The crew of the space shuttle Discovery completed repairs on the shuttle today while parked at the ISS . . .
Archive of entries posted on 3rd August 2005
Fun Trivia
What Others Are Doing
Apparently, while working on his next essay, Whittler is also working on screenplay so that there might actually be a patriotic movie out there. Hopefully he won’t make the first-timer’s screenplay mistake and forget to include ninjas.
Michelle Malkin has a small preview of her next book. So when will I have a preview of my next (first) book? Soon. Stop bugging me.
Blogger S.O.S.
Do you know the blogger Venomous Kate?
Well, she needs our help. She recently had a biking accident and lost a few teeth. Yep, LOTS of expensive dental work is coming up. But the good news is that dental appointments are lots of fun – oh wait a minute.
So please go to her site and drop a small bit of change in her paypal account. A bunch of people donating just a little bit of money each can make a big difference.
No front teeth on the top. No front teeth on the bottom. Cracked molars in the back! Whoa!
Won’t you please help Venomous Kate?
She’s everything a right wing blogger should be. Funny. Venomous at times. With a great smile. AND NOW IT’S GONE! You can help!
“They are good at running away.”
IMAO BLOGGER SCOTT ON INSTANT MESSAGE CHAT WITH FELLOW BLOGGER HOMOCON TUESDAY AUGUST 2…
SCOTT: Wow, it looks like an Air France flight caught fire trying to land at a Toronto Airport.
HOMOCON: Accident or terrorism?
SCOTT: Not sure. All of the passengers and flight crew are running away from the burning wreckage!
HOMOCON: Well, they are French. They’re good at running away and have practiced it countless times in the past century or so.
A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 7 – Security
PREVIOUS
Being so civilized, Nar Valdum had full monitoring of all traffic coming onto the planet. Frankly, I don’t like civilization.
“Dip, I am growing impatient.”
“Would you like to play twenty questions, Rico? You think of something, and then I’ll try to guess it. It will help me learn.”
“No, Dip, I want ground control. Any indication of how much longer we have to wait?”
“They simply say we are in a queue and will get to us soon. So, do you want to play twenty questions?”
Didn’t have much else to do. “Fine. I thought of something.”
“Is it animal, vegetable, mineral, or other?”
“Other.”
“Is it violence?”
“Yes.”
Dip processed silently for a moment. “That game did not help me learn anything.”
“Life is full of disappointment, Dip. Perhaps you learned that.”
“I already derived that knowledge, Rico. I have good news for you, though: ground control is hailing us.”
“This is Nar Valdum ground control,” came a voice over the ship’s speakers, “What is your business here?”
My guess is that a normal person would be a little irate at this point, so I decided to go with that. “Landing– not just floating here all day.”
“We are sorry for the wait, but security measures have been increased because of the sentient species diversity conference. Are you here for that?”
“Yes.” Increased security measures? This job kept looking like more and more fun.
“How long is your planned stay?”
Five days. “Seven days.”
“How many sentients are aboard your vessel?”
“Just me.”
“Species?”
“Human. Haven’t you scanned my ship?”
“Just confirming data. Does your ship have weaponry?”
None you’ll find. “Just basic defensive measures… if you’d call them weapons.”
“Your course for landing and ship identification are being sent to you. Please keep the ship identification in your memory banks for the length of your stay.”
I checked the onscreen map. “That’s a completely different continent than the conference!”
“Security measures,” ground control answered. He sounded weary.
“Good to know I’ll be safe, at least.” I ended the communication. “Dip, take her down.” Hopefully they wouldn’t try searching my ship when I landed, or my initial stay would be short and bloody.
“While we’re landing, I have something for you to try guessing in twenty questions, Rico.”
I manually accessed Dip’s memory buffer and looked for an unusual sequence repeated over and over. “Is it a shoe?”
“You cheated.”
“Hope you learned something from that.”
NEXT
IMPORTANT NEWS
BRACE FOR THIS ONE: A Democratic has lost an election.
I know; unbelieveable.
Or, I guess you would think it is with all the muckadoos who are in a tivvy over this.
Is “tivvy” a word, or did I make that up?
Seriously, though, you’d think the Democrats would be used to losing by now. I guess they kinda are; they’re spinning a somewhat close special election loss as a “win.” I guess when you never win elections anymore, you have to rate your success on how close you came to not being a loser.
Heh. Bunch of losers.
What are your crappy bedtime stories?
Hi. I’m your friend Laurence Simon, but it’s not yet time for another Crappy Bedtime Story.
Yeah, some of y’all have been enjoying the Crappy Bedtime Stories I tell on IMAO’s Podcast every week, and a few sickos out there have even asked about a burned CD archive of them or something like that.
I repeat: sickos! Sick sick sickos!
Anyway, these are the stories from my childhood, handed down through the deranged and twisted generations of my family. However, there’s so many tales that others have heard, different variants based on the insane xenophobic fears of your ancestors as expressed in nursery tales.
Therefore, I’m calling upon you to share your own Crappy Bedtime Stories as you were told, and which stories you plan on telling your own little ones before Child Protective Services mercifully hauls them away.
The comments are open, phone lines are standing by, and remember, that it’s never to late to start warping little minds. Unless, of course, they’re old enough to have a gun like those Menendez Brothers had.
We Can’t Conqure the World Until We Have Giant War Robots
An Editorial by Frank J.
When I was a young boy fishing with my dad, I saw another fisherman catch a fish and then set it back in the water. I asked my father what was happening.
“It’s called ‘catch and release,’ son.”
“Why does he do that?” I inquired.
