You Know What’s Not Cool?

• Shooting an elderly nun dead cause you’re pissed off an old Catholic man reminded you of someone else who called you names 600 years ago.

• Spendind time building and burning effigies when you could spending that time teaching your kids not to hate others.

• Burning people’s places of worship to retaliate for words.

I mean, I can understand you guys might be angry, but which of you thought up the brilliant idea of smashing and burning things as a means to show the world the Pope was wrong about Islam being violent? Or maybe the point was that it was wrong of him to call attention to it?

You know, it’s like the dilemma of someone you don’t know that well having something on their face, let’s say a chunk of coleslaw. You want to mention it because it’s bothering you, but you don’t want to embarrass them or make them think you’ve been hung up on it the whole time. You’d almost rather they ended up in the washroom at some point and discovered it by themselves. Sure, they’d be embarrassed that it was on their face the whole time, but at least they won’t have anyone to blame but themselves.

But what if they come out of the washroom and it’s still there?

Well then somebody’s gotta say something…and you better hope to shit it’s not you.

Well, lots of Muslims have a big piece of coleslaw on their face. And they’ve had it for a very long time. And that coleslaw is an assload of anger, spawned from a religion that obviously has been interpreted in many drastically different and often problematic ways.

And ol’ Papa Ratzi calls ’em like he sees ’em.

Maybe what he said wasn’t nice to Islam, but you don’t see anybody smashing their TVs or burning the NBC building in New York over this.

It’s because most other religions appear to have grasped the concept of free speech. Hell, even radical 700-club watching Christians may only write a letter to their Congressman if they get offended, as a worst-case scenario. Free speech isn’t always gonna agree with you or your religion; it may even be downright offensive, but you listen and disagree peacefully. Or else people won’t take you seriously.

Who knows? Maybe it just feels good to burn an effigy. Maybe it’s like crack: if you try it once, you’re hooked. Shit, the non effigy-burning world could be missing out on the best experience in life. Still, I’ll never know what I’m missing, cause I don’t burn things when I get angry. I mean, one time my buddy and I burned a life-size cardboard stand-up of Regis Philbin we stole from Walmart, but we were quite happy at the time if I recall correctly.

So what now? Do we only say nice things about Islam, and maybe they’ll eventually feel so good about themselves the Middle East will burst with goodness, solve all its problems and become the new Ibiza (minus the alcohol)? A land of smiles, dancing and sunshine?

Or do we do this?

Whatever approach we choose, we can’t be afraid of expressing our opinions under the threat of violence.

And sorry, guys, but no: you can’t burn the Internet.

FOoI Newsflash: Rumsfeld Gets it Hard

Buckling under increasing international pressures, U.S. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld claims to be relieving stress partaking in rich and intense sodomy at the hands of his ‘personal trainer’, ‘Adam the Firefighter’.

Shown at left addressing the public in the White House pressroom, Rumsfeld claims that his best work on the international stage is done “either during or immediately after deep and penetrating anal.”

“It really clears my head, among other things,” The Secretary of Defense added.

Though Rumsfeld’s colleagues do seem to be noticing an improval in both the quality and the coherence of his decisions, some White House staffers do question the appropriateness of his actions.

“Getting done hard from behind is fine in your office or in the White House kitchen, but in the press room, people expect a certain level of discretion,” responded U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice.

“I mean, just yesterday, I heard piercing screams coming from the washroom. When I went to check it out, I found Rummy and Adam nailing extra hard on the press bathroom floor,” continues Rice. “Ed Henry from CNN had slipped in shock and almost split his head on the bathroom sink. Adam had to pull out from Donald’s anus and help the poor guy up.”

Rumsfeld responds to these concerns with the same steadfast determinism with which he leads America’s defense.

When Aliens Invade

What do you do when your president is talking total bullshit?

Add a cringeworthy laugh track.

Putin’s Been Smoochin’

There’s no easy way to ask the leader of your nation why he just kissed your handsome young boy on the stomach, but here’s a try: “Why the crotch did you just lift up my son’s shirt and kiss his supple and exposed stomach?!”

Yes, shown here, we have Vladimir Putin, president of the Russian Federation, who, while greeting some tourists in the Kremlin, squatted down and asked a young boy his name, while holding him tenderly around the waist.

“Nikita,” replied the precious blond boy, his eyelashes batting and lips pursed.

And then, the antecedents of which are shown in the picture, beloved Putin lifts up the young man’s beater and plants a tender one on his stomach, before patting him on the head and walking away.

Needless to say, the tourists were left gaping. Don’t believe me?

Click Here.

I’m not coming to any conclusions, but I can tell you that my girlfriend, born and raised in Russia, has never heard of any custom involving the disrobing and kissing of young boys’ midsections (in public, at least).

Thus, there can only be three possible explanations for this:

1. Putin is spearheading a new political campaign: “Moscow Midsections, St. Petersburg Stomachs: Clean Navels for a Clean Conscience.”

2. The former mid-level KGB agent was inspecting for sub-cutaneous surveillance wires in the small boy using some of the most sensitive nerve endings in the body: those in the mouth.

3. The Russian Chief of State is a dyed-in-the-wool closet pedo, who just took one step too far out of the closet.

At any rate…

Poka vsyo!

