The Holy Grail Press

Bad Joke of the Week

2007-05-24T11:28:00.000-05:00

Why don't they bury mules?

Because no one wants to dig an ass hole.

Career Plans

2007-05-21T14:15:00.000-05:00

I had an epiphany this weekend: Nobody cares if you're addicted to gambling if you're really good at it. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that that would apply for anything. People are willing to forgive you for doing anything, and even pay you for it, if you're really, really good at it. Wanna spend your entire life stoned? Tommy Chong. Wanna spend your entire life having sex with beautiful co-eds? Hugh Hefner. Wanna get away with murder? OJ. Kinda puts life in perspective.

After Thirty Years

2007-05-04T13:41:00.000-05:00

Could you ride in an elevator
with your old lover
an a city far away
and she not even recognize
that once
yes, once
so far from here
you had each whispered
those things no one else was meant to hear

And you say hello
and she says hello
never realizing
how far together you've grown apart

And yes, dear
the toilets do spin
in the wrong direction
back home

Buenos Aires, December 2007

Selling Your Soul in a Buyer's Market

2007-05-04T13:34:00.000-05:00

So... I was lying in bed last night thinking... What if you were to offer to sell your soul, but you don't want the normal stuff, like fame and riches and eternal life. What if you decided to sell it for the most ridiculous thing you could possibly think of, like being the King of Wisconsin. That way, if you actually became the King of Wisconsin, then you'd know that it was true. That there really was a devil. Of course, you'd be screwed, but at least you'd know.

And that led to another thought. If you became the King of Wisconsin, then the devil would definitely be outed. Is that something the devil would truly want? I mean, to remove all doubt from everybody that he exists? How much more business would he lose if everybody suddenly knew, beyone a doubt, that he exists? And if that's the case, then your soul's not worth it.

And that led to another thought. What's a soul worth? Not necessarily to the people that has them, but to the devil that wants them. Are some souls worth more? For instance, would the Pope's soul be worth more than, say, George W's (assuming that he doesn't have one or both already)? Who would the devil be willing to out himself for?

And that led to another thoguht: I need to get stronger sleeping pills.

Those Things I Ponder

2007-05-03T12:46:00.000-05:00

Why is it that people get stoned and then spend the entire time pretending they're not stoned?

What if today were National Dress Like A Clown Day, and you were the only person who didn't get the memo?

And finally, why isn't there such a thing as Gomorramy? I mean, think about it. God destroyed both Sodom and Gomorrah because they were both evil. But it's only Sodom that's got the bad rap. Could you be Gomorramized? Would you want to be?

Shallow Thoughts

2007-05-02T08:29:00.000-05:00

Simple people search for simple answers, and they find them.

Just an observation: At the school I teach at (and if memory serves me, others I have taught at) students often bring Bibles to school. I don't have a problem with that; it's their right and all those other things you say when you don't want to offend people -- but then, if they're reading this blog, it's probably too late anyway. But I digress. So anyway, all these kids bring their Bibles to school, and they're all boys. In fact, I can't ever remember seeing a girl with a Bible at school. We also have an Fellowship of Christian Athletes here, and the majority of the members are boys, way beyond the normal ratio of boys/girls sports. I don't know what that means, if anything. I just find it interesting.

Modesty

2007-05-02T08:19:00.000-05:00

I wanna write
the kind of poem that everybody is supposed to like
and it will be studied
and disected
and diagrammed
until every nuance
has been debated
in journals ans seminars and Internet chatrooms
by stuffy academics with no sense of humor whatsoever
so many times
until no one no longer
gives a damn
And everybody
I mean everybody
can no longer remember
why anybody ever thought it was good
much less worthy of literary merit
to ever begin with
Yeah
I'd be content with that

Take One Down, Pass it Around...

2007-05-01T12:39:00.000-05:00

Why aren't there designated drunks? You know, someone to show up at an event where you don't normally find drunks, like church picnics, AA meetings, or baby showers, and just get trashed.
"What's the matter with Larry?"
"Oh, don't worry about him. He's the designated drunk. He'll be passing out pretty soon."

And why don't you ever see a car with a bumper sticker that says, "How's My Drinking?" And just what 800 number would they have you call? 1800-BARFNOW?

The Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch Newsletter #17

2007-04-30T09:18:00.000-05:00

Troop Surge

My Fellow Americans,

In the run up to the 2008 presidental election, it has become fashionable to question the judgment of our current President, especially concerning his policies in Iraq. Some candidates even state that the President, at best, is an incompetent buffoon. Shame on these naysayers.

All our leaving Iraq will do is deny American soldiers the opportunity to have been killed in the line of duty. Over 3,000 of our young men and women, and quite possibly even a few gays, have died in this noble cause. Whites and coloreds alike. The war is equal opportunity, and these deaths will be in vain unless more people die, too. Preferrably Iraqis. Any Iraqi.

The President's policy in Iraq is perfect for the common man to grasp -- it doesn't require thought. Patriotism often works that way. And I'm proud to say I would have voted for the original invasion if they would've let me. I realize the war was always about oil, but what's wrong with that? Darn it! We need that oil. How dare Iraq threaten the American way of life of doing what we want when we want. And to whomever we want.

Not only do I support the President's current policy in Iraq, but in the spirit of non-parisanship, I am volunteering my services to be the next War Czar -- at a modest price. True, I have no idea what I'll be doing and no experience whatsoever, but that doesn't seem to make a bit of difference, and I couldn't possibly do worse.

What I propose as the next War Czar -- or as the next President, I'm not picky -- is a proper troop surge. 25,000 troops? That's like bringing a six pack to a Teamsters' meeting. I propose to send 15,000,000 troops to Iraq. I'm talking on-on-one -- one soldier for every Iraqi. If they start to make a bomb, shoot 'em. If they're making secret plans, listen, and then shoot 'em.

Do you want a time line for sending our troops back home? That's easy. If you've got no one to watch, you get to go home.

My opponents ask me where I might find 15,000,000 troops. Fifteen million is 5% of the US population, I think, which is roughly how many people support the current troop surge. I say send them.

Thank you, and may God bless America, and especially its politicians, and especially me.

The Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch Newsletter #16

2007-04-26T14:00:00.000-05:00

Sex

My Fellow Americans:

Sex. It’s everywhere. It is estimated that every minute a child is born in America. If that’s the case, then there is always someone having sex. Think about it.

Drive by a billboard, open a magazine, or turn on the TV. There’s sex everywhere. There’s even sex in the Bible! This cannot be allowed! Unless something is done, and done quickly, this obsession with sex will be the downfall of this great country of ours.

Many people have offered explanations as to why this perversion has flourished in our country. Everything from no longer being able to pray in school to the godless ACLU has been held up as responsible. Whereas these and other things, such as the liberal media and Democrats in general, cannot be held blameless, the true cause is much more horrific.

My research, based entirely on common sense and unfounded speculation, has uncovered an insidious conspiracy that has no less than the destruction of the United States as its goal. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that Ben Laudanum or Al Katydid guy was at the core of it.

What I’m speaking about is the planned destruction of the United States of god-fearing America with sex. And it all starts with sex education.

Sex education lets the young people in our country know that they can have sex. It’s not a question of leaving that information to the home. Our children should not know it at all. No one should tell children about sex. It’s like candy. If children did not know that candy existed would they throw a fit for it in the aisles of Wal-Mart? The answer is simple: No.

Sex education, then, leads to contraceptives, and especially condoms. Follow the logic. Children know that sex exists, so they want it. That’s human nature. But they also know that sex causes pregnancy, which they don’t want. The solution, therefore, is a condom. Simply put, condoms cause sex. Some schools and community agencies even give condoms away, paid for with our tax dollars. In essence, we are paying for someone else -- someone other than you -- to have sex. How wrong is that?

When young men -- boys -- are allowed easy access to condoms it triggers in them the urge to have sex. Unfortunately, it does not have the same effect on girls. I have personally researched this. Simply because you have a condom in your wallet does not mean that a female -- any female -- will have sex with you, or even want to, even if you’re willing to pay. Not that I would ever do such a thing. But, as further, personal research has shown, this leads to sexual frustration.

Now add in the last piece to the puzzle: Legalized gay marriage. If gay unions are legal, then people will see it as a viable alternative to being straight. And since everybody knows that gay people have more sex than straight people, why would anybody chose to be straight? Maybe it will just be the guys at first, but when all the guys turn gay, what will the women do? Yup, rampant lesbianism. And who would even want to watch? Eventually our country will become totally gay.

These are patient people, our enemies. All they have to do is wait until there are just a bunch of old gays too decrepit to fight back. And then, America, as we have known it, ceases to exist. The threat is real, and all because of sex.

The solution is therefore three fold. To prevent unwanted sex and all that goes with it -- disease, pregnancy, and perversion -- we must first stop teaching our children about sex. In fact, I propose to make it illegal for anyone -- even doctors -- to discuss sex with anyone under the age of 40. Next, we must outlaw all contraceptives, especially condoms. Contraceptives cause sex. Plain and simple. Therefore, there can be no age limit for these tools of perversion, for they can too easily find their way to our youngsters and then cause Satan only knows what. And finally, we must outlaw anything but heterosexuality. It should be illegal even to speak about anything other than a man and a woman doing anything other than... well, you know. And if you don’t know, you don’t need to. Unless you’re over 40.

The Blind Parrot and the Deaf Cat

2007-04-20T10:20:00.000-05:00

The blind parrot walked everywhere he went. It was safer than flying, but he still bumped into a lot of things. He trust in fate to take him wherever it was that fate needed him to go.

One day fate led him to a cat. A deaf cat. A deaf cat that he bumped into, for after all, the blind parrot was prone to bump into things. And when he bumped, he felt.

The blind parrot had never felt anything so soft and warm as that cat. He had never heard anything make a more pleasant sound than that cat. And in the midst of all that warmth and pleasantness, the blind parrot could only imagine that he was in the pressence of God.

And so he gave praise unto God, as we are wont to do, for not only could that blind parrot speak, but his speech was more eloquent than anything that cat would have ever heard, had the cat been able to hear. But, alas, he could not, for he was deaf. His speech was more moving, more true, more full of beauty than any that has ever been uttered since or before in all the history of speech. Those that heard it were forever moved, forever touched, so that they could never look at life the same way, ever again. But the cat was not one of thsoe who hearad it, for alack, that cat could not hear at all.

And it was then that the deaf cat recognized the blind parrot for exactly what he was. Lunch. And he ate that blind parrot. He ate all of that blind parrot. And so the cat would never know the beautiful things that that parrot had said to him, had said of him. All because he was deaf.

But even if the cat could've heard it all, it really wouldn't've mattered. The cat couldn't've understood a word that he was saying anyway.

Poot-tee-weet?

2007-04-12T14:22:00.000-05:00

This is a day for Pall Mals and whiskey. A day to wrestle tirelessly with your dog. A day to wonder if Lyle and Kyle Hoover were ever able to save the Cathedral of Whispers. A day to find your old copy of "And Now it Can be Told," just to read it one more time, and maybe go a little crazy yourself. Only this time when you read it, pay more attention to the illustrations. They were always the best part.

Kurt's gone. I mean, really, he was in his '8os and smoked like a crematory. It shouldn't come as a surprise. But he's gone. Suddenly, it seems, we're left on our own to figure out what to do next. Hitchhiking to Midland City seems appropriate, but you know you're not going anywhere. Hitchhiking just isn't as reliable as it used to be. It's not as easy.

Everything was easier with Kurt around. Just knowing he was here made life easier. There was someone worrying about all those things you didn't have to worry about. Simply because he was here.

I suppose he still is. Here, that is. Isn't that why we were taught to always refer to literary works in the present tense? We were also taught to not split infinitives, but if nothing else, Vonnegut taught us that sometimes infinity needs to be split up. It needs to be ignored altogether, if only to keep us sane.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., had a way of making the end of the world humorous. But it was always uneasy laughter, for we always knew, deep down, that we were laughing at ourselves. We were laughing at our own weaknesses, our own stupidity. Our own insanity: Doing the same things over and over again, hoping for different results every time.

To paraphrase Kurt: We study history not so much so we won't repeat it again; a lot of good that's done. We study it so we are not surprised when we keep doing the same things over and over again.

Vonnegut recognized society for what it truly is: insane. Our brains are too darn big. We claim compassion, often in the name of god, but continue on the endless quest for the perfect weapon of mass destruction: One that will kill all of our enemies so quickly that they cannot respond in kind. Vonnegut realized long ago that if we kill all of our enemies there will be no one left. Even those whom we hoped would be on our side will inevitably reach down for a touch of Ice Nine. And they, too, will die with a laugh.

But still, through his fatalism and pessimism, Kurt wasn't fooling anybody -- well, anybody that bothered to read. It can all be so Nice, Nice, Very Nice. But then, Kurt realized that reading, and subsequently writing, is becoming a lost art.

The ultimate irony is if Kurt is given the choice by his own grandfather, the Hoosier architect, and he decides to stay another million years. A headless ghost left to watch, left to wait, and left to ultimately find out if we, too -- the human race -- will eventually grow flippers and learn to take pleasure from farting. I'm guessing, if given the choice, Vonnegut would choose Heaven. He already knows how this one will end.

So it goes.

Favourite Vonnegut

2007-04-12T14:20:00.000-05:00

#1 Breakfast of Champions
#2 Cat's Cradle
#3 Slaughterhouse Five
#4 Galapagos
#5 Mother Night

I think it's time to read another. Maybe this time it'll be Hocus Pocus. Now you see it; now you don't. We're off to the Turkey Farm.

Standardized Tests

2007-04-04T14:39:00.000-05:00

Yes! It's that time of the year again in public schools throughout the country. It's time to measure what our children know. Or, presumably, what they don't. And as I was watching the students eagerly cramming themselves into our performing arts room to be thoroughly assessed (Heh! Heh! You said Ass! Twice!) the following occurred to me.

The assumption is that every student started the year equal. They were all at the same intellectual plateau. After all, they were all promoted, right?

Further, all of them could learn at the same pace and ability. After all, if they couldn't, they would be in special ed, right?

Further, they all had the same opportunity to learn. That's why a school has a curriculum.

Therefore, if they do not learn, it is either because they chose not to learn, or they were not adequately taught. Still keeping up?

However, it is the teacher's responsibility to inspire the students to learn, and to do well.

Therefore, if students end the school year at different levels, it is the teacher's fault.

Knowing that I'll sleep so much better tonight.

Today's Shallow Thought

2007-04-04T14:38:00.000-05:00

You can prove anything to be true if you belive it's true to begin with.

Jesus in the Jello

2007-04-04T13:52:00.000-05:00

Chorus
I can see Jesus!
I can see Jesus!
I can see Jesus in my jello.

I can see Jesus!
Oh I can see Jesus!
I can see Jesus!
He's in my jello!

I got some jello on my tray
and there plain as the light of day
was my Savor,
my Lord Jesus.

Suspended in the cherry jell,
if you'd look, you could tell,
that it's Jesus,
my Lord Jesus.

Chorus

Now I don't know what to do,
if I leave it out it'll turn to goo.
It'll be the goo,
of my Lord Jesus.

It was meant to be a yummy treat,
but now there's no way I could eat
my Lord Jesus,
Oh my Lord Jesus.

Chorus

I could put him back in the box,
but then the image would be lost
behind the pot roast,
and the pizzas.

I don't know what course I should take,
so that I won't ever forsake
my Blessed Savor,
My Lord Jesus.

Chorus

You don't have to squint to know you're saved,
you can see him standing by his grave,
along with a cherry
and some peaches.

Moses might part the gravy sea,
and Mary might be in the creamed peas,
but in the jello
is my Lord Jesus.
Yes in my jello,
is my Lord Jesus.

Repeat Chorus until you get bored with it or until you're struck by lightning.

The Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch Newsletter #15

2007-04-04T11:45:00.000-05:00

Creating Jobs

My Fellow Americans:

As you all certainly know, I have recently announced my candidacy for the Office of President of the United States of America. Whereas the central platform of many of my esteemed colleagues seems to be ending the war in Iraq, my candacy will focus instead on what truly matter the most for every American -- Jobs.

