June 22, 2010
June 19, 2010
Almost as good as Darth Vader's blog
@ImperialDesigner: That trench leads right to the exhaust port. How'd I miss that? LOL, my bad!@ImperialDesigner: @Clone4371: What do you mean, anyone can read this? @ImperialDesigner: ...Oh F*$&! I'm outta here!
Touring the forest moon. Getting back to nature. Singing around the bonfire.
Wondering whither Luke Skywalker. Musings on my reign to come.
I have spent the day touring our facilities on the Sanctuary Moon from which we emit the invisible energy-condom that protects the still incomplete Death Star orbiting above. This world is an explosion of life, every inch teeming with creeping vines and scurrying insects and rustling leaves. Our tour ended up at the stormtrooper garrison where General Veers was hosting a barbecue.
"Have you tried one of these Ewoks, m'lord?" asked Admiral Piett, offering me a crisp kebab. "Delectable!"
Veers himself was surrounded by a cadre of identical troopers holding their helmets in one hand and their drinks in the other. "Lord Vader!" Veers greeted me. "I'm so glad you could join us. Did somebody get you an Ewok?"
"I'm fine, just fine," I assured him. "Your forces seem to be in excellent shape, General."
"Thank you, my Lord," he smiled. "Have you met Lieutenant Twenty-Six? He's responsible for the new drills we've been using to tighten up the scout platoons."
"How do you do?" I said, shaking the cloned trooper's hand briefly. He nodded respectfully. To Veers I quipped, "How do you tell them apart?"
Everyone had a good laugh over that.
While the men kibbitzed I took a stroll through the nearby glen. I cannot remember the smell of the world anymore, but with my boots stepping through the bracken underbrush and with the dappled sunlight playing over my helmet I can almost fathom was it was like to know scent.
Twigs snapped and I paused. Animals were about -- animals with minds. When I closed my eyes I could discern their wispy spirits sparkling behind the glow of the thoughtless canopy. They had smelled the meat of their kin and it set their hearts racing, dreaming of revenge. But they scampered before my shadow. I moved on, pushing through the bush.
I came to a rise overlooking a shallow ravine in which was situated the auxiliary entrance to the shield generator bunker. I considered: why a back door?
When I returned to the clearing I asked General Veers about it. "The Emperor specified it," he told me. "As you can see, my Lord, the auxiliary entrance lies just to the west of that rocky cache. His Excellency has commanded me to station a legion of walkers behind the ridge at all times..."
"Go on, General."
"Loath as I am to speculate, my Lord, I can only assume the Emperor is baiting a trap for rebel spies."
The General may be on to something, for there is movement in the Force. Even now I sense a restlessness in the galaxy, a yearning of hyperspace to eject matters on our very threshold. I meditated on this growing disturbance as the men stuck a fresh Ewok on the spit and lowered it over the fire.
"Doesn't that smell great?" whistled Lieutenant 26.
The sun set and the party became more boisterous. Several of the men took turns leading the others in rounds of song. I declined when asked, but made a special request for the classic popular anthem Burn, Rebel, Burn which they took up with enthusiasm. In listening to the lyric carefully I developed a theory that the song may in fact be ironic, but I am a bad judge of such things: from my point of view most popular music these days seems to be a joke on its audience.
"Where's Moff Jerjerrod?" I asked.
"Back on the Death Star crying because no one invited him," chuckled Admiral Piett, his arm around his new yeoman.
"Does nobody like that guy?"
General Veers shook his head emphatically and everybody laughed. I knew where they were coming from. The man is annoying. If the Emperor himself had not forbidden me from crushing Jerjerrod's trachea with my mind I can assure you today's barbecue would also have been a merry wake.
The air was alive with the chirping of insects.
I looked upon the bonfire blazing into the forest night and felt a shiver run down my spine and into my cybernetics, though I know not why...
Now I have returned to the Death Star to finalize preparations for arrival tomorrow of my master Darth Sidious. I know he blinds me to his designs in the affairs that the Force tells me are threatening to unfurl here at Endor, and it makes me feel so very alone. Can it be that yet another man who has pretended at being a father forsakes me?
I am too willing to stand in another man's shadow, to win his approval.
Tomorrow I shall pierce his fog with my focused vision when he comes here. I shall know his mind and yet mine will remain a placid pond to him, the mirror surface giving no hint of what eddies churn within.
Too long have I been the learner. I must now prepare myself for my future, when I am the Dark Master. I cannot afford to be negative -- I have to know Luke will turn. He will come to study the Sith way from me. It is the only interpretation of the prophecy that makes sense!
Though I have devotedly worked for his love and bowed to his reign, I admit to you I will smile when Palpatine dies. My whole life I have waited to stop being somebody's padawan.
I am ready for bed. I have to stop journaling. Big day tomorrow. And yet...I sense something -- a perturbance in the Force I have not felt since...
