Saturday, January 31, 2004

Welcome To The Jungle

Much to the delight of our booze fueled readership around the world, the Rant is - once again - open for business, proving that I will write just about anything for anyone provided I’m sufficiently compensated in one form or another (you want the 10 commandments written in maple syrup across my back? We can probably work something out if you have a crumpled up 20 dollar bill lying around someplace).

Of course, we've undergone some cosmetic changes, as well as a name change, but I'm now returning to our original`Blogger` format (Blogger being internet slang for 'web log', not a racial slur for an African American woodsman).

I've somehow managed to recapture my techno-libertoid groove after over a year of excruciating writer’s block. There's nothing pretty about a writing slump, especially when my readership places such heavy demands on my limited intellect. They want in-depth and interesting analysis of the days salient issues, with lots of naughty pop-culture references and fart jokes thrown in the mix.

Writing can be a brutal business, especially when your brain is acting like the third hack-up for the ring toss team of the special Olympics. It's hard to explain - your brain just freezes. When I'm in a slump, I can't even be bothered to try. The stuff I crank out during my down time sounds like the ramblings of a Church of Scientology freak after a night of eating lead-based paint chips - it's not pretty.

Blogging requires frequent daily updates, and I'm afraid the block is going to hit me again in a few months like the fickle mistress that it is -but this time, I won't be able to hide out in cyberspace, locked in my apartment drinking beer and reading Maxim while calling old friends and screaming at them over real and imagined slights. I call it Alec Baldwin Syndrome, because during these down times I always look damn good, but my intellectual prowess is somewhere on par with a brain sucking pod person.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the new site.

Cordially

Joe

Friday, January 30, 2004

Would You Like Some Cheese With That French Whine?

Interesting...Apparently, if my fellow pundits are to be believed, there’s a quagmire going on, and if you can suspend your disbelief even further, post-war rebuilding in Iraq is not going as planned. This, of course, is complete nonsense. The more astute of my readers may remember that similar criticism was leveled against the administration during the Afghan Campaign. The last time I checked, Afghanistan is now liberated, the U.S. didn’t loot their stockpiles of pita bread, and now women can go to school and giggle on the street corner without fear of some guy named Waleed ripping out their ovaries with a rusty cattle prod. Naturally, there’s still the tired old bleating from the nay-sayers who claim this supposed (imagined) mess is a direct result of the administration’s “rush to war”. Rushed? Compared to what? The shifting of the tectonic plates? We’ve spent the last 13 years playing the bio-chemical equivalent of Where’s Waldo with these guys, so to say that Dubya “rushed” into this war is like saying Rosie O’Donnell is partial to leafy green vegetables and low-carb snacks.

Even of greater interest, if you look closely at the labels on the barrels of white powder they found in Baghdad, pay attention to the language the labels are written in. Think cheap wine, bad cheese, government subsidized holidays, two hour lunch breaks, and Jerry Lewis movies.

Cordially

Joe

Kerry-Liberal War Hawk

What's the appeal of John Kerry? He kind of looks like a cross between K.D. Lang and Dick Clark. I guess he's got a sort of digruntled, ex-vet, lesbian thing going on for him. I can never quite grasp this liberal war-hawk position. Really. They say, "Yeah, we supported the war, and still do, but we feel betrayed and misled."

Who the hell cares? Isn't that kind of like a 5 year old child whining in the back seat of the Volvo about how "I DON'T CARE IF YOU BROUGHT ME TO BURGER KING!! YOU SAID WE WOULD BE GOING TO THE OTHER BURGER KING!!!"

Ok kid, listen. You got your damn Whopper Jr kids combo. You wanted the damn Whopper Jr kids combo, so who the hell cares where we bought it? If you wanted it so much, why don't you just eat it and shut the hell up?

Cordially

Joe

Ooga Booga

I'm tired, because I finally gave in and stayed up late to watch the first Harry Potter movie, which is just slightly shorter in length than the entire Godfather trilogy. Now, I always considered the claims about Harry Potter having Satanic undertones to be nothing more than the silly rantings of ultra religious fanatics until I actually saw this movie.

The kid lives in closet marked 7-13, and within 20 minutes of the movie he's already started talking to giant snakes. Oh yeah, and he laughs gleefully at the misfortunes of others, like when he uses his magic ooga-booga powers to trap his cousin in a glass cage with the giant snake he likes to talk to. Little Harry constantly has this perplexed little grin on his face that makes him look a ten year old who just smoked a big fat bag of weed.

Granted, the movie is visually stunning, and lots of fun to watch. Go rent it if Memento is already out. Hell, just rent Gladiator again instead. MAXIMUS! MAXIMUS!! MAXIMUS!!!!

Cordially

Joe

Thursday, January 29, 2004

Me Oh Mya Lobsta Gumbo!!!!

I sat next to a guy on the bus up to Bathurst. He owns a seafood restaurant about 20 kilometers outside of Charlottetown that specializes in Gumbo dishes and Kayak tours. He seemed somewhat perplexed as to why spicy Lobster Gumbo followed by hours of treacherous water sports has failed to catch on amongst the jet-set crowd. He also seemed to have a bizarre aversion to the technological marvel called Kleenex, as he was coughing and hacking constantly like a SARS patient on a flight from Hong Kong. Rather than cover his mouth, he let his violent sneezes forcefully erupt from his nasal passages, leaving a fine mist of spit and snot lingering in the air like spooky graveyard fog in a horror movie. Given his fondness for sampling the delicacies he was constantly extracting from his nose, I would suggest that you avoid Paddler’s Pub at all costs during your next trip to the Island (he proudly confided that he does all the cooking, and I am not exaggerating when I say that Saddam Hussein’s fingerails were probably in better shape than this guy's when they hauled him out of that rat hole in Tikrit).

Cordially

Joe

YEEAAAAAARRGGGGGG

Ok, first off, what the hell is Dennis Kucinich, anyway? Christ, if you could genetically splice the DNA of Prince Charles and Gilligan from the old TV series, I'm pretty sure the result would look something like him. My GOD, talk about getting the short end of the stick in the gene pool. He kind of reminds me of the character Sean Penn played in "I Am Sam". Half way through the debate I almost expected him to say "Yeah, double latte, excellent choice sir, that's a very good choice."

And Dean, Lord almighty, the man needs a Ritalin or a Valium the size of a hub cap. He sounded like a donkey on crack - "YEEEEARRRRRRRRRG....YEEEAAARRRRRRG." How many kids who stayed up past their bed time with mom dad are going to have nightmares for the next month with that man's bizarre howl haunting their sleep?

"Mommy, can I sleep with you and dad tonight? I think that the donkey man is in my closet, and he's going to come out and scream 'YEEEAAAARRRRRGGGGG!' Is it true he's coming to our state mom? He said so when he was screaming. He screamed he was going to come here. Please don't let him come here mommy!!"

Cordially

Joe