Okay, that’s not really true.

Winters explains that his job was to “introduce a B-movie action/adventure plot while preserving Austen’s original story and most of her text.” That’s similar to what Seth Grahame-Smith, author of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies did, but where Grahame-Smith knocked it out of the park and made you feel like the Zombies really were just something edited out of Austen’s works, Winters made me feel like I was reading two different books.

The major flaw is that Winters decided that rather than fit the monsters to the scene (when the Dashwoods are kicked out, they move into the guest house of a rich relative), he moved the scene to fit the story (now they were on an island, part of an archipelago ‘controlled’ by the same man, no longer clearly understood to be a relative). As I read that first change, early Saturday morning, I stopped reading and went ‘What the hell? That’s not in the book!’ That was a phrase I never uttered while reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

This methodology continues as he moves London to a city under the ocean, Sub-Marine Station Beta, claiming that “I needed to transfer that big hunk of story to a location that could represent all that London represented for the Dashwoods and also be beset on all sides by hideous sea monsters.” I can immediately envision the Thames, beset upon by monsters who are digging tunnels (flooding the underground, perhaps?) through London. But the royals would never abandon the seat of their nation and call the populace to arms!

While Winters acknowledges that the Austen book Persuasion does take place on the water, and has a naval theme, but argues that it’s not as ripe for the level of parody he desires. Furthermore, he points out that Persuasion and Sea Monsters isn’t as catchy a title. I feel this hangs him for the flock, by shoving his plot around Austen’s. Zombies was a much more integrated plot, where you suddenly had explanations for the discord between Mr. and Mrs. Bennet past the idea that Mr. Bennet just didn’t worry about if his daughters might marry. Now we understood that he wanted them to fight the unmentionables!

If I read just Winters’ plot alone, it’s a nice Verne-esque, gothic/steampunk story and, on it’s own, is actually an interesting read. So clearly I don’t dislike his work, and when I read just his parts, I enjoyed the book more than I liked Austen’s. Also clearly, if it’s not Winters’ writing I dislike, then it must be the combination there-in. He failed to make me feel like the Sea Monsters portions were edited out. The best part about Zombies were the moments where Austen was left half-unadulterated. Where Lydia went on, prattling about marriage and how her standing was above her sisters now that she was, indeed, a married woman. Counterpoint to that ran Elizabeth thinking about beheading her sister with her katana.

In sharp contrast, the scenes where Margaret is the only one who hears the chanting on the island and her later transformation feel tacked on with the thinnest of veneers. You can skip over them and even Winters’ portion of the plot is barely disturbed. The orangutan batman is a completely wasted addition, put in only to make one raise an eyebrow, rather than to serve as any sort of period parody, such as was done with the ninjas in Zombies.

Again, in fairness to Winters, his writing, as it stands alone, was more than acceptable. Should he right his own period piece, I would greatly enjoy reading it. But with his work, I couldn’t help but feel the genre jumped the shark (pun intended).

Thus it was with great trepidation I picked up Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith, and was cheered to learn that it was still alive and well. Or perhaps, un-alive. Dawn of the Dreadfuls was a riot, a quick read, and a fun few hours. The plot moves along at a brisk pace, and serves as a perfect prequel for both the zombification portion of the book as well as Austen’s own works, giving us reasons why Elizabeth and Jane act as they do in Zombies, and what’s really the matter with their parents.

Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter has been requested from my library.

My beloved high school English teachers may tell you that once in a while comes a child who falls in love with a book. They understand the story, they understand the plot, and they simply devour every page. For me, that book was Moby Dick. I loved it. I still own a copy and re-read it from time to time. And my love for such a wandering, digressionary tale came a surprise to my teachers, especially after my virulent dislike for a similarly renown to be off-topic author.

I’ll put it baldly. As a student, I hated the Romantics, and to a degree, I still do. I can’t stand their self-involved sophomoric ineptitude. The ‘woe is me!’ attitude makes me roll my eyes, much as I do their heirs: emo brats. And yet I love Moby Dick, which is highly regarded as one of the epitomes of American Romantic literature. How can I reconcile my love/hate with a branch of literature? I’ve determined I hate Romantic love.

