Big Damn Streaming Preview 2026

 For any of you who have spent time parsing my sparse archives, you may remember when I did yearly previews of major motion pictures and video games, all of which were completely real and totally coming out. And we all remember how they did, because I'm psychic and shit. Never doubt me. Ever.

To get back into the swing of things, I've decided to jump of Hollywood's hottest trend from eight years ago, and take a look at the new series offered by the major streaming services. So without further ado:

BIG DAMN STREAMING PREVIEW 2026:

Brother Voodoo: Starting with Disney+, which is pretty much just Marvel content these days, comes the story of Jericho Drumm, everyone's favorite Voodoo superhero who is totally part of the shared Marvel Cinematic Universe, even though he never showed up to fight evildoers in any of the previous crises the world faced in a series of movies and shows going back nearly 20 years. Played by Donald "Childish Gambino" Glover, who smirks his way through the entire performance, the American psychologist-turned-Haitian houngan joins the forces of S.H.I.E.L.D. to fight - naturally - an evil capitalist businessman (played by an equally smirky Jay Mohr) who is attempting to harness otherworldly energy for his own means. Written by some hack attempting to be Joss Whedon, with plenty of meta jokes and sentences that start with "like."

I'm a Lesbian, Not Some Redneck: This Apple TV series, featuring lesbian stand-up comedian and lesbian actress Tig Notaro, depicts a middle-aged lesbian moving from Portland to her hometown of Pushmafukkal, Mississippi, and encountering the same intolerance that made her flee in the first place. In the process, she encounters a local lesbian, and begins a lesbian relationship with her. All of the townspeople are portrayed as toothless hicks with three teeth between them (except the lesbian, of course), who simply hate our heroine for being "different," because they simply refuse to understand her lesbianism, until she finally snaps and lectures them all about how backwards and stupid they all are, and how they should be grateful for the benevolence of their benefactors in coastal cities, whom she wishes to keep them dependent on to survive, a position that she also paradoxically complains about constantly. Written by Tig Notaro, who is also a lesbian writer. Also, lesbian.

Wombats: Exclusive to Peacock, this limited series involves a group of college freshman girls who are members of a gang-ish feminist clique called the Wombats, for no particular reason. Led by the charismatic and vaguely ethnic Faith (played by Aleyse Shannon, replete with Scary Spice hair), the girls display a lot of "attitude" and continually tell off (and occasionally beat up) everyone outside their circle, then begin to turn on each other after murdering a sociology professor (Jackie Earle Haley, in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it role) for attempting to rape the timid new member Amber (Lily Marie Donoghue), who actually is more dangerous than she lets on. Written by Sophia Takal.

Max Payne: The newest video game adaptation for Prime, this series is largely a retread of the first game, starring Tom Hardy as the eponymous character, but now with a female officer Beauty Ballbreaker (played by Ruth Negga) largely replacing him for most scenes, getting approximately 60% of the screen time (which becomes 100% after Max is unceremoniously killed off in the season one finale). The series will also be largely set in the daytime, and not during a snowstorm (although it will be filmed with an almost impenetrable blue filter), and will end with Ballbreaker being hailed as hero in the city and having a parade thrown in her honor. Executive produced by Seth Rogen, written by someone no one has ever heard of and likely never will again.

Chief of Staff: The newest comedy series from Netflix will star Julia Louis-Dreyfus as the newest White House Chief of Staff, Julie Puregood, working under the new controversial Republican president Ronald Rump (Brendan Gleeson, in a blonde wig with lots of spray tan). She continually works behind the scenes to undermine all of his orders, which he's simply too idiotic to pick up on, and secretly runs the entire country behind his back. The show will portray her as a hero for "saving democracy," by subverting the democratically elected president, and ends with her publicly renouncing him and extolling the virtues of the Democratic Party. Written by Julia Louis-Dreyfus, of course.

Thieves' World: This new HBO Max exclusive series, in an effort to recapture the success of Game of Thrones, will be an adaptation of the Robert Lynn Aspirin's book series about the various thieves and lowlifes in the fantasy city of Sanctuary. Starring Kit Harrington, Matt Smith, and lots of unknown blonde women with British accents and impressive bust lines, the series will be rich on lore for one season, then rich on nudity and CGI magic sequences for another five. Written by Ryan Condal, with absolutely no input from anyone who has ever contributed to the Thieves' World book series at all.

So, there you are. Be on the lookout for these new shows, all of which are destined to get between 70 and 80 on Rotten Tomatoes, then be forgotten about after the hundreds of people who bother watching them move on to something else.

Until next time.....

A Selection of Strange Snapshots

    There's not exactly any sort of through line in today's post. I'd just like to share a few old, odd black and white photos that have accumulated on my computer(s) over the past 20 years. Many of these I don't even recall the origins of, and the origins I do recall aren't really worth sharing. Take them for what they are: Old, odd, and without context.

You're doing it wrong!

Proof that "broad humor" is not a product of the modern era. Well, this, plus anyone who's ever read ancient Roman graffiti...

Geez, calm down, kid, it's just a bird. Unless it just shat on her. Then the face is definitely justified.

No, that's a pig. Easy mistake to make, though.

Now that's one sexy firearm! Given the time period, it's probably meant to be something like a Colt 1908, but ironically it ended up more resembling a much later (and godawful) Raven MP-25.

Well, at least they're all normal. Relatively speaking, I assume.

Girls, if the air is that dangerous, maybe don't be out dancing in the first place? I also have to assume that band doesn't have a horn section.

That's all for today. Ciao.

Anatomy of an Automotive Train Wreck

 Following the automotive world on these here interwebs for as long as I have, I've seen unusual cars come and go. Those of you too young to remember the pre-Reddit/Twitter era won't remember it, but once upon a time, every automotive niche had its own website with its own UBB forum. And on those forums, automotive lore would quickly jump from one site to another. 

John Hennessey has a meltdown and starts calling one of his customers a "nutswinger?" That customer has a Chrysler 300. He tells members of the Chrysler 300 forum. One member of that forum is also a member of the Jeep Cherokee forums, so he spreads the story there. Soon the story goes to the Dodge Charger forums. Most of Hennessey's customers drive Vipers, so naturally it spreads to the Viper forums. Forums for completely unrelated brands - and even non-automotive forums - are soon also spreading the story, linking to the original forum, and everyone is talking about it. Internet lore is propagated. There are countless incidents from back in the day: 

• The Suzuki GSX-R rider who stopped at a gas station to put NOS fuel additive in his bike, only to realize too late that he had put NOS energy drink (!) in the tank. 
• The Honda Prelude owner who decided to port his engine by "sand-blasting it," meaning putting a bag of sand up to his throttle body and having his buddy rev the engine ("Now it won't start? Does anyone know what I should do?"). 
• A Spanish wannabe-tuning outfit calling itself "Cracker Competicio," which built a Mitsubishi Eclipse (the "Eclipse Proway Project") in the most bodged-up way possible, including not replacing rings or gaskets for the high-mileage engine, installing a new crank without measuring or plastigauging the bearings, painting over the door window mechanisms, and most egregiously, filing "sin grooves" into the cylinder head - ostensibly intended to be Singh grooves - without measuring or even spacing them.
• Or one of my all-time favorites, a fresh-faced amateur engineer who posted to the GM Modern Muscle forum and announced that he had invented a new form of aspiration, which he dubbed DEI - Direct Exhaust Injection, and even uploaded this proof of concept

The automotive equivalent of routing your colon directly to your mouth

And yes, based on his defensive reactions when the other users laughed at him, I think he was entirely serious. 

One of these that I recently recalled was a certain ever-evolving monstrosity documented in photographs from the Fort Worth, Texas area. I first saw it on Ricecop's Rice or Not, a site which against all sanity I still visit and post on in 2022, despite being one of only about five people still regularly doing so.

