Topics

[1. Libertarianism.]

Okay, I think everyone here understands what a meme is, a "viral" idea that embeds itself in your brain.  Some of these memes are good for you, and good for society ("Coexist", "Pay it forward", etc), some are just a waste of time (Mahdgjickque), and some really aren't good for you.

A few examples of memes that aren't good for you are:

1.  Libertarianism.  The very idea of eliminating the one potential check on megacorporations and religious fruitcakes (ie, the alleged "government") in the sure and certain knowledge that the megacorporations will do the right thing or be destroyed by market forces is both hilarious and demonstratably false.

However, let's assume just for a moment that it IS true.  What are the ramifications?  MegaCorp A decides to cut corners, and produces shoddy cribs (I use this example because it's happened).  A bunch of babies strangle between the bars of the cribs, and eventually people move to another vendor.  We have reached the point the Libertarians predict, but in doing so, we have also killed a bunch of babies and now we have a bunch of unemployed people as well, because MegaCorp A either went out of business altogether, or at least laid off the production line.  When a big company goes down, there's a ripple effect through their suppliers (think GM), and the entire economy is harmed to some degree.

Had MegaCorp A been forced by regulation to produce cribs with a maximum distance between the bars, those people would still be employed, the babies would still be alive, and MegaCorp A's investors would still be receiving dividends in the long run, rather than short term minor increases due to less material being used per crib. 

The idea that corporations will think ahead without being forced to is ridiculous in the extreme, as has been proven multiple times in the very recent past.  Finagle and Murphy ensure that, as does the very nature of business, which is to minimize costs and maximize income.

So even if the Libertarians are correct, the meme is still harmful and essentially self-destructive.


2.  The Teabaggers.  Possibly the funniest self-destructive meme, here you have a vast horde of wage earners who have been sold on the idea that it is harmful to tax the rich (because they will supposedly fire everyone who works for them in a fit of pique), even more harmful to extend medical care to the poor (because paying for emergency room care for them is so much cheaper), and that the president is a Muslim, in the very same breath that they criticize his Christian pastor (Jeremiah Wright).

Basically, 20%+ of the population has been convinced to take to the streets in a show of solidarity with rich people who don't care if they live or die.  This meme, incidentally, was intentionally fabricated, funded, and desseminated by the Koch family.

3.  Change.  This was the most blatant meme-pushing since the invasion of Iraq.  Barack Obama had some damned good operators working for him, who generated just the right symbology and just the right non-speak speeches that he managed to fool 31% of the population (the other 25% would have voted for him anyway, out of political partisanship.

Of course, nothing has changed whatsoever...Obama's policies are identical to Bush's in every respect, but 46% of the country still believes that hopey-changey paradise is just around the corner.  This, of course, completely coopts 99% of the people that were against Bush's policies in the first place.

I could go on, but you get the point.  I'm not sure what to DO about this sort of thing...Beating the memes out of individuals is not so terribly difficult, but coming up with and propagating a set of memes to counteract the vast flood of bad memes out there is another matter entirely, and one I think we should discuss.

Okay for now,
Dok

No, we are not using that new thing you bought.  If you feel the need to use it, use it yourself.  I would, however, suggest that you NOT use the auxillary power assist or extension.  If you can't use it manually, then you're doing it wrong.  You don't even need it, and there's nothing you can do with it that you can't do with the things you already had.  Also, it will scare the neighbors, and they're already on the verge of rioting.

Okay for now,
Dok

There comes a time in everyone's life when you have to reevaluate what you stand for, what you believe in.  Just as the Buddha started out a rich man, and then had a nervous breakdown that changed the world, and just as Jesus grew weary of carpentry at 30, and started all manner of hilarity due to the Law of Unintended Consequences, each and every one of us has to periodically review our manner of thinking.

In 2002, I wanted to change the world, or at least a small part of it.  By 2006, I just wanted to watch it burn.  Nowdays, though, I have decided to enjoy the constant stupidity displayed daily in the news and in my City.  There's some really funny shit going on, and sometimes you just can't stop laughing.  Obviously, you have to remember TGRR's Law:  "Everything is funny when it happens to someone else.", and even Doktor Howl's Collolary: "It's even funny when it happens to you."

There is evil in the world.  There is suffering.  I can't do a damned thing about it.

There is good in the world.  I didn't do it.

There is also evil and good that I find amusing.  The actions of the Arizona "government", for example, are both evil and funny, and keep me giggling like a little schoolgirl.  Likewise, watching the Hopey-Changey crowd wake up and realize that Obama is just more of the same has filled me with mirth for a couple of years now.

There's also out-and-out nutbaggery that keeps me chortling (Lys, thanks for posting that genius of a Japanese "politician").  And let's not forget Basil, who I believe to be good (at least in intention), nutty, and absolutely hilarious.

And sometimes hilarity is enough.  Sometimes, having a good laugh is all that is required for a good day, the kind of day that gets you through the night with minimal use of brain-smashing substances.

In fact, sometimes hilarity is MORE than enough, but we all know that too much is always better than not enough, and if that means I have to bray my laughter in the faces of stupid people, well, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.  It even does some good...Jackasses like the Teabaggers don't respond to logic, for example.  Ridicule is your only weapon, so don't be afraid or "too polite" to have a good time at their expense.

That is, after all, their function.

Okay for now,
Dok

Tucson is a hard city.  Not the good kind of hard, with a soft exterior and a core of iron...No, it's more of an asphalt and jagged steel exterior, and a rotten core full of mold and failure.  Lots of people faceplant on that surface, not because they did anything wrong, but because they also didn't do anything right.

There's no real sense of outrage, here.  Freeky and I frequently do bad things in public, in broad daylight, potentially in view of small children, impressionable retards, and Welsh people.  In any sane society, we'd be beaten like dogs for our own good.  Fortunately, however, we live here, and what we do is considered only a tiny bit weird by the geeks and horrible perverts that live here.  The police don't care.  They're all about to be laid off, and they know it.

Neither one of us should be allowed to own a four wheel drive, and there should be a law against us driving in the legal district.  No, it's entirely too much fun blasting down congress at 1AM, hooting at the few remaining partiers, and dodging the drunks that stagger into the road, with a randomness that calls to mind the old Frogger game.

But what the hell can we do?  There's an inexlicable sense of desperation here, a feeling that The Fun™ may soon come to an end, so we'd better get ours while we can.  You feel like Doom is right around the corner, and it may as well catch you laughing like a loon, instead of cowering in a corner.  As a result, Freeky and I get a little dumber every day, and it's only a matter of time before the hammer comes down.  But what of it?  What is luck there for, if not to push it?

