Thank you, Aksania Vinegraiite, for signing up for The Daily Me. Our search engine has combed the Internet for up to the minute news items that fit the profile you have so painstakingly filled out for us. Then, we weighted the probability that you would be interested in these articles against forms which showed what people with tastes similar to yours have liked reading in the past. Then, according to the World Bank, 2.5 billion people are “unbanked” (have no bank account). But, on the bright side, the unbanked are “ungouged” by ridiculous fees and “uncheated” by absurdly low interest rates on savings accounts. And, they don’t have the “unpleasure” of seeing their life savings invested in dodgy derivative schemes. Maybe the unbanked know something we don’t…
Enjoy,
The Daily Me Staff
Loose Lips Sink Election Campaigns
I have been warned by Canada’s Ministry of No Fun At All that packages have to be labeled in both of the country’s official languages. “English and money?” I asked, hopeful. Obviously, not. The Ministry was well named. That probably deserves a Bag of Crazy itself, but the BOC is populated by individuals, not organizations. For now.
Welcome home, Ron Leech, Wildrose Party candidate for Alberta’s Calgary Greenway riding. I was considering choosing his clever witticism about gays (to whit: “To affirm homosexuality is to distort the image of god, to insult the nature and being of god.”), but, you know, nothing says Crazy quit so much as an ill-considered statement of racial superiority.
SOURCE: Karl’s Big Red Web Page of Unreconstructed Marxism
[http://www.bigred.commie/articles/218^.htm]
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What We’re Talking About When We Talk About Trends In Publishing
What We’re Talking About When We Talk About Beer
Jonathan Saffron Foyer
Maedchenenuniforme Press
12 pages
Apparently, beer has no metaphorical value, so, when we talk about beer, we are really talking about beer. And, sometimes, an excuse to indulge in uncharacteristically extreme behaviour, vomiting, hangovers or blackouts. But, mostly, beer.
SOURCE: Unread Book News
[http://217.204.43.25/cgi/NGoto/2/64382861?3518]
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You Don’t Have To Attend Pride To Have Pride
Toronto Mayor Rob Ford has again said he will not attend the Pride Parade because of a family tradition.
I’ve heard homophobia described in many ways, but…
SOURCE: Yellow Triangle Blues
[http://ytb.gay/April_2012/cottage.htm]
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But, It Rhymes!
Gunter Grass
Might be an ass
With a Nazi past
But he may just have a point
Anybody who can
Imagine bombing Iran
Without a World War plan
Is just a silly goint
SOURCE: Poetry, Cornered
[http://www.cibc.com/ca/personal/poetrycorner/598.html]
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I Support Our Troops By Trying To Convince People Not To Become One Of Them
“I’m a people killing person. I guess when you come from an impoverished community like mine, you’ll do anything to make a better life for yourself. When I joined the Canadian Army, I was promised that I would get to travel. And, kill people. And, I would find a fulfilling job that made good use of my unique skill set. And, use it to kill people. And, I would get to live an exciting life full of adventure. Adventure that involved killing people. I wasn’t going to find any of that in my home town!”
The Canadian Army – exploiting the weak and poor for the glory of political leaders. Sign up today!
SOURCE: Ad Meek
[http://www.admeek.com/A&W/national/article_display.jsp?nuvu_content_id=1736951804]
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THE AMERICAN DREAM OF THE FUTURE:
Owning Your Own Heating Grate On The Sidewalk
THE AMERICAN DREAM THEN: move to the United States, work hard, save your money and give your children a better life.
THE AMERICAN DREAM NOW: move to your ancestral country from the United States, work hard, save your money and give your children a better life.
SOURCE: Economics For Dummies
[http://www.politicsfordummies.com/entertainmentfordummies/economicsfordummies/home.asp?did=543&dir=bb]
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Hmm…Al-Malicky Situation, Eh, Wot?
So, Fez al-Malicky, the four year-old son of known terrorist leader Icky al-Malicky, has been killed in a drone strike on the family compound. Boo freaking hoo. There are few innocents in that part of the world, even among those who still wear diapers because they stubbornly resist being potty trained.
Fez was old enough to know that his father was a big fat doodyhead. A bad, bad, very bad doodyhead. If he didn’t renounce his father’s doodyhead ideology and demand to be put into an orphanage, he only has himself to blame for his death!
