The Plastic Kingdom

Recently I spoke with a friend who extolled the virtues of Disneyworld. Such praise would be like you or I praising our rapist because he had such a beautiful dick.

I went to Disneyworld in 1996. Granted, I was not five years old when I accompanied a group of friends that summer, but I expected more for my gas-guzzling trek down there, the $42,000 I spent on a park pass, the $1,500 meals, and the $12.95 I forked over to use the goddamn bathroom. To put it simply, I expected to be entertained.

The very first thing one notices when entering Disneyworld is how the place is Satanically cut off from the rest of reality. Literally, we spent 14 hours driving there through torrential downpours, only to see it suddenly stop as we pulled through the gates of Disney. The sky parted, the sun burst from the clouds, and little bluebirds flitted about whistling songs. I knew we were in trouble.

I literally RAN to the theme parks with my friends, eager to feast upon this gigantic park filled with exciting rides and wondrous shows. After all, had I not spent nearly three years' worth of wages for the experience? To my dismay, however, the rides at Disneyworld lack a key quality needed for any kind of excitement: discernible motion. Every ride at Disney consists of the Idiot - in this case, me - sitting in a car/boat. Said car/boat moves very slowly through a trough of water or on rails past scenes of animatronic robots singing songs. Or simply waving. After approximately 20 rides, I began plotting animatronic murder.

A few days passed, every one more disappointing than the last. Rides billed as "a white water adventure" turned out to be a boat slipping past creepy robots waving from behind "trees," all shouting in pre-recorded unison, "Welcome to Holland!" I began to hallucinate. I lost track of reality, and I started to question everything; a bench that appeared to be real wood proved to be plastic. If I saw an animal, I looked for wires protruding out of its ass. I wanted rain and mosquitos to verify the reality I vaguely remembered prior to arriving. Instead, humans in giant Disney character costumes kept touching and grabbing me, every one of them with a credit card reader in their hands.

Finally, we reached Epcot. I remembered Epcot primarily for the giant, silver, geodesic sphere in the center of the place. As a child, I always imagined the wonders that might be contained within that beautiful orb. What could be inside? Aliens? Candy? My childish imagination never let go of its dreams about it. So imagine my excitement as I stood in line at the Sphere, about to enter this holy place. My fears returned as I was placed into another little car. Slowly, the car ascended into the Sphere. Robots acted out various scenes in the advancement of telecommunications. I thought to myself, "Why on earth are we learning about telecommunications HERE??" At the end I found out: As our car came to a stop, we were faced with an unambiguous message in bright red neon: "AT+T". A fucking commercial! The beautiful, silver Sphere of Disney is a fucking commercial!

I stumbled into the light of the Disney-made day, and vowed to never return.

Ever since this rape occurred to me, friends have insisted that I was too old to enjoy the place. Perhaps. However, a place that presents itself as a Paradise can only be one to those who are wealthy and privileged. The entire park is a money funnel, designed to siphon huge amounts of cash from the wallets of the most cash-strapped families: young families. Or rather, young white, middle-class families.

I think the idea of a trash-free, clean fantasy world is a beautiful one. Just give me some fun with a theme park. I like some bang for my buck, as you all know.

Thanks Disney!

Repetition Makes It True

I know it seems like I have been focusing on more political stuff lately. I just ... well, I just find it hard to believe my eyes and ears every day when I watch world events. Can this really be happening all around us?

Surgery is being performed on the minds of people all over the world. The surgeon is the current administration. The scalpel is fear. The surgical technique is repetition, which cuts through layers of belief and moral safeguards until the mind is fully exposed and ready to be altered.

I found this incredibly hard to watch:



We are being pummeled into submission by the repetition of words.
We are being pummeled into submission by the repetition of words.
We are being pummeled into submission by the repetition of words.

Accomodate What?

What is this little gizmo, you ask? Why, it's "The Accomodator!"

Truly, I think we can officially say that there is no sex toy left to invent.

The trip to the porno shop to purchase this must be an excruciating one. A long time ago, a guy could break out in a cold sweat trying to buy condoms, or perhaps a leather strap. Try dropping this sucker on the counter without fainting, shaking uncontrollably, or running full-speed out the front door. Thank goodness for the internet. No longer do we need dark sunglasses and a trenchcoat to get an "Accomodator." We can sit in our undies and order it unashamedly, and then imagine having a dick for a chin as we beat off into our hand. At least that's what I did when I ordered mine.

Frankly, though, I have no idea how this thing even works. Let's imagine you're a guy (some need more imagination than others), and you want to lovingly and tenderly eat your wife's slit (puke). I guess that contraption goes in her ass??? And believe me, you do not want to fuck her pussy from behind with this thing strapped to your face; you're liable to get a snout-full of stink.

The only reasonable use for this grotesque product might come on Halloween, when you go to an adult Halloween party dressed as a dildohead. Just please do not wear it around the neighborhood searching for candy. Otherwise, the only people you will scare are the police, and they have bigger and harder sticks than the dick on your face with which to beat you.

See y'all on Halloween! Damn, my accomodator's gettin' hard just thinkin' about it!

When Left Might Be Right

In the wake of the Clinton finger-pointing episode, chattering heads from both sides of the debate have weighed in with their opinions, their combined weight measuring approximately .0005 ounces.

One opinion comes from Ken Olbermann, who has spent the past few years eagerly gutting George Bush like a freshly-caught 10 pound bass. The thing I appreciate about Olbermann, aside from his perfect coif and stern demeanor, is that he actually FEELS something. He does not simply mouth the party line. He truly believes what he says, and does so with a literateness and passion sorely lacking in almost every politician and journalist today.

Listen to this perfectly constructed rant:



Olbermann might not be right, but I hope he is. The world needs more people like him willing to stand up for truth and justice with such unflinching courage and intelligence.

Kick to the Hind(sight)

Another lovely episode in American politics excreted explosively over the weekend, as former President Bill Clinton visited the hive of scum and villainy, Fox News, to promote his new Clinton Climate Initiative (i.e. vote for my wife in 2008).

No, they didn't have an impromptu makeout session.

Host Chris Wallace, shifting uncomfortably on top of the mind control device Rupert Murdoch inserted in his anus earlier in the evening, tap danced around the Initiative in order to slither into the following "reader question":

"Why didn't you do more to connect the dots and go after Osama Bin Laden (during your Presidency)?"

Clinton had the look of someone who had just been caught with his pants down in the Oval Office. Again.

Here is the classy, Gojira-like battle that ensued, in all of its partisan-screeching glory:



Feel the love?

Sure, hindsight certainly sees with clearer accuracy than, say, a red-eyed, pot smoking Rhodes scholar at three in the morning. The Republican machinery wishes to grind Clinton's legacy into a fine powdery dust, invoking the catastrophe of 9/11 in order to castrate Clinton for not seeing the unforseeable.

