Amid massive protests, the pro-Syrian cabinet in Lebanon has resigned. Who honestly thinks this had nothing to do with the elections in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia?

My Back, My Back
Meine Vater took the day off work today because his back hurts. Moving causes him obvious pain. In the fall of 2003, for the first and thus far only time in my life, I threw my back out. Sitting still was fine, but any movement caused searing pain, which was impossible to ignore. After a day and a half, it disappeared as suddenly as it had come. At the time, knowing my dad had thrown his back out several times, I asked his advice. Would heat alleviate the pain? Was Tylenol worth taking, or too weak to be of any use? His only answer, "Lose some weight." So, here's hoping the pain from his back keeps him up all night. Suffer, you miserable sack of shit.

Of course, what's really upsetting is that a part of me feels actual, honest-to-Bog sympathy for him. I've sent the dark bastard down to the legal department to see if we can declare that traitorous portion of my mind persona non grata or enact some other legal sanction. Jerk.

May the Force Be With You
Friday night, Guy Zach Nie!, Kiel, and I saw Mustard Plug at The Flint Local 432. I was wearing my "Weird Al" "The Saga Begins" T-shirt. On the front is a picture of Weird Al, modeled after the Episode I teaser poster (the one with Ani and Vader's shadow); on the back is a list of tour dates such as "Tatooine - Mos Eisley Cantina", "Alderaan - (CANCELLED)", and "Naboo - Theed Palace." Two fifteen year old girls came up to me and one said, "I like your shirt." So of course, I had to break out the album and listen to "The Saga Begins." Holy wow, only three weeks until Clone Wars! Less than three months until Revenge of the Sith!

"Oh my, my, this here Anakin guy,
Maybe Vader someday later,
Now he's just a small fry,
And he left his home
And kissed his mommy goodbye
Saying, 'Soon I'm gonna be a Jedi,
Soon I'm gonna be a Jedi.'"
--"Weird Al" Yankovic, "The Saga Begins" from Running With Scissors

The Queue
Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe, and Everything
Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish ***in progress***
Douglas Adams, "Young Zaphod Plays It Safe"
Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless
Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Bram Stoker, Dracula
Leslie Charteris, something from the library

Opinion Poll
The results are in! Who am I to disagree with Krista and The Watergirl? The boy to whom Margaret lost her virginity is Jeremy Metz. I think I was already leaning that way. Originally, his name was Jason Beck, but the hero of the SPP is Jason Seaholm and I didn't want to repeat the first name, and Neutral Man's character in the Trifecta project is Neil Beckman, just a little too close to Beck. So, Jeremy it is, and thus the opening paragraph of In Search of the Perfect Lesbian:

"Margaret lost her virginity to a boy named Jeremy Metz. He wasn't her boyfriend. She would never date him. He was a goddamned frat boy looking for an easy lay and she was in the mood to get fucked."

And now another poll: Scipio Winter is a cold bastard, yet he is inexplicably hung up on his last girlfriend; he's still crazy about her six months after she unceremoniously dumped him for another fellow. She is now an American, but was born a Soviet citizen. Her family left Russia when she was ten. I'm having difficulty deciding between these three names. One is a red herring, but I am having real trouble choosing between the other two:

Nadia Kamenskaya
Anya Kamenskaya
Svetlana Kamenskaya

My genuine thanks to those who have opined on these questions.

Me: "I am going to find a Chaldean named Fred and induce him to travel to Ulan Bator, Mongolia and then you, my dear, will rue this day."
Skeeter: "That's not a sentence you read every day."

Whenever I hear "The Wild Sea" by The Aquabats!, I am nearly overcome by a desire to join the Merchant Marine.

"Sailing on and on and on and on,
Into the ocean, into the Sun,
I'm going a'viking, my dad and me,
On the wild sea!

(repeat)

The wild sea is calling me,
The wild sea is calling me,
The wild sea is calling me,
The wild sea is calling me!"

I should see The Life Aquatic again....

The Rebel Black Dot Society
I have no idea how to ballpark anything. How many inches of snow did we get last night? No idea. How much does that girl weigh? Um, seven? I find that wild guesses are less inaccurate if you don't provide units. I'm just saying, I can't tell you how much these people weigh, which would help you form a mental picture. I'm sorry, I just can't.

Margaret - 5'2", green eyes, red hair. Margaret is a tiny creature. She sez of herself that she has the body of a ten year-old boy and can't wait until her breasts grow in. She's more classically pretty than she is cute, but hides it behind her glasses and unassuming wardrobe: jeans, band T-shirts, and Chuck Taylors.

Pete - 5'11 1/2" (bitterly resents not being 6'), brown eyes, brown hair. Pete's overweight, but not as fat as I am. He's stronger and more athletic than the potbelly would lead one to believe, and believes his sideburns are his best feature. He owns six pairs of identical blue jeans.

Mary Cannibal - 5'9", blue eyes, light brown hair. Mary is the kind of beautiful that makes men stupid, tall, thin, and impossibly well proportioned. Margaret wanted to resent her when they first met. She never wears pants, only skirts, but doesn't dress provocatively.

Scipio - 6'1", blue eyes, blonde hair. Scipio is, as the kids say, cut, solid muscle from head to foot, but his neutral facial expression has a cruel cast to it that puts many people off. He always wears a collared shirt, and carries himself with an unnatural rigidity.

Parker - 5'10", blue eyes, black hair. Parker is almost as beautiful as his sister. He's not ripped like Scipio, but is very well toned. He's slight of frame for his height and his eyes are such a brilliant blue that Pete swears they must be LEDs. All that, and he's a rock star. Life is unfair.

Stacey - 5'4", brown eyes, black hair. Stacey is thinner than Margaret, even though she has two extra inches of height. She wears gigantic hooded sweatshirts, but is obsessed with her figure. She spends hours each day in the pool and at the gym and eats like a bird. She was a fat kid, and was teased mercilessly by her picture perfect mother, probably the root of the whole mess. Margaret's very concerned.

Screws Fall In
Germany
East Germany (Democratic German Republic)
West Germany (Federal Republic of Germany)

Screws Fall Out
Czechoslovakia
Slovakia
Czech Republic

Yugoslavia
Slovenia
Croatia
Bosnia and Herzegovina
--Muslim-Croat Alliance
--Republika Srpska
Macedonia
Serbia and Montenegro

Soviet Union
Lithuania
Latvia
Estonia
Belarus
The Ukraine
Moldova
Georgia
Armenia
Azerbaijan
Kazakhstan
Uzbekistan
Turkmenistan
Tajikistan
Kyrgyzstan
Russia

I stopped by 7-Eleven this afternoon and the clerk said to me, "I'm not even supposed to be here today." Then we discussed the practical limitations of playing hockey on the roof. Good times with a complete stranger.

The Rebel Black Dot Society
Being of limited talent and imagination, all of my important characters are distilled/reworked versions of myself. Margaret is as I imagine I'd be, or hope I'd be, were I a girl. (There's just no way to say that without it sounding weird.) Scipio is the pure asshole I wish I had the courage to be. Parker is me crossed with a healthy dose of Steeziness. Mary is as devout as I long to be. Pete is the least changed version of myself, though he is kinder than I as my more jerkish tendencies have been transfered to Scipio. However, there is one enormous (and it is hard to overstate how vital this is) difference between Pete and me: he has no Mountain of Love. My brother is the single most important thing in the world to me; Bog, country, Dr Pepper, these are all secondary concerns. Pete has an older sister, quite similar to my own sister, but she is six years Pete's elder (The L.A.W. is three and a half mine). Still, my brother and I are closer than any other siblings I have ever encountered, or any of whom I've ever heard, and I didn't want to simply abandon such a potentially rich element. So, I have embodied our bond in the brother-sister duo of Parker and Mary Peppard. I think I feel more comfortable dealing with such a bond between two characters who are much less me. I'm babbling, aren't I?

Margaret Eastman, 19, has four siblings, a sister and three brothers. Francis Xavier, 28, is her half-brother from their mother's first marriage. She has an older sister, Paige, 21, and twin younger brothers, Sean and Will, 16.

Pete Foster, 20, has an older sister, April, 26.

Mary Peppard, 19, has an older brother, Parker, 22.

Scipio Winter, 20, has five siblings, four sisters and a brother. Livia, 23; Cato, 22; Julia, 19; Portia, 16; and Agrippina, 15.

Parker Peppard, 22, has a younger sister, Mary, 19.

Stacey Hiraki, 18, is an only child.

Kari Putterman, 19, I don't know yet.

Brandy McCown, 21, has siblings (she seems like the type), but I have yet to devise them.

Mark Greenwald, 22, is probably an only child. Jerk.

Opinion Poll
Which name is better for the frat boy to whom Margaret loses her virginity: Jeremy Metz or Geoff Metz? He's a frathole, but other than that he's not a bad guy. The sex was exactly what Margaret wanted at the time it happened, but as the story progresses Metz begins to feel uncomfortable, not that he did anything wrong, but more like he feels he was inadvertently part of something unfortunate.

And I unapologetically love the terms sorostitute and frathole. Long live the F.R.A.T. Party!

"I saw a yard gnome once, but it didn't scare me."

Wow, I really am a monster. I just read that Hunter S. Thompson killed himself, and I laughed. My first reaction was to chuckle. Then, I was shocked, but not scandalized, that I laughed. I still haven't gotten around to feeling bad for him and his family. Even given my rather odd views on suicide, I'm surprised that I laughed. What can I say? It strikes me as funny.

The Queue
I've finished The Restaurant at the End of the Universe and have moved on to Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Hello, Kitty
I took Sam to the veterinarian a week ago yesterday. The doc seemed to think he's in not terrible shape for a cat of his advanced years. Nice to know, but unfortunately the visit seemed to have a deleterious effect on his appetite. It might just be a coincidence, but he's eaten very little since we got back. He's already tiny and can't afford to lose any more weight, yet it seems as if he's wasting away before my very eyes.

This moment of joy is brought to you by Dr. Howard Dean, chairman of the Democratic National Committee... BWA HA HA! BWA HA HA HA HA! A HA HA HA HA HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HA HAHAHA HA!

