Friday, March 31, 2006

Tongues in Trees





Thursday, March 30, 2006

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused

Part 2 is Posted and Part 1 is Reposted In Case You Missed it Or Wish to Reread It Before Reading Part 2.

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused -- Part 1

Ben's note: Rory has been telling me bits and pieces of this damn story for years now intertwined with other vines in his overgrown memoir garden. Time for him to get on with the story. It's a true one. But he takes liberties with the truth whenever he damn well pleases, in my opinion. So, a good bout of dolphin waxing would be more productive than trying to sort out the bits that didn't happen from the bits that did. Bottom line: If Oprah were to call Rory a liar, he wouldn't give a shrew's scrotum. In fact, he'd kinda like it, I think.

Gonna try to get you a bit of Rory's rambles on Billy Ray maybe once a week 'til it's told. I'm sure he'll have trouble staying on point, wanna tell other stories, post on what runs in front of his nose, but we're gonna try. -- Ben

'Fuckin' A." -- Rory

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused (as told by Rory Shock) -- Part 1

A chimpanzee in Windtown, Kansas, killed her owner. Her name was Billy Ray and she was thought by the public to be a male. She made her living doing commercials for car dealer Cal Stokes (of he’s stokin'-up-a-deal-for-real fame) on television and in person, usually wearing a cowboy hat and a bright yellow windowpane suit with a bolo tie.

I’d seen Billy Ray in her yellow plaid suit, ten gallon hat, and bolo, on late night commercials. Every conceivable inane simian joke was used, every hackneyed human-concocted cliched chimp behavior mindlessly repeated. Like the one where Billy Ray was smoking a cigarette and Cal Stokes kept telling her to put it out before she got in the car, because Cal kept his “veehickels” smoke free. Seeing no evil, Billy Ray held her hands over her eyes when Cal approached a car with a machete to “slash” prices on a window sticker. She smiled an ape smile, with that only-chimps-have-it lip control, when Cal said “Nobody’s service is friendlier than ours.” She held her hands over her ears, hearing no evil, when Cal said he would give away any car on the lot if there was another car dealer with a friendlier Chimp in Windtown. She did a forward roll when prices were “tumbling.” She held her hands over her mouth, speaking no evil, when Cal asked her who was the best dealer in the Midwest. Cal chided her for “monkeying around,” when she was no more a monkey and no less an ape than he. But she wrote her own script and avoided cliche when she snatched him bald one night, tearing his scalp off with the swipe of one mighty hand. She pulled his right index and middle fingers off. They were found on the kitchen floor. She broke his neck by throwing him across the room by the head. Even an average-sized female chimp like Billy Ray is as strong as a 750-pound man made of muscle.

I got to represent Billy Ray because I’d been the lawyer for a local university student, Molly Chandler, who had freed the rats from the laboratory breeding ranch up on campus. Molly was surprised to meet up with a lawyer who had read Animal Liberation by Peter Singer. I told her that since I had seen Roger Fouts on 20/20 with Hugh Downs meeting his old chimp friend Bouie after so many years and Bouie remembered his nickname in American Sign Language, I’d been thinkin about how fucked up it is that chimps, many of whom served honorably in the space program and other scientific enterprises, face torture, both physical and psychological, despite being neither enemy combatants nor criminals. I mentioned some of my favorite books, like Jane Goodall’s In the Shadow of Man, DeWaal’s Peacemaking Among Primates, The Great Ape Project, and Visions of Caliban. I told her that Jane Goodall was one of my heroes, actually the only one I could think of at that moment. She told me that she had met Jane Goodall after a speech and had an autographed copy of Through a Window. Anyway, she trusted me and I’d kept her out of jail on the rat bit. She had a patron that wanted to pay fees and expenses to keep them from executing Billy Ray at all, let alone without due process of law. So she called me. She told me that Billy Ray was being held without bail, so to speak, in an old cage at the Windtown Zoo. The cage had actually been the home of a long-suffering polar bear who expired during a Kansas heat wave, I think is what I was told. The government’s plan was to give Billy Ray a lethal injection. So we had to act quickly. I became her lawyer.

I got a temporary injunction that gave us 10 days to file briefs and have a hearing for an extension. In the meantime, I learned that the case had been assigned to a Judge by the name of Alan Wrench. I shit you not. I’d never had any dealings with him before, so I called a friend who had. Friend of the name Mendicant Friar. Again, I shit you not. I recall that conversation so clearly.

So, I’d told Mendi to whom the case was assigned. He said, “Brother, that Judge is a fucking Pentecostal. He comes from southwestern Missouri.”

“Meth labs in beatup trailers and holy rollers,” I responded. We all have our unfair biases and preconceptions. That’s what makes us human. Actually I pretty much can’t say those things about “that’s what makes us human” too much anymore after the Billy Ray case without thinking it’s bullshit.

“Yep. Seems his father was a minister or pastor or whatever the fuck they call their preachers.”

[Ben's note: Rory is about to say words that show a lack of respect for something venerated by others: a particular religion. I told him that we were gonna lose our Pentecostal readership. He laughed and slapped his thigh at that one. And I said to him, “probably, if and when Billy Ray ever comes out in print, there’ll be a burnin’ party.” He responded like he often says but doesn’t entirely mean, “Fuckit. I don’t care.” Actually, he seemed quite pleased at the burning book vision.]

