Floppy to bring So. Cal. police justice to Iraqistan

It looks like Floppy is going to accompany Our Lady of the Concentration Camps to Iraq to prove that AP is undermining the war effort (it's not a done deal yet; Floppy may be busy washing his hair that day).

I hope he goes. Being a cop from Southern California, Floppy's certain to pull out his piece and start shooting the minute he sees that they're all brown people, and he's not going to stop until he's puts a couple of dozen rounds into every single one of them. The only thing that'll slow him down is the need to find enough "throw down" weapons to cover his butt at the shooting review board hearing.

Crichton Fights Our Other War, An Amazon Review

My Amazon review of Michael Crichton's Next (Update: It looks like Amazon removed it):

Needs more character assasination, December 15, 2006

Reviewer:

Gen. JC Christian, patriot (Tremonton, UT United States) - See all my reviews

I loved the part of this book where Crichton takes his revenge on real-life DC-based political writer Michael Crowley by fictionalizing him as "Mick Crowley," a DC-based political writer who rapes a 2 year-old child. That's the kind of viciousness we've come to expect and respect from our shining stars of the ideology-over-science movement. I bet Crowley now regrets writing "Michael Crichton's Scariest Creation," for The New Republic[an].

But why stop with Crowley? Surely other writers have offended Crichton by writing about his shameless pandering to Our Leader and the Exxon-Mobile executives who serve in his kitchen cabinet. Take Chris Moody of Mother Jones for example. Why don't we see a character in "Next" named Christopher Moody who rapes nursing home patients?

And why aren't there any characters in this book who are based on Crichton's heroes, people like Sen. James Inhofe, who compared global warming scientists to Nazis. Surely, there was room for a character named Sen. Jim Inhofe, a genius of Einsteinesque proportions. Heck, if he could have pulled that off, Crichton would undoubtedly be the greatest fiction author of all time.

Elsewhere: Thingwarbler is a cheese-eating surrender monkey.

The General guest blogs for Tom DeLay

I answered Tom Delay's call for guestbloggers:

I publish a fairly popular blog called Jesus' General. I'd like to guestblog for Mr. DeLay. I am not a homosexual.

I'll let you know when my first post is up.

Conservative Values

Our values are important to us. That's why we support Tom DeLay, the man who brought a free market approach to legislating.


Patriotbloggers at a recent event held by Tom DeLay



As Rep. William Jefferson learned recently, the francosphere does not share our values.

I Pack the Meat That Todo el Mundo Eat

SO THERE I WAS, doing what all the top-rated Mexican Americans do on a Wednesday, por supuesto. Just sort of lazily, self-indulgently and unproductively massaging my seductively oily forehead and leaning against a choice telephone pole on the corner. I thought to myself, "It sure would be nice if I had some work. You know? But really, it would be nicer if I didn't." And with each gentle nudge of my temple, I willed all potential employers far away from the curb underneath my wing tips.

The sun glinted off of my cholo-stylie shades and in the still and warm morning, I was content to reflect upon the day while stroking my elegantly-angled mustachio. I could hear a small plane humming in the distance and as I cocked my ear to fully absorb the sound, I found myself (idly) hoping I could start my siesta early. The excitement of the morning was wearing down what little urge I had to contribute to national productivity. And after all, I had to take care of myself. This is very important for Americans. I know. I have a TV. Many expensive lotions and powders and creams and medicines and foods are needed to nurture an hombre's comfort. And it was almost time for my 10 am application of Peaches and Cream.

As I watched the tumbleweeds roll by, I reflected on how fantastico it is that mi papá was born in America (instead of in Mexico, like mi abuelo) and that we (and my family line) have been given such a glorious chance to not live in Mexico and to have a shot at the Great American Dream Life. And this is a thought that regularly occurs to me.

I usually engage in this bit of Mexican Reflection on Wednesdays, and usually near the meat-packing plant up the road from my pad. Because that's where I chill, you know?

Truth is, us Mexicans love meat-packing. Despite the notions to the contrary. Ay, Dios mio, we love it! Mmm-mmm-mmm. Personally, I could pack meat all the live-long day. And that's why so many of us would do just about anything to snag such an esteemed position. I mean it can be a very tough decision, choosing between a life of meat-packing, spinach-yanking, yardwork, and hotel-room cleaning. I have solved this particular dilemma by devoting my life to the maintenance of a very beautiful mustache, and letting other less-important considerations sort of drift. Let history be the decider of who was gainfully employed and who was a ladrón—a thief—stealing from the American people, ¿qué no?

