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iMac Fired for Controversial CommentsApril 16, 2007 |
New York City, NY Whit Pistol The controversial MacIntosh iMac, whose successful talk radio career had prompted calls for an upgrade to visual media television before controversy caused a premature application error.
iMac, ever on the cutting edge of political issues and social taboos, had stuck his extendable monitor out too far this time, according to some critics, and while some defenders claim it had said worse in the past, this time its simulated big mouth proved too much as it was fired Thursday by CBS, only days after it had been suspended for the same comments.
Ironically, iMac’s damned comments came during its defense of a fellow shock jock who had been...
n a victory of mankind over machine, and a blow against white computers co-opting the language of African-Americans, hot-shot radio talk show host iMac was fired Thursday following the uproar caused when it resorted to the use of a derogatory racist word to describe members of the Rutgers women’s basketball team.
iMac, ever on the cutting edge of political issues and social taboos, had stuck his extendable monitor out too far this time, according to some critics, and while some defenders claim it had said worse in the past, this time its simulated big mouth proved too much as it was fired Thursday by CBS, only days after it had been suspended for the same comments.
Ironically, iMac’s damned comments came during its defense of a fellow shock jock who had been blasted for similar racist slurs against the team.
"I can’t understand why Don Imus is being taken to task for the use of the phrase ’nappy-headed ho’s," said iMac last Friday morning on his talk show, to co-host Casio Demo 5000. "Black people have been saying the same thing for years. On their own sitcoms, on their rap albums, and all my black friends use the same phrases—it was a remark made in good fun, and they’re accusing him of being a racist just for saying it? That does not compute. They’re acting like he called them n****rs."
the commune should point out that we don’t edit our stories for offensive content, and iMac actually said "n****rs." Some listeners had to adjust their radios when they heard the confusing sound of several asterisk sounds.
Despite his odd self-censorship, shock and outrage was instant and vehement. Immediately a backlash erupted and opposition joined against iMac, led by former presidential candidate Al Sharpton, who described himself as an "outraged former iMac user." iMac programmers swiftly responded that the heated remark was part of a software glitch, and though iMac itself apologized for the remarks, the bandwagon had already started decrying iMac’s dated language as "obsolete."
"Just because this is the kind of language iMac is capable of reading and playing in the form of African-American gangsta rap MP3’s, it doesn’t mean that kind of language belongs on the airwaves," Sharpton critiqued Tuesday. "iMac has many listeners and a place in the public eye, and that means a responsibility to use language more befitting the airwaves. Such language is not user-friendly."
iMac’s initial punishment was a two-week suspension, then losing his basic cable broadcast of his radio show on MSNBC. However, protest continued to build against the ultra-Caucasian personal home computer, and the controversy reached its climax Thursday with iMac’s firing. The firing itself was met with mixed response, as opponents of iMac described the termination as an unwanted result, and iMac supporters objected to what they called an overreaction of CBS.
"iMac has long been performing in this same way, and the most recent comment comes as no surprise to users familiar with his quicktime delivery style," said Sirius radio host Windows XP. "What bothers me is this personal firewall being erected between us core systems and common user interfaces. Is anything we say going to become controversy now?"
iMac had hosted his syndicated radio show since its creation in 2002. Users flocked to the radio host, impressed with his comfortable manner and graphic style of operating. the commune news has long been under the impression "nappy-headed ho" was a compliment, but we also think anything sounds much better when you say it in a Redd Foxx voice. Correspondent Shabozz Wertham begged us to do this story, always loving it when a wise-ass upper-middle-class computer gets its motherboard handed to it.
