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Any law which violates the inalienable rights of man is essentially unjust and tyrannical; it is not a law at all. - Maximilien Robespierre A Violently Executed Feed BUY SOME STUFF, MAKE ME HAPPY Contact me. Links and stuff Handshake Bloggers Damn Good Music
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Friday, April 30, 2004
When blimps attack! This one made me laugh so hard, I nearly choked on me sammich. The blimp which was up until this moment a fun toy here embarked on a career of evil. Using the artificial convection of my central heating, the blimp stealthily departed my office. It moved silently through the living and drifted to the staircase. Gliding wraithlike over the staircase it then entered the bedroom where my wife and I lay sleeping peacefully. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 2:39:00 PM   Friday 5 From ME! I was recently involved in an online discussion of Role Playing Games, and one participant began rhapsodizing about the latest Final Fantasy game for the Playstation 2. The rest of the participants in this discussion were old-school, pencil-and-paper gamers, and the sneer in response to that one guy's description of a video game as an RPG was similar to the reaction you'd get for bringing a bottle of "Night Train" to a wine tasting. So here's what I want to know, my Sinful Little Monkeys: What are the Top 5 things you're snobbish about? What things make you curl your lip, look down your nose and say, "Really! We don't do that here!" (1) Soulless covers of songs I consider "standards" - From Faith Hill's anemic attempt at Janis Joplin's "Piece of My Heart" to Madonna's mangling of "American Pie", and there's so many more. Any performer thinks they can do it, but almost none of 'em can, and they should know better than to try. Sure, Jimi Hendrix took "All Along the Watchtower" from Dylan and owned it, and SRV did the same thing with Jimi's "Little Wing", but those are (a) few and far between and (b) situations in which someone that's a fuckin' artist works with another artist's palatte. (2) Danielle Steele, Anne Rice and writers of their ilk - As a devotee of Science Fiction, I've been the subject of sneers regarding my taste in books, but I can't help it - Steele and Rice are creative typists, not writers. (3) The Jeebus Chainsaw Massacree - Known to most as "Mel Gibson's (4) People with spotty hygeine - I'm leaving aside the homeless, as they're not really in a position to do as much as others. No, I'm talking about adults that don't think their BO is a problem for the rest of us, or that think the way to cover up personal stank is to drench themselves in cologne or perfume. Bathe every day, or more often if you need it. Brush your teeth. There's this stuff called shamppo, I recommend you use it. Please, don't stank up the Earth - what with all the Bu$h apologists running around, it smells bad enough already. (5) Astrology, creationism, numerology, Nostradamus, UFOs and the like - Or, rather, belivers therein. The science is there, if folks won't use their brains about it, I can't help but sneer at them for being ignorant yokels. As a friend observed in her tagline on another forum, "Science: Observable AND Repeatable Since 1603!" Honorable mention (with considerably less justification) goes to LARPers, Ren Faire folk and others of similar ilks. The other Friday Fivers are, as always, listed to the left. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 1:27:00 PM Oh, my fuck, does this piss me off More Treasury agents tracking Castro than bin Laden. The Treasury Department has 21 agents chasing down businesses that violate the embargo of Cuba, and only 4 tracking down Al Quaeda money and Saddam Hussein's stolen assets combined. 'th FUCK? I mean, what the hell are they thinking? Cuba is small potatoes, and has been ever since the Soviets took their missiles back in '62. I understand the need to pander to the Cuban-American Anti-Castro Whacknoodle vote, and god knows Cuba's not got the nicest government on the planet, but I thought we were AT FUCKING WAR with the terrorists. Gets me so mad I wanna go after some elected officials with the Clue-by-four. Ain't gonna do that, of course, 'cause their security is too good for the likes of me. How can anyone trust these clueless bastards at all anymore? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:23:00 AM Entered without comment Got this from my friend Abby, and I honestly don't know what to make of it, save that it gots a monkey in it, and I likes me some monkeys: Little Red Monkey. Requires sound. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:21:00 AM Thursday, April 29, 2004
Because I can't say no to a good meme From mmmusings: Abortion?: I am personally made very uncomfortable by it, as I feel the grey areas are really wide. I do not, however, believe we should allow a minority of religious assbag zealots to dictate what is a matter of personal conscience. Death Penalty?: Another murky area - as currently applied, it's unfair, racially/economically biased and flat-out wrong. In general principle, as the punishment of last resort, it's sometimes necessary for the good of the State. I just don't know that it can be applied fairly enough to overcome my squeamishness. Prostitution?: Legalize it, subsidize it and tax the ever-lovin' FUCK out of it. If two consenting adults want to exchange money for sex, who am I to stop them? Alcohol?: Like it. Like it a lot. Just use your frickin' brain when you drink, and PACE YOUR BUZZ. Sloppy, vomiting, incoherent drunks are a major buzzkill. Marijuana?: Don't much care for it myself, but it's no worse than alcohol. Other drugs?: Think of it as Evolution in Action. Gay marriage?: I think that to define marriage by who isn't allowed to get married is hypocrisy, rank bigotry and flat-out wrong, buster. Illegal immigrants?: As long as we're hiring illegal immigrants, and it's the only way for them to get here, the market'll be there. I favor less restrictive immigration policies combined with mandatory education and job training for all Americans, immigrants or not. Smoking?: Yes, although I occasionally wish I could stop. Drunk driving?: See above: USE YOUR BRAIN. Cloning?: In my lifetime, we'll see cloned human beings. The genie's out of the bottle, and we can't put it back in. As long as clones get the same rights and opportunities as "nats", I don't see a problem. Racism?: A pernicious evil that can