__
                    __ _ / _|_ __ ___
           _____   / _` | |_| '_ ` _ \   _____
          |_____| | (_| |  _| | | | | | |_____|
                   \__,_|_| |_| |_| |_|
                   Another Foggy Moment

 These are the continuing adventures of a typical resident
 of the self-proclaimed center of the Pugetopolis universe -
 Seattle. Most are true stories but some are made of whole-
 cloth. I ain't the Mayor, the Governor or a Big Shot. Just
 another Working Stiff with a Bad Attitude.

    ------------------------------------------------
    WARNING: This is not a Child-Proof Neighborhood.
    If you're a kid - scram!, beat it! you little
    punk before your Old Lady catches you and calls
    the cops. They'll throw you in the Big House in
    Walla Walla and won't let you out until you're
    89 years old. There. Don't say I didn't warn you.
    -------------------------------------------------

                          - 137 -

 The Yoshino cherry trees in the Quad at U Dub are ready to explode
 into blossom any day now. I'm sure there's a story goes with them
 but I don't know it. They are old, big, very gnarly and as graceful
 as ballerinas. When they bloom in the spring it's like a beautiful,
 extended, organic fire-works. This is followed by a lovely 'blizzard'
 of cherry petals that lasts about a week or two. It just frig'n 
 blisses me right out. Foreign students, particularily Asians, like 
 to gather there on sunny weekend afternoons with their kids. They 
 get out their blankets and picnic baskets and everybody's takes lots 
 of pictures. The locals don't seem to consider it anything special, 
 for the most part. No ESPN coverage and no money in it eh.

 U Dub campus is something of a tree museum. They seem to have at 
 least one of just about every kind of tree there is. At least the
 species that can take our climate. There is big Cedar of Lebanon
 at the north end of the above-mentioned Quad. It's ancestors made
 up much of King David's Temple in Jerusalem way back when. And there 
 are those lovely old 'memorial' trees that line the main drive in
 off of 45th Street. Each represents a university student, faculty
 or staff who died in WW-I. It's always a delight to walk through
 there particularily on a misty Sunday morning when there's nobody
 else around. It feels almost primeval. 

                              *

 I notice they've ripped up all those cute little birch trees that
 used to be in that courtyard in front of the Fred Hutchinson CRC's
 Main Campus on Eastlake. They're putting up some sort of ugly (at 
 least so far) stone monument of some sort. Maybe a Golden Calf 
 representing the God of Grants eh. Or perhaps a memorial to the 
 kids they used as Corporate Biotech guinea pigs when their 
 researchers made a few Bucks testing out their corporate buddies 
 new drugs. 

 Science and art rarely mix. The only REAL piece of art that they 
 have in their lobby is that portrait of Fred in his Rainier uniform 
 hurl'n a Beanball right at Lou Pinella's head. As usual, you can't 
 actually SEE Lou, you can only sense his groveling presence nearby. 
 As you may have noticed, the Hutch is gradually eliminating the 
 'Fred' in their name. They're not really into the sports thing there. 
 I'd bet if you polled the Hutch's Lab Geeks, you'd have a hard time 
 coming up with more than one or two - grand total - who had even 
 the vaguest idea who Fred was. Nor is it likely they'd care. They
 got a direct pipeline to Uncle Sammy's wallet now. Don't need Fred's 
 name or the Local Yokels anymore.

 BTW - Fred's brother, a doctor, put his name on the institute
       on account of Fred died of cancer and his brother hoped
       to spare others the loss he felt. Embarassing sentimental 
       slop of the sort no modern scientist would think of 
       engaging in.

