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Shuttle Tragedy Not Even a Blip on Radar Screen Any MoreApril 14, 2003 |
Cape Canaveral, TX Snapper McGee Tragic Columbia flight may have started like this, but who can remember?
"It was the gravest and most important news of the moment. Americans everywhere felt a profound sense of grief at that tragic loss, at least until more important events occurred," said FOX anchorman Brit Hume. "It was humbling, at the time, to experience such a stirring loss for our nation, but it was understandably forgotten when the Michael Jackson interview aired, and 'American Idol' returned to TV, and after we declare...
ess than two months after the space shuttle Columbia exploded in the skies over a number of western American states, a Gallup poll reveals that at least 87% of all citizens don't even remember that it happened. Six percent said that they recall "something like that sort of happening a while back, or whatever," and another seven percent simply replied "Huh?"
"It was the gravest and most important news of the moment. Americans everywhere felt a profound sense of grief at that tragic loss, at least until more important events occurred," said FOX anchorman Brit Hume. "It was humbling, at the time, to experience such a stirring loss for our nation, but it was understandably forgotten when the Michael Jackson interview aired, and 'American Idol' returned to TV, and after we declared war on France and, uh... oh yeah, Iraq."
"We at CNN are dedicated to forging the path to the truth of these mortifying events and exposing the cause for as long as it takes," CNN anchor Shepherd Smith pointed out. "But that was provided there were no new developments in the DC sniper hearings, or Martha Stewart didn't set her Imclone stock on fire. And, as everyone knows, there were a lot of breaking stories in the days following the Challenger explosion, including- What? The Columbia? When?"
MSNBC reporter Victoria Corderi added with a giggle that she couldn't recall "even the tiniest detail of that story now. I can tell you where I had my hair done last week, though. And I can name all fifty state capitals. Want to hear? There's Augusta, and there's Birmingham, and there's... wait, is it Birmingham? Oh yeah, and I think Atlanta, or does that take the place of Augusta...? And there's definitely Albany. Definitely Albany. There's Sacramento, too, but wait, I'm getting out of order..."
Systems analyst Prudy Righteous, of Hellflung, Arizona, responded to the Gallup poll, and told pollsters that she thought she remembered something about finding a big pile of twisted metal wreckage and what appeared to be a scattering of human remains while vacationing at her parents' ranch in west Texas, but that "It all seems like a blur to me now. You know how you have those funny kind of wakey dreams, where everything seems so real, like aliens standing over your bed and anal-probing you, but you don't really remember it in the morning? It was kind of like that."
Another respondent, unemployed seasonal worker Manuel Shorthoe, of Reamer, Nevada, said that he thought he saw something bright streaking across the sky a couple months back, but added that "You guys prob'ly shouldn't pay much attention to that. I see that kind of stuff while staring at the ceiling in my living room all the time. You know. But hey, did you catch that Michael Jackson interview? Man, that guy is like a total freakin' freak, you know what I'm saying?"
When asked if they thought the shuttle program should continue in light of the now-forgotten tragedy, a full 90% responded "Heck yeah! How else are we going to get to the airport? You know how much long term parking costs there?"
Because the number of people sampled was much higher than usual -- a whopping 57,392 people responded, probably because they were all promised that Bill Gates would send them a check and a gift certificate to the Gap if they did so -- the margin for error was set at approximately plus or minus 14%. Contrary to most poll respondents, we here at the commune recall the shuttle tragedy in great detail. It was the same morning that Bludney Pludd brought lox and bagels and cream cheese to the office, trying to do a little brown-nosing, but the cream cheese was bad and gave most everyone in the office a bad case of the runs. Thanks, Bludney. Look for a little something special in your next pay envelope.
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Gas gouged in memory of hurricane victims
Documents reveal NASA sealing shuttle gas tank with oily rag
Man, there are a lot of orphans for sale on eBay
Everyone kind of a little relieved Bob Hope finally dead
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Muslims Protest Violent Cartoons by Fucking Shit Up Cheney Comrade Injured During Hunt for Bin Laden Stealers Wheel Win Super Bowl, Says Heavily Accented Man Colin Farrell Claims Responsibility for Groin Injury That Sidelined Kwan |
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 March 18, 2002
The "M" Stands for Music!Loyal followers of All Things Coleman know my middle initial is M. Those of you who keep details anally (and I don't mean that literally, disgusting thought) think that stands for Mershowitz. Nope! The "M" stands for music! Legally, too, I had it changed at 3 a.m. a couple of days ago. I didn't even know they did that in Vegas at those hours.
