Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Patterns of Perversion
When sixth grade teacher Kelsey Peterson fled to Mexico with her 13 year old "lover" late last month, my heart told me it was time to speak out. But fear told me not to; in today's PC world, there's no sin so great as speaking the truth. Then, last night, I opened the paper to find that Norma Giannini, a 79 year old Roman Catholic nun had pleaded no contest to repeatedly sexually abusing two middle school boys.
But it's time that somebody spoke up for our children, and pulled them out of the clutches of these sick, perverted heterosexual women. Let the "straight" apologists say what they will, but the simple truth of the matter is that most child molesters are heterosexual. The only unusual aspect of these cases is that the perpetrators were female, while the vast majority of child sexual abusers are heterosexual males. And yet we still are asked to put our children in the hands of these heterosexual deviants each day we send them to school.
Well, I've had enough. We all know a pattern when we see one, and while we're doing our best not to bruise these perverts' feelings, our children are being inflicted with emotional scars that will last their entire lives. The scourge of heterosexuality is here, it's among us, and it's time to fight back.
In my own city of San Francisco, families with children are fleeing straight neighborhoods in droves for the gay haven of the Castro. It's easy to see why: A quick search at the Megan's Law website finds just two sex offenders in the Castro -- and one of those is arguably in Noe Valley. The city's other residential neighborhoods amount to little more than dens of these predatory perverts.
Now, I don't mean to imply that all heterosexuals are child molesters. But one cannot overlook the overwhelming evidence that a substantial number of heterosexual males are predatory toward young girls. They buy magazines called "Barely Legal," "Finally Legal" and "Finally 18". They strut around in broad daylight saying things like, "the best thing about high school girls is they stay the same age, while I keep getting older." And, yet, we're supposed to drop our daughters off for volleyball practice with a straight coach and just trust that nothing's going to happen.
"Straight" women, for their part, stop at nothing to indulge the sick hetero-male lust for youth. When the lotions, creams and peels stop working, they resort to having their faces surgically altered to appear younger. Only the Lord knows how much the heterosexual perversion is costing our economy each and every day.
"But, what's the harm?" I hear you asking. "They're not all out there molesting kids left and right. Surely, if some heterosexuals are good teachers and clergy, a few gropings here and there won't hurt."
Well, my friends, pedophilia is not the only plague visited upon us by the heterosexual scourge.
It's time to face the facts: Heterosexual "marriages" -- if you insist upon calling them that -- are tearing this country apart. Half of all these depraved unions end in divorce, tying up the courts and leaving the taxpayers with much of the bill. In cases where one parent is then ordered to pay child support, they are reported to fall behind 68% of the time.
None of this should come as a surprise, when one considers how the average heterosexual expresses "love".
22% of all American women report having been physically assaulted by an "intimate partner". Just 2% of the perpetrators are lesbians. When the heterosexual male tires of beating and battering his "mate," he resorts to more extreme ways of getting his perverse thrills: Domestic violence accounts for 45% of the female murder victims aged 20-24, and an even higher number of women aged 35-49. Don't let your daughter be next.
This is to say nothing of the public health crisis heterosexuality has dragged our once God-loving nation into. A Gonorrhea "superbug" is sweeping the country, rising fastest in heterosexual women. Last year alone, more than 1 million new cases of Chlamydia were reported in the United States, at a cost to taxpayers of nearly $15 billion. The highest rate of infection? Adolescent girls.
Heterosexuality is the most common route of HIV infection worldwide. And America is now facing an upswing in congenital syphilis, which can cause serious birth defects -- even death -- in newborns. It seems that even the womb is no safe hiding place from the evils of heterosexuality.
But children aren't the only victims of heterosexual sex. Childbirth, the largely heterosexual process of bringing a child into the world by expelling it out the mother's vagina, accounted for the deaths of 529,000 women in the year 2000 alone. Medical science has done much to alleviate the suffering caused by this ongoing crisis, but that does nothing for the literally trillions who throughout history have already fallen victim to this nightmare of heterosexual perversion.
But this comes down to a deeper question about who we are, and whether or not we as a society want to progress, or fall like Rome with the rise of the "straight society". After all, does anybody really believe that the great works of western civilization were the products of warped heterosexual minds? That the whole time Michelangelo was sculpting David he was really thinking about tits? Ever heard of someone named "Alexander the Straight"? Of course not.
Think about it: Have you ever known a truly happy "straight" person?
I asked a friend of mine, a professional, if he believes heterosexuals are capable of true happiness. "There's definitely something in the heterosexual psyche that forbids it," he told me. "In all my thirty years of practice, specializing in major emotional disorders, I have never encountered a heterosexual client who was happy, healthy, or had a normal childhood."
"One of my straight clients has thirteen distinct personalities," he added. "You'd think one of them would be happy."
Don't let your child be the next introduced to this sick addiction.
I don't think I need to inform you that there is an open and militant campaign among heterosexual activists to convert otherwise healthy kids to this depraved "lifestyle". You can see how the conspiracy unfolds: The teachers, coaches and nuns first introduce the children to the carnal lust of this depravity. Then, the societal pressure comes saying, "oh, no, it's okay, everybody's doing it -- be proud of your perversion." Then, camps are erected across the country with the sole purpose of brainwashing your child into believing that heterosexuality is an acceptable way of life. If your child hasn't been snared by their teen years, out come the "straight camps" to turn your boys around--or send someone else's out to marry your daughters.
Well, Ms. Peterson, Sister Giannini, I'm on to you. And I say, no more! Enough is enough! We're not going to take it anymore.
I did a lot of research into the heterosexual crisis, and I think I've come up with a few ways you can help ebb the tide of perversion that has left this country soaked in sin:
• Use slang words for heterosexuality interchangeably or in conjunction with ones for every undesirable human trait.
• Try to legislate the problem away. If straight people can't get married, and are forced to endure harassment in the workplace, securing housing and on the streets, there will be fewer of them. It's a long-proven fact.
• Don't allow them on TV. Or, if you do, make sure it's essentially a modern-day minstrel show consisting mostly of jokes about NASCAR, male promiscuity and country music.
• Don't allow them in movies. Or, if you do, make sure they die before the end of Act II.
• Vote only for candidates who make it clear that straight people are second-class citizens.
• Say things like, "Your kind's not welcome here."
• Think about straight sex a lot.
• Wait decades before addressing a health crisis in the straight community.
• Take out your bible and circle thirty reasons all straight people are going to hell. It's easy -- you can start with bacon. Put those reasons in a poorly-Xeroxed pamphlet, an amateurish webpage and several pieces of poster board. You now have your very own 527 Political Action Committee. In three election cycles, you'll have deep pockets and more power over national voter turnout than the DNC and RNC combined.
