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

                             - 175 -

 Looks like the salmon's annual Life & Death Pow Wow is over for
 another year. They put out the fixings to clear the pool and began
 to drain it earlier this week by cutting off the make-up tap. It
 slowly empties that way. In the spring they leave it half-full
 for a few weeks before completely pulling the plug. There are still 
 a few Party Goers in there. Not everybody shows up on time eh. So 
 it's out with the old and in with the new. A new generation is 
 a-brew'n and will be making their debut in a few months.

 EMPTY DAWG DISH...

 Seattle's largest goldfish bowl just got emptied. U Dub's Drumheller
 Fountain, which used to sport a large assortment of goldfish dumped
 in by departing students, is empty and all fenced in. Judging from the
 size of those fish, it's been a while since this has been done. They
 were really BIG. Obviously they were finding plenty to eat and seemed
 quite content in their oversized bowl. I wonder what they did with them?
 I've only seen the fountain in all it's splendor once or twice in the
 past couple years. My guess is it has been the victim of a
 drought/budget-shortfall symbolic shutdown. Anything to screw us out 
 of life's simple pleasures. Many people used to like having their
 pictures taken in front of it with Mt. Rainier in the background. The 
 two are perfectly aligned for such a thing. It's nicer when the
 construction crane at U Dub Med Center's new butcher shop isn't in the
 picture. Heaven only knows what they plan to do with the fountain. There
 was nothing in the capital works projects list so I guess it may be just
 routine maintenance. Don't expect them to be putting up signs. That'd
 cut into their quality coffee-break time.

 IT'S THE DEFICIT STUPID...

 Gosh. It seems like only a couple years ago we had blazing headlines
 about our massive State budget surplus. And here it is only a few
 months later and *POOF*, the surplus (and then some) is gone. Like
 they always say at the State House in Olympia: "Easy come - Easy Go".
 The Little Stinker - our gubnatorial dwarf - plus our State Reps and
 Senators done blew the whole wad on...on...who knows what. We got
 nothing to show for it. They just pissed it down the drain. I guess
 that means it's time to pig-out on the taxpayers again eh.

 Unreasonably enough, now that we're broke, our State's Institutional
 Welfare Queens want a raise. We got KingCo Sheriff Davey Do-Right
 whinning about not having enough deputies, implying that if he don't
 get them, don't bother calling him for help. Him and his Boyz will be
 down at the 'ol Krispie Kreme resting up and drowning their sorrows.
 Somehow he neglected to even mention this evolving manpower shortage
 during his last re-election effort. People might have misinterpreted
 it as meaning that he can't even budget manpower hours let alone
 money.

 The State's institutes of Higher Learning - Dub/Wazoo/WooWoo/etc - all
 are demanding more money...or. Or what? Apparently they haven't bothered
 making any effort to batten down the financial hatches. At least there's
 little evidence of such of an effort. The hiring freeze hardly counts.
 They just hire Temps to fill in.  With all those influential alums
 spread everywhere from the Governor's Mansion to the State House ready
 to volunteer the taxpayers on behalf of their alma mater, the schools
 likely figure - why bother with any belt-tighting? Just trust them.
 They're experts. They say they need the Dough. So cough it up.

 STYLE'N AND PROFILE'N...

 The DC Sniper caper proved one thing in spades: profiling is pure BS.
 All the goofballs the TV networks hauled out of the Consultancy Looney
 Bin to profile who the sniper might be, were dead wrong. Worse, they
 may very well have misled both the public and the police into looking
 for totally inappropriate suspects, extending the search and costing
 a few more lives. Not that they're concerned mind you. Nobody was
 shooting at them - ergo - not their personal problem. Go ahead and 
 tell me how a dumbass cop with, at best, a two-year associates degree
 from some stink'n little community college, will do any better than 
 the experts. It ain't gonna happen.