Clinton sadly, even remorsefully, tells the truth in one instance: "I tried, and I failed."

The Rush Limbaugh crowd of guffawing, 300-pound dittoheads will no doubt be playing that soundbite for years to come, reminding themselves of the utter incompetence of the Democrats while lauding the overbearing, master-race sensibilities of the Republicans. However, it's hard to remember the last time a politician admitted his major mistake in such stark, unflinching terms.

One thing we do need to remember, though: we ALL failed on September 11, 2001. Democrats and Republicans.

Sure, the Democratic White House in the nineties literally had Osama Bin Laden in their gunsights, but it was a different world then. It simply was not part of the game plan of the United States to start assassinating key political/ religious figures. That is why George H.W. Bush (oooh, a Republican, even!) didn't assassinate Saddam Hussein at the end of Desert Storm.

Republicans forget that for the first eight months of Bush's first term his administration officiated from a ranch in Texas. Bush did a little fishing and tree chopping, walked along dusty roads with his dog, and occasionally shot animals/people/air. The dire warnings left behind concerning bin Laden did not stifle Bush's vacation plans in any way.

The point is not to belittle Bush; genetics have already done the job in far more efficient fashion. Nor is it to harp on the failings of Clinton, who is a man far more intelligent than Bush, and also more of a liar.

We all have regrets in our life, moments when we wish we could see all the facts of the inrushing future and make a better choice than we did. Clinton probably did not act with the authority his office demanded of him in the nineties. Bush certainly did not heed critical warnings in the months prior to 9/11, with the attacks looming unknowingly over us all.

We look back, and we see their failings. BOTH men. BOTH parties.

Casting blame in hindsight is not 20/20. It is 0/0. Nobody wins, nobody cooperates, and everyone loses.

The Movie Questionnaire

This is for my boy at The Communist Tome

I love movies. They are magic when they work. Unfortunately, fucktards run the movie business, resulting in terrible remakes and sequels of worthless, unspeakable shit.

And yet, here we are, making lists of our favorites. The Hollywood shitheads thank you and I for our money. Well, let's just say they like our money.

Here are my answers to The Movie Questionnaire:

1. The last movie you saw in a theater, and current-release movie you still want to see:

See my review in the previous post. "The Illusionist" was the last movie I saw in a theater, which was last night. Please don't make me relive it.

As far as current releases, I guess I have a curiosity factor regarding "Jackass 2," even though those that know me know I would probably despise it (see my post on Viva La Bam if you have any doubts entitled "Lowest Common Denominator"). This has been a long, quality-free summer at the theaters.

2. The last movie you rented/purchased for home viewing:

Recently I ended up at WalMart and purchased "Starship Troopers" for $5.00. This is a guilty pleasure for me, I am ashamed to say. What's not to like? There are dead bodies piled up everywhere, various bodily fluids spurting endlessly, and perfectly-formed tits and ass around every corner. Paul Verhoeven, the director of brilliant satires such as "Robocop," as well as smutty trash like "Showgirls," knows how to push all the right buttons. Plus, it has a warning about fascism, which seemed far-fetched in 1997, but seems timely here in 2006. PERFECT!

3. A movie that made you laugh out loud:

It's hard to make me laugh out loud, so only a few movies really stand out. When I was a kid, "Parlor, Bedroom and Bath" starring Buster Keaton made me laugh uncontrollably. In more recent times, "Kingpin" might be the winner. Bill Murray's performance as Big Ernie McKracken is Oscar-worthy, and in my mind one of the greatest comedic performances of all time. The movie has one of the best-edited comedic sequences I have ever seen, involving Woody Harrelson and his disgusting landlady, that will never leave your mind once you have seen it. The movie also contains the best kick to the crotch in motion picture history...not sure if that is award-worthy, but it deserves some praise. Any movie with the line, "Half the dresses you own you need two hairdos to wear" can't be all that bad.

4. A movie that made you cry:

I will name two, at the risk of sounding like a pussy:

"Edward Scissorhands" makes me cry every time I see it. There are few films that are so beautiful and sweet-natured. Danny Elfman's perfect score is so haunting and magical that I sometimes mist up just from the first few bars of it. This is Burton at his very peak of his powers...too bad a shit cake like "Planet of the Fucking Apes" follows this on his resume.

"Remains of the Day" might be the perfect unrequited love story. Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson are perfect as English servants unable to express their true feelings for one another. The scene in Hopkins' bedroom between the two is utterly fantastic, expressed soley through their eyes and whispers, and cannot ever be forgotten. The ending of this movie feels completely true, which is rare for a love story, and is heartbreaking. If you haven't seen it, do so NOW! It is slowly paced, but it rewards at the end.

5. A movie that was a darling of the critics, but you didn't think lived up to the hype:

I disagree with "The Phantom Menace" because it hardly qualifies as a darling of the critics.

I rarely agree with critics, and even some recent films haven't lived up to their hype ("The Illusionist" and "Little Miss Sunshine" among them) ...but of recent times, I must say I was extremely disappointed with Peter Jackson's "King Kong." Critics were ejaculating all over themselves to hurl superlatives at Jackson's follow-up to the "Rings" trilogy, but face the facts: "King Kong" was a marvelous technical achievement, but everything else, from script to performance to direction, was completely off. It's ludicrous to show a group of humans surviving a brontosaurus stampede UNHARMED...it's completely retarded to show Ann on top of the Empire State Building in the dead of winter IN A NEGLIGEE, and it's unreasonable to expect audiences to sit through three hours of contrived dialogue and situations that do not pay off.

6. A movie that you thought was better than the critics:

"Mommie Dearest." I own this one for a reason. This movie was DESTROYED by critics when it was released, but they were wrong. Faye Dunaway is BRILLIANT as Joan Crawford, regardless of how close she came to portraying the actual woman. Taken as fiction, this movie has possibly two or three of the best camp moments in film history. You will never, ever look at wire hangers the same way again. "Don't fuck with me, fellas!!!" is a line delivered with enough fire to level small towns. Not to be missed in any way. Quite literally, the scene in Christina's bedroom (pictured above) is one of my all-time favorite scenes, perfectly acted and edited. It is ferocious, glossy, terrifying, and hilarious. WATCH IT NOW!

7. Favorite animated movie:

While the South Park movie remains one of the best moments in animated film history simply for being ground-breaking, I must go with either "Toy Story 2," "The Incredibles," or perhaps "Bambi." What can be said about "Toy Story 2" except that it surpasses a brilliant original? "The Incredibles" made me audibly ask why studios cannot make movies like that in live action - brilliant characters and a final 45 minutes of action that leaves you breathless. "Bambi" might be the most striking and beautiful of the hand-drawn Disney films. Try not to cry when Bambi's mother dies. I dare you.

