rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

ooh. ooh, here’s a good idea.

”The people of Venezuela, not just the National Assembly, are giving this enabling power to the president of the republic,” said congresswoman Iris Varela, addressing the crowd. She then screamed, “Hooray! I’m obsolete!” and flashed the gathered throng of government supporters.

”We want to impose the dictatorship of a true democracy.”

right. if it works, somebody tell me.

edit: I just came back from lunch at the Owl, where the televisions either have ESPN, Fox News or Mexican soap operas on.
today was Fox News. they were talking about this. of course, outrage, and veiled predictions of the apocalypse. which is more or less a hysterical version of what I’m thinking, but it pisses me off, cause it’s the same news service that cheerleads whenever President Bush starts with his “I’m the decider” bullshit. everyone, assholes.

Germany issued warrants for the arrest of CIA operatives. seems like all of Europe is getting on the terrorist bus these days.
apparently, the good ol’ boys from the farm kidnapped a Lebanese-born Kraut while he was on vacation in the Balkans – vacation in the Balkans – and smuggled his freedom-hating ass to Afghanistan. they interroagated him for about six months, got nothing, and dumped him back in Albania. talk about a bad first date.

the last two paragraphs of the story fucking rule:

In December 2005, German Chancellor Angela Merkel said U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice acknowledged in a meeting in Berlin that Masri had been “erroneously taken.” But Rice and other U.S. officials have denied any fault or responsibility in the case.
Masri filed suit against the U.S. government in federal court in Alexandria, (home, sweet home) Va., in December 2005, but his complaint was dismissed last May on grounds that it could divulge CIA secrets and damage U.S. national security operations. Masri appealed the decision to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 4th Circuit in November.

it’s amazing to me that the rest of the world sees the United States as pompous and arrogant. fuck, why would they? “yeah, we kidnapped one of your citizens. but if he hadn’t looked so shifty, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. next time, tell him to leave his turban at home. go cry to someone else, we beat your ass in dubya-dubya two.”
and then, after you file a suit in American court to bring the bullshit the US government served you to the attention of the public, it tells you to fuck off; it’ll get in in the way of the ambiguous implementation of other creepy anti-terrorism laws. so yeah, sorry, Khaled. go tell it to Der Spiegel. maybe they’ll pay attention to your whining.

make note: I’m listening to “I can’t dance.” yeah, Genesis sucked after Peter Gabriel left, and they sucked pretty bad while he was with them, too, but that song is catchy. catchy, meaning, if you’re scanning the radio and the Lite FM station is playing it, you’ll figure, what the hell, it beats whatever bullshit sports talk or alternative rock is blathering on about.

alright. I got a hold of this whole “Weekend Ticket” thing.
it’s the weekly entertainment section of the paper. I got to think of a story, assign it, and imagine up a page-eating, attention-grabbing front for it.
this was the first week I had to do it on my own. after I shit the bed, the reporter came up with something about Super Bowl parties. but I’ve got a pretty decent idea for a graphic. so we’ll see how it works out. hopefully well.
the, uh, roomie has been a little grating over the past week. he got the power turned off today because he didn’t pay the bill – which I don’t understand, as I give him money for it every month – and he drinks all my beer. I’m being petty, I know, but come on; there’s such a thing as roommate etiquette. and I think, dare I say, that Greg may be a little Schreineresque.

Mar’s going clubbing in Budapest. go Mar. go.

I cleaned my bedroom for the first time in months today. it was never dirty, but always messy. still is. I don’t understand it; when I came out here, I purged the incredible amount of clothes that I never wear. I was down to mean week, week and a half worth of shit. and I’m back up to two, three weeks again. I just amass clothing that I never wear. I’m always in the same t-shirt, tennis shoes, ripped jeans. I dress like a fucking slob, man. and to be honest, fixing that has never been much of a priority. maybe it should.
I’m about a decade behind the grunge scene. holy shit, maybe I’m bringing it back.

it’s been an alright couple of days.
happy belated birthday, Smith. I hope you treated yourself to a special edition DVD of something.
the Holtville Rib Cook Off was on sat. I went. had some ribs. they were delicious.
I saw “Smokin’ Aces.” which was like “Kill Bill” and “Snatch” on speed. directed by Joe Carnahan. and like “Narc,” he’s not bad with dialogue, but is kind of iffy on plot and pacing.
I watche a show about primordial dwarves on cable. real. live. gnomes.
and I went to Mexicali Taco today. the carne asada torta is delicious. the cheese enchilada is not.

a Canadian was arrested at JFK while changing planes in 2002, shipped to Syria, and tortured for a year. it turns out, you know, he didn’t actually do anything. so three years later, he gets an official pardon and $10 million Canadian.

