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Arafat Accepts Blaine ChallengeSeptember 15, 2003 |
London, England Whit Pistol On his way back into crawl space to begin test of will, Arafat leaves supporters with one last taste of his world-famous Nixon impression. n Friday afternoon Yassir Arafat promised to go without food for 50 days, and resist ousting by Israeli forces. The pledge follows a statement by Israel that they will remove Arafat, calling him an "impediment to peace," and a challenge by street magician David Blaine who called Arafat, "all dick and no balls."
The Blaine taunt is a latest in an underreported rivalry between the Palestinian leader and the American illusionist. After 2001 show of endurance in which Blaine remained encased in a block of ice for days, Arafat reputedly called Blaine a "big fakecicle." Blaine angrily invited Arafat to out-do his endurance test, and the Palestinian leader responded by sealing himself in his compound in the West Bank under Israeli assault and hasn't been outside but briefly since fo...
n Friday afternoon Yassir Arafat promised to go without food for 50 days, and resist ousting by Israeli forces. The pledge follows a statement by Israel that they will remove Arafat, calling him an "impediment to peace," and a challenge by street magician David Blaine who called Arafat, "all dick and no balls."
The Blaine taunt is a latest in an underreported rivalry between the Palestinian leader and the American illusionist. After 2001 show of endurance in which Blaine remained encased in a block of ice for days, Arafat reputedly called Blaine a "big fakecicle." Blaine angrily invited Arafat to out-do his endurance test, and the Palestinian leader responded by sealing himself in his compound in the West Bank under Israeli assault and hasn't been outside but briefly since for almost two years. A courier allegedly carried a hand-scrawled note from Arafat to Blaine, reading, "How you like them apples?"
Them apples Blaine did not like apparently, as he began his most recent stunt Sept. 6, staying in a suspended see-through box hanging over London and going without food for 44 days. When Blaine's safety monitors were asked why 44 days specifically, they told reporters it was the scientifically-calculated limit a man could survive before his last few fans lost complete interest.
Not to be outdone, Arafat again pressed forward with some help for old nemesis Israel, promising to lock himself up in a tiny crawlspace and going without food for a full 50 days. Skeptics and people who don't like him say it is madness to attempt to live without food, surviving only on water and whatever's left in his beard for that long.
Unlike Blaine, Arafat was not a prick about granting interviews to reporters. When questioned about the troubles his organization and himself are facing from Israel, Arafat responded: "It is a very small crawlspace. Very tiny and cramped. I can barely move in there, and only meditation and praying to Allah can take my mind of the severe discomfort. Since I have only started, it is not so bad right now. But within a few days I will be in for a real hurtin', boys."
Arafat invites fans to check in on him at his website www.yassirthatsmybaby.com, while Blaine is invited to sniff his hairy backside. A webcam was installed in the crawlspace so fans can make sure Arafat is not pulling a fast one and sneaking out on the side for a bite of McDonald's.
Professor Ebb Wright, from Oxford's Department of Middle Eastern Politics and Magic, explains the difficulties ahead for the Palestinian.
"It is a quite difficult and politically deft maneuver at the same time," said Wright, digging the lint from his navel and making it into a little man. "On the one hand, it will be quite a feat to survive so long on a minimal of food, to maintain one's mind and body with so little fuel. On the other hand, it's politically brilliant because Arafat can rally the support of the rest of the world and still take calls of support. However, if one is busy building a coalition to prevent military incursion, it distracts from the various Eastern trances Arafat could be using to release his mind from his body."
Intrigued, this reporter accepted an invitation to try repeating Arafat's stunt in a crawlspace in the professor's office. Though he was kind enough to transcribe the preceding article, he was unable to help this reporter free himself again. the commune news has considered locking ourselves in our offices to survive on only what's presently here, but decided we'd save it for the inevitable FBI standoff. Ivan Nacutchacokov is the commune's foreign correspondent and it's a rarity he's able to get two articles turned in without requiring hospitalization.
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 June 20, 2005
Stupid HeroesI was an avid comic collector when I was younger. Which means I was a kid who stole.
I loved comics, and couldn't keep my hands off them. At least that's what the judge said. In my defense, I only borrowed them so I could read them, bag them, and keep them for a long time to see if they went up in value. That was a lousy defense. I never should have defended myself. But I was only 10, I don't know what the court was thinking. And they called me the idiot.
