Andromeda

Andy: Democracy, thank you for coming. Please have a seat and we can begin.

Democracy: Sorry. Can't. On the march.

Andy: Huh, what? I have to do the interview running alongside you?

Democracy: Yeh, of course. If I was willing to do a sit-down, don't you think I would have gone to someone popular and mousy-looking?

Andy: Giblets on Fafblog?

Democracy: I was thinking of Katie Couric, but him, too.

Andy: Nice boots. Are they --?

Democracy: Yeah, yeah, yeah, they're jack-boots -- I suppose you're going to warp and twist and warpy-twist that into something "significant"!

Andy: No, no, of course not. That would only apply to "thugs." So you can let go of my collar now, I'm choking.

Democracy: Oh, I didn't notice.

Andy: Could we march a little more slowly? Some of me is out of breath and all of me is fat!

Democracy: Sorry, can't slow down. IEDs, snipers, ....

Andy: So are you "on the march" or "on the run"?

Democracy: That's nuance. I don't do nuance.

Andy: Now, previously it was only freedom that was on the march. Now, it's democracy on the march, too. What up with that?

Democracy: Look, I signed up for a weekend a month! And I end up marching all over the place. My hitch ends, but they got this thing called stop loss. And let me tell you something about jackboots: they're good for standing in -- for about thirty seconds. I got corns on my blisters!

Andy: Whoa, whoa, whoa! I don't need to hear all this. I was told this was going to be a fluffy, optimistic, "Dr. Phil" style interview!

Democracy: Ya wanna know if I spank?

Andy: Again: whoa, whoa, whoa! I know it gets lonely, but I don't need to hear all the details. Just tell me this. Where are you going after you and Freedom get done marching all over Iraq?

IED Explodes.

Democracy: Get down, get down!

Andy: This is no time for dancing. Besides, I just wet my pants. From behind. I gotta go.

Certainly, congratulations are in order -- to the Iraqi people for holding their elections on Sunday to elect a National Assembly, which will draft a constitution. But it is equally certain, if perhaps less important, that the Bush Administration did an excellent job of lowering expectations: the President was able to declare the elections a "resounding success", even though nearly a hundred innocent people were killed or wounded in the process, and British and American troops died as well. And that with a near-total shut-down of civil liberties for a day. But democracy is on the march. Stomping down a street near you. Now, if they can draft a constitution, and hold another election, and train and man their army and police forces, and re-build their infrastructure, then our troops can finally leave. For Iran.

First, we wish to thank long-time reader first-time commenter Paris Hilton for her comments on the last entry. Second, we want to apologize to her personally for any wayward remarks concerning her that may have appeared in that entry or in the fake comment thereto. Third, we wish to remind all of our readers that such direct personal attacks on wealthy, attractive celebrities will not be tolerated here. But they are welcomed and encouraged at Wonkette, so visit that page frequently.

The previous entry, on how cute our Sun will be once it becomes a planetary nebula, was wholly inappropriate for a serious-minded blog like this. We were rightly called to task, in a comment by alert reader Wants2Know. In future, we will endeavor to restrict our entries to such important topics as the Social Security Crisis, what Paris Hilton thinks of the Social Security Crisis, what Paris Hilton thinks of the World Economic Forum in Davos, what she thinks of luxury ski resorts generally, what she thinks of Angelina Jolie, what she wears when thinking of Angelina Jolie, and so on.

Following up on yesterday's entry, we note that many readers write to Andromeda for fashion tips. True, most of this email was intended -- with the shiny-eyed optimism and clumsy-fingered typing skills that typify the fashion-conscious -- for the so-far non-existent androgyna.blogspot.com, but Andromeda will rise to the occasion, offering fashion insights, from a galactic point of view.

To begin with, from a galactic point of view, it's really hard to tell the difference between voile and toile à voile. Or between clothed and unclothed. Or even between a clothed and unclothed Central Park. In all honesty, from a galactic point of view, you really have to get to the nebula level to make a noticeable fashion statement.

