Thoughtless for the Day

Fanny Hunnybun

Salvete filii et filiae deorum,

"He was dividing God's land, and I would say, 'Woe unto any prime
minister of Israel who takes a similar course to appease the EU, the
United Nations or the United States of America. God says, 'This land
belongs to me, and you'd better leave it alone'"

That, of course was men's freestyle insanity champion and tinfoil hat
enthusiast Pat "Jesus should be here any day now, honest" Robertson
explaining why God was forced to make some time in His busy schedule
to lay an ol' school smiting on the ass of Ariel Sharon. Got that? Did
the Big Pink Pixie in the Sky didn't decide to drop a stroke-bomb on
Ariel Sharon because, in 1957, an Israeli army unit under
Sharon's command ruthlessly engaged in the wholesale slaughter of the
villagers of Qibya? Nope.

Did Mr. Alpha Omega send Ariel Sharon a one way ticket to Comaland
because of Sharon's complicity in the 1982 massacre of 800 Palestinian
civilians at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps? No way, Muffo. *

OK, so maybe Captain Omnipotent curb-stopped Ariel Sharon because he not
only had one girls' name, but two? Good theory, but incorrect.

No, according to Iman Robertson, Ariel Sharon was forced to bite the
biblical big one because he shut down a few Israeli settlements in Gaza
that neither you, gentle reader, nor any other normal human being, would
want to live in. Oh, and why God never bothered to visit a few strokes
upon any of the non-Jews who ruled the area from roughly 134 CE on shall
remain a mystery.

Note to be outdone in the fucktarded quote department, George Bush said
the following on the same day that Pat Robertson offered his thoughts on
Ariel Sharon - it's just as stupid, but got less press:

"When somebody comes to me and speaks Texan, I know they appreciate
the Texas culture."

Along with a splitting headache, the statement above, when combined with
Bush's other statements and actions, leaves us with two frightening
possibilities:

1) Bush is an evil genius who makes the occasional calculated stupid
remark just to fool the rest of us into thinking that he's a complete
idiot. As Al Franken once pointed out during one of his rare, actually
funny moments, the Press' attitude towards Bush has always been to treat
him like a "special" child. When Bush performed poorly in the debates,
the Medias' reaction was akin to "Ah, leave him alone. He just doesn't
know. OK?"

2) Bush is an evil moron and someone else (Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Donald
Rumsfeld, Hitler's-brain-in-a-robot-body, take your pick), someone much,
much smarter, is really behind all of the more complex evil which rolls
off the White House assembly line.

I'll go with option number two (Huh, huh "number two"). Shit Luther, could
the same simple mind which gave us the above bon mot about "Texas culture"
actually be capable of the pure, savage brilliance behind the Torture Bill
Signing Statement?

Just in case you hadn't heard, shortly after Bush reluctantly signed the
John "Charlie's in the rice paddies" McCain sponsored Anti-Torture Bill,
George issued a "Signing Statement" which basically said that, as
President of the United States and Minster of Culture for Texas, he has
the God-given Right to ignore the piece of legislation which he just
signed.

To help my younger readers grasp this delicate and seemingly contradictory
concept, I've created the following visual aid:



* As Michael Shermer pointed out in what had to be teh bestest debate
EVAR, this is perfectly acceptable behavior according to the Old
Testament, wherein "you are to 'Love Thy Neighbor' as long as it is your
immediate in-group neighbor, but that it is perfectly okay to rape,
pillage, and destroy those bastards on the other side of the river."

The Latin word of the day is:
periculum - i - danger


By the way, if you're the sort of riffraff who actually likes this site,
why not take a minute away from beating orphans to nominate it for
Best-Kept-Secret Weblog over at the Bloggies. I'm not going to pretend
that it wouldn't be the cat's highly flammable pajamas to get an actual
award, but I'm not going to beg either: at least not yet.



