There's One, Only!

The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Julia Ward Howe
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps
l can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His day is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish`d rows of steel,
"As ye deal with my contemners, So with you my grace shall deal;"
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

The Gettysburg Address

I think that this is one of the greatest speaches that sums up what Memorial Day means to me. I speaks of what they died for, and more importantly how great their sacrifice was and how we can't add to or detract from that act. Unless we make it so they died in vain.

The Gettysburg Address

Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation: conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war. . .testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated. . . can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war.

We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate. . .we cannot consecrate. . . we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . . and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth.

-Abraham Lincoln

Flander's Field

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae 1872 - 1918

Memorial Day

Please go over to Boots And Sabers and read this post.

And also please read this at Castle Argghhh!

People like Marine Cpl. Jason L. Dunham and 2Lt Leonard Cowherd are the reason why we have Memorial Day.

Yes, it is heavy.

Thanks to Harvey's complaining, I felt compelled to throw my own keys into the ring. (ouch)

A few tidbits about my keys,

I always wear my keys on the leftmost belt loop of my pants. Except when in church, then they go in my pocket.

Yes it does pull my pants down on that side. That's why I always wear a belt.

There are 23 keys, a flashlight, one broken key stub and a quarter on the ring. They are for both personal and business use.

I use every key on there. Except for the one for a padlock I know for a fact was stolen, and the two little ones I can't remember where to use. And the Hutchin's card doesn't work 'cause they were bought out by CarQuest.

The quarter is one I found in the cash drawer with a hole already drilled in it. I keep it, so I'll never be broke. (You know, 25 cents isn't enough to use a pay-phone anymore?)

It's the third carabiner clip that I've had. I broke the latch part on the previous two.

The only key I have that I don't have on this ring is to my motorcycle. (I think that if I used this ring, the bike would tip over.)

Update:I just tested the flashlight, and it's broken. Oh well, I guess that saves me .4 ounces.

Warning: Dirty Pictures

Just for Harvey, I have some dirty pictures in the extended entry.

This is what happens when you try to drop off a washing machine without taking into account the 4" of rain that fell the previous three days.

So without further ado, here is what my blogless father and I had to get the truck out of. Fortunately, my Jeep (sorry no picture) was a usefull asset.

"What was I thinking?

At the end, my blogless father surveys his new corduroy back yard.

PGH: Stupid Poll Questions

I groggily stumped down the stairs to the pounding at my door. It was 2:00 in the morning and I was just getting to sleep after getting home an hour before. Sometimes, being on the closing shift stunk. As I fumbled with the lock, I couldn’t seem to get my eyes open. And then as the streetlight stabbed my retinas, I realized that my eyes had been open. The light was out in the stairwell again.

Blinking away the tears that the streetlight was causing, I tried to make out who was pounding on my door. Gradually, I was able to make out a ridiculous looking guy in a brass-buttoned, red jacket with a silly, red cap. Huh

I just stood there staring at him. Eventually, he seemed to get a little nervous and finally spoke, “Mr. GEBIV, I presume?”

I wasn’t the happiest person in the world at that moment, so my reply was a little terse. “Yes. What do you want, Stanley.”

The reference went right over his head. He immediately pulled a yellow piece of paper and a pitch-pipe from his pockets. Just then, the horror of it dawned on me… a singing telegram.

“Agent GEBIV,
Your mission,
Should you choose to accept it,
Is to
Discover what
Stupid poll questions
CNN will be putting up
On their web site.

This message will
Self-destruct
In 10 seconds.”

I snatched the paper from his hand and threw it one way while shoving him off of the porch in the other direction. “Run!” I yelled to him as I took cover behind the patio furnature.

A muffled explosion shook the night, but not from the direction that I expected. I looked over to where I had sent the telegrapher and winced. I guess the last line should have been “This messenger will self destruct…”

As I watched the silly, red cap roll down the street, I knew that it was time for yet one more…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

My first thought was to get my blogless brother in on this one. I just had to hope that he had his phone on. Since he had moved to Ohio, he had effectively put himself out of “drive-over-and-wake-him-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night” range. Fortunately, he was still up. I guess he hadn’t gotten out of his third shift sleeping habits yet.

“Culbrez, can you hack into the CNN computers for me?”

