THE LAND OF OPEN

If I were to form my own country, I would name it OPEN. It’s not that silly of a name. There’s one named Oman in the Persian Gulf--that’s pretty close.
The best thing about naming my country OPEN is that there are numerous flag designs already created. All I have to do is go to a flag store and choose one. Better yet, as long as the flag says OPEN, it’s fine. My flag, like my country, will be as diverse as possible. Many businesses in the United States will seem to honor my country--which will be great for tourism, too.
The next best thing about my country named OPEN is the possibility for unlimited puns. We will welcome travelers with OPEN arms. We will have OPEN minds and OPEN hearts. Our borders will always be OPEN. Something something OPEN something OPEN. You get the idea
The third best thing about the country of OPEN is that this will all be true. We will be completely OPEN with our foreign and domestic policies. Our energy programs will OPEN the door for new green technologies. Our judicial system will be OPENminded and fair.
Keep on the lookout for more from the country of OPEN including our complete constitution and the upcoming state of the union address in future posts. Plus, great new flags.

THE ENERGY

How many dead men does it take to heat the average American home? How many cancer patients does it take to operate a plasma television? How many dead fish, and birds, and squirrels, and turtles, and whales does it take to power a car's engine? These are not questions that we usually ask ourselves, but ones we answer unconsciously in the way that we live.
We know that coal mines are dangerous. We know that miners die quite often in them. They die while making their living. They die so that we can have a less expensive form of energy for our homes and businesses. Apparently though, we are fine with the amount that are dying every year. For we still use coal in this country.
Radiation has shown to cause cancer. Nuclear power plants are capable of, and have been known to be, leaking radiation into the ground around them. We must be willing to sacrifice a few more people to cancer, though. For we still operate nuclear power plants in this country.
Oil spills and oil run-off kill countless fish, waterfowl, and aquatic mammals. If we added up all of the animals that were killed by oil pollution every year and divided that number by the number of miles driven in cars in America, we could actually figure out the number of needless animal deaths per mile. It can't be that high, though. For we're still out there driving.
If we can't, as a nation, figure out a way to get our energy without pain and suffering and death, maybe we can at least make it more efficient. Maybe we can figure out how to get energy DIRECTLY FROM THE PAIN AND SUFFERING AND DEATH. We could cut out the middle-man. We could figure out how to run a car on the poisoning death of a duck or otter. We could extract the electricity from the pain caused by a malignant tumor. Maybe we could heat an entire office complex for the winter with one human corpse.
Don't blame me. I just have the ides. You’ll all have to implement them.

THE NAMELESS ONES

In my reckoning, there is no larger transgression on the dignity of human beings than that of the glorification and remembrance of the greatest evildoers in history. In my opinion, evildoers should be erased from existence, keep their evil deeds as object lessons, but forget the person.
Take _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ for example. Who, though seemingly quiet and normal, liked to kill people and freeze their body parts for later consumption. The media followed the story all the way to his grizzly execution. Now his name is practically a household word when the subject of cannibalism is broached. There are even jokes told with his name in them.
What about _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _? He brainwashed young people into murdering others in the late sixties. How many times do we have to hear about him on television while he rots in jail? He was even interviewed on Barbara Walters, I think. Is that really necessary?
What about even the worst of them all, _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _? I would never suggest that we forget The Holocaust, but do we have to remember his name? Is society served by having his books in print? Is it necessary to remember when his birthday is so that future young, crazy, jack-asses can honor it by shooting their classmates?
It is sad that so few of us can even remember the name of one of their victims. Why should the evil be remembered while the innocent are forgotten?
That should be our greatest punishment. Screw the death penalty, take away the identity. Take away their names. Call them nothing for the rest of their lives and ban the uttering or printing of their name forever. There is nothing that potential evildoers like more than a figurehead for their evil cause. Deny them that and many of them have no impetus to do evil.

