|  | 
A Nation Bored: America Waits Patiently for Something, Anything to HappenDecember 9, 2002 |
Raleigh, North Carolina Snapper McGee Some Americans are so desperate for distraction they're tuning in to JAG on CBS.
Though a slate of news stories and pop culture events dominated American consciousness in recent months—including the potential war with Iraq, the November election win for Republicans, the murder spree by serial snipers, movie releases like Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and the new James Bond movie Die Another Day, and exciting episodes of favorite TV programs—the past two weeks has found America completely, utterly bored.
A recent survey on what Americans were doing included answers such as, "Nothing much," "Nothing real...
he country as a whole has not been doing anything recently. In fact, leading news analysts propose that the total United States has just been going through the daily grind since, approximately, Thanksgiving weekend.
Though a slate of news stories and pop culture events dominated American consciousness in recent months—including the potential war with Iraq, the November election win for Republicans, the murder spree by serial snipers, movie releases like Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and the new James Bond movie Die Another Day, and exciting episodes of favorite TV programs—the past two weeks has found America completely, utterly bored.
A recent survey on what Americans were doing included answers such as, "Nothing much," "Nothing really," "Nothing," "Just chillin'," "Nada, man," and "Not a damn thing."
Periodic droughts of news are nothing new to the American media, such as months ago when the anniversary of Elvis' death was arbitrarily declared important by major news outlets. However, stagnation in news is usually off-set by major events both personal and public, movie releases, new albums, celebrity deaths, even birthdays and individual bits of good luck such as job promotions or marriages. During this unique time it appears virtually nothing of interest is happening; not only on a national scale, but for everyone.
Mechanic Mike Pinzer of Detroit, Michigan, is hopeful for upcoming events, but admits nothing is on the agenda at present time. "It's not like it's bad or anything. It's not bad. It's not good, either… it's just… enh. Y'know?"
Big news is promised in the immediate future for all, from the possibility of military action in Iraq to the Christmas and New Year holidays. Until then, most Americans are left in a state of blah awaiting better times.
"Next year will be the best yet, I believe," said Hoboken, New Jersey Office Manager Stacey Krendel. "I have a strong feeling I'm getting that promotion I've fought so hard for. My boyfriend and are set to get married in February, and after that we'll start house shopping. But right now… piss on all of it. Even the new episodes of all the TV shows are turds."
"My life is completely miserable," said Kansas City, Missouri Barnes & Noble sales clerk Byron Hymen. "But on the up side, the new Lord of the Rings movie is coming out real soon. And the new Star Trek! If I can avoid suicide just another week or so things will be great!"
Politically, news is ready to bloom as well. With the ever-escalating Iraq situation, the growing possibility that Bob Kerry will announce his bid for presidency, and the Supreme Court ready to hear arguments on affirmative action, late December could be filled with presents for the news media. Yet this week, at least, America will need either patience or booze to get through the malaise.
Joey "Glory Hole" Stucker, a resident of the California penal system, summed up: "I'm up for parole in a month, which is good. And I hear the Supreme Court is going to rule on sodomy soon, which will be fantastic. But right now, it's just the same ol', same ol'. Hey, what is Michael Jackson doing right now?" the commune news prides itself on making stories out of nothing, being such big Seinfeld fans. Ramrod Hurley is a commune correspondent famous for his pleasant demeanor and cheerful smile when backing down from an argument, unlike the mysterious Ramrod Hurley lookalike who burned down the local Liquor Shack.
 |  Who's the Black Pit That Killed a Night Club Prick? Elevator Shaft — Damn Right
High French voter turnout looks good for anti-American candidate
 Bush Admonishes Tornado's Cut and Run Policy
Super Bowl Advertising: Fat guys with Nike T-shirts to get $1.8 mil
|
Lawyers for Gitmo Detainees Lobby to Stop Calling Them “Gitmo” Detainees Fans Mourn First 30 Years of Puckett’s Life Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” R.C. Car Enthusiasts Angered by Latest Mars Mission Snub |
| |
| 
 June 24, 2002
Aliens Are Transporting Me from Room to RoomTry this on for size, commune followers: Inexplicably, I am sitting in a chair reading or, more likely, watching old stock footage of World War II to find proof Hitler escaped disguised as a Von Trapp, when I get up to do something. The next moment, I find myself in a room I did not intend to go into and have no idea how I got there or why I would have entered the room. What's up there?
