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 January 6, 2003 |
commune offices COMMUNE ART DEPT. Some of the newsmakers that helped make 2002 exactly 365 days long.
Yes, as we reach the beginning of a brand new news year, we look back on 2002 with more than a slight Elvis sneer of derision, like a party guest finally leaving with a heavy hangover and leaving our sofa and rug stained with vomit. 2002 may go down in the history books as, “The Year of ‘…Anyway…’”
Like a half-assed sitcom following Friends and preceding ER, much of 2002 felt squashed in-between two major news periods. Following hot on the heels of the events of Sept. 11th and the bombing of Afghanistan that heralded the War on Terror, things settled down into a dreary boredom in 2002 as Americans waited for big news events that still have yet to come&#...
002 was a banner year for news. As long as the banner said, “BO-RING!” Yes, as we reach the beginning of a brand new news year, we look back on 2002 with more than a slight Elvis sneer of derision, like a party guest finally leaving with a heavy hangover and leaving our sofa and rug stained with vomit. 2002 may go down in the history books as, “The Year of ‘…Anyway…’” Like a half-assed sitcom following Friends and preceding ER, much of 2002 felt squashed in-between two major news periods. Following hot on the heels of the events of Sept. 11 th and the bombing of Afghanistan that heralded the War on Terror, things settled down into a dreary boredom in 2002 as Americans waited for big news events that still have yet to come—the bombing of Iraq, a resolution to the North Korea situation, and any evidence Osama bin Laden is alive or dead. All original and fascinating news is being greedily reserved by the newsmakers, as if they’re holding out for a news sweeps week. Early 2002 was host to the Winter Olympics, the globally-conceded most boring of all Olympics, in the globally-conceded most boring state in the union, Utah. Thank whatever you call a God for the much-covered flap when ice-skating Canadians David Pelletier and Jamie Salé were robbed of their rightful gold medal by a sly-footed French judge, or your only memories of it would be a gaggle of fruitcakes slapping a puck with a stick in the atrocity called “curling.” Much of the early news year was limited to the images of Enron’s senior staff shrugging before a Senate sub-committee with a less-than-convincing “I dunno,” followed by footage of a shrapnel-filled site in downtown Israel as the violence that made the Middle East famous escalated to ludicrous heights, until an all-out assault on Yassir Arafat’s bunker broke the boredom very briefly. There was also Ray Brent Marsh, the Georgia crematorium owner who tossed the bodies in the lake and passed the savings on to you. Thanks to Marsh, along with multiple kidslaughter defendant Andrea Yates and the hockey dad who loved local sports a bit too much, the first few months of 2002 news were occasionally livened up by local heroes. An historical Oscar win for Best Actor and Best Actress by African-Americans Denzel Washington and Halle Berry helped draw attention away from the fact the Hollywood community now considers Opie the Best Director in its midst. Even the biggest celebrity murderer of the year was only former Little Rascal Robert Blake, leaving Court-TV to wait patiently for the shoplifting trial of Winona Ryder. Summer gave everyone a little hope for a brighter news year when nine miners faced certain doom, trapped in a mine shaft, and no one was happier when they were retrieved alive and healthy. Then the week ended and everyone went back to bitching about terrorism and the tumbling stock market. As the rate of insane presidential utterances concerning Iraq increased, Americans hit the peak of the news year when a series of sniper attacks across America finally put an end to superfluous Elvis coverage. However, it wasn’t enough to save a pisser as a news year, and after the sniper suspects were arrested America quieted once again. Republicans received a boost from a record low-voter turnout off-year election and Trent Lott’s ill-conceived pro-segregationist remarks embarrassed the Bush administration, something that is truly hard to do. News pundits have a great case for 21 st century to be the most boring yet, but the commune news is quick to remind everyone 1901-1910 was a pretty crappy decade for news and the 20 th century didn’t heat up until the sinking of the Titanic and World War I. We can make this one even better, just keep working at it. the commune news ushers in a brand new year, flashlight in hand, and making sure there’s no kids ducked behind the seats. Ramrod Hurley is the commune Acting Editor and, we must say, quite an Acting Ass, too.
