Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ and

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Scooter Malfoy and the Death Eaters of the Beltway

Poor, poooooor Lewis Libby! Convicted like the common lying ratbag felon he is, as declared by a jury of his peers.

Thank all gods they weren’t his actual peers, actually. Those jurors are all far, far above him in such attributes as honor, honesty, integrity, uprightness and so many other inconvenient unfashionable non-Washington things.

He wasn’t fit to sit in the same courtroom with them. Or with anyone else outside the fences of Mordor, er, Washington D.C.

But my heartfelt cry is, When oh when will his dark masters Sauron and Voldemort be likewise brought to justice? When will the Jedi and the Order of the Phoenix join forces against Darth Cheney and Darth Rove and melt them into green slime? When will some brave and law-loving hobbit cast them both summarily and forever into the blazing Cracks of Doom? When will that bright shining day finally be upon us?

This conviction is not NEARLY enough (and of course there will be a freakin’ appeal). I want more!

I want to see the tide of just and deserved wrath inexorably rise to engulf RoboRove and then move on to cover Dick-in-Chief like a tsunami of Drano!
I want searing brilliant justice to enfold them both in the Burning Burrito Wrap of Righteous Punishment!
I want the terrible swift sword of divine retribution to do a Benihana on their sorry asses!
They can’t be purified, they’re too far gone into the Dark Side for that; but they can at least be isolated so that their contagion does not infect any more souls, and they can at last be made to pay.

I love it. It’s as if Chimpy McFlightsuit, unelected president of the United States, is finally, FINALLY being righteously Montresor’ed up behind the bricks of his own richly deserved fate and earned karma. With more bricks fabricated of lies, lies, lies and damn lies falling on his empty, eggshell-like head.

I lift a glass of Amontillado in toast to you, o noble jurors! It’s a start. For the love of God, indeed.


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