6:10 pm CST


6:07 pm CST
Does Bush Look Drunk to You?

Bush may or may not be drunk in this CNN newsclip (WMV), but if I were a cop I'd definitely make him take a sobriety test.

1:02 pm CST
Calling Al CIAda: Bush Needs Your Help

GOP Memo Touts New Terror Attack as Way to Reverse Party's Decline

9:12 am CST
The Right to Bear Arms

This past week San Francisco voters approved a citywide ban on handguns. It is now illegal for anyone in that city to do what the following persons recently did to defend themselves:

60-Year-Old Homeowner (with Handgun) Shoots Alleged Intruder Dead

66-Year-Old Grandmother (with Handgun) Shoots Intruder

Handgun owners in San Francisco have until April to surrender their weapons. The law-abiding citizens will do this; the criminals of course will not. As a result, it will be open season on law-abiding citizens, and anyone so unlucky as to encounter an intruder in his or her home will be more likely to die.

Fortunately, the National Rifle Association has challenged this illegal ban. It is expected to be overturned, thus there is a chance that the right to defend oneself and one's family will be preserved in San Francisco, despite the best efforts of 57% of the voters to voluntarily give up that right.

What on earth were they thinking?

3:02 pm CST
Summit Meeting



Brian Roper, whose humorous File 23 columns are often linked on this site, has been a good friend of mine for the past three years. We met by email, and have carried on a lively correspondence on a wide variety of topics all this time, but did not meet face to face until recently when Brian journeyed from Fort Worth to Austin to visit his friends Baird and Susannah Blanton (who recently moved here from Los Angeles). On a Friday evening, the three of them visited me and Diane, and we all had a raucous good time. Later, Brian sent me the above photo which commemorates the historic summit meeting; that's Brian on the right, me on the left.

Brian reports that he enjoyed his time in Austin (the first time he's been here in a number of years); however, he made the journey by Amtrak--an experience he found to be less than fun. Read all about Brian's miserable Amtrak experience in this article: Amcrap! Riding the Snails ...

12:25 pm CST
The Mexican Klan

Leader Of Racist Aztlan Movement Calls for French-Style Riots in US

12:22 pm CST
Cui Bono?

Wayne Madsen: Neo-con/fascist provocateurs behind French riots?

12:35 pm CST
"God bless Daddy Reagan ..."



My good friend and fellow comic artist Ethan Persoff has just added another exhibit to his on-line gallery of educational comics. This one is especially fascinating: a CIA-produced comic, Grenada: Rescued from Rape and Slavery, that was air-dropped during the 1983 invasion of Grenada. Go HERE and scroll down to read the entire comic.

4:41 pm CST
Yesterday in Austin

Yesterday, 14 members of the Ku Klux Klan held a rally at the City Hall here in Austin, Texas, to show support for Proposition 2, a proposed constitutional amendment that would ban gay marriage in Texas. Nearby, 3,000 persons held an anti-Klan demonstration. The two groups were kept apart by 200 police in riot gear. There was no violence, and only two demonstrators (anti-Klan) were arrested.

Texas stereotypes to the contrary, Klan rallies in Austin do not happen every day; the last ones I can recall were in the early 1980s when two rallies were held at the State Capitol. During the first, police beat a prominent local Hispanic activist who had shown up to protest the Klan. I have forgotten the activist's name (this was 20 years ago), but I well remember the beating. It was captured on videotape by a local television station; about a dozen police could be seen crowding around the man, swinging their billy-clubs, each eager for a hit. This incident was big news in Austin at the time, although it appears to be largely forgotten now.

Several months later (it might have been longer, I don't remember), there was another Klan rally at the Capitol. I happened to be downtown and saw the crowd. Curious to check out the action, I parked my car and walked to the Capitol. Nothing much happened this time, just a lot of shouting by the anti-Klan demonstrators; a few people were arrested, but there were no beatings.

When the Klan members finished their rally, they were escorted by police to a chartered bus. I went back to my car. As I circled the Capitol, I saw the bus pulling away, accompanied by a few motorcycle cops.

I followed it--I can't remember why, exactly--it was just an impulse born of idle curiosity, I guess. As there was not much traffic in Austin in those days, it was easy to keep the bus in view.

We drove north. A few blocks from the Capitol, the motorcycle escort dropped away from the bus. Without a police escort, it looked like any other bus now, attracting no attention from anyone, except me.

The bus continued up Guadalupe, merged with North Lamar, passed Austin Books, passed 51st Street, and kept on going north. After passing Koenig Street, it turned left onto a side street and pulled up to a non-descript group of warehouses surrounded by a tall cyclone fence. A man waiting there unlocked the gate and let the bus onto the property, where it disappeared behind the warehouses.

I made the block and passed the property again. No one was around to see me, so I slowed down to read a small sign on the gate. After all these years, I cannot recall exactly what the sign said, but basically it identified the fenced-in area as city property. Nearby were parked a few City of Austin trucks, and in a crack of space between two warehouses I saw several police cars.