 |  Aides Urge Bush to Stop Referring to Iraqi Majority as "Shits"
Text-messaging helps degenerate spelling in a new, fun way
 Heather Graham's Career Found Dead in Apartment
Cocaine, ecstasy may turn kids into awesome mutants, like X-Men
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Senator Wins Lottery, Quits "Shitty Job" epublican Senator Judd Gregg finally ran into a big steaming pile of luck Wednesday when he matched 5 of 6 Powerball numbers and won a lottery jackpot of $853,492. Gregg immediately called Vice-President Dick Cheney to let his boss know he would not be coming into work. Its about friggin time I got some good luck, Gregg told reporters in front of his home in his home state of New Hampshire. Gregg waved his winning ticket in the air frantically and laughed. Eat it, taxpayers! Im gonna be my own boss from now on! Gregg, who chairs the Senate Budget Committee and spent more than $2 million in his last re-election campaign, did admit to some sour grapes in not winning the $340 million jackpot won by an Oregon player in the same lottery. the commune's Fall Gadget Guide ts almost the time of year to start pretending youre Christmas shopping while you look for swanky new shit for yourself, and the commune is there for you with our first-ever annual Fall Gadget Guide. Join commune Tech Correspondent Mitch Kroeger as he guides you through the bewildering wilderness of the new and the shiny. Finely Aged Winemaker Ernest Gallo Corked Failure of Sirius Radio Blamed on "You Can't be Sirius!" Ad Campaign |
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 August 29, 2005
For the Last Time Deidrebane, Those Aren't the FedsDeidrebane, Deidrebane, Deidrebane. My sweet, dear paranoid Deidrebane. I don't know through which orifice crawled in these latest musings that torture your fevered imagination, but I assure you, beyond the wispiest shadow of a doubt, that the Feds are most certainly not on to us.
No, my Deidrebane, not The Fuzz either. Not the pigs, the rookers, Johnny Law, The Man, or the Blue Meanies. None of them, Deidrebane. Not one. The flower delivery man yesterday? Just delivering flowers. No secret camera in his oversized belt-buckle, my dear. I think the young man was just from Texas. I understand that kind of thing is a point of pride down there. I don't know, my dear, perhaps he won a rodeo. Or some kind of pro wrestling title. Regardless, he was not initiating a sophisticated electronic scan of our home's interior, for the purpose of compiling a detailed 3-D holographic model of our home to aid the S.W.A.T. team or armed DEA agents in a raid of our mansion. No, not the ATF either. And I don't think the CTU is a real organization, my dear.
Yes, my dearest Deidrebane, that really was the cable guy. And I don't know why he had that cast on his arm. Perhaps he fell out of a tree. Yes they do, adults fall out of trees all the time. Remember when I fell out of that Sequoia on our vacation last year? I did not think I could fly, Deidrebane, I thought we'd already dispelled that ugly rumor. Fine, I suppose you've never woken up hungry for an owl-egg omelet....
º Last Column: Don't Be Absurd My Dear, That's Obviously Not My Shit
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Deidrebane, Deidrebane, Deidrebane. My sweet, dear paranoid Deidrebane. I don't know through which orifice crawled in these latest musings that torture your fevered imagination, but I assure you, beyond the wispiest shadow of a doubt, that the Feds are most certainly not on to us.
No, my Deidrebane, not The Fuzz either. Not the pigs, the rookers, Johnny Law, The Man, or the Blue Meanies. None of them, Deidrebane. Not one. The flower delivery man yesterday? Just delivering flowers. No secret camera in his oversized belt-buckle, my dear. I think the young man was just from Texas. I understand that kind of thing is a point of pride down there. I don't know, my dear, perhaps he won a rodeo. Or some kind of pro wrestling title. Regardless, he was not initiating a sophisticated electronic scan of our home's interior, for the purpose of compiling a detailed 3-D holographic model of our home to aid the S.W.A.T. team or armed DEA agents in a raid of our mansion. No, not the ATF either. And I don't think the CTU is a real organization, my dear.
