roryshock

straight from the sphincter: fly on the wall's reports of president bush's love for fart humor corroborated by inside sources

2006-08-24T19:52:00.000-07:00

yep, friends. the most flatulent president in history. obsessed with fart humor. you thought rory was kiddin'? frick no. rory wasn't kiddin'. the puerile obsession is part of dub's fiction based reality. as pointed out by U.S. News and World Report, w even likes to let 'em rip in an effort to amuse new hires. oh razor-tongued tina of fuzzy and blue, rory bows his head in thanks for your post vindicating his and fly on the wall's work . some said it was silly of rory to post about bush's out-of-control sphincter songs. but rory had a journalistic obligation to bring the story to the people, despite the skepticism, the turning away, the revulsion. truly though, it was fly on the wall who broke the story of dub's wind. oh fly, clairvoyant insect from a distant planet who selected rory as his earthly messenger to humankind! oh remarkable fly, we celebrate tonight, you and I! like an eruption from the 60-year-old cheeks of dub, the foul truth will out!

Oh, dub indeed farts indiscriminately. He said to this child in church: "Son, you'll always remember the day you stood before this pew. May god love you." Then, a sound similar to the scream of a ferret being brutally wrung like a wet towel tore through the seat-seam of his tailored trousers leaving a stain that few would see:

dub sometimes envelopes those less fortunate than he in the warmth of his bottom-fed humor. he craves the attention, the laughter, the acceptance he feels when another being is amused by the windsong escaping his puckered flesh-trumpet.

for those who never visited and those who might wish to revisit now that even the most skeptical must accept the fair, balanced, accurate coverage of dub's babbling bowel, the gibbering madman's methane-breathing under-mouth, rory offers you easy access to the complete compendium of rory 'n' fly's coverage of the pennsylvania avenue pooter, the crawford crepitator, THE MOST FLATULENT PRESIDENT IN HISTORY:

roryshock: President Bush Reveals Puerile Obsession With Fart Humor Under Stress in India. Indian Muslims Outraged. "This is worse than the cartoons," some say.

roryshock: The Most Flatulent President In History Photo Essay II: More Scenes of Bush's Puerile Humor From the First Stench-Trench

roryshock: The Most Flatulent President In History Photo Essay III -- Nero Fiddled, Bush Farted

roryshock: Most Flatulent President In History -- IV

roryshock: the most flatulent president in history "rides" again

although not entirely about the first flatulence, the following post reports bush's attempt to woo German Chancellor Merkel with nether-mouth-music:

roryshock: bush admits to lusting after german chancellor merkel after he "glimpsed her soul"

Harmless in Nature -- Potentially Dangerous in Sauerbraten: the Cicada.

2006-08-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

rory, rory, rory, what the frick brings this on? well, it's like this, rory's head voice sez to rory's head ear:

"This possibly drowned annual cicada you fished from the drink recently isn't really frickin' annual, now, is it?" Whatchoomean? It's been said many times, many ways, but here's how it's put in A Field Guide to the Insects of America North of Mexico:

Most cicadas are large blackish insects, often with greenish markings, that appear each year in July and August; their life cycle lasts 2-5 or more years, but the broods overlap and adults are present each year.

yabbut, rory, ain't they "annual" in the sense that there are adults present annually. yabbut, rory, when one hear's the term "annual" one thinks that the life cycle takes a year, or something, doesn't one? alright, alright. but rory was reminded by all this of something that is beyond debate, beyond semantics, beyond scientific or psuedoscientific quibbling. oh frickin' A, as they say, "If one thing is certain," it's that my old dog, Junior, long gone, sure as shit not forgotten, loved to eat cicadas. annually. here's old Junior. handsome sumbitch, innit-hee?
this photo was taken by a wee child, roryz son, hence the artistic cropjob. shows the soulful, cicada eatin' old Junior. rory could tell you storyz 'bout him. those were the dayz for dogs. how he made love to a naugahyde jacket in front of guests--like it was nobody's business--with a happy ending, how he climbed 20' up a tree and leaped off into a bush, how he became buddies with a skunk, how for a time he trotted shotgun for a "bum" who scavenged a makeshift bar parking lot for dropped dinero after a new day's dawn, things like that. fuckin' canine kerouac, he was. but on the subject of cicadas: he loved 'em. he'd leap into the air and snatch 'em, chomp 'em still buzzin' in his chops. no mammal has out-experienced the ecstasy of old Junior during the onslaught of the periodical cicadas, the smaller black and red ones that come out every 13 or 17 years as the brood erupts into a brief-in-the-frickin-cosmic-scheme-of-things buzzing festival of sound and sex. for old Junior was it the buzz or the flavor or the joy of the hunt? or all of the above and a smell that we humanz can't appreciate? I dunno. never leapt into the air and caught one in my teeth and chomped it still buzzing. but then maybe rory should give that a try anyway. if for no other reason than to renew appreciation for the eye-snout coordination of good old canis familiaris.

but, then, rory, you ignurnt sumbitch, turns out plenty of folks eat cicadas. and it seems to be a well-known fact that dogs 'n' catz love 'em. mostly seems to be the periodical cicadas that are big for eatin'. cause there are so many it's like pickin' ripe grapes off a vine, perhaps. yummity yum yum cicada's are good 'n' good for ya too. tastes a little like crawdad. and as the link points out they're low in fat and high in protein. so what about recipes. shee-it, there are lot of 'em. for 'sample: try some curried cicadas or perhaps cicada sauerbraten.

But just when rory starts thinkin' it's safe to eat cicadas he comes across this specimen of the infamous literary form known as the DISCLAIMER! HFS!

**Disclaimer: the University of Maryland and Cicadamaniacs do not advocate eating cicadas without first consulting with your doctor. While many people do eat cicadas, there is no guarantee that they are safe for every person to eat. As with all foods, it is possible that certain individuals, will have allergic reactions to substances within the cicada.**

HFS!!! CICADA MEAT CAN BE DEADLY!

So, rory'll make a dr.'s appointment before eating a cicada. when the assistant asks "What brings you here today, Mr. Shock?" rory'll just fuckin' say, "Well, I'm planning to eat some Cicadas, but I think the Dr. will want to run some tests to make sure that is safe, or something." forget the frickin' dr's appointment. I dunno 'bout you, but I don't advocate spending the money to ask your dr. whether it is safe for you to eat a cicada. I don't think the frickin' average dr. has any frickin' clue about cicada consumption safety. here's roryz plan. I'm gonna eat my first cicadas just outside the local emergency room. i'll sit there for as long as it takes to be sure I'm safe. but if I start to feel the onset of serious problems I'll go inside and tell 'em to get on the good foot and help me 'cause I got a bad case of cicada poisoning.

Disclaimer: roryshock duz not advocate eating cicadas without preparations being made for sudden painful death. in fact there is very little that rory advocates you do unless you are prepared to die. but that's another subject. if you must eat cicadas, do so close to a well-staffed emergency room, preferably one that has personnel trained to deal with adverse reactions to cicada consumption and that will take your medical condition seriously instead of stripping you naked and giving you a suit of paper jammies, a shot of thorazine, and a bed in the rubber-walled hotel, pending evaluation by a psychiatrist with whom you have trouble communicating because of differing native tongues.

oh yeah, rory almost forgot: here's where you can get the recipes prefaced by the disclaimer, if you desire, and if you dare: more yummy but dangerous cicada recipes.

aw, fuckit. i think I'll just have a cup of coffee. my currently living best canis familiaris buddy recommends coffee over cicadas anyhow.

the most flatulent president in history "rides" again

2006-08-19T15:33:00.000-07:00

nope, he's not just a two-fingered monkey chokin' sumbitch. he's also the first gasbag. the most flatulent president in history. if the administration had a band, it'd be Talking Sphincters. clickitup:

dub was responded to the following question at a recent press conference: "Mr. President does your administration have any new initiatives to report to deal with the global warming problem?"

just before the next photo was taken, dub had made an off-the-cuff remark about how he wasn't hearing enough "thank you's" from the Iraqi people, and said, "With all the resources we are pouring into Iraq, they should be thanking us a whole lot more, but they're afraid to thank us because of the Islamic fascists." He then mounted the immobile, gasless Harley and pretended to ride. pretty frickin' symbolic, rory would say. but who the fuck would've thought that he'd add his own motor noises to the sillyass spectacle?

at least when the prime minister of japan lip-syncs it's to elvis and he doesn't use his nether mouth. what a frickin' cutup el presidente is, though.

dub sure-as-shit luvz ta play pretend. here he saws the air and makes sawing noises. notice the immaculate work gloves. every time you see a photo of the sumbitch working take a look at the brand-spankin' new work gloves that haven't even got a bit o dirt on em and haven't even taken on the form of real human handz at all. like cartoon character gluvz. make-believe man. like a kid with a toy tool belt. but at the same time the photo is symbolic of the larger dub again. makin' believe with his little saw. but causing death around him. look at the felled plant life around him. why? because he likes to "clear brush." why does he need to fucking "clear brush." he is clearing brush for the sake of clearing brush. recreational brush clearing. what a fuckwad. course somewhere in the convolutions of the pea in the first noggin' he has begun to believe that "clearing brush" is manly. like mounting a Harley, even if it ain't goin' anywhere. here is the manly man playing air saw.

by the frickin' way, that cycle image causes rory to recall that danger is just out the back door even when dub mounts a frickin' non-motorized two-wheeler and lets one rip:

roryshock: Bush Indicted On Wanglingo for Reckless Bicycling: privilege to Operate Wheeled Vehicles Suspended for Ramming Policeman

dub diddles as the world burns

2006-08-18T05:52:00.000-07:00

Regarding the following picture, rory draws no conclusions, draws no frickin’ lines between the photo of dub touching himself during a tense moment and the passage that follows the picture. Suffice it to say that at least one head of state may have been airbrushed out of this pic ... or ... was Chancellor Angela right?

“Sometimes an adult with dementia or another form of brain illness will begin to masturbate compulsively or publicly, either at home or in a long-term care facility. Often this is triggered by a change in medications, a worsening of the underlying condition, or a new medical problem that has developed. Much less commonly, compulsive or public masturbation develops in adults who were previously healthy. Under these circumstances, a thorough medical evaluation should be perfumed [that frickin’ typo is in the original and rory thought it was too frickin’ good to correct] to look for new neurological or psychiatric illness.”
erudite bit on compulsive baton polishers

I dunno.

Chilito Numnutz to Spearhead Nude Flight Program in Name of National Security

2006-08-15T15:07:00.000-07:00

what? you're frickin' suprized? incredulous? wtf? of course bush's secret hatchet man is a kristian killer klown. truth of the matter is, flyonthewall smuggled this image of chilito to rory's hard drive. chilito's true identity is not even known by the president. he only reveals himself to a select few while in his kkk suit, as depicted here. now that we've got that little detour out of the way, lemme tell you, chilito claims to have solved the airline security problem.

A memorandum he has distributed to Homie Security Head Miguel Cherkoff, rumbo, w, and chainee, says, among other things: "check-in would be expedited and security enhanced if airline passengers traveled naked and shackled to the seats. a slightly harsher version of this has proven entirely safe in transporting enemy combatants, known terrorists, and innocent captures all over the world in recent years on our 'black flights'. shackling would actually enhance our ability to respect privacy as it would largely obviate the need for cavity searches, since the passenger would be denied access to any instrumentalities that might be carried in the form of what is known in the parlance of the trade as 'koester weapons.'"

Polls of airline passengers yielded suprising results: 47% said they would gladly travel nude and shackled into their seats if it meant they were safe and delays for security screening could be reduced. (Compare to earlier numbers regarding willingness to submit to cavity searches in the name of safety). roryshock: Submit to a cavity search? "By all means go ahead," respond many, particularly if the "war on terror" is mentioned!

Random Rory: Blindspots

2006-08-09T18:44:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago rory was watching a pair of lovely rattlers in company.

pair of rattlers. a boy and a girl. took a photo. never noticed the earthworm. in the picture, it looks like it's headin' the same way as the snakes. didn't see the earthworm 'til I got back and downloaded the picture. but it was there. just that it was invisible to my snake-charmed eyes 'n' brain. made me wonder if its image was in my brain at all. maybe just not at the conscious level. dunno. maybe it wasn't in there at all?

how in the hell could that be? dunno. made me think of a trick roryz dad showed him when he wuz a kid though. something 'bout a blind spot and a penny on the floor. the human eye has a blind spot where the nerves and blood vessels leave the retina. scotoma, some call it. fancy word for area of diminished vision within the visual field. so, you can check it out very easily. it's fun even if you've done it before. make something like this on a piece of blank paper:

make the marks about 2" apart. doesn't hafta be exact. doesn't hafta be an X and an O, either. could be a tiny george frickin bush on one side and a mouse turd on the other. rory knowz which one he'd make disappear first in that case. anyhoo, first close your left eye and look at the mark on the left with your right eye. move the paper slowly backwards and forwards in front of your face. At a certain point (fairly close ... maybe 20 or 30 cm) the mark on the right will disappear. For this to work you've gotta really focus on the mark on the left. no peekin' to the right. You can of course do the same thing other way around: close right eye; look at right mark with left eye; adjust distance of paper; left mark disappears. how come? 'cause there's a frickin' blind spot. see, we pretty much always make up some of the shit that we "see." happens in the brain. If you don't feel like makin' marks on paper, try it right on your computer screen with rory's x and o. should work okay, and you'll look funny to boot with one eye squinched and your nose a few inches from the screen.

all of which reminds rory. it's so damn easy to forget blindspots of all kinds. rory damn sure has more than those in the eyeballs. good to remember the existence of blindspots once in awhile. if at all possible. which it isn't too often.

U.S. Air Force to Bomb High Crime Neighborhoods to Establish Buffer Zones

2006-08-05T10:45:00.000-07:00

What if the Israeli self-defense methods were used here to battle evildoers AND there were a frickin’ “Truth in Leafleting Law?” rory has learned of a secret plan to use those methods here, a plan hatched by Rear Admiral Chilito Numnutz and approved by Rumbo, which is a Condi-hair away from approval.

Imagine, if ya will, an Amurikin high-crime neighborhood will be leafletted the day before bombing begins. The leaflets blown about the neighborhood by the harbinger, the aerially-detonating propaganda bomb, will read:

“You have 24 hours to vacate. We are not interested in hurting you. We are only interested summarily executing the murderers, thieves, rapists, child molesters, and miscellaneous bad people living within your neighborhoods, using ordinary homes as shelter. We intend to create a buffer zone around a community of safer suburban homes, as there was a recent violent incident in an affluent neighborhood adjacent to yours instigated by a thug from your neighborhood. As a result, we plan to turn your neighborhood into a wasteland, bomb it into rubble, cut off electricity, blow up your local gas stations, and blast apart the roads, bridges, and train tracks in and out, in order to deny bad people a safe haven next to good people. You will have no source of clean water or food if you stay home. However, remember there is always some risk that we will blow you off the remnants of the ruined roads as you try to flee. The Lebanese woman depicted in this photograph near the gutted hulks of fleeing vehicles seems to have trouble comprehending this phenomenon and remains in denial of the beneficial aspects of the Israeli self-defense actions she just witnessed.

We hope this informative leaflet helps you avoid the confusion she experienced. Please understand, you are not our stated target even if we place you in our gunsites and kill you. For example, sometimes it is difficult to tell the difference between evildoers and the people, say, delivering fruit, transporting humanitarian supplies, or just running away in terror from the violent forces of good.

Please understand, relatively hairless apes all look the very similar from the cockpits of aerial death delivery systems. The evildoers themselves foment these unfortunate mistakes, which we regret in advance as tragic, by making efforts to dress and behave like ordinary humans. It's all part their guerilla effort to escape justice. Please, even as you or your loved ones lie bleeding from shrapnel, or masonry fragments imbedded in skin, or perhaps writhe while screaming from white phosphorus or gasoline burns, keep in mind that criminals and terrorists are our intended targets, not you or your loved ones. Thus your pain does not bother our conscience in the least. You see, there is a moral difference between the bad things evildoers do and the much more widespread and hideous destruction we wreak. For example, this scene elicits no pangs of remorse because the Lebanese child shown here died for the stated purpose of preventing terrorists from violently killing:

Yes, there is a moral difference when we kill. We state that we have good intentions, for one thing. It is the criminals and terrorists you must blame for the violence we will inflict upon you. You must blame them as well for the children crushed or blown into pieces, the destruction of your humble homes, the loss of all you have, as we destroy your habitat. The criminals have made us into the violent monster that we are. It is really not our fault. We have no choice. We must defend ourselves. We have no control over the fact that for every suspected violent criminal or terrorist that we manage to assassinate extrajudicially we will kill ten times more innocents for whom we cannot even fabricate a scintilla of suspicion. We merely seek to establish a safe zone around our neighborhood. That is our intention. We do not intend to hurt you, although we acknowledge that we inevitibly will. And remember if you had killed or incarcerated the criminals yourself, we wouldn't be forced to destroy your lives now. Thank you for your cooperation as we work together in violence to solve the problem of violence. Oh, and be out by sundown or face certain death. --The Mighty Righteous Ones.”

"Bush must be thinkin' of committing crimes against humanity ... I guess."

2006-07-23T16:40:00.000-07:00

That was rory's answer to the question someone posed to me over a cup of coffee a few years back when Bush decided to back out of participation in and avoid the reach of the International Criminal Court that has jurisdiction over war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide. rory made one of those cynical statements that back in the day he maybe only half believed when he said it 'cause it just seemed too fucked up.

oh, fuckin' A georgie porgie.

Here's a little bit about the Court, from Human Rights Watch:

[roryz note: Note that Iraq (i.e. Iraq under Saddam), Israel, and the United States were among the tiny minority that refused to sign on. Again, why the fuck would you refuse to submit to a tribunal of laws from which you have nothing to fear unless you commit crimes against humanity, genocide, or war crimes? Bingo! I think we all know the frickin' answer, now, don't we? And it ain't no joke. No cynical throwaway comment. Just the truth revealed by that history makin' pseudo-cowboy in the frickin' whitehouse, his former asshole buddy saddam, and his current asshole buddy, Ehud Olmert.]

okay, so HERE'S that little bit from Human Rights Watch:

"At the end of the bloodiest century in human history, the international community adopted a treaty creating the world's first independent and permanent International Criminal Court. That court is now a reality. The International Criminal Court (ICC) is able to investigate and prosecute those individuals accused of crimes against humanity, genocide, and crimes of war. The ICC complements existing national judicial systems and will step in only if national courts are unwilling or unable to investigate or prosecute such crimes. The ICC will also help defend the rights of those, such as women and children, who have often had little recourse to justice.

The Statute outlining the creation of the court was adopted at an international conference in Rome on July 17, 1998. After 5 weeks of intense negotiations, 120 countries voted to adopt the treaty. Only seven countries voted against it (including China, Israel, Iraq, and the United States) and 21 abstained. 139 states signed the treaty by the 31 December 2000 deadline. 66 countries — 6 more than the threshold needed to establish the court — ratified the treaty on 11 April 2002. This meant that the ICC's jurisdiction commenced on July 1, 2002. From February 3 - 7, 2003, the court's Assembly of States Parties — the ICC's governing body — elected the court's first 18 judges. The resulting high quality and diverse judicial bench (the judges include 7 women and represent all the regions of the world) were sworn into office on March 11 in The Hague, the seat of the court. On April 21, 2003, the Assembly of States Parties elected the chief prosecutor, Luis Moreno Ocampo, best known for his role as deputy prosecutor in the trials of Argentina's former military junta in the 1980s."

well, fuckit, who needs a stinkin' human rights tribunal when you've got "fundamental american morals" to guide you, to quote dub, or in other cases, such as that of Ehud the Executioner, "fundamental israeli morals?"

recall that the smarmy, sanctimonious killer-klown-in-chief recently spoke about "fundamental american morals" when he speechified and photo-opped with former blastulas at the white house to celebrate his courageous veto of stem cell research. Here's a little bit of the speech of which he is right fuckin' proud and a picture of him holding up a former cell clump, also known as a child, to some, and to still others as an ex-blastula.

w holds up a former blastula:

w: waxes sanctimonious about former blastulas:

"These boys and girls are not spare parts. (Applause.) They remind us of what is lost when embryos are destroyed in the name of research. They remind us that we all begin our lives as a small collection of cells. And they remind us that in our zeal for new treatments and cures, America must never abandon our fundamental morals," w said.

dub, was this child no better than a "spare part?"

dub, does this remind you of what is lost when an embryo is destroyed in the name of research?

dub, does this remind you that you began his life as a small collection of cells?

dub, does this remind you that must never abandon your fundamental values?

guess what you insincere, sanctimonious peckerhead? children are wise in simple ways sometimes. this one speaks for all the children of the world. this one has both sensed and revealed the vile spirit of the heartless war criminal. this one has SEEN you and reminded us of what has been lost, what has been destroyed, by you in your zeal with your fucking fundamental values:

and by the way dub, you ain't the first to believe that you could sow the seeds of death and never face judgment before an international tribunal, are you now?

president peckerwood’s sanctimonious stem cell speech

human rights watch on international criminal court

Are recent atrocities in Iraq attributed to new 'this-war-is-nasty-endless-bullshit-so-we-don't-give-a-shit-if-you-are-criminal-scum' recruitment?

2006-07-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Or are there too many "perfect" soldiers?

when ya clickituptasize ya see that the caption reads: "Army Medical Examiner. 'At last a perfect soldier!'" cartoon appeared in The Masses, 1916.

well rory read about a good soldier (ain't no such thing as 'perfection' in a nekked ape) today in the New York frickin' Times. a man who ain't gonna shoot unarmed civilians and then cry "I vass only following orderz." hell no, he ain't even gonna go. rory salutes 1st Lt. Ehren Watada, a brave man of honor. Watada is one of the troops. Story has been out on the blogs for awhile, but now its hittin' the main mainstream. rory sez: fuck the dirty war. fuck bush. fuck cheney. fuck condi. fuck colin for being a fucking coward after all and doing w's lying for him. fuck rumbo. fuck the nsa. fuck the killers of children. fuck the givers of orders to kill all men of military age. fuck the takers of illegal orders. fuck war criminals. long live watada bravest of all the aforementioned for sure. support the vast majority of the troops who are just getting fucked in the ass. support the troops who support the right to dissent. support the troops who do in fact dissent. support the conscientious objectors. support the fucking bill of rights. support the makers of magnetic ribbons with support messages on them. support sanity. support thought. support your local sheriff. support balls. support breasts. support stockings. and "hey W SUPPORT THIS!"

BAD TOUCH: THE TRUTH ABOUT BUSH'S ASSAULT ON GERMAN CHANCELLOR ANGELA MERKEL'S SHOULDERS

2006-07-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

perhaps a handful of the rory-reading handful will recall the previous bush-merkel post that exposed w lusting after german chancellor merkel after he "glimpsed her soul" and revealed that the first fuckwad fully expected to get lucky during his german visit. well the ugly happened and rory is frickin' here to tell you about it.

but first, letz visit the frickin' shoulder-rub issue. a number of bloggers have posted about bush's uncontrolled urge to touch angela acted out at G-8. out of context, it just looks like an asinine unwanted touching. well, it was an unwanted touching, well, okay, it's also asinine. but you gotta understand the context. rory's gonna give ya the context. but maybe you should watch the video of the shoulder rub first, so you understand. it'll put the context in frickin' context. so here's a link to bluegalinaredstate where you can watchit. then come back for the frickin' truth about the pathetic primate peace-making gestures of the most destructive naked ape on this spinnin' rock.

THE TRUE CONTEXT -- A RORYSHOCK EXCLUSIVE:

The most flatulent president in history arrived for his recent visit with Chancellor Angela Merkel in Germany full of hope and methane.

After a briefing on Israeli bombings, w bears down while hoping to take advantage of nearly ideal men's room acoustics while standing before a urinal in a Bavarian men's room:

recall from evidence revealed in rory's previous post on them, bush and merkel have been lusting madly after each other, their libidos engorged by the aphrodisiac of power and privilege.

Things were looking good. Angela was jolly and playful. She adored George's fratboy playfulness as the day unfolded. George goes oral on an invisible herring. what a fuckin' cutup. how could any woman resist?

Ah, yes, Angela anticipated a grand old time herself.

