Archive of entries posted on February 2004

In My World: Nader Infiltraitor

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“Corporations. Corporations. Nothing but big corporations.”
Cheney shut off the T.V. “Nader has entered the race.”
“Man, I’ve never heard someone say ‘corporations’ so many times in one minute,” Bush remarked, “and he says it like it’s a swear word. What happened to him? Did a corporation pick on him when he was a kid?”
“He’s just a sick, twisted individual,” Cheney answered.
“And perhaps the key to your reelection,” said the hooded figure of Karl Rove as he emerged from the shadows.
“Why does my presidency always rely on sick, twisted individuals?” Bush exclaimed.
“He tipped the scales in your favor in 2000,” Rove said, “and he could do so again.”
“He’s like a Perot,” Bush said, “but working for me instead of against me like in 1992. I’m still stinging from that one.”
“That was your father!” Cheney exclaimed angrily.
Bush thought for a moment. “Oh yeah. I get us confused because we have the same name.”
Cheney slapped Bush upside the head. “Do you have to do that?” Bush asked angrily.
“Yes. It’s part of my job as VP.”
Bush rubbed the back of his head. “One of these days I’m going to read the Constitution and check that.”
“Can we focus?” Rove demanded angrily, the room growing darker as he spoke, “We must make sure that the one called Nader gains support from the liberals. The only way to do that is to make them think that there are few differences between the Democrats and Republicans.”
“But the Democrats are different!” Bush objected, “They smell!”
“Are we going to talk about war at any point in this meeting?” Rumsfeld demanded.
“This is all about reelection strategy,” Cheney answered.
“Then I’m going to my office and punch holes in my wall,” Rumsfeld said as he got up, “You girls call me when we’re back to talking about useful things.”
“Less distractions,” Rove uttered, “Now, we need to have people infiltrate a meeting of liberals and convince them to become grassroots support for Nader. Then they will pull in others and no one will be able to stop us.”
“But everyone is too busy with government functions to do stupid crap like that,” Cheney said, “Well… except for Bush; I’m not sure if he does anything.”
“That’s right!” Bush said, “I don’t do anything! I’ll do it!”
“Then it is decided,” Rove uttered, before fading back into the shadows.

“Just set it on fire,” Bush said into his cell phone, “Whenever I don’t understand anything, I set it on fire.”
“What are you doing?” Scott McClellan asked.
“I’m just giving my daughter Barbara advice,” Bush answered.
“Jenna!” Jenna shouted through the phone.
“Hey, I get you two confused; you’re twins,” Bush said.
There was an audible groan through the phone and then a dial tone. “She hung up,” Bush stated as he put the phone away. “So do I look like a hippy? I have the tie dye t-shirt and fruity colored glasses and everything.”
“You’re wearing khakis,” Scott pointed out.
“I always said I should have paid more attention to what kind of pants hippies wear,” Bush said, shaking his head.
“So is this rainbow dye going to wash out of my hair,” Scott asked while scratching his scalp.
“What am I? A hairatoligist?”
“You know, I do have useful things to be doing,” Scott stated angrily, “If you just appreciated how hard those press conference are to give, you wouldn’t be taking me on your misadventures.”
“First, until something goes wrong, this is just an adventure,” Bush corrected him, “Second, I have a great replacement for you today to do the press conference.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Who is it this time?”
“It’s not a who,” Bush said, “but I got one of the smartest animals that isn’t a human.”

“Isn’t that dolphin going to die if someone doesn’t put him back in a tank,” a reporter asked.
“Hey, he’s weak and weary,” answered another reporter, rubbing his hands together greedily, “Maybe we can trick a straight answer out of him.”

