My Fellow Americans,

It is with a great deal of humility that I carry out my patriotic duty to link to this post by Ken Houghton at Marginal Utility:

My Unity Party Ticket

Only once in several generations does an idea so right, so mind-bendingly appropriate, appear.

Ken’s post was an inspired response to Erin’s post at the Handbook:

If You Elect Me As The Next President Of The United States Of America

I’ll be setting up a PayPal account soon to accept donations, and a MySpace page to deal with the expected surge in grass-roots activism.

I’m sure that Erin can easily (oh, so very easily) be persuaded to release exclusive nude campaign pics to our supporters.

Thanking You in Advance for Your Money,

Vice-President Harper

Okay, this vid absolutely had to be instantly promoted to full post status. Click the pic.

From a comment by LDA that was obvoiusly the result of painstaking and brilliant research.

I’ve only seen two minutes of it so far, but there’s no way that it’s not going to be featured on EOB.

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EDIT: I just finished viewing the whole film. It is, unsurprisingly, a work of sustained genius.

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This is not a picture of me, though I’ve frequently been accused of looking much like that dude. I’m sure that people also often thought he was me.

Into the Wayback Machine again, Sherman. In the late Sixties, and for much of the Seventies, I was the Director of the Inlet Drug Crisis Center. Which means much less than you think it should. We were all a bunch of Goddam Hippies, and it was largely a title bestowed upon me so that I could deal with the straights who demanded hierarchy in organizations that they were contemplating giving money to.

Among other efforts, we often provided medical care at rock concerts. It was usually primitive stuff, with an aid station set up from superfluous furniture at the venue, some volunteers cruising the crowd in case somebody got into trouble, and a couple of nurses and maybe a doctor at the station. If somebody got too sick, we called an ambulance. As far as I know, we never lost anybody at one of those events.

Through much of the Seventies, the Hofheinz Pavilion at the University of Houston was a major venue for rock concerts.

We worked the Rolling Stones double-header on June 25, 1972 with a much larger crew than usual. It was boiling, hysterical chaos throughout, as were most of the Stones concerts on that tour. The cops were out of control, fearful of a riot, and violently harassing the kids.

Who were crazed in return. There were too many teeny-boppers of both genders, kids who by all rights shouldn’t have been allowed out without a parent in attendance. They didn’t know how to behave. There were speed-crazed gate-crashers. There were a lot of heavy drugs circulating, and overdoses, and group-vomiting, and freaking-out to be had. Read the Wiki in the link above to get a flavor of what I’m talking about. We worked hard that day and night, and it was scary.

Madness, pure and simple. Everything else aside, the crowd that night was the sort that gives a bad name to drug abuse.

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