That's why I love to watch comic book movies. And why the movie theater always throws me out for not having a ticket. There's a lot of comic book movies coming out this year. I'm already gathering ticket stubs to get into see the big ones. Like the new Batman movie. And there's also a Fantastic Four movie. I think Cinderella Man was a comic book character, too, but I'm not gay, so I didn't read it. Not that I wasn't tempted, mind you.
When I was a kid I wanted to be in the Fantastic Four. My biggest problem, besides having no super-powers, was that I never knew which one I wanted to kill and take the place of. Probably the girl. Not that I hate women, 'cause I don't, but it would be real awkward hanging out with a married guy, his wife, and someone else. I'd be like a fourth wheel. Maybe that could be my power—all my married friends and the guy they hang out with say I'm good at it.
If I could have any super-power in the world, that would be a tough choice. I think it...
º Last Column: Penitent Penitentiary º more columns
I was an avid comic collector when I was younger. Which means I was a kid who stole.
I loved comics, and couldn't keep my hands off them. At least that's what the judge said. In my defense, I only borrowed them so I could read them, bag them, and keep them for a long time to see if they went up in value. That was a lousy defense. I never should have defended myself. But I was only 10, I don't know what the court was thinking. And they called me the idiot.
That's why I love to watch comic book movies. And why the movie theater always throws me out for not having a ticket. There's a lot of comic book movies coming out this year. I'm already gathering ticket stubs to get into see the big ones. Like the new Batman movie. And there's also a Fantastic Four movie. I think Cinderella Man was a comic book character, too, but I'm not gay, so I didn't read it. Not that I wasn't tempted, mind you.
When I was a kid I wanted to be in the Fantastic Four. My biggest problem, besides having no super-powers, was that I never knew which one I wanted to kill and take the place of. Probably the girl. Not that I hate women, 'cause I don't, but it would be real awkward hanging out with a married guy, his wife, and someone else. I'd be like a fourth wheel. Maybe that could be my power—all my married friends and the guy they hang out with say I'm good at it.
If I could have any super-power in the world, that would be a tough choice. I think it would be the power to make people forget I borrowed money from them. 'Cause that's something I need all the time. We'd corner this super-villain in a bank vault, me and the rest of the Fantastic Four, who I now lead, and I could just borrow all the money from him. Tell him I'm late with the rent or something, or my mom needs hangnail surgery. Some cool story. Then, he defeats the rest of them and asks for the money back, and I'm all like, "Dude, I paid that back to you weeks ago." And he gets real mad, but he believes it, and has no choice but to go to jail. I haven't worked all of it out, but I think I'm on the right track.
I could be called the Borrower. It's better than Thieving Asshole, and I think that's taken already anyway.
I wouldn't want any of the other Fantastic Four's powers. The Thing is all made of rocks. Dude, have you ever been hit with a rock? That shit hurts. So whenever he punches anyone it's like someone threw a rock at his hand. Great idea, Eisenstein. And there's the Invisible Chick… so what, big deal. I go to parties and people already can't see me there. Got that power. Then there's the Human Blowtorch. He uses his power to burn all his clothes off. I've tried that before, trust me, it's a dead end street. You just end up having to buy more clothes and neighbors file a complaint with the police department.
Then there's Dr. Fantastic, who has the greatest powers in that team. He can stretch over and pick things up. Can you imagine that? Throw the remote control out the window, who needs it? No more are the chips out of reach… ever! I wonder if that feels like work, to stretch real far. I hope not.
If I had that power… well, let's just say I've solved the problem that's always bothered mankind. No more waiting for the commercial to go to the bathroom. Sweet. º Last Column: Penitent Penitentiaryº more columns
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|  September 29, 2003
Video Games Killed the Child StarI can't wait to be a video game.
Didn't you hear already? I know most of you, I heard "web-literate" is the nice way to say it, are all about video games. So I figure most of you know. In case you didn't, I'm on my way to being a video game!
It's not for my outstanding columning, or for my world-famous role in Who's Your Daddy? Not even for my movies. I'm being rewarded long-lasting video game fame thanks to my part in the Metallichick comic book.
