Vindication! Best of the Web points out today that Jackass: The Movie tied Fahrenheit 9/11 in its opening if you adjust for inflation. I’ve updated my orginal post once more.
Derbyshire (the coolest NRO writer) has a great math test joke at the end of this post.
Hey, there’s Michelle Malkin on Fox News right now as I type this. When do I get my T.V. appearances?
Sandor has a neat map of bloggers’ political views. It would be great if more high profile bloggers participated (hint hint).
A Joatmoaf sent this in as a contribution towards my documentary:
Everyone else get brainstorming. This documentary can either be done with videoclips or maybe a flash slideshow, but I’ll need others’ help to do it. It’s time to show the world how nuts the opposition is (and fat).
Archive of entries posted on June 2004
The Dark Forces Align
In case you haven’t seen this rumor yet…
I stick by a prediction I believe I said before that, if John Kerry has Hillary as his running mate and is elected president, he will have the distinction of the shortest term in office, mysteriously dying minutes after his inauguration.
Only question is will Hillary be cleaner about this one than she was with Vince Foster. And she better be careful, too; Kerry did serve in Vietnam, you may know.
UPDATE: Murder is wrong.
UPDATE 2: The comment about shooting Hillary was from a 13 year old who still needs some learning and was removed on request.
Time to Fight Half-Truths with Three Quarter-Truths
I have a great idea: Let’s do our own little documentary short about how wacked out and nuts the left is! I’m sure there are plenty of clips of liberal wackiness out there, but I wonder if some careful editing can make them looking even more nutty.
So, how does one get his hands on news clips for a documentary? All we would have to do is splice the stuff together and have some great narration by me with my deep, authoratative voice (I really should blog with my voice more, but I don’t know how to do hyperlinks when I do that).
I already have a great title: Michael Moore is Fat and Ugly: An Intelligent Look at the Left. The goal will be to show through carefully selected “facts” that all liberals are dangers to the society and want to kill us in our sleep and coddle dictators. Oh, and we’ll need to get some clips from Return of the Jedi for segments about Michael Moore.
So, anyone have film experience and know what to do and want to help? If we make it short and can get some film clips without too much trouble, doing this shouldn’t be too hard. Plus it should be fun!
Oh… so many ideas… heh heh heh…
Frank Answers: Donut and After Market T-Shirt Options
For winning the questions for John Kerry contest, Bob Owens got to send me two questions for Frank Answers™ (I never got any from the runners up, BTW).
Anyhoo, here are the questions:
Question 1:
Rumour has it you write content for the site wearing nothing but a glazed doughnut. My questions is: Krispy Kreme or Dunkin’?
That’s just a weird and stupid question. You are weird and stupid. You were given a chance to aske me anything, and this is what you came up with? Fool, I call thee.
Given a choice, though, Krispy Kreme. Mmm… Krispy Kreme. I love the icing filled ones.
Question 2:
Is it possible to order a “Nuke the Moon” t-shirt with the SarakK option pre-installed, or is that strictly after market?
Sorry, SarahK does not come with the t-shirts, nor can she ever be bought by money. If I knew the key to winning over SarahK, I wouldn’t share it with you, you weird donut-question-asker. Such a secret I would keep to myself while laughing at all others. Actually, I’ll just laugh at all others now.
Ha ha ha ha!
Now on to other business…
If you have any questions for me, especially scientific in topic, don’t send them to me because I’m tired of questions.
You Don’t Fact Check My Ass; I Fact Check Your Ass
Now that the IMAO exclusive debunking of Fahrenheit 9/11‘s supposed record making has been cited by Andrew Sullivan, a number of people have disputed my facts. I’ve updated the orginal post to say how I’m still right (my regular readers are probably saying, “Of course you’re right; you’re Frank.” If only others were so wise).
UPDATE: Question for my regular readers: The extra linkage has seemed to attract a number of muckadoos. Should I explain to them the humor behind comparing Fahrenheit 9/11 and Jackass: The Movie, or should I continue to watch them writhe and pretend to debate them on the merits like I did with The Limey?
Ronin Thought of the Day
Frank Advice on Putting Saddam on Trial
Now that Saddam has been turned over to Iraqis, it’s time for a trial. Is there anything cooler than that? A once oppressed people now get to put on trial their former dictator; that’s a meme I hope spreads.
