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God Is Dead. Murdered! And Someone’s Responsible!

Posted by scott on October 7th, 2010

Hey look, it’s Robin of Berkeley, our favorite psycho psycho-therapist.  She’d like to have a heart-to-heart with us all about our souls, and the crappy state of municipal sanitation, so let’s all pull up a stool and cop an evil squat.

Obama and the Evil Squatters

“God is dead,” according to the existentialist Nietzsche. He might as well have been talking about Berkeley, California.

So Berkeley is dead?  There go my plans to grab a half veggie and Hawaiian pie at Fat Slice.  Thanks a lot, Nietzsche.

Think I’m exaggerating?

That’s not the first word that comes to mind when I think of you, no.  It’s just the most polite one.

Take a trip out west and spend a few days on Telegraph Avenue. Then wander over to the downtown area, Shattuck and University. If you’re really the daredevil, do so after dark, when the mean streets look positively Kafkaesque.

So then…Kafka is dead.  Okay, Nietzsche, I gotta give you that one.  But then you’re dead too; in fact, you died first, so I wouldn’t go getting all moldier than thou about it. Or maybe Robin thinks Berkeley has turned into a giant cockroach, which would explain that story of hers about how a vicious hobo fought a charismatic dancing insect to the death, and gave all of Telegraph Avenue a sad.

When I say God is dead in Berkeley, I don’t mean just that parts of the city look like a hellhole. I’m referring to the militant anti-God vibe.

As Robin tells it, the Roman Empire has returned, Berkeley is the new Coliseum, and Christians are once again being persecuted and torn apart by wild beasts for the amusement of jaded heathens.  It’s gotten so bad that Jesus, who hobnobbed with whores and lepers, can’t even count on a warm welcome from the alcoholics anymore.

There’s increasing animosity towards 12-step programs because they’re rooted in Christian theology. But the rebellion is not just from without, but also from within. In some AA meetings, members use their check-in time to lambaste Judaism and Christianity.

Maybe Jesus shouldn’t have turned the coffee into Irish coffee.  It was a good miracle, but the meeting kind of went downhill after that.

Consequently, Berkeley Christians share their religion in whispered tones.

We can only pray this catches on.

A person who has an appetite for worship may remain hungry for fear of ridicule.

You know, I’m pretty sure God can hear you, even when you use your inside voice.

While it’s perfectly acceptable in Berkeley to live openly as a bisexual, transgendered, or crossdresser, don’t dare divulge a love for God. If you do so, expect public disapproval, even contempt.

It’s not that most people object to a man loving a god, it’s just that studies show that it’s better for the children to be raised in a traditional family by a mother and father.

And yet, why don’t residents see the obvious: that’s there’s a connection between abandoning God and the un-Godliness of Berkeley’s streets? The streets are filthy and uncivil; the crime rate spirals out of control. Because if God and His followers are chased out of town, what is left?

You can’t have clean streets without Christians, because in Berkeley Christians are like the burakumin in feudal Japan — they’re the only ones allowed to tan leather and pick up trash.

But when you obscure the sunshine, only darkness remains. Seal the windows, close the blinds, and what do you have? People alone in a pitch-black world, with nothing to shield or soothe them.

Sure Robin, but have tried it?  I don’t think you should criticize sitting alone in a sealed, dark room until you’ve really given it a chance.

Dr. Mike: Like Lemon Juice to a Paper Cut

Posted by scott on October 6th, 2010

As most any boy who’s grown up in America has learned, usually from the amplifying piehole of a doughy, red-faced, middle-aged Field Marshal-manqué shouting himself hoarse on the greensward of a Junior High athletic field, the best defense is a good offense; and nobody tries to be more offensive than the Unpromoted Professor, Dr. Mike Adams.

With five recent cases of gay teens who were bullied to death — and those are just the ones that have gained national attention; a lot of kids who are tormented for being gay never report it, even in a suicide note, because they haven’t, or can’t, come out to their families — Dr. Mike saw the chance to add insult to tragedy.  Because the problem with today’s bullies — even those who persecute other kids into an early grave — is their lack of follow through.

Many bullies take the death of their victim as a sign they’ve gone too far and should maybe back off; some, if they’re not complete sociopaths, might even experience flashes of horror and regret.  And this is precisely where Dr. Mike’s unique perspective comes in handy.   Why stop abusing your victim just because he’s dead?  What are you, a quitter?  Besides, it’s not like he can hit you back now, which makes attacking the dead almost as safe as Dr. Mike’s own preferred mode of single combat: writing slam books about imaginary lesbians.

