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Archive for January 26th, 2009

(Originally posted Tuesday, October 23, 2007)

Hey kids, have you ever wanted to be a conspiracy theorist but did not think you were cool enough? Well here are some of the things you’ll need to get started on a life of questioning authority in our amazing new Conspiracy Theorist Home Starter Kit.

What you’ll need to get started is:

10. A fawning quality in which you are dazzled by mathematical equations you can’t disprove, ignoring the fact that it’s usually much simpler math that describes daily reality. “Oh, the angle of bullet entry! Ugh! I can’t argue with that. You win, conspiracy man!” You will be particularly susceptible to nonsense phrases such as “Objects do not fall into the path of most resistance at anything close to freefall speed.”

9. An ability to question things you see with your own eyes. “Well, I’m almost positive I drove to work on the San Diego Freeway. But who am I to say that there is such a thing as a San Diego Freeway? Isn’t that kind of arrogant of me?” You must also be dumb enough to confuse this sort of doubt with critical thinking, when it is actually better known as either nihilism or by an even better name you can find in the DSM IV manual: paranoid schizophrenia.

8. A worldview in which everybody acts like a pre-programmed automaton and runs around Energizer Bunny-like following orders. “Well, I can’t argue that George Bush is a rich man, and so it’s likely everything he does is dictated by a hard-wired drive to accrue more money to himself at all times, (when he’s not eating, I guess), especially by deploying troops (also acting without any kind of anima or soul) to accumulate vast large quantities of oil for himself. Yes, I guess I can’t argue with that kind of reasoning.”

7. An ability to pick the most complicated answer to any question. “Well, I came home and found garbage all over my floor, so obviously several teams of NSA people came in here searching through my stuff but managed to do it without leaving fingerprints on the window or crowbar indents on my door, so it’s likely they made a similar break-in to my superintendent’s house to get his key, and obviously they muffled my dog and somehow managed to leave his paw prints all around the garbage can so I wouldn’t think it is what it really is.”

6. A tendency to see every action by people in power only for how it affects you personally without seeing it in the context of many other players on the stage of life. “Obviously Alan Greenspan raised interest rates to ruin our economy and discredit Bill Clinton, who I voted for.” Or “Obviously Greenspan is doing it because he belongs to an institution covered in ancient Illuminati symbols that is trying to control our every move, specifically by ruining my small-cap stock portfolio.”

5. A willfully ignorant and almost religious faith that somebody in power could control a series of events from start to finish, such as the demolition of a building and all the directions the debris flies in. “Did you notice that when they demolished the Sands in Atlantic City, it fell over to its side? I’m almost willing to bet an invisible plane crashed into it.”

5. a. … even though God himself, were he ever to have existed, would have done a pretty piss-poor job of controlling things start to finish, since he created men who don’t even believe in Him anymore.

5. b. … and especially when that belief requires the collusion of a horribly slow-moving bureaucracy. Take this timeline of events here here: “A judge in Washington okayed a mandate to get a warrant from several law enforcement agencies who had the orders signed by their officers in triplicate and then it went back to the judge who said it must be then shared with members of a special committee of the Congress chaired by 100-year-old Senator Strom Thurmond who first wanted to analyze the need for such a mandate, and who collaborated with others before signing off on the order, and after that it went back to the judge and he approved the order, and then it went back to the law enforcement officials who had to get the money for the project approved by the Congressional Budget Office and the General Accounting Office, and then they had to go buy the materials for the project by taking out a government bid to get the concession, and after they finally got the materials, they had to wait for the right kind of hurricane to hit the city of New Orleans, and that’s when they moved in with Navy Seals to the disaster zone and planted the explosives that would break the levees and kill all the black people.”

4. A suspicion that any two people who ever belonged to the same club that would not have you as a member are now doing the work of that club to cause you bodily grievous harm. “I believe that since Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan both had bank accounts at Chase Manhattan, then it must be Chase that is responsible for the 1898 Spanish-American War.”

