Elmer Gantry: Party the Third

Here's part three of our harrowing adventure.

"Mornin' Elmer," said Mrs. Peach.

"Well g'mornin' Mrs. Peach," said Elmer. "What can I do ya fer today?"

"Well, shucks, Elmer, Jeffrey got 'bout 500 head o' Angus a month er two back, but now they's got theyselves a terrible case o' the worm."

"The worm?"

"Yup."

"Well I'll be."

"So what we was inclined to do is to get us some o' that talcumizer whatchacallit."

"That stuff? Oh, now you don't want that. What I reckon that there herd needs is a good, hard rain. Aint nothin that talcumizer whatchacallit's gonna do."

The store windows exploded in a horizontal rain of glass shards. Elmer's chest was ripped open, bone splinters and organ bits splattering all over the room. The entire store was bombarded by shell after deadly shell. All that was left standing when the bullets stopped and the smoke cleared was Mrs. Peach, who was completely unscathed. She turned away from what was left of the counter to face what was left of the entrance. Silhouetted there by the setting sun was a creature whose name was known in terror throughout the land: Civil War.

"Git out the way, ya damned hoss!" yelled a scratchy voice from behind the terrible horse, "you're blockin my sunset." The feared Civil War moved and there, silhouetted by the setting sun, was a man whose name was commonly misspelled throughout the land: Excise Taxation (loid brijez).

"Git up, stranger," said he.

"I am up."

"GIT UP!"

"Okay, okay."

"C'mere. Come with me."

"Where we goin?"

"Just c'mon!" Lloyd made Mrs. Peach climb on Civil War, and he tied him there. Civil War shuddered in titillation at the long-forgotten feel of a female rump on his back. Lloyd led Civil down main street, winking at him, and turned right. Mrs. Peach noticed that as he turned, the setting sun turned with him, so he always walked into it. Clever trick, thought Mrs. Peach.

"So what's yer name, pardner?" asked Lloyd.

"My name is Harriet Peach."

"Harriet."

"Yes."

"Wait here, Ethel."

"Harriet!"

"Yup." He pulled out a canvas sack full of dynamite and an uzi, and tied Civil War to a post. He then began shooting down everyone out and about in Tucson that morning'men, women, children, she-males, dogs, snakes, cacti, horses, goats, pigs'all of them riddled with bullet holes and gushing thick red blood when he was finished. Then he pulled out the dynamite and demolished every building in the town. All that was left standing when the explosions stopped was a wood post and the hoss, Civil War, with Harriet Peach on top. Harriet was staring at the old man in horror.

"Sorry to kill your town, Megan, but it had to be done someone might have seen us."

Harriet's eyes narrowed. "You reprehensible man. You slime!" She started jerking and writhing around on Civil War, trying to loosen her bonds. The hoss closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

Thus Concludeth Part the the Third

Elmer Gantry: Part the Second

We've been granted permission to publish the rest of Elmer Gantry, a great work by a great man. Without further dilatory tactics, we bring you Part the Second of this amazing fable.

By Flog

A BRIEF INTERLUDE ABOUT CHEESE!
CHEESE, CHEESE, WHAT A BREEZE
WITHOUT CHEESE I'D PROBLY [sic] FREEZE
C'MON, PLEASE, GIMME THE KEYS
GIMME THE KEYS AND DON'T CUT THE CHEESE
TILL I COME A-RAMBLIN' HOME

About twenty miles down the long dusty trail that leads from Istanbul to Tucson, in a dry, rocky arroyo with the nuclear sun beating down, Civil War came to a stop.

"Giddyup, buddy!" said Excise Taxation. Civil War didn't budge. "C'mon, giddyup!" He dug his razor-sharp spurs into the horse's flanks, but that old cuss wouldn't move an inch.

After several minutes of "Giddyups!" Lloyd gave up and got off of the horse. He mosied over to the shade of a juniper and sat down in the dirt.

Taking a swig from his flask, he cursed under his breath at that "durn hoss." Soon he dozed off in the tranquilizing heat.

When he woke, the sun was nearly on the horizon and several vultures were circling. Civil war stood perfectly still, staring straight ahead, exactly where he had stopped.

