Angels Don't Date

Ladies and Gentlemen, I read a blurb of an article today about two of the Navy's Blue Angel pilots being grounded for having an "inappropriate" relationship. Evidently, the act of dating or being in a romantic relationship with another person makes someone unfit to fly. I recommend when you go to the airport, make sure the pilot doesn't have a wedding ring, or your plane will surely crash. We've all seen Top Gun. We know that when pilots, especially Navy pilots fall in love, they get distracted, they get reckless. As Val "Iceman" Kilmer would say, they're "everyone's problem" because they're "unsafe" and "dangerous."

When a pilot with romantic entanglements goes up in the air, he's not thinking, "Ok, I have 100 tons of metal defying gravity and a hundred people in the back counting on me to keep us from plummeting to a fiery death. So let's double check those ailerons and make sure we have enough fuel."

No, he's thinking, "I hope I didn't leave the toilet seat up. She hates that. And then she'll nag. I miss the early days of the relationship when it was all picnics and dinner out and mo- HOLY CRAP! WE'RE CRASHING!"

Besides, the military, even the decorative aspects like the Blue Angels, are all about war, not love and babies and kisses. So good riddance to those mamby pamby dangerous pilots and their "feelings" and their "healthy human relationships."

In other news, it's Halloween. My costume recommendations: Don't go as a vampire. They may think you're one of them and then make you drink blood while you listen to their lame emo poetry. Be a zombie instead. They may think you're one of them and eat someone else.

You have been informed.

I should have listened...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I should have listened to myself...

Stepping back in time to see my future self post created horrors I shall never forget. So what did I do? I went back in time afterward to post a warning to my past self telling me not to do what I was currently doing, thus inspiring me to do it to find out what I shouldn't do. I created a time loop. The strange part is, knowing the horrors that would happen, I couldn't bring myself to be more specific in the post because I lacked the mental strength to dwell on the moment long enough to describe what had/would happened to past me. And so I wrote the words I'd already read, knowing full well that I would only end up investigating and causing it all to happen anyway.

And knowing in some strange way that this horror I brought upon myself was only possible because I did it only made the nightmare worse. Man was never meant to witness his future self in the past. The strain is too much on the space time continuum having two Mr. Truths who should neither be there chronologically. Reality rippled and I could see the Lovecraftian horrors that lay beyond the veil of our feeble perceptions of what is and is not real. I shall never sleep again... such nightmares, such horrors shall haunt me.

I have no choice but to wipe this event from my memory or I shall surely go mad and end my life to save myself.

Let this be a warning to you. Never travel through time to visit yourself traveling through a different time.

You have been informed.

The Machine is finished!

Ladies and Gentlemen, using plans found on the internet, I am proud to say the Time Machine is complete! I'll let you know what I found out.

You have been and will be informed.

Eagle Talon High Fives!

Ladies and Gentlemen, let's be super quick about this. I'm really close to finishing the time machine and I want to share a truth before I go in case the future is so awesome that I never want to come back. Or in case I find out the warning was about something really lame and utterly not worth sharing.

So here is today's truth.

Eagles will give you a high five if you're cool enough. Few people, however, are. They like to keep the number of Eagle Talon High Fives given per anum low to prevent inflation, thus devaluing the eagle talon high five. Currently, you must be at least this cool to get one, and on an open social status market, a high five from an eagle will get you your choice between a ride in a space shuttle and a presidential nomination.

I've never gotten one before, but I'm hoping the time machine will score me an ETHF of my own. I sure could use a space shuttle trip.

You have been informed.

10 Unknown Facts about: David Bowie

Ladies and Gentlemen, for today's Ten Facts Tuesday, I delved into the mysterious past of David Bowie. Many of us know of him as a British pop-rocker, actor, and buddy of Iggy Pop. Here are a few things you may not know about him.

10 Unknown Facts About: David Bowie

1. David Bowie can live for three weeks with his head cut off, which has helped him survive many a fight with countless immortals seeking his power.
2. David Bowie has a fleshy pouch on his belly for carrying his young.
3. David Bowie can dig a 300 foot long tunnel in one night with his bare hands.
4. David Bowie tastes with his feet.
5. You are more likely to be killed by David Bowie than a poisonous spider.
6. David Bowie can open his mouth wide enough to fit a four foot tall child inside.
7. David Bowie can sleep for three years.
8. David Bowie's heart beats three hundred times per minute.
9. David Bowie has enough poison in him to kill about 2200 people.
10. David Bowie likes to eat the insulating strips of rubber around car windows.

Looking at what's been uncovered, it's unsurprising he called that one album "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars." His venom could almost certainly be compared to a spider's. And I wonder what the connection is between him and the number three (three years, three hundred feet, three hundred beats, three weeks). Eerie. That's a question for a later day. Until next time.

You have been informed.

Glow, Kitty, Glow!

Ladies and Gentlemen, sleep is good. But then you knew that already, so I suppose I should tell you something you didn't know.

Scientists have cloned a glow in the dark cat. Well, a glow-under-a-black-light cat.


I understand the benefits this has to medical science and everything, and that's great. My excitement is what this means for the space program. Here we have a cat that glows under UV light. Surely there are such places, such planets, moons, and asteroids that have UV light as opposed to regular light (regular? wow that comment was so earth-centric). Organisms that evolved in such places would clearly have UV within their visible light spectrum, right? This is where I believe we discover the true intention of these scientists.

UV Kitty glows. We place UV Kitty on one of these distant places. It glows. Organisms there see it. If it gets eaten pretty quickly, we know it's unsafe for unarmed colonization. If it gets left alone, we know it's safe for colonization. If it gets petted, we know my girlfriend has access to a space ship and where the heck is she hiding that thing? There isn't a cat in the universe she won't pet. But at least we'll know we can survive there.

The next shuttle launch will be on November 14th. Do you think it's a coincidence glow-under-a-black-light kitty was cloned so close to blast off? I don't. The fact that the cat is a clone proves that they intend to explore a lot of planets. Look out space. UV Kitty is coming.

You have been informed.

Sleep Drunk

Ladies and Gentlemen, they say that if you go twenty-two hours without sleep, it is the equivalent of being drunk in terms of how it affects your reflexes and coordination and thinking and the like. I'm inclined to agree. I've been running on almost nothing, sleepwise, and my spell check thinks this is a drunk post. You can't see it, because I'm fixing the mistakes, but I'm making a lot of them.

This raises some questions with me. Could Mormon boys and girls, who are religiously deterred from drugs and alcohol, have staying up parties? How would the pick the designated napper to drive people home? Would the pranks be more wicked awesome because the likelihood of someone passing out is substantially higher, or would the party pranksters focus more on quantity and not quality? And how would police check for driving tired. A breathalizer won't pick it up, because it's morning breath that smells worst and not right-about-to-go-to-sleep breath. Would they give you a pillow and if you pass out, they know you were driving under the influence of wakefulness?

