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Wednesday, July 1, 2009
This week the United States moved ever closer to completing its daring humanitarian mission in Iraq: to slowly and grudgingly leave the country, after paying local residents not to kill them, after spending a very long time killing those residents by any means possible, after failing to recruit those residents to work for them, after invading their country and destroying its infrastructure. And to think they said it couldn't be done.
Were lives lost? Of course. Were cities razed, flesh burned with poison gas, families slaughtered and children raped? Naturally. But one can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, burning the crockery, setting the kitchen on fire, firebombing the restaurant and summarily executing the survivors. And lest we forget, the cause for which America launched this war was a good and noble one. For although the war neither made America safe nor Iraq free, it did address one critical problem: the apparent existence of some one million surplus human beings living in that nation, which the United States, in its capacity as the forthright leader of the Free World, quickly recognized and sought to correct. As America's work in Iraq gradually draws to a close, we now turn to the problem of too many Afghans living in Afghanistan, the crisis of a Pakistan menaced by hordes of Pakistanis, and the dire encroachment of Iranians on the nation of Iran. We can only hope that the same wisdom that has made America such an enormous force for good in the world will continue to guide its hand. Labels: running the world, warnography
posted by the Medium Lobster at 12:53 PM
Monday, June 22, 2009
"How long you think we got before the end of the world?" says me.
"Forever!" says Giblets. "We'll outlast the universe with nothing but gumption and can-do and thousands of tiny robots!" "It's true!" says me. "A year before the end of the world we will solve the everything shortage through the invention of a miraculous device that can make anything out of simple air and dirt!" "Now all we need is a way to replenish our rapidly dwindling supply of air and dirt," says Giblets. "A dangerous rogue nation begins exploiting the air shortage through the suspected inhalation of strategic air currents," says me. "Sabers are rattled, sanctions imposed, war is declared!" says Giblets. "Who wins the war?" says me. "No one," says Giblets, "but that's not important, what's important is the principle!" "That's right!" says me. "And what's the principle?" "Eh, who cares," says Giblets. "Meanwhile a super-secret rocket ship carrying our best and brightest rich people blasts off from earth to start up a newer, sexier earth in the vastness of space!" "They are caught by the government of space and deported for overstaying their visas," says me. "A month before the end of the world we solve all our energy problems by tapping into the vast inexhaustible power source of the sun!" says Giblets. "A week after that we run outta sun," says me. "And who needs the fat stupid sun anyway, so stupid and fat!" says Giblets. "A deadly rogue nation is suspected of exploiting the dirt crisis by hoarding its own supply of dirt," says me, "as well as a secret stockpile of rocks, which could be potentially enriched into dirt." "Sabers are rattled, sanctions imposed, war is declared!" says Giblets. "A week before the end of the world it's finally time for the rapture," says me. "The skies open up and the heavens roll back and God descends from the firmament to rescue his chosen people, the Ganges river dolphin." "Stupid dolphins, with their universal brotherhood and their gentleness of spirit!" says Giblets. "We shoulda finished em off when we had the chance." "A day before the end of the world there's a super-big emergency meeting of super-big emergency countries about the end of the world," says me. "The big question of the day is, what are we gonna do about the end of the world?" "Sabers are rattled, sanctions imposed, war is declared!" says Giblets. "An hour before the end of the world we're sittin in a bunker thinkin about all the valuable lessons we learned," says me. "Giblets has learned how to draw a turkey by tracing his hand and adding a smiley face," says Giblets. "And I learned that if you try real hard anything is possible in the end!" says me. "It's too bad we didn't try then," says Giblets. "Well maybe next time," says me. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 10:13 AM
"There's a bomb somewhere in the city, and it's going to go off in twenty-four hours!"