                                * 

 Dear oh Dear. Whatever is our Gubnatorial Dwarf to do with himself?
 Largely a failure at dealing with any of the state's problems, rudely
 laughed at by his own Party flacks in the State House and easily 
 shoved off the political stage by an unelected political part-timer, 
 The Little Stinker, our Guv, has been pacing the floor of the Governor's 
 Mansion wearing out the soles on his Boys Size 8 gym shoes trying to 
 find some sort of justification for his existence. My God! Tim
 Eyeman's raked off more Poontang lately than Stinky has. People 
 can't even remember his name anymore, he's become such a forlorn 
 Nobody. Why he's practically worn a groove in the floor from the 
 effort. And the headaches! Oi! His tiny, little brain is straining 
 well beyond its rated capacity.

 I know! TERRORISM! That's the ticket! Gutting the state's economy
 has proven to be a highly effective answer to our traffic gridlock -
 no jobs, no traffic. What a stroke of genius! And once Boeing and
 all those other heavy-industry types move out of Washington, that 
 will vastly ease our horrendous pollution problems too. Then we 
 can get rid of all those foreigners from California and make the 
 Evergreen State fit for nothing but evergreens once again. All 
 Stinky has to do is use the same logic to eliminate terrorism in 
 our lovely state and send Osama bin Laden and his evil Ragheads 
 packing from our fair shores. What? Osama's never been here? See! 
 It's working already! We got 'em on the run! Yeehaw!

 While taking his faithful sidekick, Princess of Justice Christine, 
 out for a walk (wearing her new collar) around the State House 
 grounds, the solution suddenly occurred to him: WIRETAPS! That's 
 the ticket! He'll just have everyone wired up to the Governor's 
 Mansion so that he can listen to their every word. Then later, 
 after he's made embedded microchips compulsory, he can rig them 
 so he can zap anybody he doesn't like. Boy oh Boy! This will
 be great! It'll be just like that movie "Night of the Zombies".
 He'll be able to run a continuous tape subliminally instructing
 everyone to mail their endorsed paychecks to him in Olympia. He'll 
 have more tax money to play with than he knows what to do with.
 
 Princess Christine barked excitedly and jumped up and down as he 
 related his latest brainstorm to her. She damn near knocked him 
 on his little ass. "Down girl!", Stinky yelled, "Or I'll get out 
 my cattle prod again." This made her run away yelping with fright. 
 The burn marks from the last time haven't even healed yet. "What 
 a stupid dog!", Stinky giggled, "Stupid but loyal. I'll never 
 have to worry about her biting the hand that feeds her."

......................................................................
 
 "I miss this place. I especially miss Harvard Square - it's so
  unique. No where else in the world will you find a man with a
  turban wearing a Red Sox jacket and working in a lesbian
  bookstore. Hey, I'm just glad my dad's working."

                     - Conan O'Brien -
                     Class Day Speaker
                    Harvard University
                         6/7/2000
.......................................................................

