Pie-eyed Poster Pitt raises many glasses

New Year's Eve for William Rivers Pitt is like All You Can Eat Night at Golden Corral for Michael Moore: Just another night. Nothing special. You see, Pitt is known to bend the old elbow to all hours of the day and night in honor of, well, just about anything. The sun coming up in the morning. An overtime loss by the Boston Bruins. (Hey, it's one point.) Whatever. Any excuse will do.

But on New Year's Eve, when all the amateurs get in on the act, William will use the occasion to raise many a glass, in honor of every prog cause that will win him applause from his fellow DUmmies. Thus this THREAD by Mr. Pitt, "Tonight, I raise a glass to many upon many, and to many more again."

Leave it to Wee Willie, though, to stir up a hornet's nest, even when he's in "nice drunk" mode. As we shall see.

So let us now travel back in time to the year 2013--actually, to a mere 24 hour-hours ago--and let's hear from Willie and the Pour Boys, in Killian's Irish Red, while the commentary of your humble guest correspondent, Charles Henrickson, wondering how DUFU mascot Li'l Beaver rang in the New Year, is in the [brackets]:

Tonight, I raise a glass to many upon many, and to many more again.

[OK, gang, let's see if you can keep track of just how many glasses William ends up raising. Get out your abacus.]

I raise a glass to those who ran to the sound and the smoke and the screams and the blood on Boylston Street in Boston, to do what they could.

[By the way, William, where did YOU run to? That's right, in 2013 you ran to New Hampshire, abandoning the City of Boston, fleeing the Communistwealth of Taxachusetts, to escape to the lily-white woods and lower taxes of your neighbor to the north, and to move closer to Mumsy. How white of you.]

I raise a glass to those who survived, and to those who did not. I raise a glass to those with a hole in their life. . . .

[Three more glasses. Where does he put it all? I think Pitt must have a hole in his leg.]

I raise a glass to you who have gone to war. . . . To you, I raise a glass.

[Not sure, but I think that counts as one glass.]

I raise a glass to every man and woman who wants to work but cannot find employment or get assistance. . . .

[And to every man and woman who does not want to work but does get assistance--well, I think that covers most of DUmmieland, including Pitt.]

I raise a glass to you, and wish you a better year than the one you have endured.

[Will the Shill, I do not foresee a better year for your Democrat Party come this November.  In fact, the only thing you may be raising then is a white flag.]

I raise a glass to the healers, the helpers, the activists arrested trying to defend the right to vote. . . .

[VOTER VERIFIED PAPER BALLOTS! RAISE A GLASS FOR ANDY!]

the right not to be poisoned by a pipeline or a fracking field. . . .

[The right to pay $5.00 a gallon for gasoline. . . .]

the right to smoke a joint. . . .

[Weed Willie invokes a doobious right.]

I raise a glass to you who Occupies. . . .

[From the comfort of his Barcalounger, Slacktivist Will salutes the Occupests, even though he himself never could find the time to get out there and actually Occupy with them.]

I raise a glass to each and every man and woman who has fought for, and achieved, the right to marry whoever the damn hell they please.

["The damn hell." Sounds like a Freudian slip.]

I raise a glass to love in all of its forms. . . .

[To all Fifty Shades of Gay.]

I raise a glass to all those who wait behind the invisible bars . . .

[. . . while I go into all the visible bars.]

I raise a glass to the not-too-distant-future. . . .

[Insert obligatory "24 business hours" joke here.]

I raise a glass to those who have died before the barrel of a gun, to those who have been maimed by a gun, to those who have lost someone to a gun, and to those who fight every day to try and stop the bloody avalanche of death by gun. . . .

[What about those who fight to defend our constitutional right to keep and bear arms? Don't they get a glass raised to them? . . . {crickets} ]

I raise a glass to Truthout. . . . The organization I work for. . . .

["Work"??]

my gratitude at being able to participate in that is fathomless and bottomless.

[Since it makes me look like I'm not jobless.]

I raise a glass to you, DU, individually and collectively, to my online home for twelve years and counting.

[Will didn't have this line in his original post, but he must have figured, since he mentioned Truthout, he ought to mention the DUmp, or else the natives would get restless. Plus, it gave him a reason to raise another glass. What are we up to now? I've lost count.]

I raise a glass to you, America. . . .

[Except to all you rethuglicans and teabaggers out there in Jesusland. You can go suck an egg.]

I raise a glass to my wife, and to my daughter, and to my mother, and to my friends. . . .

