n Al-Qaeda video airing on Al-Jazeera Wednesday not only failed to impress virtually everyone, it also failed to thank President George W. Bush for all his subversive efforts to help rebuild the terrorist organization.

The tape, slammed by critics as a "greatest hits collection of the usual dreck," featured an undated cameo by terrorist favorite Osama bin Laden and a lot of voicing over by Al-Qaeda's number two shit Ayman al-Zawahri. The video exhibited a friendlier sort of Al-Qaeda, with no direct threats to the U.S. "infidels" but promising that current battles were only the beginning and "the true epic has not begun," proving to all that the tape was at least recent enough to cop from the new Matrix sequel.

The only footage of Osama bin Laden showed the Al-Qaeda figurehead appearing older, but could not be pegged for a date. The world's number one prick was shown frolicking around with henchman al-Zawahri along the mountainside like a homosexual Captain and Tennille.

Though reference was made to the Iraq war, it may have been to one of several Iraq wars in which "agents of America" invaded the country. Neither was thanks given to American president George Bush for raising Al-Qaeda popularity to unimagined heights in Iraq by bombing that country into a primitive agricultural state. The death of thousands of Iraqis and the devastation of the country's infrastructure have done more to raise recruitment for the terrorist group than any post- or pre-Sept. 11 attacks.

Some, like this reporter, would suggest that Al-Qaeda and the Bush presidency have been mutually beneficial to each other, especially given the intention by bin Laden to invoke a harsh U.S. response to help the Arab world rally behind him. But the increasing power of terrorism hasn't just been beneficial to bin Laden and associates, but also to the administration, which still rates high approval numbers when it comes to defense and being tough on terrorism.

When questioned on the veracity of the recent bin Laden video, the president asked for a definition of veracity. Then, gesturing toward the footage of bin Laden and al-Zawahri, Bush stated, "The beard looks real to me."

"Having released tons of audio recordings in the years since 2001, Osama bin Laden risks market saturation," said VH-1 video producer Deanne Holcomb, who was contacted in an effort to fill out the story. "That may have been a consideration in only appearing as a cameo in this recent release by al-Zawahri. Personally, I would have gone in another direction, maybe Missy Elliot, but bin Laden is really popular with the Al-Jazeera demographics. Beyoncé maybe. Beyoncé is huge right now. But as I was saying, having such a small part for bin Laden does raise questions about the Al-Qaeda leader, such as if he's out of practice, or gotten fat. He could be dead, I suppose, there were a lot of bombs dropped in attempts to kill him. Kid Rock! Now that might have really sold it."

President Bush fired back in a speech to the ten American people watching the Sept. 7 televised address. Though failing to mention the weapons of mass destruction supposedly hoarded by Saddam Hussein or a projected date for troops to return from Iraq, the president did assure everyone that terrorism was still alive and thriving and nobody can let their guard down for ten seconds. And by the way, they need $87 billion more dollars, if you can spare it.

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I present to you, the King of throw-away island. Slicing a trench into the past, dogwoods spread their sprays like drifting clouds, the most wasteful member of the tree family. "King Trapper of the North" is how they'd like to be remembered. Hardly. Tubers, seeds, runners, corms, bulbs, rhizomes, roots and spores fan out like chuck wagons clattering in a figure eight. A boy sets out; a man returns, chromosomes aligning. Less secret are the lichens, and the groundhogs are without good cause, like spoiled vultures. Shaded by the cursed dogwood. Among the toughest of living things, A.L. van den Brandeler makes quick with the axe to help me single-hand her.

You will feed during summer's abundance, mate, lay eggs and die. Try again later.

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Anyone who knows me should know I'm not political. Or at least I never thought I was. Which only means I never knew myself. Huh. How does something like that get by me? But it don't matter. I'm taking a stand, for once in my life. And it probably will be once. It's hard to take a stand for or against something. I keep forgetting I took a stand, and then I can't remember which side I'm on.

So I might as well tell you before I forget: I'm taking a stance against body grooming. Not all of it, mind you. I'm not some big slob or nothing. I'm still going to take my bath every couple of weeks, and I might even use soap. But no more of this bullshit about hair cutting and shaving and clipping nails and so on. It's all just a lot of crap made up by big business to sell us things we don't need, like electric razors and razors for the Amish and such.

Think about it: What would be the worst thing that would happen if you stopped cutting your fingernails today? Sure, a lot of fatcats who own nail clipper corporations would be out of luck. But you, with the long fingernails and toenails? If you get thrown out of a helicopter or airplane, you can just grab the side of a mountain or building on your way down. Save yourself from certain doom. That means we've been cutting our own throats by cutting our nails. And I'm done with all of it.

I'm done with haircuts, too. Done with lining some bigwig wig magnate's pockets with my hard-borrowed money by cutting off my hair and letting him come in after I've left to make some wig out of it. I recognize my hair, once in a while, when I see some bald guy wearing it on the street. Nobody else's hair curls just the way mine does. I'm losing all this hair out of ignorance and some greaseball with a dustpan and wig business is getting rich off my leavings. It's over, rich guys.

I'll just grow my hair out forever and ever. Grow it long, grow it high, grow it down to my ass, and then if it falls out from terror when it reaches that length, bury it proper and then grow it out again. I'm lucky to have hair. Even this hair. Some day I might be some old guy with huge bald patches and I'll remember all the huge patches of hair I left on a barber's floor in my youthful indiscretion. But that guy's not going to be me anymore. I'm keeping all of it, never cutting it again. And if any does fall out for any other reason, I'm going to develop an elaborate filing system to keep track of it all.

And I'm not going to cut or shave my crotch hair either. It probably goes without saying, but it always pisses off my mom when I talk about my crotch in my columns.

Face shaving is out, too. I've already got me the world's most beautiful moustache (despite what those elitists at Moustache Quarterly say) and I'm going to grow the world's coolest beard to be its buddy. They'll hang out together constantly, on my face, and go with me on fishing trips and to ball games. The best of friends until they grow old and gray together. I'll have a big thick beard and moustache, like that one famous religious guy—Manson.

The jury's still out on what to do with my urine and stools. But I've got plenty of jars, so there's lots of time before I have to come to a final decision on all that.

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