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"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. And He did despair, for in His omniscience, He did know that His creations had but three-fifths of the splendor of that which would be IMAO."
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September 30, 2005
First Frank brings up the fact that Glenn Reynolds may have switched his blending preference from canine to ursine.
Then Frank gets all sexist by suggesting how incompetent a mob of female assassins would be.
Combining these ideas, I can't help but wonder how Instapundit would be different if Reynolds were a woman.
First, I guess she'd be referred to as "Evil Glennda".
Probably still blend puppies, since dogs are man's best friend, and you know how jealous women can get.
Blending bear cubs? Definitely, since most women think guns are icky, and all American bears are kept armed (it's right there in the Constitution, people).
Yeah, I know SarahK's a woman and she LIKES guns, but she's really pretty and - since you know how jealous women can get - it's just another reason for bear-blending to Glennda.
But would Glennda still be conservative?... Doubtful, since most women are touchy-feely liberals.
Yeah, I know Ann Coulter's conservative, but she's blond and pretty (just like SarahK!) and - since you know how jealous women can get - it implies that Glennda would blend anthing blond or even yellow, like bananas and canaries - possibly with honey, strawberries, dishwater, bleach and/or peroxide.
Punching Frank J.? Oh HELL yeah! Even pretty girls like SarahK enjoy THAT!
Satan-worshipping? Nah... all chicks are Christians who drag you to boring church services & tell you to read the Bible, then get mad when you start reading the dirty parts, like where Solomon is ogling naked women whose breasts are like clusters of grapes.
Murdering hobos? Well, women DO like that unkempt "bad boy" look, and they seem to prefer men who drink too much (just like SarahK!). Of course, all women eventually DO go crazy and give midnight Bobbitectomies, so I'm not sure whether to count that as murder or not.
Penguin Porn? Women just don't like porn. However they ARE hot for a man in a tux - expecially if he looks like a bad boy & drinks too much. Glennda might watch it if it were one of those soft-core things on Lifetime or Oxygen.
Other than that, probably the only noticable change to Instapundit would be a barely-noticable alteration of the background hue on the site:
Think there'd be any other differences?
Preparing for the deluge of requests to vote on Podcast Alley...
Tomorrow, the month of October begins, and you will be deluged with requests to vote for pretty much every podcast under the sun on Podcast Alley. Podcast Alley's site will crumble under the weight of traffic, just like two point seven million people on the Texas Gulf Coast jammed the freeways and highways and byways trying to get out of the way of Hurricane Rita.
This will not do. We must learn from their mistakes. (Not mine, of course. I didn't make any mistakes. I stayed put, waited for contraflow lanes, and then saw that the path of Rita had changed. Nyah nyah!)
So go ahead and bookmark IMAO's podcast details now and be prepared to vote for IMAO's podcast. Because if you don't, this cat will be angry with you:
Doesn't he look angry? That is one angry cat. He is absolutely orange with anger.
See? I told you he's angry. And there's nothing that makes him angrier than when people don't vote for the IMAO podcast bright and early at the first opportunity.
So don't make the cat angry. Set your alarm clock for really early in the morning and vote for the podcast.
As for Jews who observe the Sabbath and cannot operate machinery or do work until sundown, what's five minutes going to hurt? And don't tell me you haven't dreamed of haming a ham and cheese sandwich with bacon on it.
Carrrrrnival of Comedy
The twenty second (22nd) carnival of comedy is up at Steve the Pirate. Like the number, the carnival itself is TWO TWO funny. HAH! (ooosh, it hurts being that corny.)
Steve, whom you may remember from the megahit DODGEBALL, is also the guy who pilots the Serenity. He goes by the name Wash in that reality. Ironic, since pirates rarely do that.
Any way, support starving humorists by reading and linking to this weeks carnival.
But be careful some of the the entries are rated...
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 38 - Fear of the Unknown
* * * *
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"Always." Only a white lie.
I had to remember they were more scared of me than I was on them (actually, I had to stifle laughter when I first saw the crowd), so I walked out slowly with my hands up so they wouldn't immediately start shooting. I then headed for the lobby from where I heard Morrigan.
It was a ridiculous scene. I don't want to sound sexist as I understand the use of female assassins and spies, but actually seeing about fifty women (mainly humans) standing around in outfits ranging from fancy dresses to street clothes to combat fatigues all pointing guns at me was a sight hard to take seriously. Morrigan was dressed in what looked like some sort of special forces outfit and was holding a rifle. Her expression was anger. The other expressions went the whole gambit from anticipation to disdain to fear. Definitely a wide range of experience here, and certainly more than enough to gun me down.
"I'm afraid Diane accidentally killed two of your girls," I told Morrigan, "You shouldn't surprise us like this."
"Shut up!" Morrigan shouted, "You betrayed me - you betrayed Corloni."
"Just strategy; I knew you wouldn't get hurt," I slowly lowered my hands, "Aren't we on the same side here?"
"You joined with Gredler!"
"I merely gained his confidence; I would have killed him then, but the contract was specific when I killed him. As usual, I wasn't given much more instructions so I'm doing this my own way."
"I gave you instructions!"
I smiled slightly. "But come on, it would be irresponsible for me to blindly trust you. So, what are you doing here?" I looked around at the group. "Are you thinking of doing me harm are you?"
Morrigan looked past me to Diane. "Are you aligning yourself with this psychopath, Detective?"
"Apparently, I have to choose a psychopath," Diane answered dryly, "and I've known him longer." She looked at a woman near her. "I'm new to this whole hire killer thing, but shouldn't you be more subtle than this?"
"What are you doing here, Morrigan?" I asked, "Things aren't supposed to go down for more than a day from now. Does Corloni know you've come to kill me?"
"You've made yourself a liability, Rico."
My hands were at my sides, waiting to draw my concealed blaster that they all knew I had. "So you're going to kill me now? How is that going to affect the hit on Gredler?"
"He'll be dead tomorrow morning," Morrigan spat at me, "Him and all the Randatti on this planet. I'm not sure you'll last that long."
I laughed. "I know Corloni didn't send you to kill me tonight, Morrigan. They want me to die in the shootout... which I guess has been moved up a day and some more Corloni thugs are being sent to crowd you out of the glory. You might think I'm some unhinged crazy person, but I know how things work. And I bet you didn't tell your girls you're here against orders."
A few looked at her suspiciously. "What do you know, you psycho?" she yelled.
"I know they obviously haven't told you everything. Yes, you're here to make sure Gredler dies. Yes, you're here to make sure I die. Yes, this is to all start a war. Yes, Corloni wants me dead because they think I'm a liability. But what you don't know is why they want me to die in a huge shootout like the hit on Gredler and not have thug like you just shoot me in the back of the head, and that's the important part. That's why you'll be in trouble for this."
"I know you're just talking so we don't gun you down." I could see she was thinking, trying to figure out if there was anything to what I was saying.
"True, and I know your group could burn me to nothing before I get off..." I paused to pretend to think. "...maybe two or three shots."
A lot of the killerinas were looking confused, but one was looking particularly vengeful (maybe Diane or I had killed a friend of hers) and she shouted, "Let's just do this!"
"If anyone fires without my order, I will personally kill her!" Morrigan shouted so quickly she wasn't able to hide her fear.
"We're going to go now," I told them, "If you get front seats for the event tomorrow, maybe I'll see you then." I smiled keeping eye contact with Morrigan as I backed out the front door of the complex with Diane. Morrigan had her pride, but she also knew her limitations.
That could make her dangerous... but not right now.
Once outside, I drew my guns, and we made a run for her car. "What was that about?" Diane asked as she started the car as I jumped in the passenger seat.
"Morrigan wasn't sure they'd be able to kill me before I could get off a shot... and she knew where that first shot was going."
The car took off with a jolt. "That wasn't what I was asking about. What doesn't she know?"
"That was a bluff."
"You don't seem like the bluffing type."
You think you're so smart, don't you? "Do you know someplace to hide out?"
"I can think of something."
"You have a call from Gredler's office," said Dip in my ear.
"Let's talk." Looked like there was only a little time for talking left anyway.
Sorry not to have a compilation of Serentity blog reviews up yet; if another blogger wants to take the iniative to do a list of links based on whether the reviewer is a Firefly fan or not, I'll link to you in a post.
Anyway, here's Ebert's quite positive review (despite his liberal leaning that sometimes pop up, he's my favorite movie reviewer). Here's a tepid review from Harry Knowles that I think makes some good points (slight spoilers). Both were not fans of the series (I don't think Ebert watches any TV).
Oh, and I helped in predicting who Bush would make his next Supreme Court nominee. What Unix command was I refering to?
And, since no one guessed it, here is one of my favorite Firefly lines:
Zoe: I know something ain't right.
I'll have to add that to the IMDB list.
Even though today is an off Friday for me (and perhaps my last in a while), I'll get to working on the next part of Superego and put that up soon.
Be honorable, ronin.
A Happy Spacemonkey Birthday
Yesterday (Thursday September 29) was Spacemonkey's birthday! I didn't know about it until just now because I was buried under work at my day job and didn't get online until Friday morning. On top of that, I was in Seattle to meet up with cult movie icon Bruce Campbell again. Bruce was in Seattle promoting the audio book version of his very funny Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way. The audio book is great because rather than just some cold, dry reading of the text it is a full sonic production with actors and sound effects... just like a certain podcast we all know.
Hmm, I met Bruce in June, told him about the podcast, and then he comes out with a very podcast-like audio book a few months later?
Anyway, this ain't about me or Bruce Campbell. It's about everyone wishing SPACEMONKEY a belated but happy birthday today. The man behind that drawling Spacemonkey voice in the podcast is a very gifted comedic writer, a hard working dad and an all around great guy.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SPACEMONKEY!
Send him some birthday love or at the very least, your typed birthday wishes in the comments (you cheapskates).
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Today, it's Nardo the Orangeboy shredding a wad of paper:
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... um...
Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.
September 29, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 37 - Ambush
* * * *
It was one of Morrigan's thugs. She had clothing that at first glance looked casual but was actually chosen for mobility and probably had some body armor under it - not enough for my blaster, though. Her eyes were that of a stone-cold killer. Good; I'm getting tired of dealing with amateurs. Grabbing Diane seemed like an odd miscalculation, though.
"You know my blaster could easily shoot through the two of you," I told her, still holding Diane's bag of weaponry in my hands. "You have basically two options here: you turn that gun on me, and then Diane will use the opportunity to take you out, or you first blow her brains out, which gives me plenty of time to draw and kill you. I'm very quick with a blaster… if you weren't informed."
Another woman stepped out of the room, gun pointed at me.
The thug (thugette?) holding Diane suddenly fell forward, her gun firing into the head of the other woman as she did. There was a loud snap, and then there were two bodies lying on the ground in front of the still standing Detective.
"That was beautiful!"
She ran to the bathroom, and I could hear her throwing up.
"That's less so."
"You can buy me some more clothes," she said as she came out, wiping her mouth with a towel which she tossed to the ground, "Let's get out of here."
I tossed her gun bag to her and drew my blasters. "Follow me; this ain't a ladies first situation."
"You're surrounded, Rico!" a voice shouted from outside the apartment. It was Morrigan. I could hear lots of footsteps and guns being readied outside. "You're not shooting your way out of this one! Put your guns away and step out."
I growled in annoyance. "It was supposed to be more than a day before the fighting started. Morrigan is not playing by the rules." I put my guns away.
"Won't you be needing those?" Diane asked, her bag slung over her shoulder and a gun in her hand.
"No, and put yours away if you want to live."
"Are we surrendering?" she asked angrily.
Surrender? Heh. That's why she's the detective and I'm the hitman. "We're just going to walk out of here." I reached for the knob to the apartment door, but stopped and looked to Diane. "Stay close."
The Tom Delay Indictment FAQ
Since Tom Delay has been indicted and everyone seems to be staring at each other with blank looks, I thought I'd explain the indictment and its political effect.
THE TOM DELAY INDICTMENT FAQ
Q. Should Tom Delay have been indicted?
Q. Aren't you afraid of indictments only being aimed at Republicans?
Q. So you support Tom Delay being imprisoned?
Q. So you want politicians to be indicted, but you don't want them arrested? That's confusing.
Q. What if Delay is innocent of these particular charges?
Q. I would think you'd be against the idea of sacrificing an innocent person for some supposed greater good.
Q. What's all that stuff on Instapundit about Tom Delay and pork?
Q. He blends bear cubs now? When did that happen?
Q. Uh, so far you haven't actually said anything about the actual charges against Delay.
Q. Being that you're a political blogger, shouldn't you look them up?
Q. So you're for a hooker being killed so the news doesn't get boring?
Q. But not politicians?
Q. I'm asking the questions here.
Q. So, do you have any actual useful information on this issue?
"Dear Buddha, I'd Like a Pony and a Plastic Rocket."
Instapundit has another list of blogger Serenity reviews. I'd like to have a list of blogger Serenity reviews categorized by whether the reviewer was a Firefly fan or not. If you could put links in the comments of reviews you've seen (or your own) with whether the reviewer was a Firefly fan or not (and whether the review has spoilers), I'd appreciate it.
BTW, no one has guessed my favorite line (it's actually an exchange) from the Firefly pilot, so I'll put it up as soon as I have time to transcribe it from the Firefly DVD.
The Long Goodbye
Well, I just spent over two hours in a meeting basically saying goobye to my weekends for the next two months.
On top of that, I found out this:
(thanks to Striving to Be Average for the bad news)
Not to fear, ronin. I will make measures to have regular posting anyway (and complete Superego... and the first IMW compilation book), but I'll need the other bloggers to fill more as they can.
Also, we are trying to get IMAudiO back onto a weekly schedule. Hopefully, the newest one will be out before the end of the week.
Remember: Remain faithful to IMAO, and you shall be rewarded.
September 28, 2005
maybe she likes me better
Frank was looking over my shoulder and saw my gmail...
FRANK: You got a forward from [my ex-girlfriend]? I didn't get a forward from her.
that's why i quit my job
At the press screening for Serenity last night, Frank and I sat next to three other bloggers and talked to them briefly after the movie. Here's one snippet:
SARAHK: How do I get to your blog?
Links of the Day
Sorry to be late on this one, but this week's Carnival of the Recipes is going on at triticale. Also, there is a new schedule for COTR - recipes are due by noon on Saturdays, and the host or hostess can post the Carnival at any time that weekend. So make sure to send in your recipes by Saturday!
And don't forget this week's Carnival of Cordite submissions. See Gullyborg on how to do that, because I don't know and am too lazy to look it up.
And see Spacemonkey's post about the Carnival of Comedy.
And the Next Secretary General of the UN is...
Ya just GOTTA figure that - sooner or later - that corrupt, embezzling weasel Kofi Annan will get perp-walked out of the UN building.
Which means they'll have to pick a new Secretary General.
Never hurts to start planning ahead. Bush didn't, and now he's got.... what... seven Supreme Court vacancies to fill?... and he's nominated John Roberts for all of them.
Lack of planning, man... just sad.
Fortunately, I'm on top of things with the UNSG. Here's my short list:
* Bambi! He will save us from Godzilla! He... aw CRAP!
* The SON of Bambi! HE will save us from Godzilla!
* Jesse Jackson - He knows how to unite the many-colored peoples of the world into one happy rainbow. Just like Skittles!
* Mmmm... Skittles...
* Bill Gates - If anyone opposes his mighty will, he can make their computer cr
* Hmmm... must've accidentally opposed Bill Gates.
* An Inanimate Carbon Rod - He's already proved his worth by thwarting the plans of the evil insect overlords.
* Frank J. - The moon will finally get the nuking it so richly deserves.
* Jacques Chirac - Then we'd be able to ignore the UN *and* the French at the same time, thus increasing America's disdainfulness quotient.
* SarahK - She'll make the UN pretty by riddling it with bullets.
All have their virtues, but you KNOW who I just have to give the nod to:
* John Bolton
Hey losers! The Carnival of Comedy is coming up! It's not too late to get in on its rich chocolately goodness.
Upcoming Carnival Schedule
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 36 - Faith
* * * *
"The syndicate has never given me much guidelines on civilian deaths," I explained to Diane. She seemed to be concentrating on driving, but I could tell she was listening. "As I explained, gauging one thing as a horrible slaughter versus just a slaughter is not my strong point. As I've understood things, they just assigned me to jobs where they want people scared, and some collateral damage helps with that.
"I was assigned to kill some two-bit thug pretending to be crime boss on Antero - well, he was big enough to pretty much run that planet, but that's still small potatoes to the syndicate. The guy was smart enough to know he was gaining our ire, so he had his defenses. I guess he figured if he made himself a hard enough target, the syndicate would decide he would take too many resources to squash and ignore him. What the guy didn't know is the syndicate had me, and I had taken on much tougher assignments by myself before.
"I only spent about a day scoping out the area. The hit is often the easy part; it's the getting away alive that can be trouble. I find well placed explosive can help as they are both good for killing and creating fear and confusion in my adversaries. I had many explosives planted and a number of different escape roots planned before I heard about some local festival that would be taking place in the area the next day. I figured that would only give me more cover as I could disappear into the crowd.
"The hit was simple; no one ever seems prepared for one man running in shooting. My mark lying dead in his office, I shot my way back out of the building and ran into the now panicked crowd of people in the streets. I figured the bodyguards wouldn't spend too much time pursuing me; I mean, their guy was already dead. Still, they went after me, firing into the crowd as I fired back. Sentients were dropping left and right in the crossfire, and then the police for that planet - corrupt thugs themselves - started firing on me.
"I was pinned, and, since those shooting at many didn't care about the civilians, I didn't see why I should. So I set off all the explosives. About the whole area blew up. A little dizzy, I headed in what I thought to be the general direction of an escape point while firing at anything I saw move through the smoke - I didn't have time to figure out who were threats. Dip picked me up in my ship, and, a shower later, I was back to normal.
"I don't know how many died on Antero; the number held no interest to me. It did seem like an especially large number of civilians - mostly families, too - but I figured if it was a problem, the syndicate would tell me. They didn't say anything; just paid me for the job. It was not too long after that my handler got switched to the current idiot I get assignments through; maybe I should have suspected something then."
There was another surge of anger, but I pushed it back. "They just needed to explain things to me, that's all. Like I said, I just don't understand when I cross the line. I mean, I killed lots of people that day - most of whom didn't deserve it by the standards usually given. But, I hardly killed anyone at all if you compare it to how many people died that day in the entire universe from whatever cause might find him or her. Most people just don't have that large of a perspective." I looked to Diane and smiled. She appeared to have her full concentration on driving, but I could see her shudder slightly. "Except maybe God."
Diane still didn't look to me. "So, you slaughtered families and that doesn't affect you in the least."
I chuckled. "Guilt is just a word to me."
She smiled. "As I said, you're bad at the truth, but you are a very good liar, obviously. I wonder how many of your own lies have you fallen for."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're smart; you figure it out," she replied as she began to land the vehicle. With all that was going on, I really didn't need someone trying to make me doubt myself. Well, the dumping her in a ditch option was always on the table – as long as I didn’t let her get me in a wrist lock again.
It was starting to get dark when we entered her apartment building. She had a ground floor apartment; my guess is she sought one out specifically. Ease of access, plus gives you a safe direction to point a gun when handling (for me, a safe direction is any direction not towards me).
"You mentioned God before," Diane said as we entered her apartment, "Do you believe in Him?"
Her apartment was sparsely decorated. There was a picture of a man and woman on one wall - her parents, I assume - and, a few less prominent pictures - other relatives, as I recognized some from Bible study. There was also one of those wooden t's on one wall. That always seemed an odd way to kill someone, and I never quite understood the celebration of the execution device of your Savior. I mean, I know it's supposed to represent His sacrifice, but why isn't it considered more gruesome?
Oh yeah, her question. "No, I don't believe in God. Can't believe in something I can't observe; I just don't understand the human condition of faith - of just blindly accepting some assertions as truth."
She stared at me a moment before finally uttering, "Bull." She then opened a panel on the wall where she took out some weaponry.
"Would you like to expand upon that?"
"Everyone worships a god," Diane said as she checked a pistol, "whether he or she thinks she does or not. You, Rico, must have some belief system... some faith... that motivates you to do what you do. You say you want to kill as many Randatti and Corloni as possible. Why?"
"Well, Corloni betrayed me... and... uh... I've just always killed the Randatti."
"You could run."
"And do what? I'm a killer; that's what I am good at. It's what I do."
I laughed. "You want me to run, Diane?"
"No." She zipped up her bag of guns and handed it to me. "You have sins to atone for. I think you know that."
"I can't be saved, Diane; I'm unrepentant," I told her quite seriously, "I don't feel guilt. I would think a rational person would like the idea I'm at least intent on wiping out bad people as perhaps my last action in this universe."
"Who says I'm rational." She pointed to the cross. "You feel wronged, so you want justice, Rico. Your idea of mass slaughter is hollow, though."
I laughed again. "You have a better idea? These people could destroy this planet if they wanted. You want me to throw Bibles at them and hope they'll see the light?"
She looked me in the eyes. "What's your plan for after this?"
"I'll be dead... or I won't. If I'm not dead, the Corloni and the Randatti will hunt me... or I could hunt them. Inevitably, I'll be dead at some point, and I guess that wraps things up."
"Do you fear death?"
"I guess I should if you're right about what awaits me, but, no. I don't. Faced it too many times, already."
She kept her gaze on me. "Do you want to die?"
"Uh... living seems to suit me just fine." I smiled. "Why fix what ain't broke. Now, don't you have some packing to do?"
She finally turned away. "I need to grab some clothes."
"You can pick out the outfits, and I'll pick out your underwear." She stared at me with shock. "I'm just joking," I explained to her, "Sometime sentients use humor to defuse tense situations."
She laughed as she turned and headed for her bedroom. "So what was up with those pills I saw you drop once?" She asked as she disappeared into her room.
My pills - I still had them in a pocket. I was thinking of what to tell her about those, but she came out of her bedroom right away, ushered forward by someone who had an arm around Diane's neck and a gun to her head.
Well, sucks to be her.
What to Buy for the Man Who's Killed Everyone?
Looks like my brother, Sgt. Joe foo' the Marine, should be heading home soon, first going from Fallujah to Kuwait before going to North Carolina and finally getting leave to Boise. I was thinking I should probably get him a gift, but what's like the standard gift for someone returning from war? I was never taught that, but I have some ideas:
* A bottle of whiskey (only thing worse than war is war with no booze).
* A gift certificate for Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
* A coupon for psychiatric help for that pesky Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
* A case of whiskey.
* Some bootleg DVDs with Arabic subtitles so the change to civilian life isn't too jarring.
* An IMAO t-shirt (who doesn't love those?).
* A subscription to "Whiskey of the Month" club.
* A battle-scarred Vermont Teddy Bear.
* "My Other Car Is a Tank" bumper sticker.
* The head of some hippy protestor on a stick.
* Does whiskey come in gallon jugs?
* A cool gun... or do think he'd be tired of those?
* GI Joe action figures so he can reenact his own tour of duty (do they come with their own little plastic portable DVD player and GameBoy Advance for realism?).
* The movie Farenheit 911 so he knows he was only fighting for Halliburton and Bush’s cronies.
* Some Halliburton stock, so he'll really felt he had a stake in that war.
* So what's like the best whiskey brand?
Any other ideas for gifts? Please put them in the comments.
Rosh Hoshana Q&A
With the Jewish New Year Rosh Hoshana coming up in less than a week (October 4th), I thought I'd take a moment to answer your questions about the holiday.
Q: Why is it on a different day every year?
A: It's not. It's on the first of Tishrei, you moron.
Q: Why does Rosh Hoshana begin at sundown?
A: The sun is a skin cancer-causing Muslim spy, and we won't celebrate while it is watching us.
Q: What does Rosh Hoshana mean?
A: It means that I'm still going to write 5765 on all of my checks like a fool.
Q: Why do you blow a ram's horn on Rosh Hoshana?
A: Because the car's horn is broken.
Q: On American New Year's, you eat black eyed peas for good luck. What do you eat on Rosh Hoshana?
A: Apples dipped in honey, bread dipped in honey... we dip a lot of things in honey. Once, I paid for my apples and bread with a credit card. It was dipped in honey along with the receipt. Do you know how hard it is to sign something that's been dipped in honey?
Q: How do you pronounce that bread that Jews eat on Rosh Hoshana?
Q: Why is no work permitted on Rosh Hoshana?
A: Because the synagogue doesn't have Wifi and we forgot the cable to connect the laptop to the cell phone.
Q: Some Jew just said "L'shanah tovah 5766" to me? What does it mean?
A: "Sha Na Na is coming back for 5766."
So, folks, L'shana tovah, and save some bread for me. Otherwise, I may have to dip you in honey.
"Were There Monkeys? Some Terrifying Space Monkeys Maybe Got Loose?"
I'll do quotes from the movie later (after everyone has had a chance to see it), but here are great quotes from the series Firefly. It includes some narration I hadn't heard before because it was used when shown on FOX but not on the DVDs.
This list is missing one of my favorite quotes which is from the pilot. Can anyone guess what it is?
And what are your favorite episodes? When introducing the series to someone new, I usually skip ahead to "Shindig" which is one of my favorite. "War Stories" might be the best, in my opinion (except for the lesbian love scene, which, if SarahK asks, I hate).
UPDATE: Hint for the favorite quote - it's near the beginning of the pilot and is said on the ship Serenity (I really should just add it to IMDB; am I the only one who loved that quote?).
Frank Movie Reviews: Serenity
"I am a leaf on the wind."
