Comrades, I never thought that I would be with you again. I was out, minding my own business on the streets of Culo de Pecos, checking the doors of the cars to make sure that they were locked, and if they weren't I was holding the interesting things in the car for safekeeping. I was going to return them later. I promise.

I heard a noise and felt something cold at the back of my neck. "Freeze, prog! Don't move or I'll blow your head off!"

I froze, or nearly. The man he was with started laughing.

"What!?" I asked with a good deal of heat. "What's the matter?"

"This pansy prog just pissed his pants!"

"I'll have you know," I said, my head perkily cocked to the side, just like Jodin Morey, "I have every right on earth to determine when I shall micturate." I knew I was on good ground because every time that dear Jodin came to the Rancho I'd have to repaint the bottom foot of the walls and replace the carpets. Once I accidentally dropped a glass and he peed on the ceiling. So if it's good enough for Jodin, it's good enough for me.

"Jeez," the first man, and I'll call him Milton, said. "I scared the piss out of him. Not much of a man."

"I'll have you know," I sniffed, my nose as high in the air as dear Barack's, "that I'm an Uberprog. I'm so filled with compassion and equality that there's absolutely nothing on earth that I don't feel qualified to order about, take over, direct, and ultimately destroy. Why, Michael Moore sometimes asks me for advice.

"'Theocritus,' Michael has often said, 'I've bitten every single hand that has fed me. What next'? And I tell him what to do. So don't tell me that I'm not much of man. Why, even Jodin Morey is scared of me."

"Jodin Morey is scared of crippled blind man with a cup full of pencils."

"Enough!" shouted the second man, whom I'll call Bill. "It's time for his reparative therapy."

And with that they hustled me into the back of Suburban.

Milton said, "Goddamn it! I don't want pee all over my SUV!"

"What?" I screamed. "I learned how to pee like that from Jodin Morey. Would you reject a meal from a man who learned to cook from Julia Child? Would you not listen to a Mozart concerto from a pianist who learned at Julliard? I tell you, Jodin Morey taught me to piss myself. Get it? If you can't appreciate honest prog pee, I pity you."

"Shut up and get in, pussyboy."

With that they put a bag over my head and shoved me in the car. We rode for what seemed forever, and at some point turned off the road onto a dirt one. After another long time, the car stopped. Milton and Bill got out and opened the door and dragged me out, and with the hood still on, I stumbled between them into a building.

They lifted me onto a table and I felt myself being strapped down. I couldn't move. Suddenly the hood was removed, and I blinked against the sudden light.

"You'd better watch it," I said. "I've been on all sorts of marches. I've thrown bricks through all sorts of windows. Why, once I didn't even yell, 'I am nonviolent!'" before I threw a brick through the window of a Korean grocery store. I just wish that the old Koreans who owned it had been there to hear me yell, 'I am nonviolent!' before I put a brick through their window.

"I'm a Numbnuts Progressive, boys, and you'd better watch it!"

"Shut up, pussyboy. You're going to get reparative therapy."

And with that Bill asked Milton, "Are you ready?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. Don't get spooked. Remember the last time that we did this. It wasn't pretty."

"Okay. Let's go." Then Milton looked at me and started to say, quietly but firmly,

"1 and 1 are 2. 1 and 2 are 3. 1 and 3 are 4..."

I started squirming and screamed, "Stop it! Stop it! This is cruel and unusual punishment! The Geneva Convention prohibits..."

Bill put his hand over my mouth as Milton continued. "1 and 4 are 5."

I started squirming harder and my eyes bugged out. Bill said, "I think he's ready for the hard stuff, Milton. Try it."

"Okay." Milton looked at me and said, firmly and quietly: "2 times 2 are 4. 3 times 3 are 9. 4 times 4 are 16..."

That was it. The pressure got to me. I screamed, "No! No! No! I refuse to listen to logic. I am a Made Progressive! Don't you get it? It's my will, all the time. Ask Barry O. He'll tell you how that goes. We don't think! We just demand! I don't have to pay attention to reality, because someone else will do it for me! I'm a Made Progressive! Someone else cleans up the mess and picks up the pieces. Because I'm a Progressive! I don't think! I calculate and scheme and lie but I don't think! I just want and whine and demand!"

With the superprog strength that I have as an upper-level Made Progressive, I snapped the bonds on my wrists and undid my ankles. Milton and Bill were terrified and fell back against the wall.

"Torture me with logic, will you?" I sneered. I know how to handle you. Why, none of my friends has ever bothered with logic, and we're all the better for it. I'll show you what to do, you damned... damned... damned...Rethuglicans."

With that I projectile vomited green sick all over both of them, and while they were cleaning it out of their eyes, I ran out, shouting, "One trillion and one trillion is one hundred billion, you sick dumbasses. Because I say it is."

They had left the keys in the car and I got in and roared away.

It's a miracle that I'm with you today, having survived an attack of the Logic Nazis.

Comrade Theocritus,

You poor thing! That was horrific! Really, I know you escaped, but you did suffer an injury, a kind of head wound, you know. You must take care to make sure you are completely healed.

