Gee, Officer, I knew she was a hooker but I had no idea she was only 14. Such is the plausibility of Barry Bond’s lame excuse that he took steroids without realizing it. By way of contrast, Yankees slugger Jason Giambi acknowledged his performance-enhancing praxis before a not-so-secret grand jury. Marred by a series of earlier denials, the media still embraced this mea culpa though it required none of the brass displayed during former MVP Ken Caminiti’s more public disclosure.

Under oath, Giambi affirmed Assistant U.S. Attorney Jeffrey Nedrow’s assertion that Bonds’ personal trainer had indeed supplied injectable testosterone. “So you would put it in your arm?” Nedrow followed. “No, you wouldn’t,” replied Giambi, “You’d put it in your ass.” Unfortunately, the 41-year-old Caminiti is taking a dirt nap and remains unavailable for comment. As for Giambi, various injuries over the last three years and recent disclosure of a pituitary tumor make it seem as if Lyle Alzado himself reached up from the grave and shoved a needle right into the rear end of Giambi’s $120 million contract. Which the Yankees are now trying to void. Because 94 homers over three seasons just isn’t what it used to be. Not with every 160-pound shortstop routinely going yard 20 times a year.

Bud Selig or not, your history of snorting crack, genital warts, and with various other medical oddities could soon be accessed by anyone scanning a computer chip implanted under your skin. Over a million pets already carry the microchips and the Food and Drug Administration, noting an unassailable record of safety, has just approved them for human use. On the other hand, according to Dr. David Graham, an FDA stamp of approval doesn’t mean shit. Graham, an Associate Director with the Office of Drug Safety, sat before a Senate committee investigating the Vioxx debacle and testified that the agency is “incapable of protecting America against another” such incident. He went on to list five other pernicious drugs currently on the market, including the acne remedy Accutane. Roche’s zit medicine has enjoyed a long and troubled history, producing along the way such worrisome contraindications as birth defects, gastrointestinal disease, psychiatric illness and suicide. One of Roche’s own doctors argued that these dangers clearly warranted inclusion in the drug’s U.S. label. Unfortunately, he was summarily overruled by higher-ups in the marketing department who feared an adverse impact on sales and pushed to list only loss of unwanted body fat and episodes of steady erections as possible side effects.

Dr. Graham doesn’t necessarily condemn us to a government completely devoid of faculty; it is, to the contrary, all set to import 4 million doses of “experimental” flu vaccine from Germany for patients willing to sign a consent form. Health officials were trying to secure 1.2 million doses of the good stuff from Toronto, but after Bush’s negative remarks on re-importation, the Canadians said any remaining supplies would be saved for their domestic market. In other words, “Go fuck yourselves, eh.” Predictably, HHS Secretary Tommy Thompson isn’t sticking around for the next crisis. While Thompson’s magnificent ineptness couldn’t match that of “duct tape” Tom Ridge, he leaves us with a dearth of smallpox vaccines and full retail pricing under the Medicare drug bill. Thompson became the eighth cabinet member to bail out before the pending WMD attack on Washington when he announced “While these years have been challenging… it’s time for me and my family to move on to the next chapter in our life.” Which, hopefully, involves little more than scrubbing rest stop toilets on the Jersey Turnpike.

While all this drug talk has awakened my urge to rescue the bong from the back of the hall closet, I’m gonna hold off until the Supreme Court rules on state laws approving the medical use of marijuana. As it stands, even in the 11 states with such statutes on the books, the feds still think they can kick down my door and drag me to Guantanamo. We’ll see about that. Esoteric debates surrounding interstate commerce and the limits of federal power will, in the end, be wantonly ignored by any closet Deadheads on the bench.