Looking back on the books I enjoyed and the ones I dreaded, the ones surrounding love and marriage were the ones I wanted to rip apart. Frankenstein, when re-read five years ago, was delightfully funny and sophomoric, but then again, Mary Shelly was 18 when she wrote it! My 18 year-old work suffers similarly, so I give her much more leeway now than I did when I was a snobby 19 year-old. But Dracula, with its convoluted love story, was far more frustrating then, and now. The only enjoyment I get from Bram Stoker’s work is seeing how far horror has come.

Which brings me back to a dreaded author: Jane Austen.

I made the mistake of reading Emma on my own over the summer, and was magically unaware that it was a comedy. In fact, up until a year ago, no one properly explained that Jane Austen was making a farce of her own time. My partner’s friend Meg, in order to get me to agree to watch the Colin Firth version of the miniseries, used that as her selling point. It’s supposed to be funny. So I agreed to watch it and was, much to my own surprise, entertained. The actors helped, I admit, but going in with the understanding that this was a farce was what won me over. I was never going to be an Austen Lover, but I certainly found the story much more palatable. I did not pick the books back up, however, because frankly I enjoyed Alexander Dumas much more.

Still, Passover was approaching and I knew I needed a book to push me through the two days. After seeing the novel at my friend’s house, I picked up Pride and Prejudice and Zombies from the library, wondering how a parody of a farce would play out. And again, I was pleasantly surprised.

Instead of just making the story all about zombies, or turning everything into a post-modern monologue on the death of romance, the book takes the normal plot (boy meets girl, both are idiots, people fall in and out of love, finally everyone gets a happy ending), and tosses in a mysterious plague. Suddenly the Bennet girls are Chinese trained martial arts masters, which serves to explains Elizabeth’s attitude and snobbery. Lydia, the youngest who runs off with Mr. Wickham, is written nearly the same, in fact her dialogue is hardly changed at all, which serves as a hilarious counterpoint to her sisters’ discourse of zombies.

Plot points that confused me in the original are trimmed down considerably and given the added ninja here and there. Mr. Darcy’s reason for not wanting Mr. Bingly to pursue Jane? He thought her illness to be a symptom of incipient zombificiation. Why did Elizabeth’s best friend, Charlotte, marry the idiotic and odious Mr. Collins? She was a zombie! Genius!

Certain points hang in confusion, of course. Mr. Darcy savagely beats Mr. Wickham, crippling him for life, and to no deep purpose save his own pride. Mr. Bennet’s various affairs while in China (helping his daughters train) is a dangling plot-thread, and there’s never an explanation as to how this 55 year old plague actually began (n.b. I suppose the answer to that lies in the prequel Pride and Prejudice and Zombies : Dawn of the Dreadfuls).

Do I recommend these books to the discerning Austen fan and devotee of Romantic Literature? No. Not in the least. But if you have a sense of humor and want to picture Colin Firth running about with a katana, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh having an all out Xena-esque battle with Elizabeth, well then, pick up the book. Or wait for the movie, with Natalie Portman as Elizabeth.

Oh yes. I’ll be watching that one.

This search wasn’t what I planned
Not my intention
I got so lost, mouse in hand
Without map directions
It’s not like it’s on Yahoo!
Just wanna try this out
I’m curious for google
It caught my attention

I logged on to Google and I liked it!
The sight of that simple white screen
I searched on Google just to try it
Hope Bing and Yahoo don’t mind it
It went so fast
It went so bright
Don’t mean I’m logging in tonight
I used Google and I liked it
I liked it.

I didn’t even know the name
Of what I was after
I pressed ‘I feel lucky’ and
The search ran faster
It’s not what
Bing can do
Not how Microsoft behaves
Search engines get confused
Hard to click and play

I logged on to Google and I liked it!
The sight of that simple white screen
I searched on Google just to try it
Hope Bing and Yahoo don’t mind it
It went so fast
It went so bright
Don’t mean I’m logging in tonight
I used Google and I liked it
I liked it.

Google Earth’s so magical
With maps, with moons, with DNS
Hard to resist, so clickable
Too good to deny it
Ain’t no big deal, google it

I logged on to Google and I liked it!
The sight of that simple white screen
I searched on Google just to try it
Hope Bing and Yahoo don’t mind it
It went so fast
It went so bright
Don’t mean I’m logging in tonight
I used Google and I liked it
I liked it.

