Score 1 for the “THC doesn’t make you lazy” camp… Sure, it’s a small camp, but they’re highly motivated, and very hungry…
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Score 1 for the “THC doesn’t make you lazy” camp… Sure, it’s a small camp, but they’re highly motivated, and very hungry…
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Find out what happens when you get a room full of comedians, booze, drugs and call girls (not really..well, maybe sometimes…)
It’s the GREAT DEBATE!!! No Holds Barred, No Sacred Cows Spared (sorry Shania Twain), as James Inman and Arlo Stone square off and debate the great issues of our time i.e. UFO’s , obscure african tribal societies, Canadians! With your host and moderator PAUL CURRINGTON! Learn shit you never knew and never cared about, The Dogan tribe, the Cathars, the bears. It’s a Roundtable of Biblical proportions. A four part series all in one giant four course meal. It’s like eating monkey brains! Bring a fork…
ComedySpeak.com
Old Article – The Daily Interlake
By Frank Miele
The Daily Interlake 8/01/97
Another week, another comedian.
It’s a familiar story at the Outlaw Inn, which has sponsored a comedy night for several years. But what happened last week in the Outlaw’s Lounge was neither familiar nor funny.
Audience members attacked Stone on stage in the middle of what was a very funny routine that was both unsettling and vitriolic. Stone practices social humor in the same vein as Lenny Bruce or Mort Sahl, and like Bruce he paid a price last Friday night.
In the middle of his act as headliner, Stone asked the audience to hold down their chitchat, but with little effect. He then singled out one man as an example and chided the man for continuing to talk during the show. One thing led to another, and eventually the rather large man and an even larger friend rushed the stage and started throwing punches at the smallish comedian. Soon there was something rather close to a small riot breaking out.
Thanks to one Good Samaritan from the audience who came to his aid, Stone escaped without major injury, but needless to say, Kalispell emerged with a black eye.
We can only assume that Stone will now incorporate this drunken assault into his routine and paint Montana and Kalispell as hillbilly backwaters. Goodness knows after what I witnessed last week, I can’t blame him. It was an appalling moment.
Stone has been on Comedy Central and has appeared at clubs in major cities from coast to coast. He is a true professional, and in spite of the attack on him last week, he went on with the show – even with his shirt ripped off his shoulders and hanging around his waist. But let’s face it, even if he were a lousy comedian, he deserved better treatment than he was given last week.
If you attend the comedy show tonight (it starts at 9pm) please remember to respect the performers and the other audience members by not talking during the show.
And please, don’t punch the comedian.
My 9-11 Tribute…
My Tribute is in the form of a review concerning one of my performances a few years back. (A brief segment of the event can be viewed from a video shot that night in the “jokes and riots” section of this very website…)
9-11-01, was an enormous wake up call, a sad, anguished, scream of the desperate and hungry.
A call to consciousnees, and for the already awakened? A fervent need to educate those not yet weaned from the insanity of “mainstreamism” in this epic struggle to salvage a planet worth either living on or fighting to protect.
In this day and age, not just comics but indeed every living soul ought begin taking to all of life’s infinite stages en masse; to stem the tsunami of war, profit and environmental “ecocide” ingrained into our drunken train wreck of a culture ought be the lifework of every person still free in spirit.
This brawl happened because I needed to talk about rascism and gun control in Montana this particular evening. Funny as it was for the many, the drunk loggers in the front row begged to differ…
Ironicly, the man in question came back looking for me not 20 minutes after the show ended, waving his gun around the lobby and screaming for my room number. (Thus of course, proving my point regarding the need for the gun control in northern Montana…)
Enjoy the article and video, and enjoy your own 9-11, 9-12, etc… My 9-11 anniversary was spent thinking about new and funnier ways to awaken the slumbering beheomoth that is the population of what is now commonly referred to as the United States of America.
