Cheney Don't Shiv...

Cheney balls nasty.

Thank goodness VP Cheney doesn't have to worry about the last throes of the Iraqi insurgency while visiting Afghanistan. I mean, Afghanistan's all cleared up now, right?

(Thank you, Frank Miller, for providing obscure reference after obscure reference.)

Coulrophobia Implies Fear

According to Reuters, two circus clowns were shot and killed in Bogataby an unidentified gunman. The local plice chief was sure to point out, however, that "the killings had nothing to do with the show the victims were performing at the time of the incident."

As if it would have been perfectly fine to have shot them during a particularly bad performance.

Back to the Freaky Deaky Posts

My dad's younger brother had a grand mal seizure while at work last week. My uncle works for the telephone company in northern Virginia, so when I say "at work," I mean while driving a company truck through the Shenandoah Mountains. His truck went off the road, but it was so late that he didn't hit anyone. There was another truck following him that radioed for medical attention. He got pretty banged up, but not too seriously. Far more serious were the multiple grand mal seizures he suffered at the hospital. He hadn't eaten all day, so was it low blood sugar combined with a family history of diabetes? He hadn't had a drink in more than 24 hours, so was it an Irish-American's withdrawal? No answers yet on that front, so here's the freaky deaky part:

While he was seizing, Jeff said at one point that everything went white and glittery. He felt a rushing sensation (movement?) and saw his mother (my grandmother) and Maxine (the lady next door who was, for all intents and purposes, a second mother). They were saying something that he couldn't quite understand. More rushing sensation, and he was back on the table, coming out of the seizure.

Bullshit? He'd seen one too many "In Search Of..." episodes? If anyone else had told me that story, I'd say exactly that, but this is Uncle Jeff. Of all my family, he has always been acutely attuned to the metaphysical, though I doubt he'd ever call it that. I share many of his beliefs on the spirit world, though it has been so long since I've felt or seen anything that I'm starting to have my doubts.

That's not true; I got jacked with while I was sleeping in the officers' quarters at Fort Richardson. It's an old Indian Wars post in Jacksboro, Texas; it is rumored to be haunted. I was asleep on my bed, on top of the covers with my feet hanging off the end. I heard my roomie come in drunk and collapse on his bed on the other side of the room. I was just about to drift back off when I felt someone tickle my feet. I jumped up, pissed as all get out at being rudely awakened twice, snapped on a flashlight and shone it into the face of the other guy across the room, under the covers, drunkenly fast asleep.

Anyway, cliche as my uncle's story sounds, I believe him. If nothing else, it does give one pause.