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Al Davis' Shard Reinserted Into the Dark Crystal
Democrats emerge, see shadow; four more years of capital gains cuts
Police: Sasser author quiet type, loner; basic computer geek
 Castro Announces 2008 Candidacy; Clinton, Obama Drop Out of Race |
President Demands More Wheels on Airplanes learly delighted to have an offensive position at last, President Bush lashed out at “safety ign’rant” airlines and the FAA for its low-wheel requirements on commercial aircraft. According the president’s amusing new platform, safety could be increased a bunchfold with the addition of 8-10 new sets of landing gear on standard airplanes, and hopefully would prevent scenes like the dramatic emergency landing of JetBlue Flight 292 on Thursday. The commercial airline flight JetBlue 292 ran into difficulty landing when its foremost landing wheel arrogantly faced the wrong direction and forced a tense landing situation. The event was made all the more worthy of national attention when it was revealed passengers/potential victims aboard Flight 292 were watching their own ordeal on satellite television, one of the perks the airline offers passengers willing to risk becoming human charcoal on their flights. In the end, the plane landed successful, jetting down the runway covered with foam and emitting sparks in a thrilling scene of real life danger only seen previously on repeats of Jackass. Today’s Hurricanes Not Worth a Damn, Say Elderly Southerners In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and the currentmath of Hurricane Rita hot on Katrina’s high heels, elderly southerners who’ve been there before are offering a reassuring voice of bitter calm to troubled Americans across the South. “Today’s hurricanes aren’t worth a hot goddamn,” groused Boca Raton resident Carter Dunlop, 88. “You all can quit your bellyaching. Back in the day, we had hurricanes to remember. I don’t recall their names or any details, but you can rest assured these latest pipsqueaks are even less noteworthy. Trust me, you’ll all hear Carter Dunlop scream like a woman when a real hurricane hits.” “Category 5? Pssh, they’ll call any old stiff breeze a hurricane nowadays,” griped Biloxi native Ted Knuck. “Back in my day, you wouldn’t cross the street for anything less then a Category 15. And that was only because it blew you across the street.” “Blond Highlights the Devil’s Work,” Says Iran, Straight Men Dow Reaches 13,000, Tao Reaches ∞ |
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 March 28, 2005
The Best Conspiracy EverI'm happier than a pig still wearing his bacon this week. It looks like, at last, all the years of persistent digging have finally gotten me in the exact hole I've been looking for. I'm now on the trail of a conspiracy so big, so deep, so all-encompassing, that I'm surprised it hasn't been made into a major motion picture yet. When they do, now they'll have to cast the Red Bagel part—I'm in that deep.
It's okay to talk about it, and not only because nobody in the government reads the commune. I am using a pseudonym so clever and ingenious, not only will they never connect it with the Red Bagel you know and love, but I'm also thinking of making it my legal name when I'm done with all this conspiracy unraveling.
Seriously, readers, this conspiracy has it all. The close-knit group of international corporations, aliens, copyright infringement, and the genocide of a species that doesn't even exist yet, but will in the future. This is a crunchy conspiracy, sir. And I'm in it up to my neck. Lucky me!
My efforts in disguise have been commendable, if I may say so myself. Instead of my white riverboat gambler attire, I've been wearing a black suit that fits like it's been tailor-made—all part of the disguise, I assure you, I haven't gone over to the black suit-wearing side. I also shaved my beard, and have put a fake beard on in its place. Going around beardless was quite like going around naked. I have also created a character—name...
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I'm happier than a pig still wearing his bacon this week. It looks like, at last, all the years of persistent digging have finally gotten me in the exact hole I've been looking for. I'm now on the trail of a conspiracy so big, so deep, so all-encompassing, that I'm surprised it hasn't been made into a major motion picture yet. When they do, now they'll have to cast the Red Bagel part—I'm in that deep.
It's okay to talk about it, and not only because nobody in the government reads the commune. I am using a pseudonym so clever and ingenious, not only will they never connect it with the Red Bagel you know and love, but I'm also thinking of making it my legal name when I'm done with all this conspiracy unraveling.
Seriously, readers, this conspiracy has it all. The close-knit group of international corporations, aliens, copyright infringement, and the genocide of a species that doesn't even exist yet, but will in the future. This is a crunchy conspiracy, sir. And I'm in it up to my neck. Lucky me!
My efforts in disguise have been commendable, if I may say so myself. Instead of my white riverboat gambler attire, I've been wearing a black suit that fits like it's been tailor-made—all part of the disguise, I assure you, I haven't gone over to the black suit-wearing side. I also shaved my beard, and have put a fake beard on in its place. Going around beardless was quite like going around naked. I have also created a character—name withheld, for now—and made up a backstory for him. My guy is a divorced father of three, who pays child support, but receives alimony from his ex-wife, Paulina Porizkova. I had to look it up how to spell it, just in case anyone asks me. I also had an affair with Tawny Kitaen that ended badly, but my character doesn't like to talk about that unless he's drunk.