“Sure thing. Just let me finish this round of Halo.”

Ten minutes of listening to him swear at backstabbing team-killers later…

“OK, I’m back. What are we looking for?”

Leaving out the singing, I filled him in on my assignment. And I added, “Whatever you do, please don’t open any files labeled ‘Penguins.’”

“We’re not hacking into Evil Glenn’s computer.”

Moments later, he said, “OK, I’ve got it. I’m sending it too your e-mail right now.”

I quickly logged onto my server and opened the file he sent me.

To: CNN website programmers

From: Kerry presidential campaign headquarters

Re: Website polling questions

Here are some “unbiased” questions we would like you to include in your web-site polls.

Would you say John F. Kerry:
a) Is Presidential looking
b) Is Presidential sounding
c) Has a presidential bearing
d) All of the above

John Kerry’s Vietnam service gives him _____ ability to be Commander-In-Chief than Bush.
a) More
b) Much More
c) There is no comparison
d) Bush has no ability

George Bush is the worst president:
a) Since Nixon
b) Of the last 50 years
c) Of the last 100 years
d) Since the ratifying of the Constitution

9/11:
a) Was staged by right-wing conservatives
b) Could have been prevented by Bush
c) Was retaliation for Abu Ghraib
d) Never happened

If John F Kerry becomes president; in the future, when his head is put on Mt. Rushmore, it should replace:
a) Washington
b) Jefferson
c) Roosevelt
d) Lincoln

John F Kerry is _______ Bush
a) A better presidential candidate than
b) Better looking than
c) Smarter than
d) Going to beat

CNN is:
a) Less biased than Fox News
b) Unbiased
c) Better than Fox News
d) The bestest source of news in the world

“This is just great!” I told my brother. “You don’t have to look any farther.”

“OK,” he replied, “I just want to see what’s in this file marked ‘Nancy Pelosi, before and after.’”

Nooooooo. But I was too late. His screams filled the phone receiver.

“Ahhhhhhhh. My eyes! They burn!”

How does he keep finding those files?

I am what I am.

Take the quiz: "Which American City Are You?"

Cleveland
You are blue collar and Rock n Roll. You Work hard and party harder.

Not bad. If I was to pick one of the possibilities, that's the one that I'd have chosen. And not just because it's the closest to where I actually live.

More Zen

Had Chinese take-out again the other day. So here I'm sharing some more zen-like thoughts.

Keep true to the dreams of your youth.
Lucky Numbers 8, 14, 22, 27, 32, 45

You have a keen sense of humor and love a good time.
Lucky Numbers 6, 13, 14, 22, 24, 35
(on the back) Learn Chinese - Telephone: Dian-hua

(This one is in blue instead of the usual red ink)
Your exotic ideas lead you to many exiting, new adventures!

Boy, that last one might have been right out of Harvey's personal files.

And yes, Harvey, we know... add 'between the sheets' to the end of the fortune.

Evil Glenn's Children

I had just finished a long day of heavy lifting. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was boxes being stacked on boxes. And then they were moved into new piles somewhere else. And then it started all over again; put box on truck, drive truck, put box in storage.

It was all my blogless brother’s fault. A bit of good news and bad news, and a little bit of worse news all rolled together. The good news: my blogless brother finally figured out where he lived. The bad news: it was in Ohio, four hours away. The worse news: I had to help him move.

At last, at the end of a day of unwanted labor, I suggested we soak in the hot tub and relieve our aching muscles. As we sat there soaking and looking up at the stars, out of nowhere, a large owl swooped down and landed on my blogless brother’s head. We both did the only sensible thing we could think of and ducked down beneath the surface of the water. From the sound of screaming that I could hear through the water, I deduced that this did not please the owl. When I finally ran out of air, and had to surface, my brother was only half conscious and clinging to the side of the tub. His naturally strawberry-blonde hair was becoming a slightly deeper shade of red as the owl’s talons worked themselves into his scalp.

Silently, I cursed myself for going in the water without my dive knife. This was just the sort of reason why you always keep one with you; that, and the occasional pool shark. I was just starting to contemplate going hand to hand with it, when I noticed a small cylinder attached to the owl’s leg.

Oh great, another assignment from Harvey. I thought. I was right.

