Posts Tagged ‘politics’

Fair & Balanced

It’s hard to judge whether someone is lying, or is simply wrong. I’d hate for journalists to be afraid to report on controversial issues for fear that some of the details might be incorrect.

But this is beyond ridiculous.  When accused of lying to the public, Fox News response is: “So?”

Wouldn’t you at least pretend that you were serious?

This afternoon, I wanted to give Fox some credit. While CNN was giving in-depth, frontline coverage of Michael Jackson’s estate, and MSNBC was running a 2 hour special called “Farrah’s Story,” Fox was the only news network who was covering the revolution in Iran or the Cap & Trade bill in the Senate.   Instead, I’m just upset that my news options this afternoon are accurate coverage of dead celebrities, or intentional misinformation on the issues that matter.

Mark Sanford

I was bummed to hear about Mark Sanford.  When he was “missing,” he sounded like a pretty likeable nut.  He’s a guy who values his privacy, and ditching the secret service to spend a long weekend in the woods seemed like a pretty ballsy thing to do (I liked Stephen Colbert’s line: Henry David Thoreau’ing your carrerr away).

It turns out he flew to Argentina to cheat on his wife.  Subtle.

Jon Stewart & CNBC

As a homeowner, this rant was particularly satisfying.

Obama is insanely awesome

But it would’ve been nice if his embedded video didn’t auto-play.  Here’s the video that used to be embedded in this post.

Obama’s Presidential Address

Thanks to Andy Walker for reminding me that this was on.

Continued Shameless Theft…

…this time from here. Because you people are a bunch of nerds. I know you are, so don’t bother denying it.

GM: OK, the bugbear attacks you. What do you do?

OBAMA: I send one of my 672 henchmen after it.

MCCAIN: OK, seriously. Why does he have so many henchmen? I’m a level 72 ranger and he’s only a level 8 paladin.

OBAMA: Well, if you’d bought the Grassroots Organizing and Oratory/Colgate Smile proficiencies you could min max it so that you…

MCCAIN: Why is he even IN this campaign? I thought this was supposed to be a high level party.

OBAMA: Well, maybe some people got tired of the grim and squinty “Matterhorn, son of Marathon” shtick you keep doing. Dude, could you be any less original?

MCCAIN: Oh my god, I did not leave my left nut in a tiger cage in the Tomb of Horrors to spend my Friday nights mopping up after the new kid.

OBAMA: “My friends, I am a totally unoriginal grizzled character class stereotype. I should lead the party because I have more testicular damage than that one.”

MCCAIN: Yeah, well, you pal around with dark elves.

OBAMA: OH NO YOU DIDN’T.

MCCAIN: Whatever, so’s your mom.

OBAMA: So’s your FACE.

MCCAIN: So’s your Mom’s face!

HILARY: WTF you guys. Why am I playing the cleric?

MCCAIN: Hilary, we’ve been over this.

HILARY: No, dude. I am so sick of being the girlfriend healer. Seriously, I can’t even use a sword. Fuck this noise.

KUCINICH: IM A BARD

OBAMA: That’s nice.

KUCINICH: MY FAMILIAR IS A PURPLE SNOW LEOPARD

MCCAIN: Oh, Jesus. Here we go.

KUCINICH: DID I MENTION MY WIFE IS A TOTALLY BANGIN DRYAD WITH 20 CHARISMA

HILARY: C’mon you guys, I’ve been playing this shit since Gygax was in eighth grade. Why can’t I be the party leader with the magic sword for once?

MCCAIN: Because no one wants to see you in a bronze bra.

OBAMA: Oh dude, BURRRRRNNNN.

HILARY: SCREW YOU, Grandpa. I will so kick your ass.

MCCAIN: Yeah? Bring it! I didn’t spend 3 years in the Abyss with Githzerai hooking my nads up to a car battery to get beat by some Wellesley girl.

HILARY: WHATEVER, you can’t even lift your arms over your head.

RON PAUL: I brought my Planescape character!

OBAMA: Dude, we’re playing Forgotten Realms.

RON PAUL: I rift in from Sigil! I’m a Chaotic Neutral Tiefling Barbarian/Monk/Rogue!

MCCAIN: DUDE, that is not even LEGAL.

RON PAUL: Ronpaul the Barbarian say: suck it! Guns and abortions and weed for everyone! WHEEE!

PALIN: Hi folks! Sorry I’m late! I brought caribou burgers.

HILARY: Who the HELL is this?

MCCAIN: It’s cool, she’s with me.

HILARY: No! No, it’s not cool! Every time you bring one of your rodeo-queen girlfriends in here she ends up playing some succubus infiltrator and killing the whole party!

MCCAIN: Now, that is patently untrue.

BIDEN: He has a point. Cindy turned out to be a vampire.

MCCAIN: DUDE. SHUT UP.

GM: You guys, seriously, if you don’t knock it off with the bickering I’m going to start docking XP.

MCCAIN: You know what? Fuck it. I’m suspending the campaign.

GM: You can’t do that! Only I can suspend the campaign! I didn’t suspend it for the 1988 Mountain Dew shortage and I’m not going to suspend it now.

KUCINICH: YOU GUYS I AM TOTALLY CASTING A CANTRIP

MCCAIN: Oh my god, Dennis, shut up, you don’t even count.

KUCINICH: YOU GUYS ARE DICKS

BIDEN: Where are the Cheetos?

RON PAUL: Wait. What happen to tiny Mormon Man?

