BUT MAYBE THEY AREN’T SO BAD

I mean, here’s a nice t-shirt requesting prayers for the president. Or so it seems until you actually look up Psalm 109:8, and discover that the text reads – “Let his days be few; and let another take his office. Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.” In other words it’s a biblical call for assassination. These people disgust me.

SPACE OPERA

If I just had the time to think up a proper title, figure out a plot, write a libretto and score, and raise a few million bucks to mount a full scale production, I could have a wonderful Broadway show and win tons of Tonys and be the toast of the town. (Who shot you, Dutch?)

ARMED BANKERS FEAR THE WRATH OF MOB

This just in from Bloomberg columnist Alice Schroeder. She reports that…

“Goldman Sachs vampires are loading up on handguns to defend themselves against popular uprising. “"I just wrote my first reference for a gun permit," said a friend, who told me of swearing to the good character of a Goldman Sachs Group Inc. banker who applied to the local police for a permit to buy a pistol. The banker had told this friend of mine that senior Goldman people have loaded up on firearms and are now equipped to defend themselves if there is a populist uprising against the bank.” (Lifted from Boing Boing.)

The secret word is Bunker

A SUGGESTION

This gold customized .45 caliber Colt 1911 – with the gilded engraving that looks so much like cash money – should be just the defensive ticket for any nervous Master of the Universe. Even though it’s been in use for almost a century, the 1911 is the perfect prole-stopper and was the favored side-arm of (among others) Mike Hammer, Sonny Crockett, the Phantom, the Spirit, the Shadow, Nick Fury, Walker, Pike Bishop and the rest of The Wild Bunch. It’s ideal piece to persuade the poor that poverty is just God’s way of chiding their stupidity and laziness.

MARS ATTRACTS

Our friends at the Bangalore Film Society sent this link to an amazing War Of The Worlds all-you-ever-might-need-to-know website. Click here.

Sadly, our pal Doctor of the BFS has been in what appears to be a fairly serious auto accident and we all wish him well.

THE FROZDICK FAMILY

Even by the family’s exceptionally flexible standards, F9C7 Frozdick was considered odd.

COMMERCIAL

“Without my Bennies, I would never have bombed Dresden.”

MARILYN SMOKED DOPE?

“Who? Me?”

While Marilyn has been on a protracted, but maybe much needed, furlough from her multi-dimensional Doc40 adventures, it turns out that maybe the blonde goddess was a stoner. Our pal Mark Haspam has already alerted us in a comment on yesterday’s “THEY SHALL NOT PASS” post in which he reports …

“A silent home movie allegedly showing Hollywood icon Marilyn Monroe smoking marijuana has surfaced, retrieved from an attic some 50 years after it was filmed. The reel-to-reel silent, color film was recently purchased by collector Keya Morgan for $275,000 from the person who took the film, who has asked to remain anonymous. Morgan and the person who shot the film gave Reuters permission to use a minute of footage from the four minutes of Monroe on camera. According to Morgan, the footage shows a personal side of the tragic actress, rarely seen by the public after she achieved stardom. The copyright of the image will be put up for sale on eBay later this week, Morgan said. The claim that Monroe was smoking marijuana came from the photographer, who spoke only on condition of anonymity."

Click here for the clip (but you might have to verify your age.) The rare image was supplied by the marvellous Valerie. A similar BBC report comes from our homegirl Hipspinster. Click here.

The secret word is Muggles

IS THIS WOMAN PART OF THE CONSPIRACY?

I really like what veteran writer Chris Hedges has to say, but that doesn’t mean I always agree or endorse. In this piece, he complains that we are being distracted from the abyss by trivia…

“Will Tiger Woods finally talk to the police? Who will replace Oprah? (Not that Oprah can ever be replaced, of course.) And will Michaele and Tareq Salahi, the couple who crashed President Barack Obama's first state dinner, command the hundreds of thousands of dollars they want for an exclusive television interview? Can Levi Johnston, father of former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin's grandson, get his wish to be a contestant on "Dancing With the Stars"? The chatter that passes for news, the gossip that is peddled by the windbags on the airwaves, the noise that drowns out rational discourse, and the timidity and cowardice of what is left of the newspaper industry reflect our flight into collective insanity. We stand on the cusp of one of the most seismic and disturbing dislocations in human history, one that is radically reconfiguring our economy as it is the environment, and our obsessions revolve around the trivial and the absurd.” (Click here for more.)