"Oh no!" "Get me the president!" "We don't know the president." "Then get me the vice-president!" "We don't know him either." "Well how bout our local city councilman? We can start up a petition or a letter-writing campaign!" "It'll be an adventure... in civics!" "There's a bomb somewhere in this kitchen, and it's going to go off in a week!" "Oh no!" "Probably! If it gets around to it! It's got a lot on its plate right now!" "Someone in this room is a murderer!" "Statistically speaking, that is, since this room is a very large room!" "In fact it is less of a room and more of an amphitheater." "In fact it is less of an amphitheater and more of an ocean." "Someone in this room is a series of coral atolls!" "There's a bomb behind this couch, and it is not actually a bomb, it is actually a potato." "And it's going to go off in twenty-four hours!" "Oh no!" Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 9:10 AM
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
What happened here? We step out for just half a year or so, and all of you turn into Chinese spam? So sad.
posted by fafnir at 10:50 AM
Thursday, February 19, 2009
 Ah, Israel, the holy land, light unto the nations! Barely a month after valiantly killing 1300 Gazans, maiming and wounding thousands more, and leaving the rest for dead in an open-air prison, Israel has stood up for its right to stand up to other people's rights by forming its most hawkish possible government. A lesser nation might have wavered in the face of a merciless Palestinian onslaught of pleading and stump-waving, but Israel realizes this is a war between good and evil, right and wrong, civilization and those too poor to afford civilization. True, it's far from a fair fight - Israel has a mere three hundred nuclear warheads while the Palestinians have countless rocks to throw - but somehow the pluck and determination of this scrappy regional superpower has prevailed over the deadly horde of orphans, beggars and amputees who threaten to live next to it.Israel's critics will forever bicker over the spilled milk of Israeli policy - a few thousand homes demolished here, a few thousand corpses over there - but we must allow that Israel has a right to defend itself, and we must also allow that defending itself necessarily entails the indiscriminate bombing of thousands of screaming refugees. After all, if an implacable terrorist enemy had been launching rockets at one of your villages, wouldn't you do everything in your power to stop them? And once those same implacable terrorist enemies agreed to a cease-fire, wouldn't you break that cease-fire by bombing them and their families, reasoning that they are, after all, implacable terrorist enemies, and not to be trusted? And when you went to bomb those terrorists and their families, wouldn't you also bomb everyone and everything around them, reasoning that only a terrorist would live near, go to school with, or be hospitalized in the same vicinity as a terrorist? And when you went to bomb everything around them, wouldn't you be sure to plan that bombing months before the event that nominally precipitated it? And before planning that massive bombing campaign, wouldn't you be sure to cut the entire population off from terrorist food, militant medicine, and jihadist electricity for months in advance? And when that population retaliated against your pre-retaliation retaliation by launching rockets at one of your villages, wouldn't that merely confirm their nature as implacable terrorist enemies who must be destroyed at any cost? Yes, we may be tempted to mourn the civilian dead, but in killing those civilians, isn't Israel merely protecting itself against future terrorists who would otherwise go on to retaliate against Israel for the deaths of their children? And yes, we may be tempted to mourn the deaths of the children, but in killing those children, isn't Israel simply preemptively taking out future militants who would otherwise grow up to avenge the deaths of their parents? As much as we might all yearn for peace, history has shown that Palestinians understand only violence. Well, violence and Arabic, but Arabic is notoriously difficult to learn, while most of us can become fluent in violence in just under a semester. Labels: rhymes with shmisrael, warnography
posted by the Medium Lobster at 11:38 AM
Monday, February 2, 2009
"The earth will quake and the sea will boil and the moon will be as blood and every knee shall bow before the coming of the Fafblocalypse!" says Giblets.