Word is that Chief Justice Rehnquist is burning through four baggies of Oaxacan a week during chemo, while Justice Breyer’s commentary betrays years of habitual use. During Scalia’s argument that the federal government already restricts possession of illegal items such as ivory tusks, Bryer violently jabbed the air with his finger and blurted out, “You know, he grows heroin, cocaine… tomatoes that are going to have genomes in them that could, at some point, lead to tomato children.” Now I’ve seen tomato children only three times in my life and though I freely admit the most recent was at a kindergarten Thanksgiving recital, the first two were undoubtedly during a Rainbow gathering in Paonia.

A recent New York Times article lamented the declining availability of VBAC (vaginal birth after Caesarean) deliveries in American hospitals. These procedures occur only a third as often as a decade ago, though most women prefer “natural” delivery because it promises less pain, quicker recovery, and a 12-month excuse to stop banging their husbands. The increased risk of hemorrhage during labor, however, has prompted over 300 facilities to take VBAC off the menu despite President Bush’s call for OB-GYNs to freely “practice their love with women all across this country.” “My intuitive feeling is, it’s going to be harder and harder to find places that offer it, because of the known risk and the medical legal climate we live in,” offered Dr. Gerrit Schipper. Other medical officials fear that women rebelling against what is seen as a loss of reproductive rights will ply our nation’s back alleys looking for VBAC practitioners wielding shots of whiskey and rusty coat hangers.

Not if Arlen Specter can help it. Specter vowed to block any federal judges intent on overturning Roe v. Wade, but was sadly forced into political castration as a precursor to obtaining the coveted chairmanship of the Senate Judiciary Committee. In a published memo orchestrated by majority leader Bill Frist, the Pennsylvania Republican has effectively pledged to hunker down on all fours, toss W’s salad and dutifully swallow whatever lumps come down the pike.

But before you shed any tears consider that the Big A, as he is known up in Hershey, is merely the first of millions to be gelded by our neo Puritanical zeitgeist. Because if we learned anything from our quadrennial election it is that most citizens remain blithely unconcerned with the prospect of losing their jobs or having their kids school blown up by terrorists. Evidence that John and Jane Red-State remain singularly focused on moral values surrounds us, from the 11 states (including left-leaning Oregon) that banned gay marriage to the increased congressional seats nabbed by conservative Republicans. And even though the Supreme Court refused to hear a case challenging same sex matrimony in Massachusetts, the impact of Washington’s newfound role as a puppet of the religious right is palpable. Today, for example, Tom Delay can stay on as House leader well after his impending indictment.

But what does any of this mean for those of us who aren’t felons or lesbians seeking abortions? It means despite paying hefty cable bills, we can haplessly stand by as the government winnows our television programming to “The O’Reilly Factor,” “Barney,” and reruns of “Mama’s Family.” After Fox was fined $1.2 million for a tawdry reality show (of the 90 complaints filed with the FCC, 88 were identical copies), 20 ABC affiliates pulled “Saving Private Ryan” from the air even though the movie was twice broadcast previously with out incident. The alphabet network went all weak-kneed under the deafening criticism of their “Desperate Housewives” promo on “Monday Night Football” in which a nude Nicolette Sheridan leapt into the arms of Eagle’s wide receiver Terrell Owens. Indianapolis Colts coach Tony Dungy felt the vitriol was fueled by unspoken racial animus – Owens is Black while Sheridan is not – though many media observers were hard pressed to differentiate the skit’s tenor from that of every other football broadcast where sexually suggestive beer ads and erectile dysfunction commercials are punctuated by close ups of cheerleaders and their voluminous cleavage.

We are not yet burning witches at the stake, but give it time. Pharmacists are now refusing to fill birth control prescriptions on religious grounds. Some go so far as to argue that hormonal contraceptives are capable of causing an abortion. “I refuse to dispense a drug with a significant mechanism to stop human life,” declaims Karen Brauer, president of the 1,500-member Pharmacists for Life International. I guess that would rule out insulin, Cox-2 inhibitors, barbiturates and any anything re-imported from Canada. Shockingly, a dozen states are currently moving to protect such obduracy. In Mississippi, a new law absolves health care providers, including pharmacists, who spurn procedures that go against their conscience. You know, like dispensing cancer medication to Catholics or performing CPR on Negroes.

