Thank You TV Land

In what was supposed to be a much needed evening of mind-numbing after work couch napping and channel surfing, I found myself hurled back to my near-forgotten first celebrity crush. No, no, no, not Farrah Fawcett or Suzanne Somers or even Valerie Bertinelli. The dream date of my 10 year old heart was Matthew Laborteaux – probably known better by the masses as Albert from Little House on the Prairie. I never, ever missed an episode of LHOTP. Ever. That thick black hair and those deep, dark eyes full of adorable and charming reformed bad boy sexiness confirmed my long suspected gayness. I would have given up my K-Tel disco records in a heartbeat to live in Walnut Grove with Albert. Sure, I couldn’t proudly display posters of my crush on my bedroom wall like the other kids did – mainly because of the Little House shame factor. Well, I’m not ashamed anymore. So here it is. I love Little House on the Prairie. I’ve even thought of buying the DVD collection.

Guns Don't Kill People

Copy and Paste

LOS ANGELES (Feb. 10) - Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa said Thursday he was blindsided by President George W. Bush's announcement of new details about a purported 2002 plot to crash a plane into a city skyscraper, but the White House and state officials said the mayor's office was contacted.

I'm amazed that the president would make this (announcement) on national TV and not inform us of these details through the appropriate channels," the mayor said in an interview with The Associated Press. "I don't expect a call from the president - but somebody."

In Washington, White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan said the administration "did reach out to officials in California and Los Angeles to let them know, I think it was yesterday, that the president would be talking about this."

Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, the alleged mastermind of the Sept. 11 attacks who was captured in 2003, had already begun planning the West Coast operation in October 2001, Bush said Thursday during a Washington speech. The hijackers were to use shoe bombs to blow open the cockpit door of a commercial jetliner, take control of the plane and crash it into the Library Tower in Los Angeles, since renamed the US Bank Tower, Bush said.

Apparently, Thursday morning, Bush's crack team of public relations officials realized that they hadn't yet hammered out a bone-chilling, menacing terrorist "plot" that would show the need for wiretapping and citizen surveillance, and justify to the sheep, the ripping up of the American Constitution. So, out of the pressure of time constraints, they decided to copy and paste from previous headline grabbers.

P.R. #1 : "Let's see, shoe bombs really frighten them."

P.R. #2: "I don't think we should use New York. New Yorkers made it through the transit strike. They won't care about this

P.R. #1: "Let's try L.A. this time. It'll be fun to watch all those Hollywood liberals shaking in their loafers."

P.R. #2: "Yeah," (chuckles) "Good Night and Good Luck, Hollywood."

P.R. #1 "Hey, what's the tallest building in L.A.?"

P.R. #2 "Should we use Sadaam?"

P.R. #1 "No, let's use some other guy with a funny name!"

P.R. #2 "I hope Scott doesn't fuck it up in front of the cameras again."

P.R. #1 "Yeah, what a dumbass."

The Reinvention Tour

Ok, for those interested...I am still alive. As anyone who is interested would know, my life fell apart in just about every conceivable way a few months ago. On the employment front, I'm now doing marketing for a different team in the same office and it's working out really well. I moved out of South Beach and into a cool, old apartment in downtown Miami. Just a few weeks ago, I was able to get my nearly totalled car repaired. And, though I still can't look at photo albums or listen to Lite FM, I'm crawling out of the shock and awe of "I don't want to continue from here."

So, now I'd like to return to my irregularly scheduled blogging absurdity. In the meantime, I'm concentrating on sending out some particularly positive vibes and thoughts to Marisol and Valerie. I hope they both know how strong they can be, and how many people are rooting for them.

Happy Thanksgiving

I'm backing away from the Damien Rice for a moment to be thankful for having the absolute best friends and blog buddies anyone could have. I am as grateful as one can be for all the support I've received...and for Madonna's new cd.

Yet Another Shoe Drops

Yesterday my heart broke into a million pieces. Hopefully music still saves our lives.

yesterday i got so old
i felt like i could die
yesterday i got so old
it made me want to cry
go on go on
just walk away
go on go on
your choice is made
go on go on
and disappear
go on go on
away from here
and i know i was wrong
when i said it was true
that it couldn't be me and be her
inbetween without you
without you
yesterday i got so scared
i shivered like a child
yesterday away from you
it froze me deep inside
come back come back
don't walk away
come back come back
come back today
come back come back
why can't you see?
come back come back
come back to me --- "In Between Days" by The Cure

So Not Eligible For VH-1's "Best Week Ever"

We all know that life is full of ups and downs and that the downs allow us to appreciate the ups. The problem is that when you’re going through a down period, it’s just so hard to see the up period down the road – and when you’ve had a week like I have, it’s just not fucking possible to see past survival mode.

