You knew what this was! And don't pretend different!

We all knew it was bound to happen. We sat there, pretended it wouldn't. Hoped beyond hope that maybe hope wasn't the worthless, irrelevant virtue that it is, was, and always will be. We ignored it, figuring the problem would right itself over time, that maybe, this day wouldn't come. But it was inevitable. It has come. And there's nothing, not a goddamned thing!!! any of you can do about it.

Yes, and don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about! I see you all there, sweating under the interrogator's lamp, begging for a glass of water, to wet your parched, and bitter palettes. Oh yes! You all knew. And yet you did nothing.

Yes, my friends, the day has arrived. The day, the hour, the motherfucking minute, that I got bored, and made another blog post.... It is 10 minutes to 10, on a saturday night. I am home alone, and you are all to blame for not calling me and telling me what the fuck was going on tonight. I hope you're proud of yourselves. And to hell with Froyd and whatever flippant comment he's going to throw down there!

Haha, I'm just kidding you guys. It's all good, right? I was just messing around. I do get so terribly bored sometimes.

The Anarchist's Healthy Heart Wiki

It is time, my gentle friends. The wonderful good people of cyberspace, the e-verse, and the lower planes of internet pornography, the one true place to get your voice heard (albeit edited, revised, and re-edited, chewed up, spit out, digested, and mulled over, after being marinated in a nice red wine vinegarette) is finally online! The Good Doctor, in his eternal benevolence, has added a new chapter in the history of cyberspace. And, gentle readers, here, the moment you've all been waiting for: The Link to the Ultimate Headquarters of Doctor Kuha's Office:


here

My Blog Sucks

Yes, it's true. I admit it freely and without reservation. My blog sucks. However, it does not suck as hardcore as so many blogs out there. In fact, I myself am totally awesome, so it sort of counterbalances the suckiness of my blog.

Let's just hope, for good or ill, that the Good Doctor will be around for many years to come, giving advice, keeping it real, and making people less sad than they would normally be if it wasn't for him. Even if it has to be through his sucky ass blog.

Good night and The Good Doctor bless you.


P.S. The picture of Rodney Dangerfield is merely designed to really freak the shit out of you.

Proof that Jesus DID die in vain.

An Anthem For The Little People
by Dr Kuha

“who is the Vice President?”
someone asked me the other day…
i said Richard Cheney
and said to Go Away

part of me wanted to lie
to say it was Lenin or Leann Rimes
to falsely educate an ignorant person
a sort of violence of the mind

how do you not know?
it’s not like Dick is new…
and perhaps most importantly of all…
how on Earth did you slip through?

who allowed this to happen?
who deserves the blame for this?
this travesty of boorishness
i knew who the VP was when i was six.

i tried not to dwell on it
while i shrugged into my coat
but some things are hard to forget
when these people get to vote

An Imposter is on the loose!

My friends, I have no pretty pictures for you today. Nothing that will brighten your mood, or elevate your spirit, or even give you a little chuckle. No, today, I bring you a warning, and it is a warning most dire. There is an imposter. This man pretends to have some sort of relation to me, but believe him not; they are all vicious lies. Not a word of it is to be believed. You must not allow his vicious slander to taint your view of me. I am not the evil man that this bastard wants you to think I am.

And so I propose that we destroy him once and for all, before his poisonous, treasonous, malignant, tainted words can turn you against, me, the Good Doctor.

A tragedy in the making

Six uncouth ruffians looking to pillage, a day late, a thousand dollars short, an anachronistic display of brutality and wonton disregard for anything pure and healthy. They were not recieved well at the Gala Event of the season. Stealing all of the patrons' valuables, they had to make off quickly, efficiently, and perhaps a bit ashamedly when the S.W.A.T. team arrived.

There's no place in this world for the likes of Vikings, Barbarians, REAL Cowboys, and rowdy rough-rider types anymore. Oh sure, there are pirates on the high seas, but the style is gone.

What must it have been like to see the sacking of Rome? No matter what side you were on, whether you were filled with fear or gleeful triumph, it would have been an amazing sight to behold. I miss the good old days. The days when men were men and women were women.

