"How will you raise the kids?"

Mrs. Ego and I have certainly had our share of stupid arguments. Perhaps more than our share. But nothing to match the stupidity of this:

COMMERCE CITY, Colo. -- A couple fighting about which gang their 4-year-old toddler should join caused a public disturbance that resulted in the father's arrest, Commerce City police said Thursday.

On Saturday, Joseph Manzanares stormed into the Hollywood Video store where his girlfriend worked, threatened to kill her and knocked over several video displays and even a computer, Commerce City police Sgt. Joe Sandoval said.

. . .

His girlfriend told police that they had been arguing about the upbringing of their son and which gang he should belong to. The teen mother, who is black, is a member of the Crips. Manzanares is Hispanic and belongs to the Westside Ballers gang, the woman said.

A picture speaks a thousand snarky words.

From this NY Times article. Via Chaos Digest.

We have met the white people, and they are us.

As a public service, I pass this along to my non-unfoggetarian readers.

If it ain't brokered . . .

After helping the Republicans decide that John McCain would likely be their candidate, Super Tuesday was all tuckered out and retreated to its Fortress of Solitude, leaving unfinished the task of selecting a Democratic nominee. With things still up in the air, there is talk of the Democrats going old school and actually choosing a candidate at the convention! How exciting is that! After years of getting by with political methadone, political junkies might finally get a taste of the real thing!

Will there be smoke-filled rooms? Yes, but this is not your grandfather's Democratic Party, so things will be different. Instead of smoke from five-cent cigars, these rooms will be filled with environmentally-friendly, carbon-neutral eco-smoke, made by burning recycled hemp fibers over flames of hope fueled by the dreams of an all-inclusive multicultural America! After the convention, the smoke will be sequestered deep underground, where the immense weight of the earth's crust will compress it into diamonds!

All this convention talk brings back fond memories of my first convention. It was 1984. Walter Koenig was there, and they showed a reel of Star Trek bloopers. Lots of guys were dressed in costumes, and at one of the vendor's tables I found a long-sought-after copy of Champion of Garathorm, the missing volume I needed to complete my set of the second Hawkmoon trilogy! Could the 2008 Democratic Convention possibly be as exciting as that one? Maybe, but my first time will always hold a special place in my heart.

It's a bird! It's a plane!

It’s Super Tuesday!

Yes, it’s here! That special day that comes only once every four years, when mild-mannered Tuesday dashes into a phone booth, removes its glasses, rips off its drab office attire and emerges in a red-and-blue spandex bodysuit, boots, and a cape! How it managed to fit those fabulous red boots inside its black leather shoes is a mystery that can be explained only by Super Tuesday’s overwhelming superness! And the fact that no one ever comes across Super Tuesday’s discarded suit in an empty phone booth and steals its wallet? Prevented by the superness!

Yes, Super Tuesday fights for us! It fights for truth, justice, and the American way of arbitrarily giving voters in some states and not others a crucial role in choosing the next leader of the free world! And this year it’s more super than ever! With better special effects!

Look out, Super Tuesday! There’s kryptonite in that voting machine! How will you save us???

Ow! Redux

You know that scene in the movie where the guy is walking along and he slips on a patch of ice, and his whole body goes up in the air for an instant before he lands flat on his back, and then he just lies there with a half-pained, half-stunned "what just happened?" expression on his face, and he remains completely motionless for about ten seconds before beginning to slowly and cautiously pick himself up?

That's exactly the way it happens in real life.

Space belongs to us.

"Hope" for the future!

Our extra-terrestrial brethren "run faster . . . and are much more energetic and resilient"!!!

You humans can have the earth; space now belongs to us. The future is ours!

Referrer Log Crime Drama

A recent visitor to this site arrived via this Google search.

I hope that visitor wasn't the same person who came here via this search.

Whoever it is, it looks like they're planning for contingencies.

Sweet Memories

Remember that time we went down to Florida? And we stole an airboat and headed off into the Everglades? And we saw Barack Obama there, walking on the water, whistling the theme from "Superman: The Movie" to himself, and we asked him "Barack! What are you doing here all by yourself in the Everglades?" and he said "I'm whistling," and I said, "Damn, Barack, you sure can whistle!" and he said, "Thanks, MAE," only he didn't call me MAE, he called me by that special secret nickname that only he calls me by, and then he went on whistling, and then a crocodile jumped out of the water and tried to eat him, but it only managed to bite off one foot, and Barack Obama acted like he didn't even notice, and he went right on hopping across the water, still whistling, without missing a note, hopping one-legged into the rain? That sure was a swell trip, wasn't it?

And Good Riddance.

2007 is nearly over, and I will not mourn its passing. It's not that 2007 was a really bad year, for it had its share of good moments and positive developments, but it had more than it's share of bitterness as well. All in all it was one of those "that which does not kill me makes me stronger" kind of years. Not so terrible in the grand scheme of things, but I'm thankful I'll never have to relive it.

Here's to 2008.