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 February 21, 2005 |
Washington, D.C. Junior Bacon Negroponte pauses impatiently as President Bush interrupts his acceptance speech yet again by wandering in front of the cameras
“Now this may be a case of the pig callin’ the posy pink,” folkified Bush, our national leader and self-described folk hero. “But y’all is dumb as shit.”
Surprised and appalled by his own re-election, sources report Bush quickly decided something needed to be done about national intelligence, and the lucid and well-coordinated Negroponte was the obvious answer. Speaking in complete sentences and rarely attending to bodily itches with his house keys are said to be the strong suits that brought Negroponte to the ...
n a move that surprised the slow and feeble-minded alike, President Bush appointed diplomat John Negroponte as America’s first Director of National Intelligence this week, in an attempt to shore up the nation’s failing mental defenses.
“Now this may be a case of the pig callin’ the posy pink,” folkified Bush, our national leader and self-described folk hero. “But y’all is dumb as shit.”
Surprised and appalled by his own re-election, sources report Bush quickly decided something needed to be done about national intelligence, and the lucid and well-coordinated Negroponte was the obvious answer. Speaking in complete sentences and rarely attending to bodily itches with his house keys are said to be the strong suits that brought Negroponte to the president’s attention.
Negroponte, dressed in matching colors and with all button-holes and buttons lined up correctly on his vest, accepted the new position of Intelligence Czar graciously.
“It’s about time you dumbasses got your shit together,” announced the charitable-yet-firm Negroponte. “Though the fact that you all did something this smart frankly worries me. Is there a bucket of crap dangling over my head or something?”
According to the strangely-named Negroponte, whose last name does not mean “Black Dude” in Spanish or Italian, national intelligence has been going downhill for almost fifty years, pretty much ever since The Andy Griffith Show debuted in 1960. As a corrective measure, the new Intelligence Czar has called for the immediate canceling of all reality TV, switching all broadcasts of the Spice Channel to PBS, and outlawing country music. Whether these early remedies will be successful, however, remains to be seen since slack-jawed apathy remains so firmly rooted in the national character. Word on the street indicates that Negroponte may have his work cut out for him.
“What Russian royalty have to say about intelligence is a mystery to me,” sniped freelance quote-whore Dennis Murphy. “He should put on his big fuzzy hat and go back to Eskimoland.”
A surprising number of men on the street (and two dumb-looking women) seemed to confuse the concept of an Intelligence Czar and the famous Russian leaders of antiquity. Several half-educated men were convinced all the Czars had been murdered by the Bullshitiks in the Industrial Revolution. As a result, the commune has decided to refrain from using colorful or figurative language in the future, to avoid further misunderstanding and possible bloodshed.
Oppressed Bullshitiks, however, can find Negroponte at the White House during his office hours. the commune news is not opposed to efforts at raising national intelligence, far from it: as long as they don’t touch our goddamned pro wrestling. Ivana Folger-Balzac remains on the White House beat this week because no one has yet mustered the balls to wrestle the golden “White House Beat” baton back from her icy, dirty-fighting clutches. Stay tuned for further developments.
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 April 14, 2003
Apologies to the PresidentWe continue our flip-flop on previous political stances here at the commune, and applaud President W. George Bush for his fearless perseverance to do the right thing for Iraq, no matter how many in the world disagree.
That's right. The main purpose of this column has always been to expose conspiracies and shine the golden light of truth on the hidden corners of government and the world, but piss on that—that's golden, too, you know. The president has received unending support from Americans since the start of the war, particularly Americans outside of large metropolitan areas and educated circles, and the commune wants to make it clear we support this president. As shown with Wednesday's liberation of Baghdad and Saddam Hussein's cowardly death by bomb drop, the ends have clearly justified the means.
Yes, freedom has finally hit Iraq, and knocked down the buildings and buried its people in shrapnel. Every American was filled with a sizable amount of patriotic do-gooderism seeing that giant statue of Saddam Hussein yanked down by an American tank and its head dragged through the streets. It was not unlike when U.S. troops knocked over that giant statue of Hitler in Berlin and blowtorched the mustache off—if any of you are old enough to remember that. It's too bad there weren't more televisions in households in 1945 to show that, as well as the technology to broadcast it.
In the spirit of the new, presidential-friendly commune, we...
