Now on my custom module to the left, two little quizzes for your edification and amusement.

The European invaders brought three great scourges with them: alcohol, smallpox, and Christianity.  I think Christianity was the worst.  Alcohol destroyed our minds, and smallpox destroyed our bodies.  Christianity destroyed our souls.  (Most people know very little about the atrocities inflicted by the invaders; the Massacre at Horseshoe Bend springs to mind.  This is because history books are usually written by the side that won.  For a relatively unbiased accounting, read Indian Givers, by Jack Weatherford.  He may be a distant relation of mine–my 5x great grandfather was known to his followers as Red Eagle, but known to the Whites as William Weatherford. I never got around to checking.)

This rant is about comics. They should be comical.   Serious dramatic strips like On Stage, which was beautifully drawn and well-plotted, have pretty much disappeared from my ken.  Really great ones that were flat-out funny are gone, such as Bloom County and Far Side.  What we have left includes such gems as For Better or Worse, the tales of the daily life of a lame Canadian dentist and his family; Funky Winkerbean and Crankshaft (both by the same perp), which treats us to such side-splitting topics as teen pregnancy, alcoholism, amputee issues, and Alzheimer’s disease; Peanuts reruns, which may have been funny 30 years ago, but dogs trying to act like people is a real stale motif; B. C., especially egregious when the writer shoves Xian theology down our throats; and Beetle Bailey, which uses physical abuse as one of it’s recurring themes.

Strips that do pass muster with yours truly include Hagar the Horrible; Pickles (Luv those old farts); Dilbert; Mutts; Zits; and Lola.  Stinkers I forgot to mention include Sally Forth and Baby Blues, both of which are family-based and make me glad I had a vasectomy before I had any kids.

I read in the paper that 60% of all Americans are overweight.  I believe it; heck, at 5’7″, 155 pounds, I’m one of them.  At my stand every day, I see rich soft fat Americans by the score waddling by, double scoop ice cream cone in each hand, licking and dripping all over the landscape.  The adults are bad enough, but the kids!  My goodness, the  preteens with great droopy bellies and double chins are becoming increasingly apparent.  About the only visitors who aren’t fat are the climbers, who tend toward the other extreme–gaunt, almost skeletal.

Isn’t it amazing that here we are, the richest and most powerful nation on the planet, with the most advanced medical care available to the relatively few rich folks who can afford it, and the biggest health problems we have are all self-inflicted.  We eat too much, drink too much alcohol (especially in Alaska, which is one reason we have the highest death rate from accidental gunshot wounds  in the country), don’t drink enough water even though the passion for bottled water is wreaking havoc on aquifers all over the place), and we don’t get enough sleep.

In a sense, those who report news like this are committing treason, in that this news must be giving huge aid and comfort to the enemy.  I can hear them saying –”Who needs anthrax or another bombing?  The Americans are so scared they are giving up their freedom, and they are killing themselves anyway.”

My first official rant got lost in cyberspace somehow.  Rather than try to remember all I had written, I’m gonna rant about how much I LOVE computers in general and Bill Gates in particular. (Heavy sarcasm.)  Sure computers are handy (when they work)– I work outdoors so it’s nice to be able to check the weather (try enough differrent services and one of them will pretty much get it right.)  But all the horror stories–the kid who killed his mother when she tried to curtail hus websurfing, the identity theft, and the assault on privacy and so on–nakes me seriously question whether they are worth it.  And Gates?  He is a robber baron in the grand tradition of John D and old Joe Kennedy.  Oh well, there is a box of knives waiting for me at the PO, so thus endeth today’s rant.  Oh, and thanks  to those who made the kind comments, I’ll reply  in detail later,

A few words of explanation–Greyfox’s Last Stand is also the name of my street peddling business in beautiful downtown Talkeetna, Alaska.  Greyfox is my  “real” name but not the one on my BC.  I belong to the Muscogee Nation (formerly known as the Florida Tribe of Eastern Creeks).  I intend to address issues such as the dismal state of the penal system in Amerika (sorry ,had a little 60s flashback there), the evils of racism, sexism, and organized religion, and a whole lot of other gleefully politically incorrect shit.  Also, I am humble and proud to be SuSu‘s beloved old fart.