3 posts from 2007

By now, you're all probably aware that Benazir Bhutto was assassinated in a fantastically lucky suicide attack in Rawalpindi. The increasingly convoluted, ahem, "investigation" certainly calls to mind another high profile but ultimately futile investigation: that of The Warren Commission. The official Pakistani story shares many parellels with the "Magic Bullet Theory" put forward by the almost certainly hell bound Warren Commission panel; the biggest difference between the two being the degree of audacity and mendaciousness. 

*ATTENTION* all you Paris Hilton clones out there: The "Magic Bullet Theory" hypothesized that one bullet was responsible for all the non-fatal wounds received by Texas Governer Connally and President Kennedy. I can almost hear it now: "Kennedy - who the hell is that?" Go back to your TMZ, wastoid.

According to the single bullet theory, a one-inch long, copper jacketed, lead core 6.5 millimeter rifle bullet fired from the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository passed through President Kennedy’s neck, Governor Connally’s chest and wrist and embedded itself in the Governor’s thigh. In doing so, the bullet traversed 15 layers of clothing, 7 layers of skin, approximately 15 inches of tissue, struck a tie knot, removed 4 inches of rib and shattered a radius bone.

Musharraf & Co. would have you believe that Bhutto was not killed by any of the 3 bullets fired from near point blank range, but rather by a suicide bomb whose blast wave apparently fractured her skull on a sunroof lever. "Yeah, yeah - that sounds about right. Now get out there and sell it!" Given the vastly reduced cognitive abilities of the average human piece of garbage, I can't imagine that they'll have a hard time dressing this pig up for mass consumption.

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On another note . . . we are now witnessing the proliferation of effusive Bhutto family biographies and special in-depth reports complete with tawdry catch phrases like: "Bhutto Assassination '07" scrawled in dripping, blood red lettering. Right on cue, the MSM has ramped up its -sigh- predictable, 8th grade educational blitzes so as to "inform" the erstwhile self-absorbed imbeciles of the world about "that country somewhere over there where that lady was shot".

Thus far, we've heard very little about the criminal money-laundering investigations in Switzerland and corruption charges in Poland and France. How fucking refreshing would it be if Wolff Blitzer nonchalantly boomed out the following: "Benazir Bhutto - last hope for democracy or just another dumb ho who got what was coming to her." If you think that was harsh, imagine what years of siphoning off public money has done to Pakistan? Fuck her and any politician who would steal money from the people they claim to champion.

Want to get a baseline reading on the collective intelligence of a nation? Take a look at how the media presents big stories like this. In the US, a flurry of self-proclaimed experts are called in to fill in the gaps for those whose synapses are a little more gaping than normal. Invariably, the commentator leads off with a map and remedial geography lesson for all those short yellow bus types. The word "Karachi" is featured prominently next to a star in a Picture Pages sort of way so there is no mistake that it is indeed the capital. Heads explode across America as many come to the slow - painfully slow - realization that Pakistan is not in Africa or Europe. Hell, the average viewer is probably not even aware that Pakistan is a predominately Muslim country, and those who are only became cognizant of the fact after 9/11.

Until the story flooded the airwaves, the vast majority of Americans simply knew nothing of Benazir Bhutto, much less anything about her father. Truth is, they wouldn't have cared even if they had prior knowledge. This is a nation that rewards duncery at every turn. Take out a loan for a small mansion on a janitor's salary, default and wait for someone to bail you out. Invest in a shady hedge fund and Helicopter Ben will fly to the rescue when you realize some broker bought obscure paintings instead of oil futures like he promised. Nod off for the last quarter century and CNN will bring you up to speed in a jiffy. Such is the world we live in.

  

I was watching the idiot box a few nights ago and - Ta Da - who appears but the most accomplished and talented actor of modern times - Adam Sandler. Hardly! Adam Sandler embodies everything that is unacceptable and embarrassing about this country. Like his retarded partner in crime Rob Schneider, Adam "the waste o' sperm" Sandler appeals to the lowest common denominator in this, our celebrity obsessed wasteland of a society. Listen up you MTV fucksticks - I'm talking to you. This is the portion of the lesson where you wastoids collect the pooling remnants of your liquefied brains and pour them back into your rotten, degenerate skulls. Now, try and keep up.

Adam Sandler is a GOP sympathizer. Think about that the next time one of you inbred turds gets the ENTIRELY INEXPLICABLE urge to laugh at this vile piece of human filth and his famously unfunny schtik. I like to imagine a country where Adam Sandler and his ilk are relegated to a sphere of relative obscurity, cracking - yawn, zzzzzzzz - Jew jokes at the Scranton, Ohio Comedy Club. But alas, you, the American idiot I loathe with every ounce of my fiber, keeps this asshole in circulation. Not only does he continue to make the dumbest films in existence *sigh* but uses his incomprehensible celebrity to further the cause of scumbugs like Giuliani, AIPAC lobbyists and worthless cum stain actors like the aforementioned Schneider. SHAME ON YOU!!

Go ahead . . . take your new Sandlerhass out for a test drive and see how it suits you. It might be a better fit than you originally thought. If not, please drown yourself as soon as the opportunity presents itself. We want you out of the gene pool post haste. 

 

Time for a survey? Great, just answer the following questions:

a. Do you think this is a movie you might enjoy?

b. Did you find the segment of the preview wherein "the Zohan" claims to be from Australia amusing?

c. Did you find the face kicking scene near the end hysterical?

