The Lower Quote, As If You Didn't Know, Is By Richard Dawkins, Son.

Sunday, April 30, 2006


Generally I don't like to just post links and not comment, but if you haven't seen Stephen Colbert at the White House Press Corps dinner, you must check it out. It's an amazing piece of comedy and stinging satire done right in front of its target. I have a whole new level of respect for Mr. Truthiness.

Number One with a Bullet

Thanks to both Orac and PZ for putting me onto the "what's your theme song" quizzy thing. Here's mine:

Your Theme Song is Back in Black by AC/DC

"Back in black, I hit the sack,

I've been too long, I'm glad to be back"

Things sometimes get really crazy for you, and sometimes you have to get away from all the chaos.

But each time you stage your comeback, it's even better than the last!

Funny thing is, this is totally fitting as it was the song I walked down the aisle to at my wedding. Ain't life funny?

Saturday, April 29, 2006

"...Every Once in a While...It's a Dildo"

Listening to the radio the other day, I heard a story about a pyramid in Bosnia. It was supposedly larger than the Khufu pyramid at Giza and, according to the "finder", a Semir (Sam) Osmanagic (notice that there's no "Dr." before his name), was constructed in approximately 12,000 B.C.E.

I listened to the report and how the people in Bosnia, who had been through such a rough time after the war, were now "pyramid crazy", having little keychains with pyramids on them and various other trinkety things. I thought to myself, "this sounds weird, but good for them to have something to be proud of". I am no archeologist.

Neither, however, is Semir Osmanagic. It seems that Mr. Osmanagic is a complete whack-job. After not submitting his findings to any organization that would review them by people who are qualified, his credibility started to waver. Then of course, there are the archeological data that say that at the 12,000 B.C.E. point on the time line, Bosnia would actually have been on the tail end of what's known as a "Glacial Maximum". Very cold and dry with glaciers on the tops of the mountains. See, the only folks there at that time would have been hunter/gatherers and the only stuff left behind were hearths, tools, and shit like that. They would have been way too cold and hungry to build the biggest pyramid on earth for no reason at all.

Oh, and just to relate Mr. Osmanagic's character a bit further, he believes that the Maya people were descendents of people from Atlantis. And that the Atlanteans came from the Pleiades. You know, from space. Check out this passage from his book, The World of the Maya:

Ordinary watchmakers repair our watches and put them into accordance with Earthly time. It is my theory that the Maya should be considered watchmakers of the cosmos whose mission it is to adjust the Earthly frequency and bring it into accordance with the vibrations of our Sun. Once the Earth begins to vibrate in harmony with the Sun, information will be able to travel in both directions without limitation. And then we will be able to understand why all ancient peoples worshipped the Sun and dedicated their rituals to this. The Sun is the source of all life on this planet and the source of all information and knowledge.

Yeah, so, take what this freak says with an entire salt-lick. Yet another in the string of dipshits who drone on about "vibrational energy" and ignorant crap like that.

It is nice to see the community of archeologists bitch-slap this guy though. In an article from Archeology, Curtis Runnels, a specialist in the prehistory of Greece and the Balkans at Boston University said, "These claims are completely unsupported with any kind of factual evidence, such as artifacts or photographs of the alleged architectures. They have not been confirmed by archaeologists who have the training and competence to evaluate them. The person making the claims appears to have no training in archaeology and has not presented his finds in a way that would allow them to be scrutinized by trained experts. This is simply sensationalism and grandstanding and the journalists who have reported on these claims, without first fact-checking the stories with professional archaeologists, should be ashamed of themselves. People who believe these stories, especially when they are presented without evidence, are fools."

I really can't add too much to that except to say that the Bosnian people who believe are not fools. They seem to just be longing for something to call their own that isn't a war or some other horrible thing. It doesn't make them fools to believe, it makes them human - we all want to believe in great things. The only person who is a fool here is Osmanagic, who also happens to be a dick, a manipulative money-grabbing douchebag, and an attention whore who is using the emotions of a war-torn nation to further his non-existent "discovery".

This guy's like David Icke without the reptilian overlord, anti-Semetic rhetoric, which is still really bad.

Friday, April 28, 2006

Friday Double Tap

There is a popular misconception that I'd like to clear up. The misconception is this: people who play Jeopardy on television (and, by extension, the people who play Jeopardy on their couches at home) are smarter than the people who play Wheel of Fortune.

Yes, I know, Wheel is unbearable. As soon as I hear the first chorous of "Wheel!" as part of the opening song, I have to change the channel. Bang - right over to either Discovery, Food, or Comedy. The thing is, I like to watch Jeopardy and usually do fairly well; sometimes well enough to entertain the notion of actually going on the show to shoot the breeze with Trebek. That's right, Mr. Stars on Ice himself.

Jeopardy, however, isnt' for smart people. It's for people who have a large amount of facts stored up in their heads. There is, I think, a big difference between being able to quickly sift through your mental rolodex to find a fact and being able to figure out a problem. There's no figuring on Jeopardy.

On Wheel, you actually have to problem solve. (Yes, I realize that figuring out that R_me_ and J_liet under the category of "literature" isn't the pinnacle of cognitive tasks, but you know what I mean, bastards) There isn't an answer to the question that you can easily access because there's no question - there's a problem.

I remember reading a passage from a Richard Feynman book about how his father took him for a walk in the woods. He explained about the birds and animals and such and when young Richard went to school on Monday, one of the other kids told him the name of a bird he saw, because Richard didn't know it. The kid said that Richard's dad didn't teach him anything. Depressed, young Feynman told his father the story and dad, being great, said that once you knew the name of the bird in 100 languages, you still didn't know anything about the bird. All you have is trivial knowledge.

Welcome to Jeopardy. Human filing cabinets. Oh, and before everyone yells at me; yes, you can be on Jeopardy and be really really smart. That's obvious. My argument is that it doesn't take problem solving to be good on Jeopardy. _uck on t_at.

The number two item for today is competitive eating. I was listening to CBC radio on my way to work and was enthralled by an interview with an...I hesitate to say "athlete", but that's how they view themselves. This guy talked about eating 25 hot dogs and buns in something silly, like 12 minutes, then running the Boston Marathon the next day.

Apparently, the "next generation" of "gustatory gladiators" are fit, young, and able to eat pounds of food in a single sitting. Remember in Cool Hand Luke, possibly one of the greatest movies of all time, when he tries to eat 50 hard boiled eggs in an hour? Yeah, fuck that. Sonya "the Black Widow" Thomas ate 65 in 6 minutes, 40 seconds.

