Stephen Colbert, the alleged funnyman and host of The Colbert Report on Comedy Central, was invited to testify before Congress on Friday about how working as a migrant worker on farms isn’t as much fun as you’d think it would be and at the end of his talk he said that the workers (many of whom are illegal immigrants) deserve better treatment but throughout his testimony is was like he was cracking wise and not being serious enough kowtowing to Congress and what in God’s name is he up to anyway making our politicians look stupid because if he mocks them he mocks us for we are the people who elected those righteous people to be our people in Washington and what kind of sicko whackjob tries to make fools of the very people who represent we the people anyway?!
A very dangerous man, this Stephen Cobert, very dangerous indeed!
11 responses to “Colbert Topples Gov’t!”
You are the emperor of the run-on sentence, Patrick. Kudos and kowtows to you.
Thanks for the nice compliment that has made my day feel special which is good because quite frankly it started out pretty crappy since a project we were working on came in and didn’t look at all like what we thought it would so I was down about that and it was rainy this morning and what was it Karen Carpenter said about rainy days and Mondays and well you know where I’m headed here but I appreciate your kind words and your name which is like a favorite pet which just tickles me…
I don’t understand why Stephen Colbert, putatively a comedian, was invited to testify before Congress about the subject of migrant workers, unless Congress wanted to find out how comedians handle the migratory nature of their jobs, i.e., the non-stop one-night engagements most of them make hither and yon across the country early in their careers, which, when you think about it, is remarkably similar to campaigning for political office, or unless Congress wanted to add a little comic relief to their colossally important deliberations about one issue or another, most of those deliberations, you’ve probably noticed, usually interrupted by boisterous bipartisan bickering or frequent trips to the private confines of Congressional cloakrooms where who knows what goes on, unless it’s Congressional leaders counting votes they can count on for an upcoming bill or possibly determining who’s going to speak when on C-SPAN, though we all know that when a Congressman or Senator speaks on C-SPAN doesn’t really matter because everybody knows that only hard-core political junkies and insomniacs watch it, the latter only when there’s nothing on HBO or one of the other cable channel, which isn’t very often, to be honest, inasmuch as the cable channels offer their viewers a lot, particularly, it should be pointed out, Animal Planet.
If Patrick is the emperor of the run-on, where does that put Curvin?
Check and mate. Mr. Curvin, you are the king of the run on sentence, I am but a pawn to be taken. Great work.
Actually, it’s not much of a run-on sentence when you compare it to various sentences in the work of James Joyce, Don De Lillo and David Foster Wallace.
O.K., Mr. Modesty, but since those guys have YET to post comment to Lint, I crown ye King!
I cheated, and therefore all claims to run-on sentence superiority rightfully belong to you; I cheated by using commas, which may well have been what Nora Joyce had in mind when, according to literary lore, she supposedly asked her husband, “Why don’t you write something people can read?”, which would have been a good question inasmuch as the family’s larder was often as empty the one in the Joad’s household; I cheated with my use of commas, whereas you went comma-less, in true Joycean form, much as the master did when he wrote Molly Bloom’s earthy stream-of-consciousness soliloquy at the conclusion of “Ulysses,” the soliloquy a run-on sentence, a rush of ruminations and reveries, the power and musicality within the soliloquy dense on the printed page, so much so that it often fails to penetrate the skulls of bone-headed readers – until, every June 16th, they hear it read aloud by the incomparable Fionnula Flanagan during Bloomsday on Broadway at Symphony Space in New York or tune to WNYC (93.9 FM or wnyc.org).
I must hear that reading of Joyce and yes I did not lean on the comma which is like a prodigal son venturing from his parental semicolon as sometimes the comma gives eyeballs too much of a rest stop and the ability to take the mind for a walk and I’ll tell you what if I have me some eyeballs I’d like to drag them through some dense prose and make the buggers earn their keep because all too often they simply inspect eyelids at night and what kind of worthwhile job is that anyway where there’s so much to see and give the old gray matter some visual nourishment that it so desperately needs because the wrinkled mass gets awfully bored being couped-up in a claustrophobic skull cage and forced to randomly amble down various memory lanes which usually lead to no damn good as the memories have been altered or defective or toxic or tainted with bad blood and that just makes you angry for what appears to be no good reason when actuality you did it to yourself by letting your eyeballs get lazy by resting too often at various commas they’ve grazed upon and that’s all I’ll say on that subject except thanks for writing again Mr. Curvin!
Good sentence, again with no commas or semi-colons to serve as rest stops for the weary.
Got to make those lazy eyes work!