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                         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.

                     THIS AIN'T NO STINK'N BLOG
                 
         ------------------------------------------------
         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.
         -------------------------------------------------

                             - 169 -

 It was 40 years ago today that President Kennedy begged to be
 excused from appearing at the Seattle World's Fair. He said he
 had a cold. As in Cold War. He was secretly monitoring what was
 to become the Cuban Missle Crisis - the showdown between us and
 the Rooskies that came very close to triggering a full-scale
 nuclear exchange.

 I noticed an article just this past week from a Soviet submariner.
 It sharply underlined just how close we got. The sub he was in
 was detected by our warships. Apparently unaware that it was
 carrying nuclear-tipped torpedos, they commenced to pound it with
 depth charges. After a couple hours of this pounding, with most
 of his crew out cold from the severe heat and likely feeling more
 than a little stressed out himself, the Soviet skipper ordered his 
 Mate to arm a nuke torpedo and prepare to fire it. As he was doing 
 so, another officer approached the skipper and reminded him that
 he hadn't fulfilled all the proceedural prerequistes for use of 
 nukes. The skipper thought better of his idea and ordered the Mate 
 to disarm the torpedo. He later gave in and surfaced. Doesn't sound 
 quiet kosher to me but, whatever...

 It will have been 56 years ago this coming Friday that German
 philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein went nose to nose with fellow
 philosopher Karl Popper in a debate and threatened to smack 
 him upside the head. He didn't actually made good on his threat 
 but the incident has become the stuff of philosophical legend.
 Nietzche would have knocked Popper on his ass right then and 
 there. Screw threats.

 VOTERS PAMPHLET...

 Of the 37 jobs up in the November election, less than one third
 (11) involve a choice. Over 2/3rds of the canidates are running
 unopposed and are defacto already elected. The major parties have
 made a joke of our elections, negotiating deals with one another
 to deprive the voters of a choice. They have turned elected positions
 into defacto Party appointments.

 SNUFF FREAKS...

 The Tarot/Beltway/Washington sniper is turning into an object
 lesson in how our News Nazis can generate mass hysteria. It
 really is amazing how easy it is to jerk Americans around. 
 After figuring out that it was likely some ordinary Loser 
 with a scoped hunting rifle, I ignored the rest of their 
 clueless bullshit. Given the general screw-ups we got for 
 cops nowadays, this guys(s) will likely get away just like
 the anthrax killer did. You remember him. Killed a bunch of
 people just a year ago or so. Come on. I know the News Nazis
 don't talk about him any more but you haven't forgot already?

 It was kind of strange that President Yellowbelly felt moved 
 to call the guy names and bring in the military as if he were 
 Saddam Hussein or Osama bin Laden. There's something you don't 
 see everyday. In fact I can't recall ANY President acting this 
 way before. But then Yeller's one thoroughly Whacked Out 
 coon-ass hillbilly.
 
 While all this is occurring, Yellowbelly is busy at the
 White House working with his military and political aides in
 preparation for an invasion of Iraq. Back in Baghdad, people
 are watching him as he prepares to steal their country from
 them. Does he intend to kill them and their children? What 
 kind of man would murder complete strangers for no good reason?  
 What kind of a coward sits thousands of miles away ordering
 others to do his dirty work for him?

 BTW - You may have noticed. The sniper started the day after Ari
 Fleisher, the resident White House Big Mouth, made his dumbass
 statement about how one bullet to Saddam's head would save us all 
 a lot of trouble. Doh. Maybe somebody wanted to show him American
 heads explode just as easy as Iraqi heads. Or maybe its just one
 of those funny coincidences.

 SMART POLLOCKS....

 Listening to Frankie Yankovic playing his polkas, it occured to me:
 Hey! He's a Pollock and he ain't dumb. Come to think of it, Joseph
 Conrad is one of my favorite writers and he was a Pollock too. And
 Jock Yablonski of the United Mine Workers Union who died serving his
 miners is one of my union heroes. Not all Pollocks are dumb. 