Just Swastikas

Note: Dr. Adams will be speaking this Wednesday (October 6th) at UNC-Charlotte. The speech, which is free and open to the public, will start at 7 p.m. in the Student Union Theater.

Why is Dr. Mike speaking at UNC-Charlotte?  Well, because people at the school where he teaches, UNC-Wilmington, seem to be on to him.  Still, admission is free, which is a pretty good deal, considering Hitler charged his fans 35 pfennig a pop for the nosebleed seats at Nuremberg, and 5 reichsmarks for t-shirts and hats.

Plans for National Coming Out Day are going well all across North Carolina – especially at UNC-Charlotte (UNCC). Conservative students at UNCC are planning a Conservative Coming Out Day in response to National Coming Out Day.

I sympathize with closeted conservative youth.  It must be hard to tell your parents you’re an idiot, especially when they’re paying your tuition.

I will be there to offer a diverse perspective on an important issue that has been largely ignored on our nation’s campuses. My speech will highlight several pending cases, which show that homosexuals are not the principal victims of civil rights violations in this country. Instead, they are the principal perpetrators of civil rights violations in this country – especially on our college campuses.

The main problem with the “best defense is a good offense” philosophy seems to be the “good offense” part.  Claiming that gays (who, according to folks like Dr. Mike, are a teeny tiny percentage of the population) are somehow enforcing an apartheid regime on the straight majority is a tough sell, especially when each day seems to bring yet another depressing news story about iron-heeled gay teens driven to take their own lives by their taunting, violent victims.

Jim Crow ain’t what it used to be.

After my speech, there will be a reception where I will be asking that camouflaged cupcakes be served to all in attendance. I am asking the College Republicans to provide camouflaged cupcakes in order to highlight an interesting case that is developing at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI) where plans for National Coming Out Day are not proceeding very smoothly.

Dr. Mike, his nose to the wind, has sensed the pheromones of a fellow homophobe, and popped a bigot-boner.  As  nature intended.

City officials in Indianapolis are investigating a bakery that refused to take an order from an IUPUI student group seeking rainbow-colored cupcakes for their National Coming Out Day. A spokesman for Mayor Greg Ballard said city officials are conducting an investigation into a bakery, Just Cookies, which declined to take the order.

I trust Doghouse Riley will correct me if I’m mistaken, but I believe Mayor Ballard is a Republican, so if nothing else, the Cirque du Soleil-style contortions — even if merely rhetorical — should be entertaining.

After the so-called diversity group ordered the rainbow cupcakes Just Cookies co-owner David Stockton told them theirs was a family-run business. He also explained that he has two young, impressionable daughters and, therefore, thought it was best not to make the cupcakes.

Then the government got involved. “Whatever this gentleman’s personal views are, it cannot interfere with the providing of a service or allowing someone to buy their goods,” said an official of the local government.

That’s good to know. I’m sure some Nazi group would love to visit the local Jewish tailor and have him make them all Nazi uniforms. And the Jewish merchant should definitely be forced by the government to provide services to members of a political movement seeking to destroy him.

All I can say is, if you’ve hatched an evil scheme to destroy a baker by buying a large number of cupcakes from him, then you’re the crappiest Nazi since Colonel Klink.  Of course, neo-Nazis aren’t covered by the Indianapolis anti-discrimination ordinance, while LGBT people are, and the bakery rents space in a city-owned facility, so the government is kind of obliged to investigate allegations that one of its tenants is violating one of its laws.

Of course, comparing gays to Nazis is unfair to the Nazis. The Nazi party doesn’t have much of a presence on America. But the Gaystapo certainly does.

If only the Nazi Party had been as ruthless a perpetrator of civil rights violations as the gays, the Third Reich probably would have committed suicide after years of constant bullying by Jews.

In the wake of the IUPUI cupcake controversy, a student told a local Fox News station “I don’t want to topple anybody at all. I just think it’s important we ask ourselves and Just Cookies asks themselves why they made the statement, why they’re making these choices and how it’s ultimately affecting their business and the community as a whole.”

What an arrogant statement! Everyone knows that such behavior is dictated by an anti-gay gene. Homosexuals are not the only ones who can dodge criticism by making phony genetic arguments unsupported by evidence. I should know. I was born with the sarcasm gene.

And an extra chromosome.

Indianapolis city officials are working to determine whether the rainbow cupcake order was refused because the bakery couldn’t provide the desired product or because something else was at play. I can save them the time and money involved in any continuing investigation by telling them there is something else in play. That “something else” is called religious liberty.

