Layers sloughed away.

Cerebral Assault (n.): Also known as Intellectual Assault or Rational Assault, Cerebral Assault is a sudden onslaught of words, pictures or ideas so mind-numbing and insipidly stupid that it causes the recipient to feel significantly less intelligent and unable to think clearly for a period of time.

Symptoms of victims of cerebral assault include: inability to spell correctly or form coherent sentences; mindless gibbering; crying; glassy-eyed wandering of the hallways, mumbling in dead languages; shallow breathing; and staring off into space awaiting (and possibly planning how to hasten) the inevitable demise of all humans as the dumbest multiply the fastest, crowding out any light of hope for mankind.

If you, or anyone else you know suffers from Cerebral Assault, call our toll-free hotline immediately. The call is free.

Guns, guns everywhere (but not a drop of think).

So there is a "2nd Amendment rights" rally today in the town I currently call secret lair. Being what I represent, I have no problem with people having as many guns, rocket launchers, tanks, gunships or even fully armed-and-operational battle stations. I also firmly believe that I should be the only one with ammunition, and I am slowly, methodically turning this foundation into reality by carefully gaining corporate control over the manufacture of all gunpowder through shell companies¹ and will soon have a back-dated patent on all methods of bending metal to conform to the shape of a bullet casing.

Control the means of production, and you will control the output itself.

At any rate, I fully think that these nitwits should be messed with, and I think I know how: simultaneous sci-fi weapons rights rally²! I shall start putting out word that the tyrannical, imperial state government (headed by Mr. Romulous) is suggesting to remove violent-looking weapons from TV shows and comic book stores as they encourage violence in the streets. We should quickly see robed and/or two-tone jumpsuited mobs of nerds carrying signs depicting such pithy remarks as "Save our Phasers" and "Lightsabers don't kill people, Sith do". Perhaps even graphs and placards will be put up to show how handheld photon torpedoes should continue to be legal in case someone attacks you in a dark alley with a Constellation-class starship!

Aside from the ridiculing of the legitimate, peaceful gun owners³, there should be a great deal of delicious tension building up with the clash between the trek/wars factions. I can only imagine the fun if one of them points something "gun-like" at the original group.

One thing I can assure you of, however... in that scenario, Han wouldn't shoot first.

1. And via a non-profit corporation dedicated to helping disadvantaged children learn to read and write. I named it "Shellco". Its logo is a cute cartoon turtle! hee!
2. Alternatively, I could inform the Westboro Baptist Church that there was a gay dead soldier being celebrated today, and two loudmouthed, overbearing, ill-informed, annoying nuisances take care of each other! I call that win-win.
3. "Peaceful" in that they show up in a throng, brandishing deadly firearms, and loudly demand that the fascist muslim communist nazi marxist can take their guns when he pries them out of their cold, dead fingers by marching in lockstep over the peoples' elected government officials, I mean. Ah, irony.

The least moistest gun.

FADE IN:

INT. HOTEL ROOM SHOWER - MORNING

Through the steamy air, a young lady is showering, partially covered in suds. As she scrubs, a dark shadow appears on the other side of the shower curtain. Suddenly, the curtain is yanked aside, revealing a deranged hotel manager, dressed in women's clothing, wielding a large kitchen knife. The knife thrusts at the showering woman with familiar (cliche) "stabbing" music. Camera angle moves to drain, where the water is mixed with an increasing swirl of blood.

ANNOUNCER: Are you tired of being defenseless in your own or hotel shower?

JANET LEIGH: Boy, am I ever!

ANNOUNCER: Want to keep that sidearm with you at all times, but worried about water and soap scum ruining the nice clean finish on your gun or interrupting its ability to fire? Concerned that holding a pistol while scrubbing your hair may be inconvenient? That's why you need the new Shower Holster™ from AlyredCo™! We all know that the counter is too far away when you really need your weapon, so we've designed a holster that will keep your sidearm dry yet easily accessible. Exclusive "Fold Flap" (pat. pend.) technology keeps water out while precision-crafted suction cups allow you to optimally position your holster for fast draw times, and keeps it where you put it! No more fumbling for personal defense while being stabbed by a random stranger!

CUT TO:

Scene shows arm sticking out of the shower, fumbling for weapon while person is apparently being stabbed, only to come up with a tube of toothpaste that is squeezed to "dramatic" effect, squirting toothpaste out and over slowly lowering hand.

ANNOUNCER: No more being caught unawares by intruding family members!

CUT TO:

Young boy quietly snickering while sneaking into the bathroom, reaching to flush toilet. Warning shots are fired from within the shower into the ceiling, and boy looks scared, running out quickly.

ANNOUNCER: Destroy those pesky would-be shower stabbers!

CUT TO:

Earliest scene is repeated, with showering woman. Shower curtain is yanked aside, to reveal woman holding an M-16, which blows the attacker away in a spray of bullets, along with most of the sink, toilet, mirror and wall behind it.

ANNOUNCER: The AlyredCo™ Shower Holster™!  Now in 3 sizes: Pistol, Shotgun, and Assault Rifle. Ask about our new "Shower Sheath™" as well, for those that prefer to get more up-close and personal! AlyredCo™! Keeping your piece dry while your other pieces are wet!

My throne for a non-turkey sandwich!

After a hectic holiday season, we're finally through and now, perhaps, I can get back to some regular postings... what? There's still...? Oh, Shiva be damned.

Heeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

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Well, it's been nigh on four score and 6 days ago that I've written, and it's been a hell of a pair of fortnights. This day job thing has been keeping me busy, and asking ever more with ever less time and resources. If only I had my time machine functioning! Of course, when I should be tired and go to sleep, my brain Kool-aid mans through the wall of fatigue ("oooooh yeahhhh!") with a whole pitcher of thoughts in one hand and a rubber hose and syringe in the other. I feel wide awake and can't slow my mind down; invigorated until a slow slide towards exhaustion with a sudden crash at about four in the morning. So I program, play a game or three, try to club that baby seal-stream of random thought into submission (or a new pair of boots). So lately, I've been so tired when I normally write that the creative and evil energies are a bit low. Perhaps I'm simply falling victim to the propaganda that is thrust upon me by my situationally-temporary corporate masters. Seems to be a string of wake-up-go-to-work-slam-head-against-desk-to-dull-the-stupid-go-home-eat-numb-brain-on-computer-games-sleep-repeat. So, despicable reader -- it may be a bit before I'm writing witty, humorous, and cutting prose upon this hallowed page with any more regularity. However, use the "subscribe" link to the right there and you'll be amongst the first to know when I do. Good night, sleep well, I'll most likely kill you in the morning. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no play makes Alyred a dull overlord. All work and no 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"Creation Museum" to build, launch Mars probe.

Sept. 4th, 2010 - Petersburg, KY: A spokesman for the AiG-funded Creation Museum held a press conference today, where they announced the funding for a new Mars probe to prove that knowledge gained from strictly biblical sources is just as valid as that gained from the scientific method of observation.

"The liberal media has continually lambasted Creationism as being false or without merit, but the faithful will prevail in this battle of what is unholy and what is right by the word of The Lord God almighty." said Answers in Genesis founder Ken Ham, while raising his hand at his side, index finger extended to the sky above. "While we can't take shortcuts like the heretics at NASA with their use of computers and the Devil's math [editor's note: Calculus], we've got a dedicated team working hard to bring any biblical answers to light on how to construct, launch, land, and direct a lander on the surface of Mars."

When questioned on the method of control that will be employed, Ham answered that the current favored idea is "really long strings that The Lord will stretch in the middle."

"Currently," Ham said, "our method of launch is a large Trebuchet, as described in the bible in the taking of the city of Syracuse in 212 B.C. Though that trebuchet, in fact, didn't throw stones, later ones did and we're calling that a gimme. Currently our record is nearly four furlongs, though we were able to reach five when the load was lightened to six drams. If we decide to attempt a manned mission that should be acceptable, as The Lord will provide all in times of need to those that are worthy, including food, water and oxygen. We just need to ensure that our Heavenaut is pious enough."

In the event of a manned mission, cans will be attached to each end of the string for communication, Ham explained. The mission planning stages also suffered a setback last week when the chief abacus operator, Abraham Jebediah Dunlop, was discovered working through the night and into the Sabbath, requiring the AiG organization to stone him to death.

Ham continued, "It was a real nice, old-fashioned stoning party. We had a Barbecue and everything set up before the big event, and even a marriage proposal right at the first throw. Unfortunately, old Abraham was the only one of us that knew advanced gravity theory, from the time it was still taught in schools over the more biblically-accurate 'intelligent falling' theory, so that's been a big loss because it had a lot of clues to how to interpret the biblical passages. But the Bible holds sway, and the word of God is incontestable."

Expected to join the team soon to replace Dunlop is noted Oxford Dr. Matthias Rinley. "Dr. Rinley doesn't have one of  those liberal elite 'mathematics' backgrounds, but he does have a doctorate in zoology from Oxford in sexual selection in pheasants, and he knows that climate change science is overblown bunk, and that's good enough for us," said Ham. "We've got faith that The Lord will provide the proper numbers in the proper, biblical way -- and that doesn't require your blasphemous 'calculations' at all."

At time of publication, capped tubes filled with 10,000 match heads were being wheeled by mules onto the launch platform for testing.

Eastwooding!

So, we've been reduced to this.

Who is the imbecile that let a doddering old man up on stage without a script, carrying a chair that didn't stop him to ask why?

The entire Republican party?

Oh, you guys.

Well, at least the simpletons in the audience, and the ones watching and seeing it after the fact, are easily fooled. Already, similarly Paul "Lyin" Ryan's speech on Tuesday, they spin it into meanings that are at best a stretch, and at worst a colossal circularly-enforced delusion.

"It was all acting!"

"His point was that Obama isn't ever there and is a failure!"

"His hearing aid was turned up so loud that he could actually HEAR someone back stage say, 'Go fuck yourself.'"

"That chair shouldn't be so disrespectful of Mitt and Clint!"

"Eastwood-Chair 2016!"

"President Obama was actually there using government black-helicopter technology!"

And so on...

Eeeeexcellent. Stealing this election might just be easier than we originally thought. I do hope that Obama's fixed it up enough again that there's something in the treasury to steal again, however. These peasants need to be ground a bit more into the dirt.

Lanced!

So now that a bit of time has passed for the imbeciles that think that since Neil Armstrong's dead, he won't have to give back his 7 tour de France medals¹ to focus on some other moronic pop culture thing, there's an interesting thing I thought I'd bring up.

While Neil Armstrong was, himself, a pretty awesome guy, and engineer -- the thing he is most well-known for is that he strapped himself into rockets and trusted the engineers, mechanics, scientists and mathematicians to get him where he was going.

Bravery? Yes.

Skill? Definitely.

But nowhere in the common press do I ever hear about the people who got it all right, who put those men on the moon.

Heaven, most people probably can't even name the other two astronauts in the Apollo 11 capsule without Google or Wikipedia².

People, don't just celebrate your front men. Neil himself had a small ego; it's one of the reasons he was chosen to be the first human to step onto another celestial body. It's all of you together that can do great things, not just a single man. Celebrate your scientists, your engineers, your mechanics, your logistics support. Celebrate science.

Don't cut it away a piece at a time to religious demagoguery. Don't slice it up so that another defense contractor can sell another bomb.

