Just further proof that a benevolent, merciful God does not exist

March 20, 2008

Yesterday was the five year anniversary of the start of the Iraq War, but we’re observing it today because I can’t really account for my whereabouts yesterday.  Strange.  Anyway, so we’re observing it today, but we weren’t sure how.  So Bernie the half-cyborg cat and I went to the local pub for margaritas served in an Army helmet.

“I have a question,” says Bernie.

“I have an answer,” I say. “May not be the one you’re looking for, but it’s an answer nonetheless.”

“Let’s say you’re a financial planner of sorts,” says Bernie.

“We can say that, sure,” I say.

“And let’s say that because of your advice and analysis, you lost all your clients’ money,” says Bernie. “And even worse, your wrong choices makes the firm you work for go out of business. Would you expect to get hired by another financial firm after that?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t hire me, that’s for sure,” I say.

“Now let’s say you were a doctor,” says Bernie. “And you fuck up royally. Like you’re supposed to take out someone’s appendix and instead you set them on fire. Would you be allowed to practice medicine after that?”

“I would think not,” I say.

“Okay… okay…” says Bernie. “Now let’s say you’re one of those foreign affairs or military experts that get printed in newspapers and magazines, and get invited to appear on all the news shows on TV.”

“So I’m no longer a doctor,” I say.

“Correct,” says Bernie.

“Good, because I don’t much care for curing the sick,” I say.

“And let’s say as one of these experts you quite vociferously advocate the dumbest, bloodies, and most costly military conflict of the new century,” says Bernie. “Would you expect to continue to have people listen to you after fucking up so badly?”

“I would hope not,” I say.

“Then why do these fucking idiots keep showing up in my morning newspaper?” says Bernie. “Why do I keep seeing their stupid faces on my TV?”

“Because when you’re a foreign affairs or military expert, your job is not to be right,” I say. “Your job is to get a gigantic erection over the thought of war and then rigorously stroke that massive war cock all over whatever media you can get on until gooey bloody completion. Then, and only then, will you be considered a ‘serious’ thinker on the subject of international affairs, and you’ll be paid ridiculous amounts of money for years to come just for continuing to beat off to the prospect of the thousands of dead people that will result from your putrid analytical skills.”

“You know, that really was the answer I was looking for,” says Bernie.

“Glad I could help,” I say. Then I volunteer to help Bernie make a list of pundits that should be beaten in the crotch with a bat until it breaks off for being pants-on-head retarded, for still having jobs, and for still having their continuously idiotically wrong opinions respected. Pundit. Bat. Crotch. Repeat until it breaks off. The crotch, not the bat.


Fighting soldiers from the sky… fearless men who jump and die… men who mean just what they say… the brave men of humor-blogs.com


  1. Much like tv weather reporters are rarely right beyond reporting exactly what is happening this moment yet they get paid huge sums and remain in their jobs.

  2. Indeed, except bad weather forecasts don’t leave scores of dead people in their wake. And weather forecasters tend to be less of a dick about being wrong.

  3. never admitting they fucked up, and somehow managing to spin problem of this mounting bodycount into a failure of the american people, especially those unpatriotic traitorous bastards who dare to question the policies of the war machine… it’s unreal.

    can we take a mini-bat to the pussified ‘reporters’ who lob softball questions at the talking war heads, never call out the interviewees for failing to actually ANSWER a question, and waste endless bandwidth repeating meaningless soundbites?

  4. I think Anonymous Doug just did some sort of gooey completion over me.

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