The Five Families of Michigan Furniture Sales meet regarding competitor's recent explosion

In the wake of the gas leak explosion that destroyed the William C. Franks furniture store in Wayne County, Michigan, the Five Families of Michigan Furniture Sales have called an emergency meeting regarding marketing in 2011.

At the top of the agenda is a resolution that the furniture families will indefinitely suspend use of the following marketing slogans:

• Blow-out Sale!
  
• Fire Sale!
  
• Explosive Savings!

Fighting terrorism by tarring and feathering ourselves

Since September 11, 2001, the mantra of North America has become "The terrorists! The terrorists!" -- bawled with the voices of cigarette-addled grannies in a bingo hall.

This unseemly shrieking obsession with "The terrorists!", with this polymorphous army of monsters who are at once brilliant and stupid (think "underwear bomber", think "shoebomber", think Swedish suicide bomber who accidentally detonated himself early by bending down to pick up his cell phone after dropping it), who are everywhere and nowhere at once.

Lessons of Watergate from the year when nobody cares anymore

Lesson #1
Every scandal from Watergate onward would have "gate" attached to it. "Angolagate", "Irangate", "Coingate", "Travelgate", "Cablegate", etc.

Lessong #2
No American president would again be held accountable for his actions in office. Bill Clinton was impeached for lying about receiving a blowjob, but he did not resign his office over it.

Lesson #3
Partisanship is the answer.

In the documentary Watergate: 784 Days that Changed America, a few Republican loyalists hung on to the bitter end supporting Richard Nixon, but when the "smoking gun" evidence of wrongdoing came to light, they voted against him.

Never again would evidence play such a role in politics again.

From 1974 onward, Washington has been as staged, scripted, rigged and choreographed as professional wrestling, the narrative demanding the Bleeding Heart Spaghetti Spines (Dems) be on top sometimes and other times the Bullet-headed Hard Hearts (Republicans) be on top.

It's no different than Wrestlemania.

Lesson #4
Partisanship heals no wounds, but selfishly and self-defeatingly stems political bleeding. In Washington, that's enough.

When partisanship appears to be failing, pile on more. When more is not enough, pile on more.

Lesson #5
Yes, the general public is that stupid. Tell them anything and they'll believe it. Really, anything. Anything at all. Absolutely anything. Or, nothing at all. It would never matter again.

Lesson #6
"Let them eat cake" became a viable political strategy, as Ronald Reagan so ably proved during his scourge in office.

Abbotsford, BC border crossing -- ground zero of breathtaking ineptitude

When I was 17 years old, a girlfriend and I were giving a family friend a ride home. It was seven o'clock on a Friday evening.

At the top of my street, I pulled into traffic when there was an opening; no in-a-hurry vehicular acrobatics, no new driver bullshit -- just a right turn onto an ordinary street.

Pope's Xmas Message: 2010

Pope Ratzenburger began his Xmas address from a balcony in St. Peter's Bascillica, setting a new, lighter tone for 2011, by opening with the line: "Abra Cadabra! I wanna reach out and grab ya!"

After the obligatory potshots at China and the secular world, the leader of the world's largest peasant religion stated, "The Holy See intends to compete directly with China and so we are opening our own sweatshops around the world in all the foreign missions where labor laws do not exist. By 2014, the Roman Catholic Church will be the leading assembler of small plastic trinkets, makers of unholy denim trousers for the decadent west, as well as athletic shoes."

Win!

Christmas Conscripts

Morose, mechanical, maniacal, the Target rioting hordes stampede into stores, eating their own, rampaging, frightening withered Santas in costumes red as nose bleeds.

Seated on cheap, seasonal thrones, like beef jerky totems, the Santa Corp observe, wide-eyed, the shopping ferocious tide, part animal, part cannibal, wielding credit cards like razor blades, human batteries with their carnival girths of Big Macs, heart attacks, lunging down aisles, hunger/gatherers, on the hunt that has no end.

Shop!
You must!
Favorite Things for all!
And to all a rude night!

Cell Phone Time Traveler in Chaplin Film Explained!

From MSNBC Tech Blog:

Cell phone time traveler from 1928?

Is a woman in a 1928 film who appears to have a cell phone glued to her ear in fact a time traveler? That's what some conspiracy theorists think this eerie scene (video below) from Charlie Chaplin's 1928 film, "The Circus" is telegraphing, or rather phoning, and that the woman -- who looks about as time-traveler-ish as Martha Stewart, is indeed a voyager from the vortex of time and space.

Explanation

Gem found in a used bookstore

600th Post: "Dear Larry"

​​Dear Larry:

You were right -- Spiderman: Turn off the Dark is the stupidest idea since The Million Dollar Hotel.​

At least I didn't go along with Edge on writing a musical about Gallagher the Prop Comic.

Could you imagine?​

Edge said he'd found the perfect effects box for when Gallagher'd use the Sledge-o-matic. The effects box turned out to be some monstrosity he bought from M.I.T. and took up the entire back of a cube van.

I'm still stinging, though, over his rebuking my idea for the musical, Carrot Top: Stupidity Never Sleeps.

For the millionth time, I'm sorry for asking Adam to join the band. I'm sure he'll leave any week now.​ I know I've been saying that since 1978, but this time I really feel like it's true.

I'm also sorry for the complete fuck-up my back injury caused the band. My doctor told me playing Bocce Ball would strengthen my back. How was I to know the silly git was a psychic surgeon and knew bugger all about spinal erectors?

I do hope you've given up working on that drum machine. Edge and I think you're a brilliant drummer.

You know how Lou Reed knows only three chords, but has written all those songs? Well, think of it, you know two less rhythms on the drums and look at how many songs you've played on!

We don't think of you as limited, but as consistent.

You play the same bloody thing every time you pick up your sticks and we like that. What the hell would we do with a Carmine Appice or Neil Peart? I'll tell you, neither of them would've dressed as a woman in the Wim Wenders video for "One," I guarantee you that.

Well, I'm about due to lose my laptop filled with lyrics, so I'll sign off asking if I might borrow a few quid. Spiderman's burying me and the fucking Red Campaign is a bloody albatross. I'm at a cafe in Namibia and I don't even have money enough to cover my hotel room, limo ride to the airport, armed security, hair products or flight home.

Zing a little something into me PayPal, would you?

Thanks a million!
Bono

What will be the next face of Catholic clergy sex partners?

Pope Says Sex Scandal Has Hit Unimaginable Dimension

The Roman Catholic Church banned its clergy from marrying sometime in the 1100s, instituting its policy of celibacy that is still in effect -- if not practice -- to this day.

There was no spiritual reason for the turn toward celibacy.

When married priests died before the 1100s, they left their money and property to their families. The Church didn't like that. It wanted all the priests' money and property when they died. So, it instituted the rule of celibacy.

It's the opinion of the editorial staff at Inside the Hotdog Factory that the sex abuse scandal involving the Catholic Church, spanning back most of the 20th century may stem from a previous, little-known policy in the Church.

Vow of celibacy or no vow of celibacy, clergy is going to have sex.

The traditional partner for the Roman Catholic priest up to the early 20th century was the rectory housekeeper.

But some of these housekeepers had the bad fortune and poor manners to, on occasion, become pregnant after sexual union with the padre.

Pregnancies mean progeny, which means heirs, which means warm bodies vying with the Church for priests' money and property when the good father died.

The Church hates competition. Look how it's treated Satan all these centuries.

So, a viable alternative to housekeepers as sexual partners had to be found for priests.

Who would be suitable?

