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NRA Wages Court Battle Against RealityMythical transformation to boost "silly" influence to "berserk" December 8, 2003 |
Washington, D.C. Sloe Lorenzo NRA mouthpiece Wayne LaPierre shares his hilarious impression of a deer caught in an NRA member's sights pparently feeling that the current national climate is as ripe a time as any for a complete break from any recognizable form of reality, the National Rifle Association is attempting to buy a television or radio station this week, in hopes of declaring itself a news organization exempt from spending restrictions in the campaign finance law.
"We're looking at bringing a court case that we're as legitimate a media outlet as Disney or Viacom or Time-Warner or any of those places," explained Wayne LaPierre, the NRA's own version of commune whale tampon Raoul Dunkin. An uncomfortable silence followed after this reporter stopped laughing.
According to LaPierre, the NRA is one of the biggest magazine publishers in the United States, with an impressive stable of nearly a...
pparently feeling that the current national climate is as ripe a time as any for a complete break from any recognizable form of reality, the National Rifle Association is attempting to buy a television or radio station this week, in hopes of declaring itself a news organization exempt from spending restrictions in the campaign finance law.
"We're looking at bringing a court case that we're as legitimate a media outlet as Disney or Viacom or Time-Warner or any of those places," explained Wayne LaPierre, the NRA's own version of commune whale tampon Raoul Dunkin. An uncomfortable silence followed after this reporter stopped laughing.
According to LaPierre, the NRA is one of the biggest magazine publishers in the United States, with an impressive stable of nearly a dozen publications, including "American Rifleman," "Patriotic American Hunter," "Gun Nut," and "Buck-Naked Beer-Swilling Bitches."
Since the NRA has such extensive experience bringing news to the mullet-wearing portion of America's magazine-buying public, LaPierre argues that the NRA should enjoy the same political benefits enjoyed by organizations with less-embarrassing member ranks.
"I defy you to convince me that the NRA is any different from those organizations, just because they actually have news departments and wear pants around the office," said LaPierre, himself clad in pajama bottoms adorned with a machine-gun pattern. "We're just as legitimate a news source as any of them are, even more so when you consider the way they ignore the obvious gun angle in everyday stories." LaPierre further argued that paranoid gun freaks have as much a right as anyone to be represented in the media, but this reporter can't be sure of the exact quote as my notes just contain a doodle of a cow shitting on a scale for this part of the story.
The NRA's latest moves can be seen as a sign of the times, as there have been few periods in history when a lobbying group would so boldly admit to circumventing campaign reform legislation in hopes of buying influence in next year's elections.
Historically one of Washington's most powerful and twitchy lobbies, the 4 million-member NRA has spent millions over the years supporting pro-gun candidates. Since the organization is financed with corporate money, under the campaign finance law of 2002 it is currently banned from running ads mentioning candidates by name during the two months preceding a general election. News organizations are exempt from such restrictions, allowing them to cover the news and follow elections without being accused of shilling for political candidates.
Convinced that the NRA is capable of such impartial and unbiased political coverage, LaPierre promises that the NRA and its lawyers will continue to fight this attack on their "First Amendment rights," possibly even going so far as to broadcast pro-gun ads from ships anchored in international waters at election time. Another uncomfortable silence followed after this reporter stopped laughing. the commune news has also brought several of its own lawsuits in an effort to be considered a media organization, but thus far the orderly connotations of the term "organization" have been a difficult sticking point. Ivana Folger-Balzac isn't a card-carrying member of the NRA, but as a gun-carrying card she is often mistaken for the same.
| Ohio Freeway Shootings Normal, Say LocalsDecember 8, 2003 |
Columbus-area hillrod points to physical evidence that he really did shoot an apple off his wife’s head ccording to Columbus residents, in spite drawing considerable national media attention the recent series of fourteen unsolved freeway shootings over the last few months are business as usual for the southern Ohio city.
“The media likes to make a big deal out of this because of those Black Panthers or whatever it was shooting up the gas customers in D.C., but they’re just looking for something to sell,” explained lifelong resident Tammy Kennedy. “Actually this year’s not as bad as normal, I got shot three times last year. But I think that was partly because I was driving a red car. I sold that car and got one that blends in better with the road this year.”
“The thing you have to understand is it’s hunting season,” said Columbus mayor Richar...
ccording to Columbus residents, in spite drawing considerable national media attention the recent series of fourteen unsolved freeway shootings over the last few months are business as usual for the southern Ohio city.
