alk about appalling:

     Ohio Teacher Burned Cross On Kids’ Arms
     A public school teacher preached his Christian beliefs despite complaints by other teachers and administrators and used a device to burn the image of a cross on students’ arms, according to a report by independent investigators.
     Mount Vernon Middle School teacher John Freshwater also taught creationism in his science class and was insubordinate in failing to remove a Bible and other religious materials from his classroom, the report said.
     School board members were scheduled to meet Friday afternoon to discuss the findings by consulting firm H.R. On Call Inc., hired by the district to investigate. The report was released Thursday.

     Holy fucking shit! I mean — Jesus! Burning crosses on his students’ arms?! Shit! I’m . . . I’m fucking speechless. I cannot imagine the atrocities I would inflict on a school system that allowed that to happen to my kid. Oh, and here’s the money shot: “With the exception of the cross-burning episode … I believe John Freshwater is teaching the values of the parents in the Mount Vernon school district.” [Freshwater’s friend Dave Daubenmire, defending Freshwater]
     According to the article, the district officials had been fielding complaints about this Freshwater guy for eleven years. He’s preaching in class, was teaching creationism in a public school system, had Bibles and shit all over the place, and he was burning crosses into kids’ arms! Okay, okay, for you fundies out there who may not actually be able to see what’s wrong with this picture, replace all the Jesus, creationism, Bible, crosses, etc, with Nazis, Aryan race, Mien Kampf, and swastikas. Now do you see what the problem is?
     I’m fucking agog with disbelief. I mean, people must have realized this guy was a little nutty, right? And they let him keep teaching. I mean, you don’t just up and decide to start branding your students one morning after breakfast. You have to work up to it, starting with smaller psychosis, first. They had to have been able to tell the dude wasn’t right.
     What the hell is going on in our schools, for fucksake? And isn’t it about time we start paying more attention?

     (Photo credit: Cross-shaped Burn.)

      must own this — Knight Rider GPS:

     When we were first contacted by Mio about their Knight Rider device, we couldn’t wait till the day that we could finally tell you. An officially licensed GPS unit with the original voice of KITT behind it, how could you lose?
     Thankfully, you can’t! We have been very fortunate to get this exclusive extensive look at the Mio Knight Rider GPS. No longer will you have a boring list of computerized voices telling you directions on your GPS - now you can have KITT himself!
     It’s the first time since the TV Movie Knight Rider 2000 - has William Daniels been involved in anything officially Knight Rider. In fact it had been rumored for quite some time that Daniels wanted nothing to do with the series. We are thrilled that this was not the case, and now we have this device here, complete with newly recorded dialog by Mr. Daniels (this isn’t reused TV clipings, it’s 100% original recordings!)

     o, last year, the Good Doctor had been coming to visit quite a lot, and of the many things we talked about, one of the things he consistently raved about was this show on the WB, Supernatural. He went on about it so much, I finally tracked it down to watch it. I started reviewing it here, actually.
     I watched the first episode and enjoyed it, and several days later, went to watch the second episode, about a Wendigo, and it was just not good. Cheesy, kind of lame, the acting was bad . . . I stopped in the middle and wandered off. A couple of weeks went by, and I had a rough day at work, came home tired and brain dead, made some dinner, and decided I wasn’t up for much more than some stupid TV. So I popped Supernatural back in. The Wendigo was still kind of dumb, but I was pretty brain dead, and not yet ready to sleep, so I watched the third episode.
     I ended up staying up all night, watching episodes.

Spoiler Alert! Thar Be Spoilers Ahead!

