For Shame, Milwaukee, For Shame Wisconsin

Evidently, drinking at least two drinks per month puts Milwaukee at the head of the pack Nationwide for 'drunkest city in the country'. Victory by default is never pretty; what kind of losers were competing in this contest, anyway? Where the Hell was Madison during all of this? Or Verona for that matter? I think the Churck should demand some answers, or at least further research.

Doo Doo Series

The old saying says those who can, do, and those who doo-doo, doo-doo. In honor of them, we launch the doo-doo series of Rustywhear.

The distinctive design of the Monkey Thoroughing Poo Rimmed T says it all.

But for those who need to say more, the Monkey Thoroughing Poo Commemorative Stamp lets you send your US Postal Mail in style!!

Or, get the Monkey Thoroughing Poo Framed Tile!! for your office!

And, if you sponsor a children's baseball team, why not outfit them in the Monkey Thoroughing Poo Children's Baseball Jersey

F^CK YOU, Pluto!

Finally, members of the International Asstronomical Union are beginning to follow the directives of the First Unichurck. As go the asstronuts, so go the terrestrialnuts. It is only a matter of time, now, before the alienation becomes inalienable.

Flocking to the Flock

"Please, please do not base your economy on cockfighting."

Nagin calls for Chocolate from the Fed

In an unprecedented and unorthodox move on Friday in Indianapolis, New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin, who has often been accused of wearing a skull prosthesis for effect (people with large, mushroom-shaped bald heads evidently seem smarter than their non-mushroomed counterparts), made a plea to the Federal Government to speed the relief to the Katrina-torn city. What made the request atypical was it's gustatory if not frankly culinary nature: Nagin insisted that he hated the oranges from "Orange County" California because they are too vanilla for him (does he also hate something everyone loves--Creamsicles? We can only speculate), and then proceeded to go right off the deep end by insisting that all future relief dollars be actual chocolate, to fit in with his previous "Chocolate New Orleans" political strategy. As the masturbating metaphor-junkies in the audience really started to spin, Nagin shocked the crowd by responding to a question,

"No, I'm talking about ACTUAL chocolate federal dollars. You know, like the
kind you used to get in your Christmas stocking as a kid. Or if you're Jewish,
given to you by your parents on Channauka as a sort ofpre-conditioning--HA!
That's pretty funny, aint' it? I love the Jews. Come in a little mesh bag. Gold
foil wrappers. Indistinguishable from legal tender until you pop 'em in your
mouth. You all know what I mean.
The larger plan is to create an entire
(Nagin slowed his speech at this point for dramatic effect) CONFECTIONERY
economy, if I may. The long-range plan that I and my advisors have come up with
is to take those chocolate federal dollars (another dramatic pause), and place
them...in the chocolate bank we're presently constructing next to Cafe Du Monde
in the French Quarter--though I may be prone to a few, how should I say,
'personal' deposits into my mouth, if you know what I'm saying-- and
then...simply live off the interest. We could even replace paper money with
beignets if things work out. Maybe a little messy with all that powder, but
worth exploring. It's a well-organized, comprehensive plan, and there's no
Vanilla, if you know what I'm saying."

When asked for comment, OneEar was noted to remark something non-sequitur and essentially unintelligible. But, he stated, University of Wisconsin, Madison,has dropped from number 1 (Number 1? Number 1?) to number 5 in the BigList.

Steroid Use Denied

Renowned blogger OneEar, who persists in writing in the third person, today denied any use of writing-enhancing chemicals.

"I have three extremely large testicles," claimed Ear, "and my writing simply reflects that anatomical reality."

Ear's bodily fluids will be exposed to bleach and a washcloth in order to remove them from the counter-top. Commenting on performance enhancing chemicals, Ear indicated his support for smoking them out. "I do not support mandatory drug testing," indicated Ear. "Recreational drug testing works just fine."

Ear believes this scandal is a distraction from more important issues such as how much money is being spent to kill how many people and at whom Lindsey Lohan is mad.

"This is a sad day for my family and for the sport of writing," read Ear's prepared remarks, "and my only goal is to see how we can all move forward and put this unfortunate episode behind us. Please, for the sake of the children."