“The media likes to make a big deal out of this because of those Black Panthers or whatever it was shooting up the gas customers in D.C., but they’re just looking for something to sell,” explained lifelong resident Tammy Kennedy. “Actually this year’s not as bad as normal, I got shot three times last year. But I think that was partly because I was driving a red car. I sold that car and got one that blends in better with the road this year.”
“The thing you have to understand is it’s hunting season,” said Columbus mayor Richard Freebing. “That always plays a factor. If this were happening in July, that might be cause for alarm… unless there had been a gun show recently. Then it would still be normal. Or if the Bengals won or something. But any time of year it happens. Once you strip away the media hype, all you know is that people get shot in Ohio. That’s it, big deal. So we’re not too worried about it. You have to accept that everybody gets shot, it’s just a fact of life.”
Ohio transport authorities closed a section of Interstate 270 Saturday night to perform ballistics tests in hopes of returning the bullets to their rightful owners. The 20-mile stretch of highway between I-70 East and I-70 West was closed from 5 p.m. EST to 7 p.m. EST Saturday, according to Chief Deputy Steve Martin of the Franklin County Sheriff’s Department. The closure was made necessary so investigators from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms could take ballistics measurements while the road was clear of cars and gunfire. He said the work needs to be done at night but would not elaborate.
Unnamed sources for the commune, however, indicated that an escalating series of boasts between ATF agents had led to the necessity of the testing being done in pitch black, by blindfolded agents who had their hands tied behind their backs. Representatives for the ATF denied these allegations, explaining instead that the timing was for safety reasons, as field agents believed they’d be harder to shoot at night.
Thus far the 2003 Columbus shootings have resulted in only one death, that of 62-year-old Gail Knisley, who was hit by a stray bullet while she was shooting at a passing motorist who had cut her off in traffic. However, several abandoned buildings have been damaged in the shooting spree, and a local duck is listed in critical condition.
Though local residents believe the shootings are linked only by falling into the “stuff shot in Ohio” category, they have not been immune to the national media attention. Local police have had their hands full in recent weeks, fielding dozens of complaints from residents who want to be a part of the media circus. Sunday, a woman driving near the southern section of I-270 heard a noise and found she had a flat tire, according to police. No bullet was recovered in that incident, but the paint on the car was scratched and there were several “bullet hole” decals affixed to the driver-side door of the vehicle.
Early Monday, a home bordering that highway in the city of Obetz was struck by a bullet. No one was in the residence at the time, Martin said, holstering his revolver and whistling at his own impressive marksmanship. the commune news has never been shot, a fact we attribute to our strict policy of taking the term "flyover country" literally. Ramon Nootles has never fired a gun blindly over his shoulder while fleeing a drug deal gone bad, but he sure talks as if he has.
| 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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December 8, 2003 A Third Sniper is Still on the Looseby Red Bagel Here's a phrase I've never said before: Good work, police. It goes against everything I stand for at heart and everything the stoner counter-culture who makes up our fanbase believes, but in this particular case, the five-O did their jobs well in apprehending Malvo and Muhammad, the famous snipers of last year. Some have called them the East Coast Killers, but myself, finding it distasteful to so lightly treat the subject of murderers, prefer to call them the Deathmasque.
But I package that compliment with a chiding, for no extra charge. For the snipers, whatever you call them, have only been two-thirds apprehended.
Gasp, if you're inclined. Then close your mouth before the flies take up residence. Bagel shits you not, Americans. A third sniper is out their runn...
º Last Column: I Never Promised You a Rose Garden º more columns
Here's a phrase I've never said before: Good work, police. It goes against everything I stand for at heart and everything the stoner counter-culture who makes up our fanbase believes, but in this particular case, the five-O did their jobs well in apprehending Malvo and Muhammad, the famous snipers of last year. Some have called them the East Coast Killers, but myself, finding it distasteful to so lightly treat the subject of murderers, prefer to call them the Deathmasque.
But I package that compliment with a chiding, for no extra charge. For the snipers, whatever you call them, have only been two-thirds apprehended.
Gasp, if you're inclined. Then close your mouth before the flies take up residence. Bagel shits you not, Americans. A third sniper is out their running around loose, or possibly ambling, I make no bold statement concerning his walking speed. But this third sniper is free still, and if you need any more proof, check out the recent shootings in Ohio. Police may say they're unrelated shootings, but what have the police ever done for us, besides catching the first two snipers?