                SEATTLE'S CANADIAN CONNECTION

 In its earliest formative years, Seattle had a sizeable group of 
 Canuks influencing its growth and development. There even used
 to be a Canadian Club in one of the old downtown office towers.
                             %
 One of the first regents of the University of Washington was 
 Ontario-born RICHARD WINSOR who had a beard that would have
 made him right at home with ZZ Top. A lawyer, he had made a 
 name for himself in Michigan politics then followed his son, 
 a local contractor, out to Seattle where he hung out his shingle. 
 Arriving just before the Great Fire, he was lucky enough to have 
 one of the only law libraries that survived, which gave him a 
 leg up on the competition at a crucial time. But U Dub was where 
 his heart was. He was one of its principle nursemaids helping it 
 grow from a single building on Mr. Denny's 10-acre grassy-knoll 
 overlooking what was then downtown, to the expansive move to the 
 300+ woodsy acres in Montlake by the shores of Lake Washington. 
 He lived long enough to see his grassy downtown knoll turn into 
 an urban landscape of office towers, a grand hotel and busy
 throughfares clogged with cars. And to see the woodsy Montlake 
 campus of his baby U Dub turn into a real university. 
                             %
 Capital Hill owes its existence to Nova Scotia-born JAMES A. 
 MOORE. At a time when it was nothing but woods far removed 
 from the downtown below it, he built streets, sidewalks and 
 put in the lights before offering residential lots there.
 He was a major Mover & Shaker around here with his hands in 
 too many pies to count. Yep, he's the "Moore" that the Moore 
 Theater downtown was named after - he built it. He's also the 
 'eccentric' who built the 'castle' overlooking the Columbia 
 River on the Oregon border (it was for his wife who had TB). 
 First his wife died and then he ended up losing his shirt 
 trying to start up a steel mill in Port Orchard. So he headed 
 south. After a few years in Florida, he ended up in L.A. making 
 money hand over fist. He only returned once for a short visit 
 to Seattle. Too many memories I guess.
 BTW - The name "Capital Hill" was both the name of one of 
       Moore's previous projects in Denver and the name given
       the area by Arthur Denny who originally owned it. No
       one really knows which became the official inspiration.
                             %
 Ontario-born JAMES DOUGLAS was the Young Man With a Big Dream.
 He's the guy who conceived of "The Metropolitan" - a sort of
 city within a city in Seattle. A lawyer by trade, he wandered
 out this way from North Dakota for free on his railroad-attorney 
 pass and liked what he saw. Buying some used office furniture on 
 credit at Fredrick & Nelson (they sold used stuff too back then) 
 he hung out his shingle and joined every club, lodge and church 
 in town hoping to russle up some customers. Years later after 
 becoming well established, his Metropolitan Building Company
 would be the prime leaseholder and developer of the 'downtown' 
 10-acres Arthur Denny gave to U Dub as its original campus. He
 converted it from pastureland overlooking Elliot Bay into a
 modern development of elegant office towers and a grand hotel 
 all built to his unified "Metropolitan" theme. He later went on 
 to become a big exec with the Carnation Milk Company, founded 
 by one of his Metropolitan tenants, as it grew from its humble
 beginnings in Kent into an international company based in L.A.

 [The University Allotment, originally a grassy knoll sitting
 serenely above what was 'downtown' near the turn of the last 
 century, has become prime downtown core property. It generally 
 is the area bound by Union to the north, Seneca to the south, 
 5th Avenue to the east and 3rd Avenue to the west. Aside from 
 a small piece where the present main Post Office sits on 3rd 
 Avenue, (sold to Uncle Sammy for a whopping $25,000) the rest
 of the land still belongs to U Dub and its board of regents 
 still administers the leases. The political shennanigans that
 have surrounded it over the years have kept Seattlites very
 well entertained.]
                             %
 The BORDEAUX BROTHERS from Quebec came out here via the 
 California gold fields. Neither one of them spoke English well 
 enough to order a bowl of soup but they knew how to make money. 
 They used their California gold dust to bankroll a lumber mill 
 near Olympia and made railroad ties for the Northern Pacific 
 Railroad. They made enough money at it that they decided to 
 start their own bank and soon became Bigtime local financiers 
 and real-estate tycoons with their fingers in many Seattle
 and Puget Sound projects.
                              %
 ALBERT S. KERRY from Ontario is generally credited with the
 building of the grand old Olympic Hotel. As President of the
 Chamber of Commerce's "Community Hotel Corporation" in the 
 early-20's, he led the successful campaign to scrounge up
 some $4,500,000 by selling $100 bonds to the citizens of our
 fair Hooterville to finance construction of what was to be
 the grandest hotel on the west coast. With military precision 
 his Chamber of Commerce troopers knocked on all 350,000 doors 
 in town cajoling, harassing and, when necessary, strong-arming 
 the locals to buy the bonds. It was truely a community project. 
 And once the money was secured, Albert oversaw the actual 
 construction of the hotel. Despite working from virtually 
 non-existent financial margins in which the slightest delay 
 would have terminated the effort, he brought the massive project 
 in on-time and within-budget. When he blew the whistle signalling 
 the end of construction, all the bills were paid and not a cent 
 was owed to anyone. He was by trade a lumberman who had worked 
 his way up from mill flunky to owner of a number of mills. 
 BTW - A few years later when the Depression hit, the $100 bonds
       were worth 2 1/2 cents.
  