First, go online, and download pictures of Comrade Nanski, Comrade Boxer, Comrade Gawdawfulo, Miss Resentment, the Many Titted Empress and anyone else you admire, including Jodin Morey, of course, and make a collage of the photos. This will comfort you.

And, don't forget you can go to YouTube, and listen to Jodin Morey's theraputic lectures. The idea is to fuse, to focus, to meditate, on his words, his visage, his movements. Once you do this, you will feel much better, and those pesky numbers they were trying to instill in your head will vanish.

In the meantime, get yourself some Jane Fonda Wrinkle Cream and pamper yourself all over with it.

Comrade Theocritus,

This is terrible that such a thing could happen to an esteemed personage such as yourself. I am so happy that you were able to escape. Sometimes a little workout at the local gym and then a light snack can aid in one's recovery.

Comrades, I am still shaking from my near escape. After I returned to the Rancho I had this horrible urge to, and don't shun me, <i>balance my checkbook</i>. Before this episode I'd never have done that. I'd just have spent what I wanted and sent the bill to someone else.

But, and this is horrifying, do you think that this reparative therapy is affecting me?

It's time for a double session at Jiffi-Lobo. And I need at least two more tin-foil hats.

It's all right Kind and Fearless leader calm yourself:

We are on the case attempting to locate these horrible thugs. Rooster get over and "Peck" over the SUV, Leninka run the plates get us a name. (Don't use Ohio, you'll get caught).

I suspect Pupovich paid these reprobates, I know we have no evidence, but I am a made Progressive, I do not need evidence.

I am sending my Goons Highly trained Troopers to beat everyone who drives an SUV just to be safe.


Commissar Red Star CEO Hemlock Hospitality ä INC
Director of Kicking Doors at Midnight
Keeper of the sacred Plasma Cutter
Herdsman of Rainbow Farting Unicorns
Defender of the Faith

Dear Lenin in Paradise! Commissar, I am shocked to hear of this shameless attack on your person by these...these... filthy Realists! Of course the first thing that came to my mind was that this was sponsored by Rethuglicans. But then I considered their weak choice of choosing McCain in the last election not to mention such other Rethuglican names such as Olympia Snow etc. that proved they are not as committed to reality as some claim. No Commissar, I believe you may have been attacked by the most vicious and dangerous group of all....by a Conservative! There is no more dangerous animal to a true progressive such as you and I, than a Conservative! Sure, some can be found under the name of a rethuglican, but they also come under the name of "Constitutionalists" and even blatantly admit they are "Conservative."

Thank Lenin you survived!

Yes, I did survive but the sessions at Jiffi-Lobo have left me incontinent. I live in trembling fear of a logic attack. I phoned dear Jodin Morey and told him of it and he started yapping so loudly that I feared for his sanity. Well, I gave up on his sanity a long time ago. I feared for his heart. Well, he doesn't have a heart, but I feared for, er, something and I get points for fearing for something.

I could hear him pissing himself on the telephone.

Comrade, how on earth did you survive such horrific racist torture? Just reading about its horrors here on the Cube caused me to fall unconscious for several hours. To think, some thoughtcriminals actually use logic and reason instead of hope and change is too unimaginably horrible for a prog like me to think about.

I'm just now able to hold a cup of coffee with both hands, and I have to use a sippy-cup. In face Bruno has been typing for me. The Rethuglicans Milton and Bill told me that they had by mistake kidnapped Bruno but when they found that he couldn't take his eyes off a shiny piece of glass that brainwashing him was useless, and they let him go. But for all the typos, blame Bruno.

To quote comrade Jon Stewart "I suppose objectivism works...for some people."

Red Star wrote:It's all right Kind and Fearless leader calm yourself:

We are on the case attempting to locate these horrible thugs. Rooster get over and "Peck" over the SUV, Leninka run the plates get us a name. (Don't use Ohio, you'll get caught).

I suspect Pupovich paid these reprobates, I know we have no evidence, but I am a made Progressive, I do not need evidence.

I am sending my Goons Highly trained Troopers to beat everyone who drives an SUV just to be safe.


Commissar Red Star CEO Hemlock Hospitality ä INC
Director of Kicking Doors at Midnight
Keeper of the sacred Plasma Cutter
Herdsman of Rainbow Farting Unicorns
Defender of the Faith

Comrade Red Star,

Per your instructions, I ran the plates and made a most interesting discovery. And it's very fishy. The license plate is from Louisiana. Could this be someone acquainted with Comrade Pupovich? Who knows?


So I Googled "Beck Girl" and found this:


Not to be confused with this:


This indicates to me that Comrade Theocritus was likely a specific target.

Leninka wrote:

Red Star wrote:
Comrade Red Star,

Per your instructions, I ran the plates and made a most interesting discovery. And it's very fishy. The license plate is from Louisiana. Could this be someone acquainted with Comrade Pupovich? Who knows?