“Mendi, I looked into this Pentecostal thing back when John Asscrapt became Attorney General, more or less just out of curiosity, because he was one. I learned that those are the fuckers that have Lord seizures, jabber nonsense, speak in tongues, whatever.
What the fuck is the theory there? The words of god are gibberish? God loves morons? Man, they don’t dance. They don’t drink. They think gay people are evil. Generally, they love the death penalty and would happily give it to you if you’re a doctor who removed a thimbleful of nonsentient flesh from a 13 year-old fucked by Uncle Biff.”

“Yeah, Rory, and it doesn’t matter what you do all life long. You can rape, cornhole babies, steal widow’s life savings, cut throats, beat your wife black and blue, torch your friend’s double-wide, waste a cop, and publicly unrinate on a daily basis and still be forgiven and walk into heaven happy, pampered, eternally blissful. Even if you spend a life trying to alleviate pain instead of spreading it, if you don’t accept Jesus into your life by the time you take your last breath you go to some fucking cliched version of hell where there is brimstone and fire and all sorts of shit like that.”

“Well, Mendi, let me guess what they think about animals.”

“Book of fuckin’ Genesis.”

“That’d be the God-put-em-here-for-us-to-do-whatever-the-fuck-we-want-with-the-story. Hunt, eat, skin, wear, and I suppose in modern times, experiment upon. But where the fuck do they stand on bestiality?”

“That’s pretty much ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“So, you can fuck chickens all your life long as long as you accept Jesus before you die. ... that certainly stands to reason if you can fuck children and still go to heaven, then you ought to be able to fuck, pluck, roast and eat fowl and enter the white cloud Hollywood biblical land of milk and honey. So, anyway, you’re not gonna believe this Mendi, I’ve got case in front of him involving whether a chimpanzee is legally a person.”

“Fuck, you’ve got that case? I saw something about it on the news.”

“I’m a little concerned about his views on evolution and genetics.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Mendi, I assume he’s a fucking creationist. So, what’s he gonna make outta the fact that we’ve got almost 99 percent of the same DNA as chimps?”

“Maybe that 99% just won’t do. God put the chimp here as a lesson to man. As an advertising mascot for the depilation industry, which is still growing. As an amusement because they do seem similar. Or maybe god put ‘em here for experimentation and 99% the same DNA makes them excellent research subjects for human diseases? Somethin’ like that.”

“Yeah.”

After we hung up, I thought to myself, Pentecostal, hmm. Guess I better learn up real good on them uns. Know thine enemy. Understand your adversary. Knowledge is power. Face the source of you anxiety. Like that. so I do what you do nowadays. I get on the web.

Before too long, I am growing disturbed. Among other things I find this explanation of the significance of the holy jabber known as speaking in tongues -- glossolia -- in the official doctrine of the United Pentecostal Church:

“The tongue provides the greatest expressions of the human spirit. We humans are spiritual and emotional beings, and as such we must give expression to our emotions. The ability and power to coordinate thought and tongue into intelligent speech is one of our highest prerogatives, elevating us above the beasts of the field. This ability makes us superior to the rest of God's creation on earth, and it is the most distinguishing feature of our being.

The tongue becomes the vehicle of expression for the spirit.
All of the emotions--such as love, hate, anger, sorrow, joy, happiness, relief, serenity--are communicated through the tongue. The tongue is the gate way to the heart, feelings, attitudes, and spirit.”

Holy shit! I think to myself, here’s one argument I’m gonna hear from the other side, I’ll bet. Chimps don’t “coordinate thought and tongue into intelligent speech.” What about humans who don’t do this, of which there are plenty, I wonder. Are sign-language users unholy, nonpersons under this frickin' Pentecostalism? Can you speak in tongues with your fingers? Can a chimp speak in tongues? What if I can convince the Judge that Chimp chatter is really just God taking control of the Chimp tongue? Maybe I can find an expert who will testify that Chimp chatter can be glossolia. And here it is again this pervasive human fucking arrogance that we are “superior to the rest of God’s creation on earth.” Well superior in the sense that we can dominate any creature and kill any creature, anyway. My head is already spinning. But then I’m a little bit happy, because I realize that I have another overgrown trail of learning to hack through: I must study Chimp language experiments. Shit, I must go even further. I must try to communicate with my client. I must get to know her. Who is she? And, needless to say, I must find out why she killed Cal.

