Don't Count On Global Warming That Much

About 7 years ago, Ben Saunders of London decided that he was going to become the fastest man to walk solo to the North Pole. Now, a lot of times when something like this is "solo", it means by yourself, but also with a film crew, five spotters, twelve sherpas, two helicopters, a couple of doctors and at least three yaks. When this guy said "solo", he meant solo. Totally alone. No crew. No docs. Definitely no yaks.

Seven years is a long time to get ready for something. Seven years is also a long time to think about all of the possible obstacles that one could possibly run into when walking to the North Pole. So in those seven years, the guy figured out he was going to start in Canada somewhere and walk about 400 miles (that's outdoors) until he reached the North Pole and when he got there it would have been faster than anyone else. (Did I mention the part about the North Pole? I did? Just checking. He's going to the North Pole. Got that? OK. Continue.) He managed to work all of that out. I wonder if he ever felt like he was forgetting about something?

Sadly, I must tell you that his attempt failed and came to an sudden abrupt end when Mr. Saunders encountered conditions that were apparently unforseen and that he must not have taken into consideration when preparing for this adventure. What were the conditions that he found on his walk to the North Pole that forced him to stop? That would be all of the ice.

Yes. Surprise! There is ICE on your way to the North Pole! Shocking, I know! Imagine how this guy must have felt when the bolts that attached the bindings of his boots to his skis were sheared off by the ice and cold. Yeah, that's pretty cold. As one might expect it would be in the general vicinity of the North Pole. Well, if you're anyone but him! He clearly put way too much stock in that whole "global warming" thing I keep hearing about.

He stated that, "The ice conditions I have encountered have been the worst I have ever seen, and worse that I could have imagined." I'm sure that it was worse than he "could have imagined." But, you know, some people are now saying that, due to the advances in the Internet and in, um, books, that you really don't have to totally rely on your imagination when trying to forsee the degree of frozen-ness you might encounter if you're walking to the North Pole. No, see, apparently, you can actually do research on things like this these days and find out what sort of conditions you will be encountering. And after you find all of that stuff out, then you can plan and prepare accordingly. Yep. The modern world. It's amazing, isn't it? (Well, it is for those of us who know how to use it!)

He also commented that his, "...forced halt due to an equipment failure is incredibly disappointing, particularly as I am still in excellent physical condition." And while I'm glad that the man has his health, even an excellent physical condition will not help you 100% in this situation unless you happen to be a polar bear. What you need is for your equipment to be excellent. If you can't go anywhere without the proper equipment, then your physical abilities are really not even a factor. You could be that big ol' guy down in Mexico, whose physique would probably benefit him in this situation (given all of the layers and all), but if you can't walk because the cold and the ice broke your skis, none of that matters!

How does one spend SEVEN years getting ready for something and then, come to find out, they weren't ready for the one most basic, most obvious, most glaring obstacle of the whole ordeal?! The ice! If I'm going to the North Pole and I'm making a list of things to deal with, number one on my list is "The ICE". (Number two would be "My coldness" and number three would be "Learn how to spear fish.")

He should have brought the yaks, if you're asking me.

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Career Opportunities in California

Looking for a new job? Want something different? Something slightly illegal perhaps? Been thinking about starting a life of crime? If so, then Palo Alto, California may be the place for you to get that new start, my friend! Here's why.

The fine folks over there at the San Jose Mercury News reported that the Palo Alto police are searching for a man who robbed a bank on Thursday afternoon. And while that in and of itself might not sound so remarkable, perhaps the fact that the robber escaped might make it more remarkable? No? How about if he escaped in an electric wheelchair? Ah-HA! I thought that might do it. Oh, but it gets better.

