Thoughtless for the Day

Yeah, I disappeared again; but this time I have a really good excuse. Not to mention a really long story:

On Thursday afternoon I was driving North on I-95 on my way hope from work and I was feeling great. I had arranged to take Friday off and was planning on catching up on my blogging and doing some more work on my tiny plastic Roman army: and then the engine of my vintage 1989 Geo Spectrum simply stopped running.

It was a good thing that I was going roughly 85 mph, as this gave my Chevy enough momentum to allow me to make it to the side of the highway. Now, the total sum of my knowledge of automobiles is so small that could almost squeeze into Rick Santorum's jockstrap, but there is one problem I am able to diagnose: when a timing belt has been called home by the holy trilogy of Manny, Moe, and Jack*. No problem; I have Triple A Plus. They'll tow my sorrow ass to Hong Kong and back for free. I'll just whip out my cell phone and…oh, when did the battery on my Nokia die? Maybe my phone's grief over the sudden death of the timing belt was too much for it to bear? No problem; there are signs for gas stations and fast food joints clearly visible in the distance. I'll just walk cross over…OK, when did I-95 get jammed with traffic? Not more than fifteen minutes ago my fellow travelers and I were gleefully surpassing the speed limit. Now the cars are still moving, although much slower than before, but there's no space between them: at least not enough to allow me to sprint across six lanes of traffic.

Fortunately I'd walked some distance from my car. Why was this fortunate? Because I have a metallic fish on the back of my car; however, unlike most metallic fish on the back cars, my fish has legs and it doesn't have the name "Jesus" written inside it: written inside my fish is the name "Darwin". Now, most of the time, a Darwin fish is a pretty nice thing to have on the back of your car, as it doesn't slow you down or decrease your gas milage while simutaniusly allowing you to feel smugly superiour to the superstitious morons changing lanes all around you. "Ha, ha. Nice 'Abortion stops a beating hear' bumper sticker, assmonkey", you think, "what the fuck was it that stopped your brain?"

The only time when a Darwin fish seems to be an actual hindrance would to appear to be when a car sporting one breaks down. It's been my experience that when a car (or, more often, a mini-van) with a Jesus fish on the back breaks down, the number of the drivers fellow Christians who pull to the side of the road to assist are legion. While I've never actually seen a car with a Darwin fish broken down by the side of the highway (other than my own), this only heightened my apprehension, as these cars are no doubt rapidly set upon by thongs of rabid Theists who drag them into the woods and burn them (along with their drivers) as heretics.

But, as I said, I was far enough away from my car that and conditional Samaritan good easily mistake my Darwin fish for that other kind. Now I just needed to look the part of a stranded Believer, so I buttoned the top button on my shirt and began to loudly describe the many delicious ways in which shrimp may be prepared to no one in particular. I hadn't even made it to Shrimp Ala Mode before someone pulled up and offered their assistance.

If this were being written to appear in the Letters section of Penthouse, that someone would've been a van filled with college cheerleaders. As it was, that someone turned out to be the old lady who lived in the trailer park from the Blair Witch. Gentle reader, I know that I am often accused of exaggeration. That's why I implore you to believe what I'm about to tell you:

One of those cars that eerily resemble a Ford Pinto, tastefully painted in several shades of primer grey and driven by the aforementioned trailer park woman from the Blair Witch, pulls up. The Blair Witch woman kindly asks it there's anything she can do to help. Resisting the urge to say "Why yes; would you happen to know the whereabouts of three campers who were making a student film in the woods?" I ask if I can borrow her cell phone which see readily offers. I was reaching in her passenger side window when I heard the growling. While the sight of a pure black hound dog curled up on the floor of the back seat of the car was rather unsettling, it hardly prepared me for the object adjacent to the animal: a bundle of sticks!

Moving right along: I called Vienna and told her where I was and asked her to call Triple A. I then thanked the lady from the Blair Witch and walked back to my car and settled in to wait for the tow truck. That's when it occurred to me that I might be waiting for a while so it might be a good idea to walk over to the bushes and empty my bladder [Helpful hint: Always check the area first for signs of Neil Patrick Harris]. Normally I would refrain for discussing my bodily functions, but this episode has great bearing on the rest of the story. As I was exiting the underbrush ("Still shaking the bushes, boss.") a mini-van pulled up behind mine. The driver stuck his head out the window and hollered, "Say there; need any help? I noticed your Jesus fish and…hey; wait a minute! That dunna say 'Jesus'! Why, that says…Da…Dar…Dara…Well, whatever it says, it dunna say 'Jesus'".

Next, as if on cue a Cadillac, steam billowing from under its hoods, it's bumper covered with "Jesus Saves" stickers pulls up about ten yards ahead of my abominationmobile. The guy in the mini-van leaps out and runs around my car and heads straight for the Caddy. With a shrug of my shoulders, I follow behind.

As it turned out, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, and El Renaldo Hubbardo (The Mexican L. Ron Hubbard) all praying together couldn't have gotten that Cadillac moving again. "Look," I say to the ice wagon's driver "I'm waiting on Triple A. Maybe they can help you out when they get here."

