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Pierce Winslow

Pierce Winslow is the Discord's Brain, Chief Engineer and C.E.O. He co-founded the Discord along with Mick Zano in 2008 and they have both been sorry ever since.

Discord Apology Episode II: Attack of the Groans

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Pierce Winslow

Philadephia, PA—It’s that time of the news cycle again.  We have limited our retractions this time to those episodes causing great personal damage or loss of life (otherwise we could be here all day).

Our journal submission Study Finds Sending Water to Flood Victims Ironic did not stay afloat under the peer review process.  Besides, there’s nothing funny about dysentery or cholera—even when worked effectively into a pun.

In our feature, Top 10 Reasons You Should Never Pull the Last Airbender’s Finger, three of the reasons were deemed “a bit of a stretch.”   But, we do stand by our original premise that it is still not advisable.

At the end of the day, The Discord staff admits our feature Global Drought May Spread does not represent journalism at its finest.

Finally, we would also like to apologize to the U.S. Army for endangering our troops in the field during our ill-fated Egg a Radical Muslim Cleric Day.  We are willing to stand by our offer to pay for all of the dry cleaning bills (for any legitimate claim), provided the Imams in question stop calling for our beheading.
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The Terrorists Win the War on Terror: Film at 11

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The Terrorists Win: Film at 11
Pierce Winslow

Reflecting on 9/11, nine years, later was damn depressing—almost as bad as reading our submissions this week.  Did you really think a bunch of radical yahoos could defeat America (and I don’t mean the Discord staff)?  Of course not, they were betting on our own stupidity, and that bet paid off far beyond their wildest expectations.

Al Qaeda can officially declare victory in the War on Terror.  In a six to five ruling last week, the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals sealed our fate.  This ruling will forever protect George Bush, or any future president for that matter, from even being subject to a judicial review.  Another Watergate may never happen, well, the president is less likely to be brought to justice at any rate.  The ruling said that claims of torture will not even be investigated, as they are deemed “state secrets” not subject to court room adjudication.

George Bush's all seeing eye

Since 9/11, Americans have systematically dismantled their own freedom by granting unprecedented powers to the executive branch, the FBI, and the CIA, powers that have been used to surveil the citizenry without probable cause or due process, torture prisoners in illegally run overseas secret prisons, and also to wage unfettered, unjustified war on a global scale.  Cheney said that Obama would one day thank him for the expansion of power.   As a citizen of our once great nation, I would like to take the time to say, “Fuck you, Mr. Cheney.”

Freedom of religion and equal treatment under law have been revoked, as Americans are too scared to allow the construction of a mosque in lower Manhattan, and have declared the Muslim religion evil due to the actions of a radical minority who hate us for political reasons, not religious ones. I mean really, as if Al Quaeda would be stupid enough to put their terrorist headquarters in downtown Manhattan. Um, Hello? They operate out of Pakistan (assuming Osama hasn’t moved on). You remember? Our ally in the war on terror? The ones sucking down billions in aid which is being funneled into the Afghani insurgency? But I digress…

The mainstream media, well, OK, Fox News is very successfully fostering hatred, prejudice and fear, and building Nazi-esque nationalism by, ironically, repeatedly comparing our democratically elected government to Nazi Germany.  Joseph Goebbels would be proud. Meanwhile, the Koch brothers, Texas gazillionaires, are secretly funding the Tea Party, because they’re such big Glenn beck fans.  (Hah!  Fools.) How ironic that the second largest stockholder in Fox News’ parent company, Saudi Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal, has pumped hundreds of thousands of dollars into the very Manhattan mosque project they so fear. Am I the only one that sees the hypocrisy here? This guy is providing both the fire and the gasoline (literally) causing us to fear them and them to hate us. Why don’t we solve the whole problem by rounding up all of the Muslims and putting them into concentration camps, um, I mean resort colonies; a “final solution” if you will. Where have you heard that before?

The American economy is flying apart. Joblessness is near an 80 year high, and bankruptcies, crime rates and homelessness are following suit.  For a more hard hitting example, I am about to lay off Zano for a third time.  He is single handedly increasing both our unemployment numbers as well our nation’s under employment numbers.

Americans no longer travel because they are too scared, too poor, or do not want to deal with the hassles of air travel security restrictions or exploding underpants.

Osama bin Laden is still on the loose, somewhere (Pakistan?!?!?), orchestrating terrorist activity all over the world. He moves around, at will, sowing the seeds of anti-American sentiment, and we are watering those seeds by protesting at Mosques, burning copies of the Koran, and garroting cab drivers.