3. An inability to recognize that even though facts are messy, truth is not. “I just can’t believe that compressed air would shoot out the sides of the World Trade Center during collapse, so I’ve decided to not believe that two huge planes slammed into the buildings at all even though they were captured on videotape doing so in front of tens of thousands of witnesses after being hijacked by people who have confessed and who had attacked us before anyway and who had manifestly stated political motives for doing so.”

2. A childlike ability to ascribe hateful acts only to the people you hate. “Well, there were no fingerprints on the gun Kurt killed himself with, so I’d bet on my life that Courtney Love did it, because, even though he was suicidal, Courtney’s such a horrible bitch, isn’t she?”

1. And finally, and more importantly, to be a great conspiracy theorist, sooner or later, you’re going to have to learn to hate the Jews. “Well, you know they did kill Jesus, and they always do get what they want, likely because they have always turned the wheels of history. They do always seem to be hiding in the wings somewhere when this shit goes down.”

So enjoy the kit, kids. And don’t blow yourself up.

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(Originally posted Tuesday, October 23, 2007)

New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg took the stage the other day at a press conference to make an important announcement. Here is a television transcript of what happened after he took the dais.

MICHAEL BLOOMBERG

Thank you ladies and gentlemen. We called you here tonight to let you know that we received word from intelligence agents and law enforcement officials that a terrorist plot against New York was uncovered in Iraq a few weeks ago, and that you were all in grave danger last Tuesday, but not anymore. Now, questions.

A reporter raises his hand.

REPORTER NO. 1

Sir, I don’t understand. What kind of danger were we in?

BLOOMBERG

Grave, horrible danger from a terrorist attack, likely on our subway system, by men using suitcases, baby strollers, and backpacks.

REPORTER NO. 1

But only last Tuesday?

BLOOMBERG

Yes. But not anymore. So, nothing to worry about.

Another reporter raises her hand.

REPORTER NO. 2

Sir, what do you mean, exactly? How should New Yorkers have prepared last Tuesday?

BLOOMBERG

It means that last Tuesday you should have been on the lookout for strange behavior. You might have avoided the subway, avoided carrying any handbags whatsoever. And maybe you should have worn a gas mask. But again, this was just last Tuesday. It’s a different world now.

REPORTER NO. 2

I’m not sure what the point of telling us now is.

BLOOMBERG

Look, New Yorkers are rugged people and know what to do in the case of a crippling attack on the subway that might have involved sarin gas and killer bees. And it’s our job to let you know without causing a panic. You should only know that you should be aware of trouble. The danger is clear, if no longer present.

REPORTER NO. 1

Killer bees?

BLOOMBERG

Yes. Last Tuesday. Killer bees and anthrax.

REPORTER NO. 3

Is there anything else we could have done last Tuesday to prepare?

BLOOMBERG

Yes. You would have been well advised not to leave your house at all. Perhaps you could have stayed home and watched television. You could have purchased an emergency generator in the case of an attack on the city’s power grid. You could have got a license to carry a weapon. Or two.

REPORTER NO. 3

The power grid? Was an attack on the power grid likely?

BLOOMBERG

Oh yeah. You betcha.

REPORTER NO. 2

Should we have let our kids go to school?

BLOOMBERG

No, no, no! That’s the worst possible thing you could have done last Tuesday. Really bad. It could have been catastrophic.

REPORTER NO. 1

Should we have used the city’s bridges to get out?

BLOOMBERG

Oy! My God no.

REPORTER NO. 2

What about the ferries?

BLOOMBERG

You want to be a big shot? You have a taste for living dangerously? Sure, go right ahead and take the ferry.

REPORTER NO. 3

What else could we have done last Tuesday to prepare for this horrible lethal attack?

BLOOMBERG

Well, you could have stocked up on water, food and blankets. But I don’t want to belabor the point. I just want to let you know that we are looking out for you and that the federal government and local authorities are doing everything in their power to keep you safe from attacks like the horrible, horrible one that could have happened last Tuesday if it weren’t caught in time.

REPORTER NO. 1

What should we be doing right now?