You've got too much riding on this, and your failure to do so... disappoints me.

1. Yes, Really. I'm not joking.
2. Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins, in case you're wondering. Though Collins wasn't in the lander.

Hurricane Isaac Disappointed at Being Turned Away From Convention.

Pensacola, FL, 8/28/2012:
Alyreuters - In an interview today, Hurricane Isaac has stated that he's disappointed about being unable to attend the Republican National Convention being held this week in Tampa Bay, Florida.

"Ever since I became a tropical depression in the warm Atlantic waters, I had one goal: to attend the Republican National Convention so I can always remember the great victory that the Republicans will have this year in the polls. Even though I'll probably peter out and vanish over a large landmass long before the November elections, I'll know that I was there for a part of history." the hurricane said.

When asked of his political leanings, the Hurricane replied: "Well, I wreck economies on a scale measured in GDP; I leave a huge path of destruction in my wake; I indirectly kill the poorest people in society while the richest get sweet government contracts and kickbacks to clean up my mess; and when my eye is directly on you, you know there's going to be more destruction and chaos coming really soon. Of course I'm a Republican! Also, I like strippers and whores."

The Hurricane paused for a moment to wipe out a neighborhood by swelling a river and breaking the levee. "Wow, I don't know why you guys bother with those. They don't work, especially when you've cut all the public safety programs to the bone. You should stop funding that stuff altogether."

"So anyway, I was rather disappointed to find out that I wouldn't be admitted to the Republican convention this year. But I can still be useful: after all, I am a hurricane. I decided to focus my abilities elsewhere; to continue my special brand of tried-and-true "trickle-down" on the poor and middle-class and hit New Orleans, perhaps try some of that spicy Cajun seafood, or catch some sun further along the coast in Texas before turning northward to bring more Republican values to the heartland."

Rushing to conclusions.

Tampa Bay, FL, 8/27/2012:
Alyreuters - Reports are in that Rush Limbaugh has stated that the current Hurricane threatening the gulf coast is of Obama's doing: "Evidently, this Oh-Bama has been using black magic to summon and control a this... what is it, this hurricane Isaac, to aim directly at the Tampa Bay area to try to interfere with the Republican National Convention, hallowed be thy name. It's simply a shame that the taxpayer has had to foot the bill for the black budget for his black cabal to worship the powerful black spirits responsible for this... weather witchcraft."

Limbaugh went on to say: "Now, I'm not saying he definitely sacrificed unborn fetuses to collect enough blood to power his black rituals, but his record on voting for infanticide speaks for itself. I'm just saying, you decide. I can see him, there in the sub-basement of the white house with his black administration, over a black pentagram or whatever it is, speaking in his African language, or whatever it is... blooba blooba [click] blooba [click] [click]... that's how they sound, you know. Anyway, he and his screwed-up administration like known liar White House press secretary Jim Carney and the covetous Ben Bernanke, the fed chairman, who is probably a child molester... I can't prove that, but he probably is, or was... and Sandra Fluke, all down there in some sort of orgy and chanting to their black Gods, all to just change the weather to block the Republicans, to make any progress forward impossible in the economic recovery of this country. That's the sort of politics your black president plays, folks. Dirty. Evil. Black. He'll do anything to win, including lie, cheat and steal from Medicare. And send a hurricane to ruin the Republican convention. Because he can. Do you really want someone like that in the White House for another four years?"

"It was only by the grace of our good, Christian, God that we were able to turn away the hurricane, just in time to block the worst of its black effects." Limbaugh said. "We had good, lily-white spirit Christians praying around the clock so that their chosen nominees and elected officials would remain safe and dry. I guess they didn't, you know, pray quite hard enough, as our folks still got rained on and had to delay the convention stuff for a day. But they turned away the worst effects to somewhere that nobody cares about, and that's what counts."

Limbaugh then added: "Black. Black blackity black black. Nigger. That's the country he's from. What? It's 'Niger'? Eh.. whatever. They know what I mean."

The sound of a pill bottle opening could be heard shortly afterwards, before commercial break.

Akin-Breaky Heart

It's always disappointing when evil has to cull one of its own paragons; a rabid knight in black armor that has suddenly gone too rabid for so many of the sheep that they are trying to fleece that it tips the scales of the balance of power back to virtue.

I, too, am joining the call for representative Akin to step down. Not for what he said or believes; these are standard fare for those of his caste¹. No, I'm calling for his career to be fed into the woodchipper of failure because of his audacity, carelessness and lack of grace to speak of it aloud; to put definitive, inevasible and irrefutable words into the heads of the undecided voting populace² instead of the vague trigger words that nonetheless bring specific thoughts of fear, racism, and misogyny while playing to all the hidden layers of the worst of mankind.

Unfortunately, when one reaches for the dog whistle but grabs the megaphone instead, it quickly turns into quite the unmanageable kerfuffle.

Bishop Romney³ is having enough of a difficult time convincing people he can relate to them⁴; we don't need someone keep bringing those crazy views up to remind people what the Republican party really stands for. I can't help but to shudder when I imagine him unthinkingly disgorge how we're going to keep taxing the poor to give breaks to the rich, how we're going to destroy the middle class and the environment at every turn to make a buck, or how corporations get special treatment over the commonfolk.

On the other hand, this sacrificial lamb does bring about one nice thing now that I think about it: how long has it been since you've heard anyone mention those tax returns that may show that he's actually a felon?