And she wasn't shy about letting georgie porgie know.

if ya frickin' know what i mean.

w had many chances to amuse angela. he has just told her, "we used to call this the "A-B" for "anal blowtorch" when I was at yale," as he prepares to 'light a fart' with a candle in a cathedral. Laura, however, has seen the stunt one too many times and takes advantage of her complete lack of honest affect to hide her deeply buried disgust.

earlier, as an esteemed historian gave tour of the cathedral, georgie porgie released his infamous "screaming mouse" fart and angela marveled at the aftermath.

later, after a quick mention of beer and brats, w took advantage of leather-chair acoustics.

porgie speechified, mainly thinking that he looked and sounded cool for angela. however, he had a bad few seconds as he froze, as shown in this photo. his SAPS (spontaneously acquired paralytic syndrome) kicked in due to his overstimulation and he froze like a robot losing power. some say a secret service man presses a button labeled "reset" to bring him back to life, raising a question of whether this a syndrome is a pathology or a malfunctioning electronic device issue. but fact is, a frickin' loud handclap brings him "back" on like a cheap lamp. angela knows this as rory noted in the previous bush/merkel post. you can see her preparing to "bring him back."

ah yes, as the day wore on they had fun and anticpation intensified.

if ya know what rory meanz

although porgie's fantasy depicted immediately above was not to be the scenario. ya see angela is into a whole dark germanic zombie-sex kinda scene, according the flyonthewall.

oh fly, oh beautiful intergalactic traveler for truth! where the frick would rory be without you?

check out this frickin' image telepathically transferred to rory's hard drive by fly. it shows angela putting the devil's cowl over georgie porgie just before love play is to begin in earnest. oh porgie! oh angela! if you had known there was a flyonthewall would you have even cared at that point?

ah, rory, don't get frickin' ahead of yourself. earlier in the day, instincts excited, angela and porgie hacked off chunks of pig flesh charred like the remains-of-lebanese-children-cooked-by-american-bombs-delivered-by-israelis. with reckless abandon and strong appetite the powerful pair hacked and chewed as admiring german men in green hats and others in lederhosen (not pictured) watched with fascination.

angela made playful comments about the president's piece of pork.

throughout the day, angela cared not what the wagging tongues said about her plans for fun with porgie.

nor did porgy give a rat's ass. why porgie cared what people thought about as much as he gives a shit about world opinion or the position of his citizens on iraq or lebanon. proud to display his piece of pork to angela, porgie was.

later, she complained that it didn't feel like much more than he had on his fork

like his brutality, porgie's ability to disappoint the leaders of the frickin' freeworld knows no bounds. you see, all of this happened before the frickin' should-rub incident. now angela's reaction makes a little more frickin' sense don't it? georgie porgie, frickin' puddin' and pie.

big frickin' surprise, huh? things turned out badly on porgie's watch AGAIN. no exit strategy? he fershure didn't plan that far. fucksakes the 'wad didn't even have a decent entry strategy. according to angel it's so fuckin' bad that:

rory turns art critic and discusses the important 20th century work known entitled "McNipple"

2006-07-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

why has this work been neglected by art critics? this is important art, nonverbally capturing important aspects of modern amerikan culture. mcnipple is a frickin' masterpiece.

first let me say that the rumor (started by rory himself) that first lady laura bush was as much a model for this piece as ronald mcdonald himself is no doubt false. but I can see why I started the rumor. if for no other reason, it's the frickin' hair. the kevlar-helmet, ronald-doo.

is not the first lady clown-like? her facial expressions are untrue, her affect seemingly disconnected from reality, facial response severed from stimuli. her visage is painted. her hair is ronaldesque. the clown mother. how frickin' frightening is that?

but the rumor is frickin' false. she did not sit for the artist with bared breasts with the lips of rove at her mime-skinned harlequin dug. no rory just thought mcnipple suggested such a reality.

ronald mcdonald as a woman? or a man? ronald androgynous? ronald asexual? recall that christian clown authorities contend that clowns are indeed asexual. ronald/mcdonald's as surrogate mother of a infant with an older face and hands? a mature baby dependent on garbage culture to stick the teat in its lips, helpless to do anything but suckle at the teat of the great ronald mcdonald?
the mature baby transgendered by hormonal influences of crappy hormone fed beef? does the boy baby have the suggestion of female genitalia in the diaper? is the north american male craze for depilation of the cranium and other areas just the result of marketing or is there an impulse to render the body neonatenous for some other latent reasons and is the baby jesus of this burgerland pieta legitimately interpreted as a comment on this phenomenon, regardless of the artist's intentions? who the frick knows?

rory could go on and on reflecting on this painting. ah, great art'll do that do you. frickin' A.

casey weldon created mcnipple

bush proposes brain rapist for court of appeals and vermont man makes stupidest statement of the week

2006-07-16T14:45:00.000-07:00

Enough animals of all species have been senselessly executed on the crucifix of human stupidity! We sure as shit don't need Bush's former DOD counsel William Haynes II in a position to enable more, which is where w wants to put him by nominating him for a federal appellate court position.

Stop Haynes. Haynes sucks. Haynes advocates secret detentions and torture. Haynes was the legal brains behind Abu Ghraib and Gitmo. Bush wants Haynes to be a Federal Appeals Judge.
But Haynes is not only a man responsible for torture and rape and illegal detention. To very frickin' loosely paraphrase Woody Guthrie, some men torture with whips, cattle prods, waterboards, or dogs, others with a fountain pen. This fountain pen wielding scumbag is also a brain rapist. He is willing to fuck logic in the ass to achieve tyranny and destruction in the name of the oil and profit gods worshipped by the present administration. oh yeah. fuck logic in the ass. fuck the world in the ass too. fuck nature in the ass. he certainly isn't averse to fucking birds in the ass, in a manner of speaking. well, the cloaca, to be anatomically correct. here's what rory means. the fuckwad is all about the senseless crucifixion of nonhuman animals.

According the Friends of the Earth the attempt at brain rape went somethin' like this:

'Seeking an exemption from the Migratory Bird Treaty Act in order to enable the military to resume bombing on a remote Pacific island as part of live-fire training exercises, Haynes prepared a legal brief arguing that even though the island is an important nesting site for such migratory birds as great frigate birds, red-footed boobies and Pacific golden plovers, bird lovers should have no problem with the bombing.

Indeed, argued the Haynes brief, conservationists would actually benefit from the destruction of such birds, because it makes the birds rarer - and "bird watchers get more enjoyment spotting a rare bird than they do spotting a common one." Moreover, Haynes noted, the bombing is good for the birds, too - because it keeps the island free of other "human intrusion."'

"bombing is good for them!" that seems to be a tenet of the bush administration. and the rarity argument? delusional. psychotic. let the fucking extirpation programs begin, because it will be so much more exciting to observe fewer and fewer specimens of more and more rare species! after all human entertainment is the only purpose of wildlife. Haynes, bush, cheney, rumbo: madmen, fuckwads, mad fuckwads. Here's one of those "take action" links to email opposition to this mad fuckwad rising to the bench of an important Federal Court where he would no doubt do his best to hand as much power to the torturers, profiteers, and earth rapists.

But here's another likely frickin' candidate for a position in the w administration who opened his ignurnt pie hole up in Vermont for a New York Times article. Another advocate of using explosives on natural beauty based upon a sick, twisted, pathologically humanocentric and moronic view of things. Dude named Wagg. Name means "a fanning motion by an appendage located just above the anus of canis familiaris." Seems that the Huntington River Gorge in Vermont, a place of beauty, has been the death of 20 people in the last 40 years. As in many river gorges, after the snow melt or heavy rains, the waters within the Huntington River Gorge get a little wild.

Humans can get swept over falls, held under, and drowned. The solution? Fuck education of people who occasionally insist on doing something really fucking dangerous and stupid like jumping into cold, raging waters. Nope. The best solution, according to Wagg, is to blow up the fucking Gorge. "Take it out." Retaliate mercilously. Defend human life. Blow the ever-lovin' crap outta that there Gorge just like Israel's blowin' the crap outta Lebanon. Damn Gorge is is a terrorist. Amurikin fuckin' solution: "Hmmmm. Problem? Hmmm. Blow it the fuck up. That's what yuh doo. Yep. Blow it up. Solve every damn problem. Why yuh could even nukeit, if need be." Here's how the July 16 New York Times article presented Wagg's position:

'Jeff Wagg of Richmond ... thinks that the gorge should be destroyed, or at least that some of the more dangerous parts should be blasted out, as they were in the 1970’s after a state police officer died there while trying to retrieve a body.

“My take on it is that what’s attractive about the place is its beauty. That’s also its problem,” Mr. Wagg said. “So I think it should be considered that if human life is the most important thing here, it’s worth considering taking out the beauty.”'

"Taking out the beauty." Does this guy already have a position in the Bush administration? If not, roryz sure they'll be callin' him, perhaps for a job in the Department of Interior. by the way Jeff, did you know that the Atlantic Ocean took scores of lives last year alone? Maybe we should take it out. drain that fucker. And that Everest. People regularly die there trying to climb it. it's the height that's attractive. maybe we should consider knocking 10,000 feet off the top. holy fucking shit. gotta spell it all the way out on this one. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! this dude fershure wins the dumbest fucking thing said this week award. and he ain't even a candidate for the learned position of bush-appointed federal judge. dang.

what is beauty? WARNING: THE BOTANICAL IMAGES PRESENTED HAVE BEEN DECLARED OBSCENE BY RELIGIOUS EXTREMISTS and MASTURBATION IS DISCUSSED!!!

2006-07-15T06:30:00.000-07:00

rory was at it again this week. looking for rattlers, that is! both those with a transmitter and those heretofore "undiscovered" by humanoid. found this one in the classic i'mawaitin'forarodent ambush position on a log. lookit the raindrops on his scales. been a wet humid, and hot, week, soakin' rory with sweat, makin' hiz pack stinky, his clothing feel as convenient as a jumpsuit made of warm wet wallpaper, and the damn chiggers consuming the flesh 'round his ankles even more irritating. but then, it's all worth it when you see a thing of beauty. and your sweat reminds you it's good to be alive. and to appreciate the simple things. like water.

I know. not everyone thinks rattlers in particular or snakes in general are things of beauty. for some the addition of legs to the critter makes all the difference. some who are repelled by snakes find lizards cute. while writing notes about a snake found near a proposed development area, rory saw this pretty adult five-lined skink darting about a nearby rock, seemingly foraging for insects or arachnids. see 'em frequently. hardly ever get a good shot at 'em with the camera. she's pretty rory thinkz:

maybe even more people like dragonflies. even people who hate insects generally. dragonfly jewelry. dragonfly prints. dragonflies in songs of ziggy marley. dragonflies are "pretty." I agree. just that I find alot of other insects beautiful, if not pretty, as well. but we'll get to that, kinda. so rory came upon this newly emerged dragonfly on a mossy trail. wings still wet and somewhat limp. helpless insect unable to escape rory's lens.

not to far from the dragonfly, rory came across this beetle. apparently a female stuffed with eggs to the point that her carapace looks like the shrunken vest of an obese biker, more bib than abdomen- or belly-cover. oh coleopterists out there: what species is this? my daughter advises it looks like a scarab ... of which there are thousands of species. scarabaeidae. dung eaters. coprophilous critters. oh female of distended abdomen walking the woodland floor, were you in search of "the right shit" when rory distracted you for a moment to record your image? a worthy quest as noble as any search for the holy grail.

is she not beautiful? roryz person on the street survey, however, had her physical beauty rated well below that of the dragonfly. should she consider cosmetic surgery? makeup? rory could have captured her and painted her with shiny metallic, colorful paints and photographed her. perhaps clothed her swollen abdomen with a lovely printed sarong. painted her mandibles ruby red. inserted some thorax implants? would she have been beautiful then? or is there more to beauty than the human-visual-culturally-constructed-vision-of-beauty-of-the-day? scarabs. dung collecters. holy rollers of the shitball. sacred to the egyptians. is this not beauty?

According the Corning Museum: "The scarab rolls dung into pills, buries them in the earth, and thereby provides nutrition for its larvae. The fact that something as inferior as dung gives life to this beautiful beetle made the scarab an ideal representation of Khepri, god of the rising sun, rebirth, and transformation. “Khepri” means both “scarab” and “he who becomes.”"

so the scarab beetle exhorts its young

better than the "EAT SHIT AND DIE!" motto of the bush administration. w the man who wanks while baghdad and beirut burn.

now a short digression on a side-loop trail that will return to the path of this post, kinda: you know the late pope actually believed that the reason his spine became parallel to the ground in his old age was that he had excessively pumped the pre-papal python as a youth? rory shitz you not. imagine a huge organization that has as one of its tenets a great deal of anti-masturbation rules, regulations, commentary, and scholarly works. laughable, yet scary. oh, yes, they take their bishop-bashing seriously. same organization along with others of its ilk is behind the anti-gay marriage constitutional amendment movement sweeping amerika. first of all why the fuck do people think this something for "legislative" action? second of all, why the fuck do people think this is something for a constitutional amendment? third of all why do people give a shit what other people do in the privacy of their bedrooms? ignurnce on so many frickin' levels. a constitution is an overarching, guidelining kinda document, ain't it? by frickin' definition. if every time some piece of legislation were declared unconstitutional, fuckwads in legislatures spent their time trying to come up with a specific amendment to overturn one ruling and enact one law, well, they wouldn't have time to entertain lobbyists or pass lameass idiotic jingoistic bush jerkin' resolutions in support of ill-fated ill-conceived wars ... uh, hmm ... okay ... so maybe we should encourage 'em to work on ridiculously specific constitutional amendments, like the anti-gay amendments, or the anti-flag burning amendments, or ... the anti-masturbation amendment. you know the one that reads just like the Vatican's law: "Sex is defined as the act of coitus between a man and a woman united in holy marriage for the sole purpose of producing more human offspring than the world can sustain. Masturbation has never been formally recognized as a legitimate form of sex under the judeo-christian traditon of America. Indeed masturbation has long been held to be harmful to the physical and moral being of humankind. Wherefore, any act of masturbation, or other manner of self-stimulation for purposes of sexual gratification, whether unilateral or mutual, is not constitutionally protected."

Oh, the Senators can get behind this one. Why, jerkin' the gherkin can be addicting, they might point out. "Let the heathens spill theirs on the dusty ground," we can almost hear them say. And to think that Father Hardon is a moderate on the subject of five-fingered solitaire, willing to at least mitigate culpability!

why the masturbation-cure industry could experience a renaissance! which reminds me of a page in an old book I found in a flea market in Kansas years ago. book is entitled "The People's Medical Advisor" and was published in 1918. worth at least a post in and of itself. even on the subject of weasel-workin' alone. gotta wonder since the catholic catechism is pretty much the same now as it was in 1918, how many people still believe this type of shit. you might have to click up the image to read that the nut on the right was "wasted by masturbation":

wait! what is it? poll results just in! 39% of the world's population believes that wanking can waste the balls! percentage higher among fundies of all stripes! rory's medical advisor states that twisted beliefs about self-play can result in excessive, uncontrollable nocturnal missile launches, suicide bombings, indifference to civilian deaths, and in extreme cases, rape of entire countries by overwhelming military force. (less has been written on the subject of the ill effects of female self-help it seems, again, the social and cultural ramifications of which are subject for a post itself, no doubt).

Oh, Dr. Jocelyn Elders, surgeon general under wild bill clinton, advocate of therapeutic self-stimulation, casualty of the amazingly powerful anti-selfpleasuring movement, would that your message had been spread rather than suppressed! Damnable casualty of wankgate! Oh, yes the anti-manual forces are powerful. powerful and dark. powerful, dark and ruthless. the surgeon general was purged from the clinton administration for the sin of open discussion of self-pleasuring and the denial that it is a sin or unhealthy or more dangerous than our constitutionally protected godgiven american right to bear arms and mindlessly blast the everlovin' crap out of beautiful creatures that do us no harm, such as coyotes, for frickin' example.

one can imagine the subsequent interviews of surgeons general. "Where do you stand on jacking off, self-diddling, solo dildo use, or lone rubbing? Will you sign this oath to never discuss, advocate, or suggest that masturbation does not cause grievous harm to the individual performing this pathological action? Do you agree with the teachings of Claude Lallemand, the 19th Century physician who maintained that autoerotic activity has these effects: "All sensations decrease, sight is endangered, and the mind is threatened, and the usual result is idiocy and death."

which brings me back to the other subject at hand. nature photos declared obscene, that is. well, here's the tie-in. A priest of germanic descent, I suppose, but a true american catholic, name of Irwin Spankmeister, rory shitz you not, whats-in-a-name-anyway, would lead wayward youths to his garden at the appropriate time of year, where a fungus would grow up. some call it dog penis or dog dick fungus. some say it's one of the stinkhorns, for it smells foul, attracting flies that spread its spores. oh, but father spankmeister used to call it by a variant of its more medieval name: "devil's dong." some say it's the devil's "doohickey." And he would tell lads that if they pleasured themselves the lord might render their thing like the devil's dong in color, size, overall appearance, smell, and attrativeness to flies. Oh what an educator of youth the priest was! well rory came across the infamous dog penis fungus during this week's woodland perambulations and got a couple of shots of it.

view from the right:

view from the left:

jesus christ on crutches spankmeister! it's just a fuckin' mushroom! it's not a visual aid in the war against wanking! and it's got a beautiful color. tweaks the mind when you come upon it in the woods. hey, flies like it. a thing of beauty in its own way even. rory also heard, from flyonthewall, that the secret service is still searching for a paranoid schizophrenic man who publicly put a curse on the firstfuckwad's dong shouting out his wishes that it turn into the infamous devil's doohickey! speakin' of which, whatever happened to that poor bastard who got arrested for wanting to lop the presidential marble bag? oh the world of nekked apes is indeed a funny one! and yet, given the news of the past year, none of this surprises rory in the least. and all of which confirms that the bush administration is a lot like the traditional catholic contentions regarding masturbation: the results are idiocy and death.

postscript:

For those who might not remember threat-on-the-presidential-marble-pouch-incident here's a link to roryz post on it. bush's scrotum declared safe from wishes of indicted mental patient; elderly woman praying for cheney's pecker to fall off to be indicted next rory plans to attempt to locate and interview the alleged perpetrator of this insidious plot. if anyone has his current address, please advise.

2006-07-12T17:33:00.000-07:00

Hey rory, what the fuck isit with you? some of your friends are startin' to think that you've been eaten. no not yet. sooner or later we all get eaten by somethin', I guess, even if it's just little bitty microbes, or the wind. but that ain't happened yet. little guy rory found on a milkweed leaf not too long ago can't say the same though:

rory figured it was time. the critters are even tellin' me to get back to it. roryz been workin' his arse off. trackin'. rattlers. but that season is gonna slow down now. and if trackin' for miles up and down in the heat with all the biters eating the flesh of rory weren't enough, rory moved. and when rory moves, rory moves a lot of shit. rory doesn't travel light. and rory does the labor himself for the most part. trackin' for 10 or 12 hours, enough to make you wanna lie down and not move. and then packin' and cleanin' and carryin' and organizin' and throwin' away and bein' shoved down remembrance alley goin' through shit and dragged into a doorway of memory here and there involuntarily and beaten about the head, kissed, made sad, made happy, and made aware of the passage of time and things rory didn't even remember he did, knew, or knew of. good thing to do once in awhile, methinks. a month of solid no rest movin' and trackin'. off line for a bit. so cool to be back now and anticipating communication with bloggers. like a return from a sea voyage without comms. but enough. don't let the hiatus become heinous. come on back. return them calls. come on rory. don't be missin' all that news out there either. holy frickin' shit, you missed the story of bush visitin' a shoe factory while baghdad burns:

Stupid motherfucker indeed.

dude won the bet

on the same date -- July 11 -- that the first fuckwad modeled the clown shoes at a factory in Wisconsin his actions resulted some more death in Iraq:

BAGHDAD - Two suicide bombers and a roadside bomb killed 15 people outside Baghdad's fortified Green Zone government compound on Tuesday, the U.S. military said. The al-Qaeda-led Mujahideen Shura Council in Iraq said it was behind the two suicide attacks, according to an Internet posting.
BAGHDAD - Gunmen killed eight employees of an Iraqi contracting company and wounded three after bursting into their offices in Baghdad's western Mansur district.
BAQUBA - Gunmen killed 19 people in different incidents in the religiously mixed city of Baquba, 65 km (40 miles) north of Baghdad, police said.
BAGHDAD - Gunmen opened fire at a minibus, killing 10 people and wounding one in the southern Sunni district of Baghdad, an Interior Ministry source said.

all on the day he modeled the clown shoes and kissed his own ass about how great the U.S. economy is doin' ... guess not much has changed in the month or so roryz been offline

neverthefrickinless it's good to be back

living clock of nature -- rory came across two fawns this past week

2006-06-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

someone rory spoke to wanted to "rescue" one of the fawns. hfs. don't just do something, stand there. so often humans want to do something when doing nothing would be more beneficial. how many acts cause unintended harm? it takes more than good intentions. a little learning may be a dangerous thing. but a complete lack of learning is even more frickin' dangerous. not that rory ain't ignorant of mucho too. rory, what the fuck are you talking about? this: Does have to leave their fawns stashed while they forage when the fawns are too new to keep up. the doe comes back to nurse the fawn and care for it. the fawn is relatively scentless at that age and by remaining still reduces its chance of predation. in some instances, its spots help to camouflage it on the sun-dappled forest floor. this subject reminds rory of the old myth of "don't handle the baby bird ... don't touch it ... because the mother will abandon it." according to roryz experience and the cornell laboratory of ornithology, that's a bunch o' hooey. i recall last spring, a fledgling starling had the misfortune to flutter down into my backyard. one of my pooches wanted to get to the bird, which was fluttering clumsily about in some ivy, which was confusing the dog and keeping him from getting the bird immediately. however, the bird was unable to escape. a parental starling was watching and calling from a nearby gutter. rory picked the young bird out of the ivy and set it atop a fence post to save it from unnatural selection by my beloved canis familiaris. off the goofy young bird went to the safe side of the fence. the parent descended. no problemo. still, i have heard and read that it is bad to put your scent on and around a nest because it cues predators to investigate, leading them to the nest.

when you think about the traditional tale of don't touch the fledgling, it doesn't really make sense. first, most birds have virtually no sense of smell. roryz beloved turkey vulture being an exception, of course. so, putting your scent on say a fledgling starling don't mean jack diddly to another starling. the aftermath of your touch is pretty frickin' much "invisible" to the bird. second, what kind of evolutionary sense would that make. animals are disturbed and have close encounters often out there ... if every bird that had some near miss with a predator were then abandoned by its mother wtf sense would that make.

no the fawns don't need rescue. rescue would do them more harm than good. maybe like the children of iraq.

memorial day desecrated by W, aka "shitball"

2006-05-29T07:21:00.000-07:00

supposed to hit the 90's today on parts of the east coast. gas prices are high. w is concerned. his solution: drill more wells. burn more fuel. pay lip service to "alternative energy" so bux can go into the pockets of r & d asshole buddies of his. drill in the wildlife refuges. keep on drivin'. produce more. don't conserve. wage a war for oil that drives prices high while calling for more consumption in a nation trapped in an internal combustion cage. 90's on the east coast. a little tongue flick from the flames of hell-to-come fanned by armaggeddon man, aka w, aka killer klown, aka shitball. shitball will lay a wreath at the graves of dead soldiers and call for more soldiers to die. he is expected to call for more "sacrifices." while he makes none. never has, never will. sacrifices. sacrifices to the god of oil, of consumption, of profit. burnt and blasted offerings to his silver-lined way of life. so that he and his may never have to sacrifice a fucking thing. today w will desecrate graves by his mere presence. he will not honor the war dead. if he would honor them, he would stay the fuck away from the so-called hallowed grounds. he would not call for more to die in vain. his presence will piss on the memory of those he has killed. killed with his own hand. holding his fountain pen filled with blood. signing death warrants.

so many have been sacrificed by bush. in the name of democracy. rory lays a tear at the grave of all who have died. all those burned, blown apart, blasted by shitball the madman. a tear for the soldier. a tear on the grave of the unknown child. a tear on the graves being dug by shitball's shovelmen of death as these words are typed. memorial day. the world will never forget the scourge of this shitball. the scars will be there for the finger of memory to read -- the Braille of sorrow -- until all humanity has died.

what if spanky turned out to be innocent? And some further questions about the 5' 1" alleged sex offender furor

2006-05-28T15:59:00.000-07:00

okay. first time rory saw this pick, he immediately thought ronald had done something "bad." why else would the cops be takin' him away like this:

from that day on, perhaps unconsciously, rory thought of ronald mcdonald as a criminal. but rory never learned the full story. were the officers merely helping a drunken clown out of the park? was ronald falsely accused of something? was he ultimately cleared? i dunno. but this picture lives on. it's still on the 'net. a reminder among other things of why allowing photos of the "perp walk" can prejudice a person's ability to get a semblance of a fair shake in the amerikan justice system. no follwup out there. the arrest and carting off of ronald was the story. the moment. the visual byte. the seller. minds moved on for the next stim. and ronald's rep was forever in the shitcan at least with those who saw this image.

so today rory wonderz about spanky the clown as well.

spanky was a bigtime bigtop clown. worked for ringling. spanky got busted for kiddie porn. shocking, huh? spanky was pretty much presumed guilty. you can surf the web and find many accounts of his arrest. but it ain't so easy to find out what happened later. in fact, rory searched for awhile, but roryz attention span became an issue and he dropped the investigation of "whatever happened to spanky?" maybe someday. not motivated enough today. fuckit. clowning is enough of a crime. no tears for the clown. so, the idea is implanted in roryz head that spanky lives up to his name when he sees naked kids. fuckit, unless there's a major spanky exoneration story, many of us will always define spanky by the moment of his arrest and his lasting internet fame. spanky's moment. spanky's frickin' "immortality."

do people get locked up for sex crimes they didn't commit. they sure as shit do. easy to forget that fact. for all of us. good fact to remember, even if it's unpleasant and makes things complicated. screws up the urge for black and white. good versus evil. good is frickin' evil when it punishes the innocent. and the story in the link is a frickin' happy ending story. release after 6.5 years in the joint. 6.5 years in the reviled status of rapist. always the chance of a shank. a beating. being locked down in a small ill ventilated metal and stone box in the heat of the summer knowing it's for life 'cause nobody will listen to the con who says "I'm innocent." but the dude discussed in the link had some dna evidence to save him. but for that he'd still be in the joint. doomed to die in the joint. simple as frickin' that.

can happen to anybody.

in a former life rory spent many hours behind bars with all sorts of merely accused and all kinds of guilty naked apes of the indigent sort. when you represent the indigent you don't pick 'n' choose your cases. met plenty of innocent people whose lives were fucked over by the system. more than most would want to believe. met plenty of guilty ones. came to really hate dealing with guilty child molesters. a little epiphany came one day when a tiny man, probably about 5' tall, with a turkey-neck, was bitching to me about being convicted of "aggravated" sodomy with a little girl. he had one of those names could be either gender, like Lynn. he didn't understand that the term "aggravated" was due to her tender age. he spoke of how she was seductive and a willing participant. i wanted to puke. i could literally feel puke rising in my throat. i pretty much wanted to puke on him. then i stopped hearing what he was saying. he was totally demented with thoughts fractured in a brain turned to crystals reflecting damaged thoughts around like funhouse mirrors distorting reality. talking about how he taught the child about "man's milk." i stopped hearing him. i wanted to jump across the table and break his neck and beat him. rip his jugular out with my teeth. obviously i didn't. i would've been put in jail for that. and would've sickened myself. but i felt like it. but i knew that was wrong. that guy was clearly guilty by his own admission and other overwhelming evidence ('cause I gotta point out in passing that there are plenty who "confess" even when it ain't true). but it still would've been wrong. would've solved nothing. who would i have been? just because i knew he was guilty would that have been justification? rory the one man lynch mob. nope. that wasn't gonna happen. but we all have a lynch mob hiding somewhere in our heads with the potential to pick up the torches and ropes and surround our reason, 'specially when it comes to child molesters, rapists, killers of children. but we must never go there. once we go there. then there is no hope of justice. the innocent will hang along with the guilty and we will perpetuate brutality. don't get me wrong. one dead human don't mean shit in the grand cosmic scheme of things. death ain't much, really. but we gotta try to live as well as possible in the meantime. vengeance avoids the real issues. the underlying issues. the story and the emphasis is always on punishment. much more so than on helping those hurt. and when we become all about anger and vengeance we help perpetuate forgetfulness about the real issues. and that's bullshit. now I'm frickin' ramblin' and that means it's almost time to stop. but I got just a coupla questions.