Rodney on 01.07.06 @ 12:51 PM EST [link] [No Comments]

Philomena Cunegunde Wewe

Salvete winolenti nautae et antiqui populi,

Well, well, well, it seems that that Digital Whore of Babylon we lovingly
call "the internet" is all a twitter with the goodies which await us in
James Risen's new book State of War . If only half of Mr. Risen's
accusations are on target, then George W. Bush not only deserves to be
impeached, but Laura should be forced to wear an "I'm with Shithead"
t-shirt whenever she and her husband appear together. Before we recap
what we've learned in the past few days, let's take a minute to meditate
on the only happy kernal of corn in this sloshing bucket of feces: one
day, our grandchildren - living safely in Europe - will look back upon the
activities of the Bush adminstration with the same curiosity which we
approch diarams depicting daily Neanderthal life at the Museum of Natural
History. Duck and cover, junior reports, here it comes:

The Bush and pals had a disturbing tendency to ignored intelligence which
didn't make a compelling case for war. For example, as the CIA only had
one agent in Baghdad, prior to the invasion, the decision was made
to send some 30 Iraqis back to their homeland to see what they could
uncover about Saddam Hussein's nuclear program. Among these people was
Dr. Sawsan Alhaddad, an anesthesiologist living in Cleveland. When Alhaddad
asked her brother, a scientist who worked for the Iraqi government, about
the weapons program he was reportedly stunned and informed her that the
nuclear program had been abandoned over a decade ago. All of the other
ametuer spies reported the same thing. This information was later
dismissed as Saddam's propaganda

Bush, who seems to be under the impression that the Geneva Conventions
involved a buch of Shriners riding around in little cars, appearently
suggested that pain medication be withheld from detainees.

That whistleblower who informed the Times about shenanigans at the NSA
has turned out to be a whistle orchestra consisting of a dozen or more
officials who believed that the spying program was illegal and were, in
Risen's words "motivated by the purest reasons". One of these motivated
individuals has appearently asked to testify before Congress.

And if that weren't enough to make your head spin like a spinny head
thing, trip on this: the government - our government - may have
spied on CNN correspondent Christiane Amanpour.

The Latin word of the day is:
regius -a -um - royal


Rodney on 01.05.06 @ 06:48 PM EST [link] [6 Comments]

C. Mathews Dick

Salvete, agricolae et avarae feminae (Mr. Anonymous insisted that I greet
you like that).

Well, it's that time of the year again. For the first two weeks in
January, the Theater community here in Burley Connecticut, which at this
points consists almost entirely of the drama club at Dorothy Hamill High
and a ragtag collection of local thespians know as Footlight Fever Forever
(whose last production, Mr. Ed: The Opera, was shut down on its
opening night, during the fist act, by a horrified audience who couldn't
help but notice the cruel combination of fishhooks and piano wires that
were used to make Ol' Chester, the horse cast in the title role, "sing".),
takes a brief hiatus.

In order to keep my reviewing skills sharper than a Hispanic's prison
shank during this time of dramatic drought, I am often forced to take
desperate measures. Last year, for example, I was forced to travel to
Branson Missouri in order to review Lee Greenwood's "America: Love Her
Like A Hot, Sweaty Woman". Having learned from that mistake, this year I'm
doing all of my reviewing from the comfort of my study: thanks to
amazon.com. While my latest review may be found here, I've also taken the
liberty of posting it below as I've noticed that my analyses have the
strange tendency to be deleted.

-.-.--.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--..--.-
Six months ago I found myself in the unenviable position of having to
explain to my epicene nephew, Winthrop, that his cat, Peterbald the Great,
was called to "Kitty Heaven" when he used up his ninth life by taking a
nap in a wood chipper. Seeking opuscule aid in this endeavor, I popped off
to the Burley Library where I inquired of the crone-on-duty "Would you
have any books that might help a young man, a rather 'high strung' young
man, deal with the unexpected and extremely messy death of a beloved pet?"
The bookmobile battleaxe rose from her chair with an audible creak (coming
from her and not the chair), slowly made her way among the shelves, and
returned a half hour later only to produce - to my great horror - dusty
editions of "Old Yeller", "Sounder", and "The Yearling".