I assume Dr. Mike will be standing strong with Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf as he rallies support for the construction of Park51.  Although perhaps the Professionally Plateaued Professor would prefer if they built the Muslim community center and mosque on city-owned land.  Makes a stronger First Amendment statement.

Our Founders fought to preserve religious expression, including freedom of conscience, because they knew it was vital to the preservation of our nation. They thought it was so important they put it in the Bill of Rights just before the parts about sodomy and abortion. Oh wait! There’s nothing in the Bill of Rights about sodomy and abortion. Sorry about that. It must be my sarcasm gene, which actually is capable of being passed on from generation to generation.

Unless, like Dr. Mike, you’re shooting blanks.

UPDATE: In comments, and over at his place, Doghouse Riley explains that, just like the Monster in Monster-A-Go-Go, “there was no cupcake.”

The Clod Couple

Posted by s.z. on October 3rd, 2010

BERJAYA
“Our First Guests Will Be Miss Ashley Alexandra Dupre and a Random Poor Person”

“On March 17, 2008, Eliot Spitzer was asked to remove himself from the governor’s mansion. That request came from the people of New York. Deep down, he knew they were wrong, but he also knew that someday he would return to the limelight. With nowhere else to go, he appeared at the home of his childhood friend, CNN. Sometime earlier, CNN became the lowest-rated cable news channel. Also sometime earlier, columnist Kathleen Parker, a notable twit, had won a Pulitzer Prize, apparently for her superhuman ability to see people without the lens of race, and her cheery knack for patronizing black people, gays, women, and other lesser beings. For that and other crimes against humanity, Wo’C had requested that she never return. So, CNN decided that smushing the two ninnies into one being called “ParkerSpitzer” was the way to win viewers and decrease the IQs of people everywhere. Can two annoying nonentities share the 8 p.m. news slot without driving me crazy?”

Too late! I already saw the promo where Kathleen says that Eliot is a politician and she is a “journalist,” and so wackiness is sure to ensue. (Dear CNN, if Kathleen is a journalist, then Scott and I are Marcel Proust. Please give us a prime-time spot in which we can chat about current events, deplore modern maners, and enjoy the favors of prostitutes.)

Anyway, I guess CNN has deduced that the big money isn’t in, you know, news, but in newstainment. Sure, they already have a sister channel, HLN, that features such explotationews stars as Jane “Buy my book about addiction” Valez- Mitchel and the “feisty” Nancy Grace (“All child-killers, all the time”), but I guess they needed to ramp it down another notch to compete with Fox News (“A wholly-owned subsidiary of the Republican Party and SatanCo”), and its “O’Relly Factor,” “The Glenn Beck Anti-Commie Comedy Hour,” and “Sarah Palin’s Seeing Other Countries for Dollars.”

So, anybody have any ideas for some other “news” programs for CNN, featuring clashing disgraced and/or third-tier “personalities”?

Here are mine. How about “Rappin’ ‘Bout Race, with Dr. Laura and Reverend Jeremiah Wright”? Or, “Billionaire Death Sports, featuring John Stossel and Paris Hilton (every week rich people are invited to hunt down and kill poor people for their pocket change, then the hosts make out for a while). Or what about, “BachmannTK,” a program wherein Michele Bachmann and the BTK serial killer discuss the issues of the day, and then bind, torture, and kill a CNN exec.

Feel free to add your programming ideas. They certainly can’t be any stupider than “ParkerSpitzer.”

Speaking Of Books…

Posted by scott on October 2nd, 2010

Dan and Tammy Domike, two of the most charming bibliophiles we know, have just opened their new indie book shop in the picturesque beach town of Hoquiam, WA:

(Jackson Street) Books on 7th
315 7th Street
Hoquiam, WA 98550
360-533-3157

They also fill orders through the interwebs, if you’re in a mood to support independent booksellers.

BERJAYA

And judging by this photo snapped earlier today by our friend Kelly, they stock Better Living Through Bad Movies.  (Sure, it’s probably a remaindered copy from 2006, but still, we’re touched and honored.)  Best of luck with the new place, guys!

Happy Birthday, Sting!