 But Chief Gil sure is and so is that slimebag of a School Super.
 Guys like that give Pollocks a bad name. Gil's the worst. Listening
 to him suck up to the widow of that federal judge who got murdered 
 was weird. A year's gone by already and his dumbass Donut Munchers 
 haven't found the killer. SPoDe ain't even come up with a suspect
 in custody. If it was a cop got murdered you bet your ass they would 
 have found him by now. This is making a lot of very Big People in
 the Judge Community very nervous. You ain't supposed to be able to 
 Off a judge and walk away. Especially not a Federal judge. Some of 
 them no doubt are wondering if Chief Gil gives a rat's ass about 
 them. A Career-Threatening situation for him. Thus his need to be 
 seen conspicuosly in sympathy with the widow and trying to Sling 
 himself as an ardent gun-control advocate. 

 Pshaw! It's as phony as that Community Policing bullshit he was
 slinging to get the job. We pass out Concealed Weapons Permits 
 in CrackerJack boxes around here. Our cops WANT citizens to be 
 packing their own personal Difference. It saves them a lot of 
 work. Gil never complained about it before.

 Oh well. Like they say down at the Soup Kitchen: the scum always 
 rises to the top.

 STINKY & SLADE...

 The Little Stinker, our gubnatorial midget, was joined this week
 by fellow Republican Slade Gorton, in an effort to con the voters 
 into voluntarily mailing their wallets into the State House in 
 Olympia. They want us to vote for R-51 instead of I-776. They want
 you to imagine our infrastructure problems are a matter of lack of
 money. Posh and Poppycock! The problem is idiot politicans who are
 manipulating infrastructure problems for their own personal aggendas
 and wasting a ton of money in the process. Stinky's vast powers of
 persuation are legendary. Whatever he says, the voters ignore. And
 he in turn ignores them and does it anyways. You really wonder why
 he even bothers. I'm not sure what Slade's doing here. After getting
 bumped off of his steady gig in the U.S. Senate by a rookie whose 
 only issue was that she wasn't Slade Gorton, getting laughed at by
 President Yellowbelly when he sought a cabinet job and getting 
 brushed aside when he tried to grab a seat on the District Court 
 bench, I guess this is what it's come down to: schlepping referenda 
 with a dwarf. Talk about a Terminal Loser. 

 BTW - Something tells me these two will be appearing together again
 in two years - as opponents for Governor. It's about the only Public
 Trough Job Slade hasn't taken a crack at yet. Name another Republican
 who's got a chance. Frank Chopp don't count.

 PEACE Y'ALL...

 The Nobel Peace Prize Committee really needs to set down some basic
 criteria for any future winners. The people they choose are really
 getting embarassing. Jimmy Carter's a nice guy and all but, come on,
 he's the President who authorized the CIA to hire a bunch of mercenary
 thugs from Argentina to come up to Nicaragua and terrorize that tiny
 country's civilian population when it dumped the vicious dictatorial
 bastard Samoza. Jimmy's Thugs raped, murdered and pillaged with very
 un-Christian reckless abandon. Not the sort of thing Jesus Would Do.
 Anyone who engages in terrorizing civilian populations should be 
 automatically disqualified for life from ever receiving the Nobel 
 Peace Prize - regardless of their religious pretentions and conspicuous 
 Good Works.

 I hope he had the decency to send President Yellowbelly a thank you
 note. As prize-committee members afterwards stated, the reason he
 got the Nobel was to embarass Yeller. President Bubba Jay is still
 working on that Nobel Biology prize. His research on human sexual 
 relations is certainly imaginative and novel, if a bit improbable.
 But it's not likely he'll get many citations in the literature until
 "Hustler" makes the list of approved journals.

 GRAND OPENING...

 After 1,600 years or so, the Great Library of Alexandria in Egypt
 reopened last week. Nigerian scholar Wole Soyinka delivered the
 inaugural speech while various African and European heads-of-state,
 royalty and other dignitaries looked on. Amongst those holding 
 library cards for this place back in the Good Old Days were the
 likes of Archimedes and Euclid. Alexandria was one of, if not the 
 most, significant centers of scholarship in the world back then. 
 This new library is a lot bigger and, unlike previous versions,
 fireproof. As long as the Christians don't riot and start burning
 books again, it should survive. 

 PISS OFF P-I...

