Bush Issues Quarantines for SARS, Celebrity Activists

s another step forward in the country's re-constitutionalizing, the president decreed that it was acceptable for health officials to quarantine anyone suspected of having the SARS flu, an epidemic which has killed more than 120 people worldwide. The largest number of victims have so far been in Hong Kong, a nation renowned for people who do their own stunts.

When questioned if the administration had the power to approve such orders, large masked men detained the reporter violently and he was dragged screaming into a back room of the West Wing. Remaining correspondents looked away and tried not to make eye contact.

SARS, which may or may not stand for Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, is reaching epidemic proportions in some areas of the world. Already international flights have brought suspected SARS carriers to the United States and allowed the spread of the disease across the Atlantic and Pacific and other oceans.

Also reaching epidemic proportions, according to the Bush administration: Mouthy celebrities.

A week after his April 4 SARS quarantine executive order, Bush issued another order that allowed for temporary restraint of celebrities showing dissent on the subject of the Iraq war. Federal agents moved quickly to tranquilize Michael Moore in his New York home and seize any possible sardonic footage accrued for a future documentary.

Though no other celebrities have been selected for quarantine as of yet, many are under strict warning to reduce symptoms of celebrity activism or face forced isolation. Talk show appearances and awards shows will be monitored especially close for signs of infective dissent.

Among the most closely watched celebrities are notorious leftist opposition and those who have recent displayed insurgent opinions prior to the start of the war. Martin Sheen will still appear on NBC's drama The West Wing, but all other appearances are subject to administration approval. Those in fear of the contagious verbosity of Sheen or other actors can have their televisions adapted with special chips that sense liberal claptrap and automatically switch the channel to Fox News.

Other precautions have been taken as well. An anniversary showing of Bull Durham at the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown was called off when former Reagan aid and Hall of Fame president Peretsky worried about the communicable ideas of film stars Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins. Also not recommended for viewing is The Banger Sisters, but the administration affirms it is for entirely different reasons.

The most surprising addition to the list of possibly infected celebrities in the past month was Texas' own the Dixie Chicks, but an investigation has begun to root out the cause of the band's newfound radicalism. Early indications suggest that the Dixie Chicks played a venue after the Beastie Boys within the past six months and singer Natalie Manes may have had close contact with a microphone used by Ad-Rock.

The administration assures the public that SARS and activist quarantines are not expected to last longer than a few months, but then asks what we would do about it even if they were.

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Long about this time every year, the days just get too nice to be wasted sitting around the commune offices, modifying my wrist rocket or flinging boomerangs out the window in the hope that they'll hook back into Raoul Dunkin's window for an Aussie Good Morning. When it gets this nice, it becomes imperative to take the day off, but not the kind of weak-assed "authorized" days off that normal chumps take. Nope, Monday I decided it was time for an Omar Bricks Day Off, the kind where everybody thinks you're still at work but you're actually far away, pushing a greased pig in through the back door of a titty bar somewhere.

Now, though it may sound like all fun and panicked strippers to the novice, an Omar Bricks Day Off is actually a complicated undertaking. If word got to Bagel that I was going to fuck off for the day I'd be in some serious shit, because he'd definitely want to tag along and there's no way I was going to have that big sack of weird following me around all day. I somehow ended up at a boat show with Bagel one time and that Zagnut actually tried to buy the convention center, so he could lock the doors and claim ownership of all the boats and people in attendance. How embarrassing. So needless to say, I needed to bust open a big can of covertness, and fast, unless I wanted to spend the day listening to Bagel talk about how he was suing the television show Method and Red for stealing his character.

At first I tried to set up a mannequin at my desk, to fool people into thinking I was actually here but just really bored, but that idea quickly went over like a fat man in a hot air balloon. Every time I left my office to get more stealthing supplies, I came back to find that somebody had mistaken the mannequin for Raoul Dunkin and knocked its head off. After the third time I thought about trying to bolt the head on better, but with my luck somebody would set the damned thing on fire while I was gone, and then my ruse would be up and somebody else would have their whole day ruined when they found out Dunkin was still alive.

