76 search results for "Rome"

Vatican to Use Harry Potter’s ‘Sorting Hat’ to Pick Next Pope

Vatican to Use Harry Potter’s ‘Sorting Hat’ to Pick Next Pope

Rome, IT (or thereabouts)—Vatican officials, along with someone known only as the Albino Priest, have decided to “switch it up” for their next pope picking extravaganza.

When asked if the decision to use the ‘Sorting Hat’ from the wildly popular Harry Potter series might be deemed “way too f-ing Pagan” by some of the parishioners, the Vatican had this to say, “The gig is up, the cat is out of the bag, the fat lady is singing, and the altar boys are pressing charges. In no way will people continue to buy the whole ‘divinely picked thing’ at this point. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t absorbed some Pagan stuff before.”

The Vatican believes that “whatever they choose to pick the next Pope couldn’t be worse.”

The Albino Priest had this to say, “We hope to just incorporate parts of the Potter series into our faith. The Gospel of Dumbledore is due to release in June, and you can’t tell me we won’t gain some popularity with the young’ins with our Christ Church of Wizardry.”

As part of the deal, R.K. Rowling will be awarded an entire wing of the Vatican for weekly treasure baths.

“Rumors to divide the Catholic Church into congregations like Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff are just that, rumors,” said the Albino Priest. “Now if we could only get the sorting hat to stop picking Cardinal Snape.”

Winslow in Rehab; Six Days Off the Farm

Pierce Winslow

I have entered a virtual rehab to treat an addiction to Facebook’s Farmville. There, I said it. I have a problem, well, maybe not. But this thing is evil.

I have said from the very beginning that social networking sites are evil. Mrs. Winslow convinced me to join Facebook; I forget the justification. I got into it to a certain extent. Then I found myself with 100+ friends and a “news” feed from hundreds of people to whom I haven’t spoken in ten or twenty years. The sites tout their ability to help people reconnect, but how much reconnection is there really? I have this stream of minutia coming from hundreds of almost strangers. X needs coffee, Y needs coffee, X got coffee, Y is sick of spending $4.00 for coffee at Starbucks. Is this really reconnection? It’s mostly a stream of meaningless bullshit from over a hundred people. From time to time there is a truly meaningful bit, but those are usually lost in the stream of meaningless noise. I am an ADD software engineer. I spend hours every day scanning streams of text for that one little spot where there is a problem. I don’t find scanning 400K of tedious crap for those one or two meaningful bits relaxing. Apparently I am in the minority.

Check out teenagers. I know some that have 900+ friends and are proud of it. Come on, does a 16 year old really know nine hundred people? The friend count is like a badge of honor. Most of those friends are probably perves, or phishermen, or just people out there to do no good. So here are our children inviting them into their lives and giving them access to their personal information, thousands of pictures, and a minute-by-minute update on where they are and what they’re doing. Social Networking sites have become more than a colossal waste of time. They are an instrument of destruction. There are children committing suicide because of the torment inflicted by their peers on a stage of 900 strangers. And who do these children turn to for support? Those 900 strangers. See a problem here? A blind man could see it with a cane.

The media has recently been posting stories about how these sites are causing families to break up. People hook up with old flames, or find new ones, or just spend hours sifting through, and generating, megabytes of meaningless data thereby neglecting their reality. I believe it. Having three young children, there is precious little time to spend, awake, with your partner. Spending this time on Facebook, or networking sites in general, elevates these little tidbits of relationships online above what should be your most important relationship, thereby chipping away at its very foundation and causing its eventual collapse *whew*. You could be spending that time editing, posting, writing or drawing crap like you see on the Discord. As if this cacophony wasn’t enough, there are the apps.

Apps are not-so-little games played online with your friends. As if the stream of minutia wasn’t enough, they give you things you have to do. Well, you don’t have to do them until you start, and…my experience is with Farmville.

They start you off easy. Maintenance is simple, growth is fast, it’s kinda neat, and not a lot of bullshit. Then they suck you in. Pretty soon you’re at level 25, you have expanded your farm to 576 squares, and you have run out of free fuel for your harvester, your tractor, and your seeder. Sure you can get through the first hundred or so squares of harvesting with the free daily fuel, but then you have over 1000 mouse clicks ahead of you to complete harvesting, plowing, and planting. And that’s just for your crops. Then there are the trees, the sheep, the cows, ducks, turkeys, and fuckin’ cats. Since when is a cat harvestable? And have you ever seen a penguin produce ice cubes!??!? Pretty soon you’re begging your friends for parts to build a horse barn. And make sure you create that little square of impassable objects in the center of your farm to prevent having to wait half an hour for your avatar to wander around the farm doing the shit you tell it to do. It’s right about then that, just to make the thing playable, they want you to whip out your credit card to buy fuel, fancy decorations, fuel, and that ever popular hot-rod tractor, and, of course, fuel. The worst nightmare may be, as any a’ Farmviller will attest, the fertilizer, Fertilizer, FERTILIZER! *sigh* You need to send all of your friends gifts in the hopes that they will send you some back. When they do, you have to open them and put them someplace. Or, you have to put them someplace, open them, then go back to your gift box, open them again, and put them someplace, AGAIN. It’s like American Idol: it never ends and goes downhill fast. The shit’s like crack without the buzz. And Farmville is just a gateway drug.

Farmville leads you to Fishville, benign enough right? A virtual fish tank ten feet away from our real fish tank. I can’t get my five-year-old (turned five today actually; happy birthday Baby Face) to feed the real fish, or clean their tank, but she’ll get on that damned Facebook thing and scrub the tank, feed the fish, sell off the grown ones, buy new baby ones, rearrange the decorations, the whole nine yards. And this Fishville, inevitably, leads to….

