The Pagan group known as “The Sisters of the Hobgoblin” were enacting Pagan rituals that celebrate Pagan Christmas, in the Little Rock community park, and were starting the festivities around 7:00 PM every evening, and had been doing so since two weeks before Thanksgiving. The Pagans were performing ritual sacrifices of livestock, and engaging in alcohol fueled naked orgies in plain view of the public. When asked by reporters why the Pagans were doing this, the leader of the Group “Sister Buffy Milking Kittens”, told reporters, “ This is our way of celebrating Christmas, this is our religion on display for all to see.”

“Families of Little Rock” or FOLR, a so-called “ activism for families organization”, filed suit on the grounds that these displays by the Pagans, were violations of the Constitution’s provisions on separation of church and state. A spokesperson for FOLR, said in a televised interview that, “This is simply not fair that Pagans are allowed to have religious displays in full public view, when no Christian groups were being allowed to host displays on public property.”

In the first ruling by the Arkansas Supreme Court, FOLR’s suit was thrown out by the court on the grounds that the Pagan group was not an actual religion recognized by the state of Arkansas. The court further clarified that they defined accepted religions as being based on Christianity, or sometimes Muslims or Jews, and occasionally Lutherans.

FOLR filed a second suit, stating that the displays should be halted, because they were a violation of community standards. FOLR went on to say that ritual sacrifice and drunken orgies were not their idea of appropriate behavior.

The Arkansas Supreme Court ruled a second time to allow the Pagans to continue their displays. The court reminded FOLR, that while the Constitution does not allow any serious organized religions to put up displays of their icons, that the Pagans were clearly not a recognized religion, and thus did not violate the Constitution’s provisions for separation of church and state. The court ruled that the behavior in the park by the Pagans, in no way violated community standards, and added that “ we have a former resident of Arkansas, that frequently behaved in such manner, and he went on to become President.”

I for one am appalled and dismayed at this whole process. I cannot remember a time in my life, where my sensibilities have been offended as much as they have by the legal wrangling in the state of Arkansas on this issue. I hope you are outraged too, just enough to make you think a little deeper on this subject than you perhaps have before.

Halliburton sponsors today’s funny, not funny words: offensive.

Today’s sampling of black comedy and parody laced with satire and bogus philosophy was brought to you by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, who would like to say, ”You can have your rocks and stones that you threw at us back now, we do not need them.”

Gisher: Good morning everybody, nice to see you all back again. Everybody got themselves all ready for Christmas?
(Crowd murmurs Yeah!)
Before we get started this morning, I have had the deacons rope off this front pew. I want all the children present, to come down front right now and sit in this pew.
(Gisher pauses while everyone moves around and walks down from the podium with the microphone towards the pew)
Gisher: Everybody all settled down now?
(Crowd says yeah)
Gisher: What on earth do we have here? Does everybody see this child? Why he must be six foot tall. DAVE AWAY FROM HOME what in the heck are you doing here?
DAVEAWAY: I was just hoping you might have that roving eye Jesus cross for me.
Gisher: Roving eye Jesus? JESUS! A ROVING EYE JESUS HE WANTS! I gotta tell you Dave I have spoken with Senator Kennedy myself about that, and he told me as soon as he’s finished his new weight loss program, he would work something out with you. NOW YOU MAY BE A CHILD AT HEART, BUT YOU SURE AIN’T A CHILD, GET YOUR BIG OLE BUTT BACK IN YOUR SEAT.
(Dave gets up and runs back to his pew with the crowd laughing.)
Gisher: Stand up here young man so everybody can see you. Tell everybody what you want for Christmas young man.
Young Boy: I want a Ford, a big Ford F150 with a roll bar and fog lights.
Gisher: How old are you young man?
(Little boy holds up five fingers.)
Gisher: You are FIVE YEARS OLD?
(little boy nods.)
Gisher : Young man do you think your feet will reach the gas and brake pedals?
(young boy shakes his head, no.)
Gisher: Do you have a bicycle, would you like a bicycle?
(young boy nods, yes.)
Gisher: Well I hope your daddy DAVEAWAY HEARD THAT. I don’t want you getting arrested for driving under the age. Thank you young man. How about this beautiful young lady here, would you stand up please? Tell me, how old are you ?
Little girl: Four years old.
Gisher: You are so cute, isn’t she the most beautiful thing you ever saw people?
Crowd says Amen)
Gisher: Tell me little girl, what do you want for Christmas?
Little girl: I want.., I want my daddy to come home.
Gisher: You want your daddy to come home, can you tell me honey, where is your daddy right now?
Little girl: My daddy’s in the army in Iraq.
Gisher visably moved: What is your daddy’s name?
Little girl: Dean Michael Dorman.
Gisher: I wish I could tell every child this but honey I got some good news for you. Little lady, YOUR DADDY IS COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS. HALLELUJAH!!!
(Crowd says Amen! Amen! Amen!)
Gisher: I just got word from overseas they are flying Dean back to Germany and in just a few weeks he will be home. EVERYBODY PLEASE, bow your heads for me as we pray:

