Greggity

Among the puddles of urine-soaked garbage and discarded signatures of voluminous bowel movements in a dank and miserable alley, a grizzled, filthy man lay swaddled in newspapers and cardboard against a maggot-infested dumpster. Reeking of gin, semen and the most intensely foul odor of any animal not yet dead for at least three weeks or more, the unconscious swiller of booze blocked the sun from his eyes with a greasy BDU cap bearing twin silver stars.

Roused from his sleep by warm pigeon shit splattering on his right ear, he sat up with a groan and a “Fuck you, full bird!” As the searing pain of hangover began to split his head he sat up and reached for his “breakfast” bottle.

He tilted the bottle of cheap gin all the way to the high noon sun and gulped what turned out to be merely 20% gin, 5% backwash and 75% urine…not counting the dead gnats, mosquitoes, maggots and beetles, of course.

The vile mixture quickly sprayed from his mouth and he stared at the bottle as if it had failed to render unto him his due respect and hurled it to the side where it landed in a pile of excrement with a splat.

He scrambled to his feet and peered into the dumpster for the bundles of newspaper the lazy local paper boy tossed in lieu of performing his morning duty. He tugged at a paper until it became free of the bundle and scanned the front page for any mention of his own name.

“Holy fucking Christ! It’s 2009? It’s been 20 fucking years!” He shouted to no one in his vicinity. “When will this nightmarish trek end?”

To be continued…

I have learned so much in this past year of brewing (controlling pH of the mash, better fly sparging, dry hopping, wet hopping…to name a few) that despite my claim when brewing my big barley wine last summer (which I will say more about at the end) I can honestly say again that I have never been more excited about any beer I have brewed than the IPA I brewed this past Monday.

Well into my 15th year of brewing, I have asked myself many times why I have never attempted an India Pale Ale, my favorite style of beer. Whenever I am trying out a new brewery’s line of beers, that is usually the first one I sample. Among my favorite beers in the world in fact, are Bell’s Two Hearted Ale, Three Floyd’s Alpha King, Dogfish Head’s 60 and/or 90 minute IPA, Upland’s Dragonfly, Mad Anthony’s IPA…etc…

Although the beers I made last summer with fresh hops a la Steve Papai were unique recipes, I did have some help predicting the amounts of grains and hops I would need to reach the gravity and bitterness (IBUs) I wanted. This time around the recipe is completely my own. I did all the calculations myself and formulated this awesome recipe.

As I write this my delicious young brew is percolating away in the fermenters, becoming what I’m sure will be my first entry into homebrewing competition later this year. I will post more on this gorgeous ale as it matures.

As for the barley wine I mentioned earlier, I announced a contest back in August for what was, and still is, my finest invention to date…however I never posted the information about the winner. My favorite entry came from my old Army buddy Jeff Amling who suggested “Stumblinfeller’s Lizzard Ale.”

That wasn’t a typo. Lizzard was my nickname in the Army and I used to write a weekly column about music called “Lizzard’s Licks.” Jeff, a fellow journalist, and I would pass any downtime we had (AKA: fucking off when we’re supposed to be working) by altering already written news stories about various commanders and other characters from Fort Campbell, KY and the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault!).

Stumblinfeller was the nickname we once gave to the then Commander of the 101st. A Major General whose name now escapes me, but who (in our fantastic tale) was struggling through a hellish nightmare of alcoholic hallucinations, vomiting and loss of bodily functions, praying endlessly for an end to this nightmarish trek.

So there you go. Jeff has earned himself a (one) bottle of Stumblinfeller’s Big Lizzard Ale and one bottle from every batch I brew of it in the future, which I plan to make an annual event at the time of hop harvest.

“We have a rendezvous with destiny
Our strength and courage strike the spark
that will always make men free
Assault right down through the skies of blue
Keep your eye on the job to be done
We’re the soldiers of the 101st
We’ll fight ‘til the battle’s won!”

I can’t believe I’m still hearing this shit about Christians wanting to teach our kids “alternative theories” (to evolution) in public schools. This of course means preaching irrational, illogical and idiotic creationism stories conceived by primitive people thousands of years ago who hadn’t even learned how to pipe shit out of their houses yet.

This idea was pushed by our retarded ex-president as a wedge issue to energize his conservative base. Not that I’m suggesting he was being disingenuous. I’m sure in his tiny fucking brain it made perfect sense to bring magic and superstition into a place that is meant to teach children facts based on scientific research…about as much sense as teaching them how to pronounce the word nuclear.

So since this stupid fucking idea still hasn’t died, I would like to suggest theories other than evolution that should be challenged by “alternative views” so that our children can “make up their own minds.”

It’s been over 500 years since Columbus proved the world was round, but perhaps we should let the children decide if it is in fact still flat. There may be a lot of evidence to the contrary, but if it doesn’t apply to the theory of evolution, why should it apply in this case?