1. His caste being those that are servants to those of us that run things behind the scenes, the types that his ilk hold umbrellas and serve drinks to while toadying up to us to ask for more money and favors. And a job after they've used up their usefulness to us.
2. What few people are still undecided, that is: after the countless gaffes and inability of the propaganda arm of the Republican party to convince the mindless sheep of the country that their chosen one is 'one of them' and 'just a successful, ordinary guy' and an 'international businessman on an important international business trip'.
3. He's still using 'Bishop', right? Or is it 'Sir'? 'Grand Wizard'? It's so difficult to keep straight these days.
4. Funny, the easiest way that The Leadership in the past has pulled this one off is to say, "Who would you rather have a beer with?" Well, guess why can't they use that one anymore? Yeah... don't want to bring up yet another difference he has with the majority of the lesser classes that he expects to vote for him.

Est ergo veritatem.

With the Mars Science Laboratory having been awesomely landed by a team of incredible bad-asses at the United States' JPL last week (and if you haven't seen what that entailed, I highly recommend you look it up. Yourselves. No, I won't Google it for you), I thought it might be a nice thing to go over a bit of comparison between what science has brought us, as a civilization, and what religion and blind ideology have brought about for us. There's also a list, at the very end, of things science is "on the brink" of bringing us: amazing technologies that are right around the corner; visible in the distance as actually achievable but not quite there yet.

Granted, this is mostly a "generalized" list, and I've tried not to include any duplicates, but a few might have crept in here and there. Also, on this list are a few things that you might argue if "science" really brought us. To those arguments I say: shut your pulpy-red organ-filled enamel-crusted speech hole. The way we utilize these items wouldn't be the same without their discovery and effects learned by application of the scientific method.

Things religion and blind ideology have brought us:
Flat-earth theory
Community
War¹
Hatred
Faith healing
Animal (including human) sacrifice
Segregation
Warm tingly feeling when facing our own mortality
The Crusades
Torture²
Willingness to sacrifice life for another person's agenda
HIV rates in Africa
Slavery³

Things science has brought us:
Communities that can grow past a few hundred people
Space telescopes
Space shuttle
Moon landing
Pictures from other planets
Understanding of seasons
Clean water
Clean air
Unspoiled food
Refrigerators
Movable type
Penicillin
Knowledge of bacteria
Antibacterials
Knowledge of viruses
Antivirals
Open-heart surgery
New metals
Houses⁴
Skyscrapers
Microchips
Computers
Laptop computers
Laser printers
Inkjet printers
Smartphones
Tablet computers
Calculators
Abacuses
Elevators
Escalators
Parachutes
Safety vests
Life preservers
Reflective tape
Televisions
Flat panel displays
Radio
Satellites
Satellite TV
GPS
ATMs
Batteries
Computer networks
Wireless networking
Eyeglasses
Contact lenses
Statin drugs
Pacemakers
Heart valve stints
Extended lifespans
Cameras
Digital cameras
Cure for smallpox
Cure for polio
Cure for whooping cough
Cure for scurvy
Survivable appendicitis
Genetic testing
Air conditioning
Central heating
HVAC
Toilets
Vaccuums
Ovens
Dishwashers
Coffee makers
Automobiles
RV's
Trucks
Trailers
Motorcycles
Engines
"Bulletproof" glass
Panes of clear glass
Bulletproof vests
Spun fibers
Cotton clothing
Rayon
Nylon
Polyester
Indoor lighting
Electricity
Tanning booths
Fluorescent lights
Aluminum
Aluminum foil
Steel
Iron
Bronze
Gold
Platinum
Diamonds
Microwave communication
Microwave ovens
Laser communication
Instant hot water
Sanitation
Running water
Hurricane tracking
Tornado warning systems
Airplanes
Helicopters
Printing press
Paper
Books
Keyboards
Pianos
Stringed instruments
Brass instruments
Electronic instruments
Sheet Music
Ships
Astrolabe
Outboard motors
Wheel
Scissors
Magnetic data storage
Optical data storage
Flash data storage
Transistors
Binary electronic systems
The internet
Web browsers
Email
Voice mail
Personal lubrication
Condoms
Birth control pills
Cut gemstones
Agriculture
Chemistry
Geology
Physics
Mathematics
Comic books
Doritos
Canned food
Aluminum cans
Carbonated beverages in every store⁵
Cardboard
Glue
Nails
Paint
Laser pointers
Blue jeans
Factories
This blog
Telephones
Computer languages
Ceramics
Biomonitors
Beds
IV fluids
Hematology
Instant messengers
Pots and pans
Chlorine
Megaphones
Loudspeakers
Speakers
Bass woofers
X-boxes
Playstations
Computer games
Amplifiers
Tomatoes⁶
Vitamins
Tape
Staples
Crystals
Uranium
Plutonium
Atomic Theory
Geiger counters
Fire alarms
Burglar alarms
Fast food
Leather
Aerogel
Liquid Skin
Burn therapies
Tang
Dehydrated Foods
Pens
Ball-point pens
Pencils
Roller coasters
Fiber optics
Toothpaste
Soap
Shampoo
Dental hygiene and care
Vulcanization
Volcanology
Coffee
Milk⁷
Foamed milk
Domesticated animals
Pop rocks
Survivable surgery
Stitches
Antacids
Aspirin
Ibuprofen
Industry
Cargo ships
Sailing
Personal watercraft
Concrete
Asphalt
Roads
Bridges
Shoes
Seismic monitors
Tsunami warning systems
Photography
Video cameras
Genetic tests
Chemotherapy
Sandblasting
Alcohol
Jet turbines
...and lots more!