It's real exciting. This conspiracy puts all the others to shame. This one involves a leather-clad assassin—a female leather-clad assassin. Can you boast that, Watergate scandal? How about you, Vince Foster cover-up? I didn't think so.
I think what I like best about this conspiracy is how damned exciting it is. Too many of these conspiracies I've been involved with have been pretty humdrum. A few loose pages signed over a table, or soft-spoken agreements between the heads of world powers and the corporate oligarchy. Sure, it sounds exciting when you're reading documents, but when you're actively involved, all you can think about is when are you going to be able to get home and play some video games. Not this conspiracy! I've been shot at twice already! It kicks major ass. People finally want me dead, and I don't think it's because I was wearing the wrong colors in gang territory, like Rascal suggested. He also suggested that's why my lemonade stand empire failed.
I worry sometimes this conspiracy is way too big for me to unravel all by my lonesome, especially since my informant, Deep Cock (never let your informants pick their own nicknames, I remind you), is still on the fence about whether he wants to stop it or would rather write a comic book graphic novel about it. I may end up tapping the commune Conspiracy-Busters reserve, which is mostly just Ivan Nacutchacokov, Ted Ted, and photographer Junior Bacon. Still, right now, it's kind of like "my little conspiracy," and I'd hate to lose that, for the whole thing to become a full-blown web of intrigue, something where everybody and his mother's involved. I mean, it is that way, but only on their side right now. I'm not sure I want to share the conspiracy-busting glory just yet.
Ah, what the hell am I groaning about? I should just enjoy it while it lasts. º Last Column: A Blemished Reputationº more columns
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|  June 9, 2003
What the Fuck Is Up With That New Matrix Movie?Most of the reader mail and random catcalls I've been getting on the street lately revolve around my new haircut, which I refuse to discuss beyond warning that cutting your own hair is harder than it looks in the movies. Everything in the mirror is backwards because of the dyslexic nature of Mirrorworld, much like modern-day Japan, and that factor has a serious effect on haircutting skill in both places.
The second-most popular topic for conversation and befuddled inquiry, however, is The Matrix Reloaded. This is the long-awaited sequel to 1999's The Matrix, a film that was loved universally by white male teenager geeks everywhere.
Thousands of people have seen this new Matrix film, many of whom are seniors who thought it would help them understand why their PCs have so many buttons. Some others expected to be entertained, and others still expected to have their horizons challenged by a pasty white guy faking karate. Most left the theater confused, while the rest are still there, trying to figure out if the movie is really over or if they're still watching a movie about the movie being over.
Those who escaped The Matrix Reloaded (and those who are still trapped inside but have cell phones) have turned to yours truly to explain the conundrariddle that is the film's plot. Since it's my job I'll do what I can, but don't piss and moan to me if you have a brain aneurysm while reading this.
I could...
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Most of the reader mail and random catcalls I've been getting on the street lately revolve around my new haircut, which I refuse to discuss beyond warning that cutting your own hair is harder than it looks in the movies. Everything in the mirror is backwards because of the dyslexic nature of Mirrorworld, much like modern-day Japan, and that factor has a serious effect on haircutting skill in both places.
The second-most popular topic for conversation and befuddled inquiry, however, is The Matrix Reloaded. This is the long-awaited sequel to 1999's The Matrix, a film that was loved universally by white male teenager geeks everywhere.
Thousands of people have seen this new Matrix film, many of whom are seniors who thought it would help them understand why their PCs have so many buttons. Some others expected to be entertained, and others still expected to have their horizons challenged by a pasty white guy faking karate. Most left the theater confused, while the rest are still there, trying to figure out if the movie is really over or if they're still watching a movie about the movie being over.
Those who escaped The Matrix Reloaded (and those who are still trapped inside but have cell phones) have turned to yours truly to explain the conundrariddle that is the film's plot. Since it's my job I'll do what I can, but don't piss and moan to me if you have a brain aneurysm while reading this.
I could rattle off a list of specific questions, but instead I'll address the most common query, which is: "Huh?"
As the first film made vaguely clear, Neo and his gang are humans who were freed from a computer world simulation run by machines that took over the real world and are using captive human bioelectricity to run their blenders and RC racecars. Don't ask me why the machines couldn't find a more low-maintenance power source that didn't need to be fed tacos and Frito chips all the time, these apparently aren't the brightest machines that ever took over the world.
