I was at Eric’s place, and I enjoyed the video of the drunk, mumbling British guy. That reminded me of the great Al Kelly, the master of “doubletalk.” Al Kelly was a regular on the old Candid Camera show.

Check out this hilarious clip of Al Kelly posing as a judge in traffic court. Cracked me up, it did.

Unfortunately, Al Kelly passed away in 1966, because I would love to have seen him ask a question to the candidates in the Town Hall Presidential Debate. I suspect their answers wouldn’t have made any more sense than the question.

I’ve been thinking about tonight’s upcoming presidential debate media-driven theatrical event. I have been following the election closely since the damned primaries, and I have already decided how I’m going to vote. While tonight’s event may possibly be useful for those people who just now are beginning to pay attention to the election, nothing either candidate will say this evening will change my mind.

If you have been following this process all along and still claim to be undecided, I question your honesty, I question your intelligence, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be the waiter taking your dinner order.

For my part, watching the debate can only serve to make me angry, and my anger cup runneth over at the moment. I, therefore, plan to take a pass.

That is all.

Dear Non-Taxpayers:

If you are among the approximately 40% of Americans who don’t pay federal income tax, perhaps you have heard that Barack Obama has promised a “tax cut” for 95% of all Americans. Perhaps you have also heard or read that the “tax cut” for you who pay no tax will in the form of a check mailed to you. The amount I have heard is $500.00.

He is going to tax businesses and “the rich” to pay for this.

The only thing you have to do is elect Barack Obama president, and the government will send you your $500.00 check after the election.

Sounds sweet, right? Free money, right?

Consider this:

YOU will end up paying the tax by having to spend more on the goods and services sold by those businesses when they raise their prices in order to cover their increased tax burden.

If your employer is one of those businesses, and competition is such that your employer cannot raise his prices for his goods or services, he may well have to lay you off in order to cover his increased tax burden.

Nothing is free.

Please think about that before you sell your vote for $500.00.

Very truly yours,
Jimbo

Let’s sort some stuff out here.

We’ll begin by saying that if you are a person who would not vote for Senator Obama simply because he is black, please move along. There’s nothing for you here. Similarly, if you are voting for Senator Obama simply because he black, you can move along as well. I want to speak to normal people.

If you oppose Barack Obama, because his philosophy is that the government should provide everything for everyone from cradle to grave, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

If you oppose Barack Obama because, given his past associations, you don’t want to turn the American arsenal over to a person who wouldn’t be able to get a security clearance that would allow him to mop the floors at CIA headquarters, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

If you oppose Barack Obama’s plan to rescue the American economy by increasing taxes on “Big Corporations” and increasing capital gains taxes, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

If you oppose Barack Obama, because his only real accomplishments are the ability to run an effective campaign and to read well from a teleprompter, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

If you oppose Barack Obama, because his income redistribution plan is something that would make Karl Marx proud, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

If you oppose Barack Obama, because his plans for Iraq would have resulted in the surrender by American forces, go right ahead. You are not a racist.

That is all.

April 22, 2009
(Note: Around here, we are not permitted to say “2009;” we must say, “0001, in the Year of The One”)

Dear Friends,

I’ve been here for about a week now. Communication of any type with the outside is forbidden, but I managed to give this note to a sympathetic produce delivery man. I didn’t think I could print so small.

Here’s the story.

When I heard the knock on the door, I peeked through the window and saw the same two young, twenty-somethings outside my door. They call themselves “The Messiah’s Witnesses.” They had been coming to my house about every two weeks since the election last year and even more often since January, each time wanting to discuss my “aberrant” politics and to explain to me the wisdom of The Change.

The first few times they showed up I politely told them I was not interested in talking with them, but more recently, I had become more adamant in my refusal. Since their most recent visit, I had resolved that the next time they came knocking, I was going to tell them for once and for all to stay the hell off my property.