• Continue having covert straight sex. When it's over, treat your partner very badly. It helps if you call them something heterophobic.
• Make up your own ways. Remember: The more difficult we make their lives, the fewer of them there will be!
I'd like to see some horny, 79-year old nun try to take on a nation of Americans armed with that plan. And, you, little Ms. Teacher's-Got-An-Extra-Special-Pet? Time to run for the border.
But it's time that somebody spoke up for our children, and pulled them out of the clutches of these sick, perverted heterosexual women. Let the "straight" apologists say what they will, but the simple truth of the matter is that most child molesters are heterosexual. The only unusual aspect of these cases is that the perpetrators were female, while the vast majority of child sexual abusers are heterosexual males. And yet we still are asked to put our children in the hands of these heterosexual deviants each day we send them to school.
Well, I've had enough. We all know a pattern when we see one, and while we're doing our best not to bruise these perverts' feelings, our children are being inflicted with emotional scars that will last their entire lives. The scourge of heterosexuality is here, it's among us, and it's time to fight back.
In my own city of San Francisco, families with children are fleeing straight neighborhoods in droves for the gay haven of the Castro. It's easy to see why: A quick search at the Megan's Law website finds just two sex offenders in the Castro -- and one of those is arguably in Noe Valley. The city's other residential neighborhoods amount to little more than dens of these predatory perverts.
Now, I don't mean to imply that all heterosexuals are child molesters. But one cannot overlook the overwhelming evidence that a substantial number of heterosexual males are predatory toward young girls. They buy magazines called "Barely Legal," "Finally Legal" and "Finally 18". They strut around in broad daylight saying things like, "the best thing about high school girls is they stay the same age, while I keep getting older." And, yet, we're supposed to drop our daughters off for volleyball practice with a straight coach and just trust that nothing's going to happen.
"Straight" women, for their part, stop at nothing to indulge the sick hetero-male lust for youth. When the lotions, creams and peels stop working, they resort to having their faces surgically altered to appear younger. Only the Lord knows how much the heterosexual perversion is costing our economy each and every day.
"But, what's the harm?" I hear you asking. "They're not all out there molesting kids left and right. Surely, if some heterosexuals are good teachers and clergy, a few gropings here and there won't hurt."
Well, my friends, pedophilia is not the only plague visited upon us by the heterosexual scourge.
It's time to face the facts: Heterosexual "marriages" -- if you insist upon calling them that -- are tearing this country apart. Half of all these depraved unions end in divorce, tying up the courts and leaving the taxpayers with much of the bill. In cases where one parent is then ordered to pay child support, they are reported to fall behind 68% of the time.
None of this should come as a surprise, when one considers how the average heterosexual expresses "love".
22% of all American women report having been physically assaulted by an "intimate partner". Just 2% of the perpetrators are lesbians. When the heterosexual male tires of beating and battering his "mate," he resorts to more extreme ways of getting his perverse thrills: Domestic violence accounts for 45% of the female murder victims aged 20-24, and an even higher number of women aged 35-49. Don't let your daughter be next.
This is to say nothing of the public health crisis heterosexuality has dragged our once God-loving nation into. A Gonorrhea "superbug" is sweeping the country, rising fastest in heterosexual women. Last year alone, more than 1 million new cases of Chlamydia were reported in the United States, at a cost to taxpayers of nearly $15 billion. The highest rate of infection? Adolescent girls.
Heterosexuality is the most common route of HIV infection worldwide. And America is now facing an upswing in congenital syphilis, which can cause serious birth defects -- even death -- in newborns. It seems that even the womb is no safe hiding place from the evils of heterosexuality.
But children aren't the only victims of heterosexual sex. Childbirth, the largely heterosexual process of bringing a child into the world by expelling it out the mother's vagina, accounted for the deaths of 529,000 women in the year 2000 alone. Medical science has done much to alleviate the suffering caused by this ongoing crisis, but that does nothing for the literally trillions who throughout history have already fallen victim to this nightmare of heterosexual perversion.
But this comes down to a deeper question about who we are, and whether or not we as a society want to progress, or fall like Rome with the rise of the "straight society". After all, does anybody really believe that the great works of western civilization were the products of warped heterosexual minds? That the whole time Michelangelo was sculpting David he was really thinking about tits? Ever heard of someone named "Alexander the Straight"? Of course not.
Think about it: Have you ever known a truly happy "straight" person?
I asked a friend of mine, a professional, if he believes heterosexuals are capable of true happiness. "There's definitely something in the heterosexual psyche that forbids it," he told me. "In all my thirty years of practice, specializing in major emotional disorders, I have never encountered a heterosexual client who was happy, healthy, or had a normal childhood."
"One of my straight clients has thirteen distinct personalities," he added. "You'd think one of them would be happy."
Don't let your child be the next introduced to this sick addiction.
I don't think I need to inform you that there is an open and militant campaign among heterosexual activists to convert otherwise healthy kids to this depraved "lifestyle". You can see how the conspiracy unfolds: The teachers, coaches and nuns first introduce the children to the carnal lust of this depravity. Then, the societal pressure comes saying, "oh, no, it's okay, everybody's doing it -- be proud of your perversion." Then, camps are erected across the country with the sole purpose of brainwashing your child into believing that heterosexuality is an acceptable way of life. If your child hasn't been snared by their teen years, out come the "straight camps" to turn your boys around--or send someone else's out to marry your daughters.
Well, Ms. Peterson, Sister Giannini, I'm on to you. And I say, no more! Enough is enough! We're not going to take it anymore.
I did a lot of research into the heterosexual crisis, and I think I've come up with a few ways you can help ebb the tide of perversion that has left this country soaked in sin:
• Use slang words for heterosexuality interchangeably or in conjunction with ones for every undesirable human trait.
• Try to legislate the problem away. If straight people can't get married, and are forced to endure harassment in the workplace, securing housing and on the streets, there will be fewer of them. It's a long-proven fact.
• Don't allow them on TV. Or, if you do, make sure it's essentially a modern-day minstrel show consisting mostly of jokes about NASCAR, male promiscuity and country music.
• Don't allow them in movies. Or, if you do, make sure they die before the end of Act II.
• Vote only for candidates who make it clear that straight people are second-class citizens.
• Say things like, "Your kind's not welcome here."
• Think about straight sex a lot.
• Wait decades before addressing a health crisis in the straight community.