 Looks like the Seattle Times is about to pull the rug out from under
 their only real competition - the Post Intelligencer. Unable to compete 
 with the P-I in their traditional morning/evening arrangement, the 
 Times moved to the P-I's morning spot and once again flopped. If they
 can't compete, obviously the next step is to try to force the competition
 out of business. The Times wants to back out of their joint publishing
 deal and keep the presses all to themselves. The P-I can stay in business
 if it likes. It just won't have any presses to publish with.

 There is no substantial difference between the two papers. They often
 carry the same headlines phrased slightly differently to preserve the
 illusion of difference. The Times plays the arrogant, pretentious local
 asshole paper while the P-I plays corporate suck-up in a cute pink,
 fuzzy bunny outfit. The P-I does not represent diversity in any way,
 shape or form.  Despite being home to the world's largest aircraft
 and software corporations, neither has ever made any special effort
 to cover either industry. Neither has ever been considered THE source
 for insider news about Boeing or Microsoft nationally let alone
 internationally. Both are smug, pretentious and totally provincial. 
 Their specialty is doing amateurish Hack Jobs, smearing the reputation,
 of whomever the local Manardins don't like. Out of town newspapers do
 very well here.

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

                      WEATHER STATION PAPA

 Once upon a time there used to be a ship in the Gulf of Alaska called
 "Weather Station Papa". It was actually two ships. They took turns
 sitting for a couple weeks at the specified latitude and longitude
 smack in the middle of one of the nastiest seas in the entire world.
 They were nearly identical in every respect and were about the same 
 size as those you can occasionally see at the NOAA dock on Lake Union.
 Pretty good size. Both called the Port of Victoria home. They were run 
 by the Canuks weather service which has gone under different names as
 it got shuffled from one Department to another. Prime Minister Trudeau
 pulled the plug on the Papas declaring that satellites did a better
 job. He meant cheaper not better but was too shy to say so. He also
 didn't know what he was talking about, nor did he care. It has left 
 a massive hole in weather forecasts throughout the Northwest deeper
 than Harry Woppler's dimples.

 I did vacation relief on board one fall years ago. I can't remember
 how exactly I ended up doing so. I was working for the weather service
 and somebody asked me out of the blue if I'd be interested in filling
 in. I'm stupid. I always say yes. That's probably why they asked me.
 I've been far less casual about my yes's since.

 My job was Upper Air Technician. I released those big hydrogen filled
 baloons with the little meteorlogical instrument and radio transmitter
 danging below. Just so I wouldn't look like a total putz, they shipped
 me to the Canuks training center for Upper Air operations outside 
 Toronto for a couple weeks to see how they do it. The place was actually
 a dinky old dump just east of T.O. that sat high on a bluff overlooking
 Lake Ontario. The trainers were the usual Government Lifers: friendly
 but with brains largely turned to oatmeal from years of filling out
 pointless forms. They were all old Dudes so I assumed the gig was the
 final stop on their Career Stream. They had bottles squirreled away
 in every conceivable nook and cranky of that joint. We had great fun
 'bombing' Buffalo on the other side of the lake. Our baloons often
 slowly drifted that way, popping miles above the city. The parachute
 on the little instrument thingee would sometime fail and it would came
 screaming down at speed, punching holes in people's roofs and cars. 
 I don't think they ever killed anyone though. The Canuks were lucky 
 in that respect. As far as I know, revelation of this is Secret Canadian 
 Bombing Campaign against the United States is an AFM exclusive. You
 read it here first.

 It was pretty simple in theory. You dump some water in the hydrolysis
 machine. It seperates the hydrogen from the oxygen. Then you whip out
 a big latex baloon and hitch it up to the hydrogen vent. It gradually
 fills up to prodigious size. When it looks about right, you tie it off
 and attach the instrument box on its long rope to the baloon. Take it 
 all outside. At the designated time you release it then run like hell
 back inside and fish around with the big dish antenna until it locks 
 onto the instrument package's radio signal. Once all the data is
 collected, you reduced it to a two-line set-format coded string that 
 you transmit by teletype machine to the Gods of Weather on the other 
 end. Hundreds of other people around the world were doing exactly the
 same thing at that very moment. It in effect produced a global snapshot
 of our atmosphere. It's done a little differently nowadays.

