A SAVAGE JOURNEY INTO THE FLACCID HEART OF STATE LEVEL POLITICS
One evening, I called the White House switchboard — the keypad sign-of-the-cross of (202) 456-2580 — while drinking and watching the news.
WH: Hello. This is White House.
Tyler Bass: Hello, may I please speak to the President?
WH: . . . [hangup]
Jesus, I thought. Why even post the number?
RICHMOND, VA. - Behind U.S. Democratic Senate candidate Jim Webb meandered a mentally challenged woman, middle aged and extremely happy to see him. Happy just to be there.
Mr. Webb talked to some of his more able-minded and eager supporters with his back turned to the woman and myself, a member of the press. “There’s more where this came from,” said a glassy eyed supporter as he waved a check around over his head.
Another follower sporting a Webb T-shirt incessantly tapped the candidate, alerting him to the bizarre woman Webb actively avoided. She had begun calling out for him, by name, over the rabble. She became, by this point in the story, too difficult to ignore.
On August 28, during the opening fanfare at Webb headquarters located at Radford Ave., a Wall Street Journal poll showed Webb in the lead, despite now obvious associations with the mentally handicapped, enjoying a 1.3 percent advantage continuing upward momentum after the primaries.
“Jim! Jim!” the woman moaned as her chin quivered in anticipation. She wanted more than his attention. The candidate initially avoided contact with her because of her custom t-shirt: a picture of Sen. George Allen with the screen-printed words “The Real Macaca” below his grinning face. She gestured to her shirt and persistently motioned to attract her hero. Eventually, Webb politely greeted her, and said he could make no comment on her shirt because “the press was nearby.”
The woman’s shirt referenced a controversial and widely analyzed incident which took place in Breaks, Va. on August 11. The Webb team posted video footage captured by a campaign volunteer, Shekar Sidharth. The resulting imbroglio caused Sen. Allen’s poll numbers to plummet dramatically. In front of a small crowd of supporters, he said right into Sidharth’s camera:
“This fellow here, over here with the yellow shirt, macaca, or whatever his name is, he’s with my opponent. He’s following us around everywhere. And it’s just great. We’re going to places all over Virginia, and he’s having it on film, and it’s great to have you here. And you show it to your opponent [read: Webb], because he’s never been there, and will probably never come, so it’s good for you to see what it’s like out here in the real world.” Allen mocked Webb for traveling to the West Coast instead to raise money from a “bunch of Hollywood movie moguls,” right before finishing. “So welcome. Let’s give a welcome to macaca, here. Welcome to America and the real world of Virginia.” From there, our Junior Senator segued into remarks about the U.S. War on Extreme Fear.
Because Sidharth is of Indian descent (and a lifelong Virginian), the speech fueled accusations that Allen was appealing to base Appalachian provincialism. After a slew of apologies, Allen claimed he made up the term “macaca”, and – while the word by some academic accounts is one French colonialists use to refer to ethnic Tunisian natives – Allen’s francophone and Tunisian-American mother said she had to look the term up in her dictionary, where she claimed not to find it. Webb maintained that Allen knew what the word meant and that its use offended him, because Webb has never heard bad words before.
Jim Webb himself holds the distinction of having produced and written the trite story behind “Rules of Engagement,” a 2000 film the American Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee called at the time “the most vicious anti-Arab racist film ever made by a major Hollywood studio.” Hollywood studios would not again meet its own precedent of cultural insensitivity until the 2008 release of Hurt Locker. Apparently forgetful, or — more likely — completely ignorant of the 1890 Wounded Knee Massacre of hundreds of Native Americans (to name just one time and place), Webb said in a Sept. 17 “Meet The Press” debate, “African-Americans are the only ethnic group in this country that have suffered from deliberate discrimination, and– and exclusion by the government over generations.” He says that affirmative action programs originally had good intentions, but – when they support everyone except white people (especially poor white people, as Webb says) – they constitute “state-sponsored racism” equated with white Jim Crow laws.
