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Friday, December 4, 2009
 There was supposed to be a pie here, a flaky fresh-baked apple pie, but it's not here, and if it's not here then it's gone, and if it's gone then somebody took it, and if somebody took it then it's stolen - stolen by a walrus.Oh you know all about walruses, all about them and their thieving walrus ways. You bet that walrus is having a grand old time right now with all its walrus buddies - telling its walrus jokes, sipping its walrus brandy, laughing a cruel walrus laugh at your expense. Well you won't let it get away with it. You're gonna get even with that walrus. Your friends don't really understand all the walrus traps and the walrus bait and the sacrificial offerings to Uotichtlan, ancient Aztec Lord of the Sun-Walrus, but that's just 'cause they never been there, never had their hearts broken by a walrus's lies, never lost the family farm to the walruses down at the bank, never had to leave three good men to die in a war zone 'cause the walruses jumped 'em in the middle of the night. Or maybe they're just in on it. In on it with the walrus. Now you've got Craig and Mike and Laurel and Turtlefoot Henson all locked up in the back of the bottom of the basement and they're all goin "hey man we don't know what you're talkin about, we don't know any walrus" which is exactly what you'd expect them to say if they were working for the walrus and you know you got em now and you know you got that walrus now and all you got to do now is wait, wait right here by the door with your walrus gun all ready for that walrus to show, and that's when you'll show 'im. That's when you'll show that walrus. Labels: walrus
posted by fafnir at 8:53 AM
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
"You think there's life on other planets?" says me.
"Nah, Giblets checked already," says Giblets. "Are you sure?" says me. "Maybe you missed a spot." "Sure I'm sure," says Giblets. "Here, lemme show you. Hey! Hey you! You up there! Hey! Hey you! You! Hey! Hey you!" We wait around a while. "See?" says Giblets. "Nothin." "Maybe they're just a little shy," says me. "Nuts to your shy!" says Giblets. "If they were really out there in space with their space-cars and their space-guns and their metal-bikini-wearing space-babes they would totally come over here to show off all their space-stuff and make us feel like losers! That's just science!" "Well you can't argue with science," says me. "No you can't," says Giblets. "Well maybe they dropped by some time when we were out at the store and they rang the doorbell and hung around and were all like 'Oh well let's just leave a crop circle on the doorknob'," says me. "You talk crazy talk!" says Giblets. "The first thing they'd do is look for the key under the moon and break into the earth and steal all our best oceans and continents!" "Well maybe they didn't want our stuff," says me. "Maybe they already have a Greenland, or maybe the Pacific was the wrong color." "Well at the very least they would've eaten us," says Giblets. "Just look at us, all marbled with succulent fat and dripping with tasty earth juices!" "Maybe they're vegans," says me. "Or maybe we taste all weird an gamey." "Well what's the point of being bigger than someone else if you're not gonna kill them or take their stuff!" says Giblets. "Maybe they're not bigger," says me. "Maybe they're just things like birds and bugs and fish and us." "Well that's just stupid and boring and stupid and lame and Giblets is going home!" says Giblets. I wait around a while. A little after sunset a big bright saucer lands in the park and a thing comes out. "Kthp gn unngko?" it says. "Nah, it's the next one over," says me. "Klbbyp nom," it says and flies away. "Stupid birds," says me. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 10:26 AM
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Let us never forget just what's at stake in the war in Afghanistan: nothing less than the success of the war in Afghanistan. This war may be a mistake, a blood-soaked blunder, an unholy charnel house mindlessly consuming the bodies and souls of untold thousands, an open sore on the pockmarked face of history and an abomination before the sight of God and men, but it is first and foremost a war, and wars must be won. If the United States doesn't win this war, then will it not lose it? And if the United States loses this war, then won't the Unites States have lost it? And if the United States has lost this war, will that not then make the United States a kind of thing that loses wars? And then where would we be?
