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Tuesday winners ousted on Thursday November 10, 2003 |
Frankfort, KY Snapper Mcgee/Molly Top: Former Governor-Elect Haley Barbour plays tiny violin for ousted Mississippi incumbent Governor Ronnie Musgrove. Bottom: More recent Governor-Elect Bumphrey Hoggs and his dummy Ron allege Haley Barbour is actually demonstrating his penis size. olitical upheaval, the most boring kind for most Americans, occurred when two governors newly-elected in Tuesday's election were recalled Friday in the world's quickest voter flip-flop.
"The voters have spoken, again," said newly-elected Mississippi governor Bumphrey Hoggs. "And it's clear they want a new direction for this state. A change from the last two days of special-interest control and pork-barrel politics."
Hoggs was only one of the two newly-elected governors replacing two governors newly-elected Tuesday. Hoggs replaced new Republican governor-elect of Mississippi Haley Barbour, a one-time lobbyist and alleged state trooper who pulled over this visiting reporter, while in Kentucky Republican Ernie "Hey Bert" Fletcher was replaced by Congressman Mike Re...
olitical upheaval, the most boring kind for most Americans, occurred when two governors newly-elected in Tuesday's election were recalled Friday in the world's quickest voter flip-flop.
"The voters have spoken, again," said newly-elected Mississippi governor Bumphrey Hoggs. "And it's clear they want a new direction for this state. A change from the last two days of special-interest control and pork-barrel politics."
Hoggs was only one of the two newly-elected governors replacing two governors newly-elected Tuesday. Hoggs replaced new Republican governor-elect of Mississippi Haley Barbour, a one-time lobbyist and alleged state trooper who pulled over this visiting reporter, while in Kentucky Republican Ernie "Hey Bert" Fletcher was replaced by Congressman Mike Redmunch in what political analysts only I know are calling "the most confusing 48-hour campaign in history."
Fletcher's concession speech Friday embodied the election confusion: "I, uh… What happened? Am I the governor or what?"
Redmunch ran a controversial dirty campaign accusing Fletcher of improprieties in his two-day reign as governor-elect, including mispronouncing several Kentucky counties' names. Local journalists, including The Lexington Sentinel, called the final stages of the campaign the dirtiest 24 hours Kentucky has ever witnessed, outside of the livestock incidents. Even stranger, Redmunch was a fellow Republican replacing the first Republican governor elect in the state in 32 years. According to publicists for Redmunch, the candidate defended his actions by saying he had already been in the race 13 hours when he received confirmation of Fletcher's Republican status, by which time it was "too late to back out."
"He may claim to be a Republican," accused Remunch, in an 11th-hour campaign appearance in the 43rd hour of his campaign, "but he certainly sounds like a Democrat from where I'm standing. And how about his record as governor? What has he done for us since taking office?"
Attempts by reporters to explain Governor-Elect Fletcher had not yet officially taken office were drowned out by loud populous applause.
The story was quite different in Mississippi, where Tuesday winner Republican Haley Barbour was unseated by bitter rival and former drinking buddy Democrat Bumphrey Hoggs following a contentious debate Wednesday at 5:30 a.m., 30 minutes before polls opened. Reactions to the debate were quite different, as television viewers, a majority of the 30, believed the attractive Hoggs won the debate, while radio listeners reportedly requested Skynyrd.
In both cases, private financiers led drives to petition for a quick recall vote following the announcement of election results Tuesday night. State supreme courts refused to hear the arguments against recall elections so soon, based on the fact they want a week's notice on all cases, and would not grant a temporary stay "out of interests to the insane reactionary voters, whose political opinions could easily change in the greater span of a week."
With the needed signatures gathered by 11 p.m. in Kentucky and 12:30 Tuesday in Mississippi, recall elections were set for Thursday. Both challenging campaigns spent in the range of $20-30,000 to unseat the recent electees.
All is not finished, however, as Republican financiers in Mississippi, who lost the seat Thursday they had gained only Tuesday, have already begun petitions to replace fresh incumbent Bumphrey Hoggs and to have an emergency "no tagbacks" declared to end petitions until another petition against such an action can be signed. the commune news cannot be recalled, as we are a private organization and are in no way subject to your piddling emotional outburst of political ignorance. That aside, thanks for reading! Raoul Dunkin is a star reporter during the ten minutes at the beginning of the day before everyone shows up.
| Incoming EPA Head Pledges to Mine Earth's Precious CoreEarlier policy of environmental protection reversed November 10, 2003 |
Washington, D.C. Alton Onus Leavitt, with anonymous wife, assures assembled crowd flags will be safe from corporate drilling, unless given really convincing reason otherwise. ichael O. Leavitt, the president's pick for head of the Environmental Protection Agency celebrated his first day on the job Thursday, with the promise to "eliminate the environment by 2010, and completely mine the Earth's precious core."
