I can't afford champagne, so the next best thing is to immaturely offend anyone who comes accross my site. Take this Google Adsense.
Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 15, 2006
100th post Blowout
I can't afford champagne, so the next best thing is to immaturely offend anyone who comes accross my site. Take this Google Adsense.
Dé Luain, Lúnasa 14, 2006
Concert Review
How to Describe the electronic phase for "Of Montreal"? As showcased Friday night at Knickerbockers? I could go for cheap one liners; The Beatles and Bowie go on a seven day laughing gas binge toghether and decide to make an album. Woodstock Disco (Or better yet, "Frisco Disco LOL)
Their sound is centered on the most melting-plastic-perfect synth lines that have been heard since sampling technology allowed artists of the lazy ass P Diddy/Playstation generation to rip off Bernie Worrel for their next club banger. Add to this a Eurotrash circus stage show that perfectly compliments the music. The wordplay in the lyrics is complex while still catchy, mystical and intelligent without being unintentionally funny. The energy of the show... damn...and also... damn.
The only way it could be better is if the band was playing at my personal compound where I could eat X and service my slave girls at my leisure. Simply put, Of Montreal is the band for anyone who enjoys splitting rails of coke with one's pet giraffe and "manservant" (And isn't this everybody?)
I've heard a nasty rumour that Barnes and the gang our moving away from their dance music phase and back to a more "personal" sound. There is a good chance that this could be good as well. I certainly hope it isn't code for stereotypical indie mumbling and guitar fuzz. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it would be a devolution for these guys.) Whatever comes in the future, I'm going to sorely miss the sound of a thousand patchouli scented robot bees swarming through my head, and I'm glad I got to experience the feeling live while I still had the chance.
Their sound is centered on the most melting-plastic-perfect synth lines that have been heard since sampling technology allowed artists of the lazy ass P Diddy/Playstation generation to rip off Bernie Worrel for their next club banger. Add to this a Eurotrash circus stage show that perfectly compliments the music. The wordplay in the lyrics is complex while still catchy, mystical and intelligent without being unintentionally funny. The energy of the show... damn...and also... damn.
The only way it could be better is if the band was playing at my personal compound where I could eat X and service my slave girls at my leisure. Simply put, Of Montreal is the band for anyone who enjoys splitting rails of coke with one's pet giraffe and "manservant" (And isn't this everybody?)
I've heard a nasty rumour that Barnes and the gang our moving away from their dance music phase and back to a more "personal" sound. There is a good chance that this could be good as well. I certainly hope it isn't code for stereotypical indie mumbling and guitar fuzz. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it would be a devolution for these guys.) Whatever comes in the future, I'm going to sorely miss the sound of a thousand patchouli scented robot bees swarming through my head, and I'm glad I got to experience the feeling live while I still had the chance.
Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 12, 2006
This May or May Not Be The Post Where I Get to the Point About Ward Churchill
As a nerd, I usually preread some of the material for the upcoming semester. I'm taking a Native American Lit class this fall, and decided to skim through what looked like the densest required book in the class. This would be "The State of Native America" published by Colorado-Boulder in 1992. The book includes several contributions from, you already know.
Churchill is every bit as radical the "Little Eichmann's" crack would lead you to believe. He and other contributers frequently and unabashedly call on the U.S. to return native land to the point that it returns itself out of existence. Churchill, always in a bone-dry academic tone' calls for the United States to be replaced by something "infinitely better" and name drops Castro and the Sandinistas as examples of how revolutions can overcome long odds. Another writer, John Mohawk, says that white Americans never feel quite at home. Since America is nothing but a breakaway colony that turned into an empire, he reasons, the U.S. is completely illigitimate, existing as "nothing but a government". ( His implication that true nationhood is based on blood and soil is usually considered very right-wing.)
