Monday, May 28, 2007


-It's getting awful "spidery" outside mi casa. Now, I might say that I "hate" something like "American Idol" or willfully ignorant people, but I'm often engaging in mild hyperbole. I have a very strong dislike for these things (and many others) but I hate, hate, fucking hate spiders. And they're everywhere. I've gotta walk through at least five spider webs just to get to my car, and it's getting old fast.

-I've been jamming Europe's
Final Countdown. "Arrested Development" junkies will recognize it as Gob Bluth's perpetual magic theme. That keyboard gets stuck in my head about, oh, eight or nine times a day.

-I think my right knee is royally fucked.

You know when you take a bad step and, for a brief moment, your knee hyper-extends? It's been happening to me more and more frequently. At first it was just annoying; now it's kind of frightening.

I was in the bookstore yesterday and crouched down to snatch a book from the lower shelf.

When I stood up, my right knee just buckled and I crumpled to the ground. And it hurt. It hurt a Hell of a lot more than it usually does.

A lady down the aisle came over to help me but it hurt so damn bad I had to wait a minute to test it. I couldn't put my weight on that leg, so the lady and a bookstore employee helped me over to a chair where I waited five minutes or so before testing the leg again.

The bookstore guy said that they had had other medical issues in the store before. An old guy had a stroke, a pregnant woman thought she was going into labor, and a little girl, running through the store, tripped and cracked her head open on a bookcase.

I asked him, "You ever had a 80-year-old man trapped in a 26-year-old's body fall just because he stood up?" He admitted that they hadn't. Hooray! I'm a precedent!

Eventually, the pain subsided and I managed to limp away. It's still tender and I'm still a bit limpy, but it's feeling much better today than when I went to sleep.

It's just weird. I've never injured either of my knees and I've never had problems until this past month. One day, everything's aces. The next day, I need a friggin' cane just to get out of bed.

Before I do anything drastic and buy a Life Alert ("Help I'm in a prone position on the ground and I'm unable to stand!"), I'd rather do something practical. Like have a bionic knee installed. So, if anyone knows any mad scientists willing to curtail world domination long enough to make me a cyborg, I'd be greatly appreciative.


The Creation Science Museum Carnival debuts over at Pharyngula. Tons of good articles, most of them genuinely informative and a few, well, more my style of information.

Also, nearly missed the last
Skeptic's Circle, at the always brilliant and sexy Skepchick.

Thursday, May 24, 2007


Our Evil Invertebrate Overlord, PZ Myers, has beseeched us to comment on the impending disaster that is the Creation Museum.

I have done him one better...

Using my nefarious powers, I have sent one of my loyal demon scouts to procure a copy of the Creation Museum’s official itinerary for the opening day festivities. Some of the events seem quite interesting...


7:00 - 8:00 AM

"Prayer Breakfast and Fellowship"

Special message and prayer by Dr. Ken Ham* followed by a Biblically prescribed breakfast of mostly unleavened bread.

9:00 AM - 3:00 PM

"Guided Tours of the Creation Museum: Presented by the Bible!"

While Biblical characters such as Joseph, Abel, and Moses lead patrons around the Creation Museum, other Biblical characters will be spread throughout for added authenticity.

Be Abraham! Prove your love for the Lord by sacrificing your son! Will God give him a reprieve? Test your faith and find out!

Be Jonah! Walk around in a real-live whale!**

Be Jesus! Heal a leper and raise Lazarus from the dead!

Be John! Step into our "Prophecy Box" and see what it’s like to receive divine inspiration from the Lord!

During guided tours, there will be presentations by leading scientists and researchers in the field of Creation Science*** as well as other distinguished guests!

9:00 - 11:00 AM

"The Politics of Faith"

Thomas H. Hunter, a former Moral Majority lawyer, speech-writer for Pat Robertson’s presidential campaign, and Nixon biographer will discuss how we must change the course of our once-glorious Christian nation through our faith. Using the Word of the Lord and the Christian Political Philosophy of Ralph Reed, he will offer Godly tips on how to influence a heathen democracy through force.

