raft ice on the MO_ve

The city is enjoying a January warm spell that is expected to carry into the next week. Over the last few years, I noticed a change in the weather patterns - especially in the fall, winter, and early spring.

Fall tends to be much drier than it used to be. Rarely do we have those lingering 2-3 days of soaking rains in October and November. They haven't disappeared entirely, but they are rare. This could be related to a long-term drought pattern that's been skirting the Midwest for the last 5-6 years.

The winter weather patterns have also changed quite a bit. Snow, and cold weather, if we have it at all, usually comes in early December. Most of December this year, we had some snow on the ground. Unfortunately not enough for x-country skiing, but enough to keep the temperatures down and the gas bills up. This is typically followed by a warm, and usually dry, January. With highs near 60 degrees and sunshine, it makes one pine for spring, cycling, or even paddling around on the river. Dodging the pack ice on the Missouri could be adventuresome but it's not recommended without a wetsuit. Remember Mr. Fish? We started with Mr. Fish back in April, 2007.

It's a hard to see scale in the above photo, but the circular ice raft is about 20 feet in diameter.

favorite psychics

Today Warrior Ant Press is pleased to announce a new feature. We will be profiling some of our favorite psychics over the coming months. Up first is ChiChi the Whispering Chihuahua. ChiChi will interpret your dreams and whisper them back to you. Sounds amazing, and IT IS!

Here's how ChiChi the Whispering Chihuahua works. Dogs have very sensitive hearing, it's much, much better than a humans. In fact the human ear can only hear about 1/10th of what a dog can hear. And Chihuahuas have the most sensitive hearing of all the dog breeds. Even by dog standards, ChiChi has very enhanced hearing, in fact, ChiChi's hearing is so sensitive that he can hear your innermost secrets. Chihuahuas also live for a long time (average life span of 112 years in human years) which enables them to be very wise.

ChiChi works in one of 2 ways and prices for ChiChi's service vary accordingly. In the first method, less reliable, ChiChi sleeps on one your pillows and listens to the chi of the pillow and then responds accordingly. In the second, more expensive method, ChiChi sleeps with you, either on your head, or in more extreme cases, has been known to burrow deep into the covers in search of your innermost secrets. ChiChi then interprets your dreams and reveals the answers to you. It's that simple!

Future psychics to be profiled by Warrior Ant Press include:
- Bob the Wandering Homeless Wonder.
- Shira of your Dreams.
- Jeeves.

bill o'reilly detained for being a jerk

Bill O'Reilly was detained by Secret Service agents today for being a jerk at a Barack Obama campaign event. O'Reilly was questioned briefly and then released on his own recognizance with the admonishment that "you're a racist, a twit, and a bully. Please go climb back into your Fox Hole."

voice projection

After 8 years of slurred speeches, dropped vowels, and mixed metaphors from on high, Americans are finally demanding enunciation and voice projection all the way to the back of the room from anyone who expects to hold the office.

Senator Barack Obama's eloquence on the stump gives us the same belief in possiblities that the last distinguished orator to hold the nation's highest office, Bill Clinton, did. Senator Clinton, while a good speaker, just doesn't rouse the same fevor in the crowd as does Obama.

Cultural change always preceeds politcal change. Hope is better than the reality we've been subjected to for many years now. People really do want to believe again that this country can be better and unfortunately for the blue-bloods, monarchists, and K-streeters there are many young people who'd rather volunteer for the cause than work for THE MAN. or WOMAN.

"You know they said, they said,they said this day would never come. They said...our sights were set to high. They said this country was too divided, too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose. But on this January night, at this defining moment in history, YOU have done what the cynics said we couldn't do. YOU have done what the state of New Hampshire can do in five days. YOU have done what America can do in this New Year, 2008. In lines that stretched around schools and churches, in small towns, and in big cities, you came together as Democrats, Republicans, and Independents to stand up and say that we are one nation. We are one people. And our time for change has come!...YOU said the time has come to move beyond the bitterness and pettiness and anger that's consumed Washington. To end the political strategy that's been all about division and instead, make it about addition, to build a coalition for change that stretches through red states and blue states. Because that's how we'll win in November, and that's how we'll finally meet the challenges that we face as a nation. We are choosing hope over fear. We're choosing unity over division and sending a powerful message that change is coming to America."

Barack Obama, excert from acceptance speech Iowa causus, Jan. 4, 2008

candidates hold after-iowa sale

The following items were posted on e-bay soon after last night's Iowa caucuses.

*Soul of a preacher. Minimum bid. One coondog, one squirrel rifle, one popcorn popper. Will substitute Walker Texas Ranger badge for the coondog.

*Five brothers, and their 20 wives. POD.

*Set of G.I. Joe action figures, including the hard-to-find 60's Peace, Love, and Understanding one that skipped the draft and went to Woodstock.

*Boxed set of all 3,150 episodes of Law and Order. signed by 6,223 of the 13,400actors who have appeared in the episodes.

*Hillary Nutcracker. $21.99.

*Dreams of My Father. A very rare copy signed B.Obama, Sr. and below that Jr., Slightly dog-eared but still a fine copy. Online auction closes August 28th, 2008.

