Drawing: Citizens

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Strange Things Happening On Google Maps

Google Maps and Google Earth have created an pretty fun new app.: The Map of Strange.

The Map of Strange shows you the bizarre, interesting, and odd things you find on Google Maps and satellite photos. It is a publicly editable interface (ala wikipedia), I don't know how people find all this crazy stuff on Google Maps; but they do! For example: in the southeast, somehow found a car doing doughnuts in a parking lot:



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The Vice-President's residence (with some interesting comments):


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A capsized boat:

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An S.O.S.:

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McCain's 95 year old battle-axe mother teaches a lesson of intolerance and religious bigotry

John McCain's 95-year-old mother has savagely lashed out against her son's rival Mitt Romney. She claimed Friday that Mormons were to blame for the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics scandal.

In an appearance on MSNBC, Roberta "battle-axe" McCain laid out why her son deserves the Republican presidential nomination. Evaluating McCain's rivals, she criticized Romney's Mormon faith and his time in Salt Lake City. "As far as the Salt Lake City thing, he's a Mormon and the Mormons of Salt Lake City had caused that scandal," Mrs. McCain said.

John McCain quickly jumped in, [disingenuously] saying "The views of my mother's are not necessarily the views of mine." "Well, that's my view and you asked me," Roberta answered.

"I would disagree with any candidate or any campaign surrogate that chooses to disparage someone based on the faith that they hold, and instead implore other candidates and their campaigns to make a case to voters based on the important issues facing the nation," said Kevin Madden, a Romney campaign mouthpiece.

Roberta McCain said "I didn't mean to say it," as they stepped away from the cameras.

Senator McCain later said "What she meant was the Olympics were screwed up by the people in Salt Lake when Romney came in and fixed the problems there. But I know my 95-year-old mother is certainly in favor of Mormons."

What's next, John? People must be getting The Jitters about making your mom's "in favor of..." list! On Monday does she make a play for the redneck base, and rip into the African-American community, Catholics, or maybe even those pushy Jews?

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Painting: Dave Hokit and Jack Brummet on the summit of Mount Constitution

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Poem: Catch 23

Woodcarving by W.F. Bill Judt . Click to zoom.


You can only be locked up
For breaking

Three of the ten commandments.
And none of the seven deadly sins.

We have more slack
Than I thought.
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Onward and upward! George Bush's hunger for real estate moves into new territories

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President Bush finally beats Nixon & becomes the most unpopular President of All Time

click to enlarge - copyright (c) 2007 by All This Is That

The most recent USA TODAY/Gallup survey tells us something many of us already knew. That President George W. Bush is even less popular than President Nixon was at his very nadir.


President Bush sits today with a 31% approval rating . But even more signficantly, and for the first time polling history, 50% of those polled said they "strongly disapprove" of the president.

Yes, The President has even whupped Dick Nixon, who at his low (in 1974 in the throes of Watergate), shortly before his resignation, hit a 48% disapproval rating.

You can use the search box in the left hand corner of the blog to search for one of the hundreds of articles on Presidents Nixon and Bush that have appeared in All This Is That....

Mission accomplished: I beat Dick!

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All This Is That Reheated: Walibri Men Ask "May I shake your penis?"

When Walibri tribesmen of central Australia meet each other, they shake their penises instead of hands (I don't know how you greet their women. . .but I'd like to find out.).

I know what you're thinking--this is just the kind of blowhard confabulation I'm always trying to sell under the guise of arcane folkloric scholarship. If you don't believe me, do a G.I.S. a/k/a Google search. And guess what is the first citation that comes up? All This Is That, of course. We're number one in penis-shaking scholarship!

Obviously, people on the Internet have some interest in the Walibri, although truth be told, virtually every Walibri reference is less about the Walibi themselves than about their curious "handshaking" custom. Don't try to find out their annual rainfall, whether they are major exporters of bauxite, or their median income.

I'm pretty sure I saw guys shaking like this the time my friends Fuzzy and Richie [1] took me to The Anvil (a notorious leather bar) in the meat-packing district of lower Manhattan.

[1] Characters in My Worst Job No. 6, my long delayed story of working at Carl Fischer, Inc. in NYC.

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A New Sin

I've come up with a new sin. This has been germinating for something like 34 years.

When the sin is revealed, you'll have to enjoy it while you can, because the powers that be and the self-appointed moral executioners will, as Barney Fife says, "nip it in the bud."

The establishment will pass state, local, and national laws prohibiting the sin, and go to court to litigate which jurisdiction takes precedence. When the Pope gets wind of it, he'll be so spooked and rattled that he'll convene a Vatican III. As word spreads around the Moslem/Muslim world, the inventor of the new sin (yours truly) will be hung in effigy and they'll put a price on my head like Salman Rushdie.

The Ku Klux Klan will burn crosses with my face stapled to the crossbars and the televanegelists will howl for my hide. Religious and political factions will plot to take me out. Soon, the conservative press will demand my incarceration and possible execution; what else could they ask for an inventor and promulgator of degeneracy?