As I have no soul, I am offended by nothing. So I'm not bothered by either the "Eichmann's" crack or the suggestion that the U.S. be replaced by something "infinitely better" I have also heard that Churchill is lying about his claim to native ancestry. Well, that would be a trifling thing, really, there are worse moral failings than that. Though I would suggest that this is 2006, and a man dosn't need elaborate excuses to wear his hair long in middle age. One thing that did piss me off was the fact that Churchill footnotes himself at least twenty times. Who the hell does that, honestly? (Eating boiled plague rats will make men grow a second penis out of the right nipple. See "Beran: Little known Facts About Mammals; Heartland Press)
In all seriousness though, the political "left" can be divided into two camps, liberal reformers and radical destroyers. Churchill is clearly a member of the later.(Again and again "The State of Native America" attacks the center-left for having the audacity to focus on poverty and woman's rights instead of advocating violent native land seizure) The problem is that he just isn't a very good radical. Radicals do have their place. Churchill could have used his talent for saying outrageous things and made himself into a (maybe) half-indian George Carlin. But he wanted to be an intellectual, what a shame. There have been lots of intellectuals, only a tiny elite of them have any impact on society. Goethe never footnoted himself.
As a member of the "liberal reformer" camp, (However caustic I may be at times) I have never bought into the narrative of all-american children being corrupted by radical professors. In fact, I consider this narritive to be dangerously anti-democratic and anti- free thought. And I don't have much patience for cheap conservative cracks about "The People's republic of Boulder/Berkeley/Madison, etc. Boulder is a fine town, so long as you get out before the jocks start hitting the Coors. Having said that, it does seem as if Churchill had created a little fiefdom for himself in the U.C. Boulder Native Studies department. Surrounded by like-minded associates; who spent their time playing playgound games of deriding the center-left and daring each other to say something more radical than the other. The fact that this has finally gotten Churchill into some trouble shouldn't be the least bit surprising.
(This has been Mr. Heartland's token appeal to the center for 2006. Be sure to come back tomorrow when I angrly demand the legalization of cocaine and accuse Pete Rickitts of raping his slaves, thank you and good night.)
Churchill is every bit as radical the "Little Eichmann's" crack would lead you to believe. He and other contributers frequently and unabashedly call on the U.S. to return native land to the point that it returns itself out of existence. Churchill, always in a bone-dry academic tone' calls for the United States to be replaced by something "infinitely better" and name drops Castro and the Sandinistas as examples of how revolutions can overcome long odds. Another writer, John Mohawk, says that white Americans never feel quite at home. Since America is nothing but a breakaway colony that turned into an empire, he reasons, the U.S. is completely illigitimate, existing as "nothing but a government". ( His implication that true nationhood is based on blood and soil is usually considered very right-wing.)
As I have no soul, I am offended by nothing. So I'm not bothered by either the "Eichmann's" crack or the suggestion that the U.S. be replaced by something "infinitely better" I have also heard that Churchill is lying about his claim to native ancestry. Well, that would be a trifling thing, really, there are worse moral failings than that. Though I would suggest that this is 2006, and a man dosn't need elaborate excuses to wear his hair long in middle age. One thing that did piss me off was the fact that Churchill footnotes himself at least twenty times. Who the hell does that, honestly? (Eating boiled plague rats will make men grow a second penis out of the right nipple. See "Beran: Little known Facts About Mammals; Heartland Press)
In all seriousness though, the political "left" can be divided into two camps, liberal reformers and radical destroyers. Churchill is clearly a member of the later.(Again and again "The State of Native America" attacks the center-left for having the audacity to focus on poverty and woman's rights instead of advocating violent native land seizure) The problem is that he just isn't a very good radical. Radicals do have their place. Churchill could have used his talent for saying outrageous things and made himself into a (maybe) half-indian George Carlin. But he wanted to be an intellectual, what a shame. There have been lots of intellectuals, only a tiny elite of them have any impact on society. Goethe never footnoted himself.
As a member of the "liberal reformer" camp, (However caustic I may be at times) I have never bought into the narrative of all-american children being corrupted by radical professors. In fact, I consider this narritive to be dangerously anti-democratic and anti- free thought. And I don't have much patience for cheap conservative cracks about "The People's republic of Boulder/Berkeley/Madison, etc. Boulder is a fine town, so long as you get out before the jocks start hitting the Coors. Having said that, it does seem as if Churchill had created a little fiefdom for himself in the U.C. Boulder Native Studies department. Surrounded by like-minded associates; who spent their time playing playgound games of deriding the center-left and daring each other to say something more radical than the other. The fact that this has finally gotten Churchill into some trouble shouldn't be the least bit surprising.
