Antonin Scaley's black-robed possee dealt terrorist-huggers everywhere a major setback.
Ruling 6 good to 3 not-invited-next-time, the Court ruled that if you give a terrorist group advice or training, you are just as bad as they are.
Scaley's nominal Chief Justice, John Roberts ("Jon-Bob" to friends of this blog), was assigned to write down Scaleys' thoughts on the matter.
Justice Stephen Breyer ("the Ice Man", for obvious reasons), was allowed to disagree in public. The Ice Man read his dissent aloud so FOX Spews would not lose the text completely.
TBO sent some minions to agree with Scaley's view, although it is not clear where he could find any. Through them, TBO claimed that "material support", under the Be Unkind To Terrorists statute, meant pretty much anything. TBO now has more power over Americans that Dick Cheney or The Alice of the Tea Party of Wonderland, Sarah Palin.
According to Jon-Bob, here's it works. TBO scans the globe (Mars starts next term. And ha ha). He then points a finger at a bunch of Sihks, say, singing acapella to their favorite candidate on a Charleston, SC street corner. That is enough to designate them as a terrorist group, even if TBO was just indicating that he liked the hue of the lead singer's raghe... turban.
Now that, the group is a designated terrorist group, they are off limits for any training or advice, because anything that helps the terrorists, ups their morale, makes them happy--or even less miserable--or better informed is now a waterboarding offence.
Examples Jo-Bob probably meant would be:
Showing a terrorist how to inflate his new Nike's on the subway;
Teaching a terrorist how to surrender;
Giving any New York cabbie directions to Yankee Stadium;
Paying any New York cabbie;
Adding terrorists to your nightly prayer list;
Putting a soaking wet towel on your head in 99 degree heat;
Suggesting, just in passing, that a terrorist consider making peace with infidels;
Broadcasting Sean Hannity (no, wait, it said "better informed");
Showing stills of any Megan Fox scene in which she wears a boostier in "Jonus Hex";
Showing stills of Megan and Brian Austin Green with BAG's face photoshopped out and replaced with that or your favorite blogger;
Explaining a Scaley Court decision;
Offering a terrorist five tiny pretzels on a three-hour USAirways flight that will connect through Philadelphia to anywhere useful;
Feel free to add ideas in comments below. Do not worry, though, no terrorists read this blog, because it seems to be a big damned secret.
Showing posts with label TBO. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TBO. Show all posts
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Afghanistan Idiot: We Know What's Worth Fighting For
Face it. Do you or Green Day really care about Afghanistan or its combative tribes? Iraq, now that had oil worth fighting for. Afghanistan has what? Plants.
Of course, they should have democracy, burqas by Donna Karen, used voting machines from South Carolina and an American air base. They should be free to press, process and ship-by-super-tanker all the Poppy Juice Cocktail American can drink, too. They can make those nice throws and dogs, as well.
But, they are still pretty much Muslims who don't want infidels, largely and recently ambivalent about Muslims, shooting up their mountains, deserts and thorougfares. Not just Natoans, but Russians, as they indicated pretty well in the 1980's.
America and its willing allies really ventured into Afghanistan (damn it, not "invaded") to catch one guy, Osama bin Laden and break up his day camp network. The Taliban were simply so obsessed with Buddha shards and repurposing soccer stadiums that they missed the significance of one particular September in New York and, consequently, had to be shown both the boot and the door. Which door, unfortunately, led them back to Pakistan's mountains where they settled in next to Osama himself and where the Paki Intelligence Service just couldn't see them.
But really. Afghanistan?
Oh, my. How all that has changed.
Suddenly, under all the craggy hills, velcro-jamming sand, motley goats and prayer rugs Afghanistan is rich. Trillion dollars in minerals we need rich.
In a country where almost half the population lives on less per day than it cost to buy your Starbuck's latte on that day; where more than a third of $13 Billion in GDP comes from poppy juice and its derivatives. And that gaudy GDP is about 20% of what the US spends in shooting up the montains, deserts and both thoroughfares there.
The US Geological Survey, under contract with Harmid Karzai (but hopefully not his cleverer brother, Ahmid), found lots of gold, copper, iron ore and other mundane minerals. Like iron ore is worth an hour of drone fuel. True, but that's not the sexy stuff.
Sexy? Afghanistan? The camel vacation spot where Mullah Monocle made the guys where scraggly beards and the women head-to-toe draperies?
Can you spell Lithium?