I drove away, but did not leave the area. I circled around for awhile, wondering why the Klansmen had been brought here. It had been reported that they were not from Austin, but (like the Klansmen who rallied here yesterday) were from some other Texas town. So why stop here? Wouldn't it make more sense for the bus to keep on driving to whatever town the Klansmen came from?

After a while, I passed the facility for perhaps the tenth time and saw the bus driving out of the facility. Except for the driver, it was now empty.

It was as if the Klan had been stored in one of the warehouses, until such time as it was needed again.

This incident made me suspicious of the relationship between the Klan and law enforcement--a suspicion that deepened in 1998, when it came to light that the FBI had established a Klan chapter in Fort Worth, Texas, with the intent of blowing up a chemical plant in nearby Arlington. As a result of this episode, Texas Monthly magazine honored the FBI with one of its Bum Steer Awards.

So, nowadays, when the Klan comes to town, I see agents provocateur at work, and that is how I interpret yesterday's rally.

The motive is readily apparent. Yesterday's rally served as a distraction. It threw gasoline on the media-generated fire of gay marriage, angering everyone on both sides of the issue--gay marriage supporters of course, but also the opponents who resent being associated with the Klan--thus causing more confusion, more division, and diverting attention from other issues, such as the war in Iraq, depleted uranium, torture, the Patriot Act, Codex Alimentarius, the New Freedom Initiative, microchip implants, biological weapons, population control, and about ten thousand other threats to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Oh, and lest we forget: Yesterday's distraction also gave the cops an opportunity to strut around in their riot gear, showing us how big and powerful they are while getting some practice in "crowd control." Opportunities like that don't come every day, and they don't happen by themselves; such opportunities have to be created. And that's what provocateurs are for.

Old Joke:

What's the definition of a Ku Klux Klan meeting?

Ten FBI agents in sheets waiting for a sucker to show up ...

1:10 CST


12:35 pm CST
Hillbilly Superman

DREAM: I am watching a movie on television, Superman--a new version in which he is a snaggle-toothed hillbilly with Elvis sideburns ... Sitting at the kitchen table one day, his hillbilly parents tell him his true origin, how he was found in the cornfield when he was a baby and raised as if he were their own. Before long, he exhibited superhuman strength, causing them to think he must be from outer space ... Hearing that he is a spaceman fires the boy's imagination. Then, one day, he sees a Superman cartoon on television. "That's me!" he exclaims ... Now he knows his destiny; he will travel to the Big City to fight crime ... He shaves off his Elvis sideburns, buys some glasses so he will be able to disguise himself when he is not being Superman, and packs his costume (fashioned out of long-handle underwear by his mother) into a little suitcase along with his most valued possessions, three children's books (although he is a grown man, his reading skills are rudimentary). Then, waving goodbye to his family, he steps out into the sunlight and looks up at the town's water tower. There is a big V on the tower; it stands for Vaccine. He thinks, "One day, instead of that thar' V, thar'll be a big pitcher' of me up thar' and the words 'Smallville, Birthplace of Superman.'" He walks down the road (apparently he cannot fly), bound for the Big City. He can see it ahead on the horizon: great silver buildings shaped like rockets, pointing upwards to the sky. The sight is thrilling, at first. But, as he gets closer, he grows doubtful. There is something sinister about the Big City ...

11:38 am CST
More on the Bird Flu Fraud

Stratfor Special Report: Bird Flu and You

Rumsfeld Profits from Bird Flu Scare

Bush Administration Could Restrict Travel to Prevent Flu

11:38 am CST
The Bird Flu Fraud

Is Avian Flu another Pentagon Hoax?

British Medical Journal: Avian Virus Does Not Have the Capacity to Cause a Human Pandemic

11:38 am CST
War on the First Amendment

Hate Crime Laws: Criminalizing Free Speech

11:38 am CDT
Plamegate

Indictment Hot Air: The Phony Left's Monica Lewinsky

Fitzgerald's Indictments Won't Net All the Bad Guys

7:15 pm CDT
Grudge Match: Bush vs. The Onion

As you all know, the Bush administration is in a terrible fix. The Iraq War and the Hurricane Katrina debacle have sent Bush's approval ratings spiraling downward into the toilet. To make matters worse, Bush's nomination of his unqualified personal lawyer Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court has outraged even his supporters. And, to worsen matters still further, the grand jury looking into the Valerie Plame matter is expected to issue indictments this week for certain top administration officials.

At a such a time as this, it is to be expected that White House officials would work overtime to minimize or contain the damage (perhaps fatal) to the president's prestige. And so they have-by issuing a cease-and-desist letter to The Onion.

It seems that the on-line satirical newspaper has been parodying the president's weekly radio addresses, and accompanying these parodies with the presidential seal. (LINK) According to the White House, the use of the seal is a problem because it lends an authenticity to these parodies that might cause people to mistake them for real presidential addresses (as if the surreal policies of the Neo-Cons and idiocy of Bush himself are not enough by themselves to make it difficult these days to differentiate satire from real life) ...

