Saturday, March 09, 2002

Uh-oh. My ex-Special Forces buddy RECONDO just sent me a nasty-gram e-mail to inform me that I was in error when I said that the three soldiers killed in Operation Anaconda from Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah were members of the 101st Airborne Rangers.

They belonged to the 1st Ranger Batallion. I regret the mistake.
"SECRET PLAN OUTLINES THE UNTHINKABLE!" So reads the headline over THIS very level-headed piece about U.S. plans to use nuclear weapons against our enemies. The headline doesn't reflect what actually appears below it, but the very word "nuclear" causes some people to lose their minds, flip out and go (for lack of a better word) ballistic, and the headline writer probably was one of those people. We're talking about the L.A. Times, after all.

UNTHINKABLE, indeed. If we weren't busy devising plans for the use of nuclear weapons in certain circumstances, then somebody in charge of national defense is totally asleep at the wheel. We are at war. The war is destined to expand to include countries that possess weapons of mass destruction. They might not all have nukes, but they have nasty biological and chemical arsenals, plus the kind of crackpot leaders who will use them. We should be ready to respond with overwhelming force.

This "secret" report was given to Congress on January 8, 2002 and recently leaked to the press. At first, I thought some mealy-mouthed politician simply couldn't stand it anymore and gave a copy to a reporter just to show how much inside information he possessed, being an important politician and all. But I wonder...

Maybe the Bush administration deliberately leaked the plans so that our enemies clearly understand what they face if they show their asses with another 9/11 type attack. Maybe this is a warning to those who don't believe we are serious about our war on terrorism.
Maybe we simply have a dumb, Texas cowboy as President, with an itchy trigger finger, who can't wait to press the red button and unleash a hail of nuclear-tipped ICBMs raining down on the planet just to prove that HE'S AS CRAZY AS THEY ARE! And he has much bigger bombs, and a lot more of them, and he's dying to use them. So, for the sake of Allah, DON'T FUCK WITH HIM! That nutball will DO IT!

Either way, I believe it's a good message to send.

Some people don't, however. Joseph Cirincione, a nuclear arms "expert" at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, declared that, "This is dynamite." (No, it's NUCLEAR!) "I can imagine what these countries are going to be saying at the U.N." (Oh, they'll caterwall at the U.N. But at home, in the palace of the Maximum Leader, they'll be saying "Oh, SHIT.") In commenting on the plan, a lot of people managed to work "Strangelove" into their observations, and a lot of people probably will sleep under their beds tonight, quivering with fear. I hope some of them are in positions of power in Iran, Iraq, North Korea, Syria, Libya, China and Russia.

Friday, March 08, 2002

YADA,YADA,YADA. Now that the country is steaming out of a brief recession under its own power, Congress scrambled quickly to pass an economic stimulus package, which is expensive and unnecessary, just so our political "leaders" can chase after the train, climb on board at the last minute, and claim to have been engineers all along. It is an election year and such shameless posturing is important if these self-aggrandizing scallywags hope to cling like encrusted barnacles to their offices. And barnacles they are, intellectually and morally.

Over the years, our government has mutated into what we have today: career politicians who declare themselves little kings and put the protection of their fiefdoms above the good of the nation. Businesses pay large sums of tribute to these elites, just hoping to receive a favor or two in return, or to aviod horrible inquisitions.

The Constitution our elected "representatives" are sworn to uphold and protect has become a dartboard, at which they throw ridiculous legislative missles that most of the lazy turds haven't even READ, hoping that the Supreme Court will head them off at the pass if they become too radical. This "stop me before I enact REALLY STUPID legislation" approach doesn't always work. The Americans With Disabilities Act is a perfect example. Campaign Finance Reform is another.

Thank goodness they're not running the war.

I hate TREE RATS, better know as "squirrels" to people who believe these disgusting, destructive pests are "cute" because they have fuzzy tails. I have waged a constant, merciless 10-year war on tree rats, and the only thing I have accomplished is to grow a grudging respect for my worthy foe. Like its first-cousin, the gutter rat, and its brother, the wharf rat, tree rats are clever, resourceful and unbelievably determined to go places you don't want them to go and to do things you don't want them to do.

