|  | 
 May 17, 2004 |
Washington, D.C. Whit Pistol A U.S. military prison fort: No girls allowed, unless they're holding naked Iraqi men by a leash.
"This is a disgrace to America and all it stands for," said a current U.S. president, speaking on the condition of anonymity. "This is not the way we do things in this country—torturing prisoners, committing sexual acts with those in captivity, and getting caught in the act. It is against all we believe in. It makes a mockery of America and takes away our moral high ground. What's worse, they took pictures of it, hard evidence. What are we teaching our soldiers today?"
T...
s allegations and evidence continue to mount that Iraqi prisoners were subject to abuse and humiliation in U.S. military custody, the administration promised a change would come to the way prisoners were held, and that every dollar at their disposal would be used to fix or hush up the problem.
"This is a disgrace to America and all it stands for," said a current U.S. president, speaking on the condition of anonymity. "This is not the way we do things in this country—torturing prisoners, committing sexual acts with those in captivity, and getting caught in the act. It is against all we believe in. It makes a mockery of America and takes away our moral high ground. What's worse, they took pictures of it, hard evidence. What are we teaching our soldiers today?"
The president assured the media money would be thrown at the problem until it went away or was solved, and that the budget would not rest until enough green stemmed the tide of outrage.
Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, under fire and pressured to resign in the wake of the scandal, laid out a more specific plan of monetary problem-solving.
"Here's a fifty-dollar bill," said Rumsfeld, holding the currency up for media scrutiny. "As reparations, the U.S. government plans to give each and every victim of prison abuse one of these. That's a lot of money for an alleged terrorist or Baghdad bagman. It's in dollars, too, not drachmas or anything. And if you can prove you were sodomized, actually sodomized, not pretend, we'll make it a hundred."
Rumsfeld also said monetary reparations would be made to any prisoners who didn't survive incarceration, if their deaths could be proven with pictures. Another method of solving the problem proposed by Rumsfeld is increasing the number of military troops sent to Iraq—with more troops to supervise, it makes perfect sense less abuse would occur within the prisons.
Some critics charge the U.S. is trying to buy its way out of a bad press situation, which is something the critics say is completely unlike the United States. Kim Meducci of the Washington, D.C.-area chapter of Amnesty International, called the offer of money an insult to human rights.
"This is the kind of thing other countries do to their prisoners, not America," said Meducci. "Surely if a prisoner had ever been abused in the entire history of the United States we would have heard about it. It's a shame a few bad apples, a few rogue Americans who snuck around abusing prisoners, got caught. Which is to say, shouldn't have been doing such things in the first place. It's clearly not the way a military force occupying a hostile country behaves. And the administration should be ashamed of itself, more so, for trying to buy its way out of a scandal."
the commune only managed to end the quote by agreeing to take several pamphlets and provide a tax-deductible donation to the organization.
Some sources inside the Pentagon defended U.S. interrogation tactics, which critics have said created an atmosphere of secrecy and implied consent which tolerated and even encouraged the abuse documented in thousands of photos, video clips, and even some popular barracks songs. An anonymous Pentagon source, Col. Gerald Fetchen, spoke to the commune.
"American forces, especially the special ones, need a free hand to move as they want in protecting American concerns. If we start having to charge prisoners, to show evidence of terrorist involvement, if we have to start accounting for who we put behind bars and why they're there, we'll never get justice done." the commune news is sorry for any abuse of reporters, staff, or people who happened to walk into our offices—check out the pictures on our pay internet site to see just how offensive it was and why we need to apologize. Raoul Dunkin makes our "most abused reporter" list every time, much to his personal torment.
 |
Cloning ban falls apart as U.N. focuses on semi-important things
Armstrong Williams accepts federal grant to sell Tide to African-Americans
Bush announces Mars mission to be manned by Democrats, French
Guy said no onions on his Whopper—dig the wax out of your ears
|
American Idol Finale Results: America Loses Memorial Day Celebrated With More Memorials in Iraq Congress Lobbied for More Material to Complete Brando Memorial Impotent Landslide in China Kills Only Micro-Fraction of Glorious Population |
| |
| 
 June 24, 2002
I Know You Love MeI've always believed that a sense of play is paramount to the health of any long-term relationship. And though some times I may have doubted it, Dan, now I finally understand that you feel exactly the same way.