THE HORSE

The horse is such a pitiful animal. I do not mean that in the sense that the horse is not a fine animal, it is. I just mean that I pity the horse, is all.
The horse used to roam the steppes of Eurasia thousands of years ago. Like many grazing animals, they lived in huge herds dominated by the strongest stallion. Wolves and large cats preyed upon the horses. Even some early humans hunted the horse for meat, though I’m sure that early humans ate a lot more slower animals more often. The horse, with it’s large muscled body and powerful hooves, was also a dangerous animal to prey upon.
Somewhere down the time-line, humans began using the horse as a beast of burden. The horse, in the days before machines, was capable of hauling heavy loads, and was smart enough to navigate rough terrain. The horse was a major factor in the success of human civilization. I think, however, that horses would, if asked, have declined to help out willingly.
The horse today cannot possibly be a happy animal. Sure, we have agreed not to eat them and we give them sugar cubes now and again--but that’s about it. The rest of the horses existence is that of physical abuse, enforced servitude, and captivity.
First, as a horse, you are forced to breed with whatever other horse your owner decides is worthy. Next, your child is likely taken away from you at an early age for training. Special trainers will forcibly break the horse. This means that the horse will learn that there is no point at all of resisting it’s human masters. Race horses are forced to run as fast as possible, literally exhausting themselves at the whim of their miniature human riders. Some horse actually DIE in a race. Some break their leg, at which point they are put to death. Other horses are lucky enough to just trot around a few times a week with their rich owner on their back in a ridiculous looking outfit. They only have to have a metal rod jammed in their mouth and get smacked with a tiny whip now and again. When, as a horse, you have outlived your usefulness--you are most likely shot and made into glue and dog food.
“They like their lives!” shout horse owners. “We love our horse like they were family!” This is exactly what all slave owners have said through the ages. “We give are horses(slaves) everything they could possibly want.”
Face it. Horses are just dumb animals. They have no real feelings. They don’t care what happens to them and they don’t care what happens to their young. They don’t feel pain. They can’t be happy or sad. Their just big flesh and bone machines.
This isn’t my opinion, just my observation. FREE THE HORSES. Let rich people ride really nice bikes.

THE END OF THE WORLD FILES volume 9. what to do with your poo.

There are many opinions about the most important preparations to make for the inevitable end of civilization. Many experts will tell you what food is best and how much to stockpile. There are numerous choices of weapons and their pros and cons. Medical experts may have their individual preferences for supplies and medicines. There are few experts on what to do with your poo.
You may think that, what with the end of the world here and all, disposal of fecal matter is the last thing you should think about. Wrong. It should at least be the fourth thing. After all, with you all hunkered down in your safe house living on canned beans and bottled water, you will soon have to deal with the eventual bowel movement.
Why not just cop a squat?
First, there is little chance that the sewage system will be operating. That usually requires regular maintenance, and I don’t think it will rate as a high priority among the survivors of Armageddon. Without functioning plumbing, your abode will become your ca-mode, and that’s no good. Going outside and finding some bushes to dump behind is also problematic. The last thing you want to do in dangerous post-apocalyptic world is get caught outside with your pants down.
Don't worry that you have to neglect your intestinal well-being, you got options--and they are all cheap and easy to initiate. All options require the same thing first, PICKLE BUCKETS. Pickle buckets are, obviously, buckets that pickles came in. They are white or green and available at any fast-food joint FREE FOR THE TAKING. Take as many as you can, covers included(they fit on nice and tight). If you have no other option, you can do your business directly in these and then seal them shut. Use them as end tables or whatever until you can get rid of them. Just don’t ever open them again.
With just a little more planning, you can get added efficiency from your pickle-bucket-toilets. If you live on the upper floors of an apartment building, you have a few advantages. Thanks to gravity, you can use your actual toilet for quite a while. Use your pickle buckets to store old wash water--stockpile some bleach to add to each bucket--and you can wash those troublesome brown trout right down the tubes and out to sea.
If you live on the ground floor or in the countryside, you need another option. Stockpile some cheap kitty-litter you can make pickle-bucket-human-litter-boxes. Save your wood ashes to sprinkle in after each use and you can keep the odor down considerably. Seal on the lid when you’re done and dump, rinse, and reuse when you can.
In the cushy, pre-apocalyptic world that we live in--our number two is far from our number one concern. It won’t always be this way. We will no longer be able to just flush all our troubles away.

