Saturday, February 26, 2005

Oh, and two links.

One is an illustration of the slow merging of the war machine and christianity.

The other is the only movie I absolutely have to see.


I want to apologize for the previous post.

Not because of the content, but because it was immature to bring it public.

So, in penance, I give you Joe's Day in Liberal Land.

Joe gets up at 6 a.m. and fills his coffeepot with water to prepare his morning coffee. The water is clean and good because some tree-hugging liberal fought for minimum water-quality standards.

With his first swallow of coffee, he takes his daily medication. His medications are safe to take because some stupid Commie liberal fought to insure their safety and that they work as advertised.

All but $10 of his medications are paid for by his employer's medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance - now Joe gets it too.

He prepares his morning breakfast, bacon and eggs. Joe's bacon is safe to eat because some girly-man liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat packing industry.

In the morning shower, Joe reaches for his shampoo. His bottle is properly labeled with each ingredient and its amount in the total contents because some crybaby liberal fought for his right to know what he was putting on his body and how much it contained.

Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some environmentalist wacko liberal fought for laws to stop industries from polluting our air.

He walks to the subway station for his government-subsidized ride to work. It saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees because some fancy-pants liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.

Joe begins his workday. He has a good job with excellent pay, medical benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some lazy liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Joe's employer pays these standards because Joe's employer doesn't want his employees to call the union.

If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed, he'll get a worker compensation or unemployment checks because some stupid liberal didn't think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.

Its noontime and Joe needs to make a bank deposit so he can pay some bills. Joe's deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some godless liberal wanted to protect Joe's money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the Great Depression.

Joe has to pay his Fannie Mae-underwritten mortgage and his below-market federal student loan because some elitist liberal decided that Joe and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over his lifetime.

Joe is home from work. He plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive. His car is among the safest in the world because some America-hating liberal fought for car safety standards. He arrives at his boyhood home. His was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers' Home Administration because bankers didn't want to make rural loans. The house didn't have electricity until some big-government liberal stuck his nose where it didn't belong and demanded rural electrification.

He is happy to see his father, who is now retired. His father lives on Social Security and a union pension because some wine-drinking, cheese-eating liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldn't have to.

Joe gets back in his car for the ride home, and turns on a radio talk show. The radio host keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. He doesn't mention that the beloved Republicans have fought against every protection and benefit Joe enjoys throughout his day.

Joe agrees: "We don't need those big-government liberals ruining our lives! After all, I'm a self-made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have."

Friday, February 25, 2005

So, a word to potential "employers" out there...

If you call me a "hypocritical sexist backstabbing cunt" for daring to maintain a friendship with your ex (after you refused to get a job rather than not "following your dreams"), then offer me a job, then continue to insult me, odds are, bucko, I'm not going to do business with you.

I didn't pick sides. I maintained a friendship with your ex because after a while, hearing the same sob story about how you were being "abused" gets repititious, and I doubt even you could have such consistent bad luck. After a while, people get wise. I only "picked sides" after you verbally abused me - how ironic is THAT?

Oh, and telling me how my marriage is is laughable, considering that you tried to insinuate yourself into it and got rebuffed - by the way, Matthew didn't want you once he laughed himself sick at your presumption that I would want to have sex with you.

You're a leech, plain and simple, and you made that clear when you refused to go back on disability despite the fact that you would be here, eating our food and using our utilities and, get this - using our car to get a "job" - yeah, that's likely.

Yeah - you're the real marriage expert, you certainly helped your mother's, didn't you? Oh, wait.

Good luck writing your "children's book" - it's about the level you function at, I'm sure you'll have no trouble.

I wouldn't work for you. Your email address is blocked; any further emails will be reported to your ISP for harrassment. I don't play the "saving face" game with little manwhores, and I'm certainly not going to play it with you.

I don't work for WalMart, I don't work for Disney, and I sure as fuck wouldn't work for you, because with you behind it, any "project" I would work on would be doomed to a slow oblivion.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Just what you didn't need to hear.

Hunter Thompson, Counterculture Writer, Dies at 67, AP Says

Feb. 20 (Bloomberg) -- Hunter S. Thompson, the counterculture author of ``Hell's Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga'' and ``Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,'' has committed suicide, the Associated Press reported. He was 67.

Thompson shot himself Sunday night at his Aspen, Colorado, home, AP reported. In a statement to the Aspen Daily News, his son Juan Thompson asked that the author's friends and admirers respect the privacy of his family, AP said.

Thompson achieved fame in the 1960s when he wrote for Rolling Stone and invented a subjective and impressionistic style of reporting dubbed ``gonzo'' journalism. His 1972 work ``Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'' was made into a movie with Johnny Depp playing the role of the author.

Recently, Thompson was a columnist for Walt Disney Co.'s In a February 2003 interview with Salon, Thompson said that America suffered a nervous breakdown after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks that has resulted in disastrous restrictions of civil liberties.

Thursday, February 17, 2005


Okay, so this has got to be the most fascinatingly-well done movie I've seen in a while. It's also the most mind-warping. Nothing feels quite realistic now.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

New essay up on

Bubba's Moral Values

Have fun. And if you think torture's a good idea, please choke on a can full of fresh pig shit. Thank you.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005


Tues Feb 8 2005 9:27:01 ET

Last Friday when promoting social security reform with 'regular' citizens in Omaha, Nebraska, President Bush walked into an awkward unscripted moment in which he stated that carrying three jobs at a time is 'uniquely American.'

While talking with audience participants, the president met Mary Mornin, a woman in her late fifties who told the president she was a divorced mother of three, including a 'mentally challenged' son.

The President comforted Mornin on the security of social security stating that 'the promises made will be kept by the government.'

But without prompting Mornin began to elaborate on her life circumstances.

Begin transcript:

MS. MORNIN: That's good, because I work three jobs and I feel like I contribute.

THE PRESIDENT: You work three jobs?

MS. MORNIN: Three jobs, yes.

THE PRESIDENT: Uniquely American, isn't it? I mean, that is fantastic that you're doing that. (Applause.) Get any sleep? (Laughter.)

Monday, February 07, 2005

The US: So very worried about human rights, yes?

How I entered the hellish world of Guantanamo Bay

"The seemingly interminable questioning had already lasted for hours. 'I needed the toilet,' Mubanga said, 'and I asked the interrogator to let me go. But he just said, "you'll go when I say so". I told him he had five minutes to get me to the toilet or I was going to go on the floor. He left the room. Finally, I squirmed across the floor and did it in the corner, trying to minimise the mess. I suppose he was watching through a one-way mirror or the CCTV camera. He comes back with a mop and dips it in the pool of urine. Then he starts covering me with my own waste, like he's using a big paintbrush, working methodically, beginning with my feet and ankles and working his way up my legs. All the while he's racially abusing me, cussing me: "Oh, the poor little negro, the poor little nigger." He seemed to think it was funny.'"