Thursday, August 28, 2008

SNRM: Oh, The Adjectives!


This week, our hero dissects the Denver Democratic donvention... uh, Convention, and tells you why, even as a proud loony lefty liberal whose ideology takes more left turns than a Nascar race, he can't quite find it in his bleeding heart to embrace Obama. Also on the agenda, a look at Obama's VP pick Joe Biden, his ties to Wales' lest irritating export Neil Kinnock, and why "teh meeja" aren't giving him a fair shake.

What ties McCain's now-famous confusion over how many houses he has to Spike's 4-year-old pair of Chuck Taylor's? Why can't our hero get into the Olympics, why does the British team's imminent titling in the New Year's honours list "twang a bum note" on his banjo, and with what would NBC interrupt coverage of the end of the world?

Our hero will tell you what connects Beijing to 'Auld Lang Syne', why he's not proud of the guy who lives two doors down, and makes a terribly, terribly unfair comment about cheerleaders.

Keep in touch! Send all your comments to the usual address, or - if you happen to be in the US (or you have a great long distance plan) call the comment line at 206-339-9410. (Add a 001 if you're calling from the UK, where you swallow all long distance charges!)

Don't forget to visit and join the Facebook group.

First aired on Radio Six International, Wednesday August 27th.


Chris James said...

Hey, at least he didn't rip off a Michael Foot speech.

aoc gold said...

The Sea


The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea!

The blue, the fresh, the ever free!

Without a mark, without a bound,

It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round;

It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;

Or like a cradled creature lies.

I'm on the Sea! I'm on the Sea!

I am where I would ever be;

With the blue above, and the blue below,

And silence wheresoe'er I go;

If a storm should come and awake the deep,

What matter? I shall ride and sleep.


I love (oh! how I love) to ride

On the fierce foaming bursting tide,

When every mad wave drowns the moon,

Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,

And tells how goes the world below,

And why the south-west blasts do blow.

I never was on the dull tame shore

but I lov'd the great Sea more and more,

And backwards flew to her billowy breast,

Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest;

And mother she was, and is to me;

For I was born on the open Sea!

~~~by aoc powerlevewling

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