So I was shopping with my mom a few weeks ago at Wal-Mart--the bastion of all that is evil to the left--when we passed a rack of those Hannah Montana dolls. And my mom says, "Y'know, her dad Billy Ray Cyrus had better keep a close eye on her career, otherwise she's going to wind up like that Britney Spears girl."

I didn't think too much about that at the time. After all, Disney
girls--Hilary Duff, Raven, Christy Romano, that blonde doll from Suite Life and High School Musical--are all pretty clean and generally stay out of trouble. (Although Kirsten Storms, the voice of Kim Possible's Bonnie Rockwaller, was arrested on a DUI last year.) Mom's comment, though, reccurred to me following the well-publicized flap about the Vanity Fair ad Miley Cyrus posed for in late April. Cyrus, 15, appeared in what some have termed a suggestive pose: a blanket over her front and her bare back shown, looking wistfully over her shoulder. Cyrus denies this, claiming that at no time was she nude and her father and handlers authorized the shoot and were forever present to prevent anything untoward.

However, this raises a question about the nature of fame and of exploitation, especially on someone so young and impressionable. I know from experience how intoxicating overnight celebrity can be, and that if you get big fast you're going to get small again a lot faster. Cyrus would do well to keep that in mind and not try to do too much at once. Already she's slated for voice appearances in several Disney DTV projects, and the barely-legal chanteuse's popular sitcom has been greenlit for a season 3. Is she risking a crash by the time she's 17? We've seen a number of young stars burn out: Jonathan Brandis, suicide; Tracey Gold and Scarlett Pomers, battled anorexia; the Olsen twins, gone from cute sitcom babies to preteen DTV detectives to looking like a pair of bagladies on the Sunset Strip. Will Billy Ray's little girl walk the last Miley? Will Montana max out?

Okay, I've got #38 and #39 pencils and color to work on, so that's going to do it for this week. Adios.

Welcome to my 49th blog! Since we're one away from my golden post, here's a post-by-post retropective on nearly three years of disseminating the news, offering brilliant insights, and a judicious amount of shameless self-promotion:

1. 9/30/05: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2, 10/8/05: The Write Stuff

3. 10/14/05: Updates, Notes, and News

4. 10/21/05: Autumn is in the air

5. 10/28/05: Update to the Update

6. 11/4/05: Good News, Bad News

7. 11/11/05: No Real Rant Today

8. 11/19/05: Another Slow Week

9. 11/26/05: Happy Turkey Day!

10. 12/2/05: It's Up!

11. 12/23/05: Merry Christmas!

12. 12/31/05: Happy New Year!!!!!

13. 1/27/06: Update

14. 2/4/06: Anniversary

15. 2/18/06: Snow Day

16. 2/28/06: Another anniversary

17. 3/24/06: The Ides of March--Plus Nine

18. 4/1/06: April Fool's!

19. 4/28/06: Mayday! Mayday!

20. 5/13/06: Lazy Blogger

21. 5/20/06: Really Nothing to Say

22. 5/26/05: Sad News

23. 6/2/06: Happy News!

24: 6/13/06: The Day of The Beast: Aftermath

25. 7/21/06: Notes, News, and Stinky Links

26. 7/24/06: Left Behind

27. 7/28/06: A Thousand Mouths

28. 7/2/06: Be My Guest

29. 8/7/06: Be My Guest, part deux

30. 9/13/06: Go Fekul! It's your birthday!

31. 10/4/06: The Foley Artist (or, In Hypocritical Condition)

32. 10/20/06: Studded With Hypocrisy

33. 12/10/06: More Stupid Spammer Guestbook Tricks

34. 1/3/07: Happy Frigging New Year!