No doubt you've figured out, as I immediately surmised, aliens are clearly using advanced teleportation devices to break down my molecular structure, turn me into a mass of unformed atoms, then reassemble me in exact working detail in another room of my house. That much is obvious. But why?
In all my years of studying the vast underlying conspiracies that affect us all on every level, I've never encountered one both so brazen and yet so curiously without motive.
My first thought was I'm likely being studied by said aliens, they beam me up to their ship, poke and prod me in every place, then return me, though they're always off by a few feet when they drop me off back in a different room. However, that falls through on several levels. For one, first and foremost, I show no other signs of alien abduction. There is no loss of time, and it would take quite a while to study this superb specimen, let me tell you. Plus, I have no feeling of being anally probed when I recover my senses, and after the commune's Christmas party a couple years ago I would...
º Last Column: The Gimp Has Claimed Quentin Tarantino
º more columns
Try this on for size, commune followers: Inexplicably, I am sitting in a chair reading or, more likely, watching old stock footage of World War II to find proof Hitler escaped disguised as a Von Trapp, when I get up to do something. The next moment, I find myself in a room I did not intend to go into and have no idea how I got there or why I would have entered the room. What's up there?
No doubt you've figured out, as I immediately surmised, aliens are clearly using advanced teleportation devices to break down my molecular structure, turn me into a mass of unformed atoms, then reassemble me in exact working detail in another room of my house. That much is obvious. But why?
In all my years of studying the vast underlying conspiracies that affect us all on every level, I've never encountered one both so brazen and yet so curiously without motive.
My first thought was I'm likely being studied by said aliens, they beam me up to their ship, poke and prod me in every place, then return me, though they're always off by a few feet when they drop me off back in a different room. However, that falls through on several levels. For one, first and foremost, I show no other signs of alien abduction. There is no loss of time, and it would take quite a while to study this superb specimen, let me tell you. Plus, I have no feeling of being anally probed when I recover my senses, and after the commune's Christmas party a couple years ago I would certainly know if I'd been probed while unconscious. Also, speaking frankly, aliens would certainly not be so dumb as to return me without leaving me in the exact same spot, at least not anything but an extremely disappointing race of aliens.
No doubt about it, aliens are involved, but they are most certainly not taking me aboard their ship, at least not to study me. So what is their purpose if they're not adding to their vast knowledge of the human physique?
I asked Corey P. Myler, a physics professor, astronomer, conspiracy buff, and A-Team trivia master, a good friend who I sometimes catch in the laundry room of our building without explanation. Myler considered the facts I gave him and smoked three of my cigars while we were waiting for my whites to dry, then reminded me that recent crop circles outside Edinburgh appeared to resemble the giant footprints of an enormous alien who had pegs for feet instead of regular feet. This was of virtually no use in my query, though Myler said the evidence was too thin to speculate further.
On the other hand, I can speculate until the cows come home. I often do. I speculate day and night, sometimes without much to start me off. I've made a career, at least a column, entirely out of speculation, and I'm currently writing a sitcom about speculators. It's my favorite past-time, next to punching pigeons, so I figured it's up to me to speculate alone on this one.
My first explanation, and the easiest, is that I'm merely part of an alien psychological experiment. But that's boring! That's just off the top of my head. I have not yet begun to wildly speculate.
My next guess is that aliens are indeed taking me aboard their ship, forcing me to masturbate until ejaculation with nude pics of that top-heavy girl who used to play Punky Brewster before she grew up and out. They then take the "deposit" back to their world and use it to propagate their species since years of space travel have left the males flaccid and sterile. They then erase my memory and travel back in time to drop me off in my house where they found me, though because they are jealous I am able to provide healthy sperm when they are not, they exact revenge by putting me in another room. It confuses me, but I'll live on unchanged.
