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Archive for November, 2009

Swanksgiving

Posted by scott on November 27th, 2009

Even though I don’t cook, and have little interest in, or aptitude for hospitality, whenever Thanksgiving rolls around I can’t help but think of Martha Stewart.  This is largely due to my friend P.J., who is a high priestess in the Church of Martha, a cult which exists to create and serve tasty cocktails and hors d’oeuvres around the holidays, and which, were they to merge with the Catholic Church, would undoubtedly make for a very swinging communion.

Speaking of the clergy, Pastor Swank also has Martha Stewart on this mind.  Martha Stewart and…MURDER!  Or at any rate, Mrs. Swank apparently wants to put the doyenne of upper middle class home economics on ice; but Martha has survived the exercise yard and the lesbian wrestling matches in the ladies correctional institution shower room, so sticking a shiv in her may not be quite so easy as La Swank believes.

I THOUGHT MY WIFE WOULD SHARPEN KNIVES WHEN MARTHA STEWART BOILED SARAH PALIN

She was not ready to hoist our turkey knife-upward either. She was livid. She was after Martha Stewart. For certain.

And this wife of mine is a Martha Stewart loyal royal. She loves her show. Martha says it; it’s true. My wife even tried the recipe mimic.

As seen in the 1997 film Recipe Mimic, in which Martha Stewart (Mira Sorvino), creates a powerful insecticide out of ordinary items you find around the house, in order to keep roaches out of the kitchen during holiday meal preparation.  All goes well, until three years later, when authorities discover the substance has triggered the evolution of a species of super-insect that can mimic the appearance and culinary repertoire of Rachel Ray.

But no more. When Priscilla learned that Stewart went after Sarah Palin, finis!  Sarah Palin is not God. But Palin is indeed a choice one for Priscilla.

Great, we could use a hot girl-on-girl scene right about now.  I see it as a combination of The Bishop’s Wife and Bound, with Sarah Palin as an angel sent to help Pastor Swank finally build a church that’s not in his living room, except she falls for Priscilla, and the two plot to steal the construction funds and frame Swank, leading to a violent and deadly climax in the nave (which is awkward, because the chancel doubles as the Swank’s entertainment center, forcing the two women to squeegee the blood off the TV screen before they can watch The L Word).
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Gov. Sarah Palin (L) and Mrs. Priscilla Swank (R) in Dial M for Martha.

So Stewart was asked what she thought of Palin. I saw it with my own eyes. And as far as I could tell, Stewart’s eyes drooped in a condescending fall. The lids were all but on the floor.

The only thing worse than being patronized by falling eyeballs is having to pick up after haughty female media magnates when they leave their lids all over the red carpet.

Stewart let it be known in that soft, cutting voice of the elite that Palin was “boring.” Palin is so boring that Stewart would not even care to walk across the street to hear one syllable from the former Alaskan Governor.  Further, Palin is not only stiff board, she’s “dangerous” for any country. Just plain dangerous. She is not good stuff, in other words.

Well, I don’t know how “dangerous” Palin is, but she may indeed be “not good stuff” (although I believe she gave the “stiff board” to Rich Lowry.)

When I told her what media was telecasting, Priscilla was a bit suspicious that I had fallen into hyperbole.

You?  Noooo…

But when Priscilla heard with her own ears those nasty terms sliding off the kitchen mistress’ tongue, Priscilla just about slid all the knives from her own cabinet onto the fighting field. Priscilla looked to me as if she were after blood.

Why do I think this probably wasn’t the first time Mrs. Swank pulled a knife and looked at the Pastor with murder in her eyes?

After all, there are some moral bases that cannot be crossed without battle begun. I guessed in an instant that the garrisons were being called up and children should run for cover.

Oh great, now she’s Peter Lorre from M (“Hey look, Hon, there’s a balloon trapped in the telephone wires.  I think Mrs. Swank has killed again.”)

Stewart, with all her cute phrases and courteous glances toward one show guest or another was now no friend of Wifey. Stewart’s lush pad and come-back from prison cell was no bait for Priscilla’s liking.

And I can’t say I blame her. I go right along with her analysis of the Cooking Queen.

I predict Swank will regret agreeing with Wifey, because now he’s going to have to help her move the body.

