Poll #32 What do we do with Tilikum, the “killer” whale?

     The following is an excerpt from a recently discovered journal believed to belong to Amelia Earhart’s unnamed and almost unknown navigator, written during their long, but doomed flight around the world in 1937 which was believed to end in the South Pacific at the hands of sneaky Japanese fighter pilots after she discovered Admiral Yamamoto’s dastardly plan to attack Pearl Harbor.

June 1, 1937:  Departed Miami.  Everything going ok.  Heading south over Cuba and the Caribbean.  Cha cha cha!

June 5, 1937:  Arrived Fortaleza, Brazil.  Boy, I seem to have lost a few days there.  Amelia says I had a “great” time in Capripito, Venezuela but I sure don’t remember anything.  She keeps snickering and saying that maybe I should lay off the juice for the rest of the trip before I find myself so drunk that I can’t navigate my way out of a paper bag.  I told her to just stick to the flying & I’ll get us to where we’ve got to go.

June 8, 1937:  Saint Louis…no, not that Saint Louis, but Saint Louis, Senegal.  Haha.  Finished the Atlantic crossing without any mishap.  Saw lots of killer whales down in the ocean as we were flying over.  I’d hate to meet up with one of ‘em if we crashed.  Of course, there’s no chance of that.  Amelia’s a good pilot & I’m a better navigator.  Damn, sure wish she had bigger boobs though.

June 11, 1937:  Fort Lamy, French Equatorial Africa.  Completed our first 1000 miles over the “dark” continent.  Kinda scary, few places to set it down if we had trouble.  The people are pretty friendly and get this: the women don’t wear any shirts.  Giggle.  Wish Amelia would take a lesson from them!

June 13, 1937: Assab, Eritrea:  Well, Africa is behind us!  Flying low over the Red Sea and the Arabian Peninsula.  Thought I saw some more killer whales but then decided that the light was playing tricks on my eyes.  I’ll tell you what, after this trip is over and I’ve become a millionaire, I might try my hand at starting an airline.  That’s where the real money’s at!  Maybe I’ll paint my planes like killer whales.  That would be cool.  Wait a minute; Miss “Prissy” is calling me up to the cockpit.  Probably needs another directional fix (she can’t navigate her way out of a paper bag, boobs or no boobs!)

June 15, 1937:  Karachi, India.  What a long flight.  Finally landed and I can’t understand a word these people are saying.  Sounds like: “Halakala, halakala, halakala.”

June 20, 1937:  Singapore.  Engines running a little rough.  All the way down the peninsula all I heard was “blah, blah, blah.”  Wish she would shut up every one in a while.  Anyway, I think “Her Highness” is going to want to do a little work on the plane when we get to the Dutch East Indies.  Yeah, I’ve got something for her to work on.

June 29, 1937:  Darwin, Australia.  Overhauled the engines and flew over Java to Darwin.  Saw some more killer whales as we approached the Australian coast.  Reminded me of my dream of becoming an airline mogul.  Lot’s of room for expansion in the southwest part of the U.S.  Now if I can only come up with a good name that people would luv (sic.)

July 2, 1937:  Lae, New Guinea.  The locals are telling stories of sighting strange aircraft with “meatballs” on their wings flying in the area.  Note to self: Check with the Coast Guard cutter when we get to Howland Island about which country has red circle symbols on their aircraft.  Amelia being very secretive about something.  Says she just learned something “real” important and that we need to leave for Howland ASAP.  I told her that we’re still waiting on a couple of drums of avgas from Australia but she thinks we can make it on what we’ve got onboard if we lean the engines out.  I think she’s crazy but it’s not like we’re going to be dogfighting or anything.  Haha.  Damn, I wish she had bigger boobs…

     That’s as far as our researchers have gotten with this mysterious journal.  They are still working on restoring and preserving the next section of the journal but it is hard work, what with the seawater contamination and bullet holes.

Poll #31 ends. We have a “no-fly” zone over Libya. What, exactly, does that mean?

     Madam Geneva, our resident gypsy here at the Harrumph bunker, has once again been able to channel the ghost of General George S. Patton to help us understand the “Libyan problem.”  She again requests that everyone stand at attention while the General materializes in the smoke-filled room.

GENERAL PATTON:  “Be seated.  Now, you boys all know… that we’ve set up this “no-fly” zone as the opening in this great kinetic military action in Libya.  Not exactly my idea of winning a war, strike that, winning a kinetic military action, but the commander-in-chief has set the policy and, well, I’m just a simple old soldier who follows orders.”

     “Even as you sit here, prepared to enter battle against the Hun, strike that, against the forces of the evil, civilian-slaughtering Quaddafi… know that back home it’s safe for your loved ones to go about their daily lives.  It’s safe for our leaders to fill out their basketball brackets and organize a nice lobster state dinner for  people like Bashar al-Assad, Syria’s “reform” leader who is not, I repeat, is not, blowing away his dissidents like Kadaffi is.  And you are the ones who are making this possible.”