Perhaps we need to better inform our children of alternative views so that they may someday avoid the peril of falling off the end of the Earth.

Despite our many advances in medicine over the past few hundred years, how do we know germs really exist? I mean, if you can’t see it maybe it isn’t there. Maybe it’s just an evil spell cast by an ungodly witch or a small dwarf living in your stomach. How can we be sure that most ailments are not best treated by a good blood-letting or exorcism?

The point is, you can believe whatever you want, but I’m not paying taxes to have the public schools fill my kids heads with bullshit. That’s what church is for. Faith is based on belief, not on something that can be proven. If it could be proven, you wouldn’t need faith.

Evolution has been proven. Deal with it. If it doesn’t reconcile with your belief system, don’t try to reassure yourself by trying to fool innocent children into buying into too. Maybe it’s possible to have faith AND be rational.

Then again, maybe not. I wouldn’t know.

Due to my long bout of writer’s block, I’ve missed out on many important topics over the past year or so. I thought it would be good to do a bit of catching up. So here we go…

George Carlin has a new HBO special that’s edgier than ever! He’s a fucking genius! Oh shit, he’s dead. Dixon wins the 500. Bush is still retarded. Hilary double-crosses Obama in Michigan and Florida. Damn, it’s not Michael Palin…it’s some idiot bitch. Russia from my house. Fuck Joe the plumber. Lame Leman Brothers. Citibank needs a few billion and a new corporate jet. Greggity seems to be right about the impending 2nd Great Depression. Mavericks! Cheney masters the dark side of the force. Greggity is brewing his ass off. This one! Let’s give billions to the ultra-rich and call it a bail-out! Bush is still retarded. Obama!!! Fuck Yah!!! Dungee retires. Gruden gets fired. 2008 is over…thank god! Inaguration day = “Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead!” No more torture. No more secret CIA prisons. No more Gitmo. Obama reaches out to Republicans. House Republicans to Obama: “Thanks, but Fuck You!” Edge finally goes to the Superbowl, but no Lombardi. Bush is a retired retard. Biggest snow in 10 years. Greggity’s ass freezes off. Pass the Haggis! Must kill Punxsutawny Phil!

Well, tomorrow morning I will have completed my 40th trip around the sun.

Who’d a thunk it? I don’t feel 40. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything lately.

I think it’s a function of age…the onset of apathy, that is. When I was young and idealistic I used to care about stuff. Some things seemed really important and worthy of my passion, but the older I get the more I realize I don’t have much impact on the world around me.

We live in a democratic republic, which is a form of government that placates the populous with the notion of control. We think our vote counts. We think our opinion counts. We think that by going out and buying crap we don’t need with money we don’t have is a great freedom to improve our lives in all sorts of little ways.

The truth is it’s all just a mind game we play with ourselves. Control is an illusion and everything that seems really important to us is just something that won’t matter to anyone in another 100 years…maybe 200 years.

We just float through life, trying each day to deal with the challenges that come at us. Sometimes it’s a cakewalk. Sometimes it tests our deepest inner strengths. But we don’t usually get to choose the changes life throws at us. We only get to choose how we deal with them.

So where is the control? It’s really all very random.

As for what’s important, I know there is nothing I’ve done in my life that matters to anyone else nor will it ever…with one exception.

…well, two. My kids.

As a father I’m helping to shape their lives, their character and the future. Sure, they will be their own people, but the quality of their childhood will shape not only the rest of their lives but the way they raise their children. I’m trying my best to pass on the values my parents gave to me and to prepare them for the challenges they will face throughout their lives.

That’s a pretty awesome responsibility, but they make it a lot of fun. So when you raise a drink to commemorate the 40th Curt-mas, make a toast to my favorite people in the whole world…Oliver and Fiona.

Cheers!

I have kept quiet about the presidential race all through this year’s election because I not only didn’t want this blog to descend into a political forum of partisan bickering, but also because I didn’t want to jinx my man Barack with my endorsement.

It has been an emotional and exciting week for America and has gone a long way toward restoring my faith in my country. I finally feel compelled to share my thoughts.

As a middle-aged white man, no one cares to hear my opinions regarding race. There is no way someone like me can ever understand the plight of a minority people who have struggled against overwhelming oppression and bigotry for hundreds of years.

Actually, I did get a taste of it once. When I served in the Army I was stationed at Fort Buchanan, Puerto Rico. This was the dream assignment for the thousands of Puerto Ricans serving in the U.S. Army, but being only one Company-sized Active Duty unit the slots are very hard to come by. Therefore, by the time most have managed to get that assignment they have made the Army a career for many years and have climbed the ranks.

As a result, the entire chain of command and most of the company were Puerto Rican. We white boys were the minority and I did experience some discrimination as a result.

