Very Dated Discord (the Cock Dilemma)

Dave Atsals

Cockfighting rings have been broken up in Phoenix Arizona, several of them since December.  The punishment, much like reading the Discord, is quick and severe.  Direct involvement can lead to a two year sentence, $150,000 fine, and decockmentation.  Just watching the cocks battle can lead to a $25,000 fine.  Fighting cocks is now illegal in all fifty states and is deemed by most (not including Michel Vick) to be socially incorrect in the modern age.

This has not always been the case.  In fact many prestigious figures in American History have been avid cockfighting enthusiasts.  Thomas Jefferson, while not pitching woo with indentured servants, was known to belly up to the cock pen.  George Washington liked to watch two cocks go at it. Andrew Jackson used to challenge his neighbors to match cocks.  Even Abraham ‘Cockcrazy’ Lincoln owned an entire flock of Gamecocks.  They all have their pictures on money, Washington is a favorite in my wallet.

Cock fights were an acceptable form of entertainment and sport, and nearly as popular as hockey is today (which isn’t that impressive).  The Bald Headed Eagle only beat out the cock by one vote to be are national bird.  I can picture our cock emblem flag flying proudly over government buildings and brothels.  “…and the cockets red glare…” (ouch).

These facts have led me to dig back through the ancient Daily Discord archives and search for articles relating to fighting cocks to see if any Discordians of old participated, or maybe even wrote with cock-feathered pens about the days of yore.  Apparently they did:

The Cock Dilemma

By Sir Wolfgang Atsals 1775

Horatio Zano and I keep putting it to the rest.  Benjamin Franklin has come with a potion he calls steroids from cow extract.  Horace and I have been quite effectively injecting our cocks with it (ouch).  Our monster cocks are just overwhelming all other participants. When Bald Cock Tony lets his tiny little cock out of the pen everyone laughs. Even that damn Irishman O’Tinno is in awe of our mighty cocks.  I whipped out a cock so big the other day a woman nearly fainted.    The problem is that although Horace and I have raked in a lot of silver lately, I feel the other competitors might bow out of the events.  Duel Wolfe is upset because his cock, although rarely used, has become limp and unable to participate.  Pete Winslow’s cock was killed, and Goober Crank’s cock would not even get back up into the cock ring. 

It brings into question the legitimacy of the “steroid question” and also that of money.  I do not feel we are cheating, but our cocks do have an advantage.  Our cocks are larger, very muscular, and generally more aggressive.  In the long run injecting our cocks may lead to the demise of the cockfighting ring, because the other competitors may drop out.  But, hey, better not to fight at all then to have your cock’s head bitten off.


Well there you have it; not only a past article on the topic but some very influential historians were involved in cockfighting as well as the Daily Discord.  It is hard to believe that cockfighting is being outlawed, but not the Discord.  Most past political icons certainly had a ball with their cocks.  George Bush, Nancy Pelosi, Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton, the Daily Discord Nation respectfully challenges you to show us your cocks.

Sadistic Cryptozoologist Found Plucking Feathers off of Rare Spotted Owl

Modesto, CA — At a local nature preserve a sadistic cryptozoologist, Dr. Derek Twinge, was found plucking the feathers off of a recently discovered spotted owl.  Since the bird’s rescue, park rangers have affectionately named the owl Athena (named after the Greek Goddess of owls.  Wikipedia down! Someone help!). The forty-seven year old cryptozoologist is said to have incessantly tortured the bird with a pair of forceps and several Baywatch episodes over the course of the last several years.

“It’s just fun…the torture, not the Baywatch episodes,” clarified Twinge.

Dr. Twinge faces seventeen counts of animal cruelty, most of which can be attributed to the particular Baywatch episodes in question.

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

Enlightenment seems such a mystery to me. The ego must be strong before it is destroyed? Striving for enlightenment is a barrier to enlightenment itself? There are so many ‘sound of one hand clapping’ type paradoxes that the main point keeps eluding me.

Dedra Farley

Tempe, AZ

Dear Dedra,

Very true, Dedra. At the heart of Zen are confounding paradoxes designed to help focus the mind. For example, to the untrained eye, even I myself may appear like an addicted amoral opportunistic, criminal-minded type, but in actuality, er……all right, bad example.

The Ghetto Shaman

McDOORIS: A Very Late Rebuttal Indeed

The Crank

Cell phones are the bane of society?  They will bring about the end of civilization as we know it? My ass. You are like the 300 lb.lady that came into the deli, telling the clerk (me) to make sure he leaves out the maraschino cherries on the rice pudding, as they have red #2 in them, all the while she’s puffing on a fucking camel.

This is what I told her: “Stupid fat bitch, I wouldn’t worry too much, if I wuz you. The smokes and weight will kill you long before the red # 2.”