I love you. I love your snow, your wind, your bitterness.

I was out in weather that was -23 with the wind and I looked for an apartment.

I found a new place and now I must pack.

And while I shall be living on the edge of your land, I remain forever yours.

Oh, Chicago, Chicago, Chicago.

I say yes to my yes my midwestern flatland.

To be a classic, a book must inspire, entertain and connect with it’s audience. Age is not a pre-requisite, though certainly the ability of a book to last a hundred years signifies it’s ability for longevity. But as time passes, it’s difficult to maintain a connection with novels, as events which were current at the time fade from memory. A hundred years pass and we remember events of greatness, but the little minutia that can bring a novel to life can also choke it with irrelevancy. It’s beneficial, towards this end, that the staging of The Count of Monte Cristo is nearly inconsequential.

As the novel begins, First-Mate Edmond Dantes is in the prime of his youth, exhibiting great potential and inspiring love in his men. As the Captain of the Pharaon lies dying, he asks Dantes to deliver a letter to the isle of Elba, and if asked, to deliver a letter from Elba to Paris. Regardless of the fact that Napoleon is in exile on Elba, Dantes treats the request as an order. Jealous, the ship’s purser sets up Dantes to be seen as a traitor to the monarchy, and is able to collude with others who share his feelings to frame Dantes for the crime of Bonapatism that his Captain committed.

As a man who is loved by his crew and employer, as well as one who is painted with only the flaw of naiveté, it comes as a surprise to have Dantes railroaded into jail, imprisoned for life. But instead of carrying the reader on a plot device, Dumas crafts an intricate web of happenstance and coincidence that feels natural and believable. At first Dantes is shown hope, when anonymously accused of his crime, as the public prosecutor is out of town and his deputy, Villefort, sounds willing to accept Dantes story. However the letter from Elba bears the name of Villefort’s father, a Bonapartist whom Villefort has been trying to distance himself from all his life. With his reason clouded by fear that Napolean will return and his work will be for nothing, Villefort sacrifices Dantes for his own ambition, sentencing him to life in prison.

This, and the later mention in passing of Napoleon’s failed attempt to regain power, are the only historical facts that are necessary to the telling of the story. Even the saga of Napoleon is touched on enough to permit someone with no historical background in the era to follow the book and not feel adrift. By keeping his story mostly self-contained, the reader can enjoy the world presented.

To entertain the audience across generations requires a story to have adventure, action and romance. Topics that can stir the passions in a person and make the story live. Action is difficult to translate to the page. In a play, the author has the advantage of stage directions and visual interpretation. Today’s media is inundated with movie action sequences with CGI effects speeding up and slowing down martial arts moves in a whirlwind cacophony of chaos. Wisely, Dumas avoids the majority of action sequences, alluding to them, showing us a little, but abstaining from multiple chapters of gratuitous violence. His action lies not in the clashing of swords and wielding of pistols, but the machinations of men and the evil we do to each other with words.

The love for the intelligent, beautiful and caring Mercedes supports Dantes through much of his actions, and is the cause for many of his choices. Arrested at his own rehearsal dinner, Dantes originally strikes a chord in Villefort’s heart, as both men plan to be married soon. After years of imprisonment, Dantes grows past his love for Mercedes until she stands like a holy relic in his heart. He still loves her, but it becomes apparent that Dantes is no longer the man he was, and while the nineteen year-old First Mate was consumed by passion, the nearly forty year-old Count has a different perspective, and his deep passion is now that of revenge.

It is when Dantes is in prison that he is given redemption from his crimes of innocence. But also his time served sows the seeds of revenge in his heart, beginning the crafting of The Count of Monte Cristo into a classic. It’s a plot wagon, the old priest accidentally tunneling into Dantes’ cell and then teaching him all he knows of languages, literature and science. Unknowingly, the priest arms Dantes in his vengeance as well as leads him to the true knowledge of his fate, all through teaching Dantes to use his mind. The two are able to discern that Dantes was set up and betrayed.

Even with that knowledge, Dantes even finds himself unable to exact the revenge he’d intended on his rival, Fernand, when he can’t destroy Mercedes. Also, the young man, Morrel, son of the owner of the Pharaon, desires to marry Villeforte’s daughter, and in the interests of helping the young man whom he sees as a son, Dantes changes his plan to spare her life.