The sexual partner had to be impressionable and obedient. The new sexual partner also had to know how to keep a secret.

Most importantly, the priest's sexual partner had to be someone who couldn't become pregnant (not only does the Church frown upon artificial contraception, it couldn't rely on its dullard priests to use it, even if the Church fully endorsed it).

What segment of the congregation fit this criteria?

Children. Boys never got pregnant and young girls couldn't yet become pregnant. In the corridors of the Holy See, this was considered a "win-win."

No documentation, to our knowledge, has yet surfaced showing the Church made it an official doctrine that children were acceptable substitutes for housekeepers as sexual partners for clergy, but it's clear this policy definitely existed on a wink-and-nod basis, which was understood far and wide.

As the pope, today, goes through the empty motions of feigning surprise and tepid outrage over the Church sex abuse scandal, we can be sure that behind the scenes teams of Vatican officials are busily constructing the profile of a new sexual partner for priests.

One thing Vatican officials didn't take into consideration when they deemed children suitable sexual partners for priests was the fact that after years of abuse, the threat of Hell lost its bite in the face of the torment these victims suffered at the hands of their ordained abusers.

Inside the Hotdog Factory has no word on exactly what the next iteration of clergy sex partner will be, but we have been told to look for priests to become very enthusiastic pet owners starting in 2011.

Update

Tell me I'm wrong:

From The Associated Press: "In the 1970s, pedophilia was theorized as something fully in conformity with man and even with children," the pope said. "It was maintained — even within the realm of Catholic theology — that there is no such thing as evil in itself or good in itself. There is only a 'better than' and a 'worse than.' Nothing is good or bad in itself."

Holy fuck!

JACTOFF presents Canadian Justice Kiosk

Have you ever been arrested, maybe for drunk driving, fighting in a bar, beating up a spouse or sledgehammering a public toilet?

Were you given a ticket by one of those troublesome "cops" demanding you appear in court?

Well, the Canadian judges' national body "Judges Acting Compassionately Toward Offenders' Future Freedom" (JACTOFF) is tired of the time-consuming bureaucracy that tangles up offenders after they've been caught.

Introducing Canadian Justice Kiosk -- or, denoted for the illiterate by the following pictogram:


Canadian Justice Kiosks are similar to those used by people to renew their driver's licenses or vehicle license plate tags.

Canadian Justice Kiosks are conveniently located in check-cashing depots, liquor and beer stores, laundromats, fishing tackle shops, bowling alleys, and of course, in malls. There are also a growing number of drive-thru kiosks -- look for one near you!

How does it work?

Say you're Biff and you've been ticketed for killing someone with your car while driving drunk. JACTOFF knows that "shit happens," so all Biff need do is go to a conveniently located Canadian Justice Kiosk, feed his ticket into the ticket reader and follow the prompts on the screen.

The first and most important question is:

How do you plead: GUILTY | NOT GUILTY

If Biff presses the touch-screen NOT GUILTY button, he receives the following message: HAVE A NICE DAY! And he's free to go.

Now, if Biff touches the GUILTY button, he is prompted to answer another question (JACTOFF believes in thoroughness when dispensing drive-thru justice!):

Was it your fault? YES | NO

If Biff presses NO, he receives the following message: HAVE A NICE DAY! And he's free to go.

If Biff pressed YES on that last question, he'd then be prompted to answer a few more:

Did you mean to do it? YES | NO

Do you promise never to do it again? YES | NO

Please choose your sentence: 10 DAYS | 30 DAYS | 60 DAYS | 90 DAYS | 120 DAYS | SUSPENDED

Where would you like to serve your sentence? HOUSE ARREST | PRISON

Please provide your sweater size so that one of our caring judges may knit one for you (please allow 4 - 6 weeks for delivery):
S | M | L | XL | XXL | XXXL | XXXXL | XXXXXL | XXXXXXL | XXXXXXXL

Biff replied:

• YES, it was his fault


• NO, he didn't mean to commit his offense


• YES, he promises never to do it again


• 30 DAYS as his sentence


• HOUSE ARREST for the location where he'd prefer to serve his sentence


• Sweater size of XXXXL.

He would then return to his home and begin serving his sentence.

No more time-consuming court dates! No more boring court proceedings! Now Biff is ready to get back in action expressing himself in society as he always has done: under the influence of methamphetamine, committing petty larceny, weapons danger, trafficking controlled substances -- and driving his dead mother's car all the while!

JACTOFF has been looking out for the interests of criminals for 72 years.

No crime's too big, no crime's too small for Canadian Justice Kiosk!

Sorry, Canada ... it's time to grow up

Nobody likes hearing it, but sometimes it's got to be said: Canada, it's time to grow up.

It's time to face the fact that there are bad people in society. Irredeemable people. People who, pathologically, cannot play well with others.

Hamilton rapist, Christopher DeCosta, has been given a 42 month sentence for a brutal assault he perpetrated on a 17 year old unconscious girl, lovingly filmed on a cellphone by one of the rapists admirers.

The prosecutor in the case asked for -- and got -- a seven year sentence for the rapist: a woefully light sentence for what everyone agrees was a heinous crime.

But Superior Court Justice Stephen Glithero gave the rapist two-for-one credit for pretrial custody.

What on earth is up with this "two-for-one" horseshit? Is justice Glithero concerned he may be dropped from DeCosta's Xmas card list?

No, I fear it's worse.

Canadian judges clearly come from an alternate reality, one in which their grave words and dour disappointment carries with it the weight of liens against one's soul.

In this case, justice Glithero said he had difficulty mustering the words to "adequately describe the seriousness of the crime and the 'breach of human values and human dignity.'"

And: "I don't understand, Mr. DeCosta, how you could do these things — no matter how drunk you were. There are just some things that are so depraved in terms of the actions you performed on another human being that it just defies understanding . . ."

Then the judge handed this monster a two-for-one deal on an already egregiously light sentence.

What. A. Fucking. Joke.

Canadian judges believe their words carry the force of Thor, the fearsomeness of Zeus. I'm sure in the funhouse-mirror of their minds, they do. In the real world, these judges are viewed as daft, arcane uppercrust gobshites tut-tutting rapists and robbers and miscreants of all stripes.

I'm sure DeCosta, beneath his lawyer-advised-contrite expression, was laughing in justice Glithero's face.

I recently caught an epside of TVO's The Agenda that dealt with the sentencing of criminals in Canada. One veal calf academic from Kingston assured viewers that Canadian judges "know how to deal with bad guys."

You think so? You honestly, swear on the Complete Coronation Street collection believe Canadian judges know how to deal with bad guys?

Point of order, sir!

There is a vast and increasingly troubling disconnect between Canadian judges, who frolick on their country estates, fox hunting, building model ships within bottles, breeding show dogs and polishing their sterling silver tea sets, and the reality of hardcore violent criminals.

I'm sure Cecil or Dalton or Hiram or Leicester -- or whatever these judge's names are -- would have been mortified to the point of coma by a "tongue-lashing" when they were adolescents in Upper Canada College.

I would have no doubt, they would cower and question their very existence when the headmaster said he could not understand why they had done whatever they'd done to break the rules -- you know, like reading Proust after "lights out," smoking a cigarette behind the horse barn at the polo club, or for having an overdue library book.

There's no question in my mind that these future justices would have wilted in the wingback chair in the headmaster's office, hearing they'd caused DISAPPOINTMENT in an AUTHORITY FIGURE.

But, it's time to grow up, justices.

Not everyone shares your reverence for the rules, for authority, or for laaaw.