Lloyd stared at him, shrugged, pulled out an elephant gun, and aimed it at the sky. He set his sights on a buzzard directly overhead and fired. The center of the bird vaporized, leaving only the legs, wings, and head to hang motionless in the air for a perfect moment before tumbling to his feet. He watched the buzzard parts lie on the ground, gushing blood, the eyes staring up at him. Good shot, but not enough meat. He pulled out a 50-caliber artillery cannon. Time for a slow elk.

He spotted a group of them at a water hole around the bend, and quietly set up the gun's tripod and engaged the 500-round ammo belt. He clicked off the safety, took aim, and let fly.

Mwoor is not intelligent. Most cows aren't. All she really understands is water, food and shit. So when she looked up from the water hole to see the eyeball of her friend Murrhoor explode in a spattering of gooey red stuff, and saw Murrhoor's head get ripped apart bit by explosive bit, all she knew how to do was run.

Excise Taxation stopped shooting. He mosied over to the headless cow; he poked it with his boot. That'll do, he thought. Then a frown seized his face. Pulling a glock from his boot, he squeezed off five rounds at a clump of grass nearby. Gotta have you vegetables.

Munching on the buzzard wings and the grass, Lloyd skewered the cow over the juniper tree, which he had doused with gasoline and set on fire. Still his horse stood there. When satisfied with the fire, he mosied over to the horse and punched him in the jaw. No reaction. Oh, well.

When he awoke the next morning, at sunup, Civil War stood directly over him, staring into his face. He looked worried.

"Lloyd?" he said plaintively. "Lloyd, I'm troubled by something."

"What the hell is it?"

"I'I think I'm bestial."

"Well, of course you're a hoss."

"No, I mean I think I'm into, you know, bestiality."

A curious crinkle came across Lloyd's forehead. "Oh really? What kind of critters ya dig?"

"People."

"Oh, my." He pondered this for a moment. "Not guys?"

"Heavens no! Lloyd, you'd know that by now."

"Suppose I would. Well, you've got to make peace with this. I'll always be loyal to you, Civil, I just want you to understand I don't care what you do in the stables after dark, because you're a damned good hoss."

"You mean that, Lloyd?"

"Course I mean it. Now c'mon, hoss, let's hit the trail."

"Okay."

Thus Concludeth Part the Second

Oh, Lordy!

Thanks to a slow morning at work, Washington Canard and Blog, I now have a new favorite J-Pop Band: PuffyAmiYumi.

How appropriate is it that their first album is named Nice. You know what that is? That's nice! In fact, it's hilarious!

It's Midnight in Chicago ...

... and I can't get my dick out of this cow.

Hmm, but seriously. It's amazing what you can turn up when you can't sleep. I unearthed another load of crap that I thought was gone forever after my hard drive crashed a few years back. This time: old e-mails!

With apologies to Flog, I bring you this blast from the past:

"Elmer Gantry" is a word heard round the world, according to our old friend Wolf the Bear. He's full of incorrect assumptions. I, for one, have never heard the word "Elmer Gantry" before in my life. It's not even a word. It's a name. But we'll forgive Wolf the Bear, as long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't spell it "bagle."

I know right now you are sitting there, at home in Yakima, and you are reading this, and you are saying (in your mind so your family doesn't stare at you again) "Gee, man, I really want to know what Wolf the Bear's up to now. And how is old Excise Taxation (pronounced loid brijez) doing, anyway? Is he still dead?"

Well, Excise Taxation, last seen sailing into the sunset aboard the vessel "Anemia," is no longer dead. He is currently a pugilist struggling to survive on the rough-and-tumble streets of Istanbul . Wolf the Bear, however, currently is hanging out on this very page; he is right next to the word "Istanbul."

So you're saying to yourself, "Hey, Billyum, gosh, how did Wolf the Bear get so damned small, black-and-white, and 2-dimensional?"

Fool! Can't you see the bigger picture? I'm trying to tell a story here, so PLEASE, stop interrupting me with your worthless little questions! It doesn't matter how he got that way. He is that way. And he can't go on like that. He's stuck on this page, and he is really pissed. He wants to get off. Wouldn't you?

So he calls up Excise Taxation, and he says, "Hey! Lloyd! Help me out here, man! I'm a bit stuck!"

Lloyd says "Hang on, buddy! I'll be right there."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay."

A long silence, "So, how ya been doin?"

"Oh, you know, the old routine."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"Yep."

"Yep."

"So, you?"

"Oh, I'm, I'm doin' all right."

"Hmm."

"Yeah."

"I see."

