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Archive for February, 2009

In today’s selection of amazingly uncharacteristic photos, Moondoggie is unconscious, and Riley is exasperated.


“I tried to go to bed…but I missed.”


“Yes…?  (SIGH)  Have you been helped…?

Pastor Swank: I Eat Cannibal, It’s Incredible

Posted by scott on February 26th, 2009

This week, things take a dark turn at RenewAmerica, as Pastor Swank acquires a taste for human flesh.

NOTE: Pastor Swank authored MOMENTS TO GO, A STUDY OF THE SECOND COMING, Beacon Hill Press of Kansas City, 1974, the book now out of print. However, a few copies are available via such venues as Amazon books.

It’s hard to believe that J. Grant Swank had a book published in 1974, when he was young and green and had only begun to experiment with the avant garde literary techniques that would later come to define his unique style.  More to the point, it means that the Pastor has been doing what he does to the English language for 35 years, without once being visited on Christmas Eve by the ghosts of Samuel Johnson, Noah Webster, and William Strunk, Jr., who would all presumably beat him to a pulp with ectoplasmic baseball bats.  But then I saw the cover, and if any book ever screamed “1974″…


“Then he (Christ) said to me (John the apostle), ‘Write, Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.’

“And he said to me, ‘These are true words of God.’”

Will you be at the marriage supper of the Lamb? I hope not.

Because you didn’t RSVP, and we’re running out of applesauce and mint jelly.

That is, I hope you will not be eating the marriage supper of the Lamb menu.

The prix fixe is 34.95 and it doesn’t even include the cheese course and coffee!

On the other hand, I do pray that you will be there to see it eaten; but you would not want to partake of the banquet set forth.

Because the Party Platter came from Subway.

Note Revelation 19:17-18: Then I saw an angel standing in the sun, and with a loud voice he called to all the birds that fly in midheaven, “Come, gather for the great supper of God, to eat the flesh of kings, the flesh of captains, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and their riders, and the flesh of all men, both free and slave, both small and great.”

Can I just have a small mixed green salad?  With the balsamic vinaigrette on the side.

Yes, as the Word states, you as a believer will be “blessed” by being “invited to the marriage supper.” The definition of your blessing will be being in the entourage of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He will be victorious over the AntiChrist and False Prophet. You will rejoice in that win.

And, needless to say, there’ll be an open bar.

I recall since a child hearing preachers deliver sermons on the marriage supper of the Lamb. By the close of their messages, I was salivating for that delicious set-forth.

Why doesn’t the Pastor have his own show on the Food Network?   He’s a natural.

Then when I became an adult to do my own biblical study on the topic, I realized that I did want to be the vultures picking the bones of the defeated dead in the Battle of Armageddon. No, thank you.

“But then I realized they were all out of Chex Mix and Vienna Franks, and Defeated Dead was all that was left in the chafing dish.  I knew I should’ve gotten to Armageddon earlier.”

The closest then that I wanted to get to the supper was to see the vultures taking care of the matter quite fully.

CROW T. ROBOT:  “I think you’ll agree, there are few sights in nature more beautiful than a plump member of the Cathartidae family pulling a fetid string of meat off a week-dead Thompson’s gazelle. ”

The accent of the phrase “marriage supper of the Lamb” is not the word “supper,” though we with gastric juices working at high speed might interpret it as the most significant term.

I often misplace diacritical marks when my stomach acid breaks the speed limit.

The word that needs underlining is “marriage” for it is the union of Groom Christ with Bride believers that is most important. After such a rough ride as the tribulation, it will be high time for the Groom and Bride to be together.

We had a little plastic Jesus in a tuxedo and his post-Apocalyptic bride on our wedding cake too.  Really added a splash of elegance.

At the close of the about-seven year tribulation, Christ will leave the right hand of the Father in heaven. He will descend toward this planet with angels and the saved of all time.

But if he descends during rush hour there will likely be a 15 to 20 delay on the Throg’s Neck, so Jesus and the saved for all time will probably want to take an alternate route.

At His return, passing through the clouds, the dead in Christ will be lifted out of their graves. The believers alive on the planet will be whisked into the clouds to change their clothes from mortal to immortal, from corruptible to incorruptible.

Unfortunately, all my immortal clothes make me look hippy.

Christ will first put his holy feet on the Mount of Olives when touching down on Earth. The Mount will split in half from east to west, signifying His power over His creation.

Christ by that time will have won the Battle of Armageddon in the Valley of Megiddo in Israel’s northwest region. He will have spoken a word. The war will have ceased leaving corpses spread across the valley.