Or, and this may sound a little silly, but I am being observed with observing rays from the computers of the alien race, in an attempt to graph a precise robot duplicate of me to set up an alternate world of robot humanoids, or possibly even a robot world of Red Bagels that can form conspiracy theories to save the world. Perhaps just for worship on their homeworld. But the observing rays can only observe for very short moments before I am totally disintegrated. Using what they have learned, once I am disintegrated, they reconstruct me short seconds later. They cannot put me back in the same spot otherwise I would see the stain where my previous incarnation used to be standing.
Whew! That was damn fine speculating. I'm tired. I'm going to grab a Shasta.
Now… what was I talking about? Who wrote all this nonsense on my computer? º Last Column: The Gimp Has Claimed Quentin Tarantinoº more columns
| 
|  April 19, 2004
Third Time's AlarmYou know me, I don't like formalities. Let's get right to what's on my mind this minute.
Do you remember in grade school, those cafeteria lunches where they used to hand out a rectangle of pizza? I never got mine.
The best thing you can do in this world is to make your enemy a friend. If you can't do that, kill his pets while he sleeps. Hopefully he'll get the message.
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night. Boy, that was a weird dream.
Why is that some remote controls you have to point right at the TV, and others you can point them anywhere and they work. I don't know the specifications of remote control airwaves ownership, but they should make all remote controls like that.
The world's greatest dancer is that Riverdance guy, no question. Kill him, who's left? Really?
You know, if I were to suddenly die tomorrow, I doubt any of my friends would be surprised.
If you got the chance to pick your own nickname, what would it be? Wait—don't jump the gun too soon. Remember, this will have to last you forever. Unless you change it.
I wonder why they didn't decide to call it Kraft Cheese & Macaroni. Seriously, this keeps me up at night. I'm not sleeping well.
I'm going to buy a houseboat. Then I'll get boat owner's insurance and homeowner's insurance. Then, God forbid, I get torpedoed by a lost German sub still fighting the war, I can get paid twice.
You...
º Last Column: Second Verse, Same as the First
º more columns
You know me, I don't like formalities. Let's get right to what's on my mind this minute.
Do you remember in grade school, those cafeteria lunches where they used to hand out a rectangle of pizza? I never got mine.
The best thing you can do in this world is to make your enemy a friend. If you can't do that, kill his pets while he sleeps. Hopefully he'll get the message.
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night. Boy, that was a weird dream.
Why is that some remote controls you have to point right at the TV, and others you can point them anywhere and they work. I don't know the specifications of remote control airwaves ownership, but they should make all remote controls like that.
The world's greatest dancer is that Riverdance guy, no question. Kill him, who's left? Really?
You know, if I were to suddenly die tomorrow, I doubt any of my friends would be surprised.
If you got the chance to pick your own nickname, what would it be? Wait—don't jump the gun too soon. Remember, this will have to last you forever. Unless you change it.
I wonder why they didn't decide to call it Kraft Cheese & Macaroni. Seriously, this keeps me up at night. I'm not sleeping well.
I'm going to buy a houseboat. Then I'll get boat owner's insurance and homeowner's insurance. Then, God forbid, I get torpedoed by a lost German sub still fighting the war, I can get paid twice.
You know what I really like? Loose women.
If I could have any band write me a theme song and play it for me everywhere I go, I would choose the Ventures. You know, Hawaii 5-O. Who's better than that, you tell me?
They say loose lips sink ships, but poor hull maintenance does it just as well.
Technically, if you take some video of your nephew falling off a slide, aren't you an independent filmmaker? I believe so, but try telling that to those assholes at Sundance.
I wonder when we're going to get that technology that verifies your identity by lasering your retina, for security purposes. A lot of people have been making long-distance calls on my line lately.
I had lunch at Great Expectations the other day. It wasn't so good.
As an artist, would it personally offend you if your entire catalogue of albums was remastered? It either implies they weren't mastered correctly to begin with or they somehow got reckless over the years and needed to be reigned in. Could you go back and put a harmonica on every track, would that qualify as remastering? Or is that a remix?