Being the humanitarian I am and much smarter than that bafoonish Eugene Volokh who’s never linked to me (even I’ve linked to me), I’m going to give the Iraqis advice on how to conduct their trial:
* Don’t shoot Saddam before he at least gets in his plea or there may be some cries that the trial is illegitimate.
* Invite people to be character witnesses for Saddam; anyone who speaks up for him should be the next target for trial and execution.
* Whether you let cameras in the courtroom or not should be based on how much you want this to be labeled the “Trial of the Century.” Just a reminder: since we’re less than five years into this century, this trial has a pretty good shot.
* Remember to wear black robes and nicely powdered wigs because it will make anything you do seem official.
* Saddam deserves his own defense attorney for a fair trial; you can always put his lawyer on trial later for helping a murderous dictator.
* Body slamming Saddam into a table doesn’t officially count as cross-examination, but it should leave a lasting impression on the jury. Would a prosecutor body slam an innocent man?
* Though the videotape of him having a kitten tossing contest is somewhat damning, focus mainly on the mass graves.
* It will be funny if you shave off Saddam’s mustache at put on a table labeled as “Exhibit A”.
Well, I’ll laugh.
* If Saddam shouts, “You can’t handle the truth!” be careful continuing; he might not be bluffing.
* If some Amnesty International types say that execution is barbaric, tell them that Iraqis law states that anyone objecting to execution also gets executed. No one knows what Iraqis law is; they’ll fall for it.
* Don’t allow any rhyming in the closing statement; that seems to have an irrational effect on juries.
* Before the jury goes out to deliberate, have the judge remind them that Saddam is a murderous dictator and deserves to die.
* If Saddam isn’t found guilty and sentenced to death, you messed up and need to start over and try again.
Now have a fun trial, Iraqis; you deserve it!
Links of the Day
Yay! I’m always reloading opinionjournal.com in the late afternoon waiting for Best of the Web to appear (as I’ve been doing even before I started my own blog), and I find today myself cited (look for ‘9/11’ Is No. 2) among their other useful wisdom of the day! Hooray! (it’s my second time to be cited by them, actually). I had thought my scoop on claims of Michael Moore’s film not actually breaking any records was worth e-mailing other blogs about (none of whom posted it) but I hadn’t even thought of trying Best of the Web. You know my last correspondence to them.
One of those I e-mailed who gave no response (that’s right; actually ignored an e-mail from me!) was Glenn Reynolds, who for the record, said that he thinks Michael Moore is the greatest person ever and would love to share a puppy shake with him… or something to that effect.
Plus, is Glenn now going to kill Mike Tyson?
Kim du Toit has a great post on accuracy in shooting, which leads to the question: How should I approach shooting at the shooting range if my goals are good self-defense shooting and icing my rival drug dealers? (hat tip to Barking Moonbat… though I really should be reading du Toit on my own).
This cartoonist seems to be implying that Rumsfeld is Chomps. Shades of Fight Club?
Finally, Laurence Simon thinks more rally bombings are needed. Sounds like a start, though I still want my S.M.I.T.E.
So… Why Are You So Fat?
It was a lot of fun getting questions for John Kerry, so let’s do it again but for Michael Moore. He ducked an interview on Fox News and won’t answer questions that aren’t prescreened, but what would you ask him if you were able to pose any question to him? Those who come up with the best questions get to ask me a question for Frank Answers™ (which reminds me: I still have the previous one to answer – maybe tomorrow).
So, what would you ask Michael Moore?
UPDATE: Contest is closed. Winners announced soon.
Ronin Thought of the Day
From Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai:
There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.
Accept your fate and be at peace.
In My World: Attack of the Moore-ons
“PARTY!” Bush screamed as he jumped around his office. Rumsfeld drank some whiskey while Cheney and Condi danced to a techno beat. “We did it! We handed over Iraq.”
An aide ran into the room. “A giant mutant squid is attacking Iraq at the behest of the Legion of Doom!”
“Not our problem anymore!” Bush shouted, “Now get out of here! We’re celebrating!”