why is there a clamor to put this guy in conditions worse than guantanamo even as we condemn guantanamo?
granted he looks like a kiddie diddler. [rory doesn't know the actual conditions of the joint the judge had to consider or know whether the judge's concerns were legit, but rory refers to commentary and outrage all over seeming to say the little guy should be thrown in the joint, butt fucked, beaten, tortured and killed]. For those who have missed it, this is the guy who got probation and is 5' 1" tall. All over the 'net it's being put out that the judge put him on probation for some sexual contact with 12 year old instead of locking him up because he is short and would be unsafe. Here's one of them "fair and balanced" accounts. rory wasn't there. not sure if that was the full rationale. maybe it was. maybe it is wrong. maybe there's a right to appeal a sentence in Nebraska. I dunno. but I don't think we should beat the shit out of the little guy. or castrate him. or such like ideas that are sweeping the 'net as the electronic lynch mob lights up its torches. coupla examples: bad things happening in prison or vigilante justice and shooting in the back of the head chinese style

oh yes. rory knowz. he's a child molester, he don't deserve no better. but all the people in abu ghraib and guantanomo are terrorists, right? wake the frick up amerika and look in the frickin' mirror. you think the brutal prison conditions that've gotten so much publicity are an aberration? an accident? plenty of amerikans seem to want prisons like that. some of 'em even got to act out their desires in the military. yep plenty want such prisons until there's a chance they might wind up there themselves. like the short dude in question. should the dog handlers of abu gharib have dogs biting their naked shit- smeared balls in the brig? or should we try to stop the cycle, even if it is ultimately an exercise in futility in this land of the most violent naked apes walking the planet.

what if the short dude were innocent? I for one sure as shit will never trust the press to accurately determine guilt or innocence? if we can't keep the truly guilty safe in prison, how will we keep the innocent safe? how will we keep the 5'1" 17 year old who was convicted of theft safe? who in the system of justice do you trust enough to have the power of life and death and always get it right? maybe alberto gonzales? fuck no. lock 'em up if they're guilty of dangerous crime as best as can be told. but there's an obligation to have a safe and humane place to keep them. and by the way, "them," could be any one of us on a given day, falsely identified, or falsely accused for some other reason. there are plenty of joes out there and will be more (see they sure as shit do link above for an example if you haven't already).

nekked apes sure are a troubled species.

meanwhile, rory wonderz what the fuck happened to spanky.

irrepressible

2006-05-28T08:57:00.000-07:00

roryshockz joining the irrepressible campaign. the dynamic button added to roryz sidebar shows fragments of censored content and gets you to the campaign page where you can "take action." you can grab the code for the dynamic button there, too. format looks good on my machine. pls lemme know if its effed up atall on yours. rory signed this pledge, as well:

"I believe the Internet should be a force for political freedom, not repression. People have the right to seek and receive information and to express their peaceful beliefs online without fear or interference. I call on governments to stop the unwarranted restriction of freedom of expression on the Internet -- and on companies to stop helping them do it."

its worth exploring around amnesty's materials after you get to where you need to go to sign the pledge by clicking the button. there's info 'bout a variety of things including Shi Tao, whom yahoo sold out. the dude's doin' 10 years for sending out info about instructions from the chinese government directing news outlets to shitcan coverage of tiananmen square anniversary demos. he's doin' forced labor and his wife is being harrassed, interrogated, and pressured to divorce him. shit like that. kinda stuff bushencheney and gonzo would like make more widespread SOP in the halls of Amerikan justice.

rory rambles, spins himself, pins the tail on the inner donkey, and brings you another installment of coulrophobia desensitization training

2006-05-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the past foretells the future. Some time ago a presumed member of the sub-species homo redneckus delivered this car to this woodland road that rory rambled on yesterday between forays into swamp, up slippery rocks, and through briar and blueberry, while tracking wildlife to put a tiny jingle in his purse and serve mistress science. In the past this automobile burned fossil fuels and contributed to the invasion and scarring of nature. Then it died. It don't work no more. Nature is reclaiming it. Every day some more molecules leave it. rust forms. taking it back into the elemental form from whence it came. iron was mined in revolutionary times and many years after not far from where this steel hulk lies. sorta like it came home to die. one day, no car will run on this planet. perhaps the past foretells the future.

now that roryz said somethin' 'bout his "purse" in the above passage he realizes that the conditioned minds of modern amerikan folk will wonder, is rory gay? this puts rory in the position of wanting to say fuck yes, I'm gay, because I think gay is okay. if I were gay that'd be fine with me. however, I'm not. now that roryz said that, he thinks to himself, why do you even bother saying that? I am gay. I am not gay. If I were a clown, I could get out of this whole mess as pointed out in my first clown post, because according to Christian Clowning authorites, clowns are "asexual." see for example:

of course if I were a clown, I would shoot myself. point is, if any, why the fuck does anybody care who is gay and what the fuck is wrong with a man carrying a purse? rory has carried a shoulder bag of an outdoorsy type at times and occasionally had a comment that nobody is going to say anything about a guy like rory carrying a purse. well, that ain't true cause saying nobody is gonna say anything is frickin' sayin' something. so one thing rory has to say today is: Gay is okay. another thing: perhaps the past foretells the future.

so during the rambles yesterday, rory sees this beautiful sight. oh what a lucky man i was.

she was so polite. it is a she. a gravid she. she said in her musical, lovely, way, with the tail-tip maraca. "scuse me sir. you scare me. i don't know you. would you please step away a little?" how polite these creatures are. how well mannered. no unnecessary unprovoked attacks disproportionate to the circumstances. no energy wasted. just a clear statement. "please step away. if you try to hurt me, i will try to hurt you, so that you won't hurt me." pretty frickin' reasonable. not very scary really, when you think about it. and how pretty she is even now as her hide grows dull as the time for shedding and re-brightening approaches. reminds me of a conversation rory had with a trucker, who, seeing rory carrying some telltale gear towards the hills above a truck lot, said, "lookin' for snakes?"

rory replied, "yep."
trucker asked, "what kind?"
rory replied, "rattlesnakes."
trucker looked rory over.
rory looked trucker over. trucker was about 6' 2", 'bout 5 inches shorter than rory. trucker weighed 'bout 400 lbs. conservative estimate. shit you not. trucker had an irregular stubble. like he'd shaved parts of his face 'bout two days ago and other parts 'bout a week ago. not in the conventional pattern of any beard, goat, stache, or burns, however. trucker's T-shirt had two arrows on it. one pointing up. one pointing down. between the arrows two lines of words. the top line: "the man." the bottom line: "the legend." it was a "white" shirt with black writing though. not like the example here.

t shirt had what appeard to be coffee, barbecue sauce, and chocolate stains on it. trucker's belly was hanging out below the bottom of the t shirt 'bout 7 or 8 inches. belly was hanging over his belt buckle obscuring it. truckers 5 to 7 remaining teeth were the color toilet bowl porcelain gets to be when the bowl has been filled to the brim with urine and excrement and then left to dessicate in an abandoned service station restroom during an august heat wave. the arrow leading down from the text stating "the legend" pointed directly at his toad-belly-white-buckle-obscurin' -flab-flap. kinda ruined the impact, I would think. wearing a cap. greasy cap. said "hostess cakes" on it.
trucker says to rory, "snakes is disgustin'. I hate snakes. oughtta kill 'em all."
rory says, "see ya." heads up into the hills to work.

meanwhile dead cars rust. people wanna kill snakes that did them no harm. and clowns make balloon animals. what a frickin' world 'tis. judging from the comments made by some of the few readers of this scream into the vast darkness of the internet known as roryshock, roryz loyal binary code buddies are disproportionately coulrophobic. rory hopes you availed yourself of the link to help. please. seek professional help. although what follows may help to desensitize you to clowns so that someday your seeing of even the most hideous shrine or rotary-sponsored clown making the most obscene balloon animals will be as easy as shooting defenseless families in haditha is for marines. desensitization. that's what we're goin' for here. now take a deep breath. and tell yourself. it's only a clown. it's only a balloon. it's only a clown with a balloon. he can't harm you. you are safe.

okay. now breathe. rory knows that was very scary. good job. breathe. in and out. in and out. okay. now look at the next clown image. breathe. that's it. not so scary is it?

[sound of rory screaming in terror!!!!!!!]

whew. guess that desensitization didn't work. wait. it's a news flash. comin' in from kansas senator sam brownback. an anti-internet porn crusader of the first order.

balloon animals. they're disgustin'. oughta kill 'em all.

Call for repression of internet depictions of "balloon animals" bearing no resemblance to any known species baffled rory at first

2006-05-24T17:41:00.000-07:00

what the fuck is this guy's problem? rory wondered. so rory decided to check into the issue. hfs, roryz not entirely sure he agrees with the calls for censorship, but at least he knows what the fuckwad in the preceding picture is talking about. some of the results of roryz investigation of internet depictions of what appear to be obscene "balloon animals" follow.

please be advised that coulrophobics should depart this post immediately. roryz pretty sure he frickin' traumatized himself by viewing some of what is to follow. for the strong of stomach, here goes:

Some sort of inappropriate klown kama sutra demonstration? Is the clown about to "hurt" the trouser snake?

Species depicted by this "balloon animal?" White wonder worm? roryz already having bad dreams 'bout this one and he ain't even asleep.

Klown might claim it's a "buccaneer's sword;" however, it bears a striking resemblance to the "black mamba."

Where the fuck is the clown's other hand? Why is he thrusting the red latex dolphin at the viewer? And what the fuck do the rest of the balloons here represent? rory feelz a little queezy lookin' at this.

balloon animals suggestive of acts of copulation are to be outlawed under the proposed legislation:

the next picture is not for the frickin' faint of heart. although roryz a first amendment freak, he has to question whether this goes too far. this one will haunt rory for the rest of his days, rory fearz. should this even be allowed?

maybe this'll help me decide whether to support a complete ban on obscene "balloon animal" depictions on the internet. If you would be so kind, and if you frickin' feel like it, please respond to the rory poll question. Do you find the following image more, less or equally disturbing than the preceding image?

let rory close with a public service announcement. there is help out there for coulrophobics.

disclaimer to any klownz offended: the above is frickin' satire, or somethin' like that. and in roryz OPINION the "balloon animals" in question appear to be obscene.

rory callz for MILLION MOON mass ass baring at spy satellites on june 11th -- spread the frickin' word

2006-05-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

howdy friends, immigrants and countrypeople. we all know that bigbro-und-co are trackin' our phone calls. rory, like so many others, has long suspected the fuckwads of watching us from above. figured there's probably some nsa hack sitting in a dark room zoomin' the old satellite in on nude sunbathers and wankin' somewhere in the "control room" in a hollowed out guvmint mountain. turns out there's a whole frickin' agency unto itself. They can look down on your backyard barbie and tell ya what's for dinner. google earth ain't nothin' compared to what these 'wads scope out on a regular basis. one of the most tightly guarded guvmint secrets is the level of resolution available to unkle scam.

who is doin' this shit? It ain't the nsa. not the cia. not the dod. its the nga. that doesn't stand for nitwits golf association. stands for geospatial intelligence agency. at their claptrap ridden site spattered with corporatese nonsense about their "committment" to such things as "excellence" you will learn that they are "committed to Customers both as a National Intelligence and a Combat Support Agency." "Customers?" What the fuck is that about? They spy for the NSA. They spy for the CIA. They provide military intelligence. They are a governmental agency themselves. the fuckin' nsa is their "customer." have they "privatized" themselves? probably so, 'cause they sure as shit sound like a buncha wankers. well, in any frickin' event, you can also read a little 'bout 'em here. Sure, they say they don't spy on individuals. they say don't lookat the little picture. trust us they say. fuck that. roryz rule of thumb with the current guvmint on issues of domestic spying: 1. don't frickin' believe them. 2. whatever they deny doin' they are frickin' doin' with a vengeance. rory became even more convinced that the average shmo is getting scoped when he checked the nga children's section. and found this high dollar guvmint cartoon which is apparently integral to our national defense:

as soon as they start talkin' 'bout keepin' us "safe" and couple that with innocent cartoon characters with big old ass surveilling eyeballs these days, you can be sure they are spyin' on us. yep. thatsa frickin' fact.

Digression: Here at rory shock we're "committed to [frickin'] excellence" as well. committed to excellence. committed to excellence. now tell me that frickin' phrase isn't long since deceased and utterly meaningless. I don't frickin' wanna hear that phrase again until there is a secure mental health facility named "excellence." nuff said 'bout that shit.

back to the point here. rory is calling for a million moon mASS action to protest global surveillance. show the privacy invadin' fuckwads what we think of 'em. mooning has a long and fine tradition as a way of showing defiance, disrespect, and a sense of humor in the face, literally sometimes, of frickin' adversity, absurdity, and assininnity. So let us light up the earth with mirth and buttocks. the next full moon is June 11, @ 1803 Universal Time, according to the u.s. naval gaze-uh-tory. rory calls on naked apes everywhere to moon the sky on june 11. concerted local action is encouraged.

think onnit frendz. if just 1,000,000 asses are bared skyward, we are talking about maybe 200 square miles of ass flesh shining up at the satellites. if your stern is white and bright let it shine the light at night. if it's dark and smooth maybe daytime's right to reveal the groove. it don't matter. be creative. write a message across your ass. shine an ever-lovin' light on your ass. glue sequins on your keester. make a huge illuminated ass effigy. glow in the dark paint yore frickin' caboose. or stick with simply tush. but whatever ya do, let's moon the mofos!!!! june 11. million moon mass ass action. come awn. make it a frickin' moonathon.

a surprising number of citizens are willing to accept the glib lies of the W organization like well-lubricated assholes

2006-05-12T12:03:00.000-07:00

According to info in the New York Times today, 5-12-06, the NSA may have been compiling a huge database in an effort to compile a "log of every call ever made" in the u.s. should we worry? rory frickin' thinkz so. these bastards are violating the sacred law of the land: the frickin' bill of rights. last time I checked that was still frickin' the law. but generalissimo-of-spying hayden 'bout to move from the NSA to the CIA says "Everything that NSA does is lawful and very carefully done." wow, the NSA never ever breaks one frickin' law. I did not know that. until hayden told me. should I believe this bald baby-faced word sphincter?

rory agreez. and hayden is a lying shitbag.

and by the frickin' way, generalissimo-of-spying hayden, like most of the lies of the W organization, your lies are frickin' limp. you can barely stuff em into cranial orifi stretched by progaganda. rory thinks he might have to revise the graphic.

I don't know, when the lies are so limp and lame is impossibility a defense to the crime of attempted brain rape?

meanwhile, in the context of new nsa revelations and hayden's appointment, today, a publication known as the Boston Globe reports that "most put security ahead of privacy." and they quote a fuckwadian statement about warrantless guvment privacy invasions that rory is totally frickin' sick of hearing moronically mouthed by people who claim to love freedom so much they don't really want it anymore: 'I have nothing to hide, so I don't have a problem with it. If it's for the security of the country, it's OK with me."

to all who say this shit, rory asks, if you ain't got nothin' to hide, then why the fuck do you wear clothes in the summertime?

and cut out the "its all different since 9/11" cloacal spatter, okay? not everything is different. the twin towers falling did not automatically repeal the constitution. the sun still appears to set in the west. w is still the worst president in history. and guess what, fuckwads who repeat this mantra in the name of shitcanning freedom? giving up your civil liberties does not in fact reduce your statistical chances of getting wasted by a terrorist in the u.s., which by the way are still pretty fucking close to zero. more people died from bad food last year than from terror attacks. actually, more people died from something that has reached epidemic proportions in the u.s. after 9/11 than from terror. know what that frickin' disease is? well rory duz: it's frickin' stupidity. tens of thousands died last year in the u.s. from stupidity of all frickin sorts. now, if the guvment told me they'd abolish stupidity in exchange for me givin' up freedom and a right to some privacy, I'd hafta think on that one.

but these fuckwads who say they favor security over the constitutionally protected right of privacy and that 9/11 scared them so much they no longer believe in the constitution ... 'cause that's what they're really sayin ... rory says you are frickin' cowards. and rory sez anyone who disagrees with that is a frickin' traitor. you're either for the constitution or against it. this is how pathetic you are:

and if you've got nothin' to hide fuckwads, why do you draw your curtains? why do you seal your envelopes? your nothin' to hide talk is cheap. like the statement "freedom isn't free." now there's another one. freedumb without the "free" is just "dumb." freedom may have a cost heavy in blood, sweat and tears, but don't tell us it isn't "free," fuckwads, cause a lot of people are apparently taking that statement a little too frickin' literally.

Finally, this is probably really shitty blogform, but roryz gonna just paste an earlier post right in here, cause it deals with the same shit and I feel like lookin' at it again myself. the news is kinda repeatin' itself, so wtf, rory'll repeatemself too:

✓ 38.2% Surveyed would gladly submit to Rectal searches if President Bush said it would make them safer.

Graphic submitted to Bush administration by private Homeland Security Consultant Reckton Group, Ltd.:

Heard on the Street recently:

Homie Security Cop: Excuse me sir, would you mind if I look in your rectum?
Joe Citizen: Yes Actually I would!
Homie Security Cop: Well, if you have nothing to hide, why would you refuse permission? We are fighting a different kind of enemy and I'm just trying to keep everyone safe and free. You don't object to that do you?
Joe Citizen: Well, since you put it that way, I guess you better have a look.

Tell me it isn't so!

38.2% of American Fast Food Customers would willingly submit to a cavity search if President Bush said it would make them safer from terrorism. A www.roryshock.com person on the street survey revealed this startling statistic recently. 16.8% surveyed had no knowledge or opinion on what a cavity search is, in most instances simply asking "What?" in response to questions. 7% of survey participants made comments related to dental examinations. Secret NSA Director Rear Admiral Charles "Chilito" Numnutz is reported by one of Flyonthewall's operatives to have said, "These numbers are a little disturbing. Apparently people aren't scared enough yet. We need to get a solid majority ready to bend over and spread 'em in the name of freedom." Numnutz did, however, recommend rejection of the above freedom-anus poster design.

The above appeared on www.roryshock.com. A couple weeks later the news broke on CBS and other Crass Media outlets that about half of the American people approve of the President's domestic spying program after listening to his unconvincing blather and propaganda campaign. The good thing is that about half of the people know that he is full of shit, that domestic spying is not making anyone safer, and that W should not determine the meaning of the Constitution, according to what is convenient for him. Nevertheless the number of fascists in government who argue that is precisely what he should be allowed has grown recently.

Media Matters Site has info about these polls and the Crass Media

bush admits to lusting after german chancellor merkel after he "glimpsed her soul"

2006-05-08T19:54:00.000-07:00

at first rory was revolted by w's comment that he had a glimpse into the soul of German Chancellor Merkel. then rory starts lookin' into the situation. then rory got really revolted. w and the chancellor are hot for each other. first it was just w lusting after her in his heart. unrequited love at first. but that has changed.

he resorted to his tried and true frat boy humor. liftin the cheek and lettin' go during the solemn proceedings at the american jewish committee meeting (clickitup):

His butt diabolically blossomed with the heat of an afterburner, the sound of ripping canvas, and the stench of exploding roadkill. Chancellor Merkel fights back the vomitus.

delusional fuckwad that he is, w thinks he has scored points with the Chancellor:

but he's wrong. as he usually is.

good god. he thinks to himself, "I see her soul, and I want to fuck her. george w. bush preznit of the u.s. wants to fuck the chancellor of germany."

"oh yes. I see your soul." w has forgotten all about Laura. all about scripture. all about the admonitions against lusting in his little black heart. all about the fundy teachings that thinkin' 'bout it is as much of a sin as doin' it.

he wants her so.

he has a daydream much like the german satirical caricature that he enjoys looking at:

the daydream is so intense in his unbalanced white matter dominated brain that he becomes stuck in this position, like a robot losing power, the result of his rare neurological disorder. have you frickin' noticed his robotic carriage? this was the first time he locked up in public, though. chancellor merkel thought it was kinda cute, his sudden vulnerability. merkel claps her hands to try to snap him out of it.

he doesn't quite snap out of it. he just freezes for a moment in another position. he thinkz, "little georgie, are you there? will you wake finally? little georgie?" as he gazes at his fly.

he remembers better days, when little georgie was more responsive:

meanwhile, back in germany, effigy makers show merkel climbing up bush's ass. now that's effigy making. now that's political commentary:

she doesn't care for it at all.

well then imagine what she thinks of this effigy of her half up the ass of w as uncle sam while waving american flags:

now that's an effin' effigy.

the latest news is that chancellor merkel has invited w to her childhood home in germany. w has accepted. thinkin' he might get lucky. oh he probably will. but the chancellor has her own ideas. oh, yeah, she wants george now, too. but in her own way.

Spring has rory workin' hard, marveling at nature, and for a variety of reasons playin' a little hookey from bloggin'

2006-05-06T19:19:00.000-07:00

Hey rory, where 'n' the hell have you been. Well, here's one place. At work:

HFS rory, in the meantime, the wild columbine has frickin' bloomed in the hills:

rory luvz the way a little plant can take hold in a tablespoonful of dirt on a rock (rory remindz you to click these pix up for enjoyment):

I wish I could say I got lost in here for a week:

but I didn't.

I did pause to visit with this guy for a minute or two. Leaving aside the cultural fear and loathing for a moment, isn't he a lovely painting (you gotta click this one up):

and to frickin' think in the meantime, rory missed w's national day of prayer. May 4th was the first fuckwad's day of prayer. rory was wonderin' what the fuck w and his cronies would pray for. it should be forgiveness for being tools of mass destruction. but that sure as shit wasn't gonna happen. so rory checkz the white house site and sees that w said this among other things:

"In the stillness and peace of prayer we surrender our will to God's will, and we learn to serve His eternal purposes. By opening ourselves to God's priorities, our hearts are stirred and we are inspired to action -- to feed the hungry, to reach out to the poor, to bring aid to a widow or to an orphan or to the less fortunate."

the frickin' rhetorical cesspool overfloweth. what a bunch of pious bullcrap unsubstantiated by action. rory can't believe this shit. so rory checkz in with flyonthewall and finds out that w's little prayer meeting was defined by a quiet yet audible fart the boys back at Delta house called the "poison dart" that escaped with near lethal effect from w's intestinal blowgun (click up to size):

But then rory looked more frickin' carefully at what w said. see, he said "a" widow "OR" "an" orphan. That's an either or thing and in the singular. gonna help maybe one widow, or, if not the one widow, then maybe one orphan. And the frickin' poor, well, he didn't say he was gonna do anything but "reach out" to them. Reaching out doesn't do jack shit and takes no effort, just an extension of the arm. Feeding the hungry. Shit, he does that every day when he stuffs food into the first piehole. course he did say he might reach out to the "less fortunate" which in his world would be covered by tax breaks to those only clearing half a million per year. so, it turns out that rory was wrong for thinkin' w was lyin' out his ass when he gave his prayer speech. just had to look a little closer at the floating rhetorical turds to see 'em for what they were.

while senators called for abolition of fema and creation of a bureaucracy with a different name there has been an agency coup: FEMA has been abolished

2006-04-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

Just as he was away reading a story to chldren in a school on 9/11, the president was conveniently out of town. This time he was in New Orleans for a ludicrous photo opportunity in which he insulted the intelligence of nearly 3 quarters of North America by pretending to assist in the building of a house:

We all know that FEMA has pissed off many powerful people. No not him:

one of the real powers behind the coup and a possible explanation for why he was pissed off:

while the nation was listening to the sideshow from the senate about abolition of fema, there was an agency coup, perhaps the first complete violent overthrow of just one US government bureaucracy in history. nevertherless, this was not the first coup within the US government during the w years. as we know various parts of the judicial system have been abolished, such as those requiring hearings, notice, warrants, etc., in many cases. abolishing fema without waiting for congress is no frickin' biggie. fema will be operated by a consortium of private contractors led by Jerkwater Security Associates, a leading mercenary corporation, and a disney subsidiary. FEMA employees were completely taken by surprise. Many thought they were being paid a visit of appreciation at first. But this was to be no lameass morale booster this time.

The gas mask designed by Walt Disney has been adopted as the official gas mask of the new agency, Homeland Executive Response and Preparedness Emergency Services (HERPES).

this has been a test of the emergency broadcasting system. had this been a real agency coup, well, that would've been frickin' amazing.

Department of Defense Announces Sale of Advertising Space on Munitions to Help Defray War Costs

2006-04-24T16:51:00.000-07:00

From the Christian Science Monitor:
During the Afghan campaign, sailors on the USS Enterprise wrote a homophobic message on a bomb destined for Afghanistan, leading to complaints from gay rights groups. Rear Adm. Stephen Pietropaoli warned his men to more closely edit such "spontaneous acts of penmanship," and suggested that the Navy should "keep the messages positive."