We could continue listening to their conversation. It goes on like that for about 112 minutes. But we'll skip ahead a bit (and inexplicably change
tenses) to where

Excise Taxation quit his job, threw down his gloves, and walked outside.

He mosied on over to his house, threw on his chaps, loaded his six six-shooters with gold bullets, strapped on his gun-belt, set on his ten-gallon, grabbed a can of worms, and mosied out the door. He mosied to his stable and saddled up his hoss, Civil War. With an effortless mount, he rode out of the stable, down the dusty main street, and out of Istanbul forever.

Seconds later, it blew up.

Some French Open Thoughts

On the third day at Roland Garros, some random thoughts.

• First Andre Agassi and now Justine Henin-Hardenne. What is going on here? Viral infection or not shouldn't Justine be able to put away a qualifier? And is this the end for Agassi? Unless he pulls a Pete Sampras 2000 perhaps it is. I don't see him winning on grass this year. His last hurrah will have to wait for the hard court season.
• More on JHH. I never really liked her but you don't like top players bowing out in the second round. Here's what boggles the mind, though. It was her service game that killed her. And I don't mean she had a weak Elena Dementieva serve, either. I mean she wasn't getting anything close to being in. She trailed 4-1 in the first set and then bounced back to make it 5-4. With a chance to serve out the set she double faulted. At 5-6 she double faults again. Second round she goes down 2-0 and then wins four games in a row to make it 4-2. At 4-3 she double faults to make it 4-4. Then at 4-5 she double faults to give her opponent the match points. Maybe it's a good thing she lost in the second round. Wouldn't have been pretty to see what Serena or Amelie would have done with that.
• One more observation on JHH. I never really liked her. But after this I'm starting to empathize a little. Actually, tennis is weird for me that way. I never really liked Hingis until she started getting outlasted by the big girls. Ditto Serena and Venus until they started getting injured.
• The WTA is starting to look more like a hospital than a tennis tour. What's going on with all the viral infections, foot injuries, torn phooeyhoos and such? I still blame it on the terrible scheduling. Pace those tournaments apart people!
• ESPN has the most terrible tennis coverage of any station. Sure, they're one of the only networks that show it but they suffer from that terrible Olympics syndrome where they think all we want to see are the Americans. I'm sorry, but I'd rather see a good third round match between two unknowns than watching Serena beat up on some poor girl.
• Maria, we love you and all — but what is going on with that outfit?
  
  
• With JHH out of the picture, is this finally the time for Amelie Mauresmo? Venus has a pulled ankle. Serena isn't 100% healthy and has been dropping matches to sub top 10 players, and Lindsay Davenport isn't in the best shape of her life. Jennifer Capriati could give her a run for her money but remember that Mauresmo beat her in Rome. The only question, as John Wertheim asks is what happens when it's the semifinals and she's 4-4 in the third set?
• Wertheim has given Dementieva a lot of guff for her serve but his latest is a zinger: "Moving at the speed of your average postal worker, that serve will preclude her lasting beyond the middle weekend." So true! And if you've ever seen the infamous Dementieva serve then you know the veracity of that statement.
• Why is Andy Roddick ranked 2nd in a tournament where he has never advanced passed the first round? I know all about selective seeding and all but this is a bit ridiculous.
• It's too bad that Sesil Karatancheva's age prevents her from attending Roland Garros. We could use some more trash talking on the red clay.

Teenage Movie Smackdown

Okay. I admit it. I have a soft spot for really cheesy teen movies. Ever since The Breakfast Club there's been a dark place in my heart for them. As Fry astutely put it, "I can't wait until I'm old enough to feel ways about stuff."

So on a stormy Friday night I went out to see Mean Girls and liked it. Okay, you can stop laughing now. I'm not talking Late String Quartets great or anything but much better than some of the dribble that has been pumped out lately.

Overall, it suffered from a slow middle act and a little excessive cheese near the end because of its source material, Queen Bees and Wannabes, but even as it was being cheesy, it didn't take itself too seriously. Take the scene where the Tina Fey character must lecture the students on excessive gossiping. My heart sunk when our narrator began quoting facts from the book while trying to work it into the story. This could have turned into the Saturday morning ABC movie but it didn't. It even ended with one of the most hilarious sequences in a teen movie.