       That recessed entrance to the Olympic has a story that
       goes with it. That's where the Metropolitan Theater used
       to sit. They built the hotel around it then, years later,
       tore down the theater.
                             %
 Ontario-born Governor ROLAND H. HARTLEY, a tight-wad, Republican,
 millionaire, is the guy who almost destroyed U Dub. A bushwacker
 from the Ontario backwoods, he'd wandered down to Minnesota at
 the turn of the last century then out here where he invested 
 heavily in the local timber industry making a hefty wad in the
 process. Then he got into politics. First by becoming Mayor of
 Everett, then with a single term in the State House, before 
 becoming Governor. He was such a pisshead that a serious recall
 effort was launched to give him the boot. It failed. 

 Rollie liked engaging in that most Washingtonian of all political 
 pursuits: bashing the eggheads at U Dub. The State already had a 
 bad rep from the gratuitous canning of U Dub President Kane earlier. 
 It took them nearly 2 years to find anyone willing to risk taking
 on the job. That was Henry Suzzalo, a philosophy prof from Columbia 
 University in New York - the first President they ever had with real 
 connections to the wider academic world, particularily the big eastern 
 schools. After pissing and moaning about all the money U Dub cost, 
 Rollie gutted the Board of Regents stuffing it with Hayseeds then 
 had them can Suzzalo - they said his $18,000/yr paycheck was too
 expensive. While the alumni went nuts, the Toothless Masses and 
 Rollie's illiterate up-by-the-bootstraps millionaire buddies whooped 
 it up and cheered him on. He got turfed when the Great Depression 
 hit. By then U Dub was underfunded, over-populated and falling 
 apart from neglected upkeep.
                             %
 Another Nova Scotian, JAMES CAMPBELL, was the nephew of Captain
 William Renton after whom the little town of Renton is named.
 A merchant mariner earlier in life, he got seasick and moved 
 ashore on Bainbridge Island to work as a millwright at his
 uncle's logging mill. Having learned the trade, he teamed up
 with his brother to build a mill at Port Blakely which, for
 two years, cut more wood than any other mill in the world, or
 so it was claimed. He became filthy rich when he sold the mill
 to Frisco connections and invested the Dough in timberland and
 logging operations. A lot of his money also went into making
 Seattle's skyline.
                             %
 The Seattle Metropolitans, the first American team to win a 
 National Hockey League Stanley Cup, used to play in the old 
 Arena that stood on 5th Avenue between University and Seneca,
 facing what is now the Olympic-Four Seasons Hotel. It was the 
 only artificial ice surface in town. The team name likely came
 from its association with ex-Canuk Jim "Metropolitan Tract" 
 Douglas within whose U Dub leasehold its arena was situated. 
 But the novelty of a hockey team soon wore off in Seattle and
 the Arena was converted into a big garage for patrons of the 
 Olympic Hotel. You'd think the city or the NHL would put up 
 a plaque eh.

 [Inspiration provided by Neal O. Hines "Denny's Knoll", U Dub
  Press, ISBN 0-295-95718-2] 
....................................................................
 
  ATTENTION: Despite any other listing of product contents found
  hereon, the consumer is advised that, in actuality, this product
  consists of 99.9999999999% empty space.

 - from Physics Product Warnings 
....................................................................

                      'OL YELLER'S TWAT
              (aka The War Against Terrorism)                 

 Boy oh Boy that Yellowbelly is sure one friendly feller. As 
 you may have noticed on the broadcast of the Ford Theatre 
 Presidential Gala, as Stevie Wonder took his seat at the piano 
 center-stage, Ol Yeller, sitting in the front row, got all 
 excited and started waving at Stevie. For some mysterious 
 reason, Stevie didn't wave back. Those big stars are sooooo 
 stuck up eh. Especially the blind ones. Doh! What a freak'n
 retard! Almost as stupid as that phony hillbilly lard-ass 
 from the Department of Defence who likes to dress up in 
 Cammie Jammies. The dope who can't remember which century 
 it is.