Yes, my dearest Deidrebane, that really was the cable guy. And I don't know why he had that cast on his arm. Perhaps he fell out of a tree. Yes they do, adults fall out of trees all the time. Remember when I fell out of that Sequoia on our vacation last year? I did not think I could fly, Deidrebane, I thought we'd already dispelled that ugly rumor. Fine, I suppose you've never woken up hungry for an owl-egg omelet. Lucky you, my dear.
And no, Deidrebane, it is not possible to bug a toilet. I don't even know where you got that idea. And even if you could, why would you want to? Yes, I suppose it would be an impressive engineering feat. That still doesn't answer my question. I don't think the Federal government does things like that just to prove that they can. Look, I can't stop you from using our neighbor's restroom, but I can't guarantee they're going to be thrilled about the idea. Ever since I ran over the Chunderbuns' doghouse, those people have had a serious case of the holier-than-thous. Yes, Deidrebane, I realize it was full of dogs at the time. I don't remember shouting anything about how the wood was barking. That sounds exactly like the kind of thing you would make up after a few cocktails.
Have you been watching the movies again? I suspect you have, you always get like this after one of your movie nights. Remember back when you saw E.T. and became convinced there was an alien locked in our pantry? I don't think our son ever really recovered from that broom attack, my dear. And he was practically diabetic after you'd pushed all those Reese's pieces underneath the door. No, I don't remember his name either. I think he played tennis. Perhaps shuffleboard. He definitely did something outdoors. Might have been a fireman.
And no, I don't think it's a good idea to get rid of my drug stash in case the feds come bursting through the windows in rappelling equipment, firing German shepherds in from the lawn by catapult. Do you have any idea what that would entail, my dear? I suspect that part of this house may have been constructed from illegal narcotics; I can't vouch for my state of mind at the time that I was drawing up the plans. That reminds me; if the house ever catches on fire, stay away from the upstairs bathroom. I don't think a single human being was ever meant to smoke an entire bathtub made from tar heroin.
No my dear, when the S.W.A.T. team comes, they won't ring the doorbell, and they won't be disguised as gardeners or insurance salesmen or ninjas. I don't think they have a budget commensurate to those Mission Impossible films you love so. Okay, they might have a battering ram. Would that make you happy? I swear, Deidrebane, you're starting to alarm the children. Send them outside to play with the gardeners before you give these children a complex. Yes, my dear, the gardeners have always had walkie-talkies. I swear, Deidrebane, sometimes you're like the Joan of Arc of paranoia. º Last Column: Don't Be Absurd My Dear, That's Obviously Not My Shitº more columns
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|  January 26, 2004
Second Verse, Same as the FirstI don't have a lot of time, as I recently found out I am dying. I don't know when, how long I've got left, or the circumstances under which I go, but as you can understand, it's still quite a shock. Let's jump on this pony and ride to victory.
I've recently heard the greatest invention of all time is the wheel. Did I ever get a thanks? No. It just goes to show you, never talk loudly about your ideas in bars.
The other day, for the first time, I had popcorn shrimp. Have you seen this stuff? It's not popcorn. And it's not shrimp. Only, it is shrimp, I suppose. But it's not popcorn. That's all I'm saying.
Hollywood has promised us another Daddy Day Care. Save your lies, charlatans. I'm still waiting for the Buckaroo Banzai sequel I never got.
You know what I hate? Rastafarians.
Whatever happened to Regis Philbin? You hear nothing about him anymore. It's like they erased all memory of him from existence, like someone went back in time and farted on a rare flower or something, and poof! But I remember. And I'll never forget.
Everyone knows the Second Law of Thermodynamics. But they all snicker when I ask them to explain it to me. I don't think that's right.