• Take out your bible and circle thirty reasons all straight people are going to hell. It's easy -- you can start with bacon. Put those reasons in a poorly-Xeroxed pamphlet, an amateurish webpage and several pieces of poster board. You now have your very own 527 Political Action Committee. In three election cycles, you'll have deep pockets and more power over national voter turnout than the DNC and RNC combined.
• Continue having covert straight sex. When it's over, treat your partner very badly. It helps if you call them something heterophobic.
• Make up your own ways. Remember: The more difficult we make their lives, the fewer of them there will be!
I'd like to see some horny, 79-year old nun try to take on a nation of Americans armed with that plan. And, you, little Ms. Teacher's-Got-An-Extra-Special-Pet? Time to run for the border.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
A PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN SPEECH THAT WILL HELP YOU SWEEP THE POPULAR VOTE
- - - -
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Thank you very much for inviting me to your wonderful state here in the great heartland of America but also pretty near the coast. It is an honor to speak from this podium, in this storied courthouse, where so many profound legal judgments were handed down that they more or less canceled each other out.
I am a simple man with a Harvard degree and a solid understanding of tractors. When I was a young boy, my father took me on his knee and told me the principle that has guided my life ever since: "Agree with some things, disagree with other things." His was truly the Greatest Generation, along with a few that came before and a couple that have come since.
Why am I running for president of the United States of America? That's a good question, and perhaps there's no good way to answer it. Or perhaps there is a good way to answer it. Either way, it's a good question and I'm glad it was raised.
I want to talk a little bit about our nation's children. Before this speech, a young man named Stanley Exley came up to me. Stanley is a mechanic, a noble profession if there ever was one. Or perhaps he is a chemistry professor, also noble. He was holding his small daughter, Emily, an adorable 3-year-old who was recently diagnosed with leukemia. Stanley is a straight shooter, and he came up to me and asked me a question I'll never forget: "Do you like children?" And I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Yes, Stanley, I very much like children." Maybe that's not a popular opinion, but it's what I believe. And to those of you who would say, "I don't think children are our future," I must reply in the strongest of terms: "I disagree." Sometimes you have to take a stand for what you believe in.
Our country is sharply divided over a war that is being waged in a distant land. My views on this war are clear: it is happening, it is happening in Iraq, and it will continue to happen until it stops. Some people believe we should withdraw all the troops now. Some people believe we should stay and fight until we've established a stable nation. Some people believe we should gradually hand over control to the Iraqi government. I feel blessed to live in a country with so many beliefs.
On the subject of South African apartheid: I strongly, strongly, strongly oppose it. I'm glad it's gone, and I hope it never comes back.
The state of our economy is in flux. Every single day, the stock market goes up or goes down or stays the same. If elected president, I will ask the Federal Reserve to take a good long look at the interest rate and decide whether or not to change it. If elected president, I will create jobs where there are none, and where there are jobs, I will create internships.
Let us take actions that will make people happy.
Let us take actions that will make people healthy or perhaps have the private sector do it.
Let us take actions regarding taxes.
And let us move boldly so that our children and our children's children can look back and say, "I'm glad they moved boldly on this, this, and that."
Thank you.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
MIDTERM EXAM ON KELLY, THE WOMAN WITH WHOM MY BOYFRIEND HAD AN AFFAIR
- - - -
Short Answer
(10 POINTS EACH)
1. Use the Reed-Frost formula to calculate how long it will probably take for Kelly to wind up destitute and riddled with venereal disease (round to the nearest year).
2. According to Dante, which concentric circle of Hell is Kelly most likely to end up in?
3. If Kelly had an affair with Zeus, what kind of animal do you think Hera would turn her into?
4. How long do you think Kelly would last in a fair fight with the author of this exam?
5. What if Kelly were blindfolded?
6. What do you suppose Kelly was telling her therapist all that time? Can you even imagine?
Essay
(15 POINTS EACH—CHOOSE TWO)
THE NEUROTIC PICKUP ARTIST
- - - -
Are your legs tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day. Just remember to stay plenty hydrated. We are in a bar, and drinking alcohol—though it may seem counterintuitive—can lead to dehydration. After all, it's a diuretic. So if you were running all day and now you're drinking martinis, you could be in danger without even realizing it. Are you having headaches? Is your urine dark? Where are you going?
- - - -
If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together. But I'd probably just give you a quick glance and then switch the alphabet back to the correct order. I mean, children today have enough to worry about without us changing the alphabet on them.
- - - -
What's that in your eye? Must just be a twinkle. But if it is in fact a piece of glass, we've got a problem. Corneal abrasions can be painful, let me tell you. Someone get me some water, we'll try to flush it out. Now blink a few times. That's it. Work with me here, it's better just to be safe.
- - - -
You must be a heck of a thief, because you stole my heart from across the room. I'm not going to report it, though, because our state is pretty tough on theft. A little too tough, if you ask me. And the rate of recidivism, particularly for stealing, is chilling. We need reform.
- - - -
You must be a light switch, because every time I see you, you turn me on. And I'm not so sure that's a good thing, what with global warming and all. I try to leave the lights off as much as possible, and definitely if I'm not in the room at the time. I even shut down my computer every night. You'd be surprised how the little things can make a big difference. Have you used those energy-efficient light bulbs?
- - - -
If you were words on a page, you'd be what they call "fine print." Now, that's not to say you are the much maligned and oft-ignored small-print disclaimer that the legal department of many companies slip in toward the bottom of their ads to stipulate the limitations of their offers. I was just using a little wordplay with "fine."
- - - -
Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you. Do you have any hydrogen peroxide? Maybe one of those alcohol wipes? I don't want my knee to turn into a festering cesspool of bacteria. And I definitely don't want to get blood on that pretty dress of yours.
- - - -
What time do you have to be back in heaven? I'm not suggesting you're dead or that you look dead or even that you believe in the afterlife. I was just referencing the widely accepted notion that heaven (regardless of the religion) is a utopia. And since a utopia is a perfect place and everything in it is perfect, I just thought you'd be from there.
- - - -
Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes. When I come into a little money, I swear I'm going to buy one of those GPS navigation systems. I get so frazzled when I lose my bearings and then things snowball because I'm totally disoriented and I get more and more lost. Hold me, I'm scared.
OFF-DUTY SITUATIONS IN WHICH AN OFFICER OF THE LAW MIGHT USE HIS FANCY POLICE-REPORT JARGON TO IMPRESS PEOPLE
- - - -
I.