Jon Stewart on The Daily Show had Ryan Nerz, a competitive eating emcee, on the show and asked him how these events could not be seen as everything that's wrong with America, following up with asking if this was just a way to say, "In your face, Ethiopia!" The guy really didn't come across as legit and neither did the "athlete" from today's interview on CBC.

The whole affair seems indulgent in the most flaunting of ways. It's like that scene in The Three Amigos when Martin Short (at his fabulous best as Little Neddy Niedermier) and Steve Martin (always great as Lucky Day) are dying of thirst riding through the desert, Neddy literally pouring sand from his canteen into his mouth, and Chevy Chase (Dusty Bottoms) swigs from a full canteen, gargles, then throws the rest away to drain into the dirt. Then, he notices his partners' despair and, as he pulls it out, he offers, "...lip balm?"

It's lame to flaunt what you've got an excess of in front of the poor folks who don't have it. You don't even have to go to Ethiopia, (although the situation in Darfur shines a bright light on how fucking stupid this "sport" is) for crying out loud. How many homeless people could you feed with the hot dogs, asparagus, sweet potato casserole, and hard boiled eggs that are in one of those contests? All it does is get me annoyed, so think about it before you decide to support these guys. It might be better to just laugh like Jon did and make them feel silly. After all, it's pretty silly to eat 11 pounds of cheesecake in 9 minutes.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Skeptic's Circle #33

Into the world, all slimy and new, a screaming fully-formed Skeptic's Circle! Take a look over at Science and Politics; you won't be sorry.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

The Atheist's Dream - Kirk Cameron's "Career"

If you take a second to look at Kirk Cameron's career track, you will see that he is the Actor's Nightmare. At the beginning, there was Disney and Herbie the Love Bug; a great start. Sadly, he then started down a slope towards sharing screen time with a slumping Robin Williams and Kurt Russell in his Behind the Music P.O.F. (price of fame) movie moment - The Best of Times.

Suddenly, the turnaround came and he was cast in Growing Pains with the acting powerhouses of both Alan Thicke and future anorexia victim Tracey Gold. Cameron was set to once again fall to obscurity. By embracing dogmatic faith and befriending some Australian weirdyass who thinks bananas are the worst thing to happen to atheists since human eyes, he was primed to do the Left Behind series, now fully catering to the Christian set and losing nearly his entire fan base. Way to go, teen star number 15!

Following Cameron's "career", you'll see that he, personally, is the atheist's dream. If there really was a loving God up there in the sky and he/she/it was as Cameron believes, he/she/it should be showering gifts of happiness, fame, fortune, popularity, and riches on him for doing the right things with his life. The fact that he is a virtual unknown now, only passing the lips of 30-somethings as an afterthought or a flubbed answer to a Trivial Pursuit question, means he is truly left behind - intellectually, culturally, and socially.

As an interesting exercise, go to his IMDB site and see how many titles you recognize after Growing Pains. Seriously, the whole of creation testifies to the horror that is Cameron's post-Pains life.

...yeah, I only knew one as well. Enjoy your "perfectly fitting" banana, dipshit.

...and the Papa Tomato said, "Ketchup".

The Vatican is in the news of late for seemingly "looking at" the issue of condoms preventing HIV/AIDS. Apparently Cardinal Javier Lozano Barragan, head of the Vatican office for health care, is "studying" the topic in preparation for a report to be presented to Pope Benny.

Said J-Lo, "We are conducting a very profound scientific, technical and moral study" on how to deal with the whole "sex" issue when one member of a married couple has HIV/AIDS. I think I must not have a very big brain or something, because the solution seems pretty simple to me. Use condoms. If it's a choice between not having sex or killing your spouse and using a condom - as Mr. White said in Reservoir Dogs, "ain't no choice at all".

Some of the Cardinals (sadly, not Ozzie Smith) say that because within a married couple, an HIV-positive spouse could transmit the virus to the other, it was a "lesser evil" to condone the couple's use of condoms. Let me rephrase that, because the lunacy of the Catholic Church is very clear in that one sentence. If it is a decision to either use a piece of rubber on your penis or kill your wife/husband, it is LESS EVIL to use the rubber.

In the annals of stupidity and horrifyingly tragic backwardness, the Catholic Church is in the top spot. How amazingly insensitive to human nature can you be to insist that people not have sex with their wife or husband? Catholic priests...well, how about just recognizing that they're not supposed to have sex of any kind with anyone or anything, then make your own joke. Benny's friend is even up on charges, for crying out loud. Sex is a human urge, a need, and if using a condom will protect the person you are with from a certain death, what is the problem?

And yes, I understand that using a condom makes having children almost impossible, thus the problem the church has with them. Same reason gays are bad (that and the whole bible verse about "men layeth with men as he layeth with a woman" bad bad kill them and stone them and whip them and hang them and then pee on them and then masturbate over them and ...wait...skip that last part.

The Catholic Church seriously needs to get over this "have a million kids so there will be a million little Catholic cabbages running around and then we'll take over the planet" thing. It's not going to happen. People are realizing that you have no idea what is going on with most of the world and you are killing thousands of people in Africa alone with your asinine ideas about "birth control".

If only HIV/AIDS could be passed along by giving hand-jobs to altar boys, then you'd see regulation come in pretty damn fast (sadly, against altar boys).

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Iran, the Pope, and Half-Faced Ghosts!

There's so much going on now, I frankly don't know what to write about. Iran is still freaking and there are talks of women being fined and/or imprisoned for "prostitution" - that is, wearing "figure-hugging" coats and head scarves that don't cover every strand. "Coats"? Seriously? I wonder if Iranian Muslim get hard-ons from seeing uncovered table legs? What if they eat a chicken breast? Do chickens have nipples (there's a question for Mr. Wizard if ever there was one)? If they did, that'd officially be weird. Last I checked, prostitution involved the exchange of money for a bit of weasel or maybe a piece of face. Perhaps my standards are different.

I could write about the Pope and his iPod. Maybe his "possibly Prada" shoes. But really, who cares. A former friend of the Pontiff is up on molestation charges, but in a time when every 4th priest you meet has had his crozier in a 10 year old, it's not that shocking. I'll pass today. I'll even pass on the picture of the Mr. Jebus in the Popemobile. Unless someone's taking a shot, I'm not interested.

I thought that because I have a interest in the paranormal, this would be a fun ride today. It appears that a British pub has a ghost with half a face in the bathroom. Toilets flush by themselves and TVs come's friggin' creepy. I wonder if anyone checked the fuse box or the wiring? No? Did someone call Uri Geller, because I'm sure that dipstick is interested in appearing in 17 different television shows about the "phenomenon". That guy is a...what's the word....? "Media whore". Yeah, that's it.

