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01/9/25   
Show us where the bad man touched you

Ushering in a New commune Era

by Red Bagel
bio/email
January 6, 2003
Call me Ramrod.

If I ever had an autobiography, it would start that way. The autobiography is uncertain, but what is certain is that, for the time being, this column is my personal property. It's the soapbox from which you will learn about Ramrod Hurley— likes, dislikes, things I don't really care about. Well, maybe not the latter. It can best be stated this way: That I have reported the news in the past; now it's my turn to tell everyone what I think of that news.

I'm also now the Editor of the commune. The Editor is sort of like a special effects maker in a movie—if it's terrible, I'll get the blame; if it's good, I'll never see the credit. I'll be a ghost-like figure, but since I can't tell you there I can let you know here, that the commune news will reach heights never before seen. I'll improve on everything and deliver the alternative news of the world in a timelier fashion, more accurate and objective than before. I guarantee it.

All of this depends, of course, on the length of Red Bagel's absence. Any regular readers of this column know Bagel is a charitable lunatic who excels only at one thing, and that's somehow making money from a nearly-bankrupt Internet publication. True, I would never say such a thing to his face, but lucky for me even when he was Editor he never read anything published in the commune, even his own column. For whatever reasons, Bagel took me under his wing and hoisted the responsibility for the whole shebang onto my shoulders. Some may say no one else wanted the thankless job, but that's just their jealousy talking. Lil Duncan would have been more than happy to take over, I'm sure, but Bagel's natural chauvinism worked to my advantage. It's just as well, since Lil's ace reporting can be utilized even better than before under my guidance, and I don't require the same, well, attention that Lil provided Red Bagel twice a week, three times during the summer, by the notes Red left me.

As for the other notes left to direct me, Red insists the columnists be allowed to do their thing, including the new columns and features he brought aboard shortly before departing with Sampson L. Hartwig. This column, according to Bagel, should continue to shine a light on the unknown conspiracies being overlooked by the "corporate" conspiracy newspapers out there. Mr. Bagel was clearly so far out of his mind he needed a charter jet for the return trip. But that won't stop me from passing on whatever information I get from Mr. Bagel's sources, on occasion—don't be surprised if the success of Ramrod Hurley's "Or So You Thought" makes history of the ridiculous conspiracy angle.

I'm no stranger to command, you should know. I ran my modestly-successful internet gossip column at www.poopoftheday.com for a solid month before poor funding and competing traffic forced us to shut down, not to mention some confusion over the purpose of the site and angry letters from scatologists. True, the staff was not as large there as it is here, but mom and Guadalupe the network programmer from Chile needed much more leadership, so it works out about the same. I've been aching to prove myself and get back into a position where I could make real changes and leadership decisions, and the advantage is once again mine.

Add to that I've basically been running the commune single-handedly for the past five months now and it's plain to see this match is going to work out. Whatever illusory conspiracy Bagel went chasing, he at least had a firm grasp on who could rule in his place. Almost without saying the responsibility turned to me to make the commune run like a well-oiled machine, and Bagel recognized that, and made me official as his replacement when he left. I'll see to it the insane old fart isn't let down.

All this and more, and that's my guarantee. There will undoubtedly be a few initial problems in the changeover—for instance, I'm currently bound to my chair and gagged, locked in my new office by the irascible staff. But typing this with my face isn't as difficult as it first seemed. I'll work out the personnel problems and establish my authority in the same way—a little painful at first, not without some mis-steps, but ultimately for the better of everyone.


Quote of the Day
“I'd like to give the world a Coke, but they'd have to share it. Actually, all anyone can do is smell it, since most of the Coke will likely have evaporated by the time it gets all the way around the world. So here you go, world: Smell my Coke.”

-Dennis Freebasen
Fortune 500 Cookie
You're a real asshole when you're tired. Or rested. This is the week you're finally going to get pantsed for your sins. Try brushing your teeth with the other end of the brush this week: that fuzzy part's not the handle. This week's lucky things the dog wouldn't even eat: your hat on a bet, Tofutti Cuties, dog barf, Sam's Club Brand Dog Food, your homemade rhubarb pie.


Try again later.
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