I myself am an old fat ape, and even I know that as technology gets better, the world gets smaller, and time gets shorter. Through natural selection, I assume that in the near future, all humans will be type “A” personalities out of necessity. Why the FUCK would I get in my truck, and drive to wherever the fuck you are, get out, find you, and give you a message I could have given you in ten seconds over the phone? I wouldn’t, and neither would anyone else. Get used to it Pokester, or just take your place on the diorama in the Museum Of Natural History, next to the fucking Neanderthals.

Cell phones are like guns, there are idiots using them, and trained professionals. The idiots who text while driving will be cancelled out by natural selection, and possibly the large chrome grill on my Ram, if I’m lucky. And just like them, you too will take your place in the diorama of “died young of stupidity” if you don’t stop smoking. There is NO excuse. I was a smoker and it almost killed me. I was so hooked that when I tried to quit I was ready to kill. I eventually did quit, and just look at how laid back I am now, shithead. You are, I assume, a semi intelligent creature. You have to stop making excuses for your behavior.  Don’t be a Mickko.

My job would be near impossible without cell phones. So I shouldn’t use technology to increase my income while decreasing my use of fossil fuel? Brain dead? Uh, look in de mirror. There are people who look as if they might need surgery to separate them from their phones. If what you say about cancer is true, natural selection will take care of that too. I use mine for the relaying of messages, nothing more. Quick on and off, like my sex life.  I don’t have the time for idle bullshit. I’m sure that my weight will end my existence way before my cell phone does.  The only time cell phones are dangerous is when I shove them down maraschino avoiding, smoking, technophobic retards (hint, hint).

How about this gem from that article of yours: “As for me, I’ve had it with our age.  This technocratic society has reached a point of no return.  I’m done with TVs, cars, cell phones, iPods, internet bureaucracies, and this false Federal Government that promises to give us everything in exchange for our liberties. “ 

You sound like Mikko’s ilk, which is some real scary shit. Unabomber shit.

Oh yeah, and no more bastardized Joe Walsh lyrics, please. God will get you for that, or, better yet, I’ll make you a permanent chrome grill gnome.

Yours unruly



Intercourse, PA – Our own Ghetto Shaman is contesting allegations that David Carradine, the former television and movie star, hung himself in an autoerotic- asphyxiation session gone bad.

“He just wasn’t like that,” explains the Shaman.  “Sure he made me wear a clown costume and called me his ‘young grasshopper,’ but otherwise he was a missionary-only man.”

The Ghetto Shaman sends his condolences to the Carradine family and is wondering if he might get his Blood on the Tracks Dylan CD back, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

Amurican Education and that Bitch Kimmy Grenawitz

Mick Zano

When my fourth grade teacher, Mr. Healy, asked for potential solutions to our country’s refuse problem I thought, in my typical ‘hey, I’m only in the fourth grade but have the balls to raise my hand today’ kind of way, maybe we should send all of the garbage into space, or shoot it into the sun or something.  That was the general idea, and, no, I still haven’t gotten over his reply.  Now, he could have discussed the cost of such a venture, or the logistics of flying daily to the sun with a shuttle full of empty milk cartons, but instead my astute teacher, who always liked Kimmy Grenawitz best, said, and this part I remember quite vividly, “Space is the last place we want to pollute!”

Space; infinite, empty space; our sun, the giant yellow incinerator, thingie.  Whaaaa?

Not only did he say this with the exclamation point, and the italics, but he added the derogatory inflection as well (try as I might, I could not find the derogatory inflection button on my keyboard). Why do I think this statement reflects a generation of teaching?  Well, I don’t, but it was a damn stupid response to make to a fairly reasonable fourth grader.  Overall I had a very good experience in school, minus Kimmy Grenawitz!  But I did think, even way back then, that we have some serious educational gaps to fill in this country, besides Mr. Healy.

Let’s shift to my daughter’s experience, my little microcosm of America, a girl born in central PA, who until recently attended the best public elementary school in the district.  She’s only in third grade and she was already threatened with rather elaborate violence and pushed from the monkey bars, twice.  One incident resulted in a fractured wrist and for the second incident she was lucky enough to land on her head.  No one saw anything either time and both third grade perpetrators are still at large.  Recently she was studying for her PSSAs, which I believe stands for (Pennsylvania Sucks Serious Ass).  She was worried about these regional tests because as she puts it, “If I fail my teacher could get fired.”  She also told me during her math homework, the same day, “I can’t work ahead, daddy, or I’ll get yelled at.” 

No child left, period.

Forget my daughter; what does she know?  Certainly not math.  Let’s take my own undergraduate “work.”  I was talking with my old philosophy professor over dinner recently.  I mentioned how his class was so enjoyable that I even attended now and again.  Perhaps, it wasn’t my fault my attendance was so bad, maybe, just maybe, it is the professor’s job to make the coursework remotely interesting (after all, wasn’t I the customer?).  He laughed at the comment and then told me “space is the last place we want to pollute!” 

Dr. Dan can be a bastard.  