35. 2/6/07: How to Make Steamed Conservative

36. 3/2/07: Liberalism and Feminism: Two Bad Tastes That Taste Bad Together

37. 4/16/07: Holocaustic

38. 4/25/07: Yes, Virginia, There is a Sanity Clause

39. 5/30/07: Memorial Day

40. 7/2/07: Liberalism: A Comic-Book World

41. 8/7/07: Caught Between Barack and a Hard Place

42. 9/5/07: Eight Simple Rules for Safe, Healthy, Painless Phone Sex

(a.ka. "Eight Simple Rules for Spanking Off on the Phone With My Teenage Daughter")

43. 9/13/07: Two Days Behind and A Little to the Right of Tomorrow, Next to the Mayo

44. 11/30/07: A-State's Last Resort (or, Fear and Loathing in Lost Vagueness)

45. 12/24/07: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

46. 1 /21/08: Martinizing

47. 4/1/08:Fools in April

48. 4/22/08: Liberalism--The Road to Hell

I promise Belchblog #50 will be something pretty spiffy. Till then, adios for this week.

Today is Earth Day: a day set aside to inspire and promote awareness in the Earth and all she has to offer. It was created in 1970 by a Jewish activist named Ira Einhorn who strangled his ex-girlfriend and left her body to rot in a steamer trunk in his bedroom.

Yes, folks, this is the day the leftist dirt-worshippers set aside each year to celebrate the vision of a murdering hippie fartknocker by polluting the airwaves with inane PSAs saying if we use just one energy-smart light bulb in our home, it's like taking a million cars of the road. You've seen these things, folks--they're little, curly, and look like a got-dang piece of overcooked pasta. Let me tell you something about these bulbs, folks: they contain mercury, a poisonous metal that can get into your body through your skin or nose and kill you, slowly. If you are exposed to even a fairly small amount of mercury--say, about what's in a smart bulb--your skin turns red and falls off, your lungs rot from the inside, and you drop dead with a frigging pantload. These bulbs will save the environment but, oh yeah, fine print, they will kill you. If you touch the pieces from a broken bulb, it will kill you. If you breathe in the contents, you will die. If you drop a bulb, you have to cut the soiled piece of carpet out, keep pregnant wonen, pets, and the elderly away from the pieces, hire a professionall cleaner to dispose of the bits and the mercury spill properly, and move your whole family to f---ing Costa Rica, becauser that sh-- is tough to get rid of.

Now I grew up in a black neighborhood, folks, and my friends and our folks didn't have much money, so we'd usually entertain ourselves by doing things like picking through refuse piles looking for things to (A) blow up with firecrackers or (B) break. And nothing is better for an eleven-year-old kid than a used-up incandescent light bulb. You throw that baby on a slab of pavement, it shatters and makes a noise like a gunshot. (Of course, it was a black neighborhood, so there was often plenty of the real thing.) Now: imagine Junior picking through a scrap heap and coming across one of the curly noodle bulbs and doing what comes natural to a kid: breaking it. Now he leans over the pieces, he grins at his handiwork, breathes in a buttload of mercury, maybe even touches a few shards looking for any big enough to break again. A month later the kid's got quicksilver poisoning and is in bed sh--ting blood...all because Mom, Dad, and Charlie the neighbor want to save the planet. Yeah. Sort of a pyrric victory, isn't it, liber als?

This brings me to why I titled this piece "The Road to Hell". Liberals by and large aren't Satan incarnate. Most are simply stupid and gullible. They want to do good, and they have all the best intentions in mind. Do you know what they say about good intentions, folks? The road to hell is paved with the buggers! And what is liberalism if not about intent? They don't give a frig about resuts; all they care about is that they meant well. Take TV ratings. I'm sure Bill Clinton wasn't aiming to hurt me personally when he signed that bill which was written by a liberal, voted on by liberals, passed through House and Senate by liberals, probably placed on his desk by a liberal whip or aide or whoever the hell brings the President bills to sign. I'm sure there was no evil cabal in a dark room saying, "Ha, ha--we'll get that smart-mouth kid from Joneboro with this for sure!" It was a piece of groupthink by well-meaning, stupid liberals who thought they were helping America's children with government-sponsored alphabet soup. Doesn't make me any less fired, does it?