Posted by scott on October 2nd, 2010

BERJAYA Amazon offered the following party planning notion in an email yesterday, and if I had any doubts about who the online retailing giant likes better, me or Sting, this pretty much clears it up.  Still, I’m trying to take their suggestion in the spirit in which it was offered, but I can’t figure out how to virtually flip them off (I’m sure there’s an appropriate emoticon, but giving someone the finger digitally just seems redundant).  So instead of watching The Bride again (because, what with working on the sequel and all, we have fresh hells to visit), I thought I’d put on a little Kool and the Gang and just post our summary of it from Better Living Through Bad Movies.

The Bride (1985)
Directed by: Franc Roddam
Written by: Lloyd Fonvielle

Tagline:  ”A woman born of electricity…a man driven by passion!”

This film stars Sting, and is probably the best example you’ll ever find of Police brutality.

It’s a dark and stormy night.  Baron von Frankensting is sitting around his ancestral home, Schloss Kardboard Kutout, playing “Mousetrap!” with Quentin Crisp and a crash test dummy.  For some reason, the game causes Frankensting’s Monster to experience nocturnal emissions, so they pack it in and decide to electrocute Jennifer Beals instead.  True to the genre, a bolt of lightning succeeds in giving unholy life to her corpse, but it frizzes out her hair something awful.

The newly animated Jennifer loses a game of “Mystery Date,” and the Monster promptly arrives at the lab door to pick her up.  It seems that Frankensting is a sort of necrophiliac’s Chuck Woolery, but his matchmaking doesn’t go very well.  Rejected and emasculated, the Monster flees the castle and stumbles blindly into the forest, where he attends a John Bly workshop and attempts to get in touch with his inner corpse.

The Baron, we now learn, is a radical feminist who hopes to use Jennifer to create “the New Woman.”  Equal and assertive.  Fearless as a man.  Able to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan.

Frankensting sits by the fire, contemplating his utopia of sexual equality, when Jennifer toddles in stark naked, squats at his feet, and begins sucking her fingers.  The Baron reassesses his priorities.

Meanwhile, in a cave somewhere in the Alps, the Monster receives relationship counseling from a dwarf.

Frankensting gives Jennifer the Eliza Doolittle treatment, and her education progresses swiftly.  Soon she has learned to wear a hoop skirt and spin rapidly in a circle until she projectile vomits.  But somewhere in Bavaria, at that very same moment, the Monster becomes urpy, thus proving that there is a psychic link between the Baron’s two creations, or that the curried wurst the Monster had at Oktoberfest isn’t agreeing with him.

Frankensting takes Jennifer on a field trip to a mausoleum, and a pleasant time is had by all, picking through the loose femurs and ulnas.  But the Baron becomes insanely jealous over Jennifer’s infatuation with a rotting skull, and refuses to show her his bone.

By this point, Jennifer has become sufficiently refined that the Baron and Colonel Pickering decide to take her to the Embassy Ball, where she meets the extremely blond Cary Elwes, who is dressed in a Prussian Hussar’s uniform and looking slightly more Aryan than Beowulf.  Predictably, Frankensting becomes jealous of Cary’s skull, and runs off to hide in his secret fort and smoke crack.

Later, in an astonishing scientific breakthrough, the Baron invents glitter, and throws a party to celebrate.  But when he peeks into the master suite and finds Jennifer and Cary making out, he goes ballistic, because his parents are coming home soon and he told everybody to stay out of their bedroom.

Even later, Jennifer goes to Cary’s house, and in a tender, erotic scene, they strip down to see which one of them has the frilliest underwear.  This triggers the creatures’ psychic link, and the Monster, who lies chained and rotting in a dungeon somewhere, finds his nipples becoming perky.

All this talk of engorged nipples finally proves too much for the Baron, and he snaps, becoming so sexually abusive toward Jennifer that Louisiana Senator David Vitter tries to hire him as his chief of staff.  Suddenly, the Monster bursts into the room to rescue her, but has second thoughts when the Baron chases after him with a torch.  They run all over the castle in a weird, pyromaniacal Benny Hill sketch, until Frankensting, after several attempts, finally succeeds in falling off the tower.  And while the Baron’s death doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, it does answer a question the audience has been asking with increasingly impatience for the last 90 minutes:  Sting, where is thy Death?

As the superimposed face of a dwarf looks on and recites weird platitudes like Obi-Wan Kenobi, the two reanimated lovers go to Venice, where their rotting bodies cause a cholera epidemic that winds up killing Gustav von Aschenbach.  The End.

I Don’t Need To Spin. The Room Is Spinning!