Stewart has lost with us common folk who have brains working for what is decent and logical.

Said…Pastor Swank.

Stewart has tightened all the more with the crusty liberals, dittoing their mantras and bedding down with their tripe.

According to the Urban Dictionary, “bedding down with tripe” is also known as the “Full Menudo” or the “Philadelphia Pepper Pot,” while “dittoing the mantra” is basically a “rusty trombone,” made slightly more hygienic by the “player” wearing a pair of wax lips.

Any questions, just ask Priscilla. She’s ready with the verbiage—out and about and up and down and left to right, no end in sight.

Word to your mother.

Further, as I see her marching up the avenue, I note quite a line of like-minded pot-banging females screaming at the pines.

Suckiest. Vision Quest.  Ever.

That Turkey’s Still Waiting For A Call From The Governor

Posted by scott on November 26th, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  Mary and I usually travel for the holiday, but it’s been a tough year and a half, thanks to several pending projects that perished in the great Financial Sector Flame-Out of Ought Eight and Nine, so we’re forced to stay home and hide from the Hollywood Christmas Parade, which commandeers our entire neighborhood as a staging area, in a clear violation of the Third Amendment.

This year we’re reviving a tradition from the earlier, even more poverty-stricken days of our partnership: watching the Mystery Science Theater 3000 Turkey Day Marathon, while Mary cooks and I…do something helpful.  Provide moral support, probably.

As the show itself is but a sweet, lingering memory, we’ll be pulling down a few selections from the DVD shelf, culminating with some cocktails, a lovingly prepared meal featuring a turkey — naked, alone and afraid, not stuffed inside any other combination of birds — and finally, a cover version of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians by Cinematic Titanic, Joel Hodgson’s successor to MST3K, comprising the original on-camera team from its days as a local oddity on a Minneapolis UHF channel.

Happy Turkey Day, fellow crapiers!  If you get bored with starch and football, drop by later, as I may have a couple new items from Pastor Swank, who has clearly stopped taking his meds this week in order to save room for extra yams.

Scenes From The Hollywood Renaissance – Episode 3

Posted by scott on November 24th, 2009

Sorry for the absence of posts (and malice) this week.  In spite of (or thanks to) the physical therapy, my back has been more querulous than usual lately, so I’ve been trying some Tough Love by giving it time outs and revoking its computer privileges.  Unfortunately, these disciplinary measures haven’t discouraged my spine from sneaking out after dark to get drunk, drag race for pink slips, or go on shooting sprees at the Griffith Observatory, so I guess I’ll just give up and let it go back to blogging.

In the meantime, my spine and I went for a walk this afternoon, and I took a few shots with my iPhone, just to preserve a record of what the world was like before it all ended in 2012.  As you can see, the city has already begun putting up the traditional Christmas decorations on Hollywood Boulevard:

HollywoodXmas1.jpg
Felling a streetlight is a fairly common occurrence on the Boulevard, but it amazes me how these drunks never fail to crash into one of the few remaining old style lamps — the ones with a soupçon of character — rather than the plentiful, and ugly modern fixtures.  You’d think, if nothing else, the law of averages would intervene at some point.  Still, it’s pretty damn festive, don’t you think?
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Post-Friday Beast Blogging: The Prone Pussies Edition

Posted by scott on November 21st, 2009

Riley:

RILEYchilling.jpg

Some days I stand, ever vigilant for signs of human perfidy.  Other times, I feel like, you know…just chillin’.

And Moondoggie:

moonchillin2.jpg

If I could only…reach my…utility belt!  Ah, screw it.

Speaking in Forked Tongues

Posted by scott on November 19th, 2009

PastorSwank1.jpg Good day, brothers and sisters.  Before we begin, the elders have asked me to announce that during the following sermon, Wo’C spiritual guide J. Grant Swank is expected to reach a charismatic climax of such unusual force, distance, throw-weight, and viscosity, that you might want to leave your hat on.

Sarah Palin will be quizzed about political this and that. But when she runs for Oval Office, if she does, and it surely does appear as if it’s in her adrenaline swing, her being Christian will be shredded.

Listen boys, if you’re going to use the adrenaline swing during your sex orgies and rainbow parties, remember to apply adequate lubrication and ease into things, so you don’t wind up shredding her “Christian,” as the kids call it nowadays.  Didn’t the Coach teach you anything in Mental Hygiene class?