Things Science is bringing us soon (but you can't quite buy yet):
Self-driving cars
Human-machine direct neural interfaces
Replacement retinas
Cures for severed spinal cords
Contact lenses with embedded electronics (Heads-up Displays, anyone?)
Augmented reality
Wearable computers woven into your clothing
Self-cleaning clothing fibers
Nanotechnology

1. War - Sure, there's also war over resources, but without religion's interference and "God-given" rights a diplomatic solution would have much more likely been found. The planet is not yet to the point of actual resource scarcity for the global community to create an "us or them" mentality, though it is approaching that point quickly. Most wars are begun and fought over ideology and/or religion, and an unwillingness to work together -- something science is good at.
2. Torture - It's been shown again and again not to work. This is contrary to the scientific method. I suppose a case can be made to argue that science has improved the methods of torture both psychologically and physically, but without the willingness to harm another in the name of ideology, torture wouldn't exist in the first place.
3. Slavery - Slavery wouldn't exist without an ideology that some people are better than others, or are a worker class.
4. Houses - Instead of Caves or whatever natural structures were carved by nature. The building materials or methods used for centuries weren't discovered without basic scientific method, whether they be stone block
5. Carbonated Beverages - Carbonated Water occurs naturally, but a method to create, bottle and mass-produce it? Yeah. Scientific Method applied, bitches.
6. Tomatoes - Originally thought to be poisoned. It took someone experimenting with eating them to realize that they were not.
7. Milk - Secretions from a cow's udder? Think you'd be drinking that if someone hadn't tried it first? BAM, Scientific Method!

Leveling Services.

Are you tired of being tired, but don't want to do all the hard work it takes to get in shape? Rather spend your leisure time slaying internet dragons and getting more purple pixels? Need more time to play between work and sleep? Household chores being a total TKer in your FPS?

Introducing new Body Leveling Services, from your friends at AlyredCo™! That's right, we've developed a way to transfer your consciousness into one of our FunDrones™ with your choice of current electronic gaming platforms while one of our advanced BodyShapers™ does the workouts for you! No more sweat in your eyes while you're trying to take on that dumb thirteen year old kid from Akron, Ohio in Back to Karkand! Slay Deathwing in complete simulated comfort while your personal BodyShaper™ does squat thrusts! Even questing and exploring Mists of Pandaria is a breeze while your hunger, thirst, sleep and other biological functions are handily taken care of by your BodyShaper™ while bringing your body's form to the very pinnacle of peak physical perfection*.

We have four pricing tiers to fit your budget!
Rodent: Entry tier. 8 month minimum contract. Free(restrictions* apply)!
Pawn: Middle tier, for the sedentary-getter, 6 month minimum contract ($59.99/mo).
Phantom: 4 month minimum contract. You will gain a particular set of..."skills" ($599.99/mo).
DeLorean: If you have to ask, you can't afford it.

In addition, you have the personal guarantee of AlyredCo™ that after your contracted time expires, your body may be returned to you in peak condition, healed and ready to go out and party! Attract that mate you've always wanted! Walk up more than a flight of stairs without breaking a sweat! Dangle from a harness while suspended over priceless artifacts, so as not to set off the floor sensors! Drill into bank vaults to claim the riches within! This physical prowess and more are yours for the taking!

AlyredCo™! Destroying the competition, one American Dream at a time!

Gaming software and gym memberships purchased separately. Results not typical. Criminal record may be applied. Body not likely intact before rodent contract expires due to use in some sort of Zapp Brannigan-style killbot-stopping scheme, or simply destroyed for AlyredCo™ Chief Executives' entertainment. Pawn contract involves indentured servitude for final two months as a minion of AlyredCo™. Phantom contract skills are only learned in muscle-memory, but include: jewel thievery, demolitions, escape artist, assassination, and sous chef. DeLorean plan does not involve time travel. All plans except Rodent require surgical alteration. BodyShapers™ are dog-brains controlled by a massive supercomputer; personal interaction with BodyShaper™-controlled bodies not recommended, nor fruitful as BodyShapers™ show have no emotions. 

Entitlements (Specifically, Mine).

The life of a supervillain is generally a rewarding one, allowing indulgences and whims to be fulfilled on a regular basis with very few limits or drawbacks. Ergo, the temptation to grasp at the ripe, low-hanging fruit of a peaceful, placid¹and neighborly society will always eventually reach critical mass; a tipping point that upsets the face of order by introducing it to the highly-energetic cream pie of chaos. Nature² abhors a vacuum, and someone's eventually going to be the stone thrown from within that grimy glass house of complacency, shattering it into shards of opportunity and power that will be greedily clutched by those who are the fastest to leave brotherhood, ethics and often sanity behind.

Unfortunately, the time is past that a dishonest, hard-working individual or cadre of supervillains could make vague, open threats against a government (or group of governments) and expect a serious response and the monetary funds requested to continue his (or her!) nefarious work. Far too much competition from petty criminals and corporations has watered down the severity of such ultimatums to make them something that can generally be ignored as "somebody else's problem."

That added to the showboats of terrorist activity in roughly the past decade (the orchestrators, not the imbeciles they got to carry out the attacks) and the conveniently expensive paid-to-the-military-contractors inevitable response, public opinion has turned more towards a "shoot first, possibly ask questions of the corpse but it isn't necessary" response. This does not bode well for actually collecting on the money demanded, even if said government or corporate entity takes you seriously enough to pay out.

So! I've created KickStopper®, a new platform for CrowdForcing®! How does it work? Well, unlike the original KickStarter that only gets money if the entire project gets funded, KickStopper® takes the money immediately and offers the rewards to whomever has paid their share, all while offering a layer of obfuscation between the ultimatum initiator and the common vermin. It's win-win for everyone³!

So now, instead of moving in a seemingly endless progression of conceptualization, lab experiments, explosions, lack of funding/foiled by arch nemesis, and ultimately starting over, this should allow any aspiring supervillain that I allow⁴ to use the platform a way to raise those desperately needed funds.

Tonight, I will present the very first⁵ KickStopper® ultimatum: mine⁶! Of course, this is only a screengrab; you'll have to go to the full site to actually pay your dues. I'm certain, however, after reading my complete case and the ultimate threat it represents, you'll be persuaded to turn out your pockets and give generously. And now, on with the show...

