Monday, December 21, 2009


"Well let's see," says me. "Number ten is... what's number ten..."
"You can't think of anything," says Giblets.
"Sure I can," says me. "I just need a little more time."
"The zeroes were stupid and awful and stupid and bad and you can't think of ten things in them that weren't," says Giblets.
"Number ten is air!" says me. "Everybody likes air. It's fun to breathe!"
"This is getting lame," says Giblets.
"Number nine is... hmmm..." says me.
"Giblets is bored," says Giblets.
"Number nine is the long-eared jerboa," says me, "for its impressively long ears."
"Giblets is going home," says Giblets.
"Number eight," says me. "Nummmmmber eight."

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posted by fafnir at 8:13 PM
Friday, December 4, 2009

There was supposed to be a pie here, a flaky fresh-baked apple pie, but it's not here, and if it's not here then it's gone, and if it's gone then somebody took it, and if somebody took it then it's stolen - stolen by a walrus.

Oh you know all about walruses, all about them and their thieving walrus ways. You bet that walrus is having a grand old time right now with all its walrus buddies - telling its walrus jokes, sipping its walrus brandy, laughing a cruel walrus laugh at your expense. Well you won't let it get away with it. You're gonna get even with that walrus.

Your friends don't really understand all the walrus traps and the walrus bait and the sacrificial offerings to Uotichtlan, ancient Aztec Lord of the Sun-Walrus, but that's just 'cause they never been there, never had their hearts broken by a walrus's lies, never lost the family farm to the walruses down at the bank, never had to leave three good men to die in a war zone 'cause the walruses jumped 'em in the middle of the night. Or maybe they're just in on it. In on it with the walrus.

Now you've got Craig and Mike and Laurel and Turtlefoot Henson all locked up in the back of the bottom of the basement and they're all goin "hey man we don't know what you're talkin about, we don't know any walrus" which is exactly what you'd expect them to say if they were working for the walrus and you know you got em now and you know you got that walrus now and all you got to do now is wait, wait right here by the door with your walrus gun all ready for that walrus to show, and that's when you'll show 'im. That's when you'll show that walrus.


posted by fafnir at 8:53 AM
Wednesday, December 2, 2009

"You think there's life on other planets?" says me.
"Nah, Giblets checked already," says Giblets.
"Are you sure?" says me. "Maybe you missed a spot."
"Sure I'm sure," says Giblets. "Here, lemme show you. Hey! Hey you! You up there! Hey! Hey you! You! Hey! Hey you!"
We wait around a while. "See?" says Giblets. "Nothin."
"Maybe they're just a little shy," says me.
"Nuts to your shy!" says Giblets. "If they were really out there in space with their space-cars and their space-guns and their metal-bikini-wearing space-babes they would totally come over here to show off all their space-stuff and make us feel like losers! That's just science!"
"Well you can't argue with science," says me.
"No you can't," says Giblets.
"Well maybe they dropped by some time when we were out at the store and they rang the doorbell and hung around and were all like 'Oh well let's just leave a crop circle on the doorknob'," says me.
"You talk crazy talk!" says Giblets. "The first thing they'd do is look for the key under the moon and break into the earth and steal all our best oceans and continents!"
"Well maybe they didn't want our stuff," says me. "Maybe they already have a Greenland, or maybe the Pacific was the wrong color."
"Well at the very least they would've eaten us," says Giblets. "Just look at us, all marbled with succulent fat and dripping with tasty earth juices!"
"Maybe they're vegans," says me. "Or maybe we taste all weird an gamey."
"Well what's the point of being bigger than someone else if you're not gonna kill them or take their stuff!" says Giblets.
"Maybe they're not bigger," says me. "Maybe they're just things like birds and bugs and fish and us."
"Well that's just stupid and boring and stupid and lame and Giblets is going home!" says Giblets.
I wait around a while. A little after sunset a big bright saucer lands in the park and a thing comes out.
"Kthp gn unngko?" it says.
"Nah, it's the next one over," says me.
"Klbbyp nom," it says and flies away.
"Stupid birds," says me.


posted by fafnir at 10:26 AM
Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Let us never forget just what's at stake in the war in Afghanistan: nothing less than the success of the war in Afghanistan. This war may be a mistake, a blood-soaked blunder, an unholy charnel house mindlessly consuming the bodies and souls of untold thousands, an open sore on the pockmarked face of history and an abomination before the sight of God and men, but it is first and foremost a war, and wars must be won. If the United States doesn't win this war, then will it not lose it? And if the United States loses this war, then won't the Unites States have lost it? And if the United States has lost this war, will that not then make the United States a kind of thing that loses wars? And then where would we be?

And just as America can't afford to abandon this war, surely it can't afford to abandon the Afghan people, who without the American military would be left to the savage whims of their hated enemy, the Afghan people. Indeed, it remains America's solemn duty as the leader of the free world to bring freedom and security to the Afghan people by hunting down and eliminating the Afghan people. Nor can America forget its own national security, and the dire threat posed by the Afghan people to our war against the Afghan people.

But we must also remember that the Afghans, menaced even though they are by the evil of the Afghans, are not blameless here. Have they sufficiently appreciated our efforts to kill them? No, they have not. Have they effectively and efficiently rebuilt their nation whenever we've had cause to blow it up? No, they have not. Have they become full and effective participants in the ongoing mission to kill them? No, they have not. It is long past time for the people of Afghanistan to step up their efforts to kill themselves, and not merely rely on American generosity to finish the job for them.

And so the President will be sending additional troops to Afghanistan - but a precise number of troops, carefully determined by the nation's top warologists after long months of carpet-bombing villages of laboratory mice - and they will kill Afghans there, but only for a precise period of time, calculated to be the exact interval necessary to protect our freedoms, or restore our security, or for all of us to grow bored and forget.

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