World making too much sense? Reality seeming a tad too comfortable? Want to see forbidden science at work, but don't want to bother with the messy side of biology? Check out http://www.kleinbottle.com/ Don't think about it for too long or you'll go mad staring at the abomination.

Okay, just about every idiot out there has heard that the Mayan calendar(which is supposedly startlingly accurate) either ends entirely or rolls over to another metacycle in 2012 or so, depending on who you're talking to. Well, you can add another crazy as fuck bunch of people to the list. There's some hippies out there who claim that we're actually a bunch of extraterrestrials who got stranded or something on Earth. I guess this rock is a big cosmic Stuckey's and humans are waiting for someone to pick up our reeking hitchhiker asses.

In 2012 or so, possibly not until 2017, the whole planet is going to enter a "photonic belt" and the whole place is going to get fried like a cheap burrito. When this happens, there'll be horrible catastrophes and we'll all be turned into cosmic space babies like the end of 2001. Whether or not we first have to rub against a shiny rock first is unknown. First, there's going to be a 'dead zone' that wipes out all our electronics for three days. Then, shortly after, it'll all start working again. But it'll be because of 'photonic energy,' which is apparently not a made-up concept. Then, we'll also get jacked up on this 'photonic energy' and will no longer require food, air, or even pants.

That's day two, by the way.

After the couple of days of darkness, it's going to be daylight ALL THE TIME for years. But I guess it won't drive everyone crazy and cancerous because we'll all be immortal and chock full of 'photonic energy.' Most people won't be able to take this space baby transformation and will die in the process of becoming wonderful godlike beings of happiness. This mostly includes Xtians and the like, people who aren't 'in tune' with the planet. Oh, and then aliens will help us all out with the transition. In the end, I hope this idea catches on just enough to spawn a whole stack of death cults that self-destruct in a violent manner. Hell, they don't have to be that violent as long as there's a sizable body count.

Mother of blessed whores, who comes up with this crap?

Sometimes, I am astounded by the intellect of my friends. Bruce42 and I were discussing the undead abomination that seems to have enthralled so many people with money and power. Yep, I'm referring to our Great Zombie Lord Jesus, who greedily watches the Earth until the time is right for him to lead his army of the "faithful" to conquer the world in the name of "peace." Bruce pointed out a very important fact: this Jesus fellow was anointed, killed, wrapped and laid to rest. His tomb was disturbed, his artifacts scattered across the globe and he rose again. He's not a zombie like I had thought. Indeed, we are most definitely facing a mummy.

If the mummy legends are true, we're in deep trouble. He should be very long-lived, which is probably why he hasn't come back yet. He's probably very slow-moving, but should possess an inhuman strength and stamina. Fire should work against him, depending upon his preparation methods. He probably has a command of sorcery and we're already aware of his homicidally-minded followers. If we're to be prepared for his strike, we should keep in mind his weaknesses, few though they may be. Fire is the bane of the mummy, but not much else tends to be effective. My bet is that it's best to let him pursue those who defiled his resting place and seek the return of his artifacts. Only then will he be satisfied and return to his tomb to continue his sleep of the ages. If it's been this long, he is going to be pissed. In preparation,

Bruce42 compiled a list of possible artifacts that he'll probably seek out: The Holy Grail The Cross The Shroud of Turin perhaps the Spear of Longinus If we're lucky, most of these will be in Europe. If not, perhaps the extended trek under the Atlantic on foot would explain why the curse of Jesus has taken such a long time to come down upon those who defiled his tomb.

Ten words in length? I'm already on that, sweet thang. I have to wonder sometimes. If a pregnant woman dies, does the undertaker charge for two embalmings? Would it be possible to get the guy to remove the fetorpse and bury it separately?

If you're the sort who believes the tumor was a person the moment you started screwing, it's probably not an unusual request. There are probably catalogs for tiny, fetus-sized coffins. And damn, are those expensive! You wouldn't think they would be, given the size. I mean, a coffee can would work perfectly and would probably smell better. If you had a sense of humor about the whole thing, you could probably use a One Whole Chicken can to do the job. You could probably leave the can open and no one would be able to tell the difference between your mulligan child and the original product. I'll bet you the bones would be just as flexible as one of those inexpensive stewed fryers.

