MOTUS A.D.: Republicans: On A Train Bound For Nowhere

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Republicans: On A Train Bound For Nowhere

Little Mo just returned from a dangerous undercover mission: he was the pool mole spying on last night’s super-secret meeting between John Boehner, Mitch McConnell and Harry Reid. To avoid the regular LSM pool press, Bone-Man and Mitch took the Metro to the meeting, riding in a “private” car on the BLUE line, running from Largo Town Center (on the Right) to Franconia-Springfield (on the Left).

Click pic to embiggen

It was a pretty emotional train ride. Here’s Little Mo’s report, set to traveling music hopefully for your enjoyment:

As Boehner reached for another Marlboro, the door between cars opened and a shadowy figure,wearing a Stetson, slowly walked in past the security guards. Stunned, they sat in silence as the man sat down in the seat across from them and stared out the window...

“The Gambler”: Kenny Rogers

On a warm summer's eve
On a train bound for nowhere

We met up with the gambler

We were all too tired to sleep

So we took turns a-starin'
Out the window at the darkness

North v South Korea at night: cursing the darkness

The boredom overtook us, he began to speak

He said, "Son, I've made a life
Out of readin' people's faces

Knowin' what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes

So if you don't mind my sayin'
I see you think you're out of aces

For a taste of your whiskey
I'll give you some advice"

So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his faced lost all expression
He said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy

Brandenburg Gate: Calling them out

You gotta learn to play it right

You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away

Know when to run

You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table

Especially when you’re holding all the chips

There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done

Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away

And knowin' what to keep

'Cause every hand's a winner

And every hand's a loser

Your tax dollars at work

And the best that you can hope for
Is the promise you must keep"

And when he finished speakin'
He turned back toward the window
Crushed out his cigarette
And faded off to sleep

And somewhere in the darkness
The gambler he broke even

And in his final words
I found an ace that I could keep

You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away

And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table

There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done
You've got to know when to hold 'em
(When to hold 'em)
Know when to fold 'em
(When to fold 'em)
Know when to walk away
And know when to run

You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done

You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done

Painting by: Bill Hampton