Predator Press
[LOBO]
My college talked me out my Philosophy AA in the faintest hope of collecting on the student loans. (silly bastards ... I guess "Hope Springs Eternal")
But now, armed with a Liberal Arts degree and without the Philosophy background, people expect me to do stuff all the time. Like go to work. And then, even after the whole "showing up at work" debacle, they actually make me stay there. And work!
And then --after all that-- I gotta pay bills with the money! Bills that generally revolve around reliable transportation to work, food so I can work, and clothes ... [most places to work require clothing too ... Can you believe this crap!?]
And let us not forget paying pack the Student Loans!
[*choke/sob*]
BASTARDS!!!
Tuesday
Thursday
Petit Maul
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Nobody was more stunned than I that I got called for jury duty. Me? The battle-scarred tattered grease-splotched denim wearin’ working poor? I think the first thing I did was look in the mirror and sigh.
“Well” I reasoned, “I guess not all of one’s peers can be Barbie and Ken”.
Out of my respect, I dug deep into the closet for whatever forgotten “formal wear” I owned. (My favorite weather is when it’s so cold, people stop giving a shit about what they’re wearing; it’s a rare moment that I fit right in with my plaid shirt, green culottes, Tiffany’s broche and a 7th century iron codpiece.)
I was intrigued and –I must admit—a little excited at the prospect … for someone that only goes to court for occasional nuisance traffic tickets, this time I won’t be the one getting fried. I’m the State’s guest. This is analogous to going to Mars or something.
So skip ahead. A few weeks later I, Judicianaut, and 73 other “potential jurors” are eventually corralled into a courtroom, and intently listened to the judge announce the charges. And it’s then that I notice that the defendant and the defendant’s lawyer were black. I might never have noticed that little detail, save for that I was watching them amid a backdrop consisting of a white judge, white Bailiff, white court reporter, white prosecuting attorney, and a sea of 74 white jurors.
Out of 80 people in the room, two of them are black.
One’s the defendant.
The other is the defendant’s attorney.
My mind reeled. “How statistically probable is this?” I wondered. "How could our little representative sample of 80 people --Pianosians presumably-- be all white people?"
Small talk with a few other potential jurors did not alleviate my concern. Worse, some seemed to think that this was a good thing!
Ethan and I talked about it quite extensively:
ETHAN: “Potential jurors are selected by voter registration and drivers’ license record. Do you honestly think that there’s someone going through the drivers’ license photos and only selecting certain ones?”
LOBO: "No, I don’t. I think it’s far worse than that. Let’s give 'The State' the benefit of the doubt and assume they truly pooled these people at random. Racism, it appears, doesn’t need to rear its ugly head here because the overall institutionalized judicial process has conveniently “sanitized” itself --by virtue of the selection procedure-- in advance. Despite 'Rights' proudly boasting that 'All Men are Created Equal', it certainly seems evident that some men are considered more [or less] 'equal' than others."
ETHAN: [strokes his mustache for a second in quiet thought] "Have you ever seen the movie 'Twelve Angry Men'?
LOBO: "No I haven't".
ETHAN: "I've always wanted to see that movie. I heard it was really good."
LOBO: "Yeah, I heard it was really good too."
Zane is a fairly culturally diverse company … and I feel that reversed-racism sting --perhaps undeservedly—all the time. But knowing the whole damn national system is intrinsically skewed in the white mans’ favor, and at such a fundamental level as jury selection …
... Well, that just plain sickens me too ...
[LOBO]
Nobody was more stunned than I that I got called for jury duty. Me? The battle-scarred tattered grease-splotched denim wearin’ working poor? I think the first thing I did was look in the mirror and sigh.
“Well” I reasoned, “I guess not all of one’s peers can be Barbie and Ken”.
Out of my respect, I dug deep into the closet for whatever forgotten “formal wear” I owned. (My favorite weather is when it’s so cold, people stop giving a shit about what they’re wearing; it’s a rare moment that I fit right in with my plaid shirt, green culottes, Tiffany’s broche and a 7th century iron codpiece.)
I was intrigued and –I must admit—a little excited at the prospect … for someone that only goes to court for occasional nuisance traffic tickets, this time I won’t be the one getting fried. I’m the State’s guest. This is analogous to going to Mars or something.
