Friday Roundup

Note: this article contains dead links, the url is still in the hover/alt text. Keep the web working, curate content well!

Here’s what’s hot this week:

  • Drudge Report posted a rumor yesterday about Kerry boinking an intern or something. Of note is that Drudge was scooped by WatchBlog, where I used to write (no one has touched my record-setting 76 posts!). Could be interesting to watch this one.
  • If you always wanted the phone number 212-867-5309, it’s for sale. I’m looking for the 404 area code version.
  • Out of nowhere, this little site called Turnpike Films shows up with hilarious mock commercials. My favorite was the Budweiser commercial but everyone else seems to be linking to Nutri-Grain: Feel Great, so I will too.
  • Getting Kerryed away? Turns out Kerry never hung out with Jane Fonda at a Vietnam anti-war rally. Of course it probably doesn’t help him when Fonda opens her trap and defends him, he probably wishes she’d shut up.
  • DJ Danger Mouse remixed Jay-Z’s Black Album with The Beatles’ White Album and created the Grey Album (includes audio files). “Encore” is my favorite, but Jay-Z’s rapping gets monotonous afater a while and kills the idea. There’s already a cease and desist from The Beatles.
  • Here’s some Fuck Valentine’s Day cards.
  • There’s a hilarious spoof of the Matrix Reloaded where Neo fights a kazillion agents, except with funny voice-overs. Be sure to watch KNOX’s other movies.
  • A twist on “smack the pengu”, here comes “orca slap“, pengiuns flip off an orca’s back and you throw snowballs at them in which them stick in a target. These are really quite addicting.
  • Triumph the Insult Comic Dog has a website ……………….. for me to poop on.
  • Move over metrosexuals, here comes the “quirkyalone“.
  • For your valentine, may I suggest the: “shit bitch you is fine” teddy bear. Or maybe just print your own V-Day cards (you cheap bastard)

Well that’s it for this week, see everyone (and by everyone I mean that one person who actually visits) next week. Amazingly, the updates will continue.

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Fuck Valentine’s Day

Yeah yeah yeah, I’m 25 and every year around this time my grandmother and sister become a little bolder in asking about my so-called love life. Never had one, never want one. Call it a spate of extremely bad luck, but all the girls I’ve dated have been sociopaths, bottom-feeders, or emotional train-wrecks that worked their magic spell to make me just as fucked up as they were. Maybe this is the mysterious change that women are supposed to have on men, they unleash their problems and see if a man has empathy or if he turns the volume of the TV up a couple notches to drown out their incessant wailing.

I’m not trying to generalize, except I have to generalize because the representatives of the female species who have crossed my path are pretty damn rotten. This is not to claim that I am “all that” or anything of the sort, I mean hey, I have a horrible case of bachelorus habitatus (translation: there is a 3 foot pile of clothes on the bedroom floor) and my fridge contains more beer and sandwich meats than the local deli. One redeeming value of my bachelor lifestyle is that I get to decorate any which way I like, unfortunately I have discovered my taste is expensive antique furniture, leather sofas, velvet drapes (Gawd not Elvis, think Baroque), all intermingled with modern electronics. Whoa, let’s kill this tangent, back to why I hate women… wait shit that’s not what I mean… back to why I hate Valentine’s Day.

First of all, the month of January (and sometimes February) has the highest rate of domestic violence (which has been directly linked to Super Bowl Sunday), whereas February has the highest marriage rate. Statistically speaking, you are encouraged to beat the shit out of your girlfriend when she whines about not respecting her [whatevers] and interrupts your precious football game, only to make it up to her with a box of chocolates or a ring or a teddy bear the following month. And it’s not even a real holiday, Hallmark made it up so you wouldn’t feel bad about the black eye and busted lip that was finally healing. Don’t you feel good about yourself. Oh wait, I forgot to mention love.

Yes, love… okay, love has nothing to do with Valentine’s day. The truth is that women are looking for some mad loot and if you don’t give them something to tide them over until Spring/Easter shopping season, they are going to take your credit cards and max them out, then dump you. Guys basically want sex, that’s pretty sad but men are just plain horny and Valentine’s day means badonka-donk. Think about it the next time you are buying a card for your girl… are you thinking: “Hey, I love her”, or do you think: “Man I hope I don’t fuck this up, I hope this isn’t too cheesy, I wonder if she would laugh at the card with the monkeys kissing, nah, I’ll just get her the one with the angels, dude I’m so getting some tonight”. Guys, if it’s the long drawn out one, that means you are thinking with the little head, it likes to talk like that, except it sounds like Mr. Roper from Three’s Company, or at least mine does. But trust me, if you hear Mister Roper, call for an escort, they are cheaper and they leave when you want them to, and you get to skip over the smarmy love crap and get right to the whoopee (which, by the way, is still a socially acceptable term for sex). It’s win/win, but an awfully expensive cab fare. But again I digress.