     “Now, don’t get me wrong.  As far as the Middle East is concerned, well, let’s just say that if it was up to me I’d start this kinetic military action with another “Torch” landing on the coast of Morocco and drive east to Iran before I stopped.  But, as I’ve said, it is not up to me… and we’ve only got 60 days, with maybe a 30-day extension, to wrap up this “action.”  Of course, if I was Gaddaffi, I guess I’d just lay low for 3 months, since U.S. policy is just to protect civilians, not regime change.  I wouldn’t fly any aircraft or conduct any offensive kinetic action, and just wait until July 1^st and kill all the dissidents then.  Maybe enjoy a lobster dinner or two, if there's any left on the world market, in the mean time.”

Harrumph File #061 03.27.2011 Kadaffi; Quaddafi; Gadaffi; Any way you spell it, it’s pronounced “Jabroni.”

     Muammar al-Gaddafi/Kaddafi/Quadaffi; this clown prince of the Libyan desert has been a thorn in the side of the world for over 40 years now and I want to know just one thing.  How the heck does he spell his own name?  According to the CIA World Fact Book (and Wikipedia,) 112 different possible spellings have been identified.  Maybe I’m asking the wrong question here or maybe I just haven’t provided you with an acceptable answer yet.  Yeah, you know what?  Who cares how he spells his own name.  After all, any way you spell it, it’s just pronounced “jabroni.”

     This guy has slinked around and hidden in tents or behind women’s skirts for so long that people just take him for granted now.  Yes, I know that he has been a sponsor of terrorism and has made many outlandish claims.  But when you get right down to it, he’s pretty much just a clown on the international scene.  Heck, he doesn’t even trust his own people to act as his bodyguards; he’s got to hire them out of Soldier of Fortune magazine.  In my book you can’t even call him a real leader.  I mean, can you imagine if the President had to hire mercenaries from another country to guard the White House?  To fly Air Force One?  Now that would be the pinnacle of patheticism.

     No, real countries with real leaders are guarded by citizen-soldiers, “tribe-members,” countrymen.  The White House is guarded by U.S. Marines.  English regiments guard English Kings & Queens.  Popes are guarded by… well, by Swiss guards.  But, the Swiss aren’t really using their army anyway, and they’re right next door to Italy so we’ll give them a pass.  Roman emperors were guarded by Praetorian Legions of Romans.  And yes, maybe they acquired a nasty habit of assassinating emperors and putting the throne up for auction occasionally, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that… oh well, maybe that’s not a real good example but I was on a roll.  And besides, you can’t find anywhere in history about anyone using Libyans to guard anything.

     So, back to the muppet who used to be Kaddaffi (seriously, have you seen him on TV lately?  Really, he looks like a muppet.)  You would think he’d learn his lesson.  He blows up a nightclub; he gets bombed.  He draws a “Line of Death” across the Gulf of Sidra; he gets bombed.  He invades Chad; he gets bombed.  I mean really, who looses a war against Chad?  Apparently, we have found a winner.  Seriously, take a look at Libya anyway.  You know, without oil, what exactly would Libya be?  You guessed it, without oil, Libya would be Chad.  Their number one export?  Camel dung.  And how about this-when Lucas was filming “Star Wars,” he took the production to Tunisia, right next door to Libya.  And everyone knows the sand dunes are way better in Libya than in Tunisia.  The reason Lucas went to Tunisia instead?  He didn’t want to work with a jabroni like Quaddafi.  And besides, Gadaffi executed all the Libyan Jawas years ago anyway.

French “Top Guns.”  I know, it’s kinda funny.

            So now, here he is on TV shaking his fist at the world again.  Threatening to wipe out anyone who revolts against him.  “It will be a long war against the West,” he says.  A “line of death.”  “Piles of American corpses on the beaches,” blah, blah.  Well, we’ve got you now, Mr. Jabroni.  That’s right, we’ve got a secret weapon.  Something you never expected.  Throw a “fatwa” on us, eh?  Well, we throw a “fatwa” right back on your misshapen, pumpkin-like head; you sad, sad clown.  Yes, a “fatwa” in the form of the French army.  No, it’s not a contradiction in terms.  They mean it this time you sorry little muppet of a man.  French fighter jets are coming for you!  French bombs are falling on your tanks!  French missiles are blasting your anti-aircraft radars to dust!  And you know the saddest part of it all?  It’s working.  French military assets really work!  They’re not really made of cardboard like we all thought they were!  And, like his war against Chad, that clownish jabroni from Tripoli is loosing to the French!  I mean, really, you’ve got to be a total jabroni to get your ass kicked by France.  Harrumph…

Poll #31 We have a “no-fly” zone over Libya. What, exactly, does that mean?

     Madam Geneva, our resident gypsy here at the Harrumph bunker, has channeled the ghost of General George S. Patton to help us understand the “Libyan problem.”  She requests that everyone stand at attention while the General materializes in the smoke-filled room (he’s a bit of a prima donna when it comes to protocol.)

