Note: This story is 100% true and kinda creepy; I'm going to hold a flashlight under my face and type with my free hand.

A few days ago I found myself lying on the couch, fighting sleep and watching the Daily Show. As I started to enter that area in-between consciousness and sleep I was caught off guard by a memory. I was probably fifteen or sixteen years old at the time and visiting family at the annual family reunion at Camp Lightfoot (click here to listen to the Camp Lightfoot pride song). After meeting and greeting people that I vaguely remembered or just absolutely didn't know I was introduced to a couple of cousins that were roughly my age, give or take a year.

With little hesitation we decided to set out on our own and leave the rest of the family to their rousing games of bingo and stories of who died in the last year (and who would probably die before the next one). We set off through the field, down a hill and to the stream that ran through the bottom of the camp. We then pulled out fishing poles and proceeded to fish on the bank for several hours, getting to know each other and if memory serves, catching one fish between the three of us.

The river is just behind this building... I think.

The next day I left the camp and haven't seen those guys since. In fact, I'd wager that it has been every bit of ten years since I even THOUGHT about that day or those guys. I couldn't tell you their names right now if my life was on the line. So why, I wondered, was I thinking about this now? I sat there attempting to decipher what could have brought up the memory, then John Stewart said something funny and the issue was dropped.

Fast-forward to last night around six-thirty. My Dad calls me up and we engage in the normal small talk before he informs me that he'd been to a funeral that day. I ask who, and if it was something I should have come into town for. He then informs me that it was "one of your cousins, you may not remember him, but you went fishing with him years ago at Camp Lightfoot." I am not exaggerating when I say that I could have dropped the phone at that point. He went on to explain that he had been killed in an automobile accident and then elaborated on some of the troubles that his brother was having. We talked for about an hour, then said our goodbyes.


Now, I'm not one to believe that I had some sort of psychic premonition. I don't think it's time for NBC to start building hour-long primetime dramas around me. However, even the most skeptical person has to admit that the sequence of events described above is pretty damn eerie.
Anyway, just thought I'd share that rather interesting part of my day with you guys. Hopefully it didn't bore you to death. However, if it did then look no further than a couple of entries down... it's a blue lobster! Come on, how cool is a blue lobster?!

I don't think I would have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Even for Fox News, this is just flat out amazing.

Check it out! A blue lobster! How cool is that?

I don't really have much to say, so I'll throw out a few random thoughts:

1. My dear friend Derek has joined the blog world. So please give his site a look-see. So far it's an introduction and a baseball story, which may please and may dismay some of you. However, the guy's brilliant, if you aren't already dazzled then put on your dazzlin' shoes... it's gonna happen.

2. The new Dixie Chicks record is amazing. I talked about them the other day, but hadn't heard the actual finished product. WOW. It's really remarkable... check it out.

3. Taylor Hicks is the new American Idol. I remember his audition (since my friend Kevin called to insist that I see it) and now he's the winner. Well, congrats to him, and to all of my Birmingham, Alabama readers. Give us a shout out, 'Bama!

4. No matter what anyone tells you, Jim Beam is a very tolerable bourbon.

5. Daxon's swimming panties are in my car.

... it really tied the room together.

Like so many other Powell Countians, I now can say that I've been a victim of a burglary. Before I elaborate on that, let me tell you a little tale...

A year or so ago a young man with a sketchy-at-best past fell on hard times. He'd run afoul with the law and gotten himself in enough trouble to be thrown out of his home to wander the streets (and by thrown out of his home I mean he'd been thrown out of the last home that would take him). I knew the young man, and felt that it was possible that he may have been getting a bad reputation largely from the misdeeds of some of his relatives, so I decided to give him a second chance.

I let the guy move into my house for a few days, giving him my trust and putting a level of faith in him that thus far no one else ever seemed to do. I'd return to find him wearing my clothes or eating my food, which I just chalked up to a total lack of manners and certainly not malicious behavior. After a few days he went on his way and I felt genuinely good about myself, I had given the guy a shot at being a decent human being and I was missing a two-dollar Goodwill shirt and a few slices of pizza for my efforts, not bad.