She is not only Christian in the biblical definition, but also “evangelical” when it comes to tags.

So if you’re going to “know” her “Christian” in the “biblical sense,” that’s fine, but if, during a peak of passion, she begs you for an “evangelical,” remember to be safe and use a condom and a shoehorn.  (NB:  Some inexperienced young people confuse the “evangelical” with the “throttled pentecostal” — a form of auto-erotic asphyxiation that requires two wet suits and a dildo — or the “Quaker snaker,” which is basically anal sex, except one or both parties are wearing a periwig.)

And not only “evangelical,” but charismatic/pentecostal.

That issue alone will swab the deck.

(“Swabbing the deck” is also known as a “Cincinnati Bowtie” or a “Chinstrap Penguin.”)

The atheists, agnostics and generic secularists will warp and woof. They will holler and screech. They will write and scrawl. They will pull up the sewer tops from every evangelical and pentecostal persona in the past century.

Hey, slow down there, Pastor.  I can’t keep running to the Urban Dictionary every time you discover a new fetish.

Further, they will take especially the pentecostal beliefs and strew them from coast to coast, then every continent. They will misplace them, misstate them, malign them and nail them to hell’s front door.

Then ring the bell and run!

The bloody war that awaits evangelicals and charismatics in particular is not yet envisioned by the general biblical believers. But it will be forthcoming if she goes further than marketing her book.

Examples of the sort of excessive marketing on the part of former Governor Palin which might plunge us into a bloody war include:

  1. Signing copies of “Going Rogue” at a Waldenbooks, while firing on Fort Sumter
  2. Appearing on Oprah to promote her memoir, then shooting Arch-Duke Franz Ferdinand from a helicopter.
  3. Posing in pantyhose and gym shorts for the cover of Runner’s World, then massacring two thousand Huguenots.

Her local church will be swarmed with reporters. Her pastor will have to hide from media.

And from definite and indefinite articles.

Every churchgoer there in her hometown will likewise be buttonholed.

Also known as a “Davenport Corncobbing,” or a “Minnesota Widestance.”

Some will speak clearly regarding doctrine. Others won’t have a clue and so will stir up the theological pot to dirt.

Well, not everyone can speak with the clarity and eloquence of a Sarah Palin.  Or a J. Grant Swank, for that matter.

Then First Dude will be quizzed till he’ll flee on dogsled.

If only he not flee on dogsled, First Dude could answer quiz.  Quiz easy!  “Friend?  Good!  Fire?  Bad!

Palin children will be asked if they agree or disagree with family faith, especially the matriarch’s claim.

A Matriarch’s Claim is basically a Dirty Sanchez using Jean Naté and potpourri.

The Bible verses relating to miracles, the Second Coming and speaking in tongues will make front page fodder, mostly screwed up to the nth.

I tried screwing up to the nth once.  It made me very chafed.

Imagine what Katie Couric will do with the Word.

It actually works better for me if I just think about baseball.

Those truly interested in the topic will be twittering and emailing and posting till their fingers fall off.

Well, it’s better than going blind.

In the meantime, God will oversee the mayhem and wonder what happened when Sarah Palin decided to run run run.

She should flee on dogsled!

The circus has not even started yet. Wait till they pitch the Big Tent.

Oh, I think you’re pitching a pretty big tent right now, Pastor.

Brave, Brave Sir Robin

Posted by scott on November 18th, 2009

For those of us who hunt the wild wingnut, American Thinker is a primeval forest rich in old growth stupidity and large, slow-moving game.  Unfortunately, some of its inhabitants — as we’ve seen — have a tendency to go stark raving Pepe Le Pew at the first whiff of doe estrus, so there’s always a chance that you will drive away, not with a trophy roped to your roof, but with a desperate fame whore clinging to your rear bumper.  Other native species may exhibit symptoms of hydrophobia, or worse, signs of a psychology degree, which is why I generally give Charles Krauthammer a wide berth, and why I’ve always avoided Robin of Berkeley.  Until now.

