ust when you thought the limits of science were established—girl, look out! Here comes Senator Rick Santorum of Pennsylvania, the politician who magically defies the change of time and remains stuck in the 1950s.

Santorum alerted the rest of America, scared and turbulent, but still living in the year 2003, when he stated in an interview printed last Monday that the Supreme Court would endorse incest and other immoralities if they overturned a Texas sodomy law the Court is hearing.

"If the Supreme Court says that you have the right to consensual sex within your home, then you have the right to bigamy, you have the right to polygamy, you have the right to incest, you have the right to adultery. You have the right to anything," said the senator living in the decade of the TV dinner and TV westerns.

Some Democrats and fellow Republicans have denounced the senator's remarks and asked for his resignation, worried that living in a time period of 50 years ago would interfere with Santorum's ability to keep informed in current issues. Key Republican party leaders have guaranteed to study the senator closely and divulge his knowledge of important government and cultural stuff.

"I guarantee you," said a personal aide to Santorum, Jeff Richards, "the senator is in full control of his faculties and knows what year it is. I can't explain any more than that. I've seen the TV on in his house, I assume he must get the news and the usual programs… he's just somehow filtered them out." Girl, I tell you, that Richards gave this reporter the eye. Beep beep on the gaydar, that's all I'm saying.

Few from the scientific community have stepped forward to explain, though a group at Harvard's Department of Quantum Mechanics are posing theories of collapsing personal wormholes. Psychologists from around the world are seeking medical background from Santorum's representatives, particularly interested in previous incidents of head trauma or hallucinations. The extremely early onset of Alzheimer's has not been ruled out.

Other theories have been offered, but not yet fully explored. My girl Ladyboy Smacky, she say Santorum look just like this guy pick her up three nights in a row last April and call her "Mommy" while she dress up like Martha Washington, but that guy had a mustache and was in Frisco, but she swear that dude Santorum so deep in the closet he sittin' on the box to a Colecovision.

Despite the failure to pinpoint the source of Santorum's confusion, others are stressing the importance of bringing him up to date with the year 2003 before it becomes a problem.

"We have 50 years of history to cover with the senator, so obviously we'll have to pick highlights," said Professor of Cultural Studies at the University of Chicago and real sweetie Isis Oviate. "We should start with telling him World War II is over—more than likely he knows, but we shouldn't take chances. The geographical maps and political make-up of the world should be explained slowly so he knows all of that, about Stalin's death and, eventually, the fall of the Soviet Union, of course. We would hate to offend an ally with some disparaging remarks against Russia. We'll tell him all about Iraq, but one thing at a time. Take it slowly. The sexual revolution alone ought to leave him quaking in his wingtips. Maybe we'll just sum up the Kinsey Report and see how he responds to that."

uestions raised in the past week about the conflict of interests between Vice-President Dick Cheney and contracts awarded to his former firm Halliburton and its subsidiaries have given Democrats a weak spot in criticizing the information. The controversy rose to attention upon revelation that a 2-year contract with Halliburton subsidiary Kellogg Brown & Root to put out oil fires, repair the Iraqi oil infrastructure, and clean up oil spills could mean as much as $7 billion for the company, which Cheney was CEO of for five years before becoming the president's running mate.

The company denies any impropriety, despite senior Democratic Congressman saying the lack of any competitors and the multi-year nature of the contract is highly questionable. Halliburton spokespeople say the $7 billion return is a cap, and the real return will be as little as $490 million. The distinct sound of giggling was possibly in the background.

Deeper investigation has raised more issues with the Halliburton-Cheney connection. Subsidiary company Orlando-Dawn is the leading maker of yellow ribbons, and had been going out of business for nearly ten years before the Bush administration began its military efforts against Iraq, leading some Democrats to claim Cheney's manipulation has again resulted in increased profits for his former company.

Other beneficiaries of the Iraq war have been Keymint, makers of pro-Bush picket signs; Igog, makers of the "Dunk Saddam!" online video game; and the Stubborn Jackass country, which makes American flag-themed apparel and T-shirts reading "These colors don't run"—all Halliburton subsidiaries.