I first declared war when I put a couple of bird feeders in the backyard of the first home I shared with my ex-wife. I bought some galvanized pipe, fashioned a nice T-bar at the top of a 10-foot stick, and sunk the stick a couple of feet in the ground, where I anchored it with concrete. Then, I hung a big bird feeder loaded with all sorts of bird-goodies on each end of the T-bar. I barely made it back inside the house before both feeders were swarming with fuzzy-tailed tree rats, who raked all the small stuff out onto the ground to get at the sunflower seeds they preferred. Within two hours, they had emptied both feeders, knawed one of the wooden bird-roost bars in half and ruined my entire day.

I grabbed my cap and car keys and headed off to buy a pellet gun, but my ex-wife protested vociferiously about me shooting any of those cute little creatures, especially in the neighborhood where we lived, which was in a wildlife protection area. I could go to jail. I might miss a squirrel and put a child's eye out. Why would I want to kill a cute little squirrel, anyway?

I've always been amazed at some people's capacity to bleed straight from the heart and drip compassion like tree sap when it comes to a squirrel, then turn around and treat people the way that twisted sister in Fort Worth did the homeless man she brought home as a hood ornament and left stuck through the windshield of her car for two days until he died. My ex-wife is a lot like that.

But I acceeded to her wishes. Instead of a pellet gun, I bought a can of heavy-duty, water-insoluable grease, and I put a thick layer of it all over the pole. The squirrels were bamboozled. They would run up and jump on the pole, then slide down no matter how hard they worked their climbing muscles. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, they would run away and fall off power lines or out of trees because their greasy little paws could find no purchase. Finally, they stopped trying to climb the pole. I declared victory until the bastards learned to climb the pine tree nearby, run to the end of a limb about ten feet away, and take a wild, batman-like leap at the feeders. If they couldn't hit and hang on, they hit and rattled things enough that a few sunflower seeds fell out on the ground and they could eat them there. I sawed the limb off and they immediately figured out that they could do the same thing from the roof of my house. After that, our placid family life was interrupted constantly by the sound of little tree rat claws scurrying across the roof, followed by the crash of a bird feeder. Since I didn't believe sawing off the roof of my house was a good idea, I moved.

We bought a home in Effingham County, and this time I bought a pellet gun BEFORE I put up bird feeders. I was out in the country now. I had nothing but five acres of woods behind my house. Those arguments about putting out a child's eye and being arrested for slaughtering protected wildlife didn't apply anymore. I hung the bird feeders where I had a perfect shot from the laundry room doorway if another tree rat invasion occurred.

It did, of course, even more intense than before. I thought the tree rats were bad in a subdivision. Now, I had FIVE ACRES OF WOODS behind my house. The tree rats came in swarms. I shot many of them. But every time I killed one, two came to take its place. I must have killed over 100 of them, but thousands remained when I moved away from there, too. That's when I bought my mini-farm and learned that there are things worse than squirrels with which to contend when you plant a half-acre garden. I never stopped hating tree rats. But I learned to hate deer, too.

That's why I find THIS ARTICLE refreshing to read. Okay, they might be rats in pajamas instead of tree rats. But rats they are.

BY THE WAY! Some heavyweights are taking hard shots at the doofus air pollution study I ranted about last night. Read THIS and THIS and remember that YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST!

In case you didn't notice, BLOGGER has a new look. And boy, is it operating at warp speed! INSTANTMAN went several hours today, in broad daylight, without a post and I was convinced he had dropped dead at his keyboard with his index finger still quivering on the mouse, which is an honorable way for a blogger to die. But I am happy to announce that the Professor is alive and back to posting now that the BLOGGER upgrades are complete.
YES, WE HAVE REALLY STUPID PEOPLE IN POSITIONS OF POWER ALL OVER THE WORLD! If you read the posts below, you may understand why an idiot such as Alec Baldwin, who has made a public fool of himself on numerous occasions, still hopes to launch a successful political career. Public fools often do well in that line of work.
I once suspected Washington, DC, was a prime doofus-magnet that attracted really goofy people and made them regulators. I was wrong about that. We have our fair share of goofy people in charge of promulgating goofy regulations, but we're far behind the masters. The REAL doofus magnet of the WORLD is Belgium. That place is home to "the authorities in Brussels" who seem bound and determined to turn the European Union into some sort of bizarre Borg Collective. The hive requires quiet, the better to hear the words of the master, so a noise limit of 87 decibels is about to be imposed. The result may be the end of BAGPIPES. The EU (ewwww!) is denying that the regulation was meant to silence the glorious music of the pipes, but 87 decibels are 87 decibels, and the law is the law. Pipers better put a muffler on their instruments or face the wrath of the "authorities in Brussels," whoever the hell THEY are.