But ... someone in the US Air Force ... caused offense by writing a vulgar slur about the French on a bomb (aimed at Iraq, that is, not France). Senior American officers said the anti-French message "crossed the line" of acceptability ...

gotta keep the frickin' messages on bombs positive. this is indeed some psychotic shit goin' on.

clickitup pleaz:

or maybe:

Think the frickin' McFalafel is far-fetched? well, as those who read the post before last know, w touted the McCurry as a sign of international progress and partnership with india. the McCurry is all too real:

McCurry pan? rory sez: looks more like a frickin' used McBed pan.

back to the frickin' subject at hand: bombs and advertising. there are thousands of unexploded munitions lying around iraq from the current and previous conflicts. the coalition has used clusterfuck bombs. holy frickin' shit rummy and crew think: "the advertising potential is multiplied by the use of clusterfuck munitions." all those little bomblets from one big bomb. nevertheless, under Department of Defense Guidelines, the messages, promotional or otherwise, must remain positive, even on these sub-bomblets [clickitup].

sometimes there is collateral damage in the big advertising campaign for democracy. well what the fuck canya expect when the medium is the frickin' message?

clusterfuck bomb war crimes

clusterfuck bomb child victims

Ronald McDonald Impersonator Fired for Inappropriate Sock Puppet Comments

2006-04-24T15:43:00.000-07:00

for frickin' reference:

Billy Suggs, aka Ronzo the Klown, has been questioned by the FBI. No charges have been filed to date. "McDonald's will provide critical debriefing and counseling to all affected by this unfortunate situation," according to a corporate press release.

effigies 'r' us to open chain stores in india -- demand for bush related effigy supplies predicted to stay strong through 4th quarter

2006-04-22T16:55:00.000-07:00

why not start with an arguably irrelevant, arguably relevant image of a part of a rory collage, currently titled something like "War, uh, how frickin' silly it is, good god, in the grand scheme of cosmic time." by the way, the circular thingies are a medium used by rory that rory has yet to meet another using so if you know someone who does use the medium put 'em in touch with rory ... uh, the medium is ... aspirin. yep aspirin. because war gives rory a frickin' headache. and an aspirin painted with rory's special aspirin painting technique (classes forming for the year 2020) relieves the headache just a tad somefrickin'times.

remember when bush was in india and speechifyin' about all the opportunities for north american small business that globalization and the rise of an indian consumer class would bring? over in india w said: "Americans who come to this country will see Indian consumers buying McCurry Meals from McDonald's, home appliances from Whirlpool." that's a frickin direct quote
somewhere else w made a comment essentially saying "american worker, you may have lost your job to outsourcing, globalization, corporations willing to export production to the slave rather than import the slave to production, but heck, there gonna be a lot of opportunities to sell american shit to people in india." somewhere the first fuckwad pretty much said that. rory thought to himself. well, there's nothin' really made here to sell there ... because it's cheaper to make it there and more profitible to sell it here. so, what the fuck is he talkin' about? but then rory stops worryin' and starts thinkin'. well, he is the first fuckwad, after all. an' he says that those who have been fucked economically here should think about entruhprunurin' over in india. so rory starts thinkin' sommore. what izit that would sell over there that we could make over here. then rory realizes the answer is simple: effigies. effigies are big in india. but most of them look pretty shitty. everybody loves a good effigy, but nobody seems to love 'em as much as the indians. they like to burn bush. they like to burn pretty much anything that pisses 'em off. but take a look at the sorry ass type of effigy they are willing to work with. this one is bush:

from an earlier rory post (don't forget to clickitup):

then rory startz to thinkin' sommore. this is a market willing to accept really shoddy merchandize. frickin' captalist's dream. really shoddy and flammable merchandize. and in india, pissed off people get stoked burning just about anything. here'a an onion burning in effigy to protest onion prices goin' up:

rory gives this one a decent rating. it's an indian politician. look at the happiness in the faces in the crowd. effigy making is a feel good industry. the effigypruhnewer can make statements like a disney frickin' exec: we're imagineers, smile-merchants, catharsis-capitalists. hfs:

the finest work I've seen thus far has been from bhopal, where union carbide massacred many and left a legacy of horror, an early example of globalization at its finest. here a crowd carries union carbide ceo warren anderson to his fiery fate. still, one could criticize the abe lincolnesque semi-stovepip hat. still, anachronistic garb can tweak the brain in an interesting way:

in the UK, people avail themselves of mass-produced masks. this demonstrates that type of technology that can easily be adapted to enable high-quality effigy production by even those lacking time, artistic skills, and substantial funding, while allowing a substantial profit for the effigypruhnewer:

this bush effigy in prague isn't the best likeness, but it demonstrates the application of rudimentary puppet technology, which market research suggests would sell well in india if price can be kept low:

people like large effigies. here's an example of a large, lightweight effigy (bush being toppled in trafalgar square) which includes the ever-popular phallic missile motif:

in addition to being a fine example of phallic use of the missile, the above photo shows that toppling can be as satisfying as burning to a crowd.

this is meant to be a strangelovean donald rumsfeld riding a phallic munition:

the following effigy by hezbollah erected near the fatimah gate suggests that phallic use of missiles in conjunction with effigies has universal appeal. thus, marketers targeting india will want to include easy to use phallic munition options in a variety of shapes, sizes and colors to add profit.

granted, the hezbollah effigy is of a more two dimensional variety, but the photographic reproduction of bush's visage is excellent. storage and stealth issues would suggest that the effigy retailer would be wise to stock both two and three dimensional effigies and accessories. but rory gives it fairly high markz as far as bush effigies go. you can almost hear the effigy saying:

"I'm a war president. I make decisions here in the Oval Office in foreign-policy matters with war on my mind. Again, I wish it wasn't true, but it is true. And the American people need to know they got a president who sees the world the way it is. And I see dangers that exist, and it's important for us to deal with them."
the famous I'm a war president interview

the creators of this effigy might be engaged as designers for the high-end market:

the above could have been entered in international competition and had a reasonable chance of winning a prize. there has already been a best bush effigy contest in iran. again, effigy marketers and contest promoters take note.

rory sez: the effigy industry's gonna be bigger than McCurry. why the american middle class will frickin' rise again on the greenbacks of burning bushes. the war president? hell, he's the opportunity president, I guess, the way he's opening up those new markets in india. and speakin' of McCurry, recall this image, which demonstrates that those offended by McCurrization are going to be another fertile market for ready-made effigies:

finally, for some reason, rory leaves you with another arguably relevant arguably irrelevant image from a rory collage:

rory returnz with a ramblin' post, after wandering off the path

2006-04-19T19:59:00.000-07:00

Hard to know where to start after a few days. in this wacked high speed world bein' gone for even a short time can make you feel a little like rip van winkle.

rory posted on the Easter Egg Roll at the House of Death and then internet access died for a couple of days. rory doesn't believe in such things necessarily, but it was almost as if it was meant to be that way. Like that was all rory had to say for awhile. Like rory had to sit with what that little post meant to him. cause rory is more of a what's happening to one human child guy than a big picture policy guy. rory really made himself feel his sorrow with that post. and such warm, beautiful comments came in from beautiful denizens of the blogosphere, a bunch while rory had no 'net. Meanwhile the White House bomb makers prepared for the Egg Roll:

or wuzit:

in the meantime, I heard that W was gonna give a press conference on global warming and his vision for protecting momma roundrock.

but then rory heard another rumor that he was gonna make another victory landing on the lincoln with several pairs of donnie rumsfeld's dirty socks stuffed into the crotch of a more colorful flightsuit with corporate endorsements explicity printed right on it:

with no 'net, rory had no way of telling whether these were just rumorz.

meanwhile, roryz hand which had gotten banged up at work a couple weeks ago was gettin' better. it had served as a reminder to be thankful for a body currently working and in possession of two hands and ten fingers. a reminder not to take it for granted. a little corporeal post-it note that made me think of kids missing arms, fingers and hands due to the CLUSTERFUCK. when rory sez kids he means all the kids suffering amputations and other maimings at the hands of bushcheney and yankee-fuckin'-doodle-w-has-confidence-in-his-wrinkled-white-mass-killer's-ass-rumsfeld -- all the kids, the ones in uniform from the US and the ones who should be playing and going to school in Iraq.

the banged up hand took rory to the doctor a couple times. the last time was to get clearance to get off "light duty." so as rory leaves the doctor's office he spies this skunk. In a driveway behind the strip mall where the doctor's office is:

the little critter, this member of the weasel family, is lying on the pavement eating some crusts that some of the immigrant kitchen workers at a pizzeria have set out for her. I get pretty close to her, because I can see that she is nearly unconscious. not rabid, rory doesn't think. just very, very old. life ebbing from her cells, as they say. the day not too hot. not too cold. a breeze ruffling through her lovely fur.

rory talks to the kitchen workers. they say a cop had just been there, but said he couldn't do anything about it. they had thought he would shoot the skunk. a woman walks by headed for the nail salon paying little attention to the skunk. when a skunk is down and out it becomes invisible in plain sight just like a person. rory goes to the nearby veterinarian's office in the same strip mall. they know about the skunk. nothing they can do. animal control is not interested in the situation. it's up to the landlord of the strip mall and the landlord doesn't want to deal with it. rory feelz happy. nobody is taking jurisdiction over the skunk. nobody is trapping it or killing it. it is being allowed to live out its last few hours with a breeze blowing through its fur and a little bit of food to munch in the presence of humans treating it with kindness and respect. at least that's how it looked at the moment. somebody might have done something later. or maybe rory got the whole picture wrong. rory hopz not. there is nothing wrong with letting a wild animal die a natural death. even in an unnatural place.

all that for some reason reminded rory that sometimes it is better to do nothing. don't just do something. sit there. people are doing way too much out there these days. often doing nothing does the least harm. so no net. a bum hand. a sad post. and a message to do nothing. an absence of few days for rory.

Then there was a birthday celebration for one of roryz sisters-in-law. prepare a gift rory. don't blog. prepare a gift. rory prepares a gift:

a "mask" rory made. a silver tongue painted. a mask that reminds one to stick one's tongue out at the world. an agate third eye to conjure vision through the shitstorm raging out there. shit like that.

a quick walk by the river before the birthday dinner. an oh so brief checkin with the clock of living nature. easter sunday. the dutchman's breeches are blooming along the edge of the woods.

every once in awhile, rory likes has to take the advice: don't just do something, sit there. not that I've been sitting. far from it. my body has been a movin'. but my brain, it's been sittin'. meanwhile the internet access got fixed, maybe right this time, 'twas a problem up the pole across the street, rory appreciated the comments from the beautiful souls who checked in with the last post, and roryz copy of Baghdad Burning arrived from the Feminist Press. rory hadn't spent any time to speak of at Riverbend's famous blog from occupied Iraq until recently. Baghdad Burning ... such eloquence. such a capture of the reality of life in Iraq for one intelligent, brave, scared, heartbroken young woman. rory'll be reading the collection in the book and following her blog. in spare moments. rory is already worried about her. funny how this blogging world works on your mind and soul. riverbend hasn't posted since April 2. where are you riverbend? there must be so many who want to kill this beautiful heroic spirit. but then her internet access is sporadic, with electricity coming and going, among other problems. her sorrow and depression must be overwhelming. and indeed there must be many days now in Baghdad where the safest thing an educated woman blogger can do is ... nothing.

To those of you who missed rory during this brief hiatus, know this: rory missed you as well. rory has much catching up to do. rory will be visiting his blog neighbors. the hour is late and tomorrow will be a long hard day. so most visiting will have to wait just a little bit longer. brothers and sisters rory luvz you.

Time for the Easter Egg Roll on the Lawn of the House of Death -- Some Kids Left Behind

2006-04-14T16:32:00.000-07:00

The Bush administration loves children so much, it continues the tradition of opening the White House grounds on Easter Sunday so kids can have fun pushing Easter Eggs across the lawn.

The Easter Bunny will be in attendance this year, as in years past.

The Bushes love kids. Maybe Laura will read to some of the kids at the Easter Festivities.

Maybe this child would like to hear the story:

Mrs. Cheney looks so jolly. Aren't the character costumes grand?

Maybe this little boy would enjoy the fancy costumes the administration has prepared to delight the kids.

This woman has been taking questions about the Easter Egg Roll on the White House web site. Her name is Sarah Armstrong.

In response to one question Ms. Armstrong named some of the characters who will be present this year: "We have a wonderful group of entertainers, magicians, and strolling characters this year. For example, Aly & AJ will sing the National Anthem, as well as, perform at one of the entertainment stages later in the day. In addition, Jack Hanna will delight children with all sorts of animals. Strolling around will be Curious George, Cookie Monster, Clifford the Big Red Dog, characters from the animated movie “Ice Age,” and many others."

rory has a question for ms. armstrong. what fun do you have in store for this little girl, Eman, whose family was machine-gunned by U.S. Marines?

According to Time Magazine:

When the Marines entered [her] house, they were shouting in English. "First, they went into my father's room, where he was reading the Koran," she claims, "and we heard shots." According to Eman, the Marines then entered the living room. "I couldn't see their faces very well—only their guns sticking into the doorway. I watched them shoot my grandfather, first in the chest and then in the head. Then they killed my granny." She claims the troops started firing toward the corner of the room where she and her younger brother Abdul Rahman, 8, were hiding; the other adults shielded the children from the bullets but died in the process. Eman says her leg was hit by a piece of metal and Abdul Rahman was shot near his shoulder. "We were lying there, bleeding, and it hurt so much. Afterward, some Iraqi soldiers came. They carried us in their arms. I was crying, shouting 'Why did you do this to our family?' And one Iraqi soldier tells me, 'We didn't do it. The Americans did.'"

Time Magazine on the Haditha Massacre

what one Marine in Iraq had to say about the Massacre

rory sez: it's important to read what's at both these links. only a fool will take this post as attacking U.S. service people in general. the Marine blogger linked obviously doesn't feel any more positive about what happened in to Eman's family and others than does rory.

rose is indeed a rose -- rory's got the Pogues cranked up -- thanks to rose

2006-04-14T11:23:00.000-07:00

People of beautiful spirit, kindness, humor and generosity who truck on like that even with the shitstorm ragin' outside are treasure. I "met" a person like that early on in my short bloggin' stint. rose. You read her blog and her comments and you knowit. No fiction based reality there. Just real. Semi-sane, yes, and ain't that a lovely thing. But real. So, this Rose, she posts the lovely lyrics to the Pogues rendition of Waltzing Matilda, a beautiful, anti-war song that'll play your heart with sad velvet fingers. I comment: "one of my favorite songs, or somethin' like that ... used to be in possession of the album from whence I first heard it -- rum sodomy and the lash, it's called -- makes me wanna hear it." Make a short story shorter: she sends rory the album! I get it today. But there's more beautiful music and color in the envelope ... from the one who blogs in color. rory thankz rose. And again the lyrics of Waltzing Matilda, which Rose put up recently:

Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

How I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was ready, oh he primed himself well;
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

Those who were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

They collected the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all tired, stiff and sore,
The weary old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, their numbers get fewer...
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

bush administration iraq exit strategy explained through interpretive dance

2006-04-14T04:37:00.000-07:00

If that's a frickin' "windup" then grits ain't groceries, eggs ain't poultry and mona lisa was indeed a frickin' man

2006-04-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

"If one is to rule, and to continue ruling, one must be able to dislocate the sense of reality,” Orwell writes somewhere in 1984. Your sense of reality has got to be pretty much torn from its socket to consider the studly Dick to be “winding up.” There ain’t nothin’ wound in that picture. And very little that’s “up.” The Dickster looks more like something a kid should be pushing across the White House lawn with a spoon during the annual Easter Egg Roll. Course a kid with a spoon couldn’t do that. You’d need a construction worker drivin’ at least a Bobcat for that task.

Here’s my caption: “An overweight Vice President, standing well in front of the pitcher’s mound in hopes of reaching home plate with his feeble throwing arm, elevates his left heel about one inch off the grass and extends his leg almost as if he is stepping across a puddle, in preparation for a wobbly throw clocked at 18.2 miles per hour.' Burn it in there Dick.

"wind up" ... my ass.

Takin' It to The Streets

2006-04-12T17:35:00.000-07:00

Most Flatulent President In History -- IV

2006-04-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

FANFARE, and then:
ANNOUNCER: The sphincterous skidmark drawer printing Warhole-in-chief returns to roryshock and steps from behind the gas-billowed curtain for another set of stench-trench dispatches. Recall that Bush has been renowned for his flatulence since childhood, refining his seat thunder to a fine art while president of Delta house at Yale, and never tiring of getting a rise out of people by means of one of his remarkable crack blasts so often accompanied by his mindless giddy giggling. No function of state, no casualty report, no news of natural disaster, is too solemn to escape W's puerile fart humor. Ladeez and gennelmenz, Part IV. Don't forget to click the graphics to expand 'em.

Muffled by the seat cushion, Bush’s lethal creeper soon reaches the King of Jordon’s nostrils. The King exhales forcefully yet discretely, trying to blow the noxious gas away from his face. The press has learned to stay at a safe distance during these post-lunch photo ops. microphones on the longest available extension booms have become standard equipment. bush looks on with fascination, closely studying the King’s reaction, with rare concentration:

rory sez: immigrants are not the enemy and "illegality" is but a scam when the Titans of Meat and Money invited 'em here

2006-04-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

January 2002 somethin' was buggin' me so I scribbled out a "cartoon" between more "productive" activities. This is it. You gotta clickonit to see it well at all.

bottomlineisthis: meat packin' corps, like Tyson that owned stock in Wild Bill Clinton, want cheap, desperate, scared labor. they want labor that can't file for worker's comp when they get cut up or get broken by the swingin'-from-chains-kickin'-dyin' growth-hormone-anti-biotic-enriched-USDA-cows they have to hack up all day long on floors slippery with blood so that johnny can have a cheap burger and ceo can have a porsche, a mongo house or two, plenty of golf time, and all that sort of shit. the meat packers want labor that's too damn afraid to even talk union, because when the"illegal" immigrant union-talker gets fired in violation of unionization laws, the talker is completely fucked. "illegals" are not really here. big business, and in particular big agribusiness, along with their enabling bitches in the government, created the immigration "crisis." guess they feel like there's a little TOO MUCH cheapass labor around now. need to cut it back a little bit. guess what fuckwads, the damage is done. your cheap labor may also be the seeds of your comeuppance from whence a new labor movement will grow, one that's too big and too desperate for you to fuck over with impugnity. See, the other thing about all this cheap labor you brought in ... a lot of 'em don't have a lot to lose. just a lot to gain.

the laws aren't there to protect "illegals." by definition they are on the outside of the law looking in. they'll get locked up and deported by a suddenly interested INS if they become really visible instead of remaining one of the invisible-visible. this is good for the meat packer ceos and their main minions. its really bad for all workers in the bigger picture. even better for the ceos and minions if the "illegal" workers have been here for awhile and have kids. gives 'em more to lose. makes 'em more willing to keep their mouths shut, suck it up and live with the carpal tunnel syndrome a little longer. take care of that 27 stitch-lines-too-fast-knife's-too-dull gash on their own. "illegal." man, I can see why a lotta people are tired of being that kinda "illegal." how the fuck can we consider people "illegal" that were invited here by the power structure to be used by the power structure for the power structure. that ain't fair. cognitive dissonance is speading in this country like weeds on a forgotten rightofway. time to pull a few of the weeds of dissonance.

recently, "illegal" people learned that they have a lotta power. meat production in this country took a massive hit as a result of the immigrants' rights demos. cattle killin' was down 28%. bossie got to hang out in the feedlot a few more hours before being swung upside down on a hoist and cut up to put the green in boss man's pockets. still, the meat packin' magnates were up to their old ways, sending out the message: for example, 15 workers, some "illegal" but employees of several years, were canned for attending recent immigrant's rights rallies.

Now those of us who feel it when wages stagnate or are driven down by excess labor willing to work cheaply could be pissed off at the immigrants. I say don't be pissed off at the immigrants. don't be pissed off at the dude who is only a pawn in the game. makes as much sense as being pissed at iron shavings for moving toward a magnet, really. no don't be pissed at the "illegals."

rorysez: this isn't about "them and us" -- the "illegal" immigrants versus those of us who fit the current definition of "legal immigrant" -- it's about THEM AND US -- the people versus those who deny reasonable power, safety, wages, and basic human rights to PEOPLE. Something is making the invisible ones willing to come out and be visible. hello people, they are here. millions of 'em. the invisible have begun appearing in the streets. and there's not gonna be enough fence available to keep 'em inside a "free speech zone." and a lot of people are being reminded while others are being shown for the first time that when labor sticks together the worker has power. you can fuck over some of the people some of the time, but you can't fuck over most of the PEOPLE all the time.

rory recommendz: Blood Sweat and Fear (Human Rights Watch)

bush's scrotum declared safe from wishes of indicted mental patient; elderly woman praying for cheney's pecker to fall off to be indicted next

2006-04-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

Arafat Nijmeh, a mental patient in East St. Louis, told his case workers and then the Secret Service that he "WANTED TO" castrate President Bush,, according the reports rory has read. WANTED TO. He then told the Secret Service agents that the old radical cojonectomy "is not too harsh, considering what he has done to my country [Palestine]. If not that, then maybe something else, you know?" Later he said he was joking. For this, he was arrested and indicted for THREATENING the president. Now he faces hard time in club Fed. What the fuck is going on here? If every person who ever had a fleeting thought of some bodily harm befalling Bush and mentioned it were indicted and locked up tomorrow, I suspect that we would have to pull out of Iraq to be able to afford the prison expansion necessary.
Note: rory wishes no physical harm on anyone, including bush and his cronies. physical harm is wrong and fucked up. so is locking up a mental patiient for saying he wanted to lop Shrub's bubs Neverthefrickinless, with the arrest and incarceration of Nijmeh, the presidential castration threat has been downgraded back to yellow from red where it briefly stood. Rear Admiral Chilito Numnutz, shadow NSA director, declared the presidential jelly bag safe and secure. Nijmeh has been locked in a wish proof cell at a secure Federal Facility, where he is undergoing preliminary, torture-recipient orientation, in preparation for his transfer to Gitmo as an enemy combatant. Numnutz said, "No matter how hard this individual wishes for harm to befall the presidential nutsack, those wishes, those desires, those wants, will not be able to escape the walls of his cell.

This cell is specially designed to keep all mental energy contained within where it cannot reach the outside world." Holy Fuckin' shit people. rory sez these people are fucking psychotic! but I guess it standstofrickin' reason that if a mental patient can be threatening the president for wanting his balls lopped off, you've gotta make sure you lock up those wants. HFS! they have actually built thought prisons. but then that does standstofrickin' reason when you've got thought police and people arrested for thought crimes. you can't just lock up the person. you've gotta lock up the frickin' thoughts. so roryz thinkin' what the frick? was W wearing a tinfoil jock to protect himself or somethin'? well it turns out it's worse than that.

Homeland Security Secretary Chertoff is already holding press conferences to milk this one for publicity:

rorysez: this is complete frickin' madness. again, just when rory thinkz it cannot get any frickin' worse, it does! An 86-year-old woman is ratted out by her Priest for admitting to praying for Cheney's Dick to fly off! During her interrogation by the Secret Service, she admitted that she would really like to see that happen. Cantaloppa Fasta said, "Eh, he fucked the American people, let God take his chipolata! Yes, I prayed it would fly off and go down the sewer! Yes, I really want his chipolata to come off!"

Grandma Fasta is in custody. An indictment is expected this week. complete frickin' madness people. well, if you're gonna have thought police and wish police, rory guesses you're gonna hafta have some prayer police also.

rory reflects on Gonzo's misplaced heart, skunk cabbage, aphrodisiacs, hawks, crows, and domestic surveillance while takin' a walk in the woods

2006-04-08T17:34:00.000-07:00

rory went for a walk to clear his mind and ease his body, which worked hard this week. His mind had been poisoned by glancing through the papers and seeing that Gonzo Gonzales and Shrubya were spraying verbal firehose diarrhea from their facial sphincters again on the subject of domestic spying. Basically Gonzo said "fuck this international call limitation bullshit, man. If Shrubya says spy on something totally happenin' in the US with US citizens, without no warrant, no court order, hell we gonna do it." Gonzo, I've seen the frickin' toilet paper with Shrubya's face on it. rory hasn't seen the toilet paper with the 4th Amendment on it. Neverthefrickinless rory understands you have got rolls of custom made asswipes with the Bill of Rights printed on 'em. Fly-On-the-Wall told me you wipe your ass with that stuff, then hold it up in front of your face and smile while you think to yourself, "inherent powers of the executive." That's good Gonzo. I guess you know where your asshole is located. You sure as shit don't know where your frickin' heart is though, do you? rory meanz that both literally and figuratively. Take a look at the following nauseating picture friends, if your stomachs will tolerate it at the moment and take special frickin' note of where Gonzo's right hand is placed:

Hey Gonzo, you fuckwad, last time I checked, you're supposed to put your hand over your HEART when you pledge allegiance to the Republic for which the frickin' flag stands! So what's goin' on here Gonzo? Here are a few possibilities, as rory seez 'em: 1. You don't know where the fuck your heart is. 2. You figure if you hold your hand over your stomach instead of your heart, it's kinda like keepin' your fingers crossed [seein' as how you don't really believe in the Republic for which the flag stands, seein' as how you like to wipe your sanctimonious sphincter with the Bill of Rights]. 3. You don't actually have a frickin' heart. 4. You learned science from a frickin' creationist numbskull who taught you that where you are holding your hand is the frickin' biblical location of the heart.

rory thinkz: "I'm goin' for a walk in the woods. Gonna just groove on nature and nature alone. Contemplate bein' almost a week into the Footwear New Year. Wear the new boots. [rory didn't wear 'em this week because of the kind of work he was doin', mostly from a boat]. Wonderful day for a walk. 40's, some rain, some sleet, then it stopped. Nobody out where rory went. I love "bad" weather. It keeps the hominids away from even the edges of nature in these parts. rory luvz people, mind you, especially the kinds you might meet in the shitty weather. Today I met no hominids on my walk. But it wasn't long before I heard a pair of hawks calling back and forth, just as I approached this Spruce and Pine grove:

I got a good look. Cooper's Hawks. Looking all ruffled from wet windy weather. Occasionally deftly flying short distances from Spruce Branch to Spruce branch. rory was transported. rory had a smile on his face. wet earth covered with needles. occasional cold drop falling on nose, brow or jacket with a "plick." hawks disporting in the trees. one hawk flew off a distance. soon 4 crows arrived. they flew close to the hawk that had stayed in a tree near rory. they loudly yelled at the hawk in their crow language. they were a unity subflock. one of the crows flew out to provoke the hawk to flight, approaching repeatedly, feinting, calling, flying off and returning, as the yells of those remaining in the tree grew louder and more excited. after a few minutes, at a moment when the crows were slightly quieter, perhaps distracted by something, the hawk left its perch, beat its short accipiter wings a couple of times, and made off through the branchs. the conflict had ended without bloodshed. rory took a photo just to show the view up into the trees. by accident the decoy crow appears at the bottom, if you look closely:

April 8. rory introduces new boots to what he learned to call "Adder's Tongue." There are apparently several wildflowers that go by this term, depending upon region. The correct term for the the flower in question is "Trout Lily." It is also called "Dogtooth Violet." But it's not a violet. It's a lily. The bulb favors a dog's tooth. Here's a picture of many Adder's Tongues today.