Robin is, according to his or her bio, “[a] frequent AT contributor” and “a psychotherapist and a recovering liberal in Berkeley,” which to me conjures one word: gamey.  Additionally, anyone who goes by the nom de plume “Robin of Berkeley” is probably a , and the last thing I need right now is some guy in a kilt and a puffy pirate shirt heaving beanbags at me while screaming “lightning bolt!  Lightning bolt!“  Still, Robin raises a serious issue and deserves, I believe, a sincere and thoughtful response.

It’s a chilling moment when the light goes out in someone’s eyes. A once-radiant child hardens from abuse. A woman’s heart shrinks after her husband’s abandonment.

The person looks the same, maybe acts the same. But something is gone, and what’s lost is irretrievable. It’s like when a person dies: in a heartbeat, the soul vanishes.

I witnessed this alteration recently when I visited my goddaughter, a radiant girl. Her mom, a hardcore progressive, has started exposing her to the darkest elements of the left. And the last time I looked in the girl’s eyes, the light had gone out. Disappeared. Just like that.

It’s certainly bizarre how the light seems to go out of the girl’s eyes every time Robin walks into the room.  It must be that dolphin-friendly tuna her mom bought.

I see this phenomenon every day: a light dimming. The friendly shopkeeper snaps at me. My cheerful neighbor seems flattened.

Yeah, that’s a pretty weird coincidence.  It’s almost as if there were some common denominator between all these people who suddenly look depressed when they see you coming.

Last week, an esteemed Columbia University black architecture professor punched a white female coworker in the eye for not doing more about white privilege.

And that was hardly an isolated incident — unlike, say, a black man being arrested in his own home for talking back to a white cop.

He has no history of violence. So why now?

Why now? This may be the most important question of our time. Why are some people reaching the boiling point? Why do many others look vacant, like an Invasion of the Body Snatchers? The shootings at military bases, from Little Rock to Fort Hood — why now?

It’s Obama, of course.

Crap, and I guessed it was Colonel Mustard.

Liberals will excoriate me for writing this.

Well, if by “excoriate” you mean “laugh ourselves just slightly past the point of incontinence,” then yeah, you might want to grab a poncho and prepare for a shower of excoriation.

But study the phenomenon of cults, and the dynamics are always the same. The leader can incite violence without ever getting his hands dirty. Obama is controlling the marionette of the masses.

It was bad enough when Obama was merely a charismatic presidential candidate, but now that he’s Commander in Chief, he has access to Super-Marionation.  And even if he doesn’t take away our guns, what chance do We The People stand against the Thunderbirds and Super Car?

If Obamamania is a cult, then Obama is the cult leader.

Exactly.  And if American Thinker exists to promote the decriminalization of sex with South American camelids, such as alpacas, llamas, vicuñas and guanacos, then a pundit who writes for American Thinker is a person who likes to make the alpaca with two backs.  Q.E.D.

Cult leaders routinely pull the strings of their followers.

This can be awkward for all involved, especially if their followers are having their period.

The most extreme example is Charles Manson. He rots in prison for murders he never committed. He didn’t have to do the dirty work. His brainwashed charges did his bidding.

I’m not saying Obama is a Charles Manson.

“I’ve just found that, as a psychotherapist, it’s helpful to talk using the most extreme examples possible.  It puts people at ease.”

As soon as Obama came on the scene, the programming began. His face was plastered everywhere like Mao. In his speeches, Obama lulled audiences with a melodious voice and feel-good phrases repeated over and over. And he began inciting people with his charming smile.

Flashing a charming smile is like burning a cross — that’s why there was so much mob violence during the Carter Administration.

First, the vultures starting swooping down on Hillary. Obama chose not to call off the dogs.

Personally, I would have called off the vultures, but I’m not a cult leader, and my smile is at best merely pleasant.

Then thugs invaded caucuses. Again, silence.

Well yeah, but why would Obama care about thugs in the caucasus?  He’s not even caucasian.

Which led to vicious misogyny against Sarah Palin and threats on her life. From Obama: not a peep.

Maybe he could lend her some of his highly trained attack vultures.

We even saw armed thugs at polling places.

The lesson?  Always vote before you take the mushrooms.

Ignored and not prosecuted by Obama’s Attorney General.

And Animal Control still hasn’t done anything about that chupacabra in my back yard.

The moment Obama became president, he upped the signals.

As opposed to Bush, who just pirated cable.