 The thought extends to President Yellowbelly's TWAT. Not everybody who
 is against Uncle Sammy is an Evil Mooslem Infidel. There are a lot of
 people in this world who've got just cause to hate our guts. We've
 ripped off and hurt millions of people around the world in our time.
 And not even all of them are foreigners. There are a lot of Americans
 who have a deep and abiding distrust if not hatred of Sammy's corporate
 whores and perverts in DC. Many of these people not only have white 
 skin, they aren't even vaguely religious. All would easily fall 
 outside of TWAT's profiling. Imagining they will be constrained by 
 some sort of racial loyalty is way crazy. Tim McVeigh sure wasn't.

 KILLER ZOMBIES...

 Speaking of misguided profiling...how about that kid who confessed over
 the Internet to killing a cop last week as a protest against police
 brutality and corporate Amerika's greed? Neither an A-rab nor a Mooslem,
 nor even any of the many minorities our cops love to take out their
 bigoted thuggery on, he was instead a nice white kid from Olympia. And
 a military vet to boot. A former member of the elite Army Ranger Airborne
 and graduate of their Jungle Ops School!

 HEY! WAIT A MINUTE! Another killer Army vet? An Army Airborne/Ranger
 enviro-anarcho Bunny Hugger and hater of Corporate Amerika? Whoa! There
 can't be many of those around. That's like a Gay guy with a history of
 sexually assaulting women. It doesn't make a lot of sense. Those Rangers
 would sooner shoot a bunny's head off and eat it raw than hug it. And
 they're HOO-RAH GUNG-HO for Corporate Amerika. Then he ups and blows 
 away a cop without provocation whilst babbling some weird shit about
 having corporate immunity. Wah!? At least it explains why the cops 
 didn't try forcing him to put on prison orange. He would have handed 
 all of them their asses. One improbability piled atop another. But the 
 associations are obvious enough: environmentalist/anarchist/cop-killer.
 Got the message?

 Most seemed to get the message loud and clear. Our News Nazis
 didn't even mention his military background. And of the hundreds of
 people who responded to his confessional posting on the Frisco
 IndyMedia website, only two or three even noticed his mention of it.
 Most of the rest were ranting and raving about stringing up him and
 his like. What was it P.T. Barnum said? A sucker's born every minute.

 First we got a retired black Army lifer with a nice Muslim-sounding
 first name popping up in the crucial final days of Election 2002 and
 starts indiscriminately killing people, bumping everything else off
 our News Nazis front-pages and airwaves while drawing a personal
 rebuke from President Yellowbelly like the guy was Saddam or something.
 Now an Army-Ranger/Bunny-Hugger/Environmentalist/Anarchist. How many
 more of these "Ft. Benning Specials" does the Army have running around?

 I wonder how the cops feel about the Pentagon volunteering them for
 target-practice duty? It'd piss me off.

 ADMIRAL POINTYHEAD...

 Admiral Poindexter of Iran-Contra-Scandal fame is back. Caught scrubbing
 incriminating emails off the the White House servers back in his Ollie
 North days (a consciencous sysop fortunately had it all backed up),
 Admiral Pointyhead is now in charge of following the electronic trail
 of terrorists. I guess the miitary figgered: it takes one to know one.

 I once had a top-security briefing from the Admiral. This ain't no shit.
 It was immediately after the famous Reagan-Gorbachev Summit in Iceland
 back in the late 80's, near the end of the Soviet Era. He was on board
 Air Force One with the Presidential entourage returning to DC and phoned
 ahead to one his National Security Council collegues to fill him in on
 how things went. The conversation was conducted through the Military
 Airlift Command's "Triple One Upper" HF frequency of 11.175 MHz.

 When White House aides do something like this, they normally have enough
 brains to switch on the voice encryption device first. Admiral Pointyhead
 didn't. For close to an hour he babbled away with a highly-detailed and
 very fascinating briefing on the entire Summit meeting. Eveyone and his
 dog could hear what was he was saying. I taped most of it. I think what
 amazed me most was that of the hundreds of loyal military pilots and
 controllers who also had to be listening at that time, not a single one
 interrupted his spiel to inform him of his boo-boo. They must have been
 as fascinated as I was.