"Or we could take the bus home," says me. "The bus is damned!" says Giblets. "It is dumb and lame and smells like bus-smell and its name shall be struck from the Book of Life which is the second death!" "I don't see a book a life," says me goin through the knapsack. "We got some mad libs an a ol Count Chocula box an a copy a Dr. Seuss's Gustavus Goose and the Moose on the Loose." "Then the bus's name shall be struck from that!" says Giblets. "Which is, like, one and a half deaths at least." "Maybe we can take the train then," says me. "Amtrak is also damned!" says Giblets. "All are lame and fallen short of the glory of Giblets! Fetch the list of plagues!" "Sugar, corn syrup, high fructose corn syrup," says me readin the Count Chocula box. "Lecithin, niacin, potassium sorbate, potassium benzoate..." "On the first day will come the plague of rats!" says Giblets. "On the second day will come the plague of even fatter rats! On the third day will come ice cream." "See, there you go!" says me. "Everybody likes ice cream." "Ice cream full of rats!" says Giblets. "On the fourth day will come the plague of locusts. On the fifth day will come the plague of tiny rats riding locusts and throwing tiny rat spears at everybody! On the sixth day will come the plague of frogs!" "What happens if the plague of frogs starts eatin the plague of locusts?" says me. "Well then Giblets will smite the plague of frogs with a plague of snakes," says Giblets. "But won't the plague of snakes just eat the plague of rats?" says me. "Then Giblets will just have to smite the plague of snakes with a plague of mongooses!" says Giblets. "But then the mongooses will just eat the rest a the locusts," says me. "Oh, stupid insectivores!" says Giblets. "The food chain is damned!" "Hey, I know!" says me. "Maybe we can just forget the whole plague thing an try somethin different. Like insteada blowin up the world we could make it stay after school or boycott its advertisers or write a strongly-worded letter to its ombudsman." "Never! The world has been wicked and forgotten our commandments!" says Giblets. "The first commandment is to obey our commandments. The second commandment is to obey the first commandment. The third commandment is why aren't you obeying our commandments? The fourth commandment is you are damned!" "They're the time-tested moral truths this country was founded on," says me. "And that's why it's damned!" says Giblets. "Which reminds me, it's time for the roll call of the damned! When you hear your name called line up on the left-hand side for the lake of fire and rats. Remember no pushing or cutsies! Cutsies will be damned!" "I don't see who you're talkin to," says me lookin around. "Well we musta got here early," says Giblets. "The rest of the world should be here any minute now." "I still don't see em," says me. "Maybe you forgot to send the invites." "No, Giblets sent them out like a month ago!" says Giblets. "They were on the little Transformer party cards that said 'end of the world, Monday at three, save the date'." "Well maybe you shoulda told everybody there was gonna be cake," says me. "The cake was gonna be the big surprise!" says Giblets kickin the cake. "Well no more Mr. Nice Armageddon! Double the rats! Triple the plagues! Release the ominous dream midgets! Everybody's extra-damned now!" "I don't think anybody's coming, Giblets," says me feedin a piece a carrot to one a the rats. "Well obviously!" says Giblets. "And now Giblets has sixteen plagues and a rented lake of fire that are just going to waste!" "No, I mean I don't think anybody's coming ever," says me. "Giblets doesn't understand," says Giblets. "There's nobody left, Giblets," says me. "The world's already ended." The rat finishes the carrot and looks around. It's pretty quiet. "You talk crazy talk!" says Giblets. "The world can't end!" "It musta happened a while ago," says me. "The good guys were busy bombin the bad guys for tryin to bomb the good guys back, an in the meantime the ocean started rising, so they bombed the ocean, which worked okay till they started runnin outta ocean. Then they started drillin in the ocean for more ocean, and -" "Why didn't you tell Giblets!" says Giblets. "Well you seemed so excited," says me. "But! Bhaheh!" says Giblets. "But Giblets likes the world." "It's not so bad Giblets," says me. "We got some good mossy rocks, an the rain still works, an maybe if you're good in a coupla hundred million years we'll get some kinda squid people." Giblets sniffs. "Really?" says Giblets. "You promise?" "Well first you gotta show you're responsible," says me. "Like maybe we can start you out with some bugs an microbes for a while, an if you take good care of em maybe in a coupla geological epochs we can get you some vertebrates or hunter-gatherers or a puppy." "Giblets promises he'll be good!" says Giblets. "Giblets will feed the world and walk it and play with it every day!" "Well, okay then," says me pickin up the last couple rats. "We can start off with these guys an see where it goes from there." "Giblets will name this one Atom, for he will be the foundational element of our bold new world!" says Giblets. "And I'll name this one Steve, after my uncle Steve," says me. "And together they shall claim tomorrow for all ratkind!" says Giblets. "Could be worse," says me. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 8:29 AM
Thursday, January 22, 2009
We'll be back to regular blogging on Monday. Don't anybody inaugurate any new presidents or ethnically cleanse any Mideast ghettos while we're gone!