never be destroyed entirely, just fought against. Premarital sex?: Condoms. Can't say enough about condoms. And the Pill. Use yer big heads to think, kids. Religion?: Hey, if that's your bag, and you're not hurting anyone, go for it! Try to preach at me about God's plan for me, and I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll taste shoe leather. Capice? The war in Iraq?: A war that needed to have been fought 13 years ago, and one that could have been more intelligently planned. Bu$h's complete idiocy on this subject, though, has ruined America's reputation, killed hundreds of Americans and thousands of Iraqis. The damage it's done to the Middle East peace process is enough to make a sane man cry openly. Bush?: Idiot son of an asshole. The Smirking Chimp. Worst President - ever. Dumber than a bucket of rocks. Downloading music?: Not the threat to our economy some folks believe, it's also not an innocent practice. The "sharecropping system" the record companies use is a bigger threat to our artists, however. The legal drinking age?: Oughtta be 18 for those kids that can demonstrate responsibility and common sense. Porn?: I like it. Why, you got some to share? Consenting adults and all that, natch. Suicide?: Think of it as Evolution in Action. I've been damn close, and I hate the thought of someone else despairing that much, but it boils down to a personal choice. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 11:49:00 AM Back in the saddle, again I'm back in the office today, hoping Alec feels better and Melissa's not too stressed out. A wee bit cranky, because the frickin' DVR decided for no reason whatsoever to not tape "Angel" last night. Fortunately, I realized this 18 minutes into the episode, so we've got 42 minutes of it, but I'm pissed that we missed what looks like interesting stuff in the missing time. Got a new toy, too: The Center for American Progress' "Claims vs. Facts Database". Very useful when arguing with a 'Dinger, because it catalogues the statements of numerous Rethuglican operatives and apologists and compares 'em to the facts of the matter. F'r'instance: Topic: Iraq - Post-Invasion Speaker: White House Official Statement Date: 12/13/2003 Quote/Claim: "Our mission has broad support from the international community, including troops from 18 out of 25 current and future NATO countries." Fact: While the U.S. has over 160,000 troops in Iraq, the next largest force contingent is Britain, with about 9,000 troops. Additionally, since President Bush asked for more military help in September, not one additional new international soldier has been sent to Iraq. - UK Guardian, 12/12/03 Topic: Iraq - Post-Invasion Speaker: White House Official Statement Date: 12/13/2003 Quote/Claim: "At the Madrid donors' conference, 73 countries and 20 international organizations joined together and pledged over $30 billion for Iraq. Fact: "Six weeks after organizers of an international donors conference in Madrid said that more than $3 billion in grants had been pledged to help Iraq with immediate needs, a new World Bank tally verifies grants of only $685 million for 2004." - New York Times, 12/7/03 posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 10:18:00 AM Wednesday, April 28, 2004
What it's like at my house right now Alec's got an ear infection, which means that he gets Motrin every 6 hours, which means that for the two hours in the middle, he's feeling OK. The rest of the time, he's almost inconsolable. Out of the last 48 hours, Melissa and I have each slept about 6 or 7. Drew, meanwhile, is refusing to do his homework, despite loss of TV and computer priveleges, as well as loss of stories at bedtime. Franny is... well, Franny's four. Lots of acting out. I called in sick to work yesterday, and today I had scheduled off. I know my cow-irkers aren't too happy with me at the moment, but they'll just have to deal with it. Honestly, I'd much rather be in the office today than wrangling fussy, refusenik children. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 3:45:00 PM Tuesday, April 27, 2004
We Have Always Been At War With East Asia We've already found out that a coked-up deserter is more patriotic than a decorated veteran, and now we find that history is not what we think. Mick, over at Omnium, posted a piece about the way White House Re-Writes Presidential Histories. Seems they're not happy with the truth, that Thomas Jefferson founded the Democratic Party, detested Fundamentalists and strongly believed that Church and State should be separated by a wall of law and precedent. No, according to the White House version, Jefferson was a tax-cutting, small-government, Republican with a hate-on for Muslims. James Madison and others get the same historical rape. God-DAMMIT, I want that whole gang kicked out of office and brought up on charges. A few years in Federal Punch-You-In-The-Ass Penitentiary would do Bu$h, Cheney, Rove, Hughes and Rumsfeld a world of good. Is it just me, or should we expect the wholesale alteration of historical photographs in the near future? Who says the Soviets never had anything to teach us? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 4:49:00 PM OK, no, wait - lemme get this straight: The Bu$histas think Kerry has a spotty war record? And other observations of a world turned upside down. Karen Hughes, an individual with an almost psychotic dedication to lying for The Chimp, thinks John Kerry's distinguished war record bears closer scrutiny. No, really. She's apparently serious - she thinks that we should be concerned over three Purple hearts, a Bronze Star and a Silver Star, umm, because Kerry's a Democrat. And he speaks French. Or some crap like that. Hokay, fine, whateveryousay, Karen. We'll also take a closer look at Dim Son's war record, mmmm-K? Missed getting drafted, volunteered for the Texas Air National Guard's "Champagne Unit", then skipped a physical, went AWOL and got released from his commitment early. Riiiiiiiight. Unlike Clinton vs Bush I, or Dole, we can make a pretty even comparison between the situations and records. We're talking about two scions of weathy families, one of whom volunteered for hazardous duty in a morally murky war, saw the truth of that war and courageously spoke out against it. The other, meanwhile, used Poppy's connections to land a safe, cushy slot that he couldn't be bothered to finish, then spent the next 20-30 years getting Poppy's friends (and the House of Sa'ud, and the Bin Laden family) to finance bad investments and crappy start-ups. I mean, if they really think Cheney, who had "other priorities" during Vietnam, has a leg to stand on criticizing Kerry's service, they are seriously in La-La-Land. And, just in case there's a Freeper Idiot out there that thinks, "Ah! I've got him - he's a hypocrite because he didn't damn Bill Clinton and his penis to the depths of the Ninth Hell!", I will make this clear: I believed then and believe now that a dash of forthrightness would have saved Clinton a tremendous amount of hassle. Now, ficticious Freeper Troll, you may go fuck yourself. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 10:52:00 AM Monday, April 26, 2004