"It's hardly surprising our interests would match those of the Vice-President's," defended Halliburton spokesperson Mitchell Weeze, a tall oily guy on the thin side with a mysterious lazy eye. "Vice-President Cheney and Halliburton made for a mutually beneficial alliance because we believe in the same things—America, the military, and imposing justice on other countries. It doesn't mean anything improper occurred in the administration's decision-making or the contracts awarded our companies."

Harder to explain were other revelations later in the week, such as the contract proposed that Halliburton would paint the White House a new off-white eggshell color over the summer. The contract, which was discussed and had not been awarded yet, was even more questionable since none of Halliburton's subsidiaries are involved in professional house painting. An administration insider said the exclusive contract would have been for $120 million and would have required Halliburton executives to paint the White House over a series of weekends off the company clock.

The same insider, a man who identified himself as Donald Rumsfeld's brother Sammy, said perks of future contracts would include extra keys to the White House doors and the privilege of crashing in spare White House bedrooms whenever board members were in town—or on the floor, if that's cool with them.

Cheney responded quickly, with Cheney-grade antagonism.

"All of those purported benefits are completely, utterly fabricated," said Cheney in a press release Friday. "The deal was they could stay in the guest bungalow out back. If they think we're giving up White House bedrooms for less than 7-figure campaign donations, they're out of their corporate mind."

Who knew such fantastic fun existed on the silver screen? I didn't, that's for sure. Yes, Rok Finger enjoys the occasional movie like any good working-class drone, but movies are usually just boring things that could happen to me at any time, with more attractive people and well-edited endings. This movie was completely different, more magic and swords, less face-on-face kissing. It comes from the most unlikely source of entertainment, too: A book.

That's right, books. Before seeing the movie I believed books were only delivery systems for cult manifestos or dangerous statistics. Turns out there are whole other worlds in some books, and some of those worlds are worth reading about. I can't say that is the case for this Lord of the Rings world, Ringworld, but it was certainly worth a good three hours of my life. I only wish there were another three hours of the film, and possibly another three after that. But for now I'm happy such a strange fantasy was put on the screen.

I've never been too big a fan of independent films, even having starred in one (Piglet: When is that getting released, by the way?) but this was top-notch. My understanding, courtesy of Griswald Dreck, is that they filmed the movie entirely in New Zimbabwe, where smallish African workers will act as props for mere pennies a day, which really kept the cost of the film down. Beautiful country, too, besides the ever-present mountain of death.

The story is the greatest ever told, besides anything with Jesus in it. It's about four brave height-challenged men who leave their normal egalitarian existence behind so that they can get rid of a gaudy piece of jewelry, a big fat ring-slash-bracelet with some kind of Esperanto on the side. At first their only comrade is a senile old wizard with a narcotics problem, but he is quickly outwitted by another dope-smoking old wizard, and the undertall men are on their way again all by their lonesome.

At this point it gets a little boring, with some hulking tall guy barging his way into the picture. Then he and the four mid-size heroes join up with a motley crew of Dungeons & Dragons fans: An extremely tall, probably gay elf; a stout and brave dwarf, hearty like the mountain rock he was forged from; and another hairy tall loaf of muscle. Besides becoming another height-oriented film at this point, there's still plenty of genuine moments of great action.

Occasionally the movie gets bogged down in special effects, Ringworld lingo, and prosthetic snouts, but the overall message comes through loud and clear: Virtuous men of any size will triumph over ambiguous dark entities that seek to take over the world. It just requires being able to dispose of tacky pimp jewelry before pig-men and ghosts can destroy you.

The director, whatever his name is, has laid out the heart and mind of the next century before us. The movie has found resonance in the post-September 11^th era, where vague black clouds of villains known as terrorism can send fear through the hearts of even the shortest of men. But like the heroes of the movie, the what do you call, Hobnots, we shall find the strength to endure.

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