Boondocks metaphor

Posted by matt Mon, 07 Jun 2004 15:35:46 GMT

Thanks Nick!

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Matt's obsession with US Politics continues unabated

Posted by matt Tue, 01 Jun 2004 19:29:41 GMT

I always enjoy a good speech. To me, it seems like the idea of a good speech is one that is more highly prized in Canada than most places. I could go on and on about what constitutes a good intelligent speech, but This speech by Al Gore fits all the criteria. Even if you don't agree with the content, he makes a good case for it.

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GWB's New, Improved plan to end the occupation

Posted by matt Wed, 26 May 2004 16:57:53 GMT

Personal Note. Why is "Just Leaving" So hard? What's so hard about the US just taking their toys and going home.

Fake Q&A with George Bush regarding his New plan to "transfer sovereignty".

Q: What are the new five steps? A: They are: 1. Handing over authority to a sovereign Iraqi government. 2. Establishing security. 3. Continuing to rebuild Iraq's infrastructure. 4. Moving toward a national election in Iraq. Q: Those are good steps! A: We are glad you like them. Q: How are they different from the old five steps? A: They are the same as the old five steps, but they have the newly-added quality of newness. Q: But - A: We are staying the course.

Q: How will security be established? A: Quickly, and with the aid and cooperation of the Iraqi people. Q: Wow, that sounds like a great idea, it makes me wonder why we didn't think of it before! A: We did, but back then, that idea was an old idea. Now it sparkles with the sheen of the New. Its ridges are hard and bold and striking. Its curves are supple and smooth and inviting. It bounces with the ebullient step of youth, fresh to the world like a newborn babe.

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The smart anti-globalization activist's bookshelf

Posted by matt Sat, 08 May 2004 17:49:14 GMT

So I'm sitting here watching an interview with Joel Bakan, who wrote "The Corporation" and I thought I'd write down the four books I've read that have helped crystallize my political opinions.

Globalization and it's discontents, by Joseph Stiglitz No Logo, by Naomi Klein The Corporation, by Joel Bakan. Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser

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Too stereotypical

Posted by matt Fri, 07 May 2004 15:52:01 GMT

UNIX Geeks and pizza, together at last

Only UNIX geeks would take a perfectly good web-enabled pizza ordering system, and make a complicated, arcane command line utility out of it...

I'm so proud!

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How I want my eulogy to start.

Posted by matt Tue, 04 May 2004 18:15:54 GMT

After hearing platitude after platitude about how Pat Tillman was "at home" and "at peace" and "with God now" Rich Tillman started off his speech at the memorial service for his brother thusly.

"Pat isn't with God,'' he said. "He's fucking dead. He wasn't religious. So thank you for your thoughts, but he's fucking dead.''

I think this is the perfect way to start a eulogy, not sad acceptance, not religious comfort, nothing but sheer unadulterated rage at the unfairness of chance. Whether you're religious or not, the fact that a person isn't there, is not around to talk to, to commiserate with, to change the world for the better, or worse. You can never see, or feel, or hear them again. That makes me angry. Religious people comfort themselves with these platitudes about being "at home" and "with god" to feel better about the gut-wrenching sense of loss.

Wow, after all that, all I really wanted to do was post a pointer to this article. It's about mis-placed hero worship. It's very good. I guess I just outed myself as an atheist there, eh?

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Link-O-Rama

Posted by matt Fri, 30 Apr 2004 19:49:26 GMT

My New Car My new Hobby My New Dog (actually, this is putto, the cutest ugly dog known to man And this link is just so that IWS will know when it's legal

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IKEA claims another 10,000 lifestyles.

Posted by matt Thu, 29 Apr 2004 14:18:57 GMT

In the next installment of my ongoing chronicle of IKEA humor, I present you The latest Onion article

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Albequerque.

