__
                           __ _ / _|_ __ ___
                  _____   / _` | |_| '_ ` _ \   _____
                 |_____| | (_| |  _| | | | | | |_____|
                          \__,_|_| |_| |_| |_|
                          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.
         -------------------------------------------------

                               - 161 -

 THE MILE...

 It was 69 years ago last Saturday that they held the first running
 of the Longacres Miles stakes race. COLDWATER won it by a nose in
 what must have been an exciting race.

 Yesterday the event was renewed once again. It is our Kentucky Derby.
 While Churchill Downs where the Derby is run has graded stakes races
 nearly every weekend, Emerald Downs only has one, single, solitary 
 graded stakes race during the entire year - the Longacres Mile. It
 is a Major Event for the local racing crowd. With a Quarter of a
 Million Bucks on the line for two-minutes work, a couple of Ringers
 always ship up from NoCal and SoCal with their Big Name trainers
 and Jockeys in tow in hopes of fleecing the local flock. It is the
 one day of the year the High & Mighty of racing descend on our humble
 dirt to partake of our hospitality. We of course welcome them with
 open arms. Horse people, for all their fierce competitiveness, are
 a civilized and genial crew well-known for their old-fashioned
 manners and down-to-earth ways. 

 This year's Mile is a bit of a bummer. SoCal only sent up one of
 Dick "The Old Hippy" Mandela's old dogs that hasn't won a race 
 since February. NoCal just sent a few has-beens. Not even any of
 the Hot Jocks like Gary Stevens, old Laffit the Pirate or the  
 traditional appearance of NoCal's Gary Baze. Even the Canuks up
 at Hastings Park in Vancouver only sent one good horse and a
 third-string Jock. Either a Quarter-Million Bobs don't rate any
 more or Mr. Stronich, the Emperor of SoCal, is still putting the 
 Squeeze on us.

 The local boys were all over it this time. SABERTOOTH won paying
 $37.20 back on a $2 win ticket. WooHoo!

 SIGNS...

 Of course the city's bylaw prohibiting posters on utility poles was
 illegal. The City's attorney knew that when he wrote it up. No one
 in America has greater contempt for our system of laws than the
 government attorneys, cops and judges entrusted with it. They look
 upon our laws as a convenience to be invoked when useful to serve
 their purposes and ignored when they don't. From KingCo Inferior
 Court's Judge Jimmy "The Token Twinkie" Doerty using our judicial
 system for purposes of personal revenge all the way to our FBI 
 that has a rap-sheet of convictions against it that would shame 
 most of the Perps they bust, they are all a bunch of lying
 hypocrites.

 We are NOT a nation of laws. We are a nation of legal capriciousness 
 and selective enforcement. Our legislative lawmakers have so totally
 bloated our law books with duplication, triplication and quadruplication
 that if our laws were ever enforced to the letter, we'd all be in prison.
 That seems to be the general idea. Like the psychiatrists and their
 dumbass Diagnostic Statistical Manual in which just being alive 
 qualifies as a form of insanity. They got you come'n and go'n.

 Nice to see people plastering stuff up already. It's a refreshing
 break from the creatively constipated garbage the city puts up.

 MIXED SIGNALS...

 I often see various auslanders, from Canuks to Frenchies, claiming
 America has gone nutso in the wake of 9/11. They seem to imagine
 we are mad with grief. And they invoke this explanation in an 
 effort to compassionately explain the present vicious irrationality 
 of our Psycho-Hillbilly political leadership.

 It's nonsense of course. We're the same stuck-in-the-mud Old Fogeys 
 we've always been. America more closely resembles a Grange Meeting
 packed with plump, pink, prudish, superstitious farmers than a nut
 house. Our self-declared reputation for giddy eccentricity is grossly
 over-blown. We hated Elvis when he started. We called Marilyn Monroe 
 a Jew Slut. We hate new ideas. We hate free-spirits who buck the
 Established Natural Order of Things. We hate smart-ass eggheads who 
 are brighter than we are. We prima facie distrust one another and
 liberally lie our asses off to any and all comers. We believe in God
 as long as He gives us what we want. We always have and likely always 
 will be this way.

