GETTING THE COUNTRY OFF ITS KNEES - OR BACK ON THEM?
In the US, one of the options for dealing with the unemployed homeless is to ship them to California, preferably Santa Monica, where they may still be homeless, but they can at least look tanned and healthy.

But in Dresden, Germany, local businesswoman Silvia Rau has another option for keeping the unemployed off the street: subsidised sex. At the Villa Bijou brothel, showing your unemployment card will get you a 20% discount on services rendered. In the true spirit of humanity, the local prostitutes' union decided that one way of helping the "long-term unemployed out of their depression" is to offer discount doggy-style and concessionary copulation.

Rau is also hoping to reverse the flaccid number of clients frequenting her establishment. The average has drooped from 150 per month to only 80, so cut-price coitus is seen as a way of swelling those figures, thrusting forward with firmer customer numbers and rock-solid profitability.

Doubtless US lawmakers - and Nevada entrepreneurs - are looking at similar ways to arouse new business. If enough people were eligible for low-cost bonking, then the accompanying rise in support services could be immeasurable. Condom sales, lubricants, STD clinic out-patient fees, penicillin sales - the list is endless.

Kudos to Ms. Rau for coming up with such a spirited solution to the problem of unemployment.

99.9% ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH
Standing at the urinal, taking care of business, I noticed that the soap available for the post-urination ablutions confidently proclaimed it would kill 99.9% of all germs. That many, huh?

But it isn't those 99.9% that you have to worry about; it's the other 0.1% that live on. Think about it - you've managed to kill off the pathetically weak germs, living only the strong behind. And what do those strong germs then do? That's right: bonk themselves stupid to create new germs, some of which are now able to resist the 99.9% soap.

Over time, only those germs that are strong enough to resist the disinfectant and breed become the dominant germ species. Our 99.9% effectiveness crawls down to 90, then 80, then 70, until you might as well just wash your hands in your own urine.

We, the human race, are then faced with the task of creating new 99.9% solutions, which in turn produces a fresh batch of 0.1 germs that are even stronger. By acting as an agent of natural selection, we sow the seeds of our own pathogenic destruction. At some point, we'll face a germ that kills us all off. This is how the world ends; not with a bang but with a sneeze.

Of course, we may be lucky. The killer germ might only kill 99.9% of humanity, leaving a resistant 0.1% to begin the whole process over again.

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS
"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens." So what's so great about finding raindrops on roses? All that means is that the weather's too wet to lie outside in the sun. And what's so special about whiskers on kittens? Let's be honest, if you snipped off a cat's whiskers, would you notice? I think not.

No, for truly admirable, I recommend the dandelion. Yes, that ubiquitous yellow weed that infests the earth is surely a masterpiece of evolutionary design. The only sure way of clearing your garden of this wonderous flower is to use napalm and a small, tactical nuclear weapon. And even then, I'd be ready to do a final sweep with a couple of bottles of Round Up. Anyone who hasn't yet replaced their lawn with concrete is aware of the fact that no matter how hard it is to grow the plants you want, growing dandelions is a piece of cake.

Just look at the reproductive capacity of this amazing piece of flora. One dandelion head can give rise to around a hundred tiny seeds, each one designed to be wafted aloft by the breathe of a sparrow, with the ability to travel half way across the world - or at least the neighborhood. Despite the best efforts of mankind, the dandelion has managed to survive time and time again to become an awesomely ubiquitous plant.

And what about fleas? These little buggers are obviously one of mother nature's crown jewels. For every one you find, there has to be ninety-nine more of the bloodsucking bastards just waiting to swoop in and puncture your flesh. You can't catch 'em, squish 'em, or even poison them - they just keep coming back for more. If fleas had hands, they'd have their middle digits permanently erect. As with dandelions, nukes and napalm are your best bet.

Finally, don't forget the cockroach. Just as fleas are designed to be vertically flat so they can weave in and out of animal hairs, cockies are horizontally flat so they scuttle under chairs, floorboards, refrigerators, and beds. If you do manage to get one under your foot, the chances are that you end up spreading their little eggs around, thus ensuring the survival of yet another generation of the revolting little beasts.

You can keep your "bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens;" dandelions, cockroaches, and fleas - oh my!