I changed majors from biology to psychology my sophomore year mainly because of the suckiness of the course work (although, admittedly, the decision may have been influenced by my tendency to spend my spare time chasing women toward the nearest keg).  Years later, I asked the professor’s assistant, my friend Tim, why invertebrate zoology sucked so bad.  I remember saying, I watch jellyfish on TV all the time and they seem interesting enough (the last Democratic Convention comes to mind). 

“It was a ‘weed out’ course,” he explained, “you know, to see if you are reeeaaallly interested in jellyfish.”

Why don’t we try to inspire our youth instead of weed them out? 

Tim said, “space is the last place….” (you get the idea.)

Onward to my graduate work. My MS in psychology was completed totally on-line.  Doing class work and homework entirely from a coffee shop is, perhaps, the apex of human accomplishments (next to striped toothpaste).  Now, if we could only figure out what to do with all this garbage.  Hmmm.

I only lost points in e-college when I used non-recovery model language.  Knowing things is not horribly important anymore in our society, but cultural sensitive issues are paramount.  A hundred-thousand dollars later and our children can learn how not to offend the socio-economically challenged, opiate dependent person they are over medicating (I say pocket the hundred grand and arrest that damned hobo junkie).

The cost of education has risen 440 percent in the last decade and treating EVERYTHING like a business in this country is starting to backfire worse than the Ghetto Shaman after a burrito eating contest.

Which career pays 440 percent more in the last decade?   How long is this stupidity sustainable?  I feel like telling my kids to study for their future positions the way God intended, in public libraries.

This generation seems immune to the Flynn Effect.  There is an Intelligence Quotient cliff that Americans just did a Thelma and Louise off of. Eventually the peer-reviewed research is going to start reflecting this fact (then again, when the peers are sitting in the driver’s seat of said convertible…).  These are all reasons taken quite arbitrarily and, by themselves, I don’t really think they say much (except about that brown-noser Kimmy Grenawitz!). What it does do for me, however, is start to draw a picture, oh wait, arts have been cut too. 


Al-Jazeera to Broadcast New Bin Laden Videotape in HD?!

It blows the mind to think Osama Bin Troglodyting is able to switch to HD, but the American people need a hundred years notice. Who lives in a third-world country now?  I have been waiting, patiently, for a decade or more for movies and television to jive. Most folks will never realize why their three-thousand dollar home theater still isn’t the same as the movies.  Is it that hard, people?  If you are not prepared for this format transition by now, you will never be. The dumbest thing Obama has done to date, besides squander another gazillion dollar, ah, what are the Chinese overlords calling our money now?  Anyway, extending the deadline for the technologically challenged is pointless.  I am willing to bet my last yenpeso that Obama’s six courtesy months will yield less than a dozen converts nationwide.  I can appreciate people in destitutesylvania battling their aluminum-foil-covered rabbit ears, but it’s time to make way for technology, coat hanger boy.  Why should I lose 1/3 of the movie for most of my adult life for people who are never ever going to switchover, or even friggin notice?  Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to kickback with a cold one and watch the latest Osama Bin Laden video the way Allah intended

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

In your book The Enlightened Mind on Crack at the end of the chapter entitled The Tao of Skull Fucking, what exactly are the Booty Sutras? I can not find any references to them anywhere.

Elsa Potter

Salinas, CA

Dear Elsa,

I don’t even remember that book. I was on crack; what part of that don’t you understand, Elsa?

The Ghetto Shaman

Torture:  It’s Not Just for Gitmo Anymore

Mick Zano

During my last discussion with the Crank over Memorial Day weekend, we did manage to reach the spirit of compromise in several key areas. We decided on Star Trek for the movie and Coke and Guinness for the BBQ afterwards, but beyond that…  We actually do agree on quite a few areas and can reach a compromise, of sorts, on other important topics (like appetizers and side salads).  The one thing we can’t seem to agree on, in fact, we both get rather heated when mentioned, is torture.  Torture is a completely indefensible position and the fact that we are having this debate for so long only shows how deeply the Bush/Cheney ideology has mired us in an amoral funk not unlike my sophomore year at college.  The Crank feels, much like Cheney, that we need to go to the dark side to beat these guys, not unlike my junior year in college.  On some level I understand the ‘24 scenario’.  A dirty bomb is being smuggled into Baltimore and the guy sitting in our holding cell knows when and where. Obviously, we need to get that info and, if real techniques prove fruitless, we would strain some of the Geneva Conventions, as well as a few muscles, to extract that information.  We just have to ask ourselves, what would a reasonable person do in that situation?  In this scenario prosecutions would be unlikely, but to base our laws on that extreme scenario is ridiculous.