Posted by scott on October 2nd, 2010

BERJAYAi09, which is the pop culture equivalent of a swollen breast dispensing milk to suckling geeks, has a piece on one of my favorite webcomics, Wonderella:

If Wonder Woman were crabby, selfish, and generally bad at her job, she’d be Wonderella, the boozy “heroine” of The Non-Adventures of Wonderella. She has mommy issues, tells dick jokes galore, rap battles Jesus Christ, and occasionally saves the day.

When you were a little kid, did you ever entertain the fleeting fantasy that your parents were secretly superheroes?  Me either, but this is basically what my mom would have been like if she’d hailed from Paradise Island.

Take a Billionaire to Lunch

Posted by s.z. on September 29th, 2010

BERJAYA

Hi, kids. Let’s check out Townhall and find out what Tea Party Command has on its mind today. (Yesterday’s topic was “We know that Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are having rallies in D.C. to make fun of us, and while we don’t want to appear to be humorless nuts by complaining about them, we HATE THEM SO MUCH for making fun of us.”)

Hmm, it seems that today’s theme is: “You should be HONORED to pay a billionaire’s taxes for him, after all he’s done for you. So, make the Bush tax cuts permanent, even unto the next life.”

Here’s John Stossel to explain it all to even the most ungrateful of Americans.

Taxing the Rich

Progressives want to raise taxes on individuals who make more than $200,000 a year because they say it’s wrong for the rich to be “given” more money.

Granted, it is wrong to give money to millionaire pan handlers (instead, give them half-eaten sandwiches or some toilet paper, as they will just use cash for hookers and drugs). But I have never heard anybody talking about taxes say that it’s wrong to give the rich more money. Instead, they say stuff like, “The richest 20% of Americans own 85% of all the wealth in America, but they pay only 72% of the taxes. If they were contributing their fair share, they would be paying at least 85% of the taxes, instead of passing on their tax burden to the middle class.” (I don’t know why Stossel got it so wrong — do you think maybe he doesn’t actually know any people, or is he just stupid?)

As I’ve said before, a tax cut is not a handout. It simply means government steals less. What progressives want to do is take money from some — by force — and spend it on others. It sounds less noble when plainly stated.

And what Stossel wants to is force the middle class pay more for the government and its services, a goverment that benefits the rich more than it does them. What Stossel wants is to make the middle class forget about college for their kids so that the rich can buy another private island or luxury yacht. What Stossel wants is for YOU to pay a larger portion of your income on taxes than he does, even though he makes millions for being a jerk, while you have to work for your money. It sounds really wrong and immoral when plainly stated.

But Stossel claims that the rich aren’t in it for the Impressionist paintings or the Ferraris — no, they do it all for YOU, by, um, creating jobs for art forgers or Ferrari mechanics. And if we don’t show our gratitude to the rich by giving them tax breaks, they will just pack up their billions and go home to their private islands, or take their luxury yachts to shack up with their money in Aruba. If you don’t believe Stossel, just ask the revered Donald Trump.

Donald Trump, who knows something about making money, says of course the rich will leave when hit with higher taxes. “I know these people,” he told me. “They’re international people. Whether they live here or live in a place like Switzerland doesn’t really matter to them.”

Personally, it doesn’t matter to me either where they live. But if they make money here or have money here, they should pay their fair share of taxes here. And since America offers a much better environment for making money (and not just hiding money) than does Swizerland, I doubt they will be leaving any time soon. So, I call your bluff, Mr. Trump and Mr. Stossel!

You haven’t left, I told him.

“I haven’t left yet. …

Hey, don’t let the door hit you on your way out, Donnie.

“Look, the rich people are going to leave. And other people are going to leave. You’re going to end up with lots of people that don’t produce. And then that’s the spiral. That’s the end.”

Can we afford to live in a country where nobody produces Trump towers or “The Apprentice”? Look deep into your soul, and then vote to increase Stossel’s income (a stupidity tax?) until he is forced to leave the country.

BERJAYA

Now, let’s hear from young Katie Pavlich, who screams Youth of America, Stop Drinking Obama’s Kool-Aid and instead start guzzling from the Townhall teats.

If America’s youth want any chance at having a stable economic future, free from total government control, I suggest they put down the Kool-Aid and start drinking some tea.

Those are your only choices, young people: Total Government Control or joining up with far-right nut jobs.

Katie is also here to speak up for oppressed and disadvantaged rich people, whom the President so cruelly defamed in a recent speech.

President Obama went on to slam big corporations and “rich” people while failing to mention that those evil people and corporations give recent college graduates jobs, a very rare thing this day in age.