Justice Glithero may find it equally difficult to concieve that DeCosta probably wasn't even listening to the "pranging" he was given in court. DeCosta was surely too busy silently thanking whatever malevolent deity to whom he owes allegiance for being born in a country that offers rapists who film their crimes two-for-one deals.

Manifest Density - the unstoppable decline of the US ... pop some popcorn and watch!

Exclusive: US empire could collapse at any time, Pulitzer winner tells Raw Story

Bribe To Avoid Bribery Charges Successful: Nigeria drops charges against Halliburton, Cheney

Headline on Reddit.com: "The incoming GOP majority has a new initiative called YouCut, which lets Americans propose government programs for termination. So imagine how excited I was to learn that YouCut's first target — yes, its first target — was that notoriously bloated white elephant, the National Science Foundation." -- YouCut Citizen Review of a government agency: we will identify wasteful spending that should be cut

It's NASCAR. It's a disaster show on TLC, watching tornadoes gobble trailer homes, kicking cars up into trees and stacking yachts like toys.

It's COPS. It's Bum Fights. It's Ghetto Fights.

It's Manifest Density -- the demise of the United States of America.

It's an ugly, guilty pleasure filled with pointless destruction, base human misery, egregious sensationalism and an indefensible desire on my part to witness the whole mess.

For these reasons, I will from now on be cheering for the Repugnican Party from the sidelines.

I will light prayer candles that Sarah Palin becomes president in 2012.

I look forward to John Boehner's orange face becoming as ubiquitous as the yellow smilely "Have a nice day" face of the 1970s.

Any Democratic initiatives I'll hear about in the news, I shall boo.

The more outlandish, stupid, mean and cruel the initatives coming from the Repugnicans, I shall cheer. Cry for more.

Because the wheels are coming off the cart.

To all commentators who believe they're really walking the wire by asking in columns "Is America in decline?" I say, America is a comatosed stroke victim who's basic functions continue only because the brainstem doesn't know to quit.

So, when I hear of rich Repugnicans decrying the criminality of providing food at school to impoverished children, I will applaud.

The wheels have nearly come off the cart.

America is that shirtless, panting perpetrator fleeing sheriffs deputies on an episode of COPS; sprinting toward a swamp, where he hopes to wade through shit and get away -- but, where he'll be tackled in shit, carted away covered in shit, to sit in a jail cell caked in dried shit.

In 2011, when I hear America trumpet its empty commitment to freedom and democracy, as it refuses to prosecute torturers and war criminals in its midst, I will shout: "More! More!"

I can hear a balcony heckler say, "How can you be so defeatist?"

Because we are dealing with human stupidity of such a virulent strain you'd think it was created in a laboratory.

There are no sandbags to be placed in the path of this stupidity.

There are no riot troops to call out onto this stupidity.

There is no vaccine for it, nor is there any high ground to seek refuge from it.

It's a confluence of events unforeseen or possibly which has been predestined since the ink on the Declaration of Independence was still damp: when the cowardice of Democratic party meets the malevolent ignorance of the Repugnican party, they form a third compound that turns oxygen into cyanide, water into sulfuric acid and speech into the screeching of monkeys.

So, as I continue to read about people who have been charged with no crimes rotting in solitary confinement in American prisons because the rule of law was turned into toilet paper during the reign of George W. Bush, I will nod and say, "That's how ya do it!"

And the next time I see or hear of an American politician talking about peace and justice and human rights, I will rise to my feet, my right arm held out in front of me at a 100-degree angle and I will cry:

"Hypocrisy today! Hypocrisy tomorrow! Hypocrisy forever!"

George W. Bush Library

Come down to the George W. Bush lib'ary now and get half off all Civil War memorabilias!

We got fun for the kiddies with our possum-catching pen.

Ladies will love the Laura W. Bush kitchen and sewing stuff store.

Men, we got a shootin' range better'n Fort Benning's. There's horseshoe pits, BBQ, TV dinners scraped out onto paper plates by onsite unpaid prison laborers and kegs-o'-suds everywhere you turn!

Just, please, be sure to aim your puke into the grass!

Now, I hear people saying, "Wurlton, why in the hale would I wanna waste an affernoon in a gawddamned lib'ary? I quit school in fourth grade cuz I's sick books!"

Well, I'll tell you -- we only call the George W. Bush Shithouse a "lib'ary" so's we could qualify for fed'ral fundin'. Hey, if those socialist commies granola-eaters are gonna out free money, we may as well get ours!

So, come on down! We're more fun than the Creationist Museum! We're only two miles from the nearest Cracker Barrel! There's a full service evangelical church on site holdin' services every 45 minutes -- worshippin' so hard we're prolly tiring out Gawd Hisself!

Bring your family, bring your gun, bring your Bible!

The George W. Bush Lib'ary: fun for Goobers, Goobettes and Gooblets alike!

Inside the Hotdog Factory wants you to stay safe during Christmas . . .

. . . so we're passing along the Holiday Safety Tips a large corporation circulated among its employees -- which it loves.

Pentagon asks Interpol to detain the Red Cross

Obama Cites Afghan Gains as Report Says Exit Is on Track

America is enjoying the type of success in Afghanistan that is indistinguishable from failure.

While President Platitude announced "gains" in the war in Afghanistan, and that the unspecified exit is "on track", the International Committee of the Red Cross held a press conference announcing: Aid Conditions Hit New Low in Afghanistan.

So, it's not surprising in some circles that this afternoon the Pentagon asked Interpol to issue a "red notice" for the detention of the Red Cross for having sex with another, unnamed charity, without using a condom.

The timing of this request is being widely viewed with suspicion, but the Pentagon insists there is no connection between its "red notice" request and the Red Cross's press conference today.

"There is no connection between our request for the Interpol 'red notice' and the Red Cross's unfortunate press conference," said a Pentagon spokesman.

The team at Inside the Hotdog Factory isn't so sure.

Officials at Interpol leaped at the chance to do the Pentagon's bidding . . . but then quickly got hold of themselves, adjusting their suits and smoothing their hair. Even so, their excitement was palpable.

Inter-charity sexual relations isn't something that often makes the news, but as one observer noted, "How do you think little charities come into the world? The stork?"

Certainly not.

That said, it is highly unusual that the issue of whether or not a condom was used during such an intimate union becomes a matter for law enforcement, much less the US Pentagon, which has absolutely no jurisdiction in this obscure matter.

"The Pentagon is not now, nor has it ever been concerned with issues of 'jurisdiction'," said the Pentagon spokesman. "If it can be bombed, it's part of our purview."

At this moment, the Red Cross remains at large and the complainant charity with whom it had sexual relations has so far eluded the press.

Lame Magazine's "Pomegranate of the Year"

US tourism declines due to TSA fascist practices -- Solution: an ad campaign

US Response To Massive Decline In Foreign Travelers: Keep Crazy Policies, But Set Up Ad Campaign

The [Corporation for Travel Promotion] board members say every state needs the power of the U.S. brand to make people visit

My comment on the Commerce Department Web site regarding the CTP:

You can run all the slick ads showing Graceland, Disney World and Sunset Boulevard -- I'm not traveling to the U.S.

Between your full body scanning machines and "enhanced pat downs", I'm not going to spend a nickel to undergo such humiliating treatment at the hands of pro-fascist totalitarians.

"But the terrorists!" you screech. "Security!"

Bullshit.

Michael Chertoff sold you on those lousy, unproven scanners -- for which the TSA won't release the full health impact studies.

And what about that poor teenager who apparently stowed away on an N.C. to Boston flight?

