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March 31, 2003

You don't say....

Raid on Iraqi Militant Group Indicates Ties to al-Qaida but Leadership on the Run to Iran.

I am shocked and appalled! Inconceivable!

Eventually, everything evil and sinister about Iraq will come to light and the No Blood For Oil loudmouths can shrink back under the rocks from whence the came.

one one hand there's my kids and on the other, there's this silo in Iraq...

Not for nothing, but a 55 year old woman is really not quite efficient to guard a grain silo from a bomber.

I just know that if I was the child of a woman who went off to Iraq to guard our enemy's storage bins against certain destruction and my mother said she was prepared to die for the anti-war cause, I would say something like "Wow, what an idiotic and self-centered mother I have." And then I would say "Where's that good china you had in storage because I would love to take it before my sister tries to lay claim to it after you're dead."

But that's just me.

it's the little things


The Yankees are back on Cablevision.

They are winning 1-0.

It's finally spring.

UPDATE: $%#$%&%$#

it's tricky

to rock a rhyme

Arnett update

There are reports (as of yet no link) that Peter Arnett has been fired by NBC and National Geographic.

Which is interesting considering last night NBC had this to say about Arnett:

NBC, in a statement Sunday, praised Arnett's "outstanding" reporting from Iraq and said he was trying nothing more than to give an analytical response to an interviewer's questions.

And today, he's gone, giving no credence to the reports that Arnett might have had a gun to his head or been under "duress" when he made the offending statements.

I'm sure Iraqi TV has an opening for him.

somewhere else you can find me

Speaking of news, I will be posting from time to time at Connie Du Toit's new blog Keeping the home fires burning because even though I write about media bias, I am still a pro-war, pro-troops American kind of gal.

We are a group of ordinary people who wanted to do something to make it easy for our troops to find out how the vast majority of people feel about them. This website provides links to many of the great things that are being done to support our troops. The contributors to this site are listed in the upper right of every page. None of us are professional journalists. We're just ordinary folks, doing what we can to make life a little better for our troops, the families of our troops, and other ordinary folks who want to be counted.

We are biased. We support our troops 100%. The people who post comments to this site share our bias.

I've disabled comments on this entry because I do not want anyone using this post to belittle Connie's great effort.

Yes, Virginia, there is media bias

Much has been made about the flag-waving pro-war stance of Fox News. Although they call themselves "Fair and Balanced," most people think they are anything but.

In fact, Oliver Willis recently compared Fox to al Jazeera, while Laurence Simon pointed out the blatant jigoism of Fox.

The fact is, you will not be able to find a fair and balanced television news channel anywhere in the world during wartime.

I watch Fox News because I find it has the most interesting reports, the best view of Iraq and the most straight-forward war reporting. That is not to say it is even handed all the time. The cheerleading and pro-war ruminations exist often on Fox. One only has to listen to Sean Hannity or Neil Cavuto to see that.

There's not a lot of choice out there, despite the fact that there are a zillion news channels between cable tv and live streaming news on the internet. You're either going to get feel-good, rally around the U.S.A. and tie a yellow ribbon reporting, or you are going to get look at the carnage the U.S. and coalition forces are producing reporting.

Each view of the war exploits different things. al Jazeera exploits American casualties and death in general. Fox exploits the same thing, but in a different way. They want to tug at your red, white and blue heartstrings so you start seeing things through the same colored glasses as they do.

The war is everywhere. If you turn on your tv or radio or boot up your computer it is staring you in the face, be it with bombs or bodies or flags. The media is changing to fit itself into the war niche. Radio stations are either banning war related songs or urging listeners to go to pro-war rallies. Every local news station has already done a story on how the war is effecting children.

It's really not up to the media to decide what we see or how we perceive their views. It's up to us to make our own choices and to disseminate the information as best we can. Even if you watch a channel that seems to trasmit with a closed mind, it's up to us to watch with an open mind.

Yes, there is liberal media bias. And there is conservative media bias. And in this age of readily available information from all over the world, there is bias news to be found everywhere. Pro-Palestine and anti-Israel, pro-Iraq and anti-America, whatever bias you are looking for, it's out there.

If al Jazeera is not your cup of tea - and I imagine that most of us look at in to fuel our outrage - then make the choice to not watch it. If Fox News is too jingoistic for you, try CNN. If you are sick of the war at all, turn on your local news station where they are probably right now debating the merits of fertilizer. And you just know that someone is going to write into the station accusing them of being biased against the fertilizer industry.

March 30, 2003

let's play two

Baseball season has started.

It's snowing.

There's an ice warning for tomorrow morning.

This is not spring, damn it. Don't those evil gnomes in charge of the weather know that it's not supposed to snow after the first pitch is thrown?

Well, they're obviously not paying attention because baseball season has not only officially started, it's being blogged, so those weather gnomes in their weather pods can't tell me they didn't know. I know for a fact they have a DSL line over at the weather making palace.

Get on the ball, guys. Stop the snow, break out the flowers and tree buds, give me Bob Shepherd's voice and then I'll believe it's spring.

Although the season won't really start until a) Roger Clemens beans someone and b) I make a snide Red Sox comment to Solonor.

Is anyone still reading this blog? Did you all desert me for blog stock trading and war news? Would it help if I became an embedded reporter in other blogs and I could tell you what color underwear Jim Treacher wears and if Robyn is wearing a bra or not?

It's just been so....lonely here lately.

I brushed my teeth. I put on deodorant. You can come back, now!

delusion or duress?

Peter Arnett is either:

A) Being held at gunpoint by Iraqis


B) A traitor and and flaming gasbag.

Either way, he is in deep, deep shit.

ruminations on the evils of the ice cream man

The bad thing about spring is the return of the ice cream man. I hate the ice cream man. I have evil fantasies about taking his jingly jangly bells and shoving them so far up his ass that his ears start ringing. It's not even one guy. We have the dueling trucks around here. They circle the block morning, noon and night, each one turning up their sound system louder on each pass down my street.

There's Mr. Softy, Doug's Truck o' Ice Cream and some ominous looking white truck that I swear plays the theme from "Rosemary's Baby" while it circles the block.

evic.jpgWhen I was a child, I thought of ice cream men as evil beings sent to earth by Satan to ply children with goodies into joining the force of the dark side. Those bells and happy recordings you heard on the speakers was just a mask for subliminal messages, meant to hypnotize into becoming one of the devil's minions, and then you would be put to work selling cigarettes to minors and selling Elvis albums to old ladies.

it turns out they aren't satan's helpers at all, just capitalists in action. They fight for our allegiance with specials and discounts and the coolest, trendiest ice cream ever. Twenty five flavors of gelato. Ice cream cones coated with peanut butter sauce. Yellow, gooey, Pikachu shaped pops.

One flavor is more disgusting than the next. The Rugrats ice pops leave purple and yellow stains on the sidewalk. The Flinstone push up pops taste like Triaminic.

And yet, the kids run to the ice cream as if he were the Pied Piper of Sweet Treats. They eat these disgusting, fake flavored, stain-inducing pops and beg for more.

I wonder what life on our block would be like during the summer if our only ice cream truck was driven by a man from Japan who imported all his goods from his home country.

Would the kids run for the truck every day to scoop up the Ox Tongue flavor ice cream? Would they beg us for money to purchase a scoop of eggplant? Would risk life and limb by running after the ice cream man just to get some squid flavored cones?

Where do they get these ideas from? Do people really buy chicken wing flavored dessert? Would anyone order a confection that was made with eels?

I wouldn't tempt fate by serving Japanese desserts, anyhow. The last time I gave some kids Japanese candy, it turned out the candy was recalled.

gratuitous self link

Natalie: Eww, did you fart, DJ?
DJ: No! I was just going to ask you that!
Natalie: Well it smells like someone let one out. Mom?

The very true story of how Easter eggs signify the onset of spring, over at Raising Hell.

ten second movie review

Death to Smoochy:

Interesting concept. Mostly, ill-conceived. It could have been a great, dark comedy. Instead it was just...dark.

Also, I think I broke out in hives at one point, which I am prone to do when I am feeling uncomfortable enough to cringe at something.

So Death to Smoochy gets the rating of 3 tablespoons of Benadryl out of 4, which means it was not as uncomfortably horrible as say, See Spot Run, but it was worse than Billy Madison.

I guess you would have to live inside my head to understand my movie reviews, which is why I don't do movie reviews very often.

Plus, there's not a lot of room in there and I don't think you would enjoy living there very much anyhow.

Yes, I am quite overtired, thank you for asking.

March 29, 2003

the trend is dead

So am I the only one asking the question "What ever happened to the Backstreet Boys?" I always knew they were destined for a Where Are They Now episode, but I didn't think it would be so soon.

Thankfully, the whole boy band plague seems to have come to its end, with just a few scratchy pock marks like Justin Timberlake hanging around as a reminder.

I wonder what the next phase or vanilla-flavored trend coated with sprinkles will be. Not just in music, but in pop-culture in general. If I could just learn to predict trends, or at least the coolness factor in fledgling products/ideas/music/shows, I would, of course, be rich.

Back many years ago - and yes I do go back so far as to remember a world without Shredder - I read in a magazine about a new show coming to the tube called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turltes. I scoffed at the name. I laughed at the idea. What kind of hip, with-it kid would admit to liking such an ill-conceived thing.

Did I mention that just last week I bought myself a Ninja Turtles Katana? Who knew that the Turtles would still be rockin' the sewer more than a decade later? Come on, there's no way you predicted their success, either.

When I try to predict future trends, I only come up with the thought that it's all been done before. Every cartoon and comic has been drawn already. There's not much difference between Yu Gi Oh! and Pokemon.

Every song has been written. The new punk bands are the old punk bands with less flare. Every Good Charlotte song has a Ramones song underneath it.

Every recreational fad is just the idea of the skateboard built a different way. How many ways can one fly off the ground using a wheel-driven object that will eventually obey gravity and leave you with life-long scars?

Allthe clothing trends are just rehashed fabrics from the 60's and 70's slapped with a "retro" tag. Retro is another way of saying "we're all out of ideas."

Is the trend dead? Just look at Christmas 2002, which went down in history as the year without a "must have" toy. No Tickle-Me Elmo or robotic pet or Playstation 2 for parents to fight over in the aisles of Toys-r-Us.

All the action movies and kung-fu movies and films with fake British accents have been done. If they make another white-guy/black-guy buddy movie, nobody will notice. They will think it's the same Martin Lawrence movie they saw the last time. Every disaster has been re-created for the big screen. There's nothing left.

Of course, the entertainment industry will prove me wrong. Months from now there will be a new fad, a new product to buy that will spawn twenty like products within a weeks time. There will be a new band with a new sound and fifty other bands will rush to the stuido to recreate the sound. All the kids will be wearing the same t-shirts or hats or shoes that they will discard for next year's cool shirts and hats and shoes.

I wouldn't mind the trends so much if I was just prescient enough to cash in on them. But as long as I didn't think of them I still reserve the right to label all future trends, fads, phases and genres as crap.

programming note

The usual Saturday morning/afternoon content portion of this blog has been pre-empted by life outside the house and the start of Little League season.

Enjoy your day and ASV will return tonight with the snide commentary, boobie shots, antagonistic war talk, troll baiting, nude pictures of Michael Moore and mindless drivel that you have come to expect.

Now get outside and enjoy the start of spring.

Also, if you have been looking for Davezilla the past day or so, please note that he is experiencing a major crisis of the Evil ISP sort and will be back eventually.

March 28, 2003

what do you want to do tonight?

It's Friday. I've got the computer to myself.

What are you in the mood for?

UPDATE The Mother of All Headaches has stopped by for the evening. I'm going to try that thing they call sleep.

If it's war stuff you want, go hang out at Command-Post, which never sleeps.

If it's funny stuff you want (with some war thrown in) go read Treacher's postings for the past few days.

I think I slept with him in my dream last night. And Rick Leventhal was there.

Yea, I'm leaving.

rangel rhymes with strangle!

The thought has entered my mind quite frequently that Charles Rangel just may be an incredibly thoughtless jerk.

There's that saying that goes something like - Better to have people question whether you are an ass or not than to open your diseased mouth and remove all doubt.

Yea, that was heavily paraphrased.

Rangel removed all doubt.

bitchslap ted rall, volume 10

Obviously, Armed Forces bashing is the flavor of the week.

click for larger picture. image swiped from the asshat's website

Then again, this is old hat for Rall. I don't think he's had a fresh idea since September 2001.

UPDATE: Well, holy fuck. It just gets worse by the minute.

you're better off sending your kids to DeVry

And they call this higher education.

At an anti-war "teach-in" this week, a Columbia University professor called for the defeat of American forces in Iraq and said he would like to see "a million Mogadishus" -- a reference to the Somali city where American soldiers were ambushed, with 18 killed, in 1993.

"The only true heroes are those who find ways that help defeat the U.S. military," Nicholas De Genova, assistant professor of anthropology at Columbia University told the audience at Low Library Wednesday night. "I personally would like to see a million Mogadishus."

Commentary later. I'm going to go bang my head against the wall a couple of times, first.

i love the smell of putin in the morning

Putin calls for the war to be stopped.

Can you smell what the US is cooking?

That would be Putin's ass in that frying pan, sauteed with a couple of WMDs stamped "Made in Russia."

I can't believe I just used the phrase "what the U.S. is cooking."

Someone slap me.

buy! sell!

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on BlogShares" border=0 width=100 height=70/>

You can now buy shares of A Small Victory.

Sure, you won't be able to buy anything with the fake money you make off of me, but at least now when people call me a capitalist whore I can stand up proudly and say Yes, I am

The value of this blog is $17679.28, an outgoing link is worth $711.17. Your bill is in the mail.

I just bought five shares of Instapundit.

March 27, 2003

sticks and stones

A group of Vermont teen-agers threw rocks at a uniformed female Vermont National Guard sergeant last week, in the latest example of a service member facing hostility in the United States.

The teens blocked the sergeant as she went into a store and again on the way out, yelling obscenities at her along the way, Roosevelt said. The group also threw small stones at her car as she drove away, he added.

The sergeant said she believed the protesters had taken part in an anti-war demonstration in Montpelier that day. National Guard troops are often deployed to such events to help keep the peace.

"There were various profanities directed in her direction, along the line of '[expletive] murderer, [expletive] baby killer,'" Stirewalt said. "It culminated with some of the individuals throwing rocks at her, and as testament to her disciplined professionalism, she got in her car and left the area."

Murderer. Baby Killer.

This isn't just about the above low-life, ungrateful repugnant creatures who particpated in this display of idiocy. It's for all of you that think soldiers are baby killers. It's for all of you that call them murderers. It's for everyone who thinks that oil is the only reason we are in Iraq. It's for the cowards who hide behind placards and the loudmouths who degrade our armed forces while they enjoy the freedoms this country provides them. It's for everyone who thinks the United States Armed Forces are a group of bloodthirsty men and women hell bent on nothing but destruction and death and have no value for human life. It's for everyone who thinks we want to flatten Iraq without a care for the citizens of that country.

All images from this site; click for larger view

Here "an Iraqi child gestures to an American as other children look on, at a water distribution point in Umm Qasr, Iraq, Wednesday."

From left: Lt. Mark Day, Petty Officer Thomas Wagers, Cmdr. Robert Hinks, Lt. Cmdr. John Uecker, and Capt. John Perciballi work on an unidentifed, 2-year-old Iraqi boy, at Camp Viper, in southern Iraq on Wednesday.

A yound boy is all smiles after receiving water from US and British Civil Affairs troops in Umm Qsar, Iraq, on Wednesday. The water came from Kuwait in tankers.

The very same people who complain and cry that our soldiers are baby killers are never seen decrying Saddam Hussein as the same. There is no moral relativism at play here - Saddam and his army intentionally aim to kill and murder their own people, while we are there to rescue them from that madman. And yet, we are the killers. And our soldiers are degraded and insulted on their own soil.

Where do they learn the phrase "baby killer" from? Who teaches them these things? And who will they all turn to if war should ever come to our homes, on our land? Who will they turn to for protection and defense? The heroes of the left will not save them. They will be cowering under their beds like everyone else, waiting for one of our own baby killers and murderers to come save them.

yelling with my mouth shut

They wanted to shut down New York City today, but only 500 showed up. But they certainly were a lively bunch.

What in the world was going on here?

And what is that furry thing being pulled out of her ass?

An anti-war protester with her mouth taped sits in the middle of New York's Fifth Avenue blocking traffic Thursday, March 27, 2003. Anti-war groups blocked busy intersections Thursday and staged a 'die-in' to protest media and corporate 'profiteering from the war.' (AP Photo/Radcliffe Roye)


That and Justin Timberlake.

Talk to me boy
No disrespect, I don't mean no harm
Talk to me boy
I can't wait to have you in my arms
Talk to me boy
Hurry up cause you're taking too long
Talk to me boy
Better have you naked by the end of this song

So what did you come for
I came to dance with you
And you know that you don't want to hit the floor
I came to romance with you
You're searching for love forever more
It's time to take a chance
If love is here on the floor, girl

speaken du deutsch?

I do not translate well into German.

But hey, I am a Foundress.

Net diaries, which concern themselves with the Iraq war, encounter
large interest. Among the largest "be Blogs COMMAND post office" "ranks". The
Netzeitung spoke with the initiatorin.

Sense and purpose of "COMMAND post office" are it to collect as much as
possible messages to the Iraq war at a place in the Web are called it in
"mission the statement" of the Weblogs. At present approximately 20
persons from all world work free of charge for the project.

Foundress Michele Catalano, law employee from the US Federal State New
York, spoke with the Netzeitung about truth and untruth in Weblogs and the
speed of the InterNet, which traditional media can hardly still follow.

Netzeitung: : Mrs. Catalano, why have you "COMMAND post office" based?

Michele Catalano : When the war broke last week off, I began to set
every ten minutes of updates on-line to my private side, while I looked at
several TV channels at the same time.

I noticed then that many Blogger did. I wrote then a comment that
nevertheless perhaps we should open a community Web log, in order to
unite all the Postings. Later my Web log friend Alan, it wrote me ten minutes
such a server would put on.

Netzeitung: : How successfully is "COMMAND post office" up to now?

Catalano: On the first day we had already 7000 hits. In the meantime we
are daily with 100.000 visitors. The numbers continue to rise.

Netzeitung: : Which advantages have Weblogs of their opinion to
opposite traditional intelligence services?

Catalano: There are no editorial restrictions, that is probably the
most important. Weblogs are also faster updated than the new services - if
CNN the newest from the Iraq finally on its side places, had we the same
history frequently 20 minutes before or still in former times. On COMMAND post
office we have at least 20 people from the whole world, those at each
time a Myriade of sources to sight and then News post.

Netzeitung: : Do you think that Weblogs can be truthful in the case of
the Iraq war as some professional message offer? Are they it?

Catalano: Definitely. We do not hold back anything. Weblogs do not have
to arouse the impression, them are independent. Although COMMAND post
office deviates from because it is a strict News collection. (we have however
also a comment side.) Weblogs altogether offer a more honest, rauere aspect
on current events.

Netzeitung: : The US television was criticized to censor information
about the war. Do the citizens use now the Weblogs, in order to get a better

Catalano: At least partly. They go generally more into the InterNet. If
you want to really see the pictures, the CNN or other Mainstream media
censored [ Catalano means in this case photographs dead and caught US soldiers, note D talks ], goes it simply on the homepage von Al Dschasira. Afterwards they come into the Weblogs, in order to catch up the most diverse opinions over it - and in this case also whole rage.

Netzeitung: : Which motivation do you and your fellow combatants have
to lead the recruiting log?

Catalano: We live in a time, in which the people want their message
fast. They do not want to wait no more. Particularly with this war, which
will transfer into real time in the television. Most do not have cable
television in the office, for it however InterNet. And if the Mainstream Newssites
is slow then and still the servers under the load of millions accesses
break down, a recruiting log brings such as COMMANDS the message to post
office faster.

Netzeitung: : Who are your authors?

Catalano: We can cover all time belts with our authors. The Web log
runs 24 hours with messages, which do not only come from the USA, but also from countries such as Australia, New Zealand, Great Britain, Kuwait and
Israel. We have professors, lawyers, housewives, teachers and student thereby, even arms specialist. We are not the media, we are the people.

Ben swan placed the questions

mad props: the phrase that pays

Keith says I owe him mad props and he's right.

In response to my challenge yesterday to make a playlist of happy songs, Keith wins hands down.

I will forward this list to the BBC so they can be sure to keep everyone shiny and happy and pretending that there isn't a war waging. Ostriches rule!

(Digging out my Saturday Morning Cartoon covers CD)

“Keep Fishin’” - Weezer
“Up All Night” - Unwritten Law
“Acquiesce” - Oasis
“A Praise Chorus” - Jimmy Eat World
“In This Diary” - The Ataris
“As Good As It Gets” - Grand Theft Audio
“Party Hard” - Andrew W.K.
“We’re Going to Be Friends” - White Stripes
“Girlfriend” - Matthew Sweet
“The Globe” - Big Audio Dynamite

And, in case you want to toss a few out of that list, here’s a couple of alternates:

“First Date” - Blink 182
“Short Skirt/Long Jacket” - Cake
“Fire Woman” - The Cult
“I Love You Period” - Dan Baird (admittedly more of a Southern rock song...)
“Hits From the Bong” - Cypress Hill (because pot is one HELL of a mood elevator)
“Love Rollercoaster” - the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ cover
“Walk This Way” - either Aerosmith or the version with Run-D.M.C.
“FNT” - Semisonic
“Go Speed Racer Go” - Sponge’s cover
“Panama” - Van Halen (admittedly, also not so much an alternative song...)

laugh riot

Here's a gift in return for my making you think of Mark Morford:

Small World: A Tiny Little Weblog in Words and Pictures.

Chris Muir's Day by Day

Guest Week at Achewood

Penny Arcade with the best payoff line ever.

Feel free to add your favorite online comics in the comments. Because we all need a little funny stuff in our lives.

UPDATE: How did I miss the Cumbrella yesterday? Jesus, that should have been my moment of Zen.

welcome back, morford

I almost missed Mark Morford while he was on vacation. He's back.

He spent some time off the coast of Hawaii watching humpback whales. And what did Mark take away from all this?

Well, of course. Bush is dumb, we are all dumb, everyone is going to die and civilization will lie in ruins because Rumsfeld's press conferences are using some kind of mystery laser beam to shrink our brain cells.

This last paragraph will go down in my own personal history as one of the most absurd things to ever appear in print:

They are a reminder. No matter how much we think we know, no matter how many die as a result of Shrub's vicious war, no matter what sort of self-righteous good we think we're ramming down everyone's throat, we are, quite simply, raging deeper into ignorance. We know nothing. And the worst part is, we seem to be learning less with every warhead, every Rummy press conference, every dust-choked reporter and dead soldier. The whales know this. Maybe they're just waving goodbye.

I think he just plaigarized some ten year old girl's school essay with those final two lines.

Oh, how I missed you, Mark. Welcome back.

March 26, 2003

the eagle has landed

I'm sorry for the lack of any real content here lately. I'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment.

I will, however, leave you with this.

When Patriotism goes bad:


That's just...wrong.

ahhh zen

click for large

That's Carol, the co-founder of TroopTrax and her sons in the Worcester (MA) Telegraph & Gazette, posing for a picture after Carol was interviewed about TroopTrax.

How cute are those kids?

Oh, Carol is cute, too.

breathe in. breathe out.

I need a moment of zen.

shiny happy music

Happy, happy, happy. happy talk.

Whatever makes you happy.

Sure, there's a war going on. But we must be happy! We must pretend the bombs don't exist and the explosions are a figment of our imagination.

At least that's what MTV and British radio stations propose.

Though images of war are dominating television screens, one channel is not having it. The day after the war in Iraq started, a memo was distributed through the offices of MTV Europe by its broadcast standards department.

In the memo, Mark Sunderland, one of the department's managers, recommends that music videos depicting "war, soldiers, war planes, bombs, missiles, riots and social unrest, executions" and "other obviously sensitive material" not be shown on MTV in Britain and elsewhere in Europe until further notice.

And then there's this:

Commercial radio stations are playing inoffensive songs, so as not to upset listeners or drive away advertisers, and the BBC has told producers to play music with a “light, melodic” feel before and after news bulletins, especially when the reports are likely to detail coalition casualties.

Think happy thoughts, everyone.

Maybe if we all sing "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" rainbows will appear in the sky.

Maybe if we ban all references to the war from our lives, it will cease to exist.

Maybe not.

We are all doomed to a never-ending loop of REM's Shiny Happy People.

I dare you to come up with a listenable playlist of 10 happy, non-offensive songs that don't pertain in any way to war, soldiers, dying, bombs, explosions, aaron brown or dead animals.

Iran away

Dave's got an... interesting perspective of the Gulf to share over on Acerbia.


Actually, two Public Service Announcements for the price of one:

1. If upon standing up after going to the bathroom you hear a clunking sound, it is wise to not flush the toilet bowl.

2. If you keep your cell phone in your back pocket, it is certain that at some point, it will fall into the toilet bowl.

They don't give you illustrations for that on ready.gov.

Q and A

I have a few questions.

After seeing everything happening in Iraq right now, why would you still insist we should not be using force to take that regime out?

And why would you say that George Bush is the greatest threat to the world after seeing what Saddam is capable of?

Why would you protest against Bush and his administration for liberating the Iraqi people and not protest against the Iraq regime itself?

Even if, for argument sake, it was all about the oil, wouldn't the fact that we are bringing aid and liberation to the people of Iraq make this a good thing we are doing?

Do you think that the Bush, or any past president for that matter, would hide his cohorts in day care centers, hospitals and residential homes?

Do you think they would store ammunition in a hospital?

Do you think they would gleefully kill prisoners of war and put the tape on tv?

Do you think they would use women and children as shields?

Did you answer no to any of those questions?

Then why? Why would you protest so hard against this when it is obvious that the conditions the Iraqi people were living under are conditions you would not survive ten minutes in?

If you were living under that kind of vile, murderous dictatorship, would you not want someone to come in and save you?

How would you feel if this country were run like Iraq, if Saddam was your leader and when other countries came in to help you - even if it was with force - you heard that people from that country were protesting that action?

Do you honestly think - after seeing what is happening in Iraq right now - that the people of Iraq could really have staged their own uprising?

Do you really believe that everything the American media is showing you is a lie and everything you see on al Jazeera is the truth?

Do you not think the Iraqi regime is capable of propaganda?

What, to you, is the price of freedom? Or do you think freedom comes with no price at all?

March 25, 2003

ted rall is number 2!!*

Thanks to NC for pointing me towards The 50 Most Loathesome New Yorkers.

He doesn't quite make it to number one, but I think number two is quite an honor anyhow.

Congratulations, Ted Rall! You must be so proud, finishing ahead of Michael Moore like that.

Next year, I will start a campaign to get you to number one Ted. You deserve it.

Too bad there's no stipend or some kind of monetary award that goes with this. If so, we could have had the New York Press send it to Danny.

*Yes, that was intended as grade-school bathroom humor.

coming soon to a theater near you

A Moroccan publication accused the government Monday of providing unusual assistance to U.S. troops fighting in Iraq by offering them 2,000 monkeys trained in detonating land mines.


Forget precision bombs, unmanned spy-planes and high-tech weaponry, the U.S. army is about to unveil its most unlikely mine detector -- all the way from San Diego, California, the Atlantic Bottle-Nosed Dolphin.

I sense a rivalry in the making. The hell with that, I see a movie in the making.

Dolphins v. Monkeys. Think West Side Story with with explosions.

Someone get me casting!

moral relativism

Just a note to certain people:

When engaging in moral relativism, don't attempt to compare the prisoners at Gitmo to the POWs killed this past week in Iraq.

When you see a tape of an American soldier gleefully killing a Gitmo detainee, broadcast on American tv for all to see and applaud like some deranged call to arms, then talk to me.

Until then, shut it.

UPDATE: In response to some comments, The Truth About Gitmo from Damian Penny.

Gitmo is on its way to becoming an extension of Godwin's Law.

UPDATE (3/26):

Gitmo detainees speak:

''The conditions were even better than our homes. We were given three meals a day -- eggs in the morning and meat twice a day; facilities to wash, and if we didn't wash, they'd wash us; and there was even entertainment with video games,'' said Sirajuddin, 24, a taxi driver from Kandahar, the birthplace of the Taliban. He said he was forcibly conscripted by the militia and captured by a notorious warlord, General Abdul Rashid Dostum, who ''sold us to the US.''

more moore

Jim has all the Michael Moore news that's fit to print. He skewers him so well.

I will do my part to contribute to Michael Moore madness with this link, an interview with The Awful One after the Oscars. Watch if you must, but wear your Idiocy Shield.

link via Chris Pirillo, who has finally agreed to send me his wife in exchange for some Pokemon games

Did I say I was going on a full hiatus? No, I didn't. So stop looking at me like that.

a year in the life

Having a weblog means having a living, breathing record of your life. It differs from a diary in that I can look at what I wrote on a certain date and see who was here, who left a comment. I can immediately see who has come and gone from my life in the span between then and now.

I'll probably be doing a lot of repeat essays in the next few weeks as my energies are focused elsewhere.

One year ago today I wrote this piece. It still stands, perhaps even more so now.

summer of 12

12 then and 12 now are worlds apart.

12 then was blissful ignorance.

12 now is the weight of the world.

When I was 12 my summer days were spent barefoot in my backyard, alternating between the pool and the sprinkler and the blanket on the lawn. I left the backyard only when I heard the tinny ringing of the ice-cream truck. I would run out to the street, hopping like mad from one foot to the other in an effort to not feel the full scorch of the burning blacktop. Al the ice-cream man would hurry us along in a heavy accent. Sometimes we understood him and sometimes we didn't. And sometimes Al was in a talktative mood and he would show us the numbers tattooed on his arm. We would shrug, not really knowing what the story was. We couldn't understand his accent, and even if we did, it seemed like too heavy a story to carry with our melting cones.

