Happy New Year 2008!

All the best to you from Olaf, family, friends, and critters. Let's close the book on 2007 and make 2008 a year worth smiling over.

Got Those After Xmas Blues?

You're not alone, friend. You're not alone.

Your Good Big Brother Is Still With You

At the interstice between Xmas and New Years Day, it is good to remember that Olaf is watching over all things, even if he has been, um, delinquent in his postings lately. Perhaps 2008 will open new vistas or give him a clonk on the head so fucking serious that he will rave like the madman he truly wants to be. God knows there are many who would love to do some clonking on Olaf. For those of you in this corner of the Southwest, line up and I'll open my noggin to ya. No pointed objects, please.

With the assassination of Benazir Bhutto, suddenly Iraq recedes into the misadventure it has always been (never a threat) and Afghanistan, which squirted away thanks to the Iraqi distraction is now, along with the border region in Pakistan, hosting ever more Taliban. Pakistan immediately takes front and center, and here are the sobering facts. Pakistan is the sixth largest country in the world (bigger than Russia, as Joe Biden pointed out today) and they have nukes now, not in some uncertain and distant future like Iran. Their dispute with India over Kashmir and the bloody past mixed in with a potential political collapse if Musharraf goes the way of Ms. Bhutto's father or his murderers, Zia al Haq, could be the start of the first thermonuclear exchange. Heaven help us if that erupts.

Bombing the shit out of Iran doesn't seem so important or smart against backdrop, does it? But I'll just wager that Bush and Cheney are using this assassination in Pakistan as a veil under which to advance all their plans to do just that. Why?

I wish I knew, but they are nothing if not determined, even if it is by now driven only by madness.

Actually, however, I'm actually in a pretty good mood, despite the grim visage above. In my spare time I've been laying down tracks on what I think may be a pretty good tune, a rather upbeat thing with a nice swing to it. Don't have a title yet.

Happy New Year, y'all.

One Solution to the Television Writers' Strike

After we are all done stressing out to the max for the holidays, after all our family dramas have been thoroughly heated in the pressure cooker of our "perfect Xmas" mythology and all the sibling and parental issues have resurrected their ugly heads even though we've all been successful at playing grown-ups for decades, what are we left to do?

Well, sit back down in front of your new 56" HDTV and get ready for the second half of the season. Unfortunately, the writers are on strike, and speaking for myself, I don't think I can bear any more "reality" television that revolves around skanky love (Rock of Love, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, I Love New York 2, The Real World, etc.) without becoming a serious threat to civilized society.

But I was gratified to learn of a pilot for a really real reality show: Gitmo TV, a secret photograph I was able to cadge thanks to a lead from a favorite streetwalker along Rosenthalerstrasse, who directed me to a secret group of offices where the program is being hatched. It's in Berlin due to concerns of secrecy. Here's the concept.

In the first two episodes we will get to know twelve inmates at Gitmo, eleven of whom are innocent Afghan, Somali, Yemeni, and Iraqi shopkeepers and peasants, but one of whom is a seriously ambitious al Qaeda member with visions of 72 virgins dancing in his head. The identity of the al Qaeda member is unknown to anyone except the show's producer. Each week, the inmates will be given challenges, both in teams and as individuals. And every week, depending on the outcome and the discussion among the judges (a Cuban, an evangelical death penalty advocate, an atheistic alcoholic, an Islamic mullah, a devout Mormon, and a secular Jew), the audience will vote by phone ($0.90 per call) for which one of the inmates will be selected for various "repugnant acts," in the words of newly minted US Attorney General Mukasey, which might or might not constitute torture, like waterboarding ("It's like swimming," according to Senator Kit Bond (R-his own ass)), electric shock, freestyle Tasering, rumping with a broomstick, and other recreational activities.

All of this, of course, will be shot in High Definition Television with previously unused technology like "Invadocam" that can show the introduction of the "Giuliani broom handle" into the rectum of a losing inmate.

The final episode, of course, will result in the execution of an inmate as the "true terrorist" as selected by the viewing audience in a manner also to be selected by the viewing audience for the ultimate in democratic action in national security. I don't think Big Brother, the Amazing Race, or Survivor will ever be the same again after this.

You saw it here first.

"Chimpie" Is Retired

Regards and props to Dumb Drum Guy for spurring me into posting again. It's good to know you're out there. Thanks, man!

Now to bidness, as they say in Crawford, Texas.

After receiving the following letter accompanied by the photo of its author at home, above, I wish to offer my sincere apologies to the simian brother- and sisterhood for any offense. I am deeply, deeply sorry that I was so thick-headed that I could not see the obvious problem with the term "Chimpie." Here's the letter:

Dear Mr. Rotkohl,

First, let me say that I am a fan and, although I only rarely post comments, I keep your blog on my bookmarks list and check it regularly. Even my wife finds you amusing at times, and even informative now and then. However, there is a matter that I can no long keep my silence over, and now that you have my photograph, you may understand why.

I do recognize the resemblance between my species and the president, but while it may seem to be a comic reference in some contexts, it begins to wear rather thin, especially after nearly seven years of increasing criminality, incompetence, and dishonesty coming from this White House. Now, whenever I see "Chimpie" in your posts, I cringe to think that anyone would begin to think that we are somehow responsible for this particular simian dunce in the Oval Office. It's true we share nearly 99 percent of our DNA with your species, but that gives no license for you or anyone to slander us or any of the other great apes with responsibility for having produced this specimen.

This is not an issue of political correctness, as I hope you will see having received this letter. I doubt you have had much contact with chimpanzees on a close, one-to-one level, so I hope that it is only an oversight and a failure of your otherwise compassionate nature to make this nickname a handle for the president.

But don't stop hammering these people! They have fucked up our world too, you know.

Keep it real, Dude!

Sincerely,

Arthur M. de Saussure, PhD
Washington, D.C.