KORAN ROLL: WHAT YOUR LEFT HAND'S FOR
You know the feeling: after a hard month of fasting, getting your bowels back into some type of regular schedule is a real pain. Hours of sitting on the porcelain altar trying to get things moving is cutting into prayer time. And if the toilet isn't facing Mecca... Well, we've all been there, right?

But help is at hand - literally! With new KORAN ROLL, from Infidelco, you can pass gas AND judgement at the same time. Each triple-ply super-soft sheet of KORAN ROLL is printed with an inspring, uplifting verse from the Koran, so you can pray while you stay.

Each random verse is guaranteed to have you submitting to the will of Allah with every wipe. Recall such timeles classics as "[39.53] Say: ...do not despair of the mercy of Allah; surely Allah forgives the faults altogether; surely He is the Forgiving the Merciful," a particularly useful verse to think on just before you kill an infidel. And who can forget "[3.178] And let not those who disbelieve think that Our granting them respite is better for their souls; We grant them respite only that they may add to their sins; and they shall have a disgraceful chastisement," just before going out and killing another infidel.

So, turn your "down time" into "up time" with prayer after prayer, meditation after meditation. Rather than thinking "who left that stain on the damn flooor?" try "[9.73] O Prophet! strive hard against the unbelievers and the hypocrites and be unyielding to them; and their abode is hell, and evil is the destination."

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! For added security, each sheet is printed with the words "wipe with left hand only" to ensure strict observation of protocol. And several sheets before the end, there's a special "Allah is coming - change the roll" reminder to ensure that no-one has to go without their daily dose of divinity.

Send checks and money orders for $10.00 per pack of six to Infidelco, PO Box 666, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

Coming soon: "Bible Roll" - with extra sheets for the Apochryphal texts!

NAZI PRINCE OR CLOWN PRINCE?
With an estimated 250,000 people dead after the tsunami in south-east asia, you have to be stunned by the amount of interest generated by an individual who dresses up as a Nazi at a costume party. Calls for censure, forced reparations, and public flogging not withstanding, this storm in a teacup is trivial beyond belief. It stands a good chance of becoming a texbook example of "Semiotics in Action:Conflicts between the Signifier and the Signified."

It's pretty clear to anyone with only half a brain that the hapless royal was indulging in joke. Admittedly for some it might seem to be in bad taste, but then who said humor can't be brutal. My guess is that at the same costume party there was at least one Napoleon, some Saddam Husseins, and a couple of Genghis Khans. All of these have been responsible for human tragedy, yet no word on anyone else at the party being pilloried by the press.

The whole point of a costume party, apart from getting roaring drunk and groping members of the opposite sex, is to dress up as figures of fun. Problems only arise when particular groups don't see the humor.

Chief Rabbi Dr Jonathan Sacks said: "This has offended members of the Jewish community and beyond. The wearing of a swastika was in extremely poor taste and I note that Prince Harry has recognised this." Really, Rabbi Sacks? And you are the arbiter of taste? Mel Gibson's Braveheart and The Patriot painted the Brits as bloodthirsty aggressors worthy of being castigated, yet I heard no public outcry about this. Until, of course, Mel brought out The Passion... and suddenly it was "anti-semitic" and once again the world had to be reminded of Nazi Germany and the suffering of the Jews.

Folks, we all know about the Holocaust, we all know the tragedy, and we all want to ensure it doesn't happen again. But when some kid dresses in a Nazi uniform for a party, it isn't the sign of the apocalypse and it doesn't herald the dawn of the Fourth Reich. Gee, I'm sorry some folks get offended by cynical humor, but that's just too bad - get over it.

And am I anti-semitic? Actually, I'm just misanthropic - I hate everyone! I'm anti folks who want to curtail freedom of speech and expression, regardless of their religion or politics. And telling me that dressing up as a Nazi is wrong is precisely that. What right has ANYONE to tell the Prince that he HAS to visit Auschwitz to atone for his behavior? I don't see folks screaming that George Bush should have to visit Abu Ghraib to see the effect his pre-emptive strike on Iraq has had on enemy combatants.

So just in case the press wants to follow ME for a story, at the next costume party I am invited to, I intend to dress as Mohammed, which should earn me the approbation of the Muslim community, and possibly a fatwah. Then I'll do the drunken Jesus act, just so I can also be hated by the Christian element too. By then, I will be labelled as anti-semitic, anti-muslim, and anti-christian, therefore becoming a pariah to the major faiths of the world.