 I think the misapprehension comes from our News Nazis. Having lived
 outside of America for extended periods of times, I was completely
 dependent on the image of America our Media Scum presented. Even I,
 with my savagely cynical and skeptical bend of mind, eventually was
 mesmerized by their Sling. The sumbitchs hypnotised me plain and 
 simple. I started thinking everybody in America lived like Frazier.
 It's not like they give you anything else to see or hear.

 But when I returned to America, the spell was broken. I was happy
 to rediscover yet again that America had lots of dark-skinned 
 people, spoke a cacaophny of foreign tongues, had tons of homeless
 sleeping in store entrances, had vacuously sterile cities built 
 for machines not people and threw its trash recklessly everywhere. 
 That's the America I remembered. I knew it was still there somewhere. 
 Just not in the Media. The contrast between the image we beam to the 
 world and the Real Thing could not be greater. You'd almost think 
 they are ashamed of who we really are.

 The illusion that we've gone nuts is largely a reflection of the
 insanity of our News Nazis, not us. They no longer attempt to 
 REFLECT American society, but instead TELL us what to think.
 Gone are the independant newspapers, TV/Radio stations and the
 diversity they represented. A small handful of very rich Right
 Wing Wackos now own damn near everything. They only hire other 
 Right Wing Wackos who reflect their 'philosophy'. And they in 
 turn only open their mics/cameras/pages to the Paycheck Patriots 
 who embrace the Official Party Line. Morons whom they flog as 
 being 'represenative'. Of what? Bullshit? You won't find America 
 in America's media any longer. It ain't there.

 Tune around the talk-radio shows and there isn't a single one of 
 them that can be even vaguely described as middle-of-the-road 
 let alone liberal. They're ALL right-wing Wackos. TV is no 
 different. A few timidly moderate columnists and journalists are 
 allowed in the newspapers. But you won't find any real progressives 
 let alone socialists or Greenies. Nope, brainless shilling for the 
 Democratic Party doesn't count as being liberal. Bubba Jay was the 
 most conservative Prez we've had in a century - until Monkey Boy 
 came along. Our Media does not reflect us; it instead, attempts 
 to force us into it's own mold. It preaches to us incessently not
 allowing us to get a word in edgewise.

 Our Media Face isn't even vaguely represenative of the mainstream.
 The great unwashed American masses have quietly turned their backs 
 on politics and the world. They don't vote. They don't make any 
 real attempt to stay informed. They hate everything political 
 and all that our self-serving political Joboise stands for. With 
 elections reduced to corporate-canidate raffles run by our News 
 Nazis, spewing out indistinguisable/unqualified canidates and 
 unopposed judges, voting has become a waste of time. We're 
 supposed to pretend that winning canidates who only mustered a
 tiny fraction of the electorate are represenative of anything.
 Neither our News Nazis nor the pols they stick us with have any 
 respect for our traditions. They recently flushed our Constitution 
 and Bill of Rights down the toilet with nary a thought or care. 
 In place of any real electoral input to this process, we're fed 
 manufactured/rigged polls that instead TELL us what we believe
 and how we feel.

 These people aren't the Silent Majority often invoked by Tricky
 Ricky Nixon back in the 70's. They are the Silenced Majority 
 created by Presidents Bubba Jay and Yellowbelly in recent years. 
 They've been shut out of the decision-making loop and cynically 
 relegated to just paying the bills and keeping their mouths shut. 
 They're TOLD how to think. They aren't allowed to express themselves.
 And if they attempt to anyways? They may well find a couple G-Men
 at their front door wanting to discuss their political views. Or,
 as has happened to thousands of citizens, they will simply vanish.
 It's real baby. Ain't no dream.

 Like Rooskies in Stalinist times, we just keep our mouths shut, 
 our heads down and try to stay invisible. Let the Yahoos fly
 their flags and bang their war drums. Sure it's garbage, but
 cowards survive, heroes get shot. No point in fighting it. They 
 will simply crush you if you try. Unlike those old Rooskies, we
 have been given mucho Bucks and toys in compensation thanks to
 Mr. Greenspan's Magic Economic Bubble. We've become Wanker Nation 
 do'n the Hand Jive and love'n every minute of it. Living in a
 non-existent Dream World.

