Monday, April 11, 2005

Down n' Out at the edge of Exurbia

I haven't posted anything for a long time. This is because there have been other things on my mind.

First, my boss found out I had a blog and fired me on the spot. He said my commentary on the Christian Right and Republicans offended him deeply, and that I was going to hell. So, I told him where to go, and he called security.

Then, my wife found out I had a blog and kicked me out of the house. My criticism of her, and her fanatical dealings with the Christian Right and Republicans, were not in-keeping with the family values I was supposed to uphold, so she threw my ass out.

Next, I was arrested for about 24hours for spying on my dickhead neighbor, Bob. I'd set up a camera to observe his suspicious activities with respect to a yellow Hum-Vee, body bags and hundreds of gallons of water I saw him handling a few months ago. Nothing much happened after I set up the camera -- except I spotted Bob and his submissive wife having sex through a hole in a white sheet once -- that was awful. Shivers up the spine. At any rate, my observations became more intense when my pit bull, Karl Rove, was seen sniffing around Bob's yard, and then stumbled home and died the next day. Bob killed Karl Rove. I'm sure of it. But, Bob somehow found out I'd been secretly filming him, so he called the cops, and I landed in jail.

Now I'm out of jail, but sequestered in a roach-infested EconoLodge at the edge of my Exurban paradise. I'm not allowed into Exurbia any more, because the Homeowner Association's Rent-a-Cops have been warned to keep me out. I found a Bible in here with what looks like smeared blood or chocolate all over it. A coin-operated, vibrating leather chair won't stop vibrating in a corner of the room. The bedspread is crusty in places. I saw two homeless people having wild sex near my parked car the other night.

I think I'm going to cry.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Bright Ideas

It makes me feel so warm and squishy inside when I see how the right wing is tackling the big issues of the day. On behalf of all of us. For America. For freedom.

For instance, there was the Underwear Law. Virginia lawmakers in the House of Delegates set out to make sure that any kid vulgar enough to wear pants that hang low enough to reveal his or her underwear would be fined $50. Specifically, the law was aimed at anyone who publicly and intentionally "displays his below-waist undergarments, intended to cover a person's intimate parts, in a lewd or indecent manner." This important, groundbreaking piece of legislation, however, was killed by the Virginia Senate only a few days later. Not just because some ridiculed the legislation, but also because low-riding, underwear-revealing pants may not be in fashion today. How sad that fashion and ridicule intervened to prevent laws crucial to our country, to our future, from ever seeing the light of day. I'm just disgusted.

I've stumbled on other bright ideas circulating around. The World Nut Daily is usually a good place to go to find really intelligent ideas. Like this one: Conquer Mexico by Joseph Farah:

But the Mexican government has never believed in the will of the people or the rule of law.
So, I suggest maybe it's time to conquer Mexico. We're so intent on freeing 26 million Iraqis from a corrupt, barbaric tyranny. What about 100 million Mexicans? Don't they deserve a government of the people, by the people and for the people? How about truly free elections south of the border? Maybe it's time to free Mexico. And worse, Mexico is proving to be a more serious national security threat to the United States than Saddam Hussein's Iraq was.

Gosh, what a smart idea. This is going to set the UN on fire!

And finally, Otto's favorite doctor, Dr. Jack Wheeler, "intelligence expert" -- though he's going by "geopolitical expert" at least for the next few weeks -- has informed the world that Ukraine's Orange Revolution was accomplished, not by the Ukrainian people's yearning for democracy free from corruption and Russian influence, but by ... vodka.

"Eastern Ukraine is heavily ethnic Russian. The main industry is coal. The miners are rough, tough, and hate Yushchenko for wanting to take Ukraine away from Russia and toward the West," writes Wheeler. "It was arranged for more than a thousand of them to be taken from Donetsk, the capital of the coal-mining region, by bus and train to Kiev, where, armed with clubs and blunt tools, they would physically beat up the Orange Revolutionaries. Such mass violence was not only to disperse the demonstrators but serve as an excuse for the government to declare martial law, suspending the Ukrainian Parliament (the Rada) and elections indefinitely."
Now comes the secret weapon: vodka.

