Friday, April 30, 2010
Get your square watermelon today!
These totally unnecessary items are only $75.00 each and available wherever obscenely wealthy people might actually spend that much on something worth $3.00--New York, Germany, the Netherlands, and Japan.
Man Hits 5 Chinese Kids With Hammer, Burns Himself to Death
BEIJING — A farmer attacked kindergarten students with a hammer, injuring five, before burning himself to death Friday in China's third such assault in as many days and prompting the government to demand stricter school security nationwide.
Wang Yonglai used a motorcycle to break down the gate of the Shangzhuang Primary School in the eastern city of Weifang and struck a teacher who tried to block him before hitting students with the hammer, the official Xinhua News Agency said.
Wang then grabbed two children before pouring gasoline over his body and setting fire to himself. Teachers were able to pull the children away to safety, but Wang died. None of the five injured students had life-threatening injuries, Xinhua said.
The attack was confirmed by an employee at the Weifang Public Security information office. But the motive for Wang's rampage was unclear. Xinhua described him only as a local farmer.
The hammer attack follows a rampage Thursday by a 47-year-old unemployed man armed with an eight-inch (20-centimeter) knife at a kindergarten. Some 29 students, aged 4 or 5 years old, were wounded, five of them seriously at the school in Taixing city in neighboring Jiangsu province.
And on Wednesday, a 33-year-old former teacher broke into a primary school in the city of Leizhou in southern Guangdong province and wounded 15 students and a teacher with a knife. The attacker had been on sick leave from another school since 2006 for mental health problems.
According to news reports, the latest attacks have prompted schools in various parts of the country to take action. In a district of southern Nanjing City, guards will be armed from Saturday with police batons and pepper spray. In Beijing's Xicheng district, guards at kindergarten, elementary and middle schools have been given long-handled metal restraint poles with a hook on the end. In eastern Jinan city, police posts are being built on elementary and middle schools' campuses.
In an editorial Friday, the English-language China Daily said that security should be tightened, but stressed the need to prevent attacks in the first place.
"It can be easy to put killers on trial and execute them but it is far more difficult to find out the deep-seated causes behind such horrifying acts. Our efforts should be focused on preventing these from happening," it said. "We should find out what propelled them to such extremes. What problems do they have? Could anyone have helped, especially the authorities?"
Accounts in China's state media have largely glossed over what motivates attackers, but experts say outbursts against the defenseless are frequently due to social pressures. An egalitarian society only a generation ago, China's headlong rush to prosperity has sharpened differences between the rich and poor, while the public health system has atrophied.
China likely has about 173 million adults with mental health disorders, and 158 million of them have never had professional help, according to a mental health survey in four provinces jointly done by Chinese and U.S. doctors that was published in the medical journal The Lancet in June.
(courtesy Huffington Post)
I know guns are expensive and difficult to acquire (outside the U.S.), but it can't be that hard to locate a sharp object for a little throat-slitting when circumstances call for it. Burning himself alive? Such pageantry!
I wonder if it will be enough for him to win this year's Craziest Local Farmer trophy, although there seems to be an impressive amount of competition out there lately...
Monday, April 26, 2010
...that so many old white men (and four old white women, to get those affirmative action cunts off their backs) would be such self-serving greedy little pricks and refuse to even discuss reforming the rapists on Wall Street.
I bet there was a run on Viagra and prostitutes in DC this afternoon--and they're pretty well-stocked out there--as all the Wall Street lobbyists' assistants furiously stocked the C Street House for tonight's celebratory jag-off party.
By the way, can anyone score me a ticket to that?
I would love to keep a tally of how many times I overhear the $5000/night escorts ask "Is it in me yet?" as I pace the upstairs (fraternity) hallway pretending to be on the phone with my broker in Tokyo. It may be immature and pointless, but hey--if they are going to eagerly continue the ruination of my country, the least they can do is provide me with a few dozen chuckles tonight.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
"I don't have a toilet at the moment. My house is just a wooden box. I mean I am planning to get a toilet at some point. But for now I have to go to the neighbours. I threw it all out."So...it's not using a toilet that is the problem, it's...owning one?
I understand Mr. Campbell's desire to free himself from material goods, but I would hardly equate owning a toilet with excesses like Gucci pajamas, a personal chef, a flat-screen TV in every room, or a car collection, which makes me wonder if perhaps Campbell is a bit confused.