Petville, where you have some chartreuse dog that runs away if you don’t check on it several times a day. And every time that thing runs away (every day) it costs you ~600 coins to get it back. And until you give it love, clean it up, give it food, blah, blah, blah, it is unhappy. Unhappy? It’s a fuckin’ algorithm for chrissake, an adaptive cartoon. Isn’t the real thing good enough? As if Facebook doesn’t have you bent over enough, you have to visit your friends’ pets. You have to have their pets over for a playdate. You have to furnish your house. You have to furnish other peoples’ houses. Could someone please furnish my house? My couch has seen better days.

Farm, Fish, and Pet-ville are just the tip of the Facebook App iceberg. There’s Yoville, Café World, Zyunga Poker, Mafia wars, Vampire Wars, and Methodists! There is so much crap going on there that their servers cannot keep up with the load. Of course, there are those taking advantage of the masses’ addiction by posting bogus “become a fan here and get a second chicken coop” things. My machine has paid the price. My virus scanner hangs scanning, coincidentally, Facebook[1].htm. I see a rebuild coming. That’s about ten or twelve hours of bullshit I don’t need right now. The proverbial straw was when I had to wait, literally, five minutes between accepting Farmville gifts while trying to build a horse stable in an effort to reduce my number of daily mouse clicks by 25.

I had been noticing that I was getting more and more anxious every time it was time to “do my farm”. It was hours of torturous mouse-clicks, and waiting, and tedium that my ADD psyche could no longer withstand. How about this? How about I reduce my number of mouse clicks by a couple of thousand, save my eyes from that numbing sensation brought on by another couple of hours of stream sifting, and drop this shit?

So, I am in voluntary Facebook rehab and have never been happier. I no longer dread the Repetitive Stress Syndrome to be incurred by my kids going to sleep. I have enough shit to do without spending my free time working. To those of you that really dig this, or have hours and hours of time to kill (and a good orthopede), knock yourself a pro, Slick. For me, I don’t know what I’ll do, sleep maybe?

Toyota or Christine the Next Generation?

Demon-spawn Toyota Corolla
Pierce Winslow

Since 1999 more than 2000 Toyota and Lexus owners have reported that their vehicles spontaneously began accelerating out of control, resulting in 19 deaths in 815 crashes, numerous injuries, and millions of dollars in property damage. The Toyota Motor Sales Company has blamed these incidents on everything from faulty floor mats to sticky gas pedals. However, the CTS Corp. of Elkhart, IN, manufacturer of the gas pedals, reports that none of the crashes have been linked to their product, a claim supported by the fact that these pedals weren’t used by Toyota until 2005. So what is going on here, aside from one of the greatest up-ass smoke-blows of all time?

Many industry experts have accused Toyota of feeding the American public a red-herring and of covering up the truth. They blame a hereto unannounced flaw in the electronic, drive-by-wire throttle systems in the modern Toyota automobile.  The Daily Discord has uncovered evidence that the not-so-recent rash of runaway Toyotas is not linked to defective floor mats, sticking accelerators, nor any bug in any software, but rather something much more demonic.

In 1983, the documentary Christine detailed the rise and fall of the possessed 1958 Plymouth Fury responsible for the deaths of many dick-headed teenaged bullies, as well as hot chicks, school personnel, and innocent bystanders (not unlike a typical Ghetto Shaman retreat). In the end, good won out when Christine was turned into a cube and crushed. However, we were all witness to foreshadowing of the return of that rampant roadster by that still-twitching piece of chrome trim. What they didn’t show us is what happened to Satan’s scrap as the cameras faded to black.

The Discord’s own Cokie McGrath followed a paper trail leading from the wrecking yard where Christine was cubed to the foundries of the Toyota Jidōsha Kabushiki-gaisha Corporation, known more commonly as Toyota. Apparently the Japanese, not to be outdone by the Chinese warm-war against the US, has devised its own plan to quietly eradicate the American citizenry. Instead of manufacturing toys with lead paint, drywall impregnated with mold, tainted vegetables, or buying our country one bond at a time, the Japanese government, in cooperation with Toyota Motor Sales USA, have devised a more devious and direct approach. They have designed their vehicles to be not just gas-electric hybrids, but paranormally engineered auto-demonic hybrids (PEADH).

Reports indicate that the still twitching block of steel, the last remnant of the now infamous Christine, was melted and diluted into thousands of tons of Japanese steel, all, coincidentally, purchased by Toyota Motor Sales, USA. This steel was slipped into production lines at Toyota’s US foundries years later, once the company had solidly established itself as the most trusted, and leader in US auto sales. The result: roads overrun with cars trying to run us over.

It is estimated that Toyota has released some 4 million of these crazed cars into the general population. Why are they doing this? Is it backlash from not removing our army bases? Are they still pissed about that whole atomic bomb, generations of birth defects thing? Have they just been driven mad by having their cities destroyed by Godzilla so many times? And how do we deal with this situation? It is thought that the only way to counter the effects of Lucifer’s low-rider is to re-dilute the possessed pig-iron with an amalgam of Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang, Herby the Love Bug, and the Partridge Family bus. However, herding together four million of Hell’s hatchbacks for a massive meltdown may prove to be problematic. In the mean time, the next time you hear “We Belong Together” from behind you, in scratchy mono and bad AM, run for the hills.

Good night and good luck.

An Open Letter to Ed “Erectile Dysfunction” Whiteacre, Chairman of GM

The Crank

Looking for a new CEO?  GM has been run by its bean counters for more than a decade now. See how well that’s worked out.  Putting Henderson out to pasture was a smart move. Don’t blow it now! Finance guys can’t run car companies; former telephone exec can’t run it; so who can?  He is already on your staff, you autotard. He knows more about CARS than anyone out there. Bob Lutz is sacred to us car people. He is master of all that uses liquid dinosaurs and makes “The Good Noise”. They say, if you prick him, he bleeds 20w50. They say, he sleeps in a bed that is a full sized replica of a Testarossa, sans top. They say, his children are named Hurst & Shelby. They say, the head of his member has a shift pattern tattooed on it…

GM Vice President Robert “Maximum Bob” Lutz has recently stated to the press something that really says it all about governmental intrusion into the auto business:

“We are in the Automobile business, not the societal improvement business.”