Chomps ran into the room with Clinton’s portrait in his mouth and started angrily tearing it apart. “That’s some good celebrating!” Bush commented. “Who couldn’t be happy right now?”
“Jeeves!” Kerry yelled at his butler, “Has there been any bad news from Iraq yet?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Argh!” Kerry screamed, “I served in Vietnam!”
“Yes, I know, sir.”
“I would like to remind you,” Scott McClellan told Bush, “that there are still terrorists loose in Iraq, that Osama bin Laden is still at large, that…”
“Hey, Scott!” Bush shouted, “See if you can catch this paperweight with your head!” Bush threw the paperweight, hitting Scott in forehead and knocking him unconscious.
“He was supposed to give a press conference, you know,” Condi said.
“Whatever,” Bush answered, “I’ll just do it.”
“Melinda Hawkish from Fox News. So, Mr. President, does the hand off in power mean we’ll being getting ready for another war soon and thus have more cool war footage?”
“I hope so,” Bush answered, “It really is a great day for the Iraqi people and especially for me. I feel so good, I’m going to beat the crap out of a reporter.”
“I have a question about Abu Grahib,” said a reporter.
“Thank you for volunteering,” Bush said and then leapt on the reporter and started pummeling him. “Make sure you don’t misquote me! Heh heh!”
“Bush baaaad,” came a groan. Bush looked up to see horrible zombie creatures headed at him.
“Just when you’re having a great day,” Bush grumbled, “zombies attack.”
The zombies were almost onto Bush when Zatoichi jumped into the fray, cutting them all down with his cane sword.
Bush sighed in relief. “And to think of all the officials who said I shouldn’t hire a blind Yakuza gangster as a Secret Service agent.”
“I smelt evil, so I came. Now you pay me ten ryo.”
“But…”
In a blink of an eye, Ichi drew and resheathed his sword while Bush’s tie fell in two. “Fine,” Bush said as he handed over the gold coins. “Now we better go find out what this is about. To the batcave!”
“The what?”
“Uh… the war room, I mean.”
“Clancy, you’re my intelligence guy; what’s this about?” Bush asked.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” Clancy said, “but these zombies are creatures known as Moore-ons – easily influenced liberals zombified by Michael Moore’s propaganda piece Fahrenheit 9/11.”
“Who the hell is Michael Moore?” Bush asked.
“An experiment gone bad,” Clancy said ominously, “The liberals were always trying to create their own Rush Limbaugh since Limbaugh first became a success. To this end, they got some Limbaugh DNA from a discarded cigar. The genes were incomplete, though, and they finished the chromosomes with genes from warthog, gorilla, and skunk DNA. Thus came about the hideous creation known as Michael Moore.”
“Where did you get all this information?”
“Off the internet from a bunch of sites that didn’t have sources. Anyway, we know that Michael Moore is currently on his sail barge flying over a desert in California while hosting a number of high-profile celebrities.”
“And I bet if we defeat him, he’ll lose his influence over the Moore-ons,” Bush concluded.
“Sure, why not,” Clancy said, “Anyway, it’s time for lunch.”
“What are you having?”
“That’s classified.” Clancy left the room.
“Rumsfeld, Ichi, Chomps – we’re all going to sneak onto that sail barge,” Bush stated.
“What about me?” Condi asked.
Bush patted her on the head. “You’re just a girl. Why don’t you stay here and bake us a pie for when we return.”
Condi growled.
“Oh, and if Scott comes out of his coma before I get back, you put on the ape mask to greet him as he wakes.”
“Now remember,” Bush said as they entered the sail barge, “I’m Rick Iron, movie action star. Rumsfeld, you Israel Goldstein, Jewish producer. Chomps, you’re Crazy Jaw, Native American punk rocker. Oh, and Zatoichi, for your part you’ll have to pretend to be deaf.”
“You’re an idiot,” Ichi said.
“Now let’s all keep our cool. Something else to mention: the psychobabble liberal speak has evolved into its own language known as Liberalese which many here speak. Luckily, I’m multi-language-al.”
A man with white skin and what looked like two tentacles on his head walked towards the four of them. “Die Wanna Wanga!” he demanded.
“We’ve come to see Michael Moore,” Bush answered, “We’ve brought gifts of fatty foods.”