And so I offer him some advice, free of charge:
"It's just a place to put your shit! Literally! Now get off your high horse and put one in your house. It will make you a bit more like the rest of us, sure, but not by much, so stop worrying about that, you unique little creepazoid."_
Theoretical physicist and stater-of-the-obvious Stephen Hawking recently informed the people of Earth that they should be afraid of aliens.
World renowned scientist Stephen Hawking believes extraterrestrial life almost certainly exists -- and humans should be extremely cautious about interacting with it.
He suggests that aliens might simply raid Earth for its resources and then move on:
"We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn't want to meet. I imagine they might exist in massive ships, having used up all the resources from their home planet. Such advanced aliens would perhaps become nomads, looking to conquer and colonise whatever planets they can reach."
He concludes that trying to make contact with alien races is "a little too risky". He said: "If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn't turn out very well for the Native Americans."
(courtesy Huffington Post)
I mean, how many movies do we have to make/watch about this exact hypothetical situation before scientists understand that we get it?
I wish Stephen Hawking and his ilk would stop being so theoretical/theatrical and spend their time on more constructive endeavors, like inventing an alien-slaughtering death ray.
In other news, you should be afraid of snakes--very afraid:
There are several reasons I decided not to become a bullfighter:
1. Torturing and killing an animal for fun is not cool.
2. Unless they also rub gasoline in the bullfighter's eyes, it's not really a fair fight.
3. The hideous uniforms make me look fat.
4. I don't have a death wish.
5. I value my groin above all. Above all!
And so, without further ado, a famous bullfighter getting gored in the groin by an angry 1100-pound bull with needles stuck into his testicles to make him more lively:
Talk about getting your just desserts! I hope his penis is broken forever and he has to continue his love life with a stand-in, a la Farinelli, the famous castrato.
By the way, have you ever seen a drawing of a flaccid penis onscreen for that long?
Way to go, Mexico!
Friday, April 23, 2010
This just in:
WASHINGTON — Senior staffers at the Securities and Exchange Commission spent hours surfing pornographic websites on government-issued computers while they were being paid to police the financial system, an agency watchdog says.Employees at many large corporations are not able to log into Facebook or browse websites with foul language on them, but employees at the SEC have no problem getting away with surfing porn sites for eight hours a day?
The memo was first reported Thursday evening by ABC News. It summarizes past inspector general probes and reports some shocking findings:
_ A senior attorney at the SEC's Washington headquarters spent up to eight hours a day looking at and downloading pornography. When he ran out of hard drive space, he burned the files to CDs or DVDs, which he kept in boxes around his office. He agreed to resign, an earlier watchdog report said.
_ An accountant was blocked more than 16,000 times in a month from visiting websites classified as "Sex" or "Pornography." Yet he still managed to amass a collection of "very graphic" material on his hard drive by using Google images to bypass the SEC's internal filter, according to an earlier report from the inspector general. The accountant refused to testify in his defense, and received a 14-day suspension.
_ Seventeen of the employees were "at a senior level," earning salaries of up to $222,418.
_ The number of cases jumped from two in 2007 to 16 in 2008. The cracks in the financial system emerged in mid-2007 and spread into full-blown panic by the fall of 2008.
(courtesy Associated Press)
Setting aside that grossly imbalanced situation, who looks at porn for eight hours a day? Who can even tolerate that kind of torture/self-abuse?
Or maybe I'm looking at it the wrong way, and this is all some kind of tragic side-effect of taxpayer-funded, mandatory Viagra prescriptions for government employees with decreasing libido? I suppose it's possible...
The real question here, however, is that if you are spending your entire eight-hour workday watching porn, why is there also a need to store these movies/images on your hard drive?
Are you planning on re-watching them in the future? When would you have time for that when you are constantly searching for new material?
Are you saving up a stockpile for retirement, when your measly $150,000/yr pension kicks in and you won't be able to afford an internet connection?
Or are you planning on opening a library for your fellow SEC pornaholics?
Either way, you are stupid, sad, and depressing on so many levels--drown yourself in the Potomac!
After bequeathing your life's work to your 14-year-old nephew, of course...
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Re-posted from FoxNews.com, of all places:
7,500 Online Shoppers Unknowingly Sold Their Souls
A computer game retailer revealed that it legally owns the souls of thousands of online shoppers, thanks to a clause in the terms and conditions agreed to by online shoppers.