I suspect that Tucson isn't alone in this respect.  I suspect that all over, people are feeling the same impending Doom, and reacting to it as they've been conditioned.  Just like in 2002, people are going to be asking each other where each other was, when IT happens, whatever IT happens to be.

So, I have to ask you:  What will YOU be doing, when the Fun stops?

Okay for now,
Dok

Good old smilin' George W Bush...He made politics fun, and he got good people into politics for the same reason that Obama is driving them out.  I won't say I miss him, though I already miss the era, but I do sort of feel bad for the guy.

If you think about it, it's impossible to become president of the United States without being a complete power junkie...Food and whiskey and perversion are not enough.  Only power is a strong enough drug for a politician.  Also keep in mind that the United States, though in decay in some ways, is a little more powerful each year, and has for almost a century been the most powerful empire in history.

So Bush served his two terms, and then had to go home.  What do you do after that?  What possible ambition could you have left?  Unless you're Jimmy Carter, it's the end of the road.  There's literally nothing left to look forward to, no goal to attain that in any way approaches what you've already done.

That has to be a special kind of hell for anyone ambitious enough to have wanted the job in the first place.  People that have the drive to get elected president don't "relax".  It's not in their nature.  They are like hammerhead sharks.  They have precisely one drive:  To feed, even on their own.

But once you've served two terms, there's nothing left to eat.  Except yourself.

Goodbye, George.  You were a crook and a fascist and a bit of an idiot, but you were also the architect of your own reward, which you are now reaping:  Nothing left to shoot for, and a couple of bored secret servicemen that have to stick by you, 24/7, until the day you die...So you can't even reflect on your lack of any future in solitude.

Okay for now,
Dok

"Xicked" from TCC has supposedly regged here.

But check out the email addy.

CLEAN OUT YOUR FUCKING VOICEMAIL.  HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO SCREAM OBSCENITIES INTO YOUR VOICEMAIL IF THE FUCKING THING IS FULL?

JESUS H CHRIST, WORK WITH ME, PEOPLE!

It is my sad duty to inform you that LMNO was strangled by his mustache last night, in a freak accident involving a batter-mixer, a one-legged Guamanian prostitute, and a "clapper".  Details are too silly to be brought up at such a solemn time, and the police apparently took one look and refused to investigate. 

The executor of his will, one Doktor Alphapance, has however stated that the Guamanian prostitute has been properly stomped and thrown into the cargo hold of a Samoan-crewed cargo ship, presumably to be torn to pieces like Vic Morrow on a film set.

I think this serves as a stark reminder to our youth, that powered equipment - no matter how small - should not be employed as sex and/or grooming devices, especially when operated by a "clapper".  Especially when the Guamanian seems to have decided to play Riverdance in the background, resulting in the batter mixer going totally haywire.  Kids, use only manufacturer's approved devices for this sort of thing.  That UL label is there for a reason.

I'm going to miss LMNO.  He was a Glorious Faggot of the first order, and he kept Boston in check.  Now that he's gone, I expect the entire Eastern Seaboard to be engulfed in furries, Desu freaks, and really bad excuses for rock music.  Dimo can't do it all himself.

LMNO will be buried in the time honored Boston manner...He will be soaked in 151 proof alchohol, lit on fire, and thrown into traffic in the Big Dig tunnel.  It will be messy, and may cause multiple subterranian accidents, but I feel that LMNO would have wanted it that way.  It's how they'll do it in the Lifetime Movie, so why not help them with their accuracy.

So, Goodbye, LMNO.  We shall try to hold up your standards of making crude passes at Fred, though I have a feeling it just won't be the same.

Okay for now,
Dok

Nurse Freeky and I spent some time at the Meetrack this weekend, pouring cheap, shitty whiskey over the dregs of Lorazapam that hadn't quite metabolized.  That's how we get things done, she and I...That's how things are managed downtown.  

Sure, it isn't going to help anything, but we're not in the world-saving business.  No, we'll leave that to people who think that because we have power, we have wisdom.  We'll leave it to the Calvinists and the politicians and the teabaggers and the Obama fans...Those people who think that they can actually clamp down on 301 million people, and get the results they want.  They're obviously fools, and doomed fools at that.

We don't get bothered by them much, at least not after Robert the Republican got his ass stomped in the side parking lot by geriatric bikers a week or so ago, for the crime of talking politics in the Meetrack with a straight face.  It was bad noise, and it was dealt with the old-timey way, because the denizens of that dive are old-fashioned people.  I doubt we'll see Robert again.

Instead, we were all treated to Erin and Leah, two attractive grad students, doing the nasty on the ping pong table...While everyone else stood around debating the merits of various chili recipes, sipping on the horrible well drinks which is all that is served by the staff.

Only 6 city blocks away, hipsters sit in faux-hippie head shops, smoking hookahs and drinking Turkish coffee, lamenting how "ironic" Tucson has become...Knowing that as long as they stay on 4th Avenue, they are safe from the retribution they deserve.  They dress like Buddy Holly mixed with Bazooka Joe, and they talk in laconic voices, but speak only gibberish.  It's a shame and a disgrace, you know, there's never a drunken, mean cop nearby to club their non-prescription glasses around to the other side of their head.  They are the new scum, as Warren Ellis would put it, and they know to stay the fuck away from Drachmann Street, where we prefer the old scum.

At the Southern end of that leg of 4th Avenue is where the legal district begins, and my interest fades.  They are Important People there, with Important Eyebrows, and they make daily decisions that affect everyone in The City, from the trial and sentencing of criminals, to the debate over which of Pearson's crazy laws they will or will not enforce.  But you and I know The Truth, right?  Nothing they do makes any difference.  Criminals will still run free, perverts will still get their monkey on in semi-public places, and everyone ignores everything else the legal district does anyway.

It seems to me that the only people who have their heads straight in this burg are Erin and Leah, who have the sense to drunkenly fuck wherever the mood takes them, even if it means that a ping pong game gets interrupted.  This is not a century for half-measures, you see, and you pretty much HAVE to get your monkey on wherever and whenever you can, before the boom comes down.

And that's the meaning of all this gibberish, I think.  Have fun.  Scratch what itches.  Do those things you've been WANTING to do, because a time will come when you CAN'T, and then you'll wish to God that you HAD.  When the rock hits you, holler...Because when you're dead, you'll shut up like hell.  

