Happy New Year from FGAQ

2009 has been an interesting year, no?

Thank you all for being part of it.

the gaping maw opens

After keeping the Homeland in suspense for an obscene one hundred and eight hours, the nation's Frightener in Chief has at long last opened his gaping maw in an effort to re-instill the American people with patriotic feelings of fear and dread. "It's not like the former Vice President had nothing to say about the underpants fiasco," Cheney spokesman Liz Cheney told Politico's Mike Allen, "but being sensitive to the needs of the citizenry, he realizes that the mood of the people has been changed - softened and sissified - by the poetry of optimism and hope they have been subjected to by President Obama and his teleprompter of change. He needed to find a new way to speak to the American people and reassure them that nothing ever really changes. He wanted to reconnect them to the poetry of anxiety and trepidation. And so, without any further adieu, allow me to present the man of the mood of the millennium, my daddy." "Thank you, Liz, and good morning Politico," the grim faced Cheney said via webcam. "I have the sound turned off at my end, Mr Allen, so there will be no need for questions, not that you ever ask any. That's why I like you guys, and that's why I hereby give you permission to report my words as though they were spoken to you in the flesh. Now then, what I have for you this morning is something more than a statement, it is poetry. "You know, as I’ve watched the events of the last few days it has become clear to me that the American people once again need to hear about the beauty and valor of eternal war. And so, not without irony, my poem is entitled 'We Won't Be At War'. President Obama is trying to pretend we are not at war. He seems to think if he has a low-key response To an attempt To blow up an airliner and kill hundreds of people, We won’t be at war. He seems to think if he gives terrorists the rights of Americans Lets them lawyer up And reads them their Miranda rights, We won’t be at war. He seems to think if we bring the mastermind of Sept. 11 to New York Give him a lawyer And trial in civilian court, We won’t be at war. He seems to think if he closes Guantanamo And releases the hard-core Al Qaeda-trained terrorists - Still there! We won’t be at war. He seems to think if he gets rid of the words, 'War On Terror' Trademarked 2001 by me We won’t be at war. "Thank you, Mike, thank you very much. As I said at the outset, I can't hear you on my end, but I see your hands going back and forth in a clapping gesture, and that's good enough for me." "Now the point of my poem, in case the wordplay confused you, is that we are at war and when President Obama pretends we aren’t, it makes us less safe than we were for the eight years when I kept us secure. That better not be seven fingers you're holding up, Allen, or I'll shut down the goddamn video feed, too. I'll assume you were just trying to get my attention so that you could ask 'Why doesn’t he want to admit we’re at war?' Good question. It's because Obama hates America and everything it stands for, that's why. Don't you shake you head at me, you son of a bitch, this interview is over. And don't give me that pathetic imploring look. Liz, kill the video. Webcam then, whatever the fuck it is, just kill it... Goddamn it Liz, I told you I shouldn't speak until Rush and Hannity were back from their Christmas break."

ABS

In a strong reversal of course, most House members are now strongly supportive of the use of the technological miracle known as the Airport Body Scan, or ABS for short (cause abs show up really well). Earlier this year, Utah Republican Jason Chaffetz successfully inserted an amendment into the House version of the Homeland Security authorization bill which prohibited the use of the futuristic technique from being used as a primary screening tool. A coalition of conservative libertarians and modest liberals helped pass the amendment by an impressive 310 to 118. "I fly on airplanes every three, four days," explained Chaffetz, who is a member of the Later Day Saints, "and I didn't want anybody looking at my secret Mormon underwear. That's a legitimate concern, a Church and State issue." Chaffetz now finds himself in a dwindling minority of House members to speak up for the primacy of his undies in the aftermath of the most audacious attack ever launched against America by a man wearing exploding underpants. "Go ahead and scan me," challenged Michigan congresswoman Michelle Bachman. "I've got nothing to hide, and neither should anybody else in the House, unless they care more about their Fruit of the Looms than they care about national security." "I'm with you all the way, Michelle," chimed in House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. "If body scans will prevent another attempt on American lives by a terrorist who wants to detonate his drawers, I'll show my Hanes every day of the week." "It's a difficult balance between protecting our civil liberties and protecting the safety of people on airplanes," protested Chaffetz. "But, I believe there's technology out there that can identify bomb-type materials without necessarily overly invading our privacy." "Jason is right," added Pennsylvania's Joe Sestak. "There's some much cheaper technology that can solve this problem. Come on everybody, let's pants the sucker."

