Jack Chick Halloween Special - Part 1

For those of you who don't know, Jack Chick is a freaky, FREAKY cartoonist who writes these little comic book tracts that rail against Satanists, gays, evolution, Muslims, liberals, rock music, Freemasons, Dungeons & Dragons, Catholics, Mormons, and basically any form of Christianity that differs from his extreme fundamentalism. In fact, the basic tenet of Chick's faith seems to be that God is a capricious asshole who is just *itching* for an excuse to cast your sinning ass into Hell.

But of all these pressing issues, the one that really seems to get up Chick's ass with cleats on is Halloween. Our man Jack has devoted no less than five of his "Chick Tracts" to exposing Halloween as a vast Satanic conspiracy concocted by druids and pagans to sacrifice small children and boost the sales of tiny Snickers bars.

The Trick (1986)
The first of Chick's Halloween oeuvre is The Trick. This one opens with a coven of diabolical witches hatching their evil scheme to sacrifice children to the devil by poisoning Halloween candy. However, it turns out that this year's Halloween drive has a dual purpose. Membership is down in Club Satan. Apparently role playing games and rock music just aren't bringing in the numbers like they used to, so the witches are also going to put curses on the treats to gain recruits.



On Halloween night, little Johnny Dexter and his friends, Jerry and Susie, go out trick or treating without realizing they are on a collision course with the kind of horrific tragedy that could only be pulled out of the ass of a fundamentalist Christian like Chick. Their neighbor Brenda, who is in league with the forces of evil, gives them all some tainted treats. Johnny dies from eating the poisoned candy, while Jerry ends up in the hospital with cuts in his mouth. Susie also gets sick from eating one of the cursed treats, but manages to recover. And then, irony of ironies, Sister Charity (who masterminded the whole messy caper) has a heart attack and dies while watching the tragedy unfold on the news. And she finds herself in Hell, where the devil taunts her by laughing like Z.Z. Top.



You're probably thinking to yourself at this point, "Thank God this whole sordid tale is over." Well, if so, you're a retard because Jack Chick is just warming up! Remember little Jerry and Susie, who survived the wicked Halloween treats? Well, they've gone from sweet and obedient to unmanageable little monsters who no longer want to go to Sunday School. (In other words, normal children.) Their parents are at wit's end, trying to figure out how to handle their wicked little hellspawn. And Brenda, whom nobody suspects is an undercover agent of Beelzebub, is trying to convince them that it's all just a harmless phase that all kids go through.

But Brenda's plans are undone by the arrival of Becky, a former witch who now serves Jesus. Yes, having turned her back on the dark conspiracy of witchcraft and Satanism, Becky now travels the nation and fights her evil former cohorts with the power of... well, God and the Bible and stuff. Upon meeting Becky, Brenda immediately smells an evangelical rat. And once Becky starts letting loose with the TRUTH behind Halloween, Brenda's suspicions are confirmed.



Becky spins a sordid tale of ancient druids and child sacrifice that Chick *claims* is straight from the pages of The Two Babylons, a pamphlet written by Scottish theologian Alexander Hislop in 1853. However, I suspect most of Chick's information actually came from repeated viewings of Halloween III: Season of the Witch. We learn that the druids were actually part of an ancient protection racket who would go door to door and demand children and virgins from families in exchange for protecting them from the forces of evil. Any families that didn't cough up would end up with a Star of David inscribed on their door, because apparently the Jews were in on it too. And then, someone would die!



Brenda tries to defuse Becky's devil stories by laughing them off as superstition. At first, the parents of the tainted demon kids fall for Brenda's line of reasoning and dismiss Becky's allegations. But then, Becky explains to them that the only reason her stories sound asinine and unbelievable is because IT'S ALL A PART OF SATAN'S PLAN TO TRICK PEOPLE INTO NOT BELIEVING IN HIM! And then, while the parents are scrambling to find the socks that just got blown the hell off their feet, Becky brings it on home and tells them that only the power of Jesus will snap those little misbehaving carpet apes into shape. As Becky leads them in prayer, Brenda vents her frustration by swearing in some goddamn moon man language.



Next: Jack Chick's Boo! rips on Halloween and horror movies, and isn't afraid to use stacks of dead teenagers to bring you closer to the Lord.

A Plot Twist!