Braveheart would go to war over this.
MY SON IS A CRIMINAL! He has murdered me, all his friends, the dogs, the cats, my truck and even his Grandma more than once with a variety of different toy weapons, including a gun-shaped stick he once found in the back yard. The dogs, the cats and my truck ignored him, but me, all his friends and even his Grandma either shot back or feigned death with scenery-chewing abandon. It was all A GAME that little boys have played since the dawn of civilization. Today, however, we have become so civilized that some people's brains roll right out of their ears.

Paul Craig Roberts describes the current state of insanity over guns in THIS excellent piece. Law enforcement officers and do-gooder politicians need to be dragged off and shot for some of the crap they pull. Where's that stick my son found in the back yard when I need it?

Thursday, March 07, 2002

I LOVE IT WHEN A PLAN COMES TOGETHER. Here's an interesting article about the unexpected backlash that resulted from the insidious, unethical, money-grubbing lawsuits launched by mayors of ineptly-run, crime-ridden cities against gun manufacturers. Except for Smith & Wesson, which was owned by a spineless British euro-weenie company at the time and surrendered as if they were French, gun makers banded together and stood up to the assault on their right to operate a legitimate business, and won. The lawsuits are being tossed out of court left and right, half the states have passed laws forbidding any such suits in the future, and after 9/11, guns are selling like hotcakes. Although they never intended it at the time, the Democrat mayors who listened to greedy tobacco lawyers and filed the suits probably elected the president we have today. Gun owners can be a surly lot when their Second Amendment rights are threatened.

Contrary to the propaganda spouted by anti-gun hysterics, surly gun owners don't take to the streets and start shooting. They show up at the polls and vote.
Okay, she didn't like her new HOOD ORNAMENT so she let him bleed to death in her garage. Whoa, this is SICK!
IT'S LONELY ON THE FRINGE: Here's a guy who made Blogger's "Choice" list, that page of recognition that I haven't made. At least not YET!
Last night I wrote that Muslim extermists were a good analogy for environmentalists. Both groups are backward, ignorant and crazy, and both believe that shivering in a dark cave is a perfectly acceptable way of life, if modern civilization is the alternative. Muslims lauch jihads against unbeliever infidels, and so do environmentalists when anyone dares to question their religion. Muslim extremists hijack airplanes and blow up buildings; enviomentalists burn ski resorts and vandalize genetically-modified crops. The only real difference is that environmentalists are actually more idiotic than the Muslim extremists. Only a true-believer, brain-dead Green is capable of thinking THIS IDEA makes sense.

The six million pigs in North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany, have been granted inalienable porcine rights by a couple of Ministers of Moronic Legislation. The pigs must have at least one square meter of personal space, a foam-rubber sleeping mat and toys to play with. Nocturnal animals, they still must have a minimum of eight hours of light every day. And to ensure that their lives are as socially enriched as possible (before they are killed and converted into pork chops and bacon), they must receive at least 20 seconds of QUALITY TIME every day by having the farmer gaze at each individual pig for that long.

If my math is correct, no farmer in this doofusberg can own more than 4,320 pigs even if he spends all day and all night gazing at his individual pigs for 20 seconds each. Servicing six million pigs in this fashion will require a LOT of dedicated manpower.

How will this regulation be enforced? I am certain the bureaucracy can create a Department of Happy Hogs with a gang of inspectors counting pig-mats and chew-toys, and measuring the distance between future Boston butts in their pens. But when they scour the countryside in search of violators, how can they be certain that EACH INDIVIDUAL PIG received that 20 seconds of quality time? Interviews? Sworn affidavits? Or will the inspectors just check with stopwatches when they show up unannounced for surprise audits?

