Should We Clone Moderate Republican DNA?

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Mick Zano

We know moderate republicans are all but extinct, but are we ethically compelled to use genetic engineering to bring them back from the abyss? I am denying allegations I stole David Frum’s comb for the purpose of creating an army of thinking republicans. That’s ludacris. Oh, and I did steal his comb, but only because I’m a huge fan.

Notice how the GOP—especially the AM radioers, Foxeteers and Drudgers of the world—don’t ever want to talk about what happened six months ago? Generally, this occurs because facts eventually emerge—facts that prove difficult to incorporate into their false narrative. So for them it’s better to MoveOn.org.

As I’ve mentioned, the GOP side of the media seems almost completely devoid of retractions. This affords them an incredible advantage over the rest of us. Without worrying about the past, they can blow new issues out of proportion or misconstrue other important items. I call this being forever misguided in the moment a Zen wrongness. Meanwhile a joke news bloggerist, such as myself, is still compelled to do retractions. Seems fair…well, in their defense, retractions wouldn’t leave them much time for anything else.

Granted some shit doesn’t go away in six months, speaking of which I should I probably hit that walk-in clinic. The IRS “scandal”, for example, will be around until my next audit, despite the fact it’s been debunked. Last week a Fox headline read: “Did Justice Department Ignore IRS abuses?” To the Foxeteers “debunked” is immediately translated through their coveted bullshitatron as “scandal widens”. How about something more accurate like Bullshit Deepens? Or Probe Widens Because We Haven’t Found Anything Yet, or Wait! There’s Still Someone in Cleveland We Haven’t Questioned About This!

I read this recent Fox coverage of the IRS “scandal”, but I’m not linking back to it. Why bother? Here’s what we know: the IRS is always going to target groups claiming to be non-profit. They have operated like assholes since their inception, but in this case they acted within the law. You want proof? Check out their mission statement:

The IRS:
The IRS: Total assholes since 1862
Total assholes since 1862

And they will continue to be assholes until Governor Rick Perry becomes president. Then, in a rare moment of lucidity, I predict he will remember how the IRS was that third government program he wanted to scrap back in the 2011 Primaries.

Look, no matter how many rocks you overturn, there is no direct or indirect connection to the White House. I actually don’t mind investigations. We should hold every administration accountable. That’s not the problem. If you find something worth telling us, by all means, tell us. But I do take exception to the whole, well, we didn’t find anything so instead of a retraction let’s make more shit up approach.

You can always ask one more question, right? Instead of admitting we jumped the shark let’s run: Did Obama Collude with Elvis to Hide Secret IRS Correspondence in Roswell?

Fabrication Station
Fabrication Station, Dysfunction junction, what’s their function?
Dysfunction junction, what’s their function?

This “keeping scandals on life support” approach all hinges on an ability to keep their base away from actual facts. They’re already angry and misinformed, so it’s actually not that hard of a trick. Pieces of the puzzle that don’t fit into their false narrative simply fall away into something I like to call reality. It’s like a political game of hide and don’t seek, or the TwiRight Zone as I call it. Sure reanimating scandals beyond their shelf life is working on the naïve, but let’s face it republicans have already captured the naïve vote.

This is another testament to the GOP’s unwillingness to pull the F-ing plug on something. They know the attention span of America is such that if we keep this going long enough we won’t have to do a retraction, aka, let’s keep this story going until we hatch bullshit scandal X.

The IRS scandal will never come off their scandal list, because they are collecting them. They want a list to match Bush’s and who cares if they don’t make sense. I wince every time the GOP says “this is far from over.” This translates as:

“We haven’t found anything yet, but that’s not going to discourage us.”

—John Q. Republican

I like and respect Josh Greene and he says the IRS scandal is in the rigor Morris stage, here (sorry, Dick). I like and respect Andrew Sullivan over on The Dish and he agrees this scandal is another Rep herring, here. And since Bob Cesca asserts here how the whole scandal has officially “gone down in flames”, why won’t Fox News stop talking about it?