Posted by matt Wed, 28 Apr 2004 18:09:01 GMT

This is a huge time-waster The AsK Al Archive

Way back when I was just a little bitty boy living in a box under the stairs in the corner of the basement of the house half a block down the street from Jerry's Bait Shop... you know the place... well anyway, back then life was going swell and everything was juuuuust peachy... except of course for the undeniable fact that every single morning… my mother would make me a big ol' bowl of sauerkraut for breakfast… Arggggh! Big bowl of sauerkraut!! Every single morning!! It was driving me crazy! I said to my mom, I said, "Hey! Mom! What's up with all the sauerkraut??" And my dear sweet mother, she just looked at me like a cow looks at an oncoming train, and she leaned right down next to me, and she said, "Unhhhh... It's goooood for you!" And then she tied me to the wall and stuck a funnel in my mouth and force-fed me nothing but sauerkraut until I was twenty-six and a half years old. That's when I swore that someday, someday I would get out of that basement and travel to a magical, far-away place where the sun is always shining and the air smells like warm root beer and the towels are oh-so-fluffy... where the shriners and the lepers play their ukuleles all day long and anyone on the street will gladly shave your back for a nickel. Wocka wocka doo doo yeah. Well, let me tell you, people, it wasn't long at all before my dream came true, because the very next day a local radio station had this contest to see who could correctly guess the number of molecules in Leonard Nimoy's butt. I was off by three, but I still won the grand prize... That's right, a first-class one-way ticket... to Al…buquerque! Al…buquerque! Oh yeah… You know, I'd never been on a real airplane before, and I gotta tell you, it was really great… except that I had to sit between two large Albanian women with excruciatingly severe body odor, and the little kid in back of me kept throwing up the whole time, and the flight attendants ran out of Dr. Pepper and salted peanuts, and the in-flight movie was "Bio-Dome" with Pauly Shore, and three of the airplane engines burned out and we went into a tailspin and crashed into a hillside and the plane exploded in a giant fireball and everybody died… except for me… you know why? 'Cause I had my tray table up… and my seat back in the full upright position, had my tray table up… and my seat back in the full upright position… had my tray table up… and my seat back in the full upright position… Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!! So I crawled from the twisted, burning wreckage… I crawled on my hands and knees for three full days… dragging along my big leather suitcase and my garment bag and my tenor saxophone and my twelve-pound bowling ball and my lucky, lucky autographed glow-in-the-dark snorkel. But finally I arrived at the world-famous Albuquerque Holiday Inn where the towels are oh-so-fluffy… and you can eat your soup right out of the ashtrays if you wanna. It's okay, they're clean! Well, I checked into my room and I turned down the AC and I turned on the Spectravision and I'm just about to eat that little chocolate mint on my pillow that I love so very, very much when suddenly there's a knock on the door. Well, now who could that be? I say, "Who is it?" No answer. "Who is it?" There's no answer. "Who is it??" They're not sayin' anything. So finally I go over and I open the door, and just as I suspected… it's some big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock of Seagulls haircut and only one nostril. Ohhhh, man, I hate it when I'm right. So anyway, he bursts into my room and he grabs my lucky snorkel and I'm like, "Hey! You can't have that! That snorkel's been just like a snorkel to me!" And he's like, "Tough!" And I'm like, "Give it!" And he's like, "Make me!" And I'm like, "'kay!" So I grabbed his leg and he grabbed my esophagus and I bit off his ear and he chewed off my eyebrows and I took out his appendix and he gave me a colonic irrigation. Yes indeed, you better believe it. And somehow in the middle of it all the phone got knocked off the hook and twenty seconds later, I heard a familiar voice, and you know what it said? I'll tell you what it said. It said, "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator... If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator..." in Al…buquerque! Al…buquerque! Well, to cut a long story short, he got away with my snorkel. But I made a solemn vow right then and there that I would not rest… I would not sleep for an instant… until the one-nostriled man was brought to justice. But first I decided to buy some donuts. So I got in my car and I drove over to the donut shop and I walked on up to the guy behind the counter and he says, "Yeah, whaddaya want?" I said, "You got any glazed donuts?" He said, "No, we're outta glazed donuts." I