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Afghan President Steps in for Vice-PresidentNew president sought after confusing transfer of power July 8, 2002 |
Kabul, Afghanistan Snapper McGee Former Afghan President, now Vice-President Hamid Karzai (left, pictured with his Uncle Junior) plays a solemn funeral march on a water bottle. ollowing the assassination of Afghan Vice-President Abdul Qadir by armed terrorists Saturday, Afghan President Hamid Karzai immediately took over the role of Vice-President within a few short hours of the incident.
"As of this time, I am now second in command of the country of Afghanistan," Karzai said to a small gathering of reporters in the presidential bunker.
When pressed by western and Middle Eastern reporters alike on the logic of stepping down to fill a position below you, Karzai did not respond. He ended the press conference when persistent inquiries as to who is now the president of Afghanistan came up. Reporters were shuffled from the bunker by burly guards, one of whom we swear used to work at Studio 54.
The late Qadir was an important p...
ollowing the assassination of Afghan Vice-President Abdul Qadir by armed terrorists Saturday, Afghan President Hamid Karzai immediately took over the role of Vice-President within a few short hours of the incident.
"As of this time, I am now second in command of the country of Afghanistan," Karzai said to a small gathering of reporters in the presidential bunker.
When pressed by western and Middle Eastern reporters alike on the logic of stepping down to fill a position below you, Karzai did not respond. He ended the press conference when persistent inquiries as to who is now the president of Afghanistan came up. Reporters were shuffled from the bunker by burly guards, one of whom we swear used to work at Studio 54.
The late Qadir was an important part of the rebuilding of Afghanistan's government. The veteran Pashtun warlord was believed a stabilizing influence and supporter of U.S. action in the country, and with him gone, that stability is now in question. With Karzai unintentionally demoting himself to a secondary position, it may be up to the U.S. to call upon a new president and then responsibility placed on the people of Afghanistan to "elect" them in a fair election, like the kind that put George W. Bush in office.
With the future of Afghanistan again under pressure, advice is coming in from strange circles.
"This never should have happened, and measures should be instituted to prevent it from happening again," said CEO of WorldCom Inc. John Sidgmore. "I may not know assassinations and domestic terrorism, but I know power structures and fire coming up from below. You never want to have just one person beneath you on a pyramid. I suggest at least three, maybe up to ten Vice Presidents to create that solid second floor. That way if things start crumbling underneath you from the bottom up, you've at least got a few more bodies in the way before you hit the ground."
The president was also reached for his obligatory quote.
"It's a sad day for the Afghanistanian people," said the president, then nodding to affirm what he had said. "That guy they lost was a valued member of our foreign department. It's a sad day for his family and the people who liked him, of which I understand there are many. The people who don't like him are having a happy day, but their happy day will turn into a sad day when we catch up with them. And that will be a happy day for us."
When questioned about Karzai's decision to step in for the fallen Vice President, Bush's resolve was tempered and cautious. "It's a very brave step, although we will wait and see if it was good or not. I have a vice president. I know that I would be terrified if something happened to him, and with his heart running like a '69 Impala, that possibility is always lurking in the shadows." the commune news sends its liver out to the people of Afghanistan, its heart still not yet returned from San Francisco. Ivan Nacutchacokov is a commune foreign correspondent and has been gathering dust with our lack of overseas reporting until lately.
| Texans to Rain Clouds: Don't Mess with TexasFull-scale redneck attack on Mother Nature follows flooding July 8, 2002 |
New Braunfels, TX Junior Bacon Mother nature has picked the wrong state to mess with this time esponding to a week of heavy rains and severe flooding that has destroyed more than 200 homes and forced the evacuation of thousands of residents, Texans statewide have banded together to take back their state from Mother Nature. Seeking to live out the meaning of their state creed, "Don't Mess with Texas," Texans have waged an all-out war on the storm systems that have pummeled their state in recent days.
"First, it started out with some hooting and hollering, just letting off some steam after my house got washed down the river with all my guns still inside," explained New Braunfels resident Stymie Rauch. "Then when my pickup got washed away too, that struck me as personal and enough was enough so I gave them rain clouds a good what-for. I'll admit, there was some blue langua...
esponding to a week of heavy rains and severe flooding that has destroyed more than 200 homes and forced the evacuation of thousands of residents, Texans statewide have banded together to take back their state from Mother Nature. Seeking to live out the meaning of their state creed, "Don't Mess with Texas," Texans have waged an all-out war on the storm systems that have pummeled their state in recent days.
"First, it started out with some hooting and hollering, just letting off some steam after my house got washed down the river with all my guns still inside," explained New Braunfels resident Stymie Rauch. "Then when my pickup got washed away too, that struck me as personal and enough was enough so I gave them rain clouds a good what-for. I'll admit, there was some blue language involved that you aren't likely to hear at a nun's funeral. But them rain clouds knew what, they had it comin."