If you watch The Bachelor does that make you gay? A friend wants to know.
It's when I first wake up in the morning and I feel the cold sweat on my face, the shudder in my chest, and I feel like I can't move my neck...
º Last Column: First Served
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I don't have a lot of time, as I recently found out I am dying. I don't know when, how long I've got left, or the circumstances under which I go, but as you can understand, it's still quite a shock. Let's jump on this pony and ride to victory.
I've recently heard the greatest invention of all time is the wheel. Did I ever get a thanks? No. It just goes to show you, never talk loudly about your ideas in bars.
The other day, for the first time, I had popcorn shrimp. Have you seen this stuff? It's not popcorn. And it's not shrimp. Only, it is shrimp, I suppose. But it's not popcorn. That's all I'm saying.
Hollywood has promised us another Daddy Day Care. Save your lies, charlatans. I'm still waiting for the Buckaroo Banzai sequel I never got.
You know what I hate? Rastafarians.
Whatever happened to Regis Philbin? You hear nothing about him anymore. It's like they erased all memory of him from existence, like someone went back in time and farted on a rare flower or something, and poof! But I remember. And I'll never forget.
Everyone knows the Second Law of Thermodynamics. But they all snicker when I ask them to explain it to me. I don't think that's right.
If you watch The Bachelor does that make you gay? A friend wants to know.
It's when I first wake up in the morning and I feel the cold sweat on my face, the shudder in my chest, and I feel like I can't move my neck and can only stare at the ceiling—like I'm waiting, merely waiting for the end. It's those moments I feel closest to knowing insanity. But then, I have a cup of instant coffee, and everything gets better.
I just read some of this bathroom wall art—does anyone edit that stuff? The spelling is terrible. Nice gig, if you can get it.
Judge Judy has gotten way too sassy for her britches. It's high time someone in the administration step in. There's got to be some kind of constitutional clause to cover this kind of thing.
On The Jeffersons, everybody loved Bentley most. Everybody. You think the network would have played that up, but no. Pure gold, slipped right through their fingers.
I have heard before if you put peanut butter on your private parts, your dog will lick it off. Well, I can't speak for all breeds, but pit bulls didn't make for the kind of experience I envisioned.
Isn't it like 1939 all over again these days? Sure, it's different, but you know what I mean.
I lost a matchbook to a hip club back in 1965, and sometimes, when I lie in bed at night, I wonder whatever happened to that matchbook. I hope it's doing someone some good, and some day I can sneak behind their house and set their bushes on fire. Just as a distraction. To get it back.
I love British television, and I hope to buy one some day. But I hear they don't work with our power outlets. Which is just plain wrong.
I believe we're done here. I'll see you again. º Last Column: First Servedº more columns
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Quote of the Day“I have a dream… uh… nope, drawing a blank. It was clear as a fuckin' bell this morning, I swear to God. There was something about dolphins, that's all I can remember right now.”
-"King" Luther MartensFortune 500 CookieDon't be so hard on yourself, we all know mama told you not to come, but it ain't so easy when the bitch got titties til' Tuesday. Also, don't give up your dream of eating a tree like it was an ice cream sandwich, we've been charging admission. This week's lucky cancers: fingernail cancer, breath cancer, split ends cancer, silicone implant cancer.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Drug Free Vs. Free Drugs | | 2. | Twins: God's Mistake | | 3. | Uncle Macho's Flaming Tequichela | | 4. | A Fair and Balanced Look at Albino Tightrope Walkers | | 5. | Warm Weather: Who Needs It? | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 2/18/2002 What it is, America? Welcome back to the long and lonely road of Entertainment Policing. You've probably heard about most of what's gone down since the last installment of this column, including the restraining order placed against yours truly by Saul Worthington of the Bronx, New York. Sometimes the path to the truth can be littered with hardship and legal fees, that's all I have to say about that. But the important thing is that we're back, and ready with another two-weeks' worth of vital editorial nuggets pertaining to the entertainment choices you, the valued reader, must make on a regular basis. But before we get to that, how about we set the mood with a tall, cool glass of Ask Roland? No? Alright, but don't come crying to me when you wake up in the middle of the night hungry for...