Personally, I'd think that the whole procedure would be pretty straightforward so long as you cut the umbilical cord first. Once you've pumped someone full of embalming fluid and left the cord exposed, it'd get all brittle and shatter. It's also possible that it'd end up just stiff enough to pass for ropy jerky. Well, jerky that smells like formaldehyde. I'll bet anyone five bucks that you could slip one of those things unnoticed into the canister of beef sticks at the gas station. I suppose that if you got there early enough, you could get the coroner to save you the placenta.

God knows I would.

You wouldn't even need to come up with a flimsy excuse to get it. "It's going to be thrown away one way or another, so I might as well see how we taste." Heck, it's probably the same thing you'd say to the people in the delivery room if your sexmate hadn't washed down those pills with a fifth of vodka. I can imagine the post-funeral barbeque now. "Hey Ted, sorry about Darla. What's that delicious cut of meat you've got on the grill? Is that a hickory barbecue sauce?" "Well Jimbo, that's Darla's placenta. I was going to eat it after the child was born, but there's no sense in letting it go to waste now. Get a plate."

Though I have no intention of ever having cancer, I've already asked my friends to save the placenta for me if they ever decide to spawn. I bet it'll be delicious. Well, it certainly will be, once I give it a nice glaze and bake it till done. It also strikes me as odd that no one at a fetal funeral ever says "Hey honey, we all start off with tails! I'll be damned, perhaps there is something to this evolution thing after all." But I suppose that the ones most likely to bury their noisy parasites wouldn't ever make the connection.

Two bands exist that have an identical name, Prussian Blue. One looks like a bunch of hippies or something like that, I didn't pay too much attention to them. The other is far more interesting and I mean that in my usual sense of the word. The other Prussian Blue consists of two early teenage girls who sing about how they love being white. It's no longer White Supremacy, it's now White Nationalism. A favorite quote from an interview: "It seems like smart white girls who have good eugenics are more interested in making money in a career or partying than getting married and having a family. And yes, we are working on some new songs about this issue." Their parents are white supremacists and their father registered the swastika as his cattle brand.

Looking at the band's lyrics page, I was particularly amused by a song called Victory Day, a song about how white people need to go to war with the brown people. I guess the money, oil, land, guns, power, media and schools just aren't enough to save us from the evil brown people ...across the street. Oh, and Rudolph Hess was a "man of Peace" if you believe the song Sacrifice. Having hunted around the links on the Prussian Blue site, I found a pretty funny pro-white forum. Wow, a lot of people hate jews. A particular favorite was a guy who claimed that jews are smarter than white people, so we're all slaves to them. Oh, and white people are inherently stronger than jews so we should just beat them physically.

Oddly enough, another person claims that white people are smarter than the other races and that makes them superior. Those darn jews! I also found a racist record label that sells a PC game called Ethnic Cleansing. The description: "The Race War has begun. Your skin is your uniform in this battle for the survival of your kind. The White Race depends on you to secure its existence. Your peoples enemies surround you in a sea of decay and filth that they have brought to your once clean and White nation. Not one of their numbers shall be spared........" Perhaps I can find a pirated version. This game sounds too horrible not to play, but there's no way I'd give these people any money to amuse myself for about ten minutes.

Okay, we're having a Halloween party out at the estate. This matter is solely in my brother's hands, since I don't want to deal with the bother of it all. I, however, have a couple inspirations to deal with right now. So, I've decided to build us a wickerman for Halloween. We've got enough wood and brush that it shouldn't be a problem. I'd prefer that we stuff it with criminals, but that's not an option at this juncture. I went looking for more info and discovered that the wickerman is supposed to be a Beltaine tradition.

