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Mr. Wrong

All Techniques Into None

By Joe MacLeod | Posted 1/29/2003

This past weekend used to be the happiest time of year for me, the time for my Holiest of Holies, the apex, the acme, the ne plus ultra, if you will, of my capitalistic, consumeriffic American Dream. But The Enemy has ruined my beautiful Super Bowl Roman Numeral Whatever.

I can't sit around and watch the Super Bowl anymore if everybody else is watching it, because that means nobody's watching out for The Enemy. On Teevee, of course. I mean, where else are you gonna find out about the comings and goings of The Enemy? In a newspaper or something? That's gonna be some old news if you're reading about The Enemy in the newspaper, pal.

So now my Super Bowl is ruined because everybody's watching it, or watching teevee inaccurately. You're always gonna have some of that anti-Super Bowl counterprogramming going on, and the people who are watching (completely out of spite because they are haters of Super Bowl) are watching incorrectly and not keeping an eye peeled for The Enemy, because they are not watching the Right or Left Wing War/News Channel. Somebody has to watch out for The Enemy during the Whatevereth Roman Numeral Super Bowl, OK? What am I supposed to do, watch Super Bowl Roman Numeral Whatever just to find out I got my bet on the score ass-backward (Oakland and The Under) as usual and then read in the newspaper that The Enemy has struck again? If I could blow something up so that I could have my carefree, enjoyable Super Bowl Roman Numeral Whatever back the way it used to be, I would be all for it. Launch All Missiles. But I'm not as stupid as I think you think I am, got it?

So I didn't really pay attention to any football this year except to find out which Roman Numeral Super Bowl it was going to be, I figured I would just watch the XXXVII commercials and then read in the newspaper to find out what the score was. That way I could see all the commercials and check in with one of the News War Channels every once in awhile to make sure The Enemy wasn't taking advantage of all the eating and drinking and gambling going on in the Land of the Mostly Free Except for Those Who Are Suspected of Being The Enemy and Are Being Detained for an Indeterminate Period of Time.

So I got to see the commercial where the squirrel climbed up the guy's pant leg and bit him like "KERR-RUNCH" on an unspecified part of this guy's anatomy. Ow. I don't remember what product it was for, except that when the guy got KERR-RUNCHed by the squirrel, he screamed out, "NO-OOO!" instead of, "Yes," which was what some guys ahead of him were saying, so basically he probably would have also said "yes" except for the carnivorous squirrel in his pants. Who wouldn't?

Earlier--or maybe a day before (it's hard to tell the difference between days when you watch teevee as, uh, closely as I do)--I heard on one of the War/News Channels about this big plan to shoot, I don't know, something like 300 cruise missiles or smart bombs or something at Saddam's house all at once on the first official big day of The New War and that this would, I guess, be a big psychological weapon to make . . . to make, uh . . . damn. I can't remember exactly, but it was something about how shooting as many bombs and/or missiles at him in one day as we did in the whole entire Last War would make everybody who worked for Saddam crap their pants and stick up their hands all at once. It's, like, a psychological weapon, dig? Hundreds and hundreds of smart bombs and equally intelligent if not a tad bit smarter missiles such as the Tomahawk or the AGM-86C, which differs from the AGM-86B air-launched cruise missile in that it carries a conventional blast/fragmentation payload rather than a nuclear payload and employs a GPS-aided INS. OK, that last part about the "conventional blast/fragmentation payload" and stuff I totally lifted off this Web site,, because I couldn't remember what the guy on the news show said about the Big Plan. But check it out: There's an "additional $160,000 conversion cost" for the AGM-86C compared to the AGM-86B, which costs $1 million. And look, the AGM-86B is the nuclear one, dig?

Anyway, I also remember the commercial with Willie Nelson getting forced to do a commercial for shaving cream because his taxes were all fucked up. That one was for H&R Block. I also didn't watch the actual football part of the Super Bowl because I had to write this column, which I put off until the last minute because I got attacked by the Creeping Death cold and/or flu that everybody at the office has been trying to infect me with for two or three weeks, and all I did for a couple of days up to Super Bowl Eve (aka Saturday) was hack up scary-looking clumps of lung sadness, and this kept me from hacking out my hack column. But I probably would have waited anyway, so I could write about looking at the commercial featuring the lady with the big giant ass (Budweiser), Ozzy Osbourne (some sort of Pepsi product), the no-tag Hanes T-shirt (Jackie Chan), and the Reebok commercial with the hulking "office linebacker" guy who violently tackles office workers for malingering and failing to put cover sheets on their TPS reports. And the Hulk. There was a commercial for the Hulk movie, who is also hulking. That movie doesn't come out for a while, and by then, our Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines will be Out There fucking with Saddam. Which would be a perfect time for The Enemy to strike, eh? I'll be watching my teevee carefully.

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