"I don't think so", says the elderly man behind the wheel, "I don't have Triple A. Heck, I don't even have insurance on this thing." Later, when a State Trooper stops by to check out the situation, the old gentleman in the Cadillac repeats this line.

Fast Forward: Triple A tows me back to Philly and drops my car outside the garage. When I finally get home I make a dash for the shower where I discover that my short trip to the bushes has left three ticks on my body. Great. Now I have no car and Spotted Lyme Disease Syndome. "At least things can't get any worse," I thought. And then I noticed the rashes from the Poison Ivy.

So, instead of spending my three-day weekend relaxing and catching up some projects, I spent it confined to bed and grumbling about all of the things I could be accomplishing if I didn't currently resemble a resident of Molokai.

It would've been the worst weekend ever had not Mel Gibson been arrested on Friday night and charged with drunk driving. Immediately upon hearing the news I turned to Vienna and said "I wonder if he started shouting some crazy shit about the Jews?" As it turned out, despite what appears to be the best efforts of the LACounty Sheriff's department to gloss over the incident, Mad Mel did, indeed shout some crazy shit about the Jews (and picked up bonus crazy points by screaming "What do you think you're looking at, sugar tits?" to a woman cop). It's not that I'm psychic; it's just that I've always been able to spot a scum-sucking Jew-hater at a thousand paces, and I had Mel Gibson pegged from Day One. I always knew, and maybe you did too, that one day Gibson would be standing in a police station babbling on about how "the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world."

Every war, Mel? If only Homer had known.

I'm gonna seize the moment and put all anti-Semetic shitbags on notice. That means you, Mel, your fucknuts father, and especially you Delaware's Indian River School District.

What the fuck am I talking about? I'm too pissed off to go into the details, so do me a favor and read this piece or this one (which contains a Borat reference. If Mel Gibson would've watched the Ali G. Show he would've known how to protect himself from the Jew when he comes at you with his claws) and ask yourself how these hateful dirtfuckers have been allowed to get away with this shit for so long.

* Emanuel "Manny" Rosenfeld, Maurice "Moe" Strauss, Moe Radavitz and Graham "Jack" Jackson? Holy shit! Two-thirds of the Pep Boys were part of the International Jewboy Conspiracy!

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 09:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

From our new buddy Jack Tapper (not to be confused with Jack Tripper) we learn that almost-life-like White House spokesghoul Tony Snow(flake child) has rescinded his earlier statement that embryonic stem cell research is the equivalent of murder (see yesterday's post)

Oddly, that's the second most interesting thing on Jack the Tapper's site. Coming in at number one is this piece about Snowflake Children in which we learn, among other disturbing things, that if you're gonna make a Snowflake Baby you're gonna have to break a few embryos:

"'Typically when we transfer or thaw the embryos, about half of them survive thawing,' Stoddart reports. 'Of those that survive, about a third result in a birth.' Two-thirds of the embryos that survive thawing don't become a baby either because of miscarriage or failure to implant in the adoptive mother's uterus."

King Me!

By now you've no doubt read all about the American Bar Association's criticism of Bush's abuse of presidential signing statements. What a bunch of gawddamn candy-assed pansies the ABA have become. Personally, I say "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Every time the President does something half-assed we, the American public, should issue a signing statement declaring our intentions to ignore him. For example, when Bush vetoed expansion of stem cell research we should've simply issues a statement reading: "As, throughout his entire life, our President has never show any intellectual curiosity, we find it impossible to trust him on matters of a scientific nature (please see also our signing statement regarding our President's misguided belief that evolution is 'just a theory'.). Therefore we declare his veto to be null and void: break out those Petri dishes, boys!"

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 07:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Our Libertarian friends over at Reason (in the interest of balance, I should point out that there's an excellent piece over at CounterPunch in which Ralph Nader offers George Bush six measures to help end the current crisis in the Middle East without ever once telling the Commander-in-Chief to pull his head outta his own goddamn ass) link to a heartwarming tale of one grammatically-challenged family's attempt to rid their neighborhood of a giant, rock-throwing, retarded child (the first person who posts "take him to the zoo" in the comments section will be banned from RATYHTL for life. Speaking of comment sections, the one for this story on the Reason site is a comedy goldmine as is the comments section for the original piece.).

Caution Retarded Flip-Flopper Ahead

On Sunday's edition of On The Media, guest Jake Tapper of ABC news pointed an interesting contradiction in the Bush Administration's statements regarding the President's policy on embryonic stem cell research. Here's creepy Frankin-Spokesman Tony Snow on the day that Bush veto a bill expanding stem cell reseach:

"The president believes strongly that for the purpose of research it's inappropriate for the federal government to finance something that many people consider murder. He's one of them. ... He thinks murder's wrong."

Now, here's a White House document from 2001:

"President Bush Is The First President To Ever Fund Embryonic Stem Cell Research... President Bush's Stem Cell Policy Has Made Federally Funded Stem Cell Lines Widely Available To Scientists."