*X-files - the movie and numerous Dana Scully paraphernalia including alien autopsy clothes.

Package of Al Gore memorabilia including pre-An Inconvenient Truth Powerpoint Presentation that runs on Windows 2000 and not on an iMac.

who's suckering whom?

Candidates will have spent $50 million dollars on television ads in Iowa before day's end. And this during a time of the year when only farmers and relatives would dare venture outside or visit the place. Couple that with the amount spent by the press and the campaign workers and you have a tourism campaign that would make Coloradians proud.

Since only 300,000 Iowans are expected to caucus, the tv ads alone amount to $167 per caucus-goer. Wouldn't the state (and the nation) be better off if we gave them all a gift card to Farm Tractor Supply instead?

Iowa is also big on another boondoggle, ethanol production, so we suggest a new tourism slogan for the state.
Iowa, land of ethanol and the caucus, where boondoggles come true.

48 days, week 3

Monday, 11:10 pm.
Jack Bauer is spending New Year's eve in solitary confinement at the Glendale City jail. He sends at text message to Nina at CTU. "Ramirez is the man-in-the-chicken suit. He can lead you to Salazaar."

Nina comes back, "we're w/ U. Ramirez drinking @ Clear Lake HolidayN. Almeda has him covered. Stay strong. LOL."

Monday, 11:45 pm.
Hector Ramirez squeezes into the crowded bar, elbows his way between David Pouffe, Barack Obamas' campaign manager, and Jennifer Rowland, Barack's chief speechwriter. Ramirez leans over the bar, loosens his tie, slams his glass on the bar and shouts over the blasting karioke to the bartender, "Another!"

"Same as before? Manhattan? with Jim Beam and rye?" the bartender asks.

"That's an odd twist on a strange city" Rowland says outloud and then turning to Ramirez, "you can't be from around here."

"Make that two!" Hector calls to the bartender. When the drinks come he drops a twenty down, "Happy New Year," then slides the other drink over to Jennifer, "what's a beautiful Manhattanite doing in Clear Lake on New Year's Eve?"

"I'm from LA. Barack Obama brought me to Iowa. Richie Valens, Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and boredom brought me to Clear Lake."

"Oh, yeah," Hector says smiling, "didn't they all crash and burn in a corn field in Iowa?"

"Everyone except Obama," Pouffe interrupts, "he's still flying high."

"I'm sorry," Hector says, "I didn't know you two were together. Anyway, after the caucuses, he'll be back down to earth."

"We have a working relationship." Jennifer interjects, "What, you know something we don't?"

"Don't trust the polls when you know the score."

Monday, 11:59 PM
Hector, Jennifer, and David, wearing party hats and blowing paper horns are counting down, "five, four, three, two, one!!!" David, who can hardly stand, blows feebly on a paper horn. Hector raises his glass to Jennifers, "To the New Year, a victory in the caucus, and then on to New Hampshire!" She smiles at him, then moves close to kiss him.

Tony Almeda watches the dance from the other end of the bar....

"So I'll see you at the victory celebration?" Jennifer says to Hector.

Hector smiles, "Whoever scores the most, wins. You wanna be a winner?" then points at Pouffe who's now passed out on the bar, "or a loser?"

Tuesday, 12:01 AM
Jack can hear a muffled celebration throughout the jail as inmates bang anything they can find against the bars. In the darkness, Jack's cell phones buzzes with a text message. "Happy New Year Dad. love Kim." Jack begins sobbing.

Tuesday, 2:00 pm.
Jennifer pulls open the door of the Obama bus which is idling outside of a diner and steps inside with 2 cups of to-go coffee. She hands one of the coffees to David Pouffe. "Where's Obama?" Pouffe takes a drink of coffee, then starts to gag.

"Rough night?" Jennifer mocks. "You know, for a campaign manager you're a lightweight. And you suck at karioke."

"Karioke? I don't remember that part."

"I didn't think so. There's a part of last night that I'd prefer not to remember."

"Barack's at the event. He wasn't happy that you weren't here this morning. I covered for you and told him you were researching the latest HRC ad."

"There's a new one?"

"Yeah, it shows her meeting with Benazir Bhutto and runs the lines, "I knew Benazir as a leader. She wasn't afraid of standing up to power, and at this critical time in our nation, I won't either. We need a strong leader, one who isn't afraid to stand for change."

"What a crock of shit. She probably had tea and crumpets with Bhutto while Bill shumped a servant in the kitchen. She's clueless, but it sounds like it might play well. Isnt't it a little soon to be trying to capitalize on the assisination of a leader. Should we play up pandering? or the war?"

"Barack wants to leave it alone, I thought otherwise, you were nowhere to be found, so we're in a holding pattern. Did you have fun last night?"

"After I put your lame ass to bed, yes, I had a ball. Did you learn to drink like that with your soft Harvard pals?"

"Fuck you," Pouffe mutters under his breath as he walks off the bus, out into the cold, and pukes on the ground.

Wednesday, 8:00 AM
CTU director Mason picks up the phone "What do you have on Ramirez?" he asks Tony Almeda.

"He was snorking one of Barack's aides last night. They ended up at Denny's for breakfast."

