Dirty Old Man

I'll admit it. I try to always go to the tobacconist on Thursdays because that's when the mid-twenties punky girl with septum ring and half sleeve is working. And she tends to wear thin white shirts with a black bra.

Is 33 too young to be a dirty old man? It's hard to tell if it is genetic or a learned trait. My dad started me off at the tender age of six months old. He'd take me to the park while my mom was working. There he would use me as bait to get young gals in low cut shirts to bend over in front of us with, "Oh, aren't you the cutest little baby? Yes you are. Yes you are." My grandfather was also a dirty old man who got into all kinds of trouble at the nursing home. So I'm at least third generation dirty old man. I bet it goes back a lot further than that.

Why is any of this relevant? Why should I mention it here? I just thought people should know that my mind works like Clinton's, Kennedy's, and Jefferson's. Considering the kind of great people that were dirty old men, there should be a club. I therefore proclaim the formation of the Social Order of Dirty Old Men! Who's with me? Who wants to be a SODOMite?

Tsunami!

Samoa quake causes small tsunami.

Thanks to my activities this summer, my first thought was, "Dude! I bet New Zealand's gonna get some killer surf."

Devil's Playground

Maybe there is some truth to the old adage, "Idle hands are the Devil's playground." While doing nothing, I kept thinking about evil. Not evil thoughts but thoughts about evil.

Like noted before, Hitler never killed a Jew but his followers did it for him. Bush never killed a Muslim but his followers have done it for him. Manson never killed anyone but his followers did it for him. Jesus never killed anyone but some of his followers...

Luckily, I have no followers. At least I don't think I do. If I do, please don't kill anyone. And when I say don't kill anyone I mean don't kill ANYONE! But only if you're a follower of mine.

Because maybe that's what evil really is, not thinking for yourself. Followers have done a lot of stupid things just because someone told them to do it. Don't be afraid of Bush, be afraid of those people with W stickers in their rear windows. Don't follow them. Change lanes.

But here's yet another interpretation. In the past 2,000 years, how many wars and mass exterminations have been started in the name of or with the supposed support of God? Allah? Buddha? Even the atheistic communists of the former Soviet Union had a go at death camps. Mass scale slaughter. Now how many wars and mass exterminations in the past two millennia were started in the name of or with the supposed support of Satan? How many death camps were set up by Wiccans to rid the world of infidels? Even the Thelemites with their, "Man has the right to kill those who would thwart these rights," how many holy crusades and inquisitions are hidden in their closets?

Seriously, if you can come up with one mass scale atrocity promulgated by Satanists, Witches, Hermetic Magicians, or even agnostics please comment or drop me a line. (Address at right.) Just don't start following me if you see truth in what I say. That would just be evil.

On Being Evil

Yesterday I was thinking about how evil I am. What should chance upon my wanderings today but a test to determine my evilness.

You Are 80% Evil

You are very evil. And you're too evil to care. Those who love you probably also fear you. A lot.

How Evil Are You?

But I take some exception to a few of the questions. Such as asking if I would kill for a million dollars if I was guaranteed not to get caught. That's not evil, it's psychotic. Evil is convincing someone else to do it for you and not sharing in the responsibility. Did Hitler ever gas a Jew? Hell no! He had other people do that for him. George W. Bush has never tortured an enemy combatant to extract information. He's evil and has other people do it for him. And last night when a co-worker wanted to prank someone's tool box, I didn't pitch in and help. I merely gave him suggestions as to how to seal the tool box and then mix oil, coolant, and raw rivets for the biggest possible mess to clean up. Because I am a lot more evil than a mere 80%.

Do Nothing Month

I am accepting the challenge! I declare October as Do Nothing Month. For the entire month of October I will spend at least 30 minutes every day doing nothing. This is followed by National Novel Writing Month. Last year as a NaNoWriMo participant I wrote Black Whole Son. This year I will spend November writing about my experience spending a month doing nothing.