New #2 Lives Up To Title

Her Next Friend, the Virginia power trio band best known for its dedicated stance against the number pi, has released its next EP - New #2. http://cdbaby.com/cd/hernextfriend2

To the ear of this reviewer, the band is gressing. There are hints of early Who, some Lou Reed, and a bit of Nirvana lingering around on these tracks, but there is also something new emerging!?! Will it grow, or will it be aborted? What will it be when it matures? Why do they hate circles?

FREE HALEY JOEL

Haley Joel Osmond, youngest of the talented Osmond family, was wrongfully charged with several minor "crimes" yesterday.

According to wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haley_Joel_Osment

On August 17, 2006, TMZ.com reported that Osment was charged with DUI and marijuana possession. At 3:20 that day, Osment was charged with four criminal counts: Driving under the influence of alcohol, driving with a .08 blood alcohol level or higher, enhancement of driving with a .15 or higher, and possession of marijuana while driving. [1]

His trial is scheduled for September 19, 2006 and he could face up to six months in jail if convicted. [2]

You will recall Osmond from that 70's variety show, Haley Joel and Dawn.

Now, I'm no lawyer, but how can it be that driving with a BAC of .16 is two crimes? As to whether it should even be one crime, please refer to my previous posts about Ted Kennedy.

I Had Tears When I Read This

Subject: Two Choices

What would you do? You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; There isn't one! Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: “Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

“When not interfered with by outside influences, everything the almighty does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shaq, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. And he is 7 feet tall and weighs 300 pounds? Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe, that when a child like Shaq, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story:

Shaq and his father had walked past a stadium where some people Shaq knew were playing basketball. Shaq asked, Do you think they'll let me play? Shaq's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shaq on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shaq's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shaq could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We're losing by sixteen points, and the game is in the fourth period. I guess he can be on our team seeing as how he is extremely large.”

Shaq struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. Shaq's team scored a few points but was still be hind by three. Even though the game was closer, they put Shaq into the game. And even though nobody passed him the ball, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.

As time wound down, Shaq’s team closed the gap and was down by only 1. There was the choice – do they let Shaq stay in the game and risk the chance that he might get fouled and have to shoot free throws or do they pull him?

They left Shaq in the game. The opposing team, recognizing Shaq’s situation, left him unguarded so that he could catch a pass. Then, in an extreme act of kindness, they all mauled him in an obvious foul. Shaq would get to shoot free-throws.

As Shaq stepped up to the foul line to shoot his first shot, the crowd began chanting, “Shaq, Shaq.” His shot was straight as an arrow with very little arc, but after it bricked against the back rimmed and up into the backboard, it miraculously fell through the hoop. Shaq had made a free-throw.

By now, the crowd was in a frenzy. All were screaming, "Shaq, Shaq, Shaq, all the Way Shaq"

Shaq dribbled once, twice, thrice and then held the small basketball in one of his giant hands. His huge arm cocked like a rocket launcher, and he let ball fly like a catapult launching a golf ball. Again, the trajectory was absolutely flat if not slightly downward. The force of the ball impacting the front of the rim not only bounced the ball 20 feet into the air above, but it immediately shattered the plexiglass backboard and caused the rim to fall to the ground below. As the rim clanked onto the floor, with glass falling all around, the ball fell from high above and landed directly in the middle of the hoop. Shaq had won the game!

“That day,” said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, “the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.”

Shaq never forgot being the hero for a day. Instead of dying, he decided to become a multi-millionaire NBA player despite his handicaps.

AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.

If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things." So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those least able and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.

You now have two choices:
1. Pass this inspirational story along to any 7 foot tall 300 pounders that you know; or
2. Forget about this and get back to your spreadsheets.

Which one will you choose?

Pro-Planetary Legislation Needed

The sanctity of planetary existence has been under attack by so-called liberals who would expand the definition of what constitutes a planet. Bucking traditional planetary values, these people would define "planet" in such a way that a horse would qualify as a planet. Should we all go live on a horse?