I believe I’ve already explained that. Aren’t you people paying attention? But, hey, if you won’t do any retractions, peeps, I will:

“Sorry we called you a liar Mr. President. We spend way too much time extrapolating to the point of absurdity.”

—Peggy Noonan & Darryl Issa

There are signs of life, however. A recent Quinnipiac poll found (as per Chuck Todd) that:

“49% of Republican respondents say that congressional GOP leaders are doing too little to work with Obama on big issues.”

This is compared to only 22% of Democrats who say the president is doing too little. Who are these sane republicans? Why are they hiding? Of course, a while back Laura Ingraham drew the exact opposite conclusion in her article: Why Moderate Republicans Are Killing The Party. Let’s take a moment to reflect on Ingraham and where she has proven right about something in the past:

Well, there you have it—an impressive list for sure.  Moderate republicans need to emerge if this group has any chance of returning to power. Oh wait, I almost forgot…I don’t care anymore. As long as the GOP remains out of power our country stands a chance.

Here’s a like-minded gent from the New Yorker:

“More and more, it’s looking like it will take Hillary Clinton, or another Democrat, succeeding Barack Obama in the White House to bring about real changes in the G.O.P. To put it another way, the great G.O.P. freak show still has a ways to run. From the point of view of the cynical heckler in the cheap seats, that’s just dandy: extremism and nuttiness makes good copy, and it keeps the Republicans out of the White House. The problem is that, diverting as it is, the show is paralyzing the government and doing great damage to the country.“

—John Cassidy

Someone recently made the analogy how the GOP always jams a stick in the spokes of our government and then complains the bicycle is broken. That’s exactly what they are doing. I just found this article in the New York Times which, again, echoes many of my themes: Has The GOP Gone Off The Deep End? Wish I had since this before I started this post. My favorite line:

“There is a striking correlation between the rise of conservative talk radio and the difficulties of the Republican Party in presidential elections.”

—Thomas Edsall

This article is a must read…er, even though you already heard that point here first. What’s nice is Edsall’s feature uses primarily republican accounts of their own party’s imminent demise. Meanwhile, Nate Silvers thinks the GOP has a shot at the Senate for the midterms. I’m afraid the guru is wrong on this one. Never underestimate republican incompetence. I think losing the 2016 presidential election is the best case scenario for the GOP. They are likely to stay out of power much longer. They aren’t a group known for their ability to adapt…or to process information…or to understands stuff…or to course correct…or, frankly, to walk and chew gum.

“They’re about sharp as a sack of wet mice.”

—Foghorn Leghorn

Yes, some of this is wishful thinking, because if a moderate version of republicanism were to form in the near future all bets are off. Despite their disgusting display in recent years, the GOP is still hanging around with a fair share of voter support. A tack toward the center could send them sailing and, at this point, this is not a ship I ever want to see christened again—unless, of course, I have a full bladder.
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US Men’s League Opening Doors for Ousted European CHL Goalies

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US Men’s League Opening Doors for Ousted European CHL Goalies

Hatfield, PA—Earlier this week the CHL, parent league to three Canadian Major Junior Hockey leagues, the WHL, OHL, and QMJHL, announced that starting with this year’s draft, European goalies will only be eligible in the first round. This restriction will radically decrease the number of European goalies in the league.

“For me, it’s all about opportunity,” said Ron Tugnutt, the CHL’s former goalie consultant. “There’s nothing wrong with goalies in our country and there’s nothing wrong with how we’re developing them. They’re just getting, as Roman Maroni once said, ‘pucked up the ice hole.’”

Pierce Winslow, CEO of the Daily Discord and winger for the Castoffs, a Hatfield 30+ Men’s C-League team, disagrees, “I think Canadian twelve-year-olds are bunch of whiny pussies. The reason they’re not getting ice time is because they suck.”