The word, by the way, will be:  “Oops.”

Vultures will be clawing at those dead frames as Christ proceeds to the Mount of Olives, angels and believers accompanying Him.

Then Christ will proceed to the Holy City where He will rule for a thousand years — the millennium.

But he’ll fail to update his computer software and when the millennium hits he won’t be able to access his bank statement.

The saved of all time will rule with Him in the two major societal dimensions — religion and politics. They will rule as “priests” and “kings,” per Revelation’s terminology.

Although Revelations’s terminology also includes “spank,” “touch-hole,” and “Bozo,” so you might not want to take it too literally.

For the first seven months into the millennium, Israeli employees will bury the defeated dead bones

It’s a crappy job, granted.  But hey, in this economy, we’re lucky to be working.

…thus cleansing the Holy Land of every sign of the demonic enemy. The Holy Land then will truly become holy so that heaven’s Holy One may reign in righteousness.

How long will it take the vultures to finish off the marriage supper of the Lamb menu? We do not know.

They’ve been sitting there for 30 minutes already and they haven’t touched their fruit cup.

Stimulus Bill Possesses Linda Blair; Pea Soup Ensues

Posted by scott on February 24th, 2009

Remember last week, when the stimulus bill was revealed as the culmination of a decades-long Communist plot involving a Kenyan-born sleeper agent and a bio-engineered “doomsday” virus spread by the salt marsh mouse that caused people to vote Democratic, and ultimately to dine, zombie-like, on the tender flesh of derivatives traders?  Those were good times, weren’t they?  I mean, yes, it meant that as soon as Obama signed the bill, civilization would destroy itself in a single night, like the climax of Azimov’s Nightfall, but at least there’d be no one left behind to envy the dead.

But now I learn a noted theologian has proven that the stimulus bill is actually a blood pact, and with one stroke of the pen, President Obama has legally sold our souls to Satan!  Bet you weren’t expecting that, were you?  Makes a lifetime spent toiling in a heroic tractor factory for the greater good of the proletariat sound pretty good, doesn’t it?

I would like to share with you some words on a subject of great importance. This happens to deal with Satan’s Stimulus Program that has been signed into federal law.

I must remind all Americans that this stimulus program is in violation of God’s Law and Word. It is a sad event that the leaders in Washington who are supposed to work for us, the American people, have made themselves gods above the great God Jehovah by passing such a Satanic stimulus plan. We can thank these leaders for condemning us all to Hell for their actions.

Even innocent babies born since Satan’s Stimulus was signed are condemned to burn in the lake of fire for all eternity, no matter what good works they may accomplish during their lives, so I think when they get older they should really cut loose at Spring Break.  By the way, when I say “noted theologian,” I actually mean “the Rt. Rev. Christopher ‘Stonewall’ Shelton, bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Saint James in Toomsuba, Mississippi.”  And when the Rt. Rev. Stonewall says “bishop,” he apparently means “graduate of Kirk Cameron’s correspondence school seminary, The Way of the Master School of Biblical Evangelism,” and when he says “Diocese,” he means “basement.”  At least, a quick check of public records for Toomsuba, MS reveals no Episcopal church, and the website of the Episcopal Diocese of Mississippi seems to think some other guy is the bishop.  But that’s no reason Stonewall can’t put on a royal purple dicky and get into a lawsuit with Satan over our souls!

The decline of this nation began some forty years ago with the liberal selfish 1960s. The liberal openness of that era set the stage for the devilish “stimulus law” that is discriminatory by promoting hatred and bigotry against Christians. This may sound strange to a lot of Americans. But this is exactly what is happening through this program.

If it hadn’t been for The Beatles, Congress would never have approved that bailout of AIG.

The government will use this stimulus program to take away the rights and freedoms of the Christians in this country. The secular government will come after the Christians, since we are adversaries of the Devil. We may face death through instant or slow rot in the concentration camps the government has set up for us.

I always choose the slow rot, because then the meat just falls off the bone.  Mmm.

As a servant of the Creator on High, I and this diocese will continue to stand firm against Satan’s Stimulus Program.

I too feel the call to service, and herewith vow that I and the papal state that I’ve just decided my office is, shall fight unto our last breath against the efforts of all mythological creatures who seek to promote economic growth through deficit spending, including the seven robber-gods of Babylonia and their Extension of Unemployment Benefits, and Loki, the trickster god, and his evil schemes to increase liquidity in the credit markets!