That movie was so intense it was like a punch to the guy afterwards. It was definitely not just a two hour long episode of Firefly. It had a lot of the humor fans of the series love (especially all the times the main character, Captain Malcolm Reynolds - no relation to the puppy blender - starts to get dramatic and then deflates the scene with a humorous line), but the humor was just short breathers from the plot of the movie which had the crew of Serenity looking about as hopeless as possible. It's their one ship with no guns versus the entire Alliance government with its battleships and unlimited resources.
For the uninitiated, mankind has spread out from Earth to terraform other planets. Some, the central planets, became huge advanced civilizations. Others remained backwater planets. Eventually the Alliance was formed to unite all the planets - whether they wanted it or not - which led to war, the scrappy rebels known as the "Browncoats" fighting for independence from the Alliance.
And they lost.
Captain Reynolds (known as "Mal" to most of the crew) was on the losing side of that war – which, at the beginning of the movie, had been over for a number of years - and captains a ship where they take any job they can, legal or illegal, to keep on going and being free, something that has become harder as the Alliance continues to grow.
Furthering Mal's problem, a while back (that would be the pilot of the T.V. series - which, incidentally, FOX didn't air first) he picked up two stragglers: a doctor used to only living on civilized planets and his sister, River, who a brilliant schizophrenic who apparently was some Alliance government experiment. At the beginning of the movie, the Alliance becomes determined to do anything to get her for reasons that eventually become quite clear.
The cast, as I knew coming into this, was phenomenal. Of course, it's too large for all to get equal time, and most of the focus of the movie was with the Captain himself. The bad guy, The Operative, while not quite as menacing personally as the trailers mad him seem, made for a very effective villain, evil enough to push the main characters into danger that would otherwise be unbelievable for them to take up (by the end, everyone has a chip on his or her shoulder).
The special effects were very special, and at times it almost seemed to be aiming to look like a summer blockbuster. In the end, though, it stayed true to being a very character driven action/drama/sci-fi movie. It even had a central theme - beliefs - which sounds kinda cheesy but plays out well. Honestly, I can't remember a better movie going experience in a long time (SarahK kept suddenly blurting out, "That was so good!" about fifty times on our way back from Orlando - a long with quoting many of the memorable lines), and, since The Operative knew martial arts and carried a sword, I'll declare him a ninja (a prerequisite for the coveted five star rating).
So, yes, I give this movie five out of five stars and order everyone to see it this weekend. SarahK and I will see it again Friday at our local theatre, where, hopefully, it will be shown on the digital projector (cigarette burns are so distracting to me ever since I've seen the movie Fight Club). Monday, there will be a spoiler discussion and vote for best line from the move (so many to choose from!).
Oh, and I'll give one minor spoiler (and there is more than you'd think to spoil): the theme song from Firefly only appears as a guitar solo at the end of the credits.
For the view of someone who had never seen the series, here's Glenn Reynolds’ thoughts (and, apparently, he's now a convert - I've converted four people to Firefly fans, myself) and links to more blogger reviews.
Also, I met three other bloggers at the screening. One couple, Rachel and Jim, and a guy named Duane. They'll probably have reviews up soon, but, in the meantime, make sure to check them out since none of them seem to have heard of SarahK or me, so it'll be funny to hit them with a big traffic surge.
One last thing, there was only one preview for this screening - the trailer for Doom. As long time FPS player, the FPS sequences of the trailer made me giddy (and got a big reaction from the crowd). I want to fight demons with a chainsaw!
September 27, 2005
I Aim to Misbehave
Just got back from the Serenity screening. There was a huge line for this preview, but SarahK and I got to go in ahead of all the other where the prime seating was roped off just for bloggers and some browncoats, I think.
Anyway, I'll have my review tomorrow... spoiler free - and there is plenty to spoil. Also, we're going to try to have the new IMAudiO out before the end of the week with SarahK's review.
Be honorable, ronin.
It Has Begun!
An Editorial by Frank J.
With the arrest of Cindy Sheehan, the roundup of all those who dissent against Bush and the war in Iraq has begun. No one who protest the Bush regime is safe - that is, if he or she is sitting in front of the White House.
But, mark my words, it won't end there. See, there is this little thing called the "snowball effect." When a snowball is pushed down a snowy hill, it will collect more and more snow and increase in size, turning a little snowball into a snowboulder. Of course, this varies with snow conditions (if the snow as an ice glaze on top, this won't work). Also, a certain amount of momentum is needed with the snowball (too little, it won't break the static friction variable; too much, and it will coast over the top of the snow). But, if the conditions are right, you'll have a huge snowboulder once the snowball reaches the bottom of the hill.
Oh, I guess that means the size of the hill is another variable. The taller the hill, the bigger the snowball (again, if previous conditions for snowball growth are met).
"At the top of the hill we have the arrest of Cindy Sheehan, and, at the bottom of the hill, we have a snowboulder so large it encompasses the arrest of all dissenters of Bush and the war (again, if snow conditions were appropriate and the correct momentum was given to the snowball and the hill is tall enough)."
I'm not sure how all of that fits into the metaphor, but at the top of the hill we have the arrest of Cindy Sheehan, and, at the bottom of the hill, we have a snowboulder so large it encompasses the arrest of all dissenters of Bush and the war (again, if snow conditions were appropriate and the correct momentum was given to the snowball and the hill is tall enough). First, we have dissenters sitting in front of the White House being arrested. Next, it's dissenters sitting across the street from the White House. After that, it's dissenters sitting at the Washington Monument who will be arrested (or maybe dissenters sitting at the Lincoln Memorial or the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History; it's been a while since I've been to D.C. and I forget the geography). Then it will be dissenters sitting in their own homes in the D.C. area being arrested, and it will continue to spread from there until, lastly, dissenting, sitting Eskimos are arrested (Hawaii might technically be father away than Alaska, but I'd expect Bush's storm troopers to go there first since it's much nicer there; I mean, you'd have to have drawn the short straw to be sent to the frigid north to round up the reclined whale spearing protesters).
At this current rate, we can expect all who are against Bush and the war to be imprisoned by the year 12,647AD - a time when people should be worrying much more about the talking monkey cyborgs than being arrested for saying something bad about Bush or the war in Iraq while sitting.
Or, I could have the snowball trajectory all wrong, and it will be all those who have had relatives die in Iraq who will be arrested. It doesn't seem that likely or probable, but it has to be considered. Much observation of the snowball will be needed to determine this for sure. Just don't sit down, as I think that figures into the arrest equation.
Anyway, we need to stop this snowball. So how do you stop a snowball? I guess you could salt the hills. Alternatively, you could pour water on them which would freeze everything to ice and not allow snow collection if a snowball rolled down it. You could also shoot the snowball with a shotgun before it gets to big. Now, taking those metaphorical ways to stop metaphorical snowballs and translating them to real life, I'm not sure what we get. It's possible the metaphorical shotgun becomes a real shotgun. Anyway, someone else needs to figure that out ‘cause I'm kinda weary of this snowball stuff now.
But don't lost sight of my main message here: there is snow, there are balls, there are arrests, and that all possibly means we should worry. Do you understand? If so, please explain this to me, because I'm now a little confused.
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 "Advanced Snowball Physics Theory" and "Capital Crimes: The Case Against Giving Cybernetic Enhancements to Monkeys".
go vote! go vote! go vote!
Patrick Ruffini is doing another Presidential straw poll -- last time we got a good turnout from this website (they rank by blog), which only makes us look good. I know it may seem a little soon to be having another one, but I think of it as a way to send a negative message to RINO's like McCain and Hegel (who don't care about the base but do care about the Presidency) to clean up their acts. Believe me, people are watching this poll and you can have an early impact on in the 2008 race.
Results will be here.
update: glad to see someone has a brain and fixed this!
Now This Is Wacky
Here's a DU thread where you'll find FDR compared unfavorably to Bush... and the person saying it not get flamed.
Also, there is a deleted post followed by people yelling, "Why don't you enlist, Freeper!" I can't see what the guy said, but it seems to be a kneejerk reaction for any dissent. I saw a previous thread where someone disagreed on an issue that had nothing to do with the war and asked a question, and he got the same thing yelled at him and his question unanswered. He then informed them that he had been in the military and couldn't enlist again on account of him only having 1.5 legs. The person responded with some false sounding sympathy, seeming unsure what to say now that he was unable to block debate by yelling, "Chickenhawk."
DU is funny and pathetic - it's funthetic!
Am I Riff Raff?
I have personally been closed out of registering to comment on LGF.
Is this right? I say that, no it is not right. But it is instead, in fact wrong. That's right, I said it, "WRONG!".
Am I being singled out because of my ethnic orientation? Or my coffee preference? Two creams, no sugar.
Are they trying to keep out the kooks? From the looks of things a few slipped through anyway. I don't have a problem with that.
I DO have a problem that none of the kooks that slipped through was me, spacemonkey. I mean really, what's one more going to hurt?
It's not like there's a fire code, is there? I'll even let them check my shoes. But any sort of cavity search is OUT though. Of course, I can't speak for the rest of the team here at IMAO.
"We Are Not Making Fun of Andy Griffith; I Can't Emphasize That Enough"
Posted by Frank J. at 08:24 AM | Not Making Fun of Andy Griffith; I Can't Emphasize That Enough"&Body=http://www.imao.us/archives/003984.html">Email This
I had to pause the Tivo lastnight after that line in Arrested Development because I knew SarahK and I needed extra time to recover or we'd miss the next part of the show.
I guess the problem with that line - as with a lot of the funniest parts in the episode - required either inside knowledge about the show or having watched many of the previous episodes. Still, I sure hope the show keeps going, because there is nothing funnier on network TV right now.
September 26, 2005
If you're like me, you've probably been looking at all of the TV coverage of the recent end the war/israel/racism/global warming protests across the nation and in response have asked yourself that deep soul searching question: "Who Cares? Isn't there a football game somewhere?"
Well, dear readers - I care - because it has given us THIS golden image. Just ripe for a CAPTION CONTEST!!
Ahem, what exactly is that officer's hand doing and why is Cindy so happy? You tell us...
If God came down from Heaven and said the war in Iraq is just, would any liberals listen?
No, because God is not currently signed up for the military, thus making His opinions for war irrelevant.
Some Unusual Blegging
I need some help, and this one is a little unusual.
You see, I was just swimming around, seeing if anything in the ocean was threatening the world. I then ran into some dolphins and said, "Ahoy, my aquatic mammal friends!"
The dolphins then proceeded to shoot me with toxic darts.
Next thing I knew, I'm here in this hospital in Jamaica (lucky they have internet). Apparently, Hurricane Katrina released some U.S. military trained dolphin super-weapons!
So, my question is, does anyone know where I should start filling the legal papers for this lawsuit?
mea culpa . . .
i would like to publicly apologize to cindy sheehan -- i've said on many occassions that i thought she was too stupid to get arrested -- i was wrong -- apparently even the dimmest of bulbs can earn a free trip to the pokey
i would like to volunteer to head up her defense team -- yes, i will be pleading incapacity due to mental retardation -- who wouldn't believe that?
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 35 - A Compromising Situation
* * * *
"I'm serious!" I shouted at her, letting some indignation seep into my voice.
She calmed her laughing a bit. "I know you are, Rico. I've seen bad liars before, but you're the first bad truth-teller I've met... it's almost an effort for you." She then just laughed some more, and I tried to give her a look of impatience. When she saw it, she laughed even harder. "So about all your interactions with me since we've met have been part of an act of pretending to be human... like that expression you just made." She continued laughing.
"Yes." I didn't have to force the impatience anymore. "I'm perhaps the best killer in the known universe."
She laughed even harder. I felt like stabbing her. "And yet, you've come to lowly Detective Thompson for help," she said between guffaws, "This is just the sort of thing that would happen to me."
"What makes you think I want your help?!"
"Well, you're spilling your guts to me and, even though you're an admitted psychotic killer, you've yet to make a very concerted effort to kill me." She smiled smugly.
I decided it was time to wipe the smile off her face. I started to throw a right hook, but she grabbed my other hand and put it into a wrist lock, the pain keeping from moving my right hand at her. I started to reach for my gun, but she put more pressure on my wrist as she drew her own gun and pressed it against my temple.
Like that, I was deadmeat. She goaded me into making an emotional attack, making me go for hand-to-hand where I'm weaker. "You're smarter than I thought."
"But dumber than I thought to get myself in this very compromising position you’ve led me into, Rico." She pushed her gun harder against my head while continuing to twist my wrist. "Something always seemed wrong with you, but I had no idea when I saw you for who you really are, you're just a confused little kid."
"I think you're underestimating me now," I growled.
"Actually, most little kids still know right from wrong." She chuckled. "Hitting a woman is wrong, by the way."
"Considers the woman."
She laughed again. I stared at her neck wanting to get my hands around it, but realized I needed to crush those emotions before I made this worse. "I guess you laugh as part of controlling your fear."
That really set her off. She was in tears, twisting my wrist harder the more she laughed. "Now I'm being psychoanalyzed by the psychopath. You're probably right, though. Anyway, I'll help you, Rico; I guess it's my Christian duty. What's your plan with me, anyway?"
"I'm going to make a huge confrontation between the Corloni and Randatti and get as many killed as possible. I wanted you to help me set things up in exchange for giving you enough information to keep civilians and police from getting caught in the mix."
"There will be too many here for you people to handle; you'll all just get slaughtered. It's much bigger than you're little governments now."
She seemed to consider this seriously for a while. "So, how long have you been a hitman for the Corloni?"
"Uh... since about when I was old enough to hold a gun. It's what I'm good at."
"How many people have you killed?"
"Sentients? Uh... thousands, I guess."
"Thousands," she repeated, no emotion on her face. "If you're such a great killer, why do they want you dead?"
"Not sure. The message Dip is holding for me may answer that."
"And why so many hitman are going to come just to kill Gredler?"
"I want the Randatti to think it's for Gredler; they'll be coming for me. Like I said, I'm the best killer in the known universe, and Corloni knows how dangerous I am far better than Randatti."
Yes, that statement was a bit ironic when a blond woman had me at her mercy, a single finger twitch between me and death.
Diane seemed to be thinking a lot right now. I was going to stop pretending I knew what was going on in her head. "I need to think about this; you keep up whatever your plan was when Gredler gets back to you. First, we're going to my apartment where you're going to help me get some stuff. I don't think it will be safe for me there since you've involved me in all this." She let go of my wrist and put her gun away, her expression stoic. "Why don't you talk to Dip and get your message."
She took control of the vehicle while I rubbed my wrist and hailed Dip. "What's the message?"
"Is Diane still alive?"
"I killed her and dumped her in a ditch as originally planned," I said irately, "What's the message?"
"It was sent as an e-mail from a so far untraceable source."
"And it says..."
"The subject is 'Why.'"
"The content is 'Antero.'"
It shouldn't have been a surprise. Still, it hit me hard to know what had caused my little world to collapse. They just had to give me more guidance, and this never would have happened.
"Any idea who sent the message?"
I ignored Dip. Diane was now looking at me, and I think there was concern on her face. "You might as well tell me," she said.
She'd probably wish she pulled the trigger when she had the chance if I did.
In My World: Stuck on Stupid
"Not another giant hurricane!" Bush griped, "Maybe I did make God angry. Think I should convert to Judaism?"
"No," Laura Bush answered.
"I just know I'm going to get blamed for this," Bush moaned, "and it even hit Texas! Why couldn't it go for Mexico where no one lives that anyone cares about?"
"These things just happen, dear."
"They didn't happen to Clinton! This is so unfair!"
"Well, life - and presidencies - can be unfair."
"Still, I just hope nothing bad happens for the rest of my term."
Rumsfeld ran into the room, grabbed Bush by the neck, and lifted him into the air. "Rarr! You sent more troops to Iraq! I told you I didn't need more troops!"
"I only sent two!" Bush gasped back, "Jenna and Barbara!"
"You did what?" Laura exclaimed.
Rumsfeld dropped Bush, growled, and left the room. "I signed them up for the Marines," Bush explained to Laura, "People said it would prove I believed in my war."
"Only idiots would say that!" Laura responded.
"And I have to appeal to idiots if we are ever going to eat into the Democrat base!"
"Do you even have the authority to sign people up for the militarily? They're both adults!"
"I can do what I want!" Bush asserted as he stood up straight, "I'm the President!" Laura glowered at him. "Anyway," he added, "I'm sure they'll be fine."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Based on what history?"
* * * *
"I can't stand it here, Barbara! It's hot, it's dusty, and there is no place to plug in a hair curler."
"And these clothes they make us wear were not made by Versace," Barbara said, staring at her uniform.
Buck the Marine walked up to them. "Are you the new Marines?" he asked dubiously.
"I once studied marine biology," Jenna answered.
"Why does everyone speak gibberish around here?" Barbara asked.
"Uh... did you two go through boot camp?"
"What camp?" Jenna said with confusion.
"That's some stupid military lingo," Barbara explained.
Buck eyed the two uncertainly. "Well, since both your nametags say 'Bush,' we'll have to come up with nicknames for each of you."
"I'll be 'Princess!'" Jenna chimed in.
Barbara pulled out her KaBar. "You only said that because you knew that would be my choice! I'll murder you dead!"
Jenna pulled out her knife. "Not if I murder you first!"
Buck pulled the two apart. "Save it for the enemy! Now, you at least qualified at the rifle range, right?"
"It was noisy there," Barbara answered, "and, by the way, I don't want anyone to bother us early in the morning again. As you can plainly see on our tent, it says, 'Private.'"
"And, for first class tents," Jenna added, "They really suck."
"'Private First Class' is your rank," Buck told them.
Jenna looked to Barbara with confusion. "It's more of the military lingo," Barbara explained.
There was an explosion nearby. "That's loud too," Jenna commented, covering her ears.
"It's mortars!" Buck yelled as he dropped to the ground, "Hit the deck!"
Jenna and Barbara just stared at him. "Our clothes look bad enough as it is," Jenna explained, "We're not going to go and get sand on them too and look like a couple of hobos."
"And when do we get leave to go shopping?" Barbara asked, "And do you know of some place we can buy other things than headscarves?"
There was the whistle of another mortar in the air, and then the Bush twins' tent exploded.
"My CDs were in there!" Jenna cried.
"We are so going to have post traumatic stress disorder from this," Barbara griped.
* * * *
"Like I said," Bush assured Laura again, "They'll be fine. They take after me. Now why don't you go to the Presidential Library and order the books in that funky number system you like so much."
"I just might do that," Laura said as she left the room.
Scott McClellan came in. "I need help handling the press," he said, "Your poll numbers are still a bit precarious, and how you were videotaped beating up a number of orphan children isn't helping."
"I thought I told you to explain to the press that they were staring at me," Bush answered.
"That doesn't seem to settle the issue."
Bush thought for a moment. "Let's try handling the press the way that General Honore did. Tell the reporters that they're 'stuck on stupid' and should be asking questions pertaining to the next orphans I'll be beating up."
"Uh..." Scott started to stammer, but was interrupted by a shout.
"You murdered my son!" came a bullhorn from outside.
Bush looked out the window. "It's Cindy Sheehan!" he exclaimed, "I thought she was dead!"
"As I explained to you before," Scott answered, "Just because someone isn't in the news cycle anymore, doesn't mean he or she ceases to exist."
"I'm always in the news cycle," Bush muttered as he opened the window. He then shouted out, "I didn't kill your son, you dumb broad!" He looked out a while longer. "She's got a bit of a crowd with her; I think a rocket propelled grenade would disperse them. Get me a grenade launcher!"
"Uh... I think that would be murder," Scott answered.
"I didn't ask for a legal opinion; I asked for a grenade launcher!" Bush shot back.
"It's not like I keep one on me as a press secretary," Scott replied.
"Now what do I do," Bush groaned. An idea then struck him. "Does Cindy Sheehan have any other sons? I could murder one of them, and then I really will have murdered her son! That will put things back to normal!"
Scott just stared at Bush aghast for a few seconds. "I think you're stuck on stupid, sir."
Jake, my coworker, is quitting smoking. He's on The Gum right now.
He's already gotten past the cranky and bitchy and grouchy stages, which is kind of a drag since it would have been very interesting to watch him go through them. Instead, he went through them during a 19 hour drive to Dallas or San Antonio or Anywhere But Here last week.
Anyway, I'm in the process of quitting crackers-and-cheese and beef jerky and gatorade. Seems I went on a junk food bender during the storm with all of my relief supplies, since Whole Foods doesn't sell granola vegan hippy-happy disaster packs.
I figure I should just buy a steak, stick it on my arm, and say it's a Meat Patch.
Pardon me if I'm bitchier than usual in the next few days. It's going to be a rough ride.
Also, the gasoline supplies are coming into town, so the gigantic gaundy gasoline-fountains of Downtown Houston are being turned back on. Two deep lungfuls of fumes and I'm back in the halcyon headiness that is my city.
Just don't light a match.
If You Enjoyed this Post by Frank J., You Can Read More of His Work at RightWingNews
Guess who is guest blogging at RightWingNews today? Come on, guess!
No fair, you clicked on the link. Anyway, I have one post up now, but I have another for him since I don't think the first one keeps up the RightWingNews name. I'll tell you when I post it.
And I'll post here, too. Yay!
EXCLUSIVE!!! Counter Protest Babe Photo Blending?
EXCLUSIVE!! MUST.CREDIT. IMAO.US!!!!
Has there been counter-protest photo blending by the Instapundit?
I know Prof. Reynolds likey da protest babes. But tweaking their um, images to make them more titilating? Well, surely something like that is below Reynolds. But a call like that's for a far more trained eye than mine. Let me show you the goods.
Someone has fine tuned something. Hmmm, I notice some subtle differences. Two of them. Do you see them? Both of them? Did I mention that there were two? They sort of just jump out at you don't they?
Yes, I see two glaring enhancements. He's apparently brightened the image. I mean like shining a set of headlights on highbeam or something at it. And also must have added a wet t-shirt filter overlay to the original.
That's about the brea-, uh, best I can figure.
Update: Glenn has now replaced the image with a more linearly brightened one with embues you with no artificial X-Ray abilities.
FURTHER MORE! I did NOT photoshop this! The 'enhanced' image came directly from the Instapundit website last evening. I'm speaking truth to power here, people!
September 25, 2005
For Monday... A Post!
Guess what I just finished writing?
An In My World™! I'll post it tomorrow. Now, I need to work on some more posts as this should be another busy week at work.
I hope you all really appreciate I'm spending my Sunday night writing posts for you guys; if not, then why don't you go start a diary on the DailyKos!
I'm a big Firefly fan (remember when I had Jayne endorse Bush?), gotten my sister, my mother (I spent a vacation in Sun Valley staying in our hotel room watching all the episodes with them on my laptop), SarahK, and my brother Joe foo' the Marine hooked on the series (he's watched the 14 episodes of it multiple times while in Iraq - probably has already seen the movie on a bootleg Iraqi DVD), thus I was very excited at the opportunity to go to a press screening in Orlando this Tuesday so I can see it early and put up a review (and hopefully SarahK will have the podcast review before it comes out on Friday). Ends up, as of now, I am not guaranteed a seat.
What? You mean I may drive all the way to Orlando on a weeknight - taking all those tolls and gas costs - and not even get to see the Firefly movie Serenity?
Grace Hills Media is calling this press screening for bloggers the "Serenity Blogger Bonanza" (ugh - still, it's nice to seem them trying a blog publicity campaign) and has a few requirement to earn our chance at the screening.
Fine. I'll jump through a few hoops. Anyhoo, here's the film's synopsis:
Joss Whedon, the Oscar® - and Emmy - nominated writer/director responsible for the worldwide television phenomena of BUFFY THE VAMPIRE, ANGEL and FIREFLY, now applies his trademark compassion and wit to a small band of galactic outcasts 500 years in the future in his feature film directorial debut, Serenity. The film centers around Captain Malcolm Reynolds, a hardened veteran (on the losing side) of a galactic civil war, who now ekes out a living pulling off small crimes and transport-for-hire aboard his ship, Serenity. He leads a small, eclectic crew who are the closest thing he has left to family –squabbling, insubordinate and undyingly loyal.
I don't think that's particularly very good, so I'd like my readers who are fans of the series (and those who have seen the movie already) put better explanations of the series and movie (spoiler-free) in the comments.
There, that's one hoop jumped through. Now, I'm going to e-mail them and explain to them I am Frank J. and there isn't a bigger blogger in the Orlando area you could get involved with this. Hopefully, I can get confirmation before Tuesday night.
If they don't let me in, though I will swear in Chinese, but I'm going to hype the movie, because, if you've watched the series, you'd know why this needs to be a blockbuster. If you haven't seen the series, go rent DVDs now. Actually, just trust me and buy them; you'll want to show them to everyone else just like me.
Oh, and before I forget (another hoop), here's the official movie site where you can watch the trailers for the film. They’re shiny (that means really good, for the uninitiated)!
Man, I want to see this film... and NOW!
September 24, 2005
Gotta Go Where the Money Is
It looks like I'm going to be really busy for a while, but, since I love my readers, I'll use some of my weekend to pre-write posts. I'll even write ahead on Superego for the first time (I'm just thrilled anyone likes that).
BTW, we're still restructuring for the next IMAudiO. It will make a triumphant return... hopefully next week.
Rita Report again
With the dozens of tree branches and scads of leaves scattered in the streets in this part of town, it looks more like a pack of drunk Mexican gardeners went on a rampage here before running out of tequila and passing out.
And not even a Category-5 pack of drunk Mexicans, either. We're talking dull shears, really weak tequila, and some really lazy drunk Mexicans.
So go ahead and blame whomever or whatever for this storm, John Q. Public, I'm going to blame the Mexicans.
Millions of people evacuated, only needing to be moved back in.