(This has been Mr. Heartland's token appeal to the center for 2006. Be sure to come back tomorrow when I angrly demand the legalization of cocaine and accuse Pete Rickitts of raping his slaves, thank you and good night.)
Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 11, 2006
Ward Churchill is after your girlfriend
A while ago I had a dream where I was attending a get-together at a good friends house back in North Platte. Ward Churchill was there. I saw no reason why not; I associate myself with the beautiful people. There was a train wreck along the tracks accross the street. In the real world, my friend lives half a mile from the railroad. Never mind. The men in the house organized ourselves into a rescue party. Mr. Churchill did not come.
As I recall, none of the victims were dead. As a matter of fact, no one was seriously wounded . They just needed us to move debris out of the way so that they could walk out themselves and go about their business. The rescue mission took most of the day; but this was only because we would take long and frequent coffee breaks back at the house; an hour at the wreck, an hour back in the dining room with our Folgers and Camels, that's how it went. Keep in mind, we wern't leaving anybody to bleed to death. All the victims were perfectly fine, just stuck is all. You should try moving twisted metal sometime and see how ling you can last without needing a break.
Anyhow, it came to my attention that Ward Churchill was spending all of this time hitting on various women in the house. I thought nothing of it, he's a man just like the rest of us. Later still, however, I noticed that he was only hitting on other mens wives and girlfriends, while ignoring all the single girls. This was simply low down. It was bad enough that he wasn't helping us free the mildly inconvenienced train wreck victims. He had to go and steal all of our women while we were out. Quite deliberately mind you. He was intentionally ignoring the single women just to show his contempt for polite society, and I know for a fact that he stole at least three of my cigarettes.
I am not a mystical person by any means. I am a heartless journalism major in a godless university. Normally, I would tell you with perfect conviction that the human brain has only two talents; logic and empirical knowledge. There is no common sense, there is no intuition, there is no revelation, there is no third eye. Normally I would say this. But I woke up that morning without the slightest doubt that I had met the real Ward Churchill. I've never really met him, of course. But if you ask me what he's like; I could tell you with upmost certainty that he is a total bastard who will steal your woman and your cigarettes.
(Stay tuned for a slightly more relevant and coherent take on Churchill tomarrow)
As I recall, none of the victims were dead. As a matter of fact, no one was seriously wounded . They just needed us to move debris out of the way so that they could walk out themselves and go about their business. The rescue mission took most of the day; but this was only because we would take long and frequent coffee breaks back at the house; an hour at the wreck, an hour back in the dining room with our Folgers and Camels, that's how it went. Keep in mind, we wern't leaving anybody to bleed to death. All the victims were perfectly fine, just stuck is all. You should try moving twisted metal sometime and see how ling you can last without needing a break.
Anyhow, it came to my attention that Ward Churchill was spending all of this time hitting on various women in the house. I thought nothing of it, he's a man just like the rest of us. Later still, however, I noticed that he was only hitting on other mens wives and girlfriends, while ignoring all the single girls. This was simply low down. It was bad enough that he wasn't helping us free the mildly inconvenienced train wreck victims. He had to go and steal all of our women while we were out. Quite deliberately mind you. He was intentionally ignoring the single women just to show his contempt for polite society, and I know for a fact that he stole at least three of my cigarettes.
I am not a mystical person by any means. I am a heartless journalism major in a godless university. Normally, I would tell you with perfect conviction that the human brain has only two talents; logic and empirical knowledge. There is no common sense, there is no intuition, there is no revelation, there is no third eye. Normally I would say this. But I woke up that morning without the slightest doubt that I had met the real Ward Churchill. I've never really met him, of course. But if you ask me what he's like; I could tell you with upmost certainty that he is a total bastard who will steal your woman and your cigarettes.
(Stay tuned for a slightly more relevant and coherent take on Churchill tomarrow)
Dé Céadaoin, Lúnasa 09, 2006
NU Hires New Basketball Coach
Praise be to him that realizes that existence is doom and offers himself to our horrible lord to be eaten first.
Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 08, 2006
Whatever You Say Chief
"You know, I hear people say, Civil War this, Civil War that." "The Iraqi people decided against Civil War when they went to the ballot box."