What's it like in my house right now? Melissa is upstairs writing. Drew is in his room, Not Putting On His Pajamas and Not Getting Ready for Bed. Franny is in her room screaming bloody murder, because she got sent to bed without stories (1 hour and counting - can anyone recommend a vocal coach? I think I'll sign her up for Opera lessons) for making a mess with dirt in the just-swept living room. I'm on the downstairs 'puter with a fussy baby in my lap - Alec's been running a fever today, and the ibuprofen is making him a wee bit cranky. Julie Beth, consider this some more birth control incentive. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:38:00 PM Nope, everything's hunky-dory here, Baas. Land of the free, and all that Unless, of course, you're a Muslim. Or queer. Or Black. Or Hispanic. Or poor. Or... well, you get the idea. A delightful little article in Salon today about the destruction of the dreams of a family living the American Dream. They had a successful business, deep roots in the community - everything was going great for them. Until 9/11, when they got caught up in the wave of deportations of Arabs ordered by John Ashcroft. Watch the ad to read the article, it's worth it. ... the Kesbehs have little chance of returning to Texas. They've joined the thousands of other Arab and Muslim immigrants deported from America since Sept. 11, in one of the largest mass expulsions in American history. In the weeks and months after the terrorist attacks, Attorney General John Ashcroft launched a series of crackdowns aimed specifically at illegal immigrants from Muslim countries. Thousands were rounded up and detained, often for months, and around 20,000 were put into deportation proceedings. More are being added every day. Many of them have children who are American citizens, forcing them into a brutal choice: Either uproot their kids, or leave them behind. "It's very common," says Sam Quiah, community organizer for the Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund, a nonprofit whose attorneys have represented many post-9/11 deportees. "Families are being torn apart."Once the government began treating immigration violations as a corollary of terrorism, there was little room to take individual circumstances into account. The Kesbehs, parents and children alike, were from the Middle East, and they were in the United States illegally. It didn't matter that they'd broken no other law, that Sharif always paid taxes on his business (much of which involved, of all things, selling American flags). It didn't matter that the kids knew no home but Houston. Whoopee! Don't it make ya proud ta be an American? I figure we woulda learned from our treatment of the nisei back in WWII, but as always, I place too much faith in logic, common sense and human decency. So I'll say it again - WE CANNOT AFFORD TO LET THE CHIMP WIN ANOTHER ELECTION. You guys with me? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 11:30:00 AM WHEEEEEE! So I arrive at work this AM to find that our email/LAN systems were migrated to new servers. How does this affect me? I was unable to log into the network, I can't access my email and I can't access the system we use for me to DO MY FUCKING JOB. No ETA on when it'll be fixed, either. So, I sit here at my desk, knowing that when I can finally log back on, I'll have a huge fuckin' backlog to deal with. Thanks, IT! Thanks for making everything go smoothly! posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:22:00 AM Sunday, April 25, 2004
Cleaning The In-Laws (may their years be many and their prosperity increase) have taken the big kids to the San Antonio Zoo for the day. Melissa's taking a nap, Alec's almost asleep, and I'm about to get down & dirty cleaning house. Yes, ladies, that's right. I clean house, I cook and I only occasionally break wind in bed. You may desire me now. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 3:48:00 PM Saturday, April 24, 2004
If they get to try to influence our elections, does that mean we can pick the next Pope? First the Saudis throw their oil behind Bu$h, promising to pump more oil in October and November so gas prices will dip right before the election. Fine, motherfuckers - Americans outside the White House know where your loyalties lie, and sooner or later, you're gonna be out of oil. Where will you be then, you theocratic, thuggish tyrants? Now, we find out that the Vatican has decided to deny communion to politicians that support Abortion Rights. Who's the only Catholic running for president this time around? John Kerry. You do the math. The Roman Catholic Church hasn't said jack-fuckin' shit about Catholic politicians that support the Death Penalty or the war in Iraq, both of which the Pope has opposed in very strong language. The church still hasn't done a damn thing to show they're serious about ending their complicit acceptance of priests that abuse their position by engaging in sexual relations with children. Coming when it does, it's pretty damn clear that the RCC wants to get someone in office here that'll work closer to their misogynistic, homophobic, child-rapist-protecting ideals. Fine, you want this, we can make it a war. How many divisions does the Pope have, again? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 1:49:00 PM Friday, April 23, 2004