"Are you daft, woman?" I screamed, hurling the tomes at her grey head.
"Have you ever read these books? They may have been acceptable reading
back in 1936 when a child's deceased Grandpa was laid out in the like a
holiday decoration and when the Boy Scouts handed out merit badges for
avoiding polio, but today's youth have fortunately been shielded from the
ugly face of reality. What I'm looking for," I raised my voice, just in
case the odorous octogenarian was hard of hearing, "is a book that's just
as light and fluffy as the departed pussy cat whose passage it'll be
employed to explain. Now drag your adult diapers back into that stack and
don't you dare return without something totally puerile and completely
void of complex thought!"

After what seemed like an eternity, the miserable old bookmaggot returned
with a copy of Sylvia Browne's "Animals on the Other Side". Snatching it
from the mummified matron's withered hands; I furiously began to peruse
its contents. "Hmmm… banal… jejune…a tragically bromidic collection of
hokum, pabulum, and platitudes. This is exactly what I was after!" I beamed
at the superannuated librarian who now seemed to be suffering some sort of
stroke-thingy.

I studied Ms. Browne's treatise during the cab ride back to my domicile
and, by the time the hack had pulled into my driveway, I was more than
ready to explain to Winthrop that his fair-haired feline was now freely
spraying the clouds in the company of Plato, Aristotle, and Nelson
Rockefeller. Ironically, as I entered the house, I was informed by mother
that, earlier that day, Winthrop had been caught in an indiscretion with
a garden hose, a bucket of lard, and, most shocking of all, a Papist. The
lad was immediately and unceremoniously shipped off to Burley Military
Academy, whose motto, "viros facemus", seems to have made a deep
impression on the boy as he is now a the top of his class and looking
forward to a career in interrogating little brown people.

Although I never got a chance to use psychic Sylvia's prosaic primer ease
my nephew's grief (surrounded by Burley men, he seems to have forgotten
all about his late pussy), "Animals on the Other Side" has earned a place
in my personal library…under the short leg of my desk.

Warmest Regards,
Nathan E. Bulwar-Lytton

The Latin phrase of the day is:
viros facemus - we make men






Nathan on 01.04.06 @ 07:10 PM EST [link] [10 Comments]

John Wellborn Wallop

Who Killed The Other JR?

Last night, on a dare, I tuned into It’s Your Call to check out
their ninth annual “Jonbenet Ramsey is still dead” show. If you’ve never
seen It’s Your Call, all you really need to know is that the
program follows the three cardinal rules of viewer call-in shows:

1. Talk about yourself as much as Possible. “Lynn, I just want to
say that I have a granddaughter who’s about the same age that Jonbenet was
when she was killed by rabid pandas, and I just want to say that had my
granddaughter, who’s an honor student/star athlete/rodeo clown, …”

2. It’s not an opinion unless it’s completely bat-shit. “Hello
Lynn. Have any of your guests ever considered the possibility that
Jonbenet may have killed herself and then arranged the scene to look like
a murder? You know, for the insurance money.”

3. Turn that TV/Radio volume up to 11. “Lynn, I feel that
*SSSSsssssqqqqquuuuueeeeeaaaalllll*.”

If the people who call into these shows are a reasonable representation of
the American public, then it’s fair to say that only about three percent
of the population understands the concept of Occam’s Razor. Jonbenet was
found dead in her family’s house. The ransom note found later was written
on paper from the Ramsey home and demanded a payment of $118,000, the
exact amount that Mr. Ramsey had just received as a bonus, and contained
the same grammatical error that Jonbenet’s mother would make a year later
in a Christmas card. Therefore, using AAL (Average American Logic), we may
deduce that Jonbenet Ramsey was killed by Muslim extremists and that we
must now invade Colorado.

Maybe Jonbenet’s killer has never been brought to justice because, at
least on a subconscious level, we’re all pretty much OK with the Littlest
Beauty Queen being dead. I’ve just lost some of you; haven’t I?