And just as America can't afford to abandon this war, surely it can't afford to abandon the Afghan people, who without the American military would be left to the savage whims of their hated enemy, the Afghan people. Indeed, it remains America's solemn duty as the leader of the free world to bring freedom and security to the Afghan people by hunting down and eliminating the Afghan people. Nor can America forget its own national security, and the dire threat posed by the Afghan people to our war against the Afghan people. But we must also remember that the Afghans, menaced even though they are by the evil of the Afghans, are not blameless here. Have they sufficiently appreciated our efforts to kill them? No, they have not. Have they effectively and efficiently rebuilt their nation whenever we've had cause to blow it up? No, they have not. Have they become full and effective participants in the ongoing mission to kill them? No, they have not. It is long past time for the people of Afghanistan to step up their efforts to kill themselves, and not merely rely on American generosity to finish the job for them. And so the President will be sending additional troops to Afghanistan - but a precise number of troops, carefully determined by the nation's top warologists after long months of carpet-bombing villages of laboratory mice - and they will kill Afghans there, but only for a precise period of time, calculated to be the exact interval necessary to protect our freedoms, or restore our security, or for all of us to grow bored and forget. Labels: everybody loves a winner, hope change and cluster bombs, running the world, warnography
posted by the Medium Lobster at 9:49 AM
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and four of his friends are going to stand trial! It's taken about six and a half years for this to happen, during which they were all presumably kept waiting in the parlor of a sumptuous mansion along with the Colonel, the Countess, the jewel thief, the butler and the maid while a brilliant but eccentric sleuth attempted to discern the identity of the true culprit through the use of the deductive method, the thorough examination of evidence, and simulated drowning.
Everybody else has to stay in Special Torture Jail forever on accounta they have all come down with Schrodinger's Guilt. If they stay in the box they might be guilty, but if we open the box they might not be. Labels: securitainment, shmorture, warnography
posted by fafnir at 9:54 AM
Friday, November 13, 2009
Had Nidal Malik Hasan been launched from a remotely-piloted Predator drone into a Pakistani funeral procession, it would have been a bold victory in the War on Terror; had the major been dropped onto a village in Waziristan or fired into an Afghan wedding party, it would have represented an efficient and effective display of tactical military superiority; had he exploded in a shower of cluster bomblets over a Gaza refugee camp or been dispersed in a cloud of corrosive gas through an Iraqi city, we could all celebrate this triumph of American technical ingenuity over the forces of barbarism. Instead, Major Hasan will be tragically remembered as a piece of prematurely detonated ordnance, accidentally claiming the lives of people rather than those of numbers.
Modern metaphysics teaches us that the human soul, curiously enough, exists only within the arbitrarily-defined borders of certain political entities. South of the 49th parallel, north of the Rio Grande, west of the Urals, north of the Mediterranean - these, we can be sure, are the domains of real people, capable of self-awareness and the perception of pain. The hordes beyond, however - science tells us nothing of them, and that's probably for the best. Thousands of Afghans have been killed to date, and thousands more may be killed before we tire of killing them. But who's counting? Labels: warnography
posted by the Medium Lobster at 8:34 AM
Monday, November 2, 2009
Well the bridge is out and the road is closed and the cops're after us and the feds're after the cops and the bagman got run over by the driver and the driver got eaten by the bear and nobody's sure who put the bear in charge anyway, you never put the bear in charge, it has terrible interpersonal skills, and the case in the back a the trunk a the car containing the canvas of Ernst's L'Ange du Foyer has been accidentally replaced with an eighty-five-hundred pound bull rhinoceros enraged by our continuing encroachment upon its natural habitat and I thought we were goin to a pub quiz tonight but I guess the plans kinda changed and it'd probably be rude to bring it up at this point but I'm not real sure how I got here in the first place, and when you think about it you really have to go all the way back to school, and mom thought I should be a doctor and dad thought I should be an industrial wood lathe and I wanted to be the Cenozoic Era and we tried to work out a compromise but lookin back it was really the kinda situation where nobody was gonna end up really satisfied in the end and they say you should never look back but it's hard not to when you're bein chased by a rhinoceros and I'm sure there's a valuable life lesson here somewhere but I think it got eaten by the bear, and when this is over and the fire's put out and the cops're asleep in their cave under the sea we'll always have tomorrow, or the day after the day after the day after that.
Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 6:40 PM
Saturday, October 31, 2009
What are you doing sitting there! It's Halloween! Run out into the woods and go to Devil-Church! Labels: jollity
posted by fafnir at 3:18 PM
Friday, October 9, 2009
Obama Wins 2009 Nobel Peace Prize
At Least 80 Killed as US Drones Attack South Waziristan Funeral Procession In other news, the Nobel Prize for Literature was awarded to a man who set fire to a library and then promised to write a book about it. Labels: hope change and cluster bombs, reductio creep, running the world, warnography
posted by the Medium Lobster at 9:46 AM
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Q: Is Iran a threat?
A: Oh yes. Even as we speak Iran is potentially starting the beginnings of a very possibly quite almost-real hypothetically nuclear weapons program! Q: Oh no! How many nuclear weapons does Iran already have? A: Counting warheads, ICBMs, mid- and long-range missiles, ABMs, tactical nukes, bunker-busters and submarine-based weaponry, the full nuclear arsenal of Iran at this moment is very rapidly just beginning to quite possibly approach a number just short of one! Q: That makes them almost as deadly as the rogue nation of Whoville or the Islamic Republic of Candyland! A: And they could be just months away from an actual bomb! Q: But they've been just months away from a bomb for years now. A: I know! Which means in terror years, Iran already has a bomb... in your child's precious brain! Q: But that's where she keeps her sugarplum dreams! A: That's why it's up to us to already have being stopped them! Q: What will Iran do with nuclear weapons? A: Terrible things. For a start, it will have them. Q: Oh no! A: And once it has them, it can threaten to use them, if anyone else tries to use them on them. Q: There would be no defense against their self-defense. A: They pose an existential threat to our ability to existentially threaten them. Q: Is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad a threat? A: Oh, very much so. In fact, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is a Madman. Q: We know he is a madman because he hates us, and we know that he hates us because he says bad things about us, and the only reason he would say bad things about us is if he were mad! A: We also know that he has threatened - with his own mouth - to "wipe Israel off the face of the map"! Q: Really? A: Yes! Q: Really? A: No. But only a madman would say something that could be so easily mistranslated to sound like the words of a madman. Q: Does Mahmoud Ahmadinejad actually run Iran? A: No. But wouldn't it be scary if he did? Q: Oooh, yes! And wouldn't it be scary if he were ten feet tall and breathed fire and ate the bones of men? A: And wouldn't it be scary if he were in your house right now? Q: Ohmigod I'd be so scared! Oooh that scary beard, oooh those beady eyes! A: He's comin' to get you! He's in your closet an' he's comin' to get you right now! Q: What should we do with Iran? A. All options are on the table. Q: Should we bomb them? Is bombing them on the table? A: Bombing them must be on the table, because it is an option, and all options are on the table. Q: What about starving them to death with sanctions? Is starving them to death with sanctions on the table? A: In that an option? Because if it is an option, then it must be, as we have mentioned before, on the table. Q: What about bombing their cities and burning their children and raping their livestock and feeding their people to thousands of millions of man-eating ants and piling their skulls into a heaping bonfire on the White House lawn while the President and the Cabinet and the Joint Chiefs of Staff dance naked in circles ejaculating wildly into the flesh-filled smoke? Is that on the table? A: It would be irresponsible for this option not to be on the table, given that all other options, as we have said, are on the table. Q: What about leaving Iran alone? Is that on the table? A: No. That is not on the table, because it is not an option. Q: Are you sure? It looks like an option. A: It may look like an option, but in fact it is the East Tunisian mock option, which over the course of many years has evolved to mimic the distinctive coloring and plumage of the true American option, in order to better evade and intimidate predators. Q: If Mahmoud Ahmadinejad drops a penny off the top of the Empire State Building, will it kill whoever it hits on the ground below? Q: If Mahmoud Ahmadinejad drops a nickel, will he kill five people? If he drops a quarter, will he reestablish the Caliphate? Q: Is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad even now amassing an arsenal of spare change deep within the unsuspecting bowels of New York City, roaming from corner to corner, subway to subway, armed with a stockpile of acoustic guitars, violins, steel drums, rudimentary juggling skills, waiting and watching for the perfect moment to