"And it may be the whiskey talking,
But the whiskey says I miss you every day."
--Fountains of Wayne, "No Better Place" from Welcome Interstate Managers

I find my mind dwelling on the fearsome might of the 23rd century Klingon military machine. The iconic silhouette of a Klingon battlecruiser is uniquely intimidating. Bog, I love Star Trek.

Don't Panic
There is a trailer for The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy at Amazon.com. I'm trying not to panic and I'm not predicting doom and gloom, but... Zaphod Beeblebrox only has one head. Seriously, what in the high holy hell is that?

The Queue
Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe ***in progress***
Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe, and Everything
Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
Douglas Adams, "Young Zaphod Plays It Safe"
Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless
Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Bram Stoker, Dracula
Leslie Charteris, something from the library

The weather forecast called for between two and four inches of snow. The ground is still suspiciously green and bare for being covered in two to four inches of snow. This February is a debacle. Damn the weatherman.

"Damn the man. Save the Empire."

The Rebel Black Dot Society - The House of Winter
All of the Winters have Roman names. The tradition was started by Scipio Winter's great-grandfather James Winter, who named his two sons after Julius Caesar and Pompey. I don't have the entire family tree worked out, but here's what I have. Titles in italics indicate relation to Scipio; underlined names are those used as "first names."

James Winter, great-grandfather - deceased

{his sons}
Gaius Julius Caesar Winter, grandfather
Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus "Pompey" Winter, great-uncle

{Caesar's sons}
Marcus Cocceius Nerva Winter, uncle
Marcus Ulpius Nerva Trajanus "Trajan" Winter, uncle
Publius Aelius Trajanus Hadrianus "Hadrian" Winter, uncle - deceased
Titus Aurelius Fulvius Boionius Arrius Antoninus Pius Winter, father
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus Winter, uncle

{Antoninus Pius's children}
Livia Antonina Winter, M.D., sister
Marcus Portius Cato Winter, brother
Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus Winter, himself
Julia Antonina Winter, sister
Portia Antonina Winter, sister
Agrippina Antonina Winter, sister

{Marcus Aurelius's children}
Aurelia Augusta Winter, cousin
Lucius Septimius Severus Winter, cousin

One of the reasons Scipio's mother (as yet unnamed) divorced his father, Antoninus Pius, was she felt smothered by the extended Winter family, all of whom live near each other. Antoninus Pius is very close to his father, uncle, three surviving brothers, and cousins (I'm sure Pompey had kids, I just haven't invented them yet), and dotes on his six children, custody of whom he retained after the divorce.

Family, specifically sibling relationships, plays an important part in nearly all my work.

The Democrats in the Senate held up the confirmations of Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, and Secretary of Homeland Security Michael Chertoff. Tell me, if you are President Bush, what exactly is the incentive to compromise with these people? Senate confirmation of cabinet secretaries is supposed to be a civil affair, in essense a rubber stamp, and yet the Dems, still sulking about Election Day, decided to brawl. Essentially, their strategy is to be jerks at every turn. Were I advising Dr. Frist, my counsel would consist of just two words: scorched earth.

Clearly, the Syrians aren't responsible for the massive bombing in Beirut. Also, I am the reincarnation of the Babylonian god Marduk and an ardent supporter of both Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D, NY) and Sen. Edward Moore Kennedy (D, MA).

Opinion Poll
I recognize now that perhaps I was not as clear as might have been desirable. Ryan Hershey and the to-be-named middle aged guy are not the same person.

{a.} Ryan Hershey (Chaffee does not appear to have struck a positive chord with anyone) is a 23 year-old graduate of the University of Michigan. He is a native of Holland, Michigan and now resides in Grand Blanc, Michigan. He moved there after graduation and began working as a mid-level manager in some or other faceless corporation, a position he does not at all enjoy. He got good grades throughout school, earned a college degree, got a well-paying job, and thoroughly detests his life. Well, detests might be a little strong. But he is sad all the time and profoundly lonely. Not my most creative character, I know, but he is intended for a joint project I have undertaken with Neutral Man and Captain Malice, a study in malaise and alienation. (However, a "meeting" held last weekend to discuss the project resulted in no discussion of the project; so, I may revamp poor Ryan and relocate him to the universe of In Search of the Perfect Lesbian.)

{b.} Other Guy is in his mid-thirties, married with no kids. He need not be white, he could be anything. He lives in suburban Detroit; so, maybe he's Chaldean. He works an inoffensive job and lives in an inoffensive home. I would call his taste in music offensive, but most people would call it normal. He was an athlete in high school, but not a jock. His neighbors like him, his coworkers like him. He loves his wife and she loves him.

He is a good, decent man who made one terrible mistake. He wasn't driving drunk. He wasn't speeding. He wasn't asleep at the wheel. He just inexplicably drove through a red light and crashed into the the side of Scipio Winter's mother and stepfather's SUV, killing her but leaving both men virtually unscathed. He was haunted by the accident and nearly destroyed by guilt. The judge saw his regret and sentenced him to no jail time for what had been truly an accident. He apologized to the stepfather and the Winter family (Mr. A.P. Winter and his six children) and tried to move on with his life.

He was a good, decent man who made one terrible mistake. One bright January morning, Livia, Cato, and Scipio Winter kidnapped him from outside his own home and murdered him. His body was never found; his greaving wife had to bury an empty coffin. The police suspected the three eldest Winter children, but had no evidence of a murder, much less evidence tying them to said murder.

I need a good name for this man; I like some of the suggestions given in response to the previous post.

Oh yeah, happy Valentine's Day, everybody.

I am a mean bastard, that cannot be changed, but I have made progress in being able to hold my tongue. Though sometimes I question if this has been for good or for ill.

Opinion Poll!
I really do value your comments, dear readers, and would appreciate you weighing in on the following.

Which name should I use: Ryan Hershey or Ryan Chaffee?

I need a good name for a white male, American, mid-thirties, married with no children. Drives a mid-sized SUV, works as a mid-level manager/professional. He's popular, personable, and psychologically healthy.

Thanks, kids.

There are worse fates than staying in on Friday nights...
8:00pm Star Trek: Enterprise - no. 1
9:00pm Stargate Atlantis - no. 3
10:00pm Battlestar Galactica - no. 2
11:00pm Stargate SG-1 - no. 4

One of the things I love about myself is my propensity to get wrapped up in something, to fixate on one thing or another. I don't have a short attention span, but I like to let my mind jump from one subject to another, in part to see the odd connections it makes and how it segues between utterly unrelated fields. And so, in the midst of that aimless casting about, it is nice to obsess, to be absorbed by an idea.

Right now, the only thing I want to think about is Wonderfalls.

Just remember, kids, it's important not to confuse rain, reign, and rein.

"She hates rain, so I hope it rains at her wedding."

"By the end of the short reign of Alexander the Great, his empire was so expansive that it could be fairly remarked, 'He reigns over the wide world.'"

"Rein in your temper or you'll never be handed the reins of this company."

The Rebel Black Dot Society - King of Prussia
Prompted by a question from Kiel, I have utilized ye olde internet to search for a real world band called "King of Prussia." To my disappointment, I successfully found one. So, should I change the name of Parker Peppard's band? Things to consider:

(a) I found only one reference to King Of Prussia, and it was from early 2002, now nearly three years ago. You snooze, you lose, and for all I know King Of Prussia is now defunct.

(b) The single mention gave me the impression that it's not a band, but one guy. I hate bands that are just one permanent guy and a bunch of mercenaries as backup, or at least I do when they use a real band name. Jason Mraz is fine (the name, not the music), but I hate both Nine Inch Nails and Bright Eyes (name and music). If you're just one guy, not a real, every-member-is-important band, use your fucking name, not a real band name.

(c) Parker Peppard is a fictional character, not a real person, and he is the fictional frontman for a fictional band made up of fictional people.

And so, after due consideration, Parker's band is still going to be called King of Prussia. It's a great name and I had never, ever heard of the real world King Of Prussia (the band, obviously I knew of the town) when I made it up. If In Search of the Perfect Lesbian is ever published and push comes to shove, and I can't use/get permission to use "King of Prussia," I'll simply rechristen the band "King of Prussia, PA." In the early days of The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, they were simply The Bosstones; but, there was another Boston-area band alredy called The Bosstones, so they added the wickedly awesome "Mighty Mighty." Thus, to my thinking, King of Prussia, PA is legally distinctive from King Of Prussia.

And after push comes to shove, if worse comes to worst, I can always go back to the original name, which I still like (just but not as much), Polska. Ooo, or Hohenzollern. It rolls of the tongue... Hohenzollern....

Man Up
Donovan McNabb has disavowed the claims of his teammates that he was sick in the last minutes of Super Bowl XXXIX. Damn it, and I was so looking forward to hating him. Curse you, McNabb! Pay attention, kids, because that's how you man up: you not only refuse to make excuses, but you slap down the excuses of others. I'll never like Donovan McNabb and I'll never root for him (I can never forgive that Syracuse game), but I respect the hell out of him.

Ash Wednesday
This is my favorite day of the year to be Catholic. There are better days to be Christian (Easter, when God saved us all; Christmas, because who doesn't love presents?), but there's no better day to be Catholic. Except maybe the day a new pope is elected, but I've never experienced that; John Paul II's the only Bishop of Rome I've ever known. It's worth getting up unbogly early in the morning to walk aroudn with the ashes on your forehead all day. This morning's sermon was about praying and giving charitably in quiet, not bragging about your piety, but the ashes fly right in the face of that. Or maybe they don't; maybe they are meant to serve as a reminder to everyone else that today is the beginning of a holy season, even if the Protestants have no sense of decorum.

In any event, one of the things I truly love about being Catholic is the institutional eccentricity. We burn palm leaves and then smear the ashes on our foreheads. For the next month and a half, I can't have meat on Fridays. Why Fridays? And somehow fish doesn't qualify as meat. What about narwhal? Could I eat narwhal on a Friday during Lent? It lives in the sea like a fish (eat it), but it's a mammal like a cow (don't eat it). And why is purple the color of Lent? So bizarre. I love being Catholic.