Global Warming May Be Bad, But It Gets Worse

I had to change into my cool yellow HazMat suit for this one. As you may have heard, the United Nations report on climate change is none too cheerful, and even as gloomy as it is, there is speculation that it is still too optimistic and that things are going to get far worse much quicker than is being reported. I understand the need for caution--we don't want global panic. But on the other hand, I feel it is my duty to my reader(s), which although declining (the number of my readers, not my duty) to reveal the heretofore hidden portions of the report.

So grab your favorite beverage, make it a double, then double that, and sit down for a minute. Here's what no one is telling you until now.

Godzilla is coming back. And this time, he's bringing his homies: the Giant Behemoth, Mothra, and Rodan. The increase in ocean temperatures has re-stimulated the regeneration capabilities of these various monsters' remaining parts in the various watery areas of the world where they have lain for several decades. Not since the nuclear bomb testing in the Pacific at places like Enewetak, Bikini Atoll, and Christmas Island has this phenomenon occurred, and the disaster that awaits us when these beasts arise from the seas will make global warming seem only a minor inconvenient truth. What's a hurricane compared to 20,000 tons of angry lizard who breathes radioactive fire? What's FEMA gonna do about that, eh?

Let me point out that one of the primary effects of Godzilla's radioactive breath is electromagnetic pulse (EMP), which will disable anything within range that contains microprocessors, and that means just about everything these days--automobiles, aircraft, communication systems, ovens, all computers of course, and even heart pacemakers (Sorry, Dick, but sometimes being an evil cyborg does have its disadvantages).

Stay tuned and start your bunker preparations. It's going to be every Jane and John for her- or himself when the giant lizards, insects, and pteranodons come over the horizon.

You've been warned.

Invaded Iraq, Who Didn't Attack Us, and Now Target Iran Although It's Police State Pakistan that has the Bomb

I can think of no one happier with George W. Bush than the guy who had his soul looked into by him--Vladimir Putin. Still a viable nuclear power, a potentially huge problem for Europe, and an ally of sorts to Iran, the Russian president has got to be laughing and laughing and laughing as the US finds that only 17 percent of Turkey's citizens like us, our "ally" Musharraf has declared a police state, and wherever Condi Rice goes for diplomatic kneebending, disaster follows.

With Musharraf going to ground, resistance and fighting may well break out in Pakistan for control of the country and its nuclear arsenal. Although the US is not in any danger from attack by Pakistan--they lack long-range delivery capability--if radical Muslim extremists topple the government, our posturing over Iran or bin Laden and the "smoking gun that is a mushroom cloud" (such a dumb pairing of tropes!) is going to be mooted, and our failure to close out the Taliban in Afghanistan will come back to haunt us.

Putin is an old KGB guy, and he knows how to exploit weakness, whether it is personal or national In some ways he is liberated completely from ideological concerns that constrained his Soviet forebears, and can play any advantage that we lay at his feet.

The Middle East is suppurating like an open wound, and it's going to seriously damage the defensive health of this nation--the real purpose of a US military establishment instead of this commercial protection racket that we're running now.

And yes, that's me in the mask, struggling to find some clean air.

Oh! The Hubris!

The "Lack of Self Awareness Award" for the entire decade has to go to Chimpie. I swear, this is someone with absolutely no shame, no knowledge of history, and the rhetorical integrity of the playground. From the AP today:

Bush argued the current debate over the Iraq war and the administration's anti-terror methods harkens back to debates decades ago over resisting action when Soviet founder Vladimir Lenin first talked about launching a communist revolution, when Adolf Hitler began moves to establish an "Aryan superstate" in Germany, and in the early days of the Cold War when some advocated accommodation of the Soviet Union.

"Now we're at the start of a new century, and the same debate is once again unfolding, this time regarding my policy in the Middle East," Bush said. "Once again, voices in Washington are arguing that the watchword of the policy should be stability."

Bush said any denial of war is dangerous.

"History teaches us that underestimating the words of evil, ambitious men is a terrible mistake," Bush said. "Bin Laden and his terrorist allies have made their intentions as clear as Lenin and Hitler before them. And the question is, will we listen?"

I only have one question, Mr. El Presidente--have you fucking caught bin Laden yet?"

Oh, and World War II lasted from September 1, 1939 until August 15, 1945, taking just under six years to defeat the German-Italian-Japanese Axis powers. It has now been six years and nearly two months since September 11, 2001. Osama bin Laden is still sending you videos. Al Qaeda, with no nation-state to work from, no armament factories, no natural resources, no defensible borders, no nuclear capability for either delivery or detonation, a disconnected network of freelance ideological operatives, is something you claim is as big a threat as was the Soviet Union or Nazi Germany and even requires more shredding of the Constitution than Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush Sr., or Clinton ever, EVER contemplated, let alone attempted.

The threat is overstated to serve your megalomaniacal lust, and yet you cannot even deliver up a skinny old man from a warren of caves to show for it.

What a fucking failure you are. Why couldn't you have just become baseball commissioner? At least that wouldn't have killed anyone and a real president could have had bin Laden and his cohort liquidated without breaking a sweat.

Failure.

How Europe Views America

We're about to fall hard on our ass, you see, and it's going to be pretty embarrassing.

The truth is, actually, that we are barely on their radar any longer. When I lived in Berlin thirty-five years ago, even after I got out of the military, I was acutely aware of my "American-ness" because of Vietnam, our support of the Shah of Iran, and, of course, our large military presence throughout Europe. Being an American meant facing a lot of questions, challenges, and sometimes outright hostility. Even as someone who disagreed with our foreign policy then, I felt obliged to defend our overall intent in trying to shape a better world, because I honestly believed then that although we were capable of making some pretty grievous mistakes, our goal was never to build an empire. In 1983 I was in the Netherlands and then Britain when Reagan opted to invade Grenada, and that was a bit tougher to balance. Actually, the Brits found it more comical than anything else.