Today, 12 means you have read at least three historical fiction stories about the Holocaust. 12 means you would know what the numbers on Al's arm were.

When I was 12 my summer nights were spent in the street, playing kickball with my cousins. Sometimes we played kick-the-can and we would run through the neighbors yards, hiding in their shrubbery and under their porches. We played until we were too tired to run, and then we would walk down to the candy store to buy soda and snacks.

Today, 12 means you can't play in the street because there are too many cars. 12 means your neighbor's lawn is off limits because it was just sprayed with some chemical to make their grass grow greener. 12 means you can't walk to the store at night, because there are too many strangers.

When I was 12 we went to the beach and for family drives and spent leisurely days at the park. We woke up late and watched morning tv in our pajamas until we were shooed outside. Our days were long and unstructured and lazy.

Today's 12 means summer camp or summer school and getting up with the birds. It is structure and bus rides just like the rest of the year. Family drives and trips to the beach are scheduled events. Time is managed. Soccer, baseball, dance, enrichment programs, swim lessons.

When I was 12 I wasn't afraid of the world. Current events in school meant local news, fluff stories, a few science-related pieces. Health lessons centered around hygiene and grooming. Drug education was non-existent. Learning about the environment meant paying attention to don't litter signs.

Today's 12 is frightening. Current events are happening in their own backyard. War and terrorism are part of the daily venacular. Health lessons include segments on AIDS and condoms and learning how to say no. Drug education is imperative. Today's 6th graders know about ozone layers and recycling and toxins in the water.

Today's 12 is better educated than I was. They are more informed. They are better prepared. But they are not the 12 of carefree childhood and innocence. They are somehow older, wiser and a bit more cynical than I ever knew at 12.

Perhaps today's 12 is more prepared to deal with the world than the 12 year olds of my day were. But I still have to lament that their childhood is almost over at an age when it should be in its prime.

look ma, I'm not famous!


Leave it to the New York Times.

They talk to me for half an hour, I give the woman some great observations on the media, the war and weblogs and when the story gets to print I come off like a bored housewife.

She didn't even put the URL to Command Post in.

My fifteen minutes of fame is more like ten seconds of bemusement.

March 24, 2003

commercial break

I'll be taking a sort-of hiatus for the rest of the week or so, maybe longer. Not a full-on hiatus, just a maybe-post-once-a-day-instead-of-48-times-a-day hiatus. I mean, someone has to bitchslap Ted Rall and I refuse to give that job up.

Or maybe I'll just write how nice it is to be back in Little League season, with Saturdays spent at the field , or how the days are getting longer and warmer and my lungs ache for some of that fresh air.

You can still find me at Command Post (which is eating up most of my alloted online time) and Raising Hell.

See ya when I ping ya.

P.S. Hug the fuck out of 'em Phillipe!

P.P.S YAY ASPARAGIRL!! You go, girl!


The last in the series over at Acerbia unless we go and tell him we want more, just like the Star Trek fans did back in the 70's. Only without the pointed ears and the sad pyjama costumes.

this just in...

People suck.

Please ignore Dave (see below), I don't know who let him out of his cage today, but it wasn't me. I think he ties with Laurence for "Most Likely to Leave a Weird Post in Your Blog" award.

I'm really not happy being without a tv or radio today.

I'm really not happy that for some reason two posts I previously made not only did not show up on the site, but completely disappeared from the edit screen.

I'm really not happy about the email I received from some loony leftist who promised me that there would be a terrorist attack in the NY/Long Island area before Thursday, perpetuated by our own government so they can impose martial law to stop the protesters from shutting down the city on Thursday. I wrote back one sentence: Don't flatter yourself.

I'm not happy for a lot of reasons, the least of which being I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages and part of it being that people are generally being great big assclowns in my comments and part of it because Chris turned down my offer of all my old Gameboy cartridges in exchange for his wife, Gretchen.

I want my Fox TV. Hell, I would even take Al Jazeera at this point.

Anyone know how to get past a media firewall?

playing nice: something besides war to do on your monday

You all are pissing me off.

No matter what I write about, it gets turned into an argument in the comments. I posted a picture of waving kitties last night and I had to delete three comments!

It's Monday and I'm not going to take that crap anymore. So I'll make you a deal. I'll keep my warblogging over here, if you keep your argumentive war comments out of this post, ok?

I'm going to make this real easy for you, by repeating something I did last year, at the request of a reader whose email I lost but whom I will give credit to if she just raises her hand.

It was called "I Used To Believe," and it was a fun post and a pleasure to read the comments. So we are going to spend Monday on that, and the first person who writes "I used to believe in a world without war" or anything to do with Bush, Iraq or the sort, will get their ass kicked and then will be blamed by everyone when I start warblogging over here again. Got it?

Proceed to the rest of the entry and don't piss me off. Thank you.

Originally posted on October 13, 2002:

and babies come from the garden

Funny I should come across this site, I Used to Believe, just days after I had a conversation at work about that very thing.

When I look back at the things I used to believe when I was a child, I finally realize why I am such a cynic and a skeptic. Everything I once thought was the truth was either a lie or some ridiculous notion made up in my head.

When I was a wee, wee child, I thought that there were tiny musicians who lived inside the stereo speakers and played songs for us. As I got a little older, I realized how silly this was. So I then convinced myself that the bands that were playing on the radio were actually at the radio station, playing the songs live. It boggled my mind when I tried to figure out how they could get from one radio station to another so fast. Shortly after that, I received my first record player and figured out that David Cassidy had somehow stuck his voice on that piece of black vinyl and he was not, to my dissapointment, inside my speakers or in my house.

I believed that God had nothing to do all day but sit up on a cloud with a notebook and pen, recording every single one of my misdeeds. At night, he would read the list off to my mother so she could punish me accordingly. How else would my mother have known that it was me who spilled her bingo chips down the toilet bowl?

I believed that God's punishments were always of the physical nature. A cold sore, especially one on my tongue, was a punishment for lying or saying a bad word. If I fell and scraped my knee or had some other minor injury, it was because I did something to offend God.

I believed if I stepped on a crack I would indeed break my mother's back.

I believed that if I stepped on an ant, it would rain.

I believed that somewhere, in some strange country, it really did rain cats and dogs. Then I took that one step further and figured that's where cats and dogs came from and there was someone at the pet adoption place that would watch the weather in that strange country and when it rained there, he would go and collect the cats and dogs in a big bucket and bring them back here to sell to kids.

I believed that thunder was the angels bowling and lightning happened when one of the angels got a strike. I never believed that rain was God crying, but I did believe my neighbor Frankie when he told me that rain was God peeing.

I believed that when a woman wanted a baby, all she had to do was fill out an application at the hospital and they would give her a pill that made a baby grow in her belly. I believed that Frankie was lying when he told me that babies came out of a woman's vagina. I even laughed at him.

I believed that if I got a splinter and didn't take it out right away, it would travel in my blood right to my heart and pierce it.

I would never say that "now I lay me down to sleep" prayer because I believed it was like asking for death.

I believed that when you drove past a cemetery, you had to hold your breath or the living dead would come and get you.

I once believed that I could use a rock in the middle of a lake at Bear Mountain to sail to the Statue of Liberty. Of course, that had to do with more with drugs than with reality.

I used to believe that a person was alloted only so many words they could speak out loud in their lifetime and I would probably run out of words before I died. That's when I began writing my thoughts down instead of speaking them.

I used to believe my action figures came alive at night. Oh, I still do.

I used to believe that 40 was old.

What did you believe?

March 23, 2003

michael moore is a big fat asshat!

Key words to his acceptance speech:

Fictitious president.

He pulled a Ted Rall and went for the "but he wasn't elected" rant.

How 2001 of him.

And they booed him. The audience either booed, rolled their eyes or said nothing.

Fuck you, Michael Moore, you opportunstic fat freaky fucker.



And just so you know, Kevin is blogging the Oscars and he's really funny and entertaining, as opposed to the Oscars themselves, which are droll and deadly boring, much like Greta on Fox right now.

I'm going to bed. I'm still burnt. Burned.


i should have gone to bed

I'm in a mood. One of those moods. You know, the kind of mood when you've had too much tequila and not enough sleep and you are overstimulated and underfed?

Yea, one of those "I love you, man" moods.

I love this chick.

well this isn't going to help

According to Indymedia (where I found this image) America has declared war on Kevin Parrot!

What should we do??

maybe this will help

Looking for the cute waving kitties that were here?

I killed them.

mmmm kitty sandwich.


I think I'm burned out.



Will everyone who is linking Command Post please change your links to this URL? Thank you.


To the "peace" activists and anti-war protesters:

You claim not to be anti-American, yet these pictures were taken from the NYC protest yesterday. Photos and moments just like this were repeated throughout the world yesterday and for many days and months before.

The regime you did not want us to take out has now violated the Geneva convention. They have taken troops hostage and killed them.

Those soldiers were out there fighting for a free world. They were fighting so people everywhere can have a right like you do to burn flags and speak out without fear of retribution.

They have been killed by the enemy. The enemy that the human shields wanted to protect. The enemy that Sean Penn visited, the enemy that - by marching against this war - you march for.

Most of you - not all of you by any stretch - should hang your heads in shame right now. While you are out smashing mailboxes and crying about your peanut butter sandwiches in jail, while you are pissed off because your television show was pre-empted by war coverage and while you bitch and moan about tightened security, while you burn flags and tell the children of soldiers that their parents are murderers, some of those very soldiers were being murdered by the people you wish to leave in charge in Iraq.

Do you see what kind of people we are dealing with now? Do you honestly think that the people of Iraq want to be lead by such inhumane, vile people?

Think about this next time you burn a flag. Think about this next time you smash a window for your cause.


what will you wear to the Oscars?

Some will wear ribbons. Some will sport peace signs. Others will be wearing slices of duct tape.

Yes, duct tape.

I could not make this shit up.

thanks to the indespensible Robyn for this


Look! The newest Pokemon is here!

Newsday photo/Mayita Mendez

Evolves into the venomoth

This pokemon can be found wherever protesters gather. It's special power is sprinkling magic fairy dust all over the world so we can live in peace and harmony with ponies and lollipops for everyone. When provoked into a fight, it can be heard chanting "it's all about the oiiiiilllll!"

exploit your children well

At yesterday's NYC protest:

Jonathan Charles, 8, a third-grader at PS 132 in Springfield Gardens, carried a red felt sign that said simply "Pray" and marched alongside classmates and their parents.

"It's not good to -- what's that big word? -- assassinate someone," Jonathan said. "It's not good to make other people cry."

Obviously, the kid had been coached.

Way to brainwash your children. Great job on that.

I wonder if, when the parents told him about making kid cry, they told little Jonathan about all the little children that Saddam made cry.

Probably not.

i think drudge has lost it

Drudge has this huge headline on his site right now:


It's in giant size bold font.

My response to this is: So what?

While I may get pissed at stars who use their screen time to spout rhetoric, I have no problem with them partying. Are we all supposed to stop in tracks, hold our breath and wait for the war to end?

I went to McDonald's yesterday. I took my son to Little League practice. I watched a really stupid movie, I drank some tequila and I laughed it up in a chat room with others from Command Post.

Today I might even go wash my car and - gasp! - go out to eat and watch some basketball!

Yes, there is a war waging. I should know, I spend a good portion of my day covering it. But I have a free life to live, which I am very grateful for. I just don't think the fact that celebrities are eating and drinking and receiving awards - shallow as they may have behaved at the podium - warrants a super-sized Headline of Awe.

oh, canada! (this is a good post, not a bad one)

After pointing out that Ugly Canadian yesterday, I owe it to all my Canadian friends to point out this site as well:

Canadian Friends of America.

Canadian Friends of America was started as an ad-hoc campaign against increasing anti-American sentiments in Canadian public debate. It is inspired by Norwegian Friends of America. We wish to support the good bi-lateral relationship between Canada and the USA by highlighting the political and historical kinship between our two nations.

Nicely done.

via I.P.

what really happened

What you saw on tv:

Director Michael Moore is seen wearing an anti-Iraqi war pin at the 2003 IFP Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, California, March 22, 2003. Moore accepted the award for Best Documentary for the film 'Bowling for Columbine.' REUTERS/Molly Riley

What really happened:


Krispy Kreme spokesman Michael Moore is seen wearing a pro-donut pin at the 2003 ISP Independent Snack Awards in Santa Monica, California, March 22, 2003. Moore accepted the award for Best Documentary for the film 'I am a Big Fat Unwashed Hair Man Who Passes Lies Off as Facts and Eats Too Many Donuts.' REUTERS/Molly Riley/NC

wait, i get it! i get it!

photo from indymedia.org

Democracy = Death!!

Silly me. Here I was thinking that Saddam Hussein's regime was the one that brought death when all along it was good, old-fashioned democracy that's been killing people all these years.

The things you can learn from peacenicks.

this is not the dixie chicks

photo from indymedia.org

Ok. Their bellies say "this is what democracy looks like."

Right. In a democracy girls can wear belly shirts and hip huggers and something across your chest to make your boobs look like balloons.

And after we get through with Iraq, the women there will be able to do the same, although I bet they will have better taste and more decorum than to walk around looking like these three little piggies.

Anyhow, I guess I just don't get their point.

March 22, 2003

i could have saved you the trip over there

Another human shield gets hit in the head with a reality brick:

We just sat, listening, our mouths open wide. Jake, one of the others, just kept saying, "Oh my God" as the driver described the horrors of the regime. Jake was so shocked at how naive he had been. We all were. It hadn't occurred to anyone that the Iraqis might actually be pro-war.

The driver's most emphatic statement was: "All Iraqi people want this war." He seemed convinced that civilian casualties would be small; he had such enormous faith in the American war machine to follow through on its promises. Certainly more faith than any of us had.

Perhaps the most crushing thing we learned was that most ordinary Iraqis thought Saddam Hussein had paid us to come to protest in Iraq. Although we explained that this was categorically not the case, I don't think he believed us. Later he asked me: "Really, how much did Saddam pay you to come?"

Now if only he would bring his message to the streets of San Francisco.

this is too much fun

Chronicle photo by Brant Ward

should i stop now?

it wasn't even jiffy brand peanut butter!

Everyone take out your violins.

Now, play.

Anti-war protesters emerged tired, hungry and, in some cases, tearful Friday after being held overnight in a San Francisco jail.

We understand that we were not on vacation, but it was unacceptable the way we were treated," said a protester who gave her name as Pancetta, 24, of Berkeley.

Overnight, some protesters slept fitfully on the ground in small holding cells that housed 25 each. Others slept on mats with blankets in a gymnasium.

Some women were addressed by deputies as "little girl" or "hon," one protester said.

Can you see my heart bleeding? Perhaps they expected accomodations more like Saddam's palace?

They griped that their requests for water or food were ignored or delayed for hours. When they did get fed, they got cheese or peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches that didn't taste great.

Oh, my! No steak dinner? No Waldorf salad with a nice chianti? No comfy beds with mints on the pillows? You would think it was some kind of.........prison!

Here's an idea, idiots: Next time you get the urge to grab a policeman's baton or block traffic or deface public property, think about those yucky peanut butter sandwiches.

Better yet, maybe they should start protesting for better quality cheese in the state prisons. I can see it now - NO KRAFT, NO PEACE!

i'm all the man you need

I think all this watching and covering the war has hiked up my testosterone level.

I'm in my underwear, drinking a beer and listening to Pantera.

I've got basketball on one tv and war on another.

I'm cursing like a truck driver.

I just sent Justin in the kitchen to make me some pie, bitch.

If I had balls, I'd be scratching them.

At least my underwear is pink.

the children!!!!

Look! Look how those horrible soldiers are treating the children of Iraq! Loook at all those dead babies!


Children welcome members of the British 2nd Royal Tank Regiment as they arrive in Basra, southern Iraq (AP Photo/Brian Roberts/ News of the World/Pool)

So, what are those people protesting again?

BTRD, pt. 14


It's Bitchslap Ted Rall Day (vol. 14) at Kevin's place.

don't forget to pack your gas bombs for the peaceful protest

More peace protesters opposing violence:


A riot police officer is engulfed in flames after a gasoline bomb was thrown at his feet during an anti-war demonstration outside the U.S. Embassy in Athens on Friday, March 21, 2003. (AP Photo/Thanassis Stavrakis)


photo via Yahoo, via NC

I don't get it.

Saddam = peace?
War kills but Saddam doesn't?

Nope, I don't get it.

liar liar pants on fire

At today's New York protests:

Among those marching were U.S. Rep Charles Rangel, D-N.Y., singer Patti Smith, and actors Roy Scheider, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee. Rangel said the marchers were anything but unpatriotic.

“We support the troops, but we do not support the president,” Rangel said.

Yet he does not support the troops enough to vote in favor of a resolution doing just that.

a slice of home in kuwait


One young Marine from Plainview, LI actually took me to another street in their tent city, marked with a wooden sign that reads: "Flatbush Avenue." It was great!

asshat roundup #1

This is going to be a banner day.

First up, there's this:

Patton Museum hit by vandalism (reg. required)

Employees at the General Patton Memorial Museum arrived at work Thursday morning to find anti-American, anti-war and pro-Iraqi graffiti on military tanks, a Christian altar and a memorial plaque.

"No War," in more than foot-tall letters, was scrawled on a wall surrounding a statue of Gen. George S. Patton..."

The vandals used the Arab word for God several times, misspelling it each time: "Alla" instead of "Allah."

"Alla is God," they wrote in block letters on the front of one tank. On one side of the same tank they wrote "America is evil," and "Iraq will win" on the other side.

Salam Al-Marayati, executive director of the Muslim Public Affairs Council in Los Angeles, said it could not have been Muslims who did the defacing.

"Every Muslim knows Allah is spelled A-L-L-A-H," he said. Muslims say, "Allah is the one God," not "Allah is God," he added.

"That's somebody trying to frame Muslims," Al-Marayati said.

The vandals also sprayed paint in an unrecognizable pattern over a bronze plaque commemorating five local Medal of Honor recipients.

Granted, the people who did this are probably not the typical war protesters. But this is indicative of the kind of people the anti-war faction is attracting with their latest round of "civil disobedience."


You know what they say about birds of a feather:

In the Gaza Strip, Saddam sells.

Palestinians crammed Tareq Abu Daya's shop on Saturday to buy Iraqi flags, glossy pictures of Saddam Hussein, T-shirts and American flags to set ablaze at a fervent demonstration against the US-led strike in Iraq.

"This is the only thing I can do to show my support to this man (Saddam) and his nation," said Marwan Musallam, a 35-year-old taxi driver who bought two small Iraqi flags at Abu Daya's shop. "Saddam is the only Arab leader to support the Palestinians."

The Iraqi leader is popular in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, partly because of the more than $35 million he has doled out to Palestinian families who have had relatives killed in the armed uprising with Israelis.

Translate: Saddam has paid off suicide bombers. To show their thanks for Saddam's support of terrorism and brutal murder of innocent women and children, the Palestinian are worshiping the sadistic, tyrannical near-dead dictator.

still here

Nice juxtaposition.

As has been the usual, I will do most of my heavy warblogging over at the command center, and I'll stick to beating down the protesters and japanese baseball porn here.

the money shot

"If you ejaculate and the semen travels 50 centimeters or more, we'll award a 3,000 yen discount ticket. Going 70 centimeters or more will earn 5,000 yen off."


The war coverage drinking game.

Is it too early to play?

the safe haven of long island

New York City is going to be a madhouse today. I have a really bad feeling about the way these "peace" protests are going to turn out.

All New York City bloggers are welcome to escape the madness and come hang out on Long Island with me, where the kids are too lazy, spoiled and apathetic to protest anything except lack of parking spaces at their high school.

irony, thy name is peace

The anti-war protesters are armed for a war.

I had no idea that molotov cocktails were de rigueur for peace protests.

March 21, 2003

merry christmas, chirac!

I'm going to pick one up for him:

Saddam has a little secret. He is anatomically correct both in his fly-zone and no-fly-zone. The "interactive" Patriot Missile fits quite snugly up his "no-fly-zone" (if you catch our drift) and if you ram it up there hard enough, he will play "God Bless America."



my new favorite word

furphy n.(pl.furphies) 1 a false report or rumour. 2 an absurd story. •adj.(furphier, furphiest) absurdly false, unbelievable: that’s the furphiest bit of news I ever heard

If you're looking for the warblogging, I'm over here.

good stuff

These Boots Are Made For Walking:

Operation Iraqi Freedom - The Video.

This gets the Small Victory Seal of Approval.

From Mr. usr/bin/geek via Chris "Bomb Pop" Pirillo.

Watch it and link it.


time to loosen up

I've lowered the volume on the television. I loaded up the winamp. Playlist is in the sidebar.

Feel free to make fun of my selections as I get drunk and dance around the living room.

Too bad you can't see this.


We've been on pins and needles waiting for this war to start for so long. When it did start, I felt a heaviness in my heart because I knew that people would be dying. We have to avert our eyes from the bombs and fires once in a while to look at the other images of this war. Yes, their are casualties, but there are also bright moments that make the fears and angst worth it.

When I see the photos of children sharing candy with soldiers, of Iraqis cheering the arrival of marines or tearing down posters of Saddam Hussein, I cry. It is an amazing thing to witness, the freeing of a people. There will be no more torture, no acid baths, no fear of human shredders, children's prisons or rape used as a weapon.

The children of Iraq have a chance to grow up free. Their childhood will be vastly different than that of their parents.

The people of Iraq are glad. They are happy. Right now, their world may be filled with the sounds of war, but they know what will happen when the war ends. Their world will change for the better.

Who would deny them that? Who would stand up and say that we shouldn't be there, that this war is not just? Is it not just to give a future generation of Iraqis a chance to taste the freedom that we all take for granted? Is it not just to clean the air of the stench of fear? Is it not just to secure a life for the people of Iraq the likes of which they have only dreamed of?

Look at the images available on every news site. Look at the children running towards the soldiers. Look at the people tearing down posters of Saddam. Look at the women on their knees in thanks and prayer.

I dare you not to end up with tears in your eyes.

We are witnessing history and it's a good history. It's a just history.

once a dick, always a dick

From NY Indymedia:

The former Lemonheads frontman attacked the president of the USA. He sayd he want to "cut Bush's dick off and shove it up his arse"

Evan Dando was performing yesterday an acoustic gig at HMV Oxford Circus in London for launching of his new album 'Baby I'm Bored'.

In his attack he personally named Bush, he declared that he hated him and that he "loved his country. That guy is trying to kill us."

I envision Evan Dando sitting in his dank apartment, wondering how the hell he can get himself back in the news seeing as that his career tanked years ago.

This probably wasn't it.


Look, it's an asshat!

my god, what idiots

As war began in Iraq, Pierre Frik feared he might be targeted by zealots because of his Middle Eastern background.

Frik never imagined he'd be targeted because of his Central Valley chain of dry cleaning stores, French Cleaners. He just picked the name on a whim and made the Eiffel Tower the stores' logo.

Which just proves that asshats exist on all sides of the equation.

Hey, look at me, I'm drinking French wine! Set me on fire!

My head is going to explode before this day is over.

via joanne jacobs

almost too easy

Making fun of Helen Thomas is so much fun, it should be illegal.

i'm getting really tired of the denial

To the asshat who left her/his idiotic pawprint in the comments of this post:

Go here. Watch the video. Wait for the part at 1:25.

And then go fuck yourself.

gratuitous link because i really like the guy not because he offered me money

I can't be sure, but I think Rob is either stalking James Lileks or planning on taking him hostage.

the law of news watching

When you spend all day listening to explosions on tv and you go outside and it suddenly starts thundering, you will jump out of your skin.

poor ronnie

Ronald McDonald has had a very rough week. He was held up, hung and now this.


via my supplier, robyn

look at this

An Iraqi woman welcomes U.S. Marines, as soldiers enter the southern border city of Safwan, Friday, March 21, 2003. The white flag on the car for safety reasons. (AP Photo/Laurent Rebours)

Is anyone out in far-left land seeing these pictures, or are they all too busy vomiting in the streets and claiming that the Iraqis don't want us there?

link via robyn


What do you do if you're throwing a party for self-centered celebrities on Oscar night and there is a war on?

I mean, what celebrity worth their name would want to be seen in public during a war partying it up and grinning for the cameras?

So you do what Vanity Fair did for its party. You ban the press.

And then you claim you did that because you want to make sure the party is private, therefore safe and terrorist free.

But we know the real reason is the stars want to drink themselves into oblivion, get half-naked, dance on the tables and roll around in their millions without the public knowing that their idols really don't give a shit about war, peace or anything but themselves.

Thanks for the link, Rob.

Just because:

Mr. Bungle, Vanity Fair

You're not human
You're a miracle
A preacher with an animal's face

In your sexy
Neon smokescreen
Lie the supersalesmen of vanity

Even your shadow worships you
In your jungle solitude

With the orgies of the sacrament
And the seal of flagellants

God saves those who save their skin
From the bondage that we're in

I'm elated
I could cut you
And remove the sheath of your ignorance

Bless the eunuch
And the skoptsi
Will you hurt me now and make a million?
Say cheese, baby
We all love you
But it's a cheap world and you don't exist...

Slit the fabric of the right now
Spread your legs and wear the crown

Tell me how long, lord, how long?
Till I get my beauty sleep?

Now the hourglass is empty
The moment of my de-sexing

Cut it
Cut it
Cut this cancer from my soul

Now that I've made it...
I'm finally naked...

photo time

I'm trying to make a collage of all the uplifting pictures from scenes in Iraq. If you see any, leave a URL.

today's special is link soup

Must be something in the air today. I've received at least ten requests to be linked or mentioned and I'm honoring them all because I am benevolent like that.

So go on over here and take part in a war poll.


Thank you, NC.


this has been a parody of today's Ted Rall strip and is thus protected under some law.

warblogging with style

If this war had an ass, Rupert Murdoch would be vigorously smacking it right now.

Jim Treacher is warblogging. You do not want to miss anything he writes.


I'm really mad at myself right now for something I did. Yet, I'll do it again.

Most of you will figure that out without my admitting to it out loud.


I'll be over at command center for a while.

comic relief

Leave it to a Pirillo to crack me up just when I needed a laugh:

We just watched the Little People of America storm 16th with their chant: "Hell no - we won't grow!" They were followed shortly by the Bay Area League of Women Menstruators, who could be heard chanting: "Hell no - we won't flow!" Naturally, they were only copying the Crackheads of North America, who were screaming: "Hell no - we want blow!"


The absolute glee that some of the reporters are exhibiting over the shock and awe campaign is making me cringe.

button pushing defense

Basically, the Iraqis shoot their anti-aircraft weapons the way I play Street Fighter: Just keep hitting the buttons - something's gotta work eventually.

it's begun


Faster than Drudge.
More updated than CNN.
Able to post fresh links at the speed of light.

It's the Command Center.

air raid sirens going off

Baghdad is flashing with anti-aircraft fire.

It's amazing to be watching this live.

command post logo


Feel free to post one on your blog. Thanks.

i'm not done yet


Palestinian women protest hold posters of Iraqi President Saddam Hussein as they chant slogans against a U.S.-led war in Iraq during a pro-Iraq rally in the West Bank town of Ramallah on Friday, March 21, 2003. Thousands of Palestinians holding pictures of Saddam Hussein poured out of mosques in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank after Friday prayers to protest the U.S.-led attacks on Iraq and cheered for the Iraqi leader to again bombard Israeli cities with Scud missiles. (AP Photo/Muhammed Muheisen)

speaking of evil


Palestinians carrying Hamas and Iraqi flags and a portrait of Saddam Hussein march in Gaza city March 21, 2003. The militant Islamic group Hamas urged Iraqis on Friday to carry out suicide bombings against invading U.S. and British forces in Iraq Photo by Jose Manuel Ribeiro/Reuters

Tell me again why I should feel sorry for these people, because I just can't figure it out.

more amusement

This is what my sister Lisa does at work:


a fan club of one?

I'm beginning to wonder if anyone actually likes Ted Rall or if all of his readers are just people who look to see what kind of stupidity he comes up with next.

via Jim, who links to me in German.

always something there to amuse me

Via Todd, who is stuck at work and relies on me to amuse him:

Sun brands Chirac 'Saddam's whore'

Thousands of copies of the French Sun were distributed at metro stations in the capital, describing Mr Chirac as a "Paris harlot".

The front page featured pictures of Mr Chirac and Saddam side by side. The accompanying text read: "Cherchez la difference [spot the difference]. One is a corrupt bully who is risking the lives of our troops. He is sneering at Britain, destroying democracy and endangering world peace. The other is Saddam Hussein."


catching up

I just heard on the radio that Palestinians came out of mosques in droves this morning holding pictures of Saddam and chanting "Strike Tel Aviv."


Trying to find a link.


More like this at Acerbia

picture worth a thousand words


(photo from ny times)

War is not Pong

Saddam has got the wrong idea. A videogame scoring system is not going to help.

During the Vietnam war the Vietcong would chain cowardly soldiers to their anti-aircraft guns, they therefore had no choice but to shoot at anything that came near them. How are we supposed to have a war if the enemy refuses to fight? At this rate we'll have higher loses from friendly fire than enemy action.

There are more Foxholes up on Acerbia, plus a story of D's dinner with some retired Marines. He's turning into quite the little warhawk these days.

(posted by D as he continues to pretend that he is Michele and steal her audience)

ya think?


File this one under, No Shit, Sherlock.

oh, canada....bite me

Fans boo as U.S. national anthem is played

Fans booed during the playing of the U.S. national anthem before the New York Islanders' 6-3 victory over the Montreal Canadiens on Thursday night.

The sellout crowd of 21,273 at Bell Centre was asked to "show your support and respect for two great nations'' before the singing of the American and Canadian national anthems.

But a significant portion of the crowd booed throughout "The Star-Spangled Banner'' in an apparent display of their displeasure with the U.S.-led war against Iraq.

