Friday, February 20, 2009

And so it begins...


Most of us have heard the story of Chip Harrison, an Oklahoma City resident who was stopped by Oklahoma City Police for “Driving While White,” and for having a sign in the window of his vehicle, “Abort Obama, not the Unborn.”

Chip Harrison

Since when is it illegal to display a sign in your window? January 20, 2009, that’s when. I was taught that Freedom of Speech is almost absolute. An exception is falsely crying “Fire! Fire!” in a crowded theatre (unless there is a fire). It is also illegal to display an anti-Obama sign in your car if a black policeman sees it, he supports Obama, and he wants to undo 400 years of alleged injustice in one traffic stop.

Oh, SNAP! Look at this oft-seen bumper strip:

Harrison claims he made the sign because he is a Christian and opposes abortion. Obama recently approved government funding for “partial birth” abortions. In this procedure, Dr. Death digs the living fetus out in pieces. The technique was perfected at Auschwitz -- just like the police and government tactics we’re going to see in the “brave new world” of the Obama Regime. People, I TOLD you he was the anti-Christ.

I won't post images of this, but you can google images of the "medical" procedure, and ...nah, don't do it.

Lo how the mountain has turned. During the campaign, a couple of fey, foppish fellows in West Hollywood hung from their roof a figure that represented Governor Sarah Palin with a noose around her neck. As appalling and goofy as that stunt was, I secretly thought it was kind of funny. It was Halloween, and girlfriend had recently said some dumb things. No one told the guys to take down this “offensive” display. Nope, Free Speech won the day, son. If someone went to a Halloween party costumed as “Lynched Obama,” someone would cut that guy. We’d find him tied to a fence post in Wyoming. Frrrrl.

Our freedoms have been curtailed in Oklahoma City, though, because of the recent Reichstag Fire, and the Coming of Barack Obama.

I can only imagine the attitude the policeman had when he stopped Mr. Harrison. I don’t speed, run stop signs, carry around dead bodies, or a mobile meth lab (like everyone else), but if THE MAN stops me, my heart races, and I’m shaky. My voice quivers, and suddenly I’m not Charlton Heston with a staff. Why? Well, for starters, he/she can shoot me if he/she wants, or plant a gun or drugs, or a bloody glove. He can force me out of my car, make me “get flat” as they say on “Cops,” and he can yell unkind things at me. A policeman can Rodney King me to deff.

I respect the police, and I do what they say because I have to. I admire the good ones for their sacrifice and devotion. However, many are jack booted thugs (to borrow a phrase from my man G. Gordon Liddy). Every time I’ve ever been stopped for an alleged traffic violation, I found the officer to be both rude and arrogant. On one occasion, the officer asked me my profession. “Excuse me, but what does that have to do with anything,” I said. “I asked you a question,” said the policeman. When I told him I was an attorney, he said, “that figures.” I hadn’t been rude or haughty, because I know my place, but I suppose others in my hideous profession HAD been rude or haughty to him in the past.

I am just a victim. I'm going tonight to get a tear drop tattoo, bitches.

But I digress. It isn’t all about me.

Back to Free Speech. A small group of hippies used to gather near that gawdawful ugly gold dome building at 23rd & Classen (which Tim McVeigh should have targeted).

Jus’ sayin’, not hatin’.

These folks met weekly to protest Bush’s War without End. In those days I supported Bush and all of his evil works. This was before Katrina, and before the news conference in which he used the word plethora, and pronounced it “pluh-THOR-uh.” This was Freedom of Speech at its finest.

I thought the hippies were knuckleheads and organic food types, but so what. I secretly wished I had had the nerve to show up there with them, brandishing a big Nazi flag. No reason, other than to eff up their demonstration and get some much needed attention for myself. But I didn’t, because I am a big fat chicken. Emphasis on fat. But it would have been funny. They’d have tried to run me off, and someone would have called the police, even though I had just as much right to be there as they did. Or did I?

Most likely THE MAN would have shown up and confiscated the flag. I might have been arrested. The flag would have been returned in time, but they’d have stopped me from doing what I was doing that day. That’s the whole point: silence da white folks. Keep ‘em down so they can never get ahead. Eventually, the courts would have stepped up and protected my rights, but by then it would all be moot.

The government can and does exactly as it pleases, when it pleases. The courts may rein it in later, but so what? Ask Randy Weaver about that. In 1992, the Gestapo FBI and ATF charged up Ruby Ridge to his home, and murdered his wife, Vicki (who was holding their un-aborted infant), their other son Sam and, most tragically, their dog. They killed Brian Griffin, man. That’s cold.