Eulogy for The Perfect Sammich I'm mourning the loss of the Best Sammich Ever. It was a double decker, garlic roast beef with slabs of red leicester cheese, spicy mustard,a dash of horseradish, thick dill pickle slices, juicy organic tomatoes, sweet onion rings, a teensy bit of garlic paste on thick slices of sourdough rye. It was beautiful - I almost went and got the camera to take a picture of it. I had lightly toasted it and carefully wrapped it in wax paper (preserves the taste better than plastic, ya know) and set it on the counter to pack up with the rest of my lunch. Alec fell over and bumped his head on the floor (a distance of only about 8", but a big deal for him), so I ran to comfort him. In the 30 seconds I was gone, the dog slipped into the kitchen and with great precision tore a very neat hole in the end of the wax paper, slipped the sandwich out and left the empty husk of the wrapper on the counter, like the carapace of a cicada larva perched on a tree branch. I stood there staring at the remains of my sandwich - not even crumbs left on the counter - almost in tears. I had 10 minutes to leave for work and we were out of red leicester. No time to make another. The dog was cowering under the table, so I grabbed the wax paper husk and waved it at her, saying, "Bad dog! Never eat my sandwich! No, no, no!" which I'm sure did no good whatsoever, but I was angry. No sandwich, I fear, will ever be as delicious or delightful as the one I will not have for lunch at work tonight. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 4:32:00 PM Friday 5 From Laura: For the past few years I've been compromising my hopes for a career and job I enjoy in preference to work a job that can relocate me to different countries and cultures. The exchange hasn't really paid off as I've spent a lot of time feeling miserable about the job. However, I'm about to play a gamble, which, if it pays off, wouldn't only get me to work into an exotic culture (namely Asia) and in a job which I actually want to do. If it fails, I will be jobless, homeless and penniless. But the point is, I believe the possible benefits are worth the risk. So in a true oriental spirit, my question is this: Name five ways to bring happiness to your life. Explain how you would go about to achieve them; what would you be willing to risk - and will you? Happiness. That's always seemed more transitory, which is why I aim for joy, which to me comprises both the sweet and the bitter. So, in that vein, what things bring me joy? (1) Time with the kids is a given. I get frustrated with them sometimes, when they're all tired and whiny and I'm tired and all I want is ten minutes alone to catch my breath after a day at work, but other times, their energy and enthusiasm is a delight to watch. (2) Scrabble with Melissa. or Trivial Pursuit with Melissa. Or sitting and cataloguing my comics while talking with Melissa. Damn, that woman's superb. (3) Books. New books. Old books. Books, books, books. For me, there are few things as thrilling as finding good books I haven't read yet. Sometimes I read some bad ones, but I always make myself finish them. Well, except for that awful fantasy series my college roommate tried to foist off on me. Can't even recall the title now, but it made Terry Brooks look like a fresh, original writer. (4) The blog. I've made this a daily thing because I enjoy writing it, and I'm hoping I can translate this discipline into more regular writing in the future. Right now, though, I'm just digging it. (5) Gaming. I've been playing RPGs since 1980, and I don't think I'll slow down any time soon. I like creating campaigns, making maps, playing characters and every other part of gaming, including quoting Monty Python, telling War Stories and drinking lots of soft drinks. Honorable mentions: Canoeing, travel, goin' out and drinkin' beer and eating good BBQ. The other Friday Fivers are listed, as always, to the left. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:34:00 AM Thursday, April 22, 2004
Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones: Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so That heaven's vault should crack! The death of Gwen Araujo. It's a rather disturbing read, but guaranteed to get your blood boiling. When I hear some right-wing whackaloon whining that the very existence of homosexuality is some bizarre form of oppression, I see red. Dammit, the right wing doesn't have to worry about getting beaten to death just for who they are. Gangs of gays don't roam the cities of America engaging in casual "straight-bashing". It was Matthew Shepherd that was pistol-whipped and crucified on a barbed-wire fence, not a couple of straight guys. Friends of mine, good friends, have to worry about assault, verbal and otherwise, when they go for a walk. The transgendered have it even worse than that. And yet these privileged assholes think that they have the slightest clue as to what it's like. Me? I'm lucky - I'm bisexual, but I can "pass". I fell in love with and married a woman, I've got 3 beautiful kids - folks look at me and think "straight". Lots of people I know aren't so lucky. We've got a president that's got his head firmly buried up the collective asses of a small group of bigots, a president that thinks nothing of casually consigning millions of Americans to second-class status (and I ain't just talkin' 'bout the queers, here - women, minorities, left-wingers - you're all on the list, and you know it as well as I do). Our Congress is seriously debating a Constitutional amendment that would decide for us whether or not we can marry those we love. Our Supreme Court is pretty tightly split on whether or not gays are entitled to the protections everyone else enjoys, and there's a good chance that if Bu$h gets reelected, he's going to get to appoint some more justices like Fat Tony Scalia. I know I'm preaching to the choir - I'm just tired of reading about my people getting beaten and killed, and I had to get it off my chest. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 1:22:00 PM Gaaaah Working solo in the office today, which means the spittle-flecked rant I'm working on will be delayed. Talk amongst yourselves while I work on it, 'K? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:51:00 AM Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Random news and idiocy White Plains, NY - Woman convicted of stabbing husband. What's idiotic about it? Seems she stabbed him while playing a game that involved his being blindfolded and handcuffed. She apparently wanted to be rid of her husband so she could be with her lover, whose ex-girflfriend died under mysterious circumstances. Rowan County, NC - Ford vs. Chevy goes too far. A man driving a pickup truck with tags registered to a Chevy dealership shot down a blimp advertising a local Ford dealership with a shotgun. No word on whether the pickup had one of those stickers of the little kid pissing on a Ford logo, but I know where my money's goin' on that one. Massillon, OH - Tired of speeders in front of your house? Beartrap their asses. A local resident got tired of speeders, so he dug an 8-inch trench across the road to force 'em to slow down. What a dumbass. You'd need to make it at least a foot deep to do any real damage to the cars. Kansas City, KS - 1. Pick up laundry. 