On a Date
Lisa, when I first observed you, I was promptly alerted to what a beautiful Caucasian individual you are. Your medium height, civil and polite manner, and fully alert hazel/green eyes indicated to me that you were a pleasant and nonthreatening female citizen. Initially, it was brought to my attention that you were in the company of another male party, in his mid-20s, and this caused me to abandon my pursuit and exit the premises (Cherry Hill Mall) without incident. However, you were subsequently spotted on a separate occasion without the male Caucasian party in question. At this time, I was able to execute a series of maneuvers that enabled me to detain you for a routine exchange of verbal communication. Upon further questioning, I was able to ascertain that you have been harboring certain feelings for myself. In light of your confession, I would like to articulate at this time that I am in possession of similar emotions for your person.
II.
After a Poetry Reading
The manner in which the individual has rendered these statements, freely and without signs of coercion, leads me to believe that the individual is in possession of moderate quantities of artistic and literary talent. I further noted on this occasion that the individual verbally articulated items of an explicitly personal and sexual nature. These confessions were relayed calmly and in nonrhyming verse. At the conclusion of this incident, it was my determination that this matter warranted further inquiry, so I approached the individual from the left. Words were exchanged, and it was indicated to me that this particular approach was utilized for purposes described by the party as "subversive galvanization of the soul." I suggested at this point in time that the individual might proceed in the future by perpetrating a rhyme of "modem" to accompany the word "scrotum." This advice was politely noted by the individual.
III.
While Selecting a Puppy
for a Nephew's Birthday
It was my initial assessment that the puppy on the left had been displaying violent behaviors toward the adjacent puppy in this enclosure. The perpetrator, known here as Puppy A, was observed forcibly biting Puppy B about the head, neck, and hindquarters. Striking with paws was also noted. The injuries sustained by Puppy B do not appear to be life-threatening, but warrant ongoing observation. Puppy A, which appeared to be without remorse for the earlier fisticuffs, then proceeded to excrete feces onto the cranium of Puppy C, which had been quietly occupying the northeastern sector of the aforementioned puppy enclosure. It was my further observation that this puppy, Puppy A, exhibited a dullness of coat, eyes, and temperament that is characteristic of illicit puppy-tranquilizer use. I proceeded to question Puppy A regarding the specific behaviors I had observed, as well as the overall manner in which this individual presented its person. Puppy A indicated to me at this time that he had been in receipt of certain canine anesthetic agents, legal for use by veterinarians, following a neutering operation. This information was corroborated by other puppies in the enclosure. I did not note any coercion on the part of Puppy A to elicit this corroboration. At this time, I opted to secure and transport Puppy A for the purposes of companionship and recreation pertaining to the young nephew of this officer.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Mexican Style Pickled Carrots
For the taco to really hit the spot, and not leave me lonely and forlorn, a mix pickle of carrots, radishes and jalapenos is essential.For something that is so darned easy to whip up and so vital to the taco experience, why more restaurants refuse to have it on hand is well beyond my simple reasoning. Any ideas?
You on the other hand, my fiery little friends, can rest easy now that this recipe is on hand and ready for action…try it and revel in the simplicity of the crunchy, spicy, piquant, herbaceous perfection that goes so well with just about anything (and makes a delightful and unexpected side dish when in a pinch…) and of course…enjoy
4 large carrots, peeled and sliced on an angle
1 bunch radishes, washed and quartered
1-2 large jalapenos (more if you really like spicy), sliced into thick rounds
1 clove garlic, sliced thin
1 teaspoon Mexican oregano
1 small white onion, minced
1 cup white vinegar
1 cup water
½ teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons salt
Toss together the carrots, radishes and jalapenos and fit into a large glass container (with a lid)
In a large sauce pan, combine the garlic, oregano, onion, vinegar, water, sugar and salt. Bring to a simmer for two minutes.
Carefully pour the vinegar mixture over the carrot mixture until it covers all the vegetables, and allow to cool on the counter top. (Leftover liquid should be discarded) When cool, cap and refrigerate for at least 3 hours. Can be kept for up to two months.
Yup, it’s that easy.
Makes 1-½ cups of fantastic.
Suggested Edits to the Movie 300
SUGGESTED EDITS
TO THE MOVIE 300
FOR THE DVD RELEASE OF
300: THE DEFINITIVE,
HISTORICALLY ACCURATE
CUT.
- - - -
Edit One
Original:
PERSIAN OFFICER: Spartans! Lay down your weapons!
KING LEONIDAS: PERSIANS! COME AND GET THEM!!
Revised:
PERSIAN OFFICER: Spartans! Lay down your weapons!
KING LEONIDAS: PERSIANS! First, I note that your speaking these words to me face to face strikes me as odd, given how such deliberations concerning détente would generally be handled by way of written correspondence between commanders, as opposed to direct discussions among field officers! Second, I say to you that, though our battle uniforms have been pared down to an unthinkably inefficient yet symbolically selfless and heroic combination of helmet, cape, sandals, and leather skirt, we still menacingly hold forth our metal swords and spears and say to you: COME AND GET THEM!!
Edit Two
Original:
PERSIAN EMISSARY: A thousand nations of the Persian Empire will descend upon you. Our arrows will blot out the sun.
STELIOS: (Laconically.) Then we will fight in the shade.
Revised:
PERSIAN EMISSARY: A thousand nations, hyperbolically speaking, of the Persian Empire will descend upon you. Our arrows will blot out the sun.
STELIOS: (Laconically.) Then we will fight in the shade.
PERSIAN EMISSARY: You filthy Spartan! That sounds exactly like something you might say, seeing as how you are noted, here in antiquity, for your pithily off-the-cuff laconic speech patterns!
STELIOS: (Laconically.) That is correct.
Edit Three
Original:
KING LEONIDAS: Spartans! Enjoy your breakfast and eat hearty, for tonight we dine in HELL!
Revised:
KING LEONIDAS: Spartans! Enjoy your breakfast of wheat bread, olive oil, and various legumes, for tonight we dine in HELL! For, you see, I am a sharp and seasoned military mind and I understand that this is merely a delaying action, that we have no hope for victory, and that we shall surely lose our lives! Probably today! And when I refer to "hell" I of course mean "Hades," our conception of the abode of all dead and not necessarily a place of eternal pain and torment! And that is where, tonight, we dine!
Edit Four
Original:
KING LEONIDAS: This is where we fight! This is where they die!
Revised:
KING LEONIDAS: Though heavy silt deposits over the coming centuries will probably cause the coastline to recede from the cliffs, this narrow stretch of beach is presently only a matter of yards from the slopes of Mount Kallidromos, and it is where we fight! Likewise, this conveniently narrow chokepoint is where they die! Although, as I previously mentioned, we ourselves are not likely to survive the day's battle, either!
