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Issue #65

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Features:

HThe Disaster is 20 Years Young! - Matt Taibbi

Sleeping With the Fishes: Fear Not, Buffalo--Corporate Welfare Will Save You! - Chris Abbey

No Moore Dissent: DLC Targets Populism, Man-Boobs- Matt Taibbi

Drowning the Scorpion: Debating a Neocon- Stan Goff

Condoleezza Rice is Going to Lick Your Beaver- Matt Taibbi


Faux-tures:

Bush Refuses to Pardon Turkey, Execution Proceeds as Scheduled

Kmart, Sears Merge to Create One Big Failure - Josh Righter



Departments:

Buffalo in Briefs

BEAST-O-Scopes

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters

The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten




Entertainment:

Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Music Reviews :

Arcade Fire

MF Doom - Ketchup Samurai

BEASTIVITIES

Sports:

Wide Right: Bills Still Have a Shot at 5th Super Bowl Loss - Ronnie Roscoe



Comix:

I Witless News - I. Gonzalez

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob the Angry Flower - Stephen Notley





Issue #64

Download Entire issue (31mb PDF)

 

Features:

Happy Bhopal to You: The Disaster is 20 Years Young! - Matt Taibbi

Sleeping With the Fishes: Fear Not, Buffalo--Corporate Welfare Will Save You! - Chris Abbey

No Moore Dissent: DLC Targets Populism, Man-Boobs- Matt Taibbi

Drowning the Scorpion: Debating a Neocon- Stan Goff

Condoleezza Rice is Going to Lick Your Beaver- Matt Taibbi


Faux-tures:

Bush Refuses to Pardon Turkey, Execution Proceeds as Scheduled

Kmart, Sears Merge to Create One Big Failure - Josh Righter



Departments:

Buffalo in Briefs

BEAST-O-Scopes

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters

The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten




Entertainment:

Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Music Reviews :

Arcade Fire

MF Doom - Ketchup Samurai

BEASTIVITIES

Sports:

Wide Right: Bills Still Have a Shot at 5th Super Bowl Loss - Ronnie Roscoe



Comix:

I Witless News - I. Gonzalez

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob the Angry Flower - Stephen Notley





Issue #63

Download Entire issue (18mb PDF)

Features:

Top Ten Hacks of 2004 Election - Matt Taibbi

MEMRI Problems: Was Kerry's Election Bid Lost in Translation?- Chris Riordan

Pick of the Litter: Bottom-Feeding all the Way to the Top

Redwoods Evil, Must Be Destroyed: Bush Wants Some Wood- Kit Smith

Too Cool for School: City Honors Censorship - Al Uthman

Tortures - R - Us - Christopher Lord


Faux-tures:

New Hotel on Baltic Ave: Boon or Burden? - Ian Murphy

10 Tips For Coping with your Dysfunctional Family this Thanksgiving

A Word From Our Sponsors



Departments:

Buffalo in Briefs

BEAST-O-Scopes

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters

The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten




Entertainment:

Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Music Reviews :

Matchbook Romance/Midtown Show - Chris Meister

Goo Goo Dolls DVD - Seamus Gallivan

Elliot Smith CD- Michael Gildea

Odd Couple CD - Ketchup Samurai

BEASTIVITIES

Sports:

Wide Right: Bills could Make Playoffs--in the NFC - Ronnie Roscoe



Comix:

Beast Comix - Ian Murphy

I Witless News - I. Gonzalez

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob the Angry Flower - Stephen Notley







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© 2004 The Beast

Condoleezza Rice Is Going to Lick Your Beaver

By Matt Taibbi

I love Brahms because Brahms is actually structured. And he's passionate without being sentimental. I don't like sentimental music, so I tend not to like Liszt, and I don't actually much care for the Russian romantics Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff, where it's all on the sleeve. With Brahms it's restrained, and there's a sense of tension that never resolves.

—Condoleezza Rice

I STARED AT THAT quote for about five hours last week, sure that there was a column in it somewhere. For an embarrassingly long time I just drew a blank, pacing back and forth, procrastinating. But then, just before midnight last Friday, I was sure I had it—the opening line, anyway. So I threw it on the page and then raced downstairs to restock my work area with caffeinated beverages.

I have two bodegas on my corner. One is staffed by smiling, reticent Chinese ladies in their late thirties who always act like they've never seen me before, even though I'm in there five times a day. The other is darker, has flickering lights, and is run by two Lebanese men—one a gigantic mute who makes stinky sandwiches, the other a profane midget comedian with a pencil moustache who handles the register and has something astonishing to say every time you go in.

I always—always—choose the Chinese ladies. I wouldn't trust them not to bludgeon and eat me in a lifeboat situation, but they're non-judgmental about my shopping decisions. However, they close earlier than Team Lebanon. Whenever I'm in a late-night professional panic, the Chinese ladies are always already gone, and I'm forced into the leering place with the flickering lights.