2. Pay gas bill. 3. Rob bank. - Bank robber pleads guilty to 6 robberies. Part of the evidence the police had was a to-do list they found in his home that included "rob bank". posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 10:28:00 AM Favorite Lyrics Been working on a mix of political/protest songs, and in my searching and tweaking, I listened to "Alice's Restaurant" by Arlo Guthrie. Damn, but that song's funny. Been listening to it every Thanksgiving for years, and I never get tired of it. This song is called Alice's Restaurant, and it's about Alice, and the restaurant, but Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant, that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song Alice's Restaurant. You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant Walk right in it's around the back Just a half a mile from the railroad track You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and Fasha the dog. And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin' all that room, seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't have to take out their garbage for a long time. We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the city dump. Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage. We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw our's down. That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, "Kid, we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." And I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope under that garbage." After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the police officer's station. So we got in the red VW microbus with the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the police officer's station. Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at the police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal for being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us out and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again, which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid. Get in the back of the patrol car." And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars, being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station. They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and they took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not to mention the aerial photography. After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?" Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice (remember Alice? It's a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a few nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court. We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog. And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry, 'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the judge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats not what I came to tell you about. Came to talk about the draft. They got a building down New York City, it's called Whitehall Street, where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. `Cause I wanted to look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York, and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604." And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill, KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL." And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy." Didn't feel too good about it. Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections, detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there, and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got one question. Have you ever been arrested?" And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre, with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever go to court?" And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W .... NOW kid!!" And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly 'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay $50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?" And I said, "Littering." And they all moved away from me on the bench there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I said, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand, and we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing, father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of things, until the Sargeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held it up and said. "Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna- know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing- you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting- officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there, and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the following words: ("KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?") I went over to the sargent, said, "Sargeant, you got a lot a damn gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench 'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the army, burn women, kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me and said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints off to Washington." And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into the shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say "Shrink, You can get anything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out. You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said fifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement. And that's what it is , the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, and all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the guitar. With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and sing it when it does. Here it comes. You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant Walk right in it's around the back Just a half a mile from the railroad track You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud. I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired. So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part harmony and feeling. We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing. All right now. You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant Excepting Alice You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant Walk right in it's around the back Just a half a mile from the railroad track You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant Da da da da da da da dum At Alice's Restaurant posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:57:00 AM Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Random Text Courtesy of Julie: 1. Grab the nearest book. 2. Open the book to page 23. 