Across Difficult Country

Today while standing on the street corner enjoying a cigarette (Seattle is yet another ‘progressive’ city which has banned smoking indoors; progressive being a popular euphemism for leftist authoritarianism), I reflected on how if I liked being outside I would have taken up jogging or riding about on a unicycle for a hobby instead of smoking. It was at this moment of legally induced vulnerability that my former colleague, Professor Glen Morangie , descended upon me. Morangie, who I had not seen for some time, was (typically) in the midst of a crisis. The good professor explained he had been for the past two months doing research in China and parts of Tibet, and while there his prized skull collection, consisting of 121 skulls, had been lost or stolen in transit at some point during a rail journey. Among Morangie’s many mental disorders he is unable to sleep in hotels without first counting each and every one of the 121 skulls in his collection, so it is vital the 121 skulls are returne...

The Bush Crimes Commission (BCC) is an independent committee which has taken upon itself the duty of indicting the current President for his various atrocities. Its members include such notables as the president of the National Lawyers Guild and compulsive filer of frivolous lawsuits Michael Avery, unpopular rapper Cornel West, The Reverend Doctor Earl Kooperkamp (his name is my name too), hairy former television actor Edward Asner, Eve Ensler (famous authoress of the play ‘Chatting With Snatches’), the great Belgian moralist Patrick Deboosere, the Maoist C. Clark Kissinger (who bears the burden of his unfortunate surname with the utmost dignity if you ask me), and, of course, Gore Vidal (one of these without Vidal is like mashed potatoes without gravy). One of the crimes against humanity the Commission promises to investigate is Bush’s failure to “ emphasize safe sex and the use of condoms ”. If they find him guilty I wonder what his sentence will be. I’m sure the BCC opposes the de...

Speaking of tragic deaths, the Terri Shiavo case inspired my good friend the noted thinker Professor Glen Morangie to withdraw food and water from his wife. At least, that’s what his wife told the policemen who rescued her from the locked basement of the Morangie home (a nosy neighbor heard cries for help then phoned the authorities). I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding that will be cleared up as soon as Professor Morangie’s whereabouts can be determined.

In a bar to soothe my teeming brain with a ‘few’ highballs and in through the door strolls Professor Glen Morangie , recently returned from a scientific expedition to Srinagar, India to acquire a living specimen of the Giant Owl of Kashmir. “I’ve proven conclusively the Giant Owl of Kashmir is extinct,” claims Morangie. The Professor informs me with his Strigiformes research concluded, he’s turning to politics, and plans to run for President. His platform includes increased government funding for treating emetophilia (a condition he himself suffers from), holding an annual vote to let the people select which lucky country will be the recipient of our bombs for the entire following year, and replacing the bald eagle as national symbol with the extinct Giant Owl of Kashmir. “The kindest and most gentle of all known giant owls, which is probably why the poor creatures went extinct,” claims the Professor, slightly teary-eyed. I’m not sure how his policies compare with those taken by the l...

I receive a letter from my good friend, Professor Glen Morangie, one of the great thinkers of our age (and a sadly unappreciated one). He is alarmed by news reports that the deadliest hurricanes' names are to be retired. He thinks this will only encourage hurricanes to be as destructive as possible, in order to get their names honored in this fashion. I forward Professor Morangie's letter to the proper authorities.

Scientists at the Max Planck Institute think protons are much smaller than “previously thought”. One day over lunch,  Professor Glen Morangie theorized crumbs are actually much larger than previously thought. “Those are croutons,” I told him.

Excerpts from my soon to be published mystery novel, Dead Man’s Trombone : I lit a Pall Mall with one hand and lazily steered the big Buick down the darkened streets with the other, because I‘m the type of guy who disregards fuel economy, Surgeon General’s warnings, and traffic safety. In the back seat was a black case. Inside the case was a dead man’s trombone. — “I enjoyed your set of post-bop improvisations,” I said, as I lit a Pall Mall. “Cool, man. A lot of cats don’t get what I’m trying to do with harmonic structures. I‘m not sure what you want from me, though.” “There’s something I would like you to take a look at.” I flipped open the case and spun it around. The jazzbo’s eyes widened. “Damn! Is that a dead man’s trombone?” — I opened the door, and found her lying on the couch, the dead man’s trombone on top of her, nestled in the cleavage of her ample bosom. I lit a Pall Mall. For once, the unflappable detective was thoroughly flapped. — I lit a Pall Mall, then gave him a cold...

From the files of Professor Glen Morangie : Giant Olmec Head Miami Heat Forward Antoine Walker Head Were the Olmecs from Africa ?