So here's how it starts: In 2005, a member there posts the following image, which he got from another forum (natch), and none of us can believe our eyes.

Were you fooled into thinking it was a Corvette?

At the time, nobody even knew what this thing was. Just looking at the shape, I kept thinking it could have been a Renault Fuego, but the joke was on me: Renault Fuegos all stopped existing long before 2005.

So the various automotive fora spread this oddity, had a laugh, and then moved on to the next laughing stock. But this thing wasn't done. It...evolved. Fast forward one year.

GAH!

Well, beyond the obvious change of the new red, white, and blue paint scheme, now we know what those two random antennae sticking up from the back of the car were. They were braces for that strange, multi-level Cosworth-style rear wing assembly. Other photos of this thing started popping up.

A member of a certain Honda forum finally got too curious, and apparently either being or having access to a private investigator, looked up the license plate. The car was apparently registered to a woman named "Stormy," and the mystery of the car's original manufacture was finally solved: It's a 1986 Acura Integra. A rare photo of the front taken not long after this made this a bit more obvious.

You can see the Acura trapped inside if you look at the front edge of the hood on those pop-up headlights.

Now we move ahead four years: 2010, for those of you keeping track. Although there's no telling what happened to the Acura all of this crap was stuck on, a photo surfaces of that same red, white, and blue Corvette rear stuck to the back of an unsuspecting GMC Sonoma, stretched to fit with lots of black streaks of fiberglass filler.

In my quest to find the photos of this thing for this blog entry, I unfortunately was not able to find this picture, though I can still clearly remember it. I was however, able to find the next evolution, from not long afterwards, where the rear has now been primered black and the truck has suddenly spawned three wings, including one on the roof.

The aerodynamics aren't the only thing that's a drag.

Move ahead another 2 or 3 years. Now the whole truck is primered, covered in random strakes and scoops, and has a 5th generation Camaro front. The truck is also being posted on the brave (at the time) new world of Reddit, and a low-res video of it even popped up on YouTube.

What in the name of SANITY?

It's not done, though. Far from it. Not long after, the thing popped up for sale in the Facebook marketplace for $10,000, with a claimed $15,000 invested. The truck also seems to have gained some hood louvers since the last picture.

8 people liked this, though we're not sure why.

A picture of the rear from around this time doesn't reveal much new, other than apparent Chevrolet emblems now cut into the fiberglass beneath the taillights.

Finally, around 2015, the final images of this thing hit the internets, being covered by the likes of Jalopnik (the blue-haired SJW Gawker bitch-fest posing as a car blog). 

Are those supposed to be turbo scoops, or its EYES? Also, is that the shape of Texas cut into the center of the hood scoop?

This seems to be where the story ends, at least as far as I can follow the thread. But for all I know, this vehicle could still be out there, ever-changing, turned into something I can no longer even tie to its earlier form. Perhaps, as with its earlier change from the Integra, pieces of it live on in a third car or truck.

Who could even speculate? Or dare to dream?

Until next time....

Girl Watching

 

This is a crop of a much larger photograph of a Detroit street corner in 1905. While I suspect that the fellow is looking down the street instead of at the passing woman, it's fun to imagine him caught in a more compromising candid moment.

Naturally, looking at images like this today makes me ponder the ghosts of our past: Not just the people, but also the places long gone.

The building is the Cincinnati, Hamilton, and Dayton Railroad Office, at the northwest corner of Woodward and Jefferson. None of this is still here; this lot today houses a giant mid-century skyscraper, One Woodward Avenue.

The full image

In any case, it struck me, so it's here. Until next time, kids.

Awakening From My Slumber

 Geez Louise, has it really been over eleven years since this blog was updated? 

Besides concentrating more on real life (which frankly, all of us should do), I've also wasted time on social media and attempted to jump-start my YouTube channel every couple of years. Somehow, this blog fell by the wayside in that time.

While I always got the impression that I wrote this blog for maybe four people, Blogspot tells me that about 75 people a month are still looking at it. That's more than look at anything else I do online. Mostly people cruising in through Google searches, no doubt, but I should still do something with those views. Hello, random people.

For anyone revisting, you may notice a few changes here. The outdated format has been yeeted in favor of something a bit more managable, and the godawful pond-scum-green-and-orange color scheme is gone. While that did seem appropriate for a blog called "Murky Depth," I have to appreciate that people have EYES.

I also no longer use the tagline "Rants and Ruminations of an Acrimonious Young Man." For one thing, while still managing to be under 40 doesn't quite make me an old bastard, I'm not totally comfortable calling myself "young" anymore, either. Also, I've lost quite a bit of interest in "ranting." That was a holdover from the old days of the internet, when everyone was trying to channel George Carlin and Dennis Leary, yet forgetting that rants have to be FUNNY to be entertaining. 

My old "Pugnacious Kerfuffle" format, however, where I simply post about three random things that bug me with no through-line between them, may still be around: For some reason, I'm awfully attached to it. I'm also more interested in goofy creative writing projects here in the future....except for "We Three Kings" of course. I don't know where the hell I was going with that one. I'm not sure I ever did. It seemed to be a one-joke premise (they're all named King, get it?) that didn't evolve as it should. Still some funny dialogue, though.

I've become far more interested in ephemera, so you may see updates in the future about random things that interest me. Cars, firearms, history, or just goofy memes that make you facepalm. Who knows?

You may also see more connections to my YouTube channel in the future: Posts that combine video and audio.

This rebirth will be a process, but Phoenix, ashes, all that jazz. See you guys really soon....

Rat-tarded

Today I'm going to break my streak of "multiple parts of a retarded story that nobody cares about" and go back to writing about something that bugs me. And this rant is inspired by a video I saw recently, of a pit bull puppy playing with a rat. Or more appropriately by the comments left on it.

Here is the video in question: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbPW6iF98eo

Seems innocent enough, at least to me. A pit bull puppy playing with a rat, perhaps a bit roughly, and then the rat runs away. Cute, really. But not to the self-righteous, passive-aggressive masses. Below is a sampling of some of the wonderful comments left on this video:


From doggpower2233:

yes i have had rats for 9 year when they spueaks it hurt or pissed god ur so grrr poor thing i hope ur rat bites u in the face

I have to be honest: For a moment, I thought "god ur so grrr poor thing" was some sort of expression of sympathy to the poster of the video, but then was blindsided by "i hope ur rat bites u in the face." Wow, I'll bet that would show 'em, wouldn't it? The rat, obviously being completely cognizant of whatever the fuck it was about this video that offended YouTube champ "doggpower2233," should punish its owner with a "bite to u face."


But it gets worse. From bradrats:

poor little rat i hope u die!!!!! u should not own them if ur gunna do that ur evil and die in hell u bastard!!!!! u r so crule to animals

Wait a minute....did he just wish death on the poor little rat? And he wants it to die in hell? Don't you have to die first, in order to go to hell? Or have I forgotten my Judeo-Christian teachings somewhere along the way? In any case, he's quick to point out (apparently still to the rat) that it's "crule" to animals....and what could be worse than that?


Well, this comment from LodernaiVicious, for starters:

If you were my child I would have kicked you in the head and taken your pets to a shelter. Both pup and rat were in danger, you moron...

Yes, and your child would be in no way in danger if you kicked him in the fucking head. Sounds like a real stand up guy....


Then here's some wannabe rat psychology, courtesy of costernocht:

If the rat is squeaking, it's being hurt. This is cruel.

Rats only squeak when they're in pain. Duly noted.


Some obliqueness, courtesy of theLORDofSKATE:

YOU TIGHT BASTARD

.....is that a compliment?


Some self-importance from CahillandDelene:

Just the title this person chose says volumes. Fighting for survival. Pit bulls should be banned everywhere. And rats are wonderful pets. This poster is a jerk and trying to get away with something that looks "cute".

Yeah? Well I think rats should be banned everywhere, and pit bulls make wonderful pets. Enjoy your fucking bubonic plague.