When 1997 Herald editor Lici Beveridge served with termination papers, the word "crime" and its various permutations appeared on it no less that 11 times. "Theft" was mentioned once or twice, and the gems "reprehensible act" and"legal action" caught my eye. Not once did I see the word "mistake". No "error in judgement" or "sloppy" was bandied about. I was treated as if, sitting in my dark ,pre-curly bulb dorm room rubbing my hands together and cackling, I actually masterminded a brilliant scheme to place a stolen column in my school newspaper so I could ruin them. I wasn't punished for any silly plagiarism. I was punished for my (percieved) intent. The editors who signed that termination contract all have cushy jobs, and none better than Scott Mitchell, the Left's God and Savior, the only man on earth to ever view the Magic Phantom Sketch, and don't you dare deny its existance or question the Great One's claim, you racist bigot sexist homophobe neocon heathen, you. His intent in serving me with those charges are seen as loving and pure and a great favor to me. Doesn't make me any less miserable, does it?

After my fling with the lovely Ashleigh Bainks tanked, and I began to turn up some disturbing data on her that suggested she wasn't what she claimed to be, I wrote stories like "Smitten With Her", and "Virago", and the book TIRESIAS, in order to warn people there is a very dangerous girl among you, a wolf in sheep's clothing working the ASU campus, propositioning young foolish men for sex. The left ran to her defense and said I was a stalker, a pig, a pervert, a rapist, a sexual predator who led the poor innocent little thing astray. Why, to the eyes of the left, she's a feminist icon. I bet if she goes back to a guy's room, knifes him, and steals his wallet, they'll want to put her in for a Nobel Peace Prize. No one ever told me, "Good work, you're helping to get the word out, you're a hero"; instead, it was sneers and threats on my life and comments like "Aw, you're just mad because she wouldn't sleep with you" from leftist small-minds. But her, why, she's a pioneer, she's fighting male oppression, she's forward-thinking and taking back. Sure, maybe she squared up and got married and dropped two-point-five calves and put that wild life of blowing fratboys behind her. Doesn't do much for my poor boner, does it?

Intent is everything to the left. If a liberal comedian makes a joke of an ethnic nature, it's funny because he's pointing out the foibles of man in an ironic and humorous manner. If a conservative comedian makes a joke of the same nature, why, it's because he has hate in his heart. I inquired at a very leftist message board about Stephen King's anti-Semitic references, and from their responses I took away this: only a conservative can hate. A liberal can hurt you, betray you, soil your reputation, deny you good jobs, hell, even kill you, but because he only has the love and benevolence that the Great and Mighty Party has instilled in his black and shrivelled heart, it's not so bad. He just wants to help you...because you're a bad person who needs to be punished and denied any joy for your own good. You're stupid and worthless. You deserve to die. And that's why you can't get even a stinking incandescent light bulb to light your dark and dirty little coldwater garret, where you eat beans and stale bread every night and lie farting in your dirty unmade bed with tattered sheets because you don't have the money for anything else because The Party won't let you have a decent job because you just aren't good enough.

Seriously. These toxic smart light bulbs are going to be mandatory come 2012. The day it happens I'm going to rent a van, gather up a few of my buddies, and drive to Mexico. We're going to buy some cheap Mexican tequila, even cheaper Mexican hookers, and every got-dang incandescent bulb from Tijuana to Yucatan. I'm going to go home, screw in those bulbs, and burn a carbon footprint so deep in the face of the earth they'll be able to see the f---er from the moon.

Amateur Writers is off my Stinky List. I guess my complaining did some good, becasue they fixed their broken links, and the site looks spiffier than ever. Read "Dog's Breakfast" here.

April 16 was a day of triumph and tragedy: we celebrated both the anniversary of the Blacksburg massacre, and the birth of Lana's kittens. Mother and babies are doing well, though their big sister Lexi is going to have to adjust to having five new brothers and sisters running about. I hope she deals better than their cousin Lance, who freaked out and ran when she was just a kitten.

