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Shuttle Tragedy Not Even a Blip on Radar Screen Any MoreApril 14, 2003 |
Cape Canaveral, TX Snapper McGee Tragic Columbia flight may have started like this, but who can remember? ess than two months after the space shuttle Columbia exploded in the skies over a number of western American states, a Gallup poll reveals that at least 87% of all citizens don't even remember that it happened. Six percent said that they recall "something like that sort of happening a while back, or whatever," and another seven percent simply replied "Huh?"
"It was the gravest and most important news of the moment. Americans everywhere felt a profound sense of grief at that tragic loss, at least until more important events occurred," said FOX anchorman Brit Hume. "It was humbling, at the time, to experience such a stirring loss for our nation, but it was understandably forgotten when the Michael Jackson interview aired, and 'American Idol' returned to TV, and after we declare...
ess than two months after the space shuttle Columbia exploded in the skies over a number of western American states, a Gallup poll reveals that at least 87% of all citizens don't even remember that it happened. Six percent said that they recall "something like that sort of happening a while back, or whatever," and another seven percent simply replied "Huh?"
"It was the gravest and most important news of the moment. Americans everywhere felt a profound sense of grief at that tragic loss, at least until more important events occurred," said FOX anchorman Brit Hume. "It was humbling, at the time, to experience such a stirring loss for our nation, but it was understandably forgotten when the Michael Jackson interview aired, and 'American Idol' returned to TV, and after we declared war on France and, uh... oh yeah, Iraq."
"We at CNN are dedicated to forging the path to the truth of these mortifying events and exposing the cause for as long as it takes," CNN anchor Shepherd Smith pointed out. "But that was provided there were no new developments in the DC sniper hearings, or Martha Stewart didn't set her Imclone stock on fire. And, as everyone knows, there were a lot of breaking stories in the days following the Challenger explosion, including- What? The Columbia? When?"
MSNBC reporter Victoria Corderi added with a giggle that she couldn't recall "even the tiniest detail of that story now. I can tell you where I had my hair done last week, though. And I can name all fifty state capitals. Want to hear? There's Augusta, and there's Birmingham, and there's... wait, is it Birmingham? Oh yeah, and I think Atlanta, or does that take the place of Augusta...? And there's definitely Albany. Definitely Albany. There's Sacramento, too, but wait, I'm getting out of order..."
Systems analyst Prudy Righteous, of Hellflung, Arizona, responded to the Gallup poll, and told pollsters that she thought she remembered something about finding a big pile of twisted metal wreckage and what appeared to be a scattering of human remains while vacationing at her parents' ranch in west Texas, but that "It all seems like a blur to me now. You know how you have those funny kind of wakey dreams, where everything seems so real, like aliens standing over your bed and anal-probing you, but you don't really remember it in the morning? It was kind of like that."
Another respondent, unemployed seasonal worker Manuel Shorthoe, of Reamer, Nevada, said that he thought he saw something bright streaking across the sky a couple months back, but added that "You guys prob'ly shouldn't pay much attention to that. I see that kind of stuff while staring at the ceiling in my living room all the time. You know. But hey, did you catch that Michael Jackson interview? Man, that guy is like a total freakin' freak, you know what I'm saying?"
When asked if they thought the shuttle program should continue in light of the now-forgotten tragedy, a full 90% responded "Heck yeah! How else are we going to get to the airport? You know how much long term parking costs there?"
Because the number of people sampled was much higher than usual -- a whopping 57,392 people responded, probably because they were all promised that Bill Gates would send them a check and a gift certificate to the Gap if they did so -- the margin for error was set at approximately plus or minus 14%. Contrary to most poll respondents, we here at the commune recall the shuttle tragedy in great detail. It was the same morning that Bludney Pludd brought lox and bagels and cream cheese to the office, trying to do a little brown-nosing, but the cream cheese was bad and gave most everyone in the office a bad case of the runs. Thanks, Bludney. Look for a little something special in your next pay envelope.
 | Paxil linked to clinical depression in newborns
Rap mogul Suge Knight shot while Robert Blake out in car getting gun
Guy in lunchroom actually laughing out loud at comic strip "Marvin"
Republicans: Iraq okay; Democrats: Iraq in trouble
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Cheney Comrade Injured During Hunt for Bin Laden Arizona Border Patrol Installing Landmines Serial Killer’s Neighbor: “He just wouldn’t shut up about serial killing.” Heather Graham’s Career Found Dead in Apartment |
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 July 22, 2002
The Truth Behind John Walker LindhDoes everyone recall when John Walker was busted by our elite killing force of C.I.A. operatives over in Afghanistan? Sure they do. And then, all of a sudden, after announcing to us all that John Walker, an American, had been arrested among the Al Qaeda forces, they come out and start calling him John Walker Lindh? Hold on to your asses, folks, 'cause medicine man Red Bagel is about to seriously blow your mind.
