We're back from Jimmy's. It saved us a couple hours that we found the poor kid strung out on his sofa and barely breathing when we arrived. The paramedics picked him up at 3:30, and we were back at the Homestead by four.
PePe is irate. He's very protective of his Peruvian brethren, and he proposes that we go find that Assistant District Attorney, bust his door down, and waterboard him.
I say we wait.
There will indeed come a time when Phutatorius & Co. resort to force. In fact, unless I can put together one hell of a Marketing Department, that's how this has to play out.
I am reluctant, however, to take that big step just now. Mine is a long row to hoe — long and at times lonely. I knew when I embarked that there would be provocations along the way, and they would number in the hundreds.
The important thing is to remember to put one's head down, focus on the goal, press on ahead. It can be too easy to succumb to distractions, to wander down sideroads and get lost or mugged by the footpads of the Establishment. We have power now, to be sure — I'm an intermediate-level Elite Incan Dance Fighter (the Master Trainer reviewed my latest training video and sent me my certificate in the mail) — but we're not so strong yet that I can afford the bad pub that would follow from dunking this punk prosecutor in his stationary tub for an evening.
To me, the better bet right now is to take the high road and float some money from the WDF for Jimmy's rehab. It's not obvious to me that Jimmy wouldn't have OD'd this morning irregardless. In fact, were it not for these oppressive inquiries from that ADA, we certainly would not have trekked down to East Cambridge to give Jimmy our reassurances. Who know who would have found him — and when?
When I'm running the Show, B/S, I'm going to do something about drugs. This I promise you. Jimmy Atahualpa is a friend of mine. This issue is personal for me now.
In the meantime, our afternoon just opened up. Talk about a gift! It's off to The Cheesecake Factory for an afternoon snack: spinach/artichoke dip for me, and I'll be smuggling in my own white-corn Tostitos.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Harassment
Yesterday I got a letter from this persnickety prosecutor-guy in Boston. Jerkoff wants to know if we obtained Criminal Offender Record Information (CORI) on Jimmy Atahualpa before we let the kiddies pile on him and mock-stab him at the fundraiser.
I guess there's some kind of law requiring you to do this if you're an "entity or organization primarily engaged in providing activities or programs to children 18 years of age."
Now I get the point of this: God forbid some day care program hires some recidivist freakazoid to mop the floors while the kids are around. A law that will stop that makes a heck of a lot of sense to me. Fine. I'll keep it on the books after the Ascendancy.
What this DA-guy's doing here is harassment. Everybody knows Jimmy Atahualpa is a stand-up guy. Sure he has his demons, but if a substance abuser can have a kid, then certainly a substance abuser can spend an impromptu couple of hours breaking up fake-blood capsules and pretend-dying with kids, in plain view of the public on a goddam Saturday afternoon. It's not like the blood is real, or Jimmy's a needle-sharer. The guy has his own leather-bound kit: I've seen it.
Talk about stretching the law: suppose we have an office picnic and the Stenos bring their nieces and nephews with them? Do I have to file paperwork before I challenge these kids to a friendly game of lawn darts? Do I?
PePe's in the other room, and I can't hear him. Hold on a minute.
* * *
All right, I'm back. PePe tells me lawn darts are illegal in the United States. I don't know where he gets this information, but it checks out. So fine — bad example. My point is that we don't suddenly become an organization "primarily engaged in providing activities or programs to children under 18." What we are is an organization "primarily engaged" in an ongoing effort to acquire and consolidate ultimate power over the entire human race. I mean, duh.
You know what it is: these DA-types always have political aspirations of their own. That's what this is about. Investigations like these — they're always politically-motivated. It won't be the last one I have to deal with, and I've got thick skin.
My concern right now is for Jimmy. He thinks all this is his fault, and he's been writing me emails apologizing to me all day. I'd love to reach right through the computer right now and give him a big hug. But I can't, so I'll instead have to get in the car and drive all the way across town to his place tomorrow to assure him everything's OK with him and me. Then he'll want to show me hospitality and offer me lunch, but of course, just like a junkie he won't have anything in the refrigerator, so I'll have to drive him to the store. I won't get out of there until at least six o'clock in the goddam evening
It's just a waste of everybody's time.
I guess there's some kind of law requiring you to do this if you're an "entity or organization primarily engaged in providing activities or programs to children 18 years of age."
Now I get the point of this: God forbid some day care program hires some recidivist freakazoid to mop the floors while the kids are around. A law that will stop that makes a heck of a lot of sense to me. Fine. I'll keep it on the books after the Ascendancy.
