Wednesday, August 08, 2007

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.

Monday, July 30, 2007

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..."

Thursday, July 26, 2007

...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?

Thursday, July 12, 2007

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.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

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?

Monday, June 25, 2007

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.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

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.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Fearless Leader

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

Friday, May 25, 2007

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.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

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.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Friday, May 04, 2007

Anne Coulter: Naked!


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

Thursday, May 03, 2007

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.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

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.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Happy Friday the 13th


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

Thursday, April 12, 2007

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.

Saturday, March 31, 2007

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.