"Any sign of Salazaar, or the chicken suit?"

"Not yet."

"The President is ready to pull the ropes on CTU and turn the investigation over to Secret S. SS will immediately arrest Ramirez because they consider him a danger to the candidates. If that happens, we lose our chance to get to Salazaar. Find them both, NOW!"

Thursday, 2:45 PM
Mike Hukabee drives past a large crowd of picketers, supporters, and press through the NBC Burbank Studios gate for the taping of that evening's Tonight Show with Jay Leno.

Thursday, 10:55 PM
Nina, bored with the inaction at CTU, is scanning the web. She trolls past the United Hollywood blog to check for the latest strike info. A video posting entitled, "Mike Huckabee is a scab!" catches her attention. She plays it. In the opening seqeuence, a limosine drives past hordes of picketing WGA members at the NBC west gate. Something catches her attention. She calls Almeda over. "Tony. Check this out!"

Thursday, 10:58 PM
"Right there. Stop it right there! Now zoom in on the man standing just outside the gate. Now blow it up. There! Look at that." Almeda squints at the image and sees a man-in-a-chicken-suit holding a placard. The placard reads "Mike Huckabee is a scab. Watch Letterman @ 11."

Thursday, 11:00 PM
The desk seargent at Glendale City Jail shuffles into the break room, pulls a beer from the fridge, props his feet on the table, uncorks the beer, takes a long pull, then points his remote at the portable tv sitting on the couter. We hear, "From the CBS studios in New York City, it's the Late Show, with David Letterman."

Friday, 8:00 AM
"Well, did you watch?" Nina says to Tony.

"I fell asleep after the monologue and Robin Williams."

"So you didn't hear the taped message from HRC?"

Friday, 10:00 AM
Barack is screaming at David Pouffe who appears on the verge of tears, "the Letterman Show? on the first night when he's back after 3 months off. Why not us, why HRC? Did you know about this?"

"Yyyeess..." Pouffe stammers, "Letterman hates Oprah. Oprah supports you. You're out. HRC is in. The enemy of my enemy is my enemy."

"It's the enemy of my enemy is my friend, you twit".

"Everyone's your enemy in politics and Hollywood."

"Make something happen, and happen quickly, or you're out Pouffe. For good!"

Saturday, 10:00 AM
Salazaar sits by the pool, then looks up slowly from his paper when his phone rings. He looks at the caller id - Ramirez, secure. "I told you never to call me before noon, Hector. This better be important."

"David Pouffe has something to say to you."

"Put him through."

see also:
m.o.i.: 48 days, week 2
m.o.i.: 48 days, week 1
m.o.i.: Damn it! I just can't do this anymore.

zero tolerance for conspiracy and torture

In a NY Times editorial dated January 2nd, 2008, Thomas H. Kean and Lee H. Hamilton, who served as chairman and vice chairman, respectively, of the 9/11 commission, call the actions of the C.I.A. Director as well as those of White House counsels with regards to the commission's request for all evidence related to their lawful legal investigation - OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE, just as Warrior Ant Press suggested in several December, 2007 posts (see links below). The 9-11 Commission, technically known as the National Commission on Terrorist Acts Upon the United States, was an independent, bipartisan commission created by Congress and signed into law by President Bush in September 2002. Then C.I.A. Director George Tenet, then Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, as well as C.I.A. and White House counsels, including such luminaries as Harriet Myers and Alberto Gonzales, ignored repeated requests for evidence from the commission and also lied about knowledge of such evidence. These were felony crimes.

Where 2 or more parties come together in the name of obstruction, it is also known as conspiracy to commit obstruction of justice. Also a felony crime. It's time for folks on the hill to step up to the convictions of the vast majority of U.S. citizens and take action against these evil-doers and say zero tolerance for torture and zero tolerance for obstruction of justice. Say it loud. Under U.S. Code, Title 18, Part I, Chapter 73, §ec. 1505, penalties for obstruction of justice alone could include a $250,000 fine and up to 8 years in prison.

see also:
m.o.i.: bringing some light to a dark hour
m.o.i.:: insane clown posse

elsewhere:
9-11 commission calls it obstruction
what is 9-11 commission?

tiger mauls again!

Dallas, Texas.

Another tiger escaped from captivity today in Dallas and went on a rampage. Onlookers reported that the most serious injuries were to a number of Arkansas Razorbacks, including the All-American Darren McFadden, who was thoroughly whupped and embarrassed on national television.

Final score. Mizzou 38, Arkansas 7.

new year's superstitions - black-eyed peas

It's a southern superstition that if you don't eat peas on New Year's day you'll have bad luck for the entire year. Trust m.o.i, it's not worth the risk to do without, so the first day of the year is never complete without black-eyed peas.

There are many variants on black-eyed peas, everyone has their own recipe, and I like to sorta make mine up as I go, but there are a few essential ingredients that must go in the pot every year. Most all of these ingredients have to do with superstitions about the coming year. Although, entirely at odds with life's evidence, as I get older I tend toward more superstition, which is just another word for tradition. Some of these superstitions make about as much sense as the Iowa caucuses, but that doesn't prevent folks from making a big deal about them.