So skip ahead. A few weeks later I, Judicianaut, and 73 other “potential jurors” are eventually corralled into a courtroom, and intently listened to the judge announce the charges. And it’s then that I notice that the defendant and the defendant’s lawyer were black. I might never have noticed that little detail, save for that I was watching them amid a backdrop consisting of a white judge, white Bailiff, white court reporter, white prosecuting attorney, and a sea of 74 white jurors.
Out of 80 people in the room, two of them are black.
One’s the defendant.
The other is the defendant’s attorney.
My mind reeled. “How statistically probable is this?” I wondered. "How could our little representative sample of 80 people --Pianosians presumably-- be all white people?"
Small talk with a few other potential jurors did not alleviate my concern. Worse, some seemed to think that this was a good thing!
Ethan and I talked about it quite extensively:
ETHAN: “Potential jurors are selected by voter registration and drivers’ license record. Do you honestly think that there’s someone going through the drivers’ license photos and only selecting certain ones?”
LOBO: "No, I don’t. I think it’s far worse than that. Let’s give 'The State' the benefit of the doubt and assume they truly pooled these people at random. Racism, it appears, doesn’t need to rear its ugly head here because the overall institutionalized judicial process has conveniently “sanitized” itself --by virtue of the selection procedure-- in advance. Despite 'Rights' proudly boasting that 'All Men are Created Equal', it certainly seems evident that some men are considered more [or less] 'equal' than others."
ETHAN: [strokes his mustache for a second in quiet thought] "Have you ever seen the movie 'Twelve Angry Men'?
LOBO: "No I haven't".
ETHAN: "I've always wanted to see that movie. I heard it was really good."
LOBO: "Yeah, I heard it was really good too."
Zane is a fairly culturally diverse company … and I feel that reversed-racism sting --perhaps undeservedly—all the time. But knowing the whole damn national system is intrinsically skewed in the white mans’ favor, and at such a fundamental level as jury selection …
... Well, that just plain sickens me too ...
Wednesday
[*sigh*]
Predator Press
[LOBO]
The problem with working on this Blog is that it has taken all the spice out of calling off of work ... thus, basking in my usual slothfull indolence has lost a certain degree of debauched and ruthless zeal.
Still, I can offer up endless lame excuses all day long to you, o loyal reader.
Because I care.
So here goes.
The reason I don't get around to blogging very often is that I occasionaly moonlight as a double-secret agent. Last week I was in Pianosa investigating MINDERBINDER, INC for the United States Government. (Pianosa is a country a little south of Nigeria and a little north of, uh, Antarctica.) It was there that I was taken by surprise by a well-armed horde of Space Mongols. I was subsequently held in a concentration camp for forty-four years, escaping with only the cunning use of my hair gel and a twig.
I’m now blogging via sattelite, riding on the back of an elephant through Deepest Darkest Africa in search of the US Embassy. But satellites are really heavy, and my elephant is getting tired and really cranky so I have to keep this short.
I have to warn the world of the coming Space Mongol invasion. I also think I should not do anything resembling work tomorrow either … you know … in case anything weird happens. I need to conserve my energy.
The President, Myself, and the rest of the Free World all thank you for your cooperation and understanding in this matter, and I will blog some more as soon as I find a new elephant.
Ahhhh ... that's better.
[LOBO]
The problem with working on this Blog is that it has taken all the spice out of calling off of work ... thus, basking in my usual slothfull indolence has lost a certain degree of debauched and ruthless zeal.
Still, I can offer up endless lame excuses all day long to you, o loyal reader.
Because I care.
So here goes.
The reason I don't get around to blogging very often is that I occasionaly moonlight as a double-secret agent. Last week I was in Pianosa investigating MINDERBINDER, INC for the United States Government. (Pianosa is a country a little south of Nigeria and a little north of, uh, Antarctica.) It was there that I was taken by surprise by a well-armed horde of Space Mongols. I was subsequently held in a concentration camp for forty-four years, escaping with only the cunning use of my hair gel and a twig.
I’m now blogging via sattelite, riding on the back of an elephant through Deepest Darkest Africa in search of the US Embassy. But satellites are really heavy, and my elephant is getting tired and really cranky so I have to keep this short.
