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August 31, 2005
George Bush is Stealing My Oil!
According to modern leftist dogma, the whole reason we went to Iraq is to steal oil. Yet oil's going for nearly $70 a barrel these days.
Since it's obvious that he didn't sell it on the open market, what did W do with all that stolen oil?
* Fixed that sticky door hinge on Air Force One.
* Needed supplies for the "Oil-Wrestle Condi" contest.
* Keeps it in his personal refinery so that he has enough gas to drive his International CXT across town if he wants to.
* Dumped it in Boston Harbor as a protest against England's "Texas Tea Tax".
* He's reverse-engineering it to make an army of dinosaurs.
* Sea otters have become tragically non-flammable in recent years. Trend now reversed.
* It's still sitting in Iraq, because Bush is having trouble getting blood for it.
* Bush hopes that if he keeps enough oil for himself, his monkey-faced daughters will grow up to be as pretty as Elly May.
* It's even possible that he didn't steal the oil. Maybe it's just that there are no barrels left to put the oil in because Bush had them made into steelpan drums which he's giving away to boost his poll numbers in the Caribbean-American community.
* However, based on recently acquired satellite images, I'd have to say that it's pretty obvious that he's just hiding it in and around the White House.
BONUS FUN GAME: How many barrels of George Bush's stolen oil can you find in this picture?
Cindy Sheehan is a stupid moron.
There, I said it. No more of this "let's keep in mind her son's sacrifice", "let's keep in mind her right to protest", "let's keep in mind that she is being taken advantage by special interest groups". Sheehan's recent indications that she plans to take her loon-fest on the road and set up permanent residence in Washington D.C. officially ends her grace period. She needs to be treated exactly like Michael Moore, Howard Dean, Ted Kennedy, and the rest of the left-wing loonies. In other words, we must aggressively expose her flawed logic and whacked-out ideas to combat the MSMs insatiable appetite for soundbytes (the less credible the better) that criticize the Bush administration and its policies in Iraq.
Cindy Sheehan is a complete whack-job, and not a very intelligent one at that, as anyone who has heard her interviews or read her blog posts can attest. Am I engaging in name-calling? You bet, but one need only go to her latest blog post to find evidence for that characterization. I suggest you go read it at http://www.afterdowningstreet.org/?q=node/2438, because the MSM certainly isn't going to report on it. In her post, entitled "It Was the Oil Stupid", she criticizes President Bush for having the nerve to want to prevent terrorists from setting up training bases in Iraq and seizing oil to fund their activities. Far worse, however, she gloms on to the hurricane Katrina tragedy to make political hay. Incredibly, she attributes the damage caused by Katrina to President Bush's environmental policies and blames Halliburton from depriving the treasury of funds to repair its aftereffects. New Orleans is under water, the Gulf coast is devastated, they haven't even plucked all the bodies out of the water yet, and this idiot tries to insert herself into the tragedy to score points with her left-wing followers? Enough is enough. Cindy is free to put on a little tu tu and dance on her son's grave all she wants, but I'm tired of hearing about it and the ridiculous notion that this moonbat has anything intelligent to add to the Iraq discussion.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 21 - Smile
* * * *
"Are you all right?"
"I didn't even get a scratch."
Detective Thompson leaned back from the controls of her vehicle and looked me in the eyes. "I mean, you shot a woman point-blank in the face."
I shot a lot of people. Seemed to me it was sexist that I would be expected to feel more guilty about killing a woman than killing a man. Apparently Blondie wasn't a feminist, so it was time for me to tread carefully. That meant saying as little as possible. "She was about to shoot me; I try not to think about it." I then leaned back against my seat and closed my eyes.
The Detective was not about to let me off that easy. "That was quite some shooting, though; I've never seen anyone use two guns at once… outside of movies."
Translation: Why can some cop on some backwater planet shoot like that? I regaled her of how I spent years mastering "point shooting" - shooting without using the gun’s sights to aim - until I could fire quickly and accurately with both hands. I even added a little spiel about how the small amount of time saved by having a gun in my left hand to shoot at someone to my left could mean the difference between life and death. She just nodded the whole time.
Was she buying it? Probably not, as it seemed all the previous statements were just leading up to what she said next. "You seemed quite focused while in the fire fight - had quite an interesting expression on your face."
Oh no... was I smiling? I tend to smile slightly when I'm shooting - I know I do it; it’s just never usually an issue.
But did she even see my face while I was shooting? Or was she just acting like she knew something to see my reaction?
This woman was making me paranoid. It was just getting too mentally taxing; such effort, and she still seemed to suspect me of something. I vowed to start looking for a good ditch to dump her body in after I got what information I could from her. And I wanted that done soon. Yet another woman I'd be shooting point-blank in the face.
Had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy with her, though.
"I really don't feel like talking about this right now, Detective," I told her with annoyance - since I was quite annoyed.
"We've already been through enough together that you really should stop referring to me so formally... Officer."
I looked to her, and she had a cute smile as she looked back.
I really didn't care for that smile right now. "Should I call you 'Tommy-gun?'"
The smile didn't go away. "Friends call me Diane."
Well, am I your friend or your suspect, Diane?
I wasn't really angry at her, though. Now that this terrorist hunt was over, my mind was back to my main mission. Maybe I'd get some good information from her about Senator Gredler and why they know a hit is coming, but that still didn't change the feeling of unease I had about this job.
Was it because it looked to be a suicide mission? I wish the explanation was that simple, but I couldn't place my hesitation. This was about the most emotional I could ever remember being.
"Rico," Diane called out, her voice full of concern - real concern, "if something is the matter, you can tell me about it. It will be just between you and me."
"It's complicated," I volunteered for some reason. "Maybe I'll tell you about it later." Just before I kill you - if only out of curiosity of what your expression will be.
"Hopefully we can find out soon what's happened with stopping the plot at Roppola Plaza. You're a real hero, Rico. I'm sorry I put you in this situation, but you saved a lot of lives."
Sorta wished I could care. Yes, I had just used my powers of death-dealing to better the universe, but, whether I killed a sinner or a saint, it was all just a twitch of the finger in the end.
Our vehicle now landed exactly where no hitman ever wants to be: Police Headquarters.
All roads lead to dome
The City of Houston/Harris County finally found a use for that big boob-shaped thing by Reliant Stadium that gathers dust and eats taxpayer dollars ever since Bud Adams had a hissy fit and bugged out to Tennessee:
As water continued to rise in New Orleans today, Texas officials have worked out a plan to bring up to 23,000 refugees from the Superdome to Houston's Astrodome.
If I'm not blogging, It'll be because... um... I'll be in Chicago. Because my grandmother's turning 90 and the party's there.
But there's talk about volunteer efforts and maybe the company will get some folks together to lend a hand. They tend to do that sort of thing now and then. If so, I plan on being a part of that group when I get back.
It'll be far more interesting than anything I've seen in the dome over the years. Man, did the Stones suck there or what?
GG on RTR With AOS
Listen to it at Right Talk Radio till today's shows displace it.
I haven't been able to listen to it. So do me a favor, listen and tell me what was said.
Update: Ok, finally was able to listen, believe it or not he sorta slams the other HuffPo bloviators.
We Don't Have Time to Harp on the International Community
FOX and Friends kept going on and on about how they doubt we'll see aid from the international community, and I've heard other conservatives say the same.
I'm sorry, but this is nothing but a cheap shot.
There are some culture differences between America and other countries in regard to charity (when the government provides everything, you get used to waiting for the government to help your neighbor), but, come on! We're the richest nation in the world by far and perfectly capable of helping our own. If a fire breaks out in Bill Gates house, you wouldn't expect a fund raiser to be started for him in the ghetto? Some charitable gestures from other nations would be nice (and I'm sure some will come), but, as bad as a disaster hits us here, there are many other countries much more in need of charity than us.
That said, I'm waiting for my company to announce matching funds in charitable contributions as they have with previous disaster (the tsunami was the last one).
Blender has a large list of charities kept at the top of his page. Remember, it ain't actually charity unless you're hesitant to give that much.
The Running of the Shi'ites
Over 600 Iraqi Shi'ites were killed in a stampede after someone shouted "SUICIDE BOMBER!"
Witnesses said the stampede started after someone screamed that a suicide bomber was in the crowd of pilgrims heading to the Kadhimiya mosque in northern Baghdad.
Kinda makes Pamplona seem like child's play in comparison, eh?
Woe! I Lived!
Well, I had no power for a day and a half.
And in the end we lived and came out pretty well compared to many who lost all their worldy possessions and others who got cast into eternity. I'll write more about it when I get my thoughts together.
Oh and thanks for the kind words and prayers. I figured somebody would notice me missing from the blog. Just not so many.
August 30, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 20 - Situation Under Control
Jumping so that you land on a staircase is quite problematic. A stairway, of course, is made from numerous flat surfaces, but land on it stretched out and you hit nothing but edges. Luckily, when I leapt into the basement, another terrorist was heading up. I plowed into him and he cushioned my fall to his own detriment. He also caused his friends to hesitate in firing at me, something I used to my advantage as I rolled off the stairway to my feet.
I fired rapidly as I charged forward, not having time to worry about leaving people alive for Tommy's sake. I few shots rang off in my direction, but these terrorists were of the "pull the trigger rapidly and pray" school and weren't even close to hitting me. Four were soon dead and burned enough to smell like pork, and I spotted a fifth frantically removing a disk from a computer. Something familiar was on screen and then quickly disappeared. The alien terrorist then tried to spin around and shoot me, but I was on him and smashed him in the face. He fell to the ground and his gun skid along the floor away from him.
One was left running to a panel on the back of the room. He had flipped it open, but I shot him in the leg dropping him to the ground. I then had a second to see a wire coming out of the panel and then spidering out to numerous explosive charges. The wounded man reached up for the panel, but this time I shot the wire. The flicking of the switch by the terrorist achieved nothing.
I walked over to him and recognized the face. "Hey, Mohammed," I said cheerily just for the fun of it before I knocked him unconscious.
"Leave any alive?" Thompson asked from behind me, now at the bottom of the stairway. She just wasn't quick enough to enjoy that action.
"Alive, yes; conscious, no. We have Mohammed right here. That guy over there." I pointed to the one by the computer I had punched out. "And possibly the two by the stairs." I motioned to the one I knocked over lying on top of the one Zippy stunned. If they were alive, they probably had some bad concussions. "By the way, you’re welcome for me keeping you from being blown up. Now where's the cavalry?"
Thompson was looking at a computer that had been left on. "Outside waiting for the SWAT team." She stared carefully at the computer. "I think there's a strike about to take place at Roppola Plaza!" She got up and walked on to the stairway. "I need to get those cowards waiting outside in here; do you have everything secure down here, Rico?"
I laughed. "They weren't much of challenge for me when they were standing, Blondie."
"Don't call me that," she said as she headed up the stairway, her little Zippy robot flying along.
I put my guns away and quickly got to the terrorist I punched out by the computer. I got the disk from him; if it was what I thought, it could be a good ace up my sleeve for later on.
The alien terrorist was awake and looking at me. I smiled. "Let's keep this between you and me." I held up my empty hands and kicked his gun towards him.
The idiot grabbed it.
He had just got his finger through the trigger guard when I had drawn and put a hole through his head.
Tommy was back down the stairway in an instant, staring down at the dead alien clutching a gun. "What happened?"
"I thought he was unconscious!" I blurted out in a pitch perfect imitation of nervousness. It could only have been better acting if I could cause my heart to race. "Sorry... sorry..."
The two cops we had met earlier were now heading down the stairs with their guns drawn. They looked at the scene with shock. "You and the hero did this, Tommy-gun?" the female asked.
All me. She hadn't even fired a shot. "Just help me secure things down here," Thompson commanded, "We have another terrorist attack to prevent."
I could hear more sirens outside. The place would soon be quite crowded, and I put away my gun. This time, I was going to hold on to them, and the onus was on Detective Thompson to explain the armed involvement of a "civilian." Whether she could do that and keep her job or not, I was coming out of this a hero again.
All in all, it was a nice little shoot out, but bigger things were still to come before this job was over.
Maybe They'll Think THIS is Funny
A while back I was criticized by some leftists for not being funny, so I decided to see if I could learn their ways so that I could, perhaps, better appeal to their peculiar sense of humor.
So... what do leftists find funny?
Well, after I Google Image searched for pictures of Bush, I found...
Let me rephrase that... after I Google Image searched with "safe search" enabled, I found out that leftists are highly amused by crudely defaced pictures:
Ok, then I think they should get a pretty good laugh out of this Cindy Sheehan picture:
So, if I soak it in urine, do you think I could get a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts?
A couple from Itzstedt, Germany came home to discover a cat burglar had broken in and wrecked the place.
But this was no ordinary cat burglar...
The "cat burglar" had somehow crawled into the ground-floor of the apartment, broken window blinds, torn down drapes and trashed furniture.
I think Cadet Happy may be on to something... Anti-Cat Cat Burglar Security Systems!
If only Spacemonkey weren't missing in the storm, he could start building these things. Then Frank could market them, Sarah could model them, and we could demonstrate them on Nar-
Um... stuffed animal toys. Yeah, that's the ticket.
A Day in the Life: 08/30/05
Hi, it's Frank J. Now, when blogs started, most people just used them as online diaries. I've never done that, but I thought I might give it a shot. It could be instructive to some people to know what a day in the life of a Republican is like. So, here's my day so far:
I woke up this morning hating poor people - as always. Soon, I had my coffee and was reading the paper, dismayed once again that not enough brown-people in foreign countries are being killed. Doesn't anyone understand how important oil interests are for my portfolio and that blood must be spilled for it? I get so mad sometimes that I think the only way I could cheer up would be to kick an orphan.
I tried to take my mind off all that and ended up contemplating the contention that we Republicans have never worked an honest day in our lives. That is just so untrue. I mean, I count my money (I'd never let someone else do it), and that's honest work. Sure, the money was earned dishonestly and usually at the cost of the downtrodden, but I count it honestly as I would not lie about my financial situation to myself.
I decided that was enough philosophizing for one day and talked to SarahK about a good Republican hobby we could share together. My idea was we walk at night in the worst parts of town and kill whoever tries to mug us ala Death Wish. We'd get fresh air, some exercise from walking on foot, and some practical shooting experience. The only problem is we have to wait until October for the new Florida gun laws to come into effect which would make that activity perfectly legal.
To rest, I watched some news (FOX News, of course). It was nearly all hurricane coverage, but it was all about the plight of people and not about how this hurricane could affect my stocks. For a supposedly right-wing network, it could do better to cater to its audience.
Eventually, they broke from the hurricane coverage to some other news stories about an escaped monkey and Cindy Sheehan (not quite related). Cindy Sheehan has been a big concern for us neocons. I, like most neocons, am secretly Jewish and am trying to divert all of the U.S. government's funds to helping Israel and its Zionism. The entire Bush administration is actually Jewish too, except for the gullible born-again Christian Dubya himself. He's simply our dupe to have our bidding done. But, if Cindy Sheehan successfully gets another audience with Bush, she could tell him all about how the war in Iraq is all about Israel. We'll lose our dupe! Something has to be done about Cindy Sheehan, and I hear there are plans to steal her gardening hat which we have theorized to be the source of her power.
That's enough stress for one day; I could literally kill for a martini right now. Literally. Killing hardly ever leads to a martini, though.
Where's my butler? I need to send him to the store to get more vermouth. Can't go to the store myself as I might have to interact with commoners. Someone should really make special convenience store for rich Republicans like me where we can go shop on emergency occasions when we can't find our butler and not have to worry about running into common folk.
Where is that butler? He's never there when I need him.
I bet he's a Democrat.
Lesser-known Jewish Holidays
As a part of the new IMAO Diversity Program started by Spacemonkey (or was it Right Wing Duck cribbing it up using Spacemonkey's letterhead again?), I've been asked to provide a list of lesser-known Jewish holdiays.
So, here's the slate of lesser-known Jewish holdiays that shaped a young Laurence Simon into the wise and strong adult Laurence Simon you see here today (in addition to many boxes of Hostess Cupcakes, countless sixpacks of Miller Lite, and more prescriptions for Allegra than you can count on a millipede's feet).
Festival of Misery
Kvetching and Plotzing Day:
When two people meet on the street, the first person kvetches and the second person plotzes. Then they exchange insurance information and go their separate ways.
What a day Kvetching and Plotzing Day is!
NEW! Sarah K's "Blonded Me With Science" audio
As promised in the show notes of our latest IMAudiO production, Scott has produced and posted Sarah K's very funny "Blonded Me With Science" skit.
Listen live at:
Comments? We'd love to read them on our IMAudiO Fan Forum
August 29, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 19 - Sprees, Spending and Otherwise
I adjusted the mini-blasters under my jacket from being deeply concealed to being a quicker draw. They weren't as powerful as my normal guns, but they'd burn a nice little hole right through my targets. I then put a smile on my face and strolled into the store.
The clerk, a female human, eyed me suspiciously. There were three others - two human males and one alien male - in the store pretending to shop (I've pretended to shop before, and I know the difference between doing it well and doing it poorly) also eying me suspiciously. The way they gestured and positioned their hands, it was obvious all four were armed. It would be hard killing these four amateurs and making it any fun, but, at least, there was a basement full of terrorists most likely armed with fully-automatics to look forward to. That could be a challenge.
I walked up to the clerk. "Hello. I am interested in purchasing a Koran."
"We have it available in many different data formats," she said, making it obvious she was annoyed by my presence.
"Actually, I like something more tangible. Can I get it in book form?" The three others slowly moved a bit closer to me. I kept facing the clerk in an angle such that none were in my blind spot.
"The complete integrated Koran comes in a twelve volume set. It is quite expensive."
I chuckled. "Well, money shouldn't be an object when you're trying to be submissive to Allah."
"Do you have business here?" demanded one of the men in the store, no longer pretending to be a consumer.
I gave an expression of hurt feelings. "I'm a newly converted Muslim. Why, I just started to grow a beard - I've made half a day’s progress so far."
"Get out of here!" the man commanded.
"Fine. Can I at least get a gift for my nephew? Do you have a little electronic Mecha-Allah that walks around and its eyes light up?"
"We have nothing to do with that!" the clerk yelled, "Now get out!"
"Oh yeah, you're not supposed to depict Mecha-Allah, are you?" I noticed a small red spot on the ground. "Hey! Is that pigs' blood? Was my friend Mohammed through here spitting pigs' blood? He's so crazy!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," the clerk asserted, "Get out of here right now."
I looked to the door at the back of the shop. "He's probably back there; can I go check for him?"
The four stood in front of me and blocked my way, the males to my left and the clerk to my right. "Employees only!" the clerk yelled.
"GET OUT!" one man shouted, all of them looking ready to kill - ready, but not yet trying to kill.
I acted like I had a sudden revelation. "I know what's going on here! You have a terrorist cell down in the basement! I'm going to go out right now and telling everybody!"
One man finally went for his gun. I let him fully draw before I quickly drew my left hand gun and put a hole through his chest. That way, the gun clattered to his side as he fell and Tommy would know that I let them make the first move. Immediately following the first shot, I drew the right gun, shot the clerk through the head as my hand swept past her (she was about 1/16 as fast as she needed to be to outdraw me) and then fired one shot from each gun killing the last two, only one of whom had successfully drew his gun though he was still unable to get off a shot.
"We need some alive, Rico!" Tommy gritted through her teeth as she burst in, gun drawn.
Shooting people so that they live afterwards is not my specialty.
I was about to reach for the door to the basement, but Tommy grabbed me and threw me against the wall next to it. The door then burst open, and the terrorist was zapped by Zippy who hovered over head. There were a number of thuds as he fell down the stairs. I could then hear many voices, and something about "blowing up the building."
"No time to wait for backup, Blondie," I said as I leapt head-first down into the basement.
Everyone Loves to Check Out IMAO's Ads!
Remember to support IMAO's sponsors. Without the money they give me, I'd have to call the INS on Right Wing Duck (just kidding; the organization is called ICE now).
In the Patron spot is the United States of the Internet. It's an attempt to apply to the principles of the American Constitution to the internet and has a message board and blog along with it. It is your duty to check it out in exchange for free funny.
What funny, you ask? I'll have some later; don't rush me. What am I supposed to write about, anyway? I used up all my hurricane jokes last year (oy, don't remind me of that).
What's the worst thing about Hurricane Katrina and the possibility of New Orleans being flooded under dozens of feet of water?
Because New Orleans is below sea level and built on reclaimed saturated swampland, the dead are usually entombed in above-ground in vaults. A severe enough storm or flood will dislodge thousands upon thousands of bodies, thus causing havoc with the voter registration process.
Furthermore, rainslicker-clad correspondents may be injured or possibly killed in the mad crush to interview Rev. Al Sharpton demanding that the voting rights of these Corpse-Americans not be violated.
Unless he's still in Crawford, planting crosses with that crazy woman. Crazy, I tell you!
So, that's the worst thing about Katrina - messing with local politics. Well, that and the throngs of zombies wandering around, craving brains.
Thank goodness zombies can't swim.
Always Bet on Black
Did you know that coffee is the number one source of antioxidants? I don't know what an antioxidant is, but apparently it's good (and thus an oxidant is bad). So, all this time I've been drinking coffee, I've been extra super-smart.
I bet it's even better for you when you drink it black like I do. Cream and sugar I bet take away the antioxidant power, or, in the least, make your coffee gay.
So, as an informal survey, what do you drink in the morning? Is it coffee (if so, how do you take it?), Mountain Dew, some other beverage, or are you a "I don't need caffeine" weenie? Put your preference in the comments.
New IMAudiO: The Corrupting Influence
If you are stuck in the office on a dreary Monday and have a PC with speakers, you can listen to the latest IMAudiO production to brighten your day!
This IMAudiO production is about all of our corrupting influences... starting with the fact that you're listening to our show when you should be working on your office computer.
Download the IMAudiO at:
Comment on this audio in the IMAudiO Fan Forum at:
What's in the IMAudiO? Here is the rundown:
Funny stuff! Check it out and be sure to tell all your friends (especially if you happen to be friends with hotshots like Michelle Malkin, Glenn Reynolds, Rush Limbaugh, and Roger Ailes)
August 28, 2005
Fun Facts About Illinois: The Director's Cut
(NOTE: I mistakenly had this posted last week for about a day. If you missed Idaho, go here)
The version on the IMAO podcast (#13) was cut here & there for time & quality reasons.
My unsullied and divinely inspired artistic vision appears in the extended entry...
Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.
This week, we're stopping in the heartland of America to visit Illinois, so let's get started...
Illinois became the 21st state on December 3rd, 1818, and - except for Arkansas - is the only state that carries the death penalty for pronouncing the S at the end of the state's name.
Politically, Illinois is like 2 states in one. The Chicago area - which is urban and heavily Democratic - and the rest of the state, which is rural and sane.
Chicago politicians are easily identifiable by their colorful "Bribe me!" lapel pins.
During the Civil War, Illinois was bitterly divided between those who wanted black people to vote and those who wanted to restrict the franchise to white people and the dead.
10% of Illinois' economy is based on the production of various corn products. The other 90% consists of official "Just wait 'till next year!" logo Cubs merchandise.
Although Illinois borders both Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River, most citizens get their water from large, camel-like humps on their backs.
Every year, millions of Illinoisans head north to the Wisconsin Dells to spend their money on water parks, souveniers, and speeding tickets.
Illinois is currently experiencing rapid population growth because an Illinoisan's only natural predator is the Wisconsin State Highway Patrol.
Few people shop at the malls in Illinois due to the twin hazards of high sales taxes and recklessly-driving Blues musicians.
The first skyscraper was built in Chicago in 1895. When completed, it was 9 stories tall and was immediately destroyed by God for using non-union labor.
At least according to the Teamsters who witnessed the event.
Thanks to Illinois' strict gun control laws, you may wander about freely after dark without having to worry about being mugged by a law-abiding citizen.
Due to the extremely harsh winters in Illinois, natives of the state grow thick coats of fur to protect them from the elements, and are frequently clubbed to death by Alaskan tourists.
People from Chicago like to brag about their "Chicago-style" pizza, but it's really just regular pizza sprinkled with bits of people who hired non-union labor.
Springfield is the capitol of Illinois. While there, be sure to visit Lincoln's Tomb and Moe's Tavern.
The state dance of Illinois is the Square Dance.
Except in certain parts of Chicago, where it's the "I NEED CRACK!" jitterbug.
Chicago was setting for George Romero's movie "Night of the Voting Dead".
The Sears Tower in Chicago is the tallest building in North America and contains enough office space to hold a year's supply of Twinkies for Michael Moore.
The state tree of Illinois is the White Oak, which is just plain racist.
The state snack of Illinois is popcorn. MORE racism!
The first McDonald's restaurant opened in Des Plaines, Illinois in 1940 after the McDonald brothers perfected their technique for making thin, round patties out of rat turds and sawdust.
Early in the church's history, the Mormons settled in Nauvoo, Illinois, but moved to Utah after the Iroquois Indians gave them smallpox and stole their land.
During the Civil War, Illinois was home to the notorious Rock Island prison camp, where it's estimated that over 100,000 Confederate prisoners were either starved to death or denied access to Korans.
13% of Illinois' population is foreign-born. Mostly Irishmen who ran out of money while travelling to Idaho's annual Spud-Fest.
People from Chicago must pass a literacy test before they are allowed to vote, which consists of correctly identifying the letter "D".
It was the original French settlers who chose the White-Tailed Deer as the Illinois state animal. They looked upon it as a kindred spirit, since it appeared to be raising a white flag while fleeing at the first sign of danger.
Chicago is home to the world's largest public library. Sadly, not enough of the books have pictures to make it of any use to the Irish.
The city of Bloomington, Illinois consists of 60% women and 40% men. Even Frank J. could get lucky there.
If he weren't... you know... already attached.
SarahK's gonna kill me now, isn't she?
In 1999 the city of Kankakee, Illinois was voted "America's Worst Place to Live". It improved to "America's Best Place to Live" after the city implemented its "free breast implant" program.
That wraps up the Illinois edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week we'll be sneaking eastward across the border into Indiana.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go eat some popcorn because I'm a racist.
UPDATE 8-27-05: Per a reminder from the Humble Devil Dog of Random Firing of Neurons I should add this:
If you visit a state that borders Illinois, you may hear Illinois tourists referred to as "FIB's", which stands for Fine Illinois Brethren.
If you're FROM one of those border states, then you know I just lied to you.
[The complete e-book version of "Fun Facts About the 50 States" is now available at Amazon.com. If you don't have a Kindle, you can download free Kindle apps for your web browser, smartphone, computer, or tablet from Amazon.com]
August 27, 2005
Am I the Only One Who Didn't Know This?
This past year, I started watching Arrested Development with SarahK and found it to be the best sitcom on network TV (it almost demeans it to call it a sitcom). I found you really have to watch it in order, as it has little jokes that only make sense if you've seen the previous episodes.
Anyway, I had only seen the second season, and we just started watching it on DVD. When you put the first DVD in, there's an intro from Ron Howard where he admits he's the ever present narrator for the series (I always wondered who it was).
BTW, they don't bleep out the swearing on the DVD (or, at least not for the extended pilot; we're about to watch the second episode now).
August 26, 2005
Evil Glenn's Summer Camp
So I wandered into the IMAO break room for a cup of coffee to find the lovely and talented SarahK sitting there looking glum...
HARV: Mornin' Sarah. You're looking remarkably underweight today. Why so sad?
sarah: i was just thinking that the imao readers give us so much... we should do more to give back to the community... something charitable
HARV: Well, all the writers that Frank adopted have agreed to not take any money so that Frank J. can shower you with sparkly diamonds. That's sorta like charity.
sarah: i like diamonds! they're shiny and pretty! like the eyes of happy children! you should do something for children so that they look more like diamonds.
HARV: I already help children by beating them up and stealing their lunch money, thus forcing them to work harder to earn replacement money, which improves the economy. EVERYBODY wins!
sarah: ummmm.... maybe there's another way to help children. there's an ad here in the paper that says this summer camp is hiring counselors. i'll bet that would make kids happy. you should apply.
HARV: Well... it IS in Iowa, and I *do* need to do some research for that upcoming podcast...
sarah: great!... oh, and if you see frank on your way out, tell him my diamond collection needs polishing.
...so I went to Iowa, passed the interview by virtue of being able to fog a mirror, and soon found myself in the orientation room getting instructions from the leader of the camp - Glenn Reynolds...(continued in extended entry)
GLENN: Hello, teammates! Welcome to the Glenn Reynolds Super Happy Lucky Fun Dancing And Concentration Camp For Kids. As you know, I'm a big fan of communism, and one of my favorite commies, Hugo Chavez, was recently threatened with assassination by Pat Robertson. I thought I'd cheer him up by sending him a video of dozens of American children doing the robot dance, since NOTHING says "Yay! Communism!" like a good robot dance.
As counselors, your job will be to teach these kids how to dance. We're on a tight schedule, so if the kids start getting tired, just give 'em puppy shakes until they perk up.
Now hop to it, people!
...unfortunately, I was busy listening to the latest IMAO podcast & didn't catch everything he said, so...
HARV: All right kids, we're here to build robots for France, so... YOU!... [squints at nametag]... Timmy... you look the most like Jimmy Neutron... here's a box of toy light sabers. Grab your nerdy little friends & make robots out of these.
TIMMY: No problem, Mr. Harvey... say, what do you want these robots to do?