Like a lot of southern cooking, black-eyed peas starts with the holy trinity of the Deep South - onions, peppers, and celery. Traditionally, these would have sauteed in bacon grease, but olive oil makes more sense so use that instead. You'll still need some salted, smoked meat in the pot, unless you're a vegetarian and you can make some kick ass vegetarian peas. I typically throw a variety of samll pieces of leftover meats that I've squirelled away from the recent holidays into the pot, one of which must be ham. A little fat, so your year won't be so lean. Smoked turkey is great as well. Do not throw the meat in at the beginning of the cooking process though; first render the fat from any bacon, ham, or pork that may end up in the pot by sauteing and then draining the fat from it. You're really after the flavor here, not so much the fat. Years that are a little lean are usually those worth remembering the most. After rendering the meat, set it aside only to add during the last 30 minutes of cooking.

Use a large, heavy pot. I use a cast iron dutch oven for mine which my mom gave to me. Begin by sauteing the onions, peppers, and celery. Again in olive oil. This year I used a mixture of poblanos and anaheim peppers, because you want plenty of spice in your life. Dice everything coarsely, and use the leafy part of the celery as well. You want some green stuff in your life as well. Then add several cloves of minced garlic. Several to me means 5 or 6 of the German stiff-necked variety. This is more pungent that the typical store bought variety and you can usually get this at Whole Foods, or better yet, from your garden. Saute everything until they wilt. Do not overcook.

Next add your black-eyed peas to the pot. Use fresh peas if you can find them, otherwise use the dry ones. If using dry beans, then soak them for at least an hour (or overnight) before adding them to the pot. Pick through the beans to discard any bad ones or grit that someones come with the dry peas.

Add cold water and several cups of the stock of your choice. I like to use vegetable stock even when I make peas with meat. This adds to add to the variety of flavors, and we want as much variety in the coming year as we can stand. Add a bay leaf (more green leaf!). Bring to a boil, and then cover and simmer slowly. Like most of southern cooking the idea that you have to cook it all day isn't true. You want to cook it slowly so that all those lovely flavors meld togther into one harmious essence but you only have to cook till it's done.

Fresh peas cook within an hour, dry peas take about 2. Give yourself about 3-4 hours to make this dish as you'll likely be trying to catch glimpses of parades and football and administering to those who were foolish enough to drink to excess last night while your pot comes together. You can't sleep in if you're in charge of the peas or everyone will have a bad year -juju you don't want on your head - so be responsible the night before or you'll forget an essential ingredient. Whatever you do, don't hurry the pot. Relax, you go a whole year ahead of you.

Other spices to add. I like the year to be a little sweet so I add some tarragon and my secret ingredient, a whole vanilla bean split in half. A little cumin, some oregano, some marjoram, works well. Let everything cook for an hour or two and then taste and adjust the spices accordingly. Then let it cook for another half hour before adding any meat to the mixture and let those flavors meld for 20 minutes before any final adjustments to the spices are made. Remove the vanilla bean and bay leaf, then add 2 cups of frozen okra to the top of the pot. Let that cook for 10 minutes and you're ready to serve. Down home we call this doubling down as the okra thickens the peas and gives you more green!

Serve with piping hot cornbread, friends, and family. Good luck!

mike huckabee is a scab

Faith. Family. Freedom.

This is Mike Huckabee's campaign slogan.

Wednesday he's crossing a picket line to appear on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. The Tonight Show is resuming despite not having writers and Leno (also a Writers Guild of America Member) is going back to work to save the jobs of those who work for him, otherwise they would be laid off by NBC. Mike Huckabee is appearing on the show because, in addition to being dumb-as-a-doornail and a cult member, he's a SCAB. In his world, Jesus loves everyone except the union rank-and-file.

The only production company to have reached an accord with the Writer's Guild of America is Worldwide Pants, David Letterman's company that produces the Late Show and the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. This means that Letterman and Ferguson will have a monologue and Leno will not. Leno's show is resuming without any written material. He can still do interviews, man-in-the-street skits, ad-lib on photos, but can't work up written jokes. The Daily Show and the Colbert Report are also in the same predicament, which could stretch the comic muscle of John Stewart and Stephen Colbert because these shows are heavily scripted. Comedy that appears spontaneous isn't. It, like public speaking, requires many rewrites to appear fluid and remain funny. Jokes are heavily vetted before appearing on air.

Mike Huckabee may be a preacher, a member of a rock band, but he's certainly no politcian.

resolved in '08: keep grinding

Warrior Ant Press resolutions for the New Year.

Zero tolerance for torture.
Lose 10 pounds.
Impeach George Bush and Dick "the Dick" Cheney.
Start smoking cigarettes.

warrior ant press 10th anniversary

We're not real big on birthday celebrations but here's one we want to mention before the year gets away from us. Warrior Ant Press was 10 years old this past November. This is an image from the first Minister of Information piece, taken at a show of William F. Burroughs called "Shootings and Paintings" whereby Burroughs hung a bunch of his work that had first been painted and then shot up with guns and/or bows and arrows. The show was messy crap, but the public came en masse to see the showman and buy some of his work before he passed on.