     GENERAL PATTON:  “Be seated.  Now, I want you to remember that no ba$*#rd ever won a war (or a “kinetic military action,”) by setting up a “no-fly” zone.  He won it by blasting the other poor, dumb ba$*#rd back to the stone age.  Men, all this stuff you’ve heard about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the kinetic military action, is a lot of horse dung.  Americans traditionally love to fight.  All real Americans love the sting of battle.  Just because our President is better at organizing a lobster-filled state dinner, than he is at organizing a ground offensive, doesn’t mean our Army cannot take out Qaddafi and his thugs.  Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser.  Americans, unlike the French, play to win all the time.  I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war.  Because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.”

     “We have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world.  You know, by God I actually pity those poor ba$*#rds we’re going up against.  By God, I do.  We’re not just going to shoot the ba$*#rds, we’re going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks.  We’re going to murder those lousy Khadaffi ba$*#rds by the bushel.”

     “Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it.  It’s a natural reaction after growing up in our namby-pamby, everyone wins, PC culture.  I can assure you that you will all do your duty.  Gaddaffi is the enemy.  Wade into him.  Spill his blood.  Shoot him in the belly.  When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do.”

     “Now there’s another thing I want you to remember. I don’t want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position.  We’re not holding anything.  Let Qadhafi do that.  We are advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy.  We're going to hold onto Kaddaffi by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass.  We're going to kick the hell out of him all the time and we're gonna go through him like crap through a goose.”

     “There’s one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home.  And you may thank God for it.  Thirty years from now when you’re sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what did you do in the great Libyan kinetic military action, you won’t have to say, “Well, I shoveled sh*t in Louisiana.”

     “Alright now, you sons-of-bi#*hes, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle – anytime, anywhere, dead or alive.”

            “That’s all.”

Poll #30 Radiation cloud poll ends.

     Once again, the following is a transcript recorded at a special meeting of the “Superhero Corps.”  They continue their special session meeting discussing the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear crisis in Japan.  Attending this special session were:  Superman, Batman & Robin, Captain America, Aquaman, Supergirl & Batgirl, Spiderman, Ironman, Wonder Woman, The Hulk, and Shaggy & Scooby-Doo.  Loud rock music continues to play in the background as Supergirl & Batgirl test out the new “Superheroin poles” installed in the bar section of the Superhero Corps Hall.

SUPERMAN:  “Alright everybody, we’ve gone over the Japanese crisis and determined that Speed Racer should take the lead on relief & recovery.  Let’s move on to the question of which superpower Americans would like to get from radiation exposure.  Batman, please give us the results of this week’s poll.”

BATMAN:  “Well, the results are on the web for anyone to see.  And besides, you already passed out a sheet of paper to everyone at the meeting showing the results.  I really don’t see what the significance of reading it aloud are.”

SUPERMAN:  “Look Batman, I didn’t want to go here but, as the leader of the Superhero Corps I am ordering you to read the poll results.”

THE HULK:  “Leader?  I don’t remember any kind of election.  And besides, I sure wouldn’t vote for some prissy clown in tights anyway.”

IRONMAN: “Here, here.”

AQUAMAN:  “This is B.S.  I’m going next door and see how Batgirl & Supergirl like the new superpoles we put in for them.  Anyone want a beer?”

IRONMAN:  “Yeah, I’ll take one.  Hey, get some ‘singles’ in change and I’ll meet you in there after I hit the can.”

ROBIN:  “You guys are gross.”

THE HULK:  “Are you out from under the table, ‘Boy Wonder’?  I was wondering why Batman had a smile on his face.  I’m outta here.  Hey Aquaman, order me a couple of beers too.”

SUPERMAN:  “Enough bickering.  Let’s go around the table & see if anyone’s got any new ideas.  Hey, has anyone seen Wonder Woman?”

SPIDERMAN:  “Yeah, she’s next door getting a lap dance from Batgirl.  Hey Aquaman, order me a beer too, I’m done with this crap.”

SUPERMAN:  “*sigh* Captain America, you’ve been quiet during this whole discussion.  Do you have anything to add on this superpower question or the Japanese crisis?”

CAPTAIN AMERICA:  “I’m just looking for someone’s ass to kick.  It’s what I do.  ChiComs?  Russkies?  Just point me in the right direction.”

     The room slowly empties of everyone but Superman, who holds his head in his hands as the sounds of loud rock music, cheering and ripping spandex emanates from the bar…

Harrumph File #060 03.20.2011_Godzilla Awakened?

     You’ve seen the coverage on the news.  A huge 9.0 earthquake followed by a 30 foot tsunami.  Whole villages wiped out.  Nuclear power plants on the verge of melting down and a radiation cloud heading toward the United States the likes of which we haven’t seen since 1954’s “Them!”  Yes, the earthquake in Japan is a terrible tragedy and we sincerely hope that the Japanese people are able to rebuild and prepare…  Prepare, you say?  Prepare for what? Haven’t they suffered enough?  What could I be possible talking about you ask?  Yes, prepare.  Prepare for what’s coming next.  No, I’m not talking about aftershocks.  I’m not talking about more tsunamis.  I’m not even talking about the now probably inevitable melt down of a nuclear reactor.  I’m referring to a calamity that when it strikes Japan it will make these earlier disasters seem like a walk in the park.  You see, scientists… good scientists… have determined that the earthquake that hit Japan on Friday, March 11^th, 2011 was powerful enough to awaken Godzilla*.