Suddenly, as I was feeling the warming effects of such thoughts spread throughout my entire being like a tidal habanero tingle, La Migra entered the driveway, many vans jamming the space.

ICE vans filled with armed and hostile men and women tipped into the parking lot, and emptied. A clumping cluster of intense jackbooted individuals hit the pavement, one after another. I watched them flood the sidewalk with their dark uniforms, their guns, cuffs, opaque shades, and was immediately furious that all the dust from their spinning tires and flappy movements was clouding up my sunny moment. For a moment I honestly considered crossing to the other side of the street, but found I just didn't have the energy for such a massive effort.

So I relaxed back into my lean. And dug down into my empathy bag a little as I watched the stormtroopers approach the warehouse from multiple sides. What a shame. What a shame, I thought, desiring a tall, icy, well-sweetened slurpee drink. These particular Mexicanos had finally reached the pinnacle of happiness—a life working for humble wages doing mindless American labor in the shadows—and here was Uncle Alberto to take it all away. I sighed. At leeest they were able to feeeel like hard-working, tax-paying Americans for a leeetle while, I thought to myself in a thick Spanish "Three Amigos" type accent. And it was true. Nobody could take that away.

It seemed like the ideal moment for that slurpee. So I bopped up off the telephone pole and prepared to make my way to the nearest 7-11. I figured there was just too much activity on the main road, so I skipped across the property and came out on a parallel street. I spotted a convenience store in the distance, and began to make my way there. It was only then that I noticed one of the ICE vans coming up the road, probably lagging behind the earlier ones. I was walking casually, and not as if in a hurry, but the van did not pass me. It pulled over right as it reached me, so I stood and waited for them to roll down the window. It opened, but only for six inches or so.

A face with black sunglasses appeared in the dim slit. It spoke.

"Where you going? You work at the plant?"

"No, Señohhhhr," I began, to my own horror. I was using my internal Three Amigos® voice out loud! I cleared my throat. "Sorry, officer. Heh. Just, you know. Thinking of a movie I was watching on my General Electric television the other day. It was given to me by my maternal grandmother."

The cop did not move but only stared.

"She was born in New York," I said thoughtfully. "While I was born in California. Interesting."

The cop could have been an angry painting.

"I know all this self-reflection is quite American," I continued, grinning widely so my well-polished teeth could show. The cop seemed to be waiting.

"I hate meat! And those who pack it!" I yelled, happily. I made a "yukky spinach face" to the stoic agent of government. "I WAS ACCEPTED TO CORNELL!"

The face lifted its welder-grade sunglasses a millimeter and peered at my arm.

"You look brown," it said, flatly.

"I, I, I'm part Saudi-Arabian!" I said, suddenly wishing I had different headgear.

"Then what are you doing in such a poor area? And why are you wearing a sombrero?" La Migra asked, gruffly.

I swept the hat off my head with mock-horror.

"I knew that man was not just 'patting my head as a friend'!" I said, smoothing my hair, as I thought carefully. The well-sweetened slurpee was screaming over all the traffic noise, but I knew I had been asked a very important question and I had to concentrate. The answer could mean the difference between going home and who knows what awaited those poor meat-packers.

"Well, Mi-er, officer, I'm on my way to the garage. I just had my Jag winterized. Then, I have to pick up my wife for her Botox appointment, and we're going to get our twins put on Ritalin for their birthday."

There was a mumble from the back of the van. The window rolled up, and it sped away.

I could only sigh with relief as my heart pounded all to hell inside my chest. After a moment, I leaned down and picked up my fine sombrero and placed it back onto my well-coiffed hair. I twirled my mustachio three times for good luck, mumbled a prayer to the Virgen de Guadalupe, and then, such as was my destiny on that fine day, I thanked God I was an American and set out for my luscious dessert.

---

Nezua Limón Xolagrafik-Jonez blogs as The Unapologetic Mexican and never, ever drinks Slurpees.

-

The Story That Changes the World

WE WONDER HOW TO CHANGE THE WORLD and we often assume this means something huge and unattainable by mortal beings. "Changing the world" is a phrase for simpering, bleeding-hearts, and pleas from deranged protestors pounding at the White House gates. It's a puffed-up lyric from a Disney® flick, or a syrupy snatch of phrasing from a Michael Jackson song. It's not something we take seriously, perhaps, in our everyday, pragmatic lives. And I wonder why that is. I wonder why we feel that way.