Olbermann's Comment regarding the Clinton Interview

How can this guy comment for ten minutes straight on such a short news media event and manage to keep me engaged? He does it.

Crowley and 9/11

Did the occultist Aleister Crowley prophecize the attacks on the World Trade Center in Liber Al vel Legis (The Book of the Law)? The 911 Origami Prophecy presents their case. It's an occult twist on the well known bill folding exercise that purportedly shows the WTC burning. But this one uses $1 as a talisman and then $5-$100 sequentially as a story. Though I'm surprised they didn't grab the line; "III,7: I will give you a war-engine," as supporting evidence.

Nothing At All

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours doing nothing. I'm really good at it. Some folks say they've done nothing when what they've really done is watched TV, read a book, or maybe went for a walk. That's doing something. I just sat in a chair staring off blankly. It wasn't a sitting meditation. Meditation implies either focusing on a single thought or trying to clear your head of all thoughts. I didn't do that. My brain continued to wander and play out its thoughts unhindered by any effort on my part. I did nothing. What really amazes me about doing nothing is just how active the brain can be when not engaged by anything. There seems to be a fear of idleness in our culture. Let me suggest that everyone should do what they need to do and then try doing nothing for a while.

Welcome to the Devil's Playground.

South Park Character Generator

Thanks to Jewbacca for linking the new South Park Character Generator.

LEAP

This 13 minute video from Law Enforcement Against Prohibition explains why all drugs should be legal, from a cop's point of view.

Journal Entry

Was looking through an old journal and found something I'd like to share.

There's something inside me that wants out. It wants expression. I get this feeling often. I've had it for years now, off and on. It gives me this feeling that if I could just locate it and start the release process, all would fall into place. Some sort of chain reaction would take place that would propel itself out into eternity. At least my eternity. Have I seen it, felt it before? I want to say yes. I want to say that what needs release has its roots in something lost. No certainty of that, though. And even if that does hold true, I have no certainty that this lost bit comes from this incarnation's history. For that matter I hold no certainty that other incarnations have ever occurred. The lost bit could even come from some parallel existence. And that also raises doubts of its validity. No certainties anywhere. Just feelings and notions. On one day I can feel completely satisfied with my current state and then I wake up the next day with notions of regret. Do we merely make choices and proceed from them like some damn choose-your-own-adventure novel? Do we have options in front of us that we may deem right or wrong and will ultimately determine some sort of success or failure? I have no answers and feel like no one else does either. Perhaps some people just get lucky and call it truth.

Heed the words of the prophet. I know nothing and neither do you.

WWJD

The weekend is here and I think everyone is asking the same question.

What Would Jake Drink?

It's a beer weekend, folks. Right now there are two local beers rockin' my world. The first is Dead Guy Ale by Rogue. Everybody loves Dead Guy. From the folks who prefer a straight up American beer to the micro brew afficianados, Dead Guy Ale is a crowd pleaser. The other is Arrogant Bastard by Stone Brewing Company. This one is not for pansies. It pushes a strong combination of malt and hops to the limits of sanity and is high octane to boot.

A good night is a 22 of Arogant Bastard to kick start you followed by a jug of Dead Guy. That way when the cops catch you stumbling naked down the street you can say, "Honest officer. I've only had two beers."

Act Your Age

My 33rd birthday is only a few weeks away. Yesterday I got carded. It wasn't just a typical card everybody moment. The waitress at Acrop asked if I knew what I wanted then looked up from her note pad at my face and said, "Actually, I need to see your ID." I kept from busting out laughing.

For the first time in years I know exactly what I am going to do for my birthday. I'm going surfing. Mid-September to mid-August is the best time of year for the North Oregon coast. Storm swells are building off the coast while Easterly winds prevail, creating excellent waves averaging 7-12 feet. Once winter hits the waves get scary, 10-20 feet and some days are even bigger. In a year or two I hope to be a competent enough longboarder to catch some of those cold monsters. Birthday surfing should prove most excellent.