Burroughs, who was completely stoned at the opening on a mixture of heroin and alcohol was propped into the corner where he greeted the gathering, fawning, cognesceti eager to shake his hand and gush praise. He hardly noticed that I was dressed in a gold-leafed Class A hazmat suit when I sat across from him, scanned him with Geiger counter, then took his photo. I immediately began to manipulate the Polaroid image, much to the horror of those gathered around, then was offered $500 cash for the image - which I refused. Burroughs was oblivious to all the commotion. After he passed out, I took his chair and the cognesceti assumed that I was part of the show and asked for my autograph. I gladly obliged.

The text above the images reads, "Shoot every author orator permit nothing true" was an assemblage from the gallery brochure with a nod to a technique Burroughs used early in his career of cutting and rearranging the text of other writers. Burroughs is flanked by images of a pile of human excrement that was in the gallery parking lot, one taken on my way into the gallery and the other on my way out. The first is marked Crap ,and labeled revolutionary, and the other marked More of the Same Crap, and labeled visionary again with text lifted from the brochure.

Recycle Art. Manipulated Polaroids, gold and silver leaf, found objects on paper, 1997, 8" x 12"

2008 predictions from warrior ant press

Ten things that may come to pass in 2008.

*A new television network will emerge from the writer's strike which won't be settled until after the November elections. Called FTW, For the Win, the network will feature only shows that pit contestants against one another. Just some of the shows on tap at FTW:

--*Fed by Spears -- The raucus pilot begins just as Britney finds out that K-Fed is really the father of Jamie Lynn's baby! Then we follow the trio through the courts and into rehab and back again in the custody battle of the century. With Judge Mathis presiding, it's winner take ALL THE KIDS. Losers pay alimony, court costs, and the therapist bills.

--*Auf'd the Campaign Trail --Follows the crazy antics of Rudy Gulliani on (and auf) the campaign trail as he tries to become President. Americans tune in droves for the sex, swearing, and lying. As the election nears, and to boost ratings among gays and security moms, Gulliani replaces his campaign staff with a team of make-over artists that includes Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, Ty Pennington, and Tom Bergeron. Rudy then storms the campaign trail in a Utilikilt preaching tolerance, 9/11, and family values. Miraculously, the ploy works because Mike Huckabee can't remember why the US and France are allies; a video clip of Mitt Romney coming out of the restroom with Larry Craig turns up on TMZ; Fred Thompson quits after the California primary, stating, "I make more money in Law and Order residuals than the President does in a year, what the hell's the point in that?";and during an appearance on American Gladitors to prove he's the toughest candidate, John McCain suffers post-tramatic stress while jousting, gets knocked into the water and nearly drowns. A cell phone video of the event will become the most-watched YouTube video of the year.

*Dick "the Dick" Cheney will suffer another heart attack, his 9th, and perish only to surprise the devil himself by coming back to life once the embaling fluid reaches his heart.

*George Bush will remain in office but "the Dick" will still be in charge.

*Bono will play himself in a movie even appearing as himself during his early childhood, will stop wearing those goofy-ass shades everywhere, and will negioate a temporary peace in war-torn Pakistan.

*In an effort to bolster her flagging campaign, Hillary Rodham Clinton, will ditch Celine Dion for Snoop Dogg, who always wanted to 'pop that bitch'.

*Much to Hillary's dismay, the Dogg convinces Chelsea Clinton to make a guest appearance on his reality show Fatherhood, they fall in love, and live happily ever after.

*Barack Obama will become the second bi-racial candidate (after Bill Clinton) to be nominated for the Presidency. The swing state of Michigan will play heavily in the election and ultimately cause the ruination of Obama due to high number of illiterate voters who confuse his name with that of Osama bin Laden. "'Ain't voting for no terrorist, 'cause if I do, they will have won" one disgruntled voter will be heard to say.

*After being elected President, Rudy Gilliani will be linked to truthers, but the Supreme Court will refuse to rule against the notion that 'it was in the country's best interest to start World War III.'

buck up pardners

The Sprint Center, a downtown concept arena, opened its doors recently in Kansas City. It's opening was bolstered by a ten show gig by Good 'Ole Boy and Walmart shopper Garth Brooks. City Manager, Wayne Cauthen, who was in Denver when Coors Field opened, loves grown-ups hooping and hollerin', wearing their Sunday-go-to-meeting cowboy boots and hats, and spending lots of money in the city. Last night the Sprint Center hosted the World's Toughest Cowboy Rodeo along with a Party in the Dirt by the latest Boothell buzz, Trent Tomlinson.

Rodeo, according to the sponsors of the World's Toughest Cowboy, is one of America's fastest growing sports. I thought that was Nascar, but here I think we're talking the same demographics. Go to the rodeo if you haven't been in a while and you can find out why George Bush in in office. God, the flag, and standing tall, all for sale, and a shot of Jagermeister on the side. BooRah.

