head of all marched Napoleon's black cockerel. Boxer and Clover always carried between them a green banner marked with the hoof and the horn and the caption, "Long live Comrade Napoleon! " Afterwards there were recitations of poems composed in Napoleon's honour, and a speech by Squealer giving particulars of the latest increases in the production of foodstuffs, and on occasion a shot was fired from the gun. The sheep were the greatest devotees of the Spontaneous Demonstration, and if anyone complained (as a few animals sometimes did, when no pigs or dogs were near) that they wasted time and meant a lot of standing about in the cold, the sheep were sure to silence him with a tremendous bleating of "Four legs good, two legs bad!" But by and large the animals enjoyed these celebrations. They found it comforting to be reminded that, after all, they were truly their own masters and that the work they did was for their own benefit. So that, what with the songs, the processions, Squealer's lists of figures, the thunder of the gun, the crowing of the cockerel, and the fluttering of the flag, they were able to forget that their bellies were empty, at least part of the time.
In April, Animal Farm was proclaimed a Republic, and it became necessary to elect a President. There was only one candidate, Napoleon, who was elected unanimously. On the same day it was given out that fresh documents had been discovered which revealed further details about Snowball's complicity with Jones. It now appeared that Snowball had not, as the animals had previously imagined, merely attempted to lose the Battle of the Cowshed by means of a stratagem, but had been openly fighting on Jones's side. In fact, it was he who had actually been the leader of the human forces, and had charged into battle with the words "Long live Humanity!" on his lips. The wounds on Snowball's back, which a few of the animals still remembered to have seen, had been inflicted by Napoleon's teeth.
In the middle of the summer Moses the raven suddenly reappeared on the farm, after an absence of several years. He was quite unchanged, still did no work, and talked in the same strain as ever about Sugarcandy Mountain. He would perch on a stump, flap his black wings, and talk by the hour to anyone who would listen. "Up there, comrades," he would say solemnly, pointing to the sky with his large beak-"up there, just on the other side of that dark cloud that you can see-there it lies, Sugarcandy Mountain, that happy country where we poor animals shall rest for ever from our labours!" He even claimed to have been there on one of his higher flights, and to have seen the everlasting fields of clover and the linseed cake and lump sugar growing on the hedges. Many of the animals believed him. Their lives now, they reasoned, were hungry and laborious; was it not right and just that a better world should exist somewhere else? A thing that was difficult to determine was the attitude of the pigs towards Moses. They all declared contemptuously that his stories about Sugarcandy Mountain were lies, and yet they allowed him to remain on the farm, not working, with an allowance of a gill of beer a day.
After his hoof had healed up, Boxer worked harder than ever. Indeed, all the animals worked like slaves that year. Apart from the regular work of the farm, and the rebuilding of the windmill, there was the schoolhouse for the young pigs, which was started in March. Sometimes the long hours on insufficient food were hard to bear, but Boxer never faltered. In nothing that he said or did was there any sign that his strength was not what it had been. It was only his appearance that was a little altered; his hide was less shiny than it had used to be, and his great haunches seemed to have shrunken. The others said, "Boxer will pick up when the spring grass comes on"; but the spring came and Boxer grew no fatter. Sometimes on the slope leading to the top of the quarry, when he braced his muscles against the weight of some vast boulder, it seemed that nothing kept him on his feet except the will to continue. At such times his lips were seen to form the words, "I will work harder"; he had no voice left. Once again Clover and Benjamin warned him to take care of his health, but Boxer paid no attention. His twelfth birthday was approaching. He did not care what happened so long as a good store of stone was accumulated before he went on pension.
Late one evening in the summer, a sudden rumour ran round the farm that something had happened to Boxer. He had gone out alone to drag a load of stone down to the windmill. And sure enough, the rumour was true. A few minutes later two pigeons came racing in with the news: "Boxer has fallen! He is lying on his side and can't get up!"
About half the animals on the farm rushed out to the knoll where the windmill stood. There lay Boxer, between the shafts of the cart, his neck stretched out, unable even to raise his head. His eyes were glazed, his sides matted with sweat. A thin stream of blood had trickled out of his mouth. Clover dropped to her knees at his side.
"Boxer!" she cried, "how are you?"
"It is my lung," said Boxer in a weak voice. "It does not matter. I think you will be able to finish the windmill without me. There is a pretty good store of stone accumulated. I had only another month to go in any case. To tell you the truth, I had been looking forward to my retirement. And perhaps, as Benjamin is growing old too, they will let him retire at the same time and be a companion to me."