Mr. Hunter will also answer the question, "Why Do Liberals Love Terrorists and Abortions?"

11:00 AM - 12:00 PM

"The Right Reverend Zepheniah T. Gauldin’s Old Time Hellfire and Brimstone Hour of Godly Power"

Rev. Gauldin, pastor and founder of the Lord Jesus of Nazareth Church in Willow Gorge, West Virginia, will take us "back to the mountain hollers" with his blend of fiery oration, encyclopedic Biblical knowledge, and over sixty years experience in battling Satan and his unholy minions.

Not for the faint of heart, but perfect for those strong in the spirit! Bring the kids for a lesson in what real faith looks like!

12:00 - 1:00 PM

Bag lunches served.

1:00 - 2:00 PM

"The Magic of the Bible"

Christian magicians Ben and Miller perform various illusions (based on Biblical miracles) using human trickery then explain, using Biblical proofs, how the miracles of the Lord were REAL!

2:00 - 3:00 PM

"Live From Solitary with Dr. Ken Hovind*"

Dr. Dino* himself, via satellite, will present his revolutionary ("not evolutionary") new witnessing methods, learned in the "real world" and honed in "the yard." He will talk about keeping your faith while in lockdown and explain how "Screws are the Devil."

3:00 - 4:00 PM

"Why Are There Still Monkeys?"

Dr. Herman Marshall*, an accounting professor at Mooreville Community College in Kansas who has a doctorate from Liberty University and was one of the leading voices in the fight to introduce intelligent design curriculum into public schools, will present compelling evidence against the theory of evolution and for a literal, Biblical creation by elaborating on his central theme.

5:00 - 6:00 PM

"Keeping Dinosaurs as Pets"

Kurt Kayley, Christian Comedian, will present his Joshua Award winning one-Christian-man-show, billed as being "informative for adults, kids, and women alike." Using Biblical proofs, Kurt will demonstrate how our ancestors not only lived with the dinosaurs but had good, clean, Christian fun with them!

6:00 - 7:00 PM

"Executive Dinner"

Dine on sacrificial lamb and rub elbows with some of our Museum’s executives, benefactors, and Christian friends. Dr. Ham* will discuss the Museum’s purpose and commemorate the opening day with a ceremonial faith healing.

The Dinner Prayer will be read by an audio-animatronic Velociraptor.

7:00 - 8:00 PM

"The Roarke Family Band"

Hailing from here in Kentucky, the Roarke Family Band presents an evening of gospel standards and contemporary Christian music with a healthy dose of family-friendly fun.

No dancing allowed!

8:00 - 9:00 PM

"30 Pieces and a Fireworks Extravaganza!"

The Christian Theater group "30 Pieces" will perform the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ live in front of the Museum.

(Remember, when asked, you must pardon Barabbas.)

As our Lord Jesus is crucified, the fireworks will go off and we will reflect on the painful, terrifying, and totally necessary sacrifice He made in the name of our Loving and Just God, so that our horrible, despicable, and sinful (but righteous) natures shall be negated!


*All doctors listed are not really doctors.
**The whale is dead.
***Creation science is not really science.

Friday, May 18, 2007


In the beginning, there was only a dark void and nothingness. Plus, God was having a really kooky dream involving an underwater shootout with anthropomorphic trigger fish.

And God did awaken and realized he had slept in until noon. And God had his "morning constitutional," checked his e-mail, and ran to the store for some smokes. And at the store, God did find buy-one-get-one-free Parliament Lights. And, lo, God did also purchase a Yoo-Hoo. And sixty minutes passed, the first hour.

And God did return to his abode to read webcomics, drink Yoo-Hoo, and eat pretzels. And God discovered a new comic, one he had never read, and called it
"Nobody Scores!" And God saw that it was good. And sixty minutes passed, the second hour.