Dr. Howard Dean is going to be the chairman of the Democratic National Committee. That is such wonderful news.

The League of Nations
Between Paul Volcker's interim report on the oil-for-food and this gem, does the United Nations have any credibility left? Id be curious to hear a defense of Kofi Annan's performance as Secretary-General. I mean that. I can't think of a single positive thing to say about him; so, don't have any idea how someone might defend him. Please, astound me.

Spite
From time to time, certainly not every week, I tape the UPN show Veronica Mars. (It airs at 9 o'clock on Tuesday, the same time as Scrubs; so, clearly I can't watch the show when it's broadcast.) Kristen Bell is fierce and lovely, and it's an entertaining little show. However, since those rat finks at UPN announced the cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise last week, I have given serious consideration to boycotting the entire network. Strike that, I'm not considering, I've made the decision to boycott. Some might argue that I am cutting my nose to spite my face; after all, I'm involuntarily losing a show I love, so what could be gained by depriving myself of another show I enjoy? But anyone who would make that argument knows nothing about spite. What is to be gained? Peace of mind, my friends, peace of mind. Effective immediately, I won't watch anything on UPN that isn't Star Trek: Enterprise. Once the curtain falls on that wonderful and underappreciated show, I won't watch anything on UPN until Star Trek returns (though I personally hope that when [if] Star Trek returns, it won't have anyting to do with UPN). Veronica Mars is UPN's first non-Star Trek show I ever watched, and now those geniuses have convinced me to give it up. Rot in hell, you bastards.

Man Up
There is a story circulating that Donovan McNabb had the dry-heaves at the end of the Super Bowl, thus preventing Philadelphia from running the no-huddle offense. Sweet fancy Moses, can't you pussies even lose like men? "Ooo ooo, it wasn't our fault, our quarterback was sick!" That's just sickening. I've never liked the Eagles, they are braggarts and egotists, but this is outragous even by the low standards to which I hold them. You lost. Suck it up. The Philadelphia Eagles are the lowest bunch of bottomfeeders in the NFL, even worse than Jerry Jones and the hated Cowboys. You lost, now own up to it, you pussies.

The Rebel Black Dot Society
Margaret Eastman loved Mark Greenwald, but he broke her heart. On the rebound she thinks she loves Kari Putterman, and won't let the fact that neither of them is a lesbian deter her.

Pete Foster loves Noelle Heinkel, or at least he used to. By this point it might just be habit. It's occurred to him that he might love Margaret, if he wasn't busy pining for Noelle.

Mary Peppard loves the Almighty and the Church, but most of all she loves the sacrament of communion. She takes communion every day. Sometimes she worries about that.

Scipio Winter loves Nadia Kamenskaya, even though she broke his heart. So now he fucks Supergirl, but love has nothing to do with it.

Parker Peppard loves Brandy McCown and his sister Mary. He loves his music and his band, King of Prussia. But first and foremost, he loves Mary.

Brandy knows better than to compete with Mary; so, she accepts those parts of Parker he keeps apart from Mary. Some people don't understand why she accepts half of Parker, but Brandy feels no need to explain herself.

Stacey Hiraki doesn't love her as yet unnamed boyfriend, but they have fun and that's what matters.

Noelle loves Neal Cohen to the exclusion of all else. No one can fathom why. Bridges haved been burned, or at least singed, and there has been much unpleasantness.

Other Stories
Ryan Hershey isn't sure he loves anything anymore. Or maybe that's just pretense. In any event, he feels entitled to a little pretention. Ryan has a bit of a chip on his shoulder.

I don't know Jill Barnes yet. Fitting since Ryan thinks he loves her, though he knows nothing about her other than her name and that he likes her haircut.

Return of the Jedi
Revenge of the Sith

Recently, I watched the movie Radioland Murders, a Lucasfilm production from 1994 (George Lucas, story and executive producer). First of all, it's a hell of a film, absolutely fantastic. It is a farce/whodunit set in the golden age of radio. Mary Stuart Masterson and Brian Benben are the leads in a brilliant ensemble cast. I highly recommend it to anyone with a sense of humor. Also of interest are some of the crew, specifically producer Rick McCallum, director of photography David Tattersall, and production designer Gavin Bocquet. McCallum, Tattersall, and Bocquet are, respectively, the producer, director of photography, and production designer for Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace, Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones, and the forthcoming Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith. Just as with Young Indiana Jones, an added dimension of enjoyment in Radioland Murders is watching George Lucas get ready for the prequel trilogy. The films were literally years in the making. Wicked.

As Bill Kristol of The Weekly Standard said last week, and I'm paraphrasing, "How many Afrikaaners voted in South Africa's first open elections? And who cares?" The Sunni comprise 20% of the Iraqi population, they were Saddam Hussein's power base, and under his rule Iraq's Shiites and Kurds were slaughtered by the hundreds of thousands. So why is it that both ABC News and NPR seem more concerned with the self-marginalization of the Sunnis than the ascension of the Shiite Arabs and Kurds? It is as if we were concerned how the National Socialists felt about suddenly being replaced as kings of the mountain in post-World War II Germany. The Sunnis were the bad guys! No dictator can remain in power without the tacit support of large numbers of my population; the Sunnis were Saddam's footsoldiers and henchmen. They comprise the majority of the homegrown Iraqi insurgents. If they chose not to vote in last Sunday's elections, they have only themselves to blame, for listening to religious leaders who urged a boycott of the elections to implicitly or explicitly supporting the terorists in their midst. Fortunately for them, they will find that the Shiites and Kurds, once in power, will be far more generous to them than they ever were.

Meine Vater is watching The Matrix Revolutions downstaris. Poor bastard.

Mom is watching The Paper Chase. If she wanted to know how terrible the first year of law school is, I could have just steered her to Skeeter's blog.

The Stars My Destination
I find that my sadness over the cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise is being mitigated by two phenomenon: the quality of the current episodes and the impending grandeur otherwise known as Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith. Last night's episode, "United," was fantastic. Humans, Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites united in common cause against the Romulan menace... my Bog, we are so close now to the Federation. The fools at Viacom and UPN have no idea what they are doing. They have taken a multimillion dollar marketing juggernaut and done everything in their power to sabotage and undermine it. All I ask it that their every ambition meet with ruin and their every dream die on the vine.

I have been known to describe Senator Evan Bayh (D, Indiana) as "a Democrat I could vote for." No more. Fuck Evan Bayh. He can eat shit. Bayh was one of the thirteen Democratic senators to vote against Secretary Rice's appointment to run the State Department. Why? Because he wants to be president and it's never too early to start moving to the Left to cozy up to Democratic primary voters ahead of the 2008 contest. Cynical motherfucker. Evan Bayh is a soulless piece of trash, and from this point forward his misfortune is my delight. Hit by a car? Hilarious. Wife cheats on him? Great. Killed in a wheat thresher accident? Fantastic.

Groundhog Day
Yesterday, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, a dire forecast of six more weeks of winter. According to the tradition, if he doesn't see his shadow, this augurs an early spring. Now, I can't speak to the weather in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, but here in the Great Lakes State is winter only lasts six more weeks after February 2, that would constitute an early spring. So, it's the same prediction whether the blasted groundhog sees his shadow or not. Of course, that pretty much makes the groundhog's prognostications foolproof. Well done, city fathers of Punxsutawney! You can't lose! Brillaint!

Would Punksutawney Phil be acceptable as an album title?

Just Say "No" to Fun, Part II
I have to somewhat amend my support for the Mountain of Love's decision to skip last night's Mu330 show. He chose to play innertube water polo as a Genesee County All-Star, and as a founder and former captain of the GCAS, I applaud his participation. There are, after all, only three regular season water polo games a year. But after the game, when presumably he would be too tired to join me in Detroit, he went to the Blind Pig to see the band Oh My God in concert. It would be one thing had he said he was going to skip Mu330 to see Oh My God; that would be a mistake, but he has a free will and the right to make that mistake. But he told me he wouldn't be coming to the show because of the water polo game, which clearly didn't prevent him from going to a different show.

Where No Fan Has Gone Before
I feel kind of guilty about this, but I'm not all that upset about the cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise. Make no mistake, I love the show. I don't just watch it out of habit or loyalty to Star Trek, I really love Enterprise. I've taken issue with the way established continuity was treated, going all the way back to the pilot, "Broken Bow," but it's a damned good show and I wish a pox on those bastards at UPN and Viacom for killing it. But, there has been talk of cancellation for over a year now, and talk of Star Trek needing a break for years. I suppose I had braced myself for this.

That said, let us not underestimate the tragedy of this moment. Yes, Star Trek has been in continuous production for eighteen years, but talk of a break being a good thing is madness! Eighteen years passed between the cancellation of the original series and the franchise's resurrection with Star Trek: The Next Generation. Remember those years in the wilderness! Remember what it was like to not have any new Trek! And with Rick Berman having successfully driven the movie franchise into the ground, I truly fear for the future of both Star Trek and science fiction television. Maybe I'm more upset about this that I thought I was. Maybe right now I'm just shocked, I'm numb.

At any rate, I will cherish the last ten episodes of Star Trek: Enterprise. You should, too. They might be the last Star Trek for a very long time indeed.

Just Say "No" to Fun
What the hell happened to us? I recall shows when the then-Bald Mountain, Never Girl, Neutral Man, The Guy, and The Plate would all go. Having six or seven people at a show was never the rule, but it wasn't terribly rare either. Tonight I drove into the heart of Detroit to see Mu330 by myself. I understand that people have moved away (Never Girl lives in Sacramento, The Plate in D.C.) and that's not what bothers me. The people who are still here just aren't the same. People have always had conflicting commitments, and I wholeheartedly support the Mountain's decision to forgo tonight's show in order to play for the Genesee County All-Stars. But some people just didn't feel like going to tonight's show. Sadly, that is more and more the pattern; one show becomes two, two become three, and pretty soon you just don't go to concerts anymore, because you have other things you're doing.

