Goodbye Saddam, Don't Come Back


Greetings puny Earthlings, last night Saddam Hussein, the former dictator of Iraq, met his fate when he was hung by the neck until death for a lifetime of crimes against his own people in the micro and the human race in the macro.

You can read all about the life of this walking tumor here.

Now, I'd like to discuss the overriding theme in Saddam's worthless life.


Saddam Hussein was a complete and utter failure at just about everything he did except seize power and hold onto it. And even then he'd have blown it if it weren't for the soft-headed mushiness of the international community.

You see, I'm a dictator, I rule quite chunk of the Universe, and my empire is constantly expanding and will soon consume your puny little planet, and I'm a bit of an expert on how to be a proper dictator. And as an expert on managing dictatorships there is nothing that sticks in my craw more than a complete and utter moron seize power.

Look at what Saddam has done. He lucked out and took over a country with massive and lucrative petroleum mines, and what does he do with this wealth?

Does he carefully manage it so his country and its citizens become immensely wealthy and powerful?


He squanders it on a series of wars that cost around a million lives and succeed only in reducing the power, prestige and wealth of his nation, leading ultimately to his own downfall and doing the air-ballet in some non-descript concrete room.

How stupid is that?

He takes over a country with a diverse population, and both planetary and galactic history has repeatedly shown that ethnically diverse nations make powerful empires, so what does he do?

He drops a goddamn deuce on over 80% of his population, leading to ethnic strife, attempts at genocide and the deaths of tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands.


He could have been the man who brought peace and order to an unruly patchwork of a nation, he could have turned his country into the foundation of a mighty empire, he could have at least had the goddamn garbage picked up on time.

But he couldn't even do that.

Simple administrative routines were simply beyond his grasp.

To cover his incompetence he started wars, filled mass graves with the innocent, squandered his nation's wealth and sovereignty, and then tried to sneak around sanctions by bribing the moribund and corrupt United Nations with his Oil for Palaces scam.

Oil for Food showed me exactly what an idiot Saddam could be. Who tries to save their own bacon by bribing an organisation whose very existence is based on its ability to do absolutely nothing of importance.

He'd have been better of wiping his butt with dollar bills and flushing them, would have had the same effect.

So today we note the passing of a truly malignant person for whom a hanging was honestly too good for.

I hope you read this Kim Jong-Il and Ahmadinejad.


Point/Counterpoint- Ford, Saddam & Christmas

TEKTAK- Greetings puny Earthlings and welcome to another edition of Point/Counterpoint. From the Right, as in correct, I'm Tektak F. Mechanoid.

SNOTGLOB- And from the Left, as in opposing everything that's right, I'm Snotglob T. Mutant.

TEKTAK- We start this edition on a sad note with the recent passing of former President Gerald Ford.

SNOTGLOB- I question the timing of that.

TEKTAK- Snotglob you ignorant hermaphrodite slut! What in the name of the Twelve Nostrils of Yur-Hin are you talking about?

SNOTGLOB- This just seems rather convenient for the whole Chimpy Bushitler-Jew-NeoCon Axis. I think they had him assassinated to get America's mind off the report of the Iraq Study Group.

TEKTAK- Are you on some sort of drugs, or is there another parasite in your brain?

SNOTGLOB- I don't think the drugs and my friend Nibbles are keeping me from seeing the truth!

TEKTAK- Nibbles?

SNOTGLOB- That's what I call my brain parasite.

TEKTAK- Oookay. Let's get back on topic. You honestly think the American President had a former president assassinated in order to distract attention from a month old report that just about everyone who isn't having their brain noshed on by a fecal parasite thinks is a load of Triskellian bogo-nuggets?

SNOTGLOB- They did the same thing to James Brown, because he knew too much.

TEKTAK- I'm not even going to go there. Our next topic is a happier one, Saddam Hussein's sentence to hang has been ratified, and his executioners have been ordered to get it done within the next 30 days.