     It turned out there was a pattern to the episodes. It ran in threes. The first one would be kind of “meh”, not bad, the second one would be nothing special, or possibly down-right bad, and then the third one would be fucking-A creepy. Well, of course, having an over-active imagination that is naturally inclined towards horror shows, I can’t go to bed after watching some fucking-A creepy, so I’d have to stay up to watch another, then another, then another creepy one, and then it would start all over again. Dammit.
     The first season was not great. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly fantastic TV, either. But, it was just good enough to get me interested. The stand-out episode of the first season was Asylum, a take-off of Silent Hill. The first season didn’t have much of an effects budget to work with, but they really did well with what they had to work with in this episode. The entire sound track is done in B-flat (also known as “the key of creepy”), and there were some really good “gotcha” moments. Also, haunted insane asylum, yo. They did well.
     The premise of the first season is that the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean, are searching for their missing father, while hunting down the “yellow-eyed demon” who killed their mother and set their family on the monster-hunting path. It ends on a cliff-hanger, of course, so I had to get the second season from my dishwasher at work.
     The first season rated about a “C” in my book. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad, either. The guys playing the brothers, Jared Padalecki and Jenson Ackles are just good enough actors, in the first season, to keep you into their roles. They really excel in their dynamic as brothers — they have some good screen chemistry together, and they’re at their best in the scenes where they’re just being brothers together. Also, they’re both cute as a button, and that really helps when the acting is sucking. I mean, if all else fails, there’s eye candy.
     In season two, the show gets a decent effects budget, and they put it to good use. The actors start coming into their own, and the writing gets better. Season two was actually good enough to keep me stuck to the couch for most of a weekend, scarfing popcorn and watching TV. The show wavers between cheesy and creepy and comedy, occasionally all in the same episode, and they do it well. The plot starts kicking along quite well. The brothers located their father at the end of season one, and he dies in the season 2 premiere. Season two is dedicated to carrying on in their father’s footsteps, hunting the yellow-eyed demon. Along the way, Dean and Sam discover more about Sam’s role in the demon’s apocalyptic plot, and at the end, they finally kill the yellow-eyed demon, but not without paying a steep price. Sam died in an episode, and Dean sold his soul to bring him back to life. If that wasn’t bad enough, they also fuck up while killing the yellow-eyed demon and open a Hell Gate, letting loose a few hundred of Hell’s baddest demons. We end season two unsure if what Dean brought back to life is 100% Sam Winchester, Dean having one year to live before being carted off to Hell, and Armageddon gearing up for the final show-down.
     Season three has been fantastic. I’m about to run out of episodes, and I have to say, I’m not amused. Over-all, the show has been pretty damn good. There are moments where the show approaches true greatness, and moments where they’re playing it strictly for laughs, and doing it well. There’s a fairly high cheese-factor, but even that is well-done, and it’s the sort of cheese that’s fun to watch, not the kind that hurts. Heh. One of the stand-out episodes has been season three’s Mystery Spot, which is a riff on the old movie with Bill Murray, Groundhog Day. Sam has to live the same day over and over again, each day watching his brother die. It’s funny — particularly some of the scenes where Dean bites it — but at the same time, horrifying. You’re giggling and watching Sam hang on to sanity by his fingernails. By the end of the episode, it’s just . . . awful, watching what Sam turns into without his brother around. All I’m gonna say is you gotta watch out for those sweet, quiet guys like Sam, because when they finally man up, they turn fucking scary.
     Over all, Supernatural is rating a solid “A” for me. It’s been a great show, and in season three, the acting, writing, and effects have really gotten good. I’m hooked. The show is like crack, at this point, and I’d reccomend it to anyone. I think one of the reasons why I really enjoy this show is because it reminds me so much of gaming with MrJames as the games master. You win, but no win comes without a serious fucking attached to it. It’s an eerie enough resemblance to a MrJames White Wolf game that I’m tempted to ask him if he’s been moonlighting writing for the show. (That’s nothing but a compliment, MrJames, seriously.)
     So, in the end, go forth, locate the show, get some popcorn, and watch it. The first season is a bit of a struggle, and there are some rough moments in season two, but it’s well worth looking past the rough spots to the gem underneath.

     ETA: I just finished watching the season finale, and, um, damn. Yep. I am now convinced that MrJames is, at the very least, consulting for the show, because they totally stole his plot for the Giovanni Chronicles. Hey, Jim — remember what Vayle did to Johann? *shudders*

     (Photo credit: Supernatural Wallpaper.)

     ust a quick post to point out a fantastic blog post I just found on StumbleUpon, here:

Ten Tips For Writing Horror
1) Drink.
It was good enough for Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King, but somehow you’re too good for the bottom of a bottle? Amateur.