When questioned by reporters if eliminating the environment should be the aim of the EPA, Leavitt shrugged and said, "I gotta do something. I wasn't put here to sit on my butt."
Leavitt was a controversial choice for the four remaining liberals in the U.S., with a history of "fuck the environment" environmental policy in his former position as governor of Utah. Accusers point out Leavitt's passing of laws preventing lawsuits against agricultural polluters and his opening of Utah wilderness to build government roads through. Leav...
ichael O. Leavitt, the president's pick for head of the Environmental Protection Agency celebrated his first day on the job Thursday, with the promise to "eliminate the environment by 2010, and completely mine the Earth's precious core."
When questioned by reporters if eliminating the environment should be the aim of the EPA, Leavitt shrugged and said, "I gotta do something. I wasn't put here to sit on my butt."
Leavitt was a controversial choice for the four remaining liberals in the U.S., with a history of "fuck the environment" environmental policy in his former position as governor of Utah. Accusers point out Leavitt's passing of laws preventing lawsuits against agricultural polluters and his opening of Utah wilderness to build government roads through. Leavitt, contrastly, points to large sections of forest in California and makes bets on how fast they'll go up in flames if ignited.
The EPA's new leader arrived the day after the agency announced they were dropping 70 investigations of coal-burning power plants for disobeying local or national ordinances for output of pollutants. Leavitt confirmed Thursday it was part of the EPA's new policy, "I didn't see it. Did you see it?"
"The enviro-nuts out there can complain all they want," said Leavitt, munching on a California condor egg salad sandwich, "but tell me this: Did you see anything? I didn't see it. I wasn't there when they supposedly dumped all this smoke into the air. Who's to say it even happened?"
"Mmm," added Leavitt, "it's endangered-licious."
Critics accuse the White House of putting crony Leavitt in charge of the EPA in an effort to pussify the agency, part of an ever-growing trend by the Bush administration to save money and gain political favor with polluting companies by relaxing environmental laws. Leavitt has been denounced by environmental advocates before for his various outrageous plans to increase government income at the expense of the ecology. Some of his plans include lighting the Statue of Liberty's torch with real fire and allowing companies to blot out the sunlight so Americans can pay a surcharge to get it back.
Among Leavitt's most outspoken plans is to drill for fire in the Earth's core, a plan which he says could increase national income grossly and create exciting new areas of energy industry, and which opponents say will cause the Earth to collapse on itself and annihilate the human species.
"Where do we get heat from?" questioned Leavitt when he spoke at an alternative energy resources conference last month. "From coal, from gas, from the sun. We're almost out of the two and the other one is so far away we can't reach it. Coal comes from the Earth, right? Well, I'll bet you anything it's even hotter deeper in the Earth. We can take liquid magma, hot Earth core, and it can probably heat your home for a good two or three years."
When dissenters claimed the process of gutting the planet's innards would destroy all living things, Leavitt disagreed. "I say it's cheap energy. You say it's the apocalypse. The fair thing to do is let me try it and we'll see who's right."
"It's high time somebody did something about the environment," Leavitt said Thursday, at his inaugural conference. "We've been around for years and it just keeps getting worse. Everyone else may be tip-toeing around the obvious, but it's high time we destroyed it. And I'll be the one to do it, mark my words." the commune news appreciates the slack enforcement of environmental laws in the area, and we invite everyone to share in the natural warmth of the gasoline fire sometime. Ramrod Hurley is a spare correspondent, we keep him in the trunk for months at a time, and usually forget he already has a hole in him.
| Mark Buckles Some Sort of Cockwad Everyone kind of a little relieved Bob Hope finally dead Yale bombed, Harvard too drunk to walk home Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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November 10, 2003 Why is English So Retarded?Griswald Dreck on the language of the damned Anyone who receives a decent volume of correspondence from the American public will be convinced of one of two things. One is that the American public is retarded. The other is that the English language is retarded. A small subset may conclude that both are true, which is a mean but highly defensible position.
Unless you live on the campus of a major American university, or are rich enough to never have to shop at Wal-Mart, it is a dangerous proposition to believe the bulk of humanity inherently stupid, because the only way off that cruise ship to hell is a Winchester round in the mouth. It is a far better thing to point your stupid-blaming finger elsewhere, and in the case of mainstream America's inability to compose a coherent sentence or spell "comeuppance," the ripest targ...