(click to aggrandize)

1. Boring.

2. As we all know, "Mother" Nature is one cold, heartless and unfeeling bitch.
3. Mostly me. But rewards are nearly instant for the common user, so... maybe 90-10 win-kinda win.
4. No others will be allowed.
5. ...and only.
6. It's a fascinating project, for certain.  Why only the northern hemisphere? Well, I need to keep someplace pristine so I can keep all my stuff there. I'm thinking Australia or Rio, though Rio seems somewhat of a party town, what with all the shanties and ghettos and rampant kidnapping and murder.

Minions Wanted...

Good¹ help is hard to find. When I was running ...The Organization, I would often have to replace minions due to the turnover expected in any multinational corporate entity -- Leaving for more lucrative work, promotion, standing in fire, freak lab accidents, being between ends of plasma induction coils when they are powered on... well, you get the idea². The problem is, the inevitable horrible-death-or-disfigurement-to-compensation ratio is so high that most of the "applicants" you get are imbeciles that don't know the business end of a Steyr AMR-36 assault rifle from a hole in the ground, brown-nosing yes-cretins that tell you your plan is genius even when you're giving them a test with an obviously terrible plan, or overly-ambitious ladder-climbers that will stab you in the back to usurp your hard-won power at the most inopportune moment³.

So once I rebuild ...The Organization, I plan on a new model of recruitment. Namely, one that provides me plenty of unambitious, dumber-than-average yet still somehow able to pass a Turing test minions that actually have some firearms training and are willing to work for peanuts; a model that, if done right, I will need only compete with southern evangelical mega-churches for a steady stream of loyally slavering underlings that will do my bidding with the flimsiest of rationalizations.

Yes, you vile little social barnacles. I'm talking about Tea Partiers⁴! No, I'm not going to reveal my entire 69⁵ step plan, I'll only give you a taste!

You see, when a Tea Partier sees a picture of your president with a hitler mustache or the words, "Obama is a socialist muslim fascist commie kitty-hater who wants to take away your Medicare and give it to undocumented immigrants!" on sign held by an older, white male or somewhat-hottish, plastic church mom⁶, the deep-rooted fear and racial prejudice machines that have been ingrained into his or her unused grey matter by countless hours of propaganda kick in together to create a potent, toxic slurry that douses their very morals. It shoots right down to their gut and nearly physically pulls them into the crowd, irresistibly drawing inward, and soon he or she has crossed the event horizon of sanity and is spouting the same nonsense like a parrot taught to curse⁷. The truth in their minds gains validity by the volume and quantity of those speaking it, regardless of actual facts or historical trends.

Bonus points if the crowd members are shouting something along the lines of, "Gunmint's gunna take away yer guns!⁸" or "Occupy Wall Street wants to take your money!"

So, after first setting up an ammo-selling⁹ booth nearby for liberating cash from those eager to be parted from it¹⁰, I plan on employing "Crowdforcing¹¹" techniques to move them to my own ends. Methods include:

• Saying my target is threatening their ability to bear arms, and that we should march on them NOW and kick them out of the country¹².
• Having them construct large towers with rotary cannon emplacements to make sure the "wrong type¹³" of people can't get into their gated communities.
• If I need to cross a deep chasm, use circular logic and/or religion to have them cast their bodies into it until I can comfortably stroll from one side to the other¹⁴.
• Telling them that "That's the way Reagan did/wanted it" for whatever cockamamie scheme I want them to carry out.
• Make their minds mushy and pliable by watching hours of Fox News or some reality show, like "So you think you can dance with the survivor idols." To rile them: Bill O'Reilly¹⁵.

There's lots more, but listing them has become blasé.

So, the next time you see a crowd of gun-toting, sign-wielding white imbeciles milling about, beware my ire and be sure to leave plenty of supplication in the collection box¹⁶.

It may just be the beginning of my re-ascension to power.

1. And by 'good', I mean 'evil'.

2. Also: suicide, suicide by betrayal, suicide by failure, suicide by displeasing their overlord in any way...
3. For instance: when you're gloating and/or monologuing over the hero/damsel you're about to utterly destroy.
4. Sadly, only the modern-day versions. I haven't yet perfected my reanimation ray, and my time machine is in the shop because it was overheating.
5. Stop your snickering. The number is merely a coincidence!
6. Closely related to the soccer mom.
7. And hate.
8. Note the clever 1:2 ratio of words containing "gun" to those without.
9. "Buy three shells for the price of 4, and get one free!"
10. Also: arming them for whatever nefarious scheme I have planned at their cost...
11. It's a new field of study on how to manipulate mobs into doing what you want. A combination of logical fallacies and mind-altering gas. As seen on Fox News!
12. Regardless of their country of citizenship.
13. People I don't like.
14. "You must have 'great faith' to take the step on the bridge." "Oops! Last one didn't have enough faith. Next! Now, you look like a devout fellow!"
15. Coincidental Homophone? There are no coincidences. Except for that number of steps in my plan thing from earlier. There is only one coincidence.
16. Alternatively, feel free to buy some ammo at the AlyredCo® Ammo-n-Alcohol© booth and join in the pawn party milling away nearby.

Catapostrophe.

It has been a nice (nearly) three week vacation¹ from you pestilent corpuscles, but now I have returned. I do hope you've enjoyed the respite you were granted, however brief, from the torturous, twisting words that my cognitive musings beget upon you, the reader.

While working on my most brilliant masterstroke to date, I've found that even with my incredibly advanced intellect and prescience of multiple plan outcomes, it's quite difficult to produce perfect grandiose schemes while under an external deadline for other projects. I'm definitely going to need to concentrate on that "pocket dimension time" project that I've procrastinated on for so long.

