pset that the domain name jerryfalwell.com is being used as a parody site to lampoon the words and actions of one of America's best-known televangelists, the Reverend Jerry Falwell is busy these days buying up domain names of his own to prevent any further satire from being posted on the Internet. Already he has purchased such names as jerryfalwellisaloudmouthasshole.com, jerryfalwellatemyballs.com and jerryfalwellsucksdonkeydick.com.

In addition to those names, he has also put money down to prevent such sites as jerryfalwelljerksoffgoats.com, jerryfalwelltakesituptheass.com and jerryfalwellisafuckingignorantshithead.com from becoming highly-visible web pages that might get hundreds of hits a day from well-meaning Christians seeking more information about him.

"I'm snapping those puppies up as fast as I can," Reverend Falwell was quoted as saying. "Right now I've got dozens more waiting in the wings. Just this morning, I sent checks to cover jerryfalwelltonguesmyanus.com, jerryfalwelleatsshitanddies.com, and one that I thought was really disturbing, jerryfalwellswallowshyenaspunk.com."

He went on to lament that "Good Christians everywhere have a right to be spared from this sort of filth. What do you think would happen if some innocent young person got on the Internet and, in trying to find out something about one of my pronouncements that God is going to punish America with a meteor or a severe hurricane because it allows homosexuals and abortionists to live, that young person accidentally clicked on jerryfalwellsuckedafartoutofmyass.com? Why, the whole moral fiber of this great country is at stake."

The most recent domain names purchased by Reverend Falwell have included jerryfalwellisafascistmotherfucker.com, jerryfalwellblowshimself.com, jerryfalwelldrownsinmenstrualjuices.com, and jerryfalwelllikesdaffodils.com.

Asked about that last name, Reverend Falwell explained, "Well, I do like daffodils, especially the yellow and white kind. I thought, since I'm buying a bunch of domain names anyway, why not get one that I like? I mean, have you ever seen how a big bunch of white and yellow daffodils can brighten up a room? I just love them. Them and sweetpeas. Oh, you should see what the room looks like when you get a bunch of white and yellow daffodils and mix in some sweetpeas that are all different colors. It's a glory to God, I'm telling you."

There was no word on whether Reverend Falwell's compatriot Pat Robertson would be purchasing any similar domain names in the near future, though this reporter did discover that an unkown person paid money recently for the rights to use patrobertsonisafuckingdickheadliar.com.

n the face of wildly escalating violence in Israel and Palestine, political commentators the world over have been looking to American President George W. Bush for a sign as to the path America will take in dealing with the Mideast crisis. After making an early dismissive statement about how at least the Palestinians don't have flight schools, Bush had been conspicuously quiet on the issue. Some observers theorized that the president was carefully weighing America's options before he made a public statement, while others argued that his attentions had been split between a new model train set and the Fox prime-time drama 24. Today's announcement might have proved either side correct.

In a press conference this morning, Bush unveiled plans for a new Office of Martyr Prevention, headed by syndicated radio call-in therapist Dr. Judy Kuriansky and manned by a staff of 300 licensed suicide-prevention professionals who will be available via a toll-free telephone number 24 hours a day.

"I have created the OMP in response to the internationalary outcry for American action to address the Mideast peacelessness," Bush stated. "Suicide bombers are threatening world peace and the time has come to find a solution. These young men and women need to be shown that there are other, better ways to express their anger and frustration than blowing up a Circle K with explosive underpants.The answer is not to perpetuate terroristical attacks of an inhumanitarian nature. I understand that the people of Palestine, and other miserable places I need not mention by name, need a shoulder to cry on. Now they know that America is there for them, over thousands of miles of telephone wires. No need to come here, we'll pick up the phone bill. There's nothing to blow up here that you couldn't blow up back home, anyway. Operators are standing by."

Dr. Judy Kuriansky accepted her appointment with a brief speech on the Mideast situation. "It's time to break the cycle of violence. The time has come for Palestinian youth to understand that the dark, dead pit of bile in their chests is not the bitterness of living in a relocation slum or the dull ache of hunger, nor is it some tiny embryonic Jew implanted in their chests that's gnawing at their internal organs, regardless of what their newspapers tell them. It's the all-too-familiar ache of feelings yearning to be expressed.