The International Astronomical Union has proposed a definition of:

a celestial body with sufficient mass to assume a nearly spherical shape that orbits a star without being another star or a satellite of another planet. By this definition, the list of planets in order from the sun now reads: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto-Charon (considered a double-planet system) and the newly discovered and officially unnamed 2003 UB313, otherwise known as Xena.

The committee also proposed a new category of planets, called plutons, be applied to those bodies that, like Pluto, both take longer than 200 Earth years to revolve around the sun and have eccentric orbits outside the typical orbital plane.

The First Unichurck has already made its position clear on this subject. The mistake was in including Pluto instead of Xena in the chosen nine.

But now, these reductio ad absurdists have attacked the whole dignity of planetariness. They want to literally throw the baby out with the bath water, and that is a form of post-birth abortion. The First Unichurck opposes post-birth abortion (with certain exceptions such as telemarketers, e-spammers, and Ted Kennedy).

Let's stop the insanity. If you want to make up a new definition for your little round objects, then so be it. Call them "happy-balls" or "space thingies." But, for the sake of the children, leave our "planet" alone.

Rusty's Unextinct The Rhino Operation

Rusty's Unextinct the Rhino Operation (code Rut-Ro) has begun reanimation processes to re-originate the black rhino. In a sharp split from his past directives, Rusty is now endorsing certain classes of the undead including Saviors and rhinoceri (but not garden variety zombies or accountants).

Rusty's godly directive to "Get f^cked by a rhino" will be analyzed over coming months by the First Unichurck high council. Chief spokesman OneEar has indicated that, in this instance, he would rather that someone else be "the chosen One."

The True Churck has begun stockpiling petroleum jelly, screw drivers, and other prying implements in anticipation of the high council's canonical imperative.

Rhinorevival

I've got it! We'll recreate the now extinct black rhino.

The way I understand Darwinism, somebody needs to f^ck white rhinos and then kill the offspring until a black rhino appears. This is called natural preservation.

Then, somebody needs to f^ck that black rhino and give it all kinds of treats. This is called natural selection. It is how you origin a species.

Get to work, rhino-f^ckers!

Way to Extinguish Another Cool Animal, A$$w!pes.

Well, now you've gone and killed off the Western black rhino. see Western black rhino feared extinct. Way to go, rhino-f^ckers!

Hypoothesis

There was this ape, a very large ape, that escaped from the zoo. It wandered into an upscale hotel, snuck past security, and, after eating some extremely spicy buffalo wings and, apparently, a cigar, it broke into room 519, shat on the floor, picked up both of the occupants, stamped their feet in its sh!t, reset one of their watches back 4 hours, knocked the mirror off of the wall and then took all of the towels and left.

SOS - A Mystery
A Clue

The Following May be a clue to the Mystery:

These strange entries were captured on police radio scanners:

Alceste:
And...there is no more smoking in bars. You need to file a suit on
conventioneers behalf. We just passed that law in BR as well. tsk
tsk. I am free as the wind, just trying to clean up the shit in my
bathroom before the maid is stuck with it. Call me when you are
available.

OneNoteSolo:
You clean up for the maid but not CocoaNoGoGo? The trail of shit stains you
left at his house was epic.... Be careful and do not tape dollar bills to your
fur as a trusting wookieI know once did....

Alceste:
The sad thing is that I did clean up in Chicago--it is just that the job
was so immense. On a similar note,I shit myself last week on I55 in
Mississippi. I was between exits, and the guts were rumbling. I
squeezed and squeezed, and, luckily, made it to an exit. There was an
Exxon a mile down the road, but it was boarded shut. I began to panic, and
tried to go down the other way---bad mistake. My bowels exploded and the
runny brown liquid oozed out everywhere, soiling the seat of kristin's new
Altima with a brown paste. I drove to the back of a church and found an
fence-enclosed air conditioning area. The fence was short, but I had no
choice. I stripped down and attempted to clean myself with a new pack of
Hanes undershirts. It was simply too much poo. Then, a pickup truck
pulled into the lot, but it went to the front of the building. I put on
some other shorts, but the brown evil paste was still everywhere. I put
down one ofHunter's blankets over the shit in the car, and I made it to Taco
Bell and cleaned up in the bathroom, then returned to the church to retrieve my
shit coated clothing. I couldn't leave that for the ac repairman to
discover. I found a convenience store and bought a roll of paper towels
and some Orange Clean. It worked like a charm. Later that evening, I
rinsed the crap-laden clothing out in the hotel tub, but the drain was slow, and
I couldn't get things to flow south. I checked out in the morning, leaving
the stained undershirts in the trash of the hotel room. I felt bad for the
lady who would have to clean the shit up, and feel bad for this lady as well
here in Madison. However, I suppose that is the cost of doing business with a
pig like myself.

