No, I'm not Mexican and didn't celebrate yesterday's Dia De Los Muertos but I sure feel like I'm muerto.

After several days of cold temps and bright sun, November happened here in the Specific Northwest. It rained all day yesterday and will do so again today. And tomorrow. And Sunday. And...the rest of November.

I work outside, mostly. I wear so much rubber rain gear when I go out that I feel like a dick.

Oh well. Time to suit up.

Headlines you'll never see:

Superman Publishes Map To Kryptonite Meteorite

Achilles' Book Names One Known Weakness

Wonder Woman: The Secret Of My Magic Lasso

What's wrong with these headlines? Each of them is as farfetched as farfetchedness can be. Superman would never reveal the whereabouts of Kryptonium-containing meteorites, neither would Achilles broach the foot thing nor Wonder Woman spill the beans about her lasso's ability to render her powerless.

To do so would invite destruction.

Which is why it's unconscionable that the Bush administration would publish on a public website instructions, in Arabic, on how to build a nuclear weapon and beyond - how to build the intricate firing circuits and triggers used in the explosions.

Some of the instructions to the "trickiest" parts of a basic nuclear weapon were published on the web site just within the last few weeks.

These are very cynical times in our nation's history but can even these times support the thought that the Bush administration was hoping that a terrorist group would be able to use the instructions it published in public to construct a bomb and detonate it before Tuesday's election?

It certainly seems like the adminsitration was practically begging someone to attack us.

We all know that the only song the Republicans have been singing for nearly six years is: "the terrorists are going to get you unless you do as we say". With each false alarm raised by Homeland Security, the Republican administration has seen the value of Democratic stock slide. It was the endless drumbeat of fear of terrorism, coupled with the war on Iraq, that got Mr. Bush re-elected by a mere whisker over the incompetent Senator John Kerry in 2004.

It's my personal belief that, in the days leading up to 9/11, the Bush administration understood that something terrible was about to happen and that they intentionally allowed it to. I believe that they didn't know just how terrible the attacks on that day would be. The leaders within the administration are on record just prior to being installed around the president in 2000, agreeing that Americans would require "a new Pearl Harbor" in order for the administration's version of global dominance to become reality.

9/11 was just such "a new Pearl Harbor".

The members of the administration who agreed that a catastrophe was needed in order to recast the world in their mold were the same members who pushed the country into war on Iraq, pushed the anti-American Patriot Act through the lap-dog Congress, pushed Congress again to allow secret spying on anyone "suspected" of being a terrorist without having to prove to anyone why the person is a suspect, pushed Congress again to allow the president to order anyone - even American citizens - "detained" with no access to judicial process, pushed Congress again to leave what constitutes "torture" up to the president to decide and on and on.

These members and former members of the administration, Cheney, Rummy, Libby, Wolfie, Woozy, Drippy and Crock, have been singing the song "The Terrorists Gonna Getchu" the loudest during this election. They claim that only Republicans can keep America safe.

So what do they do? They publish instructions in Arabic on how to build a nuclear bomb on a public website. Were they hoping for another "Pearl Harbor" to keep them in power in 2006?

In some countries, people stand in front of tanks to fight for the right to vote.

In some countries, people brave bands of murderers, beatings and rapes in order to cast their vote.

Even in Iraq, as citizens went to vote for the U.S. puppet regime, they faced brutal teasings about being Barney's proctologist.

The very least you could do is get your lazy ass over to the polling place and do your civic duty.

After all, you don't face murderers, beatings, rapes or tanks when you go to vote.

But if you don't vote, there's no guarantee how long that might last.

Or, How I did Did At The Crapshoot, Honey

Nationally, things went well for the Democrats. Locally, things damn near always do but how do the resident Liberal Pinko Commies stack up against my own views? Perspiring minds want to know.

Washingtonians have an initiative process written into the state constituion. In recent years this process has been clogged with zealots trying to circumvent the hard work of politics with the relatively easy work of stirring up the masses and gathering signatures.

Initiative 920 would have repealed the estate tax in Washington. It affects almost no one and even Bill Gates' father considers it a payback to the people for maintaining a society where tons of cash can be raked in. I voted against its repeal. Survey says: 62% of my fellow Commie Bastards agree, 38% do not.