Everybody's talking about the 80's right now, especially 80's music. And I couldn't be happier. Finally we're getting back to what makes rock great—synthesizers and pastel spandex. This time, Clarissa Coleman's going to be a part of the New Wave re-revolution.
That's right, I've started a band. We're still debating names. Some in the band want to call it The Clarissa Coleman Experience, but the rest of them don't want us to become a novelty act or something. I personally don't want to capitalize on my prior successes, unless it makes us really popular. Still, there's other names that could do that. We're considering Stone Cold Burrito, The Fat-Ass Quakers, Your Mother Likes My Dick, and The Flaccid Band. The guys in the band aren't real keen on that last one, so we'll probably go with something else.
I'm personally leaning toward something that sounds really New Wave, like my favorite bands. I've offered Kaja-Schitzu, Spandex Opera, B.O.M. (Big Orchestra Music), The Eurothmicks (legally we can't use that), The Bobble Heads, The Taliban Twins, and Flock of Assholes. None of the band likes any of...
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Loyal followers of All Things Coleman know my middle initial is M. Those of you who keep details anally (and I don't mean that literally, disgusting thought) think that stands for Mershowitz. Nope! The "M" stands for music! Legally, too, I had it changed at 3 a.m. a couple of days ago. I didn't even know they did that in Vegas at those hours.
Everybody's talking about the 80's right now, especially 80's music. And I couldn't be happier. Finally we're getting back to what makes rock great—synthesizers and pastel spandex. This time, Clarissa Coleman's going to be a part of the New Wave re-revolution.
That's right, I've started a band. We're still debating names. Some in the band want to call it The Clarissa Coleman Experience, but the rest of them don't want us to become a novelty act or something. I personally don't want to capitalize on my prior successes, unless it makes us really popular. Still, there's other names that could do that. We're considering Stone Cold Burrito, The Fat-Ass Quakers, Your Mother Likes My Dick, and The Flaccid Band. The guys in the band aren't real keen on that last one, so we'll probably go with something else.
I'm personally leaning toward something that sounds really New Wave, like my favorite bands. I've offered Kaja-Schitzu, Spandex Opera, B.O.M. (Big Orchestra Music), The Eurothmicks (legally we can't use that), The Bobble Heads, The Taliban Twins, and Flock of Assholes. None of the band likes any of my suggestions for band names, and they keep rejecting my songs and lyrics. Personally I think "I Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Flunked My Driver's Test" was a classic waiting to happen, and "Put on A Me Suit" still breaks my heart. Sooner or later they have to let me contribute. I am the backup singer and cowbell player, after all.
We've played three shows so far, and let me tell you, "backup singer" is just a title. I steal the show and everybody knows it. I've even had the lead singer Misha tell me to keep quiet or shut-up on occasion, everybody was listening to my vocals more. We actually got into a fight at the third show, but like all good bands and families, we make up afterwards, or just don't talk to each other for a long time until it's all forgotten. Apparently that bitch Misha is taking that route.
We're yet to record any demos, we're still in the process of gathering the money. The band naturally assumed I had millions of dollars, since I'm practically a household name like Sting or Lemon Joy, and were pretty upset to find out I had no money. We even talked about disbanding the band, starting with me, but I convinced them to hang in there and with all my contacts in the business and entertainment world I could get the money together for great demos.
It's just as well since we haven't really decided on our sound. Most of the audience doesn't even know we're New Wave yet. Most of the band doesn't know it, they think we're Christian Rock, hence the working name of Jesus Fish, but once we can agree on the way we sound and our name and how we dress (I still like the idea of purple Outbreak suits) we'll be the biggest new band on the planet. This planet, folks. Warzy, eh?
In the mean time I'm just going to be the silent team leader and be a professional about my rehearsals. I still can't really sing "the Lord is my savior" without laughing. º Last Column: I've Had Plenty of Inappropriate Relationshipsº more columns
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|  February 16, 2004
The Rotten Stink of ValentinesGoddammit! Another V-Day, come and gone.
According to nebulous website statistics, one in five Americans is single, but as we know, polls taken at pornographic sites are debatable. The truth is probably somewhere in between—all my neighbors are married or in serious relationships, yet nobody at the commune can maintain a significant other for more than a week. All I know is, if those estimates are anywhere near close, that leaves a lot of pissed off people who spent last Valentine's Day stewing in their homes.