George Bush: Friend to the Scientific Community or History's Biggest Baby Butcher. You decide.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 07:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Ya' know, sometimes I actually feel kinda bad about picking on Blair. I mean, it's not like she's one of those Christians who spend their free time spreading the joyous news that God hates fags. In fact, apart from the occasional hot sauce incident or poop-filled brownie rant (they don't call 'em brownies for nuttin'), Blair actually rather harmless. Shit Luther, I'm even willing to wager that Blair's kids are a whole lot less fucked up than I was at their age (OK, Drew Barrymore was less screwed up at fourteen than I was). My point is that Blair isn't really a bad person. She's just trying to raise her family and help those around her the only way she knows. I guess the worst thing you could say about Blair is that she's more than a little misguided. We here at RATYHTL love you, Blair and we're very, very sorry that we've made fun of you in the past. We promise never to do it again. Please enjoy this picture of a sunrise.

OK. Did Blair's lawyer click off the site yet? Good. Now let's rip that crazy bitch a new asshole:

Blair's Hair Ensnares Unaware Prickly Bear

Come
See Me!

August 18-19
Tyler, TX- (MomTime Getaway)

August 25-26
Hattiesburg, MS

September 8-9
Lynchburg, VA

September 15-16
Edmond, OK

September 29-30
Monroe, MI
(MomTime Getaway)

For more information on times and locations click here!

I love summer! I love the opportunities it brings. Camps, long, lazy days, family vacations, and afternoons for cleaning out the garage and closets. Summer is the busiest time and the slowest time of the year for our family [OK, which is it? Is it your family's busiest time or is it your family's slowest time. Dickens could get away with "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". I knew Charles Dickens; I worked with Charles Dickens. You, Senator, are no Charles Dickens!]. I like that. My children have attended quite a few different church camps this summer, either as campers or counselors [Blair should send her kids to this camp.]. While they are busy, I've been busy writing my new [S]crapbook Bible Study. Then there are days when we all sleep in, scrounge around in the fridge for food[I don't think Blair's been limiting her scrounging to just her 'frige. Looks like she's been dumpster diving and checking the traps out back as well.], tackle a summer project and then lay around on the Lazyboy couch watching the last season of "24" together. (All indoors, of course, since it is July in Texas! [Of course. Who the fuck drags their Lazyboy, tv, and DVD player outside?]) I sure hope you are finding a handful of days to get those summer projects finished and even more days doing absolutely! nothing. [And I sure hope that someday, Blair, you'll catch a fucking clue as to how the average person lives. My summer project is to stay employed and save up some money for when my contract ends in two years. This often means one or two sixteen-hour workdays a week.]

Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain[Whatever].

It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. (Psalm 127:1-3 ESV) ["... children are a heritage from the LORD"? OK, maybe. The again, maybe not.]

While doing some research for the [S]crapbooking Bible Study I am writing, I discovered that in the original [Jewy] languages of the Bible, the idea of "family" is more often translated as "house" or "household." I was actually studying this passage in Psalms at the time, so I re-read these verses with this in mind. I was sorely convicted.

Now first, as a last-ditch attempt at rationalization and justification, let me just say that it is my opinion that "controlling women" get a bad rap [Hey, they used to get burned at the stake]. We control so much because we care so much! ["Sure I bitch, harp, and work your last nerve; but that's only because I love you"] And, if we don't take care of things, who will? Right? Well, not exactly. God cares so much, too. And, He's actually capable of really taking care of things. That's why this verse is such a comfort to me. ["Finish your meatloaf, Billy. God will put that fire out."]

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for intentional parenting, persevering prayer, and the blessed benefits of a good, long lecture [As well as the proven persuasive power of scratchy undergarments], but I'm also learning, and relearning, that the building up of my family is, ultimately, not going to be a result of my marvelous mothering [Blair, if your kids don't end up as a roving band of knife-wielding serial killers, it'll be in spite of your parenting and not because of it.]. Thankfully, by that same token, if I can't take the glory, I can't be burdened down by guilt when I'm a less than marvelous mother.(Like just last week when I really blew up and blew it.) [That's it? We never get to find out what set Blair off or the seedy details of her meltdown? Ripoff! Readers are strongly encouraged to send in their versions of Blair's Big Blow UP to this web site]

If my children grow up and choose to follow Jesus, it won't be because I woke up early every morning to pray for them, or stayed up late at night to provide a "perfect" home for them [Or because they suffered brain trauma.]. It is vanity to think that I can be a good enough mother to guarantee my family will stand strong in the midst of life's storms or a very attractive and alluring world.

Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal something you are doing in your own strength for your family that is really more based in the idea of hard work than in peace-filled trust.[Bullshit. I'm asking the Holy Spirit for a pony. If He can't produce one by Thursday then He doesn't exist] Take a moment to "roll off this burden" onto the Lord. For me, I had to stop praying so much. I know that sounds heretical [Burn the heretic!], but I realized that every time I became anxious and fearful I prayed the same prayers over and over again. The Lord showed me that I was actually putting faith in my prayers rather than in His promise to hear my prayers and answer them - in His timing and in His way! What are you attempting to build in your own strength? [translation: Blair kept praying for something that didn't happen. Why didn't God grant her wishes? Because she kept bugging him with all of her prayers. What kind of shitty deity is that? "Yeah, I'll cure your cancer - when I'm good and ready, OK? Now, if you don't mind, I've got Angelina Jolie on the other line."]