Mmm... Communism

The 400 richest people in America are all billionaires. If you took their combined net worth and divided it equally amongst all the working Americans with full time jobs (no need wasting it on slackers, right) we'd each get about $12,000. So a typical household would receive $24,000.

Five of the top ten (4-8) are Waltons and there are two other Wal-Mart folks on the list who thank you very much for your continued support. (The one Walton who disagreed with the family's business practices died in a mysterious but completely accidental and unrelated plane crash.) Imagine if they shared that wealth with their employees. Or if you're the greedy type, imagine how much less they could be selling you that crap for.

Remember, you are not being screwed. Paper money is practically worthless and the 105.9 million working Americans could seize the assets of the 400 fat cats whenever they like. There is no justice like angry mob justice. It will most likely never come to that, but if it did, the great masses tend to win these things.

On a scarier note, the 400 richest people in America combined couldn't pay off the national debt. In fact, all of America combined can't pay that off. But the dollar is real. It has value. Backed by the full faith and confidence of the US Government. No wonder they print "In God We Trust" on the stuff.

Sticks & Stones

Jay: What the fuck is the Internet?
Holden: The Internet is a communication tool used the world over where people can come together to bitch about movies and share pornography with one another.

If someone is smart, they will never read the reviews of their work. If they make the mistake of reading them, a smart person will brush it off with a laugh. It could even be argued that the smartest of people are those who never offer anything up for critique.

I made the mistake of reading some comments from my YouTube material. Bad Jake! Bad!



Why should a comment questioning my farming background get my goat? It seems obvious that such an individual needs a serious beating with a clue X 4. The video he commented on contained images of me on my parents' farm and doing farm work. He either didn't bother to watch the material or suffers from some degenerative brain disease that blocks out bits of information that don't fit his particular world view. Still, I initially got steamed. But I calmed down and can now deal with the situation in the traditional internet way. Hey 'desperado', bite me.

Then there was this guy.


No clue what he was trying to say with the second part of the statement. His statement about me being ugly made me rewatch the video. Was I less than prime that day? Laugh at my vanity, folks. Seemed to me that I looked about like my usual self that day, and that ain't ugly. But to each their own. Perhaps 'laughingBun', who is 18 and from Roseville, does not find piercings and a mohawk attractive. The video really had nothing to do with my sexiness. It was a rather poorly done comparison of party politics featuring my pups. Maybe he thought I was one of the dogs, but they aren't ugly either. Only one way to deal with this impromptu beauty pageant judge. 'laughingBun' can suck my left one.

When you put your material into the public eye, you are going to draw a lot of critics. If you feel a connection to that content, the criticism will hurt. But it can also be a great source of inspiration. Because these people said stupid, nasty things, I was tricked into re-evaluating my work. I determined that really, they were just bastards. Yes, those two vlogs marked some of my worst YouTube work to date, but their comments were still stupid. I can deal with stupidity. After all, I've had to deal with some real nasty stuff.

It would still be fun to do the Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back thing, though.

Banky: Well, *you're* in love. And you've both got your own monkey. What more could two guys from New Jersey want?
Jay: Well, to have all these fucks stop talking shit about us on the Internet.
Banky: What've I been telling you? There's nothing you can do about it. Unless you show up at all their houses and beat the shit out of them.

Young

Today I realized that I've still spent a lot more of my life depending on others than I have fending for myself. So it's okay that I haven't really figured all this shit out yet.

The Signs and Signals of Freemasonry

High Coup

Pow pow pow pow pow
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang
Pow pow, bang bang bang

A & The

Confusing the uses of "a" and "the" has caused so much harm to the psyches of our youth, and psyche is the most important attribute. Or is it a most important attribute? Ask Rolfe. He'll give you a straight answer, but probably not the straight answer.

Father: You can be anything you want to be when you grow up.
Son: Even President?
Father: Even President.

Very true. While anyone can become a president, only a few crafty bastards with connections can become The President. Want to be president? Start your own business and give yourself that title. Or you can just declare the elections false and name yourself as President. Most people won't recognize your position as authentic, so you'll just be a president, not The President.