At the swearing in, the entire family eerily chose to wear black and red, colors associated with communism and black nationalism.

obama-family-inauguration.jpg

I know colorblindness can make it difficult to obtain a pilot’s license, but apparently it’s no impediment to practicing psychotherapy.

Obama returned Britain’s gift of a Winston Churchill statue while embracing dictators.

Which is why he could only give the dictators that one-armed “bro” hug.

He gave a white police officer a dressing down for doing his job, in effect calling him a racist.

Then he gave him a beer for coming to the White House, in effect calling him an alcoholic.

Obama’s greatest magic trick?

Making the world he believe he doesn’t exist.  Oh, wait — no, that’s the Devil.  Or Keyser Söze.

Brainwashing the masses to believe that racism is a greater danger than radical Islam, and that Obama himself is in constant peril.

Pah!  Who’d want to hurt a cult leader who makes the country feel vacant and reminds them of Charles Manson?

Thus, more and more people are finding themselves on the receiving end of a fist, figurative or literal. After the White House released a directive for his followers to strike back hard, a frail, diabetic black man at a Town Hall was beaten up.

Even women can get slugged in the face. Obama signaled during the primary that women were fair game.

Obama’s master plan is diabolical, but brilliant: by using his smile to incite white people to beat up black men, and black men to beat up white women, he improves the odds that health care reform will emerge from the conference committee with a robust public option.

The American Hard Left knows how to create a cult because it is a cult, one with a violent history. The Black Panthers, Symbionese Liberation Army, Weathermen, Black Muslims — all nefarious cults.

The Ku Klux Klan, The Order, Aryan Nations, the Michigan Militia, the Moonies, the Minutemen American Defense, the Glenn Beck Show…Say, this is fun!

Members of the Weathermen, for instance, had their spirits broken through forced wickedness, such as animal abuse.  Patty Hearst morphed into bank robber Tania after weeks of isolation, rape, and beatings by the SLA.   Huey P. Newton sent his Black Panthers to the hospital or to the grave if they didn’t practice total obedience.

So in Robin’s mind, losing an election is equivalent to being beaten and raped.  If nothing else, these are the kinds of insights that make for a very lively therapy session.

The Left has an insatiable need to control every aspect of our lives.

But there’s a deeper reason, one much more insidious.

The Left wants to tear Americans down. Just as the Weatherman did to those naïve lost kids, they want to break our spirits. This goal of degradation is more crucial than their one-world government.

The progressives want to turn us into them, to make us feel as deprived and depraved and deadened. It’s the only way that they can silence the roar of shame and self-loathing.

Robin was apparently absent the day they covered “projection” in Psych 101.

What they don’t understand is this: it’s not going to happen. There are too many of us who won’t be hypnotized.

We can see right through them. We know who they are: the most piteous of human beings, and the most dangerous. Men without a country, orphans far from home. The forsaken and disowned.

They’re “hungry ghosts,” to use a Tibetan phrase: tormented beings who are starving to death from their inner nothingness.

“Sit down, Jenny, I’m glad you came to me for help.  As I understand it, you were sexually abused by a camp counselor, but I think your real problem stems from your mother’s support for the public option.  That’s the kind of progressive thinking that leaves a once-radiant girl depraved and deadened inside.  Is your mom in favor of gay marriage?  Yeah?  Well no wonder you’re roaring with shame and self-loathing, what with that kind of forced wickedness going on in the house.  Yes, yes, I know you were raped, but it’s not like you lost 21 seats in the house and 7 in the Senate, so quit trying to up the signals!  Now, speaking as your therapist, I want to put this delicately, and in the most extreme way I can: I don’t think you’re suffering from PTSD, I think you’re just haunted by hungry ghosts — you know, tormented beings who are starving to death inside you because you have no soul for them to feed upon…?

Hey — what’s the deal with the light going out in your eyes…”

UPDATED BELOW
Today’s Guest Column is by Bill S.

On October 28, the President signed The Matthew Shepard act, which expands on the existing federal Hate Crimes law passed in 1969. It was historic — to the best of my knowledge, it’s the first federal law to acknowledge that LGBT people are citizens of the U.S., deserving of equal protection under the law. This has not gone over well with some people, particularly those who refuse to believe that anti-gay hate crimes even happen. In 2004, there was even a segment on 20/20 that attempted to raise doubts about the Shepard murder. That piece was widely discredited by most people directly involved in the case, including the primary investigating officer, Rob DeBeers.

