Dé Domhnaigh, Iúil 30, 2006

Burn Chadron Burn

We need something interesting to happen. The destruction of a town of 5000 would certainly qualify. It would be a national issue. Sure, there could be a terrorist attack on New York that could kill more people, but barring the apocolypse, the municipal entity of New York would still exist. The outright elimination of any town larger than a village would be an event, and in Chadron's case, it would be delightful.
For those who aren't from western Nebraska, let me describe Chadron. It's most (and only) noteworthy feature is Chadron State College. This is the College for kids who are too cornfed to get into Nebraska-Kearney. They spend there days drinking Keystone Light and getting shafted on "peyote" deals from Indians on the nearby Pine Ridge Reservation who they hipocritically mock for being a pack of drunks. The rest of the townspeople just don't have the class to measure up to the students. Burn motherfuckers, burn.

Dé Sathairn, Iúil 29, 2006

In Honor Of Americruise

I,m never been much of a car guy. In fact, I've never been partcularly moved by any kind of machine. But I was a boy once. And like all who were once boys, there is a list of cars that I decided I must have before I die.

1. Batmobile, (Any version)
2. Unwashed JFK deathmobile
3. Dre's 64 Impala
4. Sanford and Son Truck
5. Goblin-faced semi from Maximum Overdrive
6. KIT
7. Goblin-faced semi from Maximum Overdrive

Who made who bitch?

Dé hAoine, Iúil 28, 2006

There Is No Global Warming

Nope, nothing to see here people. I can prove that there is no global warming because, well, some people who believe in global warming think Americans are wasteful! Aren't you insulted, aren't you outraged? Why not? The invisible hand of God gave us our stuff through the Christian free market! Who does Barbra Streisand think she is, anyway? The French are pussies.

Dé Céadaoin, Iúil 26, 2006

Viva Jesus! Viva Chick!

Model Health Care

I went to the university health care center, they drew blood, they discovered I had a virus, and it's not Mono. Twenty dollars, sounds about right.

At any rate, this isn't LiveJournal, so let's see... Isn't it fucked up what the City Council did when they went all and fucked with that?

I'm going back to bed.

Dé Máirt, Iúil 25, 2006

Ah, parents

I have some sort of a virus. I found out today that I have a 100F fever. (The blood plasma clinic has several useful function). Anyway, my mother called today to see if I could get any inside deals on Nu football skag (no ma ,I can't). I told her about my illness. High fever, fatigue, low appitite. She was concerned, of course, especially by the exhaustion and low appitite (though these are almost certainly caused by the fever, and not independent symptoms of their own.) She seemed worried that I had West Nile .
What a shame. One of the most common fallicies we make is to assume that the bad ends we hear about the most are the ones most likely to get us. So we have another ciggarette and shot of whiskey to get over our fear of terrorists and child molestors. I know my mother means well, but she should know better than this.
In truth, I might very well have West Nile, but this means nothing by itself. West Nile is basically the same thing as the flu; a mild-to moderate disease that, for an unlucky few, can be life-threatening. Of course, there is no reason to assume that I am not one of the unlucky few. But, without trying to sound like a badass, so what? We all have to deal with the contradiction of functioning with society as if we're going to live forever, while dealing with the reality that we will not. (Got nothin to lose it's just me against the world)
But I suppose I should stop complaining. My mother has promised to pay for a doctor's examination, and there's no denying that this is a good idea. If they still prescribed opium for routine illness I would have scraped up the lose change myself by now. But I must spend my starvatio wages on chicken soup and Nyquil. I love ya ma.

Dé Luain, Iúil 24, 2006

Expect Chambers To Go Out With A Bang

The worst thing about term limits is how they produce amatuer partisan hacks. In Nebraska'a case, this would mean Republican hacks, and of course its completely different in California.

What this means in a practical sense is that the next 2 Unicam sessions will have a bunch of newbies trying to silence, or, even worse, out-reason Ernie Chambers. It's going to be a massacre. Ernihilation, Ernownage, Ernpocylypse. Those who voted for term limits just to get rid of Chambers are going to pay for it first. And don't think the people of North Omaha are going to vote for a conservative rancher with 38 grandchildren when they are forced to replace Ernie.

