Glob-a-log

Yesterday, in the Gaza strip - but no.

Why settle for boring real world news when we have the three graces - who will, I’m very much afraid, always be with us:

So, today Britney Spears announced that she will ask her fans to help her choose a title for her next album. She also suggested that this album might be dedicated to her friend, Lindsay Lohan. That does make a certain sense - and it could open the door to an even broader, future naming & shaming collaboration.

So, Spears could call her new Lohan album Hung out to dry.

Lohan should then also consider starting a singing career and dedicate her debut album to that other girlfriend, Paris Hilton. This album could then be called Jail bird - or Jailhouse Rock Bottom.

Then, to complete the cycle, Paris Hilton could make a Britney album, called The bald and the beautiful.

After this the three of them could then work together on an R&B opera, based on Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

I can’t wait for the Youtube clip of their first hit single, Three sisters:

Paris: Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
Lyndsay: Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin’d.
Britney: Harpier cries:—’tis time! ’tis time!

Paris: Round about the caldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot!

All: Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Lyndsay: Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

All: Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Britney: Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg’d i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.

All: Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

Lyndsay: Cool it with a baboon’s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

The police chief of a small sea resort near Nineveh has asked the press and members of the public to cooperate with the authorities in helping to locate a fugitive from justice.

For legal reasons the full name of the man can not be made public at this stage of the investigation but the public has been warned not to approach this man, who is right now only known as J.

Amongst other things, the police wants to question the man about a vehicle, found abandoned near the beach.

Several witnesses have stated that they saw the man climb out of it.

J. is suspected of reckless driving, vehicular assault and leaving the scene of a crime.

Charges of littering may also be brought at a later stage.

Yesterday, in a not very surprising move, the Roman Catholic church asked all its members to stop supporting Amnesty International.

Amnesty has dared to suggest that incest - or women dying while giving birth - or rape isn’t very nice. So, the organisation now thinks that in certain, limited circumstances abortion should be an option open to all women.

This, of course, to the RC church is anathema.

Their call to boycott Amnesty, is, in other words, eminently understandable, when you consider the church’s teachings and its time-honoured principles.

Ultimately, on this, the church’s position is comparable to the one it held in 1933, when it called on all German Roman Catholics not to vote for Adolf Hitler and to withhold all support for his Nazi party.

Ah, yes, sorry: the RC church didn’t do that.

Well, that just proves that Amnesty International is way more evil than Hitler and his Nazi party ever were…

…for the church is never wrong.

So there!

“I have challenged myself to explain what has happened but still I just cannot remember. This has caused much anguish to me and will do for the rest of my life.”

Our hearts bleed. it’s like watching Tony Blair and George Bush singing ‘My Way’ at some fund raiser for Iraqi orphans.

In fact, this cry from the heart comes from a letter, written by a woman, called Amanda Monti, who ripped off her ex-boyfriend’s testicle and then tried to swallow it.

Ah yes; this has caused her much pain.

So, when miss Monti will have served her prison sentence, she really should consider going into politics. She obviously is stupid, self-centered, insensitive and senselessly violent enough to become one of the next world leaders.

Wanna hear a very funny story?

You’ve heard of the sick building syndrome, right? Well, that sickness has now evolved into something much more interesting.

Yesterday the building that housed the offices of Tony Blair’s last remaining groupie, Hazel Blears, got so depressed it committed suicide.

Very much related to this, some journo, called Roger Scruton, wrote a piece in last week’s Sunday Times, claiming that western culture (unlike Islam) had always been about reaching out.

The glory of the West, he wrote, is that life is an open book.

Well, yes. Problem is that this book is basically one long & paranoid war story, with some porn and/or celebrity pictures added as a cheap sales device.

So, while our leaders find ever more ways of controlling us, we spend our miserable little lives buying useless consumer goods, from invisible weight loss products to semen detector kits (that will tell you if your husband has been slipping it to someone else on your nice, new hearth rug.)

Our leaders, of course, are just as clueless as the rest of us. While polls show that Dick Cheney is now less popular than Ted Bundy, his fearless master is not so much running out of friends as making ever more improbable enemies wherever he goes.

(That, while his only true ally, the not so popular mafia boss Tony Castrato, has now gone completely mad. Blair now blames the media for all of our civilisation’s - read: his - woes. Like he once blamed France for the Iraq war, presumably.)

The glory of the West, my arse. It’s more like a rather embarrassing story, written on bog paper and heading for a nose dive into some clever designer crapper.

Wouldn’t it be nice if Condi would sing this to George - and George could whisper it to Tony?

Of gravity & angels

And suddenly, again,
I want the long road of your thigh
under my hand, your well-traveled thigh,
your salt-licked & come-slicked thigh,
and I want the taste of you, slaking,
under my tongue (that place of riding desire,
my tongue) and I want
all the unnameable, soft, and yielding places,
belly & neck & the place wings would rise from
if we were angels,
and we are, and I want the rising regions of you
shoulder & cock & tongue & breathing &
suddenness of you
opening
all fontanel, all desire, the whole thing beginning
for the first time again, the first,
until I wonder then how is it
we even know which part we are,
even know the ground that lifts us, raucous,
out of ourselves,
as the rising sound of a summer dawn
when all of it joins in.

Ever felt like a wheelchair, tied to a truck? Felt the need to cry, Stop this train: I wanna get off? Felt like a doggie that doesn’t want to go for a walk (or like a chihuahua in the hands of a particularly sadistic vet?)

Do bears shit in the wood?

So many hard luck stories - so little time to point at all the imbeciles and go, Nyah, nyah, nyah!