Issue #37 due Friday, plus big announcement on the horizon about Smoking Cat's future. Stay tuned.

Adios for this month.

Fools are in no short supply during an election year. So far we've had Hillary caught in yet another lie, Fartknock-O-Rama and his firebrand preacher's racist rhetoric, Geraldine Ferraro feeling the Imus effect after she slipped up and basically said what we all were thinking about ol' Fartknock, and another gay politician gets caught and outed. This time it's a Democrat, though, which is a nice change of pace.

But today I wish to deal with a couple of fools who have made my Bad List. That's right, it's time for my favorite blog feature: Stinky Links!

Today's first honoree is a returning champ--or should I say, chump. They've made the SLs once before, back in Jul 2007: SimonSays.com (or perhaps I should call it "Stalin Says"). I posted the following, "Why Be a Liberal?" to the boards three times; three times it was deleted by the liberal socialist mods. My free speech and rights to get my message across in a public forum--and a leftist one at that, the belly of the beast--were quashed because some whiny marshmallow moderate pantywaist couldn't stand someone actually coming forth and questioning the Great and Mighty Party. I got yelled at for deleting a number of rambling, badly-speleld incoherent posts made to my guestbook a while back by these selfsame people (which I did not actually delete, merely transferred here so I could reply openly to my critics); yet they get to censor my brilliant and well-thought out argument? These "people" are vile and subhuman hypocrites of the worst order. Here, for your consideration, is the offending essay:

For many years I have worked to educate people about the perils of liberalism so that they may learn to recognize it and strive to reject it. I have traced its vile history back to its beginnings with Karl Marx, examined its hateful and duplicitious nature many times, and speculated on the grim and barren future it offers. But despite my work--or perhaps because of it--the one thing I have never been able to fathom is...why? Why are liberals liberal? What human need could possibly be met by such a sick, twisted, alien philosphy? It seems to spit right in the face of every normal human desire for freedom and self-betterment...yet it garners such a following.

Here is how liberalism works: like a weak acid, it eats at your self-confidence daily, bit by bit, through mockery and degredation. The Party routinely downplays all successes, triumphs and recognition by anyone who isn't one of Them as something trivial or perverse. They tell you you aren't good enough to be happy. It denies you needed resources via its ever-grinding rumor mill, its many contacts and its brobdingnagian tangles of blacklists. Oh, yes, the Party is in bed with many people in the industry. It ridicules you. It tells you what a bad and stupid person you are. It tells you should give up your dreams and maybe go seek employment in a factory or get a job stuffing burgers in bags instead. It tells you you deserve to die and your house should burn. Once you are at your lowest point and filled with acidic self-pity, the Party then mocks you for feeling bad about yourself--the very feelings it seeks to foster in you to begin with. Do you not see how both silly and incredibly insidious this is?

My God, what must it be to be a liberal? What must it be to wake up every morning and say, "All right! Who can I screw over today?" What is it to look at your fellow man on the street and see no inherent goodness, no promise, no worth, nothing but a pitiful creature who deserves to be maltreated, exploited, and made to fight for tiny pieces of happiness like dogs for your perverse amusement? How does it feel to be a miserable subhuman wretch of a creature, boiling with hatred and rage, who only lives to consume and destroy? Liberalism is horrible. It does not inspire. It does not lead. It is a deranged Bizarro world way of thought that tears people asunder and keeps them down.

So how does this broken, corrupt way of life get past the utter dregs of society's alleys and gutters and infiltrate the highest eschelons of government, academia, and the media? Part of it seems to be the utter laziness of such a way of thought: it appeals naturally to the most weak-minded, gullible, and ignorant among us. Why build yourself up when you can tear others down? Why work when you can take from others? This translates easily to the leftist mantra of "duh, ambition bad" that leads the left to look at all accomplishment as something wrong. The left loves pain and misery. Suffering is noble. The worse off you are the better you are. I've described it as a bizarre game of one-upmanship: if you've got a splinter in your finger, a liberal must have gangrene in nine of his fingers and can't afford a box of Lee Press-On Nails to make the remaining pinky look pretty.