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused -- Part 2

Billy Ray: A Chimp Accused
As told by Rory Shock

Part 2

Things began badly with Hon. Allen Wrench, shortly after we announced our appearances for the Court.
JUDGE WRENCH: Court calls the case captioned In re: Billy Ray, A Person of the Species, Pan troglodytes.
RORY SHOCK: May it please the court, Rory shock for the accused, Billy Ray.
DICK DORK: For State, Dick Dork [he pronounces it “Dirk”], and I object to the animal in question being called the “accused” and I strenuously object to the case caption calling this animal a “person.” He is not a human being.
JUDGE WRENCH: I tend to agree, Mr. Dork. Mr. Shock, what do you say? If we consider your monkey to have the rights of a person, what’ll be next?
RORY: I’m not sure what you mean, Judge, about “what’ll be next?” And it seems to me that “person” in the legal realm doesn’t necessarily mean what we call a human. Corporations are “persons” under the law. I think Billy Ray is a whole lot more of a person than say Union Carbide or Dow Chemical or Ford Motor --- [interrupted by Wrench]
JUDGE: Let me tell you then. Next you’ll be asking me to declare dogs and cats people. You could probably find yourself even more people that’d support that one than this monkey that killed a respected citizen. Killed a PERSON. Next it’ll be cows. Then lab rats. I know you know something about that now, don’t you, Mr. Shock? Open the floodgates to all sorts of frivolous litigation, that’s what you’re asking me to do here. I’m not gonna step onto a slippery slope here.
RORY THINKS TO HIMSELF: What is it with judges and bureaucrats and floodgates. I wonder how many of them have even seen a damn floodgate. How many could describe what one looks like? Usually, in their minds it’s prisoners, or people on welfare, or people accused of crime that are building up behind the dam, hoping to come throuth the ‘floodgates”. The downtrodden as excess water. But floods do a lot of property damage. You can’t even get insurance against floods most of the time. They never seem to fear floods of prosecutions for petty drug offenses. That’s because the human water that flows as a result of such prosecutions is channeled into reservoirs and backwaters known as prisons where it gathers never to be seen again by Judges such as Wrench.
RORY: Judge, I have two things to say that come to mind right away: The case before you today only involves a chimpanzee. You need, indeed MUST, only concern yourself with this specific case. There are many reasons why the case of a chimp is more compelling than say the case of a mouse. Genetic similarity for one thing. Secondly, I am not familiar with any case that establishes a rule of law that says if the court fears opening the floodgates then doing what is otherwise right should not be done. Nor is there any statute to that effect. Nor any case law that I know of. Floodgates, slippery slopes, level playing fields, these cliches are all distractors. None of them is a rule of law
JUDGE: That is an arrogant stance Mr. Shock. Are you trying to dictate the Court’s vocabulary?

[There was a pause and a look to the side by Wrench as he perhaps remembered arguments I’d had in front of the Judge in the Courtroom next door about my vocabulary in a human death penalty case. The memory must have been richocheting around his brain, fragmenting when it struck the tangled bundles and dense plaques of Alzheimer’s nobody yet knew he had within his neurons.]

RORY: No, your honor, I’m just doing my best to make the court recognize what the law is.
JUDGE: Now, that IS arrogant. You come into my courtroom trying to tell me what the law is and I read your papers, you don’t have a single case to cite to me where a chimpanzee has been determined to be roughly the equivalent to a person let alone to be entitled to a jury, as you demand. And how would you get a jury of peers?
RORY: In many ways it’s a case of first impression. As a result, no case on point. But cases of first impression need to be heard too. Regarding your question about a jury of peers, Judge, we all know that that term is largely myth anyway. For example, a so-called retarded person does not get a jury of retarded persons -- and incidentally, Billy Ray is higher functioning that many retarded humans in many ways. A schizophrenic does not get a jury of schizophrenics. A billionaire does not get a jury of billionaires [or ever get tried I think to myself].
JUDGE: That’s more than enough. Now, I will hear arguments why this violent killer monkey should not be put down like a mad dog before sunset this very day.
RORY: Your Honor, I respectfully request that you refer to my client Billy Ray by her name, as “Mr. Shock’s client,” as “the accused,” as “the petitioner,” or if she must be referred to by some generic species-related reference, as an “ape,” or even better yet, as what she is in human terms: a chimpanzee. She is an ape, just as a bonobo is an ape, a human is an ape, an Orangutan is an ape, a Gorilla is an ape, and you and I are apes. A chimpanzee is no more a monkey than is Mr. Dork or myself.
[rory confesses that he knew the comparisons between apes, monkeys and the humans present in the courtroom would chap his honor’s big white wrinkled pentecostal ass bigtime. But I figured he couldn’t really come down on me because I’d thrown myself in. Anyway rory’s plan was to piss him off so badly that he’d “get recused” as they say].
JUDGE: Let’s get on with this Mr. Shock.
RORY: I am requesting a stay of proceedings of 60 days in order to investigate the factual background, your Honor. I need to investigate the character and background of Billy Ray, in essence. The relationship between Billy Ray and Mr. Stokes. Her behavioral history. The events leading up to the death. Whether there is a case for self-defense. Whether there are mitigating circumstances. There is no more reason to presume Billy Ray guilty in this case than to presume the defendant down the hall guilty in the misdemeanor trespass case being tried there. I need the time to contact and retain experts on the key issue of whether Billy Ray is a person. A person is entitled to a jury trial. To the presumption of innocence. To make those who wish to kill her bear the burden of proof. To present evidence. To testify. Mr. Dork does want to killy Billy Ray.
DORK: I object. I don’t want to kill Billy Ray. I want the zoo to euthanize the animal. Your Honor, this is completely absurd. This is madness. Mr. Shock is in this courtroom talking about a chimp testifying and having a jury trial.
RORY: Look, your Honor, I’m just asking for a chance to fully present what needs to be presented. For a moment, and I’m not conceding Billy Ray’s rights to be treated as a person in making this argument, for a moment, think of her as someone’s dog before the statute on dog bites was passed. Every dog got one bite. No liability on the part of the dog’s owner. No mandatory death for the dog. Well, back to a point made by his Honor earlier. There’s no law here, no statute on chimps. As a result, a chimp should be entitled to “one bite.” One violent action should not result in mandatory death. But even more importantly, look at the dog bite statute itself. It makes an exception if the dog was being teased, tormented or abused when it bit. I have reason to believe that Billy Ray was indeed abused.
DORK: I object your Honor, I can’t imagine how he can make that claim. That chimp was well-fed. It always looked happy in the commercials, always a smile on its face. It lived at home with Mr. Stokes. And we’re not talkin’ about a bite. We’re talking about a brutal murder. [rory thinkz: so many humans suck at reading faces. “Civilized” humans have to study books on body language. ]