I've been looking forward to this day for years - "< a href="http://www.creativecorrection.com/">Creative Correction" has been released in Spanish!!!!! [A brilliant marketing decision, as those Beaners are bound to have plenty of Tabasco sauce on hand.] I'm so excited. Beginning with this E-letter I've decided to combine the "Snippets and Smidgens" with the "E-letter Specials." And this month, I'm offering a crazy special![Yep, "crazy" pretty much sums it up.] Because I am so eager to get this resource into the Latin Community I'm offering this book, for this month only, for $5.00! [That's great news for members of MS13 who might've been worried that they'd have to "move some extra product" this month in order to afford a copy of Creative Correction] That is way less than we pay to buy it from the publisher but, hey, that's why they call it ministry, isn't it. So, if you know a Spanish-speaking family or congregation [No way. Those people give me the willies.]who could use some encouragement through practical discipline tips, then click on! the book for a description in Spanish and to receive this month's E-letter special.

Click on the book cover to find out more or Click Here!

A Bride Most Begrudging - I love to read and Christian fiction [Or as we Atheists like to call it: "The New Testament"] is my favorite. I was so delighted to discover a new author that I know you're going to adore. Her name is Deeann Gist [Actually, her name is Deeanne, with an "e" Gist] and I actually met her in Houston when I spoke at her church while we were traveling in the RV on the Family Dream. Deeann[e] received the very prestigious "Christy Award" [No, the award is not named after Agatha Christie. It's named after Christ, but with a "y" tacked on to make up for the "e' Blair left out of Deeanne] last week at the Christian Booksellers Convention.

www.spiritofelijiah.com [Actually, that's www.spiritofelijah.com. Problem dyslexia could have Blari? ] - I recently attended a workshop entitled, "Moms of Teenage Sons" by Norm Wakefield. It changed my life. I learned that I've been doing it all wrong these last couple of years with Tucker!. I really MUST stop treating him like he is still my little boy now that he is a young man! [You might also want to stop forcing him to wear that dress] If you have a son,10-years-old or older, I can't encourage you enough to click on this link, check out all of the amazing resources, but especially this particular message.

The Newsboys - Tucker is currently on tour as an assistant guitar tech/roadie/little buddy [/trim coordinator]for "The Newsboys." These guys really love the Lord![To paraphrase the great Pee Wee Herman: "Then why don't they marry Him? "Shine: The Hits" is a must own, but then again, so is "Adoration: The Worship Album." You may just have to buy both of them.[Yep, you'll need both: one to shit on and one to cover it up with. Shit Luther, are the Newsboys what you get when you play Cradle of Filth backwards?]

My Personal [S]crapbooks - As promised, I've uploaded some more of my personal scrapbook albums. If you are a [s]crapbooker, or simply enjoy looking through a friend's album, click on the link and check out my little darlings in my 1994/1995 Family album.[Oh great, I just puked on my keyboard]

If you have a friend who would enjoy receiving this E-letter click the follow link and we will forward it to them: Lower Right Under "Shoutbox"

Dear Lord, thank You for rest, physically during summer vacation, emotionally through the gift of peace, and spiritually knowing You are in control. Build up our families on the Rock-solid foundation of Your Son. I pray for each person reading this E-letter ["...and that you'll smite those whom mock it"] and I ask for times of refreshing in Your presence. Give them sweet sleep, fresh hope, and faith-filled strength. In Jesus [sic] name. Amen.

Lisa Whelchel - E-Letter

© 2006 Lisa Whelchel [addition text by Rodney Anonymous]

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 04:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's good to know that there's still at least one thing that Americans are more proficient at then anybody else in the world: even if that one thing is irony. This week America's mighty Arsenal of Irony was paraded before the hungry eyes of the rest of the planet's population in the form of a battered Nancy Reagan.

The widow Reagan, whose husband had presided over the wedding of the Republican Party to the Religious Right, had spent the earlier part of the week urging doorstop-turned-President George Bush not to veto a bill that would open up new lines for stem cell research only to be flatly reminded that the Snake-handlers are calling shots now. Seeing Mrs. Reagan left standing, abandoned, by the roadside of history almost made you forget what a miserable old kkkunt she is. Well Nancy, it looks like you'll have to move to Plan B: bathing in the blood of virgins.

Yes, this was the week that George v2.0 stopped speaking-in-tongues long enough to veto his first bill; forever ensured that his name would never again be used in the same sentence as that of Thomas Jefferson who served two terms without ever vetoing a bill (or getting lost in the Oval Office, for that matter).