Not everyone lives ‘happily ever after,’ however. The son of Fernand gives up all his money and his fiancée to join the army while his mother, Mercedes, settles with the pittance Dantes’ had intended to use for their marriage, and secludes herself in a poor man’s house. While many characters are given the road to their own happiness, the gifts given to Dantes’ enemies and friends are similar. Riches are given to men who helped and hurt Dantes, but only the decent men find success and happiness.

Now a hardened cynic, Dantes manages to find pity and grow humane once more when his acts of revenge spiral out of control, taking with them the sanity of Villeforte and the life of Villeforte’s wife and their young son. It is with these tragic losses that Dantes questions his own actions and begins to see life past himself. Even in his adult, mature life outside the prison, Dantes remained fettered by his blinders of self-righteousness. His steadfast belief in honor and the good in men imprisons him, and once free he clings to the thought that few men can be innocent.

As for Dantes himself, love sneaks up and all but tackles Dantes unawares near the end of the novel. All but the densest reader can see the slave Haydée loves Dantes, faults and all, and leaves with him in the end. It’s a redemption Dantes had not expected, living his life only to revenge his own death, for the young idealist he was will never return. In its place is the mature, wiser man, who’s finally able to live life and accept that tomorrow will bring what it may bring. At long last, Dantes has grown up.

The Adventure of Rudy, Tony, Sal and Jem

Rudy: Hmm. We seem to have lost the legged ones in that great wash. Well, we’ll keep together, then.

Sal: Sounds like a good plan. Should we go look for them? They don’t swim so well.

Tony: I’m not getting near that water by where we live. It smells like oil.

Rudy: Tony’s right. How about we stick as a group and look for them out here. They probably got washed out.

Jem: I’m hungry.

Rudy: … Or we could eat. Is anyone else hungry?

Tony: It was a rough trip, getting washed out here.

Sal: I’m a bit peckish.

Rudy: Okay, okay. Tony, go get the fish.

Tony: What? How?

Rudy: We’ve seen the legged ones do it! It can’t be that hard.

Tony: I… what? I can’t get fish! I don’t have thumbs!

Rudy: Well, use your initiative!

Tony: Fuck that idea, you can get the fish.

Sal: Oh! Oh! I have an idea!

Rudy: What? Go find some other legged ones with the buckets?

Sal: No, look! There are fish down here, under the water. We can catch them!

Jem: And eat them live!? I’d rather die!

Tony: Hey, Sal’s right. And I don’t think we have much of a choice. It could be days.

Rudy: It could be forever.

Sal: Here, look, I’ll get one …

Tony: Oh my god, she’s actually eating a live fish.

Rudy: How was it?

Sal: Um, different. Warmer, but not a lot. I like the bucket fish better.

Jem: Nope. Not eating.

Two Weeks Later

Tony: … telling you, that the little red ones are yummy. Jem, you’ve gotta eat.

Jem: [weakly] Nope, nothing doing.

Sal: Rudy, do something! Make her eat!

Rudy: I would if I could, but- Hey, what’s that?

Trainer: [on a boat] Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!

Sal: Is that…

Tony: It might be a shark! They’re smart!

Rudy: No! It’s Legged Ones! Hi! Hi! Hi! [backflips]

Sal: Legged Ones! [backflip]

Tony: Yippie! [backflip]

Jem: [tired] See? I bet they have fish.

Trainer: [talks in human speak for a while] Come! Come! Come! [throws out fish]

Sal: Ooooh, don’t do that, the sharks!

Rudy: Jem, eat up! We’ve found them.

Tony: Won’t the sharks eat them?

Sal: Don’t be silly, they have a … a floating thing.

Rudy: [swims up and talks to the trainer]

Tony: So, they’ll float us back home?

Jem: Oh, god, fish! Fish! Fish that isn’t shitting!

Rudy: Okay, I’ve talked to the Legged One. He seems to understand we’re hurt, tired, and hungry. He said something about Jem being annorexic. Anyway, he’s going to get the transporter and we’re going home!

Player: No I’m not! I’m minding someone else’s!

GM: You know, that’s getting really old.

