Suicide Squad Voters Ponder 2016

"Ever dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight? Then YOU'RE FIRED!"

Good evening Arkham! Well, the battle lines have been drawn for the American Voter and suicide looks like a promising third party candidate. WOO HOO HOOOOO!!! Apparently both major parties opted for political seppuku over intelligent design. And ya'll thought I was fucking crazy....



"You like me. You really like me! Whoa put down that ax Bernie..."

We don't get much first run entertainment here in Arkham but this has to be the best horror mini-series I've ever seen.  I can't wait to see how it ends. Bet there won't be a sequel because everybody dies!!! This election kind of reminds me of an installment of "Saw". Give the voter an ideological meat clever and see which part of their common sense they cut off to escape.

There's more infighting going on in both parties than this season's Big Brother. The level of the rhetoric is a little bit lower though. The Penguin and I were having a discussion the other day....well what passes for a discussion with that disgusting, arrogant motherfucker! Just what kind of bumper sticker does either party distribute without totally losing their last shred of dignity?

"Trump: There We Said It What More Do You Fucking Want?"

"Hillary: At Least She's White!"

"Trump: Guaranteed To Save America Or No Money Back."

"Hillary: Lots of Junk in The Trunk But At Least She Ain't Trump!"

"Trump: The Self Loathing Choice You'll Have To Live With The Rest of Your Life"

"Hillary: Providing Bloodless Castration Since 1992"

"Trump: Ummmmm....I'll Just Sit This One Out!"

"Hillary: Did You Get The Email?"


AhHaHaHaaaaHaaaaaa!!!!! Goodnight Arkham and God save America!
 

The Joker's News: "Bill Clinton Declines Vice-Presidency"

Looks like there a new resident here at Arkham. And to think they locked me up as crazy when someone like John Edwards can run for president while doing the Boom-Cha-Ka-Waa-Waa with his campaign filmaker. Edwards' first reaction last fall was to moonwalk and say, "Billie Jean is Not My Lover..EE-HEE!" These days it's more like, "Uh, Oh! But the kid is not my son." Maybe not, but she obviously generated a lot more than campaign footage back in 2006. Far be it from me to gloat over someone else misfortunes in the face of my own overwhelming personal problems. Like restraining my homicidal impulse if we have meat loaf one...more...freakin' time this week. So Boo Hoo, Mr. Edwards. Some of us have real issues.

The problem with incarceration is you tend to lose track of the outside world. Which is why Dr. Crane thought it might be good therapy for me to start up an internal news service. I'm leaning towards "Pox New; Fairly Unbalanced", but just not committed to anything just yet. Not even accuracy. Face it, I'm only doing this for the internet access. How're these loons going to figure out otherwise? 5-4-3-2-1...

And I'm on the air:

"Good evening, Arkham! In today's news, the world still went on without you. On the political front, as Obama makes a dash for the political center, the edges frayed a bit in his search for a running mate. Long-shot contender for VP John Edwards admitted to having sex with a goat. This is not expected to diminish his chances, however, since the goat is refusing to talk about the incident.

In breaking news, Bill Clinton called a press conference this morning to decline the vice-Presidency and offer the position instead to his wife Hillary. Referring to her as, “the people’s choice”, Bill invited Hillary forward amid thunderous applause and falling confetti. “I’m honored to be selected,” gushed Hillary, rushing to the stage to address an adoring crowd of former McCain supporters.

Obama, vacationing with his family in Hawaii, ruined the festivities when his campaign spokesman issued a statement several minutes later declaring, “not only has Bill Clinton NOT been offered the vice-presidential slot, but any substitutions would have been solely at the discretion of the Democratic nominee.” Reports of a leprechaun resembling Bill Clinton manifesting on Obama's shoulder and screaming, "Ye got no choice now, O'Bama!" cannot be substantiated. But insiders report that Obama hasn’t been this angry since the Clintons tried to sell his Chicago home on eBay last month

“Mr. Obama was livid when he heard about all this,” noted one staffer who declined to be identified. “He was white as a sheet... although it does occur to me that if he’d been this upset before the West Virginia primary, he’d have probably gotten more votes,” she mused before being hustled away by NTS agents of Network Taboo Security. "If we hadn't acted quickly, she'd have been in penis territory in no time," said an unidentified NTS agent.

