Even more how to run a campaign without really trying*

When we last left, well, us, we had, without argument, rolling eyes or condescending commentary from anyone (I get it, you all like chocolate cake, sheesh. Keep your knickers on and be patient, dammit), codified exactly half of our current, very important, vital, critical and delicious American message to you, the beloved American voter. It's the fourth quarter, two minutes left, 3rd-and-long and we need to hit a buzzer-beating home run to win one for the Gipper so we can at long last defeat evil as spine-chilling as this:






































Yikes!













And you thought this trio was evil.









"What's one thing that all caring, environmentally-conscious, good-hearted, non-evil people like?"








"Soulless Republicans without life sentences, but instead mercilessly hacked into a gooey pulp that's used as compost for victory gardens because the price of store-bought food is so goddamn high?"








"That's what I was going to say."








"Me, too."








"Wrong, wrong and wrong. Randal?"








"Rainbows!"


















Reading is fundamental. So don't make LaForge beam your ass out into space.








"See, unlike those dark age Republicans, we believe in real educational ref -- what the hell is that noise?"


















"Die, monster, die!"








"Oh, that's just MathMan taking his anger out on a roomful of NCLB directives."








"I think we should get back to food, because this is an issue that affects all Americans suffering under deregulated agribusiness behemoths every single day."








"Behemoths that pollute both the environment and our bodies, leaving our souls starving as well."








"Quite right. I'm tired to stretching my food dollar to buy what is essentially poisonous crap that makes our kids all pissy. And their bullshit is cutting into my toking time!"








"We need to think of something that's satisfies both the health requirements of parents and the delicious flavor all children crave. But what magical food contains both -- besides a pot in every chicken, of course."








"Why, o ye of little faith, chocolate cake!"


















Diva/Nunly '08 loves you, too. Won't you return that love by casting your ballot for them this November?








"You guys don't think it's too heavy handed, do you? I mean, everyone wants to be loved, even voters."








"Even Republican voters?"








"I stand corrected."








"We need to close our message on a positive, populist note. Not that clean food and water isn't necessary, but hell with that for a second. We need something visceral, something that speaks to the gut --"











"Did someone say 'gut'?"








"Get outta here, you goddamn fascist! Security! Do we even have security?"








"We hired that one guy, but it was difficult to find someone competent on such short notice."


















"Zzzzzzzz...."








"Grumble. This would be so much easier if we were evil. We could just employ Blackwater. Anyway, what's the number one want in American society, always has been, always will be?"








"Sex."







"Sex."








"Sex."








"Sex."








"Sex."








"Sex."








"Sex."








"Thus, something perfect for lazing around on a Sunday afternoon -- or at work, if only narrow-minded corporates would let us -- something that encompasses our core values of peace, love, understanding and slackery: happy underpants!"


















"Voting for Diva/Nunly makes my underpants very happy."**








"Lordy, mine, too. I mean -- gasp! -- dear wife, where is your modesty? Your chaste comportment? Wait a second, you mean right now? But I'm in a meeting -- well, wow, since you put it that way.

BRB."






















"Whew. Sorry to have made you guys wait so long."








"You were gone a minute, Randal. Now let's get back to work. Don't make me give Bush a call."
























"I'll be good."

They're sexier than the old white guy, the middle-aged black guy and the orangutan from a dystopian future.

Combined.

That's a lotta sexy.
Vote Diva/Nunly '08.












It's the hot thing to do.

*still preapproved by Diva. Paid for by yet another daring nighttime raid, this one on Rupert Murdoch's house.
**sorry Nunly, you know I'd get some eye candy in there eventually. Alright, fine, for those of you into manly men of manliness here's a a fine example of American dudesmanship relaxing in his skivvies after a hard day of toiling for The Man. Now stop asking. Don't make me sic the Lone Gunman Anthraxer on you. Oh wait, both patsies are dead. Nevermind.

How to run a campaign without really trying*

The Diva/Nunly '08 campaign, in our ongoing Bunyanesque effort so reminiscent of a perpetual motion machine of American-made axes chopping down the trees of tyranny thereby permitting, by the grace of Saint Ronnie --


















"Well, there you go again, praising my rugged individualism."

-- the shining, Brylcreem rays of the American torch of liberty to reach you, the precious American voter, would like to give you, the treasured American voter, a behind-the-scenes glimpse at our decision to salute the inexhaustible joy that cherished American things bring, usually followed up by a tear -- no! Save your own, O American voter that we adore, for it is not a bitter, salty lament, but one as sweet as happy fun --








"Don't forget American."

-- candy, perhaps even a Clark Bar!**










Ugh. That's enough typical bullshit sloganeering for one election.

Since we run a clean, peace-loving campaign with your choice of beer, jelly donuts and strawberries to wash down the tasty meats (yeah, we've even got veggie burgers for you über-lefties, so mellow out) of our BBQs that everyone but the press is invited to, we don't call our war room a war room. We prefer to think of it as a message parlor.

So instead of filling your beautiful minds with images of verbal infighting, fisticuffs and papers spattered with the blood of strategery, we lustily offer good food and drink and a sensual rubdown for the low, low price of your vote. En plus, we're far more attractive than the two jokers pictured above.

Hey, sex sells.

So get ready for an unprecedented look --








"It's entirely precedented, Mr. Graves."








"Why you green-blooded, pointy-eared --"








"Thanks for the homo sapiens solidarity, McCoy, but why don't you guys go back to your own piece of fiction? Stupid fucking Hollywood assh -- what? The camera's still rolling?