Thousands of abandoned and stranded cars.
Millions of gallons of gas wasted.
Billions of dollars in lost production.
A few dozen people dead from the evacuation.
A fire or two in Galveston.
Some trees knocked down here and there.
But it was all worth it to guarantee that the Motley Crue concert at Toyota Center was cancelled.
Okay, folks... how will this all be blamed on Bus?
My guess is that Haliburton will get the contracts to widen the freeways. Oh, and Donald Rumsfeld secretly owns a stake in many major bottled-water companies.
September 23, 2005
I Blame the Hurricanes... and the Jews in the Path of the Hurricanes
Another very busy day for me. I'll try to make time for my IMW and Superego (does everyone get the title now... not that anyone asked a question about it before) update, but hopefully the other bloggers can give you the quality humor you've come to expect from IMAO, the primary news source for people in the know (you like our new slogan?). Unfortunately, some of those bloggers are fleeing hurricanes.
BTW, they keep talking about how the hurricane is weakening from a Category 5 to a Category 4 on the news like that's such a great thing.
"Hey, we thought a nuclear bomb was about to go off a block from you, but ends up its just an atomic bomb!"
We all saw what a Category 4 did to New Orleans (I've only personally dealt with Category 3 storms), so keep America in your prayers... and especially Laurence Simon, IMAO's token Jew.
September 22, 2005
Sheehan Changes Name In Bid To Remain Newsworthy
Today antiwar activist Cindy Sheehan announced the paperwork to change her name legally to Hurricane Bushisawarcriminal has been filed.
Citing an extreme low pressure region behind her eyes, she predicts that she "will be the most devastating blast of hot air to strike at an American president in recent time, at least since what happened to Clinton." She added, she has no plans to dissipate while over land either and intends to be very unpredictable.
"You'll definitely want to closely watch me, Hurricane Bushisawarcriminal, since neither logic, facts, reason nor prevailing wind of current opinon control my movements", she stated.
The following probability cone was released in conjunction with the announcement.
Thanks to sandor at the zoo telling me about the opportunity, I've signed up for the press screening of Serenity in Orlando on Tuesday (I haven't been this excited to see a movie in a long while). Any other bloggers going to be going to the Orlando screening?
Carnival, scratch that, BonFire of Comedy Number 21 is UP
Apparently Mr < a href="http://www.basilsblog.net">BASIL (Hah all CAPS, thats right, that'll show you, you rebel) thinks he can just ignore my rules for categorizing the carnival entries.
Instead he just ridicules them, all of them, even HARVEY'S entry!
Well, you can go see this flagrant violation of longstanding, universally accepted and somewhat, dare I say it, hallowed Carnival of comedy rules at the current
BASIL'S site will remain up even if BASIL himself suffers mild to badgerous harm.
I'll Update When I Update
Sorry to not posting anything so far today. Real busy at work right now. I have an IMW started as I do the next part of Superego, but I'm not sure when I'll get to them.
BTW, as SarahK has started taking over administrative duties of the site, she's added our wedding registry to the left side bar. How many cooking utensils do we need?
Because I Need to at Least Pretend to Care
With Rita being a Category 5, any ideas what we should do for Laurence Simon's memorial service? I was thinking something tasteful and dignified but then realized that totally wouldn't fit.
Seriously, everyone pray for Laurence Simon and family... even though he killed Jesus.
Looking at the latest projections and going through at least two changes of shorts, looks like I'll be heading further north after all sometime later today.
I will not entrust our three cats to shelters and humane societies. We lost one this year already. We will not risk losing others, despite the good-hearted intentions of those who would take them in.
Clearing the patio of future UFO's. Will post before and after photos.
Have 45, 10, and 59 been set as all-lanes-outbound yet? Or did they hand off the escape route planning to Ray Nagin and he's officially declared I-610 the way out of town?
September 21, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 34 - The Id and the Ego
* * * *
For situations like this, I kinda wished I smoked so I could light a cigarette to look extra casual when a gun is on me. I don't smoke, though; even with the regulations that make cigarettes full of nutrients and causes to them to clean and strengthen your lungs, I just never bought on to the idea of setting something on fire and putting it in my mouth.
I looked past the gun pointed at me to see a tear running down Diane's face. I really hoped this wasn't going to be some dumb emotional woman thing; still, maybe there was a chance she'd pull the trigger. If she did, it was me or her - and guess who I'd choose.
"You almost got me killed," Diane spat at me, "you made me kill people, you got me aiding a massacre, and now I am a member of the crime family that killed my parents, but what upsets me most is I actually started to trust you. I'm not a naive person, I guess I just..." She seemed to have gotten stuck on how to finish that sentence.
"This may not be the best place to discuss this," I suggested.
"I want answers now!" she shouted, her gun keeping a solid lock on my face.
"Well, for starters, about everything I told the Senator was true. Also..."
"I have received a message for you," Dip said in my ear.
"Can it wait?" I answered back, "Diane is demanding my attention now."
"Does she have a gun on you?" He had predicted that would happen.
"Dip, I'll talk to you later." I looked to Diane, trying to meet her eyes past the gun she had on me. "Anyway, I would expect Morrigan to be gone when we get back to HQ. The way I set things up, it will look like she disappeared because of embarrassment. Now the plan is..."
"I'm not taking you back to police headquarters."
"Fine. Why don't we get a bite to eat and continue this discussion?"
"I'm not hungry."
I looked down trying to think and noticed the burnt mark on my side. It looked like the bolt that grazed me only damaged my jacket. "You could help me shop for a new jacket."
"Are you trying to be funny, Rico?" Her face was stern again. No more tears.
"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not actually very good with people," I said with a weak smile, "I don't think you want to kill me, though, and you probably figured I don't want to kill you or I would have done so already."
Diane put away her gun. "Get in the car, Rico."
I got in the passenger side and she took it into the air. She put it onto autopilot and I figured we were probably just flying a circle over the city. We were both quiet for a while; I wasn't sure where to start explaining things, and she probably wasn't sure what questions to ask first.
"Maybe I should start by explaining a fundamental fact about me," I suggested.
"I'm not sure if I'll care, but go ahead."
She was angry. Frightened, but much more angry. I wasn't sure how to deal with that; like most things now, it was far beyond me. "Like I said, I'm not so good with people. That's because of a handicap I have."
"A handicap?" Diane said incredulously.
"Well... uh... have you ever heard of Sigmund Freud... a psychologist from way way back on our homeworld?"
"Anyway, he had a lot of theories on human behavior - some of them kinda ignored now - but I liked the way he characterized the human psyche which I think applies well to other sentients. He divided it into three parts: the id, the ego, and the superego.
"The id is someone's base desires - like hunger, anger, the sex drive, etc. When you start out as a baby, all you have is your id. If you're hungry and see someone with a sandwich, the id would be a desire to just grab the sandwich and eat it.
"The ego is basically the human consciousness and how you interact with the world. It restrains the id by understanding how the world works and develops quickly as a human grows and learns. The ego would say you couldn't just take a sandwich and eat it because it's someone else's and he would get angry.
"The superego is your morality and the last part of the psyche to develop. It would tell you not to take someone's sandwich because that is wrong... or, if you did steal someone sandwich, it's what would make you feel guilty afterwards.
"So, what my deal is that I have a very diminished id, but I completely lack a superego. What allows me to interact somewhat with normal society is I'm quite intelligent and have developed a very advanced ego to compensate for my lack of understanding of moral codes that come natural to others."
I was silent a moment to let that all sink in. She looked at me with no discernable emotion on her face. I probably showed no emotion either. I had no idea which one was appropriate for this occasion anyway.
She then started laughing hysterically.
Hurricane Rita has now bent its projected path to hit Matagorda, which would put my city of Houston in what would be Category 1-force winds at worst.
Normally, Jews are only capable of controling the weather to the point of keeping it from raining when we've paid twenty bucks for a car wash and detail. However, in large numbers, we've been known to stop larger weather phenomena.
carnival of comedy reminder
basil is hosting the carnival of comedy this week on his blog, basil's blog. i'm not sure how he came up with the name, though. he doesn't capitalize his name so i am not using any capltals in this reminder post.
boise, idaho! i couldn't go without at least one. that's the only one I'll use.
of course sarahk and cadet happy don't use them much either but i digress.
come on folks, submit some good funny for basil this week. don't get "stuck on stupid"
info about joining the carnival is here
Let's Talk About Videogames
I like videogames. I've been a Nintendo loyalist since I got the NES deluxe system with the lightgun and robot when I was a kid. I've even stuck with GameCube and been happy as Nintendo taken number three in the home system race. Still, for the next generation, I am planning to get either the XBox 360 or Playstation 3 (I used to say, "I'm done with videogames," for each new generation - I did it for Super Nintendo, N64, and the GameCube before buying each - but I'm old enough not to pretend anymore). Nintendo has made huge marketing errors lately, and I was pretty sure about all third party support would abandon them in this next generation. As Microsoft and Sony were hyping their systems, Nintendo just showed what the new console would look like, had no demo software, and refused to show off their super-secret controller.
And I was like, "Whatever. I don't even care about you guys anymore."
Now the controller has been revealed. And, my reaction seemed to follow a lot of people.
"It looks like a remote control; what morons made this?"
"...though it is kinda interesting."
"...and could possibly completely change the way we play videogames!"
While the new systems from Sony and Microsoft are just more of the same (yay, more polygons), Nintendo actually seems to have something innovative. Being that the system - whenever it comes out - should be much cheaper than the other two, maybe Nintendo still has a chance. And the controller might just be intuitive enough that SarahK could play a first person shooter without her character spending half its time bumping into walls while staring at its feet.
That would be something.
So, what do you videogame players think? I'm still going to have SarahK add the XBox 360 to our wedding registry just in case.
The Top Ten Demands of the North Koreans in Exchange for Dismantling their Nuclear Weapons Program
It seemed that North Korea was going to dismantle their nuclear weapons program, but it ended up they wanted nuclear reactors in exchange (what's a country with no food going to do with all that electricity?). They had ten other demands - ranked as it was - and are as follows:
THE TOP TEN DEMANDS OF THE NORTH KOREANS IN EXCHANGE FOR DISMANTLING THEIR NUCLEAR WEAPONS PROGRAM
10. A respectable publisher for their dictator's rap album Kim Jong Il'n.
9. A chicken with a pulley in the middle for some reason.
8. The dog from Fraiser... in a nice butter sauce.
7. A little black purse that goes with everything.
6. A promise we won't invade them.
5. The names of good contractors for spider holes if we break the previous promise.
4. More staring roles for Koreans in network sitcoms.
3. A hug.
2. An XBox 360.
And the number one demand of the North Koreans in exchange for dismantling their nuclear weapons program...
That other half of that sandwich there... ya know... if you weren't going to eat it.
bush lies, mars fries . . .
if i have learned anything from "school bus" ray naggin in the last few weeks, it is that a man has to stand up and admit when he is wrong. to date, i had dismissed the global warming fanatics as clueless self-interested idealogues, pushing an agenda that has no scientific basis. however, i was shocked to learn today that mars is experiencing global warming as well! something must be done! not only have we screwed up our planet, we are now scewing up or interplanetary neighbors. therefore, i call on president bush to immediately sign into law the kyoto treaty and cut greenhouse emissions in the u.s. by 75% in the next 5 years. i am also calling on the volcanoes of the world to agree to a 25 year moratorium on eruptions. i think if we all work together we can save mars!
Hunger Strike! The Untold Story
Wait... that doesn't make any sense.
There must be some other reason for the hunger strikes, about which I speculate thusly:
Think that a gaunt, haggard appearance will make them look sexy - like supermodels!
Really pissed off about being served kosher pickles.
We won't even talk about the matzoh balls.
Trying to trick the guards into force-feeding them to satisfy their nasal-tube fetish.
A publicity stunt to get Cindy Sheehan to stop by.
Brad... Jennifer... *sob*... who can eat?
Can't properly flush a Koran using the low-flow toilets in their cells.
They're deathly afraid of hamburgers after having seen "Supersize Me".
After a 30-day interrogation session featuring Beatles music & Dr. Seuss books, they refuse to eat anything except green eggs and walrus.
Not taking a bite until Season 2 of Firefly goes into production.
I might join them for that one.
I suppose I should be concerned about this tragic development, but somehow I just can't find it in my heart to care.
I'm too broken up about Brad & Jennifer.
Always Two There Are
Ever noticed how the Emperor and The Donald seem to be cut from the same cloth?
You are not alone. More below the fold.
Funny, No? Except this is not a spoof. I actually got this in an email from the starwars fansite.
PS. Sorry the poster doesn't look right, it was HTML copied out the email.
Where's the new IMAudiO?
Good question. We're working on it, but a number of personal issues have come up with a lot of the cast so this one is slow coming. Also, SarahK is going to take over some producing (though we hope Scott can still find time to put the overall effort together since he has the skillz) since she has the spare time. We're also trying to come up with a business plan (knowing money is on the line will keep us working more consistently).
BTW, as part of her spare time, SarahK borrowed my SUV to go to Orlando since mine has the better gas mileage out of the two SUVs we own. Aren't we going to make a great American family? Heavily armed, both with concealed weapons, two SUVs, and hopefully a big dog to replace those stupid cats. Add in a gaggle of kids educated with morality, and we will rule this nation!
September 20, 2005
Ah, the token Jew of IMAO is up to his old tricks
I've noticed that with every Muslim baby I sacrifice to Jehovah in my nightly Neoconervative rituals, the track of Hurricane Rita is bending that much more towards Mexico.
This sure beats soap sculptures and making pictures with glue and macaroni, even if it does tend to stain the carpet something fierce.
big time blogson
the first known blogson of both Frank J. and SarahK, Ma Deuce Gunner, was recognized by Time magazine as one of 5 Riveting Soldier Blogs (go to page two of the article to see the actual writeup on MDG). congratulations to MDG!
(p.s. i love your new gun icons. way cute!)
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 33 - Yojimbo
* * * *
"Though I am expecting a raise over Corloni, I think you'll see my rates are quite reasonable." I heard more guns firing outside. No woman screaming in pain at least. "Now, could you tell everyone to stop shooting so we can have a civilized discussion?"
Gredler took a radio off one of his dead bodyguards. "Everyone, stop shooting and put away your weapons!"
There was quiet. I opened the door a crack and yelled, "Tommy, holster your gun and get over here!"
The Senator had regained enough of his composure to stand up straight. "If you wanted us to hire you, you didn't need to shoot your way in!"
"I was going to hand my resume at the door, but your idiots fired first. Anyway, I think it made a good demonstration that your security isn't nearly up to par." Diane now came in the room, gun still drawn, Zippy floating by her side, and a face full of confusion (the one emotion that seemed to have won out over all the others probably raging inside her). "Tommy, put the gun away; the shooting is over. Right, Senator?"
"I would say so."
Diane holstered her gun and went to a neutral expression. I could tell she was ready to lash out in some fashion but was smart enough to just play it cool for now. It looked liked she might live through this yet.
"By the way, this is my associate Tommy."
"I thought you worked alone," Gredler replied.
"Well, there is alone and then there's alone."
He nodded knowingly to that meaningless statement.
A couple suited Randatti thugs cautiously made their way in the room, looking both confused and angry. I kept my arms crossed and didn't look to them. Diane seemed to be trying to act casual.
"Could you get the bodies out of here?" Gredler demanded angrily, "I'm negotiating some competent protection!"
"These people killed our associates and..." one guard shouted, but as he put a hand on Diane, Zippy shot him and he fell unconscious to the ground.
"Yes, we shot our way in here past all you nitwits," Diane replied sharply to those still standing, "So show us a little respect!"
She was a lovely woman, no doubt about it. I was glad I decided to take our relationship to the next level.
The bodyguards - dead, unconscious, and alive - were soon out of the room. Senator Gredler then took a seat at his desk, and I took one in front of it and Diane beside me. The Senator insisted on talking to us alone, probably to show he didn't fear us (though he reeked of fear).
"I know what you're thinking," I started (I didn't know what Diane was thinking, though), "'How can I trust this guy if he's so ready to betray the Corloni?' Well, they betrayed me first. I was hired to kill you - as you probably suspected - but then there was the leak. I'm no fool; the Corloni leaked the hit themselves to make sure they could start a war... and also make sure I didn't come out of this alive."
"They want you dead as well?"
"I'm very loyal, but I guess some of my methods are questionable. Rather than confront me on it, they lined me up for a suicide mission thinking I was too stupid to see it coming. If the Randatti treat me better, I can ensure them my loyalty and a chance to smash the Corloni once and for all."
"That's a bold claim; I can certainly get you asylum for information on the Corloni's plans."
"Asylum doesn't suit us."
"Not much for hiding," Diane added. Guess she felt like she should say something. She must be exploding inside seeing Senator Gredler nearly admitting his ties to organized crime in front of her.
"Anyway, you should know that there are other Corloni killers here already. They're led by a woman going by the name Morrigan Dawson and posing as a fed working on finding the assassin after you. Her job is twofold: to make sure I die anyway if I somehow succeeded in the hit on you, and to make sure you die if I didn't get far enough in the hit to off you. Her people are all female, so the backup would most likely be some new female relation you've made - I assume a Corridian."
I could tell from his expression someone came to mind.
"I'm sure word of my changing sides will get out quick, so she's likely to disappear soon - though, if you're quick, you can disappear her yourself if you're the vengeful type. Anyway, the Corloni will now be coming at you with a lot more than a couple girls."
"This stupid diversity speech is becoming way more trouble than it's worth!" Gredler shouted.
"The Randatti know their survival is tied to having a strong presence in the Galactic Alliance, and that means a strong Senator on their side," "Tommy" said, "The stronger the Corloni come at you, the stronger you'll be politically when you survive."
Good 'ole adaptable Diane. "And now we can set a trap to really weaken Corloni in this."
"Sounds good, Rico..."
"Well, Rico, I will relay this to my associates... and handle some other things. You're making a strong play here." Heh. He was assuring me of my survival.
"I'll give you how to contact me; we have some planning ourselves to handle," I answered, "What I need from you is all the information you have on the convention center where you are speaking. Send it to my other associate, Dip, and I'll have a slaughter set up for you. You shake hands with me, and you have a powerful ally."
"That I see," Gredler said. He then held out his hand, and we shook.
I stood up, and Diane followed my lead. "Sorry for the extravagant entrance. I'll let you clean up now. I'd offer to stay and give you some personal protection for the time being, but we have some loose ends to handle."
"I can offer you lodging here."
"Thanks, but not my style. Let's keep in touch."
Diane and I headed out of the villa, the remaining guards keeping a close eye on us. When we were outside, I told Diane, "Put Zippy away."
"You handled yourself expertly in there, by the way."
She grunted in response.
"Out of curiosity, how many kills?"
She said nothing.
When we were further away still, I told her, "You said you wanted a chance to take down both criminal syndicates, now I'm going to give it to you. Hopefully the Randatti take the bait."
"Super duper," she replied dryly, not looking at me.
We made it back to her car, and I tossed her radio to her. "Didn't want you calling for backup and ruining everything."
She took it, put it away, and then the inevitable happened. She took a quick step away from me while drawing her gun and pointing it at my head.
It was time for us to talk.
Frank Hurricane Preparedness Tips
"What's with all the hurricanes?" you're probably asking, "And why isn't the U.S. government stopping them?" Well, hurricanes are a global problem, and thus the U.N. should take care of them. We could do it for them, but then the U.N. will never learn responsibility.
As for what causes hurricanes, some say global warming. The only way to prove this, though, is to heat some sort of globe in a lab and see what happens. This would require a globe heating device - something you'll only find in bad science fiction. Thus, we just have to accept that hurricanes happen and we don't know why (though it probably has to do with there being so many gays in Miami).
Since we can't stop hurricanes, all we can do is prepare for them. I had previously written a Know Thy Enemy: Hurricanes, but now I want to focus exclusively on what you can do to prepare for and survive a hurricane. Thus, I wrote a neato guide.
FRANK HURRICANE PREPAREDNESS TIPS
* HURRICANE OR NOT: The first step to hurricane preparedness is to know whether you are actually dealing with a hurricane and not just a rainy day. You could rely on the MSM, but they are notoriously liberal biased. Instead, check for yourself by standing outside. Remember, a hurricane has lots of rain and high speed winds. If there is only lots of rain, simply put on a raincoat (should be banana yellow for highest efficacy). If there is only lots of high speed wind, then it's a tornado and you're done for because this guide doesn't cover that. When you have lots of rain and the high speed winds, congratulations, you are in a hurricane.
* FLEEING: Also known as the Parisian Maneuver, you can flee particularly strong hurricanes. This will only encourage hurricanes, though, so it's best to stand and fight.
* WINDOWS: Strong windows are essential for your house to withstand a hurricane. On most houses, windows are much more likely to break than the walls (unless you live a glass house; if so, eschew stone throwing). The best way to test your windows is the Sledgehammer Window Test where you hit your windows with a sledgehammer... as a test. If the windows break, replace with stronger windows. If no break, hooray! For this test, it may be a good idea to wear safety goggles... or have your kids do it.
There is a rumor about opening windows to equalize air pressure in your house in the case of strong winds. This is bunkum. Keep your windows shut, especially if you're my neighbors and like to play loud music.
* FLOODING: With hurricanes, there is the risk of flood. Most regular insurance policies do not cover flooding. If you have flood insurance, then you're an idiot because all you need to stop flooding is sandbags. Water is unable to penetrate sand; that's why we put sand on all our coastlines to keep the oceans at bay. The reason we have sandbags is because sand is tough to carry if not in a bag. If you properly stack sandbags around your house, then you have no flood worries (you may want to put razor wire at the top of your sandbag stacks to show the flood waters you are serious).
When figuring out how high to stack your sandbags, it's best to take in account where your house is in regards to sea level. If your house is on top of a mountain in Colorado, then you don't need to stack very many sandbags if you hear a hurricane is approaching North America.
* FOOD AND WATER: When preparing to bunker down for a hurricane, make sure you have plenty of food and potable water. How is potable water different from drinking water? I'm not sure, but, in hurricane situations, everyone uses the word "potable" so you better make sure the water you buy is labeled such.
When taking inventory of your supplies, make sure to ask your self important questions:
"If I have a sudden craving for quesadillas, am I prepared?"
"While I might have enough water for drinking and cleaning my socks, if a water balloon fight breaks out, do I have enough water (and balloons) to return fire?"
"If the water balloon fight turns into a war and then a quagmire, how long can I keep armed with water balloons until my water supply is exhausted?"
"If the only food left is Spam, am I prepared to eat it, or is that the time to resort to cannibalism?"
* FIREARMS: As always, make sure to have guns. After a hurricane, there may be looters who try to take your stuff. They will stop if you shoot them. If you see someone with stuff you think may not be his, he's a looter. Shoot him before he tries to loot you.
The problem with hurricanes is that you will be operating in wet conditions. Will your shotgun work when wet? It's best now to test this by doing target practice while standing in a running shower. You could also look up the make and model of your gun on the internet, but information on the 'net is highly unreliable and should not be trusted in a life or death situation.
* PETS: If you have small pets, they could be blown away in the hurricane. It's best to tact them down so you don't lose them or if you just find it annoying when they run around. I have this heavy wrought iron thing (I'm not sure what it is) that I like to put on top of my cat Sydney to pin her down so she'll stop running around and jumping on the furniture.
QUICK PET TIP: Instead of feeding your dog and then eating him as a last resort, it's best to eat him right away and then eat the dog food yourself. You'll have more food that way. Remember: You're dog would eat you if it came to it, and, if he's a pit bull, he probably already has plans.
* MISCELLANEOUS: Make sure to have matches. They make fire, and you might want that. You may want some flashlights, but, if you're staying in your own house, there is nothing new or interesting to see. Also, have some rope. Rope is always useful. Oh, and a graphing calculator. If I'm not completely sure what I'm up against, I like to have a graphing calculator.
* * * *
If you follow all these hurricane tips, you are sure to increase your chance of survival by some intangible amount. This was yet another public service of IMAO.
An Ode To Simon
I woke up to the horror that Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal was dead.
For a while I thought "This can't be. Maybe it's really Steve Irwin that Crocodile Hunter guy who died and they just got the headlines mixed up."
Nope. Dead Nazi hunter.
What I liked best about Simon Wiesenthal was his humor about hutning Nazis. He's have on his big poofy yamulke and carry around that absurd shotgun he never hit anything with, and he'd all of the sudden stop and whisper "Be vewwy vewwy qwiet, I'm hunting Nazis."
And his laugh. Oh, how his laugh used to make me laugh.
Goodbye, Simon. May those old men hiding in the wilderness of Paraguay and Argentina break their hips when they dance at the news.
To the Moon... Again
So the plan is now to send four people to the moon in 2018. Sure, that's twice as many people as in the old missions, but that's so long from now that I'll be nearly forty (and will probably have been elected President in 2016 and who knows what funding I'll cut). Everyone who previously went to the moon will probably be dead. Everyone who watched the first moon landing will be really old and confused and think they're seeing a news rerun when the new landing happens.
Why is this going to take so long? Are we even going to reach Mars in my lifetime? When JFK first proposed going to the moon in a drunken boast, we were there like three weeks later. That's 'cause we had the Soviets to compete against. I think it's time that America just admit it's not as productive without the Soviets, and the Russians admit their half-assed democracy ain't going anywhere. Then the Soviets rebuild and we have an evil super-power rival to prove we're better than. Sorry, but a bunch of retardo Islamist just ain't going to inspire us to make a mission to any celestial body.
So how does NASA get the funding to rebuild the Soviet Union?