If Bush had only bent the rules during the, aforementioned 24 scenarios, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but limiting this program to those acute episodes were never their intentions.  Rumsfeld’s grubby hands are all over Abu Ghraib.  A few bad apples?  Please.  We have memos with Rumsfeld’s handwriting on them, memos that set the stage for the fraternity hazing party that followed. You have to be entrenched in the Republican cocoon not to see that.  Using this fear-driven ‘24 scenario’ the last administration made a mockery of the rule of law.  They applied Suskind’s ‘One Percent’ Doctrine to everything in all directions.  If there’s a one percent chance we can get usable intelligence from this guy, torture the bastard. Meanwhile, in Iraq we invaded a country illegally (getting more illegal every day), we picked up swathes of people (an estimated seventy percent wrongly), and tortured them all for Jesus.  I don’t want any part of it.  Accrue all the bad karma you want for your own stupidity, but leave me the hell out of it. 

Perusing the blogosphere today I found a quote from Abraham Lincoln on The Daily Dish that, in a nut shell, summarizes just how wrong the Crank is on this topic:

“Our reliance is in the love of liberty which God has planted in us. Our defense is in the spirit which prizes liberty as the heritage of all men, in all lands everywhere. Destroy this spirit and you have planted the seeds of despotism at your own doors. Familiarize yourselves with the chains of bondage and you prepare your own limbs to wear them. Accustomed to trample on the rights of others, you have lost the genius of your own independence and become the fit subjects of the first cunning tyrant who rises among you.”

Is Obama Lincoln or is he that cunning tyrant of which Lincoln warned?  Leaves to be seen, folks, and the blame clearly rests upon the shoulders of those who cheered on the dismantling of the rule of law.  

Torture is an affront to who we are as a people.  If the Archie Bunkers of the world want to bat it around over their pork chops, fine, but why are our elected officials still arguing about this publicly?  There’s no debate; it’s a disgrace. And if we continue down this road there will be nothing whatsoever worth saving.  Bin Laden wanted us to become a shadow of ourselves.  Apparently, he is much shrewder character than the neocon-minded among us.  We may well have a man in office who sounds eloquent and caring, but behind the scenes the fact remains: he is doing whatever the hell he wants. I remain quite skeptical that executive power has returned to normal.  The list of Bush’s transgressions has gone unpunished, not unlike my senior year of college.  In essence, this gives the green light for continued executive abuses. 

I do agree with the Crank on this: the rest of those torture photos should not be released.  I saw what Abu Ghraib did for Al-Qaeda recruitment and for our own morale, but, remember folks, the next attack is all Obama’s fault.  Set up a non-partisan investigation (Patrick Fitzgerald) and those investigating should review the photos and make their recommendations.  Here’s the bottom line:  our CIA is under siege, but not because of the libertards. It’s because of the gross incompetence of the former administration.  Now every tactic is going to be scrutinized and intelligence gathering is going to be made infinitely more difficult.  They abused their powers, weakened our intelligence agencies, and now these entities will be subjected to scrutiny that will impact their very abilities to prevent future terror attacks.  But, remember folks, the next attack is Obama’s fault.  The impact on our future is obvious to those paying attention.  They have weakened our military, our economy, and now our ability to gather information (via torture) and sharing intelligence with other countries (poor credibility).  Feel safer?  From day one the neo-cons planned to blame the economic collapse and the next terrorist attack on the Dems. Sadly, many will buy it. 

But libertards beware.  Obama thus far seems completely Pelosi-whipped. Whipped by the only figure equally frightening as Bush/Cheney (though in the opposite direction).  How did she get into this position?  Who slept through the interview?  What were the voters of California smoking during that election? Oh…never mind.  

“Nancy Pelosi is the best argument against medical marijuana”

– Me

Obama may well be avoiding torture to protect Pelosi. Depressing, isn’t it?  Obama is not exactly instilling confidence in a restored system, but is highlighting a whole other set of deficiencies.  He may well be protecting torturers for his ditzy, Frisco pal.  I told the Crank recently, Bush and Cheney tore off half the Constitution and now Obama may well tear off the rest. 

The first and second amendments have never been in more danger.  The self-righteous, liberal pluralists have less patience for conflicting views than any other group to date.  They will take your guns amidst very unsure times, minus the ability to keep us safe, and they will destroy free speech in the guise of political correctness and “hate speech.”   Obama had a clear warning to Sotomeyer critics.  Perez Hilton attacked Mrs. America for expressing her views…in America.  From now on you can have views, just as long as they are my views.  They will silence dissenters with all the gusto of the Gestapo. But, they are from a higher perspective, so why not call Gestapo’s Angels?

But, in the libertards defense, they have reached this boiling point because of the last decade of abuses.  There is a war on religion for the same reason.  People are sick of the revolting real world consequences of a fundamentalist belief system.  Their message is simple, leave the stupidity in the pews, peeps.  But from Beck and Cowan’s Spiral Dynamic perspective, let me put it this way: liberals are functioning from a higher perspective; start acting like it!  Growing up means taking on more responsibility, not sinking to someone else’s level and tactics.  This is why MSNBC will ultimately be more accountable than Fox.  They should know better. 