“So what meeting are we infiltrating?” Scott asked.
“Nader is speaking at a group who protests world trade and corporate expansion,” Bush told him, “They’re called “Progressives Against Progress”. Now let’s get inside.”
They both entered the auditorium and were soon inundated with the pungent smell of hippies. “If you need to vomit,” Bush whispered to Scott, “Cover it up by saying you had some bad weed.”
“I don’t know about this Nader,” said one hippy to another, “He’s just going to make Bush win again, and Bush is bad.”
“But the Democrats are just like me, dudes,” Bush interjected, and then Scott nudged him. “I mean like Bush… dudes. Both Kerry and Edwards voted for the war like Bush, and they like oil same as Bush and… uh… they wear ties.”
“You make some great points,” one of the hippies stated, “What’s your name?”
“I’m… uh… Moonshine,” Bush answered, “and my friend here is… uh… T-Bone… wait, that’s a gansta name, not a hippy name… I mean his name is Tubby McGee.”
“Tubby McGee!” Scott exclaimed.
“You and Tubby are two smart dudes,” said another hippy.
“This is true,” Bush answered, “We smoke lots of things that make us smart. Right, Tubby.”
“Yep. Lots of smoking,” Scott answered.
“So tell all your buddies that Democrats are just as bad as the Republicans and to vote for Nader,” Bush stated.
“Will do, Moonshine!” the hippies answered.
“Wow,” Scott whispered, “I’m amazed to find people dumber than you.”
“It is amazing!” Bush exclaimed, “And I’m playing them all for saps!”
Soon everyone hushed up as Nader came on the stage. “Corporations!” he yelled, “The Democrats and Republicans are owned by corporations! Bush is nothing but a living, breathing corporation!”
“Preach it, brother!” Bush shouted.
“Corporations!” Nader shouted, “I went into a McDonalds the other day… ends up it was a corporation!”
The audience gasped.
“Man, all this talk about corporations is reminding me I need to check on my stock portfolio,” Bush said to Scott as he took out his cell phone, “I’m glad I got that stock market working again.”
“Hey, cell phones are made by corporations!” Nader shouted as he pointed at Bush.
“Quiet!” Bush answered, “I’m checking my stocks.”
“Stocks are tools of corporations!” Nader shouted. He then looked more closely at Bush. “You look familiar.”
A hippy pulled the fruity colored glasses off of Bush. “It’s Bush!” they all shouted.
“Corporations in disguise!” Nader shouted as he pointed at Bush and Scott. “Get them before they corporate!”
The hippies surrounded Bush and Scott. “You’ll never catch me with my corporation made jetpack!” Bush laughed as he blasted off through the skylight. “Muh ha ha ha!”
“I didn’t get a jetpack,” Scott said as he watched Bush fly away. He then saw all the angry hippies around him and began to cower. After a moment of thought, though, he asked, “Wait? What do angry hippies do? Throw tofu at me?”
“And hommus.”
“Eep.”

Question of Taste

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Did I step over the line when I joked that Rachel Lucas is dead? It gets hard to step over the line with humor about distant subjects, but Rachel had been a big part of the blogosphere and that’s more like making a joke about someone we know. Personally, I’m frustrated by her dissappearance, and I guess I did it out of a hope to provoke some answers.
Anyway, I like making fun of Commies and hippies because we all hate them, but things become quickly unfunny for me if I feel I’ve distressed someone. So was that joke over the line?

Frank Answers: Black Holes, Free Oil, Invisibility, What Really Happened to Rachel Lucas, Energy, and President Frank

