Man, I’m sick of fuckheads stealing our funky shit.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Author: Thoughts On The Dead (Page 38 of 1031)
We’ll meet again, Vera Lynn.
- Frosted Flake.
- Owner’s manual to a 1983 Buick Skylark.
- That intern who stopped showing up.
- One perfect, fragile origami gorilla.
- All the dryer socks. (Y’know when you take your clothes out of the dryer and a sock is missing? It’s in John Bolton’s mustache. No one can precisely explain it, but the scientists at CERN are pretty sure it has something to do with quantum entanglement and fabric softener.)
- Peanut shells.
- Allen wrench, but not the size he needed
- A copy of tomorrow’s newspaper, which John Bolton uses to aid strangers and prevent disasters.
- Crumb of gorgonzola cheese shaped like Joe Garagiola.
- Booger. (Not from his nose. Booger from Revenge of the Nerds.)
- Another mustache, smaller but otherwise identical in every way.
- The Microverse, ruled by the dread Baron Karza.
- A faded junkie nurse.
- Lots of balloon animals, for some reason.
We join Put On The Fucking Mask, Asshole already in progress:
“There was no sign outside the store saying that I had to–”
PUT ON THE FUCKING MASK, ASSHOLE!
“The internet says that Bill Gates has urinated on all the masks, and–”
PUT ON THE FUCKING MASK, ASSHOLE!
“Maybe you don’t believe in freedom, but I–”
PUT ON THE FUCKING MASK, ASSHOLE!
“I have incredibly sensitive lips, so–
PUT ON THE FUCKING MASK, ASSHOLE!
This has been Put On The Fucking Mask, Asshole, brought to you by soap. Soap! Use it to wash your hands, you feculent tatterdemalion.
Of late, our nation has embarked on a great discussion about race, kicked off by the killing of George Floyd. The crime–and the recording thereof–sparked protests that may very well lead to systemic change, and one of the reforms that a majority of the country wishes to see is over the question of “When is a police officer permitted to take a life?” As always, public opinion is spread along a spectrum: the furthest-out positions are taken by socialists, antifa, and all the newly-empowered warlords of Seattle’s Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone, who believe that No one should be murdered by the cops, ever; and the cops, whose argument is We’d prefer to keep murdering people without consequences, forever.
To settle the debate, TotD now lays down the law. These are the categories of human that cops are allowed to shoot in the face, and maybe even get a commendation in their personnel folder for doing so:
ACTIVE SNIPER It is immoral NOT to take the shot on an active sniper. Can’t have a guy on the roof of the chemistry building firing into the Quad, not in a functioning society. Completely unacceptable. You are absolutely allowed to put the largest bullet available to you into the frontal lobe of someone in a belltower with an Enfield.
RAMBUNCTIOUS WEREWOLFS I know a werewolf who, when the full moon transforms him into a hellish creature of sin and fur, hangs out on the couch with his wife and watches the Late Movie. Police cannot murder that werewolf. But the one who comes into town and tears the food court a new asshole? Gotta put that doggy down. Although, obviously, you’re gonna need silver bullets. Plus, he’s gonna turn back into a human as he dies, so you really should hope that someone filmed the event, cuz otherwise you’re just standing over a naked guy riddled with bullets that you brought from home, and that’s gonna generate an unbelievable amount of paperwork.
REINCARNATED HITLER Tell me that cops can’t blow Reincarnated Hitler away, I dare you. I DARE YOU to say that to me. I refer back to the active sniper situation: It is one’s moral duty to murder Reincarnated Hitler on sight. He will cause trouble! That is what he does!
SIN EATERS The cheese is greed. On the nipples; the cheese goes on the nipples. These are the lessons we have learned, learned from the wise. Put the roast beef on his dick; I will eat the roast beef off his dick; the roast beef is wrath, transubstantially; o, such lessons from the wise. Where are the crackers? Theomasticulation branfitty branfitty, wine? Shlorp! Thulp! Tumor loeave, and toother thwillows and then BANG two in the head and his blood’s all over your Ivy League suit. The Sin Eater must not reach the border; give his picture to the cossacks.