"The local edict is only temporary until a nationwide pig-rearing law is passed... But they hope it will serve as a model for the legislation." As well it should, because it takes a real swine to think like a pig.

Speaking of quality time with pigs, THESE PEOPLE went a little overboard.
Since everyone else in blogdom seems to be doing it, I used the ETHICAL PHILOSOPHER SELECTOR today. The results show very clearly that my attitudes and concepts of morality spring from:
1) Rand
2) Sartre
3) Aristotle
4) Hobbes
5) Hume
6) Mill
7) Cynics
8) Plato
9) Aquinas
10) Nietzsche

I don't disagree, except for the positions of Sartre and Hobbes. If I had made my own list without taking the test, I would have reversed those two.
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I haven't seen any of Alec Baldwin's work myself; I understand he's mildly talented." --Florida Lt. Governor, Frank Brogan. Yeah, maybe so. But he's also a BLITHERING IDIOT who suffers from severe memory loss. He doesn't remember saying he would leave the country if Bush won the election.
Boy, I had a lot of other stuff I wanted to post last night, but Blogger crashed and burned again.....

Wednesday, March 06, 2002

ANOTHER BUNCH OF BALDERDASH, CLAPTRAP AND LIES! Researchers have discovered that air pollution is giving people lung cancer; at least the researchers SAY they discovered this fact and it is being trumpeted as gospel in the news reports.

"In a study that offers some of the STRONGEST EVIDENCE TO DATE of the health dangers of air pollution, researchers have found that long-term exposure SIGNIFICANTLY raises the risk of DYING FROM LUNG CANCER and is about as dangerous as living with a SMOKER. That's a pretty damned scary pronouncement, except for the fact that health risks for non-smokers who live with smokers are non-existent. The research proves the same thing about air pollution, although it's not presented that way. According to the report, living in a large city and breathing all the vile, toxic fumes from coal-fired power plants and diesel exhausts increase the risk of lung cancer by 12%. That means a risk ratio of 1.0 to 1.12, which is totally INSIGNIFICANT. Also, the "scientists" sampled average air quality, not individual exposure, and extrapolated from this pathetically WEAK EVIDENCE to reach their conclusions. The "results" are bogus and if the idiots reporting about it had even the merest glimmer of an understanding of statistics, they would laugh the "researchers" out of town.

The MINIMUM increase in risk ratio that can be statistically significant is 1.0 to 2.0. Anything less than that falls into the natural margin of error in dealing with numbers. That may be a simplistic way of saying it, but it's true. A 1.0 to 1.12 ratio ROUNDS OFF to 1.0 to 1.0, which is no increase in risk at all.

All the usual suspects are waving these findings like a bloody shirt and screaming like Muslim fanatics (which is an excellent analogy for environmentalists) that now, faced with this IRREFUTABLE PROOF of the dangers of air pollution, the EPA must pass the ridiculous standard of 15 micrograms per cubic meter as the maximum allowable small particulate pollution in the air and enforce it with all the might of the federal government, no matter what the cost. Shut down those dirty, coal fired power plants! Park those diesel trucks and buses! WE DON'T WANT TO DIE!

Of course, the average pollution in the study was 14 micrograms per cubic meter, which is less than the EPA standard, and probably a LOT LESS than what I breathe out here in the Georgia woods when the pine trees began pollenating. Congress, filled with the brightest minds and most powerful intellects we can find in our nation, probably will insist that the EPA act on these findings, even though the researchers THEMSELVES admit in their abstract that "Measure of coarse particle fraction and total suspended particles were not consistent with mortality."

Translation: "We believed we could prove that air pollution kills, but we were unable to do so, even after this long, comprehensive study. But we're gonna SAY we did anyway."

Yep, it's time for government action on this matter.

Tuesday, March 05, 2002

WAR DEAD UPDATE. I just spoke to my ex-special forces buddy RECONDO, who keeps track of this stuff the way I do bluegrass music, and he said that three of the men killed in the Afghanistan firefight were Rangers from the 101st Airborne, stationed at Hunter Field, in Savannah, right next-door to me, where they are responsible for guarding my eastern flank. If I were playing in a bar right now, I would demand silence from the crowd and ask that everyone drink a toast to good men, behaving as heroes, who fell in harms way. God bless them all.