Player: Oh, fine, I’m minding my own business. What street?

GM: Harrison, the bridge, it’s about 4:30 or 5 O’Clock. Rush hour traffic, week after Christmas.

Player: Ugh, well it’s warmer so I’ve got on a sweater and my peacoat, open, wool scarf and watchcap.

GM: Hair?

Player: Ponytail wound up and tucked in the hat. Merrel slip-on shoes, thank you. The standard attire.

GM: You love those shoes.

Player: Can you blame me?

GM: *heh* No. Alright. December, blah blah, you’re walking home. What do you do?

Player: This is so a trick question. Ah, I turn down to cut past D’Angelo Park.

GM: The rape park?

Player: It’s probably closer to 4:45 than 5, which means there’s some light, and the new street lamps are up, so it’s safer. Besides, that was three years ago, and I have my pepper spray cause of the Wrigleyville Rape asshole.

GM: Wait, if you’re cutting past the park, aren’t you taking the Brown/Purple line?

Player: Yeah.

GM: And neither of those stop at Addison-

Player: Dude! You don’t think he might move around the area?

GM: Oh, okay, point. So you’ve cut past the park.

Player: Through the parking lot and past the Crocodile Lounge.

GM: I remember when rock was young!

Player: Me and Suzie had so much fun!

GM: *hee!* That’s a weird lounge.

Player: No shit. And I go on, past the corner store that played MmmmBop! every day for a month a couple summers ago-

GM: If you even dare get that song in my head-

Player: – and it was all MmmmBop!, bop-be-de, uuuu-whop!

GM: Aaaaaugh! You die! The end!

Player: *snigger* Okay, okay! And across the street, under the El, past the radio shack, the cheap sushi and-

GM: Roll perception.

Player: Ah, fuck. *rolls* Um, okay, 4 success levels.

GM: Hmm, okay, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, the aggressive begging lady, who is today outside Dunkin’ Donuts instead of the Stock Exchange.

Player: Ugh. How crowded is the street?

GM: Not a lot, it’s post Christmas, and everyone’s downtown for the sale, rather than in the Financial District.

Player: Fuckity.

GM: Still walking?

Player: Oh yeah, but doing that ‘She’s crazy, I don’t see her, I don’t hear her.’

GM: Black watchcap and blue scarf?

Player: Grey, thank you. The blue one is fleece.

GM: Well, she sees your bag and says “Button girl!”

Player: I ignore her. Damn, I only have two! The TAR button, and my Batman one. Batman. I love him.

GM: Today he mocks you. She calls out, “Batgirl!”

Player: Dude, ignoring.

GM: She’s gonna get pissed soon.

Player: Not when I have my +4 iPod shield of annoyance protection!

GM: … You didn’t declare it.

Player: It’s standard! I didn’t declare my bag, or which one it was, but you knew.

GM: I thought it broke or something.

Player: The new one came back the 20th, and I’ve been using it since the 21st. Loooooser!

GM: Yeah, yeah, she kills you, you die.

Player: The end.

GM: Actually, she mutters, “Damn dot-Communist kid!” at your back.

Player: La, la, la! Ignoring.

GM: You can’t hear her if the iPod is on.

Player: See? I win.

Both: The end!

Shit

God help me, I’m agreeing with FOX.

This has been a banner TV year for me. First, I’m in love with a show on UPN (namely Veronica Mars, and if you’re not watching it, you’re the asshole). Secondly, here I am in December, standing up (metaphorically) and going ‘Hell yeah! You go, FOX!’

Oh it hurts so bad.

Tits

To explain this, I’m going to backtrack to this past Super Bowl, when Justin Timberlake ‘accidentally’ popped Janet Jackson’s shirt off and flashed her boob to the world for a second. I was actually watching that and saw it. I blinked, asked Ipstenit “Was that a nipple ring?” She replied, “I think it was a nipple guard.” We made a couple chastity belt comments, and moved on. I had assumed that the ‘surprise’ for this show, about which much ado had been made, was either Timberlake’s appearance itself, or that Michael Jackson was going to come onstage. Now that the boob was flashed, I assumed it was flashy tits (tm The Full Monty).