“I have never worked on a homicide case with this much evidence,” Rob says, all these months later a bit of wonder still bleeding in his voice. “It was like a case of God giving it to us. I’m not kidding. The whole way it broke down from beginning to end-it was like, here it is boys, work it. It’s almost like it pissed off God, and he says, oh well, come here, let me walk you over here, walk you over there, pick up all that. It was just a gift.”Bruce Garrett adds, “I drove that same path when I was in Laramie, to the extent I was able to before coming upon all the ‘private property signs’, and that same impression swept over me like a cold clammy sickness. You simply cannot drive the path that Shepard’s killers took and come away from it believing it was simply a robbery gone bad. Unless of course that is what you need to believe.”

Which is what leads to vile garbage like this column by Pam Meister.

Quick: When I say “Matthew Shepard”, what do you think? A man killed because he was gay? Or a poor sap in the wrong place at the wrong time?

When I say “Pam Meister,” what do you think? Brainless nimrod? Or heartless asshole?

A crime is a crime. It shouldn’t matter if the victim was a target because he was black, because he was gay…

…said the white heterosexual. But she’s right. Since when does motive matter, except for, oh, every single time?  Yeah. Murder is murder. And vandalism is vandalism, when you deface a billboard by painting mustache on the model’s face, or deface a synagogue by painting a swastika on the door. And arson is arson, whether you torch a warehouse to collect insurance, or burn a cross on your neighbor’s lawn. They’re exactly the same, and affect communities in the same exact way. And when investigating those cases, we should look for the same suspects.

And what of Shepard? He was a troubled young man who was HIV positive and into the drug scene too. This is not to say I blame the victim-far from it.

By “far from it,” she means, “So close she’s practically rimming it with her tonsils.

But his issues are relevent to what happened after his death. Cliff Kincaid explores this theme further:
“…The gay rights movement wanted to depict Shepard as a victim of a homophobic society. This played into their demands to curb so-called “Hate Crimes”.

But ABC and Vargas ALSO show Shepard to be a very depressed young man, on the verge of suicide, because of his homosexual lifestyle. The “gay rights” lobby doesn’t want to face up to that. Matthew Shepard wasn’t “gay” and “proud”. He was profoundly troubled.

doesn’t look like a young man who was troubled by his sexual orientation.

If Matt was battling depression, it’s more likely because three years prior to the murder, while he was a student abroad in Morocco, he was beaten and raped. Strange how people trying paint him as a druggy slut tend to omit this traumatic event from his bio.

I believe I speak for everyone when I say , “Go French Kiss a chainsaw, you ignorant sack of jackal vomit.”

Speaking of which, Gary Cass of The Christian Anti-defamation Commission has launched a protest against the Hate Crimes act, set to be held in D.C. today, at 1:30 PM.

“The Rally For Religious Freedom” in front of the Department of Justice is intended to force Attorney General Eric Holder either to address the issues or be put in a position of ignoring those who say they are violating the provisions of the federal law”, Cass told WND. “We’re going to declare the whole council of God, including those parts that some may consider ‘inciting a hate crime’ to see if the attorney general is going to come down and arrest a group of peaceful clergy exercising their First Amendment rights.”

Since the Hate Crimes Act is perfectly clear on the matter of speech, my guess is that as long as they’re peaceful, he won’t do anything.But that won’t stop Cass & co. from their little publicity stunt, which has drawn support from some charming people:

…Rick Scarborough went on Janet Porter’s radio program yesterday to discuss it and Porter pledged to join them in standing outside the Department of Justice as they seek to get arrested for preaching the Bible.  According to the program, Porter, Scarborough, and the others will be joined by Matt Barber and Gordon Klingenschmitt (as well as Brian Camenker of Mass Resistance).

What, no Pete LeBarbera? I guess it’s the absence of a crowd of Leather Daddies keeping him away from it. Scarborough adds this:

“To test this belief and protest a clear violation of First Amendment freedom of speech and religion, various clergy will preach short sermons and read passages from the Bible regarding homosexual behavior. Like Dr. Martin Luther King and the Sixties Civil Rights movement, they will engage in civil disobedience to protest injustice.”