What it is, America? Welcome back to the long and lonely road of Entertainment Policing. You've probably heard about most of what's gone down since the last installment of this column, including the restraining order placed against yours truly by Saul Worthington of the Bronx, New York. Sometimes the path to the truth can be littered with hardship and legal fees, that's all I have to say about that. But the important thing is that we're back, and ready with another two-weeks' worth of vital editorial nuggets pertaining to the entertainment choices you, the valued reader, must make on a regular basis. But before we get to that, how about we set the mood with a tall, cool glass of Ask Roland? No? Alright, but don't come crying to me when you wake up in the middle of the night hungry for Ask Roland! You made your bed, now on to the reviews!
In Theaters Now:
Crossroads
As part of the deal that Hollywood struck with a devil on a moonlit night back in 1927, every ten years or so they're required to put out a movie called Crossroads.
And over the years they've delivered, starting with the 1929 French truffle of the same name, continuing with the 1931 Ruskie animated flop, then the 1942 Basil Rathbone picture that succeeded solely on the merits of having an actor with a very cool name on the marquee, then there were the famously forgettable "Crossroads" films of 1955 and 1957, Bruce Conner's revival of the genre in 1976 (notice that there was no "Crossroads" film during the 60's, and look at what happened then), then after that it was ten years on the nose until Ralph Macchio's 1986 film about a blues guitarist who definitely doesn't know karate, and finally the 1996 version about a man tying his shoe that was released to only one theater in Missouri, merely to keep up the bargain.
Well, the Hollywood big-wigs are trying to make sure that doesn't happen again, and are jumping the gun early in releasing this decade's version of a lousy movie called Crossroads. This time it stars Britney Spears, everyone's favorite virgin, who I'm beginning to suspect may have made some kind of deal with the devil herself. How else can you explain the legions of 13 year-old Britney clones that clog our shopping malls and amusement parks like the backwash of brine shrimp out of a whale's ass? Sorry honey, but I think it's time to side-step your creaky old tush out of the limelight to make room for some fresh young talent. I hear there's a singing 10 year-old from West Virginia who can put her legs behind her head, you know.
Big Fat Liar
What's funnier than Jim Carrey running around like he's retarded and not being able to tell a lie? You guessed it, a 300 pound Jim Carrey running around like he's retarded and not being able to tell a lie. They promised the sequel would be bigger than the original, but none of us dared to think they were talking about Carrey's drooping leg fat. And yeah, it's pretty funny, but I have to admit it's the ultimate insult when Hollywood would rather dress up attractive people in fat suits than hire one of the many genuinely fat people available for the role.
Dragonfly
Strange new Kevin Costner flick about a doctor who's wife dies and is reincarnated as a dragonfly. Costner's character tries every kind of new-age chicanery to contact his dead wife, not knowing that she was the slightly greenish discoloration on the windshield of his Beemer all along.
Peter Pan 2: Return to Nevermind
Man, when Disney cuts a budget, they cut a budget. Not only did they shamelessly rehash one of their all-time classics by re-arranging the original footage and inserting a computer-animated wisecracking bedpan, they didn't even spring for an original score for the film. Instead, Disney's latest effort is set to Nirvana's 1991 breakthrough album, Nevermind. A great album, but talk about your bizarre creative choices! You can bet there are going to be some tykes choking on their Cow Tails when they come to the theater expecting to hear "You Can Fly!" and instead they get "Territorial Pissings." It really makes me wonder if there's anyone manning the big magic flying ship over there at Disney. If there is, they must have slept through their alarm because I think the magic boat just crashed into a Kmart.