Allen, on the other hand, opposes affirmative action unequivocally. In his youth, he had a penchant for the Confederacy, and as a delegate opposed a holiday honoring Martin Luther King, a view shared by the same U.S. government whose leaders wanted him assassinated.
Standing in the gravel parking lot of Barnes’ Manufacturing of Kenbridge, Va., I made meager acquaintance with Carol Watson, mayor of nearby Victoria. Soon, Allen’s extravagant campaign bus pulled up and his press secretary, Bill Bozin, with bleached, gelled hair and shiny black shoes, stepped out followed by none other than Allen himself. Senator Allen was a tall man with dark hair and a red face, presumably from drinking. He slouches slightly, presumably also from drinking. An impatient crowd gathered around the Barnes main office — the office was brown with vinyl siding about the size of a double wide trailer — when Allen appeared wearing cowboy boots, just like his hero, George Bush.
I stepped into Barnes’ office, who bored me with asinine accounts of business as usual in his lumber plant.
Allen asked if Barnes exported anything.
“Nope,” replied Barnes.
The senator wore a look of disappointment.
Allen asked him what he was dipping, as the two men pulled out identical tins of Copenhagen. He commented on how that stuff was grown locally. I looked down into my front shirt pocket to see if my package of Marlboro Lights sported a local manufacturer, but the Senator snatched them away. “Good product,” he said. “That’s made in Richmond.” With an assertive nod of the head, he then handed them back to me.
As I reflect on those blue moons, when I would, at times, pick half-smoked cigarette butts out of ashtrays to stave off panic attacks, dark realizations flooded my consciousness. UST, Inc., I recalled, the company that manufactures Copenhagen, is one of Allen’s largest campaign contributors.
During what’s known as the Homestead debate, Senator Allen once said, “The people [of Iraq], regardless if they’re Shiite, Sunni or Kurd, are grateful for America liberating their country.” But the answer Allen gave at that time alleged religious differences were dangerously fracturing Iraq’s national unity. “There will be some Sunnis who will not be grateful because everyone will get to have their say,” said Allen. Even if it’s the most ignorant shit you’ll ever have the chance to say, you’ll get to say it, unfortunately for Senator Allen Macaca.
When it came to Iraq, Webb could only refer me to a substantial amount of paperwork he said existed about the issue. As Allen insinuated that Sunni Muslims were suppressing fellow citizens, Webb said for a long time that it wasn’t our military’s business to fix the situation with occupation.
“We didn’t go into Iraq because of terrorism,” said Webb on “Meet The Press.” “We have terrorists in Iraq because we went in there.” During that program, the two candidates differ because Allen seemed to want long-term U.S. military bases in Iraq, while Webb sees those as irrelevant if Iraq does prove safe. If Webb meant what he said as true, one thing was certain: His son was serving in Iraq at the time.
The answers I got out of Jim Webb and George Allen regarding net neutrality outlined the quintessential differences between the two major parties. Allen said he wanted a “permanent prohibition” on “tax commissars” he believed makes online access a hassle through government Internet-regulation fees. “I don’t want people’s Internet bills to look like their phone bills,” he said, hinting at charges you might pay for going over your monthly phone minutes. But “if you legislate too much,” he added, “you will slow the growth.”
Jim Webb told me that he doesn’t want surfers to have to “pay all of those extra fees” that Internet service providers might attempt to charge others for special services. In short, George Allen thinks that government interference will mess up the speed of Internet growth, while Webb thinks it’s worth the time the Federal Communication Commission is putting into it now. The confessions of the latter align more closely with advocacy groups such as Save The Internet, which supports the FCC’s traditional definitions of net neutrality, but he did not volunteer the sources of the debate because he probably did not use any.
To name just one example, however, STI claims that sometime back in April, America Online was briefly blocking all customer emails that mentioned dearaol.com, a campaign opposing the company’s attempts to charge for the most reliable email services.
After the short Allen meet-and-greet, I hit the nearby streets. Stephanie Landry, employee of Kenbridge’s Moe’s Italian Restaurant said that the issues most important to her were abortion (against), gay marriage (against), illegal immigration, and guns.