Somehow another Valentine's Day passed and I survived, and more over, I didn't get drunk and call up any ex-girlfriends on the phone. Sure, I browsed the internet looking for the loneliest blogs I could find, just for company, then I searched for a while to see if anyone else remembered that show Tales of the Gold Monkey, but that isn't really on topic. What's important is I maintained some level of dignity by keeping my indignity within the walls of my apartment.
There are different arguments about Valentine's Day, I suppose. Some would say it's a soulless commercial enterprise driven by the almighty dollar to shill tiny greeting cards, flowers, chocolates, and chalk-flavored hearts; others are retarded, and disagree. These fucks are hopelessly whipped by whatever gender's genitalia they're dating.
Whoever first expressed the need for love, for one human being to find that special connection to another...
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Goddammit! Another V-Day, come and gone.
According to nebulous website statistics, one in five Americans is single, but as we know, polls taken at pornographic sites are debatable. The truth is probably somewhere in between—all my neighbors are married or in serious relationships, yet nobody at the commune can maintain a significant other for more than a week. All I know is, if those estimates are anywhere near close, that leaves a lot of pissed off people who spent last Valentine's Day stewing in their homes.
Somehow another Valentine's Day passed and I survived, and more over, I didn't get drunk and call up any ex-girlfriends on the phone. Sure, I browsed the internet looking for the loneliest blogs I could find, just for company, then I searched for a while to see if anyone else remembered that show Tales of the Gold Monkey, but that isn't really on topic. What's important is I maintained some level of dignity by keeping my indignity within the walls of my apartment.
There are different arguments about Valentine's Day, I suppose. Some would say it's a soulless commercial enterprise driven by the almighty dollar to shill tiny greeting cards, flowers, chocolates, and chalk-flavored hearts; others are retarded, and disagree. These fucks are hopelessly whipped by whatever gender's genitalia they're dating.
Whoever first expressed the need for love, for one human being to find that special connection to another and build a lasting relationship with, is a total schmendrick. If he had been born in another era St. Valentine probably would have gone on to invent the dog whistle, another device with more espoused about it than proven. So what if a dog comes running when you blow it? Have you ever seen a dog that didn't come running to a person? They're stupid dogs. They see people and want to lick them, for whatever dog reason mandates.
Likewise, I say love is a myth. If I believed in the devil I would propose he started it as a way to complicate what could have been party city for sexual relationships in this world. You don't see animals exchanging phone numbers or discussing long-distance relationships. They know what they want and they don't confuse it with their self-esteem or worrying about how a partner reflects on them. It's not a coincidence either that animals don't suffer from broken hearts, depression, midlife crises, weight issues, or impotency—and I've seen enough websites to verify it.
I don't claim to be a genius; I may only be a seven-inch pixie with a surly attitude, but I can tell right from wrong. People who are not in relationships are miserable. People who are in relationships are miserable. If you're lucky enough to catch people during that brief period of ignorance when they think they are going to be in a relationship and find excitement in their partner and are fresh from loneliness enough so they dread going back to it, then you'll find them happy. The intelligence of dedicating your life to seeking out that one-to-two-week period in a life that lasts about 80 years, give or take cigarette consumption, it's not the brightest way to go.
Not that I have an alternative at this point. Or, I do have alternatives, but they usually end up with me getting drinks thrown in my face. I'm not advocating we drop the whole "love" deal right off the bat, but I say it wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea to re-evaluate the idea of monogamy. Elvis Costello asked what was so funny with peace, love, and understanding? That's a big question, with lots of possible answers. I'm only asking what's so wrong about paying money for sex a couple of times a month? Both you, the column reader, and the potential jurors out there I might be seeing next month. º Last Column: Patriot Chainsº more columns
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Milestones1749: At this site, in 1749, nothing happened.Now HiringBag Man. Some kind of illegal-parcel-delivering hobo needed to transport sensitive packages and sleep in our dumpster. Five years dumpster-sleeping experience required. Keeping your big mouth shut skills a plus.Top Positive Changes Inspired by Va. Tech Massacre| 1. | Public now rightfully suspicious of South Koreans | | 2. | Bush to up military spending to ensure troops aren't outgunned by Iraqi college students | | 3. | Handguns: two for the price of one, Big Dill's Gun Barn, Williamsburg, VA | | 4. | Congress to pass ban on recreational bazookas | | 5. | Grand Theft Auto: Va. Tech to carry "It's just a game" disclaimer | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 4/1/2002 Welcome back, Americanos, I hope the Oscar season left you with a smile on your face and twinkle in your eye. Here in Entertainment Policeland it's back to business as usual, sorting through the wheat to find the entertainment chaff and keeping a sharp eye on Wynona Ryder all the while. I don't know about you, but the last thing I need is some hat-stealing Hollywood brat bringing the heat down on my own private Idaho. But you didn't come here to be reminded of the harsh realities of the real world, so down with the downers and up with the Ask Roland!
