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 May 31, 2011 |
Oakland, CA Courtesy ACPA7 Harold Camping, seen here live on Alameda County Public Access 7 espousing his firm belief that you can’t keep a bad format down.
HD-DVD, the home video optical disc format launched by Japan’s Toshiba Corp in 2006, spent the entirety of its brief existence engaged in a bitter format war with rival Sony’s Blu-ray. The war came to a sudden, testicle-bashing end in January of 2008, when Warner Bros. announced it would end its policy of supporting both formats and throw its weight behind Blu-ray, because of that technology’s larger capacity and cooler n...
orld famous for his claims that bible math proved the rapture would come on May 22nd, and less famous for his claims a few days later that the rapture actually totally did happen, but it was all meta and conceptual and shit, Harold Camping has emerged from hiding this week to announce his boldest prediction yet: HD-DVD will be coming back on July 27th.
HD-DVD, the home video optical disc format launched by Japan’s Toshiba Corp in 2006, spent the entirety of its brief existence engaged in a bitter format war with rival Sony’s Blu-ray. The war came to a sudden, testicle-bashing end in January of 2008, when Warner Bros. announced it would end its policy of supporting both formats and throw its weight behind Blu-ray, because of that technology’s larger capacity and cooler name. Toshiba vowed to keep up the fight, while immediately stopping HD-DVD player production with its other hand and dispatching ninjas to WB headquarters with a surprise third hand that ended up being a fake made of paper mache. Soon after, the disc format folded like a delivery from Netflix.
"This is the real one," claimed Camping when questioned by the commune as to whether or not this was the real one. "I’ve read the bible twice and there it is, plain as day. Thine format begat by Toshiba shall rise once more, because The Jerk hath never come out on Blu-ray."
When this reporter pointed out that there was no fucking way it says "Toshiba" in the bible, Camping issued me a demerit for swearing and gave me a note to take to my parents. They are dead.
Skeptics of Camping’s revelation were not difficult to find.
"Bullshit," explained movie collector "Rowdy" Ronnie Pepper.
"Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit," he explained further.
And yet, Camping’s devout are convinced their man has it right again, for the first time.
"I totally knew it," boasted Philadelphia layabout Bob Rudolph. "All my friends were re-buying Black Rain on Blu-ray and I was like no way dude, HD-DVD is coming back. It’s in the bible and shit. With numbers."
"Wouldn’t that be awesome?" queried Quad Cities grass painter Mitchell Clung. "Imagine a world where you could buy any movie you wanted in high-def, as long as it was put out by Universal. It would be like heaven."
"The whole rapture fake-out was just a test to weed out the non-believers from the faithful," shouted Wisconsin housewife Mary Snupp, because this reporter had already started to walk across the street to interview someone who didn’t have cartoon cats on their doormat. "Now only the true of heart will know to start bidding on that Bee Movie HD-DVD on eBay."
When asked if Jesus would be returning with HD-DVD, Camping made a joke about The Passion of the Christ and then mumbled something about getting back to us after he’d learned how to do bible fractions. the commune news is still waiting for the return of laserdisc, but when it comes back we’ll be ready and waiting with the gigantic 200-laserdisc changer we’ve been working on in our garage since 1992. Raoul Dunkin is the commune’s key contact with our invaluable underground source, a sketchy figure known only by the alias "Deep Ass."
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Money-starved NASA developing hurricane-powered shuttle
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 May 26, 2003
From Lute to Guitar: A Guitar PrimerRecently a famous musician friend of mine who will remain anonymous, his first name Beck, asked me, "Yo, Griswald—the guitar. What the dillio?" From these utterances I constructed a crude sentence asking me the history of the guitar, and it's a good one. For centuries no instrument has been strummed more by drunken frat boys to woo underage poontang to a house party. It is America's instrument.
The basic design came from an instrument in the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages were so called namely because pretending you were smart would get your lights punched out by the unenlightened masses everywhere—it was like our modern-day Washington D.C., though the tie had yet to be created.
The original design is believed to be the creation of Johann Crunch, who later went on to invent a cereal while serving in the military. Crunch had kids that would not shut up, yet he found by pulling his wife's hair taut and plucking on it to make sounds he could lull them to sleep, and keep his wife in line. All this went in the crapper, however, when Crunch's wife died of a self-inflicted arrow wound. Not wanting to lose his ace in the hole with the kids, Crunch put her head on the end of a broom and tied the hair to the other end. This allowed him to create complicated chords with his left hand, like Gmaj7.
Upon his death, the guys who killed him made off with the strange instrument, which they called a lute, because they were uneducated and couldn't spell...