"When the miners got on their buses and trains, they found to their joy case after case of vodka – just for them. When they arrived in Kiev, trucks awaited them filled with more cases of vodka – all free provided by 'friends' of the Donetsk coal miners. Completely soused, they never made it to Independence Square. Too hammered blind to cause any violence at all, they had a merry time, passed out and were shipped back to Donetsk."

Writes the intel expert: "Just take a moment and reflect on how stone-cold brilliant this was. The forethought and planning it took, the innovative thinking. Bush doesn't send the Marines – he sends the vodka! – and achieves a democratic revolution. This is the sort of thinking, these are the sorts of tactics, that are going to be applied now for 'ending tyranny in our world.' Military force will be used only as a necessary resort."

Have you ever heard of anything so intelligent in all your life? Think of how many wars we could win, just by getting our enemies good and soused. Think of what we could do in N. Korea, Iran, Syria, just by sending over truckloads of alcohol. Brilliant. And it's so easy, too! I tell you, it takes someone like Dr. Jack Wheeler, "geopolitical expert," and self-proclaimed "Indiana Jones of the Right" to reduce centuries of history, politics, diplomacy and, well, reality down to something as basic as inebriating one's enemy.

I hope when we start with Mexico, there'll still be plenty of tequila to go around. I love a good margarita.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

God bless the UCC

At least some people still love SpongeBob.

"SpongeBob enters the UCC's Church House. Despite Cleveland's chilly temperatures, he knows he'll be greeted warmly inside."

How can we get the United Church of Christ to move into Steve's neighborhood, where they're so desperately, desperately needed?

Saturday, January 29, 2005

BobCams and Karl Rove

I've set up a camera -- I'm calling it my "BobCam" -- that I've pointed at my next-door neighbor's house. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I saw Bob unloading body bags and gallons of water from his yellow Humvee a few weeks ago, and I'm worried about what he's up to. If I was better at technical stuff, I could post a live feed on this site so everyone could monitor Bob's activities. But I don't know how to do that, so I'll just have to write what I see.

My dog, Karl, has been sniffing around Bob's yard lately. I wonder what he smells.

Karl scares me to death. Sometimes more than Bob. You see, Karl's a very intimidating pit bull that my wife got from a breeder in the mountains to protect our home. She named him Karl, after Karl Rove, because she thinks Rove is a wonderfully strong and aggressive male who knows what he wants and gets what he wants, when he wants it. She respects that, and she loves our dog Karl. Maybe more than she loves me.

In my opinion, that dog shits all over the place and ruins everything for everyone.


Maybe his name is apt, after all.


Tuesday, January 25, 2005

SpongeBob Gaypants

SpongeBob -- fighting the good fight...

The fallout from the SpongeBob Squarepants Fiasco has been interesting here in exurbia. Children all over the neighborhood are crying, distraught, tormented, looking on helplessly as their fundamentalist parents eradicate all SpongeBob Squarepants images from their homes. The children, I suspect, will never forgive them.

Parents are all fired up because the American Family Association, a few weeks ago, leveled a charge that SpongeBob -- who is A SPONGE -- is part of the vast, liberal, homosexual agenda and thus a danger to the nation's children. It has produced an eerie sort of insanity in my neck of the woods. I've seen trash bins overflowing with SpongeBob dolls, DVDs and imaginary underwater universe paraphernalia. Despondent children fill the streets, too tired from sobbing to play, grieving over the loss of their beloved SpongeBob. My kids have taken a new interest in their dear old Dad, since Mom, a proud AFA member, has sucked all the joy out of the house, destroying any hint of SpongeBob's existence with her frightening, passionate zeal to root out and destroy sin, even if sin comes in the clever guise of a household cleaning product. With eyes. And an annoying voice.

It takes a special kind of family values group to associate an imaginary, talking underwater sponge -- a sponge who has the decency to wear square pants, unlike other naked, libertine sponges -- with gay sex. I mean, we all know that Ernie and Bert are gay, Velma from Scooby Doo is a lesbian, and Rockie and Bullwinkle spend a bit too much time together trying to "pull a rabbit out of a hat." We're onto them. (Though I still don't agree with the accusations leveled at Tinkie Winkie.) But a sponge? When did we go so drastically off course?