Where's the security there, that a distraut teenager could gain access not only to a supposedly secured area, but could approach and stowaway on the plane?

My family and I must either be photographed naked or be groped by your TSA in order to visit Disney World?

Forget it.

So, roll out the ads. Give some agency a fat contract.

I don't care if your ads are written by George Bernard Shaw and shot by Akira Kurosawa -- I refuse to subject myself and my family to a totalitarian regime. End of story.

Wikileaks: Vatican extends consular sovereignty to include children's genitals

I've always liked the idea that a country's embassy in another country is considered sovereign -- that Argentina's embassy in Norway is considered to sit upon Argentinean soil.

During the 1989 American invasion of Panama, dictator, drug runner and CIA employee, Manuel Noriega, took refuge in the Vatican embassy in Panama. The Americans couldn't touch him because the property was considered sovereign Vatican land.

That didn't stop the US from blasting the property with high-decibel music, chanting and even the screeching of rabbits being killed (I'll bet the poor sot who had to gather that audio never thought he'd be asked to do such a thing when he was suckered by the Be All You Can Be commercials).

In the ever-expanding-exploding Vatican child sex scandal, the Vatican has made a very interesting revelation about what it considers sovereign territory. It appears the Roman Catholic Church believes the bodies -- particularly the genitals -- of children are also part of its sovereign territory. Incredible.

From the Wikileaks document release in The Guardian:

The Vatican believes the Irish government failed to respect and protect Vatican sovereignty during the investigations.
. . .

The Murphy Commission's requests offended many in the Vatican, the Holy See's Assessor Peter Wells (protect strictly) told DCM, because they saw them as an affront to Vatican sovereignty. Vatican officials were also angered that the Government of Ireland did not step in to direct the Murphy Commission to follow standard procedures in communications with Vatican City. Adding insult to injury, Vatican officials also believed some Irish opposition politicians were making political hay with the situation by calling publicly on the government to demand that the Vatican reply. Ultimately, Vatican Secretary of State (Prime Minister equivalent) Bertone wrote to the Irish Embassy that requests related to the investigation must come through diplomatic channels via letters rogatory.

The Vatican was angered. The bad guys were angered. The villains were perturbed.

They should be in prison.

The Roman Catholic Church should be recognized as a criminal organization, broken up and its parts sold off.

And it's criminal apparatus of priests, bishops, cardinals and pontiff should be put on trial for crimes against humanity.

What a Christmas gift that would be!

Whatchew smokin' Weed Man?

BBB Reliability Report for The Weed Man. It ain't pretty: it's an F.

"Customer service" in Canada is an urban myth.

Canadian commerce is Consumers Distributing -- the most frightful shopping experience this side of Bulgaria.

Canadian commerce is Bell Canada -- soulless, hydra-headed monopolies that twist consumers into the ground like horse shoe stakes.

And Canadian commerce is the execrable Weed Man.

The only thing Weed Man makes disappear is your money. The weeds in your lawn will be safe from harm so long as Weed Man is on the job. But the green in your pocket is always in peril.

This past summer, I prepaid for one season of Weed Man lawn care maintenance.

After proving itself to be singularly unimpressive, I told the Weed Man rep who called me about renewing that I wouldn't be renewing.

There was shock and befuddlement on the other end of the phone. "Not renewing?" the rep said, suddenly all customer service and customer-is-always-right and eager to please.

"Yeah, I've still got weeds," I said. "For what I paid, I'm not impressed. That's all."

I wasn't asking for a refund. I demanded no extra service. I just wasn't impressed and wished the Weed Man would go sew his weeds elsewhere.

Soon after, there was another telephone call from Weed Man inquiring about my opinion of their service. I explained in no uncertain terms -- calmly, politely -- that I wasn't impressed and wanted nothing more to do with Weed Man.

Then a bill arrived.

Yeah, a bill -- for a service I prepaid.

Nothing says, "Please come back! We want your business!" better than sending a bogus bill, for an arbitrary amount of money to a customer who has prepaid and actually owes the company nothing.

Then came the calls from Weed Man reps asking when I was going to pay the bill. To which I explained, "I prepaid. What's this bill for? I didn't ask for any extra services."

Befuddlement on the other end of the line. Then a promise to look into the reason for the charge and a promise to call me back with an answer.

No answers were forthcoming, though the telephone calls continued unabated.

Each time a Weed Man rep called, I went through the same song and dance. Maybe I'm horribly difficult to deal with, but I wanted to know what the charge on my account was for.

No one could answer that.

Better than that, Weed Man doesn't appear to have invested in computers, so Weed Man reps call customers with virtually no information about their accounts. The reps have no idea some other rep called days before and promised an answer to the ever-deepening mystery as to "Why am I being charged extra for a service I prepaid?"

So, you see where this is headed -- into a Beckettian loop of endless phone calls, empty promises of resolutions, no action and more phone calls.

After writing to the company and filling out my complaint with the BBB, I don't have much hope for a reasonable reply.

Weed Man in my area has 10 complaints against it with the BBB and an "F" rating. Clearly, I'm dealing with the kid in the class who ate glue in first grade; the kid who wouldn't top playing with himself in class in 7th grade; the kid who took a real shine to weeds in lawns when he was in 10th grade -- seemingly his final year of formal education.

These guys are low-rent gangsters. They're the type of shysters who'd build a nest in your ear and then charge you rent.

But I am a blogger. I will never give up.

19.5 Minutes in Hell: How I Learned My Lesson Faster Than Bill Wiese

I'm like you -- I thought Bill Wiese was full of shit.

Like most people I know, I read Bill Wiese's book 23 Minutes in Hell, but unlike many others, I wasn't sure how much I believed it -- I mean, a guy claiming he went to Hell and survived?

I'm so sure!

So, one day after fapping to online porn (man, nothing beats this site I found that shows girls eating and crying!), I fell asleep on my couch.

Or, shall I say, I thought I fell asleep on my couch.

You see, it was then that God grabbed me in his hands like a kid grabbing a minnow in a lake. And even though I didn't hear the actual voice of God -- it would have killed me; duh! -- I just sort of understood: "You don't believe good enough! You must experience hell in order to be a better person!"

And I was all like, "What? What?"

Next thing I knew, I woke up in a cell. But nothing like your regular drunk-tank cell down at the police station. Shit, no!

I'm talking a dungeon-like cell right out of a Vincent Price movie.

I was all groggy, like I'd had half a bottle of cough medicine and a few good hits my buddy, Lawrence's, naked lady bong, and I'm all "Whoa, where the hell am I? And what is that smell?"

I gotta tell you, the smell is what woke me up. It was a smell so bad I can't even describe it. It was terrible. Like a billion filled up Port-o-johns at a huge county fair where there could be, like, four billion people -- cause not everybody takes a shit at the fair -- and a wind was blowing it all right at me.

It was a blasphemous wind!

So, I woke up and I was choking and spitting and wondering where I was. As I looked around, I noticed there were two really, terrible ugly looking beasts in my cell. They were so ugly, I can't even describe them.

And they were looking at me. And I was all like, "Oh shit, what do I do? How do I get out of here?"

It was then that I noticed there was no door in the cell! What kind of cell is that? A cell in hell, that's what!

So, I figured, no sense making enemies my first day, and all, so I introduced myself to the beasts in my cell. Stupid idea! You see, they were pure evil. They were like the embodiment of all terror and horribleness. These were the kind of guys who would tear the top of a baby's head off, gut the baby and then use the baby's body as a straw, drinking a drink by sucking it up through the baby's asshole.