Another part of it may be the fool's desire to be a part of something bigger than themselves and to "matter". Ask any first-year-journalism student why he's there, and they chirrup, "I want to make a difference!" Forgive them. They're young, dumb, and idealistic. Sure. So was I, once. Guess what. College bled all that foolishness out of me very quickly. I saw how the world really works. You lose everything you love in life a few times because of one stupid mistake, the wrong word said here, the wrong thing written there, boy, you wake up fast. I think only the hard core of liberalism is truly evil; most liberals are just stupid. After a few years that freshfaced idealism crap is drained from you, and you become another numb, ignorant zombie spewing the Party line, never questioning, trapped in a nightmare not of your making. Those empty-headed dupes who joined the movement because they got suckered in by the inane sophistry and cheap plastic shibboleths offered by the Party have now seen the true ugly face hiding behind the thin veneer of love, charity, and tolerance. But it's too late by then. You get in that hole deep enough, you first lose the ability to get out, then eventually the desire. The philosophy you looked to for salavation and direction in your life becomes your end and your grave.

But all this still only explains the what, not the why. Are liberals born or made? Do they choose to be liberals, or is it some unique quirk of brain chemistry that makes them ignorant, soul-eating monsters? Can they be treated or cured? Why are they what they are? I've heard some try to explain away their condition by mumbling, "Well, my parents taught me to think for myself and make my own decisions...." So you run out and put your life, wealth, and all you hold dear in the hands (claws) of the political philosophy which frees (robs) you of any need (or right) to have an independent thought? Are you stupid?

"Well, I think everyone's a little bit liberal...." No; that's like saying "a little bit pregnant" or "a little bit black". You are or you aren't. Try again.

"Well, I consider myself/think most people are a mix of left and right/liberal and conservative...." So what do you do on days you feel a little more liberal than usual? Take out that pesky soul of yours, stick it in a shoebox and slide it under the bed? No, that argument still doesn't wash. Another, please.

"There's so much hate and vitriol on the right, and all that racist rhetoric, and all they want to do is take away my individual liberties..." Oh? Tell me, is suggesting to somebody that suicide "might be the best option for you at this point" because you don't happen to agree with them not pretty vitriolic? Aren't leftist Democrats like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton and Hillary Clinton and Louisiana Mayor Ray "Chocolate City" Nagin and even your precious Golden Boy Barack Obama engaging in some pretty volatile rhetoric? They seem to be right in there promoting the same victimhood and dependance that the left has championed for some fifty or sixty years now, subtly thickening their accents when in the presence of a black crowd, and cracking lame jokes about Mahatma Ghandi running a convenience store. And what is it you think I've taken away from you, Mr. Liberal? If anything, it's you people who have taken from me. Because of some false charges filed on the job by one of you people, I've had to give up my career, seen my reputation irreperably sullied, lost valuable friends, and been forced to leave school. You want to talk about robbing people of their liberties? We on the right stand in awe of you, Mr. Liberal. In awe.

And then there's the old reliable leftist standby: get red in the face, froth at the mouth and gibber incoherent playbook insults at me: why you right-wing racist bigot sexist homophobe neocon blah blah buzzword buzzword namecall namecall yip yip yip blah.

I have yet to hear an argument that will satisfy my most pressing question: why are you a liberal? What deep, abiding need in you does the Party satisfy? If you can't look me in my eye and honestly answer that question, maybe you ought to look deep in yourself and finally consign your ugly, explotative way of thinking to the rubbish bin of history.

Perhaps I was the fool for actually thinking they'd let me say such things in a leftist forum.

