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May 25, 2006

Hello Cleavland. Put Your Brows Toghether For...

braustg.jpgHere's the piece I just finished for the City Paper. Not my best writing but, when you consider that I originally hadn't planned on it being a piece, I'm fairly happy with it.

On to other, less weighty matters:

Believe it or not (I almost didn't), Fongo has gotten a reply to his recent letter to those Storm Troopers for Jesus, Battle Cry:

Hi, Jerry!

Thank you very much for your e-mail and also for your support of the Battle Cry!
It's interesting to hear about your ministry and great to hear about your popularity in the greater-Lancaster area!

The best thing to do if you are interested in being a part of next year's tour would be to send an e-mail with all of this information in it to [nicechristianlady@jackeduponjesus.com]. She will let you know about press kit information and any other things that she will need to know in order to make a decision.

Again, thank you very much, and God bless you.

For every bit of His glory,

[Well-intentioned Delusional Christian]
Battle Cry Coalition Coach

_ . _

Dear Miss or Mrs. (But definitely not "Ms." as we all know "what's up" with that) [DogandPonyShowPromoter],

My name is Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski and I am the lead guitarist for the CHRISTIAN Heavy Metal band BRAÜ. As I know that you're very busy ferreting out the unrighteous, I'll cut right to the chase: BRAU would be honored if we could perform at the next Battle Cry rally.

As I've already said, BRAÜ is a Christian Heavy Metal band; however, unlike most Christian Heavy Metal bands, who tend to write songs about the entire Bible we've decided that it would be best to focus our abundant teenage energy on spreading the news of Deuteronomy 14:1 which, as I'm certain you know, says:

"Ye are the children of the LORD your God: ye shall not ... make any baldness between your eyes..."

So far we've composed nearly two-dozen songs including "Pluck Jock Girl" (this song is about this girl who I used to go to school with until my parents took me out of public school. She was from "Iranaindiastan" and not only worshiped a whole bunch of demonic "Gods" but also shaved her eyebrows and took an unnatural interest in women's athletics), "Power of the Brow" (a power ballad dedicated to our drummer Rikki's mom who protests outside of a waxing salon every Friday), "In Hell There Are No Uni-Brows", and our most popular song, "Feel The Connection"(lyrics included below). We also do a cover of "Eyes Without A Face", only we change the words to "Eyebrows Without A Space". Please let me know if you'd like me to send you some MP3's of our music.
Yours in an unshaven Christ,
Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski
PS. If you would like us to perform at the next Battle Cry rally, please note it won't be necessary to have to have former Navy SEALS crawl across the stage during our set as we have a group of friends who dress as 17th Century Cavaliers and do pretty much the same thing.

Feel The Connection by BRAÜ

Feel the connection where two brows meet
Like merging traffic on a one-way street
Like a blending of things that are blended together
A brow so thick it could almost be a sweater

Shaving your brows is like Eve biting the apple
But letting them join is like ceiling of that chapel

Feel the connection where two join as one
Like melting ice cream under the sun
Let's all join together a give the Battle Cry
"Don't make any baldness between your eyes"

Shaving your brows is like crucifying Jesus
But letting them join is the thing that will please us

Feel the connection [Repeat and fade]

The Latin word of the day is:
decem -ten

The ancient Greek word of the day:
paroimia - ptoverb

May 23, 2006

God Doesn't Give Awards to Crybabies

Sorry about going MIA last night, but I was on a super-secret assignment for the City Paper. I had planned on using tonight to post a trashing of another Answers in Genesis cartoon, but when I clicked on their website I happened to notice a couple of things which realigned the focus of my energy.

The first was this. It's a nearly 1,000 word long Boo Hoo Hoo-Fest about the Pulitzer Prize being awarded to a cartoonist who regularly *gasp* mocks Creationists. Bench-warming Jesus on a Minor League team, Right Wing Christians control both Houses of Congress, The Executive Branch, and the Supreme Court and now they want to get to pick who gets a Pulitzer? What's next; Pat Robertson handing out the trophy for Best Group Anal Scene at the Adult Video Awards? Shit Luther, it's the Media's bias against Christianity that has prevented U2 from ever winning a single award and forcing the Irish lads to toil in obscurity and poverty.

What really makes the piece fun, in a watching a blind orphan choke to death on a baby seal kind of way, is that fact that it was penned by none other than AiG's resident cartoonist, Dan "I make The Family Circus look like Ghost World" Lietha. If you thought my regular "Why is Henry Rollins more famous than me" pieces were pathetic, you ain't seen nuttin' 'till you've read Dan's screed which basically translates into "But...but where's my award, Jesus?" Don't worry Dan; you'll get your reward in Heaven: when St. Peter bends you over a cloud and makes you his special alter boy.

Hell, I'm also a cartoonist and you don't see me crying all over my keyboard every time that shitheel who draws Dilbert finds a prize in his Cracker Jacks.

Because I never post a piece that hasn't been thoroughly researched (except for those dozen or so wherein I accused Eleanor Roosevelt of being a Japanese spy), I took a look back through Dan's collection of two-dimensional atrocities and noticed something interesting. Take a look at this cartoon. Now take a look at this one. Notice anything? No, not the total lack of ability to draw using perspective of even the most rudimentary grasp of human antimony. OK, here's a clue.
That's right; Dan's Adam and Eve are Black! My how Fundies have evolved from the days when portraying Adam and Eve as being any darker than the members of ABBA could get them run outta town on a rail. Could it be possible that Dan Lietha, the man who inks After Eden, might understand that White skin is a mutation that occurs over thousands of years, therefore the earliest humans must've been Black? Can it be that Dan "Gawd done it!" Lietha is guilty of publishing cartoons that promote the idea of Evolution?

Well, miracles never cease.