So last week I rushed in there and grabbed a bunch of sodas. Put them on the counter. Leering Moustache looked up at me and smiled.

"Friday night," he said. "Gotta get some ass."

I frowned. "Excuse me?" I said.

"Friday night, man," he said. "Gotta get ass. It ain't Friday night if you're not getting ass. You getting some ass, big man?"

"No," I said. "I'm working."

"That's bullshit," he said. "Working on Friday night. Your boss is full of some shit, man."

"It's not his fault," I said. "I could have been finished. But I just sat on my ass all day long because I couldn't think of how to start. I'm like a writer. Writers don't get ass. They get reactions."

He shook his head. "You'd be better off cutting that shit out and just getting some ass," he said. He looked at my two 20-ounce Diet Cokes. "That's $2.93, man."

I ignored him and just stood there with my hands on my hips. "You want to hear what I'm writing? What I'm writing right now?"

He laughed, looked up at me with dread, then turned down the sandwich counter. "I don't know," he said. "Hey, Rami!" he called out. "Do I want to hear what this guy's writing?"

Rami said nothing.

Register man turned back to me and sighed. "Okay," he said. "Tell me what you're writing."

"Okay," I said, smiling. "It's an article. It's called 'Condoleezza Rice Is Going to Lick Your Beaver.'" I pointed at him, then folded my arms. "You see? It's about how Condoleezza Rice is going to lick your beaver."

He glared at me. "I don't have no beaver, man."

"Whatever you say," I said. Then I pulled out my wallet. "You said $2.93?"

"Yeah," he said.

I pulled the money out and gave it to him. He rang up. I reached for the bag.

"Hey, wait," he said.

"Yeah?" I said, stopping.

"Why you wanna say that Condoleezza Rice is going to lick my beaver, dude? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I gave him the warm smile. "Not your beaver," I said. Then I waved a hand in all directions, indicating the whole canvas of existence. "Your beaver. The universal beaver. Like if you were a woman and you had a beaver, that beaver. All these years, she's been wanting to lick your beaver. And now she's going to get her chance, because she's going to be secretary of state. Now she's going to lick everybody's beaver. She's going to start in Japan and work her way west. She's been holding back all these years, but now she's got four years, and no one's going to stop her. She's going to go absolutely fucking crazy!"

Register Man stared at me, wide-eyed. "Hey, Rami," he said, not taking his eyes off me. "Get a load of this guy, man."

"You know what the title of her first book was?" I asked. "Do you?"

He laughed. "No," he said, resigned. "No, I don't. What was it?"

"It was called The Soviet Union and the Czechoslovak Army, 1948-1983: Uncertain Alliance," I said. "Three hundred and three pages. Princeton University Press. Princeton University Press! You see what I'm getting at?"

"No," he said.

"Look," I said. "On the surface, this book is about the relationship of the Soviet army to the armies of the communist satellites. It's what you call a 'nuanced analysis,' showing that it like wasn't this big monolithic bloc but a bunch of fragile relationships." I shook my head. "But actually it wasn't about that at all. The whole thing—every single page—was about eating pussy."

He frowned at me. "So what's your point?" he asked.

"Well," I admitted, "I hadn't gotten that far yet."

"You trying to say that that Rice lady is a lesbian, right? What, are you prejudiced?"

"Well, no..." I said. "You see, it's sort of a joke... I'm trying to say something about..."

"About what?" he said.

I frowned. "Look, at the end of the article, I'm going to have her walking up a red carpet to the APEC conference in Santiago, and she's flanked by like 50 Secret Service guys, all serious and looking in all directions, and she's singing 'Sugar Walls.' That, interspersed with images of these F-117s screaming over some Arabian desert on the other side of the world, dropping shitloads of ordnance, huge explosions everywhere, bodies sizzling, and you just hear her voice: Temperatures rise inside my sugar walls... You remember that song? The Sheena Easton song?"

"Shit," he said. "Sheena Easton. I remember her."

"And you remember who wrote 'Sugar Walls'?" I said.

Suddenly a voice shot out from behind the sandwich counter.

"Prince," said Rami. I didn't know he talked until then.

"That's right!" I said. "Prince! You get it now?"

"Not really," said Register Man. "If she's in Santiago and surrounded by all these guys, when does she lick my beaver?"

"Oh, that's easy," I replied. "She's always licking your beaver."

"When did she start licking my beaver?" he asked.

"Last week," I said. "As soon as they got rid of Colin Powell."

"What did Colin Powell have to do with it?"

I sighed. "Colin Powell didn't accomplish much as secretary of state, but no one was licking anyone's beaver on his watch. That was one line he just wouldn't cross. He as much as announced it every time he went out in public. Every time Condi went on Meet the Press and said something about the United States being 100 percent committed to licking your beaver, he'd be on the phone with Bob Woodward two hours later saying exactly the opposite. That's why they fired him."