THE COMPARISON TO JESUS

I like Jesus.
I just wanted to get that idea across before I blaspheme a lot. At least that's how others would see it. I like Jesus. I don’t worship Jesus, I just think he was a really cool guy. I think we would have a lot in common if we actually got a chance to kick back and have a few beers on a warm summer night or do a little hiking together. I know what you’re thinking. What does this guy have in common with the great J.C.?
1. We both have weird ideas that alienate us and anger a lot of people. You’ve read some of my other stuff. Can you imagine the reception I would have gotten if I read my posts aloud in the Middle East in the year 30 C.E.? Jesus would have had it a lot easier if blogging existed back then.
2. We both have performed miracles. One time my car stalled on a hill and I couldn’t stop it from rolling towards this reservoir. The brakes had failed. I got out and ran around to the front bummer. I grabbed on with both hands and was dragged along the road. My sandals (Jesus wore sandals also) fell off, but eventually the car stopped rolling. No one was there to see it, but how many people actually witnessed the whole walking on water thing? Also, last week I threw a wadded up tissue like 25 feet and it went in this keg cup on the window sill. This guy at church saw it and everything! You can ask him.
3. We are both very peaceful people. I hate war. I don’t believe in the death penalty and I’m a vegetarian. I have never actually even hit anyone in anger. I don’t spank my kids, either.
4. We both wear the same clothes all the time. Jesus went for the whole sandals and white robe. I prefer the black Ramones T-shirt and Levis thing. Tomato To-mah-toe.
5. I also plan on living forever.
6. Jesus grew long hair and a beard even though he lived in a hot climate, I shave myself bald even though I live in a cold climate.
7. My Mom was actually a virgin. This was, of course, actually before my older brother was born, but that’s pretty close these days.
I was just thinking about this because Easter was coming up this week and my sister is a Born-Again. I just wanted to say that I actually do like Jesus. I think we’re a lot alike. If you get to talk to him, ask him if he thinks so too.

THE BANANA

What's the deal with bananas? Besides the giraffe, the zebra, and that butterfly that doesn't get eaten because it just happens to look like another poisonous butterfly, it is the one thing that makes me believe in creationism. And that the creators had a wicked sense of humor.
I'm not a real fan of bananas. I read that weathy businessmen installed puppet dictators in banana producing countries so that they could make a lot of money. These dictators were brutal and cruel to their people and made them work as banana picking slaves. Also, bananas are spayed with tons of chemicals and there's no way of checking because they are still mostly grown in the same countries of questionable governmental legitimacy. Plus, I prefer apples.
The banana is funny, though. For some reason, it's hard not to put one up to your ear and say "Hello". It is also very phallic. Plus, it's apparently the most slippery thing in the world.
I have never actually seen anyone slip on a banana peel. According to our comedy movies and television shows, this happens quite a bit. I've slipped on a cucumber, a piece of raw chicken, rotten lettuce, dog poop, cat poop, baby poop, cow poop, ice cubes, butter, and numerous other items but never a banana peel. Last week was the first time in my life that I actually saw a banana peal on a walking surface. It was right in the middle of the sidewalk. I took a picture of it and then put it in the trash (I didn't want to take any chances). I looked around for a movie crew, but I didn't see one.
Was there ever a time and place that banana peels were commonly on floors and walkways? I can't imagine that people would see them. They are bright yellow and brown, after all.
I’ve never seen anyone slip on an oil slick either, but that’s another story for another time.