Change of Email Address

Anybody who cares, I've changed my email address again.
When I started with email, I thought I'd be clever and use sendit2me as my name.  You know: "Hey, what's your email address?" "Send it to me at gmail dot com".  I was so clever.  In my head.
When I have to tell people my address, I quickly realised, I have to explain that the "to" in "send it to me" is the number 2, not the word "to".  A pain in the butt.

Fortunately, I was smart enough to also snag the name robmacd.

So, from now on, if you want to contact me, please do so at RobMacD at gmail dot com  (use capitals if you want, or don't if you don't want).

Update your address books, peeps.

I apologize for that "peeps" thing.

Good Night, And Good Luck

"We cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home."
Edward R. Murrow

I'm looking forward to this movie.

Shining

This is great.
Click on this link to see a (quicktime) redux version of a trailer for The Shining.  A post-production house had a contest to see who could come up with the best alteration to existing movie trailers, to make them seem like different movies than they actually are.  This one won.

I'd love to see more of the submissions.  If anybody has a link, let me know.

via Screenhead, via Waxy, via Tattered Coat

Free Nucular Missiles For US Children

Here is a link to a video of one of George W. Bush's State of the Union addresses.  Well, okay, perhaps he didn't say all of those words in exactly that order, but a little bit of judicious editing of the video gets to the real subtext of his agenda.

"Our first goal is to show utter contempt for the environment. I have sent you a comprehensive energy plan to devestate communities, kill wildlife, and burn away millions of acres of treasured forests."
"One by one, the terrorists are learning we are building a culture to encourage international terrorism."

Did You Try Rebooting Your Vehicle?

I guess I never posted the outcome of my stalling vehicle problem from last week.  How could you all go on with your lives without knowing the status of my car?  I am so sorry for leaving you in the dark.

So, last Monday, we called Dave's Auto Electric.  They had, on Friday, put in a new alternator, and still our car was stalling pretty much all the time.  We suffered through it through the weekend.  On Monday, Dave's Auto Electric tell us they can't see us on Monday, maybe can squeeze us in on Tuesday.  We get tired of their apparent lacksadaisacal disinterest in our car and call up Walter Piccott Chev Olds.  Usually, I'm reluctant to take a car to a dealer for service, but this being third option, seemed like a good time to try them out, service charges be damned.  They can't take us on Monday, but if we drop by, say 7:45 on Tuesday, they'll look at the car almost first thing.
So, Karyn takes the car in for 7:45, and heads off for work.  I stay home, because last week I was a bum.  At around 10am, the phone rings and it's WPCO, and the car is ready to be picked up.  My father graciously offers to take me there and I go to the service area.
They tell me, that because the new battery we got, the car's computer system "wasn't reading the codes right" and so they basically reformatted the computer, put in all the correct codes, and the car should be fine now.
Uh huh.  I've heard that four or five times in the previous week, so I'm skeptical.  I pay the 44 dollars (basically it cost me an hour of labour, or there abouts, no parts, so that's good), and get in the car to drive it away.  As I'm driving off the lot, the car stalls, just as it had so many times in the past week.  Totally frustrated, I prepare to park the car, get out and try to be rational and calm as I tell them they've missed the problem, just like everyone else.  Instead, though, I decide to drive it a bit, to see if it works itself out.  I go to my parent's for a tea, and when I leave the car stalls again.  Before I take it back to Walter Piccott's, I decide to drive it around for a bit.  So, I take it on yet another drive around the north shore to see it the long drive allows the computer to reset itself.
Not once during the long drive does the car stall.  It still doesn't sound so great, though.  I don't allow myself to get any hopes up.  I decide to drive it around in town, a real stop and start test.  It doesn't stall once, yet it sometimes sounds like it wants to.  That's not enough of a reason to take it back to Walter Piccott's though, so I decide to wait until it begins to stall again.
So far, knock on wood, it hasn't stalled again since.  And each day, its idle sounds more and more healthy.
Maybe it's fixed.