Now that's one raging, pissed off monster!

     Godzilla; a name to inspire fear.  Godzilla; a name to inspire panic.  Godzilla; a name to inspire a rock song.  We know what he is capable of.  We have seen him time and time again pick up a bus and throw it back down as he wades through the buildings toward the center of town.  He could totally destroy Japan as we know it.  Thirty stories high, breathing radioactive fire.  An insatiable appetite for well-constructed skyscrapers and high-tension wires.  In fact, some people, most notably newspaper reporter Raymond Burr, believe that Godzilla is already on the rampage in Japan.  He points to the fact that Japan is the most prepared country in the world for earthquakes and tsunamis.  If this is the case, he asks, why have we seen footage of destruction on a biblical scale coming out of Japan?  Their seismic retrofits and tsunami walls should have protected them.  Only Godzilla, he says, can create such destruction.  We have also seen the Japanese army deployed during this crisis.  Now, I’m not talking about run of the mill infantry units.  We expect to see them conducting rescue and recovery operations.  No, I’m talking about Japanese army units with “special” capabilities.  We know tanks, artillery, even aircraft missiles are ineffective against Godzilla, King of Monsters.  Only special units with lasers or weird sound wave generating devices are effective against him.  And, yes, these are the units you see being deployed to strategic places throughout Japan.

     In addition, sightings of Mothra and Rodan are on the rise.  We all know that when Godzilla appears from the depths of the Pacific, Mothra and Rodan usually appear to give battle.  I suggest we prepare ourselves for what may be coming.  It’s one thing if Sendai or even Tokyo is stomped out of existence, but what if it reaches our shores?  What if rampaging monsters destroy Seattle or Los Angeles or San Francisco?  Ok, so maybe we wouldn’t miss ‘Frisco so much, but L.A.?  If Los Angeles is stomped on by Godzilla there might be too much debris covering the freeways and now we’re talking about it affecting my next trip to Disneyland!  This must be avoided at all costs!  We must contain the crisis to the Japanese home islands, kind of like our strategic bombing campaign of 1944-45 (What? Too soon?)  Deploy the Navy!  Deploy the Air Force!  Deploy the Marines!  President Obama, I beg of you, do something (well, something besides playing golf, a vaca to Rio, and all those lobster dinners you & “Weezie” have been sucking down in the White House.)

     And what about the radiation cloud heading our way?  What can be done about that?  Well, most of us don’t have the option of hopping on Air Force One and running away to Rio until it’s safe to come back.  We’ve got to put up with it.  We’re the ones that have to pump our bodies full of iodine in order to survive the radiation storm without growing another head.  Although, it does raise another possibility.  What if, just like in the movies, you get some cool superpower from all the radiation you absorb?  Imagine that!  Flying around the world like Superman.  Or maybe crawling on walls and shooting webs like Spiderman.  Super strength!  X-ray vision!  Faster than a speeding bullet!  Aqualungs!  Fire breathing!  Telekinesis!  Of course, while everyone else is flying around and picking up cars and webbing criminals & stuff, I’ll probably end up with some lame superpower like being able to tell you what day of the week any date falls on.  The battle of Hastings took place on a Tuesday.  Harrumph…

* Not supported by scientific fact.

Poll #30 If the radiation cloud from Japan strikes America and you could gain a superpower, which one would you want?

     The following is a portion of a transcript recorded at a special meeting of the “Superhero Corps,” a loose-knit organization of superheroes which usually gathers for symposiums yearly (usually at Las Vegas and sometimes attended by celebrities such as Charlie Sheen and Mel Gibson.)  They have met for a special session to discuss the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear crisis in Japan.  Attending this special session were:  Superman, Batman & Robin, Captain America, Aquaman, Supergirl & Batgirl (who rolled up to the hotel in the same car… hmmm), Spiderman, Ironman, Wonder Woman, The Hulk, and Shaggy & Scooby-Doo.

SUPERMAN:  “This special meeting of the Superhero Corps is called to order.  Batman, would you recite the Superhero Corps Promise?”

BATMAN:  “*sigh*  Can’t we dispense with the Superhero Promise?  I think we have more pressing business.”

SUPERMAN:  “No, we begin each meeting with the Promise to reinforce our values and our ‘promise’ to the people of the Earth.  And, it’s the ‘Superhero Corps Promise,’ not just the ‘Superhero Promise.’”

BATMAN:  (under his breath) “Jeeze… alright.”  (aloud) “We, the members of the Superhero Corps promise to do our duty to the world, to bring justice and order, and always to do what is right, not easy.”

SUPERMAN:  “Ummm, did I detect a note of sarcasm in your voice, Batman?”

ROBIN:  “Point of order: underbreath voicings are not admittable evidence in a court of law!”

SUPERMAN:  “Thank you, ‘Boy Wonder’ but as you will note, this is not a court of law.”