And since there's so much competition for our entertainment dollars and attention, this rodeo starts with explosions, backlighting, and hip-hop dubs. For those not familiar with the Toughest Cowboy concept, and I wasn't, it's this. It's a made-for-tv event. What isn't? This rodeo is series of indoor arena events that are held during the winter, the typically off-season of the sport. This keeps the concept in the minds of the audience and allows the promoters to go into previously untapped, or understaturated markets. "Twelve of the toughest hombres on the planet" are paired against each other in 3 rodeo events at each arena stop. Since this was the first event this year, I'm not sure how they were ranked, but each competitor is seeded. One goes against 12, two against 11, and so forth. For each round, there are three: bareback, saddle bronc and bull riding, they are given a score. Two out of three wins the head-to-head and the highest total points is declared the winner of that evenings event. As the events progress throughout the tournament, people start to get eliminated until the final rodeo pits the last remaining 4 and they compete to win among other things the Jagermeister Ranch, which apparently is a place somewhere out West that cowboys and George Bush still dream about.

And because audiences tend to drift off the deep end if things aren't happening all the time, it moves fast. Between event changes we have barrel races, "Who doesn't like "pretty ladies on horseback!" the announcer says, but at least there's prize money (amount not stated) and chuckwagon races, which is like a cross between a dirt-track and a chariot race but with a team of horses and dudes in cowboy hats carrying cell phones, everyone going in circles with lot's of dirt flying around. Plus, there's ample time for promotions of the sponsors products. The Jagermeister girls shooting t-shirts into the upper deck. The Polaris paper airplane toss - "win $50,000 worth of ATVs!", and the cattle dog with the monkey-on-its-back who makes the sheep run up the ramp and jump down into the tiny, tiny portable pen.

In short, the World's Toughest Cowboy competition is like a big rodeo party. At the end, they raise that night's winner up in the air on a giant triangle thingy while buckin' broncs snort and cavort about the arena beneath him. Yes, pardners, they really did this. There's even an after-party.

Last night's after-party was hosted by Trent Tomlinson, who is the second biggest county-rock star to emerge from the same town where Sheryl Crow hails from. Trent, who landed 2 top forty country hits with his first cd sings a lot about drinking, his drinking girlfriend, and hanging out with his family drinking 'neath a shade tree.

The best endorsement I've heard about Tomlinson was from the counter woman at Alford's Pit Bar-B-que. "Why, he's a sweetheart. Comes to visit me every time he comes home." There you go, just like Mike Huckabee - Faith. Family. Freedom. The music though? It sucks balls...of the World's Toughest Cowboy.

i wish. i wish i could say.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that all the snow could be removed from the walk with a few, quick strokes of the broom. And that it wouldn't come back in even deeper drifts. That a 50 percent blend of Sulawesi and Yemeni beans made a perfectly piquant cup of French press. That all of the storm windows purchased last fall had been put on the house. And that the house was clean, or even organized.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that the high-efficiency gas logs were just that; and that I could trust them not to suffocate me during the night if left on. That work was always fulfilling. That going home for the holidays wasn't always steeped in television, alcohol, and racism.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I cold say that impetuosity didn't drive so many of my decisions. I wish Caroline would take off her glasses, squint, and say "yummy goodness" after dinner. That writing was effortless. That the snow was deep enough for skis. Or better yet, snowshoes. That I was less judgemental, more temperamental, more forgiving.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that all the time spent reading books had made me a better person; better than not having spent that same time among people. That I knew with certainty just one of the following: that I was attractive, charming, or interesting to H., whom I meet last week and who hasn't returned my phone call.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that my mother was still alive. That her death hadn't affected me so. That my father had always been so sweet. That I was less familiar with addiction. That I had spent more time in church; that I wasn't an atheist. That a year, month, or even a week went by that I didn't say to myself, 'you're crazy.'

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that I knew the bounds of gravity and had overcome them. At least once. That the strong attraction wasn't always so strong and that we could release it and walk through walls. That we could remember each others name. That someone might stop by unexpectedly.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish that I could say how proud I was to know you. That you are accomplished. And smart. And that you make me smile. That I miss you. That I long to hold you again. That there was a cure for lung cancer.

I wish.
I wish I could say.
I wish I could say that I was in the clear, out of the woods, and on my way. That there was a better way. A better way to say it. But there doesn't appear to be. Not today. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, or next year, but not today.

I wish.
I wish I could say.

-----------------------

Peace, Joy, and a New Year to you. All the love.

myspace, your dna

Next year's buzz gift? It just well may be a personal genetic scan for you and your family. For an introductory price of less than a $1000 you can have your DNA code scanned and then placed in an online database that is accessible to you, your friends, and your family. What chance do you have of getting the Hearbreak of Psoriais*? You can find out.

*Psoriais is just one of 18 diseases that the program covers.

find out more:
the heartbreak of psoriasis

48 days, week 2

Week 2
Sunday. 3:00 A.M.
Jack Bauer, imprisoned in the Glendale City Jail, tosses in the upper bunk, mutters what sounds like "chicken, watch out for the chicken" then bolts upright. "Jack?" his cellmate Vincent calls out. "You OK brother? It's been a week man, the feel for the hard stuff ought to be outta you."

"No, it's not that. I saw something last night that troubles me."

"You still ragging on that man-in-the-chicken-suit jazz? Give it up brother. Ain't nothing you can do about it here. And the warden, he thought you'd lost your mind, he was ready to put you in the padded room."