 BANG! Oh oh. The bubble just popped. I wonder what'll happen now?

 PAYCHECK PATRIOTS SCALP INJUNS...

 While everybody is weeping and wailing about the Enron et al.
 financial scandals, a much larger rip-off has gone almost completely
 unnoticed: the federal Interior Department rip-off of the Individual 
 Indian Money trust fund at the Bureau of Indian Affairs. And for good 
 reason: the thieves were all employees of Uncle Sammy and the money 
 they stole was tax-money. Your Civil Servants at work as your tax 
 dollars disappear into their backpockets.

 Over $137 BILLION Bucks are still missing and unaccounted for.
 Not that the Secretary of the Interior is looking. She couldn't
 give less of a damn. As far as she's concerned, the Injuns are
 just outta luck. And what the hell - there's plenty more money
 where that came from: your paycheck. Why should she worry? It
 beats paying those useless bums overtime.

 The scale of fraud was many times larger than the corporate fraud 
 yet I'll bet you've never even heard mention of it. Our News
 Nazis have carefully kept it out of the public eye. Might make
 people think anti-government thoughts. No telling where that
 might lead.

......................................................................

       Marrigage is a great institution, but I'm not ready 
       for an institution yet.

                         - Mae West -
......................................................................

                        TILLIKUM CANOES

 I found the Tall Ships event largely a disappointment. The cover
 picture in one of the local rags summed it up nicely - it looked 
 like a Where's Waldo puzzle. You had to look very closely to find 
 the 'tall ship' in the picture. Pretty puny. Thankfully neither
 of the two big local aircraft carriers stationed here showed up or
 the mighty Tall Ships would have looked mighty pathetic as well.

 More impresive for my money, was what has become the annual coastal
 Siwash paddle-about. Members of each of the tribes remaining along
 the coast join together in their war-canoes and visit various towns
 and villages around Puget Sound, Juan de fuca Strait and Georgia
 Strait. The route's a little different each time. No big cities. 
 Just small coastal places where the Tillikum live. And wherever 
 they pull in for the night, it's an instant party. Lots to eat, 
 dancing, etc. etc. Everybody is real happy to see them. After 
 kind of sputtering along at first, it now seems to have become a 
 regular thing.

 In the old days there used to be quite a lot of 'socializing' among
 the many and diverse people who have lived here for millenia. So much 
 so that they developed a special jargon/trade-language called "Chinook"
 made up of bits and pieces of their many languages, so they could talk
 to each other. Being very flexible as languages go, it eventually came
 to incorporate English, French, German and other European languages too.
 A hundred years ago, everyone around here was bilingual and able to speak
 at least English and Chinook. They pretty much HAD to to get along.

 Sometimes their purpose in visiting was recreational (the Nootka liked
 to drop in on the Makahs and kick their asses just for fun), other
 times it was serious warfare, but overwhelmingly it was just to trade.
 The Chinook near the mouth of the Columbia River used to trade slaves 
 to the Nootka on Vancouver Island for those pretty little blue shells
 that decorate ceremonial clothes. The Nootka put their slaves to work
 digging up more shells of course. They treated their slaves far better
 than any hillbilly down south ever did. And it was usually pretty easy 
 to escape. Make a nuisence of yourself and they might even help you
 escape just to get rid of you. There was at least one book written by
 a 'white slave' who had been a guest of the Nootkas. 

 The big canoes all but disappeared until just a few decades ago. All 
 the old-timers who knew how to build them, died off. With their kids
 getting hauled off to distant government residential schools (a common
 destination for Washington kids was Oklahoma) and often legally
 forbidden from living as Tillikum, the people eventually lost much of
 their way of life - including the big canoes. Then along came B.C.
 Haida artist Bill Reid. One of the last great acts of his life (he
 died in 1998) was to oversee the building of a traditional sea-going
 canoe. It was the first one built in over a century. Call it a big 
 lump of wood if you like, but it set off a mighty spark in the soul 
 of Tillikum all up and down the coast. They were paddling again in 
 no time and relearning how to be a people once more.