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Traveler from NW Ohio writes
Given the following Black-hole Dynamic Laws …
first law of black hole dynamics
For interactions between black holes and normal matter, the conservation laws of mass-energy, electric charge, linear momentum, and angular momentum, hold. This is analogous to the first law of thermodynamics.
second law of black hole dynamics
With black-hole interactions, or interactions between black holes and normal matter, the sum of the surface areas of all black holes involved can never decrease. This is analogous to the second law of thermodynamics, with the surface areas of the black holes being a measure of the entropy of the system.
How much force would it take to make Michael Moore implode?
About one more taco will do it.
Actually, I think we should start a fund to feed Michael Moore until he implodes, sending him random gifts of fatty goods. If it’s timed right, he’ll suck a bunch of his liberal admirers into the black hole he makes from himself, creating one extremely annoying and obnoxious singularity.
matt l from Big D, TX asks:
Now that we own our own oil producing country, why do gas prices continue to rise? Shouldn’t I now be able to fill up my Freedom loving suv for free? (while all those dirty hippies and protesters pay double, and clean my house)
Why would you want dirty hippies and protestors cleaning your house? But this is Frank Answers™, not Frank Questions™.
Anyway, I was a little surprised by gas prices myself. I thought since we just traded all that blood for oil, we would be paying ten cents a gallon now. But inside sources tell me they’re saving it for Bush’s reelection. If he gets reelected, free oil for everyone who supported the war. If he loses, he’ll spray all the oil on everyone who didn’t support him and set them on fire.
Actually, he might do that either way.
Clint the Cool Guy from Texarkana, TX asks:
1. If you could become invisible, would you still be able to see?
2. Do you report your website earnings on your income tax?
1. No, because light needs to reflect off your eye for you to be able to see, and, if light reflects off something, it is also seen (and thus wouldn’t be invisible). Solutions are to just have your eyes visible and totally freak people out or be completely invisible and blind and bumping into everything and people are like, “What the hell is bumping into everything? It’s like some moronic poltergeist!” and they’d be totally freaked out.
But if you’re already blind and used to it, like Zatoichi, the blind samurai, then being invisible would totally rock.
2. Uh… I dunno. Maybe I’ll bring that up on H&R Block, but if I don’t report them, everyone who visits this site claim you do it for charity.
Will in Knoxvvegas, Tennessee writes:
I’m sad about Rachel Lucas shutting down her blog. What can you do to get her back? Maybe a team of Stealth Ninjas to “change her boss’ mind” to give her a full weeks pay, while actually dropping her from all work responsibilities? I think if I worked too much and had no time to blog, that would be enough to get me back. Maybe I’ve just got a narcissistic disorder too. Sweet.
Rachel Lucas was a great blogger, and she helped me move to MT and even made the logo you see above, but I’m afraid she is never coming back.
Rachel Lucas is dead.
I’m sorry to report it, but I was the one to ID her after the fiery car accident. The only identification left was a rant written on the back of a napkin – the style unmistakably Rachel’s – plus a few pictures of her dog Sunny. Just let the world know that she died as she lived: hating Michael Moore and Barbra Streisand.
Wacky Hermit from Undisclosed Mountain State
Bread always lands butter side down, and cats always land on their feet. So if you securely strap a piece of buttered bread, butter side up, to the back of a cat and drop the ensemble off the top of a building, what happens at the bottom?
The easiest way to find the answer to this would be to strap the said buttered bread to said cat and throw him off said building, but that’s not scientifical. Science involves equations and theories.
Now, a cat lands on its feet because of an innate sense of equilibrium. Buttered bread lands butter side down for the sake of irony. The question is which force is more powerful? To me, the power of irony would only overpower the cat’s sense of equilibrium if someone really intended on eating that bread:
“Now, Mittens, I’m going to strap this piece of buttered bread to you for safe keeping as I’m really hungry… No stay away from the edge of the building, Mittens! Now land on your feet as always… Nooo! Not your back! My piece of bread is ruined! And Mittens had always landed on his feet before. Why, God, why?”
John S. from Valdez, Alaska writes:
Frank, I live in Alaska in a place where we get a lot of snow. Where does all the white go when the snow melts in the spring?
I used to live in Alaska, too, and I once stumbled upon the answer. Ends up all the white goes into an underground cave run by little gnomes who then package it up and sell it to the Colombians who then sell it back to Americans as cocaine. It seems like an inefficient process, but your know how magical gnomes are.
Mike Webster from Dallas, Texas asks:
If E=mc^2, what happens if you only double mc?
Well, then you get two times mc, and don’t you dare try and pass that off as energy because no one is going to believe it. Once the power company tried to sell me 2mc instead of real E, and I found out right away and was like, “Hey! Jerk-offs! Give me the good stuff before I punch you in the face!”
Yeah, that’s right. Don’t try and get any of that 2mc crap pass Frank.
Kelly (aka The Patriette) from somewhere in the middle of Texas writes:
1. With your infinite knowledge, why aren’t you running for President? We could use someone with your type of ideas.
2. If President Bush were to select you to replace Dick Cheney as his running mate, what would you do?
1. Some jackass put in the Constitution you have to be 35 to be president, making me eleven years lacking. Other than that, I’d so be president right now. Anyway, Frank for President in 2016 (presumably right after Condi finishes her second term).
2. Total crime spree, dude. I wouldn’t have anything better to do, and my best bud has pardon power, so look out! We’re talking daring daylight robberies followed by bar fights all night long. Watch out, everyone, Frank’s the VP, and you can’t touch me. Woo-hoo!