What this DA-guy's doing here is harassment. Everybody knows Jimmy Atahualpa is a stand-up guy. Sure he has his demons, but if a substance abuser can have a kid, then certainly a substance abuser can spend an impromptu couple of hours breaking up fake-blood capsules and pretend-dying with kids, in plain view of the public on a goddam Saturday afternoon. It's not like the blood is real, or Jimmy's a needle-sharer. The guy has his own leather-bound kit: I've seen it.
Talk about stretching the law: suppose we have an office picnic and the Stenos bring their nieces and nephews with them? Do I have to file paperwork before I challenge these kids to a friendly game of lawn darts? Do I?
PePe's in the other room, and I can't hear him. Hold on a minute.
* * *
All right, I'm back. PePe tells me lawn darts are illegal in the United States. I don't know where he gets this information, but it checks out. So fine — bad example. My point is that we don't suddenly become an organization "primarily engaged in providing activities or programs to children under 18." What we are is an organization "primarily engaged" in an ongoing effort to acquire and consolidate ultimate power over the entire human race. I mean, duh.
You know what it is: these DA-types always have political aspirations of their own. That's what this is about. Investigations like these — they're always politically-motivated. It won't be the last one I have to deal with, and I've got thick skin.
My concern right now is for Jimmy. He thinks all this is his fault, and he's been writing me emails apologizing to me all day. I'd love to reach right through the computer right now and give him a big hug. But I can't, so I'll instead have to get in the car and drive all the way across town to his place tomorrow to assure him everything's OK with him and me. Then he'll want to show me hospitality and offer me lunch, but of course, just like a junkie he won't have anything in the refrigerator, so I'll have to drive him to the store. I won't get out of there until at least six o'clock in the goddam evening
It's just a waste of everybody's time.
Friday, July 14, 2006
(!)
Just a quick note:
Eliezer from Capetown writes that I've been perhaps a bit too liberal lately with my use of exclamation points in post titles. He is considering whether or not to back me as World Hegemon, and he fears that a Phutatorian Regime might go on a punctuational rampage and pollute the landscape with unwarranted marks of emphasis.
I think this is a fair criticism. After all, imagine how gaudy Las Vegas would become, if you added [!] to all the neon signs and billboards!!
Though I expect to delegate the matter to an Official Aesthetician —
Aesthete! PePe just shouted from the other room (but I think he's wrong on this one).
— you can expect I'll be hands-on with regard to any legislation involving punctuation in signage.
To Mr. Eliezer's second point — about how overuse of the exclamation point results in a devaluation of emphasis — I say this: there are plenty of excess exclamation points floating around out there, just waiting to be put to meaningful use.
Why, as it happens, a great deal of the World Population speaks Spanish, and Spanish-speakers double up on this commodity in their writings, putting the inverted ! or ¡ (as it appears) at the beginning of each excited utterance that they commit to the printed page. If necessary, I can simply place an embargo on this practice, requisition the excess ¡s from Latin America, Spain, and the Philippines, and turn them right-side up for deployment as necessary to convey the strength of my conviction in official proclamations.
So even if I need to serve up two, three, or even four exclamation points to express my will to the public, I should have plenty of reserves at my disposal.
Thanks for writing, Eliezer. It was worth taking the time to think this matter through, and I really do appreciate the aesthetic point you made about my punctuation, even if I find your economic worry a bit overblown.
As to Yentl from Glasgow and her complaint about my predilection for dashes — she can go to h—, that g—d— f— ———-kissing horse-faced b—.
(Bet you like my dashes now, lassie, now that I've confronted you with a brutal alternative . . .)
Eliezer from Capetown writes that I've been perhaps a bit too liberal lately with my use of exclamation points in post titles. He is considering whether or not to back me as World Hegemon, and he fears that a Phutatorian Regime might go on a punctuational rampage and pollute the landscape with unwarranted marks of emphasis.
I think this is a fair criticism. After all, imagine how gaudy Las Vegas would become, if you added [!] to all the neon signs and billboards!!
Though I expect to delegate the matter to an Official Aesthetician —
Aesthete! PePe just shouted from the other room (but I think he's wrong on this one).
— you can expect I'll be hands-on with regard to any legislation involving punctuation in signage.
To Mr. Eliezer's second point — about how overuse of the exclamation point results in a devaluation of emphasis — I say this: there are plenty of excess exclamation points floating around out there, just waiting to be put to meaningful use.