Arista (1997-2005)

Our cat, Arista, the fourth member of our family of three, as much a sibling as our only child will know, died last night.
We are all sad today.
We noticed she, curled up in a corner of the house, had been panting labouriously and fast,  as if not enough air was reaching her lungs.  In obvious distress, I tried to massage her, to feel if anything was perhaps lodged in her windpipe, but found nothing but a distressing cack on each short breath.  I lifted her and took her to her water dish, but she'd have none of it.  She went to her litter box and did some business of the solid sort (which we thought may have been the problem, but still the breath was not coming easily).  She wandered off (with us following) to another, darker corner of the house, as if she wanted to be alone to deal with this troubling annoyance by herself.
Petting and comforting her was doing nothing but apparently annoying her, and she wandered away again.  This time to behind the couch, a sure sign of "leave me alone".  She couldn't be left alone, though, when she started meowing painful, mournful meowings.  Pulled the couch out and picked her up. Now her breathing was labourious and was beginning to sound phlegmy. Not a good sign.  Nor a good sign when liquidy discharge started to come out of her mouth.
We called the vet (this was at 9:30 at night) and told the symptoms and he said he'd meet us at the clinic.  Karyn went by herself, I stayed home with Cameron.
She arrived home about half an hour later.  Not good.  The vet would give Arista oxygen and call us with updates.  Cameron was, by this time, in bed.
Phone call another half hour later.  The vet was giving the cat oxygen, but it wasn't doing much..  He believed Arista had suffered a heart attack.  Also, there was substantial liquid forming in her lungs.  Perhaps, surmised the vet, she had taken some poison?  None that we were aware of.
As we were wondering what the next step should be, the vet says "hold on, she stopped moving".  When he came back on the phone, he told us Arista had died.

I was the one who told Cameron this morning, and that wasn't much fun.  She was the only pet Cameron had had.  He was the one who picked her out at the Shelter, when he was three or four years old.  He was the one who decided upon the name.  Immediately, she was house-trained, and a great addition to the family.  She played games with Cameron when he (or she) was bored, like Hide and Seek and Eat My Hair (don't ask).  She was devoutly jealous of almost every one of Cameron's friends, and would take every opportunity to hiss at them whenever they were occupying his time.  Those were the only times she'd show any hint of a negative attitude.
I'll miss those nights when I was falling asleep, Arista would jump up on my side of our bed and curl up beside me for five or ten minutes before heading off to her other nightly pursuits, and those countless times she'd curl up beside me on the couch and we'd watch TV together.

She was a great cat.  We'll miss her.

Talk Like A Pirate Day

Today is Talk Like A Pirate Day.

Just like last year, I choose to speak like a pirate who is a bit more educated, and has a better grasp of the English language, than your more typical (one might say "stereotyped") pirate.

So, in my finest pirate voice, I say:  a good day to you all, my friends.

Also, today is my 40th birthday.