HARV: Well, they're going to France, so program them to engage in random acts of violence.
TIMMY: But Mr. Glenn said something about making them dance...
HARV: Huh?... oh... then give them guns so they can shoot at the Frenchman's feet. THAT'LL make 'em dance.
TIMMY: But I think Mr. Glenn said that the ROBOTS should dance.
HARV [high pitched mocking voice]: Mr. Glenn said! Mr. Glenn said!... FINE!... make them dancing robots... with guns!
TIMMY: But I can't make bullets out of plastic toys! I need gunpowder for that.
HARV [rolling eyes]: They are NOT paying me enough to put up with this cr... HERE! Here's some baseball bats! Just make it so they swing at those stupid surrender monkeys' legs!
TIMMY: So... what kind of dance should the robots do? Break? Ballroom? Tango? Waltz? Disco? Dirty?
HARV: I DON'T CARE! I'm trying to write Fun Facts About Iowa and I'm still twenty corn jokes short! Just go with that first one you said! Now leave me alone before I beat you up and take your lunch money!
...the night of the big dance videotaping arrived...
HARV [to self]: "now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick my ear". HA! Pure genius!
TIMMY: The robots are finished, Mr. Harvey. Can we please eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom now?
HARV: Huh?... uh... yeah, whatever. I think Reynolds said there were some guppy cakes or something in the mess hall. Just give me the remote control for the robots... Oh! AND your lunch money.
...I marched the robots up to the stage where Glenn Reynolds was demonstrating the choreography for the production...
HARV [glancing over keypad]: Let's see... AH! "Break"... There they go... uh oh... this doesn't look right... I think I need to find Timmy...
...later, in the mess hall...
HARV: Timmy, it's not that I don't appreciate all your hard work, but when I pressed "break", the robots all started smashing Evil... I mean MR.... Glenn's kneecaps with their baseball bat arms. Not that I mind, you understand, but I *am* a little confused.
TIMMY: Hmmm... let me see that remote... OH! *I* see!... just a typo in the program. It says "break danceR" instead of "break dance". Sorry about that.
HARV [tousling Timmy's hair]: Don't worry about it, ya little scamp. My work here is done. I'm going home. Thanks for all your help, Timmy.
TIMMY: Does that mean you're going to give me my lunch money back?
HARV: Don't push you luck, kid.
...a few days later, back at the IMAO break room, I bumped into SarahK again...
sarah: i heard you liberated an entire camp of innocent children while crippling glenn reynolds for life. now that's what i call giving back to the community! i'll bet those kids had the prettiest, shiniest eyes!
HARV: It went even better than I'd hoped. I finished Iowa, got $53 in change, plus some of the kids even gave up their cell phones. I smell an economic boom ahead.
sarah: any diamonds?
HARV: Nah. But I did get a gold tooth from this one kid who was a little slow reaching for his wallet... here, you can have it.
sarah: oo! it's pretty and shiny!
HARV: And the best part is that - with Reynolds being in the hospital and unable to blog - he's no longer number one in the Ecosystem. It's Michelle Malkin's blogosphere now, and... uh oh...
sarah: STOP TALKING ABOUT MICHELLE MALKIN! SHE'S NOT PRETTIER THAN ME! I'LL KILL YOU! DIE! DIE! DIE!
...so as I lay here in the hospital getting my bullets removed, it occurs to me that the next time the nurse comes by to take my temperature, I should probably try to steal the diamond out of her wedding ring so that maybe SarahK won't shoot me so much next time I see her.
She's got a bit of a vengeful streak, ya know.
I just hope she didn't do anything to Michelle Malkin...
Uh oh... Ecosystem rankings... August 26th, 2005...
MALKINO DELENDA EST?
New IMAudiO on Monday: The Corrupting Influence
We are in the process of completing the IMAudiO production for Monday August 29th. Like most of our previous IMAudiO productions, this week's show has a theme: "The Corrupting Influence" and features a blogging guest star!
Learn more about our weekly IMAudiO productions (which you can listen to on any computer with speakers or download to any portable media player that plays MP3s) on our sister website.
You can get pre-release hints about Monday's "Corrupting Influence" IMAudiO production or comment about any of our previous audio masterpieces in our IMAudiO Fan Forum.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 18 - Admissable
"How is terrorist hunting going, Rico?"
"I don't have time to talk, Dip."
"I thought I would inform you of some pertinent information I found. Diane Thompson holds the record of most citizen complaints against a Nar Valdum City police officer. Her nickname is 'Tommy-gun.' This is in reference to a 20th century human firearm that..."
"Thanks, Dip. Now go away."
"We will speak later, Officer Rico."
The Detective looked away from the shop ahead of us where apparently pig-drinker had run too. "Who's Dip?"
"What's the name stand for?"
"D-I-P, what does that stand for?"
"It doesn't stand for anything; I just call him 'Dip.'"
"So, what did he want?"
We're looking for terrorists! Why was she still giving me the third degree? "He's one of those learning algorithms. Always wants to contact me and ask questions." If the Detective really had that many complaints against her and was still holding her job, that seemed like it would speak to her skills at getting cases solved. That assured me now, but would be trouble if I kept close to her.
The Detective looked back to the store. It was a shop devoted to Islamic merchandise. She hit a few buttons on her wrist keypad, and Zippy turned to the shop and made a clicking noise.
The Detective stared through her glasses at apparently nothing. "The building has a large basement... maybe eight people down there. Pretty sure they are armed."
"Sounds like we found them, Detective. Let's call the backup."
"Not going to happen, Rico... and my name is Thompson, if you forgot it."
"Why can't we call backup, and can I call you 'Blondie?'"
Thompson looked at me sternly. "Let's stay serious, Rico. Now, my looking into that building using Zippy was technically an illegal search. Can't use it as evidence or call backup to enter the premises using it. Actually, I shouldn't even have a device equipped with such an ability."
"So this is what police work is like on civilized worlds?" I asked, choosing a tone of disdain.
"It has its advantages and disadvantages… for the populace, that is."
"So what do we need to be able to get the police on this place?"
"Evidence, legally obtained, or a violent disturbance. I could barge in there, get them to shoot at me, and then we'd have the police here in no time. Police barging into places tends to get the lawyers to dismiss evidence, so we might not be able to prosecute them afterwards."
I gave her a shocked look - though I actually did fully understand behind admissible evidence and illegal search and seizures. "Prosecution ain't a problem if they're dead."
Now she gave me a shocked look. "I have some idea of how you do things back on Rikar, but I prefer bringing in the criminals alive. Now, with these type of people who don't even care for their own lives, that will be hard. But, we need at least some to question. Now, I'm all for making an illegal entry if we can at least stop the terrorist attacks, but I'd rather a plan where we kinda stick to the law... or close to it."
I was silent for second as I pretended to be thinking. "Now, since I'm not a police officer, if I barged in there, got them to shoot at me, then could you charge perfectly legally, right?"
She smiled. "You seemed to have grasped that concept pretty quickly, Rico. That would work, but there's the whole downside of being shot at... which sometimes involves actually being shot."
"Well... could you lend me a gun?"
"That would get me in huge trouble, Rico." She then smiled at me again - a seductive smile? She pressed up against me, her hands moving along my body. Then she patted the guns I had concealed at each side. She pushed herself away from me, still holding the same smile. "Why don't you use your own guns, Rico."
I am great at concealing firearms. Could she actually tell, or did she assume and confirmed her assumption by that little maneuver? I realized I really had to stop underestimating Detective Thompson.
I smiled weakly. "I don't like walking around unarmed."
"Neither do I. Now let's get to this; another strike could be about to happen as we speak."
I nodded and walked towards the shop.
"Rico," she called out, "I don't how much this means when you're entering a place with the intention of being shot at, but be careful."
"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing."
"I'm sure you do. God bless you, Rico."
I sincerely doubted He would, even if He was the violent bastard the Islamists thought He was. But I smiled back at Diane when she said it, because soon I would be shooting people - and when is that not fun?
How many people here visit the Huffington Post? If you watch the headlines they put up, the might as well rename the site "Bad Stuff 'Bout the Bush Administration." Strangely, right now the main headline is that 90% of people agree that anti-war protestors have a right to "voice concerns."
They think that's news?
Every once in a while, there's a good post at HuffPo (rarely on the front page), but it's really like finding a needle in a haystack (well, a pile of something else is probably a better analogy for the liberal tripe that's their norm).
And what happened to Gutfeld? Did finally sack him for always making fun of everybody else at HuffPo?
UPDATE: Click on the bio in this post and get Gutfeld's "Secret Blog." (thanks to reader RW for pointing that out)
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Today, it's Nardo staring at a cabinet:
If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Nardo is a member of the Neo-Nazi hate group Stormfront and he's looking for a map to Crawford so he can protest against President Bush along with fellow Jew-hating, Israel-bashing Cindy "Mama Moonbat" Sheehan.
August 25, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 17 - Drink Up
The Detective threw a small metal object in the air, and it stayed in the air. It was flat with a big round eye at the front and what looked like a barrel underneath the eye.
The Detective put on what looked to be a normal pair of glasses. "That is Zippy. He's my partner. Not very smart, but never complains about my choice of methods. He watches my back, and is able to fire without a direct command from me. Thus, he's only loaded with stun shots." She pressed a number of buttons on a keypad at her wrist, and Zippy turned to face me. "I'll program him not to shoot you."
"I'd appreciate that."
She hit buttons for a couple seconds.
"Seemed like a lot of programming for 'don't shoot,' Detective."
She just smiled at me. So, she still didn't trust me. Well, I was starting not to trust her. Dip certainly did not get me all the pertinent information on this woman.
After passing through another alley, a large mosque was visible. At the top of it was a giant orb with an arrow in it. The arrow was currently pointed at me. "I think I'm Mecca."
The praying towards Mecca was usually only observed by human Muslims, and most just prayed up. It cost a lot to keep track of exactly what direction to pray towards the human home world - the place where Mecca used to be. There are a lot of rotations and revolutions to keep in mind. And, when many aliens don't care to honor Mecca, most mosques don't bother with all that.
Islam is a very interesting religion (I once missed a nature show on the Ultorian tiger to watch a show about its history). Humans call it Islam and trace it back to its origins on our home world, but its current form is an amalgamation of many different alien religions (each alien usually calls it by the name of the religion started on their own home world), their prominent prophets all said to be prophets of the one god, Allah (blessings be upon him). Who brought it to its current form was Mohammed (a human... and different from the other prophet Mohammed from way way back) who supposedly performed a lot of miracles and definitely united many sentient species to try and make Islam the only religion in the universe... many willing to use violence.
Best of luck to them.
Anyway, most Muslims do not worship Mecha-Allah, but all I've met seem at least sympathetic to the giant robot and love how trying to find it frustrates the more civilized worlds so much.
"A lot of violent idiots have come from this place," the Detective said as she looked at the mosque, "If I could, I’d drag the imam into prison. If the leadership isn't directly involved with these attacks, they probably know who is. In the least, someone attending here is involved. That I am 99% sure of. We push this lead."
I was going to ask how, but remembered she didn't like questions. I had my own plan, anyway. We started heading for the building.
"Now, they will be insulted by me questioning them because I'm a woman... I plan to use that." She paused for a moment. "I would normally never do this, but lives are at stake." She opened her blouse to reveal her cleavage. She then looked to me. "Please don't tell anyone."
"I'll keep it to myself."
She continued onward. "You kept eye-contact; you're a nice guy."
I laughed, as that was funny in a number of different ways even though she didn't mean it. "So antagonizing the religious types is the plan?"
"They'll be antagonized just by the site of me; I'm aiming for enraging them. I can't really pretend to have respect for this religion; I hope that doesn't bother you."
I chuckled slightly.
The Detective barged through the doors, Zippy and I following close behind. "I'm here to ask some questions about the recent bombings!" she yelled as the group of people bowing in about her direction.
"We're in the middle of prayers!" yelled a frustrated old, bearded man who looked to be the imam, "We..." He paused when he caught sight of her. "Detective Thompson!" he shouted as he walked towards her, "The city gave us a restraining order against you!"
"I can't be expected to keep track of all the restraining orders against me. Now, I assume you'll be willing to help me track down those nasty Cyber-Islamists."
The imam scowled. "I won't speak to you until you cover up, woman!"
The Detective gouged him in the eyes. "There. Now you don't see me. Same effect."
Many started shouting, and, as one man approached, Zippy shot him. The guy tensed and fell to the floor. "Be careful of my little robot friend; he's malfunctioning."
The group there were a number of males - some aliens but mainly human - all glaring at the Detective with murder in their eyes. She glared back. I couldn't see her expression, but it seemed to make most of them hesitant. By now, I was really curious what her reputation on the street was. I just stood back, watching the group with a casual smile. The imam knew something about this - I could already tell. I wanted to find someone in the crowd directly involved.
"Hey, I'm kinda curious about this religion," I called out. "Think I could get a pamphlet or something?"
"We welcome no one who associates with this infidel!" the imam shouted, getting angrier.
"And where are the chicks," I asked, looking around all the males, "This isn't some sort of gay thing?"
"They worship in another room!" the imam shouted. "Both of you, GET OUT!"
A lot of the guys there looked capable of murder, but a few were now particularly sticking out.
The Detective grabbed the imam by his beard. "First, can you tell me if anyone here worships that rusty, poor excuse for a god?"
Did I see a hint of concern on a face?
"We do not associate with the Cyber-Islamists," the imam said. He then laughed. "Perhaps they are a hand of Allah in how they punish the infidels! Now go back to your own dying religion, woman, before we call some actual police!"
She knocked him to the floor. "Yeah, go ahead. Doubt you cowards will. You, like that stupid robot, like to hide. You make threats, but you're all too impotent to fight out in the open."
That made everyone angry, but one human was angered in a slightly different way. I could tell he was restraining himself as the words hit him more personally. He had something to hide. He was involved. He was mine.
The males finally were angry enough to begin to approach the Detective, but I approached them quicker and grabbed my mark. "Come on Mohammed; I want to find out about your religion."
"How do you know my name?" He was in complete panic.
I dragged him to the door. "I'm going to have a little chat with him outside," I told the Detective who looked a bit peeved I was stealing her thunder. "You stay and chat with your friends."
Mohammed wouldn't talk with me, so the chat didn't last long. Soon, he was running back inside the mosque, yelling and spitting.
"He forced me to swallow pigs' blood!"
I had followed Mohammed back inside. He ran into the group of men and began to disappear behind them. The Detective, looking a bit confused, was ready to follow, but I tapped her on the arm to tell her to stay.
"That guy is crazy. I did not force him to drink pigs' blood."
The aforementioned "chicks" were now peaking in to see what was going on. "The vial in your hand!" the imam shouted, pointing to the vial in my hand, "It says 'Pigs' Blood' right on it!"
I looked at the vial. It did indeed say "Pigs' Blood" in large letters. I looked back to the imam. "It's mislabeled."
He looked to the Detective. "Your partner is as bad as you! This is the worst police abuse..."
"I'm not a police officer," I interrupted, "I'm just a tourist. See, back on my planet, we force red liquids down each other's throats all the time. Do you guys have something against that, because I was trying to find out about your religion?"
Everyone looked about ready to tear me apart. Diane had recovered from her shock and confusion and stated plainly, "I do remember hearing him ask for a pamphlet."
"GET OUT!" the imam shrieked.
Mohammed had disappeared - probably out a backdoor. Good.
The Detective looked to me, and I smiled. She seemed to take the cue.
She tossed a card to the imam. "Call me in the future if you have any information to help the police." She, Zippy, and I, then exited.
When we were a decent distance away, the Detective buttoned back up her blouse and looked at me with a deadly serious gaze. "I assume you have some sort of plan... or do you always carry around pigs' blood?"
"The guy I grabbed - I'm certain he was involved. Had it written all over him."
"Really?" she answered incredulously, "So you forced him to drink pigs' blood?"
She wasn't even cracking a smile. I thought that was pretty funny. "I keep tracking tags on my luggage when I travel. Right now, one of my bags is missing a tag." I took out a little handheld computer. "Want to see where it's going?"
The screen showed a dot moving away from us at a running pace. "Your magic cop instincts better be right, Rico. We don't have time to waste."
"I'm right," I assured her, as I was pretty sure. "Are you going to get in trouble for all that stuff back there?" I have met plenty of cops in my days, and all I've seen on civilized planets seemed like they'd rather die than be nearly that abrasive.
The Detective sighed. "I'll get yelled at - but that's it. When they put me on this, they expected this. They never would have put me on this case if they didn't want it solved quick and most of our resources are tied up on the direct threat to Senator Gredler."
The direct threat to Senator Gredler started moving towards the dot on the screen. "If we're lucky, he'll head right to his buddies to warn that we're on to them... and to get help vomiting."
The Detective finally smiled again. "So was that really pigs' blood?"
"Where would I get pigs' blood?"
Great Googley Goo Goo!: Good News/Bad News
The Good News:
The Bad News:
The Good News:
The Bad News
The Good News:
The Bad News:
The Good News:
The Bad News:
The Good News:
The Bad News:
The Good News:
The Bad News:
Carnival Of Comedy #17: NOW With More JIMMYB!
It's his First! time hosting the carnival and its a really good First! Attempt. Good job Jimmyb.
This is a very good thing. It is well known that Michael Moore is fat (very unhealthy), and it is nice to see him own up to it and do something about it. Perhaps, he'll own up to more things such as that he's a lying lefty wacko and go to a lying lefty wacko farm to get rid of his lying lefty wacko ideals through study of Ronald Reagan and electro shocks and stick beatings. Perhaps Michael Moore will become a lean, mean conservative machine and become the greatest fear of the left!
Anyway, three to one odds he'll be even fatter a year from now.
IMAO EXCLUSIVE: MAD TOFU DISEASE RAMPANT!
EXCLUSIVE!!! MUST CREDIT IMAO!!!
It ends up that all the hype about Mad Cow Disease was simply a way for the government to cover up the real problem our nation is facing - MAD TOFU DISEASE!
For years now, cheap tofu, mad from INSANE SOY BEANS, has been on the market. This type of tofu is often consumed by DUMB HIPPIES AND OTHER LIBERALS!
When the mad tofu is ingested, the disease takes on the human variant - MAD DEMOCRAT DISEASE!
People with Mad Democrat Disease GO CRAZY! They spout COMPLETE INSANITY! The infected are EVERYWHERE, and they won't rest until ALL OTHERS ARE INFECTED LIKE THEM!
One nearly-prominent person with FULL-BLOWN MAD DEMOCRAT DISEASE is KOS of the DailyKos. He has been DRIVEN MAD and wants all others INSANE LIKE HIM! He has GONE MAD WITH non-existant POWER and is determined to TAKE DOWN THE DLC so that ONLY THOSE WITH MAD DEMOCRAT DISEASE RUN THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY!
Be careful! Those infected with Mad Democrat Disease will ATTACK WITHOUT PROVOCATION! They will try to INFECT YOU TOO! Only A SHOT TO THE HEAD is CERTAIN TO KILL THEM! And, since the disease is spread through ingestion, DO NOT EAT SOMEONE WITH MAD DEMOCRAT DISEASE!
BIG SCOOP!!! MUST CREDIT IMAO!!!
Bush Gets Some Cheap Potatoes
As families of military men and women were invited, my parents and my sister-in-law were at this speech from Bush. Considering that Idaho competes with Utah for "Most Republican State" (there are more gays than Democrats marching in Boise's annual parade), it was a very receptive crowd. My dad said he could see Air Force One parked at the Boise Airport from his office.
I had a chance to see Bush when he was campaigning in 2000 in Pittsburgh, but I would have to have walk a couple blocks for it. Gore gave a speech on the Carnegie Mellon campus, though. I had a lab project to get checked off that day, and, of course, Gore had to give his speech from the steps of Hammerschlag Hall (the building where all the engineering labs are). I had to sneak around the Secret Service and find a back entrance to the building. Afterwards, I was able to make it to the front door and see Gore walking off through the window.
I shook my fist at him. The Vice President almost made me fail!
vote! vote! vote!
if you haven't voted in Patrick Ruffini's 2008 presidential straw poll, get over there and do it. they are tracking results by the blog from which you were referred, so the more votes we generate the better we look.
although i don't expect that we can generate the 4,500+ votes that hugh hewitt has, we are within striking range of blogs for bush, right wing news, captain's quarters, and powerline
we don't want you to manipulate the system and vote multiple times, but you can at least vote once!
Notice a pattern?
Olivia Newton-John may appear innocent and sweet, but think for a moment, folks.
Start with her initials: O N J.
Now drop the N.
All I'm saying is that things might be just a little dangerous in Xanadu these days, okay?
August 24, 2005
I Demand To Speak With President Bush!
Since demanding to speak with President Bush is the hip and trendy thing to do these days, I decided to follow Cindy Sheehan's lead and demand to speak with the President, too, because I want to know:
Who's REALLY sitting in the prison cell in Iraq?
Is it Saddam Hussein?
Or is it actually best selling author Leo Buscaglia, presumably deceased since 1998?
Mr. President, I think the American people deserve to know the truth. All those lies you keep telling us... Please...
In the name of Love.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 16 - Walking into Danger
How could I tell if I was scared? I don't remember being scared before, but the feeling was like what it seemed fear should be - this nagging feeling that I didn't want to continue onward.
So what was I afraid of? Not death, of course. Not the Detective - she might be able to see through my ruse, but that's a contingency I'm always prepared for.
Something about this whole job to kill Senator Gredler was making me scared, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Anytime I have emotions, it's obvious why. How could I lose touch with myself so much as to have feelings I can't understand?
"Are you all right, Rico?"
I quickly recovered. "Just thinking of yesterday." The Detective bid me into the passenger seat of her car. "Don't you have a partner, Detective?"
"Not at this time," she answered as the vehicle rose into the air, "I'll be meeting some officers in the area before I proceed with the investigation."
"I assume you're starting at a mosque."
"We had pictures up on the news of those still left with faces," she explained. Was she criticizing me for going for headshots? "One was identified as an attendee of a mosque on the edge of the city. I think our tips have come from Galtists, though, and I assume you know of their rivalry with Islam."
I nodded. The Galtists were an alien religious group - inclusive to almost all sentients - known for occasional violence. I think they'd rather be known for their message of salvation through meditation, but violence always makes the news.
"Cyber-Islamists tend to work locally from a sympathetic mosque," the Detective continued, "so this is worth checking out. I hope to get there right after one of their daily prayers."
"Should be easy to tell right away from the leaders if they’re involved."
She smiled. "You think?"
"Yes," I said indignantly. "If this isn't them, how many other mosques are there to check out?"
The Detective shrugged her shoulders. "I'll get in trouble if I go around harassing people just because of their religion. I’ll actually have to use my detective skills if I don’t want to get yelled at.."
"If," I repeated, and she chuckled. Luckily, I wasn't concerned with religious tolerance. Actually, I'm usually never concerned with any tolerance whatsoever. I'd have to put those views on hold, though, so as not to scare off the fair Detective.
We landed near a patrol car. The building around us were ramshackled and vandalized. Probably plenty of people guilty of something around here... other than me, of course.
The officers were a human male and a Corridian female. They both stared at me. "So that's the hero?" the male asked.
"Police officer on a planet called Rikar," the Detective told them, "Good with a gun, but I didn't have time for the paperwork to let him be armed."
I smiled. "I brought a knife if that's okay." More than one, actually.
"So you're doing this without any backup?" the female asked disapprovingly.
"I got Zippy with me... and I'm just asking some questions now."
"Anything suspicious, call us and we'll be there in a second," the male told her.
"And do call us," the female stated, "Don't be stupid."
"I'll take the 'not being stupid' under advisement," the Detective said dryly.
The male looked back to me. "Rico, do you have any idea what you're getting into with Thompson?"
It was hard not to laugh. "Who doesn't like a little adventure on his vacation?"
"He asked to come," the Detective told them, "How could I say no to a hero?"
The male shrugged. "Fine. Just don't get him killed."
The officers got back into their vehicle and lifted off.
"So what was that about?"
"What was what about?" the Detective answered, beckoning me to follow her down the dangerous looking streets.
It was just a perfunctory question, anyway; I already gathered plenty from that exchange. "We're walking?"
"From here on."
"And who or what is Zippy?"
"You'll see." She stopped to look at me. "Now, if you keep asking questions all the time, that will be hindering me." She smiled to try and hide whether she was serious or not. She was.
Near us, an alien grumbled something that my universal translator said meant "humans" though it sounded like an epithet. We both ignored him. "Now let's find these murderers. Who knows how much time we have before they strike again."
A reckless detective and a murderous psychopath posing as a police officer - now that's a team. This was probably going to be a lot of fun... as long as we didn't get ourselves killed.
Even if, maybe.
In My World: The Hagel Stops Here
The hooded figure of Karl Rove emerged from the shadows. "Bush, I look at your poll numbers, and I see but darkness and foreboding."
"I guess I won't be reelected then," Bush chuckled as he sat at his desk, "Now, do you want to bet how many Twinkies I can stuff in my mouth at once?"
"Your poll numbers must be a shining beacon that continues to lead the Republicans," Rove told him, "You must improve them. And, when you rode bikes with Lance Armstrong and kicked him into a tree, that did not help."
"It's not my fault he didn't ask what the rules to our bike race was!" Bush answered indignantly, "The important thing was I won!"
"Still, it played poorly with the masses."
"Well, if someone is so dumb they don't like me, I don't want them liking me," Bush asserted.
"I AM YOUR MASTER!" Rove thundered as the windows in the room shattered, "YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!"
"Fine," Bush groaned.
"Mick of Jagger has a song exposing our evil neocon cabal," Rove stated, "He must be silenced."
"No problem." Rove faded back into the shadows, and Bush looked to the door to his office. "Scott!"
The White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan came running. "What do you need, Mr. President?"
"Kill Mick Jagger."
"Uh... first off, I'm a Press Secretary - I don't kill people. Second, what you’re asking is highly illegal and immoral... actually, that should be my first point..."
Bush picked up a baseball bat and waved it over his head. "You do it now and stop being such a baby. Once you do it, I'll pardon you which will make it both legal and moral. Now get going before I get swinging!"
"Okay! Okay!" Scott shouted in fear as he ran away.
"Once he does it, I'll just say he never worked here and I never heard of him. Muh ha ha ha!" Bush laughed evilly to himself.
Rumsfeld came barging in the office followed by his dog Chomps who was biting angrily at the air around him. "Senator Hagel compared my war to Vietnam!" Rumsfeld yelled in rage, "That's outrageous! I will win this war and not chicken out because of noisy hippies! I want Hagel's head on a pike."
"No more heads on pikes, Rummy," Bush answered, "Hagel will be here soon, but I will handle this my way. Just follow my lead."
Hagel came into the Oval Office. "What do you want? I have numerous press appearances to make."
"Help me lift my desk, Rummy," Bush said as he lifted one side and Rumsfeld lifted the other.
"Can't you move your furniture later?" Hagel asked angrily.
"Heave ho!" Bush yelled, and they flung the desk at Hagel so it landed upside down on top of him, Hagel's legs the only thing sticking out beneath it.
"There, problem solved," Bush said triumphantly.
"Back in my day, we didn't solve problem through such complicated means as throwing a desk on someone," Rumsfeld grumbled.
"Well, this is how we do things in modern times," Bush answered.
Condoleezza Rice appeared at the door. She looked down at the desk. "Did you kill Hagel?"
"Maybe," Bush answered, "His leg is twitching, though."
Chomps started attacking the twitching leg.
"You might get in trouble for this," Condi cautioned, "Hagel is a Vietnam vet with Purple Hearts."
"I never got the point of Purple Hearts," Bush stated, "In lots of videogames I've played, you get awarded if you don't get hurt. Maybe we should do that in the military."
"I think you should call an ambulance, though," Condi suggested.
"I would, but my phone was on the desk."
"All this talk is boring me!" Rumsfeld growled, "Let's go declare a new war."
"Nah, let's go bowling instead," Bush said, "I think there's a bowling alley somewhere in this place... and a haunted cupboard!"
"Fine, let's look for it," Condi answered, "Shouldn't you still be in Crawford, though?"
"People kept bothering me there," Bush replied as he walked on top of the overturned desk, "I figured the White House was a better place to hide."
They all left the Oval Office, Chomps trotting after them. "Will somebody help me?" Hagel squeaked from under the desk.
An apparition appeared. "I am the ghost of Nixon," it announced in an unearthly voice.
"Are you a friendly ghost?" Hagel asked hopefully.
It just laughed.
Everyone Loves a Good Story... and Some People Like a Mediocre One
I hadn't posted about my story until now, but, since a few people seem to like it, I thought I'd mention the purpose behind it. Right now, I'm busy with this blog, the podcast, my full time job, and getting my IMW book ready and edited (though much of my free time still goes to videogames - is it my fault Resident Evil 4 is one of the best games ever made and has so much replayability value?). I really want to write novels, though, but, until I get my IMW book done, I don't have time for that. So, to outlet some of that creativity, one day I just randomly came up with a start for a story (the first sentence is very important) and decided to write a few paragraphs a day which I thought would not be very demanding. As the story has evolved and I've gained more of an idea where it's headed, it's become more complex. I'll continue onward, though, but I may have to just randomly stop each part in the future instead of each one coming to a neat conclusion (I’ve almost been writing full chapters for each part lately) so it's not such a sap of time.
