Good old Lyndon...

This afternoon, on the escalator up from the boarding platform of the Downtown Berkeley BART station, I heard a chorus singing in perfect harmony, almost as if Christmas got misplaced by a month and a half or so. As I made it to the ticket machine level of the station I saw that the choir was in fact singing a clever little ditty about impeaching Mr. Bush, his guilt in mass genocide, etc. I started laughing uncontrollably, a state that was only aggravated when I noticed that this choir (they had a conductor and everything) were a bunch of LaRouche-ites. That's the best I've seen yet from their kind. I'm working on a scheme to pit the LaRouche cultists in gladitorial combat against the Scientologists who daily man the Powell St. BART stop in San Francisco offering free "Stress Tests" to passersby. Maybe I can reserve Memorial Stadium (which is about two doors down from my dorm, and the site of a tree-sitting encampment over the University's attempt to cut down a grove of adjacent oaks in order to build a new sports facility) and use the football field for the kind of violent, blood-filled ceremony our pigskin celebrities try to emulate, but only in expurgated mimickry.