BLOOMBERG

Anything you want. Feel free to ride our subways and visit a Broadway show and spend your money at local businesses. But just so long as you know that doing it last Tuesday meant the odds were even something really bad was going to happen to you involving mustard gas, dirty bombs, and mad cow disease.

REPORTER NO. 3

So we should just do nothing?

BLOOMBERG

Do nothing, but do it with great fear and respect for the ineffable forces of God and providence. Police Commissioner Ray Kelly and I will be doing everything possible to keep you alerted in an almost timely fashion about things when they occur, or maybe just after they occur.

REPORTER NO. 3

Could last Tuesday have been another Sept. 11?

BLOOMBERG

People, I don’t want to get into hypotheticals. There was only one Sept. 11, and there won’t be another one until the day there is, and if there is one, you’ll be the first to know about it, if you’re still around. Last Tuesday was not Sept. 11, it just could have been.

REPORTER NO. 2

Mayor Bloomberg, I’m scared.

BLOOMBERG

There’s nothing to be afraid of. Your government is in control of the situation. And if we cannot control the terrorists themselves, we can at least control the wild hysteria. Believe me, you should never be wildly hysterical until I, mayor Mike Bloomberg, tells you it’s time to be wildly hysterical. And you can rest easy that when you are screaming and running to the exits and trampling your own friends and loved ones looking for escape like rats fleeing a sinking ship, you can rest easy that it’s only because the government told you it was okay to be scared. The government knows best when you should feel any mortal or existential dread. That’s just good governance. Now, that is all. Goodnight.

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(Originally posted Tuesday, October 23, 2007)

“Ahab And The White Crab”
A One-Act Play by Herman Melville
Starring Ishmael, Captain Ahab and Queequeg

Scene: Captain Ahab is sitting on the deck of the Pequod at night, watching the sea. Ishmael approaches him.

Ahab
Say, moon calf, why lingerest there? Come hither.

Ishmael

Begging your forgiveness. I did not see you at supper, Captain, and I brought you slapjack and sea bread. Prithee tell me, why do you tarry here?

Ahab
I’m watching the sea for a peaceful respite.

Ishmael
Aye, but sadness is stamped in the troubles of thy brow, Captain.

Ahab
‘Tis true. I’ve kept to myself until now. But I’ve been laid low by a most cursed affliction of the spirit.

Ishmael
Is it this endless sallying and fruitless endeavor to find the white whale?

Ahab

Nay, it is the ticklish white crab that inflicts he who rolls in Venus’ arms.

Ishmael
You say not!

Ahab
Aye, the dreaded one itself.

Ahab scratches his crotch.

Ishmael
What have ye done for it?

Ahab
Not much is that I can do. With a clinched oath and dread in my soul, I have been to see the apothecary and rubbed on the prescribed creams and unguents. But these ablutions brought me no closer to the end of the infernal itching devil’s fury.

Ishmael
I’ve never been so afflicted with such a malady meself. Prithee tell me, how go they?

Ahab
Ah, they are as white as the great sperm whale, and almost as big. The whiteness of the crab mocks, as like a sinister evil to cover up its dark doings.

Ishmael
How?

Ahab
They lay their nits in me and feed on my blood until they grow white and fat on the warmth and larder of my body like nymphs when they become wives.

Ishmael
Sad, truly. You saw some fair dollymop in Boston, perhaps, and it was she gave you the white crab?

Ahab
Or it was I laid too long with the cannibal in my bunk, be it what it would. Yet it is worse now, for now it toys with my mood as well as my flesh. For even when the itching abates, I think of how man’s days are like endless yarn spun from an endless loom until the final day he is hoary, gray and fit for the morgue. And in the meantime of his days: all this wretched, fetid itching. We’re all in a tight scratch with life’s quotidian irritations, which are like the substance of madness.

Ishmael
Did ye try alcohol?

Ahab
How so?

Ishmael
To pour it on directly. Maybe to wrench the tiny white beast from thy close company with rum or whisky.

Ahab (wailing)
Arg, of course I did! I’d nail a doubloon to the mainmast for the man who could help me rid myself of the white crabs.