I think what I'm talking about is becoming an adult. Adults don't just take off in the middle of the week and go to a rock show (never mind the fact that I was home from Detroit, a solid hour's drive, by midnight). Adults would rather not leave their coat in the car on a bitterly cold winter night; kids going to a show know you have to leave the coat in the car, because there certainly won't be any place to put it once you're in the pit. Slowly, almost so slowly that no one noticed, my friends became anti-fun. The end of childhood is inevitable, but is it also inevitable that one turn against the concept of fun? Tonight's show was more fun than a barrel of monkeys (we did the original Detroit Powerskank), yet I feel as if I've witnessed a tragedy.

Also, Star Trek: Enterprise was cancelled today. Neutral Man sez everything that needs to be said. Boldly go....

Two years ago, the Space Shuttle Columbia exploded during atmospheric reentry. It's sad how few people seem to give a damn. Six Americans and one Israeli died, but they have never been honored as were the brave souls who died aboard the Challenger. Hyperlink. Godspeed.

Hello, Kitty
I'm getting worried about Sam. He seems to have lost almost all interests in sitting on laps. That can't be good. Please don't die, Sammy.

Colin Powell sez "You're a loser!"... But What Does the Lovely Dr. Rice Say?
I received the registration forms for the 2005 Foreign Service Written Examination in today's mail. Odd, that, since I haven't gotten around to requesting them yet. I can only assume it is standard precedure to send the materials to all failed applicants from the previous exam. Well, I hope I fare better on this year's exam. The exam is April 23 and the results won't be known until late July; so, you have plenty of time to shudder at the thought of me being an official representative of the United States of America.

B.A.P.F. Lives
Since I don't count October's Flogging Molly propaganda debacle as a show, before last night I hadn't been to a rock show in which I was not performing since, jumpin' Jehosephat, June! That's so sad. Fortunately, these things happen in bunches. So, in addition to last night's tsunami relief benefit show at The Local, on Wednesday I am going to see Mu330 in Detroit. After that, I intend to see Mustard Plug twice, at The Local near the end of February and at the Blind Pig in early April. All are invited to attend; it's not the case of "the more the merrier" as it used to be, now it's more that I hate having to go to shows by myself. Still, I'm willing to pay that price for the unrivaled joy of a good ska show. "Rok! Rok! Rok!"

The commentary on ABC and NPR about Sunday's election in Iraq has been very disheartening. I hate to say it, but it seems as if many in the media do not view liberty and democracy as inherent goods.

I have been to The Local for the tsunami relief concert. Take that, you bastards, iron-clad proof of my moral supremacy.

The Iraqi people have voted. Woot! Let the counting begin! Man, I can't wait to see what kind of a constitution the Transitional National Assembly comes up with. President Jimmy has said that Abu Musab al-Zarqawi is the Iraqi equivalent of our Founding Fathers; that's an odd statement even for Jimmy, since Zarqawi is Jordanian, not Iraqi. (President Jimmy is the personification of "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.") I can't wait to see who will be the real Iraqi James Madison.

Name Dropping
I was at The Palace on Wednesday for a Pistons game. Once again, the grotesqueness of man compelled me to feel sympathy for that musical abomination commonly known as Kid Rock. People all but shoved each other aside for the opportunity to touch him, get his autograph, wrap a meaty arm around him and have a picture taken with a cellular phone. If I live for a thousand thousand years, I shall never understand the impulse. But this day, fortune smiled on me; the celebrity in question was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the words "Kid Rock" written across the chest. Dude. Unless you are a spandex-clad superhero, you may not have your name written across your chest. Ye gods. I hope more slobbering, dull-eyed twats haunt his every waking moment. I hope he never again experiences a moment of public privacy. I feel about him the way I did before the madding crowd ever inspired my sympathy. So, my thanks to you, Kid Rock, for being every bit as vile as I had unfairly assumed you to be.

*** ATTENTION MOUNTAIN OF LOVE - Episode III SPOILER ALERT! ***
Episode I - The Phantom Menace
Darth Sidious (Senator Palpatine)
Darth Maul
Viceroy Nute Gunray

Episode II - Attack of the Clones
Darth Sidious (Chancellor Palpatine)
Darth Tyranus (Count Dooku)
Jango Fett
Separatist leaders (Trade Federation, I.G. Banking Clan, et al.)

Episode III - Revenge of the Sith
Darth Sidious (Chancellor Palpatine)
Darth Tryanus (Count Dooku)
General Grievous
Anakin Skywalker

Episode IV - A New Hope
Darth Vader (Anakin Skywalker)
Grand Moff Tarkin

Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
Darth Sidious (Emperor Palpatine)
Darth Vader (Anakin Skywalker)
Boba Fett

Episode VI - Return of the Jedi
Darth Sidious (Emperor Palpatine)
Darth Vader (Anakin Skywalker)
Jabba the Hutt
*** ATTENTION MOUNTAIN OF LOVE - Episode III SPOILER ALERT! ***

May 19, 2005, six years to the day after the release of The Phantom Menace. This is going to be the greatest thing to ever happen to me.

Tsunami
It's been a month and a day since the Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami. Over 200,000 people are dead. I know a lot of you reading this don't have much spare income, and I'm not asking anyone to donate their rent money, or even give up a few nights at the bar, but ask yourself: what can I give to tsunami relief? If you have already donated to any one of the numerous charitable organizations involved, you have my thanks, for you have sided with the better angels of Man's nature. If you haven't, and it is within your means, please do so.

I drink Guinness, usually $5 a pint. Can you give up four beers? $20 is not too small a gift. Every bit helps. And remember, the Lord teaches us to give quietly; so, no bragging. Thank you.

You know what came to me this morning in the shower? Tim McVeigh is dead! We are coming up on the ten anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing, a horror that, though rightly overshadowed by 9/11, we must always remember. Americans murder Americans every day, but vatos on the streets of LA are not the same as the methodical placement of an enormous bomb outside a preschool. It's nice to see that in this one case the wheels of justice turned at a decidedly non-glacial pace. Rot in Hell, Timmy, you aren't missed.

Just remember, kids, be sure not to mistake parity for parody.

A Confederacy of Dunces
As you may have read in the news, the president of Harvard University, Lawrence Summers, made a controversial speech in which he hypothesized women may simply be inferior to men when it comes to math. Thus, women are not as suited as men to careers as mathematicians and scientists. Wow. While Summers has apologized and said he was merely summarizing some preliminary research, you would have to be an incredible jackass to say what he said under any circumstances. It is disheartening to know such chauvenism still thrives, and as now be dressed up as "science." (It reminds me of those racist bastards who wrote The Bell Curve in the '90s. Remember that? It was Aryan pseudoscience all over again.) In any event, the most shocking aspect of this whole mess has been some of those who have risen to defend Summers, including Newsweek's George F. Will and Fareed Zakaria. Also, Meine Vater, who says that we should not silence intellectual debate, no matter the topic. So, hurray, in addition to being a religious bigot and a paranoid (from the frequency with which he talks about the threat of Communism, you'd think it was 1948), he has now established himself as a misogynist, too. I really should send him and Summers some Eminem CDs as presents....

I've wanted to read Keith Bradsher's High and Mighty - SUVs: The World's Most Dangerous Vehicles and How They Got That Way since it was first published in 2002, because I hate SUVs as much as the next guy. But Bradsher has so villified everything about and everyone around SUVs that I'm almsot feeling sympathetic to SUV owners. (Note that I said "almost." All SUV owners are assholes, most truck owners, too.) Basically, he's a sanctimonious s.o.b. who fawns over Bill Ford to such an extent that I'm shocked he didn't dedicate the book to him. Still, the book is greatly informative and a valuable read.

Michigan's Tom Brady is going to kick Syracuse's Donovan McNabb's ass. I remember being in the Big House on that awful day in September 1998 when the Orangemen defeated us 38-28. Really, it wasn't that close; then, as now, we had no answer for a mobile quarterback. (Defensive coordinator then: Jim Herrmann; defensive coordinator now: Jim Herrman. Coincidence?) The Eagles don't stand a change against the Patriots.

I woke up early intending to go to 10 o'clock Mass, but instead found that the plow-jerks had buried the Mousemobile. Lousy bottomfeeders. I changed clothes and spent nearly an hour digging my automobile out of the snow. I love snow and I love Winter; so, i would be a hypocrite to now bellyache about having to shovel my way to freedom. That's not what I'm doing. I am railing against the indiscriminate use of plows to clear the streets. From the disposition of the snow, the plow had approached the Mousemobile nose-to-nose and pushed as a mountain of snow right up to the front bumper and beyond. Had I not seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed how much snow was under the Mousemobile. She hadn't been driven since Friday, and I know how much snow was under her before the plows wrought their havoc; those dicks basicaly injected snow under her. In any event, after the successful shoveling I took a second shower and made it to the noon Mass with plenty of time to spare. Father Bill baptized a tiny, tiny baby. The moral of our story? Plow drivers are a cancer.

The (Second) Most Wonderful Time of the Year
See, this is what I've been talking about. What is the big deal about Michael Vick? HE CAN'T PLAY QUARTERBACK! The Atlanta Falcons had a good record this year, but I'll be damned if I know how. Prior to today's contest against the hated Eagles (I hate those guys), I'd only seen the Falcons in their loss to the Lions early in the season. They lost. To the Lions. And Vick didn't look like anything special. Against Philadelphia, he looks less-than-adequate. The man simply cannot throw the ball with the proficiency required of an NFL quarterback. He would be one of the greatest running backs in the League, but as a QB... let's just say I'm less than impressed. It's too bad, too, because I really wanted Philly to go down in flames for a fourth consecutive time. Drat!

Man, Skeeter just confused the living fuck out of me.

Kumar: "You might be worthwhile."
Harold: "I'm not worthless."

My mom woke me up at 7:02 a.m. this morning to tell me my grandmother is in the hospital. It's nothing life threatening, she didn't have a stroke or heart attack, but it's serious enough that shortly thereafter Mom left for Dayton, where she was raised and where Grandma still lives. I would be lying if I said I held any particular affection for my grandmother, and vice versa; during our Christmastime trip to Dayton, she recoiled when I hugged her. Nevertheless, she is my last surviving grandparent. Between December 1999 and July 2003, Grandpa Wilson, Grandpa Little, and Grandma Wilson died in that order. The world will be a better place when my grandmother dies, but it will make my mother quite sad; so, I hope she endures for many years to come.

