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Twenty-two Dead and Children Delighted by SnowstormDecember 9, 2002 |
Raleigh, NorthCarolina Whit Pistol We're not sure of the exact details, but we think it's some kind of winterstorm Stand By Me.
"This is a terrible tragedy, the worst thing that's ever happened to us," said Raleigh, North Carolina security guard Cindy Macon. "We've lost power and had to leave our home. The whole family's been staying in a shelter and I can't afford to miss work, but they've closed everything. We're broke and destitute."
"Hooray!" said Evansville, Indiana schoolboy Ricky Teegan. "Snow's everywhere and they closed school! I hear they're probabl...
nowstorms blanketed the east coast early last week, stopping work in hundreds of towns and cities and creating countless traffic accidents. In the worst cases, 22 in North and South Carolina were killed in storm-related incidents. Schools were also closed in a number of states, thrilling children from grades kindergarten through 12.
"This is a terrible tragedy, the worst thing that's ever happened to us," said Raleigh, North Carolina security guard Cindy Macon. "We've lost power and had to leave our home. The whole family's been staying in a shelter and I can't afford to miss work, but they've closed everything. We're broke and destitute."
"Hooray!" said Evansville, Indiana schoolboy Ricky Teegan. "Snow's everywhere and they closed school! I hear they're probably going to be closed tomorrow, too. This is the best thing that ever happened to us!"
1.2 million homes in the Carolinas were left without power, and power companies are projecting days will be needed to make repairs. Sledding and snowball fights were also rampant in the area, as well as other snowed-in areas throughout the United States.
"We were going to go ice skating at the lake, but the ice was too weak," said Lakewood, Tennessee teen-ager Jamie Farnsworth. "No luck at all!"
"Our son was killed when his car broke through the guard rail and landed on the frozen lake," said Naomi Marquette of Toquin, Ohio, through thick tears. "The police said he survived the crash, but… he broke through and drowned in the water. The ice was too weak."
Greenville, South Carolina police chief Jim Walters said of the snowstorm, "Several houses in the area have lost power, and there have been at least twenty-five car wrecks at last count. But even worse, I hate to think of the impoverished and elderly people in town who can't afford to heat their homes. Once the roads are cleared and everything starts back up like normal I imagine the calls to pick up frozen bodies will start pouring in."
"It's fantastic," said Washington, D.C. college student Mitch Kursky. "I woke up at eight and just turned the radio on. School's closed! I turned up the thermostat, wrapped myself up in the blanket, and went back to sleep."
Initial snowfalls Tuesday and Wednesday covered much of the east coast, and though the snowfall ceased and the snow began to melt by Wednesday evening, extreme temperatures turned the melting snow into ice, creating even more road hazards and danger for travelers, as well as ice balls for snowball fights.
Echoing city officials across the country, Albertville, Illinois mayor Jean Harper advised residents, "Please stay at home if you can, if you are unessential at work or are sanctioned by employers. The storms may have lessened, but the roads are still extremely hazardous in some areas."
"I'm so glad I have the day off," said Caton, West Virginia middle school teacher Ned Murphy. "I'm looking forward to a nice, quiet day all to myself. A quick drive out to rent some videos ought to give me some entertainment. I think I'll order some pizza, too. If they take longer than an hour to get it to me, I get it at half-price." the commune news is bursting at the seams today—looks like it wasn't really a good idea to perform our own hernia surgery. Ivan Nacutchacokov is our foreign correspondent, and when we can't endanger him with any overseas news we send him in to cover weather catastrophes and natural disasters.
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Media fascination with online dating inexplicably soars
Howard Dean happy to be able to holler again
Flood-based sitcoms and movie scripts shelved indefinitely
Taco Bell's New 7 Slayer Burrito Recalled for Being Filled with Shards of Metal
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Turkey to Block Offensive Websites; commune Offers Pre-Emptive “Fuck You” Obama to Change Spelling of Name to oBAMa for Maximum Impact Oasis, Killers Combine Forces to Ruin Sgt. Pepper’s for Everyone Global Warming Poses Threat to National Parks, Says WWF’s “Machoman” Savage |
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 April 29, 2002
Survivor Glorifies Being Stranded on a Desert IslandI'm sure I will take a lot of flack for this, or fleck, as well as flecktones, but someone has got to stand and state the morally obvious: This big-time Survivor show does nothing but glorify the lifestyle of desert island castaways.