I can't think of anything more evil than that. These dudes looked like that's exactly what they were in to.

So, I tried introducing myself, but the beasts were talking back and forth in a language that I didn't understand, but just sort of knew was as blasphemous as the wind that blew in the smell of the billion Port-o-johns.

I figured it'd probably be best to just let them keep on talking and not interrupt. But it was too late. There is no tolerance for niceness in Hell. I was still getting used to the idea that I was actually in Hell, so I slipped. Those two beasts sure didn't let me off light!

Next thing I knew, the beasts attacked me. I mean, they were kneeing me in the balls, punching my sternum, giving me noogies and charley horses. When I'd shout or tell them to stop, they'd spit in my mouth.

Spit in my mouth!

That's when it totally sunk in, I'm in Hell!

So, those beasts were going to town on me and I was starting to think, "How much more of this can I take?" They were beating the shit out of me.

I sort of got knocked out; I was getting all lightheaded; getting that hit-off-the-naked-lady-bongo feeling again and BAM!

I'm suddenly in a hallway.

And I'm all like, "Wha? Wha? How did I get here?"

But then I noticed a guy standing near me. I took one look at him and I knew it was Jesus. He didn't even have to say anything, but he did. He said, "I am Jesus."

And I wasn't going to say something stupid like, "I know." I just looked at him, my balls and solar plexus and head all sore from the beat-down I took from the beasts. No wonder those assholes were locked!

So, I got up on my feet. Jesus was taller than me, which made me glad for some reason. I don't know. He looked just like he does in the movies. Man, you just look at him and think, "Yeah -- that's Jesus."

But I couldn't help myself -- I said: "Your Jesus. What are you doing in Hell?"

And he said, "I sometimes come to Hell to see how the people are doing who didn't believe in me or keep any of my Father's commandments."

"What am I doing here?" I said. "Am I dead?"

"You're not dead, but we're really worried about you," Jesus said. He said he'd been watching me and that I had to straighten my shit out; that he created me to be good, but that I was being a disappointment.

He took me to see the rest of Hell.

It was so horrible, I can't even describe it.

There were all the damned souls of people who thought it was cool to not believe in God and not caring about charities or children or going to church.

It was the most awful thing I ever saw. I'll never forget it.

And then Jesus turned to me and said, "You know what's expected of you. Live right or you'll end up here."

And I'll never forget what he said next: "Not everybody gets a second chance like you. Straighten up, but be sure to tell other people to straighten up because I can't take each and every person who's on the line down here and show them all this. So you have to tell them."

And so I'm telling you. Believe in God. Love little children. Go to church. Give all your money to charities. Lay off the Internet porn -- all porn, for that matter!

I spent 19^1/2 in hell and take it from me, you don't want to go there!

"Is this an early Xmas gift, Chulls?" asked aroused violence-fetishist, Lady Camiller

The student protest over tuition hikes in the UK almost fell into the laps of Prince Charles and Lady Camilla, last night.

Students were in the streets of London, protesting, after the House of Commons voted to triple university tuition fees.

The protesters' angst found a target when the Royal Rolls drove right into their midst.

Cries of, "The rabble! The rabble! Chulls! The rabble!" were heard within the Royal limo, shrieked by a momentarily disconcerted Lady Camilla.

It's understood that she is now in grief counseling for having come in such close proximity to commoners.

Speaking to the press later in the evening, Prince Charles explained that Lady Camilla loves violence and that was the only part of the encounter that soothed her.

"She's a regular at the Royal dogfighting matches of Westminster," said Prince Charles. "She's devoted to the IFC and has the entire series of Ghetto Fights videos."

The Prince paused and chuckled. "On her birthday, she insisted on bringing over a band of sheriff's deputies and several assailants she'd seen on a particularly riveting episode of the American TV show COPS, I believe from the American state of Tennessee.

"We had them re-enact several scenarios out on the Royal croquet courts for our amusement. Camilla particularly enjoyed the raw thud of the police batons as they were used to bash in the baddies' faces. It was just the tonic for the bout of low spirits she's been experiencing around then. It sure put the lead in her pencil, I'll say! She was a jag-u-ar in the Royal rumpus room that night, know what I mean?

"In fact," Prince Charles continued, "Camilla thought I had organized the riot as an early Christmas gift to her. You can see the lovely look of surprise on her face in that photo circulating about in the press from last night.

"But when the rabble charged at the limousine, they violated Cammy's ten meter rule -- she cannot abide commoners being with in ten meters of her. Didn't I always tell you she had royal blood in her?"

Lady Camilla was resting after the breach of her ten meter rule and was being consoled by the ambassador from Watusitania who had generously offered to beat his wife in her presence.

Obama's first experience with triangulation

How Obama Triangulates

Sweden: Weird place -- Timeline & analysis of Julian Assange's "rape" charges

There was an episode of the sitcom, Cheers that I saw years ago in which a character -- on the verge of having a rare one-night stand -- turned to veteran womanizer, Sam Malone, asking how Sam escapes a woman's apartment the morning following a one-night stand.

Sam's replies: "I tell her, 'I'll call you tomorrow.'" Cue laugh track.

After reading the Reuters article "Special Report - STD fears sparked case against WikiLeaks boss" regarding the sexual assault charges pending against Julian Assange in Sweden, I see that he's as guilty of sexual assault as Sam Malone.

Here's a rough sketch of the time-line:

• Wikileaks released the War Diary: Afghanistan War Logs in late July;


• In August, Julian Assange is in Sweden and has consensual sex with Anna Ardin and another woman on separate occasions; the second woman buys Assange's train ticket to and from her residence;


• Claiming to be worried about STDs, the second of these sex partners tries to contact Assange and these inquiries lead to Anna Ardin;


• Anna Ardin and the second sex partner go to police, but not to press charges against Assange (reminds me of Amy Fisher going to Joey Buttafucco's house with a gun to confront Buttafucco's wife, but claimed to have absolutely no intention of using the gun, though she used to shoot the woman);


• Charges of rape are leveled against Assange, anyhow;


• One day after the rape charges are announced, they are dropped;


• Soon after Wikileaks releases 250,000 diplomatic cables, the rape charges (which aren't rape charges, merely "having sex without a condom" charges) resurface;


• Today, Julian Assange sits in a British jail awaiting extradition to Sweden. There is talk that Sweden will then extradite him to the United States, the country most embarrassed by the release of the diplomatic cables;


• It comes to light that Assange's first sex partner (in this Swedish debacle, that is) has ties to the Central Intelligence Agency.

If this were a movie I rented or a novel I was reading, I'd throw it away. Predictable. Who couldn't see this coming?

The facts are these: Julian Assange sits in a British jail awaiting extradition for having consensual sex, allegedly without benefit of a condom.

George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Tony Blair, Donald Rumsfeld, Henry Kissinger, walk the earth free and prospering, but Julian Assange sits in a jail cell for potentially having had consensual sex without a condom.

And Assange's detractors want the news-reading public to believe that this is just an ordinary course of events playing out, with no strings being pulled behind the scenes.

Uh . . . no.

This is clearly retribution against Assange for Wikileaks' releases, particularly the most recent two.

It's absolutely no surprise that Assange's Swedish sex partner, Anna Ardin, has links to the CIA.

She's reasonably hot (pictured above). She was probably activated by a handler to lure Assange to her residence (with probably very little effort) to perpetrate a deed that has nearly brought down presidents (think: Bill Clinton; his was a BJ, but we're still talking about naughty behavior that preoccupies and befuddles puritan minds).