Oh sure, I'm too young to remember those days, but I can still remember them fondly in one way or another.

A savage youth with bright blue eyes and a depressed countenance signals the time to battle! Let the savage winds blow and the the barbarians ride again leaving the true art of destruction in thier wake.

Nintendogs

I'm going to be serious for a second. I made an interesting observation yesterday when I was at the family farm. One of my little cousins was playing this ridiculous game (Nintendogs) on the Nintendo DS, when my grandma's dog (a friendly yellow lab) came up to see her and see what was going on. But she was so absorbed in feeding, grooming, and training her electronic pets, that she pushed the real dog away.

What does this mean for humanity? I am fairly certain that it means that real pets, living, flesh-and-blood animals are obsolete and really should only be used for slave labor, since these electronic pets are so much more interesting. I mean, really, how can our family dogs compare to the sheer interactivity and reliable behavior of a pet based on a computer algorithm? They can't.

The Xmas Post

It's a funny thing about Xmas. I'm fairly certain--or at least as certain as one can be in these uncertain times--that Xmas doesn't bring anyone on this planet event he tiniest amount of joy, except for the children, but it's a tainted joy, because it centers around getting presents. You see, most people are so hell bent on making it the "best Xmas EVER," and are so wrapped up in making sure that everything goes like clockwork, that they forget to have a good time and stop being so stressed out. Holidays, especially the holidays, are the most stressful time of year, and I think Xmas, probably even more than St. Val's Day, has the highest suicide rate. And I'm sure most of those suicides are the direct result of a turkey that got a little too dry in the oven.

Weddings are the same way. People are way too stressed out to have a good time. Well, except for the guests who had nothing to do with the planning. They just drink the free booze, eat the free food, and dance with bridesmaids (or groomsmen). The actual people who are closest to the wedding itself, espcially the bride (it's her day), are the ones most likely to have panic attacks and high blood pressure on that big day. That's why I think eloping is much better.

Now, interestingly enough, funerals are the places where to the most sincere emotions are felt. Especially if the deceased was a truly loved person. People are too caught up in grief to worry about whether the funeral goes off without a hitch. And of course, some funerals are disasters (like if the coffin fell off the altar and the body fell out, and landed in a mangled heap), but most of the time, the actual disaster of losing a loved one outweights pretty much anything that could ever happen at the funeral itself.

The question: Why can't weddings and Xmases be more like funerals?

The answer: who knows? People are ridiculous.

The Good Doctor's Prescription: Have a fucking good time at Xmas, you ungrateful bunch of assholes. And if you don't, I will personally hunt you down, and shoot you full of happy drugs so that you can't help it.

Merry Xmas jerks!

We Make You Need Our Product

It is a well known, and long celebrated fact that telemarketers are hated above most other forms of advertisement and marketing schemes. That's why we at Kuha Global Enterprises, Inc, have devised a whole new way to get people to buy our products. The fine people down in Marketing have discovered that we can get much better results by using psychics to directly implant into people's minds the need to buy our product.

Why mess around with all the tedious hang ups of telemarketing campaigns, when all we need to do, is reach into a person's mind, instill in said person a deeply seeded need to buy our product (like for instance, the Quantum Occilating Trichrome Juicer, manufactured by one of our subsidiaries), and then, we extract out of their mind all the necessary information to finalize the transaction, such as credit card numbers, home address, social security numbers, and psychic imprints of all thier relatives so that we may build our customer base.

It's all so simple. Some may say it's an infringement of privacy, but we have made it abundantly clear, that by the time our sales pitch is done (and this is really just a matter of seconds), the customer not only wants our a product but needs it with a thirst that can only be quenched by the purchase of one of our many fine products and services.

The processes employed by our psychics are as non-invasive as possible, and leave only minimal damage with very few side-effects, like those reported by some of the customers of our competitors. We have never had a dissatisfied customer, because they all, in one way or another, end up with our product and are pleased by it.

Some have asked us how we acquire our telepaths. Well, the answer to that is simple. We breed them. They have no concept of an outside world, and exist only to push our products. This is fine, because they are bred to only want to push products and move merchandise. Kuha Enterprises never has surplus goods.