September 19, 2005
Flight 93 Memorial Thoughts
The 'Crescent of Embrace' Flight 93 Memorial could work to the satisfaction of many if we are only able to look at it from a slightly different angle.
Of course you know, the crescent is a symbol of your friendly neighborhood religion of peace, Islam. The crescent symbolizes this whether the 'artist' is willing to admit or not. But its not all bad. We just add a couple of stars. Like so.
Assuming you remember 'Let's roll', you may or not realize where I am going with this.
Everyday, right before the time flight 93 went down on September 11th 2001 and as close as can be determined that the 'Let's roll' comment was made and the heroes aboard the doomed plane, took their bold action. red white and blue steamrollers appears out of (seemingly) nowhere and pushes a black crescent into view around. Simultaneously two black circles are moved over the stars and opposite the crescents two black diagonal lines are moved in by more steamrollers.
Then at the moment the plane would hit the ground the red crescent is pushed so that it is completely covered by the black crescent and the star and circle fall ito slot revealing their edges which are two black crosses.
The people who are in attendance should have seating or some other observation deck where they can hear and see the surprising yet smashing tranformation of the crescent.
I call the redesigned monument the Crescent Roll of Heroes.
Ok, maybe the site is too big for this, but it's better than what they are planning.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 32 - Storming the Castle
* * * *
I gave it 10 to 1 odds that the Randatti both knew about me from previous hits and figured I was a good candidate for the lone killer hired to take out Gredler. Thus, they would make sure their people knew what I looked like. Dip had some different odds, but I prefer my own analyzation for such things.
There were plans if I wasn't recognized, but they were moot now.
Neither of the two thugs had finished fully drawing their guns before I drew both of mine and put a large hole in each of them.
"WHAT ARE YOU..."
"Three things," I interrupted Diane, speaking quickly but calmly as I charged my blasters. "First, take note that they started to draw first. Second, if you have Zippy with you, I'd have him watch the door when we enter. Finally, there should be a lot of Randatti thugs shooting at us, and I suggest shooting back."
What Diane did next was the wildcard. She could remain confused and get her pretty little head blown off, but my guess was she'd adapt. Dip didn't have enough information to put odds on that one.
Hopefully she wouldn't spend too much time trying to find her radio to call for backup since I already swiped it.
The charged blasts destroyed the front doors, and I ran in shooting, firing my guns before I even identified targets. There were at least a dozen low rent thugs in expensive suits waiting in the main room, and now they were scattering for cover while firing in panic. I took a lot down quickly but ducked by some cover as I moved for the stairway. A couple more shots and there was a moment of calm.
"Watch my back! I'm going upstairs to have a chat with the Senator!" I called to Diane. Her little robot was flying near the door to catch any exterior guards trying to run inside. She had her blaster out and seemed to be in battle mode, scanning the room ready to fire on any who came at us.
Good girl; save questions for later. I smiled as I headed up the stairs and heard Diane following behind me. If she survived this, it would really increase the fun factor of the next part.
More guards appeared ahead of me and fell dead before they could comprehend what they saw. I heard Diane's blaster (different sound from the others) and the thuds of two bodies in the distance. That's my killer.
If my guess was right about where the Senator would be hiding now, it was going to be a deadly run down a hallway. "Stay here and watch that no one comes up behind me. I'll call you when I need you."
"Rico! What..." she started to say, but stopped to fire at another thug across the room. I charged into hallway ahead of me, firing like a madman. I ripped up a lot of the walls and a few bodyguards in the effort. As I passed a few doorways, I switched to walking down the hall sideways, one gun pointed forward and one rearward, giving my peripheral a good workout as I tried to watch both directions. This slowed me down, but it wasn't my nature to let someone else watch my back (namely Diane who I would guess was ready to have some huge emotional outburst soon as her life wasn't being immediately threatened). A few more kills, a few more bodies to hop over, and I was to Senator Gredler's room.
A swift kick sent the door flying open, and I fired upon the five bodyguards inside. I was as quick as possible, but they were waiting for me. They fell, but there was also smoke coming from my side. I think my jacket was just singed, but I wasn't about to pause and check. I kicked the door closed and found Gredler huddled under a desk.
Corridians, like most alien species, look about all the same to me, but he had that arrogant air of a politician about him, even as he cowered below me. He knew there were more bodyguards outside about to rush me, but he also knew he was just one trigger pull away from dead.
"You're making a mistake!" he yelled, "I'll pay you dou... triple what the Corloni were paying you! You can name your price!"
I smiled, holstered my guns, and then attached a transmitter to the computer on Gredler's desk. "Dip, send him my rates."
A Legendary Power to Be Unleashed
Ahoy! Tis be Dread Pirate J. once again. I never care much for the likes of judges, but the Parliament has practically been keelhauling John Roberts, him keeping his calm through the whole ordeal. Those scallywag Democrat Senators want a judge who could look at a treasure map and discover a right for free prescription drugs, but they'll not get their wish.
So who will be the next judge to be nominated? I'll share some information I had found in a parchment from a ship we plundered. The next nominee for the Supreme Court will be...
The Uber Conservative!
Some say he be but legend - a tale told by those overtaken by sea-madness - but I say otherwise! An un-Godly creation he be, made from mixing the DNA of Reagan, Goldwater, William F. Buckley, and Bork and then infused with essence of dragon and woodchuck. He be so conservative, that he must be held in a sealed chamber by a strong magnetic field to keep his conservative power from breaking free and destroying everything.
I hear, though, that the wily Bush will unleash him before the judicial committee. The extreme conservatism emanating from him will destroy all the Democrats in attendance. Even the blubberous Ted Kennedy will be melted to a giant pile of goo reeking of rum. Har har! A lovely site it will be.
Now where's me grog?
His Other Memorials
I've discovered some of the earlier works of Paul Murdoch, who designed the controversial Crescent of Embrace memorial for Flight 93.
Apparently he likes working with Red Maple trees... (see extended entry)...
Here's his "Mushroom of Compassion" memorial in Hiroshima:
and his "Oven of Friendship" memorial near Auschwitz:
As with "Crescent", these memorials are "not about offering explanation for what happened, but to allow people to come to terms with it."
Arrr! Where's the Pork?
NOTE: This post complies with ISO 9001 and Talk Like a Pirate Day standards.
Avast! It be Dread Pirate J. Things were to be back to normal in the stormy political seas of Washington D.C. (there be dragons there), but some meddlesome bloggers are trying to spoil the plundering of booty! I ought to run them through with me cutlass! Arrr!
Aye, the port of New Orleans was a fun place to spend the doubloons between pillaging, and miss it I do. But some landlubbers think the colonies’ taxes should go to helping the citizens of Orleans instead of the usual treasures - treasures they dismissively call "pork." I say they should worry less the pork and worry more the grog, but they want people (pillagees, I call them) to tell the Parliament to cut this pork so there be money for the flooded New Orleans. Leading this be Reynolds, scourge of the puppies, the scurvy Bear, and blog-wench Malkin.
Arrr! Fools! All of them! Sure, you go to ye member of parliament and tell him to cut the pork for your state, then that just leaves more for the rest of us! Har har! Everyone else will be getting freeways named after their Senators and bronze statues of their Representatives, and you'll have nothing to play with but your bilge pump! But I guess you'll be happy because ye be helping the less fortunate.
Har har har!
Gave me a hearty laugh, there. The less fortunate just means more fools to plunder, lest ye be too chickenhearted for a good pillaging.
Now, I'll be signaling my Senators to keep bringing home the pork... lest I keelhaul the lot of them.
Still Not a Cat Person
This is a pretty accurate transcript from yesterday.
Yeah, since I rescued the kitten Sydney from my company's parking lot in January, she's grown on me, but to be honest, I still get more companionship from memories of the German Shepherd I had while growing up.
Plus, Lady never clawed my toes while I was trying to sleep in (though she would lick my face at my dad's beckoning).
UPDATE: I forgot one thing - Arrr!
Meow Like A Pirate Day
And now, a message from our Resident Pirate:
Yarr! I be Captain Cattoy, Mateys!
I be huntin' the Orange Tiger that goes by the name of Narrrrrrrrrdo. I hear tell his collar's made of gold.
Join me crew, or I'll keel-haul the lot of ye!
(I put the pirate in catnip overnight, so we'll see if Nardo grabs him during the day. When I last saw him, he was sleeping under Piper's rocking chair.)
Don't Tell Me You Don't Know What Day It Is?
This scurvy ridden pirate used up about all his piratey post two years ago (here be the archives for September 2003; you'll have to scroll down to the 19th yerself - Arrr!), but today all ye landlubbers must talk like pirates in the comments. If you don't, I'll keelhaul ya!
Under New Management
The lovely and talented SarahK will be taking over administrative duties on IMAO and begin to finally update things that are probably more than a year overdue for updating. She also has full access to all posts and can correct my grammar mistakes as I post them.
Also, Links of the Day™ will be back with her running it. If you have a great post (it should be an especially good post you're proud of - not necessarily humorous - or some post or link you stumbled on that you think deserves attention), then e-mail her. I don't have an IMAO e-mail for her yet (I plan on having e-mails for all the bloggers here) so go to her site and use her e-mail there to submit your links.
September 17, 2005
Just in case you didn't know...
Curious George was invented by a Jewish couple fleeing the Nazis.
if you don't like Will Ferrell, you may be tempted to wish that they'd have gotten caught during their escape to prevent the world from having to suffer through another lousy Will Ferrell movie, but I'd rather you wish that Alex Trebek had followed up on his threat to have Ferrell rubbed out.
Sadly, Trebek did not voice his death threats in the form of a question, and he lost his turn.
Crescent of Embrace is Fine
Some folks are upset that the Flight 93 memorial "Crescent of Embrace" resembles an Islamic crescent.
Me, I'm ok with making a point of reminding people exactly what religion those murdering terrorists s***bags thought justified their actions.
And if it's true that it's oriented toward Mecca, then it's also handy for showing which way to aim our ICBM's.
September 16, 2005
A Carnival Of Comedy Double Cross?
Was there treachery involved in the no IMAO linkage to this week's Carnival?
No, I (being the only IMAO blogger mentally capable of actually linking to the carnival) was just out of action while Bob posted the XX th Carnival Of Comedy.
Hey two X's, that IS a double cross! Nah, it's just the number 20 in a popular dead language. Phoenecian I think.
About Glenn Reynolds
If you're one of the few people that still goes to Instapundit, you've probably noticed how pathetic his "about me" post is. Sure, he's got a tiny blurb about "I wrote this & that wonderfully boring piece of tripe, gaze upon my works ye mighty and despair", but he really needs something more... personal. Something to make him seem more human.
Or less INhuman, as the case may be.
So I thought I'd do my part to help the old guy out - since he finally linked the podcast - and recommend some biographical tidbits that he ought to share.
ABOUT GLENN REYNOLDS
* Glenn got to be the top blogger in the Ecosystem through a series of carefully targeted assassinations, which explains why you never hear about JimmyHoffa.com anymore.
* Glenn invented reusable toilet paper, which, for some reason, never really caught on.
* Except in France.
* Glenn's owns an '88 Yugo with license plate PPBLNDR
* Glenn's incredibly thick geek-glasses were originally a gift from a fat kid who used them to start campfires while stranded on an island with a group of feral boys.
* Glenn's day job is with the law firm of Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe.
* Glenn's first web page was actually a Judy Garland fan site.
* It was later sold to Andrew Sullivan for an undisclosed sum.
* According to Glenn, baby seals "taste just like chicken"
* Glenn owns 7 shirts, 7 ties, 7 pairs of pants, 7 pairs of socks, 7 pairs of underwear, 7 sports coats, and 7 pairs of shoes, all exactly the same. It saves him the trouble of having to decide what to wear on any given day.
* Unfortunately, he keeps grabbing the same set of clothes, much to the dismay of those who have to work with him on Fridays.
* Somewhere a portrait of Glenn is magically growing increasingly old and ugly.
* Glenn owns a very popular chain of fast food joints in Tennessee called "EvilBurger"
* People say the burgers "taste just like chicken."
If you know any of any important biographical tidbits that I've missed, you can drop them in the comments.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 31 - Saying Hello
* * * *
"That's a lovely scent you're wearing, Diane," I said as I peered through my binoculars at the guards in front of the villa Senator Gredler was staying at.
She was looking at the same with her binoculars. "Same as all the other times you've been around me."
"No, there's something different. I smell..." I paused to sniff a bit. "Gun oil... gun powder."
"Was at the range this morning and I have a gun powder based gun as backup. Cleaned it before I came to pick you up."
"Good choice." The jacket was hanging off one of the guards such that I could see the handle of the weapon he was carrying. "See that. See the gun on that one guard?"
"I see just a little of it. What about it, Rico?"
"You can tell from the marking that it's a FR-76 Blaster. Quality firearms made on Sindel 7... a planet pretty much owned by the Randatti. Almost no one other than Randatti thugs can get their hands on such weaponry."
She set down her binoculars. "When you'd become the expert on the criminal syndicates?"
I put away my binoculars and smiled at her. "Been doing some reading. Those are Randatti thugs; no doubt about it."
"I said Gredler was dirty... but how does this help us catch the assassin?"
"It's just all parts of the puzzle." I looked around at the little forest area we were hiding in. The sun peeked through the green leaves. "It's really a nice day, isn't it?"
"Rico, do you know how much trouble I could get in if Morrigan tells the Chief what I'm up to? And I have this crazy feeling she might be a bit vengeful right now. I'm not supposed to get anywhere near Senator Gredler... and this might constitute illegal surveillance."
"No. I'm saying I need a better reason for doing this. I’m not going to be able to arrest the Senator because you think you saw a suspicious gun. As for the killer, do you really expect we'll just run into him out here?"
"Possibly, but I don't feel like waiting." I stood up. "Let's go talk to those guards."
I started heading back down to the road to walk towards the entrance to the villa, Diane grudgingly following. "And what's the point of this?"
I chuckled. "I think it's what the killer would do."
"They're not going to want to talk to us... and I'm not going to risk my badge right now to force it."
"I think they'll want to talk to us."
The guards eyed us very threateningly as we approached. One was human, the other was some enormous alien with a face like a bulldog.
"I'm Detective Thompson," Diane said as she showed her badge, "and..."
The guards ignored her and stared at me. "YOU!" the large one shouted, beginning to reach for his gun.
I smiled, baring all my teeth. "Me."
? and the "laws of thermal dynamics"
Frank J and the rest of IMAO have been attacked yet again in the forums at Podcast Alley.com for daring to be both conservative and funny. The very thought that the Christian fundamentalist fascist Nazi homophobe racist he-man women haters at IMAO are funnier than most has the left acting holier than thou.
The latest threat to the self-righteous political left from the funny that is IMAO came when a new podcaster asked for feedback on podcasts that are relatively short in length—only 90 secs long as apposed to many podcasts that can be an excruciatingly boring 90 minutes.
After several of the unfunny lefties told the new podcaster that they liked podcasts that are an hour or more, IMAO posted this response:
It depends on the audience your potential clients are hoping to reach, Mr. Bischke. To illustrate this point, please review this totally scientific demographic breakdown of podcast listeners worldwide:
Most likely to download podcasts of 5-30 minutes in length:
Most likely to download podcasts of 30-60 minutes in length:
Most likely to download podcasts 60+ minutes in length:
I hope this information helps you make a decision and remember to check out:
The IMAO Podcast
Read on to see the pathetic response and find out how you can participate on this debate...
When a lefty podcaster named "O.C. Chris" read this, he responded with eight words followed by his forum signature:
"This would be funny if it didn't suck.
Ooooooh, now that hurts, O.C. Chris. Hmm... thermal dynamics? Although mortally wounded by O.C. Chris' incredibly witty comeback, IMAO somehow pecked out the following in response:
Keep in mind, gentle readers, that this person's podcast has a running time of well over 60+ minutes...
Oh, and by the way, it's "thermodynamics."
That's about the time that the O.C. Chris dropped his comedy H-bomb in retaliation:
No, jackass. I got the quote from the script.
And what is my podcast.[sic] Is it as bad as yours.[sic] Can anything be as bad as yours.[sic]
Now wouldn't it take someone that is dim witted to sit through a 60 min podcast.[sic] I think not.
Or is it that your[sic] not good enough to do more then 30 min of show?
Yes, his counterattack was to claim that IMAO is wrong because lefty comic genius O.C. Chris had personally pulled the "thermal dynamics" line directly from the script of The Simpson's (I'm sure Jennifer Crittenden, the talented comedienne that wrote the "PTA Disbands" episode along with producing hit shows like Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Arrested Development, is a big fan of O.C. Chris' podcast) and to fire off several bizarre questions (at least we think they were questions because it was difficult to tell without the question marks) regarding the length of the IMAudiO.
Bleeding and weak from the wounds made by the O.C. Chris' rapier-like wit, the only thing IMAO could do is to type a short response:
O.C. Chris: No, jackass. I got the quote from the script.
Ah, it ain't just a river runnin' though Egypt!
I'm sure O.C. Chris and his good buddies that write The Simpson's are strapping on comedy belts under their jackets for a suicide strike on IMAO at any moment... It's going to take the full shock and awe power of the IMAO Fans around the world to stop them!
To join the fray with your own comments, head over to Podcast Alley's forums.
And if you haven't already, be sure to vote for Frank J's IMAudiO masterpiece on Podcast Alley
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Today, it's Nardo the Killer Orangeboy leaping for a crawdad tail:
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... um...
Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.
BY THE WAY:
Catalan language sites? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, right. What's next? .heeb for Hebrew? .jew for Jewish content?
This was all a ruse to get cats their own TLD, and it has worked! And it was all Edloe's idea!
Katzen uber alles!
September 15, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 30 - Seduction
* * * *
"Well, you look cheery," Diane commented as I got in her car.
"The universe is an interesting place and something to be cheery about."
She chuckled. "Does this have anything to do with your meeting with Morrigan?"
I give five to one odds she spied on us, seeing that we argued. If she was still suspicious of me, that made her suspicious of Morrigan. "In a way. She tried to recruit me for some fed task force, but that just put back into perspective what's really important. Frankly, I'm getting anxious to get back to Rikar and apply some new techniques to cleaning that place up." Grade A BS.
"So you refused Morrigan's offer?"
"Of course... and I really don't like that woman."
"Let's not gossip behind her back," Diane chided me.
At the police HQ, we went to work trying to figure out some new ways to find Gredler's assassin. Of course, that was chasing my own tail, but an interesting exercise nonetheless. Morrigan and Verg had taken themselves and office which had a window overlooking most of the other desks (I only got a chair next to Diane’s desk). Morrigan looked towards me a couple time (I waved back), but she had yet to speak to me today. When I saw Verg leave the office, I decided it was time to start setting up the pieces in this new game Dip and I had designed.
"You know what the assassin is going to be doing right now, Diane."
"Scoping out the Senator's defenses."
"Where's he staying is a secret."
"A secret that the Corloni syndicate can't find out?"
Diane smiled. "So, what's your proposal?"
"We be like the killer; we head to where the Senator is and scope it out."
"Do you think we could find any clues on the perimeter of where he’s staying that Gredler's own people can't?"
"I don't care about that. I want to know his defenses, because I bet the assassin knows them too."
She laughed. "Okay, but we don't know where the Senator is."
"I bet the feds do... and Morrigan is trying to woo me."
"Oh yeah; it's embarrassing, really."
"It would be mean to lead her on, Rico."
"But I don't like her. Doesn't the Bible say to be mean to people you don't like?"
She giggled. "No, quite the opposite."
"Then I'll have to read it more thoroughly later." I got up and walked over to Morrigan's office, entered unannounced, and closed the door.
Morrigan tried to look at me with disinterest. "Your thingee is over there," she said, pointing to the carrying case for my automated tri-pod, "I had the blood cleaned off for you."
"Thanks; you're a doll. I was wondering if you could help me with something."
She smiled so smugly I wanted to punch her. "So, the great Rico wants my help."
I smiled back. "We are on the same side, aren't we?"
She hit a button which turned the office window opaque. She then walked over and locked the door. "What do you need?"
"I want to know where Gredler is staying so I can get a look at his normal defenses."
Morrigan walked over to her desk and took a disk out of a drawer. "Here is all that information and more."
I went to take it, but she set it down on the desk and kicked me so hard I flew back against the wall and fell to the ground. Before, I could blink, she was on top of me.
"You're smiling," she observed.
"That was quite a turn on."
She had me well pinned - and, no doubt about it, she was stronger than me.
"Rico, I think we got off on the wrong foot."
"I did shoot you when we first met, and now I killed some of your underlings... but that's just how I tell a girl I like her."
She kept an expression that was hard to read... or maybe one I just wasn't used to. "I don't think you take me seriously."
"Well, you do have me pinned - what kind of muscle-enhancements do you have?"
"MX-405, they give me eight times the strength of someone with the same muscle mass."
"So I'm less than eight-times as strong as a woman your size? I need a better exercise regime."
"Shut up." She kissed me, and... well... I kissed back. I don't know if this was some mind game trained to her by her "Lilith Organization," but she has successfully gotten my libido going; I'll give her that.
She stood up and took off her suit jacket and gun holster. She then unbuttoned and removed her blouse revealing a black bra and holding in a large chest. "There's no reason we can't be friends."
I can think of some. I looked to the door. "What about Verg?"
"Busy." She pulled off her skirt.
"Let's busy ourselves then." I shoved her back onto her desk. In one motion, I swept everything off the desk and onto the floor, my sweeping motion ending at the lamp at the edge of the desk which I grabbed, yanked it out of its socket, and threw it through the window, shattering it. I then pulled Morrigan by her panties so that she was standing and facing out the window while I grabbed the disk, my briefcase, and quickly unlocked and made my way out the door.
I wish I had a picture of the expression of the Nar Valdum police force staring at the nearly naked Morrigan standing in front of her window. Verg had come running to see what the commotion was about and was stunned speechless.
"Be careful," I told him as I punched him jokingly in the shoulder, "She's horny."
When I got to Diane, she had an expression of a mixture of shock and bemusement. "What was that about?"
"What's it look like?" I answered innocently as I glanced back to see Morrigan still standing there, trying to fathom what to do next, "Now let's get going; we have some field work to do."
Bush's Sinister Lunar Plan
Well, after all of these years, I think the real Bush Agenda is finally out in the open:
NASA briefed senior White House officials Wednesday on its plan to spend $100 billion and the next 12 years building the spacecraft and rockets it needs to put humans back on the Moon by 2018.
One hundred billion dollars is a lot of money. It's also the amount that's been discussed as the final price tag of cleaning up after Hurricane Katrina.
Could it be that these figures are actually for the same sinister project?
Not only does President George W. Bush hate black people, but he's going to launch them up to the moon. And with the help of the neoconservative movement, Karl Rove steered a city-swamping Class Five hurricane at New Orleans to set this evil plan into motion!
One of NASA's reasons for going back to the Moon is to demonstrate that astronauts can essentially "live off the land" by using lunar resources to produce potable water, fuel and other valuable commodities.
Live off the land? Other valuable commodities?
Repeat after me: cotton.
That's right. We're back to cotton and plantations and the fake slavery of the Antebellum South.
I think this false promise of vast wealth sounds a lot like those so-called oil revenues of Iraq that would pay for his Corporate Halliburton Welfare program going on over there in Fallujah and Najaf and Burkmenistan and Tadjikiville. Imperialism in its cruelest, most naked form!
It all sounds an awful lot like the "Forty acres and a mule" promise given by General Sherman to the freedmen and so viciously vetoed by President Johnson. Bush is going to settle that down payment on slavery reparations, but apparently he's only going to offer those forty acres with just a sixth of the gravity under them!
Those gigantic cruise ships he had Carnival Cruise Lines hand over? Just huge slave-ships to send the people back to Africa, where the top-secret launchpads for the spacecraft to the moon are hidden.
Bush must not be allowed to do this. He must be stopped.
I suggest that you write the NAACP, Operation Push, Al Sharpton's (not-for-profit) ministry, CAIR, the Urban League, the Congressional Black Caucus, and BET immediately to stop this sinister plot!
(Although helping Frank nuke the moon sooner rather than later will also foil Bush's plan. And he won't pocket as much of the funds as Sharpton or Jackson, because he doesn't have any bastard children through his secretarial pool to support. Yet.)
Frank Write Good
John Hawkins listed me as one of his choices for right-of-center writers (out of anyone in the whole wide world, apparently). I think I'm creative, but I never thought I was a very good writer (I know when to use there, their, and they're - I just don't care!).
Oh, and for those wondering, Rico is not based on me at all. I wrote the first part of that story on a whim, and now I'm stuck trying to make the reader sympathize with a psychopath (while remaining true to how I defined him). Actually, as a Christian, that’s a good mental exercise.
All Fear the Pledge
I'm not usually a conspiracy theorist, but can there be any doubt that Karl Rove held that judge in California’s family hostage to make him do this ruling against the Pledge of Allegiance? Could the timing be any better for Roberts and Bush? Now Bush can pick the meanest, nastiest, evilest conservative for the other vacancy as use this ruling as a hammer to get him or her in.
That wily Rove; I hope I never cross him.
The Red Crosshairs
Some people have asked me what I thought about second-class cartoonist, third-class columnist, and kingergarten-class moron Ted Rall's column telling people not to give money to the Red Cross because it's BIG GOVERNMENT'S responsibility, not private charity.
I suppose I should say something other than "Who spiked his sippy-cup with Idiot Juice this morning?"
Let's just take potshots at bits and pieces, and the rest falls apart:
Feel free to hold your nose, sniff Ted's rotten fish of a column trying to get readership through empty ranting, and make your own remarks.