RORY: Mr. Dork now appears to be conceding that Billy Ray is indeed a person. He just referred to the accusation against her as “murder.” Only a person can murder another person. At least in this century. And your Honor, here’s a perfect example of why we need time and some expert evidence. Mr. Dork says Billy Ray looked happy. He is incorrect. He does not know what a happy chimp looks like. He is interpreting grimaces of stress, of submission, of fear even, as happy smiles. If she were looking scared during the commercials, perhaps she had reason to be scared. If nothing else, I ask the court to give us time and the power to investigate what she had to be scared of. I submit that in all likelihood, Mr. Stokes was brutalizing Billy Ray. Judge, let me add, that there is nothing to lose by delaying. The zoo has no problem with keeping Billy Ray there. Attendance is up with the publicity around her case. Donors are standing in line to pay any costs of her incarceration. Mr. Stokes is already dead. She has no motivation to kill anyone else. Nobody at the zoo is going to treat her in an abusive way. Therefore no reason to kill again. She is a prisoner, a capitve. Secure as any death row inmate in any prison anywhere.
DORK: I object! Mr. Stokes is dead. There is no reason to cast unfounded aspersions on a dead citizen. Mr. Stokes was a respected man. A Rotarian. An active member of his church. A man with no record of violence or misconduct.
[rory sez: turns out the church thing didn’t carry weight with Judge Wrench, seeing as how Stokes was Catholic and non-Catholic fundy jesus freakers think the Catholics are frickin’ idol worshippers] Well, your Honor, we want to contact experts of our own if we aren’t going to be allowed to put this animal down right away. I concede that the zoo has said it has no problem keeping the monkey. This is almost a theological question more than a legal question before the court. [right on rory thinks ... play that ecclesiastical court card mofo ... that’ll make the judge wanna keep this case.] But in the meantime, I acknowledge that there is little burden to the State in maintaining this beast as a captive for a little bit longer. [rory figured it might work out this way. Dork wanted to appear strongly in favor of execution to please his bible-thumpin’-anti-animal-rights-voters-without knowing-jack-shit-about-what-they-mean-voting-base while getting more pubilicity than ever. It was a frickin’ election year for Dork. This alone might buy us time rory thought to himself.]
Judge, for one thing we are thinking of contacting Mr. DeWaal, mentioned by Mr. Shock in his filings with the court. Let me read you a little quote from Mr. Shock’s DeWaal:
‘"The animal rights movement's outrageous parallel with the abolition of slavery - apart from being insulting - is morally flawed," de Waal wrote in the New York Times in 1999. "Slaves can and should become full members of society, animals cannot and will not." Six years on, he says, he has nothing to add to that.’
Judge, having a trial, a right to have one’s life protected by judicial system is only something that belongs to full members of society. To people. If they had a right to judicial protection, don’t you think they would have developed their own courts, your Honor? They don’t have courts, they don’t have churches, they don’t have mass media, they don’t apply cosmetics, or read the Bible. Judge, they are not people. That being said, the prosecution has no objection to a continuance of this case and will sign off on an order for a continuance if Mr. Shock will prepare one for the Court’s approval [Dork said as he looked about the courtroom and saw the front row filled with reporters. Fuckin’ A rory thinkz, maybe the Judge will be gettin’ off on the publicity as well.]
JUDGE: I am inclined to think that a continuance is in order then. Although the Court has serious doubts about what if anything Mr. Shock can present that will suggest that this murdering monkey should not be put down like mad dog. Mr. Dork’s points being well taken. I mean, I have not seen any monkeys sitting in my church lately. Isn’t belief in God, the ability to take the oath, or the affirmation, at least in the case of atheists, whom this country being a free democratic god-founded nation, is merciful toward, a prerequisite to having rights in Court? Adjourned.
[rory thinks: ‘yeah, right judge, that’s why you ruled against pulling the plug on that brain dead guy a couple years back, ‘cause he had no rights in court. Dude didn’t know an oath from the catheter in his dong of which he was fortunately completely unaware. I don’t think his frickin’ “IQ” was anywhere near Billy Ray’s you stupid fucker.’ Then rory heads out and has a memory flash. Memory flashes are frickin’ incredible. A whole scene, images, dialogue, the point of the scene itsself, all bursting across the cranial sky in an instant like the Phoenix and Birds. To see what phoenix and birds looks like in the real sky go to:

nova fireworks gallery

Rory’s memory flash was from another courtroom on another day. It was prompted by the fleeting and silly thought: “What separates humans from ‘the animals’ is that humans shave their balls." Sorry ladies, I know plenty of you do plenty of shaving, indeed pioneered the non-facial shaving thing in North America, but it was the shaving the balls thought that popped into Rory’s male head, okay? Okay, and it should be modified further to “some” humans, but it was the beginning of a memory flash so the qualification was completely unnecessary.