Saturday, October 22 – I noticed that I missed several calls from the office. I didn’t return them, because, well it’s Saturday. The phone rang again, and I answered it, with a purposely annoyed tone. Christian from work asks me what happened to Gary (Gary is my boss), and I ask him what he’s talking about. He tells me that he heard that he just heard that Gary’s handyman found him collapsed on the floor at his house, and that he’s now in the hospital. I call Gary’s cell – no answer. I call Mariano, the handyman. He tells me that the hospital just called him, and that Gary se murio. Gary died. He fucking died. He was 47 years old, and he just died. I had to go to the house and assure the police that Mariano did indeed work for Gary, and that it was ok for him to have been in the house. Gary’s parents were on vacation in Boston. His mother called me to find out what was happening. I had to explain, as best I could, to his mother what happened.

Sunday, October 23 – I spent most of the day walking around numbly, and not preparing for the hurricane that’s coming.

Monday, October 24 – At 6 in the morning the roar of the hurricane woke us up. The windows were shaking and buckling and the power went out. From our window, I could see huge trees being ripped to shreds and satellite dishes and roof tiles smashing into the building next door. I realized that this hurricane was like nothing I had ever seen before. We sat nervously for hours listening to the howl and destruction outside. After it passed, Rodrigo and I took a walk around the neighborhood to assess the damage. Fucking unreal. Nearly every tree was just shredded, huge cement utility poles were just lying in the street and a van had been flipped upside down onto a car. We took a turn onto Euclid Avenue to check on my car. I had parked away from all trees and signs, just in case. What I had not calculated was the roof of the synagogue on the corner flying at 100 mph into the side of my car. The entire side of my car was completely smashed in. It looks like two buffalos rammed into it full force. The nicest touch, though, has to be the roofing tar all over my car. Um, yeah.

Tuesday, October 25 – It’s pretty amazing how quickly society breaks down without electricity or water. The whole scene turned into Mad Max Beyond South Beach – no lights, downed power lines and trees blocking all the roads and sidewalks and tribes of unshowered people just roaming around with flashlights. I forgot how dark it can be at night. The stars were beautiful. Cell phone batteries died.

Wednesday, October 26 – After living on potato chips and bananas for 2 days, we are deeply grateful that the café where I used to work (and Rodrigo still works) has food. I’m still trying to get a footing on what the fuck just happened. Everyone was just migrating around from friend’s apartment to friend’s apartment looking for something, anything, to do.

Thursday, October 27 – We got water again, but of course it’s cold. Cold showers suck ass, but I would have taken a dip in the Antarctic Sea at that point. Thursday night we got power back. So thankful that I live in the tourist area.

Friday, October 28 – I spent most of the day having “off the record” conversations with Gary’s family, friends and clients. It seems that Gary didn’t have a will, or even life insurance, even though he had literally millions of dollars worth of real estate deals in process. I have never really posted much about work, but as it turns out, I am the one who has all the information that everyone needs. I have all the passwords and account information. I’m the one who knew just about everything about his life. So, now I am the one being placed squarely in the middle of this entire mess – though I no longer have a job. Gary was the company. Without Gary, there is no company. Without Gary, I am completely unemployed. But, of course, that doesn’t matter at all to all the folks who want to “protect their interests.”

Saturday, October 29 – My biological mother, whom I just met a few years ago and have a still uncomfortable relationship with, comes to visit to celebrate her birthday.

Sunday, October 30 – I attended the memorial services for Gary. It didn’t offer the closure I had hoped it would. There was no viewing, because the morgue didn’t have power and they had to cremate his body. Um yeah.

Monday, October 31 – Rodrigo and friends dressed up for Halloween and we walked around Lincoln Road, watching the drag queens frolic – it is their night after all. I’ve rarely felt so miserable. Afterwards, Rodrigo, my partner of nearly 4 years, and who’s been weirdly distant tells me that he feels like things between us aren’t so good right now. Our conversation is interrupted by friends coming over.