º Last Column: Colonel Gandhi's Chicken
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Recently a famous musician friend of mine who will remain anonymous, his first name Beck, asked me, "Yo, Griswald—the guitar. What the dillio?" From these utterances I constructed a crude sentence asking me the history of the guitar, and it's a good one. For centuries no instrument has been strummed more by drunken frat boys to woo underage poontang to a house party. It is America's instrument.
The basic design came from an instrument in the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages were so called namely because pretending you were smart would get your lights punched out by the unenlightened masses everywhere—it was like our modern-day Washington D.C., though the tie had yet to be created.
The original design is believed to be the creation of Johann Crunch, who later went on to invent a cereal while serving in the military. Crunch had kids that would not shut up, yet he found by pulling his wife's hair taut and plucking on it to make sounds he could lull them to sleep, and keep his wife in line. All this went in the crapper, however, when Crunch's wife died of a self-inflicted arrow wound. Not wanting to lose his ace in the hole with the kids, Crunch put her head on the end of a broom and tied the hair to the other end. This allowed him to create complicated chords with his left hand, like Gmaj7.
Upon his death, the guys who killed him made off with the strange instrument, which they called a lute, because they were uneducated and couldn't spell "loot" correctly. As one became more proficient with the lute, they formed the world's first modern band, though of course they could never find a reliable bass player.
The lute was mass-produced by monks, and the first design change was to start making it out of wood rather than maiden's skulls, a more cost-effective manner of production, and to use nylon and silk for the strings, for a more sensual plucking style.
The Dark Ages gave way to the Middle Ages, then a brief period called the So-So Ages, often unmentioned in history and a lot like our 1970s. As all this progressed, the lute became England's most popular instrument, and was also imported to Europe where it helped create primitive Goth Tech bands in Germany. By the time America had its independence from England and its natives, the lute had been extended and transformed into the guitar, so called just because lute sounded stupid. A modern descendant of the original Guitar family claims his six-times great-grandfather (though friends say he was only half as great as built up) is the one to have created the first guitar, because his long arms would get cramped trying to play "Love to Thee Maidens" on the lute and his frustrated picking style resulted in the frequent breaking of strings.
By the early twentieth century, the refinement process for steel had become so fluid they could make aluminum foil and guitar strings. Since they already made the strings, guitar players went ahead and decided to try putting steel strings on the guitar. Though they hurt like hell to play, the twangy-twang sound allowed the creation of country-western music, which is often referred to as "strike two" against steel strings.
In 1951, extremely bored with the Ozzie-&-Harriet world around him, musician Freddy Fender attempted to create the world's first electric guitar. It didn't necessarily sound like a good idea, but was part of Fender's ongoing attempt to make an electric everything. Though his electric shoes caused calluses and toe rot and his electric water balloons killed instantly, Fender had apparently found his niche and lodged himself quickly inside it with the electric guitar. He made a fortune selling pickups and amplifiers alone. He also opened the door to Peter Frampton and other musicians who couldn't play a regular guitar to any degree of interest.
Today, you'll find an unplayed guitar in nearly every closet across this great nation, and it's no secret why. I put them there. º Last Column: Colonel Gandhi's Chickenº more columns
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|  April 28, 2003
Here's Your Objectivity, Dykecommune Editor Ramrod Hurley here, for one, was shocked and insulted by comments by BBC Director Greg Dyke Thursday insinuating American media coverage had lost all pretenses of objectivity. Or maybe "insinuating" was not the right word. "Outright accusing" is probably closer.
Posh, I say. Or if that's too effeminate for you: bullshit.
There's always someone from international media sources quick to charge American media coverage with being biased. Those people we call "terrorists." It's a shame to see the BBC align themselves with terrorists. Terrorists.
Speaking as the head of the commune, America's first source for third-source news, we know the virtue of objectivity more than anyone. the commune has prided itself on being an alternative source of news from its inception, and spelling its title with all lowercase letters. And though we value dissenting opinion like anyone, we recognize the importance of sharing the same dissenting opinion as those in power.
It doesn't take pure objectivity to see Iraq is a country plagued by years of repression, a government under which only suffering flourished. Even the most objective eyes can recognize Saddam Hussein was the great Satan, and only his immediate, brutal death could free his people and oil. The administration was quick to point this out, and provided evidence by way of saying it repeatedly. It was in the best interest of our nation, the people of Iraq, intangible...
