A joke is a very serious thing.

And now we come down to the last one, and I know what you're all thinking. "Oh, what stupid video game/cartoon/B movie character are you going to choose this time?" Well, smartass, it's a real person this time. I am appointing Winston Churchill as my Secretary of State.

Although, I will admit, Winston Churchill isn't much of a real person. I mean look at him. Did someone distill my preconceptions of 1930's England down into a living, breathing person? Apparently so - and he was even elected Prime Minister. So yeah, I'm thinking he's kind of a made-up person. I mean if world leaders were stereotypical caricatures of the countries they represent, then any asshole in the world could be the next President. But on the other hand, Churchill did completely bitch FDR, and that's good enough for me.

For real though, Churchill's fame/wisdom seems somewhat overinflated and fictitious to me. He's perhaps the single most often quoted individual in the English-speaking world, and I always wondered why, since none of his quotes ever made any sense. Examples:

"A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." Yeah, I guess.
"When the war of the giants is over the wars of the pygmies will begin. " Um...k.
"I always avoid prophesying beforehand, because it is a much better policy to prophesy after the event has already taken place." But that-
"Meeting Franklin Roosevelt was like opening your first bottle of champagne; knowing him was like drinking it. "...gross.
"India is a geographical term. It is no more a united nation than the Equator. " Oh snap! Take it easy, WC. You can't just say that. You know they have the internet there now, right?
"Although personally I am quite content with existing explosives, I feel we must not stand in the path of improvement." WHAT!? Where did THAT come from? Well, I do enjoy explosions.
"The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter." Hahaha, touche, Mr. Churchill. Touche. What ever happened to aristocracy, anyway?
"Politics are very much like war. We may even have to use poison gas at times." Explosives AND chemical weapons!? Mr. Churchill, I think we have a LOT in common.
"Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery." OMG! That's what I said!
"When you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite." Holy damn! What a delightfully insane thing to say. You, my good man, have the job. Feel free to represent me in any matter.

And that's pretty much how I came to this decision.

Veterans' Affairs?

I'm not even sure what this department does, and I refuse to research it. But, based on the title, I've decided to appoint Connor MacLeod as the Secretary of Veterans' Affairs.

For those of you who are too pretentious or female to get the reference, it's from the Highlander. The premise is this: He is immortal, and he is compelled to wander the earth in search of other immortals so that he may decapitate them and steal their strength. Repeat until there is only one. There. I just explained The Highlander to you. If this is your first time hearing this, enjoy going to Starbuck's with your douchebag girlfriend/boyfriend.

Anyway, as a product of his epicness, Mr. MacLeod has been alive for several hundred years, and has seen him some pretty ridiculous shit. Including Sean Connery. So yeah, I'd say Mr. MacLeod knows well the ravages and aftermath of war. I can't think of anyone better situated to guide policy concerning how we should accommodate and honor the sacrifices of the bravest members of our society. ("WHAT? He DOES know what the department does! He DID do the research!" Of course I did, bitches! YOU GOT OBAMACHALLENGE'D!)

And instead of listing his qualifications, I've decided to simply include a few photos of people he's killed in single combat. (Note: That's a stupid idea. I'll just include three different pictures of The Kurgan, since that'll be three times as impressive.)







Next!

Work Smarter...

...not harder! Unless you're Congress. Then you do neither. And that's one of the MANY reasons I've decided to appoint Scrooge McDuck as the Secretary of the Treasury.

If you have no idea why I made this appointment, you're probably a Democrat, and you should probably read this. So let's go through the motions:

Currently, the treasury is run by this asshole, whose approach to the current economic meltdown is basically to print more money. Genius! Then everybody will have enough to buy a house and medical insurance and a third cell phone and-- what's that? A loaf of bread is $50,000? Oh, snap! I guess getting your economic policy from gamefaqs doesn't really work out in real life.

Enter Scrooge McDuck - the hard-working-Scottish-immigrant-turned-omni-industrialist. I'm not sure if he's ever held a government position, but you can be damn sure he's financed entire nations. The man makes it rain like Katrina (too soon?), and judging by the sheer number of mills, mines, shipyards, refineries, banks, factories, plants, farms, railroads, and finance companies he owns, he probably employs a workforce the size of Canada. In actual size, too. Not population. This duck is a true asset to the American economy, and an absolute patriot.