Ghost stories. Will anyone ever actually see a ghost on film? In this era of video ("America's Funniest Home Videos" is in its 17th season), you'd think someone would have caught something weird on tape. Nope. And don't tell me you saw something on the 'net because if there was tape of a ghost out there, it'd be on CNN, Dateline, ABC, FOX (they'd have an autopsy of the fuckin' thing in a week), and The View where Star Jones would tell about how the Lord took care of her because she was at that exact pub just two months before the incident and isn't the Lord grand to have spared her.

I think we should have a moratorium on ghost stories until you have solid proof of something truly unexpected happening. TVs turning on don't count until you check the wiring and the power grid for that day. Toilets flushing don't count either until an actual plumber checks things out. This ain't Scooby Doo, motherfuckers - but maybe if we all acted a little bit more like those pesky kids, we'd be less impressed with ghosts and such (Scooby Doo is a foreshadow to July the 20th!).

Spring Cleaning

I'm compiling my posts in a Word document for ease of editing and such. This means I haven't posted in a day, and for that I am eternally sorry. I shall post again tomorrow or later today. Enjoy the nice weather!

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Now, Mostly Dead is Slightly Alive....

Miracles. How does one define them? Miriam Webster says:
1 : an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
2 : an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
3 Christian Science : a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law

I don't think there are any "divine acts of God" because I think that performing a "divine act" presupposes existence, which hasn't been shown to be in any way probable. However, a monk buried in Greece fifteen years ago and recently exhumed is being displayed and publicly adored as the miraculous works of the Almighty because he was only "partially decomposed". Apparently the creator of the universe had some time on his hands before he has to wrestle Vince McMahon in the WWE (see "Creator of the Universe" entry below for April 16th).

Greek monk Vissarionas Korkoliakos was laid to his final rest in 1991. Now, I don't know the specifics of monk burial in Greece, but it may be that decreasing the moisture in the tomb and doing other accidental yet body-preserving things are just part of the normal procedure. Let's check things like this out first, shall we, before we move on to fairies, invisible creators, and miracles? Great.

A Greek anthropologist in the article said, "(M)iracles are a personal matter for each individual...(T)hese are very sensitive matters." Well, no, actually. A miracle is defined above and everyone has the same access to a dictionary as I do. It's not a relative term. Either something fits the definition or it doesn't. Again, a man's body not following the normal path of decomposition indicates something odd in his post-mortem preparation, casketing, or burial. That's it.

Now this kills me. It seems that the location of Tinos is considered an "all-purpose salvation site" while other churches have a specialized focus - such as the church of Virgin Mary Tsambika on the island of Rhodes, which is said to cure couples who can't have the kiddies. The location of our dead monk's body is in the city of Lamia in central Greece; get this - Lamia, in Greek lore, was a woman who fell in love with Zeus. When Hera (Big Z's angry and psychotic wife) found out, she turned Lamia into a monsterous snake thing and killed her children. Just to tack on some insanity, Hera made Lamia's eyes unable to close so she'd never get a break from the image of her dead kids. Nice, eh? Oh, and Lamia was so jealous and envious of the other mothers after her little ordeal that she took it upon herself to lure their children to her and eat them. She's apparently also known as "Lilith". It's nice to know that a woman's musical fair is named after a child-eating adultress monster.

So this place is favored by God? Well pardon me, but that makes about as much sense as Charlie Sheen and Tom Cruise starting up a "Logic Club". I know that religion has a grip on most people's thinking, but we really have to start questioning faulty reasoning and bringing some semblence of rationality to proceedings, regardless of where they are in the world. Yes, even in a place named after a snake-woman who can take out her eyes and who eats children.

Have fun stormin' the castle!

Friday, April 21, 2006

The W Network - You're Dead to Me

I just watched a show on the W Network that made my blood boil. Blood is an apt comparison here because it was a show about the tragic murder of a woman named Penny Serra on July 16, 1973. This particular program was about a "psychic" and her "help" in solving the crime. Ok, maybe I'm over-reaching - she herself said that, "psychics don't solve crimes, that they aren't police." The thing is, the whole show glazed over the actual police efforts as if they didn't even matter and focused on the "psychic's" vague and meaningless "predictions" as if they were sent from some magical place to help investigators.

I tried to pay attention to what the delusional cow was saying, but it was the standard bullshit: "...I see the color blue...the letter E...something about water..." and blah blah blah. Nothing that actually helped anyone. They kept cutting back to her today saying after the fact statements about how she "knew" the guy they caught was the killer, and she "knew" that Penny was a woman who would have screamed out. She talked about "psychometry", the practice of getting psyhic vibes from objects, places, or people - also the standard babble about "energy interacting" without a whit of a comment about what, precisely, she was talking about.

To cut an hour-long story short, the actual killer was caught in June, 1999. That's almost 26 years after Penny's murder. It goes without saying that the "psychic" played no part in the man's apprehension. The detective who initially brought the dumbass in had retired and Penny's father, who had campaigned tirelessly to keep her case open, had died.

When they caught Edward Grant, they did so on fingerprints, DNA matching, and paint chips that the police matched to Grant's autobody shop. You know...actual police work. There was, of course, the obligatory gloating of the douchebag "psychic" about her being correct in saying there was "blue" (although I can't remember how she brought it up and it doesn't matter anyway), that the letter "E" was involved (because the dude's name was if his name was Michael, would she still have taken the hit because "e" is in the name?), and the "water" thing was still a hit because Grant lived in "Waterton". No shit?

Well, give a retard a crayon because you can colour me unimpressed. It's great that this dipshit can retrofit some of her "predictions" about the case into what was found to have actually happened, but she was as useless as a seat-belt on Sean Preston Spears' high chair. Allow me to give the definition of "prediction" from Miriam-Webster's Dictionary: Main Entry: pre┬Ědict
Pronunciation: pri-'dikt
Function: verb
Etymology: Latin praedictus, past participle of praedicere, from prae- pre- + dicere to say -- more at DICTION
transitive senses : to declare or indicate in advance; especially : foretell on the basis of observation, experience, or scientific reason

You might have noticed something funny in there; specifically the phrase, "foretell on the basis of observation, experience, or scientific reason." At no point in this wounded duck of a program, did the douchy "psychic" show anything that resembled "scientific reason". The only person who does show reason is Penny Serra's sister Rosemary in her 2003 testimony. If you would like to be moved and read from someone who realises that hard work and perseverance is what gets the job done, please take a minute or two to check this out. It is well worth your time to hear a grateful woman thank the people who should be thanked (like the Connecticut State Police Forensic Scientist, Christopher Grice) and who, funnily enough, didn't get even a word of mention in the W Network's show.