Today's second Stinky comes from Amateur Writerz.org, who seems to be having some trouble with their server. When I try to access my story "Dog's Breakfast", I get this gibbering idiocy:

You have an error in your SQL syntax; check the manual that corresponds to your MySQL server version for the right syntax to use near 's Breakfast'' at line 1

I have contacted them about their error message, yet they have failed to return my e-mail. It's a huge inconvenience for me because I don't have a backup copy of "Breakfast" on hand, and I fear it may be lost for good. It's no one's blue-ribbon winner, I suppose, but it means a lot to m. When I wrote it I was still with my last girlfriend (post-Ashleigh), and she was the one who inspired me to make the dish that did in the Bumsen's dog a bad cake. I'd hate to lose it. This is a Probationary Stinky; if the problem is promptly corrected, it will be recinded, and I will happily apologize to AW for Stinking them up.

This month The Belch Dimension kicks off the start of year four with a special "interactive" 36-page issue featuring some surprises, including some familar faces returning to menace our heroes...in June, we take a very bent look at the culture of celebrity with Will B. Caustic and Professor Bobcat, and in July our hero finds himself on the wrong side of the law when he is accused of a crime he didn't commit. (No, he didn't join the school newspaper; we did that last year.) Can he clear his good name, or will he be taking it up his super-butt from some guy named Bruno in the prison shower?

Oh, and dig this! I got a note in the Smoking Cat guestbook from Niccole Naifeh, the sister-in-law of Tenn. house Speaker Jimmy Naifeh. "Finally, someone speaks out!" she says. This is in regards to an editorial I--or, rather, my fictional character "Leif Kemming" (an anagram for Mike Fleming, arch-conservative Memphis talk show host)--wrote about Naifeh for the News page. It's nice to know this Baby is making a difference.

Adios for this week.

Has anybody here seen my old friend Martin?
Can you tell me where he's gone?

He freed a lot of people, but it seems the good die young.
I just looked around and he's gone.

--Dion

As Martin Luther King, Jr. Day draws to a rainy close, I reflect upon the significance of this holiday. We set it aside to honor a man whose work in civil rights stands as a shining beacon to not just black and white, but man and woman, Protestant and Jew, straight and gay left and right. King had a dream that all men would be equal, as God intended, and not be judged by the color of his skin, but by his character.

However, like the left will everything else, the life, death and dream of this great man who was gunned down 40 years ago on a hotel balcony in Memphis has been sadly politicized and perverted. Today I heard an excerpt from a speech made on the floor of Congress that said because of King's work, we live in an America where we can have a black man, a woman, and a Baptist as serious candidates for President.

Well, I'm sorry, but I don't think this is what King or his followers--men and women of all races, faiths, social strata and political stripes who were gassed, hosed down, attacked by dogs, beaten, and even killed outright--fought for: socialism in America. Because that is all you can expect from Fartknock-O-Rama, Hillary Clinton, and John Edwards. We are talking about a man who was educated Muslim and who calls himself a Christian yet attends asect of a church whose beliefs and leader are at best suspect...a rabid feminist with sweeping ambitious plans for our health care system, both married to a former President whose mentor, William Fulbright, was a noted racist and segregationist, and good friends with an ex-Vice-President whose father was the senator who voted down the very legislation that promoted King's famous dream...and a prissy, uptight rich sneering elitist who probably has more minorities trimming his rose bushes than seated in the boardrooms of the companies he invests his millions in. If anything it's these kind of Democrats who have worked for years to squelch King's dream and keep the black man down and dependent. These are not the men and women King worked and fought and championed long and hard to uphold.