The other day, Andrew Sullivan was actually channeling Zano, instead of the other way around:

There are legitimate trade-offs between national security and liberty. But the protection of war criminals where no secrets are at stake except the scandal of torture itself is not one of them. Alas, there are few such citizens around. And, most tragic of all, those who say they care about liberty above all – the tea-partiers who invoke the founders – seem only too willing to surrender every liberty for the prize of a security against a threat we cannot even measure, and to bow down before a new king (and probably warrior-queen) rather than elect a new president.

—Andrew Sullivan, The Daily Dish, September 9, 2010

We need to change Know Hope to No Hope, but not for the reasons the wing nuts out there think. I would like to end this post on a high note…this is all going to end December 21, 2012, and I will be laying off Zano again this week.
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The Event Verizon: How the Military Industrial Complex Tried to Kill The Daily Discord

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The Verizon Event: How the Military Industrial Complex Tried to Kill The Daily Discord
Pierce Winslow

I awoke earlier than any human should, scraped my scurvy ass out of bed, cleaned the pool, showered, and bulldozed through 45 minutes of Philly’s best combat traffic (in my universe Route 476+276+202=666). Then, right after resituating myself in my vexatious chair, my personal annoyance device (PAD) vibrates right next to my nads at 7:30 AM.

It’s probably the Ghetto Shaman trying to make bail again. I answer the call. Mrs. Winslow informs me that Verizon has just shut down our internet connection with a Martin Lutheresque bitch-note posted where my home page would normally appear. The account is suspended. Now there are only links provided where you can go to rectify this situation. Several links later, they all say I have to call and speak with someone (foreshadowing?).

Set the Way Back machine to about two-years ago. When I signed up, the agreement required that I enroll in automatic payment. Some time later I tried to have them switch to conventional billing—you know, where you actually get a bill instead of the leaches attaching themselves directly to your bank account like a lamprey, but they would not have it. Who could blame them? Anyway, the leach-attached account has plenty of cash. There are no new cards, or expirations, or other such obstructions. What the fuck could go wrong?

So I get on the bank’s web site: Verizon hasn’t hit the account in about three months. OK, so I’m behind, way behind. One would wonder why I never got an email, or a phone call (they are a phone company, right?), or a snail mail bitch-note, or maybe one of those Martin Lutheresque notes threatening my life from my web browser.

Verizon Beautiful People

Time to call Verizon…

Take 1:

I call the FIOS Internet service number, as listed on that Lutheresque bitch-note. I’m greeted by a friendly, sexy sounding computer who assures me that she can help with my account, but she needs the phone number about which I am calling. Uh, this is the internet service number, right? So I hit #2. Then she wants my account #. Being at work, I don’t have it. Not that I would have had it at home either, because they have never sent me a bill, so I punch #2 again. OK, now she’ll accept my phone # as verification (even though it’s not through Verizon). I am transferred to Billing…

A real human being picks up the line. She speaks English! The agent cannot tell me why they stopped billing me. In fact, she says that I have never been on automatic billing, but if I want to sign up for their oh-so-effective automatic billing I can do so once this is all resolved. I wanted to debate the overall effectiveness of said automatic payment, but in a very effective, deflective manner, she got me off of their fuckup and onto how I can pony up three dollars on top of the amount due to use their over-the-phone payment thingie to get this problem resolved. She gives me the 14-fucking-digit account number and transfers me off to some third-party, not so sexy, phone, computer, payment thing (after giving me the “correct” FIOS Internet service number in case I need to call again (more foreshadowing?). I enter the 14-fucking-digit account number. The not so sexy system reads back the 14-fucking-digit account number. It’s correct, so I hit #1. The bitch tells me that she has no idea who I am and to go away. Lovely.

Call Verizon, Take 2:

I call the new and improved FIOS Internet service number. The same sexy computer, ironically, tells me once again, how she can help me with my account. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice…uh, we won’t get fooled again!

Hitting the same magic numbers at the same prompts, I get to another human being who, after my recanting the whole tale, judgmentally tells me that she will conference me into the not so sexy, phone, computer, payment thingie, and she will enter the information on my behalf (because a 42-year-old, 164 IQ software engineer making about four times what she does can’t handle that). A few glip, schschsch, beep, beep, beeps later, the service agent says I’m in and I’m on my own and gets off the line. Did I mention that she gave me yet another “correct” number for FIOS Internet support?

Anyway, what’s the first question the not so sexy system asks me? “How much do you want to pay?”

After all of the hoopla, I don’t know.