Oh, and Buddha was just a big fat slob who talked in riddles because he was a cretin. Such a fine line between stupid and clever.

TIME TO TRADE IN THE MINIVAN, GUYS
It's a time-honored observation that the size of a man's car is inversely proportional to the size of his meat-and-two-veg. Good news for you mini cooper drivers. Of course, few researchers have tried to verify this lately: "Excuse me sir, would you mind helping in a survey by stepping out of your Ford Escort and flopping out your wedding tackle?"

However, the perverts who write for the German magazine, "Men's Car," did exactly that - or maybe something similar. They surveyed over 2000 men aged between 20 and 50 and asked them (a) what car they drove and (b) how frequently they had sex. Top of the list are BMW owners who manage a pulse-pounding 2.2 times per week, the 0.2 presumably a valiant attempt to reach three. Coming second (or at least twice) are Audi guys, slipping behind with an average 2.1.

Ford drivers came fourth at 1.7 and owners of Korean cars came last, managing a mere 1.5 times per week. Jeep drivers, my own mode of four-wheel transportation, didn't even score - which sounds about right!

Should you ladies feel neglected, bear in mind that French car drivers scored highest at 2.1, Audi drivers could get it on twice, and Porsche gals could only pop for 1.2 times.

But for me, even more interesting is the statistic that female BMW drivers have sex 1.9 times per week. Now, if they are asking couples who share a car, it seems that German men are having sex 0.3 times per week NOT with their spouses. Whether this is because they are (a) having an affair or (b) flying solo remains unanswered.

Of course, for those of you reading this who are thinking "damn, if I could get it 0.3 times per week on average I'd be happy," it may be that the only thing this survey tells us is that German men exaggerate and lie.

YOU DID SAY YOU WANTED IT FRESH, YES?
It seems that air travel is fraught with danger these days - and not only from terrorists. It appears that a new source of horror should be added to the traveler's list: whistling tree frogs.

On a routine flight between Melbourne, Australia, and Wellington, New Zealand, a Qantas airlines passenger was handed her special order salad - only to find that it was NOT the vegetarian option she was expecting. Lurking behind the lettuce was a small and uninvited whistling tree frog. And no doubt in keeping with a Qantas policy of delivering food that's as fresh as possible, the aforementioned amphibian was not even dead. Holy slimy sushi, Batman!

Before the hapless hopper could do any serious damage - such as leaping out of the box, gunning down a few passengers, and forcing the pilots to take the plane to Cuba - the quick-thinking passenger slammed the lid back down and alerted the flight attendents.

Thanks to intensive training in counter terrorism, the attendents ensured that the frog was speedily hustled into a refrigerator and, alas, subjected to a slow death by freezing. PETA should take note of this egregious act of barbarism against an innocent animal.

Once the plane had landed, a Qantas SWAT team apparantly swept through the airplane to round up any other members of the "Tree Frog Liberation Army," but none was found. Thankfully this appears to be a lone whistler, working in isolation, and as yet, no links to Al Qa'ida have been found.

A spokesman for the airline said that they had changed supplier in February. Perhaps the new supplier is the same one that supplies Air France, where frogs in your salad are standard and passengers complain if they don't find one.

Oh, and the report didn't note whether the box came marked as "Atkins Friendly," which I'm sure a whisting tree frog is - so long as you avoid the dressing.

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OH THE PAIN! PASS THE OXYCONTIN
Has anyone noticed that since Rush Limbaugh came out with regard to his "addiction to prescription drugs" that he seems to have changed his notion of drug abuser? There's a hint of compassion towards the folks who were previously just left-wing junky whackos who should be put against a wall and shot before they start mugging old people, molesting children, and eating babies.

Now the prosecutors in the case against him for allegedly obtaining drugs illegally are seeking access to his private medical records. And guess who is leaping to Rush's defense? Yes, none other than the scourge of decent, honest, god-fearing republicans - the American Civil Liberties Union. The very group whom Rush regularly pillories as nothing more than the agents of the Beast, here to bring the Apocalyspe and the End of Civilization as we know it, is standing up for Limbaugh's right to privacy.

They see the prosecution's case as stepping far beyond what is constitutional and will defend Rush in his attempt to keep his records secret.

