The Pied Piper of Hamactor – Conclusion: The Great Rat Session
One day the children woke up, and their parents were all gone. “Where are they!” they cried as one. “They’ve left for the sunny land of Floree, duh!” said Owl. “They got sick of the rats and the axes, and decided to let you deal with them!” And everywhere the children looked, there were rats – in the storeroom, in the armory, in the gardens, in the workshop, in the alchemy lab, in the schoolhouse. “Where are we ever going to get the axes we need to kill these rats?” And so it happened that Stocmun’s curse came true. The children hated their parents for the blight they had imposed on their lives. “How could they have done this to us!” they said. “What were they thinking?” Town councils were held that were so exclusively focused on the rat problem that they came to be called Rat Sessions. The children grew increasingly angry with each new Rat Session, until during the Great Rat Session the children resolved to invade Floree to get axes from their parents. The former townspeople of Hamactor were pulled from the lives of leisure, and as a sign of humiliation were forced to endlessly repeat the ancient, cryptic chant of servitude, “Yew-Won-Fur-Eyes-Wiz-At?” And gone from their lives forever was Laugher, the Pied Piper of Hamactor.
03.03.05 @ 08:08 PM EDT [link]

The Pied Piper of Hamactor – Part 2: TooYoo’s Axe Cuts
While life was definitely better without the rats, the townspeople were quickly getting used to their new prosperity and couldn’t abide the thought of sacrificing any of it to pay Laugher. He was eventually driven out of the town by the soothsayer guild. What the townspeople didn’t understand was that the only real effect of Laugher’s music was to drive the rats to reproduce at an ever increasing rate. Jorjee, who took over as mayor after Ronee retired, was concerned enough about the growing population of rats outside of town to ask the people for axes to kill the rats, but this made the people angry because they had read on his lips a promise of no new axes. Thus Bilee, one of Jimee’s clan, became the mayor. His approach was to lead expeditions to collect the rats and lock them up in a big box. This started to work, and the townspeople began to hope that the rat problem was solved once and for all. Unfortunately, when it came time for Bilee to retire, his apprentice, Woodee, called Owl, was overheard babbling about the box that Bilee had used to lock up the rats. Thus the townspeople instead elected TooYoo, Jorjee’s son, whose praise for Laugher caused the townspeople to fondly remember Ronee and his wizard. Soon the strains of Laugher’s music were again wafting through the town, but this time the rats didn’t flee. Indeed, not only did the population of rats up the river start to grow again, but the rats locked up in the box soon exploded out of it. The townspeople started to get uneasy, but they still trusted TooYoo, whose folksy ways reminded them of their beloved Ronee. They allowed TooYoo to let Laugher keep playing. The result was a terrible tragedy. The more Laugher played, the more the rat population exploded. And no longer were the rats content to stay up the river where they had been. When some of them saw that their fellows had escaped from the locked box, they started joining them back in Hamactor. “Don’t worry, axe cuts will kill them!” shouted TooYoo, but the more axe cuts they took, the more the rats advanced, slowly but surely.
Next - Conclusion: The Great Rat Session
03.02.05 @ 07:56 PM EDT [link]

The Pied Piper of Hamactor – Part 1: Stocmun’s Curse
Once upon a time in the foggy village of Hamactor, on the banks of the Patomybac River, the townspeople were sore distressed. “Rats are eating our economy,” they said. “What are we to do?” Mayor Jimee gave Sunday night sermons blaming Prince Saudee for the malaise, but to no avail. The cry rose up, “Is there no way to drive the rats away so that we can again be prosperous?” With a crash the door to the Hamactor Theater flew open, and out stepped Ronee, the most beloved of the Hamactors. “I know an enchanted piper, Laugher the soothsayer, who can drive the Rats away!” The townspeople, interested but cautious, asked “But how could we pay him? The rats have eaten all of our goods!” Ronee, with a twinkle in his eye, said, “That’s the beauty of Laugher’s wisdom. Without the rats, there will be an explosion of wealth, and we can pay him and still have plenty left over.” The townspeople were greatly excited that there could be some much gain with no pain. Jimee cried out “Don’t listen to him! It’s all an act!” But when Ronee, in his folksy, lovable manner, said, “There you go again!” the townspeople rose up and acclaimed Ronee the new Mayor of Hamactor. Being the great communicator that he was, Ronee soon had a message to Laugher, who lived across the river in the village of Suplai. The townspeople gathered by the Patomybac to watch as Laugher arrived with great fanfare from the Suplai side of the river. Laugher’s voice echoed across the square, “Let me work my Suplai Side magic and there will be prosperity for all! You’ll be able to pay me and still have more money than you have now!” Ronee beamed with pride at the hope he had brought to his people, but the moment was spoiled when a gruff voice was heard from behind his robes. It was the evil dwarf Stocmun, who shouted, “If you listen to Laugher you’ll be cursed! He’ll steal the love of your children!” “Silence Stocmun!” cried Ronee, and pulled a magic ray gun from his belt. Stocmun was instantly struck mute! The townspeople were so impressed that they nicknamed him “Ray Gun” and honored him by giving all of his descendants priority use of Hamactor’s dock on the Patomybac, which came to be called Ronee “Ray Gun” Heir Port. With the morning in Hamactor Laugher’s music started wafting across the town, and soon the rats were seen to be moving out. Jimee’s clan shouted “they were starting to leave anyway!” but nobody was listening. And with the rats gone, it was time to pay the piper.
Next - Part 2: TooYoo’s Axe Cuts.
03.01.05 @ 07:58 PM EDT [link]