The suspect has been described as "65 to 70 years old, with gray hair and a beard." (Santa? Is that you? What the hell happened to your legs? Why are you in that wheelchair? Where's Rudolph?) If you're on the lookout for the above described individual, you should also be aware that "Both of the man's legs were wrapped in bandages" and "He was last seen motoring toward El Camino Real at 4:25pm. (Presumedly on his way to Denny's for the Early Bird Special.)" Um, OK. WTF?!

HOW in the hell was no one able to catch this guy?! He's in a wheelchair for cryin' out loud! I don't care if it's electric or not, how fast could that thing possibly go?! It's like one of those Rascal things and they barely hit 5 mph even when going downhill! On top of that, the guy's legs were bandaged!! Couple that with the apparent need for a wheelchair and it would seem to indicate that his legs were fully inoperable at the time of the crime! He couldn't run. He couldn't even WALK! And he's elderly! Who was on patrol at the time? Stevie Wonder?!

Clearly, if they can't catch a guy without the full use of both of his legs and who is also (apparently) without the ability to STAND UP then how in the hell can they be expected to catch someone who can, oh, I don't know, WALK?? God forbid if they could RUN. The city would be quickly overrun with crime (pun probably intended.). Go there to start your life of crime, I say! You'll obviously get off on the right foot. Oh, wait! You don't need to get off on ANY feet, apparently! You don't even need to stand up! (If you can find someone to push you around in your Barcalounger to all of your potential crime scenes, you might not even have to get dressed for this new career, either!)

Here's the final bit of info that you might need if you'd like to help find this physically immobile, senior citizen bank robber: "Police were looking for a white Ford van." What in the hell for? To chase after him in??

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From The Files Of "You're A Dumb Ass"

There seems to be a little trend happening in this country lately that involves female schoolteachers having sex with their young male students. I can't really explain why it is that these teachers don't seem to think that their sexual adventure with their child sex partner will continue to go undiscovered until the boy graduates. From college.

In reality (something these teachers are clearly out of touch with), these things seem to rarely go undiscovered until the end of the week. And then the teachers get arrested. And then they have to go to court. And then they have to stay away from kids. And their job. Forever. But they don't. It must be all of that animal magnetism of the teenage boy, usually scrawny, almost always pale, often sporting a bad haircut, that just continues to draw them into the curious, lustful world of illegal sex with an underage student. (Look, there has to be some sort of an explanation. That's all I've got!)

And it is totally expected, even after being instructed by a court not to have any contact, that the student and teacher will be all over each other again (and soon). What is not totally expected is for them to be all over each other again and doing it again it an hour before the teacher is to appear in court for just that very reason. That's a little unexpected.

It seems that in West Bend, Wisconsin, teacher Jaime Foss was scheduled to appear in court on Wednesday at 1:15pm. It was that same Wednesday at noon when she was arrested after a police officer was investigating a theft which the 15-year old child lover of hers was a suspect. When the officers went to the high school to talk to the boy, he wasn't there. So the officers went to his home to see if he was there. He was. So was she. I'll let you fill in the details with what they were doing. (Hint: It wasn't homework.) Naturally, she was arrested. And that whole "needing-to-be-in-court-in-an-hour-but-having-sex-with-a-15-year-old-first" thing is probably why she wasn't let out on bail and was still in jail on Wednesday evening. Probably.

What a dumb ass. An HOUR?! I mean, come on! If you have something to do in an hour and the "something" is "go to court to answer to charges that you've been fornicating with a student" it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that you shouldn't "fornicate with said student" during that hour!

You know, I suppose that if this is what it takes to get ridiculously idiotic individuals like this woman out of teaching positions (and other positions), well, then, I guess that's what it takes. (It's not like the boy wasn't perfectly willing to oblige.) High school students have enough problems. They don't need to have ass clowns like this chick "teaching" them.

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The Milkman, The Gas Mask, And All The Sex

Well, here's one you don't hear about every day (thank God). A divorced, 47-year old milkman was found dead in his home with a Russian war surplus, biological warfare mask on his head. WTF?