Oh and finally, a let’s not forget a very special 9-11 toast to anyone out there still with me, singing away into this exponentially expanding cultural black hole of intollerance, flag waving and nascar, our now warbeling voices like wet canaries in John Ashcroft’s Pennsylvania coal mine of Zealotry…
And of course, we’d be completely remiss if we let this anniversary slide on bye without a final, 9-11 toast to the Constitution; where even in it’s tattered remnants thanks to Ashcroft (How did he lose Missouri to a dead guy?) I’m still allowed, at least on this particular 9-11, to tell the truth. Enjoy it while you can, America…
Arlo Stone 9-11-’02
As I was driving to Tacoma this week for a show, listening to an account of the “Bull Durham” celebration cancellation at the Hall of Fame this week, I did some quick math regarding my own banishment from various comedy rooms around the country based on the content of my act… Indianapolis for a misinterpreted bit attacking racism, Montana for having the temerity to satirize gun control, even in my hometown of Eugene I’ve been banned. “Religious jokes” this time, hotly and vocally challenged by an abundance of creationist rednecks in attendance. Well, at least “in attendance” for the first fifteen minutes of my act. Goodnight folks. Drive home safe.
Over the course of a decade now in subversive political and social satire, I’ve been banned now from comedy clubs in over a dozen venues spread over 10 States. Not for vulgarity, crassness, or a deficiency of laughter or professionalism, but for my “point of view”. Objectionable content, resulting in complaints and walkouts from people either failing to possess even a rudimentary understanding of “satire” or perhaps people flat out incapable of allowing their belief systems to be threatened by thoughts and ideas contrary to theirs. Maybe both. At a comedy show! The advisable course, the “rational decision” (as offered on my behalf by more than one club booker) would be for me to “tone it down” or to “drop it a notch and play ball. It’s easier for everyone that way.” By toning it down of course, what is meant is that I parade for the masses the usual comedy club fare – debasement of gays, women, minorities, any banality will suffice so long as it fails to provoke even a murmur of discontent. In comedy parlance, “tone it down” means, “don’t attempt to challenge anything” for the hour you’re on stage.
Tone it down? Now? Are you kidding? The Trail of Tears resulting from US imperialism now stretches to every corner of the world. Fueled in great part by the PR machines necessary for capitalism’s illusion and fraud to continue, the job of Hills & Knowlton and their ilk is to further warp and distort what little sanctity remains in our rapidly disintegrating culture. Their goal is to ensure complacency and apathy in what little is left of the electorate. Spurred forth by the ensuing collective silence, destructive acts here and abroad by our government and its duped but approving minions relentlessly supply more human grist for the mill of capitalist imperialism, all the while expecting us “radical anarchists” (read; peace activists) to “tone it down some.” I wonder if the rest of the world, aligned in their contempt for the Bush regime, would prefer us all here in America to “tone it down some?”
I wonder if that little Iraqi girl, blood pouring from her eye as she screams for her dead mother, needs us all to “tone it down some?”
The following essay is for anyone in entertainment these troubled days using their medium for social progress, anyone at all refusing to tone it down some – Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins, Michael Moore, Martin Sheen, Alec Baldwin, Peter Arnett… May all the voices of the world, now clamoring in unison for peace, pledge never to “tone it down.” And to all those who “support the troops fighting for Bush’s oil”…err, I mean “support the troops fighting for our freedoms?” May the collective roar for peace resulting from our stubborn refusal to “tone it down some” one day reach even you, that you too may join us and add what remains of your hypnotized, Prozac laden, “Survivor” filled Mc-Soul to this rising crescendo of resistance.
Join us in supporting not the troops, but rather the illumination of our humanity, our need for community and the interconnectedness of ourselves to the entire planet and all its creatures. A world worth inhabiting awaits your awakening. To that end, this essay is written…
What an a-hole Bush has turned out to be. Even worse than expected! If nothing else, I say let the upshot to his un-election and subsequent fiasco be a valuable lesson for the future: “watch out for stupid people lacking even a basic comprehension of world history or politics running for president.” Bush sleeps just fine while dismantling the world’s safety structure known as the UN only because he lacks the intelligence and history knowledge necessary to grasp its importance. It’s like putting into the flailing hands of a hyperactive toddler with poor motor skills the last of an endangered insect species. “Watch out, don’t squish the pretty butterfly, I think you just found the last one, be gentle… uh-oh, butterfly went bye-bye. Gross! Oh well! C’mon, let’s go wash our hands for dinner, and no, you can’t have any pretzels. Not until you somehow learn how to eat them without choking and falling on your head.”