At long last, some lasting legacy for Clarissa Coleman! I don't have to worry about being locked into the '80s because of my stupid TV roles or movie appearances. I'll be timeless, like Ms. Pac-Man. Of course, it's just called Metallichick, but by the time I get done telling everybody it won't be a mystery who provides that unmistakable image for Metallichick, as well as the voice.
It took some convincing, I had to pull some strings with Nat Herschel, the creator of Metallichick, but I convinced him it was good for all involved if I did the voice for Metallichick, too. I told him I knew the character inside and out, I had devoted a lot of work to developing her personality—how she arched her back, why she stuck her ass out so far when holding her sword, all kinds of stuff. I even told him I came up with a backstory of how she keeps her costume in place, like they evolved past duct tape in the future she lives in. Of course, I didn't, but you got to be smooth with these...
º Last Column: Killer Coleman º more columns
I can't wait to be a video game. Didn't you hear already? I know most of you, I heard "web-literate" is the nice way to say it, are all about video games. So I figure most of you know. In case you didn't, I'm on my way to being a video game! It's not for my outstanding columning, or for my world-famous role in Who's Your Daddy? Not even for my movies. I'm being rewarded long-lasting video game fame thanks to my part in the Metallichick comic book. At long last, some lasting legacy for Clarissa Coleman! I don't have to worry about being locked into the '80s because of my stupid TV roles or movie appearances. I'll be timeless, like Ms. Pac-Man. Of course, it's just called Metallichick, but by the time I get done telling everybody it won't be a mystery who provides that unmistakable image for Metallichick, as well as the voice. It took some convincing, I had to pull some strings with Nat Herschel, the creator of Metallichick, but I convinced him it was good for all involved if I did the voice for Metallichick, too. I told him I knew the character inside and out, I had devoted a lot of work to developing her personality—how she arched her back, why she stuck her ass out so far when holding her sword, all kinds of stuff. I even told him I came up with a backstory of how she keeps her costume in place, like they evolved past duct tape in the future she lives in. Of course, I didn't, but you got to be smooth with these creative types to get future work. I got to go out to this studio in New Jersey and record the video game character's voice, and it takes a whole shitload of time. I've done DVD commentaries before and even did some voice work, once in a while. None of it compares to all the video game voice work. Apparently these characters talk a whole fucking lot. They open a box and just say what they found, all sorts of dumb stuff. No one does that in the real world. Well, my dad does, but no one else. Every video game shouldn't be about my dad. I try to inject some realism here and there, but these video game directors are harder than real ones. Here's a pop quiz: You get shot with a laser blast or chopped with a sword, which are you more likely to say? "Aaarrgh!" (extra stress on the 'g'), or "Fuck, dude!" If you said the second one, give up on a career doing video game voices. They would not have it. And apparently it's more fashionable when you're slaying baddies to shout, "Let my sword guide you to hell!" instead of, "Boo-yah, bitch! Hope you got Medicare!" Which is why I tried to tell them about my idea for a video game. This whole "sword and sci-fi" crap is okay, but you're just giving folks what they already have tons of. Comic book video games have seen their day. Celebrity video games are the way of the future. I know if I wanted to have real fun I would rather live a day in my life than some sorceress with a broadsword. We could do all kinds of crazy shit. I wake up, can't find the cereal, it's like a little adventure until I remember I poured it over my mashed potatoes the night before and it's in the living room. My agent phones and I have to hear about his glory days when he used to manage Liza Minnelli, and I try to get him off the phone before my boredom level kills me. Ramrod Hurley calls and tells me the commune needs its column by 5 and I have to whip out some bullshit in ten minutes or risk losing that fat paycheck and primo exposure. Too real, that's what the video game dorks told me. The world isn't ready for reality yet. I suppose I'd have to agree. Some days I can't even handle it. º Last Column: Killer Colemanº more columns
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Quote of the Day“How does it feel? To be on your own? With no direction home? Not even an amber alert? And nobody's bound to look in this van, so keep quiet and just try to enjoy yourself.”
-Bobby Molesterman, now doing 15-25Fortune 500 CookieNobody thought it was funny when you said you snorted your dad's ashes, so it's best not to mention going bowling with your mom's skill—your first instinct was right, nobody gets your sense of humor. Tough love is not the only kind of love, except in prison, so you'd better learn to like it. Lucky Strikes—smoke 'em if you got 'em.
