Hammer Mill Days

No sandwich? No matter. Open another can. Try one of those square ones. What's inside that one? I'll be damned. We must have taken the wrong cans. Domage ! Okay, so we don't have any Domage . What the hell are we supposed to eat up here in the middle of nowhere? NO MORE CHESSE-BASED SNACK FOODS! I'VE HAD IT WITH THAT GARBAGE! (Hopefully the Cheese-It people don't read this blog - I'd hate like hell to loose that endorsement money.) Well, as you can see, we are bobbing through space in our rented space craft, foraging for sustenance, flipping through superannuated star charts, hoping for a break in our navigational quandary. Sadly, Big Green didn't have the budget for a proper navigator, so once again, we have pressed Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, into the pilot's couch. (Stool, actually. As I said, this is a cheap rental.) Our first destination? Neptune. Back to Neptune once again, where the bars are always open, the streets are always molten...

Here is what I'm thinking about this week. Nothing too much out of the ordinary, frankly. Another lie falls flat. Just listened to a harrowing story on Democracy Now !, about ten days old (I listen to the podcasts up here in nowheresville). Amy Goodman was talking to the wife of an Iraqi detainee - a partially disabled ex-general who's been locked up by the Iraqis for about a year, tortured hideously, without charge or any prospect for release. The story is sadly familiar in its contours - you can find similar ones in practically every country we've ever "helped". Listening to it, I could only think of one of the many justifications for the invasion of Iraq; that of protecting human rights, ending torture, etc. There will be no more rape rooms, George W. Bush promised to the Iraqis as he announced his unilateral, criminal war in March 2003. Well.... there are rape rooms. Another lie bites the dust. Not your monkey. It's the economy, stupid, to be sure, but...