Disenfranchisement has its price. In the next two years, Nebraska will have its own bullshit thrown back at us like never before.

Dé Sathairn, Iúil 22, 2006

To The Guy leaving The Wedding At the Gov.s House

The one who said there was "some kind of gay and lesbian thing" at the Ne capital. The one who said "I don't think I'll be going to that" and then laughing the smug laugh of one who gets hard with pride in one's normality. You seem to misunderstand what homosexuality is andv what it is not. This is perfectly alright, we can't all be experts in anything. Might I suggest, however, that nothing cures ignorance like experience.

Friday Night Trivia: (Use It For Your drinking Games)

If one does a Google Instant Search for the word "hardcore", the first non-pornagraphic image is in the middle of page 3. Discuss the social implications of this among yourselves.

P.S. I have just returned from a party where some guy with a soul patch and a do-rag played "American Pie" on his acoustic guitar. I was worried that I might go through the whole summer without running into some asshole trying to get laid with "American Pie".

Dé hAoine, Iúil 21, 2006

To The Hon. Benjamin J. Nelson

Dear Sir:

Stop being a pussy. When I say stop being a pussy, you should realize the significance of this. You see, I hav nothing against moderates. We could use more nice, quiet, friendly folk like you. It should be a required trait for waitresses, drive-through workers, and prostitutes. I was not offended when you voted for tax cuts that the government can't afford. I have a bit of a libertarian streak, and the thought of the federal government choking to death on its own bullshit is quite pleasing to me. I was not horribly offended when you voted for the war. It was a different climate then. One did not point out that the WMD claims were obvious bullshit in polite discourse, and you're as polite as they come, arn't you? And ultimatelly, of course, I would sooner vote for you than Pete Rickets. (a.k.a. Republican cliche-bot 3000)

But now you're really starting to test my patience. You vote for the anti-gay marraige amendment and the anti- flag burning amendment, making you one of the few Democrats to acheive the non-existent problem solver double crown. You are also unique among Dems in your desire to uproot illegal immigrant families in order to save us from the Spanish language.

But now you've done something really stupid. You voted against using embryos for stem-cell research? Why? It can't be because of your beliefs, everybody knows you don't believe in anything. Was it for political gain? There was nothing to gain. You already have the Nebraska-right-to-life endorsement. This is an issue that divides even the pro-choice movement. Orin Hatch; the conservative Mormon who moonlights as a Christian lounge singer, can vote for the research and still be safe in Utah. Certainly you can do the same and not hurt yourself in Nebraska.

This research can cure diseases and save human lives. Not protozoans who happen to have human DNA, but actual human lives. The only people who are against this research are the hard-core right wingers. Those who hate their own and everybody else's filthy humanity. Those who hide their nihilism behind a facsist brand of Christianity. They know as well as the rest of us do that to not decide is to decide. "Human life", weather blastocysts or alzheimers victims, will end one way or another. But they want to leave it in "God's hands." Far better to die than to have one's life saved by filthy human reason. You will never win over these people. They will vote against you simply to maintain a Republican Senate. It is obvious even now that they could tip the election to Rickets; despite the fact that he is a human strawman version of a Republican. You are wasting your time, and you are contributing to human suffering in doing so.

In closing, you have five months before election day to do something, anything, that resembles courage. Otherwise I just might pull a Nader on your punkass and write in Ernie Chambers.

Mr. Heartland

Déardaoin, Iúil 20, 2006

Why didn't he pose with a bunch of test tubes?

Some hardcore zygote worshippers in Iowa did the same thing. They tried to get Bill Frist (who fancies himself a presidential contender, though no one else does.) to flip-flop back to their side on the stem-cell issue. So they put out a commercial full of smiling newborns to show us just what we would be destroying if we sefishly try to cure the diseases of the multi-cellular.

Why didn't they show pictures of blastocysts instead? After all, if these are the same as babies, than surely the sight of a microscopic ball of undifferentiated cells would have the same emotional impact.

Dé Céadaoin, Iúil 19, 2006

This Year At The Ne State Fair

Aug. 28th, Three Dog Night Bitch.
It was a small band, so presumebly there's at least two original members left. And it will certainly be better than the Styx show last year where they didn't even play Mr. Roboto and I had to stand through the whole thing to hear their only good song. (Renegade, Of course.)