A comment from the somehow appropriately named EvilSnooche:

Dude ur retarded..did YOU watch the video? Poor rat was getting mauled with no where do go until the end there where it finally got away.... Animal right faggots? I hope one day u get eaten alive by coyotes. I bet more ignorant people like u will be calling others human rights faggots too. now go back to ur deluxe trailer.

First of all, I won't even address the irony of "ur retarded." Second, to say the rat was getting mauled, when it pretty fucking obviously wasn't injured, it ridiculous. I'm guessing this winner hasn't actually seen a proper "mauling" in his life. And third, you don't get to compare animal rights to human rights when you just wished for a human to be eaten alive by coyotes.

As for the "deluxe trailer" comment, I have no idea, though I can only assume it's some sort of dig at someone being poor, as if EvilSnooche hadn't already shown himself to enough of an insult to mankind in general with the rest of his post.


Then there's DBNskiller:

Dude if i ever meat you in real life you dont wanna know how badly i fuck you up, believe me i would swear to god ill rip your eyeballs out and shit on them.

WARNING: INTERNET TOUGH GUY AHEAD.

And easy to say, too, considering the video poster is from South Africa and DBNskiller is from the Netherlands, at least according to both of their profiles. It's always easy to threaten somebody you'll never have any chance of meeting.


I was surprised at the following timely, intelligent, and well-thought out comment courtesy of Banger606:

You're a fucking bastard. You're a fucking bastard. A shit fuck too. You're a fucking bastard. You're a fucking bastard ...

It's Not Funny !!! piss die mother fucker die mother fucker!!!

Gee, do you think he believes the video poster to be a fucking bastard? Or indeed, a shit fuck?


Wishful thinking from KakaoAndWhippedCream:

I hope you die.

No, not the rat nor the dog. just YOU.

Unfortunately, KakaoAndWhippedCream, they're all going to die, eventually. Hope you're okay with that.


From oliverotcasek:

I hope you die but before that know everyone hates you.

Well, oliverotcasek, I KNOW you'll die eventually, assuming you're mortal. And sometime before you do, I hope you realize that someone has preserved your idiotic, spiteful comment and posted your YouTube ID along with it.


A direct threat from the ironically named noneofyourbusiness65:

you mean person!! im thinking of calling animal rights activists on your behind!!!!!!!!

Scary....


More helmet-wearing mental retardation, from thes0rleymussed:

That is not harmless play-it's toying with that rat. It would have eventually killed it-with stress if nothing else. I really hope you get raped by a fucking 6 foot 20 stone bubba..see how it feels, you fucking ride cunt bitch whore animal abuser. BURN IN HELL, CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!

If there's one thing I can't help but notice in these comments, it's people making incredibly sadistic and inhumane comments at someone they perceive to be sadistic and inhumane.

Now I ask you, which is worse: Letting a rat and a puppy play roughly, or telling a woman you hope she gets RAPED and calling her a cunt, among other things? I know the answer to that, and I'm hoping you know the answer to that, but thes0rleymussed? He doesn't, and the world is worse off for having him in it. And the world is worse off still for someone who abuses the exclamation point so severely. Look at how angry I am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Closing, I think this quote from djabsy1 sums it all up perfectly:

THAT IS SHOCKEN !!!!

And there you have it. Somebody sees a video that reflects something he or she personally would not do, and then goes into full-on self-righteousness mode, appalled at how "SHOCKEN" it all seems to someone who has never seen it. A normal person would say, "Gee, the Orkin man is more of a danger to rats than this person," yet sadly, most people are far from reasonable.

In short, if you're so worked up over a YouTube video that doesn't depict anything abnormally harsh that you actually wish DEATH upon the person who uploaded it, then you you need to grow the fuck up. A rat is a goddamn rat, and while I don't condone genuine cruelty to them, you're not going to hurt their feelings or traumatize them for life by letting a dog play with them. Stop anthropomorphizing your pet vermin; life isn't a cartoon.

Pictured: Not real life

We Three Kings: Fellowship of the Kings

Holy shit, I'm still alive! Yeah, I slipped a little there. Anyway, I'm going to get back to updating this blog now. More random humor and gripe articles are likely forthcoming....but in the meantime, it's time to check back in to this pointless spy action story that for some reason I'm determined to finish.

"Is there any hors d'oeuvres?" Don said as he dug around in the miniature refrigerator. "I like me some hors d'oeuvres."

Stephen sat on the cheap, button-tufted wing back chair on the opposite end of the green room, arms crossed and eyes closed. He opened his eyes and sighed.

"Just sit down, Don. You're like a little kid half the time."

"Fuck off, Steve," Don said as he settled on a bottle of Coke and slammed the refrigerator closed. "My ass is hungry."

"Okay," Stephen said patiently. "What would your ass like to eat?"

"I done told you," Don said as he took one drink, screwed the cap back on the bottle, and threw it across the room. "Hors d'oeuvres."

"So what, you're expecting a party tray or something?"

Don fell heavily into the chair next to Stephen and narrowed his eyes at him. "The fuck's you talkin' about?"

"Hors d'oeurves don't just come anywhere. You serve them on trays at parties."

"You so full of shit," Don scoffed. "I get hors d'oeuvres all the time at the grocery store. Frozen. I heat 'em up in the microwave."

"I think you're confusing 'hors d'oeuvres' with 'snack food,' Don," Stephen said patiently.

"Same fuckin' thing, dumb fuck. 'Hors d'oeuvres' is a fancy way of saying 'snack food.'"

Before Stephen could retort, the door to the green room swung open, and with the swagger of an old gunfighter, in walked the man, the myth, the legend: Larry, the oldest living King. Stephen and Don both stood immediately to formally great him, but Larry waved them off.

"Save it, fellas," Larry said dismissively. "Now I need to know why you're here. And I don't want to hear anything about SCEPTER sending us on another mission. I'm retired. From that, anyway."

"Yeah, when did your ass retire?" Don asked. "I didn't get the memo."

Larry hesitated, then: "Well, I guess I took it for granted that agents leave the field once they turn eighty. I figured you all knew."

"So you're eighty?" Stephen asked.

Larry grinned. "I'm not falling for this one. Nobody knows this old boy's age except the old boy himself. Now, what can I do for you gentlemen?"

"Well, I think you already know," Stephen said. "SCEPTER. I haven't been briefed yet, but Don knows about it."

Larry looked to Don, who shook his head and pulled a cigar from his pocket.

"They told me they want to do the briefing," Don said as he bit the end off and took out his lighter. "I ain't supposed to say shit."

"You're not supposed to smoke in the green room, sir," Larry said pointedly.

Don struck his lighter and paused, looking up at Larry, the unlit cigar still dangling from his lips. He snorted, then lit it anyway.

"Fine then. I can see we're not playing nice," Larry said. "Why exactly do they have to tell us themselves?"

"Knowing SCEPTER, so it will be more dramatic," Stephen sighed.

"I'm the attestation of privileged information," Don said between puffs. "I got it, ya'll don't."

"What's the deal with him, anyway?" Larry asked Stephen, pointing a thumb at Don. "Kind of a pissy mood."

"Yeah, you'll have to excuse him," Stephen said. "He just drove cross country, twice. Three times, if you count laterally as 'cross country.'"

"And ya'll don't have no hors d'oeuvres," Don fumed.

Larry nodded at this, then did a double take. "Wait, what?"

"Do you still have the Larrycopter?" Stephen asked hopefully.

Larry shook his head. "No. I got rid of that when I retired."

"Shit. Looks like we're still stuck traveling in Don's Pimpwagon."

"I done told your ass," Don growled, blowing smoke in Stephen's face for effect. "It's called the Big Ticket."

"Yeah," Stephen scoffed. "Named after all those unpaid citations in your glove compartment."