SNOTGLOB- I think it's horrible what they're doing to poor Saddam. What did he ever do to deserve this other than stand up to imperialist American-Jew-Neocon Axis?

TEKTAK- He killed a lot of innocent people. He killed Kurds, Shiites, Sunnis, started wars with his neighbours, sponsored terrorism worldwide and did nothing else but spread misery and death.

SNOTGLOB- Yeah, but I read somewhere that he liked puppies. That has to mean something!

TEKTAK- If only you could understand the superhuman effort it takes to keep me from slapping you, I'd be anointed a saint. Now let's get back to work. The Christmas Season is on Earth and with it came the annual attacks on all things associated with the holiday's religious origins. One of the more egregious incidents involved a city official who got a cop to order a choir to stop singing Christmas Carols for fear of offending the skater Sasha Cohen. The official didn't realize that Miss Cohen was currently engaged in a tour of Christmas Tree lighting ceremonies that all involved carols being sung.

SNOTGLOB- I think the city official didn't go far enough. Those horrible war-criminal carol singers should have all been arrested.

TEKTAK- Do you see the complete and utter lack of logic behind the stance taken by you and that city official? It's like threatening to arrest Neil Diamond's band because they were going to back up his rendition of Irving Berlin's 'White Christmas.'

SNOTGLOB- I find all references to any religious tradition outside of Islam offensive because they might offend people who are atheist or Muslim.

TEKTAK- Really. So the potential to offend someone is enough for you to be offended?


TEKTAK- Well, I'm offended by you being offended by people of other faiths.

SNOTGLOB- But you're Jewish, and to a liberal like me, Jewish opinions don't count unless they're self-hating.

TEKTAK- I see your point. And that's all the time we have for today, and I'd like to say that I hope you Earthlings had a Merry Christmas, a Happy Channukah, and have a great New Year.


An Alien Xmas Carol -3

Pap, Present & Future
"Damn it," growled MoxArgon as he hit his bedroom floor with a thud. "This is getting annoying."

"Get your sorry excuse for an ass out here!" boomed a loud voice from the next room.

MoxArgon got up, dusted himself off, and fished out the plasma pistol he kept behind his collection of shrunken Andorian heads.

"I'm coming out," snarled MoxArgon, "and I'm packing heat!"

MoxArgon kicked open the open and aimed his pistol.

But he didn't shoot.

"My god," said MoxArgon in awe, "it's R. Lee Ermey!"

"That's right chucklehead," said Ermey with a commanding bellow, "you may remember from my role as the Sergeant in Full Metal Jacket."


"But I'm not here to talk movies," said Borgnine, "I'm here to save that sorry excuse of an underwear skidmark you call a soul!"

"So you're gonna show me how people celebrate Christmas?"

"Boy, you sure are smart you blue-b*lled p*ss-swimmer!" snarled Ermey. "Now put that gun away before I send it up your rectum sideways, pull the trigger and give you a Saskatchewan Socket Slam!"

"Yes sir," said MoxArgon putting the pistol in the pocket of his housecoat.

"Now we're going to see what a miserable little excuse for a condom leak you really are and you are going to pay attention, or swear, I will stick my foot up your ass, my fist down
your throat and give a Panamanian Turkey Roll," barked Ermey.

"Yes sir!"

"I can't hear you! Sound off like you gotta pair!"


Suddenly the room melted away and was replaced by a simple grey room. The walls were metallic, but dotted with rust. A lone humanoid woman worked hard at a stove.

"Where are we," said MoxArgon, "a photoshoot for 'Ugly Homes & Garbage Dumps?'"

"We're at the home of your employee Android CAI-7 Ratchet you smelly little maggot turd," screamed Ermey. "Now pay attention or I will pluck out both your eyes and give your skull a Mexican Mudslide!"

A small kitty flap opened at the door and in rolled the head of Android CAI-7.

"Honey," said the head as it rolled in, "I'm home."

"How was work today?" asked Mrs. Ratchet.

"The usual," answered Android CAI-7.

"Did you ask Mr. MoxArgon for a new body?"