Now to entertainment. At the box office everything SUCKS! Just be glad you have Andy Hardy movies to watch...don't you just want to strangle that little prick...but hey, that's why we're all here, now isn't it?

On the environment, there's bad news and worst news. The bad news, a big volcano somewhere just blew a big hole in the earth's crust and all the world's oceans are draining into it. The worst news, the Molemen are pissed! Back in a 15 seconds with the weather, right after this commerical about Prozac."
This is the best job in the world. I work in a confined, isolate population and the truth is what I say it...is. If  I say there's no smog in Beijing, there's no smog in Beijing! Which reminds me. Time for the weather.

"In the weather today, it's awful out there. Aren't you glad you inside? And coming up in entertainment, Alec Baldwin accepts the vice-Presidency... AH, HA, HAA, HAAA!!! You'll laugh a few years in the future."

A Loon Again (Naturally)

Good evening Arkham! I’m the Joker and all I’ve got to say is I WAS FRAMED!!!! I’m not that vilified fictional character, slandered for decades in film and comics. I’m a real person and much less of a menace than that guy behind you in his Hummer talking on a cell phone. I’m not homicidal unless you cut me off in traffic. And I may be deliriously misguided but even I know that privacy is an illusion. I’m the embodiment of skewed views, sure, but I'm also the antithesis of unrestrained, uninformed opinion, irrelevant dialog and inaccurate depiction. I'm a false impression designed to be extrapolated to disaster. Or I’m a vehicle for satirical discourse, nothing more. But, I'm probably more like you than you think.

I’m locked away here in Arkham, a victim of selective societal censorship and unpopular conjecture. In other words, they shut down my "pyrotechnic art display". What's it take to get some recognition in this town? So after being hidden away here in Arkham for a while, it occurred to me that maybe I need to get a grip on the anger issues. So I've done some reading in the library and decided to explore expressing myself in ways other than a homicidal rage. Dr. Crane suggested I start a blog. He also suggested I "fear him", so the blog seemed like the better alternative.

I've been doing a lot of thinking. Why should I take the blame for my own actions? I’m a scapegoat for the failure of others, placed here by the Batman (who is only an idea, nothing more). We all have a Batman in our midst, the same Batman that puts us all in cages, frightening us into silence from the darkness. Lurking around in ways that would get me arrested. He is Version 6.0 of the Thought Police using the power of alienation to force conformity. And you have admit my purple and green combo isn't exactly comformed dress. My entire universe is Arkham, but at least in this universe, I am surrounded by friends and other misfits. Here they call me "Jack".

Dr. Crane also figured it would be good therapy to express myself through music, so I’d like to give a short concert with just me and my guitar. At first, I was going to play some Ray Charles on the banjo, but I just don’t see that happening now. The banjo is such a happy instrument. You just can’t play the blues on a banjo.

Wanna meet my friends? DO IT!!! I think you might know them anyway. First, I wanna give a shout out to The Riddler who couldn’t be here in person this evening because he’s undergoing shock therapy. But, he wanted me to read this little riddle for you. It sucks, but here goes…um….how is Batman like Pamela Anderson’s boobs? All three are fakes!! BUH-DUMP-BUMP. Give it up for Cat Woman on snare drum, folks...those were her boobs bouncing off of it. Yeah, she’s seen better days.

Yo, Penguin, thanks for being here. Glad to see you’re finally taking a balanced diet and dental hygiene seriously. Whassup Bane, how’s the detox going? Ah, right…one day at a time, Brother….one day at a time.

Not all of them showed up for the show. In the cell next mine is an ex-FBI agent. I talked to him briefly while they were hosing out his cell. He says UFOs kidnapped his sister and the government is covering it up. AH, HA, HAA, HAAAA! Yeah, that fucker is crazy!