Initiative 933 was a "property rights" initiative. Allegedly it would have simply made government pay landowners for land government restricted from the landowners use. In lieu of payment, government could waive the application of whatever rule or law was causing the restriction. It was vague, sponsored by a New York developer and had the potential to either cost the state upwards of $9 billion or gut the rulebook. I voted against it. Survey says: 58% of my fellow Socialist Assholes agree, 42% do not.

Initiative 937 would have required local utilities to phase-in the use of "renewable" energy sources. The catch: hydropower (renewed every time it rains) isn't included. Wind power is emphasized and well as mouse-in-wheel farms (just kidding). While I wholeheartedly support the smarts behind alternative energy, energy policy for the state of Washington needs to be set by our lazy-ass Legislature and not by caveat. I voted against I-937. Survey says: 47% of my fellow Lenin-loving Jerks agree with me, 53% do not.

More later...

I was supposed to continue with this morning's comparison of my votes in yesterday's election woth those of my fellow Commie Pinko Lefties but, fark it.

I just want to point out that on Monday, gas was $2.33 per gallon at my neighborhood Shell station.

On election day it rose to $2.39.

Today it was $2.42.

Since Monday, oil has risen $1 per barrel.

Think the oil companies were lowering the price in an effort to help Republicans at the polls?

Nah, of course not!

William Rivers Pitt: A Deep, Deep Breath

We are an invention, the product of an idea, the children of a dream. We come from everywhere, and though our history is stained with far too much blood shed during the unfolding of our own history, the sum total is an amalgamation of the best and worst of the human experience. Nothing like this has ever existed anywhere, ever.

It was not always so, and remains today a dream unfulfilled, but in the end, that was the genius of it all.

So I've been updating The Exclusive Shops at Panzo.org. I spent all day Sunday redoing designs, adding new designs revamping the store page and keywording my images at CafePress.com.

Two designs I created (they will be up later with the rest of the non-holiday items) were universal yellow highway "caution" signs. One was "Caution: left brain closed in head" and the other was "Caution: right brain closed in head".

They went up at CafePress late Sunday evening. Yesterday (Monday) morning I had an email waiting for me from CP stating that they had flagged my images because it was possible that they violated the Content Usage Policy.

It turn out that some dickwad alleges that he owns the trademark to the word "caution" when the word appears on clothing.

I was forced to change the "caution" to "warning".

I see an entirely new avenue of income opening up to me. I'll trademark words and license their use.

Once the words are all mine, then those idiots at the university who laughed at my work will pay! They'll ALL PAY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

So here I am, back after a few days of slaving over a hot keyboard and lots of work on the Shops.

Why did I do that, I hear the two of you wonder.

Since I opened them two years ago, I've made $140. That's 19-cents a day.

For a long time, I was determined to just let the shops languish and if someone stumbled across them and bought something, it was cool. I'm mostly anti-commercialism and I didn't want Panzo.org to become a site where every click offered a pop-up and cheesy blinking ads littered the sidebars.

On the other hand, making only 19-cents a day kinda sucks. Just ask the kids who work for Nike.

So what to do? I'm a creative schlub and I really enjoy making the designs that appear in the Shops. I like making the moola yet I'm not a big fan of advertising.

Here's the compromise: the top ad will go away and the sidebar will be modified so as to show off a few of the designs. I'll also be promoting the Shops more elsewhere so maybe with the combined exposure, I'll make more cashola.

I'm shooting for 22-cents a day.

Dateline - Tokyo - Faced with the harrowing prospect of thousands of American children holding their breath, kicking and screaming, crying and possibly getting some exercise at last, Sony Corp. today announced that the Japanese government would step in to help ease a supply chain constriction that was keeping Sony's new video game console out of the chubby hands of American youth.

Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi announced on Thursday that the Japan Air Self Defence Force (Nihon Koku Jieitai) would make several of its C-130 J-class Hercules transport planes available to Sony Corp. for "a mission of mercy to the children of America".

In addition to the abject boredom of thousands of children in cities as well as the heartland of America, a real economic impact would be felt if the PS3 was late in arriving in time for the after-Thanksgiving Day sales.

"We know for sure that WalMart would collapse without the PS3," economist Floyd Beemer said. "Other retailers would fall like a house of dominos. Chaos would ensue in the nation's economy."

Indeed, the prospect of a Retail Season without a white-hot item prompted the Federal Reserve to call an emergency meeting. Several WalMarts around the country were already preparing to go belly-up. In Ralston, North Carolina, the signs have already gone up.