I'm not one to crow, dear reader, but the expression "grinning like a Cheshire cat" springs to mind when I try to describe how I feel. I look forward to future EIB broadcasts when Rush has to acknowledge a debt toward the legions of Hell.

TRUTH IN ADVERTISING
In the somewhat successful attempt to circumvent spam checkers and simple filtering, spammers are pretty good at using mis-spellings that can be easily recognized and corrected by humans, but present real challenges to computers. Instead of using "Viagra," "Hot Stock Tip," and "Donkey Sex," suitable alternatives include "V-Y-aggra," "h0t st0k t1p" and "Sex with donkeys." OK, so maybe the latter wouldn't work, but you, dear reader, can work out an alternative for yourself.

But hurrah, hurrah! It seems like "Truth in Advertising" may be making a come-back. This morning I found an e-mail headed "would you like a larger penis?" from someone called "penisdoctor." Well, I almost fell over my crates of Viagra and donkey sex video pile. At last, someone with the guts to be honest. Make no mistake, when you get a letter from someone called "penisdoctor," you can be pretty damn sure he ain't selling flowers!

So now I look forward to future posts along the lines of "wanthugetits" from "missbigboobs," "cheapbutdefinitelyNOTstolenviagra" from "sexdrugseller," and "seemypicturesofhotdonkeys" from "donkey bonker."

HONDA ELEMENT: UGLIEST CAR ON THE PLANET (AFTER MY TRUCK)?
Whatever were the designers at Honda doing when they decided to build the Element? Did the team spend their days drinking monshine just to take the edge off? Or did they want to see if they could pull off the biggest practical joke since the moon landings (what - you really believe they happened?)

Honestly, the sales folks at Honda deserve bonuses for having the chutzpah to convince ANYONE to buy one of these things.

"Oh yes, sir, you'll find that all the Hollywood stars are driving these. Next to his Hummer, it's Arnold's favorite!"

"Of course, only people with a sense of style realize that this is an avant-garde design that is sure to be seen as a classic in the future."

"The Element is designed to be the most functional car in the world."

Functional my arse! It's downright ugly and an affront to the eyes. One friend of mine tried to convince me that it has been designed to be the easiest car to clean internally. Well whoop-tee-doo! Personally, filling the thing with garbage would be an improvement.
Maybe that stumpy, box-like shape makes it easier to dispose of using a car-crusher. Perhaps the squareness means you can put spots on each face and use it as a giant dice by hitting it repeatedly by a few 40 ton trucks. Who knows?

As this is before we even THINK about the totally uninspired color choices. But even if you went for a yellow-and-peach custom design, it would still remain a disaster of a car, a tribute to the insane triumph of function over form.

So if you disagree, just go right ahead and buy the damn thing. But don't come whining when you try to trade it in after a couple of months and your Honda dealer says "You've got a what?" and falls over in hysterics.

I REALLY WANT TO HELP WITH YOUR OIL MONEY - HONEST
Here's an open message to Mrs. Loi E. Estrada, Kofo Williams, and Mrs. M Mobuto Sese-Seko: Look, I appreciate you have to go through life with ridiculous names, but if you really want me to help you shift $13,000,000 million, $10Million, and $18,000,000,000 respectively, you have to meet me at least half way and ANSWER MY FRICKIN' EMAILS!

I mean, how stupid do you have to be to send me an offer to make money and then NOT give me any way of contacting you. What is this? Do you all have heads shaped like novelty penises? Each time I hit the "reply" button, I get an error message. Here I am with money to contribute and you won't let me.

I am willing to sell my house, possessions, and children into slavery - just give me somewhere to contact you. It isn't difficult - not even for someone with a stupid name.

QUEER EYE FOR THE LEADERSHIP GUY!!

Harper-Collins Press Release
=====================

Business on the slide? Employees leaving? Creditors knocking at the door? Then it's time for a BIG change in your Leadership Style. And when it comes to Style, who better to help than Kyan Douglas, Ted Allen, Carsen Kressley, Jai Rodriguez, and Thom Filicia - The Fab Five themselves!

Yes, it's time to throw out "Leadership Secrets of Attilla the Hun / Winnie the Pooh / Warren Buffet / any-old-name-that-sounds-catchy" and get hold of the indispensable - and stylish - "Queer Eye for the Leadership Guy!!!"

