North Korea to Nuke South Korea, Themselves

crewball North Korean leader Kim Jong Il confused the world yesterday by threatening to nuke South Korea, moments before humping a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Marilyn Monroe in front of thousands of onlookers and international news goons. The time-killing standoff between North Korea and the U.S. sped up a tick when Kim, galled by the United States’ demands for the scrapping of his nuclear arms program and South Korea’s calls for a compromise on the matter, pledged to bomb his southern neighbor, and by its close geographical proximity, his own country, to prove to the world that he means business.

Kim was quoted by a drunken German reporter as saying “You Amelicans so clazy! We nukes you in the Mickey Mouse!”

Experts on the Korean situation insist that Kim is serious, in spite of how goofy he looks. They claim that North Korea has the means, the will, and the lack of parental supervision to follow through with its deadly plan. People totally ignorant to the situation, however, insist that he’s full of shit and is probably just taking the country for a joyride while his dad is away on business or something.

Potent images of Kim Jong Il dancing around in his underwear to the tune of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock & Roll” aside, this reporter had more pressing questions for the North Korean dictator. Like, what the fuck’s up with that name? Isn’t Kim supposed to be a chick name? I bet that got his ass karated in grade school. Unfortunately, Kim could not be reached for comment on this or other girly-name topics.

A source speaking under the condition of anonymity had this to say: “I ain’t shittin’ you, man, this shit’s got to be anonymous, I’m not even kidding. Cause what I gots to say is hotter than Halle Berry with some kind of malarian fever, know what I’m sayin’? Shit. So if I read in your paper that Leroy said this, I come to kill your non-confidentiating ass, dig?”

Kim’s announcement was followed by a gala parade and fireworks show featuring workers dressed as large Korean knock-offs of Muppets with names like Grover the Dog and Mrs. Frogfuck. While Kim snacked on royal salmon caught in the vaginas of beautiful women and wine that had gold flakes dissolved in it just for shits and giggles, acrobats flipped through the air and less graceful workers held up flags detailing the glorious nuking of South Korea and the beautiful fallout that would soon spread to the victorious North. The Mardi Gras atmosphere was marred somewhat by the genital electrocution of several parade workers who dishonored the state by pronouncing the “R” in Korea, but spirits rose quickly when a dancing bear wearing a sombrero rolled in on top of a huge rubber ball while wearing a “Made in Korea” tee shirt.

The finale and highlight of the evening was the forced labor-camp imprisonment of anyone who had ever been to South Korea, and their families.

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Hello commune:

Do I know you from somewhere? I could swear that I do. You seem so familiar. Are you the website where I got all that barnyard porn last year? Thanks a lot, if that's the case. I had to enroll in veterinary school to justify that one to my wife. But no, the more I think about it, that site had more horse cocks than yours. Where do I know you from? Were you the website that told me to buy all that stock in that edible dildo company? Again, thanks a lot. But I seem to remember they had all their fonts in pink. Hmm. Who are you guys? You must have been on the computer during my brother's wedding. Something like that. Weird.

Rick Splitz
Old Phone, Vermont

Dear Rick:

According to our exhaustive research and forensic computer analysis, we believe the sites in question to have been BustyBarnyardBitches.com, EatADick.com and DrunkBridesmaidBang.com. As for the commune, we don't believe you've ever visited our site, since we know all of our eleven visitors by IP address and think of them lovingly as family. Which may make it seem strange that we've even bothered to answer your letter, but we're confident that word of its publication will eventually reach you through the grapevine of pedophiles, speed freaks, Oakies, defamed Catholic priests, jigsaw puzzle enthusiasts and sub-Star Trek geeks who read the commune. Take care.

the commune

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Dear commune:

Please die.

Stacey Altamont
Redburn, Georgia


Dear Stacey:

Finally, a civil letter we can respond to. Good to hear from you again Stacey. Though we like to honor reader requests when possible (see "commune please cure my cancer," issue 37), we've run into a small problem with yours. Apparently there remain a few antiquated state laws on the books about mass murder within office buildings, even when sanctioned by a total stranger via US Mail. What will they think of next? Making it illegal to keep small children locked in your basement for the purpose of pay-per-view pitbull wrestling? Sorry Stacey, try writing your congressman a letter.

the commune

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Dear commune:

the commune's retrospective article on baseball pioneer Hank Greenberg (Big League Jew, July 14th) was both racist and derogatory. No it wasn't. Yes it was. The fact of the matter is that I don't know how I feel about the commune's Greenberg article. And this is a problem. Please make it a point to run articles in the future that I understand my feelings about more clearly. Thank you.

Dickie Waters
Bleaching, New Mexico


Dear Dickie:

Always happy to hear from a fan. Actually, we're not. Okay, we are. Hold on. We'll get back to you.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for anyone's actions after reading the commune's first Book of the Month selection, "Why Do the Arabs Hate Us, and How Can We Kill Them?" We just liked the cool drawing on the cover.