Another hilarious statistic has to do with menstruation, or as I like to call it, “Dear lord the woman’s bleeding from her {bleep}ing {bleep-bleep bleep} someone call a {bleep}ing ambulance”. I garner than roughly 1/6 of all women are seeping on the glorious Red Heart Day itself, and why wear your heart on your sleeve when you can wear it in your panties as well. Well excuse me for saying so, but that’s just disgusting. If you are in the unlucky 1/6th of that population, I have pity on you because all that junk you bought won’t mean crap unless you have some really freaky girl who likes to get it on in the middle of a crimson tide, and chances are you probably won’t be too turned on by it yourself.

Again our subject at hand, Valentine’s day and it’s trappings: chocolate (which in the event you date a stripper, should be given in concentrated “white powder” form to fully express your love), lingerie which hits the floor in .0005sec, card, dinner, drinks, wine, jewelry, theater, etc, etc. You can easily spend $400+ on a woman just to get some of the tang, and even then you might have some fat chick that you’re afraid to let go of lest you be alone on Valentine’s Day (or just plain alone). Listen up loser, save half of that money and get an X-Box, and spend the other half on a hooker, it’s definitely cheaper.

And for God’s sake, stop beating the shit out of your woman during the Super Bowl!

Update: Joe Stump tried to tell me that my claiming that domestic violence rises during the Super Bowl is not true. My response is that there is strong evidence that there is indeed domestic violence related program activities. We’ll let it go at that lest any of you unpatriotic wife-beaters dares to call me a liar, you goddamn liberals.

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Dean: Flip Out!

Dean, buddy, pal… you lost. Get over it homey, you’re not going to the White House, and Kerry is already saying “Howard who?” when your people prank call them to ask if he needs a VP. Think about it man, it’s not that you are a bad guy, it’s just that you really freak a lot of people out who aren’t too wild about the idea of replacing a batshit crazy Republican president with… well you.

Now don’t take it too hard, I mean you showed that you’re a pretty cool guy and wanted to get rid of Bush; Hell, you stood up and became a front man for everyone who was against that terribly ignorant Iraq war, kudos for that. The internet latched onto you and vaulted you to heroic status as someone who will be listened to. Unfortunately, when those people aren’t reading Daily Kos or CalPundit, they are looking at porn [nsfw] or updating their blog with links to badger badger badger or some link they found on Fark. Not that I’m anyone to talk of course.

The only problem is that you appealed to all the internet anti-war minions and forgot that 90% of America doesn’t blog everyday (I made that up, but it sounds plausible). And once they realized that you were not the hero they sought, they dropped you like a bad All Your Base joke. Oh sure, you’re career as Internet cliche may live on as a YEAAAAARGH joke for a few more months and possibly past the general election, but face it bub, YEAAAAARGH doesn’t get you many votes from Iowans (who I’ve heard on good authority, don’t even have electricity, much less the Internet).

So what are you going to do? I mean, you could probably mope through another 3 months of primaries, watching your numbers shrink until even Al Sharpton is shaking his head in disgust, or you could do what any crazy left-liberal candidate should do when it’s clear the road is blocked and they still have millions in the bank: Flip Out!

Flip out man, go crazy nuts, perhaps start quoting Mr. T at your rallies: “I pity da fool who votes for Bush”. Now, by flip out I do not mean self-destruct and bring down the whole anti-war movement, ignore everyone you have previously debated and realize the what your Internet constituency truly hates: war. Now focus on Bush and don’t hold back: call him names (warmongering monkey boy works well for some), make shit up (he drowns babies and old people in oil), no one’s going to care (except the usual apologists), they will know that you have FLIPPED OUT! Trust me, the Internet loves a man who flips out and attacks the establishment.

Now, eventually, you are going to run out of campaign money, or some pro-war thugs are going to beat you up or something, regardless the end result will be that your campaign is finally over. When that day comes, don’t kill yourself or anything (not like you would), instead give a ring to the EFF and see if they’ll take you on as a consultant, then send select emails to some of the larger blogs and Leftist publications and see if you can’t write op-eds for them (since most newspapers will probably not return your calls). You will now have established yourself as an internet icon for life, invite your friend Al Gore to write about how he invented the Internet and explain how he figured out the intricacies of packet switching. Oh, and don’t flip out any more after you concede.

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The Crab on Mars

So, I was reading this Slashdot story on why Mars is all red, and since I understood very little about it, a comment caught my eye claiming that there were crabs on mars, I followed the link it gave and thought to myself: “what the crap is that thing”? Being a suspicious person of course I had to consult with the original NASA panoramic photo of Mars (which is really, really, really large) which resulted in the speculation and sure enough, it’s there too. So I saved the photo to my desk, and not knowing what else to do with it, I opened it with Photoshop and looked at it, and promptly concluded that it must be some debris from the lander airbags (which are supposed to tear off thin fabric layers on rocks and junk instead of popping).

Not knowing what else to do with the photo in Photoshop, I decided to make the sky blue and so I did, then I made the surface look scary like if Mars was really an evil planet covered with a thick soot from heavy machinery of eons past. The result is this desktop image that I’m now using and you are free to have as well, it’s 1280 x 1024.

mars blue sky

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A Public Service Announcement

I’m really sick of everyone posting that stupid Ben Franklin quote like no one has ever heard it before and it is the best quote ever. Actually I’m sick of them misquoting Franklin now that I think about it.

Fact: Ben Franklin loves electricity and the smell of bacon.

