Burn Santa burn!

It is apparently, no holds barred, in the fight against global warming. A concerned group by the name of "Save Santa", have decided that a good way to get the message across is to dress up lake Santa and tell people about the impending doom of his home at the North Pole. Personally I feel that the threat of global warming from CO2 emissions is just slightly less far fetched than the existence of old Saint Nick but I am no expert, I will leave that decision to the rarely bribable and wholly infallible scientific community. That was sarcasm by the way. Scientists are becoming as bad as lawyers, spinning information this way and that, in order to come up with, what they call proof. Add a scare tactic like Santa Clause having to lash the corpses of his elves together in order to survive when his home sinks and you have a good base of propaganda that will keep people scared and your coffers full, well into the next century. I was never a believer in Santa, even as a child I looked down on kids who believed in the bewitching, burly, butterball. I could not understand how they could put so much stock in him, yet not heed my warnings about werewolves, which, I might add, there is more evidence of through out history than either Santa or man made global warming. Yet, it seems wrong to terrorize children, even stupid children, with stories about the end of Father X-mas. They will show the kids "facts" to scare them and horrifying video to drive the fear deep into their soft psyches so the image never leaves them. I am so sick of that video where the chunk of ice falls into the ocean. You see it on the news and the commentator acts like it is the first time in Earths history that a glacier melted. Then you get that video about the Polar Bears and their plight. How the receding ice caps are shrinking their habitat and soon the will be extinct. Well, as pretty as Polar Bears might be, they are unfortunate to be dealing with a life cycle that is unavoidable, extinction. There are more extinct species of animals by far, than ones currently sharing the globe with us. Look at the extinct species record of the rain forests. They loose a species a day world wide, that seems kinda messed up. It's mostly bugs and plants that no one has ever heard of but those bugs and plants are probably more important to the ecosystem than any damned bear. The animals, the humans and Santa Clause all share one common problem, if you can't adapt, you are gonna die! That is it, plain and simple. The natural cycle of the planet is to warm up and cool off, it has been doing it for millions of years, of which we are but a blip on the time line. So don't worry too much about global warming because, in another thousand years, when our species is long gone, it will all go back to normal.

As a final note, many researchers have said that methane emissions from cattle farms do more damage to the environment than all the industrial exhaust. So next time you see a dirty tree huger munching on a tofu burger, maybe you should explain to him just how much he is hurting the planet by not eating meat. Keep it green bitches.

A public service notice.

A couple of weeks ago in Florida, two armed men entered a casino and robbed on of the cashiers. One man was caught before he could leave but the other actually fled the scene and tried to hide from casino security and the police. Part of his escape plan involved swimming across a pond behind the casino and then possibly, hide in the woods on the other side. I say possibly because the man was attacked by a ten foot long alligator, taken into a muddy patch and partially eaten. The alligator was put down, which I think is kinda wrong. After all, the idiot in question broke one of the basic survival rules. Don't go swimming in a pond in Florida unless you can fight off an alligator. That is it and as a public service message I am letting you all know that rule. Every where you go there are rules to surviving that survivors follow and dead people didn't. They are not even written down on paper, instead, they are etched into our genetic codes. You know that feeling, when your hair gets all bristly and your palms start to sweat? That is your body telling you that you are about to violate a rule of survival and if you go through with the action, your warranty will be voided. There are so many rules that I could never list them all but I will ask my readers to comment back, with their own rules of survival, I wanna know what you got. Make it fun. Later.

Zombie Amoeba.

