Distress on the Highway

Just a quick bit of anger today, before I go out and enjoy this most wonderful day. I was down in Portland the other afternoon picking up a truck cap. Thanks Will and Lindsay. Osama bin Forgotten. Stopped for a beer at that fake Irish joint called Ri Ra. Hit the highway heading north and tuned the radio to 100.3 fm. No, not KIT out of Bangor, but the other one - HEB out of Portsmouth.

So these douche bags are on there talking, two DJ's with douche bag fake redneck accents. So I assume that the skit is a joke or something. Bring the troops home. Not true, they're going over real news about the world, including Nascar and basketball, etc. Domestic news in the nasally voice, but it's all real stuff that's really happening. Then they get to the global front and I shit you not:

"It looks like Marines are to blame for the deaths of 12 civilians in Iraq. Can I just say this? War is hell. I don't blame those guys for doing what they're doing over there, even if it's killing innocent civilians."

Fuck me, I almost decapitated a tree. FCC tells me that I can't say tits on the radio, but that jackass can say that? I'm all for free speech, tempered by decency. That being said, Fuck Clear Channel in the ass with rusty meat hook.

W Finally Shows Some Feeling

Rumsfeld is reporting to the President and the Cabinet. He says, "Three Brazilian soldiers were killed today in Iraq."

The President says, "Oh, my God!" as he buries his head in his hands.

The entire Cabinet is stunned. Usually George Bush shows no reaction whatsoever to these reports.

Just then, Bush looks up and says, "How many is a brazilian?"

Kenny Boy, Novak, and Memorial Day

Surprise, surprise. Ken Lay, defrauder general of Enron, destroyer of 4,000 jobs, fleecing of pensions, and lying sack of shit still believes he's innocent. The jury did not agree, and found him guilty on all counts. I wonder if old W. will extend the olive branch of presidential pardon? Somehow, I see it in the works. Lay gives a lot of money to the Republicans. Maybe he can even be appointed to head the Federal Reserve. I must ask, however, if two guilty verdicts are enough; clearly there a whole mob of people complicit in these activities that are jumping for joy, still free to roam corporate America and steal again.

Do yourself a favor, and check this out. Read it, or listen ... pretty amazing stuff.

Also, this just in. Robert Novak promised Karl Rove that he would protect Rove in the event of any investigation into the leak. Who knew.

Now that Hayden has been confirmed as CIA director, I'll probably get arrested immediately if I say that for this memorial day we should honor the dead soldiers of this country by bringing those who are still alive and in harm's way home from Iraq, so their names are not added to the lists of dead.

DeLay Hitting the Crack Pipe Again

Thanks to Zach for bringing this to my attention. DeLay is an idiot. Maybe I'll see him in jail when the NSA comes for me.

Google Amuses Me

Can I say how amused I am that I just ran spell check on my last post, and the dictionary on Blogger thinks that 'blog' and 'blogging' were misspelled?

And here we thought Google was amazing.

Even Goods?

Clearly, Goody's new job has restored at least enough of his creativity to type his blog at 360.yahoo.com instead of lame code at maine.gov Which, by the way, is a URL that doesn't work even though there are stickers plastered all over the state that say that it should. Impeach W. As a side note, I'm not surprised that he left, I'm glad he did.

Which lead me to the push topic (see Goody's blog above). I agree in many ways with what he said. The NSA sucks. Like Goodwin, I feel somewhat ashamed that a blog is the way that I interact with people. Alito is a right-wing scumbag. Although at this point there are still relatively few of my friends who write blogs. Cheney is devil-spawned. I'd like to add however that my blogging is not only to create an outlet (venting, if you will) but also to give you all the ability to to shut off the feed, stop my pushing, throw up your hands in exasperation.

For instance, I think everyone will agree that it is better that I don't call once a week and rant about W. and his war for money, healthcare, and the 400 million dollars that the retiring CEO of Exxon just got for himself. Car bomb. If you don't care it won't hurt my feelings (that much), just don't read my f-ing blog. That's a lot better for everyone (including my ego), since it would be slightly painful to be told "shut the hell up" during my weekly phone call.

On the other hand, I do believe that the dispersonalization of communication, especially email and txt messages, are a horrible tragedy for the world. When was the last time any of you wrote a letter to someone? I love Condoleeza Rice with an un-natural passion. I can tell you that I haven't since January. (I still try to write the old fashioned thank-you letters, but other than that...)

Depersonalized communication shows that you care enough to do the absolute minimum. Like getting a txt of "happy birthday!" or some shit. (It's happened to me, how about you?) There is a reason your mom would freak out if you just emailed her on mother's day, that would make you suck as a person.

I see a blog as different because it is a complete thought (usually) and offers a window into the writers life/mind, something you just don't get from an email or txt message. And often not even from a phone conversation. The written word has power. That's the only reason I know who Shakespeare is.

I really meant to go off on txt messages more, but I'll save it. That is all.

Ken Lay is a psychopath.

Nothin' Runs Like a Deere

Let me tell you that tractors are amazing things.  Especially with 4WD they will go over or thru just about anything that stands in their way.  Of course i found out the flip side of that coin yesterday.  As it turns out, when your tractor decides it can't drive over or thru whatever you want it to go over or thru, there is a pretty serious problem.  Because you went over and thru a lot of shit before you got stuck.