"We must get help at once," said Clover. "Run, somebody, and tell Squealer what has happened."
All the other animals immediately raced back to the farmhouse to give Squealer the news. Only Clover remained, and Benjamin7 who lay down at Boxer's side, and, without speaking, kept the flies off him with his long tail. After about a quarter of an hour Squealer appeared, full of sympathy and concern. He said that Comrade Napoleon had learned with the very deepest distress of this misfortune to one of the most loyal workers on the farm, and was already making arrangements to send Boxer to be treated in the hospital at Willingdon. The animals felt a little uneasy at this. Except for Mollie and Snowball, no other animal had ever left the farm, and they did not like to think of their sick comrade in the hands of human beings. However, Squealer easily convinced them that the veterinary surgeon in Willingdon could treat Boxer's case more satisfactorily than could be done on the farm. And about half an hour later, when Boxer had somewhat recovered, he was with difficulty got on to his feet, and managed to limp back to his stall, where Clover and Benjamin had prepared a good bed of straw for him.
For the next two days Boxer remained in his stall. The pigs had sent out a large bottle of pink medicine which they had found in the medicine chest in the bathroom, and Clover administered it to Boxer twice a day after meals. In the evenings she lay in his stall and talked to him, while Benjamin kept the flies off him. Boxer professed not to be sorry for what had happened. If he made a good recovery, he might expect to live another three years, and he looked forward to the peaceful days that he would spend in the corner of the big pasture. It would be the first time that he had had leisure to study and improve his mind. He intended, he said, to devote the rest of his life to learning the remaining twenty-two letters of the alphabet.
However, Benjamin and Clover could only be with Boxer after working hours, and it was in the middle of the day when the van came to take him away. The animals were all at work weeding turnips under the supervision of a pig, when they were astonished to see Benjamin come galloping from the direction of the farm buildings, braying at the top of his voice. It was the first time that they had ever seen Benjamin excited-indeed, it was the first time that anyone had ever seen him gallop. "Quick, quick!" he shouted. "Come at once! They're taking Boxer away!" Without waiting for orders from the pig, the animals broke off work and raced back to the farm buildings. Sure enough, there in the yard was a large closed van, drawn by two horses, with lettering on its side and a sly-looking man in a low-crowned bowler hat sitting on the driver's seat. And Boxer's stall was empty.
The animals crowded round the van. "Good-bye, Boxer!" they chorused, "good-bye!"
"Fools! Fools!" shouted Benjamin, prancing round them and stamping the earth with his small hoofs. "Fools! Do you not see what is written on the side of that van?"
That gave the animals pause, and there was a hush. Muriel began to spell out the words. But Benjamin pushed her aside and in the midst of a deadly silence he read:
" 'Alfred Simmonds, Horse Slaughterer and Glue Boiler, Willingdon. Dealer in Hides and Bone-Meal. Kennels Supplied.' Do you not understand what that means? They are taking Boxer to the knacker's! "
A cry of horror burst from all the animals. At this moment the man on the box whipped up his horses and the van moved out of the yard at a smart trot. All the animals followed, crying out at the tops of their voices. Clover forced her way to the front. The van began to gather speed. Clover tried to stir her stout limbs to a gallop, and achieved a canter. "Boxer!" she cried. "Boxer! Boxer! Boxer!" And just at this moment, as though he had heard the uproar outside, Boxer's face, with the white stripe down his nose, appeared at the small window at the back of the van.
"Boxer!" cried Clover in a terrible voice. "Boxer! Get out! Get out quickly! They're taking you to your death!"
All the animals took up the cry of "Get out, Boxer, get out!" But the van was already gathering speed and drawing away from them. It was uncertain whether Boxer had understood what Clover had said. But a moment later his face disappeared from the window and there was the sound of a tremendous drumming of hoofs inside the van. He was trying to kick his way out. The time had been when a few kicks from Boxer's hoofs would have smashed the van to matchwood. But alas! his strength had left him; and in a few moments the sound of drumming hoofs grew fainter and died away. In desperation the animals began appealing to the two horses which drew the van to stop. "Comrades, comrades!" they shouted. "Don't take your own brother to his death! " But the stupid brutes, too ignorant to realise what was happening, merely set back their ears and quickened their pace. Boxer's face did not reappear at the window. Too late, someone thought of racing ahead and shutting the five-barred gate; but in another moment the van was through it and rapidly disappearing down the road. Boxer was never seen again.
Three days later it was announced that he had died in the hospital at Willingdon, in spite of receiving every attention a horse could have. Squealer came to announce the news to the others. He had, he said, been present during Boxer's last hours.
