Bush Reveals New Shadow Government

Emergency "super friends" to take power if administration lost

March 4, 2002

Washington, DC

AP/Magazines

In the event of loss of your government, these six are now in charge: George Bush (Top-Left); Billie Jean King (Top-Right); Johnny Carson (Middle-Left); Hank Williams Jr. (Middle-Right); The Hulk (Bottom-Left); Abe Lincoln (Bottom-Right)

ollowing on the heels of Friday's revelation of the Bush plan for a "shadow government" to maintain continuity of power should the administration be incapacitated, the president revealed his six choices for the positions in the shadow government.

"It is important that individuals the nation trusts be available to lead us in the event we in the present administration are somehow incapacitated," said Bush, addressing reporters from an underground bunker somewhere he would not disclose. "I have chosen six individuals that I think will gladly answer the call to lead their country in that horrible, horrible occurrence."

Bush's choices ranged from the unexpected to the ridiculous, according the critics. Should the unthinkable happen and the entire executive branch of government be disabled for any reason, and presumably should Congress lose their acting capacity as well, Bush has handpicked a six-person group to share leadership duties of the country in retaliation and recovery.

The six-person team would consist of George Herbert Walker Bush, the president's father and 41st president of the United States; country recording superstar Hank Williams Jr.; former talk show host and television personality Johnny Carson; tennis great Billie Jean King; fictional comic book character The Hulk; and deceased 16th president Abraham Lincoln.

Many questions remain in the wake of the president's announcement. Among them: Is the shadow government constitutionally allowed? Can the president make arrangements without approval of Congress for such a plan? What is a comic book character doing among the selected appointees? Isn't Lincoln dead? Why Billie Jean King?

"I have not the time nor the resources to answer all these questions," snapped Bush, slapping a reporter from The Washington Post squarely across the face. "I'm the president and I know what's best for everyone. You hear? Everyone!"

According to insiders, Bush presented the list to administration officials on a scribbled piece of notebook paper with several other possible appointees crossed out, like Hugh Hefner and Rupert Murdock. Bush reportedly believes Abraham Lincoln is available for resuscitation at any time and the technology for that is quickly being developed. He also said The Hulk is real and he knows because he used to have a TV show. Administration officials also suspect Billie Jean King was chosen to balance out the male-heavy council, and she was the first woman the president could think of.

"I am happy with the president's choices," said Vice-President Dick Cheney. "I believe the possibility of our administration collapsing overnight, along with Congress and any other potential leaders, is a very real possibility and our president is safeguarding us against that. President Bush is wise and learned and not at all losing his mind."

Cheney made some strange gestures, circling his temple with a finger, and winking at reporters, before the president turned his head, when Cheney suddenly stopped.

the commune news fishes using only real Vargas fishing lures. Vargasâ€”catch a damn fish for once. Lil Duncan is the senior commune correspondent and likes it like that, yeah, baby, just like that.

Georgia Man Makes Killing on Corpses

Zombies the growth industry of the young millenium

March 4, 2002

Noballs, Georgia

Junior Bacon

Entrepreneur Ray Brent Marsh gets product straight from the source

The secret to success," says entrepreneur Ray Brent Marsh, a prominent figure in this small town in Georgia, "is finding a need and filling it. And that's exactly what I've done."

Marsh is up for Georgia State Businessman of the Year, thanks to his aggressive campaign to corner the market on purveyors of the undead and newly-dead. With an inventory that numbers in the hundreds of bodiesâ€”"Hell, I've lost track of how many there are out there myself!" he laughsâ€”Marsh is miles ahead of his nearest competitors.

"Most of the suppliers in the past have been small-time operators, people like John Wayne Gacy, Ted Bundy, Andrea Yates... I've just taken what they've done and turned it into a large-scale distribution network."

Marsh paused to take a deep drag from the large Montecristo he was smoking, then spent a few moments staring at the considerable ash and reflecting on his new-found success. "You'd be surprised how much demand there actually is for my product," he went on to say. "Down in New Orleans, you've got your Marie Laveaux voodoo wannabes, they're always looking for fresh meat, so to speak. And down in Haiti, you've got your Tonton Macoutes. Hell, they can't get enough of my product. I can't ship them out fast enough for that bunch. And then further down, in the smaller islands, there's always a demand for what I've got to sell. Always will be."