I am really good with numbers. I can memorize someone’s credit card number in about 30 seconds to a minute (awesome bar trick, especially when it’s time to settle up). I also have 623 flying monkeys that I am preparing to unleash on Verizon headquarters, as we speak. Anyway, I believe that human being #1 had said that the overdue amount is ~$119, so I enter $125. The system says everything is OK so I get on with my work day. After that stress, I bulldoze back home through 45 minutes of Philly’s best combat traffic to the comfort of home.

While on the line with them, both the first and second human beings promised me that four hours after the payment went through (11:30, yeah it took that long), the service would automatically be restored. I expected that the service would be restored by the time I got back home, six hours later (fool!).

Verizon Beautiful People

My oldest daughter greets me with a hug and a kiss, and proceeds to complain to me about the mean woman on the computer who won’t let her play any Wubzy games. The woman in question is an image, on that Lutheresque bitch note, of some anorexic blonde, standing, working on a laptop with one hand while holding it in the other (like that’s realistic).

Lovely, Verizon’s fuckup is costing my Baby Face quality Wubzy time. I release the flying monkeys…

Call Verizon, Take 3:

I call the new, new and improved FIOS Internet Service Number. The same sexy computer greets me, telling me how she can help with my account, and asks me for the phone number I’m calling about (this is the internet service number, right?). I did the keypad hokey-pokey (not the McDooris variety), and got back to billing where I proceeded to tell Winston the story of Alice’s Restaurant Massacree, in four part harmony, with full orchestration…anyway, so he gives me yet another correct FIOS support number, and I’m being transferred to…wait, I’ve been disconnected.

Verizon Beautiful People

Call Verizon, Take 4: (they must really value my call, because they keep me calling back)…

After all of the same bullshit, again, I find out this is no longer a billing issue since the payment went through, and it is now a support issue. She’ll transfer me.

At this point I had switched to my cell phone (AT&T thank you very much). It’s much more mobile while doing dinner, bath, pre-bed, posting bail for the Ghetto Shaman, etc. I’m hearing static on the line. I don’t get static on my cell phone at home. There is a cell tower about 200 yards away. I could throw my phone at it and hit the damn thing, which I was about to do. The tower is cleverly disguised as a tree, by the way. Granted, I have never seen a Douglas Fir with branches only at the top and pumping out 80,000 μW/cm2 of RF Radiation. I’m waiting for my neighbor, Cleetus, to try cutting it down for Christmas. Anyway, I’m being transferred overseas (the Kobyashi Maru has set sail for the promised land)…

Verizon Beautiful People

I end up talking to Dipti (yeah, US-based support has shut down for the day). He asks me for the phone number…GOD, um VISHNU DAMMIT! I go through the whole thing again and the phone gets silent….for a minute or two (no exaggeration)…he asks me again about the phone number… *sigh*… He can see my account, but he can’t do anything about it (another fine product). He’s going to transfer me to FIOS Internet support (isn’t this the “correct” number?).

After being on hold for, I don’t know, forever and a week, I was greeted by the friendly, sexy sounding computer, who assures me she can help with my account. I ‘bout threw my phone through the window.

Verizon Call, Take Xanax…er, I mean 5:

Yet another new and improved support number. This time it is one intended for Verizon engineers. There is no voice or anything available here, except who I should call when I cut into a customer’s electric service (mental note…).

Verizon Call, Take 6:

Some guy asks me what state I live in.

Take 7:

Take 8:

Take 9:

TAKE FUCKING 10…

Come on, Cleetus. Grab an axe! Christmas is coming early this year…

I bailed. I had a beer, a shot, played a certain relevant George Thorogood song and got the kids bathed and to bed.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than any human should. I scraped my scurvy ass out of bed and checked the laptop. There was a DNS error: that’s actually a good sign. I bring down the entire network, bring it back up, and I’m greeted with The Daily Discord when I open the browser. Reading it made me want to go back to bed. Have you actually read some of that shit? *shudder*

Verizon Beautiful People

So what is the lesson here? The best I can come up with is the Military Industrial Complex is trying to shut down the Daily Discord, or maybe Wubzy. I’m sure it’s one of the two. I mean, really. How stupid can these people be? They built the largest fiber-optic network on the planet as well as one of the largest wireless networks—not to mention they have one of the largest bank balances on the planet. They have more cash and power than God, Allah, Buddha, Vishnu, and the Ghetto Shaman combined. I spoke with people named Marianne, Dipti, Winston (who the hell has a name like Winston?!?!?), Caneeshwa (I’m sure I spelled that wrong), and Ming Lu (wasn’t that a dynasty?).

