Sinclair Networks to Air More Anti-Kerry Films

any independent probes have begun to look into the practices of national network affiliates owned by Sinclair Broadcasting Group after the company pledged to air the anti-John Kerry film Stolen Honor on all its networks. Some research has uncovered a history of support for the GOP, a concentrated agenda against the Democratic party, and also revealed proposed plans to air more films and programs designed to denigrate presidential candidate John Kerry and give George W. Bush the advantage in their political match-up.

Sinclair, who also earned Democrats' ire for refusing to air Nightline's reading a list of dead U.S. soldiers in April, is treating the Kerry-bashing film as news content. It compares the nationwide free airtime for Republican views to the limited-release theatrical film Fahrenheit 9/11, basically meaning fuck balanced political programming. On the heels of the film's airing, in the remaining time before Americans go to the polls Nov. 2, the company is planning other right-wing spin programs on Kerry.

John Kerry: Warlock?, an independently-produced film by the religious group Swift Christians for Truth, postulates that the Massachusetts senator may have been fathered by a goat and possesses mystical powers that allow him to alter the presence of nuclear materials, even erase them from existence. Though mostly assembled from stock footage of the candidate and interviews with unaccredited "experts," the film does contain a segment purported to show a young Kerry in a pointy hat turning a horse into a unicorn. Others, however, say the blurry footage was recently staged, and that's clearly Scott Baio playing the lead role.

Another film, Sandbagger: John Kerry's Real War Record, alleges the senator actually started the first Gulf War when, at a cocktail party in 1990, Kerry suggested to Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein he should take back Kuwait as part of Iraq. Democratic opposition to the film claims it's incredibly false, that Kerry was only joking with the guy, and the man reputed to be Saddam Hussein had actually attended the costume party as Super Mario.

Less likely to air, but still listed among recent Sinclair acquisitions, John Kerry: What a Pussy, seems little more than a suckerpunch film made to ridicule the man on a personal level. In addition to showing still pictures of Kerry next to flesh-torn zombies and cartoon dog Droopy, the film accuses Kerry of catching crabs in Vietnam and makes quite rude insinuations about his mother.

Other viewers of Sinclair networks say it isn't the first time the company has taken a side in political races. Certain anonymous Sinclair viewers, like Martha Philips of North Ridge, Virginia, say the sound cut out frequently during two of the three debates, all while Kerry was speaking, while another viewer insists a picture of Jesus was superimposed behind the president during the first debate.

"I also swear," says Margolis, Washington viewer Richard Higgs, "that the movie I watched last week originally starred John Wayne. But that guy who I saw in the movie then looked a hell of a lot like George Bush."

Sinclair has already made good on some of its other proposed anti-Kerry imagery, showing an embarrassing television appearance by the senator last Saturday culled from a 1980 episode of Dance Fever.

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On a recent trip to the little man's room I came across a sign on the floor. It featured a stick man breakdancing on a yellow background above text which read as follows: "Cuidado: Piso Mojado". That's right, Spanish. And as every bi American knows, that's Spanish for "Look Out: I Pissed on the Floor". And that got me thinking, and I thought this: "Goddammit, how come everything's got to be in Spanish?" Quickly after that my thought changed to "Wait a minute, who's pissing on the floor?" but then after a moment of confusion it switched back to the Spanish thing. And I think I may be on to something here.

Since when do we as Ameyhicans have to bow to the whims of the Spanish-speaking minority? Personally I'm tired of it, and I think it's time I made a stand. The next time I pull up to the Taco Bell drive thru, you won't hear me ordering a "Burrito Supreme, Nachos and a Chalupacabra", I'm going to proudly demand a "Big-Assed Bean Sheath, Some Chips with Shit on Them, and One of Them Scary Fuckers From the X-Files". That's my right as an American. And they'd better not underfold it so the bottom blows out on my bean-sheath, either.

I was feeling rather proud of this resolution as I tried to decipher a pornographic limerick scratched into the bathroom stall (Anybody who knows the one about Swedes and weenies, email me at deeznuts@thecommune.com), when suddenly my thoughts began to change again. Once more, they drifted to the Cuidado sign, like closeted gays to a Ricky Martin concert. And as I pondered the sign's message, it occurred to me that this little sign says a lot about America today. How many times in a day does someone, in effect, tell you to Look Out, because they just pissed on your floor? Today I counted 87.

Now keep in mind, gentle reader, that I'm not talking about literal pissing here. And that non-literal pissing wasn't necessarily done on your literal floor, either. I'm talking about the constant letdowns of everyday life, the times when those who we count on fail us miserably and just shrug it off because it's become expected. Every time the Concorde slams into a baby farm outside of Paris or that kid at Wendy's gives you Iced Tea when you specifically asked for Lowenbrau, it's Cuidado: Piso Mojado. Any time a cop pulls you over because he thought you were black and makes you late to the six o'clock showing of "Charlie's Angels", Cuidado: Piso Mojado. Whether it's an alligator getting loose at the zoo and eating a clown or the Democrats barfing up Dukakis as their candidate in '88, it's all Cuidado: Piso Mojado.

Well I'm here to tell you one thing: that Omar Bricks' floor was not made for pissing. You can piss your own floor all the live-long day, and you won't see me trying to stop you. I believe it's even covered under the religious practices protection laws in some Southwestern states. But my floor is a strict no-pissing zone, and anyone who forgets that is liable to get a mop-handle up his ass with very little warning. Figuratively speaking, of course.

I implore you to take a similar stand. The next time you're on hold waiting to talk to a customer service representative, and have just listened to 32 straight minutes of Christmas carols on the classical guitar, only to have the system disconnect you just as you reach the head of the phone queue, don't just shrug and head for the mop. Demand accountability. Maybe you should send that company a package of unstable C4 blanketed in roofing nails. Will that get you more prompt service on the customer support line? Probably not, since the service reps will most likely have been reduced to hamburger and strewn over a quarter-mile of real estate immediately following the explosion. But someone, somewhere will take notice. Maybe the next pizza you order won't come in the box upside-down. Maybe those daycare kids will stop chanting "Stinky Butt! Stinky Butt!" when you walk by. Or maybe the mailman will stop crumpling your mail into a ball before he stuffs it into your mailbox. You'll never know until you try.

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"My college years were plentiful with fun and new experiences. When I recall people from that time I always think of my European History professor, Mr. Carmel.

'Hartwig,' he once told me—he always called me Hartwig—'Hartwig, history is written by the winners. There are a thousand untold stories from history that have been revised and edited by generations after. People who did not feel the truth was in the best interest of society. We must never forget that.'

He would take a puff off his pipe and continue, 'There are inventions we have lost to the ravages of time because those who inherited them could not see the value, lacking the vision of those who created them. Diseases could have been cured, populations fed and clothed and sheltered, suffering that existed only because those who won the day were strong in might only, not in compassion or wisdom. Cultures have been destroyed, entire races of people who perhaps could have contributed to a better world. Annihilated simply by those who could kill and destroy. Though we may try to forget, we are descended from those people. The murderers, not the creators.'

Actually, I think that's incorrect. Mr. Carmel was a candy bar I used to eat a lot in college. I don't remember who said that about history. Maybe it was my Latin professor, talking about Latin. I'm not sure. I might have to get back to you on this one."

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