I know things get always get better, and blah blah blah. But, fuck, I’m so not in a good place right now. I usually am a pretty chipper guy. Really. Ask anyone.

Just In Time For The Holidays!

The Moo-Cow Nativity Set

Thanks to Valerie over at Forward Ho! for a giving me something to do at work - and thanks to Moobert and the Crickets for being > Tab!

Ummm...

Fuck.

Evolution Of Religion

When I was a much, much younger homo-nerd in search of answers to all the world’s mysteries, I stumbled upon a little paperback with an intriguing cover in the back of a used bookstore. I must have spent two hours sitting cross-legged in between the stacks before I was able to pull myself away long enough to cough up $1.50 and catch the bus home with my new treasure. I’m pretty sure that no book has had more influence on my world view than The Naked Ape by Desmond Morris – not so much because it filled me with radically new ideas about evolution and sociology – but more because it solidified and expounded on my own observations.

For those with a significantly lower nerd quotient than is called for here, Desmond Morris is a socio-biologist, meaning that his work explores the area of the human condition where genetics and environment overlap. The Naked Ape written in 1967 (and still making fundamentalists gnash their primate teeth), looks at the behavior and societal structure, Evos of Homo Sapiens as products of evolution. Basically, how our social interactions and our experience of emotions – everything about being human – are products of our genetic inheritance. Humans weren’t the fastest, the strongest or the most agile. Our evolutionary gifts were abstract thought, group communication and group cooperation.

I just finished my annual re-reading Morris’ scriptures, and I just can’t stop thinking about his thoughts on the function of religion from a socio-evolutionary standpoint. Check this out…

Before we evolved into co-operative hunters, we must have lived in social groups of the type seen today in other species of apes and monkeys. There, in typical cases, each group is dominated by a single male. He is the boss, the overlord, and every member of the group has to appease him or suffer the consequences. He is also the most active in protecting the group from outside hazards and in settling squabbles between lesser members. The whole life of a member of such a group revolves around the dominant animal. His all-powerful role gives him a god-like status. Turning now to our immediate ancestors, it is clear that, with the growth of the co-operative spirit so vital for successful group hunting, the application of the dominant individual’s authority had to be severely limited if he was to retain the active, as opposed to passive, loyalty of the other group members. They had to want to help him instead of simply fear him. He had to become more ‘one of them.’ The old-style monkey tyrant had to go, and in his place there arose a more tolerant, more co-operative naked ape leader. This step was essential for the new type of ‘mutual aid’ organization that was evolving, but it gave rise to a problem…From our ancient background there remained a need for an all-powerful figure who could keep the group under control, and the vacancy was filled by the invention of a god. The influence of the invented god-figure could then operate as a force additional to the now more restricted influence of the group leader.

At first sight, it is surprising that religion has been so successful, but its extreme potency is simply a measure of the strength of our fundamental biological tendency, inherited directly from our monkey and ape ancestors, to submit ourselves to an all-powerful, dominant member of the group.

Cool stuff to think about as we enter the new Dark Ages of fundamentalism and religious fanaticism, huh?

Happy Genocide Day

Like Sunlight Inside My Mind

I Walk So Tall
Ascending I Stand So High

Earth Below Me
Revolving Above The Sky

I Feel No Fear
To Be Here Is Oh So Fine

Shining Brightly
Like Sunlight Inside My Mind

- Lyrics From “Move Any Mountain” by The Shamen (1991)


Sitting in the back seat of Amy’s Volvo station wagon with Jody, on the way downtown to Club Pegasus – it started to come on. I felt shaky, confused and lightheaded. I wondered if I had made a mistake. As my consciousness started to swirl, I leaned over and put my head on Jody’s leg. I soon found myself giggling, deeply amused by how nice it felt to knead his thigh. Jody was significantly less amused.

We parked in the garage next to Pegasus. I stepped out of the car and tried to explain to Amy and Jody how surreal everything looked. I thought I probably shouldn’t go into the club, until I figured out where this was going. But I was supposed to meet Erik, Mitchell and Glenn inside and they were the only ones who had been where I was at that moment. When the door opened and the music flowed over me, I immediately knew I would never be the same.