The Latin word of the day is:
damnare - to condemn

The ancient Greek word of the day:
kataleipw - to leave behind, bequeath

May 20, 2006

Breaking News: Oscar Wilde Was Gay!

nuri1.jpgI'll get to the results of my DNA test in a minute, but you have got to read this mainly because it's fuckin' priceless. Remember the other week when we were all speculating on whether or not Blair (who was about to appear on The Frank DeCarro Show) had any idea that that Frank DeCarro is such a flaming homosexual that he's often been mistaken for a refinery fire? Well, assume your crash positions because here comes the answer from Blair's own E-journal:

We immediately headed to another radio interview. This one was for Sirius Satellite Radio. My new minivan came equipped with Sirius so I was excited about this. I had no idea what I was getting into. We walked into the studio and met the funniest man, Frank DeCarro. We began the interview and he was so much fun. Then he opened the line for callers. One lady called in and said that "Jo" was her first crush. Then another caller and asked if "Jo" and "Blair" grew up and ended up living together in a house full of cats. I, naively, volunteered that, in fact, Nancy and I had lived together for a short while in our early twenties.
A few more callers later and it suddenly dawned on me why this show was called "OutQ 106." (It was a gay radio station.) Mindy told me later that she could barely keep on going with the interview without losing it because she saw the revelation on my face about halfway through the interview. Everyone had a good laugh at my expense.

Blair should really give some serious consideration to having "Everyone had a good laugh at my expense" chiseled on her tombstone because I get the feeling that it's been a recurring theme in her life. DeCarro is a fucking evil genius. I can almost hear the snicker in his voice as he said, "Let's go to the phones."

Now that we have the answer to that question, let's move on to another: that of my ethnicity.

As stated above, I've gotten the results back from my DNA test (they only tested my Y-Chromosome) conducted by the Genographic Project and here's what I've found out:

I belong to the R1b (M343) haplogroup. My short tandem repeats are


And here's the story of my father's peoples' journey out of Africa, through the Middle East and Central Asia, and into Europe in a handy graphical format:


What does this all mean? Long-story-short: I am a run-of-the-mill garden variety no-frills Honky. When the Black Israelites shout through their bullhorns about "Whitey", they're talking about me. In fact, according to my genetic profile I'm so White that at this very moment I should be smoking a pipe and mowing my suburban lawn.

Now here's an odd thing: it wasn't too long ago that if you told a White-man that he was, indeed, 100% European he'd be overjoyed (particularly if he lived in Germany in the 1930's and early 40's). Maybe this is a reflection of how far white people have come, or maybe it has something to do with White-guilt, but I was really hoping for some color in my family tree (which we now know is an Ash tree). I figured there might be some Semitic or Mongolian genes floating around in my DNA. At first, finding out that I share the same genetic profile as most of the UK was rather a bit of a disappointment. And then it hit me: compared to my ancestors, most of the other haplogroups are a bunch of lily-livered bedwetting pantywaists. Think about it:

Around 50,000 years ago, one of my ancestors (who donated my M168 genetic marker) decided to walked out of Africa. That's right; he took a look around and said "You know what? I'm pretty god-of-the-volcano-damn tired of getting my ass chased up a tree every couple of days by a cheetah, so I'm just gonna start walkin' until I don't see anymore trees or cheetahs. Who's with me? If you stay, I don't want to hear any complaints when my decendents come back with ships, guns, and shackles."

And my ancestors kept walking. 5,000 years later another of my ancestors (from whom I picked up my M89 genetic marker) had settled in what we now call "The Middle East" or "Bedouin Bedlam". My family only stayed here for a few millennia. Most scientists agree that you have to stay in this are much longer before your descendents strike oil or develop a hatred of Jews.

By roughly 40,000 years ago, my ancestors had left Iran an hoofed it as far north as the Himalayas. Modern genetics have pretty much proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that my ancestor from whom I received the M9 genetic marker was virtually indistinguishable from Apu on The Simpson's.

My M45 genetic marker came to me from a man who lived on the steppes of what are today two of the shittiest countries in the world: Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. This guy spent his days hunting animals so huge that seeing their skeletons in museums of natural history has caused people to shit their pants.

30,000 years ago my ancestors (along with my M173 marker) found themselves in Europe and in the middle of the Ice Age. While some peoples' ancestors got to bask in the warm sun, mine spent frustrating days and miserable nights competing with the Neanderthals for scarce resources.

And my ancestors won. I carry the M343 genetic marker. I am a direct descendent of the Cro-Magnon: the people who invented cave painting, musical instruments, and spears that were the ICBM's of their day.

Of course, it would be tens of thousands of years before one of my ancestors boarded a ship (not one of those huge 20th century Ellis Island ships, but one of the leaky 17th century type) for America: a country where, at present, an Atheist with a PhD who spends his days pulling orphans out of burning buildings would still lose in an election if he or she ran against an illiterate dog-fight promoter whose best friend is a dead guy named Jesus. That's why, on clear nights, I stare out my window at Mars.

_ . _

Since Sunday is my birthday, I'll be taking the rest of the weekend off from writing.

The Latin word of the day is:
sanguis -inis - blood

The ancient Greek word of the day:
elkw - to drag

May 18, 2006

Hot Monkey Love

battlecy.jpgDamn. Maybe Rick Santorum was on to something after all (or maybe he was just on something). We've opened up the can o' worms that is Gay marriage and now the papers are filled with tales of man-on-monkey sex. OK, technically, it's proto-human-on-proto-chimp hanky panky. Either way, it's gonna be fun to see how the cognitively challenged crowd over at Answers in Genesis spin this one. May I suggest, "Well, you have to understand that Noah's Ark was a sort of Biblical interspecies Love Boat. If any monkey fucking went down, it definitely happened there."