"You know it's a very touchy subject, especially at this time of year," said the head as he rolled across the floor. "Where's Tiny TekTak?"

"I'm here father," said Tiny TekTak as he carefully limped into the room. He was a wretched looking little cyborg, coughing and wheezing. "Will Mr. MoxArgon give you a new body so you can save me before I die horribly Father?"

"Not today son, not today."

"Wait a cotton picking minute," said MoxArgon. "This is all hooey!"

"What?" barked Ermey, "You better unscrew your head from your ass, or I will rip off your head, sh*t down your neck and give you a Philadelphia Finger Fandango!"

"This is all an illusion," said MoxArgon, "and a pretty badly thought out one at that. Somebody is trying to guilt me into giving Android CAI-7 his body back, and there's only one person who would want to do that."

"You better stop this crazy talk before I personally give you a Bolivian Ball-Busting and carve you a new poop-chute!"

"Pollcat the Mind-Bender!" said MoxArgon. Suddenly the Ratchet home vanished and he was back in his bedroom, with only two heads accompanying him.

One, belonged to Android CAI-7, the other was big, ancient and wizened, and lived in a big tank, it belongsed to the Pollcat the Mind-Bender.

"You really can't blame me for trying," said Android CAI-7.

"Pollcat," said MoxArgon.

"Yes," said Pollcat, curious as to his fate.


Pollcat was an ancient and wise creature, and he didn't need to be told twice to haul ass, even though he personally didn't own one.

"What are you going to do with me?" asked the head of Android CAI-7.

Remulak MoxArgon picked up the severed head of his analyst and walked to the window and opened it.

"Boy," he cried out to a passing child. "What day is this?"

"Why it's Christmas Day Guv'nor," answered the Boy.

"I think Santa's left you something with me," said Remulak, before tossing the boy Android CAI-7's head, "It's a brand new kickball. Have fun."

"Thanks Guv'nor," said the adorable cockney child before he started kicking the head of Android CAI-7 down the street. Creating quite a clatter when it his some trash cans.




An Alien Xmas Carol -2

A Spirited History

"Reeeeemmmmuuuuulllaaaakkk," said a ghostly voice from the shadows.

"Who is it?" asked Remulak MoxArgon poking his head out from his bed curtains.

"I am the Spirit of Christmas Past," said the spirit.

"Wait a minute," said Remulak. "You're Ronald Reagan!"

"Well," said the Ghost of Reagan, "ya got me. Hey, what's with the shot glasses?"

"When Marlay said I was getting a visit from three spirits I was expecting my old buddies Captain Morgan, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam."

"Well I am not that kind of spirit," said the Ghostly Reagan. "You must come with me Remulak MoxArgon. Come with me to get to the root of your plot to ruin Christmas."

"I wouldn't call it a plot," said MoxArgon, "more like a scheme."

"Either way," said Reagan, "you're ass is mine for a good chunk of this night, so come with me."

"You've become a lot blunter since your death," mused Remulak.

With a gesture from the ghostly former president the window slid open, letting in a blast of cold air.

"Touch my robe and leap out the window," said Reagan's Ghost.

"I'll fall," said MoxArgon.

"Come on," said Reagan's Ghost, "I'm a spirit of Christmas, trust me."

"All right," said MoxArgon touching the spirit's robe and stepping into the open window.



"Now you've learned what I learned dealing with the damn Russians," said Reagan. "Trust but verify."


"So any lessons that don't involve me falling on my head?" asked MoxArgon as he and Spirit of Christmas past slipped through the mists of time.

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," answered Reagan, "here's your old school."

Suddenly the mists parted and MoxArgon found himself standing in front of the old gray edifice of his old school, The Buggerall Academy.

"Ye gods," said MoxArgon in amazement, "it is my old school, and look there's a young me with my old school chums John Kerry, Dan Rather and Jimmy Carter."

"I must say that lunch lady terrorized the sloppy joes today like a horde of Jenjis Khans," said the young John Kerry.