Until that night, my life had been defined by words like abandonment, abuse, rejection, shyness and depression. If you’ve been reading for a while, you know that my childhood was, let’s say, somewhat unorthodox. By the end of high school, I felt like the boy in the bubble. I felt disconnected from everything and everyone, as if I were just observing life and not participating. I had a few really close friends, but years of dealing with my circumstances left me perfectly numb. Music was like an air tube to my bubble. It allowed me to breathe and connected me in some distant way to our existence.

The numbness went away that first night. For the first time ever, I felt a part of the world around me. It’s a bit like a dream, but I remember introducing myself to just about everyone in the club. I remember Mitchell putting me on his shoulders on the dancefloor, and shoving marshmallows in my mouth in the bathroom. I remember how “Elevation” by Xpansions and “Move Any Mountain” by the Shamen seemed to be portals to some universal rhythmic truth inside of me.

I also remember telling my roommate Ted, in the car, on the way home, about the abuse I had endured as a kid. I had never told anyone before, because I was too embarrassed and ashamed. Listening to Deee-Lite on the tape player, Ted listened while I took the first steps toward healing. Ecstasy allowed me to look inside - painlessly. It allowed me to confront my past – without confrontation. It allowed me to share my feelings with others, without shame or humiliation.

Two weeks after that first night, Mitchell had his S.E.A.R.S. (Sell Everything And Run Swiftly) sale and left Pittsburgh for San Francisco. A few weeks after that, he called me at 4 in the morning from a payphone at a rave called the Whoopi Ball. He, and 100 of his new best friends, convinced me to drop everything and head out for the second Summer of Love. I moved to San Francisco in March of 1992, as the rave scene was getting set to explode. My first rave was called Toon Town – UFOs Are Real. The rave scene and Ecstasy became a totally spiritual experience for me. I explored myself and my connection to others while the bass pumped all night long, and I learned to integrate important aspects of the experience into my everyday life. To this day, I feel the deepest possible gratitude for having been able to experience the magic of that time and place.

I am sure that Ecstasy saved my life. I’ve done Ecstasy well over a hundred times. Let’s see. 52 weeks in a year….carry the 4…okay…probably closer to two hundred times. I’ve done Acid, Mushrooms, Pot, Crystal Meth, Cocaine, GHB, MDA, 2CB, Alcohol, Downers and Special K. I developed good relationships with some of them, bad relationships with some and no relationships with others. I’ve also finished a Master’s degree in Sociology, excelled at a “respectable” job, volunteered my time to teach kids at the Museum of Science and maintained deep friendships for decades. I vote in every election, donate money to charities and sometimes pick up litter off the street.

I don’t think that everyone should do Ecstasy. I don’t think everyone should experiment with or use drugs at all. I know some people who feel that their Ecstasy use caused fairly serious bouts of depression afterwards. I know a lot of people who developed very bad relationships with some drugs and suffered greatly with addiction problems. I, myself, went to a very dark place with crystal meth, and have been fighting nicotine addiction for years.

So, should I be in prison? According to the Drug War proponents, I am a criminal. I am a bad person. I am an immoral person. There are people serving long prison sentences for doing exactly what I did. Is that really a moral solution?

This is the last installment of my War on Drugs trilogy. We will now return to our regularly scheduled blogging. For further information...check out MAPS, November Coalition and DanceSafe.

Just Say...What?

For anyone who might have doubted the racist nature of America's War on Drugs...William Bennett, who served as the "drug czar" for the George Bush Sr. administration from 1989-1990 is refusing to apologize for racist remarks he made on a syndicated radio talk show. On Wednesday, Bennett told a caller: "If you wanted to reduce crime, you could - if that were your sole purpose - you could abort every black baby in this country and your crime rate would go down. That would be an impossibly ridiculous and morally reprehensible thing to do, but your crime rate would go down."

CNN reports that as of last night, Bennett was defending his remarks. Bennett also served Ronald Reagan's administration as the chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities from 1981-1985, and as the secretary of education from 1985-1988.

Yes, these are the kind of people who have made their living directing policy that imprisons people for ingesting government unapproved substances.

I Asked You Not To Tell Me That, 99!

I feel like a part of me is now gone. Goodbye 86.

My Side Of The Fence

Okay, back to my side of the fence with my real views on drug prohibition. Without writing a dissertation, I want to discuss how The War on Drugs is irrational, unconstitutional, racist and immoral. (You asked for it, Vegas!).