I’m not complaining or comparing my experience with that of African-Americans and I love the Puerto Rican people. But my point is, it was a great education for me to experience what it’s like to be in the minority.

I have to honestly say that Barack Obama’s race never once entered my mind. It was clear to me from the very beginning of the primary campaign that he was the smartest candidate and the best suited for the office of President.

In fact, the whole issue of race never really occurred to me until I saw how moved African-Americans were by his election and listened to his eloquent acceptance speech which is sure to go down in history as one of the greatest.

It was then that the greater historical significance of the moment dawned on me. I was thrilled just to have the most inspiring candidate in my lifetime get elected to the highest office, but had never considered how much more it meant to so many…and really to all of us.

I hope that one of the messages African-Americans can take away from this is that the majority of us are like me, in that we don’t see things in black and white. Those days are gone. Sure, there are still racists among us and there will probably always be those who have a propensity for hatred, but this election showed that THEY are now the minority.

We all come from somewhere else…well, except for the Native Americans who were probably subjected to the worst treatment of any minority group by the U.S. government and are still marginalized and disenfranchised. But being an American means a lot more to me now than it did on Monday. It doesn’t matter where we come from whether it’s Europe, Africa, Asia, Latin America, or Betelgeuse. We have finally risen above those divisions and showed the world we are better than that.

As an afterthought, there is one thing that sets my race apart from all others. I would like to point out the irony (regarding white supremacists) that those who are most proud to be white are the ones that white people are most ashamed of.

I’m close to making my decision on a running mate, but for now I wanted to let you know that yard signs and bumper stickers are now available at the unbelievably high price of $250 each. Just contact me with your orders and as far as you know, you will be receiving them in no time.

Here are some of the slogan options you have to choose from:

Vote for Greggity and the world will know peace…we won’t have it, but we’ll know it

Vote for Greggity and he won’t murder your family in their sleep

And of course:

Vote for Greggity or everything is your fault

I am open to any other suggestions you may have.

With the election only two weeks away, I realize that I haven’t offered any empty promises or vague solutions to the many challenges facing this country. So for those of you out there holding Greggity rallies and get-out-the-vote canvassing for the obvious best write-in candidate for president, here are a few talking points for you:

I promise to end world hunger within the next four years and this is my plan. If you’re hungry, eat something. If you can’t afford to buy some food, ask for a handout on a street corner, interstate on-ramps. Fail that, steal food from some large faceless grocery chain or check in their dumpsters out back. If you live in a part of the world where there is no food, move to somewhere that has food. If this is not a realistic option, kill yourself.

I promise to end corruption within the U.S. Government within the first year of my administration. My first act in office will be to issue an executive order that anyone found guilty of corruption will be tarred and feathered and then placed in the stocks in front of the capital building for no less than 30 days and nights. During this time anything taxpaying citizens want to do to them or insert in them, will be allowed and encouraged.

I promise to make health care free to all U.S. Citizens. I will accomplish this with several magical incantations and spells.

I promise to end the war in Iraq. I will accomplish this by giving free chocolates to all Iraqis and send them flowers on their birthdays.

I promise to end dependence on foreign oil. All fossil fuels will be banned and America will be forced to find a better source of energy. The oil companies have made their money…fuck ‘em.

I will grant each family three wishes. You can wish for anything you want except for more wishes. These wishes will not be tax deductible however.

I will end the war on terror by winning it quickly and decisively. I will institute several suicide bomber brigades of our own. Their job will be to infiltrate the ranks of Al Qaeda and take them out using their own tactics. We have plenty of depressed and suicidal people here in America. I plan to make good use of them.

I promise to achieve World Peace within my first four years in office. I will declare to the world “You are either with us, or you’re with us.”

I mustn’t forget the financial crisis we are now in. I will dissolve all of the financial institutions in the country and institute a “Finders Keepers” policy of home ownership. If you’re living there now, it’s yours. I can’t see any flaw with this policy at all.

So don’t forget to write me in on your ballot November 4th and remember…

If you don’t vote for me, everything is your fault!

Disclaimer:
I have to preface the following comments on this obligatory topic by saying I have the utmost respect for firefighters and police who selflessly gave their lives on 9/11/01 as well as those who put their lives on the line every day in service to their fellow citizens. I also wish to offer my heartfelt sympathy to the families of those who lost loved ones on that tragic day.

Now…that said, let me be blunt. Greggity blunt.

‘Tis that time of year most beloved by the incompetent leadership of this country. Their favorite day of the year. The day they get to remind us all of the horrors of that day. The day they get to reaffirm the terror they have exploited ever since.

I’m sure Dick Cheney and Karl Rove awoke this morning with a magical lift in their stride, like a child coming downstairs on Christmas morning to find what Santa has left them. I imagine their rosy cheeks and double chins aglow in the wonder of yet another 9/11.