Although the Reuters article attempts to piece together the actions of Assange's Swedish accusers, the gaping hole in the account is why the two women engaged the services of a high-powered lawyer.

After all, these are a pair of women who threw themselves at a marginal celebrity -- no different than groupies fucking their way backstage at the concert of a Bon Jovi cover band -- got laid, end of story.

Except one of those lays has connections to the CIA.

And has hired prominent Swedish lawyer, Claes Borgstrom.

This case is the very definition of a story that stinks.

Clearly, this is retribution against Julian Assange and Wikileaks. The Swedish government has made a complete laughingstock of itself on the international stage by pursuing this case.

And that laughter will turn to utter derision if Sweden extradites Assange to the Waterboarding Capital of the World: America.

The message is clear: Shut up, obey, and always wear a motherfucking condom.

Sorry, Bristol Palin, abstinence just isn't an option.

The only thing that has been raped in this case is Julian Assange's name and reputation.

Updates

Some interesting articles that may shed more light on Julian Assange's accusers:

• Arrest Warrant for "Sex Crimes" Against Wikileaks Founder Julian Assange Is for "Sex Without a Condom", NOT Non-Consensual Rape Using Force


• The Name of Julian Assange’s Other False Rape Accuser is Sofia Wilén


• WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange's accuser has ties to Cuban dissidents

"Hearts and minds" rethink

Best Argument Against Jihad: David Letterman

As time passes since the latest Wikileaks document release, it's becoming clearer exactly why American officials are so angry, anxious and filled with vengeance against the organization's leader, Julian Assange.

It's coming to light that people in the middle east, particularly Saudi Arabia, are fascinated by US culture, and are absolutely eating up American television programming:

From The Guardian:"It's still all about the war of ideas here, and the American programming on MBC and Rotana [a channel part-owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation] is winning over ordinary Saudis in a way that al-Hurra and other US propaganda never could," two Saudi media executives told a US official in a meeting at a Jeddah branch of Starbucks. "Saudis are now very interested in the outside world and everybody wants to study in the US if they can. They are fascinated by US culture in a way they never were before," the May 2009 cable says.

This flies in the face of 60 years of American foreign policy that dictates the only way to win the hearts and minds of indigenous populations of countries America seeks to dominate is to bomb them into oblivion, destroy their infrastructure, kill their families and torture those left alive.

What a bitter pill to swallow that it may only have taken a few seasons of Leave It to Beaver, Adam-12, Good Times and the Cosby Show rather than Agent Orange, napalm, white phosphorus, daisy cutters and whatever new weapons systems were tested out during the invasion of Panama in 1989.

It's said that among Saddam Hussein's video collection (found after the US invaded Iraq in 2003) was the Tom Hank's film Sleepless in Seattle.

Surely someone at the Rand Corporation could have figured out a method for exploiting Hussein's taste for mid-90s romantic comedy schlock. I mean, that is an enormous character flaw that could have been used.

Apparently there is a "hearts and minds" rethink occurring at the State Department.

If these leaked diplomatic cables can be trusted, then maybe America's attempt to colonize the earth is still feasible -- though it may take longer than expected (Henry Kissinger and Dick Cheney may have to undergo yet another round of implantation of young Peruvian kidneys, livers, pancreases and spleens, in order to see their goals realized).

On top of exporting its television shows, America should look at exporting it's cuisine, as well -- fattening up jihadists on Big Macs and Pizza Hut.

Getting Islamofascists cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, as it were.

Then, when the jihadists are winded just by going to the fridge for another Red Bull and just can't tear themselves away from the TV during the Lost marathon, the CIA could creep into the country and take control of all its natural resources.

This, really, could turn into a genuine cash cow for America.

Once the jihadists have Type 2 Diabetes, heart disease, IBS, seasonal depression, dry sinuses, erectile dysfunction, gout, aches and pains everywhere from their new sedentary lifestyle, American-styled health-care-for-profit could come in and reap the financial benefits of the colonization.

But old habits die hard. And there are still so many bombs to be dropped, rounds of ammunition to be fired, lives to be taken, landscapes to destroy.

There remains a "hearts and minds" gap in State Department thinking.

Let's just hope that gap turns out to be the one between David Letterman's teeth.

Pattern Recognition in Palin Nation

Three headlines on today's Reddit.com.

• Teens Becoming Pregnant to Get on 'Teen Mom'?


• College Really Isn't Necessary


• Top Test Scores From Shanghai Stun Educators: Secretary of Education Arne Duncan, "[t]he United States came in 23rd or 24th in most subjects. We can quibble, or we can face the brutal truth that we're being out-educated."

And there are actually people who don't believe Sarah Palin could win the presidency in two years?

Choosing the correct Time Magazine "Person of the Year"

I can't say that it's any surprise that Time Magazine would cave, cower or otherwise collapse under (political) pressure to remove Julian Assange's name from its Person of the Year list.

But there it is. His name is gone.

In 1st place this morning. Down the memoryhole this afternoon.

What else could be expected from a major mouthpiece of our corporatocracy? Nothing else.

So, if Julian Assange is persona non-grata to Time (which, in the past, has had Hitler, Stalin and Khomeini as it's "Man of the Year"), may I throw in a vote for my second choice for Time's "Person of the Year":

Robert Pattison.

Though still a very young man, Pattison is regarded as the Gandhi of his generation.

He has selflessly (though reaping quite some financial gain) placed his name and dignity squarely in harm's way by starring in the execrable Twilight series.

Pattison has gone even farther than that, carrying on an off-screen relationship with Kristen Stewart when everyone knows he could do much better.

If not for the Twilight series, the genre of Teenage Vampire Romance may never have gained traction in our culture. It might have died the quick, inevitable, ignoble death the universe's justice had lined up for it.

Then Robert Pattison came on the scene and made movies based upon the barely-literature limpid scrawlings of a sexually frustrated housewife.

It's now time for Time to bestow upon Robert Pattison his due -- Time's "Person of the Year."

Might I go a step further and demand Time make Robert Pattison it's "Person of the Decade" as well? Yes.

And I must say that if Ball o' Yarn: the Cat Owners' Monthly wasn't in print, Time Magazine would be my 73rd favorite print magazine.

May the flabby, flaccid deities of cowards urinate upon your collective head the righteous remnants of Bud Light Lime.

The evidence is in . . .

Toronto Mayor, Rob Ford: Prankster & Pragmatist

In a wide-ranging interview with Inside the Hotdog Factory, newly elected Toronto Mayor Rob Ford reflects about his time on the hit TV sit-com According to Jim and how he plans to make parking everywhere in Toronto free for one and all.

Before we got started, Ford put on a headset connected to his 18-line Lucent Technologies telephone and said, "Check this out."

He proceeded to call a Kentucky Fried Chicken location in Rexford, Kentucky -- this journalist saw the name and telephone number on a Google Maps page on the mayor's laptop screen.

"Hello, may I speak with the manager," Ford said when someone picked up on the other end of the line. After a pause, he said, "Then, may I speak to the shift supervisor -- OK, that's you. Perfect."

After bizarrely introducing himself as a local fire inspector (local? With no Southern accent?), Ford proceeded to instruct the shift supervisor: "This will seem highly irregular, but I assure you this is an absolute emergency."

Ford winked at this reporter and pantomimed jacking off.

He continued: "I'm going to need you to trigger the fire suppression system -- yes, you heard that correctly: I need you to trigger your fire suppression system.

"We're getting reports from other locations that the chemicals in the system have 'gone over' . . . yeah, like leaving cole slaw out of the fridge too long. Well, these rancid chemicals can actually cause a major explosion when they come into contact with fire.