I have to warn the world of the coming Space Mongol invasion. I also think I should not do anything resembling work tomorrow either … you know … in case anything weird happens. I need to conserve my energy.
The President, Myself, and the rest of the Free World all thank you for your cooperation and understanding in this matter, and I will blog some more as soon as I find a new elephant.
Ahhhh ... that's better.
Sunday
Dear DASH
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Why do I work circled by whirling death machines all day only to become most mortally fearful when I wanna use the bathroom there at ZANE? Now I know I work in the Whirling Death Machine Department, but I sure as the hell don't want some unpronouncable supervirus leaping up my can and replacing my kidney with a "Starbucks" or something, thank you.
Could you please use hygiene as a consideration of hire?
[LOBO]
Why do I work circled by whirling death machines all day only to become most mortally fearful when I wanna use the bathroom there at ZANE? Now I know I work in the Whirling Death Machine Department, but I sure as the hell don't want some unpronouncable supervirus leaping up my can and replacing my kidney with a "Starbucks" or something, thank you.
Could you please use hygiene as a consideration of hire?
4:21
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Yes, the article in People magazine is true. "LOBO: The Motion Picture" has been derailed once again in contract negotiations.
These racists have an issue with Wesley Snipes playing "LOBO".
Okay, sure he's not white ... but if you've seen any of the Blade movies, he's obviously already got all my ninja moves down pretty good.
And so what? Are you tryin ta say Wesley Snipes can't act!?
[LOBO]
Yes, the article in People magazine is true. "LOBO: The Motion Picture" has been derailed once again in contract negotiations.
These racists have an issue with Wesley Snipes playing "LOBO".
Okay, sure he's not white ... but if you've seen any of the Blade movies, he's obviously already got all my ninja moves down pretty good.
And so what? Are you tryin ta say Wesley Snipes can't act!?
Tuesday
DREXLER GETS LIFE
Boston, MA in Flames
Predator Press
[STAFF]
Denzinald Remmy, forcibly escorted from his Ferrari, grimmly contemplates a splatter of croissants and latte, a horrifying effigy of violent Bostonian uprising. "I remember when he played for The Bulls, all hyped up on Ebonics and asteroids to improve his game performance ... serves him right!"
Oooh, we're so scared. Next thing you know, they'll start dumping tea in some ecologically unsound water supply.
Story continued on some blog that gives a crap, okay?
Cripes, haven't you heard about that dude Drexel!?
[STAFF]
Denzinald Remmy, forcibly escorted from his Ferrari, grimmly contemplates a splatter of croissants and latte, a horrifying effigy of violent Bostonian uprising. "I remember when he played for The Bulls, all hyped up on Ebonics and asteroids to improve his game performance ... serves him right!"
Oooh, we're so scared. Next thing you know, they'll start dumping tea in some ecologically unsound water supply.
Story continued on some blog that gives a crap, okay?
Cripes, haven't you heard about that dude Drexel!?
Sunday
DASH CUNNING HAS RETURNED
Predator Press
[DASH CUNNING]
YES PEOPLE! DRY YOUR TEARS. DASH CUNNING, IN RESPONSE TO YOUR MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF EMAILS, HAS ONCE AGAIN RETURNED TO GRACE YOU WITH HIS WISDOM. AND HOPEFULLY HE WILL RESCUE THIS BLOG FROM ALL THIS OTHER BANAL NONSENSE AND DRIVEL TOO.
SORRY FOR DASH CUNNING'S EXTENDED ABSENCE. ZANE INDUSTRIES IS A DEMANDING MISTRESS. IT TURNS OUT THAT 75% OF ALL ACCIDENTS (AND POTENTIAL LAWSUITS) AT OUR WAREHOUSE INVOLVE "MOBILE EQUIPMENT" SUCH AS FORKLIFTS AND THINGS. DASH CUNNING IS PROUD TO ANNOUNCE THAT AS OF TODAY, ALL "MOBILE EQUIPMENT" AT ZANE INDUSTRIES HAS BEEN RENDERED COMPLETELY IMMOBILE.