Support the troops as they do this idiot’s bidding? Pass.
I say fuck the troops. (Unless of course, they’re shooting their CO’s. The only increase in military spending I advocate now is mass showings of Stanley Kubrick’s “Full Metal Jacket” to all military personnel. Daily screenings. Now that I’d vote for!)
Is that un-patriotic? Must be, as patriotism these days seems limited to flag waving and troop supporting. “SUPPORT THE TROOPS!”… as they follow orders to ignore looters and kill whomever they’re told to? Is that what I’m supporting? The hell with supporting the troops, support an entertainment activist!
Public dissent is in much more need of your support these days than the 100,000 US troops. Trust me, the troops don’t need your support. They’re already “supported” just fine with vastly superior firepower, equipment, training and food. (Burger Kings and Pizza Huts in Basra, already open while Iraqi’s continue to suffer with no water, electricity or food. Welcome to “US-style Democracy 101,” kids. Better start stepping on your neighbor’s neck if you want to get ahead in our/your vision of progress.) All to destroy an “Iraqi Army” comprised mostly of conscripted children forced to fight the Americans with bolt action rifles while running for their lives. Support that?
How is it peace protestors are accused of not supporting the troops when we’re against them even going to Iraq in the first place? How is that a failure to support the troops, especially when compared to the flag waving pro-war folk who (when not calculating “acceptable body counts”) exuberantly send kids from this country marching off to die? That’s more supportive, more patriotic than fighting for them never to board the troop transport in the first place?
Brilliant spin. It’s like supporting cows by eating more frequently at McDonald’s. “Damn McDonald’s protesters, against the cows. What are you, commies? Support the cows! Eat more McDonalds! Damn this burger’s good…”
I wonder how many “we support the troops” folks are aware that Bush’s budget includes a 90 MILLION dollar savings from eliminating Veteran Benefits… That’s supporting the troops? I wonder what the Bush/war/troop fans will tell what remains of their sons and daughters once they return to America to find out their troop support was more about flag waving than vitally needed VA funds for their impending Gulf War Syndrome? I wonder stories await the “supported troops” once they discover there’s no money for what will be desperately needed psychological therapy once slaughtering an entire country begin to take it’s toll? (Unless their military conditioning fails to dissipate, causing them instead to never actually formally acknowledge the humanity of the people there, the “Hajis’”, as the troops have taken to calling them these days… Obviously Injun, wetback, nigger and gook were taken in previous liberations, and a new term of de-humanization was clearly needed to distance the troops from their actions against another group of people – Hajis. How perfectly American.)
I do not support the troops. I do not support any human who signs away his or her own conscience to any organization pledging to give them a “sense of direction.” Military, fundamentalist religious groups, cults, even the goddamn boy scouts. If rational thought or my conscience is indeed what makes me human, what am I when I allow the US Army to “be my conscience” for me? Anyone relinquishing their RESPONSIBILITY to act autonomously while on this Earth, in accordance with their own moral compass, is relinquishing the keystone of humanity’s most precious gift (to the US military no less!) and is in my estimation no longer even in full possession of their own “human-ity.” They have traded that in for something else.
Perhaps their very popular shirt proudly boasting “Kill ‘em all, let God sort ‘em out!”
Support that “individual”?
Sure. Like I support cops and pepper spray.
In George Orwell’s book “1984,” the “Ministry of Truth” confused the populace with “doublespeak;” – statements like “war is peace” and “freedom is slavery.” As Bush tortures “enemy combatants” (read: POW’s) in Guantanamo Bay (so far killing two) and yet unashamedly demands “fair treatment” for American POWs, (read: enemy combatants) as he thunders daily for war crime punishments for Iraqis while perpetrating that very thing himself, as he gloats of liberating the Iraqi people while destroying their infrastructure (for money) and then rebuilding it, (for more money) as he boasts on TV about US supplied humanitarian aid for the “Iraqi people suffering at the hands of the ruthless tyrant Sadaam,” as HE deliberately destroys their food distribution system thereby forcing the necessity of that very humanitarian aid, I can only imagine what ol’ George Orwell would’ve thought of his outlandish story now come to life as GWB. I wonder too if George Orwell was ever told to “tone it down.” You know, for the good of the country. I’m sure he was, and equally sure how better off we all are collectively as the result of his refusal to “play ball.”