The war in Iraq, for instance, has created many jobs in America. Aside from the soldiers (who, if they returned, would flood the labor market, thereby causing unemployment), there are the munitions manufacturers, the entire mortuary industry (including coffins, headstones, and embalming fluid), and all the other associated industries that go with war. It was trur in WW II, and it's true now -- war is good for the economy.

As President, I will also stem the flow of US jobs going to foreign countries (except in the case of war). A recent example that has been brought to my attention is the story of Hugh Williams. Hugh was a self-employed businessman operating a cottage industry in rural southwest Missouri. Until recently, Hugh was able to support his family and offer a much needed service to his community. Until the state government (and might I add, with the cooperation of the federal government) inacted legislation that caused a scarcity and a subsequent rise in price for Hugh's raw materials. As a consequence, Hugh could no longer compete with cheaper resources in an unrestricted Mexican economy. Hugh struggled to keep afloat, being forced to become a distributor for what he once manufactured, with the bulk of the profit that was once his going across the boarder to Mexico. Simply put, Hugh was outsourced.

Hugh's story, fortunately, has a happy ending. In 5-10 years when Hugh is released from Federal Prison for distributing methamphetimines, through the government's inmate training program, Hugh will be able to pursue a career in the fast food industry.

Hugh is one of the lucky ones, but many are not as fortunate as Mr. Williams. Our government can no longer sit around and allow our jobs to be shipped overseas. That is why I support strict legislation that would forbid importing anything into the United States.

The United States has everything we need right within our boarders. We have fine, quality beer, world class whiskey, and some of the finest marijuana on the planet, or so I have been told. And what we don't have we can once again begin making, like TVs and cheap cars. We can also do our own telemarketing and drive our own cabs, by God. And we don't need to improt anyone else's religion, either.

In addition, I also propose the construction of a 100 foot high wall around the entire United States, even along our coasts. Such a major construction job, and the subsequent maintenance, would generate jobs on a scale never before seen in this great country of ours.

Not only would the Great Wall of American -- or, as some of my constituants like to call it, the Bullfinch Barrier -- keep out illegal immigrants and other terrorists, it would also keep our jobs in. Just try to lift a toaster factory over one hundred feet of concrete and razor wire.

With the Bullfinch Barrier the United States would be a safer place. The United States would once again learn to mind her own business, and individuals like Hugh Williams would once again be allowed to pursue the Great American Dream -- becoming obscenely wealthy at the cost of others.

Thank you, and may the God who resides specifically over the First Free Will Temple of Jesus My Blessed Savor bless you, too

The Phone's Ringing

2007-04-02T11:59:00.000-05:00

The sound of my mother's voice means death
the unexpected ring in the early evening
for that is the only time she calls
death can wait

I wonder who it is this time
the most likely candidates
the aunts and uncles
are starting to wear thin

Then there's the distant unexpected
the second cousin of a forgotten in-law
that I'm pretty sure I didn't meet
the time we went to that reunion at the park by the levee

And then there are those we fear the most
brothers or sisters
nieces or nephews
or simply the voice of my father on the other end

Personality Test

2007-03-28T13:21:00.000-05:00

I’ve been trying to come up with a simple test that will reveal a person’s personality. You know, by simply knowing the answer to any given question, or questions, you automatically could make assumptions about that person that are right. After all, who really wants to take the time to get to know everybody that they meet? For instance, if an incomplete stranger shows up at your door with a bloody hammer in his or her hand, you automatically know that it’s a person you don’t want to know.

These are the types of questions that will tell you beyond a doubt those things about the person that are never going to change. Those parts of their personality that are at their core. Like if they’ve ever had sex with anybody under the age of 9, then they’re never going to be somebody that you want to have over for crab dip. You get the idea.

Of course, the answers to the following don’t necessarily make somebody good or bad; you just know what kind of person they are (unless it’s the sex one, and then it makes them bad. Even if they argue that it doesn’t necessarily make them bad, that in itself makes them bad).

1. If they think Charley Manson wasn’t really that bad.

2. They fly a Confederate flag on a pole in the front yard.

3. They would like to fly a Confederate flag on a pole in the front yard.

4. They swerve and try to hit animals on the road.

5. They’ve ever scratched a swastika into their flesh.

6. They have a bumper sticker on their car that says, “It’s in the Bible. I believe it. And that settles it.”

7. They would like to have a bumper sticker on their car that says, “It’s in the Bible. I believe it. And that settles it.”

8. They still think George W. Bush is a good president.

9. They think Hillary Clinton will make a good president.

10. The death penalty is only bad because we don’t use it more.

11. They’ve ever said, “What’s the point of reading anything? If it’s any good they’ll make it into a movie any way.”

12. They think the Beatles were stupid.

13. They think Brittany Spears, Paris Hilton, and Nicole Richey are all good entertainers... and they’re over the age of 14.

14. They’ve ever ordered anything on-line that has the KKK emblem on it.

15. They know where the direct dealer is for KKK merchandise, so they don’t have to order it on-line.

16. They litter.

17. They believe homosexuality should be against the law.

18. They seriously believe that nuclear weapons are a solution to all foreign policy problems.

19. They ever have to look around to see who might be listening before they tell a joke, and it’s not just because the joke is off-colour.

20. They not only don’t know where Europe is, but they don’t see why they need to.

21. They wear a tube top in the winter, regardless of their sex.

I’m sure I could come up with more, but this is a good start. Care to add some? Once again, however these are answered doesn’t necessarily tell whether someone is good or bad, they just allow you to know something inexplicable about their personality. And maybe something about your own...

Place Names

2007-03-26T13:29:00.000-05:00

This is part whatever of my series on the Ozarks. This is intended for my non-Ozarkian readers out there who don't know what life in southwest Missouir is truly like, especially what it's like to live in the Queen City of the Ozarks -- Springfield. I mean, really, in a a city were fundamentalist Christainity is paramount, why would they want to nickname themselves the Queen City?

Of course, it could be worse. We could be living in Sleeper. Or Pecular. Or Licking. Or Climax Springs. That's an oxymoron at best.

And then there's Kum and Go. Wow. Do you go there before or after you eat out at Touch? And then there's STD. I'm not really sure what STD stands for, but it's a flea market. Okay. I don't care what it stands for. That's awful! I suppose, though, it's better than the FAG Bearing company in Joplin. Wow. Double Wow.

Has anybody out there found any place names better than these?

Shallow Thoughts

2007-03-26T13:11:00.000-05:00

If a bear were to become bi-polar, would it be a bi-polar bear?

Has anyone ever perfored the play "My American Cousin" again?

If we can't see vampires in mirrors, how come we can't see their clothes?

Dawgs

2007-03-20T10:14:00.000-05:00

This weekend in Aurora will be the world premiere of my newest play "Dawgs," which has just been published by Brooklyn Publishing. It should be a lot of fun. Associated Theatrical Contractors in Springfield has designed and made all the costumes, which really look cool. It will be hard to tell who the kid really is. So, if you're not doing anything either Friday or Saturday (or both) drop into the new high school in beautiful, down town Aurora and enjoy the show. It starts at 7:00 both nights, and the tickets include dessert. What a deal!

I''m Not Going to Ask You Again

2007-03-07T13:26:00.000-06:00

Not that you ever asked to begin with.

So, you see... I got this ticket last fall in Arkansas. Arkansas! And I'm thinkin' to myself at the time, "Why bother?" I mean, what can Arkansas do to me in Missouri? But then I got to thinking, "Gee, I ought to pay it anyway." And then I got to thinking, "Hey, these pants have pockets in both the front and the back!" In other words, I forgot about it. And whenever I remembered it, I would think, "Yeah, I'll pay that when I get my next check." So I never did.

Well, long story longer, Arkansas apparently has some sort of legal agreement with Missouri. So my license was revoked in Missouri. You would think... You would think! that if they evoked your license someone would bother to tell you before they pulled you over in Marionville one fine night on your way home from work.

Hey, I've seen enough cop shows. When the cop comes back up to the car and says (in that unmistakable serious cop tone), "Would you please step out of your vehicle," then you know something's wrong. Especially when he has his hand on his gun.

So this cop tells me that he's going to have to handcuff me, which I'm opposed to. And so the cop says, "I'm not going to ask you again." I was tempted to tell him that he had never asked me to begin with, but I was guessing that Officer Friendly probably wouldn't appreciate the finer nuances of the English language. So next thing I know I'm in the back of his police car on my way to Mount Vernon, which happens to be the county seat of Lawrence County.

An interesting fact about downtown Mount Vernon: There is a clock tower on the square with four clocks, each facing a different direction, each that works, but none that has the correct time. One, though, clearly showed that it was 4:20. Irony is wonderful.

So I'm taken to the booking room at the police station. Never mind that the other cops yelled at us, trying to scare my particular cop as he walked through the door. Never mind that the topic of conversation was which particular brand of handgun was superior over another. And never mind that there was some guy in the room wearing orange coveralls, drinking coffee, and reading (with his feet propped up on a desk) Jeff Foxworthy's "Redneck Dictionary."

Let's talk about the call the cop got at the booking desk. It was someone calling that there was an officer down in the jail. Serious stuff. And all of the cops there responded appropriately. They were all yelling "Alright!" and whipping out their batons, each trying to be the first to get to the jail and beat the living hell out of someone. They all came back just a few minutes later, disappointed that it had been a prank call from someone else in the jail. I don't know which was more upsetting: The fact that someone is pranking them about something as serious as an officer down, the fact that all of them were so disappointed that they didn't get to kick some ass, or the fact that I really didn't care.

So there I am, handcuffed to this bench. The booking cop finally tells me I can have a phone call. In fact, I could've had it all along. There were two phones right behind me. Of course, the one immediately behind me didn't work, so I had to lean all the way over and, pretty much stretching as far as I could, make a very awkward phone call. Of course, calling your wife and telling her you're in jail is always going to be a bit awkward. I suppose when it's no longer awkward you really need to reevaluate your life. But I digress.

There I am, still handcuffed to the bench. So I say to the only jailer left in there, "Don't you suppose that this is a bit over-kill?" To which he answers, "What?" And I reply, "Being chained to a bench. It's not like I'm going anywhere." And he answers, "No. And that insures that you don't." According to their rules, all "prisoners" must be handcuffed while they are being booked. About a minute later the cop finished booking me, after which he unchained me. Finishing his paper work apparently suddenly made me a whole lot less dangerous.

So they were finally done booking me for driving with a revoked license. They then gave me back my license, opened the door, and let me go.

I went next door to the front door of the jail, where I awaited for my wife. It was while I was there, staring at the wall, that I finally noticed a sign that I had been staring at all along. It said: "In case of emergency, dial 911." Now, usually that would be pretty good information to have, but would I really need to call 911 if I'm already at the police station? I would think at that point simply yelling "Help!" would suffice. But then again, we are talking Lawrence County.

So at any rate, my wife came and rescued me, I paid my ticket in Arkansas (plus a hefty fine for not paying it to begin with), I'm once again driving legally again in Missouri, and now I'm awaiting my court date in Marionville. It's for, of course, driving with a suspended license.

Wishing I Were Stoned

2007-03-05T17:47:00.000-06:00

No. Really. Do you ever wished you were stoned? I'm not talking a bit buzzed. I'm talkin' blasted. Totally toasted. Blot-so. Weeded out. I'm talkin', "Dude, what the hell was that?"

Not that being on drugs is a good idea, but it would sure help explain things. Like the entire Bush Administration. I mean, wouldn't it be nice to say, "Dude. That must be some pretty nasty stuff I've been smoking." And then you could just quit and it would all go away. "Wow! I'm never doing that again!"

Or the other day when I was driving through Republic and I saw a local policeman in his patrol car wearing a cowboy hat. It wasn't the patrol car wearing the cowboy hat, but the policeman, although a patrol car in a cowboy hat wouldn't've been that much more bizarre. "No thanks. No more for me."

Or the time outside of Niangua when I saw a sheriff with a shotgun and mirrored glasses watching over a road gang that was dressed in stripped outfits. "I promise, man, I'm gonna quit."

Or my boss.

Or you...

Throwing in the Hat

2007-03-05T17:44:00.000-06:00

(Billings, MT) Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch (At-Large) announced late yesterday (the day before that on the East Coast) that he is officially forming a committee to explore the creation of an exploratory committee to run for the Presidency of the United States of America. He made the announcement to a packed house at the Billings Bingo Bonanza in Billings Montana. When asked why he chose Billings, all Senator Bullfinch had to say was, “Bingo!”

Should he choose to choose to run, Bullfinch says he will stick to his core values of family, God, and porn. For instance, Senator Bullfinch favors withdrawing everybody from Iraq, even the Iraqis, requiring every US citizen to own a handgun, passing a Constitutional Amendment declaring a national religion, and building a 100 foot high wall around the entire United States. Stated Bullfinch, “Yeah, that ought to keep ‘em in.”

Bullfinch says that his biggest problem at this stage is fundraising. According to his campaign manager, Ivan Tupidsay, they so far have raised $17.32, and one free movie rental at Blockbuster. He encourages everyone to send him as much money as possible. More coupons would be nice, too.

Mr. Tupidsay says that Bullfinch’s campaign swing will take the Senator through Nevada (Reno, Las Vegas, and the Mustang Ranch), Southern California, and Northern Mexico. Stated Ivan, “Just because they’re not citizens of the United States doesn’t mean they can’t vote.”

A Lesson Remembered

2007-02-26T10:32:00.000-06:00

An old professor of mine at Missouri State (back when it was just a region university), Dr. Alen Crider, once said in one of my principal classes: "Never pick a fight with anybody who buys their ink by the barrel." Sage advice. By the way, ink was selling at $43 a barrel this morning in Europe.

One Size Fits All

2007-02-26T10:27:00.000-06:00

We all know the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes. A vain emperor was convinced that he had the most remarkable clothes ever, when in reality he was stark-raving naked, the victim of a clever con. It took the courage of a small child to finally say what everybody else was afraid to admit, that the emperor was, indeed, naked. Now there’s a mental picture I didn’t need. The story goes on to say how the child was lauded as a hero. But we really know how the story ended. If the child received a quick death it would’ve been merciful. Nobody wants to admit they’re wrong. And the more they invest in their failure, the more strongly they will hold on to the belief that they are right. After all, they have research backing them.

The school district that I work for is in the process of completely overhauling its curricula. Or rather, I should say, the teachers in the school district are in the process of rewriting the curricula. Never mind that there are PhDs who specialize in writing curricula. We’re the ones who are going to do the job. What? Are you kidding? It would cost a fortune to hire experts to write this stuff. And we can be trained to do it in just a few short hours.

Our goal is a noble one. One that keeps the best interests of the students in mind. One that recognizes what the students need and then coordinates all the teachers to work toward those common goals. Seriously. It also is one that will improve our test scores, or so we hope. After all, the goal of any district is not necessarily to teach the students anything, but to show improvement on test scores. Some will argue that we can only show improvement on test scores by improving our teaching, but when kick comes to stomp, it’s the test scores that truly matter.

Here’s the logic of our district. And it’s good logic. Really. A wonderful outfit for the emperor. There are certain things that we want every student to know when they graduate. Not using collective pronouns with singular subjects should be one, but it’s probably not. Generally, these are things that assure that our students will be successful in life, and overall not embarrass the district should Jay Leno ever approach them on a busy city street. Math skills. Language skills. Using complete sentences. That sort of thing. The idea is that if every senior should have this collective knowledge upon graduation, then every junior should have a somewhat lesser amount at the end of their junior year. And every freshman should have a relatively lesser amount on the 2nd of March during their freshman year, and so on. Skills build upon skills. A good idea. So how do we achieve this? By making sure every teacher is teaching the same thing on every day. If it’s February 26th, then this must be polynomials.