College graduates finding employment is very rare “this day in age”? That is indeed troubling. I guess illegal immigrants from Mexico have stolen all the entry-level positions that the young people of other days in ages used to get, leaving today’s graduates no choice but to work for Evil, Inc. as an Assistant Editor (especially if their editing skills aren’t all that great).

Katie Pavlich, a May 2010 journalism graduate of the University of Arizona and former Townhall.com editorial intern, is Assistant Editor at Townhall.com.

But Katie does have statistics to support her claims about how rare it is for other recent college grads to find work.

According to the Economic Policies Institute, unemployment among people 16-24 years old is 18.9 percent

Personally, I will not rest until every 16-year-old has at least one full-time job, so that they can help pay the taxes of those billionaires who are counting on them.

But, hey, let’s look at Katie’s stats again: apparently over 80% of people 16-24 ARE employed. So, if Katie is telling the truth about how rare it is for college grads to get jobs, then once you graduate from MIT and turn 24, you are either fired or send to the Carousel from Logan’s Run, and then executed. And the news gets even worse!

. . . and on top of that, a majority of college graduates have been so discouraged looking for full employment that they have stopped looking altogether.

So, over 50% of college graduates not only don’t have jobs, they aren’t even looking anymore, due to clinical depression or something (their ennui undoubtedly caused by the knowledge that any day now Donald Trump will be fleeing the country, taking with him such jobs as “Toupee Maker For Dorks.” Things are much worse than I even imagined!

Youth fortunate to actually land a job after graduating may not have one on January 1, 2011, due to President Obama and Nancy Pelosi’s refusal to extend the Bush tax cuts, leading to the biggest tax hike in American history. More taxes equal less money to pay workers, especially in the middle of a recession.

Katie, if you had taken a job somewhere other than Evil, Inc. you might find that “More taxes equal less dividends for the share holders,” or “More taxes equal a million dollar pay cut for the CEO” or even “More taxes equal we fire a few Washington lobbyists.”

Without this tax-cut extension, employers will be forced to cut employees along with salaries, and lucky recent graduates will be first ones the chopping block.

Katie, is that what the Senior Editor told you? But here’s an idea you can pitch to the Town Hall Board: Instead of firing the recent grads who make the least, fire the senior employees, who make the most. That’s the evil thing to do. Or, just fire John Stossel, since he’s a douche bag.

Wit is the Soul of Brevity

Posted by scott on September 29th, 2010

BERJAYA

As you probably know, raconteur and ace commenter Jay B. hobnobs with (and occasionally pinch-hits for) the cream of snark society — your Tboggs, your Edrosos.  But even though he hangs with the habitués of the modern Algonquin Round Table, he’s not above visiting the Algonquin Kids Table, with our paper plates, folding chairs, and sippy cups of Hawaiian Punch, and very kindly invited me to a publishing event he helped put together in honor of the sublimely strange Awkward Two.

A book of weird, funny, and astonishingly short stories (the theme of the volume is “brevity”), Awkward Two is the second in the Awkward series from Awkward Press (the guy in charge of naming things at Awkward Press previously worked thinking up song and album titles for the group Talk Talk).  I haven’t read the book yet, but I heard several authors read from it last night, and saw a number of micro-movies adapted from the stories, and I’m recommending it on that basis.  It was richly wordy, subversively funny stuff that started off lightly, teasingly kissing your brain, then got overly aggressive and wouldn’t stop until it gave you a cerebral hickey.  Which, frankly, is just my kinda thing.

Awkward is available from Amazon, but if you order through their website they’ll throw in a DVD of the short films.  (Reportedly, the soon-to-be-available iPad version will come with the movies embedded in the text, but that strikes us as unholy sorcery.)

Random Scenes of Hollywood

Posted by scott on September 29th, 2010

Even if your doctors are baffled, there is hope.  Come to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital…

BERJAYA

…where you will enjoy the benefits of state-of-the-art medical technology and a skilled, caring staff, including world renowned diagnostician, It.

National Geographic Is A Gateway Drug!

Posted by scott on September 25th, 2010

You know that urban legend about an American tourist in Mexico who gets picked up by a prostitute, dosed with Rohypnol, and wakes up fourteen hours later in a bathtub full of ice?  The real shocker comes when he finds a card on the rim of the tub telling him that he’s now missing a kidney, and needs to get to the emergency room, because who takes the time to send a card anymore?  Nowadays you’re much more likely to get a Thank You email, or worse, a text, and taking the time to handwrite a card — especially in these difficult circumstances — just seems like a really thoughtful gesture.  I mean, most people I know, even my close friends and family, wouldn’t bother to send a traditional greeting card if they’d stolen one of my kidneys.  They’d probably leave a voice mail, or at best — if they got a good price for it on the transplant black market — they might splurge and send me one of those animated e-cards, which I’m not even sure would be appropriate in this situation.