With the perturbedly ginormous win over the Republicans under her corset and the title of Speakership of the House of Repremembership tucked firmly between her bosoms, Reprememberative Nancy Pelosi from San Francisco embarkadaro'ed on a nationwide tour to introduce herself to The People.

Known as "The Redneck Tour", Pelosi is sweeping through Red State strongholds where her reputation as a Weenie Liberal Dirtbag has been sown the deepest.

While her speechifying is purposely salted with "down home" words such as "hogs", "whoop-ass" and "niggers", it's her singing that's melting the hanging hearts of small town Southern truculenti.

At Runnin' Devil Truckstop in Slappkettle, Alabama, Her Speakership broke into an old Dave Dudley hit by Tom T. Hall, "One More Mile". The hooting went on for 12 seconds when Pelosi belted out, "Storms won't stop me wind won't do it, a little rough ride that fits my style..."

As brutal as the fight was to win majorities in both houses of Congress, Nancy Pelosi is proving that she's up to the task of mending America's idealogical fences with a soothing coo and some truck driving music.

And then one more I gotta keep moving
I was born a traveling child
It's my way and it's the nature of my mind
I gotta keep doggin' it one more mile

It's too bad we weren't that hungry to start with and then had coffee that knocked off all the edges to our hunger. Columbia City boasts not one but two barbecue joints. Just looking at the menus taped to the inside of the front windows made my mouth water even though my stomach was like, "No way, dood!"

We'll be back!

From Columbia City we snuck over to West Seattle. I say snuck because I'm never able to figure out how Miss S.O. gets to where she wants to be from where she is. I know I could never replicate her navigation.

Anywho, on California Avenue, we had a small bump and grind with a proverbial little old lady driving a rare-bird red Chrysler TC. She tried to move from the right lane into the left and didn't see us there.

She got her door and rear quarter scraped up. The Chariot of the Goddess got its lower pass-side fender scraped along with some damage to the wheel (click above pic for the gruesome details).

The poor woman forgot that it was Saturday and led us to her insurance company's office only to find that it was closed. She said she was upset over having to attend a funeral and "shouldn't even be driving".

No one was mad. It was only a love-tap. But you know what it will be like when the insurance companies get ahold of it. (sigh)

I'm just glad she wasn't going fast enough to really do damage to her car. The TC is a late-80's/early-90's Chysler/Maserati bastard child and body parts - along with all other parts - for it are a bitch to find.

We grabbed lunch at the Charleston Street Cafe whose clam chowder has beaten East Coast versions in numerous competitions. I had tuna salad on 9-grain bread and the chowder and Miss S.O. had the club with chowder. I was surprised at how good the food was.

We ended the day on a sour note when I believe Miss S.O.'s motherboard burned out. We'll find out today after a trip to the computer parts store.

The title of today's entry is a time-honored maxim when dealing with any government.

It fits most aptly when dealing with the current administration, however, as we've seen time and again how denials have turned into truth for this dysfunctional bunch.

White House dismisses CIA report on Iran's nuclear weapons program

"...another "error-filled piece" in a "series of inaccuracy-riddled articles about the Bush administration."

Apparently Bush's lame ducklings, refusing to learn from the Iraq debacle, are still denying intelligence assessments that say they're wrong.

Perhaps they can produce the Iranian version of Ahmed Chalabi to whisper sour nothings into their ears.

Here are a few things that I'm tankful for this year:

• I'm thankful that I'm out of the demographic. I've seen what the demographic is fed by the media. It ain't nothing I'd want anyway.
• I'm thankful that Rick Santorum lost in Pennsylvania. The man clearly should have been pulled down in a haze of blood by a pack of gibbering wererabbits years ago.
• I'm thankful that Carrot Top is back in the Amnesia Ward of America's consciousness.
• I'm thankful for Tina Fey saying that Paris Hilton looks "like a tranny" up close. I've been saying that for years from this distance.
• I'm thankful that, at least as of this writing, The Groovy Ghoulies cartoon has been spared a Hollywood movie remake.
• I'm thankful that I'm an American because it means that I don't have to be thankful but once each year and even that token of gratitude is followed by an orgy of self-indulgent spending known as Black Friday.
• I'm thankful that being an American means that it's not only acceptable but desirable to buy gifts that satisfy my own ego rather than to buy gifts purely for the enjoyment of the giftees. Yes!
• I'm thankful that I rethought several allegiances this year. It's hard to think that you belong where you are and most likely nowhere else but it's the truth.
• I'm thankful that hookers take plastic. Have you seen the charges for cash advances lately?!
• I'm thankful that Madonna is adopting the underprivileged. I think everyone with money should do that. I also think that someone with money who wants to adopt the underprivileged should start with me.
• I'm thankful that "underprivileged" is defined by America and not, say, Kiribati. That would suck.
• I'm thankful for the simple things in life. Martinis. Dumb broads. Swinging music.
• I'm thankful that socks are cheap and plentiful in this country. If that weren't so, I'd never be able to afford to keep my dryer.
• I'm thankful that no one will read this. I mean, can you imagine?