Who is this sniper? Do I look like the cops to you? Not my job to wildly speculate on the identities of snipers, folks, only to wildly accuse them of being larger in number than they've previously indicated.
I suppose you want to know my source, source-nosers. You would think after all this time I have more than earned your trust. After all, I've delivered pretty amazing information over the years—information so amazing, would I were to hear it for the first time, I certainly would be too agape to ask for proof. But I understand your need for verification—we live in a hard world that demands facts rather than rhetoric.
And this source, if I am at liberty to say, is among the most reliable I've ever consulted. I was reluctant to believe such an outrageous tale as the three-gunman theory, but my source revealed to me such conclusive evidence I could not refute it. Trajectories, shell plating, sight lines—all such confusing forensic jargon I had no choice but believe. One-hundred and ten percent proof two people could not have, under any normal human circumstances, committed those crimes alone.
Not to belabor the point, but when I think about it a little more, I really have earned a little more credit than you're giving me. I announce to you some of the most amazing conspiracy news of our fresh young century and all you want to hear is names, names, names—of sources, sources, sources. Thanks for the credit, he sarcastically remarked. But I think I've made my point.
Anyone examining the current talk of insanity pleas in the Malvo trial, or studying the Muhammad trial transcripts carefully can see (and it doesn't take my pointing out) there is subtle reference to a third individual. The question is: Who is this third individual, and why have the Malvo-Muhammad duo and their lawyers kept silent about it until now?
You know, what does a source really prove? Oh, someone else knows about this information as well. But what does that matter to you, Mr. and Mrs. Middle America, you wouldn't know some D.C.-area librarian from a Hoboken mental patient. A big-time Washington-area insider could mean complete legitimacy to those in the know, but if you don't know him, I could totally make up a name and you wouldn't be able to tell. It just pisses me off. You should know I wouldn't bring you a third-rate source. All this time, all these endless column inches—for what? I could've been writing about the time I diddled that girl from Subway. It certainly wouldn't lessen my credibility, would it? Shams.
Let's suppose, on this one occasion, I might have neglected to get the name and occupation of my source. Roughly translated, forgot to check my facts. Would that kill an otherwise spotless record? I think not. What do you think? Hypothetically. Of course it wouldn't. º Last Column: I Never Promised You a Rose Gardenº more columns |
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Quote of the Day“Communication leads to community, that is, to understanding, intimacy and mutual valuing.”
-Free-Rome Cell Phone AdvertisementFortune 500 CookieTurns out you should have shot the deputy, too. This week will seem a lot like last week, only with less scabies. Remember, no good deed goes unpunished, and dirty deeds are done dirt cheap. Paulie? Fuck Paulie.
Try again later.Top 5 Ways for a Fantatic to Honor Favorite Musician1. | Break into house; masturbate in the bathtub. | 2. | Nothing says "I love you" like your name in scar tissue | 3. | Dress like Hootie. Talk like Hootie. Be Hootie. | 4. | What the fuck—kill him so he can never make any more wonderful music. | 5. | Talk loudly at parties about how much better his early work was. | |
| Snowstorms Worst to Hit U.S. Since WinterBY roland mcshyster 12/8/2003 A hearty "Yo" to you all, America, and welcome to the umptillionth edition of Roland McShyster's Entertainment Police, now a trademarked brand and theme restaurant in three states. We've got the candy you crave yet again this week, so let's waste no time peeling back that Hollywood Band-Aid and scowling at the owie that is this week's new releases:
In Theaters
Honey
Mariah Carrey is back, stinking up the screen in this, her latest attempt to prove that brother Jim didn't get all the acting talent in that family. If I were her, I'd settle for being known as "The Singing Carrey," because after squirming through brother Jim's off-key warbling in Mule in Rouge I don't expect her to suffer much competition...
A hearty "Yo" to you all, America, and welcome to the umptillionth edition of Roland McShyster's Entertainment Police, now a trademarked brand and theme restaurant in three states. We've got the candy you crave yet again this week, so let's waste no time peeling back that Hollywood Band-Aid and scowling at the owie that is this week's new releases:
In Theaters
Honey
Mariah Carrey is back, stinking up the screen in this, her latest attempt to prove that brother Jim didn't get all the acting talent in that family. If I were her, I'd settle for being known as "The Singing Carrey," because after squirming through brother Jim's off-key warbling in Mule in Rouge I don't expect her to suffer much competition for that title. Her prospects for one day being known as "The Acting Carrey" are unfortunately slim and none, and Slim can't act either. If she got any of the acting talent in that family, she left it in her other pants because here she stinks on ice like Nancy Kerrigan's gangrenous left knee.