Islander Mark Parrish was only spurred on by the boos:

"I came to the game pretty pumped up, but once I heard that it really got me going,'' Parrish said. "So I guess I can thank them a little bit for getting me more pumped up.''


yea, and...

And in case you are one of the people who still believe that Iraqis are indignant about the coalition coming in to liberate them, I repeat this post by from Command Center:

The recently-expelled Iraqi Ambassador to Australia was interviewed on TV in Australia today. There's no transcript available, but I've listened to it several times, and it went approximately like this...

Reporter: "What is going to happen in the next few days?"

Ex-A: "It will be a great Victory."

Reporter: "Who will be defeated?"

Ex-A : "The others. The others will have a great Defeat."

Reporter: "Who will have a great Victory?"

Ex-A: "The Iraqis"

Reporter: "You mean Saddam Hussein's regi...?"

Ex-A: "The people of Iraq. They will have a great Victory."(smiles)


That gentleman will probably be heading to New Zealand instead of Baghdad.

blah blah blah

Ted Rall takes one giant leap for idiocy.

(click, etc.)

I can't be sure, because Ted's drawings are sometimes hard to figure out due to their crudeness, but I do believe that Teddy Boy is saying here - If you support the troops and support your country you are a Nazi.

And I'm sure he is also calling the lot of us blind sheep being led into the abyss of hell, brainwashed by our government because we obviously have no minds of our own, no brain power whatsover.

Except for one small detail. While Hitler was leading his troops in a campaign of genocide and mass murder, our leaders have the audacity to liberate people who actually want to be liberated! Imagine the balls on them for doing that! What nerve!

And meanwhile, Ted goes on bitching and moaning about the last presidential election and uses tired cliches and overworked phrases to yell at people who drive SUVs and goes on really bad talk shows where even the liberal host tells him to shut up, and he goes on suing people over petty bullshit and trying to get women to sleep with him and being a mouthpiece for the ignorance of the far left.


trooptrax article

The Trooptrax article in today's Telegram, in case you are interested.

Thank you, Carol!

CDs soften the drumbeat of war
Web site offers music for soldiers in Iraq

Donna Boynton

MILLBURY- Carol Milite joined Adopt-A-Platoon to support the troops overseas, sending them care packages of Valentine's Day cookies, St. Patrick's Day greetings, letters and pictures drawn by her twin 5-year-old sons, Jeremy and Jordan.

While the care packages were appreciated, there was something missing: music. Soon, troops stationed at military bases in the Kuwait desert may be grooving to tunes from home, thanks to Mrs. Milite and her friend, Michele Catalano of Long Island, N.Y.

The two have founded Operation TroopTrax to send music to soldiers taking part in "Operation Iraqi Freedom.' Through their Web site, www.trooptrax.com, the two are collecting new or used compact discs, or donations to purchase them. Mrs. Milite and Ms. Catalano only launched their Web site a few weeks ago and already have collected more than $2,000. Various bands have sent cases of compact discs to the women, Mrs. Milite said.

"It's nice to do something for them, however you feel about it,' Mrs. Milite said from her Millbury home.

"We wish them well,' Mrs. Milite added. "We want to let them know that we are thinking about them and about the job that they are doing. Be safe.'

Mrs. Milite and Ms. Catalano met a year ago through a separate Web site operated by Ms. Catalano, and the two were thinking of things to send to the troops abroad.

Through the TroopTrax Web site, people also have been sending the names and addresses of specific soldiers. Packages have to be sent to specific soldiers, as military regulations prohibit the sending of packages to random soldiers, Mrs. Milite said. The packages will include CDs, magazines, snacks, letters of support and other personal items, which soldiers have promised to share, Mrs. Milite said. Donations can be made on the Internet through PayPal.com and Amazon.com to purchase used CDs for the troops. While the music collected spans all genres, some soldiers have written to them directly through the TroopTrax Web site requesting heavy metal bands.

The first round of care packages is scheduled to be sent next week, as Mrs. Milite continues to fill out customs information forms.

TroopTrax has attracted the attention of media outlets along the East Coast. Mrs. Milite has been interviewed by a talk radio station in Florida, and the Web site was mentioned in a recent Washington Post article.

Information on how to make a donation can be found on the TroopTrax Web site. Locally, CDs can be dropped off at the Millbury Public Library.

morning links

I should have known better than to go to sleep. Now I have so much to catch up on, including 300 pieces of mail.

While I make coffee and catch up on the news here's a couple of links:

1. Head over to Command Post, where they have been quite busy all night while I was in dreamland.

2. Venemous Kate worked her ass off on this Iraqi Timeline

3. Co-founder of TroopTrax Carol was interviewed by the Worcester Telegram, which you can only read online if you subscribe, but suffice it to say Carol did a great job promoting the project.

Full day of news and blogging coming.

March 20, 2003

one last thought

I never want to hear the word embedded again.

The Command Post will take you through the rest of the night.

the march to baghdad

I'm exhausted. Going to try to catch a few hours of sleep. Hopefully sleep will not be interrupted by bloody noses, hacking coughs, ear aches or snoring.

The coverage on Fox News has been nothing short of amazing. Watching a war take place right in front of you - it's just stunning. I am watching a convoy travel across the desert from Kuwait into Baghdad.

They are saying Baghdad by nightfall. I wish for a swift, bloodless taking of that city.

Here's hoping that when I wake up we still haven't used shock and awe - and that we will never have to.

self congratulations

Hey, I just saw this:

The Department of Defense sponsors the following websites for Americans wishing to show support for our troops:


I had no idea.

Now go visit those other sites.

the collins principle

The Thursday quote of the night, courtesy of Jeffrey the Joyful Christian:

A South Carolina House member is attempting to pass a resolution calling on The Dixie Chicks to perform a free concert for S.C. troops to make up for insulting President Bush.

I'm ready to establish The Collins Principle: The stupidity with which a public official will respond is geometrically proportional to the private sector stupidity to which they are responding.

Representative Catherine Ceips has forgotten one simple thing. Dissing the president is not a crime in The United States of America, and therefore not punishable by any law, resolution or ridiculous fantasy of some way-out-there dipshit.

How do these people get elected, anyhow? Did you not know she was an assclown before you elected her?

yea, that's the ticket

So what was that anti-war coalition meeting like?

Oh, let's stop traffic!
What a great idea!
We'll stop ambulances and cops from getting to emergencies!
And we'll keep buses from getting kids to school!
Little old ladies won't be able to get to church!
My god, we are geniuses!
Bush will never be able to resist us now!
The war will end because Mrs. Wilson couldn't get to the post office!
High fives all around!

learn to swim

I think Tool had it right with their song Aenima.

As Americans braced in recent days for a war against Iraq, many Californians were feeling strangely out of it. The great expanse between the two coasts appeared ever vaster. The sense of threat, so acute in the East, was real but less immediate here.

During some lunchtime and office-cooler chatter there has even been longing for President Clinton, a Hollywood favorite, who, the reasoning goes, would never have allowed a war to play havoc with Oscar night, one of the state's most hallowed traditions.

California. What a place.

thanks for the homework help, saddam!

I'm helping Natalie study for a test on The Giver.

We are discussing how Jonas is disturbed to find out his allowed to lie. Now he will wonder who else has the ability to lie and who has been lying to him all along. His friends? His parents?

We have been watching the news while we study and Natalie says, "Saddam must feel a bit like Jonas right now."

She explains, "He doesn't know if his people have been lying to him, if they are going to surrender or give him away. If he thinks that even if one of them is lying, then they could all be lying. He must be going nuts because he doesn't know who he can trust. Like Jonas."

English lit understood through war. Lesson over.

the acid poll


Who would come up with a poll with a name like that?

Who else but Acidman.

Hey, it will give you something to do while waiting for the shock and awe that isn't going to happen.*

* and i wish some people would get it that we should be glad it's not going to happen.


You have been checking the Command Center regularly, right?


The outfit due to be worn by Hollywood star Angelina Jolie (news) at Sunday's Oscar ceremony has been stolen from the designer's car in London.

Jolie's outfit was described as a 3,000 pound body-hugging corset dress decorated with cherubs. [emphasis added]

Were they giant cherubs coated in steel?

this is really getting too easy

At Democratic Underground:

Ok, I know I sound like a nut, but I don't give a shit. I had a weird dream last night that GW was Hitler reincarnated. When I got out of bed this morning, I did a search online and found that Hitler died on April 30, 1945 and GW was born on July 6, 1946.

So, assuming that Babs did the usual 38 week pregnancy (266 days give or take), that means she got knocked up by Poppy around October 15, 1945. Which means Babs got pregnant almost 6 months TO THE DAY after Hitler died.

Somebody's been sniffing The Pentagon's Wacky Juice again!

more interesting than brit hume

I've grown tired of listening to newscasters whine about not seeing enough explosions, so now I'm listening to The SF police scanner.

They are bringing the paddy wagons out now.

saddam's poetry corner

Come on kids, gather round the poetry corner! Tonight's special guest poet is everyone's favorite tyrant, Saddam Hussein! He is going to recite his very special poem entitled "My Heart Will Go On."

Unsheathe your sword without fear, without hesitation, Unsheathe your sword and let Saturn bear witness, Unsheathe your sword, the enemy is smoldering, No one can (intrigue) him but a prudent hero, Saddle the horses and unleash them, For in their wedding there is hope, Let the lightening echo at the night of fire, So that truth appears and injustice is defeated, Shine, in the face of darkness as it turns deeper, Torches, whereas the frail and the weak, Spark your lighter and keep the fire glowing Feared by the subservient vile, Draw your sword and make it gleam, No winner but the determined man, Make the banner fly on each pole, Pray to God, the wound will heal.

Doesn't that sound just like an Iron Maiden song? I had the sudden urge to flick my Bic, stand on my seat and chant "Number of the Beast!!!"

i don't make this stuff up

In a unique form of opposition, some protesters at the Federal Building staged a "vomit in,'' by heaving on the sidewalks and plaza areas in the back and front of the building to show that the war in Iraq made them sick, according to a spokesman.

Only in San Francisco.

meanwhile, in france

The French Interior Ministry said on Thursday that traces of the highly toxic poison ricin have been found in the Gare de Lyon railway station in Paris.
A spokesman told Reuters that two small flasks containing traces of the poison were discovered in a left luggage depot at the mainline railway station which serves the south of France.

For a country that doesn't feel like joining the war on terror, they sure have a lot of terrorist-type things going on there.

bomb porn

My impersonation of almost every television news producer today:

Is that the shock and awe?

Is that it?

We were promised shock and awe!!

Are we there yet? Huh? HUH?

Yea baby, give me those explosions. Oh yea. Bigger! Faster! YESSSSSSSSSS!

They're all going to need an entire box of tissues when that S&A campaign begins.

Q & A

Q: How many countries does it take to make a unilateral invasion a multilateral one?

A: I don't know, but we are up to 45 and it's still being called a unilateral war.


I really have to nap. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a week and between DJ's health problems and this war, sleep isn't coming at night any time soon.

I think it might be healthy to pull myself away from the computer for an hour or so anyhow.

Stay tuned to Command Center - it's being updated at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Oh, and there's comments there now!

worth quoting

Taken from an email I received as part of a Yahoo community group:

I call for all people who oppose this war to also write a letter to the Iraqi people explaining why their calls for an invasion is meaningless and the human rights abuses that they have been suffering is not worth our time.

Excellent retort.

Read more by the author of that statement, Jamie, at his excellent weblog, My November, which I've just added to the blogroll.

tin foil hat alert

The people at Indymedia have lost their minds.

Pentagon Seeding Clouds with Nerve Agent

Domestic Crowd Control Tactic

The Pentagon is infusing the North American atmosphere with a 'pacifying' chemical agent designed to supress dissent and immobilize protest.

The chemical is a low-level, stupefying nerve agent (inhalant) whose effects include a combination of lethargy, memory loss, inhibition, passivity, mild disorientation and lack of coordination.

That would explain a lot, though.

i've created a monster

Kevin comes up with another incredibly clever clip-art protest sign to go along with a stellar post on staged protests.

Go read the whole thing, you'll understand. And laugh.

counting the dead must be a peace thing

On that Iraq Body Count site I referred to earlier.

It is an anti-war site. I'm assuming the sole purpose of the body count is to use as propaganda later on when people like Ted Rall and Noam Chomsky want to write hyperbole-filled rants loaded with misleading numbers.

It is interesting to note that the major news sources for counting up the civilian deaths for that site include Al Jazeera network, AP, Reuters, New York Times, The Guardian and Agence France-Presse.

Notice a trend?

It's also interesting to note that quite a few people emailed me to call me bloodthirsty when they thought IBC was a pro-war site, but when I emailed them back to correct them, they suddenly thought that counting up the dead - real or imagined - was a good idea.

Besides, when I'm in the mood for a bloodthirsty head count, I go here.

it's a hate mail kind of day!

They are coming out of the woodworks today.

I've already deleted five very threatening, ugly comments. The hate mail is piling up.

And now someone has just left this in the comments on my "about" page.

IP Address: Name: a former reader Email Address: URL:


if i was your daughter, i would kill myself while i still had a conscience and soul. how does it feel to lose all your friends and have no friends or readers to your website left than jingoist people with no personalities who only enjoy your company because of your political views?

you're the idiot, idiot.

Oops. Did I just put your IP address up there? Sorry about that!

If you consider yourself one of the friends I lost, then it looks like I got the better end of that bargain.

Bite me, asswipe.

tv blogging

I realize that some of you are at work and cannot get near a television.

I know how this feels. So I am here to help.

(click for tv size)

Almost as good as the real thing, isn't it?

terror links

Alex Knapp does his research and puts up a lengthy post on the links between al-Quaeda and Iraq.

I'm having a hard time keeping up with all the breaking news, blog posts and scrollling updates. I'm looking forward to coaching Natalie's basketball game tonight, as that is the one thing that will make me get out of the house and away from the computer and tv for a while.

live on tape

Was it live or was it Memorex?

"I am being told by several senior officials not to take that taped speech Saddam gave last night as proof that he survived the attack," CBS NEWS reporter David Martin said on air.

"They say the evidence that put him in the bunker last night was very reliable, and they are confident that the cruise missiles and bunker-busting bombs that were fired at that bunker last night hit the target. So now, intelligence experts are studying the tape to determine if it is really Saddam, or a body double which he is known to use from time to time. And they are running a computerized voice analysis, comparing that speech with known recordings of Saddam's voice. But that's a process that takes awhile. So we may not have a quick answer."

"There is considerable belief in this government that they may, in fact, have gotten Saddam."

Pretty soon we will be able to answer the question: Who is more dead, bin Laden or Hussein?

line break

Just in case you need a respite from all this:

The Comic Bondage Cover of the Day

via ultimate insult


The posts are flying at Command Post.

I think I'll post more of the brief blog bits there and save the longer stuff for here.

Please keep checking there during the day. The info is coming swiftly.

You can still join. Just let me know.


Watching this play out on television is frightening.

I hear yelling and noise like loud firecrackers and then static.

My heart is in my mouth half the time.

These reporters are out of their minds.

Grunt for me

Dave took my advice and started his own little satirical comic strip; the tale of two grunts on the frontline in Kuwait, I still can't work out if he's pro-war or anti-war yet and its making my eye itch.

If I find out that he's making fun of us hawks I'll brutally spork him to death though.

UPDATE:(folks, this is what happens when you give someone your login. though he does write just like me, doesn't he?)


Sirens going off in Kuwait.

Reports of oil fields being set on fire.

Looks like the full attacks will be coming sooner rather than later.

the inflated numbers are already coming in

Now I'm going to have to decide what to post here and what to post at Command Center.

Or I can just do this:

Iraq Body Count website.

More than meets the eye

Optimus Prime to the rescue!

I kid you not.

A member of Ohio's 5694th National Guard Unit in Mansfield legally changed his name to a Transformers toy.

Optimus Prime is heading out to the Middle East with his guard unit on Wednesday to provide fire protection for airfields under combat.

That is so very cool. Really, really unecessary and silly. But still cool.

fire the invisible missiles!

It's interesting that they keep firing at us with weapons that they supposedly didn't have.

Good thing we sent those inspectors in there!

come on in!

Command Post already has ten members - some of the best names in WarBlogging.

I'm mesmerized by the news channels, as usual. I either have to move the tv to the other side of the room or invest in a laptop.


Breaking from the warblogging to get DJ back to the Dr. again.

It's been a long week.

I'll get to all your emails when we get back.

command post

Here it is:

The Command Post.

Thank you Alan, for setting this up and paying to make it BloggerPro.

warblog collective

Alan at Avocare ran with my idea of a Corner-like Warblogging site and is in the process of setting it up.

I see it as a temporary blog, just for war news and thoughts and a bit of banter between all of us - mostly very short posts and lots of links, so you are not taking anything away from your own blog by posting there. There are no posting requirements, no pressure.

Please let me know (email or leave a comment) if you are interested in taking part.


Don't forget to check in with Sarge often.

lies, damn lies and Iraq press releases

So the Iraqi government is claiming that the first strikes landed in civilian areas and there are civilian casualties.

This is the Iraq version of shock and awe.

They will shock and awe the anti-war supporters with their tales of gruesome civilian deaths at the hands of the criminal, ugly Americans.

The rumor, hearsay and propaganda machines have started humming.

the warbloggers corner?

So many of us are blogging minute by minute about this war. We are all basically posting the same news links, with our own comments added in.

We should have come up with something like The Corner to blog this war together.

6:30 am: blood pressure up already

One of the reasons I will never subscribe to Newsday, even though it is my local paper, is Jimmy Breslin.

Next time one of those telemarketers calls and pleads to know the reason why I won't plunk down the money to buy their paper, I will direct them to this column.

Breslin reprints Hitler's speech of Sept. 1, 1939, that started WWII. And then he added at the end:

On that night, Hitler used this dry, unimaginative language to start a world war that was to kill 60 million, and they stopped counting.

Last night, George Bush, after speech after speech of this same dry, flat, banal language, started a war for his country, and we can only beg the skies to keep it from spreading into another world war.

I am trying to be literate and adult about this. I am trying to find the right words that would express my feelings in an intelligent, courteous manner.

Unfortunately, all I can come up with is: Fuck you, Jimmy Breslin. You are a blithering idiot.

close up

Is anyone else finding the way this war is being reported a bit surreal?

trolling around

I love the smell of idiocy in the morning. That's why I head right to Indymedia after I read some real news.

I have a BIG sign saying "President Bush: How many people did you kill today? I am going to work tomorrow teaching first grade, but I will stand on a main street with my sign for 1/2 an hour before I go to work. I quit saying the pledge of allegiance a couple of weeks ago. I told the kids that until my government says that it will not drop bombs on children, I will not say the pledge. I respectfully face the flag, standing while those who with to say it do so.

I have no problem with her not saying the pledge. However, if I was a parent of one of those kids - if my six year old came home and said that the teacher talked about America dropping bombs on babies - all hell would break loose.

A first grade classroom is not the place to be spewing your propganda. What a discredit to teachers this asshat is.

spot the clone

I guess that little quote about Palestine doesn't matter anyhow, seeing as that it was not Saddam who spoke those words.

This is going to turn out to be a live version of Where's Waldo?

day divides the night

My plans to blog all night were disrupted by a sick child who needed attention.

I'm just trying to catch up on everything now. But I did take Stephen's advice and call in sick today.

The first thing I see when I open up the CNN page is "Decapitation..."

Damn. Not what I thought it was.

And what the hell is this?

Long live Iraq and Palestine. Long live our glorious nation and the lovers of peace, security and the right of people to live freely on the basis of justice. Long live jihad. long live Palestine.

Birds of a feather...

March 19, 2003


A picture from Bob at Scratching the Itch (truncated here, see Bob's post for huge picture):

Military ship:

(click for bigger)

another ribbon


Thanks to Alan at Avocare.

I really, really want a cigarette.

I'm going outside to breathe some fresh air. I plan on staying up for as long as possible, but I'll probably pass out before Stephen even finishes his first cigar.


Apparently the war wasn't supposed to start just yet.

It's being said there was intelligence that Iraqi leadership was gathering and they took the opportunity to strike.

No ground orders have been given yet - it looks to be an air war at least a day before it becomes a ground war.

Larger strikes loom. Stay tuned.


First sign that the war has started: CNN online has switched from the Bright Red Rectangle of Doom to the Scrolling News Bar of Doom.

Bush: No outcome but victory.

breaking news


take one and pass it on


Ribbon from Statia, who reminded me of this -

And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together

it's on

Air raids over Bagdhad.

Fox News; "The liberation of Iraq has begun."

BAGHDAD, Iraq — After air raid sirens went off across Baghdad, anti-aircraft fire and explosions were heard in the capital at dawn Thursday. Moments after the explosions began, White House spokesman Ari Fleischer told reporters in Washington, "The opening stages of the disarmament of the Iraqi regime have begun."

No airplanes were visible in the skies over Baghdad as the air raid sirens blared. Yellow and white tracers from anti-aircraft fire were seen in the sky, and a number of strong explosions went off in the city.

One explosion raised a ball of fire toward the southern part of the capital.

gimme a filet o fish!

Being that I can only blog the same thing so many times, let's just look at pictures.

(AP photo from yahoo, via Robyn.)

Captions accepted.

UPDATE: wonder if that would have anything to do with this
(see comments for source and link credit)

the time has come to shut up

We are at war.

At war.

All the weeks and months headed towards this, and now we are here and it seems sort of unbelievable to me, and quite scary.

I'm so scared for the men and women over there fighting, and then I read something like this:

Attack USA soldiers everywhere, with words and disgust. Tell them they are not supported, they are pawns of evil, they will be prosecuted as war criminals, they will die in shame. Spray paint slogans on US businesses, products and aircraft: "ALL US Troops = War Criminals, Death to Imperialist Soldiers."Don't stop til the USA no longer exist

And it makes me want to scream.

And then I read this:

In one of the most brutal critiques of the administration's policy toward Iraq by a member of Congress, East Bay Rep. Pete Stark said President Bush would be responsible for "an act of terror" by launching a massive bombing campaign to oust Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein.

"I think unleashing 3,000 smart bombs against the city of Baghdad in the first several days of the war . . . to me, if those were unleashed against the San Francisco Bay Area, I would call that an act of extreme terrorism," said Stark, a Democrat from Fremont.

And I wonder if this man can hear his own words, if he realizes we are now at war and he is behaving like a sullen child who hurls insults as a last ditch attempt to get attention.

And then I read this:

Today I weep for my country," said West Virginia Democrat Sen. Robert Byrd. "No more is the image of America one of strong, yet benevolent peacekeeper. ... Around the globe, our friends mistrust us, our word is disputed, our intentions are questioned.

"We flaunt our superpower status with arrogance," Byrd said, adding: "After war has ended the United States will have to rebuild much more than the country of Iraq. We will have to rebuild America's image around the globe."

And I think, yes I weep as well. I weep for the men and women who are putting themselves on the line. I weep for the people of Iraq, who have been so downtrodden and so opressed that they welcome a war on their own soil.

This is a time to come together. It is a time to support our brave soldiers, to thank them, to wish them safety.

Do not turn your backs on your own country. Not now, when war is waging and people will surely be dying. Not now, when we are on our way to bringing democracy to people that only dreamed of it before.

Don't sit back and enjoy the spoils of democracy and freedom and then not support our men and women when they are fighting for those very things.

Just shut up, put a yellow ribbon around your tree, and wish for the safe return of every soldier who is engaging in battle.

I would not have called you anti-American before this day if you protested and shouted slogans, even if you called the president a murderer. I would not want to crush your dissent or shut you up.

But times of war call for different behavior. For our enemies and our soldiers to see a nation divided can only lead to terrible things.

Remember your history.

test post

I'm missing posts.

I'm going to blame the French again.

What's really weird is people are commenting on the posts I can't see.


Well, there was no last minute rush to leave by Saddam. He didn't come running out of the palace with his hands up, nor did he use the batphone to call Bush and say he surrenders.

It's 8:00.

In one hour President Bush will speak to the nation. He will announce we are at war.

And then we wait. And hope for the best.

may i take a moment to be pissed off?

This woman - Mistress Carrie - is apparently a popular radio show host on WAAF in Massachussets.

Mistress Carrie was emailed several times by several people after TroopTrax was started to make her aware of the program and to ask for some publicity. Mistress Carrie never got back to those people.

And now look. Mistress Carrie has a new project where you can donate CDs to send to the troops!

Do you just want to get involved and SUPPORT OUR TROOPS?

Here's your way!

I'm collecting MILITARY MAILING ADDRESSES (not email addresses) of service men and women....

I'm also collecting RECENT magazines...and I'm collecting CD's brand new OR used. We're gonna send MISTRESS MAILCALL packages over there so they get a bit of home while they are away. These guys are in the desert, they have NOTHING so anything we send them, they'll love trust me.

Feel free to include letters of encouragement with your donations and I'll make sure it gets to a soldier with their package!

No, I don't believe that she never saw the emails from the TroopTrax supporters and came up with this idea out of the blue. Not for a second.

Sure, the bottom line is that more soldiers will be getting CDs and packages and I am grateful for that.

But I really have the urge to grab Mistress Carrie by her hair and drag her around a parking lot.

andy is dandy

Today is the one year blogaversary of the World Wide Rant and Andy said I would be absolved of three or four of my sins if I mention it. He talked to Jesus about it and Jesus said ok.

So Happy Anniversary, WWR, and thanks for taking those murders off of my soul.

i needed that

From a decision my boss wrote today:

But this is the legal equivalent of the argument that the cinematic quality of the comedian Jerry Lewis is proven by his popularity with fifty million citizens of France.

It may be the twenty cups of coffee speaking, but that made me giggle.

(Yes, I know there were three copies of this post up here. I blame the French. They are sabotaging me somehow).

the war as blogged through bad 80's lyrics

Apparently Iraqi soldiers aren't big Corey Hart fans. Otherwise they would know that no one can take away your right to fight and never surrender.

Masses of Iraqi soldiers are deserting and senior members of President Saddam Hussein's ruling family circle are defecting as the countdown to a British and US invasion reaches its final hours.

In northern Iraq, on the border with Kurdistan, up to three-quarters of some Iraqi regiments have already fled.

Of course, this early into the war - heck, it hasn't even officially begun yet - it's easy to dispel everything you read, see or hear. Rumors fly, psychological attacks are made and one does not know what to believe. Just this morning, we thought Azis was dead and then I see him on tv doing a defiant, angry dance of denial.

Meanwhile, our troops are turning the would-be flag wavers down, "telling them that they must wait until an attack begins before they can surrender."

That's ok. They can wait. Corey Hart says so: Just a little more time is all we're asking for, cause just a little more time could open closing doors.

I apologize in advance for getting that song stuck in your head.


The first shots have been fired and, for all intents and purposes, the war has begun.

I sit here mired in memories now, thinking of two specific days that today's events bring to mind.

There's the day the first Gulf War started. Natalie was barely one, DJ, not even a thought in my mind yet.

Natalie was crawling around on the living room floor. CNN was on the tv. While I was glued to the greenish glow of a war being waged, Natalie had crawled over to the coffee table, gripped the edge and pulled herself up. She stood there a moment, let go of the table and suprised herself by not falling down. Her arms went out toward the television. "Oohhh," she said. "Ohhhh!" And then she walked, one unsteady step after another until she tried to go too fast and landed on her butt. She stayed there on the floor, eyes fixed on the television. We watched the war unfold together, Natalie transfixed by the greenish hue of wartime night vision.

Today, twelve years later, the second phase of that war begins and Natalie is a teenager, oblivious to the war waging while she giggles and gossips with her friends. I see Wolf Blitzer on the tv and I get a sense of deja vu. Wolf - in that fantasy world of television - hasn't aged a bit. My life and my daughter have. Yet it feels like the same day.

And then there's September 11. The day was just like this. Sort of warm, a bit of a breeze. Bright sunshine. Endless blue skies. And I don't have to say what the rest of the day was like.

I sit here and avoid work and play around with my memories until the two days combine as one and the dread and fear run into today.

I feel sick and I want a cigarette.

in other news

Meanwhile, the angry farmer is still in the D.C. lake.

In case you were wondering.


Bush to Congress:

Dear Mr. Speaker: (Dear Mr. President:)

Consistent with section 3(b) of the Authorization for Use of Military Force Against Iraq Resolution of 2002 (Public Law 107-243), and based on information available to me, including that in the enclosed document, I determine that:

(1) reliance by the United States on further diplomatic and other peaceful means alone will neither (A) adequately protect the national security of the United States against the continuing threat posed by Iraq nor (B) likely lead to enforcement of all relevant United Nations Security Council resolutions regarding Iraq; and

(2) acting pursuant to the Constitution and Public Law 107-243 is consistent with the United States and other countries continuing to take the necessary actions against international terrorists and terrorist organizations, including those nations, organizations, or persons who planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001.



And with that, I am off to lunch, at a diner that shows CNN on ten different TVs.

shallow posting while we wait

Whatever shall we do? The Oscars are at the mercy of the war!

If there is any person in the world who right now is bitching and moaning and pissed off that their red carpet moment will be "truncated" be it a spoiled superstar or a groupie who hangs out at the red carpet are three days in advance, you need to have your ass kicked.

"Keeping in mind the world situation, the Academy has elected to prepare a more sober pre-show and a scaled-back arrivals sequence," Cates said during a Tuesday afternoon news conference. He said celebrities will not go through, as he puts it, the "business-as-usual" interviewing and photograph-taking familiar to television audiences from ceremonies in the past.

Cates said the celebrities will get out of their limousines and go directly through what's known as the "arrivals arch."

He said that many celebrities simply would feel uncomfortable, given the world situation, about doing some of the usual things.

Motion Picture Academy president Frank Pierson said at the press conference that the Academy "didn't want to do something that would look self-serving and frivolous on a night when our troops were in bloody combat. It would be absolutely inappropriate."