Now, let's fast-forward to the year 2006. May 22, 2006.. I had just obtained a rather large collection of old John Coltrane records and was looking forward to "going home, having a glass of bourbon and relaxing to some music." Of course, living in a dry county doing that would require a trip across county lines. So, with a couple of friends in tow I made my way to Winchester to obtain some of the devil's elixir. Another friend of my was slated to join us later on, so I left her a voicemail informing her that the door would be unlocked, to come on in. A last minute change of heart caused me to lock the door... at the end of the day it didn't really matter much.

As we left the scene I noticed the aforementioned kid playing basketball on the public court next to my place. I gave him a wave and went on my way, slightly hesitant but confident that he'd reformed himself... or at least he wouldn't do anything shady to ME.

Upon my return home I walked through the house, went directly to the bathroom and noticed immediately that the familiar glow that once emitted from the corner of the house was gone... someone had taken my Coors Light neon sign! A very quick look back at what was missing and who was in the area left only one solution... after all, any other thief would have taken things of more obvious value. Granted, the sign is probably worth around four hundred dollars, but with a computer, HDTV, and stacks of DVD and CD packages lying around, why take that!?

An image of my living room with warm glow still in tact.

So, I did what any red-blooded American would do... I took off in a pickup truck to find the sonofabitch. I went by his usual locations but couldn't seem to find hide nor hair of him. Sometime around then my landlord called, asking me to file a police report and go through the proper channels. Respecting her as I do I went back to my apartment to file it. Long story short the policeman went to this person's home and sent word that if the sign wasn't returned by 11 o'clock there'd be serious trouble... this morning the sign was in my driveway.

So, I guess it's time for the moral of the story... but I'm not quite sure what it is. I don't think a good moral would be to never trust anyone or to never give people a second chance when they're down on their luck. But I don't think a sufficient moral would be to let people into your life on good faith when they have obviously sketchy backgrounds. Of course there's the, "don't judge a book by it's cover" life lesson, but in this case I probably should have. However, I know for 100% certain that it's a bad practice.

I guess the lesson learned here is that life is one big mass of gray. That black and white just isn't the way the world goes 'round. Should I have let this guy into my life? Well, knowing what I know now the answer is certainly "no." However, should I have given up on him like everyone else had, that answer is also a fairly solid "no." So, with that in mind I'll take my licks, be happy that the light was returned and go on with my life.

But, for the record, he'd better hope that he never, ever runs into me again... that's an absolute goddamn fact.

I had no idea that the central key to peace in the Middle East was Lionel Ritchie. I really didn't. But now that I know I can't seem to stop laughing (and I also can't seem to get "All Night Long" out of my head).

Now, can't we get some copies of Dancing on the Ceiling on a plane and send some air drops into Basra?

If you want to win the peace, you've got to bring the soul.

With all that's going on in the country right now it's easy to forget that the Dixie Chicks have risked fame and fortune to stand up for something that they believe in. With the release of their new album this year and the normal media circus that follows such a thing they're managing to make their way back into the spotlight, which I'm certainly in favor of.

On a past post I was accused by cyberhillbilly of being somewhat intolerant when it came to dealing with the American Right-Wing. That's certainly true, I can't deny it without looking wildly silly. However, it's reasons like the Dixie Chicks "scandal" that have driven me to this point. I watched conservatives call President Clinton's (then pre-teen) daughter a "dog" and make endless radio and tabloid discussion about how horribly unattractive she was. I watched the right accuse Clinton of murder, and if not murder then certainly conspiracy in the Vince Foster case. Now tell me this, which is more reasonable outrage... telling a group of Londoners that you're embarrassed of the president or scarring his child for life by calling her a dog and accusing her father of murder? Personally, I think George can take it.

But it's just more of the American Right's ass-backward campaign for family values. They strongly support the issue on one hand, but on the other have phoned in death-threats to the Dixie Chicks on nearly every stop of their last American tour. I'm not sure at which point family values intersect with homicide, but it must have something to do with why they want to keep all of those assault rifles lying around.

The Dixie Chicks have chosen to release as their debut single the reactionary and slightly less cookie-cutter "Not Ready to Make Nice." Flying directly in the face of Nashville, these girls have decided to answer their critics with something more akin to a Johnny Cash middle finger than a Faith Hill warm smile (although I guess I shouldn't slam on Faith being that this article from Raw Story points out that her husband is a "vocal Democrat"). Now, do you think that Nashville has embraced their originality or admires their guts... well this image from nearly EVERY Toby Keith show seems to be the answer:

I'll leave it up to you to analyze how mindless this photoshopped masterpiece really is, you don't need me to caption it.