Ooooooowe.  There’s that “feeling going up and down my leg” that Chris Matthews must have been talking about.

If you don’t build CARS everyone wants to BUY, everyone loses. You are a fucking CAR company.  Please re-read that last two sentences as many times as it takes for you to sink into that F-ing brain of yours. When the “Old GM” wanted its free money from our resident fascist in power, it was obvious that our very own “Il Duce” wanted something in return. He wanted the door to hit Rick Waggoner and Bob Lutz in their collective asses on the “way out.”  Waggoner was a dipshit, so who cared, but Bob?

“Maximum Bob” is in his mid-seventies.  He has more money than God, and he loves making and selling cars. He knows more about the business than anyone all the idiots on the “Auto Advisory Board” combined. That’s why he had to go. The last thing they wanted was someone who actually knew more than they did…someone who would argue with them, someone who couldn’t be bought, someone who wouldn’t kowtow to their wishes, someone with ‘God forbid’ standards.

Secretary of Transportation, Ray LaHood, said in May that his livability initiative “is a way to coerce people out of their cars”. When asked if this was just more government intrusion into people’s lives, he responded “About everything we do around here is government intrusion in people’s lives.”

A government report says reliance on electric cars will do very little to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.  It will just shift our dependence from one set of problems to another. The GAO report says that a plug-in car, if recharged at an outlet drawing its power from coal, provides a carbon dioxide savings of only 4% to 5%. If the feeling of saving the environment from driving an electric car causes people to drive more that small amount of savings vanishes. Bob knew this all along. It was all useless bullshit spread around by certain fat ex-Vice Presidents and GE. Many CEO’s stood to make a fortune on Crap-N-Turd.

I cried tears of joy when I heard the news that Bob decided to “un-retire.”  It wasn’t all over, after all. There was still a chance I could hear the sweet, sweet tones of a well tuned Hemi V8 pass me like I was standing still. I could still smell the burning rubber at stoplights. I could still have the chance to rest my gaze upon fat tires, chrome wheels and bright paint—knowing full well there was, in fact, a large powerful engine under that hood.

When the “interim” GM CEO Fritz “I’z just a bean counter” Henderson was asked if the “late” Pontiac G8 rear drive V8 was going to be moved to another brand when Pontiac was put in its own little closet of doom, he said “No.” He wasn’t a fan of re-badging, and a large V8 powered rear drive passenger car was not in the future for GM. “Maximum Bob” was asked the same question in an interview right after his not-going-away announcement. He said that it was going to be a Chevy, probably called Caprice, because “it was just too good a car to waste.” Oh my, a real “Screw You, Barack” model, if I ever heard one. It is now acknowledged as being the basis of GM’s new cop car, slated to recoup some losses of fleet sales from Ford and the pre-historic Crown Vic, soon to be Caprice SS?? We’ll see…

For the people that dismiss being a “car guy” as infantile, and that a car is just a way to get from point A to point B, I remember a “Home Improvement” episode where Tim’s wife was dissing his Hot Rod. I remember him saying his car was a part of him, an extension of his personality, of who he is, and to dismiss it was to dismiss him.

I couldn’t agree more….

You are dismissed.

You have tried the rest, now try the best
MAXIMUM BOB LUTZ FOR CEO
NOW, BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE

The Crank

An American Werewolf at Zeta

An American Werewolf at Zeta
Mick Zano

This yarn is embellished approximately one-to-five percent due to age-related cognitive-decline, also known in certain Discord circles as Dave Atsals’ Syndrome (DAS).  This tale is going to sound fictitious, like many of my stories, but I can assure you that those who knew me in the eighties and nineties would understand.  You see, I settled down in the twenty-first century, when Dean Moriarty somehow morphed quietly into Ward Cleaver. Anyway, back in the Bruce Springsteenesque glory days, the night was dark and stormy.  OK, the moon was very full, which may or may not have inspired me to dress like Lon Cheney’s version of the Wolfman.  You know, old school.  This was before American Werewolf in London, before Underworld, or even before Old School, for that matter.  Back in those days we only had Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, and Warren Zevon to frighten us.  If that didn’t work, my GPA usually did the trick.  

After my transformation, I headed down to the Zeta sorority house with my then girlfriend, Whatshername.  Note to self: it’s never a good idea to take a date to a sorority house party.  It marked the beginning of the end of our relationship. As the party waned, I exited stage left, minus my girlfriend or any of the Zeta sisters.  As I stumbled back to my dorm, I couldn’t help but notice how the soccer field net looked like a massive, yet at the same time, very inviting hammock.  As it turned out, in a pinch, soccer nets can sufficiently fulfill the role of a hammock.  The only problem being, police and or other law enforcement officials do not feel that soccer nets should be used in such a capacity in the wee hours of the morning by drunken lycanthropic college students. Suddenly, two large high beams silhouetted me and my hammock-antics against a rocky outcropping on the far side of the field.  I raised my cup in salute to my hammocked-self and may well have attempted shadow puppets, before the significance of the light show sunk in.

When the situation became apparent, I shifted into character by hissing and growling at the intrusion and then I leapt down from the soccer net.  Attempting this today, would mark the end of my tale—unless I did something funny at the police station, which has been known to happen. But, not at all amused, the coppers exited their vehicle and slammed shut the car doors.  Still in character, I sprinted across the field.  Once to the wood line, to my shock and amazement, the two officers were right behind me with bobbing flashlights.  I snarled at the pursuers and made for the woods at the corner of the field and then scrambled up a fairly steep embankment.  Again to my dismay, the bobbing lights followed.  Now picture this if you will: still growling and hissing with atmospheric bobbing head lights in hot pursuit, I made my way up that mountain.  The whole time I was thinking, “this is way too cool!”