I'm Feeling A Bit Sensortive

Sunday - One week ago today:
My wife calls me (I was at home) from church and tells me the car won't start.  Ignition won't turn over at all, car clock is dead.  Surmised that the battery's dead.  Can't boost it because she can't (nor my father in law) get the hood open.  A couple of years ago, the plastic hood release latch next to the driver's side seat broke, and it's been more and more frustrating getting the hood opened, to the point in the past couple of weeks, where it's almost impossible.  In fact, I think I am the one who knows how to open the hood.
So, her parents give her a ride home from church and take me in to see if I can open the hood and start the car.  Getting the hood open involves cutting the carpet on the floor and stipping the plastic cording around the release wire.  After about ten minutes, I get the hood open, put booster cables on the car and it starts immediately.  Drive to my in-laws and borrow their battery charger.  The charger tells me that the battery is basically fully-charged.  Hmmm, I think, doesn't sound like a dead battery problem.  Assume, though, that it is.
Monday:
Car starts no problem in the morning.  At noon, I drive to pick up DaveS for lunch.  Get in the car, and ignition won't turn over.  Swear a bit and get Dave to get his car and boost it.  Starts no problem.  I decide to take it to our mechanic.  I do, and tell him the problem.  We both agree that a new battery will likely solve the problem.  So, on Monday, the car gets a new battery.  Driving home on Monday evening, after picking up the car from the garage, it stalls at every intersection I come to.  I swear a bit at this new development.
Tuesday:
Take the car back to the mechanic, who says he'll look into it.  I leave the car there all day.  Pick up the car (no charge for the second look) after mechanic's gone home, and the same problem.  Car stalls at every intersection.  Plus it starts to stall if I'm driving down the road without my foot on the gas.  Zen training keeps me from swearing much.  Plus I was pretty much expecting it to be not solved.
Wednesday:
Take the car back to the mechanic.  Says he'll look at it again, but admits he's puzzled. If he can't solve it, he suggests I take it to a place where they can run computer diagnoses on it.  I come back around noon and he says he was talking to someone at Dave's Auto Electric.  He suggested that the computer needs to reset, and to do that, the car needs to be taken on a good long drive (he suggested 45 minutes).  Not allowing myself to believe this would work, I nonetheless go for a lunch-time drive around Brackley, the north shore, Tracedie, etc.  Car is driving better, but once I get back into town, it begins to stall again.  No swearing at all, because I knew the outcome and was prepared for it.
Thursday:
Call early in the morning to Dave's Auto Electric (the place our mechanic suggested we go), but they say they're booked up on Thursday but would try to squeeze us in on Friday.  Because my wife and I had places we needed to go on Thursday and Friday, and were totally frustrated by driving a car that continually stalls, my father graciously offered to loan us his car.  He says it sounds like a faulty sensor.  I agree and expect that's what Dave's Auto Electric will find. We leave our car at my parents.
Friday:
Drop car off at Dave's Auto Electric, but because my wife and I are both busy all day, I ask my father if he'd be the contact.  Mid-afternoon, he goes to pick up the car.  They've installed a new alternator (that and labour = 225 dollars), they take it for a test drive and it's still stalling.  They suggest to my father that we take it for a good drive to reset the computer.  There is confusion from them why they were not able to check the sensors.  I am totally deflated at this point and do not press the issue, so  we take the car for a drive.  No change. Still stalling.
Saturday:
Drive the car into town to do the things I had scheduled.  Car stalls continually.
Sunday:
My wife drives the car to church.  I didn't ask her, but I assume it's continually stalling.
Monday (the day after today):
I don't know whether to go back to Dave's Auto Electric, or to take the car to a certified GM Chevy dealership and let them gouge me with their exorbanent labour charges.  Of if I'll be able to make an appointment at either or any place.

If the car doesn't get fixed at the next place we take it, I'll be officially pissed off.

Funky Waste Group: Compostables!

Tuesday was a very wierd day for me, as an actor.
In the morning, I did the first of my Stanley Theman appearances (see previous post).  Right after that, I donned the Big Donnie outfit, and with the rest of the Canada Rocks Garbage! characters, and a camera crew, we all headed to The Wave at UPEI to do a guerilla-style assault performance of the opening sketch from this year's Sketch22.
We arrived, parked our cars in the visitor's parking lot.  As we all got into costume (me as Big Donnie, Graham and Chewed Up Bubblegum, Andrew as a giant Plastic Bag of Dog Poop, Dennis as a Used Tampon, and Josh as Father Garbage), a couple of people scouted out the best location in the wave for us to perform.  We decided upon our plan of attack.
And then we ran it.
There were three video cameras catching all the action.
I rolled the green IWMC compost bin into positions, turned on the portable stereo which had the speech I mouthed on it, plus the music to the rap song, and away we went.
Some people knew what we were about, but others hadn't a freaking clue.  By the end of the rap song, there was a pretty big crowd, and got huge cheers.  When we were done, we ran out of the building.
It went very well.  Then we decided to do it again, in the same location, basically to get some pick-up shots.  This time through, the crowds didn't bother to stay and watch.  A few did though, and we got some more footage.
With Stanley Theman and Big Donnie, it was a pretty strange one-two acting punch in a couple of hours.