Soon they will bear pretty yellow flowers. part of the living clock of nature. perhaps rory will be lucky enough to return to this very tree when the Trout Lilies shown here are in bloom:

Iroquois women purportedly chewed the leaves of Trout Lily to "prevent conception." How unfrickin' fundachristianmentalist of them. Pope Ratso condemns Trout Lily as historically discouraging abstinence as a form of birth control. Father Hardon maintained that its use as birth control by Iroquois women caused Iroquois men to become homosexuals.

rory keeps walkin'. he's thinkin' about what Earnest Sagegrouse told him. The government is gonna have cameras everywhere eventually. sensors. thermal imagers. the whole barcode-microchip-gps-transmitter-schtick. rory duznt know if Sage really believes it, or just likes to talk this sort of shit. rory did start to get the feelin' he was bein' watched out there. holy shit, right at that moment he was. rory was able to bring the camera up and get a snap of the woodland spy:

We hominids are alwasy being watched when we walk in the woods. I saw plenty of birds check me out. Robins. Phoebe. Hermit thrush. among others. some of them talked about me. I saw squirrels watching me as they went about their business. who knows how many creatures registered my presence that I'll never know were there. I barely saw a great blue heron in a stream as she flew off at my approach. she perceived me before I perceived her and that's a huge bird. and these whitehouse fuckwads seem to think they invented "domestic spying."

Still testing out his new boots, rory goes for a closer look at the skunk cabbage:

The skunk cabbage is lovely and well-along this April 8. No need to melt snow through thermogenesis, as it does sometimes. One of several plants that heat themselves well above ambient temperatures when necessary.

rory walkz on. within maybe 150 yards of the skunk cabbage, rory comes upon Bloodroot. this is relatively easy to photograph. the flowers are up, but not opened. so beautiful after the rain. the palmate leaves will open soon, as well.

the root is red as the name says. Edgar Cayce apparently used this plant to give himself firehose diarrhea to cleanse his system. Various indigenous North Americans used the plant to dye things red and as a red makeup. According to certain modern day herbalists, bloodroot can make you hurl, as well. Also, they say it can sedate, stimulate, anesthetize, and kill you. But it's usually used by modern herbalists to make you hawk up phlegm, or as the genteel say, as an "expectorant." Others have claimed that it can be used as an aphrodisiac or a love charm. rory is a little reluctant to even mention this last use, as I expect a bunch of crazy fuckers to head outdoors looking for all the bloodroot they can find, digging it up, drying it, and selling it in some frickin' chinatown market along with shark fin, rhino horn, tiger prick, or some other such thing as a hominid-pecker-rigidity-enhancer. the "wild" stuff will go for 10 times as much as the "domestic" variety, no doubt. Crazy frickin' naked apes! rory sez, don't go dig up all the frickin' blood root. you won't get wood because you'll be pukin', coughin up phlegm, and simultaneously shit-spackling the interior of the porcelain throne if you fuck with this plant, not to mention possibly leaving your fucking earthly container altogether. so just be content with enjoying how bloodroot looks. by the frickin' way [any of you crazy male aphrodisiac seekers that got here through some googledipitous happenstance] did I tell you that strawberry yoohoo will make your love tool harder than shark fin? all you stupid fuckwads who are contributing to the decimation of the world shark population in the hopes of a hardon: drink strawberry yoohoo instead! hey droopy-donged-dimwits: just 'cause a rhino horn is rigid and upright doesn't mean that eating bits of it will make that hangin' skin in your crotch reach for the stars! by that logic, why don't you grind up a frickin' flagpole and mix it in your oatmeal? strawbery yoohoo, fuckwads. leave nature alone. get a tool implant. take viagra or whatever they're sellin' now. drink strawberry yoohoo. stop killin' sharks.

On my way back, I get the frickin' feeling that I'm being watched again. Holy Shit! I think Sage was right.

Warning to you imbeciles who might ingest shit without knowing what you are doing: Don't eat wild plants. If you don't know what you are doing, you might kill yourself, spontaneously become hermaphroditic, or completely alter your personality without realizing it. Remember kids, respect nature. If you don't, sooner or later it will fuck you up. with roryshock apologies to usual faithful readers of intelligence, good taste, and discretion.

All photos except the one of Gonzo holdin' his gut and W feeling his nipple through his jacket taken by rory on April 8, 2006. Sorry I was gone so long.

What do gay human-action figure fellatio, death row marv, and Father Hardon have in common? (you might legitimately ask after reading this post)

2006-04-05T15:39:00.000-07:00

Fuckit folks. excuse rory's deletion madness. but, the deletion thing was a learning experience for rory. oh fuckin' A. it was good for rory to learn about the realities of post deletion. there are many ramifications. definitely not something to be taken lightly. Well here it is again. Fellatio on an action figure. Death Row Marv. And the wonderfully named "Father HARDON." what the fuck?

Okay, I look at this picture and I see a man going down on Jesus. Well, not Jesus per say, but a small replica of an idea of Jesus. He's goin' down on a scantily clad, good lookin', white Jesus. Would he be goin' down on the action figure of a 5' 1" 110 pound with a smelly ass Jesus who looked like this according the the BBC? rory sez: that's a question for another frickin' day, I guess. Well, anyway, the man in the red hat is not going down on just a small replica of an idea of Jesus, but a replica, or a toy, or an action figure, however you want to frickin' say it, of JESUS BEING EXECUTED. The man in the red hat is putting his lips on the crotch of a replica of a man being executed. Now, if you or I placed our lips on the crotch of an action figure in public, what would people think? More specifically, what if we fellated the crotch of an action figure being executed? You could use a Jesus on the cross action figure, or you could use another condemed action figure like death row Marv if you wanted to see how people would react. Suppose you were to put execution Marv on a pillow and place your pursed lips on his crotch in public. Would this be considered a lewd display? If you wore a red, Chinese hat would people think it was okay? Would you be permitted to engage in acts of human-action figure fellatio in public? Would people be as disturbed as the woman in the background of the picture above seems to be?

Additionally, rory has to point out that this is gay human-action figure interaction. Rory thought he should ask the Pope himself what he thought about gay human-action figure mock fellatio, seein' as how the Pope claims to be pretty much down on homosexual activity. At first the Pope was too busy and happy to address the question.

Don't worry, during ceremonial occasions such as that depicted above, the Pope wears the Papal Chastity Helmet on "the little pope." Here a Chastity Helmet is presented to him as a gift with some notes on use by Sylvester Stallone in an Italian police officer costume.

When the Pope finally did listen to rory's question about human-action figure gay sex, he misunderstood what rory was frickin' talkin' about, apparently not hearing the "human" part:

Since the Pope wasn't gonna usefully address this question, rory thinkz "maybe it would be good to ask Father HARDON what he thinks about gay human-action figure interactions." 'Cause roryz heard that Hardon is a fount of wisdom. Okay, you think Father HARDON is the punchline to some crappy, juvenile dirty joke, like Pastor Pussy? Wrong. Father Hardon, may he rest in piece, was real. I guess it was pretty hard not to laugh when they announced his appearance at function: "Comes now Father Hardon." But no joke, you can still "ask" Hardon's opinion on many key issues. I couldn't find anything on human-action figure relations. But he did speak out on homosexuality. He was a frickin' genius. He pretty much figured that one out. What he says about contraception causing homosexuality, makes me fairly certain that Hardon would not approve of public-gay-human-action figure-fellatio. Hardon's theory is so frickin' intelligent that rory feels the need to quote it at length here.

The Gospel according to Hardon:

"The relationship between contraception and homosexuality is seldom adverted to and, in homosexual circles, openly denied. Yet they are connected by the most basic laws of human society.

Contraception contradicts the most fundamental desire of the human heart: to give oneself in total generosity to another human being. Marital relations are meant by God to satisfy this desire between the married spouses.
But if women selfishly withhold this generosity from men, men will—tragically look for such generosity in other men. And women will look for it in other women.

As you read some of the homosexual and lesbian literature, you are moved to tears at seeing how a contraceptive society has begotten a homosexual society. In their desperate search for love, men will turn to other men and women to other women. To say they are being deceived is only to emphasize the pity of a sodomistic culture that is starving for love. Contraception deprives married people of the love that they expect to find in a marriage between two people of opposite and complementary gender."

Here it is from the mouth of Hardon himself: men and woment become gay because of the use of contraception in heterosexual relationships. HFS. Holy Fuckin' Shit. rory sez: I did not know that. And if you Google Father Hardon (you might want to make sure "safe search" is on) you'll find that his wisdom is apparently widely sought and followed even after the Catholic church lost its Hardon.

So, roryz still confused, perhaps even more confused. So rory tries to ask the Pope for guidance. What does the Pope do? He says "Up yours!" He couples the statement with an emphatic arm gesture and farts loudly and powerfully, blowing his garment into his face.

rory remains lost on the ramifications of the issue of gay-human-action-figure-fellatio. Oh frickin' well.

what jesus looked like according to BBC

from whence gay action figure sex scene came

father HARDON link

death row marv

rory deletes last night's post as palliative for mild case of blogposter's malaise

2006-04-05T10:06:00.000-07:00

It's hard to listen. But I am listening to nature right now. And that includes the nature within me. roryz nature within says: The last post doesn't feel right. I don't think I really like it. Maybe I just got tired of dwelling on the absurdity of clerics for the moment. Maybe I found the picture of the man in the red hat kissing Jesus' crotch disgusting. Maybe my own words in that post bored me. I don't know. I did it after a long day of hard physical activity when I was tired. I should have just sat with my tiredness and appreciated it. But I just had to frickin' blog. So I did that post. But I just don't like it. Therefore, I will delete it even as I post this post about the deletion. Strange though how little it takes to create feelings of "investment." Now, will it be disrespecting the commenters who have already commented to delete that post? Do I need to Support the Commenters despite my feelings about the post that precipitated the comments? Isn't it really alright anyway for a post just to be a comment stimulus? Ah, but rory will put aside his "can't pull out of the post now" doubts and delete. rory will put a magnetic "Support Our Commenters" ribbon on his vehicle and all will be well. And I thank you kind commenters. The comments were indeed better than the post. Oh yes, rory will delete. What a wonderful thing to be able to delete that which seems wrong, to listen to how one feels. Wait! rory will delete all of his blather and the rest of the pix, but leave the man in the red hat so that this deletion post will at least make some sense. And that way the comments will remain! Even though I was already feeling invested in complete post deletion as opposed to complete post retention, I am listening to how I feel. This feels like the better option. Holy shit! A partial deletion. Yes. A partial deletion it is. That feels right. For the moment. Oh shit ... now I'm starting to feel like maybe I should delete this post ...

What do gay human-action figure fellatio, death row marv, and Father Hardon have in common? (you might legitimately ask after reading this post)

2006-04-04T18:57:00.000-07:00

The rest of this post has been deleted as explained in the above post.

rory celebrates footwear new year; thanks his feet for their hard work, dedication and teamwork; and checks the living clock of nature. 4-2-06

2006-04-02T13:49:00.000-07:00

This pair has been my feet's best friends since last Spring. Look at them. Aren't they beautiful? So much history. They speak to me. An excerpt: "The things we've seen that you've missed, rory. Those beautiful green beetles copulating in the shade of a small rock on the trail, the Adder's Tongue Lily when no more than a green tip in moist brown earth. The vole scat in a circle on the trail just before the bluebell meadow, the silt clouds from underwater in the polliwog puddle. Ah, but you do recall the rattler under the leaf litter flicking lefty with her tongue. Of course lefty saw her first." Yes, dear friends we have traveled many miles, walked through mud, climbed cliffs, stood in streams, walked foggy alley pavements glistening with rain, stamped the snow off at the gates of many a convenience store, and hardly ever stepped in dog shit. It has been a good year. You have served me well. You have earned your light duty now. Righty, your torn toe attests to your courage dancing in scree. Lefty, you haven't complained about your split seam once. I love you guys.

It is Footwear New Year's day. April 2. This is the New Year that rory celebrates. rory sez: screw January 1st. Fuck the lunar new year. The equinoxes are the more significant natural dates to me, anyway. Equinox and Footwear New Year's Day. Footwear New Year's celebration involves acceptance of new boots and a breaking-in ceremony. Perhaps most importantly, it involves foot awareness. I remember to be grateful TO my feet. Often, but not often enough in this world of locomotion-prostheses for the healthy, my feet are my only carriage. On Footwear New Year's day I remember to be grateful FOR my feet. Not everyone has functional feet, or feet at all. Feet, I love you! I say this all day. I shout it to the hills. Feet I love you!

With some apprehension, I switched brands of footwear this year. The primary reason: I did not want to wear the skin of an animal whose death might have been ugly and painful and the culmination of hideous suffering and abuse at the hands of Chinese killers or any other executioners with no care about how much pain they inflict. I didn't want my shoes to have been the living organ of a creature slowly killed by a tightening wire garrot, a knife cutting its live throat, or hammer carelessly brought down on its head several times. rory sure as shit didn't want to be unknowingly wearing canine skin on his dogs. Especially not from doggies skinned alive to make a pair of shoes, a wallet, jacket or purse. And yet, rory's feet carry him many miles through some rough terrain, both during work and recreation. He likes comfortable, waterproof boots that let him dance over the scree without feeling like a spike is being driven into his instep and tiptoe over the talus with traction and support. His feet help to feed him and must be taken care of. The solution, rory hoped, had been found:

Weather was fine today for the breaking in ceremony. Titmice and chickadees were busy in the bittersweet vines. Ravens flew out over the cliffs enjoying the breeze and sun over the river. A peregrine falcon shot along the face of a cliff as rory walked in his new boots. Feet were feeling pretty good. The breaking-in ceremony was going well. There was a good scree simulator along the banks of the river and rory walked it in the new boots:

Hmm. Good ankle support on the uneven and unsteady rocks. Good foot protection from the sharp edges of rock. Feet to rory: 'I think we're falling in love again." rory keeps walking along the scree-simulationg bank. rory's not just thinking about his feet. He's feeling the breeze. The sun. Seeing what time it is in nature. Today this willow by the river looked like this:

Past the willow, on the beach, a Mourningcloak:

Every Butterfly has its time. Today is the time for this Mourningcloak. Oh, Butterfly who overwinters as an adult, who leaves the hibernaculum to gather energy on those lovely solar panel wings, who enjoys the first sap of Spring! rory is happy to see you. As he kneels to photograph the Butterfly, he notices that his new boots remain comfortable and in place, despite the change in position, the folding of toes. From this year forward, rory will associate the beautiful Mourning Cloak with Footyear New Year's Day, much as some associate the noisy spinning of cheap ratchets and the popping of champagne corks with u.s. new year's day.

The Mourning Cloak's context from rory's point of view;

On the way back, the tide was flooding. An excellent opportunity to test the waterproofness of the new boots and walk on slick rocks. And they performed well. Feet were dry. As good a coefficient of friction as you're gonna get between sole and slimy rock.

On the way back, a visage miraculously appeared in nature. Holy Mother Mary on a Flapjack! Jesus Christ on a Tortilla!! One of the Teletubbies on the beach! Placed there by the tides and divine intervention. Laa Laa, specifically. Keeper of the shape shifting ball. Frequent sayer of the word "Nice." Surely a sign. I mean, had it been Jesus on the cross, most would have taken it as a sign, a miracle, a message from god, no? For a moment, I thought this yellow Teletubbie was the daughter of a deity, or perhaps the sun goddess herself, and that she brought a blessing upon the boots. So, in the godless religion that rory creates anew with every beat of his heart, Laa Laa is now the saint of boots. Oh sacred sun-yellow Teletubbie of shifting orb, Laa Laa, bless the boots of rory and all his friends. Like the Mourningcloak, Laa Laa officially will henceforth be associated with Footwear New Year's Day and be worshipped during the ceremonial activities associated with the event. And for those of you who would accuse rory of livin' in Laa Laa land. rory sez: Fuckin' A!

New boots, rory thinks you and he are going to have many good times together through another cycle of the living clock of nature.

Tongues in Trees

2006-03-31T16:19:00.000-08:00

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused

2006-03-30T19:16:00.000-08:00

Part 2 is Posted and Part 1 is Reposted In Case You Missed it Or Wish to Reread It Before Reading Part 2.

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused -- Part 1

2006-03-30T19:14:00.000-08:00

Ben's note: Rory has been telling me bits and pieces of this damn story for years now intertwined with other vines in his overgrown memoir garden. Time for him to get on with the story. It's a true one. But he takes liberties with the truth whenever he damn well pleases, in my opinion. So, a good bout of dolphin waxing would be more productive than trying to sort out the bits that didn't happen from the bits that did. Bottom line: If Oprah were to call Rory a liar, he wouldn't give a shrew's scrotum. In fact, he'd kinda like it, I think.

Gonna try to get you a bit of Rory's rambles on Billy Ray maybe once a week 'til it's told. I'm sure he'll have trouble staying on point, wanna tell other stories, post on what runs in front of his nose, but we're gonna try. -- Ben

'Fuckin' A." -- Rory

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused (as told by Rory Shock) -- Part 1

A chimpanzee in Windtown, Kansas, killed her owner. Her name was Billy Ray and she was thought by the public to be a male. She made her living doing commercials for car dealer Cal Stokes (of he’s stokin'-up-a-deal-for-real fame) on television and in person, usually wearing a cowboy hat and a bright yellow windowpane suit with a bolo tie.

I’d seen Billy Ray in her yellow plaid suit, ten gallon hat, and bolo, on late night commercials. Every conceivable inane simian joke was used, every hackneyed human-concocted cliched chimp behavior mindlessly repeated. Like the one where Billy Ray was smoking a cigarette and Cal Stokes kept telling her to put it out before she got in the car, because Cal kept his “veehickels” smoke free. Seeing no evil, Billy Ray held her hands over her eyes when Cal approached a car with a machete to “slash” prices on a window sticker. She smiled an ape smile, with that only-chimps-have-it lip control, when Cal said “Nobody’s service is friendlier than ours.” She held her hands over her ears, hearing no evil, when Cal said he would give away any car on the lot if there was another car dealer with a friendlier Chimp in Windtown. She did a forward roll when prices were “tumbling.” She held her hands over her mouth, speaking no evil, when Cal asked her who was the best dealer in the Midwest. Cal chided her for “monkeying around,” when she was no more a monkey and no less an ape than he. But she wrote her own script and avoided cliche when she snatched him bald one night, tearing his scalp off with the swipe of one mighty hand. She pulled his right index and middle fingers off. They were found on the kitchen floor. She broke his neck by throwing him across the room by the head. Even an average-sized female chimp like Billy Ray is as strong as a 750-pound man made of muscle.

I got to represent Billy Ray because I’d been the lawyer for a local university student, Molly Chandler, who had freed the rats from the laboratory breeding ranch up on campus. Molly was surprised to meet up with a lawyer who had read Animal Liberation by Peter Singer. I told her that since I had seen Roger Fouts on 20/20 with Hugh Downs meeting his old chimp friend Bouie after so many years and Bouie remembered his nickname in American Sign Language, I’d been thinkin about how fucked up it is that chimps, many of whom served honorably in the space program and other scientific enterprises, face torture, both physical and psychological, despite being neither enemy combatants nor criminals. I mentioned some of my favorite books, like Jane Goodall’s In the Shadow of Man, DeWaal’s Peacemaking Among Primates, The Great Ape Project, and Visions of Caliban. I told her that Jane Goodall was one of my heroes, actually the only one I could think of at that moment. She told me that she had met Jane Goodall after a speech and had an autographed copy of Through a Window. Anyway, she trusted me and I’d kept her out of jail on the rat bit. She had a patron that wanted to pay fees and expenses to keep them from executing Billy Ray at all, let alone without due process of law. So she called me. She told me that Billy Ray was being held without bail, so to speak, in an old cage at the Windtown Zoo. The cage had actually been the home of a long-suffering polar bear who expired during a Kansas heat wave, I think is what I was told. The government’s plan was to give Billy Ray a lethal injection. So we had to act quickly. I became her lawyer.

I got a temporary injunction that gave us 10 days to file briefs and have a hearing for an extension. In the meantime, I learned that the case had been assigned to a Judge by the name of Alan Wrench. I shit you not. I’d never had any dealings with him before, so I called a friend who had. Friend of the name Mendicant Friar. Again, I shit you not. I recall that conversation so clearly.

So, I’d told Mendi to whom the case was assigned. He said, “Brother, that Judge is a fucking Pentecostal. He comes from southwestern Missouri.”

“Meth labs in beatup trailers and holy rollers,” I responded. We all have our unfair biases and preconceptions. That’s what makes us human. Actually I pretty much can’t say those things about “that’s what makes us human” too much anymore after the Billy Ray case without thinking it’s bullshit.

“Yep. Seems his father was a minister or pastor or whatever the fuck they call their preachers.”

[Ben's note: Rory is about to say words that show a lack of respect for something venerated by others: a particular religion. I told him that we were gonna lose our Pentecostal readership. He laughed and slapped his thigh at that one. And I said to him, “probably, if and when Billy Ray ever comes out in print, there’ll be a burnin’ party.” He responded like he often says but doesn’t entirely mean, “Fuckit. I don’t care.” Actually, he seemed quite pleased at the burning book vision.]

“Mendi, I looked into this Pentecostal thing back when John Asscrapt became Attorney General, more or less just out of curiosity, because he was one. I learned that those are the fuckers that have Lord seizures, jabber nonsense, speak in tongues, whatever.
What the fuck is the theory there? The words of god are gibberish? God loves morons? Man, they don’t dance. They don’t drink. They think gay people are evil. Generally, they love the death penalty and would happily give it to you if you’re a doctor who removed a thimbleful of nonsentient flesh from a 13 year-old fucked by Uncle Biff.”

“Yeah, Rory, and it doesn’t matter what you do all life long. You can rape, cornhole babies, steal widow’s life savings, cut throats, beat your wife black and blue, torch your friend’s double-wide, waste a cop, and publicly unrinate on a daily basis and still be forgiven and walk into heaven happy, pampered, eternally blissful. Even if you spend a life trying to alleviate pain instead of spreading it, if you don’t accept Jesus into your life by the time you take your last breath you go to some fucking cliched version of hell where there is brimstone and fire and all sorts of shit like that.”

“Well, Mendi, let me guess what they think about animals.”

“Book of fuckin’ Genesis.”

“That’d be the God-put-em-here-for-us-to-do-whatever-the-fuck-we-want-with-the-story. Hunt, eat, skin, wear, and I suppose in modern times, experiment upon. But where the fuck do they stand on bestiality?”

“That’s pretty much ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“So, you can fuck chickens all your life long as long as you accept Jesus before you die. ... that certainly stands to reason if you can fuck children and still go to heaven, then you ought to be able to fuck, pluck, roast and eat fowl and enter the white cloud Hollywood biblical land of milk and honey. So, anyway, you’re not gonna believe this Mendi, I’ve got case in front of him involving whether a chimpanzee is legally a person.”

“Fuck, you’ve got that case? I saw something about it on the news.”

“I’m a little concerned about his views on evolution and genetics.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Mendi, I assume he’s a fucking creationist. So, what’s he gonna make outta the fact that we’ve got almost 99 percent of the same DNA as chimps?”

“Maybe that 99% just won’t do. God put the chimp here as a lesson to man. As an advertising mascot for the depilation industry, which is still growing. As an amusement because they do seem similar. Or maybe god put ‘em here for experimentation and 99% the same DNA makes them excellent research subjects for human diseases? Somethin’ like that.”

“Yeah.”

After we hung up, I thought to myself, Pentecostal, hmm. Guess I better learn up real good on them uns. Know thine enemy. Understand your adversary. Knowledge is power. Face the source of you anxiety. Like that. so I do what you do nowadays. I get on the web.

Before too long, I am growing disturbed. Among other things I find this explanation of the significance of the holy jabber known as speaking in tongues -- glossolia -- in the official doctrine of the United Pentecostal Church:

“The tongue provides the greatest expressions of the human spirit. We humans are spiritual and emotional beings, and as such we must give expression to our emotions. The ability and power to coordinate thought and tongue into intelligent speech is one of our highest prerogatives, elevating us above the beasts of the field. This ability makes us superior to the rest of God's creation on earth, and it is the most distinguishing feature of our being.

The tongue becomes the vehicle of expression for the spirit.
All of the emotions--such as love, hate, anger, sorrow, joy, happiness, relief, serenity--are communicated through the tongue. The tongue is the gate way to the heart, feelings, attitudes, and spirit.”