The retailer, British firm GameStation, added the "immortal soul clause" to the contract signed before making any online purchases earlier this month. It states that customers grant the company the right to claim their soul.
"By placing an order via this Web site on the first day of the fourth month of the year 2010 Anno Domini, you agree to grant Us a non transferable option to claim, for now and for ever more, your immortal soul. Should We wish to exercise this option, you agree to surrender your immortal soul, and any claim you may have on it, within 5 (five) working days of receiving written notification from gamesation.co.uk or one of its duly authorised minions."
GameStation's form also points out that "we reserve the right to serve such notice in 6 (six) foot high letters of fire, however we can accept no liability for any loss or damage caused by such an act. If you a) do not believe you have an immortal soul, b) have already given it to another party, or c) do not wish to grant Us such a license, please click the link below to nullify this sub-clause and proceed with your transaction."
The terms of service were updated on April Fool's Day as a gag, but the retailer did so to make a very real point: No one reads the online terms and conditions of shopping, and companies are free to insert whatever language they want into the documents.
While all shoppers during the test were given a simple tick box option to opt out, very few did this, which would have also rewarded them with a £5 voucher, according to news:lite. Due to the number of people who ticked the box, GameStation claims believes as many as 88 percent of people do not read the terms and conditions of a Web site before they make a purchase.
The company noted that it would not be enforcing the ownership rights, and planned to e-mail customers nullifying any claim on their soul.
I mean, we should all know by now that the Devil thrives on fine print--have you not seen that wonderfully informative documentary, Bedazzled?
My advice to those 7,500 saps is thus: fornicate with impunity, for your fate hath been sealed.
My advice to the rest of the world: ditto.
Had to re-post this bit of brilliant drivel I read on Videogum today:
At today’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice press conference, someone asked [Nicholas] Cage how he chooses whether to go way over the top (like in Bad Lieutenant: Port Of Call, New Orleans) or hold back (like in Adaptation.) And he responded:
"Thank you for noticing, because first of all, it’s difficult to talk about the work, right? Because when you talk about the work, it’s kind of stupid because the work speaks for itself. I don’t want to name it, because when you name it, if you name it then it loses its mystery. If I tell you exactly what I was thinking, or what I was up to – and I have been guilty of that – then you lose your secret connection with the work of art. And I digress, but I went on Dick Cavett many years ago and met Miles Davis. And I was talking about things like art synthesis and Picasso and you can do with acting what he did, or with music, and Miles came out and he got it, you know, he was looking at me, he gave me this, like – he nodded and he winked at me. Miles Davis, you know. And we were sharing the trumpet. And ever since then, because he accepted whatever my philosophy was, I believe that I wanted to approach acting as jazz. And so he became like a surrealist father of sorts, along with Walt Disney. And I thought, 'Okay. Well, this time, I’m going to just let anything come out, whatever it may be. Like Bad Lieutenant, you know. But sometimes, it’s really thought out and constructed and carefully thought out, like Adaptation. So I always like to mix it up."
The most amazing thing about this is that a person actually said it, with no intention of being funny.
The most disappointing aspect of it is that Cage's rambling monologue about "art synthesis and Picasso" is not readily available for me to listen to and laugh at.
Anybody out there got a bootleg Dick Cavett box set? I'm looking in your direction, Charles Grodin...
Where I come from, we don't share trumpets...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Well, it's time to finally do something about it! Free parking!
Advertisements are supposed to make your product look tempting.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
There is a reason most people should never be allowed to operate a video camera, and this is it:
There is so much to love/hate here, but I think one of the best moments is when the clowns go to their "favorite restaurant" and it is clearly the employee break room at whatever shit-factory the lead singer/producer/director/lyricist/composer/lead clown works.
What, Silly Sally the Clown couldn't use her clowny charms to convince the who-gives-a-shit manager at some Little Caesar's in Podunk Fucksville to let her pop-off one measly shot in a place where people actually consume hot food? I mean, it's not like they planned on setting up any lights or doing anything too serious!
Or maybe it wasn't authenticity they were after here...
That being said, if you are going to go to all the trouble of composing and recording a song in your laundry room on a Casio keyboard, you should make sure to follow through on that bitch by figuring out a way to convince the clowns starring in your music video to show at least one iota of enthusiasm when the camera rolls.