The case which was the source of the memory flash involved a guy, Danny Dean Priest, who was accused of a heinous rape and murder, or as Mr. Dork liked to pronounce it “heeni-us.” One piece of evidence the government thought they had against Priest was that he had shaved his balls. Their theory was that he had shorn the sac to avoid leaving telltale hairs that could convict him. Course, the head, the belly, the pits, and the rest of the body, drop plenty of hairs all the time, so why, short of imbecility, which is always a distinct possibility any time a crime is committed, why would someone just shave their balls to avoid leaving evidence? Anyhoo, shortly after the dude’s arrest, detectives had photographed his balls and run their fingers over them, presumably doing a digital stubble evaluation of some sort. And a snippet of trial transcript from the Danny Dean Priest case flashed back through my head;
PROSECUTOR: Now, Agent Locknut, Mr. Shock asked you about palpitating [sic]the scrotum of the defendant. [Still cracks me up that he kept saying “palpitating,” when palpating was the word. Palpitating is what his frickin’ heart was doin’.] You recall that?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Yes, I do.
PROSECUTOR: And again, as you said, you tried to do this in the least intrusive manner. Could you, uh, sort of demonstrate for the Court , uh, em, uh, um, how you palpitated that particular part of the anatomy?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Well, it was like this. [He motioned like one gently stroking a cat’s gullet. Red blood rapidly crept over his collar, up his neck and across his bald pate. He brought to mind a huge rectal thermometer held in a candle flame]. I did it to see how clean shaven the area was. I thought if he was real clean shaven then he might have shaved recently before the incident.
PROSECUTOR: And what would the significance of that have been?
AGENT LOCKNUT: Well, if he shaved before, then he was probably shaving himself so that he would not leave evidence. (I would have objected to this as “speculation” had it been before a jury or a different judge, most likely.)
DANNY DEAN PRIEST: He pulls my sleeve, passes wind most foul, and “whispers” in a horse voice even the judge can hear. “Aren’t you gonna object? I been shavin’ my balls for years, ever since I got outta the service. Got nothin’ to do with no evidence. Just simple pleasure. I swear to God, Mr. Shock. That ain’t right what he said. Son of a bitch. That ain’t true. Ain’t he supposed to be under the oath?”
RORY TO DANNY DEAN: “Yeah, but his guy has got “perjury” inside a heart with an arrow through it tattooed across his ass. I believe you. Plenty of people like to shave their balls. Guess he never tried it. Ball shaving was something about which I hadn’t really thought much at that time, despite my matter-fact-seeming-to-know-all-about-it demeanor meant to reassure Danny Dean.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He managed a knowing smile before apparently disassociating for awhile. At least I surmise that he disassociated, because he was staring up at the corner of the courtroom while shaking his head slightly and picking his nose. I was pretty sure it was not an etiquette thing. More a disassociation thing. And I had learned long before that day that while the client may not have a “legal point” about which he becomes upset, little discrepancies can bother the fuck out of him. It must be disturbing to have the so-called roceedings turn into a shoddy work of fiction created by law enforcement agents and prosecutors when you know the truth. Oh, and by the way, this guy had confessed to the crime. Yet he later told me that he might want to take the stand just to set the record straight about why he had shaved his balls! This and other things let me to believe that the dude might be less than “competent,” but legal competency is often determined by correspondence school prison shrinks from Malaysia who harbor odd beliefs about things such as writing sponataneously appearing on walls, perhaps written by netherworld spirits, which some of us might consider graffiti.

All of this blappity! through Rory’s mind as he walked out of the courtroom. And as I walked out, that was the first time I saw Sage, as I now call him. Earnest Sagegrouse.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Ten Reasons Why the Pope Sucks Pretty Much as Badly as George W. Frickin' Bush

Because of a voting deadlock during the last meeting of BEPWAC, the Pope & W Share the first annual roryshock Spreading-Suffering-While-Unleashing-Sanctimonious-Fantastical-Blather-of-Justification-from-Oral-Sphincter-Award.



But this post is really about the Pope. Before rory gets to the list of reasons why the Pope sux, here's a little warmup for the the raucous synapse crowd in your brain bistros me friends. A little opening entertainment just to get you into the proper Pope respectin' mood:










rory thinkz the pope sucks because:

1. His official policies stubbornly deny women equal rights and treat them as inferior, second-class citizens, despite there being no rational reason in the 21st century for women being denied any rights, jobs, or status attainable by men.

2. He convinces gullible people worldwide to add to the disastrous problem of world overpopulation, teaching them that the only reason they may engage in sex is to “procreate.”

3. He heads an organization that is against abortion for any reason.

4. He condemns sterilization as equally reprehensible as abortion, again despite the world population disaster.

5. He is against distribution of condoms as a palliative in the African Aids Crisis.

6. He is against birth control of any kind whatsoever and condemns “any action which either before, at the moment of, or after sexual intercourse, is specifically intended to prevent procreation.”