Speaking of Fundamentalist monkey fuckers, I went way too easy on Battle Cry (like a little girl) the other day. The more I read about these goose-stepping little asswipes, the more I wanna mess with their heads until they bleed out the ears. Sweet camouflaged Jesus, if I started building a private army that didn't consist of tiny plastic Roman soldiers, the Government would definitely retaliate by doing something equally as crazy: like logging my phone calls for five years without a court order. So why isn't BattleCry (like a bitch) founder Ron Luce currently pulling his orange jumpsuit down around his ankles so that the NSA can shove a microphone up his ass? As Sun Tzu said in The Art of War, "Know thy enemy and know thyself, find naught in fear for 100 battles", so let's all learn about Ron"Ye Olde Towne Crier" Luce.

Ron Luce is the driving force behind Teen Mania Ministries (Which is either the worst name for an organization, or the best name for a band, or a more than adequate name for a porn film. I can't decide.), and the author of Battle Cry for a Generation: The Fight to Save America's Youth, which will be featured on the RATYHTL book-of-the-month-club... the minute I exhaust every other possibility including Archie Comics and Mad Libs.

Perhaps Luce's greatest idea (from a pure "potential for comedy" perspective) is the Honor Academy (Which is either the worst name for a school, or the best name for a '80's Nu Wave band, or a more than adequate name for a teen sex comedy. I can't decide.). And just what is the Honor Academy? Fuck if I can figure it out. The whole thing comes off as a cross between a Scientology seminar and a sweatshop. Officially it's a program "designed to cultivate and develop the leadership potential in young adults while preparing them to impact today's world for Christ" featuring "weekly classes, Life Transforming Events (LTEs) (that is soooo L. Ron Hubbard!), practical hands-on experience, and vocational training in ministry placements."

Vocational training? What sort of careers could these backwards mule-plookers possibly prepare the youth of America for (other than mule-plooking, of course)? Well, there's Graphic Design, Administrative Assistant, Operations and Logistics Support, and Information Tech Specialists. Shit Luther, those jobs aren't so bad. I guess I just might've misjudged...

Oh, wait; there's also Telephone Rep ("I'm calling you during the dinner hour in order to tell you some exciting news about long distance dialing plans."), Maintenance and Grounds Support ("Tell 'em not to flush the toilets until I get that dead rabid squirrel outta the sewer pipe."), and Cafeteria Crew ("Have you tried our delicious apple pies?"). And what does it cost to learn to dial a phone, pull weeds, or drop your WWJD pin into the fry vat? Only $7,200 for the yearlong experience that should prepare any high school graduate for college.

I guess that the important thing to remember here is that Ron Luce is not a homosexual. So I don't want to see any comments like "Jeezuz, what an cock-swallowing, glory-hole Bogarting, penis-pirate" or "$7,200 will buy a lot of late-night helpings of 'Cream of Meat' in the Castro district" or "Luce in the john with sailors", OK?

PS. Don't miss BattleCry's hilarious Teenage Bill of Rights

The Latin word of the day is:
pila -ae - ball

The ancient Greek word of the day:
prattw - do, carry out get on (with a monkey)

May 16, 2006

BRAU: Nearly as big as His Rod & Staff

I think I'll be able to live with having missed the BattleCry rally over the weekend. Fongo, on the other hand...

Dear, BattleCry
I was overjoyed to hear about Battlecry concert that took place in Philadelphia last weekend. Unfortunately, I learned about the gathering too late to offer my services.

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski and I am the lead guitarist for the Christian Heavy Metal group BRAÜ. I'm hoping that you may have heard of us because, and I'm doing my best to be humble here, we are quite popular in the greater-Lancaster area (In fact, I think it's fair to say that we're nearly as popular as local legends His Rod & Staff). While most Christian groups tend to write songs about the entire Bible, we've decided to focus on to Deuteronomy 14:1 which, as I'm certain you know, says:

"Ye are the children of the LORD your God: ye shall not ... make any baldness between your eyes..."

So far we've composed nearly two-dozen songs including "Slave to the Shave", "Red, White, and Brow", "A Little Trim/A Mortal Sin", and our anthem, "BRAÜ" (lyrics included below). We also do a cover of "Spirit in the Sky", only we change the words to "Ain't gonna disrupt the space between my eyes."

And we're not alone in our decision spotlight one particular Bible verse. Our good friends Christacean (formerly "Young Earth, Wind, & Fire"), with whom we often share a bill at the local fire hall, the occasional barn raising, and our local all-ages club The Corn Hole, have concentrated their considerable artistic efforts on Leviticus 11:9-12.

Both BRAÜ and Christacean would love to perform at the next BattleCry event. If you're interested please email me with the details.

Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski


Spreading the message - the message of BRAÜ
To every child and every hausfrau
To every Fraulein, to the man on the street
We've got to warn everyone that we meet.

You must heed our words, you must understand
The Devil is waiting with tweezers in hand
The space between your eyebrows he wants to claim
He'll pluck you and chuck you and leave you in shame

I want you to shout it - shout it out loud
I will defend the space between my brows
I will defend the space between my brows

The Liberal Media plays you for a fool

They'll try to convince you unibrows just aren't cool
But you'll show them all that you're not dumb
The answer is in Deuteronomy 14:1

Now open your Bibles to Deuteronomy 14:1

I want you to shout it - from the top of the roof
The space between my brows is off-limits to you
The space between my brows is off-limits to you

I want you to shout it - shout it out loud
No one may touch the space between my brows
I will defend the space between my brows

So listen to BRAÜ and here us well
Shaving your eyebrows will lead you to Hell
So don't be deceived by Satan's lies
Don't make any baldness between your eyes

Chorus x3

_ . _

The Latin word of the day is:
nemo -inis - nobody, no one

The ancient Greek word of the day:
hsuxoj - quiet, peaceful

May 14, 2006

And I Saw a Gefilte Fish Rise from the Ocean

"Looked at my watch and it it said 6:66. That's devil cock, baby!" - The Frogs

A few months back I was walking past a herd of mouth-breathers who were protesting outside of my neighborhood Planned Parenthood, when one of the proto-hominids asked me "What if Jesus* had been aborted?" Unknown to this poor, backward idiot, I'd been waiting for years for someone to ask me that question. "What if you're preventing a woman from aborting the Anti-Christ?" I replied. From the puzzled look on the ape's face you'd think I'd put a gun to his head and told him that I'd pull the trigger if he could explain Einstein's Theory of Special Relativity.