No, not as in the med you just refilled. For batteries. The bass-drum-beating bunny things we're just beginning to need. For Priuses and their electric cousins; for storing solar energy where the sun don't shine and wind power when your flag flags. For our army of iPads and Droids. For crystal meth manu... Well, lots of important stuff.
Trying to revolutionize energy without Lithium is like trying to have a beach party without BP.
Ironically, TBO, just tonight, after asking the very same BP for some cash, has called on all Americans--except Dick Cheney--to gear up, seriously this time, for the green energy revolution. Like it was a big-time war or something. Our Green Day is upon us (to complete a quasi theme). And guess what afterthought is suddenly front and center in that Green Day revolution, at least until solar cells can run on moonlight. That would be long after your Lithium-driven pacemaker quits one last time.
Not a question, this time: Afghanistan.
That's almost like a big-time war already.
Of course, they should have democracy, burqas by Donna Karen, used voting machines from South Carolina and an American air base. They should be free to press, process and ship-by-super-tanker all the Poppy Juice Cocktail American can drink, too. They can make those nice throws and dogs, as well.
But, they are still pretty much Muslims who don't want infidels, largely and recently ambivalent about Muslims, shooting up their mountains, deserts and thorougfares. Not just Natoans, but Russians, as they indicated pretty well in the 1980's.
America and its willing allies really ventured into Afghanistan (damn it, not "invaded") to catch one guy, Osama bin Laden and break up his day camp network. The Taliban were simply so obsessed with Buddha shards and repurposing soccer stadiums that they missed the significance of one particular September in New York and, consequently, had to be shown both the boot and the door. Which door, unfortunately, led them back to Pakistan's mountains where they settled in next to Osama himself and where the Paki Intelligence Service just couldn't see them.
But really. Afghanistan?
Oh, my. How all that has changed.
Suddenly, under all the craggy hills, velcro-jamming sand, motley goats and prayer rugs Afghanistan is rich. Trillion dollars in minerals we need rich.
In a country where almost half the population lives on less per day than it cost to buy your Starbuck's latte on that day; where more than a third of $13 Billion in GDP comes from poppy juice and its derivatives. And that gaudy GDP is about 20% of what the US spends in shooting up the montains, deserts and both thoroughfares there.
The US Geological Survey, under contract with Harmid Karzai (but hopefully not his cleverer brother, Ahmid), found lots of gold, copper, iron ore and other mundane minerals. Like iron ore is worth an hour of drone fuel. True, but that's not the sexy stuff.
Sexy? Afghanistan? The camel vacation spot where Mullah Monocle made the guys where scraggly beards and the women head-to-toe draperies?
Can you spell Lithium?
No, not as in the med you just refilled. For batteries. The bass-drum-beating bunny things we're just beginning to need. For Priuses and their electric cousins; for storing solar energy where the sun don't shine and wind power when your flag flags. For our army of iPads and Droids. For crystal meth manu... Well, lots of important stuff.
Trying to revolutionize energy without Lithium is like trying to have a beach party without BP.
Ironically, TBO, just tonight, after asking the very same BP for some cash, has called on all Americans--except Dick Cheney--to gear up, seriously this time, for the green energy revolution. Like it was a big-time war or something. Our Green Day is upon us (to complete a quasi theme). And guess what afterthought is suddenly front and center in that Green Day revolution, at least until solar cells can run on moonlight. That would be long after your Lithium-driven pacemaker quits one last time.
Not a question, this time: Afghanistan.
That's almost like a big-time war already.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Huge US Debt Resolved by Vitrually Everything(tm)
The USA is slimed with more debt than BP is briny crude.
The The Big O's central goverment has a deficit is in the trillions and Congress won't let the pentagon cut its own spending. California's debt is considered junk, being under the cloud of a single European accent. Florida may not be able to afford this year's Tar Ball festival, even with sponsorship by BP and taxes from booming boom sales. Consumers? Hopeless Visa card addicts.
Or, more properly, formerly hopeless.
It has happened before, so you have come to expect it: This Blog proposes the solution: Its own nano$, naturally, but especially Virtually Everything(tm), an idea so evolutionary, it is trademarked.
Everyone knows that a lot of Virtual Goods are being sold, largely through Facebook. You can buy a virtual puppy and send it to your Facebook friend. (Oh. You can have more than one?) Remember, it has always been the thought that counts, not the actual dumb, slobbering, newspaper-averse (and how trendy?) litte darling.