I knew a lot of those guys during my guitar-playing days. They are as tough as they come. A few may fall, but woe unto the enemy that faces those guys. Other countries brag that they have elite troops (try "Iraq's "ELITE Republican Guard" for example), but NOBODY has anything like the Rangers, except for OUR Delta Force, OUR Navy Seals and OUR leatherneck marines. I do not believe the United States is a warlike nation, but when provoked, we wage war like nobody else ever seen on this planet. Osama underestimated the anger America generates when truly pissed off. And we have the power to make our anger felt, far and wide. We may not have Osama's dead body (yet!) but the insane bastard dares not show his ugly face now, because retribution is certain if he does. And I hope to hell that WE WILL NOT QUIT, until we stomp him and his organization like a roach on the kitchen floor, no matter what hand-wringing reporters have to say about it.

I grieve that local Rangers were killed in battle. But I believe we should send some of their buddys into action right away. I saw warriors when I was around those guys. They might want revenge.

Give them the opportunity.
I put in for some vacation time today and had it approved.

For people who have never been to Savannah on St. Patrick's Day, I'll tell you the honest truth. It's the one time of the year that the "beautiful lady with a dirty face" lets her hair down, takes off her panties and runs around crazed, with her dress hiked up around her neck. About 600,000 people show up to watch the dynamite parade (greater Savannah, including all the suburbs and incorporated localities has a population of less than 300,000), then about 500,000 of them go to River Street to drink beer and party like rabid dogs. The jails fill up, the cobblestone streets run yellow with beer and urine, women expose their breasts frequently, a couple of unfortunates always fall in the river and drown and a LOT of folks get laid that night. I once attended the festivities every year, but now I'm old, decrepit and burnt out. If I went down there and drank the way I used to, I probably would be the one of the unfortunate doofuses who fell in the river and drowned. If you make that mistake on St. Patrick's Day, your best friends usually take at least two days to realize that you are missing, then the authorities take another three or four to find your crab-eaten body up under a dock somewhere. It ain't the way I want to go.

So, I am staying home on St. Patrick's Day and going to Key West immediately thereafter. I am also staying at a "clothing optional" den of iniquity, where I intend to stay naked a lot and tan certain private parts of my body under the warm Carribean sun. I haven't been to the Keys in years, but I'll bet the conch fritters are still delicious and the Bloody Marys with fresh lime, accompanied with two Tylenol, can still wipe away the most merciless of hangovers, and I intend to cultivate a few while I'm there.

Hell, I might even take my "fix a flat" kit with me, just in case I get lucky.
Want a really good reason for America to support Israel? Read THIS. A population that smokes cigraettes in defiance of government regulations while dodging suicide bombers is a lot more worthy of admiration than most residents of California.
Wanna see how a SHOE BOMB works? Some experts say they shoeunibomber would have been successful with his rocket shoes had everything gone according to plan. Unfortunately, he probably urinated all over himself while "cleansing" in the men's room with typical Islamic extremist elegance and grace. A dry fuse might have worked. But really... just LOOK AT THAT DINGLE. He couldn't blow his nose without help from Allah. He may have walked onto a plane with explosives in his shoes, but now he's really UP ON CHARGES! Get it?
SICK, SICK SICK! Andrea Yates may have drowned her children, but at least she didn't TRY TO FEED THEM TO RATS. Geez.
I wrote yesterday about the federal government inserting itself into every nook and cranny of life and micro-managing EVERYTHING at the molecular level. Well, HERE'S AN EXAMPLE of how a lot of elected hockwads and doofuses see their role in a free society. So much for the Republican ideal of a smaller, less-intrusive government. As long as we have blithering, bombastic, self-righteous, egotistical little Hitlers such as US Rep. Frank Wolf (Retard-Va.), we should work tirelessly to protect our Second Amendment right to own firearms. This anal-retentive idiot objects to liquor ads on television and had the unmitigated gall to write a letter to the networks threatening to "protect the public interest and public airwaves by setting up a federal regulatory system for network advertising" if any network dared to display the same sort of unmitigated gall THIS DORKLE displays and run liquor ads.