Some mist on the ground would have been perfect!  I stopped to take a leak, which wasn’t exactly dry ice, but it couldn’t hurt.

When I reached the crest of the hill, I came upon a small clearing at the summit.  The lights of my pursuers finally faded as the woods grew still.  In the moonlight, my eyes focused on a hodgepodge of very old and decrepit tombstones.  A whirring and flapping of membranous wings split the night as the sound of a distant arcane church bell gonged thrice with an unearthly resonance across the ancient necropolis (OK, this sentence is just a Lovecraft tribute. They happen from time to time.  I’m trying to get help, honest).

But I had, quite unwittingly, entered some old cemetery—dressed as wolf, on Halloween night; chased there by the bobbing lights of the authorities (do you begin to understand why my date bolted?).  For a short time I relished the moonlit atmosphere.  Then I did what any good werewolf should; I bayed at the moon until my throat grew raw.  Upon heading back down the hill, I feasted on the flesh of the Zeta girls in a carnal and cannibalistic frenzy.  OK, that part didn’t happen either…at least I’m reasonably sure.   I wasn’t horribly fond of the Zeta sisters, so maybe…

Happy Halloween!

Obamacare:  Is the Public Option Really a Pain in the Privates?

Mick Zano

Yesterday, a guy standing on a corner in downtown U.S.A asked me, “Would you sign this petition to support universal healthcare?”

And I said, “Unlike the rest of the country, I’m rather ambivalent about the whole thing.  Our current healthcare system sucks ass, but more government bureaucracy is rarely the answer.  Besides, the Dems are never going to get the bill passed, because Dems are, by their very nature, pussys.”

Now, I didn’t actually say that last sentence to that young college idealist.  I did say something arguably similar, such as, “Nice dog.  What’s that a retriever?”

But the other statement was implied.  If he was really listening, he would have picked that up. 

Back during the Bush fears people protested the dismantling of the Bill or Rights, wars of choice, and the freakishly frightening expansion of executive power (FFEEP).  They marched into town halls dressed in pink or some such, and I applaud them for it; heck, I was one of them.  I can accessorize in pink with the best of them.  Today, across our great nation, we had an organized group of political assassins invade our town halls to derail the debate itself.  Under Bush, town hall meetings were designed to disseminate White House talking points to a chosen few, prescreened sycophants.  Nothing would be derailed with a Bush protest, because there was no discussion, only proclamations and bullshit-ridden mandates from the neococoon.  No worries if you didn’t hear it over the screaming libertards, folks, we’ll repeat the message on Fox News a hundred more times by Thursday.  On the contrary, for this healthcare fiasco, folks went into town hall meetings to dismantle the actual debate itself. They didn’t want to even talk about the real issues, because America might choose “unwisely.” 

Translation: my personal stock portfolio might suffer.

The fact is, we were assailed by ringers, people in cahoots with Republicans and insurance companies, whose soul purpose was to scare the living shit out of the terminally dimwitted (maybe death panels could have practical purposes, hmmmmmn…I’m just saying).  The debate really comes down to this: behind door number one we have our current healthcare system, which is putting small businesses out of business everyday.  The rates are increasingly unaffordable and by 2050 Warren Buffet’s cryogenically frozen ass is anticipated to be the last insured American.  And even he will probably be bitching about his skyrocketing co-pays.  Door number two: for Obama’s plan you could keep your insurance or you could use a government run option similar to our VA system (which even Bill Krystol admits runs well). That’s about it.  A little healthy competition.  Maybe it wouldn’t be this huge government take-over.  But, of course, you don’t know what Obama’s plan really entails, because all you heard was: death panels, socialized medicine, Mexican Radio (1983) Wall of Voodoo. (I still can’t figure out that last one).

“But government isn’t the answer; it’s part of the problem.” 

There you go again…

That statement is ubiquitous in my worldview, but for most it seems only relative depending on who is in power.

Death Panels? AHhhhHHHhHhhhhh! They’re trying to kill my Alaskan Governor with Down Syndrome!

Oh, really…it’s her son that has…er.  And she’s no longer Governor.  Well, this is embarrassing.

 Death panels?  Really?  I have never heard anything so ridiculous derail public discourse since, well, insert any Discord post here.  In our current healthcare system, insurance companies and doctors determine whether or not you get the procedures approved or not.  Er, sounds eerily similar.  Or, if you do get the procedure approved, your insurance covers only a percentage, and they foreclose on your house to pay the difference.  It’s very American.

A certain faction of our population is in complete denial about the realities and limits of our current healthcare system and even our own mortality as human beings.  Every day doctors and administrators choose who gets what procedures.  Those “death panels” already exist as Advance Directives (which covers end of life choices).  A thousand page document and that’s the best you could do?  Well, it did work.  Truth is not nearly as important as the end result these days.  Very Crankvellian. But you keep scurrying around Chicken Littles; you’re so much fun to watch.

I run around and yell the sky is falling, when the sky is actually falling.  You yell the sky is falling when Fox sends “the transmission”.

I work in behavioral health and, as our budget slides into the abyss, we are deciding every day who gets what services in mental health land.  More and more crazy people wander our streets because our current system has more gaps in it than the combined malls of America.  Sorry, folks, but offering free service worked when this was a vibrant country with assets backed by things of actual worth. Hint: this is not that time.

Fact: today a homeless man in Tucson is not entitled to every procedure known to man to save the liver he decided to kill with several Maersk freighters worth of vodka.  Fact: the same would be true for with the public option.  And, yes, your insurance is only going to cover certain procedures.  Most of us normal peeps are not entitled to mega coverage, all the latest equipment, and a team of specialists headed by Dr. House, nor is it feasible.