Now I hear the critics already, and I'll take each criticism (appearing in quotations below) as an opportunity to point out a strength or qualification.
1) "He's a rich pig who hordes his money." Bullshit. Nobody in this country with any amount of wealth hordes money. (See White People's Handbook, Chapter 12.) The only lump sums of cash you'll ever find lying around are in a four-year-old's piggy bank and the bindle of an illiterate migrant worker. The wealthy people are wealthy because they invest. You know - that crazy thing rich people do to take money and turn it into more money. It creates jobs and builds wealth. All economy ever is predicated on it. Of course, if you believe the vitriol of the present administration, investing in any sort of property or security (especially GM corporate bonds) makes you a particularly despicable pile of scum. Even though you're one of about 95 million Americans who own any sort of stock, bond, mutual fund, pension, etc.

2) "If he's not hording money, then how do you explain the big swimming pool full of treasure?" Please - full of INVESTMENTS. Those gold farthings are only a slice of the McDuck portfolio. Who says you have to lock that stuff up in a vault? He owns it - he can do what he wants. And yes there's cash in there. Ask anyone with an analog wristwatch - every investment portfolio should hold roughly 5-10% (up to 20% in a recession) cash to maintain flexibility and limit loss. Duh.

3) "He's a monster who makes his employees slave for hours for minimal pay." Oh, gee, I'm sorry he likes to keep his overhead down and make his businesses profitable. Hey, I've got a great idea - let's run McDuck industries like a magical paradise where the employees are paid whatever they want regardless of our earnings. I guess Scrooge and I are in the minority who think it's ok for companies to be motivated by making money. I'm sorry we can't all employ the UAW, and pay our workers full wages and benefits for working 30 hour weeks (assuming they aren't striking) and let them retire at 48 with full pension and medical for life. I know drug dealers and made men who don't have deals that sweet.

4) "But he-" Shhhh. He's only going to say it once. "I made [my money] on the seas, and in the mines, and in the cattle wars of the old frontier! I made it by being tougher than the toughies, and smarter than the smarties! And I made it square!" (Emphasis added.)

5) "(Anything remotely espousing something New Deal-esque.)" No. Mr. McDuck isn't a complete raving madman.

And since I'm on the topic of money, I'm appointing Michael Corleone as the Secretary of Commerce.

Since "commerce" and "jobs" only continue to exist in the academic sense, this department is mostly for show. However, with a 38% corporate tax rate and more restrictions and regs on the way, you can rest assured that the only way to facilitate commerce in the near future will be by doing something illegal. So if you can think of someone better suited for the job, you're wrong.

Plus, he straight up murders anyone he can't buy out, which is an obvious bonus when I'm considering cabinet members.

I LIVE!

A lot of you have expressed concern that the project is slowing down, that I've lost interest, etc. etc.

This is not true.

On the physical side, the Challenge is going at full speed. I haven't skipped a beat at the gym. Without my shirt on, I look pretty much like Sauron in the opening scene of Fellowship.

On the mental side, I've had to forgo the reading list, as I'm trying to get a jump on next semester. In a way, that's part of the challenge though - learning more than the President did in law school. Which was apparently nothing.

So yeah. I've been out of town/family stuff/working/etc. These are excuses. For the weak. I acknowledge that, and I apologize for the temporary failure on my part.

So, to make amends with my readers, who deserve nothing short of epicer-than-hell, I've decided to knock out the rest of my cabinet...TONIGHT!

Stay tuned, kiddos.

You Dog!

Thanks, Reuters!


More on this later. For now let me just say this: If you're challenging me to a woman-ogling competition, you have already lost.

The Death Stars Didn't Build Themselves...

...but a combination of military engineers, low-wage contractors, and slave labor did. This is why I appoint Emperor Palpatine, aka Darth Sidious to my cabinet as the Secretary of Labor.

The man has a number of qualifications - he has overthrown a galactic government or two, he turns the hearts of men on a daily basis, and he can SHOOT LIGHTNING FROM HIS EFFING FINGERS - but his experience in labor administration and organization is often overlooked.

