Archive for February, 2014
Many people remember Albert Einstein as the father of modern zoology, the inventor of the Kangol hat and the guy who posed for all of those Apple ads, but he was so much more. He invented the Theory of Relativity, which outlawed marriage between a brother and sister, and came up with a formula for a diet soft drink so tasty it could not be distinguished from a regular cola. He inspired many great leaders, including fight promoter Don King, who borrowed his trademark hairstyle as homage to the fallen scientist.
Einstein made many speeches. Often, they were in front of audiences, but he was also extremely talented at communicating with animals and once did an hour-long speech on hypothetical calculus to a teary-eyed den of mountain lions on the outskirts of Inner Mongolia. Probably Einstein’s most famous speech is the one he gave to Congress in March of 1937. Communism, fascism and fashion trends like the jaunty mustache were on the march in Europe and China had been broken by a band of willful 6 year-olds who had gained access to the top shelf of the cabinet in the dining room. Einstein saw what the world was becoming and issued this dire warning to the elected representatives of the people of the United States.
“My fellow Americans. Today I come to philosophize with a hammer instead of a Bunsen burner. My mind, weakened and tainted by the impurity of booze and fast women, is still capable of envisioning a way in which our world cane become a better world for our children. And our children’s children. And their children. Along with their great grandchildren. And the children who emerge from the wombs of those children. On and on south of heaven.”
“Where was I? Ah… A man becomes preeminent; he is expected to have enthusiasms. (Pause) Enthusiasms (Longer pause) Enthusiasms. (Really long pause) What are mine? What draws my admiration? What is that which brings me joy? (Pulls out a baseball bat and holds it over his head) Socialism! Godless, freedom killing, spirit destroying, human-bondage creating, wealth redistributing, nation wrecking, mind-erasing socialism. I dream every night of dragging the rich landowners into the street and stomping their faces into hamburger. But all this is not important. Today, I am here to talk about peace.”
“Many people have predicted that World War III would be really bad. Terrible. Awful. I mean, really bad. As a really, extremely smart person, I want to be clear that I too agree that war would cause both death and destruction. Because I am smart, I am able to go into a laboratory and build a portal into the future. I have done this. I have seen things. Bad things. Bats eating the gizzards of children. Children feeding children to other children. And why? War! War, ladies and gentlemen…what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Say it again y’all!” (Members of Congress shout “Good God” in unison)
“As I emerged from the portal, a giant talking eagle perched on my shoulder and whispered into my ear. Eagles are wise birds. They are the only animal in nature besides man that are capable of taking vast fields of energy, converting them into laser form and using them to melt the faces of their rivals. This wise old bird told me something I’ll never forget. Here is what he said…
“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. And I know not what weapons World War IV will be fought with, but chances are after the whole destruction of society bit plays itself out, humans will be able to once again be able to rearm and create shiny new weapons of doom in order to fight World War V.”
“And I know not what weapons World War V will be fought with, but I’m assuming at this point, for World War VI, humans would be advanced enough to create giant clouds of ice that would rain flesh severing hail on all the cities of the people they hate the most. And if World War VI be fought that way, World War VII probably will be fought by cybernetic beings capable of flaying the flesh off of an entire nation with the blink of an eye.”
“And if World War VIII is fought that way, aliens will probably come into the picture for World War IX because earth is the only planet remaining in the universe that has water, an element vital in the creation of alien hover boards and automated Chinese food buffets. And World War X will probably be fought in space by planet-sized computers.”
“This will lead to World Wars XI though XVI, which will use technology that is so advanced my eagle brain and mouth are not capable of articulating what will happen. But, seriously…it will be awful. Not kidding.”
“World War XVII will actually be a period of 1000 years of peace intended to cause great suffering among the billions of people who seem to rejoice at killing billions of other people. Then, the great peace will be broken by World War XVIII, a reenactment of World War VII performed by a group of talented actors in the foothills of North Carolina. It will initially be meant to entertain survivalists and other fans of war, but it will morph into a 10 yearlong brutal, barbaric struggle control of a picture of actor Henry Winkler.”
“World War IXX will be fought from flying cars equipped with Gatling guns. World War XX, The Platinum Anniversary War, will be the war to end all wars because Romans only came up with numbers up to twenty.”
“And this is why I, as probably the smartest person you will ever come in contact, with urge you to stop making other people die. Because even if they are complete idiots, they can still recognize both pain and the absence of being alive. And no one deserves that. Even Germans.”
When I was a kid, there was no better experience than walking around a toy store. The smell of bicycle tire rubber, metal trucks that could be transformed into omnipotent robots, GI-Joe men packaged in plastic tombs waiting to be reborn and liberated in the cause of fun, the locked bulletproof plastic case behind which Atari games were buried in case of looting. Aisles and aisles of endless possibility. Never ending fun at every turn.
Then, I became a man and put away childish things. Toy stores turned from bastions of joy to cheap consumer hells. There is no mystery left in toys for me, only price tags and the endless howling of a barbaric wolf pack of brainwashed children who have long since been figured out by the Skinner Box charlatans that wile away their days mastering the art of monetizing dreams.