GM: You find Mitt’s lifeless, drained corpse has been stuffed in the broom closet.

HILARY: Oh, God DAMMIT.

MCAIN: Not ok! NOT OK!

OBAMA: What, I didn’t even get a detect evil roll for that one?

HILARY: I TOLD you she was a succubus, but did anyone listen? Oohhhhh no, Hilary’s just jealous of the beauty queen.

RON PAUL: Pretty Lady screw Mitt lifeless. Ronpaul SMASH!!

MCCAIN: Would you please go light up a spliff and stay out of this? The grown ups are talking.

RON PAUL: Why pretty lady suck life out of Mitt and not Ronpaul? Not fair!

HILARY: I mean, never mind that I’m the one with 17 Wisdom, but does anyone listen to the girl? Noooooo.

RON PAUL: Also Mitt have stupid name. Who name kid after baseball equipment?

KUCINICH: HAY YOU GUYS CHECK OUT MY HEAD OF VECNA TRICK

HILARY: This never would have happened when Tim Russert was our GM.

GM: You know what? Forget it. Rocks fall, everyone dies.

OBAMA: Screw you guys. I’m going to go play Bunnies and Burrows at Jon Stewart’s house.

HILARY: Me too.

MCCAIN: Me too.

KUCINICH: GAZEBO!

Federal Reserve Skateboard: A short story

(Written after sitting in a car for five hours listening to financial news stories.)

——-

Damn these subprime lenders, thought Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke, barely keeping his balance on the wobbling skateboard. We can’t afford more debt. He snapped a grappling-hook-tipped quarrel into his crossbow as the skateboard slowed. When the country owes trillions and is asking for more, its shadowy creditors start calling in favors.

The crossbow twanged, carrying his climbing rope up the side of the Federal Reserve building. As he began his ascent, he reflected on the years past. I inherited a broken system, he insisted to himself. We’re simply doing what’s required to prevent a catastrophe. It’s not my fault.

He tossed his skateboard over the parapet and hauled himself over. He dropped six feet to the roof, landed heavily on the board, and trundled on into the night.

——-

From her perch in a tree across the street, the blogger watched through her blogoscope as Bernanke disappeared over the wall. She spoke quietly into her radio: “Subject is in the haybarn. The chickens are in danger of roosting.”

“Roger that,” came the reply. “Deploying Agent Harpsichord.”

——-

Inside, Bernanke moved along the wall like a shadow, elongating and contracting as the light sources shifted around him. In the midst of a sea of filing cabinets, he froze. He sniffed the air, then dropped to his knees, licked the floor, and paused. Yes, he thought, Greenspan was definitely here.

——-

The blogger had waited five minutes and was starting to get impatient. She picked up the radio. “Situation imminent. Pass the ducklings through the snorkel. Repeat: Pass the ducklings through the snorkel.”

“We are go for mode Sinatra,” replied the commander. “Reticulate core and set throttle to ‘cryptic’. Prepare to jitterbug.”

——-

Bernanke forced the door on yet another inner office, realizing too late that the light was on inside. The chair in the corner swiveled around, and Bernanke found himself face-to-face with Alan Greenspan. There was silence for a moment.

“You won’t get away with this,” said Greenspan, rising to his feet. “The Fed is subject to general congressional oversight. But you never understood that, did you?”

“Congress sold out the country, not me,” replied Bernanke. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” said Greenspan. He flicked open a switchblade.

——-

The blogger peered once more into the eyepiece of her blogoscope. She threw the switch labeled “overlay building schematics.” The external view of the building disappeared, but instead of blueprints, she was presented with a green puzzle piece. “This view requires the Adobe Flash Player plug-in. Do you want to search for this plug-in now?”

Shit, she thought.

——-

Bernanke, trying not to slip in the patches of blood on the floor, struggled with Greenspan. The older man moved like a snake that moved like a former Fed Chairman who moved like a ninja. At last, Bernanke got a solid grip on Greenspan’s collar and hurled him through the fourth wall, knocking you to the ground.

Improvising a tourniquet from the remains of the snake left over from the earlier simile, Bernanke moved on through the hallways.

——-

The moonlight-bathed roof of the Federal Reserve building fell suddenly into shadow. A pair of night watchman looked up in alarm to see what had occluded the sky.

“Is that …” one whispered to the other, “… is that a blimp?”

——-

Bernanke reached the central vaults, accessed the Gibson mainframe, and began transmitting the requested files to his distant masters. He didn’t hear the gentle thud on the rooftop, the muffled explosive charges, or the sound of the door opening behind him. But at the last minute some sixth sense kicked in. He spun around just in time to see a golf-ball-sized lump of gold rapidly expanding in his vision. It struck him in the forehead, and he collapsed to the ground like a burlap sack full of scrapple.

Congressman Ron Paul retrieved the gold nugget from the floor and returned it to his satchel. “Try that,” he said, donning his sunglasses, “with a fiat currency.” He spun on his heel, cape swirling behind him, and swept from the room.

Read more of these adventures in the thrilling new novel, Ron Paul and the Chamber of Commerce — in bookstores now!

Disclaimer:  This story is shamelessly stolen, whole cloth, from Randall Munroe of XKCD fame.

Duck Tales economic theory

Hillary Wasn’t Lying

Here’s the video of her dodging sniper & mortar fire.

Hollywood Rumble!

Gustave from Waldsee created this, it’s friggin awesome.