UPDATE! Monday has been rescheduled for Wednesday on account of bird flu. UPDATE UPDATE! Wednesday has been rescheduled for Thursday because of its more amenable patron deity. UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE! Thursday has been postponed til Friday 'cause you know what? We don't like your attitude, young man. UPDATE! Okay, so it didn't happen today either. But that just shows the kind of strong commitment to principle we have here at Fafblog. Oh sure, we could've written something for Monday. And we could've written something for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, too. But that'd just be taking the easy way out. We'll not-post today, we'll not-post tomorrow, and we'll not-post for as long as it takes just to satisfy you, our dedicated readers! P.S. see you on Monday. Labels: important important
posted by fafnir at 11:36 AM
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Labels: rhymes with shmisrael, warnography
posted by fafnir at 12:49 PM
Thursday, January 1, 2009
It should come as no surprise that this blog has been nominated for a Pretend Internet Award® in recognition of its tireless devotion to journalistic excellence, largely coherent grammar and qualified relationship to linear time. Our writers are even now being flown in a private jet to the awards ceremony along with such fellow luminaries as Andrew Sullivan, BritneyBlog and several recycled LOLcats.
Never fear, though: success will not change Fafblog. Should we be awarded this highly prestigious distinction, the same team of hard-working bloggers will return the following month to bring you cutting-edge commentary on the '98 midterms; if not, we should be back by August at the very latest. Labels: important important
posted by the Medium Lobster at 9:49 PM
Monday, December 8, 2008
So I'm headin out to the store to get some popcorn when a snowstorm hits town an freezes me in a block a ice. A coupla thousand years later I get thawed out by some friendly sciencebots diggin through the arctic tundra who label me an ship me to my new home at the Franklin D. Schwarzenegger Museum of Disposable History where I dazzle and amaze the children of tomorrow with the edutaining puppet shows of yesterday.
"And that's how Jesus wrote the Constitution," says me. "Tell us more tales of your savage time!" says one a the disembodied floatin brains. "Well back in the ol days we didn't have your fancy Senatrons and Congressbots," says me. "We hadda pick our presidents the ol fashioned way, with a money-eating contest. The first candidate to swallow half a billion dollars without throwin up would be King of all Florida!" "Intriguing!" says the second brain. "Now battle Clone Lincoln... to the death!" "Raaarrrrr!" says Clone Lincoln. The exhibit closes after a coupla weeks. The curator brain says they might do another one where I narrate scenes from World War Four where Allied leaders oil up and wrestle crocodiles if they can get enough grant money together. In the meantime I get shipped off to a living history museum in New Texylvania where I portray Agnes, a hardscrabble milk maid workin her way across the historic American frontier. "It used to take six whole hours to churn just one pail a butter," says me churnin some pretend butter. "Raaarrrrr!" says Buzz Aldrin crashin through the door. "Oh no, moon rabies, a ubiquitous hazard of the historic American frontier!" says me. We battle to the death. Everything seems to be goin okay til the FBI raid. It turns out butter is now classified as a Schedule I narcotic and I am under arrest on eighteen counts of racketeering, possession with intent to distribute and de-assaulting a police assaulter. I escape in the middle of the night with the help of an unfrozen caveman, an animatronic dinosaur and the robotic head of Alexander Hamilton. We make our way across the countryside disguised as a band of wandering minstrels til I find my way home. "Did you get the popcorn?" says Giblets. "Nah it got all snowy," says me. "You are useless like the buffalo!" says Giblets. So I'm headin back out to the store when an unseasonable monsoon hits an buries half the town in a mudslide. I am discovered ten thousand years later by a group a golden-helmed god-kings riding horses of flame. "Welcome, Fafnir, to the Age of Wonders!" says the god-kings. "Stupid age of wonders," says me. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 10:11 AM
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