Lesson learned.
Don’t support the troops. Support someone speaking out against them, their aims and their methodology.
Support dissent. Dissent is far more representative of a country worth creating than blind allegiance to a military no longer in need or even worth your support.
And as far as “playing ball” goes, fuck the Hall of Fame too…
Civilly disobedient wherever possible,
Arlo Stone
Terrorism? Don’t believe it… Oil? No way…
Drugs? Yeah, right…
The real reason?
TV.
Seriously. Need proof? OK, this week it was announced that for the first time ever in the war torn country of Afghanistan, American style programming will air, debuting in the form of a new show laughably titled “Good Morning Afghanistan”. Finally! No doubt the entire country of Afghanistan is breathing a collective sigh of relief, having finally procured some good American style TV programming to accompany their delicious American style TV dinners. (Mmm, macaroni and cheese. No doubt the perfect foodstuff for the Afghan digestive tract. Don’t forget the Du Pont yellow dye # 3!)
“Allah is good… How good? Find out this Tuesday, on a very special “Just Don’t Shoot Me” when Dhaviidhad Spahdihazikstash, complete with a sporty new Nike turban, trades his old, sweaty camel in for a shiny new American-made garbage disposal. Coming soon to an Afghani rubble field near you…”
Sure. Why not? I’m sure those new Northern Alliance TV Execs are drooling all over themselves as they eyeball the yet untapped Afghani, bearded and extremely disgruntled male four – to – 84 year old “death to the infidels” market. No doubt the ‘Afghanis’ (Afghanistan money; at 4,700 to a dollar, almost as prized as the Peso) will be flowing like Old Milwaukee at a High School kegger once the Northern Alliance resumes that once lucrative poppy and opium racket those Taliban evildoers did away with a few years back. What were they, stoned? No, the other kind. You think Old Spice sales are brisk in the US? Just wait until those filthy, unwashed heathens half a world away get wind of their new aromatic destiny, courtesy of the tube, the great glassy Allah of America. Plus, once the joys of capitalism are unleashed on the unsuspecting rabble of the Middle East, Afghanistan’s petty and annoying claim of mass starvation will be nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Nothing quiets annoying hunger pangs quite like an evening chock full of must see TV, Afghan-style!
“This week, it’s an all new ‘Real Dusty World’, number seven. Watch the artillery fly when we stick three Pashtoons, two Uzbeks and eight newly veil-less Afghani hotties in a two story cave outside of Kandahar. Brought to you by the many good folks at Unocal and the White House.” (Good luck determining who’s who)
“And let’s not forget Walker, Texas Ranger starring Chuck Norris. This week, Walker, the ‘Texas Ranger’ takes on . . .John Walker, the ‘Taliban Ranger’. How much resistance can a confused 20-year-old 150-LB malnourished Central California kid possibly offer up against Chuck and his tenth – degree black belt? Find out this Friday as these two not-so-distant cousins fight to the finish!”
Hatred of America abroad is about our unyielding allegiance to capitalism and our long-standing practice of arrogantly imposing it upon other cultures as an improvement to their inferior and substandard way of life. That’s why we’re hated. That the Pretzel-choker and co. has neatly pinned it on jealousy of our “values and freedoms” without so much as a whimper of protest speaks volumes to the degree to which we’ve already lost those “values and freedoms.”