How convenient that a plea bargain prevented Lindh's case from reaching his testimonial. Some might say it was the work of defense and prosecutors to put this nightmare of the American judicial system behind us, so Lindh could get on to facing his punishment and the American people could feel some sense of justice. I say malarkey! Ma-lar-key! Nobody wanted Lindh to testify—not his attorney, not the Justice Department, not Lindh himself.
The truth is that John Walker and John Walker Lindh are two separate people. Whoa, eh? Blew your mind out your ass, didn't I? Red Bagel promises, Red Bagel delivers.
If Lindh had testified, he would have doubtlessly revealed his horrid true story. Even if he had attempted to keep it a secret, those of us who know the real John Walker, or the most basic of human behaviors, would have suspected something was amiss. Because John Walker was sent to Afghanistan to infiltrate the Al Qaeda terrorist organization after the bombing of the U.S. Naval ship. That's right, Walker was no traitor, but the...
º Last Column: We're Through the Looking Glass, People º more columns
Does everyone recall when John Walker was busted by our elite killing force of C.I.A. operatives over in Afghanistan? Sure they do. And then, all of a sudden, after announcing to us all that John Walker, an American, had been arrested among the Al Qaeda forces, they come out and start calling him John Walker Lindh? Hold on to your asses, folks, 'cause medicine man Red Bagel is about to seriously blow your mind.
How convenient that a plea bargain prevented Lindh's case from reaching his testimonial. Some might say it was the work of defense and prosecutors to put this nightmare of the American judicial system behind us, so Lindh could get on to facing his punishment and the American people could feel some sense of justice. I say malarkey! Ma-lar-key! Nobody wanted Lindh to testify—not his attorney, not the Justice Department, not Lindh himself.
The truth is that John Walker and John Walker Lindh are two separate people. Whoa, eh? Blew your mind out your ass, didn't I? Red Bagel promises, Red Bagel delivers.
If Lindh had testified, he would have doubtlessly revealed his horrid true story. Even if he had attempted to keep it a secret, those of us who know the real John Walker, or the most basic of human behaviors, would have suspected something was amiss. Because John Walker was sent to Afghanistan to infiltrate the Al Qaeda terrorist organization after the bombing of the U.S. Naval ship. That's right, Walker was no traitor, but the noblest of subversive, patriotic spies.
It was only once over there that Walker discovered how closed Al Qaeda was to outsiders. It was this close-knit secrecy that impeded Walker's infiltration attempts, and kept him from finding out about the Sept. 11 attacks until it was too late. Only shortly after, the Al Qaeda realized how valuable a symbol Walker could prove—an American traitor joining their cause. So they put Walker through the loyalty ritual.
Not all Al Qaeda members go through the loyalty ritual. Only outsiders that Osama bin Laden does not personally know or people he thinks would be funny to humiliate. Walker, and other possible recruits, were forced to eat alien larvae that had been found among cowpies in Saudi Arabia. The origin of these alien larvae were unknown, and picked by bin Laden only because of their strange purplish color. Those who wish to prove their loyalty eat the disgusting larvae and therefore show their dedication, which beats their previous test of eating dynamite and running into a wall, which really limited their new recruits.
Unfortunately, this larvae ingested by Walker and others contained sentient alien life that slowly began to reproduce his shape from the inside. In fact, by the time of the Al Qaeda Oz-like prison riot in which he was apprehended, John Walker as we knew him was no more. He had been disintegrated inside out, replaced with a hybrid alien-human being calling itself John Walker Lindh (after the alien larvae's own name in its own tongue). By the time our government realized their recovered spy was not the same person, they had to treat him like a traitor and silence him with this mock trial, but keep him from testifying to the American people as to his true nature.
For those who might doubt the legitimacy of this story, admittedly pieced together through my own ten minutes of research on the Internet, I pose this question to you: What other reasons would an American have to side with another country against his own, the noblest and most Christian-like in the world? º Last Column: We're Through the Looking Glass, Peopleº more columns
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|  March 21, 2005
More Than WordsExhibit A:
Hair rockers with a conscience Extreme's 1990 hit "More Than Words"
Lasting Cultural Impact:
Joy, hope, and black nail polish for the masses.
Separated at Birth:
Anything by the Everly Brothers.
Verdict:
Extreme-ly moving.
