Christopher Moore’s Blog

Okay, kids, here it is. You did it once, you can do it again.

A Dirty Job is nominated in the category of best Fiction, best Audio Book, and Best Book of the Year. Be sure to vote in all three categories, and vote early and often:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13737563/

The argument goes, that because he has been a leader in the senate, because he did not personally hold the sword that killed tens of thousands, that he is not accountable. Joe Lieberman is whom I’m talking about, of course.

He got his clock cleaned tonight in the Democratic primary in Connecticut.

But let me remind Joe of another Jewish leader. A guy named Moses, who had also served for many years, and who also accomplished a lot for his people, but because he rebelled against the Lord’s commandment, was not allowed to enter the Promised Land.

Moses, it turns out, was not allowed to run as independent because the Jew thing wasn’t working out for him, and Joe Lieberman should not be allowed to change the race because the race did not favor him. That is a distinctly Republican thing to do, and Joe needs to be smote upside the head for even thinking about it.

And while I’m punishing this metaphor, it turns out that the God of Abraham got his forgiveness on after fourteen-hundred or so years, and he said, “Know what? You repent and say that I’m your one and only, and I’ll give you a pass. And to show you I’m sincere on this, I’ll kill this Jewish kid, who is my son.” (I’m paraphrasing.) So there you go. But there was the repent thing. And believe me, I’m only dragging god into this because Joe drags god into it all the time.

Repent, get redemption.

But Joe didn’t repent. Joe voted for the war. Hell, nearly everybody voted for the war. But when they found out that the reasons they were given for voting for the war were false, and that all the estimates of how the war would be fought and won turned out to be wrong, the smart and ethical people said, “You know what, that was a bad decision. I repent. I’m sorry. I don’t support this war.”

Not Joe.

Know what Joe? You don’t get to go. And as soon as I post this blog, I’m sending a note to the DNC, letting them know that if they support Lieberman from here on out, I’m done with them. No money, no support from me. I’ll write my senators and congressmen, and let them know too, that any support for Lieberman and I’m done with them. I will oppose them and campaign against them if they support this guy.

In early 2000 or maybe it was 99, when Al Gore picked Lieberman for a running mate I was thrilled. I was thrilled because Gore had the guts to pick a Jewish candidate, and I had just spent three years researching and writing Lamb, and I had learned a lot about the Jewish people, and I thought it was courageous thing for Gore to do. Now I have to admit, I had no idea how Lieberman operated. I didn’t know his voting record, and I hadn’t heard him speak, so I guess I was guilty of, what would you call it? Semitism? Yes, I was thrilled just because the guy was Jewish. Mea Culpa. I repent.

I now oppose him, not because of his religion, but because of his actions. The friend of my enemy is my enemy, to turn the phrase around. When someone as visible and powerful in the party as Lieberman was, aligns with George Bush, then sticks with him after he knows the guy has committed crimes against humanity, well, no promised land for you Joe. I seldom post anything quite this personally political, and I may take it down in a couple of days, but for now I’m calling on the eight of you who agree with me about these things, actively oppose Lieberman’s run as an independent in Connecticut. He betrayed the party once, how do you think he’s going to behave once he’s sent to Washington with Republican and Independent votes.

(And how many lame “Say it ain’t so, Joe” headlines are we going to see today? Maybe I’ll be the first one with a lame Moses metaphor, though?)

Comments: http://bbs.chrismoore.com/viewtopic.php?p=105568#105568

I finally sent in my new book, so last week I went back to the gym after like five years. This is a real gym, too, not a small town gym, where everyone is old and more out of shape than you, which I sort of liked, by the way. And not like the gym in Hawaii, which was at a golf course, where there were just too many Bush supporters being all proud of what complete sheep they were while they vocally celebrated the ass-fucking that the evil bastard was giving their country. You know, patriots.

No, this is a real gym, with a jillion aerobic machines, and many, many machines that I dont know how to use at all. (I got all tangled up in one today that was either for your deltoids, your hip rotators, or your spinal erectors but evidently I didnt use it right because when I was finished I felt like Id been molested by a Transformer. ) And you dont have to worry about peoples political views because the Night at the Roxbury club music is cranked so loud that you couldnt hear them anyway. (But I must say, its perfect mood music for being molested by a Transformer. Hmmm.)

But thats not what I’m writing about. What I’m writing about, is sporting equipment company icons. We all know the ubiquitous Nike checkmark, and the Adidas three stripes, the Etonic and Asic mass of stripes that look like someone let a kid go with a Spirograph on them. We know Puma, and Pony, and Champion, and the New Balance N. If there’s anything youre going to get in athletic apparel it logoized. I get it. I understand the Pony’s pony, Puma’s puma, they are symbols of speed, agility, athleticism. I get it.

So then this girl goes by while I’m trying to extricate myself from the reverse cross-over simulated booger-flicker machine, which requires like three weeks of David Blaine training to get out of, evidently, because I lost skin and part of an ear, but anyway, this girl goes by, and she,s got a moose on the hip of her sweatpants. (Sorry, workout pants. They would only be sweatpants if they cost less than $80.) No, I was not gawking. I simply noticed. A MOOSE?

No, it wasnt like the team logo for the Northeastern Saskatoon City College fighting Mooses either. No, I would have known that. And it would have been a big Bullwinkle mama-jama, with an antler on either cheek and GO MOOSES prominently printed just below her tramp stamp tattoo of a fairy felating a unicorn that she’s so going to love explaining to her grandchildren. No, this was like a small, logoized moose. And Im thinking, what was the thinking behind that?