Virtual greeting cards came first, which makes sense, because some of the bigggest card days are completely made up, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Pi Day and Valentine's Day come to mind. Others are simply bogus, like Groundhog Day, President's Day and Patriot's Day in (come on now) Massachusetts. So getting a card for a made-up day was pretty much Wastebasket Day. With virtual cards, at least there was no need to cut down a forest or set aside the newspaper you didn't actually use either to recycle.
Now, you can send any virtual Friend a gift that, likewise, will not take up shelf space, get wrinkled in a closet or claw your furniture legs. Send a virtual pony, which doesn't even have virtual claws. Or the ultimate gift, for now anyway: A virtual diamond necklace. It's virtue is that you won't have to keep in a safe deposit box (like who has one of those) when you don't wear it, which is all the time, since Red Carpet types don't want Harry Winstons getting eyed lustfully instead of the cleavage they paid so much for.
All well and good, an economy of completely made up values. Been there and 2008'ed that.
Serioulsy, this new Virtually Anything Economy, is better than the one Goldman Sachs dreamed up. Using nano$ as the payment mechanism, people will feel virtually super-rich. Face it, having Ten Billion anything stored away in a Fidelity-Division-of-Facebook account or under your iPad makes you feel damned wealthy. The fact that it is only ten US dollars, or can't quite buy a box of real Merlot, gets kind of lost in all the zeroes.
When people feel rich, they binge on both real and virtual stuff. Value is only a mindset, when you think about. A week ago, your "Transformers 3" advance ticket was worth $1000; now you have to pay the landfill to bury it. One day, mortgage derivatives were worth however many trillions Goldman Sachs told Hank Paulson (pardon the redundancy) they were worth; the next day? Less than an NFL cornerback outside of New York.
It is not like using nano$ for virtual currency is cheating anyone. The name "nano" sounds so Greek that it actually is. And everyone, absolutely everyone, knows what Greek money is worth.
But how does the government use the reptillions of nano$ generated by the New Virtual Economy to eliminate its debt? Relax, that part was just awaiting the inevitable "V" reference.
With nano$-addled buyers driving up the values of Virtually Everything, just like Vegas sand-front lots used to be, the government can start repaying debt, not with tons of gold, acres of over-harvested national forests or dozens of cute puppies and ponies, but with Virtually Everything. It's like printing money you don't have, but, again, no carboniverous trees have to be sacrifiecd in the real world and you can go back to using your shredded office paper for mulch.
Future 30-year US Bonds can actually be denominated from the outset in Virtually Anything (a subset of Virtually Everything). Virtual gold bullion is obvious, but more creative things will work, too. My current favorite is Virtual close-to-the-Naples-beach condos, complete with screen saver of the pre-BP Gulf of Mexico. Including in a Virtual tan app, or for some, a duo of virtual implants, to make your video-chat-self look really hot but without the need for medical help. (Come on, bid; this is really important!)
Every Facebook account will be a Monopoly Board with a hotel on every corner, including the Jail, and it's all yours. Can't beat that "wealth effect".
TBO can start tomorrow. And should. Redeem the next bonds coming due with new Virtual nano$ bonds or pay them off, say, with Virtual Blood Diamonds. Rich people crave imported dirty money, since they think it is like wholesale. Speaking of dirty money, an underground virtual economy is already in place thanks to Grand Theft Auto IX.
As innovative as this sounds, its fundamentals are really something the US government mastered a long time ago.
The coup de grace is not new, either. Thanks to Virtually Everything, Facebook will become the new Goldman Sachs, but honest. It will be the clearing house for the entire new Virtually Everything Economy. Its stock will soar into the godzillions. Right then, of course, TBO springs something that comes oh so naturally: He can nationalize Facebook like this is Venezuela.
And when Warren Buffet wants to buy in? "Virtual, my ass."
The The Big O's central goverment has a deficit is in the trillions and Congress won't let the pentagon cut its own spending. California's debt is considered junk, being under the cloud of a single European accent. Florida may not be able to afford this year's Tar Ball festival, even with sponsorship by BP and taxes from booming boom sales. Consumers? Hopeless Visa card addicts.
Or, more properly, formerly hopeless.
It has happened before, so you have come to expect it: This Blog proposes the solution: Its own nano$, naturally, but especially Virtually Everything(tm), an idea so evolutionary, it is trademarked.
Everyone knows that a lot of Virtual Goods are being sold, largely through Facebook. You can buy a virtual puppy and send it to your Facebook friend. (Oh. You can have more than one?) Remember, it has always been the thought that counts, not the actual dumb, slobbering, newspaper-averse (and how trendy?) litte darling.