Available in one of five groovy colors, "Leadership Guy" recognizes the Real Truth - you CAN'T learn to be a Leader but you CAN DRESS THE PART! And dressing the part will help you score big time with bankers, venture capitalists, P.R. folks, AND CHICKS!

With more flash than Macromedia and more trumped up than Donald, the Fab Five set out to turn YOU into that cool, sophisticated, but definitely NOT GAY leader you've always wanted to be. NO more overhearing "You mean THAT schlub is the President?" or "Sorry, I thought you were the janitor." Now it's "Hey dude, looking sharper than a razor today" and "Oooh boss, you mean I can really touch those silky new boxer briefs?"

Yes, "Leadership Guy" will turn your world around and turn you're management appeal up to eleven!!!

Hot Leadership Tips include:

• Kyan's "How to fire poor employees yet keep your hair from loosing its natural bounce!"


• Ted's "Negotiating a new deal with you major suppliers and which loafers NOT to wear!"


• Jai's "Win that new bank loan with the RIGHT cologne"


• Carsen's "Motivate your employees with khaki!"


• Thom's "Enhance your new products by color-contrast with corporate apparel."

So log on TODAY to www.harpercollins.com/queerleader.html and get your pre-release copy for only $29.99 - and choose one of five limited edition covers, each with a different "Fab" guy!!

With so many exclamation points and upper case letters, you just KNOW it's got to be good!!!!!!

WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING?
So it has to be almost two weeks since my last scrivening. That's bad. I find it fascinating that there are folks who can sit down at the end of each day and write about what has happened - and continue to do this for years. Me? I find it hard to write my signature on the bottom of a credit card receipt. Of course, that might be more of a psychological issue with me not really wanting to pay.

My excuse is that I spent a week in Southern California where I had no Internet access, and then spent the following week catching up with the things I didn't do the week prior. Pretty pathetic, eh? Then my home town was hit by a tornado - even my mother back in England heard about it on the TV news and called to see if I was wearing my ruby slippers.

Over the weekend, I did bugger all. Sod all. I longed around reading books, finishing two and starting on another. Of course, for some folks, that's actually productive, but for me, reading is something I consider to be a substitute for doing something "real," whatever that may be.

And it's too cold for the motorcycle. Maybe. I keep looking at it in the garage and then outside, wondering which cruel God brought me to Ohio instead of California. Ah well, onwards to work.

SO WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO IN NORWAY?
Last week, I had the pleasure of introducing two new Norwegian colleagues to a form of dining with which they had not been acquainted - beer and wings at Hooters. Along with two other of my work friends, we took them to the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minneapolis, to experience the delights of this chicken and ale emporium. With it being a Friday night AND the third game in the World Series, the idea of taking them to Hooters seemed like a bit of a no brainer.

To enhance their enjoyment, our hostess was also in the 2004 calendar, a golden opportunity for our norwegian chums to (a) purchase a calendar, (b) get it personally signed, and (c) have a photo taken with our pneumatic and charming waitress.

Now, least I be accused of sexism and corruption, I should point out that according to our friends, there is no Hooters in Norway, nor is there anything like it. In fact, one of the things Norwegians apparently like to do for fun is stand around in the freezing cold for weeks, waiting for a movie.

According to the norwegian paper, Aftenposten, 144 fans, dressed as Tolkien creatures such as hobbits, elves and orcs, have been queuing outside the Colosseum Cinema in Oslo for three weeks, waiting to buy tickets.

According to Anette Hellaa Christiansen, who was number seven in the queue, "This is so social, so pleasant. Many from last year's queue have moved in together. Eccentrics have to stick together."

Right. Either that or open a Hooters and sit in the heat, for goodness sake!

RELIGIOUS FREEDOM EXTENDS TO WITCHES, OF COURSE
In the US, there is a little piece of paper called the Constitution, which was written hundreds of years ago with a view to making life easier for folks. In it, there is a general principal stating that the state should have no role in promoting any specific religion, be that Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or the Third Reformed Church of the Second Coming of the Fifth Prophet.

Putting aside George W. Bush's faith-based initiative that supplies money to religious groups doing charitable works, it works pretty well most of the time. Occasionally, some right-wing religious zealot decides it's OK to drop a two-ton piece of rock with the ten commandments on slap bang in his court room. But despite the protestations of fellow zealots, who feel that this is in no way unconstitutional, the state did in fact have the thing removed.