I'm a pope. If you know me, you're probably a pope, too, since I try to pope my friends. But most people will never accept you as The Pope. Don't feel too bad. The dress code for The Pope is far more restrictive than for a pope.

For millions of people, Jesus is The Savior. I am my own redeemer. I am a savior. It will stay that way unless millions of people start viewing me as their salvation. Please don't do that. I like the job of prophet a lot better. Any Muslim will tell you I am not The Prophet.

I have seen The Five Foot Beaver. In saying that, I forsake all other five foot beavers as somehow false. Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Yet people are more than happy to have The President, The Pope, and The Savior. Personally I put a lot more faith in The Five Foot Beaver. May you infidels who have not witnessed its awesomeness be washed away when the rivers flood. Thus sayeth The Prophet!

High Coup

Bipartisanship
Democrats can suck my balls
Republicans too

Just Preparing for the Real World

Business grad students most likely to cheat: study.

Life is Good

Yesterday I did NOT get hit by a semi rolling through a stop sign while taking a wide turn.

My 600th Post!

Alcohol use helps boost income: study

Sho raishe a glassh with me! To shix hundred poshtsh and higher wagesh! Cheersh... hic

FREE WILLIE!

Because a 73-year old pot smoking musician is such a threat to society.

How To Speak Without Saying Anything

Holy crap! Has Bush been reading my blog?

Bush says pope sincere in apology on Islam.

Reading through this article was amazing. People issue official comments on all sides of the issue but the statements contain no substance. Seriously, loads of talk with nothing being said.

In short, Bush thinks the Pope was sincere in offering an apology that wasn't really an apology and the Prime Minister of Malaysia accepted that Bush felt that way. While some Muslims don't care, others do.

In other news, those unable to eat chocolate cake often do not. Film at eleven.

You're So Vain...

You probably think this post is about you.

Nerd Fortress

My good friend Rolfe, who by divine right is King of the Nerds, was in Seattle this weekend. Since I love Rolfe so much, even though he only gave me one week's notice, my wife and I drove up to Seattle for a quick visit with him on Sunday. By quick visit I mean four hours in a Chinese restaurant until it closed, about 3 hours at a Shari's, and another hour driving around and getting lost in Renton trying to find the apartment of the individual they were staying with. Never trust a person who has never had a driver's license to give you good directions. Not saying they can't, just saying you've got better odds in Vegas.

I mentioned he was King of the Nerds, and it was in this role that he and his lovely queen found themselves in Seattle for an invitation only gaming convention. The convention was being held in the home of an employee of Wizards of the Coast and I was to meet Rolfe there. From the outside it looked like a very typical suburban subdevelopment in beige. These neighborhoods are everywhere in America and they always scare the hell out of me. I was half expecting to see a Ford Escort parked along the street with a "My Other Car is a StarShip" bumper sticker. No stereotypes on the street.

Inside was a totally different matter. I'm familiar with nerds and geeks, so a house full of twenty and thirty-somethings at multiple tables throwing dice, laying down cards, and strategically moving miniatures across a map doesn't frighten me. I'd say I feel more unease walking in on a group of guys crowded around a big screen TV and shouting at a ref several states away. So seeing people gaming in the den, dining room, backyard, bedroom, and over-sized walk-in closet while a few took a break in the family room by watching anime, no big deal. But the house, well, that was something I just never really thought existed. The idea of such a place never crossed my mind. In most respects it was a stereo-typical over-sized three bedroom suburban home, very clean, very bright, beige carpet, nice furniture, exactly what one would expect to find in a place like Kent. But the book shelves were filled with Role-playing and strategy games. More than carried by most game shops I went into as a teen. The theme throughout the house was fantasy. Everything was swords and dragons. I have swords and dragons. But the are only a part of the whole. This was some serious fantasy fixation fed by a middle class income. Room after room, every wall, upstairs and down, it was all swords and dragons, dragons and swords.