In theory, this plan works. In theory we should be able to build a bridge to the moon. Never mind that once the lesson plans are created, once the test bank is made, once the curricula is finalized, anybody could theoretically teach anything. All you have to do is read the lesson plan, assign the class work, and then administer the test. After all, it’s not going to matter if any individual student can’t keep up. You’ve got to move on. So much for no student left behind. There is no creativity. Teachers will become autotrons. But what difference will that make if the majority of our students are learning? After all, we shouldn’t be concerned with the teachers’ happiness. Truly, schools don’t exist for the happiness of the teachers, but for the benefit of the students. And that one student that got left behind? He probably was going to be left behind regardless. It’s a rough lesson, but not everybody can be saved. We can thrown him a lifesaver, but the ship’s not coming back.

So why is this wrong, other than the fact that it just sounds creepy? For starters, once creativity is taken out of teaching, we move the instructional process to the least common denominator. Yes, every student gets the same, and we can prove it with our common assessments, but it’s not very much. There is no room for those teaching moments, for getting off the subject. For letting the mind wander. In essence, for nurturing curiosity.

But more insidious, it assumes that every student is capable of learning at the same rate. Anybody who has children knows this isn’t so. What about learning impaired students who have Individual Learning Plans? Or gifted students, for that matter? In reality, nobody learns at the same rate. Truly, every child should have an IEP. And there is more than ample research to back that. Just look at Edwards or Gardner. Heck, go all the way back to Piaget.

And what if the teacher is bored? What if the teacher approaches every day like I used to when I made TVs on the assembly line? Just bolt on the subject/verb agreement as the children pass by. Does it really matter? Heck, yes, it matters! For a good deal of our students, the only people they see on a daily basis that have more than a high school education are their teachers. If we are trying to convince these kids that an education is worthwhile, then we darn well better be enjoying ourselves. We’d better be living the good life. We had better be coming in every day as excited to be here as we want these kids to be excited to learn. I mean, would you put any faith in a personal trainer that was overweight, smoked, and was overall sickly?

And finally, what is it that we really want our students to learn? The capitol of Assyria? (It’s Nineveh, by the way.) The air speed of an unleaden swallow? Your favourite colour? The majority of what we teach kids is trivia, especially from junion high on. What do you remember from your freshman History class? Chances are, if you remember anything at all, it wasn’t anything that had anything to do with the curriculum. But yet you learned. Or you didn’t. Either depended on whether or not you taught yourself. Whether you had the basic information to finally seek knowledge when you saw a purpose for it. It was whether you ever learned how to learn -- how to teach yourself. And that probably depended on whether or not you ever learned to value education. And how did you learn to do that? Someone modeled it. Someone who valued education and you valued as an individual. Someone who made education enjoyable...dare I say fun?

Unfortunately, that’s really hard to measure. Good luck writing a multiple choice question that will tell you that your students truly value education. It’s easier to grade split infinitives. It’s easier to pretend that the emperor has a wonderful new outfit. Let somebody else be the fool that gets reprimanded for having the courage to stand up and say, “What the hell?”

An Inappropriate Blog

2007-02-23T12:33:00.000-06:00

I'd like to apologize to all those people that my blog has offended. For the life of me, I can't decide which of the three people it might have been, but one of you is really pissed that I use such words as "piss" in my blog. Well, shit, I did it again.

So I did about 10 minutes worth of research and I came up with the following:

"The Board of Education should not be empowered to dismiss any teacher whose personal, private conduct incures its disapproval. A teacher's behavior should disqualify him only when it is clearly related to his effectiveness in his job. When his job as a teacher is not affected, his private behavior is his own business and should not form a basis for discipline."

(Morrison v. Board of Education)

Or how about:

"The private writings of a teacher...'are absolutely immaterial' and cannot be used to justify discharging the teacher."

(Jarvella v. Willoughby)

Or, along those same lines:

"'The state is not allowed to penalize its citizens for their thoughts, for it would be the rare and either mindless, supine or super-saintly citizen who has not at some time contemplated and then rejected the illegal.'"

(Bogart v. Unified School District No. 298 of Lincoln City, Kansas)

And finally:

Only that which is "legally obscene" is "not entitled to First Amendment protecvtion...." Therefore, if it's not "legally obscene," then a teacher is protected by the constitution.

(Weissbaum v. Hannon)

By the way, legally obscene, which is truly vague, is generally defined as depicting "sexual conduct in a patently offensive way, and lacks serious literary or artistic value." Good luck with that.

All the above was taken from The Rights of Students and Teachers (Louis Fischer and David Schimmel, Harper & Row, 1982). Yeah, I know that was 25 years ago. But then, I'm willing to bet not that much has changed.

And now, the disclaimer: This blog is fiction. It is a creative outlet for me. In fact, I'm still amazed that anyone else reads it at all. It is not intended to be read by close-minded idiots, although apparently it has been. It is not intended to be anything but fun. If it makes you think, well hey, the day's not been a total waste. But if you want me to stop, let me remind you of one thing: My two best friends from college both became lawyers. I belong to two legal organizations that both include legal representation. And my wife works with several lawyers that I happen to know, too. I guess that's more than one thing, but you get the idea...let's hope.

And now, back to the fun.

The Comfort of My Home

2007-02-23T12:27:00.000-06:00

Would you like me any less
if you knew I wore a dress
in the comfort of my home,
with the shades drawn down low?

If I spent my weekends stoned
talking on the phone
with someone I paid to say those things,
would your opinion of me change?

Does it matter how I play?
Does it matter how I pray?
Or if I don't pray at all?

Does it matter wht I read?
Does it matter what I believe?
Or if I don't believe anything at all?

If you're peeking through my blinds
don't be surprised what you might find
in the comfort of my home,
where all I ask is to be left alone.

President's Day 2007

2007-02-14T12:00:00.000-06:00

James A. Garfield

Because so many people don’t know the difference between a plural possessive and a singular possessive, I have chosen President’s day to be singular. Therefore, I have decided to choose the president I wish to honor each year. Last year, the President was Benjamin Franklin Pierce, famed politician and skilled army surgeon. This year, the honor goes to none other that James A. Garfield (1831-1881).

Among other things, Garfield is recognized as the last president to live in a log cabin, or eat the syrup, or maybe both. Kinda makes ya wonder who the last president will be who lived in a duplex.

Garfield was opposed to the political corruption that had been rampant during Reconstruction, and in under a year made people actually respect the office of the Presidency once again. For that alone he should be the most honored President of them all. But how soon we forget.

Originally from Ohio, he went to college in Massachusetts, learning, among other things, how to spell Massachusetts. He went on to become a classics professor at the Western Reserve Eclectic Institute (Ol’ WREI), which was a lot easier then because there were fewer classics, and he quickly became the president of that esteemed institution (now known as Hiram -- as in Hiram Walker -- College).

In 1859, Garfield became a Republican senator from Ohio, though back then the Republicans were more interested in actually governing our country than such things as gay marriage and stem cell research. In fact, the whole question of gays would not occur until the ‘90s, nearly ten years after Garfield’s death.

Garfield saw service for the Union Army during the Civil War, but was recalled to the Senate by Lincoln because it was a lot harder to find decent Senators than decent commanders. Given the history of the North’s commanders during the Civil War, that’s not saying much.

So in Congress Garfield stayed for the next 18 years. Then, in 1880, he was given the Republican nomination for the President pretty much as an after thought when the guy that Garfield was trying to get nominated (Pat Robertson, or something like that) didn’t get it. It was pretty much a case of, “Hey, how about you?” The rest is history, which can be said for anything.

Garfield mostly spent his Presidency bickering over who would run the Custom’s House, which to this day is still a highly prized job in Washington. Once that issue was settled (and I’m sure everybody remembers how from their grammar school days), Garfield spent the rest of his Presidency dying.

On July 2nd (the day before my sister’s birthday), 1882 (69 years before my sister’s birthday), Garfield was shot by a pissed attorney who didn’t get the government appointment that he’d hoped for from Garfield. Garfield managed to hang on until September 19, and was even treated by Alexander Graham Bell, who had better success with his telephone.

On becoming President after Garfield’s death, Grover Cleveland was reported to have said, “Wow, that was easy.” Cleveland later had a city in Ohio and a character on Sesame street named after him. Garfield managed to remain dead for the next 90 or so years, when he was reincarnated as a cartoon cat.

You Can't Know the Players Without a Program

2007-02-13T14:22:00.000-06:00

With the start of the 2008 Presidential Campaign, I find myself wondering: Who the heck was that kid who used to sit in front of me in the 5th grade? Not Richard. I know him. But that other kid. The one who Miss Forshee moved after she was sick of Richard and me talking all hour. Because, truly, he was a dick. Richard was a Dick, too, but not in that sense. And, you know, he just might be running for President. Not Richard, but the other dick. So I got to wondering just who might be running for president. Thank goodness for Wikipedia. Therefore, I give you the following Official Program. For simplicity's sake, I've given everybody a number, for the most part, I just started at the beginning and went down, except for Obama. I missed him the first time through. And the Republicans. Let's face it; they don't stand a chance anyway, when the best they can offer so far is Brownback.

Democratic Candidates

Officially Filed

#1 Senator Joseph Biden (from Delaware... wow... we’re in Delaware)

#2 Senator Christopher Dodd (from Connecticut... State Motto: "At least it’s easier to spell than Massachutsettes")

#3 Senator John Edwards (from North Carolina and no longer running with what’s his name)

#4 Senator Mike Gavel (from Alaska: State Motto: "Brrrrr.")

#5 Congressman Dennis Kucinich (Ohio, which is easier to spell than Kucinich)

# 57 Senator Barack Obama (Illinois; official campaign song: “Back in Black”)

#6 Former Governor Tom Vilsack (Pennsylvania; official campaing motto: “Comon, guys, you remember me!”)

Unofficial, but has exploratory committee

#7 Governor Bill Richardson (New Mexico; has same birthday as me, which would be cool)

#8 Senator Hillary Clinton (New York, Arkansas, Chicago, I’m not picky; Official campaign motto: “Bill who?”)

Potential Noteable Candidates Without Exploratory Committees

#9 General Wesley Clark (Official motto: “No, really, I’m probably not maybe going to run.”)

#10 Al “You’ve Got to be Kidding Me” Gore

#11 Al “You’ve Really Got to be Kidding Me” Sharpton

#12 Governor Kathleen Sebelius (Kansas; official motto: “Eisenhower was not a fluke!”)

Those Guys who Are Definitely Not Running (Yeah, Right)

#13 John “Thank God” Kerry, #14 Mark Warner, #15 Russ Feingold, #16 Howard “Yee Haa!” Dean, #17 Tom “I’m not a wiener dog” Daschle, and # 19 Evan Bayh

And Now for the Republicans

#44 Senator Sam Brownback (Kansas: Official motto: “Jesus loves me, and maybe you, too.”)

#45 Representative Duncan Hunter (California: Official motto: “My name says it all.”)

Potential Candidates with Exploratory Committees

#46 Former Governor Jim Gilmore (Virginia; didn’t they execute that guy in Utah in ’76?)

#47 Former Mayor Rudy Giuliani (New York; Official motto: “Cashing in on my 15 minutes of fame.”)

#48 Former Governor Mike Huckabee (Arkansas; Official motto: “You elected Clinton, why not me?”)

#49 Senator John McCain (Arizona: Official motto: “No, really, I’m probably going to run.”)

#50 Representative Ron Paul (Pensylvania; Official motto: "Who?")

# 51 Former Governor Mitt Romney (Massachusettes; Official motto: “Who says it’s that hard to spell?”)

#52 Representative Tom Tancredo (Colorado; Officially needs a motto)

#53 Former Governor Tommy Thompson (Wisconsin, also known for cheese)

Potential Candidates Without Exploratory Committees

#54 Former Everything Newt Gingrich (Considering running with Al Sharpton)

#55 Senator Chuck Hagel (Nebraska, it’s not just the home of corn)

#56 Former Governor George Pataki (New York, where no one has a normal name)

Those Guys who Are Definitely Not Running (Only if there is a God)

#20 George Allen, #21 Jeb “Thanks A Lot W” Bush, #22 Dick “Dick” Cheney, #23 Bill “Sounds Like Fist” Frist, #24 Condoleezza “I’m Not A Guy!” Rice, #25 Mark Stanford, and #26 Rick Santorium (not sanitarium)

They’re Running but We Really Don’t Know What Their Party is, Not Like it’s Really Going to Matter Anyway

#27 Michael Charles Smith and #28 Richard Michal Smith (are these the same guy?)

Constitution Party (see the above category)

#29 James Gilchrist (California)

Green Party

#30 Kat Swift (Texas; doesn’t stand a chance, but don’t you love the name?)

#31 Ralph Nader (Who knows; unofficially willing to officially waste our time yet again)

Libertarian Party (not afraid to waste our time yet again)

#32 Steve Kubby (California; sounds like chubby)

#33 George Phillies (Massachusettes; shouldn't he be from Pennsylvania?)

#34 Christine Smith (Colorado; Not related to either Michael or Richard)

#35 Doug Stanhope (Arizona; the only hope he has is in his name)

#36 Robert “Whiney the Pooh” Milnes (New Jersey)

Prohibition (I’m not kidding) Party

#37 Gene Amondson (Washington; I'll drink to that)

And Everybody Else

Actively pursuing or interested in candidacy, though for the life of me I don’t know why

#38 Steve Adams (Kentucky), #39 Bob Hargis (Oklahoma), #40 Daniel Imperato (Florida), #41 David A Koch (Utah), #42 Ken Goldsetein, and #43 Charles T. Maxham (New Jersey)

Don't worry if you can't remember everybody. This is bound to change by the time I hit "Publish Post."

As My Mind Wanders

2007-01-25T13:11:00.000-06:00

I was waiting for a red light the other day, as I am often wont to do, when I saw a Community Blood Bank truck run a red light. No kidding. Now wouldn't that be ironic. If you were run over by a Blood Bank truck and bled to death? Seems a bit counter productive, if you'd ask me.

So I was thinking: What if you were a split-personality schiziophrenic and one half was gay and the other half was homo-phobic? I think I'll stop there. There's just no where good that this is going to go, especially if I get to the part in the public restroom.

Prejudice...A Good Thing

2007-01-23T07:36:00.000-06:00

As a child of the 'sixties, I grew up with changing attitudes toward prejudice. I remember my parents not allowing me to hang a poster of Bill Cosby in my bedroom, simply because he was Black (he was, wasn't he?). I always believed that prejudice was wrong, and I have fought many personal battles to right what I felt were the injustices of my work place, family members, and society in general. But after many years I have concluded that prejudice is actually a good thing. Consider the following:

Prejudice creates group cohesiveness. I mean, can white people truly refer to each other as "My brother!" No. It just won't work.

It is good for the economy. After all, affirmitive action would not exist if it weren't for prejudice. Think about how many jobs that prejudice has created, and not just from affirmitive action. Whenever one group is held down for too long, they always react violently. Rebuilding burnt out sections of town is a stimulus for economic growth.

Prejudice lowers crime. After all, there are groups that we should be legitimately afraid of, such as Islamic terrorists, violent, drug-crazed street gangs, and Belgians.

It gives us something to do. Indeed, are not idle minds the devil's workshop, or something like that?

And prejudice gives those with nothing else something to be proud of. Imagine having nothing else good in your life other than being white and having a penis. Prejudice could be the only reason many people just don't chuck it in and hang themselves with their Confederate flags.

What is bad, however, is undirected prejudice. Simply put, we need to be very specific about what we are prejudiced against. We don't want to spread ourselves too thin by trying to be prejudiced about too many things.

Therefore I propose that everybody choose one thing to be prejudiced about. However, that's it. You can only have one, so choose carefully. And since everybody has one specific prejudice, then no one will get upset at someone for being prejudiced, because, after all, everybody is prejudiced. And even if someone is prejudiced toward you, it's still OK. I mean, heck, it's got to be somebody, so why not you?

I, myself, have decided to be prejudiced toward the Swiss. I mean, why the heck not? Think about it. Everybody goes on about Swiss army knives, but what war has the Swiss ever won? Swiss chocolate? Give me a break. I say if it ain't Hershey's (American chocolate at its best) then the hell with it! Swiss clocks? What? Are you too good for a Timex? Unnumbered Swiss Bank Accounts? Didn't they ever learn to count? Their cheese has holes in it, for crying out loud! And the Swiss are so damned smug about always being neutral. I say it's time to stop! The hell with the Swiss!

