One of the things I love about Google News is the ability it gives you to see one story through the eyes of several outlets. For example, when a man suffers a ten-year erection from a faulty penile implant and sues the corporation who produced it, clever headlines are bound to follow.

Hard Times Made Easier
Stiff Penalty for Implant Firm
220K for a Hard Life
$400GS Will Help Him Through Hard Times

And my personal favorite:
Implant Fails: What is he Complaining About?

Jorge couldn’t post yesterday because his computer blew up. Cross your fingers that he is able to retrieve all that stuff.

Keep on, Jorge!

Italy’s most famous porn star Cicciolina has offered herself to Osama Bin Laden.

The 55-year-old actress said it was about time somebody tackled the terrorist and claimed she could be just the woman for the job.

Speaking at an erotic fair in Bucharest, Romania, Cicciolina said: “It is time someone did something about Bin Laden, and I am ready to do it.

“I am ready to make a deal, he can have me in exchange for an end to his tyranny. My breasts have only ever helped people while Bin Laden has killed thousands of innocent victims.”

The blonde porn star, whose real name is Anna Ilona Staller, pointed out that Bin Laden could learn from Saddam Hussein’s mistakes.

In the 1990s she offered herself to Saddam Hussein if he gave up dictatorship of Iraq, and added that if he had taken up her offer “who knows what might have happened.”

thanks, ananova!

“We are healthy only to the
extent that
our ideas are
humane”

-Kilgore Trout

I have been reading Breakfast of Champions, one of the many books on my life list that I should of read in high school, but was probably banned within the South Carolina public school system. I have been on a Vonnegut kick lately, since I saw Bluebeard on a friend’s shelf a few weeks ago. I read http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slaughterhouse_5 and God Bless You Mr. Rosewater years ago and when I began reading Bluebeard, it was like visiting with an old friend.

There’s a familiarity in Vonnegut’s writing like you’re being told a story by your eccentric grandfather who is trying to teach you the meaning of life, make you smile, and freak you out a little at the same time. He’s the grandfather who says, “Don’t tell your mother about this one…” and lets you in on a creepy little fact about his life. He comes across as a man who has seen a lot of horrible stuff, absorbed it, and maintained his innocence at the same time.

Well, within these great stories are other great stories, little tangents slipped in (in my opinion) to let you in on the complex inner-workings of Vonnegut’s mind. He gives Kilgore Trout credit for writing these and every time a different one is presented, I find my mind begging for more!
What I’ve realized while reading is that these little asides are set up much like a blog and it’s links. They are put there to emphasize a point, or create a little comic relief. What it comes down to, is that Vonnegut’s style is essentially a blog in a book! Cheers to the 1st true blogger, K. V.

Here are a few of my favorites, in no particular order. Enjoy!

How You Doin’?

Trout wrote a novel one time which he called How You Doin’? and it was about national averages for this and that. And advertising agency on another planet had a successful campaign for the local equivalent of Earthling peanut butter. The eye-catching part of each ad was the statement of some sort of average–the average number of children, the average size of the male sex organ on that particular planet–which was two inches long, with an inside diameter of three inches and an outside diameter of four and a quarter inches–and so on. The ads invited the readers to discover whether they were superior or inferior to the majority, in this respect or that one–whatever the respect was for that particular ad.
The ad went on to say that superior and inferior people alike ate such and such brand of peanut butter. Except that it wasn’t really peanut butter on that planet. It was Shazzbutter.
And so on.
And the peanut butter-eaters on Earth were preparing to conquer the shazzbutter-eaters on the planet in the book by Kilgore Trout. By this time, the Earthlings hadn’t just demolished West Virginia and Southeast Asia. They had demolished everything. So they were ready to go pioneering again.
They studied the shazzbutter-eaters by means of electronic snooping, and determined that they were too numerous and proud and resourceful ever to allow themselves to be pioneered.
So the Earthlings infiltrated the ad agency which had the shazzbutter account, and they buggered the statistics in the ads. They made the average for everything so high that everybody on the planet felt inferior to the majority in every respect.
And then the Earthling armored space ships came in and discovered the planet. Only token resistance was offered here and there, because the natives felt so below average. And then the pioneering began.