Inspired by Rauch's example, other New Braunfels residents swore and threw rocks at the clouds from the roofs of their homes, which were each comfortably stocked with several cases of lite beer and battery-powered television sets in case of a longer-than-usual flood.
New Braunfelite John Richard Stubing elevated the protest to an armed conflict when he begin firing his shotgun into the sky, signaling that he was mad as hell and also out of Frito dip. Neighbors cheered from their rooftops and an unknown hillrod waved a Texas state flag in support from a rowboat he was piloting up Honeysuckle Lane.
Word of the New Braunfels resistance movement spread like Billy Ray Cyrus haircuts across the state and within hours groups of armed Texans were wading through the streets and brandishing firearms in several Central Texas towns. Clever commemorative tee-shirts were printed up in record time featuring the cloud-mocking catchphrase "G'on Now, Git" and by nightfall country singer Toby Keith had released a timely single entitled "Mother Nature Ain't No Mother of Mine (The Pissed-off Texan)."
By Saturday, calls had been made to former Texas governor and current U.S. president by default George W. Bush to dispatch the U.S. nuclear arsenal in response to the clouds' aggressions against the people of Texas. Current governor Rick Perry publicly supported the use of nuclear force and all other necessary holy hell to send a message to the storm front. Perry summed up the state government's position as "Be you a cloud or be you from Amarillo, you know that when you rattle the big dog's cage, that big dog just might give you a bite for your troubles. Look out, weather."
Some Texas activists, however, were not content to wait for the wheels of government to get around to turning. Saturday afternoon, Patrick Scott, the president of cable television's The Weather Channel, was kidnapped from his Atlanta home. A letter described as "sort of like a ransom note" was discovered at the scene, though only the phrase "We gotcha by the balls now!" has been released to the press.
Meanwhile, residents across the state waged war on Mother Nature into the evening on Saturday, pulling down trees with pickup trucks, stomping on flowers and spraying aerosol products straight into the sky. A man was arrested near San Antonio for feeding chili to penguins at the zoo and a grassroots movement took hold among Texans who defiantly refused to cut up their six-pack rings before discarding them.
However, by Sunday a soggy and hung-over Texas awoke feeling plum tuckered out and noticeably less defiant. Talk had turned to the wisdom of passive resistance in the struggle against Mother Nature. Sunday conversations were dominated by discussion of magazine-drying techniques and boasts of homes to be rebuilt bigger and better in the exact same spots, only with game rooms and hot tubs this time around. Other Texas discussed the feasibility of developing waterproof bubble-domes to cover houses or outfitting trailer homes with pontoons.
Meteorologists had previously predicted a few more days of heavy rain for Central Texas, followed by dry weather, but are now withholding their Texas forecasts until Patrick Scott is returned safely. the commune news is like neither a raven nor a writing desk, but does like a good riddle from time to time. Not to mention feeling a strange affinity toward ads for Jacuzzis and teeth whiteners. Ivan Nacutchacokov greatly appreciates the travel opportunities his commune job affords him, and has sent Red Bagel a pair of water-logged ruined sneakers as a token of his gratitude.
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July 8, 2002 I'm Through Trying to Invent New Drugsthe commune's Clarissa Coleman gets high marks for effort Drug lords of the world can rest easier now, Clarissa Coleman is out of the narcotics business once and for all.
Before the feds jump on my gullet they should know I didn't really mess with anything illegal. Coca plants or whatever they call them, cannabis, all of that already illegal stuff is off limits as far as I'm concerned. The whole point of getting involved in narcotics in the first place was to create a drug that's both legal and gets you fucked up. And I think I can say I failed, so have no fear, D.A.R.E., you won't have to keep kids away from my product. It doesn't exist.
Everybody enjoys a little buzz now and again, let's not kid anybody. I'm sure Bob Dole got lit on something now and then, I have a friend who has a messed up arm like that and he sure d...
º Last Column: I Don't Understand America's Love Affair with Books º more columns
Drug lords of the world can rest easier now, Clarissa Coleman is out of the narcotics business once and for all.
Before the feds jump on my gullet they should know I didn't really mess with anything illegal. Coca plants or whatever they call them, cannabis, all of that already illegal stuff is off limits as far as I'm concerned. The whole point of getting involved in narcotics in the first place was to create a drug that's both legal and gets you fucked up. And I think I can say I failed, so have no fear, D.A.R.E., you won't have to keep kids away from my product. It doesn't exist.
Everybody enjoys a little buzz now and again, let's not kid anybody. I'm sure Bob Dole got lit on something now and then, I have a friend who has a messed up arm like that and he sure didn't serve in the Gulf or wherever. Just an acid trip that confined itself to his right arm and has yet to stop. My challenge, as I thought of it while getting baked a few weekends ago, was to create a legal upper/downer/all-arounder and peddle it to my friends, family, and yes, some street junkies or whoever wanted a hit of my wonder drug.
