Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
In a stunning turn of events, the skies are filled with the wails and moans of top gun ace fighter jock pilots from the Air Force and Navy.
“Satanic Worshippers Cry Foul Over Ten Commandments: It’s Hard to Sin When God’s Rules Get in the Way!”
Today in Cloft’s Corner, Dave channels C.S. Lewis as he imagines Satan directing his demons in further devilment after a successful year.
In a stunning display of correlation-based crusading, a group of self-proclaimed “Karens” has emerged from the depths of suburbia, armed with their statistical prowess and signature haircuts.
Somewhere far above the planet, an unnamed adversary (or possibly a very angry solar flare with a sense of humor) popped off an EMP that politely but firmly unplugged every satellite we’d been leaning on since the late 20th century. GPS—born in the 1970s as a military system and later handed to civilians like candy—vanished in a blink. Along with it went the internet, streaming music, weather apps, and that calm, robotic voice that had spent decades telling Americans when to turn left.
With everything going on in the world, with all the wars, international conflicts, and high-stakes political maneuvers, I’m sure you’re all anxious to hear about what’s going on with the problem of legalized raccoon ownership in Tennessee.
I receive a lot of mail in the form of emails, letters, private messages, texts, Morse code, etc. It is impossible to answer all these messages, so I compiled some commonly asked questions
I’d say the biggest problem facing this country is typos. Typos are cropping up everywhere. In advertisements, in emails, and even within the very words your reading now. The main reason for this is your phone, which thinks it’s smarter than you.
Mike Misses Valentines Day Dinner and his attempt to talk his way out of it by pleading to a “lesser included offense,” somehow backfires.
Canned music. It’s everywhere. You cannot get away from it. It is always playing in public spaces. Grocery stores, hotel lobbies, airplanes, colonoscopy exam rooms.
In the summer of 2099, researchers developed a new groundbreaking drug. When ingested this new medication impaired one’s ability to judge others.
The email came in this morning. “Sean,” the message began. “You are a social media attention whore….” Great way to start the day.
President Trump announced today that in the spirit of not only international relations, but also interstellar amity, he has given U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, permission to accept the position of Interim Grand Nagus of the Ferengi Alliance.
I was a general’s aide-de-camp, which meant my actual job was not assisting, but intercepting stupidity before it reached flag rank. My boss lived in a world where things simply worked. Vehicles appeared complete. Schedules ran. Equipment existed. That didn’t happen by magic — it happened because several people quietly absorbed chaos so he never had to.
In light of all the negative headlines, civil unrest, and the international political upheavals, I know many of you are anxious to know what I did for National Kiss a Ginger Day. Or maybe you missed this particular holiday.
I need guidance on how to respond to these angry emailers. So, I turn to my dog, Marigold. Marigold is the most non-judgemental soul I know. I read emails aloud to her, then base my responses on her reactions.
Let’s face it—if you think water is safe, congratulations, you’re probably not living in the first century. Wells and cisterns looked innocent, but sip a cup and you might as well have been drinking a smoothie of bacteria, dirt, and whatever poor soul didn’t wash their hands yesterday. People back then didn’t know about germs—they just knew that gulping down that “clear” liquid was a roll of the dice with your intestines.
Remember the Yugo? That tiny, boxy, bargain-bin miracle that proudly declared, “Yes, I’m new, but no, I won’t last the winter”? For a brief, shining, oil-leaking moment in the mid-1980s, America fell in love with the world’s cheapest new car.
The Islamic State didn’t cruise into Mosul in Teslas. They rolled in behind a Toyota Hilux convoy that looked like a Jiffy Lube parade gone wrong — turbo-diesel workhorses loaded with heavy machine guns and rocket pods.
Wake up. Get dressed. Remove phone from nightstand charger, put phone in pocket. Your phone dings. The phone is already notifying you about your highly sophisticated security cameras, which have just picked up movement by the neighborhood cats.