God, if it is in your will, please see that this young girl’s father returns safely to his home. And if it is in your will God, please give all of us the wisdom and the strength, and the MOTIVATION, to make sure that young people do not get sent into harms way again, unless it is ABSOLUTELY necessary. Amen.
(Crowd says AMEN!)

Gisher: Thank you little lady and please know that we all love you and we are with you.
(Gisher hugs little girl)
Gisher: What do we have here? I didn’t see you cause you were scrunched down so low. Stand up Chico.
(Chico stands up)
Gisher: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE HAVE THE BIGGEST CHILD OF ALL RIGHT HEERE, MR. CHICO MAHALO OF THE “FORK”. What on earth are you doing up here Mr. Mahalo?
Chico: I heard, I uh heard you guys have really good food.
Gisher: Mr. Mahalo, we don’t break bread until after the service is over. NOW GET BACK TO YOUR SEAT YOU SILLY FOOL!
(Chico runs back, crowd laughing. Gisher walks back to the podium and looks out at the crowd still smiling)
Gisher: Oh my God, we got a bunch of silly people in here.
(Crowd laughing; AMEN! AMEN!)

Gisher: I wanted to first talk about those of you who are not Christians and what Christmas means to you. I wonder what it says that you have one day a year where you give each other presents and decorate your house up, I mean what are you doing besides making Sam Walton’s kids richer so they can get themselves killed with new toys? Now if you are spending that day with friends and family, truly sharing love with them and appreciating a moment of peace, I say fine. That’s ok with me. But let me ask you, have your ever read the words of Christ? Jesus spoke of peace, love and forgiveness. Most of the things that Jesus left for us can be applied in your daily lives, and will help you to get along better with everyone you deal with. His words on forgiveness will help you live a happier life. Anger is a terrible thing to hold onto, because it destroys your own life, and it makes you and everyone around you miserable, IT CAUSES WARS, IT CAUSES MURDERS, IT CAUSES ULCERS! Jesus also told all of us to let it go and move on. We did not have these ideas till Jesus gave them to us. Say AMEN!
(Crowd says AMEN!)
Gisher: You don’t have to become a Christian to appreciate what Jesus gave us all. You don’t have to believe that he was the SON OF GOD! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANNA BELIEVE ABOUT HIM! But you can believe in his lessons and his words, because if you use them, they really work. So on Christmas day as you are celebrating with your friends and family, take a moment to thank Jesus. Thank him for giving you tools to live a better life, and a way to get along with others, and a way to keep young men and women from fighting wars. After all, CHRISTMAS IS HIS BIRTHDAY! You folks that are not Christians would do well to wish him a happy one. If you don’t you need to take that star or that angel OFF THE TOP OF YOUR TREE. SAY AMEN EVERYBODY!
(Crowd says AMEN!)
Gisher: As for you Christians, I see you out there shaking your heads. I noticed this, don’t think I didn’t. Did Jesus tell you that you were supposed to judge anybody? I think somebody else has that job, don’t you?
(Crowd says AMEN!)
Gisher: I’m going to cover you guys too, but I am gonna do that next Sunday. If I don’t hurry up and finish, Chico is gonna die from hunger. I am way too hoarse from screaming all week at fools, so today I have asked a man I truly adore to step in and wrap up some of these themes in a song for us.

(Lights dim down and a spotlight comes on)

Gisher: Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from Ireland, Mr. David Gray.