 Aside from providing a unique peek inside the shadowy world of diplomacy,
 I also learned that they feed us Little People nothing but bullshit.
 That evening as I was watching the news on TV, lo and behold, who pops
 up with a statement? Yep - the Admiral. I copped to that distinctive
 name right away. IT'S THE IDIOT! During his briefing he gushed profusely
 and happily about how they really stuck it to the Rooskies. During the
 public statement on landing he was wearing his best hang-dog expression
 while moaning about how poorly things had gone. I about split a gut.
 What a bunch of phony bastards.

 Needless to say, if it had been a lowly Encryption Tech who had made the
 Admiral's mistake he would have been greeting people out front of his
 neighborhood Walmart the next week. But the rules are a little different
 for Admirals. Even the retarded ones.

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

                   MOTOWN MEMORIES - TAKE TWO

 Sports was always a big thing in Detroit. My mother remembers being
 brought along by my grandfather to a couple of Joe Louis' fights. Ma
 was a real boxing fan in her girlhood days. She was also terrified
 of black people after being caught in some sort of impromtu race riot
 downtown once upon a time. But that didn't affect her admiration for
 Joe. He was her hero. "Knock 'em on his butt Joe!" she'd scream while
 Gramps chewed on his cigar and sweated out his $10 bet.

 In the early 60's the big teams in Detroit were the baseball Tigers
 and football Lions. Both played at venerable old Briggs Stadium (later
 renamed Tiger Stadium) on the edge of the downtown core. Not a city
 known for its parks, Detroit was all business - a sterile urban jungle
 of cement and asphalt. It was so nice on a blistering hot summer's day
 to step inside Briggs Stadium and suddenly find yourself in a cool,
 green park with a lovely manicured grass lawn. The high walls blocked
 out all but the peaks of the tallest buildings and completely blocked
 out the city's noise. It was worth the price of admission just for the
 atmosphere. Throw in visitors like Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Harmon
 Killibrew and the like - you had a cozy deal indeed.

 This was a time when you could stand outside the club-house door as
 your heroes came and went - Al Kaline, "Storm'n" Norm Cash, Dick
 McAuliffe, Willy Horton, Bill Freehan, Charlie "Paw Paw" Maxwell,
 etc. Players often chatted it up with fans and happily passed out
 their autographs. It was a nice, friendly, civilized atmosphere.
 The players looked like normal guys who could have lived down the
 block from you. There was lots of mutual respect and admiration.
 The exact opposite of today when it's often impossible to determine
 which is the most obnoxious greed-head: the players or the fans.

 The hockey Red Wings were a distant third is the sports pantheon.
 The only time it was hard to get tickets to their games were when
 the Toronto Maple Leafs or Montreal Canadiens were visiting. Then
 the Canucks on the Windsor side of the river came pouring over in
 droves. It was also the only time the concessions sold Canadian
 beer.

 Thanks to an uncle who worked for a big advertising company, I
 became a real hockey fanatic. His company was always given free
 tickets and he was about the only one around interested enough
 to snatch them up. Having nothing but daughters, he was delighted
 to learn he had a nephew who enjoyed hockey too. We were hockey
 buddies.

 The Wings played at the Olympia about a mile north of the downtown
 core on Grand River. They were owned by Chicago Robber-Baron Mr.
 Norris whose grain-elevators dotted our prairies. He also owned the
 Chicago Black Hawks. In a daring move for the times, he put his
 daughter in charge of the Wings. Within two years she coughed up
 a Stanley Cup. Her brother Bruce, a whiny loud-mouth drunk who was
 a boxing entrepeneur and normally had little interest in hockey,
 got jealous. He leaned on the Old Man and whined and cried until he
 was given the Wings. Despite having a Hall of Fame lineup, they
 never won another Stanley Cup until long after Bruce the Luser Lush
 was dead and buried. I used to see him around the Olympia a lot.
 Never sober - always half-cut. And a real prick to boot. His Old
 Man was probably happy just to get the jerk outta his face in
 Chicago.