Pacem et Cristos,


Just as an aside, I think bishops, cardinals, and even popes would get a lot more respect if they adopted tough-sounding nicknames like “Stonewall,” “Ol’ Hickory,” or “Old Blood and Guts.”  Something like Bishop Fulton (“Old Wafers ‘n’ Wine) Sheen, or Pope Benedict (“Benny the Fish”) the 16th.

Bunning Has Only 48 Hours To Solve His Own Murder!

Posted by scott on February 23rd, 2009

This past weekend, Kentucky Senator Jim Bunning informed Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who is fighting pancreatic cancer, that she has just nine months to live.  Undoubtedly the Senator felt he was doing Justice Ginsburg a favor by giving it to her straight, and probably expected her to immediately resign from the Supreme Court and try cramming a lifetime of experience into her few remaining months.  In fact, as he delivered his diagnosis to the Hardin County Republican Party’s Lincoln Day Dinner, it’s likely Senator Bunning paused for one poignant moment to envision the former Supreme Court Justice traveling the world like Ben Gazzara in Run For Your Life, jumping out of planes, driving race cars, and getting involved in the problems of guest stars Suzanne Pleshette, Fernando Lamas, and Mel Tormé.

But there was an unexpected twist to the story, when it turned out that the very same actuarial tables Bunning relied upon to calculate the speed at which sand was pouring through Justice Ginsburg’s hourglass proved that the Senator himself has been dead for over two years!  According to the latest figures, life expectancy for a white male in the U.S. is 75.7.  In Kentucky, it’s 75.2.  Bunning, who was born on October 23, 1931, is 77.4 years old.  Like Edmund O’Brien in the noir classic D.O.A., the Senator is a dead man walking, with only days — perhaps hours — to track down and bring to justice the statistician who killed him.

Post-Friday Beast Blogging: The Feline Olympics Edition

Posted by scott on February 22nd, 2009

Synchronized Napping:


This is the “Ying and Yang” portion of Riley and Moondoggie’s compulsory routine.  The Persian judge gives it a 9.2.

RenewAmerica columnist Selwyn Duke is much like the Elephant Man — his head is so big because it’s full of dreams.  Dreams in which he’s smarter than you; so smart that when he tells you about the ducks and the cupcakes, it will change the way you think about politics and snakes and internal torque wrenches.

Giving Obama a chance

Being a cerebral sort

You can tell he’s cerebral from his headshot…


…still, it’s nice of him to point it out to those of us who might not immediately recognize the “Big Thinker” pose from the Olan Mills stylebook.

when I ponder President Obama’s seduction of America, I think of the story of the snake and the duck.

This story is perhaps better known as the Scorpion and the Frog, but Selwyn’s brain is so big he can think up new animals on the spur of the moment and randomly plug them into fables.  For instance, The Boy Who Cried Wolf  becomes, in Selwyn’s hands, The Banana Slug Who Screamed Wildebeest.  You have to admit, this kind of refinement does make the moral of the story a lot more potent.

To be brief, the snake wants the duck to take him to the other side of a creek, but the duck is reluctant. He says, “But when we get there, you’ll bite me.” The snake is very persuasive, however, and convinces the duck he wouldn’t do such a thing. He just wants help and would have the utmost appreciation. Well, I think you know what happened upon concluding their little crossing. Bam! The snake bit the foolish bird, who then started stammering, “Bu-bu-bu-but you said . . . .” The snake just replied, “Hey, you knew what I was when you picked me up.” I suppose the duck just wanted to give the serpent a chance.

That certainly is what many want us to give Barack Obama.

The moral:  Never let the President of the United States ride on your back.

I could be snide and just say that I’ll give the president every bit the chance the left gave George Bush. With him they certainly did hiss, and spew venom, attacking him viciously and relentlessly for eight years starting with the oath of office. The man could do nothing right in their eyes, even when spending like any liberal Democrat, even when supporting amnesty for illegals, even when lavishing tax money on Africa, even when signing the prescription drug benefit.

Um, Selwyn?  I don’t want to be accused of trying to punch above my cerebral weight class, but those were all things Bush was attacked for from the right.  What you’ve got here is pretty much the entire list of Bush Administration policies the left actually supported.

But I won’t take that leaf out of the left’s book. I’m not a child and don’t play tit-for-tat.

“I’m a highly evolved life form with a prefrontal cortex no human skull can contain!”


Selwyn (age 13) with Mom and Dad, visiting the Kentucky Caverns.

If Obama is right about something, I’ll acknowledge it and just chalk it up to the inevitable twice-per-diem correctness of a broken clock. What I also won’t do, however, is “give Obama a chance.” I’ll explain why with a couple of analogies.