MEXICO CITY — A group of about 300 Mazahua Indians briefly seized a water treatment plant on Mexico City's western outskirts Wednesday and temporarily cut off one of the main sources of water for the metropolis of 18 million people, the National Water Commission said.

The protest was motivated by demands for more government development aid, local media reported.

—chron.com

Here is an inspiring story. It reminds you of the Boston Tea Party, even. I wish humans as brave, committed, and self-motivated as the Mazahua Indians would not resort to petitioning a government (even by such effective means) and would just make their own way to self-rule and sustenance. But not everyone is like the Patriots who tore away from the British. However, in both cases, it seems the actor's deeds were necessary reactions to their own government. And if a supposed benefactor is killing off your means to live, what options are left to you? I suppose you could retreat. Or type something out in a blistering blogspotty blitz of benificence, hoping to spark change—although I'm not sure how many of the Mazahua Indians have a blogspot account or Internet access.

Perhaps that is why they took this unusual step of fighting—very practically—for their rights.

The protesters live in the watershed of the Cutzamala River in the high, pine-covered mountains west of Mexico City.[...]

In September 2004, the same group staged a similar protest, blocking chlorine deliveries but not stopping the water supply. They were demanding damage payments for reservoir overflows that damaged crops, as well as money for rural development projects and drinking water systems for their own communities.

—chron.com

You have to love those Mazahua Indians. And the original Patriots who stood up for their rights, despite the tyrannical laws that sought to oppress them. You have to love all non-hypnotized humans who remain close to the core of their power as intelligent, spiritual, self-confident animals. Heart, body, mind, community. All of it. Humans who have kept their sense and do not offer automatic deference to a building, a badge, a paper, a rule, or a gang that acts immorally and justifies it with verbiage; a human who knows Wrong when they see it, and knows Right when they know it. These are things that Zapata, Socrates, Jesus, Nietszche, Che, Dolores Huerta, Emma Tenayuca, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Thomas Paine, and Henry David Thoreau all understood and put to use in their own ways. But you and I are not like these people, perhaps. No, we are too often taught of great deeds and great thinking, and have been led to believe it is but "literature,"; safely enveloped in a "curriculum." They are "ideals" that can be discerned with a course in Great Books. You can be graded upon your understanding that you need no liaison or interpreter or controller, but then you leave that knowledge at the door. (Unlike those writers and heroes.) We graduate, and then we go find a clock to punch. And we punch it daily. Until there isn't even anger in the arm anymore. Just a tired habit. Our conversations in the workplace and in the street have little to do with anything we once read while sitting in school library sunbeams.

We need more stories for each other—and especially children—that remind us of our innate power as both dreamers and doers—and of the importance of banding together to act for Good. How many times have we seen a mass of people abused and exploited by the Few? How many times over does this play out in the world? It is easy to lose count. And the institutions in power and fed by our acquiesence are very happy to lose count. And to help us believe in our own helplessness and passivity and deference. And the time may be coming when we need to be able to reach inside ourselves and reference more empowering narratives.

If we really want to change the world, we need to start with the children. Not the corrupt cats already in office and already wed to a destructive and hypnotizing system. Not the scared adults who work backward, rationalizing all their consequences to support their desired actions. We need to get to the children, who have huge hearts, and able minds, and hands that are so powerful they will move mountains. In time. But first, these young minds need true understanding. Not brains that are crippled by advertising, installed desires, pharmaceutical fixes, fake history, and self-destructive lessons in abdication and hopelessness.

We have many well-loved and well-maintained fables that tell of a Superman, a Batman, a Spider-Man, a Neo, an Ahnold, a Peter Pan—a single amazing (male) hero, and I suppose this is very American. This hero often saves other people who cannot save themselves, and he can see beyond what those people can see, let alone do what they cannot do for themselves. I suppose this is very Neo-Liberal (and of course NeoCon, as well). These are the stories we use to prepare new humans for the combine; for the belief in a grand, exceptional hyperpower based on the almighty individual and his own uncontested view of the world and all that needs be done to maintain that mechanism.

