Inside an Enegro

Monday, July 14, 2008

Inside an Enegro Current mood: focused Category: News and Politics Gotta love the folks at the New Yorker; it brought out the inner whiner in Obama. What a punk a** b*tch, as his rapper friends would say. Naturally, I was delighted to hear about this "controversy," and I was even more amused when I saw the cover of the magazine. I used to subscribe, but stopped because I never got around to reading it. I subscribe to about 600 publications, and I read only one: Vanity Fair. This is one of many reasons why I am so shallow and superficial and only hang out with folks who are pretty, and want to discuss fashion and programming on the Bravo Channel. Not really, but almost really. Have you seen some of the stuff they have on Bravo? I forget which comedienne once said that someone or something was TOO gay, but the comment was funny. Might have been Kathy Griffin; she gets off a good one now and then. The Bravo program on hair stylists…what is it called? Anyway, it is one of those shows that is so goofy I'm embarrassed I surfed through it. I am even more embarrassed I watched it. Oh, and I'll sit there and watch it all, and hope there's another episode to come. I want to watch John Wayne movies and eat red meat after watching that program. I'm just sayin'. Same situation with a show on CMT, "Can You Duet." What's worse is I watched "Duet" every Friday night until it was over. Even set my cell phone to remind me. I'm ashamed of some things I've done. I'm not ashamed that I am one of only 12 people on planet earth who has not seen a single episode of "American Idol." Not one. I'd be hooked if I did. Never been on a golf course either, but that is only because no one has ever invited me and, to quote Groucho Marx, "I wouldn't join a (country) club that would accept me." I wouldn't go home from a bar with the hapless (and most assuredly drunk) woman who would consent to go home with ME. All parties are better off. Frrrl. But I digress. This Obama Flap with the New Yorker. The courageous senator will whine about it until the brilliant magazine apologizes and withdraws the issue from circulation. (then I'll spend a small fortune buying it on Ebay) That's how it works in the Land of the Woos. As Shakespeare wrote, "Cry Havoc! Let slip the Dogs of (Charges of Racism)!" One has to admire the machine that is his campaign. They know what it is they are trying to do: WIN. Many have written and said that the Republicans don't know what to do with or against this guy. Senator Clinton tried everything but calling him an N-word, which would have made my entire life worth living, but …she didn't. Republicans are presently trying the tiresome "flip flop" thing, but it won't work against a muslim with satanic power from the bowels of hell. You know what I'm sayin'. Obama is a big phony and a liar, and a muslim extremist, but we can't say that because it would be racist. Politics should be funny. It seldom is anymore because of political correctness. I recall in the 1980 campaign a reporter questioned Lyn Nofziger about rumors about then-Governor Reagan. Lyn said, "I have a better rumor for you: I hear Carter has the clap." Priceless. Mini scandal, though, and can you imagine the uproar if Lyn were around to say such a thing today? He'd get into more trouble that that awful and fat Jesse Jackson got into for saying he wanted to castrate poor Obama. I could watch that over and over again. He sounded like "Mr. T" threatening to "slit tha b*tch 'thoat'." It is difficult to spell ghetto words. Did Carter have the clap? Yes. Rosalyn caught it from one of the lawn guys, gave it to Arafat, and HE gave it to Carter. It was a mess. We cain't laugh at nuthin' nowadays without offending someone. Well I laugh, but I have to be careful in front of whom I choose to laugh at, or say, inappropriate things. There are some, I have found, who were born sans humor – or common sense. The other day I made a joke about a mutual friend stabbing me, and I even allowed that it had hurt. This knucklehead thought I was serious and sent out a flurry of emails on the issue, impugning my character and hurting my feelings. He questioned my sanity (as have countless people and various nervous hospitals). It is probable this fellow had his sense of humor removed at the same time he joined the chorus castrati, and had those removed. It is definite I won't be sending him any more "humorous" emails. It did hurt when Cage Fighter Ryan stabbed me, by the way. Stabbing hurts. Just ask Sharon Tate. So I went to the New Yorker Magazine and captured and borrowed the cover art for my page at MySpace for High School Girls. I noted many other morons at the New Yorker site were posting comments at the site. There is nothing dumber or more useless than posting comments (other than writing a posting a "blog") at a website. No one reads them, except for fat nerds like me who never leave the computer or stop working except to read comments and post blogs. I posted a comment, and they added it. Since no one will read it, you can read it now: >>I think the cover is hilarious. Obama, like so many of his ilk, cannot take a joke, much less any form of criticism, without crying racism. I'm one who happens to believe the cover isn't that far from the truth. We won't find out for certain until after this inexperienced junior senator is elected. Maybe his own thin skin will bring him down; the only problem is the alternative isn't a whole lot better. Still, McCain isn't the muslim anti-Christ. To paraphrase Churchill, (Obama) is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enegro.<< Posted by Randall Hodge July 14, 08 04:17 PM Like Kathy Griffin, I get off a good one now and then. It is strange to be home for a few days. I am ready to go back home to the Aryan State of North Dakota. I want to hear English spoken again. Remind me to tell you about this chick ATT stuck me with today. I punched the wrong option button and landed with the Mexican language helper. I got off a good one or two with her, but she didn't think I was funny. Happy 24th to my best friend, David Kelly. Gottgläubig, RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, LLC