Why should we care about stem cell research? After all, we're neither elderly, infirm, or infertile. In fact, I fathered sixteen bastards why typing the last paragraph. What we are, however, is the cheering section for irony, and as such we should pay strict attention to the tale of Georgie's Big Veto.

Irony On A Half Shell: Baby Go Bye Bye

As pointed out by Ronald Bailey in his highly acidic essay Is Heaven Populated Chiefly by the Souls of Embryos?, roughly 60 to 80 % (let's call it 70) "of all naturally conceived embryos are simply flushed out in women's normal menstrual flows unnoticed." Translation: Every day a highly disorganized God allows gazillions of perfectly good embryos to be flushed away. Why aren't Pro-Lifers from coast-to-coast diving into our nation's toilets in order to save these babies-to-be? Bailey offers an interesting thought experiment for the folks who believe that these embryos have all the rights that you and I do (or used to have before the PATRIOT Act was passed): A fire breaks out in a fertility clinic and you have a choice: You can save a three-year-old child or a Petri dish containing 10 seven-day old embryos. Which do you choose to rescue?

Irony On Ice: Snowflake Children

Because nothing says "Hey, I'm taking the moral high ground here" like using children as props Bush speckled his veto party with a noisy smattering of "Snowflake Children". Don't confuse Snowflake Children with Indigo Children. Indigo Children are human/alien hybrids, whereas Snowflake Children are kids who were conceived via in vitro fertilization from "adopted" frozen embryos. Pointing in the general direction of the little Petri-punks, Bush exclaimed, "These boys and girls are not spare parts. They remind us of what is lost when embryos are destroyed in the name of research."
The problem here is finding 400,000 women willing to be impregnated with the current stock of frozen embryos. The irony, as once again pointed out by our buddy Ron Bailey is that since the era of the Pet Rock, religious conservatives have opposed in vitro fertilization. So, according to Bush's base, he's only half correct. These boys and girls are not spare parts; what they are is an abomination in the eyes of God: An abomination whose very existence portents the coming of the Antichrist.

Turning Irony Up To 11: Putting the "Lie" in Librarian

Two years ago, Laura Bush defended her husband's stance on the use embryonic stem cells saying, "…I know that embryonic stem cell research is very preliminary right now, and the implication that cures for Alzheimer's are around the corner is just not right, and it's really not fair to the people who are watching a loved one suffer with this disease." Got that? Since the benefits of embryonic stem cell research won't be available until a future date, we shouldn't bother with it.

Seeing Mrs. Bush left standing, abandoned, by the roadside of sanity almost makes you forget what a miserable middle-aged kkkunt she is.

By the way, the Bush administration has re-worked this "logic" to claim that since adult stem cell research has shown some promise we no longer need to study embryonic stem cells. What they've neglected to mention is that our current knowledge of adult stem cells (and any future knowledge) has come directly from embryonic stem cell research.

Gimme That Ol' Time Irony: Farmer George Falls Off His Horse

Just as Ronald Reagan spun the Wheel O' Irony and stood by helplessly as it landed squarely on Spend Your Golden Years Shitting Your Pants and Calling Your Bedpost Ed Meese, the Flying Fickle Finger of Fate will certainly one day descend on George Bush's ranch.

Yes, I know that the President's ranch is actually an estate; just as I know that the White House should properly be referred to as The Presidential Palace: no matter who resides there. The point is that Bush actually thinks it's a ranch: or at least he does whenever photographers are present. That's why we've been treated to hundreds of pictures of George bailing chickens, plowing the tops of his orchard, planting cattle, and doing whatever else the fuck ranchers are supposed to do.

And therein lies the rub. Ranches are notoriously dangerous placesand I've heard that George Bush has fallen off a wagon more than once. What if he were to fall off his horse? It could happen. It certainly did to Christopher Reeve who, despite his horrific injury, went on to become a tireless (unless you count the two on his wheelchair. Badda Bing!) champion for stem cell research.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yeah, yeah, yeah; I know. You've been tuning in to RATYHTL for the last couple of days hoping to read something - anything - about stem cells, snowflake children, and the further adventures of our developmentally challenged President and his big red crayon (unless, of course, this piece from Slate is correct and the only person reading this site is my mother: which means I'd better put a new lock on the attic). Hey, I feel your pain, but it's been a busy week. Shit Luther, I didn't even get a chance to work on my tiny plastic Roman army. Well, new posts are just around the corner (corner posts?) - Honest! In the meantime, please do your best to enjoy the latest Aid or Invade.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Once again, a heavy work load (combined with a request to create an extra Aid or Invade) has kept me from blogging. Let's recap all of the fun that would've been posted if I weren't intent on working myself to death:

By now you've probably heard about the anti-choice blogger who mistook an Onion piece from 1999 titled "I am totally psyched for this abortion!" for an actual editorial. I really wish I'd gotten a chance to post about this fiasco before the blogger removed the comments (which, thanks to someone's dogged persistence in preserving the stupidity of the twenty-first century for future generations to gawk at, have been preserved here) and trackback links, as these were pure comedy gold: the trackback section was full of headlines like "Idiot mistakes 'The Onion' article for real news". By the end of the week, Pete-The-Christian-Blogger had Schumined his way into internet stardom culminating with an interview at Salon.com (Warning: You most view a shitty little commercial in order to read the entire interview).