But the Mazahua Indians acted together, and in the article I linked to, I see no Super Indian quoted. I see no Hyper Indian who sweeps down and saves the other wailing indians from their own fate. I see a group of people who knew they were being hurt by others. And who acted together to change this. The women and men in Oaxaca acted in concert and in the photos I've seen, it is simply a large, committed and empassioned crowd. The People always have each other and themselves. And leaders they choose to fulfill their own agenda. The idea in America is that we choose the leaders that do well for us. Not that we are but sheep to be shorn and eaten when convenient to the farmers who herd us.

We must—at once, and in tangible and concrete ways—turn our backs on the constant onslaught of television and subtle but widespread programming in America that sets up this wonderful crazy-making double bind teaching us both how special White Americans are and how stupid the human being (in general) is. Our popular ocean of media messaging does this by fashioning messages for idiots, by teaching us that we are filled with bland and crass material goals; that we are spiritually weak (or empty), that women need men to be happy; that men are half-human and half-jerkbrute; that both need each other and two degrees and six figures and a mortgage and their very own bundle of debt to be happy; that you are physically decaying every moment and in need of Big Pharma, the State, the Tube, the Taxman, the Good Book and the Big Daddy to hold you together long enough for you to do your part to adopt a starving African baby and teach it The Pledge of Convenience.

Watch some TV (I don't have it anymore): even watch some of your favorite shows or (especially Disney) movies, and really pay attention. The frameworks they are setting up using symbols, colors, names, and narratives are sickening. It's no wonder people grow up to be passive haters and followers, thoughtless saluters and secret racists destroyed by a thousand false lines of logic and time-release death in the shape of good product. It's no wonder we all go mad in this place. It's no wonder we sit around watching things crumble and darken, and do nothing but deny it. We do what we're taught we can do.

In late 2004, the government gave [the Mazahua Indians] almost $120,000 in damage payments, promised to build water systems for them and gave them grants for thousands of Christmas tree seedlings to plant for income.

—chron.com

How ought the story end the next time? To whom will you tell it? Will you listen, yourself?

---

Nezua Limón Xolagrafik-Jonez blogs as The Unapologetic Mexican and sometimes cooks soup for sick generals.

-

It's a Code Orange Christmas

GOTV

It's a terrible shame that In Search of Utopia has passed the "let's bomb Venezuela blogs" in the Weblog Awards voting, but at lease he's still behind the "let's bomb Oaxaca and Cuba blogs." If you haven't voted yet today, please do so now. Update: Come on people. I know there are at least 9000 people reading this right now who haven't voted yet. Just two click is all it takes. Do you want me to drum you out of the Red Guard of the Glorious Conservative Christian Cultural Revolution!)

Praise the Lord. Bérubé is still behind the home schoolers. They're training a whole passle of little Bens to be tomorrow's keyboard warriors. This one's close. Please vote.

Stop the ACLU is battling Orcinus for third place, here. Strike a blow for authoritarianism.

I've got to go to C&L (who, unfortunately, is destroying Our Lady of the Concentration Camp's Hot Air in the Weblogs voting, but she can still turn things around) to destroy Red State: the Movie now, but I'll be back with more commands to vote later.

Think pink (floyd), and vote for David Gilmour, yes that David Gilmour, here.

And let's not forget Blue Gal.

Going ultra French

Michael Shea of Red State, the movie I called "the most dangerous film in America," will be at Crooks and Liars today at 2pm PST (5pm EST). Drop in and tell him he's going to hell...or something. I'll be there to cough on him through the internet tubes.

I used some clips from Red State to make this video:



I urge you to buy Red State and burn it.

A patriot responds to news of Sen. Johnson's health issues

A little Right-Thinking from the Left Coast:

He Be Strokin'

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe God does want a Republican majority in the Senate.

[...]

While anyone suffering a stroke is a tragic event, how fucking hilarious would it be if the Democrats lost control of the Senate right before they were to assume power? I'd laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh...

Update: His staff is now saying no stroke. Stay tuned to see if this is really nothing or if the Democrat politburo is pulling a Fidel Castro.

Helmet tip to reader Dan.

And now for something completely different: The god-fearing patriots at the Free Republic offer tips to a parent whose son is experimenting with the devil's weed:

To: Ben Chad

Overnight UNSUPERVISED stay in jail.
And a stay in the 'drunk tank' with the guys who are screaming out of their heads 'tripping daisies' stoned.

4 posted on 12/14/2006 9:37:18 AM PST by Darksheare ("I fear your smile and the promise it hides." See, she LOVES me!)