Of course, I don't expect anyone else to choose the Swiss, but as long as I had to choose... well... OK then!

How Hard Can It Be?

2007-01-22T13:00:00.000-06:00

A cleaver title to a really stupid idea, and that being erectile tissue. You know. And if not, look it up. During the recent ice storm, when we were without electricity (wait, we're still have no electricity!), I had the occasion to observe erectile tissue. And I have discovered a conundrum.

Both penises and nipples are made of erectile tissue. Yet, when it gets cold, the nipples... well, get all nipply. And the penis... well, it does the old scared turtle thing. Now ya see it... now ya don't. You get the idea.

OK, why is that? Does anybody out there know?

These are the great mysteries of life that bother me.

Bra Bombs

2007-01-22T12:39:00.000-06:00

My recent traveling experiences -- with many lengthly layovers -- gave me time to think. OK, here goes. This one guy tries to sneak a bomb on an airplane in his shoes... never mind that it was a stupid idea and didn't work and no other terrorist would ever dream of trying it, mostly because, even if you are resolved to killing yourself for whatever insane reason, no one wants to light their feet on fire before they do... where was I? Oh yeah, this one guy tries it and now everybody has to take their shoes off before getting on an airplane. Don't you wish, along those same lines, that somebody would've tried sneaking a bomb on a plane in a bra? Yup, a bra bomb. Trust me, the rest of this is going no where good.

So, would there be boob profilers? "I'm sorry, ma'am, but would you please step out of line?"

You could bet one thing, there wouldn't be a problem getting people to work for Homeland Security.

But then, I could see people showing up at the airport... Well, you know how people wear shoes that are easy to get on and off? What if people started just not wearing bras. Before you say that's a good idea, just remember that there are very good reasons for supportive undergarments. I mean, my grandmother flew for heaven's sake.

OK, so bra bombs were really a bad idea.

OK. I'm going to stop now.

Back in the US

2007-01-20T16:36:00.000-06:00

Hey, it was a great trip. I spent Christmas in Argentina.

In response to my questions: Yes, the toilets really do flush backwards in South Amercia. No, if you see a Toucan you really don't get Fruit Loops. I went to Evita's tomb, and though I tried... I really did... I couldn't work up any tears. And the Argentinians refer to themselves as Argentines. Of course, they do it in Spanish, so it loses a bit in translation.

The first three days we spent up at Iguazu Falls. Wow! That's a bit of water. Really cool stuff. I would describe it, but I won't. They have some big ass lizards up there, and we even saw a monkey. Well, we saw his tail. But it counts!

And then we ate a sandwich in the park and spent the next week sick. I'm talkin', don't get out of sight of a bathroom sick. Seriously, we had to plan our outings in relation to where a bathroom might be. I wasn't too bad, but my wife and son were definitely down for the count... especially my son.

There was, though, time to make some interesting observations.

First of all: Relatives are god's way of making you deal with people you'd probably, normally, want nothing to do with. But I digress.

In Buenos Aires everybody has a dog, often dogs. It's not that people who live in other large cities don't have dogs. But people who live in large cities generally don't have very large dogs. It seems that everybody in Buenos Aires has gigantic dogs. We're talkin' Irish Wolf Hounds, Great Danes, Clifford! And, of course, these dogs need to be walked. And, of course, they leave shit on the sidewalk the size of small cats. There is dog crap every where. You develop a second sense after a while. One eye down and one eye ahead.

The cab drivers were a trip, both literally and figuratively. Not only are stop signs just a suggestion, but oncoming traffic in the other lane was seen as a challenge. And to make it more fun, the red lights turn yellow before they turn green. So everybody is setting at the intersections like dragsters waiting for the green. I think that would be a good way to stop Springfield drivers from running yellow (and red) lights. Trust me, nobody in their right minds goes through a light in Buenos Aires on yellow... except the cabbies.

Argentina may be know for wine, but they're definitely not known for beer.

And in a country that so values their steak (and it is good), you'd think that somebody, somewhere, would have a bottle of A-1. In fact, it's hard to find spices at all in Argentina. We all felt lucky to find pepper. Salt was even a treat.

All told, we were glad to come back.

Some things I've learned:

Avoid Dallas. Is there anyone out there that has ever flown through Dallas and not been delayed? As far as that goes, avoid American made jets (sorry, Seattle). They're old, they're cramped, and they generally suck. Drugs help.

Avoid sandwiches that are wrapped in cellophane.

Don't be surprised when it rains in the rainforest. Every day. All the time.

Grafitti is far better in Latin American coutries than in the US. My favourite:

Sexo, Drugas, y Rock!

Ice, baby, ice!

2007-01-20T16:26:00.000-06:00

Seven days, no electricity... eye sight getting dim... The cats are starting to look at us like we're Little Friskees. Last night we spent the night with our good friends up in Aurora. It was quite a novelty. Turning the lights on and off.

I'm told by the newspaper to be patient. I wonder how patient Twitty would be if we kidnapped him and made him stay with us out in our house. I'm also told that there are only 15,000 people left without power. Why is it I know every one of them? And if they know how many people are without power, why don't they turn our lights back on instead of counting us?

We actually saw some CU workers in the neighborhood the other day. They kept going. We've seen more Mediacom trucks than City Utilities trucks. Maybe I'm confused, but what use is having cable if you don't have electricity to run it?

I finally bought a Coleman lantern the other day. I was sure that would get my power to come back on. Oh well. I'm building character. I've got so much character... I'm just ozzing with character. The only thing is, I can't see it because there are no frickin' lights!

Off to Hot Climes

2006-12-16T11:19:00.000-06:00

(and hoping not to return home a fierce invalid)

For my faithful readers... both of you... I will be gone for the next couple of weeks visiting my children in South America, Argentina to be exact. There I hope to answer many of those questions that have plagued humankind from the beginning of rational thought (sometime in the mid 1960s):

Do the toilets really flush backwards in the southern hemisphere?

Is it "Argentinian", "Argentine", or "Argentinean"? Or is it simply just "here" when you are there?

Does Argentina really not need to cry for Evita?

If I see a toucan, do I get Frootloops?

And does Mendozan wine really taste better in Mendoza?

The answers to these and many other questions await!

And now, a moral dilemma...

2006-12-16T11:11:00.000-06:00

You've just spent the semester at the local junior college with a student in your class who's just spent the entire semester writing about how he wishes he were still in the Corps, and how wrong it was that they threw him out just because he seemed to enjoy killing just a bit too much. But, hell, wasn't that why they wanted him in the Corps to begin with? And just because you install a camera on your scope and save all the pictures doesn't mean shit. That, and and every paper he's written was about how he can't stand pretty much anybody in authority, never could, including every teacher he's ever known, except maybe for Mrs. Francis in the first grade, because they all lie and are out to screw you over, and ain't it just about time that somebody put their sorry asses down?

What do you do when you discover that his final paper is not only a little bit plagiarized... you know, the "I can see how you could get confused" kind of plagiarism, but it's a whole lot plagiarized? You know, the "photocopy the entire thing out of the textbook and white out the author's name and write in yours -- before the white out was even dry" kind of plagiarism.

I mean, really, what do you do?

Ach! Dat Sun!

2006-12-11T14:22:00.000-06:00

I was watching TV yesterday and I saw the new Nissan commercial... You know, the one with "Iron Man" playing in the background. "Iron Man." You know, by Black Sabbath. What further proof do you need? Nissan is satanic! They want to pollute our minds and our high ways with their evil ways.

Of course, that could be a great marketing ploy. Imagine... The New Nissan 666, the only truck tough enough for Hell!

Christmas with Gramma

2006-12-06T12:15:00.000-06:00

Gramma gave me a crack pipe
last year on Christmas Eve.
Then the policemen came,
and she had to leave.

But now she's gone to jail,
and I guess it's just as well,
'cause she made lousy cookies anyway.

Oh, a marijuana leaf
can't be your mistletoe,
and your lines of cocaine
aren't the same as snow.

But it's true I'll miss you dear
'cause you always brought the beer,
and your brownies took the pain away.

Oh Gramma, you know that I love you.
Oh Gramma, you know that it's true.
And if we raise the bail
we'll get you out of jail
and have you home by Christmas day.

Midgets

2006-12-06T12:12:00.000-06:00

You know. Little people. I've been seeing a lot of them lately on TV. And I can't help but thinking, "Wow." You know, at least they're working. But I still can't help but thinking it would be like selling crack. "Hey, I know it's bad and I'm probably going to hell for it, but I need the work..."

Key Word: Functional

2006-12-06T10:21:00.000-06:00

I've decided to become a functional alcoholic. But then, isn't that everybody's goal in life? Be it alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, soap operas, or Jesus. Whatever it is that cushions you from reality. But, unfortunately, reality is still there waiting for us.

"When you're sober, your problems will still be there, and probably worse!" says that one person who pretends to care that you're slowly getting wasted.

And you reply, "But what if they're not (my problems, that is)? And even if they are, at least I got away from them for a while!"

Oh, Nancy! Where are you when we need you most?

Mario, Mario!

2006-12-06T10:14:00.000-06:00

Mario Andretti was in town last Tuesday (which, incidently -- or coincidently? -- was my wife's birthday). You remember Mario? Formula One, Indy 500? Vroom! Now, he's in Springfield, Missouri, on a Tuesday afternoon signing autographs at a tire store. Kinda makes you wonder if running into a brick wall at 200 miles an hour would've been such a bad thing.

That Time of Year

2006-12-06T10:00:00.000-06:00

Well I hate Christmas,
and New Years, too.
I hate all the music,
and I kinda hate you.

I hate Christmas movies,
and I hate Christmas lights.
I hate Christmas shopping,
and the parking lot fights.

I hate Christmas turkey,
and I hate Christmas trees.
I hate Christmas sweaters
with snowmen and holly leaves.

Well I hate Christmas,
and that is the truth.
But I kinda like eggnog,
as long as it's 90 proof.

I hate Christmas magic,
and I hate all the elves.
I really hate Santa,
and pretty much everyone else.

(OK, background singers...

(I hate Christmas.
Christmas time.
I hate Christmas.
I hate Chrismas rhymes

I hate Christmas.
Christmas time.
It's only better
with beer and wine.)

I hate Hanukkah and Kwanza,
and I hate Ramadan.
I hate the Winter Solstice;
I'll be glad when it's gone.

But I really hate Christmas,
in case you can't tell.
And year round Christmas,
would be year round hell.

(With my deepest apologies to John Lennon.)

Just Because It's Tuesday

2006-12-05T13:19:00.000-06:00

No country has existed forever, nor will it. People are what transend countries. Therefore, trust not in the country, foight not for the country, live not for the country, but do all of those things for the people. All people, everywhere.

The acquistion of superfluous goods (shopping) as a hobby should be a major indicator that our priorities are all screwed up. Competitive eating should be another.

And Yet More Bits and Pieces

2006-12-04T21:04:00.000-06:00

Why aren't there green mammals? Wouldn't that be perfect for hiding in the grass? I mean, a black cat is perfectly useless in the snow, just as a white cat is perfectly useless in the grass. Now green, on the other hand, would be perfect. There are green fish. There are green snakes and lizards and frogs and stuff. There are green birds. There's green everything except mammals. I think I'll dye my cat green.

OK. So here's a really bad idea. (Probably even worse than dying my cat green) I like to identify bad ideas before they actually happen, so if someone suggests them, then I already know it's a bad idea. Ready? Porn on Ice. The Sexcapades, if you will. Just a really bad idea for all sorts of reasons.

Something that just doesn't sound right: The Peoples' Republic of Canada.

And here's one. The other day when Bush was in Indonesia, this medicine man guy put a curse on him. I'm not making this up. He stood along side the road that Bush was going down and did whatever these guys do to put the curse on him. I know it involved the blood from a snake and two other animals I could look up if I really were that motivated, but I'm not. So... What was the curse? That Bush would feel uneasy and be slightly nausiated. Only slightly. Hell, that sounds like me on every vacation I've ever taken. Comon. What kind of curse is that? Even if it comes true, how is this guy ever going to take credit for it? I'm thinking of a real curse, like having Bush's toes grow together. Now that's the kind of curse a guy could be proud of.

And finally: The biggest mistake God made was thinking it was all so obvious that he wouldn't need to give us a book.

Shalom

2006-12-04T20:58:00.000-06:00

I'm certain my neighbor believes I've broken the truce. That would be the one where I agree not to have 70 people on my back patio at 10:30 and he agrees that his leaf blower he revs up at 8:00 a.m. every Saturday morning really wouldn't fit up his ass, and besides, I'm nonviolent, damnit, but while we're at it, shutup your godamned dog. There were a few finer points, mostly hashed over by our wives which I'm sure pissed him off even more because, side by side, there's no denying that my wife is better looking. Much. And she's got 10 years on his wife. If not in age, definitely experience. So there! But he's too dumb to realize that it wasn't us. It was the neighbors, moron! So he's retaliating -- as I write -- with his dog. Doesn't the dumbass know you can't retaliate unless you've been hit first? So this becomes a pre-emptive strike. And I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here and take an unprovoked pre-emptive strike on something I didn't do. Never mind that it doesn't make sense! Now were's my damned stereo speaker wires?

Look! Up in the Sky!

2006-11-27T20:25:00.000-06:00

This may seem petty, but so are the things that bother me. How does Superman ever change his clothes in a phone booth? Super powers or not, he's still hopping on one foot while trying to pull a shoe on the other. Good luck with that. And does he leave his clothes there? I mean, have you ever seen him leave the booth with his clothes? I know what a journalist makes, and I hardly think he can afford to keep buying cheap suits and stupid glasses. And what about his wallet? I mean, would you want to be the fool who found his credit card and thought, "Hmm...."

It's That Time of Year

2006-11-27T20:18:00.000-06:00

Not that I don't like my neighbor... I really do. He's a great guy. It's just that... well... You see, he decorates house professionally for Christmas -- North Pole Lighting, or something like that. And it's not that he just really decorates up his house. Heck no. He does the whole cul de sac. Every house. And the island in the middle. And all the lights dance to music that you can tune in to your car radio. I'm not kidding. You can see our neighborhood from outer space. If you did a lot of drugs back in the '70s, you'd think you were having a flashback. Or if you're planning on doing a lot of drugs, maybe you'd be having a flashforward. Check it out. It's on South Raven Place. Bring your radio.

Which leads me to tonight's thought provoking question: If your house were decorated for th holidays by homosexuals, would it be gaily lit? (Is that the right adverb? Should it be gayly? Is that even an adverb? Should it be?)

Freefall

2006-11-22T11:23:00.000-06:00

Somewhere between the fear that I will
and the fear that I won't,
lies the fear that I will just forget about it altogether.
Or maybe it's no fear at all.
But either way,
deep down I know,
skydiving is just not a good idea.

Cats

2006-11-22T11:11:00.000-06:00

My cat lives under the bed in my son's room. He hasn't always lived there, just since we got two more cats. We didn't plan to get two more cats. In fact, we had avoided even getting one more cat, especially after the nasty Josh's Cat incident. We were keeping a cat for Josh (therefore, Josh's cat) and Max was so nasty that first chance he got, Josh's cat was gone. I mean, we never saw him again, which was a helluva thing to have to expalin to Josh. So my son comes home one night with this cat. Solid black. Beautiful thing. It followed him. And after we checked the neighborhood I was inclined to believe him. So Eric wants to keep him. Even named him Mitsu -- or however it's spelled. And, of course, I'm thinking, "Good luck with that." What with Max and all. And, of course, Max is as nasty as ever, but Mitsu absolutely ignored him. It wasthe most amazing thing I've ever seen. It would've made Ghandi pround. And this goes on for, like, three months -- Max never getting any friendlier and Mitsu never caring one bit more. Then my daughter and her husband come through -- with their cat. They were taking Eli to a freind of theirs in Columbia who was going to watch him until they move. They really weren't intending to let Eli mix with our cats, but he did. Long story shorter, Mitsu and Eli hit it off. I mean, best buddies. Hey, whatcha doin'? Let's play! They hit it off so well that my daughter decided to leave him with us -- until March. Se we've got three cats. Unfortunately, Mitsue and Eli were just too much for Max. Now he just stays under the bed in my son's room. You can see his eyes from the stairs reflecting back. He only eats if you bring his food into the room. He'll sneak out from time to time, but never far. I have no idea what he's using for a litter box. He may not be going at all. Of course, in my son's room it would be hard to tell. The thing is, come March, Eli's gotta go. He's flying to Portland with a friend. They'll be on a plane. But we really like Eli. And he and Mitsu are really fun to watch. And Max never was much fun -- ever. He's just one of those cats... you know... psychotic. So, I'm thinking my daughter wouldn't know we've sent her Max until he gets there, and then it's too late.