Then we had dinner.

Just kidding.

On Friday we went downtown. You might think that was an insane mistake of a thing to do but it wasn't.

We weren't shopping, we were just people-watching.

We took the bus down to Westlake Center, took another down to Pioneer Square and did some hunting for Nutcrackers.

We caught another bus (most of downtown is a "ride free" area) back to near Westlake and walked to the mall's namesake park across the street where the [Giant Corporate Sponsor] Holiday Carousel is set up and we watched young and old go 'round and 'round for two minutes per ride and cataloged a couple more Nutcrackers.

Like a couple of crazy kids giddy with holiday madness, we splurged on fancy coffee beverages. I contributed to the American economy in my own way: I peed in the six-floor Macy's men's room. (no pictures)

We decided to stay for the annual Westlake tree lighting/Bon Marché (now hideously Macy's) star lighting.

After being harassed by the heat for standing in the wrong spot, behind the barricades set up on the corner of 5th and Pine, I blocked out a spot next to the on-hand garbage truck and we waited for it to get dark. And waited. And waited. Through singing and music and the inanities of the "hosts" and "emcees" and then...shit!

Two Yuppie breeders squeezed in front of me, the Mumzie with a little blond on her back, the tall Dadzie with leather coat-clad Skippy Junior on his shoulders. Neither of the kids cared a fig about the ceremony as both kept covering their ears and shrieking at each song but, by God, they were privileged to be standing in a good spot in front of someonee who'd been waiting there for over an hour, and they were going to stay!

I finally got a few good shots to the back of Dadzie's head, er, no, by shifting to the right, although most of them contain Skippy Junior's skull in them.

The tree lit and the star came on to fireworks. The crowd dispersed peacefully even with the cops ordering us over loudspeakers to "use the sidewalks".

Saturday took us down to Seattle Center where Winterfest was going on. We scarfed some more fancy coffee beverages and watched the people skate on the annual Winterfest Ice Rink.

It was a good weekend.

The lack of forecastable weather in any season but summer doesn't help with the snow nerves of PNWers, either.

There is this thing called the "Puget Sound Convergence Zone" (great link for weather geeks, BTW) that forms and falls away. It can pop up, shift with the wind and dissipate suddenly. Whatever is currently happening is usually more intense in the "convergence zone".

For instance, no one forecasted the snow in the photos until it was happening. It was supposed to - and did - snow overnight farther north of the city. But the PSCZ popped up and shifted south. So it snowed here (and still is spitting some though temps have gone up a bit) in the middle of the day.

Woot!

Part of what I do at work is clean up leaves and debris from around the property. The property itself is rather odd in that it is two buildings across a pretty busy avenue from each other.

One building is a parking garage whose north side parallels a side street that empties onto the avenue.

The other building is two city-blocks long and fronts the avenue.

The intersection at that point is a "T" with the avenue being the cross member. If you roll the "T" onto its left side, you'll have the image exactly.

About an hour ago, I had filled a 50-gallon rolling can full of leaves from along the garage's north side, crossed the intersection and emptied the can in the compactor inside the building's loading dock. I was on my way back to the crosswalk to cross and finish along that north side, pushing the can, when I stopped to pull my work gloves on.

As I did so a car came speeding down the wrong side of the cross street where I had just raked, passed a car on the left, failed to brake or even attempt the left turn onto the avenue and slammed head-on into the building about 20 feet in front of me.

I called 911.

Two people were trying to help the driver and were leaning into the passenger side window. They said the driver still had a pulse.