Alceste:
Everyone--in an unbelievable sequence of actions, I blasted mud in
the shower this morning, coating the walls and clogging, once again, the
drain. I have been traveling for two weeks, and the food is killing
me.

Now, what could have happened on that famed evening of Wookies and Grizzly bears sleeping in the poopy hotel? Which of the large, furry creatures crapped the floor in this scatological mystery? And left their respective paw prints in the doo? The fact that both had traipsed through the evidence, casually unaware, makes the mystery even more difficult to solve. And, to add insult to injury, Grizzly blames Wookie, and Wookie diplomatically states he can't imagine who could have broken into the room just to do that, force them both to stride through the mess, break the mirror, and steal the towels.

The image of a Grizzly squatting down behind an air-conditioning fence trying to clean liquid turd off his fur is suspicious, thought-provoking, nauseating, yet somehow hysterical. Who can crack the code? This case is sure to go cold.

SOS - A Mystery

It was a weekend like so many others, beautiful sunny weather in an idyllic midwestern city. But, during this weekend, something would go terribly wrong.

It began innocently enough when a middle-aged man, we'll call him Alceste, enrolled in some sort of conference. The conference happened to be venued at the home city of your hero and mine, OneEar.

Thursday evening ended without a splash. The following is excerpted verbatim from Alceste's report:

Just spent the evening in the company of the wookie. Here is my report. We went to the college where they have an immense terrace that serves beer. We heard a band warm up for an hour, play one song, then they put all their shit away. The wookie seemed sober. His back was straight, and he wasn't holding his stomach. He did not break anything, and he said "excuse me" when walking past another table. He did not leave any trails of fur. Is this a ruse? Am I being luled into a situation that could turn ugly? Please advise.

Friday, Alceste apparently reported to his conference and your hero and mine, OneEar aka "the wookie", reported for duty to the office. After spending the day tending to their respective professional obligations, the two reconvened Friday afternoon for the occassion of having OneEar drive one of Alceste's colleagues to a Harley Davidson store (read all over tarnation).

After a few pitchers of beer at a beer garden and a couple of beers at Rusty's tavern, OneEar and Alceste parked at Alceste's hotel, ditched the colleague and set out on foot for some drinking proper. The first stop involved, you guessed it, beer, as well as some extremely spicy buffalo wings. (Note: this clue may or may not be relevant later). The duo continued bar-hopping through the evening and into the night until they returned to Alceste's hotel.

Flash forward 8 hours. It is now 10am on Saturday. "Housekeeping!" is knocking at the door. OneEar awakes, checks his watch which reads 6:00am, and wonders aloud, "What the f&ck?" "Occupado," he yells.

Looking down, OneEar notices that he is still fully clothed except for his shoes, but there is what appears to be sh!t all over his feet and bedsheets. "What the f&ck?" He takes a second look around the room. Alceste is beginning to rustle in his bed. Good, he is still alive. The large hotel mirror has been knocked off the wall and the door to the adjacent room is open.

OneEar sits up and notices that Alceste too has what appears to be sh!t all over his feet and bedsheets and there is a large wiped up mess of what appears to be sh!t all over the carpeting at the foot of Alceste's bed.

"Alceste, What the f&ck?"

"I don't know," says Alceste.

"What happened here?" wonders OneEar.

"I don't know," says Alceste.

"Well clean that sh!t up."

Alceste returns from the bathroom with one wet washcloth and throws it on the pile of diarrhea. "We should go," he says.

