BRIEF RANTS RETURNS

Wrapping up the end of the month in the Scribe style to which most of you have grown accustomed and all of you pleasure yourselves:


BAT-CULT CONTINUES TO PROVE ME RIGHT- The only thing missing is a bombardment of angry emails. This bizarre Harry Potter-esque devotion to the new Batman films is mind-blowing to say the least, and kinda scary to say the most. Apparently, having a dissenting viewpoint is the equivalent of blasphemy and is to be punished. One thing you may not know about old Scribe is he’s an old hand at dealing with Yahoo message board posters. At one time he used to kamikaze militant gays, definitely the toughest nuts to crack. This Bat-Cult lacks their style and coherence, so some of the sport isn’t there, but what they lack in smarts they definitely make up for with tenacity. My favorite is how they criticize me and others who dislike the movie as spending too much time commenting about it, yet there they are to react to our comments at every turn. The most gratifying thing is that others are starting to see them for what they are. Contrary to what that one stupid ass wrote to me, my objective wasn’t to “win.” and change peoples’ minds, it was to expose hypocrisy and a disturbing trend. I’d like to say “mission accomplished” but I need a flight jacket and an aircraft carrier for the photo ops.


And speaking of people acting weird,

WOMEN IS DER FUNNIEST CREATURES- I don’t get it and perhaps I’m not meant to. Explain to me how someone can seem to be simply enamored of you from day to day, claiming you as the best friend they’ve had in, possibly ever, and suddenly you can’t even get them to return a GD text message? Is it to make a person drive himself crazy trying to figure out what he did or said? Is it because the female tendency to shut out all external forces when depressed also makes them incapable of seeing the effect it’s having on others? Or, it is just that some people get tired of knowing some people after a while and don’t possess the stones to just cowgirl up and spit it out? Can you tell I’m angry? I think I have a reason to be. How many times should a person text someone before they start feeling like a nuisance or unwanted? I don’t have a number for you but I can tell you that after a week of having done so, I’ve definitely reached that point. It wasn’t like I was sending text after text after text with pix of my slit wrists here! I learned not to do that anymore after Betty White pressed charges! BITCH!!!
When I say I text messaged, I mean no more than twice a day in the beginning and once every other day by the end. I did receive a few cryptic responses about being depressed and having tons to fill me in on when we saw each other again. And that did take place. But right after it all went back to the way it had been with me texting and her not replying. Would a guy do this s_? Maybe, but with a guy I would’ve already said, “Look, asshole, what’s your problem?” Even those women who claim to be cool like that are not.



So now what? Should I continue to text? I’ve already stopped. Should I just do a wait ‘n see for the possible moment she gets past whatever she’s going through? Or should I just chalk it up to more proof of my belief that anything that seems too good to be true is usually just a sadistic lie waiting to be revealed. Vultures?



A few hours after I wrote this, the same person mentioned above ran up to me out of nowhere and gave me a hug so fiercely hard & tight that she nearly broke my glasses.


Chicks~

WHAT ARE YOU DOING, SCRIBE?- Good question…um…me. What am I doing? I’m not sure. I feel like I’m standing still. I feel…well, I don’t really feel much at all lately. I don’t write. I don’t even try. I have a book coming out. There have been so many delays I think I’ll be driving a Jetson’s car before it actually gets released. My job is…well, a job. Plus, being in an office full of so many attractive women serves as a constant reminder of where I am and what I can’t have or do. All I want to do these days is read, and the material I’m choosing tends to be about the real lives of people who have done things I wish I’d done. I’m not “allowed” top be depressed these days because I’m around someone who dwells in their own misery to the point that they cannot believe anyone else suffers. So when I don’t do anything but read or go online, I am accused of being lazy because seeing anything else would mean pausing the suffering long enough to see it. I walk around with unresolved feelings tearing a hole through my center and I can’t express them anywhere except here, where I can’t specify for fear of being exposed I try to move forward and in many ways I succeed, but a significant portion of me is still “back there,” demanding various forms of resolution and closure. That phantom me will see none if, however, until I make the decision to radically change everything that is currently wrong with my life. Until that happens, if that happens, I will remain splintered between two moments, one in the past, the other in a never-ending present of my own devising.

On a lighter note, Eva Mendes finally answered one of ym semen-scribbled letters of undying but willing to kill anyone including toddlers devotion and said yes to my proposal. The best part is that per the contract:

HER ASS IS INCLUDED!!!

Madge's Magical List

A break from the Batman stuff before a final word:

1) wildest thing done as a teen - I became so good at falsifying report cards with my partner-in-crime that I made my mom think my grades were higher than they were for two years of high school until I suddenly became an excellent student in 11th grade. We were such excellent forgers that we started forging other report cards from a box we "obtained" from the storage closet and spared many kids punishment and worse.

2) saddest moment - The moment I entered the nursing home my mom had been sent to after the hospital rushed her about before she could die on them & saw the paramedics getting back on the elevator with an empty stretcher. I knew I'd never see her alive again.

3) proudest moment - The day I saw my name on the cover of a book and realized it wasn't the result of my having kidnapped Stephen King or Chuck Pahlaniuk and forced them at knife-point to scribble my name over theirs on one of their novel- 'Cause, I think we all knew that was comin'.

4) scariest time in your life -When I thought I was gonna be a daddy with an ex-girlfriend who was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me.

5) most excited day of your life - I don't get excited, I get even.



6) best friend of your life - Also the love of my life. Her disregaring of me was my greatest life lesson: All that you love will one day vanish.

7) worst enemy of your life - He's dead now, popped in the head at point blank range during a robbery. I DIDN'T DO IT!!! I wanted to, but some goddam thug got to him first. Insensitive prick! I SAW HIM FIRST!!!
(I can only joke about this horrible tragedy 'cause he was pure evil and because the Bible says it's OK to mock a violent death if you hated the person's rotten guts)

8) favorite pet of your life - My black lab, "Jet." I got her th eday my dad died so she always symbolized some type of rebirth to me and she seemed to know me intrinsically. And man was she good in the sack!!!

SCRIBE'S ADVENTURES WITH THE BAT-CULT

As I wrote in my Dark Knight review, there is a bizarre cult of fans of the new Batman films and more specifically director Chris Nolan that is rather disturbing. The saddest part of this is their complete lack of originality. They have taken all the passionate devotion of the Trekkies and combined it with the mindless and unquestioning acceptance of "Matrix" fans.