Surprisingly, as my body decays from a temple of purity to a temple of doom, I have found there is another place that fills me with this same childish wonder that Toys’R’Us once provided me. That place is the local CVS in the Toco Hills section of Atlanta.
I walk through the sliding electric doors and a chill runs down my spine. I immediately make a beeline for the back of the store where the all the serious remedies are kept. I am transfixed by visions of how much I can fix. Rows upon rows of aspirins, antacids, probiotics, fiber enriched gummy bears, earwax cleaners, toenail clippers, vitamins, tooth care products, skin softeners and everything else you could possibly imagine.
The irritable stomach aisle is my favorite. A regular Disneyland for the dyspeptic. I feel an odd pride to live in a nation that has figured out so many possible ways to deal with heartburn. One of the happiest moments in the last year or so of my life was the day I discovered the new antacid flavor chews. I go through a bottle of 250 on a weekly basis. I have more calcium in me than a medium sized herd of dairy cattle. They look and taste like gigantic Skittles. But Skittles with a deeper purpose. Skittles that can alleviate the endless, lava like pain that exists deep in the smoking pit that is my stomach.
After this, I migrate over to the tooth care section. I find myself taking a particular interest in the different varieties of dental floss that come out with startling regularity. There are people somewhere in an office who spend hours upon hours brainstorming ways to obliterate the plaque that accumulates around the edges of human tooth. A life well spent, in my opinion. They have these toothpicks that have a plastic sharpened tip on one end and a small brush on the other side. I think about them constantly. I own roughly twelve packs of 500 of them, which are scattered throughout my house and car. They give me great solace, even on the darkest of days.
Depending on what nagging pain or irritation is top of mind for me guides the next fifteen minutes. Am I waking up in a cold sweat at 2 AM with the usual round of life drama induced night terrors? The sleep section offers me everything from melatonin to Valerian root to the new Nyquil sleep product (inventively called “Zzzzzz”) that makes me feel like my brain has been danced on by elves wearing soccer cleats.
My eyes are itching and my nose is watering (or something like that). Can I be cured? Certainly! A quick visit down aisle 16 will convince anyone who is paying attention that there are enough allergy medications to dam the mighty Mississippi. The true connoisseur of allergy products understands that these are usually useless and if you want to feel any comfort whatsoever, you have to get the pharmacist to go in the back and get you a batch of those pills with pseudoephedrine in them. Great stuff for allergies, but after about three weeks of the maximum dosage Mother Theresa would start firing rounds off of a Texas bell tower. I’ve been taking the stuff for close to ten years and need very little explanation as to why meth heads often lack teeth.
I find myself experiencing an odd, unexplainable form of jealousy as I walk the perimeter of the store. I still have years before I can experience things like a Sitz bath or know electronically what my glucose level is. I cannot reasonably explain spending 50 bucks on a knee or back brace. My eyeball has not been scarred and, therefore, I am in no need of the varieties of eye patches that are offered. I am denied some of the basic freedoms that people with infirmities worse than mine are allowed to experience. Still, there is so much for me that I never feel this longing for very long.
There is comfort to be found in this odd place. A strange feeling of control over one’s ultimate fate. A feeling of wild empowerment over the forces of decline and despair. Backaches, headaches, joint pain, germy hands, smelly feet, chronic everything…all curable, if only for a few hours. Relief only a transaction away.
After spending the better part of 20 years uttering a completely indecipherable mixture of portuguese, broken English, latin, spanish, urdu, punjabi, swahili, clicking noises and grunts, ska punk band Rancid plans to record their next album “Songs That Kind of Sound Like The Clash” in pure American English.
The band’s “singer”, Tim Armstrong has spent the last six months in an intensive American English language immersion program that will allow him to sing in a way that is moderately coherent to the people of The Greatest People on Earth.
Early on in his career, many music fans believed that Rancid’s enigmatic singer was attempting to gain a distinct sound for the band that allowed them to stand apart from the other 7,000 or so bands who came out around that time and sounded exactly the same. Others were concerned he had accidentally severed his tongue. At first, Armstrong was troubled by these accusations, but later he learned to brush aside many of the criticisms.
He told Rolling Stone magazine in an interview last year this year that “sema cunna sima, heh heh, the new kid is blacajema, sayin’ like a hema slucka jem-inon, heh, Yeah! Sa…YEAH!”
While Rancid’s fame has diminished over the past few years, many fans still fondly remember when they rocketed to fame on the heels over several hit singles including “Ruby Soho”, “Roots Radical” and “Semi-Comma Henem Draaba”.
In 2004, they recorded the critically acclaimed “Ehhh..Guple Dema”, a poignant reflection on Tim Armstrong’s difficult divorce and his lifelong battle with cerebral moosebumps. After that, they all but disappeared from the music scene. Now, they are back and ready to make sense. They parted ways with long time concert translator Michael Stepanac and plan to rely solely on words that can be understood by a good portion of The Hardworking and Pious American Public.