THE HULK: (under his breath) “Good thing it’s not, too.  Otherwise, Robin’s ‘benefactor’ there would find himself on the wrong side of ‘To Catch A Predator’s’ cameras.”  *sniker*

IRONMAN:  *giggle*  “Good one, Hulk.”

SUPERMAN:  “Ok, enough of this.  New business?”

BATGIRL:  “Well, I wanna know for one thing, why’s this club called the ‘SuperHEROES Corps?’  I think it should be called the ‘Superperson’s Corps.’

SUPERGIRL:  “Yeah, I wanna know too.”

SUPERMAN:  “Girls, girls… We’ve been over this before.  Look, both of you aren’t even known by a unique superhero name.  Heck, you’re just ‘pimping’ Batman’s & my titles by adding ‘girl’ instead of ‘man’ at the end.”

AQUAMAN:  “You really want to show us some of your superpowers, go next door into the club’s bar and check out the ‘superheroine poles’ we’ve got set up for you on the stage.”

SUPERGIRL & BATGIRL (simultaneously): *squeal!*

            At this point, the discussion turns into a back-and-forth over what constitutes a “real” superpower, whether superheroes who use technology instead of an innate power should even be included, what else besides Wonder Woman’s airplane is invisible, and loud rock music coming from the bar.

            Congratulations to TF of Pleasanton, California, last week’s winner of a limited edition, special prize button and our first multiple-button winner!  She chose a ‘Cute Pez’ blue button!

Poll #29 "Scariest pirate ever" poll ends.

     Yaaaarrr… I see ye have taken yer vote on the scariest pirate ever there was, and I be here again to tell the tale of the results.  Once again, my name is of no consequence, just another poor wretch, scratchin’ to find two coins to rub t’gether.

     I see ye have only givin’ Blackbeard one vote, and right ye would be, for he be no scarier than a kitten in a bag.  And, Cap’n Jack Sparrow?  Well, methinks the only vote he’s got was probably the one he cast himself… a freak he be fer sure.  Somali ‘skinnies” got them two votes and ay, they be pretty scary… especially if yer foreign policy is run by a “community organizer.”  What do we do ‘bout ‘em? Organize a protest?  Finally, we comes to the winner of this here poll.  Barak Hussein Obama, the greatest pirate of all time.  Not only has he bankrupted yer empire, but he lives in yer wallet, taxin’ every last gold piece ye might have.

     And, lookin’ at his poll numbers ye may have finally realized the truth of rule 11 of the pirate’s code as set forth: “That Crew that elects for Captain a Community Organizer or a Socialist shall suffer the consequences of their poor decision.  And That which elects one who be both shall suffer for double.”  Yaaaarrr… it might be time for them which are smart rats to be abandonin’ the ship ‘o state which be run by a Cap’n ready to be voted out by a wiser crew.  (*muffled voice from off-page*… “Mr. Vice President, it’s time to leave…”)  Yaaaarrr… pay no attention to the voice ye may hear… spirits they be… (*muffled voice from off-page*… “Mr. Vice President, really, we must leave now if we’re to make your next appointment…”)  Yaaaarrr… I be tellin’ the tale… *sound of teleprompter falling over and breaking*  (*muffled voice from off-page*… “Mr. Vice President, are you ok?)  Yaaarrr… I be an unnamed wretch… do not listen to the voices, they be… *sound of someone tripping, “Gerald Ford-style” and falling hard to the stage* (*muffled voice from off-page*… “Control, this is team one… ‘Teddy Bear’ has tripped and hit his head again… we’re on the move.”)

Harrumph File #059 03.13.2011_What The Hell Ever Happened To Pirates?

     Blackbeard, Calico Jack, Anne Bonny, Henry Morgan.  What do they all have in common?  Well, yes they were all pirates, but what I’m driving at is that they were all pirates with style.  They weren’t just another boatload of “skinnies” all hopped up on khat; they had a code.  As we’ve seen recently we still have pirates.  And, we do have many stylish things now-a-days, but modern pirates are not among them.  Which brings me to the central question of this harrumph:  what the hell ever happened to pirates?

Yaaarrrr!!!!!  Give up yer booty!!!

     Back in the day, piracy was a brotherhood and every man, from the captain down to the lowliest sailor pulled their weight and took the same chances.  Captains were elected and if they didn’t measure up they could be replaced.  They displayed the jolly roger (personalized by the captains) as a signal to ships to heave to & surrender.  Only when a fight was put up by the captured ship was the red “death” flag hoisted and the crew massacred, otherwise they had the choice to join the pirates or be cast adrift.  Sure, maybe it wasn’t the greatest thing to be put in a longboat and set adrift but the point is that they had a chance to make it to a port.

     Today, some tribal leader sends out a bunch of drugged up teenagers in a zodiac to waylay ships.  You know, you can’t even call them real sailors.  You tell me where on a zodiac do you find the poop deck?  I’m also sure not a single skinny manning the .50 cal or totin’ the RPG could tie a sheepshank.  And democracy among the crews?  Sorry boys, the “Cap’n” is staying onshore, beyond the usual reach of law enforcement where he can safely transfer his money between secret accounts, sip a grey goose, and enjoy the company of a lass or two he had imported from Europe.  That boatload of skinnies he’s sending out with AK’s and RPG’s is expendable as far as he’s concerned.  Oh, and no cool flags on those zodiacs either.