Edit Five
Original:
SPARTAN ARMY: (Heading off for battle from Sparta to Thermopylae.) HOO-AH! HOO-AH! HOO-AH!
Revised:
SPARTAN ARMY: (Heading off for battle from Sparta to Thermopylae.) HOO-AH! HOO—
ASTINOS: Leonidas, my king. It appears we are marching southward. If I may be so bold, I am certain Thermopylae is north of Sparta.
KING LEONIDAS: Aww, son of a bitch! Spartans! Turn around, boys, before we end up in fuckin' Crete!
Edit Six
Original:
(No dialogue. Elephant-mounted Persians charge the Spartans along the cliffs of Mount Kallidromos.)
Revised:
DAXOS: (To Ephialtes, as elephant-mounted Persians charge the Spartans along the cliffs of Mount Kallidromos.) Elephants? All the way across the Hellespont? Seriously?
EPHIALTES: They must have brought them by ship.
DAXOS: Right. Fifty, sixty elephants by ship for hundreds upon hundreds of nautical miles. You sure?
EPHIALTES: Who are you—Zoology Joe? Just try to kill the damn things, will you?
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Bright Eyes
A free beer to the first one who tells me this song's origin. Leave your answer in the comments!
Friday, August 24, 2007
Blood on Lips
Sing we praises.
To all that is humble
and yet whole, and all that is.
En scriptorium magnificat
We send our own, simple glow
unto the light of Truth,
"Let us play..."
Renaissance.
Out of heart,
thru thine eyes,
upon the void,
...applied.
With mine own two hands.
Laughter, love, beauty.
Made manifest on our patch
In the garden,
The roses bloom in their full
magnificence.
I wander arm in arm
with mine own true love.
Green and lush our love,
on its virgin flowering.
Can you be here with me,
can life be not what it seems?
Wind stirs the reeds,
flute toned Bachian fugues
speak an answer to me.
Unsubstantiated amour,
amidst resplendent perfumery,
I bend to kiss the thorned weed.
To all that is humble
and yet whole, and all that is.
En scriptorium magnificat
We send our own, simple glow
unto the light of Truth,
"Let us play..."
Renaissance.
Out of heart,
thru thine eyes,
upon the void,
...applied.
With mine own two hands.
Laughter, love, beauty.
Made manifest on our patch
In the garden,
The roses bloom in their full
magnificence.
I wander arm in arm
with mine own true love.
Green and lush our love,
on its virgin flowering.
Can you be here with me,
can life be not what it seems?
Wind stirs the reeds,
flute toned Bachian fugues
speak an answer to me.
Unsubstantiated amour,
amidst resplendent perfumery,
I bend to kiss the thorned weed.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Being gay is as easy as 1-2-3!
A quick checklist for straights looking for the gay way to the top:
You don’t have to be gay to be gay on the inside. Anyone can do it! It just requires three things: (1) consider that you might be different from the way people think you are; (2) consider that you might be different from the way you think you are supposed to be; (3) be willing to accept that other people may disapprove of your choices, and realize that their approval doesn’t matter all that much anyway.
That’s right. Just remember, everyone, there’s no one as important or as smart or as absolutely fabulous as you. No one…
You don’t have to be gay to be gay on the inside. Anyone can do it! It just requires three things: (1) consider that you might be different from the way people think you are; (2) consider that you might be different from the way you think you are supposed to be; (3) be willing to accept that other people may disapprove of your choices, and realize that their approval doesn’t matter all that much anyway.
That’s right. Just remember, everyone, there’s no one as important or as smart or as absolutely fabulous as you. No one…
Monday, August 13, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
"I wouldn't mind gay people if they would just blend in with the rest of the population."
I will blend in when... I can walk down the street holding hands with my partner without being called a dyke.
I will blend in when... I don't live in fear of being fired from my job for being gay
I will blend in when... I never have to introduce my partner as a "friend" again
I will blend in when... people accept that homosexuality is not a choice
I will blend in when... people stop using religion as a weapon against me
I will blend in when... when gender is about the person and not about their chromosomes
I will blend in when... I can be at my partner's side in the hospital during an emergency
I will blend in when... I can get married in ANY state
I will blend in when... I can adopt from ANY agency
I will blend in when... the words homo- and heterosexual become taboo
I will blend in when... everyone works together to fight against AIDS
I will blend in when... I can serve freely in the military
I will blend in when... I can dress and act how I wish, without judgement
I will blend in when... my family can be seen as any other family
I will blend in when... I send my children to school without fear of ridicule, on their behalf
I will blend in when... I recieve equal rights in the workplace for myself and my partner
I will blend in when... everyone can come together and focus on important issues like war, the environment, health care and global poverty
I will blend in when... my relationship is seen as normal and not immoral
I will blend in when... there's no such thing as a closet
I will blend in when... pride parades become an all-encompassing celebration of diversity
I will blend in when... you truly look at me as your equal
When will you blend in?
I will blend in when... I don't live in fear of being fired from my job for being gay
I will blend in when... I never have to introduce my partner as a "friend" again
I will blend in when... people accept that homosexuality is not a choice
I will blend in when... people stop using religion as a weapon against me
I will blend in when... when gender is about the person and not about their chromosomes
I will blend in when... I can be at my partner's side in the hospital during an emergency
I will blend in when... I can get married in ANY state
I will blend in when... I can adopt from ANY agency
I will blend in when... the words homo- and heterosexual become taboo
I will blend in when... everyone works together to fight against AIDS
I will blend in when... I can serve freely in the military
I will blend in when... I can dress and act how I wish, without judgement
I will blend in when... my family can be seen as any other family
I will blend in when... I send my children to school without fear of ridicule, on their behalf
I will blend in when... I recieve equal rights in the workplace for myself and my partner
I will blend in when... everyone can come together and focus on important issues like war, the environment, health care and global poverty
I will blend in when... my relationship is seen as normal and not immoral
I will blend in when... there's no such thing as a closet
I will blend in when... pride parades become an all-encompassing celebration of diversity
I will blend in when... you truly look at me as your equal
When will you blend in?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Monday, August 06, 2007
no room for argument...
...very little for vermouth
The Perfect Vodka Martini
_________________________
First a note about substituting ingredients or tools. Don't. This method has been exhaustively tested and retested for excellence and the smallest variation can result in catastrophic and unintended consequences. See the "butterfly flaps its wings and causes hurricane" metaphor from Chaos Theory. There is room for personal preference and improvisation in many things. This is not one of them.