It's All Perspective

2006-11-20T19:06:00.000-06:00

I was walking down the hall here at OTC and I saw these neat picture projects that a class was doing. What they did, pretty much, was take a picture so that it bent everything. It was like looking throught a pane of glass that has a distortion in it so that it warps everything you see.

This led to a what if. What if everybody's eyes warp reality. We all see things bent, but since everybody does, nobody knows the difference. Reality, then, would be based almost solely on perspective. And if so, then what is real?

And what if someone from another planet came here. Would they think us all strange? And if so, would he, she, it... or whatever they have on that planet, be right?

Remember when you were in school and they taught you that your eyes turn everything upside down, and then your brain turns it back over? Half of that is right. The half that isn't is that your brain doesn't turn it back over. Everything is upside down. We just call it right side up. Up and down is all a byproduct of perspective. In this case, collective perspective. But then, if everything is upside down, why doesn't my coffee spill?

And along those same lines (more or less), if you had a time machine on the moon and went back in time on the moon, would the earth go back in time, too?

More Proof that I Need a Life

2006-11-20T18:57:00.000-06:00

Platypus adolescents... do the guys go out on Friday nights looking for platypussy?

It Just Keeps Getting Weirder

2006-11-20T18:49:00.000-06:00

I read where the Boston Red Sox are paying some Japanese pitcher 51.1 million dollars just to talk to him. That's right. Just to talk. They're hoping that once they get through the door, he'll sign with them, for probably in the neighborhood of 22 million a year. 51.1 million! I can play baseball. I used to be a fairly decent infielder. Well, neighborhood sandlot, but that's not the point. The point is, they wouldn't have to pay me anywhere near that to talk to me. Hell, someone who is willing to pay that kind of jack...their time must be really valuable. And I wouldn't want to waste it. Heck, I'd take a 100,000 not to waste their time. That's right. For $100,000 (a fraction of 51.1 million, I might add) I won't even show up. Consdier it, White Sox guys. My offer won't last forever. And if the Yankees offer me more, well, I won't show up for them, either.

Top This Weirdness

2006-11-16T20:46:00.000-06:00

Did you know that right now, somewhere in Mexico, there are Mexicans working in a sweat shop playing video games. They are mining for gold or killing lizards for their skin or zarffing a zwolt or whatever the hell it is that they do in video games. Then, when they have amassed a bunch of gold or built a really cool tower or whatever, they auction it off on Ebay to the highest bidder for real money. No mierde. Some people are making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year selling cyber swords to cyber idiots. Is this a great country or what?

So, do you suppose they invest their money in the island developments off of the coast of the United Arab Emirants? There are people who are reselling houses that haven't been built yet on islands that don't exist yet, either. And the more times they're sold, the more valuable they get.

And here I am, thinking about earning a few extra bucks by advertising on my blog site.

ID Theft

2006-11-16T18:38:00.000-06:00

This is a really freaky story, see. It’s about this guy that I’ll call...nobody. That’s how people who run in those kind of circles like to be called. So anyway, this nobody, he steals this other fellow’s identification. Got all the information he needed off the World Wide Web. He could’ve justified that this other fellow had plenty of money and would never miss a few grand. But then, why would a fella have to justify anything, especially if he’s just trying to get by in the world, if you know what I mean. So anyway, like I was sayin’, he steals this other fella’s personality, a dentist by the name of Larry Ingles. I mean, Larry Ingles. Have you ever heard a more white bread name? I mean, it’s just the kind of name... Well, you know that anybody who would be named Larry Ingles would have the kind of sex life that would make a penguin envious. And the truth of it was, Larry Ingles was really that way. I mean, he couldn’t back the car out of the driveway without pissin’ himself. I’m not kiddin’. I have no idea how he ever survived as a dentist. Maybe he was one of those idiot savants. You know, like Rainman, only with teeth. So, to tie all this in, when that nobody stole this loser’s ID, he actually became the loser. I mean, not only did he have his identity, but he had his entire life. Like, see, suddenly he’s standing in this guy’s bathroom starin’ back at himself in a mirror, only the guy he sees ain’t him. It’s this Larry Ingles guy. No f---in’ shit. And he realizes in a hurry that he had just better keep his mouth shut. I mean, you go tellin’ people that you’re somebody else... they lock you up. There was no problem with this guy’s wife. You know, they say most women can tell the difference between one man and another in bed? I don’t really know. After all, I pretty much guess all women feel about the same. You turn out the lights, dude, you could be with anybody. And I often am. But... um... oh yeah. So he was thinkin’ this other guy’s wife might know the difference in the sack, and he knows that he couldn’t turn down any... ever... if you know what I mean. But she has absolutely no interest in sex whatsoever. Just for shits one night he says, “How about a blow job?” And she spends the rest of the evening crying in the shower. Hell, I don’t know what half of that has to do with anything, but ... Oh yeah. This guy becomes a dentist. I mean, he is a dentist. He actually knows how to do it. And after a while, aside from his wife being just plain weird, he gets to really liking his job. Well, he’s getting a little strange on the side, but his wife certainly doesn’t give a shit. This guy really gets into cleaning teeth and drilling and stuff like that. Maybe it was the sadistic side in him. I mean, if you were some weirdo who got into hurting other people.... Wow. I mean, being a dentist is it. So one day... we’re talkin’ probably 19 years... he’s getting ready to retire. I mean, if you don’t see this one comin’, well.... I’ll tell you anyway. You guessed it. He gets his identification stolen, and he becomes this guy who is sittin’ on the sofa in his underwear trying to decide if he has time to masturbate before his wife gets out of the shower. Which makes him look even more incredibly stupid, because there he is, with his wang in his hand going for broke, when the police kicked open the door. I mean, there was no warning – Nothing. Well, nothing except ol’ whatshisname sittin’ there polishing his pipe, if you know what I mean. They haul him away for identification theft. Seems he had been tryin’ to steal all these people’s identifications. And he lived in one of those states that had a three strike law. You know, on your third offense, they lock you up until you’re so old that no one would screw you even if you could get it up. And, of course, they made sure he never got near a computer ever again. I guess that pretty well ties everything up, except that first guy that got switched. But then, I have no idea whatever happened to that dude.

Freedom Is Free

2006-11-13T19:02:00.000-06:00

This is purely a case of linguistics. I'm talking about the bumper sticker. I've seen it on church marquees. I'm talking about the catch phrase: Freedom is not Free. This phrase has bothered me for a long time, because, like so many church marquees and bumper stickers, they sound good but they just don't make a lick of sense if you think about them. And I think I finally have a handle on it. Freedom, by definition, must be free.

To qualify myself up front: I believe, unfortunately, that from time to time we must defend our country and others. We must be prepared to stop aggressors and to prevent inhumane treatment of people everywhere. And, equally unfortunate, that will cost lives. My father was one of those who fought for what we call freedom. He was on Tiapan and Iwo Jima. He saw the famous flag as it was being raised. It messed him up. But I digress.

My father, like almost every veteran (maybe even me), has paid the cost for what we call freedom. It doesn't matter who pays for it. If it is paid for, it is not free. No argument on that point.

But, technically speaking, it's not freedom. We have limited rights. But we are not truly free. No one is. No one can be. I mean, are we really free to drive to Denver tonight? Certainly, I could, but I'd catch hell for it tomorrow. Well, I'd still be getting there tomorrow, but you get my point. My boss would wonder what the hell I'm doing in Denver. So would my wife. So would I. The point is, there would be a price to pay. There is always a price to pay. For anything. Go back to Econ 51. Opportunity cost. If you don't know what that is... Dude, get an education. Of course, that's not free either.

The point is, nothing is free. Therefore, there is truly no freedom. It's what we, in the linguistic business, call a utopic concept. However, if there were (freedom, that is), it would have to be free.

Wow. Was that as confusing as I think it wasn't?

And While We're on the Subject...

2006-11-13T18:48:00.000-06:00

It's one of the curses of having a background in linguistics. When I drive down the road and I see bumper stickers... or church marquees... or whatever... I'm more inclined to ask, "What the hell?" For instance...

I've seen several billboards lately that say, "Embryos are babies." In these instances, white babies, but I digress. I realize what these people are trying to convey, their anti-choice, let a white, male judge decide which women should and should not get an abortion. But that's not my point. At least, not tonight. Begging to differ... Embryos are not babies. That's why they're called an embryo. If Embryos were babies, people would look at your newborn and say, "Oh, what a cute embryo!" The word embryo exists to denote a life form that cannot live outside the uterus. And if they can, hey! then they're babies.

While on that subject, I saw a license plate today that said, "Choose Life." What does it take to get a plate like that created? You know, they're like the ones that denote you're an alum, or have a purple heart, or that you're opposed to child abuse. Nothing wrong with any of those. But do you suppose the state would allow ones that say, "Choose abortion"? Or maybe "Have a choice"?

Have you notice the restaurants around town that offer a 10% discount on Sundays if you bring in your church bulletins? If you're an atheist, would they still give you a 10% discount if you brought in a blank piece of paper?

Speaking of church, if you blew up a Catholic church on a Sunday morning, would you have to use a weapon of mass destruction?

I was driving down Republic tonight, and I noticed Wesley United Methodist Church has a Kid's Club. Wow. That club must really suck. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if you were that one kid, but how would you like to be all the other kids who can't join? Maybe someone ought to tell the pastor the difference between a plural possessive and a singular possessive. Or maybe not.

Meanwhile, down the street from Wesley, there is a church that has a sign out front that says, "We have a place for you." That's all I need. A bunch of evangelicals putting me in my place.

And finally, Nixa High School is putting on Joseph's Technicolour Dream Coat. Wow. Maybe somebody ought to explain the separation of church and state.

A History of the Future #2

2006-11-04T11:48:00.000-06:00

"Hypernet Crazes"
(April through August, 2017)

From its inception, there had been many crazes on the Internet, then the Al Gore Memorial Super Highway, and finally the Hypernet. For instance, the selling of pieces of wrecked space craft, body parts, and even children. However, the most bizarre craze began on April 17, 2017, when Clarence Tu Tzu Williams, as a joke, offered his soul for sell on the popular site, buyit.now.

Even though souls had been offered for sell on the Internet in the past, most notably, President Gore's, the craze began in earnest when Tzu's soul sold for just under 20,000 adjusted new dollars. Said Tzu, "What's a soul, anyway? It's somebody else's idea of nothing. If someone wants to pay me for nothing, I'll take their cash, but I'd prefer euros." The starting bid had only been 50 a.n.d.

Soon souls were the most offered commodity on the Hypernet. A standardized, notarized title, was even developed for souls. It is estimated that by early August, 2017, between 1.5 and 2.2 million souls were sold and bought on buyit.now. However, in August, a young computational discovered that all of the souls had been purchased by only one individual. That person's name was never revealed, but it is estimated that he or she paid close to 1.3 billion adjusted new dollars, a record that has stood for over 300 years for any individual or corporation. The souls were never offered for resale.

Soon after, the craze ended.

Fun With Language

2006-11-04T11:38:00.000-06:00

I got to thinking about the phrase "cheap whore" the other day. Maybe if I lived closer to work I wouldn't have so much time on my hands, but I digress. While thinking about all the cheap whores I've ever known, I realized I've never know any. I have, on the other hand, known some pretty expensive whores. Completely out of my price range. So it got me to thinking...how can I earn more money? No, that wasn't it. It got me to thinking about the entire phrase. And I realized that I had never heard anyone called an expensive whore before, at least, not as an insult. In fact, it would probably be more of a compliment. As far as that goes, I've never heard anyone called a moderately priced whore, either. Although I'm sure there are some. You know, accepts coupons. Two-fer Tuesdays. That sort of thing. Wow, this is an easy subject to get off on. (Have fun with that last line, you perverted punsters out there.)

So, before I get totally silly here, I've come to the conclusion that the problem isn't that someone is a whore, it's just that she (or he) is a cheap whore. Have some self-pride, for Vishnu's sake. Charge more!

A History of the Future

2006-11-02T09:51:00.000-06:00

Through what I can only describe as truly weird, my computer has been getting emails from the future. It all began when I tried to illegally download the song "Time Warp" from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Now, from time to time, I am receiving entries from Dr. Ivan Tupidsay IX's A Concise History of Everything, which was (or will be, depending on your perspective) published in 2420. As I receive these various entries, I will share them with my loyal readers.

Today's entry: The Aryan Nation

The Aryan Nation officially claimed its independence from the United States of America on September 19, 2032, in what was formally a remote section of southwest Missouri.

Lawrence "Larry" Hitler, who claimed to be the great-great-great-grand nephew of the infamous German leader, declared himself to be the Furor of this new "nation."

Hitler declared the Aryan Nation to be "A land free from the dilution of the white race by foreigners and [blacks]. A place where our women, both of them, can be safe. A place where hard-working white folk would not be in danger of losing their jobs to ...[immigrants]." Unfortunately, there were no jobs in that part of the country. Said Larry, "Yeah, that may be so. But I'll be damned if any [person of non-Aryan desent] is going to take away what I don't have!"
Prior to the declaration of the country's independence, urged by the writings of Larry Hitler, members of the Aryan Nation had been concentrating in southwest Missouri, purchasing land and forcing those who did not believe in their desire to have an all white Aryan homeland out of that area, often with violence.

Even though the United States did not officially recognize the Aryan Nation, they did not send in troops to stop them, either. Instead, with the help of peace keeping troops from the United States of South America, they isolated the entire nation and its purported 250,000 "citizens," many of whom moved there during the early days of the nation. Said Fernando Vasquez, head of the USSA, "You're kidding, right? You really want to let these [people who are not very nice] spread their insanity? You know, actually it's kinda nice to have them all in one place. They're easier to watch that way."

Even though it is estimated that over 100,000 refugees fled to Arkansas, where nobody knew the difference, it wasn't the blockade that ultimately brought the Aryan Nation to an end. Says historian Lewis Nurdlebutz, "It was Larry Hitler himself. Increasingly the Nation's credo changed from 'You must be one of us' to 'You must be me.'"

By the spring of 2034, the only people left in the Aryan Nation was Larry Hitler and a few families living in a trailer part just outside of Clever, MO, who never knew they were part of the Aryan Nation to begin with. "Times have always been hard," said Jacob Luden. "I just figured when I didn't get my gov'ment check for two year that the mail was just goin' slower than usual."

By the summer of 2034, Larry Hitler had disappeared. It is widely believed that he was eaten by the black bears that had been reintroduced to that part of country during the late 20th century. The land comprising the former Aryan Nation was subsequently inhabited by the members of the United States of South America's peace keeping force, who didn't have enough gas to get back home anyway. Said Luis Gonzalaz, "I always wanted to live in America."

As stated by the former Vice-Furor of the Aryan Nation, Wendell Auhswitz, "Well, hell, that didn't work."

I'm Not Making This Up

2006-10-24T12:52:00.000-05:00

(or, Charley, You'er in Trouble)

So I'm sitting around last night and the phone rings, as it's wont to do, especially with the mid-term elections fast approaching. And on the other end of the phone was a young man who wanted to speak with me, but only because I'm a registered voter.