     Speaking of law enforcement, why are we treating modern pirates like a bunch of wanna be Bernie Madoffs?  Why are FBI agents cuffing these clowns and flying them back to a court in New York?  Ummm, do we still have a Navy?  You know, they call some of their ships “destroyers” for a reason… because they’re good at destroying other ships.  And against a zodiac?  Dang, they don’t even need to drop a 5 inch/54 round on those little things; just JFK over them at flank speed and them skinnies are going for a swim… until they get pulled under the keel into the props.  Problem solved.  And, as far as pirates being brought into New York; the only ones I want to see going there are ones the destroyers have hanging from the yardarms when they pull into port.  After hanging for a couple of weeks at sea & rounding the cape from East Africa, they’ll be pretty ripe.  Probably pretty well picked over by the seagulls too.  Put that on Youtube, FOX News, & BBC and I think the prospective pool of volunteers will dry up.  And, if it doesn’t, well we’ve got plenty of yardarms in the Navy.

     All we really need is the political will to do the right thing.  I know, I know; trying to get this White House to do the right thing in foreign affairs is like trying to get Bill Clinton to keep his fly zipped.  Damn near impossible.  But, we really knew that from the Gitmo… I’m sorry, the git-go, anyway, didn’t we?

     Why our Special Forces haven’t been dropping into East African pirate strongholds and “persuading” the leaders to cease & desist their illegal pirate activities is beyond me.  There should be dozens of these clowns sporting new ear-to-ear grins given to them by our guys, courtesy of “K-Bar” & “Cold Steel,” free of charge.  And if that is a little too messy for some of you then I suggest using a nice, new, clean, B61 set around 10 kilotons; free delivery by next-day air… no returns.  Harrumph…

Poll #29 Who’s the scariest pirate ever?

     Port Royal, summer, 1667

     Yaaaarrr…  My name be unimportant.  Suffice to say I be an unnamed wretch serving aboard the most accursed vessel ever to sail the Spanish Main.  Ay, I be a member of the brethren, and things I have seen.  Things that would make the strongest man quake and the weakest man insane with the madness.  But, mark well me words, mates.  For death awaits for them what don’t hear and obey.  Death of the most pitiless and vile kind.  For you what don’t want to suffer the same horrid fate which has befall’n me, let yer ears hear the truth of me tale.  For, as the brethren know, you are the final master of your future.

     Listen and follow the timeless rules of the brethren as set forth:

1.  Every man shall obey civil Command; the Captain shall have one full share and a half in all Prizes; the Master, Carpenter, Boatswain and Gunner shall have one Share and quarter.

2. If any man shall offer to run away, or keep any Secret from the Company, he shall be marroon'd with one Bottle of Powder, one Bottle of Water, one small Arm and shot.

3.  If any Man shall steal any Thing in the Company, or game, to the Value of a Piece of Eight, he shall be marroon'd or shot.

4.  If at any Time we should meet another Marrooner (that is Pyrate) that Man that shall sign his Articles without the Consent of our Company, shall suffer such Punishment as the Captain and Company shall think fit.

5.  That Man that shall strike another whilst these Articles are in force, shall receive Mose's Law (that is 40 stripes lacking one) on the bare Back.

6.  That Man that shall snap his Arms, or smoke Tobacco in the Hold, without a cap to his Pipe, or carry a Candle lighted without a Lantern, shall suffer the same Punishment as in the former Article.

7.  That Man that shall not keep his Arms clean, fit for an Engagement, or neglect his Business, shall be cut off from his Share, and suffer such other Punishment as the Captain and the Company shall think fit.

8.  If any Man shall lose a Joint in time of an Engagement he shall have 400 pieces of Eight; if a limb 800.

9. If at any time you meet with a prudent Woman, that Man that offers to meddle with her, without her Consent, shall suffer present Death.

10.  That Man that shall involve himself in a land war in Asia shall suffer such Punishment as the Cong see fit.

11.  That Crew that elects for Captain a Community Organizer or a Socialist shall suffer the consequences of their poor decision.  And That which elects one who be both shall suffer for double.

     Join this unnamed, but very insightful, wretched pirate in voting on this week’s poll!  Congratulations to TF of Pleasanton, California, last week’s winner of a limited edition, special prize button!

Poll #28 by Mr. Pool, the Harrumph librarian ends.

     As you remember, Mr. Pool, the Harrumph librarian was engaged in a rather “racy” chat room conversation with YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238, someone he thought was the ghost of Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, the architect of Japan’s smashing victories in the first six months of WWII.  Of course, Yamamoto was shot down by long range P-38’s of the 347^th Fighter group on April 18^th, 1943. And now, it appears, Mr. Pool has suffered a similar fate.