These are the questions that keep me up at night. These are the questions that send me on Truth Crusades into the Truthy Lands to recapture Truthusalem. Only, hopefully my success rate will be more than one in five. And fewer children will be killed by heathens. Hopefully that part too.

I guess the nuggest of insight I've decided to share today is this: Mr. Truth needs a nap.

You have been informed.

A Quick Note About Penguins

Ladies and Gentlemen, I shall make this very quick today. I still have lots of work to do on the time machine. The sooner I finish it, the sooner I know what not to do. (What if I've already done it?). These are the concerns that keep me working on it late at night, the not knowing when I will commit this ill-fated act.

So here is your daily truth.

People often joke about penguins always wearing suits due to their black and white color scheme. I thought you may find it interesting to know that this is a deliberate evolutionary choice on penguin behalf (yes, I know evolution is unguided mutation, but "deliberate evolutionary choice" sounded less offensive than "penguin selective breeding") in an effort to one day infiltrate our society's ruling class elite to turn our fishing industry to their own corrupt and self-serving needs. I'm still researching what those needs are, but I'm sure once I find out, it'll be pretty darn nefarious.

You have been informed.

Retroactive Success

Ladies and Gentlemen, I was making a character for Dungeons and Dragons (3.5) last night and I learned that increasing your Con bonus retroactively increases your hit points. In theory, this should work with skill points as well, since if you're going to allow say, a level 15 person to bump their hit points by 15 (one additional HP per level) as well as their level up hit die, then it should apply for skills as well, since the two function pretty much the same in terms of offering an additional bonus at the time of level up. Perhaps this too would apply for spells. One could retroactively have learned substantially more spells in the past, having just become a little smarter in the present. In theory, this could retroactively turn a past failure into a past success because you would have retroactively had those hit points which would have kept you from dying, right?

The reason why I say this is because we all know that Dungeons and Dragons is the epitome of a realistic system whose complexity clearly aligns perfectly with the complexity of the laws of time and space and physics here in our world. Therefore, I've decided to put myself on a regimented system of physical and mental workout. If I can bulk up a little, I will be able to win that fight that I lost in seventh grade. Likewise, if I can make myself just a little bit smarter, history will reshape itself and give me the teaching job I applied for last year because I will have retroactively become the most qualified candidate. I can make my life better without time travel! (though I'm still going to build that time machine to figure out what terrible thing is coming)

Ladies and Gentlemen, let's all begin a mass program of self improvement. If we can get our grandparents to join in, who knows? Maybe we can prevent World War II. Think of all of the jobs we will have always had if we just work that much harder now, after the fact!

Self-Improvement: Changing your present to better your past.

You have been informed.

Something strange

Ladies and Gentlemen, I just noticed a post I don't recall making. I'm fairly certain no one has the password to my blog, but clearly someone does or else that post from yesterday wouldn't be there. I need to have a talk with future me about my vagueness in dire warnings. The only problem is how am I to know when specifically in the future I should talk with myself? If I go too soon into my future, then future me won't know what the problem is that I'm supposed to avoid. If I wait too long, said event I should avoid will happen anyway, defeating the purpose of the warning. That or future me will have completely forgotten what the problem was and then it still won't help me any.

Hmmm... why can't I be more specific?

I should build a time machine to find out what's up.

You have been informed.

Stupid Cromwell...

Ladies and Gentlemen, at my place, we are having some work done and the construction workers were doing some painting on the upstairs window frame. They left it to dry over night. The next day, the paint was smudged and there were painty fingerprints on the roof. Now I know no one here has been on the roof since the day I had to shimmy to the balcony after Oliver Cromwell tipped over my bookshelf. Now, it seems, Cromwell has a problem with paint. Perhaps its because his long time buddy and avid supporter John Milton went blind from lead poisoning. Maybe the paint had lead in it, and the long dead English tyrant is morally opposed to the stuff. Oh Oliver... you're so silly.

You have been informed.

WARNING to future-past me!

Me from your future/my past:

Don't do it! I know you and you're just going to want to learn what happened, but don't! The horror! The terrors! The nightmares! Oh the humanity! Leave it alone! Don't do it! Just stay where you are!

I have been informed.

10 Unknown Facts About Cher!

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to Ten Facts Tuesday! This week, at the urging of my fiancee and her sister, I've done a little digging into the life of Cher, famous for being almost naked at any age and belting out hits you can dance to in electrical tape and fishnet stockings. What say we get to that list, shall we?

10 Unknown Facts About Cher:

1. Cher does not believe in life after love, or anything for that matter. She bases her ideas exclusively on scientific method.
2. Cher is actually C.H.E.R., which stands for Cybernetic Humanoid Engineered for Reconnaissance. Built by the NSA to retrieve P.O.W.s in Vietnam, she turned to singing following the end of the war as a way to keep up the expensive maintenance and name brand spark plugs.
3. When slowed down to extremely slow speeds, it is revealed that Cher's vibrato is actually hyper condensed messages revealing extraterrestrial secrets. Thus, it is no coincidence the sudden surge in technological innovation since the seventies.
4. Cher can make vegan quiche, but doesn't due to her deep seated fear of the anti-omnivores.
   
5. Cher once beat Deep Blue at chess using only her pawns.
6. Cher's strength is doubled in the presence of sailor suits. The wearer need not actually be a sailor.
7. Cher can karate chop a broken board back together.
8. Cher can control goldfish with her mind.
9. Cher's imaginary friends are real.
10. Cher had a shotgun grafted into her arm to insure her preparedness when the Zombie Plague hits.

I hope you, having just read the list, feel as enlightened as I do, having just written it.

You have been informed.

More Quick Facts About Vampires

Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know by now, vampires are real. From time to time, I go under cover among them to learn what new information I can about them. Here is what I learned in my last bit of digging.

1. Given the choice, a vampire will choose a comedy act over a singing act, and will outright try to spoil a magic act.
2. Vampires mostly like to sit around listening to emo music and talking bad about each other behind closed doors.
3. Nine out of ten vampires have ridiculous names that typically include an adjective, a dark colored animal, a reference to blood, or an old, possibly no-longer-with-us city. They rarely make any attempt to pick a name that blends in with the society in which they live. If you look through the phone book and see a Gregori Constantinople, Raven Bloodmoon, or Fury Wrathemoore, chances are you've found a vampire in your city.

You have been informed.

The Truth Is Out There

Ladies and Gentlemen, today, I would like to take a moment to let you know that I alone am not the sole purveyor of obscure truths. The internet is full of such researchers.