Stanley Theman

What have I been doing lately?
This week has been incredibly busy for me, with three or four assorted acting gigs going on.
The strangest, by far, is the one I'll talk about here.  About a month ago, I was contacted and asked if I could play a nerd.  Not really sure exactly was being asked of me, I said "sure I can".
Turns out there'd be a convention at the Delta this week, of the Mechanical Contractor's Association of Canada.  They wanted me (well, someone, not 'me' specifically, like, they didn't seek me out, just any actor who could do it, and someone at the Delta thought of me) to pretend to be a new delegate to the MCAC and show up to a few events and kind of make my presence known to all.
Wierd gig, sounded easy, and it paid pretty good money, so how could I turn it down.
The name they gave me was Stanley Theman (you know, "Stan the Man", ha ha, right?) and I owned a company called New Energy Refrigeration and Development Mechanical, Limited (or N.E.R.D Mechanical Ltd. for short, ha ha, right?).  I was to be from Whitehorse, NWT.  I was to dress "like a nerd" they told me.  Best I could do was this:  I made my hair look greasy and flat and greasy.  I wore my "Teddy Goldman" glasses and a tight short-sleeve dresshirt over a blue long-sleeve turtleneck.  I had my iPod in my shirt pocket, and some large headphones (which I "forgot" to remove) on my ears.  It was my wierd version of a nerd.  (I wore variations on this theme throughout the week of events)
So, my for my first appearance, I was to show up at the MCAC Board of Director's meeting on Tuesday morning, be confused about why I, as a new delegate, was not allowed to sit in on the closed meeting, then leave in something of a huff (or a minute and a huff, as Groucho might say).  It should take about 5 minutes tops, they told me.
So, in to the Delta I go on Tuesday, and into the Elfin Pekaha room, where, sure enough, a board meeting was taking place.  There were probably about 40 or 50 people, mostly men, sitting around a square of tables, doing, you know, important (to them) work.  I interrupted them.  I figured I'd be nervous doing this, but nervous in an actorly way.  In reality, though, I became really nervous because I was interrupting their meeting.  I could really sense the bother I was causing these people.  I fealt really uncomfortable.
The room went totally dead-quiet when I first entered.  I went to the snack table and thought about pouring myself a coffee, but couldn't find a carafe.  So I abandoned that idea and started to look around the table for an empty seat.  That's when the Chairman (who was the only one "in on" the joke) asked me, politely, what I was doing there.  That's when the nerves hit me, because everyone was looking at me, and a definite air of being-bothered was in the room.  I said I was looking for a seat.  He said it was a closed meeting.  I told him "yeah, no problem, I'm a new delegate. I'm a member" and showed him my conference badge.  He said this meeting was only open to member of the board. I didn't understand what that meant.
I continued to play dumb for a minute and he continued to ask me to leave.  Someone got up and left ("to get security?" I wondered/hoped).  Finally, I "got the message" and promised to leave.  I apologized to the room for being an idiot and said I'd leave.  I kept apologizing and the chairman kept telling me to leave.  I then changed my slant and said it didn't seem fair that I couldn't sit in, and wondered what kind of secret stuff they'd be talking about that I shouldn't hear.  "It's a closed meeting, you'll have to leave" he kept saying.  "Can I at least get a juice?" I asked. That got a laugh.  Kind of a "what a pathetic tit" laugh.   "Sure" he said.  As I was getting a juice, one of the board members, who was near me, said "What boat did you just get off of?", kind of as a joke to his compatriots, not really to me.  I replied.  "No I didn't get hear by boat, I came by plane, and those friggers lost my luggage."
Anyway, I finally left, and it took maybe 4 minutes tops?  Seemed to go well, I thought.

The next event I was scheduled to punk was the First-Timer's Reception on Wednesday night.  Basically, show up, get people to look at me, and then leave.  That's what I did.  I shook people's hands, approached and interrupted groups in conversation with awkward conversation starters of my own.  I was in and out in about 10 minutes, just like they asked.  As I was leaving the hotel, I was walking past The Club (a small bar/llounge in the Delta).  It was packed with MCAC delegates.  A trio of them, near the door, saw me (they were board members and remembered me from that meeting), and called me over to them.  I could sense, from their questions, that they were trying to figure out if I was real or not.  I had decided to use a variation of my Moe Gorman voice, as it was one I was sure I'd be able to keep up for long periods of time, if need be.  Unfortunately, it kind of comes off as a bit "maritimey".  One of the guys picked up on that and asked me "if you're from Whitehorse, how come you have that accent?"  "I moved to Whitehorse 17 years ago" I said without missing a beat. "Originally I'm sort of from the maritimes.  Guess I can't lose the accent."  I was quite pleased with this lie, but kicking myself for the "sort of" vagueness.  Sure enough, one of them says "what do you mean, 'sort of'?  How can you be sort of from some place?"  I began to hem and haw a bit, on the technicalities of time spent in one place and how perhaps the place you have lived the longest is the place you're from...  beads of flop-sweat being born on my brow.  Hemming and hawwing, until the third guy gruffly says "Where were you born?"  Sydney, Cape Breton I lied.  "Then that's where in the hell you're from" he said definitively, killing the conversation.  I am-scrayed from them as soon as I could.