                           !

 Looks like Yellowbelly is cooking himself up a Hum-Dinger of a 
 BBQ in Baghdad come April. That's when the invasion is set. He
 already has advance targeters infiltrating from the north. The
 only thing that is certain is that if we attack Iraq, they will
 immediately attack Israel. The question this time is: with what?
 If they actually do have nukes, Israel will definitely get at
 least one of them. Ditto for biologicial or chemical weapons. 
 If Saddam can take a few million Jews with him, he would die 
 a happy man. And if that's all it costs to get rid of Saddam, 
 Yellowbelly apparently can live with it. Question is: can the
 Israelis?

 It's all wishful thinking on Yellowbelly's part. We can sure
 bomb the hell outta them but we'll never be able to take it and
 occupy it. Our military can't even handle a simple job like
 Afghanistan - certainly Iraq is far beyond their abilities.
 And it opens a very wiggly diplomatic can of worms. One of the
 Axis of Evil, Iran, is right next door armed with Heaven only
 know what and trailing a string of Euro Corporate-Suits who
 do business with them regularily. The Iranians are nervous and
 the Euros are pissed off about us cutting in on their action. 
 The Limmies are the only ones who are stupid enough to remain 
 our allies. Those pathetic Losers can hardly afford bullets 
 let alone bombs. Lotta help they'll be.

 These are amazing times. I think a hundred years or so from
 now when the Euros and Asians who run things look back, they'll
 remember this as that strange time when rich and wealthy Uncle 
 Sammy, a guy with everything to live for, inexplicably blew his 
 brains out in the backseat of his stretch limo. Such a tragedy
 but such a fortuous tragedy.

                            ! 

 Setting aside for a moment the obvious fact that our stated 
 reasons for being in Afghanistan are total bullshit, our
 confrontation there is like a mismatch between Mike Tyson and 
 Britney Spears. It should be no contest. It should be a one-
 rounder. It should be like Muhammed Ali coming out of his 
 corner and knocking Sonny Liston flat on his ass with the 
 first punch.
 
 Afghanistan is a grossly impoverished nation in the midst 
 of a severe drought. Millions of its people were projected 
 to die of hunger this year even before we moral and decent
 Americans came along with our cruel and sadistic bullshit. 
 You can triple the numbers now. Like we give a damn about
 dusky-skinned Rag Heads eh. Only one Afghani was involved 
 in the attacks on the WTC towers - the guy who died while 
 working in one of the towers. Their military is tiny compared 
 to ours. It has no air force at all nor even a single armoured 
 division. It's air defences are made up of WW-II era weapons. 
 Navy? What Navy? Their infantry is composed of irregulars 
 with nothing but rifles and hand guns. They haven't got any 
 decent artillery. They aren't even vaguely in our league.
  
 In spite of all this, here we are 6-months after we began 
 sucking their blood and eating their babies - $100 GigaBucks 
 poorer and still struggling to contain them. Worse, our allies
 who did our bleeding for us - the Northern Alliance - are fed 
 up with our arrogant bigotry and about ready to start bagging 
 a few Rangers and Marines of their own. How can that be? Is 
 our military, the most formidible such force in human history, 
 that incompetent that they can't even handle a 'sure thing' 
 anymore? Was their failure to fire a single shot in our defence 
 when we came under attack on our home soil, merely an indication 
 of the rot and degeneration that has set in? And if not, how DO 
 you explain their inability to protect and defend us?

 Vietnam too was supposed to be Easy Pickins. It too was an
 impoverished nation with nothing but a no-tech guerilla army. 
 It too was supposed to be a short campaign. Instead, decades 
 later, with the nation in turmoil, we ended up getting our 
 asses kicked as we beat a hasty and humiliating retreat. Here 
 we go again. 