As soon as I popped the message cylinder off of the owl’s leg, it immediately took flight and disappeared into the night. Owls aren’t the symbol for wisdom for nothing.

I unfolded the paper, and read the words that I was all ready starting to regret…

“Agent GEBIV, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to determine what names Evil Glenn would use for his children. The fate of the entire world could rest on the information that you uncover. With a mission, this important, you would rightfully expect the full aid and support of the entire Alliance. So it wouldn’t really be fair that if you were discovered, we would disavow all knowledge of your actions. But that’s what we will do. So don’t get caught.

This message will self destruct in 5 seconds…”

I quickly threw the balled up paper straight up into the darkness and ducked back underwater. As the resulting fireball lit up the night for miles around, I knew that it was time for yet another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

Unfortunately for my blogless brother, he hadn’t regained enough consciousness to duck under the water when I did. But on the plus side, the intense heat from the blast cauterized all of the owl scratches on his head. And he won’t have to pay for a haircut for several months.

I revived him by dunking him, headfirst, into the still chilly water of the rest of the pool. Soon, he was coherent, and we quickly set up his laptop and satellite up-linked modem on the picnic table.

First, we were going to check Evil Glenn’s personal records, to see if he already had any children. But we decided there would be too much risk of actually seeing the result of Evil Glenn reproducing, so we changed tactics. Instead, we hacked into his personal journal; the files where he puts his most personal thoughts. Thoughts that were so personal, he wouldn’t even dream of posting them on the Internet.

After firing up a powerful search engine that Culbrez had been creating in his spare time, we found what we were looking for. An entry in Evil Glenn’s personal diary.

Dear Diary,

It was such a rough day ruling the blogsphere today. I swear, the one more “Indeed” and my fingers will just DIE. ::pout:: That pesky Frank J. is bothering me again. I think I’d like to punch him. Whenever I think about him, my puppy-shakes just seem to loose their zing. I may have to start blending babies again to get back to my old form, and you know how the police always make a big stink over that. ::shudder::

Oh, I had a wonderful evening with Fatty Sue last night. The only thing is, she doesn’t want any children yet. I guess she just doesn’t hear her biological clock ticking away ::tick tock tick tock:: like I do. I spent the whole morning just daydreaming about what we would name our kids.

If we had a girl, I think I’d like to name her Wrap. That way, when we went to visit all of my communist buddies in China, they would call her Reynolds Wrap. Heh, silly Asians.

I’d like a boy though. We would name him Little Evil Glenn. I’d call him Leg for short. Just think of all the fun Leg and I would have beating hobos and training Attack Rabbits.

I asked Fatty Sue what she would name a girl if she had one. She says that she would name her Betty, after her hero Betty Crocker. (silly girl)

Then I asked her what she would name a boy. Do you believe she said "Harvey"? I asked her why, and she said that she thought that the boy should be named after his father.

So little to do and so much time to do it in...

Strike that, reverse it.

Sorry I missed the PGH Assignment this week, I was helping my blogless brother move all day yesterday, and never got around to using my computer at all. Besides, I couldn't think of anything but tying a pork chop around the terrorist's neck and making them play with dogs. Israeli dogs. Some pretty good ideas at the roundup by everybody else though.

Any how, packing and putting stuff in storage took all day, and we're not even done yet. I couldn't help today, had to work most of the day, but there is more stuff to get tomorrow. Sometimes having access to a truck can be a pain.

Fortunately, as late as we got done Wednesday, the hot tub was up and running. As we were soaking in it around 11:00, we did get a little star-gazing in. Don't know what was up, but we saw 6 or 7 sattelites cruise by in a 15 minute stretch. Most I had ever seen in one night before was about 3.

And then an owl swooped down over us and almost gave me a heart attack. BIG OWL. But still, not a bad way to end a tiring day.

Who'd a thunk it?

You are a GRAMMAR GOD!


If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!


How grammatically sound are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I know that anyone who has actually read my writing would probably dissagree. I know most of the rules; I just chose which ones I use.

More Zen...

Had Chinese take-out with my blogless brother and my Dad again. So here is what we learned from lunch...

