he trial of last century is making all the news in Mississippi and nowhere else, as the racially-motivated murders that inspired the film Mississippi Burning are underway after a lengthy ignoring of the whole thing. It took a little time to build a case and find a non-racist jury, but after 41 years, Edgar Ray Killen is being given as fair a trial as the white man's legal system will allow in a Philadelphia, Mississippi court.

The accused killer Killen is on trial for the premeditated murder of civil rights workers James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner, who came to the town to aid in black voter recruitment. The accused was originally tried in 1964, but the jury deadlocked and couldn't decide whether murdering a Negro and two Jews was a crime in Mississippi. "Killer" Killen, as this reporter's just dubbed him, was released and not retried for years, although he was punished then by enduring Southern cooking at a barbecue in his honor thrown by all his Klan kronies.

Thankfully, Hollywood intervened in 1988 with a film about the murders fueled by the performances of Gene Hackman and Willem Dafoe that, while good, no self-respecting black man is going to sit through when they've actually lived the same shit every day. Embarrassed by the liberal ass-tanning, modernized Mississippi began a crusade to re-try Killen and put the killings to rest once and for all.

Since the accusations have resurfaced, Killer Killen has denied orchestrating the murders and downplayed his involvement with the charitable organization the Ku Klux Klan; or at least that's what his lawyer says he has said, the 80-year-old is a bit indecipherable over the loud sound of his wheezing and mumbling. Philosophers only I've talked to suggest maybe Killen will live another 30 years as his real punishment from God, long enough to see black culture completely co-opted by every white kid on his street and allowing black performers to dominate the box office, television, and every station on the radio. And there's always the White House, if God is particularly cruel to the poor peckerwood.

Some fellow good old guys and girls have come to Killen's defense, while denouncing the killings, and say the frail, birdlike man had nothing to do with the horrific murder of people they wouldn't have spat on back then. Among those testifying were other Killens, including Killen's brother and sister-in-law, and several associates with peculiarly pointy hairstyles, like Cricket Beechauser.

"I love Killen," said the comparatively young 75-year-old Beechauser. "Killen taught me everything I know, not that I'm braggin' or nothin'. I'd do anything for him, that's how much I respect Killen—I'd go to jail for Killen. I'd go to hell for Killen, if that's what I had to do. Killen ain't any more racist than anyone here in this courtroom." To which at least the defense agreed.

The only irregularity in the Killen trial came on Friday when an angry protestor in the courtroom objected to the Beechauser testimony. A young white woman stood up and began shouting at the witness, still on the stand, insisting if the Ku Klux Klan liked Killen so much, they deserved Killen.

"Order in the court!" clichéd Judge Marcus Gordon. "If there's any more outbursts I'll remove the defendant. Then there won't be any Killen to shout about."

The prosecutor Mississippi Attorney General James Hood, for those of you who like irony, said the state would win this time against the Klansman.

"This time we will get Killen for these killings—hey! I just noticed how that sounds. Weird. But in all seriousness, my office is seeking the death penalty. And we'd better hurry up because this old Nazi is half in the bag already."

So declare the men of law in Mississippi, where the state motto in racial killings is "better late than never."

fter years of fiscal excess in the 1980’s, when the organization famously spent millions of dollars on magic space beans, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s legendary cost-cutting backfired this week when NASA head Dean Michaels admitted that he personally regrets equipping the Cassini-Huygens spacecraft, currently orbiting Saturn, with a 27-shot disposable camera.

“Though the decision seemed a wise one at first,� apologized Michaels before we cut him off to identify the speaker, “due to the camera’s low cost and ease of processing at over 10,000 Photomats and convenience stores across the country, we are finally now coming to understand why no one has ever used one of these things for deep-space photography before: They suck big-time.�

Providing an array of blurry, blown-up photographs to illustrate his point, Michaels offered a shot-by-shot analysis of the confusing images from Cassini’s Fuji QuickSnap Outdoor.

“Jesus, that’s not even what we were aiming at!� Michaels yelled while examining the first photograph. “That’s the Alpha Centauri! Fucking Fujifilm.�

“This one, I have no idea what this is,� Michaels admitted, gesturing to a blurry gray photograph featuring a vaguely floral print. “Can anybody see anything in this? I’m not even sure if we’ve got it right-side up.�

Most intriguing of all the shots, however, was #17, which seemed to provide bizarrely compelling evidence that Cassini had somehow managed to snap a picture of a NASA technician’s thumb from deep space.