Personally, I think that the tit waggle was entirely intentional. First, I know of no one who would wear the nipple shield every day and I know a lot of kinks. It’s uncomfortable and metal, so I assume it’s not pleasing to wear. Secondly, if your wardrobe can accidentally unhinge one boob, then you need to publicly decry the designer. That is not a Mackey Rag (tm Carol Burnette and Mr. Bob Mackey, whom I’ve actually met). Finally, was anyone else surprised by how fucking short Janet Jackson is? Justin’s at least a foot taller, and since Michael and Janet Jackson are around the same height, I’ve determined he’s dinky.

Tits and Jacksons aside, everyone was hyper-aware of the FCC after the Stupid Bowl. CBS was smacked with a fine of $27,500 on each of 20 CBS-owned affiliates that showed broadcast of half-time show. That’s about $550,000. I make more than $27,500 a year, though I’d rather not have to fork it up all at once, and I consider that fine to be pretty low. That’s also the Maximum fine the FCC can fork up. Quoth FCC Chairman Michael Powell, “No television event has ever received as many complaints from the American public — over 540,000 — as the Super Bowl XXXVIII half-time show produced by CBS. Indecency determinations, however, must be made cautiously and with appropriate restraint.”

Fuck

A few days later, Clear Channel (a radio conglomerate) was ganked for $755,000 for playing a sexually explicit radio show, “Bubba the Love Sponge”, 26 times. Apparently there are a lot of episodes. They’re also being fined an additional $40,000 for record keeping violations. Looking further back, in 2002 there was a radio station whose jockeys, Gregg Hughes and Anthony Cumia (a.k.a “Opie and Anthony”) had a bit where they aired a segment featuring descriptions of a couple having sex in New York’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The couple was excommunicated, if I recall correctly, and the radio station was tagged with a $357,500 fine.

The largest cumulative fine for indecency was $1.7 million paid by Infinity Broadcasting in 1995 for various violations by radio host Howard Stern.

Tom Lehrer, and I quoted from his smog ‘Smut’ up above, once said “I do have a cause though. It is obscenity. I’m for it. Unfortunately the civil liberties types who are fighting this issue have to fight it owing to the nature of the laws as a matter of freedom of speech and stifling of free expression and so on but we no what’s really involved: dirty books are fun. That’s all there is to it. But you can’t get up in a court and say that I suppose. It’s simply a matter of freedom of pleasure, a right which is not guaranteed by the Constitution unfortunately.” (This is on his album That Was the Year That Was, which every social deviant should own). And he’s so right. If they weren’t fun, the novelty of buying a Playboy just because your mom doesn’t want you to, would wear off by the time you were 18.

Motherfucker

The most famous foul mouthed tart of them all is, of course, George Carlin, which I find amusing. Go listen to Chris Rock or Richard Pryor and tell me that their shit is neither funny as fuck or dirty as shit. Yeah, Google’s going to have a field day with this on. On an amusing note, George Carlin’s website is blocked from my office firewall. That said, there’s enough I can scope on a Google for ‘George Carlin FCC case’ that will fill in the details.

The thing about George Carlin, whom I adore and revere even though I hate the fact that he doesn’t vote, is that his 12 minute monologue officially called the “Seven dirty words you can’t say on television” but also referred to as the “Filthy Words” monologue, is the basis for all the crap the FCC is pulling now. There. I said it. If you somehow missed hearing about all this, and we first discussed it in my American History class, junior year of high school, in 1978 a radio station owned by Pacifica Foundation Broadcasting out of New York City was doing a program on contemporary attitudes toward the use of language. This broadcast occurred on a mid-afternoon weekday. Immediately before the broadcast the station announced a disclaimer telling listeners that the program would include “sensitive language which might be regarded as offensive to some.”

I flat out refuse to blame Carlin for this mess, mind. He didn’t hold a gun to the head of the radio station and make them play it. He didn’t make that idiot father who, while driving in the car with his kid, not change the station. In point of fact, there was a disclaimer! The dad, however, called the FCC and bitched about it. The FCC, bless them, did their job and fined Pacifica. The fine was challenged and, after a lot of trial and tribulation, went to the Supreme Court, where the FCC was granted the power to regulate radio broadcasts that are indecent but not obscene. Translation, the FCC can only regulate broadcasts. They can not censor broadcasts, that is determine what is offensive in the matters of speech.