Last night I watched the first half of Ken Burns's new documentary Unforgivable Blackness: The Rise and Fall of Jack Johnson. I highly recommend it and look forward to watching the second half this weekend. Among the many enviable features it boasts is narration by Keith David. I cannot imagine how, but I hope this brings us one step closer to my dream project: a movie co-starring Keith David and David Keith. And once that venture come to fruition, I know it will be easier to see Daniel Day Lewis and Daniel Dae Kim side by side.

Vote For Kodos - Inauguration Day
Wow, that's a REALLY white coat Mrs. Bush is wearing.

Hello, Kitty
Sam's creeping dementia is increasingly annoying. I'm assuming he's demented since he has food, didn't want to eat the cheese I offered him, refused to sit own on my lap or on the hassock once I moved my legs, and yet he still sat there meowing at me. Dude, what in Bog's name do you want me to do? I'll do it, but right now I've done everything I know to do for you. So, what do you want? Poor kitty, so old, so crazy.

Hey, neat, the inauguration is on C-SPAN! I listened to it on NPR and saw clips earlier on ABC, but I haven't seen most of it. Cool. Thanks, C-SPAN!

2005
It's 2005. We're living in the certifiable future. So, why haven't robots tried to enslave the human race, and where is my jetpack, dammit?

Vote For Kodos - Inauguration Day
The rhetoric in President Bush's speech, that's why I voted for the man and why over the last four years I have become convinced that he is a great president. Where we have "interfered" - Western Europe, Japan, South Korea, contemporary Afghanistan - the people have benefitted. Where we have not, or we have failed - Russia, Vietnam, Cuba, Taliban Afghanistan - the people have suffered. In ten days, the people of Iraq are going to go to the polls and vote. Vote! If you believe in democracy, you have to think that free election are an inherent good. Had we not told the corrupt UN and many of our valued allies to shove it, the Iraqi people would not now be voting; therefore, we did the right thing. Liberty. Freedom. If we stand by idly as these things are denied to much of the world, how can we call ourselves men?

All for the love of R. Dorothy Wayneright. Is it wrong to love a robot girl? Maybe. Is it wrong to love a cartoon robot girl? Probably.

Kumar: "You're worthless."
Harold: "I'm not worthwhile."

I clipped my fingernails last night and I clipped my left thumb nail too short. Ow, it's sensitive!

Learning to Love the Things You Hate
Sometimes I really find my principles in conflict with my impulses. Two examples:

Thanks to the reckless overdistribution of antibiotics, infections that were previously treatable are once again lethal. We've jump-started evolution by killing off the weak, thus encouraging the strong to be fruitful and multiply. We've created superbugs! On the one hand, it's sad that people are once again dying of consumption. On the other hand, you really have to admire Darwinism in action. The bugs were threatened with extinction and changed so that they could survive. That's awesome! So, while I don't want people to die as a result of drug-resistant infections, I find myself quietly rooting for the bugs to keep evolving, to stay one step ahead of us.

I believe in capitalism, I really do. I don't just enjoy the benefits of living in a capitalist society, I really like capitalism. The other side of that coin is my hatred for socialism. Not just Communism, I hate socialism. (Fucking Swedes.) Anywho, I also hate SUVs and the idiots who drive them. But, as a capitalist, I hasve to admire the ruthlessness with which the auto makers have marketed them and convinced people of their superior safety when, in reality, they are deathtraps. That's awesome! I hate not being able to see around those monstrosities, but I love the way Detroit duped the whole world. Caveat emptor, my friends.

Vote For Kodos - Madame Secretary
Hyperlink. Man, I have the biggest crush on Dr. Rice. Senator Biden is just upset because he wanted to be Secretary of State and Senator Kerry is upset because he really, really, really wanted to be POTUS.

Zero, One, and Seven
The numbers zero, one, and seven are very important to me. 701 is the number of all things BTW, from it's discovery inside the mechanisms of Disaster Transport to Murky Transport Disaster to the motto of Real Can of Yams, "Seven hundred and one ounces of terrible." My favorite book in all the world is The Stars My Destination. The first words of chapter one are, "He was one hundred and seventy days dying and not yet dead." Zero, one, and seven, my friends, zero, one, and seven.

I watched Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle last night. Holy wow, it was incredible. What's wrong with American cinema is that we don't have more movies starring John Cho and Kal Penn.

lists!

2154-2155
"Storm Front, Part I"
"Storm front, Part II"
"Home"
"Borderland"
"Cold Station 12"
"The Augments"
"The Forge"
"Awakening"
"Kir'Shara"
"Daedalus"

U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D
Starbase Deep Space 9
U.S.S. Defiant NX-74205
U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-E
Enterprise NX-01

Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense
Dr. Tom Manning - Director
Dr. Kate Corrigan - field operations
Hellboy - demon/Beast of the Apocalypse/bearer, Right Hand of Doom
Abraham Sapien - fishman/former human
Elizabeth Sherman - firestarter
Roger - homunculus
Johann Kraus - ectoplasmic projection
Benjamin Daimio - "Captain Zombie"

Back in the summer of 2000, my erstwhile friend and housemate Uncle Jerry acquired a steady girlfriend (now fiance) and promptly started having sex on a routine basis. He also acquired the distateful habit of marching into my room, which was off the kitchen, and proclaiming in a manner quite reminiscent of a town cryer, "I have just had sex!" Sometimes, if my door was open, he would stand in the kitchem, making himself a sandwich, and make the same boast. His favorite technique was to come in, approach for a handshake, and lean in to whisper, "I just had sex." In a word: classy.

It's not jealousy that he was having sex and I wasn't, I consider that conduct to have been reprehensible. Sexual morality is one thing, you are free to fuck whomever you want to fuck, but I cannot and will abide such unseemly braggadocio. In a related matter, I have discontinued reading a friend's. The individual in question is free to fuck whomever he/she wants to fuck, but there are things to which I will not be a party, and this is one.

Yes M!ch!gan!
On Thursday, the daytime high was in the mid-fifties, a genuine abomination. The temperature then plunged fifty degrees Fahrenheit in less than twenty-four hours. Our daytime high today is supposed to be in the mid-teens. I just changed Sam's litterbox and I can tell you it's colder than a witch's tit out there. Ah, as it should be.

First, Star Trek: Enterprise and then the premiere of Battlestar Galactica. New episodes of Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Altantis begin next week, with SG-1 at 8 p.m. opposite Enterprise. Fucking Sci Fi Channel. Sorry, chumps, the eighth season of SG-1 sucks, and Trek is still the king. Let's hope Galactica lives up to the high expectations set by the miniseries.

For more information, see my column "Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con" in The Newsletter Vol. VII, No. 6.

Why in Bog's name am I still awake?

Jumpin' Jehosephat, Lost is a great show. It's like crack, or rather, being a straight arrow/lame kid from the suburbs, it's like I would imagine crack being. In addition to everything else, it had Daniel Dae Kim, and Bog knows American television as a whole is Daniel Dae Kim deficient.

Hello, Kitty/Pug Uglies
I had about seven different dreams last night. In one of them, Sam was a pug, Tyson's size but colored like Patrick. Before anyone reads into this any lessening of my hatred for all dogs who aren't Tyson or Patrick, note that puggy Sam bit me and in so doing drew blood. The real Sam hasn't drawn my blood with a bite since the 1980s. And besides, Tyson and Patrick aren't really dogs, anyway, they are dog-monsters.

I watched Empire of Dreams tonight. I love George Lucas. I could never get away with naming a son George Lucas Wilson, could I? Of course not; George Wilson is the Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace.

"Sailing, sailing, sailing the ocean blue..."

I'm enjoying Stephen Glass's The Fabulist so much I think I shall write my first "Book Report" about it. I like it, and there are some things I think need to be said about it.

I've resolved a minor but irritating problem in In Search of the Perfect Lesbian. Parker Peppard's girlfriend. Should Parker have a girlfriend? (Probably, since neither Pete nor Scipio do and it seems at least one of the boys should.) Who is this girl? A Canadian named Rachel? A Swiss miss named Sussi? No, my friends, to conquer the heart of Parker Ferdinand Peppard, only one sort of girl will do. Brandy McQuarters, a belle of Texas, tall and blonde and sweet, and smart enough to know she can't compete with Parker's affection for Mary Cannibal.

Prussia or Russia? Preview or review? Prevenge or revenge? Psalm or... salm?

Finally, a NASA mission that strikes the perfect balance between science and destruction.

"Good news, everyone!" NPR's Daniel Schorr thinks Dan Rather bears no responsibility at all for the forged memos debacle. I'd agree if Rather had declared, "Hey, don't blame me, I'm just a new reader." But no, The Dan still claims to be a journalist.

Speaking of the two Dans, I recently learned that President Nixon did not have an actual enemies list. I find this very disappointing. To wit:

Mike Wilson's Enemies List
Mike Wilson (the dark bastard)
Rick Wilson

Honestly, one of my problems is that I have so few enemies left. With the exception of Meine Vater, with whom I'll be locked in combat until one of us is dead, I have defeated or left behind all of my old enemies: Sean Dale, Mrs. Kozad, Uncle Jerry, Captain Obvious and the Idiot Brigade. All have been neutralized and pose no further threat. Some would say it's good to have no enemies, but I find talking to those people in no way worthwhile. A man needs enemies, victories to win, defeats to overcome, a struggle to make life more lively. Anyone want to be my enemy? I promise to crush you. Any takers?

The Queue
Alan Dershowitz, The Case for Israel
Michael Ledeen, Freedom Betrayed
Mona Charen, Useful Idiots
Tobias Wolff, The Barracks Thief
Stephen Glass, The Fabulist *in progress*
Keith Bradsher, High and Mighty
Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe, and Everything
Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
Douglas Adams, "Young Zaphod Plays It Safe"
Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless
Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Bram Stoker, Dracula
Leslie Charteris, "Dammit, Mike, check some of his books out of the library!"

Boy howdy, do I love books.