 My Old Man took me to my very first game. It was the one and only
 time in my life that he did such a thing. He wasn't into sports
 very much. Though I was just a little kid in first or second grade
 at the time, I still remember every freak'n detail of that game
 right down to where he parked his car. It made a big impression on
 me. It was the days before plexiglas, when they still had chain-link
 fencing around the board tops so fans didn't get cold-cocked by
 stray pucks. That big scoreboard with all its blinking lights
 really got my attention. We had balcony seats and I remember how
 the angle seemed so steep I was absolutely terrified that I would
 trip and go rolling down the aisle, right over the edge of the
 balcony and plop to my death on the ice below. I was even too scared
 to stand up and cheer. What do you expect from a little kid who
 ain't never seen a place like that before? They played the Chicago
 Black Hawks in that game. They still had that little circle with
 the black profile of an indian head in the middle of it for an
 emblem. I remember one of the Hawks had a wig which he kept on with
 a rubber band. It looked both incredibly funny and very painful at
 once. I had never been exposed to self-induced sado-mascicism
 before. I didn't know how to handle it. I ended up laughing.

 In later years, thanks to that uncle, the Wings were my Main Thing.
 I went to tons of games. Better yet, I had a buddy who was something
 of a rink rat. He used to run around the ice during practices picking
 up the pucks and other Joe jobs. The players nicknamed him "Scoop" on
 account of he was always running to the pay phones to call Detroit
 sports writer with whatever juicy rumors he happened to overhear in
 the dressing room. For one reason or another we hit it off and he
 talked them into letting me help him out. Training camp was our busy
 time. The Wings brought all their farm teams to Detroit for it and
 they took turns hitting the ice. We had LOTS of pucks to chase after.
 Guys like Gordie Howe, Alex Delvecchio, Marcel Pronovost and Terry
 Sawchuck used to goof around with us all the time. Those guys were
 my heroes. I thought I died and went to heaven.

 I'll never forget goalie Terry Sawchuck's face. Man, he looked like
 a burn victim. His face was a mess of scars. It was common during
 games of that time to have unscheduled half-hour breaks while the
 trainer stitched up a goalie who got another puck in the face. Even
 guys like Gordie had a mess of scars too. I remember seeing a picture
 once in which they drew in all the stitches he had had and you could
 barely see his face. None of those guys had any teeth left. And
 nobody but a sissy would wear a helmet. It was a tough game eh.

 Once they even snuck me and Scoop on the Pittsburg Hornets team bus
 during training camp for an exhibition game across the Detroit River
 in Windsor. A kid from Edmonton was late getting into training camp
 so they told Customs I was him. Wow! Never in my life did I imagine
 anybody would ever mistake me for a pro hockey player but here I was
 an illegitimate member of the Pittsburg Hornets. The border guards
 just took their word for it and never did check my ID fortunately.
 A coule days later they got word that my name-sake had died in a car
 crash driving across Canada to Detroit. That's why he was late.

 I didn't play of course. I just helped out in the dressing room. Boy
 those guys were prudes! I accidently left the hall door open once
 while dragging in some equipment bags. Everybody was standing there
 in their jock straps (or less) and began yelling at me, "Shut the
 goddam door!" while throwing gloves and rolls of tape at me. Yipes!
 They were afraid some passing Babes might see them au naturel. Real
 bunch of studs eh. Man did that place ever stink after a game. Honest
 to heavens - the paint was peeling off the walls.

 I ended up filling in for one of the goal judges in that game. He got
 totally plowed-under on beer during the second intermission and was
 unable to complete his duties. "Hey kid! Wanna be a goal judge?". I
 don't know which I was more afraid of: saying no and missing the
 chance or taking the chance and screwing up. I was very nervous at
 first. Everytime somebody wound up for a shot I hit that button. The
 ref was going nuts and the goalie was getting sunburn from my red
 lights. Sheesh! You can't see bugger all with all those people in the
 way. And you certainly can't just watch the game like everybody else
 does. You have to remain firmly focused on the goal crease. I was
 beginning to think they might all come over the glass after me. A 
 hockey first: a goal judge getting the snot beat out of him by a 
 referee, two linesmen and a goalie. I eventually calmed down. What 
 the hey - it was only an exhibition game. Needless to say, that was
 the end of my minor-officiating career.