Note to Frank: You, sir, are a totally symmetrical example of what I despise about politicians. You are, of course, an omnipotent God in your own right, having been elected to public office from a small balliwick in a fairly insignificant state, which means you don't amount to the brown crust on a lower sphincter muscle in the great scheme of America. From this lofty perch, you hurl bolts from Olympus, like the mighty being you are, expecting us mere mortals down below to tremble at your wrath. Well, I kinda skipped the trembling stage and went right into gag refelx.

I don't know what THAT MORON has been drinking, but I want some.

UPDATE: I discover now that the link I installed here does not work anymore. Trust me; it's a true story and twelve other representatives signed the letter with the leading retard. So, just READ THIS INSTEAD. It pretty well sums up my feelings.
American combat deaths in Afghanistan dominate the news today. I have listened to interviews with tearful widows and grieving brothers. I have seen the bold headlines and the pictures of flag-draped coffins. And I don't like the way this inevitable outcome of warfare is being handled by the media.

Anytime anybody dies of anything except old age, it is tragic. The loved ones of those who were killed have my deepest sympathy. I admire and respect those courageous men who made the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. I am saddened that it cost them their lives. But these men were volunteer soldiers and they knew the job was dangerous when they took it. They made that decision of their own free will and they accepted the risks. They were in a war, in combat, and people die in that situation. It goes with the turf. Sadness and grief are proper emotions when men die fighting for a worthy cause, but hand-wringing, overblown, oh-my-God reactions to American combat deaths do not serve to convince our enemy that we are serious about finishing what we started.

In the past few days, 23 people died as a result of a winter storm in the middle of our country. Global-warming scaremongers never mention the number of deaths ACTUALLY CAUSED by blizzards and cold weather because they are too busy scaring the living crap out of people with dire predictions about deaths that HAVE NOT OCCURRED from warmer weather. I saw headlines proclaiming, "DEATH TOLL RISES TO EIGHT" about soldiers in Afghanistan. I did not see the same headlines announcing, "DEATH TOLL RISES TO TWENTY-THREE" about the storm. If you stop and think about it, eight men killed in combat against a bloodthirsty enemy in a nine-hour battle on hostle terrain is an impressively low number when a blizzard in midwest America kills twenty-three. The news is not being reported from that perspective, but who ever thought it would be?

I realize that stories about dead soldiers in combat sell more newspapers and draw greater television ratings than stories about Joe Blow from Missouri who drank too much and froze to death after passing out in a snowbank during the blizzard. Everybody seems willing to accept the fact that people die in blizzards, and when Joe Blow expires in a snowbank, his name is never mentioned outside the obituary column of his hometown newspaper. Soldiers die in battle and reporters go into a frenzy.

I regret the death of ANY American soldier. But we must be willing to accept combat deaths if we are to win this war. We must not whine about them, either. The price may be expensive, and every life lost is irreplaceable, but we cannot waver. We must not lose our resolve. We have the best-equipped, highly trained and deadly military force in history, and our soldiers are willing to do what is necessary to vanquish the enemy, even if it means giving up their lives. Honor them when they do. Respect their bravery. Write of their exploits in history books. Remember them forever.

But don't wring your hands and whine. That heaps dishonor on the dead.

Monday, March 04, 2002

Not content with regulating the amount of water a toilet may flush, or the amount of gasoline a car burns per mile, or the energy-efficiency of refrigerators, washers and dryers, Congress is planning to apply its Solomon-like wisdom to regulating AIR CONDITIONERS. And who do you suppose is the mastermind of this grand plan that will increase the cost of heat pumps and central units by $335 to $435 a pop while achieving minimal energy savings? Tom "Terriffic" Daschle, of course.