Okay, he’s probably right, but here at Doc40 – where we pride ourselves on being part of the solution – we rejoice in the madness of the trivial and absurd. Today alone we have Marilyn, Katy, Daleks, and the War on Christmas. In a time when bread is scarce and the circuses suck, it’s the only guard against combat fatigue in the good fight. The Skip Williamson image below is old, but it says it all. (And BTW Cynthia Heimel seems to think Michaele Salahi is a hooker.)

AIN’T THAT THE TRUTH?

NUDE WITH DALEK

Way back in May of 2007, we posted a picture of actress Katy Manning posing naked in boots with a Dalek. At the time it was a thing of modest (or maybe immodest) fun, but since that time, it has taken hundreds – if not thousands – of hits from people with no interest in Doc40 who have been Googling Katy and her evil-robot companion. Well, guess what? Here’s another shot from what has to be the same photo shoot that I happened across while trolling the fringes of the Dr Who universe/time-curve. Grubby fanboys of Planet Earth, start your search engines.

THE WAR ON CHRISTMAS

The buttons are coming. Stay tuned.

THEY SHALL NOT PASS

THE WAR ON CHRISTMAS STARTS HERE. For years now, the manipulators of the right – O’Reilly, Hannity, more lately Glenn Beck and all their banshee companions have, each December, been trumping up crap about a liberal-commie War On Christmas, but here in 2009, I figure we need one. Now we have Walmart shoppers trampling each other to death in some Hobbesian gift-apocalypse the whole Yule concept has to be very seriously revised. Way back in 1986, I wrote in the old (honest, pre-Lacey) Village Voice…

“It's around this time of year that I'm profoundly glad that I'm not a parent. How do you explain to a TV-soaked brat that all he's getting is a rather small clockwork robot and that there is no way, short of starving through January and February, that the family can spring for the sev­en-foot-long, fully operational G.I. Joe aircraft carrier? There’s a sense of being trapped. You start to feel that even if you went so far as to hide out in the hills, a red red robin would insist on bob bobbing along as a yule re­minder. A simple trip to the supermarket continues the numbing propaganda holly motif. The people on the sidewalk all seen more determined than you are in their will to jollity. It's all too easy to become convinced, like my friend the rummy, that ev­eryone else is as loving and giving as the Cosby family and that you're the only one stifling a humbug. A flip through Decem­ber's Playboy can give a man the impression that there are women out there who give their boyfriends gift-wrapped motorcycles. How come I have to be satisfied with a lousy bottle of after-shave? The only respite is Elvis Presley singing “Blue Christmas.” At least someone once copped to seasonal misery.”

And this was in the middle of greed-is-good, Manhattan affluence. How much worse will it be today here in the 21st century zombie depression? Okay, so celebrate the solstice, Odin, Elvis*, Cthulhu, General Zod**, the Universal Mind, Diana the Huntress or just the simple Return of The Light. (And heaven only knows we could use a bit of light returning to this miasma.) Eat, drink, fart, fall over, but enough with the terminal death-dealing consumerism. We will talk more about this.

The secret word is Ixnay

*Click here for an added Elvis moment.

**Click here for an added General Zod moment.

FROM THE WHAT-MORE-DO-YOU-NEED-TO-KNOW? ARCHIVE

Although I have no independent confirmation, I believe this was the conclusion of negotiations for the Nazi/Zeta Reticuli bioengineering project that would ultimately bring us Sarah Palin. (Image lifted from Adam Gorightly.)

CLICK – What’s that behind you?

DOC'S PAPERBACK CLASSIC'S # 68

Even Santa’s elves are not what they used to be.

STRAIGHT OUTTA R’LYAH

As I face the last Monday in November – and all that might entail – pseudo-synchronius stirrings emanate from the Old Ones in the form of a couple of links sent by our pal Roldo to some new Cthulhu comics and an accidental stumble across writings by the oddly knowledgeable Old Castro who reminds us that…

“…when the stars have come right for the Great Old Ones, "some force from outside must serve to liberate their bodies. The spells that preserved Them intact likewise prevented them from making an initial move." At the proper time, the secret priests would take great Cthulhu from his tomb to revive His subjects and resume his rule of earth....Then mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.”