waiting for the gaping maw

"It took the President seventy-two hours to address the country following the most terrible albeit unsuccessful terrorist attack in the eight years since Dick Cheney first made us safe," fumed New York congressman Peter King, ranking GOP member of the Homeland Security Committee. "Seventy-two hours for him to face the nation. I myself was on 'Face the Nation' on Sunday, and I'm not even president. It's just unspeakable. Unfortunately, so is Vice President Cheney. It's been over ninety-six hours, and he still hasn't expounded on our imminent threat. Oh where oh where can that Dick be?" "When he does speak, there will be trembling throughout the land," King declares. "That much I can absolutely guarantee... I guess pretty much guarantee would be more accurate. I'm relatively sure that within the Democrat Party, there will be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Not in public, mind you, so the media probably won't report it. Curse words will be uttered. Reflexive defensiveness will kick in. All this and more, assuming Cheney hurries up and makes it so." "Unlike President Obama, the former Vice President is not on a Hawaiian vacation," says Cheney spokesman Liz Cheney. "But it is kind of an awkward time of year. With Rush and Hannity and Beck all on vacation, who is supposed to ask daddy what he thinks? Who's going to endlessly repeat his talking points and drive them home to the American people? You can't just expect him to go on the Neal Boortz Show or something." "This is a tragedy of epic proportions," said alarmed Michigan congressman Hoekstra (the other white Pete). "Without our party spokesmen, we are left without a voice. Well, maybe a small whiney voice, but nothing to write home about."

back away slowly

Disgraced former congressman Mark Foley has at long last found a reason to feel good about himself - he's not Max Baucus. "I saw this link on Drudge that read 'Drunk with power', and being the adventurous type, I had no choice but to click it," Foley wrote on his Facebook page. "There he was, Max Baucus, drunk as a skunk on the Senate floor. Allegedly drunk as a skunk on the Senate floor, I should phrase it. Just in case, you know, the liberal goon squads are reading this, because they'd like to take another shot at Mark Foley. I just know they would." "Let me just say that it definitely looked to me like Max Baucus was drunk, and I know a good bit about being drunk, having slept through many a night on a cold kitchen floor. I'm not implying that Baucus was lying on the Senate floor, that might be construed as slanderous, which really wouldn't bother me, except slanderous is sometimes confused with libelous, and I'm really not prepared to see another lawyer for the rest of my life if I can help it. But it occurs to me that if I use lying in the context of telling falsehoods, I'm pretty much in the clear. So there was Max Baucus, lying on the Senate floor... Bwaha ha ha ha ha..." "Man, that is pretty funny if I do say myself, which I guess is pretty much the case, since I'm just sitting here by myself in my shorts typing in the dark. I'm so glad I've got a Facebook page."

Houston woman recovering

Fifty-eight year old Houston resident Mary Beth Bopkins has been released from the Lyndon B Johnson Panic Center, where she had been hospitalized since Thursday after receiving the worst Anniversary present ever. Bopkins was traumatized on Christmas eve when she opened a large gift-wrapped package from her husband Larry and discovered a boogalooing Michael Steele. "I suppose it should have been strangely hilarious," said Mary Beth, "But believe me, it was not. As soon as I untied the ribbon, this weird man popped out and began gyrating. I was afraid that he might poke my eye out, and having experienced that particular trauma once before, I was not eager to see it happen again." "I don't mean to imply that Michael Steele has poked my eye out before," Ms Bopkins clarified. "That particular unpleasantness happened when I was a teenager, attending a shindig which featured the Fantastic Johnny C - who, by the way, was not all that fantastic. Nevertheless, the experience did instill within me a fear of the boogaloo which I've never quite been able to shake." Mary Beth's husband Larry feels just terrible about all of this. "I feel just terrible about all of this," says Mr Bopkins. "Mary Beth and me got married on December 24th back in 1998, and I guess that since we're in the midst of the holiday season, right smack dab in between Zappadan and Christmas, I try to make our anniversary a little special by going with the traditional anniversary gifts. This being the eleventh, you're supposed to give the gift of steel, and when I heard Glenn Beck advertising his 'Big Box of Steel', I thought that would be perfect. He said that steel had gone up 120 percent since 2001, and he owned it himself... Heck, I don't know what to say except that I tried to please my woman with something nice and it didn't work out. Maybe I should just start going with flowers. Last year the traditional gift was aluminum. I gave Mary Beth the deluxe gift can of Spam and she cut off the tip of her pinky opening it."