Like the hapless technician who discovers a new element, I invented nothing. I merely unlocked what was there, but hidden.

When the potential legal ramifications are squared away, I'll let you know. Somewhere, someone will need to write a new chapter or codicil to the Book of Mormon, The Torah, The Bible, and the Upanishads. Histories, books, and references will be updated to reflect the 8 Deadly Sins, the eleventh commandment, and the newly revised U.S. Code. An industry will spring up and around the new sin and provide work and income for philosophers, authors, prison guards (a/k/a screws), cops, lawyers, prosecutors, lawyers, judges, psychiatrists, parole officers, psychologists, poets, and behavioral scientists.

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Poem: The telepath

Either my brain won't transmit
Or it's all hokum—

I've tried over and over
To put the stink-eye

On those who have tresspassed
Against me.

I've stood on the lawn at midnight
Sending invites to the greys

And they kept right on going.
I have sat in meetings

And tried to hypnotize
The speaker as he drones

On about something
That will never really matter.

I have focused
Every electron of thought

On a perceived enemy
And they always survive.

Even when I know precisely
What they are thinking,

I've never actually
Been able to verify

Whether it's telepathy
Or my brain playing tricks with my heart.

Even though I can't transmit or receive
I've been able to mount a shield

Against hoodoo and voodoo
And ill wishes trained on me—

A personal strategic defense initiative,
A bulwark against real

And imagined threats
Beamed my way.
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First hand account of a Jenkem user

From a posting on livewire, comes this first person account of a Jenkem trip. To find out more about Jenken, check out this earlier post on All This Is That.

The posting seems to be by "pickwick" on the totse website.

2007-06-13, 12:55

Well today I finally did it. I became probably the first person in America to huff his own s**t gas. No video though, sorry, no camera. I hope you are not too disappointed. I could bet pictures though and I wrote a trip report.

Today the bubbles had mostly stopped. The balloon had possibly grown a little bit since last time but it was oblong from days in the sun or maybe from the gases inside so it was hard to tell. The shit in the bottle was very settled and did not look like shit anymore even.

I first lightly shook the bottle to make sure all of the bubbles had popped. I then pinched off the balloon and took it off of the top. I held that while I huffed from the bottle. After exhaling all air from my lungs I took my straw and inhaled from the inside of the bottle. The flavor of shit struck me, it stuck to the tongue like the flavor after smoking a cigar. My body wanted me to stop breathing it but I kept going by putting the end of the straw further back in my mouth, behind my tongue. I took a some more breaths of that and I waited a few seconds, then inhaled the balloon. The balloon was less harsh, I could barely taste any of it and it felt like breathing oxygen.

After breathing it in I immediately felt that I was passing out. I did not even have time to spit before I became unconscious. When I woke up my spittle had oozed out of my mouth and down my chin. I asked my friend how long I was out for. He said for about a minute, and that he had repeatedly tried to wake me but I would not wake up. During this short conversation I began to feel light dissociative effects come over me, accompanied by buzzing in my ears. The feeling got stronger and stronger until I felt like I was in a dream. This was somewhat enjoyable, it made me feel like nothing really mattered. The apathy actually made the rest of the trip more enjoyable.

After I was fully into the dream like state visual hallucinations began to start. I had fleeting visions of people who seemed completely random, like my second grade teacher. I would say something to the person and then he or she would disappear. Normally I would be fearful of trips like this but the dream feeling made it almost fun. Hearing was dulled during the trip, I could only hear what I was saying and some random noises like screeching and car noises. After I the effects wore off my friend told me that I was mostly talking in gibberish so I guess I couldn’t hear my own voice anything in the outside world throughout the trip. At the peak of the trip I saw things like pillars in my lawn that disappeared and shapes in the sky. My sense of time was slowed, so the whole trip felt like it was shorter than it was.

The comedown was mostly auditory hallucinations, like voices and loud cracks. The dream like feeling lessened and I drifted back into reality. In the last parts of the trip I became paranoid from the noises because it felt real instead of like a dream. I asked my friend how long it had been. He said about 40 minutes. He also told me that I spent long periods of time staring at different spots. I also, according to him, spoke slurred works to trees and rocks. I was very surprised by how messed up the jenkem got me. That was higher than I have ever been. Other drugs distort reality, but jenkem really distorts reality. I was almost completely unaware of my surroundings. My friend said that seeing me was scary and he was thinking of getting an adult. Thank god he didn’t do that.

In conclusion: was it enjoyable: no, not really. Would I do it again? Defiantly not. Would I recommend another person to try it? I wouldn’t to anyone who I am close to. If you are very adventurous and would try anything then I guess you should try jenkem. But know that the preparation is not made worthwhile by the trip.
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Poem: Are they on the way or is it "just my 'magination (once again)?"

From the rolling verdant hills of Karleekanosh
To the roiling oceans of Trunobulax,

We wait and watch the shifting skies
For the approach of our long-lost cousins,

Whirring in from far far away,
And wonder what they will bring—

A bag of goodies
To transcend life as we know it,

Or a Pandora's box
Of the unknown and unknowable,

Filled with plagues
And darkness?
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