"It was the most affecting sight I have ever seen!" said Squealer, lifting his trotter and wiping away a tear. "I was at his bedside at the very last. And at the end, almost too weak to speak, he whispered in my ear that his sole sorrow was to have passed on before the windmill was finished. 'Forward, comrades!' he whispered. 'Forward in the name of the Rebellion. Long live Animal Farm! Long live Comrade Napoleon! Napoleon is always right.' Those were his very last words, comrades."
Here Squealer's demeanour suddenly changed. He fell silent for a moment, and his little eyes darted suspicious glances from side to side before he proceeded.
It had come to his knowledge, he said, that a foolish and wicked rumour had been circulated at the time of Boxer's removal. Some of the animals had noticed that the van which took Boxer away was marked "Horse Slaughterer," and had actually jumped to the conclusion that Boxer was being sent to the knacker's. It was almost unbelievable, said Squealer, that any animal could be so stupid. Surely, he cried indignantly, whisking his tail and skipping from side to side, surely they knew their beloved Leader, Comrade Napoleon, better than that? But the explanation was really very simple. The van had previously been the property of the knacker, and had been bought by the veterinary surgeon, who had not yet painted the old name out. That was how the mistake had arisen.
The animals were enormously relieved to hear this. And when Squealer went on to give further graphic details of Boxer's death-bed, the admirable care he had received, and the expensive medicines for which Napoleon had paid without a thought as to the cost, their last doubts disappeared and the sorrow that they felt for their comrade's death was tempered by the thought that at least he had died happy.
Napoleon himself appeared at the meeting on the following Sunday morning and pronounced a short oration in Boxer's honour. It had not been possible, he said, to bring back their lamented comrade's remains for interment on the farm, but he had ordered a large wreath to be made from the laurels in the farmhouse garden and sent down to be placed on Boxer's grave. And in a few days' time the pigs intended to hold a memorial banquet in Boxer's honour. Napoleon ended his speech with a reminder of Boxer's two favourite maxims, "I will work harder" and "Comrade Napoleon is always right"-maxims, he said, which every animal would do well to adopt as his own.
On the day appointed for the banquet, a grocer's van drove up from Willingdon and delivered a large wooden crate at the farmhouse. That night there was the sound of uproarious singing, which was followed by what sounded like a violent quarrel and ended at about eleven o'clock with a tremendous crash of glass. No one stirred in the farmhouse before noon on the following day, and the word went round that from somewhere or other the pigs had acquired the money to buy themselves another case of whisky.
Monday, August 28, 2006
THAT's the result of a missile hit???
You know, the armored "press" truck that supposedly got hit by an Israeli missle by being in the middle of a firefight.
What did they do? Remove the warhead first?
How.........Orwellian- or should I say 'Googillian', I can't find any links to the story by searching Yahoo for "Israeli missile hits press truck". I'm sure there would be stories all over if it wasn't "Fake but accurate"
Speaking of "Big Brother", did you hear about the merger between Google and E-bay? Right now it's just ads outside of America. When will it be inside and telling you what you can and can't buy? You need to start getting worried.
In another story this weekend- hardly related at all, was a comment that was neither fake- nor accurate.
"Chocolate Boy" Nagin responded to a reportes question about the lack of clean-up a year after the hurrican by saying something like 'you people in NYC still have that hole in the gound after five years.' That's right Ray Wonka, but they DID have it cleaned up within a year. Alot more debries and lives lost than your pathetic attempts.
-And they did it when it happend without warning.
-And without a pre-prepaired disaster plan (which you used for toilet paper).
Pic stolen from Dr. Rusty
Sunday, August 27, 2006
I'm surfing with Comedy Central in the background
They're doing a roast of Willian Shatner.
I can't believe how unfunny it is.
They must have either free "hash brownies" or THC enhanced ventalation for the audience to laugh hysterically at those lame- like a horse with a broken leg is lame- jokes.
Not to mention that I'm not so hip as to enjoy sexual innuendoes aimed at overage actresses, and the complete lack of class going into any microphone.
Oh, yeah- and the four letter bleepouts every other word.
No wonder I don't watch alot of popular TV.
Betty White is actually being funny with her roast- I guess that's from being comfortable with multi-sylable words and a complex sentence structure.
I can't believe how unfunny it is.
They must have either free "hash brownies" or THC enhanced ventalation for the audience to laugh hysterically at those lame- like a horse with a broken leg is lame- jokes.