Values? What values? I sat in a crowded movie theatre yesterday, surrounded by 200 people, enduring the now mandatory twenty minutes of advertising, theatre rules and trailers before the feature. One of the trailers was for the latest Denzel Washington vehicle, “John Q”. The movie’s plot? A man’s son is unexpectedly felled by an unknown heart ailment, and unless a transplant can be arranged quickly the child will die. Unfortunately, his insurance won’t cover the operation, and hospital policy is to release the child anyway, thus sealing his fate. Denzel, AKA “John Q.” (His hands tied by what must surely be considered an anomaly in the rosy panacea created by merging America’s values and healthcare for profit, right? Hardly. But I digress. Anyway…) John Q/doe now heroically takes the hospital staff hostage, tearfully screaming about burying his son, etc…Fact or fiction? Without Denzel Washington, who could say? Certainly none of the two hundred people I was with seemed to find the movie trailer a reach. A health care system more committed to profit than health and all it’s attendant lack of “values” seemed to be no more of a disurbance to the crowd than their 4.75 bucket of popcorn, (.04 cents to make) oozing with chemicalized artificial butter flavor, (don’t forget the Du Pont yellow dye # 3!) being washed down with a refreshing tub of carbonated sugar water. (Another .04 cents to make)
Those values?
Or is it’s our freedoms? What freedoms? You know, the ones currently best exemplified by Enron, the upper execs all waving cheerfully from the “sell now” lifeboats to the rank and file, gasping for breath handcuffed to Enron’s 401 K Titanic? Whoops! Sorry about the lifeboat shortage, but you know the rules, women and children… last. Not to worry though, a few scapegoats will be found, a few planks will be walked and ultimately nothing will be changed, save for the usual the realignment of legal loopholes; have to do our part to keep the nation’s lawyers out of the soupkitchens! (See the Savings and Loan bailout, junk bond fiasco, etc…) And why should anything be changed? In the greatness of America’s “free market no matter what” philosophy, you’re going to have to break a few of the peasantry’s retirement eggs to make that “anybody in upper management can get rich here in America” omelet.
Thank god there’s enough Lottery Winner pictures, Don Beaupre commercials and Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes envelopes to keep the riff-raff compliant.
As Alexis de Tocqueville (who says the French are worthless?) so insightfully pointed out in the late 1800′s, at least in an aristocracy or a monarchy, the people know up front the reigning, ruling class is out for itself. The most frightening aspect of America to him was the government’s potential to get away with so much more, thanks to the illusion of a government “of, by and for the people.”
Of, by and for the people indeed. I’m sure Afghanistan can hardly wait to exchange their ability to be satisfied with so little for the shimmering oasis of unfettered capitalist consumption.
Mirage my ass!
“Let our backward Afghani brethren emerge from the Dark Ages to watch TV with us, and so too let them graze freely at the limitless trough of capitalism,” we say. “Let them also eat cake!”
Or at least some of Du Pont’s yellow dye # 3.
The American public eye; where the size of the trumpet doled out by an adoring populace is directly proportional to how little you have to say. -
– Arlo Stone
I’ve had enough of being a slave. It’s been happening for so long now we’ve almost begun to lose track of just how many ways in which we can be bought and sold daily.
Unfettered capitalism; the whole thing reeks like spent plutonium, somewhat akin to the world’s biggest Ponzi scheme and I’m flat out sick of it.
Enough with the endless stream of telemarketers calling my house constantly, having purchased my name of from the phone company.
Enough with the phone company conveniently then offering me call screening, call blocking, caller ID, caller F- you, (all for a small fee, of course) to “remedy” the very problem they’re solely responsible for.
Enough with the “For Sale to Highest Bidder” sign around my neck.
Enough hunters with guns, extolling their “sportsmanship” as they drench themselves in deer piss and tree limbs while curling up inside a salt lick: “Here, kitty kitty kitty. KA-BOOM! You pussies. Try a week in grizzly bear county alone WITHOUT your gun, and then tell me about the “hunting” mystique. Pussies.
Enough with seeing “Honor Student of the Week” bumper stickers on mini-vans. Grooming another number adder for the State? Yippee! Nobody gives a rats ass your stupid kid somehow pulled it together for a week and finally figured out how to count to four at Bugar- Eater Elementary School. Put a “I’ve got a honorably sweet, smart and loving child on board who got that way because of home school” bumper sticker on your car and we’ll talk applause.
Enough of being treated as if we were nothing more than walking wallets.
Enough cancer everywhere, George Bush spending TWO TIMES more money on Daddy’s missile defense boondoggles than cancer research. How many people do you know who would still be alive today if only we had installed an inter-ballistic missile shield in space? Compare that to how many you’ve loved who’ve died from cancer. (The current Vegas odds have the over/under at four.)
