orld famous for his claims that bible math proved the rapture would come on May 22nd, and less famous for his claims a few days later that the rapture actually totally did happen, but it was all meta and conceptual and shit, Harold Camping has emerged from hiding this week to announce his boldest prediction yet: HD-DVD will be coming back on July 27th.

HD-DVD, the home video optical disc format launched by Japan’s Toshiba Corp in 2006, spent the entirety of its brief existence engaged in a bitter format war with rival Sony’s Blu-ray. The war came to a sudden, testicle-bashing end in January of 2008, when Warner Bros. announced it would end its policy of supporting both formats and throw its weight behind Blu-ray, because of that technology’s larger capacity and cooler name. Toshiba vowed to keep up the fight, while immediately stopping HD-DVD player production with its other hand and dispatching ninjas to WB headquarters with a surprise third hand that ended up being a fake made of paper mache. Soon after, the disc format folded like a delivery from Netflix.

"This is the real one," claimed Camping when questioned by the commune as to whether or not this was the real one. "I’ve read the bible twice and there it is, plain as day. Thine format begat by Toshiba shall rise once more, because The Jerk hath never come out on Blu-ray."

When this reporter pointed out that there was no fucking way it says "Toshiba" in the bible, Camping issued me a demerit for swearing and gave me a note to take to my parents. They are dead.

Skeptics of Camping’s revelation were not difficult to find.

"Bullshit," explained movie collector "Rowdy" Ronnie Pepper.

"Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit," he explained further.

And yet, Camping’s devout are convinced their man has it right again, for the first time.

"I totally knew it," boasted Philadelphia layabout Bob Rudolph. "All my friends were re-buying Black Rain on Blu-ray and I was like no way dude, HD-DVD is coming back. It’s in the bible and shit. With numbers."

"Wouldn’t that be awesome?" queried Quad Cities grass painter Mitchell Clung. "Imagine a world where you could buy any movie you wanted in high-def, as long as it was put out by Universal. It would be like heaven."

"The whole rapture fake-out was just a test to weed out the non-believers from the faithful," shouted Wisconsin housewife Mary Snupp, because this reporter had already started to walk across the street to interview someone who didn’t have cartoon cats on their doormat. "Now only the true of heart will know to start bidding on that Bee Movie HD-DVD on eBay."

When asked if Jesus would be returning with HD-DVD, Camping made a joke about The Passion of the Christ and then mumbled something about getting back to us after he’d learned how to do bible fractions.

Senator Wins Lottery, Quits "Shitty Job"

the commune's Fall Gadget Guide

Arizona Border Patrol Installing Landmines

Eminem, Ex-Wife Reunite to Work on New Material

You can well imagine my fury when I found out my charity, "Rok Finger's Kids," hadn't been in operation for a number of years. Worse yet, I was still writing all my donations off on my taxes, and the IRS is just this side of pissed about that. What a middle-class nightmare. I immediately went down to see what happened to my charity, and why they apparently closed down after a month.

This is the worst time for money problems. My one source of income—the commune—has put me on early warning that I may be losing my job, the car is in desperate need of X-M radio, Camembert is getting married in three months, and I just spent $12,000 on that exorcism and that guy Eugene is still sleeping in the attic. What a waste of money. Did I mention Camembert proposed to his girlfriend? Funny how I forget to mention all these major things. I'm pretty sure I did three or four extensive columns on X-M radio already… but as I said, this could not be a worse time for money issues.

Since the building for the charity is now a Taco Bell, and all the bank accounts are closed and everything, I had to track down the former president of Rok's Kids and see what the deal was. How does a charity go out of business after a month? Uncharitable bastards, perhaps. But I couldn't second-guess the situation. I wanted facts.

That former president I mentioned was a woman, it turns out. Always look closely at those forms your applicants fill out. I thought by her name, Ginger Baker, she had to be a man, but turns out I was wrong. Sure, she was quite qualified for running charitable organizations, having ran the March of Dimes for five years before she was fired and charged with embezzling, but it doesn't change the fact she's a woman. And you know how I feel about women and how they deal with money—they're hopelessly good with math, and will always be on your ass about where the expenditures are going. I didn't need that.

Too late now, of course. So I found Ginger Baker at her new job, running a talent agency for pets, and demanded to know what happened to my charitable organization that shared my namesake. She said it bottomed out very quickly, that no one wanted to give any money to an organization named after a guy they had never heard of, an organization whose recipients, for all intents and purposes, were kids with no discernible illnesses or afflictions. I said it was horse hockey, of course, and then laughed for several minutes at the idea of horses wearing ice skates playing hockey. The shape of the goalie mask alone nearly put me into a permanent laughing coma… heh heh… horse hockey…

So everything worked perfectly, and I have a date with Ginger Baker for Saturday. She's quite an attractive woman, for someone who refuses to smile unless it's tax-deductible. And sexy, too! No, not at all. But thanks for getting my hopes up. In truth, you may or may not know this, but I do not write my column "live," and in fact write it several days ahead of the time it actually prints. So Saturday has, in fact, come and gone already. To you, Rok Finger of that Saturday: Way to go, you sex factory! Or, by alternative, way to blow it for all of us, dickweed. One of these is probably applicable to you.

Oh, and if it need to be said, don't worry about the kids. They were bed-bound, some of them comatose, and in either case they weren't very aware I started a charity for them at all. They probably don't know the gravy train ever began, so they won't wonder where it went to.

º Last Column: A Christmas Sandwich Come True
º more columns

Dear commune:

the commune’s coverage of the war in Bosnia has been nothing short of commendable. Objective? No. But objectivity is a quality far overvalued in our current society. A steaming dog turd on the side of the road is objective. But not the commune. Prompt? Not really, but promptitude is unquestionably in the eye of the beholder. Compared to the newspapers of early colonial America, printed manually on handset printing presses only once a month at best, the commune is truly a gleaming pillar of prompt reporting. Factual? I say with admiration in my typing voice that the commune has never let the facts get in the way of cleaving swiftly to the heart of a story and exposing it, still beating, for the public’s disgusted perusal. Bravo, commune. If but there were only a million other news sites like thee, for then the commune could be called one in a million.

Sincerely,

Rodery Hollenbeck
Steinburgen, RI


Dear Rodery:

Thank you kindly for your letter, and we apologize greatly for the serious delay in its publication. It seems that office gaywad Raoul Dunkin penned a half-assed Successory quote on the back of your letter and has been carrying it around with him for years, both for inspiration and in hopes of getting it made into a poster, superimposed over a soft-focus photo of geese in flight. Rest assured that he spent some serious time in the commune’s solitary closet for that stunt, one hour for every commune-bashing letter we’ve had to run since we received your delightful correspondence. So thank you. Oh, and if it wouldn’t be much trouble, could your possibly provide verifiable proof of your existence? Some heartless cynics around the office think that just because your letter came to us on Red Bagel’s personalized stationary that it was some clever ruse by Bagel to boost staff morale, kind of like that stripper he hired to work in the mailroom. Thanks. Oh, and by the way: "Wherever you go, there’s a goat." That’s the Successory Dunkin wrote on your letter. Raoul wanted us to pass it on to you and we obliged, only because it makes him look like even more of an asshole.

the commune

---

Editor’s Note: the commune is not responsible for the way your girlfriend cut her hair. Saying she looks like a hick was a simple statement of fact, and hardly warranted your childish response. We can only hope that the unfortunate person who one day informs you of your status as a big, dumb redneck is as fleet of foot as the commune.

º Last Column: Volume 47
º more columns