Otherwise, you might as well throw that $16 budget down the toilet, spend the weekend watching Home Improvement re-runs, and leave the video production to the professionals.
Pedophilia has been in the news a lot these days, thanks to those pervy Catholics, and I feel it is my duty to take this opportunity to warn you all that pedophilia does not always happen behind closed doors or confessional curtains--sometimes it goes on right in front of your eyes, on national television.
Just Like Mom was the longest-running game show in Canadian history, even though it was only on the air for six seasons (How quaint!-Ed.).
The last five seasons were hosted by famed Toronto Blue Jays announcer Fergie Olver, who was the husband (now divorced) of the show's creator, Catherine Swing--which is an unfortunate name, considering what follows (Zing! -Ed.).
Now, I am the first to admit that I don't know much about Mr. Olver--including whether or not he is still alive--but that is only because his wikipedia profile has been deleted and scouring the internet has mysteriously (?) turned up no leads.
Most likely that is a result of his camp's reaction to the following video, which no doubt has made life extraordinarily difficult for Mr. Olver, if he is still alive:
Keep in mind that this is what happened when he knew the cameras were on.
What happened backstage after the show? What happened during casting sessions? What happened when he took the winning kids to Walt Disney World?
If anything more sinister ever happened besides these televised kisses, I hope he died a painful death, bled dry as a result of repeated slashes of his penis with a dull, rusted knife wielded by a vengeful victim.
Can you believe the good people of Canada let this go on for so long? Did they think it was cute that it seems all Fergie was after was a kiss on the lips from little girls?
I mean, I know it was 'a different era' and this is a heavily-edited video, but still--if an unwanted kiss happened even once it would be worth mentioning, and that is clearly not the case.
Hmmmm...methinks once again, as with 'the Catholic situation,' the rise of the military-industrial complex, the lip-service of modern-day politicians, real-estate speculation, the health-care situation, Social-Security raiding, and the current omnipotence of guilt-free corporations, previous generations were asleep at the wheel and future generations must pay the price.
(Thanks to Videogum, btw, for introducing me to this ass-clown!)
Monday, April 19, 2010
Since her legs were getting "icky," she decided to just cut them off and have a couple anatomically-correct, scientifically-miraculous, animatronic legs attached in their place.
Expect the blindingly-glossy sheen to be cut way down with the upcoming second generation.
Until then, for your own safety, please try to avoid looking directly at Mrs. Paltrow's legs--especially if you are operating heavy machinery in her vicinity. Her legal defense fund will thank you.
I wonder who would win in a douche-off--Mr. CooL ICE or the Governor of California.
I'd say the odds are 50/50, considering these days Arnold walks around like his entire body is broken, and as long as the proceeds went to a charity that didn't spend 90% of their donations on operating costs, I'd sure buy a front-row seat.
Does Don King still do this shit? If so, give that motherfucker a call for me...
In light of the dearth of originality that continues to plague Hollywood these days, here are five movies that will probably be made in my lifetime:
Real Housewives of Superheroes
What happens on the home-front is even more fantastic, in this out-of-this-world comedy from Robert Zemeckis.
He's Just Not That Into Your Mom
Cougartown meets The Graduate, as Taylor Lautner must fend off a feisty Diane Keaton in his quest to win the heart of her daughter, Taylor Swift.
Back to Back to the Future: 3D
An obese movie nerd/computer geek (Jonah Hill) accidentally finds himself inside the 1985 cinema classic and hilarity ensues as he tries to cover his bumbling tracks without blowing it for Marty and Co.
Twitter: The Movie
Meg Ryan discovers that love really is blind when she discovers her number-one-follower-cum-love-interest is none other than Taylor Lautner, who happens to run a rival flower shop in idyllic Martha's Vineyard.
2 Many Jessicas
On the eve of his wedding day, Jonah Hill is forced to choose between Jessica Alba and Jessica Biel.
Since I am nothing but a whore, I promise not to slam these movies when they ultimately hit the megamultiplex--as long as I get 2% of the gross.
Dances With Wolves to Become a Broadway Musical!
(and remember--The Onion AV Club is not fake news)
Sunday, April 18, 2010
If pedophilia happens, doesn't that mean that it was God's will, as people so often say when tragedy strikes, since he is omnipresent and omnipotent?
If that is the case, then isn't there nothing we can do about it, since judgment is His job and not that of a mere mortal?