I beg to differ
To break the chain
To draw a line right through
Tomorrow
And cancel every claim
I’ve seen reflections
Beneath my skin
And drums beating for battle
In the eyes of children

And turning it over
Right down
Where the eye don’t see no colour
Where the war don’t make a sound
Ice on the shoulder
Noel
Praise the Lord above
And sell sell sell

Oh violent flowers
You fill the screen
Betray your mother
And change your name
So tall and fickle
And blind as snow
Running headfirst for oblivion
Cause you’ve nowhere else to go

And turning it over
Right down
Where the eye don’t see no colour
Where the war don’t make a sound
Ice on the shoulder
Noel
Praise the Lord above
And sell sell sell

In chill of winter
In dead of night
Each so familiar with the hunger
That they got no appetite
They talk of loving
I hear her say
That as fast as I can give it
He’s taking it away

And turning it over
Right down
Where the eye don’t see no colour
Where the war don’t make a sound
Ice on the shoulder
Noel
Praise the Lord above
And sell sell sell

A weeping willow
The desert wind
So many learn to swallow
So few to understand
The deepest longing
This cup of faith
Where to put them in a world
Where no innocence is safe

(Applause, and it continues, as people stand up.)

THANK YOU DAVID! THANK YOU JESUS HALLELUJAH! Thanks all you good people out there. Put your money in the platters as you leave. HALLELUJAH! Amen. Time for Chico to get some BISCUITS AND GRAVY!

When I arrived, the snow was coming in sideways, and the wind was howling at itself. Nature seemed to be roiling in a fury, that far surpassed the stirrings in my own mind. There were roughly thirty Canadian geese, sitting out on the water, they must have had some sick ones amongst them, or perhaps their young were coming along slowly this year, because they were real damn late getting out. They were making one heck of a ruckus; you could hear them over the top of the wind, complaining about the things geese complain about with each other. It was such an invasive noise, that I was almost on the verge of leaving this place, because after all, I had ventured here for the quiet.

Then almost as if a door had suddenly closed, the geese and the wind went quiet. Not a trace of breeze brushed my face. All around me, huge snowflakes now fell silently and added to the blanket of white that covered everything around me. The geese appeared to be looking at me, and then I noticed the hair was standing upright on the back of my neck. Once again he was behind me, I had not heard him make a sound, but I knew he was there.

“Need some stillness?” the now very familiar voice, said.
“Bigtime.” I said, without turning around to confront him. The geese were slowly inching towards me and stretching their necks out, as if to see what was behind me.
“Had a rough week I see.” Jesus said, and continued speaking, “ I was observing the whole thing, and I have to tell you that I am not really sure what to make of it all. You came down pretty hard on those kids, and I know you love them, and I definitely know you understand just how they feel. Why did you choose the direction you went with them?”

Without turning around to look at him I said, “Why did you throw that major fit at the temple with the money changers, I know you loved them too?”
“Are you trying to compare yourself to me?” Jesus asked.
“ Oh hell no, even if I was as gifted as you were, I am certainly not anywhere near as brave as you were.” I said slowly turning around to face him.
“Well I did it because they had forgotten what the temple was all about, and what it stood for. They had completely lost touch with their roots, and were not showing the appropriate respect for themselves or the temple. You are right, I did it out of anger, and I did it out of love. I loved them all, and I did not think another little parable of mine would get their attention, anywhere near as well, as trashing the place would.” And Jesus sighed, and lowered his head.
“ Did you get their attention?” I asked.
“ I am not sure how much of anything I did got their attention, or for that matter, anyone else’s attention, but I do think that maybe I just might have got a slight grip on yours.” Jesus said as he looked up to me and smiled that beautiful smile he has that will pulse and flow, and flow all the way through you.

There was a sudden stirring behind me, and I spun around just in time to see all of the geese taking off in formation. Perhaps they were trying to push further south before the night closed in on them.

I was admiring the grace of their departure I said, “In the last few weeks, I have seen a few people actually demonstrate for me, that they actually understood what I was saying to them, and some of them asked me, actually asked me what they could do to help. Until that happened, for a while there, I was starting to worry about us, and I think I might have come to understand a little, of just how you must have felt.”

I turned back around to say something else to him but once again, he had vanished, and left as quietly as he had arrived. I wondered if he had heard the last thing I said to him, because I really wanted him to know that I understood him. Somehow, that moment I realized that he did not have to hear it. I was the one that needed to listen that day, not him. Then I noticed that my thoughts had been invaded by a silence, and the noises that had relentlessly refused to go away, had departed. It was the best kind of silence, the silence that only comes from the peace one feels inside, when they finally let go of whatever burden they were carrying.