Some years ago, or some time in the future (whatever), the Emperor's efficient implementation of the New Order allowed for the construction of some of the most impressive engineering feats ever produced, specifically the Imperial Fleet of Star Destroyers and two, yes TWO Death Stars. Maybe you've heard of them. How exactly did he do it? Well, a monopoly on everything everywhere is a helpful asset, and the ability to inflict horrifying torment and death on a whim is always a helpful way to motivate your workforce. But these things alone do not a world-destroying-mass-of-metal-and-lasers make. For that, you need Imperial Decree A-SL-4557.607.232. And what is that, you ask? Well for those of you who are too lazy to read the two lines I've linked to you, it's the galactic legalization of slavery for basically all non-humans.

Now I know what you are all thinking: "Isn't the institution of slavery completely repugnant and amoral?" Well, the answer is yes, BUT SLAVE LABOR IS EVEN BETTER. Personally, I can't think of a better way to cut costs. Even theft typically has a higher overhead, especially with the Thieves' Guild* now demanding medical and dental benefits. When you're paying a stale loaf of bread and four hours of sleep for every 20 hour shift, you're slashing labor costs like a Cat-o-Nine-Tails against soft, tender backmeat. And talk about results! Here's a list of just a few of the things slave labor has built:

All empires ever
Nike
America (Yes, the North, too. Like no one in New England bought rice, cotton, tobacco, corn, oranges, or soybeans before 1865. Cracker, please.)
The modern diamond industry
Harvard, probably

Now, I know what you're thinking. "But doesn't this make Emperor Palpatine a horrible racist, and taint your cabinet with supremecist sentiment?" Well, the answer to that question is a resounding "no." Any self-respecting student of the Sith would know that the Dark Side's tenants lie squarely in xenological culture, so racism is not only hypocritical, but counterproductive to honing one's dark Jedi skills. Imperial Decree A-SL-4557.607.232 wasn't motivated by hatred, but by labor demand! And granted, it may have had some adverse effects on race relations, but really, who's gonna run the show? Mon Calamari? That would be like having a Wookie accountant. (Man, the Galactic Civil Liberties Union is going to be on my ass about that one.)

And for all you readers who thought I would leave Star Wars out of the Cabinet: I find your lack of faith disturbing.

/nerdturnoff

* - I couldn't find "Thieves' Guild" on the Wookiepedia, but I'm assuming there is a thieves' guild in the Star Wars universe since there's one in every other fantasy universe of all time ever in history starring Viggo Mortensen.

Awesome Block

As you've probably reasoned from my lack of activity, I'm having a severe case of Awesome Block. It's like writer's block, but it's reserved for people who don't go to Starbucks. Anyway, as the name of the disease implies, something is effectively blocking my awesome, which is preventing me from making my last few cabinet appointments and getting on to the next project I've got lined up.

So, I'm asking for your help. That's right, groundlings, I need your input to round out my esteemed panel of closest advisors. The remaining positions include:
Secretary of the Treasury
Secretary of Commerce (now a subsidiary of the above, I believe)
Secretary of Labor
Secretary of Veteran's Affairs

You'll notice that I've left out Secretary of State. This is because I'm already eying someone who, for the sake of comedy, will probably need to be announced last. So, if you have any ideas, post them in the comment section to this post, along with a brief description of their qualifications. Disagreements with others (or myself) should be settled with battle axes. Close questions may be decided by an old-fashioned vote-off. (Yes, vote-off. NOT an election. The difference being that someone will win in the former.)

Don't be disappointed when I shoot down your stupid ideas. I've trained you better than that.

Double Appointment Extravaganza

I understand many of you had a problem with the brevity of my previous post. A new courage wolf for you:

Also, since I'll be out of town this weekend, I've decided to make a double cabinet appointment with extra bonus goodies. In making these appointments, I've decided to revive/duplicate an old department: the Department of War. Enjoy.

The Secretary of Defense - Brock Samson
Calling Mr. Samson's job "defense" is like saying the sun "burns". Sure it's technically correct but it's also an astronomical understatement. For those of you who don't know, Brock Samson is the elite OSI (read: vintage CIA) bodyguard for Dr. Rusty Venture and his family. Some warriors kill at will. Brock doesn't even put that much effort into it.

Brock has been a member of the military and intelligence community for decades, yet still maintains an impeccable golden mullet, and can bench press most nouns. In spite of his military background, however, the man is staunchly anti-firearm, and flatly abhors gun violence, mainly because guns are for cowards. Real men use knives. And cigarettes.