Hoot. That's what my nickname would be.
Sometimes I think I'm still paying for the sins of man in the Garden. You know the Garden, that Chinese place on Fifteenth Street. I was smoking in the non-smoking section and got banned.
That's all for this presentation. I'm off to hunt cashews in the wild. I wish you the best of luck, as long as it's not mine. º Last Column: Second Verse, Same as the Firstº more columns
|
| |
Quote of the Day“Seek not greatness, but seek truth and you will find both. If, however, you find a bag that looks like oregano, it's mine. I mean, if the cops ask you, it's not mine, but I am totally holding it for a friend of mine.”
-Ron HorsemannFortune 500 CookieAnother day, another dollar—you should really quit the migrant worker biz for a job where you can make more than a buck a day. Fans of sweaty three-ways with lesbians rejoice, they'll have your video in stock this Thursday. I've been smelling beans all day. That can't be just me. Lucky Lucianos will be Angelo, Salvatore, Emilio, and Gary.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Big Boobs Mouseketeer | | 2. | Uncle Macho's Meat Pringles | | 3. | Shiving For Gold | | 4. | Dream Meanings: Poked in the Armpit | | 5. | Rent Midgets to Toss | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 3/4/2002 Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars!
Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees:
Best Picture
A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some...
Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars! Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees: Best PictureA Beautiful Mime -read EP review-This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some tits!" Powerful filmmaking that has given me a new taste for women of few words… who let the cleavage do the talking. I advise you to let it change your world some time soon.
Goosefart Park
Those loveable Animal House morons are back, and this time they're stuck at a quaint Country Inn in the small English town of Goosefart Park. A surprise pick for a Best Picture nomination, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a film this year with more beaver jokes. There's a lot of raunchy humour for the whole family, but this isn't a one-sided farce. The film also brings home the important life lesson that England is stupid.
In the Bedroom
It's a bold statement, but this is probably the best film ever based on a Cream song. To be honest, I didn't understand the movie any better than I understood the tune, (psychedelic interior decorating tips? And who buys black curtains these days?) but regardless, this flick is head and heels above Kevin Costner's dismal Aqualung.
The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
This is the year gay boxing movies stepped into the mainstream, and there is no finer example than The Lords of the Ring. If a picture is worth a thousand words, and this isn't the best picture of the year, then that means there are a thousand finer words out there somewhere, and personally I find that disbelievable. This is one of those rare movies that grabs you by your manhood and sucks you off. Or in. And as the wizened old boxing trainer Gaydar says in the film: "Sometimes you choose gay boxing. And sometimes gay boxing chooses you." I couldn't have put it better, even with 989 more words and a Polaroid.
Mule in Rouge -read EP review-
Another surprise nomination for Best Picture, as the Academy seems to have a soft spot for screwball comedies this year. This time it's a loveable Talking Mule picture that gets the surprise nod and a wink. And I know what you're thinking, that they always nominate the Talking Mule pictures but they never win the big awards. It's like an unwritten rule. But this year things could be different since there's a lot of buzz under this donkey's tail and I hear the Church of Scientology is throwing it's Hollywood weight around to secure the golden flasher for this picture.
Best Director
Don Henley, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Leave it to a former Eagle to take this tale of form-fitting mime costumes all the way to the limit. Sure, he could have taken it easy, but that's not Henley's style. Being the new kid in town, director-wise, he had a lot to prove, and I for one am hoping there's no heartache for him on Oscar night. Hopefully his film will leave Academy voters with a peaceful, easy feeling, and provide them with a place to hide their lion eyes.
Ripley Scott, Black Hawk Down -read EP review-
Every film this guy does without having a space lizard or whatever spring out of his chest is a triumph in my book. I'd really be pulling for him to take home the gold this year on that basis alone if it weren't for the fact that his movie had way too much pan flute music in it for my tastes. I mean, I guess it's a depressed-bird kind of instrument, but in my opinion you can take that too far.