The good folks over at the John Birch Society have apparently never hammered any nails. Either that or they were real damn lucky they never smashed their fingers. It appears to me as though they have spent a great deal of time banging their heads against a brick wall, perhaps for them, it’s like switching from methadone to heroin.

Why such a snide comment about such noble (cough) group of men you ask? Two real damn good reasons, with the first one being something that I keep trying to pound into my loyal reader’s heads.

John Birch believes massive letter writing campaigns to our elected officials can affect major change. (Too many “Mr. Smith goes to Washington” movie rentals.) About the only major changes they will ever achieve, is in the color of the jackets of congressional pages. As big as John Birch is, they do not have anywhere close to the juice they need, to take on the combined business lobbies.

The other major problem they appear to have is advanced senility. The John Birch group wants to roll up the carpet and close the door to the rest of the world. They really want the U.S. to just forget that the rest of the world exists.

Now I know the U.N. sucks wind and that building in New York that they operate out of would be best described as just a glass-encased pirate ship. Basically a bunch of banging shoes on desks and stuffing cash in pockets, that is about all they are good for, excepting if you overlook the increased income for high-end prostitutes. But who writes the checks to pay for all this? Guess what bucko, we cover a majority of the bill. Easy solution forming, yes I see it, if junior does not behave, cut off his allowance until he sits up straight. But that brings me back to the J.B. boys.

I have no earthly idea where the Birchers think most of the produce they eat comes from. Maybe they just consume steaks made from American cattle and avoid any other offerings. I guess all the gadgets and toys in their house are over forty years old, why they must have lots of tubes glowing in the living room at night. They must also be driving automobiles made before the Ford administration. Surely you realize where most car parts are made these days.

Do you think they also carry around oxygen tanks so they do not have to breathe in the outside air, which contains contaminates produced from exhaust emissions, and smokestacks located all over the planet? Maybe most of them are modern day flat-earthers, and they believe we have Plexiglas installed around all of our borders that rises all the way up into the atmosphere.

Is it possible the Birches are doing really good drugs, but they are refusing to share them with the rest of us? Where, I ask, did these powerful drugs come from? You think it might have been Utah? I wonder if we can ever get them to share? I want to be that stupid, I really do.

Maybe they are too young and that is their problem. They weren’t around the last time we all had their attitude, and the Japanese decided to throw us a surprise party, you know, that tiny little deal called WORLD WAR II? The Birch guys must really be a bunch of very youthful guys, not to remember that one.

On wait, I forgot that they were alive when a bunch of guys that were frequently dressed up like my wife is when she comes out the shower, added up their frequent flier miles and plowed themselves right into high end real estate in New York City. Ok, maybe the John Birch Society is just loaded to the brim with a bunch of morons.

There was a side note about how one Barbara Bush had repeatedly attempted during this period to obtain an abortion. Doctors had informed her she was far too old for the procedure and further, her child was already running around outside her womb, and was in fact acting as the puppet front man for some guy named Cheney.

Still the article was simply amazing to read. It detailed how the people who were against abortion, got together with the people who were fighting for legalized abortions. They all had worked earnestly to educate the masses, and had successfully encouraged everyone to use birth control.

The few women that did manage to become pregnant had been persuaded by both sides to carry the babies to term, and give the baby’s up for adoption. Pope Benny himself, had provided church funds to set up an organization to provide these babies with good Catholic homes. It was, as Jesus would say, “A beautiful thing.”

In addition, there was unanimous praise for all of the new Supreme Court appointees. Since the litmus test of abortions no longer held sway, appointees had dramatically improved in quality, and most were now being selected solely for their overall skills as a jurist.

The amount of money spent on elections had significantly shrank, as funding from both camps on the abortion issue, had dropped virtually to zero. As a bonus, since abortion was no longer the major line in the sand for elections, candidates were forced to focus on other issues to attract voters.

Below that article, there were some reports of very sad side effects from the halting of abortions. Apparently unemployment rose drastically when all of the employees of activist groups who were originally for or against abortion were laid off due to lack of funding. Foreclosures on homes and expensive autos for these same people were also on the rise. The primary victims, were the top managers and directors for groups such as The National Right to Life.