 Just as with ballplayers at Briggs Stadium, you could stand outside the
 dressing room doors at the Olympia and greet your heoes as they came
 and went from work. But the atmosphere was a little different in hockey.
 I can remember many times seeing wild, brawls, like something out of one
 of those old western movies, break out in the hall outside the visitors
 dressing-room. They'd all file out to get on their team bus and some
 drunk in the crowd would do or say something stupid. The cops and ushers
 would wade into the mess hauling away bloody players and fans sending
 them off to the bus, the hospital or the Hoosegow as the case may be.
 Never insult a hockey players's mother. They're very sensitive about
 things like that.

 I recall once lucking into a seat only a few rows behind the visiting
 New York Rangers bench. I began doing my usual balcony thing of trash
 talking them to beat the band. It never occurred to me that up in the
 balcony they can't hear you. Down here they can. The coach and players
 kept looking back at me like they were thinking of wandering back to
 shut me up. I was amazed. I thought they'd just ignore me like everybody
 else did. Nope. I really threw them off their game that night and led
 the Wings to a victory. Trash talking was considered very rude and
 impolite in those days. Nice people didn't do things like that. Most
 of the people around me seemed embarassed by my presence. Screw 'em
 We won! If you could half the stuff the players say to each other...

 I really liked hockey players. They were almost all Farm Boys in the
 Big Smoke for the first time in their lives. Real babes in the woods.
 About as down-to-earth as people get. They worked hard and played hard.
 This was the top of the heap and they couldn't believe their luck at
 being there. By rights they ought to be shoveling cow pies on the
 frozen prairies in Moose Spit, Saskatchewan or whatever. They gave 'er
 tarpaper hoping for the best. Some who deserved to make it, didn't.
 Other made it for all the wrong reasons - Goons. Most ended up eternally
 looping through minor league teams like the Seattle Totems and Fort
 Wayne Komets. As tough as it was, it still beat the hell out of working
 on the farm. And back home you were always good for a free beer at the
 town beer parlour.

 As much fun as it was hanging around the Wings, my sweetest hockey
 memories were personal ones. Detroit had no other artificial ice rinks
 but the Olympia. And there were no kids teams at all. Nada. Nothing.
 Living in the suburbs, a bunch of us kids who were into the hockey
 thing found an artificial lake in a nearby gravel pit that froze over
 in winter. We'd shovel it off, strap on some old newspapers for shin
 guards and have at 'er. NO LIFTING THE PUCK! That was our only rule.
 Aside from the safety considerations, it was a major pain in the ass
 trying to find our one and only puck in a snow bank afterwards. "I'm
 Normie Ullman", I'd shout as I ripped down the left wing. "I'm Marcel
 Pronovost", another guy would yell as he hooked my skates out from under
 me. Whoever got tired played goal. There were no adults involved. We
 did it all on our own. Despite all our goofing around, nobody ever got
 seriously hurt. Though we were VERY proud of any new scratches or dents
 we acquired. We imagined it made us look more manly.

 On Friday nights around midnight, the town barber and a few other guys
 would pile into their cars and head across the Detroit River to Windsor.
 We rented ice-time at Windsor Arena - at 2 a.m. Saturday mornings. The
 Canadian border guards thought this was perfectly normal. The U.S. guards
 thought we were nuts. You'd think the rink would be empty at 2 a.m. on
 a Saturday morning eh. Unh unh. Wherever there's a hockey rink in Canada
 you got rink rats. There were always some local kids with their girlies
 along. "Mind if we skate wit youse guys?", they'd ask. Geez! Those guys
 knew how to skate around corners and other fancy stuff we didn't have a
 clue about. Their shots were like bullets. We played pick-up games with
 them. Just to keep it from becoming a complete joke, the Canuk kids were
 split between the two sides. I learned more hockey from them than from
 anywhere else.