"I can pay off that shit any time I want," Don muttered, jamming his cigar back into his mouth.

"Alright, fine," Larry said. "So we're going to DC then, I guess, and we're going in the Big Ticket."

Stephen and Don both nodded simultaneously.

"Great," Larry continued, with a hint of sarcasm. "I'll get Kathy Griffin or Bob Costas to sit in for me the next couple of nights. Let's get this over with."

Larry stepped aside and motioned for Don and Stephen to walk ahead of him. He hesitated before following them out.

"Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?" Larry muttered under his breath.

"Problem?" Stephen called from down the hallway.

"No, no problem," Larry called back as he left the room, the door swinging closed behind him.

We Three Kings: The Old Man From Brooklyn

Since I have nothing else to write about at the moment, this month's update will continue with episode 2 of the adventures of three guys named "King." Enjoy. Or not.


Larry walked out of the studio with confidence, with none of the stumbles, trembles, or bent-over posture of most men his age. He wore a black silk shirt, with a vibrant blue tie and matching blue suspenders, a striking color combination that inspired awe among everyone on set. He smiled and nodded to the passing members of the crew, responding "Thanks" to anyone who commented "Good show, Mr. King."


Larry's director Preston, a short, slight, bespectacled man in his late 20's, approached from down the hall as Larry opened the door to his dressing room. Preston still had his wireless headset on, and was carrying a random stack of papers in his right hand. Larry halted his entry and greeted him.


"Hello, Preston. Good show tonight."


"I should be saying that to you," Preston beamed back. "Bill Maher interviews are always great."


Larry nodded. "He's a smart guy, funny. Plus, he's always available when I can't get any actual celebrities."


Preston laughed a little too loudly. "Okay, Larry. Hey, Natalie is looking for you. She wanted to ask you something about the show."


"Tell her I'm in my dressing room."


"Will do," Preston responded, adding a cheerful mock salute. He continued on his way down the hallway.


Larry stepped into his small but comfortably furnished dressing room and closed the door behind him. He loosened his tie and walked over to the liquor cabinet, pouring a shot of Glenfiddich 18-year Scotch and taking it in slowly. He looked himself in the mirror and sighed.


"How much longer can you keep this up, old boy?" he asked himself. His reflection did not respond. Time for another drink.


Just as he began to tip the bottle, the door to his dressing room unlatched and began to open slowly. Larry nearly dropped the bottle as he spun around.


Natalie was a young intern for Larry King Live, a blue eyed, black-haired non-traditional student roughly 30 years old. She wore a rather tight pinstriped power suit with a very non-traditional miniskirt and black silk stockings.


Larry smiled. Young enough to be a fox, old enough to be experienced.


"Mr. King," Natalie began with genuine innocence, "I just wanted to ask you a few questions about the show tonight. I'm so fascinated by the way you conduct your interviews."


"Preston told me you were looking for me," Larry said casually as he lifted the bottle of Scotch.


"And you were going to pour me a drink," Natalie continued as she closed and locked the door. "You sit down and relax. I'll pour us both one."


"Be my guest," Larry replied suavely as he sat down heavily on the pea green love seat in the corner.


Natalie strutted to the liquor cabinet, bending slightly with her derrierre pointed right in Larry's direction. Just as he was enjoying the ample view, a flash (other of course, than Natalie's black silk panties) came to him.


A small tablet broken in the drink. A laugh....the same laugh he remembered from his mission in the Ukraine in 1997. But it couldn't be!


Natalie had just poured the drinks as was turning towards Larry when something knocked the left drink from her hand. The shot glass fell to the floor, unbroken, spilling the exensive whiskey onto the hardwood. Natalie looked up, surprised, to see Larry, standing with one foot on the right arm of the love seat, weilding his left suspender behind his head like a bull whip.


"But, Mr. King, I don't - " Natalie began.


"Don't play games with me, sweetheart," Larry growled. "We've played this game before....Natalya Sedusinska!"


Natalya tilted her head back, laughed her familiar diabolical laugh and then lowered her gaze into Larry's, staring coldly into his soul. His heart skipped a beat, but Larry stood his ground. He began to swing the suspender over his head like a lasso.


"Well, well well, Meester King," Natalya hissed in a Russian accent distinctly different from her earlier voice. "I see you have seen through my little plot."


"You don't even know what I'm capable of," Larry replied, still swinging the suspender.


"I know what you are not capable of....at least without your precious Cialis!"


Natalya kicked her left foot, sending her stiletto heel spinning towards Larry. He ducked and did a somersault off of his hands, just as the heel missed and and embedded in the wall. Natalya kicked her right foot, sending the right heel straight through the uplostery of the love seat. Larry landed on the other side of the room, and whipped off his right suspender, having lost the other one in his tumble.


"Oh, erectile dysfunction jokes should be off bounds," Larry moaned painfully, despite not being visibly perturbed. "It's just too much of a low blow."


"You meesed your opportunity for a blow, Meester King!" Natalya shouted with berserker rage as she ran towards Larry and jumped, hurdling towards him with an outstretched right foot and a kung-fu scream.


Larry let loose with his suspender, snapping it around her foot with a deft throw and tossing her to the closet behind him. She landed with a muffled thud as she knocked over racks of hundreds of suspenders.


"Suspenders!" she hissed. "You and your damn suspenders!"


Larry stared at the tangled Natalya intensely as a high-pitched whine emanated from parts unknown. His eyes grew wider and wider and the sound increased in frequently.


"HA!" Natalya barked. "Does Meester King have the gas?"


The racks on the closet floor started to vibrate as one pair of suspenders after another came to life, moving accross the floor and wrapping themselves around Natalya's extremeties. She attempted to scream, but was cut off by a cheerfull, rainbow-patterened handstitched pair that wrapped around her throat like a boa constrictor. She gagged as she looked to the wide-eyed old man, terrified of what she saw.


"I DIDN'T WANT TO DO THIS," Larry's voice boomed over the frequency, though his mouth was not moving. "BUT YOU HAVE LEFT ME WITH NO ALTERNATIVE."


The rainbow suspenders constricted violently, snapping Natalya's neck as easily as a #2 pencil. The vibration and whine both stopped at once, and Larry collapsed to the floor, exhausted.


"Larry! Hey Larry!" came a shout from outside the door. Suddenly the door flew open with a crack as Preston jumped into the room. The first thought that crossed Larry's mind was how a man so wormy could kick through the door to his dressing room.


"Jesus, Larry, what the hell happened here?" Preston exclaimed as soon as he saw the body in the closet. "Poor Natalie! You kinky old bastard!"


"Not Natalie," Larry muttered as he lifted himself to his feet and brushed off his clothes, immediately looking around for his misplaced blue suspenders. "Natalya. I've dealt with her before, about eleven years ago. She was much younger then, little more than a girl."

"Oh, dammit," Preston sighed as he planted his face into his right palm. "Another spy? This is the third one in the last year!"

"Sorry Preston. You know what you have to do."

"Yeah, sure," Preston replied, exasperated. "Don't tell anyone, hide the body in your rolling suspender cabinet, and wheel it out after the studio is mostly cleared. I should get a raise for this."

"Remind me about that later," Larry said as he took another draft of Scotch straight from the bottle. "I'll see about making it happen."

Preston started out the door, then added: "By the way, have you scheduled either Don King or Stephen King for an interview?"

Larry lowered the bottle and raised his left eyebrow, then his right. "No. Why?"

"They're in the main studio looking for you. I'll tell them to come back later."

"No," Larry said dryly as he placed the bottle back into the cabinet and started working his suspenders back on. "I'll go greet them. You take care of our deceased intern."

"Kinda funny that all three of you are named King, isn't it?" Preston added as Larry started for the door. "With Don and Stephen, I mean."

"Yeah," Larry replied coolly. "Hilarious."