M2K4... M2K5!
NASA rules! My excitment was prompted by both the Spirit and Opportunity Mars rovers still operating after a full year on the surface of the Red Planet. A year! Sweet mercy, these things were designed to operate for 90 days. 90 days, and they are still running on all cylinders after 360 days. Wow! Huzzah for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration! "Science!"

I love that Iraqis living in Jordan will be able to vote in January 30's elections, as will Iraqis living in Syria. Of course, Jordanians living in Jordan and Syrians living in Syria won't have the chance to vote in their own countries or for their own leaders any time in the foreseeable future. Still, I rejoice that democracy does appear to be on the march. Today Afghanistan, tomorrow Iraq, the day after that... the world? Fingers crossed.

I love that heads rolled at CBS over the forged memos. I disagree with those who say Dan Rather should have been fired. The man has been the face of CBS News for over two decades. His prestige has made millions upon millions of dollars for CBS over those years, and he has already anounced his retirement in March. Yes, his conduct in this whole affair was disgraceful, but his reputation has already been tarnished. Let the man retire on his own schedule and with a shred of dignity.

At the same time, "Ding dong, the witch is dead!" Seriously, read Bernard Goldberg's books Bias and Arrogance. The forged memos story and scandal were practically scripted in his books. He's both the Martin Luther and Nostradamus of American journalism.

Vote For Kodos
Shortly after Election Day, I was listening to The Diane Rehm Show and heard a caller accuse, in a polite and friendly manner, Mrs. Rehm of having a liberal bias. Mrs. Rehm replied that of course she had a liberal bias, as long as one defined "liberal" to mean open to all points of view and willing to consider any reasonable proposal. One of the sections of a personal profile on Friendster.com is "Who I Want to Meet." As I have explored by second- and third-degree connections, I have encountered "Not Republicans" listed quite frequently in the aforementioned catagory. I suppose at this point I qualify as confused. From the rest of the information gleaned from the profiles of these people, it is safe to assume that a number of them would best be described as liberals. Yet, they find it reasonable to renounce en masse associations with any and all Republicans with whom they are not previously acquainted. Perhaps the failure is one of imagination, and therefore mine, but I cannot make this round peg fit into the square hole of Mrs. Rehm's definition of liberalism. I can only then assume that though liberals sincerely wish it to be true, they are in fact not the open-minded, tolerant people they imagine themselves to be. You could say that statement is a harsh oversimplification, but before you do, please consider this: I am neither a liberal nor a conservative, though my political allegiance is to the Right. I would estimate that a small majority of my friends are Democratic voters; furthermore, I would never entertain the suggestion of typing "Not Democrats" under "Who I Want to Meet."

If you are less open-minded and fair than I, much maligned as inflexible and incapable of admitting error or suffering disagreement, then perhaps you should take a moment to pause and reflect on how truly tolerant or intolerant you may be. Are you more intolerant that The Last Angry Man?

This is a serious matter that deserves your attention and consideration. The IDF officers involved find themselves on the opposite end of the political spectrum from the "refuseniks" who refuse to serve in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, but practicing the same disturbing behavior. Simply put, if military personnel refuse to execute the orders given to them by their civilian superiors, democracy as we know it cannot survive. Even if the directives of the civilian authoritites are ludicrous (take for example President Johnson and Defense Secretary McNamara personally picking the individual target and payload for every sortie over North Vietnam), soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines must either execute their orders or resign in protest. When an officer refuses an order, the civilian government is no longer in control of its military. There is more than a little truth in Tennyson's words, here quoted without irony:

"Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die."

Hello, Kitty
I'm kind of worried. On the one hand, Sam is eating voraciously. Surely this is an improvement over the week prior to Christmas, during which he hardly ate a thing. But, I'm now changing his litter box every other day. The food seems to be running right through him. Hmmmm. I shall have to consult the veterinarian, see what there is to be seen. Hang in there, Sammy.

I'm thinking of changing comic book shops. Laugh if you must, but this could be a big deal. I've had my pulls at the Underworld since I started reading comics in the summer of 2000. I "grew up" there.

Revenge of the Sith... so close now... so close....

Empire of Pictus
Imperial Watch
--Legions
--Squadrons
--Self-Defense Forces (formerly of the Rynlander Presidium)
--Pethlo Guard
--Hsi Horrors
--Knights Jurai
--Royal Guard

Otrosi League
Army of the League

Royal Akari Confederation
Royal Pilots Corps

Rynoran Republic
The Regiments
Home Defense Forces

Aeloosian Federation
Planetary Corps

Sur'ka Directorate
privateers

Sovereignty of the Spada
Royal Space Navy

Union of Democracy and Freedom
Star Service

defunct states
Tehl Larian Autocracy
Autocrat's Guard
Autocratic Domination Forces
--Enkari Janissaries
--Otrosi Janissaries
--Batay Janissaries

Royallian People's State*
People's Armed Front of the Revolution

*later the Rynlander Presidium, then admitted into the Empire of Pictus

I am a wretched creature. There is something horrible inside of me, a dark and terrible thing. When I lose my temper and make unimaginably cruel utterances (and what's worse, when I mean them), that's my true face. Everything good inside me comes from the Almighty. Every kind and charitable impulse comes from Him killing a small part of the monster inside me. As such, my very favorite words in Mass come during the preparation of gifts, when the bread and wine are transubstantiated into the Body and Blood of Christ:

"Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed."

And I shall be healed.

Vote For Kodos - The Sons of Ishmael
Who do you think is going to be elected president of the Palestinian Authority, the terrorist or the other terrorist? Hyperlink. The most likely new Palestinian leader is Mahmoud Abbas, a.k.a. Abu Mazen. Yes, he's better than Yasser Arafet, but we must bear in mind that just last week Abbas denounced the State of Israel as the "Zionist enemy." Mr. Abbas has also, at various points in his career, denied that the Holocaust ever happened. Just so you know with whom the Israelis will be negotiating.

Last night, I had dinner and saw two movies with the Sardine. At dinner, we briefly talked about breast augmentation and why even large breasted girls like Sardine think about getting it. Perhaps I am so unlucky in love because I have never understood why every girl in the fucking world is so terribly insecure. Not only do I not understand it, I have no tolerance for it, either. Bog below, get some self-esteem!

(The preceeding rant was not directed toward any one particular individual, but the daughters of Eve as a whole.)

How to explain my inexplicable silence? I've had bigger fish to fry, amigos, bigger fish to fry.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
While there is almost a full half of football left to play, I feel confident in saying that for the second year in a row, Oklahoma has demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that they do not belong in the national championship game. Last year's Sugar Bowl should have been played between LSU and USC. This year's Orange Bowl clearly should have been played between USC and Auburn. Now Auburn is left high and dry, 13-0 and almost certain to be denied even a little share of the national championship, while Oklahoma has once again squandered an opportunity they didn't deserve. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! I love this. I never thought I'd be so happy to see Southern Cal win.

Make no mistake, as a Michigan alumnus I hate USC (we have lost six or seven thousand Rose Bowls to them). But, like the animosity I feel for Ohio State, that hatred is accompanied by respect. By way of contrast, every time I see Bob Stoops I devoutly wish he was bleeding from his eyes.

The BCS and Oklahoma are perfect companions: both are buried up to their eyes in bullshit. Go Trojans!

My DVD Collection
Yet more proof that I'm better than you. American movies first, then television series, and finally anime.

About a Boy
The Beast
Bend It Like Beckham
Black Hawk Down
A Bug's Life
Casablanca
Crimson Tide
Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
Donnie Darko
The Fifth Element
Fight Club
Finding Nemo
The Flight of the Phoenix
Garden State
Hellboy (3 discs, The Director's Cut)
The Adventures of Indiana Jones
--Raiders of the Lost Ark
--Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
--Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
--Indiana Jones Bonus Material
Jaws
Josie and the Pussycats
Miracle
Monsters, Inc.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Panic Room
Personal Velocity
The Royal Tenenbaums
Rushmore
SLC Punk
Spider-Man
Star Trek: The Motion Picture (The Director's Edition)
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (The Director's Edition)
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country
Star Trek Generations
Star Trek: Nemesis
Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace
Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones
Star Wars Trilogy
--Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope
--Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
--Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi
--Star Wars Bonus Material
Strange Brew
This is Spinal Tap
Toy Story
Toy Story 2
UHF
Unbreakable
Van Wilder
Waiting For Guffman
We Were Soldiers

*****

Freaks and Geeks The Complete Series
Futurama Volume 1
Futurama Volume 2
Futurama Volume 3
Futurama Volume 4
Invader Zim: Doom Doom Doom vol. 1
Invader Zim: Progressive Stupidity vol. 2
Invader Zim: Horrible Holiday Cheer vol. 3
The Office The Complete First Series
The Office The Complete Second Series
The Office Special
Samurai Jack Season 1
Space Ghost: Coast to Coast Volume One
Sports Night The Complete Series Plus Pilot Episode
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 1
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 2
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 3
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 4
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 5
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 6
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Season 7

*****

The Big O Volume One
The Big O Volume Two
The Big O Volume Three
The Big O Volume Four
Cowboy Bebop 1st Session
Cowboy Bebop 2nd Session
Cowboy Bebop 3rd Session
Cowboy Bebop 4th Session
Cowboy Bebop 5th Session
Cowboy Bebop 6th Session
Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on Heaven's Door (a.k.a. The Movie)
FLCL vol. 1
FLCL vol. 2
FLCL vol. 3
Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team vol. 1
Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team vol. 2
Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team vol. 3
Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team vol. 4
Love Hina vol. 1
Love Hina Christmas Movie
Love Hina Spring Movie
Love Hina Again

All strong. All brave. All heroes.

Vote For Kodos - Moral Superiority
The United States has been accused by a United Nations official of being stingy with aid in the aftermath of the Indian Ocean tsunami. This despire the financial and military power fo the United States being brought to bear, and the significantly smaller contributions made my other nations and supranational organizations. Things to consider:

Sandra Bullock Population: 1 person; Pledged aid: $1,000,000
= $1,000,000 per person

The United States of America Population: 295,000,000 people; Pledged aid: $350,000,000
= $1.19 per person

The European Union Population: 457,000,000; Pledged aid: $30,000,000
= $0.07 per person

Hurray for European moral superiority, eh?

