Time for another headline news update, with Barbie Anchorbabe. Our top story is, for some unearthly reason, anything at all but the massive oil spill in Mayflower, Arkansas which resulted from a rupture in Exxon’s tar sands oil pipeline.
The even bigger story is the way Exxon blocked media from accessing the scene, and the FAA allowing Exxon to prevent air traffic from passing over the scene. The most reprehensible part of that story is the reaction of the corporate media to Exxon’s Soviet behavior — to sheepishly shrug its shoulders, slinking away with its tail between its legs, returning to its glitzy studios to continue whining about the sequester, pimping the phony Korean war threat, and cheering itself hoarse for gay marriage (MSNBC, I’m looking at you).
These days — especially given Obummer’s willingness to gut Social Security and Medicare to appease the Rightists — nothing sets my internal alarms clanging quite like the sound of politicians, pundits and other Washington zombies uttering the words “Bipartisanship”, “Compromise” and “Grand Bargain”, because no matter how you slice ‘em, they all translate to one thing:
With that in mind, I present this set of three parody traffic warning signs, ideal for reproduction at large sizes, mounting on quarter-inch foam core, trimming and duct-taping to traffic sign poles around your neighborhood — especially if your neighborhood happens to be Capitol Hill in Washington, DC. Have at it, folks!
Oh say, can you see
on the bridge named for Key
where the “Aqua Team” marched,
and a bunch were arrested…!
It was bone cold, rainy, sloppy, and miserable only a day before the official beginning of spring — in other words, your typical mid-March morning in DC. It was also a morning full of coordinated disobedience actions across DC marking the first day of Iraq War v2.0. Our group, nicknamed “Aqua Team”, was given the plum job of mobbing aboard a Metro to Rosslyn and taking Key Bridge early during rush hour.
Things turned out quite nicely. All the color-nicknamed groups gathered for their rallies at designated points around DC, not knowing where they were headed until it was actually time to go — a brilliant piece of strategy which greatly reduced the chances of any snitches in the crowd getting the word ahead to the cops — in our case, it was a meetup at Eastern Market, right in my backyard, then onto an Orange Line all the way across town to Rosslyn, where hilarity ensued…