“Nee Moore no badda. Me chaade su goodie.” The servant reached for the foods.
“Hey, grabby, we’re only giving them to Moore in person!” Bush yelled.
The man looked angry, but then motioned for them to follow. “Nudd Chaa.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ichi uttered.
“I just have to say that Moore fans sure are weird looking,” Bush whispered back.
They soon came to the main room where a number of celebrities were partying and saying how much they hated Bush. At the end of the room was a large platform on which the corpulent Michael Moore rested his bulk. Seated on the platform near his feet was a deranged looking Al Franken laughing hysterically. Moore reached into a bowl near him and pulled out a creature that looked like a frog and swallowed it whole, slime trailing down his mouth.
“Just act calm,” Bush said, “First we’ll…”
“I’ll strangle you, you fat bastard! Rarr!” Rumsfeld yelled as he leapt at Michael Moore. “Neck… too fat… to get… hands around…”
“Try using a chain!” Bush suggested.
“I only strangle with my hands!” Rumsfeld answered.
Chomps ran to help, but a large metal cage trapped him. He gnawed at the bars but it was no use.
“Ho ho ho,” Moore laughed as Rumsfeld gave up his useless strangling attempt, “Kaa bazza kundee hodrudda.”
Green pig guards with axes surrounded Bush, Rumsfeld, and Ichi. “These are either weird pig mutants,” Bush said, “or teamsters.”
“Sometimes I’m glad I can’t see,” Ichi commented.
“Hee hee hee,” Al Franken giggled.
“Chone manya weesh asha beecho,” Moore laughed.
“So what did he just say?” Rumsfeld asked.
“Uh… something about car rentals… I think.”
“We live through this, I’m strangling you!”
Bush, Ichi, and Rumsfeld had their hands bound and were on a skiff floating near the barge. In front of them was a plank extended over South Central L.A. Below, they could see gang bangers just waiting to bust a cap in their asses.
“You do have to say, it was an interesting presidency,” Bush said.
“Wherever you end up in the afterlife,” Rumsfeld answered, “I will find you and hurt you. And poor Chomps; he’s locked in the storage on the barge where it’s too dark for him to see anything to be angry at. That will make him angry.”
Drugged hippy guards started ushering them with spears to jump off the plank. Suddenly a gunshot was heard, and Ichi’s bonds were gone. His cane sword was then tossed to him, and he immediately cut down the hippies and freed Bush and Rumsfeld with a couple quick strokes.
On top of the barge stood Condi with a rifle. “Condi!” Bush exclaimed, “Did you bring the pie?”
“I’m here to save your asses, idiot!”
“Well, we’re fine now,” Bush answered, “We’re perfectly in con…” Bush slipped and fell off the barge, Rumsfeld barely grabbing him in time. Bush then saw Terry McAuliffe sneaking up behind Zatoichi.
“Terry McAuliffe!” Bush shouted.
“Terry McAuliffe?! Terry McAuliffe?! Where?” Ichi then swung back and accidentally hit McAuliffe with his cane, knocking him off the skiff to the streets below.
Condi took the large mounted gun on top of the barge, pointed it to the deck, and kicked it to start it firing. She then swung over to the skiff just as Rumsfeld pulled Bush up. “Let’s get out of here!” Bush yelled as he sent the skiff flying away from the exploding barge.
“Nooooooo!!!” Moore shouted as the barge went crashing into the ground.
“Yay!” Bush yelled, “We blew up Moore and countless other celebrities. Now let’s stop at supermarket because I really had my heart set on a pie.”
“I survived!” Moore exclaimed as he lay in the smoldering ruins of the barge. “Too bad I’m too fat to upright myself. Wait, there’s a Native American punk rocker coming this way; maybe he’ll help me. He looks angry, though… very angry…
AHHH! NOT AGAIN!!!”
Links of the Day
If you want a more serious take on Michael Moore, read Jonah Goldberg’s column today.
Smart people read IMAO everyday says one out of one smart people.
Michelle Malkin has a contest for coming up with t-shirt slogans for celebrities (I already put down my idea).
Blackfive has a Marine’s response to the capture of one of their own.
Our Military XXI
Here are more military stories. I’d like to keep this going as long as I can, so, if you’d like to give your own explanation of why you joined the military or have a military story, please e-mail me with the subject “Military”. Thanks.