It's easy to get lost in the crowd when you're a nebula, so choose something colorful. Hydrogen-red is always "in," but what's wrong with a little make-up to highlight your sulfur ions? Or try some intense ultra-violet radiation to achieve a multicolored glow! And it's not all about color — how about a pleasing hourglass figure?

Our nation owes a debt of gratitude to Lynne Cheney, who has exercised such a moderating influence on Dick Cheney, not on policy matters of course, but on fashion. We all remember well the time she persuaded him not to wear his "surfer dude" outfit to the 9-11 Commemoration. But, sad to say, she is not perfect:

Dick: I'm going to wear my new parka!

Lynne: No, you're not. You're going to Auschwitz -- you will wear a suit and tie with your nice topcoat.

Dick: But Maw-aw-aw-awm!

Lynne: Don't you "but mom" me, mister. No more discussion!

Dick: Why get somethin' for Christmas if I can't ever wear it an' I always have to wear that stupid topcoat?

Lynne: What did I just say?

Dick (mumbling): No more discussion.

Lynne: And what does that mean?

Dick: No more discussion. (whispers) I'll discuss what I want, I'm the vice president, and that parka if you put the hood up, you're in a fur-rimmed tunnel and I --

Lynne: What was that?

Dick: Nothing. (whispers) Stupid topcoat.

Later:

Lynne: Get down here, you have to leave for Andrews!

Dick comes downstairs carrying a Juicy-Juice. He pretends to stumble, squirts Juicy-Juice all over his top coat.

Dick: Oh, no! It's ruined! What are we gonna do?

You gotta admit, this galaxy is pretty boring. Even the recent news that the black hole at the center of our galaxy may possibly, some day, become active again, and shower us with gamma-ray radiation, there's just no getting around the fact that it's just a regular old spiral galaxy, that the black hole at the center is only the size of 2.6 million suns, while the black hole at the center of Andromeda is 30 million suns, plus it's "anomalously cool." I can't wait til Andromeda gets here and we become a binary-blackhole galaxy. Like that snooty NGC 6240.

Here at Andromeda, we love all animals, especially cute, cuddly doggies! With their glowing red eyes and surgically replaced stainless steel teeth and their lovable growling, barking and biting, they are exactly what we need to make your average traffic stop more comfortable and relaxing. On January 24, 2005, in Illinois v. Caballes (pdf), the United States Supreme Court approved the use of drug-sniffing, bomb-sniffing, crotch-snuffling, dogs at ordinary traffic stops and anything found during cavity searches resulting from their random "alerts" (i.e., pointing, sitting, scratching themselves) can and will be used against you in a court of law.

Justice Souter points out in his dissent that dogs have a "false positive" error percentage of between 12.5% and 60%, depending on how long the search lasts. This means at least a 1-in-8 chance of a search even if you're innocent.

It is believed by some (pdf) that our Sun is a youngster -- a billion years younger than your average sun in the Milky Way:

"We find that ~75% of the stars that harbor complex life in the Galaxy are older than the Sun, and that the average age is ~ 1 Gy older than the Sun."

This raises several questions:

1. Does this mean there are civilizations a billion years more advanced than ours?

2. And, if so, since our top scientists managed to develop our own civilization from "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" to "Queer Eye for the Straight Girl" in little more than just ONE year, isn't it a fair extrapolation over a BILLION years to conclude these aliens have recently solved their own Social Security Crisis?

3. So would these aliens be willing to help us solve our Crisis?

4. In other words, would these aliens be willing work on our planet, and pay into our Social Security system to fund human retirements?

5. Isn't waiting for the aliens a more realistic solution to this awful, awful crisis than private accounts?

The problem is, if there's no problem, then there's no need for private accounts.

"Over the objections of many of its own employees, the Social Security Administration is gearing up for a major effort to publicize the financial problems of Social Security and to convince the public that private accounts are needed as part of any solution."