I have ranted about this before, but campaign finance reform would be unnecessary and the Enron affair would not be festooned with huge amounts of baksheesh paid to both political parties if the government actually governed instead of inserting itself into every nook and cranny of life and micro-managing at the molecular level. Businesses pay protection money to these assholes in the form of campaign contributions because they HAVE TO. Otherwise, the gilded idiots may put them OUT of business with a stupid regulation, slap them with a federal anti-trust lawsuit, sic the EEOC on their butts, or team up with a bunch of state's attorneys general to attack like a swarm of Egyptian scarab beetles and pick their bones clean. Such things happen all the time. The government is the hulking, dangerous thug in the neighborhood, and it makes sense to pay him off in the hope of avoiding his ire.

Daschle also announced this weekend that the judicial nomination of Charles Pickering is dead, proudly proclaiming victory in one of the most shameless examples of outright character assassination ever performed. Every Democrat on the Judicial Committee who votes against Pickering is a cheap political whore, and all ten will do so, obeying their pimp. And these are the people who feel it is their sacred duty to regulate how much electricity an air conditioner may use, because they are so pure of heart and so dedicated to making life better for us all.

Drilling for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve is dead, too. From what I've read about it, the ANWR appears to be one of the most God-forsaken, inhospitable wastelands on the planet, but environmentalists call it "fragile" and "pristine" and "unspoiled," and then talk in hushed, respectful voices about the caribou herds and their precious spawning grounds where the cute little babies are born. They leave out the part about the cute little babies freezing to death in arctic blizzards or being sucked dry of blood by swarms of mosquitoes that proliferate there. They also don't mention that the ANWR is 19 MILLION ACRES and the drilling can be done from one spot about the size of a typical Wal-Mart parking lot. No, this entire affair is about Democrats standing up for what is right, which is pleasing environmentalists. Those people pay a lot of baksheesh and turn out to vote, too. Besides, it makes George Bush look like an eco-rapist, which is always good for Tom Daschle, er... I mean the country.

Yeah, as if what's good for the country has ANYTHING to do with the manuvering and manipulating occurring now. It's all about power and control, about being the hulking thug in the neighborhood. That's what Daschel craves, and he is just insidious, ruthless and unprincipled enough to get it. He screwed up by obstructing the "economic stimulus package," because I didn't want to see that pork-laden, money-wasting piece of useless crap done, and anytime Daschel and I are on the same side of an issue, he obviously didn't think his part through thoroughly enough. I remember Bill Clinton attempting to sell an economic stimulus package in 1993, and I suspected at the time that the only "stimulus package" that horny goat ever thought about was behind his zipper. The economy recovered without the political stimulus. It's doing it again now.

The idiotic idea would have passed this time, but Daschle stonewalled, preventing a host of pandering politicians from throwing taxpayer dollars to the wind, raking them up into big piles and burning them along with dead leaves and then saying, "Looky here what WE DID," when the economy turned around all by itself. The stimulus package would have been a tremendous success for all the spendthrift politicians and everyone could have basked in the glow of success no one earned. Thank God Daschle stopped it.

Now I wonder who is going to stop HIM?



Sunday, March 03, 2002

The football game is over and my son is on his way back to where he lives. I always feel an incredible emptiness when he leaves, but I have a nice souvenir of this visit, which is a set of muddy footprints running down the hallway and back again, where he left his tracks when he picked up his clothes and went to climb into his mama's very cool sports car. She picks him up when the unemployed, dope-smoking lover is staying at her house, which is every weekend, but she's still worried that I might show up with a pistol one day and put a couple of well-deserved slugs into that bastard's diseased liver. The thought has crossed my mind more than once.

I would rather shoot her, but I never will because my son loves his mama and I love my son. And after all the crap she's heaped on my head, I still love her, too. That's sad.
A football game is being played in my front yard. The rules seem fungible and the object of the game appears to be GET DIRTY. The boys are doing a fine job of that. My ex-wife will be here in 30 minutes to take my son back to her house, where the unemployed, dope-smoking lover waits to welcome my son "home." God, I hate this shit.