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Welcome to the new site

Welcome to my site, I’m back from a hiatus (checks watch… jeez six months?). Some of you may know me from my writings and rants (if not, now is the time to read them). Some of you may have just wandered in somehow. While others of you are working for the government and are watching to make sure I don’t use the the words kill and. the. president. in the same sentence, luckily the latter are not very grammar inclined. A few things of note before you run off and click on stuff:

It’s broken in IE, I am aware of that, I am soliciting help from a CSS guru tomorrow.

Everything is imported, but some of it looks like ass because my max width is 525px, whereas some of my old images are wider. I don’t really care at the moment, but I thought I’d let you know.

There is a lot of work to be done still, this is a working beta of the site as far as I’m concerned. However I am trying to get it all finished as fast as possible, because I would like to be able to write instead of worrying about stupid design issues. I’m nerdy but I’m tired of having to tweak things for hours on hand. Blah to that.

Anyways, if you’ve read this far, then you realize I am pretty long-winded. Pull up some popcorn and a drink and start reading.

Ciao for now.

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NO… SLEEP… TIL… LAUNCH-DAY {makes beatbox sounds with mouth}

Apologies to Drew

so am writing the most badass hosting software ever for the company i work for. it is called mynatnet, except it is version two and i also wrote version one but it barely works, well actually everyone calls it stevemax because the old billing software only works with this thing called billmax, which is written by a company that also writes really great software like “click here to delete important stuff” and “make the grown man cry”. it is very clever to change one word and call it stevemax because noone would ever think of that, that is genius. anyways, i have never written any type of accounting software in my life, but they pretty much let me go wild on everything, so i added really cool stuff like billing that works but had to take out some features, like random crashing, because i didn’t have time to write that in.

okokok, that is about it, except for when i do something like like write an endless loop that makes the server crash and coworker says to me: “programmer, I cannot log into the old system and update billing codes”. so i tell them that the two systems are having a fight because one is jealous of the other and that it will take a while because there is not enough ram to make the fight faster to see who wins. then i send them a screenshot of super street fighter, except instead of ken and ryu fighting it is billmax and stevemax, and stevemax is yelling har-yu-kun and beating the crap out of ken, i mean billmax.

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Stray Dog

This is a factual story that I’m putting under the heading of fiction since I am a habitual liar (no, say embellishes, it sounds legit). No, I’m a liar, I made this whole thing up. Actually that last sentence was a lie. Thoroughly confused? Just read the story.
see more…

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Then Came the Shot

I was sitting down by the entrance. The place was gated so I would have to let Matt in when he arrived. A few cars passed, I was sitting off to the side, under a tree, wearing my new red jacket. It was almost late October and there was a slight chill. I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time: twenty minutes already. Another car went out the entrance. I wondered if someone might think I looked shady or suspicious, sitting in the shadows, and call the cops.

There had been a couple break-ins in the last month. One letter to the residents mentioned locking cars, and a later reminded everyone about locking apartment doors. Both were vague and only spoke in high legalese. I wished they would provide descriptions in those letters. At least I could know whether a guy like me was suspect or should at least wear all white and stand closer to the street lamp. It was all convoluted. Who was a suspect or not was ambiguous and no one knew anything.

My cell phone rang. Matt’s name popped up on the caller-ID.

“Yo!” I macho-ed.

“Hey, how do you get in?” Matt was at the gate.

“I’m standing right here…” I got up. “I have my card… oh, the exit gate is open… just come through that.” I pointed at the gate to whoever was parked at the entrance.

Matt pulled around to the exit side and came through. He was driving an older Nissan Pathfinder. It fit his preppy/slacker image well.

When he stopped inside the gate, I hopped in. I pointed directions to where my apartment was. We drove for a little bit to the sound of the local college alternative music, WREK. When we came to my apartment, I eyed the apartment next to mine. It was on the parking lot side of the building and belonged to a beautiful red-head girl who looked a couple years younger than me. I’d lived here for six months and had never seen her more than in passing, though we surely knew of each other’s sporadic schedules. I didn’t know her name but she seemed single and lived alone.

We plodded up the stairs and as I opened the door, I mumbled. “Excuse the lack of furniture, I am still situating myself from my estate sale.” I grinned at Matt as he cast he eyes over the meager apportions.

Inside was a table with two chairs. A burgundy tablecloth draped over the ends. Near the front door, a surfboard leaned against the wall. Next to it, a blank rectangle of a stretched canvas was hung on the wall. I stepped into the kitchen and pulled out the boxed pipe and lighter I had bought just an hour before.

“I wanted to try out my new pipe. And this crack-torch thing that came with it.” I waved the box set for Matt to see.

Matt had picked up a book from the table that I was reading.

“The War on our Bill of Rights.” I said majestically, then added ominously. “And the Gathering Resistance.”

“I’m paying you in Monopoly money.” I said, pulling out my billfold.

“You got one of those new twenties?”

“Yeah, looks like shit too.” I pulled out a twenty and turned it over in my hand. “Did you know the last time a twenty had color in it, the color was yellow and the bill said ‘twenty dollars’… ‘in gold’?”

“No shit.”