Over there is a journalist who wrote a Pulitzer Prize winning expose about disinformation and the public being misinformed, deceived and led into a war. That’s not so bad…but when he takes his glasses off he thinks he’s an alien sent to Earth as an infant to rescue the world. Show him anything green and he flips out. And he discovered the hard way that he wasn’t bullet-proof after they found some disinformation he overlooked in his research. So he had no X- ray vision, either. I can’t figure out why there aren’t more politicians in here. But like beauty, insanity is in the eye of the beholder. And in the Land of the Loon, the sane man is screwed.

Then there’s me, singing folk songs, square dancing and looking like Bob Dylan with green hair. This evening, I wanted to sing a song close to my heart. But they took the real heart away when they arrested me so I'm going to use this rubber facimilie to remind me of homicidal days long past. This is a song I wrote several years ago while I was depressed about global warming. But current events prompted me to re-write it with more relevant lyrics, lyrics which express the human condition today. It’s a song of alienation, isolation, degradation, and finally emancipation.

I...HEY! Get off the stage!!

I prefer to call it the "The Joker’s Blues" but in order to give proper credit to Gilbert O’ Sullivan….let’s call it "A Loon Again (Naturally)".

"In a little while from now

Batman’s gonna learn how

I can gain in wealth and flirt with death

without graphics reading "Bang" and "Pow".

I’ve selected the meds to stop,
and I’m climbing to the top

of the crime scene,
so you’ll know I mean
what I say now that I’m shattered!
Standing in the rain,

with the pain of a smile frozen
upon my face,
as white as paste.
So now no more restraining,
my dark and moody tone
because I’m on my own.

A loon again, naturally.

To think that only yesterday

people thought I dressed too gay,

and looking forward to what Batman would do

to harass me every night and day.

He’d always knock me down.

But, insanity came around

and without so much,
as a mere touch

I splintered into little pieces.

Leaving me to doubt

talk about God and His mercy

'cause if He really does exist

he still lets Batman hurt me.
But, I’m not the only one
who’s harassed just for fun.
A loon again, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts

broken in the world
that can’t be mended.

Left unattended.

What would you do,
if it were you?

(Guitar solo)

Looking back over the years,

I see shattered hopes and fears.

I remember I cried about wounded pride

heaped on me by my callous peers.

And by thirty-five years old

the darkness overtook my soul.

Now I understand as an older man,

all the bullshit I have taken.

So I intend to start
to fix a heart so badly broken

from few supportive words for me,

or kindly deeds unspoken.

That pain is gone away,
and I'm on meds all day,

A loon again, naturally.

A loon again, naturally…"

AH, HA, HAA, HAAA!
Good night, Arkham I’m here all week!!!!
All…week…long!!!!

A Loon Again (Naturally)

Good evening Arkham! I’m the Joker and all I’ve got to say is I WAS FRAMED!!!! I’m not that vilified fictional character, slandered for decades in film and comics. I’m a real person and much less of a menace than that guy behind you in his Hummer talking on a cell phone. I’m not homicidal unless you cut me off in traffic. And I may be deliriously misguided but even I know that privacy is an illusion. I’m the embodiment of skewed views, sure, but I'm also the antithesis of unrestrained, uninformed opinion, irrelevant dialog and inaccurate depiction. I'm a false impression designed to be extrapolated to disaster. Or I’m a vehicle for satirical discourse, nothing more. But, I'm probably more like you than you think.

I’m locked away here in Arkham, a victim of selective societal censorship and unpopular conjecture. In other words, they shut down my "pyrotechnic art display". What's it take to get some recognition in this town? So after being hidden away here in Arkham for a while, it occurred to me that maybe I need to get a grip on the anger issues. So I've done some reading in the library and decided to explore expressing myself in ways other than a homicidal rage. Dr. Crane suggested I start a blog. He also suggested I "fear him", so the blog seemed like the better alternative.

I've been doing a lot of thinking. Why should I take the blame for my own actions? I’m a scapegoat for the failure of others, placed here by the Batman (who is only an idea, nothing more). We all have a Batman in our midst, the same Batman that puts us all in cages, frightening us into silence from the darkness. Lurking around in ways that would get me arrested. He is Version 6.0 of the Thought Police using the power of alienation to force conformity. And you have admit my purple and green combo isn't exactly comformed dress. My entire universe is Arkham, but at least in this universe, I am surrounded by friends and other misfits. Here they call me "Jack".