Jack Booted Thugs

Brian Griffin, killed by the ATF at Ruby Ridge

Don't get me started on Waco. That's for another rant.

Big government is bad, especially when it perceives its purpose is to zealously protect and promote one particular philosophy or individual. With Obama, we have both. Apparently, in Oklahoma City we also have government officials who will abuse their power to put down opposition to him. I never imagined in my time a local police department would sic the Secret Service on to a guy because he had the effrontery to criticize The Anointed One. I may be overstating this a bit, but not by much. Watch this sort of thing very closely in the months to come. As Nostradamus predicted in Quatrain CLVIII, "Things are going to suck."

I don’t care for Obama, and he is the anti-Christ, and Satan’s Imp and whatnot, but I wish him well because Bush broke the world. Obama was elected, and he deserves a chance. With the economy, we are in uncharted waters, and without a boat or a paddle. Only Red Comm’nis’ China and Wal-Mark have the money to save us.

Western Civilization is also at war with 1.8 billion angry little muslims with bombs. I mean that nice.

A little trouble here and there, folks, but the Oscar® ceremony is Sunday. If girlfriend Kate Winslet wins, she might cry and embarrass the British Empire. Always love me some drama.

Oh, I hope Chip Harrison sues the crap out of Oklahoma City. We have to fight this stuff. We have to, or it will get worse. Ruby Ridge, Waco, and the Oklahoma City Bombing were horrific tragedies, but reforms ensued. Our government goons and thugs aren’t quite as “jack booted” now, but they keep those boots handy. They take them out and polish them now and then.

My friend Lyn Nofziger once told me that safety isn’t worth too much if we have to sacrifice our freedom.

© 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Diversions from Morningwood

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Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Virtual Meltdown of Commodus



Anybody else want some (all of it) of what he was on? Jus' sayin'.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Myspace Love


Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Current mood: infuriated

I wanted to send a link for my blogspot website to my new best friend, John, who lives on Staten Island. I added a link in the message, as I had done earlier in a Myspace bulletin. Myspace gets fussy if one uses a link. Perhaps our colorful bouncy host fears the specter of Facebook (bellowed in a booming, basso voice) on the horizon.

Because I added a link, Myspace thinks I am "phishing," or have been "phished." Myspace has forced me to change my password seven times (and counting) because of this phishing crap. I'm sorry people are phished, it sucks to be them, and it's worse than the holocaust. But, as techno-naive as I am, I don't think I'm going to fall for one of those fake websites that wants my login stuff. Who in the hell would want someone's Myspace stuff anyway? Honky pleez.

Since I started jacking with Facebook a few months ago, many of my attractive, intelligent, and well-dressed friends have jumped the wall to freedom at Facebook. Facebook truly is, to quote Gandalf, a blessed land with "white shores...a far green country," and it isn't lame or the butt of countless jokes. Many of us feel silly over there from time to time, because you can't make up how cheesy some of us can be. You will know I'm at the top of the list of cheese if you but browse my photo albums.

But I digress.

So far, I haven't encountered any problems or drags with the Facebook site. It is user friendly, and one does not need an instructional DVD to do things. Now that I am used to it, I believe it is a superior way to stay in touch with old friends, to meet new ones, and to be ubercheesy. Facebook has all the functions of Myspace and more -- and the functions work.

If and when I quit Myspace, I will miss all the flashing, pretty colors. I won't miss the "blog control center." It is difficult sometimes if one wants a consistent blog page. It has something to do with transferring the data from blogspot, or Word to the hideous Myspace website. I know I'm probably the one who is making the mistake with protocol crap. After I post this at Myspace, I'll likely discover that in places, the size and type of font vary from one sentence to another. Who knows why. If I try in my OCD way to fix it, it gets worse.

It must be racism. I am black, and Myspace has found out.

I don't like change. I like both places. At Myspace, I feel all colorful, sticky, pink, blue and creepy. "Ticky-tacky," to borrow a phrase from my literate sponsor. I feel like I would and should feel if I talked to teenagers waiting in line to see "Twilight."

People make cruel, hurtful jokes about losers in my age group who have a Myspace page, e.g., "Superbad." Those jokes are funny as hell, too. At Facebook...well, it seems more adult. Facebook is a timewaster that is a thousand times classier than its gummy bear sister, Myspace.

Hannibal Lecter would use Facebook. John Wayne Gacy would play clown on the other one.

Jus' sayin'.

Still, I am 14 and I love all the Hannah Montana-like features of Myspaceformiddleschoolgirls, and I am comfortable there.