However, life is a little different in Norway, where not only do they not have any Hooters bars, but also no qualms about government funding for religions. And they are so open that Lena Skarning, owner of Forest Witch Magic Consultant has received a grant of over $7,000 as a business start-up grant.

She intends to use the subsidy to help her tell fortunes from Tarot cards, teach magic tricks at corporate seminars, and develop products like magical bath oil, water potions or face creams meant to help users have clearer dreams at night. As part of the deal, she has had to promise not to use her powers for evil - like cold-calling potential Tarot customers or developing a grating West Indian accent.

So if you're a budding Satanist needing a little extra cash for those baby sacrifices (and we know babies don't come cheap) why not emigrate to Norway where you can apply for state funding?

Of course, if you're a really good magician, maybe you could just conjure up some cash?

AT LEAST AIR IS FREE, YES?
I am always fascinated by the most trivial things. For example, I just received a parcel that contained a large folder, protected by a number of index-card-sized bags of air. What really interests me is just the thought that someone, somewhere, actually sat down and thought "Hey, maybe I could make a small bag filled with air and sell it to make money."

Within minutes of receiving the package, I was at the home page for Sealed Air, a company that makes such products. Here, you can buy bucketloads of products that involve packaging and air, from bubble-wrap to Jiffy mailers. Amazing! I mean, there's a whole new world of stuff that I knew nothing about.

It seems that I can buy a machine that makes these bags as I need them. The bags themselves come on a roll - a bit like toilet tissue - and you run them through big rollers, which then inflates them with air.

Using this type of air bag approach saves wastage. Imagine using those Styrofoam "peanut" to pack things and then estimate the space they take up. When you unpack, you have to dispose of these somehow, but their mass remains. However, with the air bags, popping them releases the air and results in less mass to be disposed of.

But wait - there's more! If you are truly on the green kick, you can actually recycle the bags at special "Sealed Air©" facilities, thus doing your bit for the environment.

Now this idea has to rank up there with the "Why-don't-I-put-plain-water-in-a-bottle-and-charge-more-than-gasoline-for-it" idea. Having folks pay for air - it's simply brilliant!

Alas, I've missed the inventing boat with this one. Like most people, I will just have to be content with dreaming about making that one-special-thing that everyone needs, is simple to make, but for which I can charge lots of money.

GHETTOPOLY: OUTRAGEOUS, SARCASTIC, HYPERBOLIC, AND FUNNY
Last week, before the game hit the national TV networks, I discovered Ghettopoly. At the official web site (http://www.ghettopoly.com) I found details and pictures, which, I freely admit, had me laughing. Here is a game that uses sarcasm, hyperbole, and stereotypes to blast away at the images of ghetto subculture perpetually portrayed by urban black hip-hopsters, gangstas, rappers, and anyone else. In fact, when interviewed, the author, David Chang, said he wrote it after watching 2 months of MTV videos.

However, it seems that not everyone has the same sense of humor. Although the game appears to have been shipping since at least July, the proverbial shit hit the fan this weekend with each cable new network trying to find as many folks as possible to slam it as racist, offensive etc. But dissection of the game reveals that there is nothing being parodied that hasn't already been around for years in the Rap and Hip-Hop MTV culture.

Game pieces include a cannabis leaf, a pimp, a ho, a bag of crack, and other assorted items. So what was Jay-Z singing about on "Big Pimpin?" And what's Lil' Kim singing about when she says "lick my crack." Sorry if you're offended, but you only have to listen to one Lil' Kim track to realize where SHE'S coming from!

Biggie smells and Tupac Shakur are dead rappers, murdered (allegedly) by gang rivalry in a world wear guns, drugs, bling-bling, and girls are seen as marks of status. Thanks to the MTV culture, these guys are now portrayed as folk heroes - not thugs - with movies, documentaries, and induction to the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame to back up the mythology. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

MTV Cribs is a show that allows stars to brag/gloat about their possessions - how big their crib is, how many rooms, how much it all cost, how many cars they have - and all thanks to the record-buying public. This blatant display of excess hasn't been seen since the "Greed Is Good" days of the 80's, yet here it is again and now it's OK because it's urban rappers from the 'Hood. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

Lil' Kim sings about sex, sex, and more sex, in multiple positions with multiple partners, trying to make it sound like it's OK as long as she is in charge - hey, she's calling the shots so it's OK to behave like this. And Ghettopoly is offensive?