For instance, Brad Neely has a knack for uncovering truth... and he does it with rhyme!
(Note: Not Safe for Work)


Ninjas are also excellent explorers of truth. Being unseen, they find themselves privy to all sorts of conversations and events that would otherwise be obscured from our mundane view. One ninja has allowed himself to be seen just long enough to answer your questions.


Another major Truth Merchant is The Onion, a newspaper dedicated to writing the articles that most major organizations are too afraid to touch, such as this one about WNBA Awareness Month.

Should you find any other Truth Seekers on the internet, send me a link or send them this way. I'm always keen on finding more truth.

You have been informed.

Dead Ghosts Hate My Books...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have reason to believe that my house is haunted by a ghost that is super conservative, longing to return to the good old days when we worked hard all day and all went to church. He wants to take us back to those golden days of yesteryear when we belonged to the land we farmed and lived under an impoverishing theocratic rule. This ghost, I believe, is Oliver Cromwell. He wants to take us back to the dark ages. How do I know this? Last night I dreamt (though about what, I shall never tell). I awoke suddenly to a cacophony of falling objects and thunderous thuds. At first I feared someone had perhaps fallen down the stairs while carrying something. But why would anyone else be home at that time? And from the sound of it, why would they be carrying so much stuff in one load down the steps. While searching the house for a potential thief, I found one door I could not open. Behind that door is my computer and my books. And my board games, but that's beside the point. Clearly I was dealing with a book theif, or so I thought. The room was locked except for the one door, which I discovered was blocked. With much effort, I was able to force my way into the room. The reason for the difficulty? My bookshelf had fallen directly across the door's path toward my computer desk.

I know, it's a far stretch from fallen bookshelf to medieval ghost. But not nearly as far as you may think. Let's look at the facts, shall we?

1. A book shelf fell over.
2. No one was in the room.
3. The only things damaged were a bust of John Constantine, a mini of the make-up bot from Wall-E, and two wooden horses, each of which lost a leg. And the bookshelf, obviously.
4. Other contents of the room include my computer and X-Box.

What can we interpret from these facts? First, clearly it was the work of ghosts. No one else was in the room. Further, the shelf has had a lean to it for several weeks, showing that the ghosts have actively been pushing against it for quite some time and only today succeeded in taking the shelf out.

Second, the bookshelf fell toward my computer and X-Box, which was thankfully too far away. Clearly this ghost is a ludite, a hater of technology. This suggests a foul presence from the past. The chest of board games was entirely undisturbed, which is reasonable considering the popularity of board games in the middle ages: Nine Men's Morris, Chess, and Draughts (or Checkers) to name a few.

Third, while only very few specific books were damaged, the entire bookshelf, boards cracked and splintered, is now entirely unusuable. This suggests that the ghost isn't just against certain genres. Or if he is, he hates how-to books, graphic novels, memoirs, rpgs, Germans and/or the German language, and Shakespeare; and he is not opposed to science fiction, satire, classic literature (excluding Shakespeare), histories, and pedagogy. But that seems to be a bit of a stretch. So I think the safe conclusion is that this ghost is opposed to books in general. After all, with no shelf, where am I to put these now homeless books? How does this support my theory of phantom from the past? In those days, literacy was a rare thing, typically possessed only by the ruling elite, namely the nobles, the clergy, and the occasional merchant. The majority of the population was illiterate, hence the angry protest against books. It must think me part of the oppressive upper class. This places the ghost in the middle ages, for were it to be younger, it would no I'm actually a member of the oppressive middle class bourgeoisie, which didn't exist in older days. That or perhaps said ghost recognizes my lower class origins and resents my literacy, which would make it the white oppressor. Either way, it places the ghost square in the 700-1600s, assuming it isn't a modern ghost that longs for said time period.

Fourth, other than the shelf itself, the only real damage was done to my statue of John Constantine and a figureine from the movie Wall-E. First, to the Constantine statue. No damage to the mane himself or the demons. No, the only damage was to the beer and the bar. Now, the damage was not done to the man consorting with devils, and why should it be? Men in the middle ages were amused by plays about Doctor Faustus, who sold his soul for power and tried to trick the Devil. One could argue that Constantine himself is something a modern Faustus. Naturally it would have a love for him. Likewise, the demons on the statue were unharmed, which were again very popular in the Middle Ages. They were often the favorite part of morality and mystery plays. People love to be frightened, so the demons can stay. No, the broken bit was the beer. This is a ghost for temperance who resents our twenty-first amendment. The ghost is opposed to the sordid, rough-and-tumble bar crowd found in major cities of the day, such as London, Berlin, and Paris. After all, taverns were frequented by prostitutes, actors, and theives.

Four and a half, the other broken bit was one of the robots from Wall-E. Which one, you ask? The make-up bot. That's right. Our ghost left the cleaning robot alone. He left alone the dog robot and the loving, caring robot, and he took out the one that promotes the deadly sin of vanity.

Naturally, given examination there can be only one logical conclusion. My house is haunted by a ghost, probably of Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell, a religious zealot who opposed drinking, theatre, sin, and all things immodest. And probably literacy. Given Cromwell's proclivity toward military violence, the destruction of a shelf seems a logical expression of resentment from such a ghost.

Damn you, Cromwell. You win this time, but the game is far from over.

You have been informed.

A Lost Journal Found

Ladies and Gentlemen, in my daily researches, I found this little fragment of a journal entry folded up in a really old book. I thought you might be interested.

"15th of April, in the year of our lord 1578.

I do not like this school, for indeed the subjects of study bore me so. It is no concern of mine how many chickens Farmer Horatio will have should every egg of every chicken hatch. The sciences too are a tedious bore. Yes, yes. Everything revolves around the earth and if left alone cheese will turn to rats. But why must I know this? And literature! Ha! A lark indeed, those assignments! I am sick of and shall never again read Euripides. What concern do I have what some dead Greek wrote in some play hundreds of centuries past? I should rather take Anne to a joust or to The Theatre to see a comedy and perhaps, plying her with mead, obtain my own military victory. Alas. Tis probably my lot to grow old and take over father's business... Until next I write,

Will"

(Editor's Note: I fixed the spelling.)

There you have it. Kids never change, just the specifics of what they complain about.

You have been informed.

Guess what I didn't see

Ladies and Gentlemen, at work, it seems things would break without being touched. Move without anyone messing with the stuff. Other weirdness would happen without anyone to do said weirdness. There can be only one explanation. Ninjas. It makes sense. I didn't see a ninja all day, so I know they were there. I mean, if I saw a ninja, naturally there wasn't a real ninja present or it would not have been seen. Therefore, the inverse must also be true. If I didn't see a ninja, then there must have been ninja's present.