The father of 3, a one Christopher Harris of somewhere in the UK, had apparently run tubes from the mask into a bottle of chloroform. His intention was to, shall we say, indulge in some self gratifying sexual behaviors of the off beat sort. As you can probably guess (considering the guy is dead), the whole kinky, sex plan went horribly awry when he inhaled too much of the chloroform and died.

Apparently, over yonder in the UK, they have something called "Coroner's Court". When someone in the UK dies, the Coroner's Court that has jurisdiction over the recently croaked must make sure that "all deaths and suspected deaths" are properly investigated. (The Coroner's Court is also supposed to investigate any "fire or explosion". I guess they probably count on finding at least a death or two in those instances, so might as well put everything in the same court. Saves time that way. Efficient those English chaps are.) If further investigation or questioning (presumedly of those who are still alive) is needed, they hold a hearing where the coroners are allowed to present evidence or witnesses to explain how said death occured. As you can imagine, a situation like this is prime Coroner Court material. No waiting! Go to the front of the line!

It was during the Coroner's Court inquiry that we learned it was Debra Keylock, a 41-year old grandmother who "shared an interest with Mr Harris in Bondage Discipline Submission Sadism Masochism (BDSM), discovered his lifeless body and raised the alarm after letting herself into his home with a spare key." OK, then. Wait. What? A 41-year old, BDSM grandmother, did it say? That's just wrong on so many levels. You know it. I know it. Even she knows it.

But let's not jump to conclusions about her relationship with the gas mask-clad deceased. Of course you know that Ms. Keylock, "who described herself as being in a domination/submissive relationship with Mr Harris, told the inquest they never had sex together." Right. Um, soooo, no rules about perjury in Coroner's Court, I can assume? There must not be. If there were, proceedings would have ground to a screeching halt right about there! What kind of a relationship, other than a sexual one, is described as being one of "domination" and "submission? That's right. NONE. And what kind of a relationship, other than a sexual one, involves two people who share, what would appear to be more than just a causal interest, in BDSM?!? Right again! NONE. Does she really think we're buying that?! We're not. She was doing him. Often. With or without a gas mask, but still doing him.

Ms. Keylock confirmed for the court that, upon entering his apartment, she found Mr. Harris lying "in bed wearing a mask which had a tube attached to a bottle and another tube attached to a breathing bag." (Clearly that "breathing bag" part didn't work so well.)

The coroner then summed the situation up like this, "Mr Harris practiced, on a consensual basis, what many consider to be deviant sexual practices. (Do you think? What tipped him off?)

"One practice is concerned or associated with breathing deprivation and involved dressing, in this case, in what I understand to be a Soviet war surplus biological warfare head guard into which he was able to introduce, via tubes, different substances – the inhalation of which provided him with some satisfaction. (I highly doubt that this particular instance provided ANY satisfaction.)

"Mr Harris was found dead in his accommodation by a friend and co-partner in these practices when she used to visit him. (That sounds an awful lot like coroner talk for "having all the deviant sex" if you ask me.)

"He had tried to experiment with chloroform in the past and I’m satisfied that he was doing so when that experiment went tragically wrong. (When is something that goes this "wrong" not "tragic"?)

"Whilst I have no doubt he deliberately set up the helmet so he could breathe chloroform, I’m satisfied when it went wrong it was neither intended or expected." (Yeah, "death" is rarely the intention or the expectation when sexually gratifying oneself with a Soviet gas mask on your face. In fact, almost never is that the case.) End of testimony.

So how did all of this turn out in the Coroner's Court? According to the fine folks over there at The Sun, "a verdict of misadventure was recorded." Although I was unaware that "misadventure" could even be a verdict, I'd have to say that, in this instance, it's totally appropriate.

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Inmates, Gloria-ous, Inmates

Well, the dancing inmates in the Philippines are at it again. Oh, surely you are familiar with the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (the CPDRC) located in (surprise) Cebu (that's in the Philippines). Allow me to provide you with a brief summary of the situation over there in case you're unfamiliar with this oddity. (Also allow me to warn you that this brief summary will likely be followed by the brief exclamation, "WTF?")