“Oh how wonderful it would be if we could see it all happen again,” they would coo as they cup each others scrotums in loving embrace. “No matter how vile and despicable our actions, the whole of America was awash in proudly flapping flags and quivering reverently at our feet like frightened puppies being dragged into the veterinarian’s exam room to be euthanized.”

Then, like optimistic poverty stricken masses scraping together the week’s pocket change to buy one hopeful lottery ticket, they begin to fantasize on the many ways they could spend such political capital.

“Who would you invade, if you got your wish and a few thousand more insignificant sheep were slain today?” Rove would ask with a twinkle in his eye and a girlish giggle.

“Ooooh…the possibilities are endless!” Cheney would gush. “I could so go for an Iran war right about now. But then again, maybe we could throw them a real curve ball and hit someone less suspecting like Pakistan! …or even Venezuela!

“How about you, Rovie?”

“I’m thinking (dramatic pause…) Russia!”

“Oh my god! I am so hard right now!” Cheney would sigh, beginning to quiver as the two began to disrobe while lost in a passionate kiss.

They would then spend the rest of the morning compacting each others’ fecal matter in front of a 60” TV while CNN replayed the footage of planes crashing and towers falling.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. Does anyone else see this?

Hops, hops, wonderful hops.

Oh how I love hops! Cascade, Fuggles, Centenials, Amarillo, Chinook, East Kent Goldings, Saaz, Hallertau, Liberty and Mt. Hood…I love them all. What a delightful lupulin-packed flower.

Last week I had the good fortune of being able to harvest about four pounds of beautiful Cascade hops, thanks to the generosity of amature hop-farmer Steve Papai. I geeked out under the vines until it was too dark to see any more of the green lovelies.

I then concocted my own recipe for the ultimate pale ale and set about the task of brewing this past Sunday. What came out of it may not only be the best beer I’ve ever brewed, but quite possibly THE GREATEST BEER EVER BREWED!

As immodest as this claim may sound, I make this proclamation with a high degree of confidence having only tasted the pre-fermented wort (beer minus yeast). This high-gravity elixir already presents itself with multiple citrus aromas (lemon, lime and grapefruit) a la Simcoe, Sorachi Ace, and Cascade hops…it then delivers a complex, nutty body hinting at oats.

I can’t wait to see what magic the ale yeast works with this beer, but with a potential alcohol content of 11 percent (realistically more like 7 to 9 percent), it should pack quite a wallop.

I’ve been brewing beer now for 14 years and I can honestly say that I’ve never been more excited about a beer than I am this one. For one thing, this recipe is 100 percent original. It is MY beer. I didn’t get it out of a recipe book, or a web site or a kit. That in itself is exciting enough, but I’m also using whole, fresh hop flowers, an all-grain mash in a mash-tun I constructed myself with a chest cooler and some pvc pipe, my first big, healthy, happy yeast starter, and some new and improved sparging techniques.

I know some of that stuff doesn’t make any sense to those of you who don’t brew, but its brew geek talk for “w00t!”

So being that this is MY beer in every sense of the word, it is up to me to give it a name. Alas, I am at a loss. I think the original idea a la Dave “DFE” Edington was “Loopy Lupulin Ale.” It was my idea, but Dave was the loopy one.

However, I have decided to put it out there to you, the reader. Give me your ideas. If you can give me a better name for my beer than Loopy Lupulin Ale, I will reward your creative input with a (1) bottle of this, the greatest beer ever brewed as well as a bottle from each subsequent batch I make of this recipe in the future.

Let me have it, the reader.

With the Democratic Convention coming up this month I suddenly realized that I’ve left you all hanging with regard to my endorsement.

Well, for any of you who have read my past posts its fairly obvious which candidate I’m going to endorse, but here is some relief for those of you who are feeling a twinge of panic as the question bounces around in your head, “who would Greggity have me vote for?”

My candidate is of course, Greggity. The following are my insightful and undeniable reasons I should be written in on your ballot come November:

1.) I’m damn good looking. This is a stupid reason to vote for anyone, but as you should know by now many, many Americans are in fact, stupid. If you yourself are stupid, vote for me for this reason. If you require a more intelligent reason, read on.
2.) I’m an independent. To borrow an analogy from the late genius Bill Hicks, the Democratic and Republican parties are two puppets held by the same puppet master. I have allegiance to no one but my own narcissism and power-mad megalomania. Unlike their two respective candidates, I vow to NEVER work with either party to reach a consensus. I will be stubborn and close-minded because I insist on either getting my way or accomplishing nothing…which is the way the government has been run for as long as I can remember anyway.
3.) I am anti-war. I will be able to cut taxes by 80 percent across the board because I will stop feeding the military industrial complex with American taxpayer money. There is really no one out there who poses a real threat to us and there would be a lot less people in the world who hate us if we stopped threatening them.
4.) I won’t waste time on wedge issues. I personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about gay marriage, flag burning, immigration, or doping in professional baseball. In fact, I have nothing else to say about these subjects or any other that has nothing to do with what really matters to most of us.
5.) I’m apathetic about most things. It doesn’t matter where I stand on health care or the economy because Congress will be gridlocked on any important issues most of the time and when they do manage to do something they usually only make things worse. So why should I give a shit?