"So she can lick my beaver," he said. "Right, boss. Okay."

"She's earned the right," I protested. "She was loyal."

He said nothing and stared at me. I grabbed my Cokes and headed toward the door. "Well, good night," I said.

He nodded. "Have a good one."



 

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Sleeping With the Fishes

Chris Abbey

What do dying urban centers need to keep them afloat when everything and everyone has long since moved out to the suburbs? A gimmick, of course, like the Arch in St. Louis or, even cooler, a Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of fame like Cleveland has! Too bad those ideas were already taken, and the only thing our leaders could think of is resurrecting the long dead Aud and turning it into a massive Bass Pro outdoor shop, along with a hotel and restaurant.


Happy Bhopal to You

Matt Taibbi

THE BHOPAL DISASTER had its 20th anniversary last week, and so was duly (and briefly) commemorated in the inside sections of a few American newspapers.

It is unlikely, however, that any public figures are going to pay tribute to what happened 20 years ago this week. Which is too bad, because as far as America is concerned, the week of Dec. 9 to 16 was the more important week of the Bhopal disaster. That's when we got over Bhopal.


Drowning the Scorpion

Stan Goff

When I was first invited by Dr. Stephen Smith to speak at Winthrop University in South Carolina, I was preparing a trip to Haiti and I didn't give much thought to how I would handle the engagement. I'd just finished being pole-axed by a bout of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and it was everything I could do to just pull the Haiti trip together. So I didn't pay much attention to the person who would appear with me - one Patrick Clawson - to represent "the other side" in a forum/debate billed as "What Next in Iraq? A Post-Election Perspective."


[sic]

Seeing your last rag/magazine complaining about the last Presidential elections made me laugh. You commies have nothing better to do but insult our President, our country and our troops. You all should go back and help your fellows brothers in the Ukraine, where there really was a corrupted and stolen election.


The Top 10 Hacks of the 2004 Election

Matt Taibbi

10 - GEORGE WILL, NEWSWEEK: Will uses big words and pompous literary references to dress up what are basically the brutish and vulgar thinking patterns of a non-union meat-packing plant owner. He is a pig in a lace hat.


MEMRI Problems

Chris Riordan

Stranded from intellect and worthwhile rhetoric in Utica, NY for the last few months, I have made a habit of visiting political discussion boards online for a dose of informed bantering and arguing. I tend to gravitate towards conservative cyber communities because I generally prefer arguing to agreeing.


Pick of the Litter

Pat Ragpicker

It's 4am on a winter night, and I'm parked on a dead end street near Kaisertown. It’s a secluded corner of the city I found by driving around aimlessly. I'm new to town, and penniless after buying my van with $700 I squirreled away the last time I got a paycheck. That was 7 months ago. Over those months, I managed to live off a few hundred bucks while sleeping in a warehouse closet and helping some friends make a TV show to try selling to a network.


Redwoods Evil, Must be Destroyed

Kit Smith

Nature is a bad and inconvenient thing. It must be stopped. That's why so many of us environmental scientists voted for Bush. He recognizes that endangered species are tasty, that Yellowstone is the most awesome place for snowmobiling in the whole world, and that those horrible California Redwoods are home to Satan himself.


Too Cool for School

Al Uthman

In the decomposing cesspool of Buffalo's public schools, City Honors has long been regarded as something of a gem. In fact, it is widely regarded as the best school the city has to offer, with the brightest kids around.


Tortures-R-Us

Christopher Lord

Iraqis wondering what the next phase of the Republicans' invasion of their country will bring should consider El Aguacate airstrip in Honduras. In 2001, 185 bodies were dug up there: the victims were the 'terrorists' and 'enemies of democracy' of the day.




O Buffalo

Al Uthman

It's time to face some unpleasant facts, Buffalo. This country may not be the best place for us anymore. On November 2nd, we all bore witness to a terrible turning point in our history; a bad lifestyle choice, if you will. We had the chance to reject the increasing madness of our nation's leadership, their blind march to pointless war and craven desire to take advantage of us in every manner conceivable, and we blew it. America has spoken, and it said "duh."


Love or 4-Hour Erections

Matt Taibbi

...If history is any guide, the DLC will spend the next four years trying to find a pious bomb-thrower to put up as the nominee- unless, of course, the poll numbers in a few years' time show that Barack Obama is good-looking, black and charming enough to get the party over the hump using the same basic playbook that worked so swimmingly this time.


10 Ultra-cynical Ways to Beat the Republicans

Why did the Democrats lose? At least in part, it's because they thought that being right would actually work in their favor. Let's face it, logic doesn't mean squat in politics. People say there's too much cynicism in politics today, but we think there really isn't enough. Cynicism works. The Republican Party has embraced it, and it has worked wonders for them. The Democrats have made some progress in this area, but they are still lagging badly. If there's any hope for the blue states, they must learn the lessons of Machiavelli and Rove. To help them along, the BEAST offers these suggestions.