Almost done, just a few more questions:

d. Are you often confused and angry with polysyllabic people?

e. Are you by any chance living near a nuclear reactor or under high tension power lines?

f. Are you intimdated by folks with "fancy book lernin"?

g. Are you currently attending a junior or technical/diesel college?

h. Do you have a hard time following conversations?

IF you answered yes to any of the questions (a) (b) or (c), then you probably answered yes to (d) (e) (f) (g) and (h). Therefore, there's a bright future for you in mass, comet-based cult suicide pacts and long distance trucking. Enjoy! 

"What a horrible blog", you're probably saying to yourself. What kind of human would purposefully set about creating a blog so vitriolic that its sole purpose could only be the propogation of mean spiritedness? I would, that's who! With my palette of condescending snarks in hand, I will paint a masterpiece of hubris and derision. I'll do my best to offend the delicate and *rolls eyes* refined sensibilities of the average American dipshit reader without any compunction whatsoever. Why you ask? Because you're probably:

a. A mentally deficient hiptard so woefully out of touch with reality that you actually think you make those ridiculously oversized sunglasses and porn-star related hoodies look good. In reality, your appearance generally illicits howls of laughter from passers-by. You have absolutely no idea what's up with this "subprime meltdown thing" but that hasn't stopped you from querying if you can have it on Bulgar wheat bread. You're a totally shallow and self-absorbed dweeb without a true friend in the world but continue to labor under the misapprehension that people really like you. You're not half as smart as you think you are and have probably read just enough Bukowski to make a complete fucking fool of yourself. And no matter how politically correct and socially responsible your outward views, you're a raging hypocrite conspicuous consumer who wouldn't be the least bit concerned if the remnants of the Amazon were cut down tomorrow. And what characterization of your silly ass would be complete without the inclusion of tribal and/or fairy tattoos. Looking good, Tiger!!

b. A degenerate redneck whose dramatically reduced mental capacity ranks him/her somewhere between the likes of this future garbage collecter . . 

and one of these fucking inbred yokels/Darwin Award candidates. "All I want for Christmas is a frontal lobe, a frontal lobe . . . . "

You yearn to be the next Dale Earnhardt and contemplated shooting your wife and kids and then yourself with an AR-15 when it was announced that "Walker: Texas Ranger" would be cancelled. You openly refer to blacks as "coloreds", Latinos as "cholos" and Asians as "slopes". You honestly believe that others are interested in your "harrowing" tales of heavy equipment operation. You certainly never "read" a book without illustrations that you could fully comprehend. You're quite prone to say things like, "I've got no problem with gays, but . . " You've often thought your teenage daughter looked "hot", and strangely enough, you can't seem to shake the feeling that something horrible happened between you and the babysitter as a child. You're the kind of person who thinks there's a special place in hell for abortion doctors, but come 8 A.M., you're the first in line at Planned Parenthood because your little princess thinks the father may be black.

c. You're a wannabe ghetto thug (as if that's really something to aspire to in the first place) who's about as "hard" as cotton candy. If you're genuinely hard, then congratulations on being an actual run-of-the-mill, murdering, drug-dealing piece of filth whose ass crack is on permanent display. You think functional illiteracy is "dope" and the fact that you couldn't pass a 6th grade equivalency test is further proof of just how hard you really are, yo! The world is generally passing you by but that doesn't matter because you and your homies are down for one another. That is until one of them busts a cap in your ass at a party taking place in the home of some 15-year-old mother of two. The shooting was justifiable according to some gangster rivalry; you're nothing but an East side bitch and he's all about the West side. You're a regular on the Maury Povich show where you are oft informed that "Marcus, you are the father - again". You're saving up your drug money for a full set of gold teeth and a diamond encrusted necklace that says "PiMp". If pressed, you wouldn't actually know how to spell "the" "that" or "with" and the 4-year-old son of the proprietor of the Korean Kwiki-Mart where you buy your malt liquor and Cool menthols corrects your grammar. A long stay at San Quentin is probably in your future.

d. You're a turgid, uptight douche bag with two advanced degrees and yet you're entirely devoid of any social skills whatsoever. You're usually the ugliest motherfucker in the room but that doesn't prevent you from looking down your bony nose at everyone in sight. You can design a gyroscope for surface to air missiles with your eyes closed but still don't know how to locate your wife's clitoris. Your female counterpart probably munched Dworkian-esque, Sarah Lawrence bush due to her serious "daddy issues" - not because she's actually a lesbian. You sure showed him! Your severely fucked up children are one more disinterested comment away from storming their high school with pipe bombs and a gauge to murder every jock who ever mocked their creepy black hair and facial piercings. Your spouse doesn't see you as a highly intelligent and accomplished professional but rather like the "Rich Monopoly Guy", aka, Rich Uncle Pennybags. Ironically, you probably more closely resemble him than you'd like to admit. You haven't accomplished a thing that daddy's money couldn't buy, and worse, you're not doing hard time in the state pen. for that "roofie incident" back in college because your father played golf with your presiding judge at a "whites only" country club every Saturday for 20 years.

Before you rush to judgement, I suggest you give it some time. I promise this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I hope to offend each and every reader I touch with my special brand of biting sarcasm and poignant witticisms. When it's all said and done, I hope that my razor-sharp insightfulness culminates in you staring blankly at your Mac wondering why god made me so fabulously clever while cursing you with such a dull, rusty blade.