Now, you know me. I love all God's people as long as they don't fuck with me. I never said anything about them reacting to me fucking with them, however, and that's probably the loophole God used to make sure I am occasionally attacked for taking an unpopular stance. In this case I am but a victim, a whipping boy, if you will. Allz I done was innocently post dis here:





THE BAT-CULT 25-Jul-08 04:46 pm



What is it with you people, you know who you are. tiny-minded simpletons who seem to think Nolan's Batman is the second coming of Christ in your sick, sychophantic devotion to his intensely flawed vision. You bombard critics who don't like the movie as if they've attacked your lovers and you condemn those of us who don't think it's the greatest thing since crotch-less panties as idiots who don't "get it." That's exactly the type of behavior one expects from a cult. You wanna bombard somebody? bombard me! I'd love to hear it, soon as you've crawled out of the cellars your spiritual masters are keeping you locked in.





Now I ax you: Who in their right mind could find that offensive???





Really? Damn, maybe I should've stopped there, then. I probably would have, but damned if I ain't be got a talent for spotting the one missing component to an ongoing debate and causing people to sit up and pay attention. Like this guy:





This movie was fantastic. Get over yourself. Flawed vision. you must be retarded. Perhaps we should go back to watching Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey? All previous Batman movies except the original were not even half as good as The Dark Knight or Batman Begins. Even George Clooney said Batman and Robin was the worst movie he's ever been in.





I replied: George Clooney was wrong! he forgot about One Fine Day!





And this guy, who some of these nimrods accused of being the same person as me, wrote to the prevous poster:





Poor child, you're to far gone to be saved. The post never once said anything about any other movie but the cult has trained you to come back with previous Batman and Robin movies. Jacks Joker and, now I'm going to say it, Danny ad the penguin was more fun to watch.





Some other brain trust decided to put us both in our places by writing:





Cult? I think you both are in a cult of retards. I'm not a fan of the comic. I'm not a fan of any comic. I enjoyed the movie because it was a fantastic movie. I'm not analyzing Heath's voice compared to Jack's or god damn hair color. I liked the movie because it was one of the dopest movies I've seen ever. I've seen all the Batman movies and I can honestly tell you that this one was by far the best. Jack and Danny were good in their own right but the latest two movies were centered in reality not emo bullcrap. If someone fell into a vat of acid their face wouldn't be white and hair be green. They would be dead. And if you lived in a god damn sewer, I'm pretty sure you would never be elected mayor of anything.





Now that I was set straight and realized a movie about a guy dressed as a bat is supposed to be realistic, I concilliatorily replied:





You've obviously never been to Detroit. Oh, and watch that "GD" stuff, lest you offend our sensitive Christian friends.



Why did I defend the poor Christians, you may ask? Because of this overly sensitive young'n:





Firstly, as a Christian, I am appalled at your statement. Secondly, why do you care so much?





Before I had a chance to reply to that, another person got to them first:





Why would you be appalled? More then anything on this board that bothers me the most si not if you like or dislike the movie, its how people are treated if they say they didn't have a good time watching it. People are allowed not to like the movie. Those actions are the reason why this thread was even started. SOME OF YOU ARE ACTING LIKE IT! Geeessssss.....





Good stuff, that, but ol' Scribe wouldn't be ol' Scribe if he didn't add to it:





firstly, i couldn't care less if you're offended as a Christian. You guys are far too sensitive for people who claim to hold all truth in an attractive leatherbound novel. My comparison was drawn to show how those who are cultish in regards to Batman movies seem to place them on the level of a messiah that is immune to criticism.


secondly, I care so much because I can't even make a dissenting comment without a bunch of lunatic fringe crap being spewed in my direction. hope I answered your questions, and I will refrain from the Christian metaphors and analogies so as not to offend in future posts.





Here's one from a supporter:





Your bang on... Some of these guys want to kill you for not liking the movie. As I've always said , movie is good but not great, or how some of you put it, FANTASTIC! lol That's brainwashed or maybe you're just been release from prison after 15 years. Star Wars series FANTASTIC, Scarface Fantastic, God Father series FANTASTIC, Lord of the Rings series SUPER FANTASTIC etc, etc etc... DK ok film.








And here's one from a detractor who actually read my review:





We're as much cult followers as you are a legit critic. Keep up the good work in those Junior College classes. You have a long way to go...





Personal attacks always restore my faith in humanity, so I thought I'd reciprocate:





Since you know me so well, I'll be sure to send you a copy of my novel coated in Vaseline so you can plunge it up your ass.





In true post-PC fashion, there's always somebody who is way too fucking sensitive and conducts themselves in the manner of a li' bitch, like this person:





Sorry that I'm "brainwashed" because myself and 99% of the world thinks this movie was awesome.





This prompted me to clarify:





let me clarify for those who seem to be misinterpreting this post- I don't think people who liked the movie are members of the Bat-cult. In fact, I did not dislike the movie, I just found it lacking in many important ways. The members of the Bat-cult are those people who react with such venom and militancy whenever someone says something negative.

One guy (I hope it was a guy, anyway) on a different post decided to prove me wrong and wrote:

Go suck a dick and two balls

To which I replied:

Why not 3 balls? Is your dad busy?

All this occured within a matter of a few hours, some of it within a few minutes, yet these dumb mofo's still maintain they're not part of a cult LMAO!!!

Yahoo! Message Boards, I've missed you so!

SCRIBE REVIEWS: THE DARK KNIGHT

I have a new mission in life: It doesn't matter what horrors I must endure. It doesn't matter who stands in my way. I am going to find out who Christian Bale fucked to land the role of Batman!

Now, some of you ladies, ie. broads, reading this would probably happily allow Christian Bale to hump them for any reason, movie role or not. But ol' Scribe ain't down with the idea of getting fucked by Christian Bale, yet that's how he feels when the English actor dons the rubber mask and starts chewing scenery in a manner that would make William Shatner blush with envy.

Here's the weird part: He's perfectly fine in the role of Bruce Wayne. But put that fucking mask over his weird mouth and suddenly he's growling like an animal and bucking out his teeth like a retard.

The Dark Knight picks up one year after the events of the previous disappointment, with"Batman" still kicking criminals' asses and causing organized crime bosses to cower in broad daylight so as to avoid his wrath. The opening bank robbery sequence is handled very well and introduces us to the Joker protrayed by the late and stupidly self-destructive Heath Ledger. There, I said it. Kiss my ass if you're offended.

Ledger's Joker is different. He's more of a mystery man whose origins are as unknown as his true identity. A self-described "agent of chaos," he comes before Gotham City's crime bosses to offer his services in ridding them of Christian Bale, oops, I mean "Batman."