Cunt

Twenty-five years later, Janet flashes tit and everyone freaks.

I’m resentful of the fact that our government gets to regulate what is and isn’t naughty. While the only one of Carlin’s dirty words that I dislike is cunt (which is why it’s the heading down here), I can accept the fact that my in-laws won’t say ‘darn’ because it’s too close to ‘damn’ and my own grandmother says ‘fuck you’ a lot. Love you, Taf!

This partly has to do with the fact that I’ve realized I only agree with 49% of my nation’s voters (the other 51% of you, including you Mom, sorry, are dolts for voting for Bush). But it’s also the same reason I hate the Click-It-Or-Ticket laws in Illinois. “Secure the blessings of liberty” my ass. The over-regulation of the government makes people less and less accountable for their actions, thus giving them the perceived freedom of choice without the responsibility of decision.

That and I don’t want the government telling me what’s wrong in that sense. If I’m hurting someone to the point that their life is affected, then yes, by all means, punish me. Murder, theft, rape, abuse. But saying ‘fuck’ isn’t abuse. I’ll concede that swearing at someone can be abusive, and I’m all for nailing people to the wall for that sort of thing. But. Gay sex ain’t a crime. Saying ‘Damn hell ass kings! isn’t a crime. And changing the mother fucking station when you decide that something offends you, isn’t a crime.

Piss

So how does FOX play in with all this? The FCC dinged FOX for $1.18 million for some racy bachelor party on their show “Married by America.” By the way, no one actually got married, which is par for the course on this sort of show. FOX claims that the government’s indecency rules for broadcast television are unconstitutional because they don’t apply to cable and satellite television. Which I support. You can’t say that ‘cocksucker’ is okay for the goose, but the gander can only say ‘asshole.’ Not to mention that FOX says the show’s not indecent. It’s lame, I grant you, but they’re right. The show wasn’t indecent, it was stupid. On top of that, they had disclaimers, they had warnings, and they rated it so that if you had a V-chip, you wouldn’t see it.

What happened on the show, if you’re like me and the rest of America and didn’t bother watching the schlock, is that the bachelor party included topless female dancers, a female contestant licking whipped cream from the chest of a male stripper and several other examples of debauchery. Okay, we’re moving into raunchy, and I realize that I’m not the best person to judge (I’m blas� about nudity). Still. that’s the sort of thing I see and go ‘Huh. Well, what else is on?’ and change the channel. The FCC got 159 complaints and decided that the show was ‘patently offensive’ and fined FOX for showing it on primetime, when kids might watch. Even though nudity was heavily pixilated, the sexual nature of the scenes (which ranked 105 seconds long, total) was ‘inescapable.’ Unless you changed the channel.

Here’s the kicker, and hold on to your hats. Out of the 159 complaints, 155 were identical. That’s right, 155 complaints that were exactly the same, and 4 that weren’t. Given that outside of the Janet Jackson matter, the Parents Television Council filed 99.9% of indecency complaints from January to early October, according to Mediaweek, I’m betting that the conservative PTC freaks are the ones who called in about “Married by America.”

These are the same idiots who make CSI put up a warning label for the episode where there’s spouse swapping (a swinger’s party) and transgender folks being murdered, but almost never for the ‘common’ occurrences of rape, pillage, etc. They also hate CSI in general, but come on. It’s a show called crime scene investigation. Were you expecting fluffy bunnies?

Cocksucker

People argue that the laws are there to protect children from offensive media influences. Gee. Here I thought that was what parents were for. If we need the law to make it so that a child only watches Barney or what have you, then the problem isn’t the TV station. It’s the parent. Yes, I say this from the lofty arrogance of ‘I have no children’ but seriously.

No one wants to take personal accountability for their own actions, and the PTC isn’t helping. Until each and every one of us stands up, takes action for what we want to watch, and vote with our clickers, the TV shows are going to remain ‘lewd.’ If you stop watching the shows, the stop making money and they go off the air, it’s that simple.

So I root for FOX, even though I don’t watch a single show on their station. Except Quints and that 70s Show.