With that on my mind on returning to Berlin and Prague two years ago, I discovered that things had changed quite a bit, and in a very unexpected way. That experience was echoed on these last two trips, and it's been a bit of a shock, I'll admit.

You see, we still view ourselves as the center of the world, and we have the idea that as the U.S. goes, the world follows. As the old adage goes, when the U.S. sneezes, the world gets a cold. But not anymore. And for citizens of "Old Europe," as Donald Rumsfeld called it in an effort to marginalize the greatest concentrated economic power on earth, they don't really think that much about what we're up to.

In Europe, so far as I can tell, the U.S. has become almost irrelevant, more like a sideshow. Oh, they're aware of our travails and triumphs, but they don't really place us at the center of global events and concerns. With the European Union now greater than the United States in terms of population, GDP, exports, and global influence through diplomacy, and no longer dependent on U.S. nuclear deterrent to keep the Russians at bay, they've turned their attentions to expanding their markets and influence while we squander our Cold War victory in the sands of Iraq. And although I am grateful that my nationality provoked nothing but friendliness everywhere I went, it was curious indeed to suddenly confront the feeling of being a citizen of a country that was now almost marginal insofar as the people of Europe were concerned.

Oh, and poor too. Have you looked at the value of the dollar vs. the euro lately? Sheesh!

Actually, this fellow in the photo didn't fall--he was break dancing and quite skilled enough to pull this stunt off. I'm afraid we might not be so lucky.

One of the War Criminals Gets a Taste of Code Pink

It's been said enough times that for evil to triumph, it is only necessary for good men to do nothing. Watch this video of a confrontation of Condi "the Incompetent" Rice by a Code Pink activist. Then watch the more disturbing part following her ejection: all members of Code Pink who were innocently sitting quietly were forcibly ejected by chamber police. Having just returned from Berlin, I don't have to say explicitly what it reminds me of.

Back in the USSA

Well, it was a grand three weeks, and I even had a delightful flight back, thanks to SeatGuru and a jovial Irish seatmate for the long leg back over the Atlantic and the North American continent. I'm still processing the effects on my psyche and on my physik (a nagging bug of some kind, slowly abating), slogging through the conversion of sound files I recorded around Berlin, reviewing the hundreds of images I snapped, and strutting around in my new black t-shirts that say things like "Feindkontact" and "Kampf gegen Rassismus." I also brought back a stack of CDs thanks to some very cool people in actual record stores (!!!), who, when I expressed my desire to tap into the Industrial music scene and the Berlin techno current, plucked out many, many examples for me to listen to before making a decision. If you are a vinyl freak (I mean for listening, not for wearing, not that there's anything wrong with it), you'd be in heaven. I cannot begin to describe the variety of new and especially vintage vinyl records that can be found in these same record stores and in the many flea markets. I happen to be one of those people who still hangs grimly onto his old records and turntable, despite owning more than one iPod, and I wish the damned things didn't weigh so much--I would have brought back a carload. I still wet my pants when I hear the needle settling in the groove before the first song begins.

Meanwhile, I see that the Larry Craig business is still current, which is really rather appalling (what is it with sex scandals in this country?), and the jello-spined Democrats have equaled in cowardice the brutality and criminality of the Bush administration, and I realize how much easier life here would be if I could just get an inexhaustible supply of Xanax and Zubrowka vodka. Do Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid know that they are the majority party? So what if the Republicans threaten filibuster? Let them do it, fer chrissakes. Bush vetoes a bill popular with 81% of Americans and you can't organize an override (S-CHIP)? What would those Republicans do to you in similar circumstances? Did Tom "Cockroach" DeLay roll over and beg you to quit being meanies?

Oh crap. Now I'm coughing my guts out. Must not get excited. Must not get excited. Think of mountain meadows, wispy clouds, a spotted fawn prancing in a sunbeam...

Getting back to the Larry Craig thing, I have to admit to a mixed feeling. On the one hand, it delights me to see virulent anti-gay Republicans nabbed in sex stings. On the other, it's really a sad testimony to our repressive society that cops have to spend time cruising undercover to bust desperately closeted men seeking sex in public crappers. If only these dudes could be openly gay, perhaps we could--oh, I don't know--stop more murderers, nab more drunken drivers, or stop a few more thousand instances of domestic violence. Still, you've got to love the discord this has created for the Repugs.

Finally, congratulations to Chimpie, who has managed to turn a lesser threat--terrorism--into a greater one as in the possibility of global thermonuclear exchange as he gives Putin perfect opportunities to twist our tail on Iran and Iraq. Has he ever looked at a fucking map? With the oil resources of Russia and the influence of Iran on the Middle East, their unity against the U.S. could really fuck us over. Given Bush's phony masculine posturing on everything, Putin is playing him for a bigger jackass than even I thought Bush was capable of becoming. God, I hope somebody in the Defense Department will tell him that the Russkies still have nukes and can still deliver them well enough to create the end for everyone. I thought Bush saw into Putin's soul? I know that Bush was coked out and drunk for most of the Cold War, but didn't something from the era slip into that grey mush in his skull? And this ought to frost him: Putin has 80 percent popularity as Bush slips toward 20 percent. Of course, like Putin, Bush doesn't really have an opposition party, so I guess he can drag us into war with Iran, then Russia, and then we'll all shake hands with the devil.

Good night.

Out for now. Hope you all enjoyed my absence.

Well, We're Off...

...and alas, Dorothy must remain behind, dreaming of Berlin. But she has a plan, I know. Ms. D. will no doubt slyly seduce our lovely house sitter into spoiling her rotten with kindness and long walks and endless ear scratching, not to mention fat marrow bones now and then gnawed under a cornflower blue sky in the mountains. What does Dorothy do on her days off, I wonder.

If I can, I'll post (not taking a computer) from any cafe that is equipped and is affordable by dollar-poor American visitors.