For most of the month of December, Blogger was working fairly well. Nice to know that in 2005 those cuntrags at Pyra Labs have gone back to running an utterly inept operation. I hope you die, you motherfuckers, but only after sufferly greatly.

The Mountain is gone and the Christmas decorations have been put away. I've never understood how people can get depressed around the holidays, but I certainly empathize with anyone who, like me, gets depressed after the New Year. *sigh* Don't cry for me, Argentina.

Next topic!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
It was nice to see us carry on the time-honored Michigan tradition of losing the Rose Bowl. Bo must be so proud. Dammit dammit dammit. Unless we make some major changes on defense and figure out how to stop mobiule quarterbacks, we are going to get embarrassed by the mobile quarterbacks of both Michigan State and Ohio State. I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but we're really going to miss Braylon Edwards on offense next year. I like both Avant and Breaston, but one of them is going to have to step up and fill Edwards's shoes in catching the fade. As for the defense... we're really going to be leaning on the offense next season.

Go Honoluly Blue!
Finishing the year at 6-10, the Lions improved on last season's 5-11 record, but also underachieved preseason expectations by two games. Charles Rogers missed most of last year hurt, we had not yet drafted Roy Williams, and we had no running game; we were lucky to go 5-11. This year, still without Rogers, but with Williams ar receiver and Kevin Jones in the back field, I really feel this team had the talent to be better than 6-10, especially given that in a just world they would have lost their last divisional game against Chicago and thus finished 5-11. Steve Mariucci CANNOT continue to run the offense and manage the team as a whole; he needs to hire an independent offensive coordinator or assistant head coach or something. And I'm pissed off that Dre Bly was named to the Pro Bowl, since he had a miserable year and didn't look half as good as he did last year.

There may of course be inaccuracies, especially omissions. I like lists!

Hellboy: Seed of Destruction no. 1
Hellboy: Seed of Destruction no. 2
Hellboy: Seed of Destruction no. 3
Hellboy: Seed of Destruction no. 4
Hellboy: The Wolves of Saint August
Hellboy: Wake the Devil no. 1
Hellboy: Wake the Devil no. 2
Hellboy: Wake the Devil no. 3
Hellboy: Wake the Devil no. 4
Hellboy: Wake the Devil no. 5
Hellboy: The Corpse and the Iron Shoes
Hellboy: Almost Colossus no. 1
Hellboy: Almost Colossus no. 2
Abe Sapien: Drums of the Dead, featuring the back-up "Heads"
Hellboy: Box Full of Evil no. 1, featuring the back-up "The Killer in My Skull"
Hellboy: Box Full of Evil no. 2, featuring the back-up "Abe Sapien Versus Science"
Hellboy: Conqueror Worm no. 1
Hellboy: Conqueror Worm no. 2
Hellboy: Conqueror Worm no. 3
Hellboy: Conqueror Worm no. 4
Hellboy: Conqueror Worm no. 5
B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth no. 1
B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth no. 2
B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth no. 3
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 1
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 2
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 3
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 4
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 5
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 6
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 7
Hellboy: Weird Tales no. 8
B.P.R.D.: The Soul of Venice
B.P.R.D.: Dark Waters
B.P.R.D.: Night Train
B.P.R.D.: There's Something Under My Bed
B.P.R.D.: Plague of Frogs no. 1
B.P.R.D.: Plague of Frogs no. 2
B.P.R.D.: Plague of Frogs no. 3
B.P.R.D.: Plague of Frogs no. 4
B.P.R.D.: Plague of Frogs no. 5
B.P.R.D.: The Dead no. 1
B.P.R.D.: The Dead no. 2 (more to come)

The tsunami is just about the worst thing to ever happen, but in all honesty I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed A.D. 2004. It was a far from perfect year, but aren't they all? I've now experienced a quarter century of life, with very little to show for it except some fancy papers, the best friends in the world, and some incredibly memories. I can now add to their number last night's astoundingly fun show. Holy balls, there is no more fun a time to be had than a Real Can of Yams show. I am pissed at my "friends" who didn't show up, but I also pity them.

H-A-N
Have a knight.

Goodnight, we're through!

REAL CAN OF YAMS
*** LIVE ON STAGE! *** TONIGHT ONLY! ***
The Flint Local 432 in Exile (Metropolis), downtown Flinttown!

Be there or you suck.

The only important news story in the world right now is the tsunami. May the Lord Almighty have mercy on those poor people in South Asia, Southeast Asia, and Oceania.

Between the trip to Ohio (brief though it was), Steeze staying with us, and only three days (yesterday, today, and the show is tomorrow!) to prepare for the rock show, things have been pretty hectic around here. So if you've sent me an email and I haven't responded, please don't be pissed, I really do want to get back to you/see you. Honest.

At least last night I got to see Skeeter, Reed, and "associated fiance" Cristina. Good time had by all.

My Generation
I have no cousins on the Wilson side of my family. On the Little side, my mom, her sister, and their two brothers have an average of 2.5 children each. Half of us don't have the last name Little, but here is my generation of the Little family, recently gathered in Springboro, Ohio:

Lisa
Michael
David
Anna
Christopher
Matthew
Daniel
Jamie
Meghan
Joshua

Go Honolulu Blue!
Ha! No Lions/hairshirt-wearing for me! We can still finish 7-9, if we don't get cocky. Let's go, boys, I believe in you.

H-A-N
Have a night in a box.

"Man alive, there are men alive in here." This is a wild story. I mean, I had never even heard of the Martian Manhunter until I became a fanboy (started reading comic books)in 2000.

H-A-N
Wednesday's...
Have a preppy night.

Thursday's...
Have a nightlight.

Today's...
Have a night that, if one wanted to be precise, could only be described as verbose.

Bog below, there is so much snow on the ground outside. Not crazy, no-one-can-get-anywhere snow, but still lots and lots of the white. Woot! My only concern is whether The L.A.W. will be able to fly in to Metro tomorrow and whether Meine Vater will be able to pick her up there.

Hello, Kitty
Sam's just not eating, and that can't be good. He's always been reluctant to eat his medicinal food, but now he's barely touching it. More worrying, he's also barely eating any of his conventional Fancy Feast. Oh, Sammy, what's wrong?

"More organs means more human. It will work."

Go Honolulu Blue!
Man, I said some really unkind things about Muhlbach in the aftermath of yesterday's game. Dang. Oh well, there's always next year.... Of course I wore the shirt today. Hairshirt, anyone?

The Mountain is home. Blog posts will be sporatic.

The Newsletter Annual should go out in tomorrow's mail.

Vote For Kodos - Meet the Press
I was able to listen to all of President Bush's press conference this morning. Boy howdy, am I so grateful I was twice able to vote for that man.

H-A-N
Have a musical night.

Go Honolulu Blue!
At this point in time, Roy Williams is not half as good as he was at the beginning of the season and he was fallen far short of his hype. The Lions defense forced a two-yard loss on first down, got a sack on second down, and then on a third and twenty-four gave up an eighty-two yard touchdown pass. I'm not saying Steve Mariucci, Dick Jauron, and the entire coaching staff need to be fired, but it is time to start talking about firing them. It is time to start looking at what other coaches are available around the league, because Mariucci's staff has proven absolutely unable to stop the high number of dropped passes that are killing our offense. I want to have faith in Mooch, but his staff are not getting the job done, the players are getting worse as the season goes on, and if he is not willing to fire some of his assistants and hired qualified, competent people in their place, he will have to go. The Lions' offensive assistant coaches need to lose their jobs, the Lions need an offensive coordinator since Mariucci has proven he cannot run the team and the offense himself, and if these things don't happen, Steve Mariucci needs to lose his job.

The Lions will never win a Super Bowl in my lifetime preciselyb ecause Matt Millen still has his job. Millen hired Marty Mornhinweg, and wanted to keep him aroud for a third season after he went 5-27 over two years. Millen drafted Charles Rogers, who so far is the most fragile person to ever be a professional football player. Millen fired Johnny Morton and paid a king's ransom to get Bill Schroeder. Mariucci could turn out the be the greatest coach in NFL history, and Joey Harrington could turn into the best quarterback ever, but the Lions will never have a winnning record as long as Matt Millen is around.

Parker Posey Appreciation Day
Meine Vater and I saw Blade: Trinity last weekend. What's wrong with America is that Parker Posey isn't our biggest movie star. I don't care whether or not you like vampire movies, go see it for the glorious Ms. Posey.

Vote For Kodos - National Security
When Representatives Hunter (R, California) and Sensenbrenner (R, Wisconsin) held up the intelligence reform bill, President Bush's "failure to pass vital intelligence reform" lead the news. When the bill was passed a scant two weeks later, and when President Bush signs it, as he did today, it is the second or third item. Yep, no bias to be seen.

I just saw The Flight of the Phoenix, the 1965 film starring James Stewart. Holy cow. Absolutely amazing. I shall have to write a "Hollywoodland" about it, as soon as I get a good night's sleep.

Speaking of which, I'm not sure just how it happened, but this week has been a horror. Wednesday, Thursday (except when I watched The Flight of the Phoenix), and today, I feel as if I haven't spent a single moment at home. I'm so tired. But of course, I won't really be able to sleep tonight.

Sorry for whining.

One legitimate grievance: both my parents are sleeping downstairs. For fuck's sake, you assholes, you have a king-sized bed. Do you really have to monopolize the entire first floor?

American Empirical
Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and The Royal Tenenbaums. Boy howdy, I can't wait for The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

H-A-N
Have a wise night.

Pug Uglies
I started taking care of Tyson and Patrick today, and they are much more aggresive than the last time I watched them. They snip at each other more, and gleefully gnaw on my fingers. Of course, they are almost completely harmless. I hope Sam doesn't get jealous; I know he smelled dog-monster on me yesterday, after I visited the pugs to get my instructions from The Guy's mom. I hope he doesn't hold it against me.

Banner work at The Palace yesterday, Pistons vs. Cavaliers tonight, banner work tomorrow to undo Wednesday's banner work. And the way Dorna works, it'll be a month before I see the money. Woot! Thank Bog this is just for extra scratch, not my real job.

