By John Saleeby
September, 16, 2001
Many years ago when
I was in The Army we saw a live TV news report about a horrible mass
murder that occurred in a McDonalds somewhere. When our Commanding Officer
exclaimed "My God! How can you pull out a gun in a fast food restaurant
full of women and children and start shooting at everybody?" I said
"Guess you've never been in a fast food restaurant full of women and
children." Thirty-six hours later I was on a top-secret mission against
a falafel stand in Baghdad.
Cause, come on - Face it,
deep down inside each and every one of us there is a bloodthirsty psychotic
serial killer just waiting to take over and the only way to control
The Killer Inside is to get him knocked out on Long Island Iced Teas,
dress him up on a Little Lord Fauntleroy Outfit, and make him sing "Animal
Crackers In My Soup" on a subway platform in front of all the Black
guys. But what about that other guy deep down inside who would just
LOVE to have a few Long Island Iced Teas, dress up like Little Lord
Fauntleroy, and do a lil' Song And Dance for the Fellas? My God, let
that douchebag run the show and next thing you know you'll be running
your very own Hollywood movie studio with Steven Spielberg and Jerry
Katzenberg! Let that clown get the wheel and there's only one way to
hit the brakes - Get your sorry ass out there and KILL SOMEBODY!
These happy thoughts were
first brought to mind by the two separate killing sprees that recently
occurred in Sacramento, California - Home of Acid Logic editor, Wil
Forbis. In fact, I was genuinely surprised to learn that Forbis
was not one of the victims of these attacks. I've never even met Forbis,
but from my dealings with him I am pretty sure that if I did meet him
I would be trying to murder him pretty damn quick. And as horrible a
person as Forbis is, I am sure that killing him would be such a pleasure
I'd just go right on killing people until Roy Scheider shoved an oxygen
tank into my mouth and blew it up by shooting it with an M-1 rifle.
But no, Forbis was not killed. Apparently he is as difficult to target
as Osama bin Laden.
First, some Ukrainian psycho
slaughtered his whole family cause he thought they were trying to poison
him. Hey, don't laugh - Every time I'm driving around with my Dad looking
for something to eat he always tries to get me to eat at ARBY'S!
"Mmm, there's an Arby's.
You wanna eat at Arby's?"
"Dad, how many times do
I gotta tell ya this story? I ate a coupla Arby's roast beef sandwiches
last winter and I damn near died!"
"Aw, c'mon! Let's have a
coupla roast beef sandwiches!"
"NOOOOO!!! I ate a coupla
them things and three hours later I'm laying on my bathroom floor sweatin'
my ass off and prayin' for Jesus to come down and put me outta my misery!"
"It won't happen again,
ya big queer! C'mon - ARBY'S! ARBY'S! ARBY'S!"
"No! No! No! No! I was pukin'
my guts out! I was hallucinatin' that the bathroom tiles had little
Peter Lorre faces! My soul left my body and went up into the medicine
cabinet and hid behind a bottle of Nyquil!!"
"Aw, let's have some roast
beef sandwiches and french fries!"
The man is clearly out to
kill me and the whole family is in cahoots with him. I'd kill 'em all
right now but I'm gonna wait until I have a pregnant wife like that
nutty Ukrainian dude.
So that was bad, but then
another Sacromentosian went on a shooting spree cause he lost his job
and his girlfriend. Sounds like someone's been listening to too many
Bruce Springsteen records. Getting dumped by a broad and getting the
sack has really gotta be some kinda drag. Nothing like that has ever
happened to me, of course, I'm much too happening a guy to have ever
experienced that kinda humiliation. Whenever I have the feeling that
I'm about to get the ol' heave ho from my woman or my boss, ( Hey, what's
the difference? Haw haw haw! ) I swing into preemptive action - I de-pants
them and go gaily prancing off into the awful night singing "Hey, Non
Nonny And A Ha Cha Cha!". But most guys don't have that kinda moral
fiber (Not after exposure to the deadly Springsteen Virus, anyway) and
I guess violence is a handy substitute. Tsk tsk tsk . . . It's just
too damn bad this guy couldn't con his mom and dad into sending him
to film school cause at least he had the Scorseseosity to make a videotape
of himself reenacting Brando's "Coulda beena contenda" monolgue from
"On Da Waddafront" and braggin' that he had raised enough a ruckus to
keep the news media busy for a week. Nice try, Sparky, but then the
next day, World Trade Center got knocked down by a coupla airplanes
and now who can even remember that guy's name? Sheesh, if something
like that had happened a day or two after the Sharon Tate massacre,
Charles Manson wouldn't any more of a celebrity than Margaret Cho.
