Saturday, December 03, 2005

I heard yesterday that Gawker Media, the corporate blog bundle that owns, among others, Disclaimer, Fleshbot and Wonkette was bought by the New York Times for $32 million. My first reaction was thirty two fucking million? Are they out of their New York minds? How the hell does anyone expect to earn back $32 million from blog advertising? My second though was what the fuck? If blogs are the new dotcom, let’s get in on it. Anyone want snap up Doc40? To you, just $1.5 mill, complete with sex machine links, secret words, and fucking cheap at the price. Call me, okay?

The secret word is Avarice

After reading how Katie Holmes was tossed out of a movie theatre because she wouldn’t turn off some buzzing device that was supposed to do something to improve her baby, and then how she and Tom Cruise bought their own sonogram machine so they could keep looking at the damned fetus, a very disturbing idea crossed my mind. Could it be that they are actually breeding Scientology’s own Antichrist, the ultimate foe of the Nazareen, and future Evil Dictator of the Six Planets? Maybe the sperm responsible was really that of L. Ron Hubbard, decanted from cryo-preservation.
So where is Victor Renquist now that we need him?

The secret number is 666

Friday, December 02, 2005

I just saw a Che Guevara emoticom happy face on some teen message board. I think I'll quietly put myself in a home.

As David Bowie once remarked – "God and man - no confessions/God and man - no religion/God and man - don't believe in modern love/Never gonna fall for modern love"
And modern love is really getting a tad complicated, schizophrenic, and weirdly accessorized...

On one level, science discovers that love really is only random chemistry.
Psychiatrists from Pavia University have associated early romantic love with a biochemical known as nerve growth factor (NGF). Apparently, levels of NGF in the bloodstream were significantly higher in subjects who were in the early stages of romance than individuals not in a relationship. Interestingly, "subjects in love who—after 12–24 months—maintained the same relationship but were no longer in the same mental state to which they had referred during the initial evaluation" did not have elevated NGF levels.

But while Maureen Dowd asks "Are Men Necessary?", cellular biology further eliminates sex from the reproductive process...,2930,68970,00.html?tw=wn_story_page_prev2

Meanwhile, over in the BDSM community, the hot item would appear to be tattooing one’s slaves with a barcode registration. (Mark of The Beast? Now I want to be your dog?) What that has to do with NGF is anyone’s guess.

And in the same general kink quadrant/Twilight Zone, one online sex-toy vendor demonstrates in graphic streaming that all partners may be rendered redundant by stark mechanisms never dreamed of in James Brown's philosophy. (WARNING – Do not click on this link if you are under 18, sexually repressed, daunted or judgmental, born again, or feel that all erotic playacting is somehow exploitative.)

Now light a corporate AIDS candle for sponsored charity

Supposedly the opposite of Venus, Mars, it seems, holds water...

The secret number is #9

This week’s column is about Howard Stern going to satellite. (And even since I wrote the piece, I’ve been hearing tell of tech glitches on Sirius.)

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Try clicking this and, if your media player plays ball, you get another view of Butterstick. (But don't blame Doc40 if you can't get it to work, okay?)
" mms://"
Sometimes, as the bills roll in, I reflect bitterly on how fascism is so much better paid than fighting the Good Fight for the Tenth Internationale. Most of the time we think in terms of the big ticket pond scum – celebrity fanatics like Ann Coulter, loathsomely calculated turncoats like Christopher Hitchens, or megalomaniacal opportunists like Bill O’Reilly. But even down on the entry level, the sell-out thrives. I’ve had enough bits and pieces reprinted on those political blogs that are followed with endless witty or abusive comments to wonder how right-wing trolls find the time to be all over the map hollering "Yay, George! Yay Jesus! Yay, war! You’re all fucking traitors!" But all is now revealed by an ad on Craig’s List...

"A Christian based marketing firm is looking for 2 writers to blog and participate in a wide variety of blogs and online forums. Ideal candidates are fast typers, with excellent communication skills, and are fast learners. $11 per hour - 25 hours per week."

So now we know. The falange-trolls are low-rent cyber scabs whoring for a little over minium wage, which would seem to go hand in hand with all the bought-and-paid-for-talk show hosts, the planted shrills in the White House Press Corps, and the latest revelation that the US Army is writing the Iraqis’ newspapers for them, (and that has to be such a fun read).