8. Favorite Disney Villain:

Michael Eisner.

9. Favorite movie musical:

Musicals suck for the most part, except for "Victor/Victoria." The screenplay is fun and full of quotable lines. The songs are catchy and fun. The setting is different. IT HAS JULIE ANDREWS FOR GOD'S SAKE! Her voice can pierce the coldest heart, and it certainly shines here. Add to that wonderful supporting performances from James Garner, Leslie Ann Warren, and Robert Preston (an Academy Award Winner here), and you have a perfect slapstick/musical comedy that will have you singing for a long time. Though not as well as Julie.

10. Favorite movies of all-time (up to five):

I hate these lists.

Okay, I'm over it. Here's my shot:

5. Alien/Aliens - perfect monster, perfect heroine, perfect script, perfect director.

4. Touch of Evil - Welles' lost masterpiece. Farther ahead than Kane.

3. Raiders of the Lost Ark - Has 3 of the best action sequences ever. Best performance by Harrison Ford. Possibly Spielberg's best direction.

2. Empire Strikes Back - Defines blockbuster excellence on all fronts. Watch the asteroid chase in a movie theater and try to be unmoved. Easily John Williams' best score EVER.

1. Citizen Kane - The critics are correct. This movie was made only ten years after sound was INVENTED for film. It is still ahead of its time. I still cannot believe the brilliant, insightful script and the note-perfect performance by a 25 year old Welles in astounding make-up. The gold standard, easily.

honorable mention -

"Nosferatu" by Murnau and "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" by Robert Weine. Silent films are hard to be completely overwhelmed by, but these two are brilliant. There has never been a scarier humanoid monster in film than Count Orlock of "Nosferatu," and there has never been better art direction in film than "Caligari." Both are light-years ahead of their contemporaries.

That is my list. Hope it helps.

"The Illusionist" - a review

A nineteenth century world of creaky wooden floors, flickering lantern lights, rough cobblestone streets, and misty, dusk-dampened forests should provide the perfect backdrop for a story of magic and mystery. As a work of cinematography, the new film from the producers of "Crash" entitled "The Illusionist" certainly captures the spooky poetry of a society teetering on the line between the magical and the scientific. Unfortunately most of the other disciplines behind this lushly photographed movie fall far short of transporting.

The film, directed by "Interview With The Assassin" writer/director Neil Burger, recounts the early life and rise to prominence of a powerful illusionist named Eisenheim (Edward Norton), who may or may not actually have truly awesome powers. After an early teenage romance with an aristocratic young girl named Sophie (Jessica Beil) ends abruptly, Eisenheim travels the world, eventually arriving in Vienna and rising to fame for his amazing feats of magic. This brings him to the attention of police inspector Uhl (Paul Giamatti), a born-poor man with illusions of grandeur serving the crown prince Leopold (Rufus Sewell), a pompous serpent who expects total loyalty. Leopold attends one of Eisenheim's performances with his wife, who happens to be Eisenheim's long lost love, Sophie. You can see where this is going.

The direction by Burger hovers around adequate, with some framed tracking shots specifically repeated without any hint of reason. While several of the sequences highlighting Eisenheim's magic act achieve a sort of breathlessness, the overuse of CGI in these sequences calls attention to their phoniness. Someday it might be possible to have a CGI sequence that doesn't require the camera spinning around the effect in order to show off its 3D quality, but as "The Illusionist" shows, that time has not yet arrived. In other technical qualities, the film maintains a level consistent with the stunning, tableau-esque cinematography, although one sequence reveals a stone bridge with an obviously painted-on fascade that proves to be a distracting, unfortunate choice.

As for the performances, Giamatti, as the disillusioned police inspector, gives the film its only truly memorable character. Uhl, a man disappointed with life and fascinated by magic, is an easily identifiable person. Giamatti's eyes speak wonders as he watches Eisenheim. The rest of the cast peforms the material adequately, with perhaps the biggest disappointment coming from Norton. Norton has the ability to channel tremendous energy in his work, as we have seen in such films as "American History X" and "The Fight Club." Here, Norton reduces his natural forces to glowering stares, coasting primarily on his effortless charisma. While that certainly adds mystery to Eisenheim, it fails to elicit much else in audiences.

The true failing of the film is in the story and screenplay. "The Illusionist" is based loosely on a short story of the same name by Steven Milhouser. As translated for the screen by Burger, the film becomes a long string of cliches, wrapping around a central mystery that will surprise nobody except M. Night Shyamalan. One line spoken by Eisenheim to Sophie after their reunion caused my audience to groan audibly and shift uncomfortably in their seats. Additionally, the magic performed by Eisenheim is truly fantastic and completely impossible unless he is actually a supernatural person - yet the film never addresses this power or the illusion used to create it. The central question of whether Eisenheim's tricks were real or invented is left unanswered, leaving the audience unsatisfied. The ending, obvious from the halfway point in the film, hinges upon contrivances shown a million times in better movies, except with even more implausiblities.

"The Illusionist" has the right idea: a movie about magic set in a world of firelight and shadows. However, when making a movie intended to transport audiences with feats of magic, it is always wise to not show the strings behind the illusion.

New World Disorder

The above image well pictures the feelings of most Americans about their country: patriotism, unfaltering strength, and unwavering commitment. Even in a traumatic post-9/11 America, subtle doubts surrender to a quiet optimism and hope for a stable and successful future for their nation.

This is how the rest of the world views America:



Such a scenario, a bizarre and grotesque caricature to Americans, might be instead a strategy of U.S. foreign policy in the coming years. Led by insidious and shadowy groups of individuals in the government, the United States has begun the trek into an heretofore unknown and unthinkable concept: total world domination.

One such group leading the charge is The Project For A New American Century. Founded in 1997, PNAC has called for "an increase in U.S. military spending," as well as "strengthening ties with U.S. allies and challenging regimes hostile to U.S. values and beliefs." Operating under the belief that "American leadership is good for both America and the world," PNAC states categorically and unashamedly in its charter the following edict:

As the 20th century draws to a close, the United States stands as the world's pre-eminent power. Having led the West to victory in the Cold War, America faces an opportunity and a challenge: Does the United States have the vision to build upon the achievements of past decades? Does the United States have the resolve to shape a new century favorable to American principles and interests?

From its inception, PNAC routinely badgered the Clinton administration to take a course of action to topple Saddam Hussein's "regime," which they considered to be a threat to both oil interests and national security. Once George Bush was elected/seized control, many PNAC members found their way into governmental offices, such as Jeb Bush and Donald Rumsfeld. These card-carrying PNAC members now control key positions within the United States government, and their influence is growing.