Am I excited? Unbelievably. The perfect vacation of total leisure mixed with foreign urban energy, stirred lightly with a soupcon of the unknown and then washed thoroughly with beer brewed under strict purity laws: hops, barley, water, and yeast. Wunderbar!

National Strike, October 17, 2007

This shit works. If everyone who has to work for a paycheck takes the day off (excepting, of course, those in direct life-support positions), buys nothing, produces nothing, transports nothing, the wheels of industry are going to stutter, and some motherfuckers are going to have to wake up to the will of the people.

It couldn't hurt. Pass it on!

Berlin on My Mind

Apologies to MB, but Darlin' I am off to Berlin again in ten days or so to regenerate some energy and sanity and, of course, drool over a few Citroens and get some hip new duds. Also, I'll be recording sounds of the city on my nifty microdigital recorder and stereo microphone for ultimate use in an entirely new genre of music--Rot n' Kohl. Catch the wave, my friends, for you can say you knew me when.

I have tried writing about the Petraeus hearings and really can't say anything new--it was a big Kabuki dance, with more of the same shit predicted and realized. Chimpie goes on TV tomorrow night to tell us how he's going to follow the General's recommendations, which conveniently frame what was already planned to happen--3000 Marines already scheduled to leave will leave, but Bush will take credit as if he has actually done any fucking thing, and by next summer another 30,000 already scheduled will return, leaving Iraq in chaos still, and still 130,000 Americans in harm's way.

The only comparably cynical comparison is Henry Kissinger's "Decent Interval" which was designed to distance him from the ultimate collapse of South Vietnam that was largely his responsibility. Chimpie will hand his successor this steaming, fiery pile and go off to torture his legacy into something other than the grand clusterfuck of America it has been.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Ya gotta luv Larry Craig. Now we hear he is giving the finger to all the Repubs who want him to resign and possibly withdrawing his offer to step down. Talk about keeping a story alive!

I was hoping that someone would attack me about Craig, citing Clinton/Lewinsky claiming harassment by the Minneapolis PD, invasion of privacy, that cops shouldn't be hanging out in airport crappers, or something. Anticipating such remarks, let me ask this:

If your nine-year-old son was taking a dump in a stall adjacent to Senator Craig, would you feel that the police have no place setting up stings in airport restrooms?

One of the things that just cracks me up about Craig is this tidbit from the police interview transcript (LC is Senator Larry Craig, DK is Minneapolis police Sgt. Dave Karsnia :

LC: Did I slide them too close to yours? Did I, I looked down once, your foot was close to mine.

DK Yes.

LC Did we bump? Ah, you said so, I don't recall that, but apparently we were close.

DK Yeah, well your foot did touch mine, on my side of the stall.

LC: All right.

DK: Okay. And then with the hand. Urn, how many times did you put your hand under the stall?

LC: I don't recall. I remember reaching down once. There was a piece of toilet paper back behind me and picking it up.

Here is the smoking gun that Craig is lying--do you honestly believe that anyone, and particularly a United States Senator, would pick up a piece of toilet paper from the floor of a international airport public restroom? Would you do it? A US Senator is someone who gets his ass licked constantly, has an enormous staff to clean up his physical and political messes, and is likely to be considered among the two or three hundred most arrogant people on planet Earth. So Larry was just doing a little tidying up in the shitter?

Yeah, and Saddam had weapons of mass destruction.

Hang in there Larry! Leno and Letterman and Stewart need you!

Say Hello to Dorothy

Hello, Dorothy!

Four-weeks-off Musings

First of all, the picture above is one of the reasons I live where I do--there is frequently drama of the natural kind. Late this afternoon the storm clouds were erupting over the mountains north of us and "threatening" us with the promise of much-needed rain. The low sun to the west lighted the dried grass against the darkening sky to the northeast and the long shadows pulled it all together. Mrs. Olaf was ahead of me and ahead of her was Dorothy, our newly rescued pooch, of more anon.

Second musing: Is it possible that the reason we have not had any terrorist attacks on the U.S. since 9/11 is that old adage, "Never get in the way of someone determined to destroy himself"? The PR overkill on this coming bogus report on Iraq and the predictable kneepad press response to it means more months and years of the quagmire, with war speculators continue to reap riches from the public coffers and the war criminals retiring into gated, taxpayer paid protected lives, the remainder of which will be spent circling among the remaining psychological bunker mates on how principled and strong they were to press this disaster on the world.

Third: A return to Berlin is imminent. I have been debating whether or not to take a laptop, because it would be fun to blog day-by day, posting pictures and perhaps even sounds of the city of my heart. On the other hand, a computer is a distraction from life, particularly on vacation. Not that that will keep me from dropping into an Internet cafe now and then. On yet another hand, having one's own laptop and an apartment high-speed connection would allow evening wrap-ups, at least on the evening when I wasn't drinking myself into oblivion and crawling kneipe to lokal around Kreuzberg.

Fourth: Would all of the gay closeted Republican gay-bashers please out themselves? Nobody but the nuttiest nuts gives a shit how you get your rocks off, just so long as we can take a shit in an airport restroom in peace. Keep sex and religion where they should be--private and personal. Boning in public restrooms is, not to mention the hygienic aspects, rather pathetic. By being openly gay you're going to score a hell of a lot more than by cruising, unless, that is, you like getting disciplined by policemen. In that case, tap on, dudes!

Fifth: Katarina Witt, if you are reading this, I hope I run into you again on the Oranienburgerstrasse and don't lose my nerve to approach and tell you how amazing your Winter Olympics performances in Sarajevo and Calgary were--absolutely transformative. And, now that I have finished Gunter Grass' recent book Peeling the Onion, I suppose understand the context in which you became a Stasi informant. That's a pretty heartbreaking thing to learn about a woman I love. I still hope you're hangin' in Mitte.