º Last Column: Apologies to the President
º more columns
commune Editor Ramrod Hurley here, for one, was shocked and insulted by comments by BBC Director Greg Dyke Thursday insinuating American media coverage had lost all pretenses of objectivity. Or maybe "insinuating" was not the right word. "Outright accusing" is probably closer.
Posh, I say. Or if that's too effeminate for you: bullshit.
There's always someone from international media sources quick to charge American media coverage with being biased. Those people we call "terrorists." It's a shame to see the BBC align themselves with terrorists. Terrorists.
Speaking as the head of the commune, America's first source for third-source news, we know the virtue of objectivity more than anyone. the commune has prided itself on being an alternative source of news from its inception, and spelling its title with all lowercase letters. And though we value dissenting opinion like anyone, we recognize the importance of sharing the same dissenting opinion as those in power.
It doesn't take pure objectivity to see Iraq is a country plagued by years of repression, a government under which only suffering flourished. Even the most objective eyes can recognize Saddam Hussein was the great Satan, and only his immediate, brutal death could free his people and oil. The administration was quick to point this out, and provided evidence by way of saying it repeatedly. It was in the best interest of our nation, the people of Iraq, intangible ideas like freedom and democracy, and possibly apple pie, that we secure with military force the safety of the country.
To you critics, I say that the American media has objectively rallied behind the president in this time of crisis. For the sake of liberating Iraq from the greatest evil the world has ever known, we have put aside our need to "investigate" and "question" the administration. Those who allege we're co-conspirators with the Washington agenda in Iraq, I tell you this: Saddam Hussein gasses his own people. Do you like that? Gassing your own people? Is that your idea of objectivity? Buttholes.
We at the commune have embraced a new kind of objectivity, a quieter, more servile objectivity. It's not like we haven't tried the "objecting" kind of objectivity. We did that for years, with reporters like Raoul Dunkin and that other Duncan, what's her face, invading the personal space of Washington's top brass and asking them questions they didn't want to hear. We've even tried more a offensive, hands-on approach to reporting with correspondents like Ramon Nootles with personal space issues and groping habits, or Ted Ted who frequently quotes his friends and rants loudly in lieu of actual information. In the end, like that commercial song says, you "got" to give the people, give the people what they want. The people have spoken, and they want reinforcement.
You guys at the BBC and other terrorist-friendly news organizations can lob charges at American news all you want, but the fact is you only bitch us out as news organizations because that's what Britain and other countries want to see. Ooo, America sucks, ooo, America is full of inbred hillbillies with a gun in each hand and shouting "Whoo-hoo!" through a mouth full of overcooked hamburger. Well, that's surely true, but only anti-American European dicks would want to watch that on the news all the time. In the end, it is the responsibility of electronic media to cater to what its audience already expects to hear. And the commune's new slogan is, we cater! º Last Column: Apologies to the Presidentº more columns
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Milestones1812: Some kind of war of note happened, probably involving some big shot historical guys. People waved their dicks around and shouted, most likely.Now HiringBitchin' Ninja. Ass-kicking ninja needed for sword-swallowing, punching through solid rock, hiding underwater for days at a time, providing tactical superiority over other online news-magazines, cosmetics consultations, brick-laying, snowboarding out of airplanes, cooking delicious soufflés, cowering foes with a steely glare, and taxidermy. Mystical world-view a plus.Top 5 Smart New Weight Loss Tips| 1. | Carbs are like the devil’s penis: Delicious but fattening. | | 2. | After a workout, treat yourself to a tasty ice cube sandwich. | | 3. | Weigh yourself after masturbating. For guys, you’ll be a little bit lighter. For the ladies, you won’t be so upset when you find out you’re still fat. | | 4. | You’re never going to lose any weight if you insist on eating every single day. | | 5. | At-home liposuction is the third-easiest surgery to perform on yourself at home, after heart valve roto-rootering and a cock transplant. | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 3/31/2003 Holy movie overload, America! Like most of us, Hollywood is doing a little spring-cleaning this week, but instead of dragging unused exercise equipment and boxes of used pornography to the curb, they're dragging their excess cinema to the, well… Cinema. That's what they call movie theaters over in Europe, unless they're showing skin flicks. They call those places Fuckhausen, which if you ask me is much better than the obvious alternative of Skinema. Because that just sounds gross. Enough of that though, we have no time to waste on Europe this week. Too many movies!
In Theaters
Ass! Ass! National Tango!
Either a bold career move by star Robert Duvall, or else the product of a Duvallian...