Folks, if rappers want stuff, Lil' Kim wants to sleep around, MTVs want to show cribs, and Shaggy wants to be having sex with a woman "buck naked on the kitchen floor," that's OK by me. But if that's OK for them, stop whining about a game that mocks the very stereotypes they reinforce and get a life. Ghettopoly is NOT reinforcing racist attitudes; it is clearly parodying them as seen through the eyes of how ghetto life is portrayed on television - and much of that coming from the very folks who are complaining.

David Chang has been subjected to a barrage of complaints from professional talking heads to the point that he's probably scared. On Fox TV, he was asked over the phone why he didn't come into the studio to debate the game with an NAACP official and the Fox teams folks. The implication here was that when Fox says jump, you jump, and folks who don't must have something to hide. But maybe, just maybe, he's afraid of the media circus, where the professional pundits would eat him alive and laugh as he crumbled.

And a final twist: as I write, the Ghettopoly site is no longer available. Freedom of Speech? What's that?

SUNDAY WORSHIP - OR NOT
The good Lord enjoins us all to rest on Sunday - unless you're not a Christian, in which case your good Lord suggests another day. This, I believe, actually came about when the various good Lords worked out that if they all have their day of rest concomitantly, everyone would do bugger all and the world would go to hell in a hand basket. This would, of course, please all the bad Lords, but they didn't get a say. So, by agreeing to stagger the days of rest, the gods ensured that someone would be around to make coffee, pump gas, blow up a suicide bomb etc.

This preamble is merely to explain why there is no Sunday posting. My personal religion demands that I worship first at the church of Morpheus and not get out of bed until late, then I stop by the church of Bacchus for something to eat and drink, and finally I make an effort to worship at the church of Triumph by getting on my 2003 Triumph Bonneville America motorcycle to cruise the highways. Such is my spiritual Sunday.

You may have noticed that my typical Sunday varies from other people's, particularly in my neck of the woods where we have a population of 25,000 people and around 30 churches. By my reckoning, that's an average of less than 850 members per church. Doubtless some churches do better than others at attracting the faithful, so the numbers can vary about a mean.

What is even more interesting is that the overwhelming majority of these churches are of a Christian flavor, but each has it's own unique interpretation of the best way to serve the Lord. It's always puzzled me that if the Bible is supposed to be the Word of God, the messages contained therein are far from clear. The notion that "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light" turns out to be a little vague in that each church seems to have a different version of the way, the Truth, and the Light. More entertaining still is that all claim to have the "real" interpretation.

Now, logic tells me that they can't ALL be right. Some have to be wrong. But that doesn't seem to bother folks. I guess as long as they make their Sunday pilgrimage to the hall of worship of their choice and continue to believe they are on the right track, then all is well with the world.

And once everyone is happily wrapped in that early morning aura of brotherly love, I have the roads to myself. That has to be a good thing.

MONTECORE TIGER'S JUST A BIG PUSSY CAT
It has to be one one of the most inaccurate descriptions of the week. Steve Wynn, former chairman and CEO of the Mirage in Vegas, said of the tiger that attacked Roy Horn that "(T)here wasn't a speck of violence in anything that Montecore did." Now considering the tiger damn near RIPPED ROY'S THROAT OUT, I'd like to propose that we begin recognizing this sort of behavior as violent. The 600lb killing machine also dragged him off the stage, leaving him in critical condition in hospital after loosing more blood than you can see in a Quentin Tarantino movie.

Just like our brainless bear-hugger from a couple of days ago, Steve appears to have missed the point that lions and tigers and bears (oh my) are wild animals and, as such, prone to being somewhat less that cute and cuddly. The reason they are blessed with sharp teeth and retractable claws is not so they can appear in Disney movies doing a song-and-dance with Mowgli the Jungle Boy.

So, the Bystander's safety tip of the week is as follows: if it bigger, heavier, and hairier than you, do NOT try to hug, kiss, smack-with-a-microphone, or in any way interact with it at close range. Otherwise you are very likely to find yourself being fitted for wings.