Lieberman fingers Yemen

CIGNA spokesman Joe Lieberman today became the first senator to suggest that it might be a real good idea for the United States to invade Yemen. "Iraq was yesterday's war," Holy Joe told FOX News Sunday. "Afghanistan is today's war. If we don't act preemptively, Yemen will be tomorrow's war, and I've got a busy day planned for tomorrow." Lieberman said that it was no surprise whatsoever that there appeared to be a connection between the Yemeni branch of al-Qaeda and Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the Nigerian who failed to blow up Northwest Airlines flight 253. "Just another terrorist with explosives in his pants? I think not. This is a man who had been to Yemen, a man whose father was a Nigerian prince that was up to his neck in internet scams. I myself was one of his father's victims, naively believing that this prince had selected me as a receptacle for his trust. I won't go into details, but it involved the transfer of funds to a bank, in Yemen, and I foolishly thought that in my capacity as a United States senator I could be of some assistance. And then 911 happened. Janet Napolitano says there is no evidence of a wider terrorist plot? Sounds to me like she doesn't know a whole lot about Yemen."

A funky Christmas to ya all

Season's Greetings from Sarah Palin's Facebook

THIS IS A LIE! (Up above, I mean.) Merry Christmas and all, but the important thing is that I never said that I wasn't the biggest liar of the year. Those were not my words!!!! I explicitly said on my last Facebook posting that I did not tell the biggest lie of the year, not that I wasn't the biggest liar of the year. God, are these people too dumb to read my Facebook? That's pathetic. You just go (on your computer) to www dot facebook dot com forward-slash sarahpalin (all one word). That's all there is to it. You don't even have to use capitol letters, I don't think. Hold on... No you don't even have to use capitol letters, although I'll admit the part about using my name all run together is a little tricky until you get the hang of it. So like I was saying, it is a lie to say that I said that I'm not the biggest liar of the year, when in fact, I never uttered those words, nor did I write them on my Facebook. My lawyer says that these people are not liable because they never said that I said it, even though they sure as shooting made it look like I said it. All I can say is that they're lucky that they didn't put quotation marks around those untrue words or they would be in BIG trouble. And who are these people, Politics Daily? I never heard of them, and I read pretty much everything. (Let me correct that statement before somebody else calls me a liar - I never heard of them until now. And also until NOW, I never heard of this writer David Corn. What does he call his lying mouth - his cornhole? Oh God, Todd is gonna love that one. Hold on...) Todd loved my cornhole joke, but really, it's no joke to be called the biggest liar of the year. You know who the biggest liar of the year is? Debbie Greenwald who works at 'Out of the Closet' in Anchorage, that's who. Earlier this year, before I was rich, I went to my former favorite consignment store just to look, and I saw this Armani suit in my color (red) and my size (8) and so I kind of figured that it was meant to be mine so I told Debbie that I wanted to try it on and she said "Sorry Sarah, but someone just paid for that five minutes ago and I'm just holding it until they finish shopping" so I said "I'll give you money for it right now and you can give them their money back" and she said "Sorry Sarah, no can do" and I said "For twenty bucks extra I bet you can do, Debbie" and she said "Sorry Sarah, professional ethics, don't ya know" and I know she doesn't know the first thing about professional ethics because she just works in a consignment store (although it used to be a really nice one), so I just said "Fine" but with the sort of tone in my voice where you could tell that it was not fine at all and she said "Have a nice day, Sarah" and I said "You too, Debbie." And then the next week, I was with Todd at Victoria's Tavern in Anchorage feasting on their scrumptious lemon-baked scrod with crab meat, and in waltzes Debbie Greenwald and you just know what she was wearing. And it was way too small for her - she'd be better off in a Santa suit than an Armani. Todd is gonna love that one. Hold on... Todd doesn't get it, and I don't have the time or the patience to explain fashion humor to him. So if you want to talk biggest liar of the year I suggest that you give Debbie Greenwald a call at 907-555-5492. (All my Facebook friends, please don't you give Debbie a call, that number is just for David Cornhole. And if you do ring her up in spite of my asking you not to, please don't call her a lard ass.) That's all I've got. Merry Christmas and everything.