Have I made myself clear?

I said...

HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?

Okay for now,
Dok

James Joyce
Emily Bronte
Thomas Hardy
Lord Byron
Emily Dickenson
William Butler Yeats


All of the above wrote pure shit, and should have been infected with smallpox and dropped down a convenient sewer.

Are you really leaving because of Peleus and the two that - for reasons that can only be explained by bad acid - agreed with him? 

Would George Strait quit, because a "critic" said something bad about him?  Johnny Cash?  Buck Owens? 

No, of course they wouldn't.  They'd just laugh (Except for Johnny, he'd curb-stomp the bastards), and keep bending those strings til the Hank comes out, and never mind the verbal feces from some pointy-headed freak in the Northwest.  Who gives a damn what a hipster has to say, anyway?  Not me, and if I have you figured right, not you either.

WWHWD?

Peleus did what he did specifically to run you off, because he hates anyone that can create anything.  It's formulaic with him, he's tried it on most people that write things around here, or draw, or anything else.  He's a critic, which is defined as "Someone who can't do anything, and is here to let you know that nobody else can, either."

So, yeah.  He's a worthless waste of oxygen...And you're going to let HIM run you off? 

As for Trip and Risus, well, Trip seemed to be trying to be "fair" because big meanies were picking on Peleus just because he was being a dick (I prefer that explanation over the idea that he knew he'd be hurtful), and Risus - I hope - spoke without thinking and then couldn't get his inner monkey to let it go.  I don't believe either one of them set out to hound you, though having read their posts, that's how I would have taken it, too.

So, yeah, you got angry and stomped off.  I can't say I blame you.  But you don't seem the type to run from adversity, and I am waiting for you to come back and lay a smackdown on the persons responsible.  I have your back, and so does Khara...And so do a lot of other people, if this board is anything like it ought to be.

Okay for now,
Dok

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=26183.30

Several people in this thread posted one liners.  Myself included.  Get cracking.

or 

Yes, anyone who posts one-liners should be banned immediately, unless they're Peleus, because that obviously means that the person in question is dumb.  Or something.  Also, anyone who says mean things about Ruby should be banned, because it makes Peleus a sad panda.

In addition, anyone who doesn't perform to Peleus' standards should be at least temp-banned, because Peleus is a fucking genius that adds so much to the board that it is worth losing people who post long-running content, just to keep that slack-jawed monkey fucker happy.

So I want to join Risus in joining Trip in joining Peleus in humiliating anyone who doesn't match up to the sheer Yatoo-ness that this board requires.  I also believe that anyone attempting any sort of content should be tarred and feathered, to save Peleus' valuable fucking time and sensibilities.

That is all.  You may now return to supporting your local retard.

Friends,

It is my sad duty to inform you that Professor Cramulus has left us.  It seems that he was found stabbed to death by what appear to have been syringes, in a filthy alley in New York City.  While he may have been poked to death by junkies, it is worth noting that the building adjacent to the alley where he was found houses a diabetes support group.

Nobody's really sure how he got to NYC, as he was last seen eating a bowl of "Sugar Coated Chocolate Bombs" in the breakroom at his place of employment, and police are looking into the possibility that he was "abducted by freaks".  Cainad has been named as a "person of interest".

Professor Cramulus was an esteemed colleague of mine, and the field of Assbaggery anthropology will not be the same, now that he's gone.  It is said that in his home town of ______, children weep and old people just shake their heads sadly, and say "Just like old John Dillinger, I tell ya!  Now we're gonna have to break up our stills."

They're running out of heroes in the hills of upstate New York, and with Professor Cramulus gone, the population will be at the mercy of revenuers, roving gangs of diabetics, and cancer babies.  Truly, it is the end of an era for them, and they may even have to move to civilization before the upside down people find them.

Cramulus will be interred in the time honored rural New York fashion...That is to say, his remains will be UPSed to an illegal landfill in the pine barrens of New Jersey.  He will be buried with his mustache, pipe, and the Browning Automatic Rifle he loved so dearly, and used to such effect on dirty rotten G-Men.

The pith helmet, unfortunately, was never found.

Dear Squiddy,

It has come to our attention that you are treating your fellow Floridians with something less than, shall we say, respect and common decency.  In fact, it seems that you've been a rotten bastard to many of them, and have shown little restraint in your criticism of their beliefs concerning Baby Jesus, the US Constitution (As they interpret it, and their interpretation is no less valid than yours, despite the technicality of them not having actually read it.), and their political efforts (To wit, the Tea Party.).

We've reviewed all the statements and witness testimony, and we have come to some conclusions:

1.  Dropping an obese and unwell 65 year old man down a manhole is NOT "helping him teabag".  Especially if the rope around his foot is 50 feet long, and it's only 12 feet to the bottom of the manhole.

2.  Mobility scooters are NOT "just like bumper cars", and are not capable of withstanding an impact from a standard sedan.  This should have been obvious, and we're not sure we believe your claims of ignorance.

3.  We do not feel that honestly mistaking the water rides at Disney for a bathroom is possible.

4.  "Donations" made in the poorbox of the local Evangelical Church should not be composed of hazardous biological substances, used tampons, or excrement.

5.  Paintball guns are not an acceptable counter-protest method.  Particularly when you aren't aiming at the signs of protestors.  One patient has had to have surgery, and any kids he has may be purple in color.

6.  Vomiting beer on newly-transplanted retirees is not an acceptable welcome to the great state of Florida.

7.  It's still rape if you yell "Margaritaville, bitch!".

8.  Vicious beatings of coworkers are frowned upon, even if they're "stupid".

9.  As 8, but concerning preschoolers, nuns, and "soccer moms".

10.  Crucifiction is not an acceptable way to help your neighbors "affirm their faith".

With the above facts in mind, we have recommended to the governor that you be expelled from Florida.  

Yours,
Doktor Howl
Uprightness Consultant to the Governor's Office.

[Iris Scanners Create the Most Secure City in the World. Welcome, Big Brother]

Iris Scanners Create the Most Secure City in the World. Welcome, Big Brother
BY Austin Carr Today


We've all seen and obsessively referenced Minority Report, Steven Spielberg's adaptation of Philip K. Dick's dystopian future, where the public is tracked everywhere they go, from shopping malls to work to mass transit to the privacy of their own homes. The technology is here. I've seen it myself. It's seen me, too, and scanned my irises.