And God began to smell sort of ripe. Thus, God did take a hot shower and tested the acoustic value of the bathroom by singing Elton John’s "I’m Still Standing" very loudly. Then God did take bread outside and fed some geese. Then a goose began to bum-rush God and squawk at him, and God did run away giggling. And sixty minutes passed, the third hour.

And God received a phone call from a friend whom he didn’t particularly want to hang out with, and God did say, "I’m busy all day, give me a call tomorrow" and hoped the friend would fall for it. And it was so, for the friend did say, "OK." And God called the people he had originally wanted to go out with and made plans. Then, God left the house and he did sit in traffic for nearly half an hour. And it was not good. And sixty minutes passed, the fourth hour.

And God entered Best Buy and purchased the Gojira album "From Sirius to Mars." God also debated buying the first volume of "F Troop" (because Cpl. Agarn doth please God) but decided not to. God listened to Gojira, and found that it did rock. And God did brave more traffic, but with the guitar line of "Global Warming" keeping him company, it was good. And a little less than sixty minutes passed, the vague fifth hour.

And God did enter into the land of Chili’s and found his friends. And God ate margarita chicken and drank three whiskey sours. And it was good. And God and his friends did talk about how the length of a mullet is inversely proportionate to the intelligence of the mullet’s owner, how the American political system is, at present, like the Mafia with a few extra billion to throw around, and the fact that Terry Pratchett is a goddamn genius. And God did also decree that it was not weird for him to say "goddamn." And sixty minutes and change passed, the sixth hour or so.

And God stopped at the store and bought a deuce-deuce of Natty Ice (to cap off his buzz) and another Yoo-Hoo (for just before bedtime). And God did return home and vowed to bang out ten pages on a story he’d been working on. And it was so. And it was good. But, of course, God was biased. And God did decide to watch MST3K on DVD for the rest of the night. And sixty minutes passed, the seventh hour.

And God watched MST3K, and verily did he laugh at the antics of Crow, Tom Servo, Gypsy, and Cambot. And God did end the "Joel Vs. Mike" debate by saying "Hey, I think both of ‘em are funny." And God drank his Yoo-Hoo, donned his footie-pajamas, went to sleep, and dreamed he was a little blue dog. And the day was good.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007


I haven't seen "Hot Fuzz" yet but I love, love, love "Shaun of the Dead." As a fan of both Romero zombie movies (especially "Dawn") and fast-paced British comedy, "Shaun" had a perfect mix of pop-culture references, original humor, and some surprisingly poignant scenes.

If you thought that "Shaun" was the pinnacle of the Simon Pegg/Nick Frost/Edgar Wright connection, though, you are gravely mistaken.

"Spaced," which premiered on England's Channel 4 in '99, was written by and stars Pegg and Jessica Stevenson as Tim and Daisy, a pair of recent acquaintances who must pose as a "professional couple" to rent an affordable and comfortable flat. After they get the flat, they have numerous amusing adventures and incidents with the alcoholic landlady, Marsha, the moody artist, Brian, Daisy's flightly friend, Twist, Tim's military-obsessed mate, Mike, and Colin, the dog.

The cast is brilliant (especially Stevenson's adorable and hilarious "Daisy" and Mark Heap's twitchy, unpredictable "Brian"), the writing is impeccable, and Wright (also the director of "Shaun" and "Hot Fuzz") works his camera more than any other TV show ever filmed.

There are only two seasons (with only seven episodes each) and every episode is so far beyond an American comedy show that it's, frankly, sort of embarrassing.

Every episode is available on DVD (I've already ordered mine) but, if you want to sample the goods, they're available on YouTube as well.

Here is the first episode, for your viewing pleasure. I can't offer enough praise. "Spaced" is, simply, one of the funniest and most amazing shows that you'll ever see.