It is a disgrace that a manipulative, delusional pig like the "psychic" on this show was allowed to lead a father astray and give him false hope, taking him away from the people who were working endlessly to find his daughter's killer. She now gets the spotlight on a television show while the scientists who did the work, put in the hours, and brought the murderer to justice are ignored. Shame on them. They are dead to me.

Oh, and if you believe in "psychics", stop it.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Coochie Coochie Coo...BOOM!!

Perhaps my impression of prison visitations is incorrect. I mean, my only experience with dropping into centres of incarceration is in the movin' pictures or in the TV box. I contemplated visiting the Bangkok jail to give some chewing gum to locked-up Westerners when I was there, but then I remembered that the river tour was starting and I should get there early if I wanted a good seat.

Now I read an article saying that 44 year-old Lidia Alvarado smuggled into prison a live grenade and some weed. Guess where she hid it. Yeah, that's right, let your mind go to that place that you only visit on Fridays and the late-night television starts to show boobies. You got it, friend, she put the LIVE GRENADE and weed in a tube in her vagina.

As if I didn't feel insecure enough before I read this bit. Jesus, how inadequate can a guy be when you've got some El Salvadoran chick using her cooch as a fuckin' RPG. That's like having Matthew McCockehey as a flatmate and your girlfriend seeing him naked in the kitchen cooking a stir fry and reading poetry. Once you realize the potential, your limits come crashing into perspective and you're sure you are out of your league. Dammit.

That chick needs help.

Puts the "Dick" in "Dictator"

Hey, know who the guy in the photo here is, smiling with Condi Rice?

Well, if you don't, allow me to show you a brief overview. You might want to focus on the part where it says, "his regime (is) one of the most corrupt, ethnocentric, oppressive and anti-democratic states in the world." Or maybe the other part where it says in 2003, "state-operated radio declared that the president is a God who is 'in permanent contact with the Almighty' and can 'kill anyone without being called to account'".

Hm. Do you think they're just trying to "send a message" to Iran with this visit, or are they maybe just doing some wishful thinking about how they'd like their administration to be? You know, banish 90% of all opposing politicians, kill anyone who goes against you, let people think you're a cannibal. Regular shit.

Does the U.S. administration even care anymore who its seen with? Fuck....

"The Only Winning Move is Not to Play"

A letter was sent to President Bush from 13 physicists regarding his non-denial of the possibility of nuclear weapons being used pre-emptively against Iran. You might want to re-read that sentence just to clear up the "pre-emptive nuclear strike" bit that's rolling around in your head like it is mine.

So many people and comics have made so much fun of Bush and how much of a retarded chimp he is, but sometimes I think we forget that the United States and, by default, Bush, has the most nuclear weapons of any nation on the planet. Seems to me that Bush has an itchy hand and the red phone might be just the thing to scratch it. Doubt me? Ask anyone in a country with a name that ends in "-stan" and see how fuckin' scared they are. Shit, if all I had was a cave and a towel to wrap my head in and wipe my ass with, some wannabe-Texan badass with, "around 9,960 intact warheads, of which 5,735 are considered active or operational" (from Wikipedia), would scare the United Nations rice rations right out of my clenched browneye.

It's also weird to think that this administration has not answered Scott Ritter's claims that Iran is far away from being able to enrich uranium properly for weapons grade material, or that Iran is actually allowed to do everything it's claiming to be doing under the non-proliferation treaty. (You know, if me from 10 years ago read what I just wrote, my youthful head would melt...just like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark) You would think someone in the White House Press Corp would bring that up....

Now, all this is not to say that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad isn't fuckin' off-his-banana-suckin'-monkey insane. Read any of my previous posts about that aura-seeing freak of nature and you'll be up to speed. The thing is, North Korea has nuclear weapons, and Kim Jong Il is just a naked midget and a double-D implant away from a Seymore Butts birthday party - crazy, man!

All this nuclear talk and physics has now made me tired and scared. I'm off to shudder in my oversized bathtub, alone and buzzed on cheap beer. 'Cause, you know, if you're gonna die in a global thermo-nuclear war, that's the way to do it.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Muslim See, Muslim Freak

The "do as we do" Muslim brigade has come out in force in Indonesia in protest of the pubication of Playboy magazine. Islamic freaks stoned the building and burned copies of the magazine in protest. All this because a titty magazine (with no titties, by the way) decided to make itself available in another market.

The religious folks, as fucked in the head as they are, are certainly allowed to think that the human body, and in particular, the female body, is a horrible horrible thing that makes a disgusting piece of "art". Muslims seem to think that seeing a woman without a fucking black sheet over her head will drive them to insanity, erections pointing towards Mecca. You know, for a religion that can convince dudes to strap explosives to their chest and blow themselves up in public, these guys have really shitty self-control.

And it's not like Maxim or Stuff aren't available there. Apparently, those mags are more explicit than the Indonesian version of Hef's. Oh, and the initial issue of Playboy has been selling well, thank you very much. So, all the Islamic 'tards are doing is threatening regular people to behave like "good Muslims", even if they aren't.

Imagine the outcry if atheists all of a sudden started blowing shit up so people would stop believeing in Jesus/Allah/Muhammad/Buddha/Abraham/the Bible/God. Out of the blue, atheists everywhere started demanding that Robert Ingersoll and Carl Sagan be made available in every church, synogogue and mosque in town because "we must be rational above all else". Imagine if atheists started putting a copy of The Demon-Haunted World in every hotel room across the land and removing those silly-ass Gideon bibles.
Of course, we could do some of these small things. Take the bible out of the next hotel room you stay in; replace it with a note or something suggesting some books to read instead. I just thought of that and I think it's a great idea. Who's with me?

Edit - It has been brought to my attention that I have a bit of a typo in the first paragraph. Please enjoy the use of the newly coined word for the publication of a pornographic magazine or book, "pubication". Thanks to "Dan" for pointing it out.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Creator of the Universe, Holder of the Light Heavyweight Championship of the World

Remember that old joke where "three guys" are playing golf and one guy makes all these miracles happen to get a hole in one, and it turns out that it's Moses, Jesus, and God playing? Well, it seems that golf isn't the only physical activity which the Big Guy enjoys partaking.

I'm flipping through the news stories of the weekend and I come across something that I considered rather odd. It seems that God, the Almighty Father of the Universe and the Creator of All that Is, is going to be wrestling Vince McMahon in an upcoming pay-per-view event. No indication as to how, exactly, the WWE is going to arrange God's appearance, but hell, I'm sure that all the trailer parks within a 50 mile radius will be sitting empty that night.

