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Records Indicate Strom Thurmond Died in 1982Republican Senator carries on despite timely demise December 9, 2002 |
Washington, D.C. Junior Bacon News of the Senator's own death reaches him during his 100th birthday celebration 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...
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. the commune news is low in saturated fat but high on diet pills. Lil Duncan is the commune's Washington correspondent, though don't take that to mean that she votes on anything other than the polls at Mademoiselle.com.
| A Nation Bored: America Waits Patiently for Something, Anything to HappenAn apathetic United States endures a time of deep ho-hum December 9, 2002 |
Raleigh, North Carolina Snapper McGee Some Americans are so desperate for distraction they're tuning in to JAG on CBS. 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 real...
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?" the commune news prides itself on making stories out of nothing, being such big Seinfeld fans. Ramrod Hurley is a commune correspondent famous for his pleasant demeanor and cheerful smile when backing down from an argument, unlike the mysterious Ramrod Hurley lookalike who burned down the local Liquor Shack.
| Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
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December 9, 2002 I Am Gathering a Troupe for a Journeythe commune's Red Bagel leads a brave army of one I am sad to say the hour of judgment draws near. I'm not talking about biblical predictions of the end of time, or some poorly-imagined Bruce Willis action movie armageddon. I'm talking about the growing conspiracy, which I have mentioned before, without giving specific details. It's practically here.
As you may know, I have tried gathering a group before through classified ads, hoping to attract mercenaries and those with a death wish to follow me into the danger, with me firmly in the back; but no such luck. I will have to go this mission alone, and take some commune staffers with me. Mostly to carry my things, but I'm not ruling out fighting and taking bullets and what-not.
The problem, as you can imagine, is that the commune is over-run with cowards, dope fi...
º Last Column: Star Wars as You Know it No Longer Exists º more columns
I am sad to say the hour of judgment draws near. I'm not talking about biblical predictions of the end of time, or some poorly-imagined Bruce Willis action movie armageddon. I'm talking about the growing conspiracy, which I have mentioned before, without giving specific details. It's practically here.
As you may know, I have tried gathering a group before through classified ads, hoping to attract mercenaries and those with a death wish to follow me into the danger, with me firmly in the back; but no such luck. I will have to go this mission alone, and take some commune staffers with me. Mostly to carry my things, but I'm not ruling out fighting and taking bullets and what-not.
The problem, as you can imagine, is that the commune is over-run with cowards, dope fiends, and morons. Actually, the dope fiends aren't so bad, but trying to explain to them the importance of the mission takes way more time than I have. In the end, if I can get no one else, maybe I'll tell them we're going to pick up Chinese food and they'll follow me.
The morons are another matter entirely. They make up the bulk of my workforce, which was part of how they came to work for me for practically nothing, but of course that doesn't help with my mission. I'm planning on traveling a great distance and it's possible I'll be pursued—all involved will need great cunning. Most of them can't even say great cunning.
So mostly I'm left with the cowards. I can't find them right now. I know they're there, I can hear them scurrying to hide whenever I enter the room. And they haven't even heard about the deadly mission yet, they're just afraid I'll yell at them for not proofing their stories and columns, etc. Can you imagine the pants-pissing that will happen when I invite them to look death in the eye? No, that won't do. So I'm left with a random assortment of commune employees to choose from.
Lil Duncan? She's neither a coward nor a moron, and the only dope she goes for is Lorenzo Lamas. But she's a woman, and therefore left out. I don't need any women going along just so they can get pregnant or have their periods or complain about how we're not asking for directions. She's out.
Ned Nedmiller? Ned's afraid of nothing, indeed more things are afraid of him, and he's not so much a moron as a babbling oddity. And he's been gathering dust since I stopped publishing his column—he hasn't even stopped writing them yet. I've got a stack of them piling up on my desk and blocking the light from the windows, but I haven't the heart to tell him. Which is why he won't be coming along on this mission.
Ivan Nacutchacokov? See cowards, above.
Omar Bricks. Omar's not stupid, and far from a coward. As for being a dope fiend… well, if I loosen up my definition of dope fiend considerably, he's a prime candidate.
Stu Umbrage? Stu has guts in abundance, and brains in abundance. There's no man in the building I would trust my life with but Stu Umbrage. Still, I don't like him, I don't know, just something about his accent or something. All haughty.
Clarissa Coleman? Weren't you listening when I said the things about women? You're stupid for even bringing her up.
Raoul Dunkin? Yeah, right. There's nothing that ingrate would love more than to get me alone while he's fully armed. Not on your life, or mine.
Griswald Dreck? He's a great candidate, but Griswald's actually proved on a piece of paper with Sharpies that if he leaves the building he ceases to exist. At least that's what he told me when I asked him to cover the court beat one day, and I'm not about to test his vast knowledge.
Ramon Nootles? Not with all those paternity suits still pending. It would cost me more than I could bear parting with.
So as you can see, I'm up a creek in sewer-flavored water with a boat-moving device. I'll have to get this all sorted out, and soon, since imminent death is calling. Wish me luck, readers—or better yet, come with me. Women need not apply. º Last Column: Star Wars as You Know it No Longer Existsº more columns |
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Quote of the Day“'Tis a far, far better thing I do today than I have ever done… in fact, where I'm from, I'm kind of known as an asshole.”
-Cute Little DickensFortune 500 CookieRemember to clean your ears—a friend of ours died from not doing that, no shit. What time is it? Half-past beer-thirty. Always never forget to quit being scared to not ask questions.
