nformed recently that the Age if Irony is now officially dead, singer/songwriter Alanis Morissette held a brief press conference near Times Square today to express her relief. Stung by past criticism regarding her incorrect examples of events that she assumed illustrated irony, Morissette told a small crowd of reporters how grateful she was that her "long nightmare has, like, finally ended."

Reading from a prepared statement, Morissette went on to say, "I am like so totally happy this has happened, you know? I mean, like I'm sorry it took a whole bunch of people being killed for it to come about and all, but still, you know what I mean, right? Because, I mean, like, what if one of the guys that was in the World Trade Center that day had, like, won the lottery the day before? Or what if he was going to win it like the day after that happened, but he couldn't because he, like, died or whatever? Or what if there were like two people in there, and it, like, rained on their wedding day? I mean, like, I think you see my point, right?"

When asked for further clarification, Morissette simply shrugged and said, "Well, you know, I'm just all like, what-ever. I mean like, you know?"

In concluding her remarks, Morissette spent five minutes twirling around in a circle with her hands in the air. She then proceeded to remove all her clothing, and walked the five blocks back to her hotel unescorted.

ecent events of 2001 as well as deteriorating treaties have embroiled the entire world in the disagreements of the countries of India and Pakistan as well as Israel and Palestine. Now, thanks to the negotiations of the United Nations and special arbitrator Vince McMahon, the four countries are going to settle their differences once and for all—on the mat.

Representatives of each country are going to battle head-to-head in a no-holds-barred open match Jan. 19th, dubbed my McMahon as the "WWF International Slam: World Wrestle III."

According to McMahon, details of the match are still being worked out, though the four sides have tentatively agree to a pairing, Israel and India against Pakistan and Palestine. Under the current rules as proposed, the outcome of the match could determine Palestine's acceptance of the state of Israel and their occupation of the West Bank, and foreign objects will not be banned.

Wrestlers so far chosen for the match have included India's Sacred Cow, Pakistan's The Koran Krusher, Palestine's Little Jambi Twister, and from Israel, The Yiddish Nightmare.

"These are some great wrestlers, and some great countries," said McMahon, talking from the lobby of the arena where the proposed superslam would take place. "It's about time they stopped talking and started pinning. Enough of this chosen one hoo-ha. Maybe if Allah or God or whoever wants you to win so bad, he'll make the other man tap out."

Some controversy has arisen over how well the countries will adhere to the agreed outcome, with the promise of no re-matches (unless the Pay-Per-View take triples expectations). Also, there is some debate over The Koran Krusher's friendship with "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, a reported drinking buddy. If things go down hard enough on the mat, will Stone Cold step in?

"I got no interest in politics or religion," said Stone Cold, returning a phone call to the commune. "I attend the church of pain. That's all I care about. But if some lousy trash-talker like the Sacred Cow takes a folding chair to my buddy while he's helping out Little Jambi… well, that's just low-down and I can't abide that."

Democratic Senator Tom Daschle has remarked on his own suspicions that the whole thing is just another Vince McMahon exploitative extravaganza with an eye on making money rather than world peace.

"This whole thing stinks of a way to get Stone Cold into the ring with the Rock. It's just like McMahon to use the pain and suffering of hundreds of years of relations between these nations to stage some showdown. Did you see the last bout with The Yiddish Nightmare? The Rock was pacing back and forth in the stands, just waiting to pop in and throttle Danny Jalalabad. Sounds like some McMahon foreshadowing to me."

"I remember it just like it was yesterday, the summer that my brother Goose and I spent trying to build our own airplane. We had it on good authority that none other than the Great Gildersleeve himself would be making a public appearance in St Louis in a month's time, and we weren't about to consider the option of not being there. We begged mom and dad for weeks, but they failed to realize the importance of this event, or the relative insignificance of the 36-hour drive to St Louis. Perhaps if we'd had Stephanie on our side we could have turned the tides, but she was strictly a Fibber McGee girl and she distanced herself from the negotiations, most likely because she was angling for a new bike for her birthday. So it remained for Goose and I to find our own means of transportation to St Louis, and a homemade airplane sounded as good as any.

Our first prototype was a simple model consisting of an old mattress we found in the garage with a red racing stripe painted up the side. And it may have gotten the job done if it weren't for Goose, who was scared by a bee when we were hoisting it up onto the roof and let go of the mattress-plane early, which slid off the roof and into our neighbor's pool. Similar was the fate of prototype number two, an old garbage can tied to a pogo stick, which slid down the roof while Goose was climbing in and ended up putting a big dent in the hood of Dad's car. Goose caught pure hell for that mishap, and I had to join the 4H Club just to provide an alibi as to where I was that afternoon.

Goose thought we should go with one of his designs for our third prototype, and I humored him although I was doubtful because of Goose's well-documented lack of imagination. Prototype three ended up being a big cardboard box with a picture of an airplane taped to the side, and all I have to say about that is I'm glad Goose broke my fall. He's probably lucky he sprained his ankle as well since Mom was pretty steamed at Goose for cutting up the "A" volume of the family encyclopedias the way he did.

After that mom and dad both forbade us from attempting any more flights to St Louis, and we ended up having to listen to the Great Gildersleeve on the radio instead while Goose was propped up on icepacks. It probably would have been more fun to be there in person, but I imagine then we would have missed the fun that night when we heard that great crash outside and all ran out to find dad in the driveway amidst a mangled pile of homemade airplane parts."

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