I predict Green Day will play the Nebraska State Fair before the decade is out, and Billy Jo will still be wearing his "indie" tie at 45.

Dé Máirt, Iúil 18, 2006

Isreal vs. Rest of Middle East in a Nutshell

So what should we as Americans do? Some would suggest that we should avoid taking sides and join the rest of the world and telling the kids to knock it off and work out a deal. They must be crazy! Of course we should take Isreal's side! They dress like we do, and when they speak English it sounds vaguely like an American accent.

At any rate, they do our dirty work for us. It is not our official policy (actual practice is a different matter) to kill ten innocent civilians for the sake of taking out one terrorist. Our friends on the Mediterrainean have no such qualms. Sure, the current situation may complicate our own troubles in Iraq, but those our the breaks. When you get right down to it, Judaism is almost Christianity. Muslims, on the other hand, are accidental pagans.
Support Isreal, It's Almost America! :)

Dé Luain, Iúil 17, 2006

Real Men Have Broken Air Conditioners in July

Brett Meir; profoundly unfunny cartoonist for the Daily Nebraskan, used today's space to try to make us all feel guilty over worrying about the heat instead of feeling the pain of the Middle Easterners. First of all, let me just say that I am keeping up abrest with the war in Isreal/Lebanon. Second of all, fuck you Brett.
You see, my air conditioner broke around the third week of June. I have one of those plastic electric fans from the seventies trying to control the heat. A week ago, when Nebraska was unseasonably cool (in the 80's) the fan was enough. Now that the heat is breaking 100 and will continue to do so for the next week, not so much. My landlord would fix it, but I sort of owe him two hundred dollars.
So I'm functionally homeless from noon to nine p.m. This is the time of day when it's to hot to sit in my apartment naked. During this time I seek refuge in a nice cool library; which complicates my job search and prevents me from being able to pay my landlord. Wih luck, I'll be able to find a job before my student loan check comes at the end of summer, until than, I'm spending my days reading Joseph Conrad and eating ramon noodles. When one s among the less fortunate, it is o.k. to worry more about oneself than other unfortunates.
Fuck you Brett

Dé Domhnaigh, Iúil 16, 2006

We Have Assumed Control

We have assumed control, we have assumed control, we have assumed control, we have assumed control

Dé Sathairn, Iúil 15, 2006

Public Schools are Just As Good As Private Schools/Ignore The Man Behind The Curtain

The Education released a Study yesterday that revealed that students in public schools perform almost as well as students in private schools. In fact, public school eighth graders do better in math than their peers at "very conservative Christian Schools" (This is just funny) What did you expect? All the class time reserved for loving Jesus can't help but distract from the three Rs.

There is a reason that the report was released on a Friday. Only nerds such as myself read the Saturday papers. The Bush administration was loathe to release any information that doesn't justify school vouchers. (Welfare to private enterprise for the purpose of indoctrination.)

Joseph McTighe, a lobbyist for a private school "umbrella group" gave the following reply."In the real world, private school kids outperform public school kids. That's the real world, that's the way things actually are."

Yes, that's right, public stereotypes are a better reflection of reality than official statistics. How's that for populism? Of course, Mc'Tighe might have some numbers of his own to back his figures up. After all, private school kids are more likely to come from rich families. Therefore they are more likely to have personal connections with prospective employers. But the world is a big place, and different classes of society experience different real worlds, don't they?