A woman in France, Francoise Gaellar , believes she’s in possession of one of Princess Diana’s kidneys. She received a kidney transplant two days after Diana’s death, and claims to now be suffering an unusual side effect: [Gaellar] says something strange happened following her operation - she found herself peppering her conversation with English phrases. "I found myself speaking English to my friends, something I don't normally do because I have no reason to," she says. "I cannot explain why I did this." Oddly, my good friend Professor Glen Morangie also claims to be in possession of one of Princess Diana’s kidneys, which he keeps in jar on his desk. He purchased his from a highly reputable dealer in curiosities who understandably wishes to remain anonymous. The most disturbing aspect of Ms. Gaellar’s story (which has not been remarked upon elsewhere) is, if it turns out to be true, it would possibly mean that the cannibals, who thought one could acquire anothe...

I received a telephone call this morning from my good friend the noted thinker and ethicist Professor Glen Morangie . He had read a story about Pulitzer Prize winning reporter Diana Griego Erwin who resigned when it was discovered that "several sources that Griego Erwin had identified by name, age and sometimes by the neighborhoods in which she reported they lived" did not exist. He wondered if I had ever done such a journalistically unethical thing, and I assured him that all of my sources are real. Speaking of professors, UCLA professor of law Steven Bainbridge observes that without illegal alien serfs, wealthy gluttons like himself would have to pay more to get drunk on California wine. Bring this up the next time you encounter some pathetic slob who doesn't know Merlot from Pinot Noir complaining about illegal aliens ruining his children’s schools or driving up his costs of buying a home , it should shut him up.

A blog called Lovelacen testi linked to one of my recent entries, with the comment : kirjoitus "Reader Mail" arvostelee loput uutuuselokuvat näkemättä niitä, jottei minun tai kenenkään muunkaan tarvitse tehdä tätä. I can't say I disagree. I can't say I agree either, as I have no idea what that means. After considerable thought, I've concluded Lovelacen testi’s posts are the ramblings of a dipsomaniac Hungarian with a speech impediment, phonetically transcribed by typists at an outsourcing center in Bombay whom he mistakenly telephones late at night, drunk and confused. Take, for example, this amusing bit of gobbeldygook, chosen at random from the Lovelacen testi webpage: Toinen elokuvassa minua häirinnyt seikka oli se, että vaikka Crease vannoi tappavansa kaikki kidnappauksesta rahallisesti hyötyneet, hän antoi sitten kuitenkin kaikkien naisrikollisten elää. Ilmeisesti kyseessä ei vielä ole niin edgy hahmo, että hän olisi voinut tappaa naisia olematta itse seks...

I awake in the pretentious city of Seattle (future home of the homosexualist ‘manorail’ ), and discover my good friend Professor Glen Morangie (recently returned from his Tsunami relief mission ) has been trying to contact me all morning to alert me to this story : Reports of reptile on loose unnerve Medina residents Beware a caiman or some other large reptile spotted around Cozy Cove and Fairweather Bay, the Medina Police Department warned residents in a Friday e-mail. The department reported sightings, including one person who saw it lingering in the reeds at the back of the bay... If the sighting proves correct, it could be a caiman, which can grow to 7 feet long and usually makes its home much farther south, in the marshes and rivers of Latin American, said Dana Payne, a curator and reptile specialist at Seattle's Woodland Park Zoo. Or it might be an American alligator, which can frequently reach 9 to 10 feet in length and hails from the Southeast, said Payne, who fielded a cal...

Tsunami relief efforts continue. In Hong Kong, stars including Jackie Chan are recording a Chinese version of We are the World . As I’m sure the people of Sri Lanka would agree, there is no greater consolation in the aftermath of catastrophe than an inane pop song, badly sung in a language one doesn’t understand. Speaking of tidal wave victims in Sri Lanka, the search for the still missing male lover of interior designer and minor television celebrity Nate Berkus continues. As Mr. Berkus tells it, he was happily lying in bed at a Sri Lankan resort, his male lover right behind him when the wave hit. Mr. Berkus survived by clinging to a pole, but "His friend...was torn away from the same pole", which must have surprised both of them. Talk show host and humanitarian Oprah has stopped eating long enough to hire a group of ex-Marines to locate Mr. Berkus buddy, bless her. Despite giving undue attention to this trivial story for some reason the mainstream press has made no men...

Unfortunately, the weather in Seattle today is sunny and warm, with just a few tiny brush-strokes of cloud on one small corner of the vast blue canvas of sky. I say unfortunately because, as you may recall, the reason I returned to Seattle for the holidays was that Seattle’s usual grey, drizzly weather is soothing when I have a hangover. Oh well, boredom is also soothing when I have a hangover, and Seattle can still be counted on to provide plenty of that. My headache is interrupted by the arrival of a telegram from my good friend the renowned thinker Professor Glen Morangie, alerting me to a recent ‘scientific breakthrough’ in Australia. Use of the term scientific breakthrough leads me to expect something momentous, such as the discovery of a new kind of gravity or the invention of a machine which can ensure that the weather is grey and drizzly when I have a hangover. Instead I learn the breakthrough is : A team of north Queensland experts found one of the world's most deadli...