Q. Rolaid, I have to admit that I was disappointed to check your column after I heard of the death of Chuck Jones, only to find that you hadn't written any kind of retrospective honoring this true Hollywood legend....
Welcome back, Americanos, I hope the Oscar season left you with a smile on your face and twinkle in your eye. Here in Entertainment Policeland it's back to business as usual, sorting through the wheat to find the entertainment chaff and keeping a sharp eye on Wynona Ryder all the while. I don't know about you, but the last thing I need is some hat-stealing Hollywood brat bringing the heat down on my own private Idaho. But you didn't come here to be reminded of the harsh realities of the real world, so down with the downers and up with the Ask Roland!
Q. Rolaid, I have to admit that I was disappointed to check your column after I heard of the death of Chuck Jones, only to find that you hadn't written any kind of retrospective honoring this true Hollywood legend. What gives, man? You too good for Chuck Jones or something?
Arty Luther, Moose Bend, ON
A. Arty, Chuck Jones truly was a Hollywood legend as you say, and karate-kicking men of his caliber really are few and far between. I'll never forget the fierce ass-kicking he delivered in Delta Force 2: Operation Stranglehold. And he always did it with a certain panache, a certain tang. I've been meaning to get around to writing a heart-warming retrospective for him since I heard the news. But the truth is I recently got a sticky hand out of a gumball machine in front of the grocery store and that's really been dominating my free time as of late. Sorry.
Q. Roland, what's this bullcrack about them having to rename the new Austin Powers movie because the bigwigs decided Goldmember (the original title) would confuse audiences who had entered a time warp and thought they were going to the theater to see the original Bond picture? What the crap, Roland?
Marcus Gomer, San Ysidro, CA
A. I'm right there with you, Marcus. This is poop of the highest degree. Only moviegoers bent out of their minds on pharmaceutical-grade nerve gas (and the elderly) could have confused the new Austin Powers flick with the original James Bond picture Goldthingy. To make matters worse, this is a blatantly hypocritical move on the parts of the bigwigs who allowed the release of In the Bedroom, which moviegoers will forever be confusing with countless films, including: In the Army, In the Basement, In the Closet, In the Bass Barn, Inna Gadda de Vito, Vinnie Bedhead, Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmother's Bedroom, Sin: the Bedroom, In a Bad Way, In Her Bad Womb: Deadly Mothers 3, Rin Tin Tin in the Boardroom, and Shaft in Africa. Not to mention cloning Ashely Judd and passing the clone off as a separate actress named Charlize Theron.
Movie reviews? I thought you'd never ask!
In Theaters Now:
All About the Berenstains
Even as a kid, you always knew it was just a matter of time before that loveable bear family went honey-nuts and tore into a crime spree. And this is the film that I think best captures what it would really be like if brother bear and sister bear both copped a massive coke habit and had to venture out of the forest to score a fix. Personally, I had envisioned a little more carnage but I guess in the end it's really a children's film so it's understandable that they'd tone down the reality of a bear attack on a Manhattan bank a little bit.
Ice Age
The eighth (and hopefully last) film in Vanilla Ice's self-styled and increasingly ludicrous "I'm the Prophet" series rewrites history with an eye for crediting Vanilla with every evolutionary leap in the history of mankind. This time around we're treated to a barely-coherent plot that was obviously stolen from a Sprite commercial, featuring Vanilla as some kind of supernatural man-god who ruled prehistoric times and could only think to use his power to have saber-toothed tigers bring him Zimas. The laughable proceedings are considerably rocked up by Ice's completely original theme song for the film, She's Cold As (*ding*) Ice, raising this picture an almost-imperceptible notch above past efforts Icecalibur and Vanilla of Arabia.
Mentident Evil
Really a novel idea here: What if a toothpaste manufacturer got fed up with their lot in life as an also-ran behind Gleem and Close-Up (the red-headed stepchildren of the toothpaste industry) and decided "The hell with it! We're putting out an Undead flavor!" Sound far-fetched? It might if the same thing hadn't happened in France last year. There probably won't be a lot of Oscar nominations thrown at this film, but there are enough exploding zombie torsos to keep all but the most bloodthirsty housewives happy, so I give it a "yes".