Thursday, I was scheduled for three appearances.  First one at 7:15am, as people were milling around waiting for the breakfast event (at which Ron MacLean was guest speaker!!) to begin.  I brought my camera for this one and basically just kept coming up to groups of people, couples, people by themselves and asking them where they were from (I didn't have my own glasses on, so I couldn't read that information that was on their conference badges).  My goal, I said, was to try and get a picture of myself with someone from each province in Canada.  This seemed to work quite well, and got me interacting with a bunch of people.  I was supposed to do that for 10 minutes or so, and it worked out perfectly.  My camera's batteries died after about 10 minutes and that gave me the perfect excuse to "go back to my room and get new batteries" rather than enter into the breakfast room.

Second gig that day was the Companion's Tour.  I was supposed to try and take the Companion's Tour (on 3 Trius motor-coaches), but then end up not taking it.  This event didn't work out so well for me.  I was supposed to show up at 8:45 and talk it up with the delegates Companions (mostly women) about the tour and stuff.  Trouble is, nobody was waiting for the couches.  Slowly, women started to trickle in (from the breakfast) but it was pretty awkward to try and start up conversations with them.  It's easier to be kind of jerky when there are more eyes watching, I realised.  When it's one-on-one like I was trying at this moment, it felt pretty creepy.  Eventually, one of the coaches got filled up, and I went on it and took a seat, asking anyone and everyone if they thought they'd mind if I, who was not a companion, took the tour anyway.  After chatting up the women around my seat on the coach, and just before they were about to leave, I "happened" to ask when the tour was over.  3pm I was told.  That was too late for me, I said, and awkwardly made be exit from the bus.  I was only supposed to spend about 10 minutes at this event, but because of the trickling of the companions, it ended up being about 25 minutes.  It went okay, but was my least favourite of the week.

The third that day was an appearance I was to make at the Suppliers' Showcase on the Mezzanine.  30 or so booths set up in rows up and down a couple of hallways.  I was basically to show up and visit each booth, ask stupid questions and be a bit of an annoyance.  And that's basically what I did.  I found it kind of tricky to get away from some booths without them asking me specifics about my company (to see, I assume, if I was worthwhile "pitching" to).  Even a cursory probe from them would've made them quite aware that I didn't know what the hell I was doing.  Luckily, I got away pretty much unscathed.

This morning at 7:30 was the Awards Breakfast.  I arrived and returned to my taking a picture with someone from each province routine.  I was looking for anyone from Quebec, the only province I still needed, so this allowed me to quickly go from table to table asking if anyone was from Quebec, and explaining my goal.  This worked very well in getting me around to as many people in a short time.
Then it was time to eat.  I played it pretty quiet during breakfast, as I didn't want to get into conversations with the other 7 people at my table for fear of blowing my cover.  After breakfast was eaten, awards were handed out.  For 10, 15 years service, Lifetime achievement, etc.
The final award was a new award for them, sure to be very prestigious, to be given out to a deserving member of the association. It was going to be given to me, I was told.  Then the MC told the room about this person's accomplishments, and the accomplishments were very impressive:  $400 million in income last year alone, 30% profit over blah blah blah.  People were very impressed with the numbers and statistics that were being spouted.  This person's business was hugely successful was the gist.  Then:  "The 2005 "Gotcha" award goes to... Stanley Theman!  Stan the Man, come up and get your award."  With the word Gotcha, the whole room, I'm sure, caught on if they hadn't already.
I went up and received my award - a rubber chicken - said thanks, etc, revealed my real identity and then promptly left.