The icing on the cake is that this is not the first time this sort of thing has happened. Take a look at this piece from WorldNetDaily posted back in 2001. According to the article, "High Priest Egan of The First Church of Satan in Salem, Mass., celebrates Harry's contribution, saying, 'Harry is an absolute godsend ... we've had more applicants than we can handle lately.'" And the source for that shocking chunk of info? This piece from the Onion.

In other news: There's no need to be bummed over the recent death of Syd Barrett (why did every blogger have to use "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" as a headline? ) because, apparently, we'll all be joining him in that Lake O' Fire pretty soon as, once again, it's the Apocalypse and we are all going to die.
This time out, the End O' The World is being heralded by increased violence in the Middle East. If there are any Israelis reading this I'd just like to say that while you had every right to go into Gaza after your captured soldiers, bombing the living shit outta Lebanon was a pretty fuckin' stupid move: not only because the faction of Hezbollah that fired rockets into Haifa are not affiliated with the Lebanese government, but also because now I have to hear some crazy Fundie monkey chatter about how your little bombing run marks the return of Jeebuz. I don't mean to come off as self-centered, but we all need to focus on me and my needs for a change.

Shit Luther, some of these ass-potatoes are even looking forward to the "End Times".

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 03:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This morning I got it into my head that it might be a challenge to write a piece about former Private Steven D.Green. The gist of the post was basically going to be testing the old theory that Tragedy + Time = Comedy (Does raping and murdering a teenage girl and massacring her family in March then waiting until July to fess up to the crime result in hilarity? If so, call FOX, 'cause I've got a sitcom to pitch: think MASH meets A Clockwork Orange).
I googled "Pfc. Steven D. Green" in the hopes of finding some Wingnut Website that might be defending his alleged crime ("When our soldiers can't even get a little R&R by raping young girls , then the Terrorists have already won.") and there, sandwiched between Former GI Charged in Murder, Rape and Ex-Soldier Charged in Killing of Iraqi Family was this:

"Coalition forces keep streets of Iraq safe"? This was like finding an article from 1968 titled "Manson's Learn to Combine Work and Family". I click on the link to the article and read the piece, but it appeared that the US Army had Winston Smithed Private Green right out of the story. A little more digging around the Army's website turned up this. Just in case the Army decides to make that page disappear, here's the photo of Green:

Which is accompanied by this caption:

December 9, 2005 Pfc. Steven Green, B Co. 1-502 prepares to blast a lock off the gate of an abandoned home during a search of homes in Mullah Fayed on Dec. 2.

Damn. Could I be the only person who had noticed this? Another google search turned up only a few other folks who'd stumbled onto the "keeping Iraq safe" section of the Army's site. Thank Gawd fer the Internets!

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 07:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

If there's one thing I enjoy more than archeology, it's bad archeology, and when it comes to bad archeology it's hard to do better than the Bosnian "Pyramids".

You might remember a few months back when strange news items about what could possibly be the world's oldest pyramid being discovered in Bosnia began to appear. If the coupling of the words "Bosnia" and "pyramid" didn't any reporter's bullshit detector to clang like Clangy the Clanging Clown falling down a spiral staircase in a suit of amour (that's a such a fun visual) is understandable: after all, most reporters don't have a background in ancient history or archeology, so when an archeologist, even an amateur archeologist, says that he's discovered a pyramid in Bosnia, the press can be forgiven for believing that archeologist. What's unforgivable is believing that archeologist when his name is Semir Osmanagic.

Semir Osmanagic, the man who "discovered" the Bosnian "Pyramids" (I get the feeling that this piece is going to consist almost entirely of quotation marks) is not an actual archeologist. What he is, however, is the "man" who "discovered" the "reason" behind the disappearance of the Mayan culture: as laid out in Osmanagic's unintentionally hilarious book The World of the Maya, it turns out that the Maya were scooped up by aliens (from the Pleiades, to be exact) whom the Maya were descended from by way of Atlantis.

Here's a fun read courtesy of Archeology Magazine.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 01:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Mexican brothers and sisters:

I call you "brothers and sisters" because we have such in common. For example we both know what it's like to live in an impoverished country that has a huge gap between its wealthiest and the poorest citizens, and is overflowing with Mexicans. We now have one more thing in common: stolen Presidential elections.

How do I know that the Mexican Presidential elections were stolen? The same way that I know that the American Presidential elections were stolen (twice): some guy over at Counter Punch says so. I believe pretty much everything I read on Counter Punch... unless, of course, something I read on Reason contradicts it, then I just flip a coin.

So, if your Presidential elections were even half as crooked as that guy over at Counter Punch (or five of the six guests on yesterday's edition of Democracy Now!) claims, you should take this opportunity to stand together and let your dissatisfaction be seen: by which I mean "Fuck shit up."