Biometrics R&D firm Global Rainmakers Inc. (GRI) announced today that it is rolling out its iris scanning technology to create what it calls "the most secure city in the world." In a partnership with Leon -- one of the largest cities in Mexico, with a population of more than a million -- GRI will fill the city with eye-scanners. That will help law enforcement revolutionize the way we live -- not to mention marketers.

"In the future, whether it's entering your home, opening your car, entering your workspace, getting a pharmacy prescription refilled, or having your medical records pulled up, everything will come off that unique key that is your iris," says Jeff Carter, CDO of Global Rainmakers. Before coming to GRI, Carter headed a think tank partnership between Bank of America, Harvard, and MIT. "Every person, place, and thing on this planet will be connected [to the iris system] within the next 10 years," he says.

Leon is the first step. To implement the system, the city is creating a database of irises. Criminals will automatically be enrolled, their irises scanned once convicted. Law-abiding citizens will have the option to opt-in.

When these residents catch a train or bus, or take out money from an ATM, they will scan their irises, rather than swiping a metro or bank card. Police officers will monitor these scans and track the movements of watch-listed individuals. "Fraud, which is a $50 billion problem, will be completely eradicated," says Carter. Not even the "dead eyeballs" seen in Minority Report could trick the system, he says. "If you've been convicted of a crime, in essence, this will act as a digital scarlet letter. If you're a known shoplifter, for example, you won't be able to go into a store without being flagged. For others, boarding a plane will be impossible."

http://www.fastcompany.com/1683302/iris-scanners-create-the-most-secure-city-in-the-world-welcomes-big-brother?partner=homepage_newsletter

More fun at link.  

The first person who posts "if you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about," wins an interbutt.

It seems that I am not universally loved, even in Tucson.  I have been called a dope-sucking criminal, a deviant pill head, and a perverse brute with a sick sense of humor, among other things.  I can understand this, as it's basically all true.

But what I can't understand is why I can't enjoy a whiskey at a pervert bar, without being bothered by some 30-something scumbag conservative, there to tell me and Freeky about what a genius Dick Cheney was.  Is nothing fucking sacred?  This is a pervert bar you worthless sack of shit!  We aren't here to talk politics!  We're here to get fucking strange with our people.

The bastards have ruined everything.  The most degenerate bar in Tucson is now frequented by dockers and khaki young failures preaching the republican values that made this country what it is today.   This explains why the fucking place was empty of wildlife when we took Nigel and Mr Language there.  It's become trendy, so it's either empty or stuffed full of well-dressed morons with an axe to grind.

Well, fuck that.  I'm not required to waste a Friday night listening to some pre-rich geek bloviate.  By that point, he'd driven off the people we were talking with, and we decided to go.  But Freeky slipped on the stone bench and did the splits, damn near crippling herself.  The geek thought it was funny, so I offered to shove his teeth in.

When Freeky was capable of walking again, about a half hour later, we left.  The geek was being beaten out in the side lot by two 60-ish biker types, for reasons unknown.

With the Meetrack ruined, at least for the night, there wasn't much else to do but drive around town at ridiculous speeds, heckling the locals and generally acting like assholes until early morning.  We learned that you can, in fact, do a "Tokyo drift" in a front end-heavy Jeep, though I don't advise it.  We learned that The City isn't immune to its own filth.  We learned that it's still possible to have a good time – even in this century – if you're willing to put out some serious effort.

Freeky's still not walking right, and I've only had 6 hours of sleep in the last 3 days, but we did have that good time...Despite the geek and everything he stands for.

Okay for now,
Dok

http://thedailymash.co.uk

"Outrage builds as plans to build a library next to Sarah Palin continue."

I grew up in Slow Time.  As information was largely restricted to mail, 3 TV stations, half a dozen AM radio stations, and word of mouth, my older relations talked to me.  I had an immediate connection to events stretching back as far as WWI.  Hell, WWII - in Canada - was still fresh in everyones' minds in the mid 70s.

As a result, I had an appreciation for history that can't be garnered from a textbook.  Primary source material, if you will.  I remember my great-great uncle "Chick" (Charles) telling me and my brother about gas attacks in the trenches.  You had to listen closely, because he spoke in a whisper...And his skin was as white as a sheet, as he had about a quarter of a lung left.

I remember my (recently deceased) Uncle Bill, who wouldn't talk to us about WWII until we'd done our own time in the service, except when he had a little too much of my grandfather's homemade wine at Christmas...And then he'd tell us tales of the Falaise Pocket, of being surrounded by fleeing Germans, and of trying so desperately to relieve the Poles who were keeping the pocket shut.

My grandfather, who didn't serve due to not having a right eye (Childhood accident.  He tried and tried to bullshit his way into the military until they threatened to have him arrested as a nuisance.), told us stories of the horrible years of the great depression, and of the labor struggle, of fighting with Pinkertons (To this day, he spits if you say that word) with axe handles.

Back then, in Slow Time, I was a child surrounded by story-telling giants.

But time has sped up...As the man said, Charley stole the handle, and the train won't slow down.  Kids are raised by the internet and the TV, and they have precisely zero connection to anything older than 10 years ago at best.

It makes me wonder why we even keep track of what year it is, any more, you know?

Some say it's for the best.  The first half of the last century was hardly a picnic, and is there really any point to showing kids the awful horrors of Nazism and gas warfare?  

I disagree, but I don't think there's much to be done about it.  You can't turn back the clock, and you can't instill a sense of history in people that are just about physically wired into the present.  My generation is effectively the last bridge to the past, in a nation that doesn't want to hear stories that don't end in 120 minutes, wrapped up all nice and tight, with no annoying loose ends...And most of my generation is too drunk or spaced out in front of the TV to tell you any of that shit, anyway.

You'll find out, soon enough, anyway.  As some old wiseass said, "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it", and you can already see that happening, with the wave of nationalism and religious nutjobbery that dominates a nation "led" by Weimar Republic-esque wimps who don't believe in anything at all.

And those of you who survive will tell your children and grandchildren about it, and time will slow back down.  Or maybe not.  Maybe they'll just stare at you while you talk, watching the mpeg video that's playing on their cornea implants.

So let me bid you an early welcome to Slow Time.  Well, slow for you, anyway.

Okay for now,
Dok

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5g_T-LWQnklSqsN0ymDy46UnfSkOAD9HCUSC80

The party never stops!