     After his risqué conversation with YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238, Mr. Pool arranged for a face-to-face meeting where, unknown to him, Chris Hansen of Dateline NBC and the volunteers of Perverted-Justice were waiting for him.  After his obligatory smarmy talk, Chris Hansen told Mr. Pool he was “free to leave.”  Of course, once Mr. Pool was on the front lawn of the bait house he was pig-piled by local cops and taken away.  Needless to say, Mr. Pool will not be returning to the Harrumph library and we are, even now, looking for a replacement.  Personally, I’m voting for the chick with the huge rack, wearing those 1980’s style big glasses that we interviewed yesterday.

     As far as the poll results for “What’s the best thing to come out of Japan,” it looks like the “Samurai tradition of honor” only garnered 2 votes, “Cheap, reliable goods” only one, and “Fish heads” none at all.  The big winner was, of course, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with 4 votes!  I think we know there are several reasons the TMNT won, among these:

They're the world's most fearsome fighting team (We're really hip!)
They're heroes in a half-shell and they're green (Hey - get a grip!)
When the evil Shredder attacks
These Turtle boys don't cut him no slack!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Splinter taught them to be ninja teens (He's a radical rat!)
Leonardo leads, Donatello does machines (That's a fact, Jack!)
Raphael is cool but crude (Gimme a break!)
Michaelangelo is a party dude (Party!)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Heroes in a half shell
Turtle power!

Go Ninja, Go Ninja. GO; Go Ninja, Go ninja, GO!
GO GO GO GO

Harrumph File #058 03.06.2011_“Rice Rocket” Motorcycles Were Built By The Japanese With The Express Purpose Of Killing Americans, Thus Getting Even For Losing WWII

     We’ve all seen these deathtraps on two wheels flying down the freeway at ludicrous speeds, painted in the latest “Sailor Moon” colors.  Usually, a few miles farther along, you’ll see them again, or at least parts of them… after their idiot rider has erased himself along a 400 yard stretch of red asphalt.  Why anyone needs a motorcycle that can go 180 miles per hour is beyond me.  Do you really think that the faux leather ass-less chaps you’re wearing are going to protect your dumb bare ass when you turn too quickly while avoiding the inevitable pothole you come across at 130mph?  And then there’s the traffic jam you cause while the authorities scrape what’s left of you into a bucket.  And the waiting I’ll have to endure while they draw the chalk line around your body outline… man they’ll need a lot of chalk to go around that 400 yard stretch of smeared blood, brains & skin.  And what about the nightmares my kids will have after seeing your arms, legs, and entrails scattered all over the road?  How inconsiderate.

     So, we know that there are idiots in this country that jump on these things and trust their fate to the prowess of a bored Japanese assembly line worker, but where, exactly, did they come from, and why?  My theory is simple: “Rice Rockets” were built by the Japanese with the express purpose of killing Americans, thus getting even for losing WWII.

     Think about it, people.  Losing face is a big thing in Asian societies.  You’ve built a “warrior” society run by samurai, with a code of honor and everything.  What’s a bigger loss of face than getting your butt kicked by a bunch of gum-chewing Yankee kids that ten weeks before putting on a uniform were down at the malt shoppe or driving dad’s tractor down the road to help the Smith’s raise a barn?  I mean, you’ve spent your whole life training as a ninja or sharpening your samurai sword so the edge was just so.  Meanwhile, “Radar” O’Reilly has been busy popping zits or trying to get his hand on Mary Jane’s boob on Saturday night.  He hasn’t been worrying about politics or whether anyone has been living up to the Washington Naval Conference limits on Battleships.  Heck, most people didn’t even know where Pearl Harbor was before December 7^th, 1941.  But, once you start it, them boys from the farms and pool halls will surely finish it for you.

Tora! Tora! Tora! Samurai mice on the move!

     So, for years they have been waiting… plotting… looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.  You see, ninja are patient.  Ninja are stealthy.  Ninja always get their man.  Ok, maybe that last one refers to Canadian ninja, but it doesn’t detract from the fact that their plan is down right diabolical: let the U.S. occupy the home islands.  Let the U.S. rebuild the infrastructure.  Let the U.S. protect the Japanese people from the Ruskkies and the ChiComs by outlawing a military force in the new constitution.  I’m sure this is the reason Amelia Earhart was shot down by Japanese planes over the South Pacific in 1937.  She must’ve found out their evil plan sometime during her daring, but doomed flight around the world.  And for that she paid the ultimate price.  And, so did her navigator, whose name will only be known to the wind and the Japanese devils that brought them down (and those with access to Wikepedia.)

     So, how can you fight the evil, ninja-like Japanese plan to get even for losing WWII and get revenge for the dastardly murder of American heroine Amelia Earhart and her just-as-worthy, but not-as-famous almost unknown navigator?  Easy.  Take these “rice rockets” off the road.  Let’s say you’re stuck in a traffic jam & one of these smarmy clowns is riding between the lanes, laughing at all you “four-wheels” that are stuck going 5 miles per hour, then zero miles per hour, then 5 miles per hour… infinity.  Change lanes suddenly, and, whoops… sorry ‘bout that!  Maybe tell the guys in the biker bar you’re having a drink at that the guy who just rolled up on that brand new, sleek Japanese bike told you that “Anyone who rides a Harley is just afraid of riding a ‘real’ set of wheels.”  Problem solved.