In that moment my prior career strategy came rushing back to me. I had tried for two years solid to land a job with a video game company. The people I knew in that industry were not all that different from those whose home I now stood in. They loved video games, played video games constantly, always bought the latest consoles, and followed industry trends. My level of technical skill was meaningless, as was my creativity. Without that kind of passion behind me, I never stood a chance in that industry. As a kid who found ways to entertain himself alone on a farm without card games or Nintendo, my fantasies took on a very quixotic flavor. My dragons were slain with sword in hand and I moved on. I was a freak amongst geeks.

But it was freakin' awesome to see Rolfe. He may not live in such a castle (yet), but he is still the secret King of the Nerds.

Cake and Eat It

The Pope apologizes! He's sorry that muslims are too stupid to understand that he was quoting from an independent source so he wouldn't have to take credit for how he really feels. Of course I'm paraphrasing, not quoting.

Muslims demanded an apology, the Pope apologized, looks like we can all forget the whole thing happened.

High Coup

Government will walk
Up, down, and all over you
When given the chance

23rd Blog Post This Month

Do I over blog? Considering this is my 23rd post in 17 days, 5 of which were video blogs, plus one podcast and a wall paper, while I have a readership of maybe a dozen people...

And that's not counting the stuff over at my other blog. (Which has a huge readership but I hardly ever post to.)

Yeah, I might be over doing it a bit. Or that huge cross-section of America often invoked by presidents, the silent majority, is lurking around here with hopeful hearts just waiting to hear the next words of the prophet. That would just be creepy. I know I could get a site meter. I used to check the stats on my other blog. I was getting 1000 hits a day during the week and 2000 a day on weekends last I checked. When you get hits like that you start feeling like you have a responsibility to your fan base. Fuck that. I do this for my own amusement and have comments turned on because they often amuse me as well.

Ich bin nicht der zentrierte Selbst!

High Coup

Fuck Bush and Cheney
Freedom took a holiday
No one even cares

Creativity Potion

An advertising archive has commissioned a witch to forge a creativity potion.

Why I Hate America

Reprinted in full without permission. Found at Disinfo.com.

Mickey Z: Why I Hate America

"Why do you hate America?" This is a remarkably easy question to provoke. One might, for instance, expose elements of this nation's brutal foreign policy. Ask a single probing question about, say, U.S. complicity in the overthrow of governments in Guatemala, Iran, or Chile and thin-skinned patriots (sic) will come out of the woodwork to defend their country's honor by accusing you of being "anti-American." Of course, this allegation might lead me to ponder how totalitarian a culture this must be to even entertain such a concept, but I'd rather employ the vaunted Arundhati defense. The incomparable Ms. Roy says: "What does the term 'anti-American' mean? Does it mean you are anti-jazz or that you're opposed to freedom of speech? That you don't delight in Toni Morrison or John Updike? That you have a quarrel with giant sequoias?" (I'm a tree hugger remember? I don't argue with sequoias.)

When pressed, I sometimes reply: "I don't hate America. In fact, think it's one of the best countries anyone ever stole." But, after the laughter dies down, I have a confession to make: If by "America" they mean the elected/appointed officials and the corporations that own them, well, I guess I do hate that America-with justification.

Among many reasons, I hate America for the near-extermination and subsequent oppression of its indigenous population. I hate it for its role in the African slave trade and for dropping atomic bombs of civilians. I hate its control of institutions like the United Nations, World Bank, International Monetary Fund, and World Trade Organization. I hate it for propping up brutal dictators like Suharto, Pinochet, Duvalier, Hussein, Marcos, and the Shah of Iran. I hate America for its unconditional support for Israel. I hate its bogus two-party system, its one-size-fits-all culture, and its income gap. I could go on for pages but I'll sum up with this: I hate America for being a hypocritical white supremacist capitalist patriarchy.

After a paragraph like that, you know what comes next: If you hate America so much, why don't you leave? Leave America? That would potentially put me on the other end of U.S. foreign policy. No thanks.