(The clip was lifted from LA Observed )

And if that wasn’t enough we also have a religious neocon rock band called Junkyard Prophet touring schools and being paid $1500.00 a gig by...wait for it...a Department of Education anti-drug program to spout some dumbed-down cocktail of Herman Goering, Ayn Rand, and Slayer – as in "The death sentence on you/Due to your sins/The very evidence of your sin/Will be your death!" I note from the story, though, that attendance was mandatory, maybe indicating JP suck transcendentally. Nixon really should have coming up with something like JP – the anti-Doors – returning the youth to patriotism, back when we commie-subversive, rama-lama cowboys were getting our cheques signed directly by Chairman Mao. Who knows? The war in Vietnam might still be going strong today, setting proud records for pointlessly sustained combat.

The secret word is Nincompoop

CRYPTIQUELike the Rolling Stones.

It really doesn’t look so good around the Greenland Pump.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

According to Seymour Hersh, writing in the New Yorker, the President now believes that, in Iraq at least, he is on a mission from God...
"Bush’s closest advisers have long been aware of the religious nature of his policy commitments. In recent interviews, one former senior official, who served in Bush’s first term, spoke extensively about the connection between the President’s religious faith and his view of the war in Iraq. After the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, the former official said, he was told that Bush felt that "God put me here" to deal with the war on terror. The President’s belief was fortified by the Republican sweep in the 2002 congressional elections; Bush saw the victory as a purposeful message from God that "he’s the man," the former official said. Publicly, Bush depicted his reëlection as a referendum on the war; privately, he spoke of it as another manifestation of divine purpose."
And the manifestation of this manifestation would seem uncomfortably close to the classic bunker, with the leader moving toy armies around on the map while the henchmen distance themselves...
"The President is more determined than ever to stay the course," the former defense official said. "He doesn’t feel any pain. Bush is a believer in the adage ‘People may suffer and die, but the Church advances.’ " He said that the President had become more detached, leaving more issues to Karl Rove and Vice-President Cheney. "They keep him in the gray world of religious idealism, where he wants to be anyway."
The only guys I have ever trusted on a mission from God were Jake and Elwood Blues, and only then in the narrow context of staging a rock concert in suburban Chicago to save the orphanage. All else rapidly goes David Koresh.
For the full story...

The secret word is Nutjob

But nothing to do, it would seem, with aliens. (See yesterday)

PANDA WALKS (I am not a bear)
Today the panda Tai Shan (or Butterstick, as wonkette and I prefer to call him) was rolled out at the National Zoo in Washington for a photo op. The results will be all over the media, but here’s an adorable link to Butterstick enjoying a rasta-spliff plus a full panda timeline...
And the event also gives me the chance to post another link to the panda cam...

Due to be torn down tomorrow, the parking structure at the LA County Museum has become a transitory assembly of graffiti covering all of the walls. Hipsinster blogs about the explosion of guerrilla art, but we need to see some pictures. If any have been posted, do tell.

AND GET FRANK RICH FOR FREE (Instead of paying at the NYT)

CRYPTIQUEYou butter your margarine.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The ancient and highly cranky comments board – right over on the right there – has now made it to 800 comments. It has long functioned as absurdist piece of cyberart rather than any practical forum, and yet it so far survives. I know it takes a long time to scroll down to enter an new comment, especially on dial-up, but please persevere in the interests of seeing how far we can push it. (Always one of my favorite things.)

Regular readers with be aware that I have previously ruminated on how the aliens seem to have gone to ground since George Bush wrangled his lease on the White House, but it seems the Canadians have their fingers on the extraterrestrial pulse. Canadian Defense Minister Paul Hellyer has allerted the Canadian Parliament to the dangers of alien invasion and initiated hearings about the implications of ET encounters and the possiblity that "advanced civilizations that may now be visiting Earth." Hellyer’s concerns were first made public back in September, when he made a speech at the University of Toronto.
"The secrecy involved in all matters pertaining to the Roswell incident was unparalled. The classification was, from the outset, above top secret, so the vast majority of U.S. officials and politicians, let alone a mere allied minister of defence, were never in-the-loop. . . . The United States military are preparing weapons which could be used against the aliens, and they could get us into an intergalactic war without us ever having any warning. . . . The Bush administration has finally agreed to let the military build a forward base on the moon, which will put them in a better position to keep track of the goings and comings of the visitors from space, and to shoot at them, if they so decide."

