love surgery: the best worst feeling in the world

Imagine you've got something perfect in your hands, and then you realize it's too... much. Too long, too large, too complex. It's perfect but it can't stay as it is or you won't be able to send it to where you intended it to go. It won't fit in its intended hole. It's too X to go into Y.

So you take a knife and cut it. Call it love surgery. You slice and splice and replace and resurface. You make it shorter, smaller, less complicated. Less perfect, and yet somehow more. Things whirl back into place, stronger for the shrinkage, somehow. The shiny parts get brighter and the darker parts get blacker. Everything is more for being less.

What was once perfect is now not as perfect, but somehow better. Or maybe it's not better, but it's somehow more perfect than before. The symphony's become a catchy, three-minute pop song that says everything you wanted the symphony to say, only in a lot less time, and with a jangly sugar guitar lick you can't help but smile at.

Because it wouldn't be there if you hadn't put it there on the re-do. If you hadn't loved it enough to rip it apart and put it back together again. If you hadn't gotten your hands bloody.

It's the best worst feeling in the world, that is.

(That and learning the high school crush you've been pining over for years, who took your heart and stomped on it by just wanting to be "friends" and dating a string of loser boyfriends, later turned out to be a baby-eating Martian psycho-killer who left a trail of bodies, crashed cars and weird body-part "art" between Columbus and Cambodia. But we're not going to talk about her, now. Because she might bust out of prison and come get us. And that would be bad, Bad, BAD.)

Because he was human, once

Before the aliens kidnapped him, somewhere in the mid-80's, and replaced him with some robot thing full of pus and space crickets, set upon us to unleash his deviant desires for small boys, pet chimps and theme parks, thus destroying one of the better parts of our 70's childhood, Michael Jackson was a damn good singer who made damn good songs.





I have no doubt the real Michael Jackson is locked up on a prison camp on Zeta Reticuli 4 - the same place those pus-blooded alien fucks put the pre-Vegas Elvis and Buddy Holly. And I know he's keeping the joint alive, singing and dancing every chance he can, waiting for the great escape home. One day he'll come flying back here in a saucer, show up that weird, alien thing that's stolen his life for the last twenty years or so, and record the best damn album you ever heard.

You just watch.

I don't know where you are, or how you are, or what the hell they're feeding you in prison. But you hang in there, old friend. I wanna rock with you, Michael - Don't stop til you get enough.

We R De Vo

Devo is going to release their first album in 19 years!

Details are kind of sketchy at this point, but hell, I'm stoked.

Where's Willy? Is the Zoo missing a PUMA?

Remember Will Bower, "head" of PUMA (otherwise known as Democrats Opposing Obama for McCain - DOOM)?

Some time ago I wondered if maybe PUMA, and other such groups, were a Democrat-created "False Flag" operation designed to corral the idiots and keep them from doing anything really dumb that might throw the election.

I got a rather weak response from someone claiming to be Will Bower:

"Which candidate would be more likely to do what your average Democrat would want him to do -- McCain or Obama?"



For me, Edward, it's more important to ask "What should the average Democrat want of his or her Party.

John McCain can be kept in check with the checks and balances of a Democratic Congress. However, if Obama in elected in November, anti-democratic behavior will be rewarded and enshrined within the Democratic Party.

If the Democratic Party won't uphold democratic principles, who will?

If the voters don't hold the Democratic Party accountable, who will?

I responded. He didn't respond back. Maybe he was too busy taking phone calls at DOOM central.

But where has he been, lately? He had an interview with Newsweek in January, when he was moping about the capitol during the inauguration, being the token vegetarian at the all-you-can-eat steakhouse buffet.

Will Bower, 36, walked around the Mall with millions of other Americans this morning. But unlike nearly everyone else in the crowd, Bower wasn’t cheering. He wore a Hillary Clinton T shirt (adorned with a HILLARY FOR PRESIDENT sticker) to show his support for the woman he feels the Democratic Party and a sexist media stole the election from. Bower recently left his job as an intellectual-property researcher at Thomson Reuters in order to work full time for the pro-Clinton group he cofounded, PUMA (Party Unity My Ass) ‘08. Bower, who is now living off of savings to work full time on what he calls his “labor of love,” has focused his efforts on reforming the primary system, which he says is undemocratic.

And since then... nothing.

He doesn't even have his picture up at Just Say No Deal, anymore. Some cute, semi-nude gal posing with an American flag greets us instead (so much for claims of sexism, there, folks).

So what's happened to the man who helped launch a coalition of "millions" of self-hating Democrats? Is he hard at work "reforming" the primary system, thus ensuring no one he doesn't want as President will ever get the nod ever again? Or is he being quietly reshuffled into the party, somewhere, as a payoff for having been a true believer?

Inquiring minds want to know.