He identified himself as a caller for Charley Denison, who's running for reelection for something or the other -- Charley, not the guy who called me. After my phone call with Charley's worker, I only have one question for Mr. Denison: How the hell did you ever get elected the first time?

So this young man asks me if I were planning on vothing for Denison, and I asked him, "Does Charley support George W. Bush?" And the young man said, "I'm not sure. Mr. Denison is a Democrat, if that answers your question." To which I replied, "No. Just because he's a Democrat doesn't mean he doesn't support Bush." The young man countered, "I don't know. I don't know any of his personal beliefs." I should've stopped there, but it was too easy. Undaunted, I pursued my line of questioning. I asked, "Does Mr. Denison support the war in Iraq?" Once again he answered that he didn't know. In fact, he didn't know any of Mr. Denison's "personal beliefs." So I just straight out asked him if he were planning on voting for Mr. Denison. To which he softly answered (and, no, I'm not making this up): "No. I'm sorry." Then he mumbled something that could've been good night, or "I'm going to find a rope, now." After which he hung up.

Wow. This whole campaigning process is so enlightening. I wish more people would call. You know, usually I vote Democrat, but in Mr. Denison's case, I believe I'll make an exception. Wow. Just Wow.

So, Which do You Get?

2006-10-23T19:58:00.000-05:00

I was in a fender bender yesterday. It could've been very serious. The guy that hit me was doing everything he could to keep from killing several families, all because someone up in front of us did something stupid. So I'm looking at my van and thinking, what the hell? I even tell the guy that all we have to do is exchange insurance info. I'll pay my deductible, he can pay his, and we'll live a good life.

But he wants to call the cops. He wasn't from Springfield. I told him not to. I told him, "Dude, if you call the cops, they will write you a ticket." He says, "Why would they write me a ticket?" And I said, "Because you hit me." To which he replies, "But I had no choice." And I said, "It won't matter." So he called the cops. And they wrote him a ticket.

In the process, we were both trying to talk the cop out of giving this guy a ticket, and the cop gets hateful with both of us. Go figure. Thank you Officer Friendly.

So, after this encounter, I'm thinking of two different cop stories. One happened when I had two very small children riding with me in an old '72 AMC station wagon. I had just purchased a new screen door for my house and was heading home when the entire door flew out of the back of the station wagon in the middle of an intersection. I got the door back in, miraculously unbroken, but in the process my car ran out of gas. I was trying to walk to the gas station with a 4 year old and a 2 year old when a cop came by and picked us all up. He took me and my kids to the station, and then, after I had bought the gas, took us back to the car. Then he waited until I got it going again. That was such a great experience, especially for my kids.

But then there's Darcy. Darcy is a very good friend of mine. He happens to be of colour. No one's really sure what colour Darcy is, but he's definitely not white. His wild, bushy hair and funky beard don't help any. So Darcy is going down the road and gets pulled over because he has a tail light burned out, or something equally as stupid. Even though Darcy was fully cooperative, they ended up beating him and hauling him off to jail. Trust me, it had nothing to do with Darcy, who is one of the most honest, gentle souls I know. He just happens to look like... well... someone who doesn't teach at MSU or own his own recording studio. His only real crime? Trying to be pleasant. Cops don't like smart asses.

So the thing is, I know there are good cops out there. I've met them. And I know there are bad cops out there too. Like the one I met on Sunday. Like the 10 or so Darcy got to know very well. But the problem is, how do you know which is which? I mean, they don't wear name badges. You know, like Asshole 1st Class. And that leaves only one choice: Don't trust any of them. Which is a shame. I'm just glad my kids are grown.

Nickels

2006-10-23T19:57:00.000-05:00

OK, I’ll admit it: I collect coins. I know. I’m finally out of the closet. My dweebiness is confirmed. I’m a numismaticist. Or however it’s spelled. I collect world coins, mostly. Mine’s an odd obsession. I want to collect the most worthless coins from every country in the world. And I’m darned near there.

So here’s the point. I don’t specifically collect American coins because, quite frankly, they’re boring. I mean, look at the old quarters. Many of the new state quarters are cool, but after 2008 we’ll probably go back to the old ones. OK, maybe that wasn’t a great example. Well, how about the pennies. The dimes. Even the half dollars and the full dollars. How boring can you get?

And then there’s the nickel. During the Lewis and Clark celebration, we got to see four different designs on the back of the nickel. Some were rather lame, but you gotta love the buffalo. That’s gotta be the coolest coin that the treasury has put out…well, since we had buffalo head nickels, when ever that was. (Yeah, I know, a good numistaticist would know that. Let it go.)

But then, what do we do? We go back to Monticello. Monticello! How lame! It’s bad enough we get that stupid front view of Jefferson. But Monticello! Of all the things that we have to put up with in the United States, and now we have to put up with a lame nickel. I’m going to Canada. They’ve got loons on their coins. I ought to fit right in.

Those Things I Think About

2006-10-21T11:39:00.000-05:00

If a bear were to eat the Pope, would the bear shit the Pope in the woods?

The Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch Newsletter #14

2006-10-20T12:44:00.000-05:00

Iraq

My Fellow Americans:

Having recently returned from a fact-finding trip to Las Vegas, I was shocked and surprised to find my office embroiled in a sexual scandal. This was obviously a ploy that was manufactured by my opponents to keep the focus off the real issues, which, as we all know, is the United States’ continued involvement in Iraq.

Whereas I am loathe to give any of these rumors credence at all, I feel that the scandal has reached such proportions that I must face these accusations head on if any real, meaningful work is to be done. Therefore, let me set the facts straight.

First of all, it is impossible for my office to be embroiled in scandal because I don’t even have an office. Secondly, I don’t have email. Third, I don’t have any pages. And finally, even if I did have pages, I can assure you with unwavering certainty, as my ceaseless work with the sheep farming industry attests to, that I have no sexual interests in little boys. If any of these young boys’ mothers, or older sisters would like to personally discuss any of these accusations, I would be more than willing.

Having put that unpleasant issue behind us, so to speak, I would like now to address the real issue of the day: Our course of action in Iraq.

There are many people in America who would like to see our troops leave Iraq. They would like for us to cut and run, to abandoned all the good that we have done there. Unfortunately, the liberal press has distorted that good or failed to report it at all. But be assured, we are doing good in Iraq. Case in point:

Before the United States invaded Iraq, it was a country of uncertainty. Now it is a country that is certainly bad. And certainty is good.

We have brought excitement to their lives. Imagine taking a road trip and trying to guess what will blow up next. That’s way more fun than trying to find license plates from all 50 states.

We have also brought an appreciation for life to the Iraqi people. How many of us in America leave home every day and assume that we will see our loved ones again? Imagine the things you would wish you had said or done if they were to die during the day. I can assure you that no Iraqi leaves the house in the morning and assumes that they well ever return, or that there will be a house to return to.

In addition we have brought the country closer to God. In many cases, really close. And who is so cynical to chide spirituality?

And, I am assured, eventually there will be democracy in Iraq. Imagine the joy these people will feel when they are able to have fair, open, honest elections with people who truly represent the average citizen and will always strive to do what is best for everybody, not just themselves or some special interest that has paid them an obscene amount of money. Just like we have in the United States.

More importantly than the Iraqis though, are our soldiers. If we were to cut and run now, we would be doing a dishonor to those people that have already died. With every new death in Iraq we show that those who have died before have not died in vain. 3000 deaths and 300 billion dollars is a small price to pay.

It is important that we hold the course in Iraq. It is important that we prove to the American people that this war can be won. After all, we must prove to terrorists everywhere that America will not be pushed around. We must prove that we will not hesitate to ruthlessly kill as many people as it might take, guilty and innocent alike (although we deeply regret it when innocent citizens are killed, and I’m certain that they and their loved ones understand that that is the cost of war). Unless the United States is willing to stand strong in the face of our enemies, how else can they learn to be like us? How else will they come to understand that we only want the best for the world, which is an unending supply of oil?

Finally, I would ask that we be tolerant of those people who oppose the war, no matter how treasonous they might be. After all, they are free to express their opinions, even if they are obviously wrong. We should embrace these dissenters. And what better place to embrace them than working as a page for our elected lawmakers.

The Culture of Violence

2006-10-16T19:55:00.000-05:00

Violence in schools has always been a concern to everyone involved: students, parents, teachers, administrators, and the entire public. One source of ongoing, ever-present violence in our schools that has been singled out, and rightly so, is bullying. This is where one student, or a group of students, forces their will on other students, often through violence. Those students being bullied often feel powerless, and, on occasion, have struck out against those bullying them and those who have allowed them to be bullied. Columbine is the best, and the most tragic, example.

Bullying can take many forms, from the stereotypical thug to the preppy students who simply believe they have a right to be at the front of the lunch line and dare anyone to tell them no. However, the results are the same. Students are denied their equality, and often their dignity, through an act of force, either threatened, implied, or actual, by others.

Many solutions to bullying have been proposed, such as having students discuss their concerns with peers as well as trusted adults, reporting bullying, staying in groups, or learning self-defense. Arming teachers has even been considered. All of these solutions may have merit, but ultimately, they will all fail. They will fail because they fail to address the real problem, and that is that we live in a violent society that ultimately rewards violence. America embraces a culture of violence, and in this culture violence, virtually any violence, can ultimately be justified.

Everywhere in our society violence is accepted, if not encouraged. This includes military incursions, the death penalty, handgun ownership (ostensibly for self-defense), spanking children, and corporal punishment in our schools. Indeed, there are those who argue that the problem with our society is that we are not violent enough. Children aren’t hit enough when they are young, prisons don’t kill enough prisoners, and our military is not willing to wipe out entire cultures if necessary.

The message is clear, or at least it should be. It is not violence that’s the problem; it’s the ways in which that violence is applied that is the problem. And for children, the finer nuances can be very difficult, if not completely impossible, to understand. For instance, it’s not acceptable to hit someone who cuts in front of you in line, but it is acceptable to hit someone who repeatedly says things you don’t like, but probably not right away. If you’ve put up with it for an unspecified amount of time, then it is acceptable. But what if a kid cuts in front of you while saying bad things? Maybe the child who strikes another for “mouthing” him or her will be punished by the school, but the violence will be justifiable to that child’s friends, and quite possibly her or his parents, and definitely to that child. In short, retaliation is acceptable. Preemptive strikes are even acceptable.

Until we find some other way of solving our problems than through violence, then somebody will always end up on the bottom. And that somebody will not like it. We shouldn’t be surprised when that somebody strikes back, even if we don’t deem it to be appropriate.

The solution is that we need to teach non-violence. We need to teach our children that violence is not acceptable and will not be tolerated in any form, ultimately not even in self-defense. This would be a radical shift from contemporary teaching. In history, for instance, we would need to teach that war is not something to be glorified, but to be studied as a way to prevent it. That war is the ultimate human failure. We would need to teach that chances of birth are not the basis for superiority. That greed is wrong. That nothing can justify harming someone else, or denying those things basic for survival, including the freedom from fear, to anybody. We would need to teach that everybody is imbued with a social responsibility that cannot be shirked. Admittedly, this will not be an easy task. And, perhaps the hardest of them all, if we don’t want our children to be violent, then we must not be violent, either, both in action and in thought.

There are many who will say that teaching non-violence in a violent world is naive. And certainly we cannot simply abandon all of our defenses on the hope that others will be non-violent, too. However, unless we go after the root of the problem, unless that is our ultimate goal, then all we are doing is teaching children to be appropriately violent, not to be non-violent. And not that violence is ultimately wrong. And if that is what we are teaching, then we shouldn’t be surprised when violence continues.

After this word from our sponsors...

2006-10-15T12:42:00.000-05:00

Larry had always supposed his life was good. I mean, when you weigh the good and the bad and all. But isn't that what you're supposed to believe? I mean, if you're normal and all? Maybe even if you're not.

And the thing was, he and his family always looked good together. I mean, they always made this great looking family. Mother, father, little girl. Like they could've been on TV making commercials.

And that's exactly what happened. This car company's ad exec saw them all at the museum one Sunday. The art museum. They went there about once a month. Mostly just to see if the exhibits had changed. They hadn't.

So anyway, this ad exec sees them, and he thinks they'd be perfect in one of their mini-vans. You know, the All-American family that everyone wants to be. Maybe you can't be that beautiful, but you can buy that van.

So they do. Not buy a van, but agree to be in the commercial. Aside from the fact that it's just cool, they were paying them just a bucket-load of money. Well, Union plus 10%, but hell, times that by three. And remember, there's no cut for the agent.

Well, here's the deal, see. They just get ready to shoot the commercial and some artistic dude says that Larry just wasn't right for the role. And the thing was, he couldn't say exactly what it was about Larry that wasn't right. Only that he wasn't right. And that was that.

So they brought in this other guy to play Larry's part. Well, to play Larry. An actual actor. They still paid Larry and all. I guess they paid that other guy, too. I mean, do you suppose it matters to those guys?

So they go ahead and make this commercial. And it really was a hit. Well, as far as commercials go. And even Larry had to admit that this other guy played Larry better than he could.

So Larry's family is doing really well because this $70,000 bird had laid an egg in their livingroom. I mean, really, think of how many of your problems would go away with a quick $70,000. Even if you take out the taxes, which they did.

The only thing was, the more Larry saw the commercial -- and they played it all the time -- the more he came to realize that he'd done absolutely nothing to earn it. I mean, that sounds like something that once you realized it, you'd be done. But it doens't work that way. And the more you realize it, the more you want it to go away.

You can buy a lot of liquor with $70,000. And liquor will help you forget a lot. All of your problems. Your job. And the fact that you used to be married to a beautiful woman with a beautiful child.

And then one day you stop remembering altogether. Which is good. Because you forgot all about that bright light you're supposed to see.

Cats

2006-10-15T12:40:00.000-05:00

What do cats do at night while you're sleeping? They lay close by quietly purring, "Leave the money to the cat. Leave the money to the cat."

The Kansas City Curse

2006-10-15T12:31:00.000-05:00

Wow. There I was. Sitting. Thinking. And it all became so clear. Why the Kansas City Royals suck. So bad. So really, really bad. It's the Curse of Kansas City. Back in the 1985 World Series, game 6, the Royals sold their soul for that call at first. I mean, I'm a die-hard Royals' fan, and even I admit that was an awful call. I've spent the last 20+ years telling all of my Cardinal fans friends (many of whom weren't even alive at the time but still bitch about it) to get over it. But now I realize that it's KC that's screwed. We can never have another winning season. That was the cost of one World Series.

OK. I know that there are some of you out there who are saying, "But hasn't KC had a winning season since then? What about '86? What about 2003?" What about shut the hell up, already. That's just the devil (aka, Don Deckenger) messing with us. He doesn't have to let us have a winning season, he just does it to make us think we can. Like it's actually possible that we could win another series some day. He also sends players like Beltran, Tucker, Damon, and Dye through our organization, just to make us think: Damn! I mean, what else would the devil want you to think?

And this isn't any 100 year curse. This isn't anything that being nice to goats will stop. Uh huh, baby, this is forever. Oh, there was no joy in Mudville, the might Royals f***ed up.

More Marquee Fun!

2006-10-14T09:51:00.001-05:00

It's going to be hard to beat this one. There's a church on north National with the following message out front:

Women's Retreat. Everyone Welcome.

Get Out of the Way!

2006-10-13T12:24:00.000-05:00

Hey buddy, are you stupid or somethin’?
Or is it that you just don’t care?
There’s a row of traffic stretched out behind you
and the road up ahead is clear.

Get out of my way!
Get out of my way!

If you’re handicapped I can understand,
but the pedal still goes to the floor.
If you’re old or on the phone,
I’ll tell you what I said before:

Get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

Put your foot on the gas
or let me pass,
just get the hell out of the way!

Get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

I’ve got places to go
and things to do
and I’d like to do them today!

So get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

Hey stupid! The light’s turned green
why are you still sittin’ there?
Are you waiting for a personal invitation
or a colour that will match your hair?