7. He does everything in his power to forbid adoption of suffering children by well-adjusted, financially capable gay parents.

8. He pushes a homophobic, anti-gay agenda that hurts many people.

9. He directed catholics to vote for George W. Bush in the 2004 elections and helped to ensure the continuation of the clusterfuck in Iraq because he felt that John Kerry was not godly on the issue of abortion.

10. His insane medieval, fantasy-based policies are listened to by billions of people and are instrumental in perpetuating unnecessary suffering on a mind-blowing scale.





rory sez: the chicken was not wasted. it was consumed by raccoons and bacteria, returning to the earth in other forms. rory officially disapproves of using dead animals for entertainment purposes. the chicken probably lived a miserable life in a cage with many other chickens. it probably had its beak cut off by a hot wire. it truly suffered like Jesus before its death. crucifixion is in some ways fitting. nevertheless, remember, rory is merely documenting the secret acts of w, as more fully explained in the previous post about the Crawford Texas killing fields. for those who think crucifying a store-bought, partial fowl carcass is disrespectful, well, what do you expect from w bush? voice in head: "rory? are you confusing fiction and reality here in this paragraph." rory replyz: fuckin' A, but only a little.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Story in the Snow

In a pine grove a vole tunneled through the snow last January. In some places a barely discernable ridge raised the snow’s surface like a scar. In places behind the tiny rodent, the arch of the tunnel roof collapsed leaving a diminutive trench. Tunnel and trench drawn by rodent back beneath the snow marked the trail. Moving end marked moving life. Even a human eye could have seen life traveling under cold white snow carpeting soft layers of pine needles. Suddenly talons pierced the soft rodent skin. Vole became sustenance for bird. Snow and vegetation litter became a talon-drawn picture of momentary chaos. A quarter thimble of crimson blood spotted the white. And the primary wing feathers, the flight fingers, recorded the moments when the great bird of prey, the Great Horned Owl, touched the bottom of the sky. Within a day the air warmed. Snow evaporated, memories of wings lifting, every molecule ascending, feathers in the wind.




Sunday, March 26, 2006

Vaccine for Imaginary Bird Flu Pandemic to be ready by 2009 -- Fear Levels Rise Despite Lack of Danger

Well the fear mongers, bullshit artists, and science-ignoring bastards are afoot. Secretary of we-don't-need-no-education Margaret (I’m from Texas directed W’s 1994 gubernatorial campaign and ‘authored’ the no child left behind law) Spellings is speechifying school officials with visions of schools being closed, becoming quarantine internment camps, and transforming into “make-shift hospitals” or “vaccine sites.”
Mike Leavitt, Health and Human Services Secretary, is blathering about a fantasy scenario in which 92,000,000 people in N.A. come down with H5N1, despite this being impossible. Snortin’ Gale Norton is takin’ questions at the Whitehouse website. Homeland Security is talking about bird flu preparedness. And meanwhile, the scientific evidence shows that the H5N1 virus is next to impossible to transmit from human to human, a prerequisite for a human pandemic. rory asks: Has the whole fuckin’ world gone mad? Approximately .3 out of the more than 6 billion people on the spinnin’ rock died in the last 24 hours from bird flu. Recall from Rory’s recent post that well over 5000 died worldwide from diarrheal disease in the last 24. More people are dying from fucking autoerotic asphyxiation than from bird flu. But it's whole lot easier to prepare for the impossible pandemic than to get ready for some shit that's really gonna go down. I mean, it's pretty hard to fuckin' appear to fail, innit? Unless a lotta people happened to notice the waste of billions of bux on useless shit, like vaccines for non-existent pandemics that won't be ready until even the fantasy scenarios have played out. But people noticin' -- that ain't likely. More likely sales of bird flu preparedness kits are gonna remain strong. rory sez: I dunno bout you, but I'm just as fuckin' ready as I ever wanna be for the old H5N1. Bring it on mofo!





  • Research Shows Avian Flu Pandemic a Fantasy


  • Vaccine for Imaginary Pandemic Might be Ready by 2009


  • Mike Leavitt's Delusional Scenario


  • Spellings Spreads Fantasy Fear
  • Saturday, March 25, 2006

    Time for a cup of tea with chairperson of the BEPWAC



    rory's gonna enjoy a little tea and sympathy. ain't she pretty?

    Bush administration's use of laughable progaganda placards produced by private contractor increases as ratings drop

    Presidential propaganda graphics have been outsourced at a cost of 24 million dollars to a fledging marketing firm run by Harold Hose IV, a recent Yale graduate, whose father Harry Hose III, has been a major Rebuplican party contributor for several decades. Here are a few examples of some recent Hose jobs:




    rory sez: don't forget to click to enlarge for a better look at the shitty placard:








    Cheney's scrotum torn during rough love session with hooker. President asks nation to pray for speedy recovery.

    Can it be a mere cosmic coincidence, or is there really some god-like force of justice after all? There's been heavy coverage of Dick Cheney's list of must-haves when he checks into a hotel. Granted, it's an expurgated version. For example, no mention that he likes an individually wrapped, soothing hemorrhoidal wipe of a specified brand laid out on the pillow precisely 7 centimeters from the mint. The list leaked was intended for public consumption. Also note the absence of alcoholic beverages. The dude likes his bar very well-stocked. No mention of his demand for multiple premium porn channels. Not a whisper about the sixpack of disposable enemas that he likes. And for some reason, "hooker," got left off the list of his usual travel amenities. rory sez: gonna be a long time now before dick seeks those services again.