2) Claws and Tentacles.
Or better yet, claws WITH tentacles. No, wait, that’s backwards…

     Also, another Blue Man video — “I Feel Love” with Venus Hum on vocals:

usy, Busy, Busy. Oh, and Some Tears — Mr. James

     Eva ran back to the trailer she shared with Becky and slammed the door shut. She threw the deadbolt, too, and gasped in the hot, dark space inside. Sunbeams filtered through the gingham curtains Becky had hung, dust motes adrift in the light looking beautiful and normal, as though the world hadn’t just been turned on its ear. She wheezed, breathing in the comforting smell of fresh laundry, the perfumes on her nightstand and the lingering aroma of clove cigarettes from the trailer’s previous tenants.
     She’d been working with Ania for… Wait. How long had it been?
     There was a smattering of hand-me-down furniture in the trailer, a few pieces from her apartment in Concord. Nothing of Becky’s, of course. The girl had only brought a pair of suitcases with her back when she’d moved in… And when was that, exactly?
     Eva realized that she couldn’t remember how long she’d been in the Carnival. It seemed like a long time - she knew the people, and had seen a handful of cities come and go… but she couldn’t remember packing up the carnival and moving. Not once. She glanced at her nightstand, the ornate wrought-iron and copper piece she’d bought for a tenth of its value at the auction in New Orleans, and couldn’t remember packing it or moving it here. But there it was, her makeup and scents and such arrayed neatly in front of the age-speckled mirror, which was sporting just a touch of dust around the frame, as though it had stood there for weeks, or more.

Dirty Jobs — Drgnwvr

     Mr. Weaver scowled at Mr. James’ back as he left his workshop. He distrusted those that had too much knowledge. They tended to forget to listen to their gut. His frown turned upside-down as he wondered what his own gut was trying to tell him. Hungry? No. Problems with the rides? No. The back of his hand itched. He idly scratched it as he took survey of his domain.
     Workbench was tidy. His chest of drawers was correctly inventoried and in place. He scratched the back of his hand harder, becoming irritated at himself. The garbage bags. There was still a bag of body parts that hadn’t been taken to whatever carnivorous denizen of the Carnival it was destined to feed.
     ”Prime!” Nothing. “Optimus Prime!” Still nothing. Weaver put his hands on his hips, and felt something drip down his itchy hand. He looked at it, or rather, the clawed-up remains of what had once been a tattoo. It looked like an animal had torn it apart. He looked at the tips of his other hand’s fingers. Normal nails, albeit dirtied with grease.
     ”Oh no.”

Dead Men’s Pockets — JavaElemental

     Alice knew a shitstorm coming when she saw one. She’d gotten pretty familiar with the warning signs over the years. Despite her best efforts, shitstorms were often the result of her presence. That’s what comes of having an elemental fiend of chaos in place of a soul.
     It had seemed so straight forward when she planned it out. Junior had found itself a good feeding ground, and it happened to be a magic carnival, and that wasn’t so surprising, because the damn things were a dime a dozen. She’d introduce herself to the critter in charge, because it was almost never just a man or woman, apply some persuasion, possibly some funds, whatever was necessary, and then she could get on with the hunt.
     Here was a man in charge, and she couldn’t even get two words in edgewise. She’d explained how she’d gotten the ticket, and really, was it so damn strange that she’d looted it off a dead body? That’s what dead bodies were for, right? Find a dead body, go through the pockets, standard operating procedure. Dead men had all kinds of interesting things in their pockets. This had turned to an accusation from the man in the godless jacket – Stevens – aimed at the ticket booth operator – Dav, apparently – that a stolen ticket should not have been honored, and that wasn’t fair, because it wasn’t really stealing when you were taking it from someone who couldn’t use it anymore, was it?

The End of Sheila’s Story. The Beginning of the Sinister Saint — Mr. James

     Sheila didn’t fall, so much as the ground itself closed over her body like a great fist, and squeezed. It pulled her down, as sudden and swift and gentle as an avalanche, and she plummeted into darkness, the crushing stone and earth bearing down on her from every direction.
     She felt bones breaking, lots of them. Something hard hit her in the face, and she swallowed gravel mixed with broken teeth. Her hair was pulled, and her scalp tore free with a sucking sound she could feel in her whole body. Sheila fell, faster and faster, the vertigo and the weightless sensation in her stomach her only points of reference in this dark hell of pain and pressure. The descent lasted hours, the crushing grind of the earth interspersed with horrendous falls through black caverns, where Sheila would slam against the floor without warning only to have it swallow her again. Deeper and deeper, and always the stones cutting, smashing, pulverizing her as she went.