First of all, I don't want
to hear anymore of these stories about people on the hijacked planes,
inside the World Trade Center, or trapped inside the wreckage using
their cell phones to make calls to their loved ones. I mean, Bloody
Hell - I was sitting around all by myself worrying about those people
for hours and hours and nobody thought to call me up even once! What
am I? Chopped liver? Damn!
The TV networks are showing
nothing but jet airliners flying into buildings and each one has their
own cute little title for the spectacle - On ABC it's "Target America",
on CBS it's "Attack On America", CNN has "America Under Attack", Fox
has "Terrorism Hits America", and of course on the WB it's "Terror In
The public has responded
with such interest in the network's All Day-All Night coverage of the
terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon that the
networks have cancelled every single one of their prime time series
to schedule absolutely nothing but Peter Jennings, Tom Brokaw, and Dan
Rather talking about jet airliners crashing into buildings. No more
"Will And Grace," no more "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire," no more "Everybody
Loves Raymond", nothing but jet airliners crashing into buildings, jet
airliners crashing into buildings, jet airliners crashing into buildings!
No more sit-coms, no more dramas, no more game shows, all we want are
jet airliners crashing into dem buildings! Now, now, now, all you ol'
fogies who don't wanna see nothin' but dem sit-coms, dramas, and game
shows may get to some more of that corny ass Twentieth Century crap
eventually but by then it will probably all be sit-coms about jet airliners
crashing into buildings, dramas about jet airliners crashing into buildings,
and game shows about jet airliners crashing into buildings. And, anyway,
what the hell kind of American are you that you would rather see some
dumb ass sit-com or drama or game show instead of jet airliners crashing
into buildings? Friggin' Commie bastid! Well, I don't know about you,
but speaking as a red blooded American Christian Heterosexual With A
Capital H, if I ever see another episode of "Will And Grace" they better
at least be covered with dust from the falling rubble of Our Beautiful
World Trade Center, The Twin Towers, The Pubescent Olsons Of The Sky!
And if Grace is still balling that stupid Woody Harrelson prick I want
to see him get hit right on his stoned shaved head by a chunk of concrete
the size of Rosie O'Donnell's big depressed ass. Except for that nasty
little bitch Karen, she's too fine to be covered with dust. If she gets
covered with dust I wanna see a big nasty black lesbian fire fighter
Amazon chick squirt her all over with a firehose - In slow motion while
they play Roxy Music's "Love Is A Drug" on the soundtrack. Because America
Will the rednecks kick my
ass of I dress up like Osama bin Laden this Halloween? Cause I think
it would be really funny if I dressed up like Osama bin Laden this Halloween,
don't you? Now, you better not be sayin' "No, it won't be funny" and
then let me catch you galavantin' around town decked out in your bin
Laden fineness. Boy, I will kick your ass before the rednecks get you!
Oooooh! I know what I'll do! (Saleeby stands up, puts finger in air)
I'll dress up like beloved Confederate General Stonewall Jackson underneath
my Osama bin Laden costume so if the rednecks waylay me with evil intent
I'll bewitch 'em into believing that I am dressed up as Ol' Stonewall
on his way to a Klan rally! Hoo hii! High Fives All Around! (Saleeby
sits down, puts finger in nose.)
Ah, what a tangled web we
weave when we practice to believe.