As an aside, let me say, that this young woman was in the hip, thigh, bottom department, ample. The moose was not ironic as in "I’m so totally confident in my sinewy elliptically trained low-carb ass, that by putting a moose on my hip you will just laugh — ha, ha." No, this was more of a case of, "Oh my god, theres a moose on my sweatpants, but they were all out of the black and white Holstein model. It doesnt call attention to my size, does it?"

Why? Why? Why? What was the company thinking? They’ll be saying: "Look at the antlers on that chick?" And if even if you use the moose and deer hunter term "rack", the moose was on the wrong part of the outfit.

A gazelle, an impala, even an ibex would be a better athletic symbol, and thats if youre just sticking to the deer family. Hell, a wildebeest would be better, because, — well — I-d just like to see what the whole line of wildebeest athletic wear would look like. And come up with slogans. But that aside, what were they thinking?

I’m not blaming the girl. I’m sure she bought her workout stuff for the same reason I bought my, "Everyone Gets a Hug" built-in athletic supporter workout and incontinence shorts, because they were on the sale rack at Ross. No, I blame the manufacturer.

You guys, clear the inventory and get back to work on the logo design board. May I suggest wildebeest. Or bunnies. Go with that whole sick ,Japanese cute-is-sexy thing. It makes more sense than mooses, for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, that was my day at the gym. Its not that bad. I’m going back tomorrow. With my ear all taped up. (Dont get me started on the shirts with penguins on them.)

Comments: http://bbs.chrismoore.com/viewtopic.php?p=105165#105165

So, I have to tell you, I’m a little disappointed. I’ve been on Myspace for over a week now and no one has lured me to a remote location to have sex with me, nor have they lured me to a remote location to rob me, nor has anyone stolen my identity and bought a Boeing 767 and filled it with hookers and cocaine while pretending to be me, despite what is left of a very impressive four-figure credit limit on my Gold Visa. (And they don’t just give those to everyone – you often have to have a pulse.)

I don’t blame MySpace. This is not the first time technology has let me down. Not ten years ago I started playing violent video games. I like to fly my cyber-freak flag from the cockpit of a giant robot, because you have not reigned terror until you have reigned terror down from a 100 tons of rocket-armed Kyoto iron. That’s just the way I roll. But I have also Quaked and Doomed and Wolfensteined, I have Half Lifed and even Warcrafted. I have raised and destroyed Empires, shot peasants out of catapults, (and you have not trebucheted, until you’ve trebucheted a half-dozen medieval milk-maids into the side of the Cathedral at Notre Dame, let me tell you), and kicked a hooker to death in the midst of a little Grand Theft Auto. I have popped hapless noobs in the head with a silenced 9mm., and mowed down platoons of red bastards with a souped-up warthog, but despite promises to the contrary, by congress and people who focus on the family, I am yet to destroy a single city or perpetrate a single massacre in real life. I guess what I’m saying is, where is the love?

I still escort spiders out of the house in a pan kept for that purpose, rather than smashing them. I say excuse me to people on the bus when they bump into me, and when propositioned by the hookers down on Broadway, (which happens a lot, because I am smoking hot ) I always say, “no thank you”. I hardly ever say, “I don’t know–How much to kick you to death?” In fact, the closest thing to violence I have perpetrated in the last year was last week when I was on the phone with a tech support person in Bangalore, who kept reading me the same section out of the manual, despite my telling her eight times that I already tried that, so I told her that when I hung up I was going to go have a burger and I hoped it was her grandma. But Holy Spray-Cheese Jesus on a Cracker, she wouldn’t listen. Still, not really violence.

No, it turns out, according to this Stephen Green* guy and three million Iraqis, the thing that turns young people to violence, (this one will blow you away) is sending them to the desert, giving them a gun, and telling them to go kill people. I feel a little ripped off. I may have to slaughter some Orcs to assuage my bruised psyche.

Nope, I haven’t been molested on MySpace, I don’t have a brain tumor from my cell phone, I have not taken to molesting turtles from exposure to Internet porn, I haven’t joined a Satanic cult from listening to streaming Ozzy, I haven’t kicked a single hooker to death or even stolen a car from playing video games, I haven’t turned into a gelatinous torso-boy from watching TV, I haven’t gotten swept to Nigeria and fleeced of a fortune, I haven’t lost the ability to punctuate and capitalize from texting, and I haven’t had to take in a homeless Metallica band member who was impoverished by MP3 downloads.

My Internet tubes are completely congested with paranoia, and yet none of those things have come to pass. Here I sit, blogging for my eight virtual friends, all of whom are probably pirates, biding their time between stealing software and setting each other on fire and posting it on YouTube, and luring each other to remote locations to trade Shikira bootlegs, while they wait for their Nigerian passports to come through. And all I can say is:

Hey Technology? You lied to me!

Carry on.

(I’m adding here, that in the week that I’ve been on MySpace, I have had no less than fifty technical errors, including trying to post this blog. The biggest lie of technology is is that it will even do what it’s designed to do, let alone change your character. Just make the fucking thing work, okay? You can corrupt me if you have time left over. )

*the psycho soldier who led the gang rape and murder of a 14 year old Iraqi girl and her family. Great column in the Washington Post on him yesterday 8/1/06. Unfortunately, I can’t find the URL to link it.

Comments: http://bbs.chrismoore.com/viewtopic.php?p=104358#104358