I saw the season premiere of House last night (it was shown Tuesday, but I have Tivo). If you're not familiar with it, the basic premise is Dr. House and his team investigate hard to diagnose patients (it’s like a medical mystery). What makes the show so entertaining is that Dr. House might be the best TV character on any show right now. He's always vacillating between being a curmudgeon and a total pr**k and has some of the most hilarious lines in each episode. In the first episode I saw, it had this "I can't believe they said that on TV" line when they finally found out the woman they were diagnosing had rabies and House turned to his bitten underling Dr. Foreman (who is black) and told him, "Now go get your shots before I have to have another affirmative action hire."
Anyway, the season premiere involved a death row inmate (played by L.L. Cool J) mysteriously dying (like every patient House sees). I was afraid there was going to be some moral lecturing, but, as always, the show avoided that. Dr. Cameron - the woman underling to House and the most touchy-feely - did at one point say, "You know that the death penalty is a racist punishment given disproportionately to blacks." To which Dr. Foreman replied, "That just means they need to kill more white people."
So, it's a great show (one of Sarah and my favorites) if you haven't checked it out. It's not like Arrested Development (season premiere this coming Monday – you watch!) which is in risk of getting canceled, but I thought I should mention it.
September 14, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 29 - Strategery
* * * *
I was about to fall asleep when Dip alerted me that Vito was calling. "What's up, Vito."
"I got back a message that you will be personally contacted about the leaker and the change in plans."
"Yes, had that contact tonight."
"Oh... well, anything else?"
I thought for a moment. "I have a question, and I need it sent as high up the chain as possible."
"Just 'Why?' Can you pass on the question?"
I cut him off.
"Was that part of your game?" Dip asked.
"No, that's separate." So I was given him actual answers now; he earned it.
"Have you figured out your game yet?"
"Sorta. The game is to kill as many bad people as possible in as short a time as possible. Bonus points for surviving. Zero points for any civilians killed."
"How about negative points, Rico?"
"If they're smart, they'll get out of the way."
"How many points for Detective Diane Thompson?"
"None. Things are much bigger than her now. No reason to kill her unless she's actually trying to kill me. Hopefully, she's smarter than that."
"Hopefully? Would you rather Diane live?"
That was a slip. Didn't even notice it. She's interesting and a challenge; I'd rather keep her around. "My business, Dip."
"Another question: What defines a bad person?"
"Dip, I think you can take guesses at that."
"But there are no points for you killing yourself?"
"That better have been one of your jokes. By the way, I just remembered I have some data to send you and analyze. Might lead to a great move in our game if you can do something with it."
"I'll be happy to analyze it, but , might I make an observation on you and competitive games?"
"You're not very good at them. Do you know why?"
Yes I did. "I'm a creature of habit."
"Even when you try to be unpredictable, you do it in a predictable fashion. It's quite obvious from just the few games of chess we've played. Your predictability is usually not a problem in your job since you never have to kill the same person twice, but it will be a great weakness we're you to match against people who may know something about you."
"So I need my actions to be unpredictable in an unpredictable way?"
"That would be my suggestion."
"And how would I do that?"
"I do have a very good random number generator, Rico."
I grinned. I was in unknown territory and really had no idea what to do next. I might as well take the help of my computer algorithm friend. "Okay. Let's give the wheel a spin."
Hurricane Relief From the UN
Recently the UN offered to assist the US in dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Working through their Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, the UN has requested that all member nations donate whatever they can. Below is a partial list of current pledges:
Afghanistan - 34 tons of surplus building rubble.
Australia - 20 million cans of Foster's, each with a souvenier crocodile-tooth can opener that says "No Worries, Mate".
Belarus - 10 black-market suitcase nukes for beefing up security against looters.
Bolivia - 10,000 bushels of cocaine to keep the rescue workers alert.
Brazil - 1 million coupons good for a free bikini wax.
Canada - one slightly used hockey stick.
China - 1 million cookies with super extra happy cheerful lucky fun fortunes, like "You find dry soon".
Cuba - 1000 flotation devices
France - Haughty, derisive laughter.
Germany - A crate of emergency lederhosen.
Greece - 200 burly, hirsute homosexuals.
Guyana - 1000 barrels of grape Kool-Aid
Iran - 1500 "freedom fighters" with explosive "liberty belts".
Ireland - 750 belligerent drunks.
Jamaica - 50 bales of weed and 1000 Rasta hats.
Japan - This handy instructional shirt-folding video.
Kenya - 50 "Holy Crap. Lions! Tours" busses.
Saudi Arabia - 1 million sandbags (bags not included)
Somalia - Assorted warlords & gunmen.
Sweden - The Bikini Team.
UK - Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam, and spam.
Also, rumor has it that Kofi Annan himself will be pledging $10 billion dollars of embezzled funds to the Red Cross.
Or maybe he pledged to embezzle $10 billion from the Red Cross. Hard to tell, his English is only so-so.
Anyway, if you've heard of any other pledges, feel free to mention them in the comments.
If you'd like to MAKE a pledge, see the Red Cross.
Top Ten Differences of the Chief Justice from Regular Justices
John Roberts has been nominated for Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, but most people don't know what's different about the Chief Justice from the other Justices. The differences, luckily, are ten in number and ranked thusly:
TOP TEN DIFFERENCES OF THE CHIEF JUSTICE FROM REGULAR JUSTICES
10. Gets permanent 10% discount at participating Target stores.
9. Flowing Chief Justice robes allows for him to glide for short distances.
8. Has the power to dictate what Wednesday's special is at the Supreme Court cafeteria (must be chosen from a list of available entrees).
7. Given magical amulet to ward off mummies, making sure there is always at least one Justice in case of nationwide mummy attacks.
6. If he wants to, he can wear a hat (so far, no one has wanted to).
5. Must be able to accurately chuck a gavel at and strike a man-sized target at fifty paces.
4. Subjected to gamma rays to give him superpowers and/or cancer.
3. While expected to be stoic during Supreme Court hearings during the day, is also expected to extract vigilante justice at night.
2. Only Justice who can put a halt to proceedings because he needs to pee.
And the number one difference of the Chief Justice from regular Justices is...
Has to have actually read the Constitution.
Two By Two, Hands of Blue
I should mention that I just got all three of the Serenity comic books (the Inara, Kaylee, and Simon covers - each comic has three different character covers done by different artists). Three comics doesn't make a very long story, but it fills in the gap between the Firefly series and the soon to come Serenity movie, contains two charactes I was disappointed to hear weren't going to be in the movie (and I now know why), has a character you'd thought was dead, and a surprise announcement at the end. Plus, its got some great art work (not that I have a lot of comics to compare to) and the sort of dialogue you'd expect from Firefly. I had to spend a lot to find a copy of issue one, and I assume the others are now as scarce, but, I'm pretty sure there will be a reprinting and I recommend picking them up if you're a browncoat.
If people want, I could put up some scans later.
A Wedding Means We Get Free Stuff
As Laurence Simon alluded to, SarahK now has up gift registries on her blog for Bed, Bath, and Beyond, Target, and Amazon.com. The last one was added at my request since, between the two of us, we already have tons of practical stuff. She didn't let me register any videogames, though (and most of the DVDs were mutal choices).
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 28 - Seeing the Arrow Meant to Kill You
* * * *
As I headed to the little park area in downtown, I noted all the eyes in the crowd following me but pretending not to follow me. Basically, I was surrounded by murderous women. It was going to be hard to keep a straight face in my chat with Morrigan, but it was not going to be required for the entire conversation.
I casually hit a button at the keypad on my wrist.
"This is Robin," I heard Dip say through my earpiece, "I have now spotted the target heading in from the east."
He let me hear the rest of the radio chatter as the other snipers announced they had spotted me.
I headed into a small park area where Morrigan was seated on a bench. When she saw me, she smiled and walked over to greet me. "I've heard so much about you, Rico."
I shook her hand and squeezed hard to test her grip. She had more strength then her petite frame portrayed. "And I know nothing of you."
"Then, to start off, we're on the same side. I've always been with Corloni... including the Welsern job. Apparently there was a screw-up with two assassins put on the same job."
"I prefer the title hitman." Other people were in ear range, but I didn't care. I doubt she did either.
"Well, it's just lucky you didn't kill me that night."
It was lucky, because I'd rather deal with someone I've seen in action than an unknown. "Screw-ups tend to lead to needless killing. So, is your presence here yet another 'screw-up’?”
She smiled smugly. She thought she had all the cards. It was my understanding that pity would be the appropriate emotion now, but I kept my face stoic. "I'm back-up this time. With the leak of the hit, some extra precautions have been made. I'm going to help clear your path to the Senator on the day of the hit, plus I have one of my people in place to take out the Senator more subtly if you fail."
"Why hadn't I been informed of this?" I put some anger in my voice.
"You're being informed now."
"So who was the leak?" Like I didn't know.
"I'm not privvy to that information, but I've been assured it was taken care of."
"I have this feeling I'm being jerked around." I put my threatening face on. It works wonders. "I don't work well with others. I just get my job, and I do it - no interference."
She tried to match my expression. For a woman, she did well. "Your job is still to kill Senator Gredler while he's giving his speech."
I laughed. "That's half the job, sunshine."
She looked confused. "What's the other half?"
I put on my "mysterious" smile. "You've done this long enough; you should know."
"You have no other assignment," she asserted.
"So you say. Nothing personal, Morrigan - if that's your name - but I sorta feel like killing you just to express my anger at this whole situation... since the organization don't exactly have a complaint box, that is."
She was unfazed. I was acting as she expected me to act. Good. "Do you know how many snipers you have aimed on you right now?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Uh... five?"
She couldn’t hide that look of a predator gazing upon its prey. "Close."
I grinned and looked her right in the eyes. "How many snipers do you think you have trained on me?"
It took a couple moments for that to register. She stared at me uncertain for a few moments, and then spoke into a hidden radio receiver. "Nesters, report in."
I was able through my earpiece to hear them all respond, the last one being Robin who said, "I'm afraid to report that I'm actually dead and have been replaced with a computer simulation. The good news is that the computer algorithm doing the simulation is finding this exercise to be quite educational."
Her face was a mix of shock and anger.
"So which one of us was right about the number of snipers?"
She was about to respond, but I casually pulled out a remote with one big, red button. "I bet you want to know more about me, Hyena, and one thing you should know about me is I like big red buttons that do things." I pressed the button.
I was unable to hear anything or know the results, but I just had to assume for the moment all snipers were in the positions I saw them in earlier and the mechanics performed as advertised. I guess this was a bit like religious faith. I don't why I kept thinking in those terms; maybe it was from dealing with the Muslim terrorists and the Xian Bible thumpers.
"There," I announced, "now there are zero snipers aiming at me."
Morrigan's face went pale. "Nesters, report in again."
"It's not just that you placed snipers on me that's insulting," I told her, putting anger in my voice, "It's that you used rookie women from your little Lilith Organization. To me, that means you don't take me seriously."
"Those women were skilled at what they did!" Morrigan seethed, "You killed them for no reason and..."
"That Robin I slit the throat of was hardly qualified to massacre a playground full of schoolchildren. Maybe some of your girls are quite skilled - I have a certain respect for your abilities, at least - but you're not applying them properly. I'm sure you have some pretty young Corridian wooing the Senator as backup, but, while your average looking women wandering the downtown right now would work well for surveillance in many cases, they might as well be wearing signs saying, 'I'm a hitwoman!' when you're dealing with me. If you really wanted to have backup against me out of fear, maybe you should have been less sexist in your hiring practice and got some qualified men for the job. I hope you understand that I could easily slaughter the whole lot of you if I chose to, but I think six dead is enough of a lesson right now."
She so wanted to kill me right now, but I knew she was professional enough not to even try it (and smart enough to know she would fail). "Those were six good people..."
"Six murderous scum... or people aspiring to be murderous scum. Our kind are hardly people to lament. It's touching you care, though; that's why you can be a leader and I can't. Anyway, why don't you consider them six noble deaths for your education."
"We're on the same side, you idiot!" Morrigan shouted, completely loosing her cool which made her very unattractive.
"So perhaps you understand why what you did was such a mistake - that and how you underestimated me. You already have a scar for the first time that happened."
"I had the tissue repaired," she said, showing me the arm I shot years ago.
"I guess women are more concerned with aesthetics. Me, I keep my scars as reminders of past mistakes."
"Maybe you should be more worried about current mistakes."
I smiled. "I think we're done talking for tonight. Now, I want you and your girl scout troop to stay out of my way. If I fail, then you do your thing. Do we have an understanding?"
Morrigan had recovered now. She still had her future assignment (which she was ignorant enough to think I didn't know about) to comfort her. "Fine, Rico."
"And I'd clean up those six messes before the locals..." I pointed to me. "Or the feds..." I pointed to her. "Start asking questions. Also, next to the corpse of Robin is an expensive piece of machinery. If you could put it back into its carry case and return it to me tomorrow, I'd be very appreciative."
She hid her anger. "Sure, Rico. See you tomorrow at work."
"Later, sunshine." As I turned and left through the crowd, I tapped a number of women on the head saying, "You're one... you're one... and you're one." One was foolish enough to start reaching for her gun, but Morrigan yelled at her.
I think I played her well; I was pretty sure Morrigan thought I was upset because she was encroaching on my job. Plus, I reinforced the idea that I was an unhinged, murderous psychopath (when I am in no way unhinged).
Back at my hotel, I relaxed on my bed, content I now knew about everything I wanted to know about this mission. The only thing I didn't know was what I was going to do.
"Dip, good job, by the way."
"Thank you, Rico," Robin answered.
"Please go back to your original voice."
"Certainly, Rico. I have a question."
"Is Morrigan really here to help you? If so, why antagonize her?"
"To answer the second, I wanted her to know how outclassed she is and thus make her consider bringing in reinforcements."
"Against you? I would think you would want her to underestimate you and have less people to stand in your way."
"That would consider what my goals are, Dip."
"What are your goals?"
I'm not sure. "Let's go back to your first question. You know what the second half of a job is?"
"Yes, you've told me numerous times."
"While I'm sure Morrigan is here to be backup if I fail in killing Senator Gredler, her main task is to prevent me from completing the second half of my job."
"That's very bad, Rico."
I was silent for a moment, but I wasn't going to let myself get upset. "I have a riddle for you, Dip."
"I love riddles. They help me look at concepts from different perspectives and help my learning significantly."
"Well, Dip, I have a job I am not supposed to complete. If something is in the imitation of another thing, but does not produce the same output, i.e., this job I'm not supposed to complete, what's the best word to describe that?"
Dip was quiet for little while. "I think the word 'game' would best fit."
"Do I like games, Dip?"
"In my experience, you do not. You once tried to overturn a virtual chessboard."
"But maybe we can make this a game I like."
I also picked the "Mazel Tov" option
How not to sign an online gift registry card:
This has been another crappy wedding present from your friend, Laurence Simon... NOW GO TO BED (BATH AND BEYOND)!
I plan on receiving my thank-you beating in person in December, unless I go to another game in the Crawford Boxes at Minutemaid Park before the season ends. Might as well give Disastros relief pitcher Chad Qualls another chance to have a homerun launched off of him heading straight for my groin.
Or, from the IM conversation last night:
ME: Hit by ball.
And, no, the fateful event did not appear on the mlb.com archived video. I think it was too grisly for even them to show.
September 13, 2005
Free Ice Cream Delay
Sorry, but the next part to Superego will have to wait until tomorrow morning. Some things came up, and I couldn't rush this part because it's important to the story (and, with how I'm doing it, the first draft is the final draft).
See you tomorrow, sportsfans.
Hey there fellow Rastafarians! The Carnival of Comedy is coming up this Thursday, Sept 15th! No, really, it is. I'm not kidding. It will be at Either, Orr.
Want to host?
Send your incoherant rambling feeble pleas regarding hosting the Carnival of Comedy to flyingspacemonkey-at-gmail-dot-com. (substitute the appropriate nonsense, y'know the 'at' and the 'dot') Subject: Carnival of Comedy Hosting
Still have questions?
In My World: Enough with the Questions
"Have we instructed the rescuers to not help black people?" President Bush asked an aide, "I don't want black people helped while I'm president. This administration hates black people." He saw Condoleezza Rice enter the room. "Condi! I need you to investigate my administration and root out any black people who may be hiding in it."
"Were you listening to left-wing nuts and got confused about your actual positions on issues again?" Condi asked accusingly.
Bush looked down at his feet. "Maybe."
"Well, quit it. Now leave disaster relief to... uh... whoever's job that is. You need to focus on Robert's confirmation hearing."
* * * *
In the Senate chambers, the Democrats were throwing questions to John Roberts at a rapid pace.
"How many years back do you want to turn the clock on civil rights?"
"There's always this talk about women's abortion rights; what about men's abortion rights?"
"How will you use the Court to stop hurricanes?"
"Why do you hate black people?"
"Where's my drink? I ordered it 20 minutes ago!" Ted Kennedy finally said.
"These are all very idiotic questions," Roberts answered, "and I'll need time to properly dismiss each one."
"Bush to the rescue!" Bush shouted out as he entered the room.
"Actually, I think I'm handling this..."
"Think nothing of it," Bush told Roberts. He turned to the Senators. "Now, I want you to know that John Roberts is a great guy. There's no reason to hit him with questions about affirmative action, abortion, and white supremacy. Instead, you should look at his character and confirm him now for... uh..." Bush looked to Roberts. "What did I nominate you for again?"
"You sure it's not clerk for the Chief Justice?"
"No, the Chief Justice."
Bush shook his head. "When did I make that decision? I must have fell off the wagon." He looked to the Senators. "So, he'll make a great Chief Justice... or, at least, a very boring and uninteresting one. So, go ahead and confirm." Bush then walked forward and punched Senator Biden in the face. "That's for interrupting me!"
"I didn't interrupt you!"
"Yeah, but you looked like you wanted to!" Bush yelled and held up his fist. "I'm just laying down the law." He then turned to Kennedy. "Do you know you're not wearing pants?"
"Yes, and I don't care."
"Eww, Senators," Bush uttered and shivered as he left the room.
"So, anymore questions?" Roberts asked.
"This is getting boring," Senator Specter said, "Anyone want to head to the Mall and play frisbee?"
"Will there be booze?" Kennedy asked.
Roberts picked up a cooler and placed it on his table. "I brought some cold beers for just such an occasion."
"I've changed my mind about Roberts," Kennedy declared, "He seems like a great guy. Let's confirm him and go play frisbee and drink beers!"
Lots of cheers of agreement echoed throughout the Senate chambers.
"Soon I'll be Chief Justice," Roberts muttered to himself, "and then I'll use my powers for the cause of darkness and evil to the glee of my dark lord... and none shall stop me."
"Did you say something?" Kennedy asked.
Brief update. Life has been busy with lots of interesting challenges.
1. No baby yet. On Friday, we thought it was The Time, when suddenly all of her contractions stopped. This was good since we had a surprise baby shower on Saturday and it was 1 am and didn't feel like staying up even later.
2. Computer at home is broken. I was going to have a fundraiser at my site, then realized that Katrina charities could probably use the money even more. Besides, it wouldn't kill me to spend more time with my family. Weird, my computer had more viruses than a MoveOn rally. So, very little writing can get done since...
3. Employer has cracked down on internet usage. Everything is now monitored.
Combine that with the fact that this is the busiest time of year at work (this is the equivalent of our Christmas Season) and you have for very little RWD enjoyment.
I'll be back full time the week before Halloween.
In the meantime - amuse yourselves with this ball of string.
Faxes? We don't need no stinkin' faxes!
Faxes for Republican Talking Points? Feh. The World Zionist Conspiracy converted to email years ago. Made it much easier to understand my marching orders since they gave up the cheap numeric crap, and nobody likes that cheap crinkly paper faxes use.
I'm so glad we've gone alpha in our campaign to take over the world, because getting a bunch of numbers and having to look them up in a codebook every five minutes was a total pain in the tuchus.
Here's a few I used to get every now and then:
007 = new woody allen movie coming out.
Now we get everything in plain English. Often mistranslated from Hebrew. By Indians in outsourced firms.
What the heck does "Floor ride water low" mean, anyway? Am I supposed to check on the mind-control agents we add into the local supply under the guise of fluoridation? Or is this some sort of new carnival ride I'm supposed to sell to roaming carnivals that will end up killing a bunch of evangelical rednecks?
(If you're also a member of the WZC, feel free to post the codes that our masters were sending you in the comments.)
First Gutfeld was a featured blog post on the Huffington Post, now even Arianna mentions his post as one to read. She also mentions David Rees's response to Gutfeld most recent post (you'll have to have read this one first to get all the jokes in Rees's), and I cringed in preparation for liberal's attempt tit for tat humor - but it ended up being pretty good (in a few parts, ideology trumps humor, but the same could be said for Gutfeld's). Funny enough, the concerts each one mentions were the two concerts Sarah and I went to this year (guess which one I liked more). At neither was I beaten up by a group of pissed-off Cubans.
September 12, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 27 - A View to a Kill
* * * *
I left quite early for the meeting with Morrigan. I found the tallest building near the meeting point, and quietly made my way to the top. Then I sat in the shadows, put on some gloves (yeah, why worry about fingerprints when you're dropping DNA everywhere; I guess I'm just old-fashioned), and waited.
Right now, I was following instincts - conclusions I couldn't quite logically spell out but I was pretty sure of. I guess that had to be a bit like religious faith, but I'm never too surprised when my instincts are wrong.
They weren't this time.
A very ordinary young woman appeared on the rooftop - her ordinariness clashing with the fact that she was on a rooftop. She sat down, took some odd items out of her purse, and assembled a sniper rifle. Then she aimed it down at the crowd below and looked through the scope. Finally, she took out a radio and said, "Hyena, this is Robin. I'm in position."
Stealth isn't my specialty, but I was easily able to sneak right up behind "Robin" as she scanned the crowd below.
I set my briefcase down beside her. "Nice view."
She shrieked a little as she spun around. I then smacked her right in the face - hard enough to stun her but not knock her out. I then pulled out a gun and placed it against her head. "Do you know who I am?"
She was like a scared little rabbit - probably pretty new to this whole hired killer thing. "Ri... Rico?"
"Correct. And how dangerous am I?"
"Smart girl." I put away my gun and then put a knee down on her head as I picked up the rifle. "I'm sure you have a gun and a knife on you - if you don't, you're an idiot - but I don't feel like wasting time trying to pat you down and find them. Just know that if you had a gun pointed right at my back, I could still draw, turn around, and kill you before you could pull the trigger. Do we have an understanding?"
"We're on the same side, you know," she gasped desperately.
"Then I guess you won't mind me borrowing your rifle." I scanned the other rooftops and higher windows of the surrounding buildings. What I found was interesting, but the numbers were the concern right now. "How many other snipers are there? Keep in mind that I've already spotted some and that lying is a sin... and I'm very vengeful against sinners."
"Five," came a voice from under my knee. I only saw four. So, I scanned some more and eventually found the last sniper. I could see well enough through the scope to tell the five other were three humans and two aliens... all female.
"I knew Morrigan wasn't the type of person to work alone, but what's up with you all being women? Are the criminal syndicates now doing affirmative action?"
"I'm part of the Lilith Organization."
"They exclusively train women for different tasks for the Corloni syndicate... I mean things like assassination and spying."
I opened my briefcase while keeping Robin pinned down. "Didn’t know Corloni was that innovative. So, I guess they’re helping wayward women do something useful. If I had to choose between sniper and prostitute, I'd do the same as you. They pay well?"
"So, how many kills you got?"
"Three," she said in a strained voice as she tried to turn her head against my knee.
I put together a new stand for the sniper rifle and placed it on it. "Confirmed?"
She was silent.
She was about as green as you get (and, unfortunately for her, would not eventually be getting the gold watch). "So you fired in the direction of three people along with others, and those people ended up dead, I gather. I couldn't stand that, personally. I need to know I killed someone. Anyway, I'm guessing you're too new to this to know about the Welsern incident?"
"I don't know about that one other than that you were there."
I made sure the stand held the rifle firmly. "I guess I'll have to ask 'Hyena' about that in a few minutes."
"There's no reason for this," she pleaded, "We're on the same side."
"I know; you keep saying that. And, since we're all friends, I think it's time for a little joke on Morrigan." I turned on my communicator. "Dip, can you help me kill some people."
Robin whimpered more at the word "kill." This was going to be like offing a puppy.
I hate puppies.
"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to do that, Rico."
I hate Asimov. "Fine, I'll do things myself. I have a simpler task for you." I switched the communicator so Dip could hear what I heard. "Robin, say something."
"Say, 'A big, mean man has a knee on my head,' and say it calmly or I'll stab you."
"A big, mean man has a knee on my head."
"Hear that, Dip?" I put a new transmitter into the interface on Robin's radio. "I need you to imitate that voice."
"Right. You're a sniper who answers to 'Robin' and is supposed to be keeping an eye out for me. If you're called for, answer best you can and in that voice."
"Will do, Rico," said Dip in Robin's voice.
"What are you doing?" the actual Robin asked.
I started finding the other snipers again, aligning the crosshairs on them, and programming the rifle base as I did it. "Quiet for a sec; I need to concentrate." After another minute, I was done. I then looked to Robin (well, my knee). "Like I said, I'm playing a joke on Morrigan. It's gonna be hilarious."
"Robin, you have the best view," said Morrigan over the radio, "Do you see the target, yet?"
"Negative," Dip answered in Robin's voice.
"So what are you going to do to me?" asked Robin in her own voice but shakier.
I chuckled. "You had to ask that."
She started to sob uncontrollably. It was almost convincing.
"You don't know much about me do you? All crying does is further annoy me."
She stopped the sobbing. "Come on, Rico, you have a woman at your mercy and..."