So, the Chicks are back. This will undoubtedly lead to some sort of response from Toby Keith (a man that has made more money during the Bush Administration than Halliburton) declaring that the Dixie Chicks are touring with Osama Bin Laden or passing out Burkas at shows. I guess we can hope that it'll eventually lead to a grudge match between Tim McGraw and Toby Keith... of course little Timmy doesn't stand a chance, but maybe he could sneak his boot up Toby's ass just once... after all, it's the American way.

TAR BABY!

Now, that's a terrible thing to say. Why on Earth would I say that? What kind of person in this day and age would use a term like that in public? I should fully expect the NAACP to be protesting in front of my living room door when I get back home.

With that in mind I now fully apologize for my use of the phrase "tar baby," it was wrong and terribly insensitive. I guess I just found myself whipped up in the frenzy after hearing the new White House Press Secretary use the term in his very first briefing.


Yep, you read that correctly, Tony Snow used the UNBELIEVABLY offense term casually in a yesterday's briefing to the White House Press Corps. I have no idea what could possibly have made him think that was a good idea... but maybe we can now start hoping for yet another new press secretary in the coming days.

Of course, we should remember that this kind of thing is just par for the course when we think about our conservative buddies and their spotless records on race relations. Why, there was President Bush's comments on Social Security Privatization, "Social Security trust; a personal savings account which will compound over time and grow over time; a personal savings account which can't be used to bet on the lottery, or a dice game, or the track." And let us not forget the ultimate solution put forth by Reagan Secretary of Education, Bill Bennet in his appearance on Fox News Sunday in which he speculated that one could lower the crime rate if one was willing to "abort every black baby in the country."

This all just makes me think of freedom... big, warm, juicy freedom. And when I think of freedom, I think of only one thing.

Pat Robertson is a goddamn retard. If you're reading this and happen to be a Pat Robertson supporter then STOP. I don't want you to read any further... in all honesty, I don't even want you here.

Leave.

You're an idiot.

For those of you that need the info, here's a list of your winners... I guess I should have put this up earlier, sorry:

County Judge Executive: Darren Farmer
County Attorney: Robert King
County Clerk: Rhonda Barnett
Circuit Clerk: Darlene Drake
Sheriff: Joe Martin (D) and Danny Rogers (R)
Jailer: Melvin Rogers (D) and Ted Lacy (R)
Magistrate 1: Bobby Ginter
Magistrate 2: Ricky Creed
Magistrate 3: Harold Hurst
Magistrate 4: Jim Dennis
Magistrate 5: Shirley Crabtree
Circuit Judge: (Runoff) Larry Miller and Frank Fletcher
Constable 2: Norman Roberts
Constable 4: Emery Dunn

Questions? Comments?

The 2006 Democratic Primary is finally over. I'm sure that you're expecting an analysis of the campaigns or at least a few snide comments, but I'm going to pass on that. When it all comes out in the wash we'll see that the majority of candidates ran reasonably clean campaigns and relied on hard work and handshakes. However, more than one of our candidates decided to try a different path, one that involved spreading vicious lies, bullying opposition supporters and muckraking. I don't think that it's just a coincidence that the results went this way. It looks like the people of Powell County reacted in the negative to such filthy campaign tactics.

So, now all that's left to do is move on. If you won, congratulations... if you didn't then better luck next time. There is no more cruel game than politics, the stakes are high financially and emotionally. The stress takes it's toll not only on you, but on your friends and loved ones as well. I guess we have to ask ourselves if the end result is really worth all that goes into getting there? I think so, but I could change my mind by the Fall.

Brinton snapped this shot of my kickass (and wonderfully tacky) panther statue. It sits on my television in the living room and just over it's shoulder you can see the warm glow of my bathroom. I really enjoyed the picture, so I thought I'd share.

Also, I'd like to point out that this is my 350th post! I'd throw a 350th post party, but I'm afraid that someone would knock my panther from it's perch, thus ruining my day. Oh well, at least I'll have the picture.

Are there any two sweeter words in the world than "FLETCHER INDICTED?"

The answer is no.