The man's qualifications are beyond question. Brock Samson knows the bloody enterprise of war better than any mortal, and has seen extensive combat in every possible corner of the earth. I once saw him beat a polar bear to death with a grown man, AND VICE VERSA. So while many may criticize Mr. Samson's administrative inexperience and his total lack of people skills, there remains the fact that he has single handedly dispatched several militaries. So with Mr. Samson at the helm, any national security threat will be met with instant and excessive force that it will make Kent State look like a Jonas Brothers concert.

The Department of War - The Emperor of Man
Have you ever wandered what a cybernetic grizzly bear would do to a classroom full of five-year-olds? Well, multiply that by about fifty and you'll get some handle on The Emperor's war-making prowess.

For some reason I'll never understand, The Emperor hasn't quite cracked the mainstream, so I'll catch you up quickly: Before his crippling injuries at the hands of his traitor son/general Horus, the Emperor was:
a) Immortal
b) Over twenty feet tall
c) Telepathic
d) The sole means of faster-than-light travel
Needless to say, these things together made him pretty good at killing folk. Kind of like as good as Jordan was at basketball, times as good as Tiger is at golf, multiplied by The Lord of the Rings, all to the Kurt Russellth power. See how his sword is burning like that? That's what happens when you slay the tormented and damned souls of millions with a single blade.
Anyway, around the order of ten thousand years ago, The Emperor was severely wounded in combat, prompting him to retirement on the Golden Throne, where his life support system is fueled by the daily sacrifice of one thousand psykers (read: mind readers). And while he remains withdrawn and fairly uncommunicaive with the outside world, The Emperor still organizes superluminal travel for the entire fleet of the imperium, and he's probably omniscient as well. Oh, and the mere whisper of his true name will cause a man to instantly go insane and flay himself with a rib bone he tears from his own chest. So yeah. I'd say he's the obvious pick for Secretary of War.

So now would probably be a good time to introduce you to hands-down the epicest body of fiction ever conceived: Warhammer: 40,000. In fact, I'm making it a homework assignment. Read up on that while I'm gone for the weekend. In fact, read until you run out of epic. If you can finish before the sun explodes I'll be impressed.

The United States Attorney General

Denny Crane

Explanations are for democrats.

Awesome Is a Synonym...for YOU!

If the lines at ATM's, checkout counters, and airport security are any indication of the intellect of the average American, I can confidently say that the Department of Education is a complete joke. The other day at the movie theater, I elected to buy my tickets from a machine to avoid the mouth breathing and knuckle dragging associated with the plebian masses that wait in the actual box office line. This was a mistake. The woman in front of me took around the order of eight minutes to buy her tickets. The first two minutes she spent completely befuddled by the mystical symbols written on the glowy devilbox in front of her. Then she proceeded to browse the movies and showtimes for another minute or so, because she apparently decided to purchase tickets before identifying the movie she wished to watch. And then the payment misadventure started. I won't go into too many details, but suffice it to say that she attempted to run her debit card through the cash slot, among other painful and hilarious failures.

I typically take a three step approach to these day to day pedestrian challenges: 1) Read instructions. 2) Do what instructions say. 3) Move along. It sounds simple, but I assure you, many people can't fathom it. Sadly, time and place are a mystery to many Americans with subhuman intelligence and worse judgment. And unfortunately, we live in a society so fluffy and plastic that these people can actually survive to adulthood. Personally, I blame our farcical public education system. People can't be this stupid naturally. If so, our ancestors wouldn't have ever survived the ice age (or dinosaurs, depending on how crazy you are). So, every time I listen to the better part of a Weezer album while waiting for the person in front of me to complete his ATM transaction, I'll think of you, Arne Duncan. Look at him in that photo. He has no idea what's going on. Completely oblivious.

So, more or less for the reasons stated above, I am appointing Courage Wolf as the Secretary of Education.

I know he's a bit of a dark horse and a complete outsider, but that's exactly what this department needs - a maverick outsider with an awesomely hostile disposition. Courage Wolf, the edgier sibling to Advice Dog, has built his career giving real-world advice to citizens of the internet. He has no method or discipline to speak of. No formal education. And probably rabies. But all this means is that he is untainted by the glorified daycare we call "public school." For years, Courage Wolf has provided real-world advice for every-day problems ("Dress your wounds in salt and bleach!" Thanks, CW! Now I know what to do for this nasty paper cut!), as well as more geopolitical and philosophical teachings ("The sidewalk is mine. Enjoy the lawn." Such is the tao of Courage Wolf. Contemplate it, and be well.) Other lessons include:

"Spit in her face. Moonwalk away."
"Kill the weak. Use them for fires."
"You! Fuck yeah!"