-And so it came to pass that Jerry Falwell finally got to be proven wrong. Now, let's see which politicians and "journalists" can think up the most unwarranted effusive praise for a man who lived his life as a bigot, racist, misogynist, and enemy of the Constitution. Normally, I try to say something nice about anyone who dies but, in this case, I can't think of a single thing.

-Had a long overdue cross-car duet with a cute brunette in a red Jeep. I was jamming Cheap Trick's "Surrender" at a stop light and hear, faintly, someone else singing along to my left. I look over and chick is belting it out, so I started singing just as loud; she had a pretty solid voice, so we had some nice harmony going. Unfortunately, we only got through the first chorus before the light changed, she went left, and I went straight. I love spontaneous connections with complete strangers...

-Totally forgot about how awesome the video for Pearl Jam's
"Do the Evolution" really is. The part where the woman is dancing (with the strobe effect) is creepy-cool.

Monday, May 14, 2007


I was never much on the nuances of business and industry. The Money or Business sections of the paper are the only ones I automatically skip and I involuntarily snarl every time the news goes into a stock report.

It’s just not my thing. And it’s the same reason I never bothered to learn about physics; too many numbers involved and, if there’s one thing in this world I can’t deal with, it’s numbers. When I was in ninth grade, I just barely passed pre-algebra. Now, I have to seriously think about it just to remember my multiplication tables. And, for the love of all that some people consider holy, don’t ask me to keep score in a game of Spades.

Yet, I find myself compelled to watch Jim Cramer on "Mad Money." It might be because I’ve always liked watching train wrecks but, often, it’s not prudent to laugh; watching "Mad Money" gives me the best of both worlds.

I mean, yeah, Cramer’s a raving lunatic (we can easily recognize our own) and possibly a danger to himself and others, but something about him got me thinking...

"What if he didn’t do a show about money and investments and business? What if he was still that batshit crazy and did a show about something I got equally excited over, like music?"

Hmm... What if...

OPEN ON: Cramer’s studio.

Cramer walks into the shot wearing a white polyester Vegas-Elvis jumpsuit, a pompadour, and giant sunglasses. He still keeps his Cramer persona and is yelling the second he enters the shot.

As usual, Cramer stalks around the studio and the camera follows what he’s doing.

Holy monkeys, people! Have we got a show for you! Welcome to Mad Music, I’m Jim "the Axeman" Cramer...

Cramer hits one of his many buttons and a Van Halen riff plays briefly.

Welcome, welcome, and rock on, America, World, Universe, anybody, everybody, I don’t care. I love you all because I’ve been up three days straight on mushrooms. I haven’t eaten, and the only thing I’ve had to drink is cough syrup, so let the show begin!

Cramer hits another button and we hear David St. Hubbins yelling "Rock and roll!"

Rock and roll indeed, my precious children. We’re gonna jump right in with some things that have been weighing on my mind as of late, weighing heavily. Number one is old news, but Bob Dylan shilling for Victoria Secret? That’s just weird, people, and I don’t really understand it, I mean, I can understand why he would specifically shill for Victoria Secret because, you know, if anyone has a chance with the most beautiful women in the world, it’s someone old enough to be their grandpa who looks old enough to be their great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandpa. That’s the world we live in evidently. Why is that?

Cramer hits a button and plays the first bit of lyrics from Desmond Dekker’s "Beautiful and Dangerous;" we hear, "Why, oh why, oh why, oh why, tell me why!"

I don’t know, Desmond Dekker, that’s why I asked you! Moving on to bigger and better things, isn’t Steely Dan awesome? I mean, don’t they just kick superfluous amounts of ass? I’m telling you man, all you needed to do to get laid in the seventies was go to a liberal arts college, get on the lacrosse team, smoke some grass, and play Steely Dan for the ladies; it’s like the chicks were hardwired to get horny when they heard it. Now it’s, I don’t know, Akon or some crap. Who’s that other guy, sounds like he thinks he’s in "the Matrix?" Neo? But he spells it with a hyphen and a "Y," so it’s still "neo" but it’s really "Ne-Yo." Goddamn, I wish Marvin’s daddy had never shot him...