For those reading it, I hope you continue to enjoy it. I know it’s not very sophisticated sci-fi (I’m saving my energies for the novels I won’t be writing as serials and will also be in third-person), but I think it should make for an interesting character study. I doubt any of you will be able to figure out where it's headed, and, as a warning, it will most likely get less humorous the closer it gets to its conclusion.
TRIVIA: Someone asked if Dip was based on the 20 questions game from 20q.net. He’s partially based on that principle, but he’s also inspired a little bit by a computer from another sci-fi novel. What computer is that?
Carnival of Comedy Reminder
Hey there pajamahedeen! The Carnival of Comedy is coming up Thursday, Aug 25th! Spooooon! Fooooork!
JimmyB everyones favor conservative UAW guy will be hosting the carnival at,um The Conservative UAW Guy for Week 17 on Aug. 25. It will be JummyB's First! time hosting the carnival so please, be gentle.
Carnival Scheduled Stops:
Want to host?
Still have questions?
PS: Not a single woman has hosted the carnival yet. Just saying.
The NCAA has discovered a basic principle of anatomy: you have to remove your head from up your ass to see the light so you can take your foot out of your mouth...
The NCAA will allow Florida State to use its Seminoles nickname in postseason play, removing the school from a list of colleges with American Indian nicknames that were restricted by an NCAA decision earlier this month.
And why was the team name on the list?
Florida State president T.K. Wetherell had threatened to sue the NCAA immediately after its Aug. 5 announcement that the school's highly visible nickname, "Seminoles," was defined as "hostile and abusive" by a committee.
That's right. A committee decided the nickname was hostile and abusive, even though the tribe itself approved of its use.
I guess the committee didn't have enough diversity, nor did they ask the Seminoles themselves.
Wow. What a committee. Do they do Bar Mitzvahs and weddings, too? Can they juggle and make balloon animals?
You know, the name of the NCAA President is Myles Brand.
I don't need to remind you that slaves were often branded like cattle. Heck, the branding of cattle is considered cruel by PETA these days.
I think Myles Brand, head of the overly politically-correct and judgemental NCAA, should admit the cruel history of his name and be forced to change it.
I Am Wise and All-Knowing!
I was looking at the reader suggestions, and decided to start with the idea that I make a SuperBowl prediction.
I, the great Frank J., say, that, in Janurary 2006, playing at the SuperBowl will be...
Are you ready for some of it?
Oh, and there will also be many ads for Pepsi and Budweiser.
The great and all-knowing Frank J. has spoken!
August 23, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 15 - Humor
"So will you proceed unarmed, Officer Rico?"
Dip had started calling me "officer." I decided to ignore it. "What do you think?"
"You seem to dislike being without guns. I also think that, if you are found to have weapons, you'll probably kill the witnesses. That won't be very police officer like of you."
I was about to give Dip an odd glance, but then I remembered he was just a voice in my ear. I was taking a few armaments with me - guns, explosives - and, yes, I would kill the Detective and any other officers around if my weapons were discovered. But, they would only be discovered if I had to use them, which meant I had been placed in a dangerous position where I had no option but to shoot back at some criminals. So, if I had to kill the Detective on that matter, it would be for her own incompetence.
"Officer Rico, this seems like a lot of effort to get a little information."
"I just think I'm going to be needing that information, Dip. I have the feeling Gredler is involved in something big, and things just aren't adding up."
"Maybe you should have me do the adding; I'm very good with math."
That was enough. "Dip, are you being stupid, or are you trying to make jokes?"
"The latter. I took what you meant metaphorically and treated it literally. I understand with some jokes..."
"Why are you trying to be funny, Dip?"
"You have been very hard to get input from, thus, using a random number generator, I've decided to try different things to see if they suit you better. It does seem like you could use more humor, Rico."
I just grunted in response as I picked out a coat. It had been warm out, so I needed one I could conceal everything with while not making myself too hot. "Dip, how is the extraction plan going?"
"I have a new plan which I rate to have approximately a 23.847% chance of success. Do you like the number? I made it more computer like instead of a nice round number."
"I don't care how many decimal spaces you give me, Dip; I need a much better plan."
"As for your own plan, what happens if you are unable to gain Detective Thompson's trust to get the information from her?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you will drag her into a dark alley, beat the information out of her, and then kill her - probably with a blaster so you won't get a mess on yourself."
That was almost eerie. Dip really did seem to be making an effort to understand me. "You're beginning to think like a hitman, Dip."
"That makes an interesting irony: for the Detective to live, she has to be naive enough to trust a psychopath."
I put on a nice light jacket. "Live longer, at least."
"I think you should revisit my conclusion that you are evil, Rico."
"I told you I don't have time for that; too much work to do to indulge your learning algorithms."
"Do you really think you'll be able to find the terrorists, Officer Rico?"
"A killer in search of killers - it just might work." I had a keen eye - that's how I survive - and it seemed I should be able to do this... or at least impress the Detective enough in the attempt. Then maybe she could help me find out why this hit seemed so odd. I still couldn't quite place my finger on exactly what disturbed me so much, but I think I might actually be... scared.
Is that possible?
"Rico! Knock. Knock."
"Shut up, Dip."
Man, I'm in the summer doldrums right now. Politics is boring and my muse is at the beach. So, I decide I'll write whatever you want me to write about. What's an issue you want my opinion on (so you know what to think too)? Just put in the comments, and I'll start writing my wisdom soon.
We Need Petitions!
Is there anything more useless than an internet petition? Yes, but those things aren't worth the time it would take mentioning them.
Anyway, does someone know how to set up one? I always get Democrat spam for new petitions (fire Rumsfeld, impeach Bush, etc.) so any idiot must be able to do it (just not this idiot). I want a petition for President Bush to bitch-slap Senator Hagel (I decided punch was too harsh and that a bitch-slap was more likely to happen). We then need a million signatures and can send it to the President. Hopefully, it can also be used against Hagel when he inevitably tries to make a presidential run.
"If you have so much popular support as you claim, then how come there was a popular internet petition started by fellow Republicans to have you bitch-slapped?"
It's a good idea, and, like most good ideas, I don't have time for it. Someone get to it!
let your voices be heard!
Patrick Ruffini has a very, very, very early 2008 presidential straw poll worth checking out. I'm just sad there isn't a selection for candidate for whom you would most like to see eaten alive by fire ants. Hmmmm . . . that gives me an idea . . .
Putting a big fat "ass" in assassination
This is what happens when I forget to check my voicemail in the morning.
"Hey, Laurence... first off, God bless you, even if you don't accept Jesus Christ as your savior and was a part of the Hebrew cabal to kill our messiah and His only son two thousand years ago... I need a favor... could you use some of your Jesus-killing skills on a certain Venezuelan that's been in the news... and, no, I'm not talking about Antonio Banderas, even if he's a forniacting homosexual... hold on... let me check my map... all you'll need to do is go through Central America and you're right there... then just head to Brazil and walk on the dotted line to North Africa... you'll be safe there as long as you don't act too Jewish, then got terrorists there, you know... okay, so let me know if you're interested and where we should put the money, like you don't control the banking industry already... how do you hang this thing up... wait... hold on..."
I knew I should have checked it before taking a shower. Now he's gone public.
All Your Blogs Are Belong to Us
Michelle Malkin (who is on vacation now) is now number one on the TTLB Ecosystem with 6,238 links to it, having now just surpassed Instapundit, home of the blender. IMAO currently hold the number thirty-three spot (though we bounce around a lot) with 1,692 links to us.
The number one spot should be ours!
That means we have a 4,546 link gap to make up - almost more than we have readers - but I think we can do it. It should be easier to wrestle the number one spot away from Malkin than it was Reynolds because she is only a girl. What you, my loyal, mindless readers, must do is find any blog that doesn't link to IMAO and send them an e-mail asking why they hate freedom and love monkeys. Use profanity if you think it will help.
Come on. Get on with it!
UPDATE: Does this count as an Alliance victory?
IMAO "Back to School" audio now available!
The latest IMAO audio production (posted Monday August 22 at 10:30pm Pacific) is now available for download to your computer!
In this week's episode:
You can comment on this week's episode, get exclusive behind-the-scenes knowledge of how the shows are written and produced, and interact directly with the IMAO Bloggers in the Fan Forum on the updated IMAO Podcast website brought to you by Spacemonkey.
August 22, 2005
Cantstandya . . .
One of the best Seinfeld episodes ever is the one where George decides to do the opposite of what his instincts tell him. Apparently Senator Chuck Hagel is a Seinfeld fan and has adopted this strategy in regards to his 2008 presidential campaign. How else can you explain his recent assertions that the U.S. has lost the war in Iraq, Iraq is the equivalent of Vietnam, our presence in Iraq has "destabilized the Middle East," and we should pull out of Iraq as soon as possible. All this comes less than a year after a presidential election in which the Republican base and a good portion of the rest of the electorate clearly rejected this line of thought. Senator Hagel can't possibly think that these arguments, which have been thoroughly discredited on many occassions, have any appeal to rank and file party members. He has aligned himself much more closely to the likes of Michael Moore and Cindy Sheehan than President Bush and the party leadership.
This seemingly suicidal approach to the 2008 presidential race only makes sense in the context of the rule of opposites. The opposite of victory is defeatism. The opposite of logic is illogic. The opposite of truth is lies. Yes, it's all starting to make sense now . . .
You know, I'm getting pretty sick of the World Series of Poker and other Poker shows clogging up the cable channels. All these makeovers and reality shows are bumming me out, too.
Can one hope for a sudden explosion of lava sledding on the tube, now that the Hawaiians have thumbed their noses at Darwin and revived the practice?
What began as childhood fun on a natural roller coaster has evolved into an academic and cultural journey aimed at reviving the 2,000-year-old Hawaiian tradition of he'e holua, or Hawaiian lava sledding.
What's Hawaiian for "Jackass?" And does Johnny Knoxville like poi?
I know I'm on the edge of my seat, jiggling my restless legs with joy at the thought. And my Spam filters are already updated to block "Honolulu Hold 'Em" and "Oahu Boo-Boos."
I guess we can look forward to this in Harvey's Extended Version Ten Anniversary Edition DVD Release of Fun Facts About Hawaii. I'm clearing a shelf and getting out the Pledge for it as I speak.
Just to stress the point, please comment on the post below. The podcast is a lot of work for all involved, and, though we love seeing our creativity come to life in it, there is only so long we can keep at it with nothing in return (we barely even get much feedback). Your honest assessment would be appreciated, and Scott should have the new podcast up later today.
How many of you blog readers would be interested in IMAOnDemand, an audio version of the blog that you would download to your computer and listen to at your convenience?
There's so much confusion about the IMAO Podcast ("Podcast? No, I can't listen to podcasts... I don't own an iPod") that I'm considering a change that would re-brand the weekly IMAO audio productions as "IMAOnDemand" in the hopes that more people listen.
The bottom line is the bottom line: I am not seeing a growing number of downloads for the IMAO Podcast, our audio is being ignored by the mainstream media that normally fawns over any poorly produced but politically far-left podcast (I count a grand total of "0" stories done on right-of-center podcasts like StarkCast or unashamedly right-wing podcasts like Republican Radio but no fewer than seven mentions of far-left "entertainment" podcasts in the past ten weeks of New York Times' stories on podcasting), and I'm not seeing a return on time/money investment here.
If you like the IMAO Podcast, comment in our forum or send us an e-mail to let us know email@example.com
AFTERNOON UPDATE: Here are some of the comments we've received about the IMAO audio content so far...
If you just change the name (EXCELLENT IDEA!) make it something obvious like "IMAO on MP3" or "Audio IMAO" so the doofi like me don't ignore it for 7 weeks because we don't HAVE one of those Ipod thingies.
I don't download the podcast because I view IMAO when I should be working... and work + speakers don't mix.
I have no intereste[sic] in any audio content. I prefer to read because it is faster and quieter and can easily be done in bits and pieces as I work or whatever.
thanks but no thanks .... I enjoy your blog just fine without audio .... usually means no one in the office is aware of what I do during my breaks (from reality)
I seriously don't think you're doing half enough to promote the podcast if getting mentioned on the NYT & more is your goal...
EDITOR'S RESPONSE: Our goal is not to have any IMAO audio productions mentioned in the NYT... our goal is to have 10,000+ downloads per week of our audio productions—the left-wing podcasts that have been mentioned in the NYT do enjoy those kinds of download numbers while we are hovering at 4,600 per month and all of our requests for media attention are ignored. I am sure that if Glenn Reynolds, Michelle Malkin, the guys at PowerLine, La Shawn Barber, and Charles Johnson of Little Green Footballs would talk about the IMAO Podcast on their blogs, we wouldn't even need a mention in the NYT.
WORK-LIFE BALANCE UPDATE: For the large number of IMAO readers who say "I can't listen to audio at work", the solution to that is a cheap USB Drive from any local electronics store like Best Buy. You can download the IMAO Podcast as an MP3, pop in the USB Drive into your work computer, transfer the MP3 to the USB Drive, and take the USB Drive with you to listen on your PC at home. The $16 USB Drive from Best Buy I mentioned is a great investment just because it is more convenient than a floppy disk and can hold hundreds of digital photos, thousands of documents, or up to 5 IMAO Podcasts at a time.
POST-PODCAST POSTING UPDATE: I want to thank everyone who has given us great feedback on the IMAO Podcast... which will now be called IMAudiO. We hope you all enjoy the latest episode!
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 14 - Everything on It
All Dip could turn up about Senator Gredler was rumors of all the sleazy things you'd expect a politician to be involved in (the wise man is distrustful of anyone who seeks power). The guy was a real power player - planets moved at his beckoning - but that still made him a relative small fry compared to intergalactic criminal syndicates (our power isn't limited by who we have treaties with; we go wherever our weaponry allows us). Still the Galactic Alliance was the largest political movement I've seen, and it could be a threat to organized crime were it to grow - something I would think would be encouraged by us publicly killing one of their highest ranking politicians.
A piece was missing. It was Diane's job to fill it in. In my hotel room, I rearmed (smaller, even more concealable pieces) and dressed casual for our "date." It was not going to be my goal to woo the Detective - for all I know, she could be a dyke (call me sexist for suspecting a woman who has a 78% percent chance of being attractive who isn't married at her age, but I just say I'm being observational; my guess is she's too tied up with her job for much of a personal life, though). I just wanted to get her to trust me as a fellow cop so I can get more information out of her. That was a new challenge for this psychopath, but I'm all for broadening my horizon.
Our meeting place was at a pizzeria. She was seated at a table wearing the same clothes she had on while on duty; apparently she was making this just a meeting between two fellow officers of the law - except, I knew she was suspicious of me. Plus, if she assumed I had any intelligence, she knew I knew she was suspicious of me. This worked well for me because it meant I wasn't the only one who was going to be trying to act normal.
She smiled when she spotted me - somewhat perfunctorily - and asked, "How's the leg?"
I took a seat across from her. "Little stiff, but it seems to be in working order. Still haven't found anyone to fix the hole in my pants, though."
We laughed at my joke. I scanned her face to better see her true feelings, and noticed she was doing the same to me. This could be awkward.
"You seem to be in good spirits after all that's happened today," she stated, trying to sound complementary.
"I wish I can say that was the worse I've been through."
Her response was stopped by the waiter - some gray alien type I'd never seen before. He seemed to be familiar with the Detective and curious about her company. She told him I'm a police officer from another planet and left it there. "So what do you want on the pizza?" she asked me.
"Whatever you recommend." I couldn't care less. I usually eat the blandest things that give me the needed nutrients; eating is a functional thing for me. On occasion, I spoil myself just to keep my stomach used to rich foods and preservatives for situations such as this.
She ordered a "supreme" and a Coke to drink while I asked for bottled water for myself. I was somewhat wary of a restaurant meant to make human cuisine but run by aliens; what's poison for some is yummy for others. Still, I decide I could trust the Detective on her choice in pizza joints.
"Sorry that a pizza is about all you’re getting for your heroism," she told me with a slight smile, "It really is best to keep things quiet about you; we are certain more terrorists are lurking around the city."
"And are you out to find them right now?"
"Now I'm eating dinner. Then I'll be heading to the outskirts where our best leads say the terrorists are hiding. It looks like some more of these smaller attacks are to come and then something big planned for the main day of the conference."
"And then you have an assassin after that Senator on top of all that. Seems like your plate is full."
"I'm not on that case," she told me, and I could detect the disappointment. Interesting.
"Why do you think an assassin is after that man?"
"I can't really go into those details, Rico."
I decided to look a little offended. If there was any information I needed, it was that. If this hit by the syndicate had been ratted to the police, that meant big trouble. "Well, any idea why someone would want that politician dead." I cracked a smile. "Is he too honest?"
The Detective laughed heartily at that one. "Definitely a 'No' to that one."
"So he's extra-crooked?"
"I don't know." But she suspects something. I could tell it. "So, things sound pretty rough on Rikar. Are they going to get along without you?"
"There are a lot of people I trust on the police force, and I just needed a break from all the violence." I then chuckled, because that was ironic. "Was hoping to find some more civilized means of police work to bring back there. We don't need detectives as much most of the time because sentients will not even try to hide their crimes. Whether we apprehend the perp is a matter of whether we feel we have enough people and arms to do it."
"Any chance of your planet joining the Galactic Alliance?"
"We'd need to organize ourselves more, first. How does that work out for you?"
She shrugged. "It needs work. It at least allows us to pursue criminals to other Alliance planets."
I laughed. "How often are fugitives dumb enough to flee to an Alliance planet?"
She didn't laugh. "Not often enough. At least with this current case I'm looking for people I'm pretty sure to be on planet."
I decided to look more serious. "Such a stupid thing. These terrorist murdering people because they think some giant robot is a god. Religion can lead people to the dumbest behavior."
Oops. Looks like I offended her, though she tried to hide it. "Are you religious, Rico?"
"No, not really, Detective."
"What keeps you going then?"
Great. Now we're down conversation paths I hadn't planned for. "What?"
"Sounds like it can be rough on Rikar. What motivates you to keep at it?"
It was a somewhat philosophical question, so I let my self pause to think which I thought would not appear odd. "I guess... because people need me. Never really thought about that too much." Seemed like a good answer.
The Detective considered my response for a moment. She then chuckled nervously. "Sorry; I guess I'm asking a lot of questions; hard habit to break."
I smiled; I'm good with convincing smiles - I can even get the eyes right. "I'm asking questions, too. I'm really curious in all this. You have terrorists plus an assassination plot, and I'd love to see how an organized police department handles that. Is there any chance I could tag along with you as you try to find these terrorists?"
"I don't know..."
"I might be of some help. I got a good look at the terrorists and their demeanor."
"Yeah, there was a way to them... a way to all sorts of killers. The terrorists all had a certain look to them... in their eyes. It'll be visible in terrorists planning to attack later... even if they try to hide it."
The Detective laughed. "Really?" She didn't think I was serious, and I really was.
"Hey, I don't know the area, but I know criminals. I think I can help. If I get in the way, tell me; I won't be offended." I smiled. "Anyway, I should be able to avenge my ruined pants." I decided that was too cheeky since people died and thus quickly became more serious. "And it's hard to see people gunned down like that and not try and help."
She was quiet for a few seconds. "Okay, Rico. I'm afraid you'll still have to be unarmed."
"Then don't make me enter anywhere first," I laughed.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. If the terrorist have marked you, you'll be safer among us anyway."
I smiled, and then came the pizza and drinks. If I could really help her, then she'd have to trust me and I could get the info I needed - maybe get in close with Senator Gredler's defense even. And, ironically, I might even actually for once save more people on a planet than I kill.
Considering the defenses I'd have to fight through to get Gredler and get out, not likely though.
"You like the pizza?" the Detective asked as she finished chewing a bite.
"Yes." I truly did.
Iraq Not Really Vietnam
No matter what Congressmoop Hagel bagel navel says, Iraq does NOT look the least little bit like Vietnam.
For crying out loud, John Kerry didn't even SERVE there (BTW).
"Hanoi Jane" Fonda hasn't manned an AAA position on a goodwill tour to the insurgents in Iraq to my knowledge.
Iraq is really dry and hot whereas Vietnam was/is WET and hot.
And there are dozens, nay, scores of other perfectly reasonable reasons why they aren't the same.
UPDATE: Fewer letters in Iraq than Vietnam also, precisely 3, countem three fewer.
The Situation in Iraq May Have a Soft, Muddy Surface
There are some who say that the situation in Iraq is a quagmire. I don't know how many people know what a quagmire is, though, and whether that is most accurate. A quagmire is land with a soft muddy surface. It's not like you'd fear death to walk through a quagmire; instead, it's more like, "Eww, I don't want to step in that quagmire with these new boots." If the situation in Iraq is a quagmire, that's icky, but not dire. Now, hopefully it's actually a marsh which is an area of soft, wet, low-lying land, characterized by grassy vegetation and often forming a transition zone between water and land. That would mean we are in a transitional phase.
But does the situation in Iraq remind you more of an acidic substrate and peat moss? Then it might be a bog. Though it also might be a fen or a mire (a quagmire sans the quag) - which are similar to marshes and bogs. Once again, these aren't pleasant, but I think we can still manage in Iraq if it's a fen.
Now, it could be a morass, but that's just an area of low-lying, soggy ground - completely manageable. I know what might be concerning you, though: What if Iraq is a swamp? Well, a swamp is a seasonally flooded bottomland with more woody plants than a marsh and better drainage than a bog. Did you get that? More woody plants than a marsh and better drainage than a bog. That doesn't sound bad at all, except I know the swamps here in Florida tend to have snakes and alligators - nothing an M-16 can't handle, though. So I wouldn't worry too much if Iraq is a swamp. If it's a slough, that's just a stagnant swamp, so also no worries.
What I fear, though, is if the situation in Iraq becomes a muskeg. A muskeg is like a swamp or a bog but with sphagnum moss. See, I don't know what sphagnum moss is, and I fear the unknown.
But, whether people come to agree that Iraq is a quagmire, marsh, bog, fen, mire, morass, swamp, slough, or muskeg, it's pretty clear you don't want to go treading through Iraq and then into the house, because your mom will yell at you for the mud or other wet stuff you'll get all over the floor. Still, I recommend that the Bush administration call Iraq a wetland which is exactly the same as a swamp but sounds better (that's why environmentalist came up with the name; "Save the wetlands!" sounds much better than "Save the swamps!"). If people think that the situation in Iraq is a wetland, they'll be like, "Oh, that sounds pretty."
I hope you found this educational and now have a better understanding of Iraq.
"I don't have a problem; you're the one with a problem!"
So once sayeth a drunken roommate from college for whom I stayed up all night making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit while he slept.
First, I keep seeing the humorless left saying how conservatives aren't humorous, and then I'm always seeing the angry left saying how they aren't angry, conservatives are. Take, for example, Daily "Screw 'em!" Kos. This one I find even harder to understand, because how can you be as angry as Kos and the average DU poster and not know it? I mean, you can practically see the spittle on the screen when these guys write.
When I'm angry, I know it (though I may sit silently and assert, "I'm not angry!"; I learned passive-aggressiveness from my father). What's wrong with the left? Do they have some mental disease where they can’t recognize their own emotions? Do they need pills? Who isn't giving them their pills? I don't want to second-guess their doctors, but maybe they aren't on the right dosage. Give them more pills.
An Appeal to the President
Considering the state of affairs in Iraq and our own country, I IMPLORE you, Mr. President, to punch Senator Hagel square in the face. My brother is currently risking his life in Iraq, and his sacrifice demands that you curl your hand into a fist and move it at great speed into Hagel's big fat mouth. These are serious days, and they call for Hagel to by lying on the ground seriously bleeding. As the leader of this nation and the Republican Party, punching Senator Hagel is both your duty and your privelege.
Ramblings as I Drink My First Cup of Coffee Today
Hey, sportsfans. Haven't paid much attention to the news or done any internet surfing since Thursday, so let me catch up on things. Seems the other bloggers did a good job of bringing in the traffic while I was resting, though (well, playing Donkey Konga takes some physical exertion).
Oh, and I won't be able to hear the podcast until late in the day when I get back from work, so please tell me if it's any good when it's made available. Also, while we have some idea for the next podcast, any theme suggestions would be appreciated.
Oh, and should IMAO have more cat picture? Because I keep seeing my kitten and thinking, "I should take more pictures of her and post it on the blog. Everyone would love that." I just don't think I have the style of Lair in cat-blogging.
Notice how cats want to kill anything smaller than them? Another reason I don't want lions introduced to North America.
Guess what I had in my work mailbox? Patent junk mail. Yes, junk mail just for people with patents. That's kinda exclusive. Like, I've gotten junk mail for CCW holders (aren't records of who has CCWs supposed to be sealed?), but this make me feel like I'm on an even more special junk mail list. I wonder if there is junk mail just for Nobel Prize winners? I guess there's one way to find out, but I never liked chemistry and I'm just not murderous enough for a peace prize.
Updates to IMAO Podcast website
It's Monday and that means there will be a new IMAO Podcast some time today!
For our regular listeners, this week's episode of IMAO audio goodness is our "Back to School" special. If you're new to the site or don't know what a podcast is (a podcast is an audio file you can download to your computer or listen to on a portable media player that plays MP3s... you do NOT have to purchase an overpriced Apple iPod just to listen to a podcast), you can get all the answers at our IMAO Podcast website.
August 21, 2005
Fun Facts About Idaho: The Director's Cut
The version on the IMAO podcast (#12) was cut here & there for time & quality reasons.
My unsullied and divinely inspired artistic vision appears in the extended entry...
Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.
This week, we're taking a spud-tastic trip to Idaho, so let's get started...
Idaho became the 43rd state on July 3rd, 1890, despite objections from Illinois, Indiana, and Iowa that there were already too many states beginning with the letter "I".
Gutzon Borglum, the sculptor of Mount Rushmore, was born in Bear Lake, Idaho. He did his famous work in South Dakota after ruining every mountain in Idaho trying to get Washington's nose just right.
Idaho has only one radio station, but since all the surrounding mountains ruin the reception, it has only a handful of listeners. Although this may also be because it carries Air America.
Idaho is America's largest lumber producer and the only state in the US with a National Forest consisting entirely of stumps.
The word "Idaho" comes from the Crow Indian word, "E-dah-how", meaning "Is there ANY month when it doesn't snow around here?"
The tourism motto of Idaho is "Cold and boring like Canada, except with more gun-crazed right-wing militias".
The state tree of Idaho is the stump.
Because of the long distances between cities in Idaho, most trucks carry an emergency Hyundai in the glove compartment.
If your Hyundai doesn't work and you become stranded in Idaho, it's traditional to wait three hours before resorting to cannibalism.
Idaho is home to numerous private militias, which, like their revolutionary forefathers, have orders to shoot anyone wearing a red coat.
Idaho state law requires all registered Democrats to wear a red coat to the polls on election day.
Hell's Canyon in Idaho is 7900 feet deep, which makes it both deeper than the Grand Canyon AND a great place to throw registered Democrats after election day.
Although normally a peaceful city, Boise, Idaho occasionally erupts with violent gunfights between rival gangs of skiers and snowboarders.
The state bird of Idaho is the Bluebird, a shameful choice which clearly discriminates against the colorblind.
Elk River, Idaho is home to the states largest tree. At nearly 200 feet tall, it's estimated that this single tree contains enough wood to build a chair capable of supporting Michael Moore.
In Idaho, it's illegal to give someone a box of candy weighing more than 50 pounds, which is why Rosie O'Donnell will never play the Boise Improv.
Well, that, and she'd end up in Hell's Canyon after election day.
Idaho is home to North America's largest sand dune. It's 470 feet tall, and is visited annually by over 1 million stray cats looking for a place to pee.
Appaloosa horses originated in Idaho and were first bred by the local Indians as a war animal. Today, this hearty breed is still highly prized for its thick armor plating.
The largest diamond ever found in the US was a 20-carat stone discovered in McCall, Idaho, which then changed its name to Bling City.
Being a large but sparsely populated state, land is incredibly cheap in Idaho. However, due to high transportation costs for lumber, you can't afford to build a house on your property unless you make it out of potatoes.
The first nuclear power plant in the US was built in Arco, Idaho in 1953, but was destroyed in 1955 by giant mutant sheep.
Arco is now known as the "Radioactive sweater capital of the world".
The firefighting ax was invented in Wallace, Idaho after giant mutant sheep drank the town's entire water supply.
Beaver Canyon, near the city of Spencer, Idaho, is rumored to be the site of a huge fortune in buried treasure. No one has found it yet because they're too busy giggling at the canyon's name to search for it.
In 1925, the entire city of American Falls, Idaho was moved to make way for the American Falls Dam. The dam itself was recently moved to make way for a Wal-Mart.
Thanks for the Kelo decision, Supreme Court!
Television was invented in Rigby, Idaho, which may explain the city's frighteningly low scores on standardized tests.
In 1896, Butch Cassidy robbed the bank in Montpelier, Idaho, after being screwed out of his free tote bag when he opened a checking account there.
Idaho law forbids children from deliberately stepping on ants. The kids don't mind too much, however, since pistol-whipping them is still legal.
That wraps up the Idaho edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week we're off to the Land of Lincoln for a look at Illinois.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pistol-whip some ants.
[The complete e-book version of "Fun Facts About the 50 States" is now available at Amazon.com. If you don't have a Kindle, you can download free Kindle apps for your web browser, smartphone, computer, or tablet from Amazon.com]
looks like trouble . . .