Courage Wolf brings to the table the radness and violence I believe is necessary to remedy the soft-mindedness of contemporary America. If you have any doubts about his capabilities, just remember this: "If there is no blood, you're doing it wrong." Words to live by, America.

Roll Out!

It should surprise no one that I've appointed Optimus Prime as Secretary of Transportation.

Qualifications: Spends much of his time as a motor vehicle. (Note: from the looks of it, this may also be true of Ray LaHood.) More specifically, Prime spends much of his time as a semi rig - the vehicle that forms the logistical backbone of this country. Sure he and the Autobots may symbolize our consumption of 24% of the world's oil, but they also symbolize the 28% of the global GDP we make by burning said oil. As a walking/rolling ode to American muscle and machinery, don't expect Prime to pursue a green fleet...or do. I'm not quite sure whether energon leaves a "carbon footprint", or, as I call it, "made-up fakeness."

Also, for those of you thinking that the DOT is a minor department, and that the Secretary is a minor official, and while that may have been true in the past, it stops now. Optimus Prime has been a role model and a leader in my own life. Throughout my childhood he bestowed the wisdom of ages upon me every Saturday morning at 9:30. There is no doubt that Prime is one of the preeminent minds of contemporary Western thought, and his contributions to philosophy cannot be overstated. I would like to share with you a few of his teachings that I find as timeless as they are inexhaustible:

"There is a fine line between being a hero and becoming a memory."
"We can't ignore danger. We must conquer it."
"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."

Also, note that I didn't include an image of the Michael Bay CGI prime. I've chosen this image for two reasons: 1) I'm old school like that and 2) this one has much more gun. I hear my more liberal colleagues right now - "We don't want cartoons promoting gun violence!" "We hate the constitution!" "Organic couscous!" Well, you can all eat one. Every Obama cultist who has ever visited a shooting range has come back with a SEVERE case of gun fever. So don't even contend this point. Hypocrites.

HHS

Appointed Secretary of Health and Human Services: The Predator.



From the jungles of South America to the streets of Los Angeles, The Predator has served the health interests of (read: "tore spine from") literally thousands of individuals. While his political career got off to something of a false start after his losing campaign he fought against now-governor Arnold Schwarzenegger in Colombia (or Bolivia. Whatever.), he has nonetheless perservered in true American style, taking his agenda to central Los Angeles, where he worked closely to reform the city's drug-ridden urban communities...to death.

The Predator will be bringing a rather radical approach to the Department of Health and Human Services. Our public health care system is a bloated, inefficient, fraud-riddled behemoth with an absolutely astronomical cost-to-benefit ratio. Every day we shell out millions in taxpayer dollars to individuals who are medically hopeless, walking liabilities. No more.

During my administration, the Predator will address Medicare and Medicaid's efficiency issues by trimming the fat. Literally. Mr. Predator will be on the ground every day, working hard to reform our broken system by stalking, murdering, and flaying hundreds of unfit and parasitic citizens a day, which will of course eliminate any need for the government to pay their way ever again.

I recognize that many individuals are concerned about the Predator's stance on abortion, where he occupies what is undoubtedly the minority position: the Predator is not pro-choice or pro-life, but decidedly pro-death. Some see this as a flaw. But I see it as exactly the kind of mold-shattering iconoclastic thinking that this country needs.

Update: Week Two

Mental Achievement! : Secrets of the Universe Unlocked!

So I finished Warped Passages this week - a pretty great read, although I think the explanation of symmetry/supersymmetry/symmetry breaking could have been a little more clear. But then again, it doesn't seem like a concept that's easy to communicate using simple words on a page. If you decide to pick this one up, a word of advice: if you don't get it, just keep reading and try harder.

What bearing does this have on my training, you ask? First: IT'S THE MYSTERIES OF THE EFFING UNIVERSE. Ask President Obama why certain particles have mass while others don't. Go ahead. Ask him. The answer will be "I don't know," and it'll cost twelve billion dollars. Give up, Mr. President? It's called the Higgs Mechanism. And that one's on the house, ya'll.

Second: see hilarity below.

Physical Challenge: X-Treme Progress

So now I look more or less like this:

(Fig. 1) Pictured: A harrowing crusade to purge weakness from the world starring Russell Crowe. Not pictured: Biz Markie.

