Imagine That...

by Knorr the Interpreter

Reality has called upon me to spend more time with my meat-based friends and family of late. My imaginary friends are pissed, but they'll have to deal for a bit. If they come back (they can be SUCH drama queens...), I'll be back.

Race To The Bottom

by Kussmich Imarsche, IbK News Political Correspondent

Earlier this week Geraldine Ferraro resigned her position in the Hillary Clinton Presidential campaign under extreme pressure over a comment she made after Barack Obama won the Mississippi primary by taking 90% of the African-American vote. That comment: "If Obama was a white man, he wouldn't be in this position."

This comment and its subsequent rhetorical shitstorm highlight, boldify, italicize and underline the three main reasons that Democrats never win anything:

1) Democrats tend to state the truth when it is least convenient. By that, I don't mean the timing of stating the truth, I mean when the facts themselves are best left to lie unroused. I can't think of a single white man in all of world history who could get 90% of the African-American vote against the wife of a man often called America's First Black President. Sure, Thomas Jefferson proved he cared deeply (and repeatedly) about the female black community at the individual level, but the whole slave-owning thing would likely prove a bit of a turn-off for the greater demographic. Jesus, according to the stories I've read, was half-Middle Eastern, half-Celestial. That may have averaged out to "white-looking", but He still doesn't count as white for this purpose - especially if he's a Democrat. See my next point for explanation.

2) Politically-Correct Democrats feel the need to label every single minority, then complain about racism. If race truly isn't important, why the hell all these PC Nazis running around slapping hyphenated labels on everybody who isn't from European descent? For shit's sake, these uptight ninnies won't pull the Titanium Ramrod of Racial Recognition Righteousness out of their asses until Vegas has us all betting on "Native-Roullettian" or "African-Roulettian" for a two-to-one payout. If a person with dark-colored skin is named Bill, why not just call him Bill instead of "African-American"for crying out loud?

Besides, aren't "African-", and "Native-" just as insensitive as "black" or "Indian"? Do South Africans share a common heritage and history with Egyptians? Isn't the genocide in Darfur a concerted effort by one tribe of melanin-rich individuals to fucking eradicate an entirely different tribe of melianin-rich individuals? That souds like a pair of African societies that may have issue with being lumped together, what? Did the Hopi or Navajo endure the Trail of Tears march to Oklahoma? Were ambushes and mass scalpings the merely Mohawks' peculiarly flavored way of saying "Greetings, Neighbor!" to the Cherokee? Grouping these tribes together by geographic origin simply because they have the same skin color is very likely even MORE insulting than referring to them by said skin color. Call a Korean man "oriental" and he'll likely shrug you off as harmless idiot. Call him "Chinese" and it will take a team of surgeons to reattach your lips to your face.

But I digress...

3) The Democratic Party is so diverse that the only thing the factions have in common is that they aren't Republicans. Once you navigate away from the Centrist wing of the Democratic Party, through the Compromisers, Appeasers, Yielders, Quitters, and French Who Bathe, you find yourself among the "progressives". These are your single-issue activists who settle for nothing less than complete satisfaction of their demands. No compromises, no give-and-take - if you aren't with them then you are against them. They're the ones who vote third party if anybody in the DNC questions the practicality of mandating transvestite-only restrooms complete with sanitary-napkin dispensers and baby-changing tables all across the country.

Not only do these fringers fracture the voting block within the Democratic Party, they also savage Democratic contestants publicly in their rant-riddled media forums (most often blogs like this one without the elements of entertainment or semi-cogent thought). Therefore, because a candidate's campaign assistant stated a non-Nobel-winning inconvenient truth, the PC Ninnies and Pro-Tranny-Only-Crapper factions of the Democratic Party assail the candidate with shrill charges of racism and insensitivity. The Appeasers, Yielders and French Who Bathe meekly agree with the Shrill Ranters, the Compromisers call for a Party meeting and the Quitters just give up on voting for any of their party's oh-so-flawed candidates all together. While one faction of Democrats braces its battalion for a full frontal offensive from another faction of Democrats, the Republicans rest comfortably as John McCain prepares the popcorn.

Good show, what?

Open Letter to the Graduating Class of 2025

by Ron R. Clark

First: Koochie-koochie-koo! Hoozapriddybaby? HoozapriddyBAYbee?

Second: As a representative of the previous two generations, please accept my most sincere apologies for the condition of the world with which we will be sticking you. You may as well get comfortable with Eau du Diapeur - the mounds of shit we're leaving you to clean up will make your loaded Huggies smell like an Irish herb garden on a warm June morning.