Few Americans ever hear about PNAC in their news reports, but they see its influence in the dangerous world events escalating on the nightly news. PNAC's unrelenting and unwavering commitment to globalizing American life through diplomacy or force has taken her military forces into hostile quagmires of guerrilla and outright warfare. The Iraq war, once called on by PNAC, was force-fed into the throats of the United Nations, and then foisted upon the peoples of the world without factual basis and provocation. Now Iran and other Middle Eastern countries regularly arise in the news as the next targets of a so-called "war on terror."

So dangerous and complex is this underground network of PNAC, that some within the country blame this group for the attacks of September 11, 2001. Even this monumental event, planned or not, fits into the dogma of PNAC and her members:

"Further, the process of transformation, even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event like a new Pearl Harbor."
-PNAC, "Rebuilding America's Defenses" - September, 2000

While national security and continued prosperity are legitimate concerns for any administration, the unabashed seizing of world control and policing it can only bring ostracism, and even worse, outright violence against the United States. And while American military forces might be the strongest in the world, it can ill afford to battle the entire world for supremacy. Heading down this course can only lead to ruin.

For more on the plans and aspirations of PNAC, please read:
http://www.newamericancentury.org/

What Lies Beneath

Anyone with a brain and a nanobyte of sense looks at the human race and sees vast, untapped potential. So many possibilities, and such tragic waste. Yet, as science continues to examine quantum physics, the possibilities become mind-bogglingly endless, and the waste becomes unforgivable because the answer was inside of us the entire time.

Quantum physics, in its bare-bones definition, examines and predicts the behavior of energy and matter. What does this have to do with us? We, of course, are merely bundles of energy that are compressed into matter. This is especially true of the human brain, a startlingly complex network where matter and energy mingle harmoniously.

Previous physical sciences taught us that particles of matter acted independently of each other, yet similarly with each other under similar circumstances. For instance, a penny dropped from the World Trade Center (sign of the cross) would fall at the same rate as any other penny dropped under the same set of circumstances (weight, wind speed, etc.).

Quantum physics, however, shows that those pennys can act in relation to one another, even from great distances away. Additionally, the act of observing and measuring the fall of the penny changes the outcome.

Watch this short clip from "What The Bleep Do We Know," which explains this phenomena:



If particles, or pennies, can be affected by each other in this way, then they are connected to each other. And if they are connected to each other, then other, more complex systems of matter and energy are connected also.

Which means that the energies generated by our brains do not simply flicker inside of our skulls like a cheap light from WalMart. They affect the energies of the thoughts of other people, and the interactions of others around us, and they with us.

Ooh, mind control. Cool.

It's not really like that, but the possibilities are there. A good friend of mine named (Paul) told me this story, which I will condense for you, the dear readership (names have been changed to protect the hypnotized): (Paul) was watching television one afternoon when he saw a guy hosting a talk show. Paul (who enjoys philandering with boys as much as girls) thought the guy was attractive, and thought to himself, "I want to meet that guy someday." Later that evening, Paul went to a bar. At the bar, the bartender recommended that Paul go to a strip club later on. Paul agreed. While at the strip club, the host of the talk show stepped onto a stage. Paul locked eyes with the talk show host. The talk show host came over to Paul and started talking with him. Eventually, the talk show host asked Paul to accompany him to his apartment, where they had sex. In one day, Paul made his wish come true!

Many would instantly equate this with "luck" or "coincidence." However, quantum physics reasons that our minds can influence energies across great distances.

Not only might it explain this bizarre story, but it might serve to explain a host of strange, inexplicable occurrences in the world. Think about 9/11 for a moment. It was a horrific attack, meticulously planned for several years in advance. Did the world reveal the attack in advance (besides the obvious stuff that the Bush administration chose to ignore)? YES:

• The band Dream Theater planned to release a triple live album entitled "Live Scenes from New York" on September 11, 2001 . Its album cover art was the skyline of New York in flames.
• The band Coup released an album in the months prior to 9/11 with the World Trade Center on its cover exploding in half.
• In the summer of 2001, a pilot was filmed entitled "The Lone Gunmen," in which commercial airliners are hijacked by terrorists and flown into the World Trade Towers.
• In June of 2001, an album was released in Europe by Eyeon entitled "Tele Trieste" had a cover featuring the World Trade Center and two planes flying into it:

• A band entitled I am The World Trade Center released an album in July of 2001. The eleventh track on the album is entitled "September."
• An Egyptian picture calendar had for the month of September a crashing passenger plane with Manhattan as the backdrop.
• On September 9, 2001, a Brooklyn freshman was staring out of his classroom window at lower Manhattan. When his teacher, Antionette DiLorenzo, asked him what he was staring at, he told the class that the following week the World Trade Center would no longer be there.
• The lottery numbers for New York on September 11, 2002 were 9-1-1

Are all of these mere coincidences, or are they events generated by the quantum effects of tremendous, earth-shaking psychic energy? Quantum physics demonstrates that such phenomena are not only possible, but that they are probable.

No longer the old standby of mystic, new-age philosophy garbage, quantum physics offer humanity the opportunity to realize tremendous, unlimited potential. This ability, this eventuality, was even hinted at long ago in ancient philosophies and religions of the world. Note this curious quote from "God" in the Old Testament of the Bible:

"Look! They are one people and there is one language for them all, and this is what they may have in mind to do. Why, now there is nothing that they may have in mind that will be unattainable for them."

- Genesis 11:6

Perhaps it's time we opened our minds - literally - and turn possibilities into probabilities. Just a thought.

Lowest Common Denominator

About two years ago, I threw my television into a dumpster.

My primary reason for doing this stemmed from the loss of time spent in front of it. The secondary reason for doing this, closely related to the first, had to do with the fact that everything on television is a SHIT CAKE.

After two years of blissful, television-free living, I happened to watch it recently when I dropped in on my parents. Like most people, they have multiple televisions in various rooms of the house. They have DISH network, DVD players, VCR's, and even a handy-dandy video tape rewinding machine. At any given moment, they are ready to be entertained in a variety of formats.

Unfortunately, very little on television constitutes entertainment. At the risk of sounding elitist, television is absolutely worthless for the mind. "Reality" television has taken over - replacing carefully scripted dramas, or even well-acted fluff comedies (I never thought I would see the day when one might long for the subtleties of "Three's Company"). Nowadays, a television show consists of a cameraman pointing his lens in the direction of any talentless moron. The lowest point in television history has to be this show right here:



This television show is entitled "Viva La Bam," starring a giddy, psychotic man-child named Bam Margera, his idiotic friends, and his unfortunate, ineffective family. The show consists of Bam slapping his father, pushing his mother onto beds, humiliating his semi-retarded uncle, and destroying things. EVERY FUCKING WEEK.