It’s a world-wide conspiracy! But that 15 megabit fiber is soooooo sweet. Now that it’s working, I’m almost sorry I encouraged Cleetus to try chaining that fake Douglas Fir to his pick-up truck tonight.

I think they’re fucking with my post right now. We don’t have people this beautiful.
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Wanted: The Daily Discord Administrator Who Posted the Following Plug on Facebook

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Pierce Winslow

The Daily Discord admitts to its wrogdoings, Obama controls Hookers?, The Bone shouts out, and petruding pectorals now on the Daily Discord. Suggest us to your friends we promise they wont hate you for it. But then again we do spoof and satire so take that for what it is.

Really? This is the actual plug as it appeared on Facebook on June 17th. For a little background to our sordid tale, I went on vacation last week. Normally, I post the little Facebook plugs on our main page for the enjoyment of our six followers. I even play with my twitter now and again, but I don’t like to talk about it. I came home from my cruise to Nebraska, I put my suitcase back in the garage, the body into the wood chipper, and then I checked my email. My responses varied from “Fuck you, Zano” to “Fuck you, Shaman.” You know, the usual. And then something nagged me to check the Discord Facebook page.

The next few minutes are a blur that ultimately ended up with my children calling Child Protective Services, my wife calling Adult Protective Services, and my neighbors applying for renter’s insurance.

I also believe Ned Flanders actually said, “That’s the loudest profanity I ever heard.”

You see, when I’m very angry, I blackout. Whenever I’m at the police station and they ask that question, Do you ever blackout?, I always say, “I don’t recall.” This is not a joke, it’s a serious medical condition-a medical condition exacerbated by most of my Discord contributors combined with copious amounts of a certain German schnapps.

Only four administrators have access to this Facebook posting thingie: 1.) yours truly (Pierce Xavier Winslow), 2.) Mick (always number two in my book) Zano, 3.) Dave (my money’s on him) Atsals, and 4.) a man known only as Wog.

None of us have met Wog-well, Zano did once, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. Now, as the CEO of the Daily Discord, I’m not about verbal or written warnings-never have been. I’m about kicking ass. And not in the Obama to BP “stop or I’ll say stop again” kind of kicking ass; I’m talking about inserting footwear so far into journalistic glutes that I need to go back to Payless. I hate buying shoes. Especially, when I only need one. These days I usually only buy brown shoes, which helps to some extent.

I guess, in retrospect, what is most disappointing to me (and working with this bunch, that is quite a statement) is this: no one thought to hit the remove button. There is a remove button for the purposes of removing something sloppy, or highly offensive on Facebook. If our readers had access to such a button we’d, of course, have one skimpy website and no need for the current team of lawyers defending our fortunes, as well as our first amendment rights.

I have asked each contributor what the hell happened. Here is how each conversation went down:

(The Zano interview)

Winslow: Mick, I asked someone to plug the discord on Facebook in my absence. Just out of curiosity, did you happen to post the Facebook plug last week? Just asking, buddy, old pal, old chum.

Zano: I told you I hate Facebook. I wrote an entire feature on how much I hate Facebook. In fact, until this very conversation, I had no idea I was even an administrator on this mysterious Book of Faces and, now that I know, I wish to formally be removed from this illustrious virtual clique.

P.S. Stop pushing me, prick!

(The Atsals interview)

Winslow: Dave, I specifically asked you, personally, to plug the discord on Facebook in my absence. Just out of curiosity, did you happen to post the Facebook plug last week?

Atsals: Naaah, I told Wog to do it. It’s something called d-e-le-g-a-t-i-n-g. AKA, that team of people you employ to wipe yer arse in the little CEO’s room. Besides, I was drunk during most of your absence, but only because, deep down, I really despise myself and need professional help.

P.S. See Zano’s post script and add an exclamation point.

(The Wog interview)

Winslow: Wog, I’m not entirely sure how you became an administrator here at the Discord, or even who you are, exactly. I don’t even know if Wog is your real name, but did you happen to post something to Facebook last week? Just asking.

Yours humbly,

Pierce Winslow

Wog: I refuse to admitts to any Wogdoings, I won’t put up wit yer slander! Ya Fop!

Wog is no longer a Facebook administrator and, since Dave Atsals showed an extreme lack of judgment in letting him post, he is no longer an administrator. And, since the only constant in the universe is that Zano shows an extreme lack of judgment, well, here are my conclusions:

  1. I, Peirce Xavier Winslow, am the last of the Facebookian Administrator for the Daily Discord.
  2. A wood chipper does not dispose of all DNA evidence, construction-grade or no.
  3. I’m going to find and consume copious amounts of a certain German schnapps.
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