This should be good.

Imagine there is a businessman who manages a small fast-food restaurant in Illinois. His record is one of virtually always embracing the wrong policies and making bad decisions. Nevertheless, he is offered a position overseeing operations on a statewide level, wherein he once again pursues the same bad policies and makes the same bad decisions. Will you now propose making him the CEO of the company?

Well, if his name is George W. Bush, that’s what we always did in the past.

Or, let’s say there is a lawyer with a small practice, oh, as it happens, also in Illinois. He continually commits misfeasance but nevertheless is appointed state attorney general. He then continues to commit misfeasance. Will you next consider making him Attorney General of the United States? If not, why not? Sure, he never demonstrated competence in law before, but, come on, U.S. Attorney General is a different position. Give ‘im a chance.

It worked for Alberto Gonzalez.

Maybe even ducks get the point.

I think the ducks = us.  Which means we’d better start keeping up with his densely-reasoned thoughts, or Selwyn’s going to eat us with orange sauce.

Contrary to the Republican campaign mantra about Obama having no experience, quite the opposite was true. He had tremendous experience doing the wrong thing, more than enough to paint a picture of what kind of animal he might be.

This week, he’s a higher primate.

The picture may seem like a resplendent deity to followers or a repugnant demon to foes, but it existed. And if you didn’t see it, it wasn’t because Obama hadn’t done enough but because you didn’t know enough.

“Stupid duck brains.  Why do I even waste my time with you people?!”

In reality, Obama has had chance after chance after chance after chance, in the Illinois and U.S. senates and as a community agita . . . uh, I mean, organizer.

Historically, that joke works better if you wink.

Anyway, Selwyn goes on to pad out his column with a bunch of damning things you might not know about Obama, such as Black people seem to like him, but the National Right to Life Committee doesn’t, plus the usual lies and distortions (Obama supports sex education in kindergarten, etc.).

An editor may not know my feelings on blueberry cupcakes or Allen wrenches, but, if he scours my work, he will find enough relevant information to know whether or not I’m suited to his publication.

Sadly, The Journal of Torque Tools and Muffins still turned down Selwyn’s unsolicited poetry.

Likewise, those of us with ears to hear and eyes to see know what Obama is. We’re not ducks.

Because ducks are blind and deaf.  Wait…I thought we were ducks.  So we’re the snake now?  Or the blueberry cupcakes…

Of course, to some, the give-’im-a-chance plea is a ploy, a political artifice used by snakes to silence critics. But these folks really aren’t all that interesting. The ducks are more so, as what often drives them is man’s lamentable propensity for rationalization.

Okay, I think I’ve got it:  We — the ones who want to give Obama a chance — are the snakes, but Selwyn’s readers are the ducks.  Except we don’t really want to give Obama a chance, we’re just saying that so that RenewAmerica’s audience will give us piggyback rides, and then we can inject them with a paralyzing venom and we all drown.

Whatever the ducks’ motivation, what they essentially suggest is comical. To wit: “A doctor who committed malpractice when operating on your toe, hand, leg and stomach should be allowed to operate on your brain because, by gum, he hasn’t had a chance to work above the neck yet.”

This is why I specifically told my HMO that I no longer wanted waterfowl selecting my primary care physician.

Well, what can I say?

Something about mallards, I’m guessing.

The issue is not that Obama isn’t being given a chance; it’s that he has been given too many. But this is a persistent problem in our nation; in fact, we live in a second-chance society. Children are given too many chances to misbehave. Miscreants are given too many chances to commit crime. And, worst of all, the ducks are given too many chances to vote.

And the end result is that America just may have run out of chances.

And now that ducks have the franchise, let’s just hope we don’t also run out of fish eggs and submerged pond weed, or we’re likely to see a severe backlash at the polls.

You May Get Wet On This Fertilization

Posted by scott on February 18th, 2009

North Dakota, embittered that its southern namesake soaks up the regional tourism dollars thanks to its mountainside full of massive Presidential death masks, is attempting to prove that it too contains politicians whose heads were apparently carved from solid granite:

BISMARCK, N.D. (AP) — A measure approved by the North Dakota House gives a fertilized human egg the legal rights of a human being, a step that would essentially ban abortion in the state.

The bill is a direct challenge to Roe v. Wade, the U.S. Supreme Court decision that extended abortion rights nationwide, supporters of the legislation said.

Representatives voted 51-41 to approve the measure Tuesday. It now moves to the North Dakota Senate for its review.