The CPDRC is a jail. Apparently, Byron Garcia, who is a security consultant for the local government over there, wanted to start some sort of an exercise program for the inmates that would allow them to exercise for an hour a day. While watching throngs of prisoners just milling about in the prison yard, he came up with the idea to choreograph dance moves set to music for about 1,500 of them. A natural thought, of course.

He eased the prisoners into his dance-o-rific world by just having them march to a drum beat. Once they seemed to have the hang of that (Left, right, left, right. How long did that take?), he added the music. In the beginning, he selected the songs "In the Navy" and "YMCA" by The Village People because he did not want the "macho prisoners to be offended at being asked to dance." Oh, OK, I see...wait a minute. What? He didn't want "macho prisoners" to be offended so he chooses two of the gayest songs in the history of gay songs performed by four of the gayest gays to sing gay songs?! THAT is how he's going to avoid offending macho offenders? Just because The Village People sang "Macho Man" does not mean that they are, in fact, macho men themselves. Because they're SO not.

Anyway, finally, he had the whole group of them to the point where they could dance to Michael Jackson's "Thriller". Garcia then uploaded a video of this hilarity to YouTube in July of 2007 and since then it has been seen by over nine million people.

The "Thriller" presentation even made Time Magazine's Top Ten Viral Video list for 2007, where it was described as "Orange-jumpsuited accused murderers, rapists and drug dealers paid homage to Michael Jackson's Thriller in a dance performance filmed at the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center in the Philippines." Time also felt the need to add, "Questions arose about whether the 1,500 Filipino jailhouse rockers were enjoying some well-choreographed creative expression or suffering abuse at the hands of prison officials with MTV aspirations. The late American actor Vincent Price was right when he said that, "No mere mortal can resist the evil of the Thriller." Catchy.

Now you're caught up. Feel better? Good. This time, the musical dance number is supposed to be a "protest dance." (I didn't even know there was such a thing.) They seem to be protesting the comments of one Jun Lozada in regard to the inmates beloved Cardinal Vidal. (I have no idea who he is. But the inmates seem to love him.) I guess this Lozada character called the Cardinal the "Archbishop of the Palace." (Since the inmates are dancing in protest, let's assume that "Archbishop of the Palace" is a bad thing in the Philippines, shall we?) As if that wasn't enough, Lozada's female companion called the Cardinal "a Congressman in a cassock." (A cassock in that long frock thing that the clergy wear. Again, assume it's bad if it's being said against the prison Cardinal in the Philippines.)

The dancing prisoners feel that the comments made were "unfair" and that they are an "unjust vilification of the archdiocese of Cebu, Cardinal Vidal". Thus, they shall dance in protest. And what is the most appropriate song for 1,500 currently incarcerated men in the Philippines to dance in protest to? Why, yes, that would be "Gloria" by Laura Branigan. WTF?!

OK, the dancing inmate thing is a bit weird to begin with. It didn't get any better with the oh-so-not-macho-tuneage of The Village People tidbit up there either. But how in the hell does "Gloria" by Laura Freaking Branigan qualify as the most appropriate song to choreograph a prison yard dance protest to?! WTF?!

If you figure it out, let me know. In the meantime, behold! The CPDRC's Protesting Inmates present "Gloria".

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Masai Guide To Miserable London

The London Marathon takes place on April 13 this year. While that might not be overly exciting to you, it is likely very exciting for six Masai warriors from a remote village in Tanzania who will be running in the race as they try to raise money for water supplies back home. (For those of you unfamiliar with the Masai warriors, they live to the north along the Great Rift Valley. Anything else, you're on your own. It took me long enough just to figure that out for you.)