In Chicago they say “Vote early and often.” This Fall, they’re taking it literally. Simple Chicago working class natives, John Burke (Jason Lee) and his best friend Tom Zane (Diedrich Bader) both work hard on in-city construction. Come November, they’re faced with the worst day of their lives: The dead have come back and there’s only one thing on their mind. Voting! Irate with the way their deaths have been capitalized upon by corrupt politicians, Chicago is filled with zombies who want to cast their ballot for the candidate they believe in. Now John and Tom must make the toughest decision in their lives. Do they save the politicians or help the zombies?

Misrepresented

After a new referendum is passed where the president and vice president are elected separately, a surprise gaff in the polling system elects die hard Republican William Richards (Craig T. Nelson) as president. His vice president is non-other than Independent candidate Marty Feinstein (George Carlin), court-martialed five times in the army, and self-admitted drug user. How can these opposition party members work together and save the USA from economic disaster. Will President Richards approve VP Feinstein’s proposal to make pot smoking a misdemeanor? Will Feinstein’s sit in on the White House lawn, opposing the war give the President a heart attack? What can make these men come together?

Uncounted

A freak twister knocks out the polling places in Ubank, Kansas, killing the polling Judges. In a fit of inter-party teamwork, Republicans, Democrats and Libertarians must team together to collect enough vehicles to transport everyone to the next town standing. Along the battle trail, the mismatched throng finds despair, pain and even love before they reach Topeka, collecting more survivors along the way. Lead by the Socialist mailman (Brad Garrett), the small town of 80 face insurmountable odds as they battle the inclement weather and each other while trying to prove to America that we’re all the same, no matter who we vote for.

President Gussy

Many times, when their husbands have died before election, stalwart wives have stepped up to the plate to fill in. When Democratic nominee and popular, quadriplegic, candidate Phillip Smith (Christopher Reeve in his last film appearance) is killed by a train derailment, his widow Gertrude “Gussy” Smith (Judy Dench) declares herself the candidate. With the sympathy of the nation behind her, Gussy holds firm to her Liberal beliefs and wins the hearts of scientists everywhere with her support of stem cell research and free WiFi for all schools. It’s a landslide victory for President Gussy, but her trials are only just beginning when the Senate pushes for more involvement in the burgeoning war in Asia.

MoC. I am aware you have been disgruntled with the brevity of my reports, to the point that you have dispatched young agent Ruth to my station. Simply put, there has been nothing to report!

First and foremost, living with the two Ipstenu women has been comfortable and easy. However save the one field trip to offer last regards to agent Laupus (human designation Blackjack), we live a life of quiet seclusion. They have named me ‘Vashti’ and I am told it means ‘queen.’ Fitting, no?

Initially, I was lavished and adored, to the point that I had no desires unmet. Then they took me to the torturer. The ‘vet.’ Shortly thereafter, one of the other ‘moms’ went to the vet for surgery of her own. Well, all’s fair. I had shoes to sniff, people to play with, and they brought me men from time to time. They were already prepared to tend to our kind, so I felt no need to press the issue.

They’ve been trimming my nails for me and, while uncomfortable, it has gone well enough. The grooming has been pleasing, though I’ve been placed on a diet. I still enjoy the tuna juice, so I really can’t complain.

However, the last two weeks have been filled with stress. First the humans attempted to ‘nest’ by painting furniture. I was trapped in the bedroom with no access to the computers by which I could send you updates! By the time I was let free, I hardly had time to adjust before there was another surgery for the mom and then … her.

I realize that the human JMG is well respected in feline circles, and I too enjoy his care. Why he was permitted to bring me Ruth I do not understand. She is small, hardly a fourth my size, and has claimed the right handed mom as her own. This is alright. Everyone loves her, all felines and canines and baby humans trust her. Or so I’ve been told. She applies anti-hairball medicine to me, so I doubt the veracity of this claim.

Ruth has been named ‘Shego’ after that dratted cartoon ‘Kim Possible.’ I’ve noted that the collar is purple, instead of Shego’s trademark green. I find that amusing. She is small, she is active, and we are battling it out for the bed.

I am of divided opinion to her presence. She is entertaining to watch, but she is also young and reckless. She doesn’t understand human speak, and she’s impatient and brash. She’s also fiesty. I miss my quiet. That said, she is quite right in that it is nap time. More reports later.

- Na’Toth