n a move that surprised few familiar with the terrible wrath of the legendary Iranian Navy, British Prime Minister Tony Blair announced today that his country would be surrendering to Iran rather than facing almost certain destruction.

“A proud era in the history of Great Britain comes to an end today,� announced Blair, Prime Minister since 1997 and secret Transformers collector even longer. “We had a good run of it, I’d say,� a proudly defiant Blair mused. “But you don’t muck about when you’re dealing with the Iranian Navy. I have my kids to consider.�

“There’s no use crying over spilt milk,� agreed British Secretary of State for Defence Desmond Henry Browne (BSSDDHB). “It’s been fun, I must admit, being the top dog on the international scene. Or perhaps second-to-top dog, after America… or maybe third after Germany. I don’t have recent figures in front of me. But the point is, every dog has his day, and we all knew our day had to come to an end some day. At the hands of the Iranian Navy? How else?�

Iran’s Navy, a fearsome juggernaut of nautical supremacy, has terrorized the seas since the 1200s, when Iran began conquering coastal lands at will and making pirates eat their own hats. With coastal access to the crucial Arabian and Caspian Seas, the land mass of Iran was ideally located for maritime dominance. Even geographical limitations such as a lack of access to the Pacific Ocean were laughed at by the Iranian Navy, infamous world-wide for carrying their huge warships by hand overland when doing so would be more impressive than simply sailing around the Cape of Good Hope or even around small islands.

Massive blockades of Iranian warships crippled the world economy numerous times in the 1500s, with the entire Spanish Armada going to their deaths in a futile attempt to import much-needed Spanish rice in defiance of Iran’s wishes. The Iranian people, though poorer than a record executive on land, have nevertheless lorded over the seas for generations, with an iron fist and a wooden bottom. Because an iron bottom would sink like nobody’s business.

This latest development came to a head when 15 British sailors were captured by the Iranian Navy while conducting a routine search of a cargo ship carrying fuses and detonators in Iraqi territorial waters.

“We had just finished inspecting and signing off on the Iraqi freighter,� explained naval officer Roger Phillip, communicating through a photograph released by the Iranian Navy via holes ripped in his sweater forming the message in Morse code. “When suddenly the very sun was blotted out by an armada of fearsome warships, and we knew our own doom had engulfed us.�

Though the unconditional surrender of a world power over a small naval skirmish over 3,000 miles away is unusual, few consider Britain’s move premature, given the unbelievable hurt the Iranian Navy could rain down on the U.K. should they get their dander up.

A few foolhardy souls have suggested a death-before-dishonor approach, unwilling to bow down to their Iranian masters so quickly.

“I think we could take ‘em,� grumbled brave sausage peeler Roscoe Euclid of Saxby, loading supplies into an inflatable dingy moments before going to his certain death.

Final plans have not been announced as to what Britain’s new Iranian overlords plan to do with the country, though early indications point to a bonanza of beheadings.

mbittered rivals on both sides of the partisan line clashed again last week after controversy arose over Attorney General Alberto Gonzales' firing of 8 U.S. Attorneys in 2006. Democrats used accusations of partisanship allegedly motivating the firings as further example that Alberto Gonzales flouts the law carrying out the agenda of the White House, while a typically befuddled President Bush defended Gonzales as "the fastest mouse in all Me-hee-co."

Administration insiders apologize for the president's gaff by citing his travels in Mexico to meet country President Felipe Calderon, and watching an excessive amount of Warner Brothers cartoons to escape negative media coverage. While Bush's actual statements excused Gonzales' questionable legal activities as the only way he could bring the cheese to the native population of his starving country, even if it meant defying the mean gringo pussy cat, White House spokesperson Tony Snow had a different take on the president's surreal blubberings.

"The president has always had high respect for Attorney General Gonzales, and has always believed him the best man for the job," said Snow, ignoring sarcastic reporter cries of "Arriba! Arriba! �ndale!" "Still, we recognize the possibility of impropriety in the office of the Attorney General and expect Attorney General Gonzales to account for the actions of his staff. In short, Gonzales' got some 'splainin' to do!"

Snow's alleged joke was met with some boos and not a single trace of laughter.

Also not laughing are representatives of the Democratic leadership in Congress, many of whom are calling for Gonzales' firing as the controversy builds. The negative press for the AG follows last week's admission by the FBI that the bureau underreported the amount of domestic spying it was performing under the Patriot Act. The fire under the AG's ass was stoked even hotter when it was revealed Gonzales and the Attorney General's office fired 8 U.S. Attorneys in 2006 for alleged refusals to prosecute cases of voter fraud. The cases of voter fraud cited were incidents in which ex-convicts and other pro-Democratic throngs were allowed to cast votes and not purged from voter rolls, which is something Republicans really like to do to all non-white voters.