Well folks, it was a long time coming, but Lexington is finally providing a very cool and very free cultural service to the people of the region. I present to you, The Bluegrass Film Society. My hat's off to these guys, whomever they may be. Throughout the coming weeks you can attend a free showing of some modern and classic cinema without driving countless miles to other cities. A night at the movies can now include an interesting alternative. VERY COOL. The upcoming schedule is posted on their website, but I'll share a few with you.

May 16th:
Gift (Perry Farrell and Casey Nicolli: US 1993)

May 23rd:
The Celebration (Thomas Vinterberg: Denmark 2003)

May 30th:
Humanite (Bruno Dumont: France 1999)

June 6th:
A Taste of Cherry (Abbas Kiarostami: Iran 1997)

June 13th:
No Man’s Land (Danis Tanovic: Bosnia 2001)

June 20th:
Pulse (Kiyoshi Kurasowa: Japan 2001)

June 27th:
Blue (Krzysztof Kieslowski: Poland 1993)

On a related note, Richard Kelly's new film is going to debut this year. It's advertised as Andy Warhol meets Phillip K. Dick, the next Brazil, and a "domain of chaos." The cast couldn't be more bizarre (The Rock, Mandy Moore, Kevin Smith, John Laroquette, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Sean William Scott), the film features a six hundred page graphic novel tie-in and Moby is doing the score... oh, and did I mention that it's been nominated for the Palme D'or (the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival)?

I'm bumping this up to #2 most anticipated film of 2006, right behind Snakes On A Plane.

Betcha Jeb Bush is running for President. I betcha. Who wants to bet me? I betcha he wins too. The American people may not vote for him, but as long as the Diebold Machines do then he should be in fine shape. That's alright, I always wanted a royal family anyway. Besides, someone has to hold the office until Jenna and Barbara are old enough to run.

Speaking of running for president, Hillary is. We all know that much for certain. Unfortunately, she's been alienating the leftists in her party for months now... until today. Apparently someone told Senator Clinton that she was in danger of "Nadering" the 2008 election, so she decided to throw a bone to the left... a really juicy bone with what appears to be some meat left on the tips... and is that STEAK SAUCE!?

Of course, it may be too little too late for Senator Clinton as the Daily Kos poll at the bottom of the article still managed to rake in 10% for "God I hate that bitch."

Just a couple of quick things for you this afternoon.

1. AOL radio has come strong with the greatest internet radio station ever... the worst 111 songs ever made. In the hour or so I've spent listening to the station I've heard everything from Lionel Ritchie to Nelson to Tony Orlando AND Dawn! Can't go wrong folks, it's a blast. The Chris Deburgh masterpiece, "Lady in Red" is playing as we speak.

2. Draw a pig! Learn more about your personality than you ever expected to from sketches of barnyard animals. The placement, direction and details of your pig will unlock a little bit of your psyche. I won't elaborate on exactly how, as that would be cheating, but I will share my pig with you.

Brinton also drew a pig, maybe we can persuade him to share his innermost thoughts by sharing his too! C'mon Brinton, let's see the pig!

Xenophobia in the United States has now officially reached the highest level of absurdity yet. An administrative official, representing a school in Lowell, MA has now called for all emergency exit signs to be exclusively displayed in English. His reasoning was, of course, perfectly thought out and extremely logical, "It's just starting with the signs, but I can see they are getting a foot in the door, and the next thing you know we'll have a separate curriculum in Spanish."

It's this simple, folks. If you're buying into this then you should be ashamed of yourself. If you think that kicking 10 million working people out of this country is the biggest issue facing the United States right now, then you're hopeless. If you're willing to take your eyes off of the botched war in Iraq, the bribery scandals, the NSA scandals and the throngs of other impeachable offenses carried out on a daily basis by this administration to go down to the US/Mexican border and build a six-foot fence then you just may be hopeless.

Of course, when I thought that this idiocy had reached critical mass I never considered that maybe I was underestimating the American public's ability to be whipped into a frenzy over idiotic issues (the economy is tanking, but so help me God... if you sing the national anthem in Spanish...). Then I saw this cartoon, taken from one of our country's very own newspapers. I'm not even going to comment on how ridiculous this is. I'll just leave that to you... but you should feel free to.

After all, you are an illegal immigrant. This nation is nothing but illegal immigrants... well, except for these guys...

... but there really aren't enough of them left to matter, right?

Now, it has come to my attention that maybe some of you just aren't keeping up with the evolution of a scandal. So, for those of you that may have missed out on this week's installment of Duke and Porter's Excellent Adventure, let me fill you in.