Some reality shows have some sort of reward at the end of them, some nugget of worthiness that justifies its existence. "American Idol," despite destroying American music and celebrity, at least provides the audience the opportunity to have a hand in the ruination of their own culture. "The Real World," perhaps the first reality show, began its life as a show that encouraged the tolerance of the differences in others...before it degenerated into a "let's get naked, jump in a hot tub, fuck each other, and become STARS" celebrity-hungry mentality. And "Survivor" at least poses some interesting questions about survival and working together to overcome adversity when it isn't parading naked fags on a beach.

But what do shows such as "Viva La Bam" or "Jackass" do for anyone other than Bam Margera's ego or pocketbook? What do these shows tell us about the moronic fucktards watching it? Bam Margera should never have made two cents in the entertainment industry. He apparently has nothing to offer the human race other than farting noises, slapping people, and getting naked. Oh yeah, and like bacteria, Bam Margera also converts food products into waste matter. And oxygen into carbon dioxide. FASCINATING! And yet, Bam Margera is richer than you and I put together.

No wonder people from other countries want to fly planes into our buildings and kill us. They simply want to do to us what we would do for a loved one in a vegetative state - put us out of our misery.

My friend Scott had an idea for a reality show several years ago, and if the current state of television is any indication, this idea will be showing on your television screens very soon. Scott thought we should clear out the prisons and put the prisoners on an island, much like "Survivor." Then, the convicts would fight each other for survival. The winner (i.e. survivor) could live freely on the island. The whole thing would be televised for our "enjoyment," the proceeds from the show going to educate and improve the infrastructure of the country.

I have one small request. Put Bam Margera on the island for crimes against the intelligence of humanity. That spoiled pussy would be dead in five minutes, and I could turn off my television and live in peace.

Die, Bam Margera!!!!!!

Fuck Vonage

Damn phone companies. I swear they are trying to put me in the cold, hard ground.

For the last four years I have been an unhappy customer of Cingular Wireless. How could I ever be happy? My "plan" with Cingular, quoted to me at $79.99 a month, has never cost me less than $130.00. EVER. I have 1350 anytime minutes, free nights and weekends, and 200 text messages included in this plan. What apparently is not included in this plan is the sixty dollar cell phone usage donation, which they call "taxes" and "local usage fees." Basically, the "plan" is designed to destroy me.

The plan was succeeding, so I decided to cancel my cell phone subscription and move to a land-line courtesy of Vonage. Everything seemed perfect during my initial conversation with a pleasant young lady. The plan would cost $19.99, and that includes free answering, free caller ID, and free long distance. All they would need, she said, was up to twenty days to transfer my 314-397-2878 cell phone number to Vonage.

That was on August 3, 2006.

Today (September 18, 2006 - 15 days after my 30 day money back guarantee expired) I spent three long hours screaming at people in various chains of command at Vonage. The reason for my, um, displeasure arose from the fact that they never transferred my number, which today was suspended by Cingular due to non-payment. You see, since Vonage never transferred my number as they promised, Cingular kept me as an (unhappy) customer and continued my cell phone service. Which means, if I want a phone, I need to pay another $130.00 to Cingular to restart my service.

So I explained, first calmly and then at hurricane strength, that Vonage owed Cingular $130.00 because they didn't hold up their end of our agreement. Due to their utter incompetence, I went into another billing cycle and became liable for that payment. I tried to use every avenue of rational thought, including blind-rage obscenities, to explain to everyone there that I would never have owed that money if they had performed their job correctly.

They, of course, disagreed. While they admit that they did absolutely nothing correct, they can do nothing more than offer me a $10.00 credit on my account with them. The $130.00?? Well, I bet you can guess the person they suggested should pay that amount (HINT: not them).

The good people at Vonage can french kiss my ass. I would rather use carrier pidgeons, bird shit and all, before I would ever use their unprofessional service. The idiot college dropouts that obviously run their "phone company" out of their parents' basement should not earn one damn dime for their shocking incompetence.

This is the 21st century, Vonage! There are too many options out there to be so terrible at your job!

So if any of you need me, send up a smoke signal.

P.S. Go fuck yourself, Vonage!!!!!!!

A Child Shall Lead Us

People seem to have interesting ideas of friendship. Most of these ideas are wrong.

The most often recited definition of friendship is "a person who is always there when you need them." No, that's the Red Cross, or if you believe their ads, State Farm insurance (it's a lie - don't fall for it). The people who believe that are the ones that you never hear from until five minutes before they need you to help them move something.

Remember when we were kids? Friendship meant everything to us, yet we never had to say a word about its importance.

Even during high school, with raging hormones and our own private hell of metamorphosis distracting us, friendship retained its power and strength. Friends were not conveniences then; we didn't look at our friends like they were grants from an unknown institution that we could withdraw from endlessly. Friends were EVERYTHING.

What changes, then, as we grow older? Certainly starting careers and families changes the basic structure in our lives. We lose time and energy. We become distracted.

But it seems so odd to me that as we grow into adults, most of us lose interest in being a true friend. And I don't mean HAVING true friends; I think we all want a true friend in our lives, due to their obvious benefits. I mean BEING a true friend. It takes work. It has risk. However, the benefits to others and to ourselves far outweigh the potential struggle involved.

Imagine a farmer with a fertile field and a bag of seed. It's ridiculous to think that he should stay inside with his family and not cultivate the field that stretches before him! How long will that field continue to yield an abundance? Answer: Not long. As Charles Caleb Colton once said, "True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it is lost." Foolish is the one who grows into adulthood and loses this valuable resource!

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

- Anais Nin

How strange that we forget the value of true friendship just as life is teaching us differently.

Frog in a Pot (or, How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the War on Terror)

These are exciting times in the United States. Here's an update:

• We armed Afghanistan and the Middle East in the Seventies and Eighties to control the oil and fight the U.S.S.R. We lie to everyone about it.
• The U.S.S.R. crumbles, leaving a triumphant America as the world's sole nuclear and gastrointestinal threat.
• The United States polices the world, starting with a total military strike against Iraq when it tries to control Kuwaiti oil. The Iraqis, terrified by around-the-clock CNN coverage, shit in their burkas.
• Arabs, resentful over United States interference in the region and its constant backing of Israel, try to bomb the World Trade Center in 1993. They succeed, sort of - they fill the basement with smoke.
• After a series of attacks against various U.S. targets, including the U.S.S. Cole in 2000, Al Qaeda commandeers four commercial airliners and slams them into three commercial/ political targets in the United States. George Bush reads "My Pet Goat" to preschoolers.
• George Bush declares a war on terror.
• The Patriot Act gives the President the ability to do whatever he wants, including wire taps, random arrests, and body cavity searches without a warrant or reason.
• George Bush drops bombs on empty deserts in Afghanistan.
• George Bush attacks and conquers Iraq. It takes 45 minutes.
• Iraq erupts into a civil war. George Bush calls it "democracy."
• George Bush taps the phones of everyone in the U.S. From this, intelligence gathers countless transcripts of phone sex calls, which are then labeled "Confidential" for "National Security Reasons."
• George Bush decides he wants to have the power to torture people.