August 20, 2005
Just in case you're keeping score:
Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
Every time you blame a fart on the dog, a devil gets his horns.
Every time a car horn honks, a vampire gets his fangs.
Every time a refinery explodes, a ghost gets his chains.
Every time Michael Moore eats, a mummy gets his bandages.
Feel free to add your own in the comments.
What kind of space program do we have when the launch schedule is on permanent standby, but the darned thing still manages to get delayed due to inclement weather?
It's high time that we had our own space program here at IMAO.
If only we had a money we could test the rockets on. You know, a monkey we could shoot into space. A kind of "space monkey" as it were.
I guess Frank's cat Sydney will have to do. Cats love space.
August 19, 2005
The Life and Times of Instapundit
I heard a rumor that Glenn Reynolds was writing his biography.
Apparently I was slightly misinformed.
Instead of cranking out some 957-page pile of blathering crap, he managed to condense his life into a single song.
And thanks to a little bit of covert hackery, I've managed to obtain a copy of his little ditty WEEKS before it hits iTunes.
SYMPATHY FOR GLENN REYNOLDS
Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of hits and links Always been atop the blogosphere Even though my writing stinks Got the power when I gave my soul To Satan for a trade All I needed was a hobo In which to stick my blade Pleased you linked me I am NUMBER ONE! But what’s puzzling you Is how I get it done I strolled around old Shanghai Arm in arm with Chairman Mao He wanted a commie dictatorship I said I'd show him how I was the skank Who grabbed a puppy's flank Made the blender whirr Then the dog I drank. Pleased you linked me I am NUMBER ONE, oh yeah Ah, what’s puzzling you Is how I get it done, oh yeah I danced with glee Robot style, you see Twitching my flat butt And my flabby gut I shouted out, I'm gonna punch Frank J. 'cause don't you think He looks a little gay? Let me please introduce myself I’m a man of hits and links And I like penguin pornography It's just one of my little kinks Pleased you linked me I am NUMBER ONE, oh yeah But what’s puzzling you Is how I get it done, oh yeah, link me, baby Pleased you linked me I'm still NUMBER ONE, oh yeah But what’s confusing you Is how I get it done Just as every blog wants an Instalanche And I won't give one out Ignored blogs Just call me Evil Glenn ’cause I only link Ann Althouse So if you link me Have some courtesy Bow down and kiss my ring Link all my Hmmms, Hehs, and Indeeds I'm the Ecosystem's KING! Pleased you linked me I am NUMBER ONE, um yeah But what’s puzzling you Is how I get it done, um link it, get down Blog! Blog! Oh yeah, get on down Oh yeah Oh yeah! Link me baby, 'cause I'm NUMBER ONE Link me honey, I'm so NUMBER ONE Link me baby, 'cause I'm NUMBER ONE I blog all the time, and I get it done Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Oh, yeah I'm NUMBER ONE Link me, baby, I'm NUMBER ONE Link me, sweetie, I'm NUMBER ONE Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Blog! Oh, yeah
The Face Of Grief
Warning: below the fold are images of extreme grief of an emotional nature.
See? She's just barely holding it all together. Will she ever EVER wrest from the sands of time a moment of less than utter total grief? Heartbreaking. No, devastating. She needs a distraction from her grieving. Perhaps a cause or something.
Look closely at this picture. It almost looks like... wait did she stop crying and demanding to speak with W for just a moment? Maybe the president agreed to see her! Hard to tell with all those teeth of grief reflecting all that light.
The army of anti-war patriots at her side are so affected by Cindy's grief they have just let themselves go, not caring for facial neatness. Note how the one patriot's shirt, he seems to be saying. "ITS A QUAGMIRE, MAN", "CINDY IS GRIEVING, BRO!" and "DUDE, GOT ANY CHEESY FRIES?." Look in his left hand. Why, his constant empathy tears must have caused him to need his glaucoma medication.
Let us all just hope President Bush will meet with her. Again.
Then perhaps he can give her a gift. Perhaps give her the gift of happiness back. Again.
One can only hope. The woman is obviously holding on by a thread.
The other one which was hosted here on IMAO.us will no longer be updated. So make sure to get your subscription right so you can get the new podcast when it appears Monday morning.
It's a Gas Gas Gas.
With the price of gasolne higher than your average liberal's opinion of himself, I have deemed today as good a time as any to drag out and rewrite an old relevant post. I (re)present the:
Top Ten (revised) things that can help stretch your gasoline budget.
10) Learn astral projection. It's just like being there with out all the actually being there.
9) Take a lesson from NASCAR and draft as much as possible. (No, Rep. Rangel, not that draft)
8) Be uphill from everywhere you want to go. So you can just coast.
7) Three things: Siphon hose, gas can, and cover of night. You do the math.
6) Apply for and get job as Ted Kennedy's (designated) driver, run errands while he's passed out.
5) Always drive the speed limit. Speeding not only burns more gas, it can seriously get your Commie Italian rear end shot at/up.
4) Instead of the fine gasoline you normally use, fill up with dark, rich, sparkling Folger's crystals and see if your car can tell the difference.
3) Get from place to place using roller blades and a water ski tow rope. Have your geeky brother tow you into town behind his minibike.
2) Get the eco-friendly utopia converter kit that the hippies use so your car will run on moonbeams, butterfly kisses, and B. O. (that's right, now you know)
And the number one thing that can help stretch your gasoline budget....
Agree to meet with any anti-war pro-terror-sters who are thronging outside any randomly selected Crawford, TX ranch and politely convert them into bio-diesel.
recommended reading . . .
the wonderful ann coulter knocks it out of the park on cindy sheehan -- definitely worth a read
Air America and the NYT
I was reading Captain’s Quarters Blog where the Captain has a great post on the NY Times and their excuses for not covering the Air America scandal. With all due respect, Captain Ed isn’t as good at that “research” stuff as I am, so I did some true IMAO news investigating and discovered…
The Top Reasons the New York Times has not Covered the Air America Scandal.
10. They were planning on running it as a correction on page 26.
9. Big deal. The kids at the Boys and Girls Club would have spent the money on drugs anyway.
8. The story was pushed by right wing blogs. Couldn’t figure out if coverage should come from the department reporters at Tech or at Religion.
7. NYT reporters got carried away singing songs at Camp Casey.
6. Sincerely believed that Air America was that shoe by Michael Jordan.
5. Staff too busy figuring out that darn crossword puzzle.
4. Staffing is light due to gay honeymoons.
3. Needed to make sure the story was valid - was waiting for it to be covered by Air America.
2. No information to dig up: attended AA meeting after AA meeting after…
1. Couldn’t find a way to work in the words “illegal war” or “quagmire”
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Live, via webcam, Frisky poses:
If you're not sure how this tranquil scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Frisky is sitting on the roof of a synagogue in the Gaza town of Neve Dekalim and repared to attack any evacuation policeman or soldier with his teeth, claws, or flaming cat-toys to defend his homeland.
Plus, he's orange.
(For more animal goodness, try The Friday Ark)
August 18, 2005
Japanese company Artificial Life recently announced that it was releasing version 2.0 of V-Girl. A massive hit in Asian countries, V-Girl involves a synthetic girlfriend with routines the player watches and becomes involved in. There is an ever-evolving daily and weekly schedule which includes visiting your V-Girl's virtual home, work or bar, and shopping with her virtual girlfriends.
That gave me a brilliant idea--why not apply this concept to our very own SarahK! With SarahK coming off the market in December, this is the only way that her mountaineermusing and IMAO fans can partake of the authentic "SarahK experience." The IMAO crew has been working day and night to write the code for V-SarahK, and we are finally ready with our beta release. So, get ready to walk a mile in FrankJ's shoes, for I give you . . .
One for the History books... until they're burned by command of our Caliphate masters
By the way...
At Neve Dekalim, troops wrestled for hours against some 1,500 extremists making their last stand inside Gaza's largest synagogue. Protesters lay on the floor with their arms linked, kicking against the Israeli forces while supporters held their shoulders in a tug-of-war.
The phrases "Gaza synagogue" and "Gaza's largest synagogue" are phrases you'll most likely never hear again after this month.
A bump in the Roadmap
A bus overturned in Tel Aviv after hitting a traffic island, hurting 30 children.
Thirty children sustained light injuries when a bus overturned at the Morasha Juncion, outside Tel Aviv, on Thursday afternoon.
According to Palestinian Authority Television, the martyred traffic island will be honored with parades in Jenin and Ramallah tomorrow morning, and its spirit is currently enjoying an eternity in Paradise with seventy-two buckets of wet cement.
Got this in a forwarded e-mail, and thought it was funny enough to share (though I can only assume about everyone has seen it already):
ONE-POINT OFFICE DARES
FIVE POINT DARES
And if that wasn't enough for you... How to keep a healthy level of insanity:
And the final way to keep a healthy level of insanity....
19) Send this to everyone in your address book, even if they sent it to you or have asked you not to send them stuff like this.
Carnival Of Comedy: Sweet 16 at .5
Missing your monkey/badger/cowbell fix for the week? Sweet tooth bothering you? Need a good hearty laugh?
Then you need to RUN, not walk nor trot nor trapse nor saunter, RUN, well technically, CLICK to see the new Carnival of Comedy baked up fresh over at the Point Five Blog.
Evil Emperor Mindstation shows that hosting the Carnival of Comedy isn't hard. It's a piece of cake.
Holy Insane Environmentalists, Batman!
Just when you thought crazy people couldn't more crazy, they come out with even more crazy ideas.
To save species like the elephants and lions, some scientists want to transplant them here, to North America.
Yeah, that's right; let them roam wild.
Now, as amusing as it may be to watch from my window golfers fleeing from a charging elephant, what if the elephant comes crashing through my wall? Does my insurance cover that?
And I already have alligators and sharks to deal with in Florida; are people really going to add lions to the mix? I mean, when my kitten, Sydney, bites me, that hurts enough. A lions gotta be even ten times more painful!
And you know what happens when new species are introduced to a foreign ecosystem: the animals often over breeds from a lack of natural predators. Is the alligator going to take down an elephant? The common fox? Even the few packs of wolves we have left wouldn't dare touch one. We'll be overrun with elephants until they're worse than pigeons. And, I do not have a carry gun that could take down an angry elephant.
Sorry, but we American are just to used to animals like squirrels and deer - cute fuzzy animals who can't hurt us but we occasionally run over. Adding a beast to the mix that can run us over is just a little too interesting.
News Straight from the Fish's Mouth
Being underwater most of the time (I can breathe underwater), I don't get the same news coverage. Luckily, I can talk to fish. Thus, through them, I keep informed. To help out, here's the current news in brief:
* In London, if your skin is dark, they will shoot you multiple times in the head. I recommend vacationing elsewhere if you have a heavy tan.
* President Bush is having his annual vacation with crawfish - I never knew he was a friend of water-breathers! Also, I keep hearing there is some sort of circus near where he is staying. What a fun vacation!
* Israel has turned anti-Semitic and are now evicting Jews! They have they're work cut out for them, though, because I hear the place is full of them.
* Apparently, before the 9/11 attacks, Mohammed Atta and a supervillian named Abe Danger were identified as terrorists, but lawyers prevented the information from being passed along. Luckily, we don't have lawyers here in the sea. The closest thing we have are sharks! Ha ha ha!
That's all the news for now, and I've finished drinking my latte at this internet cafe.
Remember, I talk to fish so you don't have to.
This is Aquaman, signing off.
Whoops. The Puppy Blender linked to the new Carnival of Podcasts before I did. Now what would have been a big traffic burst from IMAO is just a few drops in the sea.
We really need another name than podcasts, BTW. They're just plain MP3s, but, because of the name, everyone has it in their head they're something much more complicated (that's what I thought when Scott McCollum first suggested doing a podcast).
Next week is our back to school podcast, and it's already shaping up to be a great one.
Oh, and here are some samples from the superhero themed podcast if you haven't heard the whole thing yet:
August 17, 2005
Campaign Slogans for Running Against Hillary
Recently Jeanine Pirro announced her intention to run for Hillary Clinton's Senate seat in 2006. As a patriotic American, I feel it's my duty to support her by offering the following suggestions for campaign slogans:
"Pirro 2006: Her husband may have cheated on his taxes, but at least he didn't cheat on her with a chubby intern."
"Pirro 2006: She won't dance around the issues."
"Pirro 2006: Never lost a billing record."
"Pirro 2006: Leaving cattle futures to the cowboys."
"Pirro 2006: Her other car ISN'T a broom."
"Pirro 2006: Because sometimes it's just WRONG to wear a bikini"
Feel free to show your patriotism in the comments.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 13 - Sticking Out
My leg was stiff, and, to add to it, the air whistling through the entrance and exit bullet holes on my pants' leg was a bit annoying. Still, I stumbled quickly through the streets to get back to my hotel room to get some unperforated pants among other things. There wasn't time to waste.
I casually looked around to make sure I wasn't being followed - maybe a little paranoid but I'd just call it cautious. I then clicked on my communicator. "Dip, I need you to find any juicy rumors about Senator Gredler that are circulating."
"Interesting. You usually don't care much about who you are contracted to kill."
"Well, this one was different to begin with and getting... more different."
"I have information about Diane Thompson if you want it."
"Yeah. Read off to me the main points."
"Where is she from, how old is she, long as she been in the police force, any cases she has worked on that stick out..."
"Stick out how?"
"Arrested someone of a high profile, any shoot outs. Dip, can't you figure out what data sticks out?" The sentients I passed by didn't pay me any attention; it's common for people to walk around talking to no one. It's really hard to act insane enough for people to notice in a modern city.
"She is from Nar Valdum city. She is thirty-four years old. She has been a part of the police for more than twelve years, and she has been involved in four shootouts I have found out about. Killed a sentient in one, killed one sentient and wounded a second in another. Inflicted no injuries in the others, but received a bullet to the shoulder in one while her partner was shot multiple times and killed."
Hadn't seen her with a partner. "How long ago was that?"
"About two years. The assailants were caught and are currently serving life sentences in prison."
Wow. Dip answered my next question before I could ask it. Maybe he was getting smarter. "Send me all her case data so I can look over it."
"There is something else that seems to stand out though it does not have to do with her police work, Rico."
"When she was thirteen, her parents were murdered in front of her."
I couldn't help but smile. "Now that's juicy. Tell me more."
"Suspects were never caught. Suspicion they were killed on the orders of the Randatti criminal syndicate. They are the rival of your employers, correct?"
I ignored the question; this was just too good. "Send me all the information on that." I figured I'd be spending all my time in my hotel room reading until my date with the emotionally scarred detective with a long time chip on her shoulder. "Good find, Dip. Having one's parent killed in front of you tends to be a defining moment."
"Were your parents killed in front of you, Rico?"
"One of them." Whoops.
"Did you kill that parent?"
I just laughed. "I'm starting to like you, Dip."
"I am glad, Rico. I have some new conclusions to ask you about."
"Don't have time for it, Dip. Too much going on with this job. Come to think of it, I have another task for you. Keep watch for mentions of an assassination attempt on Senator Gredler... outside of a terrorist attack, that is. You'll probably have to hack into some official channels for it."
"Are you suspected, Rico?"
"They seem to know something is coming."
"I will need to factor that into the probability of escape plans being successful."
"Yes you will." Didn't look like this was going to be a run in, shoot everybody, and run away type of job... not if I cared to live.
Which I do.
"Rico, why the interest in the detective? Based on data of celebrities known to be attractive, I have given Diane Thompson a 78% chance of being considered attractive."
"Thanks, but I think I can determine that myself." Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw someone watching me. I really did not like this situation I had been put in. Not having any weapons really made it worse, but I was almost to my hotel. "I'm meeting her for dinner, Dip."
"Since they may be looking for an assassin, is it safe to have close contact with a police officer?"
"Not for her."
Time to Make August Exciting... Politically!
Man, it's rough for us pundits (or those of us who play pundit on the internet). August is always the most boring month politically... and this is an off-year! No big elections for over a year! I mean, we're really grasping at straws for something to talk about.
Does it have to be this way, though? How about we have a few special things happen on August on every odd-numbered year to make it the most exciting time politically outside of a presidential election. Isn't that a great idea?
Of course it is!
Here are my suggestions:
IDEAS FOR MAKING AUGUST THE MOST EXCITING MONTH IN POLITICS
* Random Special Governor Election! Look at the surprise of one governor as he is randomly picked to have a special election in one month! Watch as the other party scrambles to get a candidate! Excitement!
* Politics for the Pretty! Have a special Miss USA contest where the winner gets an extra Congressman and electoral vote for her state. The swimsuit competition could determine the future of our country!
* Paintball! Paintball game between Republican and Democrat Senators. Winning side gets ten extra one-time votes to use on any bill or bills they want. Your Senator better have dead aim, because you never know when those surprise votes could turn the tide!
* Wheel... of... War! A wheel is spun with a list of countries we don't like. Whoever the wheel picks gets a barrage of cruise missiles. Will they just sit back and take it, or will they strike back? Such excitement as we wait to find out! If the wheel lands on "Bankrupt," nothing happens because we're already hugely in debt.
* Monkey Congressman! A monkey is dressed in a suit and added to congress. Will he vote randomly, or can one party tempt him with bananas to vote as they want him to?
* Get Out of Supreme Court Free Card! The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court will set out a jar of jellybeans. Whichever politician comes closest to guessing how many jellybeans are in the jar will be able to have any case he or she wants automatically thrown out of the Supreme Court!
* Bribes Are Legal Tuesday! Only on the first Tuesday in August, it's legal to bribe your Congressman. Better rush to the bank!
* Battle to the Death! One Republican and one Democrats congressman are picked at random to fight to the death. Even more exciting than the blood-letting will be the pundits speculating weeks ahead on how the shift in power in Congress based on who wins will affect political posturing!
See, with just a little ingenuity, August on off-years can become "Political Fun Month!" Yay!
News Update: Diddy Dropping P For Less Fortunate
Rapper Sean Combs, previously known as Puff Daddy and more recently P Diddy is dropping the 'P'. Combs, 35, contends that this name change is not merely an effort to get his face back in the public eye to promote his music career, clothing line, various restaurants and television ventures. He says: "I'm not just about about making money. I'm dropping the P to help the less fortunate. For the renally challenged, to help them check their blood or whatever. You know."
A press release issued by Bad Boy Records reveals the dropped P is intended to be used to power medical devices containing a special battery recently developed to run on human 'p'.
Could yet another name change could be in the future for Diddy? Perhaps so, says the artist, "If they make something that runs on diddy, then I'll probably drop that too."
A Great Post at the Huffington Post
Not by Gutfeld! And it was on the frontpage!
UPDATE: Duh. I've seen this guy before. He's a Philadelphia talk show host who has IMAO on the blog links section of his webpage. Just goes to show you that reading IMAO make you smart and articulate... despite my own grammar problems.
Here are some worthy charities you may want to consider sending your hard-earned dollars to:
Thank you, and moo.
God Bless and Watch Over the Chosen People
This morning, FOX and Friends went live to Israeli soldiers knocking down the door of some settlers. There wasn't a violent confrontation inside, just lots of crying. They had stayed their 32 years as the Palestinians shelled them. They had lost a son to that violence. All that strength in the face of adversity, and now their government was evicting them.
The mother cried, "Is there anyone in the world who cares what is happening to us?" The Israeli settlers had been lambasted by about every country in the world, and now, their only supporters, their fellow Jews, had turned against them.
America seems to be Israelis only friend in this world, but they deserve a better one.
UPDATE: Ariel Sharon: "Attack me, I am responsible for this, attack me, accuse me, don't attack the men and women in uniform."
August 16, 2005
What's Mine Is Mine
Super Fantastic Carnival Reminder
Hey sportsfans! The Carnival of Comedy is coming up Thursday, Aug 18th! Awwwwwww freak out!
A4g will be hosting the carnival at Point Five for Week 16 on Aug. 18. Will joy return to mudville? Can the ROF be put back in the ROFL?
Want to host? Want to Prove Mithras has
Still have questions?
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 12 - Suspicion
"Not watching the news?" Detective Thompson was looking towards the TV where two lizard-like delpings were getting it on.
I turned the TV off; it would take my full concentration to pull off this act. "No. Too much speculation right after these things happens. I'd rather wait a while then find the facts."
"So you watch nature shows instead?" she smiled, either interested or feigning interest. She was pretty - that was for sure - though her clothing was pretty functional and only vaguely feminine. Only thing outwardly threatening about her was her blue eyes - I could tell they were hard at work assessing me. And I would guess she's killed in the line of duty - or at least been in numerous gunfights.
Yes, I can sorta tell that from someone's eyes. Hey, I'm an expert on killing.
I figured I might as well use the truth when I could to keep things less complicated. "Yeah, I love learning about new animals. So many different animals on so many different planets, yet each one has something unique to it." That seemed like some good banter, but something tragic happened and I needed to act concerned. "So... uh... how bad was it?"
"Eleven dead." I could see a little fire in her eyes. "About three times that many injured."
"At least they were using bullet weapons," I observed, "Could have been a lot worse."
She came a little closer, and I could now smell her perfume. Made me wonder if she put thought into what kinds and how much perfume you could wear and still be intimidating when interrogating a suspect. "Like with your firearm?" she asked. Okay, she was suspicious of me. Nothing to panic about.
"Don't think I'd be alive today if I didn't have that stopping power." That was the truth. "Never seen anyone take a bolt anywhere to the body and not drop." Expensive gun, if I were just a cop. "Any chance I'll be getting it back?" I only own eight others. I wondered what gun she preferred. It must have been small, because I couldn’t see any bulge in her coat. It was obviously under her right arm from the way she folded her arms. That made her left handed.
"We'll see. It was illegal for you have it here, Rico. That's your name, right?"
"Yeah, just Rico. Officer Rico of Rikar, to be precise." Used my affable smile, but a more subdued version. "Sorry about that, but I never pay attention to gun laws when going to new planets. Figure if I have to draw and reveal I'm armed, it's better to be arrested than dead." Common line I've heard from pro-gun sentients.
"Can't blame you - certainly under these circumstances. I can probably get your gun back when you’re leaving the city. How much longer are you going to be in the hospital?"
"Should just be an hour or two."
"You set up somewhere?"
"Yeah." Please don't ask me where.
"Where you staying?"
"The Lux." I didn't know I was going to pretend to be a cop when I got my hotel.
"That's a nice place," she chuckled, "You're really living it up."
I smiled wryly. "I treat myself every now and then. You invest your money wisely, you can save up a bit on a police officer's salary... even without being crooked." I laughed at my lame joke, and she did too. Good.
"I don't think you'll find this conference too worthwhile, though. These always end with a lot of bickering between all the different species."
"What would you want to happen, Detective?"
"Just some more treaties between planets," she said, looking like she felt quite strongly on the issue. "Someone commits a crime here and get off planet, that's it! We can't follow him. If someone wants justice, he has to go to a bounty hunter - and they certainly aren't the most honest type."
I shook my head. "Yeah, I dealt with more than a few of those types." I sorta am one - more of a bounty killer than a bounty hunter, though.
"Anyway, Officer Rico, sorry about your experience here on Nar Valdum so far; certainly doesn't make for a great vacation. I want to thank you again for what you did, though."
"Someone had to. You expect more attacks like that?"
"We weren't, but now we are. We initially thought the terrorists were plotting for the main event when Senator Gredler arrives, but it seems they're happy to do some killing beforehand to scare people away."
"Still expect an attack at the main event, though?"
She smiled. "They'd have to be pretty dumb to try. Security is so tight, I don't see how they could do anything. Everything has been increased to accommodate Senator Gredler, especially after we got some chatter about a possible assassination attempt."
It took some force of will to not look startled, and I could tell the Detective was looking for my reaction. I hope she was just this naturally suspicious of everyone. "Why assassinate that guy?"
She shrugged her shoulders. She was hiding something, though. Seemed like I should be finding out what.
"So what are your plans for the rest of the day?" she asked. More suspicion.
"Get something to eat. My face isn't all over the news, right?"
"A few people involved talked to reporters about what happened, but no one has identified you. By the way, if you want some good food, I know just the place. I get off in a couple hours, and it will be my treat. Least I can do for the hero."
I smiled, trying to not reveal how much was going on in my head right now. "Sounds good."
So my hit was starting to look like a suicide mission, and the best option I seemed to have was getting close to a Detective who was apparently suspecting me of being a hitman. This was going to be an interesting "vacation."
Get well soon, Madonna
Madonna was hospitalized today, having broken several bones in a horse riding accident.
The superstar was hospitalized with three cracked ribs, a broken collarbone and a broken hand, according to Liz Rosenberg, her spokeswoman based in New York.
No word yet whether she was riding the horse or the horse was riding her.
Also, her husband Guy Ritchie was credited for taking her to the hospital, although later he managed to petition the DGA to have the credit for the hasty trip to the hospital transfered to Alan Smithee.
Better get out a Star of David patch Laurence . . .
Hi, my name is Sandy Sheethead, Grand High Wizard of the Hazzard County KKK, and new IMAO guest blogger. I'm coming to you today promote my latest foray into the political system. I have organized a rally outside of President Bush's ranch down in Crawford, Texas to protest the illegal and immoral enforcement of civil rights for Blacks, Jews, and other inferior races. My protest is headquarted at what has come to be known as "Camp Sheethead" (I call it a "camp" even though I actually stay at a local hotel when the media isn't around). My aim is to force President Bush into meeting me so I can lecture him about Aryan rights and the misguided policies of the Civil Rights movement. Me and several hundred other Klan sympathizers sing songs, chant, and hold press conferences. We've also set up nearly 2000 burning crosses (one for each month since we lost the War of Northern Agression) to underscore our message. Since we have nearly twice as many protestors as Cindy Sheehan has, I figure we must be twice as reflective of public opinion as she is. I mean, its not like you can get 100 people together to protest about something that only appeals to the kookiest fringe of American society. In the face of our massive 200 person protest, I expect that President Bush will see the error of his ways, repeal the offending portions of the Constituation, and set up some concentration camps. Now where did Brian Williams wander off to . . .
Fit For A King
According to CNN, Yoko Ono has been hospitaliz-
What? It's not Ono? Okay, then it's Courtney Love.
Not Courtney Love? Fine. Then it's... um... Imelda Marcos? Suha Arafat? Cory Aquino? Nancy Reagan?
Aha! I know! Anna Nicole Smith!
Man, it's so hard to keep Professional Widows apart these days.
The Greatest Terrorist Threat
Some infants have been stopped from boarding planes because their names have been the same or similar to that of terrorists. The parents then had to produce passports to prove their babies were not terrorists. Some say this is ridiculous and babies should not be scrutinized as terrorists.
I say that this is the CRAZIEST IDEA IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND! ...or at least since 204 B.C. (I forgot who said what then, but I remember it was PRETTY CRAZY!).
If babies are giving a free pass, then won't terrorists just try to recruit babies for their missions of terror?
Of course they will! And it will be easy too, because NO ONE IS MORE SUSCEPTIBLE TO BRAIN WASHING THAN A BABY!
Since babies know very little, they easily take in whatever is told them, which would include MURDEROUS RADICAL ISLAMIC IDEALS!
Even more disturbing about babies is that they HAVE NO CONCEPT RIGHT OR WRONG!
Luckily, God, in His infinite wisdom, gave babies little physical ability, because, if they could, THEY WOULD KILL YOU AND EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT FOR A BA-BA!
Terrorists could give them this ability!
If we were smart, we would TREAT ALL BABIES AS POTENTIAL TERRORISTS!
Babies should be locked in a bomb-proof container in the cargo hold of an airplane. This container should also be soundproof. I AM NOT JUST SAYING THIS BECAUSE I HATE CRYING BABIES ON AIRPLANES!
This is a national security issue.
New PETA slogan?
"I'd rather be caught dead than eat non-lab-grown meat."
August 16, 2005 Experiments for NASA space missions have shown that small amounts of edible meat can be created in a lab. But the technology that could grow chicken nuggets without the chicken, on a large scale, may not be just a science fiction fantasy. In a recent paper in the Tissue Engineering journal, a team of scientists has proposed two new techniques of tissue engineering that may one day lead to affordable production of in vitro - lab grown - meat for human consumption. It is the first peer-reviewed discussion of the prospects for industrial production of cultured meat. "There would be a lot of benefits from cultured meat," says University of Maryland doctoral student Jason Matheny, who studies agricultural economics and public health. "For one thing, you could control the nutrients. For example, most meats are high in the fatty acid Omega 6, which can cause high cholesterol and other health problems. With in vitro meat, you could replace that with Omega 3, which is a healthy fat. "Cultured meat could also reduce the pollution that results from raising livestock, and you wouldn't need the drugs that are used on animals raised for meat."
The Blogosphere Is Able to Make Stories News... But Are We Also Able to Make them Go Away?
I saw Cindy Sheehan finally asked the question I've been wondering: Why does she think she deserves a second meeting with the President of the United States? She dodged it artfully - like a skilled politician - saying she had answered it in previous interviews and said the reporter should read those.
I had at first wondered why so many liberals were quick to jump on the Cindy Sheehan bandwagon, but I think Cadet Happy illustrates it quite well: The liberals figured they had someone who could spout all the crazed nonsense they want to get out there while being inoculated from criticism because of her grief. "She lost her son, you unfeeling bastard!" has replaced "Chickenhawk!" as a way for liberals to avoid arguing on the facts. But what's to gain from this argument anyway?