Mine:
The respect and help of influential people will soon be yours.
Lucky Numbers 6, 10, 12, 16, 34, 35

Blogless Brother's:
Enthusiastic leadership gets you a promotion when you least expect it.
Lucky Numbers 1, 2, 3, 17, 27, 37
(Bonus on the back):
Learn Chineses: Pork - Zhu-rou

Dad's:
Do not mistake temptation for opportunity.
Luck Numbers 12, 14, 22, 23, 24, 43

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's Fed-Ex Package

I was sprawled on a lounge chair waiting for the pool to fill up. The heat and humidity had sapped all of my energy, and all I could do was wait for the cool refreshing water to reach the proper depth for a swim. I glanced over to the pool, interrupting my in depth study of the clouds, and noticed a small toad sitting in the shallow end, right above the slowly rising water line. I knew that even the chlorine levels of the tap water would be enough to eventually kill it. And I couldn’t stand the thought of it dying in the pool. It would clog the filter up something fierce.

So I peeled myself off of the plastic chair and climbed down into the pool. The little creature just sat there, and was no problem to catch. As I picked it up, it started talking to me.

My first thought was that I had been out in the sun a little too long. This was confirmed by my second thought Cool, a talking frog. Then, as I started to pay attention to what it was saying, I comprehended what it really meant.

“Agent GEBIV, you mission, if you choose to accept it (croak), is to determine what was in the Fed-Ex package Evil Glenn received this week. (Ribbit) If you are discovered, we will probably be able to spring for bail. (croak) Harvey had a good day at the tables, and the Alliance is pretty flush right now. But try not to get caught, it would hurt our year end bonuses.

“This message will (croak) in 5 seconds…”

I threw the robotic-toad-messenger into the deep end and scrambled out of the pool. I rolled over the lip of the concrete patio just as a twenty-foot geyser erupted from the water. As the water splashed down all around me, I realized that it was yet again time for another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

I knew that computer abilities would be unnecessary on this mission, so blogless brother Culbrez wouldn’t be needed. Which was a good thing. The last I had seen him, he had been trying to photograph the sun again. (“Ahhhhhhh. My eyes. They burn.”) So he was out of commission anyway.

But this assignment looked like it was just up the alley for Slinky, the Wonder Ferret, and me. I grabbed his luxury travel case, jumped in the Jeep and headed to Evil Glenn’s Evil Fortress. (On an aside, never try to put a ferret in anything but luxury accommodations. The only time that I made that mistake he made his displeasure known very quickly. Fortunately, none of the nerve damage was permanent.)

We arrived at Evil Glenn’s shortly after nightfall. My timing, or my luck was nearly perfect. Unfortunately, Evil Glenn had beefed up security since the last time I had been there. I wasn’t worried about the squads of Attack Rabbits; Slinky could take care of them. But the machine-gun nests with the spotlight towers would be a little too much for me to sneak by. But I had the perfect solution.

“OK, Slinky. I need you to go in there and get the Fed-Ex package that Evil Glenn recently received. Got it?”

He nodded his furry little head once and disappeared into the darkness. The only sign I had of his passage were the squads of Attack Rabbits fleeing in terror. That, and the occasional shape of dead rabbits picked out by the spotlights.

A few minutes later, he was back. He was dragging a box behind him as he bounced into view. It was a plain brown box, but I could just make out the address label on the top.

Acme Novelties 1313 Novelty Drive Hollywood, CA 08934

Evil Glenn
Evil Glenn’s Evil Fortress
1 Evil Fortress Drive
Tennessee 74612

But when I opened it, it was empty. Slinky brought me just the box. I wasn’t sure, but I had the feeling that he was enjoying this.

“All right,” I said to him. “I need you to get what was IN the box. Understand?”

Once again, he nodded his head and disappeared into the night. This time, I couldn’t track him at all. There were no rabbits left in the entire compound. Finally, at least fifteen minutes later, he was back again. I wasn’t able to make out what he had until he came right up to the tree I was sitting under. As he jumped up to me, he dumped a handful of small white objects into my lap.

“Packing Nuts?!?” This time I knew he was making fun of me. There was no way that he could have thought that this was what I wanted. And to top it off, he was lying on his back laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach.

I picked him up by his scruff and held him up at eye level. Big mistake.

A few minutes later, I had most of the bleeding stopped and was giving him orders again. “Please, please Slinky. I need you to bring me back something that shows what Evil Glenn got from Fed-Ex. There’s a bag of banana treats in it for you.”