3. Find the fifth sentence. 4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions. "Goodman's intuition, the other detectives call it." - The Illuminatus! Trilogy - Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson Heh. FNORD posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 7:00:00 PM Reminder Contest entries are still being accepted. Read here for details on how to enter. So far, I've got 4 entries. Come on! Who can pass up homemade chocolate chip cookies AND a Glam Rock mix CD? posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 12:25:00 PM Skullduggery and Sleaze According to Bob Woodward, the Saudi Yet another good reason to push like hell for greater fuel efficiency. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 10:07:00 AM Monday, April 19, 2004
The Bu$histas Tacitly Support Death Threats Maybe a provocative headline, I'll admit, but still: After John Ashcroft tried to pass the buck on 9/11 to (big shocker here, folks) the Clinton Administration (and, by extension, Clinton's Penis), we find that 9/11 Commission member Jamie Gorelick received death threats aimed at getting her to resign from the commission. This was more of the usual balderdash we've come to expect from the right's more thuggish and dimwitted members, of course. First, Ashcroft claimed that Gorelick was specifically responsible for the "wall" between intelligence and criminal investigations, and that this wall prevented the open sharing of information that could have pevented 9/11. Shortly thereafter, Tom DeLay, the Bug-Fucker from Sugarland started bleating that Gorelick should resign from the Commission. Almost immediately thereafter, Rove's spin machine kicked into high gear as the blithering idiots that call themselves "conservative pundits" picked up the call. Within hours, Gorelick began receiving a huge number of hate emails. On Saturday, someone called her house and threatened to blow it up, with her and her family inside, if she didn't resign from the Commission. A close examination of two simple facts regarding Gorelick's history dispels any and all concerns about her participation on the Commission: (1) During the Reagan and Bush I administrations, after a series of Appeals court rulings, it was decided that specific protections needed to be in place between intelligence investigations (in which the requirements for wiretaps are much lower) and criminal investigations (which require more stringent standards of proof ) in order to avoid reversals of convictions on appeal. (2) Gorelick was Deputy Attorney General during the first Clinton Administration, and did write a memo clarifying the ways in which that wall operated, in fact providing clarification in order to allow that wall to be breached more often. Gorelick has specifically recused herself from portions of the Commission's work involving her tenure at DoJ, and is regarded by many on the Commission as something of a "workhorse" - she is relentless in her pursuit of the facts in this investigation, and is supported by both Democrat and Republicna members of the Commission. Let us not forget that Bu$h and co. fought like hell to keep the COmmission from being formed in the first place, and have fought tooth and nail every step of the way to prevent damaging information from being released as the Commission continues its work. Witnesses that offer accounts that differ from the Party Line are subjected to blatant smear attacks, and the whole Condi Rice debacle shows that the Bu$histas will only provide free and open testimony to the Commission when their feet are held to the fire. So, looking again at Ashcroft's accusations, it seems we've got two primary interpretations: (1) Ashcroft is a fuckin' moron, and doesn't understand what the hell he's talking about - Appealing on many levels, but it is contradicted by his actions, in which he displays a clear understanding of what he's doing and saying, no matter how warped it may be. (2) Ashcroft was deliberately trying to discredit the findings of the Commission in advance, knowing that he and the rest of the Bu$histas are on the verge of going down in flames, as the American public discovers more and more of their deliberate efforts to shut down efforts against Al Quaeda prior to 9/11, and their almost pathological focus on Iraq instead of any real threats. Dear God, we've gotta get rid of these scumbags in November. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:39:00 AM Sunday, April 18, 2004
What's Governor Assbag Up To Now? Finally, 3 years later, he's deigning to address School Finance. We should be happy about this, right? Er, no. See, here's the deal - Texas' school finance situation is seriously fucked up. Almost all financing of the schools comes from local districts. This means that Eanes can afford everything but gold-plated fixtures in the Teachers' Lounge, while Pecos County can barely afford the toilet paper. SOme years ago, the Lege (a living example of how groups make the average IQ drop precipitously) decided that, rather than finding more money in the state budget for education, they'd do two things: (1) A Lottery - taxing the ignorant. It's worked, mostly, although it's a special tax that doesn't hit the folks with money to burn. (2) Take money from wealthy districts and distribute it to poor districts - The so-called "Robin Hood Plan". The RHP has, oddly enough, caused some serious anger, and it's pretty much doomed this time around, now that the Rethuglicans have a lockdown on the Lege. For those outside of Texas, some background: Texas doesn't have an income tax. It's a gesture of political suicide surpassed only by advocating bestiality in terms of quickly ending your career to suggest it in Texas. Governor Assbag wants to fix this. How? Well, first by eliminating Robin Hood. Second, by eliminating class size restrictions, refusing decent raises for teachers and allowing districts to exempt themselves from teacher certification and