Enough of the TV being wielded by the wealthy as a weapon of enslavement, the nightly news propaganda as meticulously crafted as the missiles it exalts relentlessly, leaving in it’s wake like a twister nothing more than the splintered remains of what used to be consciousness and objectivity.
“After seeing Jews and Arabs clash on TV for twenty seven straight days in Israel, Jews and Arabs in America began to dislike each other as well…” Shocking.
Enough of our interests, as people, being viewed by our “representatives” in Washington as secondary concerns to those of Big Business.
Enough with the so-called genetically “improved” world. I’ll take the one Nature produced instead, thank you very much. “Look! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! Oh my God, It’s neither! It’s actually a fifty pound genetically altered super-chicken, produced for the sole purpose of being a slave!” Just like us.
Enough.
Enough dune buggies, jet skis, monster trucks, chainsaws, snowmobiles, ATV’s and SUV’s. Anything with a loud, gas guzzling engine and the people who run them. Why are women still fucking these creeps? Shitting all over nature, spraying chemicals and exhaust everywhere: RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! No respect for a single thing on the entire planet, but hey ladies, I’m sure he’ll be real kind to you. In fact, that explains it; he only has a finite amount of respect, and he’s saving it all up for you. Welcome to a great life, dune-buggy head lovers: “Where’s my dinner, bitch? Hurry up, wrasslin’s on!” Thank God for Karma. Enjoy, ladies.
Enough misdirected sympathy in this overcrowded rat cage. I cheer now whenever I see any kind of TV speedboat crash footage…”Wheeee! Woooo – hooo! Yes! Right on! Thank God! One less tailpipe in my drinkin’ water.” Another SUV rolls off the Interstate and explodes in a ball of flame? “Wheeee! Woooo – hooo! Yes! Right on! Thank God!” Everyday I call Firestone at least once. “Good job boys, keep making those shitty tires! Don’t stop now, you’re finally doing something good for the world, keep it up!”
Enough.
You too?
I think it might be time to do something different. I think it just might be time to fight back. I think it’s time to take a stand, as more and more of Uncle Sam’s jack-booted thugs step on our necks. Ready to join me America? Had enough potholes and parking meter maids? Or are you going to hold off for a while longer yet? After all, they say it’s going to be better soon.
Excuse me while I laugh.
I hope “Our leaders said it would all be OK” will suffice when it’s time to explain to our children why have to breathe air from tanks and can’t go outside anymore.
Enough.
Listen up, you state sanctioned terrorists in Washington DC, and listen well.
I am not a slave; to be drained of my life and pimped to whomever happens to be fucking you in Washington currently. My child is not a ” target” for whatever TV generated gadget you dream up. (Pokemon, Beanie Babies, Pogs, Tickle-me Elmo, Cabbage Patch Dolls, etc…) Why? So you can get a bigger yacht and hire more slaves to do your laundry and cook your food while you dream about how much money you stand to make by allowing more Coke and Pepsi vending machines into the local school?
I hope they’re paying you enough money to quiet your consciences.
I don’t have any money to buy you out, but I do have a message for you, and it does come straight from my heart. Here it is.
Fuck you.
Fuck You George Bush.
Fuck you Congress.
Enough. Where’s my pesticide soaked spinach? Because “I’ve had all I can stands and I can’t stands no more!”
Are you hearing me you state sanctioned criminals? Until you take me out, I will make it my life’s work to expose your bullshit. All of it.
You see, I want to be able to look my grandchild/ren in the eye thirty years from now. I want to be able to tell them I cared enough about their lives and their future to fight for an existence somewhat more rewarding than buying more plastic crap from Wal-Mart so some rich, white southern slave owner can buy himself another baseball team. Just what the world needs more of, rich white men trading the black ball players around like baseball cards, because they can’t get their “slave owner” fixes anymore now that the civil war’s over. (Technically, it is. No, I swear. That’s what they teach in school anyway.)
You see, I’d like to be able to do that.
For my child.
And if it’s not too much to ask from my government, I’d like to do it without skin cancer and an oxygen mask on.
Fuck you George.