But fake solutions demand fake problems.

We need to get ready in case the Sun expands beyond Earth's orbit, and that means finding other planets to move to. This postcard from 225 light years away shows a candidate. Or it could be Yeti. The photo's a little blurry.

I did not see the Fox show "24" when it first became popular, but I did happen to watch the first four hours (four hours! with so little life left?) on Sunday and Monday. It was very exciting with many twists and turns and twisty turns. Okay, here's the plot spoiler: it's misognynist and racist. No, wait, that's not the plot spoiler, this is: it's stupid.

Here's the scene. The Secretary of Defense has been kidnapped, along with his daughter. She is a hard-edged career woman, who completely breaks down under pressure. (Women!) The actress playing her has really found that "I am so scared my facial muscles are no longer under my control but are being operated by evil monster clowns" place that so few actors can find. The SecDef turns to his daughter and says, "No matter what they do to me, I want you to cooperate with them, even if they kill me, I want you to do whatever they say."

Now, here's what was supposed to happen: daughter turns to father and says, "No matter what they do to me, I don't want you to give them anything." But that would show a woman in a heroic role and, clearly, THAT'S not going to happen.

Or the father could have told her NOT to cooperate no matter what they do to him. Isn't she expected to protect national security as much as any man is? But telling her to divulge launch codes, secret entrances to the White House, the location of the alien craft that landed at Roswell, etc., "no matter what they do to him," makes no sense.

They did the old "my cellmate is really sick -- really -- you should come in here alone and look at him" and it worked like a charm cause terrorists are so stupid and have never watched Gilligan's Island, not since the fatwa against Bob Denver, anyway.

Here's a more realistic scenario:

Don Rumsfeld, squinting at his daughter: "Look, I can take pain, so let's forget about that. Here's what we're gonna do -- "

Rumsfeld's daughter, squinting at her father through her matching wireframes: "Pop, we just need a way for me to kill you, I could do it with my bare hands, but that's slow and they might stop me, -- "

Don Rumsfeld, with his Cheshire-cat grin: "No, sweetheart, we've got to be sure you die, too, -- "

Daughter: "Look, do you THINK I want to kill you? Heavens to Betsy, no! But am I gonna let them get at what's in your head? Mercy, I hope not! Now, do I think they could get information from me? Lordy, no! But am I gonna take that chance? You bet your boots I won't!"

Both found dead, intricate belt-tying wraps around their throats so the body weight of each chokes the other. Ashton Kutcher runs in with "Punk'd!" camera crew. Oops.

On this blog, we take the long view. Accordingly, we appreciate the Social Security trustees violating recognized actuarial practices (via Prairie Weather) and projecting the system's solvency until infinity. But have these far-sighted trustees taken into account the fact that workers contributing on the day before Andromeda hits will never retire? Pay-as-you-go seems a lot more sensible in light of the looming collision.

With so little time remaining, we need to order our affairs. Let us begin with the most serious, the most pressing, problem. In the United States, that is, of course -- no, not the budget deficit -- no, not unemployment -- no, not the health care crisis -- no, not the destruction of the environment -- no, not the growing gap between rich and poor -- no, it's social security and its alarming lack of private accounts.

With these private accounts, millions of workers will be able to give two-thirds of their Social Security contribution to stock brokers who will take a good commission in exchange for guaranteed Enron-or-better returns. Changing to a sink-or-swim, on-your-own, do-it-yourself system will involve some minor transition costs, perhaps one or two trillion dollars.

This change has the advantage of reducing the current post-2080 unfunded liability by reducing the protection Social Security provided and leaving it up to individuals to take of their own retirements.

For those of you who thought, if we all just lean to the right, we might just squeeze by Andromeda, guess what? Our Sun becomes a Red Giant in about five billion years -- perhaps burning up the Earth. Will Andromeda destroy us first?

Andromeda Galaxy is headed straight for you -- at 300,000 mph! Your time is running out.