Dé hAoine, Iúil 14, 2006

A Brief history of Tag: Chapter 3, The Alpha and Omega

It came to pass that what we know as "Western Civilization" was, in fact, tag. We built Greece,we built Rome, we invented the question mark. Homer? Virgil? Plato? If you are wise enough to be reading this , then surely you know better then to believe in things that you have not seen for yourself. Haven't you ever thought it funny that these supposed persons wrote quite a bit about fearless supermen, who one either had the wisdom to follow or the temerity to resist? (Only to be horribly punished by "gods") Surely you also know better then to believe that there ever was a time more magical and mystical than our own. So why are there no semi-gods and supermen reigning over us now? Therefore ask yourself, what is the purpose of all these fairy tales?
Needless to say, there never was a Plato, or a Virgil. None of the pedophiles who supposidly invented western civilization ever was. There was only our ministry of propaganda, which was already operating at a far more sophisticated level than the "Third Reich" could ever dream of. These tales of supermen did much to control the rabble. Why should they not obey "their" king when he was descended from Hercules? The myth of the natural-born superhuman leader has been indispensible to us. Our Alexander could never have conqured Persia, nor could our Claudius have conqured Britain, without it. With some modifications, the myth continues to serve us to this day.
Of course, there were exceptions. Athens really was a democracy, within reasonable limits. Why would we allow such a thing, you ask? Don't be a fool, we were Athens. Athens was created in order to provide ourselves with a place where our perversions would be acceptible. This is the same reason why we created the Southeast Asian sex trade. There really was a Socrates, and we really did eliminate him. Of course, his death was not nearly as merciful as what is written in our history books. His execution actually lasted for seven months. We will not discuss the details.

Then there was the fellow who called himself Christ. He was nothing. A peasant. An unimportant man from an unimportant corner of our empire. but he was clever. He somehow managed to see through our illusions and realize the true reality. He could of joined us. We are always on the lookout for bright young talent. But alas; he was an idealist. He believed in "freedom". He thought he could stop us. He once actually said that gaining the world was not worth losing one's soul over. We cannot allow this sort of psychosis to spread to the rabble.
The record of his death is more or less accurate. We decided to torture him to death over a single 24 hour period. We had too much respect for the man to subject him to our normal procedures.

Déardaoin, Iúil 13, 2006

Fuck you! I fucked your Dad up the ass in prison.

With the aid of deaf Italian lip readers, it seems that Materazzi goaded Zidane into his headbutt by calling him a "son of a terrorist whore." That's what the Euro press says anyway, and it really doesn't matter now whether that was what was actually said or not. When people want answers, they don't really care if they get accurate answers or not. It should be said that Materazzi''s defense was quite damning. He claimed not to know what the word terrorist meant. Yeah.

And what, exactly, is a terrorist whore? Sounds like something one would find in a nihilistic French action movie. She'll suck your dick and blow up a hospital at the same time. You and her will go on a massive absinthe-fueled killing spree until her old abusive boyfriend convinces her to come back, or so he thinks. She ends up killing both of you by shotgun blasts to the brain in front of thousands on Bastile Day. She keeps all the money for herself. A brief epilogue describes how she dies of an "accidental" skag overdose in Lhasa five years later.

Dé Máirt, Iúil 11, 2006

RIP Syd Barrett

I had a high school obssesion with Pink Floyd, so this is sad news. Of course, it is highly unlikely that he noticed his own death. Don't eat acid for breakfast kids.

There's a little bit of Barett in Blur, Smashing Pumpkins, Travis, Badly Drawn Boy.... etc. All of these bands were arguibly more influenced by Barett's style than post-Syd Pink Floyd. The group's 1968-73 evolution from "psychedelic"band to composers of grand rock operas is very interesting. Check out 'Saucerful of Secrets" and "Meddle"

As for their work with Syd, "Piper at the Gates of Dawn" will restore your faith in hippies.

Dé Luain, Iúil 10, 2006

Dave Hergert is a Martyr for the better half

I am pleasently surprised. this is the first intelligent decision made by any branch of the Nebraska state government in, shit, 15, 20, 50 years? the only ones who are still defending Hergert are his relatives, employees, and neighbors. This is somewhat understandible. Living in a small community does encourage an us vs. them view of the world, where all problems are caused by outsiders.
And they do make respectible points. Why should Hergert get the hammer brought down on him? He was just another politician, no more crooked than the rest, and at least he was one of ours.
It is true that everyone on the NU Board of Regents except Chuck Hassebrook is an aristocratic crook living with delusions of being Governor or Senator crook. They barely conceal their belief that the people's university should be reserved for the sons of the elite. (Expect no mercy when they discuss tuition again) Any moral advantage the rest of the board has over Hergert is nominal.
which is not to say that there is no difference. The big problem with Hergert was his utter lack of shame. He seemed to follow Tom DeLay logic. " I'm Christian, I'm important, I'm not gay, and I have proven my superiority on the sacred battlefield of the free market. Therefore I can do whatever the hell I want. I am incapible of corruption. Only whiney losers would suggest otherwise."
The fact that Hergert got his just deserts does not solve the larger problem. Rural America is full of people who are simple, humble, and unfailingly obedient to authority and tradition. They are baffled and frightened by the perfectly natural cultural fragmentation that comes with democratic empire. These are the people that "conservatives" have seduced in their rise to power. And how is the loyalty of rural America being rewarded? With naked political patronage, union busting slave labor, and corporate feudalism. those of us who want to change this face the frustration of a counseler; begging an abused wife to leave the bastard