And while you might be on your own, the Masai warriors are not, as some volunteers from the British charity Greenforce have compiled a four page guide to serve as a basic "Do's and Don'ts of Britain" entitled, "Visiting England - A Cultural Briefing." It is apparently intended to prepare the warriors for anything they might encounter within the culture of London, including the disgruntled English office worker.

The guide begins by stating that there will be a lot of people everywhere they go and that these people will always seem to be "rushing around". Given that they are there for a marathon, that should come as no shock to them. But the guide is apparently referring to the everyday person, one who is not running a ridiculously long distance for a ridiculously long period of time (even when not being chased by a bear.).

It continues by warning the Masai that "hunting lions will seem simple when compared with dealing with the English." (Nice. Does the Chamber of Commerce know about these guys? How about the Tourism Board?) "Even though some may look like they have a frown on their face, they are very friendly people - many of them just work in offices, jobs they don't enjoy, and so they do not smile as much as they should." Well, doesn't that just paint a lovely picture of what life is like in London?! A bunch of miserable people, rushing around to get back to being miserable at their miserable jobs that they hate. I'm sure the Masai are just clammoring to leave their village more often after gleaning that cultural nugget there.

The guide also delves into the importance of not relying on their conventional methods for telling time and keeping track of time while they are in London. "You cannot rely on the sun to tell the time accurately and will have to rely on clocks and watches. The sun will rise and set at different times." (At different times than what? I've never been to Tanzania, but I'm fairly certain the sun rises and sets at different times there, too!)

Next chapter, Manners! "Whereas at home for you it is acceptable to spit, in England it is not but, if you have to, you must do so in a sink or in some trees when no one is looking." (See, now I was expecting something about which one is the salad fork and which one is the dinner fork. Actually, I was kind of hoping for that; I always get confused.) Are the Masai big spitters? I'm assuming they must be if the Greenforce Welcome Wagon felt the need to address it, as to not get London all saliva-y. And as they are prone to do in the UK, Greenforce also chose to go below the belt by instructing the Masai "not seek out a tree or a bush when nature calls but to use the public conveniences." (OK, that one might confuse them. A tree of a bush is extremely convenient if you're a Tanzanian warrior who has to pee.)

They must be expecting some sort of crime spree during marathon or something, as they have also chosen to address the issue of how to deal with criminals. "If someone was to see a thief and chase after him and, when they catch him they hurt him, then the person who hurt the thief would go to prison as well as the thief." I find it amusing that it implies that after they catch the criminal, they hurt the criminal. So, none of the ol' Chase N' Beat whilst in London. Got it. What's next on the list? Did I hear livestock? Great!

The Masai are instructed to "not fall prey to their temptations to herd any sheep or cows" they might encounter. (Wow. London is extremely multi-faceted!) "You may see these animals in a field, seemingly left alone. It is important to remember that these animals are owned by someone and are being looked after." (I'd really like to know where they thought these guys were going to herd the sheep and/or cows to exactly.)

And while they can't herd other people's animals, they will be allowed to have their shields and sticks while running in the marathon (for the purpose of what they did not say). But they will not be allowed to brandish them when they are out sightseeing. There are limits in London.

But what about race day? Oh, that's covered, too, even though some of the participants may not be. The guide prepares the men for what could be "a shock" when they see what other runners are wearing. (OK, I'm thinking, since these guys are jungle warriors, that means things like "shoes". I don't recall ever seeing any warrior, anywhere, wearing Nikes. And if you thought that also, well, then we'd both be wrong.) "You will see many people who are wearing only small clothes and you will wonder why they are cold and may think they are being disrespectful." Now, while I am unfamiliar with what the traditional warrior-running-marathons-in-London garb is these days, I'd assume that it's not much more than the other runners are wearing. The guide makes it sounds as if these Masai people run around Tanzania hunting lions and spitting everywhere while they're wearing parkas and snow boots. But if you'll look at the picture below, you'll see that's not the case. I have a hard time believing that the London marathoners will be wearing less than the Masai warriors.