Our tele(pathic)marketers are some of the best in the business, and we have decided, that for a nominal fee, we will sell thier services to other corporations in need of a marketing campaign with near 100% success rate. Granted, this particular service will be very, very expensive, but we at Kuha Global Enterprises believe that it will be well worth everyone's while.

Never an unsatisfied Customer

Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men!

If you were to zoom into this picture and take a good look at the plaque on the wall, you would see that this skeleton has been dated to somewhere between 2130 and 2230 years BC. That means that this cat died over four thousand years ago. What does that mean for us as a species? I mean, why is this guy's skeleton be in a museum? And how can I get my skeleton in a museum? Hmm...good questions. First of all, who was this guy? There's no way of knowing for certain, but if you were to do a statsitcal model of all the people that ever lived, and what they did for a living, the likelihood of this guy being a blue collar worker (or the tribal equivalent thereof) is exceedingly high. Now, maybe he had a special burial, which would give him a slightly higher place in society. Maybe a priest or a chieftain. But since I don't know if the guy had a special burial (I took the picture a few years ago and haven't been back to that museum since), we can't be sure. Still, regardless of who this dude was, there is still a question to be asked: what is the significance of having this guy's corpse in a museum?

The answer? Humans are packrats. There are a few variables to consider: age, rarity...and...um...that's about it. It doesn't matter how interesting or educational the object is, if it's old or rare (preferably both) we are highly likely to keep it in a museum, or at least pay ridiculous sums of money to possess and show it off. I bet a dedicated mathematician could build you an equation modeling this trend. I mean, if Babe Ruth rookie cards are encased in mylar and stuffed in a hyperbaric chamber, this dude's skeleton is probably under lock and key...oh yeah...it is. And there's security cameras.

So why do we keep this useless crap around? I mean, aside from educational purposes, these things are useless. And Babe Ruth rookie cards (or trading cards in general) are totally fucking useless.

Okay, so educational purposes. Well...so we try to learn about ancient cultures by looking at thier skeletons and how they were buried. I'm pretty sure that scientists have learned everything they can about this skeleton, so why are we hanging on to it? I mean, right now, it's just clutter. Useless, annoying clutter. I took a picture of it, but that's all the further documentation that I need.

We're packrats. I have all sorts of useless crap around my house that I have for "sentimental reasons." And you know something? I think I would be a better person if it all burned up in a catastrophic fire (except my computer, I would want that to survive; it has no sentimental purpose whatsoever beyond the storage of these pictures).

I propose that we go on a campaign to eliminate all the useless junk that we, as a species, have accumulated over the years. Dinosaur bones, human remains, statues, paintings, musical compositions, pots, arrowheads, literature. It's all worthless crap and nobody learns anything useful from it anyway. We still have all the same problems that we've always had. How many jerks have written books about the folly of war? Tons of them! Let's get rid of it. We don't need it! We can live in the now, and forget the past.

And while we're at it, I think we should just completely stop looking to the future. It's totally pointless, since we can't plan anything out properly anyway. Let's just assume, since there's no "hard evidence" to the contrary, that the world will stay the same temperature, continue to belch out oil for our driving pleasure, and that no more animals will go extinct. The future be damned, and our grandkids with it.

So, now that we've eliminated the past and future, what about the present? I think we can stay pretty safe here. No lessons learned from our forefathers (who were they again?), and no reason to look more than a day or two ahead (I think I'll go play Dungeons and Dragons tomorrow night). Hmm... Paradise! Nothing more meaninful than a backrub or a pop song from some teeny bopper idol. That is so perfect. I would live here. Right now. And never think about anything else. Oh, and the best part is: all ideas are original. The statute of limitations would be no more than a year, so you can write a book about whatever you want, and you can't get sued for plagiarism!

My friends, I think I just solved all the world's problems! I mean, let's forget what all our ancestors did! They were all a bunch of screwups; I mean, they're dead, aren't they? And if we stop having them to look at for guidance, we won't make all of their mistakes again. I think it's a perfect plan. Yup. No problems with it whatsoever.