Try again later.Top Reasons for Honking| 1. | Air-horn busted | | 2. | Thought I saw nipples | | 3. | Rat-in-road! Rat-in-road! | | 4. | Song needed a horn part | | 5. | Lonely | | 6. | That bumper sticker is right! | | 7. | Fluent in Morse code and proud of it | | 8. | Needed to clear path on sidewalk | | 9. | I know that guy! | | 10. | Because I can | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 8/29/2005
Holy Toledo, America. I've never been to the place, but it sounds like quite the religious Mecca. What religion? I have no idea, but if it's Ohio, it's probably Shriners. That just seems to fit. Anyway, we're back and black after a wonderful vacation from the grind of viewing and reviewing. Are you all ready for the return of The Entertainment Police? Neither are we. Tough noodles.
In Theaters Now:
The Brothel Grimm That weird cartoon witch's dog is back, and he's running a whorehouse. Sure, it's been done before, but this time legendary director Terry Gilmore of Gilmore Girls fame is at the helm, and he knows how to weird shit up like a pro. From Time Midgets to What's Eating Gilbert's Grapes?, Gilmore has proven...
Holy Toledo, America. I've never been to the place, but it sounds like quite the religious Mecca. What religion? I have no idea, but if it's Ohio, it's probably Shriners. That just seems to fit. Anyway, we're back and black after a wonderful vacation from the grind of viewing and reviewing. Are you all ready for the return of The Entertainment Police? Neither are we. Tough noodles. In Theaters Now:The Brothel GrimmThat weird cartoon witch's dog is back, and he's running a whorehouse. Sure, it's been done before, but this time legendary director Terry Gilmore of Gilmore Girls fame is at the helm, and he knows how to weird shit up like a pro. From Time Midgets to What's Eating Gilbert's Grapes?, Gilmore has proven time and time again that he can spin gold into hay or blonde hair or however that Rapunzel alchemy shit is supposed to work. The scariest thing this time around was that I couldn't tell if this movie was animated or claymated or CGI or if it was made by those creepy-ass Duracell people from that Christmas Train movie. I suppose some people would find that ambiguity magical, but I have to admit it creeped the hair right off my ass and I spent most of the movie in the john. The Dukes of GazzaraBen Gazzara is back and hick as ever in this remake of his popular 70's show about Gazzara and his legendary contempt for royalty. Sure, Ben's a lot older now, but with age comes wisdom (occasionally) and in Gazzara's case, it just makes the wisecracks crankier and that much more funny. The supporting cast leaves a little bit to be desired though, since country music upstart Johnny Knoxville and that other guy don't have much to do, plus Jessica Simpson's ass suit springs a leak about ten minutes in and by the end of the film her cutoffs are looking pretty saggy. Which pretty much negates her reason for being in the film, and begs the question of whether or not J-Lo's ass had other engagements, or if there was a falling star sitting on it at the time of this film's production. The 4-Year-Old VirginSex comedies don't get any more offensive than this raunchy chronicle of a preschooler dealing with the intense social pressure to get laid. Some deep inner part of me was pained by the very concept of the film, but then I realized I was just hungry. After a box of nachos I was able to do my duty (not like that, I took care of that during The Brothel Grimm) and enjoy what Hollywood was crapping into my lap. Offensive or not, there are plenty of great jokes in the film about naptime and getting together over a couple of juice boxes, that kind of thing. But whoever penned the bit about giving 4-year-olds Viagra, could you raise your hand so I'll know to stand clear when the lightning strikes? Thanks. Wedding CrushersHere we go again with another weird Transformers rip-off about lonely killing machines who hate to see people getting married. Vince Ray Vaughn and sports magnate Owen Wilson star as the titular bots, and breathe some much needed life and levity into a script that has more emotional baggage than the Samsonite heirs. Though as with almost any comedy released these days, I missed most of the film while I was wondering what in the hell is up with Owen Wilson's nose. Seriously. If you know, send an email. And that's that-a-tat-tat, America. Hope you're finding a reason to breathe these days, if not, well then you probably can't read this anyway. Unless they've got the Internet in hell. Do you think they have in Internet in hell? Probably, but I bet it's over a really crappy slow dial-up connection, and they've got some kind of virus that inserts disturbing transvestite porn into everything. I guess that's why nobody wants to go there. That, and I hear it's full of the kind of people who forward mass emails. Yech. Until next time, I'm Roland McShyster.   |