Madness — JavaElemental

     “Huston, we have a problem.” Alice stood there, smoking a cigarette. The clown was standing a little near for comfort, glaring down at her. The Shadow had pried Herself up from the ground and was hovering over the corpse, up to Her black shoulder in the corpse’s mouth, rooting around in the innards.
     Alice glanced over at the clown. “We need to destroy this body. And with a quickness.”
     Clay grunted. “We got people for that. Come on.”
     Alice plugged her cigarette between her lips and snapped her fingers. The Shadow pulled free of the corpse and flopped back into place on the ground. Alice drew the cigarette from her lips and breathed out a long plume of smoke. “Lead on.”

     omic Pioneer George Carlin Dies at 71:

     George Carlin, an extraordinary standup comedian whose dark social satire won him multigenerational popularity and a starring role in the most famous broadcast obscenity case of modern times, died Sunday of heart failure in Los Angeles. He was 71.
     The Manhattan-born comedian, who always said his often-cynical satire simply reflected his real-life disdain for mankind’s greed, stupidity and inconsideration, had a history of heart problems. He also did a stint in rehab in 2003 for drug dependency.
     The TV network Comedy Central in 2004 named him the second best standup comedian of all time, behind Richard Pryor.

     Goddamn, I’ll miss George. He was fucking brilliant.

     ocuments Confirm U.S. Hid Detainees From Red Cross:

     The U.S. military hid the locations of suspected terrorist detainees and concealed harsh treatment to avoid the scrutiny of the International Committee of the Red Cross, according to documents that a Senate committee released Tuesday.
     ”We may need to curb the harsher operations while ICRC is around. It is better not to expose them to any controversial techniques,” Lt. Col. Diane Beaver, a military lawyer who’s since retired, said during an October 2002 meeting at the Guantanamo Bay prison to discuss employing interrogation techniques that some have equated with torture. Her comments were recorded in minutes of the meeting that were made public Tuesday. At that same meeting, Beaver also appeared to confirm that U.S. officials at another detention facility — Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan — were using sleep deprivation to “break” detainees well before then-Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld approved that technique. “True, but officially it is not happening,” she is quoted as having said.

     Seriously. How much more proof do you people need? Who do I have to fuck around here to get some assholes put in jail? I mean, “controversial techniques”? How about “illegal shit we don’t want anyone to catch us doing”? Wouldn’t that be a more honest way to put things? If it wasn’t illegal, why’d they have to hide the “detainees”? “Controversial” is Britany Spears flashing her beaver at the paparazzi by accident, not hiding the POWs you’ve been torturing from the Red Cross when they come through.
     I just can’t believe it. We’ve caught this administration red-handed more times than I can count doing illegal crap, and we’re going to let them get away with it. It makes me ill. Every time I find something like this, I’m left bug-eyed and shaking my head, completely mentally clusterfucked at the concept of the American people letting their government get away with this shit. I am agog with horror that this goes on, and Americans, who are not supposed to tolerate this sort of behavior from their government, are simply sitting at home watching the TV and worrying about the polar bears. Pitchforks and torches, people! Actually, we are well past the pitchfork and torch phase, here.
     I’m struck speechless.

     (Poster courtesy of the Parody Motivator, photo from here. Click the poster to enlarge it.)

Barack Obama Bollywood-style:

     he Carnival’s been getting busy again. When we last left our intrepid adventurers, we’d just finished Tales of Delgato, Alice had been in a fight with Tiffany and Ania, Todd the Apocalypse had crash-landed in the Carnival’s underside while Duxtor the Scribe learned of the Sinister Saint, Thunk got a new arm, Becky developed a crush, and Dr. Celestine came up with a plan to deal with the mess in the parking lot. Here’s what you’ve missed since then:

Conning the Rubes — JavaElemental

     The cops and the firemen were amazed. They stood around, shining with their amazement. There were a couple of photographers from the local newspaper, too. The photographers took pictures, and the cops took notes and scratched their heads a lot, and Stevens stood around, jacket aglow with color, and generally made himself available to answer questions.
     The good Doctor stood well back in the shadows of his carnival and giggled to himself. He had one hand over his mouth to keep the sound stifled. The show would be spoiled if the cops caught him back stage, as it were, giggling at them.
     Right on cue, B.B. sidled up next to Stevens and said, sotto voce, “Hey boss, they going to let us keep that thing?”

Untitled — Aniasch

     She could feel herself being lifted, carried. The pain consumed her mind as her body had already begun to mend itself, slowly. She opened her eyes to see who was carrying her, but no one was above her. She turned her head to look below and saw the ground moving beneath her, past the grass, dirt, and blood. Blood… She grabbed out at it scooping it up shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled in extacy of it.
     She started to mutter, her mouth full, “something for the pain, something for the pain, something for him, something for the pain, for the pain.” It continued in repeats past the floating pieces of flesh in clown costume covered in blood.
     She was placed into the car. “Something for the pain, something. Have to tell him. Tell him.” As the car was lifted, watched Tiffany’s head roll in the front seat. “Tell me something. Tell me what she said.”