“Uh-huh.” I pulled out another twenty and a ten. “Fifty, right? How much is this worth?” I asked.

“Right now, a little less than an eighth.”

“Highway robbery.” I proclaimed. “But I’m paying you with a defaced bill.”

I quickly wrote “DRUG MONEY” along the top of each bill and handed them to Matt. “I have now corrupted some ‘anti-drug commercial watching kid’ in the suburbs who will now think that a terrorist handled this money.”

Matt handed me the baggie of dope. I held it up to my face and took a good whiff of it’s contents.

“Let’s smoke out on the balcony.” I said.

We went out on the balcony, it was still cool but not breezy. I sat in my usual chair by the window. He pulled the other chair. I plugged in the umbrella lights and the entire balcony was warmly lit by little white Christmas lights. My MP3 player was in the middle of some Kid Koala track with record scratching tearing up the radio. I packed the pipe hastily and handed it to Matt. He sparked and inhaled, handing it back to me.

I took a long hit from the pipe. Exhaled and blew lazily at the smoke cloud that lingered. “Put the sandwiches on the turntable…” droned from the radio.

I passed the bowl back to Matt and said. “Come down from thy mountain, all that are good. And preach amongst my children, spreading thy bounty.”

“What’s that from?” He asked bewildered.

“Dunno, just came to me.” I said dryly. “Nice shirt, kinda ironic to me.” I pointed at his Rage Against The Machine t-shirt. “I had just listened to Rage today after a year-long hiatus.”

“Yeah, this shirt is really old. Check out the back!”

Matt got up and turned around to show me the back. There was some pseudo-Soviet rendering of a robot-man in a suit, and the phrase: “We have determined that the whole system sucks.”

“That is oldskool!” I said as he sat back down. “It’s a shame they aren’t making more records. We need more Rage and outrage in music.” I stuck my left hand out in an air guitar rendition. “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!” I rasped in a bad imitation. “More like that, you know… just burn the fucker to the ground… that kind of music.” I smiled at my own melodrama.

Matt laughed and took a puff from the bowl, then handed it to me. We smoked silently for a few moments, both leaned towards the table in the mystic ritual of puff and pass.

“God, we could really use a Rage reunion tour after all this 9/11 bullshit. Someone with the audience and the balls to ask: ‘Why you fuckin’ up America, grrrr! Burn it down.’ None of this Dixie Chicks bullshit, just tell it like it is. These people are fucking with the Constitution!” I was exasperated.

Matt nodded. I handed the freshly packed pipe back to him and pointed towards the kitchen inside. “You want something to drink? Coke?” I asked.

“Uhh, sure. I gotta stay up and study any ways. What time is it?” He asked.

I looked at my cell phone. “Nine o`clock.” It was 9:16, but I wanted him to stay a bit.

“Yeah, a Coke. That’s cool.”

I went inside and poured a couple drinks. I was high and feeling good. I let the highness dance through my head, working it’s way deep into my locked psychosis. The ice-cubes rattled in the glasses. I carried the drinks back to the patio and Matt closed the screen behind me.

“So what are you studying?” I asked.

“Chemistry.”

“Oh… tough shit. I have no idea how much a mole is anymore.” I joked. “You’ll be able to make your own drugs though.”

“Yeah, dirty crystal meth.”

“Oh no, LSD or some other hallucinogen. What the hell does LSD stand for any ways?”

“Um, lysergic acid diethyl amide.” Matt said triumphantly.

“Lysergic acid is some derivative of lithium isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, I could probably make shitty acid that gives you a headache.”

“Ha ha! No, I think the hard part is diethyl amide… that’s umm, two ethyl amide molecules or two ethyls and a ahhh…. mide?” I pondered.

“Yeah, maybe that’s where the paper turns brown, someone substitutes petroleum for diethyl amide.” He offered.

“Or you could just make shitty meth in a motel room. Ever seen the movie ‘Spun’?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, good movie.” Matt perked up. “They do a shit load of meth in that movie.”

“For real, that was a tripped out movie. That’s a good ‘scared straight’ movie for meth.”

“And he has that chick locked in his room for three days with the music.” Matt grew dramatic. “Hey babe, I’m putting on your favorite CD… krr krr krr krr krr krr krr.” Matt imitated the sound of the CD skipping at full blast.

“Great movie, funny as hell.” I said.

We took a few more tokes from the bowl before Matt waved it away. He was beginning to look slurry-eyed and sheepish. Bran Van 3000 banged out some music on the radio. I tapped my foot along to the beat.

That’s when Matt choked. A moment before, he had been taking a sip from his drink, and the next he was coughing hard, hacking on a bad fluid transfer. I felt bad, it was one of those inexorable drinking accidents that comes along at the most annoying times.

“Hey don’t pass out on me.” I tried to joke.

He sat back, his coughing fit had subsided and let out a belch. He was glassy-eyed and grinning. “That would be tough to explain to the cops and paramedics.”

“Yeah… hello? 911? Yeah, my friend just choked and passed out. What did he choke on? Coke-ah… Cola. Or an ice-cube. I don’t know, it wasn’t my turn to feed him.”

Matt laughed. I went on. “Oh… and then when the cops get here, I have to tell them that you maybe smoked some pot, so you go down as being a drug-related death.”