Rancid had faced protests at concerts back in the early 2000s from nativist groups who wanted to deport Armstrong to Iraq for not speaking, as Moral Majority Leader Jerry Falwell referred to it, “The Language of God and Freedom”. Many Americans, particularly in the southeastern portion of The Land Our Savior Has Smiled Upon and Granted Endless Bounty have taken a break from getting worked up about the many satanic spells buried in the Obamacare bill and have become deeply concerned about this new assault upon Our Way of Life.
Lawmakers in Georgia have considered passing legislation that prohibits Armstrong from speaking anywhere in the state. In Texas, many Righteous and Upstanding Citizens of This Great Nation are concerned that the new album will begin in English and then veer off into “one of the many mud languages spoken by the terrorists who live in other countries”.
According to former Texas governor Rick Perry, “This new album is like that Trojan Horse that the Romans used to defeat the Germans in World War The First One. It will pretend to be in American English, but if you play it backwards, it will be no different than their earlier stuff.”
In what may be the most bold and audacious publicity stunt in the history of heavy metal, black metal superstars Watain plan to murder the two living members of the band the Beatles to coincide with the release of their next record “Death’s Dark Darkness Darkens”. However, in tribute to the most famous band in rock and roll history, they also have planned to open the album with a black metal reworking of the Beatles classic “Let It Be”.
Killing both Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney will certainly not be a simple task, especially since the band has announced its intentions in advance. However, according to lead singer and former Mossad assassin Erik Danielsson, getting to Ringo might not be all that difficult. “Honestly, if you look at the guy, he’s about two glasses of wine away from renal failure. He’s in such bad shape, the other day he asked Lemmy if he could borrow his liver.”
That being said, getting to McCartney could be much more difficult. Immediately after plans for his execution by Watain were announced, he moved into an underground bunker guarded by former Secret Service members along with twelve members of the Hell’s Angels motorcycle gang. In spite of the obstacles, Danielsson feels that the band’s high level training in urban combat, guerilla warfare and carjacking will allow them to overpower the guards and “have McCartney’s head on a stick on the roof of our tour bus by July.”
Watain are no strangers to assassinations. Guitarist Pelle Forsberg was a member of Seal Team Six, the group responsible for the murder to noted terrorist and blogger Osama Bin Laden. According to recently released CIA documents, drummer Hakan Jonsson orchestrated several attempts on the life of Cuban leader Fidel Castro, including trying to send him exploding cigars and planning a misguided endeavor where Castro would be trapped in his bedroom and drowned in thousands of tons of frozen yogurt.
Danielsson remains confident in the slaying abilities of Watain. “Look, if we could get to Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, Whitney Houston and the drummer from Hanoi Rocks, what makes you think we can’t put that little twerp McCartney in the ground?”
The high stakes game of recruiting between the top programs in the country for running back Clement “Babalu” Attlee came to an end early this morning when he announced his intent to join heavy metal band Venom. Attlee, the all-time leading rusher in California history, starred for four years at Richard L. Ramirez High School in Monterey Park. The school went 46-0 and won four state championships thanks to the speed and strength of Attlee, the nation’s Number 1 prospect.
Attlee was considered a three star prospect as a junior. However, in spite of his obvious ability, at 6’0 150 pounds, he was considered not physically developed enough to become a high-level college player. However, thanks to daily injections of aloe, B-12, botulism and black tar heroin coupled with a sadistic workout regiment, Attlee grew to 5’6 470 pounds during the summer without losing any of his trademark quickness.
Many experts were surprised at Attlee’s choice of Venom. After all, Venom hasn’t been a national powerhouse since the graduation of two-time Heisman Trophy winner Abbadon. In spite of producing quality performers like Anthony “Antton” Lant, Alastair “Big Al The Demolition Man” Barnes, Steve “War Maniac” White, and Clive “Jesus Christ” Archer, Venom have never been able to live up to the glory days when Mantas, Abbadon and the Red Light Fever defense ruled the gridiron and won five consecutive national championships.
Up until yesterday, it looked like Attlee would sign with either Georgia, Penn State, or Testament. However, he ruled out Georgia and Penn State because of the harsh winter weather and feared having to share snaps with All-American tailback Chuck Billy if he joined Testament. Earlier front-runners Slayer lost traction with Attlee after rumors of recruiting violations during the signing of drummer Dave Lombaro led many football analysts to believe the band might soon be put on NCAA probation.
During his signing day press conference, Attlee put four skulls on the press table (each labeled the name of one of his final four possible selections). He smashed the first three with hammers, then drank yak blood out of the one marked Venom, cueing the press that he had made his choice.
When asked about why he chose Venom, Atlee did not hesitate to name his number one reason. “I wanted to play for Cronos,” said Attlee as he wiped the blood and bone matter off of his face. “He’s been laying down some of the heaviest bass riffs and most guttural vocals since 1979. The guy is a legend. He’s also a good Christian man who spends a lot of his off-season washing the feet of the poor and building churches in war torn Borneo. Most importantly, a few years with Coach Cronos and I feel like I’ll be ready to be the best NFL prospect I could possibly be.”