Dé Domhnaigh, Iúil 09, 2006

World Cup Wrapup

First off, I'm disapointed that Germany didn't win. I was planning on doing an Al Micheals/Big Lebowski mashup (Do you believe in nuzing? YES!) And what the fuck was up with Zidane? The man has always been considered a class act. Why should he be less able to keep his head at 34 than 22? He's supposed to be a leader for God's sake. If you're going to do something stupid, it least cheat shamelessly like Maradona.
That said, it's hard to say that Zidane's ejection cost France the game. You need to stop at least one shot to win on P.Ks. And Barthez never looked remotely capable of doing so. In 98, he always was just good enough. This year, he was nothing but a coach for a backline that was protecting him. Once the game was in his hands...
I do think that the better team won. Italy knocked out the hosts, after all, and they were long overdue to win both a shootout and a major tournament. Most of all, the disallowed goal in the 65th minute was an absolute bullshit call. Everyone in Italy gets laid tonight, but only because it's Sunday.

Dé Sathairn, Iúil 08, 2006

Tales from North Platte

Living in a small town requires a nihilistic, beast-like mindset. There is no change, no culture, and nothing we would recognize as decency. Nobody and nothing ever changes. Everyone you know will be the same at 35 as they were at 18. The only notable difference being 2--6 semi-legitimate children.
This becomes clear to me every time I return to North Platte. It became especially clear at my cousin's "bachlor party". It was at the worst dive in town. I was reduced to drinking Bud Light rather quickly, though only to avoid being awkward and only after I learned the the best beer on tap was Michillob. Mu relations regaled each other with the same drug stories that they had been telling since they started telling drug stories. My attempts to relate to them were utter failures. They didn't know who Sleater-Kinney were. They didn't know who Ween (c'mon, fucking WeeN) were. I lost miserably at pool since I was embracing the void too much to make any real effort. Pour more urine down my throat and tell me how you want a Jesse James custom bike again.
We ended up at a in-law/drug dealer's house. I had been there many times before and smoked out of some custom made bong or another there many times before. This time was the same. Dealer's kid is ten now, and more obviously insane than ever. The child was still awake at midnight with no sign of exhaustion. He's going to have a hard time adjusting to juvie hall hours.
the wedding was held in the courthouse. It was incidental. My mother cried as is her wont. I thought about telling her that whether the couple would be happy or not 20 years from now was a matter of pure chance, and the wedding was unlikely to matter as far as this goes. But it would have been rude to bring this up just then. People who have nothing else need tradition.

Dé Céadaoin, Iúil 05, 2006

Tales From North Platte

Henry Hill

Not Henry Hill

Surely you've heard of this man. He's Henry, from Goodfellas. You know, the smooth one, the cool one. You surely also know that "Goodfellas" is based on Hills autobiography. He really was a gangster, and he really was a rat. He really was faced with the choice of either turning states evidence or facing the punishment he deserved for being an unreliable coke monkey. Well , the story doesn't end there. In fact, it probably ends in my hometown.

First of all, it must be said that Martin Scorsese could make a tapeworm look like the baddest mofo who has ever lived. Indeed, this is exactly what he has done.

Hill had been living in the open for a few years when he came to North Platte in 2004. All of his victims were either dead from old age or had killed each other long ago. In the past, their successors would have carried on the vendetta against rats. But the mob ain't what it used to be. So Henry Hill came to town as Henry Hill, very willing to let us know that he was Henry Hill. There was a new hotel opening up by the interstate. It was going to be a fairly upscale place, and they were thinking of opening an Italian restauraunt. Hill, of course, is an accomplished cook.
If you have visions of Hill breaking out in a cold sweat in his kitchen, thinking about how he has to unload the guns on his Philiadelphia connections, bringing his brother home from the hospital and what to do about the helicoptor tailing him while George Harrison blares in the background please stop. This is what Hill wants you to do. You have no idea what kind of whore this man is. We were starstruck, of course, and the man did make good food. The bar at this hotel was pretty decent too. It seemed that Hill had found a nice place to live out his days.