OneEar goes into the bathroom to wash his feet in the tub. "Where are all of the towels," he asks when he is done.

"I don't know," says Alceste. "We should go."

So, after leaving their last $5 for housekeeping (Not nearly enough), Alceste went down to check out promptly and OneEar proceeded to the parking garage to pull the car around and they left the mystery behind them.

What could have happened?

On Adfinitem

The alien nation is building.

The Verfremdungseffekt for Vendetta initative of the First Unichurck is nearing culmination of the test stage. It is time to renew. Members are invited to re-member. Judgment is passed. Only in this way can the FU make sense.

The Clowns have emerged from behind the painted smile to reveal their inherent anarchy. These are not characters. The sound they produce is not music, unless music is irony.

None will be held against their will, for they have no will. All are left alienated eventually, zombies one-upped by partial bodies with gelatinous souls.

Is this a comedic war? Are we really at war? Who then the Warrior?

What is the Clown without the mask? What is the revolt without the humor?

On War

von Clausewitz' classic treatise On War begins with the simple question, "What is War? (Was ist der Krieg)" He answers that question a mere paragraph later with the statement, "War therefore is an act of violence to compel our opponent to fulfil our will." (J.J. Graham translation, 1873).

Note that "our will" and "our opponent" assume a "we" with consensus. This assumed consensus is problematic in societies with diffused power and various agendas. If "we" cannot agree on our intentions, we do not have a shared will to fulfil. This is the principle reason why we are failing in the war on Iraq, the war on terror, and the war on poverty.

Let's take the most important case, the war on poverty. In that case, the opponent is poverty. Poverty is defined as "the state of having little or no money and few or no material possessions". So, now we know which state to attack.

What is the appropriate act of violence? We could choose beheading or cutting off nipples like the ancient Irish? Or, we could blow up some cities like more contemporary warriors. Before deciding how to hurt the state of poverty, we must decide what we want to compel poverty to do.

What is "our" will? Let us assume that our will is to enrich ourselves. By that I mean enrich myself. I don't give a damn about you (for rhetorical purposes). But what of your desire to enrich yourself? When we try to determine the appropriate act of violence to compel the state of poverty to fulfil "our" will, we run smack dab into the concept of "me."

The solution to this dilemma is the immediate suspension of any and all dissention. We need to be united in our violence. Remember, there is no "I" in "team," but there is a "me" "met" "mate" "at" "meat" "tea." That sounds like something a monkey could be taught to say by sign language.

von Clausewitz' model tries to "emphasise the necessary and general, and to leave a margin for the play of the particular and accidental; but to exclude all that is arbitrary, unfounded, trifling, fantastical; or sophistical."

Now do you see the big mistake?

On Weeeee

Our friend Alceste (motto: mihi in odi est) has been noticeably absent from FU services for the last few months. His absence corresponds suspiciously with his new employment. Does anyone believe in coincidence any more? I didn't think so.

This caused me to ponder the larger question - Is gainful employment anathema to the True Churck?

In order to enable myself to answer this pressing question, I turn to the dictionary in order to figure out what "anathema" means:

anything laid up or suspended; hence anything laid up in a temple or set apart as sacred. In this sense the form of the word is _anath(ee)ma_, once in pluralused in the Greek New Testament, in Luke 21:5, where it is rendered "gifts." In the LXX, the form _anathema_ is generally used as the rendering of the Hebrew word "herem", derived from a verb which means

(1) to consecrate or devote; and

(2) to exterminate.

Now we're getting somewhere. I've been looking for a verb that means both to consecrate and to exterminate. This is sort of like loving someone to death. That happened to my pet frog when I was a kid.

I still am left to wonder - is Alceste's absence the result of a shunning? You will note from the linked article that Jehovah's Witnesses apparently use shunning to "disfellowship" members who stray from the flock. I believe JW's "disfellowship"may be the derivation for the phrase "Don't `dis' me motherf^cker!"

Alceste, I'm not sure who is the shunner and who is the shunnee in this instance, but I think it is time to refellowship. Otherwise, I'm going to anathematize your ass.