I'm not crazy about the approach to the character, but Ledger's brilliant performance is undeniable. He inhabits the role as if he has been saving it for last, which it turns out, he was. Other actors don't fare quite as well. Michael Caine, an accomplished actor, is far too Cockney for the important role of Alfred. The almost unbearbly homely Maggie Gyllenhaal makes Katie Holmes look like Meryl Streep, and Anthony Micheal Hall sleepwalks through a bit part as a TV talk show host.



On the plus side, Morgan Freeman is his usual charismatic self as Lucius Fox and Gary Oldman, an actor I've never been a fan of, is very good as Gordon. Eric Roberts is cool as hell as the mob boss.



The story is surprisingly thin, considering the depth of the previous installment. What you see is basically what you get, with one tiny twist at the end that is so uninspired and flat-out stupid I was glad it happened at the end so I couldn't stage a walkout protest.



The action sequences remind me of the X-Men movies: OK but nothing special. The Batman suit looks ridiculous this time around and actually made me miss the infamous "bat nipples" of that George Clooney fiasco. With a two hour and forty-five minute running time, a movie better keep me interested and this one does, until the dreaded third act.



Before I get to that, let's discuss my main issue with these movies. Nobody will ever get them right. Nobody. Not Tim Burton, not Chris Nolan, not Jesus Christ, esq. The Batman character is far too complex and internal to ever be wrought correctly on screen in a few hours. But it doesn't seem like these guys even try. For Christ's sake, even that flamer Joel Schumaker tried!



Bale's Batman comes across as a complete idiot. He has zero detective skills, (a problem when your character is described in his books as "the world's greatest detective") no control over his emotions as evidenced several times in the film, and he wants to give up the Batman life and settle down. This Batman is like a kid from nowadays who doesn't get nuances or the bigger picture. Instead, he goes nuts on whoever is pissing him off at the moment.



That's not Batman. That's the new James Bond.



Still, despite Bale's agonizingly overracted (Batman) performance, the film holds together rather well until the introduction of Two-Face and a third act that is so laughably inane that only the stupidest viewer wouldn't feel like he or she was being patronized and cheated. In fact, it's so out of character and left field all I could do was shake my head at yet another wasted opportunity.



I don't understand the bizarre Bat-cult that has resulted from these films, http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/the_big_picture/2008/07/dark-knight-fan.html but hadly any of them can tell you as much about the character as I can. Yet they all wanna get pissy and know-it-all-ish when I deliver my opinion. Fuck 'em.



The movie is overrated~








** out of ****








Rest assured I will be on the internet within moment registering my disgust."


-Comic Book Guy

Oh, look! It's the REAL Batman!!!

Accept no substitutes.

SCRIBE’S NEW SHIFT NIGHTMARE

It was my first day working my new shift of 6:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.

I chose this shift because I loved the idea of getting out of work while there’s still nearly an entire day left to waste reading in my papa-san chair and masturbating to lil’ people porn. It was Sunday morning and I was already off to a bad start.

Somehow, magically, my alarm clocks didn’t go off. I have two, one that is electric and another that is battery operated as a back up. Neither of them went off, but I was awoken to the sounds of, “Scribe, what time are you supposed to be at work? It’s 5:20.”

“Fuck!" I yelled and jumped out of bed from a lying on my belly position like an expert gymnast. “Shit. Why didn’t the alarm clocks do off?” The response was muffled and non-committal sounding, her face filled with guilt.

“Did you turn the clock off? Hello? Did you turn it off?”

Shrug. “I dunno. I don’t think so.”

“How can you not…forget it.”

Unable to take a shower, I ran to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. Thank God my hair is so short right now or I would’ve been boned.

I was on time, of course. There’s no traffic at 5:40 in the morning on a Sunday in my town. No factories or mills around here. As I got off the elevator on the third floor and entered my workspace, I thought briefly about how nice it would be logging in so early, since nobody in his or her right mind would call his or her cellular service provider on a Sunday morning. Like my mommy said, all good people are at church on Sunday. She said that as I gripped the sides of the door to my house and refused to go to church where that big awful white bearded guy was going to smite me. I was 3.

Anyway, as I sat at my computer and started the login process, I experienced the first of what would soon become many brain-freezes. I couldn’t remember my password! In fact, I had no idea what it was!!!

I called the I.T. department and did a password reset via the automated system but the password wasn’t accepted. Apparently I’d tried logging in one too many times and my account was now locked. I again called I.T. and got that all straightened out so I could change the stupid password and log in for a nice, leisurely beginning to my morning.

A call came through as soon as I logged into my phone at 6:01. An older man who needed to reactivate his previous phone that worked better in his home area than the new one. A fluke, I thought. He needed his phone right away. Soon as this call ends, that will be it for, like, an hour.

Another call came in soon as that one ended, this one about billing. BILLING!? Who checks their online bill at 6:00 in the morning? Is sticker shock really that powerful? This was a new customer, so she was understandably confused, since the first bill is always higher than normal.

The calls kept coming, one after the other, the questions growing more and more inconsequential and brief. I won’t reveal an industry secret, but there is a substantial cost to the company (any company, for that matter) whenever someone calls in. That’s why we try to address all possible issues when you call us.

My voice cracking, my eyes refusing to remain open, I took call after call, hoping each one would end with a few minutes of respite before the next. Then something occurred to me. How many cars had I seen in the parking lot when I arrived? Five? Maybe six? The 6:00 a.m. shift was the opening shift of the call center, and I’d chosen it without realizing it was also one of the smallest as far as population. Son of a biscuit! That meant that regardless of the small volume of calls, there was an even smaller ratio of rep to customer, meaning every 5th or 6th call would go to me.

If it was like this on a Sunday, God only knew what Monday would bring. As expected, it’s traditionally the day people call in regarding just about everything related to their accounts, most notably billing issues and equipment orders.

Still, as the day wore on, the calls decreased in volume. I’m sure that was mainly due to the fact that the 7:00 & then 8:00 & 8:30 people started showing up. By 9:22 I was sitting in front of my computer screen listening to the distant sounds of mild static coming through my headset, occasionally interrupted by my own voice greeting the next contestant on the Price is Right.

By midday things sped up a bit. A little too much of a bit. Damn rainy days. By 12:30 there were over two-dozen calls waiting at any given moment. Unlike during the week, almost every call was for the same thing over and over. There’s nothing worse than being overloaded with repetitious calls on an under-staffed day.