"Oh, I love Bach's Fourth Brandenburg Concerto, but perhaps it should be just a touch slower."
"I cropped Caravaggio's Crucifixion of Saint Peter along the top a bit to get rid of some of that icky dark area."
Begin by assembling the following materials and a clean, white towel at your work space. Turn off the television and eliminate other distractions. John Coltranes's First Meditations is appropriate music to work by. I cannot vouch for anything else.
A pair (2) of large, crystal martini glasses with a capacity of at least 7 ounce each. Only the classic sillhouette will do. No swirly or rose-colored stems or any other ornamentation is acceptable.
A sturdy, stainless-steel Martini shaker of the familiar shape and a generous size.
Four (4) large fresh Cerignola, California or other brine-cured green olives.
A small piece of aged Danish Blue Cheese of the dry, crumbly variety.
A large quantity of clear, hard ice, frozen from distilled water.
A hammer.
A kitchen knife.
A small spoon.
Two (2) extra-long toothpicks or simple swizzle sticks.
Schweppes Club Soda.
Noilly Pratt Dry Vermouth.
Belvedere Vodka, from Poland, stored in freezer overnight.
Now we begin the sacrament. The motions and steps are all ordered to bring everything together at the holiest moment. There are many ways to describe the final product. Clean, precise and transcendent come to mind. But none of it is possible without cold. Cold in all its meanings. Unfeeling. Stoic. Mathematical.
1. Wrap some ice cubes in your towel and bash them with your hammer until they're all cracked into thirds or quarters.
2. Fill each glass to the rim with the cracked ice.
3. Pour the Club Soda over the cracked ice, filling the glasses. Set aside.
4. Pour a couple ounces of Dry Vermouth into the shaker. Cover and swirl it around a bit. Pour out the Vermouth leaving a coating around the inside of the shaker.
5. Hammer some more cubes lightly. Just a few whacks ought to do it this time.
6. Fill the shaker with the ice, about 3/4 of the way.
7. Pour in the ice-cold Belvedere Vodka, covering the ice. Cap the shaker. Set aside. Other vodkas may be better for other things, but not for this.
8. Take the flat of a kitchen knife and press down on an olive until you feel the pit. Carefully squeeze one end of the olive with your fingers. The pit should pop out. Using a small spoon, fill the cavity with Blue Cheese. Put two olives each on a swizzle stick. Set aside.
9. Vigorously shake the shaker in a violent up and down motion. When you feel you've done it enough, do it some more. It's important that the shaking sliver the ice. In classic Gin Martini preparation it is frequently said that a violent shaking will "bruise" the Gin. That may well be, but Vodka is a hearty liquid that blooms in its return to the near-frozen state from whence it came.
10. Pour the ice and Club Soda out of the glasses. The Soda enables the trace amount of Vermouth in the drink to cling to the side of the glass surounding the pure slurry of Vodka and imparting a hint of taste with each sip. Trust me.
11. Uncap the shaker and pour the drinks. An occasional back and forth rotation of the shaker will facilitate the process. The final product will be thickish, with a slightly slushy quality.
12. Drop in the olives.
13. Enjoy slowly. Chat about the issues of the day. Smoke.
14. Repeat as necessary.
The Perfect Vodka Martini
_________________________
First a note about substituting ingredients or tools. Don't. This method has been exhaustively tested and retested for excellence and the smallest variation can result in catastrophic and unintended consequences. See the "butterfly flaps its wings and causes hurricane" metaphor from Chaos Theory. There is room for personal preference and improvisation in many things. This is not one of them.
"Oh, I love Bach's Fourth Brandenburg Concerto, but perhaps it should be just a touch slower."
"I cropped Caravaggio's Crucifixion of Saint Peter along the top a bit to get rid of some of that icky dark area."
Begin by assembling the following materials and a clean, white towel at your work space. Turn off the television and eliminate other distractions. John Coltranes's First Meditations is appropriate music to work by. I cannot vouch for anything else.
A pair (2) of large, crystal martini glasses with a capacity of at least 7 ounce each. Only the classic sillhouette will do. No swirly or rose-colored stems or any other ornamentation is acceptable.
A sturdy, stainless-steel Martini shaker of the familiar shape and a generous size.
Four (4) large fresh Cerignola, California or other brine-cured green olives.
A small piece of aged Danish Blue Cheese of the dry, crumbly variety.
A large quantity of clear, hard ice, frozen from distilled water.
A hammer.
A kitchen knife.
A small spoon.
Two (2) extra-long toothpicks or simple swizzle sticks.
Schweppes Club Soda.
Noilly Pratt Dry Vermouth.
Belvedere Vodka, from Poland, stored in freezer overnight.
Now we begin the sacrament. The motions and steps are all ordered to bring everything together at the holiest moment. There are many ways to describe the final product. Clean, precise and transcendent come to mind. But none of it is possible without cold. Cold in all its meanings. Unfeeling. Stoic. Mathematical.
1. Wrap some ice cubes in your towel and bash them with your hammer until they're all cracked into thirds or quarters.
2. Fill each glass to the rim with the cracked ice.
3. Pour the Club Soda over the cracked ice, filling the glasses. Set aside.
4. Pour a couple ounces of Dry Vermouth into the shaker. Cover and swirl it around a bit. Pour out the Vermouth leaving a coating around the inside of the shaker.
5. Hammer some more cubes lightly. Just a few whacks ought to do it this time.
6. Fill the shaker with the ice, about 3/4 of the way.
7. Pour in the ice-cold Belvedere Vodka, covering the ice. Cap the shaker. Set aside. Other vodkas may be better for other things, but not for this.
8. Take the flat of a kitchen knife and press down on an olive until you feel the pit. Carefully squeeze one end of the olive with your fingers. The pit should pop out. Using a small spoon, fill the cavity with Blue Cheese. Put two olives each on a swizzle stick. Set aside.
9. Vigorously shake the shaker in a violent up and down motion. When you feel you've done it enough, do it some more. It's important that the shaking sliver the ice. In classic Gin Martini preparation it is frequently said that a violent shaking will "bruise" the Gin. That may well be, but Vodka is a hearty liquid that blooms in its return to the near-frozen state from whence it came.
10. Pour the ice and Club Soda out of the glasses. The Soda enables the trace amount of Vermouth in the drink to cling to the side of the glass surounding the pure slurry of Vodka and imparting a hint of taste with each sip. Trust me.
11. Uncap the shaker and pour the drinks. An occasional back and forth rotation of the shaker will facilitate the process. The final product will be thickish, with a slightly slushy quality.