Why, as it happens, a great deal of the World Population speaks Spanish, and Spanish-speakers double up on this commodity in their writings, putting the inverted ! or ¡ (as it appears) at the beginning of each excited utterance that they commit to the printed page. If necessary, I can simply place an embargo on this practice, requisition the excess ¡s from Latin America, Spain, and the Philippines, and turn them right-side up for deployment as necessary to convey the strength of my conviction in official proclamations.
So even if I need to serve up two, three, or even four exclamation points to express my will to the public, I should have plenty of reserves at my disposal.
Thanks for writing, Eliezer. It was worth taking the time to think this matter through, and I really do appreciate the aesthetic point you made about my punctuation, even if I find your economic worry a bit overblown.
As to Yentl from Glasgow and her complaint about my predilection for dashes — she can go to h—, that g—d— f— ———-kissing horse-faced b—.
(Bet you like my dashes now, lassie, now that I've confronted you with a brutal alternative . . .)
Monday, July 10, 2006
Vittoria!
I just collected on my World Cup victory. Add another hundred grand into Phutsie & Co.'s July receipts. What a month!
It's been suggested that certain agents of mine injected PCP into Zinedine Zidane's pregame croissant. To these accusers I say only this: (1) PePe was only in Berlin to celebrate his great-aunt's 80th birthday — he can produce the party favors to corroborate this; (2) had I really so conspired to slip Zizzou a mickey, you can bet I'd have dealt him a bigger dose. That guy hung around 110 minutes before he cracked up, and in the interim he very nearly did in my Azzurri.
But whatever — I suppose that's what comes of acquiring overnight celebrity. "Loot the Church" wins primo CNN coverage, a putz like O'Reilly starts ranting on you, and people start to get the idea you'll do anything for money.
Anyway.
WDF account balance: $416,388.12.
It's been suggested that certain agents of mine injected PCP into Zinedine Zidane's pregame croissant. To these accusers I say only this: (1) PePe was only in Berlin to celebrate his great-aunt's 80th birthday — he can produce the party favors to corroborate this; (2) had I really so conspired to slip Zizzou a mickey, you can bet I'd have dealt him a bigger dose. That guy hung around 110 minutes before he cracked up, and in the interim he very nearly did in my Azzurri.
But whatever — I suppose that's what comes of acquiring overnight celebrity. "Loot the Church" wins primo CNN coverage, a putz like O'Reilly starts ranting on you, and people start to get the idea you'll do anything for money.
Anyway.
WDF account balance: $416,388.12.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Forza Italia!
I know it's reckless to be gambling with the Fund money, but I've got a good feeling. $100K down on Italy to win the Cup final tomorrow.
Friday, July 07, 2006
And a Good Time Was Had by All
Well, Brothers & Sisters, that was a party. Such a party, in fact, that I've spent the last few days recovering from it. I know I know — I swore off after-parties after that post-auction bender the Staff and I went on in New York. But when you raise $138K in one afternoon (that's net, people) you want to go celebrate.
I'd like to thank everybody who came out — I don't have the figures in front of me, but the turnout was tremendous, well over 5000 people. With so many people anxious to participate, we ended up extending the fundraiser three additional hours. In fact, we had to plant twice as much money as we had originally earmarked for the looting — but that meant we earned twice as much, too.
Some strokes of genius I'd like to credit to the Staff:
(1) The staged reenactments of Thomas Beckett's assassination-by-stabbing in the chapel were a hit with audiences and critics alike. Big snaps to Dead Eye for working up the concept, and thanks to Jimmy Atahualpa for playing — in grand style — the role of the beleaguered Archbishop. Jimmy, your extended death performances were positively Shakespearean.
Many of you Harvard Square-frequenters probably know about the problems Jimmy's been having with the drugs and alcohol. Still, he really came through for us on Saturday afternoon. The kids just love Jimmy, and when Dead Eye got the idea to let the under-12s join in with the mock-stabbing, he bought right in to the program. Talk about a good sport! That extra bit of on-the-fly entrepreneurism — five bucks for a crack at this anti-royal SOB! — earned us probably five to ten thousand bucks on top of the admissions fees. And I don't doubt our Beckett sustained a few bumps and bruises from the enthusiastic kiddies.
(Jimmy, good buddy: you DO have something to offer the world — and don't you EVER forget it.)
(2) To the Sound Guy We Hired (I forget his name): nice work. The chanting and creaking, the ubiquitous sound of approaching footsteps really thrilled our looters, particularly in the dark corridors.
(3) Opie did the Steno shift for the afternoon. I know it wasn't easy following me through the crowd with the equipment, and I appreciate the yeoman's work.