As if the human race didn't have enough problems, now it seems we have zombie amoebas. Yes, a strain of amoeba has killed about 100 people world wide since it's discovery eleven years ago but no one really talked about it that much until a young boy died from contact with the amoeba in Lake Havasu in Arizona. apparently the boy fell ill after a visit to the lake and died a week later of flu like symptoms. I guess if you swim in that lake you might expect to fall ill, after all, it is the mating ground for several thousand college students that flock there for spring break and it is probably so full of human discharge and DNA, you could probably open your own sperm bank just by dredging the bottom. However, sickness is expected, death is not. The amoeba actually enters your body through your sinuses and eats your brain. Scientist are not sure of the origin of this organism but I have a pretty good idea. If you look at the evolutionary scale, it will tell you that all life started as a single cell organism, most likely an amoeba. Well, it makes sense that, if normal life evolved from an amoeba, then this particular creature could be the evolutionary starting point of the zombie. We really don't have to be overly worried now but in another hundred thousand years, when brain eating amphibians began to appear, that would be a good time to worry. at that point in the time line it is just a small evolutionary hop to zombie lizards, then a couple million years later and bam! We have zombie rodents and primates. In less than two million years from that point our world will have evolved a completely different race of creatures, zombies. All of them evolving from this simple brain eating, zombie amoeba. I know it is not much of an immediate threat when you think of it all in the Darwinian evolutionary time line. Who is that worried about millions of years from now? The Sun will probably be dead by then anyway or the Earth, long ago devoured by a solar flair. The problem is we can't be so sure of our time line. We all believe that any evolutionary modifications to an animal take thousands of years but what if we are wrong and the evangelical Christians of America actually have a more accurate historical time line? They believe that the world is only six to ten thousand years old and if that is so I am afraid our planet will soon be swarmed by newly evolved zombies. I have looked to the book of Revelations and I am gonna say, next Thursday, give or take a day.

200 Lashes

200 lashes and six months in jail is the price a Saudi woman must pay for being raped. In Saudi Arabia it seems, it is illegal for a woman to meet with an unrelated man. This woman did, then she was kidnapped, then gang raped and now, she has been sentenced to get lashed. Wow, you know for a country that is so anti-terrorism we sure choose some strange bedfellows. I guess this isn't really terrorism, it is just ridiculous, archaic and repugnant. You must remember that I am a person that believes in public flogging to straighten criminals out, it is like a super, wicked spanking and it would help society but I also know when it is over board and this is. For the first part, I am in favor of individual freedom. Could you imagine your life if you constantly had your wife, daughters, aunts, and nieces following you around all day because, if they want to go out they have to be with you? You would kill yourself. Then again, I am from a world where woman can do what ever they want, not just where I was raised but my heritage as well. Ah yes I am the blood of those blue eyed demons from the North, a son of Odin, offspring of Askr and Embla. Yes a people that have often been thought of a s evil or barbaric. Yet, hundreds of years before Christ, they were treating woman better than Arabians do now. What fun can that possibly be, to have all those woman in subjection to the men? I take a phrase from 1930's gangster films and say, "I like a girl with moxie", and I do. I also don't mind a girl who likes to be slapped on the hind end in a playful manner but 200 lashes, that is a bit much. If you don't know what a lash is, it is a whip, anywhere from 5 to 9 feet long and can slice skin like a leather knife. There is a good chance that 40 or so lashes would kill a healthy man so imagine what 200 could do to a small woman that wears so many cloths all day that her back has never even been sun burned. I know it is a different country and they have different laws, I also know that I will never visit them. Most of all I think since our government is allied with them and has been for years it shows us all what we they will turn a blind eye to in order to further our countries dependence on foreign oil. I guess my point is, I will take my barbaric bloodline, with our berserks and cold blooded killers over a civilized society like Saudi Arabia any day. i am bugged by this stuff and should be funnier next time.

On the subject of death. Part 3.