Winslow has extended an invitation to any European goalie excluded from the draft due to this new ruling. “Hey, we don’t play this exclusionary shit,” said Winslow. “Consider this an honorary puck to citizenship. Hell, even our ‘men’s league’ team has a chick on it, so I think we can easily wave that 30+ crap. I’ll even take a twelve year old girl; especially a twelve year old girl. The one on my team makes Zdeno Chara look like…well, a twelve year old girl.”
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Record Store Day

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Tony Ballz

At last year’s Record Store Day I couldn’t get my lazy carcass out of bed at 10AM, so I missed most of the goodies. This year I set my alarm. While perusing the list of releases, I stumbled upon the news that Motown was putting out a limited edition (5000 copies worldwide) of “It’s My Time”/”Go on and Cry”, the unreleased 1966 single by The Mynah Birds, the legendary group containing unlikely bandmates Neil Young and Rick James Bitch. The record geek/Neil freak in me salivated. Must … have … aargh (drool runs down chin).

Record Store Day was launched in 2008 as a way to drum up business for mom-and-pop retail music outlets. Many record labels, indie and non, release limited edition discs that are snapped up quickly.

It’s kind of like Black Friday in reverse. Instead of the vast majority of shoppers out braving riot-like scenes at the mall, Record Store Day’s clientele is a slim minority who would blanch if you called them “shoppers”. Instead of fighting for the best bargains, they will swallow any price slapped on the product with minimal grumbling (don’t want to appear uncool now). And while Black Friday signals the official start of the Christmas season, Record Store Day is near to no holiday, so it’s unlikely most items purchased are given as presents. It’s the difference between buying stuff for your friends and family versus buying stuff for yourself.

We would be SOL here in Flag if not for the existence of the Rock-It Man, seeing as how it’s THE ONLY PLACE IN TOWN to buy new records. Unless you count Hastings, which I don’t (does Hot Topic still sell vinyl?).

Saturday morning, I hopped out of the sack and rode downtown. I hit the Rock-It Man at 10:00 on the nose and was dismayed to find a line around 30 deep. Patience, patience. I thumbed through the dollar albums on the sidewalk and struck paydirt: Tim Buckley’s Lorca (in near-perfect shape), Mose Allison, Eddie Harris, Nilsson, the insanely rare There Are but Four Small Faces LP on Immediate, and a couple for my broke-ass roommate (Dylan’s Desire and Dave Mason’s Alone Together on the marbled vinyl). Score!

Dirty Steve was about the 12th person in line, waiting for the Morrissey/Poison Idea split 7″ (he left the store empty-handed and pissed). I told him I hoped the scene outside didn’t end up like that Who concert, with people shoving and breaking glass and getting trampled and setting stuff on fire and screaming: “No, no, outta my way, I MUST have the pink vinyl 78rpm Norah Jones/Danzig split! They only printed up 20! Put it down, you bastard, it’s mine! (sound of shotgun being cocked) I SAID PUT IT DOWN!”

I needn’t have worried. The collector scum, excuse me, record nerds waiting outside were quite docile, blinking in the AM sunlight like rats finally let out of the basement, their skin all pasty and near-translucent from constant exposure to the computer monitor glow. These were my people.

Eventually, I stepped into the inner sanctum. Ben was happily ringing up customers, of which there were at least 20 lined up. Of course, the 7-inches were on the far wall, blocked by all the bodies. I skimmed past the first few LP offerings: the Empire Records soundtrack, Phish’s Junta, the Breakfast Club soundtrack … thank you, no. Kind of wish I was still into The Flaming Lips, every Record Store Day would be twice as fun.

I scanned the wall and then I spied it: The Mynah Birds single! Oh my God, THERE WAS ONLY ONE LEFT! I broke into a sweat, my heart pounding. Easy, easy now … breathe … it took every ounce of restraint to not dive over the CD racks and start clawing at the seven or eight people between me and the object of my desire. I waited patiently, eyes locked on the prize.

I spotted a friend halfway up the line and I calmly asked her to grab the record when she was near enough. Situation in hand, I reeled in some booty: an unreleased Gene Clark single from 1970, a double pocket “Diddy Wah Diddy”/”Moonchild” set by Captain Beefheart, a 40-minute “Dark Star” 12-inch from The Grateful Dead’s Europe ’72 tour … and jumpin’ Jehosaphat, an import 7-inch of “Tin Soldier” by The Small Faces, one of the greatest rock and roll songs ever pressed up on wax. Seriously, it’s flawless. The way the arrangement stops in the middle so Ian MacLagan can pound out those electric piano chords and then Kenney Jones cracks his snare while Ronnie Lane’s bass goes ZOOP! into the bridge … Goddamn, it makes you glad you’re alive.