But there may just be a happy ending for the children. Looks like the American Family Association is going to get sued over the flap they created. At least the We Are Family Foundation cares about the kids.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

When right-wing assholes turn on you

My wife, Barbara, is very upset and confused tonight.

You see, when Barbara heard that Harvard University's Larry Summers was of the opinion that women are innately disposed to inadequacy in science and math, she took it to be the "liberal left-wing's" view that women were inferior. It's Harvard, after all, a bastion of left-wing elitist education. She was delighted in a way, because Barbara was, before the kids came along, a very successful electrical engineer, and now she thinks of herself as some strong, right wing female advocate. Summer's opinion galvanized her belief that everything on the left was, well, very bad indeed.

But then she found out that right wing pundits, like Jonah Goldberg were of the same opinion -- basically touting the Harvard University view that women were inferior.

Here's what Goldberg had to say about it:

Doing remarkably little to combat the stereotype that women are emotionally frail and constitutionally incapable of dealing with stress, Professor Nancy Hopkins of MIT told the Boston Globe that she had to leave a lecture delivered by Harvard president Larry Summers because if she didn't she would have "either blacked out or thrown up."

When he started talking about innate differences in aptitude between men and women, I just couldn't breathe because this kind of bias makes me physically ill," Hopkins told the New York Times. "Let's not forget that people used to say that women couldn't drive an automobile."
That's true. "People" also used to say that women aren't as tall as men, that men are more aggressive than women, that women are the ones who make babies, that men are physically stronger than women, and all sorts of other things that happen to be true. The mere fact that "people" used to say some things that weren't true doesn't mean that everything people used to say is untrue — even if some of those comments offend Hopkins's delicate sensibilities.

Now Barbara's pissed. And perplexed. Her ideological sources have turned against her, acknowledging that women are too "sensitive" and lame because they lack a penis, and she doesn't know what to do.

I told her that she might look to people other than right-wing assholes to find a point of view. But she doesn't listen to me. So I guess all I can do is continue to sit on the La-Z-Boy, watch the news, and weep.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Maidens of virtue

I take issue with Heather's ungenerous (to put it mildly) assessment of Bob's wife -- whom we will call "OfBob" for our purposes.

Heather may not believe that Bob killed his wife. I have my doubts as well. However, it is ludicrous to suggest that he wouldn't do it, because OfBob has submitted herself so completely to his will that she is "already dead." Indeed, Heather, I detect something in your tone hinting that she is not worthy of being killed. How unkind of you.

Heather normally is a cranky, indomitable sort of bitch -- one whose feistiness can only be tamed by one wielding handcuffs and electrical prods and applying them in an appropriate, satisfying manner. Not that she doesn't enjoy being tamed. Far from it. I believe Heather enjoys submitting to an older, attractive, dominating male (i.e., Professor Otto Van Zant) under the right circumstances.

Now, for some women, submitting under all circumstances to anyone with a penis is de rigeur. In some circles, these women are called "Maidens of Virtue."

A little blurb (emphasis added):

Through stories, allegories, illustrations, and memory-making projects, "Raising Maidens of Virtue" covers topics such as guarding the tongue, idleness, sibling relationships, honoring parents, contentment, modesty, purity, cleanliness, and feminine biblical beauty.

Clearly, these topics ("guarding the tongue," in particular) take on whole new interpretations on Heather's planet. The vast chasm between herself and "Maidens of Virtue" like OfBob, plus not a small dose of intellectual superiority, cause Heather to lash out in irritation and disbelief that women in this century wouldn't want more than what a book written thousands of years ago -- by men -- tells them to want.

At any rate, perhaps some of Heather's ire comes from the rather poor showing women like her made in the news this week: we learned that women make bad interrogators, are not as gifted as men in math and science, and are unlikely to get married. In a news climate such as this, it's no wonder Heather's on edge.

However, if she comes by my office during office hours tomorrow, I might be able to relieve her of some stress.