Now if only I could figure out what ninjas were doing at the George Ohr Gala... Maybe they like funky pottery and attractive women in fancy clothes too. Ohr (you like the way I did that pun?) perhaps they just wanted some of that $100+ per plate dinner. Mmm... kobe bbq ribs with lobster.

You have been informed.

McCain Loves Terrorist Lovers

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sharing just a quick thought. Palin says Obama is a terrible person who associates with terrorists. McCain says nothing against Palin for this comment, nor does he contradict his supporters when they call Obama a terrorist who needs to be killed. This, to me, means he supports this idea of Obama being a dangerous terrorist, or at least terrorist sympathizer/supporter. However, recently, McCain has also stated that he has nothing but the utmost respect for Obama, and he considers the Chicago darling a fine young man. Does this make McCain a supporter of domestic terrorism as well?

Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems like every other position, McCain has flipflopped. Sure, he may have been the hard core terrorist killer who inspired the movie Die Hard once upon a time, but nowadays, he's just another politician cozying up to a corporate sponser, the terrorists. Not to mention his vicious attacks against Obama's lack of experience, followed promptly by choosing Palin as his running mate. Is there anything he won't change his stance on? I bet soon he'll actually start landing planes instead of crashing them too.

You have been informed.

10 Unknown Facts About Dwight D. Eisenhower

Ladies and Gentlemen, on this day in history in Denison, Texas in 1890 (1890!), the thirty fourth president of the United States was born. As such, today's Ten Facts Tuesday is about that man, Mr. Dwight Eisenhower, or as he was otherwise known for some inexplicable reason, Ike. He was commander of American forces in Europe during WWII and was put in charge of the U.S. occupied zone of German afterward. During his presidency, he supported desegregation, an interstate highway system, and Hawaii and Alaska joining the nation. But here are a few things you may not have known about this former president.

10 Unknown Facts about Dwight D. Eisenhower:

1. Dwight D. Eisenhower isn't dead; he's serving as an ambassador to extra-terrestrial cultures. You think it's a coincidence he "died" so close to the Apollo Moon Landing? Oh that footage was faked all right, but not because we didn't land on the moon. It's because no cameras were allowed into the aliens' embassy.
2. Dwight D. Eisenhower actually finished a game of Monopoly.
3. Dwight D. Eisenhower is fluent in Ostrich. This confusion lead to his promotion of Military Governor of the U.S. Occupation Zone after WWII. He said he spoke Ostrich. They thought he said Österreich, which is German for "Austria."
4. Dwight D. Eisenhower had a third arm growing from his chest, which he kept concealed.
5. Dwight D. Eisenhower never slept. He would instead close his eyes and practice astral projection to spy on his enemies and supermodels.
   
6. Dwight D. Eisenhower once wrestled a bear. Though it was unanimously decreed Ike won the fight, critics tend to agree that the bear had the better costume and signature move.
   
7. Dwight D. Eisenhower played Dracula in the first major movie of the title. Out of modesty, he gave the credit to a poor immigrant friend of his named Bela Lugosi, who spoke no English.
   
8. Dwight D. Eisenhower never touched the floor of the White House, instead choosing to ride a pony from room to room.
   
9. When in charge of the European Theatre of Operations in WWII, Dwight D. Eisenhower put on a production of Showboat so good that D-Day was delayed, even though it meant landing on the beachhead in bad weather.
   
10. Dwight D. Eisenhower went down in history for being the first person to not only hold his own breath for ten minutes, but to hold someone else's breath as well at the same time.

And people call him a "Do-Nothing President" Bah!

You have been informed.

10) Asimov Approved Wil

Ladies and Gentlemen, we're so close to the end of the list that I can taste it. Only two more to go, so let's get this penultimate truth explained, shall we?

10) Wil Wheaton is Three Laws Safe!

First, for those who don't know the Three Laws of Robotics, they are as follows:

1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

I'm not saying Wil is a robot with a positronic brain. That would be ridiculous. He's as human as you or I. Even so, he subscribes to said rules above, only replace a robot with Wil Wheaton. Thus, Wil Wheaton practices non-violence (Law One), Charity and Service (Law Two), and not being stupid (Law Three).

I can hear you readers now throwing in your refutations. "But Mr. Truth, didn't Wil beat the bajibblies out of five people at once in that AADA he set up?" Well, here's a little No-Prize for me. His becoming Three Laws Safe actually happened as a result of this. He was in shock at the ease in which he a) planned to even truly get involved in a sport where the aim was to kill others, and b) the ease with which he had single-handedly defeated all five competitors. He was a man of dangerous power. If his hands fell into the wrong hands, no hands would be safe. Some time there after, not long, but some, he was reading his favorite bbs and saw a discussion of Asimov's works. A group of devoted followers of Asimov started the "Techno-Buddhist" movement, which, while being big and complex and metaphorical and New-Agey, essentially boiled down to Asimov's Three Laws. Wil, being the big sci-fi geek that he was, adopted this new philosophy of life and behavior which would keep him, and more importantly others, safe.

You have been informed.

9) The Kwisatz Haderach

Ladies and Gentlemen, for today's post, I'm afraid I really don't have anything new and interesting to tell. I tried. I decided to explain the 9th item on the Wil Wheaton 10 facts. I was going to tell the story behind

9) Wil Wheaton is the Kwisatz Haderach

but the fact of the matter is, it's a state of being. It's a quality. There's no story to it. I don't have a story for why my hair is blond. "Oh, Mr. Truth, tell us the story of your blond hair!"

Ok. I was born with it. A random pairing of genes caused it. The end.

Same for Wil. He was just born that way. He knows how to use the suits on Arrakis without being told. No story. He just is.

You have been informed.

Terrorism of the Knees

Ladies and Gentlemen, I seem to be suffering some form of awfulness. While working hard today to put on a conference for the National Council on Economic Education, my knee inexplicably began to give me awful pains and even started to swell a little. I could recall hitting it on no large objects and/or pieces of furniture or building. Further, I remembered no twisting steps, trips, or other incidences of lost footing. I felt bewildered and befuddled over the injury's origins while simultaneously beleaguered and besieged by said inexplicable injury. With no direct incident to cite as the catalyst for my knee infirmity, I could reach only one explanation:

Terrorists.

It explained why my knee hurt with no impact or twist, no misuse or abuse. After all, I was working for the National Council for Economic Education. The Terrorists know that our economy is failing and want to stop every effort for us to turn it around. Hence, a knee injury while tending to those intent on teaching proper economics. Those crafty Terrorists.