I guarantee you, right here in writing, that there are some celebrities who will be quite self-serving that evening, going out of their way to practically chew on the microphone while screaming no blood for ooooiiil!

Celebrities are not a group of people known to feel uncomfortable doing anything. Some of these people were the first to speak out on The Arrogance of America(tm) within days after 9/11.

It's only Wednesday, but it's not too early to start taking bets on who will make the first stupid statement during the awards.

I hope someone trips on that damn red carpet. Hopefully Melissa Rivers.

What was that about feeling edgy?

5 cups of coffee later...

The news sites are slow to load today and all kinds of rumors are flying.

Has Tariq Aziz defected? Has he been killed as he tried to escape? Have shots been fired already? Has the war begun? Will the CNN page ever load?

By the way, wartime profiteers who engage in price gouging of medical supplies, safety equipment and food staples in a time of war should be strung up on a sharp pole.

while you're waiting

This is NOT from The Onion:

Jody Mason of Olympia is locked to the Washington State Grange office building Tuesday to protest war. He intended to chain himself to a federal Department of Energy office building, but discovered he was at the wrong location.

Yes, I'm easily amused.


I saw two fighter jets on my way to work today.

I'm still not sure if I feel comforted or frightened by that.

Amusement still lingers. Two more clip art madness contributions:

From my sister Lisa

Scooter of Karma to Burn.


Something tells me all those countdown clocks are going to be wrong, anyhow.

I don't think we are waiting until 8pm.

press notes

Blogger and regular commenter on this site David is quoted in this AP article at MSNBC.

Way to go, David!

(via OW)

blogging forecast

Just a programming note:

The forecast for today's blogging is 90% warblogging, 10% filler. There is a war going on.

Fair warning to those who come for the fart jokes and boobs and don't like stick around for the war and politics: Run away. Now.

iraqi II, electric bugaloo

It's one of those days when I have too much going on in my mind and the thoughts are entwined like snakes in a cage. I can't separate the war from the protests from the local news from every other news flash and headline and whining child that appears before me. They've all combined to form a huge black cloud that is going to taunt me all day.

Is anyone else jumping out of their skin today? Yea, I bet we all are.

Even with all war, all the time playing on your local tv stations and weblogs everywhere, the mundane things of life still play an important part of the day. Lunches to make, clothes to iron, work to do, kids to shove out the door and onto the bus, a lunch date to keep. Life goes on around us while we worry about life not going on around us.

Anyhow, it's going to take me a while to sort out everything I wanted to write about today. In the mean time, I thought we squeeze the last drops of fun and games out of world events before we latch ourselves to the remote tonight, switching between news channels to see who is ahead in the race to bring us Live! War! on the tv.

An emailer this morning suggested that we find a decent name for this war, as Gulf War II is just lame and what kind of graphic will that make on CNN? How droll.

And forget Iraqi II. I already thought of that one. (Rocky II, get it? No? Damn.)

March 18, 2003

final thought of the day

Nothing says "heightened security" like traffic cones strategically placed in front of federal buildings.

"Stop, you terrorists! My magical orange cone will keep you away!"

I feel so much safer now.

was i supposed to be laughing?

And to think, I once thought Neal Pollack was funny.

See, there's parody, there's irony, and then there's Neal Pollack, whose make-believe song about 9/11 crosses that line between humor and "you are a fucking idiot."

It's as if Ted Rall and Dave Matthews gave birth to a song. It's pretty damn ugly.

(thanks to NC for pointing this out. I think.)

note: my sense of humor is on low level tonight.

more clip art: mumia 3:16!

NC of Carthaginian Peace weighs in with this gem:

now that's just silly

I think the word for this is overboard:

quote of the night

My favorite comment of the night was a trackback to this post, which I wrote Sunday, but was linked by Mr. Instapundit today. (I got an Instalanche and a Quickalanche within an hour of eachother. Wheee!)

John Avelis III at pr9000.net:

If the cretins described in this pos t were ever exposed to reality, I imagine their tiny brains would explode....I could start by explaining to them that some of Iraq's liberators will come from a warship driven by my "peaceful, nurturing, verbal" wife...and meanwhile, I'll be the "bullying, violent, testosterone-poisoned" husband at home making chicken alfredo for a few friends and taking care of the cats.


John, please tell your wife I said thank you and be safe.

musical respite

I feel like we are all sitting on our hands waiting for something. Probably because we are.

I've managed to flip the news station off for a while. Correction, Natalie has forced me to turn off the news because it is Tuesday and it is 8:00 and that is when we are supposed to watch American Idol together. Generally how it works is, I sit at the computer in the living room, she watches American Idol and every once in a while I say something like "Hey, that dude looks like K.D. Lang!"

Tonight's theme (I bet you didn't know they had theme nights on this show. I'm still waiting for the Death Metal theme) is Songs from Movies. The contestants have picked some bottom of the barrel crap so far. A Whitney Houston song, that song from the movie about the mice and A Whole New World.

How come none of these people are daring? If I recall correctly, Slayer's Angel of Death was used in Gremlins 2. Even New Order's Bizzare Love Triangle, heard in Married to the Mob, would be better than the Shoop Shoop song.

They're all going for sap and high notes instead of showing their versatality and range. If I was a judge on that show I would be saying "Yo, show me you can reprezent! Let's hear some Snoop Dogg!" I mean, anyone can put on that fake nasaly sound and sing a love song like they mean it. Show me that you can take Johnny, Are You Queer (Valley Girl) to new heights and then I'll call you an idol.

Now, if I were a contestant - which I would never be, not unless the show was called Girl, Please Stop Singing Before the Jackals Attack! - and I had to pick a song from a movie I would go all out and sing The Trammps' Disco Inferno because if I was going to make a fool of myself, there's no better way than to do it with disco.

Don't ever invite me to a karaoke bar.

There's an hour left. I bet you ten dollars someone does Wind Beneath My Wings before the show is over.

and another one

From Matt

No hair for oil!


final score:


juan gato: pioneer

Juan Gato is an authority on everything, so he has compiled a glossary of terms he has learned the meaning of since becoming the world's most authoritative pundit on everything under the sun.


Wearing costumes.

He's so smart it's scary.

clipart craziness

Here's all the links and clipart fit to print:

Dasheeka Jones

Kim Du Toit

Keith Susskins (edited to reflect his real name and not the name I accidently bestowed on him)





Nothing like a little cheap fun in the midst of war angst.

clipart for saddam!

The clipart links and pictures are coming in faster than I can keep up. I just walked in the house (DJ does not have The Deadly Disease of Death, mom), so give me a bit to catch up.

Here's Kevin's.


While you are over at Kevin's place, read his post on enablers.

Better Make Way

Another Photoshop guru lends his hand to the fight against prejudiced clipart:


from Dave at Acerbia who just started running a pool on Iraq's chances for survival

someone fill me in!

I can't get on to any news sites. I shouldn't even be on here at all as I'm swamped with work and besides, there is a juicy sex scandal of a trial going on down the hallway and I'm busy trying to get the goods.

Anyhow, the day and life goes on as if war didn't matter:

On top of all the stuff we had to deal with in regards to DJ last week, we have to bring him back to the doctor today because he is still running a fever, hasn't eaten in five days and has a very wet cough.

I call mom to tell her.

Me: Dr. Andy says DJ may have pneumonia.
Mom: Oh! You know there's that deadly disease going around?

Thanks, mom.

This is the woman who sent me the following email last week:

i am in the process of compiling a list of all my stuff and who gets what. if there is anything of mine you'd like to inherit please let me know. and not next year. asap? if not, i'll see that the stuff is either sold or donated to something.

She claims she is very healthy (and she's young, relatively speaking), she just felt like making a list for future reference. It seemed rather abrupt to me, but that's my mother. I bet she's just doing this because she feels like she'll be gipped out of some good entertainment if we fight over this stuff after she's dead.

My two sisters can fight over the Precious Moments and good china, but Lisa and I are going to have an all out brawl over mom's collection of hockey fight tapes and the autographed Islanders jersey.

So, what's going on out there?

no blood for the humpty dance!

I knew someone would come to the rescue and change that clipart for me.

From reader Paul, who wants us all to do the humpty dance:


Come on, break out those Photoshop skills.

french reasoning

Hmmm. I thought that France was under the impression that Saddam wasn't an imminent threat because he had no chemical or biological weapons of mass destruction.

Then what do they mean by this:

"If Saddam Hussein were to use chemical and biological weapons, this would change the situation completely and immediately for the French government," Jean-David Levitte told CNN.

So, he's going to use those weapons that HE DOESN'T HAVE?? Can anyone spot the inconsistencies here?

How do you say "Don't call us, we'll call you" in French?

no blood for clipart!

My sister was going through her clipart (Gold Edition Art Explosion, 1996) at work this morning and came across a category called "rallies." She decided to take a look at it and you will not believe what she found.


Were the makers of Art Explosion clipart trying to send a not so subtle message to its users?

I'm pretty offended by this blatant piece of propaganda tucked into an art program.

I only wish I had photoshop at work.

the impasse

(if you think this post is about you, then it probably is. and there are several of you)

As the minutes tick away on the war clock, the great divide grows wider and more dangerous.

Where once there was at least a level field between us and them, there is now a steep valley strewn with shards of glass and sharp, pointed rocks.

It is now impossible to pass.

We stand on our cliffs and look over at the other side. Where once we saw friends that we could at least meet in the middle to talk about the things that did not divide us, we now see strangers who claim to know us, but don't.
Yes, it is an us and them situation. The shades of gray disappeared some time in the past 24 hours, as the yelling between the sides grew louder and we started waging a little war of our own.

I've already seen my first casualties of this mini-war and my friendships lie on the battlefield, wounded and writhing and so close to death you can hear the rattling of their souls trying to get out.

I've been here before and in those times, I ran to rescue those who perceived me as the enemy. I tried to breathe life into those dying friendships, I tried drag complete strangers away from the light and back towards life. I did this publicly, I did it privately. I did it for people with whom I had once shared my life's secrets and I did it for those who I knew only through a faked email address.

In my previous battles I was an appeaser. I fought with diplomacy. I compromised my own self in order to keep the peace and stave off confrontation. I muzzled myself so as not to offend those who I later realized were nothing more than my enemy, for they refused to think of me as a living, breathing person with a heart and instead treated me like a piece of scrap metal. When I kneeled before them and asked forgiveness though I really didn't need to, they kicked me in the teeth.

Sometimes it is not until after the battle that you find out what your enemy really thinks of you, when they start to throw sticks and stones around with your name on them, hurling insults and harsh words as if they were rocks aimed at your head.

My days of appeasing and diplomacy are gone. I crossed the divide and I am done crawling over broken glass and rocks to try to reach you. It was you who chose to turn that level field between us into a chasm, and it was you who chose to start slinging arrows from the other side when I was willing to meet you halfway.

The bridge has been burned down and I am not rebuilding it.

I could sit here all day and spit out the metaphors and analogies. What it really comes down to is this: I don't care anymore. We've drawn our sides and that's the bottom line. I am not going to mince my words or muzzle my thoughts for fear of hurting your feelings or coming across as too harsh.

I am angry. I have been for 18 months. The anger is not going to go away when I let people scratch the wounds again and again.

This is our impasse. This is our war. You are the enemy because you have made it that way.

War means never having to say you're sorry. So I'm not going to do that any more.

March 17, 2003

proof that i should have gone to bed already

I really need to get a good night's sleep before I completely lose my mind.

Or perhaps I have already.


i'm so sorry i edited that last post about this

On the subject of Rachel Corrie, please go here to see why the pictures of her standoff and death pissed me off so much.

The people Rachel was working for could give a rat's ass about her. To them, she is just another "martyr" for the cause and they will paint her death in a completely different color than the truth. She was just another dumb American that International Solidarity Movement could use as a pawn to play on the emotions of American Palestinian terrorist supporters.

Spare me the tears, spare me the glowing eulogies and flags draped over mock coffins and cries of hero-worship. She was not a child. She was 23. She made a choice, and that choice was to sleep with evil, as far as I'm concerned.

She did not die because she stood up for her convictions. She died because she was stupid.

And now her death will be used and abused for more propaganda.

there goes my blood pressure

"I'm saddened," Daschle, D-South Dakota, said in a speech to the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees. "Saddened that this president failed so miserably at diplomacy that we're now forced to war. Saddened that we have to give up one life because this president couldn't create the kind of diplomatic effort that was so critical for our country."

Sometimes all you can say is, fuck you. Asshat. finger2.gif

I found that smiley over here, which I got to from over here.

orange crush

Back in high school, I celebrated St. Patrick's Day the way all the Italian kids in our school did: I wore orange to school that day.

Here it is St. Patrick's Day and I no longer own any piece of orange clothing, but I see our government has helped me out by raising the terror alert to that color.

Think they have it in for the Irish, too?

and so it comes

48 hours.

I don't think the 48 hours will even come to pass because Saddam will try something very, very foolish to get in one last grasp at being a martyred hero to some.

We shall see.

And they smell like rotting beef carcasses1

We don't need your Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen, anyhow.

1"Our country reeks of trees,
Our yaks are very large,
And they smell like rotting beef carcasses.
And we have to clean up after them
And our saddle sores are the best.
We proudly wear women's clothing
And searing sand blows up our skirts.
And the buzzards, they soar overhead,
And poisonous snakes will devour us whole,
Our bones will bleach in the sun.
And we will probably go to hell
And that is our great reward,
For being The-uh Ro-yal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen!"

Ren and Stimpy

stop me if you heard this one before:

Seen on The Corner:


They're both getting bombed on St. Patrick's Day

this has been my politically incorrect st. patrick's day post

this was the post about rachel corrie

This was a post about Rachel Corrie.

I may have come across a lot harsher than I meant to. Sometimes it's not what you say, but the way that you say it.

My point still stands. I can't feel sympathy for Americans who go on to foreign soil and try to protect the homes of terrorists who have killed so many, some of them Americans themselves.

You can take this any way you want to, I guess it all depends on which side of the Middle East conflict you side with.

I feel about her the same way I feel about human shields in Iraq. I do not consider them courageous.

I know from my email that I offended some people with my choice of words. My honesty and bluntness has gotten me into trouble before, and I'm sure this won't be the last time.

I will apologize for the way I stated some things. I will never, ever apologize for my feelings.


I'm really tired of apologizing. I'm tired of walking on eggshells around people who don't feel the same way as me. My days of appeasement for the sake of friendships or civility are gone.

supporting the troops

Both John Hawkins (Right Wing News) and Scott Ott (Scrappleface) have posts where you can leave messages to the troops. They have both generated an incredible amount of comments and supports.

As soon as the first TroopTrax packages are ready to go out, I am going to print out every single comment from both of those posts, make copies and put a copy in each package to let the troops know just how many people are thinking of them each day.

Thanks to John and Scott for allowing me to do this.

Post at Right Wing News
Post at Scrappleface

Please go leave your thoughts and support at each of these sites.


I found something to keep our minds out of the war gutter for a while.

Dave Barry points to this site, which looks like a dinner menu from my childhood.

I'm particularly frightened by the Frankfurter Spectacular, as my mother served something similar back in the 70's and I still have nightmares about it.

Mom - who has never tried to pass herself off as good cook - would take a roasting pan, line it with pork-n-beans, and throw a couple of hot dogs wrapped in bacon on top of the beans. She'd bake it and then toss some saurekraut on top for good measure. She called this dinner. My dad called it shit. My sisters and still laugh about it.

This page is quite similar, though not as vast, as the Gallery of Regrettable Food by our own James Lileks. (We did claim him as our own, right? I think Glenn has the adoption papers). As a matter of fact, I discovered James not through the blogosphere, but through his sad, scary pictures of food from days gone by. He even has a picture which is quite similar to the freaky frankfurter dinner my mother made.

I grew up in the suburbs, just one town over from the original famed Levittown, New York. Women cooked, men worked and kids played. Our living rooms were decorated in dark hues of green and orange and all our appliances were brown or olive colored. It's just the way it was in our little Stepford existence.

Dad used to say that mom was an alchemist by trade. Of course, the punchline was that everything she touched turned to shit. He meant this in regards to her culinary skills. I think mom was at an unfair disadvantage in that 1) my father himself was a gourmet cook whose skills were honed in the firehouse of Bushwick, Brooklyn 2) mom had to compete with my grandma - dad's mother - who was Italian and therefore knew how to cook better than anyone else in the world; and 3) the recipes and ingredients of the day just did not lend themselves to dinners worth remembering. Or even worth eating, sometimes.

Meals were generally cooked in one pot, or in one electric skillet, and served in one dish. This "Mexican" specialty looks like almost every dinner my mother cooked.

Apparently, hot dogs were the main staple of family dinners during that era. Witness this example, which looks just like my mom's famous recipe, without the pork-n-beans.

At least she never tried hot dog fondue.

scary hot dog picture from this site


So now that the U.N. has been told to stick it up their ass, and now that Saddam's days - minutes, even - are numbered, the questions have changed.

Like Damian, I'm ready to roll but nervous now that the time is here. Every time I bring CNN up on the monitor, I expect to see the bright red bar that indicates breaking news. I'm sure Saddam isn't spending his time waiting for the bombs to drop just drinking tea and admiring the gold-leafed molding on his palace walls.

Perhaps he has already given orders to his elite guards. And perhaps he is already in his vast underground bunker which supposedly leads to an escape tunnel under the Tigris River.

I'm going to try to busy myself with other stuff today until 8pm rolls around. DJ is still home sick. Natalie is home as well, recovering from a Marcia Brady type incident (think, Oh! My nose!). I can take this weekday at home opportunity to finish up the dishes, do some laundry, rearrange my actions figures....

Oh hell, who am I kidding. I'll be sitting here staring at Debka and Drudge all day in addition to the major newsites. And I'll be checking blogs to see who is as nervous as me and who is just going about their business.

Anyone know any good jokes?

what they are saying

Please continue to read (and add to) the What Say You thread for some very varied and interesting opinions on what is going to take place this week.

we interrupt the warblogging to bring you...

A fart story.

Jay was writing about Bigwig's stellar post regarding Madonna and farting when he made this statement:

Women may not think it's so funny. After all, it has a fart theme, and only men could giggle and snicker at something as disgusting as flatulence. But we do, and I did when reading it.

How sexist. First, we hear that women love peace and bunnies and think wars are icky. Now, Jay's trying to tell me that only men giggle at farts? Hah!

I refer you to exhibit A, first posted here on March 13, 2002:

story time: a (true )fart story

I'm in the public bathroom at the credit union. There's a woman in the stall next to me and she's making some really strange noises. Now, I have farts on my mind lately, because I am reading Stephen King's Dreamcatcher and there's a whole lot about farting in this book so far. Evil farting, borne of aliens and anal probes. And the sound coming from the stall next to me sounds much like I imagined the characters in the book would sound.

She's got expensive leather shoes on and stockings with a seam running up the back. Her purse is on the floor, some designer logo I don't recognize attached to it. She's a sharp-dressed, well-off woman, I can tell that much. And she's farting up a storm.

I sit there trying to think of how to react. Because I really have to react, out of courtesy. I mean, she knows I'm in there, right? So she's probably pretty embarassed. She's going to wait for me to leave the stall, wash my hands and exit out of the bathroom before she dares to even stand up. I feel bad for her. I want to make her feel less embarassed.

So I think, ok....I can do one of two things. I can hightail it out of there, so she doesn't have to face me. But what if she heads over to the food court right behind me and I recognize those Italian shoes and she recognizes my platform heels and she turns red with shame as she realizes I am telling everyone on the food line about the flatulent woman in the high heeled shoes I just encountered? The other thing I can do is fart. If I let one out, she'll feel less alone in her shame, maybe we will both giggle a little, come out and wash our hands and burst into full fledged laughter and walk to the food court together, making fart noises with our hands.

Unfortunately for her, I am not a male, nor have I had any beer recently, so I can't fart on demand. I contemplate faking one, but I think with the music her flatulence makes, she would recognize a fake one right away. Then she would think I was making fun of her.

She lets out another, a long, windy fart that is probably vibrating the toilet seat. She moans and gasps with what I assume is relief. And I do the only thing I can. I laugh. I can't help it. I am suddenly overcome with the sense of humor of a 9 year old boy and I giggle and practically snort. I know she hears me because she responds by letting out another one, with gusto. I opt for the quick getaway at that point because it is really starting to reek in there.

I meet my sister in the food court, watching the feet of all the expensive looking women that stroll in, keeping an eye out for those Italian shoes. She never materializes, but if she did, I just wanted to tell her that she might want to skip the bean soup.

March 13, 2002 06:36 PM

Admit it, you laughed.

Another night, another dream

The whole thing was rather long, involving my sister's upcoming wedding, being lost in a mall and other assorted weirdness. But there was this part, which is going to stay with me all day:

All of the kids (and by that I mean my kids and all their cousins) were in my house. Someone was watching them on the day of the wedding. I was standing outside of the house in a bridesmaid gown waiting for the limo to pick me up. Two vans pulled up instead and several masked men emerged from the vehicles. They were dressed in black and had very large guns. One grabbed me from behind and held a gun to my head. The others went into the house.

I heard screaming. Kids screaming. I could hear the fear in their voices and I heard DJ say "I don't want to get on the floor, don't make me get on the floor!" I was struggling to get away from the person who was holding me when I heard gunshots and more kids screaming. I forced myself to wake up at that point.

I know that dreams often mean something other than what they seem to at face value - for instance, this dream had nothing to do with kids being killed but more likely the images are grounded in the fears I faced with DJ being sick this week - but those images will stay with me all day nonetheless.

My problem is I dream like this every night. I wish just once I could go to sleep and either not dream at all or dream of fluffy bunnies and rainbows.

the first sign

Inspectors urged to leave Iraq.

I got this email from the Voices in the Wilderness mailing list that I don't know how I got on but I'm kind of glad I did:

Currently, there are 28 people with IPT prepared for an indefinite stay in Iraq.

A group of 5 Americans and 3 Canadians arrived in Baghdad this week. Beyond this group, we have no further delegations of new IPT members planned at this time. This is because war appears to be so painfully imminent, and our current team is so focused right now on physically, emotionally and mentally preparing for the crisis of attack and invasion.

I don't see anyone warning them to get out of Iraq. You reap what you sow.

It's going to be a very busy news day.

That reminds me of this:

Chris Muir: Day by Day

March 16, 2003

they may be on to something

Off subject of the war, I found the super double extra secret nomination tally page for the Anti-Bloggies.

Please remember that this is the only blog awards that can't claim controversy because they encourage cheating, bribery, scandals and killing off of your opponents.

Anyhow, I had planned on campaigning for Biggest Whiner After Being De-Linked (a category in which I am currently in the lead), but it looks like there may be a grassroots movement to get me crowned as both Biggest Jerk and Most Depressing Blog.

Hey, a prize is a prize. I'll take either. Go vote for me.

I did win best heterosexual blog last year. Some people don't think I deserved it, on the basis that they don't believe I am strictly heterosexual. Go figure.


My life has not been "normal" since September 10, 2001. I imagine it's the same for most of you.

I want my life back. I want to go back to the place where my children didn't ask me a million questions every night that I just can't answer.


15 years ago today.

Why are we fighting? So this never happens again, to Iraqis, to Americans, to anyone.

a good time to mention this

The troops are getting restless.

Have you been over to TroopTrax? It's just one way you can help make a soldier smile.

what say you?

So how do you think tomorrow is going to play out? Will there be war, will there be compliance, will the security alert go up to deep purple? Will Saddam strike first - in Israel or the U.S? Is the "moment of truth" for the U.N. or Saddam? Will anti-war protests clog your city and stop traffic?

I'm serious. Pen your prognostications right here and we'll take a tally this time tomorrow night to see how well you can read all the rhetoric and double-speak and ultimatums.

get scott a job!

Can Weblogs Get a Good Man a Great Job?

Let's hope so. Scott rocks the hizzouse.

The only caveat here is that I hope Scott - who is currently a stay-at-home dad, does not get a job that keeps him from updating Ultimate Insult as often as he does.

yes i'm still ignoring the fact that we are going to war tomorrow

I finally got that damn Winamp list thing working. It's over in the sidebar.

One word about my tv theme songs and I'll knock you out.

Cause umm...momma said knock you out.


I fell asleep this afternoon and I dreamed this:

I was in a supermarket, the kind that used to be around when I was little, where the supermarket itself was connected to a department store and you can take your cart full of clothes and sneakers and toys and proceed right into the frozen food section. There was a security guard stationed between the two parts of the store, and he checked your bags before you went from one to the other.

In the dream the security guard was looking into my bags of canned beans and personal hygiene products. He told me two things. One, that I should buy some extra clothing and two, that I should call my doctor and have them increase the doseage of my Paxil.

He said I would be nervous in the coming days. His exact words were "not nervous like wedding nervous, not even nervous as when you approach a big test. I mean nervous as in....scared."

I already am scared, I told him.

You don't know what fear is, he said.

He then stapled my receipt to one of the paper bags and waved me off.

Have a pleasant day, he said. And he laughed.

And I laughed.

That weird kind of laugh, you know?

meaty beaty big and bouncy

One last thing in honor yesterday's meat fest.

Kat reminded me of an artist whose work I became enthralled with a while ago. How could I have forgotten about Mark Ryden while obsessing about meat yesterday?

This picture is dedicated to PETA and militant vegans everywhere:
(I know not all vegans are militant or extreme. I even like some of you herbivores)

(click for frightening size)

You would be remiss if you didn't check out the rest of Mark Ryden's gallery. I especially love this one.

you run ahead, i'll wait here

I just saw some local idiot being interviewed on television about terrorism in the event of war. Idiot says: "I think it's very important that we all plan escape routes."

At which point I scream at the television:

"WE LIVE ON A FUCKING ISLAND YOU ASSCLOWN!" How do you plan to get off an island when everyone else is doing the same?

I'm sure your place in the traffic jam on the Throgs Neck bridge will afford you a great view of the mushroom cloud, buddy. Personally, I'd rather die in my bed than stuck between Queens and NYC. With my luck, my last sight would be the bright blue ugliness that is Shea Stadium. What a way to go.

I have no idea why I'm so worked up today. I just am. Enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow I'll probably be crying that nobody loves me. See, The handy dandy chart of my cycle

i am womyn, hear me roar. or meow.

I am not a women's libber or "feminazi" by any stretch of the imagination. But this - crap like that pisses me off.

On the question of invading Iraq, men really are from Mars and women from Venus. Just as that ancient Roman god and goddess disagreed on matters of war and love, the two sexes are arguing today on whether armed conflict is the answer in Iraq...Women fear for people's lives; they see their children, their husbands, in the line of fire. Bring up the issue of war to many men, and their response is matter-of-fact: Iraqi President Saddam Hussein must be removed from power, and war may be the only option.

I just cannot subscribe to the theory that women are nuturers and men are violence prone by default. Men fear for people's lives as well. They also see thier children and wives in the line of fire.

Women are closer to this issue because we are mothers and we understand when somebody gets killed in a war, that person is a child of one mother and one mother is going to suffer, we understand this in our hearts,'' said [Vidaa] Shahamat, 40.

What? Men don't understand that concept? All I see in articles like this is a bunch of stereotypes at play. Women love, men hate. Women are soft like fluffy cotton, men are hard as nails and plywood.

``Many women are feeling that all of this negative male energy has really taken our country in a direction that feels dangerous to us, especially after Sept. 11,'' said [Medea Benjamin, founder of CodePink], who will stay in Washington until International Women's Day, Saturday. ``We are determined to make the world safer and better for our kids -- and the men who lead this country certainly haven't done it.''

The only negative male energy I feel comes from the direction of bin Laden and Saddam Hussein. And that's more of a terrorism/murderous energy than it is male.

The one theme that I see over and over again with female peace activists is the theme of "women want to make this world a safer place for our children." I wish they would be more specific when they speak about that, say what they really mean. Which is, "We want to make the world safe for the children of our specific country. We don't care about anyone else's." Because if they did, they wouldn't be so quick to put a stop to this war. How is keeping Saddam Hussein in power making the world of Iraqi children safe? Where are the nurturing and motherly insticts for the children of the Hussein regime?

Julie Callahan of Campbell used to be a typical working mom. But she got involved in South Bay Mobilization to Stop the War when the group formed in October. Callahan said she's met people who are involved with the peace movement for a multitude of reasons. But to her, it's about humanity.

``I look at my son when I put him to bed,'' said Callahan, 44, who works for a semiconductor company. ``And I can't help but think how many moms there are in Iraq who put their kids to bed at night and hope they will be all right.''

What's a typical working mom? One that doesn't care about world peace? One that is so involved in her job that she doesn't give a shit about her children? I don't care about humanity because I work yet I haven't joined the peace movement?

I'm tired of article after article stating that the women who are out there protesting the war are noble, are better mothers, are more in touch with their femininity, are going to save the world from the likes of me - a mother who is all-out in favor of the war.

You know what I think of when I put my kids to bed at night? I think of how god damn lucky I am that we haven't been bombarded by more terrorism since 9/11. I think of how horrible it must be to live in a place where you tuck your kids into bed at night and wonder if tomorrow they will be taken away and tortured or murdered or raped, or if they will starve to death because their leader is sitting on millions of dollars and living in a palace while his people go hungry.

What really confuses me about these women is how on one hand, they parade around chanting that women are strong, women are equal to men, women can do whatever men can do. And the next minute they are arguing that women are nicer and more loving and more compassionate than men, that women are better equipped to be mothers and lovers than fighters. Which is it, ladies? Do you want to be womyn who can rule the world or womyn who can paint rainbows across the sky with your piss?