I checked my watch. It looked like I was going to be fashionably late as it was. "I really don't have time to watch while you go through the entire 'Wily Female Tricks' handbook, so let's end this here."
"We're both Corloni!" she screamed, "You have nothing to gain from killing me!"
I pulled out a knife. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one."
He Said/She Said
A set of bits didn't make it into IMAudiO this week as SarahK and I were late sending in this new content. They're based off of mutal frustration of SarahK trying to coach me on my lines (there should definitely be less lines for me in the future). Scott has now made them available separately:
(should be listened to in that order)
Isn't it great that we can get angry with each other and turn it into a humor sketch?
Showing the bodies
It looks like CNN was successful in convincing the government that it's okay for cameramen and reporters to swarm the corpse-recovery effort going on in New Orleans and other Katrina-stricken towns.
With this as precedent, I guess it would be okay for me to head out to Martha's Vineyard and stalk veteran journalist Walter Cronkite and follow him around until he shuffles off this mortal coil we call life.
You know the man goes sailing almost constantly, right? Despite being shakier than Kirk Douglas behind the wheel of his 2005 Crashmobile, the man's at the tiller and reading the waves like an upside-down teleprompter.
Well, it's only a matter of time before the old coot makes a mistake and falls overboard. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but I'll guarantee you that he's going to end up on Poseidon's Shortlist soon enough.
Life jacket? HAH! When has a news anchor ever worn orange in the field?
With a "That's the way it is" he sinks below the surface and drowns. He bloats, surfaces, and seagulls pick out his eyeballs and tear meat from his carcass.
Days later, his ravaged corpse washes ashore at the Kennedy Compound.
And I'm there. Filming every moment of it. Filling chip after chip and loading it to my website while I wait for waltercronkitecorpse.com to propagate through DNS.
But, hey, CNN thinks that's okay. Because the voyeuristic gathering of video from scenes of horrific tragedy without regard to how it might shock the audience or derange the families of the dead is perfectly fine.
The Founding Fathers thought of that when they crafted the First Amendment, you know. How else would Poor Richard's Almanac gotten exclusive wood-carvings of Crispus Attucks' shot-out face from the Boston Massacre otherwise?
Oh, and isn't there video from the shuttle, too? I mean, are we to believe that NASA can make Tang and Velcro, but can't make a camera that runs despite horrific temperatures and G-forces? Then what do they have mounted on Pioneer and the Voyagers... Kodak Brownies? Ektras? Polaroids that a robot-arm has to shake a few times to get them to develop evenly?
Even Miles O'Brien would object to that one, seeing as how he was buddy-buddy with most of those seven astronauts. But being a journalist, you have to be objective and distance yourself from the personal side of the story, and the show must go on (in between the commercials).
Let's check the score, shall we?
Hundreds of ordinary people's corpses left to rot in attics, porches, and apartments - okay.
And let's go back a few weeks... what if singer Mark Cohn hadn't have had his skull creased by the bullet in Denver during that carjacking attempt? What if, instead, he'd have gotten his brains blown out through his face, all over the inside of the windshield?
Well, besides greatly reducing the chop-value of his car, what would a network like ABC have done with that video? Shown it?
Yeah, with Cohn's wife Elizabeth Vargas acting as a fill-in anchor now and then to take the place of Peter Jennings, that would have flown over nicely. Might as well size the anchor chair for Charlie Gibson's ass while Elizabeth is fitted with a vest that straps in the back.
Never mind those guys smashing up jewelry stores and robbing them, there's a worse breed looter prowling the streets of New Orleans. It's called a Newslooter, and it's there to steal the most valuable and precious thing in that swamped city: dignity.
Republican Talking-Points FAQ
Right-wing bloggers are always being accused of just parroting Republican talking points and being plants of Karl Rove. This bring up lots of questions about how do we get those talking points and how does someone become a Karl Rove plant. To help, I've come up with this helpful FAQ to answer the questions I know the answers to.
REPUBLICAN TALKING POINTS FAQ
Q. Does IMAO receive Republican talking points?
Q. Are these the same talking points all other Republican shills receive?
Q. Why are they sent by fax?
Q. How many other right-wing blogs out there receive talking points?
Q. How does a blogger get to receive talking points?
Q. Do you share the money Rove pays you with the other IMAO bloggers?
Q. What happens if you deviate too much from the talking points?
Q. Are there Republican talking points for podcasters?
Q. Can I see a talking points memo?
Hope that answered all your questions on Republican talking points. If not, then I blame the incompetence of Mayor Ray Nagin (wink wink).
You Want the Funny; We Give You the Funny
Have you downloaded the latest IMAudiO? It's super-funny, and make sure to pass it on (or the clips) to everyone who should know about it. And, with the addition of Homocon, our cast is now 3% gayer (don't ask).
Unfortunately, the stress of putting eight (nine?) people spread across the country together in one audio is show is getting to be too much (despite the simulated back and forth banter, you could put all of us IMAO talent in one room and none of us would recognize each other). Scott is getting burned out as this is taking his whole weekend to put together, and, while that doesn't affect the rest of us and is easy to dismiss, Scott might actually die from the stress if he continued at this pace. That would leave the rest of us to edit it, and then IMAudiO would sound like... well... a podcast (have you listened to the other stuff out there?). So, IMAudiO production will be slowed until we have a business plan (including promotion) so we know we're moving towards getting at least some compensation for our time and effort.
Anyway, I have a great post ready for today, and, for those who've been reading my impromptu story Superego, this is the week it really starts to get interesting (I feel like a season of 24 where I'm packing as many twists into one story as possible). Thanks to everyone who has been enjoying it so far; that makes me feel good.
Be honorable, ronin.
The death toll is horrendous, but at 197 so far for New Orleans, it's certainly not the 10,000 the liberals seemed to be hoping for. Is the 197 a premlinary number and expected to rise when they do get an actual count, though?
I've been praying my heart out on this one; hopefully there will be a lot more reuniting of loved ones in the end than I dare hoped. It's weird to see "only" 426 dead for a disaster in America and feel relieved.
Frank J. and IMAO: Time Travelers!
Hello and welcome to all Instapundit readers!
New IMAudiO (or "IMAO Podcast" for those with iPods) is now available. In this week's episode:
Download teasers for this week's IMAudiO:
If you want to hear the whole thing, download the MP3:
September 11, 2005
The Battle Isn't Over
Nothing poignant to say today - especially in light of the tragedy we're dealing with right now. My brother is out there fighting, and we're here trying to remind people so that more deaths aren't to come - and maybe help work towards the end the tragedy of radical Islam that gets more victims each day.
Should not that today is the birthday of the king of photoshopping, Cadet Happy. Don't think one could have a worse birthday... other than the ephemeral February 29th.
God, please bless and keep our troops safe, and help those in New Orleans and their families. And most of all, give us long memories.
Unlike probably every other Republican or conservative to ever live, I am really glad the body count of victims in NOLA is turning out to be lower than expected. [Note to self: find news story to back this up, the fatality numbers, not the sweeping generalization of rascally racist Republicans]
Maybe the extra body bags can be used for sack races to cheer people up, if not being dead doesn't help.
September 10, 2005
Fun Facts About Indiana: The Director's Cut
The version on the IMAO podcast (#14) 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 racing gear because we're headed to Indiana, so let's get started...
Indiana became the 19th state on December 11th, 1816. It's residents are nicknamed "Hoosiers", which is a Chippewa Indian word meaning "What the hell does that word mean?"
The city of Gary, Indiana was named after Gary Coleman, and is populated entirely by black midgets.
Singer Michael Jackson was born in Gary, Indiana, but was eventually exiled from the city for being too tall and too white.
The state bird of Indiana is Larry
Natives of Indiana are the only people in the US who can say "French Lick" or "Ball State" without giggling.
Beaver City, however, makes EVERYONE snicker.
Actor James Dean was born in Marion, Indiana, but soon left the state, as all cool things do.
Indiana is SO boring that people will actually PAY MONEY to watch other people drive around in circles. No wonder James Dean left.
Crazed socialist nutjob and vocal World War I protestor Eugene V. Debs was born in Terre Haute, Indiana. He was sorta like an early version of Jane Fonda, except less skanky.
The state of Indiana was once 80% forest, but over the years has lost 3/4 of its trees to hordes of plundering Amish furniture-makers.
Indiana is home to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, which - with relative safety - combines public drunkenness and reckless driving.
25% of people in Indiana are of German extraction, leading to occasional blitzkriegs into Ohio and Illinois.
Indiana has more covered bridges than any other state, mostly so that the bridges don't go around flaunting their sexuality and frightening the Amish.
Some of the more rural parts of Indiana only accept farm animals as currency. However, a lot of the small-town general stores DO take MasterCow.
Although people in northern Indiana must contend with long, harsh winters, at least they're safe from the cruel assault of bluegrass festivals that plague the southern part of the state.
The state flag of Indiana consists of a solid blue background with a flaming torch surrounded by 19 stars. This celebrates the state's historical tradition of burning Indian villages to steal land for white people.
The state flower of Indiana is the peony which - being large, pink, round, and smelly - perfectly represents the people of the state.
The city of Santa Claus, Indiana has a 20-foot statute of the jolly old elf at the outskirts of the town, which is usually covered in graffiti by gangs from the nearby cities of Grinch and Scrooge.
Indiana has only 40 miles of shoreline along Lake Michigan, most of which is covered by the corpes of people who hired non-union labor which wash in from Chicago.
The highest point in Indiana is only 1200 feet above sea level. Geographically speaking, if Indiana were a woman, it'd be Olive Oyl.
Traditionally, Jewish people in Indiana wear yarmulkes made out of used Indy Car tires.
Well... they WOULD... if there were actually any Jews in Indiana.
Indiana's state tourism motto is "Hope you brought something to do."
The city of Peru, Indiana was known as the "Circus Capital of America" until 1952 when it was wiped out by an epidemic of Mad Clown Disease.
South Bend, Indiana is home to Notre Dame College. Their nickname - The Fighting Irish - is considered offensive by some, but it's still better than previous nicknames such as the Brawling Bog-Trotters and the Surly Spud-Munchers.
Stainless steel was invented in Kokomo, Indiana by Elwood Haynes in a desperate bid to get his wife to stop naggging him to "polish the damn silverware!".
Singers Axl Rose and John Cougar Mellencamp are both natives of Indiana. In a knife fight between Rose and Mellencamp, bet on the guy with the most tattoos.
That wraps up the Indiana edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week I'll be making three solid minutes of corn jokes because we're headed to Iowa.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put fifty bucks on Axl Rose.
[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]
September 09, 2005
Have you ever travelled to a foreign country and tried to ask where the bathroom was, only to discover that - in the native monkey-jabber - the words you used actually meant something entirely different? Like you just asked the guy if you could lick his elbow, and then he punches you right in the face and you have to get nine stitches?
I can't be the only one that's happened to.
Anyway, I know that if you go travelling, you'll want to keep in touch with the blog world, so you'll be tempted to mention to a native that you're going to check Instapundit. However, I must warn you that doing so may be fraught with danger. So in an effort to prevent future international incidents, I thought I'd check on what "Instapundit" meant in various foreign languages. Before you open your mouth in some filthy, non-American cesspool of a country, check the list:
Arabic - Those camels are sexually desirable.
Chinese - I enjoy shoving rice up my nose.
Korean - Your hair is quite poofy.
Zulu - I offer three plump goats for your daughter.
Eskimo - My club is too small to kill that baby seal.
Klingon - I have dishonored your family by mating with your mother, who is quite ugly.
Hebrew - Is that shake made with kosher puppies?
Democrat - My taxes are too low. Please raise them with great haste.
Irish - Let's drink and fight!
Kurdish - I miss Saddam.
Portuguese - Ricky Martin! Mmmm... FOXY!
Esperanto - I think we should resort to cannibalism.
Icelandic - With hindsight, I regret licking this flagpole.
Swedish - Are those real?
Thai - Enter my car and I will give you candy.
Italian - Your sister's back hair is quite fetching.
Ukranian - $40 million is too much for such a small nuclear device. You must do better, or I will take my business to Belarus.
Scottish - Is that a bagpipe in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
Canadian - Instapundit, eh?
I also tried it in French, but - like every other word I tried - it kept coming back as "we surrender". I think the Google Translator might be broken.
If I missed any important languages, feel free to leave your translations in the comm
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 26 - Spiteful
* * * *
When I first met her, she was just some bimbo red-head barely fit into a slinky green dress at a formal party. She succeeded in grabbing my attention for a moment, but I was focused on the man she was talking to, my target. Completely distracted by the woman, he wouldn't even see me coming.
Then the slut flowered into a thing of beauty. In one motion she kicked the man to the floor as she ripped open the side of her dress to pull out a large blaster strapped to her leg. And, in one shot, their now was a headless corpse lying on the ground.
It was so inelegant, yet so dazzling. Everyone was shocked; I was even taken back for a second. She had the drop on the man's bodyguard (or former bodyguards at that point) and ripped them to pieces with her blaster. With the speed and power she knocked others out of the way as she made her escape, it was obvious she had implants (and I don't mean her chest... though those were obvious too). Soon, everyone had guns drawn and were chasing her, including me (why should I be left out?). Any that got close were killed, but then I got a clear shot of her as she turned down a hallway.
She looked at me, knowing she couldn't turn and fire back at me in time - you should have seen the frustration in her face. She must have planned this massacre, but there was no way she would have thought someone of my caliber was there.
But I only chased her down for sport, and killing her for killing my target before I could seemed spiteful... and I am not a spiteful man. Still, I couldn't not shoot at her, and I couldn't purposely miss. So I winged her on her left arm (she was right-handed), burning her a nice scar before she leapt out a window.
The rest of her escape must have been a breeze, because apparently everyone outside guarding the vehicles were already dead.
I don't know who hired her; the target was some idiot who managed to gain about everyone's ire. She could have been Randatti or another group, or she could have been another Corloni hire for the same job (it's a big criminal syndicate; sometimes there are mix ups like that). I never found out. I reported what happened, and got paid at least for the effort.
I wonder if she knew she was only alive because I let her live? I certainly wasn't going to volunteer that.
Well, Diane, Morrigan, Verg (who seemed to have no idea he was among hitpersons), and I spent the day trying to profile me, figure out what I would do to try and escape (got some good ideas from that part), and also figured where I might go to scope out my hit and thus would be good places to look for a suspicious person like me.
When we were done for the day, Morrigan and I set a meeting point in downtown where there would be lots of people (which I already knew would not stop her from opening fire on me - same as it wouldn't stop me from opening fire on her). Then I headed back to police HQ with Diane to wrap up and waited for the inevitable question.
"So what's it with you and Morrigan?" she asked while pretending to be looking over a file on screen.
She was jealous! This was fun! "The feds came by our planet to scope it out a while back. She was one of them, and as stuck up and patronizing as you would expect. Couldn't wait to be rid of them, though I'm sure they thought we were enamored by the presence of civilization." I then smiled a little. "We didn't do anything Jesus would disapprove of, if that was what you were wondering."
"No, I just..."
"I'm still free if you and me want to go back to Rikar and have a bunch of kids."
"I'll pass." She was irritated. The big bad detective didn't like kidding, I guess.
When I got back to my hotel room, I made a quick check if Dip had heard from Vito (nope), and prepared for meeting Morrigan - both mentally and weapon-wise. In other situations, I'd be interested to talk to her and learn all about her, but now I just hoped to find a way to deal with her quickly - whomever she worked for.
Then again, I was starting to wonder if she had some answers to some questions I didn't even know to ask. If history was an indicator, this was only going to get more complicated.
Well, I haven’t met a problem yet I couldn’t just shoot my way out.
Oh wonderful. Now Progressives want to kill me.
According to Charles Krauthammer:
In less enlightened times there was no catastrophe independent of human agency. When the plague or some other natural disaster struck, witches were burned, Jews were massacred and all felt better (except the witches and Jews).
I do believe the Simon Household will be sleeping with guns under pillows for the next few weeks.
Wasn't That a Job For Aquaman?
Some have been asking where have I been during the whole New Orleans crisis. With all the water and flooding, people seem to think that it just might have been a job for Aquaman.
Couple things here. First off, when the problem first hit, it was a hurricane. That involves not just water but also lots of wind, and I'm Aquaman - not Wind-and-Water Man. Hurricanes just aren't my thing.
Second, I like swimming in water, so preventing flooding isn't exactly to my interest. I'm not some construction expert; I can reinforce a levee.
Thirdly, the water in New Orleans got quite dirty, and it would just not be sanitary for me to swim in it.
Finally, as you may have noticed from my Aryan good looks, I, like the Bush administration, don't particularly care for black people. In fact, my arch-nemesis is Black Manta. You see, I fight black people; I don't save them.
Anyway, wasn't this more of an ecological disaster? Maybe people should have called on Green Lantern.
Ha! I made a funny! I have to go tell my fish friends that one...
There Is a Troop Excess Problem in Iraq
Many have said we haven't had enough troops in Iraq, but I have anecdotal evidence - the best kind of evidence - that there are too many troops. I got a call from my brother, Joe foo' the Marine, this morning, and currently all he's doing in Iraq is hanging outside of Fallujah watching DVDs. Every once in a while, he works on his tank, but he hasn't even used it in weeks. He simply has nothing to do. This obviously means there are far too many troops in Iraq if my brother has so little to do.
BTW, keep him in your prayers as he has 24 more days to go. He'll have plenty to do when he gets back to the states since he's my best man and needs to write a good speech for the wedding... and it better be good! :: shakes fist ::
Nobody Likes Us!
According to SiteMeter, we've had zero vistors last hour. The most likely explanation is our site or their had an error, but I blame cats!
Is anyone reading this?
UPDATE: Apparently it was a SiteMeter error, as it now shows 450 for the hour that was said to have zero visitors.
Since it's Friday, I thought I'd spread the joy of humor-free, apolitical Friday Catblogging to IMAO.
Today, it's the late Edloe staring at a jar of gefilte fish:
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 Edloe is Democratic Party Chairman Howard Dean accusing President Bush of being a racist and the jar of gefilte fish is the National Baptist Convention.
A lot of folks have been asking me what I think about all the reports of Arafat dying from AIDS, liver failure, a massive stroke, or being poisoned by the JOOOOOOOOOOOOS.
I don't care how he died. I'm just glad he's dead.
September 08, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 25 - A Small Universe
* * * *
"Rico, I now have a plan that has a 62% chance of success, but I would require you to first..."
"Do you believe in God, Dip?"
"I lack the data to make a determination on that... or even assign it a probability."
"You think God would help me if I prayed to Him... assuming He exists?"
"No. I believe you are evil, and most portrayals of God does not have him helping the evil... unless you repent your evil ways. That would have you first admitting to them, Rico."
"Shouldn't we discuss the escape plan, Rico?"
"Not right now. I'm going to read. I'll talk to you later."
"I think you should sleep, Rico."
"I haven't heard back from Vito, by the way."
I was curious what message he'd have to relay to me... if any.
I asked Diane if I could keep the Bible. She seemed delighted at the prospect, and then wrote down some verses for me to read. I took that paper, but I only wanted the book for something to distract me for the night. I just didn't want to think about this job anymore.
When I got back to my room, I tossed the piece of paper aside and scanned through the Old Testament. God was a vengeful old bastard before he settled down and had a kid. Being God would be a fun job, but I don't think I could come up with rules to hand down from a mountain.
The New Testament is all about love (which I've never been sure is really a distinct emotion), but Hell turns up plenty. Out of curiosity, I looked up what I have to do to gain salvation. Technically, I'm not exempt even with all my killing. In reality, I'm screwed. Part of salvation involves water, and that's not a problem. Also, one has to sin no more, and I can do that (other than killing and the lying that sometimes leads up to the killing, I'm pretty much free of vice). There are two parts to salvation, though, which I am just incapable of. One is believing. The other is repenting.
I can't believe this crap. It's all unprovable, so how can I just suddenly say I believe? People call that faith, and I just don't know what that is. It's seems more like delusion. I may be a psychopath, but I'm not delusional. I'm firmly grounded in reality.
And, because I'm a psychopath, I can't actually "repent" for my sins because I don't feel any guilt. I could ask for forgiveness, but that would just be words. I've slaughtered the innocent, and it means nothing to me. That's just who I am. If this Christianity stuff is right, then God made me to go to Hell.
And it seemed like the universe was bent on speeding me there.
Well, maybe Satan would help me, but I don't think I could ever trust the guy.
I got a little sleep, but I was up really early so I could use the hotel weight room when pretty much no one else was there. I worked so hard, I nearly hurt myself. Maybe I was trying to hurt myself. I guess that's my way of running. But I'm not going anywhere. I have no where to go.
I showered, got dressed, and went to meet Diane.
"Are you all right, Rico?" She really was concerned about me. That was funny.
I got in the passenger seat and handed back her Bible - the "Holy" one. "Thanks for lending this to me."
"It's yours, Rico." She started taking the vehicle into the air.
"Thanks, but I don't think Christianity is for me."
"Still, you can have it if you ever need it."
I tried to put the book in an inner coat pocket, but it was big and I accidentally knocked something out. A bottle of pills rolled off my seat and rattled to the ground.
"What are those?"
"It's personal," I answered as I quickly snatched them up. I wonder how much she saw? It was a full bottle of pills, but the label was so old and worn that the only think left visible was the warning, "May Cause Nausea." I don't know why I still keep them with me; I don't want nausea.
Diane gave me an odd look, and I expected a question. None came though. That was good because I had plenty of questions for myself.
Why am I still doing this?
If Gredler is with Randatti, it's possible the feds charged with protecting Gredler we were going to meet were Randatti thugs themselves. It was not a leap to think that Randatti had a file on me, and these people might recognize me on sight.
Then again, maybe a nice firefight was what I wanted. If one broke out, it would be interesting to see what side Diane chose.
We landed on top of a building that gave a great sniper's view of the stadium where Gredler would speak on sentient diversity. The feds weren't there yet.
"I might head back to Rikar early," I blurted out.
"All of this... with the criminal syndicates and everything... I think it's just too much for me. I don't know what I'm trying to get out of this. You said yourself you'd think the whole diversity conference is bull anyway."
"I don't think it will achieve anything, but I'd rather you'd stay." Diane put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm learning from you too, Rico."
I smiled weakly. The feds then landed and I mentally prepared myself for a shootout. A human female and some grayish alien (male?) approached us, both wearing black suits. At first I was trying to recognize the type of alien, but then the female caught my eye. She looked young for a fed. She had red hair, a killer figure, and...
I knew her.
Usually, she'd be the type of woman you'd want to remember you, but I was hoping otherwise. Little chance of that, though; I did wing her when we first met. Women remember that sort of thing.
There was a short look of surprise when she saw me, but she very quickly stifled it.
"I'm Agent Verg," the gray alien said, "and this is Agent Dawson."
"Detective Thompson," Diane said, shaking both their hands.
"Rico," I said, first shaking Verg's hand. I figured I'd pretend to not know her, and she'd do the same.
She had other plans.
When we shook hands, she made it seem like she suddenly recognized me. "Rico from Rikar!" she exclaimed, "I heard about you, but I didn't put it together until just now. Remember me, Morrigan?"
I gave myself a second. "Oh yeah. Small universe, isn't it?"
"It is. After we're done today, I'd love to catch up if you have time tonight."
"That would be great."
Diane was looking at us oddly. If only she knew the full story.
It was hard to enumerate on exactly how many different levels I was screwed right now. If there was any mercy to "Morrigan," she'd skip the chit-chat tonight and go straight to trying to kill me.
Emphasis on "try," of course.
"Be angry, and do not sin": do not let the sun go down on your wrath
Well, the first part - "Be angry" - is easy enough... or at least it has been lately. I've been full of righteous anger.
The second part is harder. "Do not let the sun go down on your wrath," certainly is some practical advice, as anger and sleep do not mix well.
As for the sin not, sometime I don't know what to do to be angry but not sin. If I ran into someone with this bumper sticker, I don't think I could help but confront the person and tell him or her exactly what pathetic scum he or she is. Would that achieve anything? Would the more Christian thing be to ignore it and pray for the person? I dunno. What do you think?
Carnival Of Comedy #19 At Rapid Politics!
Yay! The Rapid Politics Blog has the newestest ever Carnival Of Comedy - which is Number 19.
No 'iffy content' warnings this time, he just dropped the chaff (no word on flares)
No snarky comments either, well, save for his rating system, so we are left with a minimalist carnival much in the flavor of a spacemonkey hosted carnival. Go Dan go!
Everybody go rapidly and politically and have at it.
He's in Charge of the DNC; Keep That in Mind
Howard Dean, the answer to the question "What would a KosKid maggot look like if it matured into a fly?", has now publically said that race factored in who lived and who died.
The liberal scum are not the majority of the Democrats in America, but a kook heads the party. This is in no way acceptable. Dean should be a poster named bushh8t0r63 on DU, not a man in charge of anything. It's past time the Republican leadership shine some light on the cockroaches that hold leadership with the Democrats.
I really starting to get "call my congressman" angry with all this Katrina aftermath behavior.
In All Seriousness...
Here should be our priorities right now:
1. Help the victims of hurricane Katrina.
2. Punch a liberal.
3. Find out where the response to the hurricane failed so as to be better prepared in the future.
4. Punch another liberal.
Let's keep our heads on straight, people.
It's Time to Play the Blame Game!
Okay, everybody; stop what you're doing. No more donating money, blood, or food until we get done what's most important here: assigning blame.
Now, I experienced two destructive hurricanes last year, and, we had very little loss of life in our area. Why? Because we all agreed on who to blame. The first hurricane that hit Melbourne was because of the Jews. The second was because of the impending NHL lockout. Since we all had our blame in place, relief efforts worked smoothly.