President Bush
Dé Luain, Lúnasa 07, 2006
The Beatles, Prog Rock And America
There has been some talk lately of the 40th anniversary of "Revolver". This is a masterpiece, by the way, and is almost universally recognized as such, almost. There are those who say that is only the Beatles hadn't gone all freaky with "Revolver" and "Sgt. Pepper" than rock music would have never been infected with pretension, and the world would never have had to suffer through Man O' War's 35 minute heavy metal version of the Illiad. This is simply unfair.
True, The Beatles had their place in the development of Prog-Rock, but they are not wholly responsible for, and certainly not guilty of, its worst excesses. Don't forget about the Who. (A Quick One While He's Away, Tommy) and don't forget about the power of culture.
Notice how most of the earliest art-rock bands (Yes, Emerson-Lake-and Palmer, Pink Floyd) were British. British children experience a more "classical" education than Americans do, complete with Mozart, Verdi, and Beethoven. Any Englishman who picks up an instrument feels more pressure to make "serious" music than a Yankee does. This also somewhat applies to Canada (Rush) which has always been; culturally and politically, more loyal to daddy than the U.S.
Keep in mind that Rock'nRoll is our music, descended from our own blue-collar folk music traditions. It's funny how we are more conservative than our old European oppressors about so many things, yet populist to the point of anarchist when it comes to art and culture. The idea that an artist should try as hard as he/she can to show how much he/she is just like everyone else is uniquely American. From this perspective than, European prog-rock acted as a sort of nationalism. An attempt by alums of the Queen's art shools to seperate themselves from American crudity.
One should also avoid the reverse snobbery of dismissing all art-rock out of hand. Proggers who covered traditional anti-authoritarian rock themes (Pink Floyd) made some truly great music. For the best proof that brainy rock music has its place, look no further than post-punk. Punk music was supposed to clense rock music of the 15 minute drug songs of the 70's, and this was necessary to a point. Yet as soon as Punk gained a place in society; we had Television and the Talking Heads, getting all artsy and smart-ass on us.
The populist ethos of rock can reach a point where it itself becomes oppressive. We all love to brag. Some people like to brag about how often they get laid, or how poor they are. Others like to brag about how smart they are, or how far they can drag out a gutar riff. It's the same thing. We can emphesize the blue-collar roots of rock music all we want. We can launch as many reform movements and purges against heretical nerds that we want. But the fact is that Rock is music, and therefore it is art; and any form of art will always attract people who want to show off their brains. Just think how much poorer the world would be if "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" was the most ambitious thing rock'n roll had ever done.
True, The Beatles had their place in the development of Prog-Rock, but they are not wholly responsible for, and certainly not guilty of, its worst excesses. Don't forget about the Who. (A Quick One While He's Away, Tommy) and don't forget about the power of culture.
Notice how most of the earliest art-rock bands (Yes, Emerson-Lake-and Palmer, Pink Floyd) were British. British children experience a more "classical" education than Americans do, complete with Mozart, Verdi, and Beethoven. Any Englishman who picks up an instrument feels more pressure to make "serious" music than a Yankee does. This also somewhat applies to Canada (Rush) which has always been; culturally and politically, more loyal to daddy than the U.S.
Keep in mind that Rock'nRoll is our music, descended from our own blue-collar folk music traditions. It's funny how we are more conservative than our old European oppressors about so many things, yet populist to the point of anarchist when it comes to art and culture. The idea that an artist should try as hard as he/she can to show how much he/she is just like everyone else is uniquely American. From this perspective than, European prog-rock acted as a sort of nationalism. An attempt by alums of the Queen's art shools to seperate themselves from American crudity.
One should also avoid the reverse snobbery of dismissing all art-rock out of hand. Proggers who covered traditional anti-authoritarian rock themes (Pink Floyd) made some truly great music. For the best proof that brainy rock music has its place, look no further than post-punk. Punk music was supposed to clense rock music of the 15 minute drug songs of the 70's, and this was necessary to a point. Yet as soon as Punk gained a place in society; we had Television and the Talking Heads, getting all artsy and smart-ass on us.