                                 .

 Building a big canoe is a high art. That is no exaggeration at all.
 I had the privilege of watching a 85-old Cree neighbor build a small,
 regular canoe once. For weeks beforehand he went out walking around
 looking for just the right tree. Real picky son of a gun. He told
 me that whenever he found a possible canidate he had a good long
 chat with it to see if it was willing to go along with his plan. If
 it expressed any hesitation, he moved along to look for another one.
 BTW - I never once saw a bottle of booze around this man. He was
 always stone, cold sober. Drank a lot of tea though. I didn't ask
 him what kind.

 Once he found a willing victim, he wanted to drop it the traditional 
 way: tear a wide strip of bark from around it and let it slowly die, 
 then hack away at it with a little hatchet, like a beaver, until it 
 fell over and, finally, wait two or three years for it dry out. A 
 little pressed for time, we convinced him a chain-saw and rapid 
 deployment of the carcass was a necessary expedient. He thought we 
 were savages for suggesting such a thing but did reluctantly agree
 to humor us and do it our way. He couldn't bring himself to watch. 

 A little pissed about having to work with 'young wood', he eventually
 settled in the back yard with an old canvas tent and his two wives.
 He had an old wife to run things and a young wife to do the work and
 keep him young. The young wife had a young child trailing along behind
 her. It was his. If that seems a little unusual, John Dobson the
 legendary San Francisco amateur astronomer and inventor of the 
 Dobsonian telescope, was another Octagenarian with a young wife and 
 child. Some guys don't need no steenkin Viagra. All the locals kept
 a close eye on the Old Coot and his wives bringing them a steady 
 supply of moose meat, bannock and tea plus whatever else they needed.
 while keeping them up to date on the town gossip. Those Crees will 
 talk your ear off if you give them half a chance.

 Over the summer, using nothing but an ordinary old butter knife he
 had sharpened up plus a small hatchet, he set about building his 
 canoe. I didn't expect much. He was a shaky old man with bad eyes
 who refused to wear glasses of any kind. So when the symmetry and 
 tolerances of the pieces took on a precise, manufactured look, I 
 was more than a little surprised. Watching him shape each one was
 like watching an artist at an easel - he lavished his full and
 unqualified attention on it. The blueprints were in his head. He
 didn't need nothing down on paper.

 An Industrial Designer buddy who was a grad of the prestigous Royal
 Design Institute in London came up with a busload of his collegues 
 to take a look. He was teaching at a nearby university and had taken
 an early interest in the project. I told him, "You gotta see this
 thing John. You won't believe it." Sure enough they could not believe
 that rickity old man with his little butter-knife made that thing
 once they saw it. Whipping out their tape-measures they measured it 
 up and just stood there shaking their heads. Old Dolphus had eyeballs 
 as sharp and precise as lasers. And those shaky old hands were rock
 steady when they needed to be. It seemed a little strange to see 
 these guys who had access to the most modern, high-tech materials
 and tools comparing notes with this half-crazy old man with two wives.
 Dolphus took it in stride. It was no Biggie to him. They even sent 
 somebody over to the general store to get a couple cans of his 
 favorite pipe tobacco to facilitate communications.

 The weird part was: rather than look like it just rolled off an 
 assembly line, that canoe looked like it grew that way. It really 
 was a genuine piece of art. I've seen many artists attempt to make
 a dead piece of wood 'come alive' but I've never seen anyone 
 succeed at it the way Dolphus did. A passing tourista in a big,
 fat RV offered him $6,000 cash for it. But Dolphus gave it to 
 his son-in-law for free. He was one of them Cree Fundamentalist 
 Extremists who valued blood above money. There are still a few 
 of them around.
                                 .