Virtual greeting cards came first, which makes sense, because some of the bigggest card days are completely made up, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Pi Day and Valentine's Day come to mind. Others are simply bogus, like Groundhog Day, President's Day and Patriot's Day in (come on now) Massachusetts. So getting a card for a made-up day was pretty much Wastebasket Day. With virtual cards, at least there was no need to cut down a forest or set aside the newspaper you didn't actually use either to recycle.
Now, you can send any virtual Friend a gift that, likewise, will not take up shelf space, get wrinkled in a closet or claw your furniture legs. Send a virtual pony, which doesn't even have virtual claws. Or the ultimate gift, for now anyway: A virtual diamond necklace. It's virtue is that you won't have to keep in a safe deposit box (like who has one of those) when you don't wear it, which is all the time, since Red Carpet types don't want Harry Winstons getting eyed lustfully instead of the cleavage they paid so much for.
All well and good, an economy of completely made up values. Been there and 2008'ed that.
Serioulsy, this new Virtually Anything Economy, is better than the one Goldman Sachs dreamed up. Using nano$ as the payment mechanism, people will feel virtually super-rich. Face it, having Ten Billion anything stored away in a Fidelity-Division-of-Facebook account or under your iPad makes you feel damned wealthy. The fact that it is only ten US dollars, or can't quite buy a box of real Merlot, gets kind of lost in all the zeroes.
When people feel rich, they binge on both real and virtual stuff. Value is only a mindset, when you think about. A week ago, your "Transformers 3" advance ticket was worth $1000; now you have to pay the landfill to bury it. One day, mortgage derivatives were worth however many trillions Goldman Sachs told Hank Paulson (pardon the redundancy) they were worth; the next day? Less than an NFL cornerback outside of New York.
It is not like using nano$ for virtual currency is cheating anyone. The name "nano" sounds so Greek that it actually is. And everyone, absolutely everyone, knows what Greek money is worth.
But how does the government use the reptillions of nano$ generated by the New Virtual Economy to eliminate its debt? Relax, that part was just awaiting the inevitable "V" reference.
With nano$-addled buyers driving up the values of Virtually Everything, just like Vegas sand-front lots used to be, the government can start repaying debt, not with tons of gold, acres of over-harvested national forests or dozens of cute puppies and ponies, but with Virtually Everything. It's like printing money you don't have, but, again, no carboniverous trees have to be sacrifiecd in the real world and you can go back to using your shredded office paper for mulch.
Future 30-year US Bonds can actually be denominated from the outset in Virtually Anything (a subset of Virtually Everything). Virtual gold bullion is obvious, but more creative things will work, too. My current favorite is Virtual close-to-the-Naples-beach condos, complete with screen saver of the pre-BP Gulf of Mexico. Including in a Virtual tan app, or for some, a duo of virtual implants, to make your video-chat-self look really hot but without the need for medical help. (Come on, bid; this is really important!)
Every Facebook account will be a Monopoly Board with a hotel on every corner, including the Jail, and it's all yours. Can't beat that "wealth effect".
TBO can start tomorrow. And should. Redeem the next bonds coming due with new Virtual nano$ bonds or pay them off, say, with Virtual Blood Diamonds. Rich people crave imported dirty money, since they think it is like wholesale. Speaking of dirty money, an underground virtual economy is already in place thanks to Grand Theft Auto IX.
As innovative as this sounds, its fundamentals are really something the US government mastered a long time ago.
The coup de grace is not new, either. Thanks to Virtually Everything, Facebook will become the new Goldman Sachs, but honest. It will be the clearing house for the entire new Virtually Everything Economy. Its stock will soar into the godzillions. Right then, of course, TBO springs something that comes oh so naturally: He can nationalize Facebook like this is Venezuela.
And when Warren Buffet wants to buy in? "Virtual, my ass."
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Proximania(tm): Okay, We'll Talk Past Each Other
Indirect talks have been okayed in Proximania(tm), at least by the Arab Proximates (or as some would say The Later Immigrants). The Israeli Proximates (or The Earlier Immigrants) have always been willing to hold indrect talks with their fellow Proximates, preferably over a wall.
This Blog has discussed the Proximania issues often enough, probably fourth only to Toyota, Arizona and Megan Fox, not in order of importance or preference. Indeed, this Blog might rightly claim the next Nobel-Obama Peace Prize for easing Proximania tensions with the invention of the catchy new trademark for the region itself.
(Feel free to tweet a nomination at @Nobelprize_org for the Peace Prize, the fiction prize being all but locked up--pun intended--by Arizona.)
