epublican Senator Strom Thurmond of South Carolina celebrated his 100th birthday this week, a feat made even more amazing by the fact that he died 20 years ago.

"This striking news is just further evidence of Strom's amazing longevity," opined former Sen. Bob Dole, R-Kan., who himself died after falling down a well in 1996, but came back because he forgot his glasses.

Thurmond, the oldest and whitest senator in history, reached his 100th birthday Thursday surrounded by family, friends, and more zombies than a George Romero film. When asked if they ever expected to see this day after Thurmond's death from a heart attack in 1982, partygoers were philosophical.

"Strom's always pulling shit like that. Hell, he died in my pool last weekend. I thought I was going to have to spend my entire Saturday night at the morgue, but then he got better," explained neighbor Sylvester Coles.

"Sure, dad gave us a scare back in '82, and we even had a funeral, but then one day he just walked in the door, sat down, and started watching cartoons on the TV. Nobody ever really said anything about it or asked him what happened. I mean, how do you bring that up? Ever since then we've just come to accept that dad dies sometimes," said Thurmond's daughter Julie.

Thurmond, who is retiring at the end of this session of Congress because nobody appreciates Polack jokes anymore, served for 48 years, as near as anyone can remember, and goes out the oldest man ever to serve in the Senate and the lifetime record holder for scrambled eggs eaten.

Frail and confined to a wheelchair, Thurmond appeared moved by his hissing bowels and the event held in his honor. "Gaaaaah! Hsssssaaah! Fbbbbbtttsss!" he told the gathering.

Thurmond's career tracked many of the cultural changes that took place in the South he came to represent. He won election to the Senate in 1954, the only write-in candidate ever to capture a Senate seat, after he convinced election officials that he also went by the nicknames "Donald Duck" and "Hugo Fukov." Years later he secured his legacy by originating the "Southurn Manefesto" that urged defiance of the 1954 Supreme Court ruling on school desegregation. In 1957 he spoke for 24 hours on the Senate floor in opposition to civil rights legislation, the longest filibuster in Senate history. Three Senators committed suicide during the speech when Thurmond asked if he'd already told the story about his black friend Danny.

In 1964, Thurmond, then a Democrat, switched to the Republican Party when he realized he was the only Democrat on the "Back to Africa" committee. But once civil rights law became a reality, Thurmond adjusted, learning new jokes about Koreans and the handicapped.

"America outgrew old prejudices. Strom himself came to symbolize a reasoned transformation," Dole said with something like a straight face.

Referring to Thurmond's reputation as a lady's man, Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott dropped a pair of wet dentures down a waitress's cleavage to the delight of onlookers. Thurmond, however, looked terrified when informed that Lott's 89-year-old mother had a crush on him.

The highlight of the night came when Thurmond reenacted his 1982 death by having a massive stroke and slumping into a punch bowl, only to reappear later with his arms full of chocolate bunnies.

"That's dad," shrugged daughter Julie, looking slightly unnerved.

he country as a whole has not been doing anything recently. In fact, leading news analysts propose that the total United States has just been going through the daily grind since, approximately, Thanksgiving weekend.

Though a slate of news stories and pop culture events dominated American consciousness in recent months—including the potential war with Iraq, the November election win for Republicans, the murder spree by serial snipers, movie releases like Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and the new James Bond movie Die Another Day, and exciting episodes of favorite TV programs—the past two weeks has found America completely, utterly bored.

A recent survey on what Americans were doing included answers such as, "Nothing much," "Nothing really," "Nothing," "Just chillin'," "Nada, man," and "Not a damn thing."

Periodic droughts of news are nothing new to the American media, such as months ago when the anniversary of Elvis' death was arbitrarily declared important by major news outlets. However, stagnation in news is usually off-set by major events both personal and public, movie releases, new albums, celebrity deaths, even birthdays and individual bits of good luck such as job promotions or marriages. During this unique time it appears virtually nothing of interest is happening; not only on a national scale, but for everyone.

Mechanic Mike Pinzer of Detroit, Michigan, is hopeful for upcoming events, but admits nothing is on the agenda at present time. "It's not like it's bad or anything. It's not bad. It's not good, either… it's just… enh. Y'know?"