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Last installment we ended with the great video game crash of 1982, which treated the world to visions of programmers heading west across the dust bowl in Calistoga wagons, embarrassing holes worn through their one-dollar pants. Entire landfills had to be created to accommodate the vast influx of unplayed games and unused gaming consoles manufactured in the early 80's. The town of E.T., Maine, was founded around a massive landfill that Atari created to hide the shame of the millions of unsold E.T. game cartridges produced before the company realized that not even stamping the name of a hit movie on the cartridge could save one of the shittiest games ever produced.

From this smoking hole in the ground Nintendo would emerge with the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1985. Hujitsu Homanama had formed the company to sell his sexy playing cards in 1889, naming it "Nintendo," a Japanese word meaning "eat the children." Over time the company would evolve into other areas of gaming, scoring hits in the early 80's with arcade hits Donkey Kong and Stick Dick in Hole for Blow. But total world domination would have to wait until 1985, when the company's first home console grabbed the world by its balls and mopped the floor with it, like some kind of weird ball-handled mop.

The driving force behind the success of the NES was its megahit pack-in game, Super Mario Bros. Offering gamers a glimpse of what happened to those bickering, deranged Italians after they finally climbed out of the sewer at the end of the original Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. delighted children the world over with its colorful, drug-induced imagery and perhaps the most cruelly addictive theme song of any video game ever. Years later, respected American composer George Crumb would be shamed in the international community when he realized he had inadvertently written the Super Mario Bros. theme into one of the movements of his grand fifth symphony. Regardless, anyone who had grown up with a NES controller fused to their mitts and that maddening little song in their ear was quick to forgive.

And the hits kept coming for Nintendo, thanks in part to the system's forward-looking peripherals. The NES light gun and Duck Hunt made the fun of unprovoked attacks on animals possible without the horrors of spending time outdoors. And thanks to the Robotic Operating Buddy peripheral and the game Gyromite, millions of kids developed critical thinking skills trying to figure out why in the hell Nintendo had put out a complicated robot controller that only worked with one lousy game.

Nintendo even branched out into 3-D games with the inimitable Rad Racer in 1987, a driving simulation title that perfectly captured the powerful nausea someone would experience trying to drive a race car while wearing red and blue glasses.

Though certainly a milestone in the racing game genre, Rad Racer was hardly the first, or the radest. Most rader. The first arcade racing game was actually 1979's Chicken Run, a bizarre title unrelated to the later claymation movie. The game revolved around how many chickens a player could run over with a Datsun in three minutes, based on one of the game creator's DUI convictions from college. Though undeniably fun, Chicken Run would soon be pushed to the back pages of history by 1982's legendary Pole Position. Pole Position remains to this day the most accurate driving simulation ever created, marveling gamers with its realistic physics, and is still the program that the Army uses to train its formula-one drivers.

Pole Position was followed by Sega's Outrun in 1986. In Outrun, the gamer took on the role of a red convertible piloted by a couple of Californian genetic freaks capable of surviving repeated rollover wrecks that would have decapitated a Samoan. A hit cartoon of the game had to be pulled from the air in 1987 because parents' groups thought it was giving young children the message that rollover fatalities are fun.

And thus we're backwardly introduced to Nintendo's only real competition, if you could call it that, in the era of 8-bit home gaming, an American company called Sega. Sega was started by a Korean War veteran named David Rosen as a front company called Service Games, which Rosen used to sell chintzy Japanese pinball machines to American families as a magnetic homeopathic therapy for kids with cancer. Rosen claimed the machines would cure a variety of fatal illnesses, as well as play a fun little song if your wellness score topped 100,000. Later he shortened the name to Sega because he was a very lazy and uncreative man.

Sega scored early hits with the frog abuse fantasy Frogger and the Dr. Seuss-inspired Zaxxon, which grew enough hair on Sega's balls that they thought competing with Nintendo sounded like a good idea. Thusly in 1986 came the release of the Sega Master System, which was actually Sega's fifth console, but the first that didn't have the added functionality and electrocution risk of a built-in juicer.

The only problem was that Sega forgot to make a Super Mario Bros. for its own system, opting instead to put out a whole line of crap. Later, the Turbo Grafx 16, Neo-Geo, Atari's Jaguar and 3DO would all attempt to compete with the NES and lose, because they all sucked a giant dong. The Sega Master system was relegated to "little bitch" role, having to settle for finding a home in households that somehow couldn't find a NES or weren't sure how to buy one.

Sega would later turn the tables on Nintendo with their 16-bit Genesis console, which outsold the Super Nintendo due to confusion about what a hedgehog was, and the surprisingly large number of dumb kids who didn't want to have to choose between "soup or Nintendo." Nintendo would have the last laugh, however, with the release of the Game Boy in 1989, an extremely crappy portable gaming system and technological leap backward which would go on to become the best-selling gaming machine ever. Since the Game Boy was cobbled together inexpensively from components of Russian consumer electronics leftover from the early 1950's, Nintendo's profit margins were enormous and executives spent the entire decade of the 1990's laughing.

Later, even more shit would happen. Stay tuned.

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