Tens of thousand of protesters filled the streets of Kiev protesting the results of a fiercely contested presidential election. Hard line candidate Viktor Yanukovych was handed a razor-thin victory over his more Western challenger despite what poll observers described as multiple voting and inflated turnout figures in Yanukovych’s stronghold districts. Several independent exit polls, moreover, showed the challenger, Viktor Yushchenko, to have clearly won. The European Union called for a recount while the Bush administration asserted its own position: “The United States is deeply concerned by extensive and credible indications of fraud committed in the Ukrainian presidential election.” And they would certainly know.

After Russian President Vladimir Putin swiftly rebuked the United States for our “unprecedented interference,” I was left to wonder how we would fare diplomatically once Condoleezza Rice takes over for Colin Powell. Because she has already made her first mistake – removing the animus for international sympathy over her “bleeding and discomfort.” Not that she deserved any compassion after the tremendous “bleeding and discomfort” unleashed by the attacks of 9/11. Condi, you will recall was privy to a CIA briefing document dated August 6, 2001 where details regarding Bin Laden’s plan were neatly mapped out save only the actual flight numbers and addresses of the hijackers. After brushing off the report as “historical,” she shamefully tried to duck testifying before the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks.

References to Lady Macbeth aside, Rice underwent uterine artery embolization at Georgetown University Hospital to treat multiple fibroids and their attendant symptoms. The procedure involved injecting tiny pellets into proximate uterine arteries to stop blood flow and starve the tumors. Embolization along with a new ultrasound bombardment technique is seen as less radical alternative to a total hysterectomy. Duke University’s Dr. Evan Myers opined, “It is amazing that for a condition as common as fibroids, that has such significant impact on reproductive-age women, there is not a lot of high-quality scientific evidence for many of the things that are done for fibroids.” Well, what can you expect in a country where 10 million women without a cervix still get Pap tests? Dr. Brenda E. Sirovich, who’s paper on the subject has been published by The Journal of the AMA, expressed her dismay: “We were actually quite surprised, these women are being screened for cancer in an organ that they don’t have.” Dr. Kenneth Noller, chairman of obstetrics and gynecology at Tufts-New England Medical Center quipped, “It’s kind of hard to figure out.” Not really. With medical reimbursement rates plummeting and malpractice insurance skyrocketing, charging $40 for a three-minute procedure makes perfect sense.

It didn’t take long. Only months after President Bush put assault weapons back into the hands of the public, five people were killed with a SKS 7.62 mm semiautomatic rifle. This is indeed the same gun that killed eight police officers between 1998 and 2001 and can be admired at http://www.sinodefence.com/army/individual/rifle_79.asp. Although it was deer season, 36-year-old Chai Vang thought it would be easier to bag a handful of rival hunters on a private reserve in Sawyer County, Wisconsin. I’ve heard that Asians will eat just about anything, but this is too grisly to stomach. And before you think I’m exacerbating some baseless stereotype, consider that Beging’s Dong Hua Men Night Market offers baby sparrows, scorpions, crickets, and any manner of animal brains while the nearby Fangshang Restaurant serves up paw of camel and ass of dog. At any rate, when a hunter spotted someone in his tree stand, he and several others approached the suspect and asked him to leave, according to Sawyer County Sheriff James Meier. Mr. Vang climbed down from the stand and was walking away, when “for some apparent reason he turned and opened fire on them,” reported Meier.

More people were shot as they arrived on all-terrain vehicles to rescue the first group, after which authorities found two bodies next to each other and the rest scattered over a 100-yard stretch. Hunter Bill Wagner, 72, of Oshkosh was two miles away when he heard the sirens and discovered roads in the area had been barricaded. “When you’re hunting, you don’t expect somebody to try to shoot you and murder you,” Wagner offered. Unless, of course, you’re a helpless animal out looking for some food.