"The thing you've got to realize is that it's cost effective for these folks. I mean, all you've got to do is feed these bodies a little of the zombie cucumber, cut the head off a live chicken, do a little chanting and dancing around a fire, and boom, you've got yourself an obedient member of the undead, ready to do your bidding. No worries about coffee breaks or overtime, either. Yes sir, the market starts in the bayou country in New Orleans, and is active all the way down the Caribbean to Venezuela."

Asked about possible plans to expand, Marsh warmed to the subject.

"Oh, hell yeah!" he crowed. "I've been in negotiations with Kathie Lee Gifford for a few weeks now. She's looking for a new, more servile work force. Martha Stewart, too. And because these folks don't care where they're located, we're getting feelers from a lot of major corporations that want to move their operations offshore. They need cheap labor, and we've got the cheapest around."

Marsh then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and delivered his biggest news yet.

"Don't let this get around, but I've also heard from George Romero in the last couple days. Seems he wants to film yet another remake of Night of the Living Dead. He says this time, he wants the living dead to all be low-level employees of a big, high-profile energy company based in Houston."

"I'm gonna be in show business!" Marsh cackled. He then concluded the interview by stubbing out the Cuban cigar he had been smoking, putting a lid on the ashtray and offering it to this reporter as a "decorative urn."

As soon as we get off, the commune would like to buy its readers a Hurricane in a souvenir glass down at the Voodoo Lounge. Stigmata Spent would like hers in a to-go cup, please.

March 18, 2002

Omar Bricks, Meet Omar Bricks

the commune's Omar Bricks has been through the desert on a horse he thinks was named "Firestarter"

º Last Column: Just Say No to Rabid Dogs
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Recently I was navigating the vast, frozen expanse of the Internet in an attempt to find out what exactly Ma Bell knows about yours truly. I'd heard some scary shit from Griswald Dreck about how people online know everything about your life, from how much mustard you like on your pretzels to how many times you've shaved your sack. I've always been a man who protects his privacy, unless there's a free prize involved, so I was curious to find out what exactly the nosy world knows about Omar Bricks.

My first stop was the Internet search engines, which proved fruitless as lunch at Arby's. The only match that even came up was for a building material wholesaler in Texas. To be honest I was a little disappointed, I'd been hoping for maybe a real-time webcam that showed me sitting there at the computer, looking at a real-time webcam that showed me sitting there at the computerâ€¦ and on and on endlessly like that Pink Floyd album or that time in college when I put two mirrors really close together and stuck my head in-between them. But instead, nothing. No credit-card numbers, no lists of my favorite CDs, and no photos of me hang gliding naked in Mexico. I've never actually been hang gliding, but I thought someone might have spliced my face into an awesome photo of some crazy fucker freeballin' it over the desert cliffs in Cancun, you know? I could have gone for that.

After my rich fantasy basically had its underwear yanked up the asscrack, I decided to check out some alternative sources of information. Next came the online white pages. I figured maybe my home address would be up there somewhere with a link to a map and a note about the spare key that's hidden on top of my doormat. Some kind of scary invasion-of-privacy shit like that to really make the search worthwhile, you know? Well fill out that fantasy in your own heads as you so desire, because it turns out I'm not even listed. Apparently as far as the Internet is concerned, Omar Bricks isn't worth stalking or roping into a pyramid scheme. It's like I don't even exist in their eyes, which makes me feel kind of like a time traveler with no identity and it makes me wonder what I could get away with. I could probably paint my name in block capitals on the side of the bank after I walked out with my pants stuffed full of cash, and it wouldn't matter. What are the cops going to do, look me up online? Shit.

A funny thing did come up when I was searching the white pages, though. I wasn't in there, but I'll be goddamned if there wasn't another Omar Bricks listed! No lie! Some lucky bastard living out in Sudsbury, MA. What kind of bizarre mind-bending shit is that? Could we have been separated at birth? Just thinking about how I'd lived my entire life not knowing that there was another Omar Bricks running around kind of creeped me out. What if he was out there wearing a Thompson Twins tee-shirt or something and making me look like a total dink? This was a serious liability, the Omar Bricks street cred was in the hands of some guy who could be into collecting dolls for all I knew.

This needed to be investigated with a quickness, so I sent Omar a post card and before I knew it we had exchanged several letters about what it's like to live the Omar Bricks life. Turns out he was a pretty decent cat, maybe a little too into the quarters from all of the different states, but to be honest I was just happy he wasn't a famous ballet dancer or anything. Before long we made plans to meet in person and I flew out to Massachusetts for the weekend.