Try again later.Top Samuel Berger Excuses for Hiding Documents in Pants1. | Was hoping only hot babes had clearance to read pages. | 2. | In early stages of making a nest for baby starlings. | 3. | Not everybody can afford a snazzy briefcase, Rockefeller. | 4. | Trying to conceive children; needed to keep the boys warm. | 5. | Classify this, motherfucker. | |
| Twenty-two Dead and Children Delighted by SnowstormBY roland mcshyster 12/9/2002 Hello, Young America! Time to saddle up and get on the Entertainment Train one more time, and this time we're going to ride it all the way to Not Wasting Your Money City. I hope you brought plenty of trail mix and travel Yahtzee and stuff, because… have you ever ridden on a train before? Talk about slow. I mean the director's cut of a DOGME film slow. You'd think in this day and age they could kick it in the ass with some rocket boosters or wings or likewise for the trains, but train people are like some weird branch of the Amish or something—totally resistant to change. So you can thank your lucky ass we're not actually getting on a real train and I'm just being colorful in my language. Let's get on to the movies:
In Theaters
Hello, Young America! Time to saddle up and get on the Entertainment Train one more time, and this time we're going to ride it all the way to Not Wasting Your Money City. I hope you brought plenty of trail mix and travel Yahtzee and stuff, because… have you ever ridden on a train before? Talk about slow. I mean the director's cut of a DOGME film slow. You'd think in this day and age they could kick it in the ass with some rocket boosters or wings or likewise for the trains, but train people are like some weird branch of the Amish or something—totally resistant to change. So you can thank your lucky ass we're not actually getting on a real train and I'm just being colorful in my language. Let's get on to the movies:
In Theaters
About Shit
It's long been a growing trend to have trailers for films that tell you jack about what's actually in the movie. We probably should have seen it coming that movie titles would eventually follow suit, as evidenced by Jack Nicholson's latest dance with the devil. The title tells you nothing, of course, and the trailer is just one long shot of Jack standing there, scratching his nuts. Though this is probably an effective tactic for drawing in viewers whose nuts itch, I'm not sure it's going to attract the throngs of teenage girls who make movies successful. The film itself was fine, with Jack walking around and being all old, and it'll probably win him plenty of awards since, after all, he is only like 25 in real life.
Cannibalize That
Turns out the American public just can't get enough of that face-eating crybaby Robert DeNiro. I thought the first movie was a cute idea, having DeNiro running around and gobbling up stockbrokers and whoever, then running to his shrink and crying about how he can't sleep at night and gets all emotional watching cooking shows and all that. But do we really need to go on that ride again? I may still go, just in case there are any surprise Mohawk freak-outs in this one, but if he doesn't eat Billy Crystal at the end I'm definitely going to demand my money back.
The Hot Chick
My first thought upon hearing about this one? If this ends up being about a cute little pig, somebody's gonna get their ass killed. Thankfully for that somebody, they didn't make the Babe mistake twice, but they did pull off something almost as awful by switching out the hot chick from the title for Rob Schneider half-way through the movie, like we weren't going to notice. Call it artsy if you want, but people have been shot for less than that. And I know it's hard to find hot babes who are funny, or comedians who are also hot babes, but when you use a movie title like that you're making a pact with the audience that you break the second you let some washed-up former SNL boob ooze his way onto the screen. If the audience wanted that, they would have paid to see Rob Schneider and Some Tits That Talk, and I didn't hear anybody asking for that at the ticket window.
Maid in Manhattan
Jennifer Lopez was born to wear one of those little French maid outfits, though I hear they had to take some of the poof out of the back end so that she could fit in the elevator. This is yet another installment in the fine tradition of maid-themed pun movies, a lineage that includes Maid to Order, Maid in the U.S.A., the worst TV movie ever The Devil Maid Me Do It!, the Innerspace rip-off Maid Up My Mind, the cross-dressing mafia farce Maid Men, the Korean love story I Was Maid for You, and Kirstie Alley's terribly misguided Maid for TV. This one's about par for the course, and though at first I was pissed to see that J-Lo had made another movie, I quickly realized the upside is that making it probably kept her too busy to burp up any more songs to torture my radio this year. With any luck she'll land a sitcom soon on a channel I don't get.
Star Trek: Eminemisis
Faced with lagging interest in a series that has become increasingly irrelevant in the face of flashier and less embarrassing fantasy films, the producers of Star Trek decided to beam up a hot new commodity as their latest villain: offensively white rapper Eminemineminemi… emin… Slim Shady. Though the results definitely kicked some new life up the ass of this tired franchise, the question remains as to whether the pasty faithful are ready for the film's coarse language, which is enough to make a Klingon blush. The film's theme song alone should be enough to weed out any theatergoers who thought they were going to get some Muppets talking in French: "Eminem steppin' in again/to save the whole goddamned world and give it a spin/I got Gene Roddenberry's head in a pickle jar/rolling around like Tom & Jerry in the trunk of my car/you damn right bitch, you better beam me up/watch me bitch-slap the computer till she shuts the hell up/I don't need no rubber mask to act like some space retard/But my jumpsuit's all scarred because Picard makes my dick hard-Ahh!"
That's all we're going to squeeze out of the turnip this week, folks. In the mean time, I'll be keeping an ear open for more rumors about the all-naked remake of Flashdance that's in the works, and you'll know some time after I know. Unless someone out there has been going through Joe Eszterhas' garbage, in which case you should probably give me the word. Because you know Roland McShyster's one to make it worth your while with a free Entertainment Police tee-shirt and other fabulous shwag. Not that we actually have tee shirts printed up or anything, but I could hook you up with something from my private stash, no problem. Something I don't wear anymore, and chances are I probably wore it some time when I was writing the column or at the movies or something. Right now I'm thinking the Budweiser frogs shirt, It's starting to look like that joke's probably run its course. Though if it ever becomes some kind of kitsch collector's item and you sell it, I want half. |