As a man named Truth, I must confess, Ladies and Gentlemen, that I was wrong in my initial guess. My first assessment was Communists. After all, they too had a vested interest in seeing our capitalist free market economy fail. But then I realize how silly that sounded. Communists made my knee hurt? Communists! Ha! What is this, 1987? Every one knows Communists aren't a threat. That was simply me thinking back to the golden days of my youth in which in which we wrongly believed that Communists were behind every terrible thing to happen. Oh how young and naive we were. Now that we know what Communism really is, we are able to see the truth of the matter. It's always Terrorists who are behind every plot. It always has been, and it never was Communists. Just like we've always been at war with Eurasia and allied to Eastasia.

For this reason, I must keep moving, even though it hurts my knee and will probably only exacerbate the problem. Because if I stop walking on my injured knee, the Terrorists win.

(On second thought, I have been using a lot of big words, and we all know that colleges are hotbeds for Communists and Socialists... Nah, it's always Terrorists now)

Now if you don't mind...

You have been informed.

No work ethic these days...

Ladies and Gentlemen, these days I find myself increasingly saddened by the state of the youth of the world today with their iPods and their internet and their downloading and their texting. They never learn any principles. They never learn the value of hard work. They get lazy. They never learn to do their jobs right. They never learn to do anything if they think they can get some piece of technology to do it for them.

Case in point:

The Somali pirates have taken over a ship filled with arms and demand a ransom of they'll blast the boat to Davey Jones's Locker. What's wrong with these guys? Pirates? Hardly.

Do you see any sails on that boat? Nope. That's right. They never learned to sail. "Oh, I'm a modern pirate. Why would I need a sail if I can just use a motor? Then I don't have to learn any stupid knots." Newsflash: You're a pirate. It's not like people are going to line up to let you pump gas at their boat docks. And what if you need to lay low? Wouldn't it be nice to know you can go out to sea and know that you can go whereever you need without having to stop for fuel in some port where you know people are looking to capture you?

Do any of these pirates carry swords, cutlasses, scimitars, or other blades? Oh no. They've got guns. "I'm such a lazy pirate I won't even walk over to you to do you in. I certainly won't learn to use a sword, which will never run out of ammo during a proper pillage, because guns are newer than swords so they must be better." Wrong again, buddy. What if it's a big ship with a lot of crew onboard? Do you have enough rounds for that? As I said, the sword won't run out of ammo. What if you miss a shot and cause a fuel leak or make something explode? That's much less likely with a sword. Or maybe you need to work quietly. A sword is ALWAYS more silent than a gun. And suppose that, oh, I don't know, being out at sea you catch some fish to eat. Maybe a nice marlin or a tuna. Will that gun help you clean it? Nope, but a sword will. Learn to use the sword. You're not caving to tradition, you're being smart.

Blow up the ship? What? In the old days, pirates had to fence their stolen goods to make their money. Nope, I guess pirates today are just too lazy to sell goods that practically sell themselves in many parts of the world: guns. Instead they're going to blow up the ship if they don't get paid. And did you notice how they said they'd blow up the ship with them still on it? As if the law will say, "Oh no! Don't kill the pirates!" And did you notice how they backed down from their initial price? Evidently, they've been holding it ransom for weeks! No work ethic! To lazy to follow through on their own threats. Too wishy-washy to make any kind of stand. If they had paid attention during orientation and training, they could have just sailed away with the goods and made off with several million by fencing the goods themselves. But they failed to learn the required skills for the job and now they have the navy coming down on them. I bet they don't even have a plan to board and capture a navy ship...

I tell ya. Kids today just don't want to learn a trade properly.

You have been informed.

Killer Sea Cow?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I cannot verify that the following post is entirely true. It is merely cautionary speculation.

In Boston, far from the warm native waters of Florida, swims a one flippered manatee, presumably in circles. No one knows why this rogue manatee has chosen Cape Cod to dwell in, especially with the deadly cold of winter approaching. Tourists and locals find him cute and endearing. They see him as some sort of hard-luck case, a nature after school special about overcoming handicaps. True, the manatee is missing one flipper and one eye and still managed to make it safely all the way to New England during hurricane season. Perhaps it is because so much that I discover is negative, but my pessimistic nature doesn't let me trust this manatee. It navigated from Florida to Massachusetts during hurricane season in terrible physical condition. It's smart and it's determined. But why? I suspect revenge. A Boston local almost certainly took a vacation to the everglades and mangled the poor manatee with his offboard motor. A heartless water enthusiast such as that almost certainly does not remember this particular sea cow, but oh yes, this sea cow remembers him and has plotted long for this day. He knew the risks, but he had to get his vengeance. It's only a matter of time until our Bostonian villain takes a pleasure cruise in his schooner and then shall the world come full circle. I'm not saying I blame the manatee. Not at all. To borrow from Kill Bill, "That [manatee] deserves her revenge and [the boater] deserves to die." All I'm saying is, if you tend to be a little careless and heartless with your motorized water vehicles in the past, especially in the state of Florida, you might want to stay out of Boston waters for a while. There could be a manatee with no depth perception plotting your demise.

You have been informed.

8) The Adventures of Wil Wheaton Across the 8th Dimension

Ladies and Gentlemen, we're almost through with our exploration of Wil Wheaton's sordid geeky past. Four more to go. Today, we discuss a little extra-dimensional travel Wil did in his younger days.

8) Wil Wheaton once visited the eighth dimension using his own home-made oscilation overthruster.

When The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eight Dimension came out in 1984, a young Wil Wheaton found himself sitting in awe on a darkened movie house. How he longed for a jet car. How he longed for Buckaroo to invite him to join the Hong Kong Cavaliers. He even contemplated what his nickname would be and what he'd wear. More than all of that, however, he wanted to drive through a mountain.

Flash forward several years.

Stand By Me was a huge success. Star Trek: The Next Generation was a hit. Wil Wheaton had some liquid assets behind him. He discovered into GURPS, Warhammer, and Car Wars. But he still remembered the work of the Banzai Institute. Finally old enough to drive, Wil decided to make an oscillation overthruster and attach it to his first car. For weeks, months, he poured over the design in his trailer on the set. Finally, sometime later, he finished it. He hooked it up to a golf cart and began racing around the back lot, trying to find a good spot to use it. After considerable effort, a number of failures, and the chagrin of lot security, he did it. He entered the eigth dimension. And he was disappointed that the Lectroids didn't actually speak with Jamaican accents.

Historically, there are two important notes to be made:

1. Thisis the reason he always got in trouble for speeding around in and crashing golf carts. It took a few attempts to actually finally go through the wall rather than just through the wall.
2. Realizing the dream of turning one sci-fi dream into a reality directly resolved him to start his own AADA only a year later.

You have been informed.

