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Coke to Introduce New Pepsi-Flavored Coke August 5, 2002 |
New York, NY COURTESY COCA-COLA C Beating them at their own game: Pepsi Coke s Pepsiâs heavily marketed new nasty blue cola starts hitting store shelves this week, Coke is putting the finishing touches on its own new soda: Pepsi Coke. The new cola, subject of heated rumors for months and developed under the code name Cokesi, is a Pepsi-flavored version of its Coca-Cola Classic brand, and will appear in regional markets in August.
The apparent coincidence of the two launches is a familiar trick in the ruthless cola wars, in which the business worldâs two most famous and petty rivals are forever scheming to one-up and stink-finger each other. Pepsi is hoping that its own blind stab in the dark, Pepsi Blue, a berry-flavored cola described as âwhat it would taste like if fruit could scream,â will be the aorta-spurting death blow it has been hoping ...
s Pepsiâs heavily marketed new nasty blue cola starts hitting store shelves this week, Coke is putting the finishing touches on its own new soda: Pepsi Coke. The new cola, subject of heated rumors for months and developed under the code name Cokesi, is a Pepsi-flavored version of its Coca-Cola Classic brand, and will appear in regional markets in August. The apparent coincidence of the two launches is a familiar trick in the ruthless cola wars, in which the business worldâs two most famous and petty rivals are forever scheming to one-up and stink-finger each other. Pepsi is hoping that its own blind stab in the dark, Pepsi Blue, a berry-flavored cola described as âwhat it would taste like if fruit could scream,â will be the aorta-spurting death blow it has been hoping to deal to rival Coke for decades. Naturally, Coke wants its hunk of the spotlight as well, and has little interest in âbeing stomped into asshole powder,â by rival Pepsi, as the industry jargon goes. With the release of new Pepsi Coke, Coca-Cola hopes to hit Pepsi right where it lives, namely in producing Pepsi-flavored sodas for the national market. Cokeâs tactics are not new in the industry. The last time Pepsi tried to re-invent the wheel by making it a different color, Coke responded quicker than the producers of the 1988 comedy Vice Versa. Pepsiâs Crystal Pepsi, a clear cola that tasted like a robot had pissed on a box of Nerds candy, was quickly one-upped in 1992 with Tab Invisible from Coke, a move that confused consumers and sent them back to drinking water. Hoping to not only match Pepsi, but match them twice, Coke is also hedging its bets by releasing its own new berry-flavored blue drink, Fanta Berry, ensuring that Pepsi Blue wonât be lonely during its short slide into pop-culture trivia obscurity. Stan Villanowski, a Coke spokesman and terrific liar, denied that Fanta Berry is being launched in response to Pepsi Blue. âPssssh. Who told you that? What an imagination. Fanta is the No. 1 fruit-flavored soft drink in the world,â he said. âPlus, it comes in those cool cascading dispensers that make it look like Fanta is already being digested. Fanta Berry is a logical extension for the Fanta brand, bringing balance to the Fanta Univerise.â Besides, the drink will also be more of a cobalt blue rather than the âdirty antifreeze blueâ of Pepsiâs new cola, he added. Fanta, sold in over 70 flavors at failing fast-food chains in over 188 countries, was relaunched this spring as a national brand in the U.S. and is sold in four flavors: orange, strawberry, grapple and pineappleberry. Pepsi appears to give less than two shits about the new Coke brand. âIt seems our idea âblueâ them away,â said a Pepsi spokesman, Harvey Pearsons, pausing expectantly for a laugh that never came. If weâre going to have to choke down blue Fanta when the fifteen year-old vegetable behind the counter puts it in our Icee cup on accident, then will we at least have the consolation of seeing how they work in a blue Fantana â a new member of the fruit rock group created for Fantaâs ad campaign? âThere is a Fantana that represents the four major flavors of the Fanta brand,â Mr. Villanowski said. âTheyâre not the only ones on the island of Fantana, however, so it wouldnât surprise me if a berry Fanta eventually joined the Fantanas here in the U.S. for their New Yearâs jam with the Cokeanistas and TABBA,â Villanowski continued, getting a paranoid look in his eye. âIâm buying up all the tickets I can so I can scalp them when the time of the concert grows nigh. Then, with that money I can finally quit this lousy job and move to New Zealand, where the Fantanas would never think to look. And Iâm bringing lots of bottled water.â Mr. Villanowski continued much like this for about three-quarters of an hour, cutting patterns into his tie with a pair of scissors as the commune news gradually inched its way closer and closer to the door. the commune news is available in three languages: English, Shouted English, and Pig Latin. Ramrod Hurley is the communeâs resident expert on cola flavors and can name off every place in the city that sells Mr. Pibb.
| NASA Photographs Infuriate Shut-Ins, Conspiracy GeeksShut-Ins to NASA: "We want the Face!" August 5, 2002 |
Tempe, AZ Courtesy Of Nasa Clear photo of "The Face" underlines need for Martian pooper-scooper law ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.
NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded ...
ew infrared images from NASA's Mars Odyssey orbiter featuring the long-debated formation known as the "Face on Mars" have sent shockwaves through the shut-in and conspiracy geek communities. Anxious and unbathed web surfers who expected the infrared pictures to provide new revelations about the features voiced their disappointment, saying the new images are bullshit because they don't show any kind of recognizable face at all, just a couple of bumps in the dirt.
NASA claims this is because there never was a face, stupid, only a trick of light and shadow fueled by desperate weirdoes who haven't worked in years. Fans of the face contend that it was only the lack of "night-vision" imagery that failed to expose the Sphinxlike visage they have come to know and love. NASA responded with a patronizing smile and a hand gesture indicating "okaaay."
The debate over the Face has simmered for the last twenty-five years, since NASA's Viking orbiters transmitted pictures of the Cydonia region that appeared to show a half-shadowed, helmeted face staring up from the planet's surface like some kind of cross between Kermit the Frog and Han Solo. Since then, additional formations have been identified as the "Alien Conspiracy Pyramid," "the Mounds of Xena" and so forth â and fans of the Face have argued that the formations showed evidence of a vast Martian civilization populated by breathtaking huge-breasted women incapable of resisting the charms of virginal 30 year-old earth men.
In the past five years, sharper imagery from NASA's Mars Global Surveyor orbiter popped a big-ol' hole in that over-inflated fantasy balloon, confirming the mainstream view that the Face and the other formations were nothing more than a whole lot of wind-eroded dirt, much like everything else on Mars. But die-hard fans of the Face refused to give up hope, disregarding the newer photos as hoaxes and propaganda, and confusing everyone in their apartment buildings by going as "The Face" for Halloween.
The new Mars Odyssey images are unique in that they were taken using infrared light, unlike the visible light used for the Viking and Global Surveyor images of Cydonias. This allowed for day or night photography unhindered by shadows. Many fans of the Face, however, took issue with NASA's methodology.
"We got gypped," griped Thomas Reinhold of Jackson, Miss. "They totally lead us to believe they were going to be doing some nighttime infrared imagery, not just daytime. What if the face only comes out at night? Didn't think of that, did you, NASA?"
"He said what?" questioned Tony Rice, a member of the Arizona State University imaging team that worked with NASA on the project. "Jesus. Thanks to AOL, every kind of mook can get on the net now."
The Arizona State imaging research team denied any unique features belonging to the mesas that make up the Face. "What do we have to do, draw you people a map?" Rice questioned. "Oh, wait, that's right. We already did that. Morons."
No stranger to being called morons, the Face fans press on with their hunt for the truth.
"Those white-coated government lackeys over at NASA can conspiratize all they want, but we know the truth," boasted Elmer Noonan of Vine Grove, KY. "We've seen the pictures. The first picture, anyway. All the other ones after that were bullshit. A total governmental cover-up, straight out of the handbook. If it hadn't been for that Libertarian dude working at NASA back in '76, we never would have got to see that original image of the face. I bet those NASA guys have been kicking themselves every day since they released that thing. Ha. Jerks."
"We're putting new stuff out there every day for the public to look at," Rice said while playing with a hole in the bottom of his shoe. "I don't know what their problem is. Oh, right. The conspiracy. I almost forgot. Well, you're going to have to excuse me while I conspire to drive my shitty little Tercel over to Arby's and eat a roast beef sandwich for lunch." the commune news needs a hero: he's got to be strong and he's got to be fast and he's got to know where and how to dispose of an incredibly obese dead body. Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown has been spending a lot more time haunting the commune offices lately, ever since he tired of his gig chasing a buffalo through Kevin Costner's nightmares.
| Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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August 19, 2002 The Cold Dish on Reality TVthe commune's Red Bagel paints a picture of the unreal world The simple truth of my businessâtruth-tellingâis that there's not enough column space and enough interest for me to write more often to tell all the unsettling truths out there. The answer for me is to prioritize what gets told, which means I use my column space for only the most dire of conspiracies and the occasional request for summarizing books for my book club reading for me. Which means some of my revelations are late in comingâlike the truth about reality TV.