Deep in space, I feel the strings of the Force grow taut. The Emperor is not the only gifted one traveling to this moon. There is another. Skywalker!
They come together to clash, and thereby make me Emperor.
Soon this will be Darth Vader's galaxy, and the people will willingly raise statues of my gargoyle face in celebration of an era of stability and order like no other the worlds have ever known.
In anticipation of portraiture, I applied a fair gob of Boba Fett's new skin cream before I clapped off the light and lay down to sleep, the air whistling soothingly through the ventilators of my hyperbaric chamber.
June 17, 2010
June 13, 2010
There is good reason to believe four older female teachers were fired from an upper-crust Fort Lauderdale private school in a bid to replace them with younger, buxom women, a federal civil rights agency has found.
The U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission issued letters this summer, saying it had determined Brooks had a list of about 25 positions he planned to eliminate, and had repeatedly expressed "his intentions to replace 'all the older women with young women with big boobs.''"
The Rev. William "Dub" Brooks, 58, headmaster of St. Mark's Episcopal School, has been accused by the dismissed teachers of age discrimination. They are demanding their jobs back.
I'm thinking if you are going to try and build your own harem of big boobed women at the office it probably isn't a good idea to brag about it, but on the other hand it may have greatly improved student attendanace.
Yes, it's old. but it's new to me so :-P~~~~~
June 11, 2010
(Some F-bombs, for those of you under the thumb of The Man.)
June 09, 2010
with bonus puking video:
June 08, 2010
Update: The season finale wasn't even until the next week. I hope she missed it because she thought the series was over on the 19th.
May 19, 2010
May 12, 2010
Most people have known that, as well as the fact that he is a sock-puppeteer, for some time, but sometimes you have to smack Huffington Post contributors with a very large clue bat before they can figure things out.
For Lawrence Lessig that smack was Greenwald calling him a liar after Lessig challenged him on some of his statements regarding Elena Kagan.
But Greenwald was not a fan of Kagan. He and I exchanged a number of emails about his views of Kagan. I thought his criticism of her was mistaken. But as I acknowledged to him, and in "print," the source of my judgment is my own private experience. And that private experience is no doubt not evidence for others. So I can well understand skepticism and questions, especially when someone is being appointed for life to such a critical job.
What struck me yesterday as I researched the issue, however, was how hyperbolic Glenn's campaign had become.
So I called Greenwald on that on Rachel Maddow's show last night. I said I had enormous respect for Greenwald's work. But that his hyperbole needed to be "checked." And much of my ten minutes or so was devoted to pointing out the incompleteness in Glenn's raging campaign to discredit the president's nominee to the Supreme Court.
This morning Glenn responded to my challenging his hyperbole by calling me a liar. I had "spew[ed] total falsehoods on TV," he claimed.
Funny, funny stuff.
April 24, 2010
It's about funny as he notes some of the.... problems with the staff.
Many employees begin to complain about Lori's distinct "pelvic odor." I am too distracted by her crystal meth smile to notice.
Dee hasn't shown up for a week because her husband pushed her into a plate glass window. No one knows what to put on the attendance sheet.
During lunch, Alonzo slams his girlfriend's head into a keyboard. I immediately wonder how long it will take the I.T. guy to replace it.
It's funny because it's not me.
I forget where I saw this. Sorry.
April 22, 2010
April 18, 2010
How is Ashley Dupre like "The Terminator"? They're both known for having a governor in them.Treach also links the NYPost photospread of Dupre.
April 09, 2010
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
There are some good ones in the list. Feel free to offer your own competition.
April 07, 2010
April 03, 2010
Looking for a sappy, cliched, novel to read? One predictable as most young-adult books and more degrading than harlequin romances? Well, To Kill a Mockingbird is your book.
It is because of this horrid book that I eat sausage every morning and tell my dad to kill every spider I see. It is a traumatic, coma-enducing story that has changed my life forever.
Man, this book is boring. All this weird stuff happens and it's harder to get into than Lord of the Rings. And what's up with the red writing and the LORD says stuff. All caps = rude, peter paul and mark, whoever the heck you are. And this is just badly written. James Patterson could do better. These apostles need to get a clue and hire a ghost writer. Even Miley Cyrus's manager was smart enough to do that. Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ, indeed.
More Messed up the fold but fixed it. Just color me stupid.
March 31, 2010
Someone with access to Ace needs to get him to post this it is just too priceless to only be here and Riehl World View. It must be shared with the world.(I wonder how Charles Johnson will work this into his Democrats are the party of science and reason spiel?)
Never mind once I refreshed AoS and got of the comment threads it was already there.
March 16, 2010
... presented entirely without context:
"The accused got to his feet and was standing over the police officer exposing his penis and thrusting it in her face, forcing her to take evasive action to avoid getting struck."
March 14, 2010
My SL husband is cheating on me with a Bisexual Skunk Furry and is asking for a divorce. And we only got married half an hour ago!!It really stinks when your fantasy life is as messed up as your real one.
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