There's been a startling development in the Chris and Stephanie love story. It's a bit too early to go into details, but let's just say I'm cautiously optimistic. If this thing has a happy ending, then you'll be among the first to know. If not, well, I'm sure you'll hear about that as well.

As a gesture of good faith, I decided to take down the previous posts on the subject for the time being. It just seems kind of crass to have them hanging out there right now, all things considered...

Anyway, thanks for listening. As always, you guys have been very therapeutic...

Orville Says...

Jokes My Dad Told Me - Part III

A preacher was meeting with three couples who wanted to join his church - an older couple, a middle-aged couple, and a young newly-wed couple.

"Now, love is important in a marriage," he explained, "but love of God is the most important love of all. Before you can join our flock, you must prove that you can put God before your own physical needs. I want each of you to abstain from sexual congress to prove your devotion to the Lord." All three couples agreed this sounded like a fine and noble endeavor, and so they went on their way.

The following week, the preacher met with the three couples to see how they had fared. He asked the older couple, "My children, were you successful? Did you manage to abstain from the wicked temptation of the flesh?" Both shrugged and said, "Sure. No problem." Smiling, the preacher spread his arms and said, "Then I welcome thee into the flock."

Next, he asked the middle-aged couple, "My children, were you successful? Did you manage to abstain from the wicked temptation of the flesh?" The husband nodded and said, "It was a bit rough, preacher, but we persevered and I feel we're all the stronger for it." Spreading his arms again, the preacher smiled at them and said, "Then I welcome thee into the flock."

He turned to the young newly-wed couple, who were shifting nervously and unable to meet his gaze. "And you, my children," the preacher asked. "Were you able to abstain from the wicked temptation of the flesh?"

The wife just looked at the ground and couldn't speak. The husband said nervously, "Well, preacher, I'm afraid we weren't. We held out for four days, but... well... my wife dropped a can of peaches and when she bent down to pick it up, I just couldn't resist any longer. I jumped her and we had sex right there on the floor."

The preacher nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, my children. I hope you understand I won't be able to invite you to join our church."

The husband sighed. "That's okay. I don't think they're going to let us back into Kroger's any time soon either."

Hell is for Help Desk

The following is an actual call I received when I was doing my hellish stint on the Michaels Help Desk last year. The call came in from Tony, a manager at Aaron Brothers Framing who was, as it turns out, dumber than a sack of George W. Bushes.

Me: What's the problem, Tony?
Tony: My computer's all locked up and I've been calling all day but nobody will help me.
Me: I'm not showing any other calls from you today, Tony. Do you remember who you talked to?
Tony: Well, I got tired of being on hold so I hung up.
Me: Okay, gotcha. So when you say your computer is all locked up...
Tony: Yeah, the mouse and stuff won't work. It's on this blue screen.
Me: Ah. Like a fatal error screen?
Tony: Yeah.
Me: Is there a message on the screen?
Tony: Yeah.
Me: Okay, Tony. What does the message say?
Tony: Um... it says "Press Central Alt Del to sign in."
Me: All right. Now we're getting somewhere.
Tony: It's been locked up like this all day. I tried turning it off and on, but it keeps coming up to this screen.
Me: Right. Okay, Tony. Do you see the Control key?
Tony: What?
Me: The Control key. It says C-T-R-L and should be on the lower left corner of your keyboard.
Tony: What was it?
Me: C-T-R-L. Lower left corner.
Tony: The Central key?
Me: Sure. Why not. Did you find it?
Tony: Yeah, but it's not doing anything.
Me: Hang on a second, Tony. Now I need you to find the Alt key. Should be two keys over from the... um... Central key.
Tony: Okay. I'm pushing it.
Me: Hold on, Tony. Not yet. Now I need you to find the Delete key. D-E-L. Should be over by the number keys.
Tony: I pushed that Alt key but nothing happened.
Me: I know, Tony. Did you find the Delete key?
Tony: Um... no, I... wait, here it is.
Me: Okay, good. Now listen carefully. I need you to push the Control key, the Alt key...
Tony: The what?
Me: The *Central* key, okay? I need you to push it, the Alt key, and the Delete key all at the same time.
Tony: Same time?
Me: Yes sir.
Tony: Okay.
Me: Still locked up?
Tony: It's still locked up on a blue screen.
Me: Is it asking you for a user name and a password now?
Tony: A what?
Me: A user name and a password. There should be a box asking you for a user name and a password.
Tony: Oh, yeah. There it is.
Me: Okay, good. In the box that says user name, you're going to type "aabrothers". All in lowercase letters.
Tony: It says my password is incorrect.
Me: That's because we didn't enter one yet, Tony. In the box that says password, you need to type "abros123".
Tony: What?
Me: Lowercase a-b-r-o...
Tony: It's locked up.
Me: What does it say?
Tony: My password is incorrect.
Me: Okay, Tony. Click on OK to make that message go away.
Tony: The mouse isn't working.
Me: Are you sure?
Tony: ...
Me: Tony?
Tony: ...
Me: Tony, are you still there?
Tony: Okay, it's working now.
Me: You're signed in?
Tony: No, I mean the mouse. It's working now.
Me: All right. Now don't hit Enter or anything until I tell you, okay?
Tony: Okay.
Me: In the box that says user name, type "aabrothers". All one word, all in lower case. Tell me when you're done.
Tony: Okay, done.
Me: Okay, now click in the box that says password.
Tony: Okay.
Me: Now type lowercase a-b-r-o-s and the numbers 1,2, and 3. All one word.
Tony: Okay.
Me: Now click OK.
Tony: ...
Me: Anything happen, Tony?
Tony: ...
Me: Tony? Anything happening?
Tony: Yeah. It's not locked up anymore.
Me: Well, good.
Tony: Thanks, my friend!
Me: Any time, Tony.
Tony: *click*
Me: Dumbass...