It's August, and it's hard to blame the news media for jumping on this. To be honest, my ears have been perking up anytime the news has mentioned Crawford. But, it's just getting too morbid. I guess the breaking point came for me when I saw that Cindy's husband had filed for divorce. My first reaction was "Gotcha!" after she had been claiming family support for what she was doing, but then I later remembered how often parents divorce after losing a child and this was just tragedy on top of tragedy.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that Cindy Sheehan is a complete liberal loon, but she is also a grieving mother. You can't prove otherwise, and I have no interest in proving otherwise. Also, there is no real reason this story should have such national interest, and I think the puppy blender had this one right in that he pretty much ignored it (his only post on it is here).
Who we should remember and write about is Army Spc. Casey Sheehan and others like him. Sheehan not only volunteered to serve in the United States Military, he specifically volunteered to go to Iraq by re-enlisting during the conflict. We owe him a lot, maybe the least of which is pray for his mother. Yeah, I had my shots at her, but we really should just ignore this story. There are no political points worth gaining from this. I don't if the blogosphere can help get a story out of the news by collectively ignoring it (I don't remember many blog posts about Aruba - or maybe I just zoned those out), but it's worth trying. When this month is over, the whole Cindy Sheehan circus will be over, and, hopefully, the experience will be cathartic enough to allow her to move on. If not, the I pray once all the fair-weather friends have departed, there will still be some people left to support Cindy.
With Casey Sheehan, there is a story of tragedy but also one of hope and honor. With his mother, right now, there is only tragedy, and I've had my fill of it.
August 15, 2005
Hail Cindy, Mother of Peace . . .
Thou shall not question the motives or truthfullnes of Cindy Sheehan.
Thou shall not discuss Cindy Sheehan's anti-semitic rants.
Thou shall not discuss the fact that President Bush met with Cindy Sheehan soon after her son's death and she had positive things to say regarding that meeting.
Thou shall not discuss the fact that Cindy Sheehan's account of her meeting with the President has changed to fit the needs of her propagandist publicity campaign.
Thou shall not discuss the family members who are disgusted with Cindy Sheehan's actions.
Thou shall not discuss the fact that Cindy Sheehan's son supported the war in Iraq and believed in what he was doing there.
Thou shall not discuss the private interest groups funding Cindy Sheehan's publicity stunt.
Thou shall not discuss Cindy Sheehan's call to bring all troops home and essentially surrender to the terrorists.
Thou shall not discuss why the leader of the free world should meet with a publicity hungry media hound.
Thou shall not discuss the hundreds of parents of killed soldiers who support President Bush and the mission in Iraq.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 11 - Heroic
Patching my leg was a simple enough procedure. They had it held still in a regenerator, and I just had to wait an hour or so. After that, I'd be back to my full-self and ready for a killing (after getting back to my hotel room to rearm). I had a TV in the hospital room, so I flipped around the channels.
"The delping waits in the river, its gray coloration blending itself with the rocks. When prey comes into view, it strikes by kicking forward with its strong rear legs and expelling all the air in its lungs out of two reverse facing nostrils on the sides of its heads. Using this jet propulsion, with blinding speed it snatches the..."
"Rico, how are you doing?"
It was Dip talking into the hidden communicator in my ear.
"Why do you ask?"
"I saw in the news that there was violence near where you should be. Then I saw that further violence ended the initial violence. I conjectured you were involved with one of those violences based on my knowledge base about your behavior."
"Really? Which one would you think was me?"
"Usually violence you do is reflected negatively in the press, but the disliked violence involves multiple sentients, and you have always worked alone since I've known you. On the other hand, the second act of violence seems to be thought of favorably, and I've never known what you do to be thought of favorably by the general public, Rico."
"I've killed a few people the general public were happy to be gone."
"Still, it has always been looked at as criminal. This act of violence is referred to as 'heroic.'"
"I killed five murderers - preventing the death of others - and took a bullet through my leg in the process. Would you call that 'heroic,' Dip?"
That took him a second.
"I would assume you had ulterior motives, Rico."
That made me laugh. "Dip, I have another job for you. I want you to connect to any databases you can on this planet and find information on a Nar Valdum City's Detective named Diane Thompson."
"Certainly, Rico. I have progress on the previous job you assigned. I have a plan to extract you from Nar Valdum's capital which I rate as having a 20% chance of success."
"That a nice round number."
"There are many unknowns I had to assign some value to, so I went with inexact figures."
"Whatever. I need a better number that 20%."
Dip was silent again. "When calculating the chance of success, I could give a greater weight to the ship's maneuverability which would..."
"I don't mean fudge the numbers, Dip; I mean come up with a better plan."
"I will try, Rico. By the way, you never answered my initial question: How are you doing?"
I never answers his questions, something I'm sure Dip was wise to. "How do you think I'm doing?"
"You seem fine."
"Get to work. Dip."
I looked back to the TV. The mating habits of the delping was being discussed now. I don't usually find that part as informative, but I didn't have a chance to watch it either as I now had a visitor.
Putting the stroke back into the stroke of midnight
Hollywood is abuzz with the news that Dick Clark will be back hosting his New Year's Eve Show with a little help from Ryan Seacrest this year:
The longtime host of "American Bandstand" hasn't appeared on television or done interviews since his stroke. Last year, daytime talk-show host Regis Philbin stood in while Clark watched from his hospital bed.
And here I was, thinking that Regis would take over in a Crown Price Abdullah / King Fahd kind of arrangement...
"There is no Dick Clark but Dick Clark," shouted Crown Prince Regis Philbin from the dais. "Dick Clarkahu Ackbar! Bow down to the House of Al-Mouse!"
"Gurgle!" drools Dick Clark. "Gurgle!"
"Dick Al-Clark bestows his blessings upon you all!"
And then there was the possibility of "Peter Jennings' Smokin New Years Eve" until his own untimely demise this year from... um...
Here at IMAO, we're already working hard on our own New Years Eve Special:
So stay tuned... unless you want to watch some old feeb and his boy-toy yuk it up on a seven-second delay.
(DISCLAIMER: None of this will actually happen, void where prohinited by Islamic Law.)
In My World: Sheehan-igans
"Man," President Bush groaned as he looked out the window, "I try to come here to the rustic charm of my Crawford ranch so I can play X-Box all day, but instead I keep getting bothered by protestors. What do they want now? Free booze?"
"It's Cindy Sheehan and a bunch of liberals," Laura Bush answered, "She's demanding to meet with you... again."
"What!" Bush yelled, "I'm the President of the United States of America! No one demands to meet with me. Why, if Chirac did that, I'd punch him right in ugly, smelly French face!"
"Well don't punch Mrs. Sheehan," Laura told him, "She's a grieving mother."
"She is?" Bush said, now feeling bad, "Well, I guess I can talk with her then."
"Maybe you should discuss that with your staff first," Laura suggested.
"Bah! If the American people elected me president - twice - it can only be assumed I'm the smartest man on the planet. Send me Sheehan!"
* * * *
"Horrible news!" Cindy Sheehan cried to her liberal entourage, "Bush has agreed to meet with me again! He wasn’t supposed to do that! What if it diffuses this whole thing! I wanted to keep standing out here and harping on him in front of the press for as long as possible! And it's not like I can refuse to meet him now; this is a disaster!"
Michael Moore turned away from the hotdog stand to face Sheehan. "You can always say you were insulted again by him and demand a third meeting… Oh! And I have an idea! Would it be okay with you if we dug up your son's corpse and waved it around in front of Bush?"
Sheehan thought for a moment. "Do you think it's what Casey would have wanted?"
"WHY WOULD I CARE ABOUT SOME BABY-KILLER'S OPINION!!!"
* * * *
"So, Agent Smith, you think we're okay for the meeting?" Bush asked the Secret Service Agent.
"Do you want me to tackle and pummel her if she slaps you?"
"You think she'll slap me?" Bush asked, surprised.
Bush thought on that for a moment. "I'm a man; I can take a slap. No tackling or pummeling. We have press here and they'll have a field-day with that." He was silent for a few seconds, but then blurted out, "But, if she tries to stab or shoot me, maybe you should do something about that."
"Eh," Agent Smith answered, "I'll play it by ear."
Cindy Sheehan entered the room, and immediately Bush's face brightened up. "Hey! I remember you! We met before!"
"We did!" Sheehan screamed, "You were ru..."
"So, did what I tell you about getting rid of the ants work?" Bush asked, smiling.
"Well... yeah," Sheehan answered, a little thrown off, "but that's not the point..."
"I told you it would work, but you were skeptical." Bush chuckled. "So how is your husband?"
"He is very supportive of what I'm doing," Cindy asserted.
"That great!" Bush said enthusiastically, "How is the rest of the family?"
"I'm not talking to a lot of them since they voted for you in 2004!" she yelled angrily.
Bush smiled wider. "Wow, that's great to hear. Next time you see them, tell them I thank them for their support. I love my supporters."
Sheehan screamed. "Don't you understand that I hate you?!"
Bush was confused. "What? Why?"
"You murdered my son!"
Bush backed away from her. "You don't have any proof of that!" he shouted defensively, "Let's see ballistics match that bullet to any of my guns!"
"I mean he was in the Army and killed in Iraq," Sheehan said.
Bush started laughing. "Oh, now I get it. This was all just a mistake. This whole time you were blaming me for your son's death when he was actually killed by Shiites." Bush turned more serious. "If you want, I can get you a flight to Iraq so you can go yell at them."
"No!" Cindy shouted, "You murdered him by starting an unjust war based on lies!"
“I didn't lie!" Bush yelled, "There really are an Iraq and a Saddam Hussein! You can look it up!"
"No! I mean about WMDs! We know all about it from the Downing Street Memos!"
"What in the world are you talking about?" Bush asked, getting confused again.
"You and your Vice-President should be impeached! You stole you first election anyway! Now you and your neocons are making wars based on lies! You're the biggest terrorist... you and the Israelis, that is!"
Bush rolled his eyes. "Now you're bringing the Jews into this. You're just a regular left-wing nut, aren't you? No wonder you son joined the Army and went to Iraq; he was probably trying to get away from you!"
Cindy Sheehan started sobbing uncontrollably and ran out of the room. Bush then noticed the T.V. cameras. He turned to Agent Smith. "This isn't going to play well on the nightly-news, is it?"
"I only watch cable news, sir."
"Well, maybe another broad will disappear in Aruba and this story will get buried."
Agent Smith stared at President Bush for a moment. "You really are an insensitive bastard sometimes."
"Whatever; let's go play X-Box."
* * * *
Apologies to Casey Sheehan for making fun of your mother who I'm sure you love very much. You made a brave choice to put your life on the line when you re-enlisted at age 24, shortly before your death. It's because of people like you that we're able to have our blogs and our freedoms, and, while I can never repay you for your sacrifice, I will do my best to honor it throughout my life as a proud American.
Nothing better than Monday morning with a new podcast.
Anyway, I need to finish up an In My World™ for today, and, for it, I need a good link to actual Cindy Sheehan quotes (I don't want people to accuse me of making fun of her, so I want to use actual quotes for her). If you could put it in the comments, I'd be much obliged.
BTW, I thought I sent everyone who paid for them the Two Bits so far, but, if you haven't gotten them yet, tell me and I'll try to see what went wrong (not like it costs me to resend them).
NEW! Superhero-themed IMAO Podcast!
Start the week off with super-duper funny: our superhero-themed IMAO Podcast!
IMAO Podcast for August 15, 2005 features:
This IMAO Podcast is guaranteed to make you laugh and offend you at the same time, so don't be shy... share the funny using this download link with your friends and family:
If you get really offended and want to tell us off, sign in to our all-new IMAO Podcast Forum at:
In our new forum, listeners can interact with any of the IMAO Podcasters in the new forum, ask questions about past shows, get insights on upcoming shows, and generally sound off about the IMAO Podcast.
Thanks for listening and we are doing these podcasts because we know IMAO fans are the best fans on the Web!
August 14, 2005
Cindy Sheehan blames the Jews
I'd just like to say on the record that at no time did I participate in any plot to have Casey Sheehan killed.
I was too busy controlling Hollywood, manipulating Congress, setting world oil prices, altering the weather with hidden satellites, spying on everyone's public library reading habits, fixing World Cup matches, extracting blood from Muslim babies to bake bread, bringing down the Kremlin, and killing Jesus.
But, Cindy, I'm flattered you think I can multitask so effectively that I can fit just one more thing into my alread busy schedule.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to frame Spacemonkey and Frank for a numbers racket in Palm Beach.
Fun Facts About Hawaii: The Director's Cut
The version on the IMAO podcast (#11) was cut here & there for time & quality reasons.
My unsullied and divinely inspired artistic vision appears in the extended entry...
Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.
This week, grab your lei because we're going to Hawaii, so let's get started...
Hawaii became the 50th state on August 21st 1959, and is the only state in the US made up entirely of islands.
At least until California's next earthquake.
The Native Hawaiian alphabet contains only 12 letters, making it less than half as difficult to pass a sobriety test there.
Hawaii has five cities with a population over 100,000, none of which I can pronounce without hurting myself.
Contrary to the popular stereotype, not all native Hawaiians wear grass skirts and do the hula dance. Just the men.
Well, the gay ones, anyway.
Hawaii is home to numerous species of beautifully colored butterflies. Unfortunately, they have a taste for human eyeballs, so you probably shouldn't look at them.
Hawaii has no bridges connecting its islands, but if it did, Ted Kennedy would still drive into the water.
Native Hawaiians all have dark skin, straight black hair, and brown eyes. Sorta like Mexicans, except without the "sneaking across the border" part.
Most Dole pineapples are grown in Hawaii, and should NOT be confused with former Senator Bob Dole, since most pineapples could beat Bill Clinton in a Presidential election.
Hawaiian pineapples also refrain from referring to themselves in the third person.
Despite the impression given by the TV show "Magnum, P.I.", most Hawaiians don't have the same moustache as Saddam Hussein.
However, I hear the John Bolton look is becoming quite trendy.
The Hawaiian Islands are actually a chain of active volcanoes. Except for Mount Kilauea, which is dormant and serves as the hidden lair of an evil genius bent on global domination.
The main mode of sea transportation in Hawaii is the outrigger canoe. On land, it's hopping around and yelling, "OW! This lava's burning my feet! OW! OW! OW!"
The word "Hawaii" comes from the native Hawaiian word "Owhyhee", which means "That drink's gonna cost ya 15 bucks, ya stupid tourist! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
While vacationing in Hawaii, someone may approach you on the beach and offer to take your picture. Don't fall for this scam. He's actually trying to steal your soul with his evil voodoo box. Run away screaming.
Although it never snows in Hawaii, "Sno-Cones" are a very popular treat. However, you'll probably want to avoid the so-called "lemon-flavored" yellow ones.
No, I *didn't* enjoy my Hawaiian vacation, but thanks for asking.
Much like Illinois, Hawaii has no professional football team worth mentioning.
While at the beach in Hawaii, never turn your back on the ocean, lest scurvy pirates take you unawares. YARRRRR!
Again - NOT a good vacation.
If you have an extended stay in Hawaii, remember that ALL goods must be imported to this tiny island state. In the event of a Longshoreman's strike, always booby trap your precious horde of toilet paper to discourage theft.
Although Native Hawaiians never wear shoes this is NOT an invitation to play "this little piggy" with them.
Hawaii Five-O was a fictional TV show, and is NOT an actual crime-fighting organization. If you're the victim of a crime while visiting Hawaii, you'll have to take matters into your own hands by shooting people at random until you've calmed down.
The temperature in Hawaii almost never falls below 60 degrees Fahrenheit. At 59 degrees, native Hawaiians freeze solid and will shatter at the slightest touch.
If you accidentally shatter a Hawaiian, blame another tourist and escape during the ensuing confusion.
The state sport of Hawaii is shark-feeding... oh... sorry... "surfing".
While relaxing at the beach in Hawaii, tip your waiter generously, or don't be surprised when you wake up from your little nap by the ocean with the word "DORK" written in sunscreen across your chest.
Yeah... REALLY bad vacation.
In Hawaii, bikinis and speedos are considered acceptable attire at even the most formal events. As long as you can remember that "eye-contact" involves actually lifting your head, you'll be fine.
Good luck on THAT one, ya perv.
That wraps up the Hawaii edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week we'll be enjoying the potato-rich countryside of Idaho.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find another tourist to blame this shattered Hawaiian on.
[The complete e-book version of "Fun Facts About the 50 States" is now available at Amazon.com. If you don't have a Kindle, you can download free Kindle apps for your web browser, smartphone, computer, or tablet from Amazon.com]
Monday's IMAO Podcast Theme: Superheroes
What does this have to do with the IMAO Podcast? The next IMAO Podcast will prominently feature... comic book superheroes.
I just couldn't swing either of them for tell-all interviews. Johnny wa-- I mean, JOHN, was in Chicago for a fan convention and couldn't make it to the IMAO Podcast and Joss Whedon never heard of us (although Whedon's probably heard of Frank just because lawyers are obligated to let their client know about Frank's stalking; the difference between "fan" and "fanatic" is apparently a restraining order and 6 month's probation).
If it's any consolation to our faithful listeners, this Monday you'll hear Frank J. interview Aquaman in his the first appearance on the IMAO Podcast along with other superhero-themed audio comedy.
That's right, true believers! Check back on Monday for more!
August 12, 2005
don't ask for whom the bell tolls . . .
You just came to Texas Tech University as a freshman...and you get the opportunity to make it big time as the football team's "BELL RINGER" during their games... Your whole family, all of your friends, and about 10-15 million ESPN viewers will see you on a Saturday telecast ringing the team's bell....
But to your whole family, all of your friends, and about
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 10 - Diane the Detective
I don't get attached to my weapons like some people, but I hate wasting them. Still, it seemed prudent to hit the disintegration sequence on the other two I carried. When the authorities came, there was just me with my wounded leg and my one gun lying next to me.
"How are you doing?" asked one cop.
"Stopped the bleeding." I looked to my gun. "I assume you want to take that."
"Yeah," answered one as he picked up the gun, "Medical will be with you soon; there are a number of others in greater need. Seems pretty clear cut what happened here, but you'll have to answer some questions... especially why you had the gun. That was a great thing you did, though... and some great shooting."
I cradled my wounded leg acting like it hurt more than it did. "Got lucky." Looked to some of the "innocent" people being put in body bags. "Others not so lucky." Nice addition, I have to say so myself.
"Any chance you could answer questions now?" asked a woman. Standing above me was a blond, thirty-something, plain-clothes detective. No ring.
Hello, human female.
Well, she wasn't some knockout looks-wise, but the way she held herself - the authority to it - very strong and I guess a turn on to me. She smiled at me - I was the hero - but the suspicion was obvious in her eyes. I can assess people quick, and this was a smart woman - hopefully not smart enough to get herself killed by me.
"I'm Detective Thompson. Our main concern is these terrorists and possible further attacks, so I'd like to get the issue of your involvement out of the way as quickly as possible."
"Can you make sure my name and picture don't get in the news? I don't want to sound wussy, but I'd rather not have all the CyberIslamists freaks targeting me while I'm on vacation."
"We're not letting anyone know you’re the one you ended the attack," Detective Thompson assured me. "So why did you have the gun?"
"I'm a police officer from a planet called Rikar." The planet was in a galaxy red-shifting away near the speed of light; good luck contacting it. "I carry out of habit, and, to be honest, I didn't really look into the gun laws here."
"How are things on Rikar?"
"Pretty violent." True, if I was thinking of the right planet. "Not my first gun fight or bullet wound." Certainly true. "Decided to take a break from it all and see the universe. Was hoping I could find some things to help us back on Rikar. Ended up here for the conference."
"Not to burst your bubble, but I don't think you'll find much useful from that." She had a wry smile.
"Maybe not." I think I liked her. Now what would someone be concerned about now? "So, am I in trouble?"
"You're a hero - I don't think the prosecutors are going to want to pursue the minor infraction of illegal possession of small arms. I need to do my job, though."
"I understand." Doing my job is what I'm all about.
A medical guy came up to me - a green one. I'm not one of those who only trust human doctors, though. "We can look at that leg now. We'll get you to the hospital and should be able to patch you up quick."
"Sorry your vacation got ruined,” Detective Thompson told me, patting me on the shoulder, "Lucky for everyone you were here, though. From the sounds of it, you saved a lot of lives."
I was placed on a gurney. "Small compensation when you see people gunned down like that." I'm good at this.
"I'll check on you at the hospital."
I used my affable smile. "Good; I would enjoy the company." No I wouldn't, but a plan was forming. "What's your name again?"
She smiled. Didn't look forced at all. "Detective Diane Thompson."
I smiled back - also not forced. Hope it didn't look too sinister, though.
Friday Catblogging comes to IMAO
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Live, via webcam, Nardo hunts a toy frog:
If you're not sure how this tragic scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume it's a frog that tragically lost a brave and heroic tadpole in Iraq, got a personal audience with President Bush after which she considered him sincere and sorry and feels pain for their loss, and then a year later was brainwashed by Michael Moore and other professional hardcore leftists into wailing like a banshee outside the president's ranch in Crawford while blogging about meeting Viggo Mortensen on Huffington's virtual watercooler full of Moonbat Juice.
Nardo represents... um... Karl Rove. But without Karl's malicious evil bloodthirsty animal cunning and killer instincts.
(For more animal goodness, try the Friday Ark)
I like Kevin Drum. I don't think he likes me, though. Anyhoo, while he sometimes leans into moonbat territory, he actually has a lot of intelligent analysis of issues. When he talks about problems in Iraq, he actually seems like he cares and wants us to succeed instead of just rooting for failure. If liberals like him dominated more than Kos and comrades, the Democrats might have a chance of getting a real strategy (and, despite my partisanship, I understand a strong, sane opposition is essential to democracy). The problem is the extremists on the left are just too extreme these days to listen, and the liberals in his comments constantly harp on him. Look at this post where he just notes the current obsession with Cindy Sheehan at HuffPo and see the response in the comments.
Question of the Day: What will it take to get the extreme side of the Democratic party to act in a non-self-destructive way?
Now let's head to Kos. He has this excerpt:
Staff Sgt. Jason Rivera, 26, a Marine recruiter in Pittsburgh, went to the home of a high school student who had expressed interest in joining the Marine Reserve to talk to his parents. It was a large home in a well-to-do suburb north of the city. Two American flags adorned the yard. The prospect's mom greeted him wearing an American flag T-shirt. "I want you to know we support you," she gushed.
I have to agree with him: that is a bit disturbing. I then followed his link to Atrios to the link to the full article which was quite enlightening. Apparently, recruiters are having trouble because of opposition from parents. Of course, most parents would be worried about their children going to war, but the left have been doing its best to make Iraq look like a death trap (if it were, my brother wouldn't be so bored). The article even talks about how some left-wing groups are trying to get parents to do all they can to block recruiters. The article even mentions liberals disrupting recruiters at my alma mater.
So, if I get this straight, there are lefties out there yelling about how people aren't signing up their sons for the war, and then also trying to help parents prevent their children from being recruited.
Of course, it isn't the parents’ choice for anyone 18 or older, and that seems to be lost on a lot of people. When some talk about parents losing children in Iraq, they make it seem like Rumsfeld ripped five-years-old away from parents to send them to war. Instead, they are adults making their own choices. While a grieving mother like Cindy Sheehan deserves everyone's sympathy, what's more important is what Casey Sheehan thought of his sacrifice.
Just my two cents as I try to hold the front on this war.
-Frank J., Private First Class of the 101st Fighting Keyboardists
Two Bits for Two Dollars
Since all of us at IMAO are spread across the country (except for me and SarahK, of course) organizing our weekly podcasts are quite a feat. In our latest one, a couple bits accidentally got lost in the shuffle.
Since a number of us bought equipment or still need to buy recording equipment, we've decided to do a fundraiser with two of these sketches. One's a World of Knowledge with me Frank J. talking about oil drilling and the other is the famous samurai Miyamato Musashi giving energy saving tips. They're in CD quality mp3s (1MB each), are professionally produced by Scott McCollum (music, sound effects, etc.), and I'll send them to you for the price of $2.00.
Just click the PayPal button up in the left corner ("Make a Donation"), send us two bucks, and the audio bits will be on their way via e-mail. All proceeds will go to better audio equipment for the IMAO podcasts (and, well, PayPal - they always take their cut).
Be honorable, ronin.
The God of Jihad... I mean War
Let's not beat around the bush. (or is it Bush?) The United States is, without a doubt, occupying the soil of far-distant lands. We were not invited there. Those occupying it have been there since 2003, without a United Nations mandate, roaming around in never-ending patrols that are frequently futile and non-productive.
And yet, our government continues to send more and more resources to maintain the occupation of that soil, hopefully to establish a permanent presence to plunder the natural resources for our own enrichment.
Worst of all, after an initial flurry of reports and wall-to-wall breathless news coverage, you pretty much don't hear the truth about what's going on there unless it's bad news. Or good news, depending on your political view and aspirations for 2006 and 2008.
Wait... you thought I was talking about Iraq? What, are you some kind of Hate-Filled Liberal Moonbat? Come on, people! We're building democracy there. That Freedom Thing.
I was talking about Mars.
The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter lifted off on an Atlas V rocket on a seven-month journey to Mars. The booster rocket shut down and dropped off into the Atlantic Ocean minutes into the launch. Seconds later, the second-stage rocket engine ignited.
Some people just can't resist reading their own agenda into things.
Unless the Next Season of Smallville Comes Out on DVD Soon, It's Time to Bring Our Troops Home
Got a call this morning from my older brother in Iraq, Joe foo' the Marine, and he wasn't his usual cheery self. From the previous times I talked to him, he made it sounds like Fallujah was a theme park (but with explosions), but now he seemed weary of it.
"What's the matter, Joe? Stick your hand into a pile of goo that used to be your best friend's face?"
"No. I'm just bored."
"Don't you get attacked all the time?"
"So what's changed?"
"Well... there's nothing left to watch. I've seen all the DVDs out there and there's nothing left to do."
I started naming off movies followed by all sorts of TV series on DVD that I could think of, and, sure enough, he had watched them all.
"Frank, there's nothing left to watch! I wanna go home now."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There seemed to be only one appropriate response. "Chickenhawk!"
"Hey! That's not true."
"Sure, Joe, you were all for liberating Iraq in the beginning, but, as soon as you watched every DVD, it's suddenly 'Let's pack up and go home.'"
"It's not like I think we should all leave here... just those of us with nothing left to watch."
"What about the USO shows?"
"They're all country music and comedians I haven't heard of. BTW, that 24 show is exciting. You never know who is going to turn up evil."
"Yeah yeah. Don't you like any country music? I just went to a Tobey Keith concert last weekend, and that was awesome!"
Joe answered in a way that seemed to imply he had heard far too much Tobey Keith while in Iraq.
"Anyway, how are things going in Iraq, war-wise?" I asked.
"Are there more or less attacks now?"
"I dunno. We get mortar fire when I'm at the forward base, and they're always yelling, 'Hit the decks!' but I don't want to spill my tater-tots all over the floor. Oh, have you seen Aqua Teen Hunger Force? That show is funny!"
So Joe had begun to count his days; the way he described things, Fallujah was as boring as North Dakota with just a bit more people trying to shell you. He only has the rest of this month and then September to get through before heading back to exciting Boise, though.
Despite finding out how boring war is when you run out of things to watch, he's still hyped about going into Officer Training School and becoming a full-time Marine. Also, he really wants an HDTV and a 5.1 surround sound setup back at his home.
"But haven't you just said you already watched everything?"
"But not in progressive scan with 5.1!"
HDTV with 5.1 surround sound for our returning Marines - does that sound like a good charity?
Anyhoo, Godspeed, Joe foo’.
August 11, 2005
You Attack One IMAO Blogger, You Attack Us All!
Since I've been discussing it and I'm back home where the website isn't blocked, here's the article where some guy make fun of spacemonkey, really rips Harvey, and I think makes fun of me - but I'm a little confused on that one. Our traffic is like way better tha their's, though, so I'm not sure how much attention to give it since we're not going to benefit out of this feud.
Still, a humor contest does seem like the thing to prove that we conservatives are funnier. I can see it now: three humor pieces. One making fun of an issue from the conservative side, the other from the liberal side, and then a humor piece that's of a non-political topic. A panel made up of half liberals and half conservatives (and one moderate for tie breakers) picks a winner in each category without knowing the author. Best two out of three wins.
Man, that's complicated.
Know what? We have more traffic than these mean, nasty liberal people which means we're funnier. Case closed.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 9 - Mecha-Allah
I was being shot at.
Actually, everyone was being shot at by five sentients screaming what my translator was interpreting as, "Mechanized Allah is great!" People were falling dead or wounded all around me from the rapid, slug-firing guns the attackers were using with a crazed zeal.
My luck: A terrorist attack. I had heard of these guys. They were a number of humans and aliens that worshiped a gigantic city destroying robot - Mecha-Allah - that they believed to be their god taken corporal form. Since so many people were out to destroy Mecha-Allah based on him commanding his supporters to kill unbelievers, they hid him. This made the CyberIslamists even more crazed because they were supposed to pray five times a day towards Mecha-Allah but didn't know where he was. This meant lots of praying in random directions.
Yeah, it's really stupid, but you don't know how much I sometimes wish I was able to have religious faith.
The scene at the cafe was pure random mayhem and it annoyed me to no end. I mean, I have little regard for "innocents" when converging on a target, but to go out of one's way to kill them seemed so silly. As soon as I grasped the situation, I was about to pull out two guns and take the terrorists down in a seconds time.