Lyric Sample:
Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
Analysis:
If you're anything like me, this has to be one of your all-time favorite records and without doubt one of the enduring songs of the modern age. Long after fads like Schubert and Rachmaninoff have been justly forgotten to the sands of time, future historians will still be debating the everlasting impact of Extreme. Their flame burnt all too briefly, it is true, but with a piercing brightness that can only be compared to that of the earth's very genesis.
Standing out even more absurdly when surrounded by the superficial garbage being released in its day, trashy CDs even pressed on cheap and nasty plastic with cases that would not close completely, Extreme's entire Extreme II: Pornograffitti album was a rare treasure that made...
º Last Column: Bitch-Slapped? Hardly º more columns
Exhibit A:
Hair rockers with a conscience Extreme's 1990 hit "More Than Words"
Lasting Cultural Impact:
Joy, hope, and black nail polish for the masses.
Separated at Birth:
Anything by the Everly Brothers.
Verdict:
Extreme-ly moving.
Lyric Sample:
Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
Analysis:
If you're anything like me, this has to be one of your all-time favorite records and without doubt one of the enduring songs of the modern age. Long after fads like Schubert and Rachmaninoff have been justly forgotten to the sands of time, future historians will still be debating the everlasting impact of Extreme. Their flame burnt all too briefly, it is true, but with a piercing brightness that can only be compared to that of the earth's very genesis.
Standing out even more absurdly when surrounded by the superficial garbage being released in its day, trashy CDs even pressed on cheap and nasty plastic with cases that would not close completely, Extreme's entire Extreme II: Pornograffitti album was a rare treasure that made the year 1990 seem even more like it were only a blissful dream.
Those wishing to lend a guiding hand to today's aspiring songwriters – or if you yourself would like to be an aspiring songwriter! – should take this album as their own personal bible. Don't just listen to it—fools! Study it, and feel your music muscles grow. Live with it, and as the years pass by it will reveal its secrets to you, like a highly-secretive woman.
The album's signature track, "More than Words," was an experiment. And it was wildly successful. Extreme gambled that the record-buying public was ready for a break from their normal punishing hair-metal sound, and the result served as an elegant baroque turn that caught the public completely off-guard, like a sucker-punch in the shower. Somewhat to my relief, the rest of the album still rocked in customary Extreme fashion. But "More than Words," this was a special moment indeed. A quiet moment of reflection at the pinnacle of rock, climbed by intrepid glam-fags bent on discovering the truth at life's very core.
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you
Lead singer and band hair consultant Gary Cherone lent his vocal talents and remarkable coif to this beautiful ballad, adding textured layers of meaning to guitar virtuoso and band soul-possessor Nuno Bettencourt's breathtaking composition. The intricate game of chess that exists between Cherone's vocal phrasings and Bettencourt's smoldering acoustic strumming cannot be fully explored even in twelve thesis papers—believe me, I have tried. Suffice it to say that even the song's beautifully clear and supple lyrics, legendary in their own right and unmatched by any Dylan Thomas scribblings or Wordsworthian drivel, are only but a pale refection of the true genius residing in this song's musical structure.
More than words
Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don't ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
This verse in particular highlights Bettencourt's wonderful sense of humor. He'd already know? Indeed. Many listeners miss this subtlety due to their sense of mesmerized awe over Nuno's vividly realized landscapes of sound.
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you
Few with ears can avoid being drawn into this song's intense lyrical beauty, or its equally moving outbursts of extreme brutality and obscenity, vital organs being torn asunder by that cruel mistress that is true love! Like all of us, Bettencourt is trapped: trapped in the universe - and trapped in a body. Like us graceless mortals, too, he desires happiness and is averse to suffering. In this song, he is experiencing the agony of incarnation, the agony of being in a body. Nuno suffers from heat, cold, thirst, hunger, fear, desire, confusion, frustration, loss, pain, injury, terror, and ultimately death, all laid bare for our benefit within the course of a heart-stopping four minutes of pop heaven. Are you listening, Mozart? Perhaps if you'd lived a bit longer, you could have learned a thing or two about music. Dr. Joyce Pickles, M.D.P.S.T., received her degree in psychology from U.S. Zoological College in Burnt Harbor, Maine. We're not quite sure why she chooses to contribute to the commune, she's either a fan of the site or she believed us when we said we were calling from The New Yorker.º Last Column: Bitch-Slapped? Hardlyº more columns
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Milestones131 B.C.: Roman inventor Pontius creates love accidentally while trying to come up with a perfume that staves off homosexuality. Anyone who disagrees, we invite them to tell us who created love then.Now HiringBarber. Staff barber sought to keep heads neat and trim, faces clean shaven, and reduce hippieness by at least 30%. Own scissors and weird Vitalis smell a plus. Controversial "tell-it-like-it-is" barbers need not apply.QVC Top Sellers| 1. | Edible Bacon Sleeping Mask | | 2. | Avocado Clock | | 3. | Big Bag 'o Cubic Zirconiums | | 4. | Electronic Feces Sniffer | | 5. | "Great Jews of the 60's" Trading Card Set | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 11/28/2005 Gutentang, Americana. Everybody’s favorite Roland McShyster is here, wheeling and dealing out the movie reviews like you so lustily desire. We’re going to try something new this week: brushing our teeth with dish soap. Though I guess that "we" really depends on whether or not you’re one of the people who had that same idea this week. If so, good luck! I hear it gets a lot better after you get your gag reflex under control. Me, personally, I’m starting to think I picked a lousy week to start brushing my teeth.