And the guide does nothing to clear this up when it continues with,"This is normal for England, especially when it is sunny or in the evening. However, it is illegal to show certain parts of the body and for this reason it is important that you wear underpants if you are wearing your blankets." (And, actually, showing certain parts of your body, whether it's sunny, in the evening or illegal, is pretty normal for England as well.) But, seriously, what are the chances that someone whose attire of choice is a blanket is going to pair that blanket with underpants? Correct. None. Not a whole lot of Masai warriors out there prancing across the plains in tightie whities.

But here comes the good stuff...the after the race celebration. "Many people drink alcohol in England. (It's because they're so miserable at their lousy jobs, remember?) They do so at bars, at homes or at clubs (Really, anywhere they can. They're always drunk.) - the English equivalent to a Masai party. When people drink they [seem] sillier or different. I am sure you have seen it with the Greenforce volunteers." So, a bunch of drunken Greenforce guys writing the "Welcome to Miserable Drunken England Guide For Visitors". And another piece of the puzzle falls into place.

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Got Milk? A Willy? 6 Kronor?

Back to Sweden in English where The Local tells us that a "drug-taking flasher" (otherwise known as an "ecclectic multi-tasker") was found guilty, not of taking drugs, not of flashing, but of stealing a carton of milk. There's really no reason given as to why the drugs and the public private exposure were not given some sort of precedence over the milk. But that's the thing about the Swedish in English. They're very vague with things that tend to require more explanation. Perhaps that's why I continue to read. I keep going back hoping that the missing pieces may have fallen into place and I will no longer be kept up at night wondering, wondering and wondering some more.

Apparently, this 23-year old drug taking flasher had a bit of a concentrated crime spree one day last summer. It started with the stealing of the milk. He stole the milk from a market called "Willys" (By the way, a "willy" is a UK term for "penis". I, for one, will not be shopping there.) located in and area called Kinna. After said dairy thievery, and presumedly having met his recommended daily allowance of calcium, he decided to exercise his newly mineral infused bones by punching a woman in the shoulder on Orbyvagen and then threatening to take her life. (No word on why or how this woman particularly aggravated him to the point of arm punching and life threatening. Also no word on what the hell Orbyvagen means or is. See? Vague.) After that it was on to Torkelsgatan (OK, at this point, I'm pretty sure that they're just making up these names.) where he felt the need to do what most criminals do after stealing milk and punching women. That's right, he exposed himself to two different people. Typical Swedish criminal day: Steal some milk. Show strangers your penis. I'm sure it was the screams of horror that brought this guy to the attention of the police. As they attempted to arrest him, he attempted to bite them. Once subdued, it was determined that the man was (this will surprise you) under the influence of amphetamines. (I know! I was expecting alcohol to be the culprit here, too! Well, I guess that's Sweden for you.) The police also stated that he admitted to "some" of the offenses. No word on which ones he chose to 'fess up to, of course.

So, after all of this, the amphetamine fueled, milk stealing flasher was found by a court to be guilty of the milk stealing. (Perhaps that was the "some" that he admitted to. It would seem like the safest bet. It's definitely better than admitting to the flashing.) The court then imposed a fine of six kronor. That should teach him. Oh, wait. Six kronor is ONE dollar? ONE?? The milk itself had to be more than a buck! How do you only fine the guy a dollar?! What do they do to you if you kill someone over there? Send you to your room?! WTF, Sweden?! WTF?!

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Flying Spaghetti Monster

From the files of WTF: A sculpture of what has been called the Flying Spaghetti Monster went on display outside a courthouse in Cumberland County, Tennessee. The Flying Spaghetti Monster sculpture was created as part of a protest. A protest against what, you ask? Against pasta? Against monsters? Against flying? Nope. None of the above. It was created to protest a legal battle in Kansas over evolution. Again, I ask, WTF?!? Ariel and David Safdie are the creators of this monstrosity. It is supposed to depict the "taste tempting god worshipped by adherents of the Pastafarian parody reglion which is practiced by the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster." Yeah, I read that sentence about six times and every time I failed to see how that has anything at all to do with evolution.