But that puts all my cards on the table. No question I'm a great killer then, and then many questions follow from the authorities.
So what now? Inaction could get me shot and almost had already, so I quickly pretend I'm someone else. Decided I'm a police officer on vacation who brought one gun with him out of habit. Killing five would be a feat, but I could make it look lucky - be skilled but not too skilled.
I drew a gun with my right hand and fired twice at one, the first missing on purpose and second burning the terrorist, the lizard like creature letting out a dying shriek to his robotic master.
Three more shots as I went for cover (cop would only use inanimate objects and not other people as cover, so I had to watch myself). Two of those three struck a human terrorist, and the remaining three attackers now focused on me (I was really the only one in the crowd with a gun? That's sad when a criminal is the first defense). I partially hid behind a lamppost and fired back.
These guys weren't aiming. They were just doing automatic fire in my direction and were quite pathetic about it. I fired two more close but missing shots before killing a third. I then noticed some bullets hitting near my feet and decided to commit to the part I was playing by sticking out my leg.
After the bullet ripped through my calf muscle, I let myself fall to the ground. As I fell, I ended the fight with two shots that got two kills. One hand on my leg and the other on my gun, I looked around the fire of the former cafe and the panic around it to see there were no more "bad guys" left to shoot. I set down my gun and began bandaging my leg with a cloth napkin.
"You saved us!" gasped a middle-aged woman clutch a child.
False modesty - that seemed to be the norm for this sort of thing. "In the end, I was just saving my self." (completely true). Would I get in the news for this? That would not be helpful.
"Can I help you with..."
"I'm fine," I interrupted the woman as I tightened the bandage, "Keep watch on your son." Others were gathered around me. "Look for the wounded to help the authorities when they get here," I commanded calmly, "I can handle myself." This role-playing was kinda fun... other than how much the bullet hurt.
I thought it was a good acting all in all and the wounded leg sealed the deal, but I knew the real police would be there any moment to test how great my "vacationing cop" act really was.
If I had known you were coming, I'd have baked a file in a cake
I've been thinking about the whole Hyatte murder-and-escape news story and one thing comes to mind: Traditional Values.
You see, Jennifer was a nurse. Sure, she was a prison nurse, but a nurse nonetheless. And being a nurse is what would be considered a "traditional" job for a woman. I think that's a good thing, because Traditional Values is what we're all about, right? We're all for them?
However, freeing your jailed husband by driving up and shooting the guards is not what I'd consider a "traditional" prison break. I'd say that was one of those violent "New Fangled Ways" of doing things, certainly not what she learned in her traditional role as a nurse. Or as a wife, which she'd been three times.
Instead, I think everybody's familiar with the classic "bake a file in a cake" ploy of the previous century. I know, it's corny, but it's practically tradition. And nobody's ever gotten hurt from a file in a cake, aside from a few chipped teeth and maybe a loosened filling.
Once again: Traditional Values good, New Fangled Ways bad.
I'm just going to assume that Jennifer was just too busy as a nurse to learn how to properly bake a cake. Even with all those modern Duncan Hines mixes on the shelf that three moneys on acid can't screw up, and all it takes is what - a few hours to mix and bake and cool? She didn't even have to frost the thing if she didn't want to.
Why did she go the "guns blazing" route instead of the good traditional "bake a file in a cake" route? Who knows? Maybe she didn't get the Easy Bake Oven most parents used to give their daughters, or Home Economics had been replaced with "Womens Studies" in her high school.
Either way, I feel this is a failure of society to help impart our Traditional Values on our citizens, whether decent and upstanding or loathesome and criminal.
On behalf of society, I say "We're sorry, Jennifer Hyatte. Can you ever forgive us?"
Stay Outta Brooklyn!
Britian is deporting for'ners who support violence, but where are they going to deport them to? It would be wrong to send them to the Middle East as they already have too many violent people there. Here are some other suggestions:
PLACES TO DEPORT VIOLENT MUSLIMS
* Under the ocean so they're Aquaman's problem.
* Into a large cannon, and then out of the large cannon at high speeds.
* A New York taxi company.
* The tropical resort we know simply as "Gitmo."
* A posh Hollywood party to be among other America haters.
* Into a volcano.
* The house in Big Brother.
* North Dakota (nothing to do or kill there).
* Into six-foot deep plots.
I'm still woozy, so that's the best I could think of. Just make sure they don't end up anywhere where Hillary will try to get them the right to vote.
Still, getting over something (flu? mad cow disease? dunno), and am just not feeling like my full funny self. Then there's yet another lefty blog saying we're not funny (the blog is so far the first one I've seen my work block; I guess they don't want us to waste our time laughing when we should be mining coal). It wasn't as obtuse as mitrha, but it just reeked from the guy trying too hard (or maybe he was funny and I just didn't get it, proving the point - I forget whose). Plus he spent the whole post fisking Harvey's latest, which just shows the viciousness of the left to attack a man with the IQ of a six-year-old. Noticeably, no quote from me, as anything I have ever written would outshine the guy's entire blog (except what I've written lately; that's all crap).
Now, what was my point? I think the drugs are taking effect. Anyhoo, coal ain't gonna mine itself, so I better get to work. If you have any idea what point I was moving towards, please put it in the comments.
Welcome to Tejas
Texas is officially a minority-majority state:
According to the population estimates based on the 2000 Census, about 50.2 percent of Texans are now minorities. In the 2000 Census, minorities made up about 47 percent of the population in the second-largest state.
This member of the "Texas minority-majority" welcomes this change in demographic power. Perhaps it's high time we minorities flexed our muscles to finally implement Sunday-through-Thursday workweeks, strict Kosher laws for food handling, and restore the lunar calendar so nobody knows what to write on their checks anymore.
August 10, 2005
A lot of people have been asking "why hasn't the MSM picked up on the Air America scandal?".
Well, it turns out that it's because the execs at Air America have been sitting on a bunch of stories that are - shall we say - "less than flattering" about the other major news outlets, and threatened to go public with them if the big boys cracked the story.
Through various nefarious means, I've discovered what those hidden scandals are:
MSNBC paid over $3.4 million dollars in bribe money over the last nine years to keep the Apple Mighty Mouse off the market.
Ted Koppel was videotaped at Peter Jennings' funeral rifling the corpse's pockets looking for spare change to support his vicious crack habit.
Since the 2004 elections, Dan Rather has spent millions of dollars of CBS's money buying vintage typewriters on eBay.
The ink used to print Newsweek is manufactured in Honduran sweatshops and its main ingredient is the blood of orphans.
Elvis has been working in the mailroom at NBC since 1977.
Almost a year beforehand, members of the Associated Press CLEARLY knew that September 11th was coming. It was on all their calendars, just sitting there next to September 10th.
Wolf Blitzer, booze, a can of Crisco, and a video camera. 'Nuff said.
All the major networks accepted serious payola from Lyndie England to keep showing those Abu Ghraib photos, which did wonders for her "internet dominatrix" business, which - coincidentally - is owned by Time-Warner.
Speaking of ownership, you may have already guessed that greedy corporate sports network ESPN owns 'RoidCo, which makes steroids in Honduran sweatshops out of orphan-blood.
Oh, and Robert Novak had sex with Tom Cruise, but hey - who hasn't?
Let me know if there any media scandals that I missed...
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 8 - Diversity
I had to land my ship 17,000 miles away from the capital city. For an emergency escape plan, I guess I could just tunnel straight through the planet back to my ship (look at me; I made a joke). From what Dip was able to read out of the air, he wouldn't be able to take the ship anywhere near the sentient species diversity conference without most certainly being shot down. I told him to work on a plan to extract me from the capital anyway. If I didn't know he was only a bundle of computer algorithms, I would swear Dip was gleeful at being entrusted with something useful to do.
Before getting on the transit to Nar Valdum's capital, there was some sort of scanning of each passenger and baggage. They seemed to be more interested in stopping nuclear bombs, because I had no trouble getting through with my regular armaments (firearms come in too many varieties to be reliably scanned for anyway).
Small talk on the transit was about hope that this conference would lead to an enhanced galactic government to unite all species. I just repeated the sentiments back at them, and, before I could tire too much of the inanity, the destination was reached.
Nar Valdum's capital (Nar Valdum City is the name, I think) is like plenty of other cities I've seen on more developed planets. You pass through slums where you have all the species diversity you want and plenty of violent crime and then reach the nice and sparkly downtown with its shiny skyscrapers and only a few different species in sight. The preferred race here seemed to be human (good and bad for me; I stick out less but other humans are more likely to notice that I'm... well... odd) with a large mix of Corridians like Senator Bull’s-eye. There didn't seem to be as much variation in the Corridians’ color or features as humans. There could be a number of reasons for that. They vary in ways I'm just not observant to, they never evolved many variations, or, most likely, they were more successful than humans in ethnic cleansing back in their dark ages.
Almost every sentient species I've bother to look into had racial battles before they advanced to the point of interstellar travel. Then comes the even bigger and not even closed to being solved problem of inter-species animosity. I can't even keep track of which species generally hate which species (I even forget who I'm supposed to hate).
While most sentient species reached a point where they agreed that ethnic differences within them were superficial, it just goes against all logic to say that all sentient creatures who developed separately on different planets must be equal. It's always being said that this and that species is more violent prone or this one is more dumb ("How long did your species exist before it was able to travel into space?"), but genetics differ so much between planets, how can anything like that be proven?
Then there are those who feel that all sentients are equal - I guess because it's nice to think that everyone is equal. I figure this conference will be full of those people. Others have expanded religious views started from their own planet to say that God (or whatever you would call the supposed supreme being) has made all sentients equal.
Now let's say you just believe all sentients are equal for whatever reason (none based on logic I've seen) you choose. What defines some species as being sentient then? It's not trivial. There are plenty of smart animals that just aren't smart enough to make developing civilization.
And, quick tip for you: Just because some creature is wearing clothes, that doesn't make it sentient. Had a long conversation with a type of creature I had never seen before to later find out it had the intelligence of a canine and its owner had just put a sweater on it. Thought I meant someone interesting - so quiet and reserved - only to get laughed at by the natives (lucky for them I'm a psychopath and don't have any feelings to hurt).
I've really digressed, haven't I? Lacking normal emotions and feelings, I'm often quite detached from the world and tend to over analyze everything - I need to understand a lot for my job. If I don't die from my work (and, to be honest, odds are I will), I could probably write lots of books on philosophy for retirement.
Anyway, I get to the pretty downtown of Nar Valdum City, buy a paper written in basic human, and sit at an outdoor cafe to order a bottle of water. This hit was starting to make me curious, and, when given orders to kill, I'm not usually the curious sort. This whole diversity conference was a bunch of fluff that the syndicate wouldn't care about (if you can do work for them, they don't care what you are. I don't care either other than if you're living and I'm paid to kill you; personally, I don't particular like my own species or any other). Senator Gredler must be of interest outside of this, and what he's done must be quite special to deserve the Rico treatment. Either he's too good a man that he has to be struck down harshly to scare others, or he's such a horrible corrupt man that he must be struck down harshly to scare others. Since he's a politician, I bet the latter.
But how was he corrupt in so special a way? Was he under the thumb of my criminal syndicate and then turned against it? And was he expecting retaliation.
I decided it was time to try this new thing I had been working on. My brain being split worked mainly just for taking on two targets at once, but I found I could also have the split off part do simple tasks while I focused elsewhere (I can pat my head and rub my tummy with the best of them). What I had tried to break down into a simple task was the appearance of reading a newspaper. A newspaper is more difficult than a book because no one reads it cover to cover, so I have to imitate scanning and then slow down to have more interest in certain parts. I think I had the illusion down pretty well, though, so I sat at the cafe and, while my eyes and hands pretended to read a newspaper, my ears and perception were concentrating on the voices around me and my universal translator trying to see if there was any mention of my target or anything else that might be of interest. Every time I drank from my water, I'd have to break concentration on hearing, though. Still, if anyone was watching me, I appeared to be drinking a water and reading a newspaper while all the while I was really spying on everyone around me. It was a great illusion, but I made one mistake that revealed my lack of normality.
When the cafe exploded and men came out screaming and firing guns into the crowd, I neatly folded my paper and placed it on the table instead of dropping it in surprise - which actually was my first instinct since I was... well... surprised.
Ask Ducky, Podcast
Yes, I, RightWingDuck, have all the answers. But they're worthless without any questions.
So once again it is time for Ask Ducky. Would you like to hear your name mentioned on the podcast? Of course you would - that would make you famous and beloved by people all over the world. You'd be walking at the mall and store security would say something like, "I'm sorry, we need you to step back into the store." Which is code for: "Didn't I hear Ducky mention your name on IMAO?"
Yep, life would be good, sticky fingers.
So post those questions!! This week I'd like to know if you have questions on superheroes, heroes, and villains. Of course, Ducky is here to answer all of your questions, so feel free to post away.
In the interest of fairness, balance, and extra income - I, RightWingDuck, decided to sell my posting space today. Sorry, with another kid on the way, and the nearest boys and girls clubs strapped for cash (thanks Air Amerida), I needed to maximize the family resources.
Sorry, Frank J.
Here is a commercial announcement from the people at PETA and Robert C. Byrd.
My name is Robert C. Byrd and I’m a United States Senator. You might know my name from the Robert C. Byrd Bridge, the Robert C. Byrd Expressway, and the special place where we are now – the Robert C. Byrd Lynching Tree.
You see, as a civil rights activist myself (I've been on many midnight march), I respect the institution of free speech. I’m here on behalf of the people at PETA. People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
PETA does a great job defending the rights of the downtrodden animals – and when they’re not doing that – they do a great job killing them
“On a recent Are Animals The New Slaves? tour in Connecticut, PETA came under fire for hosting an event where they showed pictures of slaves, being tortured,sold and killed, next to pictures of animals tortured, sold and killed.”
This offended the local representatives from the NAACP. PETA was shocked by this, mostly because they didn’t know Connecticut had black people. Man those people are everywhere, I tell you.
Look at the cows behind me. The animal cruelty continues. This is absolutely, positively unacceptable. I mean, really - 10 loops on a noose instead of 13? Well, I never heard of such a thing. But, I digress.
Do you know why we need to make sure that animals have their civil rights? Because they are very much like people. And they need their rights. But we need to do it properly. The other day, Ted Kennedy was trying to hammer out a 3/5 compromise. Can you believe that?
Ted Kennedy. What is your offer for the Rights of these Cow Creatures?
Lobbyist: We’ll give you a case of whiskey.
Ted Kennedy. I am a man of integrity. That will not be necessary. I’ll simply take three fifths.
Does that make sense? Of course not. I believe that PETA is correct.
“PETA wants people to stop eating animals, stop using them for clothing, stop forcing animals to entertain people (as in a circus) and stop animal experimentation.”
In fact, once we stop falling for the myth of Separate but Equal, I believe that our next step will be full Cow Suffrage. Even for the black cows.
That’s right. One day, we will stand side by side at the voting booth trying desperately to keep evil Republicans out of office while trying to figure out the butterfly ballot.
As someone who has fought for civil rights I want to see PETA’s dream come true.
And we know when it comes to land issues, environment, and cow rights – cows would vote Democrat. That’s correct – the Democratic Party would expand our base.
So call your local representative and tell them that you vote yes for Cow Liberation!
Maybe Howard Dean Just Isn't Screaming Loud Enough
Mithras gave us some good material to work with yesterday (make sure to check out the comments to this post where Scott Ott and Iowahawk shows up; Iowahawk gets about every muckadoo thought into one concise "joke."), so I'd thought I'd look to my favorite left-wing blog (which I don't say mockingly) for some more free funny. Kevin Drum asks "What is wrong with Democrats these days?" and lists ten common answers to that question. He got the main ones, but I'll try some of my own.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH DEMOCRATS THESE DAYS?
* Just don't demagogue like they used to.
* Too many carbs.
* No sense of humor.
* Only ones with sense of humor. Really! You only think you're laughing, you stupid conservatives!
* Needs more cowbell.
* Everyone is dumb except for them.
* Everyone has sense except for them.
* Too much fear of the reaper.
* Bush looks like a chimp and you can't compete with chimps because people love chimps!
* Thought of them taking on terrorists is laughable.
* Actually, being called a Democrat is more an insult to one's manhood than having it insinuated you're gay.
* And charges of Demophobia aren't shaming people.
* When Democrats were finally getting traction, Karl Rove invented MoveOn.org and DailyKos.com to keep them down.
* Also, Michael Moore is Rove in a fat suit.
* KARL ROOOOOVE!!!!
Well, that's just a few thoughts. Put what you think is wrong with the Democrats in the comments.
BTW, if you're still wondering whether conservatives can be funny (I'm always wondering if I'm funny myself), I think this settles the issue. See, we're listed as a "humorous blog" and we're right-wing. Quod Erat Demonstrandum, you dumb crackers.
The choking game?
For all those of you who blame video games for violent behavior in kids, try to explain this one:
Looking back, Sarah Pacatte realizes she missed the warning signs.
Hang on a second... horrible tragedy, drugs are evil, simply awful, legalize whale-hunting, my heart goes out to this family, I really hate monkeys, blame the school system and the government, did I leave the iron on again, send therapists to the school, was always such a good kid, yadda yadda yadda... okay, done.
So, where did the kid get this idea?
I blame Hangman. Sure, marijuana makes you do stupid things and it's bad for you, but you've got to have something stupid as a launching pad from which to do even more stupid things.
The kid choked himself. And just like videogamers kill aliens and people over and over on the screen, kids also hang stickfigures over and over in the classic kiddie game of Hangman.
How do you go from hanging stick figures to hanging yourself? Well, how don't you? It's makes perfect sense to me. I'm shocked I didn't end up doing it myself when I was in the Fifth Grade. Thankfully, there was a rope shortage due to some sort of foreign policy gaffe thing, and you can't hang yourself with sausage links or that bubblegumtape stuff.
So, folks, instead of worrying about drugs and guns and gangs, keep your kids away from Hangman. Especially the dumb ones who can't spell.
So, when will Fear Factor include a new segment called "Extreme Hangman" where the contestants try to guess a word and get hung from a blimp or dumped in a tub of animal guts or forced to talk to Regis Philbin for five minutes?
August 09, 2005
Carnival Of Comedy Reminder
Don't forget, the Carnival of Comedy is coming up Thursday, Aug 11th! YAY!!!
Damian G. will be hosting the carnival at Conservathink for Week 15 on Aug. 11. This is his first time hosting. Will he fly like an eagle or will he go down in flames? Will he find a photo of a badger, monkey and a cowbell in time? Tune in this Thursday to find out!
Want to host? Want to keep Scott Ott from hosting
Still have questions?
Funny is in the Birth Defect of the Beholder
Frank beat me to this but...
Mithras a blogger, who is, and I mean this with the strictest inter-blogger professional courtesy, an ignorant moonbat nutjob of I'm sure, the most delightful sort, also possibly an extremely large radioactive moth [ed note, nope that was Mothra], asks Where Are All The Funny Conservative Bloggers?
Then he (she? no offense, dunno, don't read him/her) lists a few:
Outside of them, it's all self-righteousness and persecution complex, all the time. And outside of the three listed above, when a conservative blogger does employ humor, I find that usually it's in retelling a joke they read somewhere else.
First of all thanks for including us on your extremely short list of funny conservative blogs. Really thanks, glad to know we don't use words that are too big for some of y'all.
Mithras also wonders:
Is there just some birth defect that prevents right-wingers from being funny?
But instead of assuming we, conservative as a lot have some sort of birth defect that doesn't allow us to make, as we in the funny business call 'teh funny.' perhaps you should take the long view. When liberals are in thier natual habitat at a protest, painted pink and green head to toe, running rampant, howling at the moon, at the OUTRAGEous things the conservatives are saying, THAT's what we are laughing at. And we laugh our rear ends off at you. Figuratively.
Mithras also asserts
The key to successful humor, after all, is to be able to see things from other people's perspectives - a liberal trait that conservatives deride variously as "relativism" or "objectively pro-terrorist".
What about our perspectives? Can you see our worldview? Perhaps liberals should try to use that 'see things from other, whatevers" ability and try looking at humor, which arguably is not a thing, from another POV namely ours. When conservatives make fun of liberals, conservatives laugh and laugh and laugh, while the liberals, best case, don't get the joke, worst case, call the ACLU to set up legal proceedings for a civil rights abuse case.
I will look at humor from a liberal point of view.
See? It all becomes painfully clear when you simply broaden your mind and look through the eyes of your intellectual superiors. Us.
Where are all the funny conservative bloggers? Somewhere, laughing at you, just not with you.
Why Don't I Find People Who Make Fun of My Worldview Funny?
You have to try hard to be this dense. Yet I keep seeing this meme (I still hate that word for reasons unknown) from so many liberals (you get a lot of this in Greg Gutfeld's comments - "I don't find you funny! Why aren't conservatives funny?").
If there are some liberals reading this wondering why they don't find conservatives funny, let me explain this very simply: It's not fun to be pointed and laughed at.
Why make this complicated? Take liberal and conservative out of the equation. When someone has a completely alien viewpoint to your own, you won't find that person funny.
KEY HUMOR ASPECT NUMBER ONE: Humor involves shared, unsaid beliefs between who tells joke and who hears it.
If your shared belief is that Bush is Hitler, you will not laugh at the same jokes as people who believe Bush is not Hitler. Your viewpoints are just too askew to share a laugh. Mithras asserts that James Wolcott is funny. The few times I read that guy, I found him about as funny as a burning bus full of orphans (Heh; stupid orphans. That'll teach them to not have parents - On second thought, a burning bus full of orphans is kinda funny; Wolcott should emulate that more). That doesn't mean either of us is malfunctioning in the humor department. It just means that on certain issues we are too different to laugh with each other.
This seems so simple to me. Am I beating a dead horse here?
The only thing I've seemed to notice as a key difference between liberals making jokes about politics and conservatives making jokes about politics is that conservatives seem to be able to laugh at themselves more. I poke fun of my own beliefs all the time here. Yet, I've never seen a liberal making fun of the common liberal beliefs he or she holds dear - even with all the material that's available! (Just think of Howard Dean alone!)
Then again, I don't really seek out liberal humor on politics. Can someone point me to a self-deprecating (on the political level, that is) liberal?
In Search of a Message
Democrats have been in search of a message to take them back to power. Recently it was "Republicans are nothing but white Christians who never worked an honest day in their life." followed by "We had a guy who almost won a seat in Ohio." What's their newest rallying cry?
"This woman should be able to meet with the President twice because her son died in Iraq and she's against the war."
Will this be enough to gain back the Congress in 2006 and the White House in 2008? Only time and common sense will tell.
Hey, how come nobody told me Instapundit has guest bloggers this week? Don't matter if I'm sick; I need to know that.
Now, there are three people posting to Instapundit who we have not libeled and do not hate IMAO. We should be able to get an Instalanche this week! It's our birthright! Get to it IMAO bloggers!
In My World: John Roberts, Rebel Supreme Court Justice
"...and that's how I became quite certain I wanted to be a judge."
"That's great, you soon to be Supreme Court Justice you," Bush said while smiling as he ushered away John Roberts. When Roberts was gone, Bush ran to his press secretary. "I have a problem! My Supreme Court nominee is dead boring!"
"There certainly doesn't seem to be much controversy to him," Scott McClellan replied, looking a little confused. "I hear the New York Times is even trying to dig into his adoption records to try and find something to hit him with."
"Did they find anything scandalous?" Bush asked hopefully.
"Dagnabbit!" Bush exclaimed, "He's the most boring person ever! The Senate will never vote for anyone so boring!"
"Actually, it seems he's a lock to be approved by the Sen..."
Scott was silenced by a backhand to the face. "Don't you tell me how things are!" Bush yelled, "I'm the President and you're the Press Secretary! I tell you how things are and you parrot it back to others! Got it?"
"Okay! Could you stop hitting me at least?"
"Maybe." Bush answered. He then hit Scott. "Maybe not. Now help me find ways to make Roberts more interesting."
* * * *
"Do I really need these green highlights?" Roberts asked as he looked in the mirror.
"They go with the tattered leather jacket," Bush answered.
Roberts frowned. "With all this mousse and what not you put in my hair to make it spiky, I don't know if I'll ever be able to get my part back in the appropriate place."
"Only the old Roberts would worry about parting his hair," Bush declared, "but Robbie doesn't worry about things like that, 'cause he's one bad mo'fo'. By the way, you're now known as ‘Robbie.’"
"I don't know if I can get used to that," Roberts said, "and where is the helmet for the motorcycle you want me to ride?"
"Rebels don't wear helmets," Bush told him.
"This is going to set a bad example for my kids," Roberts griped.
"About your kids," Bush said, and then paused for a moment. "How do I put this delicately? Well... they suck. There's nothing going on with them at all. If you plan on having a third kid, definitely go with a new adoption agency."
"They're that bad?"
"Pretty much, but I'll see if I can do something with them." Bush turned to Scott. "Scott, teach his kids to talk sass."
Bush backhanded Scott. "That's sass! Now make his kids interesting!"
Donald Rumsfeld then walked up to Bush. "I really have to talk to you about the War on Terror."
"I don't have time for terrorisms or Iraq or anything right now!" Bush exclaimed, "I'm trying to make my Supreme Court nominee look cool; I don't have time for other things!" Bush wrote out a note. "Here, Rummy; you're smart. Now you have full control of the military and don't have to consult with me."
"I even control the nukes?"
"Sure, whatever," Bush said, turning back to Roberts as Rumsfeld walked away laughing evilly.
"So what am I doing with the motorcycle again?" Roberts asked.
"You’re jumping through a hoop of fire," Bush answered, exasperated, "It doesn't get any simpler than that."
"That just seems so... dangerous."
Bush groaned. "It's like you don't even care about the Constitution."
"But I do."
"Then you're jumping through a hoop of fire, and you better get used to it!"
* * * *
"AIEEEEEE!" Roberts screamed as he ran around on fire.
Bush and Laura were sitting in bed watching the nightly news roundup. Laura looked at Bush sternly, who then said, "It's not as bad as it appears. Most of the burns are only second degree."
"When asked for comment," the anchorman stated, "John Roberts daughter said quote, 'My daddy is all burnt up. What else do you need to know, idiot?'"
"That's sounds like sass!" Laura exclaimed, "Did you teach his kids sass?"
"It was all Scott's doing! I swear!"
The phone then rang. Bush turned off the T.V. and answered the phone while grumbling about how late it was. "Hello, this is the President of the United States... Hey, Rummy, what's up? ...It doesn't matter if you still feel like nuking them; they gave you the 50 billion in gold... Yes, technically, the phrase, 'You will give me 50 billion in gold bars by the end of the day or I will rain nuclear destruction on you!' does not preclude you from raining nuclear destruction even if you get the gold, but most people assume that. If you nuke the Saudis now, they'll never trust me anymore." Bush hung up and then laid his head down to go to sleep. "Sometimes I think my administration is full of idiots."
Who is the Biggest Liberal?
The Museum of Left Wing Lunacy is holding a poll to see which of the following is the biggest liberal. Contestants are:
There are descriptions included, in case you don't recognize some of the names - did YOU know Wes Boyd founded Moveon.org?
So, after you vote for the IMAO podcast at Podcast Alley, you can go to the Museum and vote for Jane Fonda.
Yeah, I *know* she's not on the list. I just hate her so much that I typed her name just so that I could spit while I was doing it.
Return from Return to Flight
Yay! Shuttle landed safely!
Now scrap. The thing is starting to sound like the Mir.
Anyhoo, I'm back, and, after I catch up on what's been happening in the news, I'll write something funny as I tend to do. Anything been particularly begging for it?
Every cloud has a silver lining . . .
After reading about Frank's recent bouts of poor health and his precautionary CAT scan, it occurred to me that it may be time to start our very own IMAO contributor dead pool.
Here's how it will work: pick 3 contributors that you think will die in the next year. You will get 1 point for each fatality. You will get .5 point for certified brain death. You must also list their cause of death for tie breaking purposes. The winner at the end of the year will receive a free IMAO t-shirt and a small vial of cremated remains.
The contributors are:
August 08, 2005
Daylight Savings Time
Well, Congress decided that a public that's too confused to handle voting machines and butterly ballots is more than prepared to handle adjusting their self-adjusting devices for Daylight Savings Time.
Folks, we're the country who brought you the person spilling coffee in their lap at McDonalds. And their ability to sue for doing that to themselves. And lawyers willing to represent them. And a jury who SIDES WITH THEM!
Of course, we're not the only ones who torture ourselves with this bizarre changing the date of the clock-changing ritual twice a year. Apparently, it's a malady common to our species:
Some European countries changed dates in response to a European Union directive to standardize daylight time beginning in 1996. That led to problems with Finnish dates in at least one version of Windows.
That must be awfully confusing, not having machines do the work for you. I mean, it must take five hours with an arc-welder and a PhD to adjust some of these newfangled self-adjusting clocks. I hear there's a course at DeVry just for this kind of thing, and they keep the classrooms under armed guard to prevent students from smuggling out the expensive clock-adjusting equipment.
So, how do they handle this technological conundrum there in that crazy, technologycally-backward Jerusalem place?
Moti Tzur, a sales manager at Sakal Electronics Ltd. in Jerusalem, says the constant changes do little to confound manufacturers, sales representatives or consumers.
They read the directions?