I have to confess that “a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom” sounds infinitely more attractive that the dismal prognosis for Xmas 2009, shall we commence to chant? All together now…

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.”

(I wish there was a widget to make the above flash on and off. That would be pretty nifty.)

Click here for the comic Why We’re Here
Click here for Who Will Be Eaten First

The secret word is Dementia

DIANA DORS AND GEORGE

And just to accentuate the my general sense of darkness-before-dawn unreality, here is a picture of Diana Dors and a robot called George. For those who frown unknowingly, Diana Dors was Britain’s domestic Marilyn Monroe in the 1950s, and George the robot – more a remote controlled mechanical man – was supposedly built by built by Diana's husband, Denis Hamilton, but it looks a lot like earlier models built by one Captain W. H. Richards. (The whole package is compliments of out goodbuddy HCB.) And on the theme of girls and robots we have a tease of new material being posted on Katy Manning and the Daleks. Stay tuned.

SPACE OPERA (Exotic Chorus)

WE’RE BACK

“Now if we can just make it through Christmas…”

HARDLY THE WISHED-FOR OUTCOME, BUT I’M GLAD WE GOT THAT SORTED

Back in August (August 27th, to be precise, if you want to click back and check) I expressed my alarm at the idea of Tracy Lords playing Deja Thoris in a movie version of Edgar Rice Burroughs “Princess of Mars.” It now takes shape this will indeed the case. Except there will be not one but two movies based on Burroughs Mars novels. Lords’ feature is the rancid-cheapo version that’s out now, and looks, from the trailer, to be even worse that those post-The Road Warrior Italian apocalypse flicks of the 1980s that don’t even have tack-appeal. We are going to have to wait another couple years for the Andrew Stanton/Michael Chabon super de luxe big budget epic John Carter of Mars.

Click here for the cheesy Lords trailer.

The secret word is Barsoom

DON’T BOGART ME

Some remakes can make sense. Check this version of “Don’t Bogart Me” by Paulina Sinaga, her ukulele, and her cat, that Munz sent by. Click here.

TACTICAL NUCLEAR PENGUIN

In Scotland (where else?) there is a beer on the market almost as strong as whiskey. Valerie sent the word…
“A controversial Scottish brewery has launched what it described as the world's strongest beer - with a 32% alcohol content. Tactical Nuclear Penguin has been unveiled by BrewDog of Fraserburgh. BrewDog was previously branded irresponsible for an 18.2% beer called Tokyo, which it then followed with a low alcohol beer called Nanny State.
Managing director James Watt said a limited supply of Tactical Nuclear Penguin would be sold for £30 each. “This is an extremely strong beer; it should be enjoyed in small servings and with an air of aristocratic nonchalance .” Click here for more.

AND TALKING OF BOTH NUKES AND PENGUINS…

The discovery of this poster suddenly and happily made me realise, even though he has left the world in near-ruin, Dreadful George W Bush. is really now a part of all our yesterdays and we don’t have to worry about him any more. Of course we do still have the alien Palin as champion of the dumb and destructive, so pass the fucking Valium and then the scotch. Will we ever win?

HANGING IT UP FOR TURKEY DAY

I was going to press on, posting shit regardless, through this oddly inappropriate holiday. I was feeling unable to connect with even the concept of a holiday of excessive eating and drinking while I’m still trying to figure out if we’re in terminal freefall or what. But everyone seems to be heading home, and Facebook is choked by the idle, so what the decked hall? I can’t fight a massive native flightless bird, thus I leave you to the butterball orgy with some truce facts from Delancey Place, plus a puzzlement as to why there’s no real Thanksgiving music. (I mean, where is Elvis singing “Blue Turkey”?) Be seeing you.