We Three Kings: The Beginning

Skid's Note: In order to revive Murky Depth and keep it going, I'm adding to my old format of "Gripe Article," "What Might Pass For Humor Article," and "Pugnacious Kerfuffle." I've decided to include an exciting serial (to be updated periodically, in between articles of the aforementioned variety). This series will follow the action-packed, occasionally incomprehensible adventures of....well, you'll see. Enjoy. Or not.

The Beginning

"Hey Steve. STEVE! Wake yo' ass up!"

Stephen rolled over and yawned, checking his bedside clock. 6:30 AM.

"Don't make me put a boot in yo' ass! Get out here!"

Stephen got out of bed, careful not to wake Tabitha. He walked to the bedroom window, stretching and belching softly as he looked from his bedroom window. It was a nearly cloudless morning, and windy. The air from the Gulf carried only the slightest chill. Near the spiderweb gate was parked a pearl lavender 1972 Cadillac El Dorado, complete with a white carriage top. Stephen could see a shaggy grey mass sticking out of the driver's window.

"Oh shit," Stephen hissed as he fumbled with his clothes and made for the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Stephen stepped from the front door of his home and made his way towards the car. The engine was purring softly, and he could hear the faint sound of B.B. King's "Rock Me Baby" playing over the stereo. Don was in the front seat, glaring at him with a gigantic, half-burned cigar between his teeth. He just glared silently until Stephen got the gate opened and approached the vehicle.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Stephen asked, still slightly groggy.

"The fuck is you doin' here, Steve?" King replied, removing the cigar from his teeth on the word here. "I thought yo' ass lived in Maine."

"In the summer, yeah. It's December, Don."

Don was inconsolable. "Do you know, I had to drive my ass all the way from Vegas to Maine, only come to find out, yo' ass wasn't there? You in motherfuckin' Sarasota motherfuckin' Florida."

Stephen nodded, humoring him. "Yeah, sorry to hear that. I'm sure you're heartbroken."

"I am!" Don said, reinserting the cigar. "SCEPTER wants us to meet them at the D.C. headquarters."

"What's it about?"

"We'll get a full brief at the HQ. I'll tell you what I know about it after we pick up our third man."

Stephen pointed at the car's radio. "So I take it B.B. is joining us again?"

"Hell no," Don muttered. "My brotha's diabetes is all actin' up on him."

Stephen raised his eyebrows. "Rodney?"

"Man, shit no!" Don snapped, sending spittle flying on shit. "That nigga ain't worth shit 'cept gettin' his ass kicked."

"So I guess that just leaves Carol, then," Stephen shrugged.

Don turned his head, and a toothy grin crept across his face. He shook his head no.

"Billie Jean?"

Don held his grin. Removing the cigar again and leaning in close, he replied quietly: "Larry."

Stephen recoiled slightly. "Larry? What the fuck is he good for?"

"Motherfucka please," Don scoffed. "His ass is precog, and telenakimetic!"

Stephen rolled his eyes. It took practice to learn Don's language.

"Okay then," Stephen started, then noticed no one else was in the car. "Um...where is he?"

"L.A." Don said casually.

"Los Angeles? But you were in Vegas."

Don turned to Stephen, face blank. "So?"

Stephen closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So why didn't you just pick him up first, then come by and get me? Now you have to drive all the way to California to pick him up, then all the way back to Washington to SCEPTER's headquarters."

"The fuck I am! I already drove to Maine lookin' for yo' ass!" Don raged. "All them cracker asses with their lobsters and scrimps and shit. Freakin' my ass out. And I'm tired, too!"

"Okay, fine. Move over and I'll drive us," Stephen replied soothingly as he opened the driver's door. Don reluctantly moved across the mink upholstered seat to let him in. Stephen put the Caddy in gear and glanced one more time at his house. He sighed.

"I was going to do some writing today, too."

"What?" Don asked as he stubbed out his cigar in the car's already full ashtray.

"Nothing," Stephen said as he accelerated slowly, pointing the car west. "Nothing at all."

Imus Be Dreaming

I had nearly given up on updating this blog a while back, but now there's something in the news I feel I must comment on...and in the process am rediscovering how good it feels to vent here. I guess that means Murky Depth lives. Huzzah.

On April 4th, famed radio personality Don Imus made the following controversial comment in regards to the (mostly black) Rutgers Womens' Basketball team:

"Them's some nappy-headed hoes."

The comment immediately drew fire from a handful of self-righteous, moral crusaders, (led by bad-hair extraordinaire Al Sharpton) who apparently want to make it their business if Imus is a racist or a sexist. They immediately sought to censor him in every way possible, from demanding an apology from him (which he made the mistake of doing, only adding publicity to an already volatile story) and demanding that CBS fire him from his radio show, which he has run for 30 years. On April 12, CBS did just that.

"I think we've got to really used this to really stop this across the board," Al Sharpton said in response to Imus' being fired. I think this quote perfectly illustrates Sharpton's state of mind. Seriously, if you can figure out what the hell he was trying to say, leave a comment below. I'd love to hear some possible translations.

Having never listened to Imus and not agreeing with his comments about the Rutgers' team, I still can't help but hang my head at the thought of another victory for censorship. I find this case remarkably similar to two other cases of the past few years:

Bill Maher: In 2002, the host the popular ABC (Comedy Central prior to that) TV talk show Politically Incorrect, Bill Maher was debating with a conservative guest on whether or not members of Al Quaeda should be considered cowards, considering they actually willingly die for their cause. Maher made the following argument:

"We have been the cowards lobbing cruise missiles from 2,000 miles away. That's cowardly. Staying in the airplane when it hits the building, say what you want about it, it's not cowardly."

There was immediate public outcry over Maher's alleged "Anti-American" statement, including demands that he apologize and that he be fired. Although Maher never apologized for making the statement, per se, he did apologize for any misunderstanding on the part of the viewers, claiming that he was accusing politicians and generals of cowardice, not actually the soldiers. Nevertheless, ABC allowed the contract on Politically Incorrect to run out the next year without a renewal. However, Maher did not disappear: He went on to develop Real Time With Bill Maher, a similarly themed but far less restrained show on HBO. Maher is also still a popular stand-up comedian and a (very) frequent guest on CNN's ever-popular Larry King Live.

The Dixie Chicks. This Dallas-based female pop/country act made headlines in early 2003 when, during a concert in London, lead singer Natalie Maines made the following intro to the song "Travelin' Soldier":

"Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all. We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas."

Once again, there was immediate public outcry. How dare these women have the nerve to criticize our President, in front of a foreign audience no less? This will obviously "embolden" the enemy. Because you just know there's some Middle Eastern man in a cave somewhere, wiping away a tear of joy when he learns of the fact that the Dixie Chicks are on the side of Allah. He would spring forth with newfound resolve, grab his Kalishnikov, and head straight out to meet with his co-conspirators, all of whom will begin furthering their plot to poison the water supply in San Francisco.

Although radio stations all over the country began holding public demonstrations destroying the Chick's CDs and merchandise and making it clear that they would never again play their music, Maines finally caved and offered a weak apology for "disrespecting" the asshole she criticized in the first place. However, she was also adamant that she still meant it.

After disappearing for a couple of years, The Dixie Chicks released an album in 2006 entitled Taking the Long Way, with a single called "Not Ready to Make Nice." The song was a rather blatant shot back at the bands critics, and despite minimal radio airplay was apparently powerful enough to attract much media attention to the band's new album: The album went gold within one week, and as of 2007 the Chicks had earned multiple Grammys: Best Album, Best Record (apparently those are two separate awards), and Best Song (for "Not Ready to Make Nice"). After their Grammy win, the Chicks' album hit #8 on the Billboard 200 and their single hit #4 on the Pop 100.

Maines even retracted her early apology, saying "I apologized for disrespecting the office of the President, but I don't feel that way anymore. I don't feel he is owed any respect whatsoever."