Please keep the questions coming (I would especially like more science and math questions), <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.

Bah!

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That’s my answer to this challenge against me. I just submitted my top ten list, and had enough rejected items to make another winning top ten list.
Today is a day off for me, so I slept in, but I’ll have a bunch of Frank Answers™ for you soon because you’ve all been so good.

Sometimes My Readers Are Smart

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I need to record a phone conversation for cool reasons I’ll reveal later, and I’ve hooked a phone line into my laptop and tried various software. Some claim my modem doesn’t support voice, but I found one program, Call Corder, that seems to work fine. The only problem is that the recording seems to use the voice recorder that comes with all windows operating systems and that cuts off after a minute of recording. Anyone know a way to make it record longer?
UPDATE: Any other ideas or software to use for record a phone call would be appreciated, as I’m not sure some of the tricks for making Microsoft Sound Recorder record longer (loading a large blank file) will help here.
UPDATE 2: Got a 2.4 GHz wireless phone (I have a 802.11g netowrk, but the box says it’s 802.11 friendly). It has speakerphone options for both the base and handset, and that plus a microphone and duct tape is an engineering solution to the problem. Boo-yah!
And now I have a wireless phone for my den. I’d always run to the kitchen when the phone rings because I hate using a wired phone.

In My World: Can’t Gitmo Satisfaction

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THIS EPISODE OF IN MY WORLD IS SPONSORED BY: Cooper for President
Are you tired of John Kerry, fifth column traitors, and Islamos? Then vote
for the ‘tard: Cooper for President!

“…and then I’ll rip out your entrails and dangle them from a tree that is to be chosen at a later date,” Rumsfeld said.
“But that doesn’t answer my question about the quagmire in Iraq,” the reporter responded.
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld yelled as he ripped a mike out of his podium and tossed it at the reporter’s head.
“My question is about the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay and the violation of their rights,” stated another reporter.
“Why do you care about terrorist scum?” Rumsfeld demanded, “I guarantee that that human filth is not being hooked up to electrodes, having their fingernails pulled out, bring beaten with a rubber hose, or any other various thing I’m planning on doing to them. Does that make you pansies happy?”
“We hear that some of the terrorists aren’t delighted with their conditions,” said another reporter.
“That’s it! No more questions,” Rumsfeld exclaimed as he pulled out two .45’s, “Now you all die!”
The press fled the room. Bush then came up to Rumsfeld. “You need to control that temper, Rummy.”
“The only thing I need to control is my aim!”
“I know what would make you feel better!” Bush exclaimed, “A visit to beautiful Cuba!”
“Yes,” Rumsfeld said as he put away his guns, “Time to torture some terrorists!”