Most of the people who are championing this ‘higher perspective’ are actually fodder for Fox News.  The shadow side of ‘green’ is frightening and when you look in the mirror, if you’re not careful, you’re going to see Nancy Pelosi staring back at you. (I may not sleep for a week).

The Crank has said “I want them to torture to save my fat beige ass.”

Those first interrogators were given the green light to torture after these detainees were deemed compliant by the CIA (aka, cooperating), but when they failed to help connect the dots between Iraq and Al-Qaeda, Cheney, a shrewd and demented man, knew the best way to get a false confession was via torture.  So as it turns out, it’s not about the Crank’s beige ass after all. It’s about war crimes to defend Dick’s delusions (dDd).  Can’t you see what pulling the cork and letting the genie escape will do to us?  If you want to have the debate get the leading interrogators in the country to discuss this matter.  You will find that the majority of the most qualified professionals feel torture is not effective.  So we are losing our souls for bullshit.  Only a handful of paid-for Foxers will admit otherwise.  Torture only begets torture.  Now reread the above Lincoln quote again fifty times.  There’s going to be a test.

Newly Discovered Seuss Manuscripts Are Troubling

  1. The Cat in Arafat
  2. Green Eggs and Hamas
  3. One Fish, Two Fish, White Fish, Jew Fish
  4. The Rocket in My Pocket
  5. The Mortar Near My Border
  6. Horton Fears a Jew
  7. Mr. Brown Can Moossad! 
  8. ABC What Happens When You Placate These Animals?
  9. The Grinch Who Stole Gaza
  10. My Foot in Your Anti-Semitic Ass Book

The Daily Discord: 2009 An Editing Odyssey

Dave Atsals

One contributor asked about the Discord’s submission and editing process, and no it wasn’t Pokey McDorkis.  He still doesn’t have internet access, or a clue.   L. Wolfe asked me, why hasn’t my article (sent to Mick Zano six months ago) been posted yet?  I explained to Mr. Wolfe, in true Discord fashion, the way an article makes it all the way from host to post. 

First off, after the realization that another article involving Thai Hookers is not what the readers want, Mr. Winslow approves the idea anyway.  The article is then written by one of our contributors, in this case L. Wolfe.  Typically the initial writing is done on bar napkins or coasters in a wide array of seedy establishments across our great nation.  The shredded rat’s nest of beer stained napkins is then handed off to me to decipher and type. This normally takes over a week, due to my inability to decipher or type.   Beware: blowing your nose carelessly before this first transcription phase can set back any given article several weeks. 

Mr. Winslow always says you go with the team of writers you have, not the team of writers you wish you had.  He’s a dick sometimes. 

The article is then emailed to Mick so he can fill in the unreadable words and the missing paragraphs that I failed to decipher. A week later I usually get an email requesting a resend due to “computer failure”.  My ass Micko; check your god damned recycle bin, jack ass. 

Two weeks later the article is emailed back.  I then print it out and begin what I refer to as Far Trek III: The Search for Poke.  Phoneless and rarely at home, finding Pokey is often harder than finding a skinny chick at Taco Bell.  I check the brew pubs, coffee houses, strip clubs, gutters, and massage parlors, often with no luck, well, luck finding Pokey.  He is often found smoking dung with the Ghetto Shaman under the Market Street Bridge. 

Recent events have made finding Pokey much worse.  He now has no roommate to point me in the right direction.  I also could not find him at home for two weeks due to the “Danger” tape wrapped around his entire residence.   It started as a small enough fire but got much larger during the period it took him to run to the local Denny’s to call 911.  (Did I mention he has no phone of his own and how dangerous smoke signaling can be?)

The article then spends a week with Mr. McDooris who eventually tapes it to his door for pick up (the door he didn’t char).  Smoke signals let me know that this phase of editing is complete.  This can be complicated, of course, by house fires and bad cooking.  Rain, sleet, snow, hail, and vomit normally need brushed and or scraped off the article at the time of pick up. 

Let the next round of deciphering, decoding and retyping begin.  Finally the article is done and is ready to be sent back to the original author for final approval. 

The article is then sent via email to our Chief Editor, Pierce Winslow.  This often involves the mysterious zamboni gypsies, especially when Mr. Winslow forgets to take his Risperdal, and another round of editing and losing of the article commences.  When everyone is completely dissatisfied and no longer cares about the content of the article, it is ready for upload to the Daily Discord.  When it is finally posted, sometimes months later, the process ends with someone saying “Oh Shit” after the realization that the original version has somehow been uploaded to the site.

Did I mention that, by hitting the ‘contact us’ button on our website, you too can be a part of this joyous and quite free epic process?  Send your article to the Daily Discord today!   Don’t waste another minute…that’s our job.

Proof of Jurassic Ark?