How do you have the balls to even aim for something like that? I mean, fuck. "Here's God, off the top rope, emulating Jimmy 'Superfly' Snooka, with the backflip slam! I don't think McMahon will be getting up from that, Bobby. Oh! And God is applying the Figure Four! This is a massacre..." Seriously, if it was guaranteed that the Lord Upon High would actually make an appearance and drop Vince, I might fork out the $40 to see it. Heck, just to tape the commentary and listen to it over and over would be hilarious.

"God with a right, and a right, and another right! He's got McMahon in the corner, right against the turnbuckle! McMahon turns around to throw a right of his own, but God turns his hand into a Nerf football! Oh, land's sake, Bobby, that's just not cricket! McMahon seems to be in shock, but now God has turned Vince's ass into an E-Z Bake Oven! Oh Heaven's to Betsy, God is eating fresh baked chocolate cookies out of Vince's Oven Ass! This is a match to go down in the books, friends!"

This little scheme is so potentially funny that I almost wish I worked for the WWE and could take at least partial credit for it. Maybe I'll start sending in scripts and see if maybe after God shows up to kick the muffins out of Vince, the Almighty would take an over-the-top battle royale match against Muhammad (the Iron Sheik?), Buddha (he's sort of like Kamala, the Ugandan head-hunter), L. Ron Hubbard (the Honkey-Tonk Man with red hair and Tom Cruise managing), and the king of the beasts, one lion.

I'd put my money on the lion.

I Am So Smart...S-M-R-T....

I found an article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune (thanks to Fark) with a quiz containing 10 questions from scientists about basic science knowledge. See how many you can get, then check yourself against the actual answers at the bottom of the page here.

1. What percentage of the earth is covered by water?

2. What sorts of signals does the brain use to communicate sensations, thoughts and actions?

3. Did dinosaurs and humans ever exist at the same time?

4. What is Darwin's theory of the origin of species?

5. Why does a year consist of 365 days, and a day of 24 hours?

6. Why is the sky blue?

7. What causes a rainbow?

8. What is it that makes diseases caused by viruses and bacteria hard to treat?

9. How old are the oldest fossils on earth?

10. Why do we put salt on sidewalks when it snows?

Extra credit: What makes the seasons change?

Friday, April 14, 2006

I'll Take Door Number Three, Monty

Man, how much of a fuckin' psychotic nutcase is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad? The Iranian President said again that Israel is, "heading toward annihilation".

I've said this before, but how can he not see the irony in his saying that the holocaust never happened, and then in the same breath saying, "The Zionist regime is a rotten, dried tree that will be eliminated by one storm." He wants to "wipe Israel off the map", but of course, no one else ever thought things like that or carried those thoughts out with, say, industrial ovens and/or gas chambers.

There are conflicting reports about Iran's nuclear capabilities: Israel's chief of military intelligence says that Iran could have a bomb within three years. Scott Ritter, on the other hand, says that Iran won't be able to make any nukes for quite some time.

It's weird how Bush and Grumpy and Condie and the other dwarves are talking about the "threat of Iran"; Ahmadinejad (who is, just to reiterate, fuckin' bat-shit insane - please refer to this quote from the linked article where he says, "The last day when I was speaking before the (U.N. General) Assembly, one of our group told me when I started to say, 'In the name of God the Almighty, the Merciful,' he saw a light around me, and I was placed inside this aura and I felt it myself. I felt the atmosphere suddenly change, and for those 27 or 28 minutes the leaders of the world did not blink. When I say they did not bat an eyelid, I am not exaggerating because I was looking at them and they were wrapped...") is talking about his budding nuclear arsenal but, no, really, it's only for "energy"; and Scott Ritter has the only scientific explanation of what the actual situation is and he was correct about there being no WMDs in Iraq - so who to believe?

Well, since Bush and his cohorts could, at this point, most likely fuck up licking a stamp, and Ahmadinejad is loony like a broke crackhead surrounded by dicks and money, I'm betting on Ritter. You know though, I'd almost back an invasion of Iran, but only if it was by Steven Segal and only if they filmed it all. Maybe I'd get lucky and Mr. Reincarnated Lama would infiltrate the Islamic government, kill Mahmoud AND his aura, then do a Mama Cass and choke to death on a tainted, non-kosher vendor-dog.

I'd pay seven bucks to see that movie.

Sub-atomic Laws, Scientific Pause, Synchronicity....

So Douchepak Chumpra is back again, blathering on about how different people try to find and make sense of God. He does, to be fair, make some good points about God both being the cause of, and saviour from natural disasters like hurricanes, earthquakes, or radioactive bear-sized African killer bees descending on your town. He rightly points out that this can be a cause of some people to look elsewhere for God.

He says, "that spiritual seeking generally takes seven forms." I don't know where he got this number from, but I'm sure that seven is some sort of Kundalini magic number that Aphrodite used to cast a spell of knowledge on Hercules in the Garden of Namenclii or some such silliness. You never know with Douchepak - he was probably there and took psychic notes.

Religion (and gods, by extension) needs to make us special for it to work and have power over us. Charlatans like Chumpra try to make mystery where there is none and obfuscate where we already understand so he can have the answers in his twisted "physics". As an example, I guide you to his page of top selling products. If you would be so kind as to look at the "synchrodestiny" thingy and read the blurb beside. Oh, in particular, the part that says it will, "help you discover the power of meaningful coincidence to manifest abundance in your life. Much like a powerful magnet, you will begin to attract material wealth, emotional well-being, spiritual fulfillment, and a deep awareness of your life's true meaning and purpose."

This putrid, ass-smelling line of "thinking" is so shallow that you might confuse it with square of wet toilet paper on a bus-station floor. When new-agey helmet-heads start talking about coincidence, you should just retreat into your mind and think about times tables or the chemical forumla for root beer or anything more intelligent than what the hemp-clad crystal hawker is the lyrics to the latest 50 Cent "song".

Noticing that Pink Floyd's song Money is playing on LuLu Lemon's sound system while you're purchasing a $400 thong, then finding a quarter on the ground does NOT mean that you are about to come into some undeserved cashish. Douchepak would like you to think it means you should spend another $150 on SynchroDoucheity so you can learn what, exactly it really means.

Chumpra should just tithe crystal-wearing hippies 20% of their income and keep buying Jags.

Oh My God! They Censored South Park! You Bastards!

As South Park is wont to do, they recently made an episode talking about Prophet Muhammad and his unholy depiction in other media. Comedy Central, the network that airs the cartoon, decided to not show the image of Muhammad and instead put up a screen at that point of the show saying, "Comedy Central has refused to broadcast an image of Muhammad on their network."

Pardon me, but what a bunch of pussies. You'll show the "Bloody Mary" episode where a statue of the Virgin Mary shoots blood out of her vagina onto the Pope, but you back down when it's a picture of Islam's favorite boy? Blow me, Comedy Central.

