bring the noyz

From the original. . .

A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

um, hello McFly, it's the Second Fricking Amendment.

All animals are equal.

Thanks, George.

To this. . .

(A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.) this right is not absolute and subject to reasonable regulations enacted by local communities to keep their streets safe.

That was Barack Obama on June 26, 2008

(All animals are equal.) but some animals are more equal than others.

Again, praise Bob for the wisdom of Mr. Orwell.

So um, pray tell me, my dear reader. . .

What's the diff? I mean really now, please tell me, do, do tell. Because for all I can tell there is some difference in little things, like language and grammar. Perhaps there is a word or two variance between the statements. But heckfire and damnation, for my money the message is the same.

And that will keep me awake for another hour or two.
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I'm made of metal
My circuits gleam
I am perpetual
I keep the country clean

AGENT COOPER: "Secrets are dangerous things, Audrey."

And from time to time they can also be very compelling. This is both really scary and really freakin' cool:


Photographer Documents Secret Satellites — All 189 of Them
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Mike Cameron: I don't know you very well, you know, but I wanted to ask you - how'd you get Diane Court to go out with you?
Lloyd Dobler: I called her up.
Mike Cameron: But how come it worked? I mean, like, what are you?
Lloyd Dobler: I'm Lloyd Dobler.

Yes! Yes you are.

(And that, my dear reader is the small piece of driftwood you cling to as the sharks circle and you float sleeplessly in the dark of the night.)

So Lloyd Dobler, go.


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got what you wanted
lost what you've had

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. . . now everybody smile and say "boo".

And don't you dare say I di'n't try to warn ya.


Huh, that was funny. I totally got ya.

Or did I?

I tried to warn ya, sound the alarm, you know my dear reader, yell fire in a crowded movie house.

Ah, I fear we are late. Now, they are here, with us. They will soon be amongst us, in or theaters, subways, coffee shops and grocery stores.

I wonder what they're gonna do next.

I know, I know, it is a crazy idea.

Do not submit to intimidation", "Assert your rights", "If you do not assert and support your rights, you are helping to deny or disparage rights which it is the solemn duty of all citizens and residents of the United States to retain."

But still, it is the law.

. . . when a nation is at war many things that might be said in time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight, and that no Court could regard them as protected by any constitutional right." . . .

The question in every case is whether the words used are used in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger that they will bring about the substantive evils that Congress has a right to prevent.

The danger is clearly present if not yet presently clear.

I fear that it no longer matters if one potential reason or possibly the cause turns out to be a fraud.

And that's just plain fucked up.
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This should be in giant banner headlines on the front page of every paper in the land.

But it won't be.

Here it is:

General who probed Abu Ghraib says Bush officials committed war crimes

Um, one word: duh.

Here's a sample:

"After years of disclosures by government investigations, media accounts and reports from human rights organizations, there is no longer any doubt as to whether the current administration has committed war crimes," Taguba wrote. "The only question that remains to be answered is whether those who ordered the use of torture will be held to account."

It's not like it's new news or anything.

This is not America.



Go Dennis, go!


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We are successfully and safely back from our Grand Adventure.

The Boy held up amazingly well. I mean amazingly, remarkably, and most impressively.

On most days he displayed greater enthusiasm, eagerness and stamina to continue the fun and experience The Magic than The Wife and I.

My anxieties about air travel were mostly unfounded, although today I learned that in Orlando the TSA acronym has a whole new meaning: Total Shithead Assholes.

They tested The Boy's shoes and his wheelchair for explosive residue for Chris'sakes. They were rude about it, the cocksuckers, and violated their own posted policies by momentarily separating The Boy from The Wife and I. They then proceeded to scold me for violating unknown rules about getting all his gear and supplies through the security checkpoint.

I hated it, I hated it, I hated it, and I had a song by The Police playing in my head the entire time:

Billy's joined the National Front
He always was a little runt
He's got his hand in the air with the other cunts
You've got to humanize yourself

I recognized it was a situation where I needed to simply smile and nod and walk away as soon as I was allowed to do so. So I did.

Ah, fuck 'em. Let it slide, let it slide.

We are home, we are safe. It was an amazing journey.

Cripes man, is The Boy ever one amazing kid.

Details and links to photos of the glorious affair will follow soon.
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I was struck by lighting
Walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
- Danny Elfman

While the Good Doctor Polymer Noyz has had on multiple occasions drunken delusions of knowing all the answers to life itself and everything, somewhat sadly this is not one of those times.

No sir, no siree. Like yourself, my dear reader and fellow traveller, I am also on a quest for some sort of truth. While oft times it is universal, the answers I seek today are somewhat more mundane and involve an incident that has been much in the news recently.

My question, succinctly put, boils down to this: "What are the odds?"

Given the following as reported in the press, both statewide and local:

- only one state trooper was on duty when normally there should have, would have been two.

- the infrared motion sensor security sensor system was not working.

- video which they will not yet release (why? somebody get caught with their pants down?) shows a possible twenty-something physically fit guy scaling a fence and tossing "an incendiary device".

Again, let me be quick to say that I am not making any accusations, only raising a question, but again I must ask, what are the odds, the truly random odds of probability, that there was only one trooper on duty and the security system was broken on the very same night that a person who "seems to possess some degree of fitness or strength, since he was able to scale a barrier into the Mansion grounds, throw an incendiary device with enough force to cause it to create a fireball, and flee the scene in the dark without being apprehended or injured" set the Texas Governor's Mansion on fire?