Dr. Crane also figured it would be good therapy to express myself through music, so I’d like to give a short concert with just me and my guitar. At first, I was going to play some Ray Charles on the banjo, but I just don’t see that happening now. The banjo is such a happy instrument. You just can’t play the blues on a banjo.

Wanna meet my friends? DO IT!!! I think you might know them anyway. First, I wanna give a shout out to The Riddler who couldn’t be here in person this evening because he’s undergoing shock therapy. But, he wanted me to read this little riddle for you. It sucks, but here goes…um….how is Batman like Pamela Anderson’s boobs? All three are fakes!! BUH-DUMP-BUMP. Give it up for Cat Woman on snare drum, folks...those were her boobs bouncing off of it. Yeah, she’s seen better days.

Yo, Penguin, thanks for being here. Glad to see you’re finally taking a balanced diet and dental hygiene seriously. Whassup Bane, how’s the detox going? Ah, right…one day at a time, Brother….one day at a time.

Not all of them showed up for the show. In the cell next mine is an ex-FBI agent. I talked to him briefly while they were hosing out his cell. He says UFOs kidnapped his sister and the government is covering it up. AH, HA, HAA, HAAAA! Yeah, that fucker is crazy!

Over there is a journalist who wrote a Pulitzer Prize winning expose about disinformation and the public being misinformed, deceived and led into a war. That’s not so bad…but when he takes his glasses off he thinks he’s an alien sent to Earth as an infant to rescue the world. Show him anything green and he flips out. And he discovered the hard way that he wasn’t bullet-proof after they found some disinformation he overlooked in his research. So he had no X- ray vision, either. I can’t figure out why there aren’t more politicians in here. But like beauty, insanity is in the eye of the beholder. And in the Land of the Loon, the sane man is screwed.

Then there’s me, singing folk songs, square dancing and looking like Bob Dylan with green hair. This evening, I wanted to sing a song close to my heart. But they took the real heart away when they arrested me so I'm going to use this rubber facimilie to remind me of homicidal days long past. This is a song I wrote several years ago while I was depressed about global warming. But current events prompted me to re-write it with more relevant lyrics, lyrics which express the human condition today. It’s a song of alienation, isolation, degradation, and finally emancipation.

I...HEY! Get off the stage!!

I prefer to call it the "The Joker’s Blues" but in order to give proper credit to Gilbert O’ Sullivan….let’s call it "A Loon Again (Naturally)".

"In a little while from now

Batman’s gonna learn how

I can gain in wealth and flirt with death

without graphics reading "Bang" and "Pow".

I’ve selected the meds to stop,
and I’m climbing to the top

of the crime scene,
so you’ll know I mean
what I say now that I’m shattered!
Standing in the rain,

with the pain of a smile frozen
upon my face,
as white as paste.
So now no more restraining,
my dark and moody tone
because I’m on my own.

A loon again, naturally.

To think that only yesterday

people thought I dressed too gay,

and looking forward to what Batman would do

to harass me every night and day.

He’d always knock me down.

But, insanity came around

and without so much,
as a mere touch

I splintered into little pieces.

Leaving me to doubt

talk about God and His mercy

'cause if He really does exist

he still let’s Batman hurt me.
But, I’m not the only one
who’s harassed just for fun.
A loon again, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts

broken in the world
that can’t be mended.

Left unattended.

What would you do,
if it were you?

(Guitar solo)

Looking back over the years,

I see shattered hopes and fears.

I remember I cried about wounded pride

heaped on me by my callous peers.

And by thirty-five years old

the darkness overtook my soul.

Now I understand as an older man,

all the bullshit I have taken.

So I intend to start
to fix a heart so badly broken

from few supportive words for me,

or kindly deeds unspoken.

That pain is gone away,
and I'm on meds all day,

A loon again, naturally.

A loon again, naturally…"

AH, HA, HAA, HAAA!
Good night, Arkham I’m here all week!!!!
All…week…long!!!!