 As with all simple things, there were many things that could go 
 wrong. Their hydrolysis machine was a tad touchy. It had to be 
 operated exactly according to instructions and then you had to
 hover over it intently making sure it was working right. It 
 didn't always do so. Sometimes because it was broke but usually 
 because of hang-over induced 'operator error'. The latter was 
 a Career Limiting Move of the first order that could result in
 reassignment to a deserted little barren island in the Aleutians 
 where your screw-ups would be less destructive of the Scientific
 Order of Things.

 The baloon was a frequent source of trouble. You couldn't touch
 the latex with your fingers. Finger grease weakened the material.
 Once filled, you had to manouver this massive, bobbing blob outside
 without it touching anything or it would pop. That meant doing it
 over again. Doing it over again meant a delayed launch. Delayed
 launches involved considerably more paperwork. But worse of all,
 you would likely find yourself standing in a confined building
 that was suddenly filled with hydrogen. One little spark anywhere
 and...WHAMMMOOO! The stories of such events were legend in the
 weather service. Though fortunately lacking in the masive fire
 ball oxygen would have produced, hydrogen nonetheless makes one
 helluva BOOM when ignited. You can always tell the old operators.
 They say HUH? real loud a lot and have trouble walking in a straight
 line.

 Another great Canadian meteorlogical legend that never gets mentioned
 is the infamous marijuana igloo at one of the Arctic stations. For
 some reason the Canuks stuck most of their Upper Air Stations in
 the far north where life was rather lonely. Some old hippy who had
 somehow wandered into the service, began growing some Wacky Tobaccy
 to kind of spice up his life. Others heard of it and before long
 he was pimp'n weed to half the stations up there. Shhh. It's a big
 secret. Well it used to be anyways. All those Dudes are long retired.
 Rumor had the RCMP detachments were amongst his most exhuberant
 customers.

 Locking onto the radio signal from the little instrument package
 wasn't easy either. The whole process was manual in those days.
 Running breathlessly into the shack after having released your
 baloon, you were faced with a simple signal-strength meter that
 was flanked to either side by a couple toggle switches. You could
 not see the antenna dish at all. Using the toggle switches, you
 had to quickly sweep back and forth feverishly yelling, "Come on 
 bitch! I know you're out there somewhere!" while watching the meter 
 to see when you were locked. The longer you took doing this, the 
 more difficult it became to successfully lock on and the more
 intense the cursing became. Once you locked on, the controller 
 took over and it was somebody elses fault if things didn't work.
 Your ass was covered.

 A lesser problem was getting confirmation on the teletype. With
 everybody hitting it at the same time, traffic was close to
 gridlock and it could be quite a while before you learned whether
 or not they got yours. If they didn't, you had to repeat, and
 repeat, and repeat until you got a confirmation. 
 
 As you may imagine, doing this sort of thing in a tiny shack set 
 up on the wind-swept deck of a ship heaving in heavy seas in the 
 middle of the Gulf of Alaska added an extra element of intrigue to
 the equation. It was a real bitch getting that damn baloon out of
 the shack intact the first few times around. The cross-winds kept
 bashing it against the side popping it. And once out, I had to
 release as quickly as possible or the winds would wang the baloon
 against the deck. I was a major source of entertainment on that
 ship for the first week. Everybody grabbed their Sweet & Bitter
 to watch the rookie. Ha! Ha1 Ha! They really split a gut. It 
 took a while but I eventually learned the fine art of ship-borne 
 release. Ain't no science to it at all.

 Ship life itself is pretty unique. The food is great and there is
 always lots of it. And it's 24-hour service. But thanks to the
 sea condition, my stomach was usually doing as much heaving as the 
 ship was. I especially found it frustrating that I couldn't go for 
 a walk as I usually do on land. That boat is your entire world for
 the time you are on board. It's a little claustrophobic at first
 until you learn to shrink your world. But worst of all was sleeping. 
 It was often like being inside of a rolling barrel - fasten your 
 seat belt! Wedging myself in between a fat sea-bag and the wall
 seemed to work best. But the difference was marginal.

 It was nothing I was likely to volunteer for again but it was a
 great experience to have done once. And we sure could use a 
 Station Papa again to sharpen up our weather reports. Weather
 satellites just don't hack it.
 
.........................................................................