The populist ethos of rock can reach a point where it itself becomes oppressive. We all love to brag. Some people like to brag about how often they get laid, or how poor they are. Others like to brag about how smart they are, or how far they can drag out a gutar riff. It's the same thing. We can emphesize the blue-collar roots of rock music all we want. We can launch as many reform movements and purges against heretical nerds that we want. But the fact is that Rock is music, and therefore it is art; and any form of art will always attract people who want to show off their brains. Just think how much poorer the world would be if "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" was the most ambitious thing rock'n roll had ever done.
Dé Domhnaigh, Lúnasa 06, 2006
Sundays are rather boring, don't you agree?
This is what happens when you do a google instant search for "fat girl". Not "Fat girl Porn" or "Hot fat girls want too fuck you now" just fat girl. She's not even that fat.
10/28/2006: Qwest Center Omaha
Wyld fucking Stallions bitches. The show is, of course, sold out. But if you should happen to want some tickets, (You know you do) send fifty dollars to me, Mr. Heartland. I'm not going to give out my address over the internet, but I have "people" you can contact. If you don't know who "they" are; well, you're just lame. You would only get yourself killed at a Stallions concert anyway.
Party on motherfuckers.
Dé Sathairn, Lúnasa 05, 2006
Robert Phares appointed To Hergert's Nu Regents Seat Seat.
I'm from North Platte, so I suppose I should know something about the former mayor. But no, I've got nothing off the top of my head. He's rich, and he runs an insurance agency from somewhere in downtown Flatrock (I'm thinking 4th and Vine, don't quote me). I should mention that North Platte is culturally much more modest and midwestern than the cowboys in the panhandle. So just in case Phares is crooked (he seems far too boring for that, but you never know.) don't expect him to try to brag, bluster, and bullshit his way out of trouble like Hergert did.
Phares has promised to tow the governor's line on stem-cell research. With any luck, we can soon catch up too southern states in our commitment to protect undiffrentiated zygotes. At least Heineman didn't pick Kathy Wilmot. This would be the woman who is such a theocratic nutcase that she was voted off the state board of education by the solidly Republican voters of western
Nebraska.
Phares has promised to tow the governor's line on stem-cell research. With any luck, we can soon catch up too southern states in our commitment to protect undiffrentiated zygotes. At least Heineman didn't pick Kathy Wilmot. This would be the woman who is such a theocratic nutcase that she was voted off the state board of education by the solidly Republican voters of western
Nebraska.
Dé hAoine, Lúnasa 04, 2006
We must stand with Isreal unconditionally in her war against the barbarian
Guess which side did this. (Hint, it wasn't terrorists. How could it be? If muslims didn't do it, than it coudn't possibly be terrorist.)
Let's Kill Castro Now
Sure, our current "wait for him to die" strategy makes far more sense than the unbelievibly stupid assassination plots that were being thought up in the sixties. But just think about how funny it would be. You just know there's some old soldier in the CIA who still thinks his arsenic-laced cigar brought to Fidel by a Miami exile disguised as a cross-eyed belly dancer with an attitude plan could still work. Let's make the old codger happy. If nothing else, let's do it for old Lee Oswald. While our own spies were thinking up needlessly elaborate plots to dispose of invincible supermen, Oswald realized that world leaders die just as easily as the rest of us. We spend millions of tax dollars, he doesn't even need a lunch break. So let's steal some of his thunder by dusting off one of those Rube Goldberg plots and making it work. Let's bring back the can-do spirit of early 60's America, let's kill Castro before he dies.
Dé Máirt, Lúnasa 01, 2006
What would make me happy in my old age
I just watched a spot of "The Upside of Anger". It's a total chick flick, but if one learns to see amusing depravities between the lines as I have, it is well worth the time. Joan Allan plays a jaded, drunken bourgeois middle-aged devorcee who is mother of four teenage daughters. This is the sort of woman I'm going to marry. I refuse to settle for anything less. Kevin Costner plays the knight in shining armor, pursuing Allan and matching her drink for drink. It is quite clear that he is really after the underage girls. Who wouldn't be? I don't think I'm being out of line when I say that all men fantasize about being the abusive step-father. I know it's wrong. So very, very, filthy and wrong, but I guess some of us are a little more liberated. Lovely daughter you have there Maam, need help with your groceries?
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.
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?
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
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.
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.
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.
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