Sixth: Dorothy just came through her dog door into the house, reminding me to mention her. She's a two-year-old mutt, spent over a year in a no-kill shelter (those people are saints), and has revealed herself to be a true sweetie and a damned good dog. She barks very, very rarely, can be walked off-leash thanks to an instant response to commands, and is the quickest learner of any dog I've been a pal to. Our eyes still mist up thinking about dear old Daisy, but she went to her greater reward after a long, full life, and I think she would have approved.

Yes, dogs are definitely a weakness for me, which Mrs. Olaf knew back in early May when she tricked me into going to the "Adopt-a-thon" at a local park. Once I walked Dorothy around the park, it was all over for me.

Anyway, I'll post a picture later, or sometime tomorrow. As my only reader, I'll be thrilled to see it.

Adieu for the nonce.

What Would Be a Fitting End to Shark Week

Mrs. Olaf, since being traumatized at age seven by the movie Jaws, makes a point every year of keep the channel set to the Discovery Channel during Shark Week. Her older sister, apparently even more damaged by that event, records the week in its entirety for viewing at leisure.

And I got to tell you--it's a hoot. Amazing what fools will do for sciencetainment. Here--rub this gore all over you, and swim over to those circling tiger sharks. We'll prove once and for all that it's a myth about them being man eaters.

Oooooh. That was not pretty. But it was good TV!

Anyway, this is my tribute to Shark Week. Thanks Discovery, for a stellar viewing experience.

Well, I'm Runnin'/Police on my Back...

My buddies invited me out the other night to go clubbing, but I was hardly prepared for what they had in mind. Jeezus! What happened to Officer Friendly?

In Soviet USA...

These jokes used to be funny. You know, "In Soviet Russia, television watches you!" Or "In Soviet Russia, hamburger eats you!" "In Soviet Russia, car drives you!" You get the idea.

But with the White House and Congressional repugs trying to shove a FISA-free, warrantless snooping bill through again, this collection of jokes may well be back in fashion--in this country. Among the Bush/Cheney crime sydicate this is just one of many impeachable offenses, but it is likely the most corrosive of all the others, because it pulls aside the last compulsory oversight on protection of the privacy of the citizenry. Certainly, absolutely, wiretaps, email captures, bugging, any and all communications intercept should be used against suspected targets, but first (or even subsequent to the act, as allowed by law in emergencies), a duly-appointed court must ensure that some evidence exists for the warrant.

So in the interest of lightening things up, send me your favorite examples of this gag. It starts with, "In Soviet America..."

...and then the Fires of Hell

Oh, Dickie, even if a special prosecutor doesn't put you in gaol (don't you love that spelling?), there is a far darker presence waiting for you on the other side after you've slid into the gullet of the hound of hell and digested for a while. I daresay that eternity doesn't seem long enough.

In the meantime, the only thing standing between the Bush-Cheney cabal and some serious prosecution is the thin--and quite dim--reed of Alberto "Torture Boy" Gonzalez, whose testimony before the Senate subcommittee yesterday was virtually a confession of high crimes in the executive branch. Even Arlen Specter jumped in to get his television time as a "tough prosecutor, but of course today, after the Dems issued subpoenas and contempt charges, he morphed back into a Bush crack-licking errand boy and claimed they were going too far.

This doesn't excuse the Dems, of course, who by now should have articles of impeachment and huge armies of supporters ringing the White House demanding resignation. "Gotov je!" He's finished. But they won't do it, because in the end, the leadership of the Democratic Party identifies with the Repubs in terms of class affiliation, something we don't seem to recognize in this country. They pretend to be an opposition party and we keep falling for it. Until a viable third party starts tearing into this kabuki dance, we're going to continue to slither first into moral and economic bankruptcy and then into irrelevance. And I, as an American, a proud American for the real country this should be, am fighting and spitting mad about it.

So what shall we do, eh?

The Dogs of Hell

Not much visibility for Dickie lately, and I think it may be because when he's alone in his bunker with just his ink pad and his giant classification stamp, when he turns off Fox Noise and locks Lynne back into her crypt, I think he hears these hounds howling for him, and I think for the first time in his life he grasps that he may go the way of so many tyrants.

Because Karma, sweet thing, really is a bitch.

Quasi-related Picture, but a Healthy Rant

Steam of consciousness, dudes. Kinda long, but it's my blog, man. Deal with it.

First of all, I have never understood the hysteria that accompanies the threat of terrorism. Yes, 9-11 was a horrible crime of mass murder, but compared to disasters elsewhere in time and space, it is no more than a modern expression of time-honored tactics in service to strategic aims, which are in reality hollow fantasies. Does al Qaeda really pose a threat to our existence as a nation? Even if some fanatics were able to detonate a small nuclear weapon in a major city, as horrible as that idea is, would that not be the absolute maximum limit of their feeble power of terrorism? And aside from considering the extreme difficulty in putting together such an act, how does this compare to the past and newly relevant power possessed by Russia in the form of real nuclear weapons sitting atop working ICBMs? Given Bush’s idiotic destruction of the ABM treaty and his insane insistence in further enriching the defense companies with huge contracts for a fantasy “Star Wars” system in eastern Europe, I find the potential threat of terrorism to be severely limited and quite possibly thwarted altogether through both international policing and diplomatic efforts combined with some self-control in the use of petroleum.

What I’m getting at is that Bush and his minions are the primary benefactors to our national hysteria, as it has proven to cement their power and even fool the nation into entering into a war against the weakest nation in the Middle East, which did not possess any threatening means of attack on our country AT ALL. Hans Blix, head of the UN Disarmament team had said so, as had Scott Ritter, as well as Mohammed al Baradei (head of the International Atomic Energy Agency), and these men were closer to the action in Iraq than anyone else. I won’t presume to guess the motives behind the Bush/Cheney obsession with war in Iraq (Oedipal and financial, I’m sure), but since we now all are witness to the absolute disaster spewing up in the wake of its execution, I can at least call them incompetent liars, and if not Hitlerian in any other respect, similar to the Fuhrer in at least the complete inability to accept a reality so pressing upon them as to squash them flat.

