The Korn Files: I Want To Believe
December 13, 2011 By Leave a Comment
May or may not be Jonathan Davis. Note watermark.
Holy shit. Fuck. Guys. Guys?
Remember the band Korn? Christ! How embarrassing — me neither. We totally forgot about it!
Double-Secret Recusal
November 15, 2011 By Leave a Comment
28 U.S.C. § 455 : US Code – Section 455: Disqualification of justice, judge, or magistrate judge
(b) He shall also disqualify himself in the following circumstances:
(4) He knows that he, individually or as a fiduciary, or his spouse or minor child residing in his household, has a financial interest in the subject matter in controversy or in a party to the proceeding, or any other interest that could be substantially affected by the outcome of the proceeding;
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28 U.S.C. § 455 : US Code – Section 455: Disqualification of justice, judge, or magistrate judge
(b) He shall also disqualify himself in the following circumstances:
(3) Where he has served in governmental employment and in such capacity participated as counsel, adviser or material witness concerning the proceeding or expressed an opinion concerning the merits of the particular case in controversy;
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Opinion:
Despite what Republicans and Democrats will argue in the coming months, Supreme Court Justices Thomas and Kagan are both in violation of 28 U.S.C. § 455 and must recuse themselves from ruling on the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. In light of the clear language of 28 U.S.C. § 455 highlighted in the sections above, any attempt by the parties in question to obfuscate the issue of disqualification should be viewed as an assault on our intelligence.
Halloween, 2011
October 30, 2011 By Leave a Comment
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For me, Halloween is a bittersweet time of year. On one hand, Halloween suits my fascination with the macabre, while at the same time lacking any of the burdensome family obligations inherent in the more Jesusy holidays. But on the other bitter hand, Halloween can’t help but serve as a reminder of a certain innocence lost from American life.
Years ago, before curfews, chaperoned trick-or-treating, “fun-sized” candy bars, or mandatory sex offender notices, Halloween actually meant something. Halloween occurred after dark the night of October 31, not at 2pm the Saturday preceding at a not-so-spookily-themed FUNZONE PARTY H.Q. For children of yesteryear, the trick-or-treating wouldn’t end until the last porch light went out, the last egg was thrown, the last roll of toilet paper was hurled into the moonlit, autumnal night. There was an ambrosial magic present on this night of nights; a sense that anything could happen and probably would provided that ghouls and goblins still deemed Halloween the proper occasion to run amok.
Like so many staples of American life however, Halloween has begun to suffer, becoming sanitized and diminished in the dual names of public safety and political correctness. The very act of trick-or-treating itself has been criminalized outside the stringent and suffocating boundaries of some nannying councilwoman’s pet ordinance. The veritable cornucopia of candy that used to be the proceeds of a child’s door-to-door adventuring has been replaced with health-conscience treats, or even worse, toothbrushes. Individuals’ haunted houses and garages have been shutdown due to lack of permits. Citizens have been threatened with citations should their Halloween decorations be deemed offensive or capable of traumatizing the fragile psyches of the children. For this new breed of American youth, Halloween ends not when the last porch light goes out, but when their goodie bags have been scanned and deemed “safe” by local authorities.
But I, for one, will not be taking part in this goody-two-shoes euthanization of what used to be the greatest of holidays. Like last year, and every year back as far as I can remember, I will do my best to ensure that any child intrepid enough to brave the cold and the dark, the admonishments of weenie parents, the breathless, sensationalized warnings of local newscasters to knock on my door will be treated to Halloween as it was meant to be. Like last year, the haunted house will be in full effect. Like last year, this will consist of me being tied to the radiator while my gimp Hector whips my balls with an extension cord and I carve up the tip of my erection with a paring knife. Like last year, one lucky child will get to drink from the “Spooky Cauldron of Fun” before having his Spiderman tights ripped from his unconscious body and his luscious butthole filled with Rainbow Skittles. And like last year, each individual piece of candy will have been painstakingly unwrapped by me, covered in a load of my hot jizzum, then resealed with none the wiser.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And surely if we allow these overprotective do-gooders to succeed in the sanitization of Halloween, then the so-called “sickos” have won.
Two Boners Don’t Make a Law
March 14, 2011 By 1 Comment
I recently saw a statistic that told me that one out of two men will get cancer. One out of two. My god… my god.
But nobody cares about cancer anymore. No, there are far more important issues to be dealt with in our society today. And perhaps the most important issue that we face today…
…is Gay Rights.
Obama: Our Great Protector?
October 29, 2010 By 8 Comments
November 5, 2009. A U.S. Army major named Nidal Malik Hasan leapt onto a desk at the Fort Hood Soldier Readiness Center, shouted “Allah Akbar!” and then proceeded to pump bullets into 43 victims. 11 died at the scene, two would subsequently die at the hospital. In the aftermath, investigators found 146 spent shell casings inside the Center, with another 68 collected outside. When Hasan was finally brought down, it was discovered he was carrying an additional 177 unfired rounds of ammunition.
Those in the armed forces were shocked. A nation mourned.
Shortly after news of the shooting broke, President Obama would make an unscheduled appearance to speak about the tragedy.
“The Obama Deception”: A Savage Journey into the Heart of Alex Jones
October 18, 2010 By 4 Comments
I was somewhere around the 20 minute mark when the paranoia began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe I should turn this off…” And suddenly there was the terrible roar of Alex Jones’s voice all around me, all swooping and screeching through my brain, which was going about a hundred miles an hour to Panic Attack City. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! Who is this goddamn animal!”
But let’s go back to the beginning.