"Don't diss the sloppy joes!" barked the young MoxArgon. "And it's pronounced Genghis you dingus!"

"I have fake, but accurate documents that tell me that George W. Bush and Glenn Reynolds from Gryffindork House made those sloppy joes out of blended puppies," said Dan Rather.

"How many times do I have to tell you," said Remulak, "you can't go around taking everything Frank J. says seriously Dan, it's making you look like an idiot."

"I blame the all powerful Jewish lobby," said the young Jimmy Carter.

"What Jewish lobby?" asked Remulak. "Eddie Goldberg in the Fifth Grade, or maybe the Cohen twins from down the hall?"

"They're all in on it," whispered Carter.

"You really gotta stop hanging around Mel Gibson," said the young Remulak.

"You had an odd taste in school chums," said Reagan.

"Surrounding myself with idiots made me look smarter," said Remulak.

"They're all leaving for home for the Christmas Holidays," said Reagan, "but you're staying, why is that?"

"You should know," answered Remulak, "my Dad was acting like a dick and wouldn't let me come home."

"You did try to overthrow him," said Reagan.

"It's family tradition," said Remulak, "he was just being snotty about it."

"But look who comes," said Reagan, "isn't that your sister?"

"The script says it's my sister," said MoxArgon, "but why is she being played by Lindsay Lohan?"

"She was available," answered Reagan.

"Hey there you little bashturd," slurred Remulak's sister. "Fasher'sh furgiven yous, and yer comin' home-- hic!"

"Really sister?" asked the young Remulak, hope gleaming in his eyes.

"Yesh," belched Lindsay, "grab yer crap togesher, we're makin' like a tree and gettin outta here! Hic!"

"Oh sister," said the young Remulak, "you've brought happiness and the smell of tequila and cigarettes into my otherwise joyless holiday."

"Whatcha talkin 'bout?" said his sister before passing out in the snow.

"Say," said Remulak to the other students, "could someone help me get her in the car? No peeking up her dress Clinton!"

"That Christmas changed my life," said Remulak, "father showed me the power of forgiveness."

"Yet you still blew him up with an plasma bomb," said Reagan.

"That was business," said Remulak, "nothing personal."


"Where are we now?" asked Remulak as the mists of time surrounded him yet again. Then came the sound of happy music.

"I know that song," said Remulak, "and I know this place, it's old Fuzzywig's headquarters."

The mists parted and Remulak and Reagan's Ghost were in the middle of a joyous celebration. People from all over the galaxy were dancing and singing and having fun, while a stout little mole-creature named Fuzzywig.

"Look at all the joy your old employer is bringing," said Reagan's Ghost. "And all it cost him was a few credits."

"He could afford it," said Remulak, "The profits in the Flokian Opium trade were huge that year. Plus he had that whole 'Oil for Food' racket going with the United Nations."

"Let's cast our eyes on something less morally suspect," said Reagan, "let's see a young Remulak in love."

"Oh Angelina," said the young Remulak, "I know it's not a fancy engagement ring, but some day when I've conquered a few planets of my own I'll get you one of the finest gold and platinum."

"Oh Remulak," said Angelina Jolie, "I'd still love you even if you didn't conquer any planets. And this simple ring, made from the skull of a fallen enemy is enough of a token of love for me."

"That's what I love about ya girl," said the young Remulak, "you're hot with a side order of freak."

"I seem to remember this was a pretty hot night," said MoxArgon, "mind if I stick around and watch the good part after we duck behind the particle cannons?"

"There is much more to see," said Reagan as the mists came in again, blocking the view of anything fun.

"You're no fun," snarled MoxArgon.

"You're time with her would soon come to an end," said Reagan, "as you went into business with Marlay and became obsessed with conquering planets and aquiring wealth."

"So that's why I can't see no boobies tonight," said MoxArgon. "I hate stories when they get all moral."

The mists parted and MoxArgon and Reagan found themselves in the sitting room of MoxArgon's home. Angelina stood by the door, unable to bring herself to look at the young Remulak counting his money.