President pleased

After celebrating with an awkward 'Victory Texas Two Step' in the Oval Office, a jubilant President Obama praised the Senate Health Care vote this morning before boarding Air Force One and heading to Hawaii for a well-earned vacation. "Yay and whoopee, sis-boom-bah," Obama said in his brief remarks before departing. "Historic vote, pineapple pie, long overdue, hang five. Teddy Roosevelt, Island girls, meaningful reform. Golf! Cost savings, pig roast, 2010. Yahoo, Oahu, American people." "Aloha, everybody, Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. See ya soon, I'm outta here!"

your stupid tax dollars at work

Cake? You can't eat the fucking cake! We're talking Bizzaro World Marie Antoinette here. Like the ridiculous pardoning of the oven-ready turkeys, here is another grotesque White House tradition that we had so hoped Obama would have throttled with glee. But now, following the enlightenment, we've got marzipan replicas of eggplants grown in the Example Garden, complete with a miniature pseudo-edible Bo Same as it ever was, except that this time it's white chocolate, motherfucker, 250 pounds of it, and it's got honey from the White House bee hive, and really, really, the best commentary I can make is to reprint the following piece from the Christmas of 2006. Let them eat an enormous fucking cake. According to the Chief Executive's web site, the above monstrosity of dark chocolate and gingerbread weighs in at over three hundred pounds of sugary goodness and took more than three weeks to make, meaning it was already stale before anyone was able to get as much as a bite out of the Lincoln bedroom. Which, I suppose, makes the Bush White House more of a metaphor than an after dinner treat. It's as though spring was never waiting for us, girl, it ran one step ahead as we followed in the dance, and then we abruptly changed to an even better metaphor (albeit one without a subject) about laundry where we noted that between the parted pages we were pressed by love's hot, fevered iron, like a strip-ed pair of pants. That's strip-ed, not striped, because striped pairs of pants are only worn by the lower classes, or buffoons, or girls with really big asses who don't seem to realize that this sort of fashion decision only aggravates their problems. So ultimately, the fudge White House is melting in the dark, all the sweet, brown icing flowing down. Someone left the cake out in the rain and I don't think that I can take it, cause it took so long to bake it and I'll never have that recipe again. Oh, no! Oh, no! No, no, oh no!! Sonofabitch was never meant to be eaten.

The Tom Coburn Death Wish Watch

Okay, just to set this up in case you missed it during the blur of Zappadan, but on Sunday afternoon Senator Tom Coburn took to the floor to suggest a special health care appeal to the Deity - "What the American people ought to pray is that somebody can’t make the vote tonight. That’s what they ought to pray." Not surprisingly, this was taken as a desire by Coburn to see ailing 92 year old Robert Byrd shuffle off this mortal coil, and a call for fellow wingnuts to compound their power of prayer in order to help Byrd on his way. Cut to yesterday on C-SPAN, with far-right Senator John Barrasso (The Clean Water Act is a federal power grab!) taking calls... The caller is brilliant, brief and pitch perfect, but it's the vacant, million mile stare of Barrasso that's the star of this video.