10 Unknown Facts About:: Christopher Walken

Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you to another edition of Ten Facts Tuesday! I thought long and hard before choosing today's subject. I wanted someone we already know to be amazing. And then I remembered this video. We all know that Christopher Walken is a phenomenal dancer and that he can fly at will. I wanted to know a few things about him that we did not already know. Here is what I discovered:

10 Unknown Facts About Christopher Walken

1. Christopher Walken swallows his mates' unborn children and holds them in a sac under his chin. When they are big enough, he opens his mouth and lets them out.
2. Christopher Walken has about 100 different facial expressions, most of which are made with the ears.
3. It has recently been discovered that Christopher Walken does see in color, just not as vivid color as most humans.
4. In Texas, it's illegal to have sex with Christopher Walken. In Florida, it's illegal to get him drunk. In North Carolina, it's illegal to have sex with a drunken Christopher Walken.
5. Christopher Walken is the deadliest killer in the ocean.
6. When Christopher Walken is happy or pleased, he squeezes his eyes shut.
7. Christopher Walken sees so well in the dark because his eyes naturally reflect light that comes at him back out into the surrounding area, turning his eyes into natural flashlights.
8. Christopher Walken sleeps for about seventeen hours a day and yet only dreams for seventy minutes.
9. Christopher Walken can jup 350 times his body length.
10. Christopher Walken's orgasms can last up to thirty minutes.

And for those of you wondering, yes, I do stop researching as soon as I find the tenth fact. Should any of you at home have someone in mind that you would like to leran more about, send your suggestion to me and I'll see what I can dig up on your favorite subject.

You have been informed.

How Tokyo can save the economy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we here at The Truth of the World are dedicated not only to discovering truths and bringing them to light, but also finding ways to use this truth to improve the world we live in. By now I'm sure you're all aware of the condition of the U.S. economy right now, and I'm sure you're all just as worried as I am. However, I think I may have found a solution through shared resources with Japan, the world's second largest economy. Our countries already have a strong bond of shared markets. We buy Japanese technology and they buy our culture. But the solution to this economic downfall is not more sharing of commerce. The answer we need is to share Japan's greatest natural resource: kaiju. For those of you unfamiliar with kaiju, they are large prehistoric and extraterrestrial beasts with a tendency to attack the island powerhouse from time to time. To date there are over thirty documented kaiju, including Godzilla, Mothra, and many others. What we need is to borrow some of these monsters from Japan, luring them to the West Coast of the United States using radiation, loud noise, and perhaps a large pile of fish.

You may be wondering how these monsters could possibly save our economy when they destroy so much. Please indulge your humble informer a moment's attention.

There have been twenty-eight documented kaiju attacks on Japan, especially the greater Tokyo area since 1954, averaging a little more than once every two years. Prior to these first attacks, Japan's economy was solid, but not great, not a powerhouse. However, since these monsters have begun attacking Japan, the country has grown tremendously in economic terms. This seems counter-intuitive, but I assure you it makes perfect sense.

• With the need to rebuild a constant concern, construction workers and unskilled laborers have an nigh endless supply of work, thus producing a very low unemployment rate. Almost every citizen pays taxes and contributes to the economy.
• If infrastructure is in a state of perpetual rebuilding, the system becomes substantially easier to maintain at a cutting edge state. In our nation, we hesitate to upgrade energy production and other industries to the latest technologies because a complete overhaul is costly. However, if we have to rebuild entirely anyway, the extra expense to upgrade infrastructure becomes a negligible amount tacked on.
  
• These constant monster attacks increase funding to the military industrial complex, which, though sometimes dangerously self-serving, has a tendency to produce our most cutting edge, state-of-the-art technology, which in turn bolsters our economy as we export the technology abroad. You think it's a coincidence Japan is an economic powerhouse? They built the Maser canon.
• The constant external threat of kaiju provides internal stability politically and socially. During times of crisis, especially against external threats, people tend to cling together and support one another. The petty political rivalries would take a back seat to the cooperation of a people determined to do all within their power to meet the needs of every citizen before, during, and after a crisis.
• Consumer good production would increase as citizens replace lost clothing, furniture and other personal items after each attack, resulting in an economic boom for almost every industry.
  

There are numerous advantages to the threat of a few kaiju every couple of years. I for one think our great nation would benefit greatly from said attacks. I can hear some of you telling me that we had our chance and we blew it. We had King Kong attack New York in 1933, which in theory should have pulled us out of the Great Depression. However, I would like to point out that King Kong was smaller than most kaiju. He barely towered over any buildings and died before he could cause any great damage. Were he bigger, he would have done more damage and that fall from the Empire State Building would not have killed him. A true kaiju would have caused more damage and pulled us from the depression seven years early, which could have potentially prevented World War II. We don't want another World War. Its time we put pressure on Japan to stop monopolizing this colossal monster threat so that other economies can prosper as well. I saw we start a petition. Japan, share those monsters! We promise not to kill this one!

You have been informed.

Keep an eye on this kid...

Ladies and Gentlemen, it appears as though after a major flood hit Algeria, a baby was found to have survived several days on its own in the mud. In Algeria. A place suffering from civil unrest. A place brimming with lions and cheetahs, leopards and jackals. A country whose GDP falls substantially below most industrialized countries. This baby survived not only unattended, but was also considered to be in "good health." There are three possible explanations:

1. The infant used superpowers to fight off anyone who may have tried to cause it harm.
2. The infant came from space, possibly a doomed planet that sent a child into the cosmos to avoid total extinction of their people.
3. The infant is "unbreakable" like David Dunn, thus providing not super powers, but still some form of genetic exceptionality that makes it particularly durable.

One way or the other, to paraphrase a line from The Watchmen, there is a super man, and he (or she, it's pretty ambiguous) is Algerian. We should probably do our best to ensure that Algeria gets every opportunity to grow and develop (education grants, foreign aid, food and medical supplies, micro loans, etc), lest this child be tempted to turn to crime.

You have been informed.

Wil's Vampiric Powers and Life Changing Pub Crawl

Ladies and Gentlemen, I think it's time I get back to explaining Wil Wheaton's 10 Unknown Facts list. I believe I left off explaining six, so we should start today with number 7, which actually has a bonus explanation.

7) Wil Wheaton has access to seventh level disciplines.

This is just a quick one. First we must step back a hundred years. Two vampires were having it out (like they do) and one fleshcraft/bonecrafted an elder vampire into a cup for some really horrible thing. I think it was diablarie, and since the vampire got in trouble for drinking the soul of another vampire he was made into a cup so others would constantly drink from him? I don't know. The thought processes of vampires have always been a thing of mystery for me. Regardless.