Holy shit! I think to myself, here’s one argument I’m gonna hear from the other side, I’ll bet. Chimps don’t “coordinate thought and tongue into intelligent speech.” What about humans who don’t do this, of which there are plenty, I wonder. Are sign-language users unholy, nonpersons under this frickin' Pentecostalism? Can you speak in tongues with your fingers? Can a chimp speak in tongues? What if I can convince the Judge that Chimp chatter is really just God taking control of the Chimp tongue? Maybe I can find an expert who will testify that Chimp chatter can be glossolia. And here it is again this pervasive human fucking arrogance that we are “superior to the rest of God’s creation on earth.” Well superior in the sense that we can dominate any creature and kill any creature, anyway. My head is already spinning. But then I’m a little bit happy, because I realize that I have another overgrown trail of learning to hack through: I must study Chimp language experiments. Shit, I must go even further. I must try to communicate with my client. I must get to know her. Who is she? And, needless to say, I must find out why she killed Cal.

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused -- Part 2

2006-03-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused
As told by Rory Shock

Part 2

Things began badly with Hon. Allen Wrench, shortly after we announced our appearances for the Court.
JUDGE WRENCH: Court calls the case captioned In re: Billy Ray, A Person of the Species, Pan troglodytes.
RORY SHOCK: May it please the court, Rory shock for the accused, Billy Ray.
DICK DORK: For State, Dick Dork [he pronounces it “Dirk”], and I object to the animal in question being called the “accused” and I strenuously object to the case caption calling this animal a “person.” He is not a human being.
JUDGE WRENCH: I tend to agree, Mr. Dork. Mr. Shock, what do you say? If we consider your monkey to have the rights of a person, what’ll be next?
RORY: I’m not sure what you mean, Judge, about “what’ll be next?” And it seems to me that “person” in the legal realm doesn’t necessarily mean what we call a human. Corporations are “persons” under the law. I think Billy Ray is a whole lot more of a person than say Union Carbide or Dow Chemical or Ford Motor --- [interrupted by Wrench]
JUDGE: Let me tell you then. Next you’ll be asking me to declare dogs and cats people. You could probably find yourself even more people that’d support that one than this monkey that killed a respected citizen. Killed a PERSON. Next it’ll be cows. Then lab rats. I know you know something about that now, don’t you, Mr. Shock? Open the floodgates to all sorts of frivolous litigation, that’s what you’re asking me to do here. I’m not gonna step onto a slippery slope here.
RORY THINKS TO HIMSELF: What is it with judges and bureaucrats and floodgates. I wonder how many of them have even seen a damn floodgate. How many could describe what one looks like? Usually, in their minds it’s prisoners, or people on welfare, or people accused of crime that are building up behind the dam, hoping to come throuth the ‘floodgates”. The downtrodden as excess water. But floods do a lot of property damage. You can’t even get insurance against floods most of the time. They never seem to fear floods of prosecutions for petty drug offenses. That’s because the human water that flows as a result of such prosecutions is channeled into reservoirs and backwaters known as prisons where it gathers never to be seen again by Judges such as Wrench.
RORY: Judge, I have two things to say that come to mind right away: The case before you today only involves a chimpanzee. You need, indeed MUST, only concern yourself with this specific case. There are many reasons why the case of a chimp is more compelling than say the case of a mouse. Genetic similarity for one thing. Secondly, I am not familiar with any case that establishes a rule of law that says if the court fears opening the floodgates then doing what is otherwise right should not be done. Nor is there any statute to that effect. Nor any case law that I know of. Floodgates, slippery slopes, level playing fields, these cliches are all distractors. None of them is a rule of law
JUDGE: That is an arrogant stance Mr. Shock. Are you trying to dictate the Court’s vocabulary?

[There was a pause and a look to the side by Wrench as he perhaps remembered arguments I’d had in front of the Judge in the Courtroom next door about my vocabulary in a human death penalty case. The memory must have been richocheting around his brain, fragmenting when it struck the tangled bundles and dense plaques of Alzheimer’s nobody yet knew he had within his neurons.]

RORY: No, your honor, I’m just doing my best to make the court recognize what the law is.
JUDGE: Now, that IS arrogant. You come into my courtroom trying to tell me what the law is and I read your papers, you don’t have a single case to cite to me where a chimpanzee has been determined to be roughly the equivalent to a person let alone to be entitled to a jury, as you demand. And how would you get a jury of peers?
RORY: In many ways it’s a case of first impression. As a result, no case on point. But cases of first impression need to be heard too. Regarding your question about a jury of peers, Judge, we all know that that term is largely myth anyway. For example, a so-called retarded person does not get a jury of retarded persons -- and incidentally, Billy Ray is higher functioning that many retarded humans in many ways. A schizophrenic does not get a jury of schizophrenics. A billionaire does not get a jury of billionaires [or ever get tried I think to myself].
JUDGE: That’s more than enough. Now, I will hear arguments why this violent killer monkey should not be put down like a mad dog before sunset this very day.
RORY: Your Honor, I respectfully request that you refer to my client Billy Ray by her name, as “Mr. Shock’s client,” as “the accused,” as “the petitioner,” or if she must be referred to by some generic species-related reference, as an “ape,” or even better yet, as what she is in human terms: a chimpanzee. She is an ape, just as a bonobo is an ape, a human is an ape, an Orangutan is an ape, a Gorilla is an ape, and you and I are apes. A chimpanzee is no more a monkey than is Mr. Dork or myself.
[rory confesses that he knew the comparisons between apes, monkeys and the humans present in the courtroom would chap his honor’s big white wrinkled pentecostal ass bigtime. But I figured he couldn’t really come down on me because I’d thrown myself in. Anyway rory’s plan was to piss him off so badly that he’d “get recused” as they say].
JUDGE: Let’s get on with this Mr. Shock.
RORY: I am requesting a stay of proceedings of 60 days in order to investigate the factual background, your Honor. I need to investigate the character and background of Billy Ray, in essence. The relationship between Billy Ray and Mr. Stokes. Her behavioral history. The events leading up to the death. Whether there is a case for self-defense. Whether there are mitigating circumstances. There is no more reason to presume Billy Ray guilty in this case than to presume the defendant down the hall guilty in the misdemeanor trespass case being tried there. I need the time to contact and retain experts on the key issue of whether Billy Ray is a person. A person is entitled to a jury trial. To the presumption of innocence. To make those who wish to kill her bear the burden of proof. To present evidence. To testify. Mr. Dork does want to killy Billy Ray.
DORK: I object. I don’t want to kill Billy Ray. I want the zoo to euthanize the animal. Your Honor, this is completely absurd. This is madness. Mr. Shock is in this courtroom talking about a chimp testifying and having a jury trial.
RORY: Look, your Honor, I’m just asking for a chance to fully present what needs to be presented. For a moment, and I’m not conceding Billy Ray’s rights to be treated as a person in making this argument, for a moment, think of her as someone’s dog before the statute on dog bites was passed. Every dog got one bite. No liability on the part of the dog’s owner. No mandatory death for the dog. Well, back to a point made by his Honor earlier. There’s no law here, no statute on chimps. As a result, a chimp should be entitled to “one bite.” One violent action should not result in mandatory death. But even more importantly, look at the dog bite statute itself. It makes an exception if the dog was being teased, tormented or abused when it bit. I have reason to believe that Billy Ray was indeed abused.
DORK: I object your Honor, I can’t imagine how he can make that claim. That chimp was well-fed. It always looked happy in the commercials, always a smile on its face. It lived at home with Mr. Stokes. And we’re not talkin’ about a bite. We’re talking about a brutal murder. [rory thinkz: so many humans suck at reading faces. “Civilized” humans have to study books on body language. ]

RORY: Mr. Dork now appears to be conceding that Billy Ray is indeed a person. He just referred to the accusation against her as “murder.” Only a person can murder another person. At least in this century. And your Honor, here’s a perfect example of why we need time and some expert evidence. Mr. Dork says Billy Ray looked happy. He is incorrect. He does not know what a happy chimp looks like. He is interpreting grimaces of stress, of submission, of fear even, as happy smiles. If she were looking scared during the commercials, perhaps she had reason to be scared. If nothing else, I ask the court to give us time and the power to investigate what she had to be scared of. I submit that in all likelihood, Mr. Stokes was brutalizing Billy Ray. Judge, let me add, that there is nothing to lose by delaying. The zoo has no problem with keeping Billy Ray there. Attendance is up with the publicity around her case. Donors are standing in line to pay any costs of her incarceration. Mr. Stokes is already dead. She has no motivation to kill anyone else. Nobody at the zoo is going to treat her in an abusive way. Therefore no reason to kill again. She is a prisoner, a capitve. Secure as any death row inmate in any prison anywhere.
DORK: I object! Mr. Stokes is dead. There is no reason to cast unfounded aspersions on a dead citizen. Mr. Stokes was a respected man. A Rotarian. An active member of his church. A man with no record of violence or misconduct.
[rory sez: turns out the church thing didn’t carry weight with Judge Wrench, seeing as how Stokes was Catholic and non-Catholic fundy jesus freakers think the Catholics are frickin’ idol worshippers] Well, your Honor, we want to contact experts of our own if we aren’t going to be allowed to put this animal down right away. I concede that the zoo has said it has no problem keeping the monkey. This is almost a theological question more than a legal question before the court. [right on rory thinks ... play that ecclesiastical court card mofo ... that’ll make the judge wanna keep this case.] But in the meantime, I acknowledge that there is little burden to the State in maintaining this beast as a captive for a little bit longer. [rory figured it might work out this way. Dork wanted to appear strongly in favor of execution to please his bible-thumpin’-anti-animal-rights-voters-without knowing-jack-shit-about-what-they-mean-voting-base while getting more pubilicity than ever. It was a frickin’ election year for Dork. This alone might buy us time rory thought to himself.]
Judge, for one thing we are thinking of contacting Mr. DeWaal, mentioned by Mr. Shock in his filings with the court. Let me read you a little quote from Mr. Shock’s DeWaal:
‘"The animal rights movement's outrageous parallel with the abolition of slavery - apart from being insulting - is morally flawed," de Waal wrote in the New York Times in 1999. "Slaves can and should become full members of society, animals cannot and will not." Six years on, he says, he has nothing to add to that.’
Judge, having a trial, a right to have one’s life protected by judicial system is only something that belongs to full members of society. To people. If they had a right to judicial protection, don’t you think they would have developed their own courts, your Honor? They don’t have courts, they don’t have churches, they don’t have mass media, they don’t apply cosmetics, or read the Bible. Judge, they are not people. That being said, the prosecution has no objection to a continuance of this case and will sign off on an order for a continuance if Mr. Shock will prepare one for the Court’s approval [Dork said as he looked about the courtroom and saw the front row filled with reporters. Fuckin’ A rory thinkz, maybe the Judge will be gettin’ off on the publicity as well.]
JUDGE: I am inclined to think that a continuance is in order then. Although the Court has serious doubts about what if anything Mr. Shock can present that will suggest that this murdering monkey should not be put down like mad dog. Mr. Dork’s points being well taken. I mean, I have not seen any monkeys sitting in my church lately. Isn’t belief in God, the ability to take the oath, or the affirmation, at least in the case of atheists, whom this country being a free democratic god-founded nation, is merciful toward, a prerequisite to having rights in Court? Adjourned.
[rory thinks: ‘yeah, right judge, that’s why you ruled against pulling the plug on that brain dead guy a couple years back, ‘cause he had no rights in court. Dude didn’t know an oath from the catheter in his dong of which he was fortunately completely unaware. I don’t think his frickin’ “IQ” was anywhere near Billy Ray’s you stupid fucker.’ Then rory heads out and has a memory flash. Memory flashes are frickin’ incredible. A whole scene, images, dialogue, the point of the scene itsself, all bursting across the cranial sky in an instant like the Phoenix and Birds. To see what phoenix and birds looks like in the real sky go to:

nova fireworks gallery

Rory’s memory flash was from another courtroom on another day. It was prompted by the fleeting and silly thought: “What separates humans from ‘the animals’ is that humans shave their balls." Sorry ladies, I know plenty of you do plenty of shaving, indeed pioneered the non-facial shaving thing in North America, but it was the shaving the balls thought that popped into Rory’s male head, okay? Okay, and it should be modified further to “some” humans, but it was the beginning of a memory flash so the qualification was completely unnecessary.

The case which was the source of the memory flash involved a guy, Danny Dean Priest, who was accused of a heinous rape and murder, or as Mr. Dork liked to pronounce it “heeni-us.” One piece of evidence the government thought they had against Priest was that he had shaved his balls. Their theory was that he had shorn the sac to avoid leaving telltale hairs that could convict him. Course, the head, the belly, the pits, and the rest of the body, drop plenty of hairs all the time, so why, short of imbecility, which is always a distinct possibility any time a crime is committed, why would someone just shave their balls to avoid leaving evidence? Anyhoo, shortly after the dude’s arrest, detectives had photographed his balls and run their fingers over them, presumably doing a digital stubble evaluation of some sort. And a snippet of trial transcript from the Danny Dean Priest case flashed back through my head;
PROSECUTOR: Now, Agent Locknut, Mr. Shock asked you about palpitating [sic]the scrotum of the defendant. [Still cracks me up that he kept saying “palpitating,” when palpating was the word. Palpitating is what his frickin’ heart was doin’.] You recall that?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Yes, I do.
PROSECUTOR: And again, as you said, you tried to do this in the least intrusive manner. Could you, uh, sort of demonstrate for the Court , uh, em, uh, um, how you palpitated that particular part of the anatomy?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Well, it was like this. [He motioned like one gently stroking a cat’s gullet. Red blood rapidly crept over his collar, up his neck and across his bald pate. He brought to mind a huge rectal thermometer held in a candle flame]. I did it to see how clean shaven the area was. I thought if he was real clean shaven then he might have shaved recently before the incident.
PROSECUTOR: And what would the significance of that have been?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Well, if he shaved before, then he was probably shaving himself so that he would not leave evidence. (I would have objected to this as “speculation” had it been before a jury or a different judge, most likely.)
DANNY DEAN PRIEST: He pulls my sleeve, passes wind most foul, and “whispers” in a horse voice even the judge can hear. “Aren’t you gonna object? I been shavin’ my balls for years, ever since I got outta the service. Got nothin’ to do with no evidence. Just simple pleasure. I swear to God, Mr. Shock. That ain’t right what he said. Son of a bitch. That ain’t true. Ain’t he supposed to be under the oath?”
RORY TO DANNY DEAN: “Yeah, but his guy has got “perjury” inside a heart with an arrow through it tattooed across his ass. I believe you. Plenty of people like to shave their balls. Guess he never tried it. Ball shaving was something about which I hadn’t really thought much at that time, despite my matter-fact-seeming-to-know-all-about-it demeanor meant to reassure Danny Dean.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He managed a knowing smile before apparently disassociating for awhile. At least I surmise that he disassociated, because he was staring up at the corner of the courtroom while shaking his head slightly and picking his nose. I was pretty sure it was not an etiquette thing. More a disassociation thing. And I had learned long before that day that while the client may not have a “legal point” about which he becomes upset, little discrepancies can bother the fuck out of him. It must be disturbing to have the so-called roceedings turn into a shoddy work of fiction created by law enforcement agents and prosecutors when you know the truth. Oh, and by the way, this guy had confessed to the crime. Yet he later told me that he might want to take the stand just to set the record straight about why he had shaved his balls! This and other things let me to believe that the dude might be less than “competent,” but legal competency is often determined by correspondence school prison shrinks from Malaysia who harbor odd beliefs about things such as writing sponataneously appearing on walls, perhaps written by netherworld spirits, which some of us might consider graffiti.

All of this blappity! through Rory’s mind as he walked out of the courtroom. And as I walked out, that was the first time I saw Sage, as I now call him. Earnest Sagegrouse.

Ten Reasons Why the Pope Sucks Pretty Much as Badly as George W. Frickin' Bush

2006-03-29T06:51:00.000-08:00

Because of a voting deadlock during the last meeting of BEPWAC, the Pope & W Share the first annual roryshock Spreading-Suffering-While-Unleashing-Sanctimonious-Fantastical-Blather-of-Justification-from-Oral-Sphincter-Award.

But this post is really about the Pope. Before rory gets to the list of reasons why the Pope sux, here's a little warmup for the the raucous synapse crowd in your brain bistros me friends. A little opening entertainment just to get you into the proper Pope respectin' mood:

rory thinkz the pope sucks because:

1. His official policies stubbornly deny women equal rights and treat them as inferior, second-class citizens, despite there being no rational reason in the 21st century for women being denied any rights, jobs, or status attainable by men.

2. He convinces gullible people worldwide to add to the disastrous problem of world overpopulation, teaching them that the only reason they may engage in sex is to “procreate.”

3. He heads an organization that is against abortion for any reason.

4. He condemns sterilization as equally reprehensible as abortion, again despite the world population disaster.

5. He is against distribution of condoms as a palliative in the African Aids Crisis.

6. He is against birth control of any kind whatsoever and condemns “any action which either before, at the moment of, or after sexual intercourse, is specifically intended to prevent procreation.”

7. He does everything in his power to forbid adoption of suffering children by well-adjusted, financially capable gay parents.

8. He pushes a homophobic, anti-gay agenda that hurts many people.

9. He directed catholics to vote for George W. Bush in the 2004 elections and helped to ensure the continuation of the clusterfuck in Iraq because he felt that John Kerry was not godly on the issue of abortion.

10. His insane medieval, fantasy-based policies are listened to by billions of people and are instrumental in perpetuating unnecessary suffering on a mind-blowing scale.

rory sez: the chicken was not wasted. it was consumed by raccoons and bacteria, returning to the earth in other forms. rory officially disapproves of using dead animals for entertainment purposes. the chicken probably lived a miserable life in a cage with many other chickens. it probably had its beak cut off by a hot wire. it truly suffered like Jesus before its death. crucifixion is in some ways fitting. nevertheless, remember, rory is merely documenting the secret acts of w, as more fully explained in the previous post about the Crawford Texas killing fields. for those who think crucifying a store-bought, partial fowl carcass is disrespectful, well, what do you expect from w bush? voice in head: "rory? are you confusing fiction and reality here in this paragraph." rory replyz: fuckin' A, but only a little.

Story in the Snow

2006-03-27T16:22:00.000-08:00

In a pine grove a vole tunneled through the snow last January. In some places a barely discernable ridge raised the snow’s surface like a scar. In places behind the tiny rodent, the arch of the tunnel roof collapsed leaving a diminutive trench. Tunnel and trench drawn by rodent back beneath the snow marked the trail. Moving end marked moving life. Even a human eye could have seen life traveling under cold white snow carpeting soft layers of pine needles. Suddenly talons pierced the soft rodent skin. Vole became sustenance for bird. Snow and vegetation litter became a talon-drawn picture of momentary chaos. A quarter thimble of crimson blood spotted the white. And the primary wing feathers, the flight fingers, recorded the moments when the great bird of prey, the Great Horned Owl, touched the bottom of the sky. Within a day the air warmed. Snow evaporated, memories of wings lifting, every molecule ascending, feathers in the wind.

Vaccine for Imaginary Bird Flu Pandemic to be ready by 2009 -- Fear Levels Rise Despite Lack of Danger

2006-03-26T14:28:00.000-08:00

Well the fear mongers, bullshit artists, and science-ignoring bastards are afoot. Secretary of we-don't-need-no-education Margaret (I’m from Texas directed W’s 1994 gubernatorial campaign and ‘authored’ the no child left behind law) Spellings is speechifying school officials with visions of schools being closed, becoming quarantine internment camps, and transforming into “make-shift hospitals” or “vaccine sites.”
Mike Leavitt, Health and Human Services Secretary, is blathering about a fantasy scenario in which 92,000,000 people in N.A. come down with H5N1, despite this being impossible. Snortin’ Gale Norton is takin’ questions at the Whitehouse website. Homeland Security is talking about bird flu preparedness. And meanwhile, the scientific evidence shows that the H5N1 virus is next to impossible to transmit from human to human, a prerequisite for a human pandemic. rory asks: Has the whole fuckin’ world gone mad? Approximately .3 out of the more than 6 billion people on the spinnin’ rock died in the last 24 hours from bird flu. Recall from Rory’s recent post that well over 5000 died worldwide from diarrheal disease in the last 24. More people are dying from fucking autoerotic asphyxiation than from bird flu. But it's whole lot easier to prepare for the impossible pandemic than to get ready for some shit that's really gonna go down. I mean, it's pretty hard to fuckin' appear to fail, innit? Unless a lotta people happened to notice the waste of billions of bux on useless shit, like vaccines for non-existent pandemics that won't be ready until even the fantasy scenarios have played out. But people noticin' -- that ain't likely. More likely sales of bird flu preparedness kits are gonna remain strong. rory sez: I dunno bout you, but I'm just as fuckin' ready as I ever wanna be for the old H5N1. Bring it on mofo!

Research Shows Avian Flu Pandemic a Fantasy

Vaccine for Imaginary Pandemic Might be Ready by 2009

Mike Leavitt's Delusional Scenario

Spellings Spreads Fantasy Fear

Time for a cup of tea with chairperson of the BEPWAC

2006-03-25T15:56:00.000-08:00

rory's gonna enjoy a little tea and sympathy. ain't she pretty?

Bush administration's use of laughable progaganda placards produced by private contractor increases as ratings drop

2006-03-25T09:15:00.000-08:00

Presidential propaganda graphics have been outsourced at a cost of 24 million dollars to a fledging marketing firm run by Harold Hose IV, a recent Yale graduate, whose father Harry Hose III, has been a major Rebuplican party contributor for several decades. Here are a few examples of some recent Hose jobs:

rory sez: don't forget to click to enlarge for a better look at the shitty placard:

Cheney's scrotum torn during rough love session with hooker. President asks nation to pray for speedy recovery.

2006-03-25T06:59:00.000-08:00

Can it be a mere cosmic coincidence, or is there really some god-like force of justice after all? There's been heavy coverage of Dick Cheney's list of must-haves when he checks into a hotel. Granted, it's an expurgated version. For example, no mention that he likes an individually wrapped, soothing hemorrhoidal wipe of a specified brand laid out on the pillow precisely 7 centimeters from the mint. The list leaked was intended for public consumption. Also note the absence of alcoholic beverages. The dude likes his bar very well-stocked. No mention of his demand for multiple premium porn channels. Not a whisper about the sixpack of disposable enemas that he likes. And for some reason, "hooker," got left off the list of his usual travel amenities. rory sez: gonna be a long time now before dick seeks those services again.

Dorito Lovincheeks, the Madam, said, "Well, maybe it wasn't the same Harry Whittington, how would I know, but the guy who paid us for this girl said his name was Harry Whittington, and he said the man wanted a big mamma, and he'd pay extra if she was really, really rough, with good strong teeth, and he kept saying 'You know what I mean, when I say big strong teeth?'"

Rear Admiral Charles "Chilito" Numnutz, NSA shadow director, advised that the videos of the session have been seized by the NSA and are being held in a secure facility. Numnutz said he has reviewed the tapes himself and says the vice president did nothing to provoke the attack.

Harry Whittington denies anything to do with this. "I repeat, it was my fault that Dick shot me. If anything, being peppered in the face strengthened the bond between myself and Dick. Revenge is the furthest thing from my mind. I'm sure it was just a mixup with the whore. Dick usually gets a real gentle gal, you know. Got that pacemaker and all."

Prezdent Bush said: "I ask the nation to join me in prayer for the Vice President's speedy recovery. Dick Cheney has my full and unwavering support. I know this is a difficult time for him and for his family. We just thank the good lord this didn't turn out worse. I have asked the press not to cover this. Because with freedom comes responsiblity, the responsibility to say nothing that I don't want them to say."

The call girl, whose name is being withheld for national security reasons, is in custody at an undisclosed location, without charges, being held as an "enemy combatant." Numnutz says: "We're fairly comfortable in saying that tearing the vice president's scrotum off with your teeth is an act of terrorism, a violent destructive, senseless act meant to influence governmental policy."

Donald Rumsfeld lambasted bloggers for blogging about this incident. "The real problem here is not the vice president seeking the services of what turned out, in an unforeseen, foreseeably, unforeseeable way to be a very violent, senselessly violent woman, the real problem is the perception of the vice president being created by bloggers. "

rory sez:

Because sometimes that's all there is to say.

rory calls for immediate complete withdrawal from U.S. highways: death toll unacceptible in a free nation allegedly at peace with itself

2006-03-23T19:04:00.000-08:00

Well leaving that question aside for the moment [and please no smartass comments about rory's drawing], how ‘bout some frickin’ stats people? Every day 120 people die violent deaths on the highways of the United States. Our vehicles are roadway bombs, improvised killing devices, weapons o' mass deestruction. The casualty rates are staggering. 47,200 died violently in 2005.
That’s close to the killed in action total for U.S. troops over the entire course of the Viet Nam war. Only takes about 20 days for the death toll to reach the total number of U.S. service people killed in Iraq over the whole course of that clusterfuck so far. Disabling injuries in 2005? 2.45 million of ‘em. The cost in dollars of the deaths, injuries and property damage? $245 billion dollars for one year. Where’s the fucking press conference about the war on highway death? The car makers who foist roll-over prone-small-car-killin-roof-collapsin’-global-warming-petroleum-over-consumption-units and the oilagarchy obviously care less than a frickin’ vole turd about the carnage on the roads. It would be disruptive of the economy, of the frickin' amerikun way of life, of countless satellite industries feeding off the human road kill like flesh-eating bacteria. And why oh why, rory frickin’ wants to know are some deaths big news and other deaths no news? Wait a minute. Certain fantasy deaths are bigger news than certain real deaths. There’s gonna be yet another fucking press conference about Bird Flu preparations. How many Americans have died of bird flu? Zipfrickin'ola. Snortin’ Gale Norton suckraterror of the interior is gonna edumocate the pube-lick about avian flu. You can go to the White House site right now and submit a question to this oilwhore who has strapped on the biggest smoke spewin' environment fuckin' schvantz of any of her ilk, i.e. suckruterrys of the inferior. Here’s my question. It's a relatively simple one: “What the fuck?” Scientists quoted in today’s New York Times say that the fuckin’ avian flu probably ain’t gonna even be a pandemic anyway. rory sez fuck this avian flu bullshit.
When are we gonna start preparing for the human roadkill pandemic? Oh and by the frickin' way, how many deaths were there last year as a result of terrorist attacks in the U.S? That’s fricking right: 47,200 fewer than deaths by motor vehicle. Rory's gonna say it again. Dead is dead. Dead is dead whether you are broken, squashed like a bug under a boot, incinerated while trapped, or otherwise wasted in a vehicle on a U.S. highway or whether you are shot by an insurgent, terrorist, or U.S. Postal Service worker. And the juxtaposition of Homeland Security blathering about, while not really preparing for, avian flu, while 120 people are violently removed from earthly existence on the highway and hundreds more disabled everyday while nothing is said would actually be completely frickin’ comical if so-called-innocent-people [will someone please define "innocent" for me] weren’t dying and suffering so much. Funny how the prezdent keeps talking about how it’s his job to protect us. Only from the truth. Obviously the mass media is complicit in this one, as well. If the death and injury tolls were posted every day like they are for Iraq, if pictures of the highway carnage were printed, broadcast and posted like war pictures, public support for driving would evaporate. And we would immediately withdraw from the highways. At this point, there is no other rational solution. We must put an end to this senseless carnage. We must stop driving and get the fuck off the highways.

some facts and figures on motor vehicle carnage
some facts and figures on war casualties

As winter passes rory reflects on how frickin' lucky he was to have a frozen toilet seat to sit on while 5760 kids die daily from lack of clean water

2006-03-22T10:18:00.000-08:00

This is a scene faced by rory at his winter job site sometimes. When the cold winter wind blows hard the snow infiltrates the shitter vents and frosts the seat that frames the holding tank like some kinda skinny ass broken powdered donut [yeah rory likes to spell donut the redneck way]. rory sez: compadres that frozen seat is pretty plush compared to crappin' out in the woods with a crazy noreaster blowin' snow up one's ass and cruelly chappin' ones balls. And rory really can't complain when he thinks of all the millions of humans whose buttcheeks never feel the luxury of any kind of latrine seat. But, turning serious for a moment, the luxury part isn't really the significant thing here anyway is it, rory?