Taos, NM—Dr. Sterling Hogbein, of the Hogbein Institute and Waffle Shop, recently challenged the Creation Museum of Petersburg, KY, to produce “any shred of proof” to support their claim that dinosaurs co-existed with man.  A picture, depicted above, arrived several weeks later with a short letter condemning Dr. Sterling Hogbein, the Daily Discord, and, for some reason, the entire infield of the Florida Marlins. 

Dr. Sterling Hogbein, using his controversial ‘enhanced archeological techniques,’ conducted several tests on the image and claims his inability to disprove the picture’s authenticity “proves nothing save my own painful incompetence!”

How the Creation Museum’s picture is believed to support the notion that man and dinosaurs coexisted shortly before the time of Jesus remains unclear. The shadow of a toy dinosaur appears in the foreground of the image to the backdrop of a cartoonish figure, something in the Hanna Barbera family, possibly Scooby-Do.  Dr. Hogbein believes it resembles Freddie’s cousin, who only appeared in one or two episodes.  A second theory has surfaced which identifies the image as the lead male from Josie and the Pussycats.  “Our investigation is still in the preliminary stages,” explained Hogbein.  “We haven’t even ruled out Freddie himself, but the no-ascot-thing has us flummoxed.” Although the aged archeologist admitted that identifying DNA from an animated figure is “tricky business,” Hogbein remains hopeful that a positive ID will be discovered. Due to his recent ill-fated trip to the heartland, Dr. Hogbein is now suing the Creation Museum for the price of the entrance ticket, gas, and other travel expenses involving prostitutes.   Dr. Hogbein has added a severance package to his legal claim for hardships suffered during the excursion, or, as his lawyer put it: “being subjected to inner Kentucky for no legitimate purpose.”

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Ask The Ghetto Shaman

Dear Ghetto Shaman,

I read your book Lost Mojitos of Mesoamerica and, first off, what the heck is an Aikido Hummer?  Second, you say that you have a strong affinity for the Hopi Indians, yet you condone some very antithethical views such as secret prisons, enhanced interrogation techniques, and even torture.

Ellen Frazier

Billings, Mt

Dear Ellen,

Torture? You are confusing information from my chapter on ‘things I like to do to women’.  The Hopi have influenced my work in other ways. For instance, their peyote is primo.  Oh, and an Aikido Hummer should never be tried outside of one of my Midget Reiki sessions.  I make people sign a waiver and everything.  It’s the everything part that usually results in therapy.

Hopi this helps.

The Ghetto Shaman

The CRANK MANIFESTO: The Sheer Stupidity Of Going “Green”

The Crank

I understand full well the entire diatribe of reasons why we need to get the needle full of foreign oil out of our collective veins. But the main reason remains this: so the fucking Middle East can go back to lobbing sandbags at each other with catapults even the Geico Cavemen would laugh at.  Other expedient energy sources are fine, provided they pass the smell test.  In my own State of Arizona (as well as my regular state of confusion) it should be illegal to build a house without some form of solar energy. It’s called the Valley of the Sun here for a reason, which, of course, is why Nancy Pelosi is pushing for a Phoenix Hydroelectric plan.  Twit.  If you have ever tried to play golf in July here, it’s like the surface of the sun. The skin coming off my back in sheets is a testament to that. You could pee your pants in front of your mother-in-law at 120 degrees and 6% humidity and she wouldn’t know it.  I’m just saying…theoretically.  It’s the only state where your eyeballs actually shrivel. Up until recently, the brain sturgeons on the HOA’s wouldn’t even let you put up a solar panel for fear of ruining you neighbors view! Blistering dorks all.

If I lived around Yellowstone, or in Greenland, I would insist on thermal energy. Ah yes, Yellowstone, natures hot tub, our primordial stew, as it were.  I camp out there often in the hopes that a vertebrate Democrat might one day climb out.

Thermal energy is about the end of my tolerance for these yutzes.  Unless Obamamama plans on spending my great grandchild’s income on updating the entire electric grid, we are all in for an epic fail that magical day when everyone buys their 2010 Chevy Volt. In a few short days, we’ll fry our national grid like raccoons on the third rail.  You’ll see nothing but smoke and the smell of burning oil from their transformers clear into the stratosphere. 

Hybrids, lets talk Hybrids. Jeremy Clarkson said it best in his review of the new Honda Insight in the London Times: “The nickel for the battery has to come from somewhere, Canada usually. It has to be shipped to Japan, not on a sailing boat, I presume. And then it must be converted, not in a tree house, into a battery, and then that battery must be transported, not on an ox cart, to the Insight production plant in Suzuka. And then the finished car has to be shipped, not by Thor Heyerdahl, to Britain, where it can be transported, not by wind, to the home of a man with a beard who thinks he’s doing the world a favor.”


The company in Canada that mines the nickel has the WORST record on environmental pollution of any such company in the world, except China. If the same bearded man from Clarkson-land had purchased a locally made SUV, his “carbon footprint” would move from Lou Ferrigno size to Hannah Montana size. But I’m sure he impresses his like-minded friends.