 Look, up in the sky! Just there over the mountains and under the clouds and behind the pulleys and levers they use to raise and lower the sun there's the shine of a plate and a flaky brown crust and the sweet smell of fresh fruit filling and could it be... could it be pie?Now dogs are barkin and kids are pointin and grown men are fallin over in the street and the president is on the TV goin Hey now let's stay calm here people when he breaks down in tears on accounta he never really believed in pie before now an now there's little kids and granmas and popes and things lining up from all over in the streets to see the pie when it lands and one very old man, one very very old man like ninety or a hundred or a thousand years old and he hasn't seen a pie since he was real little watchin the very last pies leave on their boats and their ships and their magical space comets goin back to their mysterious mystical land of pie and the old man  always thought he'd never live to see the pies come back even though he is a thousand or ten thousand or a billion years old and a single lonely tear rolls down his ancient wooden face even though his tear ducts have not worked since the signing of the Magna Carta (stupid Magna Carta) and are currently used as homes for a variety of small woodland creatures because he believes... he believes in pie.And the pie is closer than ever now and we are believing in it harder than ever, believing in its power to be delicious and toothsome and just, to heal the sick and fix the lame and grow the short and shorten the tall and restore liquidity to the credit markets and make the world a kinder and gentler and better place where oh wait it's not a pie at all, it is an enraged bull walrus, how embarrassing! Dozens are mauled by its terrible, terrible tusks.  When it is over the survivors will limp away to their homes and their hospitals and their orphanages to cry their sad pieless tears and dream of a better, more pielike day to come. They gaze out of their windows at the faraway clouds, hoping of pies and thinking of pies and whittling little pie shapes out of their old crutches. But they know, deep down inside, that one day the pie will come. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after tomorrow, or the week after that, but when it comes they will be there. It will probably be another walrus.
posted by fafnir at 7:48 PM
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
 As of last night, Barack Obama has now become for the first time in American history the very first African-American to be elected Jesus. Now everything will be better forever HOORAAAAAAY! Except if you're gay. Labels: fuck you '08
posted by fafnir at 1:22 PM
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Well it's sure been a whirlwind two-and-a-half years, but election day's already here! Before Campaign '08 finally wraps up let's stop and take a last look at the swing states we'll be hearin about all night long.
 IRAQPopulation: 29 million Big issues: gas prices, the economy, explosion reform Major swing demographics: Joe the insurgent, Joe the government-employed death squad member, Joe the sad bandaged child with one remaining limb Electoral votes: 0 Leaning? maybe Nader AFGHANISTAN Population: 31 million Big issues: the environment (curious rain of missiles and bullets, possibly linked to human activity) Major swing demographics: poppy farmers, wedding survivors, Reagan Taliban Electoral votes: 0 Leaning? might write in Ron Paul GAZA STRIP Population: 1.5 million Big issues: housing shortage, bulldozer/tank surplus Major swing demographics: refugee moms, internment camp dads Electoral votes: 0 Leaning? heard some good things about the Green Party  MALAWIPopulation: 14 million Big issues: food crisis, health crisis, general state of crisis Major swing demographics: people with water, people with food, seniors (30 and up) Electoral votes: 0 Leaning? probably just gonna stay home again EARTH Population: five million trillion trillion, give or take Big issues: human-induced climate change, human-induced mass extinction, destroying all humans Major swing demographics: bacteria, tree sloths, things that destroy humans Electoral votes: 0 Leaning? usually goes with Leviathan, beast of beasts and slayer of men, but red tide algae might tip it to McCain this year Labels: fuck you '08, running the world
posted by fafnir at 2:59 PM
Monday, November 3, 2008
"Maybe global warming won't be so bad after all," says me. "Like maybe Bangladesh'll like bein underwater. If you think about it havin your country flooded is kinda like spendin every day at the beach!"
"Maybe it's a glass-half-full kinda thing," says Giblets. "Like scientists are always going on about how lots of people are gonna die from famine and disease. But you know what you never hear them talk about? How most of those people are complete strangers who probably suck." "Maybe we'll just haveta make a coupla lifestyle adjustments," says me. "In the wintertime, put on an extra sweater. In the summer, take off your skin and breathe through a spare atmosphere." "All we really need is some kind of simple technological solution," says Giblets, "like a garbage-powered weather machine or a synthetic source of God." "See, that's a great idea!" says me. "You should get to work on that." "Nah, Giblets is more of an 'idea man'," says Giblets pourin a tall frosty mug a coal. "Now that the concept's out there Giblets figures someone else'll work out the details." "What an exciting time for science!" says me. Labels: our world and how to kill it
posted by fafnir at 6:29 PM
Sunday, November 2, 2008
FAFBLOG: First of all I want to say thank you, John McCain, for choosing to give your last major interview before the election right here on our little blog!
