ATTN President Bush

Mr. President! The bright boys in at the D.o.D. have another idea as to why they hate us! You know who I'm talking about! I'd use a different noun there but I'm afraid this inter-office e-mail could leak out to some of those grubby journalists we loathe so much! Maybe it isn't our freedom after all?

Here's a pertinent quote from the report, the Christian Science Monitor's already all over it (yeah, we know what you're thinking, we all figured they'd give us a free pass too, just like the majority of those suckers, due to the good old 'C' word in their title, but golly sir!):

'Muslims do not hate our freedom, but rather they hate our policies [the report says]. The overwhelming majority voice their objections to what they see as one-sided support in favor of Israel and against Palestinian rights, and the long-standing, even increasing, support for what Muslims collectively see as tyrannies, most notably Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Pakistan and the Gulf states. Thus, when American public diplomacy talks about bringing democracy to Islamic societies, this is seen as no more than self-serving hypocrisy.'

What a load of hooey, huh sir? I know, we all agree with you! (After all, that's why we're still hanging around isn't it? No rocking the boat 'neath this captain, right?)

Don't they know that freedom is on the march? Don't they know that we were greeted as liberators? Don't they know you're a uniter, not a divider (both at home and abroad)?

xoxo,

Dick Cheney's Pacemaker

sandwiches time

"A decade-old grilled cheese sandwich bearing what could be the image of the Virgin Mary is garnering intense interest on an internet auction site."

This particular grilled cheese sandwich not only features the Virgin Mary's visage, but it hasn't developed a spot of mold over its ten year life.

At last we've found the Broodwich's holy counterpart. Remember- bacon is extra.

You really should read the above article, it's kind of amazing. Like the Panthers say, thanks for the simulacra.

(I don't really like that song, though. It just happens to be on the Vice Records sampler that came with my purchase of Death from Above 1979's newest release, the awesomely-titled and just plain awesome "You're a Woman, I'm a Machine." The sampler also has tracks from the band Vietnam, who are pretty damned bad, although the singer does a fine Bob Dylan impression on one of the tunes. And, if they're the same band I saw open for Trail of Dead a couple of years ago, they're (vietnam) boring live too. But Trail of Dead continues to slay, both live and on record. Two drummers! One of whom makes frequent use of a tympani! Kill!)

hamster huey and the gooey kablooie

I had a good time at the women's basketball game tonight. It was their first exhibition game of the year, but they looked pretty sharp. We're loaded with talented freshman, so even if the team is a little bit shakey at first, I'm thinking that there's nowhere to go but up. Coach Blair is doing a great job of recruiting it seems. As usual we were on the front row, center court: prime heckling position. Good crowd too, for an exhibition game against something called from Ohio (I believe) called 'Athletes in Action.' They're down with JC, I think. Good for them.

Anyway, as soon as Michelle and I walked in, we were nabbed to participate in one of those little games that go on during timeouts when the dance team is too tired to do their patented 'hop up and down and clap hands rhythmically' routine. Midway through the first half we both climbed into inflatable hamster wheels a la bubble boys (and girls) and when the time came we raced the length of the court, there and back, twice. I was wearing flip flops, which aren't great for running, but now is not the time for excuses: besides, with my surge in the final stretch, I was crowned Hamster Race Champion. I rule over my subjects with an iron fist and a short temper.

In exchange for our efforts, we both received black Blair Hoops Project shirts from last season and posters with this season's schedule. I was hoping for one of the new BG/GB shirts, but as Mick Jagger told us, you can't always get what you want. Incidentally, that was the song that blared from Reed Arena's speakers time and again last season after just about every loss (and there were many). Melvin Watkins could probably do a decent karaoke version of it, in fact. Melvin, I believed in you till the end, but let's face the facts: you couldn't lead our men to victory. Playing Kansas (and Texas, and Tech, and just about everyone else) close for three-fourths of the game and then giving away the it all away in the final ten minutes just doesn't cut it. But you had a nice golden parachute, so I doubt you're sweating it.

Around half time KBTX's sports guy (and Ron Burgundy look-a-like: stay classy) showed up with a camera and a hot dog: a prepared journalist if ever I saw one. He wound up taking a reaction shot of all of us on the front row going crazy over some really mundane little jumper (hey, everyone acts that way when you put a camera on 'em, that's why there is no "reality" television) and promised us it'd be on the 10 o'clock news.