SherWright Scoop: The Next Swifty Ad
I’m guessing that the Swift Boat Veterans aren’t too pleased with their demonstration to their Right Wing donors that they’re not just a flash in the pan. They’ve got to be paranoid about the crowd who loaded up their coffers when they were doing damage to Kerry’s military record among veterans. The Swifties have to be worried that donors will start wondering whether their value was too closely tied to too narrow a situation. Their foray into sliming AARP just didn’t have the desired impact. It inspired a response, all right, but it wasn’t second thoughts about AARP as much as mystification over what the heck they were talking about and derision over disconnect with existing strongly-formed attitudes about AARP. They’re probably thinking they’ve got to go back to their roots - personal attacks that call into question a figure’s most pronounced accomplishments. The best example is their allegation that Kerry faked the circumstances behind his war wounds and resulting purple hearts. What would that strategy look like when applied to Social Security? Something like this: Graphic of a leering Franklin Roosevelt. Narrator: “Do you think you already know everything you need to about the liberal genius behind Social Security? Think again.” Graphic of Roosevelt apparently standing next to a soldier. Retired veteran: “I was Roosevelt’s military aide. I often had to bring him news about important military developments. I was one of the few conservatives in his liberal cocoon, and one of the very few that knew his secret: he was faking his disability to get the sympathy vote.” Retired medical technician: “I know the real story of Roosevelt’s ‘physicals.’ He laughed about how Lincoln was wrong about fooling all of the people all of the time! I know. I was there.” Graphic of standing Roosevelt with marines. Retired marine guard: “I used to look forward to him nodding as he passed me in the morning on the way to the Oval Office. Then one day I overheard him saying that Social Security was the key to getting Americans behind government control. That’s when it hit me – he was a communist! After that I requested a transfer to combat. I just couldn’t stand having anything to do with that traitor!” Graphic: Roosevelt joking with Stalin at Yalta. Narrator: “Social Security is falling apart for the same reasons as the country that inspired it, the Soviet Union. Free enterprise is the American Way, not government bureaucracy. Tell your congressman that you will vote for guaranteed personal accounts, not big-government lies.” Tagline: This message was produced by Swift Boat Retirees for Truth.
02.28.05 @ 08:06 PM EDT [link]

Moderate is a Verb
Some months back SherWright was referenced by one of the popular blog sites as an example of a site for moderate advocacy. We were apparently selected for this honor due to high Google rankings for terms involving political moderation. Apparently they didn’t look to hard at the content on SherWright.com, though. I’m guessing they didn’t even look at the home page. Why do I think that? Because they described the political inclinations of our site as “wishy-washy.” I wonder if Rush or George or Donald would think the content devoted to them is “wishy-washy.” All of this points up a dilemma for any advocate of moderation. There are just too many people out there that think moderate means “neutral” or “uncommitted” or even “apathetic.” Apparently my conception of the meaning of the word is different from that of the rest of humanity. The crux of the problem is that everybody seems to think that when you type the word “moderate” you’re typing the adjective. When I’m typing it, I mean an entirely different word, so different it’s even pronounced differently. For me, “moderate” is a verb. “To moderate” means “to lessen extremeness.” (I’m also noticing that the verb meaning is listed in the dictionary first, before the adjective or noun meanings). If you understand that moderate is a verb, you understand why I’m spending time and money on this site. Right wing extremists are wielding enormous power, and that power seems to be growing. I’m absolutely convinced that if this power continues to grow it will be a disaster not only for me and the people I care about but also all Americans, and indeed all of humanity. While the extent of the disaster that would result from decades more of unchecked extreme right wing power can’t be predicted, there’s an outside chance that it could take out civilization as we know it. In the face of this level of risk, moderation as an adjective has no place. Moderation as a verb is our best hope - we need to check the power of extremists, not by substituting other extremists, but by bringing US politics back to common sense reality. It’s clear to me that I face an important choice – a choice in how the word that serves as the foundation for this site is to be pronounced. Is it to be the long a of the verb or the short a of the noun or adjective? It can no longer be both – there is too great an opportunity for confusion. If this site is to truly stand up against extremism, each chance visitor must be crystal clear where it stands. There can be only one answer – SherWright.com exists to oppose the extreme right wing to the maximum extent any talent in my possession permits, using every tool and weapon they provide, be they logic, inspiration, or out and out mockery. Thus, I’ll be looking at every page of the site and purging any content that would imply that the extreme right wing does not deserve every bit of derision we can muster. That’s not a moderate act, but, in the face of risk to all of civilization, it is a moderating act.
02.27.05 @ 08:49 PM EDT [link]