Now onto florescent lighting. Soon all the U.S. will be forced to buy only the squiggle funny shaped mercury-laden bulbs that you can’t dim, all to save the world. The problem is my noble peons, the Chinese folks that mine the mercury for the bulb are minus the benefit of basic protection, education, or unions.  They are poisoning themselves and the local environment at an alarming rate.

Feeling green, yet? Yeah?  It may just be nausea.

Oh yeah, to meet Obamanation’s new CAFÉ fuel standards, our new cars will be dangerously small and light (they’re only heavy on the bad karma). Check out the crash worthiness tests from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. These Matchbox Cars save you money all right. You won’t need to purchase a coffin.  They can just lower you into the hole after the Jaws of Life fail to extract your libertard ass.

Fuck global warming.  Winter sucks a big wet one anyway.  We as a Nation, have lots of drilling to do right here. Offshore drilling MUST happen. The Exxon Valdez was 30 years ago, you tree hugging unshaven green teethed idiots.  Get over it. I want energy I can afford to buy. Clean energy I can’t afford to purchase is a waste of everyone’s time, with the exception of the Green lobbyists, those Congressional “Remoras” that hang on to our politicos to rid them of excess money that may be hanging around their gill slits.

I ♥ dead dinosaurs


Jurassic Ark?

Petersburg, KY—Evangelicals have wrestled with the mounds of overwhelming Bible-conflicting data that dinosaurs roamed the Earth long before Jesus.  To their credit, some of these Christianists have successfully married vast quantities of conflicting dogma. You can learn all about these stunning revelations with a two day pass to the Creation Museum in Petersburg, KY.  The price tag is only $29.95, which is recommended, because it’s a lot of bullshit to swallow in just one day.  Creation Museumists posit that two of each dinosaur went with Noah on his fateful journey to Atlantis (OK, I never read the Bible, but I have rented Life of Brian twice).  The museum even features a saddled dinosaur that kids can ride, just like Jesus did (like Jesus would ever pay the cover).

Who could forget when Jesus said, “Blessed are the Meekasaurs.”

What compounds the Creation Museum’s Jurassic Ark Theory (JAT) is the recent discovery of some super-sized dinosaurs in South America, circa 100 million years ago (Christian translation = last Tuesday).  The average brontosaurus is about the size of four elephants, but Argentinosaurus was apparently the biggest land animal ever and was closer to one of those Lord of the Rings’ Olyphants.  To house two of each kind of these newly discovered monsters, Dr. Sterling Hogbein, of the Hogbein Institute and Humidor, estimates Noah’s Ark would have to be “really fucking big.”

Dr. Hogbein, most known for his anthropological binge drinking, also had this to say: “Argentinosaurus, no doubt, posed some engineering challenges for Noah that could only be explained by divine intervention.  Oh…”

What is the Southwest’s Fascination with Jerky and Will They Get Over It?

Mick Zano

Since moving to the great American southwest, I have grown increasingly troubled by some of the local customs, color, and culinary transgressions associated with the high-desert peoples.  Normally, the thought of stopping at a jerky stand would never even enter my consciousness, but here, in the land of dirt, dust, and more dirt, I can not help but notice any and every business I pass in my travels, mainly because I’ve only seen four of them.  Somewhat disturbing was the moment I realized that the scant few ‘establishments’ found outside of civilization’s kindly influence involve a suspiciously high amount of jerky.  Two jerky related incidents struck me with considerable angst in recent weeks.  The first occurred north of Phoenix in a town called North of Phoenix where a fat man with a straw hat sat in the blazing heat selling jerky products to passersby.   It was over one hundred degrees at this particular moment in time and this man had no cold beverages to peddle, as if man can subsist on jerky alone.  I’m not just saying that…that’s what his homemade sign read: Man Can Subsist On Jerky Alone.  Granted, this is a free country, but that guy’s life insurance rates should be higher than mine, just on principle. 

Even more disturbing, he kind of reminded me of that guy from Motel Hell. You know, the movie that brought us the timeless passage: It takes all types of critters, to make Farmer Vincent’s fritters. What kind of critteresque roadkill was jerkied-up for my enjoyment on this hot Phoenix afternoon?  What would compel someone to stop at this remote desert jerky stand in the first place?  Is every fifteenth customer thrown into Farmer Vincent’s vat?  Or was the customer-to-vat-count much higher? 

Do you feel jerky, well…do ya?