And that was that.
What a wierd gig.  It was fun, but still through the week a fair amount of worry on my part, wondering what in the hell might go wrong at my next appearance, afraid of going too far and making it overly obvious that Stanley was a gag, or worrying about playing it too subtle and not making a big enough impression on enough people.  It's a pretty delicate balancing act, trying to be out there enough so that people take notice of you, but no so out there that you're not believable.
I had a good time though.

NFL Picks - Week One

The Dolphins won, so I don't really care about the pool.

Still,
I did pretty bad in week one of The Annekenstein Monster pool (where a huge 4 players are participating), going 6-10.  Good enough only for (a distant) second place behind jweale.  Right behind me sits Graham the conquerer at 5-11, and the "I don't want to play anymore" award goes to reverseflash with a paltry 2-14 record.

The first week is always pretty much a coin-toss (in a system where a coin toss can pretty much do better than me every week anyway), and now is the week where legitimate teams will begin to show themselves, and the fakers will fade.
I vow at least a 9-7 this week, or my name isn't Rob MacD.

If you'd like to join the fun (it's not too late - you're only two correct picks behind reverseflash), sign up at The Weekly NFL Picks Page and search for The Annekenstein Monster pool. Password is sketch22

Or, are you chicken?  Bwawk Bwawk Bwawk

The Blame Game: Tag, You're It!

Check out this quote from a Fox News commentary:

Every American kid should be required to watch videotape of the poor in New Orleans and see how they suffered because they couldn't get out of town. And then every teacher should tell the students 'If you refuse to learn; if you refuse to work hard; if you become addicted; if you live a gangsta life; you will be poor and powerless, just like many of those in New Orleans'.  That's the truth.

Holy shit!

from this quicktime movie link (you need to click-through a 'daypass' ad to access this on Salon, but it's worth it).

Pledge of Arbitrary Allegiance

It's stupid, really.
20+ some odd years ago, I became interested in NFL football. Because Dan Marino was a young phenom at the time, his rookie season, I decided to root for the Miami Dolphins.  Really, for no other reason than Dan Marino looked like a great qb and the Dolphins looked like they were ready to create a dynasty.
The choice stuck, and I've been a devout DolFan ever since.  Sometimes I rue that decision.
Sometimes I wish I could cheer for the New England Patriots.  It would make so much more sense for me.  All their games are televised on Boston tv stations, which I receive, so that'd be great.  I'd never have the dilemna of deciding whether or not to pay for NFL Sunday Ticket.  But I can't.  I can't cheer for the Pats.  For one, they're hated division rivals of the Dolphins.  For two, they're hated division rivals.
They'd be a great team to root for, though.  They've had their terrible seasons. Dreadful seasons.  And now, for the past 4 years, they've been on top of the world.  Oh how great it'd have been to be a Pats fan for the past 20 years.  Even to be on the opposite side of that sickening snowplow incident.  Oh how I'd love to be able to laugh at DolFans about that.  But I can't. I wasn't a Pats fan, and I won't be.  I'm a Dolphins fan.
But it's stupid, really.  What's happened to my brain, my phsyiology, that makes it impossible for me to root, really root, for any other team than the Dolphins?   It was such an arbitrary decision all those years ago, how can it have imbedded itself so deeply into me?
Now, I'm stuck with the NFL Sunday Ticket decision.  Pay money (much needed money) to watch the Dolphins lose probably 12 of 16 games this year?  That's a tough call.  I'll likely have to go upstairs to the booth (where my wife makes the final decision) on that one.  But what if they're the surprise team of the season?  How sweet would it be if Gus Frerotte gets injured in game one and Sage Rosenfels becomes the next Tom Brady?  Shouldn't I be there, watching and waiting for that highly improbable scenario.  Isn't 20+ years as a disillusioned and disappointed DolFan worth it?  I don't know.

