How is it?  Well, if you liked Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s musical episode, “Once More with Feeling,” you’re going to love Dr. Horrible and crew.  Neil Patrick Harris as Dr. Horrible, Nathon Fillon as arch nemisis Captain Hammer, and the too cute for words Felicia Day as their mutual love interest.

It’s laugh out loud funny.

It’s also Joss Whedon.  If you don’t know what that means, well, let’s just say you may not love the ending.

I gotta tell ya that I’m getting scared here.  The two men running for office are freaking idiots!

Every time you turn around Obama is either making shit up as he goes along, or he’s spouting stuff that’s so ridiculous my mouth literally drops open like I’m one of my Father’s relatives who moved to Southern Missouri because it made them feel smarter.  When I listen to him I feel dumber than I did before he started.  I mean he sounds better than most politicos, but when he’s done talking I’m just thinking, “What?!  That made absolutely NO sense.”  No…I can’t give you specifics, it happens EVERY time.  And he’s starting to make John effing Kerry sound absolutely decisive.

And McCain?  I haven’t seen that dynamic a speaker since Bob Dole ran against Clinton.  And that insipid grin he gets when he’s “scoring points” on Obama?  I’m sorry but it’s just plain creepy.  I’m waiting for the 1930s monster movie music to come up.  And seriously, the clip of him cruising around with Bush I in the golf cart?  Dude…the age thing isn’t helping your case and nothing says, “I’m too old to be President.” like a golf cart…unless it’s one of those scooters from Walmart with the basket in front.

Obama, stop making shit up.  Here’s an idea, when you don’t know what you’re talking about, shut the hell up.

McCain.  Stop pointing out what’s wrong with Obama, you’re sounding even MORE like a democrat when you do that.

Both of you, start talking about what you’re going to DO about the economy, gas prices, and the four years you’re presumably going to be President.

On that, we disagree. I’m a big fan of Snopes.com, and a firm believer in checking the flotsam and jetsam of my inbox before sending it on to others. And it irritates me that others don’t do the same.

Usually, I can simply ignore the bazillion forwarded items, but sometimes I just get an itch to do a public service and let folks know that no matter how much they want it to be true, Barack Obama is not the child of the anti-christ (or the devil himself), and the little boy in the UK is not still on his deathbed and trying to set a guinness world record for number of greeting cards received (if, indeed, he ever was). When this itch strikes, it’s usually not enough for me to simply reply to the individual who forwarded the email to me and her 5000 closest friends.

Not this time. Maybe it’s because I had a bad day at work today, or maybe it’s exhaustion, or the summer heat/humidity affecting my brain, but this time, I chose to “reply all” and let the entire recipient list of that email know that snopes calls it false.

Oh, maybe I should describe today’s email in more detail? Sure.

Apparently, the new nugget going around the internet is that Nancy Pelosi wants to tax retirement income as “windfall profits,” in order to provide healthcare for illegal immigrants. It’s not even a new nugget - Snopes said it started circulating before the 2006 election.

So I sent my little missive of truth and enlightenment to the world, with a simple message:

According to Snopes.com, it’s not true.
http://www.snopes.com/politics/soapbox/pelosi.asp

Nothing offensive in that, to me. No diatribes against gullible fools who clutter other peoples’ inboxes, no disparagement of the tin-foil hat brigades that exist on both sides of the aisle. Just a simple factual statement, and a link, for those who like to read for themselves.

I sent the email at 10:01pm, and pretty much forgot all about the topic. Until 10:46, when the following arrived in my gmail inbox:

WHO ARE YOU. HOW ARE WHO ABLE TO GET THIS INFORMATION?

ARE YOU ANOTHER MOVE-ON DUNCE. JUST REMEMBER GEORGE SOROS IS A FASCIST.

WORKED FOR THE NAZIS IN WW II.

I DON’T WANT CHANGE. I WANT FOLDING MONEY. OBAMA FLIP FLOPS SO MUCH

NO ONE CAN KEEP UP WITH HIM. HE CHANGES EVERY DAY. HIS POSITION THAT IS.

WHAT EVER THE PEOPLE WANT OR WHAT HE THINKS THEY WANT DEPENDING

ON WHERE HE IS ON A PARTICULAR DAY THAT’S WHAT HE SAYS.

YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY BELIEVE A WORD ME SAYS.

NANCY HAS DONE NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING SINCE BECOMING SPEAKER.

ENERGY AFFECTING THE ECONOMY. WHAT?????

NO NUCLEAR, NO COAL, NO ANWR, NO OFF SHORE, DON’T PUT WIND MILLS IN THE KENNEDYS

BACKYARDS, NO ELECTRIC CARS, NO BATTERY CREDIT, NO NEW CLEAN COAL TECH.,

BUT OFF COURSE LET’S PROTECT THE SUCKER FISHER AND DESTROY FARMERS,

LETS STOP NATURAL GAS EXPLORATION IN TENN. BECAUSE OF THE SPOTTED LIZARD.

SOOOOO ABUNDANT FISHERMEN USE THEM FOR BAIT, SET SOME MORE SUVS ON FIRE.