So, back to Don Imus. Imus, like Maher and the Chicks, made a controversial comment. Some might argue that the analogy between them is hard to follow, since his comments are harder to defend, but to that I reply: Harder to defend for whom? Certainly racists and sexists would have no problem defending it....or anyone who seeks to protect free speech.

I say: Let Imus have his show. I don't give a damn if he's a racist, sexist, homosexual, zoophile, Nazi, Satanist, or Green Party candidate. The guy can say whatever he wants, and those that don't like him don't have to listen. How about we all stop pretending we can eliminate bigotry in the world, finally accept that it's human nature, and rather than try to censor it, we do more to be aware of it?

You can't spell Optimus Prime without IMUS.

Besides, if there is one thing that he can learn from the cases of Bill Maher and the Dixie Chicks, it's that trying to censor controversial comments only increases attention to those who made them. I suspect that something similar will probably happen to Don Imus. He'll get another deal somewhere along the line, and probably maintain legions of fans (hell, probably gain some) for facing such hard-nosed adversity from the likes of Al Sharpton and his tens of followers (no, that's not a typo).

See you net-jackers next time, when I find something else to bitch about or chew over. Greasy-headed cracker, over and out.

Let's Go to the Movies!

I know what you're thinking: "Wow! The goat roper actually updated!" Well, I didn't. You're imagining this. Everything you know is a lie.

If you remember a couple of years back (or at least read my archives, since nobody read my blog a couple of years back...then again, I guess no one reads it now, either, but I'll stop this digression now because it's way too much to fit into parentheses) then you probably remember my preview of the upcoming hit video games for the year. And you probably remember when all of those REAL LIFE games came out, too. Well, this year I'm doing it for Hollywood. So hello to...

BIG FUCKING GODDAMN MOVIE PREVIEW 2007 (even though it's still 2006)

The Winds of Concorde: This historical drama, set over the backdrop of the American Revolution, features Josh Hartnett as a British soldier who is stuggling with his duties to the queen and his loyalty to the concept of freedom and his love for this new, struggling country called America. In an attempt to jump start her dramatic career, Jessica Simpson will co-star as his blonde bimbo girlfriend, who wears plenty of cleavage-revealing dresses and works in a tavern where she beats up all the men who hit on her. This film will feature an easily digested, naive view of history, lots of music by Bernard Herman, and plenty of smoke and blood filled battle scenes. There will also be a subplot about slavery, since every film has to have a token black character and also apparently the horrors of slavery haven't been quite milked to death yet by screenwriters.
Rated "PG-13" for violence, innuendo, and an inexplicable random male butt shot.

Chico and The Man: The latest in a neverending stream of old television shows made into half-parody movies, this film will feature Owen Wilson as a young Hispanic who goes to work at a garage owned by cantankerous old mechanic Ed, played by Ben Stiller. The bumbling duo have to overthrow a conspiracy to get the scientific community to deny global warming, and will end on a Hollywood leftist, environmental note when Chico and Ed destroy all the cars that have come to their shop for repairs and replace them all with hybrids. There will also be a subplot glorifying illegal immigration, when Chico is picked up for not having a green card and dumped south of the border, where he buys a coffee can full of blow for 2 cents and gets wasted. This will give an explanation as to why Owen Wilson completely botches the line "Looking GOOOOOD!" the one time its spoken, though it's really because he's bored to be in this crap.
Rated "PG-13" for mild language and drug use. An unrated version on DVD will be basically the same, but with topless women present when Chico does the blow.

Going to the Chapel: A romantic comedy named after a popular song form the 1960s? Who ever would have guessed? A trendy, 30-ish writer (played by David Duchovny, even though he's 15 years too old) living in New York falls in love with a 30-ish dog groomer (played by Marcia Cross, who only passes for 30 because she looks like she's composed of about 80% botox) whom he meets in a singles bar. She pesters and hounds him to "commit" to her, which he doesn't do, but shortly before she married a hunky mountain climber instead (played by some ruggedly handsome guy who actually is 30 and no one has ever heard of), our hero interrupts the wedding, proposes to her, gives her new man a swirlie, then carries her off into the sunset with the entire wedding party applauding.
Rated "PG-13" for no particular reason.

Gallons of Hemoglobin: Yet another "horror" movie about a very human psychotic killer, this one involves a disturbed man (played by Adam Baldwin, the only Baldwin who isn't a Baldwin brother) who traps a diverse group of people in a maze full of hungry, killer housecats. At the same time, he's also hunting them each down with night vision goggles, attempting (and usually succeeding) in beating them each to death with a Chia Pet. At the same, he's being tracked down by a dedicated but hard-drinking divorced cop (played by Don Johnson, attempting to make a comeback).
Rated "R" for amazing realistic blood and gore, and lots of it. Also some boobs.

Gen 13: Yet another comic book turned into a film, this one features a who's-who cast of hot young celebrities (read: people who have been on Smallville) as the no-longer relevant "Gen 13" team of superheroes, from the then-hip, mid-'90s series of graphic novels by Image Comics. Lots of special effects, spandex, and a cliched, convoluted story full of plenty of braindead intrigue.
Rated "PG-13" for innuendo, language, mild violence, and an amusing anecdote from Grunge about how he once tried to date rape a drunk girl and accidentally molecularly bonded with her, causing him to turn into a giant vagina. You just can't give that a "PG."

BioDome 2: Oh yeah, it's happening. After Basic Instinct 2 and Big Momma's House 2, anything can happen. Plus, Pauly Shore needs work. Stephen Baldwin would probably do it, too, just as long as Jesus is mentioned a lot in the script.
Rated....errr...well, whatever the first one was rated.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Company: Tired of World War II yet? No? Me neither! This Tom Hanks-produced war drama is the extremely accurate (a lot of genuine antiques were used - and destroyed - making it) portrayal of a group of ordinary soldiers dropped behind enemy lines, fighting their way across Axis-controlled territory in an attempt to destroy a giant rail-gun. Leading them is tough-as-nails Sgt. Cracker, surprisingly played by Tom Hanks. The rest of the ensemble cast of young blonde actors who all look and sound alike and can't be told apart generally spend the movie arguing and pointing their weapons at each other in tense, inter-company standoffs that would never actually happen in a war.
Rated "R" for buckets of gore and entrails flying about, rendered in both CG and practical effects with a loving level of detail.

So there you have it. The lineup of all the year's biggest hits. Be sure to see them in the theaters, since Hollywood is so much in the red right now.

Sonnet to a Disco-Era American Car Seen at a Car Show

But hark! What shape is yonder copper boat?
And if it be the owner's will to sell,
Will green paper release it from his dote,
Or angrily will he curse me to hell?

Seventy-six to seventy-eight it is,
Excellent years for the Grand Marquis.
Nay, but no car can tear my eyes from this,
One of the finest two-door Mercuries.

Though I can but see the back of this ride,
Blocked by a Sherbet Pearl monstrosity,
Only but from the back passenger's side,
The rest of it's glory I need not see.

Despite my desire for a car as such,
The owner probably wants too damn much.

-----------------------------------------

Yeah, so I haven't updated in a couple of months, so I figured I'd throw some pointless pretentious poetry at you (how's that for alliteration?). This piece was inspired by a picture I saw on Ricecop's Rice or Not of a really ugly pink street rod (mentioned here as the "Sherbet Pearl monstrosity"). The sonnet is about wanting to see more of the copper-colored '70s-vintage Mercury behind it, and how I'm a hopelessly weird enthusiast for liking such a looked-down-upon vehicle.

See you next month, assuming I have an actual topic to write about.

What Ever Happened to Cheech and Chong?

I'm really getting damn tired of the constant whining of illegal aliens.

Once upon time, they didn't personally bother me. I recognized illegal immigration as a legitimate problem, but I didn't blame the illegals themselves for wanting to come here. Well, now I do. After weeks of bitching and one laughably non-effective "boycott", I've determined that every one of these people is a raging asshole, and the people who support them are not only small-minded, but racists as well.

