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Popular '80s Trend of Fearing Nuclear Annihilation BackJune 10, 2002 |
Pakistan commune Imaging Dept. Possibly coming soon to everything near you. 80s music and personalities have come back to the spotlight in recent years; '80s catchphrases, '80s TV shows have had highly-rated reunion specials. Now the ultimate '80s calling card is back in a big way: Nuclear annihilation.
Nothing quite summed up the '80s to those who remember it like L.A. Law, Richard Marx songs on the radio, the ever-looming threat of atomic destruction. With the fall of the Soviet Union and the end of the Reagan administration, however, the Cold War and the madness of nuclear annihilation passed into history, like razor-thin ties and Nia Peeples. Until now!
War on Terror, Sept. 11th, Al Qaeda, Terror Alert, India, Pakistan—all words that add up to a big return for atomic Armageddon. A whole new generation is experiencing the ic...
80s music and personalities have come back to the spotlight in recent years; '80s catchphrases, '80s TV shows have had highly-rated reunion specials. Now the ultimate '80s calling card is back in a big way: Nuclear annihilation.
Nothing quite summed up the '80s to those who remember it like L.A. Law, Richard Marx songs on the radio, the ever-looming threat of atomic destruction. With the fall of the Soviet Union and the end of the Reagan administration, however, the Cold War and the madness of nuclear annihilation passed into history, like razor-thin ties and Nia Peeples. Until now!
War on Terror, Sept. 11th, Al Qaeda, Terror Alert, India, Pakistan—all words that add up to a big return for atomic Armageddon. A whole new generation is experiencing the icy fear that, at any moment, the sky could turn red and rain death from above. A feeling most baby-boomers thought they would never live to feel again.
"I knew all the Reagan kids were communists or homos," said '80s nostalgia-lover and General Foods employee Ruby Tuesday. "Who knew there were more Bushes out there, even dumber and more terrifying than Reagan himself?"
But giving all the credit to one man for the resurgence in possible nuclear retaliation might be morally satisfying, but would be overlooking the heightened animosity throughout the world. Religious-based hate, intolerance, imagine or assumed grievances by the dozens, and we can't forget the re-emergence of decades-old historical-based conflicts.
The current heated debate between India and Pakistan over the disputed territory of Kashmir provides the biggest potential for nuclear destruction since the Bay of Pigs. Perhaps encouraged by the paranoia in the air following the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks, old territorial arguments over which country has claim to Kashmir sparked talk of nuclear war with the newly-nuclear capable countries.
But nuclear destruction fans aren't pinning their hopes on that bad blood alone; Osama bin Laden and his Al Qaeda group are possibly still out there, very active, and possibly capable of a nuclear assault of their own, and the likely target is on the continental United States.
"It's a fantastic new century for us '80s buffs," said '80s Preservation Society President Rold Hansard. "First there was that Laverne and Shirley reunion movie, then that Facts of Life reunion movie. Alf is back, even if it's just for commercials, but now that ultimate hallmark of the '80s—the threat of nuclear Armageddon—is back, and I couldn't be more pleased, as well as terrified." the commune news thrives on the thrill of the hunt, or perhaps just Hunt's ketchup. Ramon Nootles is now available in duck flavor.
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‘Black Friday’ Sales Slow; Black People Blamed he nation’s African-American community had to bear another injustice over the weekend as it was revealed the sales on their own personal super-saving shopping event, “Black Friday,” were moderate at best. Undoubtedly, the responsibility for the lower-than-projected sales will fall squarely on the shoulders of the black community. “Sales were not as high as initially expected,” announced economical tool and white person spokesperson Neil Van Hurst of Columbia University’s School of Business. “This is owed mostly to continuing downward spending trends in recent holiday seasons.” And its all the fault of black people, Van Hurst all but said. Child Left Behind recent round of standardized DMAS testing in America’s elementary schools has revealed that in spite of President Bush’s ambitious “No Child Left Behind” education policy, at least one American child has been left way the fuck behind. “I don’t like schoolin’,” explained eight-year-old Topeka, Kansas boy Rodney Camaro, exhibiting numerous symptoms of left-behindedness, including messy, uncombed hair, untied shoelaces, a poor vocabulary and a fondness for pro wrestling. Camaro was brought to the attention of education officials earlier this week when test results revealed that someone had actually scored a zero on last month’s DMAS, a feat previously thought mathematically impossible. Isaac Hayes Recognized on Bad Mother’s Day 'Paris Hilton Autopsy' Sculpture Signed to Three-Picture Deal |
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 April 18, 2005
Satellite Killed the Radio StarsYou may have read about my A.M. radio station and the hostile buyout Clear Channel is attempting. But of course I have other problems to worry about, so that's just the pus-filled boil on the sore foot. Which is a nasty version of the "icing on the cake" cliché. I'm getting married in just a couple of months, so you can imagine I'm pretty distracted with all those details and trying to get a divorce from my current wife. Then there's always planning the big event… Girl Elvis vs. roommate Lee in one of the biggest matches ever to be courted by the Fox network.
So it's not like I needed something else to draw on my time. But this X-M radio is a severe letdown.