["Friends"?? You has some?? Also, William, your daughter is, like, what, one year old? You want her to imbibe that young??]

without whom I would quite simply be lost.
[All that beer, it's easy to get lost, I imagine.]

I raise a glass, and hold you close, and wish for you the best of all possible New Years. With all of my love, William Rivers Pitt

[Awww, that's sweet, William. Back atcha. By the way, how many glasses exactly have you raised so far? Somewhere in the 40s, no?]

[And now let's hear from your fawning admirers . . .]

You've said it all!

[A polite way of saying Pitt goes on and on and on. . . .]

That's a wonderful post! Hear, hear!

[It's a wonderful laff! Har, har!]

I second the toast!

[All in favor, raise your ninth glass.]

Happy New Year, Mr. Pitt. . . .

[And many hoppy returns.]

That's a lot of glasses.

[Hee! Hee! And I raise a glass to you, DUmmie Common Sense Party! Are you keeping score at home?]

Aw, sh*t Will.

[I think Will will need to tend to another bodily function first.]

raising my glass to you William my sweet

[And THAT'S what this post by Pitt is really all about, i.e., garnering applause and praise for Mr. Pitt. Whatever Will posts, whenever he posts, it's always about Will.]

I raise a glass to all our relatives, friends and pets that are no longer here.

[Like DUmmie DainBramaged. Why is he no longer here? Where's he been hiding these past four months? He seems just a remote memory. Hmmm. . . .]

sniff, sniff

[Is that you, Nadin?]

and a glass please for the women stranded with no clinic access. Forced to bear children because fake-religion zealots have taken control of many red state governments. Why did you forget them? . . . It's good to be inclusive, so please stop forgetting about half of the people.

[Ruh roh. DUmmie BlancheSplanchnik is not pleased with Mr. Pitt. Careful, Blanche, remember what William the Conqueror did to DUmmie bobbolink: Slapped her down so fast it made her head spin in the back of her Buick. Willie likes to wage his own War on Women.]

Next year, you write the toast.

[Oooh, burn! Way to go, Will! Stand your ground! Don't let any female of the species push you around! You probably get enough of that at home.]

I'm sorry.....did I offend? You sound mad. . . .

[U mad bro?]

Offended? I'm not the one tearing up a perfectly civil thread.

[That would be YOU, lady! Why don't you shut your piehole?]

I dashed this off in a few minutes.

[Yeah, right, Will. You can't write your grocery list in less than an hour.]

My apologies if every single category of people who struggled in 2013 was inadvertently not included. The toast would have been longer than Lent.

[Longer than a sealed indictment.]

Like I said, feel free to write your own. Happy New Year.

[In other words, BUZZ OFF! Definitely out of "nice drunk" mode now.]

you sound mad.

[Blanche, I think you're on to something.]

You are certainly allowed to disagree and be pissed at me.

[After 47 beers, Pitt is just pissed, period.]

See my edit

[Wha--WHAA??? Don't tell me, Will, you BACKED DOWN? You backed down to a woman?  What is WITH you, man??]

[Yes, friends, William pulled another Self-Recanted Evening. He bowed to Blanche and put in a paragraph about the gals, as follows . . .]

I raise a glass to every woman everywhere who pushed back against trans-vaginal ultrasounds . . . the Bronze-Age morality of modern white men. . . .

[Blah, blah, blah. A "protect your lady parts from those mean rethuglicans" paragraph. You're pandering, Will, you're pandering. Bowing to pressure, that's not like you. . . . Wait a minute. It is.]

thank you!!

[Blanche approves.]

(((hug))) Thanks for the proper poke.

[Will is always up for a hug and a poke.]

This needs to go viral.

[So tempting. But no.]

Will, this may be the best thing you've ever written.

[Damning with faint prose.]

And I raise a glass to you, WilliamPitt...For this great toast and for all your wonderful posts.

[Pitt's a Post Toastee!]

I raise my glass to William Rivers Pitt. . . .

[Everybody's sauced now.]

Raising my glass of iced tea. . . .

[LOUSY ICED TEABAGGER!!!]

You gonna get sloppy drunk tonight, my friend!

[So what's new?]

Oh! Mr. Pitt - Can you turn a phrase!

[Answer: No, not really. This Pitt post was a parade example of a hackneyed DUmmieland device, namely, parallel-construction prolixity: "I raise a glass," "I raise a glass," "I raise a glass," ad nauseam (literally).]

Let us raise a glass tonight to William Rivers Pitt. . . .

[The goal has been reached.]