Skip to the almost present. Wil was filming for Star Trek: Nemesis. The vampiric cup made its way onto the set as a prop for the wedding scene. Wil was assigned this cup. Using a touch induced dominate, the vampire was able to possess what he thought would be an actor who would essentially allow him to have a body to walk and talk with. Unfortunately for the vampire, Wil was in character at the moment. Really in character. So the vampire ultimately ended up possessing Wesley Crusher. When the scene ended, Wil took back over and the vampire was relegated to a permanent back seat, the way John Cusack was at the end of Being John Malkovich.

The director noticed this possession and made a very difficult decision. It would hurt Wil's feelings and possibly turn the actor against him, but it was for the safety of the world, so he had no choice. He had to make sure the character of Wesley Crusher never appeared again, lest the vampire take over and bring unspeakable horrors to the world. He would have the editor remove the character from the movie entirely under the pretense of "time constraints." Hence the character only being given one line and it being cut from the movie. Unless Wil reads this blog, he still does not know the real reason he was editted from the movie.

This post isn't over, however. I told you that you'd get a bonus explanation and you shall. When I posted this list, I changed item seven to "Wil Wheaton knows how to get to Callahan's Place," but for some reason, the change never saved onto the blog. Here's the explanation to the missing list item.

7a) Wil Wheaton knows how to get to Callahan's Place.

(Again, I mention that this is based on a third party account, so some of the dialogue may seem a little authentic. I assume it was much more real and heartfelt, and less cheesy when it actually happened.)

If you've read Just a Geek, you may recall the part of the book where Wil has several auditions in one week and has to skip a family trip to Tahoe to try out for these roles his agent found for him. What he did not mention was that one of these auditions was in New York. He did not get the callback and was feeling rather down. He decided that he would rent a car and drive back to California to give him a few days alone to wallow in his misery and have a nice long chat with Prove To Everyone That Quitting Star Trek Wasn't A Mistake. He stopped for gas and a pint of Guinness in New Jersey in a little out of the way bar, so out of the way in fact he was kinda surprised he found it. But then, that's the way things work at Callahan's Place. No one really finds the place unless they need to.

Wil walked in and took a seat at the bar. A warm friendly fellow of a man poured a pint of the cold creamy stout. No one pried, no one ever does, but the bartender, Mike Callahan, did let Wil know about the Option: When you buy a beer, you can either return the glass and get a small portion of your money back, or you can make a toast and throw the glass into the fireplace. (Mike has a belief that if you can name a pain, you can deal with it, you see, and so the toast is actually a way for people to name their pain and open up to the healing process).

Wil would not turn down the chance to smash something, at least not in the state he found himself in. He pulled his feet across the floor and stood before the hearth. The fire gleamed in his eyes as he raised his glass. "To fame," he said before downing the remainder of his beer and hurling the frosty mug into the roaring flames, sending a thousand shards of glass racing exploding from the center of the blaze where the glass struck. Wil observed a casual similarity to the Big Bang. So many tiny little stars flying out from one mass of burning potential. Sure, he realized that in actuallity, what he witnessed was, in fact, nothing like what the Big Bang really would have been like. Even so, he was stuck on the idea of comparatively little fragments of shiney nothing flying away from a point of infinite potential, a warm center brimming with the possibility of being anything and everything, but ultimately becoming nothing more than a smattering of brief tiny glimmers in a field of black.

He stared into the fireplace for a few more moments before laughing sadly to himself and shuffling back to the bar. Staring blankly at the counter, he ordered another. "Don't worry. I won't break this one."

"It's alright, kid. I buy in bulk."

Wil chuckled. He laughed He practically rolled. It wasn't funny. He had no idea why he found the idea so amusing, but it seemed to open a floodgate in him. It was the simplicity of it that grabbed his fancy, Wil determined. Glasses would break anyway. You may as well get some kind of visceral thrill out of the smash, savor the vicarious breaking of whatever ails you. Ails. Ales. He chuckled at the pun before sharing his observation with Mike Callahan.

Mike chuckled as well. "You'd fit right in here, kid. But something tells me that you're a little too far from home to be a regular."

Wil agreed and gave his story. The early success promising a future that wouldn't come. The doubt. The auditions. The love/hate relationship with the only thing that provided some form of semi-regular income. The seemingly endless stream of failure.

"Why do you need to be famous so much?" Mike asked.

"To prove to people that I'm not just some worthless guy who supposedly ruined their favorite show."

"What people?"

"I don't know. Just people."

"Don't you think you should at least learn their names before you worry about trying to impress them? I don't know about you, but I have a hard time knowing how to impress someone I don't know very well, let alone at all."

"I know, I know. But that doesn't make it any easier."

"What do the people you do know think of you?"

"They like me, I suppose."

"And their opinion matters to you?"

"Of course."

"Then why don't you worry about more about them and less about people you don't even know?"

"I suppose you're right. I mean, I know you're right, but..."

"Where are they right now? You're family?"

Wil sighed and told him about the trip, about bailing out at the last minute, about disappointing those he cared for only to be disappointed by his auditions and himself.

"They sound nice," Callahan said.

"They are," Wil sighed wistfully. "They really are. If I were half as good at my job as I am with them..."

"Vacation skipping excluded?"

"Vacation skipping excluded, I'd be huge."

"Why do you need to be rich and famous so much anyway?"

"So I can take care of them. And so I don't have to feel like such a huge failure all the time."

"Look," Callahan said, "in my experience, fame and fortune don't matter that much to those closest to you. And from what I've seen, kids with a steady supply of love tend to grow up much happier and well adjusted than those with a steady stream of wealth. You've become a loving father to these kids whose only experience with that in the past was Leave it to Beaver reruns. That means a lot more to them than seeing you on TV."

"Yeah. I should rearrange my priorities, huh?"

"Family first," Mike said with a smile.

"Family first," echoed Wil.

"I'm sure you'll find a lot more satisfaction in doing well at your career as a father and wife anyway."

"I'm sure I will."

Wil ordered another Guinness and joined in when Jake Stonebender and Fast Eddie sang a round of "The Drunkard's Song." When the song came to its closing bars, Wil paid his tab and made his way to the door, with more smile and substantially more bounce to his step than when he entered.

"Where ya headed?" asked Mike knowingly.

"Tahoe!" came the cheerful reply as the door closed behind him.

Now, Wil never made it to Tahoe. For reasons beyond his control, he went home instead. But that's another story for another day.

You have been informed.

Your 2008 Presidential Ticket

Ladies and Gentlemen, as we draw ever closer to the looming election, we must all give careful consideration to who we will vote for. I once heard a statistic that every election year, Mickey Mouse gets, on average, 200,000 votes. The more I think over this fact, the more I am saddened that more people don't vote for him. Let's look at where he stands politically.

