Sorry I’ve been too mad to be funny lately (a great IMAudiO is coming Monday, though).
Check out Iowahawk for a great Katrina news round up.
Gutfeld has the application to be a Huffington Post Bush Basher!
Archive of entries posted on 8th September 2005
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 25 – A Small Universe
BEGINNING OF STORY
PREVIOUS (PART 24)
“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.”
“Yeah.”
“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.”
“Eventually.”
“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.
“Why?”
“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.
NEXT
Ephesians 4:26
“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)
and he kept the laughs.
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…
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?
White!
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.