Holy movie overload, America! Like most of us, Hollywood is doing a little spring-cleaning this week, but instead of dragging unused exercise equipment and boxes of used pornography to the curb, they're dragging their excess cinema to the, well… Cinema. That's what they call movie theaters over in Europe, unless they're showing skin flicks. They call those places Fuckhausen, which if you ask me is much better than the obvious alternative of Skinema. Because that just sounds gross. Enough of that though, we have no time to waste on Europe this week. Too many movies!
In Theaters
Ass! Ass! National Tango!
Either a bold career move by star Robert Duvall, or else the product of a Duvallian drunk-fest lost weekend, Ass! Ass! National Tango! is a stupefyingly bizarre new film that establishes writer/director/star Duvall as the Japanese David Lynch. And yeah, I know he's not Japanese, but how else can you explain that title? Or the fact that half of the roles in the film are played by roller-skating apes? Reviewing this film is like trying to review a dream, or a sexual encounter with a great white shark. Good luck there. Over half the film is instruction on what you should bring with you if you want to have a nice picnic. The rest is like a cross between Last Tango in Paris, Tango & Cash and the commercial where that guy wakes up hung-over in bed with the Budweiser Clydesdales. Weird.
Bringing Down the House
Steve Martin's trail of tears continues, as apparently whoever has been picking his scripts for him lately still has Martin's wife and kids in an undisclosed location with guns to their heads. You've got to feel bad for Martin, no doubt, but the real victims in all of this are his fans, since I highly doubt Steve has actually sat through any of the shitty movies he's been in lately. Sure, you wouldn't be crazy to suggest that his kidnapped family are victims too, that's fair enough. But wherever they are, they still probably haven't seen Bringing Down the House, since even kidnappers have a conscience. That, and I imagine it's pretty difficult to bring kidnapping victims to the movies, as people have enough trouble with their own kids and elderly relatives. Having someone hog-tied and with a pillowcase over their head tagging along while you're trying to find a seat in the dark and then they need you to carry them to the bathroom would probably sour you on the whole experience even before the Coke commercials were over.
Dreamcatcher
You know gay cinema has hit a saturation point when they start naming big-budget films after gay slang terms that most breeders would completely miss. The name fits the film however, a bizarre parable about the search for Mr. Right. Only in this case Mr. Right turns out to be some weird alien thing that explodes out of people's asses and makes everyone in a one-mile radius overact. I'm not sure exactly what symbolic significance this has within the gay dating culture, but the alien is pretty badass.
The Hunted
CrĂĽe drummer Tommy Lee and Benecio Del Toro of riding mower fame star in this remake of the popular "stupid French skunk in love" cartoons from the 1940's. The stunt casting might seem a misfit at first, but Del Toro is perfect as the horn-dogging Pepe and Lee is scarily convincing as the hot chick skunk who always seems to have a headache.
Piglet's Big Movement
Residents of The Hundred Acre Woods are suffering from a serious case of the heebie jeebies after Piglet takes a shit the size of an El Camino. Everybody wants to ask him about it, for the sake of curiosity and the public health; only nobody knows a tactful way to bring it up. A lot of soul-searching ensues before Pooh is finally elected to solve the mystery, since with his name the matter seems to fall under his jurisdiction. After some funny misunderstandings and adventures, Pooh finally discovers that Piglet didn't shit at all; Eeyore just fell asleep in a mud bath. Disney's latest is fun for the whole family, though it make be too graphic for any conservative senators in the family.
Tears of the Sun
Let me be the first, or at least the most recent, to say that this is a really stupid name for a movie. It sounds all poetic at first, and you imagine Bruce Willis saying some shit so beautiful it makes the sun cry, like he does in all his movies. But then when you stop and think about it, it's just insane. Even if the sun really did come to life with a face and start flinging scoops of raisins all over the place, and then Bruce said some sappy high-school graduation speech nonsense that made the sun cry, it wouldn't be some beautiful poignant moment like you'd think. It would be hell on earth! Those would be some molten, flaming tears that would fuck up everything in sight, burning right through houses and orphanages and there'd be car alarms going off all over the place. Thanks a lot, Bruce! Asshole.
Willard
I always knew there was something not quite right with Willard Scott, but I never would have imagined he controlled a huge legion of nasty killer rats. I just thought he probably wore panties or was secretly in the KKK or something. The grisly truth snuck up on me like I was a drunk virgin on prom night. I guess it just goes to show that just because you're optimistic and give people the benefit of the doubt, that doesn't mean they're going to play along just to keep you from looking stupid.
That's the column this week, gents and gentiles. The Oscars are worm-food until next year, but we're still frolicking through the meadow, picking delicious movie melons from the melon tree. Be sure to check back next issue for more of the smoky bacon flavor you've come to crave.   |