After I wrapped up the call and entered the ticket in excrutiating detail so that Tony's retardation would be a matter of public record, I figured the matter was closed. But the next day, I picked up another call from the same store. It was Tony again.

Me: Hey there, Tony. What's the problem?
Tony: Yeah. My computer's been locked up since yesterday. I've been calling but nobody will help me.
Me: I talked to you yesterday, Tony. Remember? Walked you through logging in?
Tony: Oh, yeah. Um, how do I do that again?

Some nights I still wake up screaming...

Fuzzy Memories and Drug-Induced Flashbacks - Part IX

Note: For those of you who are writing my goddamn life story, this incident takes place just before Ms. McCollaugh flashed her nipple to the entire Fifth Grade Class, firmly setting me on the path to heterosexuality.

It was February 1978, and I was in the fifth grade. Carter was president, Star Wars was a hot property, and people were listening to the Bee Gees without a trace of irony. It had been six weeks since we'd all got back from Christmas vacation, which meant just one thing... REPORT CARD DAY!

This was back in the day when computers were roughly the size of Guam, so our report cards were decidely low tech. They were blue sheets of cardboard preprinted with a list of subjects. Our teachers would go through and lovingly hand-letter our grades with ballpoint pen every six weeks. Grades ranged from A+ to F and, as one of those insufferably smart kids that got beat up a lot, my report card was usually chock-full of As and Bs.

However, I knew it was going to be different this time. I'd totally bombed a quiz on the state capitals, "forgotten" to prepare for an oral presentation on the Iroquois, and neglected to turn in several assignments. I'd known for the past two weeks that this wasn't going to be one of my better report cards. When Mr. Price placed it on my desk in its manilla sleeve, my hands were trembling. I slipped it out, opened it up, and saw my worst fears confirmed. Social Studies: C.

Mr. Price reminded us that we needed to get a parent's signature on the report card and turn it back in next week. And as I stared at that cursed C, just blatantly sitting there amongst the respectable grades and mocking my childlike faith in God, my mind raced desperately to find some way out of this predicament. I considered losing my report card in the sewer, or forging my stepdad's signature on it, or faking a coma... In the end, I did what I think any self-respecting kid in my position would do. I panicked. I ran home, found a black felt tip pen, and valiantly attempted to change that C into a B.

My forgery was pretty pathetic, but that didn't matter because I was committed now. When my mom got home from work, I showed her the report card. The first thing she said was, "What's this one grade? It looks like a C that was changed into a B." Total panic, but I didn't let it show. Somehow I kept my composure and just flat out lied to her face. "Oh, yeah. That was a mistake. Mr. Price changed it." To my surprise, she just nodded and signed the report card. I couldn't believe I'd gotten away with it!