Get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

It’s a passing lane, so pass already!
Yeah, buddy, it’s you I’m talkin’ to.
You may not have to be to work on time,
but just maybe the rest of us do!

So put your foot on the gas.
Just move your ass,
and get the hell out of the way!

Get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

I’ve got places to go
and things to do
and I’d like to do them today!

So get out of the way!
Get out of my way!

A full stop for a right hand turn?
At least the highway’s finally free.
A whole lane just to myself...
But wait, who’s honkin’ at me?

The Word for the Day...

2006-10-07T12:35:00.000-05:00

...is Hubris.

Basically hubris is overblown pride. It's thinking you know more, or for that matter just as much, as God. God with a big "G." The opposite of Hubris is humility. Do you remember that part in the Bible that says being Humble is a good thing? Remember that part that says Hubris is not?

Now that your vocabulary has been expanded, the next time you're driving down the road and see a bumper sticker that says the car will be unmanned when the rapture comes, or the next time you drive by a church and the marquee says something like, "The difference in me and God is that God never thinks he's me," then you'll know which word to use. Hint: It's not Humble.

It's not that the car in front of you won't be manned, or that God never thinks he's me, it's just that... Wow! How can anybody pretend to know what God is thinking?

Religious Advice: Always be cautious of anybody who is absolutely certain that he or she knows that God is thinking.

So I've decided to get a bumper sticker made: Stop quoting me on bumper stickers. God

What I Think About While Driving

2006-10-05T08:21:00.000-05:00

Not that driving has anything to do with it, but...

Is Sexually Inactive the opposite of Sexually Active?

OK... here's the problem. The problem with being a writer is keeping it in the present tense. I'm writing right now, so therefore I am a writer. I can still make that claim later on this afternoon, even though I'm not writing at the time. But what about tomorrow? Sure, I'm thinking about things I would like to write, but am I still a writer? I mean, at what point do I have to say I was a writer? 6 months? A year? 6 weeks from the next full moon?

Oh, yeah, you're saying that it's subjective. You're saying that as long as I think of myself as a writer then I am a writer. Right. You'll probably also be saying, "Dude, who does he think he's fooling? I mean, how can he possibly call himself a writer if he hasn't written anything since 1973, and then that was for a sophomore English class, and it really wasn't that good?"

But then, we're not really talking about writing here, are we? We're talking about something much more important: Sex. At what point does somebody say, "Dude, you haven't been laid since 1973, and then it really wasn't that good"?

But then, maybe it's best that it were to remain subjective. Imagine the stress, the anxiety, it would cause if you knew that there were only 17 days left until you became sexually inactive. And I'm certain women would have different standards then men. What do I mean would?

Royals Blow Another Season

2006-10-02T18:53:00.000-05:00

KC had a chance at the coveted title: Worst Team in All the Major Leagues, but we blew it by winning the final three games of the season. Kansas City finished at 62-100 while Tampa Bay squeaked out a 61-101. All we had to do was lose one game to tie. Now there's a tie breaker no one would watch.

On the winning side, the Amazing Michael will now make his amazing prediction for the World Series. Actually, I made it about two weeks ago, which is even more amazing, considering my two picks weren't even certainties. Yep, you guessed it. San Diego will beat Detroit in 7 games. It should be good.

To all my friends out there who are Cardinal fans (both of you): Dudes! You're just kidding yourself. Live in the now! And by the way, stop bitching alreay about game 6 of the '85 World Series. There was a game 7. Of course, Cardinal fans convenient forget that game. Let's see, who was KC's most valuable player for that game? Oh, yeah. Joachin Andujar.

And the herbs of the meadows...

2006-09-23T12:27:00.000-05:00

Here's one of those thought questions: Can Christians be stoners? I mean, does it say anywhere in the bible where God doesn't want us to get toasted? Is there some prohibition that will keep stoners out of Heaven? Seriously. I can't remember anything in the bible that says, "Thou shalt not get high." I mean, I can't imagine Saint Peter saying, "I'm sorry. You lived a great life. You helped out your fellow man. And you professed Jesus Christ as your savior, but...well...you liked the gange a little too much." (Sound of flushing) "Next!"

R is for Red...Red Necked Mother

2006-09-23T12:18:00.000-05:00

One of my students commented that he is often perceived as a dumb redneck. According to him, he's not a dumb redneck. He's a smart redneck. Now, in all fairness, I don't know this guy well enough to comment on him personally... But it did raise an interesting question: What's a redneck? And then, is it possible to be a smart one? If redneck is truly a bad thing to be (and I'm not necessarily saying it is), then is choosing to be one a smart thing to do?

OK, back to the original questions: What is a redneck?

No, really, I don't know. I've always assumed that it was someone who was a racist, sexist, opinionated hick. As such, the only difference between a redneck and a generic asshole was cowboy boots. But is that fair? I'll have to ask him and get back to you on this one.

Comon...If anybody reads this at all...What is a redneck?

Thought for the Day

2006-09-23T12:17:00.000-05:00

The problem with lying is not that people won't believe us when we tell the truth, it's that they will believe us when we don't.

Last Thursday

2006-09-21T11:29:00.000-05:00

What if... What if everybody were to realize that nobody has a memory of last Thursday? I mean, what did you do last Thursday? And how do you know you really did it and just don't think you did?

Lawn Mower Epiphanies

2006-09-21T10:30:00.000-05:00

Some of my best epiphanies come while mowing the lawn. Who knows why. Maybe it's that gnarly power thing, where you have control of a machine that sprays death nad mutilation all around it. Maybe it's all that noise drowning out all but the most basic thoughts. Maybe it's because I get more than gas from my garage before heading out to mow. Who knows.

So, there I was mowing and it occurred to me: The Muslims are no more violent than the Christians. Given their way, radical Christians would stone, hang, and behead with the best of 'em. And the moderate Christians wouldn't stop them. The liberal Christians would probably be some of those getting stoned. (Dude!) No. Not that kind of stoned. (Oh. Sorry.)

The key phrase is "given their way." What it comes down to is a difference in government. Your really nasty Islamic countries are theocracies. Church law (in this case, Shari) is civil law. In Christian countries, there's a difference between the two. Take away the difference, make sure your passport is up to date.

I'd suggest some place like, say, Tahiti. I used to say Tuvalu, but then I found out that Tuvalu is only 8 feet above sea level, and that's not an average. Talk about some people who are seriously worried about global warming. And if you were there, there might be a tend to get religious, seeming as the world sea level rises...what? About a half inch a year? You get the idea.

I suppose Tahiti might worry a bit about that, too, but from what I hear, Tahiti is so beautiful that nobody really cares about much of anything, anyway. That's why Tahiti would be good. The better your life, the less need of religion. As far as that goes, the less need for laws. The less need for government.

But at any rate, the lawn looks really nice.

Koppel Makes His Move

2006-09-19T09:46:00.000-05:00

Late last year HGP reported that Ted Koppel was not only planning on taking over the United States, but that he was ultimately wanting to be God. The plot has thickened. Through extensive speculation and no research whatsoever, we now have it on good authority (our own) that it was Koppel who wrote Pope Benedictine's recent speech that so inflamed the Islamic community. We actually have no idea what was in the speech; that would have required reading. But we do know Koppel's motive. He wants the Islamofascists to kill the Pope.

Koppel, who reportedly (by us) has converted to Catholicism, would then be eligible to become the next pope: Pope Theodore the 1st.

Ted. Ted. Ted! Is there no stopping Koppel?

And, of course, once Ted becomes the Pope, he's just a puff of smoke away from being God. And to think, it all started on Nightline, or maybe a station somewhere before that.

Factory Bible Outlet

2006-09-18T09:45:00.000-05:00

Yes, there really is a Factory Bible Outlet. I think it might be in Branson. Of course, that begs the question: "What the hell is a Factory Bible Outlet?"

If there is a Factory Bible Outlet, then there must be a Bible Factory. How does that work? Do they have an assembly line? I can just see them standing there with their pneumatic screwdrivers and wire ties. Do the new guys have to start in Genesis? If you get fired, do they send you to Exodus? Or is the whole thing robotic. I could just see the whole line shut down because they didn't get the shipment of Acts.

And where is the factory? Has it been shipped down to Mexico? How about India? Do you really trust a Bible that was manufactured in India?

And do they have seconds? "Yeah, that's our discount table. That batch is missing Dueteronomy. They had to send it back because no one knew how to spell Dueteronomy. But other than that, they're just fine... we think."

And what kind of person would want a discount Bible?

Of course, what kind of person would actually wonder about things like this?

Observations from the Road

2006-09-18T08:35:00.000-05:00

One of my driving pastimes is to read the church marquees. I finally have proof that these are shared. Well, not necessarily proof... OK, so here's the deal. There's a church marquee just west of Republic that has out front: "Don't wait for six strong men to take you to church." Or something like that. Never mind that if you never went to church, why would you want a church funeral? But I saw the exact same one in Arkansas this weekend.

There must be a web site out there, or maybe a church publication. I even imagine they include lessons, maybe even entire sermons. Kind of takes the blessing out of Sunday, knowing that the pastor just cuts and pastes his or her sermons. But I'm certain not all of them do. Does yours?

So anyway, there I was driving in Arkansas, and I saw a marquee that said: "The happiest people are too busy to know it." Pardon me, but what the hell does that mean? I mean, what is the point of being happy if you don't know it? Logically then, if you do know it, does it mean that you really aren't happy? Or does it mean that you're just happy, but not the happiest? Does it mean if I'm in a slave galley rowing a boat 20 hours a day that I really am happy because I don't know it? I would love to hear the sermon that goes with that one.

What About Ted?

2006-09-16T14:17:00.000-05:00

Ned Nuggent, that is. You know, the '70s rocker, avid hunter, and all-around biggot and unapologetic racist. And if you didn't know, Ted is so anti-immigrant that he wants to pretty much send all of them back, whomever them might be. After all, America is made for us Americans. Yada Yada Yada.

Getting to the point... Ted would be easy to ignore. After all, "Cat Scratch Fever" is a stupid song, at best (admit it) and other songs of his, like "Great White Buffalo," are just pathetic. All told, Ted has maybe, maybe one song worth listening to. But that one song. Woof! "Stranglehold" is one of the greatest songs ever.

Can I still like "Stranglehold" and not like Ted Nuggent?

It's 4:20...Time to Play Halo

2006-09-15T10:29:00.000-05:00

No kidding. The other day my son was playing Halo 2 and I happened to be in the room watching (it really can be a lot of fun to watch, especially if you're in the right frame of mind, but I digress). So anyway, his character walked by a wall and I happened to notice something (don't ask me how), so I had him go back and magnify the wall. The entire wall was weed. (Italics added for emphasis) In fact, every where you look in the game is weed. If you don't magnify it, it looks like moss, or just shading. But up close... Wow. It makes my eyes red just thinking about it. Who says those games aren't educational?

Arrrr!!

2006-09-14T11:59:00.000-05:00

Talk Like a Pirate day is this coming up Tuesday. There's a great web site: www.talklikeapirate.com , or something like that. I intend to strap on me cutlass and swill the grog with me laddies, and maybe board a wench or two. Arrrr!

For those of you unfamiliar on how to talk like a pirate, I give you the following (which was liberally stolen from the above web site):

Pirate Lingo

Anybody can talk like a pirate. After all, education was optional in those seafarin’ days of yore. Listed below are several common pirate terms. All you have to do is combine them in new and exciting ways. Be creative. For instance: “Arrr! Me beauty. That bilge rat has poured me grog down me bung hole. Now the lubber will taste the steel of me cutlass!”

Arrr! -- The 18th letter in the alphabet. It means just about anything you want it to mean. Some articulate pirates can exist on just this one word alone. Emphasis is everything.

Arrrghhh! -- A lot like Arrr!, only more negative. Such as, “Arrrghhh! Ye spilled me grog, ye scurvy dog ye! Prepare to taste the steel of me cutlass!”

Beauty -- A saucy wench. As in “Me beauty, bring me the grog!”

Bilge Rat -- The bilge is the lowest level of the ship. it is loaded with ballast and slimy, reeking water. A bilge rat, then, is a rat that lives in the worst place on the ship. Quite an insult.

Grog -- An alcoholic drink, usually rum diluted with water, but could be sued to refer to any alcoholic beverage other than beer.

Hearties -- As in “Me hearties” Friends.

Hornpipe -- A single-reeded musical instrument often used to make announcements aboard ships. As in "Arrrr! Me bonnie lass. Care to give me hornpipe a blow?

Lubber -- (or land lubber) A lover of land. Quite an insult.

Bung -- Where victuals (pirate talk for food) were stored on a ship. A bung hole, then, was how those victuals were taken out of the bung. No kiddin'.

Brass Monkey -- An indented piece of metal designed as a base on which to stack cannonballs, much like a large muffin pan. Brass will contract when it gets cold. If it contracts enough, the cannonballs will fall off. So, therefore, it really can get cold enough to freeze the balls off of a brass monkey. No kiddin'. Ain't talkin' like a pirate great?

Ahoy! -- Hello. As in “Ahoy! Is that a chocolate chip cookie?”

Avast! -- Stop and give attention. Some what like: “Dude! Check that out!”

Cutlass -- A popular car from the ‘70s. Also a nasty broad-bladed sword.

Corvette -- Another popular car, or a fast sailing ship. Depends on whether you capitalize it or not.

Aye! -- Yes!

Scurvy -- As in “Me Scurvy Mate!” Scurvy is an illness caused from lack of vitamin C. Which, incidentally, is why British sailors were called “Limeys.” They took limes with them on voyages for vitamin C. Limes are superior to other citrus fruits, since they tend to dry out better and are thus more suitable for loner voyages.

Ye -- You, your (not to be confused with yore).

Me -- I, my, mine, and even, on occasion, me.

Be -- Any “to be” verb conjugation. (I be, you be, he be, they be, we be). Past tense: be-ed.

Overhead -- The ceiling.

Bulkhead -- The wall.

Head -- The toilet. As in, “Arrrr! Where be the head?”

Shanghai -- As in: “I was Shanghaied off the Barbary Coast, ye scurvy dog, ye!” Sailors were often “recruited” in local pubs. They were either drugged, gotten drunk, or simply hit on the head. When they woke up, they were out to sea. Kind of hard to quit.

Cat-o-nine tails -- A whip that had nine straps coming off the handle. Several lashes with the cat-o-nine tails could seriously ruin your afternoon. Such punishments were often necessary, especially among those sailors who were Shanghaied.

Keel haul -- Another popular punishment. A bit more serious than ten lashes with the cat-o-nine tails. The keel is the bottom of the boat that is in the water. When you were keel hauled, a rope was sent under the ship and tied to you, and then your mates would pull you around the ship. You better hope you can hold your breath for a long time, and that your mates could pull quickly, or that they really were your mates. This was quite often fatal.

Plank -- As in “Walk the plank ye lubber!” Davie Jones be waitin’ for ye!” A bit less restrictive than being keel hauled, except, of course, for the fact that no one intended to bring you back, ever.

Yard Arm -- As in “Hang ‘em from the Yard Arm!” Part of a ship’s rigging -- that stuff the sails are hung on, and technically the sails, too, and often a mate... or two.

Davie Jones -- John Paul’s younger brother. The one who dropped out of school.

Bonnie Lass -- A good looking woman. As in “That be one fine bonnie lass.”

Wench -- a series of pullies designed to haul heavy weighs, such as obese women. Also the women.

Swab -- to mop. As in “A swab the deck me matey!”

Swabby -- one who swabs the deck, which was just about everybody on a ship except the captain.

Matey -- your buddy. As in “Aye, me matey! Leave me bung hole be!”

Mast -- The big pole that sticks up on the ship. The main mast was the biggest pole.

Port -- Where the ship’s heading, or where it came from. Also, the left side on a ship.

Starboard -- The right side on a ship.

Starbuck -- Captain Ahab’s coffee-guzzling first mate. No kidding. Captain Ahab, of course, was the captain of the Pequod. Remember? Moby Dick? The Great White Whale? There’s some light summer reading.

Belay -- Cancel. As in “Belay that order, ye lubber ye!”