Not that glorifying this depraved lifestyle is anything new. There have always been exploitative movies like The Blue Lagoon, Return to the Blue Lagoon, Castaway (1987) and Cast Away (2000), as well as trashy novels like Robinson Crusoe. I have always hoped the resurgence of this abnormal lifestyle in the media would fade away again as quickly as it sprang up. But now that it returns as a fairly successful T.V. show, it's time somebody took a stand. Are we supposed to sit back and do nothing while our children are encouraged to accept this as a normal lifestyle? While these people are portrayed as heroes by the ignorant, money-hungry media? I'm not going to do that. I have six children, three of my own, and I will teach them the difference between right and wrong. And stranding yourself on a desert island is wrong.
I'm sure some of you bleeding hearts will argue with me that these people are victims, that nobody sets out to strand themselves on a desert island. Let's not be naïve, people. People on desert islands are no more victims than drug abusers or people with A.I.D.S. You know there are certain things in your lifestyle that invite harm and danger to you, like using...
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I'm sure I will take a lot of flack for this, or fleck, as well as flecktones, but someone has got to stand and state the morally obvious: This big-time Survivor show does nothing but glorify the lifestyle of desert island castaways.
Not that glorifying this depraved lifestyle is anything new. There have always been exploitative movies like The Blue Lagoon, Return to the Blue Lagoon, Castaway (1987) and Cast Away (2000), as well as trashy novels like Robinson Crusoe. I have always hoped the resurgence of this abnormal lifestyle in the media would fade away again as quickly as it sprang up. But now that it returns as a fairly successful T.V. show, it's time somebody took a stand. Are we supposed to sit back and do nothing while our children are encouraged to accept this as a normal lifestyle? While these people are portrayed as heroes by the ignorant, money-hungry media? I'm not going to do that. I have six children, three of my own, and I will teach them the difference between right and wrong. And stranding yourself on a desert island is wrong.
I'm sure some of you bleeding hearts will argue with me that these people are victims, that nobody sets out to strand themselves on a desert island. Let's not be naïve, people. People on desert islands are no more victims than drug abusers or people with A.I.D.S. You know there are certain things in your lifestyle that invite harm and danger to you, like using drugs, sharing needles, or sailing a boat through a record-setting storm. Babying people like this is not going to change anything, they need tough love.
You know what they say: "Give a man a fish, he eats today, or possibly tomorrow, if the fish lasts that long; teach a man to fish and he eats everyday, as long as you give him a rod and bait." Get it? Then please explain it to me, since I'm a little foggy on it.
My point is that while I want to be an accepting, all-forgiving person, it's easier to be angry and vengeful and curse what I don't understand. Would you rather be firm now and explain to your kid what's right and what's wrong, or have them out in the middle of ocean braving a storm of epic proportions? Having the wind and rain slam them overboard, where they must grab onto debris and float amidst choppy waves until they pass out and wake up on a beach? Then find them years later either naked or with only a goofy little loincloth and a full length beard to cover their private parts? And God forbid someone of the opposite sex is the only other survivor, no telling what kind of porn movie fantasies will be happening on that uncharted desert island.
We're all adults, we know how the real world works. It's not all millionaires, movie stars and the rest in this desert island fantasy the kids work up in their heads. The real world is hunger, loneliness, and extreme sunburn. We as Americans have to reject this lifestyle altogether rather than let it worm its way into the fabric of our society as a modern legend, like the cowboy.
Good luck to you in your personal efforts to thwart the image of the happy, well-adjusted castaway in society. I would suggest forming a group against this sort of thing, but only on the condition I get to be leader. After all, I did write this column and bring it to your attention, right? It's about time somebody made me leader of something. Otherwise it wouldn't be worth leaving the cabin. º Last Column: I Would Sail Seven Seas to Find You if I Had A Boat and You Were Not Already Hereº more columns
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|  September 12, 2005
Seventh HeavenLet's get started. I don't have all day. If I did have it, I would probably charge for its use. I'm thinking $4.50, $5 ought to do it. Not outrageous, but enough to clear a healthy profit.