Did anybody else’s Bullshit Meter just explode?

Well, we know they won’t get arrested for this little display, any more than a person quoting Shakespeare’s line, “The first thing we’ll do, let’s kill all the lawyers”* will be arrested for issuing a death threat. But something tells me they will get arrested for something. So I leave it to you, dear readers, to put on your psychic skullcaps or what have you, and predict what will happen during or after this stunt occurs. It’ll be interesting to see who comes the closest to getting it right.

*Henry VI (Part 2), Act IV, Scene II.

-Bill S

Apparently the rally didn’t really go all that well.  (And frankly, I never imagined that dainty, girly-girl house-muffin Janet Folger Porter sounds like an adenoidal 14-year old boy yelling at his little brother for taking his collectible action figures out of their original packaging.)

When Science Projects Ruled the World

Posted by scott on November 15th, 2009

As if to prove that not all scientifically-minded Oregonians are gibbering goofballs (see previous post), my brilliant and talented niece, who goes by the counterintuitive sobriquet “Mad Dog,” recently constructed a science project that would have been the envy of Rube Goldberg or Wile E. Coyote.  Enjoy!

Mourning Becomes America

Posted by scott on November 12th, 2009

World Net Daily has a fresh new wingnut on display this evening: Dr. Arthur Robinson, “president and research professor of the Oregon Institute of Science and Medicine.”  This is obviously a prestigious organization, for not only does OISM sound like the noise an East End constable makes when he orgasms, it’s also dedicated to “increasing the quality, quantity, and length of human life.”  Most institutions exploring this bold frontier of scientific inquiry limit their research to prolonging, or improving the quality of human life, without even considering how we might use recent advances in medicine to increase our rate of reincarnation; but Dr. Robinson has gone where others fear to tread, in his quest to resurrect Ronald Reagan.

Whether this goal involves grafting the head of the 40th president onto a healthy body (perhaps the 44th president’s?), as South American Nazis planned to do in the 1963 documentary, They Saved Hitler’s Brain, or transplanting his gray matter into a robot, as was done in the 1958 science fiction classic, Colossus of New York*, or duplicating him whole from DNA samples and raising his clone in a giant Habitrail, like they did in 2005′s The Island**, is a question Dr. Robinson prefers to leave unaddressed, but there is no question that Ronald Reagan needs to rise from the grave, and he needs to do it now:

Morning in America

Yes, we know it feels like rnidnight – and would even if Ronald Reagan were here in person to cheer us up, but we must get through the night in order to enjoy the morning.

It’s the dark night of the soulless.

The difference is that the sun is not going to rise for us automatically. We are going to have to pull it up by ourselves.

I recommend using oven mitts.

American freedom has been unconscionably abridged and American resources wasted. While the Obama regime has sharply accelerated these trends, most of the damage was done over the century that preceded his Marxist reign.

Let me guess…the whole country went down the crapper when they passed the Sixteenth Amendment.

Our constitutional republic and the vast engineering miracle that its freedom made possible…

Otherwise known as the 18-Hour Bra.

…have been slowly strangled by creeping socialism and fascism – in the form of government-sponsored taxation

I really don’t see why government always has to sponsor taxation.  Why can’t they sponsor a NASCAR team for once, or an alcoholic?

These confiscated resources have paid for seemingly endless war, character-destroying welfare and the rise of a bureaucratic elite of government employees that now comprises almost 20 percent of our “workers” and is paid, on average, twice as much in wages and benefits as those still working in the private, free-enterprise sector.

And we wouldn’t have this problem if Reagan had finished breaking all the public employee unions, but thanks to the stupid 22nd Amendment, he only had time to crush the Air Traffic Controllers.

This deadly parasitic malignancy

…which my research institute has perfected, and now offers for sale to the highest bidder, be they foreign government, shadowy cartel, or international terrorist organization…

– the mutant that has arisen from our original form of government – has spread throughout our land. Not content to merely live upon its host, the thing is killing the republic upon which it depends for sustenance.