"Fuck the warden."

"Amen to that. But watch out, he likes to be on top."

"I'm telling you Vincent, that chicken suit is bad news. I've got to get out of here. Now!"

"Don't we all, Jack, don't we all."

Sunday. 14:00 PM.
"Yeah", Tony Almeda picks up the phone at this desk in CTU headquarters.

"Tony, shhh!it's me," he hears Nina on the other end. "Listen, I've got news from Jack."

"Jack? How? No one from CTY is supposed to talk to him."

"I didn't. Jeff Green, he got picked up last night near Malibu for being an ass, spent the night in the drunk tank, then got transferred to Glendale, before his Larry David kicked him free this morning."

"Green? the writer? the fat-fuck?"

"Yeah that's him. Apparently, when he's been drinking he's not so funny. And since the strike started that's all he's done. Last night, he and Nikki Finke got a little carried away at BooRah, Malibu's latest buzz restaurant. Apparently they were having a little too much fun at Brad Grey's expense who was across the room."

"What's this got to do with Jack?"

While Green was at Glendale, he overheard the desk sargeant going on and on about a stink that Jack was raising the night before; said Jack almost got committed he was acting so crazy."

"What about?"

"Apparently it had something to do with a man in a chicken suit."

Monday. 10:00 AM.
David Pouffe, aid to Senator Barack Obama, bangs on the door of the charter bus. The door opens, he steps inside, greets a few members of the volunteer staff, motions to Obama who listening to his iPod.
"
"Listen, Barack, we got word that the man-in-the-chicken-suit may be showing up at some more events later today."

"No, we're cool. I talked to HRC. It's an old joke between us. A dude in beaver coat and raccoon hat will be filming her today."

"Problem is, this FogHorn Leghorn wasn't Hillary's joke. The man she hired was found this morning at the Hampton Inn just off I-29 near Des Moines. He was hanging from shower rod, still in costume, his entrails going down the drain. This dude that greeted you, we're not real sure who he is, but we think he's dangerous."

"What's his beef?"

"He knows you don't eat chicken."

"I always knew Colonel Sanders was a racist."

Monday. 10:00 AM.
A car pulls into the Sonic in Dubuque, Iowa. Inside is a woman named Bridgit. She orders a Breakfast Toaster sandwich and a large coffee. Then asks if they have whole wheat bread and turbinado sugar. When her order comes she pays with a $20 dollar bill, says "Merry Christmas! Keep the change." to the young carhop, then rolls up the window. Her cells phone rings.

"You got it?"

Bridget opens the Sonic bag and looks inside. "Got it."

Tuesday. 11:00 A.M.
Hillary Clinton, wearing a green pantsuit stands on a makeshift stage constructed of hay bales and some old John Deere signs. There are combines parked strategically to her left and right and in the cabin of one sits a Secret Service agent and in the other, Tony Almeda. They are furtively scanning the crowd. It's a brisk fall day, perfect for football, so even though the man they are looking for stands out amid the Carharts and seed caps, most in the crowd don't bother to look his way. However, pay give much thought although one farmer nudges his wife when the man in the raccoon coat and coonskin hat brushes past them and says, "Look Merle, I bet that's one of those Times writers".

Tuesday. 11:02 P.M.
Tony Almeda says into his lapel. "Nina, he's behind you, 5-O'clock."
Nina turns and moves toward the man. He's approaching the stage both hands in his pockets. Nina abruptly slams into the side of him, knocking him to the ground. She falls on top of him. She pulls the man to his feet by the lapels holding them so he can't raise his arms. "I'm so sorry. Clumsy me." she says to the perplexed onlookers. To the man she whispers, "See those guys in the combines. One wrong move and they'll blow your fucking brains out. Now turn around and come with me."

The man opens his coat and tries to put his hand inside. Nina grabs his wrist, there is audible 'crack', the man winches but does not cry out.

Wednesday. 3:06 A.M.
Tony Almeda walks out of the interrogation room, sweat runs down his forehead. CTU Director George Mason confronts him, "anything?"

"Nothing yet."

"Keep it up. We've got to get something, and soon. Obama is scheduled to make another appearance in a few hours."

Wednesday, 10:45 A.M.
Mason looks over Nina's shoulder as she works on a computer, "what have you got on this guy we picked up yesterday?"

"Jason Park, former envoy to South Korea under the Carter Administration. Hasn't worked in politics since. Spent some time on K-street aftwards...pharmacueticals...tobacco industry...farm lobby, usual stuff. Grew up on a cattle ranch near Omaha. Disappeared for a few years in the early 90's though. That's all we got on him for now."

"Keep working. We've got to get something from him."

Wednesday, 5:15 P.M.
Jack Bauer, sits in the canteen with his cellmate Vincent, they are eating dinner. An greasy Mexican, tattoos covering his neck, walks behind them. Jack pushes back from the table, knocking the man, causing him to spill the contents of his tray.

"You're going to lick those eggs off my boots Pussy, and then you're going to bring me your food. I like 2 sugars in my coffee." He smiles at Jack.