Um, what was that last thing? TORTURE PEOPLE? Can this really happen in the United States of America? Check it out:

Here's my question: Didn't we invade and destroy Iraq because they had a cruel dictator that tortured and killed people, including his own citizens?

What exactly is the difference between Saddam Hussein and George Bush? Facial hair?

The baby steps toward fascism in this country have recently become ardent strides, and that terrifies me. What once seemed so inconceivable in the United States in the late forties when George Orwell wrote "1984" is quickly becoming a stunning reality. Ask yourself: how exactly does a democracy become a fascist state?

As always, I think of one example: the Star Wars prequels.

There are many, many things wrong with the Star Wars prequels. One could spill endless ink on the Jar Jars, the sub-retard romance, and Yoda jumping around like a frog and screaming like a deranged Fozzie Bear. But George Lucas (aka The Jowl) got one thing right: democracies give way to fascism through the threat of terror.

Palpatine was a politician in the truest sense: he was a manipulative little jack off. Slowly, he implanted lies about the threat the Jedi posed for democracy. He enforced stricter laws on the governing of the people, all the while using war as the justification. And then, before anyone understood what was happening, he turned into this:

Suddenly law and justice went out the window with Samuel L. Jackson's hand.

How terrifying that there might be a day quite soon when we will look back with regret at our inaction and ambivalence.

It reminds me of the story of the frog in a pot of water. There the frog sits, happy and content. Slowly, the burner beneath the pot of water is turned up. The water temperature rises, although invisibly to the frog; being cold-blooded, his body temperature rises with the temperature around him. Soon, the temperature of the water becomes so hot that the frog boils to death without even realizing it.

If that water had become hot instantly, the frog's natural reaction would have been to jump out of the pot and into safety. But because the temperature change was gradual, he never noticed anything at all until it was too late.

Feel that? The temperature is rising, and the emperor is changing clothes for dinner.

Why I Am Going To Hell

As usual, I just cannot let something go.

Two days ago I posted a cute little music video featuring a retar - I mean, mentally-handicapped girl - learning about having her period. The music video was culled from an instructional video made in the seventies.

Here is that instructional video in its entirety. You know you need to watch this:



Goddamn!!! They had some terrific drugs in the seventies!!! Everyone, say it with me: "Blood from inside my body comes outside my body through an opening between my legs."

Some people have expressed their revulsion over videos like this, and the fact that I share such things so eagerly, even viciously. "Why," they ask, knowing the answer before they speak the question, "do you have to put stuff like this in your blog when you know God will punish you?"

He won't punish me. He's obviously too busy punishing innocent children. With Down's Syndrome.

Truthfully, the funniest things are sometimes the least appropriate. We laugh at someone blowing snot out of their nose when they sneeze. We laugh when an old guy farts in a supermarket. And then shits his pants. We laugh when people fall down flights of stairs, or when a guy gets hit in the balls. These events all suck for the person to whom it is happening. But it is hilarious for us.

Occasionally, hilarity comes from the unfortunate circumstance of others. That cute little girl in the above video wants to know about periods, dammit, and due to her "condition," she will not stop talking about it to EVERYONE. The only way to shut her up is to pull your panties down several times and show her the bloody pad. And then have her do it, too. The funny comes from her retardation, coupled with the uncomfortable, mesmerizing shots of a grown woman ripping a bloody pad out of her panties. Sorry, but it's true.

However, is this exploitative? Did the director of this instructional video intend to exploit the condition of the little girl? I doubt it. But if he wasn't uncontrollably laughing offscreen, then he has no sense of humor. And if you're not laughing, then neither do you.

Cases do arise, however, when I think the line should be drawn. Take, for instance, this video here:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=yFc-U0Am_rU

This is Crispin Glover's "film" entitled "What is it?" It has no literal storyline, and consists primarily of retards in makeup having sex, killing snails, Shirley Temple in a Nazi uniform, and more retard sex.

Do I think that Glover crossed the line between funny and exploitative? Absolutely. He purposely cast his film with retards knowing that the curiosity factor alone would sell tickets. He knew that people would flock to see a snuff film filled with retards masturbating, naked women crawling on crippled men, snails burning alive, and more retards masturbating and/or having sex. Such forms of "entertainment" touch on our most disturbing tendencies to leer at the unfortunate. This film is nothing more than The Elephant Man roadshow, dressed up with modern advances in cinema.

Man, I cannot wait for the DVD!!

Taste of the Younger Kind

Former teacher Debra LaFave appeared in the news again, parading herself in front of cameras for a series of interviews about her 2004 arrest. Her crime? Letting a 14 year old male student fuck her pussy.

Here is what Ms. LaFave looks like:


I keep telling myself that the boy was molested...sexually assaulted...but let's face the cold, hard fact: THIS KID IS A FUCKING STUD!!!

Understandably, the mother has a different take on the situation.

The sad truth of the matter is that, despite tremendous achievements in women's rights both professionally and domestically, there remain certain intrinsic differences between boys and girls. Besides the obvious, obviously.

As a society, we look at a man having sex with a little girl as something abhorrent, evil, and worthy of scorn and unhealthy doses of ass raping in prison. But when a woman has sex with a boy...well, um, we don't think it is exactly a GOOD thing...but we also kinda want to high five the kid, too. Seriously - this kid will OWN his high school from his first day as a freshman. He will be carried through the front doors upon the backs of his peers like Jesus entering Jerusalem, while adoring girls throw palm branches and/or their own dripping pussies at his feet. This kid will be a GOD.

For the record, we do not condone what Ms. LaFavor - I mean, LaFave - did to him.

However, it's hard to really feel bad for him. This is every schoolboy's dream come true: to fuck the hot teacher.

I think Van Halen says it best:



For the record, I was the dorky kid in that video when I was in high school. Teachers were not interested in fucking me. Except Mr. Austin. And Mr. Fuchs.

As far as I am concerned, the real problem rests with the mother. Over and over again, Ms. LaFave would call the boy, go to the mall with the boy, go to parties with the boy. What the hell did the mother think was going on? Perhaps she should take her family to Neverland Ranch on their next vacation. NICE PARENTING, BITCH!

So the mother and Ms. LaFave need to give it all a rest. The kid blew his wad and loved it. Ms. LaFave got her rocks off in a public place and got away with it. The mother seems to be the only one who cannot accept the fact that she's a shitty parent for letting an older woman squirm into their family and ride her son's dick over and over again.

