I see echoes of something Satanic—slightly reminiscent of “Rosemary’s Baby” in this video. Part of me wants to run screaming from my computer, the other part of me is relieved by the realization that perhaps I didn’t take too much acid as a teenager, The Captain & Tennille sure fucking did though. The dancing muskrats make me want to rip my eyeballs out and make a milkshake out of them.

Be warned, people, for I present you, “Muskrat love”:

[Link to video]

On Friday, I left my office and hit the street, heading for the subway station. As I approached the corner of 27th and Park Avenue South, I noticed a white van, stopped at a red light. The door opened and a man jumped out to the curb, whipped out a digital camcorder and started filming the vehicle.

The guys still in the van screamed and pumped their fists as the driver started spinning the wheels in place and burning the rubber as hard as he could. The squealing of the tires was quite loud and within a few seconds, thick clouds of white smoke started pouring out. Still, this guy wouldn’t stop. The wheels kept shrieking and the smoke got worse. Soon the entire car was mostly hidden inside a thirty foot column of smoke. Cars stopped along the street and people got out, thinking there was a fire or a bomb. Crowds started forming while others quickly decided to get the fuck away as fast as possible. Me, I whipped out my cellphone and snapped this shot.

Then, as strangely as it started, the wheels stopped. The side door was flung open and the guy with the camera jumped inside. The van tore off down 27th with both of it’s front wheels burned out. The smoke was disgusting and everything smelled like burnt rubber. As I continued to walk to the subway station, I passed the spot where the van was and saw a whole mess of melted rubber, still smoking. Nasty.

There’s a crazy-ass documentary video being circulated showing a mock disaster response from a massive terrorist attack. The thirty minute video, featuring news anchor Forrest Sawyer, covers an outbreak of the plague in New Jersey as well as a suicide bomb and a plane used to deliver hazardous chemicals to civilians resulting in several thousand dead and injured. Apparantly it’s part of the TOPOFF exercises held by the Dept. of Defense just a little while ago to test response and preparedness in the face of an attack. It’s surreal. If you have a Bittorrent client, you can get the 83 meg file here. Remember, it’s all just a test.

This afternoon, daveb was thrilled to notice that the official Vatican website publishes the email address of the new Pope. Finally, a place to forward all those dirty office jokes, deranged drug-addled ramblings and illucid, slightly threatening and pronographic self portraits.

Granted, there’s likely a cadre of people that filter through the Pope’s email and it’s anone’s guess as to whether he actually responds or even reads them. But hey, fuck it. Daveb’s going to reach out and squeeeze the Pope.

In the meanwhile, feel free to contact him yourself. Email Pope Benedict XVI at benedictxvi@vatican.va.

Remember, Satan is our Lord and Master.

To be continued…

Daveb’s been following the news on the recent arrest of the guy they call the BTK Killer a.k.a. Dennis Rader. For those totally in the dark or unwilling to read the news stories, Rader, arrested recently has confessed to a series of murder that occurred in Wichita, Kansas between 1974 and 1991. Standing for “Bond, Torture, Kill”, he pissed off a lot of people in Kansas and managed to get away with it for a damn long time.

Still, Rader was/is a poser. He’s just a dried-up pissy little control freak who wants to be big, powerful and mysterious, instead of a jerk-off town dogcatcher. So he became a copycat, mimicking his heroes as best as his dull little brain would allow. Echoing the Zodiac Killer, the Son of Sam and Jack the Ripper, Rader sent police and a local TV news station several missives and clues over the years including this word puzzle, filled with hidden clues.

Word puzzles are fun stuff, especially when serial killers make them. Rader, may be a total poser wannabe without any originality, but at least he gave us a something to do on a lazy Sunday morning, after the crossword puzzle’s been strangled and buried under the flowerbed.