Things are not going smoothly in New Orleans. Why? Because we are currently in a blame crisis. Most Americans don't even seem to be aware they're so supposed to be blaming people. Do they think hurricanes just happen by themselves, the fools?
Rapper Kanye West had his priorities straight. When invited for a telethon to raise money for hurricane Katrina victims, he did his best to put a stop to that foolishness of fundraising and instead let the American people know that Bush is to blame for this since he hates black people.
BLAME ITEM #1: Bush and his black hating.
I bet that stopped a number of people about to donate and made them think - think about blame. This is what is going to get us back on track.
But, there weren't only failures in the federal government, but at the state and local governments as well.
BLAME ITEM #2: Gov. Kathleen Blanco and her black hating.
BLAME ITEM #3: Mayor Ray Nagin and his black hating.
Since local governments are most important in a crisis, it is obvious that Nagin hates black people more than anyone else. He should be put on suicide watch to make sure he doesn't lynch himself.
This morning on the news, I saw New Orleans police trying to evacuate people. In their efforts, they tackled an unarmed woman. Guess which race she was?
New Orleans police hate white people! Didn't they get the memo? Now, hating blacks is bad, but, if people aren't all hating the same race, there is chaos.
BLAME ITEM #4: New Orleans police aren't hating the appropriate race.
We've already got a lot of blame here, but it's not all. MoveOn.org is planning to use images of the disaster against the confirmation of John Roberts.
BLAME ITEM #5: Conservative judges.
Bet most of you missed that one. So what can you do to help make sure that others know to get to the business of blaming? Bumper stickers! If you follow the link, you'll find a nice sticker that says, "The Blood of New Orleans is on Republican Hands." You see, Republicans are responsible for Bush who is responsible for the hurricane. It's quite true. We could have nominated someone else back in 2000, but we didn't. Me, I was going to vote for McCain except that I think that primaries are for homos.
BLAME ITEM #6: Frank J. thinks primaries are for homos.
There, that's plenty of blame. Before anymore relief efforts, we need to make sure people know who to blame. Think about it: What helps people without first assigning blame? German Shepherds do. Dolphins have.
In short: animals!
That's right: If we start helping people before assigning blame, we're no better than animals! It's time for the victims of hurricane Katrina to wait while we have some congressional hearings like civilized human beings.
September 07, 2005
Bush Causes Hurricane!
A lot of people have tried to blame Hurricane Katrina on President Bush.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., for example, claims it's because Bush refused to sign legislation reducing CO2 output, thus contributing to global warming and causing chaotic weather patterns, including Hurricane Katrina.
Silly Bobby! George's Katrina connection is far more crafty and subtle than the ham-fisted scenario that you outline. His actual contributions to global warming include such diverse elements as:
* Boiling water to make tea, but not immediately turning off the stove burner afterwards.
* Ordering extra jalapenos with his nachos.
* Allowing Kim Jong Il's poofy hair to trap carbon dioxide - a known greenhouse gas.
* Sure, he made Kim get it cut eventually, but not until AFTER the damage was already done.
* Having two really hot daughters.
Once his negligence allowed Katrina to form, he didn't do anything to prevent it's destructive rampage. Consider:
* He could've lined the Gulf Coast with big fans and blown Katrina down to Cuba - but he didn't.
* He could've ordered the space shuttle to orbit the Earth really fast, thus turning back time so that the hurricane could've been prevented - but he didn't.
* He could've stood atop a levee shouting "By the power of Grayskull, I command you to stop!" - but he didn't.
That's right. He let Hurricane Katrina have free reign to do whatever the hell she wanted!
Because hurricanes tend to vote Republican, THAT'S why!
But you'd think Chimpy McBushitler would've at LEAST been smart enough to make the APPEARANCE of helping out after the storm, right?
* He was overheard praying for God to "take care of those poor people in New Orleans". Apparently he meant "take care of" in the Don Corleone sense.
* Remember that plastic turkey Bush tried serving to the troops in 2003? He could've airdropped thousands of them to the victims to use as flotation devices - but he didn't!
* He was even videotaped casting a spell on the Sorcerer's Broom to carry buckets of water into the city to drown everyone!
But even if all this evidence doesn't convince you, you still can't deny that the following Top Secret photograph proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that George Bush is responsible for Hurricane Katrina:
Crap! Gotta run! Black helicopters!!!
Don't let Bush get away with this!1!!
The Katrina Blame Game
if you've been reading or watching news coverage of the Hurricane Katrina Disaster, you know that the most important thing we need to do right now to resolve this massive human tragedy is to assign blame to somebody.
Since it's hard to keep track of the players without a score card, I've come up with something even better: a Bingo Card!
I've been scouring the wires and web for twenty-five of the most common targets of blame, and here they are:
Just print out this card and mark off each target of blame when you see them.
Get five in a row, and you can stop reading the hyperbolic, virtiolic press coverage for the day.
Since the media is so keen on blaming President Bush for this one, I've made him the center square. He's what you'd call a "Free Space" in Bingo Lingo.
Remember folks - just as the Red Cross springs into action when disaster strikes, the media leaps to conclusions. Cheer them on!
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 24 - Hell
* * * *
When I got in the passenger seat, Diane handed me a book. "You are literate in standard human, right?"
"If you haven't deduced an answer to that, you're not a very good detective," I answered as I looked at the cover. It said in big letters "Holy Bible" (are there other kinds?) and declared itself a King James Version. Were I a king, I'd probably ask for my own version, too.
For the uninitiated, Christianity is based on the teachings of a carpenter's son who, ironically, was killed through an act of carpentry. According to the believers, he was the son of God Himself and will come again (when and where is conveniently unspecified - as is convenient that Jesus existed at a time on our homeworld before recording devices that would confirm the miracles the Bible supposedly documents).
Christianity is another one of those religions that tries to convert everyone, and its main problem in that end is convincing aliens that God chose the human homeworld as the place for his son, leaving the rest of the universe completely ignorant of him for thousands of years. Still, sentients seem to react to his "be nice to everybody" message, and there were a number of aliens at the church Diane brought me to.
Upon entrance, there were smiles and hugs all around, and I tried to act shy instead of annoyed. Diane did a decent job of shielding me from too many questions, though a number of people I found out to be her relatives seemed to be hoping I was a love interest.
Lot's of information here. Diane apparently grew up with this religion - her father was a preacher as I was informed (how a preacher got him and his wife killed by a criminal syndicate made me curious; to not be sexist, though, it could have been the wife's fault). I now knew people Diane seemed to care about (her detective demeanor was hung up at the door) which would give me great leverage against her. Her handing me this weapon against her would seem to mean she no longer suspected me of anything serious.
I'll spare you the details of the Bible study. In summary, Jesus died for our sins (Heh. My sins? That must have hurt.). Now we can go to Heaven when we die (which is apparently really nice) by being nice to everyone, getting splashed with water, and believing all this nonsense (not necessarily in that order). Otherwise, you go to Hell which is full of fire and isn't a nice place.
It's one or the other; no neutral area for anyone who was just "okay."
Also, Judgment Day is coming anytime now (as, apparently, it has been for thousands of years) when the world (I guess universe, now) will end and all will be sent to Heaven or Hell.
Were this to happen in the next couple days, it could really screw up my hit.
Needless to say, I kept quiet, reading the passages mentioned and some others out of curiosity. Diane contributed to the discussion of salvation. This made a few thing drop into place: she didn't like me killing all those idiot terrorists because now they had no chance at salvation. She must feel guilt for the people she killed in the line of duty - even though most would say they deserved it. Interesting.
The study ended just as I found the part labeled the Old Testament had more violence in it. When I left, a number said how they enjoyed having me and hoped I'd come back for worship on the day they called Sunday. I said I'd consider it, trying to sound like I was going to consider it... which I would have if that wasn't the day I was going to be busy killing Senator Gredler.
When I was back in the car with Diane, she asked if I wanted to catch dinner with her. I agreed since I needed more time to finesse her.
"Does Mexican sound good?"
"Sure." That's the one with lots of beans and cheese, right?
I kept pretending to read the Bible to keep her quiet during the car ride. I needed to prepare my performance.
When we sat down at the restaurant, I was ready for the first question. "So, what did you think?"
"I dunno. Some people see how big the universe is, and it's proof to them there must be some higher power. Others see it just as big emptiness. I don't know what I think myself, but it's a big jump to believe one specific take on the Higher Power... even if you accept there is one. At times, though, I wish I had that faith." Mix of bull and truth delivered quite well, if I do say so myself.
She just nodded. I was hoping for more.
When the waiter came (human this time), I let Diane order for me because I didn't really understand what any of the selection were from the descriptions. I was going to ask her a question next, but she headed me off.
"So what's the deal with you, Rico?"
"Huh?" I asked innocently… as I was confused.
"I've been a detective for some time, and it just seems to me that there is something to you you're not telling me."
"You don't trust me?" I tried to sound a little hurt.
She hesitated. That book she liked was against lying. "I don't know you. You seem like... a good person..."
She struggled on that last part because she didn't actually believe it. All those people I saved, and she didn't trust me.
She was smart. Smart enough to get her killed by me.
"But?" I prompted.
"But there's some mystery to you."
"Don't detectives like mysteries?"
She laughed. "No. I became a detective to end mysteries."
"Well, you're still a bit of a mystery to me." Only slightly, really. "What's your story?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Well..." I had to sound casual asking this. "Your next assignment is to save this Senator Gredler, but I got from the Chief there's some history between the two of you."
"We've never met... I just have some theories on him." She paused for a moment. "Well substantiated, in my opinion."
"What?" And I will hurt you now if you don't tell me.
"He's in bed with the Randatti criminal syndicate."
It was another freak out moment, but I kept my composure. "Why do you think that?"
"The criminal syndicates are obviously threatened with the growth of the Galactic Alliance. I figured they would make sure there are people in the leadership under their control. In my own time, I've researched the main Senators and their contacts. Through a number of different people, he's only a few degrees separated from know Randatti figures. I've presented what I put together to some officials, but they don't care. I need harder evidence, I guess."
"But you figure Corloni knows about Gredler, too," I said, thinking out loud, "and that's why they want him dead?"
"I guess. Don't know why they supposedly would send only one hitman, but it looks obvious of why they would do it during Gredler's speech... to do it so blatantly."
"To start a war." My people must have seen some weakness in Randatti and decided to finish the group off.
"That's what I think. Gredler's not going to cancel his speech because it looks pretty ridiculous that anyone could actually get to him and survive. I'm curious to see who this hitman is."
Now it was all coming together... and there was more to it than I first thought. I was to be the first shot in a war.
No, I was to be the first bullet.
"Are you all right, Rico?"
"Yeah, just trying to think through that all." I forced a laugh. "Seems like we should just let it happen; in the end, that will mean less criminals."
"I don't see it that way," she said quite seriously. She then paused for a moment, and it looked like she was almost to tears.
"My mother and father were killed by the Randatti criminal syndicate," she told me, "My father was a good man, and that just put him in the way of local criminal activities. So, they did away with him and the law here was impotent to bring any justice. Part of me would love to see Randatti destroyed, but Corloni is just more of the same… and things will only be worse if one dominates.
"I want Senator Gredler alive... and I want him arrested. That the only way to start bringing real justice to these criminals who have gone unconfronted for so long."
Diane was in way over her head if she thought she could make that happen. As for me, now that I had even more answers that I bargained for, I felt more lost than I ever had in my life.
The rest of the night was me forcing regular chit-chat while trying very hard to keep acting normal; I can't remember too much of it. The food was full of beans and cheese, though.
Why? WHY? Why?
I want to know why? WHY? Why Sen Harry Reid wants to investigate Bush's vacation while the entire congress was "in recess" and had to be called of the playground and back to Washington by guess who, that's right, somebody, I don't know who, probably somebody the President gave the congressional phone list to.
I want to know why? WHY? Why weren't they already in Washington waiting for the President to call their work number? Which you just know the person who actually did the calling did call first, I mean it was a DISASTER fercryingoutloud.
I want to know why? WHY? Why didn't the New Orleans city council get those 'you are own your own' DVD's out there into the hands of those who needed them. These people were under the delusion their local officials had a plan to help them evacuate. Knowlege that they had been cut adrift would have helped them I'm sure. Besides I've seen several NO residents carrying brand new DVD players acquired at consideralble discount at some sort of disaster clearance. They can watch them on thier new flatscreen TV's too as soon as power is restored.
I want to know why? WHY? Why did so many people stay to take care of pets when they (the pets) could be a valuable source of fresh meat at the shelters.
I want to know why? WHY? Why is everybody on the left saying somebody should do something about the persons responsible for doing something as late as something got done? Shouldn;t they be doing something instead of blame gaming and fault finding? Does firing the head of FEMA make any sense mid emergency? Who would they drop in his place? Al Franken? Sean Penn?
I want to know why? WHY? Why am I expecting the left to act sane in the midst of all this? Why haven't I learned that the rule of the left is this. Don't do what you did. Do what you didn't do so they can demand to know why you didn't do what it was that you actually did.
I'm Just Tossing Out Ideas Here
Senator Harry Reid wants to investigate Bush's vacation in relation to Hurricane Katrina. Were a pro-wrestler to run up behind him and knock him unconcious with a metal folding chair when he made an announcement like that, ever think of how much tax money we would save?
Liberals Surrounded by Corpses Whisper "I See Political Opportunity"
Congratulations, liberals, you finally succeeded in pissing me off.
I try not to get angry by politics; it's an inevitable thing in life and I'm not funny when I'm mad. But, the liberals' reaction to the disaster in New Orleans have finally pushed me to the point where I must vent. Instead of concentrating on being funny, I'm just going to concentrate on not swearing.
The left officially are now a bunch of ghouls feeding on carrion. That is what they've been reduced to. I guess it's been a steady progression since 9/11 when the country got mugged and it seemed liberalism would never be back in fashion. It first started to show during the war in Iraq when they began their American death count, gleefully waiting for it to reach 1,000 so they could shout that number. Then there's their wacky dead civilian math (when did their 100,000 Iraqis civilians dead number first turn up, and has it ever changed?). Now, we have a huge natural tragedy happen in New Orleans, and their practically peeing their pants with glee at the death and misery.
"It could be more than 10,000 dead - that more killed than 9/11! And we can blame it on Bush! It's the best thing ever!"
I've had it. I want to grab these people and smack them around until I'm too tied to move anymore. I want them out of the country. I don't want them sharing the name "American" with me.
Okay, I have a lot to say, and it's hard to shove it together. Let's try bullet points.
FRANK J. FLEMING'S LIST OF THINGS HE WANTS ALL LIBERALS TO HEAR
* Stop pretending you care about troop deaths. We know all they mean to you is less Bush voters and ammunition you can use against what they died fighting for. When you go on weeping you crocodile tears about the military dead, all you are doing is being the terrorist front line troops trying to weaken the American people's resolve. It's just too bad that on this battlefield we can't shoot you. (If, God forbid, something happened to my brother, and I saw his death used like that of Casey Sheehan, I will consider the shooting option).
* Stop pretending you care about Iraqis. You need them to fail and fail spectacularly so you can prove Bush wrong. Happy Iraqis means sad liberals. Any who express positive attitudes by America I'm sure you hope will be killed by the "insurgents." That more dead you can pretend to care about!
* Stop pretending you care about the people in New Orleans. While normal people looked on in growing horror, all you saw was your new Downing Street Memo, your new Cindy Sheehan, your new attempt to discredit Bush. I don't know who is most at fault for the failure in the disaster being handled appropriately, but that's not the point because it's not the point to you. You think you can pin this on Bush, and that's all you care about. The bigger the number of dead, the better for you. And damn you racist bastards for trying to trying to inject the issue of race into what’s already a horribly tragedy. I know you think black people are a bunch of idiots you can anger when you need votes, but that going to bite you the ass one of these days.
* Stop pretending you care about anyone. You people frustrated from being out of power that your minds are warped such that everything is politics to you. You can't see the forest through the trees anymore. You're just rats in a cage clawing and gnashing at whatever you can get a grip of. You no longer have regular human compassion (the "sheeple" are just the masses you need to convince of your own twisted viewpoints), and you people need mental help. Seriously.
* Stop threatening to leave and just leave. There are plenty of socialist countries where you nutcases can fit in. They may not have as generous immigration policies as America, but, in the least, you can sneak across the unguarded border into Canada.
Were Republicans ever this bad during the Clinton years? I remember some nutty stuff, but we were always Americans before a party member.
And speaking of Clinton, have you seen how Hillary Clinton is jumping on the New Orleans disaster, her eyes so set on 2008 she's walking into walls? She's scum, nothing more. And so are the rest of you liberals trying to make political platforms out of dead people. I can just see you guys digging up the bodies of troops and hurricane victims so you can wave them around at campaign events in 2006. A more serious society would run you out of here or lock you in asylums where you can shout your repetitive anti-Bush slogans at padded walls.
I might apologize for some of this later; it's a big disaster out there and I'm a bit emotional - like a how a normal human being is affected so many images of death and depravity. I know hope will follow eventually; the greatness of the people in America always outshines the scum out there. But part of that hope is that we can actually get rid of the ghouls festering in our society right now. They should not be put up with as normal political opponents. They're diseased individuals and should be dealt with as so.
There, I'm done.
I've been thinking a lot about the Mariott Courtyard hotel I stayed at this weekend in Shermer, Illinois.
Two things come to mind:
Anyway, just two random thoughts.
I ate more green beans and assorted raw vegetables instead. Because they're Mother Nature's idea of a snack, and Sarah Lee is a dirty slut whore friend of the Devil!
The Disaster in New Orleans Is Entirely Bush's Fault
An Editorial by Hurricane Katrina
A great disaster has struck the fair city of New Orleans. While we recover, it is important to reflect on why this disaster was so large in magnitude. A lot of blame is now being thrown around - primarily by the neocons - and some are even blaming me! But, take it from someone who was there at ground zero, this disaster is entirely the fault of pResident Bush.
"Bush was fiddling while Rome burned."
The amount of levels on which Chimpy allowed (caused?) this disaster to happen is so staggering I don't understand why him and the rest of BushCo haven't been run out of office already. Now, before anyone thinks I'm trying to pass the buck, you should understand I only aspired to be a fluffy cloud floating over North America, but Shrub had other plans. He wanted me to be a hurricane, as evident by him not signing the Kyoto Treaty! Because of him, we have global warming, and, when you have global warming, things happen! Things like hurricanes!
So, first Chimpy causes me to go all Category 4 on New Orleans when I just wanted to cool everybody down with a light shower, but does he at least help evacuate the people when he knew disaster was coming? No, he stayed on vacation! I guess he was too busy playing cowboy to help evacuate people. Before anyone starts to think that this should have been done by New Orleans or Louisiana, remember that those are local governments, while Shrub (unfortunately) is in charge of the federal government. The federal government is much bigger and should have been able to help those people... if it only tried!
Plus, the disaster would not have been so bad if only the levees had held, and they would have if BushCo had only reinforced them! I'm sure Mayor Ray Nagin has asked him, but, even if he hadn't, a real president should know these things!
After this disaster caused by Bush had struck, I was unable to stay and help (which I really wanted to do). But, when I looked to the news expecting to see the pResident springing to action, he was instead playing guitar and eating cake with John McCain! Chimpy was literally fiddling while Rome burned!
There still could have been some rescue after the flooding, but Bush had entirely defunded FEMA the day before I struck! Also, there was no one there to mount a rescue since almost all of the National Guard is in Iraq along with every helicopter! I guess war for oil is more important to BushCo than saving people's lives! Well, good luck finding a place to ship your oil to, Chimpy, now that there is no Gulf Coast!
To some, it may seem like the deaths of New Orleans were all caused by Bush's incompetence, but, in reality, BusHitler wanted them to happen! He designed this whole disaster to kill black people! I even have sources that tell me he destroyed the levees on purpose right after telling all black people to go to the Superdome - Chimpy's own special concentration camp! If you don't believe me, you need to open your eyes!
I can't help but think that if Diebold hadn't rigged the voting in Ohio and today we had President Kerry, this never would have happened. He wouldn't allow a hurricane to hit New Orleans since he served in Vietnam! Instead, we're stuck with Mr. AWOL who is too busy killing people for oil and hating the blacks! I may not be a citizen of the United States, but I will help start the move to finally impeach BusHitler who never got the job honestly in the first place!
Hurricane Katrina was a hurricane that had briefly reach Category 5 levels while over the Gulf of Mexico and is currently an activist for MoveOn.org. This editorial was reprinted with permission from The Huffington Post.
September 06, 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 23 - Bad Tidings
* * * *
When I got back to my hotel room, I didn't waste time mulling things over in my head before I pulled out my secure communication equipment. The mouthpiece was awkward, but it used sound cancellation to make sure my voice didn't travel any further than the microphone for my communicator. I didn't actually think someone was bugging my room, but now was the time to tread carefully.
"Dip, there's been a leak. They know I'm coming."
"I didn't tell anyone."
Was that another one of his jokes? Did he actually think I suspected him? I take it for granted that, since he's just a computer algorithm, he was incapable of betraying me... at least wittingly (as far as a computer program has wits). "I know you didn't. I need to talk to Vito."
"Will this change plans?"
"I'm simply passing on information at this point. How long will it take to get Vito?"
"I can try hailing him now, Rico."
It only took a minute to open a communications channel with my handler.
"Hey, I can't know the details of this one. You have..."
"Shut up, Vito. Just pass on to whomever you can that there is a leak in the system. The authorities know too much, and the only way they could know these details were if someone higher up told them."
"Okay, I'll pass that on. What are you going to do?"
"I'm proceeding as planned; the only thing they don't seem to know is I'm the one doing the hit. Now pass on what I told you and then get back to me. Okay?"
I cut the communications there; no reason wasting time when I had so much to plan.
"By the way, Rico," Dip piped in, "I now have an escape plan for you with a 32% chance of full success and a 67% chance of at least some small piece of the ship escaping orbit."
I ignored the joke; I felt like if I admitted his attempts at humor were annoying me, he'd win. "One in three is good, but keep working." Right now, it seemed like there was less than a one in three chance of me making it far enough to require the escape plan.
"What are you going to do now, Rico? Is Diane Thompson still alive?"
"Yeah, she’s still more useful to me alive. Tomorrow I'm going to help her look for a Corloni hired lone assassin out to kill Senator Gredler."
"At least that will be easy. It will only become slightly complicated if you want all the credit for bringing him in since it might be difficult to properly handcuff yourself."
I was starting to think I needed to program a way to hurt him. "Dip, did you find anything else out about Senator Gredler?"
"No, I'm afraid nothing of interest, Rico."
"Then I guess I'm going to Bible study with the Detective."
"From most people's characterization of a higher power, it is unlikely God will help you. I think your success would be more likely if He does not exist."
"Very philosophical, Dip. Ever read the Bible?"
He paused a moment. "I have now. It's full of very implausible events. Am I right in saying that most religions are based on implausible beliefs?"
"Considers your worldview, Dip."
"And what is your worldview, Rico?"
I gave that a moment's thought. "I don't care."
"Have fun at Bible study, Rico, and please pass on what you learn to me. I will remind you not to kill anyone during it because they seem to have some rule against it. Actually, the whole Bible doesn't bode well for you if any of it is true."
Nothing seemed to be breaking in my favor right now.
We take in hundreds of thousands of his people, and this is the thanks Ray Nagin gives us?
Ray Nagin, the shrieking mayor of Lake New Orleans, now wants to take his cops on vacation to Las Vegas.
That's right. Vegas.
You know, this really pisses me off. Not because it's a waste of the taxpayer dollars he didn't spend on relief efforts. Not because it rewards a bunch of thugs who bugged out at first opportunity and participated in a little looting of their own instead of commandeering the school bus fleet and getting people out of town.
No, it's because it's an insult to Houston, Texas.
We've got miles and miles of strip clubs right here in Houston, Texas. Not just by the airports like other cities do - they're all over the place. And if one gets too close to a church or a school or a playground, well, we have a huge debate over it and sometimes the strip clubs wins and the church gets sent packing.
We've got our priorities straight here, darn it.
On top of that, some of them are very fine establishments. World Class, based on what I remember from my younger and wilder days. Ricks even trades on the stock market and goes talent scouting.
But apparently, Ray thinks that we're not good enough for his cops for some reason or another. The same cops that have been swindling "freebies" off of New Orleans strippers for "policeman's perks" in more ways than one.
But our town is just good enough for, say, several hundred thousand of the people who voted him into office, dumped unceremoniously into the welcoming arms of Ray's neighbors in spite of the non-existent relief efforts Ray's own cronies pretended to mount.
Ray, you've bashed our president for your own sins and failures. You've bashed your governor for your own sins and failures. But to forsake the treasures of the city that's welcomed your people in with loving arms and generocity unparalleled in this country's existence, that's just unforgivable.
In My World: War on Weather
"Hurricane Katrina is unacceptable," President Bush told his cabinet, "We cannot let hurricanes like it happen again. I am declaring a War on Weather. So, we must decide how to first act. What causes hurricanes?"
"By the Chaos Theory," Condoleezza Rice said, "a hurricane here could be caused by a butterfly flapping its wings in Japan."
"Then I want someone sent to Japan who will bring me the heads of any butterfly that dare flaps its wings!" Bush commanded. He then reconsidered. "Actually, have it bring back the whole bodies instead and pin them up in some sort of display case so the American people can see our vengeance. What else could cause hurricanes?"
"I hate to mention it," Scott McClellan stated, "but, really, weather is just an act of God and..."