Deck -- What you play cards with, or the floor. As in “Swab the deck, ye swabby!”

Mess -- Food. As in “I be takin’ me mess in me quarters.”

Shiver me Timbers! -- a statement of shock and alarm. As in “Shiver me Timbers if it be Davie Jones himself, come to claim the soul of this salty dog!”

Booty -- Treasure. Apparently it was popular for pirates to shake their treasure, though historians haven’t been able to figure out why.

Smart -- Seamanly. As in “Look smartly, now, or we might mistake ye for a lubber!” Never forget that on Talk Like a Pirate Day the Saucy Wenches all expect to see some seamen.

Salt -- A sailor. As in “Ye ol’ salt! May the devil take ye!”

Well blow me down! -- Literally: "Gosh golly! Well I’ll be darned!" Also, the second best pick-up line on Talk Like a Pirate Day. (Number one? Prepare to be boarded!)

Chum -- I’m not really sure about this one, but I don’t want to eat it. I think it’s bait fish. What others might call Sushi.

Other words to throw in at random: Porthole, arrrr, lagoon, arrrr, harbor, arrrr, barnacles, arrrr, rudder, arrrr, cannon, arrrr, anchor, arrrr, urchins, arrrr, treasure chest, and, of course, Arrrr!

Remember: As long as you say it with an accent and throw in an Arrrr! or two, ye be talkin’ like a pirate, ye be! Arrrr!

The Other Way

2006-09-14T11:57:00.000-05:00

It's important
to know what you look like from behind.
Every angle,
every nuance,
every curve,
every twitch.
That way
if you ever see yourself,
you can quickly turn around
and go the other way.

Brought to You By....

2006-09-14T11:53:00.000-05:00

I was listening to a local radio station the other day... And is it just me, or is it really in good taste to have Brown Derby sponser traffic watch?

I Love America

2006-08-31T13:04:00.000-05:00

(Don’t cha know)

Don’t you know I love America?
I love the USA.
You know I love America;
it’s what my bumper stickers say.

I’ve got a flag on my antennae,
I’ve got magnets on my trunk.
I can’t see out my windows
there so covered with this junk.

You can tell a brother patriot,
from near or from afar.
Is that one big bumper sticker?
No, wait, it’s a car.

There are terrorists among us;
they are easily seen.
They’re the ones in the Chevys
whose back windows are clean.

Don’t cha let ‘em into traffic
Go ahead and flip ‘em off
run off of the roadway
show ‘em we’ve taken enough

Fire bomb their apartments
run over all their pets
Drag them from the cars
Hey! We’re not through with you yet!

Kick ‘em! Bite ‘em! Beat ‘em!
Stomp upon their head!
If you’re not one of us
then you’re better off dead!

These are the rights that we fought for
well... maybe... not really me -- but somebody did
And that’s what makes America free
And we shouldn’t think twice about killing
all those who disagree

Don’t you know I love America?
I love the USA.
You know I love America;
it’s what my bumper stickers say.

Planet Hollywood

2006-08-29T12:08:00.000-05:00

Now that Pluto's no longer a planet, I guess I'll have to change my vacation plans. I mean, really, I don't understand what everybody's so upset about. Me? I'm glad these smart guys have figured it out. But now that they've got Pluto, they need to move on... to Goofy.

I mean, what the hell is Goofy? Pluto's a dog. He acts like a dog. If Goofy's a dog, too... I mean, how weird is that? How come Goofy gets to speak and Pluto doesn't? And if he's a dog, what's he doing dating a cow? I mean, that's just warped. That's even weirder than that thing between Miss Piggy and Kermit. I seriously doubt that Goofy's a cow. If he is, where are his horns? Unless, of couse, he's not a bull.... Not that there's anything wrong with that, but aren't Bert and Ernie enough to have to explain to your kids?

Why does there have to be all this controversy? Why can't they all just stay in their vans and get stoned, like Shaggy and Scooby?

And while where on that subject, What Would Scooby Doo?

Nuke Canada Now!

2006-08-24T12:51:00.000-05:00

So I was at the Post Office yesterday mailing a package to my son in Argentina, and I found out that it's against the law to mail butter to Canada. Let's not even worry about the Why. I'm going straight to the How. OK, maybe worry a little about the Why. Why would you want to? Oh, never mind... on to the How.

How would you mail butter anywhere, much less Canada? And what does Canada have against our butter? Could you mail margerine? How about if you were Canadian? Could you mail butter from Canada to the United States? I would certainly hope not! After all, if they're too good to take our butter, I say the hell with Canada!

We need to put a stop to this nonsense right now! Don't want our butter, huh? Well how about some cruise missiles up their ass? You know, over the years we've put up with a lot of crap from Canada. When a cold front comes in, where does it come from? Yup, Canada! Ever step in goose crap? Yup, Canada Gooses. We're the United States! We don't take crap off anybody, especially a bunch of sissy Canadians! And especially not their geese! Nuke 'em, I say.

KC Out of It

2006-08-22T09:43:00.000-05:00

Kansas City's hopes for a pennant faded last night. Even though the resurgent Royal's had the night off, Detroit was victorious over the White Sox, thereby eliminating KC. Oh well, there'll be next decade.

What's So Wrong With Fascism?

2006-08-21T20:58:00.000-05:00

It was just last week that President Bush, in response to the failed attempt to blow up all the British airliners, called those people who were planning it "Islamic Fascists." My first thought was: What the hell is an Islamic Fascist? After a week, it still is.

I know what Islamic is. It's a beautiful religion that a few fundamental kooks have given a horrible name to. Much like Christianity. However, I was a bit foggy on Facism. After all, it had to be Fascism that Bush had the problem with, right? Because he would never come out publicly and say that being Islamic was the problem. Right?

Not wanting to think too hard about it myself, I let the Internet do the walking, and I came up with “Fourteen Defining Characteristics of Fascism” by somebody named Dr. Lawrence Britt. He must know what he’s talking about because he is a Doctor. You can find it at www.rense.com .

The good doctor “has examined the fascist regimes of Hitler (Germany), Mussolini (Italy), Franco (Spain), Suharto (Indonesia) and several Latin American regimes. Britt found 14 defining characteristics common to each….”

And those are:

1. Powerful and Continuing Nationalism - Fascist regimes tend to make constant use of patriotic mottos, slogans, symbols, songs, and other paraphernalia. Flags are seen everywhere, as are flag symbols on clothing and in public displays.

Yup. Sounds like...wait. It sounds like... Ok... We'll get back on this one.

2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights - Because of fear of enemies and the need for security, the people in fascist regimes are persuaded that human rights can be ignored in certain cases because of "need." The people tend to look the other way or even approve of torture, summary executions, assassinations, long incarcerations of prisoners, etc.

Nope. I don't of anywhere like that, except maybe for some Communist nations. Like Cuba.

3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause - The people are rallied into a unifying patriotic frenzy over the need to eliminate a perceived common threat or foe: racial , ethnic or religious minorities; liberals; communists; socialists, terrorists, etc.

OK. I'm going to stop with the running comments.

4. Supremacy of the Military - Even when there are widespread domestic problems, the military is given a disproportionate amount of government funding, and the domestic agenda is neglected. Soldiers and military service are glamorized.

5. Rampant Sexism - The governments of fascist nations tend to be almost exclusively male-dominated. Under fascist regimes, traditional gender roles are made more rigid.

Divorce, abortion and homosexuality are suppressed and the state is represented as the ultimate guardian of the family institution.

6. Controlled Mass Media - Sometimes to media is directly controlled by the government, but in other cases, the media is indirectly controlled by government regulation, or sympathetic media spokespeople and executives. Censorship, especially in war time, is very common.

7. Obsession with National Security - Fear is used as a motivational tool by the government over the masses.

8. Religion and Government are Intertwined - Governments in fascist nations tend to use the most common religion in the nation as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Religious rhetoric and terminology is common from government leaders, even when the major tenets of the religion are diametrically opposed to the government's policies or actions.

9. Corporate Power is Protected - The industrial and business aristocracy of a fascist nation often are the ones who put the government leaders into power, creating a mutually beneficial business/government relationship and power elite.

10. Labor Power is Suppressed - Because the organizing power of labor is the only real threat to a fascist government, labor unions are either eliminated entirely, or are severely suppressed.

11. Disdain for Intellectuals and the Arts - Fascist nations tend to promote and tolerate open hostility to higher education, and academia. It is not uncommon for professors and other academics to be censored or even arrested. Free expression in the arts and letters is openly attacked.

12. Obsession with Crime and Punishment - Under fascist regimes, the police are given almost limitless power to enforce laws. The people are often willing to overlook police abuses and even forego civil liberties in the name of patriotism. There is often a national police force with virtually unlimited power in fascist nations.

13. Rampant Cronyism and Corruption - Fascist regimes almost always are governed by groups of friends and associates who appoint each other to government positions and use governmental power and authority to protect their friends from accountability. It is not uncommon in fascist regimes for national resources and even treasures to be appropriated or even outright stolen by government leaders.

14. Fraudulent Elections - Sometimes elections in fascist nations are a complete sham. Other times elections are manipulated by smear campaigns against or even assassination of opposition candidates, use of legislation to control voting numbers or political district boundaries, and manipulation of the media. Fascist nations also typically use their judiciaries to manipulate or control elections.

Wow. How about 14 out of 14 for the Bush Administration? So, if Bush says that it's wrong to be an Islamic Fascist, obviously he's upset because the Muslims are giving fascism a bad name.

Bush Improves in Polls!

2006-08-21T10:03:00.000-05:00

No. Really.

You see, Bush was elected with barely 50% of the vote, right? And less than 50% of the population that could vote actually bothered to vote. Follow along. It's math, but it makes sense. That means that maybe...maybe...25% of the voting public actually wanted Bush to begin with. So, if his approval rating is now at 30%, give or take, he's actually gone up in the polls. I don't know about you, but I call that a mandate.

KC Hangs On

2006-08-21T09:57:00.000-05:00

Detroit kept Kansas City's playoff hopes alive yesterday by losing. As it stands, if Kansas City wins every game for the rest of the year, and Detroit loses every game for the rest of the year, then they will end in a dead tie. Of course, a playoff game wouldn't be necessary, because even if Kansas City wins every game and Detroit loses every game, KC will still end up out of the playoff race, mostly because for Detroit to lose every game, it means that Chicago would have to win every game they play against Detroit, but Chicaco would have to lose, too....

OK. Here's the scenario. The White Sox are flying in an airplane that collides with an airplane carrying the Minnesota Twins, and both planes crash onto the field where Cleveland and Detroit are playing.

It's a long shot, but if you're a KC fan, what other hope is there?

Finding Religion

2006-08-19T11:42:00.000-05:00

I've decided, finally, on a religion. Most people take religion very seriously, and rightly so. After all, it could be the difference between Heaven and Hell...or Purgatory...or the Bardo...or Toorookal...or nothingness...or your choice here: _________ .

To me, however, it's a lot like shoe shopping. You want to find one that fits, one you're comfortable with. One that people won't laugh it. One that will hold up in all kinds of weather. Unlike shoes, however, it's not like you can have several pairs to choose from, depending on the weather, the season, and your mood. Or maybe not....

To make a long blog short, I've decided to be Catholic. It was a process of elimination.

I really like the Eastern religions. Buddhism, Taoism, Confucism, Hinduism, and any other ism I may have left out. However, they require a lot of meditation, and quite often a funky hair cut. And if you go with Hinduism, there is just a guano-load of deities to remember. Quite frankly, that's a lot of work. And besides, they all believe in reincarnation. Even if I'm wrong and they're right, I get to come back and try again, which is more than I get out of the Western religions.

I briefly considered Zoroastrianism. They worship fire, which would go perfectly with barbecuing. And it would be great to say you believe in Ahura Mazda when the Jehovah Witnesses knock on your door. But like Hinduism, there's just a whole lot to learn, and it's a lot of work. I want an easy religion. I want the religion that requires the minimal amount of effort to get me to Heaven. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

There is a lot I like about Islam. Mainly, the virgins when I get to Heaven. Although, I can't help but wonder what they might have done wrong to be condemned to having sex with me for all eternity. Though I'm sure if I were in Heaven, part of the deal is that I wouldn't worry about it. In the end, Islam was just a lot of work. I mean, praying five times a day is a bit much. That's not to say that it wouldn't be a good idea, but I have a hard time coming up with one good prayer a day, much less five.

Judaism. Where do I begin? I like the hat. I mean, who doesn't? But there's just a whole lot of history there. And I'm not sure I could ever learn to say, "Oy!" with a whole lot of conviction.

So that led me to Christianity. Quite frankly, all of your protestant religions are all pretty much the same. You got that forgiveness thing going on, which means you can still do whatever it is that you want and get forgiven for it, unless, of course, a safe drops on you out of the blue. That could create some problems. And all of their weddings are really lame. There's no polka band. There's no meal. There's no open bar. Just an overly frosted cake and those chewy mints that get stuck in your teeth. And then, most protestant religions require more effort than I really want to put forth. All day Sunday's one thing, but then they throw in Wednesday night, too. And they're always having revivals. And Bible study. And choir practice. And Lord knows what. When would you ever find time to drink?

Which led me to the Catholics. They drink. That's good. They have great weddings. That's good. Mass is a thing to get around. I mean, if you go to church on Saturday night, then you don't have to go on Sunday. So much the better if you go to a Saturday night wedding that has a full mass with it. There's no Wednesday night service. They like to dance. Sex is a good thing. In fact, you're encouraged to hump like bunnies. But only if you agree to raise your little bunnies to be good Catholic rabbits. Which isn't too hard.

But the thing that sold me on Catholicism was Purgatory. What a great idea. My goal is to do the bare minimum. All I need to do is make the final cut for Purgatory. It's kind of like passing high school with a 69.5% average, and they round up. After all, does it really matter if I'm in Purgatory for one day or a million years? Once I get out, I'm in Heaven. And then I'm in Heaven for Ever. For all eternity. After all, there's no such thing as half of eternity, now, is there?

And finally, if it weren't for Catholics, would we ever have cool movies like The Exorcist?

So pass the beads and wine,
C'mon Father, let's all have a good time.
And if I look up Sister Margaret's dress,
that's one more sin I get to confess.
What's one more Hail Mary, give or take,
to save me from the fiery lake?
Everything they say about Catholic girls is true,
But you can be a Catholic too.
All we need are beads and wine.
C'mon everybody, we're having a good time!

Wow. Did I just hear some thunder?

Ecclesiastes 12:12

2006-08-08T09:19:00.000-05:00

Why do people always quote Bible verses to prove the Bible?

Strip Malls

2006-08-08T09:08:00.000-05:00

One of the last bastillions of non-normalcy (only an English teacher could get away with a phrase like that) is going the way of the dusky sea-side sparrow (they're extinct too, ya know). I'm talking about strip malls. Here on the south side, at the corner, more or less, of Republic and National, they're putting up a conforming facade on the strip mall.

You know, it's the strip mall that used to have that place that stripped furniture? Making it truly a strip mall. And while we're on the subject, are there any strip malls in Springfield where people actually strip?

Now that I'm off the subject, why do we need so many strip malls in Springfield? They're even changing the front of the Battlefield Mall to look like a strip mall. It's gotta stop. If for no other reason than it proves that things change. Who needs change?

So here's my plan. Stop shopping at strip malls. In fact, stop shopping altogether. That will show these capitalist pigs who's in charge. Eventually, our dead and bloated bodies will so fester with disease that no one will be safe. The fat bastards can hide in their gated communities, but the Masque of Red Death will find them.

Then we'll win!

Priorities

2006-08-06T11:28:00.000-05:00

The chairs on my front porch
aren't sat in.
They're there to give that look of leisure,
that we have time to kill,
cool evenings sipping complex drinks
that are only possible
with a painstaking search
for just the right ingredients.
An acquired taste, I'm sure.
There we could sit
while the rest of the work
gets magically done.
All those never ending chores.
The shopping,
the cleaning,
the sweeping of leaves
off of the front porch.