Have we made great strides in America? Yes. Look at Whoopi Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Rock, Bill Cosby, Eddie Murphy, LeVar Burton, Redd Foxx, Richard Pryor, Morgan Freeman, or Sydney Poitier. Look at Thurgood Marshall, Clarence Thomas, Colin Powell, Condaleeza Rice, and scores of other blacks in film, TV, local and state government, and the Presidential cabinet. Is thereracism still? Yes, sadly.Rev. JesseJackson tells us a black man cannot be a racist because he has no power. Really? Only powerful people can hate? Well, I have no real power, so by Jackson's own definition, I cannot be a racist. You hear that, liberals? You can stop spamming my guestbook with infantile racist bigot Nazi jokes now. The man who once called New York "Hymietown" has spoken, and no good liberal would ever dare question the Reverend Jackson. I mean, I'm not sure if he actually has a church, and I don't think he's been politically viable since GOOD TIMES was on the air, but...he has name recognition. So I guess he's powerful. So...wait.He's black, and has power, so...is he racist? I'm white, but powerless, so...I'm not racist? Somebody explain the way that works, exactly, please? As long as there are men like Jesse Jackson, Louis Farrakhan, and Al Sharpton to further and set to boil the cauldron of racism for their own selfish needs, there will alwaysbe a need to remain vigilant against the the race-baiters and the profiteers of pain.

And what is "racist"? A good liberal will immediately jump in and tell you a racist is anyone who disagrees withthe greatand mighty Party...although, that's how they define about ninety percent of the terms they use, so that doesn't tell me much. Webster's says that a racist believes that one race is innately superior over another. So why is it I only hear of white superemacists, but never black supremacists? Does it go back to Jackson's claim of black men not having power? So only powerful people hate? Well, again...Jackson, powerful. Sharpton, powerful. Clinton, Fartknock, Edwards: powerful. Do they harbor hate in their hearts? Oh, I'm sure they're perfectly lovable people, to their friends. Sure. I've known "good" liberals in my day, worked alongside them, been their friends, broken bread together a time or two. They treat you just fine, at first. But say, do, write, or think the wrong thing, and wuh-oh, suddenly the smooth, clean veneer falls off, and their true ugly face comes out roiling and hissing, dripping with pus and vitriol.

Sure, a black man as a serious Presidential candidate is a wonderful thing, but...wouldKing have wanted a hardcore liberal cut-and-run socialistlike Fartknock-O-Rama ? Wouldn't he rather haveaman like Clarence Thomas? Or a woman like Condy Rice? I mean, conservatives probably understand King's message and struggle better than anyone. If a liberal were to say half the things they do in myguestbook to a black man, he would be decried as a racist by his fellow lefties. Just ask Don Imus, or Michael Richards. But say them to a conservative, why, you're a hero, and your fellow libs share their favorite insults on leftist message boards like kids trading baseball cards on the playground. I probably face just as much prejudice, threats, and roadblocks daily by my leftistenemies as does any person of color, Jew or homosexual--if not more--for my right-wing beliefs. And all of it is perfectly Party-sanctioned. Will we have to wait until 2012 to see a conservative black man as a viable candidate for President--or even longer? When can therightbe taken seriously in the arena of ideas, not shouted down and name-called by a bunch of ignorant, brain-damaged, slobbering MPSers? Will it take another eight or twelve years before we finally see an ounce of credibility and respect?

Belch Dimension #34 comes out Jan 31, starring the Trio of Trouble paying homage to another great comic trio, The Three Stooges. Watch them turn the local beauty parlor on its coiffed head, take the vet's office to the dogs, and make a mess out of the ten-items-or-less. In March is the pirate issue originally slated for this month, followed by a special issue called "Looking Out for the Little Guy" in April--though it wouldn't be April Fools' without a prank or two at the expense of unsuspecting loved ones, so watch your butt! And in May, Hiss Hole finally comes up with the ultimate plan to crush Jon and the Warriors once and for all, in a special perplexing puzzle-filled 36-page issue--with an ending so shocking it may necessitate an oxygen tank and a change of underwear. So keep an eye onwebstands...and don't forget that Tiresias is still on sale at the webstore through our partners in publishing, Ramble House.

So adios for this MLK Day, and may your dreams be pleasant ones.