"I want God placed at the top of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted!" Bush demanded. He then took a piece of paper and quickly wrote out a note and thrust it to Scott. "Here's an ultimatum for God full of swear words and demanding His surrender. I want you to go to the nearest cathedral and deliver it."
"Now!" Bush yelled and shook his fist at Scott. Scott grabbed the note and ran away in fright.
"If I may go to other matters," Rumsfeld said, "Iran has recently had itself bombed by us in an act of defiance. I say we bomb them in retaliation."
"Rummy, I don't have time for war talk," Bush answered, "You make all the decisions and handle that yourself."
Rumsfeld walked away laughing evilly.
"Always keeping good spirits," Bush remarked.
A man in a black suit, black tie, and black sunglasses entered the room. "I have information on Hurricane Katrina that might interest you."
"And who are you?"
"My name is Clancy. I work with U.S. intelligence... or maybe I don't, if you know what I mean."
"No... but continue."
"Most think the reason Hurricane Katrina became more powerful was because of the water temperatures in the Gulf, but we found one poster on some bboard who blamed it on the Chinese. And, posters on internet bboards are almost never wrong... or never right. I forget which."
"We don't have time to figure that out," Bush declared, "I want both China and the Gulf nuked."
Vice President Cheney ran into the room. "Chief Justice Rehnquist is dead!"
Bush looked back with shock. He soon recovered to ask, "Was he killed by weather?"
"We don't yet know."
"He will be avenged!" Bush shouted into the air. He then thought for a moment. "Ooh, I need to write a eulogy."
* * * *
"Rehnquist always believed the Constitution was a living document," Bush told the people in attendance at the funeral, "That's why he obtained a magic dagger and plunged it into the heart of the Constitution, killing it forever. Because of his conservatism, many liberals were afraid that Rehnquist would vote against Roe v. Wade... since he already did back in '73. Still, he was respected by both sides, especially for his work towards civil rights for cyborgs, giving them a percentage of human rights based on their ratio of man to machine. I just hope we can all spend our last days like him, working tirelessly and cowering in the corner out of fear of Scalia's sudden mood swings. Furthermore..."
It started raining heavily.
"What!" Bush shouted, "This is another act of defiance by God! Didn't He get my ultimatum? Scott! Where are you?"
"Scott's in the hospital, dear," Laura Bush told him, "He was struck by lightning on the way out of a cathedral. Quite odd, since it was a cloudless day."
Bush shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes weather is random; what are ya gonna do?"
Whitler is back, and this one doesn't look as long as his usual one. I'll get to reading it soon, but wanted to give everyone a heads up.
UPDATE: Couldn't wait to read it, and it was really good. Despite the warning at top, I don't remember too much foul language. Everyone go read now! The new IMW will be posted in the afternoon.
A Toshiba nuclear reactor?
The one and only Homocon blogs about how U.S. dependence on dirty fossil fuels over clean nuclear power is very apparent after the recent hurricane.
I was shocked when his blog mentions the town of Galena, AK was given a Toshiba 4S nuclear powered "micro-reactor" to h--
Whoa, Toshiba? Toshiba builds nuclear reactors? Yeah, and have been doing it even after we dropped two A-bombs on them and Godzilla flattened Tokyo.
Better yet, it sounds like Toshiba has shrunk a big ol' nuclear reactor down to "micro-reactor" size!
I looked for the Toshiba 4S micro-reactor today at Best Buy but came up empty. None of the salesmen on the floor were able to find any in the back room either. Eventually the sales manager got involved, but we just couldn't find one. "It's probably selling at a price point similar to those 60" plasma screen TVs," I said. "Can you look it up in the store's computer? Maybe one of your other stores across town has one."
"I haven't heard any other stores talking about it," the sales manager said. "Maybe we're sold out because of the Labor Day sales?"
Well, that was a better theory than the lefty idiots at Amazon.com had: Their online sales rep blamed my inability to find a Toshiba 4S micro-reactor on their site because of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney's connections to big oil...
Amazon.com is in Seattle, for cryin' out loud. What do you expect?
What about nuclear reactors in U.S. Navy ships? Those are relatively small and IMAO has readers that know how to use them.
September 05, 2005
I'm back home in Houston, sitting in my happy leather chair with a happy little cat just burbling and twisting away under my hand.
Yes, when a catblogger says he's typing with one hand, it's not about porn.
I spent the weekend celebrating my grandmother's 90th birthday in the part of Illinois immortalized as "Shermer" in John Hughes' various movies.
I have returned to find zero (0) New Orleans emergency-tourists in my home. I was expecting ten or twelve.
This can mean only one thing: I have to fix my own drinks.
The Secret's Out!
All of the IMAO Podcast subscribers know what I'm talking about.
To everyone else, I'm just that low-quality arrogant prick with empty threats that forces "The Great Frank J" to be unfunnny...
...but the real fans know the secret and are laughing at everyone else!
The cool kids can talk about it in the IMAO Podcast Forum
Happy Labor Day!
Phony union holiday... but I'm not too proud to take a paid day off when given it.
Hi, it's Frank J., elder statesman and sometime IMAO contributor. Sorry about the IMAudiO vacation, but we've done fourteen shows now (full archives now available) and it's a very work intensive labor of love (especially for Scott who edits all the bits and adds music; that's his weekend). We hope to one day get money for this (and would love any ideas on promoting the show; we're currently brainstorming ourselves - oh, and thanks to everyone who has voted for our show), but, right now, we just do it because we love each and every one of you.
We have an awesome show in the works which will come out next Monday. Until then, enjoy the great blogging of IMAO (I'll be resuming tomorrow with a new In My World™) and make sure to join our IMAudiO forum to chat with your favorite celebrities - the IMAO cast!
September 04, 2005
September 03, 2005
IMAO is just "some other podcast"
The good news is that ALL previous IMAudiO productions are now available in the Archives. If you are a subscriber to the IMAO Podcast, expect to see options in your iTunes, iPodder, or other subscription software to download previous episodes in about a day or so. (UPDATE: Subscribers to our Web feed now have the option to download all previous episodes of IMAudiO)
Bad news for those of you wanting to hear a new IMAudiO production (AKA the "IMAO Podcast" to iPod owners) on Monday: We've been voted out of the top slot at Podcast Alley by four votes—IMAO couldn't keep the top slot for a day.
The podcast that displaced IMAO on the countdown is a daily radio talk show that promotes marijuana use along with "freedom and peace" as the foundations of the "basic rights of humanity," pines for the good o'l days before the Civil War when the silver standard and Democrats reigned, and on Friday night this show asked their "thousands of listeners" to vote for them on Podcast Alley because "some other podcast" was #1 by 40 votes.
That "other podcast" was us. They were too scared to even mention the name of IMAO on their show because they knew their listeners would discover IMAudiO and be hooked on us instead of pot. Apparently their listeners put down their bongs just long enough last night to enter enough votes to push IMAO out of the top slot by a single vote (as of this writing on Saturday morning, only four votes separate IMAO from the #1 slot on the Podcast Alley countdown).
Thank you to everyone who did take the time to vote for IMAO on Podcast Alley, but the bottom line is that even with our most loyal fans, IMAO couldn't hold the top slot for more than a day. It pains me to say that since we are no longer #1 on Podcast Alley, we will not be releasing a new podcast this Monday September 5.
Enjoy your Labor Day weekend and please keep those good people affected by Hurricane Katrina in your prayers and thoughts...
...but I just want you to know that it's perfectly fine to wish slow, painful death upon looters and anyone that calls IMAO "some other podcast."
September 02, 2005
Evil Glenn's BlogAd
I knew that Instapundit's been getting worried about Michele Malkin's increasing popularity in the Ecosystem, and I heard a rumor that he was going to start buying BlogAds to keep his traffic up, but I was still a little surprised the first time I saw this:
Lessons from Katrina
Here are some of the things I've learned from watching the coverage of the Hurricane Katrina disaster.
What Katrina Can Teach Us.
Money is flowing into the charity coffers. Charitable organizations can always use the extra money to fund rescue, provide comfort, and fund Air America.
Katrina was named after the Greek Goddess of global warming. At least – that’s what you hear when you talk to liberals.
Given a choice between compassion for those suffering and hating President Bush – many on the Left would choose the latter.
We still have many people clinging to hope and praying for rescue. Pray for them.
Conditions in the Superdome were bad. Poop on the floor and garbage everywhere. Thankfully, some people are being moved to the Houston Astrodome where the only remaining smell is the stench of Astro failure.
It makes sense that the first American city to be destroyed would be the one with the strongest French influence.
Hope the city gets rebuilt quickly – Girls Gone Wild is waiting to restart filming.
If you want to see boobs in New Orleans you’ll have to wait until the next official press conference.
The job of the Mayor is to take care of the people in his city. When he fails at that – his secondary job becomes blaming the federal government.
We have some of the best rescue people in the world. Thank you for your efforts.
This is big. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Be patient with the rescuers. They’re doing the best they can.
The United Nations would offer to send help. Given the choice, people prefer the smell of toxic waste.
Speaking of which: What will move faster – rebuilding New Orleans or remodeling the United Nations building?
You should also have a good supply of toilet paper. In a pinch, you can always use books by Al Franken.
Rebuilding New Orleans is a stupid idea. They’d be better off moving to California. There’s plenty of housing here – along the San Andreas Fault.
I guess every state has a natural disaster they often see. California has earthquakes and Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The entire New Orleans region is contaminated with toxic waste. It’s official: New Orleans is now like New Jersey - except with better music.
At some point in the process – somebody will say – “We can’t rebuild here – this whole place is a Wetland Preserve.” Expect it.
Cindy Sheehan lost her top spot on the front page. Her next step is to protest the Blue Angles for glamorizing the military to help recruitment.
After that – she’ll camp outside New Orleans to protest the military’s role in providing aid and comfort.
Cindy never met the president – but she did get to meet Martin Sheen who plays the President on TV. She also met Al Sharpton, who plays a reverend.
America is resourceful. That’s what I love about our people.
FEMA is looking at bringing in cruise ships to provide shelter. It’s a good move provided that none of the people end up with the Norwalk Virus.
Thinking ahead- it’s a good idea for you to have a supply of cash on hand in small bills – just in case your local store isn’t available for looting.
When a terrorist in Gitmo bats his eyelashes – does it cause a storm in New Orleans? Some people think so.
Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez criticized the New Orleans evacuation plan. As an example, he offered Fidel Castro who can evacuate Cuba very quickly. After some quick checking – this is in fact true. For every Cuban there are 2.4 inner tubes.
If you haven’t donated to a charity yet, maybe today would be a good day.
Bush's response to foreign hurricane help: "Tactless"
"Bush's response was so tactless," a liberal told me today. "He could have told the other nations 'thank you for the offer but we'll handle it' but he didn't. My teenage daughter was yelling at the TV yesterday because of it."
Interesting that liberals consider this "tactless" response from the President when asked during a live TV interview with ABC News' Diane Sawyer about his stance on hurricane aid from foreign nations:
President Bush: "I'm not expecting much from foreign nations because we haven't asked for it. I do expect a lot of sympathy and perhaps some will send cash dollars. But this country's going to rise up and take care of it. You know, we would love help, but we're going to take care of our own business as well, and there's no doubt in my mind we'll succeed. And there's no doubt in my mind, as I sit here talking to you, that New Orleans is going to rise up again as a great city."
State Department spokesman Sean McCormack told reporters on Thursday that Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice decided "no offer [from foreign governments] that can help alleviate the suffering of the people in the afflicted area will be refused."
Even the communist news service in China reported on White House spokesman Scott McClellan's briefing where he said: "[The United States is] open to all offers of assistance from other nations, and I would expect we would take people up on offers of assistance when it's necessary."
18# Week Edition Hurricane Comedy Of Carnival
18# Week Edition Hurricane Comedy of Carnival
(this post text of some may need rearranging, due to damage storm from the wind)
Rampage Doc at up is carnival new thE.
Enjoy. Thanks Doc. He put in all nighter pulling this weeks carnival together.
Countdown has started for new IMAudiO
If the fans can keep us in the top slot for a full and consecutive 24 hour period, we will release a new IMAudiO production this September 5 to reward our loyal listeners.
Thank you for your votes and for believing in IMAO!
As The Dome Turns
Apparently, the fire marshal and the people who plan disaster relief don't communicate, because Houston offered up 24,000 folks a cot and three hots at the Astrodome but the gates have been shut at 12,000 or so.
We here in Houston are used to this kind of screw up. Although what we're really waiting for is when the refugees threaten to relocate to Tennessee because there aren't adequate luxury box accommodations and the astroturf isn't fit for play.
September 01, 2005
Time to Put Up or Shut Up
NOTE: This post will stay at top for the rest of the day. Check below it for updates.
Today's the Carnival of Fundraising for hurricane Katrina disaster relief. I recommend The Salvation Army as they're a Christian charity that seems to have avoided scandal that has plagued some other charities (though I think the bad publicity has caused The Red Cross – usually a first responder - to reform).
Glenn Reynolds has a big list of charities to donate to. I would first see if your place of work is going to match donations before picking one. And, as I said before, it's not charity unless you're hesitant to give that much.
Now excuse me while I call my company's HR department to see if they're doing the matching funds again.
UPDATE: My company is doing matching funds with The Red Cross, so that's who I'll be donating to.
I guess you all want the Left to prevail
Left-wingers dominate Apple iTunes and Podcast Alley's Top Ten lists and have since those sites started keeping tabs on listeners' habits. Frank and I promised new IMAudiO (or "a new episode of the IMAO Podcast" for those who own an iPod) if IMAO is voted #1 at Podcast Alley for a 24 hour period between now and midnight September 5, 2005.
I just checked the stats at Podcast Alley and see that IMAO is #8 with only a fourth of the votes required to bump us up to the top slot. If you're in the top slot at Podcast Alley, it often garners media attention for the producers (which IMAO needs to continue and grow).
And nine out of ten of the top podcasts are produced by political leftists--even if their shows aren't about politics, these top-rated hosts go out of their way to villify traditional American values. And two of the latest audio productions added to the Podcast Alley lineup are "Left Hook Radio" and "Blast The Right" whose show descriptions cheefully offer to give advice on defeating the Republican agenda.
Take a stand against these hate-filled lefties and tell all of your friends and family to vote for IMAO at Podcast Alley. If you can't immediately get on the Podcast Alley website, it's the first of the month and lots of left-wing podcasts are telling their listeners to vote. Be vigilant and don't let the political left game this system!
Carnival Of Comedy
Your humble spacemonkey completely forgot about about the Carnival Of Comedy this week. It's like my mind just blew away or something. I don't know what could have been affecting me.
Anyway, I forgot to promo it on Tuesday and I even forgot to email Doc Rampage the Carnival goodie basket of information.
So if the good Doctor doesn't have time to get it posted today blame me, not him. I'm sorry.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 22 - New Assignment
* * * *
As I looked at the interior of the police headquarters, I imagined my run through the halls and theorized where people would most likely be standing as I shot my way out. Pandemonium would be my ally and my only way out alive as countless blaster bolts would fill the building, most aimed at me.
Of course, there was no reason I'd have to shoot my way out of here, but it was fun to imagine.
"What are you smiling about?"
"It's a nice building," I told Diane, "I wish I had a place like this back home."
"Come on; I need to talk to the chief."
As we walked through the building, I got a number of stares and smiles. I guess the word of my "heroism" had spread.
"Heard about you and your new partner, Tommy-gun," said a plain clothes detective with a smile that asked to be punched out, "Good job. Lucky you got results, too, as, from the sounds of your methods, the Muslim community would have your badge for this under normal circumstances."
"Do you have a point?" Diane asked sharply.
His smile died a bit. He was about to introduce himself to me, but Diane pulled me along. Good. I didn't care who he was.
We entered an office where a stern looking Corridian sat behind a desk. "Close the door and take a seat," he said.
I took a seat as Diane closed the door. "I'm Chief Greeling," the Corridian told me, "So, you're the Officer Rico, I assume?"
"Yes, sir. I'm thankful that I was allowed to tag-along and see how things are done here."
He chuckled. "Detective Thompson is not exactly how we do things. Anyway, we are thankful to have you here; you've saved countless lives already. By the way, five terrorist were killed at Roppola Plaza and the bomb was defused." He looked to Diane - now seated next to me - with a grave expression. "Westler was killed in the firefight."
Diane was shocked and looked about to say something. I just held my tongue. It was work enough just appearing normal; I wasn't going to pretend concern over some guy I never heard of.
Diane recovered herself. "Have we uncovered their main plot?"
"Nothing was found in that basement that indicated a terrorist plot on the day Senator Gredler gives his speech."
I actually had to use effort to keep from laughing. I guess I was in a humorous mood. Me sitting here as some real cop hero was just too much.
Diane sighed. "What now?"
"That will be the concern of some other detectives. After your actions at the mosque, I have to take you off of this before we get anymore complaints."
"And when did we start caring about the opinion of those who help hide terrorists?" she shot back.
"Thompson, I don't have time for your religious bigotry," the Chief said angrily, "Sometimes I think you aggravate as much crime as you solve."
So Diane was right; they knew her record and sent her to get the job done so they could then yell at her afterwards to make it all right. I don't know why she would put up with that, and I decided to put in a word for her (least I could do since I was probably going to eventually kill her).
"Where I come from, the Detective was actually quite reserved considering the scum we were dealing with; I just know some of those people are going to be more trouble down the line. If anything, you should be pushing them harder."
The Chief just nodded. He couldn't yell at me; I'm a hero.
"Rico was certainly invaluable in this," Diane stated, "He has a very good eye."
"And great aim, from what I here. Was it your idea to send Rico in alone to the terrorists’ hiding spot, Thompson?"
"It was my own idea," I told him, "We didn't have time. I don't mean to be rude, but is there some point to this blather? We just stopped numerous terrorist attacks, but there still might be one big one to come and there’s an assassination of some politician to stop. Where I come from, we don't just sit back and chat when there trouble abound, and I don't understand what we're doing here."
Diane gave me a sharp look to shut up - which I ignored. I'm the hero cop; I can say what I want.
"We just like to review results so we can adjust in the future," the Chief explained, a little flustered. He looked to Diane. "I'm now assigning you to part of the search for the assassin aimed at Senator Gredler." He leaned closer to Diane and had a threatening expression. "You will in no way get near him, though."
So it wasn't just the Senator; it was something with Diane and the Senator. This was getting so interesting.
"Why would I want any involvement with him?" she answered casually.
The Chief looked to me. "If you are still interested in learning how we handle crime in Nar Valdum, I think there are some better detectives I could assign you with."
Diane had no visible reaction to the slight. "I think we made a good team, but it's up to him."
I could now see some worry in Diane. She still suspected me - of something if not being the assassin specifically - and wanted to keep an eye on me. If I went with some other cops, it could mean I could get closer to my target and learn more with less suspicion aimed at me. Still, Diane probably knew more than anyone who actually followed all these regulations these civilized planets have.
"I'd rather stick with Blondie here; she's made a fun vacation so far."
They both frowned.
"You two will be meeting with Galactic Federation officials tomorrow morning," the Chief explained, "They apparently have information that could give you some leads." He smiled at me. "You'll get some interesting experience with this. Do you know much about the Corloni criminal syndicate?"
They do pay my bills. "I know of it... that and their rival the Randatti criminal syndicate." Who most likely has a contract on my head. I could notice a slight cringe from Diane at the mention of "Randatti." When some organization kills your family in front of you, my understanding is that you don't get over it quickly.
"Well," the Chief continued, "we have reliable sources telling us that Corloni has sent a lone assassin to kill Senator Gredler during his upcoming speech."
At this point, I felt like shooting my way out of the police station just to relieve stress. "Reliable sources?" I queried, quieting my desperation.
The Chief leaned back in his seat. "I can't discuss that any further."
Now I imagined pulling out my gun, quickly shooting Diane, and then pounding the Chief's head into his desk until he told me everything I wanted to know.
I decided to save that option for later.
"Detective Thompson, you have the rest of the day off," the Chief said, "Make sure to be polite to the Galactic Federation officials tomorrow. I don't think your reputation has traveled out of this star system.”
Diane got up without a word and left the office. I followed, trying to wrap my mind around things. I had a heavily secured message to kill Senator Gredler. The only way the police could know about the details of the hit was a leak high up in the Corloni organization’s chain. I never dealt with anything like this before, and it was not weighing well on me.
I tried to calm myself before Diane might notice my desperation, but she was too busy looking at a computer screen. I took a seat next to her desk and looked over. It was a report on the firefight at the plaza.
"Westler left cover to help a Corridian child who was standing out in the open," Diane stated. "He was shot while shielding the girl with his own body. The girl was unharmed."
My preferred guns would have gone through that sap and the little girl, but that didn't seem to be Diane's point. "Sounds like he was a good man," I stated, putting my hand on her shoulder.
She shut down the computer and then met my eyes. "He was horribly corrupt. Bribes, kickbacks... you name it. But, when the chips were down, he saw a child in harms way and ran out into danger."
Sounded like something that would make you think... if you weren't me. People instinctively want to protect children; it's called the motherly instinct. Even guys have it... just not me. "So, what are you doing now, Diane?"
"I'm going home to relax. Then I'm going to Bible study."
"You're a Xian?" That explained some things... and made some other things more confusing.
"I prefer Christian. Do you want to come? It might be interesting for you if you've never been to one."
I literally would rather be shot in the leg again than spend time talking morality with a bunch of strangers who all believe in some religious hokey pokey; sure, being shot would hurt, but I'd get to spend a few more hours watching nature shows while the wound healed. Then again, I still needed Diane to open up to me more... especially now that there seemed to be a traitor in the Corloni organization.
"I'll give it a try; I just don't want everyone to try and convert me or nothing."
She smiled. "I'll make sure you're not singled out."
Great; more human interaction... and about morality and religion, no less. If this psychopath had a lick of sense in him, I'd be keeping my mouth shut for this.
"Escape from Northern California"
Check it out.
The end of the Blood Libel
Good news: I've been officially cleared of the murder of Jesus Christ! No more blood libel against me for being Jewish! Take that, Arab League and Catholics!
Bad news: The report was based on tests performed by the Houston Police Department Crime Lab.
*sigh* It's not like I haven't gotten used to the public stonings.
I May Be Dead, But I'm Over 24 Years Old
An Editorial Ghostwritten by Army Spc. Casey Sheehan
Hey, Mom. Things don't always work out exactly as planned, and I certainly didn't think I'd have to be dictating a letter through an Ouija board. Originally, I just wanted to do my service in the Army and go on to other things, but we know how that worked out. Anyway, I have a few things to say, but I don't want you to take them the wrong way. A lot of people have been saying the nastiest things about you, but I know they're not true.
First off, I'm sorry. I made you cry - a lot - and I didn't want that. Now you and Dad have split up, and you can't tell me that isn't my fault. Plus, I hear you're not speaking with a lot of the family because they supported Bush and the war. There has always been political differences in the family, but I know this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gone off to Iraq and gotten killed. I never meant for all this to happen, and I'm feeling guilty.
But here's the thing, I chose to go to Iraq. I re-enlisted in 2004, when all the arguments against the war there are now were already out there. I also volunteered for that mission in which I got killed. I was a grown man, and I made my choices. Maybe they were stupid choices and I got duped into this whole thing - I certainly didn't mean to die - but they were my decisions and I thought what I was doing was right.
Now, I know we never saw eye to eye on the war, but you had always supported me. You and Dad even visited me while I was training in California. I really appreciated it; pretty much no other families did that. The thing is, I'd still like some of that support now.
You know how back when I was a kid you used to spit on napkin and wipe my face in front of my friends and I'd get all embarrassed? Well, this whole "Camp Casey" thing is like that times a million. I know you don't mean it that way, but you make it sound like I was some dumb kid led by the pied piper to Iraq. I knew exactly what I was doing, though, and I wasn’t a kid. Now, through your camp, my name is associated with all this people I wouldn't want anything to do with - people I don't think are your real friends either. Then the media has all these statements from you and everyone is trying to make it sound like you're some nut when I know you’re just trying your best to do right by me.
Now that you're heading away from Crawford and the hurricane has gotten the media attention away from you, maybe it's time to take a rest. I'm not going to argue politics with you, and, if you want to argue against the war, keep doing so... but maybe more low key. Still, I know you want to blame Bush for me dying, but, to be honest, then you have to blame me some too. It wasn't just his decisions that put we out there.
Anyway, I met this Iraqi kid the other day; he was gassed by Saddam. When he found what I was killed doing, he gave me a hug and said, "Thank you." That's what I really want. I understand if you're not up to it now, but, maybe sometime in the future, you could go to my grave and say thanks to me... thanks for trying to do what I thought was right, at least, even if we didn't agree on it. That's all.
I love you, Mom.
Army Spc. Casey Sheehan was killed in Sadr City, Iraq, on Palm Sunday, April 4th, 2004, after volunteering for a rescue mission of fellow soldiers. He was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star for valor.
if frankj is the poor man's scrappleface . . .
. . . i must be the poor man's sacred cow burgers
this guy has skillz, and, if you haven't already, you need to sign up for his daily e-mail list. day in and day out he brings the funny. i wonder if he will consider taking me on as an apprentice . . . hmmmmmmm . . .
No IMAudiO this week
IMAO is taking time off this Labor Day weekend, so there will be no IMAudiO on September 5th.
However, we will release a new show on Monday if we are voted #1 at Podcast Alley and sustain the #1 slot for a 24 hour period before midnight September 5, 2005.
We need your votes! Voting is quick, free, and doesn't require registration or personal information.
When we are voted #1 on Podcast Alley, we will reward our fans with a new IMAudiO production on Monday.
Go vote now!
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Hellbender Take Two
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