Wow, those Jews are smart with their fancy-schmancy book-learning. Where can we get us some of those? And can someone pick me up a cup of McCoffee because I really have to go to the bathroom.
Of course, we all know what this means. Yep. Me, the Token Jew on IMAO, is going to be the one stuck with reading the directions on IMAO's server and setting it forward an hour.
Um... I mean back.
I'd love to see the news networks follow around the Congresspeople who voted this change into law on the old Fall Back day to see how many of them manage to adjust their clocks back from the auto-adjust schemes, and then adjust their clocks manually on the new Fall Back day.
Or just say "Congressman, we have an interview at 07:00." and see if they show up an hour... late? Early?
Maybe I shouldn't be changing the clock on IMAO's server after all.
Feed the Poor Talent
My name is Pedro and my family came here from Cuba. We tried to make it to Florida, but the ocean waves pushed us out to sea and we eventually made it to New York City. New York City is the greatest city in the state of New York. We love it!
I'd like to talk do you about a charity that makes a difference. A company that is dedicated to taking back from the community and giving it to those who need it. Are we talking about the poor? No, I'm talking about Air America and corporations like them that desperately need our help.
Every year, corporations steal from Boys & Girls Clubs like mine. Do youkknow how to tell if they are taking our money?
Top Signs Your Corporation is stealing from the Boys and Girls Club...
10. Laptops looks suspiciously like Speak 'N Spells
9. Break room suddenly has a large supply of Graham Crackers.
8. You called Tech support because of the mysterious crash of your Etch a Sketch.
7. PowerPoint presentations are done with fingerpaints.
6. You suspect that the phone voice mail shouldn't greet people with "Yabba Dabba doo."
5. or have Dino The Dinosaur instead of a pound key.
4 The budget includes a line item called "lemonade sales."
3. Your New Business Stationery only has 4 lines. With little dotted lines in between.
2. Business Motto is "We can make even more lunch money."
And the number one way to tell your company is stealing from the local Boys And Girls Club...
1. Your Corporate fleet now includes a Big Wheel.
But these are the signs of an EVIL cororation. Sometimes, corporations can do very good work.
That is why you have not heard any complaints from the New York Times, which is in no way biased. In fact, you should read their hard hitting new series, "25 ways Bush is worse than Satan" with an introduction by Al Franken.
In fact, that is my topic today....
Just the other day, his limousine drove by a group of my friends , and he threw a hamburger out the window. Good thing the limousine was starting to slow down. Anyway, not only is my friend Carlos expected to make a full recovery, but he now has a hamburger patty embedded in his forehead. Some kids struggle with hunger - Carlos will always be fed - thanks to Senor Franken.
So won't you please hit our tip jar today?
For only a large amount of money, you can help pay his salary. Sure, you could use that money to pay for college, or buy a Toyota Corolla, but instead - you could use it to support the poor people at Air America.
Remember. When evil companies steal from the poor, they err, and they err badly. When a company steals from a Boys And Girls Club, that's Air America.
Give. And give more. Senor Franken will tell you when you have paid your fair share.
Update: Welcome Michelle Malkin readers (Thanks Michelle!) We've got some funny stuff here. Stay a while and check the place out.
More Pictures of My Glorious Brain
I'm getting a precautionary CAT scan today. That's where you sit in a room and have cats stare at you. It's creepy!
Actually, I can't remember the difference between a CAT scan, an MRI, and exploratory surgery. They're all good.
Anyhoo, their giving me drugs to make me weird and queasy, and it says right on them no blogging if in your slogan is the word "unmedicated." But I'll be back to my regular blogging powers real soon. Luckily, with the other bloggers, I hardly miss me. If you need your Frank fix, though, check me out in the newest podcast and comment on it here.
Man, a cat is staring at me right now!
NEW! IMAO Podcast for Monday August 8, 2005.
This week's IMAO Podcast satirizes the energy industry:
For your Monday funny, DOWNLOAD THE IMAO PODCAST!
Be sure to tell a friend about the podcast and look for IMAO at this year's Portable Media Expo November 11-12 in L.A.
August 07, 2005
Fun Facts About Georgia: The Director's Cut
The version on the IMAO podcast (#10) was cut here & there for time & quality reasons.
My unsullied and divinely inspired artistic vision appears in the extended entry...
Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.
This week, it's time to eat a peach in honor of Georgia, so let's get started...
Georgia became the 4th state on January 2nd, 1788, and its citizens commemorate this day each year by shooting British people with muskets.
Contrary to popular myth, not everyone who lives in Georgia is a redneck. There's plenty of toothless, moonshine-swilling hillbillies, too.
Coca-Cola was invented in Atlanta, Georgia in 1886. The original formula has changed since then, and the drink no longer contains actual cocaine or the blood of virgins.
"Georgia" is a Cherokee Indian word meaning, "Are those rednecks or hillbillies?"
Despite the way natives pronounce the state's name, "Jawjah" is NOT spelled with a W.
Unlike the word "dawg".
Since it almost never snows in Georgia, children there spend winters having cotton ball fights.
While having a cotton ball fight, it's considered cheating to stuff a peach pit in the cotton.
In Georgia, everything is made out of cotton. Except the peaches, which are made out of okra.
Atlanta, Georgia has the worst traffic of any city in the US, since every street in the city is named "Peachtree Road".
The last time it snowed in Georgia, the confused natives thought it was ash from the Yankees burning Atlanta again.
The state motto of Georgia is "Wisdom, Justice, Moderation.", which replaced the old motto of "Whiskey, Hookers, NASCAR."
In Georgia, every soft drink is referred to as "Coke". Except for Pepsi, which is referred to as "Damn Yankee Poison".
After Jimmy Carter left the presidency in 1981, he returned to his home town of Plains, Georgia and went on a bloody shooting rampage.
Wait... I meant to say "worked for Habitat for Humanity". Must've been a typo.
The only way to get to Florida from Georgia is by sea, since the Georgia-Florida border is guarded by landmines and alligators.
The Georgia Music Hall of Fame in Macon, Georgia celebrates the careers of all the talented musicians who were born in Georgia, and is currently empty.
They WERE going to put in a Ray Charles exhibit, but they figured there was no point, since he wouldn't see it anyway.
Saint Marys, Georgia is the second-oldest city in the US, and will soon be moving to Florida to retire.
If it can make it past the landmines and alligators, that is.
The state fish of Georgia is the largemouth bass, which shouldn't be confused with the much more common loudmouth drunk.
The name of Georgia's largest swamp, the Okefenokee, comes from a Shawnee Indian word meaning "I'd rather live in a swamp than eat okra".
Georgia was originally populated by settlers from England and drunk people from Alabama who couldn't find their way home.
The Governor's mansion in Georgia is the only quadruple-wide trailer in America.
Some people are offended by the fact that three Confederate leaders are carved into the side of Georgia's Stone Mountain. Other people figure it's ok, since the back ends of the horses point north.
Between 2001 and 2003, the state flag of Georgia was changed 3 times. The latest version consists of a white background with black lettering that says "YOUR DESIGN HERE: $50"
In Georgia, it's considered ungentlemanly to stare at a woman's breasts while talking to her. Unless she's REALLY hot.
In the year 2227, Dr. Leonard McCoy will be born in Atlanta, Georgia and will go on to become Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise. If you already knew this, then you're a pathetic nerd who will never kiss a girl.
The most common cause of death in Georgia is getting murdered in a fight over the proper way to pronounce the word "pecan".
Georgia is the state most likely to be invaded by Jane Fonda and have its peanut oil stolen to power her tour bus.
The official state prepared food of Georgia is grits, which consists of coarsely ground bits of corn and shouldn't be confused with hog slop, which is made from coarsely ground bits of corn.
Although Georgia is already America's #1 grower of peanuts, farmers there are already working on developing a "super-peanut" which will be twice as large and shoot laser beams out of it's eyes.
They hope to use it to stop Jane Fonda.
That wraps up the Georgia edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week we'll be slipping into a grass skirt for out trip to Hawaii.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go murder someone who said "PEE-can"
August 06, 2005
Totally True Tidbits About Uranium
In honor of today (August 6th) being the 60th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, I thought I'd celebrate by posting some completely useless - and probably untrue - bits of trivia about the delightful element that makes pretty mushroom clouds possible. So here are some:
Natural uranium ore isn't concentrated enough to use in weapons, and must first be enriched - usually by stealing from minorities and the working poor.
The original motto of the United States was "E Pluribus Uranium", a Latin phrase meaning, "We will nuke you many times".
Uranium was discovered by French scientists Pierre and Marie Curie in 1898, who immediately surrendered in the face of its radioactive might.
John Bolton's moustache is made of uranium - just another reason to FEAR THE STACHE!
Saddam Hussein's moustache is NOT made of uranium - reports by Joe Wilson to the contrary notwithstanding.
Uranium is highly unstable and will decay rapidly if it doesn't brush its teeth twice daily.
Since 1945, uranium has consistently voted Republican to avoid being drafted to fight in another foreign war.
Due to its unique atomic structure, uranium possesses the power of flight when placed at the tip of a missile.
Using complex laboratory procedures, uranium can be taught to obey simple commands like "speak" and "roll over".
The word "uranium" comes from the Japanese word "Yu-hae-te-wum" which means "BOOM!"
Although poisonous in large doses, small amounts of uranium are actually nutritious, and can be found in such popular cereals as "Count Atomica" and "Nuke-lee-O's"
The chemical symbol for uranium is "U", which may explain why Joe Wilson was recently spotted sneaking around the set of Sesame Street.
"Uranium" is the only word in the English language which - if used in a Google Images search - will NOT return pictures of naked women.
"SarahK" won't either, but that's not technically a word.
Admit it. You just Google Image searched "SarahK" to see if I was right, didn't you?
You are SO going to hell for that.
In a battle between Aquaman and uranium, Aquaman would explode like a hamster in a microwave.
If uranium bites you, you will develop super powers. Use these only for good, lest you explode like Aquaman.
Despite uranium being hunted to near extinction, PeTA refuses to fight for uranium protection legislation.
This may be because uranium is bright and shiny instead of cute and furry, but this doesn't explain why PeTA annually slaughters thousands of innocent dogs.
Unless Glenn Reynolds secretly works for PeTA...
Contrary to popular myth, President Bush does NOT pronounce the word "uranium" as "u-nar-i-um".
HAPPY BOOM DAY, EVERYONE!
Ok I don't think we've promoted other convervatives podcasts enough so....
I'm going to promote one. Here is the blog of a podcast I heartily recommend. It's called Shelley the Republican.
It's by a lady named Shelley, who, hold on to your seat, is a Republican. Shocking, I know.
On her most recent podcast episode she calls Zarqhawi a turbanhead, and advocates anhilating Pakistan's mountains, where OBL is hiding, with nukes. Yeah baby!
The itunes feed the podcast of the 'Lady who is going to shut down Al-queda singlehandedly", Shelley the Republican, is here.
Guvment's Not Gonna Git My Propity
Alabama, my home state, limits eminent domain.
Haha, they can still take your house! Not mine. I bet you wish YOUR state would follow Alabama's lead.
You never thought you'd read that line and it actually be true did you?
August 05, 2005
Evil Glenn - NASA Director
Evil Glenn - NASA Director
Rumor has it that Glenn Reynolds has been tapped by NASA to improve our currently-stumbling space program.
His first priority: making sure astronauts don't starve to death if they get stuck in orbit pulling flattened spacemonkeys and other debris off the nose of the shuttle.
Now, we're all well aware of Glenn's preferred energy drink, but the problem is that normal blenders require gravity to keep the puppy in contact with the whirling blades. In a low-gravity environment, the resulting product comes out as a hideous, lumpy mess, not unlike Helen Thomas's face.
To correct this problem, Glenn has invented the zero-gravity puppy blender, as pictured in the extended entry...
360 degrees of blade-contact in 3 dimensions ensure that every puppy smoothie is extra smooth.
Darn clever fellow, that Reynolds.
It's My Blog, And I Can Be Quiet If I Want To
Sorry not to have posted the past couple days, but Frank sick. If you like recipes, make sure to check out Carnival of the Recipes hosted by the lovely and talented SarahK this week.
If you don't like recipes, then... uh... drink a Guinness!
Top 10 Reasons The US Is Moving Detainees Back To Afghanistan
By now you'd heard, the U.S. is moving some Gitmo detainees to Afghanistan. But do you know the reasons why? I just so happen to know TEN such reasons why.
10) Need to make room for new Haliburton-made Torture-matic 5000 - It chains, it hand-puppet-entertains, it makes Koran flushing a breeze! Now with patented Thermo-Scramble!
9) Many detainees have renounced terrorism and will now be our top secret double agent moles within the Al-Queda organization. But SHHHH, don't tell anyone.
8) Opinion poll shows detainees overwhelmingly prefer dry heat/dry cold fluctuations as compared to wet heat/wet cold fluctuations.
7) Cuba ran out of fresh Korans, moving need closer to the source.
6) Helen Thomas threatened to kill self if we DARE move them.
5) Honey yak is way cheaper than honey chicken ever thought about being.
4) Al Gore's new Currents TV monstrosity SUUUUUUCKS! Ok, Not really part of the top 10, it just needed to be said.
3) As a goodwill gesture to Cuba to reduce threat to coastal regions caused by fattened detainees making the commie island nation sink.
2) To clear bedspace for Richard Durbin, Jimmy Carter and the entire cast of Amnesty International.
And the number 1 reason the U.S. is moving some Gitmo detainees back to Afghanistan...
Many of these hardened bloodthirsty terrorist detainees are sleep deprived because they miss their mommies.
Live long, and score touchdowns!
However, and here's the catch, you can still use them for regular season play. The NCAA's ability to project political correctness only extends as far as their direct authority, and that's those lucrative tournaments you watch to avoid dealing with the family over News Year's.
So if you've got a really lousy team, a booster club who can't stop writing checks for sports cars and hookers, or a Board of Governors who are under the mistaken impression that budgets should be reserved for academics instead of athletics, you can pretty much have any mascot you darn well want.
I'd like to see one of those schools thumb their noses at the Establishment. Call yourselves "The Cheap Jews" or "The Deranged Soccermoms" or "The Mad Arabs" or "Crazy Horny Greeks." Just as long as you've got a big enough endowment, don't depend on state funding, and you've got plenty of freshmen to wear the costume on the sidelines nothing can go wrong. (Hint - reinforce the oversized head with Kevlar to protect from snipers in the lights.)
There's also the loophole that if you're insulting a minority that doesn't exist, you can still keep the nickname. I guess this means we'll have to wait for First Contact before the California University of Pennsylvania and the University of Hawaii-Hilo have to change their team names from the Vulcans.
By the way, word is that Dan Rather really hated being called an anchorman. He'd insist on being called a reporter or correspondent when the opportunity arose. Does this mean that Puget Sound Christian College and Rhode Island College are now frozen out of tournament play for calling their teams "Anchormen" ?
Ask Ducky - the Answers
RightWingDuck here. When I first started writing at this blog - I felt that this website had the most amazing readers.
I miss those people.
Anyway, I'm here to provide my wisdom and guidance to you. So without further delay, here are my answers to the questions that are burning a hole in your psycho. If you don't see your question below, it means it got scooped up for the podcast version.
Since hippie stench is potent enough to remove paint from automobiles, is there a way to process and purify it to be used as an alternative fuel source?
Posted by hatless in hattiesburg
Are we talking about hippie stench or automotive paint? If you're talking about hippie stench, the answer is no. Hippie stench is actually on the periodic table of elements. Or at least it appears periodically. Paint is a different issue. You could use it as fuel - a good batch of paint fumes can keep me going for days.
Why do liberals get excited when they almost win?
Posted by spacemonkey
Like Hollywood stars, Democrats lose elections, but they were honored just to be nominated.
Why do i miespel so manee wurds?
Posted by spacemonkey at August 4, 2005 11:36 AM
Im not shoor wat y ou meen. aks again please.
With Steve Forbes going to and fro doing interviews for his new book (Flat Tax Revolution) what do you think the IRS will do to save itself from it's eventual demise if the flat tax is implemented?
Posted by Laura
Remember this formula.
What is your income?
What is x% of that income?
Please pay y$ in taxes. Kindly fill out forms 1010-40R unless your income exceeded A dollars. In which case you must fill out form 1020-40R. If no such form is available please submit...
Do you get the picture. You think that because taxes are simple that paying taxes would be simple too.
I've been inspired by Jane Fonda's vegetable oil-powered vehicle. I'm going to use vegetable oil the next time that I change the oil in my 1998 Corolla. Is there one that you recommend? Corn? Soybean? Canola? Spumoni? One of those oils that they use at the massage parlor?
Posted by Silicon Valley Jim
Jim, this is the stuff I live for. Making a difference and destroying someone's car.
I mean - the making a difference thing. First, your car is 7 years old which is 41 in car years (calculated by using tax form 1010-40R). That means that choosing the wrong oil can clog your cars tubes and strand you somewhere.
I would recommend using canola oil, which is good for cars and fried chicken. Hmmm. Fried chicken.
Every notice how in the middle ages the Middle East was much more advanced than the West but no longer isn't? Is this related to how often we bomb them back to the stone age?
Posted by Trendy
Trendy, I decided to do some research on this topic. Two beers later I still couldn't make anything up. So let me share this with you. France has started most of the wars in history. They can't help it. There's something about their snoooty stinky attitude that just makes you want to invade them and hose them down.
As far as the stone age thing goes – being a backwards stone age society does have its advantages – it keeps the French from coming as tourists.
Posted by Brian
You speak with the wisdom beyond your many beers.
Interesting. KFC kills their animals so they can cook them and sell them. PETA kills their animals for – uh. Er. Um.
I think KFC should storm the PETA offices and set them on fire. Of course, I would recommend using clean burning biodiesel.
Motorcycles have keys? Why? Does that keep them from getting stolen?
Criminal #1: Back up the truck, man. I want to steal this motorcycle.
Criminal #2: Coming.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Criminal: Oh, man. There’s no keys!!!
Criminal # 2: Golly. Let’s go get ice cream.
What’s up with those hybrid and electric cards that cover the rear wheels? And are the covers bullet proof to prevent SUV drivers from shooting the tires out? Oh, that was two questions—am I allowed two questions? Err… make that three.
Posted by Pete
Look. The cars are just like their owners. So that means we either partially cover the wheel wells or we have to look at automotive armpit hair.
Did FrankJ do something to keep Harvey from striking at his home in Florida, or did Harvey wimp out and decide not to challenge FrankJ on his home turf? Is this a sign the power struggle at IMAO has subsided?
Posted by Dr. Phat Tony
I was too lazy to click the links. Are you talking about the hurricane or a real attack on Frank J. In either case – I’m sure Frank J. would spend his time hiding in a dark closet eating chunky peanut butter.
Posted by xtremerightwing
Hybrid cars are heavily customized for their owners. So you pull the Door Open Thing, sit on the Sit Thing, and step on the Go Pedal. There’s a Stop Pedal, and a Pretty Me Mirror. Many hybrids come with extra large Appeasement is Patriotic bumper stickers.
He he. Just kidding. Personally, I have nothing against hybrids. If a regular car and an electric car love each other – I think that’s all that really matters.
What country can we invade for their oil? Iraq doesn't seem to be working out. In fact, gas prices seem to have gone UP.
Posted by Alucard
First, there’s nothing we can do to keep prices from going up. The Prince dies? Gas prices go up. Michael Jackson moves to Bahrain? Gas prices go up!
However, there’s still a good selection of countries to invade. I say, invade Mexico and take their modest supply of oil. Now, most American’s would not support this kind of war, but that’s okay. Because instead of recruiting kids out of high school, we could recruit illegals and use them to invade the Mexican oil fields.
Wouldn’t THAT be ironic?
Mexican President. Why are these people - our people - invading our country?
Assistant: Sir, they’re just trying to feed their families.
Posted by Tennessee Budd
Hee hee. It does when you speak Arabic with a Tennessee accent. hee hee. BTW, this segment is no longer called Dr. Duck. Because when they say it in Tennessee it sounds pornographic.
If Hitlery er I mean Hillary were to take a contract out on Hanoi John while he was riding a donkey, would the rumor be:
An ass wants the ass assassinated on his ass?
Posted by Ricky at August 4, 2005 06:47 PM
That seems accurate. Or as my Magic 8 Ball would say: “You bet your ass!”
Dear Dr. Duck,
What fuel do you see used twenty years form now? How about fifty? Also, will we ever have cold fusion cars?
Posted by German-American Matt
Hmmm. Based on our history and our advancement of technology at an amazing pace. Factoring in our ability to change and adapt. Adjusting for growth cycles and trends – I guess the fuel of the future to be – oil.
We might have cold fusion cars. But they’d probably drive around with the Check Engine light on.
What's the square root of two?
Posted by Dirkwood at August 4, 2005 07:13 PM
Of two what? People? Animals? See, this is why I don’t like math questions.
Posted by SkyeChild
Yes, but upon their return the space film footage would show how the astronauts spent their time setting things on fire and killing poor space babies.
Posted by Coleman
Little known fact. During WWII, the Germans tried this with the surrendering French troops – there were simply so many of them they didn’t know what to do. Sadly, they hit upon the same technical difficulty we would face today – too oily and too smelly.
How come my Prof. Stephen Hawking post wasn't in the Carnival of Comedy, when the time stamp on the submission was 11:44pm and the deadline was midnight? Do you hate disabled people?
Posted by a4g
I’m sorry, a4g, I didn’t know you were disabled. We’ll allow for more time next week. Especially since I’m not hosting it.
Now that the price of oil has finally gotten up there where only us wealthy American's can afford it. Would I impress my friends if I started mixing drinks with Light Sweet Brent Crude?
Posted by Ron Rockstar
Yes. And serve it in cups made of solid gold. Remember, excess is good. Bwu ha ha.
Posted by SeanS
Right now the Moose – or as they like to be called The Native Moose Americans – are still caught up in a messy lawsuit. We’ll probably be able to drill on their land – but we’ll have to give them the right to open casinos.
So, Ducky, does buying a Toyota Prius (or Honda Insite) make a man homosexual or do the homosexuals natuarally gravitate to such wimpy, girlish vehicles?
Posted by shane
Your argument is what is referred to as a Ad Village People-im attack.
Philosophically speaking, there are a few very specific acts that makes a man a homosexual – and buying a car ain’t one of ‘em.
So if you’re a guy and you’ve been debating buying a Toyota Prius or Honda Incite – well – just go out there and buy it!!
Well, that’s all for this week. I’m so glad I was able to pass on my bits of wisdom to you. It is my goal that reading this weekly column will either make you a bit smarter – or a few minutes older.
I think I’ve done well.
August 04, 2005
I guess Mega M&Ms are here to stay.
A new line of Mega M&M's, which on average are 55 percent bigger than the originals, were introduced Thursday at Grand Central Station in Manhattan.
I disagree. You're still leaving people out. And according to people like Ken Livingstone and George Galloway, if you don't include people, they end up being excluded and driven to terrorism.
We can't have that, can we?
So, in the spirit of inclusion and multiculural sensitivity/diversity, what's next in the world of M&Ms?
If you don't see these varieties of M&Ms, rough up your neighborhood grocer today until he puts them on the shelves.
(Don't believe his lies! He's hiding them in the back!)
Open Thread (Just Like On Kos! Except Without Moonbats)
Talk about Terrorism, War, slutty cheerleaders, idiotic liberals spouting their conspirational nonsense, Military Coups, Bolton, Rove, or Who's gonna run in 2008?
Pimp your blog, book, podcast, contest, carnival, fundraiser, favorite hair treatment, whatever!
Go crazy! Get loco! Shoot the moon! Or Nuke it.
Did I mention there's a special prize for every 50th commenter who's not involved in comment flooding (multiple consecutive comments)? No?
Update: I meant comments, not cemments. Sometimes....grrrr.
Carnival of Comedy 14
Yay! This weeks Carnival of Comedy is at Ducky's place
He, in typical RightWingdDuck fashion,
It's too late to enter this week. But entries for next week's carnival at Conservathink are on-time.
We are ready to receive them go here for details. Man I really need to update that page.
Ask Ducky - Podcast
Yes, I, RightWingDuck, have all the answers. But they're worthless without any questions.
So once again it is time for Ask Ducky. Would you like to hear your name mentioned on the podcast? Of course you would - that would make you famous and beloved by people all over the world. You'd walk down the streets of Paris (because you had just accepted its unconditional surrender) and people would run up to you saying, "Didn't I hear Ducky mention your name on IMAO?"
Yep. Life would be good.
So post those questions!! This week I'd like to know if you have questions on oil, alternative fuel sources, or energy policy questions. As always, you are also free to choose your own topic.
Look here for some freeper funny.
Speaking of Yosemite Sam and his doppelganger John Bolton. Does this mean that Voinivich and the other liberal whiny babies against his UN Ambassadorship are...
August 03, 2005
What Others Are Doing
Apparently, while working on his next essay, Whittler is also working on screenplay so that there might actually be a patriotic movie out there. Hopefully he won't make the first-timer's screenplay mistake and forget to include ninjas.
Michelle Malkin has a small preview of her next book. So when will I have a preview of my next (first) book? Soon. Stop bugging me.
Do you know the blogger Venomous Kate?
Well, she needs our help. She recently had a biking accident and lost a few teeth. Yep, LOTS of expensive dental work is coming up. But the good news is that dental appointments are lots of fun - oh wait a minute.
So please go to her site and drop a small bit of change in her paypal account. A bunch of people donating just a little bit of money each can make a big difference.
No front teeth on the top. No front teeth on the bottom. Cracked molars in the back! Whoa!
Won't you please help Venomous Kate?
She's everything a right wing blogger should be. Funny. Venomous at times. With a great smile. AND NOW IT'S GONE! You can help!
"They are good at running away."
IMAO BLOGGER SCOTT ON INSTANT MESSAGE CHAT WITH FELLOW BLOGGER HOMOCON TUESDAY AUGUST 2...
SCOTT: Wow, it looks like an Air France flight caught fire trying to land at a Toronto Airport.
HOMOCON: Accident or terrorism?
SCOTT: Not sure. All of the passengers and flight crew are running away from the burning wreckage!
HOMOCON: Well, they are French. They're good at running away and have practiced it countless times in the past century or so.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 7 - Security
Being so civilized, Nar Valdum had full monitoring of all traffic coming onto the planet. Frankly, I don't like civilization.
"Dip, I am growing impatient."
"Would you like to play twenty questions, Rico? You think of something, and then I'll try to guess it. It will help me learn."
"No, Dip, I want ground control. Any indication of how much longer we have to wait?"
"They simply say we are in a queue and will get to us soon. So, do you want to play twenty questions?"
Didn't have much else to do. "Fine. I thought of something."
"Is it animal, vegetable, mineral, or other?"
"Is it violence?"
Dip processed silently for a moment. "That game did not help me learn anything."
"Life is full of disappointment, Dip. Perhaps you learned that."
"I already derived that knowledge, Rico. I have good news for you, though: ground control is hailing us."
"This is Nar Valdum ground control," came a voice over the ship's speakers, "What is your business here?"
My guess is that a normal person would be a little irate at this point, so I decided to go with that. "Landing… not just floating here all day."
"We are sorry for the wait, but security measures have been increased because of the sentient species diversity conference. Are you here for that?"
"Yes." Increased security measures? This job kept looking like more and more fun.
"How long is your planned stay?"
Five days. "Seven days."
"How many sentients are aboard your vessel?"
"Human. Haven't you scanned my ship?"
"Just confirming data. Does your ship have weaponry?"
None you'll find. "Just basic defensive measures... if you'd call them weapons."
"Your course for landing and ship identification are being sent to you. Please keep the ship identification in your memory banks for the length of your stay."
I checked the onscreen map. "That's a completely different continent than the conference!"
"Security measures," ground control answered. He sounded weary.
"Good to know I'll be safe, at least." I ended the communication. "Dip, take her down." Hopefully they wouldn’t try searching my ship when I landed, or my initial stay would be short and bloody.
"While we're landing, I have something for you to try guessing in twenty questions, Rico."
I manually accessed Dip's memory buffer and looked for an unusual sequence repeated over and over. "Is it a shoe?"
"Hope you learned something from that."
BRACE FOR THIS ONE: A Democratic has lost an election.
I know; unbelieveable.
Or, I guess you would think it is with all the muckadoos who are in a tivvy over this.
Is "tivvy" a word, or did I make that up?
Seriously, though, you'd think the Democrats would be used to losing by now. I guess they kinda are; they're spinning a somewhat close special election loss as a "win." I guess when you never win elections anymore, you have to rate your success on how close you came to not being a loser.
Heh. Bunch of losers.
What are your crappy bedtime stories?
Hi. I'm your friend Laurence Simon, but it's not yet time for another Crappy Bedtime Story.
Yeah, some of y'all have been enjoying the Crappy Bedtime Stories I tell on IMAO's Podcast every week, and a few sickos out there have even asked about a burned CD archive of them or something like that.
I repeat: sickos! Sick sick sickos!
Anyway, these are the stories from my childhood, handed down through the deranged and twisted generations of my family. However, there's so many tales that others have heard, different variants based on the insane xenophobic fears of your ancestors as expressed in nursery tales.
Therefore, I'm calling upon you to share your own Crappy Bedtime Stories as you were told, and which stories you plan on telling your own little ones before Child Protective Services mercifully hauls them away.
The comments are open, phone lines are standing by, and remember, that it's never to late to start warping little minds. Unless, of course, they're old enough to have a gun like those Menendez Brothers had.