“Drug-related bull!” Matt chuckled.

“Oh yeah? If you hadn’t been smoking pot, maybe you wouldn’t have been thirsty. They establish a chain of events, and suddenly I’m in jail for 2nd degree manslaughter.” I proffered.

“I doubt that. Besides, you should just chop up my body and never call the cops.”

“No way! I would still have to get rid of your vehicle, and besides, my fingerprints are already God-knows-where all over your door and inside. Too easy to get busted, even if I torched it.”

“Jesus man! Do you give that shit a lot of thought?” He looked at me pensively.

“I give too much stuff a lot of thought. It’s a by-product of reading too much and not having a TV.”

I handed a freshly packed bowl to Matt. He looked at it cautiously, then exclaimed. “What the hell, I’ll study at the library.”

“What subject?” I asked.

“Calculus.”

“Ooh, boring. But that’s only one book, why the library?”

“It’s quiet, I get distracted at home, too much to play with or just fuck off.”

“Good point.”

“Calculus is pretty hard.” He left it at that.

That’s when I reached across the table with the .45 I had been concealing in my jacket and shot Matt in the chest. The shot was loud, sending a giant smoking wound deep into his rib-cage. I looked around at my neighbor’s balconies for any sign of disturbance or lights. There wasn’t any, so I dragged the body inside.

Except that didn’t really happen. I was daydreaming and the weed had kicked in, catching me off-guard.

“Man, I’m high.” I said in mock-falsetto, imitating the South Park character Towlie.

“You guys wanna get haaaa?” Matt picked up on my reference to the show. “I love that… Towlie.”

I lit a cigarette, Matt lit one as well and we sat listening to Bob Wills croon “Roly Poly” over a hip-hop bass line. I closed my eyes and imagined watching the band thump away on trumpets, clarinets, and violins. The music scratched and popped to an undertone bass that boomed in rhythm.

I opened my eyes again and Matt seemed restless and ready to go. He caught my eye and motioned to his cigarette.

“You got an ashtray? Or over the side?” He waved the dying butt in the air.

“Flip it, just ivy down there and it’s not dry enough.”

Matt flicked it hard, trying to get distance behind the arc. It smacked a tree branch and exploded in embers. I followed suit and flicked mine hard enough to send it at the tree branches as well. It hit one of the limbs and stopped dead, apparently wedged between two limbs.

“Well damn, now the tree’s going to get cancer.” I snorted.

“Ha ha, nice.” He guffawed.

We both turned in our chairs to see if the butt would fall out after a moment or two, but it seemed wedged into it’s new home. I turned back to Matt and he got up from his chair.

“Well, I got’s to go. Gotta study for tomorrow.” Matt yawned and downed the rest of his Coke.

“Cool man, give me a shout some time. We’ll smoke up and chill.” I put out my hand to slap.

“A`ight man, peace!” Matt slapped my outstretched hand and headed to the door.

I opened the door for him and stood by for a moment while he descended down to the parking lot. I stole a glance at the bedroom window of the girl next door (the light was never on), then closed and latched my door and turned off the light.

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Industrial-Strength Stupidity In America

Now that the speculation on the cause of the blackouts seems to be abating in the mainstream media, I wanted to bring up a topic of concern regarding what has become an epidemic of short-term thinking in America. The cause of this lies with ignorant stockholders who seek quick profits, and the CEOs and boards that are willing to sacrifice the long-term viability of a company to them.
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Cheney, Iraq, March 2001 – the ultimate lie unravels

2:42PM – I have a scoop over at WatchBlog concerning the Cheney Energy Task Force, countries that had contracts in Iraq as of March 2001, and a twist… countries that are now part of the coalition of the willing.

Go read it, then get mad. We were lied to, duped, finagled, meandered, you name it, they sold it to us. And you uber-patriots had the gall to respond with “support the troops”… as if my questioning of the legitimacy of foreign invasion was suddenly seditious against the military itself instead of it’s rightful victim, the US government that is out of control and hellbent for dominating the rest of the world (sprinkle in such levities as “leadership”, “democracy” and “vision”).

What we have is a modern day recipe for totalitarianism. Not the kind witnessed by the Nazis or Bolsheviks, but a global totalitarianism that seeks to exploit and enslave the entire globe.

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Website version?

6:27PM – I am tweaking the site little by little over the next few weeks, bear with me because this means that articles will be delayed until I can fix some major issues that I have been trying to tackle for a while.

Some of the new features will include:

:: a working admin area for me (this means more articles and more updates, no more plopping data directly into MySQL)
:: a mailing list so that you can sign up and get articles hot off the keyboard
:: RSS for those who like to use aggregators (i’m one of the unconverted… someone find me a decent PHP aggregator and I’ll consider it)
:: slightly cleaner interface, I know it’s pretty easy to use as it is, but there are some revisions that I’d like to make
:: no more ratings. Sad to see them go, but the way it was written, they were inflated by crawlers. Instead I’ll base popularity on my own algorithm of referrers/views/comments
:: search (nuff said)
:: an image gallery (about time too)
:: once again for myself… a working admin area… sheesh!