"What we need here is communication. Palestine needs to stand up and say to Israel: 'It hurt my feelings when you kicked the snot out of our armed forces back in 1967.' And Israel needs to say to Palestine: 'Hey, asshole, if you hadn't attacked us then you wouldn't have lost all the land you're bitching about now. What's your freakin' problem, anyway?' And Palestine needs to say back to Israel: 'Listen, we never agreed to let you guys move in here in the first place, and now you're trying to force us all to move to Jordan. Fuck Jordan, Jordan sucks.' And then the UN needs to come over and slap them both on the back and say: 'Alright, you're all a bunch of assholes, but we need to do something about this or the rest of the world is going to run out of explosives.' Then the UN can take them both out and get them drunk and hope they have sex together and we end up with a bunch of Jewrab babies so nobody can tell who they're supposed to blow up any more. But my point is that communication is the key."

National reaction to today's announcement has been typically harsh, with many critics pointing out that there aren't any Circle K stores in the Middle East. At press time, OMP staffers had received three phone calls: two wrong numbers looking for Sears AutoCenter and a call from Iowa asking if it was possible to overdose on mini-marshmallows.

Reactions from Palestine have been even less promising, with Hamas leader Zaccaria Walid Akel promising a large cash reward for the family of the first suicide bomber to blow up OMP headquarters.

Now I know you been lookin' at me strange lately, Shorty, an I think the time has showed up for me to do a little explainin'. Thing is, I've been changed, Shorty, and sad as it may be they ain't never no goin' back. A new world been opened up for Jeeter an it's time I got to follow my callin'.

It all started a couple o' weeks ago. I was out at Snuffy's with Carl, you know the fella what has the big compost pile offa Dirt Bank road. Carl had him one of them laser doo-dads the big shots use when they want to point out somethin' they think everybody should notice. An you know Carl, Shorty, weren't long before he was foolin' around with the doo-dad, tryin' to shine it on airplanes that was flyin' by and tryin' to flash it up ladies' skirts and whatnot, an he got himself a little carried away an ended up flashing that doo-dad right in my nekkid eye.

Now I know what you're thinkin', Shorty, but don't get scared now, since I'm here tellin' you this story so you got to know it didn't go an burn out my brain like some science friction nightmare. You still got a partner for the tic-tac-toe tourney next month, an he ain't no hole-in-the-brain mormon, neither. But when Carl done shot that flasher into my eye-ball, I did see a beam o' redness an got dizzy in my head, an when I woke up I was layin' out on the street, ass-deep in a pot hole with no memory about what had gone on beforst.

'Course, Shorty, you know that weren't much different than your average Saturday night, so I didn't think much nothing of it. But not long after that I started to notice some strange thoughts a-brewin' in the ol' Jeeter brain-trap. Not normal strange thoughts, neither, like thinkin' great big fat womens is sexy. No siree. These was some powerful brain-rumblins about science and maths an' whatnot. An the next thing I know I was in my garage, buildin' on some new-fangled inventions what gonna change the world. Laugh if you might, Shorty, but you won't be who's laughin' when Jeeter's drivin' around in his car what runs offa toilet paper, will ya? An I imagine you'll want to be warmin' up your hands around my new skunk furnace come wintertime, I have to imagine. We're gonna be rich, Shorty, as soon as I get me one of them pattons for my Smellarm Clock an my flypaper wallpaper, I tell you no lie.

But it ain't just that, Shorty. It ain't all just new doo-dads and whatnots I got spinnin' around up in the attic. I got me them deep thoughts as well. Like what for we gotta bury folks in a coffin for, anyhow? It's not like they gonna crawl on up outta the ground we don't nail 'em in a box first. An when you're makin' breakfast chow, what comes first: the chitlins or the eggos? Lots of them head-scratchers scratchin' round up in my head, Shorty.

But don't you worry, old friend. I ain't gonna get no big head just 'cause my head got bigger. I'm still the same ol' Jeeter. Just cause I learnt French last night in one sittin', while you was pickin' your toes and watchin' a fly try to get out the closed window, don't mean we ain't still tight. When we go out to the France restaurant, you an' me, you just let me do the talkin'. When I say "Parkay food, Frenchie?" to the fella in the duck suit, you just keep your trap snapped and we'll be knee-deep in corned beef before you know what.

Stick with me, Shorty. We're headed somewheres.

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