I opened the door, prepared to tell them to get lost, but before I could say a word, two men, each the size of an NFL lineman, leaped from the bushes on either side of the door, pinning my arms behind me and placing me in handcuffs. Once I was cuffed, another man, well-dressed and appearing to be in his forties, appeared from behind one of the bushes.

“Who the hell are you, and what the hell is going on here?” I screamed.

“My name is not important. My purpose is to advise you that, by order of Secretary of Education, William Ayers, effective immediately, you are directed to report to the Education Center in your Sector. We are here to transport you there.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I believe I spoke clearly. We are here to transport you to the Education Center in your Sector.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“Refusal is not an option.”

“Precisely, what have I done wrong?”

“You have done much wrong, starting with your failure to vote for The One, and, worse yet, your writing and saying things that question the wisdom of The One, not to mention your obvious resistance to The Change.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“I assure you that my mind is sound. It is your mind that needs work. You are to come with us now, and I mean right now. There is no need to gather any belongings, as The One will provide everything you need.”

“What about my family?” I asked. “Do you plan on kidnapping them too?”

“Your family will be permitted to remain in place, provided you cooperate with those who will guide you through your Learning Program. And, I must say that your use of the term ‘kidnapping’ is not a good start.”

“Well then, how about ‘Kiss my ass’ for a start.”

“Your attitude will not serve you or your family well. Let’s get moving.”

With that, I was hustled across my lawn to a school bus that seemed to appear from nowhere. The only thing that distinguished it from a regular school bus was the blackened windows. Upon being shoved into the bus, I saw other people I recognized, several of whom I knew to be veterans. When I tried to speak to them, the driver shouted that talking was not permitted. Everyone looked as dazed and confused as I felt.

The trip took a bit longer than an hour, but because of the blackened windows and my generally bad sense of direction, I had no idea where we were headed. Only when the bus arrived at its destination and we were herded off, did I recognize where I was. I remembered the place from 1968. It was the Fort Dix Reception Center, only now there was a sign over the entrance that said, “Camp Alinsky,” under which was written, “Embrace The Change.” Yes, this is the very same Fort Dix that Secretary of Education Ayers conspired to bomb in 1970, only now it was surrounded by razor wire and guard towers every two-hundred yards.

After our names were checked, we were led into a large auditorium for our “Initial Orientation.” In each corner of the large room stood men who were built like the goons who handcuffed me at my home. I later learned that they were called “Order Keepers” or “Ordners.” They looked menacing as they glared at the audience with their muscled arms folded over their massive chests. One of them broke his silence long enough to admonish the audience that speaking was not permitted.

Once the room was silent, a man in his fifties took the stage to address us. He said, “My name is Kwame Ondinga, and I am the Principal of Camp Alinsky. I would like to welcome you to your Education Program. I trust that you’ll find your initial orientation to be helpful.

“Each of you has been identified by Secretary of Education William Ayers as persons requiring education in order for you to fully embrace The Change.”

A few people, myself included, grumbled at such a notion, but the Ordners lowered their arms from their chests, signaling that grumbling was unacceptable.

“Your course of studies here is eight weeks long, and we encourage your active and enthusiastic participation.”

At that point, Ondinga instructed us in the proper method of recognition and and greeting. “You are to hold your arms chest-high, parallel to the ground, make two fists and press your knuckles together. You then separate your hands, thrust them forward and then bring them smartly to your sides. The proper and only acceptable form of greeting while executing this movement is to say, ‘Praise The One.’”

A few of us snickered, only to result in the Ordners screaming, “Silence!”

Ondinga continued, “I know that you all are anxious to know what is in store for you here, so let me briefly hit some of the high points. First, we will be spending a lot of time teaching you to deal with your racism.”

The room erupted in objections that even glares from the Orders couldn’t quell. Cries of “You’re crazy!” and “Bullshit!” filled the room.