1.  Never say never.

2.  Primates exist to make more primates, so they'll have more sources/targets of irritation.

3.  Be careful what you wish for, because there's usually no takebacks.

4.  Sometimes people just need to vent.  If a friend starts complaining about the unfixable, just listen.

5.  You hear more with your nose and your eyes than you do with your ears.

6.  Sometimes you just have to say "fuck it", and do something grotesque and/or stupid.  Life is too short to talk about being weird or filthy and crude.  Impulsiveness almost always causes problems, but it also breaks the monotony.

7.  Chevrolet hasn't made a good car since the Corsica.  The future isn't looking too bright, either.

8.  The only three things you have in life are life, health, and friends.  Nothing else really matters.

9.  The internet has done more to tame the monkeys than anything since TV.

10.  Drugs don't open a door.  You do that.  If you need drugs to do it, then perhaps you should examine your brain for a while, and see where your hangups are.

Okay, so you get a little sideways...Not a lot, you understand, but there's definitely a little wobble in the little motors that run your brain.  Good Roger is on one shoulder, and Bad Roger Redman is on the other, and they're both whispering advice, but there's a monkey in between screeching so loudly that you can't hear either one of them.

So you go through your workday with about a million things going on, both work-related and personal, and you really don't care because that damned Indian Head test pattern is on the inside of both of your eyelids, and the pills just aren't doing their thing right.  Obligations are starting to slip, deadlines are passing by, and the funniest fucking thing is that your boss takes a moment to say what a great job you're doing.

So you smile at him (And you try to make sure it isn't squiddy's smile, good fucking God, show THAT to the boss and he'll call the fucking cops.), and you say thanks, and you go back to spacing out, which everyone seems to think is a "absent-minded professor" look.  But it's not.

And then the SAP system takes a dive, and now you don't have even THAT to concentrate on, so you just sit at your desk and listen to the slushy noises as your bones melt, and give robot answers (That, strangely enough, seem to be correct.) to your employees when they come in to ask questions.

And that's what makes all of this so interesting...You know something's not functioning as advertised, but you can still give a pretty damn good imitation of being you, and you're kind of stunned by that fact, as you watch yourself get through the day without causing any undue alarm in your friends, family, or coworkers.  That's amazing, because your head is full of bad wiring and broken glass, and you really can't fathom how nobody is noticing it.

The temptation, of course, is to make a few bad decisions, and see if anyone notices.  Not because you suspect that they aren't real, but maybe because you suspect that you aren't...Or, more accurately, you might be real, but also invisible to those around you, like a piece of furniture or something. 

I've seen the same look on the whores in South Filth.  Their hard eyes look right though you as you drive by, like you don't exist (Arguably, for them you actually can't), but they have a trapped look that says "Hey!  I used to be a person, you know, a kid who liked to play and hang out with friends just like YOUR kid, but something happened and I stopped being a real person and became a commodity.  What happened?"

Funny thing is, I see that look on the faces of service sector employees and cube-farm inmates all the time, too.  And on housewives.  And students.  Everyone's becoming androids, tools, appliances for each other, and we've all stopped being people.

So at least, you know, it isn't just me.  Which makes me feel a bit better, in an odd sort of way.

Okay (for now),
Dok

Seriously.   

This subforum is for the study of horror as it relates to the 21st century, though historical examples are also welcome.  For a definition of horror, see "Fear, Loathing, and Horror".  Please note that this is not a dumping ground for news stories about bad shit happening, unless that bad shit is horror (as defined in the noted thread), rather than fear or loathing.

For example, a story on child soldiers is a loathing thing, and properly belongs in Aneristic Illusions.  On the other hand, a story detailing the fact that the "missing" oil from the BP spill is now UNDER the surface of the beaches affected would probably count as horror.  A story about banking malfeasance doesn't belong here, but a story like the fact that the banks took the bailout money and bought T-bills (thus collecting interest on the loan that WE gave THEM) does. 

We're also not looking for bigfoot articles or UFO theories, unless bigfoot has been DOCUMENTED flying the UFO and torching Los Angeles, and there's a scorched crater to prove it.  General conspiracy theories belong in High Weirdness.

Read the definitions before posting.  Expanding on definitions is desirable, if there's something worth adding, but beyond that, fear and loathing belong elsewhere.  They're easy to find, and would offer only distraction.

This topic has been moved to Horrorology (beneath TFYS).

[1. Fear:]

In describing the coming present weird times, and the study of horror that defines the Doktor's role in life, I think we have to nail down some terminology.  I'd like to propose the following definitions:

1.  Fear:  The sensation that something bad in the natural order of things is about to happen to you.  Example:  A dog approaches you, snarling and growling.  Your reaction is fear; something very bad is potentially about to happen.  Your fight or flight reflex kicks in, and you drop down a few neural circuits.  Another example:  You are a soldier on the front line, and someone starts to shoot at you.  This is part of the natural order of things for that environment, and causes fear rather than any other emotion.  How you REACT to fear will vary from person to person and event to event, and isn't really relevant to the definition (at least for our purposes here).

2.  Loathing::  The knowledge and distaste of something undesirable about the natural order of things, but isn't a direct, fear-causing condition (though anxiety is definitely part of it).  Example:  The knowledge that the next door neighbor owns a mean dog that occasionally menaces you, but isn't doing so at the moment...Or the soldier on furlough from the front, who knows that he is due to return to the fighting soon.  Displeasure, hatred, and anxiety are the root emotions, and again, the reaction may vary (see above).

3.  Horror:  The sensation of being confronted with something utterly outside of your perception of the natural order of things.  Example:  Same dog confronts you and starts singing Elton John tunes.  Or the soldier wakes up to find that his entire unit has pulled back in the night, leaving him to die (He has been ingrained with the belief that no man gets left behind).

Consider:  An infant is only afraid of two things...Loud noises and heights.  He hasn't yet had enough experience with the world to view anything else as a scary part of the natural order.  As adults, we know that there are demented people who like to molest and/or harm infants...This is a disgusting thing, but part of the natural order of how the world works, so we loathe it.  A child has no idea of this, and when the concept is introduced as part of the natural order of things, the child feels horror.  Once the child becomes accustomed to this new view, loathing kicks in...And a parent who loses track of her child at a crowded department store knows the natural order of things, and is directly confronted with the potential that someone has done something with her child, and you're back to fear.

So as we study the present century, and the events that lead up to it, we can distinguish between direct threats, bad things we know for certain will occur, and new things that increase our knowledge of the natural order of the world in ways that will be undesirable.  The first two have been studied (and if we worry about them, then we'll never get anything done), the third is our purview:  The Weird.  