This was posted by John in my comments, but I thought it needed more exposure:
I have buried a few Marines. The last one was during the Clinton adminstration. After the minister says his peace, Taps is played and the salute is fired, the flag is folded and presented to the familiy. As you give the wife / mother the flag you are supposed to say “On behalf of a greatful nation and the President of the United States, I present you this flag as a token of appreciation for your husband’s faithfull service.” I substituted the “Commandant of the Marine Corps” for the president. The ladies husband had died, no reason to insult her further.
I have also buried a few Soldiers and Sailors. The Army had a policy that they would not travel more than 50 miles to bury a veteran. The Marine Corps policy was that we would go wherever. So soldeir’s families started calling us for help. This made the news, Army policy changed.
The sailors had been Corpsmen who served with the Marines and wanted us to do the ceremony. One called to talk to me about it before he died. He wanted to make sure that we would do it, he “didn’t want any sailors messing up his funeral.” I assured him it would be no problem and told him to give my name and number to the funeral director he was going to use. Got a call three days later. Sad business, all of the details I did where for older veterans, doing one for one of these teenagers getting killed in IZ would be rough.
DNice writes:
I’ve written a couple of military emails already, but I thought I’d share my most embarrassing moment in the military, just for a laugh (at my expense).
We were on bivouac while I was going through US Army Chemical School at Ft. McClellan, AL. We were at Pelham Range training area off of Ft.
McClellan.
They taught us that the easiest way to go #2 when in the field (and not cr*p in your pants accidentally while copping a squat) was to lean with your back to a tree. This position allows you to do your business in the greatest comfort and least mess.
I woke up in the middle of the night and nature was calling. I crawled out of my tent and decided to warm up at the fire barrel first. There were 2 or 3 other guys there keeping warm (it was November in Alabama … yeah I know, but did get cold at night.) After a few minutes, I took off into the dark with my ET (that’s Entrenching Tool for all you civilian types.. a funky folding shovel) and my roll of TP. Problem was, in the dark, you can’t see too well. And you certainly can’t see that where they burned the underbrush away at this camp site so we’d have a nice open area to put up our tents, they’d also burned the bottoms of the small to medium trees right through.
Its a shame you can’t see that in the dark, because that is useful information. I could have used that information just before I dropped my pants and put my back against the tree. But, I didn’t have that information. And I was now rolling around on the ground with my pants around my ankles, trying to find my TP, and my ET … and my pride.
I found another tree … TESTED IT, this time, and took care of business. When I got back to the fire barrel the two guys there just looked at me in disbelief. “What the heck were you doing out there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” as I walked straight past them to my tent.
ALWAYS test your trees, gentlemen!
Finally, here is a narrative on joining the military by Barney Rubble:
When I was in the first grade I used to get chased home by the other kids in the neighborhood.I suppose it had something to do with my personality, me being six years old, they being in the 4th, 5th and 6th grade.
Anyway one afternoon I was running home from the bus stop (I Was being chased…again). It had rained that afternoon and the rest of the kids were picking up mud clods and throwing them at me. I made feeble attempts to throw some mud back but, this only resulted in my being hit in the face with mud clods. I was getting pelted left and right. Since I lacked any real athletic ability, my throwing mud back at my pursuers was in vain. I saw my apartment complex and hastily retreated inside.
Once inside my tormentors continued to throw mud at the door in which I had just gone through, they were also hitting the various windows next to the door. I stuck my head out to agravate the kids who were pelting me. “You missed me, NYaaa…CLOMP”, I had just gotten hit once again, this time in the mouth. As I retreated into the complex once again I couldn’t help but notice that the floor in the complex was covered with mud (I was hit with a barrage). I also noticed this strange man, at least feet tall with a flat top, poking his head out of his apartment.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE YOU STUPID LITTLE F*#K”, he inquired.
“There’s these kids throw…”, I tried to reply.
“SHUT THE F*#k UP AND TAKE A LOOK AT THIS MESS. WHO IS GOING CLEAN THIS SH!T UP?”.
“I…uhh, don’t know, the janitor”, I suggested.
“I’m the janitor you dumbass and I sure as hell ain’t cleaning up this sh!t”.