 Immediately after 9/11 we had the entire world's full and
 deserved sympathy. Now, after our insane and senseless Blood 
 Revenge, the whole world is convinced we're a bunch of sadistic, 
 cruel assholes. Nobody wants anything to do with us any more. 
 Our closest allies hold their noses when we come around. Ol
 Yeller, our Paycheck Patriots at DoD and our Congressional War 
 Wimps have actually turned it completely around to where 
 everyone is now growingly convinced that WE are the Bad Guys. 
 Having a retard for President is starting to look suicidal.
......................................................................

                       DA MUTTS
 
 After that disappointing weekend, Coach Knutson's Purple Puppies
 headed south with revenge in their eyes. Portland was the victim. 
 Da Mutts lost a 11-10 squeaker there a week earlier, but this week 
 nailed the Tree Huggers 10-0. That's more like it. Didn't even 
 have to use Shawn "Killah" Kohn, their hottest pitcher, either.

 After they shoveled the snow off the field Friday morning, Shawn 
 got to take a whack at UC Riverside in the first game of a home 
 weekend series at the Dawg House on Montlake Ave. He went the 
 whole game giving up only 1 earned run. He's now 4-0 and hotter
 than a secret video-tape of that stripper at the Seattle Police 
 Department Christmas Party. They only needed a 2nd inning effort 
 to win the game. Aaron Hathaway from Vancouver got 2 Ribbies going 
 4-3 and Tyler Davidson from Edmonds also chipped in a couple Ribbies. 
 They spent the rest of the game making Snow Angels in the outfield. 
 Mutts win 6-1.

 The second game Friday was a different story. After dragging
 butt the whole game, the Purple Puppies tied it up in the 9th
 and looked like they might steal it but fell short. Dave Dowling
 from Kirkland took the loss but he was one of five pitchers as 
 Coach Knutson had to dig deep into his bullpen. Mutts lost 7-4.

 There was another game Sunday afternoon but I missed it.
 
 They hit the road now with a couple early week games against the
 Kountry Kousins at Wazoo in Pullman, then head south for an away
 weekend series against Arizona State. No doubt Alice Cooper will 
 be waving his snakes around and telling everybody how much he 
 loves Jesus. Someday somebody's going to sneak a rattlesnake in
 there and surprise the hell outta that jughead eh. Mutts will
 be back here a week from tomorrow (Tues.) against Gonzaga.
  
........................................................................

 "What then shall we Christians do with this damned, rejected race
  of Jews? Since they live among us and we know about their lying
  and blasphemy and cursing, we cannot tolerate them if we do not
  wish to share in their lies, curses and blasphemy. In this way, 
  we cannot quench the inextinguishable fire of Divine Rage nor
  convert the Jews. We must prayerfully and reverentially practice
  a merciful severity. Perhaps we may save a few from the fire and
  flames [of Hell]. We must not seek vengence. They are surely being
  punished a thousand times more than we might wish them. Let me
  give you my honest advice:
  
  First, their synagogues should be set on fire...
  Secondly, their homes should likewise be broken down and destroyed...
  Thirdly, they should be deprived of their prayerbooks and Talmuds...
  Fourthly, their rabbis must be forbidden, under threat of death, to
      teach anymore...
  Fifthly, passport and travelling privileges should be absolutely
      forbidden...

 To sum up, dear princes and nobles who have Jews in your domains,
 if this advice of mine does not suit you, then find a better one
 so that you and we may all be free of this insufferable devilish
 burden - the Jews.

                      - Martin Luther -
                 famous Catholic school grad
                            from:
                 "On the Jews & Their Lies"
                 
........................................................................
  
                     -  MONDO VATICANO -

 The old Pollock seems to have developed problems with his knees.
 The Vatican Spin Doctors are saying it's because of his extreme
 piety - too much time spent praying on his knees. Translation:
 he's become so fat and bloated that his knees have finally caved
 in from hauling all that blubber around.

