Duck. Duck. Noose. (deathwasonsale) wrote,
Duck. Duck. Noose.

Here we go again

New Rule: Someone must tell President Bush where his heart is. [photo shown of President Bush and Laura Bush; she has hand over her heart; he has his hand over his stomach] Great, now with the other hand, tap your head and say, "Rubber baby buggy bumper, rubber baby buggy bumper." Most people don't clutch the wrong organ, but then again, most people don't invade the wrong country.

New Rule: Americans are dumber than anyone realizes. Mike Judge's new movie, "Idiocracy," about a future America where everyone is really stupid, has been dumped by Fox because test audiences didn't get the joke. Because they were too stupid to understand a movie about stupid people! Just when you think you've hit the bottom of the stupid barrel, you find out there's another barrel right underneath it.

New Rule: When married rock stars have sex with other women, it's not cheating. Sorry, rock star wives, if you want a faithful husband, marry a guy with fewer options. That's why you don't see too many concert-goers screaming, "Monogamy, drugs and rock 'n' roll!" Hell, I've been to concerts where, during the show, the rock stars actually called out the wrong city's name! "Cleveland!"

New Rule: If you're going to give God credit for all that's right with the world, like the flowers and the trees and large, brown nipples—sorry, Pat Buchanan—then you have to admit that God is responsible for the bad stuff, too, like tsunamis and ringworm, and that bad marijuana crop in '82 that gave everyone a headache.
Now, this past week, for the fifth anniversary of 9/11, President Bush pronounced three days of prayer and mourning. Prayer for the victims, and mourning for his old approval ratings. Of course, Mr. Bush's team always does breathe easier whenever a moment of silence is required, because even President Dyslexia can't screw up a moment of silence. Except if he put his hand on his stomach - never mind.
And speaking of silence, when did bagpipes become the official instruments of mourning? These ceremonies are depressing enough without hearing all that Scottish farting in the background.
But I just don't get it. Why, when pointless horror strikes and God smacks us around, we go to church more! It's like we're Tina Turner and God is Ike!
How come, when things go well, it's "Hallelujah!" But when they go bad, it's still, "Hallelujah!"? People can endure an endless series of Job-like hardships: their house is shredded by a tornado, their car is in a tree, the family is wiped out... "But God spared my ceramic lawn deer, thank you, Jesus!"
And we put the blame on ourselves, and say that whatever cruel, random crap happened to us happened because "God works in mysterious ways...too mysterious for stupid me to understand."
Well, sorry, but I think a little more of myself and my fellow humans than that. I don't know the answers to the big cosmic questions. No one does. But I do know there's no reason for a cleft lip or a mine collapsing, or all that traffic on the 101.
Mysterious ways? You know what else works in mysterious ways? A microwave. It stays cool but the food gets hot! It's a mystery! Let's worship it. No, let's not. Let's not thank God for His mercy or blame Him when you die from eating bad spinach. On the fifth anniversary of the national day of prayer and remembrance, let's put the blame for September 11th squarely where it belongs: on our new enemy, Iran. The bombing starts three weeks before the mid-terms, God willing.

New Rule: Police cars have too many lights. The car on "Dragnet" had one light. On "Adam 12," two lights. These days, police cars have blinking lights, rotating lights, strobe lights. "Car 54, Where Are You?" "Studio 54, where are you?!" I don't know if I'm being arrested or invited to a rave! If the LAPD caught Rodney King today, they'd probably beat him with Glow Sticks.

New Rule: Jennifer Lopez has to start comparing Jessica Beil's ass to Hitler. It's clear that Jessica Beil is developing a "weapon of ass destruction"–that threatens J-Lo's ass dominance. You think you can appease this ass, J-Lo? No. It must be confronted–with force. On Pay-Per-View. We'll call it "The Junk-in-the-Trunk versus the Badonkadunk."

New Rule: It's not a freak accident when a stingray stings someone. It's called a "stingray," not a "hugray" or a "kissray." A "stingray." It's not at the bottom of the ocean thinking, "I wish an Australian with a cable show would rub on me." Swimming next to one is like hunting duck with Dick Cheney or marrying Robert Blake.

New Rule: And I never thought I'd be saying this to an accused child-molester: [photo shown of John Mark Karr] "Pull down your pants!" At least a little. You know, below the nipples. If you don't want people to think you're a delusional retard, don't dress like this guy. [photo of Martin Short as Ed Grimley shown]

And while we're on the subject, New Rule: Don't say, "Her and I were engaged in a romantic and very sexual interaction." It's "she and I." "Her"is an object; "she" is a subject. Keep making mistakes like that, Mr. Karr, and you'll never get another teaching job.