My elation lasted all of two minutes when I suddenly remembered that I still had to turn the report card back in to Mr. Price. He would open it up, see the changed grade, and I'd be busted. I felt another attack of panic as I saw my entire retarded plan coming unraveled. So once again, I did what any self-respecting kid in my position would do. I stalled. I took the report card and shoved it into my top dresser drawer.

Over the next few weeks, Mr. Price kept asking me where my report card was, and I kept telling him that I'd forgotten it. I had no idea how long I'd be able to keep up the pretense, but I had no other plan on deck. I just kept hoping *something* miraculous would happen, to get me out of this mess.

I was miserable, at school and at home. Wracked with guilt, nervous every time the phone rang, terrifed every time my mom or stepdad would call my name. There were times when I wanted to confess, just to end the entire ordeal. In fact, one Saturday evening, when my parents were back in their bedroom watching TV, I decided the time had come to own up and face the music. I walked back there, and listened for a few seconds to the TV blaring from the other side of the closed door. Finally, I steeled myself and knocked gently. They didn't hear me. I lost my nerve and didn't knock again.

After three miserable, gut-wrenching weeks, the horrible incident finally came to an end. I came home from school, and my mom was standing there, holding my report card. "What's this?" she asked me. "I thought you took this back to school weeks ago." By this point, I had given up the idea of confessing. Instead, I was going to ride this thing out to its defiant end. As nonchalantly as I could, I said, "Oh, yeah! Good! I've been looking for that! Where did you find it?"

I slept fitfully that night, knowing there was no way out of it now. The next morning, I went to school and, on trembling legs, made my way to Mr. Price's desk. Still defiant and determined to go down fighting, I handed him the report card and said, "Mr. Price? My mom was wondering about one of those grades. She said it looked like it had been changed."

Mr. Price slid the card out of its sleeve, opened it up, and studied it for a second. Then he said, "No, that's right. It was supposed to be a B."

To this day, I still don't believe that. There's no way that grade was *ever* supposed to be a B. I know this sounds crazy but, somehow, I used the goddamned Jedi mind trick on him!

Waxing Memetic

I really wasn't in the mood to direct any more Photoshopped hate at Hannity & The Tiny Pair of Legs Dangling From His Backside, so I lifted this little questionnaire thingy from my newest, bestest friend Professor's blog (Babble from Babbler). Read on, and immerse yourself in the experience that is Chris Irby.

1. Song that always makes you sad?
"Everybody Hurts," by R.E.M. If you can listen to that song and not get misty, then I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING YOUR MUSIC IN HELL, MR. HITLER!

2. Last thing you bought?
A medium Coke at the Angelika. Oh, I could have gotten the large for just a quarter more, but who needs a drink with a goddamn undertow?

3. Last person you argued with?
The girl at the Angelika snack counter. She REALLY wanted me to buy that big ass Coke! Apparently, she works on commission or something...

4. Do you put butter before putting the peanut butter on?
What kind of sick freak butters a peanut butter sandwich? Seriously!

5. One of your stuffed animals’ names as a kid?
I had a teddy bear named Gretsch, named after my dad's guitar.

6. Did you ever at one time own a Barenaked Ladies CD?
I have their greatest hits on CD, although the only song I ever listen to anymore is Be My Yoko Ono.

7. Favorite day of the week?
I'm all about Saturday, baby!

8. Favorite sundae topping?
I'm not exactly discriminating when it comes to sundae toppings. In fact, when beset by choice, I tend to glop every damn available topping onto my ice cream. Hot fudge, marshmallow, cherries, nuts, whipped cream, kelp, olives, gravy. Disgusting, I know. But at least I'm not one of those goddamn freaks who butters their PB&J!

9. Did you take piano lessons?
Yes, when I was in the 7th grade. Sadly, my piano-playing abilities have since vanished. I think it's from that time I jammed a Q-tip too far into my ear and actually hit brain...

10. Most frequent song played?
Right now, it's Hatred (A Duet) by The Kinks. Suprisingly therapeutic for the recently broken-up!

11. T.V. show you secretly enjoy?
The Soup on E! Also, there's this really weird late-night infomercial where a woman in a blue business suit and panty hose is lying on a bed and squeezing a foam pillow between her thighs. I'm not 100% sure what it's about, but it's like they looked into my mind!

12. Would you rather play basketball or hockey?
I could get behind a rousing game of donkey basketball...

13. Date someone older or younger?
It really doesn't matter, just so long as I'm not robbing the cradle. Or the Posturepedic...