curriculum requirements. Thirdly, odds are he's going to push for vouchers. Vouchers, one of the stupidest ideas to be proposed by the Loony Right. Yes, as our cash-strapped schools flounder and sink, Governor Assbag wants to take more money out of the system because John Q. Dimwit can't stand the thought of his children having to go to school with colored folks and learn about evolution. John Q. Dimwit also can't afford to send his kids to private school, because his manufacturing job got sent to Malaysia so the corporations' CEO could get a big, fat stock bonus. John Q. Dimwit wants the state to give him money for private school, and the Rethuglicans'll give it to him if they can, because they know idiots like John Q. Dimwit will always vote for them. Hence the moniker "John Q. Dimwit". Assbag's made it clear that he "can accept school vouchers", but we figured as much - last winter, Governor Assbag took a lice Bahamas cruise to plot strategy. One James Leininger picked up the tab for the trip. James Leininger is the main sponsor of pro-voucher groups in the state. In Texas politics, of course, you dance with them what brung you. In this case, I'm pretty sure that Mr. Leininger will be getting all the dances, a handjob in the mens' room and a blow job in the limo. Metaphorically speaking, of course. So, Texas readers, you know the drill: Call your representative and let 'em know that they are under no circumstances to vote for vouchers, and let 'em know that you'll support an income tax earmarked for school funding. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:31:00 AM Good PvP Yesterday's PvPonline is a good example of why Melissa has respectfully requested that I never carry a sword with me. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:20:00 AM Saturday, April 17, 2004
Check this out Chris over on Pressure Valve has a detailed, sequential breakdown of The Chimp's major fuckups. Read it. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 7:48:00 AM Friday, April 16, 2004
A lesson about getting your hopes up Saw this headline in a UK paper: Ban on 'Idiots and Lunatics' Sparks Electoral Row. The dateline was in Northen Ireland, and I thought to myself, "SWEET! Ian Paisley won't be allowed to vote any more!" No such luck. Seems they're just using insulting language to prevent the mentally ill and retarded from voting. Which means the Unionists and the IRA dipshits will still be voting there. Better luck next time, I guess. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 12:40:00 PM Friday 5 Rob, a Nosy Parker if there ever was one, wants to know: What are the five most irredeemably stupid things you have done, so far. I mean things that had you change your name to Mr/Mrs/Miss Thick Astwoshortplanks, no face saving possibilities, no head in the sand denial helped and no 'All's Well That Ends Well' solutions. Come on, cough up. Rich description is required. As usual, in no particular order: (1) My first girlfriend - I was in college, and had never before then even been remotely social. First real relationship, first sexual experience, and I made the classic blunder (no, not a land war in Asia) - I fell in love, and it was just a Bad Scene all around. She had abandonment issues, fidelity issues and a hankerin' for marijuana. I had trust issues, anger issues (I know you're all shocked about that) and didn't much care for the potheads I knew (they all being possessed of limited conversational ability). Suffice it to say that, in the end, things ended horribly, with at least one "Cry For Help" moment, multiple screaming arguments with each other in public and (for me) such a dislike of the entire concept of First Girlfriend that I get uncomfortable around women with the same name. I ran into her once, right before we moved out of Birmingham, and she was very friendly - I got the feeling she had moved on, but for me, there was way too much negative energy still attached, and I had burned every bridge behind me that I could. (2) I can't narrow it down much more than this, but there are multiple instances in which I've just opened my mouth and said something that seems clever and witty but is really, in fact, the Absolute Worst Thing To Say. Things that, in average company, would be maaayyybe on the edge of polite conversation, but in the circumstances in which I open my mouth, are the social equivalent of taking a dump in the punchbowl. The stupid thing is, I'm usually not drinking when I say them. I just don't always have my Social Filters engaged, and thus don't think to self-edit. (3) Gonna have to go with Third Girlfriend. The initial relationship wasn't bad - we were both really after One Thing (nudge, nudge, say no more) and that phase went well, but I was stupid enough to think that being together longer meant that we would naturally grow closer. I didn't fall In Love this time (let's call it "Greatly Affectionate"), and again I was dumb enough to get involved with someone with a penchant for gettin' chronic. Don't think I'm some kind of holy roller with a hate on for pot - many friends (and some close relatives) are frequent users - I just don't much care for it, nor do I enjoy the types of conversations one has while stoned. My anger/jealousy issues popped in for an extended visit, and once again, Things Fell Apart, messily. We've spoken since then, and while we won't ever be good friends, there's none of the stomach-roiling need for avoidance there is with First Girlfriend. (4) It's after midnight, in Atlanta, GA. I'm 15 miles from my apartment, I've been drinking steadily since about 7 PM, and I've got car keys. Despite a complete lack of accidents or arrests on the way home (what's that about Fools and Drunks?), it's still something that I wake up in a cold sweat over because of all the close calls I had. I-285 in Atlanta shouldn't be attempted when you're fuckin' SOBER, and after midnight is when the semis come tearing through town. That I'm alive is sure proof that a higher power has Plans for me. (5) August, 1982. We've just moved from Atlanta, GA to a small town called Woodland. Some local kids have shown us a large patch of kudzu, and we're all jumping into it from the branch of a large oak tree. The way to jump into kudzu, for those that have no direct experience with this vine, is to spread your body out so it's caught in as much of the network of small vines as possible. I, in my infinite wisdom, decide not to do this, opting instead to angle my body as if I were jumping into water from a great height, even pointing my toes. I can't explain WHY I thought this a wise choice, but I blame the Soviet Orbital Mind Control Lasers. The upshot is that I find myself on the ground, screaming in pain with (I later discover) a broken ankle. 2 months in a cast & on crutches, and my goddamn ankle still hurts like a motherfucker when it rains. Might not be exactly what Rob was after, but it's the best he's gonna get. The other Fivers are listed to the left. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 6:44:00 AM Thursday, April 15, 2004