“Author Tony Horwitz muses on the discovery of America after hearing from a Plymouth Rock tour guide named Claire that the most common question from tourists was why the date etched on the rock was 1620 instead of 1492: 'People think Columbus dropped off the Pilgrims and sailed home.' Claire had to patiently explain that Columbus's landing and the Pilgrims' arrival occurred a thousand miles and 128 years apart. ..."By the time the first English settled, other Europeans had already reached half of the forty-eight states that today make up the continental United States. One of the earliest arrivals was Giovanni da Verrazzano, who toured the Eastern Seaboard in 1524, almost a full century before the Pilgrims arrived. ... Even less remembered are the Portuguese pilots who steered Spanish ships along both coasts of the continent in the sixteenth century, probing upriver to Bangor, Maine, and all the way to Oregon. ... In 1542, Spanish conquistadors completed a reconnaissance of the continent's interior: scaling the Appalachians, rafting the Mississippi, peering down the Grand Canyon, and galloping as far inland as central Kansas. ..."The Spanish didn't just explore: they settled, from the Rio Grande to the Atlantic. Upon founding St. Augustine, the first European city on U.S. soil, the Spanish gave thanks and dined with Indians-fifty-six years before the Pilgrim Thanksgiving at Plymouth. ... Plymouth, it turned out, wasn't even the first English colony in New England. That distinction belonged to Fort St. George, in Popham, Maine. Nor were the Pilgrims the first to settle Massachusetts. In 1602, a band of English built a fort on the island of Cuttyhunk. They came, not for religious freedom, but to get rich from digging sassafras, a commodity prized in Europe as a cure for the clap. ..."The Pilgrims, and later, the Americans who pushed west from the Atlantic, didn't pioneer a virgin wilderness. They occupied a land long since transformed by European contact. ... Samoset, the first Indian the Pilgrims met at Plymouth, greeted the settlers in English. The first thing he asked for was beer." -- Tony Horwitz, A Voyage Long and Strange

The secret word is Cranberry

THE FROZDICK FAMILY WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU…

...just remember while you’re feasting – Soylent Green is people!

I TOLD YOU SHE WAS AN ALIEN

(Image supplied by Aeswiren)

KILLING THE BLUE PLANET

I suspect I am making an unseemly big deal about the return to reality. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Worse things exist in this world than Sarah Palin. (Although, sometimes as the she-alien moves, unbidden, across my TV screen, and Frank Rich validates the monster in the NYT, I find them hard to enumerate.) One of those worse things might well be today’s discovery that – while we freely accept the North Pole is rapidly turning into a salt water Slurpee – the South Pole is in much worse shape than we ever previously imagined…

“The East Antarctic icesheet, once seen as largely unaffected by global warming, has lost billions of tonnes of ice since 2006 and could boost sea levels in the future, according to a new study. Published Sunday in Nature Geoscience, the same study shows that the smaller but less stable West Antarctic icesheet is also shedding significant mass.
Scientists worry that rising global temperatures could trigger a rapid disintegration of West Antarctica, which holds enough frozen water to push up the global ocean watermark by about five metres (16 feet).” (Click here for the whole story)

The secret word is Malfunction

DESPERATE FUN WITH POETRY #1

Awake.

Shake dreams from your hair

My pretty child, my sweet one.

Choose the day and choose the sign of your day

The day's divinity

First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon

Couples naked race down by it's quiet sideAnd we laugh like soft, mad children

Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy

The music and voices are all around us.

Choose they croon the Ancient OnesThe time has come again

Choose now, they croon

Beneath the moon

Beside an ancient lake

These are the first three stanzas of Jim Morrison’s “Ghost Dance.” They precede the bits about scattered Indians and the child’s eggshell mind, the ones we all should know. And this, below, is the last. It seems kinda apt to mood, aye?

A city rises from the sea

I had a splitting headache

From which the future's made

Click here for the video.

GRATUITOUS BARDOT

THIS BLOG IS STILL PROTECTED BY...

PART OF THE PROBLEM

Part of the problem is that immediately I adjust my set, this woman will appear. She is becoming inescapable in any situation involving electricity and a screen. The unwanted corporate inanities that appear during the morning boot-up were already discussing whether this Newsweek cover was “sexist.” And I found myself murmuring “Who gives a fuck. She stood still for the fucking picture, and she wants to be our fucking President. Unless Newsweek has adopted Fox-style fakery, she owns her own ass. The real question is who in their right mind would allow this She-Thing-From-The-Warp-of-Evil access to nuclear weapons?” How say you, neighbors? Sexist or reptilian, like the 1983 version of V? Maybe we culture-up an attack rumor that Palin is a pageant-disguised extraterrestrial? Is the nation so insane such a tale might find traction? Nazi flying saucers over Alaska? But a short hop from the deep Draco fissures of Tibet. A scenario starts to unfold, but I fear it is too complex, even for the History Channel and certainly for Glenn Beck who will never graduate from the FEMA Camp.