I emailed a comely co-worker who was there on overtime and asked her what she up to. She replied that she couldn’t believe how busy it was today and said she’d been planning to come later in the day for more overtime. Within thirty minutes. She’d written, "I need to rethink this coming back thing.” Far as I know, she didn’t come back.

As the clock ticked mercifully down to 2:30, one final call came in that could only come to me. The customer needed to activate not one, not two, but FOUR phones and switch two of them once they were ready. That meant that at 2:28 I had to conference him into an automated system where he went through it four times to unlock each phone with his electronic signature agreement. Mercifully, I was all done by 2:43 because I insisted on having him activate them in assembly line fashion, one by one.

I’d like to say I ran screaming from the building but I didn’t have the energy to do much more than pant under the oppressive heat as I walked my resistant legs to the car.

But Goddamn!!!! It was nice to be off at 2:30!!!

(This is the last work-related post for a while, honest Norwegian)

IN GOOD COMPANY

Nowadays, I often hear the phrase “good company” in relation to where I work. I don’t disagree, but I have to take issue with the phrase. What constitutes a “good company,” and in what context is it good?

Certainly a comparative description of companies would place the one for which I work in high regard. Much of what’s offered there is not offered at other places of employment. But my mind doesn’t stop at the surface (except when it comes to women and their looks). I’m always thinking a little further past what is presented to my strikingly handsome face.

Indulge me as I examine and dissect the phrase “good company.” Aww, c’mon! It won’t be boring, I promise. There might be full frontal nudity…eh? Eh? Rudy, this is where you drop trou.

PULL ‘EM BACK UP!!! DEAR FATHER IN HELL, CONCEAL THAT HORROR!!!

If one is to take a close look at the phrase, one must also take into account its larger, broader meaning. In other words, what are we really saying with that phrase? Are we saying the company is inherently good, or are we saying it is good when considering the conduct of other companies?

What frightens me is that some of you probably don’t see a difference between the two. “Gotta work to eat and pay da bills.” That’s the American mantra. Why question it, people say. It’s the way it is. It’s the way it’s gotta be.

Is it? I’m not so sure. People who make those comments tend to be woefully ignorant of history. They also tend to grow angry when they hear the word “why.” One of the supreme ironies of living in the United States is that while the country claims to have been formed in the name of freedom of choice, it is quite possibly the most conformist of the “First World Nations.” In fact, independent thought is generally frowned upon here and seen as trouble-making, Thank the Puritans and Pilgrims for that delightful brand of rigid social control. It filters down to this day and causes other countries to laugh at us and call us hypocrites.

In all fairness to the Global Corporate power structure, their way is not only not the only way, it is most definitely not the natural one. It is, actually, an artificial construct designed to maximize profit for a select few, give the appearance of “filtering down” to those who do as they’re told, and to ensconce itself in the public psyche to the point where it becomes an unquestionable fact of life.

I don’t have to tell most of you that when someone holds all the cards, they have full control of how the game is played. Corporations are so good at controlling public perception that most people can’t even imagine a time before their existence. Do you think they know corporations, by definition, are illegal? Doubtful.

It’s a given that they probably don’t know corporations not only have more rights than average citizens, they also have the virtue of individual protection under the law. That’s right. Legally speaking, corporations are people with the same rights we are told we have. And in case you see nothing wrong with that, how would you feel if you knew they used the anti-slavery amendment to justify their “person-hood.” Maybe you’re of the mind-set that considers that “good business.”

The grim specter of capitalism will always find a way, and sadly, it will also always find mindless adherents to justify its methods. In the name of commerce, all things are possible…for a select few.

Let’s take a walk back in time for a moment. We’ll go back to a time of kings and religious crusades. Europe will be our example. Let’s say you and I are living in England during the reign of a particularly benevolent ruler. We have traveled across most of Western Europe and seen the horrible conditions the other people are living in. When someone asks us about our king, we will most likely say, “We have a good king. He cares for the people and doesn’t let them starve!”

“It is a foregone conclusion that this “good king” still imposes exorbitant tariffs on the citizenry, prevents average people from owning property, punishes those who speak out and enforces bizarre laws that make life difficult. Still, in relative terms he is better than the alternative.

When I hear “good company,” that analogy comes to mind. At one point in our history, we thought a country ruled by kings was the only possible form of governance. Even though Plato had created a Democratic model centuries before, nobody except the ruling class knew about it. At some point, some truck driver or parking lot attendant stumbled upon the writings of Plato and was all like, “HEY! What the fudge? We don’t gotta have no kings no more?” I’m not for sure about the guy’s occupation, but I do know he employed a triple negative, the first in recorded herstory.

I don’t know the rest of the story, but I seem to remember some after school special where the kings were slowly replaced by democratic forms of government. How are corporations any different? They’re not. In many ways, they mimic those kings of old. They control our perceptions, they constantly reinforce their greatness and domination, and they make (most of) us think there is no other way to live. They also tend to have so-called individuals who extol their virtues without question, much like a blind patriot or the slave who’s given the big, important job of keeping the other slaves in line.

Corporations, by their very nature, are illegal. Until the late 1800’s, the definition of a corporation was a loosely conglomerated guild of companies brought together to achieve a specific goal for the common good and then disband once it was accomplished. Sadly, somebody figured out how much money could be made from keeping the corporation going and pushed all sorts of legislation through Congress. Suddenly the public good gave way to corporate interest and workers rights became non-existent until the advent of labor unions, which themselves began to mimic corporations and become equally corrupt and dysfunctional. Fortunately, the news media remained objective and never allowed corporations to…oh, yeah.

My theory is that the entire planet is actually run by three companies, headed ultimately by men so wealthy and so exclusive that most of us will never know who the H_ they are. They and their companies have more rights than people. But it’s the only way to maintain this modern world we live in where we’re all so happy and fulfilled.

When I say the place I work is a “good company,” I am speaking in relative terms. I am not saying it with the implication that companies are inherently good and necessary. I am reaching into the toilet, pulling out the golden turd, and saying, “See? This one’s much prettier than the others!”

Perhaps someone besides me will look around one day and say, “Hey! What the fudge? We don’t gotta have no more corporations no more?” Wouldn’t that be nice?