But there were incidents. There was a D.U.I. where his b.a.c. was something over .3. There were "domestic incidents" with his new wife. And, of course, there was the coke. Yes, that's right kids, he still has the same habit that landed everybody but himself in jail. He was caught at the town airport with both coke and meth. He got along well with the locals. I wish this was the end, but...

Hill has become a semi-regular on the Howard Stern show. Stern is apparantly enthralled by the story of an inept criminal taking a small town by storm. Who wouldn't be? One day Hill claimed that two men had drugged him at a North Platte bar, took him to the woods and raped him. There are reasons to doubt this story. For one, give us some fucking credit, this isn't Arkansas. For another thing, there is a video that Hill is trying to make money off of.

The restaurant is in some trouble now, with its chef routingly going to jail. The bar actually became a hot spot in the time since I moved to Lincoln. My friend Rick was running the place, and this band of people I used to know played there last October. But alas, the manager of the hotel started to micromanage Rick's affairs. She changed the beer orders so that there would be an equal number of Heiniken and Bud Light, and demanded that the place get less "rowdy." Rick quit, and the bar closed down 2 months ago due to no profits.

As for Henry, he got out of jail last month. Other then that, who the hell cares? If you want some decent marinara sauce, wisit "Sundaygravy.net"

Dé Máirt, Iúil 04, 2006

All Joking Aside

for you and me children, for you and me.

Happy Independence Day

This is the day where we reflect on the true essence of America: hating and conquering our enemies. Be sure to celebrate the holiday in a manner that will terrify the Barboroi. Do not apply any cutting agents to your hard liquor. If you can not afford explosives, then the only acceptible replacement would be to flagilate yourself as a show of loyalty to Ceaser. Do not eat any-non carnivorous foods. No vegetables shall touch our lips until we can garnish them in the blood of our enemies.

Dé Luain, Iúil 03, 2006


NASA is planning on sending Discovery into orbit tommarow, despite a crack in the insulation on the ship's motherfucking fuel tank! Fucking brilliant motherfuckers! Is this some sort of secret communist plan to ruin Independence Day forever? Expect a hell of a fireworks show in central Florida tomarrow.

(And The bodies red glare....)

Dé Domhnaigh, Iúil 02, 2006

Ninety pound cancer Girl pwnes every last one of us


Some see Lance Armstrong as the paragon of survival and determination. Fuck Lance Armstrong. Why should he get more respect than any other "man" who shaves his entire body and wears bright yellow in public? The true measures of strength are drinking and spontaneous public lesbianism.
These are the qualities that Allison Uberfrau has in spades. She is a two time cancer survivor, thanks to a new form of chemotherapy in which she drank her tumors to death. There really is no way to describe this level of badasisity unless one has seen it for oneself. Nonetheless, I will try to give you a basic rundown.
  • There were several occasions in which she had a beer in one hand and a bottle of my vodka in the other
  • There was one variation of this where she had a motherfucking 40 oz in one hand and the vodka in the other
  • After six hours, she finally started showing vague hints of weakness, and I told her she could have one more drink before I put the vodka on ice. She drained a full third of the bottle.
Oh yes, and the dyke-out,She and homeboysexwhatshername.

This was no sports bar wet t-shirt contest smootch and giggle. I honestly thought they were going to orgasm with all of their clothes still on. Panting, light moans, stratigic groping of the upper thigh and crotch, good show. Unfortunately, Allison finally sucumbed to her own body weight in liquor, and was unable to consummate the encounter. If they had finished their game, I would never be able to look upon another human face and see anything but a pathetic weakling. I would be unable to write without the image reminding me of the inadequacy of my so-called creation. All existence would be pointless, like Toby Keith walking onstage after Hendrix burned his guitar at Monterey. But I can find solice in the fact that I can at least conceive of being that bad-ass. You on the other hand, never mind.