The guy in front of me started chatting. He was picking up a copy of the Phish LP, and he informed me that the original had a long psychedelic jam on side six that didn’t make the CD or the current issue. I said maybe there’s one of those cool etchings on that side instead and we both silently marveled at the possibilities.

The super ultra Phish reissue (limited edition of 6) had deluxe artwork, with the cover drawing inked in gold flecks mixed with the blood of a newborn bald eagle onto one of those sepia-toned daguerrotypes they used before film was invented. Each disc was as thick as a mountain bike tire, and the whole package weighed 175 pounds. It cost about two years’ rent and he had to bring in a co-signer and put up his house as collateral.

Amidst a cloud of incense smoke, the Rock-It Man staff brought the record out from a climate controlled vault on a velvet pillow, followed by a troupe of fire eaters, belly dancers playing finger cymbals, acrobats doing somersaults, and a nine-year-old Nubian boy who struck a small gong every 30 seconds. The procession followed the guy outside and chanted as he safety-belted the record firmly in the passenger seat of his VW van. He opened the side door and the fire eaters, belly dancers, acrobats, and the nine-year-old boy all crammed into the back of the van and it drove off. Man, Phish sure has some dedicated fans.

I looked at the wall. The Mynah Birds single was gone! My heart sank. I resigned myself to the knowledge that “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and prepared my plan to wait around the corner and beat the living crap out of whoever the culprit was, grab the record out of his hands and run like hell. Luckily, my friend turned around, said “here you go”, and put the artifact in my sweaty palms. Whew! I had it! Number 3197! Sure hope I remembered to bring my wallet.

Back at the house, I cranked the Mynah Birds and it sounded fantastic. I daydreamed: what if Rick James hadn’t been arrested for draft evasion in 1966 and the record had come out and it was a smash hit? Would the world of music have been any different? “I’m Neil Young, bitch!” Hmm, doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Only after arriving home did I realize I had purchased “Tin Soldier” twice: on an LP that cost a dollar and on a single that cost $15.99. Welcome to Bizarro World.
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Liz Cheney Wanted for Exploratory Committee War Crimes

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Liz Cheney Wanted for Exploratory Committee War Crimes

Washington, DC—Liz Cheney’s exploratory committee is already steeped in controversy. After deciding to run for a senate seat in Wyoming, the former vice president’s daughter allegedly wiretapped a number of politicians and journalists alike in an attempt to gather information she claimed, “Is vital to American security.”

Cheney is standing by her decision to eavesdrop on potential political rivals and told critics today, “My actions are legal under the FISA Amendment of 2008, the Patriot Act of 2003, and the My Daddy Knows Where You Live Accord of 2013.”

Other reports suggest incumbent, Senator Mike Enzi, was waterboarded yesterday by Cheney in his Casper office headquarters.

Cheney told critics, “Such activity is now legal under the Geneva Conventions and international law.” We’re Kidding! She just said, “Our founding father would have wanted it this way,” and then added, “Look, I don’t have a campaign manager yet, so I will need to implement my own enhanced election techniques until these duties can be delegated to either my Secret Political Commandant or my Black Ops Campaign Financial Manager…until then, deal, bitches.”
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Godzilla Accused of Racial Profiling

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Godzilla Accused of Racial Profiling

The Pacific Ocean—A Japanese fishing vessel went missing just after the captain reported a near miss with a giant black iceberg. His last words were, “The iceberg…it saw us!” We all know what that means; Godzilla is back in town, well, not our town. You see, Godzilla is a racist. He only targets the Japanese. Isn’t it time Godzilla stopped supporting a Republican agenda? Grow up Godzilla. Learn to kill indiscriminately, like Obama.