Unfortunately, unlike the kings of old, corporations can permeate our every living moment with their propaganda. Don’t expect any significant revolutions any time soon. Loathe as I am to admit it, I think it’s too late. At this point, we might have to resign ourselves to seeking out those “good companies,” knowing deep inside that there’s nothing good about any of them~

SCRIBE’S LIST OF WORK-RELATED PET PEEVES:

This is a slight departure from my usual bullshit sessions regarding people and how much they inconvenience me by existing on MY planet. This isn’t a list of general workplace annoyances. This is a list specific to my workplace, the exciting and thrilling world of cellular phone service!!! It is an amusement park of excitement, and now I am bringing its most enjoyable aspects to you, my vultures and stalkers:

(Let me know if this turns out to be too “inside” and I’ll never do another one)

In no particular odor of relevance:

This list focuses on customers, who tend to be woefully ignorant of this business and its associated technologies:

10. “THE DISTANCE PEOPLE”- At least twice a week I hear people in my ear saying things like, “I only live 2 miles from a tower and can’t git no signal!” Hmm. That close, huh? Can see it from your house, eh? Well, golly it should be working perfectly! It’s not like there are any other factors involved. It’s not like cell providers can’t guarantee service inside a house due to the construction of the dwelling, especially if it’s brick. As we all know, signal travels through solid objects without any interference so those pesky trees can’t be the culprits. It’s us! It’s the network! We suck!

9. “CREDITS FOR VALID CHARGES PEOPLE”- These are my favorite!!! They take a rainy day and suddenly make it seem worthwhile. They know the charge on their bill is valid, they know they were responsible for it, but they still think it should be waived because they don’t like it. This kind of childish reasoning is what has made Americans incapable of self-sacrifice. I suppose it makes sense in this reward everybody equally world. After all, if they owned up to it, they should receive a credit for being honest. Baby, I cheated. Where's my money?

8. “MINUTE USAGE DISPUTERS”- “There’s no way I went over my minutes this month!” Well, the bill says you did. “I’ve never gone over my minutes before!” Well, ya did this time. “I don’t see how, I didn’t use the phone more than usual.” Um, yeah ya did. I’m looking at the calls right now. “I think I’m being charged for someone else’s calls!” Yes, that’s right. Somebody get Mulder & Scully on the line. Sounds like an X-File to me! This is the same person who broadsides your car and then yells at you about how you weren’t there.

7. “TEXT MESSAGE DISREGARDERS”- “I didn’t open those text messages so why am I being charged for ‘em” Well, dumb-ass text messaging is based on a delivery system. Once it’s delivered, it’s received and you’re charged for it. It doesn’t matter if you open it. The phone doesn’t even know whether or not you opened it. I’d like to deliver a foot up your ass but I’m afraid you would call back to dispute that, too!
And speaking of which,

6. DO NOT CALL LIST PEOPLE”- Ah, yes. The mighty do no call list. Let us all tremble before its power! It can stop sleazy telemarketers from calling you and, if they still do, help you prosecute them to the full extent of the law. But…they don’t work on text messages! Why? Because it’s not a PHONE CALL!!! See, the answer lies in the name of the DO NOT CALLLLLLLLLL list! It says nothing about DO NOT TEXT!!!! Text messages aren’t even seen as phone calls, they are a data feature. They are more like emails receiving spam. This has been a public service announcement form your friendly neighborhood Scribe!!!

5. “I DON’T HAVE THAT FEATURE” PEOPLE- these are the brain trusts who call and say, “I have a text message charge on my bill…I don’t HAVE text messaging!” No? That’s a first. For you see, text messaging is a standard fucking feature! Welcome to the 21st Century, Moses! Even mo’ better-er are the people who say they don’t have voicemail, which naturally begs the logical follow-up question, “Did you have it disabled?” Eventually “I don’t have it” morphs into “I never use it” when they realize voicemail is also a standard feature that one must request to have disabled. But these people will argue with you and curse those who set up their accounts ad infinitum. I’d like to care, but compassion for idiots wasn’t included in my package.

4. “SAME PHONE PEOPLE”- These are those customers I am assisting who just happen to have the same phone I have. There’s nothing more fun than walking a customer through some setting or troubleshooting step only to hear them say, “Mine doesn’t do that.” Excuse me? “Mine doesn’t have that option.” Oh, really? That’s interesting, because I am looking at my screen and, hey! There’s the option! ”Not on mine.” UH-huh. Let’s try it again. Do you see it this time? “Nope. Mine doesn’t do…” Don’t say it again! THEY ALL DO THAT! Unless there’s a glitch in the software, they all DO THAT!!! “User error” is the happy little euphemism we use for people like you, i.e. user has no idea what the fuck he or she is doing.

3. ‘MAGIC BUTTON PEOPLE”- Another personal favorite, these are those non-tech savvy people who still purchased a cell phone or, even worse, a PDA or smartphone, and don’t want to have to do anything to make it work properly. “Can’t you just do it?” No, Homer Simpson, I don’t have a magic button I can press and resolve all your issues in one fell swoop. I’m not an I.T. guy who can log into your PC and move your cursor around. You wanted this technology, now learn how to use it! I wish there were a magic button that could push to make pee rain down on your head but I guess I’ll just have to come over and do it manually!

2. “HOW MUCH IS THAT? PEOPLE”- Permit me to explain. Asking someone how much something is is not a peeve issue. It’s to be expected. Very few people are going to purchase anything without knowing its price. But when someone asks a blanket question in regards to about three dozen options, that rankles the fur around my taint!!! For example, I have just told you that you qualify for an upgrade with 2 year discounted pricing for the phone of your choice. Instead of asking me, “How much is dat?” what you would be saying is, “Can you give me some prices on a few phones?” For you see, when someone offers you the phone of your choice, that means prices vary depending upon WHICH goddam fucking PHONE YOU WANT!!! Do you go to an auto dealership and say, “How much ya’ll charge for dem cars?” No! But it sounds like fun. Mental note: Visit car dealership in ripped T-shirt and underwear and start asking questions.

1. “NON-DISCLOSURE REPS”- Saved the best for last. Lest ye think I save all my ire for the customers whose patronage allows me to buy booze and heroin, my co-workers in the stores deserve much worse. They are supposed to know better, yet they allow themselves to become overwhelmed and overlook vital information so they can move on to the next customer. By not disclosing things like activation fees and what the next bill will look like, they effectively force them to call me. And why not? Out of sight, out of mind, right? Not quite. We have a lil’ feature called a “feedback” form that gets submitted directly to the person’s supervisor for review. Far be it for me to narc anybody out, but I had plenty of them filled out on me my first few months and most of them were for piddly shit. I don’t want anyone to get fired; I just want him or her to do their jobs…and get fired!


And there ya go- file this one under “long time coming.”

STATE OF THE SO-CALLED "UNION" part 2 in an ongoing rant

"Vote for me & I'll set you free"



It begins.

Obama and McCain campaign ads now fill our TV screens and print ads. The presidential race is in full swing!