Oh yeah. I said it.

What's the first thing you hear out of the mouths of pro-illegals? "They do the jobs that white people can't do." No, that's not racism at all!

Here's the one I'm getting damn sick of. "They do jobs that Americans don't want to do." Because obviously all Americans live in the suburbs, make a yearly salary, and work white collar jobs in cubicles. I just saw on Anderson Cooper 360 recently a story about aliens working on a farm in California making $8.95 an hour. Here's where this pisses me off: I MAKE $6.50 AN HOUR. And it took me two years of unemployment to get lucky enough to find this job. You want to find Americans willing to work hard jobs for next to no wage? Look no further than the South.

What's just as bothersome to me are all the legal immigrants joining in the protests. Hey, legals: NOBODY HAS A PROBLEM WITH YOU. THIS IS NOT AN ANTI-HISPANIC THING, IT'S A FOLLOW-THE-FUCKING-RULES-AND-IMMIGRATE-HERE-LEGALLY-BECAUSE-YOU'RE-NOT-TOO-SPECIAL-TO-DO-SO THING. They keep saying "We're all immigrants!" No, just you are immigrants. The illegal immigrants are aliens. And at this rate, neither of you are making friends.

The nationwide marches yesterday attracted literally millions of people. I can't believe people are getting so bent out of shape about our country trying to control it's growth and unemployment rate. If only people would get this worked-up over Bush's shoddy job as president, or the war in Iraq. But no, they'd rather spend their time arguing their retarded-ass racist views, or protesting the removal of a religious symbol in a public courthouse.

This is why we're all fucked.

Pugnacious Kerfuffle's Revenge

--Enough of this crap about Dana Reeve already. We lost Darren McGavin and Dennis Weaver mere days prior, and both of them barely got a mention. But the news spent at least one entire day talking about this broad. What did she do? WHAT DID SHE DO? She was a housewife who did some charity work, that's all. Don't mourn her just because she was married to a self-important crippled guy.


--So Isaac Hayes is quitting South Park as the voice of "Chef", and I'm pretty pissed about it. Hayes is a Scientologist, and apparently got all upset over last November's episode lampooning Scientology (one of the best episodes ever, IMO), saying that co-creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone had crossed the line into "bigotry and intolerance". This is very confusing. He never complained about their ribbing of other religions, but as soon as they make fun of his he feels the sting. He expects a double-standard between his religion and all others. Is that not "bigotry and intolerance"? Besides, the episode didn't really knock Scientologists themselves, in fact it seemed pretty sympathetic towards them. It merely called Scientology a "global scam" and explained what Scientologists actually believe, which is something that Scientologists don't want outsiders to know, mainly because of how fucking stupid it all is. Maybe it was the revelation of the tenets of Scientology that REALLY made Hayes quit.

In any case, so long, Chef.


--I just watched Good Night, and Good Luck last night, and I was very impressed by it. Films like that seem so subversive now, and for good reason. Our country has now entered into another McCarthy era, where dissent of opinion is likened to disloyalty to the country. Hell, Bush even said once "You're either with us or against us." In that case, Georgie, I'm against you.

We need more Murrows now, but I think the way broadcast news works today it's not going to happen. The corporate owners of the media outlets would never allow it on the air, not for an instant, and everyone is terrified of sponsors pulling out of news programs. How can CNN broadcast without sponsorship from Ameritrade? Whatever would they do?

There are a few out there who aren't afraid to speak their minds (Bill Maher immediately comes to mind), but these people are primarily comedians and columnists, not purveyors of the news. That's where the bloggers come in. Not guys like me, I'm just some asshole who shoots off on subjects that bother him and makes goofy observations of daily life and hopes that maybe someday more than three people will regularly read it all. I'm referring to the actual news blogs, provided you can find one that doesn't proudly proclaim itself as having a right or left wing bias. I think there's a new medium of reliable information, and I think it's far beyond the reach of government influence.

At least I hope it is.

Marriage Can Kiss My Ass

I'm really getting tired of this "sanctity of marriage" malarkey that's being thrown this way and that in the media these days. Every other TV show or movie is about an "emotional coward" with a "fear of commitment", like this "commitment" thing is something we all secretly aspire to but some of us just don't want to admit it.

Okay, so some assholes get married, and they want other people to get married, too. They give a lot of reasons for this. What are these reasons?

1. Married people have better health than unmarried people.
Oh, I see. So marriage is magical. If you get a blood test and a slip of paper and get almost irreversably financially tied to another person, that will make you healthier. This is exactly why common sense should sometimes take presidence over statistics.

2. Married individuals have lower rates of alcoholism than their unmarried counterparts because they tend to offer encouragement, support, and protection from daily problems that could otherwise lead them to using alcohol and other drugs.
And they can also provide reasons for alcohol abuse by generally being a pain in the ass. By the way, be sure to rattle this statistic off to that woman whose husband beats the shit out of her every time he's drunk. Or I should say those women. There are plenty to choose from.

3. Married men and women have lower suicide rates than unmarried ones because married people have meaningful social networks of friends and relatives. Meaningful relationships give people a sense of personal value and a feeling of responsibility to others.
Ah, I see. And you have to be married for that. You have to have that blood test and that slip of paper and the woman has to change her last name in order that you don't kill yourself. Besides, am I the only person left on Earth whose personal value is not based on how many other people I know?

4. Married individuals tend to have stronger immune systems, making them less likely to catch colds and develop other illnesses than unmarried ones.
I'm not kidding, I actually read this bullshit in a pro-marriage article. So being married turns you into Superman. You become the complete opposite of an AIDS patient. Hey, maybe AIDS patients should all get married! EUREKA! I've just found the cure for AIDS!

5. Marriage tends to make individuals to be more motivated to do well at work.
Yeah, because your spouse is a selfish fucker and you have to make plenty of money to keep him/her satisfied with material possessions.

6. Married persons are less likely to be lonely because they always have someone to share their thoughts, feelings, and lives with.
Because it's not like cohabitated couples can do that or anything.

7. Married couples have sex more often and enjoy it more physically and emotionally than their unmarried counterparts.
More often? Yeah, probably. Enjoy it more? I'm going to have to answer "like hell" on that one. I'll guarantee if statistical information was gathered about which women are more likely to fake orgasms, married women would probably own that dubious distinction.

8. Married couples have higher incomes than single men and women.
Yeah. And they have to share it with each other.

9. The most valued and beautiful of all human relationships and a fundamental social institution which is central to the nurture and raising of children.
Since when? When I was a kid, all of the most fucked up kids I knew were the products of married households, while some of the most well-adjusted had not only unmarried, but single parents. Granted, I had married parents throughout my childhood, but I think that just goes to show that not all people benefit from the same environment. Besides, what about folks like me, the proudly child-free?

10. A strong commitment to marriage is therefore fundamental to the health and stability of any home, community or nation.
This is exactly what I'm talking about. Maybe such a legal bond is beneficial for some people (fuck if I know why), but it's ridiculous to assume that it is fundamental to the health of ANY home. There is nothing as small-minded as assuming that everyone has the same goals that you do.

I thought about coming up with my list of ten reasons to stay single or cohabitate, but that last bit reminded me otherwise. If you're already single, you already know the benefits. If you already cohabitate, you already know about the benefits of that, too. If you are already married or for whatever reason really want to reach that status, then you likely don't care. As for me, I'm a happy single person and will likely stay this way for some time (and if I ever do lose my single status, it won't involve marriage). I just can't bring myself to throw away my individuality just so I can become psychologically dependent on another person and somehow act like I'm "fullfilled" as a result.

Plus, it gives me an excuse to eat alone in restaurants and walk by myself through the supermarket with my head held high. Yes, I'm single and no, I don't want your life. So there.