Gonzales may end up taking the fall for the firings as heat continues to build around his office and, more importantly, evidence emerges tying the White House to the alleged politically motivated shit-cannings. Communications between former White House attorney Harriet Miers and Gonzales' chief of staff Kyle Sampson came to light this week showing that Miers (and presumably the administration) were contemplating firing all 93 U.S. Attorneys and replacing them, while Gonzales opposed the measure and conceivably thought targeting specific pains-in-the-ass to the White House would be sufficient. To no one's surprise, Sampson resigned Tuesday to go live in a private scapegoat community somewhere.

In the wake of all these recent controversies, Democrats have called for the firing of Gonzales, but the real surprise is the Democrats think there's maybe one conservative kid in the mailroom of the White House they think shouldn't be fired; they found unlikely support Wednesday from New Hampshire Republican Sen. John Sununu, son of former White House Chief of Staff under George Bush Sr. John "Leaving on a Federally-Funded Jet Plane" Sununu. Claiming Gonzales should be replaced by a more aggressive leader, possibly someone part werewolf.

Though we didn't bother asking him, we assume if Alberto Gonzales did resign to save the administration some embarrassment, President Bush would not be adverse to nominating his cousin Slowpoke Rodriguez as a replacement.

Things have been gloomier than usual here at the commune offices, as Flatbush, New Jersey goes through another rain-drenched March. Some have always admired rain, looked into the gloomy darkness overhead and the water fluttering down from the sky and seen it as some kind of cleansing of the earth, a washing-away of the dust and grime coating the planet and the nourishing of its lush green life. I say that's horseshit. Rain is nothing but the entire population of a city, state, or country being thrown into the swimming pool a teaspoon full at a time.

God's laughing at us when it rains. That's right—I accept the Judeo-Christian concept of God, and sometimes He's a right asshole. If He's so perfect, couldn't he find a more productive way of doing whatever rain has to do? Why make plants that grow in the middle of a landlocked mass need water at all? It makes less sense than a movie starring Adam Sandler as a romantic lead. God's capable of making spiders, who reproduce with hundreds of offspring and spin elaborate webs to feed themselves, but the best he could do to get water around to all the soil is just to drop it out of the sky. I'm surprised He stopped there. Why not just have chicken wings plunge from the clouds whenever people need feeding? Hold your mouths open like turkeys staring at the sky, spit out the bones, there's no need to even take lunch. It's better than getting soaking wet through some ill-conceived water delivery system.

Imagine the scenario, good people: You've put on your best work suit, combed your hair into a stylish pompadour that's a magnet for the ladies, and you strut out the door early in the morning. Then some obstinate little shit pelts you with a condom full of mineral water. I suppose you addle-minded hippies would look up at him and blather on about the inherent beauty of getting pranked by a little preteen bastard. You'd write songs about water balloons and lovers would curl up next to the fire telling each other they sure like the smell in the air after you get socked in the face with a swishy prophylactic. To hell with that. You've been punked, nature-lover.

I'm not sure why I alone have this special insight, that rain is nothing but an amateur April Fool's joke. Perhaps standing at 3-foot-eight-inches and being particularly vulnerable to floods and watery basements makes me warier of water falling from the sky than most people. I don't accept all of the Bible as a literal interpretation, but I do believe there was a flood. I admit, I skipped around through parts of it, but I think I have the general gist—40 days and nights of rain (yeah, God, real funny), build a monstrous boat, take two of each animal. I'm not sure the wisdom of that, taking a couple of dinosaurs that are bound to eat the rest of the animals, instead of taking your hundred or so best friends. But I'm not concerned with that, I only want to keep a close eye on rain in case it gets the wise idea to do the same thing again. I haven't exactly kept up with my boat-making skill, and if I were hard-pressed to start collecting animals right now, I would only be able to find a couple of diferent breeds of dogs and a cockatiel.

However, let's make one thing clear: I will not hear a word against snow. Snow is the antithesis of rain—it's light and flickering instead of pelting and obstinate; it's pure and charming, instead of cruel and clothes-ruining. Plus, it sticks together and makes snow men. Anything that allows itself to be shaped by men into mock people cannot be bad. You just try and make a rainman, see where that will get you—a watery retarded man who counts matchsticks easily. Yeah, that was a great idea.

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