Get Rick or Die Tryin’
Run, leap, and ass-scoot your way to the theater now while you can still catch this harrowing inner-city tale of rapper 50-Cents (played by rapper Eminem in stunning blackface) trying to pick up his brother Rick from...
Gutentang, Americana. Everybody’s favorite Roland McShyster is here, wheeling and dealing out the movie reviews like you so lustily desire. We’re going to try something new this week: brushing our teeth with dish soap. Though I guess that "we" really depends on whether or not you’re one of the people who had that same idea this week. If so, good luck! I hear it gets a lot better after you get your gag reflex under control. Me, personally, I’m starting to think I picked a lousy week to start brushing my teeth.
Get Rick or Die Tryin’
Run, leap, and ass-scoot your way to the theater now while you can still catch this harrowing inner-city tale of rapper 50-Cents (played by rapper Eminem in stunning blackface) trying to pick up his brother Rick from the mall but there’s no parking. Auntie Em’s (an excellent nickname I’ve just now coined) refreshingly acting-free performance gives the film its central nuts, but the true star is that mall parking lot, which is really big and really, really full of cars. I don’t know if they had to use the CGI team from Antz in Pantz or if they just filmed all of Southern California from space, but they definitely got a lot of cars into that lot. Look for the next ride at Universal Studios to play off this thrill-monster, with two gripping hours of the dude driving around, trying to find a place to park the tram.
Jarhead
Leave it to George Lucas to fuck us all in the ass. Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to start a movie review with that sentence. But this time it really applies, as Lucas has finally shat the inevitable and dreaded Jar-Jar Binks spin-off movie into our laps, allowing the big G to remain safely ensconced within his Star Wars universe for the foreseeable future. Get ready to hate the next several spin-offs in the works, including "Han’s Having a Baby," "Wedge Anilles’ Last Stand," "Jabba Gets a Job," and "Droid Annoyed" scheduled every four years from now until the merciful end of the world.
Legend of Gonzo
At first I thought Antonio Banderas was a questionable answer to the question of "Who should play Gonzo, Antonio Bandearas or what?" But then I saw the original Mask of Gonzo. That movie was so long that I forgot the question for nearly three years, and by then I had forgotten the movie so I wasn’t at all sure if Banderas had done a good Gonzo job or not and I didn’t much care because I had discovered Dippin’ Dots, this space age super-frozen ice cream that you can only get at the mall or the place where they froze Walt Disney’s head. Now I have to ask the question again, because I’m sure there are a lot of great actors out there with huge noses and/or purple felt skin who would have been naturals for the role. Not that Banderas did a bad job, he just did a terrible job. My wait for a great Gonzo movie continues.
Shopgirl
You’ve got to admit, Steve Martin took a huge risk in directing a movie spin-off of Tool Time from Home Improvement and in casting Claire Danes as the bimbo. It could have turned out to be a giant disaster, and it did. Sadly for all involved in the watching, Martin’s leap of faith sailed just five inches to the left of genius, where it landed squarely in regrettable. Merely starting over completely from scratch could have made all the difference, though, so keep your eyes out for Martin’s next harebrained idea: it could be a winner.
The Whether Man
Nicholas "Pileggi" Cage is greatific in this, the finest movie that will ever be made about a guy who can’t make up his mind about anything. I know that’s a big statement, encompassing all future events in the existence of mankind and all, but I’m that confident no one is reading this column. Cage employs both of his acting modes "SURPRISED" and "BEFUDDLED" in this role, which should earn him either an Oscar or a Husker, the customary award for going both ways. As for the film itself, the plot wasn’t so memorable that I retained it in my brain in any way, but every time the sky was shown in this movie, it was uniformly blue and beautiful, which is more than I can say about any film made before 1930.
So that’s the agony and the ecstasy, America, but excuse me if I sound a bitter bit when I say the X ran out long before it got down to my row. Here’s hoping you’re doing the high life, not doing life high, and until next week and maybe even then, I’m Roland McShyster.   |