SPAGHETTTI & MEATBALLS If spaghetti & meatballs comes to life, then cops can shoot ’em. I’m good with that. No one needs sentient Italian cuisine roaming around; it would freak people out, and the economy’s shaky enough as it is.
This is where I stop you, generally.
For good reason. The post has become gibberish.
Become?
It was vaguely comprehensible at first.
For a very vague definition of “vaguely.”
Oh, sure.
Latin me that, me Trinity scholar.
I said everything I needed to say in the title of the post.
WHEREAS the blacks are completely out of control, rioting, looting, burning down Wendy’s even though Wendy’s has the most beautiful fries, even when they get a little cold. McDonald’s fries have to be right out of the thing, with the basket, the kid dips ’em in and lifts ’em out, and then there’s the salt. Gotta eat those right away, but you can let Wendy’s fries sit, unless blacks burn the place down, which we can’t allow; and,
WHEREAS the cops have to crack some skulls now and then, otherwise you have chaos and no one wants chaos except antifa and maybe the very, very socialist Supreme Court, who are maybe antifa now, too. Infiltrated? You put on those robes and no one knows who you are; and,
WHEREAS the choking is a bit much, but sometimes you have to choke. A lot of the times, our beautiful cops who are so very strong have to deal with the worst kind of blacks, and then you have to choke. No one wants to choke, but you have to. Sleepy Joe Biden will say eight minutes of choking is too much, but he doesn’t understand how bad some of these blacks are; and,
WHEREAS I cured AIDS; and,
WHEREAS now they want to get rid of Aunt Jemima! You can’t win with these blacks! They hate statues, they hate the flag, they want dry pancakes. This is why sometimes you have to choke; and,
WHEREAS motorcycle cops have some of the most spectacular uniforms on the planet. The boots are such tremendous boots, and we won’t do anything to change that, and anyone who kneels in cop boots should be thrown out of the NFL; and,
WHEREAS ramps are now illegal; and,
WHEREAS the blacks and antifa in Seattle have 24 hours to give back our wonderful police precinct, where so many great things happen, or I will send in the Navy to dominate the entire city; and,
WHEREAS Americans love law and order, and I am the law and order president, so we have to have law and order. Some people like law better, in terms of preference. Others go with order. Both are great. You need both, like salt and pepper. Law and order, salt and pepper, bing bang boom.
IT IS SO ORDERED.
What did the Supreme Court decide today?
Korean.
Pardon?
Alito and Sotomayor were pushing hard for pizza, but Korean won out. You would think the Justices would each order their own lunches, but tradition demands a communal meal. Huge waste of time, too. Takes hours. And then there’s always a fight over whether they should get delivery or send a clerk to pick it up. An incredibly inefficient use of the Court’s valuable time.
You just gonna fuck around for the whole post?
Let’s see!
I repeat my initial query.
The U.S. Supreme Court voted 6-3 in favor of recognizing the basic human rights of a subset of the population.
“Basic human rights” was 6-3?
Hey, “basic human rights” has been on the losing side of 9-0 before.
I have a feeling you’re using loaded and biased language to make a complicated issue seem like a simple one.
I totally am! Well spotted!
Can’t get one by me. Without editorializing, what actually happened?
A word was redefined. Actually, it was most likely defined for the first time.
Explain.
What does “sex” mean?
It means the world to my wife and I. That’s how we connect.
Now you’re fucking around!
We’re scamps. You want me to define “sex?”
Yes.
Uh.
Right. There’s the physical act, but what counts? Sloppy second is not sex, but sloppy third is absolutely sex. Or are you talking about gender? Biological determinism or metaphysical essentialism? “Sex” also means “six” in German. The word “sex” is like the word “love” in that it means so many things as to render itself useless for close-in work. It’s a vague word, and those should not appear in legal documents.