 The Tillikum have lost an awful lot. But the most amazing thing
 about them is that there are any left at all. We did, afterall,
 attempt at one time to wipe every single man, woman and child of
 them off the face of the earth. And if it weren't for our limited
 technical means and the vast geography involved, we may well have
 succeeded. We tried forced winter marches that killed off thousands;
 we tried starving them in bare-grass concentration camps without
 any shelter and only garbage for food; we tried germ-warfare against
 them making gifts of smallpox-infested blankets to warm their
 babies with; we tried everything we could think of. But they
 survived it all.

 They've lost much of their heritage and ways, but they are clinging
 by their finger-nails to what is left. Forced by circumstances to
 keep one foot in the White World of anything-for-a-buck and the
 other in their traditional world, the balancing act ain't easy or
 always successful. Often our politicians shamelessly exploit them
 to serve their own aggendas while screwing them out of what is
 rightfully theirs. They bear it with far more patience than we 
 would if the roles were reversed. They are the Human Beings and
 someday, no doubt, they will reinherit what's left of this place
 after we finish trashing it. They will inherit this earth. They 
 will survive.

 n.b.
 In case you haven't figured it out: 'tillikum' are the people we call
 'indians', though we know they aren't from India. 'Siwash' are specific
 tillikum nations. It's Chinook jargon - more authentic, accurate and
 poetic than the verbal garbage we come up with in describing them.

.........................................................................

                    Macho does not prove mucho.

                         - Zsa Zsa Gabor -

.........................................................................

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

 Dear Diary,

 Weeellll Doggies! Got a real nice letter this week from Osama and 
 Mullah Umar down in the Cayman Islands. Osama said he read that news
 item about me saying that I 'haven't heard from him lately' when 
 someone asked his whereabouts. It remembered him that he hadn't 
 dropped a line in quite a while. Says him and the Mullah have kind 
 of been tied up lately building a new underground mosque. Even threw 
 in a couple snaps to show how its come'n along. Kind of remembered 
 me of that big hole in NYC where the WTC towers used to be. Once 
 they get 'er built and covered back over, it'll look pretty dang 
 snazzy with that sexy new SAM battery mounted up top. I guess they
 ain't much for put'n crosses on top of their churches.
 
 There's get'n to be quite a crowd of Ragheads down there now. Them
 colored folks sure got a thing about bring'n a big Posse with them. 
 Cultural conflicts are bound to arise in such a social mileu eh.
 One of them got caught with what appeared to be the skinned remains 
 of a black Lab on his backyard BBQ last week. The Mayor had to lay 
 down the law and remind them: no making kabobs out of the neighbors
 pets. There's talk of moving them off to their own little island
 away from regular White Folks.

 I been busy shake'n down them Ragheads to see who don't want to get
 nuked by the Izzies when they make Iraq glow in the dark. Told 'em
 straight out: if you ain't with us against Iraq, you're an enemy. I
 made sure ahead of time they understood the general meaning of 'enemy' 
 in this context - Israeli Target. 

 That's got to be one of the best deals I ever made. About two seconds
 after he got elected, General Sharon was on the Horn with a very
 interesting proposition: give him a free hand against the Palestinians
 and he'd nuke Saddam for me so's I didn't get the blame. It was like
 that Jew Boy was read'n my mind and I told him so. He said he kind of
 figgered I might want to finish off the job my Daddy left undone. He
 mentioned it was kind of a priority with him to even the score with
 Saddam after he whacked the Izzies with missles back then. He wanted
 to make sure it never happened again.

 He figgered it'd be easy to fake a smallpox attack from Iraq and cut
 loose in "self-defense". Ain't no way anybody could ever prove otherwise
 than he was just protect'n his own. Anybody even sniffs in that direction
 he'd see to it they got tagged worldwide as anti-semitic bigots. Not
 that a mass-murder'n War Criminal like him gives a rat's ass what the
 World thinks about anything. They can kiss his sweet patootie far as he's
 concerned. They already hate Israel's guts. What's another log on the 
 fire? I like the way that Jew Boy thinks. 