I have recently taken to wearing hats. And we are no longer a hat-endorsing culture, I remind you. So if you see me on the street, applaud my actions. I mean it. Seriously, applaud. Very loudly, and with whistles.
Ever notice how there are movie-grade celebrities, and then there are TV-grade celebrities? In movies, you have Tom Cruise. On TV, you get Matthew Perry. Every once in a while you'll see an ambitious star claw his way up, like George Clooney. Or you'll witness the sad decline of one star washing up on TV shores, like Geena Davis. Where does that leave Paris Hilton? I'd say straight to video, but I have more class than that.
It just occurs to me I never received any gifts at all on Christmas morning, 1993. God, no wonder that morning went by so slow. I knew something was askew.
What time is it? Drinking time! It's always drinking time, when you have alcohol.
If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. This applies to any packet gravy you can get your hands on it.
It seems like only yesterday I was a bouncing young boy with his future laid out before him. If it was really yesterday, I had one hell of a growth spurt. I'm seriously worried if it's still going on, because I could be dead before I'm...
º Last Column: Vernon Hooper's Sixth Cents
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Let's get started. I don't have all day. If I did have it, I would probably charge for its use. I'm thinking $4.50, $5 ought to do it. Not outrageous, but enough to clear a healthy profit. I have recently taken to wearing hats. And we are no longer a hat-endorsing culture, I remind you. So if you see me on the street, applaud my actions. I mean it. Seriously, applaud. Very loudly, and with whistles. Ever notice how there are movie-grade celebrities, and then there are TV-grade celebrities? In movies, you have Tom Cruise. On TV, you get Matthew Perry. Every once in a while you'll see an ambitious star claw his way up, like George Clooney. Or you'll witness the sad decline of one star washing up on TV shores, like Geena Davis. Where does that leave Paris Hilton? I'd say straight to video, but I have more class than that. It just occurs to me I never received any gifts at all on Christmas morning, 1993. God, no wonder that morning went by so slow. I knew something was askew. What time is it? Drinking time! It's always drinking time, when you have alcohol. If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. This applies to any packet gravy you can get your hands on it. It seems like only yesterday I was a bouncing young boy with his future laid out before him. If it was really yesterday, I had one hell of a growth spurt. I'm seriously worried if it's still going on, because I could be dead before I'm done with this column. But more than likely it was just time seeming relative to me again. If I could have only one thing given to me, I would like a gun. Everything else I could then get myself. I have but one rule to live by: If your teeth are turning black, it's time to start brushing. Live by this rule and you can't go wrong. Several times a month I order a "pizza with everything on it." When it arrives, I'm disappointed to find only extra cheese, green onions, olives, mushrooms, and several kinds of meat. Is this truly everything? Have we grown so unimaginative as a culture we can't do any better? I demanded everything, damn you. Put some backbone into it. Whoops! I fell out of my chair. That time it was an accident. I know I've done it sometimes just to get attention, but that time was for real. I have never been charged with impersonating a police officer, though I do it all the time. Don't worry—I don't wear a uniform or carry a fake badge or anything. It's all in my attitude. I carry myself like a cop. People don't say anything, but they don't believe it. I don't tell them I'm a cop either. That would be cheating. And a felony. They call them sunglasses, but they don't shine the sun directly into your eyes when you're wearing them. They should call them "sunblockers," or "shades." Why is it I'm the one who has to think of these things? That's sufficient. I could give it more, but I don't think you quite deserve that, do you? No, not at all. º Last Column: Vernon Hooper's Sixth Centsº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Yes, madam, I may be drunk, but you are ugly and in the morning I shall still be drunk! Wait a minute… Okay, I've got a match for you: your butt and my face. Touché.”
-Quentin HillchurchFortune 500 CookieHappiness is indeed a warm gun, but you're not supposed to warm it in your ass like that. If your life is lacking direction this week, we've got one word for you: North. As you have long suspected, recreational drugs are the answer. This week's lucky charms: taupe meatballs, turquoise speculums, puce gallstones, gold bullets.