There are five (four) good reasons to vote for me. If you don’t vote for me, everything is your fault.

“The liberty of the individual is no gift of civilization. It was greatest before there was any civilization.” – Sigmund Freud

As pretentious as it may be to quote Freud, these particular words have been bouncing around in my head a lot lately.

What really is liberty? Is it an absolute? (In other words, you are either free or not free…)

Or is it something that can be portioned out? Can you be free with limitations? Can there be varying degrees of liberty?

I think it is all relative, just like the concepts of safety and reality. I mean, reality is perception and that’s a whole other topic for another day, but one thing the concepts of safety and liberty have in common is that they are merely illusions.

To suggest that the state (or anyone for that matter) could deliver safety and security to anyone else is to suggest that they can control chaos. By definition chaos cannot be controlled. Therefore all of the measures taken for the sake of “protecting American citizens” are at best empty promises. The fiasco that followed hurricane Katrina showed us that.

We are supposed to accept as fact that the reason 9/11 happened was because the government didn’t have ENOUGH power to prevent it. Therefore we all just agree that they should have MORE power to violate our privacy and our civil and human rights so that they may protect us from chaos.

Are we giving them enough power to protect us from magic? What about Super Novas? What if our sun were to explode tomorrow? Does our government have enough power to keep us safe?

This concept is no more ridiculous than protecting us from terrorism. But we buy it. Why?

Maybe because the corporately-owned media told us it made sense. Maybe because we were so scared we were willing to believe anything. Maybe we’re all idiots.

Maybe a little of each.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about liberty lately what with all that’s going on with the anti-China protests around the world.

Our retarded president plans on attending the Olympic games in Beijing in spite of all the international attention on China’s human rights violations. He said the games are “about athletics, not politics.”

The fact is, for him to attempt to speak out against human rights violations would be so hypocritical that China would have to call him on it…and we can’t have that.

Of course it’s not at all hypocritical for a “Pro-Life” president to turn a blind eye toward a government that made abortions mandatory for pregnant women who already had one child.

My bottom line is, freedom doesn’t really exist. It is an illusion. We are all slaves. We all have rules we have to live by and just like in China, if we say the wrong thing to or about the wrong person we will be tortured and killed. That is not freedom.

If any of you disagree with me then please, feel free to explain to me in what way exactly are we free?

Here is today’s “Greggited” news story concerning the Fed cutting a key interest rate in a vain attempt to put the brakes on our descent into the next great depression. The original story was published on FOXNews’ FOXBusiness site, which you can read by clicking this link:

FOMC Slices Key Interest Rate by 0.75%; Fed Funds Rate Now 2.25%

The Federal Reserve on Tuesday continued its illusion of efforts to ward off a recession or worse by slashing three-quarters of a point off a key interest rate.

The move clearly reflects the Fed’s belief that it needs to do all it can to help alleviate fears that the economy has fallen and can’t get up, as well as it’s own delusion that it has the ability to do so at this point.

Prior to the announcement, economists and Wall Street traders were in disagreement over the size of the Fed’s move. But few believed the Fed would swerve from its aggressive approach toward righting the recent economic downturn. In other words, it was a bunch of yap with no substance.

“Fed officials are in full crisis mode and are striving to appear to be preventing a collapse,” said Maury N. Harris, chief economist at UBS.

Members of the Federal Open Market Committee, led by Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke, voted 8 to 2 in favor of the cut. In a statement released after the move was announced, the committee reasoned that the “outlook for economic activity has become unbelievably shitty.”

“Growth in consumer spending has slowed and labor markets have softened. Financial markets remain under considerable stress, and the tightening of credit conditions and the deepening of the housing contraction are likely to weigh on economic growth over the next few quarters,” the members added. “In other words, we’re fucked.”

Still, inflation was on the minds of the committee — a concern that may have prevented a full point cut, which had been expected by many on Wall Street whose pants are already packed full of feces.

The 75 basis point cut will translate immediately into lower rates for consumers and businesses as banks cut their prime lending rate by a similar amount and the value of the U.S. dollar plummets to that equal to bathroom tissue (used).

Interest rate cuts are designed to prompt spending and push a stagnant economy toward growth, or at least to create the illusion that the Fed is capable of saving this sinking ship which is our economy.

“We’re in the middle of the worst part of the recession,” said John Silvia, chief economist for Wachovia. “It’s all downhill from here as we spiral into a depression.”