It's a weird century, and we Doktors are Strangehunters.  Don't tell me about war, I know about war.  Tell me the new or at least previously unknown stuff.  We can predict those things based on fear and loathing, what we need to research is the horror.

Okay for now,
Dok

A number of you have suggested eventually visiting Tucson.  After a recent near-miss, I'd like to offer some little hints that may help prevent your horrible, ignominous death.

1.  If you are driving, make sure the car is RELIABLE.  Good brakes, good coolant system, good oil retention, everything.  If your car is suspect, rent one.  I cannot stress this point enough.

2.  If you are driving through the Sonoran or Mojave desert, bring NO LESS than FIVE GALLONS of water PER PERSON.  

3.  Always be aware that there are vast stretches of desert where conventional cell phones don't work, and if you're not on a main highway (I10, etc), it could be hours or days before anyone comes along...And not everyone will stop to help.

4.  Bring a hat.  Wear that hat.  The Arizona sun will bake your brain, right through your hair, in a couple of hours.  Any hat is better than none, but wide brim hats will keep you cooler and protect your face and neck from serious sunburns or even sun poisoning.

5.  If you become stranded, carry as much water as you can INSIDE YOUR BODY.  If you become thirsty, you're already dehydrated, and re-hydrating uses more water than staying hydrated.  Conserving water leads to sunstroke.  Sunstroke is fatal.  Nuff said.  Stay with your vehicle if you are not isolated from the road.  Also, distances in the desert are FAR greater than they appear.  DO NOT SMOKE.  Also - and this is crucial - if you have no water, DO NOT EAT.  If you have to walk out, do it at night.

6.  Remember, an unprepared, ill-equiped person's lifespan in the desert is measured in hours in the summertime, and perhaps a day or two in the winter.

7.  DO NOT FUCK WITH THE WILDLIFE.  Wildlife in Arizona comes in basically 2 forms:  "Poisonous" and "will beat you in a fight, 169% guaranteed, and will then eat you."  Sometimes both.

8.  Call when you even have a SUSPICION that you may be in trouble.  At least let someone know where you are, what direction you are traveling in, and when you expect to check back in.

9.  If you see armed men - not kidding here- go the other way.  Likewise, if you see a row of backpacks in the desert, LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.

10.  Stay out of the fucking washes.  Flash floods here develop in minutes.

11.  Drinking water from a cactus will likely kill you.  Most water-bearing cacti are loaded with an acid that causes the shits, which will dehydrate you and kill you.

12.  Stay off the ground.  Sleep on something that isn't dirt.

13.  The backseat of your car makes a wonderful signal fire, with horrible gouts of black smoke.

If I can think of anything else, I'll post it.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5g_T-LWQnklSqsN0ymDy46UnfSkOAD9HCUSC80

You knew this day would come.

The world seems a little smaller, a little more drab, than it used to.

But it doesn't have to be that way.  DEMAND Pulp Heroes to save us...After all, it's not like the government is going to do it.

I'll be making half and full size posters in the fall.

Some ideas:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_p0qAIuHdE&feature=player_embedded

And that's the way it is.

http://www.christiandomesticdiscipline.com

SCIENCE!


SCIENCE WIFF DA LIGHTS OUT!


Dok & Nurse Enabler.  Yeah, shaddap.


FREEKY GETTIN' HER FREAK ON!


MAHJGICKQUE!  AND MAH WOMAN, SHE HAS TWO FACES! (Or one really blurry one, like bigfoot.)


I CAN.  THEY CAN'T.  HAR!

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100729/ap_on_re_ca/cn_canada_franklin_ship_found

TORONTO – Canadian archeologists have found a ship abandoned more than 150 years ago in the quest for the fabled Northwest Passage and which was lost in the search for the doomed expedition of Sir John Franklin, the head of the team said Wednesday.

Marc-Andre Bernier, Parks Canada's head of underwater archaeology, said the HMS Investigator, abandoned in the ice in 1853, was found in shallow water in Mercy Bay along the northern coast of Banks Island in Canada's western Arctic.

"The ship is standing upright in very good condition. It's standing in about 11 meters (36 feet) of water," he said. "This is definitely of the utmost importance. This is the ship that sailed the last leg of the Northwest Passage."

The Investigator was one of many American and British ships sent out to search for the HMS Erebus and the Terror, vessels commanded by Franklin in his ill-fated search for the Northwest Passage in 1845.

Environment Minister Jim Prentice said the British government has been notified that one of their naval shipwrecks has been discovered, as well as the bodies of three sailors.

If you take some time and look at google images, you'll notice a certain amusing fact about US military uniforms over the last 220 years.  At first, they were functional as hell...Nice solid colors that made units look bigger and more intimidating when they lined up to volley-fire (that being the only effective way to use unrifled muskets).  Later on, they became dressier, as can be seen in the Spanish-American war, as weapons became more accurate.  TR had style....And by World War II, infantrymen went into battle wearing ties.  No shit.  Ties.

Of course, the Nazis ruined the snappy uniform forever, and the Sam Brown belts had to go, along with the cool boots, and you had the olive drab sacks worn by the cannon fodder in Vietnam.  I mean, if you're only going to give them 16 weeks of training, why bother putting any effort into a uniform that's going to get all bloody anyway?

By Operation Desert Storm, though, things got a little uglier than that.  The first "stealth" uniform was issued, a sort of overcoat with a pattern that "offends" the eye, so that you don't look directly at it.  Nowaways, the standard BDUs - Battle Dress Uniform - is made in a pattern that averts the eye far more effectively.  In a way, that's far grimmer than any trench-coat Gestapo outfit.  Not more evil, just grimmer.

And uniforms are just the beginning...aircraft went from fabric and string affairs that were more dangerous to the pilot than the enemy, to efficient monoplanes, to jets bearing missiles that can strike from up to 100 miles away, to unmanned stealth drones and space planes, piloted by some geek in Maryland with a Slurpee and a quarter taped to the top of his console like on a video game at the arcade. There's talk of building tanks using the same sort of technology.  As above, there's a certain cold, detached grimness to all of this.

It seems that humans just aren't efficient enough at killing other humans, or so the designs coming out of the military-industrial complex would have us believe.  Mass murder is mechanized, integrated, state of the art business, now.  How long before we don't even need that smarmy, self-satisifed geek in Maryland?  Do you really want to know?  Will you even know when it happens?