14. One place you could travel right now?
Vegas, baby!

15. Do you use umbrellas?
I think I got one for graduation back in 1985, but I can't remember actually ever using it...

16. Do you know all the words to the Canadian national anthem?
Doesn't it just repeat "O Canada" over and over again? And then there's something about syrup.

17. Favorite cheese?
In my 40 years on this planet, I have yet to develop any particularly strong cheese affiliations. I guess cheddar, by default.

18. The Smith’s or The Cure?
Love and Rockets, baby!

19. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?
I was equally torn between Farrah Fawcett and Lynda Carter as a child...

20. Best job you ever had?
Probably the one I have right now, writing copy for the City Guide at a major yellow pages website. There's minimal pressure, the pay is great, the hours are cool, and I'm working with Sean, my best friend since preschool. Just the idea that I'm getting paid to write is somehow gratifying...

21. Did you go to your high school prom?
Hell, yeah! I even took the Homecoming Queen! Goddamn, I was cool!

22. Perfect time to wake up?
My body usually snaps awake around 7:00 or so, just in time for Spongebob...

23. Perfect time to go to bed?
Late! When I was doing the two-year sabbatical thing, I used to write through the night until 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. Now that I'm gainfully employed, I'm forced to keep respectable "grown-up" hours. But I still have trouble winding down before midnight.

24. Do you use your queen right away in chess?
I usually lose my queen 3 or 4 moves in to that stupid horsey guy. I really hate chess...

25. Ever been in a car accident?
Several, but most of them weren't my fault! You can read all about my last one here...

26. Closer to mom or dad…or neither?
My mom and dad divorced when I was 3, and mom got custody of me and my sister. She raised us practically single-handedly, working long hours to keep us fed and happy. I've always been able to count on her, sometimes to the point that I take her for granted. My dad (who died in 1997, God rest him), was always a bit of a flake, and wavered back and forth between showering me and my sister with affection and ignoring us for months at a time. I loved him dearly, but I never made the mistake of depending on him for anything.

27. What age is this exciting life over for you?
On June 14, 2037, I'm going to throw myself in front of a space bus. WHAT KIND OF SICK FUCKING QUESTION IS THAT?

28. What decade during the 20th century would you have chosen to be a teenager?
Probably the 1920s so I could say "Twenty-three skidoo!" and not be ironic.

29. Favorite shoes you have EVER owned?
I don't usually splurge on shoes, but back in 1987 I spent $90 on a pair of blue paisley Zodiacs which were easily the coolest shoes I ever owned. They were RAD!

30. Do you have an article of clothing you have had since you were in high school?
I may still have one or two skinny ties in the back of the closet somewhere...

31. Were you in track and field?
No. I was in marching band and on the yearbook staff. A total nerd. But did I mention that I TOOK THE GODDAMN HOMECOMING QUEEN TO PROM?

32. Were you ever in a school talent show?
No, but I was on the writing committee for the high school talent show. Our job was to come up with the emcee's witty introduction of the acts. My two contributions were for a magician who made billiard balls disappear ("He'll amaze you with his balls!") and a girl who clog danced ("She'll clog her way into your heart!").

33. Have you ever written in a library book?
Yes. During the 1970s and 80s, I travelled from small town to small town and wrote "SUCK IT, ANDREW CARNEGIE" in several thousand books. Smug philanthropist bastard!

34. Allergic to?
Nothing in particular.

35. Favorite fruit?
Craig Ferguson. BADA BING! GOOD NIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

36. Have you watched Sex and the City?
Yes, but it wasn't my choice. I wanted to watch Oz, another HBO series in which anal sex is prominently featured...

37. Baseball hat or toque?
Baseball hat (check the picture!). I would wear a toque, but apparently they won't let you unless you know the words to the Candian National Anthem.

38. Do you shampoo or soap up first in the shower?
Shampoo.

39. Wet the toothbrush or brush dry with the toothpaste?
Once you start brushing dry, it's a slippery slope to buttering your PB&J.

40. Pen or pencil?
Pen, when I have to. My handwriting is abominable and, in fact, resembles something written by Katharine Hepburn after someone filled her full of black coffee and wedged a crayon between her toes. So I tend to type everything when possible.