 The NBA Pistons were at the bottom of Detroit's sports hierarchy back
 then. They played at at little court in Cobo Hall. I think my high
 school's basketball court was bigger. And they didn't draw much of a
 crowd. Me and Scoop used to go to the occasional game and flash hockey
 scores to the announcer as we listened to the game on the radio. The
 biggest B-ball teams then were the college teams. The NBA wasn't squat.
 Pretty remarkable when you think about who passed through: Wilt "The
 Stilt" Chamberlain, Bob Cousy, etc.

 Ah the Good Old Days eh. It's almost enough to make a bloke feel sorry
 for the modern fan restricted as they are to just adoring the players
 and dishing out their bucks. Screw it. I can't be bothered with pro
 sports any more.

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

 "I just want you to know I have the bondholders interest at heart."

                     - Lance K. Poulson -
                        Founder & CEO
                       National Century
            the day before he left his bondholders high
            dry by declaring bankrupcy and going into
                            hiding
.........................................................................

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

 Displaying an amazingly sophisticated sense of irony, Yellowbelly
 named America's most prominent War Criminal, Henry Kissinger, to
 head up the 9/11 Inquiry. Everytime I hear Hank's name I think of
 that Monty Python song about him:

               Henry Kissinger
               how I'm missing you
               you're so chubby and so neat.
               With your funny nose
               and your squishy clothes
               you're like a German par-o-keet.
               Alright, so people say that
               you don't care
               but you've got nicer legs than Hitler
               and bigger tits than Cher.
               Henry Kissinger
               how I'm miss'n yer
               and wish'n you were here.

 Perhaps we'll see a rival of this great ditty now that Kissy Face is
 back in the news.

 Ain't that amazing? Everyone has always predicted that it would take
 some brilliant but Evil, fiendishly clever, genius-gone-mad to schnooker
 Americans out of the freedoms and liberties embodied in the Constitution
 and Bill of Rights. In the end, all it took was the retarded son of a
 rich man. A monkey boy. A coward and a drunk with the morals of an
 inebriated chimpanzee.

 Mighty America! Land of the Free and Home of the Brave! Leader of the
 Free World! Bringer to mankind of Democracy and rule of/by/for the
 People. The richest nation in the world. Owner of the mightest military
 juggernaut in human history. Nobody's Fool. We turned out to be the
 biggest Sucker on the block. All it took was a semi-literate, pea-brained,
 inarticulate ex-Frat Boy. The Germans had to be economically beaten to
 a pulp and dying of starvation in the streets before they surrendered
 their freedoms to a Supreme Ruler. The Czechs and Hungarians had to be
 invaded by the Nazis and Rooskies before they gave up theirs. Not us.
 We just handed ours over without a wimper or a fight to some jackass
 who couldn't even win an election.

 It was announced this week that the military would be joining the cops
 phony Seat Belt Safety Campaign. We need soldiers to check seat belts?!
 Sure. Why not? It's not like they got anything better to do in the middle
 of our great War on Terrorism. Well what did you expect them to do? Put
 up big signs announcing "Achtung! Halt! Citizne ID Check Roadblock" at
 the entrance ramps to the Interstates? Nah. That'd just make everybody
 nervous. Call it a seat-belt check and get a couple of the local hayseed
 District Gestapo Chiefs to ham it up telling us its for our own safety.
 It accomplishes the same thing while allowing the citizenry the comfort
 of their fantasies. It seems an appropriately American touch. You say
 I'm being cynical and ultra conspiratorial? Ha! Try the asshole who
 dreamt this shit up. He's got me beat by a country mile.

 Now comes word they intend to go ahead with their mass innoculation
 against smallpox. You can't even indiscriminately hand out asprin
 without seriously endangering people's health and lives. But these
 jackasses are going to start sticking people with needles full of an
 experimental drug. I think Uncle Sammy finally stumbled on a sure-fire
 way to get everybody pissed off at him. He just gave them all the
 incentive they need to kick his ass. I knew he'd find a way.

