tah Senator Orrin Hatch made a surprising statement during last week’s hearing on copyright abuse, calling for the remote destruction of home computers used to illegally download music files. Though the senator refused to discuss his motivation, many believe Hatch’s sudden interest in copyright infringement stems from the first-ever illegal download of one of the Republican senator and part-time composer’s musical works earlier this month.

The fateful pirating in question took place when teenager Jody Whiteman of East Plains, New York accidentally downloaded the illegal MP3 file during a sleepover with high school friends. “I was trying to download that new American Hi-Fi song, and it was late so I guess I clicked the wrong thing or something because the next thing I knew, the gayest thing that ever happened was playing through my computer speakers.�

Whiteman had inadvertently downloaded the track “America Rocks!� from Hatch’s album “Heal Our Land,� recorded with composer Janice Kapp Perry in 1997.

“We must’ve played that thing 100 times,� Whiteman confided, wiping a tear from his eye. “It was like that video clip of that fat guy falling off his bike, we couldn’t stop laughing. First it was funny just because it was so bad, but then we realized somebody must’ve did it on purpose, which was even funnier. Then Tom pointed out that somebody had to like it enough to post the MP3 online, and at that point we all really lost it.�

Some speculate the MP3 download must have led to an ironic purchase of the album by one of the high school students involved, tipping off the senator that someone outside of the Hatch family had purchased one of his albums and leading to the discovery of the illegal download.

“If they illegally download a song once, or twice, they’ll get a warning,� fantasized Hatch out loud during the hearing. “But the third time? Zap! We blow up their computer. I don’t know how, maybe a laser satellite or some kind of Mission Impossible button or something. But the point is, we blow it up and they never rape our music again. Do that a few hundred thousand times, and people will start to get the message. We’ll copyright-enforce them back into the stone age.�

Thinking Hatch was kidding, technological consultant Randy Saaf attempted to save face for the entire Republican Party, if not the white race. “No one is interested in destroying anyone’s computer, but we feel that more strict enforcement of—â€�

“I’m interested,� interrupted an annoyed Sen. Hatch, who was not kidding at all. A long, uncomfortable silence followed.

Jonathan Lamy, spokesperson for the Recording Industry Association of America, suggested Hatch was “apparently making a metaphorical point that if peer-to-peer networks don't take reasonable steps to prevent massive copyright infringement on the systems they create, Congress may be forced to consider stronger measures.�

“No,� countered Sen. Hatch. “I’m talking about blowing up fucking computers! Kaboom! Do I have to spell this out in sign language for you people? Kazap! And maybe a little shock or something to put the fear of Jesus into these people.�

After the hearing limped to an awkward conclusion, several senators gathered in the hall to discuss Hatch’s proposal, but to this reporter’s ear it sounded more like a lot of laughing and some gut-busting falsetto renditions of such Hatch classics as “Jesus’ Love is Like a River,� “Someday I’ll Fly,� “I’m Goin’ to Pray for This Land,� “I Am Happy,� and “It’s Not So Easy Growing Old.�

man attacked two flight attendants with wooden stakes on a Qantas airlines flight between Melbourne and Tasmania Thursday, in an apparent attempt to storm the cockpit and crash the plane. The man was subdued by the flight crew and passengers, and subdued so violently that the entire cabin was drenched in vivid red gore after the incident.

According to reports, shortly after the flight took off from Melbourne the man stood, brandished both the wooden stakes and a large antique crucifix, and began to chant in an unknown tongue. When two flight attendants, a man in his 30s and a woman in her 20s, tried to explain to the man that the lavatory would be unoccupied shortly, he attacked both with the wooden stakes. Before he could drive the stakes through their breastplates and into their cold flight-attending hearts, the assailant was quickly overwhelmed by passengers and crew, and according to some reports, drained of all his blood.

"This appears to be a premeditated attack, though not an act of terrorism," stated Transportation Minister John Anderson, a man so uptight his pants were almost sucked into his body by the vacuum created inside his ass.

"The assailant was one and the same, quite an unstable man of not-sane proclivities, given to unprovoked violence," continued Anderson at the half-assed press conference in Melbourne. "Though little is known now and it is far too early to determine his motivations, I think it is safe to say this incident had absolutely nothing to do with vampires."

The minister's comments were met with a confused silence, at which point he walked away from the podium with a seat cushion humorously stuck to his posterior.