Rudy not running, not running away

America's Mayor Rudy Giuliani, who today seemed to come face to face with the realization that he would probably never surpass his bold accomplishment of scaring Osama bin Laden the hell away from New York City forever, has stunned the political world by declaring that he will neither run for the Senate in 2010 nor run for Governor of New York, two jobs for which he was imminently qualified, and would have undoubtedly been the front runner had he chosen to enter the race. "Sorry New York, but there are smaller men with smaller dreams, and God willing, they shall serve you well," said the Brooklyn native son, whose mother was an Italian immigrant, and whose father was the demigod Gilgamesh, builder of the fabled walls of Uruk. Giuliani, who has never before dropped out of two political races in a single day, made it clear that his decision was not part of a trend, but said that he's only interested in 'the big jobs'. "Me, I'm going to be in Brazil. You know, they call me America's Mayor, but truth be told, I haven't really earned that title. I've only saved North America, and as my father taught me, for every North there is a South. Brazil is a part of that South, and Rio de Janeiro is a part of that Brazil, the very part that will be hosting the 2016 Olympics, a tempting terrorist target if I ever saw one. My security firm, 'Giuliani Partners LLC', is handling that particular piece of business, and you better believe that it will be taken care of. I'm thinking of building giant walls."

Zappadan 2009, the final credits

Special thanks to Brady Bonk of Ketchup is a Vegetable, who put together the Zappadan Tweeter Network, and posted many fine Zappadan contributions. Special thanks to Blue Gal, at her own blog as well as at Crooks & Liars for spreading the word far and wide, and also too, for her own excellent contributions. Special thanks to Zen Comix for bringing us Frank both in Spirit and in spirit. Special thanks to Urantian Sojourn who I've quite rightly dubbed the Poet Laureates of Zappadan, Mock, Paper, Scissors for constant creativity and support, and not to be redundant although indeed I am, the ultra-mysterious darkblack for constant creativity and support. And still there's more. In my very best approximation of alphabetical order, Special thanks for the special contributions from 3C Patent Law, 68comeback special, After The Bridge, alicia policia, Alternate Brain, A Modified Dog, The Anchovy Daiquiri Shack, The Brain Police, Bildungblog, Blckdgrd, Contingencies, The Culture Ghost, Dave Knows Portland, Freida Bee, From Laurel Street, Illiterate Electorate, I Painted My Fridge Red, Iranianredneck, Like Dancing About Architecture, Loud Mouth Soup, Luiz Woodstock, Mad Dog Media, MF Blog, Mikeb302000, News Hounds, Ornery Bastard, Outside the Interzone, Progressive Alaska, Pushing Rope, Rawrahs, Salmon Alley, ShortWoman, Skippy the Bush Kangaroo, The Adventures of Zevo Calamari & Boo, The Aristocrats, The Guys From Area 51, The Jade Gate, Tiny Little Circles, Uncommon Squalor, Under the Lobsterscope, Welcome to Pottersville 2, Wetmachine, Wisdom of the West, hair of the dog from driftglass, and anyone else I've inadvertently missed. MERRY ZAPPADAN! ...and one more thing - hit it, Theodore!

Zombie Woof (Epilogue)

Rest of the story starts here.

December 21, 2009

How ya doin', Mr Buchanan? Long time, no see. You want me to set you up with one of your Thorogood specials?

Not tonight, Joe. Just a cup of coffee with a little Irish in it. I was just stopping by in hopes that Frank Zappa might show up again this year...

Hadn't seen him since Zappadan last year, Mr Buchanan. And the only other time was back in '93. He's kinda like Haley's Comet. Funny thing is, those are the only two times you've ever been in here, other than tonight. You two don't have some sort of weird karmic connection thing going on, do you?

Me and Frank? Nah, I don't think so. I mean, probably not... But then, it is a little strange the way our paths have crossed. Maybe I'll take off my jacket and wait a while, just in case...

meanwhile, at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen... Come on, Gail, let me outta here! I'm so hungry I could eat your cooking.

Here's a couple of Slim Jims, Frank, but that's all you're getting until you find something worth releasing in your enormous archives.