Projects are especially difficult to complete, however, when I'm often surrounded by imbeciles² and the public at large. Case in point: the way my entire being twists and rejects the notion of supposedly English-speaking people don't understand how to use apostrophes.

I was at the grocery store a short while ago, procuring provisions for this biologically needy form and found this abomination:

I'm not even going to go into the fact that the word is spelled "Entrée" as it is futile to complain that the menial laborer of average intelligence³ doesn't know a foreign word⁴; I can, however, deride them being unable to comprehend the basic syntax structure of their natural language that they grew up with and ostensibly went to school to learn⁵. Obviously, this sign should have been constructed without that poor, sad apostrophe. Look at it... Look at it... forced to stand curved-bit deep in its own humiliation, an enduring reminder that it simply should not be⁶ and proof that the collective intelligence of the average grocery store worker is still ever-so steadily declining; the mechanically lurching down escalator in a grey-matter rendering plant.

Even more sadly, this is in a more upscale store; that section itself recently remodeled. You'd think that they'd have someone in the advertising and signs department capable of proper language structure. After all, these are people who are hired specifically for their communication skills.

If one is going to summarily turn the proverbial pooch of one's language into one's prison bitch, as it were, one should at least be consistent. A few days later, I ran into the following in a store selling the goods of the Galactic Empire⁷:

Yes. That is a photo recording of three separate spellings of "boys" (with plural, possessive, and group possessive represented), all within visual distance of one another. Considering the common clientele of said warehouse of despair, I'd be surprised if they could glance up from their passel of genetic cast-offs long enough to notice.

I'm accelerating the plans to re-construct my doomsday device. Not a single one of these imbeciles deserve to continue polluting this planet.

1. A working vacation, yes... but as they say, make your vocation into your vacation! That's why "all the screaming", as it were.

2. The immediate circle at my "menial day job" is largely imbecile-free, thankfully. It's when that circle expands that they start slipping in, banana slugs to my creative energy's soft, succulent salad leaves.
3. Evidently, towards the lower side of that average...
4. Or an ASCII code and how to use one.
5. I might be willing to grant someone uneducated more leniency, but probably not. A completely uneducated bag of meat wouldn't be copywriting signs in a grocery store, they would be out filling their boots with gravel, or driving UPS trucks, or cooking digestible protein at one of your "fast food" joints, or going to tea party rallies, or standing around in the rain with their mouths open and drowning... whatever it is that uneducated people do for fun for their short, meaningless existences these days. I miss natural selection.
6. If you listen close, you can hear its quiet squeaking: "Kill meeeee..."
7. Logos do not lie. Observe.

And now, for a taste of things to come... *gong*

Well, last week turned into nearly an entire week of relaxation, without having to worry about deadlines¹ or laboratory mishaps². Don't you worry though, little reader, for I have something BIG planned soon, oh yes I do! You'll just have to wait and see...


Also, a quick report about the tents selling TNT. There was no trinitrotoluene to be purchased from the purveyors of the establishment, nor were there any blocks of C4, vials of nitroglycerin, miscellaneous rockets, plutonium-239, or any other explosive devices or compounds: mere pittances of colored gunpowder stuffed into little paper tubes, designed to light up and pop loudly when the detonator cord was lit. Nothing more than what the average four year old in my former island nation carried when leaving whatever passed for their domicile³ to scare away predators⁴, or used as playthings by infants.

I was disappointed.

However, aside from one of the hounds fearing the loud, sudden noises the explosions on the night of the 4^th were ... amusing.

More to come soon, mortal weaklings.

1. Definitely a change of pace -- I had nothing (and nobody) to ransom, so there was no time to expire and no evil obligations because of it.
2. I was rather upset at the abject failure of several minions, however.
3. ...for their shift in the coal mines.
4. This often did not work. Most of the predators were either top-of-the-food-chain, genetically-altered beasts or cyborgs that carried larger weapons themselves. The only things these devices would reliably scare away were the crazed hobo population, which became evermore curious to me for their resilience in the face of said predators in the latter days of my evil empire.

Ranter's Lament

Yesterday I wanted to relax a bit for my evening, and a bit turned into a lot. Later, I didn't feel like digitally archiving my thoughts, so you wretches get another special Tuesday bonus edition of Overlord in Exile¹ just like last week. Aren't you lucky. Don't come to expect it though.

I've been finding my undercover status... inconvenient, lately. My isolated fortress allowed me to avoid contact with the rabble, no matter how much they beat at the portcullis with pitchforks and torches². Unfortunately, with my current situation, I'm forced to do things such as "shopping" and "picking stuff up on my way home from drudgery." This leads to myself, omnipotent humble genius³, being thrust into close quarters with the great unwashed masses⁴. This inevitably results in chains of human detritus, sometimes attached by harnesses and sometimes free-floating, clustered around a shopping cart, blocking my path and generally making nuisances of themselves. They are often reminiscent of the cloudy stringers descending from the mother in a jar of vinegar, or the twisted mass of a jellyfish's tentacles, stinging and feeding upon the unwary.

While infuriating, this is not even the most bothersome part. Biological life is messy and, in truth, often causing inconvenient obstructions⁵. It tends to multiply uncontrollably, more so the less intelligent it is. While palpable, it is akin to despising the motion of the tides⁶. No, the inspiration for a loathing with the seething intensity of an Ebola outbreak in Manhattan is the inability of the (often massive) nucleus of such a cluster to fail to notice either the vile behavior of its spawn or the fact that I am... very patiently... waiting and trying to pass while it vacantly stares at the shelf, attempting to decide whether to purchase chocolate frosted sugar bombs for its hyperactive lineage or to go with the generic variety, saving a good portion of its annual income in the process. I know that I am in its peripheral vision, and that my cloaking generator is not on my persona⁷.