I have to admit you had me going for a while there, when you "broke up" with me, quit your job and moved to Tacoma. Things got a little weird when you didn't leave a forwarding address and I started to wonder if we were doing okay. But then I remembered how you loved to play-act when we were together, going home from the bar with other girls and conveniently "forgetting" to tell me that you'd changed the all the locks to the apartment. I have to admit; you sure knew how to keep a girl coming back for more! But your little "hard to get" routine didn't fool me then and I wasn't about to let it fool me when I was put to the big test. Before you could say "disappeared in the middle of the night" I was in a Seattle-area private investigator's office, proving just what I was willing to do for your love.
Of course, I wasn't naive enough to think that would be enough: after all, most any girl with a road atlas, a lock picking kit and a flexible career path could track you down in Tacoma and surprise you in your new apartment at three in the morning.
But only the true of heart would endure the endless trips to the police station and rounds of legal maneuvering necessary to prove their conviction over the next several months.
º Last Column: Keep Your Hands Off the President's Money
º more columns
I've always believed that a sense of play is paramount to the health of any long-term relationship. And though some times I may have doubted it, Dan, now I finally understand that you feel exactly the same way.
I have to admit you had me going for a while there, when you "broke up" with me, quit your job and moved to Tacoma. Things got a little weird when you didn't leave a forwarding address and I started to wonder if we were doing okay. But then I remembered how you loved to play-act when we were together, going home from the bar with other girls and conveniently "forgetting" to tell me that you'd changed the all the locks to the apartment. I have to admit; you sure knew how to keep a girl coming back for more! But your little "hard to get" routine didn't fool me then and I wasn't about to let it fool me when I was put to the big test. Before you could say "disappeared in the middle of the night" I was in a Seattle-area private investigator's office, proving just what I was willing to do for your love.
Of course, I wasn't naive enough to think that would be enough: after all, most any girl with a road atlas, a lock picking kit and a flexible career path could track you down in Tacoma and surprise you in your new apartment at three in the morning.
But only the true of heart would endure the endless trips to the police station and rounds of legal maneuvering necessary to prove their conviction over the next several months.
You knew I'd come through for you, Dan, and I did. No amount of door slamming, table-lamp swinging or screaming "Back to hell with you, bitch!" could shake from my mind the love I still saw in your eyes. Lesser girls probably would have given up after being shoved off the fire escape, but then of course they wouldn't have been worthy of your love.
A restraining order can send a lot of messages, but if you really wanted me to stay away, I know you would have made sure it was for more than a mere 100 meters. That's practically a Valentine's card, an invitation to buy some high-powered binoculars and peer into your bedroom window from the parking lot of the Taco Bell down the street. You know these little lovers' games drive me wild, you tease!
After all, if you really meant what you said about the end of Fatal Attraction, why would you go to the trouble of installing those electronic sensors in my bed to monitor my masturbations? Or what about the wafer-thin cameras hidden inside the patterns in my wallpaper? That just doesn't make sense.
Everybody thought I'd for sure throw in the towel when you married Darlene, or at least when Alicia and Barnaby were born. But they just don't understand us, Dan. I'm in this for the long haul. My love only goes stronger with every additional test, and with every night spent sleeping on your rooftop, peering down through the skylight until my breath fogs the glass.
Say what you like to the papers, Dan. I know you love me. º Last Column: Keep Your Hands Off the President's Moneyº more columns
| 
| January 7, 2002
I Was Real Funny Before Everybody Got Politically CorrectEveryone I know is funny. Or at least they think they're funny. And I can understand that, 'cause I used to be real funny, too. And then everyone went and got so "politically correct" on me. Now I can't get a butt to crack a smile.