Americans used to be world's leaders in expressing our frustrations with unjust socio-economic conditions by fucking shit up; starting with the Boston Tea Party and ending sometime after the Rodney King riots. Now put down that burrito and pay attention because here's the lesson that I'm trying to impart: The day (and please keep in mind that I'm drunk right now) that Americans decided that it was no longer worth fucking shit up was the day that this country started going to Hell. After not one single American expressed their dismay with the 2000 Presidential elections by fucking shit up, the Powers-That-Be knew that they could get away with anything and we'd just bend over and take it in the ass like Rick Santorum at the Westminster Dog Show. Sweet Mexican Jesus Healing a Broken Piñata, they rigged two Presidential elections, Pre-War Intellegence, and American Idol and we just sat there with dopey smiles on our faces, shrugged and said "Well, what are ya' gonna do?" Well, I know what the citizens of Mexico are gonna do: they're gonna fuck shit up, because we keep being told that there are some jobs that Americans won't do, and one of those jobs must obviously be finding shit and fucking it up.

Well, if Mexicans can fuck shit up cheaper and more effectively than Americans, I say more power to 'em. Citizens of Mexico, rise up and smash your oppressors! You have nothing less valuable than your freedom to gain and nothing more valuable than... I dunno; whatever the fuck comes from Mexico to lose!

They want to deliver vast amounts of information over the internet. And again, the internet is not something you just dump something on. It's not a truck...

...It's a series of tubes.

- Senator Ted Stevens (R - Alaska)

Aid or Invade Number Six has been both published in print and on posted on the world-wide-web-of-internet-tube-thingies. Oddly, the day after I emailed this review to my editor, I heard an extremely positive review of the CD on NPR. Go figure.

I was going to cap off my 4th of July piece with a little blurb about how I was grateful to live in a country in which I'm free to publish a blog suggesting that many of said country's leaders should get fucked with a hairy AIDS cock (unlike in some other countries I could mention.), but then it dawned on my that I'm not grateful at all.

Don't get me wrong; I'm happy that I have the freedom to suggest that Rick Santorum may be a-little-more-than-mildly retarded, but I'm not grateful for the same reason that I'm not grateful that I wasn't mauled by baboons in the shower last night: this is the way things are supposed to work! Shit Luther, Freedom of Speech shouldn't be viewed as some sort of privilege; it should be the expected norm.

It is with this new-found sense of entitlement, that I proudly offer up this link to The Boston Phoenix's (as opposed to The Phoenix Boston's) The Ninth Annual Muzzle Awards

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

If you just tuned in, we're recapping the idiocy that was the last few weeks. Yesterday we looked at the bad news; today we've managed to scrape up some bits of good news:

America Saved By One Vote

Had the Senate voted 67-33 to approve the proposal to amend the Constitution to ban flag desecration, I would be spending today burning American flags.

Don't get me wrong, I think that damaging an American flag is one of the most disgusting things a citizen of this (or any other, for that matter) country can do (second only to helping to finance the career of Adam Sandler): that's exactly why we must protect our right burn, trample, or wipe our asses with Ol' Glory. If we only protect popular speech, we might as well hang up a sign that reads "America: Where Kittens Are Adorable, And Where Anyone Who Doesn't Think So Is Going To Jail." It's a simple concept; yet the country seems to be filled with knuckle-dragging morons who can't seem to wrap their tiny, Adam Sandler addled minds around the idea. If these idiots want to live in a country where it's illegal to burn the flag, they should shut the Hell up and move to either China or Cuba: where there are also plenty of hairy AIDS cocks for them to get fucked with.

Why am I so uber-angry with these assholes? Because they've forced me to say something nice about Senate's No. 2 Republican, Mitch McConnell of Kentucky (OK, technically Santorum is the "No. 2 Republican" because he's full of shit) who had the balls to say "I think the First Amendment has served us well for over 200 years. I don't think it needs to be altered."

Supreme Court Tells Bush to Go Fuck Himself (Hairy AIDS Cock Sold Separately)

On Friday, the Supreme Court struck down the military commissions President Bush had established to try prisoners being held in Gitmo suspected of being members of terrorist organization and '70's Pop group al-Qaeda or of being comedy writers.
Writing for the majority, Justice Breyer wrote, "Where, as here, no emergency prevents consultation with Congress, judicial insistence upon that consultation does not weaken our Nation's ability to deal with danger. To the contrary, that insistence strengthens the Nation's ability to determine -- through democratic means -- how best to do so. The Constitution places its faith in those democratic means. Our Court today simply does the same."
The President had argued that he had been given the power to both detain and try the prisoners by both congress and "a magical fairy princess who lives inside a tree in the Rose Garden. When the Court rejected this argument, Bush countered with "9/11! 9/11! 9/11! Look over there, 9/11!"

Rush Limbaugh + Viagra + Dominican Republic = Hairy AIDS Cock)

It doesn't get much better than this. Ok, if the story would've involved Bill O'Reilly, a jar of KY Jelly, and a baboon (Female baboon, of course: nothing queer about ol' Bill), then it would've been better, but we'll take what we can get.