And call 9-1-1 but keep the balloons in your pocket, 'cause I'm going to die of not-surprise; William Donohue (the outspoken waste of skin who talks for the Catholic Defamation Everyone Sucks Except People Who Love Pope Benny and Jesus League) piped up and voiced his disapproval. He (wiley douchemonkey that he is) called for Trey and Matt to resign out of principle for being censored. If you'd like to know more about 'ol Billy, check here. He's certifiable.

There was no immediate comment from Trey and Matt, but judging from their efficient handling of Scientology's thetan-police Hubbartrons, I can't wait to see how Donohue is portrayed in an upcoming episode.

Ok, I'm tired and that's all I have for now.

Annotated Ranter on Taxes

Guess what? There's a new piece from the Annotated Ranter. It's a good one so grab a beer (or whatever you pour down your cake-hole) and check the words.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Alright, This Is Ri-Goddamn-Diculous

As many of you know, I am about as anti-religion as you can get. That means that when I see an article like this one that talks about a member of the Kansas Board of Education getting her barbed-wire panties in a knot about a picture of the Flying Spaghetti Monster in a classroom, it gets stuck in my teeth like a pube in my cheeseburger. I must address it immediately.

Connie Morris, the prissy little douche who complained to the principal about the picture, was one of the people who voted to include "criticisms of evolution" in Kansas schools. The teacher, Randy Mousley, had both the FSM picture and a Doonesbury cartoon (most likely the one with the doctor talking to the creationist about his TB) up on his door.

There were at least two people on the Board school tour who did not vote for the inclusion of religion in science classes, those being Carol Rupe and Sue Gamble. They made sure that the principal knew that Morris had no weight to throw around (not for her lack of effort). It's nice to know that Kansas has normal people, not just Thumpers who need the Lord to invade every aspect of everyone's lives.

The Board chairman, who, sadly, voted for Jesus, said that he thought the Flying Spaghetti Monster is "silly". He was quoted as saying, "Personally, I think it's juvenile." Yeah, much like it's juvenile for grown adults to believe in an invisible friend and try to include their buddy Jebus in science class? Sort of like that?

To balance the...what's the word?...retardedness of the previous article, I direct you to this piece from the Huffington Post. There has to be balance in my world or the drooling psalm monkeys start to overwhelm me. Enjoy.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

This is my rifle...

Radio host John London was recently fired from San Francisco station KIFR-FM (106.9) for uttering a death threat directed towards Penn Jillette. See, Penn did a show talking about the recent offer to Paris Hilton to play Mother Theresa in an Indian movie. He was none too kind to the Albanian nun, as has been his position in the past, much like fellow Theresa debunker, Christopher Hitchens.

I can see London trashing Jillette. I can. I mean, if you buy all the "she was a saintly woman who never did anything wrong" stuff, maybe you could have a bone up your ass for protecting her. The part where he deserves to be fired comes when he offers $5000 for Jillette's death or, "$7000 if he suffers". You can't make a specific threat like that - geez, if you did that about the president, you'd be in jail right now politely asking Jamaal to go easy with the pelvic thrusts and at what time, precisely, would he like his salad tossed.

Will Paris Hilton play M.T. in the movie? Most likely not after a complete background check reveals the night-vision wiener sucking. Penn has his opinion about why Theresa did what she did (that is, not use the money that came to her to make her "hospitals" the best they could be, but only to further Catholic doctrine and keep herself among the suffering so she could become a saint, and her ties to rather brutal dictators - which is backed up with solid evidence in Hitchens' book) and he's more than allowed to say as much. London can rebutt to his little heart's content, but threatening a cash reward for his death is, as Austin Powers says, "well, it's just not cricket, baby."

If you want to see what "Mother" Theresa is about, just read Hitchens' book. It's short, but as Amazon says, it's a "little cruise missile of a book". And now, I'm off to work. Enjoy your day.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Fabulous New Look

In response to a few kind readers, I have decided to change the look of my blog for ease of reading and printing. Thanks to those who brought this issue to my short attention span. It'll be a day before I get all my favorite links back up, but hopefully this will be better for everyone.

Change is good.

It's Pat!

Seriously, how many times can one person act like a handicapped cabbage and still be looked up to? I think Pat Robertson is at the limit.

Squinty Pat Robertson (SPR) has done an interview with CBS News where it seems that his invisible friend has a little bit of an interest in the marital goings-on of a woman SPR is counselling. He was with a woman afflicted with asthma and was trying to find out the cause:

"And then I prayed. And I said, 'Lord, what's wrong with her?' I just prayed silently. And the Lord said, 'Ask about her sex life.'"

Seriously. It seems that because her husband was impotent, she got asthma. I guess it was the lack of sperm in the household air that used to keep the inflammation in her bronchioles at bay. So now, just to pile another duty on god's desk, he now is an ENT M.D.

Then, of course, farther along in the article, we get this gem: "The United States' greatness-- (UNINTEL PHRASE) is our religious faith." Yeeaaah. It's not in your innovation, your huge cities, your mostly great people, or your world's the religion. You know, just for about five minutes, I'd like to be SPR just to see the faeries and purple sky and gumdrops falling from Jesus' lap onto my hands. I bet that would be great...right up until you realize he's a raving lunatic who controls a University and about 300,000 people's minds.

Oh yes, SPR was asked if non-believers could get into Special Sky, and he gave the stock answer of, "Well, that's not what the Bible teaches...(T)he Apostle Peter said-- this salvation and no other. And so I do believe that the thought is we've all sinned and come short of the glory of God. And there's one-- salvation from that sin, and that is the-- the death of Jesus." BAD! We're all BAD! Only Jebus can make you good again! Apart from that, you're BAD! And you smell of elderberry stems!

Finally, Patty was put this question, "(C)an you be a good person-- and not be a Christian or maybe not even believe in a supreme being?", to which he threw out, "Oh, I think-- it depends on what the term 'good person' is. Sure, you can be good. You can be a good person. But the trouble is, inside of us-- there is something that-- doesn't want to obey the commands of God. And really deep inside, it has a hard time dealing with some of the stresses of life." Sort of like a priest who bones an eight year-old? Sort of like that?

Most of this interview reads like Michael Jackson talking about Peter Pan, only without the creepy high-pitched voice or non-existent nose. I can't tell you how freaked out I get when I put some thought into a piece like this and realize that this delusional whack-job is mainstream. He ran for President, for fuck's sake. Also, to be honest, I couldn't read the entire two-page interview. It just is too painful with all the "Jesus" and "Lord" and shit. I have a huge problem with conversational focus when I'm dealing with someone who talks about a non-existent entity more than five times a minute.