41. Have you ever gambled at a casino?
Vegas, baby!

42. Have you thrown up on a plane?
Nope.

43. Have you thrown up in a car?
Probably.

44. Have you thrown up at work?
Yes.

45. Do you scream on roller coasters?
In the manliest way imaginable.

46. How many shoes do you have?
I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure it's an even number.

47. Who was your first roommate?
"Sigma Chi pledge Bobby Muzeka."

48. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk for the first time?
I believe that would be the Night Train, which could very well be the finest $1.99 bottle of fortified apple wine available on the market. The trick is to get it down your throat without actually letting it touch your tongue. And when they warn you on the label to serve it cold, YOU'D DAMN WELL BETTER LISTEN!

49. What was your first job?
I sold auto parts at Leaman's "Discount" Automotive when I was a sophomore in high school. It was there that I met Rick Leaman, an incorrigible smartass who taught me the fine art of sarcasm and dry wit. The man was a caustic genius!

50. What was your first car?
A 1969 yellow Chevy pickup.

51. When did you go to your first funeral?
My great grandfather passed away when I was in the 5th grade.

52. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?
I was 3 when we moved to Dallas from Mount Vernon.

53. Who was your first grade teacher?
Lord, I don't remember. Mrs. MacFarland, or something like that. She was an older woman with a huge, white beehive.

54. Where did you go on your first airplane ride?
When I was 6 years old, my mom took me and my sister on a weekend trip to Houston. We got to see the Astros play at the Astrodome, and we visited Astroworld, and did about a million other goddamn things that had the word "Astro" in them, but the plane ride was by far the coolest part! (I remember looking down at all of the fields from way up high and thinking that they were all individual states.)

55. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
I never snuck out. I was one of those sullen kids who locked himself in his room all the time. But I got better...

56. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them?
That would be Sean, whom I met at La Petite Academy when we were 5 years old. And yes, he is still my oldest and dearest friend to this day.

57. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents’ house?
Weymouth Dormitory at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas. With "Sigma Chi pledge Bobby Museka."

58. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?
Nobody now :-(

59. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen?
I was the best man in my mom's second wedding (I was 9 years old, I think). That was when she married J.R., a man who made it his life's mission to protect me from my own potential gayness...

60. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Turn on the TV and watch Spongebob.

61. What was the first concert you attended?
I think it was Charlie Daniels Band, when I was in the 10th grade. "Devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal..."

62. First tattoo or piercing?
I got my left ear pierced in 1989 when I pledged Sigma Tau Gamma. I eventually quit the fraternity, but I still have the hole in my ear.

63. First celebrity crush?
Let's just say I spent an awful lot of time holding up that Farrah Fawcett poster with one hand...

We Retort, You Deride - Part II

Which Came First, the Chicken Hawk or the Egghead?

So apparently Rush Limbaugh put his cloven hoof in his mouth last month and referred to military personnel who are opposed to the war in Iraq as "phony soldiers." Since his incredibly retarded faux pas, Rush has been scrambling to cover his ass. He claimed that he was the target of a smear campaign being run by Media Matters. As evidence, he offered up a heavily edited transcript of the broadcast in question, in which he cut out over a minute and a half of the conversation and changed the offending phrase to "phony soldier" so he could claim he was specifically referring to Jesse MacBeth.

Anyone with more than a quarter of a brain could see through Rush's pathetic revisionist attempts. So of course, Limbaugh's rabid supporters are all foaming at the mouth about the vast liberal conspiracy and how the Democrats have mounted a massive Machiavellian campaign to destroy their messiah. It all sounds pretty retarded, but you have to remember that these are the same people who believe that Bill and Hillary masterminded the murders of over a hundred people, or that Adam and Eve rode dinosaurs to church.

Joining this brain trust in their kneejerk defense of Rush Limbaugh, martyr, is Representative Eric Cantor from Virgina. Cantor feels that the poor, oppressed conservatives have suffered for far too long at the hands of the oppressive Democrat regime, and is calling for them to unite and stand with Rush against the liberal attacks. He's got a petition and everything. Way to fight the man, Eric! Rush Limbaugh could be just the drug-abusing, draft-dodging college dropout you need to pull the conservatives together and make the klavern mighty once again!

(Interesting fact: Despite the raging hard-on Limbaugh has for putting our soldiers in harm's way, he managed to avoid military duty in Vietnam because he had a pimple on his ass. Of course, when you're talking about an ass that big, that was probably one hell of a pimple. But still...)