The secret word is Vril

BUT THE AZTECS HAD A SOLUTION

Sometimes the reentry to dire reality from a Sunday on the lam isn’t easy. When part of the cure for what ails me comes from those dispensaries with green crosses that call themselves “caregivers” here in SoCal, and are spreading with the alarming alacrity of Starbucks in yesteryear, even the focusing of my eyes requires a certain effort of will and a degree of voluntary thought. Yes, 21st century reefer is stronger than 1960’s reefer, but shut up about it. We like it that way. Having said that, I must also note that the Aztecs were sufficiently fucked up for centuries during which they forgot to invent the wheel in any other functional form except the yo-yo. (The image is from the lovely and talented Valerie.)

Click here for The Ramones, in sequence they follow The Three Stooges.

SPACE OPERA

The fat lady is, at the very least, clearing her throat.

SUNDAY ON THE LAM FROM REALITY

The God Particles had raised a pyramid for the purpose of worship, constructed from the dead eyes of burned out media receivers. The nano-thralls were in the bloodstream. We tingled as they commenced the full reconstruction. All too soon the membrane would be compromised and humanity would merge sufficiently with the other/nether so we would wholly cease to signify as an independent entity. Siegfried was definitely doomed, but that hardly mattered any more to anyone but Siegfried. Velma verged on happy. The bites of conversant data were now being delivered in progressively more minute package. They would no longer hold complex concepts or even sustain sub-erotica. For Velma this was a relief. The bastions no longer vibrated and congealed into slow organic decay. They were instantly bypassed and erased from recall functions. The crucial remaining question was simply if it was safe to approach the pyramid? Or was this merely another phase of the entrapment. Maybe we had no remaining rights to be read to us. On the other hand, was it safe to remain where we were, and not to approach the pyramid? Previous God Particles had not taken kindly to rejection. Indeed, they had flamed with the rage of neglected courtesans, burning all before them into pink and black ash, and insisting it was the price of failure. We survivors had to face the fact. We didn’t have the price of failure between us. We barely had enough for a round of drinks. Our options had run out. We approached the pyramid. But we approached it slowly. And with care.

A secret word would not Make Sense

SUNDAY ON THE LAM FROM REALITY 2

In a similar time space, the young women discovered that the product of a mating between narcissism and zero-ethic opulence increasingly emerged as a spawn of recreational homicide.

Click here for The Three Stooges, but in sequence, please.

SUNDAY ON THE LAM FROM REALITY 3

Although technically an alien, even Superman sought the tactile relief of public humiliation in acts of voluntary subjugation that were both invert and abject. He claimed it was part of his assimilation into the culture of his adopted species, and that, on Krypton, it was mandatory. Of course, in the matter of the latter, he was lying.

THE FROZDICK FAMILY

Brunhilde Frozdick was the first to notice the camera.

ALL THINGS ADOLF

The slogan of Disposable, the second Deviants album was “If you can’t trip on garbage, you can’t trip on nothing.” Here’s a new one for the modern world, “If you can’t laugh at Hitler, you may not survive the 21st century.” This was prompted by my latest perusal of the blog of our goodbuddy Adam Gorightly, where I was hipped to The Daily Hitler. It is a truly outrageous (and I use the word very precisely) Adolf funfest – kinda Chaplin meets Lemmy.. But wait…I feel another slogan taking shape within the swirling mist. “If you can’t laugh at history, you are liable to be fucked by it.” Click here for The Daily Hitler.

The secret word is Heil

ALL THINGS BALLARD

Our pal Peromyscus alerts us to Ballard.com. A website that is a massive collection of all things about and adjacent to the work of the great J. G. Ballard.