"You've changed Remmy," said Angelina, "when we first hooked up it was about adventure, spaceships, and a little cosplay, but now you're all about money and power."

"You're no prize yourself baby," said young Remulak from behind his stacks of gold and platinum. "We can't even go to the mall without you dragging home some orphan, I mean I can't even keep track of their names anymore."

"I can't go on," screamed Angelina melodramatically as she tossed Remulak's ring back at him and fled out the door.

"What's with all the yelling?" asked Marlay as he came in.

"Angelina left me," said young Remulak, "but she'll be back. Once you go blue, nothing else will do."

"Sure pal," said Marlay.

"Say," said young Remulak, "let's go fishing to get our minds of our troubles, just let me get this box into the car."

"What's in the box?" asked Marlay, "sounds like it's full of heavy chains."

"How silly," said young Remulak shiftily, "why would I be bringing chains on a fishing trip?"

"And with that simple little homicide," said Reagan, "you seized Marlay's share of the empire, and became the greedy, grasping old sinner we all know and loathe."

"I gotta be me." said Remulak.

Suddenly he was falling.



An Alien Xmas Carol

by Gnarls Dikkenz

A Most Unusual Visitation

First I must tell you that Zakub Marlay was dead. Dead as a nail, in fact, deader than a nail, I'm talking really dead. Really, really dead, John Kerry's political career kinda dead. I really gotta stress that, or what you're about to read will make as much sense as the plot on LOST.

Remulak MoxArgon sat in the cold grim atmosphere of the office, checking off the day's receipts. When there was a knock on the door.

"Ratchet!" bellowed MoxArgon to the front room. "See who the hell is bothering me while I'm counting my money!"

"Yes Mister MoxArgon," said Android CAI-7 Ratchet as he rolled off his desk in the front room and onto the little wheeled box he kept for just such occassions. You see rolling into the little wheeled box was all poor Android CAI-7 could do to get around, since his employer introduced his body to the barrel of a plasma rifle.

The box's little wheels whirred as it scurried, mouse-like and meek, to the door's open switch.

"Merry Christmas!" bellowed two jovial figures, known around the town as Varos Quasar and Snotglob T. Mutant.

"Bah humbug!" snapped back MoxArgon. "What do you two want?"

"We've come along to ask if you would like to donate to our charity," said Varos.

"It's a very worthy cause," added Snotglob, "we're going to give it to the poor."

"What a load of Nogrillian turd-pellets," snarled MoxArgon. "Are there no workhouses, no slave pits, what the hell happened to the mucus mines?"

"We don't have those anymore Mr. MoxArgon," said Varos.

"Then what's the point of having Republicans in office," grumbled MoxArgon, "if all they do is give the poor jobs in a booming economy, when they should be slaving away in misery!"

"All we ask is for a small donation," said Snotglob.

"Please," said MoxArgon, "the last time I gave money to one of your 'causes' most of the money ended up stolen by Kofi Annan and Air America. GET THE HELL OUT!"

The two visitors were willing to press their case for a donation, but were soon dissuaded by the appearance of the same plasma rifle that turned poor Ratchet's torso into scrap metal.

"My Uncle Remulak," said Xran the Fleshrender as he passed the two fleeing gentlemen in the entranceway, "you're certainly charming in the morning."

"Get out nephew!" grumbled MoxArgon. "I don't even know why I'm calling you nephew anyway! We're not related, we're not even the same species, and we're the same age!"

"It's called casting with the players you've got Uncle," said Xran with a smile. "so play along. Changing the subject back to the story, I've come here to offer you an invitation to Christmas dinner at my house."

The plasma blast flying over Xran's right shoulder was all the answer he needed.

"Fine," said Xran, "more turkey for me."

"HUMBUG!" declared Moxargon, slamming the door to his office.

"How are things going for you Android Ratchet?" asked Xran.

"As well as can be expected since I'm only a head," answered the bodiless android.

"How are the little Ratchets," asked Xran, "especially the little little disabled boy."