"I'm sorry," Jack says, turns away briefly then wheels and clocks the man.

A huge melee ensues. Guards quickly surround them, pull them apart, restrain them, the drag Jack away. "You're a dead man, Bauer!" the Mexican spits at him. Jack stares back.

Wednesday, 6:45 P.M.
The door opens on a solitary cell. Jack Bauer, bruised and bleeding is drug into cell and dumped. He slowly opens his eyes, then reaches into his waistband and removes a cellphone.

Wednesday, 7:15 P.M.

Nina's cell phone rings.

"Nina, it's Jack."

"OH My God! Jack!"

Thursday, 9:45 A.M.
Nina, Tony, and Director Mason are looking through a see-through window onto an interrogation room. Inside a man, wearing a coonskin cap and raccoon coat is slumped over the desk.

Thursday, 10:00 A.M.
Mason looks at Tony. "Are you sure about this? Is this legal?"

"Doesn't matter." Almeda replies, "The future of the Presidency may hang in the balance."

"This man is the key." Nina says to them both. "You have to do it. That's what Jack said."

Thursday, 11:00 A.M.

The Obama entourage pulls into the parking lot of the Centerville High School. David Pouffe looks over at Obama. "You sure about this? We could cancel. Say you've got the flu."

Obama looks up from the latest issue of Maxim, "what, and have people say I'm black, AND a pussy? No way. I'm in this till the end."

A high school band begins to play, America the Beautiful, the bus doors open, and Obama smiling broadly steps into the crowd.

Thursday, 11:10 A.M.
Eddie Salazaar stands beside his car on a gravel road, hood up, steam pouring from beneath the hood, talking into a cell phone. An elderly, farm couple driving a pick-up truck pulls up along side him asks if he needs help. The man goes into a long story, he's in town covering the primaries, has to be Centerville at 11 cover this event, he's already late, got lost, then his car overheats. Of all the luck. The couple says, "we're headed that way, we could give you a lift."

"Really? Folks in Iowa are so kind. Just let me get my camera gear." The man pops the trunk and pulls a heavy duffle bag and sets it on the ground. The farmer, steps from the truck, "here let me help you" and he moves toward the bag.

As the farmer approaches, Eddie Salazaar pulls a 45 with a silencer and shots the man in the forehead, then opens the passenger door and pulls the man's wife out. She screams at the sight of her husband laying face down, blood seeping into the gravel. "I'm not going to hurt you." Eddie says.

Eddie walks her to the shoulder. "Turn around. Get down on knees!" he shoves her toward the ditch.

She sobs, "don't shoot me. What do you want from us?"

The truck pulls away revealing two prone bodies.

Friday, 7:00 A.M.
A man is strapped to board, his hands and feet bound, his face covered with a cloth. The table is slanted so the man's feet are above his head. The tail of a coonskin cap can be seen trailing off the table. Water is dripping from the end of the tail. The man is gasping is air.

Tony Almeda emerges from the room. CTU Director Mason confronts him. "Well? Did he talk?"

"Yeah, he talked. After he shat himself."

Saturday 5:00 P.M.
A slot opens in the center of Jack Bauer's cell door. He slides his uneaten food back to the guard. "You gotta eat something" the guard says.

"Not hungry." Jack grunts. When the slot closes, Jack slides down into a fetal position, begins to sob. Then he takes out his cell phone, punches in some numbers. A woman answers.

"Kim?"

"Dad? is that you? Where are you?"

"Merry Christmas, baby, I love you."

see also:
m.o.i.: 48 days, week 1
m.o.i.: Damn it! I just can't do this anymore.

there's gold in them there hills?

After just 26 short episodes, YouTube has acquired the syndication rights to Speechless, the video series starring A-list actors, who make silent screen appearances in support of the writer's strike. It's now in reruns! I haven't seen anything as absurd since the plot line of National Treasure 2. Ron Paul saw NT2 this weekend, along with at least 5 million other Americans, and believes that the treasure unveiled in the movie may hold to the key to our budgetary woes.

wintry mix

Ignoring the advice of Chappe the Chaplain who said, "don't go! don't go! you'll die if you go!" we went anyway. We didn't die, although we did encounter every possible type of winter weather in a 4.5 hour stretch. Snow. Sleet. Freezing rain. Snow pellets. Mixtures of snow, sleet, freezing rain, and rain. Such a bummer, having to drive 50 mph on the interstate - even when you life depends upon it - which I suppose it did.

We made it to St. Louis, where if you don't have a restaurant named after you, you're not really a true sports star in this town. In one shopping district alone, there are 3 restaurants named after former or current Cardinal baseball or football players. We opted for Pujols 5, a dynamic American restaurant, which appeared to mean a sports bars cum fine?dining restaurant mixed in with the sounds of Boom! Boom is a disco cover band that rocked the house with a non-stop opening ofBoogie, Woogie, Oogie, Get Down Tonight, Boogie Man, and Brick House. Save something for later? No way! You need a band for your wedding, then this is the one for if you want to get everyone on the dance floor.

Only caution at Pujols 5. Ask for a locally brewed beer here and watch out! they'll bring you a Budweiser.
elsewhere:

the sounds of boom