I am a female. I am a mother. And despite the fact that I am not out in Washington D.C. this weekend calling the president a baby killer and waving a socialist flag and chanting "give peace a chance," I am a damn good mother. Yea, I want world peace, too. However, I live in reality and I know the only way to get peace this time around is through force.

shit or get off the pot

The now or never poll:

one last post about meat

I forgot to document my meat-eating yesterday:

Breakfast: McDonald's sausage and egg biscuit. I get points for the eggs because I'm sure the chickens that hatched the eggs were opressed. Also, I used milk in my coffee and we all know that cows are demeaned and degraded when their utters are stroked for our benefit.

Lunch: Chinese take-out. We ordered $50 worth of food just to cover our bases. Sesame chicken, pork fried rice, beef with string beans, shrimp lo mein and barbecued spare rib tips.

Dinner: Domino's Meatzza Pizza.

We thought about going to a steakhouse for dinner, but that would have meant getting out of our outfits of underwear and t-shirts and leaving the house. Besides, we capped the evening off with some cannibal movies.

I dropped into a meat coma at about 11pm last night. It was blissful.

Eat an Animal for Peta Day was a rousing success.

i dream of gifelte fish

I know I posted about the talking fish last night, but I've become a bit obsessed about it.

Many believe the carp was channelling the troubled soul of a revered community elder who recently died; others say it was God. The only witnesses to the mystical show were Zalmen Rosen, a 57-year-old Hasid with 11 children, and his co-worker, Luis Nivelo. They say that on 28 January at 4pm they were about to club the carp on the head when it began yelling.

So last night I dreamed that Mr. Limpet - who had the face of Saddam Hussein - was about to be clubbed to death by the Broccoli Boys when the fish started screaming "Soylent Green is PEOPLE!"

That's gonna stay with me all day.

last notice

To the person who keeps leaving random comments in order to leave a link to some crap he is selling, I say this:

Just like the idiot from Jack Price Sports who calls my house eight times a day via a recording to tell me that he knows how to beat the spread on college basketball games, you have placed yourself on my shitlist.

I will eventually hunt both of you down and when I do, you will be on the receiving end of my wrath. This is not to be taken lightly. Are we clear?

You have been warned.

March 15, 2003


I must hate myself, for I am watching Christopher Hitchens on C-Span. It appears to be a debate sponsored by the L.A. Times, being held at UC Berkeley.

I think if it really was all about the oil, we would just have invaded Hitchens's hair by now.

i need a second job just to get those akira books

What my bookshelf wants to look like when it grows up:

[click for supersize]

Bookshelf and photos property of my husband's friend Tony. Check his stuff out.


just saying..

The Smart family gives me the creeps.


Developing story on Drudge that leaves me wondering if my coffee has been spiked with hallucinogenic drugs.


Oh my god, what if it was the incredible Mr. Limpet? The horror!


a joke walks into a blog...

The coming days will wrought with war and discord. Let's have some fun while it's still in vogue.

Zuly, who is celebrating her birthday today, sent along the most retarded jokes I ever read in my life. Of course, I cracked up for an hour. The first two went like this:

A jumper cable walks into a bar.
The barman says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

A sandwich walks into a bar.
The barman says, "Sorry, we don't serve food in here."

Now, you are going to make your own. Because I said so and I need some entertainment.

Like: A font walks into a bar.
The bartenders says: "Hey, we don't serve your type in here!"

A mushroom walks into a bar.
The bartender says: "Hey, you look like a fun guy!"

Come on. Humor me.

saturday, bloody saturday

While we sat around eating five different kinds of meat in our chinese take-out, we watched the sickest movie ever made (excepting Bad Taste, which we will watch later).

If you haven't seen Curdled - a Quentin Taratino production- take the time to watch it. It's only 88 minutes. The last 20 minutes or so included a twisted, insane scene with William Baldwin and Angela Jones (who played the taxi driver in Pulp Fiction).

This movie is reated 4 out of 5 meat cleavers!


What do you say to a person like this? Do you just hope that this is some sick kind of joke?

My heroes are Argentina’s Che Guevara, Yemen’s Osama bin Laden, Leila Khaled - international hijacker for the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and all of the women who fight for the FARC and ELN in Colombia. I support armed struggle everywhere that is revolutionary. Revolutionary for me is anything that helps to kill USA imperialism: the Yankee-Gringo Empire of death and lies....

I have listened intently to the political moderates, indigenous people and the New Age gurus in the US, Europe and Colombia. I lent them the benefit of my doubts and I tried to trust their sentiments. I begged them to explain how their path of reforms could succeed. They can not speak beyond hopelessness and delay. They are lost and I take back my ears and my trust from them. If you don’t support armed struggle then you work for the death squads of Uncle Sam the-Yankee-Man.

When A US helicopter crashes anywhere, I celebrate. When a suicide bomber ignites, I am inspired. When GW Bush moves unilaterally with force, my heart beats with excitement. When I see a sniper rifle I want to kiss the sky. To be real in this sickened world is to be on fire!

Against the total fascism of everything associated with Yankee Imperialism and their desperate lies, I spit on the lifestyle of most US citizenry. I spit on their drugged-out, materialistic, individual-mania and their culture that has not one good aspect to it.

For once, I am at a loss for words.

for the love of peace, put your damn clothes back on!

The following link is not safe for work, anyone with eyesight, the faint of heart, people with stomach disorders, people with good taste, anyone prone to nightmares.

I think I just went blind.

Socialists are not an attractive bunch.

hello, my name is ricardo. touch my wiener.

Peta.org is not the only PETA run site. There's at least ten of them out there, including lettuceladies.com.

These lovely ladies are scantily dressed in nothing but outfits that look like lettuce leaves in order to send the message that...that....ummm..

Oh, that dressing up like vegetation and showing your cleavage is a great way to say "Meat Sucks!"

Anyhow, you can adopt a Lettuce Lady if you like. I suggest Kayla:


Sure, Brandi looks like the lettuce lady that will love you long time, and Karla will bite your weenie, but Kayla has the face that launched a thousand burgers.

I figure if I adopt her, I can fatten her up like ala Hansel and Gretel and then throw her on the barbecue for some down-home rib cooking. Something tells me she tastes rather bitter, though. Better use honey-glazed bbq sauce.

And girls, you aren't left out here. There's always the Broccoli boys if lettuce ladies aren't your thing.

Hey, is that a string of weiners around Ricardo's neck?


Oh my god, it is! All American Beef!

Uh oh. Looks like someone is about to get porked!

This is just too easy.

oh give them a home, where the transformers roam...

John Moore wants to know what you would do with U.N. Headquarters.

I think that after we kick out every idiot that roams the halls of that place, we should use it to house all the superheroes of the world.

Just think, Batman wouldn't have to live in a cave anymore. I mean, the dampness cannot be good for him. He needs windows and air.

I bet you could fit the entire Castle Greyskull on the grounds of the U.N. Fly some flags from that baby and no one will mess with us again.

The possibilities are endless. We can call it Tower of Power or something like that.

this guy is funny (and he's a meat-eater)

I just found this post from Joe Green's journal through a comment he left on one of today's posts here. I hope he doesn't mind my repeating it verbatim, but I found it hysterical.

Pick your nose...for PEACE! I was out for a walk today and I saw a Geo Metro (the kind of car Ned Flanders drives, y'know?) and there were a couple of neo-hippie-wannabe bumper stickers on it. One of them said "An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind", and another one said "There is no flag big enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people." To make the cheap emotional maniupation all the more obnoxious, that last one had a little kid's handprint on it.

But there was another sticker on this car: one that said something like "If you follow me too close, you'll get a booger on your windshield!" For SHAME! Doesn't this person know that a booger for a booger leaves the whole world covered in snot?! Won't somebody please think of the CHILDREN?!

The rest of his journal is just as sick/demented/funny and interesting. On to the blogroll with him!

was it good for you?


(another in a series of Eat an Amimal for PETA Day blogging)

Remember kids, even if you have milk in your coffee you are doing your part to piss off David Berg!

Who is David Berg, you ask?


David Berg parades in front of schools in a cow costume. He mentally assaults your children by telling them their parents are abusing them by letting them consume milk and milk products.

Tell your kids that laughing at a grown man who spends his days dressed in an udderly* ridiculous costume is ok.

*see comments for reasons this post was edited. Bite me, Ken.

Oh, I'm made of meat!

rumsfeld joins meat day

Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum. I smell the blood of Saddam Hussein!


I started the day off with McDonald's sausage and hash browns that I'm sure were deep fried in some kind of animal fat.

mmmmm battlecat!

In order to celebrate Eat an Animal for PETA Day properly, you should make sure everyone in your home is partaking in the festivities.

Of course, that means a fifth episode of Action Figures Caught on Tape will be forthcoming today.

While I go prepare my meat-filled menu for the day, you might enjoy this repeat of the Thanksgiving version of AFCOT (#4), which has a delightful meat-eating theme.

Spiderman: I still don't see why we all have to have Thanksgiving mmdance.gif
together. Superheroes, villians, goth people - it's a recipe for disaster!
Batman: Ha! Remember last year? Mark McGwire's head popped off in that free-for-all.
Boba Fett: Yea, the free-for-all that you started!
Skeletor: Shut up, Fett. You were the one that made us play drinking games. It's your fault.
Madman: Now, now, lets not rehash last year. I say we start this year off with something nice. How about we all go around the table and say what we are thankful for?
Evil Ash: Oh, geez. We all gonna pass hold hands and bow our heads in prayer, too?
Buddy Christ: You got a problem with that, bad ass?
Evil Ash: Sorry, Jesus.
Madman: Ok, Spawn, why don't you start?

Spawn stands up, glass of whiskey in his hand.

Spawn: I'm thankful for that outfit Asuka is wearing today.
Hubba Hubba!
He-Man: Hey! You can't talk about my girlfriend like that!
Spawn (laughing maniacally): Yourgirlfriend? I've been sleeping with her for three weeks!
He-Man: Liar!
Asuka: Umm....
He-Man: NOOOOOO! Say it isn't true!!
Asuka: Ummm....
Spawn: Told ya!

He-Man runs from the room crying

Spiderman: Oh, for Christ's sake!
Buddy Christ: Hey, I had nothing to do with this, man.
Madman: Well, let's wait on dinner a bit until we all calm down. Let's watch some football.

They all gather in the living room to watch the game. Fifteen minutes later, there's a crashing sound. He-Man comes swinging through the window on a rope, his feet aimed for Spawn's head. He swings down on top of Spawn. They tumble to the ground and when Spawn stands up, his cape is ripped in half.

Spawn: You son of a bitch! You mother fucking asshole! You are dead! Do you hear me? DEAD!
He-Man: Yea, I'm shaking in my boots, you girlfriend stealer!
Spawn: My fucking cape. I can't believe it. You'll pay for this you asswipe!

Spawn runs from the room, still yelling obscenities.

Skeletor: Well, another fine Thanksgiving this is turning into.
Death: I think it's rather amusing.
Sandman: You would.
Boba Fett: Is that food ready yet? I'm starving.
Madman: The turkey should be just about cooked. Let's go back into the dining room.

Everyone moves towards the dining area while He-Man lingers, looking around.

Evil Ash: What's the matter He-Man, looking for your balls?
He-Man: Shut up, you freak. Hey, has anyone seen Battlecat?
Green Goblin: I think I saw him fucking your girlfriend. HAHAHAH!

They meet the others in the dining area.

Madman: Tada! I present to you the most amazing Thanksgiving meal ever!

Several Street Fighter guys bring in plates heaped with food and set them on the table.

Madman: Edward Scissorhands, would you do the honors, please?
Edward (mumbling): Every year, it's Edward cut the turkey, Edward cut the pies.
Spiderman: That is the hugest turkey I have ever seen. I can't wait to dig in.
He-Man: Where the hell is Battlecat?
Spawn: Really. He was just dying to dig into his plate.

Edward finishes slicing the meat and everyone clamors for the different plates. They dig in right away, eating hungrily and noisily.

Spawn: Hold up! I would like to make a toast before we all stuff ourselves full of this food.

He stands and raises his glass of whiskey, Asuka at his side.

Hans Solo: I have a bad feeling about this...
Spawn: I thought I would not be able to eat this meal, I was so depsondent over He-Man ripping my cape. But there are ways to get over things. A little action from Asuka here didn't hurt....
He-Man (his mouth full of food): You bastards! Do you have to announce it?
Spawn: You know, He-Man, they say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I would much rather serve it hot.
He-Man: What the hell does that mean?
Spawn (mimicing He-Man): Has anyone seen Battlecat?

He-Man and everyone else stop chewing, stop talking and look up at Spawn, forks in midair. Spawn cackles.

Spawn: Enjoying the meat, He-Man?
He-Man (staring down at his plate in horror) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Chaos ensues. Everyone is either puking or running out of the room. He-Man faints. And Boba Fett calmly sits and passes himself some more meat.

Buddy Christ: Another Thanksgiving shot to hell.

Read part 1, 2 and 3.

beware the ides of march

Especially if you are a cow.

The day has finally arrived. Eat an Animal for PETA Day is here and I've started on my journey to consume as many animal-related products as possible in a 24 hour period.

I will be recording an account of all my meat-related activities for the day.

Excuse me while I go cook some breakfast sausage.

she did what to me?

If I don't post anything on Tuesday, it's because I'll be sitting in on this trial.

I have a feeling the "I slept through the entire menage-a-trois with my sister-in-law and brother" defense isn't going to fly.


Evelyn envisions Kofi as a Pokemon:


Gotta catch 'em all, she says.

morning mail

The first email I read this morning was from my father - sent to my trooptrax address - that said simply "I am very proud of you."

I've waited 40 years for that.

March 14, 2003

swimming through apologies1

Stop asking for apologies.

I understand you are upset that so many celebrities and artists are spending so much time in the media talking up the anti-war rhetoric. It pisses me off as well. I write about it often. Mostly it pisses me off when I learn that someone I admired at some point has such a clueless view of the world.

The thing is, they have a right to do this, just as I have a right to make fun of them right here. What I don't have the right to do is demand an apology for them speaking their minds.

No matter how I feel about their politics, their views on war, their feelings for the president or the country, they own that right to have those views and they can spend all the time they want talking about them without having to say they are sorry.

Don't forget what makes this country great. We have the freedom to say whatever the hell we want, when we want and where we want - for the most part.

The Dixie Chicks and Dave Matthews and Susan Sarandon and all the rest of them can talk until their faces turn blue about filling the world will peace and love and hybrid cars and I can write until my hands turn numb about MOAB and Hussein and how I think Ted Rall is an ass. Freedom of speech. Freedom of the press. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

I think it's wrong and egocentric of us to ask someone for an apology for stating their feelings, even if they do it in an idiotic and uniformed manner. Just as some of you would like the Dixie Chicks to say they are sorry for uttering those words about George Bush this week, perhaps some anti-war people would like Ron Silver to apologize for speaking his view that we take out Saddam through force. It works both ways, not one way. Each side thinks they are right.

You may not agree with anything the other side says, but that doesn't mean they owe you an apology for voicing their views. If we ask that, then we are forgetting what we are fighting for in the first place.

Do you really want to live in a country where people have to make public apologies for insulting the president? Isn't that the kind of thing we are trying to get rid of?

Hate them, ridicule them, throw their records away or never watch their movies again if that's what you feel you have to do. But remember one thing: Freedom is never having to say you're sorry2.

1 Berlin, Metro
2I mean this in the example set forth here, not in the broader sense

nancy? where's my slippers?

I am Ronald Reagan.

Go figure.

Republican - You believe that the free market will
take care of most things, but that the
government should be there with moderate
taxation to provide for national defense and
enforcing morality. Your historical role model
is Ronald Reagan.

Which political sterotype are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

now playing

Thanks to Solonor you can now see what songs I have been listening to on the Winamp - over in the sidbar. You can't miss it.

Feel free to make fun of me at any time.

And I'll feel free to tell you to bite me.

Solly is the shizznit.

Hm..anyone know how often this playlist changes? I guess it doesn't keep up with me.

(I turned it off for now)


People are animals, too.

So, while you are eating your meat-laden meals tomorrow, please indulge to the hilt and watch a cannibal movie while you feast on the flesh of dead animal carcass.

May I suggest Ravenous with that burger?

boxed meat

I am going to order this lunchbox tonight:


my ding-a-ling

What better way to start of MEAT NIGHT than with this Achewood strip?

Can't. Stop. Laughing.

Oh and it reminds me of this:

My mother used to take us to concerts at Westbury Music Fair all the time. It's a small venue and was home mostly to local theater groups doing musicals and doo-wop revues.

Chuck Berry came to town one summer and my mother dragged us with her, to give us some "culture." I will never forget that my mother's version of culture included a 25 minute sing-a-long to this song:

When I was a little biddy boy
My grandma bought me a cute little toy
Two Silver bells on a string
She told me it was my ding-a-ling-a-ling

My Ding-A-Ling My Ding-A-Ling won't you play with My Ding-A-Ling
My Ding-A-Ling My Ding-A-Ling won't you play with My Ding-A-Ling

When I was little boy In Grammar school
Always went by the very best rule
But Evertime the bell would ring
You'd catch me playing with my ding-a-ling

Once while climbing the garden wall,
Slipped and fell had a very bad fall
I fell so hard I heard birds sing,
But I held on to My ding-a-ling

Once while swimming cross turtle creek
Man them snappers right at my feet
Sure was hard swimming cross that thing
with both hands holding my dingaling

Now this here song it ain't so bad
Prettiest little song that you ever had
And those of you who will not sing
must be playing with your on Ding-a-ling

breaker 1-9, this here's the rubber duck

It's Friday night. That means the kids are gone, Justin is working and I am ready to play that funky music, white boy.

In between margaritas and my shameless reciting of cheesy song lyrics while I listen to Netscape Radio, tonight will have a theme.

Yes, tonight's blogging madness is brought to you by MEAT. Red, raw, bloody meat. Tomorrow is Eat an Animal for PETA Day and I'm about to get you all psyched for it.

Well, at least the two of you that are home on a Friday night and reading blogs.

Oh, this is not a good omen. The first song to come up on the playlist tonight is Convoy.

i love referrer logs

So this is what happens when you get good publicity.

This cretin on some message board took all the sites that were listed in the WaPo article today and posted them on this board with the header: Some interesting reading.(Anyone a Hacker...)

and then: Pro War...
Anti Inteligence.
Ach well freedom of speech N all that.Some very non thought oiut arguments, rhetoric, bushism's, etc

Well, besides the fact that intelligence has two L's and there's a typo in out (talk about non-though out), he has the audacity to call the troop/war supporters sites full of non-intelligence and rhetoric and meanwhile he makes the call-out for a hacker.

I took a screen shot just in case.

Thanks for the intelligent discourse, assclown.

Yea, that

would some technogeek like to help me humiliate myself?

So, Matt Haughey came up with a way to use trackback to show what's currently playing in your Winamp. Oliver made it sound oh, so easy, so I went and took a look at Matt's instructions and my head exploded.

I'll give a dollar and a beer to anyone who would like to implement this neat trick on my blog. Just think of how much you could make fun of me when you see what I'm listening to. Worth the price of admission alone.

[deletes all references to 70's disco from playlist]

you're a blind one, mr. blix

Every day, it becomes more evident that Hans Blix is working his own personal political/social agenda in his role at the U.N.

This interview (with MTV) is quite revealing. However, it's not the part about Blix being more afraid of global warming than major military conflict that bothers me most. Instead, it's this passage:

lix: Because the root causes are even more difficult to tackle then the symptoms of it. To wield the big stick and strike here and there and have big surveillance of telephones or whatnot, that can be done, but to get at the social conditions — better democracy, more education in the Middle East, giving the hope for the many youngsters in that part of the world — now that's harder. Look at the Palestinians with the huge, huge percentage of unemployed. What does that breed? Anyone who's unemployed in the world, you feel there's no meaning and there's a risk that you drift over to something desperate. Yes, we have to tackle the social problems as well. [emphasis added]

No, Mr. Blix. Palestinian terrorists are not bred by unemployment. They are bred by mothers and fathers who train their children to hate and murder. They are bred by a "government" that enourages killers. They are bred by other leaders, like Saddam Hussein, who reward them. They are bred through an education of lies, propaganda, hatred, bigotry and evil.

Perhaps if the education of Palestinian children did not revolve around blood, revenge and martyrdom, peace would come to that area. You cannot have peace when generation after generation is taught the opposite.

Until the Palestinians themselves stop breeding terrorists, the root cause of terrorism in the middle east is the elder generations who propogate the cult of death and destruction.

When there is peace, there will be jobs. But there will not be peace until the brainwashing of the children of Palestinians stops.

I don't expect Hans Blix to grasp this concept because he does not want to. Blix would be comfortable out on the mall in Washington D.C. with a sign that says "what has Iraq done to us?" and cheering the A.N.S.W.E.R. folks then he is in his current position.

in the press

Rallying Around the Flag Online

WaPo does an article on pro-war blogging/supporting the troops on line. A whole bunch of my faves get mentioned and so does TroopTrax.

what do you think?

(via reader Kevin Black)

There's making a point and then there's making a point.

This is just unnecessary.


From Slate.

update: I do get the point and I agree.

I have been in 9/11 mode all week and I'm feeling ultra sensitive.

And yea, I'm PMS, so shut it.

overkill happens so fast these days

Ok, we get it. Elizabeth Smart is home. We are all incredibly happy at this turn of events.

Now, please stop interviewing every person who has known, gone to church with, sat next to at a movie theater or once saw Elizabeth at a birthday party six years ago.

Right now, Katie Couric or one of those other smiling bitches is interviewing the kidnapper's kids. They have basically no memory of him, as they have stated many times in the past few minutes.

Daughter: I only have that one memory of him choking my mom, that's it.
Son: I only remember his presence. I have no specific memories

Katie: Do you remember any specific instances of being abused by him.

Hello? Are you a sadistic idiot, Katie? Don't answer that.

And then they interview his long-ago wife and ask her to speculate on what Elizabeth's time as a captive might have been like.

Let the girl readjust to her life without turning it into a Jessica's Well Sideshow Circus.

Aren't we about a day away from war? Should every news channel really be scheduling interviews with the cousin of the next door neighbor of the woman who thought she saw Elizabeth two months ago in Bumfuck, Iowa?

Oh, I hear there's some kitten stuck in a tree in Wisconsin! The hell with Colin Powell and Saddam! Send the news vans to the kitties!!

Patricia Hearst? They are dredging that up now? It's not even a slow news day.

Man, I need some sleep.

gathering of dust

Sour Bob sums up the break-up of a marriage and the road to healing in such eloquent manner.

Interesting that I came across that this morning (I had never read Sour Bob, found him through a link and immediately blogrolled him) as I was going to start putting together some of my longer or more serious essays on a separate blog. Sour Bob's essay reminded me of this one of my own:

The Art of Being Divorced

There's this strange thing about being divorced. It's that you live in constant knowledge that on some level, you failed. It's a daily thing, something that never goes away, that hovers in your mind and occasionally smacks you in the face to remind you. I am an ex. Not just any kind of ex, because I've been exes before. Ex-girlfriend, ex-catholic, ex-English major, ex-Jets fan. But this ex is different because there is a legality to it that makes it binding and forever and public knowledge. I can always deny having been Jean Bergeron's girlfriend in 11th grade. It's not something I have to think about every day. But each day, when I look at my kids or put the child support payment in the bank, or see my ex at one of DJ's games or Natalie's plays, I am faced with it. I failed. Yes, he failed too. And in a much bigger way than I. And I bet he thinks about that every day, too.

I've moved on, I've rectified, I've rearranged and refurnished and adjusted nicely to my role as ex-wife. Granted, it's easier to be an ex when you are a current. I don't have to (any longer) think about being alone or lonely or making dinners for one or finding someone to have a conversation with. Hell, I did that all when I was married anyhow. My point is, some people wear the role of ex like an ill fitting suit. And some people wear it like a slinky cocktail dress. Me, I've grown from wearing that one size too small pair of pants to some real baggy comfortable overalls. And sneakers. My ex, on the other hand, still walks around like David Byrne in an oversized suit, drowning in its hugeness. It's been 4 years. 4 years officially. The marraige was all but null and void years before it became stamped on a piece of paper that it was over. And still, he can't seem to get used to the title of The Ex. Even now, with a girlfriend and potential step kids, he still looks at me like I robbed his piggy bank. He still stands at the opposite end of the field at DJ's games and sits on the other side of the auditorium at Natalie's plays.

I am a constant reminder to him of his failures. I know this. Just as he is of mine. But I try to look at it differently. While I will always and forever walk around knowing I failed in that aspect of my life, and it's a big one, I also look at him as a turning point in my life. I look at him and see what I've become since. While I will always be the an ex-wife, that is not necessarily an evil, horrible thing to carry around. Because it also means that at some point I thought more of myself than the need to be with a person who thought nothing of me. It means I rose up above the fray and gave myself a voice.

You live, you learn and you take all those lessons with you. You also take labels and tags and whatever the them in us v. them lays on you, and you make of it what you will. Once divorced, once severed from the hand that held you down, you assume the title of ex. But you get to un-assume all the titles that you hated. Fair enough trade off.

(originally posted 9/25/01)

sword envy

At a gathering of poets against the war in Southhampton, Long Island last night, poet Joan Gassisi has this to say:

"I just had to bear witness," she said. "A battlefield used to be a legitimate place for people to prove their valor ... now its [just] technology."

So, if we were using muskets and bayonets in attempt to prove how courageous and bold we are, this war would be ok?

If I'm reading Ms. Gassisi's words correctly, she would have no problem with the U.S. Army invading Canada with nothing but ninja swords just to show the rest of the world how big our collective penis is. Right?

and then they dressed her up like robert smith...

We were all wrong in regards to our Elizabeth Smart theories.

She was actually held hostage by a cult of Goths who tried to brainwash her by making her listen to Bauhaus and Joy Division 24 hours a day.

My god. People are so, so cruel.


What has Saddam done to us, you ask?

A defiant Saddam Hussein, under intense international scrutiny for possible ties to terrorism, this week distributed $225,000 to 21 families of Palestinians killed in fighting with Israel, including $25,000 to the family of a Hamas suicide bomber.

In all, Iraq has paid more than $35 million to families of militants - including relatives of scores of suicide bombers - and slain Palestinian civilians in support of the 29-month-old Palestinian uprising against Israel.

I do believe there have been Americans killed in those suicide attacks, no?

There. Does that soothe your isolationist nerves about this war, now?

No? Didn't think so.

via tvh

March 13, 2003

get that damn screwdriver out of my head!

Some of my favorite movie lines, apropos of the post from this morning:

Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?

He must have thought it was white boy day. It ain't white boy day, is it?

Death is... whimsical... today.

It's when you start to become really afraid of death that you learn to appreciate life.

They're coming to get you, Barbara!

Oh my God, the quarterback is toast.

Please don't kill me freaky Jason.

Sorry about the mess.

Amoebas don't make motorcycles and atomic bombs!

You tripped, fell on the floor and accidently stuck your dick into my wife.

Puff puff, give. Puff puff, give. You're fuckin' up the rotation.

You got knocked the fuck out.

I kick ass for the Lord.

The 90's are killing me. I shouldn't have done that. You're not supposed to tell a guy you're gonna kill him no more. Taking all the fun out of the job.

What, you thought I would tell you the movie, too? That's your job.

And that's only about 1/100th of my favorite movie lines.

Girl's gotta eat and drink sometimes, you know.

a day in the life: 1,000 words about 4 long hours

Sometimes it's the simple moments that can turn your world on it's side and back again.

I took DJ to the doctor today. What started out as a simple rush to the pediatrician to get some antibiotics for another low-grade winter ailment turned into a trip to the radiologist.

X-Rays, a whole set of them. Me standing outside the room for my own protection and the whirr, click and flash of the x-ray machine coming through the door as I imagined all sorts of nasty things inside my son's body smiling for the doctor's camera. All the diseases that can run through your mind in the space of one long minute lined up for some contagious class picture, crowding DJ's intenstines and pancreas and heart, mugging for their first photo-op in ten years.

I flashed back to when DJ was 18 months old. A hospital corridor, lit with the ugly glow of flourescent bulbs at 3am, a nurse admonishing me and sending me down the hall to the vending machine because it would do me no good to watch DJ explode in angry pain while getting a spinal tap.

Back in the present, I tap my foot impatiently and finally picture day is over. We are scooted down the hall into the sonogram room, where DJ is told to lay down on the table and pull his shirt up. He looks so small there. So much like a baby.

It's odd that I've dreamed about him all week as a baby. Every night in my dreams, DJ is an infant or a toddler. He is in a bassinett or a stroller and one of those nights there were cobwebs in his cradle, as if I hadn't looked there in years.

And now the radiologist is rubbing her magic sonogram wand with jelly and running it on over my baby's belly, in much the same way my belly was rubbed when I heard DJ's heartbeat for the first time. He's crying. Of course he's crying, he's terrified. The radiologist does her best to soothe him but this poor kid - he woke up this morning with a fever and a cough and he just wanted to lay in bed all day and read comic books and not miss school in the least. Now, there is no place he would rather be if it means he didn't have to be in this dimly lit room, staring at his bladder on a monitor.

I watch the screen in horror. I see lumps that look like villians and holes that shouldn't be there and big, ugly masses with monster-like faces grinning at me. There's his pancreas - is a pancreas supposed to look like that? And his kidney -it looks more like blob of play-doh. Of course, everthing I see looks scary and ugly because I have no idea what these things look like when they are normal. A kidney looks like a rich person's swimming pool, right?

And then an hour has passed by and we are done. We sit in the waiting room. And sit. And sit.

DJ's fever is spiking. I forgot in this blur of radioactivity that he had a cold when he woke up this morning and that's what led us to be here. He falls asleep with his feet curled up on the chair and his head in my lap. He looks so small. He feels so hot.

I don't read the magazines while I wait. I turn down the offer of the New York Times from the lady with the blue silk scarf. I don't even look at the closed caption words under Ari Fleischer's head on CNN. I just sit. My foot taps. My heart races. I wait.