[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies ]

To: Ben Chad

Any father?

If not, sick the police on him.

11 posted on 12/14/2006 9:41:13 AM PST by LdSentinal

[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies ]

To: Ben Chad

You could start with these

20 posted on 12/14/2006 9:51:18 AM PST by WackySam ("There's room for all God's creatures- right next to the taters")

[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies ]

To: Ben Chad

[...]

Remove everything from his room except three pair of jeans, three white shirts, underwear, and the mattress.

Search what's left in the room daily, or more frequently.

29 posted on 12/14/2006 9:58:14 AM PST by Xenalyte (Anything is possible when you don't understand how anything happens.)

[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 1 | View Replies ]

Good advice, especially the part about turning the kid into the police. That worked for me; one trip to jail, and I was off pot within ten years. I met a lot of good role models while I was locked up, better people than I would have met in the Navy had they not rejected me because of my record. And if I would have waited to go to college a while longer, my record would have prevented me from being exposed to all those liberal ideas.

Even more different: As I noted in the comments, I think I have the flu and I'm having difficulty concentrating because I feel like crap. Please forgive my drive-by posting.

Nez has been kind enough to accept my plea for help. If any of the other occasional guest posters would like to pitch in for the next day or so, you're welcome to do so as well.

ICE, ICE, baby

Nez hates America and Our Lady of the Concentration Camps.

I'm exhausted and not feeling too well. I hope you'll forgive the abbreviated post tonight.

Small men, big cars, and soy-based food products

James Rutz
MegaShift Ministries

Dear Mr. Rutz,

Let me begin by saying that I'm in complete agreement with your conclusions about the dangers soy-based foods pose to the public. I was given a soy-based nursing supplement as a baby, and although my little soldier is normal in size--despite what the wicked feminists might call normal in their magazines--and I'm 110% heterosexual--really, I am, dammit--I don't doubt your claim that "[s]oy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality."

I do however disagree with your solution to the problem. Dropping soy from the American diet is not the answer. America's agribusiness heroes deserve better from us. The same goes for our automobile and oil industries as well. If we stop feeding soy products to our manchildren, who's going to buy tomorrow's Hummers, Dodge Rams, and Ford Excursions? After all, there'll be no incentive to spend that kind of money on a big, expensive, powerful vehicle if every guy is packing one of those huge, Italian 3+" man-cannons in his briefs. Men compensating for tiny thingies are what drive the American automobile market. The auto companies would need to retool without it.

I think it might be better to feed our manchildren even more soy so that the nation's agribusiness, auto, and oil corporations can provide even bigger dividends to their stockholders. It's what Our Leader's ownership society is all about.

We can handle the homosexual part of it by requiring our educational system to teach our manchildren about baseball and how to do an oil change. That's the best way to prevent homosexuality. If that doesn't work we can always hook them up to an electrical generator for a little aversion therapy like they do at Mitt Romney's church.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot

A few words about the Weblog Awards

My inner Frenchman stepping in.

I tend to generally agree with what Monsieur Gilliard says about the Weblog Awards. They're meaningless. That's why I have fun screwing with them. Still, I am competitive and vain enough that I wouldn't want to be embarrassed, hence the graphics at the top and bottom of the page.

I am more than a little embarrassed to be put in the Best Liberal Blog category this year. I don't feel like JG is a typical liberal blog and it angers me that the committee put me there while overlooking truly great liberal blogs and bloggers like Glenn Greenwald, Billmon (who, sadly, is on another sabbatical), Orcinus, firedoglake, Ezra Klein, and C&L. I shouldn't be there, and I certainly shouldn't have more votes than Pandagon or Shakesphere's Sister or any of the others. Good God, I'm nipping at Atrios' heels. How screwed up is that? I am glad to see Digby doing so well. He deserves it.

I think the committee put me in that category as payback for the fun we had nominating JG for Best Conservative Blog. As far as I know, I received only one nomination in the liberal category, and that came from the a conservative who fancies himself to be a pirate--he was angry about all the nominations I received in the conservative category.

One of the most ironic things about the Weblogs is that the committees, whose members are mostly conservative (Wizbang is behind it and since most of the early promotion of the annual event occurs there, the universe of applicants certainly tilts to the right) are so loathe to put liberals into the finals, they usually only place one or two in each category, thus concentrating the liberal vote.