It probably started back in high school. I was a senior and about to graduate when all of a sudden people stopped laughing at my "plantation slave" character voice I did. It was real funny, too. I'd stick my lips out and say, "Yessuh, boss, suh!" whenever anybody asked me for anything. I'd be in class and the teacher would call on me and I'd do that and nobody would laugh, not one person. My dad and his buddies always cracked up when I did that, now nothing. One guy sort of cracked a smile and then went straight-faced again when no one else did. My teacher later said, "You know, that's very offensive." She told me no one talks like that and so it's offensive and I have to admit it's probably true because I never met a plantation slave. I think they ablemished slavery back in the '60s or something.
Well, that was fine, a gifted comedian like me has quite an arsenal of material to draw from. But then, one by one, all my great gags were taken from me.
My first week in college (okay, my only week in college) I got a lot of angry stares and boos whenever an Asian student would come into the room and I'd do my little "dunna dunna dun dun DUN dun dun" Chinese music. Sometimes an Asian would answer a question the...
º Last Column: I Don't Believe in Santa Claus Anymore
º more columns
Everyone I know is funny. Or at least they think they're funny. And I can understand that, 'cause I used to be real funny, too. And then everyone went and got so "politically correct" on me. Now I can't get a butt to crack a smile. It probably started back in high school. I was a senior and about to graduate when all of a sudden people stopped laughing at my "plantation slave" character voice I did. It was real funny, too. I'd stick my lips out and say, "Yessuh, boss, suh!" whenever anybody asked me for anything. I'd be in class and the teacher would call on me and I'd do that and nobody would laugh, not one person. My dad and his buddies always cracked up when I did that, now nothing. One guy sort of cracked a smile and then went straight-faced again when no one else did. My teacher later said, "You know, that's very offensive." She told me no one talks like that and so it's offensive and I have to admit it's probably true because I never met a plantation slave. I think they ablemished slavery back in the '60s or something. Well, that was fine, a gifted comedian like me has quite an arsenal of material to draw from. But then, one by one, all my great gags were taken from me. My first week in college (okay, my only week in college) I got a lot of angry stares and boos whenever an Asian student would come into the room and I'd do my little "dunna dunna dun dun DUN dun dun" Chinese music. Sometimes an Asian would answer a question the teacher asked and say thank you and I'd squint and say, "Sank you velly much-ah!" Once again, nothing. One guy even called me something I won't repeat, since I don't like to work "blue." All of this is crazy enough, but next thing I know, I can't even have fun at a baseball game. My favorite team, the Braves, are really kicking some butt against the other team and I start my war whooping yell and my "HI-yuh HI-yuh HI-yuh" dance and all the fans would shout me down. Well, all the fans of the other team would. I guess it's not so bad, at least all my friends and family still think I'm hilarious, but it's just not the same. I knew things were bad when I went to the public library and a guy came in with a pink shirt. I started to sashay up and down the aisles, lisping loudly and making cat noises. Nothing, nada. The librarian asked me to leave, I mean, but nothing like laughter. It's like now white people don't have anything to laugh about. Before you know it you probably won't even be able to make fun of women, Arabs, and rednecks. I guess I was born at the wrong time to be a big comedian. Everything's going to hell in society. Hell, even Jesse Helms is retiring now. º Last Column: I Don't Believe in Santa Claus Anymoreº more columns
|
| |
Milestones1983: Night Ranger releases seminal hit Sister Christian, inspiring the unfortunate tone-deaf singalong by Ivan Nacutchacokov that resulted in his lifetime Greyhound bus ban.Now HiringCowboy Bebop. Not really sure what this is, to be honest, but Red Bagel telegrammed to demand we hire one. Two if they come in a matched set. So there you go.Top Puns that Got You Shot| 1. | "But waiter, you can't tune a sandwich!" | | 2. | "If you want to get married some time, give me a ring." | | 3. | "Arr, you think me cooking be impressive, you should see me pea soup!" | | 4. | "Come back, man, that's nacho cheese!" | | 5. | "I play bass for Big Dick and the Trojans, we're a rubber band." | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 1/6/2003 Hot damn, America!