 I'm waiting. I'm waiting to see how long it takes for Americans to
 wake up and realize what has really happened here in the past year.
 I'm waiting to see how long it takes for them to figure out that they
 got schnookered Bigtime. There's been little public recognition of
 our Fascist Coup. Everyone from Al Gore to Ralph Nadar wants to
 pretend that concentration camps, life-imprisonment without charges
 or defense, secret military tribunals and the such are normal. Sorry.
 No matter how much ketchup you put on that shit, it still smells like
 shit and it ain't even vaguely normal. Nor is there anything even
 vaguely like a justification for it.

 I know they'll wake up eventually. But deep, deep down - I don't give
 much of a damn if they do or not. I have two reasons for my ambivalance:

 (1) This little fascist coup is a U.S. Government operation. It's a
 natural fact that EVERYTHING the U.S. government does is a half-assed
 mess. From Social Security to the Post Office to the Department of
 Defense - we're talking the world's most corrupt, incompetent and
 inept bureaucracy. Fat, stupid and sloppy to the max. The ones that
 can't be easily schnookered will happily sell their favors cheaper
 than a Crack 'Ho. We got a multi-trillion Buck security and intelligence
 apparatus that a small group of A-rabs with box cutters effortlessly
 defeated. We got a military that's made up of Fags who were too
 chicken-shit to even get a shot off in our defense when we came under
 attack. Unless you make an appointment with them, they ain't gonna
 catch you let alone stop you. Our politicians are scientifically/
 technologically illiterate dumbasses and perverts who routinely
 auction themselves off to the highest bidder. Wanna judge? Bug one.
 They're cheaper by the dozen. On and on it goes. These people aren't
 going to protect or guard us. They're incapable of it. As 9/11 made
 perfectly clear, few of them give enough of a damn to even try.

 (2) The lamp of freedom and liberty has abandoned America and gone
 elsewhere. We rudely told it to shove off and it did as requested. 
 Its unsteady flicker which occasionally illuminated our actions over 
 the centuries, gave us a dream few nations have ever dared to dream. 
 And indirectly made possible a redistribution of wealth that, while 
 not perfect by a long shot, was closer to perfect than anyone else 
 has ever gotten in human history. Thanks to our example, Kings, Tsars,
 Despots and Generalisimos around the world were run outta town on a
 rail. We inspired revolutions and raised mankind's expectations to
 delightfully unreasonable new highs. Not us really. It was our dream
 what did it. It empowered us. Without it we would have ended up another
 Canada or Australia at best. Our dream of freedom, liberty and
 equality was our Difference.

 Now we have allowed our wealthy and privileged to steal our dream
 away from us. We have allowed them to declare us the enemy of mankind's
 dream of freedom and liberty. They have associated our good name with
 the worst sorts of criminal filth and psychotic perverts in the name
 of political expediency. They intend to steal whole countries and
 bleed them of their wealth, in our name. They intend to turn those
 populations into Meat Machines in service to their wants and needs,
 in our name. Us? We'll be allowed to die for them and pay their bills.
 But they will never again allow us our freedoms and liberties. The
 only way we'll get them back is over their dead bodies. My guess is
 they'd sooner commit nuclear suicide than allow that to happen.

 We have the military capability to occupy or destroy probably 90% of
 the nations of the earth outright. We could steal everything they
 have and there wouldn't be a thing in the world they could do about
 it. The Euros, Chinese and Rooskies would happily stand and watch -
 in exchange for a small piece of the action. They've got nukes or
 other nasties that preclude direct attack. They imagine this gives
 them immunity from our greed. They vastly underestimate our insanity.
 We possess enough nukes to destroy all life on earth not once, not
 twice, but three times over. And we have demonstrated that we are
 not afraid to use our nukes. They've got to know we're a couple cans
 short of a full six-pack and more than capable of nuclear suicide/
 blackmail. Nothing personal. No hard feelings. Just give us what
 we want or we blow everybody to kingdom come. I don't think they've
 got to balls to risk calling our bluff.