Ask yourself who has the skill-set to do that? Why that night? Coincidence? Dumb luck on the part of the arsonist? Politically motivated or not? Why the change of tune?

Wait a sec, hold up. . . reading and/or watching on. . .

He may be known to get angry and express strong opinions about the Government, Governor Perry himself, the death penalty, the renovation of the Mansion, or other political issues. His feelings of anger and frustration will be noted by people who know him.

Cripes man, that could be me on a sober night.

Great. Now I'm a friggin' suspect.

My plan and my practice is that The Boy and any future sibling(s) will grow up with the belief that "Fucking" is part of the title of an elected official, i.e.: "Fucking President, Fucking Senator, Fucking Governor, Fucking Mayor, etc.".

His skill in deploying his incendiary device suggests he has practiced constructing and throwing these devices. . .

Skill? Hmph! Okay, I'm off the list.

But still, ask yourself questions my dear reader, yes ask.

And then sit back and go "hmmm".

A Lone Star Reichstag fire?
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hours and counting. . .

. . . until The Wife, The Boy and yours truly find ourselves somehow seated on a Southwest flight bound for Orlando. I say "somehow" because The Wife and I are still to some extent going back and forth on what to do about The Boy's seating situation on the plane.

I spent eight or so hours Sunday googling

(eech, please save us Word Nazi,"google" is a verb now isn't it? Or rather more accurately for the purposes of this sentence assuming I correctly remember my grammar from the diagramming sentences days of Mrs. McKenzie's 7th grade Advanced English class, a gerund.)

the most arcane and mundane of FAA websites searching for the exact rules and regulations regarding CRS (or Child Restraint Systems otherwise known to the less acronym and bureaucratically inclined as a "car seat") and all of The Boy's required medications, supplies, and equipment. We've got the rules and regs on our side, but we're still not sure if we want the hassle, both bureaucratically and physically of lugging a car seat around. All I can tell you for sure is that we are going to hit the airport tomorrow morning loaded for bear and better prepared and equipped than an infantry unit being deployed in Iraq. I've got about hundred or so printed pages covering everything you can imagine to back us up and will have the video camera at the ready if somebody dares to try to tell us "no".

"What's that? You say we can't bring this on the plane. My son has significant medical, physical, and cognitive disabilities and this is medically necessary to maintain his health, safety, and well-being. Surely you're not discriminating against a handicapped child? Well hold on just a sec. . . okay. Now please say it again nice and slow and this time try to smile as you look in the camera. We'll need the documentation for our attorney and you wanna look your best for the local TV news."

My personal goal for tomorrow is to make it through the day without being tazed and put on a no-fly list.

"Why?" I hear you asking yourself my dear reader.

Well lemme tell ya. . .

WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!

Yes, Disney World. For a one week all expenses paid stay at a Disney resort, complete with unlimited park access and even a meal plan for goodness sake.

This whole trip is courtesy of my recently retired father and mother. It was a Christmas gift. Along with the 38 foot fully loaded RV that is now their home, my parent's have dreamed, planned and schemed of one last big family vacation. They are taking themselves, us, my sister, her husband, and two kids for a final family "hurrah!" before they drive off into the sunset of their lives and spend their glorious golden days traversing this great nation.

There should be some tales of brave adventure, pics, and possibly video (if I can finally master the art of YouTube) in a week or so.

I need to go to bed but am feeling a little hyped and more than a little anxious.

So wish us well.
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just strange?



or just true?
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His eyes are the eyes that
Transmit all they know.
Sparkle warm crystalline glances to show
That he is your leader
And he is your guide
On the amazing journey together you'll ride.

- Pete Townshend, "The Amazing Journey"

Today is The Boy's birthday. As you can probably discern my dear reader from the title of this posting, he is seven years old today. It seems quite remarkable that I have known him and been involved in his life since he was just a couple of weeks old.

What began like this, has miraculously and marvelously grown and evolved into this:



So at some point during the course of your day, my dear reader, please join me and raise your glass high, "Here's to The Boy! Happy Birthday!"


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We are quite fortunate, my dear reader, if every once in a great while we are blessed to live in such a time when a small yet geometrically perfect diamond blocks the passage of sand through the hourglass of the days of our lives. We suffer a moment of cultural constipation and everything stops. We societally grunt and groan as we strain to wipe past the moment and briefly pause to sit and reflect in quiet contemplation.

Yes, yes, yes, while the tragic death of Bert "Mr. Television" Convy certainly qualified as such a moment (how can we ever forget his escape from Devil's Island), it is sadly not the focus of tonight's rant.

Would that it were, my dear reader, would that it were.

However. . .

With a little Luck, a dose of Slack, and the Guiding Hand of Divine Beneficence the movement and the memory will go down in History like the Crowning Moment of one of the Three Kings.

Not of Rock nor of Rodney, but of Martin.

So I wish you all the best, Mr. Obama.

And Godspeed.

And so Mr. Obama, if I may be so presumptuous as to address you directly on this night of your one little victory, I pray and I beseech thee that you are not a scorpion song and that my heart is not yet so hardened by cynicism that I see you keep the promises you make.

Good night, and good luck.
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