When the medics pulled him out of the wreck, they were performing chest compressions on him and I could see them working on him in the Medic One unit. They pulled away with the siren on and I've heard that they only run the siren when their rescue victims are alive.

I came home early.

All I've been able to see is that car slamming into the building. All I've been able to hear is the sound of the impact. All I've been able to wonder is if the driver made it. All I've been able to think about is about what might have happened had I not stopped to pull on my gloves.

Can I tell you all that I love you?

Also be forewarned: you're going to be hearing about the accident I saw yesterday for a while. Feel free to change the channel if I bore you.

After I posted yesterday, I took a nap. I was pretty wrung out. I can't imagine what the people felt like who actually tried to help the man in the car. I guess I'm just a pussy. Whatever.

When I got up an hour later, I started tracking the story of the man who hit my building.

The Seattle Times quoted a police spokesperson as saying that the driver went through the green light at the intersection and hit the building and a pole. I wrote and told the reporter that, yeah, he went through the green but he did it on the wrong side of the street and by passing a car in the correct lane about to turn left onto the avenue.

The Post-Intelligencer quoted the same police spokesperson as saying the car hit the utility pole and came to rest against the building. As is evident in my photos, the car was not resting against the building. As is evident in picture #2 above, the car didn't hit the pole (picture #1 shows the surprisingly light damage to the building). I wrote the reporters and told them that the car never hit the pole but hit the building instead.

Here's where my tear gets going.

I don't know how reporters work these days. I know that Miss Significantly Other has a degree in journalism and was taught, all those years ago, to go get the story. Isn't that a reporter's job? To tell us what happened?

Here is a small incident, I suppose, taken against the backdrop of the news of the day (another car sailed off of the Alaskan Way Viaduct, plunged 35 feet and the driver walked away, another accident a few minutes later involved a police car and the officer was injured, a storm with potential ice was coming, etc.).

But here's the thing: None of the reporters looked at that utility pole. If they had, they'd have seen it wasn't damaged. None of the reporters looked at the wreck or the debris very closely, either, or they would have seen the Disabled Person license plate on the sidewalk and asked questions about it.

As far as I know, all the reporters did was ask the police what happened and then printed what they were told. They may have even done that from their desks at their respective places of work. There were a handful of people who saw what happened - including me - but as far as I know, no one was interviewed by the papers.

I realize that the accident was routine for a city of Seattle's size (yeah, even for here). I also realize that it's become "my" accident because I saw it happen, I called 911, I saw the medics trying to keep the driver alive and after, I walked over to where I stood when it happened and saw the shattered shards of plastic that littered the ground and I realized that I hadn't seen them fly at me.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. But two reporters asked only the cops what happened and wrote two inaccurate, incomplete stories that have yet to be followed up on (the editors' fault).

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But we're talking about someone's life.

About picture #3 above: I swept up the rest of the accident scene today and came across the charm in the picture. It was on a black lanyard in a puddle of car fluids in the gutter. The lanyard had to go but the charm is fine.

Can anyone identify the (what I'm assuming to be Chinese) characters? I think the top one is "harmony" but don't know what the bottom one is.

I have an email out to the Harborview Medical Center spokesperson mentioned in the stories. If the driver lives, I want to give him back his charm on a new lanyard. I'd like to know what it means, though.

Angelo is a hoot. He's sweet and funny and loves to laugh. He also works very hard and enjoys a good can of pop.

The new owners of my property are getting rid of him, effective tomorrow. Apparently after spending $100 million on the purchase of the property, the new owners can't afford charity.

"That's the way it goes" is the way it the decision was described.

I'm going to miss Angelo and his rituals of asking me for a cup of coffee, my glasses, a cigarette (he doesn't smoke and neither do I but he still likes to ask) and other things over and over. I'm going to miss his wild, whole-hearted laughter even more.

He's landing on his feet, though. Another company with a bigger heart than the one I'm under contract to is picking him up as of Friday.

So long, Angelo. I learned a lot from you, pal.

And now, let's all sing that timeless Christmas classic...

I saw Britney's naked coochie raw
Underneath her LBD last night
She didn't know she flashed
The world's most sought-for gash
You'd think that she could buy herself some panties
With her cash

I saw Britney's naked coochie raw
Snapping in the paparazzi's lights
Oh what an early Christmas gift
For that little black skirt to lift
And show me Britney's naked coochie raw

(parody lyrics ©panzo.org 2006)