ll over the United States the average viewer is being treated to the site of black people running through the streets, burning flags, and throwing shrapnel as well as shooting guns, in the midst of full-blown rebellion. Unfortunately, this isn't in America, it's in Haiti, and Americans everywhere nervously wonder: Who exactly is the bad guy and whose side am I supposed to be on?

It's a fair question, as the White House has yet to make an announcement on where they stand on the Haiti situation, pending a review of the situation by a panel heading south, which should have an answer this coming week. Of course, angry black people are something the Bush administration traditionally stands against, and this is no exception; but the real question for them is, can President Jean-Bertrand Aristide keep the population down and the bucks flowing to America for a few more terms? Or is it time to scrap him and install a new puppet government?

That's right, the p-word: Puppet. The unofficial word is a claymation Gumby would have more spine for standing up to the U.S. than Aristide. Now the U.S. seeks damage control as Aristide finds himself the victim of a coup yet again. The wonderful "liberal" administration of Bill Clinton helped put Aristide back in power after his earlier ousting in 1994, and he was certainly a good lapdog after that. Clinton defended the action as restoring the rightfully-elected Haitian president to power, but nobody in the country bothered asking how he was elected or by whom. In recent years Haitian voter turnout has peaked at about 5%—even for Americans, that's pretty low turnout.

For those Americans with your average high school education, Haiti may seem like a mystery. It is one of Caribbean island nations not communist and therefore of little interest to U.S. diplomats. It is populated almost entirely by black people, but it's not the one Bob Marley is from, and it's not a popular resort. It suffers from extreme poverty and high occurrences of AIDS and HIV, and the last time you saw it on TV may have been when a boatload of refugees were drowning in an effort to reach the continental United States, unless they were being turned back by U.S. coast guard.

There are positive things about Haiti, though, like its friendliness to American investors. When it's not in the midst of revolution, which is admittedly quite often, Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere with a per capita income of $250; less than half of its population is literate and 80% of its people live in poverty, which means low, low wages for investors. The U.S.-friendly puppet government, put in place and held there by military force, means no minimum wage and bizarre laws that lower tariffs on imports and punish exports—a country with a high yield of agricultural products can't even produce rice for its own people, since it is cheaper to import it from American agricultural concerns, thanks to commerce legislation.

For the Bush administration, it's obviously good business to enforce "trickle down" economics and protect investments there by reinstalling a U.S.-friendly government by whatever means possible, even militarily, but since it's an election year and the American people are already getting a little sour about our efforts to protect business concerns in the Middle East, the stance our country is going to take on recent Haitian uprisings isn't quite square yet. But if it can be done without lowering anyone's approval rating, you can bet Haitian rebels and their underclass associates, maybe even Aristide himself, will soon join the Octagon of Evil, or whatever shape evil's taking these days.

lipping through the governmental system of checks and balances like a greased hog, President Bush used a recess appointment to bypass a Senate filibuster in appointing comedian Richard Pryor to the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on Friday. Bush defended the appointment by explaining that the Court of Appeals hasn't made him laugh in a good, long time.

Bush praised Pryor as "this really funny black guy" who was sure to be a hit with his fellow justices. In addition, the president expressed bewilderment that Senate Democrats would want to block yet another of his appointments, commenting that he thought everybody liked Richard Pryor. "Hey, this is fun," responded an elated Bush when given word that Pryor had been successfully installed.

The recess appointment was Bush's second since Senate Democrats mounted successful filibusters to block the president's last five appeals court nominees, including stuntman Evel Knievel, Hollywood actor Russell Crowe, Yankees shortstop Alex Rodriguez, famous child psychologist Dr. Spock and the cartoon character Fat Albert. Following his unsuccessful attempt to have the African-American animated character installed in the court, Bush used his first recess appointment to add soulful latina singer Gloria Estefan to the circuit court last month.

Senate Democrats defend their filibuster tactics as necessary to protect the President from himself, explaining that they shouldn't be viewed as a personal vendetta against a president who thinks he can appoint whoever the hell he wants to the nation's courts.