Normally, I would simply excite the chemical bonds of every atom in each of their impudent flesh until they burst into flame, or pull out a hyperneutrino phase-wave collapser and cause them to dissolve like a sugar cube in tea, or fold a U.S. one hundred dollar bill, fold it into the shape of an atmospheric dart assault craft and throw it into freeway traffic while they watched and let natural selection take its course. However, all of these admittedly tantalizing options would draw far too much attention to my presence and power, revealing me to my enemies.

So I stand there... staring... resisting the urge to open my mouth for fear of the obscenities that would pour forth, coating them in a sludge so viscous that they could not breathe; my hand twitches, resisting the impulse to lift their fully loaded cart over my head and bring it down upon them as a club, crushing them beneath it as flat as the final stage in the life cycle of a common opossum.

No, no... I wait, and commit each line and every fold of the foul creature's upper protrusion that can only be tangentially called a face to memory, assigning it a priority that rises the longer I wait, and plot my revenge.

For now, I am off... there are curious... "tents" that have popped up at various locations all over town, advertising the free and open sale of rockets and trinitrotoluene by the barrelful. Evidently they take all manner of credit, as well. This merits investigation.


1. Now with 10% more snarkiness!
2. This stopped once I installed the automatic drawbridge. Amusingly, it had enough torque and tensile strength to actually catapault people on it when I'd shut it fast enough. Glee!
3. ...and Champion Supreme of footnotes!
4. And indeed, depending on the store, "unwashed" only begins to describe the stench.
5. The piled corpses of my slain enemies, for instance, can sometimes make it difficult for my chariot to pass. They also used to fill up the moat before I switched to the magma-filled model, solving the problem with the price of leaving a faint ashy residue about.
6. ...which can be changed, but you need a graviton mass displacement generator, appropriate feedstock (napkin-math says about 700 rabbits or 40 orphans will do) and about 4600 GW of electricity. Preferably provided by solar sources; I must think about my planet's overall health these days.
7. Having left it in the lab of my island fortress during the insurrection, and not having enough tellurium to build another... yet.

Inadvised Advertise.

So I've had these for a little while now, figured that since today I felt lazy, I could use them to fulfill my self-imposed requirement to write.

Hey everyone!  Who's up for a Clubb Massage??

Call Bill E. now to reserve your time!

While we're on the subject...

OF COURSE it's "real beef"...

...except that 12% mysterious "signature recipe". Which, incidentally, might actually be a finely-chopped, signed paper recipe¹.

1. Yes, the photo quality is terrible. I took it while going through the drive through².
2. You might be asking yourself, "Self? Why was he going through the drive through?" Your self would answer "I don't know, sheesh! Now concentrate on driving before OH SHIT LOOK OUT!" Of course, your sad, distracted mind couldn't know that I was there to make a delivery. I mean, what else am I going to DO with all that failed genetic experimentation³? Taco Bell takes it all and doesn't ask questions. Just the way I like it.
3. The genetic experimentation is on Lettuce. Sometimes tomatoes. Nothing that would constitute the 88% "premium⁴ ground beef".
4. "Premium Ground Beef" takes on a much darker tone when you realize it was probably first said in the Taco Bell context as "Preemie... uhm... 'ground beef'."⁵
5. Inappropriate quotation marks for the win!

Hell hath no wrath...

So. It's a late post, again... but I also have a good excuse. Not that I need to explain myself to you parasites.

I've been rather... irritated all day at myself.  After having blood siphoned out yesterday, I was rather light-headed. So when I left my menial job for my current lair, I left my cell phone behind.

I noticed immediately after entering my domicile and dealing with the hounds. Knowing there is a mere 15 feet from the door of my work to my vehicle, it was covered in concrete, and nigh-silent that time of the evening, I would have heard and noted any out-of-place sound, particularly one of the cell-phone-falling-to-the-ground variety. So it was very likely that the phone was either still on my desk, or in the restroom on a shelf (where I stopped momentarily on my way out). I resolved to live without my personal electronic device¹ for the entire evening and get it tomorrow when I arrived at the salt mines. I called a trusted co-worker that arrived earlier than I did to check if he saw it when he got in in the morning.

It appears Underestimating the foulness of the sad, mostly-fluid sacks of human detritus that inhabit my place of employment after-hours.

My phone was nowhere to be found in the morning, and I checked with the front desk to see if anyone had turned anything in. I sent out a department-wide electronic communique. The janitorial service was called.

Nothing.

The janitorial service was going to "check with their night crew" but never got back to my contact in the happiness-suppression part of my day. However, little do the thieves know... I have tracking software installed on my phone. When I arrived home, my system pinged with 4 hits, near a university's hall, near to my place of unenjoyment. The signal was weak, only getting within a mile of certainty before the battery went out and the phone shut off again.

This effectively eliminates me dropping it in the office.

If it is not returned in the morning, I will be rather... upset. Sadly, I didn't finish my electroshock application², so direct action is not possible. However, I can track the thief down when the phone is again charged and cause it to emit a loud screeching sound, locating them effectively. Then I can vaporize them with extreme prejudice.

Wish me luck, and pray that my wrath does not make me alter more of the city.

1. It makes phone calls, keeps my schedule straight, and contains the encryption algorithms for the nuclear launch codes. It's fun dialing the system and entering them, and watching from the built-in cameras as cardiac arrests occur from the system control operators. Oh, yes, it also has iWeight installed! From AlyredCorp© - Nanoforging a better tomorrow using raw nature today®.
2. I never got around the power-to-shock-value issue. I could either do a 10 second 5v shock or a .001 millisecond 23,000 volt shock before the battery would die. Yes, even with the extended-use one. The only solution so far was to have a 40 kg battery attached by belt, effectively eliminating the usefulness of a shock-app except for a fun joke to play on friends.