Yes, these are dire political times. Many who optimistically hoped for real change have spent nearly five years under the cold downpour of political reality. Here at CounterPunch we’ve always aimed to tell it like it is, without illusions or despair. That’s why so many of you have found a refuge at CounterPunch and made us your homepage. You tell us that you love CounterPunch because the quality of the writing you find here in the original articles we offer every day and because we never flinch under fire. We appreciate the support and are prepared for the fierce battles to come.
Unlike other outfits, we don’t hit you up for money every month … or even every quarter. We ask only once a year. But when we ask, we mean it.
CounterPunch’s website is supported almost entirely by subscribers to the print edition of our magazine. We aren’t on the receiving end of six-figure grants from big foundations. George Soros doesn’t have us on retainer. We don’t sell tickets on cruise liners. We don’t clog our site with deceptive corporate ads.
The continued existence of CounterPunch depends solely on the support and dedication of our readers. We know there are a lot of you. We get thousands of emails from you every day. Our website receives millions of hits and nearly 100,000 readers each day. And we don’t charge you a dime.
Please, use our brand new secure shopping cart to make a tax-deductible donation to CounterPunch today or purchase a subscription our monthly magazine and a gift sub for someone or one of our explosive books, including the ground-breaking Killing Trayvons. Show a little affection for subversion: consider an automated monthly donation. (We accept checks, credit cards, PayPal and cold-hard cash….)
To contribute by phone you can call Becky or Deva toll free at: 1-800-840-3683
Thank you for your support,
Jeffrey, Joshua, Becky, Deva, and Nathaniel
CounterPunch PO Box 228, Petrolia, CA 95558
Kim Kardashian and the Fiscal Cliff
Celebrity hog, Kim Kardashian, startled the world on Sunday night by announcing that she is pregnant.
This news—of more interest to most Americans than the fiscal cliff—has surprised the nation because no Kardashian has ever been pregnant before (including Kim’s mother).
“I haven’t had any morning sickness,” Kim observed, implying that becoming a mother will be a snap. No problem. She’s going to love breast feeding, changing diapers and getting up in the middle of the night innumerable times. She’s going to love taking care of her child, not going out partying until the wee hours. She’s ecstatic about losing her shape, about her complexion losing its shine.
And just think, if the baby is a girl, Kim can dress her exactly like herself, enter her in baby beauty contests, have her incorporated and continue the franchise of vacuousness into the next generation. The baby—we’ll call her Kim, Jr.—will be able to emulate all of her mother’s amazing talents for grabbing attention, dominating the media, and living well as a role model for the millions and millions of her mother’s followers who would rather be Kim Kardashian than be themselves.
Though Kanye West, the alleged father, has already pontificated about the pregnancy (“Make some noise for the baby mama!”), Donald Trump was overheard whispering to Mitch McConnell, “It can’t have been that West creep. I can assure you about that.”
Others are convinced that Kim’s state—if true—is more likely the world’s second Immaculate Conception. If proven to be true (that Kim, Sr., is in fact a virgin) the bankable proceeds from the Kardashian franchise will be enormous, incalculable.
What a stupendous achievement this will be for her, adding to her many accomplishments as Rhodes Scholar, Nobel Prize winner, and high school graduate.
After Kim announced her pregnancy Sunday night on Twatter, the site crashed for several hours because of her billions of fans, hurrying to read the details immediately after they learned of this New Year’s miracle.
Charles R. Larson—CounterPunch’s resident curmudgeon—has been following Kim Kardashian’s astronomical career for several days.