Yeah, sure, I think. The whole piece'll get a minute or so, and we'll wind up on the cutting room floor. Thanks anyway, dude.

Despite my doubts, we watched. And after a few highlights, there we were- basically the whole shot he took of us made it. It ended on me (save the best for last, right?), and was pretty funny, all things considered. Michelle and I are the new stars of KBTX, as we may've been shown in coverage of the (early) Veteran's Day parade that took place in Bryan on Sunday afternoon. We missed it, though, and of course no one we know watches the local news, not even for weather. After all, that's what I use the window for.

What else? We had a co-ed intramural football game at 11, in which we ran out of time. Eddie, Phil and I hashed it out a little while ago, so there's no real reason to go into it here: it would only get me upset again. We did our best, but we didn't play our best, so it's kind of hard to deal with. That's the playoffs- win or go home. The men's team plays tomorrow evening: hopefully we'll have a better ending.

I have to be at work in six hours. And though I think I could prattle on for a few more paragraphs, I am hereby calling it a night. Stay classy.

an open letter to the recently vanquished democratic presidential nominee

Dear Senator Kerry,

I know this is a hard time for you, and for me, and for our like-minded brethren. I know you gave it your best shot, and I know that you probably already know that your supporters did likewise. You gave a good concession speech, hitting all the right notes with what looked like, to this citizen, real, honest emotion. But I wanted to let you in on some good news. I found it to be heartening at least.

Although I was unable to deliver my home state of Texas (a hotbed of conservatism, as I'm sure you're aware), my home county of Jim Wells was firmly in your column. Senators Kerry and Edwards, we did our best, offering a tiny patch of blue in the belly of the red monolith.

Keep on fighting for us, gentlemen. We'll keep on fighting for you.

death to everyone

is gonna come. Wolves at the door, elephant in office, whatever. Vote Republican and live forever. I live in Texas, and attend one of the most rabidly conservative schools in the nation (#1 in the Princeton Review's book). Every other person on campus seems to be wearing a shirt proclaiming their undying love of George W. Bush. And it's making me sick. On election day I felt anxious all day. I couldn't bear to watch the early returns. Probably I already knew what was to become of us. I knew but I hoped against it anyway. I hoped that people, just a simple majority of people in enough states, could see through the bullshit, the attack ads, and all the other ridiculous garbage we've been inundated with for the last few months/four years.

It didn't work out that way, obviously.

I knew my vote wasn't going to deliver Texas to Senator Kerry but of course I voted for him anyway. For all I know my home county may have gone to the Democrats. So Jim Wells didn't decide what color Texas came out on the big board. But goddamn, that man sure as shit does not speak for me. He doesn't represent what I love about this country, and neither does his party. You can fault the Democrats for any number of things, but at least they aren't as blatant about the dirty shit they pull to divide us. They aren't throwing hot button issues in our face like gay marraige to drive us apart. Of course Bush doesn't really think a constitutional amendment is going to fly, but it definitely got his people to put down their copies of the Left Behind series long enough to vote him back into office.

It's been a couple of days, conceivably long enough for these feelings to coalesce into something sensible, or so I thought. But just writing about it is making me upset. I can feel my cheeks getting red. My heartbeat is picking up the pace. I'm filled with the worst kind of rage, the kind that takes hold of you even/especially when you know that whatever you do, things aren't going to change. Impotent rage. I don't even know if I'm really just furious or depressed. A little bit of both, and it varies. Things will work out. The GOP now has enough rope to hang themselves, but the Supreme Court is getting old and the last thing this nation needs is a few more Scalias on the bench.

I now realize it's all a catch-22, straight out of Heller. Maureen Dowd put it well (as she always does) this morning:

"Mr. Bush, whose administration drummed up fake evidence to trick us into war with Iraq, sticking our troops in an immoral position with no exit strategy, won on 'moral issues.'"

But who cares? Who cares about young men and women dying when those goddamned gays want to get married? Let's not lose our focus here, people!

We've got flies in our eyes, but we can't see them. And why is that?

Because we've got flies in our eyes.