Though Sears, Roebuck & Co. has indefatigably proven itself to be a markedly shoddy retailer, the stock jumped 23% last week on news that Vornado Realty Trust acquired more than four percent of the company. When the shares surged past $45, earnings were barely expected to clear $1.50, making for a rather expensive proposition despite valuable brands like Kenmore, Craftsman and Land’s End. Clearly, Vornado was not betting on improving sales for socks and wrenches. Rather, they sought to unlock the value buried under hundreds of company-owned store locations.

But now it looks like Kmart has beaten them to the punch. In a deal valued $11.5 billion, the blue light merchant will acquire Sears, whose executives – obtaining their largesse at the expense of their self esteem – must feel like they were handed the answers during a high school geography test by the retarded kid in the back row. Kmart chairman Edward Lampert has successfully employed this real estate strategy before, selling over $800 million of corporate assets to Home Depot and, ironically, Sears. It is worth noting that Lampert owned 15% of Sears prior to the merger; comparisons to self-dealing Rite Aid executive (and convicted felon) Vornado Realty Trust might bear examination.

The most stupendous financial scandal of the day, however, is the disclosure that John Kerry’s campaign took it in the ass with $45 million left in the bank. And that’s not even counting $7 million remaining in his GELAC (General Election Legal and Accounting Compliance) Fund. I’ve heard of keeping your powder dry, but this is an outrage! I want my $2,000 back, and I can’t decide whether to call Bill Lerach or Elliot Spitzer.

God knows I’m not the only one who could use the money. Uncle Sam is damn near destitute and the $412 billion budget deficit is, according to Federal Reserve Board Governor Edward Gramlich, “a significant problem.” Because Asian countries with large trade surpluses continue to fuel their exports by propping up the dollar, they risk importing inflation, at which time, posits Gramlich, “they are probably going to have to stop.” And that’s bad news for America because they’ll discontinue plowing their extra greenbacks back into our Treasury market, which means interest rates will climb and choke out our economic expansion. “Right now,” he summed up, “we have a pretty unstable world situation.”

Well you certainly won’t find stability anywhere in the Bush administration right now. Over in Langley, the exits are packed with departing CIA personnel. Deputy Director John E. McLaughlin and executive director Buzzy Krongard went out during the first wave of high profile departures. They were soon followed by Stephen R. Kappes, the deputy director for operations, and his deputy, Michael J. Sulick (each 23 year veterans). Sen. John D. Rockefeller IV of West Virginia, the ranking Democrat on the Senate Intelligence Committee, observed, “the departure of highly respected and competent individuals at such a crucial time is a grave concern.” He added that newly appointed CIA director Porter Goss “must take immediate steps to stabilize the situation.” Good luck there. Goss is regarded as a buffoon and remains widely despised within the agency. Sources underscore damaging information leaked to the Washington Post about Goss’ nominee for executive director, Michael V. Kostiw, who was forced to bow out after a story broke that he had left the CIA decades earlier after being accused of shoplifting.

More movement: The Billy Joel / Twyla Tharp Musical “Movin’ Out” descends upon our nation’s capital tomorrow, with cast and crew encamping only blocks away from the White House in D.C.’s National Theatre. The show has garnered rave reviews and even snagged a couple of Tony Awards. But imitation, they say, is still the highest form of flattery. Even before the curtain goes up on the month-long engagement, half of the President’s cabinet declared they’re movin’ out. Oh sure, they were mostly boobs and half-wits, but Colin Powell’s departure expunges any vestige of intellect or gravitas the administration possessed. Humiliated by the now infamous WMD dissertation at the United Nations, Powell seeks to add an exclamation point to his failure at the State Department by taking his closing act to the Mideast where the Palestinians have their own way of killing an audience.