And it was a great trip, Omar and I hung loose and had the kind of fun that only two people with the same name can have. We went to the airport and had ourselves paged, then got into a fake karate fight at the ticket desk after a long staged argument about who was the real Omar Bricks. After security escorted us out we went home and Omar had a great idea about calling a radio call-in show. I went out to the phone in the hall and called the same show, and we spent a half an hour arguing for and against abortion with the show's host. The dude almost went out of his ass between the fact that both of his callers had the same name and were calling from the same town, and the fact that they probably don't get a lot of calls about abortion on AutoTalk.

After that we were pretty strapped for ideas until Omar realized we could really raise some hell by trading lives for a month and acting like nothing had happened. I thought it was a great idea, but Omar's girlfriend got all uptight about the whole thing and we had to settle for setting Omar up with double food stamps at the local welfare office. Not quite the grand caper we had envisioned originally, but still pretty handy when you need some baby formula or a rack of lamb or something.

After the weekend was over I had to come home, I think to the relief of Omar's girlfriend. I returned to a world that felt a little smaller and a little less Omar Bricksish. But although there's only one Omar to carry the load in these parts, it gives me peace to know that there's another O.B. out there, somewhere, keeping it Bricks. Not to mention that I started a couple of credit cards in his name while I was out there. Voice-activated deck chairs, here I come! Bricks out.

º Last Column: Just Say No to Rabid Dogs
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Milestones

1987: A practical joke backfires, resulting in Roland McShyster being put in charge of Orion Pictures.

Now Hiring

Neighbor. Must be unpredictably silly and capable of conjuring up outlandish schemes week after week. Applicant will be judged based on appeal to uncreative mass audiences and spin-off potential. Non-white, homosexual a plus.

Best Shakespeare Film Adaptions

1.	Romeo and Julian
2.	Hamlet Strikes Back
3.	A Midsummer Night's Rave
4.	Tougher than Leather
5.	Richard III: Richard Goes to Hell

Russell Crowe Receives Oscar Nod for Role in Ben Gay Commercial

BY roland mcshyster

3/4/2002

Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars!
Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees:

Best Picture

A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-

This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some ti...

Goosefart Park

Those loveable Animal House morons are back, and this time they're stuck at a quaint Country Inn in the small English town of Goosefart Park. A surprise pick for a Best Picture nomination, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a film this year with more beaver jokes. There's a lot of raunchy humour for the whole family, but this isn't a one-sided farce. The film also brings home the important life lesson that England is stupid.

In the Bedroom

It's a bold statement, but this is probably the best film ever based on a Cream song. To be honest, I didn't understand the movie any better than I understood the tune, (psychedelic interior decorating tips? And who buys black curtains these days?) but regardless, this flick is head and heels above Kevin Costner's dismal Aqualung.

The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-

This is the year gay boxing movies stepped into the mainstream, and there is no finer example than The Lords of the Ring. If a picture is worth a thousand words, and this isn't the best picture of the year, then that means there are a thousand finer words out there somewhere, and personally I find that disbelievable. This is one of those rare movies that grabs you by your manhood and sucks you off. Or in. And as the wizened old boxing trainer Gaydar says in the film: "Sometimes you choose gay boxing. And sometimes gay boxing chooses you." I couldn't have put it better, even with 989 more words and a Polaroid.

Mule in Rouge -read EP review-

Another surprise nomination for Best Picture, as the Academy seems to have a soft spot for screwball comedies this year. This time it's a loveable Talking Mule picture that gets the surprise nod and a wink. And I know what you're thinking, that they always nominate the Talking Mule pictures but they never win the big awards. It's like an unwritten rule. But this year things could be different since there's a lot of buzz under this donkey's tail and I hear the Church of Scientology is throwing it's Hollywood weight around to secure the golden flasher for this picture.

Best Director

Don Henley, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-

Leave it to a former Eagle to take this tale of form-fitting mime costumes all the way to the limit. Sure, he could have taken it easy, but that's not Henley's style. Being the new kid in town, director-wise, he had a lot to prove, and I for one am hoping there's no heartache for him on Oscar night. Hopefully his film will leave Academy voters with a peaceful, easy feeling, and provide them with a place to hide their lion eyes.