I like how Paul Robeson answered that question before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1956: "My father was a slave and my people died to build this country, and I'm going to stay right here and have a part of it, just like you. And no fascist-minded people like you will drive me from it. Is that clear?"

Since none of my people died to build anything, I rely instead on William Blum, who declares, "I'm committed to fighting U.S. foreign policy, the greatest threat to peace and happiness in the world, and being in the United States I the best place for carrying out the battle. This is the belly of the beast, and I try to be an ulcer inside of it."

Needless to say, none of the above does a damn thing to placate the yellow ribbon crowd. It seems what offends flag-wavers most is when someone like me makes use of the freedom they claim to adore. According to their twisted logic, I am ungrateful for my liberty if I have the audacity to exercise it. If I make the choice to not salute the flag during the seventh inning stretch at Yankee Stadium, somehow I'm not worthy of having the freedom to make the choice to not salute the flag during the seventh inning stretch at Yankee Stadium. These so-called patriots not only claim to celebrate freedom while refusing my right to exploit it, they also ignore the social movements that fought for and won such freedoms.

There's plenty of tolerated public outcry against the Bush administration and the occupation of Iraq, but it's neither fashionable nor acceptable to go as far as saying, no, I do not support the troops and yes, I hate what America does. Fear of recrimination allows the status quo to control the terms of debate. Until we voice what is in our hearts and have the nerve to admit what we hate . . . we will never create something that can be loved.

Mickey Z is the author of 50 American Revolutions.

Jake Explains the Fed

There was some nastiness with getting this republished here, but I took some advice and edited the sound down so the explanation is more audible.

10 Years of Conspiracy

Happy Birthday to Disinformation!

News Flash!

Swedish voters better looking than American voters!

Blood Rites

In religious practice there is perhaps nothing more controversial than the blood ritual.

Choosing to bestow upon some incorporeal entity a gift of that which is the very essence of our corporeal form can be a very strong statement. It is easy to argue that demons, angels, and gods are metaphors for those things we fear, desire, or aspire to. As such a symbolic sacrifice, such as using wine instead of blood or a hunk of bread to represent the flesh, should prove adequate in ritual if the intent is whole. A blood sacrifice is only necessary for literalists.

Malachi 1:8: And if ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is it not evil? offer it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? saith the LORD of hosts.

But the choice to use fresh blood drawn from the adorer at the time of the ritual is an unmistakable sentiment. The ritualist proves (if only to himself) that they are committed to the act by enduring or transcending the physical pain. They then offer a bit of their own life to manifest the ideals attributed to the egregore that is the focus of the rite. It is a very real sacrifice.

Leviticus 1:11-13: And he shall kill it on the side of the altar northward before the LORD: and the priests, Aaron's sons, shall sprinkle his blood round about upon the altar. And he shall cut it into his pieces, with his head and his fat: and the priest shall lay them in order on the wood that is on the fire which is upon the altar: But he shall wash the inwards and the legs with water: and the priest shall bring it all, and burn it upon the altar: it is a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the LORD.

The ritualist is again reminded of the reality of their sacrifice throughout the next day when isopropynol, oil, acetone, and coolant constantly enflame the source.

The Truth About 9.11

This is how my morning went.

I woke up today at 9:10, looked at the clock, and fell back asleep. I then awoke again at 9:12, 9:11 passing by as strange visions I hope to someday understand. The truth is I will never understand those images that were broadcast across my screen in what seemed to last an eternity, but was only a moment. Professionals can give me their opinions, but they don't know either. We would all just be trying to make sense of the weirdness using what ever tools we have at our disposal. Trying to understand what it all means is like reaching out to touch the fog. It seems so solid, so real, but as you grasp at it, you realize there is nothing there to hold. Nothing to do but breathe it in and experience it whether you want to or not.

I rolled over and went back to sleep after that. At 10:38 I woke from a restless sleep, masturbated, and passed out again. I opened my eyes at 12:03, closed them again, dozed off, and finally woke up at 11:34. I'm not sure how that last one happened, but that's what I experienced.