Perhaps this snippet from the installment ceremony will clear up what role this thing plays in the debate about religion, free speech, evolution and noodle dishes (although I fear that it will not):

"We are lucky enough to live in a country that allows us, its citizens, the freedom of speech. I have chosen to put up a statue of the Flying Spaghetti Monster to represent the discourse between people of all different beliefs. The many faiths, ethnicities and backgrounds of Cumberland County's residents make our community a stronger richer place.... The Flying Spaghetti Monster is a pile of noodles and meatballs, but it is meant to open up discussion and provoke thought. Being able to put up a statue is a celebration of our freedom as Americans; a freedom to be different, to express those differences, and to do it amongst neighbors -- even if it is in a noodley way."

OK, that told me absolutely nothing. Not only that, it even failed at the most basic level to address why something that doesn't fly, doesn't look like a monster, and only remotely resembles spaghetti (it seems more like fettuccine if you ask me) is called the "Flying Spaghetti Monster". And the only thing that it is going to "open up discussion and provoke thought" about is the sanity of it's creators. (By the way, "evolution" and "free speech"? Two totally different things! Please take note!) I mean, really, how many "faiths, ethnicities and backgrounds" do you think there really are in Cumberland County, Tennessee? Two? (I know that's stretching it a bit, but I am trying to be open minded here. And no, those foreign exchange students don't count.)

Oh, but wait! The Statue of Stupidity is not alone! No, unfortunately, there's more. Apparently, the stationary pasta replica is situated along side an Iraq war memorial, some chainsaw-carved monkeys, and a sculpture of Jesus carrying a cross. Huh. Some of these things are not like the others.

Hopefully, evolution will take care of this one on it's own. It does have a way of working things like out on it's own. Thank goodness.

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Toad Kill In Australia

Australians hate toads. Well, not just any toad. And probably not all Australians. But at least one Australian has an intense dislike for one poisonous cane toad. So intense is the hatred for this creature that he, Shane Knuth, an Australian lawmaker, has proposed that there be a special day for the residents of Australia to go out, hunt down and kill the little bastards. (I'm guessing that the "Australian lawmaker" is basically the same as a US Senator. Of course, the lawmakers in the US can't worry about things like poisonous cane toads because they're too busy self expanding the scope of their job to include holding hearings on steroid use in Major League Baseball, a very un-lawmaking topic. But I digress.)

Mr. Knuth believes that, "The toad is probably the greatest environmental vermin and probably the most disgusting creature known to man." Wow. "Most disgusting creature known to man." (Judging from the picture below, I can't say I totally disagree with the mate. That's a BFT (Big Fat Toad) if I've ever seen one and it does appear to be quite disgusting.) He clearly has strong feelings about this and that's probably why he has campaigned against the toads for quite some time (Last year he wanted to have a bounty of 36 cents per toad. Interesting.) and it's exactly why he has proposed that the designated day to kill all the poisonous cane toads one can find be called "Toad Day Out". (Apparently, "Whack-A-Toad" was taken. But that doesn't explain why they're not calling it "Toad Kill".) If you're thinking that the "day out" part makes it sound like some sort of an excursion or safari one might embark upon with others, you'd be thinking right along the same lines as Mr. Knuth is because he is envisioning "a special day that Queenslanders, especially children, could all play their part."

Ah, yes. The days of one's youth. Time spent outdoors with family and friends, picnicking under majestic oaks, splashing ducks in the pond, and frolicking about the meadows in search of poisonous cane toads to find and kill on this special, special day. WTF?! I can only assume there are no child labor laws in Australia that would ban children from participating in the BFT Massacre Extravaganza, but I'm kind of thinking maybe there should be. This guy worries me. (Next thing you know, he'll be issuing the kids field helmets and baseball bats just to pique their interest.)