JOHN MCCAIN: Thank you, my friends. The honor is all mine. FB: Now let's get right down to it. Why should you be president? MCCAIN: One word, my friends: leadership. As a Navy pilot I was shot down over Vietnam, as a member of the United States Senate I was beaten by my captors for five and a half years, and as your president I will continue to courageously endure those beatings for America. FB: Well you make a pretty convincing case, John McCain, but why shouldn't I vote for a president who has even more experience being tortured, like Congressman Sheikh Mohammed or Senator Jesus or that guy who gets his head exploded at the beginning of Scanners? MCCAIN: Because I know the problems Americans are going through right now. The American people are angry, my friends. They're hurt. They've been beaten by their captors for five and a half years. And they need a leader who's willing to stop federal tax dollars from going to research harbor seal DNA. FB: We might lose our jobs and we might lose our homes and we might have to sell our youngest, weakest children to black market organ scavengers for a cardboard box and a can of refried beans, but we'll always be safe in the knowledge that our taxes aren't going to further our understanding of marine biology. MCCAIN: Oh, and that's just the tip of the iceberg, my friends. Do you realize that federal earmarks last year directed literally thousands of your tax dollars to children's hospitals? Think about that now! Hospitals! For children! FB: Now look John McCain, everybody wants to shut down children's hospitals, but how're you really gonna do it what with all the Washington gridlock and the Beltway infighting and the fatcat lobbyists from Big Children? I mean Ronald Reagan promised us he'd destroy the government and twenty years later we're still stuck with a functioning public sewage system. MCCAIN: Look, my friends, I can do this. I know how to balance budgets. I know how to win wars. I've been pretending to do it for thirty-five years. And I know how to work across party lines to get things done. Has Barack Obama ever had a sweaty late-night three-way with Joe Lieberman and Trent Lott on the floor of the Senate cloakroom? Or was he too busy raising taxes for his friends in the radical African terrorist community to reach across the aisle? FB: That's just the kind of mavericky bipartisan maverickness you used to pass sweeping reforms like the Candyland Preservation Act and McCain-Snuffleupagus! So how much will I personally save once you've gotten rid of all these earmarks? MCCAIN: Literally thousands of thousandths of some fraction of a penny. But look, my friends: it's not about the money. It's about the principle. And the principle is that it's wrong, just wrong, to take money from the American taxpayer and spend it on something, unless that something is a series of massive, ever-expanding foreign wars. FB: That's so true. It just burns me up inside when I think about how every dollar we're just throwing away on medicine for poor people could be spent on something truly valuable, like a hundred year war in Iraq. MCCAIN: Now, now I want to be clear on something. I hate war, my friends. I hate war almost as much as I hate vigorously masturbating to it. But this war in Iraq is a necessary war. An honorable war. A war that's been beaten by its captors for five and a half years. And without it Saddam Hussein would be free even now to fly pretend airplanes into our fictional buildings with weapons of mass imagination. FB: None of us will ever forget that day - that terrible, hypothetical day. MCCAIN: And right now in Iraq we have a, a wonderful general there, General Petraeus. He's very courageous. He is very broad-shouldered. He was beaten by his captors for five and a half years. And when you get close to him, very close, there is the distinct aroma of fresh-baked pie. And, and the first thing we have to do is let General Petraeus finish the job of securing Iraq for the Iraqi people, a proud and united people, so that it doesn't fall into the hands of their enemies, the Iraqi people. FB: Well that sounds good, John McCain, but how do we really get the Iraqis to stand up for themselves against the Iraqis? MCCAIN: Oh, we already have, by arming the Iraqis to fight back against the Iraqis and