Now that I have read and posted on SPR, I have to go bathe and ejaculate throughout my home to help with my wife's asthma. Sperm...who knew?

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Shake Hands With Ourselves

I remember the news reports from 12 years ago saying that there were killings happening in some country in Africa. Somewhere in the middle. At the time I thought exactly what most other people thought: "Oh man, that's horrible," but that was the extent of my involvement.

Then in 1999 I started to read about the genocide. I learned that 800,000 people had been slaughtered in three months (which, for you folks like me who are bad at math, is just under 9000 people per day, every day). I learned about the destabilizing effect of Burundi's internal struggles in 1993 and the problems in Uganda that lent unfavorable feelings to Rwanda. I read about the political assassination of the Rwandan president, his plane shot down with a rocket-propelled grenade. Of course I learned, after the fact like almost everyone else, about the burocratic nightmare of paperwork and red tape that, in part, facilitated the downfall of Rwandan society in 1994.

I read The Bone Woman by Clea Koff, a good book about a forensic anthropologist who goes, among other places, to Rwanda to recover bodies and evidence to use in the prosecution of those found responsible. The horrible things that the victims had done to them before they were killed made my stomach tight and my eyes tear up.

I read Shake Hands With the Devil, the account of the entire incident by United Nations commander Romeo Dallaire, which tore my insides out for the two weeks it took me to get through it. I would come home and my wife would say, "What's wrong with you? You look so sad today...", and I'd reply, "It's the book" - it's so difficult to read that I literally had to put the thing down to recover.

If ever there were a good reason to have unreasonable beliefs, Romeo Dallaire has it. He has seen (along with everyone else who was there) the depths of the human existence. He called his book Shake Hands With the Devil because he said that he knew now that there is a Heaven and a God because he has seen the Devil. He saw him in the eyes of the murderers during the genocide. After you've seen machetes and axes and guns and clubs do their terrible jobs on hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children, you most likely revert to your youth and whatever gave you comfort, so, mentally, you can survive the ordeal. Dallaire had religion, so, logically to him, he made sense of the situation. Of course, he had (and I'm sure still has) his demons, which almost took his life and did lead to the suicide of his book's "shadow author", Sian Cansfield, after she heard so many stories of death and murder.

You have to accept that there is a God and a Devil if you are like M. Dallaire, because the alternative is much too frightening: that we are capable of that sort of destruction all on our lonesomes. It is part of us. To accept that we, the people, could take a baby's legs and swing it into a cement wall in front of it's parents, without any sort of demonic influence, is to say that we could do it again. That M. Dallaire almost lost the battle in his head tells me that he tried to justify his belief in some higher being and how, if this entity was up there and "all good", could it let so many innocent people meet such a terrible terrible end.

He seems to have reconciled this inconsistency with himself, but he has much more depth to his faith than I ever had in mine. I prefer simplicity which, sadly, means that it is just us down here. We have the ability to do amazingly good things to help each other and ensure that everyone has food, shelter, and access to medicine. The flipside is what happened in Rwanda twelve years ago, and if we take credit for the good (which we should), we also have to take responsiblilty for the very very bad. We must not blame the horrible things we do on the Devil, for the Devil is not something outside our doors - it is us.

Yahoo's Serious

It seems that the folks Down Under are just the people from whom we should be taking lessons. No, not on how to throw a boomerang. Canoe News reported recently that an Australian federal police (AFP) officer was suspended after consulting a psychic regarding an ongoing investigation over a death threat to Aussie PM John Howard.

It's not that the officer, whose name has not been released - so we'll call him Yahoo Fife, actually consulted the psychic; it's that he "breach(ed)the AFP code of conduct regarding confidentiality and national security" by revealing details of the case to "small town psychic", Elisabeth Walker, someone he knew socially. Weird how a psychic knowing that the Australian Prime Minister likes to wear hoop skirts and sing "O Come All Ye Faithful" would jeopardize the legwork of his collegues.

Fife wasn't even on the case. He just knew that a serious threat had been made and that it was stalling. He took it upon himself to go to the clairvoyant, however because "(T)he AFP...does not condone the use of psychics in security matters", he's being investigated. See, now I'm curious to know what Ms. Walker said about the threat. Let's use this as her JREF application! Of course, she would have had to have made a specific prediction listing a specific event, place, and time which she surely didn't when talking to Officer Fife.

We need legislation saying that no one can use "psychics", "mediums", "clairvoyants", or "channellers" for anything other than a monetary donation. It's not even like a casino where you have a small chance of winning something; they just take your money and tell you some vague bullshit and you go home. End of transaction.

If you go to "psychics", stop it. If I hear about it, I'm going to make relentless fun of you. Or, just give your money to me! I need a set of golf clubs and I think you should pay for them. Better my clubs than Ms. Walker's friggin' dream catchers.

Friday, April 07, 2006

James Randi

A big hello to anyone popping over from James Randi's Swift page. I'm very happy to read that Amazing is feeling better and is all over the challenges to the Million Dollars. Please enjoy some light reading and feel free to leave a comment!

In My Day...

I think I'm getting older. I mean, I know I'm getting older, but I see clues in the things I do and say now. For instance, I recently aquired the urge to take up golf. I've never golfed before in any meaningful way but I was in the mall and the golf section just beckoned to me.

Also, I now have ear hair. What the fuck is the use of that? I'm thirty-five, not eighty. I don't need the evolutionary protection of stiff hairs to keep shit out of my ear-holes. Man...

Speaking of evolution and I.D. ("Intellectually Devoid" of science), a researcher here in Canada was recently denied a grant approval to investigate the detrimental effects of studying "intelligent" design by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC). Seems like a normal enough thing to look into, but nope - not to the SSHRC. They said that he had not provided "adequate justification for the assumption in the proposal that the theory of evolution, and not intelligent design theory, was correct." (my emphasis)

Wow. Now, the committee claims that this sentence was taken "out of context", but unless the prefix of the quote reads, "We would give you the money but it has already been earmarked for coffee, donuts, and shares in the new Mariah Carey fragerance; however since we can't say that in a grant application reply, we'll say what the Sandwich Delivery Guy told us to say: that you didn't give..."

Yes, it appears that religious assnuggets have made their way to the Great White North and they want to make us believe in the truth of Jebus, stop killing seals, and change our trademark "eh" to "eh-men".

We should promote and popularize the "War on Atheists". Of course, if that happened, the Christian Right in both Canada and the U.S. would not only not deny it, they'd take up the fight with vigor. They just don't believe that atheists can be moral without their superstitions. Slavoj Zizek said recently in the NY Times, "When I do a good deed, I do so not with an eye toward gaining God's favor; I do it because if I did not, I could not look at myself in the mirror. A moral deed is by definition its own reward." Precisely.