Some of you are probably thinking I don't have what it takes to make a highly-addictive non-lethal narcotic, since I never got my college degree or anything. But you naysayers can hold your tongues. I'm sure the guy with crack had a lot of guys telling him he couldn't do it, like the D.E.A. or the cocaine companies. I'm not going to let that stop me.
I will, however, let failure stop me. And I've had way too much of it. Don't let anyone fool you, the guy who created crack must have been a scientist or something, though I don't know of any college that has a major drug research and development department. Maybe he's self-taught, but either way I wouldn't want to challenge him at chess. Because he's got to be smart, and I don't know how to play chess anyway.
Really I'm not saying I can't create an exciting psychotropic chemical trip in bite-sized pill form, I'm just saying that I can't do it with the equipment currently available to me. Which is to say a bath tub and a blender. I've bought tons of cleaning chemicals and food spices, hoping some kind of combination will produce the exact kind of buzz I'm looking for: A sustained feeling of exhilaration or light-headedness. Instead of such a feeling I've often just created some mild or severe form of chemical poison which has resulted in three trips to the emergency room and too many blackouts to count. Doctors have advised me to give up my experiments entirely, or at least stop using window cleaner, it's a dead end.
I may be finished with drug creation for good. At least until there's no more blood in my stool. It's probably for the best. Leave the drugs to the drug scientists and the Child Star columns to the Child Star columnists, I say, at least just now I said it.
It's too bad, I had real visions for safe, legal alternative to the current crop of dangerous drugs out there. I was only really stopped by the fact I have no business working with chemicals or drugs in any fashion. Until the day I hook up with someone to do that mule work for me I guess I'll be stuck as a fan of drugs rather than part of the creative process. º Last Column: I Don't Understand America's Love Affair with Booksº more columns |
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Milestones2001: Red Bagel foolishly promises paid vacations next year, only to be later surprised the commune still in business at that time.Now HiringRoadie. Duties include setting up mics, antagonizing audience hours before band comes on, picking up busty ladies of legal age for private band business. No pay, work for throwaway ladies.Worst-Selling Children's Books1. | Green Eggs and Bad Fish | 2. | The Little Engine That Could But Just Plain Wouldn't | 3. | Bi-Curious George and His Carribean Cruise | 4. | Tales of an Armed Four Grade Nothing | 5. | Where the Wild Things are Edited for Television | |
| United States Acquires Mexico at Swap MeetBY marcus mcfadden 7/8/2002 Your HonorA little dog choked on a draidel, a ladle, a can of beef stew and a wicker kazoo.
His owner, a loner from Kalamazoo, in a wrath drew a bath that he filled up with glue. The soup of white goop he stirred with an oar and what's more he added the dog and a log and a piece of the floor. He stirred it with vigor and vim and panache, until he was spent and broke out in a rash.
The concoction he auctioned in a giant condom as art, except for a quantity he wheeled away in a cart and fed into a gun made for frosting a barge, the work was exhausting but the payoff was large. The gun, when done, was loaded for bear, and he shot the whole mixture into Bono's hair.
Bono y mano they boxed on the pier, as Bono thought guano had been dumped in his ear. And though in...
A little dog choked on a draidel, a ladle, a can of beef stew and a wicker kazoo.
His owner, a loner from Kalamazoo, in a wrath drew a bath that he filled up with glue. The soup of white goop he stirred with an oar and what's more he added the dog and a log and a piece of the floor. He stirred it with vigor and vim and panache, until he was spent and broke out in a rash.
The concoction he auctioned in a giant condom as art, except for a quantity he wheeled away in a cart and fed into a gun made for frosting a barge, the work was exhausting but the payoff was large. The gun, when done, was loaded for bear, and he shot the whole mixture into Bono's hair.
Bono y mano they boxed on the pier, as Bono thought guano had been dumped in his ear. And though in the row, Bono thought his chances fair, he fought a lot worse with a nurse in his hair. And a canary and Jerry Saint Michael Saint Clair, a tuba and scuba gear all stuck to his hair. A tourist, a jurist, a ski and a scone, a plate of hot pancakes and a man who lived all alone, so many things stuck to Bono's wet hairdo, that he had his ass kicked back to Kalamazoo.
And when he got there such a fuss was made, the locals and yokels thought it some kind of parade. A Bono ass-kicking-glue-covered-parade, with battalions and stallions and pink lemonade, and twelve birds exotic and others aquatic and a robot that could curse in French, some plate-spinning Cubans and ducks eating Reubens and a stunning gold-plated park bench, the mayor and layers of sedimentary players who honked out a tune flat as figs, and pigs wearing wigs dancing Arabian jigs with undoubtable intentions untoward, all had the luck to be quite well stuck to Bono's now overstacked gourd.
It took a Nobel Prize winner and a sea of paint thinner to free the whole crowd from the mess. Not to mention an army of lawyers dressed up as Tom Sawyers to explain the whole thing to the press.
And that there your honor, Judge Franklin O'Connor is all that I have to report.
And now you can see quite
with benefit of hindsight
why I was today late for court. |