And as for the boy, right now, somewhere in the USA, he is staring at his cock and saying, "Oh yeah, baby. You rock." And then beating off into his pillowcase.

So am I, kid. So am I.

Barf

This video contains some of my favorite things: retards, monkeys, and Moms with bloody maxi-pads.

ENJOY!

I am fairly certain that the pudgy, balding guy is the retard's Dad. I am also certain that he is molesting her.

This video has it ALL!

Thanks Rob Schrab for making this available in all of its unwholesome glory!!!

To 19 Highjackers

Five years have passed since you vanished in thin air. You remain now, flying, only in nightmares, your last wish granted.

Everything you ever did with your life has been examined like puzzle pieces, in the desperate hope of understanding you. In the light of hindsight, you have been called everthing for which man invented words, in the struggle to express the vacuum of thought and logic.

Mainly, though, you are called cowards.

However, I know you are not cowards. You are brave.

I cannot know the years of patient planning. The time spent in a foreign land, living and breathing the evil around you that drove you to hate it. I cannot know the adrenaline you must have had coursing through you as you packed your knives and boxcutters and headed for the airport. I cannot imagine the fear as you stepped across that threshold onto your respective airliners. I cannot understand the excitement as you sprung into action against your fellow passengers so high in the air, how completely unaware they were of the grand plan that you were granted by your God to initiate. I cannot fathom how you felt to steer those huge planes amidst the screaming and confusion. I cannot ever comprehend your final thoughts as you dove headfirst into the towers and into history forever.

To say that such planning and action is cowardly is wrong. It is brave.

People in the United States often forget that some of the bloodiest battles ever fought on earth came as a directive from their God, from their Bible. In times past, from the battle against Communism to the Crusades and Inquisitions, men bravely stood up for the God of the Bible and committed horrific crimes they truly believed were right. This goes all the way back to the Israelites slaughtering the women and children of the Hitties and Amorites. It goes back to God slaughtering the firstborn of Egypt. It goes back to God commanding Abraham to slaughter his only son Isaac. The God of the Christian world commands bloodshed from his people, and if they disobey, then they too are slaughtered.

But who has the resolve to take up that sword today? Who has the ability to have a belief living so fully within themselves that they stand up and count themselves among those who will fulfill its grim prophecy? Those that commit to their beliefs, even at the sacrifice of their own lives, cannot be cowards. Like the policemen and firefighters that disappeared with you that day, fighting against what you wrought, you too are brave. You are, one and all, brave.

The cowards are those who come afterwards, making speeches and pounding war drums and then sending other people's children to their deaths to fight for the ideals they refuse to defend with their own blood. These cowards eagerly take up the title of leaders, replete with all of the inherent power and riches, yet refuse the sword and recoil before their own sacrifice.

I admire you for your courage. Courage such as yours, if demonstrated by everyone, could change this world for the better. If only you could have had noble ideals to match your bravery, how much more powerful and complete the improvement might have been in the world today. How sad, utterly and unforgettably sad that you chose the lesser, destructive path.

I pray that those young people of the world who watched what you did and praised you will remember your courage and emulate it as they grow older. I only hope that what your courage could not let you see will be their guide, and love, not hate, will steer their planes instead toward peace.

Goodbye

A billion words have expressed the horror of this stunning event and its effect on a changing world.

I am left with this picture. One second later, and everything known and believed and hoped for disintegrated in a fireball near the top of 1 World Trade Center.

To those monolithic towers of global commerce, to those people inside about to give their lives tragically, to those policemen and firemen showing up for work on an impossibly sunny Tuesday, and to those all over the country who, like me, were just waking up and about to turn on their televisions and start their day, I say goodbye.

Goodbye and nevermore.

Implosion

Implosion of a building involves the destruction of the inner supports of a building, causing it to fall in on itself in a controlled and precise manner. The best known example of this type of destruction occurred on September 11, 2001 at the World Trade Center.

Like an imploding building, countries and civilizations often implode, their inner supports weakened or destroyed until it collapses into itself. In the five years since 9/11, the American government has made many changes from within in the guise of national security and the "war on terror" (there should be a stamp for that phrase, it is used so often).

Are the changes structurally sound?



The threats of terrorism from outside our borders may not be the greatest danger we face.

Better than Shrek 2

A buddy of mine sent this to me as a joke. As it turns out, this video is pretty cool. Cute animation, catchy song.

The ending lacks realism - fags don't find true love unless that's the name of the guy on the other side of the glory hole. (LOL sorry Alex!!)



I think even Pat Robertson would like that better than "Hoodwinked."

Sugar and Spice and Bukkake

In Milwaukee, an eleven year old girl was "gang raped" by fifteen to twenty boys, including the 40 year old uncle of one of the boys.

http://www.channel3000.com/news
/9803171/detail.html
Apparently it was a rape only in the statuatory definition, since she wanted to service as many guys as she could.

I cannot believe I just wrote that about an ELEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL.

When I was eleven, I didn't even have pubic hair yet and I knew of sex only in the ABSTRACT. Gang bangs never crossed my deliriously happy little mind.

I guess I missed out on something. My parents failed me.

What a sick world.

The Day The Music Died

I made the mistake of turning on my radio during a long drive, rather than listen to burned CD's of downloaded music (legally, of course!). What I discovered turned me into a grumpy old man.

The sonic abortion in question is "I'm Bossy" by the (formerly) impressive R&B singer Kelis. Granted, I am not exactly Beethoven - hell, I am not even Milli Vanilli - but I can discern MUSIC from SHIT. This "song," which basically consists of vibrating bass drums, a few random keyboard noises, and girls moaning, digs a new low for musical retardation. So inane, pointless, and pathetic is this newest inexplicable hit that even Missy Elliot, sitting in her Los Angeles house wearing 1,256 different colors in one outfit, exclaimed, "Damn, bitch! Dat's a hunk-a sheeeeeet!!!!" You go, girl.

And let me get one thing straight right now - I am not too old to like or understand popular music. I also love dance music, probably more than any self-respecting male should. I love fun music, serious music, and many varieties of music. But it comes down to that word - MUSIC - that truly becomes my problem; there is no music anymore!!!! I bet two years have passed since I last heard a hummable song, and that was performed by Kelly "If I Hadn't Won This Talent Show I Would Be Working At The Local Mall" Clarkson. Every song since then is tuneless trash.

And I blame black people for this. Yeah, that's right, BLACK PEOPLE. Or, more specifically, the influence of black culture on the music industry. Rap music has infiltrated every corner of the music industry and popular music in particular. Raps beats now dominate the dance wizards, and its fashions litter the malls.