			+	+	+

 On Friday, St. John of God was remembered. I really like this guy.
 As a kid he was kidnapped by a passing priest who made him his
 sex slave. Further down the road after having his way with John,
 the priest just abandoned him in the middle of nowhere far from
 home. Homeless and with no means of support, John did his best to
 survive. Scrounging out a living by thievery and thugery, he must
 have been pretty good at it because a local rich guy hired him as
 his bodyguard. He went from there into the army where he became
 famous for his cruelty and perversity towards any enemy - rape,
 torture and looting were his trademarks. Then it was down to Morocco 
 to work for his Portugese countrymen managing the camps run for
 their AFrican slave trade. He was one sick son of a bitch by most 
 accounts. Really got a kinky sadistic kick out of hurting people.

 Around about the age of 40 it all started to catch up with him. 
 Pretty much to the point where he was even grossing himself out
 and too old to be a hired thug any more, he opened some religious-
 artifact booths in Gibraltar. Business took off like a rocket and 
 soon he was rolling in Dough. Then he heard a sermon by Blessed 
 John of Avila. Whatever it was St. John heard, it terrified him -
 he went freak'n nuts and ran screaming through the streets tearing 
 his hair out and scaring the hell outta everybody. Some people who 
 recognized him wrestled him down and took him to the hospital where 
 Blessed John paid him a visit. This calmed him down temporarily but 
 with repeated episodes, he was soon on his way to whatever passed 
 for a Looney Bin back then. 

 When he got out, he was determined to turn his life around and try
 to make some gesture of reparation for all the Evil he'd perpetrated
 over the years. He didn't really believe he could be forgiven but he
 felt he had to do SOMETHING. He used the money from his stores to buy 
 a house for the homeless of Granada. He didn't care who they were: 
 whores, bums, cripples, thieves, con-artists - didn't matter to him. 
 You needed 3-hots-and-a-cot, John would fix you up. Didn't matter if
 you were a Catholic, Jew or Atheist, he'd take care of you.
 
 Being something of a natural businessman, he financed this home by 
 selling firewood. People were really impressed by what he was doing 
 and, knowing the money was going for Good Works, they bought lots 
 of his firewood. Many offered to help. He devoted the remainder of 
 his life to using his home to do works of Loving Kindness for the 
 poor. He lived in the house he had made just as any other 'bum' - 
 he ate what they ate, slept where they slept. He didn't pull rank 
 or milk it.  Every morning, he'd head out to sell firewood to pay 
 the bills. 

 The people of Grenada developed a great affection for him and 
 considered him a very holy man. He told them they were nuts - he 
 was far worse than any of them and deserving of neither their 
 love nor affection. They didn't buy that of course but they did 
 buy his firewood and helped him best they could.

			+	+	+ 

 While the Crazy Old Ladies In Black (COLIB) piss and moan about 
 how the Jews/Protestants/Muslims/Pagan/Atheists, with the help
 of their Media lackies, are all "Out To Get" poor Mother Church 
 vis a vis their objection to Boston's Cardinal Bernie Law feeding 
 hundreds of innocent young children to men he knew were pedophiles; 
 and while Cardinal Bernie plays his phony 'just a simple, innocent
 country priest' schtick, apparently imagining the whole world is
 as stupid as the COLIBs; while his Holy Senility in Roma snoozes
 away oblivious to his Church crashing down about his ears; while
 every other Bishop in America desperately scrounges about their
 parishes in search of pervert priests in hopes of getting their
 face on the front cover of Newsweek too; not everyone has gone 
 totally braindead or mishuge. There are still a few honest men
 left.
 
 Bishop Tony O'Connell of the diocese of Palm Beach, Florida offered 
 his resignation last week after admitting to molesting a teen-age 
 seminarian 25-years ago. Instead of trying to Weasel his way out he 
 just honestly admitted the truth and gave every indication that he 
 fully realized the horror of his actions. It's called repentence. 
 They ought to fly him to Boston so he can give Cardinal Law a few
 lessons in how its done. He's thrown himself at the mercy of the
 Church and his God. While I don't know much about the circumstances
 of Bishop Tony's public confession, I tend to think it would not
 only be morally wrong to can him, it would be extraordinarily 
 stupid. Decent, humble men are few and far between in the Catholic
 Church these days. We need everyone of them we can find, however
 otherwise humanly flawed they may be.