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The Brewery Trap: “Let’s Get a Little One”

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Mick Zano

Flagstaff, AZ— We stepped right into it—right into a Hefescheiss as it’s called in Deutschland. Clearly the powers that be wanted us to stay. For the record, it was the only time I had ever gone to Mother Road Brewery for Purposes Other Than Ale (POTA). Hey, wasn’t POTA just struck down by the Supreme Court?

By the way, the Discord/Mother Road video is set to release July 13th… and I am just thankful we made it out of there before then. Our cameraman, Greg, and I needed to see about a P. A. system for our next video release extravaganza (VRE). Earlier we ran into Lauren @ Flag Brew, a Mother Road barkeep cheating on her alma malter, and she recommended a place adjacent to the brewery. As the dark clouds loomed, we drove the whopping two blocks southward.  I pulled into the brewery parking lot—something I never do—thinking, well, we’re only going to be here a few minutes…

As I have come to learn, never think…especially in italics.

Shit, the P. A. equipment is booked for the 13th, so we head back to my Impala, greatly saddened. Then we find a beer truck blocking our egress. The master brewer of Mother Road, Urs Riner, tells us they have a few pallets of malty magic to Mother Load, sooooo…

…Let’s just get a little one.

The guy’s name is Urs (Oars) Riner; isn’t that the coolest name for a brewer ever? I actually prefer Urs Light myself.

So we get a beer, which at Mother Road is not a great hardship. Their black IPA, Lost Highway, rocks. Just as we down the last of our hoppy goodness, the beer truck pulls away. We say our goodbyes to Sharon, the barkeep, and again head toward my Impala—we might has well have struck off for Mordor on ‘shrooms (which I have).

Just then a second beer truck pulls across the exit.

Crap.

Urs tells us it won’t be long to load but, still…

…Let’s just get a little one.

Halfway through this loading procedure the skies have some unloading to do themselves, and the area is assailed by dime-sized hail—which would have been awesome, were it legal tender.

Zano vs. the Hail

So, this freak storm of ice and rain grinds this beer loading procedure to a proverbeerial halt.

“Hey, Greg…”

“What?”

…Let’s just get a little one.

Did I mention they have 10 OZers @ Mother Road? …which is usually reserved for my filet mignon or NY strip, but these were desperate unsure times, like that time I wore a Free Mubarak T-shirt in Tahrir Square.

Finally the storm ends, the beer loading is complete, and those trapped by the weather and the business related activities were free to go…or so we thought.

The truck refused to move from the entrance.

Hey Greg…Let’s NOT get a little one.

We jump into my Impala and pull to the end of the parking lot and beep. The truck pulls forward and the beer gods finally permit our escape.  However, the flash flooding caused by the storm made for a harrowing ride home.

The Ride Home

The moral of this story? Never go to your favorite brewery in your hometown without ordering a pint; otherwise the Beer Gods have a way to exact revenge…on your entire town.

 Stupid Beer Gods.

Hey…Let’s just get a little one.
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Snowden Widens Asylum Search to All M-Class Planets

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Snowden Widens Asylum Search to All M-Class Planets

Somewhere— Denied refuge in any country on Earth, whistle-blower Edward Snowden is expanding his search to all planets the Hubble found to be earthlike. When explained how scientists can’t be sure of any planet’s habitability outside of our own solar system, Snowden wept.

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Tunguska Blast Mystery Solved? NASA: “It Was a Space Fart”

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Tunguska Blast Mystery Solved? NASA: "It Was a Space Fart"

Washington, DC— Only days after the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine claimed to have solved the 105 year old mystery of the Tunguska devastation, NASA offered a different solution.

“It was not an icy meteor,” said NASA head, Charles Bolden, “It was a little understood gastral anomaly known as a space fart. Whereas we don’t really understand the mechanisms behind space farts, some theorize they occur when the universe all orders too much Mexican on the same night.”

This theory is also known to astronomers as Smell’s Theorem and is controversial in the scientific community. Other scientists believe these discharges originate from the ass end of a black hole, which scientists refer to as a “singularity but deadly.”
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