I think it'd be fun to take advantage of that again this year, and I hope you'll join me in ensuring that someone like The Moderate Voice beats Ann Althouse in the Best Centrist Blog category.

And you might also consider:

In Search of Utopia over the let's bomb the hell out of Cuba/Venezuela/Oaxaca crowd.

And, of course Greenwald and Majiktise for best individual blog.

Do I even have to say anything about the race between Crooks and Liars and Our Lady of The Concentration Camps' video blog?

I haven't seen any of the new blogs before now except Biggus Dickus's Blue Crab Boulevard. I hope WIMN'S Voices kicks his ass. They'll need a lot of help to do it.

Street Prophets and Kos for Best Online Community. (Should I look into going with Scoop so you can all do diaries?)

Kos over Little Green Racists.

Sadly No looks like a shoe-in for the award I won last year, but Jon Swift could use your help. A one-two finish would be great.

I like Raw Story but Walcott also deserves some love.

Voting for Balkinization is a no-brainer considering its Gilbertarian opposition.

Gay Patriot? You have to be kidding. Pam's House Blend and Towel Road would make another great one-two combination. The fact that neither Americablog or BlogActive are listed is the best evidence yet that I'm right about the committees.

Let's keep Bérubé and his e-thingies on top of the Best Educational Blog category.

The Bad Astronomer needs help overcoming Pharyngula's tentacles for another one-two punch. Where's the The Disgruntled Chemist?

For whom should we vote to beat Confederate Wankee and Floppy Asses?

Orcinus, Talk Left, and Feministe should place first second and third (and they all should have replaced me in the Best Liberal Blog category).

And let's help out Blue Gal.

Don't forget to vote every day.

Elsewhere: The Poorman's Golden Winger nominations are now open.

Isn't it time your town adopted a Jesus-only ordinance?

Stephen Vengrow
City Councilman
New Providence, New Jersey

Dear Councilman Vengrow,

I know you've taken a lot of heat for the remarks you made during the council meeting a few months back, but darn it, you were right to speak out against the city purchasing a Hanukkah banner, declaring: "This town is a white Christian town in a Christian nation." It's about time someone reminded the Jews, Hindus, Mormons, Buddhists, and other guest-Americans that this is our country and they better start getting with the program.

Now it's time for you to take the next step and deny public services to anyone who refuses to kneel down and pray to Jesus. I know that sounds radical, but it really isn't that much different than what happens when a city passes an English-only ordinance. After all, English-only ordinances deny services to anyone who can't fill out a city form written in English. You'd just be extending that kind of patriotic discrimination to include anyone who doesn't pray to the Lord.

Implementing it shouldn't be too hard. Just set up a statue of Jesus in the City Clerks office, require everyone to pray in front of it every couple of years, and issue them a Certificate of Piety to show firemen, cops, etc whenever they need to use city services. Heck, you could probably make it even easier by strapping one of those flat Jesuses on the sides of all your garbage trucks and instructing your drivers to stop only at houses that have people praying in front of them.

I hope you'll consider it.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot

Helmet tip: NJDC.

The American Decency Association fuels my lust train to Hell

Bill Johnson
American Decency Association

Dear Mr. Johnson,

I finally shot an email off to McDonalds complaining about their sponsorship of the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. I say "finally" because it took me four days to write it. I just couldn't quite get past the part of your sample letter where you wrote:

The women used their bodies to lure and entice while the camera focused in on barely covered crotches and breasts, mostly bare bottoms, and cleavage.

The imagery of that sentence is so vivid, it sent me into a hellish spiral of impure thoughts every time I read it. Heck, I copied and pasted the above quote to this email seven hours ago, and it's taken me this long to expend enough energy liberating spermatazoan-Americans to be able to write this paragraph. I bet I've taken three full mason jars of these tiniest Americans down to the cellar for storage.

That's the hell your sample letter has put me through for the last four days. It's been one unending cycle of reading the sample letter, having impure thoughts, liberating spermatazoan-Americans, and making trips back and forth to Seattle to redeem myself by visiting the man who spanks naughty men for money. If it wasn't for his Terrible Spatula of Redemption, I'd be hellbound for sure.

Please take a few minutes to edit the sample letter so that others do not repeat my experience. Perhaps it could be rewritten to say this: "The ladies flaunted their lady parts in a way that was lustful in nature.