"Look I love A-Rod," confided Senate Minority Leader Tom Daschle. "That guy can hit the piss out of a baseball. But I'm just not sure he belongs on the appeals court."

"At least he exists," interrupted Sen. Charles Schumer, D-New York. "Remember back in 2001 when he wanted to appoint Gandolf and that guy who was Sylvester Stallone's trainer in Rocky? Jesus Christ."

Bush appointed the comedian and actor despite suggestions that Pryor might be physically unfit for the position, given the debilitating effects of the Multiple Sclerosis from which the comedian suffers.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," explained Bush. "He's probably just making it all up to have a good laugh at us. That guy's hilarious."

This latest appointment is expected to have a positive effect on the president, who is said to be in down spirits since the death of "Spotty," the White House dog, last week. Though the dog came with the job, Bush had become especially attached to the canine over the last three years, and hoped to pay off the dog's lease in order to take it with him when he left the White House. Though he's not sure of the exact clause involved, President Bush expressed confidence that his renter's agreement states that the White House now has to get him a new dog. He's hoping for a Pomeranian or a golden retriever that can do tricks.

It is high time, as a teller of uncomfortable truths, I admitted one of the most obvious: the commune sucks. Or perhaps I should clarify that working at the commune sucks. The distinction might be thought important by some.

Shit you I do not, as Yoda might say. I admit my role in working at the commune has changed several times over the years, and more often than not I am a background character, like the old man who hung out at Cheers, but when brother Gay loomed his large, smarmy head in a few months ago and made a play to take over the publication, I put my nose to the grindstone and basically skinned the hell out of my nose. I worked extra hard, 24-7, 24 minutes of every hour, 7 hours a day, and this shit was not for me, sir. I am not made for a 7-hour work day. I don't know how everyone else here manages the five they do.

I will accept I perhaps have it better than some others, since I own the whole shebang, at least if I can keep Gay at bay, and I receive all the profits, should we ever make any. But it does not change the fact work completely sucks. The severe sucking nature of work cannot even be disputed at this point.

When I started the commune, or changed it from a quarterly Indian reservation newsletter to an alternative news publication, I only wanted to spread as much of the truth as I saw it as I could fit onto the back of pamphlets lifted from teen centers and free clinics. It was fun then, before I had a staff, a budget to be concerned with, and deadlines to heed. I sometimes wish I could go back to those days. Me and Sully, experimenting with mind-expanding medicinal herbs while I wrote my first column about how the 1969 moon landing was just an elaborate Tonight Show sketch aired out of context. Before I had snippy copy-editors knocking on my door to tell me I misspelled simple words and spilled bongwater on all my pages.

Gay Bagel, of course, challenged the commune to show profit as part of his new job as Ulterior Motive Manager, Class VII, and I thought the natural solution was to do what we do that wasn't showing a profit more often and at greater expense. So I took the commune to a weekly schedule and included extra pairs of irregular-fitting jeans as an pay incentive every week. All that has done, it seems, is give me more work to do. Gay doesn't know the first thing about publishing an alternative news website—have fun! The second thing being, of course, never malign Carol Burnett without ample photo evidence to back you up. But the first thing has been completely lost under Herr Bagel. Herr Bagel being Gay, instead of me, for once.

These days I'm in the office up to six days a week, instead of six times a month with the old commune management style. In a way, I suppose I feel I have to answer to Gay now when before I had no boss, I was able to just hang out in my office whenever I felt like it, pants or no pants. After all, if I don't show a major increase in profits, meaning make a profit of any type soon, he'll resume his legal battle to take over the commune again.

Bah. If I had half a brain in my head, which my staff is quick to assure me I do, I would let him have the damn commune. Dig Sully out of those boxes I packed him up in and light up the peace pipe once more. Go back to the old desktop publishing guerilla-style journalism I started with.

Still, I suppose things aren't all that bad. After all, if I can reach one reader, inform him of the deadly conspiracies and hidden injustices of this world, all my work has been worth it. And according to last month's website statistics, we finally successfully reached that one reader.

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