“Where would you draw the line on guns, though?” I asked. “That is, between your run-of-the-mill shotgun and the nuclear bomb?”
“The nuclear bomb, I would draw that there,” said Landry with a smile, clearly avoiding my question.
Landry’s family inspires her views on immigration policy. “My Dad and I were talking the other day; a lot of the [working] Mexicans are sending that money out of Lunenberg County.” White people are more deserving of an income than nonwhites, I took her to mean at the time.
Down the block from Moe’s, I caught up with Lunenburg County resident Roberta Ricker inside a local library. She claimed that half of the workers in the county’s manufacturing plants were illegal immigrants. “Without Hispanics,” she said, “the manufacturers wouldn’t know what to do.” She was also worried about the progress of the No Child Left Behind Act. “Why be supportive [of the act] and then cut the money in the budget?” she wondered aloud. The Iraq War, she opined, is “unjustified” and “a drain on the economy.” As an educator to juvenile inmates, she also worried that the corrections system “isn’t working right.”
Later that day, I made my way back across the RVA expressway and to that rally. When I found a moment, I walked up to Jim Webb and asked him, “What is a terrorist?”
A long stare, and his pupils went small. His chest stuck out and he looked pissed. That long and intense stare felt somewhere between, “C’mon, you little treasonous punk – don’t insult this rally’s patriotism!” and “Dear God! Moral Decay has progressed so much that no one can tell the difference between good and evil.”
After a blank pause, he growled, “Why?”
“Well, we call a lot of people terrorists,” I said. “Some people call the United States terrorists. I was just wondering if you could give a transcendent definition.”
He replied that a terrorist is a “quasi-military person . . . who represents a cause and is not associated with a nation state.” It is my belief that his answer reveals a telling, if tacit, policy difference between his opponent and him. During the Homestead debate, Allen alone characterized Hezbollah as a terrorist organization. But because Hezbollah’s political leaders are elected, it does not strictly fit with Webb’s definition. To me, anyway, Hezbollah seems a lot like the Irish Republican Army used to be.
On illegal immigration, Webb told me, “Build a wall. Keep them out.”
The Democrats continued to rally that day, buying votes with free hot dogs, lemonade and goods brought out by volunteers. The crowd hissed when they heard Allen voted against the use of stem cells for scientific research.
One man became so spirited during the speech that he yelled out one or more of the Bush Administration’s actions was “bullshit”. Moments later, I caught up with him: Gary Agisin, an RVA native. I asked him about illegal immigration, and he told me, “We need more immigrants – it brings in more jobs.” Sure enough, he made a strange bedfellow with Webb.
In the crowd, I ran into State Senator Creigh Deeds, a man who just made an unsuccessful bid for State Attorney General, and started rambling hopelessly about legalizing marijuana. Then, my driver who accompanied me to the Allen event began to joke with Deeds about Allen’s Press Secretary’s high-maintenance fashion stylings. Deeds couldn’t resist teasing Allen: “He surrounds himself with gay men!”
The Human Rights Committee and Alliance For Marriage kindly urge your participation in the upcoming referendum on a state constitutional amendment banning homosexual marriages and unions.
Houston–SlaveTech Enterprises office monkey Harold Strafford the Third opened fire on his colleagues Wednesday after contracting a rare, unseasonable case of the Mondays.
Police responded with deadly force. “This is like no case of the Mondays I’ve ever seen,” said Officer Mike Fish. “Today is Wednesday.”
Mario Kline, 32, described the gripping moment Strafford decided to murder his colleagues. Strafford stepped Kline’s wounded body just before succumbing to a hail of gunfire by responding officers.
“He strafed down aisle after aisle of cubicles, pumping a frenzy of lead into anything that moved – and all the computers. Especially the computers. It was horrible. I had all my porn on there, and some people are dead.”
Shotgun blast after shotgun blast, Strafford killed four people and injured seventeen others. Among his victims were two office clerks, a member of upper-middle management, and the secretary who greeted him at the door. Each victim was shot in the mouth.