 The only case in which the Executive can enter on a war, undeclared
 by Congress, is when a state of war has 'been actually' produced by
 the conduct of another power, and when it ought to be known as soon
 as possible to the Department charged with the war power.

                          - James Madison -
                    corresponding with James Monroe
...........................................................................

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

 For the first time in our entire history we are about to wage war
 against a nation that has neither attacked nor even threatened to
 attack us. We've never done this before.

 You remember that Monty Python skit of the Village Idiots Race? Drooling
 twits aimlessly wandering around, tripping over their shoelaces and
 whacking into one another, falling and unable to get back on their feet?
 That's the November election in a nutshell. Battle of the Village Idiots.
 They're having trouble just getting them all to line up at the starting
 line. Canidates are quitting in mid-campaign like crazy. Democrats are
 running as Republicans. Ralph's writing another book. Even Senator
 "Boorin Orrin" Hatch found somebody to record his brain farts into a
 book. It's a mad, mad, mad world. They better get a move on - only a
 couple weeks left. 

 The timing for the Electoral Invasion of Iraq is easy to figure out. 
 With the November elections delicately balanced on whether voters think 
 the economy is the big issue (slack goes to the Jackasses) or supporting
 President Yellowbelly (slack goes to the Pachyderms) it shouldn't be
 too hard to figure out how it will play out. If nothing can be worked
 out with the U.N. by then, Yeller can simply go to his mass-murdering
 War Criminal buddy in Tel Aviv for his "Israeli Option". A faked attack
 would be all the excuse we need for unilateral action. A few U.N. arms
 inspectors get hurt, well, tough luck. Let the traitors and the weak
 kneed whine and cry all they like.

 China knows what the current Dog & Pony Show about North Korea is 
 all about - them. They are on Yeller's 'regime change' short list. 
 They aren't about to allow North Korea to become a staging area 
 for an invasion. Even as the distribution rights to "Desert Storm: 
 The Next Generation" are under neogiation, "Korean War - Take Two" 
 has gone into production. As much as the South Koreans would love 
 a unified Korea, they most definitely do not want it at the price 
 of U.S. hegemony. And there's always the chance China may make a 
 game of it by invading Taiwan while we're busy in Iraq.

                                -

 The new American Reality hasn't quite sunk in yet. 

 (1) Our democratic system of government has largely been trashed.
     Our politicians no longer belong to us, they belong to large
     corporations. That's where they get their campaign money from.
     That's who they listen to. As we saw recently when Congress
     once again surrendered its war powers to the White House, they
     simply stuck their fingers in their ears and ignored all dissent. 
     Petitions and marches mean less than nothing to them. They are
     confident their corporate friends will reward their loyalty by 
     buying them the next election. And the major Parties deliberately
     sabotage the democratic process by either running uncompetitive
     canidates or fronting 'unopposed' canidates. 

 (2) With the Supreme Court reduced to an Executive rubber-stamp
     and Congress abrogating most of its responsibilities to the
     President, our traditional Executive/Legislative/Judicial 
     governmental structure has been reduced to simply the Executive
     branch running everything - the Imperial Presidency. All the 
     checks and balances inherent in the old structure have been
     removed. There is no effective opposition, loyal or otherwise.
     Represenative government is gone and an unelected President 
     sits in the White House. 

 (3) Our Media is no longer independant nor does it reflect our 
     diversity of opinion. It is owned by a handful of rich and
     powerful men with highly homogenized and pasteurized opinions
     supportive of their conservative personal philosophy and 
     belief in their natural supreriority. They are amongst those 
     who own our politicians. They will not permit open dissent. 
     When they do mention it, it is invariably either to belittle 
     it, deprecate it or condemn it. They find it unreasonable 
     and suspiciously unpatriotic for people to disagree with them.

 (4) Civil liberties and the rule of Common Law have largely been
     suspended in this country. The kind of illegal harassment the
     government engaged in in the 60's is now officially legal. Free
     Speech and the Right to Assembly are openly suppressed. People
     are summarily imprisioned without charge or recourse to legal
     defense merely for their opinions, race or religious creed. 
     Secret military courts now exist to prosecute anyone the 
     government considers a threat to itself, in whatever sense
     it cares to define 'threat'.