Ishmael
Avast! Here’s Queequeg. And he’s got a shiv and a bottle of rum, if I see by the way he stumbles.

Queequeg the cannibal comes in with a harpoon.

Queequeg
Some body say there bee a white crab?

Ahab
I did, Queequeg. What of it?

Queequeg
Ah! Queequeg no kill-e big whale tonight. Queequeg kill-ee small white nits.

He approaches Ahab with the harpoon aimed at his genitals.

Ishmael
No! Queequeg, not that way!

Queequeg jumps down on Ahab, pulls down his pants, holds him down and shaves him.

Ishmael
Belay that, savage! Stop! What are ye doing? Are you all right, captain?

Ahab
Wait! He truly knows what it is he does.

Queequeg finishes and gets up.

Queequeg
Is better, no?

Ahab
Yea! I am. Thank-ee Queequeg. You truly are a noble savage.

Ishmael looks down at Ahab’s fallen trou.

Ishmael
The devil, Ahab! Now I’d liken thee by thy dearth of hair to a 10-year-old boy.

Ahab looks down too.

Ahab
So I am. But not to worry. I feel as if it gives me newfound powers and fettle, as if I were like a youthful star-gazer again.

He dances around.

Ahab
That’s a sight better. From now on Queequeg, I am so thankful that I’ll let all generations know what ye have done. I shall call it “The Brazilian Wax.”

Ishmael
You look a stone fool, Ahab. Stay away from me.

Ahab wiggles his newly shaved pubes at Ishmael and chases him offstage, leaving Queequeg alone to ponder.

Queequeg
Queequeg not from Brazil.

THE END

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New Ways To Invest

(Originally posted Monday, October 22, 2007)

Ways To Invest In These Volatile Markets

The recent volatility in stocks has made some people worry about whether we are on the verge of another bear market and stalling economic growth. Where else will Americans be investing their money to take up more defensive positions?

* In CDs that barely keep up with inflation owned by a bank that won’t have the same name in 10 years.

* In old and collectible Spider-Man comics.

* In commodity 10-year futures contracts for sweet, sweet Spanish ham.

* In an Atlantic City Keno machine.

* Into the education of Rico, the son of your Mexican whore Esmeralda.

* Into a new education at DeVry.

* Into the church, because God is the one in whom you place all your material and spiritual trust.

* Into the equity of China, which is going to be the next superpower anyway.

* Into a diamond ring that has absolutely, positively no resale value and depreciates like a car the moment you sweep her back down the aisle.

* Into a plasma TV as big as a giraffe, because that’s the way you roll.

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House Cleaning

(Originally posted Oct. 21, 2007)

Just to let you know, “Electra in Birkenstocks” is back up at ER Salo Deguierre’s page. If you like the song. And the wife is keeping the blog updated at The Retributioners page.

And if you are reading these pages or keeping up with this blog here on any regular basis, I am hypnotizing you now to go up and hit the subscribe button: Subscribe. … subscribe … subscribe… Be a friend to all our pages, and subscribe to anything we ask. Do it! Do it!

I know it’s tempting to hit the Bo Bice link instead. But Bo is not your friend. I am, dammit!

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(Originally posted Sunday, October 21, 2007)

According to new studies, scientists are coming closer to the belief that Neanderthal man, the closest extinct relative of the homo sapiens, might have possessed the same quality of language and spoken with the same level of sophistication as we do. Here are some of the things these cave-dwellers are thought to have said.

* “These berries taste like shit.”

* “I was thinking of going south to the savanna, but it’s just too damn hot down there, and everybody’s a damn foreigner, and why in the hell would I want to be eaten by a tiger? And after all, my brain casing is built for a colder climate. So it looks like it’s back to the steppes for me.”

* “I’m worried about my collection of bones and antlers, because I don’t think the tribal leaders are really telling us the truth about long-term interest rates.”

* “I don’t know if I’m a good mother.”

* “How can I have children when there might be another ice age? It’s just irresponsible.”

* “I’ve got a head for business and a bod for sin. So tell me, what’s wrong with that?”