Hello! More people are dying from diahhrea out there than from lack of hallibushencheney-style oligarmocracy! And one helluvawholelotmorefolks are dyin' from diarrhea than from terrorism.
But there ain't no war on diahhrea. 'cause what that really means is help for poor African people without resources to readily steal and convert into cash. Hey first fuckWad, you think it feels better to expire from diahhrea than it did for the average Iraqi to live under Saddam? But you lyin' sack of runny shit, you really were never about alleviating suffering were you? Most Iraqis had decent water and a shitter before you trashed the place.

"A child dies every 15 seconds from diarrhoeal disease,
attributable mainly to poor water supply and/or sanitation.
443 million schooldays are lost each year from diarrhoeal disease.
Failure to meet the [minimum requirements] on water and sanitation
is costing poor countries US$84bn per year.
36% of Africans have access to an adequate toilet.
19% of women in rural Africa spend more than one hour on every trip to fetch water.
Investments in sanitation can bring a 14-fold return."
quote is from the bbc

Meanwhile the shitsackinchief is more concerned about sending abstinence spouting preachers to Africa than helping with this problem. How 'bout this body count: 5760 children died in the last 24 hours from diarrhea. 3.1 million people die each year from the easily preventible problem of bad sanitation. It's a frickin' holocaust. The Iraqi people need our help more than these kids? Meanwhile, Homeland Security has a frickin' division of Bird Flu? Maybe a hundred people have died from avian flu. Ah, but it's like that West Nile Scam bullshit. It can strike the prick cheneys of the world. It doesn't just take poor African kids. So even if the odds of getting killed by it are totally frickin' slimtonone, the mere possibility, coupled with megapharmas ability to profiteer off of pandemic disaster fantasy mongering means that many more billions than it would take to solve the world's sanitation problem will go down the giant golden dollar shitter, and get flushed into the corporate holding ponds, where the greedy bastards of the world will skim the profits off the surface as if they were golden turds miraculously floating in their backyard pools. The fucked up thing about this: it wouldn't take much jack to solve the problem. But the whitewhores don't want to help. Maybe the abstinence preachin' fuckers figure who the fuck needs birth control when you take out 5760 kids a day with a miserable, easily preventible death?

As the bbc quote notes a little money goes a long frickin' way. Check out:

a glimmer of hope

See also
20 billion euros is all it would take.

rory convenes meeting of the faith based Brain Explosion Prevention Week Advisory Committee (BEPWAC)

2006-03-22T04:48:00.000-08:00

Rory, generally a go-it-alone kinda guy in so-called creative endeavors, for better or worse, usually the latter no doubt, will now be looking to this group of trusted pundits, advisors, streghas, shamans, seers, scholars, and humorists for guidance. With visibility in the current shitstorm of human unreality-based-reality down to 1 to 2 meters and force-5 excremental winds howling out the flappin'-lipped open oral sphincter of the whitewhores, rory has dragged himself into BEPWAC's leanto of learning to listen to this group of wise people and clean the crap off his compass. Ah, rory feels better already!

The Most Flatulent President In History Photo Essay III -- Nero Fiddled, Bush Farted

2006-03-20T19:13:00.000-08:00

The sphincterous skidmark drawer printing Warhole-in-chief returns to roryshock and steps from behind the gas-billowed curtain for another set of stench-trench dispatches. Recall that Bush has been renowned for his flatulence since childhood, refining his seat thunder to a fine art while president of Delta house at Yale, and never tiring of getting a rise out of people by means of one of his remarkable crack blasts so often accompanied by his mindless giddy giggling. No function of state, no casualty report, no news of natural disaster, is too solemn to escape W's puerile fart humor.

rory asks himself: how the hell can you post this after your previous post? its kinda like a beckett "quote" I'm recalling from way back in my memory: "I'll go on. I can't go on. I'll go on." frickin' simple as that. And I kinda like the fiddling versus farting thing. Nero and Bush. Fiddling actually requires some talent. Farting, well, I guess it comes pretty naturally to W. I think the idea that he farts and laughs about it while his actions cause death and devastation around the little spinnin' rock we all cling too sums him up for rory, at the moment anyway.

a post in which rory stipulates that he gives not a flying fuck whether the war is civil or not

2006-03-19T15:57:00.000-08:00

The debate over whether there is a “civil war” in Iraq reminds me of the debate over whether the U.S. tortures people. And both aforefrickin'mentioned debates remind me of the debate over whether white phosphorus is a chemical weapon. I know I’m in a minority (so what else is new rory, you crazy fucker?), but rory sez: I don’t really give a shit. Dead is dead whether you are killed in a civil war or not. Broken and ruined is that same whether it resulted from "torture" or "intensive interrogation methods." Incineration by phosphorous feels the same whether you call it willie pete or w. bush.

“Clusterfuck” is a good catchall term and close enough for me. It is also flexible, like a frickin’ balloon. So when 40 or 50 people are blown up in markets, in vehicles, or sleepin’ in their beds, by an IED, a intelligent red white and blue munition, or an rpg, or when a family is machine gunned in a car by friendly fire or unfriendly fire, or a GI blows his brains out in fear and despair, or a screaming daddy carries his stump-legged bleeding babie ‘til he has no voice no strength left in his legs arms or heart, deaf from the blast concussion anyway, or when the body count is 10,000 or 20,000 or 100,000 or 180,000 and the wounded in all senses of that word already uncountable, I really don’t give a shit about the debate over whether there is a “civil war” going on or not. “Clusterfuck.” I think I’ll just stick with that one. And that is a weak word. But there is no word or set of words strong enough to describe this clusterfuck. Let "clusterfuck" stand for the indescribable. The bastards in the White House love it when the debate becomes about words. They can speechify and we can fret over whether the vocabulary of war is correct. The usage of death. Not too long ago, Condiloma Rice said we don’t “torture.” This goes back to the incipient stages of the clusterfuck, when the Wall Street Journal and the NYT and all the bastards in the government were talking tough and big about strenuous interrogation methods with the fantasy, nonexistent scenario posited of someone about to blow up thousands of civilians who can only be stopped if someone is tortured into revealing their coordinates so the terrorist can be taken out by a cruise missile. Well, they were all saying that making a person “uncomfortable” is not torture. Putting people in “stress positions” is not torture. Words whitehouse motherfuckers.

When you are shackled to a floor. When the room you are locked naked in never gets dark. When it is never quiet. When you are hungry, helpless and cold. When it never gets light. When you have water poured up your nose so your lizard brain shoots panic drowning signals through your entire being. When you are separated completely from your life your loves your world. When your tibia is shattered by a bat wielding army cook who had a bad day and wants to get it out of his system. When you are beaten with rifle butts. When you are shackled arms behind you naked to a bedframe while a huge dog snaps at your cock and balls.

When you were just a chicken farmer guilty of no crime worse than raising chickens and a bag was thrown over your head and you were beaten for refusing to confess.
When you are raped. When you are beaten nearly to death. When your balls are shocked with electricity through crushing clamps. When you are led around naked on a leash. When you are covered in your own fear shit. When you have been beaten so badly before death took you in its mercy that your legs are literally “pulp.” When your nose on your sandbagged head has been punched until it splits. When you have a broom handle or a light stick shoved up your ass. When you’ve been raped. Do you really give a flying fuck if you were “TORTURED?” according to the whitewhores definition?

On phosophorous, white phosphorous, tendril sending white hot chrysanthemum of death. When your skin melts off. When you are merely seared from head to toe down to the nerve endings screaming like a hundred thousand burning babies. When you are shiny with all the lymph in your body. When your leg crumbles away, black, no longer any more substantial than incinerated wonderbread. Do you really give a shit whether this was a chemical weapon or not? The cold killers in the whitehouses of washington want the argument to be about words. They can live with that debate. Such benign, clean, vacant fucking words. “Civil war.” Oxymoronic words. Overused words. Words argued inapplicable. “Torture.” “Chemical weapons.” Obscene debates over definitions of words. I say fuck them. rory concedes the war of words. “Fine, its not a ‘civil war.'” “No, of course we don’t do torture.” “White phosphorous is not a chemical weapon.” So fucking what?

Roryshock Throws Another Human/Animal Distinction on the Slagheap of History: Claim that Wild Animals Don't Act Debunked

2006-03-18T07:11:00.000-08:00

There are some who claim that the ability to ACT is what makes us human and distinguishes us from “the animals.” As an aside, rory is pretty frickin’ sick of people worried about distinguishing the naked ape from the rest of nature. What’s the frickin’ point of that? First it was “tool use.”
Oh, the animals don’t use tools. We, humans, however, use, and in many cases, are, tools. Jane Goodall and others laid the “tool use” horseshit to rest by observing chimps using sticks to procure food, by using hammer and anvil to break nuts, etc. We still hear plenty of this shit from people obsessed with separating us from “the animals” in keeping with the bible which is the authority that establishes we have “dominion” over "them" and are better than "them". Fuck that shit. The pseudoscientific bible-thumpers claim that animals don’t have “spirituality,” “altruistic behavior,” “ability to use language,” or “high intelligence in general.” rory sez: horseshit, holmes. rory sez: by these definitions, a feller who doesnt’ know his anus from his ankle, such as George W. Bush, is less human than, say, Kanzi, the human language learnin', tool fabricatin' Bonobo.

Those who make a living out of human-animal-distinction-ruminative-beard-pulling and-pontification (so far most of the yahoos I’ve found who are obsessed with this shit are indeed male neked apes) are becoming increasingly desparate to find new unassailable areas of distinction. That’s why they came up their latest claim: “Animals do not act.' One renowned zoologist, Dr. Bivin Tumblewad, said, “I mean there are no Bonobo Oliviers, now are there? No reptilian Ralph Richardsons. No pachyderm Pacinos. No whale Witherspoons. No canine Clooneys.” rory sez: I think you missed “no Turtle Tumblewads” doc, you frickin’ fuckwad.

But seriously, rory contacts Dr. Tumblewad and says, “hey doc,” and rory can hardly keep a straight face as he says “Tumblewad,” but that’s his frickin’ real name, okay, I got proof that there are reptilian Ralph Richardsons. I mean, the hognose snake, it does a death scene like nobody. Here, man, check out these pictures rory took:

I’m always impressed when I see this performance. I mean they flop over, they prolapse their cloacas, they emit musk, their jaw opens, their tongue dangles out. And it’s all an act! Talk about a frickin’ performance doc! Yeah, I know plenty of human actors can conjure up tears on demand. But name one Oscar winner who can prolapse the old cloaca and emit musk, then roll over, slither off, and do it again with feeling moments later, if the muse calls. Name me frickin’ one, man.”

Tumblewad was ready for this one. “Mr. Shock, I have studied animal behavior as a professional for my entire career. As a scientist, I cannot draw conclusions from mere anecdotal observations. Additonally, “playing dead” is hardly acting. Why by your logic, we’d have to include opossums. Dogs have been trained to “play dead” as well. This type of rote behavior is either “hard-wired” into the animal or trained into the animal by humans. And, I think even you know, humans don’t have cloacas."

rory sez: see what I frickin’ mean. You just can’t reason with these fuckers. And a by-the-way: the first three hognose snake pix are worth clickin' on to enlarge, in roryz humble opinion.

Christian Clowns Receive Whitehouse and Vatican Recognition Despite a Propensity to Make Really Frickin' Scary "Balloon Animals"

2006-03-16T18:39:00.000-08:00

The White House Office of Faith Based Big Dollar Cash Handouts has approved an $800,000 grant application from Kristian Klownz Korrectional Enterprises, Inc.

“This is a faith-based and privatization partnership at its finest,” said Conrad "Connie" Whackensuk, recently appointed by George W. Bush to be Director of the Whitehouse Office of Faith-based Boondoggling.
Rev. Verle Smegma’s brother, Sheriff Vermin Smegma, will "spearhead," as he puts it, abstinence-only educational programs in the Flatulence County Juvenile Detention Center, Flatulence Flats, Kansas. Sheriff Smegma is a part time Cristian Clown and a life member of the Kristian Klownz for Keericed and the Brotherhood of Sacred Gospel Clowns of the Holy Tabernacle. rory calls for a smoking gun investigation of this shit. This is the second Smegma to obtain one of these faith-based abstinence grants.

Upon learning of this latest Smegma grant, rory decided to do some cursory research into the world of Gospel clowning. What rory found is pretty frickin' disturbing. Christian clowning is bigger than rory would've believed, with not only the Whitehouse, but the Vatican involved, as well. The highest ranking Federal Christian clown, Whackensuk, also known as "Konnie the Kristian Klown,' a former SWAT officer, recently met with the Pope to discuss plans for International Blastula Day and Blastula Fest 2006. While Konnie's meeting with Pope was a high-security affair, the Pope saw to it that the following photo with a different clown was posted on the Vatican web site:

rory sez: Friends, some have asked to be warned when rory is about to display particularly disturbing material in this blog. Well, I'm warnin' you, the images that follow are not for the faint of heart. And those suffering from coulrophobia should exit this blog immediately.

Grace Chapel Evangelical Clown Ministry Page from whence the above came

Holy Frickin' Klownz!

After viewing the Gospel Clown balloon animal photos, perhaps it is reassuring to learn that some Christian Clown authorities contend that ""the clown is asexual.""

This picture of Stevie Weevie some Christian Clown scholars would argue seems to support this contention, although rory has to frickin' point out that he doesn't think "asexual" is exactly the same thing as "hermaphroditic" in appearance.

Asexual, balloon-pecker bendin' clowns do have rules to keep them in check. The world of Gospel clowning is governed not only by the Ten Commandments, but by the Commandments of Clowning. This commandment is particularly disturbing:

"I will remove my makeup and change into my street clothes as soon as possible following my appearance, so that I cannot be associated with any incident that may be detrimental to the good name of clowning. I will conduct myself as a gentleman/lady at all times."

rory sez: Here we go with that hermaphrodite shit again. A Christian clown has to conduct himself as a "gentleman/lady." Again, they are confused about "asexuality." Hell, they're just confused about sexuality in its entirety, as their perseveration on construction of balloon genetalia demonstrates. Furthermore, most of them are avowed anti-homosexuals. And you know what else rory finds pretty damn disturbing? How many frickin' professions outside of Christian clowning do you know of where those in the know assume there are going to be incidents that that may be "detrimental to the good name of the profession" immediately after work and that because the likelihood of "incidents" is high, all signs of one's profession must be hidden immediately upon completion of work. What sorts of incidents are Christian clowns likely to be involved in that would bring shame on the profession of clowning rory wonderz? I suppose that making some of those "balloon animals" outside the fence of the local middle school when not actually engaged in an official gospel clown performance could constitute an "incident" under certain circumstances.

And of course, alcohol abuse is apparently rampant among Christian clowns. Hence the following commandment requiring them to pledge to at least lay off the sauce at critical times:

"I will neither drink alcoholic beverages nor smoke while in makeup or clown costume. Also, I will not drink alcoholic beverages prior to any clown appearances."

rory has heard rumors about gospel clowns on meth. The young 'uns sure as shit don't want to be around when THEY start making balloon animals.

The Clown Commandments!

And yes kind readers, Blastulafest is for real. This will actually be its second year.

Finally a search for muslim clowns revealed nothing but images of muslim attacks on perhaps the ultimate Christian Clown Icon: Ronald McDonald. rory predictz: expect to see more attacks on Christian Clown Effigies in the future as evangelical clowning spreads around the globe. The backlash is predictible, especially with repeated references in the Whitehouse to Gospel Clown Crusades. Given this, I think we can expect to see Ronald burning in the streets on a regular basis. Why Ronald? Because he is there: A sort of ready-made Gospel Clown effigy.

and commentary on the Ronald Burning

Already there is talk in Washington of a clown-burning amendment and about construction of Federally funded Gospel Klown Akademies in New Orleans and Iraq.

Postscript
Rory wonders whether this dude was wearing clown makeup or garb when he did it:
Rev. William Peckerwood [name altered], of Springfield, Illinois, known nationally for his work with the poor and homeless through Contact Ministries, pleaded guilty to two felony counts of aggravated criminal sexual abuse and a reduced misdemeanor charge of sexually abusing a 14 year old boy. The victim, a ward of the state, reported the abuse on January 1, 1986. He was then "wired" to secretly tape-record conversations with the minister, which led to Peckerwood's arrest on January 5. Peckerwood also founded the HOLY FOOLS CLOWN MINISTRY, which has chapters all over the nation. Although Peckerwood could have received three to seven years imprisonment for the felony charges, he was given only four years' probation, and was sentenced to a year in jail for the misdemeanor charge. (Sources: [Alton, Illinois] Telegraph, 12/3/87; Peoria Journal Star, 1/7/88)

What the fuck is it with preachers and child molestation?

rory wonderz: should this guy be allowed to make balloon animals for kids?

Disclaimer: rory in no way is suggesting that any of those depicted in this satirical post which parodies gospel clowning are themselves actually kiddie diddlers, child molesters, perverts or crooks in general, with the exception of the clown on fire in the bottom picture. In the case of the ballon benders, rory is merely stating an opinion that what is depicted is a likeness of a pecker. This in no way suggests that the intent of the clowns in the pictures was to actually make a balloon pecker. It's just that what they made does look like a balloon pecker to rory. Know what I mean?

Time for Something Lovely: A Fawn Rory Came Upon

2006-03-15T17:03:00.000-08:00

During the last season of wild animal birth, I came upon this fawn, lying flat and motionless beneath a log, with his forest-floor dapple camouflage not hiding him from my human eyes. Too young to flee, still relatively scentless, he was a vulnerable creature, in my eyes more beautiful than any blastula.

roryshock breaking brainspasm: Donald Rumsfeld spanks his monkey to this photo!!!

2006-03-15T07:26:00.000-08:00

According to Fly-On-the-Wall, in a locked drawer of Rumsfeld's DOD desk, one can find these things in proximity: an unlabeled vial with several viagra tablets, a jar of vaseline, a scrap of paper with this link scribbled on it (Rummy Spankin' Link), and a wrinkled printout of the above picture. Mere circumstantial evidence say you? rory sez: ain't nothin' wrong with circumstantial evidence. You really wouldn't want an eyewitness to this one, now, would ya?

Bet the Italian that made these mind-bending photos had no idea they would be spank aids to the Secretary of Defense!

Actually, rory feels a little dirty after this post. It was only a grim sense of duty to the truth that compelled rory to put this one up. May the good Lord and Rev. Verle Smegma have mercy on his soul.

Nostrildangamouse Predicted the current WHITE MATTER CONFLUENCE. Which tends to explain the clusterfuck known as the "Bush Administration."

2006-03-13T16:39:00.000-08:00

Nostrildangamouse wrote these words over 400 years ago:

new millenium in the House of white lies
white heads will meet
unholy white in the skull
scorching earth with white flame

Rory’s expert source on Nostrildangamouse, Earnest Sagegrouse, says this quatrain foretells the White Matter Confluence. And the last line predicts the use of white phosphorous in Iraq. White phosphorous, scorching earth and skin, indeed has been used in Iraq.

But what of this White Matter Confluence? Sage, as he likes to be called, says it didn’t make sense to him until the recent release of a study at USC by Adrian Raine and colleagues on pathological liars, which found that they have more white matter and less gray matter in their prefrontal cortex than do non-truthdeviants. And that means:

Some of us have always suspected a higher number of pathologically dishonest people populate the hallowed halls of government than, say, the corner market or the nearest bordello. According to Sage and others this is always true, particularly when it comes to conservatives and even more so when it comes to conservatives who vocally tout their religiosity. Never before have we had so many conservative-religion-toutin’-and-spoutin’-sphincterous-senators, crap-breathin’ congresspeople, executive branch divinely-inspired-douche-bags, and judicial-jerkoff-jesus freaks bringing so much white matter and so little gray matter to bear on so many issues affecting so many lives ... simultaneously. The result: A worldwide clusterfuck. No, it ain’t Armageddon. But it is the WHITE MATTER CONFLUENCE!

usc study

The Most Flatulent President In History Photo Essay II: More Scenes of Bush's Puerile Humor From the First Stench-Trench

2006-03-12T18:57:00.000-08:00

Rory Declares National Brain Rape Awareness Day

2006-03-11T14:08:00.000-08:00

Rory is sick and tired of all the brain rape out there. Within the last 24 hours 100% of all sentient Americans have had an act of Brain Rape or Attempted Brain Rape perpetrated against them. When you stop and think about all the violent, nonconsensual assaults on cranial equipment, it makes your frickin' head hurt!

The average American is cranially assaulted with complete bullshit by the government, the mass media, and religious officials over 14 million times by the age of 23.

The profile of the average brain rapist is: Republican, Conservative, Angry, Affluent, White, Male, and enamored of shooting small captive-raised birds.

There are significant numbers of serial brain rapists working at high levels of government, in the mass media, and in fundamentalist churches.

Brain rape is not a crime of knowledge or education. It is about power.

Brain rapists are not secure in their own brains. Most often they are victims of childhood brain rape.

Donald Rumsfeld is putting together a battle plan for what he secretly calls, according to Fly-On-the-Wall, "Operation Brain Rape." He is fond of saying:
"The mind of the American Public is nothing more than a nameless, vast, greased asshole, waiting to be subjugated by the big lie, roughly paraphrasing something Goebbels, or was it William Burroughs, once said."

Carl Rove is said to only experience twinges of something similar to sexual arousal when in cranial flagrante delicto.

Prezdent Bush spoke at the National Newspaper Associations Government Affairs Conference on March 10, rattling off the same old claptrap ad nauseum. Here are a few bits that stuck in Rory's craw from the recent W flight of verbal flatulence and fancy:

W spews a bunch of energy related bullshit (yeah he talks about frickin' clean coal again ... sign me up for that and some clean dogshit and maybe some non-toxic DDT as well) and then says:
"Same on the electricity front. We can use wind power and electricity. These are all coming to the market because of research. They're becoming competitive forms of energy."
[rory sez: Holy Shit, electricity is becoming a competitive form of energy! When the fuck did that happen? Man, I must've been sleepin' for a long time. Can someone send me a link to any recent headlines to the effect of "ELECTRICITY COMES TO THE MARKET IN THE 21ST CENTURY DUE TO RESEARCH."]

"If you're interested in talking about No Child Left Behind, you can ask me about it. I'm a firm believer. I believe it's changing public education for the better because we're measuring."
[rory sez: "We're measuring." We ain't paying teachers well. We're cutting Federal Aid to education. Schools in the poorest areas of NYC and other places are literally crumbling, but we're fucking "measuring." Measuring to "end social promotion," not measuring to improve education. It's no fuckin' mystery what is needed. Feed on feces, dude.]

"I'm a big believer in what's called health savings accounts because it puts consumers in charge of health care decisions, and we strongly urge small businesses to look at this vehicle."
[rory sez: see rory's earlier post on this health savings account horseshit.]

"Secondly, the health care is an inefficient industry -- when you really think about what information technology has done to your business, providing better productivity increases, as well as interesting challenges, by the way. The same productivity increases haven't happened in health care. I mean, you've got a guy writing down prescriptions by hand, and/or files being written by hand, and doctors don't write so good anyway, which leads to medical error, and inefficiencies. So information technology, which we're now advancing here at the federal level, in conjunction with providers throughout the country, to develop a common vocabulary, so that eventually there will be electronic medical records, with ample privacy protections available, will help wring out some of the costs of health care."
.
[rory sez: Can't believe the sumbitch even has the nerve to take this flaccid bit of language out of his drawers and try to stuff it into the American brain again. Yep them Doctors they don't write so good. And well, that there information technology, since the Fedrul guvment is lookin' into that, I'm a thinkin' that the health care folks should do the same. See, 'cause if the health insurance industry got somma them, whaddya callit, yeah, computers, that's what they's called, they could provide real good health care to all them American peoples out there.]

"Health care costs are driven by frivolous lawsuits."
[rory sez: brain rape is monotonous, unfeeling, mindless, wrong, and repetitious, as evidenced by this claim so worn out its got scabs on its scabs.]