When we look at how terror plots have been foiled throughout recent history, it seems that it really is a police function that works the best. In Spain, Britain, Italy, Germany, and in this country, it was not military action that thwarted plots or caught the perpetrators after the fact, but rather the careful investigatory and intelligence techniques that brought terrorists to justice. Even our foray into Afghanistan, which I supported, has done little to quash al Qaeda, as it seems even stronger now and much more diverse and need only retreat into “friendly” Pakistan to continue operations. What good is our military if we fear to tread across the border of an ally so shaky as Pakistan’s yet manage to kill 3500+ of our own and permanently maim tens of thousands of others in a pointless war in Iraq? Frankly, it astounds me that we failed to pursue al Qaeda into the one place we know they went, particularly after Musharraf’s government started making deals with the very tribes who were sheltering bin Laden and his gang.

We are all old enough to remember a time (not necessarily over yet, thanks to Bush’s provocations of Russia) when a power existed that had the means, the method, and the motivation to annihilate the United States, and, of course, in turn be annihilated. The Cold War was a truly terrifying period in our history where we really were facing the end of our way of life, and perhaps that of the planet. To their credit, the Soviets were not religious fanatics nor crazy for some other reason, and so our stalemate held for decades. Against that potential, the means and methods available to terrorist units are so utterly paltry that it seems almost absurd to have tied up our entire military establishment to stop them. Our vulnerabilities seem to have increased as a result of following the Bush-Cheney doctrine. And our solutions to such vulnerabilities are clearly more educational, cultural, and economic than martial—something completely beyond the grasp of the phony macho cult in the White House.

If we really think we need the Middle East (and so long as we are addicted to their oil, that’s the sad fact), then we should be doing blitzkrieg attacks to modernize, secularize, and thoroughly democratize them through the means we handle best—the overpowering juggernaut of American material culture. But perhaps that is not realistic—after all, the most severely Islamic countries are highly resistant to Western ways, and the reason al Qaeda exists seems partly to be in reaction to the presence of corrupting values coming from our shores.

So perhaps a different tack is needed. I’d propose that if we could wean ourselves from Middle East oil—and I think it is doable if we could only commit at the Manhattan Project or Moon Landing level—then we could simply wash our hands of the entire region. If, ultimately, the Middle East does become a caliphate shaped around a 13th century orthodoxy, what bother to us is that? As it stands, even the most modern Islamic nations are so hobbled by their religious leaders, ridiculous world views, and pathological hatred and fear of Jews (a billion Muslims terrified of 15 million chosen people!) that not one of them can function as a truly modern industrial nation, nor field a military that could defeat Slovenia’s. If the US had no more need of their oil, and the mullahs and madrassas did come to control the future of the region, it would only regress into virtual irrelevance. With half their populations relegated to illiteracy and servitude (women) and their male citizens primarily educated in the broad teachings of an alleged prophet, and with the continuation of the Shiite/Sunni schism and the resultant squabbles over ever-shrinking resources, their version of civilization would be a threat only to itself. Without anything that anyone else needs, rather than entangling ourselves in the Islamic world’s insoluble problems, we could solve our own while eliminating a variable from our economy that has caused nothing but trouble for five decades.

As for “them” coming over here after us if we leave Iraq, I find the notion laughable. If we were no longer on their turf trying to make them all into good little Americans (and given our support of tyrannical regimes like Saudi Arabia, that hypocrisy is long overdue for retirement), they will have their hands full killing and converting each other, without the economic or technical means to even keep the water and electricity delivered. I expect that some of the more secular nations in the region may escape the collapse that will follow a return to talabanic orthodoxy, but they will be under constant threat of terror more than we shall be. After all, being an infidel is not nearly so sinful as having forsaken the one true faith. We may continue to be the great Satan, but to what purpose will blowing us up be if Arabs and Persians are defecting from Islam in pursuit of some semblance of 21st century living?

Soon! Don't Miss It!

Stay tuned for future tour dates! Coming soon to the collectivist concert halls near YOU! Click on the poster for your very own large copy suitable for power poles, elementary school bulletin boards, and corporate cubicles and message boards.

Gonzo As I See Him and How I'd Like to See Him

I couldn't resist messing with a news photo of Alberto "Torture Boy" Gonzalez and turning it into a rather artful (in my opinion) caricature. But I thought, you know, that it was somehow incomplete, as if Torture Boy really hadn't found his power spot at the Justice Department. With all the nasty revelations seeping out about GonzoGate, I suddenly could envision precisely where that power spot would be.

I think he looks quite properly in his place here, don't you?

On the Road to Capitalism

I guess I could plead that I've been woodshedding and that's why posting has been non-existent for a few weeks, so what the hell--I will plead that. You see, I realize that the key to any success in this market, any market, is branding. That's right--I've been developing Olaf as a brand. So I want to share four potential logos with you, and your votes will carry a great deal of weight.

Am I selling out to capitalism and the capitalists? Heh-heh-heh. Only Olaf knows.

Oh, and you can click on any one of the logos to get a larger version. Vote early, vote often.

Fearless Leader

I'm the Decider.
Mission Accomplished.
(Ain't I macho? I wonder if Angela Merkel's gonna serve that pig...)

Let's Cleanse the Palate

Jeez, that steaming pile is disturbing to look at, to be sure, but then I remember what prompted me to post it. However, to all of you, I apologize if your lunch was ruined. As a mea culpa, let me post some Citroen porno. Yeah, I know none of you share my love of these cars, but I saw one from the 1970s last week tooling down our main drag in town. This one pictured is a later model spotted in Prenzlauerberg (Berlin), but still wickedly seductive.