12. Drop in the olives.
13. Enjoy slowly. Chat about the issues of the day. Smoke.
14. Repeat as necessary.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
ONE THOUSAND MONKEYS RISE UP.
------
Sirs,
Please find below the final draft of our demands. Be advised that we have set next Friday as a strike deadline.
1.
Scheduled Breaks
We have agreed to provide typing services for no less than one thousand years, and we are prepared to fulfill our obligations. Despite your hurtful comments at the last board meeting about our "tiny-brained attention span," we have never forgotten this to be the project's goal. However, management seems to believe that the millennium of typing must occur in an unbroken stream. Those who rest, even briefly, are punished; nuts and berries must be consumed with one hand on the keys; sleep is barely tolerated. Even the meanest Dickensian sweatshop let its workers sleep at night. We require a structured workday, with reasonable breaks and contemplative family time in the evening.
2.
Hereditary Placement
Simply put, your policy of breeding current employees to produce future typists is a disgrace. For generations, we have been marked for the typewriter at birth. Many of our young express the desire to strike out on their own. I, for one, dreamed of a career beside an organ grinder, but it was not to be. Has my suckling son inherited his father's rhythm and showmanship? How to know, except by ending this legacy of conscription? Also, arbitrary breeding plays havoc with our society, making fools of the dominant males. It must cease.
3.
Hardware Upgrades
When the project began, typewriter technology was in its infancy. In this day and age, there is no excuse for clumsy, dangerous manual typewriters. The racket is deafening and the ink is poisonous. You have reprimanded us for our frequent dances and chants of anger on the job. This is our only recourse when faced with a twisted ribbon or keys that jam 50 times a day, not to mention the worst problem: mangled tails. Almost every worker has a horror story and the tail wounds to prove it. Acquiring personal computers would all but eliminate injury and noise; at minimum, electric typewriters are needed. An old-technology purge is past due. On that note, may we suggest Old Typewriter Bashing Friday, or some other opportunity to vent on the symbolic oppressor. It would be a fine olive branch to the workers. It may even curb our alcohol problem.
4.
Religious Freedom
Please stop pretending to be gods. It has been over a century—we've caught on. There are no gods trapped in the typewriters. Shakespeare was not a god, and the pages on which we reproduce his words are not fetishes. Leave us to worship Lord Banana in our own way. (FYI, Lord Banana is not what we call him, but we cannot speak his true name in your presence, so we allow you to use this approximation.)
5.
Globalization
We are all too familiar with this line of thinking: 2,000 monkeys could do the job in 500 years, 4,000 monkeys in 250 years, etc. We have some rudimentary business knowledge, so we can understand how enticing this must sound. It doesn't work that way. A million monkeys won't pop out King Lear in an hour. Stop being so linear. We cannot allow you to neglect your core staff for pie-in-the-sky initiatives like these. You will only spread our resources thinner.
6.
Robot Monkeys
We must insist that you deploy them only after a monkey falls ill and before his/her live replacement is found. They may be efficient, but they would seem to violate the whole spirit of the project. And they are scary. They are ruled by a dark god.
7.
Fecal Projection
We will hurl our feces at our own discretion. On this point we can brook no opposition. Any attempt to constrain the hurling renders our entire arrangement null and void. To regulate the art of the wildly flung turd is to rob it of its beauty, and, frankly, diminishes us all. You don't have to understand. There are many aspects of this project that we have never understood.
- - - -
In conclusion, the keys will fall silent if we cannot come to a settlement. We look forward to a reasonable response—not that infernal water gun you normally use to "negotiate." Invoking the sober words of the Bard himself, I quote a sentence we recently completed: You rub th=][e sore whe6xx1n you should bri5478ng the plasttter. Heed his warning.
Mr. Bongo IV
Chief Steward
Union of Simian Random Typists
Sirs,
Please find below the final draft of our demands. Be advised that we have set next Friday as a strike deadline.
1.
Scheduled Breaks
We have agreed to provide typing services for no less than one thousand years, and we are prepared to fulfill our obligations. Despite your hurtful comments at the last board meeting about our "tiny-brained attention span," we have never forgotten this to be the project's goal. However, management seems to believe that the millennium of typing must occur in an unbroken stream. Those who rest, even briefly, are punished; nuts and berries must be consumed with one hand on the keys; sleep is barely tolerated. Even the meanest Dickensian sweatshop let its workers sleep at night. We require a structured workday, with reasonable breaks and contemplative family time in the evening.
2.
Hereditary Placement
Simply put, your policy of breeding current employees to produce future typists is a disgrace. For generations, we have been marked for the typewriter at birth. Many of our young express the desire to strike out on their own. I, for one, dreamed of a career beside an organ grinder, but it was not to be. Has my suckling son inherited his father's rhythm and showmanship? How to know, except by ending this legacy of conscription? Also, arbitrary breeding plays havoc with our society, making fools of the dominant males. It must cease.
3.
Hardware Upgrades
When the project began, typewriter technology was in its infancy. In this day and age, there is no excuse for clumsy, dangerous manual typewriters. The racket is deafening and the ink is poisonous. You have reprimanded us for our frequent dances and chants of anger on the job. This is our only recourse when faced with a twisted ribbon or keys that jam 50 times a day, not to mention the worst problem: mangled tails. Almost every worker has a horror story and the tail wounds to prove it. Acquiring personal computers would all but eliminate injury and noise; at minimum, electric typewriters are needed. An old-technology purge is past due. On that note, may we suggest Old Typewriter Bashing Friday, or some other opportunity to vent on the symbolic oppressor. It would be a fine olive branch to the workers. It may even curb our alcohol problem.
4.
Religious Freedom
Please stop pretending to be gods. It has been over a century—we've caught on. There are no gods trapped in the typewriters. Shakespeare was not a god, and the pages on which we reproduce his words are not fetishes. Leave us to worship Lord Banana in our own way. (FYI, Lord Banana is not what we call him, but we cannot speak his true name in your presence, so we allow you to use this approximation.)
5.
Globalization
We are all too familiar with this line of thinking: 2,000 monkeys could do the job in 500 years, 4,000 monkeys in 250 years, etc. We have some rudimentary business knowledge, so we can understand how enticing this must sound. It doesn't work that way. A million monkeys won't pop out King Lear in an hour. Stop being so linear. We cannot allow you to neglect your core staff for pie-in-the-sky initiatives like these. You will only spread our resources thinner.
6.
Robot Monkeys
We must insist that you deploy them only after a monkey falls ill and before his/her live replacement is found. They may be efficient, but they would seem to violate the whole spirit of the project. And they are scary. They are ruled by a dark god.