Jon Stewart recently interviewed the originator of the death panel nonsense (you mean, Palin didn’t start it?) and, believe it or not, she’s even making less sense than old Sarah.  Stewart had to rip a page out of her hand to read the very phrase of Obama’s policy that made everyone go stark-raving mad.  The targeted phrase was something like: “the doctor can talk to you about life sustaining processes and end-of-life choices.” Here is the math:

Life sustaining processes + choices + stupidity + propaganda = death panels

I can see that.  I just forgot to carry the logic, is all.

I don’t trust the government either, but you cats are whacked. Look, I remain passionately ambivalent on this issue. As I’ve said before, we should focus on insuring our children and the truly disabled (aka, Republicans).  We’re going broke, so the plan needs to be realistic.  If that works, maybe healthcare coverage could be expanded to include the Discord staff and their families.  But why are so many people afraid of changing healthcare when the present system sucks ass so bad?  What’s worse than sucks ass?  OK, the next plan might suck balls, which is arguably worse.  Fox News started mass hysteria over a decision between a healthcare system that sucks ass and a healthcare system that sucks balls.  Well done.   

Obama’s plan might have added a great option for some and could have saved many many lives.  We’ll never know, because we never had the debate.  But wasn’t it heart warming to see stocks in United Healthcare and Pfizer rally the other day, when it became clear that the public option was failing?  Of course, the rest of the DOW dropped like a certain Republican senator’s pants at a truck stop men’s room, but it was still a feel good moment for the patriotards.  Perhaps you and Senator Craig should get a room.

I would like to point out, here and now, that you are not the tools of entrepreneurialism, but rather you are the tools of super capitalism, or maybe your just tools.   Most of you are so far removed from super capitalism it would take real math, Stephen Hawking, and a warp capable vehicle to even reach.

You will vote against your own interests time and time again. Soon you will probably not be insured or, if you manage to hold onto that precious policy, it will be jeopardizing your company’s very existence to maintain your benefits.  Can you say raise freeze? And, as time goes by, the insurance companies are going to get better and better at this game and you will lose more and more coverage as your premiums climb into the stratosphere.   So you won’t be able to pay the cover at the door and you’ll miss part of the ultimate Vegas experience.

My health insurance premium should not be as high as my rent.  The insurance company plans to fix that.  Soon it will be higher than my rent.  Enough is enough. I’ll show them.  I’m going to move into my hospital’s MRI machine.  Hang up my Hendrix poster and roll a fat one. 

This is what we are all facing as this current healthcare system continues its present trajectory and buries itself deep within our collective bowels. Oh, wait that procedure is not approved under your current policy either.  Sorry.

It should be interesting to see what is next on Obama’s agenda and what nonsense will be fabricated to derail it.  Fox News could get the patriotards to fear Jello products if they wanted to.  Stop the Jello menace!  Jello will lead to socialized gelatin extremism.  Then the t-shirts will adorn the Drudge Report: Jello is UnAmericun, Jello is Pudding Us On.  Oh, I can’t wait.

Jello is American as apple pie, damnit.  I won’t sit here and listen to you bad mouth an American Confectionary Institution!

I will try to stay ahead of this game.  As Obama proposes his policies, I will try to guess the Fox fear fabrication (FFF) to come. That should be fun and educational.  Well, not for half of you.  But to continue to prove, once again, that I am not a pessimist: here is my good news/bad news installment for the week: 

Bad News: Fact: an estimated 52 pubs are closing in England EVERY day. 

Good News: Fact: ninety percent of U.S. currency tests positive for cocaine! Par-tay!

The Patriotard Menace: A Crank Rebuttal

Mick Zano

Listen up patriorards…oh wait, so you all put on your thinking caps, this is a Fox News Alert! There, now that I have your undivided attention: the Bush legacy is inextricably linked to the Sarah Palin Phenomenon (SPP). The only reason I mentioned Bush was to segue to the stupidity yet to come. A vote for Bush Part Deux and then supporting Sarah Palin is not a position, it’s a diagnosis. Doing the same thing over-and-over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. Dr. Killpatient, have the Thorazine ready. I am appalled that the same people who voted for Bush, twice, are enthusiastically supporting his female counterpart to set things right in 2012. I am even more appalled that we’re talking about nearly half the country. I never said you were alone, Goomis, it’s just that you should be. As the “mental health professional” in the room with over six years of bachelor level education, when really it was only 5 ½ years, exaggerator, going from Bush to Palin is like divorcing your first husband for beating you and then marrying that sweet hunky guy down the street, who immediately starts beating you! As my domestic violence therapist oftensays, your picker is broken. But that’s OK. These things are fixable, but the first step in the healing process is recognizing the problem. This isn’t just a post, peeps, it’s an intervention.

Crank, there’s very little I can argue with in your last post, because you consistently misrepresent my position. With one notable exception: “Mick, you really haven’t actually read any of her (Sarah Palin’s) stuff, have you?”

She can write?!

Sadly, the Fox News ideological pattern is neurological and it seems We the People have suffered from some kind of society-wide stroke recently. From the psychiatric perspective, the neococoon certainly is anti-social, neurotic, and stress inducing (like Midget Reiki). What we are witnessing is the Hannitization of the Republican base. Facts and logic have no place here. Only facts that back their own ideology are viewable from the reason-twisted depths of the neococoon. Patriotards hate the alternative so much that they will follow any Tom, Dick or Sarah that is believed indigenous of “Real America.” In one of my articles, I discussed how the human mind is easily tricked (again and again).

  • Fact: our minds are easily duped by any semi-talented media spin meister.
  • Fact: we should be on the lookout for this in the future, because the media has completely tanked.
  • Fact: you’re not getting it yet.

Here’s the even sadder part. History goes in cycles because eventually people forget the mistakes they once made and, oops, history repeats itself. What is stunning these days is this: people don’t even realize they made the mistake in the first place. So now, presto, we can avoid all those pesky decades of reform and make the same mistake six to eight seconds later. Here’s how it works: some talking head puts the dirty laundry on the spin cycle and we, as a society, are ready to lock-and-load a few minutes later with Bad Idea: Part Deux.