One guy who was wearing a Marine Corps tee shirt stood and said to Ondinga, “I’ve about had it with this shit! I fought and bled with Marines who are black, and your claiming that just because I didn’t vote for, as you call him, ‘The One’ makes me a racist is pure bullshit, and I’m not about to sit here and put up with it.” The Ordners sprung into action and removed the guy from the room. I haven’t seen him since.

Another voice from the audience shouted, “What about the African Americans who also didn’t vote for ‘The One?’ Are they racists too?”

Ondinga, clearly annoyed by the question, replied, “We deal with them in a separate section of the camp.”

That remark dispelled any lingering doubt I might have had about how this was all going to work.

Ondinga continued, “Once you have come to terms with your racism, we will educate you in the wisdom of The Change. You will learn that we constantly strive to achieve what is best for the Common Good. Most of you will also be instructed on the subject of Global Warming and why it is counter to The Change to continue to be Deniers. That is basically the Core Curriculum here an Camp Alinsky. I’ll take some questions now, but, rest assured, most of your questions will be addressed in the next few days.”

One man stood up, and began to ask a question.

Ondinga cut him off saying, “I thought I just instructed you on the subject of the proper greeting.”

The man sat down, but Ondinga commanded him to stand and preface his question with the proper greeting. The man remained seated. Ondinga gave a signal to two of the Ordners, who ran to the man’s seat and dragged him to his feet.

“You will execute the proper greeting!” Ondinga said.

The room was silent, as everyone stared at the questioner, who was staring at the floor. Finally, the man looked up, raised his arms, placed his knuckles together and said, ‘Praise The One.’”

Ondinga returned the greeting. “Very good. Now, ask your question.”

“I was told when I was arrested that my family would be left alone. Can you confirm that?”

Ondinga replied, “First, we don’t use the term ‘arrested’ for helping you with transportation to the Education Center. As for your question, the answer is yes, as long as you successfully complete your Education Program, your family will be left alone.”

“What happens if at the end of the eight weeks you don’t think I successfully completed your Education Program?”

“In such cases, we give everyone a chance to repeat the program.”

“And what happens if, at the end of the repeat program, you still don’t think I’ve been successful.”

Ondinga answered, “We are confident that you will be successful.”

After a few more questions, about letters and telephone calls to the outside (None permitted), food (You’ll get what you need) and healthcare (We have a State Clinic on the premises), we were lead to another room to be issued our uniforms.

Each person was issued underwear, three grey shirts, three pairs of grey trousers, socks and black shoes. The shirts bore a name tag and the “O’ logo on the left sleeve. I noticed that my shirts all had a one-inch red “B” sewn on the front in the region of my chest.

I asked the person issuing the shirts why mine bore the letter “B.” He responded, “You must have been a Blogger.”

I said that I was indeed a blogger.

He smiled and said, “Bloggers get special attention.”

I knew I was in deep shit.

I’ll write again when I can.

J

I got Nichts.

Maybe tomorrow. Vielleicht nicht.

In New Jersey, where a majority of the electorate is either brain dead or has a vested interested in keeping democrats in power (e.g. a government job, a government contract, the continued regular receipt of a welfare check), each election we Republicans dutifully march off to the polls, knowing that we may as well be pissing into the wind. “What’s the point?” we ask ourselves, but we vote, nonetheless, in order to virtuously maintain our bitching rights.

But, this election, Dogette has provided us with the opportunity to put some genuine joy into the otherwise gloomy process of voting. You can click on over to Dogette’s site and lay claim to the celebrity douchbag’s vote you want to cancel. What a perfectly splendid idea!

Don’t even think about claiming Bruce Springsteen, the phony-assed, marginally talented, reportedly smelly, pretend to be a working guy, Jersey singer (if one could call growling “singing”) and songwriter (if one could call his vapid crapola “songs”). His vote is already taken.

Go now. You’ll feel better. I promise.

Given the current state of affairs, I don’t know if I’m capable of stringing a few sentences together. I do know that, on my best day, I couldn’t lay it out as was done on the American Thinker in “The Crime of the Century.”