    Dorito Lovincheeks, the Madam, said, "Well, maybe it wasn't the same Harry Whittington, how would I know, but the guy who paid us for this girl said his name was Harry Whittington, and he said the man wanted a big mamma, and he'd pay extra if she was really, really rough, with good strong teeth, and he kept saying 'You know what I mean, when I say big strong teeth?'"

    Rear Admiral Charles "Chilito" Numnutz, NSA shadow director, advised that the videos of the session have been seized by the NSA and are being held in a secure facility. Numnutz said he has reviewed the tapes himself and says the vice president did nothing to provoke the attack.

    Harry Whittington denies anything to do with this. "I repeat, it was my fault that Dick shot me. If anything, being peppered in the face strengthened the bond between myself and Dick. Revenge is the furthest thing from my mind. I'm sure it was just a mixup with the whore. Dick usually gets a real gentle gal, you know. Got that pacemaker and all."

    Prezdent Bush said: "I ask the nation to join me in prayer for the Vice President's speedy recovery. Dick Cheney has my full and unwavering support. I know this is a difficult time for him and for his family. We just thank the good lord this didn't turn out worse. I have asked the press not to cover this. Because with freedom comes responsiblity, the responsibility to say nothing that I don't want them to say."

    The call girl, whose name is being withheld for national security reasons, is in custody at an undisclosed location, without charges, being held as an "enemy combatant." Numnutz says: "We're fairly comfortable in saying that tearing the vice president's scrotum off with your teeth is an act of terrorism, a violent destructive, senseless act meant to influence governmental policy."

    Donald Rumsfeld lambasted bloggers for blogging about this incident. "The real problem here is not the vice president seeking the services of what turned out, in an unforeseen, foreseeably, unforeseeable way to be a very violent, senselessly violent woman, the real problem is the perception of the vice president being created by bloggers. "

    rory sez:



    Because sometimes that's all there is to say.

    Thursday, March 23, 2006

    rory calls for immediate complete withdrawal from U.S. highways: death toll unacceptible in a free nation allegedly at peace with itself





    Well leaving that question aside for the moment [and please no smartass comments about rory's drawing], how ‘bout some frickin’ stats people? Every day 120 people die violent deaths on the highways of the United States. Our vehicles are roadway bombs, improvised killing devices, weapons o' mass deestruction. The casualty rates are staggering. 47,200 died violently in 2005.
    That’s close to the killed in action total for U.S. troops over the entire course of the Viet Nam war. Only takes about 20 days for the death toll to reach the total number of U.S. service people killed in Iraq over the whole course of that clusterfuck so far. Disabling injuries in 2005? 2.45 million of ‘em. The cost in dollars of the deaths, injuries and property damage? $245 billion dollars for one year. Where’s the fucking press conference about the war on highway death? The car makers who foist roll-over prone-small-car-killin-roof-collapsin’-global-warming-petroleum-over-consumption-units and the oilagarchy obviously care less than a frickin’ vole turd about the carnage on the roads. It would be disruptive of the economy, of the frickin' amerikun way of life, of countless satellite industries feeding off the human road kill like flesh-eating bacteria. And why oh why, rory frickin’ wants to know are some deaths big news and other deaths no news? Wait a minute. Certain fantasy deaths are bigger news than certain real deaths. There’s gonna be yet another fucking press conference about Bird Flu preparations. How many Americans have died of bird flu? Zipfrickin'ola. Snortin’ Gale Norton suckraterror of the interior is gonna edumocate the pube-lick about avian flu. You can go to the White House site right now and submit a question to this oilwhore who has strapped on the biggest smoke spewin' environment fuckin' schvantz of any of her ilk, i.e. suckruterrys of the inferior. Here’s my question. It's a relatively simple one: “What the fuck?” Scientists quoted in today’s New York Times say that the fuckin’ avian flu probably ain’t gonna even be a pandemic anyway. rory sez fuck this avian flu bullshit.
    When are we gonna start preparing for the human roadkill pandemic? Oh and by the frickin' way, how many deaths were there last year as a result of terrorist attacks in the U.S? That’s fricking right: 47,200 fewer than deaths by motor vehicle. Rory's gonna say it again. Dead is dead. Dead is dead whether you are broken, squashed like a bug under a boot, incinerated while trapped, or otherwise wasted in a vehicle on a U.S. highway or whether you are shot by an insurgent, terrorist, or U.S. Postal Service worker. And the juxtaposition of Homeland Security blathering about, while not really preparing for, avian flu, while 120 people are violently removed from earthly existence on the highway and hundreds more disabled everyday while nothing is said would actually be completely frickin’ comical if so-called-innocent-people [will someone please define "innocent" for me] weren’t dying and suffering so much. Funny how the prezdent keeps talking about how it’s his job to protect us. Only from the truth. Obviously the mass media is complicit in this one, as well. If the death and injury tolls were posted every day like they are for Iraq, if pictures of the highway carnage were printed, broadcast and posted like war pictures, public support for driving would evaporate. And we would immediately withdraw from the highways. At this point, there is no other rational solution. We must put an end to this senseless carnage. We must stop driving and get the fuck off the highways.