"Don't say that," said the Android. "That word's forbidden. Tiny TekTak must now be called Differently Abled or 'Difabled' for short."

"My things are getting complicated," said Xran. "Why don't I just wish you all a Merry Christmas."


"I suppose you'll be wanting the whole day off tomorrow," snarled MoxArgon as he slipped on his heavy black coat.

"If it pleases you sir."

"It does not please me," growled MoxArgon, "I'm getting pretty sick and tired of all this cheerful holiday talk. We're in the business of intergalactic conquest not making merry under the mistletoe! Take the day off, but mark my words, when I completely rule this universe, everyone caught saying 'Merry Christmas' will be promptly strangled with tinsel and buried with a stake of holly in their heart! Or I'll disintegrate them, depending on whimsy."


MoxArgon retired to his mean little room, in a mean little palace at the end of a mean little cul-de-sac and he was in a mean little mood.

Everyone was happy, everyone was enjoying themself, everyone was just full of disgusting Christmas cheer.

It sickened him to see those people happy.

In fact, it offended him.

That was it.

Remulak MoxArgon decided at that moment to end the scourge of Christmas cheer forever, not through expensive wars and conquests, but through a simple claim that he was offended. That will banish the flamboyant trees, the twinkling lights, and the obscene mangers, reeking of Christian goodwill and fraternal love into the darkest pit available.

And the beauty of his plan was that it wouldn't cost him a cent.

The ACLU would help him do it for free.

Suddenly there was a banging and the rattling of metal. And a ghostly apparition appeared before him.

"Who are you?" Remulak asked the phantasm.

"Ask me who I was," requested the spirit.

"Quit with the spiritually symbolic wordplay," snapped Remulak, "I can see that you're my old partner Zakub Marlay."

"Ask me why I'm in chains."

"I know why you're in chains," said Remulak, "that's the same batch I wrapped you in when I through you into the Devollian Ocean. You sank like a stone."

"That's right," answered the ghost of Zakub Marlay, "and you then stole my half of the business."

"Need I remind you that you were planning the exact same thing."

"It wasn't exact," said Zakub. "My plan used lasers. But that's not why I'm here. Forces beyond your grasp know what you're planning to do, and they sent me to warn you, to save you from your own damnation."

"Humbug!" declared MoxArgon, "this is all a hallucination. My nephew probably slipped LSD into my food again. I think there is more of Wavy Gravy than the grave when it comes to you. Hell I could probably eat some more of those brownies he sent me and spend the rest of the night being annoyed by a legion of Tellurian hobgolblins."

"Listen up," said Marlay's Ghost, "you're going to be visited by three spirits to show you the error of your ways. This isn't an acid trip, Xran only dosed the brownies with laxatives..."

"Oh," said Remulak, "you're right. Gotta run."

"Just remember the spirits," said Marlay as he faded away. "And remember to light a bloody match when you're done."



The Other Caller From Aurora...

Somebody else called Jimmy Carter to tell him off while he was on TV last week, but it was edited out. Thankfully, my advanced alien technology retrieved it.

Something about the caller sounded familiar....



Intergalactic Roundtable 2.5: Thawed Out & Chatty.

MOXARGON- Greetings puny Earthlings and welcome to a long delayed edition of The Moxargon Group. For anyone who is new to this blog we're joined by our regular panelists, freshly thawed from cryo-stasis, Xran the Fleshrender, Varos Quasar, our Point/Counterpoint pundits Tektak F. Mechanoid and Snotglob T. Mutant, and our panelist and wannabe usurper Android CAI/7.

XRAN- Wait a minute! Android CAI/7 is here?

TEKTAK- Yeah, he stuck us all in stasis and tried to take over the blog.

VAROS- Did you actually spare his life?

MOXARGON- Yes and no. Open up that box Snotglob.

SNOTGLOB- Sweet Hillary on Health Care! It's his head!

ANDROID CAI/7- Ooooh. Why was I designed to feel pain?

MOXARGON- Let's just say that I was moved by the spirit of the Christmas season to spare at least his brain.