But you wasted my time tonight Evil Myspace. White people should be able to send a link to their own website without setting off alarms about passwords, and without having to view the iconic image of Tom in that awful t-shirt. It's an LSD migraine from hell to look at that error page crap. All the pretty colors come together and form swirly, black/green hypnotic eyes, like in a horrid 50's movie. The eyes stare, and they hate you. I can't be the only person who is having this exact same experience.

I know without being told that the digressions, ramblings, musings, tired semi-xenophobic and racist comments in every single one of my blogs are NOT worth this bother. John in Staten Island would live without reading my blog.

But let's just say I didn't take my meds this morning, so I am not acting right. The voices in my head are loud this evening, and they grow louder, because it is a pain in the arse to repeat the password change process over and over.

So I am going to see what happens when I try to post this blog. Someone with THE MAN will read it immediately; they always do. If it doesn't get through the censors, I shall roam the internet exposing this vile, fascist attack on my free speech. Not that there was anything wrong with the fascists, you understand, but Myspace Nazis wear teal uniforms, bitches, not black. Teal fascists haven't yet appeared in any of my fantasies or nocturnal ticky-tackies, so to speak.

I will also start my own website, the concept of which I have long dreamed: WeinerSpace dot com. A warm, friendly, welcoming, and wholesome place for gentlemen to show and share about their weiners with hot Asian chicks and cups. You know what I'm sayin'. (One can always segue weiners into any blog)

Beware of the Ides of March, stay off the moors, stay away from the light, Carol Anne, and whatever you do, don't try to insert a weblink in your messages or bulletins. Myspace will cut you.

I feel better now, but I can't remember my password.

(c) 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq. and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.



Sunday, February 1, 2009

25 Stupid Ridiculous Idiotic Random Things

Some of this was wrong.

(25 something or other -- as suggested by some MySpace rejects, friendly nerds on Facebook, and forged in the wanton, mindless, and often plagiaristic thought processes of Randall P. Hodge, Esq.)

1. I'd rather not deviate from my daily routine.

2. I feel no remorse if I don't accomplish a thing on a Saturday or Sunday.

3. It sucks that so many people are hurting because of the economy. This is why my time machine will take the Gin Blossoms and me back to the 90's.

4. I never get tired of watching the same World War II documentaries on the History Channel. Hitler is everywhere; he is the new black.

5. I am convinced that challenging times come so we will grow and change....and that is the cheesiest thing I've ever typed.

Growth and change help prepare us for the next wave of sh*t hitting the fan...That's the second.

6. It occurred to me that we need a live edition of Porn Chess. A bunch of nekkid white people standing on squares for hours on end is just what we need in these troubling times.

7. I wonder why so many people pooch out their lips like rappers whenever someone takes their picture? It must relate somehow to the oddly formed finger gestures. White people are curious creatures. Many ARE what they watch on MTV.

Unknown


Pictured: White Gravy, Morningwood’s Resident Expert on Thangz and Thuggz Gangstah (or however they spell it)

Pictured: Morningwood’s Resident Expert on all Matters Hood, White Gravy, f’in ta cash someone’s check.



Morningwood Security Staff sports fierce looking casual wear. He will cut you.

8. The comedian, Stephen Wright, once said "I had a dream that all the aborted babies cameback, and boy were they pissed."

9. I am a big fan of XM radio, but they are raising the rate to listen online. THE MAN will get you every time.

10. I have become a late blooming fan of "Family Guy." I think it is well-written and funny, albeit Seth McFarlane is likely a hippie communist liberal pinko who voted for Kerry. David Kelly got me hooked on it, and many other Adult Swim cartoons. I sometimes consider the reaction I would have if I used powerful, exotic and mind altering psychedelic substances and then watched Adult Swim. Let's do that.

11. Later, my mood changes, and I wax nostalgic. I wish everything was in black & white. People are nicer to each other in black & white -- except for gangster pictures and Schindler's List of course.

12. I wonder if the sexist, sophomoric artwork we drew on the walls and desks at the law school are still there. There was one of a guy with a large penis -- large enough for a buxom and nekkid young woman to straddle it. She sported a riding crop, as if to control the movement of her "steed," so to speak. He called it "The Weiner Rider." The artist is a genius and a great human being. Rich, too. Yet this is the kind of thing that can get one kicked out of law school. Fourth Grade is never over for some of us. One of these days I shall post a facsimile of that drawing and get kicked out of Facebook.

13. I have so much stuff to do, it is easier if I don't do any of it. If I unpack a box, there is no place to put the contents. Everything in my home has a job right where it is, so I leave it alone.

