SemiConscious Dot Org

Aaron here.

Remember me? Once upon a time, this was my blog….before it was taken over by a slobbering gang of depraved religious lunatics. Unfortunately for them, however, I still know all the logins and passwords, both for the blog itself and for the server management console that controls the entire website. Therefore, I am in a position to impose Hydraulic Despotism; or as Paul Atreides says in Dune, “He who can destroy a thing, controls that thing.” Or, to put it still another way, I informed that “Pope Horatio” joker that, if he didn’t want to see his “church’s” precious mouthpiece blog destroyed, he’d best let me post occasionally.

Yeah…the “Church of the Uber Nixon.” Jesus H. Christ, what a band of whack-jobs. You know, they tried to induct me into their little cult, right after they moved into my old neighborhood back in New Hampshire. I went to the meeting at their “temple” (the basement pool room of a neighborhood bar), thinking to myself, “Oh yeah, now I’ll get me some strange. Cult chicks are easy.” Not a chance! There wasn’t a single female member. Total sausage party! And, to be honest, I think the clown who called himself “Cardinal Ugenesis Nixon Thunderfawk” preferred it that way. He kept talking about this “fiance” he supposedly had, but his constant habit of grabbing everyone’s packages and saying “Whoops, my hand slipped,” led one to question the veracity of that claim.

So, to sum up: The Church of the Uber Nixon is sort of like the Manson Family….minus the guns, knives, Manson Girls, and hairlines. Basically, a bunch of lazy, thirty-something drunks who want to take over the world. So far, all they’ve managed to take over is my blog.

Anyway, back to my favorite subject: Me. When last we spoke, back in early November, the reelection of George W. Bush had just driven a final stake through the heart of what used to be called the American Dream, humanity as a whole continued its unabated Reverse Evolution back to our apelike ancestors…and I had just gotten a new job. I currently work as the librarian in a small school that caters to the city’s homeless population. The kids who attend classes here are, not surprisingly, somewhat troubled. They have had horrible lives, and almost all have some sort of emotional or psychological problem. Today, for instance, a seven year old kid called me “motherfucker,” and another second grader spoke openly of raping a fellow student.

Have I mentioned that Moose Drool Brown Ale is a fantastic beer? I’m on my sixth one right now. Gee, can’t imagine why.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled posts about poop and monkeys and aliens.