For those of you who still want your fix of political insight from me in the interim, make your way over to WatchBlog.com. Cam was nice enough to make me a 3rd party editor/writer and I can be found writing quite often for this very interesting site.

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The Carlyle Group, Bush Sr. and Bush Jr.: scandalous conflicts of interest

4:17PM – I humbly present to you the avid reader a scandalous video documentary (realvideo format) about the origins of The Carlyle Group, it’s connections with Saudi Arabia, George Bush Sr., George Bush Jr., the Bin Laden family and various other former politicians. The first 1:47 is in Dutch, however the rest is in English.

This is undeniably the most unpalatable and egregious conflict of interest I have ever born witness to in our government and can only express my distaste and revulsion by proffering this warning by the late President Eisenhower:

In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes.

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I’m a member of the ACLU, and sometimes they are wrong

12:45AM – It’s grammar-Nazi wars like this that make me laugh my ass off on Slashdot. That’s some funny shit.

12:13AM – I recently became a card-carrying member of the ACLU, and I feel it’s my obligation to actively participate or give them feedback when I see it is warranted. In this particular instance… I feel it’s highly appropriate. It has to do with the Muslim woman who refused to take her veil off for her DMV photo. Let’s ignore the fact that she and her husband have used their Islam faith and customs to evade police in the past. Let’s also ignore that no Islam country allows driver’s license photographs with the person wearing a veil, except in the case of Saudi Arabia, who doesn’t allow women to drive at all (also, I don’t want to base our standards of ethics on how badly other countries do things, but on how we can do them better).

I was quite upset that the ACLU would come to the defense of this woman, because this case is frivolous. Here’s the email I sent to them:

I’m a card-carrying member of this organization and I wanted to register my dissatisfaction with the stance concerning Sultaana Freeman’s religious freedom to wear a veil for her DMV photo.

The fact is, this case is ridiculous. A driver’s license is used to IDENTIFY the driver. Disguises and masks, whether for religious purposes or what-not, should not be allowed in the photo. They should however, be allowed to wear them while driving IF AND ONLY IF they do not obstruct the driver’s range of vision in any manner.

How is this so difficult concept to grasp?

I do however support the ACLU’s efforts in other more pertinant matters where racism and race-thinking has placed innocent Muslims in the clutches of the law without proper recourse or where they have been denied their rights. That’s an attrocity that all Americans have to answer to.

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WatchBlog / What the hell is a “Dookie Stick”

5:43PM – I was listening to Monkey Free Radio, and I heard a funny song called “Dookie Stick” (no really) by Most Chill Slack Mob. Anyways, I was wondering what the hell a dookie stick was so I searched Google. To my amazement, I found a really funny page, unfortunately he’s exceeded his bandwidth for the month, so I have to link to Google’s cache instead. Someone give this guy some decent web hosting!

3:32PM – I’m a writer over at WatchBlog, a political oriented news/debate site. The site is an experiment by Cameron Barrett. You can view my pieces in the “Third Party” column and I’ll try to link to them (or duplicate them) whenever I write something. I’m trying to get exposure for my writings and I’m hoping the 2004 election coverage will help that cause. I probably won’t link to my own articles because that would be a bit crass considering I can just post them there in entirety (albeit without pictures).

Good stuff, looks to be an interesting site on whole.

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I Pledge Allegiance…

A while ago, there was considerable brouhaha surrounding a single line of the pledge of allegiance.
see more…

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Warren Buffett is Hank Reardon (genius millionaire)

11:56AM – Warren Buffett has written an article: Dividend Voodoo in the Washington Post lambasting the tax cuts proposed by Bush and signed into law today by a 50-51 vote (Cheney cast the tie-breaking vote). In his article he states clearly the consequences:

The Senate’s plan invites corporations — indeed, virtually commands them — to contort their behavior in a major way. Were the plan to be enacted, shareholders would logically respond by asking the corporations they own to pay no more dividends in 2003, when they would be partially taxed, but instead to pay the skipped amounts in 2004, when they’d be tax-free. Similarly, in 2006, the last year of the plan, companies should pay double their normal dividend and then avoid dividends altogether in 2007.

He goes on to say that who will end up paying for this:

In other words, if I get a break, someone else pays. Government can’t deliver a free lunch to the country as a whole. It can, however, determine who pays for lunch.

Definitely worth a read. Truly an icon fighting against America’s New Socialism Deal.

I called up my credit card company and set about to fix my account so that it better reflects how the US government manages it’s debt/credit. Here’s how it went:

“I’m increasing my spending limit to oh… a million dollars or so. And by the way, I don’t think I’ll be paying as much monthly anymore, so you guys need to lower my payment to three dollars a month. Oh and I think I’m going to max out my card in a year by helping my buddies pay off their credit cards, so we’re going to have this conversation again pretty soon and I’ll probably need to bump my limit up to about three million or so.”

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

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A message from Hermann Goering

6:27PM – Sorry for the lack of updates, my laptop died and I need to get a new hard drive. And it’s not really a priority since I don’t even have a desk at my new place in Atlanta.