Gym visits since the challenge began: 14.
Total weight lifted: Incalculable - 1 or 2 million suns.
Reps.
This week's weigh in: 181 lbs, which means I've lost a pound. I'm not quite sure where it went, but thanks to my understanding of quantum physics, I've included a crudely drawn Feynman diagram to explain my theory of what happened to it:

(Fig. 2) An O'Donnellon - a large particle of purely unwanted biomass (named after Rosie O'Donnell) - and Exercise annihilate into pure unadulterated rage, which converts into a virtual Megatron-Jack Bauer pair. The Megatron-Jack Bauer pair go out on the town, drink several whiskeys, find some strange, and annihilate back into rage, which then dissipates into a substantial jet of badassery, and I get my flexon.

Coming soon: Sun Tzu! Double appointment extravaganza!

Yippie-Ki-Yay

I almost didn't post this since it was incredibly obvious, but my pick for Secretary of Homeland Security is John McClane.



Now, I'm not so sure what makes Janet Napolitano so qualified for the position (I'm pretty sure nothing), but her outright inferiority to Mr. McClane can't really be questioned. Simply put, Ms. Napolitano hasn't put in over 30 years as a detective with the New York and Los Angeles police departments, and she has absolutely no idea what a TV dinner feels like.

Mr. McClane has single-handedly thwarted numerous terrorrist plots, besting Alan Rickman and Jeremy Irons in the process. Given his blue collar appeal, his support from the conservative wing is strong, and he's practically a deadlock for the liberals, since as far as I know he's never even touched an Arab, and kills whites almost exclusively. He's never had much administrative experience, but his years of on-the-ground experience have helped Mr. McClane develop a style of leadership that could be described as any of the following: "rugged", "hard-boiled", "rough and/or tumble", "shoulder-to-the-wheel"...the list goes on.

Plus, in the words of Proposition Joe, the man has more bodies on him than a Chinese cemetary.

HUD

America, welcome your new Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, straight from Bodymore, Murderland: Marlo Stanfield.



Mr. Stanfield began reforming the streets of the West Side of the Baltimore slums at an incredibly young age. After prevailing over the incumbent political machine of Avon Barksdale, Mr. Stanfield quickly established himself as a community leader. From day one, Mr. Stanfield has focused on building and growing a community network focused on satisfying the basic needs of the local indigents as well as providing training and employment opportunities to inner-city youth. Even in the face of overwhelming adversity from competing state agencies, Mr. Stanfield's various programs managed to produce staggering surpluses for his own administration. There can be no question that Marlo Stanfield will bring much-needed ambition and innovation to my cabinet.

That, and he stacks more paper than Kinko's.

In Review: Week One

All in all this was a hugely successful week, with my condition proceeding pretty well across the board. I expect to be at least Zachary Taylor level by August if I keep this up.

Physical Challenge
I've had no change in my weight - it's been a full fat->muscle transmutation. Six trips to the gym in seven days, weights were lifted, miles were biked. There have been no major physical milestones, but I'll post them as they come.

I have, however, completed a the Bonus Physical Challenge: Communing with Nature. Photo documentation and writeup are forthcoming.

Mental Challenge
I'll finish Warped Passages this week, and pick up Sun Tzu after that. However, I'm kind of at a loss about how to proceed. Anyone with great book recommendations, I'm all ears. In particular I'm looking at something on politics or economics, but really anything is in bounds. However, I'd prefer non-fiction, unless you have some particularly brutal or awesome literature in mind. (Yes, I've read Hamlet and Macbeth more times than is healthy.)

Cabinet Appointment: Department of the Interior
In the interest of protection the natural bounties of America, I've appointed perhaps the greenest possible candidate as the Secretary of the Interior: Archdruid Malfurion Stormrage.

He may be purple. He may be an elf. He may wear leaves and shit. But he may also shapeshift into a bear with fireclaws and manually remove your spine through your rectum. I know this pick may scare a lot of people. The Archdruid is about as radical as it gets, but I figured an appointment like this would satisfy, if not one-up those Whale Wars hippies.

Malfurion plays for keeps. Polluters beware: if you so much as litter, this man may emerge from his 10,000 year slumber to slaughter the entire lineage of your people before burning your bodies and much of the planet into fine black ash. He makes Captain Planet look like New Jersey.