Enter Sarah “I really don’t know a hell of a lot” Palin. How does one penetrate this bubble of non-reality? This is all deeply disturbing to me, like my friend Shag.

Hey, let’s play a game. Name one credible conservative pundit that…

Oh, a hard game.

Now, now, let’s name a credible conservative pundit who has been right about something in the last decade. …

This game sucks! I don’t want to play.

Wait, here’s the clincher. Name one of those four conservatives left standing that thinks Sarah Palin is a viable candidate in the near future?

You mean, there aren’t any?! So she’s sooo poorly qualified that her profound lack of experience, credibility, and smarts has even pierced the impossibly thick exoskeleton of the neococoon?

You mean to tell me, no dems, no independents, no one from any other county on the planet, and *gasp* no credible Republican thinks she’s a viable candidate? What about David Frum? George Will? Andrew Sullivan? Christopher Hitchens? Heck, even your own hero, Charles Krauthammer, thinks Palin’s a joke.

So how, according to the latest Rasmussen poll, are 42% of the population of the United States of Dysphasia even less informed than the people with Terminally Wrong Syndrome (TWS)? Hmmmm. Oh, that’s right, a few conservative propaganda experts are still grinding out those 24 hour snooze cycles that are somehow successfully downloaded directly into the brainpans of the patriotards.

Now, I admit, Palin is getting a raw deal. This poor woman was thrust into the limelight by this crazy old coot, who, incidentally, stopped making sense several years ago. But couldn’t that also explain the George W. Bush story?

Thanks a bunch Herbert Walker Texas Deranger and John McCognitive Decline.

The Democrats suck, but they’ll be out of power in no time because, say what you want about those liberatards, they won’t vote in a total asshole twice. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice………………..we won’t get fooled again.

At least the dems went into this round with two of their star pupils (sad as that may be).

On the other hand, here is the vetting process from the neococoon in its entirety:

Raise your right hand if you love America.

OK, great.

Raise your right hand if you think the world is 6,000 years old

Great, you’re in.

What’s not to love?

Your quote: “the thought that if you are conservative, religious and value all human life you can’t be taken seriously is flawed in every sense.” I agree. That was the whole point of my last article. Thank you for summing up my point. You can take off the Hannity filter any time now. You are free to move about the cabin. Newsflash: conservatives have some important ideas and represent a valuable perspective, but the problem is, it’s been hijacked by morons. One’d think you’d notice.

I’m really crossing my fingers this point sinks in. Here it goes: it’s not about your views, Crank, and never has been; it’s about your unswerving ability to hire third-graders to champion your views.

Yes, Fox is huge, which is, once again, my point. They are the quintessential bottom feeders. Why are they so big? Not a great sign for the future. Liberals don’t have to like Air America either. They are both ideology driven, only Air America has four viewers and Fox has half the country. And, your quote “maybe he (Obama) should leave office now.” Are you kidding? You and the Foxers cheered on the worst president in history for nearly eight years. In six months, I am already greatly disappointed with Obama. You see, I use something called independent thought. You should try it some time.

And, like you, I believe smart people and patriotic people should not be mutually exclusive categories. It’s just that, these days, you can’t seem to be both (at least not on TV). I am basing this on observations. You see, one of the most crucial things about humanity in this day and age is a concept Freud called Reality Function, which stresses independent observation and the importance of rising above societal-based inherited patterns. One does this by eliminating all of those pesky preconceptions that muddle independent thought.

The one thing we must teach our children is the value of independent thought (which is on the endangered list, by the way). Yes, the shadow sign of green is often psychotic and troubling, but there is no better measuring stick for this failure of Freud’s Reality Function than those 42 percent of our country ready to forget what brought this country to its knees a few short months ago and vote for the only person who clearly represents Bush’s third term, Sarah “what does this red button do?” Palin.

I do agree with the Crank that Bill Maher is wrong. America isn’t stupid, just hopelessly misguided. OK, it isn’t as simple as that. The Flynn Effect, the theory that discovered that we, as a species, get 3 IQ points smarter each generation, has finally screeched to a halt. Does that mean we’re all stupid as Maher asserts? I wouldn’t put it as bluntly as him, because I’m trying to sarcastically salve society, not overtly fuck with it. I am still rooting for this bunch, thus the tragic optimist plug at the top of this website. The fact remains, America’s IQ may be dropping for the first time this century. Is that related to the Fox News phenomenon?

Things that make you go, hmmmmm.

Crank, you do an awesome job dismantling ‘green,’ and I encourage you to continue the good fight. And I couldn’t agree more with your last paragraph, but please, for crying out loud, turn that same critical eye toward the heaping pile of shit in your corner of the room. The other night while listening to Fox talk about ‘The Obama culture of corruption,’ I couldn’t help but think, “there’s alcohol of some sort in my Listerine, isn’t there?”

Sure the corruption they were talking about is probably true (hint: Obama is a politician), but these days there are at least five Republican scandals for every one Democratic scandal. That is math we can believe in. But, as I have come to understand, this doesn’t make any sense to the neococoon and invariably falls on deaf ears. You see, they are a binary bunch: good/bad, liberatard/not liberatard, right/wrong, American/anti-American, terrorist/not terrorist.

I know, I know, does not compute, ignore, moveon.org. Warning, Will Robinson, Danger, Danger!

Geez, wasn’t changing the patriotard’s perspective one of Hercules’ labors? I think it was right before he diverted that river and right after he wrestled that giant squid.