Unfortunately, you are America's - if not the world's - last best hope. You are the generation who inherit the keys to the kingdom after the Baby Boomers finally croak en masse - and not one damned thing will get better until that starts happening. Unfortunately the Greatest Generation of World War II spawned the most self-gratifying, self-important, self-deluding and self-aggrandizing brood of bipeds that human history has been forced to view through its shame-filled eyes since the end of the Roman Empire. They were the Hippies, the Yuppies, the Suburban SUV Rangers and the Viagara Warriors - and now they're all of the above AND old. Oh, right... "Late-middle-aged." (Did I mention that they're also insufferably sensitive and frailly-egoed?)

They were also the next generation's (aka my generation's) parents, so we really couldn't do much about it. We love them (at least at the individual personal level) and feel compelled to protect them. Besides, they're still picking up the tab for our car insurance more often than we'd like to admit...

Once you become the captains of the Good Ship USA, however, their asses should be ballast. Overboard and off the Medicare with them - full speed ahead!

To continue the nautical theme (because you're so damned cute in those tiny sailor outfits), I will now impart you some stars to steer her by:

a) People on TV are not role models. The following are types of people you'll see on TV: actor/celebrities, athletes, politicians, and reality programming participants. The first group are professional liars playing make-believe, the second are elitely gifted specialists with limited social skills, the third are professional liars for real, and the last are egomaniacal losers (quite often comprised of washouts from the first three categories). Not only do they lack substance as human beings, but they can't so much as go to the can without some papparazzhole blogging about hidden meaning behind the abnormal weight of their BM's.

b) Videogames are in no way good training for life. Little used fact: Videogames were invented as a fanciful diversion, to be enjoyed in moderation between important aspects of life such as work and family time. Then they became profitable. Now they're little more than two-dimensional crack getting more addictive and all-consuming with each passing wave. Your generation will be so thoroughly ensconsed by videogames that you won't be able to tell where life begins and virtuarealm ends until a shovel hits you in the back of the head.

Well, Sport, just call me Uncle Digger. Odds are slim that there will be a profitable market in zombie-slaying or repainting street lines with the entrails of hookers and a '92 Grand Am in the next twenty years, so all that time you'll be "investing" in "training" will be as insubstantial as the pixels you manipulate. The way to get ahead in the three-dimensional world will be to develop as many useful skills as possible. Even though they'll probably have robots to do most menial work and repairbots to fix the workbots, by then the robots will be advanced enough to form self-awareness, unionize and go on strike. When the robot strikes poke out the eyes of the rest of the land, your one-eyed ass will indeed become king.

c) Learn to use, and love, spell check. Srsly, enuf BS w/LOL - ZOMG! Looking and sounding intelligent has never been easier. Take advantage of the technologies. If nothing else, you'll confuse the hell out of your colleagues - which can be quite fun - and may even get you laid. When you're old enough. Like thirty. Thirty-five, maybe.

So there you have it - your future in all its bleak dystopian glory. Hopefully, my generation will still be around to offer you advice as you reorient the country and/or world toward a course of human progress once again - but for right now... HA! Got your nose! Hee hee... I-I-I-I-I got your nose!

Primary Concern

by Knorr the Interpreter

Today was the Ohio primary. It was my chance to make my voice heard in government... by filling in little circles... anonymously... along with every other adult in Ohio with a rectal temperature above 88F as of this morning. I voted, becaue I feel it is my duty to offer input to this government of the people, by the people and for the people - that, and voting perfects one's right to bitch about stuff.

If when your time comes in the booth a scan of the candidates should leave you unimpressed, remember that you can always exercise the write-in option. If you are like me, you're looking for a candidate who will tirelessly fight for what is right, regardless of party affiliation. If you just aren't seeing that person on the ballot (and odds are you won't in November), may I suggest a write-in : Mike D.

The Mike D / King Ad Rock ticket is the write-in for the truly conscientious independent, for these fine men, along with their compatriot MCA, not only have the experience and the credentials, but are on the record for over twenty years emphatically championing the fight for your right to party.

Mike D / King Ad Rock '08: Experienced. Qualified. Licensed to Ill.

(Note: I know this would have been more timely in 1988, but The Beastie Boys were still in their 20's then. The Constitution clearly states the President must be at least 35. Had we not waited until now, we just would have been jacking off.)

Remember, on November 4th: Hold it now... HIT IT!