Starring Cheech and Chong

Today's AP (the All Propaganda news service) headline: "Police: Suspects Planned NYC Attack." (http://news.yahoo.com/police-boston-suspects-planned-attack-york-182015679.html. My local paper's version was a bit different. Sue me). Seems the Chechen brothers were bent on mayhem and murder again, this time along the Great White Way! Oh no!

But, then you read this:  "...in what they portrayed as a chilling, spur-of-the-moment scheme that fell apart when the brothers realized the car they had hijacked was low on gas."

In other words, this "plan" had all the highlights of stoners piling into a 1973 Pinto at two o'clock in the morning in an effort to score some pizza. Hijinks ensue. As if you needed any more evidence of the hubristic, self-absorbed my-life-is-a-movie character of these two idiots, it was both of them thinking that they, in a stolen vehicle, with their faces plastered all over the world, could actually pull something spur-of-the-moment like this off.

But according to Mayor McSoda of New York City: "We don't know if we would have been able to stop the terrorists had they arrived here from Boston," the mayor said. "We're just thankful that we didn't have to find out that answer."

What?

You mean, the overwhelming resources of the best anti-terror unit in the country, the NYPD, along with the sophisticated technologies, theories, and capabilities of the entire Federal Counterterrorist apparatus, all mobilized since the Marathon bombings, wasn't sure it could handle a couple of half wits?

Oh. Good. God.

And these very same people want to take care of your health, your education, your retirement, your job. They assure us, with magical words written on parchment so therefore it must be true and real, that we do not need our guns, our own doctors, nor to concern ourselves with what is taught in our classrooms or amass savings to stave off destitution because they, with degrees from Harvard, have developed a superior ability to handle every aspect of you peasants' lives.

But, yet, two morons with homemade hand grenades baffle them.

Okay. Thanks, anyway. But I think I'll take care of all this stuff myself.

Chickens Coming Home to Roost

So, Chechens. With pressure cooker bombs.

What do you think caused it? Well, let's follow liberal logic: while walking innocently down a Wal Mart (corporation! grrr!) aisle, they accidentally brushed against a display of cookware and were filled with rage and the urge to commit mayhem. So they bought the pressure cooker weapons of mass destruction and went after the Boston Marathon. Ban pressure cookers! Ban Wal Mart! And universal background checks for all caterers!

Because, you see, it is the object, not the person.

Or, how about this? Enraged by the racist patrimony of the white male overlord capitalist running dog lackey class, the two peace-loving legal immigrants decided to show eeevil conservatives that they, as immigrants, were just as legal as illegal immigrants. Take that, Boston Marathon, which is a real white person event!

Because, you see, racism justifies any kind of response. Any kind.

Or, maybe they were showing solidarity with their illegally detained Guantanamo brethren, or protesting the waste of funds that should go to the poor instead of elite privileged marathon runners flaunting their prosperity (poor people can't run marathons, man! It's a race just finding food!), or maybe they didn't like the exploitation of police dogs and every other desperate leftist Marxist liberal Democrat excuse you can muster.

Or maybe, let's try this: they are a couple of evil bastards, filled with the contempt for human life that only Islam seems to generate, and in their hubris, decided to kill and maim others.

And hey, Barack, when you tell Medyedev that you'll have more flexibility, America gets bumped up the Chechen enemy list.

We're All Gay Now

According to the news and Hollywood and polls and Republican leadership, that is. I doubt it. Methinks there is, instead, some creative polling going on, along with wishful thinking and the normal idiocy that is a hazard of being young. Which is puzzling, because, really, gay? Are you serious?

I put homosexuality in the same category as pedophilia, incest, bestiality, whatever we used to think was degenerate behavior (I say "used to think" because there's been some movement along those lines, too). It's like marrying a goat. And this does not make me homophobic. Not in the least. I have absolutely no fear of homosexuals. I am, instead, rather contemptuous of them.

Call me, then, homoscornic.

My attitude can be summed up in Sam Kinison's rather poignant question: How can a man look at another man's hairy ass and find love? Seriously, how? Men, at best, are just functional, while women, even the worst of them, are works of art. Stand a naked man and a naked women next to each other and note where the symmetry and beauty lie. And which parts actually fit together, indeed, seem to be DESIGNED to fit together. With ease. Not with a lot of effort and Vaseline.

I regard homosexuality as nothing more than arrested development. Gay guys never really got past the "Girls are icky" stage, and remember their middle school circle jerks with great fondness. They developed such a regard for ejaculation that they are willing to find another man equally in love with his and do unspeakable things to each other in order to achieve it. And they think that's love.

It isn't. No one over 14 mistakes orgasm with love...well, at least they didn't before the 30 year effort to reduce all relationships to mere orgasm. And since we all now believe that all relationships are measured primarily by the amount and level of sex contained therein, then a homosexual's particular brand of ejaculation is just one shade of gray. So why can't they get married?

Why can't brother and sister? Brother and goat?

Oh, tut, says the gay lobby, a goat or a child can't enter into a contract so marriage with them would never happen.

Yeah? Just give it some time.

And, please understand, because I am scornful of you doesn't mean I want to put you gay guys in jail or stone you or burn you at the stake or anything. You wanna be gay, knock yourselves out. Broadway is a better place because of it. Set up house together. Have a ball. Or two.

But don't think for a second I will ever consider you legitimate, even if the Supreme Court loses what's left of its mind and sanctions your marriage. You can't make a horse a Senator. Lots of horses' asses are, but no actual horses. And no gay guy will ever be anything more to me than a guy in love with another guy's hairy ass.

Now, lesbians. You're okay. Just take a lot of pictures.