History began with a monkey braining another monkey with a rock.  It may very well end with a machine killing monkeys from 12 miles up...Oh, and here's a bit of horror for you:  If this automation continues for a few more years, and then the US falls apart, what will become of these unmanned, automated spaceplanes, tanks, etc?

My guess is they'll keep following their programs, becoming angry Gods to our descendents.

Isn't that a hoot?

Okay for now,
Dok
 

Well, not SO secret, just that nobody pays attention to it.

Many Americans know that the founding fathers were mostly Deists.  A Deist is one who believes in "God as watchmaker"...IE, God set the universe up, and let it run without further interference.

So it's obviously no surprise that the founders set our government up the same way (With the notable exceptions of Patrick Henry and Alexander Hamilton, who objected for very different reasons.).  In fact, given article V, it's even arguable that they set up a social program, designed to make the citizens of the union more free and more happy as time went on.

And it worked.  Slavery was abolished (though not without cost), women got the right to vote, the average life of the common man became better and better, for about 190 years.

Problem is, the program was based on a model, and the model was - as all models are - flawed to some degree.  This caused errors to appear, errors which grew with every iteration (or generation, in this case), until the system began to break down. 

For example, World War I was predictable at the time of the founding, and was probably taken into account.  World War II, on the other hand, was an error caused by errors made in 1918, and probably couldn't have been imagined by the founders.  Recessions were undoubtably taken into account.  The dustbowl and the depression, probably not so much.

We've now been cycling monstrous errors for 60 years, and the effects became noticeable about 40 years ago, serious 30 years ago, and untenable 10 years ago.  We exist in a broken Machine in a horrible reality that Machine built for us, not out of malice, but out of bad data...Small errors magnified over decades, until there are a million small problems, and a few huge ones, that the system simply can't cope with anymore. 

You can't really fix it, or hit the "reset button", as the Ron Paul crowd would like to do, because you can't change the past, and you can't make history go away without creating a worse monster than you started with.

The idea of "E-Democracy" won't help, either, because changing the controls on a broken machine doesn't fix the machine, it just adds further complexity and makes the problems worse.

If allowed to continue, the end result will be either an autocracy or an oligarchy (something guaranteed by Ron Paul's ideas, and those of the "E-Democracy" crowd, incidentally).  The founders probably knew this would eventually happen...They were nothing if not students of history.

You have to wonder if they saw this coming, and wondered if we'd be smart enough when the time came to develop something completely different, a new social program that would be able to carry on where theirs finally failed. 

And, well, if not, we had 220 years.  Not a bad run.

Okay for now,
Dok

Stop stressing, man.  Stop worrying about your perceived lack of ambition and your supposed lack of drive.

Stop worrying what you are going to do with your life, or what you want to be.  Fuck, I'm in early middle age, and I don't have any idea what I want to do with my life.  Hell, not so long ago, I'd be the oldest man in my fucking shithole village, venerated for the obvious wisdom that let me reach this advanced age, and I STILL wouldn't know what the fuck I wanted to do with my life.

Why?  Because if I decided that, I'd being a human doing instead of a human being.  I'd be slotted, catagorized, and petrified into one behavior pattern.

You're told that's the way you're supposed to be, that your education is leading up to a finish line, right?  Well, there's only one finish line, and the prize is a casket.  The POINT of your education, at this particular moment in time, is to enjoy getting that education.  There really IS a brass ring, Kai, but it's not later, it's now, you just have to grab it.

Enjoy today.  Tomorrow will fall on top of you when it's good and damn ready to.

Okay for now,
Dok

Hey, Dok, I have this problem, see?  The air is getting all thin, and smells of celebrity scandal and crooked politicians and dead pelicans on the beach.  I'm all out of breath, and it's not like a panic attack where you feel like you can't breathe, you know?

No, it's like that moment when the bad guys trip their ambush, and you're standing there with your thumb up your arse and a silly grin on your face, saying "Lord, for what we are about to receive, may we truly be grateful" while you frantically look for something nice and solid to drop behind...

...Or that feeling you get when you can see the storm blowing in, and the air is dead fucking still, you know, like it even resents being inhaled, you know the feeling.  And you gobble down your last Big Mac™ and you chug what's left of whatever shitty beer you're drinking, and you head down into the root cellar, hoping it isn't your tomb.

Or the icy feeling in your gut as you realize that you aren't going to regain control of your motorcycle.

Or the sure and certain knowledge that the system is in fact breaking down, and the only thing between you and aggressive coyotes is the diminishing number of blue collar tradesmen that still know how to fix the basic parts of the infrastructure, like power plants and so on...And the idea that even they are somewhat clueless, as you basically need 4 years of college or 20 years of experience to understand the PLC-driven systems that have replaced the old, reliable analog systems of yore.

And then one day, a starship pulls into Earth orbit, and the anthropologists come down and look around, and maybe they'll wonder where everyone went, there wasn't a war or anything, everyone just sort of died off, you know?  And they'll spend a thousand years wondering if it was disease or natural disaster, and eventually we'll become a fading part of their mythology, as the Mary Celeste of worlds.

But that's a long time from now, and I'm thinking that MY problem, this air thing, can only be solved with speed, lots of horsepower under the hood and an open highway back behind the boneyards, a highway that everyone else seems to have forgotten about.  Blast down that road, next to 3 miles of abandoned and decaying military transport aircraft, and listening to the radio while there's still someone broadcasting.

Okay for now,
Dok

This doesn't apply to all - or even most - posters, and no poster ALL THE TIME, but I'm noticing the return of a trend that used to occur in Think For Yourself, Schmuck, and now is happening in OKM and AT.  The Starbucks post.

You know the one...The pretentious, art-fart post that uses jargon and vagueness to hide the fact that nothing is actually being said by that person.  Just like if you are dumb enough to sit down with your coffee in a Starbucks, you'll be punished by being forced to hear some gasbag go on and on about the genius of Ayn Rand, or the glories of the free market...Made worse by the fact that the hipster in question doesn't actually know what he's talking about.

When called on this shit, the ballerina act begins.  Word definitions get all stretchy, or they'll argue that they're "just showing you the toolbox", etc, when asked for concrete examples of their mummery...Which, after 4 pages of trying to cut through the verbal fog they've generated, is enough to drive an otherwise rational man to mayhem.

Now, far be it from me to say that a person shouldn't post, but I reserve the right to sneer condescendingly and act like an asshole.

I think we can all agree that's fair.