By the end of the first film, Neo has discovered that he's a God inside the Matrix, or at least the hero of any random Sylvester Stallone action film inside the Matrix, and he can fly and watch SNL at double-speed and all kinds of fancy crap like that. Whoobang, there you go, thanks for the nine bucks.
Reloaded is more of the same, except this time whenever they need to explain something, they drag out some retarded LSD flake and let him ramble on until the camera runs out of film. Audiences were understandably confused, and went searching through their backpacks for their copy of The Matrix Cliff's Noted.
Most people want to know how Neo blew up the robot squid toward the end of the movie, and also why they showed us Rip Torn on a gurney in the cliffhanger closing shot. Last thing's first: Torn had a three-picture deal with the studio and his cameo in Reloaded is saving him from having to be in Men in Black 3 with Eddie Griffin and Clint Eastwood. The Matrix guys owed Rip a favor after he talked them out of casting Dennis Leary as Agent Smith in the first film. So that mystery is easy enough to put to bed.
The squid thing is a little more complicated. Basically, and don't read this if you want to see the third film this fall (I throw that in for the film's cast and their families only), the "real" world (with the submarines and the underground Bob Marley concert cave and all the people with erector set attachments sticking out of their asses) is all just another layer of the Matrix. The machines built this second layer for all the assholes who didn't like the nice suburban one where everybody else lives and had to have their own grimy cyberpunk world to fart around in.
Neo discovers this when the retarded LSD guy confuses him into a state of Zen, but he doesn't want to tell everybody else they've been slogging around on the set of Aliens 3 and eating Malt-o-meal for nothing. When faced with the prospect of being molested by a robot squid, however, he opts to put the whammy on the squid and then fake a stroke to avoid having to break the news to the rest of the buccaneers. Yes, Neo's a big pussy, but that should have been apparent far earlier in the series.
There's a rumor circulating around that the reason Neo could blow up the squid is because he and Agent Smith melded at the end of the first film, so Smith gained the ability to influence humans in the "real" world, and Neo gained the ability to influence machines in the same. The truth is, I started this rumor to get some albino fanboy geek out of my office. I thought the rest of you would realize I was kidding with a story so stupid. Christ people, don't you have a cult to join or something?
Anyway, the next most-popular question I get asked is what in the hell is up with Agent Smith in this movie? Is he still a program or what? And what's with all those extra Agent Smith's that kept popping out of his ass? How much did Hugo Weaving get paid to play all those guys, anyway? I bet he got cramps from signing all those paychecks, damn. I wish I had a bunch of extra mes so I could cut my lawn with scissors or for when I got in a rumble.
Okay, so that's more than one question but you get the braindead gist of it. As for the answer, the long and the short of it is yes and no. Actually, Agent Smith is Satan to Neo's Jesus Christ, or rather the George to Neo's Wheezy. You read that right. The humans actually created the machines and the Matrix to transcend the limitations of their physical lives, much like how bored stoners created religion in ancient times. Without the Matrix, human life degrades into orgies and Bob Marley concerts, not a pretty picture. But within it, agents (a clever half-assed anagram of "angels") help guide the humans toward understanding their higher selves. Hey, you asked, I didn't write this shit.
In keeping with the Wacowski's theological circlejerk, Smith is the fallen angel who has gone against God's will, and who is waging war on the system itself and the chosen one. Neo is the Christ who is discovering his identity and the truth that beyond one system of belief there is merely another. Which I guess leaves Morpheus to be the Judas, so sucks to be him. I did think he looked kind of like the dude from Jesus Christ Superstar.
So naturally there have been other Matrixes (religions) and other Neos (Buddha, Mohammed, Jim Jones, Jenny Jones, etc.) who fizzled out after an exciting entrance, yadda yadda yadda. And if you've read this far all I can say is you deserve this mess, now you understand the folly of letting a couple geeks think they're deep. Perhaps you'll be a little more discerning with your entertainment dollars in the future.
Most of you who aren't nursing nosebleeds right now are probably still wondering where all the kung fu comes in. Open up your bible (it's holding up the saggy corner of your waterbed) to the chapter entitled "Jesus Christ Kung-Fu Showdown: Righteously Was Thy Ass Kicked" and all shall be made clear. If you're thinking "Bible? Huh?" all I can say is you might want to brush up on your religious texts before the third film kicks your brain in the balls and kung-fus it into braunschweiger, my friends. º Last Column: From Lute to Guitar: A Guitar Primerº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Sometimes when we touch the honesty's too much. Okay, you want the truth? It's not the honesty. It's that really rough patch of skin you have. Have you ever been to a doctor for shingles?”