     So, you see, you can have an impact on the course of events.  You can make a difference.  All you have to do is remember that you have the ingenuity… the American ingenuity to fight back.  Remember the things that I have pointed out.  Remember Pearl Harbor!  Remember the Alamo!  And most of all, remember Amelia and her almost unknown navigator, and their ultimate sacrifice on the altar of freedom.  Harrumph…

Poll #28 by Mr. Pool, the Harrumph librarian.

     Good afternoon.  I am Mr. Pool, the librarian here at the undisclosed HARRUMPH bunker site, well-equipped with end-of-the-world supplies, including the world-famous "great wall of ammunition," miniature grenade range, and ping-pong table.  We strive for accuracy in all we do at HARRUMPH, and this week’s topic is no exception.  While researching Japan for our current poll, I came across a rather interesting chat room focusing on history.  In it, I began a conversation with YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238, who I believe is the ghost of Admiral Yamamoto, the architect of the Pearl Harbor raid and the Japanese offensive that nearly won them the Pacific.  Obviously, I could not let this opportunity to learn history first-hand, directly from the source.  The following is part of our official transcript.

POOLBABY69:  “Admiral Yamamoto, it is a pleasure to chat with you today.”

YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238:  “It is a most pleasure for me to speak once again with my American friends.  Please to ask question.”

POOLBABY69:  “Very well.  Why exactly did Japan strike at America?  Surely you must have known our industrial might would defeat you in the end?”

YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238:  “Very complicated, that question.  It was the Army that wished war with the United States.  Us in the Navy knew we had very limited time to take advantage of circumstances.  I see your name is ‘poolbaby,’ you like to swim, yes?”

POOLBABY69:  “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.  I’m not sure what that has to do with history though.  Now, many Admirals in all the world’s navies believed in the Battleship as the decisive weapon of naval warfare.  You, on the other hand were an advocate of naval aviation.  Why did you believe so strongly in aircraft?”

YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238:  “Yes, aircraft capabilities were increasing during the 1930’s, so it was natural to follow this course of action.  Speaking of natural, do you like to swim ‘naturally’ or do you wear the swimming suit?”

POOLBABY69:  “Sir, I certainly do not swim nude, if that is what you are asking.  And, I, once again fail to see what that has to do with history, naval or not!”

YAMAMOTO_GUY_1238:  “I see.  You like to wearing the speedo swimming suit, yes?  Perhaps you might to be wearing one even now?”

-----------Connection Terminated-----------

Join Mr. Pool & Admiral Yamamoto in voting on this week’s poll!  Congratulations to J.P. of Tracy, California, last week’s winner of a limited edition, special prize button!

Poll #27 by “G” Section ends: M. Night Sillyman & his crappy films.

     Once again, we turn to “G” Section’s cloned film critics, dead Gene Siskel & disease-racked Roger Ebert for another edition of “At The Crappy Movies.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “Welcome back to our show everyone.  Tonight we’ll be discussing the recent Academy Awards and why they suck my dead, cloned ass.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “Gene, it’s really rather simple.  The Academy Awards suck nowadays because they’re nominating the wrong people.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “I agree, today’s actors are nothing like the actors of Holywood’s heyday.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “I mean look at one of the recent awards for Best Supporting Actor:  Heath Ledger wins it.  And why?  Because he’s dead!  There should be a new rule for the Academy Awards… if a dead guy is nominated they shouldn’t nominate anyone else for that category.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “Yeah, can you imagine winning against a dead guy?  In today’s PC environment you’d be professionally shunned for intolerance.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “Speaking of intolerance, our winner for ‘Best Actor’ has got to be Mel Gibson for his portrayal of a sane man...”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “...instead of the gibbering maniac he appears to be.  And, for ‘Best Actress’ we’ve got to give the award to Janeane Garofalo for her depiction of an FBI agent in “24.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “That one really takes the cake.  It’s as surreal as if Hitler tried passing himself off as a Girl Scout, uniform and all.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “Finally, our award for ‘Best Actor Supporting A Drug Habit’ goes to, who else?  Charlie Sheen.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “This guy is so far over the top that he’d make his dad wish it was him that changed his last name to Estevez.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “He says he’s living the life of a ‘rock star.’  Yeah, a ‘cocaine rock’ star.  Roger, he says he loves hanging out with hot porn stars.”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “I think we have to look at the big picture here, Gene.  A  really hot chick like Denise Richards dumps him and he says he’s a stud with ‘tiger’ blood for hanging out with porn stars.  Umm, news flash Charlie, as soon as you run out of money, you’ll run out of porn stars.”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “Yeah, pretty pathetic.  Well, let’s conclude tonight’s show with two bony, death-like, thumbs down for the Academy Awards and all the clone-like boring actors that we’ve got to put up with these days.  Damn, I’m glad I’m dead.  Join us again next time when dead Siskel,”

     Cloned, disease-racked Ebert:  “and, disease-racked Ebert,”

     Cloned, dead Siskel:  “are at the crappy movies.”