“This one’s a miracle of bad photography,� explained Michaels. “People should be praying to this thing instead of some batshit on an underpass somewhere,� Michaels added, referring to the Mother Mary apparition discovered earlier this year under a bridge in Illinois.

Beyond the photo quality issue, NASA also ran into problems with the camera’s 27-exposure capacity, which is fine for most weddings or a day at the beach, but somewhat restrictive when trying to capture the vast wonder of the solar system.

“Yeah, that was a boner,� admitted Michaels. “We’ve only got three shots left and four more planets to go, so it’s going to be tough. We’re going to have to line them up for a panoramic shot or something, hopefully without the sun in the background since that always makes everything look all dark and washed-out. What can I say? We were in the checkout lane and it seemed like a good idea. It has definitely served us better than the Bic lighter and CrystalBurst gum that Stevens wanted to get for the same money.�

Critics are citing the Cassini debacle as the organization’s biggest embarrassment since the 1990 launching of the super-powerful Hubble telescope, which has mostly been used by technicians to take scarily detailed bird’s-eye view photos of their homes from outer space, after expensive repairs were made to fix the out-of-focus lenses NASA ended up with when a sponsorship deal and partnership with mall-based eyewear provider LensCrafters backfired.

But NASA supporters call such claims ludicrous, since they totally disregard all the malfunctioning toy trucks the large contingent of RC-car enthusiasts at NASA have landed on foreign planets between those two events.

“We went to the fucking moon, people,� Michaels snapped after this reporter asked if they might have been better off trading up to a disposable camera model with a built-in flash, considering the darkness of space. Michaels defaulted to a common NASA dodge that comes up whenever critics point out the organization’s frequent misadventures. “Think about that for a second. The moon. What have you done?�

I was an avid comic collector when I was younger. Which means I was a kid who stole.

I loved comics, and couldn't keep my hands off them. At least that's what the judge said. In my defense, I only borrowed them so I could read them, bag them, and keep them for a long time to see if they went up in value. That was a lousy defense. I never should have defended myself. But I was only 10, I don't know what the court was thinking. And they called me the idiot.

That's why I love to watch comic book movies. And why the movie theater always throws me out for not having a ticket. There's a lot of comic book movies coming out this year. I'm already gathering ticket stubs to get into see the big ones. Like the new Batman movie. And there's also a Fantastic Four movie. I think Cinderella Man was a comic book character, too, but I'm not gay, so I didn't read it. Not that I wasn't tempted, mind you.

When I was a kid I wanted to be in the Fantastic Four. My biggest problem, besides having no super-powers, was that I never knew which one I wanted to kill and take the place of. Probably the girl. Not that I hate women, 'cause I don't, but it would be real awkward hanging out with a married guy, his wife, and someone else. I'd be like a fourth wheel. Maybe that could be my power—all my married friends and the guy they hang out with say I'm good at it.

If I could have any super-power in the world, that would be a tough choice. I think it would be the power to make people forget I borrowed money from them. 'Cause that's something I need all the time. We'd corner this super-villain in a bank vault, me and the rest of the Fantastic Four, who I now lead, and I could just borrow all the money from him. Tell him I'm late with the rent or something, or my mom needs hangnail surgery. Some cool story. Then, he defeats the rest of them and asks for the money back, and I'm all like, "Dude, I paid that back to you weeks ago." And he gets real mad, but he believes it, and has no choice but to go to jail. I haven't worked all of it out, but I think I'm on the right track.

I could be called the Borrower. It's better than Thieving Asshole, and I think that's taken already anyway.

I wouldn't want any of the other Fantastic Four's powers. The Thing is all made of rocks. Dude, have you ever been hit with a rock? That shit hurts. So whenever he punches anyone it's like someone threw a rock at his hand. Great idea, Eisenstein. And there's the Invisible Chick… so what, big deal. I go to parties and people already can't see me there. Got that power. Then there's the Human Blowtorch. He uses his power to burn all his clothes off. I've tried that before, trust me, it's a dead end street. You just end up having to buy more clothes and neighbors file a complaint with the police department.

Then there's Dr. Fantastic, who has the greatest powers in that team. He can stretch over and pick things up. Can you imagine that? Throw the remote control out the window, who needs it? No more are the chips out of reach… ever! I wonder if that feels like work, to stretch real far. I hope not.

If I had that power… well, let's just say I've solved the problem that's always bothered mankind. No more waiting for the commercial to go to the bathroom. Sweet.

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