Screw us while you can, ’cause we’re comin’ for your job.
We, the People. An actual government. Ring a bell?
Remember? That’s how it’s supposed to work, asshole.
Or was that one of the papers Daddy hired some real student at Yale to write for you?
Enough.
“Do You Mind if We Dance Wif’ Yo Dates?”
Forrest has a video!!!!!! Run Forrest, Run!
What makes the Alvin Greene story so compelling is it’s appeal to anyone who heretofore believed the denuded political system to be rigged airtight.
Not yet Bitches…
The criminals posing this year as South Carolina Election Officials better sink Lieutenant Dan’s Alvin Greene’s fishing expedition before November or else it’s time to…MEET YOUR NEWEST SENATOR!!!!
Regardless of outcome, history can’t help but now show that AG slipped undetected past the Senatorial gatekeepers disguised only in $10,400 cash (handwritten check- nice touch AG) and caught an alphabetized stroke of lightning hiding in a bottle of South Carolina moonshine.
No campaigning, no rallies, no baby kissing, no literature OR literacy even! – yet this unemployed vet who lives at home with no internet and… wait for it… no cellphone! , gulp…, this societal reject is now one Forrest Gump-ian moment away from bringing his half-full box o’ chocolates to the US Senate.
INT. OFFICE
FRED THOMPSON is at a cluttered desk, screaming into the phone that sits atop it….
“WHERE’S THE FUCKING OVERSIGHT COMMITTEE ON THIS? YOU BETTER SHRINK THAT HOOP DOWN A LITTLE FURTHER IN SC YOU IDIOTS! LOOPHOLES GODDAMN IT, I WANT LOOPHOLES!!!
If you need an inkling as to how fucked up South Carolina’s political system is, peep the article “Busted Flush” by David Plotz in Harper’s in August of ’99, or if that’s too much work just read this…
Even crazy chickens eventually somehow find their way home to roost, and while we all find the 280 lb. cuckoo bird (Cuckamungous Nocampaignous) now squishing the fence that separates South Carolina from planet legitimacy amusing, the smart money also finds it short lived…
The bottom line is that by the time sitting Senator (R) Jim Demint rolls up (R) South Carolina in November and catapults Alvin and his chipmunk cheeks back into obscurity (again), what Alvin did will already be rendered impossible. The red tape will be wound tighter still, ever more byzantine qualification bars will be raised and just like at any good carnival, the pins will be moved ever further back while the balls with which to disperse them made to be ever more lopsided until “no chance” equilibrium has been restored.
Sorry. No “winna winna,” no “chicken dinna,” no giant stuffed polar bear (not till the ice caps finish melting anyway) and certainly no publicly funded Senatorial tit for Bubba Gump to bounce checks on and suckle at the bosom of…
Alvin’s legacy will be that he was the last of the everyday schmoes to ever get within shouting distance of US Senate and his future will be as an curious attraction in history’s political sideshow, next to 1998′s Byron “Low Tax” Looper, 2000′s Mel Carnahan and the bearded lady, nothing more than circus freak that one perilous afternoon wandered harmlessly out of the communal “sheeple” pen we all now reside in and chew our cud of false hope from.
By November, order will have been restored, (long before there’s an actual “vote” in SC) the breached wall at the Senate’s old rich white guy castle repaired, and soon, the memory of Alvin Greene will be lost like the dinosaurs, layered under weeks and months of far more important internet Lohan/Gibson/Gore/Cyrus sediment… Ten years from now nobody but us political satirists and historians will remember that in the electoral weirdness that was the summer of 2010, the rigged systems’ most potentially subversive and dangerous character was also it’s dumbest and least likely…
I would give every crawdad in South Carolina to be wrong.
Run Forrest, run…
Author’s note: Personally, I would rank Alvin 3rd behind Looper and Carnahan both. The Ashcroft/Carnahan fiasco still takes the cake for top honors only because Ashcroft had a comfortable +/- 4 % lead UNTIL his opponent Carnahan died. It’s one thing to lose an election to a dead guy but when you lost BECAUSE your opponent died, well… that’s a whole ‘nuther story altogether.
Enjoy your full moon tonight…
— Arlo Stone, 7/25/2010