"At the opening party there was wildly drunken reaction, and what seemed to be barely repressed hostility came bursting out. During the month on show the cars were attacked, daubed with paint and so on. Many visitors stared at them numbly. I don’t think there would be the same reaction today, 35 years later. Since then there have been so many provocations that the audience response to three crashed cars would be much more calm. People are still shockable today — as with the Myra Hindley handprints portrait — but nothing defuses a sense of shock more than the sense that it’s all been done before. Duchamp’s urinal would produce no gasps, in fact I think a [sic] saw it, or a replica, at the Hayward gallery some ago. No-one was looking at it. I said to my girl-friend that the only way to startle the audience would have been to urinate into the thing, which I think someone has now done. I don’t think today’s audiences are all that different. Apart from the Arts Lab regulars, the audience in 1969 were readers of International Times, rather than today’s Time Out, and people interested in any new ideas that might be floating about. They certainly weren’t extras — I was very keen to see their reactions to the cars. The whole thing was a psychological test, to see whether my hunches were sufficiently confirmed for me to go on and write Crash. They were. The show’s object was not to shock, but to prompt a response."

OUR WHACKY AUNT AYN

In her youth, Aunt Ayn had a fairly unorthodox approach to her craft.

SPACE OPERA

CLICK (You shoulda been wearing clothes.)

I DON’T USUALLY SAY A WORD ABOUT SCIENTOLOGY

Here in Hollywood we don’t say anything bad about Scientology. Too many Hollywood stars on the roll of true believers. Too much sinister real estate over on Hollywood Boulevard just west of Sunset Junction. They are also too solid a part of local occult folklore, what with Hubbard hooked up with Jack Parsons, OTO, the Jet Propulsion Lab, the Process, and even Charlie Manson out on the edge. Even a once and future sci-fi writer, who has wondered now and then if forming a religion might be fun, doesn’t like to quote stuff like this slice from Wikipedia for fear the Thetans might get him.

“Xenu was according to Scientology founder and science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard, the dictator of the "Galactic Confederacy" who, 75 million years ago, brought billions of his people to Earth in a DC-8-like spacecraft, stacked them around volcanoes and killed them using hydrogen bombs. Official Scientology dogma holds that the essences of these many people remained, and that they form around people in modern times, causing them spiritual harm. Members of the Church of Scientology widely deny or try to hide the Xenu story. These events are known within Scientology as "Incident II", and the traumatic memories associated with them as The Wall of Fire or the R6 implant. The Xenu story is part of the Church of Scientology's secret "Advanced Technology", normally only revealed to members who have already contributed large amounts of money.”

But while we keep quite in LA, the church is being hammered in Australia…

"The Church of Scientology in Australia was last night defending itself from a scathing attack by a politician using parliamentary privilege. In a senate speech late on Tuesday, independent south Australia senator Nick Xenophon said: “Scientology is not a religious organisation. It is a criminal organisation that hides behind its so-called religious beliefs.” Mr Xenophon questioned Scientology’s tax exemption status and called for it to be investigated by the police and parliament. The senator tabled letters he received from former Scientology members detailing claims of abuse, false imprisonment, forced abortion, embezzlement and the covering up of children’s deaths." (Click here for more)

And in France…

"In Paris last month, a court fined the French branch of the Church of Scientology €600,000 after finding it guilty of fraud, but stopped short of banning the group from operating in the country. Scientology’s Celebrity Centre and its bookshop in Paris, the two branches of its French operations, were fined €600,000 for preying financially on several followers in the 1990s. The court also handed down suspended prison sentences ranging from 10 months to two years and fines of €5,000 to €30,000 to four leaders of the group in France. France regards Scientology as a cult, not a religion, and had prosecuted individual Scientologists before, but this case marked the first time the organisation as a whole was convicted." (Click here for more)

The Secret word is Clear

MORE ON HOW I WAS PHISHED

Our pal Stephan writes on Facebook… "HACKER WARNING! There is a new way to hack your Facebook. A Notification will be sent to you that one of your friends has commented on your status, it will open a new page and tell you to re-enter your Facebook user name and password. The page looks just like the FB login page so be on the look out!! Repost this to your status to let your FaceBook family know."
And Valerie has sent us visual evidence.

A COMMERCIAL

“Will you buy Mick’s new book Zones of Chaos?”
“Will it stop me being a poly-amatory, fur-wearing slut?”
“I very much doubt that.”
“How I get one?
“Click here.”

DOC WAS PHISHED!

Late last night I was phished via Facebook. So, instead of posting, I’ve been clearing up the mess, changing passwords, running virus scans (and sleeping.) If the little bastards leave me alone, I should be back to normal tomorrow.

The secret word is Decimate