º Last Column: Cursing the Fates º more columns
Anyone who receives a decent volume of correspondence from the American public will be convinced of one of two things. One is that the American public is retarded. The other is that the English language is retarded. A small subset may conclude that both are true, which is a mean but highly defensible position.
Unless you live on the campus of a major American university, or are rich enough to never have to shop at Wal-Mart, it is a dangerous proposition to believe the bulk of humanity inherently stupid, because the only way off that cruise ship to hell is a Winchester round in the mouth. It is a far better thing to point your stupid-blaming finger elsewhere, and in the case of mainstream America's inability to compose a coherent sentence or spell "comeuppance," the ripest target for pointing is indeed our very stupid language.
As anyone learning English for the first time can attest, it is clearly a language designed by a wretched and miserable people. Spelling holds no bearing on pronunciation, each letter makes several different sounds without rhyme or reason, and there are no accent markings whatsoever. The letters "X" and "C" are completely redundant. Words that are spelled entirely differently (won, one) are pronounced the same, yet have different meanings. Other words are spelled virtually the same but pronounced in wildly different ways (tough, though, thought). And we wonder why people moving to our country can never seem to master the language or make a decent Burrito Supreme.
Why is this, when people the world over who have vastly inferior weapons-making technology to ours still have languages that work fine? How did we manage to screw the pooch so completely in this most basic of tasks? The answer is the English language's roots as a bastard tongue that was never intended to be taken seriously in the first place.
English originated in 600 AD when some guys who were stoned were fucking around, making up words, and it soon spread as a way for little girls to alienate their parents while they were having sleepover parties. In short, it was the Pig Latin of its day. Over the years, more people in the lower classes began to use the language, since it was seen as a cool and antiestablishment way to communicate, more "street" than the stuffy proper languages of Europe. For hundreds of years there was no proper spelling of any word in English, writers spelled everything any damned way they pleased, but eventually the fad grew too big and the squares found out about it.
One giant square, Richard "Big Dork" Mulcaster of London, took it upon himself to devise a standardized spelling of English words. The socially maladjusted Mulcaster sought to prove his intellectual superiority by arranging the spelling of words not phonetically, but rather by extrapolating their historical origins. This was precisely the kind of thing that got him his ass kicked daily back in school, and for good reason.
Mulcaster, a back-of-the-closet homosexual, was terrified of homophones (words pronounced the same), and this greatly influenced his spelling scheme. Thanks to Mulcaster, virtually any combination of letters in English can be pronounced any way the writer likes, to avoid the possibility of spelling two different words the same way and being exposed as gay.
Between 1066 and 1400, England was ruled by the Normans, an insane clan of men who all had the same first name. They demanded that everyone speak Norman French, the same half-assed dialect American tourists speak when visiting Europe. By the time Henry IV reclaimed England for the English in 1399, the only people who remembered the English language at all were hilariously senile, and their vague remembrances became the foundation for modern English. But even then the language was not done being molested: In the 1400's the printing press was invented, and printing presses were run only by foreign immigrants who didn't know constant exposure to lead-based inks gives you cancer. Since printers were paid by the line, they frequently padded out words with extra letters to make their layouts more visually pleasing and profitable. In time, these skylarkings became standard English spellings of words since nobody cared and it was raining all the time anyhow.
This hideous amalgam of modern spelling had become standardized by 1700, with the first dictionary appearing in 1755. Between 1750 and 1850 both Benjamin Franklin and Noah Webster attempted to make some sense of the English language, but in the end only succeeded in adding more words, including the noun "noat" for a midget-sized ark and the verb "franklin'" for being blown off a toilet in the middle of the night by a bolt of lightning.
Shorthand inventor Sir Isaac Pitman, drawn to spelling reform by the nonsensical spelling of his first name, developed the Phonotype alphabet in 1842, which succeeded in inspiring all manner of freaks to come out of the woodwork and develop their own alphabets. When the writer George Bernard Shaw died in 1950, one condition of his will was that a new English alphabet be developed in his name, which led to the creation of the Shaw-script, a hilarious new alphabet that looks exactly like a Word document accidentally converted into Wingdings.
Subsequent attempts at "fixing" the English alphabet have been dismal failures, since even simple spelling reform makes words look goofy, and anyone who's spent twenty years learning to spell English sort-of correctly isn't about to chuck all that just to make things easier on little kids and immigrants. And so, th status kwo of th Inglish layngwaj lumbrs forwrd unchaynjd, az it haz sins 1755. º Last Column: Cursing the Fatesº more columns |
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Quote of the Day“No poor bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Unless we're talking Gandhi, but what fun is it taking a cudgel to the nuts for your country? None, that's how much.”