If it was worth releasing I probably already would have released it when I was alive. Oh man... Look at all these tapes... Maybe I can hobble together a Lost Episodes, volume 2.

I heard that, Frank. I want something with conceptual continuity. Now get to work.

and up in Rock & Roll Heaven Purgatory Man, I sure do envy Frank, getting to walk among the living for most of December. I wonder how he managed to swing that deal.

I think it's like some kinda curse or something, Jimi. I was talkin to him one time and he told me that the modern day composer wasn't allowed to die.

That must be a new rule that didn't go into effect until after we were already here. Jeez, this place is boring. I'd pay a fortune right now for a cold beer.

Here you go, sir, one icy cold Miller Lite in a can. And there's no charge, Mr Morrison. Your money is no good here.

That's fortunate, because I wouldn't pay a nickel for this swill. Fucking Robert Novak... Jeez, this place is boring. I'd pay a fortune right now for a glass of Jack Daniels.

Here you go, honey. Grab yourself a big old swig off of my Southern Comfort.

Get outta here. That sweet shit makes me wanna puke. Fucking Janis Joplin... You know, I'd pay a fortune for...

Would you kindly just shut the hell up? All you old rock stars do is sit around pissing and moaning.

Who you calling an old rock star, punk? And as I recall, pissing and moaning seemed to have been a specialty of yours.

Heh heh, you just got flamed by the King, Kurt.

Excuse me, but will some tell me how it is that Joey Ramone is even technically qualified to be here in Rock and Roll Purgatory?

He is dead and he is here. Ergo, ipso facto.

Shut up and get me another beer, Novak. You know, that's one of the things that I like about Rock and Roll Purgatory. The quality might not be anything to write home about, but you can eat and drink all you want without getting fat.

Amen to that, brother. But I gotta say, I think that this place makes a pretty good cheeseburger.

But I don't want a cheeseburger. I just want a little time to walk the earth like Frank Zappa does.

You know, Kurt, things may not be the way that you're imagining them. I think Elvis had it right. It may be more of a curse. You ever notice how happy Frank always seems when he gets back here?

Yes indeed, Brother John. Whatcha think the story is with that?

Well, there's not really a lot of people that care about our music anymore. Oh sure, there's a lot of people who remember caring about it. A little nostalgia for the old folks, Frank called it.

John is right. My last record didn't sell shit even when I died. People wanted to hear the hits like 'Beat on the Brat' and 'I Want to be Sedated'.

I don't know what you're talking about, son, but it sure sounds like the truth to me. People be coming to my shows and yelling for 'Sex Machine', and I'm like, Damn! I'm 73 years old!

Yeah, and there's the whole family thing to deal with. If I were to return, I imagine Yoko would have me shut away trying to help her on some project or another, and I'll bet Courtney is the same way.

Dig it. It wouldn't surprise me a bit to find out that Frank's wife has him locked up in the studio going through that enormous archive of his. You guys wanna jam?

I... I think I'll have that cheeseburger now.

One cheeseburger, coming right up. Another beer, Mr Morrison?

Back at Joe's... Look at the time, will you? I've got to do 'Morning Joe' in the morning, Joe, so I guess I better get ready to go. How much do I owe, Joe?

Two coffees with Irish... That'll be twelve bucks, Mr Buchanan. Sorry that your friend didn't show up tonight.

My friend? I guess he's not really my friend... Just a man who changed my life. Merry Zappadan, Joe.

Interesting character, that Buchanan. I thought you knew him, Thedy Sue. You should have joined him for a holiday drink.

I've met him a couple times, Joe, but he seemed a little preoccupied tonight. Hey, you've got another customer that just walked in.

How you doing tonight, Mr Zappa? Your wife finally let you out of the house?

Sure did, Joe. I found some out-takes and backing tracks from '73 and '74 that she can try and sell as 'Over-Nite Apostrophe'. I tell you, Joe, this walking the earth stuff isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I hear you, pal. So what can I fix you up with tonight, Mr Zappa?

I've just got enough time left for one of your world famous rib-eyes, Joe, extra bloody.

You got it, pal. On the house.