Also, as long as the guilty pervert priests confess, aren't they absolved of their sins and granted entry into heaven?
It's enough to make your fucking brain explode trying to make sense of religion...
Evidently, I'm not the only one with some of these questions...
Saturday, April 17, 2010
In the wake of the recent--and, admittedly, surprising--indictment of Goldman Sachs for fraud, Goldman alum/boot-licker Jim Cramer has had a particularly hard time keeping his famous temper under wraps.
During such tough times, when nobody else understands him, when everybody reminds him how often he's been wrong in the past, and he loses his voice from screaming too much, he has no choice but to call in sick and cry on the shoulder of his secret lover, Glenn Beck.
After all, if anybody understands a crier, it is Glenn Beck; if anybody understands the unfair situations that televised liars are put in, it is Glenn Beck.
But these two unfortunate media behemoths have had to be careful about their treasured trysts, since freedom-haters everywhere would love nothing more than to catch them in the act and ruin their lucrative careers by propagating lies in the liberal media.
This being the case, they wisely borrowed a page from the Book of Cruise/Travolta and only engage in homosexual liaisons while flying in a private plane, high above the prying eyes of truth-seekers.
And so it is that, just yesterday, after the inevitable crying-on-each-other's-shoulder foreplay at 30,000 feet, while deep in the throes of unbridled hate-fucking, Jim Cramer tried his best to scream--but no sound would come out!
Not one to go down without a fight, our Jim heroically summoned all his reserve energy and was finally able to emit a dog-whistle-pitched high-C-above-high-C-above-high-C.
Unfortunately, this superhuman effort also ruptured one of his numerous brain aneurysms and he immediately collapsed into a lifeless pile of bones and skin.
Always ahead of the game, Glenn picked up on Jim's death before it even happened, and had already begun the most hysterical crying jag of his entire life.
As soon as poor Glenn realized there were no cameras around to record his magnum opus, it was too much for him to handle and his own brain aneurysm finally fell victim to the communists.
Sadly, the tragedy did not end there, folks.
The dog-whistle screech emitted by St. Cramer shattered not only the eardrums of the two heroically-discreet pilots and the Tibetan-midget fluffer, but also every bit of glass in the entire plane.
The sudden loss of cabin pressure, inability to hear barked emergency orders, crazed midget, and mass confusion sent the luxurious, windowless Learjet 45 into a tailspin.
The doomed plane crashed to Earth somewhere in remote Tea-Bagger Appalachia, exploded on impact, and burned itself to dust, which was fittingly spread by the four winds over the country they loved perhaps too much, thus depriving the world of any evidence this ever happened.
As far as the rest of the world knows, thanks to the fine folks at FOX Propaganda, these two pillars of the American community merely had their fill of all the liberal bullshit choking America to death and bravely fled to Cayman Island obscurity--where the financial-criminal expats and descendants of slave traders know a thing or two about real freedom--to live out the rest of their lives in aristocratic peace, as historic heterosexual heroes who only have gay sex in private.
Wait, I'm not late for that bus, am I? Oops--sorry!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Two prominent British atheists--Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens--have huddled up with their lawyers and plan to make the case that The Fucking Pope should be arrested when he visits the UK.
For what? Crimes against humanity, for his part in the cover-up of Catholic Church Inc's heavenly history of sex-abuse.
Now, I am not naive enough to think this plan will actually work out the way it should, but I love the fact that we finally live in an age where somebody is trying--publicly--to shake the plebians out of their delusional slumber and slash a chunk of flesh off the arrogant church monster.
How great are these two dudes? Check this out:
Last month Dawkins wrote a scathing article for the Washington Post in which he called the pope:"A leering old villain in frock." Huzzah!A leering old villain in a frock, who spent decades conspiring behind closed doors for the position he now holds; a man who believes he is infallible and acts the part; a man whose preaching of scientific falsehood is responsible for the deaths of countless AIDS victims in Africa; a man whose first instinct when his priests are caught with their pants down is to cover up the scandal and damn the young victims to silence.
Hitchens told the Sunday Times of London: "This man is not above or outside the law. The institutionalized concealment of child rape is a crime under any law and demands not private ceremonies of repentance or church-funded payoffs, but justice and punishment."
And on a related note, check this out, also courtesy of HuffPo:
A prominent Old Testament scholar has resigned from a professorial position after he was recorded on video endorsing evolution.