After saying, "I want to talk about the war on terror right quick," Bush threw out the following brutal but pathetically stupid mind-fucker with a completely straight face: "And there's no doubt in my mind that the United States is more secure ... without Saddam Hussein in power."
[rory sez: Don't even get that claim anywhere near my brain. You frickin' lying thought pervert! And what the fuck is this "right quick" shit? You ain't really a frickin' redneck there Yale boy. You are the fucking Prezdent of the United States, you need to talk good, 'specially when you talkin' to them paper folks, some of them knows that grammar thing.]

"[W]e cannot let terrorists find safe haven. They found safe haven in Afghanistan, where they could plot and plan and attack. And, therefore, it's very important for the United States to deny safe haven."
[rory sez: 4 words: What about Saudi Arabia?]

Safe Haven. Frivolous Lawsuits. Different kind of war. War on terror. Addicted to oil. No child left behind. Clean coal. My dad fought the Japanese now I'm buddies with the Japanese P.M. Well folks this recent talk is full of rehashed, reconstituted, and reflung bullshit. The usual topics and other nuggets to mine that Rory didn't touch on in this post. Well, I'm done readin' the Bushit for the moment, so I guess I can remove my brain condom.

The NSA is apparently blocking Rory's ability to link directly to the transcript of the aforementioned horsehit speechifying by the Prezdent. If you want to read it, the official whitehouse site has it linked on its home page.

May your cranium remain unviolated. And please, maintain Brain Rape Awareness at All Times! The Price of Freedom of Thought is Eternal Vigilance!

Rev. Verle Smegma Pens an anti-abortion Children's Book: Sacred South Dakota Billy Blastula.

2006-03-10T12:51:00.000-08:00

Reverend Verle Smegma of the Fourth Fundy Baptismal Church of the Latter Day Peckerwoods, a White House Abstinence-Only Educational Grant recipient, has penned a children's book. Recall, Reverend Smegma Distributes his own special brand of Abstinence-Only condoms.

His book has become quite popular already with the Christian right.

Kids speak on Billy Blastula:

"How come Billy looks the same in every picture?" (3rd grader)
[Rory sez: Because he's a frickin' cell clump kid, not a person. Cell clumps don't have faces or wear clothes for shitsake!"]

"I ain't gonna have no more sex with my Uncle until I'm married, 'cause Billy taught me real good." (4th grader)
[Rory sez: Holy Shit!]

"Can Billy come over to my house and visit?"
[I don't frickin' think so kid."]

"Who's Reverend Verle Smegma?"
[Believe me kid, you don't want to know.]

"Does God love Billy more than me?"
[In South Dickota, Fuckin' A kid.]

Pope Celebrates South Dakota Abortion Ban with Giant Erection -- Click Picture to Enlarge Him

2006-03-09T08:13:00.000-08:00

The Pope is so frickin' happy. Pope Ratzo Ratzinger pretty much wrote the South Dickota statute. He couldn't have done it any better himself. When Mike Rounds signed it into law, Ratzo put on his party shoes, did a little dance, and then got down with his infamous big erection ceremony.

Funny thing about this pro-life Pope, Truth Out's Marc Ash pointed out, he helped get Bush elected and continue the Iraq war. See, Pope Ratzo's crusading views on Islam make him dig shrubadub. And Kerry's position on abortion ... well that could have resulted in the loss of valuable cell clumps. Thus, influential sombitch that he is in this world, the blood of Iraq is on da Popeman's sceptre. And that's how an abortion ban in South Dickota relates to the abortion of livin' critters in Iraq. Real fucked up.

Asshole South Dickota Governor Mike Rounds Gives More Rights to Nonsentient Lumps of Flesh than to Raped Children

2006-03-07T20:13:00.000-08:00

Terms used the South Dickota Law prohibiting abortion unless the mother’s life is in danger:

1 "Pregnant," the human female reproductive condition, of having a living unborn human being within her body throughout the entire embryonic and fetal ages of the unborn child from fertilization to full gestation and child birth;

2 "Unborn human being," an individual living member of the species, homo sapiens, throughout the entire embryonic and fetal ages of the unborn child from fertilization to full gestation and childbirth;

3 "Fertilization," that point in time when a male human sperm penetrates the zona pellucida of a female human ovum. [Rory notes; So that there is a "human being' there on the right, soon as Merle's sperm penetrates -->]

"In the history of the world, the true test of a civilization is how well people treat the most vulnerable and most helpless in their society," the governor of South Dickota said. “And what could be more helpless than a newly fertilized egg or a precious blastula?”

The blastula is an early stage of embryonic development in animals. It is produced by cleavage of a fertilized ovum and consisting of a spherical layer of cells surrounding a fluid-filled cavity. Blastulas have no personality, sensory tissue, hopes, dreams, fears, bills, lovers, friends, values, pleasure, intellect, organs, or credit cards. They don't cry, they don't fart, and they don't buy anything. They ain't frickin' human. Come on now. Little Jane, well, she's human alright. Rory sez: Only a heartless bastard, a brainwashed moron, or what is technically known in the field of human evaluation as a "complete shithead," would give a blastula more rights than a woman or a little girl who was raped. Asshole Governor Mike Rounds signed this bill into law.

One of my tree friends did a portrait of Rounds.

A Peaceful Creature Who Takes Only What He Needs: Timber Rattlesnake Photographed by Rory 2005

2006-03-06T17:57:00.000-08:00

The rattlesnake: a creature far less dangerous than humans to other life and the earth.

Bush Enjoys Ungulate Oral Pleasuring While Onlookers Gasp -- Latest example of increasingly bizarre behavior by President

2006-03-05T20:16:00.000-08:00

Bush Indicted On Wanglingo for Reckless Bicycling: privilege to Operate Wheeled Vehicles Suspended for Ramming Policeman

2006-03-04T06:19:00.001-08:00

As noted at the Nordbank blogspot, Bush can't fart and bicycle at the same time. This became evident last summer when bicycling Bush raised his hand, which some onlookers mistook as a wave, and let a loud one rip, while careening along a Scottish Highway. Unable to dodge the President's kamikaze bicycle charge, the hapless Constable he ran down was off work with his injuries for 3 months.
Bush often raises his hand as he is about to expel wind and upon successfully farting outloud will habitually gather his fingers into a fist and mutter "Yesss." Unfortunately, farting, raising his hand, and cycling simultaneously put too great a strain on his executive functions and his brain became hopelessly confused at the multiple impulses. The result, a collision, a spill, and an injured Constable.

Here's how the press has covered the incident recently:

"The Scotsman, a leading newspaper in Scotland, reported Sunday that it had obtained a police report on the early July accident when the president crashed into a Scottish police constable while cycling in the grounds of Gleneagles Hotel during the G8 summit.

At the time, the focus of U.S. press reports was on the president's injuries--a few abrasions--while noting that that the constable had suffered a "very minor" ankle injury. The fact that Bush was wearing a helmet seemed to be the main accident detail, and that he had called the constable to check on his well-being.

According to the newspaper, however, the police officer (known in the report only as "Constable X") ended up on crutches and was off work for more than three months.

Bush had jumped on his bike for an early-evening jaunt at last year's G8 at the Perthshire resort. He ended up in a police report described as a "moving/falling object."

The report, according to The Scotsman, describes a detachment of constables covering a road junction where the president would pass through. The report goes on: "[At] about 1800 hours the President approached the junction at speed on the bicycle. The road was damp at the time. As the President passed the junction at speed he raised his left arm from the handlebars to wave to the police officers present while shouting 'thanks, you guys, for comin.'

[Rory's note: This is when Bush farted, actually, saying, "Thunder-train-a-comin!"]

"As he did this he lost control of the cycle, falling to the ground, causing both himself and his bicycle to strike [the officer] on the lower legs. [The officer] fell to the ground, striking his head. The President continued along the ground for approximately five metres, causing himself a number of abrasions. The officers... then assisted both injured parties....

"At hospital, a doctor examined the constable and diagnosed damage to his ankle ligaments and issued him with crutches. The cause was officially recorded as: 'Hit by moving/falling object'."

At the time, the newspaper noted, Bush laughed off the incident, saying he should start "acting his age".

[Rory's note: Bush added in a whisper to one of his aides, "It was hilarious, like it was almost like that fart blasted me off the bike and I was skidding along the ground."]

The Scotsman observed: "Details of precisely how the crash unfolded have until now been kept under wraps for fear of embarrassing both Bush and the injured constable. But the new disclosures are certain to raise eyebrows on Washington's Capitol Hill....

[Rory's note: Obviously, the most embarrassing details are still being kept under wraps.]

"In Scotland, an accident such as the one at Gleneagles could have led to police action. Earlier this year, Strathclyde Police issued three fixed penalty notices to errant cyclists as part of a crack-down on rogue riders. Legal experts also suggested lesser mortals could have ended up with a fixed penalty fine, prosecution, or at least a good ticking-off from officers."

John Scott, a human rights lawyer, said: "There's certainly enough in this account for a charge of careless driving. Anyone else would have been warned for dangerous driving.

"I have had clients who have been charged with assaulting a police officer for less than this. The issue of how long the police officer was out of action for is also important. He was away from work for 14 weeks, and that would normally be very significant in a case like this."

According to day-after press reports on July 7th, Bush blamed wet pavement and high speed for the fall. "We were flying,'' Bush said at a press conference in Gleneagles."

Fly-On-the-Wall reported on this incident for Rory. She advises that Bush was intoxicated and acting silly generally at the time of the incident. She also immediately reported the events to her co-citizens on Wanglingo. Symbolic charges were filed on that planet and an intergalactic arrest warrant was issued. There are now two outstanding Wanglingese warrants for Bush's arrest. In the meantime, Bush is forbidden by the Wanglingese from operating any wheeled vehicle, due to his habitual offender status. According to Fly, supporting telepathic documentation notes that Bush repeatedly has demonstrated an inability to safely operate a bicycle, has shown an inability to use a wheeled scooter without imperiling life and limb, and has now demonstrated that he is a danger not only to himself but to others when he is astride an instrumentality even as benign as a bicycle.

According to the Wanglingese, additionally, because of evidence presented concerning his inability to safely eat pretzels while observing televised sporting events, a condition of his Wanglinese bail requires him to wear a safety helmet while consuming pretzels or chips.

As noted in previous posts, Wanglingese arrest warrants are largely symbolic and barring a Bush trip to Wanglingo carry no tangible consequences for Bush.

Additionally, telepathic brain scans of Bush, conducted by Fly, indicated that additional areas of his brain, not already killed by earlier cocaine use and other unidentified causes, were damaged during the pretzel incident.
Doctor Silken advises that Bush's brain does not have the wherewithal to sustain any more 'insults." "One or two more pretzel or bike accidents
and I would not be surprised to see Bush walking about muttering incoherently, picking his nose and observing his finger studiously, laughing inappropriately at flatulence, and acting out violent impulses willy-nilly," Silken recently opined. Uh, Doc, hello, what the frickin' hell do you think is going on right now?

Rory wishes to thank Nordbank for inspiring this post in the light of Rory's previous post. Got a link below to Nordbank, where you can find the precious quote about Gerry Ford, gum chewing, and the ability to fart at the same time that seems all too apt today.

Account of Recent Bush Bike Accident

"He fainted due to a temporary decrease in heart rate brought on by swallowing a pretzel," White House physician Dr Richard Tubb said.

Bush previous bike accident

"Jerry Ford is so dumb that he can't fart and chew gum at the same time."-- Nordbank blogspot

The Scooter Incident (wheeled not Libby)

Right Wing Baldy Jeff Gannon Scornfully Predicts "Bikegate"

Fly-On-the-Wall's Bio

President Bush Reveals Puerile Obsession With Fart Humor Under Stress in India. Indian Muslims Outraged. "This is worse than the cartoons," some say.

2006-03-03T18:03:00.000-08:00

Rory has to say that the Indian Imams are wrong. Bush's silly farting antics have nothing to do with disrespecting the Prophet.
There is apparently no truth to the rumor that Bush accompanied one of his loudest stitch-rippers, expelled while he was pretending to pay his respects to Ghandi, with the quip, "Thus spake Mohammed."

This rumor is as phony as the claim that the man in the pig mask was mocking Mohammed as opposed to appearing years ago at a hog calling contest or suchlike in France.
The President has, however, been heard to say, "That's my contribution to global warming, better inform those scientists ..." upon letting go with a loud one.

Rory would like to relate an interesting Bush fart fact, while we're on the subject. The President's favorite historical document is Benjamin Franklin’s infamous “fart letter.” His favorite quote therefrom:

“Were it not for the odiously offensive Smell accompanying such Escapes, polite People would probably be under no more Restraint in discharging such Wind in Company, than they are in spitting, or in blowing their Noses.”

The Infamous Ben Franklin Fart Letter

On another note:

And he says they hate us because of our freedoms.

By the way, Rory was told by the NSA not to post this one. Could cause rioting. Will hold the President up to ridicule. Just too silly. Rory has only one response to these cautions. Fuckit, man.

Ford Wins Rory's 2006 Homi Award for Intentionally Weakening the Explorer's Roof: Ford Emphasis on Profitable Homi[cide] Recognized by Roryshock

2006-03-01T10:38:00.000-08:00

Rory Shock announces the first Homi award winner: Ford Motor Company. According to documents which were public record for a time, but have now been withdrawn and hidden from the public due to a Florida Judge's slavish pro-corruptco ruling, Ford "made the Explorer's roof treacherously weak ... [and if that wasn't bad enough] Ford had made the Explorer's roof weaker, leaving its roof strength-to-vehicle-weight ratio only a slim margin above the 35-year-old [laughable and pro-industry] federal safety standard." This information is contained in a Public Citizen Press release concerning the ruling in a Florida case in which a young man successfully sued Ford for his wife's death caused by their collapsing Explorer in an all too routine rollover. THE DOCUMENTS WHICH ARE NOW HIDDEN (THEY WERE REMOVED FROM THE NATIONAL HIGHWAY TRANSPORTATION SAFETY BOARD SITE) SHOW THAT FORD HAS HAD EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE OF HOW STRONGER ROOFS CAN PREVENT ROLLOVER INJURIES AND DEATHS AND JUST DOESN'T GIVE A CAT'S COLON.

Public Citizen Press Release

It's deja vu time in the automobile industry. Back in the 70's Ford marketed the rolling crematorium known as the Pinto. Eventually, they were hit with huge damage verdicts because documents showed that they callously weighed the cost of paying off a few survivors of the incincerated against profits gained by cutting safety corners.

Predictibly they decided that they could still make plenty o' money despite the cost of hundreds of miserable, painful, unnecessary deaths and mutilations.

Mother Jones ran an excellent article about the Pinto back then. Here's a quote: "By conservative estimates Pinto crashes have caused 500 burn deaths to people who would not have been seriously injured if the car had not burst into flames. The figure could be as high as 900. Burning Pintos have become such an embarrassment to Ford that its advertising agency, J. Walter Thompson, dropped a line from the end of a radio spot that read "Pinto leaves you with that warm feeling.""

Mother Jones article on Ford’s Fabulous Crematorium on Rubber aka the “Pinto” ca. 1977

How many have died and will die in the Explorer, aka "The Bone Crusher?" 10,000 people a year die in rollover crashes on United States Highways. Many of these are single vehicle accidents where the only thing that happens is the rollover itself. It would be kinda nice if the roof didn't collapse, wouldn't it? Nor has Rory gathered the stats on how many are maimed, paralyzed, left in agony for the rest of their days, so that Ford Execs can explore new golf courses around the world, drink multi-malt scotch, and generally speaking have a velvet glove rub and tug time of a life while the consumer crashes and burns.

The other thing that would be nice, and pretty much un-American according to corruptco, would be if the government and the sellers of the bone crushing units would just be frickin' honest and straightforward. Instead, they are completely full of loose ratshit and generally speaking mislead the public. The automotive industry in general and Ford in particular have a giant smoke up the ass machine working here.

Instead of telling the consumer about the dangers associated with driving an explorer, Ford today makes this claim on their Explorer site: "2006 Ford Explorer earns the government's highest safety score." Yeah, well, it did get "Five Stars" for the largely-meaningless-in-most-real-life-situations-side-and-front-impact-tests, but guess what? Its rating on rollover, the way you're probably gonna die in one of these things, is not touted at all on Ford's official site. They got 3 stars for rollover. While a 3 star restaurant might have decent food and a 3 star movie might be worth sitting through, a 3 star rollover rating pretty much sucks. 3 Stars'll kill ya, dudes. 3 stars means up to a 30% chance of rollover in some context that they don't like to make to clear. Ford doesn't tell you that it got a shitass rollover rating. It just says it "earns the government's highest safety score." While that is technically true in corruptco talk, in the world of decent interpersonal communications, that would warrant the equivalent of a red hot knife blade to the tongue as a Saudi-like punishment for being a lying sack of shit. Rory sez: Hello Ford. Ford, you are a lying sack of shit.

Ford Explorer Gets Worst Rollover Ratings

Also, dudes, in case you were worried that the Bush administrative agencies were tightening up the regs here, if not their sphincters, and lifting their shamelessy-greased and cheaply sold ass off the industry's shvantz, Ford points out on their site: "Fact is, the new Explorer meets all known federal frontal- and side-impact crash requirements through 2010." "Damn that's a safe veehickle, Merle. I'm unna get me one uh them. 5 dang stars. That's real safe," Festus said. Wait a frickin' minute Merle and Festus. How about Rory's rating here?

A site that has a vehicle rating system based on truth -- it ain't pretty but then sometimes the truth ain't too pretty

Talk is Cheap But It Can Still Buy a Long Stay at Club Fed These Days, Which Ultimately Reminds Rory of Another Frickin' Steve Earle Song

2006-02-25T19:50:00.000-08:00

Rory read about the Federal arrest on February 23, 2006, of a so-called radical environmentalist, Rod Coronado, for demonstrating how to make a "destructive device." Basically, he held up a partially consumed jug of apple juice and told people you could fill it with gas, put a stick of incense in it as a fuse and cause a fire.
Ah, but Coronado has been convicted of interfering with a puma hunt in Arizona and did several years in Federal Prison for torching an animal research facility in Michigan. Coronado is an unapologetic Yaqui Indian and Earth Liberationist: i.e. someone the Feds want to nail as a "terrorist." So when he talks about flaming juice bottles, the Feds listen. And now, they apparently want to lock him up for years for holding up a jug of apple juice and talking about a a firebomb. First let Rory say this about that, to paraphrase one of the great firebombers of history, Tricky Dick "Napalm" Nixon: Rory condemns violence for any purpose or cause other than immediate personal self-defense or defense of another in accordance with the accepted law on that subject. That being said, it appears that the newest charges against Coronado are flaming feces. What's next? Is the little-known anarchist Kiplinger Suggs liable to lenghty incarceration if he holds up a dog turd and says, "Well, folks if this were a piece of depleted uranium and you attached a piece of explosive and blew it up, you'd have yourself a dirty bomb?" Apparently so, according to the new Anti-Terrorists. Why, it could make you downright reluctant to express yourself about the subject at all, even with the best of intentions. It's a lot easier to go after the talkers than the doers, though.

The statute being used to tie Coronado to the grate for his flogging was used to lock up a teen-aged webmaster by the name of Sherman Austin.
There has been a fair amount of excellent writing about the Austin case, albeit not enough, and Rory will provide links at the end of all this. But, radically summarized, Austin was sent to prison for being a web host who provided a link to a page that had bomb making instructions.
He provided the hosting space and server and somebody else posted a page with the bomb making instructions, which at least one commentator has pointed out were pathetically rudimentary. But Austin's site was the infamous Raisethefist anarchist site. It's free-wheeling, free-speechifying, indy-media style site dealing with what some would call "radical politics" and issues, such as corporate rape of land and people, police brutality, unjustified war, and other topics which the government would like to suppress. You can go there right now and post an article yourself. Federal Agents and various agents provacateurs do it regularly. So, again, Sherman was dubbed an "enemy of the people" and lost a year of his freedom (and much more due to harassment, surveillance, ransacking of his possessions and dwelling, etc.) for hosting a web site manifesting anarchy itself. There is a lot of crap spouted there, just like every other electronic public square. Repression only further radicalizes and escalates the situation, however, regardless of what one things of some of the posts. By the way, the site now carries the disclaimer shown here.

All of this makes Rory extremely curious about

this wacked out (phony Fed??????) bomb-making page?

Why no prosecution? Is it run by White Supremecists? Is it run by the Federal Government itself, seeking to entrap or create "terror" suspects. Is it posted to justify tagging people as suspicious for visiting or downloading? It sounds so fucked up and out there that one really suspects that the "webmaster" responsible for this one must be some cackling madman mindlessly spanking the thought monkey while making up this lameass bullshit. Still, isn't the best counter-approach to this sort of crap education, condemnation of the message, derisive laughter, etc? I mean look at this drivel:

Clearly, if Sherman and Rod can be locked up for their transgressions, he or she who downloads and communicates the contents of the manuals advertised here should be in equal jeopardy. Ah, it's all about the intent, some might say. Well, it sure as shit didn't seem to matter in Sherman's case, for example. He had no intent regarding the use of the crap that was posted. Probably was some frickin' hard-wankin' argument made by hair-splitting lawyers over hoary rules of construction (ironic word that, eh) concerning intent being manifest by a probability of knowledge that someone could likely use disseminated info about bombs for nefarious purposes. In other words, the law that fucked Sherman over and that is just beginning to display its engorged member behind Rod Coronado can be wielded totally arbitrarily. Does that make it unconsitutional? Rory would think so. But what Rory thinks don't mean jack squat. What will Alito and his boys say when Gonzo Gonzales tells 'em the statute is a necessary tool to protect the nation from terrists? That's what's gonna make the difference. Talk about terror. Can we trust the powers that be to use this law responsibly, rationally, fairly? Not according to what we are seeing every day now.

All of which makes me feel like hearing another Steve Earle song from The Revolution Starts Now. You know, the one with these words:

F the CC

I used to listen to the radio
And I don’t guess they’re listenin’ to me no more
They talk too much but that’s okay
I don’t understand a single word they say
Piss and moan about the immigrants
But don’t say nothin’ about the president
A democracy don’t work that way
I can say anything I wanna say

So fuck the FCC
Fuck the FBI
Fuck the CIA
Livin’ in the motherfuckin’ USA

People tell me that I’m paranoid
And I admit I’m gettin’ pretty nervous, boy
It just gets tougher everyday
To sit around and watch it while it slips away
Been called a traitor and a patriot
Call me anything you want to but
Just don’t forget your history
Dirty Lenny died so we could all be free

Is Steve Earle correct when he says "I can say anything I wanna say?" Used to be anything except that which causes a true clear and present danger of violence. That is apparently not the case right now. And is Steve under scrutiny for advocating sexual violence against a governmental agency as a result of this song? Oh, my God, and Rory posted the text of the song that could be construed as advocating mass sexual action against governmental agencies. Is there a statute yet providing for 20 years in Club Fed for advocating sexual intercourse with an agency engaged in counter-terrorism? After all, someone out there might read the lyrics and actually try to do it.

sherman austin on sherman austin and domestic spying

counterpunch on sherman austin

arizona indy media on Rod Coronado arrest

Oh Condi, Condi -- Has Steve Earle Seen this One? Why, it's Hitler-chic!

2006-02-24T22:28:00.000-08:00

According to Desmond Morris: By conforming to the basic sexual restrictions that the culture has developed, it is possible to give clear signals that “I am not available for copulation," and yet, at the same time, to give other signals which say that “I am nevertheless very sexy.” Morris suggests this behavior is a way of reducing antagonistic feelings in others in the social group, particularly those of the opposite sex.

Frankly, Condi and her fashion statement completely confuse Rory. But, I was wondering why my level of antagonism wasn't higher. The subconscious workings of the peek-a-boo civil war style coat? Nah. Come on Rory, that's just wrong. Yeah, well, Steve Earle wrote a song that's on his Revolution Starts Now Album, remember? Oh yeah. Honestly, man, that song is pretty confusing to me, too. Although Steve is a frickin' hero of music.

By Steve Earle:

Condi, Condi

Oh Condi Condi beggin’ on my knees
Open up your heart and let me in wontcha please
Got no money but everybody knows
I love you Condi and I’ll never let you go
Sweet and dandy pretty as can be
You be the flower and I’ll be the bumble bee
Oh she loves me oops she loves me not
People say you’re cold but I think you’re hot

Oh, Condi, Condi
Oh, Condi, Condi

Oh Condi, Condi I’m talkin’ to you girl
What’s it gonna hurt come on give me a whirl
Shake your body now let me see you go
One time for me Oh Condi I love you so
Skank for me Condi show me what you got
They say you’re too uptight I say you’re not
Dance around me spinnin’ like a top
Oh Condi Condi Condi don’t ever stop

Oh Condi Condi Can’t you hear me call
I’m standin’ in the street outside your garden wall
Pocketful of money belly full of wine
Condi in my heart and romance on my mind
Listen to me Condi don’t be afraid
I come here tonight to chase your blues away
I’ll never hurt you I’ll treat you right
Oh Condaleeza won’t you come out tonight

Pretty little Condi precious as can be
Bet you never had another lover like me

Rory Plays with Colored Pencils #1

2006-02-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

Leon Kuhn: Images Worth Examining

2006-02-23T18:43:00.000-08:00

While reeling half-blind through dark internet back-alleys surrounded by comforting mind-fog looking for Iraq war protest songs I spied a door slightly ajar, a light within. I entered the Peace Not War site and found protest song compilations. But I was quickly distracted by an invitation into a gallery filled with an excellent anti-bush, anti-war, anti-blair poster collection. The above image by Leon Kuhn, found there with the work of others, well, it captured my brain. Synaptic success it was, man. So disturbing, yet so truthful. Rory couldn't help but exclaim "Fuckin' A!" One thing led to another. I checked out Leon's site and found visual cortex treasure. I recommend you visit. He's a talented artist and says a lot without words. And he's got a Brit perspective which adds a dash of novelty from my POV. So, Rory contacts Leon for permission to post his images. Leon responds with excellent advice of general application: "Go on then!" So that's what Rory does.
Rock on Leon.

Leon Kuhn's Art

Peace Not War Gallery