-Gorgeous George SpattenFortune 500 CookiePrepare for a fantastic journey of whimsy and wonder, and it's going to cost you $20—don't forget you can't touch her. Your keys are always in the last place you left them, so try looking at the bottom of Lake Chappaquiddick. What's up grandma's ass? What a bitch. When this particular problem comes along, literally whipping it will only result in jail time. Lucky skin blemishes: blackhead, pockmark, knife wound, stigmata.
Try again later.Top 5 Bush Second-Term Pledges1. | Encourage nations to work with us again, under threat of violence | 2. | Pay national deficit with Discover and Visa cards | 3. | Appeal to black constituents by finally selling off "Amos & Andy" videos | 4. | Build new wing of America so rich people can vacation more | 5. | Two, maybe even three more inaugurations | |
| Voter Turnout in Senate Hits All-Time LowBY albert daddyton 11/10/2003 Murder in the ToolshedThe cold and rainy, miserable, in a non-judgmental way, London weather was in full effect. At 612 Putter Street, Lord Marbles Pissweather sat quietly in his drawing room, away from the nastiness outside, sawing eloquently on his instrument. Not at all a euphemism, he really had an instrument.
It was at this time I, his loyal assistant Cap'n Trails, called upon his abode. The sound of nipple-exciting music filled the abode. Doffing my hat, I leaned into the drawing room and nodded a greeting to Lord Pissweather.
"I say, Pissweather, good show with that violin."
He put it aside in disappointment, picking up his clever affectation, a Chinese fingertrap. "Yes, quite excellent violin playing, if I may say so myself," agreed Pissweather. "Unfortunately,...
The cold and rainy, miserable, in a non-judgmental way, London weather was in full effect. At 612 Putter Street, Lord Marbles Pissweather sat quietly in his drawing room, away from the nastiness outside, sawing eloquently on his instrument. Not at all a euphemism, he really had an instrument.
It was at this time I, his loyal assistant Cap'n Trails, called upon his abode. The sound of nipple-exciting music filled the abode. Doffing my hat, I leaned into the drawing room and nodded a greeting to Lord Pissweather.
"I say, Pissweather, good show with that violin."
He put it aside in disappointment, picking up his clever affectation, a Chinese fingertrap. "Yes, quite excellent violin playing, if I may say so myself," agreed Pissweather. "Unfortunately, I was attempting to play the fiddle. 'Shortenin' Bread.' Damn this infernal instrument! How I can play the violin at master concerto level and sound like a mental defect playing the fiddle confounds my exceptional logic."
"I wish we had more time to continue this conversation, Pissweather…"
"Really? I had grown quite tired of it already."
"But I'm afraid we have a case to investigate. The Lady Mohoward sexily requests your presence at her estate. I'm afraid there's been—ooo, dreadful to say this outloudly—a murder in the toolshed!"
"How titular," grumbled Pissweather. "Still, I presume we should be moving along right away. The lady awaits."
The Mohoward estate was full of lush greenage and primoweed, adorned foremost with a 3,010-room mansion with ornate pre-Caligula Roman architecture. Pissweather and I made our way to the front door via horse-drawn cart. The horse was homosexual.
"Odd, do you not think—how many rooms do you estimate are in this mansion, Trails?"
"3,010, according to Lady Mohoward, and my narration," I responded.
"3,011—nobody ever counts the guest room," informed Pissweather. "My point, however, is, of all these rooms, why murder someone in the toolshed?"
"Indeed, Pissweather," I kissed up. "It seems to implicate the gardener, Mr. Gardner."
"Yes, if you're easily taken in by deception," said Pissweather, removing his stuck fingers from the Chinese fingertrap. "Damn! Consider this, however: Several of these larger gardens contain the unique African vegetation Plottus Convenienus. It's a rare plant that actually eats blood and evidence. If you were the gardener—"
"Mr. Gardner."
"Correct—would you not be well aware of the evidence-eating properties of the very plants you brought to the estate?"
"Egad, I'm a dimwit! What exactly are you all but explicitly stating, Pissweather?"
"Simplicity, Trails," smirked Pissweather. "The murder was most likely not committed by the gardener—"
"Mr. Gardner."
"Correct—Not committed by him, but by someone who wanted to frame Mr. Gardner, and cover up their crime. One of the estate's more prominent residents."
"Shitcrackers, Pissweather!" I exclaimed.
For more of this great story, buy Albert Daddyton's Murder in the Toolshed |