H-A-N
Have a firebreathing night.

Vote For Kodos
I know most of you probably don't want to hear it, but now that it's over, I honestly miss the election. Rummy's comments and Bernie Kerik's denomination are all fine and good, but mostly those stories have been kept alive because the press are (a) bored becuase it's December and (b) still pouting about the election and thus the piling on. But I miss the wrangling, the arguing, the messy way American campaigns are waged. I am a political junkie and I miss my fix.

Go Honolulu Blue!
I don't mind losing to a superior team, I really don't. But to blow a thirteen point lead, and allow sixteen unanswer points... that's heartbreaking. Then again, that's my Lions. The gibberish about benching Harrington in favor of McMahon is foolishness of the highest order. Did you see Schlesinger's dropped pass? Streets's dropped pass? Dropped passes that hit receivers right in the hands? Right in the numbers? Joey Harrington is no Brett Favre, but he could really use some help from his fucking receiving corps.

It is now all but impossible for the Lions to finish the season 8-8, but 7-9 is still within realistic grasp. We have found ways to underachieve this year, not just to be overwhelmed my superior opposition, but to lose games we should have won. But something can still be salvaged. If this team has any heart, it must win two out of its last three games. Home against the Minnesota Vikings, home against the Chicago Bears, and away at the Tennessee Titans. Come on Lions.

Imperial Assault Carrier
Imperial Dreadnaught
Imperial Ship-of-the-Line
Imperial Corvette
Otrosi Man-of-War
Rynoran Heavy Cruiser
Caliphate Leviathan

H-A-N
H A _ _
A
_ W _ N G _ N G
N _ G H _.

"Just two more days 'til Christmas
And still haven't see a package,
One that stands about 5'5"
With little air holes in the sides.
I'd run downstairs and open it up
Before anyone was even up.
I would throw the wrapping to the side,
And you'd be standing there all smiles."
--Mu330, "Three Days 'Til Christmas" from Winter Wonderland

Blue Tree Whacking Films tactlessly presents
Smith and Winkler: The Final Hoe-Down

Blue Tree Whacking Films recklessly presents
The Fantabulous Misadventures of Skip Carmichael

Blue Tree Whacking Films merrily presents
Smith and Winkler Save Christmas

"swim team"
words by M. Wilson

(chorus)
swim team! swim team! U-S-A!
swim team! swim team! hey hey hey!
Hop in the pool, it's so much fun!
We've got flourescents, who needs the Sun?
Morning practice at five-fifteen,
All day long you smell like chlorine!

Freshman year your job's to do lane lines,
The Girls' Swim team is really fine,
Swimmer girls so hot you'll lose your mind,
But I digress, one thing at a time.
Breaststroke! Backstroke! Butterfly!
Freestyle sprints, it's time to fly!

(chorus)

Swim-Kick-Pull is in full effect,
Stroke drills make sure our stroke's correct.
Pearce on the deck in a Phish T-shirt,
Today's work out looks like it will hurt.
Breaststroke! Backstroke! Butterfly!
Freestyle sprints, too tired to fly!

(instrumental bridge)

The time clock chimes, you don't want to go,
Endless laps, round and round you go,
When it's done, you'll do it again,
Man, I hope Coach has a master plan.
Breaststroke! Backstroke! Butterfly!
Freestyle sprints, it's time to die!

(chorus)

But I've never been able to get Steeze to write music for my lyrics; so, this one will probably never be an RCY song.

Christmas Should Be Lasting All Year Long*
Thanks to the marvel of modern e-commerce, in just a few moments I was able to complete half my Christmas/birthday shopping (both my mom's and my sister's birthdays are in December). My thanks to a series of geeks who spent way too much time writing code and slaving to perfect many different software applications. Hurray for HAL science. "Science!"

*Borrowed from Murky Transport Disaster, "Christmas Should Be Lasting All Year Long" from The Murky Transport Disaster Disaster Transport Transport Disaster

Vote For Kodos - The Rain in Spain
The Spaniards are the absolute worst people in Europe, even worse than the Swiss, whose economy is based on gold stolen by the Nazis from their Jewish victims. Even worse than the Dutch, who burn mosques as a pasttime. Even worse than the French, who fought like hell to keep Algeria enslaved. I feel sympathy for the victims of 3/11, especially since their deaths were in vain once their country gave the jihadists exactly what they wanted. Hyperlink.

Never Girl and Never Boy have bought a house in Sacramento, which I have dubbed the Neverhaus. Buying a house together is a much bigger step than sharing an apartment. Thus, because they are now basically common-law married, their nicknames will henceforth be Mr. and Mrs. Never. I really like the term Neverhaus.

Hello, Kitty
I was at Sam's veterinarian's office today to pick up some medicinal food meant to help his ailing kidneys. I said "Hello" to Skeeter's mom in the lobby, but she didn't recognize me. Beginning Thursday, I will once again be taking care of Patrick and Tyson; so, look for the return of "Pug Uglies" posts. They are such horrible monsters!

H-A-N
Have a stargazing night.

Hello, Kitty
Sam must be feeling better because he's becoming more pushy and vocal (the biggest change) about his food. If his dish is empty for three seconds, he's in your face demanding attention and, more imortantly, food. He's a ravenous little bugger. Hurray! Appetite can only be a good thing.

"You're very small, ZIM. You're a tiny thing."

Series
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

Die Hard
Die Hard 2: Die Harder
Die Hard With a Vengeance

Blade
Blade II
Blade: Trinity

Alien
Aliens
Alien 3
Alien Resurrection

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me
Austin Powers in Goldmember

Batman
Batman Returns
Batman Forever
Batman & Robin
Batman Begins

Murky Transport Disaster
Summer 2000 - world premiere of Smith and Winkler: The Final Hoe-Down

Real Can of Yams
Summer 2001 - world premiere of The Fantabulous Misadventures of Skip Carmichael
Christmas 2001 - w/Tommy's Frogs
Summer 2002
Christmas 2002 - w/Tommy's Frogs
Christmas 2004 - w/Tommy's Frogs

*** REAL CAN OF YAMS *** Live on Stage! *** Thursday, December 30 *** The Flint Local 432 in Exile, downtown Flinttown ***

It snowed again last night! The light powder of Saturday has been augmented with a heavy, wet overnight snow. Woot! Please please please please please let us have a white Christmas.

Who would win in a fight, Moses or the Buddha?

Exactly fourteen days 'til Christmas and the yard is covered by our fourth snow of the winter! This is awesome. No list from The L.A.W. yet, though; I hope she likes clearance priced Van Helsing toys. ^_^

Lies, More Lies, and Damned Lies
I tried to listen to The Diane Rehm Show on Wednesday because the topic was Tuesday's terrorist attack on the U.S. consulate in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. But I had to turn it off after about five minutes, because both Mrs. Rehm and her guests kept calling the terrorists "insurrgents," not terrorists. I can understand the preference for the term insurrgents in the context of Iraq. Zarqawi and Ansar al-Islam are terrorists, but to describe the entire Iraqi resistance as terrorism would be to cheapen the meaning of the word. But to call a brazen attack on one of our consulates an act of "insurrgency" is simply absurd and intellectually dishonest. I guess then that Carlos the Jackal was not a terrorist, but an insurrgent. ETA and the IRA aren't terrorist groups, they are insurrgent coalitions. Osama bin Laden doesn't practice terrorism, he just fosters insurrgencies.

Malaise Forever
Of course this would also be a good time to remind everyone that President Jimmy has said that Zarqawi, famous for beheading Western contractors, is the moral equivalent of Samuel Adams, Thomas Jefferson, or Patrick Henry. Then again, Jimmy also thought the Ayatollah Khomeini was a man we could do business with; so, it's clear he has difficulty distinguishing his arse from a hole in the ground.

I have to agree with Homer Simpson, "We elected the wrong Carter."

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
One nice thing about the end of the college football season, I can once again listen to This American Life on Saturday afternoons.

H-A-N
Have an itchy night.

I was at Meijer this afternoon and saw a display for canine dental health products. In bold letters were the words "Helps fight plaque." For just a moment, I imagined it read "Helps fight plague." Hee hee. Plague.

"Oh, that? That's the plague plaque, in rememberance of the Prague Plague."

Star Trek, 1966-69
Star Trek: The Next Generation, 1987-94
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, 1993-99
Star Trek: Voyager, 1995-2001
Star Trek: Enterprise, 2001-(2008)

Law & Order
Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Law & Order: Trial by Jury

You know, despite his annoying and infantile teasing about the red background of my comments, I really owe Daddy Dylweed for getting me addicted to Netflix. And yes, the proper word is addicted. If I wasn't addicted, I'd have cancelled it at the end of the free month. Here's your chance, readers, to have your opinions not summarily dismissed: I would appreciate recommendations. What movies should I rent? Feel free to leave multiple suggestions.

H-A-N
Have a branded night.

Ego Trek
George Takei can go to hell. Hyperlink. Enterprise isn't Roddenberry's vision because it is set earlier in time than the original Star Trek and yet he wants to make Excelsior movies? Hey, asshole, a Star Trek: Excelsior series would be set earlier in time than The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and the TNG movies. Fucking hypocrite.

Happy Birthday
Happy birthday to The L.A.W.! Of course, it would be nice if she actually produced a list of what she'd like for her birthday and Christmas... but at least she sez she's working on it. Happy birthday, sis. Love ya.

One of my favorite jokes from Futurama is Dr. Zoidberg's pronunciation of robot as "robit." Today, I saw an old video clip of Isaac Asimov, creator of the 3 Laws of Robotics, pronouncing robot as "robit." Hurray! Yet another sci fi joke buried deep within Futurama!

I also love that the alien Zoidberg's first name is John. And his uncle is Harold Zoid. "From the desk of Dr. John Zoidberg." Hee hee.

Let us hope that Sharon and Peres can work something out; a Likud-Labour unity government would put Israel in the strongest possible position when the time comes to open nogotiations with the new Palestinian "government" (to be elected in January). Hyperlink.

H-A-N
Have a campout night.