Big news is promised in the immediate future for all, from the possibility of military action in Iraq to the Christmas and New Year holidays. Until then, most Americans are left in a state of blah awaiting better times.

"Next year will be the best yet, I believe," said Hoboken, New Jersey Office Manager Stacey Krendel. "I have a strong feeling I'm getting that promotion I've fought so hard for. My boyfriend and are set to get married in February, and after that we'll start house shopping. But right now… piss on all of it. Even the new episodes of all the TV shows are turds."

"My life is completely miserable," said Kansas City, Missouri Barnes & Noble sales clerk Byron Hymen. "But on the up side, the new Lord of the Rings movie is coming out real soon. And the new Star Trek! If I can avoid suicide just another week or so things will be great!"

Politically, news is ready to bloom as well. With the ever-escalating Iraq situation, the growing possibility that Bob Kerry will announce his bid for presidency, and the Supreme Court ready to hear arguments on affirmative action, late December could be filled with presents for the news media. Yet this week, at least, America will need either patience or booze to get through the malaise.

Joey "Glory Hole" Stucker, a resident of the California penal system, summed up: "I'm up for parole in a month, which is good. And I hear the Supreme Court is going to rule on sodomy soon, which will be fantastic. But right now, it's just the same ol', same ol'. Hey, what is Michael Jackson doing right now?"

Christmas is just around the corner, and that can only mean one thing in the Umbrage household: wait a minute, do I even have a household? Does one guy living in a studio apartment with a picture of a potted plant count these days? Usually it seems implied that there are some kids and/or hamsters involved, but I don't know if that's part of the textbook definition. If I count, then some guy living out of a suitcase down at the Y isn't far off, and that's a pretty half-assed household if you ask me. There should be some kind of minimum standards.

Kids I most definitely do not have, and unless the Spirit of Christmas comes around and kicks my ass over it some day I'm not giving it high odds that will change. Why exactly is it that some starving hobo passing out in your entryway is considered a nuisance, yet a pack of bratty little ingrates dominating your whole life, barfing milk left and right and making you listen to Raffi is looked upon as a blessing? I think we've got our priorities in some kind of uncomfortable Twister position there.

The thing that gets me is the people who pretend that they like kids. Right. Just like I love being stung in the dick by a hornet. Nobody likes kids, not even other kids. Put two of them alone in a room together and you won't get ten minutes into a porno before one of them hits the other in the head with a toybox or the corner of a brick. Forget about not letting them see R-rated movies; the average kid kicks more ass than Steven Seagal. They just don't have the sound effects and guys back-flipping off the Hoover Dam to make it seem impressive.

Face the facts, kids are mean like the Viet Cong. If adults acted like that the whole world would be like Jerry Springer during sweeps week. The show, not the guy. You wouldn't be able to walk out in the rain without someone yelling that you'd peed your pants, and then out of nowhere somebody would pull your shorts down and rub some spaghetti in your hair. Yeah, what a wonderful world indeed. What a freakin' miracle of nature.

I was out on a date with a girl the other night and she told me she had babies, all I can say is thank God that window was open or I might not have gotten out of there in time. I found out from a friend later that I'd misheard her and she actually has rabies, got bit by a flying squirrel or something, so I kind of felt bad about flinging myself out of the restaurant like I did. I might give her a call to go out again some time, maybe in a couple weeks when the pills have had time to make sure she's not going to foam from the mouth on my upholstery or anything like that. She was nice, and it's not like she has kids anymore.

I want to meet the guy who suckered the world into thinking that having kids is a good idea. Probably the same guy who invented the diaper or Pokémon. All I'm saying is that if this guy holds a seminar, consider me there. If I could get just one tenth of that magic to rub off on me, within a week I'd have people paying me money to watch them kick themselves in the face. Granted, I hope I'd eventually come up with a better money-making scheme than that, since I'd probably get tired of flying all over the country to witness face-kickings and people getting blood on me and all that, but it would be a start. And it illustrated my point pretty well, I think.

So yeah, you can keep your "household," if that's what it comes down to. I'll console myself somehow as I recline on my spitup-free couch and sleep in until noon. And I hope you like Candyland, you poor bastards.

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