Cramer hits a button and plays a bit of the Commodores, "Night Shift;" the lyric with, "Marvin! (Marvin!) He was a friend of mine..."

We miss you, Marvin, and R&B misses you more. And what’s up with that James Blunt kid?

Cramer hits a button and plays a bit from "You’re Beautiful;" we hear "You’re beautiful! You’re beautiful!"

What is he, a long-lost Jackson? If not, it’s good to see that eunuchs can still get normal jobs in this day and age.

Cramer hits the "Rim Shot" button.

Thank you, folks, I’ll be here until I pass out from exhaustion. Speaking of which, does anyone else think it’s hot in here?

Cramer rips off his Elvis jumpsuit to reveal a pair of leather pants, a long-sleeve red silk shirt, and a purple t-shirt underneath.

Cramer, in an impossible Looney Tunes moment, pulls a giant afro from behind his back and dons it. He then produces a headband in the same fashion and wraps it around his head as he talks.

I’ve been practicing my supreme axe-man skills, folks, let’s see just how close to rock sainthood I’ve come.

Once Cramer ties on the headband, he produces a right-hand Strat strung for a lefty.

Cramer hits a button and we hear the opening of "Purple Haze." Cramer pantomimes badly over Jimi. When the clip ends, he bows and blows kisses.

Booyah! That’s how we do it at "Mad Music," my little fried dumplings! And, hey, how about the Police getting back together, huh? Maybe they can give us more songs about stalking! Who knows, maybe Sting will write a concept album about Tantric sex. I wonder what he’d call it!

Cramer hits a button and plays a lyric from "Synchronicity Pt. II;" we hear "...a humiliating kick in the crotch!"

Ouch, Sting! I think someone’s got a fetish! And, remember, folks, the Police are headlining the Virgin Festival in Baltimore on August 4th and 5th, along with the Smashing Pumpkins and the Beastie Boys!

Cramer hits a button and we hear the lyric, "Hey, ladies!"

I’ll be there running a falafel stand. Don’t worry, I won’t jack up the prices too much. And I’ll gladly trade falafel for any kind of loose psychotropics you happen to have on your person. We’re not picky, but we prefer Oxy’s and Xanny-bars. Hey, I’m feeling kind of stupid, anybody else? How about we hear some words of wisdom? Woo! Today’s words of wisdom come from Mr. Shane MacGowan...

Cramer hits a button, and we hear lyrics from the Pogues, "Dirty Old Town;" "I’ll chop you down, like an old dead tree."

That’s ‘cause I’m the Axeman, baby!

Cramer hits another button and we hear a riff from Ted Nugent’s "Stranglehold." He pantomimes again, just as badly as last time.

Double Booyah for the Motor City Madman! The Nuge! He sent me a fur loincloth just a few weeks ago and I haven’t taken it off since. He’s good people. Jinkies! Is it... Is it time for Mad Mail already?

Cramer hits a button and we hear Stevie Wonder, "Signed, sealed, delivered!"

My how the time flies when you’re having tactile hallucinations. Our first question comes from a kid named Kevin in Moosejaw, Saskatchewan who thinks he’s a smart ass. Kevin asks, "Who would win in a fight? Lemme or God?" That’s a trick question, and I’d say that even if I hadn’t seen "Airheads" over 200 times. Obviously, God would win because, in this case, God is Ronnie James Dio.

Cramer hits a button and we hear a bit from "Holy Diver;" "Jump! Jump! Jump on the tiger!" Cramer bangs his head with the "jumps."