 Long as I got deniability and get the oil, it works for me. If there is
 any retaliation, it'll be aimed at the Izzies, not us. When the world
 explodes in disgust at the Nuclear Holocost, it'll aim its venom at them,
 not me. I've been practicing my best Hang Dog look to express my own
 personal regret at Ari's actions. Meanwhile we'll see if we can't
 scrounge us up some hungry 3rd World types to wander into Iraq afterwards
 and get them oil pipelines flowing. Money in the bank baby. Don't want to
 risk regular white folks for dangerous work in a radioactive zone.

 I was good for my end of the bargain and let him whack away at his
 Palestinians as much as he pleased. And after we finished trash'n
 Afghanistan, I called him up and told him it was time for him to live 
 up to his end of the deal. Said I was a-go'n after Saddam next. He 
 just chuckled and said, "What took you so long?"

 So let everybody piss and moan all they like. A deal's a deal and 
 there ain't no back'n out of this one. Everybody's expecting a big,
 expensive, long drawn-out invasion. "Oooh! We can't afford it!", 
 they whine. "Oooh! Everybody will hate us.", they whimper. "Oooh!
 It'll destabilize the region", they simper. Like General Sharon 
 says - yadda, yadda, yadda. Boy are they going to be surprised when 
 it ends up lasting about 15 minutes and costing us next to nothing.
 Destabilize the region? After them Jew Boys get finished, the only
 question left will be: what region? They'll all be lining up to
 kiss my ass after that. Step outta line again and I'll sic my Krazy
 Jews on 'em.

 General Powell left another one of his Brain Storms on my answering
 machine again. This one was about that big Tree Huggers convention
 coming up soon. He figgers we ought to pass out complementary gift
 bags of freebees: coupons for free oil changes, half-off on their
 next tune-up, special convention discount on TVs/radios/etc, souvenir
 "Special Forces" hats, that sort of thing. Make it a nice sexy shinny
 mylar plastic bag with a wave'n flag and the words "God Bless America!"
 in red, white and blue on the side. That ought to get their goat. 
 Sounds like he's come'n around to our way of thinking. I sent him an
 email okaying his idea and ask'n him to fill in for me. I got a heavy
 golf schedule that week.

 Better cut 'er short. My Better Half just put on that Madonna CD and
 has been sass-shay'n around the room like a butterfly. Guess it's 
 THAT day of the week again. Better tend to my chores.

 This Blunt's for you,

 Yeller 

.............................................................................

        Miracles are so called because they excite wonder. In
        unphilosophical minds, any rare or unexpected thing 
        excites wonder, while in philosophical minds the familiar 
        excites wonder also.

                      - George Santayana -

.............................................................................

                         -  MONDO VATICANO -

 Tomorrow is the memorial of a most peculiar and somewhat embarassing
 saint - St. Hugh of Lincoln. He's not to be confused with the former
 saintly bishop of that name who was an heroic opponent of Jew-baiting.
 Obviously this Hugh was deliberately created to offset the 'bad
 influence' of that other Jew-Loving liberal and confuse the heck out
 of everyone. Unlike most saints, this Hugh's story can be found
 outside of religious texts. Chaucer wrote of him in "The Prioress's
 Tale". 

 "Little Hugh" as he was commonly known in his neighborhood, was an
 8-year old child. He was lured into the home of a Jew by the name 
 of Koppin around Passover time. The Yid then savagely attacked the
 boy. In an effort eeriely similar to that employed by the Italian
 soldiers in the Roman Legion who tortured and murdered Christ, Mr. 
 Koppin tortured and tormented Little Hugh: scouraged him with a whip,
 cut off the child's nose and upper lip, busted him in the mouth until 
 all of his teeth were broken out, then set a crown of thorns upon the
 boy's tender young head. For the Grand Finale, he crucified him. As
 Little Hugh hung in bloody agony and torment on his little cross, the 
 Hebrew pierced his side with a sword. Afterwards, the Jew threw his
 crumpled and broken dead body down a well. 

 Mr. Koppin was to later claim that he was merely following the 
 traditional Jewish practice of sacrificing a Christian child on 
 Passover. Apparently he had been doing it for years without any
 complaints and thought it was okay. So the story goes.