What legal documents are we talking about here?
The Civil Rights Act of 1964.
An incredibly legal document.
Laws issue forth from it! That’s how legal that document is!
Settle down, Beavis. What’s the Civil Rights Act of 1964?
Well, the name kinda explains it. The main thrust of it was: Stop treating black people that way. Had to let ’em vote, live where they wanted, use the town pool, that sort of thing. The differently-religioned and ladies got thrown in, but it was mostly about black folks.
Thrown in?
“Sex” was added to the list of protected attributes–race, color, national origin–at the last minute by a powerful Democratic Senator from Virginia looking to poison the bill.
Wow.
Maybe. He was a virulent racist, but he did go on to support the ERA. So he could’ve been sincere. It’s complicated. Let’s just note that “sex” was a last-minute addition that no one put any thought into.
So noted.
A new protected class was formed, but its parameters weren’t defined. It’s like trying to enforce a dress code at a nudist colony.
Is it?
Probably not. I don’t think that was my strongest simile. I’ll recover, though.
You’re a soldier.
The question, therefore, was What the fuck does “sex” mean? Does it mean identity or orientation?
We’ve already determined I am unable to answer that.
It’s unanswerable. I mean, it’s unanswerable now. In 1964, “you can’t discriminate on the basis of sex” meant “you’re not allowed to fire chicks.” Legal protection for homosexuals was absolutely, positively, 100% not what the framers of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 meant by “sex.” Gay rights wasn’t a thing in 1964, not in the U.S. Congress. And it CERTAINLY wasn’t intended to apply to those lovely transgender folks. The idea that the Title VII protections accorded on basis of “sex” in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 were supposed to be afforded to homosexuals and transgenders is laughable. From an Originalist view, a broad reading of statute is unthinkable.
So why don’t we go with that?
Because Originalism is fucking dumb. It demands that laws be interpreted according to the original, contemporaneous intent of their framers. Which you’ll realize requires telepathic time travel. There’s no way to know what Congress meant by the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and even if there were, which Congress Member are we talking about? Just the writer? Or does the text itself–as though it were sentient–have a will, an intent which can be plumbed? The entire philosophy of Originalism just repeating “What he meant to say was…” over and over, but in Latin.
We shouldn’t go with that.
I admire your velocity in adopting new positions.
You’re so sweet.
So if we remove the option of holding a seance and asking the dead Congressmen what they meant by “sex,” then what’s left is the actual language of the law. This is called Textualism. It’s the legal version of the “Death of the Author” theory
Oh, I Iove that theory. You can make up whatever bullshit you want.
That’s how the legal version works, too! Which is how the Court found 6-3 today that firing someone cuz they were gay or trans was prohibited by Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
It sounds like you’re unhappy with the ruling.
Not with the effects. I believe in equal protection under the law, and I furthermore believe that many groups of Americans have been denied these rights. The expansion of full citizenship is always a positive. I am in utter favor of the results of the decision.
But?
Everyone involved pulled all of this out of their asses. For 60 years straight! It’s just been sloppy improvisation for 60 years straight! It’s just so…so…
Bush league?
Are there beers left?
I think so.
Good Lord, is that a banjo?
“Only aesthetically. Strung like a decent guitar.”
Happy to hear that.
“One shouldn’t truck with alternate tunings. That’s in the Bible. Or the Constitution. It’s written on parchment, I know that.”
You doing some socially-distant jamming?
“Oh, yeah. Found this site called Chat Roulette. The first couple dozen people I got connected to were hassling themselves, but then I found a guy with a guitar.”
Cool.
“Can’t do that on the bus, y’know.”
What?
“Intensely directed self-interest. Can’t take a #2, and y’can’t battle your bulge. Those are the rules of the bus.”
You really miss the road, don’t you?
“Like Napoleon missed Josephine.”
Sorry, Bobby.
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