º Last Column: the commune Knows Which Way the Wind Blows
º more columns
We continue our flip-flop on previous political stances here at the commune, and applaud President W. George Bush for his fearless perseverance to do the right thing for Iraq, no matter how many in the world disagree.
That's right. The main purpose of this column has always been to expose conspiracies and shine the golden light of truth on the hidden corners of government and the world, but piss on that—that's golden, too, you know. The president has received unending support from Americans since the start of the war, particularly Americans outside of large metropolitan areas and educated circles, and the commune wants to make it clear we support this president. As shown with Wednesday's liberation of Baghdad and Saddam Hussein's cowardly death by bomb drop, the ends have clearly justified the means.
Yes, freedom has finally hit Iraq, and knocked down the buildings and buried its people in shrapnel. Every American was filled with a sizable amount of patriotic do-gooderism seeing that giant statue of Saddam Hussein yanked down by an American tank and its head dragged through the streets. It was not unlike when U.S. troops knocked over that giant statue of Hitler in Berlin and blowtorched the mustache off—if any of you are old enough to remember that. It's too bad there weren't more televisions in households in 1945 to show that, as well as the technology to broadcast it.
In the spirit of the new, presidential-friendly commune, we would like to announce a few apologies, retractions, and corrections concerning the White House. We've given the president a good ribbing, so it's only fair we acknowledge our previous mistakes.
To start off, in the first few months following the 2000 election results, it was perhaps a little crude to refer to George W. Bush as "election-thief Bush" or "Electoral Vote Hi-Jacker Bush" as we did. It likewise may not have been in the best interest of fairness to continue the use of quotation marks on the word "president" when referring to Bush in articles.
Reports that the president's secret serviceman codename was "Captain Shithead" may have lacked the proper verification for publication, and we may have misrepresented that. Opinion columns stating that Bush's stance on race relations was similar to that of a 1850s plantation owner were probably a little hard on the president; news articles declaring the same thing were even more egregious examples of our previous bias.
The "W" in George W. Bush cannot be proven to stand for Warmonger, Whack-Job, Whitey, or Whiffledick. Any article referring to the president as Fascist W. Bush may have been typing errors.
Pictures of a long-haired, orange-jumpsuited bearded man with a swastika carved into his head may have been incorrectly identified as George W. Bush when in fact they were probably Charles Manson. The fact these photos appeared repeatedly labeled as the president cannot be explained.
Pictures of the president anally violating animals may have possibly been created in Photoshop. We have one we're reasonably sure about, but at this time we're urging careful speculation on all previous photos of the same nature.
At this time, we cannot verify the legitimacy of any quotes previously attributed to the president. On those rare occasions verification was possible, we decided not to seek it out. It's better to not know. º Last Column: the commune Knows Which Way the Wind Blowsº more columns
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|  January 7, 2002
Fortune 7It speaks elegantly about you, yet barely whispers. That's right, Montana. Birthplace of the most dramatic clock radio ever designed, and one of the toughest riding mowers ever built. Like a small boy caught in the jaws of war, like the locusts, like a noogie from your great-grandmother, Montana just is. A focus of world concern, furnished in the style of Early American in Salem maple, the pulse of sober life. The one-meal airline will whisk you to this fabled land, then bite your head off like some kind of pissed-off insect in a nature video. Early settlers discovered Montana by means of sensitive tactile hairs. Damn, that's a tough act to follow.
Montana exists, if for no other reason, to remind us of this eternal truth:
Ants have no ears at all.
You will drink a bottle of furniture polish, even though you're on a diet. Try again...
º Last Column: Fortune 6
º more columns
It speaks elegantly about you, yet barely whispers. That's right, Montana. Birthplace of the most dramatic clock radio ever designed, and one of the toughest riding mowers ever built. Like a small boy caught in the jaws of war, like the locusts, like a noogie from your great-grandmother, Montana just is. A focus of world concern, furnished in the style of Early American in Salem maple, the pulse of sober life. The one-meal airline will whisk you to this fabled land, then bite your head off like some kind of pissed-off insect in a nature video. Early settlers discovered Montana by means of sensitive tactile hairs. Damn, that's a tough act to follow.
Montana exists, if for no other reason, to remind us of this eternal truth:
Ants have no ears at all.