The next question is from Clarice in Houston, Texas who asks, "I have a friend who says that Jethro Tull is cheesy and overrated. Can you help him see the light?" I’m sorry, Clarice, but if your "friend," who I seriously doubt is worth your time, can’t see how groovy Jethro Tull is, I’m afraid there’s no hope for him. I’d say it would be best to simply slaughter him and harvest his vital organs and blood for people in need of transplants or transfusions but, unfortunately, bad taste is just as communicable as Hepatitis. So, it’d be best to either cut all ties with this supposed "friend" or send him to the Mad Music studio for a tune-up. Man, it’s still hot in here...

Cramer rips off the leather pants, the silk shirt, and the afro. He is now dressed in Mick Jagger’s outfit from the "Start Me Up" video.

Much better. Now, I’ve got some investments I’ve had my eye on for quite some time, and these are the dragon-slayers, people, these are the musical investments that will give you the best head-bang for your buck. Coming in first is one that a lot of you have been giving me crap over, and I’m sticking by it. They haven’t been able to duplicate the success of "OK Computer," but Radiohead is primed for a comeback, my tiny dancers. They’ll have a new album out within the year and it will be huge. They’re overdue for another groundbreaking release, so if you lost faith with them after the wonderfully obtuse and oddball "Kid A" and "Amnesiac," prepare to admit that Radiohead is still as good as they used to be.

Cramer hits a button and plays a bit from "Paranoid Android;" " will be first against the wall."

And will. I know these next guys are getting old and people nowadays know them more for their beards than their music, but keep on the look-out for ZZ Top. Their classic blend of rough-edged, bluesy rock is coming back in a big way and they’re set for a revival anytime now.

Cramer hits a button and plays a line from "Waiting for the Bus/Jesus Just Left Chicago;" "Have mercy!"

Lastly, KT Tunstall. She’s Scottish, she’s hot, she can sing, and she plays a mean guitar. The main reason she’s a good investment is that they play her on both the pop and country stations. You know I’m not much on the country scene, unless we’re talking Jerry Reed...

Cramer hits a button and we hear, "Eastbound and down!"

But that’s a big market people. This girl is cross-over gold and, if she were to record something with a little more "oomph," she could conquer the rock and roll stations, too. Well, that’s all we have for Mad Music. Next time we’ll talk to a special guest, Mr. Marcus Wyatt, who will tell us why it’s the perfect time to invest in, of all things, Scandinavian rock and pop. Good night and rock on!

Cramer hits a button that triggers the sound of applause. Cramer bows and walks off doing the Mick Jagger "Chicken Strut."

(DISCLAIMER: This horrible caricature of Jim Cramer does not necessarily represent the views and opinions of the Church of the Everlasting Groove or the Rev. Jenner J. Hull. Or Jim Cramer. We assume. We don’t really know, we’ve never met the guy.)

Sunday, May 13, 2007


It’s that time of the year again. The pollen finally dies down a bit, the humidity takes over, and people from up to a couple of thousand miles away hop on their hogs, groin sleds, trikes, or what have you and make the pilgrimage to Myrtle. Except for the annoying increase in already horrendous traffic, I don’t really have any gripes with Bike Week.

Despite the strange, convoluted stigma surrounding "bikers" and other frequent riders, I’ve found that most of them are decent people all around. Hell, the Scorpions I knew in VA would rather hold bike rallies for sick kids than, say, shank some guy with a broken Budweiser bottle. (Time and a place, people.)

And if you ever want to sit down with someone and be regaled with some of the craziest stories you’ve ever heard, hunt down an older biker who’s been on the road for a while. Those cats are hep.

There’s one thing that makes me nervous about all these bikers. It’s not the reputation or the wardrobe or the attitudes. From what I’ve witnessed, something like only one in fifteen (of Bike Week bikers, now; I couldn’t tell you comprehensive figures) wear helmets.

Warning: I’m going to turn into everyone’s mother. "You’re not leaving this house without a helmet, Mister!"