And sent over the following...
"Randy "Duke" Cunningham, the infamously stupid and rabidly right wing Congressman from San Diego, who resigned today after admitting to taking at least $2.4 M in bribes is the same oaf who attacked Bill Clinton in Sept 1996 for appointing judges who were alleged to be "soft on crime." Cunningham roared that "We must get tough on drug dealers. Those who peddle destructioin to our children must pay dearly." Four months later his son Todd was busted over a deal to ship 400 pounds of weed to California from Massachusetts*. When it came time for sentencing this particular drug dealer, Representative Cunningham begged the judge for leniency. However, Todd got two and a half years, in part because he tested positive for cocaine three times while on bail."
*Huh? Another Canadian connection?

The ongoing trial of Saddam Hussein can only prompt me to feel that the WW2 Allies must have breathed a sigh of relief when Adolf Hitler shot himself, and also reflect that, okay, so Saddam was one murdering despotic bastard, but maybe – just maybe – that was what it took to keep Iraq quiet. But read the report (sent over by some girl) and you be the judge. There are, however, a couple of lines that raise a red flag. "The images are being broadcast by U.S. company Court TV with a 30-minute delay to allow officials to censor the footage."

Meanwhile, Gary Glitter could be the first rock start to be executed by firing squad. (Or any other means, for that matter, unless you count Victor Jara in Chile.),,2-1343-1345_1840497,00.html

The secret word is Convict

Las casitas del Barrio Alto
con rejas y antejardin,
una preciosa entrada de autos
esperando un Peugeot.
Hay rosadas, verdecitas,
blanquitas y celestitas,
las casitas del Barrio Alto
todas hechas con resipol.
Y las gentes de las casitas
se sonríen y se visitan.
Van juntitos al supermarket
y todos tienen un televisor.
Hay dentistas, comerciantes,
latifundistas y traficantes,
abogados y rentistas.
Y todos visten policron,
juegan bridge, toman martini-dry.
Y los niZos son rubiecitos
y con otros rubiecitos
van juntitos al colegio high.
Y el hijito de su papi
luego va a la universidad
comenzando su problemática
y la intríngulis social.
Fuman pitillos en Austin mini,
juegan con bombas y con políticos,
asesina generales,
y es un gángster de la sedición.
Y las gentes de las casitas
se sonríen y se visitan.
Van juntitos al supermarket
y todos tienen un televisor.
Hay rosadas, verdecitas,
blanquitas y celestitas,
las casitas del Barrio Alto,
todas hechas con resipol.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Today I have an oped piece in The Los Angeles Times. In contrast to the morose posting below, it suggests that maybe we’re actually freaking out a little hard, a little too often...,0,5965004.story?track=tothtml

Sunday, November 27, 2005

I keep telling myself I watch too much TV, and especially TV with commercials, and especially TV with commercials during what’s laughingly called the holiday season, because any sense of introspection will be subverted into to an unconscious guilt that I am not out buying stuff, or furiously earning, by any means necessary, the cash to buy said stuff. I am unfortunately very bad at taking my own advice and thus found myself slumped in front of a TV which was all red and white and holly jolly, and cars with bows on the roof, and about the only person I could identify with was the barbarian pillager in the credit card commercial (What’s in your wallet?) who shoots the plastic lawn reindeer with a crossbow and grins. And then, wholly unwanted, an old Lonnie Donegan songs invades my head, complete with imaginary mournful harmonica....
Times are getting hard boys
Money’s getting scarce
If times don’t much better boys
Sure that they’ll get worse
At which point I should have reached for the remote, but I hesitated long enough to catch Sixty Minutes where I learn about all the shit that’s going on over Plan B, the morning-after contraceptive, that only serves as yet another reminder of how a theocratic embryo police state is sliming its way through the land with aid of Wal Mart and all these Bush appointments of fanatics, incompetents, crooks, and imbeciles to key posts federal agencies. And then the next segment takes me on a tour of these hideously ugly, tasteless fucking mansions the rich are having built for them, these 13 thousand square feet, Republican starter-castles, paid for by the sweat of minimum wage, burning energy and leaking heat, that make Graceland look like Frank Lloyd Wright, and I can only pray they all die horrible Stephen King deaths because the developer laid the golf course over the old Indian burial ground.

The secret word is Rise

I’ve always been a big reader of newspapers from somewhere other than the US. Always, though, a pretty random effort, but now MrMR sends me a site that has foreign press all packaged and one-stop.