Am I the only one who feels under-whelmed? Didn’t it seem like all the preliminary stuff was the full swing portion of the program and this is the part where they roll the end credits?

The early portion of the race felt like a poorly plotted soap opera (a redundancy, I know) complete with backstabbing, backbiting and back door dealings. The Republicans presented a stunningly lackluster selection of misfits and glory hounds while the Democrats strove for social relevancy by presenting a female and black candidate, both of whom actually had a good chance of winning. That turned everything into some sort of reality TV show where every single move and utterance from Obama and Clinton was deemed newsworthy.

On the other side of the aisle, the Republicans predictably self-destructed in a whirling miasma of narcissism, infighting and sad attempts to distance themselves from the current administration. Although I was surprised at the time, perennial candidate John Wayne McCain of the crashed planes was the only one who could have possibly emerged from the cataclysm unscathed.

The less predictable outcome was among the Democrats, who seemed evenly divided on which groundbreaking candidate would emerge victorious. Ultimately, Clinton couldn’t compete with Obama’s Robert Kennedy appeal and stepped down as ungraciously as she could manage. Now we get to decide between the two…I mean, unless you choose to issue a protest vote and endorse that flaming nut Ron Paul…


BWAAAA HAAA HAAAA HAAA

Ok, I’m back. My sides hurt, but I’m back.

Soon after the final candidates were announced, the lame ads began. True to American politics, they seemed to focus almost exclusively (can you say almost exclusively?) on whatever financial concern we are expressing currently. This election year, that means gasoline, that precious Middle-Eastern supplied fuel we refuse to replace with something else. Republicans are all about short-term solutions of a fiscal nature to long-term social and environmental issues. Thus it comes as no surprise that McCain is backing the temporary tax break on gasoline. His ads paint Obama as a person who doesn’t want to help people by signing off on this “wonderful concept.” That’s because Obama’s people, like most intelligent Americans, realize it’s a scam designed to buy votes. Even Clinton’s camp endorsed it, but that comes as no surprise when considering she was every bit as much of a power-whore as Johnny.

This race is starting to resemble a contest of wills between two American gangsta rappers or two British rock stars. Both men seem hellbent on convincing us their particular struggle was the more meaningful of the two. McCain ads show a young, idealistic military man whose time in a POW camp is supposed to consider him worthy of the Oval Orifice. Obama’s ads stress the fact that he had very little as a child and was raised by his white grandparents so bi-racial types like me will appear able to communicate with everyone on the same level. There’s also a strong theme of the value and “dignity” of hard work in his ads, implying McCain is just a fat, lazy career politician who hasn’t turned in an honest days’ work in decades.

I don’t know. I think divorcing your ailing wife and marrying a much younger million-heiress in order to jumpstart his political aspirations took some serious hard work. No community organizer in the world will ever put that much effort into what they are doing!

I haven’t been interested in politics in a long, long time. The twenty-first century has seen the eroding of the political process and a withering away at democracy that disgusts and depresses me. Only recently have people started acting like they notice, and it is probably much too late.

Even the ads seem lackluster this time around, as if very little effort was invested into them. Perhaps none is required. The excitement drummed up during the primaries has guaranteed a large voter turnout this November. All the candidates need to do is remind us they are there and have a few debates to display their expert issue-avoidance skills.

I have a preference between the two candidates and I hope he wins, but a significant part of me refuses to believe it will make a difference. As Rage Against the Machine once sang, “The structure is set/You’ll never change it with a ballot pull.” I can’t separate myself from my cynicism. Nor from the feeling that nothing short of (hopefully bloodless) revolution will ever turn this country away from its self-destructive, tyrannical path.

I hardly even notice the ads anymore, except when I force myself to watch them. I definitely won’t be making a protest vote for a third party candidate this year the way I did in 2000 when Gore was a supposed shoe-in for president and I figured what would it hurt to give Nader my vote. I still don’t believe those who voted for Nader cost Gore the election. I believe Gore cost Gore the election by deemphasizing his connection to Clinton and not creating a rapport with the common folk.

But the elections of this decade are far too important to risk on protest votes anymore. We are now in a struggle for our very survival as a nation. This is true of both sides of the aisle and all in-between.

Let us choose wisely this time~





*Death to the facist insect that preys upon the minds of the people*

FROM BLUEZ' HONEY-POT TO SCRIBE'S TONGUE TO YA'LLZ EARS:

1) One movie made you laugh?

I laugh at lots of movies, the Big Lebowski and Blazing Saddles make me laugh as if I'm seeing them for the first time every time. I also cracked up at Titanic when Leo's fingers broke off the raft and he went down into Davey Jones' locker.

2) One movie that made you cry?

Cry? Only bitches cry! And by "bitches" I mean men significantly missing their tri-pods ifyaknowhatumsayin'! Sheeeiit! Scribe don'ty cry for no thang and no body! Are the girls gone? OK, lock the door....thanks! I cried like an abused baby in an iron lung when I saw "Frequency" with Dennis Quaid and that guy who played Jesus in the Mel Gibson S&M flick. Like a baby!!!! Oh, here come the chicks. AHEM!!! I cry at the end of Titanic, ladies, wink-wink...

3) One movie you loved as a child.

I continue to love movies I loved as a child, for the most part. Am I supposed to pick one I don't like anymore? If so, it would have to be Top Gun. As an adult, I realize it was little more than a jingoistic two hour ad for the Navy with one kick-ass fighter sequence at the end and a grade school romance story. Oh, and they killed off Goose in a training accident. GOOOOSSSSSE!!!

4) One movie you have you seen more than once
I saw the Empire Strikes Back 30 times!!! While it was in theatrical release! And that doesn't include the times I stayed in the theater and watched it a second time.

5) One movie are you embarrassed to admit to seeing

"One Fine Day" with Clooney and Pfeiffer. What a cliche-filled piece of pablum.

6) One movie you hated

"Smokin' Aces." Agonizingly derivative hipster crap that looked like it was shot by an epileptic on speed.

7) One movie that scared you.

The original non-PC "Halloween."

8) One movie that bored you:

"Out of Africa." Either that or the African countryside looked an awful lot like the back of my eyelids!

9) One movie that made you happy:

The latest Indiana Jones. Exactly what I was hoping for.

10) One movie that made you miserable:

"Somewhere in Time." I was ready to slit my wrists and my scrotum.

11) One move you were brave enough to see:

"Sex in the City" on opening night. The horror. The shoes. The horror.

12) One movie character you fell in love with.

Princess Amidala from the Star Wars prequels. My intergalatic Israeli dreamgirl.