    some facts and figures on motor vehicle carnage
    some facts and figures on war casualties

    Wednesday, March 22, 2006

    As winter passes rory reflects on how frickin' lucky he was to have a frozen toilet seat to sit on while 5760 kids die daily from lack of clean water


    This is a scene faced by rory at his winter job site sometimes. When the cold winter wind blows hard the snow infiltrates the shitter vents and frosts the seat that frames the holding tank like some kinda skinny ass broken powdered donut [yeah rory likes to spell donut the redneck way]. rory sez: compadres that frozen seat is pretty plush compared to crappin' out in the woods with a crazy noreaster blowin' snow up one's ass and cruelly chappin' ones balls. And rory really can't complain when he thinks of all the millions of humans whose buttcheeks never feel the luxury of any kind of latrine seat. But, turning serious for a moment, the luxury part isn't really the significant thing here anyway is it, rory?

    Hello! More people are dying from diahhrea out there than from lack of hallibushencheney-style oligarmocracy! And one helluvawholelotmorefolks are dyin' from diarrhea than from terrorism.
    But there ain't no war on diahhrea. 'cause what that really means is help for poor African people without resources to readily steal and convert into cash. Hey first fuckWad, you think it feels better to expire from diahhrea than it did for the average Iraqi to live under Saddam? But you lyin' sack of runny shit, you really were never about alleviating suffering were you? Most Iraqis had decent water and a shitter before you trashed the place.

    "A child dies every 15 seconds from diarrhoeal disease,
    attributable mainly to poor water supply and/or sanitation.
    443 million schooldays are lost each year from diarrhoeal disease.
    Failure to meet the [minimum requirements] on water and sanitation
    is costing poor countries US$84bn per year.
    36% of Africans have access to an adequate toilet.
    19% of women in rural Africa spend more than one hour on every trip to fetch water.
    Investments in sanitation can bring a 14-fold return."
    quote is from the bbc

    Meanwhile the shitsackinchief is more concerned about sending abstinence spouting preachers to Africa than helping with this problem. How 'bout this body count: 5760 children died in the last 24 hours from diarrhea. 3.1 million people die each year from the easily preventible problem of bad sanitation. It's a frickin' holocaust. The Iraqi people need our help more than these kids? Meanwhile, Homeland Security has a frickin' division of Bird Flu? Maybe a hundred people have died from avian flu. Ah, but it's like that West Nile Scam bullshit. It can strike the prick cheneys of the world. It doesn't just take poor African kids. So even if the odds of getting killed by it are totally frickin' slimtonone, the mere possibility, coupled with megapharmas ability to profiteer off of pandemic disaster fantasy mongering means that many more billions than it would take to solve the world's sanitation problem will go down the giant golden dollar shitter, and get flushed into the corporate holding ponds, where the greedy bastards of the world will skim the profits off the surface as if they were golden turds miraculously floating in their backyard pools. The fucked up thing about this: it wouldn't take much jack to solve the problem. But the whitewhores don't want to help. Maybe the abstinence preachin' fuckers figure who the fuck needs birth control when you take out 5760 kids a day with a miserable, easily preventible death?

    As the bbc quote notes a little money goes a long frickin' way. Check out:

    a glimmer of hope

    See also
    20 billion euros is all it would take.

    rory convenes meeting of the faith based Brain Explosion Prevention Week Advisory Committee (BEPWAC)


    Rory, generally a go-it-alone kinda guy in so-called creative endeavors, for better or worse, usually the latter no doubt, will now be looking to this group of trusted pundits, advisors, streghas, shamans, seers, scholars, and humorists for guidance. With visibility in the current shitstorm of human unreality-based-reality down to 1 to 2 meters and force-5 excremental winds howling out the flappin'-lipped open oral sphincter of the whitewhores, rory has dragged himself into BEPWAC's leanto of learning to listen to this group of wise people and clean the crap off his compass. Ah, rory feels better already!

    Monday, March 20, 2006

    The Most Flatulent President In History Photo Essay III -- Nero Fiddled, Bush Farted

    The sphincterous skidmark drawer printing Warhole-in-chief returns to roryshock and steps from behind the gas-billowed curtain for another set of stench-trench dispatches. Recall that Bush has been renowned for his flatulence since childhood, refining his seat thunder to a fine art while president of Delta house at Yale, and never tiring of getting a rise out of people by means of one of his remarkable crack blasts so often accompanied by his mindless giddy giggling. No function of state, no casualty report, no news of natural disaster, is too solemn to escape W's puerile fart humor.









    rory asks himself: how the hell can you post this after your previous post? its kinda like a beckett "quote" I'm recalling from way back in my memory: "I'll go on. I can't go on. I'll go on." frickin' simple as that. And I kinda like the fiddling versus farting thing. Nero and Bush. Fiddling actually requires some talent. Farting, well, I guess it comes pretty naturally to W. I think the idea that he farts and laughs about it while his actions cause death and devastation around the little spinnin' rock we all cling too sums him up for rory, at the moment anyway.