Queen of the Damned
I've always assumed that when you walk through the gates of Hades, they'll have Queen playing at an uncomfortable volume. Apparently I'm not the only one who felt this way, since the band's first exploitation film has them booked on a sold-out tour of hell. Spankingly gay frontman Freddie Prinz Jr. eats up the screen in his musical film debut, and gets some of it stuck in his mustache. They didn't really say either way in the movie, but I've always imagined Queen would have the Village People opening for them on their tour of hell. Partly because I've long suspected they're actually the same band.
Now on Video:
13 Ghosts
What's scarier than a dozen ghosts but not quite as scary as fourteen? That's right, F. Murray Abraham. Striking the same perfect balance of creepy menace he found in Scarface, without going overboard by being hysterically, pants-shittingly scary, Abraham turns in his best performance since he played himself in The Phantom Emancipation Proclamation.
Bones
Is space-doctor turned gangsta-rapper D-Forest Kelley ready for the transition to big-screen leading man? I don't know, you might have to ask him yourself, but he sucked in this one. Even with Pam "Foxy-Boxing" Grier getting his back, I still wasn't able to believe in him as an action stud, and the attempted turns on his trademark catchphrase ("I'm not a role model, I'm a space-doctor.") ranged from the unintentionally funny to the downright pathetic.
J.Lo and Silent Bob Strike Back
They really need to beef up security on Hollywood movie sets these days, because I'm starting to feel like you can't see a movie anymore that doesn't have some clueless pop star wandering in front of the camera and gumming up the works. Sometimes they even play along like they're actually in the movie, it's pathetic. Here we have what would have been a fun family film that's totally spoiled by J.Lo and her pottymouthed antics. What kind of nickname is J.Lo, anyway? Can I get that with fruit in it?
Television:
It's nice to know even when the movies whip it out and piss all over you there's still trust old television and it's top shows to turn to. Except for the Olympics have taken a dump on my TV. So, covered in every kind of bodily waste, I sum up the highlights of the Olympics.
Marguerita Mixing
Ice sculpting is fun, but what do you do when it's done? A giant ice squirrel is about as useful as... no, stop that snide comment, there's absolutely nothing else more useless. Anyway, the Olympics have done good this year, getting the world's top lushes to come in and see how fast they can pound down the sculptures into a fine drink cooler. Roland M. will be playing along at home.
100-Meter Slip-N-Fall
Usually instead of professional athletes this competition is made up of political prisoners and dissidents. They give them two minutes to get across an icy tundra with greased feet and if they make it, they get a commuted sentence. I watch it not so much for the rousing Olympic spirit and athletic prowess as the funny falling down and busting of asses.
Ice Diving
Anybody can execute a perfect slice into water, but it takes one major bad-ass to cut through solid ice. In fact, it's never actually done. Most countries don't participate in this rare event, but the ones who do definitely have dedicated athletes. The highlight for me was China's Ting Wa Noon, who actually broke the ice. He'll probably be awarded the bronze, posthumously.
Video Games:
Simpson's Road Rage (GC, PS2, XB)
Shows how anything is funny, given a few years. The craziest racing games out there features you as O.J. Simpson circa 1994, running from the law with a gun to your head, driven by loyal buddy A.C. You have to escape the law so you can prove your innocence and catch the real killers.
Jonny Moseley: Bad Trix (GBA)
What luck is that? That stupid rabbit spends years trying to get a hold of the cereal just to find out it's poison for rabbits. Now you've got 24 game hours to find a vet and get fixed. Not a real blast, but it was interesting to find out the rabbit was named Jonny. You think they could've made that more obvious in the commercials.
Drackin' II
Nauseating game about a skateboarder who got a hold of a bad Jack in the Box burger and has his tricks and jumps interrupted by violent bouts of vomiting. Can't decide whether it wants to be a skateboarding or a vomiting game, but neither one is very good. Reminded me of my own visits to Tainted Burger, though.
Well, faithful readers, according to USDA regulations that's all I can give you for this week. Be sure to tune back in a few weeks from now for more of your beloved entertainment vittles. Until then!   |