INSTEAD OF RECKLESSLY DRIVING A FOUR-TON VEHICLE AROUND AND MOVING DANGEROUS PALLETS OF SINISTER PRODUCTS ABOUT, WE WILL NOW HAVE EIGHT BIG GUYS TO LIFT THE FORKLIFT TO THE PALLET, SLIDE THE FORKS UNDER IT, AND THEN CARRY THE FORKLIFT, FORKLIFT DRIVER (SOMEBODY HAS TO FREQUENTLY BLAST THE HORN), PALLET AND FREIGHT TO THE DESIRED LOCATION.
AS THIS WILL OBVIOUSLY BE A HUGE SETBACK FOR OUR WOULD-BE ROBOT OVERLORDS, DASH CUNNING CAN NOW FOCUS ON THE EVIL ZOMBIE HORDE'S INEVITABLE INVASION.
... WELL, THAT AND HIRING EIGHT NEW FORKLIFT LIFTERS (THEY WON'T LET DASH CUNNING OUTSOURCE THIS TO INDIA) ... AND SPEAKING OF DASH CUNNING, DASH CUNNING WANTS A PITH HELMET. DASH CUNNING WOULD LOOK GREAT IN A PITH HELMET. IT WOULD AUGMENT DASH CUNNING'S RUGGED, GOOD LOOKS WITH A REGAL AND IMPERIALIST STATURE. DO ANY OF YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHERE THIS "PITH" SHOP IS?
ANYWAY, ANYONE INTERESTED IN JOINING DASH CUNNINGS'S ELITE CORE OF ZANE INDUSTRIES FORKLIFT LIFTERS PLEASE EMAIL YOUR RESUME.
ENGLISH SPEAKING NEED NOT APPLY.
[DASH CUNNING]
YES PEOPLE! DRY YOUR TEARS. DASH CUNNING, IN RESPONSE TO YOUR MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF EMAILS, HAS ONCE AGAIN RETURNED TO GRACE YOU WITH HIS WISDOM. AND HOPEFULLY HE WILL RESCUE THIS BLOG FROM ALL THIS OTHER BANAL NONSENSE AND DRIVEL TOO.
SORRY FOR DASH CUNNING'S EXTENDED ABSENCE. ZANE INDUSTRIES IS A DEMANDING MISTRESS. IT TURNS OUT THAT 75% OF ALL ACCIDENTS (AND POTENTIAL LAWSUITS) AT OUR WAREHOUSE INVOLVE "MOBILE EQUIPMENT" SUCH AS FORKLIFTS AND THINGS. DASH CUNNING IS PROUD TO ANNOUNCE THAT AS OF TODAY, ALL "MOBILE EQUIPMENT" AT ZANE INDUSTRIES HAS BEEN RENDERED COMPLETELY IMMOBILE.
INSTEAD OF RECKLESSLY DRIVING A FOUR-TON VEHICLE AROUND AND MOVING DANGEROUS PALLETS OF SINISTER PRODUCTS ABOUT, WE WILL NOW HAVE EIGHT BIG GUYS TO LIFT THE FORKLIFT TO THE PALLET, SLIDE THE FORKS UNDER IT, AND THEN CARRY THE FORKLIFT, FORKLIFT DRIVER (SOMEBODY HAS TO FREQUENTLY BLAST THE HORN), PALLET AND FREIGHT TO THE DESIRED LOCATION.
AS THIS WILL OBVIOUSLY BE A HUGE SETBACK FOR OUR WOULD-BE ROBOT OVERLORDS, DASH CUNNING CAN NOW FOCUS ON THE EVIL ZOMBIE HORDE'S INEVITABLE INVASION.
... WELL, THAT AND HIRING EIGHT NEW FORKLIFT LIFTERS (THEY WON'T LET DASH CUNNING OUTSOURCE THIS TO INDIA) ... AND SPEAKING OF DASH CUNNING, DASH CUNNING WANTS A PITH HELMET. DASH CUNNING WOULD LOOK GREAT IN A PITH HELMET. IT WOULD AUGMENT DASH CUNNING'S RUGGED, GOOD LOOKS WITH A REGAL AND IMPERIALIST STATURE. DO ANY OF YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHERE THIS "PITH" SHOP IS?
ANYWAY, ANYONE INTERESTED IN JOINING DASH CUNNINGS'S ELITE CORE OF ZANE INDUSTRIES FORKLIFT LIFTERS PLEASE EMAIL YOUR RESUME.
ENGLISH SPEAKING NEED NOT APPLY.
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