I'm going outside to play quarterback. I need to protect my Japanese plum tree from those rampaging Visigoths in my front yard,
There is something terribly wrong with the new basketball I bought for my son. We went to mama's house today, visited with her for a while, then walked over to the schoolyard to shoot some hoops with the new ball. We tried three different goals on three different courts, and we sucked on every one. Airballs, bricks and clunkers flew from our talent-box like frightened quail, and we pretty well stunk up everywhere we went. My son blamed it on the rain, which WAS falling in scattered drops at the time, and I agreed. Otherwise, I would have to admit that there is not a single shred of basketball talent between the two of us. But it's a new ball and IT is not accustomed to the job of GOING THROUGH THE HOOP when we fling it in that general direction. Rawlings makes a crappy basketball. Don't buy their defective product.
I just wanted to try THIS to see what happens. That's a link to MYSELF! And it's about goats, which one of my comments corespondents asked for. If I link to myself, is that masturbation, coprophelia or incest? I don't know, but it must be evil.
Evidently I'm not the only gut-rumbling troglodyte who believes John Kerry is a SLIMEBALL.
Think about John Kerry, Tom Daschel and Hillary Clinton. Then, think about George Bush. "In these depressing times, such self-reliance, trust in one's own culture and history, and confidence in right as one sees that right are near-criminal offenses." About whom are WE SPEAKING?. If personal integrity is part of the equation, the first three are out.
Good grief! The Secret Service is even WORSE THAN I THOUGHT. Now the bar fight includes a Mike Tyson-style ear-biting episode on top of a "join me in a hot tub party" pickup line. These guys worked for Bill Clinton far too long.
Senator John Kerry (Dumbass-Massachusetts) is testing the water for a run at the presidency. I hope he steps on a slippery rock, falls in the river and drowns, but I may be over-reacting. I don't believe ANYONE from the People's Republic of Massachusetts can persuade a sufficient number of voters across this vast nation that the Taxachusetts, socialist, puppet-master style of government they practice in that state is a blueprint for running all of America. But Kerry is going to try, and his first "broadsides" are as lame as he is. (Kerry's slogan: "Just like Teddy, But a Better Driver. I Drink Less, Too!") We launched the war on terrorism six months ago. After SIX WHOLE MONTHS we don't have Osama bin Laden's severed head on a pike next to the northbound lane of the Boston Freeway; therefore, the war is A HOPELESS FAILURE, a QUAGMIRE, an AIMLESS ADVENTURE.

I'm certain John Kerry would have handled things differently had he been in charge, just the way he handled that village full of civilians in Vietnam. As Bugs Bunny always said, "whatta maroon."

One of Kerry's big, stump-speech daisycutters is the promise to protect workers' rights to unionize (is that a shitty word, or not? UNIONIZE? How about organize, form a union or bargain collectively? Naw, "unionize" says it all.). I wasn't aware that the inability to "unionize" was a burning political issue in this country until I realized that FEDERAL WORKERS and TEACHERS form the most radical union forces around today, and they vote Democrat in lockstep. Yeah, let's make sure that TAXPAYER-FUNDED DEADBEATS organize to demand more taxpayer dollars for less work and let's be absolutely certain that those in charge of EDUCATING OUR CHILDREN can't be fired when they don't do the job. You go, John.

Unions served a worthy purpose years ago when working conditions sucked, workplace dangers were ignored and laborers WERE exploited by management. But that was back in the days when radio was king of communication. Government regulations now take care of everything unions once demanded, so unions have mutated into a lowest common denominator enforcer. The worthless bastard who doesn't want to work and screws up the job when he actually lifts a finger to attempt it is the standard unions want to set and protect for everyone in the workplace. The motto seems to be: "Join a Union and Enjoy Your Right Be An Unproductive Asshole!" Go to your job every day, don't hit a lick at a snake, and bitch constantly about how rotten the job is. Earn the nickname "Coffee Break," or "Kickstand" and you'll be Bull Steward before long. That's what unions do today.

John Kerry probably has a lot of loyal constitutents among those human tapeworms. But they are outnumbered by people who actually WORK for a living and resent having their hard-earned wages extracted from their paychecks before they ever see the money so that some idiot such as Kerry can spend it for them. At least, I hope so.

What a prick.

I have HOT, NAKED PICTURES OF BRITTANY SPEARS!

Okay, I don't. But I've heard that those words will kick a lot of search engines to this site, so I thought I would give it a try. BRITTANY SPEARS NAKED!

She's also CLUELESS. But she has a hot bod.