Look; I’m not saying that I’m happy about the murder of a child.
What I am saying is that I’m comfortable with the concept of
Jonbenet Ramsey no longer being alive. Shit Luther, it sounds even harsher
when I phrase my position like that. Let me put it to you another way:
Remember that night, back in college, when you and your buddies smoked
weed and stayed up all night debating rather or not, if you owned a time
machine and were presented with the opportunity, would kill Hitler if you
encountered him when he was a child? Now think about the first time when
you saw that now infamous footage of the painted kinderwhore stomping
across the stage in her sequins cowgirl outfit. Are you honestly going to
tell me that the thought “Thank Christ someone stopped her. Who knows what
evil that little monster could’ve accomplished had she been allowed to
live?” didn’t flash across your mind? Next year, I’m going to call in and
suggest that people from The Future traveled back in time and killed
Jonbenet in order to settle an astro-bet they made while smoking
space-weed in Future College.

Maybe next year, the producers of It’s Your Call will do the world
a favor and, instead of focusing on the death of Jonbenet, dedicate a show
to the hundreds of thousands of still-living Jonbenets who are currently
being forced by an army of stage-mothers to perform “Hey look me over” in
costumes that would make a Drag Queen feel queasy.

The Latin word of the day is:
puella - ae - girl

Rodney on 01.03.06 @ 07:19 PM EST [link]

E. Pluribus Eubanks

Salvete, lectori et holeri.

So I took a four day nap and, when I awoke, it was a whole new year. Ain't
that some shit? Now I guess I'll be forced to crank out one of those
mandatory end-of -the-old-shitty-year / start-of-a-new-shitty-year blogs.

Look Back in Anger

"Mr. Brown? That sounds too much like Mr. Shit."
- Mr. Brown
Reservoir Dogs

While every other blogger on the web is either recapping 2005 or making
predictions for 2006, I've decided to mash things up and look back at
someone else's predictions for 2005: and that someone, making her second
RATYHTL appearance in a row, is professional psychic / amateur wildebeest
Sylvia Brown.



Before we get started, it should be noted that Ms. Browne-stain claims her
predictions are 87 to 90% accurate, although a few sour-faced killjoys out
there have protested that Sylvia's number of psychic bull's-eyes is closer
to 6%. Damn Liberals and their fuzzy math! OK, here are just a few of
Sylvia's Amazingly Accurate Psychic Predictions Which Definitely Came To
Pass In 2005:

1. Saddam Hussein will be dead before his trial. OK, I know what
you're thinking. However, it should be noted that Saddam was found hiding
in a hole in the ground, and that Sylvia claims that she thought Saddam
was dead because she had a vision of him under the ground.

2. US troops will not be home from Iraq until 2006. That's a rather
prediction. And shame on anyone who would point out that Sylvia had
originally predicted that US troops would be home by the early summer of
2004… which she then altered to the end of 2004.

3. Medical surgery will start to use some kind of laser. Sure;
surgeons have been using lasers for years, but note that Sylvia says "some
kind of laser". Perhaps this is some new kind of laser…maybe even
some new kind of psychic laser!

4. Laser beams affecting the cockpits of aircraft are coming from other
planes or satellites. Yeah, yeah, I know that those laser beams turned
out to be the work of some guy in New Jersey, but what the Liberal /
Skeptic media failed to report is that that guy in New Jersey had flown on
several planes and may have owned satellite television.

5. Mount St Helens will blow this year or within 18 months. Hey,
she's still got another six months.

6. There will be some minor terrorist attacks on trucks and trains but
not airplanes. This will hit our food supply. Alright smartasses, I
don't won't to see any remarks in the comments section like "The only
threat to our food supply is Sylvia."

7. The Illuminati is real…

8. …Anti-Gravitational rods helped move the stone blocks to build the
pyramids…

9. …Osama Bin Laden is dead…

10. …There is no Devil but there is a Hell and we are living in it.

Well, there you go. Once again, Sylvia Browne has been proven to be 100%
accurate. Shit Luther, let's make that 101% accurate for tipping us off to
something we've always suspected: we are living in Hell.

The Latin words of the day are:
centum unnus - one hundred and one



Rodney on 01.02.06 @ 03:18 PM EST [link]