Fuck Beltaine and fuck tradition! I wanna set a gigantic effigy ablaze on Halloween and no damn hippie holiday in May is going to stop me. Looking at the fire ring, I'll probably have to expand that, too. We've got the cinderblock to do so, so it won't be too difficult to achieve. If only it weren't raining today. Desperately waiting to hear back from the TV station I interviewed at the other day. I want that job so freaking bad, I'll kick a puppy if I get hired.

A few weeks ago at work, I crushed a finger and the nail died. The old nail has finally been pushed out and disconnected itself from my digit. There's now a sad, rigid stump where I once had a nail. Just ask me, I'll show you the protonail. I'll admit to having a problem when it comes to temptation. I walked in Gamers today and left with a DS, the new Advance Wars, and Nintendogs. Yes, I got Nintendogs. For the time being, anyway. I now have an excessively cute dachshund made entirely of electrons. Most of the game uses the stylus instead of buttons and it works pretty well. Dual screens allow you to flip through menus without losing sight of the cute, yet fictional dog.

Thus far, Menchi knows his name and comes when called. He can also sit, which I taught him to do. The microphone picks up his name and commands pretty well so far, though it leads to noisy play sessions. "Menchi!" "Sit!" ""Bob," quit shouting. Are you still playing that game? You know, that's a really girly reason to get a DS. Why didn't you get a PSP?" "Fuck the PSP! If I wanted a crappy video player and no games for more money, I'd waste my cash on a portable DVD player. Then, I wouldn't have to re-buy Super Troopers to watch it."

Fuck you all, I'm going to keep my fictional puppy. Sure, it's just a virtual pet. It's Nintendo, so it's got a polish on it that Blizzard is envious of. The way the dog moves and responds to 'affection' is far too endearing to pass up. I totally need to see if I can use it to get chicks now. The PSP is crap. That's all you really need to know about it. For every good thing about it, there's a glaring flaw with the execution.

Good thing 1: It plays movies. Flipside: You have to pay full retail for your movies again and it'll never play on anything else.

Good thing 2: It's got a really nice screen. Flipside: They've been taking back units with defective screens since release. Something about dead pixels.

Good thing 3: Sony can buy a lot of third-party titles. Flipside: How many good games for the PSP have you heard about? My point exactly.

Good thing 4: It's got stuff. Flipside: I dropped about $150 for a used DS and two used games. A used PSP with nothing else was $200. I could get the competing handheld and four games at the cost of the PSP, all on the used market. It's pretty close to that if I buy them new, as well.

Good thing 5: It's got a USB port. Flipside: Sony goes out of their way to make homebrew applications unusable with every firmware update.

Good thing 6: It plays video. Flipside: When it launched, the PSP played a few common video file formats. This was stopped with the aforementioned "updates." God forbid the consumer can USE the device for purposes that don't require handing money to Sony.

I also have Advance Wars: Dual Strike. I expect to be in battle for the forseeable future. Since the game contains all the maps from AW 1 and 2, you may miss me.

Currently watching an early Clinton-era film on the "Homosexual Agenda." I had no idea we were so rich, powerful or insidious. Trent Lott is featured in this, I'm not making it up. I'd rather like to hook up with whoever it is that's in charge of this sodomy-based old boy network. I've certainly never been approached by the shadowy homosexual power structure and I'm rather insulted by the fact. There's even a gay rights march with people chanting "We're here, we're queer, we're going to rule the world." As one AIDS patient and former homosexual said, "God has healed me of that need to have an emotional bond with other men." Somehow, I don't think God felt like curing you of that AIDS, so you must not be that much better off.

Modern day miracle? Not even close.

It wouldn't surprise me if there ended up being a patron saint of abruptly reversed sexuality. I envision something like Saint Flora of Fransisco, who saw an angel of the Lord and was inspired to quit the carpet-munching and get married. Eventually, there was a Saint Patrick style driving out of the homosexuals of San Fransisco, so that musical theater could be enjoyed by families who didn't want to walk past the swishy people in the lobby. Years after her death, numerous 'miracle' conversions to heterosexuality were deemed to a be a good reason for canonization. Eventually, there'd be medals to tuck into a child's underwear for protection and even an Irish drinking holiday.