Onion Bites Back at White House

7:38 am CDT
Weather Modification

40-year-old proven technology lies dormant as lives and livelihoods are wrecked: Government Weather Control Won't Stop Hurricane Wilma

12:09 pm CDT
A Birthday Surprise

DREAM: It's December. I'm having a birthday party. Several friends are there; the conversation is political and subversive, as would be expected at a party of mine. However, my father is present; as a Bush supporter, he takes issue with what's being said. I can see he's angry, so try to avoid getting into a big argument with him, but can't; he insists on drawing me into an argument. I tell him I don't regard Bush as a duly elected president. I say, "Why should this surprise you? It's nothing new. American history is full of crooked elections. Lyndon Johnson never won an honest election in his life, and as much as I might admire certain things about Kennedy the truth is he won the West Virginia primary due to Mob influence. So what's so surprising about these last two elections being crooked? Besides, it's all proven fact ..."

My father quiets down. The subversive conversations continue. Then George W. Bush walks into the room. Apparently, someone without my knowledge invited him, thinking it would be a nice surprise for me if the president attended my birthday party. But it's not a nice surprise; it's extremely awkward. His presence kills all conversation in the room.

I don't know what to say, but decide to be polite. He is the president, after all, even if the elections were rigged. Grudgingly, I get up and shake his hand, saying, "Welcome, Mr. President." I hate saying it-the words almost stick in my craw-and, as soon as I say them, I recall those were the exact words in the banner headline of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram on the morning Kennedy was killed. I am struck by the unintended irony.

Bush doesn't say a word, but stands there looking around the room with smirkful disdain. I realize we are standing near the bookshelf where The Bush Junta is prominently displayed. Ever the polite host, not wanting anyone-even Nazi scumball Bush-to be embarrassed at my party, I steer him away from the bookshelf and try to make conversation. I don't have any idea what to say, so end up saying something about how I enjoyed my last trip to Washington, DC, ask him if he's ever been to the Smithsonian. He just sneers; it's obvious he doesn't like me and only came to the party out of a sense of obligation to whoever-the-hell invited him. Then, still trying to be a gracious host, I ask him if he'd like a beer. As soon as I say it, I remember he's an alcoholic. But it doesn't matter; it turns out he's already helped himself to the last beer in the refrigerator. "No thanks," he says, holding it up, "but I could use a napkin." So I go to the kitchen to get him one, but all I can find is a napkin lying on the counter that someone has already used. I smooth it out so it looks unused and take it to him. By this time, he's lying on the couch with his beer, holding a puppy dog he's brought to the party. He's about to fall asleep--much to everyone's relief--when a foolish, grinning old woman sitting at a piano decides it would be nice to serenade him with a song. Everyone stands up, Bush included, while she sings some stupid song in his honor. It's all very embarrassing, but I make the best of the situation, standing stiffly with a fake smile frozen on my face. Luckily, it doesn't last long; before the woman finishes the song, Bush contemptuously turns his back on her and lies back down on the couch with his beer and puppy dog. Flustered, she stops singing. With much eye rolling and head shaking, everyone sits down and tries to pick up their conversations where they left off before Bush arrived.

I look around and am irritated by the sight of used napkins and empty glasses around the room. Even though the party is not over, I go around the room, stepping over Christmas presents and Christmas lights, and start picking up the trash. When I'm finished, I sit by the window, wishing Bush had never shown up. I remember my earlier attempt to steer him away from The Bush Junta, and it occurs to me he probably already knows about the book; surely, a full background check was done on me when he received the invitation to the party. That would account for his bad attitude from the moment he walked in the door.

Then I start wondering about the absence of bodyguards. They're probably outside, I think. I turn and look out the window and, sure enough, see an appallingly huge security presence surrounding the apartment complex: tanks, soldiers with machine guns, people being stopped for their papers. My father and I step outside to get a closer look at the spectacle. I comment that it's scary seeing such a police-state presence up close. He agrees, and tells me I should have been keeping a lower profile, should have kept my anti-NWO politics quiet, shouldn't have stuck my neck out, etc. "I know, I know, I know," I say impatiently. "Anyway, it's too late now."

Meanwhile, tv news trucks have shown up to report on the president attending my birthday party. I groan; this is the kind of attention I don't need. I decide it would be a good idea to avoid the tv cameras, also the military checkpoints (I don't have my driver's license on me), so start back to my apartment. The scene morphs into downtown San Antonio, and I am struck by the fact that all this is happening not far from the Alamo ...

12:49 pm CDT
Taser Report

North Carolina:
Man Catches Fire after Being Shot with Taser

Washington:
Man Tasered by Police, Jumps into Lake, Dies

12:24 pm CDT
Wilma: A Meteorological Enigma

Due to its unpredictability, Hurricane Wilma is being described as a "meteorological enigma."

According to the National Hurricane Center, it will probably hit the Florida Keys, but the National Hurricane Center says it is also possible it could hit farther north.

Its future intensity is also uncertain. Previously it came close to reaching an unprecedented Category 6; now it has weakened to a Category 4, but it is not known if it will weaken further-and, for that matter, it could increase in intensity.

The next 48 hours will tell the tale ...

Today on the Alex Jones Show, physicist Bill Livingston will be interviewed on the subject of hurricane control.