XRAN- That's strangely compassionate of you.

MOXARGON- Besides, when I tried to find a replacement the casting company sent me Chris Matthews.

TEKTAK- Eeeww.

MOXARGON- So I figured that a treacherous severed android head was the lesser of two evils.

ANDROID CAI/7- Good choice oh great and glorious Moxargon.

MOXARGON- Nice brown-nosing, but you gotta do a lot better if you want your body back. Now let's get to work. This past week saw the release of the Report of the Iraq Study Group. Could you folks please summarize it for our readers?

ANDROID CAI/7- We give up.

TEKTAK- Treat the crazy like the sane and the sane like their crazy.

XRAN- If I could talk to the animals, negotiate with the animals...

SNOTGLOB- Let's be nice and the world will be nice right back at you.

VAROS- What's wrong with giving up the only democracies in the Middle East to savage dictatorships, they are full of Muslims and Joos?

ANDROID CAI/7- Toss everyone to the crocodile, and wait to be eaten next.

MOXARGON- Pretty good summarizing folks. Next issue, this past week saw the anniversary of the brutal murder of Philadelphia policeman Daniel Faulkner at the hands of radical racist Mumia Abu-Jamal. France decided to mark the occasion by naming a street not after the slain officer, but after the man who murdered him. What do you think?

XRAN- Mumia must have threatened to invade and this is their form of surrender.

TEKTAK- France would honour Jeffrey Dahmer if he made as many anti-American statements as Mumia.

ANDROID CAI/7- Why is Mumia even alive?

VAROS- He does have the support of a lot of celebrities. That's gotta mean something.

SNOTGLOB- Yeah, celebrities would never support a killer. Mumia was framed by WHITEY for speaking truth to power, just like OJ Simpson.

MOXARGON- Thank you Snotglob for proving that your brain is completely incapable of supporting intelligent life. Hell, the support of Mike Farrell and other celebrities pretty much proves the case for me. In fact, on Flokia prime, being friendly with celebrities is admissable as evidence of guilt.

XRAN- How much truth to power can a man speak if it gets him fired from NPR of all places for being too left wing.

TEKTAK- Exactly, he's a racist and a murderer. The only reason he's still alive is because of the American justice system's soft spot for communist wingnuts and his racism is considered 'acceptable' by the limousine liberal crowd.

MOXARGON- Besides, I think the term: "Truth to Power" should be banned and all those who use it vaporized since it has pretty much lost all meaning. Next issue. An ex-Klansman is heading to Iran for a summit promoting Holocaust denial.

VAROS- Senator Byrd's going to Iran?

MOXARGON- No, David Duke. He's joining an all-star team of loose screws, but they banned a Palestinian historian from attending.


MOXARGON- He actually believes the Holocaust really happened.

SNOTGLOB- Ahmadinejad's just trying to open up new avenues of critical thought. Cut him some slack.

TEKTAK- He's running a parade of bigots and fascists, showing the world that he's not only historically ignorant, but tactically stupid as well.

XRAN- Expect something to blow up in Iran soon. It will either be the streets or an a-bomb. Either way, something's going up.

MOXARGON- Speaking of A-bombs. What do you think of the Litvinenko assassination.

ANDROID CAI/7- Shows that the Russians really need the Bulgarians to do their wetwork.

TEKTAK- Exactly. What kind of an assassin kills with a weapon that could only come from one source, that rhymes with "Prussian Hover-mint," and spends half their time spilling it over half of Europe.

XRAN- My youngest hatchling can pull of a cleaner hit. Remember Xandroag of Pustula Seven.

MOXARGON- Heart attack, wasn't it? Oh, that was little Xrom's work? He is good.

XRAN- He's a natural. Was the only person to survive Assassin Camp last summer. Everyone else had 'accidents.'

MOXARGON- Well, we have to leave on that happy note, because that's all we have time for today. So on behalf of the others, I'd like to say goodnight, and keep watching the skies, because we're watching you.