The thriving construction industry in certain parts of Jerusalem has been annoying to a lot of Proximates, but apparently, the American President, The Big O--who discretely implied he might just claim all of Proximania himself through his Kenyan ancestors, who really were there first--has prevailed upon PLO (Proximania Left Overs) President Mahmoud Abbas to defer foreclosure proceedings for now.
The indirect talks will be held any place other than Jerusalem or Gaza. Two comfortable chairs will be placed back to back, but not touching. American envoy (French for "Oy, send someone else") George Mitchell will have two small wooden chairs, one opposite each of the Proximate's nicer chairs. George will dance in a prescribed circle until the music stops and sit in the closest of his chairs. The specific dance will be chosen by George's boss' wife, Lady O.
Dancing in an elipse would be more efficient, but the position of the two pins, the length of the string and hardness of the pencil, all needed to draw the ellipse properly, could not be worked out during the Bush Years of Desert Wandering and many indirect indirect, low-level meetings. Maybe two of them.
Once George (the Mitchell one, again) is seated, the party opposite him will talk in his direction for an unspecified time. The music will begin again at a random--like the Oscars--and George will rise and boogie off again. Because the music should reflect the spirit of the occasion, one song each will be chosen by the two Proximate representatives. The choices will be made from the songs of ELO (which sounds as close to PLO as you can get), but only from their Camp David Era (late '70's) and "Xanadu" work. These will then be alternately be played over and over again by the renowned, if rarely enjoyed, International Strings-Attached Quartet.
All major issues will be open for indirect discussion: The history of Jerusalem; putting a subway under the Wailing Wall and the Dome of the Rock; rate of return; who has the better religion; which way is faster to heaven, via Jerusalem or non-stop from Mecca; rebuilding Solomon's Temple, but on casters; iPad usage; the cause of earthquakes; how to domesticate Hamas.
These historic talks will continue as until all issues are fully resolved and peace is declared or George can no longer stand all the disco'ing to ELO in perfect circles.
Suggested name for the talks: The Hustle.
This Blog has discussed the Proximania issues often enough, probably fourth only to Toyota, Arizona and Megan Fox, not in order of importance or preference. Indeed, this Blog might rightly claim the next Nobel-Obama Peace Prize for easing Proximania tensions with the invention of the catchy new trademark for the region itself.
(Feel free to tweet a nomination at @Nobelprize_org for the Peace Prize, the fiction prize being all but locked up--pun intended--by Arizona.)
The thriving construction industry in certain parts of Jerusalem has been annoying to a lot of Proximates, but apparently, the American President, The Big O--who discretely implied he might just claim all of Proximania himself through his Kenyan ancestors, who really were there first--has prevailed upon PLO (Proximania Left Overs) President Mahmoud Abbas to defer foreclosure proceedings for now.
The indirect talks will be held any place other than Jerusalem or Gaza. Two comfortable chairs will be placed back to back, but not touching. American envoy (French for "Oy, send someone else") George Mitchell will have two small wooden chairs, one opposite each of the Proximate's nicer chairs. George will dance in a prescribed circle until the music stops and sit in the closest of his chairs. The specific dance will be chosen by George's boss' wife, Lady O.
Dancing in an elipse would be more efficient, but the position of the two pins, the length of the string and hardness of the pencil, all needed to draw the ellipse properly, could not be worked out during the Bush Years of Desert Wandering and many indirect indirect, low-level meetings. Maybe two of them.
Once George (the Mitchell one, again) is seated, the party opposite him will talk in his direction for an unspecified time. The music will begin again at a random--like the Oscars--and George will rise and boogie off again. Because the music should reflect the spirit of the occasion, one song each will be chosen by the two Proximate representatives. The choices will be made from the songs of ELO (which sounds as close to PLO as you can get), but only from their Camp David Era (late '70's) and "Xanadu" work. These will then be alternately be played over and over again by the renowned, if rarely enjoyed, International Strings-Attached Quartet.
All major issues will be open for indirect discussion: The history of Jerusalem; putting a subway under the Wailing Wall and the Dome of the Rock; rate of return; who has the better religion; which way is faster to heaven, via Jerusalem or non-stop from Mecca; rebuilding Solomon's Temple, but on casters; iPad usage; the cause of earthquakes; how to domesticate Hamas.
These historic talks will continue as until all issues are fully resolved and peace is declared or George can no longer stand all the disco'ing to ELO in perfect circles.
Suggested name for the talks: The Hustle.
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