Damn you. Damn you to Hell. That little bit of editing cost me another three hours of spermatazoan-American liberation. My poor little soldier is now rubbed so raw he's bleeding. I doubt he'll ever be the same again--heck it takes ten of Limbaugh's Little Love Pills to get him to stand at attention on my very best days as it is--today's action ain't going to help. I just pray to God that I won't also go blind.

Heterosexually yours,

Gen. JC Christian, patriot

The reviews are in

My fellow patriots review my celebration of Bush Family Values, The Fighting First Family:

brian38383838 | December 10, 2006
you are a lying scumbag, you are everything the demo-rats represent. You liberal jackass

johnnyjohnny (3 hours ago)

I love their family. I wish I was related. Looks like you envy them quite a lot as you took the time to look up some history on each in the picture. That's the kinda thing that's creepy to me...I think you're a serial killer.

Spectres (2 minutes ago)

Patrioit cocksucker...why don't you do a video on the Kennedy Klan?

I wish painful death to all you anti-Americans. I pray for the draft to be reinstated so your sons can be beheaded by one of your Muslim friends.

You libs are so out of touch with this countries real problems. It's>>>YOU...and your support of faggot rights and the breakdown of the family.

Die you motherfuckers.

smakkkkk (16 minutes ago)

This video was made by communists.

mth71 (1 hour ago)

Liberal Fag - you are a disgrace to America.

Here's the video again:

A dream extinguished

Although I'm saddened by Our Leader's loss of his role model, I think He's already learned almost everything Pinochet had to share.

Talking about books at FDL

I'll be talking about books over at Jane's place in a few minutes (2 pm PST).

Defending American Freedom vs. Defending American Consumption: Going to War on Behalf of Oil, Gas, and Energy

_{Image © Austin Cline
Original Poster: National Archives
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Is it right or wrong to send American troops into harm’s way in order to defend access to oil, thus hopefully keeping oil prices lower and thereby reducing the overall energy costs in the American economy? Most people here will likely be quick to answer this question in the negative, but I think that the issue is a bit too complicated for such a quick response. It may be the best answer in the end, but how we get to that answer is just as important as getting the right answer.

First, let’s address those aspects which may run against to how people might think about this: it’s not inherently wrong to use the military to defend America’s economic interests. On the contrary, if anything justifies the use of America’s military, defending the health of the economy has to qualify. Perhaps the very first use of American military power overseas was precisely for that reason: we sent ships, part of a new navy created for exactly this purpose, against the Barbary Pirates in the Mediterranean (notice the geographic proximity to current international trouble).

There seems to be an assumption that it’s OK to send the military for “altruistic” reasons (defend a group against unprovoked attack) but not for “selfish” reasons (defend the American economy). I don’t think that this is the right way to approach the matter; instead, it might be better to draw from traditional notions of “just war” and look at the proportionality of the American response. Whether we use the military or something like economic pressure, in both cases of defending others against attack and defending the American economy it’s possible to use too much force relative to the threat.

If a small country is invaded by a larger one, it may be appropriate for America to send military help — but it’s also possible for America to respond with much more force than is ethically justified. If something is happening elsewhere that threatens the American economy, it may be that America could respond with a very light military or diplomatic touch that is well within ethical limits. It’s not the use of military force that should be the focus, but whether the amount of force goes further than what is ethically licit (of course, by its very nature military force may go "too far" more quickly than economic pressure).

As part of this ethical calculation we must take into consideration what our goals or expectations are. If our goal is to simply protect access to energy sources and thereby prevent economies from collapsing (for example, if someone wanted to detonate nuclear weapons to irradiate and ruin major oil fields), that’s easy to defend. On the other hand, if our goal is to protect access to cheap oil and thereby maintain a high standard of living in America while keeping others in poverty, that’s hard to defend. All of this holds true whether the military is involved or not.

Unfortunately, there seem to be some who are willing to accept situations like the second example. While it may be fair to consider using the military when it comes to economic interests, it’s not fair to do so without looking seriously at both our goals and the outcome of our actions. We don’t have a right to cheap gas that is sold by authoritarian regimes which keep their people in ignorance and poverty while keeping the profits from oil for a few wealthy people at the top. The market for oil is getting tighter as nations like India and China increase their demands, and there’s nothing we can do to stop that. Energy prices are going to increase over time, but maybe we have a chance now to investigate and develop alternatives before things get worse and demands for illicit use of the military abroad grow — perhaps becoming too strong for some to resist.

Again.