Then there is the prerequisite soapbox speech at the end of the movie. Again, in anticipation, I began to grown. But then we get this (I'm paraphrasing here): "Half of you hate me and the other half voted for me because they think I shoved a girl in front of a bus. That's not good ..." Nice! Taken with the sarcastic and deadpan delivery of a few well placed lines by Tim Meadows and you've turned a potentially horrible scene into pure gold.

But was it as good as Clueless, the teen movie to which all others must be measured? Not quite. But very close.

Phooeyhoo's Grade: A-

And now for the list that you thought you'd never see: Phooeyhoo's list of the top 5 teen movies. These are also irrelevant popcorn teen movies, by the by, which is why you don't see The Ice Storm, Pleasantville, Election, and Ghost World.

1. Clueless


2. Mean Girls


3. The Breakfast Club


4. Bring it On


5. Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Notable Mentions: Pretty in Pink, Heathers, Sixteen Candles.

A Song For Portland!

Flog™ writes that my beloved hometown of Portland, Oregon now has a song to its name. It's pretty good too if you can find a copy of it.

Now if only somebody would write a song for Hue, Vietnam.

Beginner's Mind

My practice was becoming rather stale and impure a few weeks ago and I happened upon this passage from Shunryu Suzuki. No matter what your practice is, I hope that it helps you as it did me.

BEGINNER'S MIND: In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few.

People say that practicing Zen is difficult, but there is a misunderstanding as to why. It is not difficult because it is hard to sit in the cross-legged position, or to attain enlightenment. It is difficult because it is hard to keep our mind pure and our practice pure in its fundamental sense. The Zen school developed in many ways after it was established in China, but at the same time, it became more and more impure. But I do not want to talk about Chinese Zen or the history of Zen. I am interested in helping you keep your practice from becoming impure.

In Japan we have the phrase shoshin, which means "beginner's mind." The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner's mind. Suppose you recite the Prajna Paramita Sutra only once. It might be a very good recitation. But what would happen to you if you recited it twice, three times, four times, or more? You might easily lose your original attitude towards it. The same thing will happen in your other Zen practices. For a while you will keep your beginner's mind, but if you continue to practice one, two, three years or more, although you may improve some, you are liable to lose the limitless meaning of original mind.

For Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic. Our "original mind" includes everything within itself. It is always rich and sufficient within itself. You should not lose your self-sufficient state of mind. This does not mean a closed mind, but actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's mind there are few.

If you discriminate too much, you limit yourself. If you are too demanding or too greedy, your mind is not rich and self-sufficient. If we lose our original self-sufficient mind, we will lose all precepts. When your mind becomes demanding, when you long for something, you will end up violating your own precepts: not to tell lies, not to steal, not to kill, not to be immoral, and so forth. If you keep your original mind, the precepts will keep themselves.

In the beginner's mind there is no thought, "I have attained something." All self-centered thoughts limit our vast mind. When we have no thought of achievement, no thought of self, we are true beginners. Then we can really learn something. The beginner's mind is the mind of compassion. When our mind is compassionate, it is boundless. Dogen-zenji, the founder of our school, always emphasized how important it is to resume our boundless original mind. Then we are always true to ourselves, in sympathy with all beings, and can actually practice.

So the most difficult thing is always to keep your beginner's mind. There is no need to have a deep understanding of Zen. Even though you read much Zen literature, you must read each sentence with a fresh mind. You should not say, "I know what Zen is," or "I have attained enlightenment." This is also the real secret of the arts: always be a beginner. Be very very careful about this point. If you start to practice zazen, you will begin to appreciate your beginner's mind. It is the secret of Zen practice.

Indie Rock Theme Song From Hell?

I settled down to my Replay TV this evening to watch the latest episode of Harvey Birdman Attorney at Law but the Cartoon Network Gods were not with me.

Instead, I got an episode of some show called Sealab 2021. The show was blah. What it did have going for it was this. The catchiest theme song to a cartoon show (heck, to any show) I have ever heard. Argh! I can't get it out of my head!! Yet, I have an ineffible urge to find an extended cut. Argh!!

The Future of phooeyhoo.com

If you haven't noticed, I'm going into a bit of a pre-summer shutdown when it comes to posts on this web log. Posts will most likely be fewer and farther between than ever before. My goal is still to get out the last edition of Whisking with Chlmaydia before the end of July. My time is probably better spent there anyway.