A Far Green Country

Friday, July 04, 2008

A Far Green Country Current mood: contemplative Category: Life In which I saw an antelope. On the way to Bismarck yesterday, we saw some kind of varmint off in the distance. It was an antelope. I had never seen one before. Like the friendly badger, the industrious beaver, and the suicidal pheasant, the antelope is common here in North Dakota. There are lots of other walking, creeping, and flying things that man hasn't yet exterminated. I can't imagine what it must have been like here a hundred years ago. Probably the same way it was in Oklahoma, before the state got hooked on meth and whatnot. North Dakota is a clean, beautiful state. It was settled primarily by Germans and Scandinavians. The settlers came here looking for a better life, and they did it the old fashioned way: legally. They learned the language and culture of a new land, but they also preserved their own distinct cultural identity. Garrison Keillor noted these people came from Scandinavia, seeking to escape the harsh and bitter winters, and the poor and rocky soil. They settled in a place in the New World that almost perfectly replicated the land from which they fled. They did not watch much television. The vast majority became farmers. They planted whatever they thought they could sell, and they hoped that Providence would bless them with rain and sunshine in proper quantities. Providence often blessed them with neither. Many prospered, though, and they bought up acres and acres of land. It isn't uncommon, even today, for families to own thousands of acres. Good for them. Good for me if I find some rich old widder woman to marry me. Even better for them today, is the prospect of untold riches in oil revenues. Geologists and oil companies have known for a long time there was oil in this region. The only problem was that good old Providence stored the oil in formations that made it difficult to reach and harvest. Thanks to oil industry pioneers and innovators like J.R. Ewing, technology has made it possible and profitable to get to that oil. Whereas the damn arabs can get to their inferior, albeit plentiful oil with a scimitar, we Americans have to work for ours. Never mind WE taught the ingrates how to get it and refine it. I suppose American capitalists also taught them to employ price gouging – in direct violation of the sacred teachings of the koran, as made up by mohammed. I'd have to ask noted muslim scholar, Barack Obama, about the koran. But I digress. I don't know much about the oil in North Dakota, other than what I read at the world's information source, Wikipedia. Estimates of reserves here in the Bakken Field range from 4-5 billion barrels to 200-400 billion barrels. How I hope the latter estimate is closer to the truth. If we can get to it, and there is that much down there, we can do what I've been dreaming of since the first "energy crisis" in 1973: tell the arabs and their wretched ilk to suck it. You know I mean that in a nice way. We'll return to those halcyon days of driving aircraft carriers, and paying twenty nine cents a gallon for gasoline. Here's hoping that the wonderful families who built and preserved this terrific state, who farmed during times of challenge and adversity, who endured what I am told are Stalingrad-like winters, and who had the smarts to buy up all the land they could… …all become millionaires. I have no doubt they would use the money wisely. They won't let it go to their heads like some goofball who wins $100 million in the lottery, and is bankrupt and on crack in two years. Wonderful, industrious Aryan folk settled, built, and live in this clean state. They are friendly, thoughtful and helpful. They conduct themselves as Americans used to conduct themselves, as if all of us had COMMON SENSE. I've observed they mostly act as if their neighbors, or anyone else they encounter, will do the next right thing, rather than the next dumb or inexplicable thing. People don't bother to lock their cars. People don't worry someone is going to come along and steal their stuff. Why should they? No one would. They'd give it to you if you needed it. Unlike Oklahoma City, one man didn't buy up all the McDonald's restaurants and then employ only – ONLY – people who cannot and will not speak English. Those of you who live in Oklahoma City know exactly what I am talking about. In this wonderful state, one does not encounter people who cannot or will not speak English. Other than a few Canadians, but that is okay. Traffic is a good example of the great life here. There is no traffic to speak of. Yesterday, I had the interesting fortune to end up behind an elderly gentleman in a pickup truck. I'll bet he was a World War I veteran. He looked like a typical, though aged farmer. I did not realize a vehicle could actually be driven THAT SLOWLY without being stopped. The speed of his (and my) vehicle would not register on the speedometer. It didn't bother me, because I was in a good mood, and I, like everyone else up here, was in no particular hurry to get anywhere. So I followed this old man, who wasn't about to cause an accident. People could push a stalled car faster than we were going, believe me. We turned a corner, our little procession, and I spied a young man, likely a high school student, in another car. He noticed how slowly this man (and the rest of us) was driving. It was amusing. He smiled at me. I read a lot in his expression, "isn't it funny how slowly that guy is driving, and ain't it cool this old guy is still around, and that he is still brave enough to drive to the store? Let's all give him a break, because life up here is slower and better." And cleaner. With antelopes. And oil. We were going slowly enough for me to read quite a bit from a smile. In some places, such a young man would have yelled some unnecessary obscenity, or honked, or flipped off the old guy, or done something rude or stupid that didn't help matters one bit. Or shot him. But in Beulah, North Dakota, atop 200 billion barrels of oil, a young guy summed up the potentially annoying situation with a smile. Still, we desperately need a Starbuck's. And they need to learn how to make a decent glass of iced tea. Then we'd have Valhalla, and I'd make a good Valkyrie. I'm jus' sayin'. "And of the Independence of the United States of America, the two hundred and thirty second." Don't be so hard on France. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. If it hadn't been for French aid during the Revolutionary War, we'd all be speaking English today, instead of Spanish. "We have it within our power to being the world over again. Don't muck it up." --Thomas Paine and RPH. RPH, Esq., N.V. ©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, LLC