* “Out out brief candle … Life is a tale told by an idiot. All sound and fury signifying … oh, I don’t know where I’m going with this.”

* “I don’t believe in tipping.”

* “If I want to go hang out with the guys on Friday night, I don’t see why it’s any of your goddamn business.”

* “Life sucks.”

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How We Ended It…

(Originally posted Saturday, October 20, 2007)

Top 10: How Did We End It?

* With an e-mail.

* With a fax.

* With a message taped to the dog we had taught to do tricks, such as delivering break-up messages

* Sky-writing

* … in cursive

* With an eight-page letter that somehow included the entire text of “Ode to a Grecian Urn.”

* Signed in goat’s blood

* With a note pinned at the end of a knife stuck into your heart

* With a singing telegram delivered by a circus clown*

* We had our lawyers do it for us.

*This post originally used a word for little people that’s now widely considered to be offensive.

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(Originally posted Saturday, October 20, 2007)

2 CBS
Another show about a hot babe who talks to your dead grandmother.

4 NBC
Dancing Circles Around A Half-Dead Celebrity

4 NBC
Screw “Friday Night Lights.” Have you ever noticed that you can’t help but choke up when you hear the theme to “Brian’s Song”?

5 ABC
You Work It, Sister! (Two hours of chick shows.)

7 Fox
A new reality show about making it in the independent movie business: “So, You Want To Be The Next Assistant Covered In Harvey Weinstein’s Spit?”

12 A&E
CSI: Mississippi. This week, the team must wait 12 days for a microscope to come in the mail via Fed Ex.

15 Animal Planet
It’s Me Or The Throat-Eating Pit Bull

17 History
Puritans Doin’ It

18 HBO
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Spanish Fly

19 Soap Net
Half the characters of “All My Children” are involved in a horrible car pileup and become mentally retarded, and the other half become autistic. They all spend the year talking in a fat-tongued Neanderthal-speak.

20 E! Entertainment Television
The 10 Biggest Celebrity Genocidal Ooops

21 Logo
The gayest show we could find about the stock and bond markets.

22 Sci-Fi
Something green breaking out of a guy’s stomach while you’re eating dinner.

23 TV Land
It’s Like Reliving An Entire Youth Wasted Watching TV All Over Again

29 Cinemax
Oh! oh! oh! Yes, yes, yes! Oh, oh, oh! Unh, unh, unh!

33 Food Network
Audience cheers as Emeril adds Prozac to a veloute sauce to “make it happy.”

35 VS.
Base jumping with a horse-toothed Danish idiot.

38 HGTV
If These Walls Could Bleed: Redecorating on bad acid.

39 Fox News
Locked In Our Insular World, Speaking Increasingly Weird Ideas To Each Other Like a Cult of Inbreeds

40 Lifetime
Recurring, Unstoppable, Unyielding Reba

50 Disney
Everything you do for the next year as a parent will revolve around “Hannah Montana”

51 CMT
I Want To Get Pregnant Like a High School Cheerleader Again

52 Sundance Channel
Icons: Marilyn Manson and George Wendt

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(Originally posted Thursday, October 18, 2007)

Minutes From The Post-Apocalyptic Desert Community Conference, 2024

Greetings fellow tent dwellers. As president of your post-apocalyptic desert tent city, I welcome you to this year’s 2nd Annual Confab. I’m sure a lot of canned dog food will be eaten and lots of salty stories told. I see that some of the kids in the audience have lost their baby teeth since last year. Let’s hope some adult teeth grow in soon … and by that I mean, grow in ever! Huh? Can I get a laugh? I’m just teasin’ there.