Having walked (i.e. limped) away from a nasty wreck with only an annihilated shoulder and some lacerations, I’ve been trying to push helmet use ever since. Had I not been wearing one at the time of the accident, I’ve no doubt that I would’ve either been killed or suffered some serious head trauma. Ever since, I’ve been, for lack of a better, Non-Seinfeldian term, a "Helmet Nazi."

Of course, this wasn’t always so (and, granted, I haven’t ridden anything in over five or six years). Before the wreck, I was one of those die-hard, militant, "Wind in Your Hair, Bugs in Your Teeth" types. Even though I rode dirt bikes and quads instead of road bikes, the general philosophy is the same, except "Less Wind, More Bugs."

I’d only wear a helmet if I was unlucky enough to be caught leaving the house without one and my parents bitched me out. So, I suppose it was the freedom of riding without a helmet but, there was also a bit of hubris there, too, a definite, "What, me wreck?" mentality. And, yes, since my parents were the original "Helmet Nazis," there was a little bit of deliberate "Fuck the System" thinking as well.

Then, in a delicious coincidence, on one of the few days I donned the helmet unprompted, I got slung head-first down a hill. As can be imagined, I was a tad more careful once I finally (somewhat) recovered.

I’m not trying to chastise anyone, unlike my father, who, when I lamented wearing a helmet, said, "Well, at least we know that if you split your head open, it won’t affect ya much." People will always have their own reasons for deciding not to wear a helmet (some good, some not so good), so if that’s your kink, go forth and do your thing.

I’d suggest that one way to bolster helmet use, though, is to have some fun with it!

Form a band of Viking Bikers. Imagine a dozen guys cruising around town with horned helmets, dragon heads on the front of the choppers, leather armor, and fur vests. For bonus points, have the entire gang wear long blonde wigs and call everyone Nordic-sounding names like "Sven Kjordling" or "Tornblad the Tall."

Or, better yet, how about Samurai Bikers? Get some ornate helmets and chestplates and become the most honorable warriors on the highway.

If I had a bike, I’d rock it Pith-helmet-style. I’d pull up beside someone at a stoplight, give the person next to me a slow burn, and ask, in my best upper-class British accent, "Mr. Livingston, I presume?"

In closing, I know that some people will still continue to not wear helmets and, in all likelihood, these people are competent riders who will never have a serious wreck. But someone dies during Bike Week every year who would’ve survived had they been wearing a helmet.
A helmet’s not the only thing that will help save you; remember where you are...

People here drive like assholes. There are a whole Hell of a lot of cars on the road and most of the drivers have, at the best, only a vague idea of where they’re going. They are extremely brake happy and love jumping lanes with little to no warning. They are also, more often than not, completely unfamiliar with the concept of "blind spots;" the safe bet is to assume that everyone around you is a moron.

So, have a good time out there, people, but watch your asses.

Thursday, May 10, 2007


I've been doing a shitty job of keeping up with these things, even though I know they happen every two weeks. (Bad Reverend! Bad!)

The newest Skeptic's Circle, at Infophilia, is a doozy. And a lark. And a barn-burner. And a hootenanny.

Give it a run.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007


At least, it does if you're a "Lost" junkie. If you're not already hooked, now might be your time to check it out. I know it's late in the third season and, if you don't watch the show, you have no chance in Hell of figuring out what's going on but the last handful of episodes have been so fucking good that I can remain silent no longer.

And, besides, I never started watching "Lost" until half-way through the second season. All the hype surrounding the first season automatically turned me off (this is also the reason I refuse to watch "Lost" promos) until I finally caught a 2nd Season ep that was so weird, ominous, and well-written that I impulsively went and bought the first season on DVD. After watching twelve episodes in a row (from 2:00 PM to 2:00 AM) on a free Saturday, I've been a rabid fan ever since. And, yes, the pilot episode was the best hour of television entertainment ever committed to film.