said, "Well, you got any jelly donuts?" He said, "No, we're outta jelly donuts!" I said, "You got any Bavarian creme-filled donuts?" He said, "No, we're outta Bavarian creme-filled donuts!" I said, "You got any cinnamon rolls?" He said, "No, we're outta cinnamon rolls!" I said, "You got any apple fritters?" He said, "No, we're outta apple fritters!" I said, "You got any bear claws?" He said, "Wait a minute, I'll go check……………..No!! We're outta bear claws!!" I said, "Well, in that case... in that case, what do you have?" He says, "All I got right now is this box of one dozen starving, crazed weasels." I said, "Okay. I'll take that." So he hands me the box and I open up the lid and the weasels jump out and they immediately latch onto my face and start biting me all over. Arr arrrr arrrrh. Oh man, they were just going nuts. They were tearing me apart! You know, I think it was just about that time that a little ditty started going through my head. I believe it went a little something like this: "Arrrrrrgh!!! Get 'em off of me!!! Get 'em off me!!! Argggggh!!! Get 'em off!! Get 'em off!! Arrrrrrrrgh... Arggggggghh!!!" I ran out into the street with these flesh-eating weasels all over my face, waving my arms all around and just running, running, running like a constipated wiener dog. And as luck would have it, that's exactly when I ran into the girl of my dreams. Her name was Zelda. She was a calligraphy enthusiast with a slight overbite and hair the color of strained peaches. I'll never forget the very first thing she said to me. She said, "Hey. You've got weasels on your face." That's when I knew it was true love. We were inseparable after that. Aw, we ate together, we bathed together, we even shared the same piece of mint-flavored dental floss. Aw, the world was our burrito. So we got married and we bought us a house and had two beautiful children, Nathaniel and Superfly. Oh, we were so very, very, very happy. Oh yeah. But then one fateful night, Zelda said to me, she said, "Sweetie Pumpkin… do you want to join the Columbia record club?" I said, "Whoa! Hold on now, baby! I'm just not ready for that kind of a commitment!" So we broke up and I never saw her again. But that's just the way things go... in Al…buquerque! Al…buquerque! Anyway, things really started looking up for me, because about a week later I finally achieved my life-long dream. That's right, I got me a part-time job at the Sizzler. I even made Employee of the Month after I put out that grease fire with my face. Oh yeah, everybody was pretty jealous of me after that. I was gettin' a lot of attitude. Okay, like one time, I was out in the parking lot trying to remove my excess ear wax with a golf pencil, when I see this guy Marty trying to carry a big ol' sofa up the stairs all by himself. So I say to him, I say, "Hey! You want me to help you with that?" And Marty, he just rolls his eyes and goes, "Nooo, I want you to cut off my arms and legs with a chain saw." So I did. And then he gets all indignant on me! He's like, "Hey, man, I was just being sarcastic!" Well, that's just great. How was I supposed to know that? I'm not a mind-reader, for crying out loud. Besides, now he's got a really cute nickname - Torso Boy - so what's he complaining about? Say, that reminds me of another amusing anecdote. This guy comes up to me on the street and he tells me he hasn't had a bite in three days. Well, I knew what he meant, but just to be funny I took a big bite out of his jugular vein. And he's yelling and screaming and bleeding all over, and I'm like, "Hey! Come on! Don't you get it?" But he just keeps rolling around on the sidewalk, bleeding and screaming, "Ahhhhh!! Ahhhhh!! Ahhhhhh!!!" - y'know, completely missing the irony of the whole situation. Man, some people just can't take a joke, y'know? Anyway, I uh... Um… where was I?...... I kinda lost my train of thought. Uh… Well, okay, anyway, I know it's kind of a round-about way of saying it, but I guess the whole point I'm trying to make here is... I... HATE... SAUERKRAUT!! That's all I'm really trying to say. And by the way, if one day you happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandary, full of loathing and self-doubt and wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful, meaningless existence, at least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that somewhere out there in this crazy ol' mixed-up universe of ours, there's still a little place... called Al…buquerque! Al…buquerque! Albuquerque! Albuquerque! Albuquerque! Albuquerque! I said, A! (A!) L! (L!) B! (B!) U! (U!) ...querque!! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Querque!!) Albuquerque! (Albuquerque!) Al…… buquerque!

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Angry White Boy Polka

Posted by matt Wed, 28 Apr 2004 15:51:36 GMT

I love weird al

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