BERJAYA

Anyway, the point is, what if nude, barely legal lesbians, and hunky guys with oily pecs were performing brain surgery on you when you least expected it?  You’d be miffed, right?  Well, according to Texas neurosurgeon Donald L. Hilton, Jr., MD, pornography is a game changing brain changer, and Cinemax is doing to America what the Ludovico Technique did to Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange.

SLAVE MASTER:  How Pornography Drugs & Changes Your Brain

Pornography is a visual pheromone, a powerful, $100 billion per year brain drug that is changing human sexuality by “inhibiting orientation” and “disrupting pre-mating communication between the sexes by permeating the atmosphere,” especially through the internet. I believe we are currently struggling in the war against pornography because many continue to believe two key fallacies:

Fallacy No. 1: Pornography is not a drug.

This is obviously a fallacy, since under Federal law, no pornographic film can be released to consumers before it’s first been tested on animals and approved by the FDA.  However, some critics maintain that if pornography were really a drug, there’d be more pictures on TMZ of Lindsay Lohan trying to snort a Hustler magazine.  Also, it’s harder than you’d think to cook a Realdoll in a spoon. But Dr. Hilton Jr., MD proves that pornography is so a pharmaceutical, by pointing out that the body produces adrenaline and dopamine, and yet both these substances can also be administered by physicians.  Similarly, the brain manufactures sexual fantasies, and yet Larry Flynt is allowed to sell you porn without first graduating from medical school.

Which raises another issue: Viagra is regulated as a drug, so why does the FDA still allow men to get erections without a prescription?

Let’s review some of the important components of the reward system of the brain. On the outside is the cerebral cortex, a layer of nerve cells that carry conscious, volitional thought. In the front, over the eyes, are the frontal lobes. These areas are important in judgment, and, if the brain were a car, the frontal lobes would be the brakes. These lobes have important connections to the pleasure pathways, so pleasure can be controlled.

This is explained more fully in Dr. Hilton Jr.’s book, Pleasure? Hit the Brakes!

It’s the overuse of the dopamine reward system that causes addiction…This resetting of the “pleasure thermostat” produces a “new normal.” In this addictive state, the person must act out in addiction to boost the dopamine to levels sufficient just to feel normal. As the desensitization of the reward circuits continues, stronger and stronger stimuli are required to boost the dopamine. In the case of narcotic addiction, the addicted person must increase the amount of the drug to get the same high. In pornography addiction, progressively more shocking images are required to stimulate the person.

Say you enjoy looking at pictures of women with big breasts.  At first you may be content with that Christina Hendricks spread in Esquire; but as your nucleus accumbens gradually becomes desensitized, you will be driven to seek out images of increasingly larger breasts — Lynda Carter in Bobby Jo and the Outlaw, Anita Ekberg in Call Me Bwana, Heidi Montag in various acts of desperation — until finally you’re incapable of feeling arousal except when watching that one scene from Woody Allen’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex with the monstrous, free-roaming tit. BERJAYA BERJAYA In the interests of dopamine conservation, the Department of Energy and Pornography recommends setting your pleasure thermostat at 68°F in winter.  But pornography, like a homeopathic Superfly, pushes other naturally occurring drugs on the brain too:

Oxytocin and vasopressin are important hormones in the brain with regard to physically performing sexually. Studies show that oxytocin is also important in increasing trust in humans, in emotional bonding between sexual mates, and in parental bonding. We are wired to bond to the object of our sexuality.

So porn can interfere with a parent’s natural desire to commit incest.

It is a good thing when this bonding occurs in a committed marriage relationship, but there is a dark side. When sexual gratification occurs in the context of pornography use, it can result in the formation of a virtual mistress of sorts. Dr. Victor Cline, in his essay, “Pornography’s Effects on Adult and Child,” describes this process as follows:

“In my experience as a sexual therapist, any individual who regularly masturbates to pornography is at risk of becoming, in time, a sexual addict, as well as conditioning himself into having a sexual deviancy and/or disturbing a bonded relationship with a spouse or girlfriend.A frequent side effect is that it also dramatically reduces their capacity to love (e.g., it results in a marked dissociation of sex from friendship, affection, caring, and other normal healthy emotions and traits which help marital relationships). Their sexual side becomes in a sense dehumanized. Many of them develop an ‘alien ego state’ (or dark side), whose core is antisocial lust devoid of most values.”