There is no need for me to go into all the reasons that "intelligent" design is wrong and full of...what's that term? Crap. Right. I was, however, in my car checking out CBC radio yesterday and there was a letter read from a listener who said something to the effect of, "...evolution isn't the only theory out there, so we should be exposed to various theories - that's how we get smarter." Basically, that's what the guy said.

I don't know how many times I'm going to have to explain the difference between "theory" in common language and "theory" in scientific language. When Ralph and Potsie had a "theory" that Fonzie still couldn't see, and they took his motorcycle apart again as a practical joke, only to find out that Fonzie's vision returned in full - that is the the common definition of theory. A scientific theory has to stand up to evidence, it has to conform to what we see around us and explain things. It has to make predictions. Oh, and it usually isn't based on the writings in a 2000 year-old book. Religious folks just don't understand that, "...this is real complicated...musta been Jesus done it...", is not acceptable in science.

Jesus certainly can't explain my goddamn ear-hair.

Monday, April 03, 2006

...All Leather Cow Interior and Big Brown Baby Seal Eyes for Headlights...

I believe that Pam Anderson knows everything. I also believe that if Lisa Simpson grew up in reality and was parented by David Hasselhoff and Lindsay Wagner, she'd be just like Pammy. Principled and loud with not a trace of actual substance anywhere, from surface perfect skin to the hollow soul that is controlled by Ingrid Newkirk's alien tentacle.

Pammy Two-Tits hosted the Canadian equal to the Grammys last night, the Junos, in my hometown, Halifax. By most accounts, she was as she always is: vapid, useless, and completely devoid of anything but a beluga tank's worth of saline. Do you think it would be possible to make her tit-skin transparent so that we could put Sea-Monkeys in there to watch? FOX would make a reality tv show about that in half a minute. The Sea Monkeys, that is.

Of course she brought up the seal hunt. When all you have is a one track mind and there's no chance of having sex with an over-the-hill "rockstar" anytime soon, you have to go back to your programming. It's like a bear going for a nice fillet of salmon and you clapping your hands. The bear will stop for a second and look at you, but the primary goal will remain "get the salmon". Pam said that she likes hockey and even a little blood on the ice, as long as it's a hockey rink, not seal brains on an ice floe. Something like that. She got booed and instantly changed the subject.

It would have been better if she did a Sinead O'Connor and just walked off the stage (and out of public life forever?! Please?! A guy can dream, can't he?). Nope, the maker of such cinematic classics as Barbed Wire made a comment about Seal not attending the show because he was scared of being clubbed to death. You have to be a genius to be able to use subtlety like that. Of course, when Jann Arden said that she wanted the audience to know that she was wearing a bra made entirely of seal eyelids, everything snapped into focus. Pam was just setting up Jann's joke! She was playing Dickie Smothers to Jann's Tommy! Genius!

Ok, enough of that. Whether you like the seal hunt or not, when you're the host of an award show, that's not the time to break out the sledge-hammer of political activity. It is painfully obvious that Anderson was chosen because of her tits and Canadian citizenship, but the woman can barely put a sentence together without spouting some innane PETA talking point. Aren't hosts supposed to be quick on their feet and, at the very least, eloquent? Pam belongs on a poster or in a stolen honeymoon video with a tattooed pee-noss in her cakehole, not on any sort of stage, in front of a live audience. Man, what were they thinking?

I know that Pam wants to be taken seriously and that she requested a meeting with Stephen Harper to talk about the hunt. Obviously, Harper didn't make the meeting. The thing is, if Pam wants to be taken seriously, maybe she should read all sides of the issue (read?) and then make up her mind so that she can intelligently discuss the pertinent points. See, once you get outside of Magic-Film-Land where people kiss your ass for no good reason, you actually have to possess some semblance of knowledge about your chosen pet project.

Imagine if you will, I want to discuss children's rights with the Children's Aid Society but the only "authority" I've talked to or read the opinion of is Michael Jackson. Think I'll get far? Yeah, I doubt it too.

PETA is disingenuous in their marketing/protesting by showing pictures of baby whitecoats, which are illegal to kill in the hunt and have been for some time now. They show video of sealers clubbing, which looks brutal - because it is. The same way the hamburger that you cook every weekend is slaughtered, so are the seals. The only difference is that the slaughterhouse is behind closed doors and the hunt is out in the open. If you can't deal with hunting, don't do it. Don't want to wear fur, don't. The Canadian seal hunt is sustainable, humane, transparent, and environmentally conscious, unlike Pam's tits.

I would much rather see Jann Arden's bra.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Baby Jesus Loves Ball-less Opera

I'm a competitive person. Once I get in some sort of contest, I really try my best to win. Yesterday I played in a Texas Hold 'Em tournament and out of 30 or so people, I made it to the final table and placed sixth and I was sort of upset that I didn't finish in a prize position (top three). It was my second tournament and I had no real business being anywhere near a final table, but hey, the competitive urge kicks in and you focus and you get lucky and there you are. Statistics, psychology, and probability are a wonderful thing.

That being said, let's say I was living in the late 1600's and I'm twelve years old. Let's also say I had a pretty darn fine singing voice and my coach says to me, "Mike, you have a beautiful voice and we'd like you to be a soprano or mezzo soprano playing women in operas. As you know, women are not allowed on stage and since you have such a fab set of pipes, we think you should stay like you are forever. Whaddaya say?"

Well, back then you might have said, "Yeah, sure" and gone on to be a superstar. They'd take your balls and cut them off so your voice would stay forever high and beautiful, the pre-pubescent lack of hormones would never change but you'd grow into the grown man lung power to pump out your girly, Mike Tyson-ish voice to the cheap seats.

Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? And back then, how the fuggidy fuck did they first figure out that cutting a kid's balls off would keep his voice high? What weirdy little decadearian volunteered his figs for amputation in the name of art? Now that kid was competitive. I got nothin' on that kid. I don't care if you say I'll sing like Andrea Boccelli, fight like Chuck Liddell, fuck like Peter North, and cook like Emeril Lagasse, I'm keeping my kiwis safe in the Spiderman underoos.

From the article: "As many as 4,000 boys were castrated annually in the service of art ... and, as pope Clement VIII said, 'to the honour of God.'" I can't even begin to wrap my brain around that statement. Four thousand boys annually. Wow. And does Clement 8's statement mean that his supposed "god" likes ball-less boys? Yeah, I know, invisible sky-man likes their voices, sure. Is there anything the fuckin' bible can't endorse?

Let's hear it for no religion and men with balls.