 We who led humanity out of the powerless darkness will now lead it
 back into a dark night of the soul. We deserve everything that will
 happen to us from this point on.

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

                 I'm a Roman Catholic
                 and have been since
                 before I was born.
                 And the one thing they say
                 about Catholics
                 is, they'll take you as soon as
                 you're warm.

                 You don't have to be a six-footer,
                 you don't have to have a
                 great brain.
                 You don't have to have any
                 clothes on
                 becaue you're a Catholic
                 the moment Dad came.

                  from: Every Sperm Is Sacred
                         Monty Python
...........................................................................

                       -  MONDO VATICANO -

 The planned December 21st exorcism of the Vatican seems to be gathering
 steam. I've seen a couple mentions of it this week. The Vatican's long
 silence and inactivity in the face of an international deluge of many
 thousands of priestly rape, molestation and sexual humiliation of both
 children and women in recent years is obviously not inspired by the Holy
 Spirit. Neither is its refusal to cooperate with civil authorities to
 bring the guilty to justice. Neither is the rot and financial corruption
 that has become so common throughout the Vatican's bureaucracy. The
 Vatican and its bishops are clearly drawing their inspiration from Satan
 not God. They cut a deal with the Devil.

 You don't have to go to Rome to participate. You can do it from your home
 or even your workplace. Simply recite the following prayer three times
 that day - morning, afternoon and evening.

    I cast you out, every unclean spirit, in the name of God + the
    Father almighty, in the name of Jesus + Christ, his son, our
    Lord and judge, and in the power of the Holy + Spirit. Begone
    Satan, from God's handiwork, the Vatican. We ask this in the name
    of Christ our Lord, who is coming to judge both the living and the
    dead and the world by fire.

    Amen.

    (+ = sign of the cross)

 There will be a sizeable contingent of people in Roma on the 21st
 around the periphery of Vatican City, where a full exocism rite
 will be performed by priests. It is expected this effort will continue
 at least once a month until there is indication it is no longer
 necessary. Additional exorcisms outside the residence of various
 bishops are also being planned.

                                +

 Our Lady of Lourdes School in Brooklyn (NY) is run by the diocese of
 Brooklyn whose bishop recently announced that he is tired and intends
 to retire soon. Between hiding pervert priests and taking a payoff
 from the family of Mafioso John "The Dapper Don" Gotti to bury his
 profane ass in the diocese's cemetery, it's been a tough year for
 the bishop. He's all tuckered out.

 Why not one last log on the fire before he leaves. It was revealed
 this week that one of the teachers at the school was found to have
 TB early in the year. Did they ship him off for medical care and
 notify the parents so they could ensure their kids were checked for
 TB. Heck no! They decided to keep it a SECRET! And Brooklyn health
 authorities aided them in their effort by keeping their mouths shut.
 As a result, a number of the kids now have TB. The parents found out
 about the diocese's little secret TWO MONTHS after the fact when the
 Dept. of Health unexpectedly asked to do a round of skin tests on the
 kids. What kind of madness is this? Our bishops are just completely
 and disgustingly beyond the pale.

                          +

 Bernie "The Pimp" Law, Cardinal of Boston, condescended to met with
 the dissident lay group Voice of the Faithful this week. The arrogant
 son of a bitch actually had the nerve to question their Catholicism!
 This jackass who deliberately hid and enabled men he knew to be
 chiild molesting/raping perverts feels he has some right to stand in
 judgement of others. He's way crazy baby! While its nice that VOF is
 getting this much official recognition of their existence, I expect
 little to come of it. The bishops have no intention to surrender any
 of their absolute power. They'll happily take the Church down with
 them in their efforts to preserve their status-quo. Bernie was just
 following up on a promise he made before the recent elections after
 he became an election issue. It would have looked bad if he stiffed
 them. He looks bad enough as it is.

----------------------------------------------------
 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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