The bill declares that “any organism with the genome of homo sapiens” is a person protected by rights granted by the North Dakota Constitution and state laws.

While this is bad news for the pro-choice community, it’s good news for the country’s engineers, since each fertile woman’s reproductive system will now have to be reclassified as an amusement park ride, and inspected annually for structural safety.


A group of organisms with the genome of homo sapiens enjoys a day of fun at Fargo’s new water park as they ride the Wild Fallopian Tube.

Doug Giles Organizes International Anilingus

Posted by scott on February 16th, 2009


Yes, we all knew this day was coming, but I was hoping that when Pastor Doug Giles finally gave in to his long-repressed passions, he’d be a little more discreet about it.  I mean, a wide stance and a few under-the-partition toe-taps and hand signals seem to get the message across; I see no reason for a banner headline in Townhall.  Plus, I’m not looking forward to Doug turning his hand to Jack Bauer/Homicide Bomber slash fiction, with the inevitable appearance of Gilesian phrases such as “teasingly tongues the Taliban’s tail tunnel.”

I’ve got a great idea: Let’s kiss some terrorist butt! I’m talkin’ a big, slobbery wet one right on their back forty. We might as well, as we are about to muck up the rest of our country with a stimulus package that will stimulate only a liberal government’s lug nuts.

“Remember the old days when you could win any argument just by bringing up terrorism?  At least, in your own mind, which actually worked out fine, because that’s usually where the argument was taking place.   Ha!  If you lefty sob senoritas could just see how stupid you look inside my brain…!”

Danka, Obama. Good job, Pelosi. Suffering succotash, Barney Frank.

Hm.  I can’t shake the feeling there are layers of meaning here that I’m just not getting; better check my English to Giles dictionary…Okay, “Suffering succotash” was the catchphrase of Sylvester the Cat, whose “trademark is his sloppy, stridulating lisp.”  So this paragraph would literally translate as, “Thank you, Obama.  Good job, Pelosi.  Barney Frank is a fag.”

Man, getting through one of Doug’s columns is like trying to read Ulysses, what with all the levels and allusions and what-not. Fortunately, Doug has taken to annotating his work for the bigotry impaired:

Barney Frank. What an SNL skit waiting to happen. If I were named Barney, I’d be pissed. (Though given his sexual proclivities, he does have quite the apropos surname, eh?)

Right.  Anyway, you were saying something about “stimulus” and “wet” and “butt”…?

In addition to the FUBAR governmental enslavement our nation’s about to be saddled with, we’ve officially begun the mainlining of secularism, the okaying of nation-sinking sins, the Ex-Laxing of our immigration laws, the acceleration and radical funding of abortions aplenty, and the real possibility of the government duct-taping any mouth that does not repeat Obama’s mantras. I’d say we’re pretty much sunk.


Welcome to hell, America. Can I take your coat?

I had a feeling if I ever got to hell, I’d find Doug there, condemned to an eternity of collecting the Damneds’ coats and purses and throwing them on Satan’s bed.

As America begins its swirl around and down the global toilet

Which is coming in handy, now that our immigration laws are acting as a laxative.  I’m a little peeved that Schoolhouse Rock never explained what it really meant to “pass a bill.”

…I say we expedite our demise and put on some buttsmacker lip balm and kiss some terrorist booty.

Yeah, but according to the Religious Right — sorry, the Socially Conservative Evangelicals — it’s that kind of behavior that got you sent to hell.

What’s that?

I didn’t say anything…

You say we already are smooching Achmed’s arse?

Uh, no.  I think you probably just left that Rod Majors video running in the other room.

Oh wow! I didn’t know.

Yeah.  Tell it to Saint Peter, pal.

Why I Do Not Mourn The Death Of AM Top 40 Radio

Posted by scott on February 16th, 2009

In 1972, when we just had an AM radio in the car (and my mother was in charge of the dial), I heard every single hour of the day, every single time it rained.  It didn’t matter what station you were listening to, every DJ in the LA Basin had the same Pavlovian stimulus response to precipitation; it was inescapable.  And they were still doing it ten years later when I left California for New York.

The point is, it’s pouring like Hell today, if Hell was a place known primarily for its high yearly rainfall, and I’m blithely listening to my iPod.  Take that, Charlie Tuna, and The Real Don Steele!

My only hope is that at all those defunct AM music stations, the studios now occupied by blustering talk radio wingnuts continue to be haunted by the unexorcisable, ghostly echoes of Albert Hammond.

Scenes From The Hollywood Renaissance

Posted by scott on February 15th, 2009

Tower cranes over Hollywood & Vine.