13) Last movie you saw on the big screen:

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull


14) Next movie you want to see on the big screen:

Hancock, because the title makes me giggle like a schoolgirl with erect nipples in a summer dress.


Click this link for a special announcement:
http://seriousdiscussions.blogspot.com/

SCRIBE'S SHITTY, SHITTY NIGHT

What is the genesis of a shitty night? From where does it originate? What are its primary causes, and why does it always seem to happen at the conclusion of those days that seemed rather benign?

Answer: EFB!!!

Surely we all have one in our lives. Perhaps you don’t even realize it yet, but trust me, ya do! In fact, I believe the EFB is a function of nature more than it is a quirk of fate. Depending on your karma (the Buddhist definition based on false perceptions and actions rather than the Hindu one of a universal motivating force that cannot be escaped) your EFB might only be a nuisance at work or the crabby lady who runs your day care. Make no mistake; EFB’s can just as easily be male. It doesn’t really mater what is between their legs. An Evil Fucking Bitch is an Evil Fucking Bastard regardless.

Much like Damien from the Omen films, the second one in particular, many EFB’s aren’t aware of their inherent evil qualities. Many of them see themselves as good people who were sent here to set us all straight and keep us in check. I’m sure most of you can probably even find online examples of this, let alone experiences from your personal lives.

It’s fascinating to me what an EFB will use as justification for their egregious behavior. Religion, intellectual superiority and even OCD are just a few of the ones to which I’ve born witness. My particular EFB uses the latter as her form of self-defense. I guess that makes it okay to antagonize people when they disappoint you and to ignore the fact that people around you are caused severe stress by your constant diatribes and tantrums.

Case in point: July 4th. EFB’s sister’s house. Cookout. Free food. Kid’s birthday party. Not exactly the place one would expect even the most twisted human being to find something to become enraged over, but an EFB can find any reason to be pissed off.

Surprisingly, it took much longer than it did in the old days. Perhaps that’s some demented form of progress. It wasn’t until her niece, the one who’s seventeen and bears a striking resemblance to her, came downstairs and joined the party that things took a turn for the worse. EFB’s family ranges in wealth from very rich to well to do, to well off. The wealthier the kid, the more screwed up he or she is. The wealthiest of them, her nephew, spent 6 months in a facility for people who have done very bad things to their bodies. He requested this as a way to get help. His older brother, it turns out, may have been his gateway and has a drunk driving conviction in his past...he isn’t even twenty-one yet. But nobody could have guessed little bro would wind up running with kids from the street and joining in on their uh, entrepreneurial ventures.

Her niece, who she considers to be above all the rest because she is “perfect, beautiful and blond”, has her share of issues as well. In fact, she has more issues than Life Magazine! In fairness to an under-age girl, I won’t go into “pacifics,” but I will provide a basic outline.

Like most rich kids, EFB’s niece enjoys thinking she is invincible. She also enjoys sneaking out of the house late at night, shimmying down her window from her third floor bedroom, and indulging herself in dance and drink. She is nowhere near as bad as her even richer nephew, who, let’s just say, just got back in town after months being placed on a new “life-path.”

One would think wealthy parents would have even more control over their children than the middle class but such is rarely the case. They excel at rationalization, however, which ensures the continued piss s poor behavior patterns and the public perception that rich kids can do whatever they want. Well, they can’t. At least not in the State of Michigan. In fact, the cops in those towns are targeting them like crazy, harassing them behind the wheel and rounding them up when they have parties with alcohol and/or drugs. His has created a huge resentment between cops and rich kids and has naturally led to even more piss poor behavior and lots of revenue for the courts.

My opinion of all of this should be obvious from the tone of what is above, but just in case it isn’t, allow me to elucidate. Her nephew wound up living a lifestyle highly imitative of what you see on the streets, complete with inner city connections. It started with him playing football at his high school, which put him in contact with gang members from the cities of Pontiac and Detroit. Having a rich white kid with connections who also happens to be pretty tough and kinda “crazy” is the dream of every no good, lowdown gangsta in the hood. They got that and more from EFB’s nephew, and so the nightmare for began. It ended recently, by all appearances, but while he was away getting better, EFB was the only one of his aunts and uncles to never write to him with words of encouragement.

I probably had something to do with that. In the beginning, EFB went on and on about what a brave kid he was for volunteering to go to a facility that cost his parents enough to make the median income for an upper middle class family. I disagreed. In my view, he was an ungrateful little shit that used his status as a rich kid to get out of the life he’d chosen once he’d made his point, akin to a Christian recanting on his death-bed. She wanted me to write to him because I would be an objective male voice and I refused. Not only do I barely know this kid, but in general I feel no connection to the children in her family. They are like aliens to me, even the likable ones.

At some point EFB must have decided I was right when I said kids with every
conceivable advantage have no excuse to go down that particular road. Drugs, drinking,
teen pregnancy, these are things that make sense. Even a rich kid’s life can suck. But
running with gangs in the heart of the inner city is something only those with nothing
and no one should ever even consider doing, and it isn’t right when they do it either.

EFB never wrote to him, enduring harsh criticism from some family member’s and
begrudging understanding from others. Say what you will about her, EFB doesn’t tow the
party line when it comes a disagreement with her family. Keeping the peace isn’t part of
her philosophy, which I have to admire considering the type of family that spawned her.

What usually shut her family up when I was around was that I could relate a similar
tale of my cousin to that of her nephew. He too had plenty of advantages, but he at
least had the “Virtue” of coming from a dysfunctional background and a broken home in
his early years. Being treated like a resource by your mom as she re-marries twice can’t
be the best morale builder for a kid. But none of that was an excuse for him to become a
gang member and do the things he did, either. What can they say to that? EFB’s family is
long on theory and short on practical application.


This brings us full circle to July 4th at her sister’s house. Her niece remained in her room
most of the day, grounded for having been part of a party involving drinking and
smarting off at a cop. Her “perfect, blond niece” wound up in a holding cell. As
shocking as EFB found this, and I stress she found it shocking, what really got to her
was what her niece said to her regarding her nephew.

“Yeah, I know you didn’t know where (he) was this whole time so that’s why you didn’t
write to him.”

When EFB asked where her niece got this mound of horse-flop from, she replied,
“Gramma.”

EFB made sure her niece knew exactly why she hadn’t written her nephew. She seemed
cool with it and it appeared as though the situation had been dealt with and was out of
sight, out of mind.

The following night, at around one in the morning, as I was dozing off from a
long day at the beach in preparation for work in the morning, EFB suddenly exclaimed,
“I’m sorry, Scribe, I need to make this phone call!”