The gleam in his eye told me that he had what he wanted out of the deal, and again, he slipped off into the compound. Almost an hour went by, and then he was back. In his paws he had a small slip of paper.

I carefully unfolded it and read.

Congratulations on your new purchase. Here at Acme Novelties, we endeavor to produce the best quality products in the industry. Our quality control testing surpasses even that used by Major League Baseball’s drug testing program.

We hope that you will have many years of productive use out of your new purchase. And we thank you for giving us your business.

Stupid ferret, this is worthless. I turned to give Slinky a piece of my mind, and he jumped up and turned the paper over. Oh, the other side.

Order Invoice:

One (1) container, all purpose penguin polish.

Ewwwwww. I didn’t want to learn anything more of Evil Glenn that night, so I packed Slinky back up in his luxury travel case, tossed in his bag of banana treats (you never go back on a deal with a ferret...), and climbed back into the Jeep.

Maybe the pool will be ready by the time I get home.

17th Amendment

Here's a really good article about the 17th ammendment and how the author believes that many of the problems of the current Senate can be traced to the fact that Senators are now popularly elected.

It's a good read.

(via Boots and Sabres)

A small exerpt in the Extended Entry

Few people today know that the Founding Fathers never intended for senators to be popularly elected. The Constitution originally provided that senators would be chosen by state legislatures. The purpose was to provide the states — as states — an institutional role in the federal government. In effect, senators were to function as ambassadors from the states, which were expected to retain a large degree of sovereignty even after ratification of the Constitution, thereby ensuring that their rights would be protected in a federal system.

The role of senators as representatives of the states was assured by a procedure, now forgotten, whereby states would “instruct” their senators how to vote on particular issues. Such instructions were not conveyed to members of the House of Representatives because they have always been popularly elected and are not expected to speak for their states, but only for their constituents.

PGH: Michael Moore

Sorry, no MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE! today. I detest Michael Moore too much to spend that much time thinking about him. So here are just a few FUN FACTS for the Precision Guided Humor Assignment.

* Sadly, Michael Moore is not succeptable to ferret attacks. Apparently, there are some things that Slinky won't sink his teeth into.

* In addition to making "documentaries", he also does weddings and Bah Mitzvas.

* He dreams of large women. (Sorry, I'm watching Princess Bride right now)

* He has never gone up against a Sicilian when death was on the line.

* He has spent several years making himself immune to fast food.

* He can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.

* He can clearly not choose the wine in front of himself.

* He chose wrong. (We can only hope)

That's all for today. Hopefully I'll be more funny next week.

Arab streets?

When you read satire, a lot of the time, you think to yourself, That would be cool if it really happened. Or something along similar lines. You usually think that with a little chucke. Your imagination picturing what has struck you as so funny. And that's probably the way it should be, most satire is meant to be humorous.

I usually do laugh when I read Scrappleface's writing. Although, a lot of times I have to check his links to see where his satire ends and reality begins.

This entry had no need for links. Unfortunately, it was almost completely fiction. And it was one of the few entries that didn't bring a little grin to my face. This was so untrue that it was depressing. Not that I don't think Scott Ott should have posted it, it was something that really shows the bias out there.

They should be reacting like that. All of the middle east should be screaming for the heads of Al Quaeda... but they say we're the bad guys.

I'm not saying that what the guards did to the prisoners was right or justified. I can't see myself ever doing that to anyone, and I pray that I am never put in a postition where I'll be tested.

But we can't put ourselves on such an uneven playing field. The terrorists already have an advantage in that they are willing to do anything to anyone. We have to play by the rules. But we cannot allow them any "moral superiority" over our actions. If they want to cry "foul" over our actions, they must be held accountable for their's. And we have to make the world hold them accountable.

And if the terrorists think that what happened in those prison cells was justification for murdering an inocent, what is the appropriate response to thier action?

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I guess I needed to get that off of my chest. Go read the article on Scrappleface, and make sure you read the comments. Not that I agree with them all, but I think the first one sums it up for me...

"If only..."

****
I was just listening to the radio while typing this. Alan Jackson's song "Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?" was playing. The final lines of the chorus just struck me.

Faith, Hope and Love are some good things He gave us,
And the greatest is Love.