Some of these former association employees were already on the road to rehabilitation and had accepted jobs flipping burgers at McDonald’s and some had acquired retail jobs, and were hiding from customers in the stockrooms of Walmart.

But some of the sharper ones had managed to find new funding sources, one being the former president of N.O.W. Kim Gandy. Kim had successfully jump-started a new organization called E.T.I. (Eliminate the Idiots), and this organization was claiming there were far too many mouths to feed on the planet, and we needed abortions back, to save humanity from themselves.

While I personally agreed with E.T.I.’s premise that we had to lower birthrates or sit back and watch humanity slip into oblivion, I couldn’t accept their methodology. I was also afraid it wouldn’t be long before a new special interest group formed called O.R.T.P.I. (Our Right To Produce Idiots).

I had to face up to it, we live in world where people get rich, by dividing us up and then scaring a large chunk of us into funding their lavish lifestyles. Just as this epiphany was hitting me, at that very moment I woke up, and found myself in a cold sweat. I immediately recognized I was awake, and it had only been a dream, and sadly I realized that there was very little difference between my dreams and reality.

Allo everybody, I ’ope you all are doing just’a fine. If you have a been a reading deese a posts, you know I have a been appointed Vatican Special Envoy for a sexual education. My a job, itza to make a sure, that you a people are having as much a sexual congress as you can get and you a producing tons of a Catholic babies for the a Pope.

The biggest a thing you gotta do, itza check out you a hygiene. If a you breath, itza smells like a major infection mixed with a rotting produce, do you think someone would a really want to kiss a you? Have you a taken a really good look at you a toes? Do you got a stuff growing there that looks a like some kinda new life a form? You think a you wife, she wants a stuff you a finds growing on a trees rubbing off on a her skin? And then when was a de last time you took you a bath? Weeks, a months, or was it before a Reagan became a you president?

What about you a hair, have you taken a good look at you a back, you a ears, and you a nose? Have a you got a more hair growing in dose places than you do on you a head? Maybe you could help a you self some if it moved to you a head, but you gotta get a rid of it first. Maybe a somebody, maybe they a wife wants to have a sexual congress with a Han’s solo’s a sidekick, but I bet a most of them, they would prefer a Jean-Luc Picard.

Usually deese a women, they take a pretty good care of themselves. I know a few of them, de should move to a Wisconsin, and become a major dairy product producers, but most a them, they take a pretty good care of themselves.

Itza mostly you a men that get a so gross, the only thing that a would want to crawl on a you, itza would be a microbe. I hear a you guys, all of de time talking about how a you don get more no more since you got a married. If you a really want to get a more action in a de sack, you need to take yourself down to a de car wash, and park a you car. Tip de attendant a few extra a bucks and then run you a ass through there. Don’t forget about behind a you ears.

AND NOW I FEEL LIKE SINGING TO YA…YES I DO!

(Lights fade, spot light comes on, colored choir hums Mmmmmmm)

Reverend Gisher: OOOOH LET ME TELL, YOU NOW, LET ME TELL A YOU.

Choir Repeats: OOOOH LET ME TELL,LET ME TELLLL YOUUUU.

Reverend Gisher: LET ME TELL YOU THE SAD, SAD STORY.

Choir says: LET ME TELL YA!!!

Reverend Gisher: LET ME TELL YOU THE SAD, SAD STORY.

Choir says: JUST TELL ME NOW!!!!

Reverend Gisher: ABOUT BEING…Politically Correct.

Choir says: POLITICALLY CORRECT, POLICTICALLY CORRECT.

(Tempo really picks up.)

Reverend Gisher: And nothing gonna hurt nobody, nothing going’n to hurt no more.

Choir: HURT US, HURT US, HURT US, YEAAAAAAA.

Reverend Gisher: Cause we won’t, we won’t see, won’t see it coming to get us.

Choir: DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S TRUE, OOOOOO, YES YOU DOOOOO.

Reverend Gisher: Cause we’ve tuned out EVERY PAIN.

Choir: EVERY PAIN, EVERY PAIN, YEAAAAAA.

Reverend Gisher: YOU WOULDN’T LET US FEEL.

Choir: (In a whisper) Don’t you know it’s true,
Don’t you know it’s true,

(Tempo really picks up. The house is rocking.)

Reverend Gisher: YOU WOULDN’T LET US FEEL ANYTHING

Choir: ANYTHING, ANYTHING!!!!