New Rule: If converting to Islam is all it takes to get the terrorists off our backs, then all I have to say is: [does screaming ululation] Now, this week, when two Fox News journalists were released by their Hamas kidnappers, I was shocked: Fox News has journalists?!
No, the shocking part of it was that all these westerners had to do to get the blade literally off their neck was say they were Muslims. Just recite a two-line pledge, just say the words, "There is no God but Allah, Muhammad is his messenger,"and - oh, whoops. There, I did it. I'm now Bill Al-Sheikh-Yer-Booty. Welcome to Saudi America.
Now I know what you're thinking: Bill, if we convert to Islam, doesn't that mean the terrorists have won? Well, sort of, but it's a win-win. Because they get to declare victory, and we get to take hair gel on the plane! Plus, we're not really converting to Islam. We're just telling our enemies what they want to hear, and trying to convince them we're something we're really not. Or as Hillary Clinton calls it: campaigning.
And it's so simple to convert this way. You know, if you want to convert to Judaism, it's a huge hassle. You've got to find a rabbi, study the Torah, get circumcised, go to dental school. But Muhammad made joining his team easy: two-line pledge, you're in. Which would you go for? The two-line pledge or lopping off the business end of your meat thermometer?
And the best part is that nothing that really matters to you will be different. It's not like we're asking you to change your email address. We'd be Muslims in name only, instead of what Americans are now: Christians in name only.
I mean, look around. We don't care for the poor or defer to the meek, or avoid judging people. It's not like we're that committed to Christianity. In fact, the other day, I heard a nun say, "Sure, I love Jesus, but I'm not married to him."
I know my plan will meet some resistance. But it shouldn't come from the right, because converting to Islam will just give conservative Christians more of everything they love. Pray five times a day? Where do I sign up? You mean we can stone homosexuals instead of just bitching about them on talk radio? Thank you, Jesus! I mean, Allah.
We're a nation in thrall to religious fanatics anyway. Does it really matter which fanatics we're in thrall to? They're both full of moral pieties and codes of conduct nobody follows anyway. So let's pick the one that lets us take HAIR GEL ON THE PLANE!
Because, no matter what happens, we'll always be Americans. Nothing can ever change that. Because even if women here had to start wearing burkhas, believe me, they would find a way to write the word "Juicy" on their ass.

New Rule: For the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, President Bush must order the Air Force to drop leaflets on New Orleans warning them that it's hurricane season again and he's still president. You know, here's how you can tell when a city isn't ready for the casinos to come back: when the floating craps game involves actual floating crap. It's okay if you're not sure.

New Rule: Confessed child murderers have to fly coach. Of all the people who ever deserved to spend 14 hours listening to a crying baby and having his seat kicked- -number one has got to be that guy. [slide of John Mark Karr]

New Rule: Now that an international panel of "scientists" has decided to "cut-and-run" on the planet Pluto, I say it's time for the United States to sever its ties with science altogether and withdraw from the solar system! Hey, it worked for Kyoto and the Geneva Convention! Sorry, Poindexters, but this is God's country, and as long as George Bush is president, the science is still out on science.
Now, I know many of my Republican friends got very excited when all this talk started recently about adding three new planets to our solar system because what could be better in all of life than having three new things to name after Reagan? But then they realized what was really going on. Activist scientists were trying to get away with a little election year redistricting of the universe. Adding new planets when we should be enforcing the planets we already have.
Goddamn it, why hasn't someone introduced the Defense of Planet Act? To protect the sanctity of planet-hood by defining it solely as the relationship between the Sun and Uranus. Good to give a laugh to a vet, even a cheap laugh like that.
I mean, Pluto is out, Pluto is in. You let planets swing both ways like that, next thing you know, people are marrying their pets. Not to mention that adding more planets would drastically reduce our chances of winning Miss Universe.
Now, we have tried to get along with the rest of the stars and the planets and the scientific principals of observation. But, you know, there comes a time when you have to say, "Enough is enough! I want faith. I want certainty. I want Santa Claus." "And the Star Wars Missile Shield, and tax cuts and wars that pay for themselves." "I want our kids to learn that the stars in the sky are really bedazzle beads on the Virgin Mary's sweatshirt." "I want Terri Schiavo to wake up back in Kansas with her little dog, Toto, and a bedroom full of overly familiar farmhands."
I guess what I'm saying is, "You're either with us or with the scientists." The most important American rite is the freedom to never have to learn anything. "Too Much Information" isn't just a clichéd way to say, "Shut up," it was actually Bush's campaign slogan.
So whenever someone tells you we evolved from apes, or the earth is getting warmer, or they've used something called a "telescope" to learn more about Heaven, just tell them, "TMI, Brainiac!" "Go back to France, or even worse, the Democrat Party." Because this is America, and there's only one question that needs to be answered here: "Are you ready for some football?!"
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