By the way, I may start uploading snippets of Olaf music, produced by the next big thing on the pop charts--Olaf Rotkohl and the Ratdogs. If you're into techno-reggae-trance-heavy metal-surf music, let me know. The Ratdogs will be pleased to hear you.

P.O.S., with apologies to Mr. Hanky

This single image summarizes the courage of the Democrats, the ethics, intelligence, and competence of the Republicans, and the ultimate destiny for this country without a major shift in the political tectonics.

If you don't concur, then read this piece on the "Cheney" Democrats. Shit.

Democrats: Party of Wimps

The reason I am a registered independent is because as much as I loathe the Republican Party for its arrogance, corruption, and incompetence, I equally loathe the Democrats for gutlessness. Just now I watched David Obey and Nancy Pelosi roll over and beg Chimpie not to beat them anymore. Disgusting.

The Democrats ought to be crucifying Bush and company for the catastrophe that they have created internationally and domestically, but instead they just grease their cheeks and grab their ankles--not because they have to, mind you, but only because its how they think an opposition fights.

Fuck you, Chimpie. And fuck you, Democratic Party. I hope you all burn in hell for all eternity.

The Last Thing Jerry Falwell Sees

Well, Mr. "Moral Majority"--I guess for you the debate is settled as to whether there is an afterlife.

Anne Coulter: Naked!

This explains a lot. I can't say that I'm surprised in the least, however.

Critical Moment in History Revisited and Revealed!

Was Olaf involved in the cover-up? How did Oliver Stone miss this one? To tell you the truth, I think I was only twelve years old at the time, so I'm as surprised as you at this newly discovered news photo from the Fort Worth Courier's archives. It's true that I had the goatee then--I was a bass clarinet student and idolized Eric Dolphy--but I don't remember being in Texas until some time later.

Of course, given the rash of alien abductions around here lately in the Southwest, particularly in the mountains (information about which is brutally suppressed), and the coincidental time and space displacements, anything is possible.

I've been given some mild scoldings about my failure to post in weeks, but I have to beg forgiveness for a couple of reasons. For one, I simply stand in awe at my own prowess at predicting the disasters that this administration would visit upon us, while simultaneously awed by the ability of these criminals to exceed even my worst imaginings. Looking back two years, I was then writing things that Mrs. Olaf and her family back East said were "too extreme" or at least "overstatements." I am now gratefully receiving the "You were right, we were wrong" admissions from that side of the clan, but it leaves only a taste of ash in my mouth. Watching the Republican "debate" tonight I am appalled to see that a whole new clutch of purveyors of stupidity and pandering is hoping to break the unprecedented Bush record of failure.

The second reason for not writing is that the urge to always include a photo or drawing has raised the bar for someone so visually uncreative as I, and frankly I just don't feel like lugging my camera around town. You see, it's an old Kodak digital unit, still quite capable but far too large and I just can't bring myself to spend $$$ on a new pocket-sized unit while this one still does the job. That's the trouble with being frugal and faithful to inanimate objects--a crippling neuroses to be sure.

Finally, my third excuse is that I have only a hazy memory of the last few weeks, and according to my sources, this in itself could be indication of alien abduction, particularly since I have vehemently denounced such claims as ridiculous fantasies of lonely souls or professional con artists. You see, my resistance to such ideas verifies them. Talk about your rhetorical fallacies!

But what if they're right? Is my DNA being spirited off to that other earthlike planet circling red dwarf sun Gliese 581? Do you realize that that would make me kind of a god there? Tres cool!

Anyway, I'll get my act together here in the next few days as I marshall my muses and furies to get back on that horse of vitriol and bombast.

So until the next posting--soon, soon, I promise--good night and sweet dreams.

A Small Fantasy

Oh, how I've come to love the music of Laura Veirs, even though Mrs. Olaf and I had to walk out of her performance at Tacheles in Berlin last August. You see, the club was about the size of your average living room, in what looked like a bombed-out cavern. There were so many people in the club that the temperature had risen 30 degrees above ambient, and yet even more people were coming in. We managed to grab a beer thanks to heroic mob plunging by yours truly, and then we stood for 45 minutes waiting for the opening act. More people surged in. The temperature got even higher. The only restroom lay on the far side of the space, and people were wedged up against the door. It was time for Laura Veirs.

Ms. Veirs and the Tortured Souls were late.

At last, after an hour and a half pressure cooking in that meat chamber, the band came on. Mrs. Olaf noted, "No fire suppression system in here." Did I mention that everyone, including us (out of self defense) was smoking? Although Mrs. Olaf is tall, she was squeezed in so tight that she could only catch glimpses of the stage. We were both drenched in sweat. More people squeezed in.

We lasted for two songs. I thought I would pass out. The air was blue and we were physically resisting attempts to reach the bar through us, until people were literally vaulting over the crowd to get a drink. I have never been in such a crush in my entire life. Somehow, through sheer determination, we pushed out through the mob and into the hallway, and thence into the cool summer evening.

"The 'Tortured Souls'?" Mrs. Olaf said. "How about the 'Tortured Audience'?"

And we both cracked up. We're just too old for that scene, and that's a shame because Ms. Veirs is a wonderful songwriter and a solid performer. It's just that this venue--compared to the previous evening when we'd sat in the Club b-flat, sipping single malt, beer chasers, and sitting within chatting distance of a fucking incredible quartet--was like a college exercise not unlike stuffing a Volkswagen that had been driven into a steam room.

But I still dig Laura Veirs, and someday, in my miserable fantasy existence, we're gigging together.

I still feel bad about leaving early. Sorry, Laura.

Happy Friday the 13th

Not a particularly auspicious day, I'd say. Good thing I've got a thick skull.

My Contribution to Global Warming

This is The Beast, which gets 14 mpg going uphill, downhill, loaded, empty, windward, leeward like some great constant of the Universe. Of course, it only gets driven two or three thousand miles per year, but I guess I've got some dues to pay. However, I have a question for the Bush administration whenever I fill the tank and it costs me $75.