By the way, each Crappy Bedtime Story has been thoroughly tested on one of my three cats. I used to test them all on our fourth cat, Edloe, but she died recently.
The vet says it wasn't the Crappy Bedtime Stories that killed her, but you try telling that to the hordes of placard-waving anti-Animal Testing PETA protestors at my front door!
The nerve of some folks!
We Can't Conqure the World Until We Have Giant War Robots
An Editorial by Frank J.
When I was a young boy fishing with my dad, I saw another fisherman catch a fish and then set it back in the water. I asked my father what was happening.
"It's called ‘catch and release,’ son."
"Why does he do that?" I inquired.
"Because he's a homosexual, that's why." My dad then looked me in the eye and said with great serious, "When you defeat something, it must die. That is the way of the world."
"We're catching and releasing, just like the homosexual fisherman."
"But what if we catch a fish we don't want?"
"Then we chuck in the woods and watch and laugh as it dies. That's what a real man does."
About that time, the park ranger came and said it looked like we caught our limit. My dad then replied that the only thing there was a limit to was "his patience." After the fight, I got to see the inside of a police station, which was fun.
I learned a lot that day, but apparently my hippy brother, Joe foo' the Marine, never learned the same lesson. When I last got a phone call from him telling me about his mission in Iraq, he described how, when he took out photos of his family, a large group of Iraqis formed around him to see.
"Interesting ploy," I said, "Now that you had them in one place, did you kill them all at once."
"So what then? You rounded them all up to be slave labor in our new underground Iraqi oil mines?"
"No! The whole idea here is to help the Iraqis get themselves a good government and stop all the terrorist attacks on them. Then we can leave the country back to them."
"I HAVE NO BROTHER!" I shouted before hanging up the phone. See, that's the problem with our troops today: they give a human face to our country. With how they get along with the Iraqis and help school children goes against the very goal of our military - conquering all the world into one giant American Empire. Instead, we're catching and releasing, just like the homosexual fisherman.
No one even seems to understand anymore that conquest is the ultimate goal of any nation. Sure, we can have Allies now and then, but their foreignness will be trouble down the line. To have true peace, all must be defeated and subjugated, and I just don't see today's military doing that. They have to be brutal and merciless, and that just ain't happening.
So, the solution is, as always, giant deadly robots - robots that never had Isaac Asimov's three laws of robotics anywhere near them. They will take the place of troops in conquered countries, watching the citizens with their uncaring eyes. They will be unmoving sentinels... unmoving, that is, until one of those we subjugated stops slaving away to the benefit of America.
This is our utopian future, and it's time to make real steps towards it. To make these robots, we need someone who knows things about circuits and electricity and stuff... someone like me! Also, I would prefer the robots to be black with red eyes, but I'd settle for them being metallic gray with any sort of glowing eyes.
The American Empire won't make itself; it's time for deadly robots. When we have them, then we can sit back and watch and laugh as foreigners flop around like fish in the woods.
Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us and is a frequent contributor to IMAOPodcast.com. He is also the author of such books as "Robots Are Our Future; Children Are Our Past" and "Taxes Are for Foreigners".
Recently a U.N. panel was created to recommend how the Internet should be run in the future. Here are some excerpts from the report:
No single country will be allowed to dominate the internet. Since the US is a single country, it must either get out of the internet business, or get married. Possibly to Mexico, since she looks hot in a bikini.
All internet sites will be approved by the international community, i.e. France, and any site without the official "cheese and beret" seal of approval will have resolutions passed against it.
The United States will enforce these resolutions on behalf of the UN in the face of international disapproval and ingratitude. If successful, must give full credit to France.
Any rapidly propagating viruses that slow down overall internet traffic speed will be blamed on the JOOOOOOOS!
All information posted to the internet will first be fact-checked by the Daily Kos Ministry of Truth.
The following phrases will be banned: "poofy hair", "filthy hippy", "communist", "ronin".
What grudge against IMAO?
Google will change the "Google Search" button on its home page to say "I [heart] the UN"
The "I'm Feeling Lucky" button will become "Oil For Food was a Legitimate Program that Saved Millions of Children from Cruel Starvation due to Unnecessary US Sanctions and NOT a Money Laundering Scheme Designed to Line the Pockets of Corrupt UN Bureaucrats".
All "adult content" web sites will cover naughty bits with little pictures of blue helmets.
All "adult content" sites will be thoroughly reviewed for compliance.
Until the US buys high-speed wireless internet access for all of Africa, everyone gets AOL and dial-up.
Except for those engaged in official UN compliance reviews.
All PayPal transactions must receive approval from Dr. Mbeki Salingo of Nigeria.
All bloggers will display the flags of every nation across the top of their home pages. Violators will be resolutioned.
No bushy moustaches. They frighten us.
Remember folks, John Bolton is the only thing standing between the free people of the world and the nightmare outlined above.
And for you power-hungry one-worlders, just three words:
John Hawkins, Enemy of the State
ALERT: Do not visit RightWingNews.com. It was brought to my attention that RightWingNews.com is blocked by web filters of the U.S. Army Reserves, and we can only assume the reason is because John Hawkins is a subversive - possibly a Communist. If the Army deems him unacceptable, then I deem him unacceptable too and will immediately remove him from my blogroll... when I finally get to updating it in four or five years, that is.
Happy Birthday, Baby Torres!
Baby Torres was born yesterday. Here's the e-mail update I got:
The Torres and Rollin families are proud to announce that Mrs. Susan Torres gave birth at 8:18 am on Tuesday, August 2, 2005 to Susan Anne Catherine Torres. The baby weighs 1 pound 13 ounces and measures 13 ˝ inches long.
It is quite a sad story, but, thanks to so many people's concern, some happiness has come out of it.
UPDATE: Here's the AP report.
August 02, 2005
Texas Sales Tax Holiday
As a public service announcement to all IMAO readers, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you that this weekend is the Texas Sales Tax Holiday:
Texas shoppers get a break from state and local sales taxes on August 5, 6, and 7--the state's seventh annual tax holiday. Lay-away plans can be used again this year to take advantage of the sales tax holiday.
Included in the list of tax-free items are: Pajamas, Robes, Underclothes, and Shorts.
According to various angry denizens of the MSM who have found themselves on the wrong side of the Blogosphere's ire, I guess that's pretty much everything a blogger needs. So come on down to Texas this weekend and load up on your blogwear sales tax-free!
One word of warning: just don't murder anyone while you're here. We got plenty of needles to go around, and the Governor turns his phone off after ten.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 6 - Politics
I went to my ship and headed out of orbit of planet something-or-other to have a little privacy for the call. Dip would be listening in, but Dip is usually listening in. If you can't trust a computer algorithm to keep your secrets, then who can you trust?
"Rico, how's your vacation been?"
This is where a video hookup would be nice, because I have the perfect scowl for him that would communicate exactly how much I do not want to do chit-chat with this idiot. With only voice, my options are sarcasm or some harsh response border-lining on a growl. I decided to go with sarcasm for the added challenge.
"Super-duper, Vito. So how's your week been? Seen any movies lately? How has the weather been where you are?"
There was a long silence. I probably imitated cheerful interest too well that he didn't immediately catch the sarcasm. My understanding of sarcasm is you usually overdo the tone, and I didn't quite do that.
"I... uh... guess I'll get to business."
"Good thinking, Vito."
"I heard back from the higher ups. They said with your last job, it was just plain bad information. They knew the guy was there, weren't sure who he was, and thought he'd be more obvious to spot. They're giving you ten percent more on that one for handling it so well despite the trouble."
"I'd rather have an assurance it won't happen again. So, do you have a new job for me?"
"Yes I do, but it’s encoded for your eyes only. Guess I won't be able to help you on this one."
"And that's different from the previous ones how?"
Vito laughed for about a second until he realized he was the only one laughing. Not a bright man. I see his future in the crime syndicate as maybe being a fall-guy one day. He'd have to smarten up to be a convincing fall-guy, though."
"I'll transmit the info now." A display in front of me showed I received a file. "Did you get it?"
I answered by hanging up. I don't particularly hate Vito; I just don't like people in general and lately I've had to deal with him more than anyone else.
"Dip, can you decode that for me."
"Certainly, Rico." He was silent for a moment. "Interesting. You'll be killing a Senator."
On screen was Senator Rhyle Gredler of the Galactic Alliance - the biggest governing body in the known universe. He was a Corridian as we call them by the human tongue - a species with a reddish-orange bumpy skin and purple about the face (bleeds red, but a darker red than human blood). In five days there was going to be a summit on harmony among sentient species at the capital city of planet Nar Valdum - a long populated and well developed planet. I was to kill Senator Gredler as he gave his speech at the summit.
"This is interesting. Usually, if the syndicate wanted some big time politician dead, they'd be discreet about it. With me, it's going to be a big show, and, from the looks of it, lots of collateral damage."
"So the question would be why would they want a 'big show?'" Dip offered.
"Not my concern. Going to be some repercussions from this, though. Here’s some data for you, Dip: When polled, sentients usually say they do not, in general, like politicians. Yet, they get very angry when you kill them."
"Do you think this will be more difficult than usual for you, Rico?"
A Galactic Senator would have a large force of well-trained bodyguards standard. After killing the VIP, the news of the crime would spread far and wide leaving me with a lot of planets to avoid. "You concerned about me, Dip?"
"I'm just trying to be helpful. That is my job."
"Then be helpful by setting a jump to Nar Valdum." I had never voted before; it would be interesting to finally be a part of the political process.
Carnival Of Comedy Reminder
Don't forget, the Carnival of Comedy is coming up Thursday, Aug 4th! YAY!!!
RightWingDuck will be hosting the carnival at his Right Wing Duck Blog this week. Thanks Ducky! This will make the second time, RightWingDuck has hosted the carnival. Can he meet or exceed our expectations? Will he be as excited as he was last time??? I quote
Want to host?
Still have questions?
MSM + Limbaugh vs. IMAO Podcasts
The MSM has done an absolutely pathetic job of educating the general public about podcasts. To date, most podcast articles have judiciously avoided conservative podcasters like IMAO and heaped praise on the podcasts that are pornographic while never letting on that ANYONE WITH A COMPUTER AND SPEAKERS CAN LISTEN TO A PODCAST.
Let me give you some facts that the MSM won't give you about podcasting:
I guess everyone at the New York Times uses an Apple Mac, can afford an overpriced iPod, and assumes the rest of us in the "fly-over states" use our computers exactly like they do.
Speaking of conservatives and podcasting, Rush Limbaugh has said he legitimized podcasting overnight because he makes his show available as a podcast... No, all he did was take the MP3 of his show that anyone with a paid subscription to his Rush 24/7 service gets as part of their subscription fee, had his staff strip out the music, and then call it a podcast.
Limbaugh charges people for his podcast. IMAO doesn't.
You figure out who's giving you, the fans, a better deal on podcasting.
Air America Drinks the Blood of Children
If you haven't heard about it yet, Michelle Malkin has been on top of the story about how Air America has been stealing money from children to pay for their horrible broadcasting. I could see stealing from children to pay for the IMAO Podcast... but Air America?
Is Air America also selling poison milk to school kids? I've seen no evidence of this, but, from how deranged Al Franken normally looks, it must be assumed!
Just more evidence for my theory that Liberals hate humanity.
In My World: Recess Appointment
"I would just like to say that the misdeeds of the Bush Administration can not go ignored!" Ted Kennedy said on the Senate floor, "He's like a drunkenness that overtakes us and causes us to careen off a bridge. Maybe we can get ourselves out of that car, but there are still others left, sinking inside. Calling the police would seem to some to be the best course of action, but that's not what I'm going to do. That's not what the American people would want. That's..."
A bell rung.
The Congress all cheered and ran out back to the Capitol playground. Some went for the swing sets while others played hop scotch. Another group played touch football.
"You tagged me too hard!" Voinovich yelled and then started crying.
"Give the ball back!" Frist yelled at Hillary.
"No! It's mine!" Hillary answered, running off.
Unknown to Congress, they were being watched from afar.
President Bush set down his binoculars. "Good, the fools are all at recess. It is time to unleash... THE BOLTON! Muh ha ha ha!"
"Are you mad?" Scott McClellan shouted, "He's been locked in there waiting for a vote for weeks now! He's gotten even crazier! He'll..."
Scott was silenced with a backhand to the face. "Quiet, fool!" Bush yelled. "Condi, will do the honors and release him?"
"Certainly," Condoleezza Rice answered as she smiled evilly. She then grabbed a rope connected to a lock on the steel doors. With a yank, the lock was undone. Suddenly, the iron doors were smashed open.
"Bolton smash!" Bolton screamed, his mustache bristling with anger, "Bolton destroy!"
"Control him!" Bush commanded Condi.
"You want to destroy the U.N.," Condi told Bolton in a soothing voice, "It's the U.N. you hate."
"Bolton... crush... U.N.!" Bolton shouted and then stomped off.
A red rubber ball landed near Bush's feet. Harry Reid then came running after it grumbling, "If Santorum was the one who kicked it so hard, he should have to go get it." Reid then saw Bush and Bolton storming off in the distance. "You appointed Bolton while we were at recess!" he shouted at Bush, "You're a doo-doo head! That's what you are!"
"Get back to recess," Bush answered as he picked up the ball, "I'll help you play." He threw the ball as hard as he could into Reid's face, knocking him to the ground and breaking his glasses. "There, you're out."
"We were playing kickball, not dodgeball," Reid cried. "You're the meanest President ever!"
"Throw him into the Pit of Doom!" Bush commanded Scott.
"We don't have a Pit of Doom."
"Then throw him into the... uh... Potomac."
"That's not really my job as Press Secretary..."
Bush smacked Scott again. "DO IT!"
* * * *
"The Bolton is coming!" Kofi Annan screeched, "Someone fill out the paperwork needed to allow guns to be fired in defense of the U.N."
The bureaucrats got hard at work. Kofi then handed the papers out to the armed guards instructing them on the two places they had to initial and where to sign and date at the bottom.
"Bolton destroy U.N.!" came a cry. Kofi looked out to see Bolton emerge from the water, walking in steady pace towards the U.N. Headquarters.
"Quick!" Kofi screamed, "Someone notarize those documents so we can begin shooting at him!"
A couple notary publics raced to stamp the documents. Then, the guard opened fire on Bolton.
This made Bolton so enraged he put his hand on his hips. He shouted, "'Stache Strength!" and then his mustached glowed until the glow covered all of Bolton. Now the bullets merely deflected off of him as he continued slowly walking towards the U.N. Headquarters.
"The Bolton is unstoppable!" screamed one aide.
"What do we do now?" a diplomat cried.
Kofi Annan stood still as he watched Bolton come ever closer. "We die."
* * * *
"In local news, a tubby man was seen throwing Senator Reid into the Potomac," the anchorwoman said, "Now back to our top story: The U.N. Headquarters, upon accepting Bolton as the U.S. Ambassador, has been reduced to a radioactive pile of rubble."
"Bolton 'reformed' the U.N. even quicker than I hoped," Bush laughed, "Muh ha ha ha!"
"No evil laughter in bed!" Laura shouted as she turned off the T.V.
We Thrive on Your Feedback
Speaking of the IMAO Podcast (and make sure to check out these new clips if you don't have a fast enough connection to download the entire thing), what do you think was the funniest moment this week (my favorite was Sarah's line in the "Death Ray" sketch)? Who are your favorite podcasters (it's a big switch going from writing to speaking with good comic timing)? Any types of sketches you want to see (I may invite Musashi back to give more practical advice if people like him)? Any of you listen to other podcasts, and, if so, which ones?
BTW, we want a new tagline for the podcast. Any ideas?
The IMAO Podcast: It's like poison for your ears... you know, the one Claudius killed Hamlet's father with... that sort of poison
Oh, and please vote for the IMAO Podcast at Podcast Alley if you have't already this new month. I know this vote drive is annoying, but it's only once a month, and, by keeping us in the top ten, it gets us more plublicity (we already got mentioned in an article on podcasting because of it).
We have a lot of fun and agony making these, so thanks for all your support. Now, if you be good and answer my questions, I'll give you a funny IMW today.
New IMAO Podcast Teasers!
If you haven't heard the latest IMAO Podcast yet, here are a couple of teasers from Monday's podcast to whet your appetite for more IMAO podcasty goodness:
These MP3 sound files will play on Windows, Mac, and Linux PCs and are small enough to fit into an e-mail and send to your friends and family (hint-hint).
Want to hear the whole thing? Go to the IMAO Podcast website and download it now!
REMINDER: Please remember to VOTE FOR IMAO at Podcast Alley!
COMING SOON: Details on how you can meet IMAO Podcasters in person and support the IMAO Podcasting cause. Check back on the blog very soon for the official announcement.
August 01, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 5 - A Psychopath's Vacation
So Dip wakes me up when we land on good 'ole planet something-or-other. I guess each planet is unique in its own way - like each person is unique in his own way - but I'm more concerned with what's the same. What things can I expect no matter where I go? What behavior can I expect no matter what sort of sentient I deal with? This is how I survive. This is how I live.
As you know, my job is to kill people. There are two main parts to that job - the killing and the not getting killed. The second part is never specified in jobs I'm assigned by the syndicate, but, if I die, I don't get paid... and I only consider a job done when I get paid.
Most of the time my jobs involve going some place I've never been killing people I've never met. But, when you've been so many places and killed so many people, it all starts to blend together. I can predict most cities’ layouts from all the other places I've been. I can predict how people react when I barge into a place shooting from all the other sentients I've shot down. Of course, I'm surprised every now and then (surprises make things interesting), but it's happens less and less often.
The way I see my career as a hitman going is I'll either end up dead or bored (guess which one I'm betting on).
Now, interacting with people gun to gun is one thing, talking to people in what most would consider a normal everyday interaction is extremely difficult for me. As I freely admit, I'm a psychopath - my mind does not work like that of normal sentients. I have very little human emotions and completely lack what people call morals or values. I'm just incapable of them. To me, killing a man is just another action - like eating, sleeping, walking, etc. I understand the concepts of "guilt" and "horror" that people might have in reaction to violent actions, I just don't share them. I have no desire to share them. But, I still need to interact with normal sentients without them thinking (correctly) that I'm a psychopath, and that means I have to act like a normal human.
And that's harder than you might think.
Quick question: What would be the expected reaction from a crowd of people who saw you stomp to death a child's puppy? I bet you could answer that right away. Me, it took a couple minutes to logically deduct (and, no, I didn't find out that hard way). What most people just "know" without effort is mentally taxing for me.
So, yes, I avoid people. First thing I did when landing on planet-something-or-other was buy a few supplies (you can usually be curt and emotionless in simple financial transaction without standing out) and then went out to some remote area to practice shooting.
I like shooting... even more since the surgery to my brain. I actually have a part of my brain separated just for targeting things with my left hand. When it works right, I'm actually perceiving and targeting two things at once - it's really hard to describe other than to say it’s fun (and, yes, before you think I'm a total freak, I do have fun - I just don't smile when I do). Shooting is most important, anyway, because my whole life revolves around killing people, and I do that primarily through shooting (I'm okay with hand to hand combat and know a little demolitions, but fast and accurate shooting is my bread and butter).
It's nice to have a purpose in life. Most people - almost all - have no real focus. That basic nature they have and I lack pushes them through life with little logical analysis. I, on the other hand, always know why I'm doing something. I shoot so I can kill better. I exercise and eat right so I'm physically fit enough to run after people I want to shoot. And, because it's needed, I talk to people, because it helps to understand people to kill them.
Oh, and I like nature shows. Always great predator/prey dynamics going on with non-sentients that I find useful. Not much else on T.V. is very interesting. I could watch the news, but that mainly just gives me insight on news anchors and news editors - not common targets. Also, dramas are nearly useless because that just gives me insight into actors, writers, cinematographers, and directors - also not common targets. I get plenty of new ideas, though, from watching non-sentients either kill or survive seemingly certain death. When you get someone to a life and death situation, there's not much separating him from an animal.
If I weren't so disciplined, I'd spend all day watching nature shows (Dip watches them with me; I don't think he gets too much out of them, though, based on the question he'll ask which usually deal with specifics about the creatures we watched). Because I am disciplined, on my downtime, I go into town and talk to people as part of my training.
I do not think you can understand how quickly this mentally drains me. I use a few rules to keep from getting into big trouble, the main being I do not use violence outside of finishing a job or defense of my own life. I don't even kill insects; that might seem to take it to an extreme since everyone else kills them all the time, but I just know I'm going to run into some situation where killing an insect is inappropriate, and I don't want to waste mental power on figure when that is. While in town on planet something-or-another, some alien tried to pickpocket me. I just gently swatted him away. Maybe breaking his hand would have been appropriate, but too many variables to consider there.
No violence is enough to keep me from looking like a psychopath and instead, at worst, appear as someone who is simply rude. I try to do better, though.
It's funny (as in odd; not as in makes me laugh); what most people would consider hard sentient interactions are the easiest for me to imitate just by observation. Picking up women, for instance - so easy it's not even a science (yes, lock up your daughters; this psychopath can seduce about any woman). My lack of an emotional investment helps, and I just follow a few routines I've figured out. Mainly not useful interactions, though; never been assigned to kill a bar-hopping human female.
The real challenge is what most refer to as chit-chat. Someone tells me about their life or day, and I am supposed to react and reply in some standard manner I've yet to fully decode. I have this slight smile I use (bad when smile not appropriate), and I have this head nodding rate for listening (too slow, not noticeable; too fast, people look at you weird). Have made up life and days I got from listening to other people to use in response ("Well, you should have heard what happened to me today..."). I'm getting very good, but I still laugh when I shouldn't or don't laugh when I should. I usually try to recover by blaming the fallibility of the universal translator. If I run into someone speaking basic human, then I just have to play along with that I'm intolerably rude and anger the person into storming away (rude people are quite common and not suspicious).
On top of all this, sentients are extremely boring as a rule. And, as I said, they all seem alike; I'd swear I keep running into the same people no matter what planet I go to. So it’s all this mentally taxing work for so little gain. Still, I learn a little bit each time I attempt talkee-talk, and you never know when that little bit will keep you alive or help keep someone else not alive.
After a week of training on planet something-or-another, I finally get a call back from Vito. Talking to him is easy since it's mostly just about being threatening, and, when threatening, the complicated graces of normal conversations are thrown out the window.
First Day Of The Month, Vote!
It's a brand spanking new month and there'll be a brand spanking new IMAO podcast up in a few minutes or hours or something. Update: it's up.
So why not take a moment and cast a brand spanking new vote for the IMAO podcast at podcast alley?
Update and BUMP: Air America is spanking us!
Vote for IMAO or Al Franken and AirDeadbeat win!
Update 2: We are ahead of Air America! Good job, Ronin! We are just two little votes shy of breaking into the top ten.
Know Thy Enemy: Ants
This weekend, I tried to pull out all the weeds in my front yard so my HOA wouldn't yell at me. But, after pulling out a certain weed patch, I uncovered an ant nest, and they attacked me and everything.
IN MY OWN YARD!
Now I have itchy bumps on my hand that itch. To help others, I sent my crack research team to find out all they can about the diabolical ant.
FUN FACTS ABOUT ANTS
* Ants live in colonies, just like bees and early Americans.
* While bees communicate through a dance, ants communicate through musical theater.
* Much like the potato, ants live in the ground. They only emerge to commit acts of evil... also like the potato.
* With ants, all the laborers are female while the male just sit around or sometimes have wings and can fly. Ain't that sweet.
* Oh, so that's how to get rid of ants for good - feminism.
* The queen ant, contrary to popular belief, in not a flaming homosexual male ant but instead the female leader of the ant colony.
* The queen ant produces all the off-spring for the colony. If she were able to collect welfare checks for all her children, she'd be like the richest woman in America - richer than Oprah.
* Your parents’ sisters may be referred to as "Aunts" which is spelled differently but pronounced the same as "ants." Aunts usually take a much larger dose of pesticide to kill.
* Large swarms of ants have been known to attacks towns and kill people. I'm not sure if these ants are the same as you'd find in your yard, but I'm not saying they ain't. Assume all ants to be extremely deadly and out to kill you and your family.
* If surrounded by an angry ant swarm, the ants are too small for knives and bullets. I recommend a flamethrower.
* If you don't normally keep a flamethrower on you, then, frankly, you're too dumb to live.
* If you see a single ant, he may run off and warn others to swarm you. Destroy by stamping.
* An animals rights activist might not like you killing an ant. Destroy by stamping.
* Some ants actually eat wood. These are called termites.
* And they aren't ants.
* An ant farm is a great way to learn about ant evil in the convience of your own home. If you get tired of the tunnels they dug, an ant farm is reset the same way as an Etch-A-Sketch.
* Ants have body parts called the abdomen and thorax. One of those sting you, but I'm not sure which. I'd say stay away from both.
* If stung by ants, it can cause itchy bumps which make it hard to type fun facts about ants to warn other with. This is yet another of their natural defenses.
* Ants can lift fifty times their own weight, but, come one, what's like the heaviest ant you ever seen?
* In a fight between ants and Aquaman, ants would eat Aquaman's eyes, cruelly leaving him alive and even more useless than before.
* Ants will often invade your home and take it over. This is legal thanks to the Kelo decision.
* Ants have six legs, six being the number of the devil!
* I guess a seven-legged beast would be really holy and really awkward.
* Ants can be killed with a poison called "ant poison." You could try using rat poison instead, but rats might steal it all first. Those thieving rat bastards!
* You can use bait traps to try to kill ants, but they say right on the side "KILLS ANTS DEAD!" I'm not saying ants can read, but no one has proven they can't.
* Ants will often bother you at a picnic. A good way to keep them away is to put up a sign that says, "NO ANTS."
* I know you can read, you ant bastards!
You Will Fear the Mustache
President Bush has appointed John Bolton to be the U.N. Ambassador through the power of recess appointments. Once the Democrats in Congress are doing playing on their swing sets and come back from recess, expect them to make much noise in impotent rage.
It will be too late, though. There is no stopping the Bolton. He will soon march into the U.N. Headquarters full of hands on his hips anger, and IMAO predicts there will be no survivors.
The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln - Chapter 1
Well, here I am. And I really wish you'd spell my name right. I mean, is our president Jorge Busch? Or do you spell Pele... um... how do you screw up Pele's name?
Anyway, since you've really enjoyed my Crappy Bedtime Stories and haven't lynched me for them yet, I've decided to share a few more stories with you.
Abraham Lincoln was our 16th President. You probably think you've heard everything about the man, from his birth in a log cabin to his death at Ford's Theater. You've heard his many wise words of wise wisdom over the years.
Well, there's more to the story. And that's where The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln come into play, exploring the Horrible Truth about some of those famous wise words of wisdom we all know and love... but in just one hundred words at a time!
In Adventure Number One, we join Slightly-Less-Than-Honest Abe and his somewhat insane wife Mary Todd Lincoln in the White House...
Abraham looked down and winced.
Stay tuned to IMAO for the further Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln, one hundred words at a time!
(No Abraham Lincolns were harmed in the production of this story.)
Saudi Arabia's King Fahd died today. I think that was a good idea. I hope more of the Saud royal family follows in his footsteps. Crown Prince Abdullah has now been appointed king. Whether he will follow the precedent set by his father and die soon is yet to be seen. Maybe President Bush could give Abdullah a phone call.
"I hear your father died today; that was decent of him."
Do you know what was King Fahd's last words? I'll tell you.
"Faithful, radical Islamists, whatever you do, do not read the infidel website IMAO.us or listen to their podcast, or vote for said podcast (now that it's a new month). Allah shall surely turn His wrath on you if you do... unless I'm wrong about this Islamic religion... which I probably am. Then God - Who hated being called Allah - will shower you with present instead of wrath. Erggharrghhgeerwageeeeeeeeehhhhhh. Now I am dead."
He died as he lived - a big fat Saud wearing a man-dress.
New IMAO Podcast for Monday
This week will be the 60th anniversary of the first use of the atom bomb in warfare and the IMAO Bloggers embrace the coolness of do-it-yourself superweapons in the August 1, 2005 IMAO Podcast
In this week's IMAO Podcast:
The Fake Kevin makes an appearance in this podcast so it's probably going to be a collector's item someday.
Visit our sister site IMAO Podcast to download the sound file now. (NOTE: You can listen to the IMAO Podcast even if you don't have an Apple iPod.)
IMPORTANT: If you subscribed to the IMAO Podcast before July 18, you must update your Apple iTunes and iPodder RSS feed for the IMAO Podcast to http://www.imaopodcast.com/podcast.xml. I have written Step-By-Step Instructions on updating the RSS feed for iTunes and iPodder here.
If you want to send your friends a link to download the IMAO Podcast, cut and paste the following text into your e-mail:
"Hi [YOUR FRIEND'S NAME],
I laughed so hard while listening to this extremely funny sound file from my favorite blog, IMAO.
It's safe for work and is on the list to be categorized as a miracle by the Catholic Church.
For your acquaintances and co-workers that were desperately hoping to be able to say "President Dennis Kucinich" on November 3rd of last year, you should still send them the link but with this text:
I have been wrong all this time and have been converted to your way of thinking after hearing this podcast speaking truth to power! Listen to it on the QT and make sure the Bushitler military-industrial machine doesn't catch you!
The listen to the very end to hear the totally true X-rated jokes about Haliburton and Karl Rove!
[EITHER YOUR NAME OR A FAKE NAME]"
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