The Goddamn Fundies Just Don't Get It Gavin Newsom faces "the wrath of God", according to San Francisco clergy. Newsom was not too concerned about his purported date with Hellfire, but we did get to hear some Bigots of the Cloth utter some simply FABULOUS bits of idiocy: the Rev. Chuck McIlhenny, the pastor of the First Orthodox Presbyterian Church in San Francisco, said government-sanctioned same- sex marriages are what happens "when the wicked seize a city.'' Well let's GO, then! Come on, all you wicked folks out there! Let's seize some more cities! "Anyone who speaks out against homosexuality is discriminated against. Churches are firebombed. It happens in San Francisco,'' said McIlhenny Funny - I don't recall hearing of any firebombings in San Francisco lately. Seems I hear about more gay-bashing that attacks on churches. But what do I know? I'm only an intelligent, well-read rationalist, so I can't speak to the deluded fantasies of persecution indulged in by close-minded little bigoted shits. The Rev. Arthur McKay, president of the San Francisco Baptist Ministers Conference, said he and other African American church leaders resent it when comparisons are made between the same-sex marriage crusade and the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. "They (gay rights leaders) have hijacked the civil rights train,'' McKay told the crowd. "This is not a civil rights issue. It's a moral issue.'' Gee, Rev. McKay. So sorry we're rustling your sacred cow. I didn't know you had a monopoly on the concept of civil rights. My father, who did his time out on the front lines, thankyouverymuch, seems to think differently. You are half right at the end, there - it's BOTH a civil rights issue AND a moral issue. Civil rights is a moral issue - is it moral to treat one group of people as less than equal, just because you're made uncomfortable by them? Not in my book. "Even the great majority of nonchurched Asians, Afro Americans and Hispanics are for traditional marriage and are offended that radical gay rights activists have hijacked the civil rights movement,'' [Rev. Thomas Wang of the Bay Area Chinese Ministerial Prayer Fellowship.] said. Oh, well I'm sure they're glad you came to speak for them. Lemme ask ya, though - did they sign any release forms saying you could speak for them, or are you just assuming you do? "We pray for the mayor every day,'' said the Rev. Bud Silva, pastor of the Fundamental Baptist Church of Santa Maria. Gee, Bud - can I call you Bud? Thanks! Anyway, thanks. That's touching. Could you tell me one thing, since we're such good pals now? What of the poor? You feeding those guys all right? I mean, if you guys have so much time you can take off from doing God's work in ministering to them as need help now, the Bay Area must be devoid of sad, lonely, desperate and/or poor folks that need help, right? I seem to recall the Jesus spent a hell of a lot more time helping those guys out than he did threatening mayors with eternal damnation. But that's just me, ya know? What did Gavin Newsom have to say about this? Darlene Chiu, a spokeswoman for the mayor, said Newsom was not converted by his evangelical visitation. "The mayor believes marriage is between two people who love each other,'' Chiu said. Rock on, Gavin Newsom. Keep the faith. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 1:30:00 PM Don't watch this while you're drinking a Coke Carbonated beverage shooting out your nose HURTS. Thanx to Maggie, I've discoved this: Jesus Christ Action Figure. Yer gonna need sound posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 11:15:00 AM His Biggest Mistake The Center for American Progress wants us to help! Take this poll to send The Chimp a reminder about his biggest cock-up during this administration. I guess "Deciding to go into politics in the first place" wasn't a realistic option for the poll. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:41:00 AM Wednesday, April 14, 2004
New Contest We're fast approaching 20,000 hits on the blog, and I once again want to indulge my fetish for round numbers. This time, I'll mail homemade cookies (chocolate chip) and a mix CD of some spiffy Glam Rock classics to the person that comes closest to guessing the day and time my counter rolls over 20,000. Email me with the subject line "A VIOLENTLY EXECUTED CONTEST". All I need is a date and time (rounded to the nearest hour). I'll close out entries when we reach 19,000 hits. In the case of multiple winners, I'll do a random drawing. Any questions? Use the comment field. And I'll even give you a hint - Sitemeter predicts that I'll hit 20K sometime in June. Slateface - I haven't forgotten you. A replacement will be ordered and shipped to you as soon as I've sorted out some money issues. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 9:04:00 AM Scraping together my loose change Why? Because someone's auctioning off a Second Quarto edition of "Hamlet". I know what I want from Santa (OK, so I'd like Kate Beckinsale and Bernadette Peters to deliver it to me, but that'd just be icing on the cake, so to speak). posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:40:00 AM That Colored Fella on $hrub's performance last night George W. Bush proved tonight, that he is to Bill Clinton, what William Hung is to Ricky Martin. Bush is to the Great Communicator, Ronald Reagan, what Kelly Clarkson is to Aretha Franklin. I'll be commenting on a transcript of The Chimp's performance later on, but I just had to post that commentary. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 8:17:00 AM Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Hurm. The Hour of The Scampering already?
You are Kosh. A reclusive seer shrouded in riddles, you reveal very little and only what is deemed congruent with your plans. Understanding is a three edged sword. Your side, their side, and the truth. posted by Adam C. Lipscomb at 11:10:00 PM |