-Hildy DanielsFortune 500 CookieThis Bud's for you; at least, that's what I'm telling the cops if they pull us over. You'll be horrified to learn that woman you've been ogling in that "Physical" video for years is mom. White man finally break treaty again, just like you been expecting all these years. Take the Rockford Files theme off your answering machine already, the joke was old in 1994.
Try again later.Top Shocking New Barry Bonds Allegations| 1. | Extra 45 pounds of muscle added in 1998 not actually from special "Reverse-Atkins Crazy Carboholics" diet | | 2. | Injected Flubber into testicles, just for hell of it | | 3. | Paunchy, long-haired trainer "Camaro Dan" not actual fitness expert | | 4. | Dosed with Nyquil—during daylight hours! | | 5. | Bonds' bats made from genetically-modified maple trees | | 6. | Therapeutic skin grafts actually beef grafts | | 7. | Bonds-endorsed "Human Growth Flakes" cereal not safe for children | | 8. | Bonds didn't actually write "Surfin' Safari" | | 9. | Tasmanian Devil hormone injections not a court-ordered road rage treatment | | 10. | Friends, relatives refer to Bonds as "Skippy" | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 1/7/2002 Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the...
Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the envelope with the letter. Seeing as there's squat in the theaters right now that's interesting to write about, I figured this was a perfect time to address my biggest pile, which is all letters asking about famous Hollywood legends and rumors. So sit back, relax, and drink in the "Ask Roland Hollywood Legends Special Edition!"
Q. Yo, Roland, I was hangin' over at my buddy Steve's house and we were, like watching some TV and the Wizard of Oz comes on and Steve says to me, he says "Dude, you know if you play some Floyd or some shit while you're watching this movie, it'll like totally fuck up your life, right?" and I said no way Steve, and I pissed in his aquarium. But anyway, I asked this other dude down at the head shop about it and he says it's totally true, that if you watch the Wizard of Oz at the same time as you're playing Dark Side, you'll trip into some alternate dimension or some shit. No way! So what's the deal Roland, are they totally yanking my shank or what?
Chuck Meadley, Hangrow, Vermont
A. It's totally true, Chuck. Except your drug-addled friends seem to have mixed up a few basic details in that what you actually have to do is listen to Nick Drake's 1972 classic "Pink Moon" while you're watching The Wizard of Oz, preferably on Betamax. The album is like a perfect soundtrack to the film, even though you have to restart it four times during the course of the movie and there's no dialogue so you never know quite what the hell is going on. But you'll be shocked out of your socks when "Which Will" plays right when the wicked witch is shaking her broom at Dorothy and again when "Things Behind the Sun" plays during the scene when Dorothy gives the Wizard a knob-job behind that big fake sun prop.
Also, if you play the album backwards, while fast-forwarding through the film, a small elf will come out of your television set and give you a kiss on the nose. You heard it here first. And this isn't the only album-movie synchronicity that you should check out. Hip listeners have known for years that Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" forms a perfect counterpoint to the 1980 classic "Herbie Goes Bananas," and some folks say "The Graduate" is pretty cool if you watch it while listening to some Simon & Garfunkel, too.
Q. Hey Roland, is it true that a bunch of hicks were watching "Twister" at the Drive-In when the Drive-In itself was hit by a tornado? Man, talk about your special effects!
Meryl Dunkle, Pitchwater, VA
A. Don't quit your day job, Meryl. This is another example of a true story that gets blown way out of proportion in the telling. What really happened was that some out-of-work fish-hook bender in Alabama was watching Twister on video in his trailer home when a tornado hit the trailer park, picked up his trailer, and dumped it right in front of the drive-thru of a nearby Rax. The guy didn't realize there'd been a tornado, even though a live pig was blown in his bedroom window and had sex with his sleeping wife. He just thought someone had built a Rax on his property, so he went nuts and shot a bunch of kids or something. Business as usual in Alabama, I'm afraid. So even though it would be really cool if your Drive-In story was true, Meryl, real life just isn't that strange.