In part one, I covered how I would choose to die, which is not at all, or last. In part two I went over the displaying of my body. Now in part three I would like to answer Marty's final question. How would I like to be remembered? The thing about remembering people is, do they deserve to be remembered? I still believe that Statues, crypts, mausoleums...etc., are just there because of our human fear of being forgotten. Yet strangely, most of the people that have reside, worm eaten below these decorations tend to be hardly worth a second thought. I would much rather be remembered for who I was than were my corpse is. There is an old Viking saying that goes something like, " He that finds fame of words will live forever". Something like that, I never saw an accurate translation and never learned to read old Norse. I know that if I died today my wake would be full of stories that involve me and whiskey. I know some people would cry and some would laugh, some might even touch themselves inappropriately (this is, of course, directed toward Marty). Rememberance is a tough area because our brains tend to romanticize our memories. That is why ever once and a while you miss that old relationship, sure she cheated on you and tried to poison your food but she had such pretty eyes, awwww. See we are stupid like that. "I sure miss that horrible bastard", you will think as you jam the remains of said bastard into a Hefty bag. We are a wickedly retarded animal that fools ourselves repeatedly into believing lies about people, especially once they die. What is it about people that, when someone dies, they can't think of anything bad to say about them? When Ted Bundy finally got what was coming to him, I made a joke about it and got booed. I can't understand that. He murdered people for fun, he deserved to die, yet people tried telling me that I shouldn't make fun of that tragedy and that he was still a human being. Who cares? He is dead, he needed to die and he will forever be remembered by me, as a bad moment in stand up comedy. I am not delusional about my memory. I know and accept that in this world, there are people that despise me to the base of their being as well as people, that for some god forsaken reason, love my wicked and cynical nature. I can't explain it, it just is. So in answer Marty, I don't really know or care how I am remembered but if I had a choice, I guess it would be, to be remembered a one hard drinkin', hard fightin', dirty, dirty son of a bitch, that calls no man master. Either that or Captain o' Drinky Ambassador to the Beer Nebula.

On the subject of death. Part 2

In my last bit I covered how I would choose, or actually, not choose, to die. This time around I will answer the second part of Marty's query by telling you all how I would like to be displayed if I am to die before all of you. I can tell you I would not make a vain corpse. I wouldn't have to be put somewhere and preserved like that pretty boy Lenin. I would actually much prefer not to be displayed but, instead to have my body mulched in an industrial strength wood chipper and sprayed upon my enemies. This may not be the cleanest way to go out but your enemies will never forget you, that is for sure. I suppose I wouldn't be much for statues either, unless they were really abstract and weird with no mention of me anyway. That way only people who knew that it was my statue would understand. Then you have gravestones, man those are retarded. A big flashy angel sitting atop your grave pointing a sword up to Heaven is so lame. What a waste of money and marble. Perhaps you have a mortal fear of being forgotten but having a stone like that might as well read, "Here lies the body of a giant douche". If you are that forgettable in life, you will remain so in death. Only after you die you can't continue to appear at random parties and remind everyone how much you suck. You could be displayed on TV I suppose. If you die in a big way and it gets caught on tape, you may just end up a dead celebrity. You see, "Shocking", video all the time of people crashing their cars or trying to paraglide into a moving plane and in twenty years, you will still be seeing those videos. If you are suicidal, try this, become your own display. Drink two gallons of blue paint, strap three grenades to your stomach and find a big white wall, preferably during an art fair. Then, simply pull the pins, BOOM, instantly displayed. It would be even better if you carried a five gallon pail of fast setting epoxy resin with you. I guess I really don't care too much about being on display, that is more fun when you are alive. Let me make it simple for you Marty, after I go, you do what ever your sick little heart tells you to do. My suggestion is a corpse-a-pult.

On the subject of death.

Marty from Minnesota has sent me a question he would like answered, it is about my own death. This will be a three parter, starting today and ending when I get around to it.

Marty asks: How do you want to go out, how do you want to be displayed, and how would you like to be remembered?