As we saw in the Star Wars prequels, Annakin Skywalker was led astray from the path of Light by fear and anger, but in the end he succumbed to the Dark Side — tragically, inevitably — only because he’d been jerking off to too much Twi’lek porn.

Let me use a fishing analogy to illustrate some of these concepts. Every August, if possible, I try to be on the Unalakleet River in Alaska fishing for silver salmon. We use a particular lure, a triple hook called the Blue Fox pixie. As fisherman know, it is important to keep the drag loose just after hooking the fish, when it still has a lot of fight. As the fish tires, though, we tighten the drag and increase the resistance. In this way the fish is reeled into the boat and netted.

This is just a guess, Doc, but if your wife has to hear this story every goddamn year, I bet she’d rather you just rub one out.

Why is it essential to understand the addictive nature of pornography?

Because you’ve got a book to sell?

Below you will find an Excerpt from his Donald L. Hilton’s book, “He restoreth My Soul”

“Most, if not all, families will be affected by pornography.

Really?  Most, if not all?  Well, I grew up in a family affected by addiction, and I’d have been thrilled if my mother had been hooked on porn instead of tranqs and vodka, if for no other reason than I would’ve felt much safer driving with her when she was under the influence of Coffee, Tea or Me? or Jacqueline Susanne’s The Love Machine.

If you are a man, you must first safeguard yourself.

Wear two wetsuits to bed, and insert a dildo to prevent porn from sneaking in the “back door” while you sleep.

If you are secretly involved, hopefully this work will convince you there will never be peace for you until you are healed. If you are free from addiction now, you must still guard yourself against future addiction, as all are vulnerable who are not “sober and vigilant,” as Peter warned. If you are a father, it is essential to understand what your sons will be exposed to and that he will be at serious risk for addiction at some point in his life. If you are a woman…

You’re safe, because women are immune to porn.  However…

please understand that this problem is real and must be confronted head on.

Apply porn directly to forehead.  That way it’s harder to masturbate to.  Unless you’re Carnac the Magnificient.

BERJAYA
“Three Men and a Little Labia.”

You also need to be aware of the profound risk your sons face.

One Guess Jeans ad and they’re hooked! But even though your daughters are born with natural porn anti-bodies, they will, like St. Damien of Molokai, daily walk amongst those with a horrible affliction…

studies are showing that the young men whom [your daughters] will date and consider for marriage have virtually all been exposed and many have been or are addicted, to a lesser or greater degree. It is imperative that every young woman understands the scope and seriousness of this problem. Her awareness will help her to be discerning in dating and eventually choosing a marriage partner. Our extended family members are also at risk: sons and daughters-in-law, grandchildren and their spouses, and other loved ones.

Cissy!  Junior!  Aunt Sadie!  Nana and Pop-Pop!  All furiously and constantly masturbating to porn!  Imagine the Walton home, but instead of each day ending with a sleepy but cheerful, “Good-night, Jim-Bob,” “Good-night Mary Ellen,” “Good-night, John-Boy,” you near nothing but low, feral grunts and the restless flipping of magazine pages.

Now, I take addiction seriously, I know it’s a problem that can destroy lives and families, still, this hysteria savors a bit of those 16mm anti-drug films they’d show us in school, where a Jackie Kennedy-like Junior Miss would take one reluctant puff of marijuana at a party, and two seconds later she was selling her body in the Negro part of town.  So after reading his 5000 word article, and lengthy excerpts from his book on porn-dependency,  I guess my question for Dr. Hilton is: how does an obsession differ from an addiction?

We’ll leave you now with this searing image:

If “sex is a river of fire,” dopamine and other brain drugs are the fuel. Like the astronauts of Apollo 11, we can ride this energy to the heavens, or be consumed in its exhaust, depending on whether we are above the engines in the command module or underneath them, thus exposed to the heat.

I think we can all agree, it’s better to ride the rocket.

Dr. Henry A. Bowman said, “No really intelligent person will burn a cathedral to fry an egg, even to satisfy a ravenous appetite,” yet the flamethrower of pornography is torching many cathedrals of marital, parental, and familial love today.

So watch where you point that thing.

P.S. the first commenter corroborates the good Doctor’s theories by citing the pioneering work of human sexuality expert Ted Bundy.