“So here we are at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba,” Bush narrated to the benefit of the readers.
“Torture! Torture! Torture!” Rumsfeld said excitedly as he walked towards the base.
“Hey Mr. President and Mr. Warmonger,” said the Commander of the base, “Don’t you have things to do in Washington?”
“They say things go more smoothly when I’m not there,” Bush answered, “Now where are these wily terrorists?”
“Just point us to the torture chamber,” Rumsfeld ordered.
“Uh… we don’t have a torture chamber,” the Commander said, “We treat the prisoners nice here to keep Amnesty International off our backs.”
Bush looked around. “Hey, this place looks more like a club than a prison.”
“And the drink prices at this tiki bar are way too low,” Rumsfeld yelled, He then turned to the commander. “You’re coddling the prisoners! So all this time I’ve been covering you by saying you’re not torturing the prisoners and trampling their rights, you’ve actually been not torturing the prisoners and not trampling on their rights?”
“Well… yeah!” the Commander admitted.
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld screamed, causing the man to run away.
Soon a terrorist walked by holding a blue ball and a racket. “This racquetball is losing its bounce,” he complained, “You better get me new ones or I’ll call Amnesty International!”
Rumsfeld grabbed the terrorist by his neck and held him up in the air. “You’re going to spill your guts about what you know or you’re literally going to spill your guts when I rip them out with a dull spoon!”
“Amnesty International!” Bush exclaimed as some people came walking by.
“What’s going on here?” one of Amnesty International demanded.
“Terrorists aren’t being tortured and murdered, that for sure,” Bush said.
“We heard the racquetball courts at this detention camp aren’t adequate. Is this true?”
The terrorists, who was being hugged tight to Rumsfeld, said in weak voice, “No. Everything is fine.”
Amnesty International didn’t look too convinced, but they walked off. As soon as they were gone, Rumsfeld picked up the racket and started beating the terrorist over the head with it. “Now tell us what you know! Rarr!”
“Fine! I’ll go write up a list of known contacts!” the terrorist said, backing away, “You guys sure are mean.”
“That’s how you get information from these subhuman bastards,” Rumsfeld said.
“We have to be careful, though,” Bush stated, “Those Amnesty International freaks are watching us. If they see a terrorist even get inconvenienced, they’ll raise hell for me in the press.”
“Not my problem!” Rumsfeld announced as he walked further into the camp. Soon he came to a number of terrorists playing video games. “What’s this?” Rumsfeld demanded.
“It’s a video arcade!” Bush exclaimed happily.
“Quiet!” yelled one of the terrorists, “You’re going to make me lose a life.”
“Nothing will prevent that,” Rumsfeld said, grabbing the terrorist by the head and smashing it into the arcade game screen.
“Hey! I wanted to play that game next!” Bush complained.
Rumsfeld punched through the wall and ripped out a pipe. Holding it over his head, he yelled, “Now all you terrorists scum are going to tell me what you know and I may not beat you to death… though I probably will anyway!”
“That’s a violation of rights!” exclaimed on of Amnesty International who was watching.
“Shouldn’t you people be more concerned with the nearby political prisoners imprisoned by Castro than murderous terrorists?” Rumsfeld asked.
“Castro is just trying to preserve his socialist paradise,” the Amnesty International worker responded, “but we need to curb the evil, imperialist impulses of America. Do you understand?”
Rumsfeld dropped his pipe.
“See, now you dropped your weapon. And now you have lifted up your hand in a sign of peace while tensing your fingers, and now you are running towards, and now… ack… urk…”

“In international news, the so-called ‘Rumsfeld Strangler’ has struck in Cuba, killing three representatives of Amnesty International,” said the anchorwoman, “Leaving behind a note saying, ‘I, Donald Rumsfeld, Secretary of War, have strangled these people and will strangle more as soon as I find them.’ Amnesty International said that, while the strangling of their people is a bad thing, they don’t want to draw attention from the much worse violation of human rights by the twenty percent price hike on drinks for terrorists at Gitmo.
“So far, there are no leads on the killer, but Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was later asked by reporters and how he felt about a serial killer using his name. He responded with quote, ‘I strangled those people, you idiots, and now I’m going to strangle all of you for being so dumb.’ Incidentally, all those reporters were soon found dead for unrelated reasons involving strangling.”
“I guess the mystery of the Rumsfeld Strangler will never be solved, Diane,” commented the anchorman.
“Probably not. Anyway, on to our next story: Canadians – inconsequential neighbors to the North or moose worshipping cannibals?”

Frank Suggestions for Campaign Ads

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Jonah Goldberg put out a suggested campaign ad for President Bush, and I was thinking that whatever Goldberg can do, I can do better. Here are my own ad suggestions (based on the assumption that John Kerry is the nominee).

This one will settle all the issues about President Bush’s military service.
Black and white picture of John Kerry with ominous sounding music.
ANNOUNCER: Kerry likes to tout his military record in Vietnam and belittle Bush’s National Guard Service in Alabama but…
Picture of evacuation of Saigon.
ANNOUNCER: Fact: We lost in Vietnam, and that country is now ruled by Communists.
Picture of happy looking southerners.
ANNOUNCER: Fact: Alabama was protected during the seventies and now has a stable – albeit crude – democracy.
Fade to black.
GRAPHIC: Re-Elect George Bush – He fights battles we can win

This ad should put the special interest money issue in perspective.
Black and white picture of John Kerry with ominous sounding music.
ANNOUNCER: Kerry likes to pretend he cares about regular people, when in fact he gets tons of money from special interests.
Color picture of a smiling George Bush.
ANNOUNCER: And, though it is true that President Bush gets even more money, he get so much that in fact odds are that you, watching this now, are one of those special interest money donators.
Cut to President Bush in the Oval Office.
BUSH: I would just like to thank you for the money, and I promise to spend it on great ads like this.
Fade to black.
GRAPHIC: Re-Elect George Bush – Vote for the man you donated to
Paid for by the Bush Reelection Campaign and you.