And in other Anti-Christ-related news:

Former satirist turned dancing monkey for the Democratic Party Al Franken once asked perennial punch line Jerry Falwell if it was true that Falwell had said that the anti-Christ was currently among us and is Jewish. Falwell nervously explained that since Jesus was Jewish the anti-Christ would be Jewish. Without missing a beat, and much to his credit, Franken then asked "It's not Marvin Hamlisch; is it?" The odd thing (odd even for Falwell) is that the Reverend refused to rule out Hamlisch as a candidate for The Beast, causing Franken to wonder "Why would the anti-Christ write Chorus Line? Why would the anti-Christ write The Way We Were?" I don't know about you, Al, but to me, those seem like exactly the sorts of things the anti-Christ would do.

I mention these incidents of nonbelievers encountering the righteously ill-informed because 06/06/06 is just around the corner and we need to prepare ourselves for the assload of craziness that's going to be riding in its sidecar. If you want to shut you superstitious coworkers' mouths before you have to hear two syllables of "End Times" bullshit there's something you'll need to know, and that something is the identity of the anti-Christ (Since John never uses the term "anti-Christ" in the Book of Revelation - and aren't you sick of people calling it the Book of Revelations - the correct term is really "The Beast.")

And the winner is: Nero Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus. You really wanted it to be Marvin Hamlisch; didn't you? Well, if you're going to read this site, you should learn to get used to being disappointed. So how does the Emperor Nero get to be The Beast? To find out, we'll get to combine two of my favorite pastimes: talking about ancient history and pissing off Fundies.

A little history about Nero.

Born Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus on the 15th of December of 37 CE to Agrippina the Younger and Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus. Lucius would later change his name after his was adopted by his great uncle, the emperor Claudius whom his mother had married and whom she and Nero would later conspire to poison (Agrippina and Nero also murdered Claudius' son Britannicus).

Since Nero was only sixteen when he ascended to the throne, Agrippina acted as his co-regent. This arrangement didn't sit well with Nero who eventfully decided to knock off his own mother, which turned out to be easier said than done. After a failed attempts at poisoning Agrippina and rigging the ceiling of her bedroom to cave-in, Nero hit upon the idea of having a collapsible boat built in which his mother would suffer a "downing accident". It was a brilliant plan: or it would've been, had not the amphibious Agrippina managed to swim to the shore. After this Nero was forced to go old school and have his mother beaten and stabbed to death. Happy Mothers' Day, everybody!

Other highlights of Nero's reign include kicking his wife, Poppaea Sabina, to death, using Christians as human torches with which to light his garden parties, his winning chariot race despite the fact that he fell of his chariot (let's see 'em try that in NASCAR), and the occasional public act of cross-dressing. All-in-all, still a better record than Bush.

Meanwhile, thanks to Nero's incompetence and fondness for executing people, the situation in Rome had grown so desperate that the praetorian prefect, Nymphidius Sabinus, convinced his troops to abandon their allegiance to Nero and the senate condemned the emperor to death by flogging.

Rather than face this ignoble death, Nero committed suicide (actually he had to ask an assistant to help him) on June ninth of 68 CE, just after uttering the famous line "Qualis artifex pereo".

Local boy makes God.

According to Irenaeus, the Book of Revelation was written towards the end of the reign of the Emperor Domitian (roughly 95 CE), during a time of great Roman persecution towards Christians. Since John couldn't title his book "Rome can suck my balls" without getting his head lobbed off, he chose to veil his criticism in the fog of ancient symbolism.

So, if Nero died 68, why isn't Domitian The Beast? Well, it seems that a lot of people during the First Century were certain that Nero was going to stage a huge comeback: from beyond the grave. Booooooooo! This zombie-messiah ideology was propelled by the fact that in the years following Nero's suicide, several pretenders appeared throughout the Empire claiming to be the former Emperor.

So, did John think that Nero would be coming back from the dead? Revelation 13:1 describes The Beast as having seven heads (just as Rome has seven hills): one with a mortal wound that was healed. Many scholars believe that this is an allusion to Nero's impending return from beyond. Since John believed that Jesus had died and returned from the dead, so would it be necessary for John's ant-Christ figure to do the same.

You're still not convinced, are you? Skepticism is a good thing. Here's some more proof:

"Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six." - Revelation 13:18

In both Hebrew and Greek numerical values were assigned to the letters of the alpabet. Making word games from the numerical value of the letters in names was the Dungeons and Dragons of the first century: a pastime for pathetic geeks. In fact, Suetonius passes along this graffito from the time of Nero:

Count the value of the letters in Nero's name and in "Murdered his own mother" you'll find the same.

Here are the values for each letter in the Hebrew spelling of Nero Caesar: nun = 50, resh = 200, waw = 6, nun = 50, quph = 100, samekh = 60, resh = 200. Add 'em up and you get Six hundred threescore and six.

By the way, Nero was also the sixth of the Ceasers

Oddly, third and fourth century versions of the Book of Revelation have been discovered in which the number of The Beast" isn't 666, but 616. There's an alternate Hebrew spelling of Nero Caesar and yes this adds up to 616.

So when June sixth rolls around and your Christian coworkers started bleating about the anti-Christ, calm them down by explaining that it's highly unlikely that Nero Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus probably isn't coming back anytime soon.