And I guess that is the answer for me anyways. I can't hate the middle east for not reacting the way I feel they should over the murder. But I weep for them for not having the love they should.

A Moment of Zen

Had Chinese-Take-Out for lunch today. Here's a couple of the fortune cookie... well, fortunes.

Your fastidious nature has much more fun this year!
Lucky Numbers 11, 18, 16, 31, 35, 41
(OK, that one doesn't make much sense.)

Pray for what you want, but work for the things you need.
Lucky Numbers 6, 14, 22, 24, 36, 37
(Some good old-fashioned advice there.)

Filthy Lie: Evil Glenn's First Post

Gradually, I drifted back towards consciousness. But at first I couldn’t place where I was. Then slowly, the details started popping back into focus until with a rush, it all came back to me. I knew where I was and how I got there. But I still couldn’t figure out how to get out.

It had all started so innocently…

It was late at night, and I was at a gas station up town, filling the tank on the Jeep. I had just finished up and paid with my credit card, and was now waiting for my receipt. While I waited, I idly read the digital message display on the pump. Hmm. Hot dogs, two for a dollar.

Then, the display went blank and a new message started crawling across…

“AGENT GEBIV, YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, IS TO DISCOVER WHAT EVIL GLENN’S VERY FIRST POST ON THE INTERNET WAS. IF YOU DO NOT CHOOSE TO ACCEPT THIS ASSIGNMENT, YOU WILL BE RIDICULED AND DERIDED BY ALL MEMBERS OF THE ALLIANCE. OF COURSE, WE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ASSIST YOU IN ANY WAY, AND IF YOU ARE DISCOVERED, WE WILL BE FORCED TO DISAVOW ALL KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR ACTIONS.”

Well, that hardly seems fair.

“THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN 15 SECONDS…”

Oh boy!

I jumped into the Jeep and stamped down hard on the gas. Tires squealing, I raced across the parking lot, over the landscaped embankment and onto the street. With an ear-shattering thunderclap, the gas pump behind me detonated.

As I raced the fireball down the street, I realized that it was time for yet another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

First things first. I had to try to get a hold of my blogless brother, Culbrez. After an annoyingly long time, he finally answered in a groggy voice. “Where are you?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I think I hit my head again. I was just driving along and a Jeep jumped out in the street in front of me. And then just as I swerved, a gas station exploded right next to me. That made me swerve back the other way and I ended up upside down in a ditch.”

Oops

“Umm, I think I can see the smoke.” Oh boy could I see the smoke. “I’ll be right there to pick you up.”

Ten minutes later, we were back on the road. I had stopped just long enough to grab my blogless brother and throw his computer gear in the back seat. Then we headed straight for Evil Glenn’s Evil Fortress. I knew that there was no way that Evil Glenn would have left his first post on-line, but I also suspected that his ego would be too great for him to have deleted it completely. So it looked like we would have to break into his Evil Fortress and physically access his files.

About halfway there, we had to turn around and go back to my place. I wasn’t going to assault Evil Glenn’s Evil Fortress without some backup. So we had to go back and pick up Slinky the Wonder Ferret. (Culbrez was only along for his computer abilities.)

Soon, we were at the entrance to the den of all things evil. I sent Slinky through first, to make sure that it was safe. The sounds of ferret combat that drifted back through the gate told us that we had made the right choice. I know that I didn’t want to face another one of those Attack Rabbits. A few minutes later, Slinky came back and showed us that the way was clear. As we waded through the aftermath of ferret on rabbit carnage, I couldn’t help but think, Man am I glad we went back for Slinky.

We had Evil Glenn’s computer up and running in a matter of seconds. While Culbrez started sifting through the electronic records of Evil Glenn’s files, I tackled the hard copies. Soon I was hip deep in paper, as I pulled folder after folder from the cabinets. Before long, I had found what I was looking for, a file labeled “Instapundit: Original Postings”

I held it up to show my blogless brother just as I heard him say those fateful words. “Hey, I wonder what’s in this folder marked ‘Penguins’?” Oh no, not again!

I tried to stop him, but it was too late. His screams filled the air as he ran off into the night. I just stood there dumfounded. How does he keep finding that stupid file?