And when I use the phrase "'Lost' junkie," that is fairly accurate. At this exact moment, I am fully willing to sacrifice the lives of countless innocents to make it 10:00 and get my fix. And once 11:00 rolls around, all I can think about is, "Only seven more days, Reverend. One day at a time..."

After the 3rd season finale, I'm seriously considering being put into an induced coma until season four debuts.

To pass the time until ten, I've been jamming (in a non-stop fashion) to a band introduced to me by my recently married friend...

Catfish Haven - "Crazy for Leaving" (From "Tell Me")

This is what we at the Church of the Everlasting Groove mean when we speak of "rock/funk." These guys have a watertight groove and manage to produce some of the best bluesy rock I've heard in my quarter-century on this planet. Check out their MySpace page, located
yonder, and hear two other great songs as well.


I've accepted the fact that I'll never be the rock god I wanted to be. I don't like it one goddamn bit, but I've accepted it.

I have neither the patience nor inclination to master an instrument; besides, I gave the git-fiddle a try and I've found the only one I can effectively play comes with the game "Guitar Hero." I'm trying to learn the bass off and on, but that, of course, won't turn me into Flea anytime soon.

I'm a decent-to-very-good singer (depending on the key of the song and whether or not I have to hit any high parts with projection), but because I'd look ricockulous in leather pants, I refuse to wear goofy Emo make-up (there's a picture of Avenged Sevenfold's guitarist looking like Boy George that I've seen but can't find), and I think lead singers flouncing around onstage (such as Mick Jagger or Chris Robinson) is completely unnecessary to making good music, there's a slim chance any band with even passing dreams of fame would hire me on.

I also can't write song lyrics. Not even a little bit. They all sound like middle-school poetry, either from a wannabe Lothario trying to impress his first girlfriend or the loser that's in love with every pretty girl but too afraid to talk to any of them. Seriously, my song lyrics would make an American Idol reject cringe.

So, unless someone wants a lead singer that won't dance, only wears normal street clothes, and tells jokes inbetween songs, I'm relegated to singing along like the rest of the fans, albeit very loudly.

Since my dreams of making music are effectively crushed, I feel my backlog of band names should not go to waste. Feel free to steal them at your leisure or add your own...

-SPODY (For you Non-Country-Folk, "spody" is the traditional Southern pronunciation of "sporty.")
-FESTIVUS (Great name for a metal band doing Christmas covers.)
-SWEET EVIL JESUS! (Thanks, Penn!)
-MR. BROWNSTONE or MY BUDDY RON (Perfect for shitty, image-based bands that will just get hooked on heroin anyway.)
-TIBIA CAPO (I must find a way to acquire an actual tibia capo...)

And, my personal favorite...

-HELL IF I KNOW (Imagine the Abbott-and-Costello-like implications of having this band opening for the Who, Yes, and the The...)

Tuesday, May 1, 2007


The "custom-wedding ceremony" offer still stands but, in our haste to get the word out and emphasize both atheist weddings and humorous weddings, we neglected to mention another type of wedding that we will readily write or conduct.

Same-sex ceremonies. We'll do 'em gladly.

I know the laws on same-sex marriages are completely FUBAR, but we're still on board. Be it legit or just for the principle of the thing, we will, without hesitation, officiate any wedding, be it husband and wife, husband and husband, or wife and wife.

Our motto, thus far, is "Love is the only tradition worth observing." This means that we see no difference in heterosexuals and homosexuals. If you're in love, you want to get married, and you want to have some fun with it, it's fried gold, as far as we're concerned.

So, tell your friends. And while you're telling your friends about crazy weddings, you might as well tell them about the craziest metal band of all time...

GWAR - "Saddam A Go-Go" and "Jack the World" (From "This Toilet Earth")

Since they hail from VA, GWAR is probably my favorite local band. This Double Feature lets them loose on an especially nasty bit of metal/thrash and then some punk/pop.