PS. Be sure to pick up a copy of the latest issue of Biblical Archaeology. It contains a great article about the "Satan's Throne" which touches heavily on this subject.

* But what would Jesus think about abortion? As a Jew living in the first century of the Common Era, Yoshua ben Yosef (or Pantera) would've believed that infants did not have souls until they were forty days old. In other words, Jesus' opinion about abortion would differ greatly from Operation Rescue's.

The Latin phrase of the day is:
Qualis artifex pereo - What an artist the world loses in me.

May 13, 2006

And the Name of this Movie is LA Nights 2


Finally all Americans have something in common: you, me, the guy who runs the convenience store, the crazy cat lady, Penn Jillette, Rush Limbaugh, Meredith Baxter Birney - all of us. And that great commonality is not that we all share the M168 genetic marker (even though we do), but that we have had our phone calls logged by the NSA for the last five years. And you thought that Bush was whistling out his shop-worn asshole when he said that he was "a uniter not a divider".

There are two overtly obviously scary pieces to this story. The first is that there seems to be a fairly sizable group of fuckwits who seem to pretty OK with anything - and I mean anything - the President does as long as it's done in the name of National Security. If you get caught fucking some guy's wife will polishing off his last six-pack, just tell him that it's all for National Security: odds are that he'll back down. And who knows, maybe when my nine-year-old niece calls to tell me that she got all A's that just might be code for "The jihad of the fourth graders has begun. Soon the streets will run red with the blood of those who refused to take us to the Dairy Queen."

The second disturbing element is just how much abuse of our basic Civil Rights we, the American public, are willing to endure. Why aren't we marching on the White House demanding an explanation for this shit? If we had the technology to organize those moronic "flash mob" gatherings - enabling two hundred bored trust fund brats to gather in a Starbucks and then disperse - or get every maid and gardener in the country to participate in a series of nationwide demonstrations for "A Day without the Cast of Caliente", then why the fuck can't those of us who've had enough of the wiretapping, the faith-based science, and a foreign policy that seems to have been drafted with a crayon during a bumpy ride on a short, yellow bus surround Washington and, in unison, scream "Enough!"

Until some American Lech Walesa steps forward and cries out "follow me over the fence, folks" will all have live vicariously though my tiny plastic Roman army.


Tomorrow, I'll reveal the identity of the Antichrist. By the way, I just got my results in from the Genographic Project. Those of you who guessed "R1b (M343) Haplogroup" were correct! For those of you who guessed "some sort of goddamn Jew", better luck next time.

The Latin word of the day is:
vertere - to turn

The ancient Greek word of the day:
wdinw - to labor

May 11, 2006

Aid or Invade IV


The latest Aid or Invade has been published/posted. If you can tear yourselves away from your bongs long enough to look at the bottom of the piece (and squint) you'll notice the URL for this very website. Golly, I sure am glad, now that plenty of folks may be checking this digital train wreck out for the first time, that I went with that Facts of Life/Fisting piece yesterday. Hello and goodbye, new readers.

"Scripture also says 'Render unto Caesar what Caesar demands.' And right now, Caesar demands a building permit," - County Commission Chairman Mike Whitehead

While we're on the subject of tragedies, Dinosaur Adventure Land is no more (since it was a shithole to begin with, it's also no less). Those of you who are unfamiliar with Dinosaur Adventure Land are probably also unfamiliar with searing migraines and troubling dreams of a once-great nation now completely owned and operated by village idiots; so you may want to skip the rest of this piece. The rest of you may remember Dinosaur Adventure Land as the creationist theme park (AKA "Some Fundie's backyard") scratched out of the soil by Kent "Dr. Dino" Hovind, former science teacher-turned-minister-turned-defendant in a felony assault/battery/burglary with assault or battery case (Evolution in reverse). While nearby Disney World may be able to boast about Space Mountain and The Haunted Mansion, only Dinosaur Adventure Land had exclusive bragging right s to "Jumpasaurus": a trampoline on which kids bounce while trying to throw a ball through a hoop and "the Nerve-Wracking Ball": a bowling ball suspended from a rope tied to a tree branch*.

Now that Dinosaur Adventure Land has closed its doors, those of us wishing for a completely brain-free experience will have to wait until the talking turds at AiG complete their Creation Museum.

* What fun is a bowling ball tied to a rope? Not much. It's even less fun when a child is made to test their "faith in God's laws" by standing behind the ball while a park guide gives it a healthy push so that the ball sails off and comes back only a few inches from the child's face. The kid "wins" if he or she doesn't flinch or shit their pants. Yay America; yay us!

The Latin word of the day is:
invadere - to invade

The ancient Greek word of the day:
anohtoj - foolish

May 10, 2006

Blair's Hair Appears on the Air

ghayden.jpgGodmotherfuckingshitdamnit! I really screwed up this time. Monday night I was too tired to check my email (or, for that matter post Monday's Fundie Funny). Well, I regret the decision to head off to bed early for the rest of my life because...well, since there's no delicate way to break this news to you, so I'm just going to come right out with it:

Monday night Blair sent out her first communiqué in months. Now, under normal circumstances, I could've waited a few days to drop Blair's steaming pile of narcissism before your eyes; unfortunately, this email contained some time-sensitive (as well as lab monkey crazy) material. So I resolved to post it last night: after a short nap and well... you can figure out how that worked out. Forgive me... and put on your HazMat suits because Blair is about to speak:

I know, this E-Blast isn't as pretty as my new and improved E-letter ["new and improved E-letter"??? What the fuck is Blair talking about? If there's a "new and improved E-letter", then why aren't I getting it?] but I wanted to get something to you fast! I'm flying to New York today [on a broomstick] to meet up with "Jo" and "Natalie." [Sweet Primetime Christ! Blair has finally lost it; she thinks Jo and Natalie are real people] Okay, I mean, Nancy McKeon and Mindy Cohn [Nevermind]. I am SOOOOO excited. I miss them very much. ["...but with a little more practice at the shooting range..."] I'm so bummed that Kim Fields won't be joining us. She must be in a play or something [Maybe she's found the last shred of her dignity] because she is usually cool ["That's Negro-speak for 'OK'"] about all the oldie-goldie stuff [Is Blair talking about weed?]. I'll find out the scoop and write about it in next week's journal entry ["located in the enchanted forrest in my mind"].