So instead I tethered a monkey to my desk and put a Jane Fonda workout tape in the VCR, which sadly was enough to convince most of the staff that I'd made it in to work for the day. It probably would have fooled Bagel too, except the ape went monkeyshit when the tape ended and it couldn't find the rewind button on the remote. I've heard conflicting accounts about the kind of mayhem that ensued, the only constant being that at some point, the monkey definitely ate Lil Duncan's brassiere.

So from what I hear, from that moment the hunt was on, with Bagel stopping at nothing convenient to find out where I'd gone and why I hadn't invited him. That's what I hear anyway, I was at the discus factory by that time, still under the impression that the goddamned monkey was doing his job.

At some point Bagel stopped by my house, jimmied the lock with the key that got melted in there during a hot-doorknob prank last year, and questioned Foghat as to my whereabouts. At which time Foghat passively resisted by pissing out an open window. Great dog.

From what I understand Bagel made his way to the uniform store from there, thinking that was a place I'd go, which was a plain stupid move on his part. I'd already been there earlier in the morning, and that trail was colder than a passed-out hooker on a winter morning. By then I was borrowing Bob Dylan's Jesus jacket from the Hard Rock Café on the other side of town, a move Bagel wouldn't intuit until hours later, when he caught wind of that afternoon's surprise Dylan concert in the park.

I finally gave Bagel the shake later in the afternoon by listing the lost frames of the Zapruder film on eBay; I hear the bidding got up to a quarter-million before somebody realized I had just scanned in the negatives from my trip to the Ferrari museum. Sure, it screwed my eBay rating, but it got Bagel off my ass long enough for me to ride in the Black Power parade, and that was well worth a couple of death threats in my feedback listing.

Even though I never got to the Louvre as planned, the day still ranked as a stellar Bricks fuck-off, and convinced me that I should really do this kind of thing more often. The question is: Would every day be too often? There's only one way to find out.

Bricks off.

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Hello commune:

Do I know you from somewhere? I could swear that I do. You seem so familiar. Are you the website where I got all that barnyard porn last year? Thanks a lot, if that's the case. I had to enroll in veterinary school to justify that one to my wife. But no, the more I think about it, that site had more horse cocks than yours. Where do I know you from? Were you the website that told me to buy all that stock in that edible dildo company? Again, thanks a lot. But I seem to remember they had all their fonts in pink. Hmm. Who are you guys? You must have been on the computer during my brother's wedding. Something like that. Weird.

Rick Splitz
Old Phone, Vermont

Dear Rick:

According to our exhaustive research and forensic computer analysis, we believe the sites in question to have been BustyBarnyardBitches.com, EatADick.com and DrunkBridesmaidBang.com. As for the commune, we don't believe you've ever visited our site, since we know all of our eleven visitors by IP address and think of them lovingly as family. Which may make it seem strange that we've even bothered to answer your letter, but we're confident that word of its publication will eventually reach you through the grapevine of pedophiles, speed freaks, Oakies, defamed Catholic priests, jigsaw puzzle enthusiasts and sub-Star Trek geeks who read the commune. Take care.

the commune

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Dear commune:

Please die.

Stacey Altamont
Redburn, Georgia


Dear Stacey:

Finally, a civil letter we can respond to. Good to hear from you again Stacey. Though we like to honor reader requests when possible (see "commune please cure my cancer," issue 37), we've run into a small problem with yours. Apparently there remain a few antiquated state laws on the books about mass murder within office buildings, even when sanctioned by a total stranger via US Mail. What will they think of next? Making it illegal to keep small children locked in your basement for the purpose of pay-per-view pitbull wrestling? Sorry Stacey, try writing your congressman a letter.

the commune

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Dear commune:

the commune's retrospective article on baseball pioneer Hank Greenberg (Big League Jew, July 14th) was both racist and derogatory. No it wasn't. Yes it was. The fact of the matter is that I don't know how I feel about the commune's Greenberg article. And this is a problem. Please make it a point to run articles in the future that I understand my feelings about more clearly. Thank you.

Dickie Waters
Bleaching, New Mexico


Dear Dickie:

Always happy to hear from a fan. Actually, we're not. Okay, we are. Hold on. We'll get back to you.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for anyone's actions after reading the commune's first Book of the Month selection, "Why Do the Arabs Hate Us, and How Can We Kill Them?" We just liked the cool drawing on the cover.

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