The federal funds rate, the interest that banks charge each other on overnight loans, now stands at 2.25%, down from 4.25% at the beginning of the year.

That was before global market turmoil in January prompted an emergency three-quarter-point cut on Jan. 22 and a half-point move eight days later, the biggest reductions in a single month in more than a quarter-century. Likewise, we have the worst president setting the economic agenda that we’ve had in the past two and a half centuries.

Financial markets have see-sawed in recent days, jarred by the collapse of Bear Stearns Cos. (BSC: 6.42, +1.61, +33.47%), the nation’s fifth largest investment house, which was undone primarily by greed.

Good news came in the form of JPMorgan Chase & Co. (JPM: 41.94, +1.63, +4.04%) decision to purchasing Bear Stearns at a fire-sale (aka: vulture) price on Sunday in a deal helped along with a pledge that the Fed would supply a $30 billion line of credit to back up Bear Stearns’ assets. They have offered nothing to back up Greggity’s assets.

That offer over the weekend was the latest move by a central bank that has been pulling out all of the stops, including using Depression-era procedures, to pump cash into the financial system, much like a man flailing his arms wildly as he plummets 1,000 feet to his death. The flailing of the arms does nothing, but he can’t help but flail.

“There is no reason for the Fed not to be aggressive,” Mark Zandi, chief economist at Moody’s Economy.com told the Associated Press. “The economy is in a recession, the financial system is in disarray and inflation is low. Also, they already have all the money.”

In other moves, the Fed last week announced that it would lend up to $200 billion of Treasury securities that it owns to investment banks starting March 27 for a period of up to 28 days in return for a like amount of the investment banks’ shunned mortgage-backed securities. The Fed also announced recently that it was boosting the size of special loans it has been making since December to commercial banks.

There are plenty of reasons to think they will not live up to this offer, but the psychological impact on the markets and consumers is what’s important here.

“I don’t know where the floor is and I don’t think the Fed knows either,” said Stuart Hoffman, chief economist with PNC Financial Services Group. “In fact, I’m so drunk right now I just pissed and shat myself.”

“And silence contagious in moments like these
Consumed me and strengthened my will to appease
The passion that sparked me one terrible night
And shocked and persuaded my soul to ignite”

I have become so frustrated and tired of the crap we are fed every day by the media that I have decided to do something about it.

The first of these is a story from CNN regarding the resignation of Adm. William Fallon as Chief of U.S. Central Command. If you want to see the story pre-Greggity Editing (Greggiting), you can click on this link:

U.S.: Resignation Doesn’t Mean Iran War

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) — U.S. Defense Secretary Robert Gates has a fetish dismissed as “ridiculous” by his wife, who claims to have engaged in role-playing activities dressed as Moe Sizlac from The Simpsons. Furthermore, Gates flailed his arms wildly and screamed as tears ran down his face while shrieking that any suggestion that the resignation of America’s military chief in the Middle East signals that the United States is planning to go to war with Iran is highly intuitive and if you don’t shut up about it “I’m telling.”

Adm. William Fallon had been serving raspberry tarts as chief of U.S. forces in the Middle East and Central Asia since 2007 until the supply of fresh raspberries suddenly dried up.

Adm. William Fallon resigned Tuesday as chief of U.S. forces in the Middle East and Central Asia after just a year in the post, citing what he called an inaccurate perception that he has an infinite supply of fresh raspberries. Although he is at odds with the Bush administration over Iran, Fallon said that has nothing to do with his ability to acquire fresh produce.

Fallon, the head of U.S. Central Command, was the subject of a recent Playgirl magazine profile that portrayed him as a transvestite in Iran, which the Bush administration accuses of trying to develop nuclear weapons despite having no evidence of this having undermined the U.S.’s human intelligence in the region when Vice President Dick Cheney outed former CIA agent Valerie Plame in retaliation for her husband blowing one of the Bush administrations outrageous WMD lies.

“Although I don’t believe there have ever been any differences about the objectives of our policy in the Central Command area of responsibility, the simple perception that there is makes it difficult for me to effectively serve raspberry tarts there,” Fallon said in a written statement.

In Washington, Defense Secretary Gates told reporters at the Pentagon he accepted Fallon’s resignation “with an erection.”
But, he added, “I think it’s the aphrodisiac properties of raspberries.”

“Admiral Fallon reached this difficult decision entirely on his own. I believe it was the right thing to do, even though I do not believe there are in fact significant differences between his red raspberries and black raspberries,” Gates said.

Gates said repeatedly that he was told to repeat that he believed talk of Fallon opposing President George W. Bush on military action against Iran was mistaken, although that repeated statement is “not at all accurate.”

Wouldn’t you like to make a buck?

Sure you would. Who wouldn’t?

What would you be willing to do for that buck?