"So, we have to get those old, bad chemicals out before there is a fire. That's why I need you to trigger the system.

"Once you do that, you may get some of the chemicals on yourself and some of the other employees. I must stress -- these chemicals are toxic and dangerous, so the moment you get outside of the restaurant, be sure to remove your clothing."

At that point, Ford put his phone conversation on MUTE and laughed for approximately 30 seconds.

"OK, I'm still here," he says on the phone, regaining his composure. "When I say 'go', trigger the fire suppression system.

"Go!"

At which point, Ford hangs up and removes his telephone headset, chuckling.

"Pranks always get the heart pumping," he says.

To the question of whether Ford believes Toronto will continue to be passed over as host for the Summer Olympics until it gets its Parking Enforcement Division under control, Ford says, "Obviously that's true. We should have the Olympics, and would have them, but for our parking Nazis, as they're called.

"My solution is to think outside-of-the-box, engage in a little asymmetric warfare, and I believe that making all parking in the City of Toronto free of charge will solve that problem."

When asked how the revenue from parking will be made up, Ford waves a hand.

He appears unready for the next question: "What could have been done differently during the G20 Summit to curb the scenes of violence and charges of police brutality?"

Ford thinks for a moment before offering: "We can't go at these things half-assed. We need robust budgets for this type of thing."

When reminded that a billion dollars had been spent on G20 security, Ford replies, "Only one? Well, there you go."

How does Rob Ford feel about the cancellation of According to Jim and his acrimonious parting with his costars?

"Look, Jim Belushi is an artist and Courtney Thorn-Smith is gorgeous," Ford says. "I'd just like to leave it at that."

As the next question was being asked, Ford interrupted, getting up from his desk: "I'm due over at Taco Bell -- I mean, I have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce. Thank you for coming in."

Cut short and out on the sidewalk, I looked for a light rail vehicle to take me home, but could not find one.


"At the end of the day, it's all about having a laugh" -- Toronto Mayor Rob Ford

It's true . . .

Batman and Robin diplomacy

A British cousin once asked me why "all the baddies in American movies are English."

I had never noticed; didn't know why. My cousin just shrugged.

As someone who went to school in the 1970s and '80's, I'm familiar with the musty old buzzword of that time, "stereotyping."

It was once a quasi-euphemism for "racism."

Now we have the poly-syllabic politically correct beaut: "cultural sensitivity."

From The New York Times:

A trove of diplomatic cables, obtained by WikiLeaks and made available to a number of publications, disclose a perception by American diplomats that Canadians "always carry a chip on their shoulder" in part because of a feeling that their country "is condemned to always play 'Robin' to the U.S. 'Batman.'"

Whenever a competitive personality believes someone doesn't like them, they immediately accuse that person of being jealous of them.

It's an incredibly old ruse, one which doesn't work on anyone with an IQ north of 70.

As to Canadians' "inferiority complex" "chip on their shoulder" and being "condemned to always play 'Robin' to the U.S. 'Batman', I must . . . laugh.

Very sophisticated, mature and dynamic discourse here. Very nuanced and subtle socio-political analysis tangling out the tendrils of intricacy of the relationship between America and Canada.

Actually, it's more on par with Bazooka Joe.

America is like the guy sitting behind you at the movies, who's talking to his date, chewing his popcorn loudly, slurping his pop, spraying the back of your neck with flecks and drips of both every time he laughs.

You turn around and say, "Could you keep it down? I'm trying to watch the movie."

To which America replies, "You're just jealous of my brilliant insights into this movie!"

"Actually, no," you say, "you're distracting me."

Later, America's talking on his cell phone, telling a buddy about the movie.

You turn around and say, "Would it be too much to ask for you to be quiet?"

To which America replies, "You're just jealous of my cell phone and my huge address book filled with friends."

"No, actually," you say, "I'd just prefer to enjoy the movie and not listen to you."

No, America, I am not jealous of your Westboro Baptist Church, or your Eric Cantor, or your for profit health care system, or your two unfunded wars, or Blackwater/Xe, or Wackenhut, or your Federal Reserve, or your 20,000 gun deaths per year, or your percolating second civil war, or Sarah Palin, or Glenn Beck, or your Halliburton, or your Transportation Security Administration, or the state of Mississippi, or the state of Lousiana, or the state of Arkansas, or your PATRIOT Act I, or PATRIOT Act II, or your Freedom Fries, or your Hollywood movies, or Dancing With the Stars . . .

No, you be Batman, America. Be Batman -- with my blessing.

I think Britain would make an outstanding Robin -- it always looked better in tights.

Who says bi-partisanship is dead?

Obama and GOPers Worked Together to Kill Bush Torture Probe

When it comes to obfuscation and outright deception in the pursuit of protecting abuse of power, war crimes and general high-level assholery, bi-partisanship lives!

It lives!

America to the World: "Do these Tyranny Jeans make my bum look big?"

To "Wilkins" at the American embassy in Ottawa, Canada:

I read the Wikileaked cable 08OTTAWA136 -- SUBJECT: PRIMETIME IMAGES OF US-CANADA BORDER PAINT U.S. IN INCREASINGLY NEGATIVE LIGHT today; a description of a few Canadian television shows as anxiously viewed by an American bureaucrat with his "Love America Meter" firmly in hand, taking readings and measurements.

Specifically, the bureaucrat in question examined the level of "American stereotyping" and "anti-Americanism" on Canada's "State run" (actually, "Crown run"; same thing) television network the CBC.

Shows viewed were The Border, Intelligence and even Little Mosque on Prairie, each causing varying levels of concern because America, American police, border and intelligence agencies were not presented as the benevolent entities showering candy upon children, as the bureaucrat in question seems to believe they are.

The pervasive issue in this memo? Negative stereotypes of America and American officials.

My observation: When Americans learn how they are perceived by others they often don't like those perceptions and therefore accuse the obervers of "stereotyping".

But my question is this: Is Guantanamo Bay a stereotype?

Are extraordinary renditions just hurtful rumors?

How about the constitutional vandalism of the PATRIOT Acts I and II?

In reference to an episode of The Border, the US bureaucrat wrote: "In episode one a Syrian terrorist with a belt full of gel-based explosives is removed from a plane in Canada while the Canadian-Syrian man sitting next to him is rendered by the CIA/CSIS team to Syria -- a fairly transparent reference to QCIA/CSIS team to Syria -- a fairly transparent reference to the Maher Arar case."

Thing is, the Maher Arar case is real. It happened. It didn't have to happen, but American immigration/border authorities saw to it that it did happen. Canadian authorities -- like a bunch of Boy Scouts in short-pants -- happily aided and abetted the wrong-headed American officials, making this case a bi-national disgrace.

The suspension of habeus corpus in the United States isn't a stereotype.

Nor was George W. Bush's brazen and criminal authorization of waterboarding, among other torture techniques, a rumor or stereotype -- wrenching useless confessions from victims whom we'll never know were guilty or not of crimes, all making outlandish confesions that have been compared to those made by defendants during Stalin's show trials in the Soviet Union in the 1930s.

And Canadian skepticism of the CIA? Well, The Company was kind enough to share its MK/Ultra horror with Canada, performing some absolutely hideous experiments on Canadian citizens -- unbeknownst to them, of course -- while they were patients in a Montreal mental hospital:



From Wilkins' cable: "The series [CBC's "H20" mini-series] was first broadcast in 2005, when it featured an investigation into an American assassination of the Canadian prime minister and a very broad-based (and wildly implausible) U.S. scheme to steal Canadian water."