I went through all this time and effort to get the thing installed, which mainly involved the Sears guy fiddling with the stereo area while I hovered over him, arms crossed, tapping my foot, and asking what the hell the hold up was for a hundred hours. Actually, that's an embellishment—at 3'9" I don't exactly hover over anybody, but I've made an art out of hovering under them.
This is neither here nor there, surprisingly off-topic for one of my columns. I take issue not with the slowness of the guy (another column, another tirade) but with the failure of X-M radio to live up to my unrealistic expectations. They promised commercial free, and technically, they give it to you, since there's no commercial support. Imagine my supreme disappointment to find out they still employ...
º Last Column: Match of the Century º more columns
You may have read about my A.M. radio station and the hostile buyout Clear Channel is attempting. But of course I have other problems to worry about, so that's just the pus-filled boil on the sore foot. Which is a nasty version of the "icing on the cake" cliché. I'm getting married in just a couple of months, so you can imagine I'm pretty distracted with all those details and trying to get a divorce from my current wife. Then there's always planning the big event… Girl Elvis vs. roommate Lee in one of the biggest matches ever to be courted by the Fox network.
So it's not like I needed something else to draw on my time. But this X-M radio is a severe letdown.
I went through all this time and effort to get the thing installed, which mainly involved the Sears guy fiddling with the stereo area while I hovered over him, arms crossed, tapping my foot, and asking what the hell the hold up was for a hundred hours. Actually, that's an embellishment—at 3'9" I don't exactly hover over anybody, but I've made an art out of hovering under them.
This is neither here nor there, surprisingly off-topic for one of my columns. I take issue not with the slowness of the guy (another column, another tirade) but with the failure of X-M radio to live up to my unrealistic expectations. They promised commercial free, and technically, they give it to you, since there's no commercial support. Imagine my supreme disappointment to find out they still employ DJs!
DJs? What is this, the 1960s? Is one song fading out and another fading in such a frightful concept that we need the banter of vanity voices to break up the constant play? It's damn ridiculous, radio industry. As a nation, we've outgrown DJs. As for VJs, they were never a good idea. The writing in the corner can perfectly inform me of the name of today's one-hit wonderband. DJs we've allowed for a little longer, since the radio isn't a visual medium, and the last thing I need is another car wreck while I call the radio station to find out who performed the last song. But those days are gone.
We have all-digital equipment now, not to mention cellphones you can operate with one hand. Modern radios with scrolling text can tell us who played the previous song, and if we wanted the other accoutrements of a live DJ, I'm sure they could tell us it's warm outside and insult our musical tastes as well. I refuse to pay a monthly service fee for space-age commercial-free radio and then listen to the prattling of a DJ like I'm a goddamn caveman trying to start a fire in his rumbling beast-like horseless carriage on the way to the commune each morning. Or whenever I choose to skip work and go elsewhere, but that's my business.
So naturally I ripped the guts out of my car and sent them the whole contraption back in a box, along with some parts that I think were motor-oriented, since the car no longer runs. But I made my point, and I'll expect a full refund on the whole thing. I would try Sirius, but I doubt they'd be much of an improvement—and frankly, I soured on their venture ever since they turned down the slogan I proposed: "Radio? Get Sirius!" That's just poor foresight, my satellite friends.
So I'm back to square one, with nothing to listen to on my drive to work, should I ever get the car working again. I mean, there's always KROK, the all-Rok Finger favorites radio station that I own, but hearing all that music only I like all the time gets a little monotonous. And it would leave me with little to complain about, regarding this whole X-M radio deal.
Did I mention how slow the guy installed it? You'd think he was getting paid by the hour. Which he was. º Last Column: Match of the Centuryº more columns
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|  December 24, 2001
Why Not Have Two Christmases?Ladies and genitalmen, I am filled up to my ears with Christmas cheer! And, to a lesser extent, liquid opium. Each year around this time I am amazed and bewildered when the same ol' jingle bellsy, silent nightish, away-in-a-mangeresque feeling creeps back in like Rudolph guiding Santa's sleigh flying low under radar. In some ways, when it comes to Christmas, I'm just a big kid, and I mean in a good way, not like the rudenik teenagers making fun of me as I shop for suits in the children's wear section of Sears refer to me as a big kid.
Which prompts the question, why is Christmas celebrated only once a year?
Around this time, as people's thoughts turn to the needs of their fellow man, and his live-in girlfriend, as children stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed with their sloppy noses pushed up against toy store windows with wonder until the fire hoses are turned on them, as children hang their stockings or those of dad's mistress by the fireplace with hopes of sugar hill gangs and such in their head, some people become a little misty-eyed and get a lump in their throat wondering, why can't Christmas be every day of the year?
Well, that's moronic, it would lose all meaning to have it happen every day of the year. Such a preposterous notion clearly is the work of someone who has little or no foresight or clue as to how the world actually works and makes me want to grab said person or persons and shake them until one of us has a stroke. No,...