Ripley Scott, Black Hawk Down -read EP review-

Every film this guy does without having a space lizard or whatever spring out of his chest is a triumph in my book. I'd really be pulling for him to take home the gold this year on that basis alone if it weren't for the fact that his movie had way too much pan flute music in it for my tastes. I mean, I guess it's a depressed-bird kind of instrument, but in my opinion you can take that too far.

Robert Palmer, Goosefart Park

Three years ago it was all about foreign dictators directing films, and last year it was about rock-band movies. This year the natural progression continues and it's pop stars turning into directors, and nobody was more surprised than me to discover that this pedophile-looking limey can direct a frat comedy like nobody's business. Both this film and A Beautiful Mime make me realize how far ahead of his time Terrence Trent D'Arby really was when he directed The Thin Red Line a few years ago, really the grandfather of pop star directors. Sure, the inclusion of Power Station's Some Like it Hot in Palmer's film was a little self-serving, but I have to admit it synched up pretty well with the scene where the morons set the Inn on fire.

Peter, Paul and Mary Jackson, The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-

What's more amazing than pop stars making the successful transition to directing feature films? How about entire bands making the leap? Scoff no more my friends, because it happened while you weren't paying attention. If these 60's folkamuffins can direct the best gay boxing film ever, I can't wait to see Metallica's directorial debut this summer.

David Lynch, Mulholland Drive -read EP review-

Sure, he's crazier than a shithouse weasel, but there's no denying that some people out there enjoy the scrambled brainbatter he yanks out of his rectum every few years. Personally, I liked his films more before he decreed that all film scores should be played by throwing live fish at a piano, but you've got to admire his creative vision.

Best Actor

Russell Crowe, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-

Really rubbing the charm thin after his role in Almost Famous, Crowe serves as a cleavage-blocking impediment to an otherwise arresting film. Back to the Louvre with you, Frenchie.

Sean Penn, I Am Sam -read EP review-

Leave it to a balls-out amazing actor like Penn to garner an Oscar nomination for the smallest of roles. Some may argue that his cameo as the fox in the box was too scant a role to deserve the Oscar nod, but I ask you this: did you ever doubt for a second that that there was really a fox in that box where Knox would not eat the green eggs and ham, would not eat them Sam I Am? I rest my case.

Geoffrey Rush, Lantana

Who?

Mr. Smith, ALI -read EP review-

Talk about taking a boring film and driving it right into the dull, lifeless ground! This is it. The American Law Institute could have salvaged some shred of an audience's attention by casting a big-name star in this plodding logjam of a film, but instead they chose to feature this faceless corporate lawyer in an unbelievably gray suit. I thought for a second this movie might turn into a Pink Floyd video but in the end it turned out that irony was not on the witness list.

Denzel Washington, Training Day -read EP review-

After a long, painful journey, Denzel finally finds his niche in this talking toddler pic. He's never had a finer moment than when he's chasing little Mikey around the apartment while he's got a shitty pair of pull-ups around his ankles (but don't ask me why Denzel was wearing pull-ups in the first place! Zing!). It just goes to show that talent can blossom late, and here Denzel is at his best since To Wong Fuâ€¦

Best Animated Film
In a surprising move by the Academy, the Best Actress category has been replaced this year by a new award for Best Animated Film. I'm sure you can imagine the endless griping that has ensued, but for what? I mean, who doesn't like cartoons?

Jimmy Nimrod: Boy Genius -read EP review-

Hands-down the funniest film of the year, and one of the main reasons you'll be hearing Roland McShyster's tortured screams echoing up from hell once we all hit the afterlife. I stand behind my actions, however, and if seeing an exploitive comedy about a retarded super-spy twelve times in the theater is a damnable offense, then damn the torpedoes and steer this cruise ship towards the Hades water park, my friends.

Mobsters, INC. -read EP review-

A computer-animated classic set in the mobster's paradise of New Jersey. A funny, fascinating, and fuggetaboutit musical for those of us who like our fellas good and our fathers godly. Or something, I don't know. Look for Joe Piscapo in his trademark insane mobster role.

Beatty and the Beast

I had the weird deja-vu feeling that I'd seen this movie before, but with all of the great new stuff they're cranking out, it's not like Disney would just rehash one of their old movies to make a few extra bucks. Anyway, it's great to see Ned Beatty working again, though to be honest sometimes I got confused about who was the Beast.

And that's a wrap! Now's it's time to bask in the afterglow while we await the ceremony itself. When will it be? Nobody knows! But that's half the fun of it. And from me to you, America, I hope it's some kind of wonderful. See you in a month!