 Little Hugh's lifeless and broken body was discovered a month or
 so later after the Jews tried to hide it. The stink gave it away.
 Over 93 Jews in the town were rounded up and 'questioned' in an
 appropriately effective manner. Mr. Koppin confessed to the crime
 and, being a back-stabbing Yid, denounced his fellow Jews for their 
 evil ways in an attempt to save his own neck. The clever ruse 
 didn't fool the good Christians of Lincoln.

 At least 19 Jews survived the 'questioning' phase of the investigation
 and went to trial. The judge was none other than King Henry III 
 himself. Quickly finding them guilty, he had all of them immediately
 hung. Presumedly Mr. Koppin was one of the 19. The rest were bailed 
 out of prison by the Franciscans at great expense in a remarkable 
 display of Christian compassion. No doubt on condition that they
 convert to Catholicism though that detail is often mysteriously
 omitted from the story. 

 Many miracles were soon attributed to Little Hugh and he was 
 declared a saintly martyr of the Roman Catholic Church. While
 St. Christopher and many other popular saints have been striken
 from the rolls over the years as bogus, Little Hugh remains an 
 officially recognized and venerated saint.

 And the Vatican wonders why Jews don't trust their cheap talk. 
 Pshaw! Maybe it's because they never back it up with real walk.
 The story of Little Hugh is baseless, Jew-baiting garbage that
 should have been relegated to the trash bin centuries ago. Jews
 have never made a Passover practice of torturing and murdering
 Christian children. The idea is stupid and preposterous bigotry
 of the worst sort.

				+	+

 They got out the Sacred Forklift and heisted Future-Super-Saint 
 JP-2's bloated, sickly carcass back aboard Holy Spirit I for his
 scheduled return to his Pollockish homeland last week. The usual
 "millions and millions" showed up to worship at his every slurred 
 word. Yeah right. The only way you'd get a million Pollocks to 
 show up for anything is if you promised free beer and plenty of 
 wayward women. You'd almost think Arthur Anderson's accountants 
 learned their trade at the knee of Vatican Sling Meisters. The 
 only memorable words out of the Papal Vegetable was some brainless 
 rant against those goddam liberals. Yawn. The old fascist fart 
 could have saved his garlic breath.

				+	+

 Better than a WWF Smack-Down, we were treated this week to a face-off
 between two almost equally matched anything-for-a-buck rip-off artists:
 Talk-Radio's "Opie & Anthony" vs. the Catholic League's "Wild Bill"
 Donohue. Opie & Anthony run a sleezy, third-rate talk show for Pimply
 Faced Youths and Super-Catholic Bill (rumored to be next Pope) runs a
 sleezy, third-rate bogus media-watchdog group. Just to spice things up,
 New York threw in an All-Gurrl judicial tag-team as referees - both the
 judge and prosecutor were of the female persuation. Marked by hypocracy,
 political-correctness, feigned public outrage, sex in inappropriate
 places and lots of bureaucratic belching and farting - this adventure 
 had more slime trailing behind it than a nuclear-mutant Seattle banana
 slug. Top-notch American entertainment.

 I'm not sure who the winner was but Opie & Anthony lost. They rather
 stupidly managed to get their show cancelled by its syndicator -
 Infinity Broadcasting. Since virtually all our media outlets are in
 the hands of only a few corporations and independants are nearly
 extinct, O&A are truely screwed. For what? For broadcasting a 
 live report of a young couple Porking one another in the back pews 
 at St. Pat's Cathedral in NYC on the Feast of the Assumption last 
 week. Now there's a noble cause upon which to impale one's career 
 fer sure Dude. I guess this pretty much confirms the rumors that 
 both are retards as well as idiots.

 Though many others were involved, the Catholic League's "Wild Bill" 
 was first out with the press releases and is claiming this as HIS win.
 Dubious but then so is most of what this hypocritical fruitcake does. 
 Nonetheless, I can't think of three people who deserve one another
 more than Opie, Anthony and "Wild Bill". A very kinky 'menage a tois' 
 fer sure.

 The next target for Wild Bill's Posse? That sassy, sexy Jesus-Killing 
 Jew Boy -  Howard Stern in Hymie Town. YeeHa! We gonna get us a 
 HE-brew Boyz.