Now, a few of you have sent in some comment cards. I have them written down on sheepskin vellum. Now don’t go asking me where the sheep is. Of course it was eaten a long time ago. And by the looks of Ed over there with his 20 inch waistline, I think I can tell you where it went. Just kidding about that Ed. However, I’ve got to say, some of the comments I saw this year were a little backward-looking. What I might call “Pre-apocalyptic” in their attitude, if you’ll indulge me. For instance, one of you, I won’t say who, keeps insisting that we should be doing crop rotation instead of living as vagabonds and going from place to place sucking all the methane gas out of old landfills for our speedsters. Some of you even say we should be using solar power for the speedsters. Now, I agree with you guys that solar power was a nifty idea back in the day, but let’s be realistic about what it takes to get a Bedouin desert people poppin’ in the morning. And it ain’t the unforgiving sun, amigos. It’s oil and gas. Pure and simple. That’s our lifeblood. You back-to-nature types might consider for a minute that nature’s keeping score with us, and she’s not our friend these days.

Now, also, as you know, the one last fertile female in North America, who I’ll just call Smurfette–just poking a little fun at you there, Barb–has been a little unhappy with the arrangements of having to sleep with all the male members of the tribe, or as she puts it, “Having to whelp a whole new civilization by herself.” Barb, I’m sorry that God gave you humanity’s last pristine eggs and that it was your uterus that was untouched by fallout. But put yourself in my position. I’m trying to keep civil order around here among a lot of sex-starved survivors of nuclear winter. I know it’s a lot to sacrifice to be the mother of a people. But think about the future a little and stop being such a prima donna, Madame Ovary. Morale is low enough.

Okay, now I also see that some of you have gotten a little squeamish about eating the dead. I feel your pain. I myself have eaten more of my former friends than I care to name, and the last time I looked at my driver’s license, my last name wasn’t “Donner.” So I’d ask you to remember that, when it comes to your fine Epicurean experiences, a nuclear holocaust kind of changes the calculus a bit. Just look at the rats running around here. In the old days, they were a nuisance you could chase away. But now they don’t run. They’re suddenly your equals–your competition in a hideous Malthusian game called survival of the fittest. They’re not afraid of you. No, they’re waiting for you to screw the pooch and fall asleep at the wrong time. While you sit out here bitchin’ about eating the dead, Charlie’s in the bush getting stronger. Remember that.

Now some of you have been asking, “Is old Pete going to relinquish control of the tribe this year, end the dictatorship, and reestablish democracy?” C’mon. You know I’m a democratic guy. My father was fairly elected as the mayor of New Haven, Conn., and I might have done that myself, if the city hadn’t been consumed by a vengeful cloud of radioactive bees. True, self-determination in the land of your birth is a value our elders held dear for centuries. But remember, the first order of business is stability. Until we have created the fundamentals of a democratic state–a shared ideology, a self-sustaining industrial base, and a diversified market economy–we’re all going to lick a few boots, starting with mine. So follow for now.

Okay, I saved the hardest question for last: What about the zombies? They’re attacking us with stones and machetes every night and they won’t ever die. Now, I preach love and understanding, but we’re in a holy war for our survival here. That’s why we can’t keep fighting with each other and playing Monday morning quarterback and saying, “You know who started the nuclear Holocaust? It was the Jews!” How do you think that makes Morrie feel? We aren’t Jews or gentiles anymore out here. We’re a hard-charging band of desert bad asses with souped up roadsters, fighting the good fight together. Now what are we going to do to those zombies? Come on now, everybody. What’s our motto? That’s right: “Kill, you rat men. Kill, kill!” Thanks. Have a rockin’ confab and we’ll see you next year.

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(Originally posted Wednesday, October 17, 2007)

Stupid Things We Said In Anger That We Wish We Could Take Back Now….

–“Your chocolate Jesus sculpture was derivative.”

–” That’s just something I’d expect to hear from a woman who didn’t ever go through puberty because of a pituitary deficiency.”

–“I don’t know if your being a hermaphrodite was ever really such a big turn on for me in the first place now that I think about it.”

–“All you were to me was a pair of gams and a sub-prime mortgage.”

–“I wasn’t in love with you; I only loved your Amway Saleswoman of the Year award.”

–“At least I’m not a dyslexic pedophile from Southie.”

–“You’re just a Torah-dropper.”

–“I hate you and your stupid parasitic twin.”

–“You aren’t even qualified to be installing that operating system. … You faggot!”

–“Let’s invade Iraq.”

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