º Last Column: There is No "I" in "Camp Songs" º more columns
Ladies and genitalmen, I am filled up to my ears with Christmas cheer! And, to a lesser extent, liquid opium. Each year around this time I am amazed and bewildered when the same ol' jingle bellsy, silent nightish, away-in-a-mangeresque feeling creeps back in like Rudolph guiding Santa's sleigh flying low under radar. In some ways, when it comes to Christmas, I'm just a big kid, and I mean in a good way, not like the rudenik teenagers making fun of me as I shop for suits in the children's wear section of Sears refer to me as a big kid.
Which prompts the question, why is Christmas celebrated only once a year?
Around this time, as people's thoughts turn to the needs of their fellow man, and his live-in girlfriend, as children stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed with their sloppy noses pushed up against toy store windows with wonder until the fire hoses are turned on them, as children hang their stockings or those of dad's mistress by the fireplace with hopes of sugar hill gangs and such in their head, some people become a little misty-eyed and get a lump in their throat wondering, why can't Christmas be every day of the year?
Well, that's moronic, it would lose all meaning to have it happen every day of the year. Such a preposterous notion clearly is the work of someone who has little or no foresight or clue as to how the world actually works and makes me want to grab said person or persons and shake them until one of us has a stroke. No, that's ridiculous, we need a way to preserve how special Christmas is and yet still not have to wait a whole other year for it to occur. So I've come up with the perfect solution: Two Christmases!
Obviously the key ingredient is spacing it out properly. Having Christmas in November would steal all the joy out of the original Christmas in December, and we'd be eating enough turkey to slip into a seasonal winter coma from all the L-triptophane. Likewise, if we put it in January it would begin to grow on your nerves. Sure, I like the idea of getting a second chance to buy a better gift for some loved one based on how poorly they reacted to the first, but the logical answer here is to space the second Christmas out far enough to really appreciate it.
The clear answer for me is July. When in July? I was getting to that, you needn't be so pushy.
I say July 4th, good people. What about the Fourth of July, you ask? What about it?
Let's celebrate Christmas in the middle of summer, feelin' hot! Hot! Hot! A shorts-and-tank-top Christmas, a Jimmy Buffett-by-the-fireplace Christmas, a tequila-and-ribs-for-Santa Christmas. Let's start new traditions, I say. Let fireworks light the way for Santa! The kids can hang their wet swimsuits on the porch for Santa to fill up with presents; whimsical and practical.
New Christmas specials for a new holiday. It's A Christmas Sunburn, Charlie Brown!, Perry Como Live From Rio de Janiero. Bing Crosby's Dreaming of A Sweltering, Fuzzy Christmas. Sure, most of those people are dead already, I don't keep up on new celebrity but surely someone could fill their fossilized shoes.
Christmas is way too special to be just once a year. And people say Christmas is about the birth of Jesus and the celebration of his life, but I say Christmas is more than that: It's big, glossy, commercialized and holds little to no religious meaning. Why limit that to only once a year? º Last Column: There is No "I" in "Camp Songs"º more columns
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Milestones1983: Night Ranger releases seminal hit Sister Christian, inspiring the unfortunate tone-deaf singalong by Ivan Nacutchacokov that resulted in his lifetime Greyhound bus ban.Now HiringCowboy Bebop. Not really sure what this is, to be honest, but Red Bagel telegrammed to demand we hire one. Two if they come in a matched set. So there you go.Least Anticipated New TV Series| 1. | CSI Iraq | | 2. | The Farting Flannigans | | 3. | JAG's Pal | | 4. | The show where the former movie star washes up on a TV sitcom | | 5. | The Following Friends Time-Slot Show | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Frank Niebaum 4/15/2002 Midnight SnackAll the summer dumplings want to eat me alive,
I get a hostile greeting even before I arrive!
Oh me oh my, I've pissed off the pie!
What an unfortunate fate!
Why'd I have to delve into the custard so late?
Now my gentle dreamland has been turned all amiss,
Not a single baby here to give me a kiss!
No hills made of quilts, no drummers on stilts,
My dreamscape has gone all wrong!
Goodbye to Brahms and hello to this Zydeco song!
Moon, my friend, oh what I'd give to see your wide smile,
Every cake I bite into is filled with a file!
No cow up there jumping, the breastmilk is pumping,
The little dog's barfing up crack!
The spoon is gone, the plate is having a heart attack!
Why'd I have...
All the summer dumplings want to eat me alive,
I get a hostile greeting even before I arrive!
Oh me oh my, I've pissed off the pie!
What an unfortunate fate!
Why'd I have to delve into the custard so late?
Now my gentle dreamland has been turned all amiss,
Not a single baby here to give me a kiss!
No hills made of quilts, no drummers on stilts,
My dreamscape has gone all wrong!
Goodbye to Brahms and hello to this Zydeco song!
Moon, my friend, oh what I'd give to see your wide smile,
Every cake I bite into is filled with a file!
No cow up there jumping, the breastmilk is pumping,
The little dog's barfing up crack!
The spoon is gone, the plate is having a heart attack!
Why'd I have to eat those dozen Cadbury eggs?
Why not leave the chocolate bunny, or at least his legs?
That damn midnight snack that I wish I had back,
Oh please dear God let me wake!
At least get these sheep to rehab, for goodness sake.   |