Randy "Duke" Cunningham was removed from his position as the official Congressional Representative of the great city of San Diego (way to pick 'em Ryan) a few months back amid a mountain of allegations ranging from bribery to abuse of power. Since then the ever-growing snowball of corruption has not only reached the size of Pee Wee Herman's Aluminum Foil Ball, but may soon become our second moon.

Randy"Duke"Cunninghamgate quickly begat Hookergate, or as Wonkette has been referring to it, Watergategate (which is the best title for a gate EVER). A quick synopsis of Watergategate would be this: The Dukester's close buddy (and bribery contemporary) Brent Wilkes used lavish parties held at the Watergate Hotel in Washington, DC to persuade our loyal public servants to see things from his point of view. The problem being that these parties were what essentially amounts to drunken, Romanesque orgies complete with gambling, boozing and of course prostitutes. After all, what Washington scandal would be complete without the mandatory hooker parade.

Then came Friday...

Hot on the heels of Watergategate the American people were treated to an unexpected and rather hastily thrown together press conference wherein the President of the United States announced the resignation of CIA director Porter Goss. President Bush didn't remark on his career accomplishments, insist that the regretted accepting his resignation or even tell him that he'd been doing a "heckuva job." Nope, the president looked happier to get rid of Goss than Gary Condit in a city park (did I really just write that?). Which is odd, considering that Bush appointed Goss, stood up for Goss, and very rarely turns his back on his appointees... for God's sake, Don Rumsfeld is still the Secretary of Defense.

So, why is Goss going the way of the Dodo? Well, sources indicate that he was deeply tied into the Watergategate/Hookergate scandal... and the best part... the prostitutes may not have been women. Woo Hoo, folks, hold onto your seats 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a summer in Washington DC!

If you haven't seen NETWORK then please do yourself a favor and rent it tonight. It's one of those films that I'd always heard people sing the praise of, but never in a million years imagined would be as flat-out goddamn amazing as it actually was. The premise is rather simple, a fictional news network turns the nightly news into real entertainment, spearheaded by an anchor that's slowly slipping into madness. It's as relevant, if not MORE relevant now than it was when it was made thirty years ago.

Just in case you don't ever actually see the film (or just in case you need some motivation) allow me to include two of the dialogue highlights, one of which is one of the most legendary moments in film history...

Howard Beale: I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV's while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad - worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.' Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot - I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad.
Howard Beale: [shouting] You've got to say, 'I'm a HUMAN BEING, Goddamnit! My life has VALUE!' So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell,
[shouting]
Howard Beale: 'I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!' I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell - 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!' Things have got to change. But first, you've gotta get mad!... You've got to say, 'I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!' Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it:
Howard Beale: [screaming at the top of his lungs] "I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"

and the lesser known speech, but one that is every bit as fantastic...

Howard Beale: We'll tell you anything you want to hear, we lie like hell.

---

Howard Beale: You're beginning to believe the illusions we're spinning here, you're beginning to believe that the tube is reality and your own lives are unreal. You do. Why, whatever the tube tells you: you dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube, you even think like the tube. This is mass madness, you maniacs. In God's name, you people are the real thing, WE are the illusion.

---

Howard Beale: Right now, there is a whole, an entire generation that never knew anything that didn't come out of this tube. This tube is the gospel, the ultimate revelation; this tube can make or break presidents, popes, prime ministers; this tube is the most awesome goddamn propaganda force in the whole godless world, and woe is us if it ever falls into the hands of the wrong people, and that's why woe is us that Edward George Ruddy died. Because this company is now in the hands of CCA, the Communications Corporation of America; there's a new chairman of the board, a man called Frank Hackett, sitting in Mr. Ruddy's office on the twentieth floor. And when the 12th largest company in the world controls the most awesome goddamn propaganda force in the whole godless world, who knows what shit will be peddled for truth on this network?

For those of you that are unaware, I've spent the last three or four days in a state of complete and total disarray. My apartment has been turned upside down and completely renovated from floor to ceiling. And, like a phoenix from the ashes, 55 8th Ave. has been born again. Now, if I can just keep my evangelical apartment from going pro-life and voting republican I'll be in great shape.