Not to mention that I'm not so hip as to enjoy sexual innuendoes aimed at overage actresses, and the complete lack of class going into any microphone.
Oh, yeah- and the four letter bleepouts every other word.
No wonder I don't watch alot of popular TV.
Betty White is actually being funny with her roast- I guess that's from being comfortable with multi-sylable words and a complex sentence structure.
Conversation with a member of the reality biased community
PETA: Hypocrites At Their Dumbest
Not long ago I was having a discussion with several persons whom represent PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). I asked them several questions which they were unable to answer, and it got me to thinking just how hypocritical these people really are. A couple of them were vegetarians and that's where it really got twisted. It went something like this:
Me: You believe that killing animals for food is wrong?
Them: Yes, it's cruel to kill animals for any reason.
Me: Do you have any pets like cats or dogs?
Them: Sure, I love animals and enjoy their companionship.
Me: You take good care of them don't you, I mean take them to the veterinarian regularly and feed them well, right?
Them: Oh yes, absolutely. I love my pets like I love my own children!
Me: What do you feed them?
Them: Mostly canned foods, like Alpo or Purina. They like the soft foods better than the dry, so that's what I give them.
Me: So you're saying you feed your pets meat?
Them: I guess so, that's what they like.
Me: So then it's okay to kill other animals for food?
Them: No, killing animals is cruel for any reason!
Me: But you just said you feed meat to your pets.
Them: --silence--
Me: It seems to me if you feed meat to your pets then you're advocating the killing of animals for food.
Them: That's different though!
Me: How so? You already said that killing animals for any reason is cruel.
Them: Umm, uhh, well you see, uhh.. dogs and cats are omnivorous and need meat in their diet.
Me: Actually most dogs and cats are carnivorous by nature and are forced omnivorous diets when domesticated, but you bring up a good point. Humans have always been omnivorous for all of recorded history, and you're trying to force vegetarianism on people saying it's ethical, while saying that it's wrong to force vegetarianism on animals. Seems a little bit hypocritical don't you think?
Them: It's would be unethical to force animals to eat a diet un-natural to them!
Me: Isn't that exactly what you're trying to force on people though?
Them: Well, yes, but...
Me: Look, you said earlier that it's wrong to kill animals for any reason. Then you said it's okay to kill animals to feed other animals. Which is it, either killing for food is right or wrong, which side of the line are standing on?
Them: --silence--
Me: That's okay, your saying nothing is answer enough.
Read the rest.
...And yes, he's going on my blogroll whenever I get around to updating afgain.
Not long ago I was having a discussion with several persons whom represent PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). I asked them several questions which they were unable to answer, and it got me to thinking just how hypocritical these people really are. A couple of them were vegetarians and that's where it really got twisted. It went something like this:
Me: You believe that killing animals for food is wrong?
Them: Yes, it's cruel to kill animals for any reason.
Me: Do you have any pets like cats or dogs?
Them: Sure, I love animals and enjoy their companionship.
Me: You take good care of them don't you, I mean take them to the veterinarian regularly and feed them well, right?
Them: Oh yes, absolutely. I love my pets like I love my own children!
Me: What do you feed them?
Them: Mostly canned foods, like Alpo or Purina. They like the soft foods better than the dry, so that's what I give them.
Me: So you're saying you feed your pets meat?
Them: I guess so, that's what they like.
Me: So then it's okay to kill other animals for food?
Them: No, killing animals is cruel for any reason!
Me: But you just said you feed meat to your pets.
Them: --silence--
Me: It seems to me if you feed meat to your pets then you're advocating the killing of animals for food.
Them: That's different though!
Me: How so? You already said that killing animals for any reason is cruel.
Them: Umm, uhh, well you see, uhh.. dogs and cats are omnivorous and need meat in their diet.
Me: Actually most dogs and cats are carnivorous by nature and are forced omnivorous diets when domesticated, but you bring up a good point. Humans have always been omnivorous for all of recorded history, and you're trying to force vegetarianism on people saying it's ethical, while saying that it's wrong to force vegetarianism on animals. Seems a little bit hypocritical don't you think?
Them: It's would be unethical to force animals to eat a diet un-natural to them!
Me: Isn't that exactly what you're trying to force on people though?
Them: Well, yes, but...
Me: Look, you said earlier that it's wrong to kill animals for any reason. Then you said it's okay to kill animals to feed other animals. Which is it, either killing for food is right or wrong, which side of the line are standing on?
Them: --silence--
Me: That's okay, your saying nothing is answer enough.
Read the rest.
...And yes, he's going on my blogroll whenever I get around to updating afgain.
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