Take this guy:

He’s got a problem. He’s had an argument with his girlfriend. She says he’s a stupid, insensitive bastard and that she never wants to see him again.

So, he thinks about it and thinks about it and then just says, Hell, I’ll show the bitch - and he goes on a rampage, driving his car through the mall where she works and when he gets arrested he says that he only wanted to talk to her and ask her to come back.

You’re shaking your head now. You’re thinking, This guy is sóóó stupid, he might as well be a Cheney glove puppet.

(Complaint from the management, Do you always have to make those lame George Bush jokes? Hey, does Lenin play hoops?)

Still, think about it. Doesn’t the 43th president of the US of A look - and act - like some spoiled, rich brat who sees the world as his personal mall (and God as his one and only Gold card) and who will drive his car right through it if he wants something and wants it now?

Because the world owes him - because he thinks he’s in some stupid l’Oréal commercial?

Doesn’t he look like a frat boy or some jock who’s taken one hard look at the real world, didn’t like what he saw and closed the door on it forever?

(Did the earth move for you, honey? Nope, that was just some very heavy mental shutters going down.)

Nope, I’m not going to say anything - I’ll just let the master speak:

But let me tell you, you Peruvian-hatted puritan apostles of grassy nihilism, the single hottest problem facing the planet is not global warming, but the viciously smug fundamentalist prohibitionists of the green movement. Those wholemealy-mouthed ecologists, who devoutly wish to reduce everyone else’s existence to a self-righteous nose-drip probity that never moves more than four miles from the communal yurt, never eats anything that hasn’t been grown in the communal dung and never thinks anything that isn’t collectively miserabilist, are going to destroy life as we know it faster than an equator of traffic jams, a continent of unlagged lofts and a squadron of circling jumbos.

That was A.A. Gill. The rest of his column you can find here.

(Gill is, amongst other things, a restaurant critic. This is what he had to say about the dim sum, served at Dim T, a restaurant in London that you might want to avoid:

The nicest thing you could say about the dim sum is that it was what you imagine dog food would be like if it was stuffed into wet Wonder Bread and steamed until it gave up.)

Did you hear? Some sadistic scientist has given a mobile phone to an innocent glacier. As if global warming wasn’t irritating enough. Now the glacier can be called by every moron with some time to kill:

“Hi! I’m on the train. What are you doing?”

“I’m fucking dying here - sod off!”

Loosely related to the glacier’s tale of woe: last week some pastor said that God had abandoned us because of lesbians. The pastor didn’t quite come out and say why that was exactly but maybe God got angry because those lesbians didn’t let Him watch.

The good pastor was wrong, of course. Yes, God has abandoned us; that much is true - but not because of lesbians. It’s because of those damn mobile phones.

It was bad enough in the pre-mobile days, when humanity was constantly sending their needful prayers to Him. It is however quite something else when a deity who can hear a sparrow fart has to listen to millions and millions of inane cell phone conversations, every bloody second of each and every Hellish day.

So, that’s why He upped and left us. Not that all that many people noticed: they were way too busy trying either to lose or to rescue those infernal machines.

Talking of being lost, George Bush has been on another world tour. Nimble as a T-Rex he went from place to place, with a gaff-gaff here and a guffaw there.

Mind you, he seems to be enjoying himself, out there. It must be nice for him to know that, while most of the world hates his guts and even the good folks at home have abandoned him, he will always be welcome in Albania.

Meanwhile - and no, this is not a diversion, per sé - Bill Gates is definitely not a happy bunny. He is drumming his fingers on his desk, humming, I shot the sheriff… but I didn’t shoot the deputy.

It isn’t as if the richest guy in the world didn’t have enough problems already - and now he also has to deal with the fact that the most unpopular president in the blood-stained history of the US of A has come forward and publicly stated, in yet another ‘heck of a job!’ moment, that he stands a 100% behind Microsoft.

You can hear Gates mutter, That’s all we bloody need.

So, we will have to leave you with the image of Bill Gates, having just read the sad story of two brothers being killed in two separated road incidents.

Bill is chuckling like mad, while he’s ramming needles into the voodoo doll replicas of Airforce One and Airforce Two.

Next Thursday, there will be be a gay pride parade in Jerusalem. That, in itself, is rather daring. For the last few millennia the Holy Land has not exactly been renowned for its turning-the-other-cheek policy in moments of moral, political and/or religious confusion.

So, coming out is not exactly the same, Come and sit down on Oprah’s knee and tell us all about it as it would be in less volatile places.

In a country where they have more Uzis & Kalashnikovs than bagels – and even more people who love to cast the first projectile than there are actual stones - you better carry one of those newfangled Bush umbrellas with you when you do leave the safety of that closet.

In other words, these good people could use a bit of moral support (and a lot of armed protection, no doubt.) So, will they get it? Like Hell, they will.

What did happen was this.

Just to show that all those funny, fundamentalist Christians and quaint, Qaida-type Muslims are not the only ones foaming all over the cuckoo’s nest, some mad rabbis have now come out into the full moon limelight as well.

There’s this Orthodox Righteous Court of Law; Badatz, for short - or Bad Arz to all their nerdy buddies.

Badatz has put a curse on all the organizers and participants in the coming gay pride parade – and to show that they are equal opportunity nuts, they have cursed the police, who will be there to try to keep the proud paraders alive, as well.

In their own mission statement:

[All sinners] involved in the Jerusalem pride march will feel a curse on their souls

You have to give it to those Badatz bullies though: they do speak plainly - and they don’t lack a certain self-knowledge either, since this first part of the threat was followed with an almost endearingly honest:

and evil will pursue them.