So, we can add a few more items to our list of Methods for Resurrecting Ronald Reagan:

  1. Genetically engineer a mutant Dutch, preferably with super-powers.
  2. Create a sentient, slug-like Reagan who will infiltrate and control a host organism, much like Kyle MacLachlan did in The Hidden (1987).
  3. Pay a vampire to bite the ex-president so he will rise from the grave at nightfall and feast upon the blood of his former constituents.
  4. Bring him back as a plain old zombie.

Anyway, back to the Doctor (and not to complain or anything, but given that he’s a mad scientist, he could try giving his rants a bit more pizazz.  Nothing showy; maybe he could just occasionally punctuate a thought with a high-pitched cackle, or an ejaculated “Fool!“  Just a suggestion.)

Imagine the prosperity and technological wonders that the $10 trillion in capital earned by the nuclear power industry would have made possible – but that our government made impossible.

Just don’t imagine all the radioactive waste.  Instead, focus on the trillions of dollars that could be earned each year by super-villains holding our plentiful nuclear power plants hostage.  Why, the remodeling and expansion of underground lairs in extinct volcanoes alone could kick start our slumping construction industry.

Imagine the prosperity and accomplishments we have lost by being required to conduct our economic affairs with fiat money – printed by government whim – rather than honest money, which has been a core component of human prosperity for thousands of years.

It is, I confess, more than a little embarrassing to live in a country where the only people still on the gold standard are leprechauns.  And frankly, even exchanging gold and silver coins for goods and services smacks of those too-clever-by-half tranches, and derivatives, and other newfangled financial instruments that drove our economy to the brink of collapse.  I think the only sane, secure, and historically sound course is to return to the Trinket Standard.

We provided our government with the wealth, technology and patriotic soldiers to provide for our common defense – but those resources were instead used to build a worldwide empire that is now draining us of our remaining wealth and is sustained by borrowing from the potential enemies from whom we need to be defended.

Imagine what our productive people could still accomplish if half of their earnings – the half that they do not need for food, housing, shelter, and other necessities – were not confiscated by government.

I hope one of those things they can accomplish is defending us from our enemies without an Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marine Corps.  You take first watch.

Today, it is very difficult for an ordinary young American to accumulate enough after-tax capital to even own his home. He is encouraged to enslave himself to the government-sponsored banking industry for 30 years instead.

It’s scandalous that people have to go into debt to buy a house nowadays.  Why, when I was a kid, I bought a 3 bedroom, 2½ bath rambler for cash with my paper route money.

Imagine that we were free of these injustices. Imagine that our physical and economic freedom were to return to that of our country’s founding or even to move halfway back – far enough to allow a virtual explosion in human accomplishment and well-being … Human freedom coupled with modern technology will achieve miracles.

For instance, Dr. Robinson has solved the seemingly intractable problem of global climate change by asking people to give him money so he can circulate a petition saying it doesn’t exist.  Science!

While our woes have crept upon us slowly, masked in part by the wealth generated by science and technology, they are “creeping” no more. In Washington today, we are seeing an astonishing acceleration of the tyranny of statism, socialism, fascism and Marxism that has come upon us – but it is no longer clothed in its many disguises. We are seeing it stark naked.

Fortunately, miracle modern technology has given us Liposuction and the Tummy Sizer.

The miracle of the Internet now allows Americans to communicate in total freedom. The media that fed them propaganda is dying. The truth is electronically available to all. It can no longer be hidden. [...]  Truth now stands in the marketplace on an equal footing with untruth. On this level playing field, the truth will win. The only major newspaper in America that is not dying is the Wall Street Journal

Of course, once all transactions are conducted solely with precious metals, and Rupert Murdoch has put the Wall Street Journal, FoxNews.com and the rest of his media empire behind a pay wall, you’ll have figure out how to shove doubloons through your ethernet cable.

Ronald Reagan was right – but his optimism was ahead of its time. His country still needed to experience more tyranny before it appreciated its freedom. Now, Reagan’s time has come.

Grab a shovel.

*Check pages 128-130 of for more on why you shouldn’t put the president’s head in a giant robot body made from paper-maché.
**Click here and scroll down to see why cannibalizing Scarlett Johansson to keep President Reagan supplied with kidneys is a potentially bad idea.

At the Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day…

Posted by scott on November 11th, 2009

Flandersfield.jpg

The Hoosier Sage has surpassed himself with a beautiful and trenchant post on the meaning — and the lost meaning — of this day: The Old Lie.