• As a mouse, he's a little guy and an everyman. He truly represents the common people.
• He's friends with individuals of all species. Dogs, ducks, ghosts. It's all the same to him. He's not prejudiced.
• He isn't a man of great means. He lives a moderately comfortable life free of the suspicions against those wealthy elite with political aspirations. In other words, he's probably not a corporate lap dog.
• He has a strong sense of right and wrong.
• He's compassionate, especially to those in need.

There's a good chance our friend Mickey is a real Democrat and not a politician in the Democratic party. But who should be his running mate? How about long time friend and die-hard Republican Donald Duck? Don't believe he's a Republican? Allow me to prove it to you:

• He's a military veteran. The guy was in the navy for decades.
• He'll do anything for a buck.
  
• He was active in the war effort during World War II, and even managed to put aside his American greed for good old American patriotism.
• He practices strong family values by raising his three nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. He even taught them smoking is bad for kids.

What an amazing ticket this would be. The two rival parties united under one presidency. Both are clearly old enough to run for president. Both were born in the U.S.A. True, both are financially backed by one of the nation's more money-hungry family companies, but you can't have it all, I suppose. I don't know about you, friends, but I know how I'm voting in November.

Mouse-Duck 2008!

You have been informed.

Lock Your Doors

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Truth has been at work a lot this week and has thus been tired all since Saturday. Which is why today there will only be a little quick update for you.

The Bailout passed the Senate and is moving back to the House. Remember, if a government agent shows up at your door at night, hit him with a crucifix. There's a good chance he's a vampire. On the off chance the cross does not burn him, then for heavens sake do whatever he says. You don't want to imagine the trouble you get into for assaulting a government representative with religious iconography.

You have been informed.

The True Story of the Don King-Wayne Newton Fight

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ve done a little digging into the inevitable battle between Wayne Newton and Don King and from various security tapes and the sworn testimony of those present, I’ve been able to reconstruct what I believe to be an accurate telling of events as they happen.

***

Sweat poured from Wayne Newton’s brow as he stepped from the stage. Another show a success. He panted. These performances so far from home always took a lot out of him. Sure, he’d tell the stage hands that it was just this Mississippi humidity, but deep down, he knew the truth. He was too far from the vault, too far from the Holy Grail it contained. With every mile apart he felt his mortality return. So far from home, he would barely be able to walk away from a head on collision. Still, though he may not have been safe so distant from its power, it was far safer where it was than on the road. He couldn’t risk the grail falling into the wrong hands, such as those of long time rival Tom Jones. The thought of losing the chalice made his hair stand on end. Or was there perhaps something else in the air?

*

On the other side of the casino on the convention floor, the air sizzled with electricity as Don King promised the press what would certainly be the most prospicitous pugilation beyond all rememimbrification. Even so, deep within him, his spirit stirred. He could sense a power, a presence not far from him, Beyond Magnolia Ballroom to be sure. Beyond even the casino floor, but not much farther. In fact, if he had to guess, he would assume the source of these disturbances was the theatre. He rushed through the rest of the press conference, accidentally mispronouncing awesomicity, though no one seemed to notice. He had to find what caused his mind to buzz and flare. Surrounded by the blinding light of his rhinestone covered denim jacket, he quickly made his way down the back corridors to the stage.

*

In the theatre, Wayne Newton hurried to his dressing room, wrought with unplaced apprehension. As he rounded the corner, he found himself finally able to name his fear.

“King.”

“Newton.”

Wayne immediately sprang into Crane style, but Don King’s Monkey Fu outclassed the singer in moments. “I’m gonna increase the whoopitude on you a hundred-fold.”

The martial arts battle continued. Newton switched to Blind Frog Style, which King countered with Silent Tiger school. Naturally, Newton countered with Heavy Fist, due to its unbalancing effect on King’s graceful deadly dance. Silent Tiger gave way to Hungry Fox, but Newton anticipated the change and was already preemptively counterstriking with Hundred Petal Lotus technique. I could not ascertain who, but someone threw fencing blades to the two as they neared the stage. Again it became a contest of rival styles. They started with Agrippa due to the uneven surface of the stage steps, but Don King countered with Capo Ferro. Newton turned to Thibault, which he always felt cancelled out Capo Ferro. Now on the level stage, King was able to counter with the Bonetti defense. Looking at the scuff marks on the stage, I was able to ascertain that it was clearly the work of two masters, if not wizards, of swordcraft.

With a laugh, Don King switched his sword from his left to his right and began a relentless flurry of blades against the singer. Newton quickly became overwhelmed by the assault, lost his footing and fell, cursing himself for ever switching from the Agrippa. He began to climb to his feet before a searing pain shot through every nerve in his body. He cursed himself again. How could he have forgotten? How had he failed so completely to account for his opponent? For one brief moment, Newton had been on all fours. In that moment, Don King attempted his mental killing blow. Though by no means near, Wayne Newton was still close enough to the Holy Grail that the mental assault merely stunned him for all he was woth.

Sensing that he was losing the upper hand to Don King, Wayne Newton panicked and turned invisible. He had to get back to the grail if he was to survive this. Otherwise, Don King would sever his head and take his power. He raced for his private jet as Don King released a nigh endless flood of lightning through the theatre. Each blast burned like hellfire, but Wayne Newton managed to make it to the roof, where he boarded his aircraft and blasted his way across the menacing night sky.

Back in the theatre, Don King was momentarily stunned by the sonic boom, but knew where the singer must be going. Out of the building in a flash, Don King used his hypersonic speed to run down mile after endless mile of highway before finally reaching his destination: Wayne Newton Manor.

He began his merciless attack on Newton’s abode, but was quickly struck down by a being of raw force. Wayne Newton descended from the mansion aglow with holy avenging power. “Not here, mortal. Perhaps in Biloxi you could have defeated me, but not here. And not when I have THIS!”

Newton wielded the grail before him. It was filled with pure, unadulterated power. Indeed, the cup ranneth over with it. Don King had to back away. The power was too great for even him to be in the presence of. The promoter steeled his courage for one final, though futile attack. So close to the grail, Newton did not even need to defend against it. Don King was blasted back by Wayne Newton’s overpowering aura.

(the following I cannot confirm as the two were out of view of the camera, but I heard it in at least one account and I really want to believe it’s true.)

The singer strolled to Don King’s prone body, plucked a twenty from his wallet, and whispered into the beaten man’s ear before having him removed from the property.

“Danke schon, bitch!”

***

Again, this account is based on observation of security tapes coupled with my lip reading ability and the sworn statements of seven key witnesses and twelve auxiliary witnesses.

You have been informed.