Plain Speakin'

A Personal Message from Noam Chomsky

A most felicitous and gratuitous solicitation of salutation to you all.

I aspire to express gratitude to Mr. Poplar for letting me utilize his web location to pose this humble missive.

Much concentration is being paid to my recent perambulation to the Middle East and my contemporary vigorous endorsement of Hamas a covinous and thanatomaniacal organisation dedicated to the genocide of all homo-sapiens of Hebraic Semitic extraction.

People are curious as to why I, a masculine homo-sapiens of Hebraic-Semitic extraction, would aspire to endorse such an assemblage.

Well, to put it plainly...

As our artificially constructed chronological units have passed and I enter the realm of the superseptuagenarian my thought processes, long the object of not only suppalpation by admirers, but also supparasitation, have degenerated to the point where they most resemble a acanaceous grimgribber suffering from absinthism, and my statements have become most thalian to those who subject me to much and repeated jobation.

Or, as those salubrious and most subrisive rappers Cypress Hill put it, I'm insane in the membrane.

It's the only feasible elucidation.

A recent anacalypsis revealed to me that decades of appetent glorification by the capernoited echelons of the carminative political left have caused me to deblaterate on a variety of topics that are not only outside my chosen vocation of academic expertise, but completely beyond my ability to comprehend.

Why else would I repeatedly endorse such roinous rapscallions like Pol Pot, Saddam Hussein, Slobodan Milosevic, and now Hamas, while slandering liberal democracies as sanguinivorous thraldoms of the tetraskelion with antagonistic, verbose, and supernovalent language?

I have often considered taking leave of this field of endeavour and pursuing my interest in macromastic threpterophilia. However, when those temporal units come I simply remember how sybaritic I have become, my spizzerinctum, and how anything I attempt outside of pandering to the squalid prejudices of the left is greeted with a heady round of oscitancy.

So I guess I must remain in my self imposed realm of oneirataxia, becoming more and more suilline with speaking fees, and books royalties, my once venerated neural nucleus growing more and more rupestrian.

At least I blame it on George W. Bush.


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