The Secretary of Energy

I hereby appoint Remy Etienne LeBeau as the Secretary of Energy.

Admittedly, Mr. LeBeau has little experience in government or community service. In fact, in his early years, he engaged in decidedly anti-community service - namely theft, gambling, and whoring.

However, Mr. LeBeau is unique in that he is one of the few individuals alive who flatly disregards the Law of Conservation of Energy. As a result, Mr. LeBeau will be taking a hands-on approach to domestic energy policy. Literally. Since he charges physical objects with energy by touching him. I expect that his day-to-day operations will include the creation of raw kinetic energy that this country needs to fuel its dynamic infrastructure. And better yet, it's all clean and carbon free. You're welcome, Sierra Club. Of course, when he's not pacifying granola-munching "consultants", he'll be savagely beating Steven Chu into purpley submission. Or not, since Mr. Chu has extensive experience with lasers. Whatever.

Either way, Remy LeBeau was born and raised in New Orleans. Which means he probably lost everything he ever knew ever in all time forever in Hurricane Katrina. So if you don't support him you're automatically a heartless racist.

The Cabinet

It's been a few days since my last post. The reason? I've been training in space.

Many of you have addressed the concern that I'm one man, while the president is perpetually surrounded by a cadre of (pretentious) individuals. My response? I'm building my own cabinet.

Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be assembling my cabinet piece by piece. Not only will my cabinet be highly qualified, it will be the most deadly and kickass collection of executive officials the world has ever seen.

So, to kick it off, I'm nominating William Munny as my Secretary of Agriculture.



Unlike prep-school "Iowan" Tom Vilsack, Bill Munny knows exactly how hard it is to live off of the land. His is a tale of loss and adversity, but thanks to his never-say-die attitude, he was able to bring peace and justice to the township of Big Whiskey, Wyoming. After tragically losing his wife to smallpox in 1878, Mr. Munny eked out a living as a pig farmer, providing as best as he could for his two young children. And when that didn't work out, he got liquored up and killed everyone.

So what exactly does William Munny bring to my administration? Certainly he has guns, torturous memories, and a sweet duster. But his most valuable assets are experience, and a little thing I like to call "murder." America, welcome William Munny.

Looking forward: Friday's weigh-in.

The Matchup

The first of many. Enjoy.

	Me	Barack Obama
Age	25	47
Heritage	Scotch-Werebeast	English-Kenyan
Height	6'	6' 1.5"
Weight	182 lbs.	160 lbs.
Reach	76"	78"
Style	Tiger-Ox	Dialog

I also found this. Weakling.

Bonus Mental Achievement: Puzzle Mastery

I recently completed The Fool's Errand - the classic late-80's cult puzzle hit, featured in Wired here. The puzzles range pretty widely in their difficulty, and some are outright impossible on a modern computer (thanks for the workaround, internets!), and should you choose to undertake the Errand as well, know that you should probably opt to use the keyboard over the mouse - apparently mice cursors in 1987 could only move in one-inch increments.

Among The Fool's Errand fan base is none other than JJ Abrams, which means I now probably have the mental capacity for deciphering nonsensical and spontaneous plot twists, and can fully appreciate the subtle undertones of arcana (read: Tarot) that permeate Lost. Note that I say "subtle undertones" instead of "subtle symbolism", since as far as I can tell, all major and minor arcana is completely meaningless.

Nonetheless, I doubt the President has even heard of The Fool's Errand or its progeny, such as Myst. This clearly gives me the advantage should the President and I do battle in some ancient, trap-riddled temple, or in any movie starring Nicholas Cage or Tom Hanks.

Day One: The Weigh-In

Training power, activate! Today, the Challenge has officially begun - I've joined the gym, and even set aside a little time for some light reading.

The Mental Challenge: Warped Passages by Lisa Randall (Ecco, 2005)

I already have a rudimentary understanding of quantum physics in the Standard Model, thanks to Stephen Hawking and Wikipedia. But this looks to be much more in-depth than say, The Universe in a Nutshell, and after the first chapter it seems to be nonetheless accessible to a lay person. Check out Dr. Randall's interview with Charlie Rose if you want a taste.

The relevance to the fight: What more potent weapon could I possibly wield than the secrets of the universe? Well, for one it would give me a tactical advantage should we do battle at any of the numerous (read: few) particle accelerators, including Fermilab in the President's own Illinois. Hey, Mr. President, what's the difference between a fermion and a boson? Oh, do you give up? Well too late, because my punchons have already communicated the strong force all over your face. That's SCIENCE.

