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In This Issue

• Abortions: Fun for the Whole Family!
• ROLM Phones Get SEAS Losers Laid
• Drunk Girls Ogle Dead Presidents
• Letters to the Feditor
• ESPN Fills Aching Void... With Sports!
• The Fed Announces Appointment of New Editor in Chief
• Astronauts Astro-Rock
• Fascists Hate Smokers
• Jungle Love, Courtesy of Local "Commie Kikes"
• Boxed Wine
• Nerd Elves Play with Each Other, Nerf Crotch-Bats
• Thinspiration: Looking for Militant Anorexic Love
• Militant Breastfeeding Cult No RateMyRack.com
• Our Militant Roots: A Federalist Article from '87
• Would you like to hear Jerry Falwell's Penis Talk?
• Barnard Girl Speaks... But Who Listens to Those Stupid Broads?
• Perfect Strangers: The Bond That Ties
• Whoroscopes: I See My Future in Your Pants
• Fight for Your Beliefs
• Wacky Fun Whitey with a Mission
• THEY Watch
• The Staff of 18.6

Matt Holden

BOW YOUR HEADS, FILTHY HUMANS!

I don't really remember the Challenger disaster. Maybe because I wasn't born yet. I'm not sure, because I also don't remember when the Challenger disaster actually occurred. Regardless, it sucked a lot apparently-- national tragedy and all. I mean, that was pretty dramatic: the fucker blew up on national television. It was intense.

On the other hand, Saturday was a little bit more bizarre, a little bit more disturbing. Checking my email in the morning, I saw photographs of streaks in a blue sky-- pieces of the Columbia breaking up over Texas. And for the past few days, apparently, little kids all over three states have been, you know, finding "pieces". A leg. A finger. A tile.

There's not a lot we at the Fed take terribly seriously. In fact, we sort of see it as our duty to run straight over the orange traffic cones of good taste when we can. On the other hand, there are some things which even we, irreverent merry pranksters that we are, simply must bow our heads to. And astronauts rank pretty high on that list. Even not considering the fact that rockets are giant phallic symbols, astronauts always have and always will kick ass. And we just wanted to take a moment to honor that.

I mean, yes, NASA is just an excuse for the government to test big missiles (there's a reason why space travel was such a big rivalry during the Cold War, and it's not because we honestly cared that the first chimp in space now lives in Brighton Beach and wears a speedo in the summer and takes his vodka better than your ma). And this mission particularly, had some sorta weird subtexts-- Ilan Ramon, that macho Jew fighter pilot, was conducting tests on spy satellite technology that could see through dust clouds and in sandy environments. You know, like Iraq. Which Ramon bombed a while back on a covert op by the Israelis. And yes, the space program, in the sixties and now, diverts money away from all the things that make life better, like schools and hospitals and the fucking MTA so that they have to charge us $2 a ride.

But cursed as we are to live in an age and a world without pirates, ninjas, cowboys, knights, or green-clad outlaw bands, there's pretty much only one job left that truly exemplifies everything that makes life worth living, the human spirit;, andthe job that we need only to recall the wisdom of children to appreciate. And that is exploring space. Astronauts. Yeah.

I mean, one of the heroes killed on Saturday was Commander William McCool. HIS NAME WAS COMMANDER MCCOOL. Pay respect, motherfuckers. They were astronauts. They were badder than you will ever be.

Please please just imagine those really annoying commercials for Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes with that big gorilla shouting "Bow your heads!"

That's all we wanted to say.