The walls, once stained with a mixture of nicotine, blood and tears have now been covered over, the carpet, once home to more than one hundred individual feet at a time has been cleaned, and most amazing of all the Dead Lizard... my soldier of a bar, is no more. In their place you will find new furniture, open space, and my personal favorite... (drumroll)... the polka dot wall. Trust me on this one, it's cool. Long gone are the days of monumental house parties, cake fights and Yosh's bed (I particularly miss that one). It's a new era on 8th Avenue, feel free to come by anytime and check out the new digs.

Thanks to Tina for reminding me that the above show existed.

On an unrelated note, I'd like to talk about the prom for a second. Now, I know that being almost 27 years old, the prom probably shouldn't be on my mind. However, I drive by the high school every day on my way to work, so this time of year I get to think of the prom at least twice a day. I don't know what this year's prom theme was, but I'm taking a guess that it may have had something to do with Paris. I'm making this educated guess based on what appears to be a replica of the Eiffel Tower that sits on the Powell County High School lawn... and Eiffel Tower that seems to be missing the upper 1/3 of the structure.

Artist's rendering of the PCHS Eiffel Tower.

It's not as if this tower was constructed and is now being taken down slowly, it looked this way leading up to, during and after the promenade. Now, I could be wrong. This may not be an Eiffel Tower at all. The structure also bares a striking resemblance to an old-timey blast furnace (if you look closely at the above photo you can probably see what I'm talking about). So maybe the prom theme for 2006 was... A NIGHT ON FURNACE MOUNTAIN!

I can see it now...

The concession stand has been decorated to look like the Bear's Den (complete with lesbians dancing on the bar). The dance floor is actually a large backyard wrestling ring, surrounded by trailers. A giant paper mache' Orbin Hatton hangs over your head as Ramona Gabbard spins AC/DC records for the crowd. Of course, had Jeff Stiles Jr. decided to go this year, he would have had the best seat in the house.

I'm sure it was magical. A night to remember... and to think, my prom theme was... ok, I have no idea what my prom theme was. But I'll remember THIS one forever.

My god, what have I come to... I'm stealing info from the Drudge Report.

However, for those of you that are having your minds twisted into a frenzy over the illegal debate, allow me to add this. The latest scandal to rock the sky-is-falling crowd is the outrage over the SPANISH VERSION OF THE NATIONAL ANTHEM!!!! How could they, how COULD they do something so horrible?

Well, guess what, in 1919 the United States government comissioned a Spanish version of the Star Spangled Banner. Of course, it was during the dreaded Woodrow Wilson Administration... and as President Wilson once said, "The seed of revolution is repression."

It should also be noted that four different versions of the National Anthem appear in Spanish on the State Department's official website.

Keep trying guys... there's obviously outrage to spare.

So, while searching the internet this afternoon I came across the webpage of an organization that some of you may not be familiar with... The Fruitarians! Now, as you probably know, many members of my family are either vegan or vegetarian on some level. I've even dabbled in vegetarianism in the past, but quickly came to a simple realization that I find is best explained by this chart:


However, as difficult as vegetarianism may be, the week-and-a-half that I spent as a fruitarian absolutely takes the cake. For ten or eleven days back in 2000 I attempted to convert to fruitarianism, figuring that it was a good way to get healthier and cut food costs (come on, how cheap is an apple). So, with no real preparation or instruction I began converting my diet exclusively to fruit products. A couple of apples for breakfast, a handful of grapes as a mid-morning snack. Oranges for lunch, dinners were often melons or a sack of pears.

At first it was great! I was losing weight, I had more energy, maybe these fruits were onto something... then something changed. I can only assume that the Eastern Kentucky diet that my body had become accustomed to dealing with was just too far of a stretch from the strict regulations of a fruitarian lifestyle. I began, quite literally, to go mad. I can't actually tell you what I was doing that was so spacey; in fact I have trouble remembering the last couple days of my fruit binge. The last clear memory I have of the entire experiment is standing in the kitchen of my duplex with an orange as Daxon's then girlfriend Masa was demanding that I eat meat. At some point she grabbed some sort of red meat from the fridge and fried it up... I sat down, ate it, and began to level out.

The most common theory when I tell that story is, "dude, I can't even imagine how f***ked up your blood sugar must have been." Which would account for the madness, I guess... I'm no medical expert, hell, I didn't even know that herpes cured cancer. But I do know one thing; I'll be sticking with this guy from now on...