HARPER VOWS TO “GET BUSY LIVING”

After a hard fifty-five days of intense campaigning, newly-elected Prime Minister Stephen Harper is ready to shed some of his demonic power and “really get to know Earth’s surface”, as he stated yesterday evening after Paul Martin conceded defeat.

Working from both his offices on Earth and in the Inferno, Harper has shown tremendous tenacity on the road to securing his party’s 124 seats in Canada’s House of Commons, from non-stop coast-to-coast travel to the kissing of numerous elderly Canadians. Having proudly succeeded, Harper told press that he was happy to finally be able to experience the sensations and feelings that normal Earth-bound humans live every day.

Having been under the watchful eye of his patron demon Asmodeus, commander of 72 legions of demons, Harper informed Canadians that he was kept essentially “half-alive” since his appearance in the political scene in 1985, as an aide to Conservative MP James Hawkes. Asmodeus, known to hate water, decided on posting Harper in the Canadian praries, as opposed to other, more traditionally lake-filled provinces such as Ontario or British Columbia. Asmodeus also told reporters that Harper will now be free to possess all five human senses, and, having accomplished his 26-year mission, has been given signed authority by Satan himself to live exclusively on Earth’s surface if he so wishes.

“Today, I was allowed to smell for the first time,” Harper said early Tuesday morning, his eyes watering. “Do you have any idea how good fresh-baked cinnamon buns smell?….Holy shit, I’ve been missing out…they’re friggin’ awesome!”

Harper hopes that new, non odour-based opportunities will continue to arise in his quest to experience all of humanity’s pleasures, and is confident that his new found tactile sense will also improve his marriage.

When asked what he plans to do with his free time, Harper answered “Really get busy living. I plan to travel quite a bit. I’ve always wanted to see the Vatican from the inside; maybe meet the Pope. You know, find out what we’re up against.”
Mr. Harper will be the 22nd Prime Minister of Canada, and is excited to take his seat in Parliament alongside his colleages to help Canada become a better nation.

“Of course, not all of my Hell powers are gone. I’ve been allowed to keep a few of my choice as a farewell gift. That’s a good thing, because some of them were too good to give up,” he stated, laughing.

Oh, Keith…Hold ye not yon sign?

As I type, Mr. Keith Fountain of the Conservatives (the aforementioned Harper clone) is currently outside my office window on a street corner (Bronson and Carling), surrounded by about eight supporters holding signs bearing his name. Every now and then, a car honks, but I’m pleased to hear they’re not honking too often. Keith’s chosen to stand out as a leader among them by not holding a sign himself. Instead he’s waving with both his gloved hands and passing cars. This raises a few thoughts:

1. I suppose the people with him are unemployed or else they would be either at work or in one of the cars on their way to work. This suggests that they’re hopeful that a new government will help them secure a job. Guess what, Todd? If you eat your morning cheerios out of an empty can of spaghettios, there’s nothing the government can do for you.
2. What, Keithy, you’re too good to hold your own sign?

3. He’s actually pretty handsome in person. Being taller than the people around you is always the first mark of a leader (ignore people like Napoleon).

4. I gotta go because, like I said, this is taking place outside my office.

The Sexual Lives of Our Politicians

I just can’t seem to take anything serious about the upcoming Federal Elections in Canada. Regardless of what crisp and weighty slogans they can give to it, like “Decision Canada”, it still feels like an unwanted runaround of ideas that that will ultimately lead to us watching House session after House session of an angry opposition party trying to topple whichever party wins a minority.

So, rather than pretend I can insightfully comment on political policies and standpoints, I will stick to what I’m good at: making derogatory comments about people’s sexuality. (You got a problem, five-inch?)

The idea of the rich sexual tapestry that is a political party came to me after realizing that my traditionally NDP riding’s leader-of-the-pack candidate Paul Dewar is the 40-year-old virgin with a perm.

That nose, that chin, that smile. Now this is a man with morals, and I think the NDP must know it. But a Virgin at 40? It’s not that hard to believe actually. A clean high school upbringing, a focus on good values and academics, pressure to succeed and then running for political office at such a young age can wane a man’s libido and leave him a sparkling representation of everything the NDP stand for: clean sheets and equality for both genders (ie. abstinence, as really great sex should always be degrading to either the man or the woman). Is it a coincidence that the poster for the movie uses the NDP colours? You be the judge.

As for the Conservatives, Since Stephen Harper’s sexual habits are of no interest to any Canadian, in the interest of stirring dialogue, he has opted to commit an asexual crime against nature and has created a ten-year-younger, clone version of himself to run in Ottawa Centre going by the name of Keith Fountain.

Harper’s demonic doppleganger has stated that he is interested in clean, smog-free air as well as equitable child-care, news that came at much dismay to his genetic father, who was hoping that his clone would be more focused on spreading pestilence and eating homosexuals. Still, it’s important for Canadians to know that should Ottawa Centre’s seat be filled by the Conservative candidate, Fountain’s policies could change. Remember in The Island how Ewan McGregor’s synaptic scan yielded very interesting results? Being a clone, his brain was acquiring information from his genetic father (whom he had never met) that he could not have logically learned, such as how to drive, or how to draw detailed diagrams of watercraft. Already in the picture on the right, we see Keith Fountain admiring his genetic donor at a press conference as he walks past, thirsting for information, teachings and knowledge in open mental surrender. This means we may still see him burning rainbow flags before the 23rd rolls around.

Um…I think I’m done for now.