Would you overcharge for a service that you’ve already automated and therefore requires no effort on your part. That seems reasonable. After all, you put the mechanisms in place for the process to be automated.

What about selling something you acquired for less than that buck? You’re entitled to a little profit. If the buyer doesn’t like it, he can go directly to the source like you did.

What if you’re earning interest on a loan you made to someone in a tough spot. They get help and you make a little money. Certainly no harm done there.

Maybe you manufactured something someone else wants. Of course you deserve to be paid for that…no matter what the product is or what it is used for.

What about murder? What if you were paid to kill someone? Does that seem right? You’re performing a service. Hmmm…or should morality come into play? Does morality have any place in business?

Okay, maybe you’re not killing someone but manufacturing a weapon that is made for the sole purpose of taking human life. The demand is there and you’re just filling the demand. There can’t be anything wrong with that. Also, the morality question is a moot point if used for self-defense. Everyone should have the right to defend themselves.

Perhaps you don’t even own the business that makes these weapons. Perhaps you’re merely investing your money in their stock so that you may profit off of their dealings. Perhaps the people those weapons are being sold to aren’t using them for defense. Perhaps they are using them for offense. Does morality then come into play?

If you happen to have enough money/influence that you can encourage the use of these weapons being used to attack and kill people, you could then increase your own income. There is no morality in business, right? Business is where you find it…right?

Where is the line drawn? Is there no line anymore between right and wrong?

War is business.

2nd Decree
All hail the verile and libidinous Soon-To-Be Emperor Greggity!
My second decree is that henceforth clothing shall be optional for all subjects within the Greggity Empire. That is to say if nudity is preferred, clothing shall not be required except for those people who have received a citation by the Imperial Aesthetics Police.

Citations may be given for the following infractions of the Emperor’s laws:
1.) Body fat that exceeds 10 percent of total body weight unless it is determined to be distributed in acceptable areas of the body. 2.) There is no acceptable area for men. 3.) Excessive body hair in places other than those which are consistent with the species. 4.) Underweight bodies on which areas that normally protrude are concave and the skeletal structure protrudes instead.

Additionally the Aesthetics Police will have the power to make judgement calls, reviewable by my Minister of Aesthetics. I am considering Bob Guccione and Hugh Heffner for this position, based on their long history of excellent judgement.

People with extremely unfortunate facial unpleasantness, yet bodies that meet the above guidelines will be encouraged to forego clothing as this will help distract eyes away from their faces. Monetary bonuses may even be instituted.

My philosophy concerning nudity is that we all can benefit from being unfettered and surrounded with beauty. Not everyone will be allowed into the breeding pits (where clothing is forbidden), so this may be the fairest decree of all. My generosity is being extended to those who are not genetically sufficient to enter the breeding program (which will be outlined in a future decree).

Anyone who has successfully lobbied for a citation to be rescinded must carry with them the proper paperwork signed by the Minister of Aesthetics, a picture ID, and fresh urine sample in the event that you are stopped again by the Aesthetics Police. How you choose to carry them while nude is up to you, but I strongly urge you to keep them dry (urine sample not withstanding).

Second violations will be punished by two months in a starvation/exercise camp, waxing camp, or force feeding camp depending on the nature of your crime. A third offense will get you a job in the salt mines

I had a dream last night that I shall become Emperor of the new Greggity Empire. Since I consider this dream to be prophetic, I shall now begin announcing decrees laying the groundwork for the laws with which I will govern.

I will not promise to be a fair ruler. I will not even promise to take the wishes of my people into consideration at all. My decisions will all be based on common sense and the good of the empire. You may be unhappy with them, but I will not be elected. I will not be president. I will be your emperor.

1st Decree
All hail the mighty and wise Soon-To-Be Emperor Greggity!
My first decree is to ban the sport of basketball. I mention this first because it is the most popular sport to be found distasteful to your Soon-To-Be Emperor and the one to be dealt with most harshly. All other time-wasting activities will receive more lenience.

The problem with basketball is that it gives young people a false hope that they too may someday earn millions by simply playing with their balls. Very few people actually become professional athletes, and those who do contribute nothing to society. Perhaps a little entertainment for those who enjoy watching this sport, but I personally find this sport to be among the least entertaining events to which one could be witness. I would rather watch the worst movie than the best basketball game.

The far superior sport of American Football is a game of strategy in which every play must be calculated and the worthless muscle heads engaging in the sport batter each other relentlessly resulting in a constant succession of injuries. I find this pleasing.

Basketball on the other hand, consists of nothing but a bunch of tall boys running back and forth, bouncing balls. The only strategy comes in the last two minutes of the game when the time clock must be used wisely.* The rest of the game is a waste of time.

Far too much time and resources are spent on this game. All High Schools and Colleges will be required to yield all of the money spent on basketball back into actually educating students so that subjects of the Greggity Empire may be less ignorant than those of the American Empire.