Try again later.Top 5 Worst Things to Hear in a Blackout| 1. | Let's play Guess Who's Not Wearing Pants? | | 2. | Did you ever hear how electricity was invented? Funny story… | | 3. | We'll find our way out by lighting my farts. | | 4. | Say, this feels like a tumor. | | 5. | Wow, we're trapped in an elevator with Ashton Kutcher! | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY R.L. Kuntz 4/25/2005 Charlie and the Fudge PackersThere were these two old farts living in a farty old house and they were Grandpa and Grandma. And before they were dusty and old they had children who grew up like weeds and had a son, but not with each other. And that son was Charlie Pugmuck. Forget all the rest of them, this is Charlie's story.
The rest of the Pugmucks are just there to show that Charlie lived in a crowded house with no money, on account of being poor. They were so poor that all they could get Charlie for his birthday every year was a single piece of fudge, which he had to chew up and then spit back into the wrapper, so they could wrap it back up and sell it to an even poorer family down the block. Charlie looked forward to his birthday fudge all year but sometimes he wondered who was chewing on it before...
There were these two old farts living in a farty old house and they were Grandpa and Grandma. And before they were dusty and old they had children who grew up like weeds and had a son, but not with each other. And that son was Charlie Pugmuck. Forget all the rest of them, this is Charlie's story.
The rest of the Pugmucks are just there to show that Charlie lived in a crowded house with no money, on account of being poor. They were so poor that all they could get Charlie for his birthday every year was a single piece of fudge, which he had to chew up and then spit back into the wrapper, so they could wrap it back up and sell it to an even poorer family down the block. Charlie looked forward to his birthday fudge all year but sometimes he wondered who was chewing on it before it got to him. He hoped it wasn't more than a few people.
So you can imagine Charlie's surprise when one year he was the lucky boy who got the fudge that was contaminated with the E. Spori Chrysanthemum bacteria. And as part of the legal settlement he got to tour the fudge factory, every boy's dream after his dreams of being a famous football player or president or going to a toy factory have been ground into the dust by cold, cruel reality. Charlie liked fudge.
Charlie saved up for months collecting bottle tops and wishing well pennies and tiny scraps of aluminum foil to be able to buy a pair of pants to wear to the factory that didn't smell like hot dogshit. In the end, the pants store didn't want anything to do with the bottle tops or aluminum foil, but they just so happened to be having a "Get These Pants Out of Here Sale" where tragically unfashionable trousers were being sold for 99 cents a piece. And it just so happened that over the months, Charlie had fished exactly 98 pennies out of the muck at the bottom of the wishing well and from urinals in the bathrooms of bars around town, so in the end he had to hit the store keeper with a bottle and steal the pants, but it was okay because he really wanted to see that fudge factory.
When the magical day finally came, Charlie could hardly contain his excitement. He was so excited that morning he could barely eat the bowl of twigs and surplus marshmallows his mother had lovingly prepared for him as a special breakfast. His hands were shaking too much from malnutrition—and excitement!
On the way to the factory, Charlie had his dad let him out of the wheelbarrow a half-mile from the factory, since Charlie didn't want the other kids on the tour to know his family couldn't afford a car or servants to push him around in a nicer wheelbarrow. Charlie walked the rest of the way, careful not to ruin the nice new shoes his grandfather had made him out of bread bags and duct tape just that morning.
All of Charlie's efforts at putting on an illusion of not being desperately poor turned out to be for naught, however. Upon Charlie's arrival, the factory manager, the magically mysterious Mr. Wanker, told Charlie that no one was allowed to wear pants inside the fudge factory, a strange rule but one that somehow added to the fun of the fudge factory atmosphere. Unfortunately, Charlie hadn't had enough time or bottles to steal himself any proper new underwear for the trip, and he was embarrassed that all the other snotty rich kids on the tour made fun of the gently used disposable diaper he wore inside out as underwear, owing to his poorness.
But all of this would be quickly forgotten once Charlie caught an eyeful of the glorious fudge packing going on inside.
For more of this great story, buy R.L. Kuntz's magical
Charlie and the Fudge Packers   |