Until several days ago, Bruce K. Waltke was a professor at Florida's Reformed Theological Seminary. But after the school found out about his video blog (the video has since been removed at Waltke's request) on the website of the BioLogos Foundation, which promotes harmony between science and theology, he lost his job.
According to several people who saw the video, Waltke said that Christianity's continued denial of evolution will "make [them] a cult."
Circle the wagons, religion, cuz the word is out--you're a cult!
It's no big surprise, I'm sure, but I take great satisfaction in the knowledge that at some point in the future, the religions of today will be as reviled as the pagans of yore. To each era of humanity their own, I guess.
Speaking of, I wonder what the future religions will be like...robots that smile beatifically as they grab you by the throat and squeeze until you swipe a credit card through a magnetized slit in their crotch?
Why not, right?
According to Der Spiegel, a German prisoner murdered a woman during an unsupervised six-hour-long conjugal visit on Sunday, using two knives and a wrench to stab and beat her to death.
The prisoner also slit his own wrists but doctors were (fortunately?) able to save him and continue spending tax dollars to keep him in good health for the next thirty years or so.
Why should this woman have seen it coming? Because the prisoner was serving 19 years for raping a 9-year-old girl and beating her to death.
Probably not the best guy to start a relationship with, definitely not the best guy to break-up with during a conjugal visit, especially if you have knives in your purse, especially if he looks like this:
Not quite Darwin Award material, but it sure is close.
The scariest thing about all this, however, is that the brutal murder could have a silver lining for the victim's now-orphaned child.
Instead of this monster being released next year and moving in with them--which surely would have resulted in this child's rape/death at some point--s/he can now live a long and fruitful life in foster care, in constant pant-wetting fear of the inevitable day this psycho escapes from prison--when the guards send him out to buy them some lottery tickets--and decides to finish the job.
Although using Kevin Connolly to play E was a missed opportunity for even more delicious parody, if you ask me...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Remember all those whacked out Dungeons and Dragons dudes who used to beat you up in high school?
Well, those harmless little cuties went on to college, where they graduated to fighting each other with cardboard swords covered in tinfoil on the Quad. After college, the mighty diehards among them carried the torch all the way to Ye Olde Renaissance Faire.
Those few, fortunate rogues chosen by the very Gods above, who eventually found these hilarious affairs tortuously tame, advanced further still, to the penultimate step--killing people with "a medieval-style battle ax."
LAS VEGAS — Sonia Lisset Castro said she pleaded for her life and that of her baby but the stranger attacking them with a medieval-style battle ax on a residential street only mocked her and kept hacking.
"I was saying in English, 'Please, please leave me alone!' But he wouldn't listen to me," Castro testified through tears and a Spanish translator Monday about the Feb. 11 attack that left her 4-month-old son, Damien, dead.
"Every time he would hit me, he would laugh out loud," she said. "I was begging him to let me go, and he was mocking me."
Castro peeled back a gauzy white scarf to show a Las Vegas judge the scars on the right side of her head where surgeons reattached her face and jaw. She said her right eye was irreparably damaged.
Montague is facing one charge of murder with a deadly weapon and three charges of attempted murder with a deadly weapon.
He is accused of stabbing his profoundly disabled sister-in-law at least 20 times in their home, then bursting outside and randomly attacking Castro as she walked past on the street with her son in a stroller. His sister-in-law, 36-year-old Monica O'Dazier, was treated at a hospital and released.
Montague told police he had no memory of the attacks, and defense lawyer Norm Reed has characterized his client as delusional and paranoid. But neither Reed nor defense lawyer Andrea Luem has sought to have Montague declared mentally unfit for trial.
A neighbor who dialed 911 as she witnessed the attack from her home also identified Montague as the assailant. Teresa Garner testified Monday that after Montague ran back inside his home, she went to Castro's aid near the curb and the overturned stroller.
"I saw the baby lying in the street, dead," sobbed Garner, a 52-year-old disabled former hotel worker. "I saw the mother, her face was completely gone ... bleeding profusely."
Garner said she later suffered an emotional breakdown and spent seven days in psychiatric care. She said she continues to take several prescription anti-anxiety medications daily. After appearing to fall asleep for a few moments during questioning by Luem, she said the medications make her drowsy.