 I ain't making any of this up nor am I exaggerating the situation.
 It is comparable to Germany in the mid-30's when Hitler turfed 
 their democracy and monarchy, declaring himself Supreme Leader
 for life while ushering in a new 1,000 year Third Reich. Germans 
 welcomed his 'take charge' attitude. He had afterall rescued them 
 from the universal unemployment, hyperinflation and near starvation 
 that followed their defeat in WW-I. Didn't bother them at all when
 he went after trouble-makers like the Jews, Gypsies, labor unions
 and socialists. The bastards had it come'n to them.

 Americans so far haven't exactly welcomed this change but neither
 have we objected to it to any great degree either. The Constitution
 and Bill of Rights afterall, don't put gas in your SUV nor do they
 pay your mortgage. Many perceive them as little more than 'legal
 tricks' used by racial minorities and Bad Guys to weasel undeserved
 benefits from the System or escape due process of law. Good People
 who keep their noses clean, mind their own business and go to work
 everyday don't need 'legal tricks' to get by. Few Americans have
 ever even read either document. There is virtually no insight at all 
 into the crucial role both played in the formation and development 
 of our nation. They don't teach that in school any more.

 A peace-movement of sorts to counter various impending invasions 
 has assembled itself on remarkably short notice. It's mostly made 
 up of polite old petition-signing, mass-marching Sandalistas of 
 days of yor. Congress ignores them as does the President. The 
 police routinely beat and gas them with impunity. Their activities
 are either outrightly ignored by our News Nazis or held up as an
 example of what will happen to 'you' if you step outta line. 

 When we go to a universal military draft (a bill was recently 
 introduced in Congress to reactive it) and taxes kick in to pay 
 for the bloated new security bureaucracies and military adventures, 
 the base of this peace movement should expand and it likely will 
 become more aggressive and effective. 

 Or maybe not. It did't happen in Germany. Hitler formed civilian
 paramilitary groups that effectively kicked the snot out of all
 dissidents. A formal attempt by our government recently to form 
 similar paramilitaries here got into trouble but it doesn't prevent 
 them from being formed covertly as was done during the Vietnam War 
 days. In a pinch, the Cops can go plainsclothes and pretend to be 
 civilians. That was common practice in those days. Our courts and 
 judges were exuberant supporters of such illegal activities. 

 Generally though it's still too early to know how things will play
 out here. Most Americans still want to pretend it's the Good Old
 Days. They find this new reality too distasteful to voluntarily
 deal with and, since it hasn't yet intruded itself into their lives
 in the form of their kids marching off to foreign wars or bloated
 new taxes, they are in no hurry to do so.  There's kind of a 'wait
 and see' state of suspended animation right now. Maybe it will all
 go away. Besides, neither Congress nor the President has asked
 them for their opinion. It's not like they have any say in anything
 any more. That makes it easy to just change the channel and go
 watch the football game instead.
 
............................................................................

                        -  MONDO VATICANO -

 "Anti-Catholic! Anti-Catholic!" is the new battlecry. 

 The old Curia Queens took it up against the Russians this week. The
 Franciscans rented an apartment building in Moscow to a pleasant young
 man who assured them he would use it for 'compassionate works'. I 
 suppose a Whore House fits that description. The old floozies in Roma 
 went nuts. Scandal! Desecration! You would have thought, and indeed 
 some news sources reported, that a church had been turned into a Cat
 House. Nope. Just an apartment building. One in which most assuredly, 
 people had engaged in a great deal of kinky/straight/Gay/legal/illegal
 sex before. And it was the Franciscans who owned the place afterall. 
 They are no strangers to this sort of business. They ran that nice 
 money-laundering scam for the Nazis during WW-II and were so helpful 
 at transferring Gestapo officers to South America, via the "Monastery
 Trail", after the war. The Vatican has never condemned that stuff. It
 brought in a few bucks.

 The Rooskies got a big kick out of it at any rate. As did many others. 
 It is quite possibly the first time anyone has had a genuinely religious 
 experience on Church property in many centuries.

                                 +

 The new Buzz Word was also slung against the new reform group Voice 
 of the Faithful. The usual crew of self-appointed sacred technicians
 and engineers, offended that there were Catholics practicing The One 
 True Faith without their explicit permission, accused VOF of operating
 without a permit and therefore ipso fatso: as anti-Catholic as any
 Methodist or Jew or atheist. VOF didn't bother answering the charge. 