BE A REAL WATERMELON. GREEN ON THE OUTSIDE AND RED IN THE MIDDLE.

DUMB IS AS DUMB DOES

LIBERALISM IS A MENTAL DISORDER ” MICHAEL SAVAGE”

This thoughtfully composed, well-written, and perfectly punctuated epistle was followed up five minutes later with another from the same scribe, stating simply:

FIRST MAY I ASK. CAN YOU READ?

I cannot tell you how much I wanted to fire back a smart-aleck response, such as “why yes, I can. Can you think?” But I restrained myself.

Actually the second email came while I was composing my response to the first, a process that took longer than usual because I had to overcome my gag reflex at the thought of moveon.org and George Soros.

How does one respond to something like this (or does one even try?). And more importantly, how do I block email addresses in Gmail?

I guess I’ve been sheltered, even in the blogosphere. I visit sites like baldilocks, LaShawn Barber, and Kim DuToit, where critical thinkers present well-reasoned arguments, sometimes seasoned with sarcasm (of which our Sgt Mom is an excellent purveyor), and have been spared much of the jingo-istic slogans and name-calling. And thank goodness for that. I think my brain would melt into a puddle of goo if it were exposed to such examples of fuzzy thinking on a regular basis.

I decided to treat the email seriously, and sent a serious reply.

Thank you for your opinion.

The Pelosi thing that M—- sent is FALSE. Snopes.com is a website anyone can access, that researches urban legends, and they are dedicated to truth, not politics.

Pelosi has said and done enough stupid things that people should be upset about, that there’s no sense in fomenting dissent via falsehood. All it does is make the purveyors look gullible and stupid.

Don’t forward falsehood. Instead, build emails based on truth, and send those out to the world.

Have a nice day!

*sigh* I should have some snappy ending to this, but I’m out of words. And maybe I really said all that needed to be said in that last line of my response to that incredible email.

Don’t forward falsehood. Instead, build emails based on truth, and send those out to the world.

Have a nice day!

I’m tired of Yahoo f**king up.

I’m tired of never getting any answer to the mailings and emails that I send about my books.

I’m tired of being treated like crap because I’m a writer and there are another ten-thousand of writers just like me (only most of them are F**king worse!) on the next bus. And that most of them seem to be better connected than me.

I’m tired that most of the ones that I am connected to, appear to to blow me off like an embarrassingly incontinent relative.

I’m tired of being stalled on payment on work that I have done.

I’m tired of having to work like a dog just to get a one-hundredth of the interest awarded to crappy, mediocre writers, just because they’re the flave of the moment. Or they have well-connected friends and fans.

I’m tired of looking at things that I should like to buy, but can’t because I can’t afford them. Oh and I am really, really tired of jugging bills. (please don’t construe this as a bleg, I am just venting.)

I’m tired of non-essential stuff but non-the less non-functioning stuff around my house that I can’t afford to fix. Like, giving the animals the vet care that they deserve.

I am really tired of Pajamas Media - my reason for sticking with them is…

Oh, yeah - I am really tired of Old, Traditional, Established Media. That’s what my reason is. Otherwise, I can’t see that I am really getting anywhere with the PJ Media association, anyway.

I have a couple of glasses of chablis in me. And tomorrow, or the day after, I will have to go into a couple of employment offices and make a pretense of being all about them and tending to their coporate needs, just so that I will have enough to fund the last bits of the Adelsverin Trilogy. Like mailing copies of same to reviewers - three-quarters of which will take the copy of Book One and never do a damn thing with it. Except take it down to the local second-hand book outlet and get a couple of dollars for it.

Pardon me while I swallow the vomit in my throat.

A guy who purchased
his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that
sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was
looking for a little something extra for my wife, Julie. What I came
across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser.The effects of the
taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse
affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to
safety.

WAY TOO COOL! To make a long story short, I bought the device and
brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and
pushed the button. Nothing!

I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button
AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’ d get the
blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
AWESOME!!! Incidentally, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn
spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that
it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently
(trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking
that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving
target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a
second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I
was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a
mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Is
that wrong?

So,there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading
glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one
hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient
your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms
and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would
purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of
water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the
batteries. All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring
about 5′ long, less than 3/4′ in circumference; pretty cute, really,
and (loaded with two itsy bitsy triple-A batteries)thinking to
myself, ‘no possible way!’

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best!
I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one
side as to say, ‘don’t do it, dip shit,’reasoning that a one second
burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I
decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I
touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and… HOLY
MOTHER OF GOD…WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION…WHAT THE HELL!!!

I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and
over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the
fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples
on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under
my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs!

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging
to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt
to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a taser, one
note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you
zap yourself!

You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand
by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would
be considered conservative!

SON-OF-A-BITCH!!! THAT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure,as time was a relative thing at
that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and
surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of
the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so
from where it originally was.

My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face
felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip
weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently, I shit
myself, but was too numb to know for sure,and my sense of smell was
gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came
from my hair. I’m still looking for my nuts, and I’m offering a
significant reward for their safe return!!

P.S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

‘If you think education is difficult, try being stupid.’