Against all odds we're back for another year of Entertainment Police love. Few would have thought we'd last this long, and most of them also believe in unicorns and platonic friendships. But here we are, in the abstract sense, as I'm here now and you'll be there at some later date, and we're both looking at these same words. Only it's not really equal since I don't know what the rest of this is going to say and you can skip ahead if you're in a "Fuck it All" kind of mood. Not really fair for me, but I guess that's why I'm the one getting paid, to deal with that uncertainty.
Now we look ahead to the coming year of 2003 and wonder if we'll see better movies than we did in 2002. Ha, just kidding. We all know that 2002 sucked a big novelty...
Hot damn, America!
Against all odds we're back for another year of Entertainment Police love. Few would have thought we'd last this long, and most of them also believe in unicorns and platonic friendships. But here we are, in the abstract sense, as I'm here now and you'll be there at some later date, and we're both looking at these same words. Only it's not really equal since I don't know what the rest of this is going to say and you can skip ahead if you're in a "Fuck it All" kind of mood. Not really fair for me, but I guess that's why I'm the one getting paid, to deal with that uncertainty.
Now we look ahead to the coming year of 2003 and wonder if we'll see better movies than we did in 2002. Ha, just kidding. We all know that 2002 sucked a big novelty disc, so the real question is how much better 2003 will be. I'm hoping the answer is:
A whole shit of a lot.
On to the movies!
In Theaters
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
There was a lot of shit going on in this movie: the CIA, Ralston-Purina, BET, disco, crop rotation, gongs, Margaret Cho, ninja breakdancing, bad hats, Julia Roberts barking in Morse code, dust, rubber boots full of salmon, the Pointer Sisters, Wheel of Fortune, underoos, sex with robots, John Travolta's childhood retainer, cashew chicken, nuclear autumn, that little alcoholic kid from E.T., saws, Golden Books, Rip Torn, and the list goes on and on. To be honest, I wasn't sure when the movie started or if it's even over now… I left the theater but I keep seeing things that make me think I might have just dozed off in the middle and I'm still dreaming. If that's the case I'm going to be pissed because I hate typing my columns twice.
Just Married Ashton Kutcher
I guess he's cute and all, I mean, it's not like I'd know. But if I were a girl I guess I could see it. If I were a girl. And I was really drunk. But, apparently this Kutcher guy is enough of a dreamboat that tying his knot is a common fantasy among the 12-24 set and a handful of gay sex columnists, so here we get a movie about it. And the lucky girl who gets to pretend to do it more convincingly than most (because of the Hollywood props and whatnot) is Brittany Murphy, who paid her dues by getting her trailer park on with Eminemineminemi… Marshall McLuhan. I guess the movie turned out fine, though to be honest I thought there'd be more explicit honeymoon sex than there was. But I felt that way about Father of the Bride, too, so what are you going to do. All in all it compares favorably to other teenage girl wish fulfillment film such as Monkeybone and Drop Dead Fred Durst.
Love Liza
Philip Dustin Hoffman is fantastic as Liza Minelli in this warped tale of a singer coping with her gay lover's suicide by having everyone call her Rick and pretend she's a man. Talk about bizarre; shouldn't John Malkovich be in there somewhere? It almost got too weird for me when I thought Orson Welles was in the movie, too, but in the end it turned out that was only Kathy Bates. She should do him at parties; I think she could clean up.
The Pianist
Once again the Farley brothers prove that you can't keep a good man down, nor two mediocre men with gross senses of humor. Nor one midget-sized man who walks around in a tuxedo and has a gigantic dong, neither. I'm not sure where the midgets-with-giant-dicks fascination came from, but at least the Farleys put a creative spin on it by making the guy a concert pianist who makes his living playing a baby baby grand. He also gets into plenty of trouble with married women and as I'm sure you can guess he gets drop-kicked a few dozen times and spends part of the movie wedged in a fat man's asshole.
I'm not going to review them, but I just wanted to mention that Steve Guttenberg and Kirk Cameron both have new movies coming out this week, so if you're feeling shitty about your life there's some five-dollar therapy for you.
And that's that, folks, I hope we've rung in the New Year proud. Don't forget to check back in two more weeks when we'll shake the world by doing the exact same thing for like the ten billionth time.   |