Drug prohibition is completely irrational. It simply doesn’t make sense to spend $40 billion dollars per year on surveillance, arrests, incarcerations and bureaucratic drug warrior salaries while starving social programs that rehabilitate people with addiction problems. It is an absolute absurdity that we allow alcohol and nicotine, two of the most dangerous and addictive of all drugs, and we imprison users of marijuana and ecstasy. It’s also irrational to think that the War on Drugs keeps our children and neighborhoods safer. In 1933, when the prohibition of alcohol ceased, violent crime decreased sharply and immediately. This is because the illegality (i.e. scarceness) of alcohol made it a more valuable commodity, thereby creating an extremely lucrative black market. Just as alcohol prohibition gave us Al Capone and the Mafia, today’s drug war employs inner city gangs, international crime and terrorism organizations and corrupt police and politicians.

The War on Drugs is unconstitutional. The paranoia instigated by the drug warriors, has led to societal approval of major violations of our nation’s founding principles. Unconstitutional searches and seizures, wiretaps, entrapments and confiscations have been embraced as legitimate law-enforcement tools. During Reagan’s crusade against drugs in the 1980s, urine drug testing in the workplace became standard. Now, many Americans don’t even question this humiliating and invasive test of company loyalty. In 2003, Senator Joseph Biden (who happens to be a possible contender for the Democrats’ nominee for President in 2008), pushed the RAVE (Reducing Americans’ Vulnerability to Ecstasy) Act through both houses of Congress. The RAVE Act was hidden in a legislative bill dealing with child abduction (the Amber Alert Bill), and passed with bi-partisan support. The RAVE Act essentially allows the government to prosecute business owners, should any of their customers use or sell illegal drugs on their property or at their event – even if the owners have taken steps to stop such activity. Benjamin Franklin once said something like, “those who would trade freedom for security, deserve neither freedom nor security.”

The War on Drugs is, and has always been, a war against minorities. The first anti-drug law passed in the United States was passed when, in 1875, the city of San Francisco (ironically enough) passed a law that made smoking opium illegal. Middle class, Euro-Americans had been taking opium in a liquid form for some time, but when local newspapers started running reports of white women being lured into Chinese opium dens and turned into sexual slaves, legislative action was taken. Not surprisingly, the use of liquid opium continued to be legal…but smoking opium, as the Chinese immigrants did, was outlawed. Cocaine was made illegal in 1914, because lawmakers believed testimony from Dr. Christopher Koch who said that “most of the attacks upon the white women of the South are the direct result of a cocaine-crazed Negro brain.” In 1937, marijuana became illegal as fears that its use was spreading from Mexicans to white American youths, and that something needed to be done. Currently, though most drug offenders are European-American, African-Americans are sent to state prisons on drug charges at 13 times the rate of European-Americans. Much of this racial disparity is due to sentencing guidelines in which possession of five grams of crack nets the same five-year mandatory minimum sentence as the sale of 500 grams of powder cocaine.

That’s enough drug war rant for tonight. I’m tired and fresh out of crack. The last part of this trilogy will address the immorality of the War on Drugs, from a personal experience perspective.
I know you’re waiting with baited breath...

Hofzinser's Blogger Challenge - Round Two

Better late than never, right?A couple of weeks ago Hof pronounced yet another great Blogger Challenge. He warned that this one was a “doozy,” and well, that was a bit understated. Briefly stated the challenge was to “Think of an issue you believe in strongly. An issue that means a lot to you which also has many opponents… Create a post that argues for the other side. Don't be coy, don't be silly and don't be snarky. Take the challenge and really present an argument against your side in the issue.” Hof offered a long list of possible topics. I wrestled around with a few of them, and decided that “the other side” of most of the ones I was interested in could simply be written as “because Jesus said so.” I ended up choosing to argue in support of the War on Drugs, which in reality, I am passionately against. It was really difficult to keep the OkaSnark under wraps, but here goes...

The War on Drugs is a worthy and necessary government policy in order to protect children and support family stability, lower crime rates, and promote a moral American lifestyle. Our efforts to rid our society of recreational drugs should be increased – not abandoned. The current policy has helped reduce overall drug abuse. Without penalties for selling and using illegal substances, drug use would increase and become normalized. As is the case in the Netherlands, where drug possession has been decriminalized and marijuana is sold openly in coffee shops.