Just in case you want to tune in, or set your Tivos [You taped over The Sopranos with WHAT???]. Here's the publicity schedule for the release of Seasons One and Two of "The Facts of Life" on DVD. (Check local times and listings)

[At this point Blair lists a bunch of shitty programs (Total moron fodder like Fox & Friends and Access Hollywood) on which she appeared on the 9th and the 10th. I'd reprint them, but it would only make you weep over missing Blair publicity tour. One show of note, however, was Frank DeCaro Show on $irius $atellite Radio. Frank DeCaro? Frank "Out at the Movies" DeCaro? Gay Frank DeCaro? Did born-again Blair realize that she would be sharing the mic with a man so flaming that he refers to Truman Capote as "that Breeder"? Maybe DeCaro thought that Blair was coming by to plug an instructional Fisting DVD*. ]

Doesn't this sound like fun? [That's a trick question, right?] I promise to take lots of pictures to post in next week's journal entry. By the way, Sony sent me a copy of the DVD and it is fabulous [Sony sent her a copy? One single copy. ]. The best part, in my opinion, is the interviews before and after the shows [I guess security at those supermax prisons ain't what it used to be.]. It is fun to see how everyone looks today [The FATS of Life] and hear their memories of the show. If you want to reserve your copy of the DVD to be sent out the moment it is released (May 9th) then the link below that will take you to where I've provided a link from my website.

buy shit

Remember, the facts of life are all about You - You-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! [I swear to fuck, that's how she signed off: "You-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!". And thus a RATYHTL catchphrase was born]

* That got me thinking: with today's digital technology, would it be possible to alter the episodes so they all revolved around… oh, let's say "Fisting". I'm about to work beyond "blue" folks, so get ready for some Junior High humor:

Episode: Putting the "F" back in Fist.
Synopsis: Jo is shocked to learn that she's failing Sex Ed. But not as shocked as Blair when Jo asks for her help "cramming" late into the night.

Episode: RinGoo
Synopsis: Tootie "borrows" and then "misplaces" Mrs. Garret's prize possession - her Grandmother's ring". Can Natalie's gynecologist (guest star Howie Mandel) save the day before Edna gets back from wherever the fuck old people go?

Episode: Look Ma', No Cavities (Left Unexplored)
Synopsis: Natalie is thrilled about the prospect of her favorite playing the Prom - until she gets stood up. Special guess stars Color Me Bad stop by to teach an important lesson about "accepting things... accepting them deep inside you."

The Latin word of the day is:
tegere - to coverl

The ancient Greek word of the day:
eutuxia - good fortune

May 06, 2006

Would Ya' Look at the Childbearing Hips on that Narwhal


To be honest (Well, to be as honest as I can be: which is somewhere between "Honest Abe" Lincoln and "Total fuckin' Liar Henry" Kissinger) when I read Answers in Genesis' reply to Fongo's email, I was tempted to tell Fongo not to reply back. After all, the folks at AiG had either been extremely nice to someone who was obviously blowing smoke up their Fundieholes, or they were too stupid to recognize a poke in the ribs from the pointy, dung-covered stick of sarcasm. And, after all, what harm are they really doing?

Yes. What harm are they really doing?

If someone wants to believe that the Earth is 6,000 years old and was once entirely coved by a massive flood that was only survived by a single family had found room for either two (Genesis 6:19-20) or seven (Genesis 7:2-3) of every animal, including dinosaurs, on their houseboat I really couldn't give an Intelligently Designed shit. But once someone tries to push this sort of nonsense into the fragile minds of children, that, to me, is a form of child abuse. And it's the worst form of child abuse, because it's the kind that could potentially affect me. Somewhere out there is a little kid who might, one day, become a biologist and find the cure for cancer…unless, of course, he's alienated from the natural sciences by being brainwashed into believing that Evolution is a satanic plot.… and I think of the number of years that she's going to have to carry in their memory... the savagery of this idiotic moment of yours... I just go BERSERK!

Every minute the snake-handlers at AiG spend reading one of Fongo's emails is one less minute they can spend lowering some little kid's IQ.

Fongo, ol' buddy, let 'er rip!


Thank you for your prompt response. I'm really sorry if in my original email I implied that agents of the Antichrist might have infiltrated your fine organization. It's just that sometimes I get so consumed with the Word of the Lord that I need to keep a moist towelette handy.

As for evidence with which to back up my theory, well, that would depend on your definitions of "theory" and "evidence" (as well as the words "definition" and "and", I suppose). If you define a "theory" as an explanation based on observation, experimentation, and reasoning and "evidence" as that which tends to furnish proof, then I may have to get back to you at a latter date. Personally I've never cottoned to those East coast Liberal college-boy definitions for "theory", "evidence", "stalking", or "reasonable hygiene". And, trust me; I know a thing or two about what colleges can do to a man. My cousin Dexter used to live in a shed behind my Aunt's place and never missed church on Sunday (or Friday night if he felt guilty about having suffered a "relapse" during the week and my Aunt got a call about him looking in windows). Long-story-short: Dexter inherited a petting-zoo not too far from the interstate. Well, no sooner does Dexter get ready to move in and set up shop than nosey ol' lady Risby takes him a side and says "Now that you're a proper business man, you outta take some Marketing courses over at the Junior college" and then she started giving him a hard time about being on her property late at night with a stepladder under his arm. Now, as anyone 'round these parts'll tell you (when they're not out hunting for stump water: but don't get me started on that), Dexter is a might impressionable. We've had to lower him a rope on more than one occasion thanks to a certain nursery rhyme that begins with "Ding. Dong. Dell". So Dexter goes off to the Junior college and gets his head filled full of fancy ideas about "demographics", "focus groups" and the importance of leaving road kill where it is. The upshot being that Dexter decided that the petting-zoo should only feature large barnyard animals and should be re-christened as "Heavy Petting". Well, Dexter got a crowd all right: the wrong crowd (Can you believe that someone actually makes leather chaps that fit a 62 inch waistline?). Needless to say, charges were filed.

