Camden, NJ. Summer 2010

Hello everyone! Who’s ready for some safe, spottily-updated fun? I know I am. I become increasingly convinced in the weeks writing these posts that Judgment Day is imminent. Judgment Day will be interesting, at least for me, because I have no reason to believe I’m going to be saved. Instead, I feel like I’m just going to become a roast suckling pig in Hell as some sort of ironic punishment for my gluttony. Anyway, the news:

I really wanted to talk about this Gaza thing but I’m not sure I can. You see, the mere act of picturing both sides of the story in the Israel-Palestine debate is something that I’ve realized takes Herculean mental exertion. In fact, as soon as I read about the flotilla attack, several blood vessels burst in my brain and blood started shooting out of my left eye socket. Much like New Jersey, Gaza is a small strip of land in which life is nasty, brutal, short and warlike. Leaders are corrupt and the land is a barren, Road Warrior-esque hellscape. But unlike in New Jersey, aid workers do not get shot at when trying to bring vital supplies in. Judging by an experience I had several months ago, in New Jersey you get shot by workers with AIDS while trying to buy “vital supplies.” But the differences, nonetheless, are only skin-deep.

FRIENDSHIP

The Iranian opposition is being warned against protesting the one year anniversary of President Trollface McBeadyEyes winning the election. As an Iranian dissident, I’m a bit scared. I’ve had people I don’t know from Iran try to friend me on Facebook. I’m afraid that I’ll get arrested while trying to buy hummus in the supermarket and shipped off to Iran. Without access to my therapist and wine, depression will overtake me and I will start being used a public stress reliever in Evin Prison. My spongy physical frame and unwillingness to resist will make me a commodity amongst sexually-frustrated Basij officers. I’m not saying this will be the definite outcome, but it is certainly likely to happen.

The Shit Shoot Contingent

It seems that some progress is finally being made on taking care of the oil spill. The plans these engineers have employed for fixing this oil spill remind me of a bad Mexican restaurant’s menu- various permutations of the same three basic components:

“I think we should cut it first and then fire some shit at it to plug it up”

“That seems like it would work”

(several weeks later)

“That shit didn’t work.”

“What if we tried firing some shit at it, then cutting it and covering it with mud?”

“That’s thinking outside the box! That’ll definitely work!”

(several weeks later)

“That shit didn’t work either. Uhh, what if we fire mud at it with some sort of crude underwater catapult, then cut it with a diamond, then slaughter 100 seagulls to appease Neptune?”

“Why the fuck not?”

I’m proposing a radically different and new solution to this oil spill issue. Install some jets underwater that moves the oil slick closer to Mexico. We Americans are such caring people, we’d like to offer some oil- with no strings attached- to our brothers and sisters South of the Border. No need to thank us, Mexico, this one is on us. Or else, we can divert the oil slick to Cuba. Rafts made out of empty soda bottles don’t travel too well in viscous fluids.

That’s it for another issue of the New World Order. Remember kids, everyone you know and love will one day die!

Viewing this outside if Niente Peaches? Have a look here!

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