14. My life is like a Pam Ewing dream. Sometimes it is going one way, and I've adjusted, and the next thing I know, it's all effed up and, oddly, Patrick Duffy is in my shower.

...ahhhh 'shrooms.


15. I really prefer English. Wal-Mart started this bi-lingual crap.

Oh Snap! This image is about 20 times funnier than the Mexican-English signs I found. This image is wrong because it stereotypes Wal-Mart lurkers. Accordingly, Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd., and the author vociferously, obstreperously, and boisterously condemn this image.





16. I'm not so sure I care about the Middle East, because it is chock full of muslims. I am a confirmed xenophobe. I believe the vast majority of them want to destroy Western Civilization. I've been perturbed at the whole arab species since the Iranians kidnapped our diplomats in 1979. I do know this: people over there don't like tall things, or innocent women and children, do they? Strange species indeed. Wait. Iranians don't like to be called Arabs, do they? Good. I decided I no longer wish to "Co-Exist" as the hippie bumper strip suggests, with the muslims. They crazy. I mean all of that in a nice sort of way.



17. I still miss "The Far Side" cartoons. Several years ago, I bought a huge and heavy hardback platinum diamond space shuttle limited signed edition, which contained two volumes. It is possible to make a book that is too heavy. I've never looked at them, because I don't want to pick them up. I wish I were kidding, as they cost a lot of money. Maybe I was on something when I ordered them. The government has been drugging white people for years to get them to buy crap they don't need. Read your internet, son. It's all there. Or are you just too blind to see it, or too mute to admit it? Right. Here's my favorite Far Side, next to "Poodles of the Serengeti," for which I cannot find an image.


18. I miss the Dallas Morning News being delivered to Oklahoma City. The Daily Oklahoman is the most vomity newspaper in the history of the world. Imagine, if you will, a newspaper that carries TWO terrific crossword puzzles. Pages and pages of comics. Dependable movie reviews. And whatnot. NOT the Oklahoman. It's the Dallas Morning News. The Oklahoman is the only newspaper in America that is not worth its purchase price of fitty cent.

19. When I see an old person with lousy and annoying driving habits, I try to picture one of my grandparents driving, so I'll sprout some patience and compassion. It doesn't work though.

20. I hang out with the prettiest people I can find, because I want to become one too. I was told this is how it's done. I think it is working because I feel pretty most of the time.

Let me digress -- we definitely need more boy bands, but they put that creepy fat guy, Lou Pearlman, in jail. Now THAT was the day the music died. Pearlman invented and perfected the art and style of the Boy Band. You people who poke fun at the Back Street Boys have no comprehension of life and culture as most people understand it.



21. Here's whassup this Sunday morning. Groundhog Day Eve. I wish someone would invent a Lortab Tree. This tree wouldn't need soil, water, or air. it only takes 48 hours to grow 40 feet. It immediately sprouts cute little Lortabs all over. They are 15 mg, SON. No useless Tylenol either. If I had a pain some place, I could pluck one Lortab (or twenty) and take as directed (or as I wanted). Instantly, TWO more Lortab appear in that spot. Even if you sent the tree to Red Communist China, they'd never run out. The tree can't and won't die, because it is, I guess, just magical as hell. Sigh.....the world is happy, and everyone is hugging policemen for giving out tickets.


The useful Lortab: Nature's Candy

22. God has huge, soft hands, with built in padded guard rails, so that's where I try to hang out when people aren't acting exactly as I trained and expected them to act, or when I'm scared. Jodie Foster got butt nekkid in "Nell" (1994). Here's my favorite line from the film (besides the ones she delivered when she was butt nekkid).

"Everyone's frightened everywhere… the sweet Lord soothes our tears, and all of our fears."

23. In addition to pretty people, I like to hang out with people who are into the solution to problems we all face. They will help me with the dumb stuff I've gotten into. It's all trippy, but it works like an infomercial, bitches.

24. I think we encounter certain people for a reason. Sometimes it's merely to hone our ability to become super annoyed, super fast. I often meet people who teach or inspire me to say or do the right thing. (I never learned how to act right, and I am almost eligible to draw a check from the government). I am lucky I have so many bright and thoughtful people around who keep me on the right path, or help me fix the things I mess up.

25. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless; I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God; it changes me." --C.S. Lewis

I doubt C.S. Lewis had very many "issues."

26. The stage names of porn actors and actresses are endlessly creative, sometimes hilarious, and often suggestive, if one ponders them for a spell. Porn is wrong (in muslim countries and Utah).

Jus' sayin'.

© 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq. and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.