Last night, the Pats played the Raiders.  The Raiders are a team I've hated (sorry Dylan) since in my mother's womb, I think.  I still hate them.  Last night, watching the parts of the game I watched, I really found it hard to pick a team to root for.  I think that's why I ultimately stopped watching it.  Friggin' Pats win it, of course.  I really thought Randy Moss, with that touchdown pass he caught, was gonna lead the Raiders to victory.  I suppose that's the outcome I was really wishing for, only because that outcome has a positive affect on my Sage Rosenfels wins the Super Bowl fantasy scenario.

Please forgive me.  I'm a Dolphins Fan. 
I don't know why.

Down, Set, Hut! Hut! Hut!

The NFL season begins this Thursday night.
Just a reminder to anyone who wants to join The Annekenstein Monster pick'em pool at The Weekly NFL Picks Page can do so.
You'll have to register (it's free, and there's no annoying email cultivation or anything like that), then once you do, search for The Annekenstein Monster pool and sign up.  The password is sketch22

Isis Oh Isis, You Mystical Terrorist

Bush Government Vows To Hunt Down Katrinal-Quieda Leader Known as “God”

With a handful of papers and documents under his arm that he claims show undisputed evidence of the connection between the devastation caused by the recent hurricane attack and a new Al Quieda off-shoot terrorist cell known as Katrinal-Quieda , White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan today vowed, on behalf of “the good and suffering people of America, and all the free world nations that are free and suffering along with us in our time of need and suffering and freedom”, to use all available military and intelligence resources to “hunt down and capture and kill the leader and all high-level members of the terrorist group, conveniently named and pictured here in this newest package of Terrorist Bubble-Gum Trading Cards” ™.

When asked by a reporter for the names of the terrorists in question, McClellan said “Well, we know they were in allegiance with Saddam Hussein, and right now we are concentrating on extrapolating that information from Saddam.  So far, we have four names.  First and foremost on the list, at the top of the list, is the terrorist known as God.  He has a number of aliases, of course, but here in America, he’s known as God.”

Research indicates that God has been suspected in many previous natural disaster attacks all over the world, including a massive world-wide flooding that devastated all of civilization except for one family and a menagerie of animals, led by a man who called himself Noah.

McClellan went on to warn that if any so-called Americans knew of God by any of his other aliases, such as Vishnu or Allah, they “could well expect to be visited for questioning and possible detention”.

Other terrorists that McClellan mentioned in today's press conference that “America is dutifully and single-mindedly searching for… well, single-mindedly except for, oh, what’s his name?  That other guy we’re supposed to be hunting, the one that claimed to be responsible for Saddam Hussein’s attacks on the World Trade Centres and Philadelphia?  What is it, I’m serious.  I honestly cannot think of his name now… Pretty sure it had, like, three names in it, kinda like Tiffany Amberson Thiessen.  It’s right there, on the tip of my tongue… Starts with ‘K’?...  I wanna say Kevin Bacon, but I know that’s not right… Osama!!!  Osama Bin Laden!!!  That’s it!!  It’s been so long since he’s even been mentioned anywhere, that I’ve almost completely forgotten his name.  And that’s funny, because he’s like a pretty serious dude we should be getting, right?  I mean, not as serious as Saddam Hussein, but still, not one to forget the name of.  Sorry ‘bout that,” are “an Iraqi named Poseidon, who we believe may have been responsible for the rising of the waters, and Thor, who most likely had something to do with the dramatic increase in wind.  The fourth of the terrorists we have a handle on is Isis. To be honest, we’re not really sure if Isis was involved, or really, what Isis would have done to assist in the devastation.  There are solid facts that indicate that Isis may have caused a snake to come out of the dust.  Possibly a snake full of weapons of mass destruction.”

At this point, Press Secretary McClellan allowed only one more question from the press corp, then drew two eyes and a nose on the side of his fist and began moving his thumb as if it were a lower lip, and asked himself, “Mr. McClellan, how serious is President Bush taking this latest attack against freedom, and how serious is he upset about the loss of life thus far?”, to which he replied “Well, President Bush is totally serious in his devotion to go after these guys in his total pursuit to save freedom, and is also seriously upset about the loss of life this far.”

The Agency for Homeland Security asks that anyone who may see God, or the other suspected Katrinal-Quieda terrorists, or anyone who looks suspicious or foreign, to immediately shoot them and then phone for cartage pickup.