Anyway, we love all things American, but some American things are more American than others and we endeavor to inform all Americans of our inextinguishable love of these extra-patriotic American things. For example --"








"Kittens."














Pet these feisty felines for only one dollar Euro!








"You want to sell cute n' cuddly kittens with that?"








"There's violence. Americans love violence."








"And food, just like kittens do. In other words, America is one big, violent, hungry kitten that won't accept devalued American currency thanks to eight years of insane fiscal policy by people who hate everything America stands for. Oh, and we love this kitten."








"Exactly!"








"Why did I hire you again?"








"The monocle conceals a Hypno Ray --"








"-- possibly of alien origin. We don't know what kind of permanent effects that can have on either the hypnotizer or the hypnotizee. I'll get right on that."








"I knew a Minister of UFOs would come in handy. Okay, what about puppies?"














Our opponents enable man-eating terrorist cats that are anti-football, anti-family and anti-freedom. Don't be like them. Love kittens. Be American.








"That's not very positive. And you didn't even address puppies."








"But I hate the Cincinnati Bengals."








"Everyone hates the Cincinnati Bengals. Why not have an ad with someone flipping off McCain while you're at it?"








"Let's hold off on the one-fingered salutes. I'm not running the FCC yet and we don't have Cheney's oil money to pay the fines, that's why."








"Relax, gang. Birds and puppies aren't even necessary. We simply show Johnny in his natural habitat. That's enough to scare the bejeezus out of anyone. Just watch the reaction of the test audience:"

































"Scares the hell out of me, too! Let's get back to being positive for a moment. Something not so frightening. How about moonbeams?"













We need a keg in orbit to provide emergency beer!

"We'll drink to that!"

Coming tomorrow, the yawn-inducing exciting conclusion!

Vote Diva/Nunly '08, you filthy hippies freedom loving Americans!

*preapproved by Diva, like your credit card. Paid for by a daring nighttime raid on Halliburton's headquarters.
**made in America by Necco, an American company based in America!

More pot pourri, BYOP

"Don't hate me for telling you sweet little lies."












"What we've got here, is a failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it...
well, he gets it!"














I don't like it any more than you men. Now that we know why the system has failed, classy chicks and debonair dudes, can anything be done? Let's rap.


















Sure, this particular gig already happened, but it's the thought that counts: we're all in this together. I'm not talking politically -- that won't get fixed 'til the cows come home and since they're in The Undisclosed Location® feeding the human snacks that Cheney munches on before watching his torture porn, catch my drift? -- but as non-evil human beings. Even us legendary moody bastards -- believe me, just ask my wife -- need some communist linkage now and then. But not too much. Why are you still here? Fuck off.














We should probably burn off all those beer and brat calories, huh. Let's get outside and run around like little green idiots, I puke, the end.












Before we close on a happy note, slipping into the blissful land of Nod, want to know what hell will be like?

Sweet dreams.

Been caught stealing

"My friends, I need that laptop."
"You can't just take someone's laptop without suspicion, Senator."
"Probable cause is for fancy boys. This is the border between Pennsylvania and Mexico, dammit."

Federal agents may take a traveler's laptop computer or other electronic device to an off-site location for an unspecified period of time without any suspicion of wrongdoing, as part of border search policies the Department of Homeland Security recently disclosed.

Now that's the America I know. Sniff. Sweet land of liberty...of thee...I...sing...

DHS officials said the newly disclosed policies -- which apply to anyone entering the country, including U.S. citizens -- are reasonable and necessary to prevent terrorism. Officials said such procedures have long been in place but were disclosed last month because of public interest in the matter.

Civil liberties and business travel groups have pressed the government to disclose its procedures as an increasing number of international travelers have reported that their laptops, cellphones and other digital devices had been taken -- for months, in at least one case -- and their contents examined.

The policies state that officers may "detain" laptops "for a reasonable period of time" to "review and analyze information." This may take place "absent individualized suspicion."

Sure, it sounds ridiculous, but you know the jihadist's modus operandi: file after file skilfully hidden on the C drive with scary-sounding names like greatsatan.txt, suitcasebomb.doc and the always frightening killtheirbabies.exe. So, untie the Gordian knot that is your panties and chill.

The policies cover "any device capable of storing information in digital or analog form," including hard drives, flash drives, cellphones, iPods, pagers, beepers, and video and audio tapes. They also cover "all papers and other written documentation," including books, pamphlets and "written materials commonly referred to as 'pocket trash' or 'pocket litter.'"

Papers please, indeed. But don't worry, iron-clad safeguards exist to protect you, the citizen, from any wrongdoing at the behest of others who might not have your best interests in mind. Not everyone can have a gut as sensitive to the nuances of our violent and dangerous world like Secretary Chertoff who, alone among men, realizes that "the most dangerous contraband is often contained in laptop computers or other electronic devices." Oh brother, don't I know it! When I'm abroad sowing the seeds of democracy in barbarian lands, I'm always stuffing my Colombian in the spaces between microprocessors for the comfortable plane ride back home.

Reasonable measures must be taken to protect business information and attorney-client privileged material, the policies say, but there is no specific mention of the handling of personal data such as medical and financial records.

When a review is completed and no probable cause exists to keep the information, any copies of the data must be destroyed. Copies sent to non-federal entities must be returned to DHS. But the documents specify that there is no limitation on authorities keeping written notes or reports about the materials.

Whew! I know I feel better, don't you? Time for a drink to celebrate.
Something chilling.