Strafford’s attorney, Leo Steinbrenner, told reporters his client was “under a lot of stress” Wednesday, and had no patience for people constantly asking him what was wrong. “He was just having a case of the Mondays,” Steinbrenner explained, adding, “Sure, my client acted out of line; sure, you can call it a murderous rampage. But in a bad job market, my client is a maverick. [emphasis added] You can’t say he isn’t thinking outside the box! Try to look at it this way: my client is a job creator.”
A note found on the gunman’s untouched desk exhibits total loss of control as Strafford ultimately succumbed to the will of his unsuppressed rage, and urge to create jobs:
USELESS ENVisioning a pick-axe in your fucking face of raw bone pure fury hatred “Bella Mew. Monday. Wednesday morning murderhate.” Little faggot daughter suck a dick find a man, try to escape this loveless land, I dare you little whore– Try to escape My murderous hand.
“Old Brutus,” SlavTech custodian, said Strafford confronted him in the middle of his killing spree. “He looked me in the eye and said I’ve got a lot of work to do – ‘after all this’ – cleaning up blood, and guts, and stuff. He said he had no hard feelings toward me, mostly because out of all the weed he ever smoked in his life, he said just about all fifty pounds of it came from me and my people.”
Harold Strafford, just moments before snapping into a psychopathic killing spree.
No word yet on how the family’s victims will cope with today’s brutal tragedy, but sources are already reporting intake of marijuana, alcohol and barbiturates to ease the pain of losing a father, a brother, a son, a daughter, wife, a sister, a close friend – all beloved office drones – all sacrificed at the hands of a case of the Mondays.
Our prayers and the prayers of Lebal Drocer, Inc. go out to the SlavTech Corporation whose untold suffering won’t be felt until Monday, when Human Resources must undergo the arduous task of listing several job openings on the Internet date rape site craigslist.org.
"It is also my pleasure to clean up after you, and mop where you miss, when you piss. Mypleasurepleasedrivearound."
This is the story of Tony Hoagland, and countless others like himself, whose pleasure it is to serve up Taco Bell products to your ever-widening asses.
A carload of Taco Bell patrons order Gorditas and authentic Mexican Dorito Shell Taco Supremes through a box in the menu. The driver half-heartedly thanks the loudspeaker as he reaches for his wallet. “My pleasure,” grunts the box. The people in the car look at each other, and back at the driver, who mouths the words ‘my pleasure’ as he creeps up to the drive-thru window. Tony Hoagland, 27, reaches out to accept the man’s bills and, without smiling, asks if he would like any sauce. Hoagland can barely contain his joy, but after serving hard time for involuntary manslaughter, he is known to keep a good pokerface.
Hoagland enjoys serving customers so much, in fact, that he can not wait for their responses before he can relate his feelings to them, so he pours out all thoughts at once.
“That’ll be twelve o seven please pull aroun’ and thankyoumypleasure.”
His manager explained: To the untrained ear, it sounds like he’s just used to saying it four hundred times per day, for eleven hours straight. But to seasoned beef specialist Erin McMahue, Hoagland’s heart is clearly in it. “He just really wants people to recognize the pleasure he and thousands of Taco Bell associates deal with on an hourly basis, at hourly base pay.”
Taco Bell, McMahue explained, is all about the customer, and as much as the customer enjoys passing Taco Bell products through his or her repleted digestive system, the pleasure belongs mainly to the employees who serve them, who have said ‘my pleasure’ so many times the sensation of pleasure is no longer recognizable and – should it arise – may bring with it other familiar feelings, such as fear and contempt.
Taco Bell employees are reckoned by chronicle.su physician Dr. Langstrom H. Troubedauer to be the most pleasure-sensitive breed of Americans in the Western Hemisphere, surpassing Army wives, plastic surgeons, “even porn stars.”
Police retake control of a VCU Earth Day protest Friday.
RICHMOND – Police were stationed in and around various Earth Day tents where, among celebratory tye die t-shirts, crappy artwork and hemp necklaces, small pipes were sold, a clear sign that the non-aggressive pot smoking community are somehow winning the war on drugs.
Tents were allowed, and musicians were allowed to play at the event as long as they agreed not to mention the #occupy movement. Some did, and were arrested for trespassing.