Those professional basketball players who have squandered their millions and are not able to retire at the time of my rise to power shall be evaluated to find a useful aptitude. If they have nothing to offer society they shall toil in the salt mines. We all need salt.

There are those who would argue (if I were willing to listen to arguments) that basketball is a way out of the “ghetto” for underprivileged inner-city youth and it gives them hope and keeps them out of trouble. My argument (if I were interested in arguing) would be that thugs are going to be thugs if that is their destiny. Look at our Indiana Pacers for example. Spoiling them with riches didn’t prevent their thuggery. There is always more room in the salt mines.

I have spoken.

*Additionally as part of my first decree the term “time clock” is redundant and displeasing to the Soon-To-Be Emperor. From now on it shall be referred to simply as the “clock.”

As a parent and an American citizen I have had enough! For years we have complained about our jobs being outsourced to foreign countries in the interest of large corporations pleasing their investors with higher profits. Their excuse was they had to do so in order to remain competitive in a global market.

We looked the other way while they profited from child slave labor. We looked the other way when our food began coming in poisoned because the foreign companies now doing our work had lower safety standards. We even seemed to look the other way this summer when we found out that 1.5 million Thomas the Tank Engine toys were painted with lead-based paint…and again a couple of weeks ago when Mattel issued a recall for millions more toys sold to Americans when this long-known poisonous substance was found in toys we bought for our children.

All the news media told us how hard it was to prosecute a foreign company, how they don’t fall under our federal safety regulations and how difficult diplomacy is with the Chinese.

And now it has happened again!

What no one (including the relatively unbiased Public Broadcasting System and National Public Radio) had the guts to ask was this: What about the companies who outsourced these jobs in the first place? The companies that are still making huge profits from selling these tainted products to American consumers. The companies such as MATTEL who simply issue a recall and blame it all on the incompetence of the Chinese THAT THEY HIRED TO DO WHAT WERE ONCE AMERICAN JOBS!

Fuck Mattel! It’s time to boycott! And I’m not just calling for a boycott on Mattel, but all of these companies who are not only complicit in these crimes, but DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THEM! What ever happened to Quality Assurance?

If they wanted the job done right, they should have kept the job in America where it was being done right in the first place. These traitorous, greedy bastards hired people with no scruples to do this work and by doing so put our children in peril.

Stop coddling these greedy corporations, America. This is the ugly face of global economics. This is why we need strict guidelines instead of the cold, oppressive regimes like the World Trade Organization forcing their will upon the world, exploiting the poor and disregarding human rights as well as consumer safety. It may be easy for you to say, “Who cares about the kids in Malaysia?” but now it’s affecting our kids too.

You’ve been on the sidelines for too long, America. That is how this outrage has been allowed to happen. That is what will allow it to continue until we stop feeding these monstrous corporations who could give two shits if our children are crippled by lead poisoning.

Boycott Mattel! Boycott outsourcing! When you buy a product that is recalled for reasons blamed on a country that produced said product, boycott the name on the label, not the country. THEY are the ones responsible!

This is my first sampling of brew from the Boulder Beer Company, which is a little bit outside the norm. Usually my first foray into a new Brewer’s lineup comes from an India Pale Ale that has caught my attention (my current favorite style, being the hop-head that I am).

I’ve heard good things about their IPA, but for some reason the Sweaty Betty Blonde caught my eye. Perhaps it was the longing for a light, thirst-quenching beer amidst the current sweltering heat wave, or perhaps it was the name. Sweaty chicks…hmm…we’re all sweaty now actually.

This beer calls itself a blonde ale, but it is actually brewed with wheat which at least puts it teetering on the fence between being a wheat ale and a blonde. Come on Boulder! What are you trying pull? They are two different styles!

The nose immediately announces the wheat. My first thought was a memory of Pyramid’s Hefe Weizen as I sniffed at the very thin head and took in the somewhat sour, fruity esters.

The weiss clove flavor comes through with the first mouthful as well, but then something peculiar happens; a surprisingly crisp, dry finish. How refreshing! Ahh…I needed a beer like this here on the surface of the sun.

Sweaty has a very light body that leaves no trace of lace on the glass, but is balanced with just enough hops to give it that dry mouth feel. That’s not something you usually experience with a wheat beer.

So I give up. I guess it can be both a wheat and a blonde.

I’m going to only give this beer three chugs out of five. It’s a good summer beer and would probably pair well with a bowl of pretzels or perhaps a fish entrée, but the wheat clove flavor leaves a bit of a sour aftertaste that would prohibit me from drinking more than three in a sitting. For most people that may sound like a lot, but I’m talking about how many I could drink…not necessarily that I would drink…but then I do love beer.

I’m impressed enough with Boulder Beer’s mad-scientist-like hybrid that I’m going to have to give their Mojo IPA a day in court…stay tuned.