An Open Letter To Whomever The Fuck Is Going To Actually Be “IN CHARGE” Of The “NEW” General Motors

(And, uh, hoping its not Obamarama, ‘cause, uh, then this whole letter is a total fucking waste of my time and, of course, the readers’)
The Crank

Dear Whomever The Fuck (DWTF),

Greetings and salutations. Like I did for your buddy Sergio, let me congratulate you on assuming only the best parts of an iconic American company for free, at the taxpayer’s expense, of course, while doing the crabwalk around all the “bad” stuff. You know, like the bondholders, and companies you forced out of business by not paying for shit you bought. Great country America, isn’t it?

Let’s go over, car line by car line, just what you had, what you now have, and what you will need for the future.

Pontiac: don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. Ten years of ugly small underpowered cars, and just when you get the go-ahead for a new GTO, you go to Aus-fucking-tralia!  No, let’s not build the penultimate GTO from our decades of experience in musclecardome, let’s just phone a totally forgetful one in from down under. You idiots deserve to be at home now, waitin’ fer yer bailout like the rest of us.

Saturn: with Penske as new owners, is a wait & see. That is, wait & see how long it takes old Rodger to bring them Chinese cluster-fucks to our shores.

Hummer: the devil drives a Hummer. It IS what is all wrong with America. Driving a Hummer says “I have taken advantage of, and probably crushed the hopes of many unsuspecting common folk so I can impress all of my shallow friends.”

Saab: Saab? Really, who cares!  Purchasing Saab must have been one of those, “I wanted to buy a car company, but then I got high,” kind of moments. Nope, losing those last two was a good move from any standpoint.

Chevrolet: Impala is Ted Nugent living in Steven Colbert’s body. It’s near invisible to most people, yet it’s one of the best autos to come out of the Big Bowtie in decades as far as people moving, dependability, and power vs. economy. But you forgot one thing: it needs to look like something we just might want to purchase. Malibu: please don’t fuck with it. Really. Please. Oh, and lose Cobalt. Let’s hope we all don’t go out and buy a Volt (see past diatribe on being green). Cruz looks good. Silverado is a truck. I don’t mind a few luxuries, but let’s not forget it is not for getting soccer mom’s asses to the local mall, it’s for getting large amounts of “stuff” from point A to point B. If soccer moms want to ride tall, I have a seven-foot friend who would love to accommodate. The new crossover SUV Equinox is great as is. No one really needs a full-sized SUV.  Sure they may WANT one, but they sure as hell don’t NEED one, so lose them. They are only for Hummer-ites in training. The Vette is an icon, don’t touch this (dum dum da dum, da um, da dum ). Jeremy Clarkson from Top Gear said the Z06 was just like a Ferrari, but the air conditioning worked, it rode better, and was 100k cheaper! The new Camaro looks great, but let’s see how it’s made.

GMC: uh, you already make trucks in Chevy. (Come over here and turn around so I can hit you in the back of the head.) Re-badging is what got you into the steaming compost heap you now find yourself. Let’s not go there again now, eh dorks. Lose GMC. We dun nid no stinkin rebadges. (I know, I’m sorry.  It’s Mikko’s influence.)

Buick: The problem with Buick, for a decade it’s been synonymous with old people. Here in Arizona, every fall we have what we call the, “Annual March of the Driverless Buicks.” It’s when all the short old people drive back in force to Sun City for the winter. You can almost set your watch to it. It’s kind of like the birds of Capistrano on ludes.  There are more ’97 to ’04 LeSabres, Centuries, and Park Avenues per capita than any other car on the planet in the Sun City area.  Let’s figure out why:

  1. Dependable: The 3.8 V6 is almost bullet proof. It will run on pee, or beer. I know this for fact. Miller is beer and pee, which might sound tempting, but don’t try it.
  2. Economy: My wife’s Park Ave has 164k on it and regularly gets 25 – 27 MPG.
  3. Room: All that out of a car a block long that seats six REAL people, seven if they have blue hair, and you can still fit five bodies in the trunk. That’s all of the members of Chicago and Lynard Skynard, dead or alive.
  4. Ease of service: Almost anyone on the planet with a fucking wrench can service a 3.8. (except Mikko, but that’s another story).
  5. Ride:like a magic carpet. Total isolation. Like playing a giant video game from the comfort of your Barkalounger.

Look, we old people need cars too, and my fat beige ass don’t want no mo “excitement” or “feel of the road.” I’m willing to slip on that car condom at this point. Tight handling, who cares? How many boxes of Krispy Kremes fit in the trunk? Can I get in it without being double-fucking jointed? If I hit something, will there be anything left for the Jaws of Life to extract? Will it get out of its own way on a regular basis? And can I do all of the above while passing the occasional gas station? These are things I give a shit about. The Buicks did this. Notice I said DID! In 2005 they figured, let’s make them smaller, heavier, less efficient, so the younger people will buy them. Duh, well, not so much. There is room for BOTH. Make the new 2010 Chinese design Lacrosse (known in China as Racrosse) for the young, and bring back the LeSabre for the rest of us. The new Lacrosse is great looking, the best vision for a Buick in a century (pardon the pun).  Let’s just see if I can get in and out of one.

Cadillac: I had a ’94 Sedan DeVille. 300 horse V8 front wheel drive. The best kept secret in Detroit. Fast as hell, blew away nearly everything from the stoplight. With all that weight on the drive wheels, I used to pass 4WD trucks stuck in the snow. It was what Mikko called the “Meadowlands Edition,” complete with the six body trunk (which could fit all of the Back Street Boys and still had enough room for most of Barney Frank). I put nearly 200k on it in 10 years at a total cost of gas, oil, tires, brakes, and about $800.00.  I had Vanity Plates that read “CRUZSHIP.” I miss that car. My very own “fat assed Caddy” as the NYPD called them, but that’s also another story. Anyway, today it’s all about the CTS; really nice car for the younger crowd. It has single handedly saved Caddy’s ass. The CTS-V was called the best American car ever by James May on Top Gear. It annihilates all its competition and can still conveniently dispose of the bodies. The new wagon version will be a killer, as will the new crossover SUV coming that’s based on it.