Anyways… I figured I would post a short weblog entry to let everyone know I’m not dead or missing. And to gloat that I am so-far correct in my previous assesment of the news content/quality. Now that Iraq is done and over, I want to share a qoute from Hermann Goering that I snagged from Snopes. History repeats itself when it’s intentionally ignored:

We got around to the subject of war again and I said that, contrary to his attitude, I did not think that the common people are very thankful for leaders who bring them war and destruction.

“Why, of course, the people don’t want war,” Goering shrugged. “Why would some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best that he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece. Naturally, the common people don’t want war; neither in Russia nor in England nor in America, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship or a Parliament or a Communist dictatorship.”

“There is one difference,” I pointed out. “In a democracy the people have some say in the matter through their elected representatives, and in the United States only Congress can declare wars.”

“Oh, that is all well and good, but, voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country.”

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mnsyttiu

3:47PM – I went to a biker rally this on Sunday, the money went to a veteran’s fund which is supposed to help the families of military men and women who go off to these war to uhh, protect our freedoms or whatever the hell the excuse is this week. I decided to wear my Get Your War On t-shirt just to confuse people. Those who knew what it meant would come over and actually talk to me about the war. And the ignorant masses who aren’t in tune with Internet pop culture would just laugh. Either way, I won. And besides, I got my picture taken with the local police (who also rode motorcycles, and were very friendly).

The bummer was that the gathering at the war memorial sucked badly. People got there, listened for a few minutes and just cruised off on their bikes. I took a few photos and talked to the mayor about the event. I decided to throw a pop quiz question at him and he actually knew the answer: Who is the only president in the past thirty years to actually increase veteran’s benefits? The answer is Bill Clinton. Sadly, most people dodge the answer harder than the question and immediately launch into an assault on Clinton. But between you and I, I think he was a damned good President, if he hadn’t fucking lied that is. I really don’t give a shit about the blowjob, just the lie.

Anyways, I’m on the road to Atlanta on Wednesday, I’ll be taking photos along the way just for the hell of it. I’ll see you next week. I’ll have an article then… for now, a teaser.

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Operation Iraqi Free-stuff; Domestically – SARS, Peterson, dog-gone

9:29AM – The looting has finally subsided but it looks like a lot of stolen artifacts are showing up in the US at Customs checks and other ports of entry. There are now rumours flying around that US tanks drove into a poor Iraqi neighborhood, told everyone to come out, then shot the guards and blasted open the doors to a government building and encouraged people to take what they wanted. This is a baffling proposition because if a commander had given orders like this to troops, then eventually the truth will come out when they come home from Iraq and at the very least the independent media is going to interview a soldier who can validate this claim. Unless some soldiers aren’t meant to come home.

The US seems pretty bogged down in gaining support for the WOT right now, there have been no WMDs found and mass media is trying to bounce around domestic issues in order to keep attention away from the Middle East. Meanwhile, there are protests in Baghdad calling for our troops to leave and for Iraqis to form an Islamic government. Call me crazy but there appears to be more people in the streets calling for this than there were toppling Saddam’s statue. But then, this may have been the US plan all along, because what may be brewing could be a large terrorist attack against troops a la Lebanon in 1984. Something of that magnitude would give the Bush administration the support it needs to go after Syria and stomp on them as it did with Iraq, Proof non-withstanding.

So there you have it. You probably don’t need to watch the news for the next few weeks, because all that’s going to be on is the Peterson trial, more SARS scares, that guy who saved his dog in Tennessee then got arrested for doing so, spin on the economy and last but not least… more fucking SARS.

Good night, gahbless.

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Bidding Colorado adieu

3:54PM – Sorry for not posting a new article, there’s not a lot of news that I’m interested in following these days. I finally got my Neuros MP3 player and have been toying with that. I’m going this afternoon to get a new stereo for my car since my old one crapped out this winter (it works but the display went out and I’m left to guessing what the hell I’m playing or listening to on the radio). I’m having the guy put in a front jack so that I can plug in the player. I don’t think I’ll ever know what is “popular” anymore now that I have sixty hours of music at my touch.

I other news, I gave notice at my current job and I’m moving back to Atlanta to work at NationalNet. I worked there for a year and a half before I got burnt out and had to do something else. My first assignment is to rewrite the decrepit billing software that they bought and add a simple feature… packages. It’s funny how some companies refuse to listen to their customers and add features when there’s a support contract a mile long. Enough about that, I’ll be back in Atlanta sometime next week, and starting the new (old?) job on cinco de mayo. It’s a good reason to get drunk, so I encourage everyone to block your cubicle with empty cases of Corona on seis de mayo.

As an added bonus for putting up with my laziness in the field of updating my website, I give you: some girl pseudo-masturbating (kinda safe for work) with some crazy Japanese PS2 controller. As Joe Stump would say: “mphhphmmm mmmphhhh mphh”. I need a girlfriend like that, kickass.

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Attention Syria, you’re next… move out now.

11:29AMThe Memory Hole has the scoop on a doctored photo from the London Evening Standard. It’s still amazes me that blatant lies like this are allowed to circulate relatively unchecked in the mainstream media, yet a photographer from the (liberal) Los Angeles Times edits a photo to enhance how it looks and the mouth-pieces for the Right go apeshit in denouncing him, even after he’s fired. INCONCEIVABLE!!!