Good question Marty. I guess first I should let you know how I don't want to go. Three easy ways I prefer not to die, sniper, zombies, or in my sleep. Why these three? Well the sniper is obvious, I believe we should get a fighting chance against the reaper and a bullet nailing you in the face from four football fields away is hardly sporting, yes I do feel that way about hunting as well but I eat what I kill, I don't hunt animals for sport, that's what castaways on my private island are for and yes, I would hunt dangerous animals with a spear and a Bowie knife so you can't question my sportsmanship. Zombie death is pretty cut and dry. Who really wants to die while filling the gullets of the undead? Not me baby. Dieing in my sleep is another way I hate the thought of, I feel that there is little dignity in soiling your linens on the way to the great unknown. It's bad enough you're dead, does the bed have to get ruined too? Many people say they would like to die while having sex. I feel that is rather thoughtless since maybe you would enjoy dieing like that but the emotional turmoil you would put the person you were having sex through may not really be fair. Dieing while having sex is only good if you die having sex with something you shouldn't, like a corpse, because of the irony, an animal, for the shear humor or 'Exploding Decoy Sodomy Baby', for the pure joy we all get from a dead child molester (for more about my EDSB initiative please look up my blog from October 19, 2007). Now to cover how I would like to go. That is a tough one and there is only one feasible answer that comes to mind. I have many generations of Scandinavian blood, so no drowning, burning or being eaten by the dragons that follow the mist. I guess I wouldn't mind putting up a real good fight before I went, something to be proud of as I wander from Midgard to Asgard, where I am to feast 'neath the branches of Yggdrasil. If that is really what happens. They probably just watch football and drink beer, which is fine too. There is the other thing were I say, I would not choose to die at all but eternally wander the Earth searching for the perfect whiskey and beer combination. Some people feel that this would get annoying and repetitive but screw them, they are just not inventive enough. I guess you gotta go sometime though so if I have to choose one way to go. Well Marty I suppose I'd have to choose last.

Next I will cover the displaying of me, that is, if I don't die after everyone else.

Endorsement time.

Yesterday a giant douche bag name of Pat Robertson, gave his endorsement to Republican Presidential candidate, Rudy Giuliani. Well now, isn't that just peachy? Most of you know I am not too thrilled about Rudy but I detest old Pat. Seriously, I hate him. I have never been a big fan of televangelism and am even slightly uplifted when one of his ilk lets loose their mortal coil but out of all the dislike I hold in my soul for that club, Pat is my most hated. He has called for assassinations, mongered for war with Iran and who could forget his rant about how the world trade center crap happened because America accepts gays? What a gigantic lump of underwear chuff he is and yet, somehow, his endorsement is helping Giuliani. I can't understand that at all. I know people like to blindly follow their religious leaders through life's little fogs but, well Giuliani has a very politically tolerant view on homosexuality and abortion. Right there you would think that there would be a slight rift between him and a man of God. Giuliani is socially liberal and Pat is supposed to be an air tight as a whales ass conservative. So what brings these two together? I would like to say something like they care about the country and it's people but it is more than likely some simple idea of greed and power. Together these two have a better chance of getting more power than they would alone. This is an obvious case of duplicity and it should not be put up with. This whole thing has made me decide to be even more sarcastic and negative than I was before. Do not be surprised when you see me next, I may have a black hole of sarcastic rage flying about my body. I say it a lot but I will say it again. I really, really hate stupid people.

Shocking?

Terri Irwin, wife of ex-animal teaser, Steve Irwin recently went on Larry King Live to promote her new book. During a heart touching, Larry King style discussion about Steve, who died last year, Larry asked if he ever thought he would die young. Terri said that he did think he may die of other than natural causes. My only problem with this is that the headline I read implied that we should have expected otherwise. Was anyone shocked when this guy popped his mortal balloon? No, no one was, not even him. I am sure his parting thoughts weren't the brightest but I am also sure that they weren't,"Kricky that's unexpected"! If you have a dog, there is a good chance that at some point that dog will bite you. Now, if instead of a dog, you have a Hippopotamus or a New Zealand Tiger snake, well then the odds of being more seriously injured by your pet increase. No one watching that show was in the least surprised when Irwin died. It was bound to happen, he knew it, his wife knew it, it was just a matter of who would win the celebrity death pool. There is an old saying that goes,"If you play with fire, you're gonna get burned". Well the same goes for animals that maul, stab, or gore, it's just the way life is. I guess I just so hate when the sensationalist media says another dumb thing and acting like Irwin was a psychic for his early death premonitions is a dumb thing. That's it, short and sweet.