make sure they can live in peace without fear of Iraqis. But if we don't stay and finish the job Iraq will fall to Iraqi influence, and we cannot allow that, my friends. FB: See I used to be all confused about all this, but it just makes so much sense when I hear it from you! Now between half a million and a million Iraqis have been killed since the start of the war, in a country of twenty-nine million Iraqis. Do you feel kinda glass-half-full about it, like "hey look at all the Iraqis we got left!" Or is it kinda glass-half-empty, like "oh man, look at all the Iraqis we got left!" MCCAIN: Oh, no, no. With time I believe we can eliminate the threat of Iraq within Iraq. The first thing we have to do in order to win is to win, which I believe we can accomplish through means of winning. And the second thing we have to do is cut taxes and pork-barrel spending. Let's not tax these dead Iraqis, my friends. Let's kill them again so they don't have to pay three million dollars for a planetarium in Chicago. FB: Well I'm almost sold, John McCain, but Barack Obama says he's gonna make war cool again in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Why shouldn't I vote for him? MCCAIN: Because I know war, my friends. I've lived with war. Slept with war. Fondled war. Has Barack Obama ever made sweet love to the outer casing of an intercontinental ballistic missile? Or was he too busy teaching kindergartners how to have sex with federal earmarks to show his support for our troops? FB: Now there's some crazy people who say we should negotiate with other countries like Iran and Venezuela before we bomb them. Are these crazy people crazy? MCCAIN: Absolutely. We cannot dignify these countries by meeting with them, because if we meet with them we give the world the impression that we are willing to meet with them, and that just makes our country look like the kind of country that meets with other countries. And where does that lead, my friends? FB: Disaster, that's where! What if you're meetin with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, an you go to shake Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's hand, an then he moves his hand up and goes "Up high!" and so you go to give him a high five but then he kinda swooshes his hand down an goes "Down low!" an so you go to catch his hand there but he moves his hand outta the way an goes "Too slow!" an then all the guys on the Security Council think he's cooler'n you! Man, you'd feel pretty stupid then. MCCAIN: That's why talking to people is only justified as the option of last resort, after all killing-based alternatives have been exhausted. FB: Okay John McCain, now it's time to play Bomb or Tax Cut! Get your buzzer ready! MCCAIN: Okay, heh heh, here we go! FB: Iran! MCCAIN: Bomb. FB: Russia! MCCAIN: Bomb. FB: Global warming! MCCAIN: Bomb. FB: Guantanamo Bay! MCCAIN: Tax cut. FB: Health care! MCCAIN: Bomb. No, no, tax cut, tax cut! FB: Nuclear proliferation! MCCAIN: Bomb and tax cut! FB: The increasing irrelevance of the human soul in the face of global capitalism! MCCAIN: Tax cuts for bombs! FB: Now, we've got time for one last question. Any thoughts about Tuesday night? MCCAIN: Bomb, bomb, bomb! FB: No no, that parts over now! Different question! MCCAIN: Oh, heh heh, I'm not too worried about election night. The polls are, are, they're tightening. FB: I believe some of them certainly could be generously interpreted to that effect, yes! MCCAIN: And in fact, heh, we're, we're going to win. FB: Oh, ha ha, I'm sure you will! Keep thinking positive, John McCain! MCCAIN: It will be a victorious landslide. FB: Now that might be just a tad overconfident - MCCAIN: We will fight this. Fight this to the gates of hell. FB: Now rural Pennsylvania isn't the most exciting place in the world, but I don't know if I'd call it - MCCAIN: And I will rescue America and, and take her for my demon bride. FB: We really gotta go, John McCain. MCCAIN: We shall reign for ten thousand years. Labels: fuck you '08, interviews, the end of the world party
posted by fafnir at 10:37 AM
Friday, October 31, 2008
Labels: haunted blog
posted by fafnir at 1:22 PM
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
This is pretty much like the last post, only you have to read it in the Received Pronunciation.