Contrary to popular opinion, however, I do not believe rap music is the "music of the common people" as today's sociologists and commentators like to call it. FACE THE FACT: rap music was invented by black youths in inner cities who could not afford musical equipment and were too stupid/lazy to try and learn to play music or sing. So, instead of working hard to master the art of music composition and expression, they simply used beats and music from previously released vinyl records and they talked over the top of it. MUSICAL CAREER: NO TALENT REQUIRED.

Of course, all of this would meaning nothing if rap actually had anything to say. And, admittedly, some rappers have produced meaningful work. The musical landscape without Public Enemy, LL Cool J, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, and Eminem would be bleaker for the loss. But the VAST majority of rappers have nothing to talk about other than imaginary stories of gunfire and hoes and gold teeth and big black asses. Oh, and money. Dey gots lots-a dat!!!

Which brings me to the current state of "music." Compare any song out of today's current crop of chart toppers to songs from previous decades, and you instantly see the difference. Take "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake for example: starts off cool, has an interesting beat, and the distorted vocals get your attention. And then....? It goes on and on for four minutes, offering nothing at all but empty promises that we can "whip him if he misbehaves." Yeah, that sounds like a good fucking idea.

Compare that seemingly endless void of a song to any one-hit wonder from the eighties. How about "Come On Eileen" by Dexy's Midnight Runner? Great, bouncy beat. Cute guitar plucks. Fun violins. Super-catchy chorus. You hear the name of the song and you can sing the entire thing from memory. THAT is a SONG. It has actually MUSIC that provides a backdrop for a terrific melody and chorus. Of course, that song is an admitted classic, so perhaps it's not fair to poor Justin. Hell, I doubt if "SexyBack" can compete in the same ballpark with "Rock Me Amadeus," and that song is a shit cake.

Over and over again, the popular songs take the lazy, empty way out. Listen to Christina Aguilera's new song, "Ain't No Other Man." She has a powerful voice, and her performance alone sells this "song." However, I would guess from listening to it that no music was written at all for it. It is simply a collection of breakbeats, strung together with a couple of sampled horn hits. WORTHLESS! I wait anxiously for her next single, which might consist solely of samples of pianos tumbling down stairs.

Let's face it, when Paris Hilton has the catchiest melody on the radio, we have a problem.

But the lack of music and melody in popular music is only half of the problem. A random sampling reveals the emptiness of today's popular music. Listen to the amazingly profound thoughts on the minds of today's popular "artists":

"Damn, girl, you so fine"
"It's getting hot in here, so let's take off our clothes."
"I'm drinkin' dis gin and juice"
"I wanna get freaky"
"I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind"
"Let's fuck"

It certainly blows away any Lennon/McCartney composition. It makes Tony Basil look like Chrissy Hynde.

So thank you, Sugarhill Gang and all the other lazy fucking rappers who started this shit. I hope you're enjoying the money you made off of the music of others.

I think I will keep stealing music. They don't deserve a goddamn dime.

Incredible Lie of the Modern Age

(The AIDS quilt - one square for every death)

As a race of living organisms, humans have great capacities for invention, creativity, and empathy. They have used all of these - well, perhaps not empathy so much - to build a vast empire of technological marvels and wondrous artistic achievements. Human civilization now stands as the dominant biological force in the known universe.

And they still can't seem to get their heads out of their asses.

Back in 1984, a scientist by the name of Gallo declared to the world that he had discovered a sexually-transmitted virus as the culprit behind a series of bizarre immune system failures in gay men and drug users. There were several things wrong with this announcement:

• Gallo didn't follow standard scientific method and submit his study for peer review prior to making this announcement.

• When Gallo's study was examined, it was uncovered that less than half of the subjects tested positive for Human Immunodeficiency Virus, or HIV. Fewer had any traces of the virus in their blood.

• The day after the announcement stunned the world, Gallo conveniently filed a patent for an HIV test, which made him a very rich man in subsequent years. Coincidence?

On that day in 1984, Gallo effectively screamed "FIRE!" in a crowded movie theater (which is against the law, by the way) , and everyone ran in panic, and have continued to do so for over 25 years. Lost amid the fear are many disturbing problems with the HIV = AIDS equation, such as:

• To this day, not one scientist has isolated a living, non-cultured specimen of the virus. This means that in over 20 million AIDS deaths worldwide, none have the virus in their bloodstream at the time of death. NONE.

• HIV is correctly labeled a RETROVIRUS, not a virus in the typical understanding of the term. One main feature of the retrovirus category is that THE VIRUS DOES NOT KILL CELLS. This makes HIV an impossible culprit behind a total immune system failure.

• In the 25 years of a supposed "pandemic," AIDS remains the killer of only homosexuals and drug users. Over 90% of all cases of AIDS still occur in homosexuals and drug users.

• African AIDS differs greatly from European AIDS, the symptoms of which resemble many of the illnesses previously killing Africans and due solely to poor sanitation, lack of medicine, poor hygiene, malnutrition, and malaria. HIV tests are not usually administered to African patients; if they show certain signs, they are classified as AIDS deaths without diagnosis.

• HIV tests are mind-boggingly inaccurate. They test for a protein BELIEVED to be embedded in the outer hull of HIV ANTIBODIES, not the virus itself - a protein found in over 50 other viral and bacterial infective agents. If you have had malaria, scarlet fever, chicken pox, and certain types of colds and flus, you could test positive on that test.

• AIDS medications carry poison warnings on their labels. Poison kills living creatures, such as humans, for example. AZT, a failed cancer drug which is STILL being prescribed by doctors for people testing HIV-positive, has a skull and crossbones on the label and the admonition that this product "should not be injested or put in direct contact with the skin." These medications destroy the immune system, causing death - effectively AIDS by prescription!

Much of this information has leaked out over the years, but it continues to be suppressed. Why, you ask? Because AIDS organizations and laboratories earn MILLIONS of dollars a year in government aid, and pharmaceutical companies make BILLIONS of dollars a year selling a 35 pill a day regimen to millions of "AIDS patients" every year. It costs them SIX CENTS to make a pill; they sell it in the United States for $4.00 each, and then they charitably "give it away" to the African government for $1.00 a pill.

And that, my friends, is CRIMINAL!

I had been working on a documentary about HIV, but in the face of what would obviously be an expensive project, I stopped. I want so badly to make something that will ease the fear I see in the eyes of people who suffer under this cloud of uncertainty.

Here is the second trailer for this documentary, which I call "Do No Harm." It is a title which refers to the Hippocratic Oath, to which all doctors must subscribe...a doctor must first DO NO HARM to his patient. It is something that, in this case, they have failed to do.
Do No Harm

Ryan White should still be alive. So should many others who went to their grave ashamed, embarrassed, and ostracized.

We are not as advanced as a civilization as we imagine. Not by a long shot.

go to www.aliveandwell.org for more information.