Alice at the Gates — JavaElemental

     Entering through the Carnival’s main gates, one steps first into the mouth of the midway, a large, sprawling cross of paths that twist and turn out from a center like the star-struck arms spiraling away from the black heart of a galaxy. It’s easy to lose one’s way in the chaotic midway, full of the barking shouts of carnies and the roar of the crowd, easy to lose one’s bearings staring at the dancing wonders of the Carnival of Souls, drifting from game to food stand to attraction, wandering down the paths to the vast mechanical sculptures that are the rides. There are shows and stands where balloons wait to be popped by darts for a small fee and a chance at an even smaller prize, animals to watch, clowns capering back and forth, slinky dancers in even slinkier outfits hawking their shows, acrobats twirling on high. Somewhere near the center, the peak of the Big Top soars over the other tents and stands, and from it issues the gasps and screams of the crowd.
     The paths between the stands are wide, made of dirt packed down by hundreds of thousands of feet beating trails between the shows of Carnivals both mundane and even more fantastic than this one, and they’re layered in sawdust and bits of discarded food wrappers, forgotten prizes, empty paper cups, cigarette butts, and other drifting detritus.

Right, Where Were We? Oh, Yes . . . — MrJames

     Now . . .
     Todd felt as though he’d exploded. Power radiated out of his body, blinding him with its white-hot fury. He was falling, and all around him, stars blazed and dazzled him. Far below him, he could make out a warm, welcoming light, and he fell toward it, laughing at the sheer joy at the feeling of his power flying out into the night sky.
     Ribbons of white flame flew across the sky. Greasy smoke dimmed the stars.
     ”I’m here, Sheila. I’m here to save you.” The way he’d felt, he’d half expected his voice to shake the firmament. To echo throughout this plane. Instead, his voice cracked a little, and he sounded, even to his own ears, like a boy in out of his depth.
     A whimper answered, soft and afraid and perhaps a mile away, but Todd heard it, heard her, as though Sheila were right next to him. He ran, and the very air around him trembled at the power of his presence.

Meeting Memories — JavaElemental

     Above the Carnival, the hill rolled away into woods, and within the woods, the wolf pack lay in lazy piles, eager pups stumbling over their kin. The pups were wild, pouncing each other and snarling, little coal-black noses quivering with excitement, stubby tails like whips. The uncles and aunts batted them around as they stumbled close, watching with idle amusement as the pups played. Their tongues lolled out, their eyes occasionally darting towards the big alpha bitch as she stood guard over her pack.
     The one-eyed female stood only a little away, staring out of the woods and down at the Carnival nestled in the valley. She could hear the chaotic noise drifting up from it, and the cool breeze brought the smells, food and meat, sugar and cinnamon, sawdust and blood. The she-wolf’s nose twitched in the breeze as she read the scents.
     So close to the Carnival, and she found her thoughts arranging themselves in odd, but not entirely unfamiliar, patterns. It had been so long since she had thought anything but wolf thoughts. Woman thoughts felt strange in her mind.

     (Photo credit: Big Top.) Unless otherwise indicated, all writing property of the original owners.

     ucinich Reads Impeachment Articles Against Bush on House Floor:

     (WASHINGTON, D.C.) - For a good part of this evening, Congressman Dennis J. Kucinich (D-Ohio 10th District) has been live on C-Span reading Articles of Impeachment against George W. Bush.
     The former presidential contender is hoping the House will approve a resolution to impeach President Bush, in spite of the fact that the idea has received little support from Democrats. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi earlier stated that the impeachment of George W. Bush was “off the table.”
     The AP reports that Kucinich delivered his proposed impeachment language in a floor speech. His contention is that President Bush set out to deceive the nation and the American people, and consequently violated his oath of office when he set the stage for the Iraq war.

     Impeaching George Bush is “off the table”. Fuck Nancy Pelosi. I can’t believe we finally get some female leadership in Congress, and it turns out to be a dumb bitch with no heuvos. The entire administration is full of war criminals, but no, let’s not impeach them, let’s just set the precedent of letting them get away with everything. That’s much better.
     That irritates me so much, I’ve included a Blue Man video, just to make everyone feel better. Enjoy.