What point of desperation and depravity could lead a man to eat some unknown jerkied meat-product from a Motel Hell-looking guy?  But then it hit me.  There is nothing, absolutely nothing, between Phoenix and my destination.  This was the proverbial it, as far as choices were concerned.  He had a veritable jerkyopoly.  To complicate matters, my stomach and my curiosity were peaking like Janet Jackson’s tit at a halftime show.  So, I pulled over and I stared at the straw hat wearing Farmer Vincent looking dude through my clip on sunglasses.  He stared back at me warily and somewhere nearby the theme music to Fistful of Jerky whistled through the dunes.  Thankfully, I remembered the granola bar in my glove compartment.  So I waved at the impressive stranger and turned my Explorer back onto the Carefree Highway.  One would pretty much have to be on a road called the Carefree Highway to chance the dietary unknowns associated with private jerky stand in the middle of Nowhere, AZ (Actually, in retrospect, Nowhere, AZ, was about fifty miles northwest).

My second, and arguably worst, desert jerky encounter (DJE) came complete with much fear and loathing amidst a Vegas trip to see fellow Discordian, the Great Bald One himself.  A typical road trip for me back east involved stopping enroute at every coffee shop and brew pub, where I would often write witty articles blissfully devoid of any and all jerky products.  It once took Pokey McDooris and I three days to make it the hundred miles from State College, PA to Harrisburg, PA.  We were actually shooting for Philadelphia, but never made it further than a brewpub called Bube’s Brewery (best of both worlds).  But here, in the Valley of the Sun, well, just north of the Valley of the Sun, my road trips tended to involve (gulp) driving to my destination. 

Here in northern Arizona piss breaks usually involve cactuses (if I’m alone), or the electric window (if I’m not).  For my first trip to Vegas I wanted to stop somewhere along the two hundred and fifty mile trip and get something iced or brewed or maybe even some non-jerky-related sustenance.  The only thing between Kingman, AZ and Las Vegas, NV, a two hour haul, was a stand on the west side of the highway called Rosie’s Jerky Mart, or some such place for all of your jerky needs.   I’m not just saying that, that’s what the sign said: A Place for All of Your Jerky Needs.  OK, I’m making that part up (won’t be the last time). 

This was the only place on the way to Vegas? This?  It looked downright dangerous, and I have been known to blunder, nah frequent, some rather unsavory establishments in my time.  Besides, if I needed a jerky it was going to involve a Vegas hooker and some Manishevitz.  Right now, I wanted a friggin beer. 

What is the southwestern fascination with this shit?  Is jerky used for some other purpose in this region?  Do all of the pickup trucks out here have a jerky indicator that blinks on if jerky levels are low?   I felt like a stranger in a strange land. 

The words Rosie’s Jerky Mart, or some such, were, if memory serves, spray-painted onto a large crude sign in the same style, though admittedly more grandiose, as the Motel Hell guy’s truck of business.  There was a small sign that said coffee, but I decided, hell, it’s only another sixteen thousand miles to the next jerky stand. 

I don’t know what I was expecting.  My last trip out this way, involving a man known only as Shag, was no different.  People have said to me, Mick, why did you expect lots of stuff in the middle of the desert?  And to these hypothetical intruders I would reply, it’s not the hundreds of miles between things that are concerning me, it’s what people are choosing to open hundreds of miles between things.  You know, without the kindly influence of civilization, business sense, or even rational thought.  If I stay in this region will I become one of the jerky boys?  I already have a healthy fear of jerky, but each lonely drive through this groovy jumping wasteland brings me closer to that jerking fear (little too Lovecraft?).

Do you feel jerky, well…do ya?

Pelosi Deemed Too Stupid for Any Accountability on Torture

Washington, DC – Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, is becoming further embroiled in the Bush/Cheney torture controversy as allegations continue to surface regarding her knowledge of the previous administration’s tactics.  President Obama is defending the Speaker of the House, claiming she could not have possibly known the importance of things told to her.

“After all, she’s an idiot,” explained Obama at a press conference earlier today.  “Her competence is strongly in question.”

According to a memo released by the White House this week, Nancy Pelosi asked only three questions during her CIA briefing on enhanced interrogation techniques.  Two questions involved the previous evening’s episode of American Idol and the third involved her predictions regarding the following week’s episode of American Idol.

President Obama then made the analogy: “You can’t blame Pelosi for torture; it would be like blaming Iraq for 9/11.”

After an awkward silence, Obama went on to explain how Pelosi’s only knowledge of torture is derived from the 1976 movie Marathon Man

“In Pelosi’s small and demented mind,” continued Obama, “no Sir Lawrence Olivier + no dental instruments = no torture.”

Sir Lawrence Olivier, quite dead, was unavailable for comment.

President Obama went on to say, “Look, you can’t expect someone to connect the dots with a broken pencil, no paper, and more air upstairs than one of those open double-decker buses.”

Dissatisfied with the explanation, our own Bald Tony asked two very pointed questions of the President: “If Pelosi is deemed too stupid for any accountability, isn’t this a slipper slope? Couldn’t the same argument then be made to protect Bush from any wrongdoing?”

President Obama dodged the slippery slope analogy by saying this: “Remember what Dick Cheney said to Senator Leahy on the floor back in ‘04?  Pretend I’m Dick Cheney and your Patrick Leahy. M-kay?”