The Physical Challenge: Actually Working Out

Today I joined the gym, lifted heavy things, and ran a substantial distance. I weighed in at 182 pounds. Not as bad as I thought.

After eight grueling minutes, I crawled to my car, battered, my legs useless at that point, and I had a startling revelation:

I know absolutely nothing about personal fitness.

So, I'm officially soliciting help from you guys. Got any workout tips? Dietary advice? If you have any exercise routines, or know of any superfoods that might help me, please comment here or shoot me an e-mail. Whatever. I know that my approach to diet and exercise depends on what kind of results I want, but that's kind of hard to put into words. So instead of describing what I'm looking for, I've decided to include this picture:



Yes, I am willing to substitute muscles for machine guns or chains.

Dear Secret Service...

It crossed my mind that in the interest of keeping my ass out of Guantanamo, I should answer a couple of questions I've already been asked by my oh-so-eager readers.

First: "Do you think the Secret Service/FBI/DHS would consider this blog a threat on the President's health?"

Gee, I hope not, although it's flattering to think that my little blog could strike such terror into the West. In fact, I have no intention of engaging the President in fisticuffs, and I don't actually bear the man any ill will at all.

This blog is just a long-running project to make one of my close friends eat her words. So while the bout between myself and the President is highly hypothetical, the battle with my ex isn't. Moreover, this blog isn't even intended to be a critique of Obama's presidency, although I'm sure I'll have a critical word for him from time to time. He's the center of global politics, so I'm bound to have my misgivings now and again. It comes with the territory.

Second: "I don't get it. If you don't hate the President, why am I reading this? What's this blog 'about?'"

Well, you would know if you read the answer above, dumbass. But to be more specific, this project is more or less all of the following things (in no particular order):
1) A way for me to burn some time this summer.
2) A means of keeping my ass going to the gym, so I can reverse the mole-person transformation effect that law school has had on me.
3) A forum to air my political grievances.
4) A general nerdery, wherein all manner of radness are discussed and debated.

With that said, let's keep our eye on the prize: becoming Jason Bourne.



Later today: I weigh in.

The History of the Challenge

One sunny day in the law library, some friends and I were discussing our venerable presidential history - our favorites, least favorite, best war time, best peace time, greatest sex appeal, etc. As you might expect, this rapidly degenerated into a ninja v. robot thought experiment in which we placed various presidents in hypothetical bouts against others, and ultimately ourselves. The question formulated was this:

Could you beat (President X), at the time he was in office, in a one-on-one street fight?

Numerous "no's" instantly stood out: Andrew Jackson. HW Bush.
Interesting toss-ups were debated: Taft. Nixon.
Few received an unqeustionable "yes": Jimmy Carter.

I posited that our current president fit this last category, and this was met with rather broad agreement. Slight build. Clearly a finesse player. Could not, in any world, be described as "grizzled". Harvard. There was a general consensus that Barack Obama, for all of his charisma and integrity, was nonetheless a clearly beat-uppable president. I later pitched this to my ex-girlfriend-turned-bff who, much to my dismay, laughed me off of the phone, doing unspeakable damage to my vast, overinflated ego.

Now, there's no doubt that her response was fueled by her womanly weakness for the O-Man, in addition to her unyielding allegiance to the left (she makes Justice Stevens look like Nathan Bedford Forrest), but her response sent me reeling nonetheless. What if I'm more out of shape than I thought? What if I really would lose a fight to Barack Obama?

Well, in a couple of months that's going to be a complete impossibility.

This summer, I will be vigorously training my mind, body, and awesome in order to shape myself into a presidential wrecking machine - creating myself anew as a sparkling adonis that is equal parts deadly and rad.

In the words of Theodore Roosevelt: "LET'S DO THIIIIS!!!"
And THAT son of a bitch wore a monocle.

It Begins...

The gauntlet has been cast at my feet, and I have picked it up.

This summer, I will dedicate myself to becoming a finely tuned, sexy, cunning, and sexy president-thrashing machine. That's right. This summer, I will undergo the strenuous physical training and mental preparation required to best the President of the United States in hand-to-hand combat.*

The history of this challenge and its details will follow shortly.

I'm calling you out, Mr. Obama.*

- D

* - Hypothetically.