Hammer Mill Days

First there was day of the triffiids. Then there was night of the living dead. Now there's week of the homeless virtual rock band. And what do they all have in common? Space people. Mother-fucking space people. Hello again from sleepy upstate New York (formerly known as Sri Lanka). Last week as you recall, your friends in Big Green had made the fearful discovery that our local city hall was under foreign occupation. No, it hadn't been overrun by stormtroopers from a distant power - this was a far more congenial takeover. Space people, armed with sacks of cash and buckets of Miracle Grow bribed their way into the building and have taken the place of our entire city council. This could be a problem, folks. Got a tax dispute? Tell it to the space man. Need the street sweepers to do a once-over on your block? Better learn to speak Betelgeusean real quick. (And take it from me - it is not an easy language to learn. No vowels. Nada .) Someone set your house on fire? Contact the mo...

Look out, folks - here comes the straight talk express, charging down the track straight toward you. For what seems like the twelfth time in as many months, John McCain has launched (or re-launched) his presidential bid, trying to trade on any of his former selves that the public will buy - Mister Independent, Mister Inevitable, Mister Iraq Victory, etc. Pick your favorite McCain... or collect all three! At this stage, the Arizona senator's flagging campaign appears to be centered on his dogged support for the Iraq project, albeit a "better managed" variant of that catastrophe. The calculation is a simple one - McCain supports the troop increase because he believes it's right, even though it's unpopular; a position that is supposed to lend him an aura of integrity and moral authority. Everyone else is playing politics with the war, but not McCain. That's his card, and he's playing it for all it's worth, equating troop withdrawals with "surrender...