 Why not go after the Vatican. It's the most anti-Catholic organization
 in the world. About time somebody fingered those clowns.

 I suspect we'll be hearing this new battlecry more often in future. 
 It appeals to the patriotic pretentions of the war-mongering 
 political conservatives amongst the American bretheran. Not 
 that they have the vaguest clue of what Catholicsm is all about.
 Next thing you know they'll be waving the Vatican flag around 
 at parish bingo parlors. Does Vatican State have a national 
 anthem? "Where The Boys Are" perhaps.

                                 +

 A former Catholic school alumni shared with the court his memories of
 St. Paul's in South Seattle this week. In particular of those times
 when Fr. Pat O'Donnell pulled him out of his 8-th grade class and
 brought him down to a quiet basement room. Saying he was conducting
 scientific research for his Psych class at U Dub, Fr. Pat sat him
 down facing the windows then assumed a seat directly behind him so
 be faced the child's back. For the next 15 minutes the good Father
 asked this young man to picture himself naked, touching himself and
 others. At one point the kid glanced back. Fr. Pat had his legs 
 spread wide apart and had his hand down his pants Jerking himself 
 off. You can see where a scene like that would stick in your mind
 for a long, long time. Time for Bishop Al to reach deeply into his
 Magic Honey Pot once again. Meanwhile, Fr. Pat ain't a priest any
 more. Now he's a psychotherapist working with kids. The Church or
 the State of Washington - bureaucracies are made for feeding kids 
 to ol Fr. Pat and keep him stroking his Wicked Weasel.

                                +

 The drooling old Pollock, Future-Super-Saint JP-2, delivered his
 verdict to the American bishops on their new Pervert Priest policy.
 It was a non-decision: Screw the victims. Go work on it some more. 
 Some leader this clown is eh! 

 Since the policy is completely voluntary to begin with and no 
 bishop is required to follow it; since compliance has been very 
 spotty at best; and since the religious orders, who account for 
 one third of the priests in America, formally stated that they
 intend to ignore it; it's not much of a story to begin with. The
 courts and cops seem to be handling things quite well without the
 Vatican's help. And the Media hasn't shirked its reponsibility
 to report the sexual eccentricities of our bishops and priests.
 Since JP-2 and the Curia Queens can't lead and won't follow, 
 it's best they just stay the hell outta the way.

 I hope Brooklyn bishop Tom Daily got lots of money off mobster 
 John Gotti's family for burying the "Dapper Don"s dead ass in 
 the diocese's Catholic cemetery. He's going to need all the 
 Dough he can get his hands on. He just got slapped with a $300
 MegaBuck lawsuit by 42 people who claimed he hid and protected
 a number of pervert priests who groped, raped and abused them 
 as children. Say it ain't so Fadder!

                               +

 That Fr. Tony Nugent at South Chicago's Immaculate Heart is one
 kinky little camper. During a recent retreat he forced a couple 
 of the boys put on pantyhose over their clothes then took pictures
 of them. Why? He says it was supposed to be an 'icebreaker'. He
 didn't say who for. The kids dad went ballistic when he found out 
 what Fr. Tony was up to and demanded an explanation. Fr. Tony blew 
 him off and told him it was none of his business. Whoops! Pops was 
 ready to run over there and punch out Fr. Tony's clock. Liking his 
 nose right where it is, Fr. Tony decided to kick the kids out of 
 his kinky little retreat rather than face 'ol Dad. The police are
 investigating. Since Cardinal George of Chicago has ignored the 
 Dallas Protocols and has been actively obstructing various police
 investigations into his priests activities, it should be quite a 
 fight. Meanwhile, Fr. Tony has a couple spare pair of pantyhose 
 if you're interested in breaking a little ice with him. Bring
 your own camera.

                                  +

 With various Cardinals being deposed before local DA's, thousands
 of priests turfed for raping and abusing the children in their
 spiritual care, millions starving to death and the world verging 
 on open warfare, JP-2 shuffled his walker out into the Vatican 
 Ballroom to make an important announcement - he was adding new 
 mysteries to the rosary. Whoa! Dude! What planet you from?

----------------------------------------------------
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 it into Lutefisk.
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