Have you ever lost your child in the supermarket or on the playground? Five, ten, fifteen seconds. It all seems like forever as every single made-for-tv movie flashes through your mind and kidnapping, murder, and falling down a well scenarios play out in your head. Your heart stops but your mind doesn't. Your entire body goes numb as you are sure your child is gone, gone, gone forever and you wish you didn't spend the entire morning fighting over the green pants he insisted on wearing with the orange shirt.

Those seconds are endless. When your child comes running into your arms - he was just over there on that slide - you could swear he was gone for hours. It only takes seconds for fear to screw with you.

I sit in that waiting room and time ticks away. Seconds. Minutes. Over an hour. In parent-waiting-to-hear-news standard time, that's days. I had run through every disease DJ could possibly have and started in on more absurd things. He swallowed poison. He's the victim of biological terror. He's allergic to fruit roll-ups.

90 minutes. Finally, the receptionist comes out, only to tell me to go home and call Dr. Andy. He has the results.

I race home, doing Mad-Libs with DJ the whole way so as not to think about Dr. Andy pacing back and forth in his office, tapping his pencil on his clipboard and thinking about the easiest way to tell me the news.

And then the whole thing is over. For now. Dr. Andy tells me the equivalent of "your child was on that slide the whole time you were looking for him." It's not a disease, it's not a death sentence, it's not weeks in and out of hospitals and pleading on television for celebrities to come together and hold a benefit concert to find a cure to fruit-roll up allergy.

It's manageable. Dr. Andy prescribes patience, time and a litany of medical and ritualistic endeavors I must undertake in tandem with DJ to make this thing go away. Dr. Andy says, you have no idea how I relieved I am that it's something so small and manageable. Oh, but I do.

I breath a sigh of relief - a huge sigh that seems to push out with its breath all the fear and irrational thinking that consumed me today. I am left with an exhaustion that wraps itself around me like tentacles.

I just have a ten year old boy with a cold and some stomach problems. After the time I spent in that dark space between not knowing and knowing today, that sounds like winning lotto.

Where have I been all day?

A routine trip to DJ's doctor turned into a trip to the radiologist and x-rays and sonograms and all the stuff that comes with that.

Nothing life threatening, just some things that need to be taken care of.

And now, I need a nap.

ted rall is still a festering sore on the face of mankind

I was going to fisk the current Ted Rall spittle, but I have to get DJ to the doctor now.

Honestly, I think the only thing you need to know about this piece of crap is the title:


The man is worthless.

good..bad...i'm the guy with the gun

Oh! Something fun after something depressing and morbid.

An immortal comment from Michael Caine in The Italian Job has been named the greatest one-liner in cinema.

Movie fans say the Caine's classic pay-off: "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off" is the top screen line.

The poll was taken in Britian, which explains the Michael Caine thing.

The top ten lines were:

Top 10 Film lines:
1. "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off" - The Italian Job;
2. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn" - Gone with the Wind;
3. "We want the finest wines available to humanity, we want them here and we want them now" - Withnail and I;
4. "You talkin' to me?" - Taxi Driver;
5. "I love the smell of napalm in the morning" - Apocalypse Now;
6. "I'll have what she's having ..." - When Harry met Sally;
7. "All my life I wanted to be a gangster" - Goodfellas;
8. "I do wish we could chat longer. But I'm having an old friend for dinner" - Silence of the Lambs;
9. "Infamy, Infamy, they've all got it in for me" - Carry on Cleo;
10. "He's not the Messiah - he's a very naughty boy" - Life of Brian.

BBC Radio also did an opposing poll:

Andie MacDowell's cringeworthy "Is it raining? I hadn't noticed" from Four Weddings and a Funeral was voted the worst line.

I think we can come up with something better than Michale Caine, no? Have at it. (Best or Worst lines, doesn't matter)

as seen on MeFi, which is the place to go when you want to think about something besides war.l

when the music's over

Sleep deprivation comes in the form of a child with a high fever and aching cough. When I did sleep the world was ending and I couldn't find my way home. Each time I woke it was with a start; as if some long, bony finger had just poked me in the side.

Of course, that bony finger is attached to a presence and that presence has a name: War.

So, do we go to war on the basis of 1441, telling everyone else to take a flying leap, or do we ply a few other nations with goodies and go for the new resolution?

I'm reminded of my high school election in sophomore year, where most of the would-be student body presidents handed out candy, balloons and smiley face stickers.

The person who won was the one who handed out pot and brought the beer to the parties. He made a damn fine president too, even though that swimming pool deal never panned out.

So what do we give to Mexico or Chile or Pakistan to convince them to play along? Free beer? Women? Passes to Disneyworld?

Maybe we could promise Mexico that we will stop calling Taco Bell mexican food.

We are doing the dance of death, waiting for the clock to strike midnight when everyone takes off their masks to reveal their true colors. It's a creepy little dance, with the tempo constantly changing so it's hard to keep pace. Forward two steps, to the right, to the left, back five steps, sway and dip. The music gets faster, the dance gets more complicated. Partners switch and turn in some macabre dosi-do as we all stare at the clock, waiting for the strike.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Who will be your partner when it's midnight and the dance is over? What lies behind the mask that Mexico or Chile wears - the face of the chicken or the face of a lion?

trooptrax live!

Reader, commenter and TroopTrax co-conspirator Carol will be on WKSY in Gainesville Florida this morning at 8:35 talking about the project.

I'm trying to figure out if/where you can listen to it online.

on waking....

Are we there yet?

March 12, 2003

and here i thought it was aliens

The rebuttal always is: It's a conspiracy.

Because not only did the anti-war faction have nothing to do with the destruction of a 9/11 memorial this week, it was in fact the pro-war faction that did and the blamed the anti-war people in order to make them look bad.

Can you get a new gimmick, guys? The conspiracy angle is getting really old.

via I.P.

i'm going to get sued for this one

Another poster for the cause:


don't forget the animals!

My first attempt at something for Eat an Animal for Peta Day

(click for uneccesarily huge size)

update Beaker made a neat poster, too.

John of Blogs o' War has one

sorry, i ain't feeling it

[insert retching sound here]

It's not just For the Children™ anymore. It's By the Children™.

How manipulative.

Found via Juan Gato, via Emily via Kerry....(and so on and so on)

catching up

I meant to link these two things earlier. I apologize to the people in question for the delay.

First, the late edition of Carnival of the Vanities is up and running at The Daily Rant.

Second, I alluded to a project that Susanna of Cut on the Bias and Mike of Cold Fury were working on last week. It is now open for your viewing pleasure.

Home Front is a registry of companies that are paying either full salary or the differential between full salary and military pay to the National Guard and Reserve Troops mobilized for deployment in the gulf.

They will be encouraging people to support the companies listed by buying their products and services if possible, or just writing them a note of thanks.

many American companies are going beyond the call of their legal responsibility and helping the men and women called to active duty by not only paying them the legally-required minimum, but by either making up the difference between their active-duty stipend and their usual salary, or even by paying their usual salary in full. Again, this is no small hardship for these employers; it involves some pretty major sacrifices. No one has pressured them to do this; no one has threatened boycotts if they don't. They've done it out of a sense of duty, decency and patriotism.

So the intention of this site is to honor that generous decision, and to publicize it as much as possible. We hope that you'll support these fine businesses with your dollars, with a word of thanks, with a letter or e-mail expressing your appreciation for what they're doing. They deserve it. Think of this as a sort of reverse-boycott, if you will.

Home Front: Go have a look.

nine months later...

Wow. They found Elizabeth Smart. Alive.

I cannot imagine the overwhelming joy and relief her family is feeling right now.

Hooray for good news.

Meat. It’s what’s for cooking.*

Eat an Animal for Peta Day is only three days away. I’m going to make some posters tonight, maybe cook up a few photoshop delicacies and send them over to Meryl.

Some of you may think meat is murder. I think meat is meant to be eaten. Otherwise, why would cows be separated into such nice, easy-to-slice compartments? It’s almost like a fatty jigsaw puzzle ready to be baked, broiled or grilled.

I think this is a good time to roll out my hot dog poem.

i think that i shall never eat
a substance more devoid of meat
than the hot dog i ate last night
but damn, i did eat every bite.

and when i was done i ate another
so did my sister and my mother
i would have gone for three or four
if there had been any more.

hot dogs are the food of gods
despite the arteries they clog
in the oven, on the grill
floating in a watery swill

mustard (yellow), saurkraut
that's what summer's all about
pile them high upon the plates
don't talk to me about nitrates

no turkey, tofu, chicken filler
real meat hot dogs are what's killer
so please don't call me a big ol' meanie
when i won't share my all-beef weenie.

Share a meat poem. Do it for the children. Do it for all the cows and pigs and turkeys and chickens who want nothing more than to fulfill their destiny of becoming someone’s dinner. Do it for me.

Meat. It’s what’s for cooking.

*Not only did I have several glasses of wine at a birthday lunch today, but I forgot to take my Paxil this morning. You may not want to point out any typos as this could result in my either wanting to kiss you or kill you, depending on which side effect of which circumstance has taken control

beastie boys: the good old days

Just because:

lti.jpgGirls - to do the dishes
Girls - to clean up my room
Girls - to do the laundry
Girls - and in the bathroom
Girls - that's all I really want is girls
Two at a time - I want girls
With new wave hairdos - I want girls

"I'm Mike D. and I get respect
Your cash and your jewelry is what I expect"
M.C.A. was with it and he's my ace
So I grabbed the piano player and I punched him in the face
The piano player's out - the music stopped
His boy had beef - and he got dropped
Mike D. grabbed the money - M.C.A. snatched the gold
I grabbed two girlies and a beer that's cold.

What time is it?

today's fun fun fun

Don't forget to go play in Saddam's Bouncy Castle of Fun today.

Does anyone mind if I go out for Chinese food today? Is that acceptable?

have you forgotten: sap that sells

I had an interesting juxtaposition of musical moments on the way home from work yesterday.

On WABC, Sean Hannity was interviewing Daryl Worley, composer of the now-playing-everywhere hit Have You Forgotten.

I switched off the show. I just do not like that song, which I will get to in a minute.

On K-Rock, the afternoon DJs, Cabby and Cane, were introducing the latest Beastie Boys single, In a World Gone Mad, an anti-war anti-bush, anti-whatever the world is against these days song.* Yea, I didn't like that song either.

I have this thing against songs that mention real or imagined tragedies, or engage in overwrought attempts to pull people together. Hell, I can't even listen to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald or 1941 New York Mining Disaster without my breaking out in hives. Even Space Oddity leaves me reaching for the anti-itch ointment.

After the Oklahoma City bombing, radio stations across the country reached new heights in manufactured sappiness when someone mixed Live's Lightning Crashes with soundbites from the news reports of the event. I could not for the life of me understand why people wanted to listen to that. Over and over and over, day in and day out for weeks at a time, until the news waned and America moved on to other news, the song played on every single radio station across the land.

And then came September 11, 2001 and for the days after, U2's Stuck in a Moment became the anthem and while some radio stations attempted to throw sound bites over the music, I didn't stick around long enough to listen. Tragedies and disasters stand the test of time on their own. They don't need soundtracks to remind us of the pain or the devastation.

So now we have Daryl Worley - whose personal photographer must have a degree in Fashion Photography - singing about September 11. The song falls into my special category reserved for songs like Christmas Shoes (What if momma meets Jesus tonight?); I call them flesh-eating songs. See the skin-crawling thing above.

Have you forgotten how it felt that day
to see your homeland under fire
and her people blown away
have you forgotten when those towers fell
we had neighbors still inside
going through a living hell
and you say we shouldn't worry about bin laden
have you forgotten

Instead of bringing me to my knees in prayer or making me want to run out and hold my neighbor's hand as we get ready to fight the good fight, the lyrics make me want to crawl under a rock.

In the same way I cringe whenever a musical artist uses his own name in a song, the use of the name bin Laden - rhymed with forgotten - makes me almost want to break out in a fit of giggles.

Yes, I know the song is supposed to be heavily serious. And as much as bin Laden makes me giggle, the use of the imagery of 9/11 is what really makes me skin crawl.

On the other side, we have the Beastie Boys.

Now don’t get us wrong ‘cause we love America
But that’s no reason to get hysterica
They’re layin’ on the syrup thick
We ain’t waffles we ain’t havin’ it

No wonder they haven't recorded anything in five years. They forgot how to write.

It doesn't take them long to come up with the phrase that pays:

Now how many people must get killed?
For oil families pockets to get filled?
How many oil families get killed?
Not a damn one so what’s the deal?

Is this the best the anti-war side has to offer? Country Joe must be turning over in his grave. If he's dead, I mean.

I am an equal opporunity "theme of the moment" song hater. Left, right, whichever way the song is leaning, I'm probably not going to listen to it.

And I'm not going to listen if you conjure up images of something tragic (how soon before we get a Great White Fire ballad?), talk about children pining away for dead parents, tack on an "if we are all just nice to each other the heavens will open and bunnies will rain down from the sky" moral to the lyrics, or throw quotes from Wolf Blitzer over some lyrics that are meant to make you cry as if you just watched Julia Roberts die in Steel Magnolias.

Give me that old time rock.


*(Both Cabby and Cane went out of their way to explain that the song in no way reflected their views. One of them - I think Cabby - is a Gulf War vet)

update: Matthew Stinson has fisked the Beastie Boys song.

link o' the day

If you would like to see how a real interview is conducted (as opposed to my ambush interview style) please go read Dean Esmany's chat with Chris Muir, creator of the Day by Day cartoon strip.

what's your price for flight?

Do I need to delink James Lileks?

If you read the very last line of today's Bleat, you will see what I mean.

I'm not sure, but that may have been directed towards me. And somehow, I just can't imagine Greedo dancing to Night Ranger anyhow.

I'm thinking of turning Sister Christian into a midi and embedding it in the page.


Thanks to Andrea for pointing this out so early. I usually don't get to the Bleat until lunchtime.

March 11, 2003

watch me shift my pole

Prepare for the pole shift!

Funny, that's what my husband usually says at about 3am.

Except this pole shift requires a mattress, a folding saw and thick protective gloves.

Funny, that's what...


via MeFi

You did go read my interview with Joe, right?


If you are trying to reach me at michelle@asmallvictory.net, it's not going to get there.

You know why?


want to freedom kiss me?

I'm sorry, but this is completely assinine.

favor time

Got a few spare bucks laying around today? Give them to Sean-Paul. Just go see why, ok?

The joe mcnally interview

[This is the second in a series of blogger mad-lib style intervies. This means that Joe did not answer, nor did I ask him, a single question. He had no idea what was going to be the end result of my email asking him for verbs, nouns etc. I didn't even know what the subject would be ahead of time]

Today's interview is with Joe McNally. You may know him from his blog, Short Strange Trip, but Joe is going to be known for more than that soon if his plans come to fruition. Why don't I let him tell you all about it?

ME: Welcome, Joe. Thank you for joining us today.
JOE: Thank you for having me. So to speak.
ME: So, tell us about this new blog you are launching.
JOE: Well, it's called ZOTS!
ME: Zots?
JOE: No, ZOTS! You have to pronounce the word as if it were puslating!
ME: I see. ZOTS!
JOE: Yes! Better. I don't have to stomp on your face now.
ME: Hmm?
JOE: Nevermind. I may have taken too many Motrins today. Tends to make me incoherent.
ME: Are you sure you want to do this?
JOE: Yes, I must. The launch party for the blog is this weekend. I must get the word out. PageSix isn't going to cover this party if I just sit here and moan over this nasty skin eruption that's making me itch like Bill Cimino watching Martina Navratilova and Janet Reno go at it.
ME: ..........
JOE: Motrin...
ME: Right. So why would PageSix cover a blog launch party?
JOE: Because it's a gossip blog.
ME: Oh, come on! That's been done before.
JOE: Not this way. I have cunningly put together two hot topics in one.
Not just blog gossip. Not just celebrity gossip. Bloggers Caught With Celebrities gossip! Two hot, hot things brought together at last. Sort of like the Olsen twins if they were conjoined.
ME: That's the Motrin speaking, right?
JOE: No, not all. Tell me the thought of those girls joined at the hip doesn't make your loins bake like you just poured a bottle of warmed-upTough Actin' Tinactin down your pants.
Please tell me that's the motrin speaking.

ME: Anyhow, is there enough blogger-on-celebrity gossip to make this worthwhile?
JOE: If there wasn't, would I have given up my job washing cars to concentrate on this? I don't think so. In fact, there's enough of it to give me blogging fodder for at least the next seven years.
ME: Give us a little preview.
JOE: How's this for starters: Sekimori. Mickey Rourke. A plate of shrimp. A bidet. Huh?
ME: Wow, are you serious?
JOE: I never lie. Try this one on: Laurence Simon has started a death metal band with Atrios.
JOE: YES! Dogs sleeping with cats, I know. There first single will be called "Bleeding Spiral." Personally, I found the music to be a bit shaky and the lyrics quite boorish, but some people go for this kind of thing.
ME: Give us one more rumor.
JOE: RUMOR?? Did you say RUMOR?
JOE: I do not deal in rumors, my dear. Every item that will appear on
ZOTS! will be verifiably, indubitably true. And brought to you by YooHoo(tm).
ME: What, no Raging Cow?
JOE: Mooooo!
ME: Umm. Yes. So, the party...
JOE: Oh my, it is going to be GRAND!
ME: Where and when?
JOE: This Friday night at Der Wienerschnitzel on East Broadway.
ME: How about a few more tidbits from the ZOTS! file?
JOE: Ok, just a few, though. I can't give all my good stuff away. First,
there's that little matter of NC and Kevin Parrot flagellating John McCain in the men's room of the Nike factory in Panama.
ME: Oh my. Tell me more!>
JOE: All I know is that McCain was bent over the toilet bowl yelling "Call meHerb Tarlek!" He was dressed in snakeskin, ala Jim Morrison, and NC was making him eat a banana out of a styrofoam cup.
ME: Motrin?
JOE: Oh god, yes. I'm sorry. That story isn't true at all. It was really
my best friend Sean. And umm.. Susan Sarandon. With a pogo stick">pogo stick . In the billiard room.
ME: Those weren't Motrin at all Joe, were they?
JOE: No. No, they weren't. Are you still going to plug ZOTS! for me?
ME:Of course. Just leave me out of it.
(Joe passed out at this point, thus ending the interview)

Joe McNally is much taller in person than he is on his blog. He is also devastatingly handsome and wore a tophat throughout the entire interview.

Just a tophat.

The preceding was brough to you by mad-lib style interviewing. Any resemblance to the real Joe McNally is strictly coincidental, even though he did provide all the pertinent information, including answering the question "name a man you would like to shag" with the answer Janet Reno.

The next victim scheduled for some kind of interview is Dave of Acerbia. If you would like to submit to my amazing word stylage (I made that word up), just let me know. Fo Shizzle.

as the stomach turns

I don't even know what to say about this disgusting act.

Tell me again that the peace protesters are just pro-peace and not anti-American.


I am so sick over this.

it's written in invisible blogger ink

/insert work-related rant here.

/end rant.

Thanks for listening.

war anxiety

(like talking about the war, but not)

I was busy writing something. It came out the depths and onto my WordPerfect screen and after ten minutes of my fingers blurring over the keyboards, I had to stop. Pause. Breathe.

I went to see what Steven DenBeste was up to today and coincidentally he was up to the same thing as me. Talking about fear.
Last night I wrote about being tired. I do believe that my fatigue is borne out of terror. If you say are not afraid of the near future, you are lying to yourself.

Like Steven, I worry. Sure, I’m a worrier by nature. I fret about things I have no control over and things I shouldn’t care about. Mountains out of molehills, as my father says.

But these things are real. The threat is real. I worry about odorless gas sneaking its way into my office building. I worry about militants storming the schools and taking our children hostage. I lie awake and night and imagine all kinds of horrors - poisoning, fires, plagues of disease-infected bugs placed in our path.

I dream about retaliation. I dream about nuclear warheads and rogue countries. I wake up short of breath, sometimes crying, sometimes reluctant to go back to sleep.

I think a lot about the end result of not going to war. Neither option is pretty. Neither option is without its detractions. And the longer the wait goes on, the deeper the roots of my fears grow, the more entangled and twisted they become as they clamp down on my brain and take hold. One fear becomes many. Soon I can’t tell any of them apart.

The gas, the fires, the explosions, the torture, the starvation, the children crying, the soldiers dying, the smile on Saddam’s face, the collective smirk of France; they all become one and the same. Just a dark, hovering presence that tails me hour after hour, day after day, even crawling into bed with me at night.

And much like Steven and so many others, I just want the inevitable to come and go. I want the war to start so the war can finish and the thick roots of darkness can start dissipating.

The Acerbia War DeStresser(tm) sit back and enjoy the hypnotic bouncing

even a cutting-edge sheep still says baaaa

CNN on blogs:

But as more people have embraced the concept, what once seemed like a passing fancy has morphed into a cutting-edge phenomenon that may provide the platform for the Internet's next wave of innovation and moneymaking opportunities.

I hate being part of a cutting-edge phenomenon.

I still have the remnants of all my other excursions into that territory.

Pet rocks, anyone? Well, that was cutting-edge back in the day. I still have my Vic-20. And weren't those scooters considered cutting-edge at some point?

Does this mean the blog is going to go the way of hula hoops, the Atari and pogs?

Fine, I'll still be here at the end, like some little kid still playing with Pokemon when everyone else has moved on to Yu Gi Oh. You go on with your video blogging and voice blogging and pet-cam blogging. Ten years from now when you are all doing this with voice recognition technology in your hovercrafts while on your way to a meeting at Spacely Sprockets, I'll still be the old fashioned person sitting at the keyboard, typing away. I'll probably belong to some Yahoo group named Old Skool Bloggers.

"Now there are people like me coming along and trying to figure out how to package it. It's time to take it to the next level."

Why does everything have to go to the next level? What's wrong with the status quo?

The way bloggers link and influence each other's thinking could lead to a collective thought process, "a kind of hive brain," said Chris Cleveland, who runs Dieselpoint, a Chicago maker of search software that recently worked with Blogger.com.

The geeks have taken over the asylum. And do you know what sound a "collective thought process" makes? Baaaaaa. Baaaaa. You heard of mob mentality? Well now there's blog mentality. And advetisers and marketing gurus and placing all their chips on the sheep.

The future of blogging is not in the creative writing, the mainstream news or in changing the world, one post at a time. It's in money. It's in sheep.

Imagine, 4,000 kids all blogging about one product in one day. 250 15 year old kids leaving comments on one blog about how much they love PinkPassion lipstick.

The kind of blogging we do now - thinking, conversing, challenging, writing - is going to go the way of Olivetti typewriters as the paid-for-by-Pepsi blogs take over and we are all left standing here holding our Pokemon cards.

(as seen at Jack's place)

March 10, 2003

drinkin' rum and coca-cola

I'm just about to go to bed (told you I was tired), but first, I need to help out a friend.

Stacy's site is down due to some glitch I refuse to even try to understand.

She asked that I post something to cheer her up.

(picture from cabanaboyrum.com)

Well, it made me happy.

this is getting old and so are you

I'm tired.

I'm tired of writing about the war that I thought would have happened already.

I'm tired of picking on protesters, making fun of France and caring about celebrities.

I'm tired of berating Blix and pointing out the uselessness of the U.N.

I'm tired of the catfights in the comments.

I'm tired of listening to talk radio and hearing Hannity say the same things every single day - mainly because there is nothing else to day.

I'm tired of Mark Morford and Ted Rall and Jimmy Carter bashing.

It gets exhausting not just listening to it and reading it and talking about it, but writing about it every single day.

So I am going to do a lot less of it. There's so many other things I could be writing about. I used to write essays about love and kids and music. My writing used to be good. Now, it's just sound bites and declarations of anger and anxiety.

I've been thinking about this for a week. About writing more and ranting less. About more substantial posts and less "this day on Drudge" posts.

I wonder, though. This site is more popular than it's ever been. I am still amazed at how many people come here a day to read what I have to say. It boggles my mind.

I wonder how many people come for the war talk, the politics, the France-bashing, the wringing of hands?

I wonder how many people would stick around if there were less of those things and more of this or this or this or this?

More funny, more thoughtful insights, less repeats of how I feel about this war. More of the old stuff, less about my fears that center around Iraq and Iran and North Korea.

How many times can I say the same thing, anyhow?

The answer is simple: I can say it as many times as it takes to get tired of saying it. And that time has come.

No, I'm not going to stop blogging about news. I'm just not going to do it as much. I am no longer going to swim into the sewers of Indymedia to find material that makes me mad. I am no longer going to care what Ted Rall or Susan Sarandon have to say.

In all this war talk, in all my efforts to get the news out fast and furious, I forgot how to write. Or I just forgot that I can.

screw you guys, i'm going home

You know, I have this feeling if Saddam tied a nuke to Chirac's head and aimed him at Russia, both those countries would still veto a resolution.

women for a free Iraq

wfibutton.gif(Thank you to Dean Esmay for making me aware of Women for a Fee Iraq, through his post here)

Women marching for women. It seems like an altruistic idea.

Except these women - the Code Pink marchers, the NOW supporters, the Lysistrata Project participants, et. al. - don’t really know much about the women they are supposed to be marching for.

They want us to leave Iraq alone. They want the United States to stop trying to be an “empire,” to stop trying to suck up the oil of other nations, to save all the women and children of Iraq from certain death should war come down.

What about the death and poverty that will remain a constant in their lives if war, and the regime change that the war will bring about, does not happen? Who will speak for them then? Will the women marching on Washington in their pink fake fur and claiming they are doing it for the children feel victorious if they stop the war from happening? If so, shame on them.

Shame on them mostly because they haven’t listened. If they did listen, this is what they would hear:

Maha Alattar:
A Shi’a from Baghdad, Maha Alattar fled Iraq in 1983 with her family when she was ten years old to escape the government’s persecution of Iraqis of Persian ancestry, which included imprisonment and deportation to the mine-filled Iranian border. Ms. Alattar now lives in North Carolina, where she is an assistant professor of Neurology, and is active in promoting the liberation of Iraq with the Iraqi Defense Forum.

...In 1979, when Saddam became the absolute ruler of Iraq, everything changed. He began the war with Iran, in which close to a million Iraqis and Iranians died, and the government also began to systematically persecute specific ethnic groups. My family was among those targeted, because we were Sh’ia with distant Persian ancestry. Five of my cousins, all children, were taken way from their parents and thrown into jail. My aunts and uncles were then deported to Iran: They were dropped off at the mine-filled border, and forced to walk across in the middle of the icy cold winter. They made it over safely, only to live with the agony of not knowing the fate of their children. To this day, twenty years later, we have no idea whether my cousins are dead or alive, and we can only fear what kind of torture they were subjected to in Saddam’s dungeons.

Breaks your heart, doesn't it?

Safia Al Souhail

An Iraqi Shi'a, Ms. Al Souhail is the advocacy director at the International Alliance for Justice (1. www.i-a-j.org), and the daughter of Sheik Taleb Al Souhail, the chief of the one million-strong Bani Tamim tribe from central Iraq, who was assassinated by Iraqi intelligence in 1994.

As we watch UN inspectors search Iraq for weapons of mass destruction, I ask, why are there no UN inspectors investigating Saddam Hussein’s crimes against the Iraqi people? Along with hidden caches of biological and chemical weapons, Iraq also has hidden torture chambers, prisons and mass graves.

In Saddam’s Iraq, women are especially vulnerable pressure points - victims who can be used to influence other victims. They are harassed, abused, raped, tortured and gassed both for their resistance to the regime and as a means to control their families. For reasons like this, other Iraqi women and I have been organizing to get our voices heard in the international arena.

Berivan Dosky, a Kurd from northern Iraq, described how her mother was forced to flee her village in Duhok province in the 1961 Iraqi war against the Kurds, merely two hours after giving birth to Berivan. Berivan herself was later forced to repeat the scenario with her three-month-old son. In 1988, during a chemical attack against the Kurds, Berivan had to make a Faustian choice: She had only one gas mask, and had to decide whether to use it for herself, or give it to her then two-year-old son. She decided neither would wear it; they would either live or die together. Berivan is worried that Saddam will once again use chemical weapons against the Iraqi Kurds who live in the British and American-protected Kurdish safe haven. She asked Mr. Blair to make sure that there are enough gas masks for everyone.

Ms. Al Souhail continues with this important passage:

Saddam Hussein is himself a weapon of mass destruction. Disarmament is not enough. It may avert a chemical or biological attack, but it would not protect the people of Iraq from arbitrary imprisonment, executions, rape, torture and daily intimidation and deprivation. Saddam’s oppression of Iraqis is the "king of wars." His ongoing war against the Iraqi people must be stopped. The long-suffering Iraqi people deserve to be freed, and to live in a democratic, pluralistic and federal Iraq that is at peace with itself, the region and the world.

There's more heart breaking stories at the site. Read them all. Print them out. And then hand the print outs to anyone who tells you they are resisting the war in the name of the women and children of Iraq.

Tell them to ask the Women for a Free Iraq what they want.

I'll tell you what they don't want. They don't want spoiled, selfish activists chanting anti-America slogans in their name.

They don't want the inspections to go on and on.

They don't want college students co-opting their fear, their agony and their misery in order to promote their other agendas.

They don't want war. But they don't have much choice if they want freedom.

And clearly, that's what they want.

More reading:

A letter to the peace protesters from an Iraqi

Iraqi exiles: letters to Blair

Other links

The Kevin Parrott Interview

This is the first in a series of blogger interviews.

However, it's not your ordinary interview. Because I am too lazy to come up with intriguing questions, I conducted this one mad-lib style. That has to be more interesting than "If you were a tree..." Right?

(This means that Kevin did not answer, nor did I ask him, a single question. He had no idea what was going to be the end result of my email asking him for verbs, nouns etc.)

Interview with Kevin Parrott

Me: I believe you can tell a lot about a person by the weblogs he or she reads. Tell me about your favorites.