On the 911 call, which was played for the judge, Garner is heard shrieking, "Oh my God! Her face is split open where he hit her with the hatchet!"
Police have said the ax had been hanging on a wall in Montague's home before he used it in the attack.
Montague's wife, Erricca Montague, testified that Harold Montague spent several sleepless nights pacing the floor, wasn't eating well, and appeared dehydrated the day of the attack.
Harold Montague had served since 2004 as the primary caregiver for O'Dazier, who Erricca Montague said has cerebral palsy and mental retardation, suffers seizures and can walk only a few steps with assistance.
Under questioning by Luem, Erricca Montague said her husband has smoked pot but never took other drugs or drank alcohol. She testified she didn't feel her husband was a danger to her, their three children or her disabled sister.
(courtesy Huffington Post)
One would hope that had fair young Harold realized the final step was 'execution by obese former high-school football players poured into correctional-facility uniforms' he would have humbly duct-taped his weapon back onto the otherwise-blank wall above his Playstation/masturbation chair and played with something for a while instead.
Even if it could have been colored as cowardice, it would have been a much more fruitful way to take his mind off how dreadfully boring his life is these days (ie, every day since he was born).
But we all know those guys were never actually very smart, so, you know, here we are...sitting in a chair somewhere, wishing his mother would have had an abortion all those years ago...
Friday, April 9, 2010
I guess it depends on what you're writing, what kind of chemistry you got goin' on in your body naturally--but what is most interesting about the list below is how unsurprising it is that so many writers depend/ed on some kind of drug in order to be productive.
Believe me, I can relate--if you knew how many horse tranquilizers I was snorting every day, your puny little unenlightened mind would explode.
Most of these associations are not terribly surprising, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning on laudanum? That one caught me off guard.
Good for her.
Bad for us:
Until the 20th century, laudanum was available over-the-counter, despite the fact that it contains opium, morphine, and codeine. Today, only infants born to heroin addicts or people with Guinness-record diarrhea can get permission to have a taste of that bitter delight.
Even more reason to try that muy picante salsa...
Much like laudanum, Benzedrine sounds like it was a whole lotta fun as long as you didn't know what it was doing to you in the long run...
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Sit down here on my knee, little boy, and let me tell you a story. Don't worry, I'm not a priest--you have nothing to fear.
That's a good boy...now where was I...oh, yeah:
Once upon a time, there was a successful family company that got a bit too big for its britches, was bursting at the seams, shall we say, and one of the owner's sons, the greedy one, decided this company had a great opportunity to balloon into a massive money machine. After much in-fighting, and maybe even the death of the old man, the greedy son got his way and sought the advice of a greedy banker, who was more experienced in this sort of thing.
In exchange for a large sum of money, the banker advised the company to seek outside capital in order to expand at an unreasonable rate, undercut competition, corner the market, and raise prices. Once the company went public, there was no turning back and everything went according to plan. The stock became increasingly valuable, the family grew wealthy beyond their wildest dreams, the wolfiest wolves in the wolf business acquired as much stock as they could get their hands on, and they quickly began hounding the executives for increasingly outlandish profits to satisfy their bottomless appetites.
Manufacturing was streamlined, raw materials were either bargained down to extortionate deals or vertically integrated right into the monster, labor unions were fought tooth and nail, pennies were pinched, and still it was not enough.
Over time, the family and its loyalists were either phased out, neutered, or converted. Hired guns were brought in, unsympathetic to the needs of other humans, and the successful business was rewired from the ground up.
Manufacturing was outsourced to China, customer service inquiries were fed to call centers in India, benefits were reduced for every employee not in the executive ranks, millions of dollars were spent in order to avoid responsibility for environmental damage, taxes were dodged, and lawyers and lobbyists were hired by the dozen to insulate the new company from all responsibility, to protect it from all restrictions.
Millions more were funneled to media conglomerates through Madison Avenue, in order to make this cold behemoth appear friendly. A revisionist vintage logo was drawn up, folksy commercials were produced, corporate practices were greenwashed, the truth was buried, and what had once been a profitable family company with visible virtues and flaws, with a sense of community, a (relative) sense of decency, is now little more than a cuddly, helpful, responsible wooden horse with a perverted profit monster inside, lying in wait for the best opportunity to murder the entire world in their sleep, as soon as there is a buck in it.
Now, who wants a fucking Twinkie?