Arresting officer Leroy T. Roane said one man kicked, screamed and spat in the faces of VCU security who attempted to escort him off the premises. In response to the offender’s jeering, Roane replied, “I guess you can arrest an idea, if it is trespassing.”
Walker Reddington, a Senior at VCU School of Psychology, witnessed the incident and reached deep within her intellectual capacity to surmise a reaction when she said, “Most ideas trespass all the time.”
Reddington, who was high, said the smell of patchouli incense attracted her to the scene. “I’m pretty hungry, though, so I’ll probably leave,” she said, adding, “Also I don’t have any money.”
Some of the cheapest, lowest quality items available cost one dollar and proceeds went to plants, rocks and mother nature, for whom there is no practical use of currency.
Friday, the @AnonymousIRC Twitter account made an uncalled for and wholly sexist attack against @RevMagdalen, a church leader who has faced religious persecution. Reverend Magdalen’s feed has often featured opinions about the manifold dangers created by Occupy and Anonymous, as well as educational material on related subjects.
This disrespectful and frankly sexist attack against Reverend Magdalen is exactly the same as what Rush Limbaugh did to Sandra Fluke. Both Rush Limbaugh and AnonymousIRC found themselves threatened by a woman of greater intellect and resorted to sexist remarks. Limbaugh did use coarser language, but the message was the same: You are a sexual object and nothing more, now be quiet while the boys talk about important stuff. AnonymousIRC could not be bothered to apologize to Reverend Magdalen, so in that way he is actually worse than Limbaugh.
Among such “radical activists” as Anonymous, this kind of sexism should have no place. No voices within “Anonymiss,” a bitterly repressed class of the Anonymous collective, have spoken up to support Reverend Magdalen. Anonymiss is too busy entertaining their superiors by posing naked with Guy Fawkes masks and putting sharpies in their anus. The demand for increasingly demeaning pictures of Anonymous-supporting women is a hallmark of the Anonymous culture, and in this light the demands of AnonymousIRC become even more clear.
Reverend Magdalen is a lot more than just stupid tweets. AnonymousIRC isn’t.
Wind Turbines can catch fire and kill all the ULTRA RARE piratebush found ONLY on Poor Mountain
I knew Old Man Charlie from the days of my youth on Poor Mountain. That old man mostly kept to himself, but when I’d see him walking around on the mountain, he’d talk my ear off. Charlie told a lot of stories, but the ones that always got him worked up the most were the stories of what he called “dem saclones.” Charlie spent a lot of time walking the ridge of Poor Mountain, just to pass the time, but I always liked to ask him about dem saclones.
From what the old man told me, I gathered that he had been experiencing some kind of ultra-rare meteorological phenomenon that may be unique to Poor Mountain. It’s hard for me to go into any detail, but Charlie described clouds quickly forming very close to the ground, twisting like a cyclone. Within the course of a few minutes, an extremely small area would be pelted with up to quarter-sized hail. Sometimes the hail would be smaller, and the affected area could be as large as a house or as small as a frisbee.
Honestly, I never believed that old man. After he died, I wondered a little about Charlie’s stories and eventually researched some information on the internet. I learned that it’s possible “dem saclones” were also called Microstorms. No one on the internet seemed to have seen these vicious kind of tornadic hail Microstorms, and I tried contacting a few meteorologists. None of them seemed to believe the stories from Charlie, and just said that Microstorms were not proven science. However, Poor Mountain surely has great importance as a possible meteorological oddity.
Poor Mountain is located in Roanoke, Virginia, and is currently under threat of industrial development for wind power. Help us, Anonymous. Hack our government into submission for Old Man Charlie and his crazy cyclones. They’re probably real, and when those wind turbines go up, the Microstorms may disappear forever. Have you ever seen what happens when a wind turbine gets pelted with an intense cyclone full of quarter-size hail? Mayhem. Pure mayhem is coming to Poor Mountain if this wind farm is approved. STOP THEM NOW.
In the face of foreclosure, Chronicle staff research carnal knowledge from deep within a mortgaged volcano base.