Suddenly, I heard an evil chuckle coming from a door off to the side of the computer room. I looked over, but could only see a pair of legs wearing dark socks and sandals standing in the shadows. It was him! I tried to run, but found myself trapped by the piles of folders I had pulled out of the cabinets.

He stalked across the room towards me. Even as he entered the lit room, I couldn’t make out any of his features. It was as if he wore the darkness like a cloak and dragged it into the room with him. He plucked the unopened folder from my hands as I stood there helpless. But as he pulled it away, I was just able to make one grab at it. The paper tore under my fingers as I was unexpectedly struck from behind. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I could feel a small scrap of paper in my fist. With my last coherent thought, I was determined not to let go of it.

The next thing that I knew, I was being thrown into a small, windowless cell. But as they were attaching the shackles, I still had that tiny piece of paper clutched tightly in my hand.

That was three days earlier. At least that’s how long ago I think it was. The only indication I had of the passage of time was the infrequent meals and how long my beard had grown. As near as I could tell, I had a three-day shadow. Oh no! I thought, I’m going to be late with my Alliance Assignment.

Then the slot where they had been shoving my meals through opened and a small, lifeless, furry body came tumbling through. Not Slinky! As I reached across the floor the guard’s voice came through the opening. “Here, we’re tired of cooking your meals. Gnaw on this for a while.”

When I picked it up, I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Slinky. It was one of Evil Glenn’s Attack Rabbits. Then I noticed that it was freshly killed, and it was obvious that it was Slinky’s handiwork. Hope surged through me as I realized that he was still out there. With the hope came determination. No one was going to keep me in a cell if I didn’t want them to.

Summoning up all of my rage and pent up frustrations, I lashed out at the door with my foot. The kick sent it flying off of its hinges and across the room. I strode out of the cell, ready to take on whatever Evil Glenn had in store for me.

The sight that met my eyes was not what I was expecting. The walls were covered in fresh blood and bodies were piled up everywhere. And sitting precisely in the middle, was Slinky. The look he gave me was one of impatience, as if to say, “What took you so long?” I hadn’t even heard a sound, but it was apparent that this had all happened in the seconds before I had broken out of the cell.

I looked down at the smug looking ferret and shuddered. I was just glad that he was on my side. He led the way as we exited Evil Glenn’s Fortress. We soon found ourselves back where we had left the Jeep. There was no sign of my blogless brother, so I could only hope that he had gotten away. I knew that he hadn’t been held in the dungeons with me; Slinky and I had searched all of the cells before we left. I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of him, but I didn’t have any time to spare looking for him. I had to get the information back to the Alliance.

And what was on the scrap of paper; the information that I had risked life, limb and sanity to retrieve? What was Evil Glenn’s first post? Just one word:

Test

PGH: Kerry Website Improvements

I was out riding my bike. I just felt the need for some fresh air, so I strapped on my helmet, grabbed a water bottle, and started pedaling. After about 15 minutes, I looked down at the odometer to see how much distance I had covered so far.

Instead of showing me the mileage like I expected, the little display was just flashing, “Press button.” Oh great. Now what? I pressed the button, hoping that I hadn’t broken the stupid thing already. Immediately, a message started scrolling across the small screen.

“AGENT GEBIV, YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, IS TO FIND OUT WHAT IMPROVEMENTS CAN BE MADE TO THE OFFICIAL KERRY WEBSITE. AS ALWAYS, IF YOU ARE DISCOVERED, WE WILL DISAVOW ALL KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR ACTIONS.”

Squirrel! I swerved, narrowly avoiding the suicidal rodent. Accident avoided, I looked back at the tiny display.

“… WILL BE VITAL THAT YOU AVOID THIS AT ALL COSTS. ANY MISTAKE COULD BE POTENTIALLY FATAL.”

Oh great! What did I miss?

“THOSE ARE YOUR INSTRUCIONS. SO GOOD LUCK… THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN 3…”

Oh boy.

*BOOM*

The explosion threw me off of the bicycle. Fortunately, I was wearing my helmet. But while the helmet did a marvelous job of minimizing the damage to my head, it had quite the opposite effect on the windshield of the parked car that I hit. I suppose that meant that it worked perfectly.