“Because he’s a homosexual, that’s why.” My dad then looked me in the eye and said with great serious, “When you defeat something, it must die. That is the way of the world.”
“We’re catching and releasing, just like the homosexual fisherman.”
“But what if we catch a fish we don’t want?”
“Then we chuck in the woods and watch and laugh as it dies. That’s what a real man does.”
About that time, the park ranger came and said it looked like we caught our limit. My dad then replied that the only thing there was a limit to was “his patience.” After the fight, I got to see the inside of a police station, which was fun.
I learned a lot that day, but apparently my hippy brother, Joe foo’ the Marine, never learned the same lesson. When I last got a phone call from him telling me about his mission in Iraq, he described how, when he took out photos of his family, a large group of Iraqis formed around him to see.
“Interesting ploy,” I said, “Now that you had them in one place, did you kill them all at once.”
“Uh… no.”
“So what then? You rounded them all up to be slave labor in our new underground Iraqi oil mines?”
“No! The whole idea here is to help the Iraqis get themselves a good government and stop all the terrorist attacks on them. Then we can leave the country back to them.”
“I HAVE NO BROTHER!” I shouted before hanging up the phone. See, that’s the problem with our troops today: they give a human face to our country. With how they get along with the Iraqis and help school children goes against the very goal of our military – conquering all the world into one giant American Empire. Instead, we’re catching and releasing, just like the homosexual fisherman.
No one even seems to understand anymore that conquest is the ultimate goal of any nation. Sure, we can have Allies now and then, but their foreignness will be trouble down the line. To have true peace, all must be defeated and subjugated, and I just don’t see today’s military doing that. They have to be brutal and merciless, and that just ain’t happening.
So, the solution is, as always, giant deadly robots – robots that never had Isaac Asimov’s three laws of robotics anywhere near them. They will take the place of troops in conquered countries, watching the citizens with their uncaring eyes. They will be unmoving sentinels… unmoving, that is, until one of those we subjugated stops slaving away to the benefit of America.
This is our utopian future, and it’s time to make real steps towards it. To make these robots, we need someone who knows things about circuits and electricity and stuff… someone like me! Also, I would prefer the robots to be black with red eyes, but I’d settle for them being metallic gray with any sort of glowing eyes.
The American Empire won’t make itself; it’s time for deadly robots. When we have them, then we can sit back and watch and laugh as foreigners flop around like fish in the woods.
Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us and is a frequent contributor to IMAOPodcast.com. He is also the author of such books as “Robots Are Our Future; Children Are Our Past” and “Taxes Are for Foreigners”.
The “UN”ternet
(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)
Recently a U.N. panel was created to recommend how the Internet should be run in the future. Here are some excerpts from the report:
No single country will be allowed to dominate the internet. Since the US is a single country, it must either get out of the internet business, or get married. Possibly to Mexico, since she looks hot in a bikini.
All internet sites will be approved by the international community, i.e. France, and any site without the official “cheese and beret” seal of approval will have resolutions passed against it.
The United States will enforce these resolutions on behalf of the UN in the face of international disapproval and ingratitude. If successful, must give full credit to France.
Any rapidly propagating viruses that slow down overall internet traffic speed will be blamed on the JOOOOOOOS!
All information posted to the internet will first be fact-checked by the Daily Kos Ministry of Truth.
The following phrases will be banned: “poofy hair”, “filthy hippy”, “communist”, “ronin”.
What grudge against IMAO?
Google will change the “Google Search” button on its home page to say “I [heart] the UN”
The “I’m Feeling Lucky” button will become “Oil For Food was a Legitimate Program that Saved Millions of Children from Cruel Starvation due to Unnecessary US Sanctions and NOT a Money Laundering Scheme Designed to Line the Pockets of Corrupt UN Bureaucrats”.
All “adult content” web sites will cover naughty bits with little pictures of blue helmets.
All “adult content” sites will be thoroughly reviewed for compliance.
Until the US buys high-speed wireless internet access for all of Africa, everyone gets AOL and dial-up.
Except for those engaged in official UN compliance reviews.
All PayPal transactions must receive approval from Dr. Mbeki Salingo of Nigeria.
All bloggers will display the flags of every nation across the top of their home pages. Violators will be resolutioned.
No bushy moustaches. They frighten us.
Remember folks, John Bolton is the only thing standing between the free people of the world and the nightmare outlined above.
And for you power-hungry one-worlders, just three words:
John Hawkins, Enemy of the State
ALERT: Do not visit RightWingNews.com. It was brought to my attention that RightWingNews.com is blocked by web filters of the U.S. Army Reserves, and we can only assume the reason is because John Hawkins is a subversive – possibly a Communist. If the Army deems him unacceptable, then I deem him unacceptable too and will immediately remove him from my blogroll… when I finally get to updating it in four or five years, that is.
Happy Birthday, Baby Torres!
Baby Torres was born yesterday. Here’s the e-mail update I got:
The Torres and Rollin families are proud to announce that Mrs. Susan Torres gave birth at 8:18 am on Tuesday, August 2, 2005 to Susan Anne Catherine Torres. The baby weighs 1 pound 13 ounces and measures 13 Ω inches long.
There were no complications during delivery. The baby is doing well and is being monitored in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of Virginia Hospital Center.
The Torres family will hold a press conference tomorrow, August 3, 2005, at 1:00 p.m. eastern time at Virginia Hospital Center. Further details will be available at that time.
Thank you all for your care and support which has helped both families reach this wonderful day.
It is quite a sad story, but, thanks to so many people’s concern, some happiness has come out of it.
UPDATE: Here’s the AP report.