Illegal drugs destabilize families and the economy. Daily news reports clearly show the damage that drug abuse inflicts on children and families. More often than not, drugs are the cause of domestic violence, child abuse and child neglect. Drug use also produces irresponsible behavior, which takes a toll both on families and the economy. Money spent on drugs is money not spent on housing, food and other necessities. Also, countless production hours are lost in the workplace because of absences and the general lack of motivation that comes with drug use. Lower production in the workplace damages the overall economy and society.

The government has a responsibility to protect its citizens, even from their own actions, and promote a moral society. Illegal drugs, such as marijuana and ecstasy, are dangerous and morally wrong. Mind-altering drugs distort reality and control is lost while intoxicated, often leading to violence and immoral sexual behavior. Drugs destroy the ability to judge right from wrong and exercise self-control.

Contrary to what drug proponents would have us believe, drug legalization would dramatically increase the crime rate. Anti-drug laws prevent many people from using harmful drugs, and penalties should remain in place as deterrence. A proper fear of authority is healthy for society. Studies have shown that countries with strong anti-drug laws have lower rates of drug abuse and crime, while countries that have adopted lax attitudes toward drug use have seen major increases in drug addiction and crime.

The American public has decided that the consequences of drug legalization would be unacceptable. Stiff penalties and international efforts are necessary to express society’s disapproval. The War on Drugs is being won, and we must stay the course.

The Roads Less Traveled

Local Okapi Range

Global Okapi Range

The Week After

My heart has been too heavy and my mind too muddled to write with any semblance of organization. I am so deeply sad for the people of the Gulf Coast who were left behind, and those whose lives will never, ever be the same again. It’s been over a week now and the reality of the anguish and suffering are just now displacing the initial shock of the images of a government obsessed with wealth and power abandoning its most vulnerable people.

“Sir, you aren't just telling me you just learned that the folks at the convention center didn't have food and water until today, are you? You had no idea they were completely cut off?” – Paula Zahn, CNN News Anchor interviewing FEMA’s head, Michael Brown (September 1, 2005).

“The federal government did not even know about the convention center people until today – Michael Brown answering Paula Zahn, (September 1, 2005).

“Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job.” – George W. Bush, complimenting FEMA chief Mike Brown on his agency's response to Hurricane Katrina, (September 2, 2005).

“I think it puts into question all of the Homeland Security and Northern Command planning for the last four years, If we can't respond faster than this to an event we saw coming across the Gulf for days, then why do we think we're prepared to respond to a nuclear or biological attack?” – Former House Speaker Newt Gingrich, (September 2, 2005).

“Our family is willing to help your family by coming to get you and letting you stay with us in our Pittsburgh home. We can accommodate one or two adults and up to four young children.” – Just one of hundreds of similar ads on Craigslist offering help (September 2, 2005).

“In America we do not abandon our fellow citizens in their hour of need.” – George W. Bush, (September 3, 2005).

“I open the television there's people still there waiting to be rescued and for me it's not acceptable. I know there's reasons for it. I'm sorry to say I'm being rude but I don't want to hear those reasons. You know, some people are stealing and they're making a big deal out of it. Oh, they're stealing 20 pair of jeans or they're stealing television sets. Who cares? They're not going to go too far with it. Maybe those people are so poor, some of the people who do that they're so poor they've never touched anything in their lives. Let them touch those things for once. The main thing right now it's not the people who are stealing. It's the people who are left there and they're watching helicopters flying over their heads and they're praying. How come it's so easy to send planes in another country to kill everyone in a second, to destroy lives?” – Celine Dion, (September 3, 2005). I'll (probably) never have another snarky thing to say about Celine.

“The palettes of food and water that have just been dropped at selected landing zones in the downtown area of New Orleans. It’s an outrage because all of those elements existed before people died for lack of them. There was water, there was food, and there were choppers to drop both. Why no one was able to combine them in an air drop is a cruel and criminal mystery of this dark chapter in our recent history. The words “failure of imagination” come to mind. The concept of an air drop of supplies was one we apparently introduced to the director of FEMA during a live interview on Nightly News on Thursday evening.” – Brian Williams, NBC News Anchor, (September 5, 2005).

Today's USA

Sampled from the Onion

Okapi Visuals

The lair has grown to accomodate a photo blog. http://www.okapivisuals.blogspot.com