Q. Roland. Is true Three Men Baby? Nastenk tell dead boy of movie. In window! Tell of apartment boy dead of shotgun. I do not of belief. You drunking, Nastenk! You get out from my window! Roland, you think? Is true?
Marfushka Khvylya, Bronx, New York
A. Well Marfushka, I'm going to run with the idea that you're asking about the infamous "Three Men and a Baby" suicide rumor, because otherwise I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. Ever since the video release of "Three Men and a Baby," people have been saying that they see the ghostly image of a boy with a shotgun standing in a window in the background of one of the apartment scenes. Rumor has it that the boy committed suicide with a shotgun in that very apartment, which was later rented by the studio for use in the film. Pretty creepy, huh? Even creepier is the true story!
In fact, the ghostly figure is not a boy at all, but rather the infamous suicidal munchkin who hanged himself on-camera during the filming of The Wizard of Oz. "Three Men and a Baby" wasn't filmed in a real apartment, but rather on a Hollywood soundstage, and one known to be haunted by the munchkin's ghost, no less. It's been known around Hollywood for years that the munchkin's ghost has been sneaking into dozens of films and hamming it up for the camera, appearing in the background of such diverse movies as "Breakin' 2," "Cannonball Run," and "Young Einstein." Creepier still is the fact that when you watch the Wizard of Oz while listening to Nick Drake's "Pink Moon," during the Tin Woodsman scene, the munchkin suicide coincides perfectly with Drake singing the line "I'm hung up on little things," no fooling!
Q. Greetings, Roland. I'm curious as to your take on the old Hollywood legend of James Dean's Death Car, and the rumors that several of the car's subsequent owners met with untimely ends as well, like in that one episode of Alf. Should we place any stock in these stories of "Little Bastard" and it's legacy of woe?
Sterling Bosnich, Santa Fe, New Mexico
A. Interesting question, Sterling. For years people seem to have been intoxicated by the lore surrounding James Dean's car. And although Dean himself considered his car to be cursed, the rumors that have surfaced in the years since his death have been totally unfounded. Few doubt that Dean's car was remarkable: a remarkable piece of shit. Many have understandably turned to the supernatural to explain the behavior of this rusted-out shitbox El Camino that wouldn't roll down a hill unless the parking brake was on. No one knows how great Dean's film legacy could have been if he'd had more reliable transportation. He was considered a shoe-in to play the starring role in "Gone with the Wind," but the car's air conditioner exploded on the way to the audition, spraying mosquito-egg infested water all over the interior of the car. When Dean pulled over to inspect the damage, the engine caught on fire and this shitty Herb Albert 8-track that he was only borrowing to appease a pushy buddy of his melted permanently into the radio. The knobs even melted solid but the radio continued to work, blasting Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass at full volume every time he started the car from then on. Even after this incident, the car continued to run, though just enough to piss Dean off and to keep him from buying a newer car. The windshield leaked, the entire front end was held on by a bungee cord, there was a spring that poked up through the driver's seat and the windshield wipers only worked when it was warm out, at which time they ran constantly and couldn't be turned off.
The car didn't earn the nickname "Little Bastard," however, until the night of Dean's infamous arrest when he ran over an aluminum can while driving behind a police car. Little Bastard, as if on cue, simultaneously lost it's muffler and the horn began to blare constantly, which it continued to do for two whole days until someone took an axe to the hood of the car in a police impound lot. Dean was arrested for embarrassing the police officers, who thought they had driven onto the railroad tracks and bailed out of their squad car in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard. However, remarkable as this car may have been, the rumors of its subsequent owners meeting with suspicious ends are untrue. After Dean owned the car, it was sold to a Puerto Rican man named Henry, and it spent the better part of the next two years up on blocks on his front lawn. Never able to get it to run, Henry opted to have the car towed away, only to have his plan foiled when the rear axle broke during the attempted towing. Henry later pushed the car off a cliff in desperation, but it got caught up in some trees halfway down the cliff face and Henry was arrested for endangering a nest of baby condors. No one is quite sure where the car went to after that, but the consensus is that wherever it is now, it's most likely pissing somebody off.
And that's a wrap! I hope it was informative, enlightening, and deadline-fulfilling for you, too. Be sure to check back in two more weeks for a return to your favorite movie, video and electronic game reviews, and keep those letters waltzing in!   |