Picnic Room
Ah, Jodie Foster, what happened to you? Sorry film fans, but it seems like everybody is pussing out on us all at once here, as everyone's favorite action heroine and director David Finger (Fight Cuba) have turned in a film that's quite possibly the most boring thing you've ever seen. I suppose there's some appeal for audiences who are really hungry, but I personally need more suspense in a film than whether or not someone's going to pass the marmalade.
Pig Trouble
I think the movie studios are just now getting to the bottom of the sack of hate-mail they got after they put out "Babe" and didn't bother to let anyone know the movie was about a pig, of all things. Sure, it was a big hit, but how many guys went to that movie expecting to see Cameron Diaz or somebody get naked on the big screen and instead they got two hours of talking pork chops? I don't even want to count. Anyway, it looks like the studios have finally adopted the more sensible policy of marking their pig movies more clearly, and for that I applaud them. As for this specific film, how the hell should I know? Once bitten by a pig movie, twice shy my friends.
Now on Video:
Joy Ride
Shameless product-placement film based around the dish soap. This one might actually attain cult classic status because it is so ridiculous. The premise: a bunch of demographically diverse early-20's friends head on a road trip to Mexico to get soap when their local grocer runs out of Joy and they refuse to settle for the alternatives. A coming of age ensues. In the end, the film is almost redeemed by the chemistry between Katie Holmes and the rapper DMX. Almost.
K-PAX
Kevin Spacey is the DJ for this lite-rock station that broadcasts from deep space. Has kind of a Good Morning, Viet Cong appeal to it, but more than anything it pissed me off to think that the whole universe is listening to Matchbox 20. Yuck.
Sexy Bees
This funny CGI cross between Antz and Basic Instinct has got its laughing pants on, but I'm not sure if kids are going to be able to follow the "Is the murderous lesbian Queen wearing panties or not?" subplot.
Television:
Looks like old Roland McS got so wrapped up in the Oscars he forgot to do anything else with his TV in the meantime. Sorry for the lack of TV and Games, but I'm sure you weren't missing anything. Now let's see what you're not missing!
Gag the Bunny (Fox)
In the tradition of the envelope-pushing Queer Factor on Fox, this reality gameshow terrorizes Playboy playmates by kidnapping them, hauling them away in serial killer-style vans, tying them in dimly-lit basements in small farmhouses, and see who can escape first. And these girls are really in it to win, either that or they haven't been told their primetime TV game show contestants.
Baby Bop (CBS)
Not only is the entire CBS audience doddering senile old folks, now the programming execs are, too. How else could former PBS Barney co-star, the walking muppet stand-up comedian Baby Bop, get his own sitcom. I just don't buy this goofy dinosaur as a father of three and a sports column writer. Is he even old enough? Is it a he or she? I guess if you're on CBS these aren't important questions. Not up my alley, though.
Anal Reaming Controls the Universe
Now this is up my alley! But even the commune won't let me tell you what it's about. Just watch it. Yeah, it's on Fox, but these guys have absolutely nothing to lose. Trust me, every show will be doing this next year. I know I will be.
Video Games:
Freedom Force (PC)
PC gaming comes back hard with this innovative game about Honduran rebels. YOU are el capitan, YOU train the troops, YOU are the only thing standing between the evils of capitalism and the everlasting peace of communist revolution. Not available in the United States.
Resident Devo (Gamecube)
Anybody else hear Nintendo's last gasps? I thought hanging on to Mario and Luigi by the cahones was showing how out of touch they are, now they go and come up with this game based on the early '80s band. You're a landlord who rents a bunch of new apartments to these New Wave noisemakers, then have to evict them when you catch them whipping it. I'm not sure what they are, but they are not men.
Might & Management IX (PC)
PC gaming comes back hard again! This is the 13th game about a retired wizard who takes over managing a Denny's, but I guess 13 is a lucky number because they finally got it right! It's one hell of a strategy game from start to finish, if I ever finish it. You choose when to throw the old fries out or introduce the pita fajita to your thousands of customers. The fantastic designer program allows you to create your own
restaurant layout, complete with playland for kids and nap area for yourself.
That's all for this month, consumeritas! I hope it rolled your oats this time around and that I'll see your sunny faces next time the Entertainment Police wagon comes rollicking into town. Until then!
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