I’m not going to do snippets, because, if I do, many of you won’t read the whole thing. Read it all (may take three or four minutes).

For the sake of your mental and physical health, don’t read it within 15 minutes of checking your portfolio or your 401K.

Thanks to my buddy Jerry for the link.

Indeed.

Via Moonbattery

I found this food meme over at Elisson’s Place a while ago (Elisson being a food swashbuckler — he’s eaten whale fer Chrissake), and I’ve meaning to get around to it. The meme’s origin is here, and it is called 100 Things You Should Eat Before You Die.

After having examined the list, I would be quite happy to throw the sixes without ever having eaten some of these gems. If I fail to fully or even partially identify some of the items on the list, you can hop over to the previous link for an explanation (and sometimes a picture).

Let’s get started, shall we? I’ve indicated the things I’ve eaten in boldface.

100. Venison
Ate it once in Germany, after lots of beer. I won’t be eating it again.

99. Nettle tea
Sounds thorny to me.

98. Huevos rancheros
I have not tried them, but I know I’d like them, because I like the ingredients.

97. Steak tartare
Raw, ground steak with spices and a raw egg in it. I tried it once in Germany. It felt raw. I damned near gagged. If it were cooked, it would be good.

96. Crocodile
Anyone who has spent more than a week or two around here knows the answer to that question. Of course, crocodile = alligator for purposes of this meme. Blecch.

95. Black pudding
A bowl of clotted blood? Are you shitting me?

94. Cheese fondue
Definitely, when it was cool to have a fondue set. I believe we still have one in basement, which hasn’t seen cheese in decades. I believe it is right next to the Simon Game.

93. Carp.
Fish – no thanks.

92. Borscht
Beet soup. Nope.

91. Baba ghanoush.
Some kind of eggplant thing. I like breaded and fried eggplant and eggplant parmigiana, but I never had this stuff

90. Calamari
Deep fried squid. My friends love the stuff. Tasted in once (I believe I was drunk), and it tasted like fishy sneaker.

89. Pho
What the phock?

88. PB&J sandwich
Probably thousands of them. One of the finest things in life.

87. Aloo gobi
According to Elisson, this is Indian cauliflower and potato curry. Never had it, but I’d give it a shot.

86. Hot dog from a street cart
Absolutely. It was always referred to as lunch/dinner “under the umbrella.” We always referred to the vendors of this culinary delight as “umbrella guys.”

85. Époisses
Supposedly seriously rotten, stinky cheese. I suppose if you ate that, you might consider eating a turd.

84. Black truffle
Aren’t these the things that pigs find in the ground and cost a zillion dollars per ounce? Anyway, never had one.

83. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
Sho ‘nuf. Had blackberry, blueberry and even dandelion (although I’m not sure that’s a fruit).

82. Steamed pork buns
I don’t know if this has anything to do with bread, or the boobs on a female pig, or neither. In any case, I never ate ‘em.

81. Pistachio ice cream
Green and delicious.

80. Heirloom tomatoes
Having read the description, I believe home-grown Jersey ‘maters fit the bill. Nothing like a Jersey ‘mater.

79. Fresh wild berries
Ate a bunch of unidentified berries as a kid. I guess I’m lucky to be alive.

78. Foie gras
No farookin’ way.

77. Rice and beans
Si!!

76. Brawn, or head cheese
We always called it (phonetically) “stoogarina.” It is perfectly horrible. When I was young, my uncle dared me to try some. I never completely forgave him for that.

75. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
I like hot stuff. I’d probably like this.

74. Dulce de leche
Sounds a bit like caramel pudding. I think I’d like it.

73. Oysters
I sooner eat a ginder.

72. Baklava
I had this somewhere, but I can’t remember where (drunk?), but it was sweet and delicious.

71. Bagna cauda
It contains anchovies, which for me is dispositive. I ain’t eating it.

70. Wasabi peas
I believe Elisson brought these to a blogmeet. I liked ‘em. Great with Shiner Bock.

69. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
Clam chowder would be great, except for the clams. Blecch. Right up there with oysters. I’d like to break up the sourdough bowel and use it for peanut butter and jelly sammiches.