(4) Frankie Big Cheese: the Gold Membership Plan was a brilliant idea. The airlines and car rental companies know their business — there is money to be made by offering tiers of service. In fact, it's downright amazing what people will pay for a little extra special treatment and a cardboard crown. Gold Members enjoyed off-street parking in the church lot, received discounts on pie, and were allowed one free shakedown of a fellow looter, so long as it took place inside the church.
(5) PePe, once again you went above and beyond the call of duty. Who knew you could gin up a Popemobile in Boston on such short notice? I'm not one for the limelight, but I rather enjoyed the impromptu parade. Thanks for the surprise, Brother. Much love, indeed.
We'll be compiling a mailing list from the entries in the guest book. I saw Burping Squid's name up front — were you there, buddy? Might have been nice to make your acquaintance, finally — you seem like a thinking man, when you're not being a shit.
Finally, I'd like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who participated in the counterdemonstration across the street. It's not easy to organize something like that on short notice, but we mustered a goodly-sized crowd to shout down all those no-fun sad-sacks who showed up to protest the event. Of course, it helped that half of the Enemy Demonstrators had duct tape over their mouths. (That's something I'll never get, people — this trend with the duct tape. You're doing half the work of the riot police for them.) But hey — whatever. Our crowd was nice and loud; it did its job and was largely well-behaved.
The upshot of it all is this: an afternoon of community outreach, tons of media coverage, and the running total in the World Domination Fund is now $316,495.31.
We're on a roll, baby!
I'd like to thank everybody who came out — I don't have the figures in front of me, but the turnout was tremendous, well over 5000 people. With so many people anxious to participate, we ended up extending the fundraiser three additional hours. In fact, we had to plant twice as much money as we had originally earmarked for the looting — but that meant we earned twice as much, too.
Some strokes of genius I'd like to credit to the Staff:
(1) The staged reenactments of Thomas Beckett's assassination-by-stabbing in the chapel were a hit with audiences and critics alike. Big snaps to Dead Eye for working up the concept, and thanks to Jimmy Atahualpa for playing — in grand style — the role of the beleaguered Archbishop. Jimmy, your extended death performances were positively Shakespearean.
Many of you Harvard Square-frequenters probably know about the problems Jimmy's been having with the drugs and alcohol. Still, he really came through for us on Saturday afternoon. The kids just love Jimmy, and when Dead Eye got the idea to let the under-12s join in with the mock-stabbing, he bought right in to the program. Talk about a good sport! That extra bit of on-the-fly entrepreneurism — five bucks for a crack at this anti-royal SOB! — earned us probably five to ten thousand bucks on top of the admissions fees. And I don't doubt our Beckett sustained a few bumps and bruises from the enthusiastic kiddies.
(Jimmy, good buddy: you DO have something to offer the world — and don't you EVER forget it.)
(2) To the Sound Guy We Hired (I forget his name): nice work. The chanting and creaking, the ubiquitous sound of approaching footsteps really thrilled our looters, particularly in the dark corridors.
(3) Opie did the Steno shift for the afternoon. I know it wasn't easy following me through the crowd with the equipment, and I appreciate the yeoman's work.
(4) Frankie Big Cheese: the Gold Membership Plan was a brilliant idea. The airlines and car rental companies know their business — there is money to be made by offering tiers of service. In fact, it's downright amazing what people will pay for a little extra special treatment and a cardboard crown. Gold Members enjoyed off-street parking in the church lot, received discounts on pie, and were allowed one free shakedown of a fellow looter, so long as it took place inside the church.
(5) PePe, once again you went above and beyond the call of duty. Who knew you could gin up a Popemobile in Boston on such short notice? I'm not one for the limelight, but I rather enjoyed the impromptu parade. Thanks for the surprise, Brother. Much love, indeed.
We'll be compiling a mailing list from the entries in the guest book. I saw Burping Squid's name up front — were you there, buddy? Might have been nice to make your acquaintance, finally — you seem like a thinking man, when you're not being a shit.
Finally, I'd like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who participated in the counterdemonstration across the street. It's not easy to organize something like that on short notice, but we mustered a goodly-sized crowd to shout down all those no-fun sad-sacks who showed up to protest the event. Of course, it helped that half of the Enemy Demonstrators had duct tape over their mouths. (That's something I'll never get, people — this trend with the duct tape. You're doing half the work of the riot police for them.) But hey — whatever. Our crowd was nice and loud; it did its job and was largely well-behaved.
The upshot of it all is this: an afternoon of community outreach, tons of media coverage, and the running total in the World Domination Fund is now $316,495.31.
We're on a roll, baby!
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