One of the outspoken Democrats insisting on an apology from Limbaugh was John Kerry, whom you may remember orchestrated an intricate scheme involving hundreds of soldiers in Vietnam to defraud the U.S. military out of a Purple Heart. Oh, those cagey liberals!

Anyway, Kerry called Limbaugh a "cheerleader for the Chicken Hawk wing of the far right" and said he was "an embarrassment to his Party." Of course, Kerry made his own blunder back in 2005, when he stated that there was no reason "that young American soldiers need to be going into the homes of Iraqis in the dead of night, terrorizing kids and children." Ironically, it was Rush Limbaugh who feigned outrage and accused Kerry of calling the U.S. soldiers terrorists. Kerry, in his usual rambling, long-winded way, attempted to explain that he *hadn't* said that, but Rush has never been one to let the facts get in the way of a good story. Somehow, he parlayed Kerry's moment of ill-advised dumbassery into a massive rant about how liberals love tyranny and hate freedom and that's the real reason why they oppose Bush and Jesus.

Now, I understand a vast part of politics is pretending to be outraged over things your opponents say so you can claim the moral high ground. And I'll be the first to admit that the attack Kerry is leading is more about political opportunity than actual indignation. But it's not a vast liberal conspiracy like the ones that dominate Limbaugh's fantasies. (Actually, I suspect most of Limbaugh's fantasies involve wearing a panda suit and getting spanked by Ann Coulter, but I digress...)

So yeah, Kerry's a total opportunist here. Once you strip away all the posturing and overblown responses, you're left with the fact that Rush Limbaugh made an ill-advised, off-the-cuff remark. Lord knows when you spend three hours a day talking out of your ass, you're going to say some stupid things. If this were an isolated incident, Rush could simply admit that he misspoke and things would eventually settle down. Unfortunately, Herr Limbaugh has spent the last decade propping up his retarded world views by attacking the patriotism of many decorated veterans just because they disagreed with him. So now that he had dug himself into this hole, the Democrats aren't going to let him out of it without an apology.

But things are never that simple, are they? The Republicans claim that this whole chain of events was set into motion when MoveOn.org took out a full page ad in the New York Times accusing General David H. Petraeus of "cooking the books for the White House" and referring to him as "General Betray Us." Outraged that the Democrats would so flagrantly attack a decorated military hero, Republican Senator John Cornyn drafted an amendment to "strongly condemn personal attacks on the honor and integrity of General Petraeus." The amendment passed. Democratic Senator Barbara Boxer drafted a similar amendment condemning the attack on Petreaus, as well as the Republican attacks on Max Cleland in 2002 and John Kerry in 2004. Oddly enough, that one didn't get enough votes to pass.

So now, the Republicans are demanding an apology from the Democrats for the attack on General Petraeus. The Democrats are claiming they weren't behind the ad and, besides, they've already publicly condemned it. Meanwhile, the Democrats are demanding an apology from the Republicans for Rush's gaffe, and the Republicans are claiming it's all an elaborate smokescreen to draw attention away from the General Petraeus issue. The battle lines are drawn, and both sides are polarizing between Limbaugh and Kerry, each claiming the other side bears responsibility. It's a question of which came first, the Chicken Hawk or the Egghead?

But the Republicans have a point. To assign a nickname as hateful and disparaging as "Betray Us" to a man who has served his country faithfully in the armed forces is, in the words of Rush, "contemptible" and "indecent." It sort of makes you wonder where MoveOn.org got the idea, doesn't it?

Well last January, after Senator Chuck Hagel (a Republican Senator and decorated Vietnam veteran) sided with Democrats in a vote, Rush had this to say: "By the way, we had a caller call, couldn't stay on the air, got a new name for Senator Hagel in Nebraska. We got General Petraeus and we got Senator Betray Us, new name for Senator Hagel."

So in case you're having trouble following: The Democrats are demanding an apology for something stupid that Rush said. The Republicans are claiming that the Democrats are simply trying to draw attention away from something stupid that MoveOn.org said. Only it turns out that MoveOn.org was simply rehashing something stupid that Rush said.

Sigh. It's like the Circle Jerk of Life...

We Retort, You Deride - Part I

You can't tell me you haven't thought the same thing...