This one is kind of a cheap shot, but, hey, that’s politics for you.
Video of the liberation of Iraq.
ANNOUNCER: Liberals like to say that President Bush didn’t find any WMD’s.
Cut to President Bush in the Oval Office.
BUSH: But it’s not true. I have found WMD’s, and — THEY’RE IN JOHN KERRY’S FACE! BOO-YEAH!
Picture of John Kerry.
ANNOUNCER: That’s right. John Kerry is a sissy-boy who uses botox injection so he can better admire himself in the mirror.
Fade to black.
GRAPHIC: Re-Elect George Bush – Don’t vote for a sissy-boy

This one will have a high production cost, but it should play well with the MTV crowd… who I don’t really want voting. Anyway, this one is kickass!
Scene: Debate between Bush and an actor playing Kerry.
KERRY: I think the American people really are focused on trivial, inane issues, and that’s what I plan to make them my priority as president.
Suddenly a throwing star barely misses Kerry’s head and ninjas slide down to the stage from ropes.
AUDIENCE: Oh no! Ninjas!
Kerry ducks behind his podium.
KERRY: Someone protect my important looking hair!
MEMBER OF AUDIENCE: Ninjas are trying to destroy democracy!
Cut to close up of Bush who squints his eyes menacingly.
BUSH: Not while I’m president.
Bush defeats all the ninjas in a well-choreographed kung fu fight.
BUSH: Nothing a real president can’t handle.
AUDIENCE: On no! Terrorists!
Cut to long shot showing terrorists with AK-47’s surrounding the stage.
HEAD TERRORIST: We are here to terrorize Americans for nonsensical reasons involving Allah and Jews and such.
KERRY (still ducking behind podium): This wasn’t agreed to in the debate format!
BUSH: There are too many for me to handle myself!
A grenade lands near the terrorists’ feet and explodes. Arnold Schwarzenegger burst into the fray firing an M-60.
AUDIENCE: It’s California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger!
ARNOLD: Terrorists are veak and puny! I crush them! I am Ah-nuld!
Bush pulls out a Colt .45, and he and Arnold kill all the terrorists.
AUDIENCE: Yay! Bush and the Republicans have saved us from ninjas and terrorists!
Kerry finally gets up from behind his podium.
KERRY: Now can we stop talking about terrorism and get back to the trivial and petty issues that are at hand?
ARNOLD: You are veak and puny!
Arnold picks up Kerry and throws him through the back wall.
Bush poses before Arnold.
BUSH: If you want a president who knows how to work with federal and local government to kill ninjas and terrorists, make sure to vote for me in November. Right, Governor?
ARNOLD: Dah!

So, put your own ad ideas in the comments section, but keep it clean for God’s sake and no more bickering. Also, if anyone posts “First!”, my new policy is I’ll change it to “I poop my pants.”
UPDATE: Ike has one of my ads done in flash. Go check it out.