As he announced the settlement, Prime Minister Stephen Harper offered a formal apology today to Mr. Arar and his family for their “terrible ordeal.”
He also renewed calls for the United States to remove Mr. Arar from its terrorist watch list.
“Canada fully understands and appreciates and shares the United States’ concerns with regard to security,” Mr. Harper said. “However, the Canadian government has every right to go to bat when it believes one of its citizens has been treated unfairly by another government.”
The case has strained the otherwise cordial relationship between Mr. Harper’s Conservative government and the Bush administration.

and also:
Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales and Michael Chertoff, the homeland security secretary, have told Canadian officials that Mr. Arar is still on the watch list because of independent information about him that law enforcement agencies in the United States have obtained.
But after reviewing that confidential file, however, Stockwell Day, Canada’s minister of public safety, said that it contains “nothing new” that justifies blocking Mr. Arar from entering the United States.
Earlier this week, David H. Wilkins, the United States ambassador to Canada, publicly rebuked Mr. Day. “It’s a little presumptuous for him to say who the United States can and cannot allow into our country,” Mr. Wilkins said at a news conference in Edmonton, Alberta.

okay.
first, I wish I could be the ambassador to Canada. it’d be like living in Minot, only with diplomatic status. and secondly, if I were at that press conference, I would have cut his fucking mic — literally, cut the cord — and threatened to strangle him with it if that cocksucker tried to derail the converation any farther.

the Cheney family does not like Wolf Blitzer. at all.

“In a television interview that turned increasingly contentious as it wore on, Cheney rejected the gloomy portrayal of Iraq that has become commonly accepted even among Bush supporters.”

that’s true. this was early:
“The pressure is from some quarters to get out of Iraq,” he told CNN. “If we were to do that, we would simply validate the terrorists’ strategy that says the Americans will not stay to complete the task, that we don’t have the stomach for the fight.”

see? that’s only a little contentious. but a little coldhearted vitrol for Dick Cheney is like a light salad dressing. it’s just how he rolls.

this is later:
Cheney said Blitzer was advocating retreat. “What you’re recommending, or at least what you seem to believe the right course is, is to bail out,” the vice president said.
“I’m just asking,” Blitzer objected.
‘No, you’re not asking.”

and then:
… the CNN host mentioned that Cheney’s lesbian daughter, Mary, has become pregnant and asked whether he wanted to respond to conservatives who have criticized her.
“I’m delighted I’m about to have a sixth grandchild, Wolf,” Cheney said. “And obviously, I think the world of both my daughters and all of my grandchildren. And I think, frankly, you’re out of line with that question.”
Blitzer tried to defend himself: “I think all of us appreciate –” Cheney cut him off: “I think you’re out of line.”
“We like your daughters,” Blitzer replied. “Believe me, I’m very sympathetic to Liz and to Mary. I like them both. That was a question that’s come up, and it’s a responsible, fair question.”
“I just fundamentally disagree with you,” Cheney said.

oh, I’m sorry. you let your party elect you on a homophobia ticket, but you don’t want to talk about your fag daughter? cry me a river, you evil fuck.

this made me feel bad that I have a blog.
EPIC.

also: the Bears are in the Superbowl. really!

it’s 1:30 in the morning.
Greg’s buddy is here from Tucson. he’s an alright guy. you can tell, he’s a decent person. but he’s got a giant monkey on his back. and that would be Greg’s sister.
that’s how he and the mystery roommate met. this guy used to date the sister, and they recently broke up. he’s from Tucson by way of Canada, so he doesn’t really know anyone, and apparently, Greg’s sister decided to get back together with her estranged husband. kind of left my man out in the cold, but that’s the way it works. he hasn’t gotten over it. and as soon as he gets a few drinks in him, it’s all he wants to talk about. with anyone who will listen.
he’s in his mid thirties, balding, wearing a Hollister t-shirt. he makes bank as an exterminator, hourly, and is working toward his helicopter pilot’s license. and again, he’s a nice guy, but he’s a bit of a fuck-up. I mean, fuck. who does this? she’s married, man. and you’re bringing up your ex-girlfriend’s rack to her little brother.
I’m serious.
he’s also a Minnesota Vikings fan. that’s about right.
he came out here in October. and after a night of boozing in Mexicali that I’d rather forget, this lost-love Greg’s sister shit comes up.
when I got home from work tonight – about midnight – he was already hammered. and kept on bringing it up.
as we speak, it’s going on downstairs. he wants Greg to give him his sister’s phone number, so he can call her, now, up in Barstow. she lives up there with her husband and toddler.

every time I make too much out of a girl, pour an infatuation into someone, I’ll think of him.
I know I will.
it hasn’t so far, and I won’t let it ever come this.