As I hauled myself out of the back seat of the wrecked Kia Laguna I found myself in, I realized that it was time for another…

MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)

I dragged what was left of my bike back towards home. Half an hour later, when I got there, I jumped right into action. First, the hydroxide. Then the iodine and Band-Aids. Once I was liberally covered in the plastic strips, I got to work on my mission.

I figured that the first thing I should do was to actually look at the Kerry website. (Waffles) But then I thought, That might be what Harvey had been warning me against. So, I decided that would be something to put off for a little bit.

So then I called my blogless brother’s cell phone. I was hoping to have a little bit of help on this one. He answered his phone quickly enough, but was still wandering around lost. I asked him if he could hack into the Kerry Campaign computers for me.

“Sure. No problem. Just let me hook up the wireless modem.”

“Careful when you log onto the website.” I told him. “I think there was a warning about it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m wearing sunglasses.”

“Polarized?”

“Yep. 99.99% UV protection too.”

That should just do it.

Moments later, he was in. “Hmm. It says that it’s under construction.”

“Can you get to the unpublished sections?” I was hoping to see what changes that the Kerry people were doing.

“I’ll do better than that.” He said. “I can get you to the web designer’s notes. Here, I’ll send it to your screen.”

A new window opened on my computer screen. It was just what I was looking for; all of the proposed changes to the website.

Kerry For President Website: Proposed Changes Dewy Cheetem and Howe, Consultants

With each issue statement, run a counter telling how many days since Kerry’s position last changed.

Mention Vietnam at least once in every sentence. (Already being implemented)

Have links to “Girls Gone Wild Website” (Suggested by Bill Clinton)

Have links to “Anything with Nekkid Wimmen.” (Also Suggested by Bill Clinton)

Make website more “Environmentally Friendly” by only using recycled electrons. (Suggested by Al Gore)

Have Nekkid Wimmen in the banner. (Suggested by Bill Clinton)

Post a Weblog detailing Kerry’s day-to-day thoughts, including all nuanced positions on key issues. Make sure to have no archives.

Lie about Bush. Remember, ‘The bigger the lie, the more people will believe it.’

Suggested Subliminal Messages:
- “VOTE KERRY”
- “BUSH STINKS”
- “BUY HEINZ”
- “SEX” (Suggested by Bill Clinton)
- “HILLARY ‘08” (Suggested by Hillary Clinton)
- Nekkid Wimmen (Bill again)
- “BUSH LIED – PEOPLE DIED”
- “YEAARRRGGGGGHHHHH!” (Suggested by Howard Dean)

Have theme song running on the website:

(To the tune of ‘He’s a Lumberjack’ by Monty Python)
He’s a Liberal and he’s OK
He taxes at night and spends all day

He hugs the trees,
He eats his lunch.
He went to Vietnam;
He spent his wife’s money
And then he had Botox.

He’s a Liberal and he’s OK
He taxes at night and spends all day

He hugs the trees
He skips and jumps
He likes to press wild flowers
He supports gay marriage
And performs them in bars

He’s a Liberal and he’s OK
He taxes at night and spends all day

He hugs the trees
He wears Ray Bans,
Gucci and Armani.
If he runs out of money,
He’ll marry Donald Trump.

As I looked over what I had found, I heard my brother mumbling something over the phone. “What was that?” I asked.

“I was just wondering what was in this file marked ‘Kerry, Pre-Botox’?”

“No don’t!”

But I was too late. And his screams told me that his sunglasses weren’t enough protection either.

I guess there are just some things that are not meant to be seen.

Some More Banjokes

What did the banjo player get on his IQ test?
Drool.

What's the difference between a skunk and a banjo player run over on the road?
The skid marks are in front of the skunk.

What do you call the guy who hangs out with a bunch of musicians?
The banjo player.

How is playing a banjo like throwing the javelin blindfolded?
You don't have to be very good to get peoples attention.

How do you get a banjo player's eyes to sparkle?
Shine a flashlight in his ear.

(As usual, these were shamelessly stolen from Bluegrassbanjo.org)

May Day! May Day!

Does anyone know how a European holiday became the standard call for a plane in distress? Is is just because it is easy to say and doesn't sound like anything else, or is there a more interesting story?

I don't know, but I just thought I'd ask.

And just what is May Day? I think it involves a pole of some sort, and I know the Russians used to celebrate with tank parades, but that's about it.