He then retreated into his apartment and got out some cleaing supplies. I then did my first field day (unbeknownst to me). After I had done a satisfactory job he then looked at me inquisively. “What are you gonna be when you grow up?”.
Trying to sound tough (and being that I saw a movie with Jeffrey Hunter fighting the Japanese the day before) I relpied, “I gonna be a Marine”.
“OH, you are! Wait right here”. He retreated into the apartment again. This time he returned with a thick brochure (a Marine recruitment tract for sure). It was glossy 8 x 11 showing a bunch of bald headed guys going throught what the man called “boot camp”. This looked scary since all the pictures showed this guy with a big green hat yelling at the bald guys as they were doing push ups, obsatcle courses, shooting, etc.
I asked, “why are these guys getting yelled at?”
“Well that’s because they are getting ready for war, most of these recruits will be going to Viet Nam. The Drill Instructor is yelling at them to psych them up, get them motivated to fight for their country, and also to remind them that they are not a bunch of pussies”.
“Oh!”.
I kept turning the pages some black and white photos appeared showing some guys in the woods, they looked cold.
“World War 1, Belleau Woods”, he explained.
More pictures, this time the guys looked like they were out of the Jeffrey Hunter flick.
“Iwo Jima”.
More photos of Korea and Viet Nam. then the final photo was of a Marine in his dress blues. He had a purple medal with a white stripe on it.
“What he get that for?”, I questioned. “Oh he was injured in battle and lived to tell about it. Here”, pulled off his shoe and showed me his wooden foot, “I got his in Viet Nam at_____________[insert some village that only a 6 year old would forget]”.
“That’s neat”, I replied “can I get a purple heart when I join the Marines”.
“Maybe, go ahead and keep the magazine”.
So I went home and showed my mom. I told her I wanted to be a Marine, go to boot camp and get yelled at. Then I would go to Viet Nam get my leg blowed off so I could get a Purple Heart. My Mom protested and said we would move to Cananada before that would happen.
Twelve years later we were still living in the U.S. and I had gone to my first year of college earning a whopping 1.20 G.P.A. (Smoked a lot of pot I did). So she was bugging me about getting a full time job during the summer, going to summer school, doing chores around the house and not going to any summertime parties (basically anything that would make me feel miserable as only a parent would want their kid to be miserable). Being fully depressed about my circumstances I went to my room to do what most young men do best. Low and behold At the bottom of my pile of Hustler magazines I saw this 8 X 11 glossy recruitment brochure for the Marines.
“Hey mom rememeber when I said I wanted to be a Marine….”
Those Records Ain’t Broken… They’re Not Even Scratched
Some are saying that Fahrenheit 9/11 set records for a documentary, being the first ever to debut in the number one spot and already having the highest gross for a documentary with $21.8 million over the weekend. I looked it up, though, and it is total bunk. If marginally staged events filmed for entertainment value is what makes a documentary, then Jackass: The Movie actually set those records. It debuted at number one with a gross of $22.8 million. It also had less erroneous assertions than a Michael Moore documentary.
Yeah, that’s right; we’re the blogosphere and we’ll fact-check your ass (and with Michael Moore, that’s a – ah, forget it; obvious joke).
UPDATE: The adjusted gross of Fahrenheit 9/11‘s opening is higher than Jackass‘s, but Jackass still was a documentary that premiered at number one before Michael Moore’s film (one record claimed) and it still has a higher total gross for a documentary ($64.2 million) than Moore’s film (the other record mentioned in the article cited; it falsely says that Bowling for Columbine with $21.6 million total gross previously held that record).
I’m not claiming to be an authoritative source; I’m just making the more meager claim that I’m more authoritative than CNN and Michael Moore.
UPDATE 2: Anyone who disputes me is a goober. Yeah, I mean you, goober.
If you still don’t believe in my fact-checking ability, just see all the great facts I compiled on Michael Moore here.
UPDATE 3: Best of the Web points out, that, if you adjust for inflation, Jackass: The Movie ties Fahrenheit 9/11 for its opening take. That makes me extra-super-right about everything and all who doubts me that much more of a goober.
Whether Fahrenheit 9/11 will have the long lasting political effects of Jackass is yet to be seen.