Wilkins, have you ever seen the documentary The Panama Deception? It shows how the US installed Manuel Noriega -- a CIA employee and drug runner for the agency -- and then used his ouster as a pretext for destroying the Panamanian military so that the US could take control of the Panama Canal.

Going into another country to steal some of its natural resources -- that doesn't ring any bells of familiarity, Wilkins? Really? Like "swear-on-the-bible" really?
. . .
I've never known of a country with a greater, more pronounced and problematic inferiority complex than the United States.

"Love us! Love us! We just want love!" America cries all the while perpetrating distinctly unlovable acts around the world.

Part of the bureaucrat's conclusion after all of this television viewing:

While there is no single answer to this trend, it does serve to demonstrate the importance of constant creative, and adequately-funded public-diplomacy engagement with Canadians, at all levels and in virtually all parts of the country. We need to do everything we can to make it more difficult for Canadians to fall into the trap of seeing all U.S. policies as the result of nefarious faceless U.S. bureaucrats anxious to squeeze their northern neighbor.

Actually, America, you don't have to go to all that trouble.

Know what you can do instead?

Clean up your fucking act.

Wolf Blitz-krieg

Wolf Blitzer showing he's got the stuff to prosecute a case in the Hague against Wikileaks -- file photo of him performing in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in the role of Joseph in Minneapolis, 1995.

Canned News Network entertainer, Wolf Blitzer, is not only pressuring US authorities to prosecute Wikileaks for its recent release of 250,000 American diplomatic cables -- Blitzer is demanding to act as prosecutor in the courtroom, as well.

When CNN entertainer, John Roberts, pointed out to Blitzer that he has no legal or courtroom experience, Blitzer was quickly on the offensive, saying, "I never had any television experience before CNN, but look at me now!"

It was then that John Roberts turned back to the camera and said, "If this is any indication of the ferocious prosecution Wolf plans for Julian Assange, the 39 year old Australian hacker is sure to be drawn and quartered."

People are still buzzing about Blitzer's impassioned condemnation of Wikileaks' latest disclosure of secret documents, and the government's less-than-robust security:

Are they doing anything at all to make sure if some 23-year-old guy, allegedly, starts downloading hundreds of thousands of cables, hundreds of thousands of copies of sensitive information, that no one pays attention to that, no one in the security system of the United States government bothers to see someone is downloading all these millions -- literally millions of documents? . . . at this point, you know, it -- it's amazing to me that the U.S. government security system is so lax that someone could allegedly do this kind of damage just by simply pretending to be listening to a Lady Gaga C.D. and at the same time downloading all these kinds of documents.

In a candid moment away from the cameras in the Canned News Network headquarters, Inside the Hotdog Factory asked Blitzer why this was so personal.

Blitzer replied, "I just can't stand by and watch as our country's powerful elite are embarrassed by the release of their own words to the illiterate public."

4th Quarter Dick Cheney Award for Corporate Malevolence Goes to US Corporate Media

It's embarrassing when a person is caught not doing his job.

It's even worse when it's revealed that not only hasn't the person in question been doing his job, but that someone else has.

The U.S. corporate media -- 4th quarter recipient of the Dick Cheney Award for Corporate Malevolence -- has been a lap dog for decades to the powerful, compromised, self-interested, anti-democracy, freedom-mocking establishment of the United States.

Renegade journalist, Greg Palast, put it in perspective in the Foreword to one of his books when he wrote about the myth of American investigative journalism, saying that the reporting of the Watergate story by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward in the early 1970s was a one-off, a fluke -- such an anomaly that a movie was made about it.

Very true.

So, as CNN keeps its viewers abreast of developments occurring on Twitter and Facebook and the morbid circus on Fox News continues eating its own feces on air, as Dateline NBC -- in one of the most egregious abdications of journalistic responsibility -- devotes itself to solving 19 year old cold case murders, and ABC News and CBS News put on nightly displays of their irrelevance, there is Wikileaks.

Julian Assange and Wikileaks are heroes.

You can tell by the confederacy of dunces arrayed against them.

As Wolf Blitzer bloviates on the Canned News Network, worried about his State and corporate overlords doing a better job of protecting their fecund secrets, Julian Assange and Wikileaks is doing what a healthy and responsible journalist/news organization (though Assange and Wikileaks purports to be neither) should be doing: making the powerful elite walk through a full body scanner.

Since the American mind only responds to sports analogies, what's occurring right now between the United States government and Wikileaks is like a charity football game between a high school team and a Super Bowl winning NFL team.

The game is an utter mismatch.

Nobody, really, expects the NFL team to lose even a yard to high school team, and nobody expects the high school team to manage the least progress against the NFL team.

In the crowd for this game, you have the likes of Bill O'Reilly and Wolf Blitzer who heartily cheer-on the woefully under-matched NFL team.

Bill O'Reilly is such a scared rabbit of a person, he can only side with the school yard bully; he can only align himself with the powerful. Doesn't matter if the powerful is correct or has any moral justification for how it wields its power -- just being powerful is enough for O'Reilly's undying allegiance.

O'Reilly and his frightened, quivering ilk seek out power, subjugate themselves to it, ingratiate themselves to it, become the most saccharine, repellent sycophants to it. Then they puff up strawmen, like Wikileaks, making them sound like powerful entities, and cast himself as a dragon-slayer for going after them.

And so, you have many of the leading lights of the Culture of Life, anti-abortion contingent calling for the outright murder of Julian Assange. No due process. No trial.

Assange done wrong. Kill him! come their cries, as though from the apes in the opening of Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Noam Chomsky rightly points out the response to the most recent Wikileaks relase reveals America's "profound hatred of democracy".

Democracy is to America what Bruce Springsteen is to my musical taste:

I like the idea of Springsteen, but I don't listen to his music.

America likes the idea of democracy, but when it really comes down to it, Americans prefer Halliburton, the Carlyle Group, Wal-Mart, McDonald's and a hundred other corporate overlords to look after their well-being.

No problem -- just stop crowing about freedom.

The Wikileaks release is a rebuke to power. That's what freedom's all about.

And it's not as though Julian Assange does this alone, or unscathed. He's been smeared from here to Timbuktu. He was brought up on rape charges in the summer and authorities are trying their luck again with that ruse.

American senators and urinalists are calling for Wikileaks to be designated a terrorist organization and Assange an enemy combatant.

Yeah, that's exercising freedom just as Thomas Jefferson envisioned it. Wince.

And who aids the powerful elites at every turn to get their message out, to ensure their spin keeps spinning? The US corporate media, which in a truth-telling world would be know for what it is: The US Ministry of Information.

For gross and ongoing dereliction of duty, from President Kennedy's assassination, through the Vietnam War, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy's assassinations, through Watergate, the Iran/Contra scandal that had all the potential to reveal wide-spread drug smuggling on the part of US intelligence, the invasion of Panama, Ruby Ridge, Waco, Oklahoma, the election debacle of 2000 (particularly for that, you skinned peckers), 911 through to the Wikileaks releases, the US corporate media richly and egregiously deserves the 4th Quarter Dick Cheney Award for Corporate Malevolence.

You have aided the wealthy against the weak.

You have abetted the powerful against the powerless.

You have squandered every opportunity to prove your relevance.

And gawddamn it, anyhow, Datelines, what's with all the 19 year old cold case murders? It's like a come-as-you-are-party for corpses.

You're in company you deserve, US corporate media. I'm sure you'll recognize many of the faces at our Christmas party.