You will drink a bottle of furniture polish, even though you're on a diet. Try again later. º Last Column: Fortune 6º more columns
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Milestones1982: Fred Connor born, grows up to lead successful rebellion against war of the machines in 2011. Or at least he would have been, if a Terminator hadn't successfully eliminated him from history, according to Research Editor Griswald Dreck.Now HiringGood Terminator. Talking to Griswald Dreck has made us see the wisdom of employing a preventative Terminator security system, preferably a skilled Terminator robot who has been reprogrammed to protect commune staff members. No pay or retirement plans—yours is not to reason why, just to do and die.Top Tax Filing Mistakes| 1. | Classifying hooker money as charitable donations | | 2. | Taxes owed paid in solid gold krugerrands | | 3. | Claiming Willie Nelson already paid your taxes | | 4. | Online tax-filing with X-Box 360 Live account | | 5. | Attempting to personally deliver tax forms to president himself, accompanied by bonus ass-whupping | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 1/10/2005 Look out below, America, Roland McShyster just honked and as usual, it looks like gravity will have its way. We're sicker than a Nine Inch Nails video here at Entertainment Police, and all bets are off within a fifty foot radius of yours truly. Anyone interested in staying well would do wisely to coat their computer screen in Vaseline and turn to the black power of voodoo for support, ladies and gentlemen. Now let's take a look at this week's movies, which like everything else at the moment, are something to sneeze at.
In Theaters Now:
Electra
As I anticipated in this very space years ago, celebrity shemannequin Carmen Electra has followed the well-worn path from extra bimbo on Good Burger to the director and producer's chairs, where...
Look out below, America, Roland McShyster just honked and as usual, it looks like gravity will have its way. We're sicker than a Nine Inch Nails video here at Entertainment Police, and all bets are off within a fifty foot radius of yours truly. Anyone interested in staying well would do wisely to coat their computer screen in Vaseline and turn to the black power of voodoo for support, ladies and gentlemen. Now let's take a look at this week's movies, which like everything else at the moment, are something to sneeze at.
In Theaters Now:
Electra
As I anticipated in this very space years ago, celebrity shemannequin Carmen Electra has followed the well-worn path from extra bimbo on Good Burger to the director and producer's chairs, where she apparently perched gingerly with one cheek on each, or else had herself cloned using trick photography. Whatever the method, Electra has managed to inflict her strange autobiography on the world, an improbable geek epic with one cheek each in the worlds of science fiction and comic bookery. Apparently Electra's ass was too busy to star as itself in the film, so Eva Gardner's great-granddaughter was brought in to plausible effect, despite the fact that she's seven feet tall and looks slightly less like Carmen Electra than I do. All of this was of little importance, however, since the audience's geeklust was satisfied and the film served its purpose as a place-holder before the May release of Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Nerds, and the highly anticipated Wookie Cookies tie-in promotion.
Hotel Rwanda
Seeking to hitchhike to the heights they once soared with their pervasively eternal gigantahit "Hotel California," the Eagles released the lesser-known desperate cash-in jingle "Hotel Rwanda" in 1981. Though it shared in many of the original's tasty licks and incomprehensible lyrics, the record-listening public was all "Horse with No Name"ed out by that point and the new tune was a sweaty flop. But leave it to Hollywood to mistake a dismal commercial failure for an underground cult favorite, as they did last year with the release of everything they released last year, so we're treated with a movie adaptation that unwisely drags on beyond the original tune's seven-minute running length. Don Knotts stars as the black guy from Traffic.
Racist Stripes
Finally, some genius has realized that CGI doesn't only stand for "Computers Generate Income" and has crafted an actual computer-animated film without any farting dinosaurs or showtunes-loving sidekicks. In fact, this modern-day retelling of Animal Farm is about as crowd-pleasing as an electrocuted elephant, daring audiences to examine the racist underpinnings of their own warped worldviews. When a naĂŻve zebra named Hitler shows up on the farm one day looking for refuge from a world fixated on his mixed-stripe heritage, he finds instead a powderkeg of simmering ethnic tensions amongst the charmingly celebrity-voiced assemblage of barnyard beasts. Over the next 84 minutes, Hitler teaches the assorted ethnic stereotypes a valuable lesson about equality by winning the county's annual racist races, before being made into glue to pave the way for the purification of the farm. This is one thought-provoking future classic that's perfect for kids you don't like.
Well, there you have it, and while you're holding it I'm going to duck out the back door. Hot potato on you, slow-reacting America. Check back next time and hopefully we'll have more movie reviewing magic, minus the iron lung. Achoo.   |