Resplendent in his emblematic keffiyeh and a flowing hospital gown, Yasser Arafat spent several days lightly treading that narrow hallway between life and death. Comatose in a military facility outside Paris, the Palestinian leader finally passed on, unshackled from questions surrounding his funeral and his final place of rest. The PLO accepted Egypt’s offer to hold the ceremony in Cairo and successfully negotiated with Israel to bury Arafat in the West Bank city of Ramallah. Initial conflicts over Arafat’s demands had enflamed passions on both sides and had threatened to spark a political crisis. Mufti Ikrema Sabri declared Arafat “willed to be buried in Jerusalem and from a religious perspective, we must and need to honor his will,” further noting Arafat’s desire to be near the Al Aqsa Mosque, Islam’s third holiest shrine. Israel’s justice minister, Yosef Lapid, angrily countered that holy city is “where Jewish kings are buried and not Arab terrorists.” Personally, I think Arafat had the same right to a Jerusalem burial as Ariel Sharon has to a crypt in Mecca’s Grand Mosque.

All these ministrations over death conjure up a thought that losing this election was akin to watching a close friend die. We held out hope until the very last – and maybe even beyond that. Standing in front of a headstone and a mound of freshly turned earth, we are left only to digest the cold reality that faces us. This is, to say the least, difficult. Many of us remain in denial, making vaporous arguments that Kerry would have won if not for ballot fraud in Ohio. Some rationalize that the colossal fiscal and military blunders of his first term will constrain Bush’s ability to bring us to even greater damnation. Still others hide their fear and sadness behind a curtain of laughter. A cartoon with huge ears protruding out of an oversized cowboy hat or pictures of George juxtaposed with a monkey. Or that red and blue map of America, showing a wide swath of stupidity spreading out from the Mississippi River like a flu epidemic feasting on creationists who chose bibles over vaccines.

Given the despicable events of 2000, however, we are doomed to seek electoral slight of hand anywhere we fail to embrace the results. This is not all without justification, mind you. “It’s a screw-up,” confessed Hamilton County Board of Elections chairman Tim Burke after voters in suburban Cincinnati received absentee ballots devoid of John Kerry’s name. Instead, the Democrats were replaced by the words “CANDIDATE REMOVED.” Meanwhile, electronic voting systems at a precinct near Columbus gave Bush an extra 3,893 votes and exit polls statewide showed Kerry winning with 52%. These numbers add up to a rather unintelligible calculus, but in the end, even the candidate himself saw no way of tap dancing past 135,000 hardcore rednecks. Oh well, you know what they say down in Texas: fool me once, shame on me and, uh, the second… oh, hell, ya can’t fool me.

Federal District Court Judge James Robertson certainly couldn’t put one past John Ashcroft. After ruling that Guantanamo’s so called enemy combatants are entitled to a hearing on the question of their POW status and to confront any evidence and witnesses in the case against them, Ashcroft bailed out. “While I have indeed relished dismantling America’s civil liberties, these obstructionist judges seem intent on fucking things up.” President Bush quickly nominated White House counsel Alberto Gonzales as attorney general. “His sharp intellect and sound judgment have helped shape our policies in the war on terror,” the President offered. Yeah, like withholding evidence from Congress, unilaterally vacating the Geneva Convention, and constructing the legal framework that allowed the torture chambers at Abu Ghraib to flourish.

Quietly, another member of the Bush posse, Commerce Secretary Don Evans, rode Ashcroft’s early stagecoach out of town. With the economy beginning to show life, Evans was nonetheless subverted by the plunging dollar (it now takes $1.30 to buy one lousy euro) and the Federal Reserve’s incessant series of rate hikes. The latest move brings the fed funds rate to 2%, sharpening the odds that the housing bubble may soon be popped. The departure of these two wranglers no doubt sets me and the 56,249,863 other terrified citizens of our territory to wonder: how do we get the hell out of Dodge?