In terms of the future of this site, it looks about 50-50 right now. It will continue until at least the end of August while I still have a DSL line to run it off of. Then things become foggy and depend on the threads of Fate. My Michigan pad may come with free wireless Internet, in which case it would be impossible to run this site because I would not have a public IP address. I suppose I could invest in cable modem or DSL but who knows if those providers will let me run a server off of their connections. So stay tuned, but don't hold your breath.

The Chicago-Style Hotdog

Before I came to Chicago my ingenuous mind thought that a hot dog consisted of nothing more than a bun, a half-cooked brat, and some ketchup. This indigent dog was formed from the memories of bad company picnics, supermarkets that decided to expand by setting up outdoor dog stands, and Portland Beavers games. I had no idea that a hot dog could be so much more.

Then, one magical day at a Cubs game, the light was revealed to me. A bad Kerry Wood outing against some Central Division bottom feeders (hmm, come to think of it, we were bottom feeders as well back then) gave me wanderlust and I wanted a snack.

I was hesitant as my "hot dog with everything" was being prepared. I usually had my salad on a separate plate, not on my dog. It was piled high with onions, tomatoes, hot peppers, and a pickle spear that extended the entire length of the dog. It was huge. I could barely fit it into my mouth. Surprisingly, it was heaven. The flavors blended effortlessly together. The tomato and pickle meshed with the brief heat of the peppers and the cooked animal flesh. Needless to say, I had no fear of contracting mono on that day. Hot dogs would never be the same for me. All other types of dogs fall to the might of the Chicago-Style dog.

In retrospect, Chicago is the perfect city to embrace this type of dog. It takes no guff from outsiders who would adulterate its creation. In what other city would patrons give an outsider an inimical look for asking for ketchup on a dog? These are my kind of people!

To prepare your own Chicago-Style hot dog start with a steamed poppy seed bun and add a cooked Vienna beef hot dog. (Sorry, no substitutions! Keep your turkey dogs, tofu dogs, health dogs, etc. for your crappy company picnics. They're not allowed at this party!) The method of cooking the hot dog has been a matter of much debate. Purists believe that it should only be cooked in hot water but I'll leave the cooking up to you. You can boil it, char-grill it or, hell, deep fat fry the sucker if you're in the mood. Top the dog with (in this order) yellow mustard, sweet green relish, chopped white onion, two slices of tomato, marinated hot peppers, and a long vertical slice of a dill pickle. Finally, sprinkle on a dash of celery salt to finish your creation and, as Alton says, you will be rewarded. And, needless to say, if you even think about adding ketchup to your Chicago-Style dog I will find out about it and come into your kitchen and beat you with Chlamydia.

The System Works

Ha! Thanks to boisterous fans and the New York Yankees, baseball has reversed itself on the planned base ads.

Spider Man on the Base Pads

June 11th will mark another new low in the baseball world. Under a deal with Columbia pictures, ads for the movie Spider Man 2 will be placed on the base pads. You heard me. The base pads. Not the on-deck circles, not the backstops but the base pads. Why don't we just start embroidering company logos on the balls themselves?

What a sad commentary on the state of baseball. According to Bob DuPuy: "This was a unique chance to combine what is a sort of a universally popular character and our broad fan base, including the youth market we're trying to reach out to."

So sorry but I must disagree. You don't reach out to the youth market by putting little red spidery squares on the base pads. You reach out to the youth market by lowering ticket prices so that parents can afford to take their kids to the ballpark. You reach out by adopting real rules on steroid use — none of this 150 strikes and you're out bullshit. You reach out by making sure players are accessible to the fans. You reach out by saying screw the advertising industry, we're going to have baseball games at times when kids can go to or watch a game and still be in school the next day.

When I was in grade school watching Cubs games on television, my only dream in the world was to live next to Wrigley Field and go to baseball games. I guess dreams do come true, in a way. I live near Wrigley Field now but the only baseball games I've been to are free company sponsored ones. I don't expect that to change anytime soon.

Sports Night Observations

Some random thoughts while switching between the Spurs-Lakers game and the Cubs game.

• How many more great pitching performances are the Cubs going to blow this year? Why does their vaunted offense only engage when they're up by 10? Losses like this are going to look awfully ugly in September.


• On that same note, I've been a Cubs fan since 4th grade when I was sick at home with mono and the only thing I could do was watch Harry Carrey announce Cubs games. But I've never gotten emotionally involved with them. Does my pre-game criticism indicate that I'm starting to get attached? Maybe it's a good thing I'm leaving Chicago.