Zombie movies as an allegory.

Last night I had a pizza and beer induced dream, a dream of zombies. I was in a crowd of people when one of them became a zombie and began infecting everyone around him. I as well as a few others were unaffected and this made the flesh hungry beasts turn on us and attack. Some people were devoured while others became infected through bites and joined the ranks of the walking dead. I was running, seeking shelter, a horde of zombies at my back when I reached a wall. Somehow I climbed to the top of it, hoping to escape but on the other side, what did I see? Yes, more zombies. As I stood up high on the wall and looked around I realized that I was between two parking lots, both lots being full of nasties. On one side was a Home Depot and on the other, a Wal-Mart. It was about that point in the dream that the wall began to crumble and I fell into a sea of claws and teeth. I woke with that,' gotta pee but don't want to get out of bed', feeling also, I really didn't want to be attacked by zombies that were most likely camping outside of my bedroom door. As usual, peeing won over paranoia and it was off to tinkle. I think that men get there best ideas while in the bathroom and while wavering to and fro in a eyes half opened, try not to hit the lid, kind of daze. I realized the meaning of my dream. I think zombie movies are an allegory for big box, super stores. Look at how they work, go to a Wal-Mart or a Home Depot sometime. All the people wandering around, not thinking, just purchasing. They spread these stores across the country and devour their competition. Sure some people fight back but you have to be two steps ahead to survive and most just succumb to their eventual demise. I know what you are thinking, that zombie movies have been around for much longer than these big box stores have, well, that is why it is an allegory. George A. Romero was trying to warn us about the upcoming onslaught of low grade fashion at somewhat reasonable prices. "Come to our store, find everything you need, depend on us and soon we will own you". It is the corporate model of all these stores. Okay maybe it I am wrong and it is an allegory for conformity and the fight against being one of the slow moving morons that are about 90% of the planets population. That could be as well. I don't know, I'm not Freud. One thing I do know is this. I can handle zombies, those I can fight but corporations, now they scare me.

A question for costume buffs.

I spent this week for the most part, at the door of a bar. I saw so many people and so many costumes that by the end of the evening all I wanted was to see the human race wiped from the planet and being replaced by a strip mall and I hate strip malls. I have now realized that Halloween in America has become a perfect excuse for men to dress like women and women dress like strippers. This leaves me with a few questions. First of all, I want to know what is going through the heads of the women who dress like absolute whores and I am talking about things that would make a Texas stripper blush a little, yet they get offended when you check them out. Don't you think that is a little misdirecting? If you are a hot woman you know that men are already checking you out and it might be getting on your nerves but if you are a hot woman and you dress up in scotch tape and dental floss and expect not to get ogled, well, then you are just a stupid, hot woman. Next I want to ask the really big women out there. Was the skimpy Wonder Woman outfit really a good choice? You couldn't find any outfit a bit more suited to your body style? Perhaps a tent or a Volkswagon would have been more suitable. By the way hot chicks I referred to earlier, the chubbers were getting checked out that night too so don't feel too harassed. Guys like tits and can't really help but look. Have you ever been to a renaissance festival for god sake? Those grotesque lumps of inhuman cleavage smashed into a corset and guys are still drooling over them. Hell if you dropped the corset they would spill out like the blob into a room full of newborn babies. Lastly I would like to ask all those guys that were wearing high healed shoes. How can you walk so well in them when women that wear them every day can't? I suspect that it takes a lot of practice to walk in high heels. That is what amazes me I think, the shear number of men who have been "practicing" for Halloween. that is commitment to the costume brother. I hear that J. Edgar Hoover practiced for Halloween almost every day of the year.