So I took the 2355 out to do some man's work for the day.  Started out by getting a load of sand from the orchard (we dug it up to plant some apple trees) and dumped that on the driveway where the rain has been doing a number.  Then I decided to head down on the woods road that goes to my cabin, because there's a wet area that i wanted to smooth out with the loader.  So I cruise down there and start busting up the road, having a grand old time.  Then I decided that everything would be a lot better if the water had somewhere to drain.  I worked on that, and it helped ... but not quite perfect.  So I got my chainsaw and cut down some trees in order to back down into an area and really make a trench to drain the water.  Which I did.

And the water followed me down in there, and made the ground all soft and shit, so I threw her in 4 and started to claw my way out.  And i almost made it, too.  Then I backed up to get ramming speed and try again.  No luck.  One more try.  Nothing.  Fuck.  All this time I've just been making the damn ruts deeper and deeper.  Now I'm really screwed.  Back to the chainsaw.  Cut down some more trees and jam them under the tires for traction.  Doesn't really even help, certainly makes the ruts deeper.  Now she's sunk right down and high-centered.  So I pick up the front end by pushing the loader down all the way, gets the front wheels out of the mud.  I get another tree, cut the limbs off, get two chains, and chain the small log to both the front tires (cross-wise) so they have something to climb on.  Fire up the 2355, throw her in gear and away I go.  Sort of.  It's at this time that something in the mud gets a hold of my rear tire and rips the valve stem out - flat tire.  Done for.  Screwed.  The best day ever.  I'm a stupid rookie.  A fucking idiot.

Thankfully my neighbor is Pete, and Pete has a big 4WD tractor too.  My dad was the best man at his wedding, so he agrees to help me out.  Pun intended.  So down he lumbers with his beast, and we hook the chains up to the front axle of my rig.  He starts pulling for all he's worth, does nothing but tear apart my road.  Mine won't budge.  Maybe an inch at best.  Out comes the saw, but it's out of gas.  Standard.  Fill 'er up, cut some more trees.  Get rocks, etc for traction.  Try pulling again, nothing.  Shit.  What now?  The roto-tiller on the back of my Deere weights a metric ton.  Seriously.  Maybe if I disconnect it she'll come right out.  We do, it does.  But now i'm still in the middle of the woods with a flat tire, it's starting to get dark out, and the tiller is stuck in the damn quicksand 50 feet from the road.  And I'm supposedly better off than I was three hours ago.  I guess.  Whatever.

Moral of this story: A cock is a blessing.

And a curse.

Plan B

My new theory is that I'm going to attach some random key words to all my emails. Words like impeach, terrorist, bomb, etc. I'm also going to throw them into phone conversations, so if you call me be prepared for Tourette-style outbursts at any given time. Maybe I can single-handedly crash the NSA data mining servers. Or maybe not. That is all.


Had my first night at 93 Townsend last night. Didn't make a hundred bucks or anything, but not bad for a first night. I even managed to get weeded for a while. The manager is cool, the owners seem to be a little ... well ownerish. Smuggle Mexicans under the border. They have live piano on the weekends. That's a joke, because it sucks. And the menu is confusing, which sucks. And the damn bartenders cork the wine at the bar before you present it to your table, which is like working at McDonald's. Which sucks. George Bush Hates Black People. And other than that everything was great. Thank god it's only two nights a week.


One other thing. Why the hell is my lawn growing like a frickin' weed plantation. I just got done mowing the bitch two days ago and it already looks like a jungle. Impeach Bush. At least the weather is nice so I can start mowing it again, there is that.

Oh, Yeah

So I'm back. And with a vengeance. Steve et al, go read the opening Notebook piece in this month's Harper's. It's great, Lapham opens right up and talks about throttling the president with his bare hands.

Oh, and for the NSA, who I'm sure are reading along with us, this is my disclaimer: I don't actually want to kill W. But I do respect is as a legitimate topic for discussion.

My current reading list if: a. i get any money to buy books b. i exhaust what's already languishing on there.

1. Armed Madhouse : Who's Afraid of Osama Wolf?, China Floats, Bush Sinks, The Scheme to Steal '08, No Child's Behind Left, and Other Dispatches from the Front Lines of the Class War

2. Failed States : The Abuse of Power and the Assault on Democracy

3. Curious George at the Zoo

iNSAne demenCIA

I woke up this morning to fog like soup, so natually my mind turned to politics. I wrote down this letter, and have sent it to Snowe and Collins, who will not care and do nothing.

--

Dear Senator Collins. Please do you what you can to stop the Hayden confirmation that appears to be going thru the Senate without a hitch. Consider breaking party lines, you've done it before and we have been thankful. Many of your constituents are upset (at best) by the NSA's activities, and more needs to be understood about what this man did there / will do once he is at the CIA. It's not as if this position is a meaningless piece of puffery bestowed as an honorary degree. Director of the CIA is serious power, serious responsibility.

And for all our sakes, do something to stop the abuse of power and illegal use of government agencies (warrantless information trolling by the NSA just to start) You know that Mainers are fiercely independent; this spying and subterfuge perpetrated on citizens by your party will not stand with voters.

You can toe the line and refuse to ruffle feathers, another of the party faithful, or you can stand for your voters, for Maine, for the nation.

Sincerely,
John Robinson