KP: Well, There's that Diverzions guy. I view him as sort of the Captain Marvel of blogging. I mean, he may look like Mr. Ed after a few White Russians, but that doesn't make him a bad blogger, you know?

ME: What is it you like most about his blog?

KP: Every time I read it, he has me screaming out phrases like GET sODOMIZED BY A CACTUS! You cannot understimate a power like that.

ME: No, I guess not. What about your weblog, Kevin? What would you say are the best things about "Are you Hep to the Jive?"

KP: First of all, my shrine to Florida Evans alone is worth the price of admission. You didn't know about that, did you? I have all kinds of hidden treasures on my site.

ME: Really? Anything racier than Florida Evans?
KP: Florida Evans's swollen areola.
ME: Eww.
KP: Well, you asked.

ME: Tell me about the beginnings of your blog.
KP: Ah, yes. That sordid tale. I was out for Pad Thai one night with Gerald Ford and we got to talking about crazed dictators. He shared a story about the night he and Pol Pot entered a yodeling contest and Pol was incensed that Gerry won. Pol exploded with rage, thrusted his fist into Gerry's face and exclaimed "Dude, you are going to be beat up from the feet up!"

Great story, eh?

ME: Yea, but what does that have to do with starting your blog?
KP: Oh, yes. The blog. Well, I got home that evening and knew I had to tell that story to the world. So I signed up with Blogger, started my blog and began to write.
ME: I don;t recall seeing that story in your archives.
KP: I got carried away with my artistic license.
ME: Your first post was about a man with a split cock.
KP: Umm. Gerald Ford did show me his twisted testicle that night.
ME: Was it arousing?
KP: Only Juan Francisco Ronan would find that arousing.
ME: I imagine so, Kevin. I imagine so. Anyhow, what other blogs do you read?
KP: I read Quit That and Tiny Little Lies. Of course, they paid me to say that. Keith was going to give me his pancreas to give him a plug in this interview but when I called him to work out the details, his partner said he had an enormous, burning itch in his vas deferens and couldn't come to the phone.

ME: Have you ever been told you look like someone famous?
KP: I get that Foster Brooks comparison all the time. I prefer to think of myself as a suave version of Plastic Man, though. Want to see me stretch?
ME: Not really.
KP: You sure? When I showed Brett Lamb how I can stretch, he started humping his pet turtle.
ME: You're lying.
KP: Hey, you made these mad libs up. I am not responsible for anything that happens here.
ME: Fine. Tell me about your friend Cowboy Kahlil. He seems like an interseting character.
KP: Well, I met Kahlil in a the MILF Hunter's chat room. We were both trying to find a voluminous momma, like Florida Evans, you know? So anyhow, Kahlil told me about his foot fetish and we just got along famously from there.
ME: You have a foot fetish, too?
KP: No, but i have a foot.
ME: just one?
KP: Unfortunately, I had a disabling accident last summer. I was driving in the Indy 500 when I shifted too suddenly, bounced off the wall and thrusted my foot through the window. Fortunately, there are a lot of women who are into men with only one foot.
ME: I bet the recovery from that was long and painful.
KP: It wasn't nearly as long and painful as reading Michael Chabon's latest!
ME: Ok, we are just about done here. But the world is dying to know one thing. We hear you tried out for American Idol. What song did you sing?
KP: Originally, I wanted to do the Pantera tune that goes "I fucked your girlfriend last night," but Simon took it very personally. As well he should. So I settled for "Let's Get Fucked Up" by The Cramps. Let me tell, Paula Abdul was all over me after that. She ais my singing made her wetter than spending an hour on I love Bacon. I may not have become the American Idol, but Paula will never forget the feel of my pole in her hole. WHOOOO!
ME: Easy there. Down boy.
KP: Sorry. I get carried away.
ME: Understandable. We're just about done here. Where are you headed off to when you leave?
KP: Are you trying to pick me up?
ME: I...
KP: Hey, do you want to go catch a double feature of Humanoids from the Deep and the Care Bear Movie?
ME: Only if you're buying.

The preceding was brough to you by mad-lib style interviewing. Any resemblance to the real Kevin Parrott is strictly coincidental, even though he did provide all the pertinent information, including the link to Milf-Hunters.

The next victim scheduled for some kind of interview is Joe of Short Strange Trip. If you would like to submit to my amazing word stylage (I made that word up), just let me know. Fo Shizzle.

fear of a litigious nation

Lawyers for some of the victims of the Rhode Island/Great White fire are going to sue Clear Channel, owners of a local radio station that promoted the concert.

WHJY urged listeners to see the show and offered free compact discs and free admission, which resulted in overcrowding

Bud Paras, the general manager of WHJY, said his station did not promote or sponsor the concert at the nightclub. He said the radio station simply produced and ran 15 half-minute spots bought by the nightclub for about $700. [Station DJ Michael] Gonsalves introduced the band, Paras said, but only because the musicians had been guests on his show and were friendly with him. WHJY gave away four free tickets, but did not hand out CDs, he said.

Gonsalves died in the fire.

While Clear Channel is guilty of many things - mostly for destroying radio - I cannot accept its guilt in this tragedy.

Clear Channel owns 1,200 stations nationwide. I'm not going to sit here and figure out how many concerts are advertised on the stations daily, but let's just assume it's a lot. Now, let's suppose that in one hour's time, one of the Clear Channel stations runs ads for McDonald's, American Idol, Budwieser and a baseball game.

Is the station responsible for whatever happens to a listener who utilizes or attends the advertised products?

If a person slips and falls at the local McDonald's, can Clear Channel be sued because the person heard an ad for Chicken McNuggets on their local affiliate?

If I'm sitting home and my television explodes while I am watching American Idol, can I hold Clear Channel partly responsible because the ad they ran made me want to sit in front of my tv and watch that show?

What about drunk driving accidents? What if I get hit with a line drive while attending a Yankee game that was promoted on a Clear Channel station?

Even if the station did promote the show outside of advertising, I don't see how Clear Channel itself bears any culpability in this scenario.

What if the lawyers of the victims win? What will that mean for radio? No more free cds or concert ticket giveaways. Maybe some stations will even hesitate to promote concerts at all. And without advertising, who will know about the concerts or when tickets are going on sale? Soon even newspapers and magazines won't want to touch concert promoting and eventually the live show will go the way of the vinyl 45 and become all but extinct.

Far fetched? Perhaps. But something to think about. While attorneys become more brazen and more outlandish in their pursuit of "justice," we are going to end up as a nation living in fear of a lawsuit.

As if we aren't halfway there already.

(link from MeFi)

perhaps he had his fingers crossed the whole time

Perhaps the inspections are working. After all, the inspectors did find that drone.

It's just too bad Blix never mentioned it out loud. Instead, he buried it in a report instead of announcing the find to the Security Council.

Blix has painted himself and the U.N. into a corner. Here we have the Security Council - and everyone else the entire world for that matter - being misled about what the inspectors are finding. Not only does this clearly demonstrate the inspections to be a farce, it also shows Blix to be an untrustworthy lackey for the U.N. whose real priorities include making himself and his employer look good, world be damned.

Blix could have presented the ultimate smoking gun. Instead, he tucked it away as if it were a dirty little secret he was embarassed about.

And well he should be embarassed. It is now up to Britian and the U.S. to demand answers from Blix and then have him announce the discovery of the drone, the way he should have from the start.

Let's just get this war overwith and then get on with the business of telling the U.N. to pack its bags.

March 09, 2003

deep thoughts

You know one reason why I would never really boycott an arist/actor who is outspoken against the war and/or America?

Because if you did that, then it would stand to reason that you would - in order to be really true to your patriot feelings - do the opposite. That is, watch and/or buy movies or records by those who are outpsoken for the war or the president.

Let me tell you, there is no way I am ever going to buy a Ron Silver movie. Ever. I don't care if he wraps his dick in a flag and goes over there himself to kill Saddam. I just can't do it.

On the other hand, I can't give up Ocean's 11 or Dusk til Dawn, either.

It's easy for me to sit here and say I'll never watch another Susan Sarandon movies because I never liked her as an actress anyhow. And I don't like Dave Matthews or Moby.

And even if Mike Patton or Gary Oldman came out as pro-war, I wouldn't care. Hell, they could announce that they are in favor of clubbing baby seals and it still wouldn't stop me from idolizing them with an adulation that is really unecesary at this point in my life.

There. That was my deep thought for the day.

i can't believe i read the whole thing

Nice try, but I'm not stripping naked. And trust me, you do not want to hear me sing. Even naked.

Instead, we will play Guess the Weekly World News Item.

I happen to have a copy of Weekly World News. I have no idea how it got in my house. It just appeared here, with Saddam's face on the cover.

I'm just going to give you a few choice quotes from this week's chock-full-of-looniness issue and you have to guess what they were talking about.

"You can bet no operative is getting into his hideout without a very aggressive rectal check."

"A golden glow shines over the city of wind. The winds grow stronger, crushing gangs and felling towers."

"They can't deny the translations leaked to the press do, in fact, mention Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein - and terror king Osama bin Laden - by name."

"Leave it up to a European to think up something disgusting like that, a tradition we definitely didn't need here in the U.S. of A."

"A four letter word for female relative? That would be AUNT - not the word you're thinking of."

"The unsatisfied customer called police when her negative thoughts failed to magically disappear.."

"Don't feel compelled to imitate the look-alike red, white and blue knock-off flags used by so many other nations."

"At first, I thought it must have been some sort of mutant glow-worm!"


"Mr Hussein is a very proud man, used to wielding authority. He just wouldn't be satisfied lying about on the French Riviera, sipping wine."

Have at it. I'm going to give you some time to answer these questions before I put up Kevin's interview.


Did anyone else beside Oliver and I see the Google server error today?

You can force me to wrap my house in duct tape, stop eating white-powered donuts and do the duck-and-cover every time the wind blows. I can live with all that. But when you try to make me live without Google, that's when the terrorists have won.

and the winners are...

Congrats to the Bloggie winners (I mean, congrats to all of them, but especially to the people I know):

Jason, for Blogrolling

And especially to Eric for Blogcritic's win.

Now, let's get on with the anti-bloggies. I'm ready to start bribing the judges.

trooptrax post

If you haven't been over to the TROOPtrax project in a while, you might want to head over there now.

Via Michael, I posted a letter from a soldier to his anti-war mother. Good stuff.

Speaking of TROOPtrax, it really is going great guns now (no pun intended) and there's still a lot of ways in which you can help. I'm thisclose to being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the project, but thanks to family members and bloggers who are very generous with their time and talents, I think we will pull it off.

i'm all out of tin foil

So, today is March 9, right?

Damn, I feel cheated.

Where are the floods?

I've been checking this site since October 2002, waiting for instructions on what to do and how to prepare and which of my alien leaders I should contact.

Now 8March2003 has come and gone and I think I submitted to that anal probe for nothing.

They want us to wait until April 15 now. The hell with that. On April 15 I'll be waiting on line at the post office like everyone else, trying to get my taxes in at the last minute.

I don't have time for these games anymore. Please, stop visiting my house late at night, stop performing medical tests on me and stop telling me I may have already won two free passes to a free screening of a new, shitty disaster movie.

They haven't made a good disaster movie since The Towering Inferno, anyhow.

God damn, my ass hurts.

cheese: it's what's for easter

Last year, it was the chocolate Jesus.

This year for Easter, I am all about the Cheese Bunnies.


attention sxsw attendees

Hey, if anyone reading this is at SXSW and you're hanging around for the bloggies today, could you do me a favor? If I win one of those awards that I was nominated for but declined the nomination but had my nomination left intact anyhow, maybe you could accept it for me and give a little speech that says something like "I dedicate this award to Hans Blix" or something like that?


If I do (by some longshot being that I alienated almost everyone in the blogging world,) win one of the awards, please do the following:

If I win best political blog, which I will not but just in case, please tell them I respectfully decline the award and pass it on to LGF.

If I win best American weblog, please tell them I respectfully decline the award and pass it on to Baz.

If I win Weblog of the Year, please tell them I respectfully decline the award and pass it on to Davezilla.

If I win none of them, which is the most likely scenario, please buy a shot of tequila and toast all the winners for me. I'll pay you back. Really.

rall, you are no bill hicks

Ted Rall is either channeling Bill Hicks or ripping him off.

Gee, I wonder which one it is? One guess only.

Bill Hicks = Dead, but still great.
Rall = Living, but writes like he is dead.

Such a shame, the way things turn out.

a little wine for your sunday

To the people who came here looking for any kind of porn that involves Pokemon or Uday Hussein, I cannot help nor would I want to.

However, I can help the person who came looking for red red wine and even though it's not exactly what you were looking for, it gives me a chance to repeat one of my favorite blasts from the past.

Originally posted on January 28, 2002:

Red, Red Wine

A glass of wine sounded really good late last night. Watch Project Greenlight, make fun of everyone on the show, and sip wine. Except there was only red wine in the house. I haven't had red wine in many, many years. I just can't drink it. I pour it anyhow, desperate to make the day go away, and take a sip. And then I remember why I don't like it.

My grandfather was big wine drinker. A wine connoisseur, he was not. Just a drinker. He kept his wine in jugs; glass gallon sized jugs that he hid all over the house. My grandmother would snoop around each day, opening cabinets and moving books to see if she could spot the hidden wine. I think almost every fight they had, and we are talking daily, was over the wine. Grandpa drank it morning, noon and night. Befor lunch, with dinner, sitting in the yard, watching Lawrence Welk - any occasion called for a glass. Every memory I have of him, he is holding a glass in his hand. Grandma hated the drinking. She hated the singing that came with the drinking. You could hear her from outside screaming something in Italian, words that I didn't understand but my mother told me to never repeat.

Grandpa shared his love of wine with his grandchildren. From the time we were little, he would pour us small glasses with dinner, mix it with coke, and then whisper in our ears to never ever tell our grandmother that their was wine in the glass. We drank the whole glass down each time, and even though there was barely enough to get us the least bit tipsy, we would run around for the rest of the day like we were drunk.

One day, me, my sisters and a bunch of cousins were sitting at the table after dinner. Grandpa had his jug out and, per usual, poured us each a small glass. Grandma walked into the kitchen and saw us sitting there, ready to drink. She glared at grandpa, a long, evil stare and he acted quickly. Picking up the peaches he had been slicing, he dropped one slice into each of our glasses. "It's just fruit. They're just having a treat," he protested. He gave us a nod and we all dipped our fingers into the glasses, pulled out the wine-soaked peach, and ate it. Grandma went ballistic. She took his jug off the table, and while we all watched with horror, she poured his wine down the sink drain. Then she turned on us. "Now you will drink every bit of that wine in your glasses," she yelled. This was some sort of punishment, but I don't know if it was directed towards us or Grandpa, whose glass was empty, with no chance of a refill. We all drank the wine down, afraid of what grandma would do if we didn't. And then we all went into the living room, feeling a little bit drunk for real this time.

A couple of months later, after a severe dry spell of no drinking with grandpa, came over to babysit for me and my two sisters. I must have been ten at the time. Grandpa brought over his jug (what kind of parents let a man with a jug of wine babysit?) and sat down to watch tv with us. Ten minutes later, he and my youngest sister were sleeping. I don't really know what transpired after that, or whose idea it was, but family lore has it that one of us took the jug of wine and the other sister and headed for the bathroom. Several hours later, after a few unanswered phone calls to the house, my parents came home frantic. They saw grandpa sleeping on the couch, my little sister on the floor, but no site of the their two other young daughters. Finally, my father looked in the bathroom. And there we were, sprawled out on the bathroom floor with an overturned wine jug next to us. Our speech was slurry, our eyes glazed and our lips stained with wine. We spent the rest of the night alternating between throwing up and laughing hysterically. My mother says the next day was spent in bed, doses of St. Joseph's baby aspirin doled out periodically. And that is why, to this day, I cannot stand the taste of red wine.

When grandpa died in 1991 we sat around his yard after the funeral. There were gallons of very cheap wine, peaches to put in the glasses, and a round of Perry Como songs. And the story of the day grandpa babysat. A family legacy that lives to this day, in the form of my aversion to red, red wine.

jimmy carter: a mini fisking

So many people have covered Jimmy Carter's op-ed in today's New York Times (it's ony 7am!), that I won't do a full frontal fisking. I have just two comments for Jimmy boy on his criteria for a just war:

Its violence must be proportional to the injury we have suffered. Despite Saddam Hussein's other serious crimes, American efforts to tie Iraq to the 9/11 terrorist attacks have been unconvincing.

How isolationist of you. For all the crap these liberals spew about wanting to make the world a place full of peace, love, flowers and smiling babies, they seem to be terribly unconcerned with the plight of fellow humans in other countries. How does this affect us? has become their new rallying cry.

The first stage of our widely publicized war plan is to launch 3,000 bombs and missiles on a relatively defenseless Iraqi population within the first few hours of an invasion, with the purpose of so damaging and demoralizing the people that they will change their obnoxious leader, who will most likely be hidden and safe during the bombardment.

I don't know about you, but I think any "widely publicized" war plan should be taken with several grains of salt.

Now listen carefully, Jimmy. "[s]o damaging and demoralizing the people that they will change their obnoxious leader" implies that the people of Iraq aren't already damaged and demoralized, that they haven't yet thought of the grand idea of changing their obnoxious leadership. Wake up and smell the napalm, honey. The people want freedom. They want liberation. They don't need a "shock and awe" campaign by another country to beg for Saddam to be gone or - even better - dead. And obnoxious is a very telling word to use. It's a lame understatement, giving a clue as to how you reallyl feel. Better words to use would be: deadly, evil, sociopathic, murderous, tyrannical, etc. But as a person who tends to kiss up to people with those traits, I guess you shy away from those words, Jimmy.

You would think Jimmy Carter would be the one person who would realize that sanctions and attempted peaceful solutions just do not work when dealing with middle eastern fanatics.

March 08, 2003

one more, i swear

Holy Shit!

I had no idea today was International Women's Day!

Think I'll go bag me a woman in celebration.

I mean, no.

I'll do something dainty and feminine, like umm..

play with my action figures?

read a few comic books?

watch a violent, bloody horror movie?

change the oil in my car?

crush a beer can against my forehead?

Damn, I'm all out of ideas.

18 posts since 6pm.

I'm just gearing up for this year's Blogathon.

one for the road


I forgot to say thanks for humoring me all evening. I had fun.

And then, there's this song, too.

I just know you wanted me to share this with you.

I'm going to upload some of these songs tomorrow because you know damn well you want to hear them even if you think you don't.

At least Geoff will.

See Her Pee by NOFX

She got lips like stereo
With the bass and treble down
She got tits like microwave
Burritos that explode
What I wouldn't give to see her pee
Between two parked cars
On a well lit street
Fifth and Main

the end

Well, kiddies. It's time.

I've been on here since 6:00. My back hurts, my ass is asleep and I think I'm dehydrated.

I will leave you with a song dedication. This one is for PETA.

You can find this song on Short Music for Short People, a compilation of 101 30-second songs. I listen to it at least once every day. You just don't get tired of songs like this:

Freegan by Bigwig

Well I'd club a baby seal
But you know I won't ingest it
I'd tell my vegan girlfriend
You know I wouldn't suggest it
Well all my shoes are leather
And I don't care weather or not
If all the cute little animals were to be shot
Were to be shot
Consider someone else, stop preaching about animals


YAY! Finally!

After three hours of listening to Netscape Radio, Sister Christian has finally come on!

I am singing so loud I may wake the action figures.

I don't know what it is about this song.

And I am not ashamed of loving it. I think I have referenced this song more times than any other since I've been blogging.

Sister Christian
Oh, the time has come
And you know
That you're the only one to say
Where you going
What you looking for
You know those boys
Don't want to play no more
With you
It's true
You're motoring
What's your price for flight
In finding mister right
You'll be all right tonight
Babe, you know
You're growing up so fast
Mommy's worrying
That you won't last to say
Let's play
Sister Christian
There's so much in life
Don't you give it up
Before your time is due
It's true
What's your price for flight
You've got him in your sights
And driving through the night
What's your price for flight
In finding mister right
You'll be all right tonight
Sister Christian
Oh, the time has come
And you know
That you're the only one to say
But you're motoring
You're motoring

i had no tequila

By the way, I am totally sober.

I think that makes tonights blogging events even sadder.

yea,l i'm 40 and still scared of my parents

It just dawned on me that even though my parents aren't exactly internet-literate, they just might find this site from TROOPtrax, which they know about. So, just in case:

Dear Mom and Dad,

If you would like, I could put a star next to all the entries you shouldn't read. But that might be all of them.

Dad, you can see from most of my posts here (tonight's not included) that I have, indeed, become a right-winger of sorts and you'll always have that to be proud of.

Mom, you always said I needed help. Here's your proof.

By the way, your other daughters have known about this site for a while. If you look through the archives, you can find all the posts where they bitch about you in the comments.

Would it help if I posted some pictures of cute bunny rabbits or my smiling children?

I love you!

P.S. Dad, I got my sense of humor from you, so part of this is your fault. And mom, I owe all my bitchiness to you. So, blame yourselves.

P.P.S. Hey, I'm listening to Doo-Wop. The Five Satins! The Penguins!

You still love me, right?


Just so you know, Soft Cell had more songs than that insipid, overplayed Tainted Love, the best of which was Say Hello, Wave Goodbye. If we ever meet and you get me drunk, I will sing the whole thing for you in a fake Brit accent.

Standing in the door of the Pink Flamingo
Crying in the rain
It was a kind of so so love
And I'm going to make sure it never
Happens again
You and I
It had to be
The standing joke of the year
You were a sleep around
A lost and found
And not for me I fear

I tried to make it work
You in a cocktail skirt
And me in a suit
(Well it just wasn't me)
You're used to wearing less
And now you're life's a mess
So insecure you see
I put up with all the scenes
And this is one scene
That's going to be played my way

Take your hands off me
I don't belong to you, you see
Take a look at my face
For the last time
I never knew you
You never knew me
Say hello Goodbye
Say hello wave goodbye

Under the deep red light
I can see the makeup sliding down
Hey little girl you will always make up
So take off that unbecoming frown
What about me - well
I'll find someone
That's not going cheap in the sales
A nice little housewife
Who'll give me a steady life
And won't keep going off the rails

Take your hands off me
I don't belong to you, you see
Take a look at my face
For the last time
I never knew you
You never knew me
Say hello Goodbye
Say hello wave goodbye

We've been involved
For quite a while now
And to keep you secret has been hell
We're strangers meeting for the first time O.K.?
Just smile and say hello
Say hello then wave goodbye

thank you, i'll be here all night




yea, i'm still here, i'm just on aim talking to a suave serial killer

So after I grew up and went to college, I got a job in a record store to help defray the cost of attending a large catholic university.

And there I developed my obessions with The Buzzcocks and The Jam and all kinds of music that required an English accent to sing properly.

My co-worker Patrick perfected this sound and used it to the fullest extent with his band Dead Virgins.

(Patrick, if you are reading this by chance, I lost your email address which is why I never wrote back so please write again)

The Dead Virgins did punk rock at its finest, and I clearly remember the line "How do you get to Waldbaums?" shouted over and over and then one of the band members in a cardboard box, doing a cover of New Order's Tempation.

You know, I had a really good thought here. This post was going somewhere. And now it's all ruined because this song came on the radio and knocked the brain cells right out of me:

(And i always thought he said "like a butcher she was laying there.")

Sammy Johns

Chevy Van

I gave a girl a ride in my wagon
Now she crawled in and took control
She was tired as her mind was draggin'
And I said get some sleep--and dream of rock n roll

Like a picture she was laying there
And moonlight dancing off her hair
She woke up and took me by the hand
She's gonna love me in my Chevy van
And that's all right with me

Her young face was like that of an angel
And her long legs were tanned and brown
Better keep your eyes on the road son
Better slow this vehicle down 'cause

'Cause like a picture she was laying there
And moonlight dancing off her hair
She woke up and took me by the hand
She's gonna love me in my Chevy van
And that's all right with me

I put her out in a town that was so small
You could throw a rock from end to end
A dirt road main street, she walked off in her barefeet
And it's a shame I won't be passin' through again

Like a picture she was laying there
And moonlight dancing off her hair
She woke up and took me by the hand
We made love me in my Chevy van
And that's all right with me

Yeah like a picture she was laying there
And moonlight dancing off her hair
She woke up and took me by the hand
We made love me in my Chevy van
And that's all right with me

All right with me

break on through, yadda yadda

See, this is why I love Netscape Radio. The flashbacks.

I had this unbridled passion for The Doors in high school. Perhpas obession would better describe it.

I was convinced that Jim Morrison's soul lived in mine, that his ghost lived in my house, that he spoke to me through subliminal messages in his lyrics.

I thought he was a god, a beautiful poet, a talented lyricist, a prophet, a soldier of truth.

And then I grew up and realized he was just as full of shit as the rest of the icons I loved back when I was doing drugs on a daily basis. That mescaline rots your brain, man.

Lost in a Roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane, All the children are insane

When the still sea conspires an armor
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters
True sailing is dead

I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft
We have constructed pyramids in honor of our escaping
This is the land where the Pharaoh died
The Negroes in the forest brightly feathered
They are saying, "Forget the night.
Live with us in forests of azure.

What the hell was I thinking and, more importantly, why I am enjoying this Doors station so much tonight?

do i hear one dollar?

You know, I could do this all night.

My lovely husband is busy working on a project, the kids are out with their father, my sisters are at the Islander game and I have no friends. So it's me and my blog.

I'd like to thank Da Goddess for being the only person amused by my blogging marathon tonight. As a reward, I fixed her place in the blogroll so she always stays above the Acidman, that grouchy old sexy man who is auctioning himself off to the highest bidder/most desperate woman.

It ain't over til it's over.

theme song #2

Speaking of theme songs, this one is my theme song for you:

Raise your hand if you think I'm talking about you!

Divinyls---I Touch Myself

I love myself
I want you to love me
When I'm feelin' down
I want you above me
I search myself
I want you to find me
I forget myself
I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you
I touch myself
I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no

You're the one who makes me happy honey
You're the sun who makes me shine
When you're around I'm always laughing
I want to make you mine

I close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you were to ignore me
A fool could see
Just how much I adore you
I get down on my knees
I'd do anything for you


I love myself
I want you to love me
When I'm feelin' down
I want you above me
I search myself
I want you to find me
I forget myself
I want you to remind me


I want you
I don't want anybody else
And when I think about you
I touch myself
Ooh, oooh, oooooh, aaaaaah

i'm still going to keep on posting even though the crickets are chirping

I was going to try my hand at bitchslapping Mark Morford tonight, but I didn't want a repeat of the mescaline flashback I endured when I last read his column.

However, I'm sitting here listening to the 40 different channels on my Netscape Radio and I just came across a theme song for Morford:

San Francisco

Performed by Scott McKenzie

If you're goin' to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you're goin' to San Francisco
You're gonna meet some gentle people there

For those who come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there
In the streets of San Francisco
Gentle people with flowers in their hair
All across the nation
Such a strange vibration
People in motion
There's a whole generation
With a new explanation
People in motion, people in motion

For those who come to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there

someone pissed in my bowl of cheerios today

Oh shut the fuck up already:

On the other hand, it's getting so easy to update a weblog that some users seem to type in their thoughts willy-nilly, posting unimaginable banalities, like a nation of Alan Partridges trying to fill an internet's worth of dead air: CDs they're listening to, scintillating accounts of their day at work, URLs of sites they feel they should acknowledge, despite having nothing new to say about them. It is like one of those terrible Christmas family newsletters for every single day of the year.

Here's a crazy idea: if you're going to write a weblog, why don't you do what most of this weekend's Bloggie award nominees appear to be doing, and try to expand the field of human knowledge in some particular area? Or maybe make some attempt to indicate what each news story/ opinion piece/ rambling recollection is supposed to be before the reader is halfway through it? Otherwise, you're producing a form of subjective sub-journalism, a stream of non-sequitur musings as disorienting as the BBC's regular Middle East reporter announcing: "Sorry, Huw, no new developments here. But let me tell you about a nightmare date I went on the other week!"

Weblogs weren't intended to change the world or cure cancer or be the New York Times. Great for webloggers who try to do that, but generally that's not the purpose.

As for this line, why don't you do what most of this weekend's Bloggie award nominees appear to be doing, and try to expand the field of human knowledge in some particular area, I am one of those nominees.

Have I tried to expand the field of human knowledge in some particular area? Not unless the details of my kids' school days or my takes on the war expand your knowledge somehow, and I'm sure they don't.

I like fun. I like being silly. I like reading fun and silly things. Maybe I'm just a simpleton at heart, but I write and read about war and politics all day long on the internet, I spend most of my workday looking at files of people who will probably never see the outside of a jailhouse for a long time, my kids drive me crazy, my husband drives me crazier and my checkbook is in ruins, so pardon me if I feel like spending tonight talking about stupid song lyrics or my collection of action figures or giving gratuitous links to blogs that post pictures of rabbit vibrators.

I just can't keep up with all the rights and wrongs of weblogging. Where are the masters of this medium, the people I can call upon to check my every post with them before I hit "publish" so I can make sure I'm doing it all according to code?

a blogger who documents his personal life in enough detail to be remotely interesting is a stalker's dream come true.

Yea? Where are my stalkers, damn it?

Anyhow, I can give you two clues as to why no one should take this article seriously, anyhow. 1) It's in The Guardian, and 2) Never trust anyone who takes part in anything described as irreverant.


This post on Laci Peterson has 124 comments, almost all of them by the same people who come back day after day with their conspiracy theories, using my blog like a message board for obsessive-compulsive amatuer detectives.

Jus sayin'.

I'm just going to keep posting tonight until I run out of steam

The move Crispin Glover was born to make:


The original Willard (1971) is still one of my favorite cheesy horror movies. Willard was followed up with Ben, which is worth it only for its theme song, Michael Jackson's Ben:

Ben, you're always running here and there
(Here and there)
You feel you're not wanted anywhere (anywhere)
If you ever look behind
And don't like what you find
There's something you should know
You've got a place to go
(You've got a place to go)

Are you laughing? You better not be. They played this song at my wedding last August. It's a tearjerker, I tell you!