Escalade is yesterday’s bling. It’s dead, Jim. Lose it. It’s literally the 5000 lb gorilla in the room. Today, the Escalade says, “I gots lotsa muny from bein Gangsta and I gots a 5th grade edumakashun, and a chrome handgun,” or it says, “I sold subprime ARM’s to uneducated consumers.” What you DO need to do is create a new full-sized flagship car.New from the ground up, rear wheel drive, V8, full luxo boat, with the obligatory  $ 90k price tag. Please call it FLEETWOOD.  Make Mercedes and BMW look like so much useless Kraut technology. Real luxury can be FELT, as well as seen (like boobies). More toys do NOT necessarily equal true luxury (tassels come to mind).

One final note, Mr. WTF, please take note of the main problem facing Ford. Their problem? Well, unbeknownst to the Green police in the Government, the F150 TRUCK still outsells everything they got, as well as some Toyotas. With C.A.F.E going to 30+ MPG, it’s a problem brought on by our own Government, cause they tink dat we da peeps caint be trusted wif impowtant desishuns. We dead dinosaur lovers are not all dead yet. We just need representation, one with a very loud voice, and maybe, just maybe, a tight ass, and some perky boobies. I do believe just such a person has recently made herself available.

Goomis E. Kyaam

A Letter to Sergio Marchionne: Thoughts of Chrysler’s Future from an American Guido Car Guy (AG/CG)

The Crank

Dear Goomba:

I will start out with a hayadooin & congrats on getting an iconic American car company, complete with freshly minted bailout money, for six yenpesos and a pizza coupon. The last “wap” that “inherited” Chrysler was Lido Iacocca. He did more for Chrysler than any other man before or since. The One Billion dollar bailout he got was probably bigger in terms of what the dollar was worth at the time, but who’s counting?  Really, at this point who is counting? Iacocca paid it back early, driving a fleet of 5th Avenues (dissolving as they went) up to the White House to hand deliver the check. I remember it well. Nothing like seeing a line of newly made American autos, followed closely by a street sweeper sucking the dust and particles created by the near immediate breakdown of that great seventies sheet metal, covered with that wondrous new lead free paint. Mom had one. It would have lasted longer had it been painted with marinara sauce.

I, for one, am very happy to see the Italians coming to the USA. I have had more than enough German overdesigning to last a lifetime. You want proof someone can redesign something so many times it can not possibly work? “I” drive and “Bluetooth capable” ring a bell? Friggin disasters, both. I have also had enough Japanese Quaaludes on wheels. Jeremy Clarkson of the BBC said that whenever he can’t get to sleep, he just looks at a picture of the Camry and he’s straight off. American auto design needs emotion, Italian emotion, and needs it fast! I am getting a stiffy just thinking of a Viper with a body by Pininfarina.  I think the word Viagra is actually in that combo somewhere.

But I digress. Serge, can I call you Serge? Anyway, Serge, listen up. There are only a few things that are worth saving in the lineup you just, well, for lack of a better word, won. Jeep is one. A Wrangler diesel could be the new “country with no navigable fucking roads” car, followed by an American/Italian version of the Range/Land Rover made from the Grand Cherokee where, unlike the British vehicles, the electronics would actually work. Oh, and 500 horsepower plus 1000 lbs of torque equals 10,000 maniacs. The person purchasing such a vehicle would probably want it to speed up or slow down the Earth’s rotation at will (at the very least).

Second order of business would be the 300/Charger/Challenger.  Only what I would like to see is a 300 based Alfa Romeo luxury sport sedan. All the “Cocks” that currently just switched from Beemers to Audis would cream at the crotch. It would have “greasy day trader/skeevy investment banker” written all over it!

But a better interior on the Challenger, please! It’s as interesting as the Morning Crop Report on the RFD channel. For 40k, its interior has GOT to look like something more interesting than Dave Atsals in a speedo.  Oh, and it should FEEL better too. For 40K it should cure not cause hemorrhoids. Ditch the current Charger for a more modern (real Italian) design. Oh, and please put the 2.7 engine to sleep. I can run faster than a 300 with a 2.7.

I can’t wait for the Fiat 500; it’s a real “Mini” killer. Turbo charge the little bastard and call it the GLH, Iacocca’s initials “for goes like hell.” That’s the old Dodge Omni Rabbit killer. But, maybe I’m just splitting hares.

Next up, the Ram. Listen, if you greaseballs want to understand just what makes up an American car guy, spend a week in a new Ram. An interior like a futuristic jet fighter, only one made for short fat pilots. Thirsty-lazy-short-fat pilots. With short little arms. A ride smoother than any pickup ever built. And an exterior design that when viewed in your rear-view mirror says “Get The Fuck Out of My Way”. With beer coolers built in to the truck bed—how fucking cool is that? Now, follow this, its very important: Make a short bed short cab 2wd version with the 6.1 hemi in go-mango orange, Black or Cool Vanilla, with no fucking stripes, no fucking scoops, no fucking ground effects. Just a sweet toned set of pipes. And the beer coolers! Black “vinyl” interior, no carpets, kick ass stereo, 6 spd manual, fat tires with 20” chromes. All for less than 30k. Done. In homage to the Road Runner, call it, ready for this, the RamRunner. I know, and you’re very welcome.  Maybe the horn can go, Mee, Meep, but in more of James Earl Jones kind of way. 

In closing, let me just say throughout American history Chrysler Corp. has always been a leader in design and technology. That was until the Nazis stole it.  They raped the company blind, and left it for dead. I am sincerely hoping that you and your company can revive some of the old that was great, and put to sleep some of the new that ain’t so great. I am rooting for you. If you’re ever in Phoenix, stop by and we’ll have a cannoli and some beer. It’s the Italian/American way!

Yours Unruly

Goomis E. Kyamm

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

Goomis