I have never liked so-called "reality TV," ever since the farce that was Cops first debuted, but it seemed generally harmless and not worthy of my attention, just a distraction and nothing more. But as I reach a dry spell in my material, it seems necessary now to reveal the truth about that distractio...
º Last Column: Someone Has Ruined Citizen Kane for Me º more columns
The simple truth of my businessâtruth-tellingâis that there's not enough column space and enough interest for me to write more often to tell all the unsettling truths out there. The answer for me is to prioritize what gets told, which means I use my column space for only the most dire of conspiracies and the occasional request for summarizing books for my book club reading for me. Which means some of my revelations are late in comingâlike the truth about reality TV.
I have never liked so-called "reality TV," ever since the farce that was Cops first debuted, but it seemed generally harmless and not worthy of my attention, just a distraction and nothing more. But as I reach a dry spell in my material, it seems necessary now to reveal the truth about that distraction and allow people to start focusing on the horrible truths of real life, like the story behind the snakehead fish and Craig Kilborn.
To cut to the truth quick and early, reality TV is no more real than Everybody Loves Raymond, and only slightly funnier. In fact, shows like Friends hold more truth than a "reality show" like Big Brotherâat least the characters on Friends are based on real friends of the creator (except for Chandler, who could never exist in our world). The Big Brother "contestants" are simply poorly-written cardboard stereotypes that live up to people's expectations so thoroughly they seem real.
Like the "real people" on Cops, every reality show character is portrayed by unknown actors with strong improvisational skills, but poorly-constructed characters. It's amazing they've gotten away with it for this long, given the exceptionally-ridiculous paper-thin characters on talk shows like Ricki Lake and Jerry Springer.
I first became convinced of the truth while watching old repeats of Cops, which air 24-hours on independent local stations almost everywhere in the country. I distinctly saw then-unemployed actors Edward Norton, Eriq LaSalle, and John Travoltaâafter Look Who's Talking and before Pulp Fiction brought him back. In fact, I think I saw every member of the cast of Welcome Back, Kotter somewhere in the episode, even the guy who played Mr. Woodman. It soon dawned on me that reality TV has become a port for actors yet to make it big or weathering a bad storm. Any day now I expect to see actors with troubled careers like Larry Wilcox and Alf turning up as contestants on Survivor.
This use of destitute actors has reached its height with recent shows The Osbournes and The Anna Nicole Show. It turns out Osbournes star Ozzy Osbourne was a former singer of some kind of band, as well as an actor who has appeared in films like The Jerky Boys and Little Nicky. I'm not sure about the rest of his "family," but Osbourne himself is not a real person, just another down-on-his-luck performer. Anna Nicole, whose real name is Anna Nicole Smith, is actually nothing more than a failed actress and former Playboy playmate, again, not a "real" person. I have done so much independent research on her that I knew who she was without having to look further into it.
In all likelihood, reality TV is another fad, like space travel and feeding starving people in Africa. And besides the fact it is trivial and mindless entertainment watching self-obsessed "real people" going about their day-to-day business or competing ruthlessly for unearned money, I have nothing against it. Still, I implore producers of so-called "reality TV" to quit lying to us and presenting something as true when it's notâthat's a job best left to the president. º Last Column: Someone Has Ruined Citizen Kane for Meº more columns |
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Quote of the Day“I am the very model of a modern major general. Perhaps this explains my inability to move my limbs and the pungent smell of airplane glue.”
-Gilgamesh SullivanFortune 500 CookieYou're set loose and Fancy free, since your cat Fancy ran away. The girl checking you out at Safeway is indeed the lead singer of Deee-Lite. If one thing gets your goat, it's goat theftâconsider a goat lock. Lucky Wilburys are Boo, Spike, and Lefty.