posted by fafnir at 4:32 PM
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
So ever since this election switched from practical bread-and-butter issues like how much Democrats are going to tax Jesus to fund their gay-married abortion babies to fluff like "the economy" and "the recession" and "the apocalyptic collapse of global capitalism" it looks like everybody's gonna vote for Barack Obama. Well good for you, see if Giblets cares, Giblets doesn't care about the stupid ol' presidency anyway. But before you go and throw your vote away just ask yourself: who is Barack Obama? "Oh well Giblets Barack Obama is the junior senator from Illinois who is running for president on some moderate health care and tax reform plans and a foreign policy which is actually very similar to John McCain's," you say because you are irritating and stupid and I hate you. Yes yes but who is Barack Obama, really? "Well he was born in Hawaii to Ann Dunham and Barack Obama, Sr. and spent part of his childhood in Indonesia and was a community organizer and a law professor before running for the Illinois state senate." Okay okay but who is Barack Obama, really, while I am playing scary music and flashing this terrifyingly desaturated image of Barack Obama in a turban across your television screen? "Oh my god I have no idea, who is this mysteriously radical mystery radical!" Giblets is glad you asked!
FACT! Barack Obama and sixties radical Bill Ayers were both associated with the Chicago Annenberg Challenge, a radical education foundation whose radical goal is to radically educate black children by educating them... while they are still black. FACT! Barack Obama spent twenty years in the same church as radically black pastor Jeremiah Wright, who has been known to make such incendiary claims as "white people enslaved black people" and "white people killed Native Americans." Is Barack Obama part of the international black conspiracy to trick white people into thinking about racism? Answer: maybe. FACT! Barack Obama has been friends with Rashid Khalidi, an openly Arab Arab who is so Arab he writes about other Arabs. Is Barack Obama part of the international Arab conspiracy to trick white people into thinking about Arabs? Answer: also maybe. FACT! Barack Obama talks about his white mother and his white grandparents and the white half of his family that is white, but did you know that half of his family is also black? In fact, half his family is so black that Obama keeps them hidden away on a whole other continent where they speak in a strange, otherworldly code which is not even English. What is Obama trying to hide? Possibly something black. BONUS FACT! Barack Obama may be half-white and half-black, but he married a woman who is completely black. In a way, doesn't that make him three-quarters black? Math doesn't lie, people! FACT! "Obama" is an ancient Muslim name meaning "He Who Deceives the White Man with his Telegenic Charisma, Angular Good Looks, and Deceptively Conservative Policy Proposals." Coincidence? Or co-bama? FACT! The previous fact was made up. But doesn't the fact that it was so easily made up prove that a kernel of truth must exist within the lie, and doesn't the existence of that kernel of truth prove that the lie is, in fact, true? Think about it! But not very hard! FACT! Barack Obama was a community organizer. ACORN is made of community organizers. Acorns come from oak trees. Oak trees belong to the genus Quercus, which includes Quercus faginea, the Portuguese oak. The prime minister of Portugal is José Sócrates, whose last name looks like Socrates, who lived in Athens, which is also a city in Georgia, whose state fruit is the peach, which is native to China, which is exactly what Osama bin Laden was eating off of while he was plotting to destroy the Twin Towers. It's all connected, people - they just don't want you to know! And they could be black. Labels: fuck you '08, what will become of whitey?
posted by Giblets at 12:09 PM
Saturday, October 11, 2008
posted by fafnir at 12:44 PM
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
"Maybe the glaciers aren't melting at all," says me. "Maybe it's just a coupla fat guys who keep tryin to go ice skatin at the same time."
"Maybe it's like that episode of the Twilight Zone where everybody thinks it's getting hotter but it's all a dream and outside the dream it's really getting colder!" says Giblets. "Boy, would we feel stupid then!" "Maybe God parked the earth out in the sunny part a the parking lot an once he gets back from the store an turns up the AC it'll all be back to normal," says me. "Sir, I find your ideas compelling and would like to give you a grant from the Exxon-Mobil Foundation," says Giblets. "What an exciting time for science!" says me. Labels: our world and how to kill it
posted by fafnir at 3:25 PM
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for your
listening pleasure 
High Places 03/07 - 09/07 
Beck Modern Guilt 
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Dig, Lazarus, Dig! 
Ponytail Ice Cream Spiritual
for your
viewing enjoyment
for your
reading edification 
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