68. Salted lassi
Apparently it is a yogurt based drink with salt, pepper and spices, mixed up with ice to be frothy. Sounds a bit funky, but I’d give it a shot, because there is no FISH in it.

67. Sauerkraut
Yes! We have a German butcher in town who makes the stuff fresh (to the extent that fermenting cabbage can ever be fresh). What’s a hot dog without kraut? I’ve also tasted it with caraway seeds in it. Excellent.

66. Root beer float
I probably had one as a kid. Never was big on ice cream sodas. To me, it screws up the soda and screws up the ice cream. Now, a milk shake or a malted milk is something else.

65. Cognac with a fat cigar
Definitely, and it’s gottdamned civilized.

64. Clotted cream tea
Elisson “avoid[s] foods and beverages with names containing the word “clot,’” and I completely agree.

63. Vodka jelly/Jell-O shot
Absolutely. Nothing quite like chewing your booze.

62. Gumbo
Fishy soup. No thanks.

61. Oxtail
I had oxtail soup in Germany on a train. I don’t believe I was drunk at the time, so there’s no explaining why I tried it. I think it was good, but after having thought about it (oxtail!), I haven’t eaten it again.

60. Curried goat
No way.

59. Whole insects
Good grief, no! By the way, to me lobster is just one bigass insecty thing.

58. Phaal
More super hot stuff. I’d give it a go.

57. Goat’s milk
Not interested, thanks.

56. Single malt whisky
Many a time, laddie.

55. Fugu
First of all, it’s farookin’ fish, so no thanks. And, I for damned sure would not eat fish that could kill one’s ass if not properly prepared.

54. Chicken tikka masala
Chicken chunks with a bunch of Indian stuff on them. Depending on where the chunks came from, I’d consider giving it a try.

53. Eel
A favorite of my grandmother. Oy! One time she cut off an eel’s head and skinned the damned thing, and it uncoiled out of the bowel. Ack!

52. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
Good, but way overrated. Maybe they’re a big deal in states where you can’t find a real donut.

51. Sea urchin
I’d have to be about to die on a life raft before I’d eat one of these.

50. Prickly pear
“If the outer layer is not properly removed, glochids can be ingested causing discomfort of the throat, lips, and tongue as the small spines are easily lodged in the skin.” I don’t think so.

49. Umeboshi
A Japanese pickled plum. I know more than a few Japanese peeps, and I’ve never seen them eat these. I would give them a try. I did try seaweed. Yes, I was drunk. It tasted just like you’d imagine it would. Blecch.

48. Abalone
Fish trying to disguise itself with a name that sounds like baloney. Nothing gets past me.

47. Paneer
I looked at the picture. The green shit in the cheese turns me off.

46. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
You haven’t had one? I don’t question your judgment, but I do question your patriotism.

45. Spaetzle
Jawohl!

44. Dirty gin martini
Tried it, but I’m a purist when it comes to martinis (gin) – extra dry, up with olives. Lots of things are called “martinis” now, and it’s not worth fighting about, but a real martini is as earlier described.

43. Beer above 8% ABV
I’m sure I had some in Germany. Burrrrrp.

42. Poutine
French fries with gravy and curds on them. Yo, the gravy is OK, but hold the coids!

41. Carob chips
Carob is bullshit, fake chocolate. That is all.

40. S’mores
I can’t believe I’ve never had one, even when daughter was a Girl Scout. What’s not to like?

39. Sweetbreads
Thymus glands. Where do I sign up? Blecch.

38. Kaolin
I believe this would be like eating dirt, and is one of the ingredient Kaopectate, which, I am happy to say I have not had to take in many a year.