Love Thy Neighbor

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I usually like to make fun of other countries, because, well, I’m American, and it’s hard to understand the existence of other countries for any other reason than as targets of my ridicule. I’m going to try and be introspective, though, and I ask all other Americans reading this to do the same. For international readers, this isn’t really directed at you, but you can read it anyway or just play in your squalor.
Now, my compatriots, imagine for a moment you didn’t live in the most powerful, richest country in the world. Imagine there was another nation out there that made your homeland seem weak and pathetic in comparison. Pretend that your culture was stupid and silly compared to the great imports from some other land. And imagine that no matter how hard your nation tried, it would never have more than a fraction of the riches and power of some other country that shined above all others.
Now imagine that your meager, pathetic excuse for a “nation” sat right next to this Olympus, this god among worms. If your mind can grasp that, then you might understand how Mexico and Canada feels.
We, my friends, are a mansion of immeasurable wealth and size, a Xanadu, while on one side of us sits a two bedroom house you’d never give a second look at and on the other is a run down shack. So how do you think our neighbors look at us? They know they can never measure up, even if they tried, so there is some amount of spite directed at us.
Now, as regular readers of this site know, I make fun of the Canadians quite a lot while I hardly ever direct barbs at the Mexicans. There’s good reason for this. The Canadians actually try and convince themselves they are our betters, while the Mexicans pretty much have given up. Most of the Mexicans just try and escape to here, which make much more logical sense than pretending the cardboard box you sit in is a real fort. I think some people were shocked when they heard that some Mexicans heckled an American soccer team by chanting “Osama! Osama!” – shocked by learning that we Americans actually stoop to engaging in that European sissy sport and that the Mexicans could be so mean. While I can’t defend the former, the latter is expected. With how easy it is to illegally immigrate to this country, the Mexicans actually left in Mexico must really, really hate us.
Anyway, back to Canada (it just seems mean to bash the Mexicans for very long; poor guys – here’s a quarter). Canada likes to delude themselves into thinking they’re better than us, which, though it can be cute at times, is often annoying. They make fun of us for not knowing much about Canada without even stopping to think of our viewpoint on that issue, which is, “Why in God’s name would we ever need to know anything about Canada?” I mean, I don’t know the name of Canada’s president or prime minister or grand czar or whatever their leader is called same as I don’t know the name of the queen of the anthill in my backyard; it’s completely inconsequential to me. Canadians just can’t seem to accept that they mean nothing to us. Even Mexico has more influence on American culture than them; we have Mexican restaurants everywhere, but no Canadian restaurants. No one in America knows what Canadians eat, nor are they even slightly curious.
Still Canadians try to match up with us. They even have money just like ours, in all the same denominations, but not worth as much and in fruity colors. Have you ever held a Canadian penny? It’s a mind-blowing experience. There in your hand is something actually worth less than one cent. Seeing the Canadian penny is as close as the human mind can come to grasping the concept of absolute nothingness.
You’d think that they’d at least try hard to be useful at something – at one thing at all – so we Americans can respect them in some small measure. But, while we are busy fighting terrorism and standing as the one barrier against the whole world imploding, the top worry in Canada right now is that a puppet made fun of them.
So how does a nation get so silly and inconsequential? The Canadians are too focused on trying to differentiate themselves from us than improving themselves. Such as how they like to tout their universal healthcare:

“I just shot myself in a hunting accident, and then a moose trampled me, eh.”
“Well, I just put you down on the list and the doctor will see you aboot two weeks, eh.”

And then a great number of them are French speaking. FRENCH SPEAKING! Of all the cultures in the world to try and emulate, they chose the cheese-eating surrender monkeys. That’s almost a cry for help, as stark a sign of mental health problems as someone who likes to cut himself with a razor blade.
I guess my point is that we, as Americans, need to pay more attention to our neighbors… and not with mockery. Instead, they need our sympathy and our pity. As the greatest people on earth who ever were or ever will be, we Americans should help other nation make themselves better than they are (but still much less than us). We should gently try to guide Canada to better mental health. And, if gentle doesn’t work, then we go on to tried and true shock therapy. As for Mexico, I suggest a really large wall (hey, a few of them need to stay in their own country if it is ever going to improve).
In the least, we need to continue to try and understand what it’s like to live in other nations as it makes us better people, and, even greater than that, better Americans.
I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this subject… but no foreigners please. You people have enough problems as it is, and I don’t want to add to them by giving any of you of swelled ego by making you think your viewpoints matter to us Americans. Have fun in your “countries”.
Peace.
UPDATE: For more than you ever wanted to know about Canadians (which is, well, anything), check out the Carnival of the Canucks.

Mini-Contest Update

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I’m planning on the top ten topic being unveiled on Thursday. More news as things firm up. While Emperor Misha I has agreed to post the topic, Susie of Practical Penumbra will be the one accepting the submissions to keep things fair and make sure everyone (including me) meets the deadline, as I need no advantage to utterly destroy anyone who would try and match up to me.
Tomorrow, for a change, I have serious piece taking and introspective look at what it’s like to be another nation.
No, really, it is serious.
I can write serious.
No you shut up.
Anyway, keep refreshing your browser in anticipation of its appearance tomorrow. See you then.