I also don't know for certain how 9.11 happened.

Coffee Thoughts

This afternoon I paid a visit to my favorite drug den, the Red & Black, for a mind altering dosage of caffeine. My usual coffee ritual involves three tall glasses in rapid succession combined with frantic journaling. When my hands are shaking so badly that my writing turns into chaotic scribbles on the page, I hop back on the chopper, ripped out of my gourd, and ride home. It still amazes me that driving under the influence of a heavy caffeine dose is legal. How do those Starbucks junky soccer moms do it?

One of my ponderings during the ritual involved the Sanskrit Sri Syadasti principle. Translated it says,

All things are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true, false, and meaningless in some sense.

Of course that means that the above passage is true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true, false, and meaningless in some sense. Contemplating the ramifications of this I felt enlightened, in some sense.

Requiem For the Psychedelic Revolution

I wrote this around the time of Hunter S. Thompson's death and recorded the audio version shortly afterwards. I hope you enjoy it.


Subscribe Free for future posts  Add this player to my Page

Blog Song

Daily Meditation

For Your Own Good

Someone really needs to buy me one of these so that I can continue to post wipe-out footage that entertains you for at least two minutes. Admit it. It's a worthwhile investment.

I Am Not A Pusher

As we get closer to the five year anniversary of what was either an extremely well planned terrorist attack by some dessert hicks or an extremely well staged media event by some good ol' boy politicians, the news gets fnordy. And as I watched some 'new' footage of 'bin Laden' meeting with the '9/11 terrorists' which seems to be released with very curious timing, and my thoughts tell me to link it, I say, "NO!"

Yes, I find it strange that al Qaeda number 2's are constantly dropping like flies while their strikingly tall leader dashes from cave to cave while hooked to his dialysis machine. Yes, I question why al Qaeda would video tape themselves training for a terrorist attack. The twisted tale I piece together from various news outlets looks something like Ralph Steadman paying homage to M. C. Escher.

This reality is created by what I choose to bombard my synapses with. While I enjoy the altered states of consciousness that can be created when trying to make sense of the news, I would not wish this mind fuck on anyone else. And since X is trying to abstain from the news, I'm keeping my stash for myself. And I'll still have plenty of weird shit to throw your way.

I'd Like To Try Porky Pig

Over at Hookers on Stilts, Britt is making and accepting suggestions as to who could play her in the story of her life. As is usually the case when reading things I haven't written, I found myself trying to apply the content of the text to myself.

Who could play Jake in a film adaptation of my life? Hmm...

Sorry, can't think of a single person. I don't know of a single tall actor who can pull off my appearance while contorting his mouth into failed over-enunciation and still be thought of as cute and nice. But I would make one hell of a Muppet.

What's The Dif?

Not even going to link to the articles. Don't care. But I love it when I see a headline change for an article. When I first saw the headline it read;

Bush admits to secret prisons

How does reading that headline make you feel? Examine your initial reactions closely. Now read what they later changed the headline into;

Bush admits CIA has held terror suspects

Same story.

Atheo-Anarchist Stingrays

Watch The Show.

If You Don't See The Fnords, They Can't Hurt You

Some people will do anything for attention.

Bush compares Bin Laden to Hitler.

On The Dear Old Farm

Don't get the wrong impression. I actually agree with most of Bree's observations on Stupid Conveniences. But synapses fire, cerebral storm clouds form, and I can't pass up the opportunity.

Chopper Tales

New story of this weekend's motorcycle exploits over at the Easy Rider site.

Still Fisting...

Here's a wallpaper for all you Jake Boosters.

AWPC

My maintenance co-worker called in sick today leaving me to tend to all the machines on my own. It was an extremely good night. I managed to keep the machines running just fine with enough down time to BS with the machinists and tool and die guys (and prank my boss). I was talking about old roadsters and choppers with the machinist right around break time when an operator flipped on their blue maintenance light. I turned to the machinist:

Oh shit, she's turning her light on again. I better go to break.