The Last Samurai Show
The cruelly good-looking secret brother of commune toilet brush Alamo Cruise, embarrassing cult religion enthusiast Tom Cruise is back and John Belushing up a storm as usual in this gaijin comedy epic. Cruise's main squeeze Penelope "She's Not My Sister (wink, wink)" Cruise is strangely absent from the film, though whether this can be attributed to a lover's spat or the fact that there were no Mexican people in Japan in the 1800's is hard to say. Personally, I think they could have Jackie Chaned her into the script somehow, so look out for tabloid news of Cruise dropping a bombshell on his sisterly bombshell in the near future, mark my hypertexted words.
Lords of the Ring: Rerun of the King
Elvis Presley is back, and it turns out that instead of dying as the media reported, he actually wrestled some kind of amphetamine demon to the death on the toilet seat that fateful night, only to come back dressed all in white—or at least slightly more white than he was already known for wearing. Now he's taken up a second career as a boxing promoter in this third installment of the loosely-related "Ring" series, not to be mistaken for the pants-shitting scary movie about the little girl who sneaks out of your TV and eats all your Tollhouse cookies if you return your rental videos late. I for one was ready for an Elvis comeback, since somebody has to teach this latest generation of popamuffins how to croak through grotesque excess, but if your brain did you the favor of blanking out the memory of the first two films, this one's going to make about as much sense as a Japanese beer commercial.
Pig Fish
Famed screwball director Tim "Burt" Burton is back with his cast of circus freaks and non-gay fairies in this romp through the realm of the colorfully far-fetched. The cinematic answer to "If a pig and a fish had sex, what would they have?" (the traditional punchline of "An abortion" was apparently not P.C. enough for this studio), Pig Fish stars sporting goods heir Ewan MacGregor and world's fattest elf Danny Devito as the two opposing heads of the resultant hideous animal hybrid. MacGregor's the fastidious and methodical front end, while DeVito is the crass slob of a rear, making sure they're always on each other's nerves, literally. Though in all sincerity I have no idea how you decide which is the front or back end of a symmetrical genetic freak animal, I guess it's just Hollywood's bias for giving ribald slobs the ass end of the stick shining through here. It's kind of like those maps that show the world upside-down, with Australia on top. You can't really say they're wrong, but it hurts your brain to think about it. Same thing with this movie.
Something's Gotta Give Jack Nicholson a Heart Attack
Hilariously middle-aged arterial clog Jack Nicholson is back, in the latest comedy to bank on his not being young any more. Based on the sound premise that Jack's gotta go some time, and it's not likely to be yanking tots out of a flaming orphanage, Something's Gotta Give Jack Nicholson a Heart Attack basically plays like a role call of hilarious scenarios in which Jack Nicholson might buy the farm. Several of them include seeing Diane Keaton naked, which is funny enough, but the suspense really isn't there since everybody knows that if seeing Kathy Bates in the buff didn't do it, whatever sagging Keaton may have going on doesn't stand a streaker's chance in Hell of landing Jackie boy in the crypt. Keanu Reeves reprises his role as a pasty loser who thinks he knows karate.
Stuck on Your Ass
Hollywood's never had an original idea without having it again about ten seconds later, and if it's not fathers and sons trading bodies it's some sad sack odd couple being stuck in the same one. While Pig Fish approaches this idea from the surreal computer-animated side, the concurrent odd twin grafted to that film's ass, Stuck on Your Ass, takes a more literal approach. In this one, John Wayne lookalike Matt Damon and Greg "They Killed" Kinnear play normal twin brothers who accidentally got siamesed in a hospital mix-up when a dyslexic doctor bonered their chart with that of a three little Nepalese boys who'd been chain-ganged by Nature. I leave you to draw your own conclusions.
Well that's that and a rat-a-tat-tat, America. Glad you could make it and were able to take some time out of your busy schedule this holiday season, taking a break from planning out just how you're going to distribute the kindness and goodwill that you've been bottling up and repressing all year. See you around, America. |