That's why I define a "theory" as a pretty smart idea that in NO WAY contradicts the Holy Scriptures and "evidence" as what my minister tells me is true. In an effort to clarify my position, please allow me to offer a few examples:

Theory: Stump water cures the Vapors.
On the surface this seems like pretty sound thinking (as we all know that stump water can ward off the heebie jeebies), and it certainly doesn't conflict with anything in the Bible.

Evidence: Only wearing a dead cat around your neck on a greasy string can cure the Vapors.
This is, of course, what my minister told me.

Theory: The Earth orbits the Sun.
No need to stop by Miss Ellie's house (where the minister is often doing the Lord's work late into the night) to check on this one, as it clearly contradicts Psalms 104:5, Jeremiah 31:37, and Ecclesiastes 1:5. And no picture from any Liberal Elite Space Station is gonna make me think otherwise. Is it any coincidence that the first astronaut was a Godless Commie?

Theory: Just because whales have vestigial pelvic bones, femora, and olfactory nerves, that does not mean they evolved from land dwelling animals.

This is a great theory! Not only does it not contradict the Good Book, and have the blessing of my minister (evidence!), but it has also been prominently featured on the Answers in Genesis website. *

Of course, there are some obviously misguided individuals who might point out that the evolution of the whale - from Sinonyx (a wolf-sized, four-limbed mamal), through Pakicetus, Ambulocetus, Rodhocetus, and Basilosaurus all the way to Dorudon (a fully aquatic whale) - is clearly visible from the fossil record. But I say "Clearly visible to whom?" No doubt the same sort of uppity Darwinists who point out that studies of myoglobin, lens alpha-crystallin A, and cytochrome c in forty-six different species of mammals (Later expanded to iincluding alpha- and beta- hemoglobins and ribonuclease in seventy-two species of mammals) conclusively proved that whales are included among the ungulates; that's whom!

Now, as for shaving between your eyebrows, I say that a rule's a rule. If you spot someone who's shaved their eyebrows, how can you be certain (especially in these uncertain times) that they didn't do it to mourn the dead? What if it becomes a fad among young people: like hoola-hoops, Rock 'n' Roll, nose-piercings, or hoping about on one foot while loudly denouncing Tony Danza?

Are you willing to take that risk? For the love of God, keep watching the space between the eyes! Keep watching the space between the eyes!

* Not that I think we really need a rebuttal to AiG's patented brand of bullshit, but here's a lovely backhanded bitch-slap of AiG's Fundie Fact Fudging about whales. Enjoy

The Latin word of the day is:
fortis, -e -strong, brave

The ancient Greek word of the day:
eudaimonizw - considers happy

May 04, 2006

Dear Christ!


Man-oh-mayonnaise, did you pick a good time to check this blog. Do you remember a when you were a kid and you'd send away for some Sea Monkeys or X-Ray Specs? Can you still recall the overwhelming sense of anticipation as, each day, you checked your mailbox? Well, that's how life has been for the past few days for RATYHTL's Man-on-the-street (and in the gutter) Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski as he constantly checked his email account for a reply to theletterhe recently sent to simple folk at Answers in Genesis.

Let the waiting end! I'm happy to announce that Fongo's sense of emotional constipation has been relieved by the soothing warm flow of the words you, gentle reader, are about to gently read:

Dear Jerry,

Thank you for contacting Answers in Genesis. That's an interesting theory, do you have any evidence to back it up? [Um...I don't wanna bring the crowd at AiG down, but if I was running around telling people that the Earth is only 6,000 years old and humans coexisted with dinosaurs, I sure-as-shittin' wouldn't be staring any communication with the words "theory" and "evidence".] Is there by chance an evolutionists who has admitted to such a thing? Although honestly I doubt most evolutionists know that that is a verse in the Bible [That's an interesting theory, I wonder if he has any evidence to back it up?]. Also, let's look [down our noses] at the verse in its full context:

Deuteronomy 14:1-2 Ye [are] the children of the LORD your God: ye shall not cut yourselves, nor make any baldness between your eyes for the dead. For thou [art] an holy people unto the LORD thy God, and the LORD hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people [you said it] unto himself, above all the nations that [are] upon the earth.

Other nations of that time were shaving between their eyebrows in commemoration or worship of the dead. The Israelites were to stay away from all such pagan practices. Today, people may still do this, but I do not know of anyone who does [you should get out more often]. Also, it is very unlikely that anyone today trims their eyebrows for the dead [or shaves their crotch for the comatose]. As Paul [Kircher] wrote:

Romans 7:4-6 Wherefore, my brethren, ye also are become dead to the law by the body of Christ; that ye should be married to another [Dude, sick], even to him who is raised from the dead, that we should bring forth fruit unto God [Eeeeuuuu]. For when we were in the flesh, the motions of sins, which were by the law, did work in our members [huh, huh] to bring forth fruit unto death. But now we are delivered from the law, that being dead wherein we were held; that we should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter.

I pray this is helpful [Oh, it has been!]. Have a great day and God bless.