Chronicle HQ, Bolivia– Chronicle.su, or The Elf Wax Phoenix which arose from the burning flames of a better website, is celebrating Chronicle Day, the journal’s Holy Day of Praise. Dubbed C-Day, the annual holiday is a special time when throngs of teenage women thrust themselves into the iron gates of Lebal Drocer, Inc.
As salmon casting their bodies upstream, tides of fresh young women offer themselves in sacrifice to Veritus, God of Truth, eagerly vying to feed his demands. Seeking a cut of the criminal activity – and Bolivian cocaine – thought to be horded deep within Chronicle Mountain, many of these women have attained super bitch powers granting them the means to cast off their skin as dead ringers, and hunt us in the 4th dimension.
At sundown, a robed figure approached the electronic security gate, allowing a harem of six young women inside, most of them legal. Fifteen minutes later, the girls are presumed missing.
Found inside are thought to be all manner of freedoms, some of them American.
“I think they’re holed up in there doing drugs,” said Chief Daniel Spoktane of an unnamed paramilitary force, whose agents are stretched thin around the 14 kilometer electrified perimeter of Chronicle.su. “And I think there’s a pretty good chance they could be having fun.”
Chief Spoktane indicated plans to subjugate the website by individually arresting each member of chronicle.su one by one.
“We aren’t sure what they owe on a volcanic base like this,” he said, “but the banks have already foreclosed on it so we’re here to bag ‘em up and ship ‘em out.”
Most official chronicle.su business takes place inside a fortified safe room through which authorities will have to cut open, like a bunch of n00b construction workers; that is, assuming spies don’t sap our sentries, in which case we’re fucked.
CHRONICLE.SU – TASTE THE LIGHTNING
At chronicle.su we take our jobs seriously.
One glance at our track record will tell you we mean business.
“Fucking criminal-ass bitches, and telling you the truth.”
Cess Poole makes his living stealing money from people's wallets.
Cess Poole, chronicle.su writer, expressed wishes Sunday to produce new material. Almost immediately, however, the young penman changed his mind.
“He was like, ‘Fuck it,’” said fellow writer and chronicle.su editor Frank Mason.
With mounting debt, a sick girlfriend and hungry children at his feet, Poole has long been in a slump he can only describe as “inescapable.”
“It’s like, all the pressures of life are just fucking me up lately,” said Poole. “It’s like, I don’t care about nothing man. And it feels like I never will.”
The change of heart, Poole clarified, was not spurred on by a reported decline in marijuana abuse. To the contrary, the father of one and a half has only been clean for two days short of a work week. “And to be fair,” he said, “that’s a record.”
Instead, sources believe a source of creativity within Poole may simply have never existed at all.
“There’s just nothing there to nurture,” reported Mike Satton, chronicle.su social analyst and young talent scout for the publication. “I mean, if he did something besides spend other people’s money and playing with his prick all day, then yeah, you might have something to work with. But this is nuttin’. Nuttin’!”
Where Poole might end up next is anyone’s guess. Possible locations according to Poole include jail, his mother’s house, or face down in a ditch somewhere near his father’s home.
For the hottest most up-to-date information on Cess Poole, check the police blotter in your local newspaper or ask your drug dealer.
Chronicle lawyers speaking candidly on the matter showed little faith in the future well-being of the estranged chronicle.su writer. “Frankly though,” said Julius Epstein, chronicle.su attorney, “those of us here at the chronicle expect to see his mugshot on national news within the month.”
Chronicle.su lawyers are accustomed to bailing writers out of jail, but with an increase in legal trouble, combined with lack of contributions, editors for the first time ever are considering dropping Cess Poole from their services permanently.
“He’s a drag. And he’s always making everyone uncomfortable, offering us speed during business meetings. Selling me weed in my bosses’ offices. And I don’t even know how to react anymore when he tells me his children are hungry. Where does all that drug money go?”
This message is brought to you selflessly by Lebal Drocer, Inc.
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LIBERTY POLL FINDS 100% OF AMERICANS TO BE "GROSSLY UNDER-PATRIOTIC"