How come gas isn't free, you assholes? I thought we were supposed to own the goddamned Middle East by now. And yet today a suicide bomber got into the Iraqi parliament in the Green Zone.

Meanwhile, Karl Rove seems to have misplaced his emails, and fellow boy genius architect of the Iraq War, Paul Wolfowitz, not satisfied with fucking up the military and relations with the rest of the world, aims to destroy even more of it through the World Bank.

In 231 years of U.S. history, I cannot find six consecutive years so filled with utter arrogance mixed thoroughly with absolute ignorance and expressed through total incompetence finely ground with dishonesty and corruption.

Mission accomplished.

When Is a Dick a Dick and not a Johnson?

One of my spies sent this in. I don't know the meaning of it, but it's worth a post.

Citroen Porn

Sorry about the hiatus, but I really haven't had much to say, partly because the insanity of the Bushits is so self-evident and partly because I've really not felt very witty or in the mood for biting, self-referential, bile-spewing rhetoric. Daisy (see previous post) was my editor-in-chief and primary muse--she was taciturn and quite economical with her comments, but when she voiced an opinion, it carried great weight. It's too, too quiet around here now.

So if you'll indulge me a little transitional period, I thought I'd share some of my favorite automobile pornography, which involves, naturally, Citroens. This little orange number struck me as a nearly perfect urban vehicle in terms of design. So far as I know, this model--the C3 Puriel--is not the greatest, mechanically speaking, and really, who needs a car in any city and country with good public transportation? Still, we're not likely to shift out of our American auto-addicted lifestyle soon, but using cute little bugs like this one could go a long way to cutting fuel use and restoring some fun to driving. And Dude, it's French.

No Friend More Loyal, None So Sweet Nor Kind

Daisy (1994-2007)

Rest in Peace

Hanging Chez Rotkohl

No peace, even at home. Sheesh.

A Tip for Ann Coulter

Inspired by Ann Coulter's remarks to applauding Republicans regarding John Edwards, I was going to write something about Ann Coulter, but I understand you have to go into rehab if you use the words "malignant cunt."

This sort of rhetorical trick is called praeteritio, in which you say something by saying you're not going to say it. For example, "Other people might call Ann Coulter a cancerous cadaverous cunt, but I wouldn't." Or, "I am not going to dignify those comments that Ann Coulter is a pus-filled running sore of a cunt."

See how it works? And Ann, you know you'd do a lot more good for the world if you'd work on your fellatio instead of your putrid praeteritio. God knows how your fellow fascistas could use some oral.

Walter Reed, Dick Cheney, and Scooter

The scandal at Walter Reed and in the care of veterans beyond inpatient status in the VA should not surprise anyone--it is yet another product of the utter incompetence of this administration. Given that Bush and Cheney both managed to avoid having to ever actually face these systems by evading their military obligations, it should come as no surprise that they are surprised to discover that the result of war is a long, long trail that far outlasts the memory of that war. My next-door neighbor had his spine severed in 1950 in the Korean War and has been wheelchair bound ever since. How many Americans even know there was a war on the Korean peninsula, or if they heard of it, how many could even give the dates for it? And yet John and veterans of that war and others who sacrificed life and limb and face the rest of their lives with injuries beyond most of our imaginations are our moral obligation for what we have asked of them.

Cheney had a blod clot today? He should have been put at the back of the VA queue for administration of his treatment, and that queue is currently a year deep. Bush had a growth on his face that needed removal and biopsy? Back of the queue, Jack. Congressman Shithead needs a rectal? End of the line until every fucking vet's case has been seen to first.

Unrealistic? Well, ask those vets with grave injuries who've waited as long as a year to receive their disability status, never mind payment.

Oh yeah--Scooter is guilty of felonies four time over. Time to flip on Cheney, Dude. He ain't worth one second of jail time. Think of your family, not to mention how happy we'd be to see Dickfuck sent up the river.

ITMFA

Both of 'em. Now.

Olaf's Workshop...and I'm Going Mad, I Fear

Let me get this straight--the Bush administration is funding Sunni and al Qaeda elements to reduce Shiite influence? Al Qaeda? If Seymour Hersh is right, this is the equivalent of the Iran-Contra affair combined with Watergate, only worse. Funneling money to the group responsible for 9/11? Jesus H. Christ--even I haven't been accused of anything that sick.

What the fuck is going on? And now Condi "Maximum Incompetence" Rice thinks Saddam was the equal of Hitler and that this fiasco in Iraq bears any resemblance to World War II?

Why isn't there a march on Washington?

Oh, the picture is of my bunker cum workshop where I hunker in the fetal position most days, glancing only briefly at my monitor to prevent head explosions. Just thought you'd like to picture me in my underground lair. I relocated here trying to cheer myself up after Chimpie's reelection, but it didn't do any good. He and his limitlessly incompetent and evil minions are still there. Maybe I'll go back to lining my cap with aluminum foil.

The vise and grinder are more useful than you can imagine. I've also got electrodes with nipple clamps, a bandsaw, a pre-1962 deep-fat fryer, and over two hundred pounds of reconstitutable chicken fat. Next project--periscope. If you've got any info on a WWII-vintage U-boat type, drop me a line. I'm also trying to get a good deal on bulk latex.

Not Worth the Mud Clogged in Harry's Boots

Unlike one "head of state" and his deranged veep who weasled their way through their military obligations when other young men and women were dying in the jungles of Vietnam in their stead, young Prince Harry understands the meaning of duty, comradeship, and leadership. Even as the British are winding down their involvement in this fiasco, this royal son will not shirk the service that no one would blame him for avoiding at this point. And one thing is for sure--Harry won't be stuffing socks into his crotch while playing dress-up warrior.

My hat's off to you son. Stay safe. Our "commander in chief" isn't fit to carry your dirty socks.