Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Two roads diverged in the hood

First of all, a warm, wide-shanking welcome to Aaron, my oldest brother, for chiming in - we've been waiting too long, but it feels oh so good to have him along for the ride.

Second order of business: we are finalizing a t-shirt design. I have my own in mind (which, to be honest, will be difficult, if not downright impossible, to overturn), but I'm welcoming any suggestions, especially the preposterous ones that are likely the only responses I'll get. My idea so far is to have a gray shirt with "it could be wirsing" in baby blue across the front, with 2032 right below it, printed over a wavy flag. That always looks so nice. On the back, in red lettering across the top, "we aren't the tide of the future. we're the moon." Then, below that, an image of the moon. Tony found a good one a while back.

We can also do several styles to accommodate different tastes. Any other ideas?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Brother in arms

Greetings all -

As Karl's brother, I'd like to pledge my enthusiastic support for his nascent campaign. What do I bring to the table? Well, among other things, the ability to consistently miss a soccer goal from close range, deadly accuracy with malted milk balls, and an unusual fondness for mermaids...


Thursday, September 21, 2006

Congratulations ...

... to Mike Moats for his work on the Deval Patrick campaign so far. This past Tuesday, Patrick won convincingly in the Democratic Primary for the Massachusett's governorship. Mike's role in this accomplishment may not easily be quantified - who's counting, anyway? - but he's now a proven winner. It Could Be Wirsing has needed some street cred for a while now. Well, folks, Mike's cooked up a fine-looking turkey of legitimacy. Mmmm, it smells awfully good.

We salute you, Mike. Our future is in your able hands.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


Democrats Debate Tonight
7:00 PM on NECN. Check your local listings.


Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Moon Beckons

I was sitting here at work, twiddling my restless opposables and remembering past years as a champion thumb-war wrestler, when fresh visions of sugar plums danced before me: we are now officially in this for the long haul, Team Wirsing. Which is fortunate, because as we approach the third marvelous month of our campaign, aborting it won't be legal much longer. So look at us and beam as a proud parent might - we are a fully-formed baby, legs and arms twitching to the sound of electoral success, eyes peaking at a horizon of political prowess, infant stomach growling with hunger for something more substantive than the pre-digested hand-me-downs of a mother country long since incapable of serving its citizens a decent meal.

No longer do we have to wait for a new tide of fortune. Our fate, after all, does no biding. It likes not the lolling sit-back of finger-crossers and idle dreamers. It cares even less for the raunchy vomit of empty promises of a better world to come. No, our fate accepts only the delicate fingers of thinkers who would mold this play-doh nation into a model to behold. And those hands, those soft, feeling, caressing hands, belong to us. Yes, look at them. I see you doing it. Look at those long fingers aching for the touch of change, the pinch of new hopes and prosperity. They are yours, and they are indeed fantastic. What can't you do with 10 fingers?

Now clench those lovely fists. Feel their power, their tightness, their crushing confidence. Then remember: we are the moon (you may recall all the effort I put into making the damn thing) of the future. We do the pulling, the planning, the planting, the plotting. We don't recline, my friends, until we're watching our careers played back to us on t.v. as number 1 on the future celebrated PBS series, "Greatest Administrations of All Time." By then, of course, we'll deserve a little rest.

Pipe-dreams are for smokers. Inhale a little of us instead and feel the real burning stench of possibility in your lungs.

It could be us

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Our Man in Washington

Dear Team Wirsing,

After reading this blog, my friend Joe said "Awesome...great website." And Joe works in Washington DC, so I believe we have a brand new ally for storming the White House in 2032. As you can see, Joe has already infiltrated North Korea. And he doesn't even look Korean! Now that's what I call an inside man.

Blow your mighty conch, Karl. Our team is growing.