SOURCE: The National Whipping Post
[http://www.canada.com/national/nationalwhippingpost/news/story.html?ia=0ec0ecda-b6e4-4c81-bf9b-07b293cc48ec]
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He’s Obviously Read Attila the Hun’s Guide To Democracy
One of the most frequently asked questions at the Big Red Web Page of Unreconstructed Marxism is: “Karl, why hasn’t Ted Nugent appeared in the Bag of Crazy?” Oh, Ted has been in the BOC since before Dylan got his first electric kazoo. In fact, Nugent has his own thousand acre estate in the BOC, complete with lawyer-infested moat, hanging gardens (with rose-scented nooses) and field large enough to reenact the most famous tank battles of the Crimean War.
The thing is, although it appears calm on the surface, the Bag of Crazy contains a roiling, churning mass of humanity. Think of it as quantum foam without baristas. The struggle to be the one to burst out of the Bag of Crazy and share your thoughts with the world is fierce and never-ending.
Congratulations to Ted Nugent for finally making it through. Now, if you would be so kind, could you please drop back into the Bag of Crazy never to be heard from again?
SOURCE: Karl’s Big Red Web Page of Unreconstructed Marxism
[http://www.bigred.commie/articles/218^.htm]
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Before Or After It Was Cooked?
More than a thousand former NFL players are suing the league for not doing enough to protect them from concussion-related ailments. However, Philippe Rotunda, who has played for the Detroit Corporate Machines for over a decade, said he wouldn’t be joining the suit.
“It’s common people knowledge people are going to suffer people memory loss,” he explained, “and, umm…what are we…umm…were we ever…people…uhh, when I was a kid, I used to gargle with macaroni.”
SOURCE: The Schwartz Sports Report
[http://www.schwartzsportsreport.com/ssr-news.shtml#56018137485]
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Detention Diary: And, A “Good Glub Flub Gloomphies” To You, Too, Sir!
WEEK SEVENTEEN
“I’m not going to ask you again,” the interrogator told me.
“Goo…gaa…glull…” I responded. It had been an especially brutal session: I had had more electricity pumped through me than the eastern seaboard at Christmas. In my mind, though, I had a ready answer: “Good. Because I tried to tell you the truth, and you zapped me. Then, I tried to tell you what you wanted to hear, and you zapped me. Obviously, my answers are irrelevant, so it would probably be for the best for you to stop asking your damn questions!”
Over the past few days, a second man sat behind the desk with the interrogator. He leaned over and whispered something in the interrogator’s ear. They looked like teenage girls sharing confidences about cute boys at the back of an Post-American Lit class, except without the Hello Kitty backpacks and Barbie binders. After a few seconds of this huddle, the interrogator nodded to himself and turned his attention back to me.
“Alright,” he said. “Perhaps you didn’t meet Oskar Ibn Rachim. I’m going to ask you an important question, now, and I want you to be completely honest with me about it: did you meet with Oskar Ibn Rachim’s intermediary, Rachim Ibn Oskar?”
I looked at the two men, the interrogator blandly stern, the other man smiling warmly. “Igh, ugh, glub glub glub,” I responded. The other man nodded encouragement. “I, duhh, flipsk guh guh gloobily.”
“Good,” the interrogator said. “Finally, it would appear that you are willing to cooperate. Now, what can you tell me about anti-missile missiles crossing the border into Abcdefghanistan?”
“Burble flub flub?” I tried. The other man pursed his lips and gently shook his head. “Un unh unh!” I tried again. “Shhhhhhlumph glack oobby dobby nobkins!”
The interrogator frowned. “I am not in a position to offer you immunity,” he informed me. “However, if you cooperate, I will put in a good word with the prosecutor, and that should weigh in your favour at your trial.”
I sighed. “Ack,” I said. “Argh urgh blumph blah. Blaaaaaaaah. Blah blah blah. Aieee! Definitely aieee!”
“Right,” the interrogator said. “But, how did he get the camel out of the back of the Humvee?”
“Burble,” I answered. “Burble burple, ack ack, oi!”
“Yes,” the interrogator said. “That makes sense. We’ll follow up on this, of course, but, if what you’re saying is true, you may have just saved an undisclosed for reasons of national security number of American lives!
“There, now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re going to find, I think, that your life in here will be much improved now that you have stopped playing games and decided to speak plainly with us!”
SOURCE: Harpo’s
[http://harpos.org/archive/2012/04/29/dd-90000017]
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And, The Moral Of The Story Was…Ambiguous, At Best
Fifty Berkeley high school students face expulsion after it was discovered that they had hacked into their school’s computer system and changed their attendance records.
They were immediately offered positions with the Department of Defence’s Cyberterrorism Task Force.
SOURCE: Geekly News & World Report
[http://www.geeklynews.com/geeklynews/issue/120421/geeklynews/01dodonlsd.htm]
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