Reverend Gisher: Cause you were so much afraid, TO HURT YOURSELF.

Choir; HURT YOURSELF, HURT YOURSELF.

Reverend Gisher: And now, we’re all gonna DIE.

Choir: Gonna Die, TO THE SKY, TO THE SKYYYYY.

Reverend Gisher: Cause you didn’t want NO ONE, no one to cry.

Choir: WE’RE GONNA DIE, WE’RE GONNA DIE.

Reverend Gisher: And I hope you don’t get upset

(piano really banging now)

Choir: NO YOU WON’T, NO YOU WON’T

Reverend Gisher: Cause that wouldn’t be politically correct

Choir: SO CORRECT, SO CORRECT, SO CORRECT

Reverend Gisher: POLITICALLY CORRECT

Choir: Just one more, JUST ONE MORE.

Reverend Gisher: P-O-L-I-T-C-A-L-L-Y CORRECT!!!!

Choir: That’s Enough, THAT’S ENOUGH

(Tempo drops all the way back down)

Reverend Gisher: No that wouldn’t be right at alllll

Choir: RIGHT AT ALL, RIGHT AT ALLLLLLLLLL

(Choir holds last note, drum rolling)

Reverend Gisher: For me to tell you the truth

(Drum rolling continues, choir hums in background)

Reverend Gisher: For me to tell the truth to you

(Choir winds down with band)

Choir: TELL THE TRUTH TO YOU.

(Lights come up Gisher is sweating buckets and screams dropping the mike)

THANK YOU JESUS! THANK YOU JESUS HALLELUJAH! Thanks all you good people out there. Put your money in the platters as you leave. HALLELUJAH! Amen. Time for some BISCUITS AND GRAVY!

Way back in 1964, my father invited a Jewish couple over to our house for dinner, way down south in Central Florida. These were the days of wine (gun racks with baseball bats) and roses. They were served a tasty dinner (burned crisp by Mom as usual), and there was spirited playful (awkward) conversation accenting the meal. After the evening was finished, they (rapidly) drove back to their house on the coast. The word of their visit was a tad slow to spread around the neighborhood, as too late to be of any use, some very nice men (KKK) brought some kindling wood by for an outdoor (cross-burning) cookout on our lawn.

As a young teenager (pimple-faced), I briefly dated a beautiful Jewish Girl while at summer camp (not in Florida). She was gorgeous and brilliant, and a real good conversationalist, but because of cultural differences (she would not put out), we drifted apart.

I grew up to be a man (emotionally stunted, immature twenty one year old), and married a (WASP) preacher’s daughter (who did put out quite often) who had beautiful auburn hair, and a great personality (butt). My new bride’s father was a wonderful, sensitive (arrogant prick) man who was also a very good (hack) preacher. On numerous occasions, he would speak to us, of the many horrors visited upon the Jewish people during World War II (said everything was grossly over-inflated by the Jews, that it was really only a few hundred convicted Jewish felons) that were tortured and killed in German concentration camps. He was also quick to remind you that (the bleeping Jews killed Christ) Christ himself was Jewish. He was a great influence on me, and an example of just how engaged (wouldn’t take his eyes off “Wheel Of Fortune” during the Thanksgiving meal) a father should be with his family. He was raised in Pennsylvania, and was a (carpet- bagger) transplant.

A decade or so later, I watched as a truly great (major extortion expert) man Jessie Jackson, spoke high praises (“hymietown”) of Jewish people living in New York City, proving there was no resentment amongst blacks for the Jewish people.

A few year ago, I moved to upstate new York, and everyone I met (WASPS), only had the kindest things to say (they have all the money) about the Jews but for some reason, only when there were no Jews around (modest). In the highly diverse town (Jew Villa) of Brighton N.Y., WASPS are still knocking each other over (avoiding it completely) to move into a neighborhood with the lowest taxes, and best schools in the area. Funny how it’s still mostly Jewish after all these years.

I have noticed how throughout the state, WASPS and Jews live in total harmony (separate neighborhoods) and felt completely comfortable (separate neighborhoods) with each other. Right before celebrating my first Christmas here, a lone Jew living in a WASP neighborhood, which is a common (my ass) occurrence here, had his house decorated (vandalized), because everyone in the community really appreciated how beautiful his Minoras were in his window. They (his WASP neighbors), all put Minoras up in their yards, to show him how (embarrassed they were this happened in full view of the public) supportive they were of him.