Anyhow, the best cheesy horror movie about killer animals title clearly belongs to Night of the Lepus, which I would give my right tit to own a copy of.

clean teeth for peace!

Damn, I forgot all about the Code Pink rallies today. And here I am all in black.

Silliest anti-war slogan ever, from today's Code Pink rally in D.C.

Either she got this rally mixed up with the Dentists for Disarmament protest down the block or she's a compulsive flosser.

(picture from Indymedia)

act now!

Kevin has come up with a plan for dealing with bullshit-spouting celebrities. It works on the same level as Meryl's plans for PETA.

A little amount of personal revenge goes a long way towards satisfying the blood lust in my soul.

say what?

Apparently I am not speaking in a soundproof room today, after all. Which is a good thing because I promised reader Michael Messina that I would continue with the music theme of this week and put up another challenge.

Actually, this is exactly what Mike said:

Victory Girl, (I love that, by the way. I think I'll adopt that as my permanent nickname)

My sister reminded me this morning of when we were kids and thought the
words to the Credence Clearwater Revival song, "There's a bad moon on
the rise", were "There's a bathroom on the right". I also thought that " Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims pride" actually went, "And when my fathers died all of the pilgrims cried". Its pretty easy to misinterpret lyrics and I still do it to this day.I would imagine everyone has at least one of these in their history. How about a survey?

Well, there you have it. Yes, I know there are a ton of websites dedicated to this sort of thing, and I know I did this once before, but it was a long time ago and that portion of the blog (remember QOD?) has since disappeared.

So, while we are all killing time waiting for the war to start or you're in between sessions of Fucking For Freedom(tm) or you realized that the only true way to spend a Saturday afternoon is by reading my blog, let's do this.

Misheard lyrics. The more absurd the better. And I'm not sure if anything by Pearl Jam should count being that Eddie Vedder sings with marbles in his mouth.

I'll post mine after my nap.

thought for the day

Posting on Saturdays is a bit like yelling in a soundproof room.

the tupperwar lady scoops blix!

Drudge is reporting the discovery of an Iraqi drone:

US officials are outraged that Hans Blix did not inform the Security Council about the remotely piloted vehicle in his oral presentation to Foreign Ministers and tried to bury it in a 173-page single-spaced report distributed later in the day.

The report also says there is 'credible information' indicating that 21,000 litres of biological warfare agent, including some 10,000 litres of anthrax, was stored in bulk at locations around the country during the first Gulf War and was never destroyed.

I wonder what else we are going to find when the war is over and the hunt for all the stuff Blix and the Inspectors (a good name for a band, eh?) never found begins.

It probably will be as clear as bombs stamped "Made In France," or perhaps this:

The TupperWAR lady swears she has operatives in Iraq.

i read it on the net, so it must be true

I told you. It's all true. Dave Barry and I are terrorists.

Do I sue Solonor for libel or do I just hope this gets me linked by Dave Barry?

This is just tasteless.

what do you want to do tonight, brain?

pb.jpgIt's been pointed out to me by Robyn that my plans to take over the world are moving into high gear.

Of course, I've been doing it all subconciously and I had no idea what my evil plan was until Solonor brought it up.

Apparently I am part of the Axis of Blogger Evil, which consists of me, Dave Barry and Wil Wheaton.

I am Iraq. Dave is North Korea. Wil is Iran.

I think I should be insulted, but I'm not. Dave is good company. Wil, he's like that dictator that sits in the corner by himself at U.N. lunches because none of the other leaders want to admit to liking him.

Anyhow, it all came about because of Blogstreet. My Blogstreet rank is Rank: 23/102619. My BIQ is 17 and I have no idea what that means, except maybe it's some cryptic code for the number of ways I have dreamed up to kill Hans Blix because, coincidentally, I'm up to 17.

Blogstreet uses cute little house icons to show who your blogging neighbors are. I live in quite a diverse community, as I share a street with Misha, Ernie and Robyn, among others. We must throw some intense block parties. Apparently Slashdot is our neighbor as well, but we don't invite those guys to any parties because they never bring snacks; they just dip into everyone else's and then sit around and bitch about the quality.

Ok, after doing some research I discovered that BIQ is Blog Importance Quotient. 17! If only Andrew Sullivan would link me, my self-importance would skyrocket to such levels that I may actually leave the house once in a while.

So what does this all mean? Not much in the long run - I'll still have to go to work in the morning, even if I get to number on one Blogstreet some day - but I will say this about myself: I believe I have the most eclectic list of people linking back to me. I'm proud of that.

Of course, there is that little matter of the Blogrolling.com top 100, where I have once again passed by Mr. Pirillo (he of the billboard chest) and I am about to catch up to the Queen of Links and my Blogstreet neighbor, Robyn.

This is one mission I take seriously - to keep either of my Axis of Blogging Evil cohorts (Dave and Wil) from taking over the top spot because celebrities and famous people just shouldn't be allowed to win.

Now, I don't know whether I would be Pinky or Brain in this scenario, but I'm willing to take on a partner for taking over the world. Just leave your credentials.

This has been my gratuitious self-congratulatory post of the month. We now resume our regular understanding that my importance to the world at large is pretty much summed up in one word: none.

[closing music] We're Pinky, we're Pinky and the Brain..Brain..Brain...Brain...[/closing music]

speaking of rall

This week's Rall parody, brought to you by William Saxton.

Rall's original - William's parody
click for supersize

never again

Last night, I tried to watch Ted Rall's second appearance on the Bill Maher show.

I am never watching that crap again. I don't care if Elvis himself comes back from the dead and sits right between Maher and some other blithering idiot. Not even the off-chance that I might find something to blog about is worth poisoning my eyes and ears like that.

The show is not funny. Maher looks like someone in the fifth stages of a four-stage disease. Apparently whatever rare, color-draining brain cell-killing sickness has taken over his body has also attacked his sense of humor, as nothing on that show was even remotely funny.

The one thing that would save this show would be for Dennis Miller to come running out onto the set and start pounding Maher in the head with a folding chair, screaming "Give me my time slot back you unfunny bitch!"

I need to watch at least three episodes of Kids in the Hall to get back the sense of humor that Rall, aka The Humor Vampire, drained from me last night.

March 07, 2003

everyone's a little queer (1)

Some wannabe Bill O'Reilly is on MSNBC right now, railing against MTV for showing the video of teen lesbian pop duo tATu.

He's acting all insulted and demeaned, as if soft core porn and lesbianism were new to MTV or the world in general.

Ohh, two girls kissing! My eyes! My eyes!

Jesus fuck. When did everyone turn into Jerry Falwell? Did I miss the memo that we are all supposed to be offended at the site of two girls playing the media for all it's worth so they can cash in on the sexual frenzy they provoke?

Isn't that what the entertainment industry is about? I mean, would anyone know who Christina or Britney are if they didn't flash their nipples and shake their asses for the cameras? Why else would anyone watch a movie that stars Selma Hayek if not for her tits?

Get over it, people. Sex sells. Kissing girls sell more. Kissing girls in school girl outfits with pouty lips will make millions. Stop pretending to be mortified about it when you know damn well that next time you're jerking off in the shower, you'll be picturing this.

Excuse me. Shower time.

1Weezer - Pink Triangle

When I'm stable long enough
I start to look around for love
See a sweet in floral prints
My mind begins the arrangements
But when I start to feel that pull
Turns out I just pulled myself
She would never go with me
Were I the last girl on earth

I'm dumb, she's a lesbian
I thought I had found the one
We were good as married in my mind
But married in my mind's no good
Pink triangle on her sleeve
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth

Might have smoked a few in my time
But never thought it was a crime
Knew the day would surely come
When I'd chill and settle down
When I think I've found a good old-fashioned girl
Then she put me in my place
If everyone's a little queer
Can't she be a little straight?

I'm dumb, she's a lesbian
I thought I had found the one
We were good as married in my mind
But married in my mind's no good
Pink triangle on her sleeve
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth

I'm dumb, she's a lesbian
I thought I had found the one
We were good as married in my mind
But married in my mind's no good
Pink triangle on her sleeve
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth

I'm dumb, she's a lesbian
I thought I had found the one
We were good as married in my mind
But married in my mind's no good
Pink triangle on her sleeve
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth
Let me know the truth

boobies for freedom!

Leave it to madman to finally find a way to make the boobs for the troops idea work.

The Madman: A True Patriot

After a little thought on the subject of generating more cash for Operation Trooptrax, I came up with an idea. For every verifiable set of bloggerette boobs posted as a comment here or mailed to madman, he will donate another ten bucks to Operation Trooptrax. Now if Da Goddess decides to send me forty fine boobage shots I will not donate another four hundred bucks. I'd probably pass out from excitement. But I will donate the ten bucks and lick link her profusely. I'll even give a lot of "linky love" to every participant in Madman's Patriotic Parade of Boobage.

For those of you that think this is just a scam to get the blogrrls to "show us your tits", I want you to know that madman does indeed hope to see a lot of blog boobage. However I am dead serious- I'll make the donations up to a cap of five hundred dollars. That should buy a lot of CDs for Sarge and his boys when they get their movement orders. And to top it off, Madman will make the donation in YOUR name to Operation Trooptrax.

Give it a shot ladies! What the hell? The no war crowd goes naked- all madman asks for is a little boobage. For the shy ones I'll even accept low cut bra shots, but please no bikini shots- after all madman has a reputation to maintain.

This ties in nicely with the Fuck For Freedom meme that's sweeping the blogosphere. Go for it, ladies! Show how patriotic you are and send the man your boobs!

answering a ton of email at once

For those that wrote to me about Charlie Daniels:

When I referred to Charlie Daniels as a "tool" last night, it wasn't because of the letter he wrote to celebrities - although the idea of celebrities speaking out against celebrities speaking out borders on the asburd.

I like his one line that I quoted. It's something I might have said myself. But that does not mean I endorse everything he has ever said or done.

So why don't I like him? Here are some reasons:

Daniels wrote this shortly after September 11, 2001:

Why has this happened? Why has a nation which has enjoyed the blessings of God for over two hundred years suddenly experienced such a catastrophe? We’ve shaken our fists in God’s face for far too long. We have ignored His laws, belittled His son, taken His name in vain until it’s almost a national slang word. We have allowed radical groups like the A.C.L.U. to all but remove the name and reverence for God from American society. We have murdered untold millions of unborn children and tolerated an immoral president in the name of a good economy. We have proclaimed that homosexuality is just another lifestyle when the Bible clearly states that it is an abomination to God. We have encouraged illegitimate birth, and condoned living together out of wedlock...

There's also the updated version of his big hit Uneasy Rider, titled Uneasy Rider 88. The song is about two guys mistakenly going into a gay bar and wanting to beat the shit out of everyone in the bar when they found out the patrons were gay.

Somewhere along the line, Daniels went from southern rocker who loved to party to devout Christian. Nothing wrong with that. What's wrong is that he takes every opportunity to pepper his rants with words like pity and wrong and hell-bound when talking about non-Christians.

Sure, I tend to agree with him on foreign policy issues. Doesn't mean I think the guy walks on water, though.

The Iraq dilemma one year later

Click for supersize

(background images stolen from stripcreator)

Crude, yes. I'm no Ted Rall.

shock me amadeus!

Michelle Shocked:

We're going to set off an estrogen bomb for peace," the 40-year-old Shocked told us yesterday as she got ready for tonight's Lisner Auditorium concert-rally featuring novelist Alice Walker and comedian Elayne Boosler among other cause celebs. "You know what happens when the estrogen bomb falls? It's 'Oh I'm so sorry, it's all my fault.' 'No, I'm sorry, it's my fault.' Because the women just get together and clean these things up. We don't want to negotiate from strength. We have to negotiate from a sense of mediation."

"This about pink power," Shocked went on. "It could be argued that we are stereotyping women. But women are estrogen carriers, and they are the peacemakers in this world."

As a woman, I would just like to say - Michelle, think you are completely wrong and perhpas we could get together at a lovely restuarant over a cup of tea and chat about it.

And then I would take a fork and and poke out your eyes and feed them to you in soup. After that I'd slice your head off with a dull steak knife and vomit into your neck. I'd leave your bloody, messy corpse there for the waitstaff to clean up, but not before I ripped your tongue from your mouth and waved it over my head like a fleshy lasso.

Oops, there go those hormones again.

My fault.


(forgot to include link this morning. sorry)

From Boing Boing, comes this map of deviant sexual behavior.
I'm trying to find myself on there but I'm lost in a sea of things I know nothing about.

Under "animal transformation" it says human parrots, which in my mind is a sexual desire for Kevin Parrot. I can live with that.

I'll be the first to admit that I have some rather deviant fetishes (no I will not tell you about them) - but some of these fall into the does.not.compute. category.

Popping zits, farting, gas pedal pumping, insect bites - I guess nothing says orgasm like pull my finger, eh?

I would, however, like to know more about the people who get off on A-Bombs and guns. Just for research purposes, of course.

Well, I did find at least five places I could fit in. Go ahead, guess. This should be interesting.

my daughter, the Rumsfeld protege

It's become obvious to me that my daughter Natalie's calling is in the field of Homeland Security. Specifically, writing for future revisions of the Patriot Act.

Below is Natalie's latest brainstorm on how to capture wanted criminals, crazed drivers and traffic scofflaws: (All in her words)

First, you issue a new license plates to everyone in America who has one. All the license plates have a barcode on them, and all this information about you is on the barcode and it's all in the big database in some huge room in Washington, D.C.

And then there would be a security device, like a radar or scanner, on almost every main street in America, that reads these barcodes as they drive by.

So, if you kidnap someone, we just have to input the barcode information into the computer and it will tell us where your car is right away! And if you owe money for traffic tickets, we could track you down.

Oh, and if you are really old, like over 50, you have to take your driver's test again every year. So the barcode would have a special thing in it that would beep or flash or something so police would know you didn't take your test again.

And if you get pulled over, you can't lie to the police about anything. They would have this thing like the scanners at K-Mart that they run over your license plate and they would know everything, like if you have outstanding tickets or you didn't pay your child support or if you are a terrorist.

I thought about explaining privacy issues and all the holes in her invention, but thought better of it.

After all, I don't want her to think of me as a traitor to family when she's working for the Patriot Act 18 committee.

tastes so good....

Blogging will commence later.

I just want to announce that Melly was the grand winner of my little experiment, in that she was the first person - out of 68 comments - to bring up Warrant's Cherry Pie in the worst lyrics post.

March 06, 2003

i've been looking forward to bedtime since I got up this morning

Just a thought before I go to bed.

After reading some emails and doing a bit a research, I have to say that I had no idea Charlie Daniels is such a tool.

I wonder how many other people I adored back when I was young and stoned turned out to be asshats.

All of them, probably.

it goes on and on my friends

Either shit or get off the pot. The options are pretty limited.

We move in with force and take Saddam out or we let the U.N. have their way and give Saddam infinity plus years to disarm.

This is becoming the song that never ends and I'm really tired of watching the dance.

after-speech review, synopsis and opinion

Gary Hart looks like he just escaped from the Shady Pines Rest Home.

And I think he had spittle on his upper lip.

double profanity night

Asparagirl has made quite a commotion with her Lysistrata Project post. She was quoted in Best of the Web today (a dream for us mere mortals) and linked on Instapundit - twice!

In keeping with the theme of Asparagirl's post, here is an image from Stacy - use it wisely -


Use it often.

fun with protesters

You make the call:

This young man:

photo by fred askew taken from indymedia.com

A) Is a pimp promoting his business
B) Is obviously making an anti-gay statement
C) Needed a stark reminder by his girlfriend which way to enter

Baby, it's cold outside!

photo by fred askew taken from indymedia.com

short takes

Still here, still busy.

Looking forward to Bush's speech tonight.

Still trying to get Achy Break Heart out of my head.

It's my own damn fault.

Much blogging later.

Homemade chili now.

Pull my finger.


music is the theme of the day

I guess today is Music day here at a small victory.

Guest post from my sister Lisa.

I Went to see Scorpions last night. Halfway through I remembered they're from Germany. "Weasels!" I cried. Then, after a break, , the drummer runs out on stage wearing red & blue shorts with stars on them and a big Uncle Sam hat. They go into "Winds of Change.”

Winds of Change

I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind of change

The world is closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close, like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change

Walking down the street
Distant memories
Are buried in the past forever
I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change
The wind of change
Blows straight into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell
For peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change

Music and Lyrics by Klaus Meine

Take from that what you will. It made me smile.

someone left the cake out in the rain

Today we have a combination of ice, hail and a blizzard. At this point, I would happily greet global warming.

Very busy today, no time to do a decent post right now, but I'll leave you with this question for something I'm working on:

Worst. Song lyrics. Ever.

Not the whole song - just the worst, cheesiest, most inane lines from a song that you have ever heard.

This is important to me, I swear.

(there's also a different kind of lyrical challenge in the post below)

please hold

All circuits are busy. Please try again later.

(Early morning meeting).

Today's hold music:

Jello Biafra and Mojo Nixon - Love Me, I'm a Liberal

UPDATE: The lyrics are below. I challenge you to come up with an updated version.

I cried when they shot Medgar Evers
Tears ran down my spine
I cried when they shot Mr. Kennedy
As though I'd lost a father of mine
But Malcolm X got what was coming
He got what he asked for this time
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I go to civil rights rallies
And I put down the old D.A.R.
I love Harry and Sidney and Sammy
I hope every coloured boy becomes a star
But don't talk about revolution
That's going a little bit too far
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I cheered when Humphrey was chosen
My faith in the system restored
I'm glad the commies were thrown out
of the AFL-CIO board
I love Puerto Ricans and Negros
as long as they don't move next door
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

The people of old Mississippi
Should all hang their heads in shame
I can't understand how their minds work
What's the matter don't they watch Les Crain?
But if you ask me to bus my children
I hope the cops take down your name
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I read New Republic and Nation
I've learned to take every view
You know, I've memorized Lerner and Golden
I feel like I'm almost a Jew
But when it comes to times like Korea
There's no one more red, white and blue
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I vote for the Democratic Party.
They want the U.N. to be strong
I go to all the Pete Seeger concerts
He sure gets me singing those songs
I'll send all the money you ask for
But don't ask me to come on along
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

Once I was young and impulsive
I wore every conceivable pin
Even went to the socialist meetings
Learned all the old union hymns
But I've grown older and wiser
And that's why I'm turning you in
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

i've got a heart on

And it's beating just for you.

Am I the only one who was completely hypnotized by this?

March 05, 2003

mark morford: the purple microdot of columnists

It's Mark Morford time again and frankly, after my last effort to take him on, I can no longer focus on his words. I get an acid flashback everytime I see his byline.

Ok wait, I'll just take the last line:

These are the last days of peace in America as you know it.

Actually, the last days of peace were the beautiful fall days before 9/11/01. But whose counting?

Whoa, I shouldn't have read that . I'm feeling woozy. Colors....look at the pretty colors......is that Jefferson Airplane I hear?.....Mommy? Is that you?....

The Abyss of Morford has sucked me in. It's like Dante's circles of hell, only uglier. And damper. I smell patchouli. Falling........falling.........I hear voices....oil..ooil...empire.....inspections....OH GOD NO, Scott Ritter is here...Ted Rall....what a bad trip.....

Make it stop. Please.


Susanna of Cut on the Bias and Mike of Cold Fury are working on a special project: A website that will list those companies that are paying either full salary or the differential between full salary and military pay to the reservists mobilized for this deployment.

They will be encouraging people to support the companies listed by buying their products and services if possible, or just writing them a note of thanks.

The site isn't ready yet - I will certainly be linking to it when it is. In the meantime, if you know of any companies that are providing this service to reservists so they do not have to worry about their family's financial needs while they are gone, please email Susanna with the information.

long haired country boy

"You people are some of the most disgusting examples of a waste of protoplasm I've ever had the displeasure to hear about."

-- country singer CHARLIE DANIELS, in an open letter to Hollywood celebrities opposed to war with Iraq.

I was a huge Charlie Daniels fan when I went through my country rock stage during sophomore year of high school.

Good to see he's still the same old Charlie.


Does this font make me look fat?

Really, be honest. I won't be mad.

go and boil your bottoms

Hussein aide Izzat Ibrahim to Kuwaiti delegates at an Islamic Summit:

Shut up you minion, you (U.S.) agent, you monkey. You are addressing Iraq. You are insolent. You are a traitor to the Islamic nation."

The Kuwaiti representitive responded:

"I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"

(insert jaws theme here)

Drudge is reporting that Bush will "make the call" tonight.

And he doesn't mean calling the American Idol line to vote for Ruben.

Hey, ho, where’d you go, Ohio?

Leave it to SFGate to have an ass-kissing review of The Pretenders' anti-war rally show druing which Chrissie Hynde - one of my former idols - declared that America deserves what it gets from terrorists and that should we go to war, she hopes Iraq wins.


Hey, Chrissie - any idea what your lovely little home state of Ohio would look like if we lost the war or "got what we deserved" according to your skewed view?

I went back to Ohio but my city was gone.
There was no train station, there was no downtown.
South Howard had disappeared, all my favorite places.
My city had been pulled down, reduced to parking spaces.
Hey, ho, where’d you go, Ohio?

Oh, where did Ohio go? It was decimated by nuclear warheads that Iraq doesn't have and all your neighbors were killed by the tons of VX nerve gas which they also do not have!!


games people play

I knew I forgot to post something last night. Thanks to Zogby for reminding me.

Yesterday, Robb left this comment in one of my morning posts:

"Has anyone here ever played Taboo? You have to get your team to guess a word without using a list on the card you have. It's a riot.

I think we should play "Iraqi Taboo". Here's the rules - Describe why we should not attack Iraq. Here are the words / phrases you cannot use -

Blood For Oil
More Sanctions
Peace Vibrations

Anyone can play - even if you are pro-war it will be fun to try. I can think of a million variations of this game. Think of this one as your Wednesday distraction.

friends of saddam

CNN Breaking News: France, Russia and Germany say they will not allow U.N. resolution that clears path for war with Iraq. Details soon.

I hear Bono in my head:

With or without you
With or without you
We will go
With or without you

And ten dollars says that when we do go, they'll all evenutally tag along like good little doggies.

give free speech a chance?

I may be considered a pro-war conservative but that doesn't mean I am not on the side of free speech when it comes to stating your views.

This story is the height of ridiculousness:

A lawyer was arrested late Monday and charged with trespassing at a public mall in the state of New York after refusing to take off a T-shirt advocating peace that he had just purchased at the mall.

According to the criminal complaint filed on Monday, Stephen Downs was wearing a T-shirt bearing the words "Give Peace A Chance" that he had just purchased from a vendor inside the Crossgates Mall in Guilderland, New York, near Albany.

What's interesting to note is that Mr. Downs is "the director of the Albany Office of the state Commission on Judicial Conduct, which investigates complaints of misconduct against judges and can admonish, censure or remove judges found to have engaged in misconduct." Interesting because that office has been all but made obsolete by a recent ruling regarding judges and free speech (will find link to that story soon).

Regardless, the behavior of these security guards only adds fuel to the fire of the far left, in that the more things like this happen, the more they can cry about police state tactics.

The shirts were hardly offensive. Not only that, they were bought at that very mall. If the shirts were grounds for removal from the mall, why are they allowed to sell them there?

This was just a bad move by some overzealous security guards. But it could have far-reaching effects.

People need to chill out.

the murdering terrorists strike again

Someone on another blog - and forgive me for not remember where I read it - commented on how quite it’s been in Israel as far as suicide bombers go.

And now this. It never stays quiet for long.

One on hand, you have Israel going into neighborhoods actively seeking out terrorists and murderers, destroying their homes and few of the terrorists themselves in the process.

And here you have Palestinians and their terrorist organizations going into neighborhoods and actively seeking out innocent civilians to kill in the name of their cause.

So I ask you, all those who walk around with signs proclaiming Israel and its citizens as the devil and his minions, which one of the above is callous and cold-blooded? Which scenario depicts murdering scum hell bent on causing as much pain and suffering as possible? Which action takes the lives of children on purpose?

Which is an act of war and defense and which is an act of depraved inhumanity?

national day of cutting class for communism

Hey, kids! Don't forget that today is Books Not Bombs day! That's right, walk out of class to prove how much you want peace.

Don't forget to schedule your Palm Pilot so the little alarm goes off at noon, signaling the scheduled time that the almost spontaneous-seeming protests will take place.

All over college campuses and high school football fields today, you will hear the same conversations taking place:

"Was the ANSWER sign supposed to go to this march or was it the "Bush Kills Babies sign?" "No, no the baby killer placard is for the rally on Saturday, today is the anti-Israel poster." "Shit, I thought we were supposed to get naked today. I even trimmed."

And parents, be proud of your children for their steadfast allegiance to the cause. Oh, you might want to check into who is backing the cause, by the way:

Young Communist League.
Young Democrat Socialists.
Young People's Socialist League

Bet you didn't know that your charming little Timmy marches for communism! Heh, I bet Timmy doesn't know, either. Silly kids, protests are for socialists!

On an interesting side note, today is Ash Wednesday. Around here, religious days like this are mandated to be no-test days. I wonder what the coincidence factor here is. It would seem typical of the current anti-war movement to schedule their protests for the least possible inconvenience. After all, these kids need to study hard for their future careers as professional anarachists.

bare your chest for the troops!

Chris Pirillo of TechTV/Call for Help fame gave up his chest for TROOPtrax:

I would have preferred his wife Gretchen's chest, but at least I got her pie.
Speaking of TROOPtrax, donations have exceed $2300.00! Please go check out the cause, if you haven't already.

stay hungry*

So, if we restorted to having sex for war in retaliation for the no-sex/no-war effort, what do we do about the Pope wanting us to fast for peace?

I'll do my part for the pro-liberation movement by having Donuts for Deployment.

Now, all we need is a lefty movement called Stay Sober for Saddam and the rest of can eat, drink and fuck all day and night and call it a worthy endeavor in the name of war.


March 04, 2003

COtV #24

Acidman lets it go prematurely. Carnival of the Vanities #23 is up, and it's not even Wednesday.

Yea, I love you, too.

Make Love And War!

Continuing with my string of posts in which I avoid talking about the crushing feeling of doom that has come over me tonight, I am going to take Asparagirl's advice and:

Fuck For Freedom!

Personally, I plan on dedicating tonight's hot-and-heavy boink with my fiance to the Lysistrata Project chicks. Who says political protest should only be defined by denial and inaction? And why not have more fun than the peacenik gals at their own inane game?

Withholding sex for peace? I don't know about you, but if I go without sex for too long I turn into one cranky bitch.

I'm going to do my part for the pro-liberation of Iraq movement tonight. I'm going to ride my husband until we both pass out from exhaustion. And then I'll wake him up later on and do it again. And maybe, just for kicks, I'll scream out Tony Blair's name at the end.

Or maybe Tim Blair

the truth laid bare?

The Blogging EcoSystem is back.

So, based on your observations of the list, can you explain why the links list of politics/news-heavy bloggers is so male oriented?

Is it because
a) there are more male political bloggers
b) there is a subtle bias against females when it comes to reading blogs about news and politcs or
c) I am totally reading too much into the list and I should just go in the kitchen and make you some pie?

UPDATE: Fine, here's your damn pie:

Ok, I stole the pie from Gretchen. I don't bake.

i have a lot of class. it's all low.

Dave Barry sings:

Nothin' could be finer
Than to be in her vagina
In the moooooooooor-ning...

And then later, he says:

Nothin' could be sweeter
Than to have her etc.

If you don't know what the "etc.," is, you will have to ask a guy, because this blog is too classy for that kind of smut.

Well this blog is the opposite of classy, Dave. So I won't hesitate to say that around these parts, it was sung as:

Nothin' could be sweeter
Than to spread her legs and eat her
In the moooooooooor-ning

Now, don't forget to leave your panties for the cunnilungus fairy tonight, ladies.

today is bitchslap ted rall's fans day!

Yea, I’ve been trying to not blog during work hours, but when you get back from a lunch that included a pitcher of margaritas and see a couple of comments on an old Ted Rall post that makes your skin crawl, well...there’s no holding me back.

So howdy to Cody of I.P. address

First, Cody says:

The truth is that more than half the people on this page haven't the slightest clue as to what is going on in this country, or the world for that matter. Watching CNN for two minutes just doesn't cut it. Ted Rall is an amazing jounalist, and social commentator. You can only wish to be as smart and as informed as him.

Amazing journalist, eh? Hey, anyone can say "George Bush stole the election" 350 times a year. I can even draw some stick figures and have them saying "It's all about the oil!" That would hardly make me an amazing journalist and social commentator.

Smart and informed? Rall sees things in one shade only. It's hard to be smart and informed when you refuse to see more than your own thin point of view. Forget CNN. Rall reads some Chomsky and Fisk, maybe goes to Indymedia a couple of times a week and then shits out some lukewarm cartoon about it. For all intents and purposes, he has repeated the same tired lines over and over since September 11, 2001. It's time for a new gimmick.

Ok, I know. We've done this all before. But then dear Cody goes on to say:

Also, to anyone referring to "those that died" on this page...

First, name two that YOU KNEW PERSONALLY. Then, name two significant dates in two significant wars. Honor system, off the top of your head. Then, just for kicks, name the capitals of any three Arab nations.


I didn't think so.

First: Pete Ganci

Oh, look here, five more.

And another.

This is besides the fact that I question your implication that you could only be pissed about all the "people who died" if you actually knew one of them.

As for your little pop quiz, Cody, I'll tell you what. I can answer all those questions readily. But the main thing is I can name the capital of all 50 states of the United States of America. Can you even name all 50 states? I bet not. You're too busy worrying about the plight of other nations being taken over by the "U.S. Empire" to care about the very land you live on.