The next 30 or so minutes were filled with her yelling at her mom about what she had
said to her niece and getting hung up on. It didn’t seem to matter that I was right there
trying to sleep. I even tried logic, to no avail. Nothing penetrates her madness when she
is on a crusade. All she wound up doing was causing me to fall asleep at work and her
mom to become so depressed she just wanted to sleep in all day and rarely answer the
phone.

I don’t disagree with the points she made to her mom but spending the entire night
ranting about it accomplished nothing but alienation. Somebody recently asked me what
I have against family? Nothing, but I am more and more glad that I don’t interact with
mine that much anymore. Family is like a wart in some ways. There because you were
born with it but not necessarily desirable or of any real use.

What a night.

And now stay tuned for something like a poem...

(Photo & Words by Scribe)

Was it you?
It couldn’t have been.
It looked like you.
It couldn’t have been.
I didn’t believe it at first.
I went past you so many times,
So many times it must have looked,
Like I was stalking you.

I was shocked,
Frightened, perhaps,
Unwilling to accept what I was seeing.
WHO I was seeing.

I felt instant recognition,
Did you?
I couldn’t tell.
There seemed to be something there,
But you were so far gone,
In some world all your own.


Your eyes were filled,
With insanity.
I remembered that look,
The barest hint of,
Things to come.

I watched you,
Saddened & disgusted,
The desperation flashing like a beacon,
To your empty soul.
What were you seeking?
What did you think you needed?

What happened to you?

Was it you?
Yes, it was.
I wish it hadn’t been.
I brought what I saw back with me,
And now it won’t go away~

SCRIBE'S LIST OF SHITE TO DO BEFORE HE IS KILLED BY SOMEONE'S JEALOUS HUSBAND:

Twin Japanese hotties Fook Me & Fook U approached Austin Powers one at a time and told him they were ready to throw it to him. Austin, still able to be shocked by such a wonderful development, was understandably flustered for a moment. As he invited them to join him on his revolving swinger’s bed, he paused for a moment and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was a list of things he wanted to do before he died, and Japanese twins were the next to last item on it. It was a funny gag, but it also got me thinking as only a comedy about a swingin’ spy could: What would be on my list?

I thought long and hard and finally gave up and threw this shit together:

(In no particular odor)

10. Attend a Neal Diamond concert expressly for the “Sweet Caroline” sing-a-long segment while providing Mr. Diamond with full frontal nudity from the back of the concert hall. One look at what the Scribe is cookin’ and I firmly believe he will switch teams and set me up in my own mansion. “So good, so good, so good” indeed!

9. Go to the Philippines with posters printed up that make it look as if my “new movie” is coming out and let the hineys fall where they may! I’d need an entourage, of course, and that’s where you come in. You need to be my people so I can score with Filipinas since I hear it’s so difficult and all.

8. Write, direct and star in the most offensive film ever made and film it in Israel, Mecca and the on the Great Wall of China. Israel will be renamed “Wacky Religion Town,” Mecca will be “The secret gay stronghold where everyone is taught to bow repeatedly,” and I’ll rename the Wall the Great Wall of Vagina. Eh? eh? The stars will be convicted rapists and Prostitute on parole (in real life) looking for the Holiest artifact ever…the Fabled Golden Baby’s Scrotum. People will love it universally and finally stop being so uptight about things and hate each other for who we really are. This was a vision given unto me by God…at least, I think it was God. She said she could give me life and take it away!
…Mommy?

7. Become a bona fide cult leader who draws his inspiration and belief system from the unlikely trinity of Mel Gibson, Paula Poundstone and Vic Tayback.

Take a ride on a spaceship, see the stars and the planets up close, encounter new life and new civilizations…boink alien women with or without tentacles, kill my benevolent crew and take their ship, conquer another world then several worlds, create a following based on my perceived godhood, come back to Earth and conquer it. Then she’ll have to take me back!

5. Finally get to the bottom of this whole creationism vs. evolution conundrum by time traveling back to the primordial moment of conception with a video camera. Once I’m there I will add my own ejaculateto the mixture and create prehistorical Scribe’s, each with a different pre-programmed biological imperative. Some will be hunters and gatherers; some will be artists and philosophers. But most of them will be pioneers in the fast food industry so that when the present is reorganized, we can actually understand the workers at these places and the orders will be accurate! Then I’ll believe there’s a God!!!

4. Find true love, cause it to cheat with me, and expose it for the hideous illusion it really is. Once that’s done, True Love and I will become Fox News pundits where we will yell and whine at each other and others as we abuse and demean all those who come to speak in the name of eternal love. Eventually, True Love and I will become lovers and I will introduce him/her/it to the midget Porn, er I mean lil' folk erotica underground where True Love will be required to sleep with only the homliest lil' folk , resulting in some truly horrible fighting and a bad break-up that will result in a book deal for both of us.

3. Become a high-placed lottery and Lotto executive so I can gain access to the system and rig all results so the winners will be rich people…regardless of whether or not they play. I will institute a huge PR campaign letting all the poor and middle class folk see these millionaires winning the lottery. At some point there will be a revolution against the proletariat and I will be its benevolent, elected leader-for-life. I came up with this when I realized Americans are far too shallow nowadays to revolt against anything that doesn’t involve their sense of entitlement when it comes to getting free shit.

2. Re-open the Mustang Ranch as a combination whorehouse and theme park. While the dads and moms are exploring their inner selves (or the inner selves of my employees) the kids can enjoy such fun rides as the Chlamydia Coaster and the Hall of Syphilis. Finally there will be an alternative to those other theme parks that tyrannically force families to stick together for entire vacations or “holidays” for our horny European friends. Now the family unit will be strengthened considerably when the day has concluded and daddy and mommy have a strange itching sensation. Everybody can then go to the emergency room together and the fun won’t cease as the kids get to participate in the dispensing of antibiotics and other suppressers. I will, of course, be hailed as some type of New Age entertainment guru and there will be statues in my honor set up to replace all those silly saints in front of Catholic churches. Instead you’ll see representations of me ‘n mah ho's!!!

1. Make love to some air headed hottie on international satellite hook-up from a stolen space shuttle a la’ “Moonraker” while the world looks on in abject horror when they realize there are no more TV shows except Scribe TV! All Scribe, all the time, bitches!!!! Tune in, turn on and fuck off!!!


As you know, I’ve already accomplished seven of these attainable objectives. And since you do know, I won’t need to repeat myself, right? Right!

Can’t wait to do those other three!!!