10:23AM – I was talking to Joe about the new US direction and the rhetoric machine being oiled and aimed at Syria for another go in the MidEast and we came up with a quasi solution for the Syrian civilians so they don’t have to suffer the same fate as the Iraqis. Here’s a snippet of that transcript, note the LOL and HAHAHA was added later by CIA Cointelpro who are trying to discredit the anti-war movement (rolls eyes):


Stephen VanDyke: I think Syria should just move out of it’s country and see how the US reacts
Stephen VanDyke: like everyone
Stephen VanDyke: just move to Iraq
Joe Stump: that would be hysterical
Stephen VanDyke: leave some cardboard cutouts for the troops to shoot at
Stephen VanDyke: Hmm, I think I have the lead for my next article
Joe Stump: hahahaha
Joe Stump: i think so!
Joe Stump: “Syria migrates to Iraq”
Stephen VanDyke: bahaha
Stephen VanDyke: 3 million Syrian citizens crossed the border into Iraq today in an attempt to flee a foreseeable regime change by the US-led coalition of the willing.
Joe Stump: hahaha
Stephen VanDyke: Bush was qouted in a press interview as saying “OMG Syria is attacking Iraq, kill ‘em all”
Joe Stump: lol

So there you have it, the solution for Syria is for it’s citizens to move to Iraq, because Iraq has already been “liberated” and it would be redundant for us to invade twice.

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Show me the WMD: Alice in Wonderland

As Iraq continues to descend into anarchy and the US tries to lay down a roadmap for a new regime, things seem oddly familiar, in a storybook kind of way.

I had to look back in my Alice in Wonderland story to really comprehend the similarities of what I gleaned on earlier. And the resemblance to real life was incredible, it may be a simple coincidence, but perhaps someone was acting subconsciously. So here goes, Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, specifically the Queen’s court, and how it applies to today:

During the croquet match, the Queen (of Hearts) is ordering the beheadings of everyone and anyone, which is carried out by her executioner the Ace of Spades. However, the King of Hearts trumps the Queen and pardons everyone. Later in the story, Alice happens upon a trial where the Knave (Jack) of Hearts is accused of stealing the tarts. However the tarts have not actually been stolen and is evidenced by the letter:

I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.

Now before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to let you know that Alice was growing through the whole proceeding and was at this time her normal size. Meaning that she was much larger than the cards and the creatures and they could pose no harm to her, so she’s getting bold. Going on, the Queen is meaning to have someone killed today as she proclaims to the jury “sentence first — verdict afterwards”, meaning to go ahead and kill the Knave, and who really cares if he’s guilty or not, he’s dead.

Now, I want to draw a parallel between this story and what is occurring in America and the misnomer “War on Terror”. We are in the Queen’s court now, with the US at the throne. Saddam may be the Ace of Spades in the Iraqi ID deck, but in reality he’s the Knave. It doesn’t matter to the Queen that he’s in the same suit or not, he’s in court and he’s going to be killed. Alice in Wonderland mysteriously ended at this point and she woke up from her dream, but our nightmare is just beginning. We have gone down the forbidden road of “sentence first — verdict afterwards” and regardless of whether we can prove the tarts (WMDs) were stolen or existed in the first place, we have killed the Knave.

The irony here is that Alice in Wonderland is supposed to be a work of fiction, to instill morals into children and to make adults laugh at the absurdity of a mushroom psychedelic experience gone goofy. But when Alice comes to life, the results are disastrous, just as a grinning Cheshire cat appears and disappears at will, so do our enemies seem to appear in the oddest places. And it perturbs the US that we cannot simply order to “cut of his head” because the Cheshire cat decided not to show it’s body, just the head.

So here we are walking around Iraq, searching for the tarts, I mean weapons of mass destruction, the Iraqi common man is convinced that we are going to plant them. We are occupying a country we have no respect for, we don’t bother to save their museums and historical places from looters, but Heaven forbid you approach an oil field and you’ll be on your way to meet Allah or whoever you believe in. We’re holed up in a few government buildings in Baghdad, sparing them so that a new Iraq regime can be established, meanwhile we have already picked the new leader, and just as in Afghanistan, there will be no elections.

So where do we go from here? Syria is getting plenty of pressure and will probably be next. The rhetoric has gone to absurd levels again and the Whitehouse is simply waiting for the echo chamber of the loudest Right-Wing media to begin calling for another preemptive war. It no longer matters if 9/11 can be tied to anything, it’s whether the next conflict can be tied to the previous. Has so-and-so given aid to so-and-so? Then they should feel the wrath of America. Indeed, we are in the Queen’s court, and a kangaroo court it is. The jurors (UN) are inept and asleep at times and are told what verdict to give, only they are too dumb to write down a verdict in any fashion or to stand up and proclaim the absurdity of the case.

Alice is not silent, but she’s still only 3″ tall. And if you want to know who Alice is, it’s the world public. The collective morality of the people of the world are still the greatest superpower that ever existed, and the US ranks second. Except Alice is still sitting by the dormouse, barely whispering about the absurdity of the trial, and being relegated to watching the events of the court unfold.

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