			+	+	+

 While the Vatican and the U.S. Conference of Bishops have been
 busy sucking up to Uncle Sammy for his sick and sadistic Blood
 Revenge Trip in Afghanistan, the 1,500 leaders of religious
 clergy in 700 Catholic institutes in the U.S. begged to differ. 
 They made it clear this week that Uncle Sammy's anti-terrorism
 reprisals have gone way too far. The annual joint meeting of
 the National Boards of the Leadership Conference of Women
 Religious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men held in
 Jacksonville, Florida condemmed both the 9/11 terrorist attacks
 AND our military response to them. No response from the Uncle
 Tom the U.S. Conference of Bishops recently picked to be their
 public face. He's been kind of tied up shinning everybody's 
 shoes and lying his butt off on their behalf with respect to 
 the pervert priests thingee lately. 

			+	+	+

 Future-Super-Saint JP-2 got served with a lawsuit this week by
 German artist Karl-Friedrich Lentze. He's suing His Holiness in
 the International Court at the Hague for his stand against the
 use of condoms. Karl says it sucks Bigtime and JP-2 should be
 held responsible for the deaths that have resulted. It is a
 legitimate lawsuit and JP-2 will have to respond or default.
 They won't go for the Bum Knee excuse. And if he blows them off
 too many times, the Vatican will get kicked out, endangering its
 sovereign-nation status.

			+	+	+

 Mexican Cardinal Norberto Rivera Carrerra this week drew on 
 his extensive academic background in psychiatry and years of 
 clinical psychiatric experience to declare that Juan Diego, 
 Santa Claus, Marvin the Martian and the Easter Bunny are all 
 real and only someone who is mentally ill would refuse to 
 believe so. Actually Norby doesn't know shit from shinola when 
 it comes to psychiatry and posseses neither academic credentials 
 nor experience in that field. In fact its more than a little 
 pathologically delusional for him to be making clinical 
 assessments of this sort.

 Juan Diego is the fictional fairy-tale character to whom Our 
 Lady of Guadaloupe supposedly appeared centuries ago. There 
 isn't the slightest bit of evidence he ever existed and, therefore
 nothing to support the existence of the visions. Nonetheless, 
 the Vatican, desperate for cheap Mexican labor, is going to go 
 ahead and canonize him as a saint anyways. He won't be our first 
 pretend saint. The only nut-cases running around here are Cardinal 
 Norby and the Curia fruitcakes in Roma. They must have forgot to 
 put the aluminum foil under their beanies again. 

			+	+	+

 Speaking of pervert priests...rest assured when you make your
 donation to the annual diocese fundraising that a healthy chunk
 of it will be going for secret payoffs to the victims of abusing 
 priests. How much? None of your damn business. Just shut up and
 fork over the Dough or you're going straight to Hell buster. Oh.
 And God bless you child. Many Catholics imagine this to be the
 Natural Order of things and further imagine themselves to be
 defending the Catholic Way of Life. Whatever. It's their money.
 If they want to throw it away, that's their business. I always
 donate directly to the specific Catholic charties of my choice.
 I never, ever put anything in the basket. And I certainly never
 give anything to the annual diocese fund-raising. When there is
 some accountability and honesty in the system, I'll start
 donating to the diocese. I ain't holding my breath. If they
 want to close the cathedrals down for lack of funds and ship
 the Bishops back to Rome - I can live with that.

--------------------------------------------------------
 The above is copyright material. You want to use it,
 ask. You want to make money off it, gimme some first.
 I'll let you know if it's enough. You want to steal it,
 I'll sic my lawyer Yoshi 'The Proctologist' Rasmussen
 on you baby. He'll teriyaki your sorry butt and turn
 it into Lutefisk.
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