Eyewitnesses reported seeing the assailant being led away by the authorities in Melbourne, appearing dazed and a ghostly pale white, yet strangely unweakened by the severe blood loss. His only comments to the press involved a mumbled desire to join the Qantas flight team in the future.

Qantas head Geoff Dixon explained how it was determined that the man planned on crashing the plane despite the fact that he never even made it into the cockpit. "It's simple, really. I mean, what the hell else was he going to do? Ask them to fly over his house and wave to the wife? I think not. The next thing I know you're going to be suggesting the entire Qantas crew are undead Nosferatu-types who sucked this chap dry like a juice box. Ha. Then you'd start insinuating all of Australia has been overrun by vampires, wouldn't you? That's a laugh. What a silly thing you could have said."

"It's clear this bloke was a, a what have you, an Alzheimers, you know, the terrorists, that bunch," said pilot Brett Myers, wiping a dribble of blood off his chin.

Once the flight turned around and landed back in Melbourne, outsiders to Australia were shocked by the violence with which the assailant had been subdued. However, such incidents are not uncommon in the nation, as last year on a Qantas flight an unruly passenger was kicked and stomped by fellow passengers and crew members for over 45 minutes after suggesting a cabin-wide sing along of tunes from Mary Poppins.

"We here in Australia look out for our own," said Dixon, allegedly referring to the passenger uprising but also eyeing this reporter's neck in a thoroughly creepy fashion.

The smell of exhaust, the thunderous roar of engines, the crashing plang of crashes. The air of the Daytona 500 still lingers, and though as of press time I can't declare the winner yet, aren't all we NASCAR fans the real winners?

The think-tank "steering" NASCAR, so to speak, has been increasing efforts to publicize the variety of NASCAR fans there are out there, and to broaden the appeal to those who believe it a sport for the trailer park set. But those like yours truly have known for years that NASCAR speaks volumes about the human condition. Man and machine in a life-or-death struggle against other men and machines; it is the essence of what it means to be a sentient being in the twenty-first century.

It is time NASCAR "outed" those cowardly intellectuals who still publicly deny their affection for the sport of stock car racing. Not to cast unkind dispersions on those doubtful souls, it is difficult to acknowledge just how much we love the thrill of car racing when it is so sadly stigmatized in our culture. The tragic assumption is that NASCAR appeals only to the undereducated working classes, the passive drones lacking upward mobility, the drunken and shirtless, but we can finally reveal the brilliance of NASCAR and our enthusiasm for it now that we've found safety in numbers.

I remember as a youngster, sitting in front of the fire and listening to the melodious voice of announcer Rudy Skaggs as he provided commentary on the Daytona 500 over the a.m. radio. My parents listened along as well, smiling joyfully, as mother carved her decorative wax candles and father worked on his novel. Though I mostly cheered for Dale Earnhardt (before he was Dale Earnhardt Sr.), I admit it was a joy simply to hear anyone win.

The ecstasy never diminished. I went away to college at Cornell and labored intensely toward my philosophy degree, but the weekends were spent with my NASCAR enthusiasts group, other students of philosophy, the humanities, the sciences, business, or refrigeration repair, watching the bouts on the television and discussing the nature of modern man and his relations to technology, vis-à-vis the loss of humanity and the mistakes of unwelcome pit stops later in the race, all between commercials, of course.

Would that I were one of those pilots of the gods! That could accelerate my own chariot adorned with logos by Quaker State and Tide, edging ahead of the greatest athletes of all time, such as Richard Petty and A.J. Foyt. If only the nerves of steel were mine, the lightning reactions needed I owned, and I had a driver's license. But lacking these, I am fortunate like the rest of us to be a spectator at this, the greatest test of human and engine endurance the world has ever seen.

The Daytona 500 of 2004, as tradition dictates, has drawn the most notable celebrities. Ben Affleck, LeAnn Rimes, and the president George W. Bush. Only the noble game of stockcar racing could attract such individuals of diverse backgrounds and professions—the men and women at the top of their respective fields. Of course, in the presence of such newspaper-worthy names, other intellectuals are unfortunately disregarded, but I understand many others turned out for the event. Placido Domingo, Susan Sontag, Joyce Carol Oates, George Will, Noam Chomsky, Ben Kingsley, John Updike, Ralph Nader, all are fans of the sport of kings. Unsurprisingly, I might add; for aren't we all?

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