Recently I started my blog, and rapidly linked up with a nice (flaming hotheaded Jew) guy who was as brilliant (like most Asians are) and sensitive (moody) as a human can be. If you visit his site you would never know (reeks of flaming Jew) he was Jewish. He has always been kind (he recently called me a whore and a thug in Yiddish) to me. Despite writing posts that were frequently (sarcastic as hell) funny and always brilliant (I am so damn jealous of him), he to this day, has one of the lowest ratios of comments per post, of any site I link to.

I am quite certain that his low ratio of comments is a result of his writing being beyond the grasp of the average (non-Asian) reader. I am sure of this since there is most certainly the greatest of harmony that exists, between Jews and their fellow Americans; it could not possibly be the result of anti-Semitism. (Iraq is a justifiable war.)

Allo everybody, I ’ope you all are doin just’a fine. Today we are going to talk about a sex in de mind. It seems a to me, that one of de problems with you relationships today, itza that too many a people don know de first or de last a name, of de person they are having a sexual congress with. Alot of you a people, don seem to know what da address is, of de person you are with.

I’m not a talking about de people who pick someone up in one of dos a meat markets, as you would a call them. I am a talking about a married people. I’m not a trying to encourage people to have a more casual sex; they are doing just’a fine with that. I’m a talking about you a married people.

Sometimes you peoples act just’a like a spiders. Once you got you mate trapped in you a web, you don work so a hard to keep a them there anymore. Itza like de only job you have to do, is get a them in you house, then you a work, itza done. Some of you, you just’a want to roll your wife in a dough, then put on you a scuba suit, and dive a straight in de pond. Sexual congress, it don start in de body, no itza starts in de mind.

Do you think that de woman that you a married, she don a change, she don a grow as a person? Maybe she don a grow, but then you a probably should not have a married someone, who was a that stunted in de first a place. Maybe you a met her, in a one of dos a meat markets.

A real a healthy woman, she’s a supposed to grow like a tree. She’s a going to change with a time as it a passes. And if you don a talk to her, find out what she is a thinking, you not gonna know who she is a pretty soon. Some people they a fantasize about sex with a strangers. But I think in reality, wanting to have a sexual congress with a somebody, is just’a way of saying you want to get to know more about dis a person. Course dis a don apply to you, if you a one a dos rolling testicles.

So if you want a you wife to do de slappy a tickle with you a little more often, why don you try to get inside a her head, before you rush a straight into her pants. If you not a having sex when you talk to her, and when you a listen to her, you a not gonna know who you is a sleeping with. And pretty soon, you a not going to be a sleeping with her a very often either.

Maybe when you were a kid, you wanted to grow up to be a liberal. You spent every day of your life reading op-ed opinions from liberal newspapers with a twinkle in your eye, and you longed for the day that someone would describe you as “weak on defense.”

Perhaps, you felt differently as a child and secretly, you would sneak out of the house to watch John Wayne movies. Your biggest moment in life would be the day someone handed you a John Birch Society membership card, or the moment someone accused you of being “insensitive to the plight of the poor”.

Me personally, I wanted to grow up to be an astronaut, then a poet, next a preacher, followed later by a rock star, and finally, a vinyl siding salesman. (We all have our dreams, and who are you to snort at mine?) Not one single moment, did the thought ever enter my head, that I wanted to grow up to be myopic. Not that I haven’t found myself there several times, although rarely when I was sober.

As time passed, I made many mistakes, and I kept making some of them repeatedly. I have left a trail of wreckage behind me, from acts brought about by extreme misjudgments, and who knows, I may produce more wreckage down the road. I have never been perfect, and have long since given up on ever attaining that status. I make mistakes daily, like a crack addict going for yet another fix. There is one thing I have avoided all these years though, and may God help me, I will never be labeled, pigeonholed, or find myself dancing behind other lemmings.

I will evaluate every issue one at a time, and gather all the information on the subject I can find. I will apply logic and all the common sense I can muster to decide what I think about each issue, and I will not ask or wait for some association to tell me what I should think. I might become bolder about it than I am now, and stop being as nice to people that would dare ask me to draw my line in the sand. Maybe the next time somebody asks me which side I am on, I will pause for a second, and then answer, “The one with the wet spot.”