				+	+
 
 Luigi Cascioli filed an odd lawsuit in the Italian courts recently.
 He's suing the Catholic Church - specifically the Vatican. Sure. Why
 not join the crowd eh. But his lawsuit isn't about priestly perverts.
 
 He's suing the Vatican under Articles 661 and 494 of the Italian 
 Criminal Code for 'abuse of popular credulity' and 'the substitution
 of person'. He says Jesus Christ never existed and the Vatican has
 been fraudulently milking its non-existent Savior all these years.
 Apparently this is the very first time anyone has so charged the
 Vatican. 

 The particulars and evidence are all spelled out in his book "The
 Fable of Christ". He imagines a successful prosecution will result
 in a virtual revolution forever ending the interminable religious
 debates that have so plagued us for lo these many millenia. He
 obviously has a lot more faith in the Italian judicial system than
 most Italians do. Laugh if you like. It's going to trial and there 
 will be a verdict one way or the other. And if the Vatican don't 
 show up, Luigi wins by default.

                      	+	+

 Our Gay priesthood came in for another round of publicity this 
 week. A survey of priests acknowledged that the Pink Peril was 
 firmly entrenched via powerful cliques, at every level of the 
 Church hierarchy. Of course it's always the OTHER priests who
 are Gay, not them.

 Any priest who publically acknowledges a Gay orientation, would 
 be out the door in a New York minute. So they all have to at least 
 pretend to be Straight if they want to keep their job. It was a 
 little odd reading an interview with a seminarian recently. The 
 first thing he wanted to discretely establish was that he was 
 Straight not Gay. He said 'not having kids' would be the biggest 
 sacrifice for him. Dude...SHE has the kids. You just watch. In 
 Olden Times we always used to shyly say 'sex'. But you got to be 
 a little more specific these days.

 Since there is no biological marker for Gayness, it is impossible
 to objectively establish anyone's sexual orientation. Many people
 rather ambiguously wander back and forth over the indivisble line
 between homosexuality and heterosexuality for much of their lives.
 Others, less fussy, simply gratify themselves with whatever is
 available. Priests obviously are not exempt from this struggle.
 And it's likely their celibacy forces them to struggle with it
 far more often and deeply than a married man. A struggle that 
 distracts them from the task at hand. Celibacy is the only vow
 they take that requires them to completely reject a Gift of God.
 It's a cruel and unusual stipulation of questionable spiritual
 merit. 
 
 Add Australian Bishop George Pell to the list of recently fallen.
 Better known around Melboune as "Georgie & The Spice Girls" on 
 account of his ever-present Posse of effeminate and tastefully
 attired assistants, he was that nation's ranking bishop. And,
 unfortunately, a pervert who liked to diddle kiddies.

 Meanwhile back in America, over 9 Grand Juries are probing various
 bishoprics as various prosecutors are preparing to charge various
 bishops. They keep saying it's improbable that any bishop will be
 charged but that's just political posturing to keep the Yahoos off
 their backs. Besides, why would they have active GJs if they were
 not serious about kicking some Bishop Boo-tay?
 
			+	+

 The former Sister Arambulo filed lawsuits against the Archdioceses
 of Los Angeles and San Antonio in America as well as the diocese of 
 Masbate in the Phillipines. She says she was raped by Monsignor
 Ernesto Villaroya. The rape resulted in a pregnancy that forced her
 to abandon her vocation. When she attempted to have the studly and
 macho Monsignor charged for his criminal act, every bishop she ran
 into refused to divulge his whereabouts. See. It isn't only kiddie
 rapists they protect and hide. And when the civil authorities went
 looking Ernesto the Macho Man, they ran into the same brick wall.
 But after nearly 10 years of hiding, the snake-in-the-grass finally
 came out. He now admits he is the father but doesn't admit to rape.
 
----------------------------------------------------
 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.
~--------------------------------------------------
 MAIL:    tofoggymoment@yahoo.com
 ARCHIVE: https://www.angelfire.com/nb/afm
--------------------------------------------------