strike? Q: If we say Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's name three times, will the Hidden Imam pop out of our warblog and kill us with his hook hand? Q: Is the Taliban a threat? A: Of course. The Taliban is an ongoing threat to our ongoing mission to eliminate the Taliban. Q: And if we fail to eliminate the Taliban? A: We cannot fail to eliminate the Taliban, as long as the Taliban continues to provide safe havens and training grounds for the Taliban. Q: And the Taliban, of course, offers aid and comfort to the ever-dangerous Taliban. A: Such is the deadly circle of terror. Q: Is Belgium a threat? Q: Is Afghanistan a threat? A: Of course not! We are not at war with the proud and freedom-loving people of Afghanistan. We simply happen to be killing the proud and freedom-loving people of Afghanistan on a regular basis. Q: But we deeply regret killing them, each and every time we kill them. A: And each and every time we plan to kill them, and each and every time we're in the middle of killing them, and each and every time we plan to kill them again. Q: And every time we go to kill them, we of course take every possible precaution we can possible take to avoid killing them, except of course for not actually killing them. A: In a way, you could say that by killing them so conscientiously, we are actually doing them a favor. Q: In a way, you could say that our killing them is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for them. A: In a way, you could say we have a moral responsibility to keep killing them, because if we ever stopped, who knows who might kill them then? Q: They might be killed by other, non-us people! Or even by nobody at all! A: And then where would they be! Q: At the mercy of the Belgian threat. Q: Could we one day live in a world without threats? A: No, no - we're not ready for that. It's far too threatening. Q: We need our threats. They're part of our way of life. A: But there are those who would take away our threats. Q: Because they hate our way of life. A: And they are the greatest threat of all. Q: Are they in China? Is China a threat? Labels: q and a, running the world, warnography
posted by fafnir at 2:25 PM
Monday, September 14, 2009
"Once upon a time there was a fafnir and a giblets, and their names were Fafnir and Giblets," says me.
"Giblets can't relate to these characters," says Giblets. "Who do they come from and where are they going and what are their hopes and their dreams and their dark and buried pasts? Giblets demands backstory!" "And they were pirates and spacemen and industrial chemical mixers who sailed the sea and tilled the land to get the girl and win the big game and ride the road of truth and self-discovery and a course the American Dream," says me. "Giblets does not believe in this story," says Giblets. "Where is the dirt and the dust and the gritty grainy gunk of the everyday? Giblets demands verisimilitude!" "And they dragged their straw-thatched huts and their earthenware mules and remembered the sweet-smelling spices and the warm baked bread of Grandma Stolchi's industrial meat-packing plant," says me. "Giblets is uninspired," says Giblets. "Where is the greatness and the grandeur and the daring doing of deedly deeds? Giblets demands a sense of the epic!" "And the mountains crunched and the thunder groaned and the wind and the war and the singing of songs and the angry angry sea," says me. "Giblets is detached," says Giblets. "Where is the warmth of the heart of the fiery fires of the human experience? Giblets demands more feeling!" "And though their love was deep and fierce and right and true it was doomed from the start," says me, "for she was only a lowly scullery maid, and he had been trampled to death by elephants." "Giblets is confused," says Giblets. "Where is this going and what does it mean and how does it contribute to the advancement of the art of American letters? Giblets demands a theory of storytime!" "And they all lived happily ever after," says me, "except for the ones who were squashed or exploded or eaten by bees." "Tell me another one," says Giblets. Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 8:01 AM
Friday, September 4, 2009
On the bright side, though, the Mayan zombie gods should wipe us all out in just a couple years. Labels: doomed doomed doomed, real america, what will become of whitey?
posted by fafnir at 8:30 PM
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
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for your
listening pleasure 
Dirty Projectors Bitte Orca 
Dan Deacon Bromst 
The Very Best Warm Heart of Africa 
Flashy Python Skin and Bones 
Candy Claws In the Dream of the Sea Life 
Odd Nosdam T.I.M.E. Soundtrack
for your
reading edification 
Glacial Period 
Low Moon 
The Rabbi's Cat 2 
Uncle Gabby 
Nazi Literature in the Americas 
The Book of Imaginary Beings 
The World Without Us 
Human Smoke 
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