Brain Spoon

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brain spoon n. 1. A device used by 4th century Quirinalian monks to exact revenge for crimes deemed monstrously immoral. The device consisted of a large scoop with razor sharp edges, fixed to bellows and a hollow tube, through which was poured a mixture of vinegar and molten metal intended to soften the skull, thereby facilitating cranial penetration and extraction of brain sections. 2. Any device which causes extreme pain in the craniocerebral region.

And now, for The Best of Wayne Moon, you'll have to weed through this mangled Myspace site that will need to be reconstructed after their attempt to keep up: Wayne Moon on Myspace.

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Conventicomics

First, I thought I heard President Bush, when asked if the war on terrorism would ever be won, say, "I don't think you can win it." The next day, I thought I heard him say that we will win the war on terrorism: New York Times article.

Then I thought I heard Mayor Giuliani compare the Republicans to the NY Yankees, and just now I think I heard that the Yankees lost to the Indians 22-0.

Anyway, even if they were auditory delusions, I'm pretty sure I wasted that fifty bucks I sent to the DNC last month....

Friday, August 27, 2004

Stop Reading This (after you've read this) and Do Something!

In April 2003, I read an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about how fears of terror plots against chemical plants have spurred calls for more oversight. In the Philadelphia region, an attack could put more than one million humans at risk of serious injury or death. The accompanying graphic displayed big circles around potential targets all over the place. That should have been enough to keep us on the telephone with our congress people long into the night. It’s more than a year later, and it seems we’ve already forgotten how easy it is to drive down the highway and launch a few grenades at a hydrogen fluoride tank in the Sunoco refinery. Believe me, I’m not giving the bad guys any ideas here. But I am starting to think that they’re the only people who react to an article like the one in the Inquirer. Of course, they’re probably thinking about using the information for evil rather than good. So who’s working on preventing a deliberate catastrophe at one of these facilities? How about we all start now! Learn more at www.safehometowns.org, and send a letter to your Senator. And stock up on supplies in the disaster kit. And build a windmill. And move to the mountains. We must stay alive so that we can win.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Status Symbol Dependent

Everyone knows that our dependence on status symbols is contributing to American fatalities overseas and abroad. So shouldn't we all agree to do something about these big issues I'm always right about?

Safety Gap Grows Wider Between S.U.V.'s and Cars
By DANNY HAKIM
DETROIT, Aug. 16 - The gap in safety between sport utility vehicles and passenger cars last year was the widest yet recorded, according to new federal traffic data. People driving or riding in a sport utility vehicle in 2003 were nearly 11 percent more likely to die in an accident than people in cars, the figures show.

By the way, remember when President Bush pledged about a buck three eighty toward research and development of hydrogen fuel alternatives? While it's true that experts have said hydrogen fuel cell technology for automobiles will not be a viable answer in our lifetimes (especially if we're only spending the same amount that went into R&D of the Ford Taurus), can we at least give the public a chance to mull it over? In our new role as tech leaders, New Jerseyans have an opportunity to consider recommendations made by the Rutgers University Center for Energy, Economic and Environmental Policy. Lean all about hydrogen fuel in the report here. In the meantime, plant your windmill garden before it's too late.


Friday, August 13, 2004

Israeli Boy-Toy Brings Down Governor

McGreevey associates say Israeli involved

What's the big deal? you ask. Half of Trenton is probably gay anyway, with the teacher's union across the street from the statehouse, you say. The big deal is the deception, paying an unqualified poet (he's not even an American citizen) with my tax dollars to keep our state safe. Of course that's old news. The big deal is the endless stream of corruption. I eschew mendacity. Mostly, I lament for the Governor's daughters. Girls already have a tough time in school. Imagine how this could play out. Fortunately, they'll have the option to be isolated from society until adulthood, which always guarantees a stable personality.

Monday, August 09, 2004

Back from Vacation with Politics and Sadness

First, the Politics

What Homeland Security Advisor? Did you know we have a Homeland Security Advisor? Did we just get one? Why can't Tom Ridge be the Homeland Security Advisor? Why can't we just consolidate the National Security Advisor and the Homeland Security Advisor? Who is this Frances Fragos Townsend, anyway? When did she pop onto the scene? Well, I'll tell you. According to the White House press release on April 30, 2004,

President George W. Bush announced his intention to appoint Frances Fragos Townsend to be Assistant to the President and Homeland Security Advisor. Ms. Townsend will fill the position held by General John A. Gordon who announced his retirement after 36 years of public service.

Ms. Townsend previously served as Deputy Assistant to the President and Deputy National Security Advisor for Combating Terrorism. She reports to the Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs and to the Assistant to the President for Homeland Security with respect to matters relating to global terrorism in the United States. She will continue to serve in this role in addition to her new responsibilities until blah blah blah.

"Frances Townsend has been a trusted advisor on global terrorism . . . as we face the continuing challenges of protecting America from the terrorists who seek to do us harm," President Bush stated.
Okay? Got it?

And now, the Sadness

Have you seen M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village? Each Shyamalan movie had been worse than the previous one, so I didn't expect to like this one. I understand some of the criticism of The Village. Yes, inhabitants speak of “Those We Don’t Speak Of” all the time. Yes, some dialogue invites satire (“You needn't be scared. We have the magic rocks. They will keep us safe.”). Yes, growing up with a religious devotion to the Twilight Zone prepared me to guess the big twist halfway into the movie. And yes, maybe it is too silly to be taken as serious allegory. But for me, the allegory struck home. Or on vacation, anyway. I saw it while on vacation, appropriately, in rural Pennsylvania. In the movie, red is “the bad color” and must be hidden lest it invite “Those We Don’t Speak Of” to enter the village and eat them or whatever. Red is passion, suppressed by the yearning young. The village elders are hiding their own guilty secrets. And everyone avoids discussing any of it, in their contractionless, puritanical Americanese. I thought of my family, my village. As a youth, I assumed that it was normal for families to use proper English, all the while avoiding the unpleasantness life offers: politics, death. A few days ago, I learned that a relative is dying. This person, who married into the family before I was born and divorced some years ago, is included in some of my favorite childhood memories. When I try to get details from my family, there is simply an acknowledgement of the sadness, and I am astounded to be faced with their acceptance that nothing can be done. “They don’t just send people home!” I say. “We have the best hospitals in the world! Of course something can be done! For cryin’ out loud, we have stereotactic radiation therapy! Etcetera!” But the subject is changed to something more pleasant, like radios and eggplant and magic rocks that will keep us safe.