• TNT coverage of the playoffs is off and on. The montages before games and especially at half time are horrible. But Charles Barkley is hilarious. Can we get this guy his own show? And when did Marv Albert join TNT? Didn't he get thrown out of announcing after the incident a few years ago? And is it just me or did the guy that did the Minnesota game last night (don't know his name -- and it's not Doug Collins) sound like an Albert sound alike?


• Was Clyde Drexler being paid by David Stern to end every sentence with, "The NBA is the greatest game in the world!"? It's good to see Clyde, though. Those clips of him swooping to the basket in a Blazer uniform bring back a lot of good memories.


• These NBA players trying to court the Red Auerbach trophy ads are horrible. Who thought they would be a good idea?


• And speaking of repeating stupid ads, the McDonalds ad for griddle cakes is really annoying too. Wait, didn't those things get a nasty review from X-Entertainment? Yes, they did! Except it looks like McDonald's changed the name from McGriddles to griddle cakes. Ewwwww. After reading the reviews, this rose is nasty by any name. Review here.


• I was about to ask if it looks like the Lakers were coming back but I was wrong. Why didn't they play like this against Portland?


• Watching the Spurs, the Blazers have a lot more work to do than they think. It's going to take a lot more than resigning Darius Miles to compete in this conference.


• Am I the only one who isn't too hot on Zach Randolph? I just don't like the way that kid plays. Good numbers but mostly horribly offensively and I still can't get over that play where he refused to set the screen. I hope he proves me wrong.


• Why is Turkoglu chucking up random 3's?


• Why does Albert call Mike Fratello "The Czar"? Who gave him that nickname? Must be the same person with the bright idea of calling Mike Rice the Swami.


• How many pounds has Phil Jackson gained since he started coaching the Bulls in the early 90s?


• Why don't they just change the 3 second rule to the 8 second rule? Oh, yeah. Because then it would unofficially be the 20 second rule.


• Does Karl Malone still think he's passing to John Stockton? Maybe that explains all the turnovers.


• Is Malone turning into a pussy? Three years ago he would have knocked Duncan on his ass on that play. This time, he just ducked away.


• The Czar Talks portion of the show is almost as bad as Steve Jones's keys to the game. "At this time of the season it's all about winning a championship." No. I thought it was all about getting free bagels at the continental breakfast bar.
Posted by phooeyhoo at 9:35 PM | Comments (1) | Sports!

When Will Users Learn?

As Sasser makes its way around the Internet I'm thinking to myself, when will people who use Windows learn to constantly update their Windows update files? This time they gave you three weeks. My guess is that next time you won't have that long. I keep telling people that if you're running windows YOU HAVE to:

1.) Run a windows update every night. (Or automatically have it run.)
2.) Run antivirus software and do a full system scan every night.
3.) Run Adaware every day if possible. At least once a week.
4.) Run a HARDWARE firewall if you have 24/7 access to the Internet.

Yes, I am in the party that believes that even by following these rules you may not survive the big nasty beast that the hackers will undoubtedly unleash upon the world. It's only a matter of time. Think of all the insecure protocols that are freely run everyday. Instant massaging, P2P, hell, even the Preview Pane in Outlook is an exploitation waiting to happen. That last statement wasn't just said for the hell of it, by the way. If you're running Outlook turn OFF the preview pane!

This Just In

Rasheed Wallace is not Jesus.

"I ain't no savior. I ain't Jesus.''

Phooeyhoo: Working For You

Ha, ha! I think that we have finally fixed the dreaded comment throttling problem! Thanks to this web log for finding the problem and providing the solution!!

If you run multiple blogs in more than one timezone with one installation of MT 2.66x, you (or, worse yet, your visitors) may have noticed that commenting on a blog that's farther east will prevent you from commenting on a blog farther west from that same IP address until the local time catches up. Comment on a blog in EST at 5pm PST, and you then have to wait until 8pm PST to comment on a blog in PST on that same installation of MT.

The reason it works that way isn't especially interesting, and I don't see any reasonable way to fix it so that you can still throttle across all the blogs in an installation, but luckily it's simple to fix it so that it only throttles based on how long ago someone at the same IP address commented on the same blog.

It all makes sense! Both this web log and FLOG™ are run off of phooeyhoo.com. This web log is set to Central Standard Time and FLOG™ is set to Pacific Standard Time. Maybe there is order in the universe after all.