Since proposed laws (or Amphibious Hunt and Exterminate Days) need support from others in order to be enacted, I'm sure that Mr. Knuth is extremely happy to know that he has the support of The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. (Yes, there is definitely a wee bit of irony that the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals people are in favor of The Great Toad Kill of 2008. But it gets better.) Now, he doesn't have unconditional support. No, see, they'll support him and his idea, "but only if the creatures are killed in a humane way, such as euthanizing them in a freezer." OK, wait. Wait! STOP! STOP!! WTF?!

What in the hell is going on down there in Australia anyway? Euthanizing them in a freezer? Exactly HOW is one supposed to do that?! I had envisioned a bunch of Aussies stalking these toads in the marsh with butterfly nets or something. But I'm not envisioning that now. No, now I'm envisioning a bunch of Aussies carrying around (what I would assume to be rather bulky) Frigidaires and attempting to lure the toads inside so that they can slam the door on 'em (a la Venus Flytrap) and proceed with the making of the Toad-sicles (a la Otter Pops)! Seriously! Look at how BIG these things are! He is suggesting that people catch them and put them in their freezer atop the frozen pizza and next to the Haagen Dazs?! Hell no! What are they thinking? There has to be a reason for this.

And there is. Michael Beatty, the spokesman for the Society for the Endorsement of Freezing Poisonous Toads, explained by saying, "Obviously we're not idiots. We understand a lot people will be highly reluctant to fill their fridges and freezers with dying cane toads, but at the moment that is the only humane way that we can recommend." Um, I don't know that I can agree with the first part of this statement because it's really FAR from obvious to me at this point that you're not idiots. I'm thinking that freezing a bunch of toads sounds extremely idiotic. I will go along with the school of thought that people will "be reluctant" to freeze cane toads in the comfort of their own home and freezer. ("Be reluctant" is putting it mildly, by the way. But I don't know that he would have given himself much credibility if he had said, "We know there is no way in freaking hell people are going to do this.") I also don't know that I can go along with "it's the only humane way" and that's mainly because "slowly freezing to death" sounds very inhumane! Besides, how would you know that they're dead? What if they're just frozen and they can thaw out and be just like they were before they were frozen? It works with water! What if it's the same with toads? (I realize that some scientists are starting to believe that water and toads are different, but you know what I mean.)

Of course, the Department of Primary Industries had to speak up and say that if they're going to do this," it was important that native frogs are not mistaken for toads during any hunt." (Why does "toad hunt" fall under the jurisdiction of "Primary Industries"?) And how are they proposing that happen? Hand out "Frog v. Toad" field identification guides? Make the native frogs wear little orange vests?

I guess that the beginning of this amphibious nightmare for the Aussies started in 1935 when the toads were actually imported, on purpose, from South America into Queensland, Australia, in what was apparently a failed attempt to control the beetles on the sugar cane plantations. So now they still have beetles they don't want and they also have toads that they don't want either. (I'd really like to know why that little plan didn't work. I'm thinking, if you're going to haul a bunch of toads thousands of miles, you'd better be sure that they're going to do what you want them to do. It's not like you can return them! There's not a receipt!) But, 1935? So, for 73 years they've had these toads there that they don't want and that they (seemingly) hate and they're just now getting around to doing something about it? And when they do, they think that freezing the toads is the best way to go? No wonder they've got problems.

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How Many Passes?

If the little awareness test in the video below is any indication, I need to pay more attention to things around me . And bears (whether they're chasing me or not) apparently.

Now, aside from missing that, I kind of feel like they rubbed it in by making him moonwalk. I mean, I would have gotten the point without the moonwalking! Regardless, I'll be on the lookout. So should you, I suppose.

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