Archive for May, 2006

Does Pat Robertson also possess Heat Vision?

Thursday, May 25th, 2006

Did you know that Pat Robertson, through rigorous training, leg-pressed 2,000 pounds! How did he do it?

Watch a video of Pat leg-pressing 1,000 pounds.

So Pat Robertson has a protein shake for sale. Put yourself on the Pat Robertson Protein Shake diet, and you too will be able to leg-press 2,000 pounds. Perhaps even more, seeing as how Pat Robertson is 76 years of age… perhaps even more, that is, if you can find as much God as Pat Robertson has.

Pat Robertson worked out at the gym on an incline leg press machine with weights up to 570 pounds. Working with his physician, who was an amazing strength trainer, he worked up to 800 pounds, then 1,000 pounds. Then one day he was able to leg press 1,500 pounds one time. Then over the succeeding months, he trained with multiple reps of 1,200 pounds, 1,300 pounds, and 1,400 pounds.

One Saturday morning, his physician said, “I’ll get you bragging rights. Let’s go to 2,000 pounds.” Then he worked up multiple reps of 1,400 pounds, 1,500 pounds, 1,600 pounds, 1,700, pounds, 1,800 pounds and 1,900 pounds. When 2,000 pounds was put on the machine two men got on either side and helped push the load up, and then let it down on Mr. Robertson, who pushed it up one rep and let it go back down again.

Mr. Robertson warms up now at 500 pounds, and was shown on television with Kristi Watts doing 1000 pounds.
His doctor, by the way, has leg pressed 2,700 pounds. It is not nearly as hard as the authors of these reports make it out to be. We have multiple witnesses to the 2,000 pound leg press, plus video of the 10 reps of 1,000 pounds.

Pat Robertson’s doctors can leg press 2,700 pounds? I’m entering this worm-hole here. It’s a little like hearing the scientific explanations for the 6,000 year old Earth, replete with the Canopy Theory. Maybe the measuring machines are just adjusted somehow, with the effect that if a bunch of empty air-filled stylofoam are marked “500 lbs”?

There is no way on earth Robertson leg presses 2,000 pounds. That would mean a 76-year-old man broke the all-time Florida State University leg press record by 665 pounds over Dan Kendra. 665 pounds. Further, when he set the record, they had to modify the leg press machine to fit 1,335 pounds of weight. Plus, Kendra’s capillaries in his eyes burst. Burst. Where in the world did Robertson even find a machine that could hold 2,000 pounds at one time? And how does he still have vision?

In the first Superman issues, Superman was able to “leap tall buildings in a single bound” — he did not fly properly. The scientific explanation for Superman’s abilities was to compare the difference of Earth’s and Superman’s home planet’s gravitational pulls with the super-abilities of ants to the small scale that they inhabit in bulk strength, and the jumping ability of grass-hoppers. Where the flight and the heat vision came into the picture, I do not know. I guess God tossed Superman those abilities later on.

Pat Robertson has a number of abilities. He can leg-press beyond any previous human ability, while keeping his body (a bit flabby, mind you) straightened and unstrained. He can predict world events — there’s a tsunami that is going to hit this here Cascadia any day now, apparently. And he has the King-making ability to elect Presidents, to the point where John McCain and even goddamned Howard freaking Dean* must bow down before him.

Now we just need to find out what his Kryptonite is, so that we can decrease these super-human abilities to the point where he will no longer ramble on and annoy us like this, and the human race will be done with him.

* No, seriously. There is no reason that any member of the Democratic Party should go on before Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell. Maybe you can make some allowances for Ben Nelson of reddest Nebraska, but beyond that this is just absurd. Even if you decide that the lesson of 2004 had something to do with the “Values Voter”, which follows through with the Virginia Governorship election of Kaine, the version of “values”, Christian or otherwise, that you’re promulgating is never ever going to mesh with Pat Robertson’s or Jerry Falwell’s.

John Gibson and the pc of anti-pc

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

One of the odd things I’m considering with John Gibson’s “We need more babies” take on the immigration issue, which correlates to “We need more white babies”, which connects to “Start breeding, White People”, (found here) is where Gibson’s head was at when he said all of this.

I believe John Gibson set out to be politically incorrect. He had a “I’m going to say something outrageous and radical” mindset, and when he was wracking his head for some opinions to offer to the American public, this is what he came up with.

The give-away here is the tone of giddiness and giddy-up in his voice when he says “To put it bluntly — we need more babies!” This is a sort of “A novel concept, ain’t it? Think about it for a second but don’t be too pointy-headed intellectual about it” thought-process.

The one thing worse than the stifling restraints of Political Correctness is a sort of slap-knee political incorrectness created for the sake of — not so much contrarianism, but a supposed cleverness of a forceful thrust forward of the primitive part of the brain.


Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

From the stats page:

bush cia fbi nsa kennedy lennon hoover lbj nixon

Hm. Yes. All of them. They all killed each other after greasing one another’s rise. They worked together on the project, before splitting apart over petty differences and reacting in violent furies.

conspiracy theory – maron

Either you mean “mason”, or you actually do mean Maron.

legislation was actually proposed to provide every newborn infant in the states of georgia and tennessee with a classical music cd

‘Twas Zell Miller’s project, actually.

fuck the horse that glen beck rode into town on

I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. Except, it would seem, in Washington State. (Famous Enumclaw case.) Maybe it is legal where you are, I don’t know. The one warning I have for you, though, is that it is Glen Beck’s property.

no evidence whatsoever that jack kennedy ever knew lloyd bentsen

If you say so.

joe scarborough slams prussian blue

Not a difficult thing to do, seeing as how Prussian Blue are a White Supremicist blond-teenybopper duo.

doc hastings skull and bones

Don’t make me laugh.

abercombie and fitch models

I note that the downtown store has set up some weird box with their models, who here are at least wearing jeans that one may presumably be able to buy and wear there.

ray nagin skull and bones

I don’t know. Seems like a WASPy organization to me.

on the death of Paul deParrie

Tuesday, May 23rd, 2006

From the laws of the Fanatic:

`Your worst enemy is not he who differs the most (for that one is merely ignorant of the truth and may be enlightened); but rather he who differs the least (for that one knows the truth and actively perverts it)’

Sound about right?

Sounds about right to me. But— According to his expressed view, on the first day of Creation, when the very first breath of life entered the very first creature God created, in that very instant all the events in all the days of his life and unto the instant of his death were foretold and entered into the Great Book of Life along with all commentary and activity pertaining to his life; whether for good or ill, if it had anything to do with his life, it was all there; fixed, immutable, and unchangable by any but God. In other words, this event in life that we call death was meant to be; the events ordained for him by God to occur in exactly this manner, with no deviation whatsoever.

Of course, I could have got it wrong. I will admit I do have a logic problem when it comes to anyone’s definition of pre-destination.


I followed the supposed “Nuremberg Files” court case in the late 1990s, which has — I believe — petered out to its conclusion. deParrie was party to the case, loosely affiliated with “Army of God” as it may be. There was this list of Abortion Providers. If they die, their name was crossed out. Someone was wounded, their name was marked somehow or other — italicized? Red font?

I put something up on my website, which I took down within an hour upon consideration. It went like this:

Abraham Lincoln
James Garfield
William McKinney
Theodore Roosevelt
John Kennedy
Ronald Reagan
William Clinton

Was it possible that the Secret Service could end up with a not-seen geocities site? I don’t know.

At any rate, deParrie once posted something to the effect of “I like Howie. He has a quirky sense of humor.” Well, fine then:

Paul deParrie

Leave it at that.

What’s interesting is that the photo he’s used, and which appeared in yesterday’s Oregonian, looks as though he is either conciously or subconciously harking to Che Guevara.

Yeah, I remember that list now and his defense of it, and denials that it would “stimulate” any violent types, that it was just expressing opinions, etc.

The sad thing is when good people can’t seem to expand their personal convictions to global positions which take into account all the nuances of the human condition.

The worst thing I think porq ever did on this board was read a heart-rending story from a first-person source about having a serious pregnancy issue (foetus about to die inside her as I recall) and following the doctor’s advice to abort it to save her own health….and porq (who thought “there are never any problems with pregnancies” to keep his issue oversimplified and just because his own wife never had any) actually wished her not to get pregnant again unless she “repented.” All that to a girl who desperately wanted a baby, and could have been given courage to try again vs. any more heaping on injury. Of course she stood up to him because he knew nothing of the experience or its details, but a fragile person could have taken that as a kind of curse.

Comment moved upward

Tuesday, May 23rd, 2006

Maybe “cutoffdickcheney” will enjoy the fact of another LaRouche entry?


As for the LaRouchites being “surprisingly tuneful”, they are. And, they do practice their singing at LaRouche Camp, aka Cadre Schools… When I attended one of these cult like weekend getaways, I saw them practice endlessly. That’s pretty much all they did the one day I stayed. They where practicing from like 8 in the morning to 12, then there was this “representative” who would give a class on Schiller or Plato (one of those) for 7 (SEVEN!) hours, then they where singing again… All they sing is opera and Negro Spirituals for some fucking reason. And don’t even think about talking rock and roll music in front of them, to them, or in “The House of LaRouche”, you may as well fart in their faces cause they find it highly offensive. And I am not kidding that when they sang the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” they changed the lyric of “my eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord” to “my eyes have seen the glory of the coming of LaRouche”! That was so creepy! For a moment I thought ‘o Lord, they’re gonna feed us apple sauce or Kool-aid laced with arsenic once they’ve brainwashed us all’…