Robert Palmer, Goosefart Park
Three years ago it was all about foreign dictators directing films, and last year it was about rock-band movies. This year the natural progression continues and it's pop stars turning into directors, and nobody was more surprised than me to discover that this pedophile-looking limey can direct a frat comedy like nobody's business. Both this film and A Beautiful Mime make me realize how far ahead of his time Terrence Trent D'Arby really was when he directed The Thin Red Line a few years ago, really the grandfather of pop star directors. Sure, the inclusion of Power Station's Some Like it Hot in Palmer's film was a little self-serving, but I have to admit it synched up pretty well with the scene where the morons set the Inn on fire.
Peter, Paul and Mary Jackson, The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
What's more amazing than pop stars making the successful transition to directing feature films? How about entire bands making the leap? Scoff no more my friends, because it happened while you weren't paying attention. If these 60's folkamuffins can direct the best gay boxing film ever, I can't wait to see Metallica's directorial debut this summer.
David Lynch, Mulholland Drive -read EP review-
Sure, he's crazier than a shithouse weasel, but there's no denying that some people out there enjoy the scrambled brainbatter he yanks out of his rectum every few years. Personally, I liked his films more before he decreed that all film scores should be played by throwing live fish at a piano, but you've got to admire his creative vision.
Best Actor
Russell Crowe, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Really rubbing the charm thin after his role in Almost Famous, Crowe serves as a cleavage-blocking impediment to an otherwise arresting film. Back to the Louvre with you, Frenchie.
Sean Penn, I Am Sam -read EP review-
Leave it to a balls-out amazing actor like Penn to garner an Oscar nomination for the smallest of roles. Some may argue that his cameo as the fox in the box was too scant a role to deserve the Oscar nod, but I ask you this: did you ever doubt for a second that that there was really a fox in that box where Knox would not eat the green eggs and ham, would not eat them Sam I Am? I rest my case.
Geoffrey Rush, Lantana
Who?
Mr. Smith, ALI -read EP review-
Talk about taking a boring film and driving it right into the dull, lifeless ground! This is it. The American Law Institute could have salvaged some shred of an audience's attention by casting a big-name star in this plodding logjam of a film, but instead they chose to feature this faceless corporate lawyer in an unbelievably gray suit. I thought for a second this movie might turn into a Pink Floyd video but in the end it turned out that irony was not on the witness list.
Denzel Washington, Training Day -read EP review-
After a long, painful journey, Denzel finally finds his niche in this talking toddler pic. He's never had a finer moment than when he's chasing little Mikey around the apartment while he's got a shitty pair of pull-ups around his ankles (but don't ask me why Denzel was wearing pull-ups in the first place! Zing!). It just goes to show that talent can blossom late, and here Denzel is at his best since To Wong Fu…
Best Animated Film
In a surprising move by the Academy, the Best Actress category has been replaced this year by a new award for Best Animated Film. I'm sure you can imagine the endless griping that has ensued, but for what? I mean, who doesn't like cartoons?
Jimmy Nimrod: Boy Genius -read EP review-
Hands-down the funniest film of the year, and one of the main reasons you'll be hearing Roland McShyster's tortured screams echoing up from hell once we all hit the afterlife. I stand behind my actions, however, and if seeing an exploitive comedy about a retarded super-spy twelve times in the theater is a damnable offense, then damn the torpedoes and steer this cruise ship towards the Hades water park, my friends.
Mobsters, INC. -read EP review-
A computer-animated classic set in the mobster's paradise of New Jersey. A funny, fascinating, and fuggetaboutit musical for those of us who like our fellas good and our fathers godly. Or something, I don't know. Look for Joe Piscapo in his trademark insane mobster role.
Beatty and the Beast
I had the weird deja-vu feeling that I'd seen this movie before, but with all of the great new stuff they're cranking out, it's not like Disney would just rehash one of their old movies to make a few extra bucks. Anyway, it's great to see Ned Beatty working again, though to be honest sometimes I got confused about who was the Beast.
And that's a wrap! Now's it's time to bask in the afterglow while we await the ceremony itself. When will it be? Nobody knows! But that's half the fun of it. And from me to you, America, I hope it's some kind of wonderful. See you in a month!
  |