In His name and for His glory,


Tune in tomorrow for Fongo's rather lengthy and rambling reply. Yeah, I know it's wrong of me to make you wait. OK, so you don't feel cheated like you did when you finally got your Sea Monkeys and X-Ray Specs, here's AiG's Fundie Funny and in this corner is RATYHTL's shameless parody.

The Latin word of the day is:
tandem - finally, at last

The ancient Greek word of the day:
talaipwria - hardship

May 03, 2006

The Truthiness Shall Set You Free.

koola1.jpgI wasn't there, but this is the way I heard the story:

Nearly a quarter-of-a-century ago in the magical land of Bala Cynwd, Pennsylvania, a local "progressive rock" ("You can learn a lot if you listen to YES: subjects taken from literature's best. Progressive rock. Progressive rock. Don't it suck? Don't it? Don't it really suck?" - The Gizmos) station decided to sponsor a contest to find the best guitarist in the Delaware Valley. It took a month or two but eventually the field was narrowed down to a showdown between two champions: The favorite - a guy with a huge management team and a pending record deal and the underdog - Rich for the Philly punk band Decontrol, one of the most gifted guitarist I've ever seen... and I've seen 'em all.

Of course, everybody new that the outcome had already been decided before the contest was announced and it was a testament to Rich's musical ability that the powers-that-be allowed him to make it as far as he did. On the day of the "big showdown" Rich walked into the music store were the contest was being held carrying a $15 Sears guitar that he had fished out of a trash can a week or so earlier. Stepped in front of the judges, plugged in the Japanese guitar, and proceeded to launch into what I have been told was some of the most amazing acoustic acrobatics ever witnessed. For twenty minutes he played the Hell outta that cheap guitar, making it sound like it had been custom built for his hands at the estimated combined cost of the Gross National Products of the industrialized countries of the world.

And then he began to tear the guitar apart: at first with only his hands (until they became too covered in blood for him to get a proper grip), then with his teeth. When he had killed the guitar, he stood up, gave the finger to the judges, and walked out the door an into legend.

At least that's the way I heard it.

I wasn't there, but this is the way I heard the story:

Steven Colbert bombed at the White House Correspondent Dinner. His timing was off and his delivery was bad Some news outlets chose to altogether ignore the fact that Colbert even appeared at the event and instead focus on the groundbreaking comedy of the opening act: a Bush impersonator. To top it all off, it seems that Colbert was also so durn unAmerican that future 'Tard Write Zone Hall of Flamer Tom Wegmann of Seattle was forced to scrawl the following in the dirt with his dog's penis:

I watched the whole show and I was deeply offended for my country, the President and the military. Stephen Colbert proved beyond a doubt that liberals are worthless human beings, a danger to all of our freedom and lack any sense of decency. Their contributions and value to the country are nil.

Colbert, not funny? This couldn't be. Confused and bleeding from the ears, I decided to check out the video of Colbert's performance for myself. I have now come to the conclusion that those reporters who panned Steven's performance are no doubt the same sort of shitheels who laugh themselves stupid at Mark Russell's tired schtick.

Not only was Colbert very funny ("I believe the government that governs best is the government that governs least. And by these standards, we have set up a fabulous government in Iraq.") but he may have invented a new form of punk rock comedy. It's like Colbert spent his entire life preparing for the day when he would perform in front of a dysfunctional President. Instead of kissing the guy's ass like so many others before him have done, Colbert flipped him off and then walked out the door and into legend.

Speaking of balls...

Congratulations to the jury in the Zacarias Moussaoui to do the correct and sure-to-be unpopular, thing and sentence the terror-turd to life. Sure, Moussaoui's a scum-sucking puppy rapist but he's a scum-sucking puppy rapist who's so detached from reality that even al Qeada attempted to distance themselves from him. The guy wanted to die so he could have one last shot at being a martyr and now that's been denied to him. It almost restores your faith in the legal system.

The Latin word of the day is:
vero - in truth, truthiness

The ancient Greek word of the day:
parexw - to provide

May 02, 2006



Dear readers,
Please forgive Rodney for being absent yesterday. He was putting the finishing touches on the latest Aid or Invade.

- Epstein's mother

Every once-in-a-while some organization releases a study gauging the lack of knowledge of Americans on one subject or another. For as far back as I can remember, these studies have never been good news.

So, it is with a great sense of consistency (and with gritted teeth) that I bring you the results of the National Geographic-Roper Public Affairs 2006 Geographic Literacy Study. Of the 510 18 to 24 year-olds questioned…

60% could not find Iraq on a map of the Middle East.

Almost 75% wrongly named English as the most widely spoken native language.

30% thought the most heavily fortified border was between the United States and Mexico.

47% could not find the Indian subcontinent on a map of Asia.

Less than 30% think it's important to know the locations of countries in the news.

Only 14 % believe speaking another language is a necessary skill.

33% couldn't pinpoint Louisiana on a map.

Only 50% of the young men and 43% women could identify the states of New York or Ohio on a map.

88 % could not find Afghanistan on a map of Asia.

If you're like me (then you can walk into any book with your toy pal, Pokey, too) then your first reaction was probably to slap your forehead and say "What a bunch of fucking morons." And you're right: we are a bunch of fucking morons.

That's right; I said "we", not "they". These young people didn't get that stupid overnight. And they certainly didn't get that stupid by accident. A nation has to work really, really hard to produce an entire generation that, when shown a map of the world, immediately attempt to wipe their asses with it.

These kids might be a bunch of stupid little shits, but they're our stupid little shits and we've failed them miserably. We've let our public schools turn into diploma mills and allowed a society to bloom in which being wee-read is tantamount to being a child molester.

So while you're laughing at these ass-faced idiots, remember that when you and I are in the old folks home, these proto-humans will be charged with making sure we get the right doses of our medication.

We are fucking doomed.

The Latin word of the day is:
locus -i - place, passage in literature

The ancient Greek words of the day:
en orgh exie - has in anger / is angry with