So I Googled "Beck Girl" and found this:


Not to be confused with this:


This indicates to me that Comrade Theocritus was likely a specific target.

Yes this is an interesting development, good work
Leninka. Yes I saw the shameless bantering earlier on this page.

As if Marshal Pupovich knew nothing of this. Just like he knew nothing of the Carter nano rabbits.



Commissar Red Star CEO Hemlock Hospitality ä INC
Director of Kicking Doors at Midnight
Keeper of the sacred Plasma Cutter
Herdsman of Rainbow Farting Unicorns
Defender of the Faith

Comrades, Pupovich has a paw in everything. It's one of the things that I love about him--he's as unscrupulous as Meow. In a nice way.

How I look up to their perfect examples of being Made Progressives. No matter how I try, I just can't seem to keep up. I mean, I have 40 acres of impaling stakes. I stole the Rancho from an orphanage and pay for the upkeep by stealing social-security checks. I threaten people for my own gain, blackmail is no stranger to me, and once I didn't let Bruno drown when he was floundering in a rip tide dressed as Esther Williams.

I'll never live that last one down.

Red Star wrote:
As if Marshal Pupovich knew nothing of this. Just like he knew nothing of the Carter nano rabbits.

Are you kidding Comrade Red Star? Or just drunk?

I never claimed to know nothing about the Carter nano rabbits! I invented them! I am their proud creator! They are a poweful weapon for the Party, and thus For the Children™!! What I denied, quite rightly of course, is some of the outrageous claims that some have made impugning my work and their claims of certain unfortunate events that some have apparently experienced. I keep a close eye and records of the whereabouts and missions my Carter Nano-rabbits have undergone.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. And yet another window in my courtyard is a victim of one of your talent-shitting pigeons. Bruno is right now killing nano Jimmy Carter rabbits with a stiletto heel and Red Star's goons are going to deliver you a hundredweight of their festering corpses.

Commissar, I am sure you are mistaken.... or perhaps you chose to use your "discount special" at the Jiffi-Lobo? Haven't I warned you about trying to save OPM by cutting corners so to speak, when undergoing such critical adjustments? A brain is a terrible thing to waste Commissar.

I consider a brain to be a subversive thing, Marshal. Or haven't you learned that yet? Thinking is entirely verboten in the Collective. We only goose-step in conformity with the latest diktat that Laika beams down to our superheterodyne, phased-antenna-array, mu-metal tin-foil hats.

In fact the entire purpose of Jiffy-Lobo is to <i>save</i> people the duress of thinking.

Or how else would the Democrats win elections?

I will have to think about that Commissar.....

Dear Lenin! NO!!!!!! I refuse to think! Thank you Commissar for that timely warning.

Nika wrote:

I'll have the Shrimps fried by a squid.

Commissar Theocritus wrote:
With that they put a bag over my head and shoved me in the car.

Sorry to hear about this, Commissar. I hope the bag was stylish-like.

Red Rooster wrote:

Seriously, what is this chart? Is it some sort of secret realtors' code? I could understand if "s" and "f" were the factors (and "d" in the upper left corner) - then it would be a chart for mapping the various combinations of cursing available in leetspeak, but I'm rather mystified by this one.

- character back on -

Red Star wrote:It's all right Kind and Fearless leader calm yourself:

We are on the case attempting to locate these horrible thugs. Rooster get over and "Peck" over the SUV......

Pecked and Progged, Door Kicking Wonder. Many Leaches but not an Earth Worm in site....

Red Star, I think that if your SEIU goons highly trained troopers were given some red-painted jackhammers it might help with kicking in doors. After all, some doors are reinforced you know. But enough red-painted jackhammers.

With perhaps flashing to look like a rooster's beak... A JV between you and RR.

AbecedariusRex wrote: Seriously, what is this chart? Is it some sort of secret realtors' code? I could understand if "s" and "f" were the factors (and "d" in the upper left corner) - then it would be a chart for mapping the various combinations of cursing available in leetspeak, but I'm rather mystified by this one.

Comrade, do not feel alone, for I too find this confusing to say the least. I personally feel this is clearly some diagram designed by some "intellectual" type, and you know how I as a born and bred socialist feel about "intellectuals." My Uncle Iosef had similar misgivings on these people, and knew how to put them to use.

Sorry Comrades, I got that shiny graphic here:
http://web.bentley.edu/empl/c/ncarter/g ... gmult.html

Appears to be a thing for math peoples...<br>http://web.bentley.edu/empl/c/ncarter/ge-v1/

I DENOUNCE THAT SHINY GRAPHIC FOR SEDUCING ME INTO LOOKING AT IT!!!!

Ah group theory. And where is the ring theory? This is related to set theory, and let's never forget Bertrand Russell's "the set of all sets" which caused utter panic nearly a century ago, sending all the other mathematicians scuttling for the shadows.

We have the collective of all collectives, don't we? This implies that we all live together in socialist harmony, none more equal than others. But the collective of all the collectives. Doesn't that mean that the uber-collective is more equal than its constituent collectives?

We need a new number theory of socialism.