Last comment, I promise… Did you know LaRouche lives on a million dollar farm property in Virgina? My long lost friend who “found” Larouche and disappeared, was once bragging about how when he went to a so-called National Conference (LaRouche) he and a bunch of other wide-eyed new coming youngsters where invited to his property for his birthday party. Anyway, he told me it was nice but that on their way there, they where BLINDFOLDED so they could not see the exact location of Larouche’s property! How paranoid can you get? This man thinks “They” are out to get him. Folks, I cannot stress enough how much time and sanity you’ll save by not even bothering to argue with them…. Just overturn their literature table like the students so often do at the local college!

I should give this a title

Monday, May 22nd, 2006

You know that fat guy, dressed in black, who goes to Pioneer Square, wears this beret, has a sandwich board on him telling you that everyone in a wide variety of categories is going to go Hell, waves a poster of a giant bloodied fetus? Or maybe you saw him marching at the front of a Gay Pride Parade, or — probably his main location for such things, as per numerous law suits — in front of an Abortion Clinic, where he has been known to take photographs of women exiting or entering for the purpose of posting on the Internet.

Paul deParrie has passed away.

I flick around the Internet, and go his message board, and see that someone has already written this:

Paul’s dead and Jesus spits upon his grave. Good riddance to another foul stench terrorist.

I do not know if he is, um, technically a terrorist or not. He is, as I’ve noted before, a source that the news media will go to if they need a quote condoing violence against Abortion providers, after a quip fromthe mainline anti-abortion (pro-life if you must) organizations who will as quickly as possible condemn it all.

But others, like Paul deParrie editor in chief of Life Advocate Magazine in Portland, Oregon, said: “I think it is wonderful any time an aboriton clinic is closed for whatever reason. If the toilet backs up and closes the place, that is great. I think it is great when babies’ lives are saved through whatever means. I am not going to try to condemn somebody that God won’t condemn.” The bombing was perhaps the most violent act — at least in its potential for destruction since four killings at abortion clinics in 1994.

That’s the New York Times, circa January 1997, and is par for the course for deParrie’s contribution to the national dialouge.

I have gotten to know the man a bit, and have some sort of bizarre relationship with him. deParrie once posted, quite correctly, that I was avoiding him… something I’ve done regularly and did just a couple weeks ago, actually. He called me a snob. This was from a protest he and his friends held on September 11, 2002, across from Pioneer Square with a year-old memorial to 9/11. For that, I shrugged, allowed myself to have a couple conversations with him, and generally avoided him nonetheless. There was this time where they shouted out toward me, with a large group heckling them. I was obliged to yell something back at them, and thus went “Just remember — THERE IS NO GOD!!”, which for whatever reason the crowd found “ballsy”.

Or I could go with, “Obey the Buddha!”, which I did once when his son-in-law, a less frightening sort who seems to share a similar sense of humour as I, pulled the same stunt with me. But he I once had regular weekly conversations with.

Never mind. Paul deParrie is dead. His niece, who has for the past decade vowed to counter-act her uncle’s work by working with Planned Parenthood and assorted pro-choice work, can either keep going by way of eulogizing what he stood for, or do whatever.

That damned Asterisk!!

Monday, May 22nd, 2006

Tyler Snyder caught Barry Bonds’ 714th homer on the fly Saturday, snagging it cleanly with his glove. The people around the 19-year-old Athletics fan cheered wildly, with nobody assaulting or gouging him.

“I hate that guy,” Snyder told reporters before he was whisked away.

When told Snyder is an A’s fan, Bonds quipped: “I, um, forgive you. If he doesn’t like me, give me the ball.” […]

Snyder does plan to sell the ball, too, and maintained there is no way he would give it to Bonds.

“Hell no, I hate that guy,” said Snyder, who left the ballpark shortly after catching the ball.

Asked if he would not at least like to meet Bonds at some point to showhim the ball, Snyder reiterated, “Maybe. But I don’t really care for the guy.”

It is at times like this that it’s fun to tune into Sports Radio and ESPN television to guage Fan reaction. The nicety is being pushed around that the act of the Oakland As fans to give a standing ovation to Barry Bonds upon hitting the tie with Babe-Ruth for second all time in home run hits home run was (#1) a class act, what with the frequent booing the man has been receiving, and (#2) an ovation for Baseball.

Sure. Sure. We’ve been through this before. Ha ha charade you are!

So the Baseball Season of 1998 is winding down. The home run derby between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa is a sort of back-topic in my “Contemporary World Problems” class in high school. The day after McGwire either ties or sets the single season home run record, the question is asked on the daily news quiz, who hit the record home run.