Merry Goddamn Christmas and Happy Fucking Holidays

If you've been looking at the news for the past month, surely you've noticed the "Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays" debate that has suddenly crawled out of the sewers this season to consume the unsuspecting populace, much like the Blob. And if you're anything like me, you're probably quite perplexed by it.

It goes something like this: Although people have been saying both "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" interchangeably for as long as anyone can remember, suddenly this year some people decided that it should not be so. Although many people blame the politically correct "Happy Holidays" crowd, I place the blame more on the "Merry Christmas" end.

In recent years, there has been a growing trend that I (for lack of a better name) have dubbed "The Belligerent Christian Movement". These people see approximately two points of view - Christian and atheist - and think that the latter is "out to get" the former and wipe it completely off the face of the planet. They're in a constant struggle to force their religious views onto everyone else, and when denied the opportunity are quick to create a false dilemma, somehow coming to the conclusion that U.S. courts are "hostile" towards religion and are keeping them from keeping their own religious views. These are the people I solely blame. They believe that the ultra-PC crowd wants to take their holiday away from them, and they also frequently labor under the misapphresion that Christmas is the only holiday this time of year.

Earlier I was reading an article in the online Kinston Free Press (a North Carolina paper) which contained a quote from a local minister by the name of the reverend Chuck Lyons: "Happy holidays is kind of humorous to say anyway...What is the holiday they're celebrating? It's Christmas."

Really? So I guess the Jews, they're celebrating Christmas, too? The New Age religions? What about the Muslims? Every group I just named has its own holiday this time of year: Hanukkah, Solstice, and Ramadan, respectively. Hence, "Happy Holidays". Plural. With an "S".

"Merry Christmas" is not necessarily an offensive phrase to anyone, although it could be considered exclusionary. Saying something like "Merry Christmas" to someone you don't even know is to presume you know what their religion is, which is somewhat rude. But then one also has to consider that Christmas is to many basically a secularized holiday. This is why the phrase never bothered me - before.

One has to stop and consider...why would some of the water into wine crowd be so offended by "Happy Holidays"? After all, that phrase includes their beloved Christmas. It's simply wishing well on whatever holiday they celebrate. But it seems the aggressive evangelists aren't content in being included in the holiday season, they want complete ownership of it.

This is why the phrase "Merry Christmas" bothers me now. Every time I hear it now, I've begun to hear a slight towards non-Christians. I don't acknowledge the phrase when it's spoken to me (unless if feel the person truly means it), and I certainly will not return it.

As for me, I just say "Have a Nice Day". It works all year, and nobody is bothered by it.

Dr. Hysteria, or How I Learned to Stop Thinking and Believe in Man-Made Global Warming

Ever see The Day After Tomorrow? It was that really lame environmental activist propaganda film disguised as a disaster movie written and directed by Roland "I love to destroy New York with computer effects" Emmerich. If you did see it, I sympathize. I sat through the thing too. But if not, let me fill you in:

Everyone will continue to not buy all-important hybrid cars, and those evil V8 engines in everything else will spit up a cloud of Hydrogen Dioxide, which will create a sudden spike in global temperatures. This will make it hail in Tokyo. Afterwards, every one will begin to freeze to death (because the world is getting hotter and all), New York will be destroyed for the 80th time, wolves will suddenly start attacking people, and then we'll fall through some ice. And the survivors will start burning books to stay warm.

Powerful statement, huh? Because believe me, it IS a statement. This isn't just a work of fiction...there are some - nay, many - who actually seriously believe this shit. The popular view of GLOBAL WARMING (to be forever after placed in all caps, to emphasize how scary it is) is that not only is it for real and for true, but people are causing it. Because we drive cars. Environmentalists hate cars, unless they're powered by hybrid drive or solar power.

Ask any liberal (I hate to use the either of the terms "liberal or "conservative" as dirty words, because it makes me sound like I side with one of those groups - trust me, extremists from either end are equally unpleasant people) and they'll tell you that there's a mountain of evidence for GLOBAL WARMING, most notably that something is melting somewhere. That's what it always leads to. Something is melting somewhere, whether it's an iceberg in the North Atlantic, the entire continent of Antartica, or some little girl's ice cream cone in Des Moines. They use the term GREENHOUSE EFFECT sometimes (although not often anymore, 'cause it doesn't sound scary) to describe the hypothesis that our atmosphere traps in carbon dioxide, and that cars produce more carbon dioxide than we can get rid of, since we keep destroying the rainforests. This carbon dioxide will keep building up in our atmosphere and start to raise the temperature of Earth, thus naturally killing everything living on it. There's certainly no statistical evidence for this, but just remember that something is melting somewhere. And if ice is melting in one part of the world, obviously the entire world is getting hotter.

Here's what you don't hear from proponents of GLOBAL WARMING:

1. Climatologists only have just over 100 years of global weather data to work with. You can't predict what's going to happen several centuries from now based off of 100 years of data. You can't even predict what's going to happen 100 years from now based off of 100 years of data, due to the lack of any kind of control group. The question of whether the last century has been typical or atypical in terms of global temperatures is unanswered, as is the question on if there even is such a thing as a typical century, since it could be argued that Earth's climate has been changing nonstop for over 4 billion years.

2. The term "GLOBAL WARMING" itself is misleading, since it does exist, in a sense. If one were to look at the global weather data we have, they would see a warming trend from the 1890s to the 1940s, a cooling trend from the 1940s to the 1970s (which paved the way for "second ice age" theorists, which were just as fanatical and hysteric as GLOBAL WARMING proponents are today), and then another warming trend from the 1970s to today. But even that hasn't remained constant: although the hottest year since the 1970s was 1998 ("a mere seven years ago", proponents like to point out smugly, which by itself chips the credibility of a world constantly getting hotter), the coldest year since the 1970s was 1992...a mere SIX years prior to the hottest year. Oh yeah, and in case you're wondering, this last century has averaged out to a temperature rise of around 2 degrees Fahrenheit. Although some proponents gloat about this fact, it's well within a reasonable scientific margin. When global temperatures are constantly rising and falling, it's a logical fallacy to assume that the overall global temperatures will average out to the same number every 100 years.

3. Although proponents love to point out that the majority of climatologists believe in GLOBAL WARMING (and this may well be so), what's never taken into account is the (sizable) number of them who insist that our current warming period is a part of a natural cycle occurring every 30 or 40 years and is not caused by man. Majority belief is flimsy, anyway: A true inquiring mind doesn't grasp an idea just because it's fashionable, and if the climatologists can produce no evidence for their beliefs, then they're merely personal beliefs. I'm sure most climatologists believe in a god, as well. That doesn't mean theism has been scientifically proven.

4. I hate to take away the GLOBAL WARMING crowd's favorite argument away (no, on second thought, I love taking it away), but not every bit of ice in the world is melting. For example, the sea ice seasons in the southern oceans have been getting noticeably longer over the past 10 years or so. And although proponents constantly bring up the polar ice caps melting, most experts agree that the ice caps have been melting for around 1,000,000 years now...which is a pretty fucking long time before the Industrial Revolution started.

5. Many have theorized that the planet is coming out of the "Little Ice Age", a global cooling period that lasted from the Middle Ages to the early 19th century and making a natural recovery to its previous state, however this theory is hampered by the lack of reliable global temperature data from over 100 years ago.

6. Satellite temperatures have shown little to no warming in the upper atmosphere since the 1970s...and the warming of the atmosphere is crucial to the idea of GLOBAL WARMING.

I honestly hope that our current warming trend is part of a 30-40 year cycle...that way, very soon now, we'll see GLOBAL COOLING. No, make it GLOBAL FREEZING. The hysterics will jump right back to their second Ice Age, and I'll still be laughing at their complete ignorance and lack of research.

So what to do until then? I guess I'll just CHILL for a while. HA, get it? Chill! Because of GLOBAL FREEZING!

.....

Screw you, I thought it was funny.