37. Currywurst
German Wurst is almost always good, but hold the curry.

36. Durian
“Regarded by some as fragrant, others as overpowering and offensive, the smell evokes reactions from deep appreciation to intense disgust. The odour has led to the fruit’s banishment from certain hotels and public transportation in Southeast Asia.” Ooofah!

35. Frogs’ legs
Sorry, but I believe that peeps who eat these things and say, “they taste like chicken” should eat chicken. Farookin’ frogs? WTF?

34. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
Fried dough. Gotta love it.

33. Haggis
Grew up in a town where the Scottish butcher made and sold this stuff. I can’t imagine being drunk enough to eat it.

32. Fried plantain
They always looked to me like bogus bananas. If it didn’t taste like a banana (which I expect it wouldn’t), I’d be pissed.

31. Chitterlings, or andouillette
No thanks.

30. Gazpacho
I believe that soup should be hot. Period.

29. Caviar and blini
Turns out that blini is (are) sort of like oven-baked pancakes. That sounds OK, but dumping a bunch of eggs from an ugly-ass fish all over them? Blecch.

28. Louche absinthe
One of few (and I do mean few) adult beverages I am not particularly fond of. Tastes like licorice.

27. Gjetost, or brunost
Apparently this is some sort of brown cheese. I question the basis of its brownness and hence would not eat it.

26. Roadkill
Not even a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if it was squished by a tire.

25. Baijiu
Chinese booze. I have yet to encounter any form of liquor that I won’t try. Hell, I like slivovitz.

24. Hostess Fruit Pie
They were a staple when I was growing up. Haven’t had one in many years.

23. Snails
I don’t believe that anyone really likes these, but they order them for effect. Eat a goddamned snail? A snail? You gotta be shitting me.

22. Lapsang souchong
Smokey-flavored black tea. Never had it, but I’d try it.

21. Bellini
A very civilized drink.

20. Tom yum
It’s some kind of soup. I checked out the picture (a shrimp with the eyes looking up from the bowl at the diner). No thanks.

19. Eggs Benedict
This is another one I never got around to trying. Maybe it’s because poached eggs always seemed to me to need more cooking.

18. Pocky
”[A] biscuit stick coated with chocolate,” popular in Japan. Works for me.

17. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
I would probably find most of the things on the menu to be gross. I’d sooner have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk.

16. Kobe beef
I’d order it well done and probably end up in an argument with the cook.

15. Hare
Never had it, nor have I ever eaten tortoise.

14. Goulash
Yep. Very good.

13. Flowers
As noted above, I’ve drunk dandelion wine. Does that count?

12. Horse
Naaaaaaaaaay.

11. Criollo
According to the description, this is more of a style of food in Peru than it is a particular food, but I know I’ve never had food that fits that description.

10. Spam
Yes, in Hawaii, where they eat tons of the stuff. It came in the form of musubi, which is rice on top of Spam, wrapped in seaweed. I could really do without the seaweed.

9. Soft shell crab
Now, these are particularly disgusting. Eat the entire loathsome animal shell and all? Good grief!

8. Rose harissa
Hot sauce. Sounds good, but with rose petals?

7. Catfish
Disgusting. I apologize to my friends south of the Mason-Dixon line, but catfish are farookin’ gross.

6. Mole poblano
Apparently this is a chocolate chili sauce. Never had it, but I have had Swiss chocolate flavored with chili peppers. Sounds goofy, but it’s quite good.

5. Bagel and lox
Love bagels. Pass the cream cheese with chives. Hole the lox!

4. Lobster Thermidor
Lobster, as noted above, reminds me of a large cockroachy thing.

3. Polenta
I’ve had it in a couple excellent Italian restaurants. Very good.

2. Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee
Never had it, but I’d love to try it. Black, no sugar, of course.

1. Snake
This scores a solid 10 on the disgusting scale.

I can’t imagine that anyone has read this all the way through, but if you did, you should treat yourself to a nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Now, that’s good eatin’.