As you've probably heard, Rush Limbaugh was detained last week at Palm Beach Airport after returning from a vacation to the Dominican Republic when Customs officials found someone else's Viagra in Rush's luggage. The big question her is "What was Rush doing in the Dominican Republic that would've facilitated the need for Viagra?" Hey, I'm not in the business of spreading rumors about people I don't like: I am, however, in the business of linking to people who are in the business of spreading rumors about people I don't like.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 01:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

"All right. You've covered your ass, now."

- President Bush to CIA briefer on the August 6, 2001 Presidential Daily Brief titled "Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S."

"Someday the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron."

- H.L. Mencken

About a dozen or so years ago, when I was still single, I took a look around the wildlife preserve that was my studio apartment and asked myself "What the fuck is my problem?" Not only did the place look like someone had parked a trash-barge on the third floor of a Pine Street brownstone, but among the many layers of dust was a layer of dust an inch or so thick on my keyboards which meant that I'd clearly been ignoring my songwriting duties.

After a brief analysis, I determined that my problem was twofold: Alcohol and women. Admittedly, if a man's going to have problems, it should be those two. I eventually remedied the situation by sobering up and getting married. Unfortunately, amid all the clutter of my life, I had failed to diagnose a third problem: I have never been good at prioritization.

My inability to prioritize is the reason that I'm am currently looking at the hastily written and seldom updated mess that is this web site and asking myself "What the fuck is my problem?" Oh, that's right; I answered that question in the last paragraph. Never mind. That's just say that for some reason it seemed more important to pain my tiny plastic Roman army that it did to blog. There; I've admitted it. And let us never speak of it again.

If I was going to take some time off, the last few weeks was, of course, the worst possible time during which to disappear. So much happened, much of it of historically idiotic proportions, that the recap is going to take at least two posts; so, the sooner we get started, the better:

Worst al Qaeda Cell EVER Captured

Yippee shit! The FBI captured seven extremely dangerous naughty men who were plotting to blow up, among other things, Chicago's Sears Tower. I don't know about you, but I certainly feel safer and I couldn't be happier about handing over many of my civil liberties for that feeling of safety. I know I've said some pretty bad things about the Global War on Terror in the past, but I'm big enough to admit that I was wrong. After all, a high-priority arrest like...

What?

The seven extremely dangerous naughty members of "The Sea of David" (which counted among its members "Brother Pat", "Brother B", and "Brother Rot", and whose leader was reportedly given to wandering the streets at three AM in a bathrobe waving a crooked stick) had no money, explosives *, or conventional weapons with which to carry out their Jihad? Shit Luther, my tiny plastic Roman army has a better chance of overthrowing the government than The Sea of David.

OK, so if these extremely dangerous naughty Muslim terrorists aren't exactly terrorists, they are at least Muslims, right?

Ummm...no.

It turns out that The Sea of David are a sort of cult which mixed Judaism and Christianity (the mother of one of the group's members insisted that her son is a Catholic) with a minuscule amount of Islam and… wait for it... Santeria.

Way to go FBI! Fuck you with a hairy AIDS cock. Nice waste of resources; good luck rounding up the extremely dangerous naughty surviving members of The Village People.

Worst Senator EVER and His Butt-Buddy Find "WMD"

While I may have been right all along in my criticism of the government's mishandling of the War on Terror, it turns out that I, like many, many others, we're gravely mistaken in our believe that there were no Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq, as two high-ranking government officials recently went on a news program to read from a recently declassified government report stating that WMD had indeed been found.

Appearing on FOX's John Gibson Show (uh oh), Congressman Peter Hoekstra (whoa boy) and Senator Rick Santorum (break out the hairy AIDS cock) quoted from a report that coalition forces had recovered approximately 500 weapons munitions which contained degraded mustard gas or sarin nerve agent. Unfortunately Santorum and Hoekstra left out the word degraded, as in "coalition forces had recovered approximately 500 weapons munitions which contained degraded degraded mustard gas or sarin nerve agent." You see, the WMD to which the 'Tard Twins were referring to turned out not only to be useless but they also dated back to before 1991 and were already dismissed by the White House's Iraq Survey Group.

Way to go Rick! Fuck you with a hairy AIDS cock. Nice waste of resources; good luck in your upcoming search for the One True Ring.

Worst Network EVER Calls For Office of Censorship
There's real reporting and then there's fuck you with a hairy AIDS cock reporting. When the New York Times (the official Right Wing codename for "The Liberal Homo Jew Conspiracy") did some real reporting and published a story about the Treasury Department monitoring international financial transactions, the civil libertarians at FOX News (AKA Hew Haw Jazeera) countered with some of the FYWAHACiest reporting of all time, calling for the US to create an "Office of Censorship".

"There's only so much of that trailer trash pie to go around."

- Cal Thomas, Fox New analyst, on other cable networks going after Fox's audience.

Tomorrow: Flag Burning, Gitmo, Limbaugh, and Starr Jones.

*Unlike Robert Goldstein: America's Most Deadly Podiatrist.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 01:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)