Try again later.Top commune New Year's Resolutions1. | Breakfast with Bagel | 2. | Boris. Proper English. 'Nuff Said. | 3. | Convince Ramrod Hurley that picture of Nelson Rockefeller has no religious significance | 4. | One news story with a verified fact in it | 5. | Finally finish off Ivan Nacutchacokov | |
| Nine Minors Trapped in Shaft BY roland mcshyster 8/19/2002 Hey is for horses, America! And since at last count, horses were unable to manipulate computer keyboards with their big, stupid paws, I'm going to go ahead and assume we've got real live people in the house tonight. So I won't be serving up any hay today people, just some hot, steaming vittles of entertainment flavor. Hopefully that sounds just about right up your alley, as the British say. And hopefully that's not some kind of nasty euphemism for sex, though I've got a bad feeling about it since nearly everything the British say is, so the odds aren't in my favor. But enough about the British! When's the last time they made a movie worth seeing? I thought not. Let's get our minds back on the great U.S. of A, and the thing we do best: selling dreams and soda pop. On to the movies!
Hey is for horses, America! And since at last count, horses were unable to manipulate computer keyboards with their big, stupid paws, I'm going to go ahead and assume we've got real live people in the house tonight. So I won't be serving up any hay today people, just some hot, steaming vittles of entertainment flavor. Hopefully that sounds just about right up your alley, as the British say. And hopefully that's not some kind of nasty euphemism for sex, though I've got a bad feeling about it since nearly everything the British say is, so the odds aren't in my favor. But enough about the British! When's the last time they made a movie worth seeing? I thought not. Let's get our minds back on the great U.S. of A, and the thing we do best: selling dreams and soda pop. On to the movies!
In Theaters
Adventures of Pluto Nash
Yet again, Eddie Murphy plays another troubled mathematical genius trapped in the body of a cartoon dog. Yawn. This time around it's on the moon, as if that's supposed to stir up our Malt-o-meal something fierce. Rosie O'Donnell co-stars as the hot young multi-ethnic thang on the lunar block, which goes a long way toward showing how little attention went into making this film. Murphy's obviously still pissed about not landing the Eddie Murphy role in the Men in Black films, but his revenge here is misguided: I highly doubt Will Smith is going to get suckered into sitting still for two hours to watch this turkey.
One Hour Photo
A picture's worth a thousand words, and if you say 'em slow enough it takes about an hour to say all one thousand. At least that's the message I got from Robin Williams' latest philosophical snorer about an annoying birthday party clown who learns the value of family when he kills one with his Suburban. Williams flees the scene of the crime with only a worn photo he pulled from the flaming wreck, a family photo that haunts him and always seems to trigger eerie harpsichord music. As you may have guessed, by the end he's learned the value of laughter, seizing the day, respecting the insane, cross-dressing and eating leafy greens. I might have been more touched if he didn't do that leprechaun voice so much.
Serving Sara
Another great cannibal comedy starring a Friends alumnus, I guess that's one formula that really can't go wrong. Matthew Perry carries in his pocket an innate likeability that makes him a natural to play the American-Psycho-next-door at the heart of this crowd-pleaser. Don't clog up your brain cells worrying about the plot, since the writers sure didn't, just know that it'll be worth your eight bucks when that stuck-up heifer Elizabeth Hurley finally gets hers in the last act. And take it from me, you haven't laughed until you've seen a surprised Perry spit a breast implant across the table at his family's Thanksgiving dinner.
Simone
It's true: great films have been made on far skimpier premises than a producer's drunken bar boast that he can make a star out of an inflatable sex doll. And for a while, this one works, making us laugh at Al Pacino's frantic bumbling attempts to make an A-list movie and recording star out of a polyurethane actress with a BJ mouth. But the comedy turns mean when Pacino's creation turns out to be a huge success, rubbing our noses in the fact that we'll pay good money to see any rubber-boobed bimbo who smells hyped and has been seen dining with Harrison Ford. It may be true, but it's a cheap shot nonetheless.
Undisputed
Look, anyone who can walk on his hands to Kansas wins my respect right away. I don't care if you make crappy movies, or you can't act your way out of an airsickness bag. You're still the man. Keep that in mind when seeing Wesley Snipes' new popcorn-muncher, a prison male-bonding picture in which Snipes spends way too much time cradled up against Ving Rhames' big, manly tit. I mean, it could be worse, you know? You could be at dinner theater.
Well folks, that's the way the shammy shakes, at least this week. Now it's time to get out there and do your patriotic duty to keep those turnstiles turnstiling. It may not always be fun, but where else can you find such a large, captive audience with which to share your fascinating cell-phone conversations? We'll be back next time with cakes, cookies and⌠dare I say movies? Maybe! You'll just have to check back then if you want to find out. |