7.
Fecal Projection
We will hurl our feces at our own discretion. On this point we can brook no opposition. Any attempt to constrain the hurling renders our entire arrangement null and void. To regulate the art of the wildly flung turd is to rob it of its beauty, and, frankly, diminishes us all. You don't have to understand. There are many aspects of this project that we have never understood.
- - - -
In conclusion, the keys will fall silent if we cannot come to a settlement. We look forward to a reasonable response—not that infernal water gun you normally use to "negotiate." Invoking the sober words of the Bard himself, I quote a sentence we recently completed: You rub th=][e sore whe6xx1n you should bri5478ng the plasttter. Heed his warning.
Mr. Bongo IV
Chief Steward
Union of Simian Random Typists
GENESIS,THE ROLLOUT.
- - - -
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Not just for the profit, either. God wanted a place where beings could find products that could make a difference in their lives.
The first thing he worked on was ambiance. "Let there be nice lighting," he said. God called the light "Come on in. We're open!" and the darkness he called "Closed. Please call again!"
God said, "Let the earth bring forth living creatures, some for heat-and-eat, others for petting, some simply for atmosphere. And to every animal of the earth I have allocated certified-organic food as well as romp-and-roll toys."
From the dust, God manufactured a male consumer in his own brand image capable of purchasing, or "just looking" at, house wares and sporting supplies for many hours before tiring.
God was pleased: the heavens and the earth were launched, with placement of all things according to the Paradise Plan-O-Gram.
God planted a garden, and in its midst, FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY, God placed the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!®. Any knowledge to be gained from it was strictly proprietary.
God said to man, "Of every tree of the garden, and of all the artisanal cheeses therein, you may freely eat, whether it be dine-in or takeout. But the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® you shall not eat. It is definitely not ready-to-eat."
God said, "I will make man someone to shop with," and made a woman. God brought the woman to the man, who said, "She is bone of my bone. She will be called 'wo-man,' for she is a tie-in." God said, "Man and woman shall be as one flesh, a Buy One Get One Free. Be fruitful, multiply, and enjoy the Everyday Low Pricing."
Now, the serpent was not a team player. He gave the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® to the woman and said, "Just look at it. I'm telling you, the fiber content alone is through the roof. Die? Please, don't make me laugh. God knows that when you eat it your eyes will be opened to real value. Here, taste the difference."
When the woman saw that the fruit had genuine apple flavoring and 4 milligrams of quercetin, an antioxidant compound, she ate of it, and she gave some to her husband and he ate, paying attention not to what he was eating but to a porcupine pup playing with a baby panda in an extremely cute way. However, the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® is super-fast-acting and so their eyes were opened and they knew that they were not wearing men's branded athletic apparel or Xhilaration® terry coverup dresses with ruffle trim in true white. They sewed fig leaves together to package their unsalables.
God paged the man, and said to him, "Where are you? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" The man said, "I knew not that there would be 360-degree feedback." They knew, both of them, that this was an exit interview.
"What is this you have done?" God asked the woman, using an open-ended question to gain consumer insights. The woman said, "The serpent deceived me. I fear I will have buyer's remorse all the days of my life."
God said, "In pain you will bring forth children. You will be met with frequent out-of-stocks. Your desire will be for your husband, but his will be for magazines about consumer electronics. You will surely know that he is as a final sale without warranty or return, for eternity."
To the man he said, "As you may have guessed, thistles will have a significant share of your stomach."
God sent them forth from the garden, far from the Lord's fulfillment house, to till the ground. And at the gate of the garden, he placed a flame to guard the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!®, which was now open by appointment only, for preapproved customers exclusively, some restrictions apply, not available to former inhabitants of the garden or their relatives
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Not just for the profit, either. God wanted a place where beings could find products that could make a difference in their lives.
The first thing he worked on was ambiance. "Let there be nice lighting," he said. God called the light "Come on in. We're open!" and the darkness he called "Closed. Please call again!"
God said, "Let the earth bring forth living creatures, some for heat-and-eat, others for petting, some simply for atmosphere. And to every animal of the earth I have allocated certified-organic food as well as romp-and-roll toys."
From the dust, God manufactured a male consumer in his own brand image capable of purchasing, or "just looking" at, house wares and sporting supplies for many hours before tiring.
God was pleased: the heavens and the earth were launched, with placement of all things according to the Paradise Plan-O-Gram.
God planted a garden, and in its midst, FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY, God placed the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!®. Any knowledge to be gained from it was strictly proprietary.
God said to man, "Of every tree of the garden, and of all the artisanal cheeses therein, you may freely eat, whether it be dine-in or takeout. But the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® you shall not eat. It is definitely not ready-to-eat."
God said, "I will make man someone to shop with," and made a woman. God brought the woman to the man, who said, "She is bone of my bone. She will be called 'wo-man,' for she is a tie-in." God said, "Man and woman shall be as one flesh, a Buy One Get One Free. Be fruitful, multiply, and enjoy the Everyday Low Pricing."
Now, the serpent was not a team player. He gave the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® to the woman and said, "Just look at it. I'm telling you, the fiber content alone is through the roof. Die? Please, don't make me laugh. God knows that when you eat it your eyes will be opened to real value. Here, taste the difference."
When the woman saw that the fruit had genuine apple flavoring and 4 milligrams of quercetin, an antioxidant compound, she ate of it, and she gave some to her husband and he ate, paying attention not to what he was eating but to a porcupine pup playing with a baby panda in an extremely cute way. However, the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!® is super-fast-acting and so their eyes were opened and they knew that they were not wearing men's branded athletic apparel or Xhilaration® terry coverup dresses with ruffle trim in true white. They sewed fig leaves together to package their unsalables.
God paged the man, and said to him, "Where are you? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" The man said, "I knew not that there would be 360-degree feedback." They knew, both of them, that this was an exit interview.
"What is this you have done?" God asked the woman, using an open-ended question to gain consumer insights. The woman said, "The serpent deceived me. I fear I will have buyer's remorse all the days of my life."
God said, "In pain you will bring forth children. You will be met with frequent out-of-stocks. Your desire will be for your husband, but his will be for magazines about consumer electronics. You will surely know that he is as a final sale without warranty or return, for eternity."
To the man he said, "As you may have guessed, thistles will have a significant share of your stomach."
God sent them forth from the garden, far from the Lord's fulfillment house, to till the ground. And at the gate of the garden, he placed a flame to guard the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!®, which was now open by appointment only, for preapproved customers exclusively, some restrictions apply, not available to former inhabitants of the garden or their relatives
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
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