I put down the answer, “Steroid-infused freak Mark McGwire”. I occassionally included such editorial filler in my news quiz answers. The teacher frowned on it, but didn’t do anything about such.

This was the home run derby that was being said to be “Saving Baseball” from the doldrums it faced from its strike, (probably the third such hyped “saving baseball” occurence), and all the while I’m pondering what it means that Steroids are what is saving Baseball. Meanwhile, the commentary on the reason for the tremendous rush of homeruns is said to be a by-product of such a thing as “Diluted Pitching”. Everyone is looking the other way. Baseball is being saved, you see. Just as Babe Ruth saved baseball after the Chicago White Sox threw the World Series in 1919. Congratulations to the World Champion Cincinnatti Reds, by the way — you constantly hear in sports commentary the phrase “Opportunistic” for a team that takes advantage of the other team’s mistakes and errors — generally it looks like a back-handed compliment, but hey! The Reds won that Championship, and have to be the most underappreciated champions in all of professional sports history.

At the start of the Seattle Mariners’s Great season of 2001, 116 wins was it?, I learned that the Mariners had picked up a fine middle of the road player by the name of Brett Boone. Plug in a hole here, and do well in the middle of the line-up, it would seem. But wait! The man has “Bulked Up!” during the off-season. And so started his career year, or career couple of years, and a mighty jump in power and athletic prowess. During this magical 2001 season, articles were written in the sports section of the local and regional papers placing Bret Boone’s season alongside other “Fluke seasons”. I watched, or had in the background, and generally followed the Seattle Mariners at the time. Whenever Brett Boone came to the plate, I meditated on a simple question, “Should I care that he’s infused himself with Steroids?” The answer is a bit surprising, “He’s probably just the most obvious.”

Bulked up, particularly when nettled next to the words “during the off-season”, is more or less simply a euphemism for “jacked himself full of steroids”.

Barry Bonds, it is said, was jealous of the star treatment accorded to Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, so went on a Full Steroid Regiment to gain that Star Attraction. Sure enough, it was 2001 when he broke Mark McGwire’s home-run record. I remember the owner of Mark McGwire’s balls, Todd MacFarlane — who used to create bad comic books until he realized that the money was in kitschy Action Figure toy collectibles for nostalgiac overgrown adolescents — said he was okay with the sudden worthlessness of Mark McGwire’s balls because of 9/11, and the need of the nation for some pleasantry. Which was the absurd thing said about Michael Jordan’s ill-advised return to the NBA. That “we need this”, if true — which I do not believe to be the case, would speak ill of America. But assuming it to be true, I follow through with the line and I think “What’s going to save America is a Steroid-infused baseball player breaking the 3 year old record of another steroid infused baseball player?” What a strange and dark metaphor for America.

I am searching in vein through the Sports Illustrated cover gallery for a cover with a giant astericks, and the simple question “Is this the Asterisk Era of Major League Baseball?” To even ask the question is to answer the question. It doesn’t have to be, in a purely technical sense. Nobody is going to be in the Baseball Hall of Fame with a strict sterisk next to their entry. You take it for what it means. It’s kind of unfortunate. A couple of years ago I was looking foward to the 100-home run hit slugger. That’s not going to materialize since Major League Baseball has clamped down on Steroids, on the behest of Senator John McCain. The pitching is no longer diluted, and there are fewer players who have “bulked up during the off-season.” In fact, a lot of players have “slimmed down” during the off-season!

Somebody needs a spell checker

Sunday, May 21st, 2006

I saw this posted on either a tree or a telephone pole. Ordinarily I might take it down and muse over it, keeping it until I throw it away, as I do with what I call the “Schizo Times” (urgent paper tucked to the inside of freebie newspaper stands downtown, seemingly put there by a troubled person off his/her meds — the latest edition I’ve neglected to post here as I have previous editions.), but this one… this seemed to deserve to remain there, until the… um… THE MAN sees fit to take it down.

I object not to the message, which is clearly a bit insane and the racial dimensions are jarring, but to the lack of human spell checking. It clearly went through a computer spell check, as evidenced by its frequent homonym transfers, but stopped at that. Unless I’m mistaken and this is “Ghetto Slang” that my White Ass is not privy to.

Dirty Cops and fed funded drug dealing snitch’s this past winter one of there snitch’s was murdered. They would like to pin it on Mob Criminals witch is a local rap group that they would to shut up. They have gone as far as to put a few of there rat’s a long side of the Mob in the local paper. These rat’s are (blacked out), (blacked out), (blacked out), a.k.a. black, Tyler, Will. Inside info has said the police will have a few murders take place to try to pin it on the Mob. White devils at it again. Stop black on black crime. There really loving it.

Meditate on it, and figure out where you stand. Young man, the powers in your hand, put your fist on the table and make your demands.