Okay for now,
Dok

...I STEP TO HER AS WELL.

DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDS!  THIS MAN IS A TRAINED PROFESSIONAL!

Dok:  *is packing up pork shoulder for trip across town*

Freeky:  *is wearing stompin' boots with 5" heels, and is bending over packing some other shit*

Freeky:  "Okay, Dok, I'm ready!"

Dok:  *turns around to see big booty sticking up in the air in a short dress*

Dok:   

Freeky: 

As I am now largely deskbound, I was rather shocked by the resistance I ran into when trying to keep my electrical skills current.  It has been a never-ending series of static, and I feel that I have been kicked in the joules by my boss, which has created such a disconnect that I can only sit at my desk with my eyes closed saying "Ohm".

66 words, 8 puns, for a .12 pun density.

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=25189.30

Since it's okay for you to use one of my monikers, I've regged at stormfront and a couple of other racist/pervert boards as "Vexation".

You'll be famous as a king-hell Nazi by this time next year.

Won't this be fun?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpNesLvyBhM

I lifted the term from Warren Ellis, because nothing else applies.

I grabbed a few pictures for Nigel's project at lunchtime today, and two of them are of a particular strip mall where a friend of mine runs a comic shop.  Half of the strip mall is the welfare office, and right next to it is the trendiest new restaurant in town, a Puerto Rican joint.

The reason it's the trendiest new restaurant in town is that it has outdoor seating...Too hot to use during the day, but in the evening, the New Scum fight over spaces there.  The reason they fight over seating is that just after the sun goes over the building, the welfare offices close, and the silly rich fuckers get to enjoy watching and laughing at the people who were for whatever reason rejected service at the welfare offices (rejections are reprocessed, and appeals are done dead last.  Appeals almost never overturn a rejected claim.)

So these rich bastards apparently get a big boot out of sitting and laughing at the poor bastards who slowly, hopelessly shuffle away from the dashed hopes of the only help that was possibly going to be extended to them.  Charlie (my friend with the shop) says that some of the fuckers rate the air of desperation around these poor bastards, while they sip their shitty imported beers and eat $50 plates of arroz con pollo.

Something has to be done.  This cannot stand.

Posted for comment.  I am too furious to think of a proper method of dealing with this.

Okay for now,
Dok

So, Nigel, that building at 10th Avenue and SE Washington that has the loading docks facing the street, you know the one I'm talking about, has a plastic shed on the outside between two of the docks?  Ever notice how that building never actually has trucks in front of it in the daytime?  Sometimes at night, but the drivers never get out.  Someone unloads them from inside the building, no people are ever outside, during the whole process.

One day soon, Nigel, the police are going to go to that building, looking for drugs.  They won't find any, but what they DO find will be the scandal of the decade, and loads of people will think the people running that building are the BIG conspiracy (In fact, the people running the building DO think they're part of the BIG conspiracy)...But they're not.  It's awful and it's gruesome, but it's just another little consiracy, just another smile pile of bones.

Because Portland, like Tucson and New York and San Francisco and every other major city, is built on crime, on a foundation of bones of those who were murdered to make The City happen.  The principle difference is that New York and Tucson are comfortable with this, and San Francisco and Portland do everything they can to pretend it never happens/happened.  Just like they pretend that the tunnels under Portland are a myth, and that nobody ever disappears into them.

But of course they do, and some people in Portland think THAT is part of the BIG conspiracy.  But it isn't.  It's horrifying, and when the truth comes out the police and the National Guard will spend some time down there, and they won't be bringing prisoners up...No, they'll come up alone, and they'll all have FOIA documents they'll be forced to sign...Not really required, because they'll never talk about it and if they did, nobody would believe them...Just another broken cop drunkenly raving about some fantastical shit from a bad B movie.

There'll be rumors, of course, but they'll all be about aliens and monsters and shit, and the truth will be rather more prosaic (though just as grim), more like the results of a couple of bad decisions on the part of a certain pastor some 3 generations ago.  But that's not the point.  This event won't even be the result of a conspiracy, but of course some people will believe that it is.

Because the future isn't about conspiracies, Nigel, so much as it's about weird beliefs resulting in bad planning and small time criminal operations gone horribly, horribly wrong.  It's also about the same short-sighted thinking resulting in horrible, Godawful fuckups like the Deepwater Horizon and what's happening 40 feet below your streets.  The future isn't an explosion, but rather a slow burn, where fresh events are scrawled on horror's scrolls slowly enough that most people survive, but fast enough that the weirdness and horror are buried under the latest speculation on Lady Gaga's actual gender.

The people in charge, obviously, WANT you to believe in conspiracies, so that you don't pay attention to what's actually happening...Which, of course, is a conspiracy in itself.  Rabbit holes can be like that.

They have lied to us all, Nigel.

But I tell you The Truth.

That's what I do.

I am Doktor Howl.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEMsDPBoxvw

[A raid Friday by 120 police officers and soldiers netted the fiberglass sub as it was nearing completion in a clandestine "industrial complex" hidden in mangrove swamps near San Lorenzo, a town just south of the Colombian border.]

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-ecuador-narco-sub-20100706,0,162212.story

Ecuador police seize 100-foot narco-submarine being built secretly
The vessel is capable of carrying six people and 10 tons of cocaine on underwater voyages lasting up to 10 days, authorities say. Its discovery is a 'game changer' for U.S. drug interdiction efforts.

Reporting from Bogota, Colombia — Police in Ecuador seized a 100-foot submarine being built by suspected drug traffickers capable of carrying a crew of six and 10 tons of cocaine on underwater voyages lasting up to 10 days — a "game changer" for U.S. anti-drug and border security efforts, officials said Monday.

A raid Friday by 120 police officers and soldiers netted the fiberglass sub as it was nearing completion in a clandestine "industrial complex" hidden in mangrove swamps near San Lorenzo, a town just south of the Colombian border.

The craft was outfitted with a conning tower, a periscope, air conditioning and "scrubbers" to purify the air, and bunks for a maximum crew of six. But what set the craft apart from semi-submersible craft that drug traffickers have used for years was a complex ballast system that would have enabled it to dive as deep as 65 feet before surfacing.

more hilarity at link.

Yessir, that's a bunch of bad guys with a SECRET SUBMARINE MANUFACTURING BASE IN THE JUNGLE.

Hot damn!  It's 80 years overdue, but all my favorite pulp-genre themes are starting to come true!



Dok,
Is so fucking happy, he could plotz!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ruCmtbOZQg