Untitled - (Dirty Movies)

It was about an Earthling astronaut who arrived on a planet where all the animal and plant life had been killed by pollution, except for humanoids. The humanoids ate food made from petroleum and coal.
They gave a feast for the astronaut, whose name was Don. The food was terrible. The big topic of conversation was censorship. The cities were blighted with motion picture theaters which showed nothing but dirty movies. The humanoids wished they could put them out of business somehow, but without interfering with free speech.
They asked Don if dirty movies were a problem on Earth, too, and Don said, “Yes.” They asked him if the movies were really dirty, and Don replied, “As dirty as movies could get.”
This was a challenge to the humanoids, who were sure their dirty movies could beat anything on Earth. So everybody piled into air-cushion vehicles, and they floated to a dirty movie house downtown.
It was intermission time when they got there, so Don had some time to think about what could possibly be dirtier than what he had already seen on Earth. He became sexually excited even before the house lights went down. The women in his party were all twittery and squirmy.
So the theater went dark and the curtains opened. At first there wasn’t any picture. There were slurps and moans from loudspeakers. Then the picture itself appeared. It was a high quality film of a male humanoid eating what looked like a pear. The camera zoomed in on his lips and tongue and teeth, which glistened with saliva. He took his time about eating the pear. When the last of it had disappeared into his slurpy mouth, the camera focused on his Adam’s apple. His Adam’s apple bobbed obscenely. He belched contentedly, and then these words appeared on the screen, but in the language of the Planet:
THE END
It was all faked, of course. There weren’t any pears anymore. And the eating of a pear wasn’t the main event of the evening anyway. It was a short subject, which gave the members of the audience time to settle down.
Then the main feature began. It was about a male and a female and their two children, and their dog and their cat. They ate steadily for an hour and a half–soup, meat, biscuits, butter, vegetables, mashed potatoes and gravy, fruit, candy, cake, pie. The camera rarely strayed more than a foot from their glistening lips and their bobbing Adam’s apples. And then the father put the cat and the dog on the table, so they could take part in the orgy, too.
After a while, the actors couldn’t eat any more. They were so stuffed that they were goggle-eyed. They could hardly move. They said they didn’t think they could eat again for a week, and so on. They cleared the table slowly. They went waddling out into the kitchen, and they dumped about thirty pounds of leftovers into a garbage can.
The audience went wild.
When Don and his friends left the theater, they were accosted by humanoid whores, who offered them eggs and oranges and milk and butter and peanuts and so on. The whores couldn’t actually deliver these goodies, of course.
The humanoids told Don that if he went home with a whore, she would cook him a meal of petroleum and coal products at fancy prices.
And then, while he ate them, she would talk dirty about how fresh and full of natural juices the food was, even though the food was fake.

The Dancing Fool

A flying saucer creature named Zog arrived on Earth to explain how wars could be prevented and how cancer could be cured. He brought the information from Margo, a planet where the natives conversed by means of farts and tap dancing.
Zog landed at night in Connectitut. He had no sooner touched down than he saw a house on fire. He rushed into the house, farting and tap dancing, warning the people about the terrible danger they were in. The head of the house brained Zog with a golf club.

The Big Board

. . . It was about an Earthling man and woman who were kidnapped by extra-terrestrials. They were put on display in a zoo on a planet called Zircon-212.
These fictitious people in the zoo had a big board supposedly showing stock market quotations and comodity prices along one wall of their habitat, and a news ticker, and a telephone that was supposedly connected to a brokerage on Earth. The creatures on Zircon-212 told their captives that they had invested a million dollars for them back on Earth, and that it was up to the captives to manage it so that they would be fabulously wealthy when they were returned to Earth.
The telephone and the big board and the ticker were all fakes, of course. They were simply stimulants to make the Earthlings perform vividly for the crowds at the zoo–to make them jump up and down and cheer, or gloat, or sulk, or tear their hair, to be scared shitless or to feel as contented as babies in their mothers’ arms.
The Earthlings did very well on paper. That was part of the rigging, of course. And religion got mixed up in it, too. The news ticker reminded them that the President of the United States had declared National Prayer Week, and that everybody should pray. The Earthlings had had a bad week on the market before that. They had lost a small fortune in olive oil futures. So they gave praying a whirl.
It worked. Olive oil went up.

Maniacs in the Fourth Dimension

The book was called Maniacs in the Fourth Dimension, by Kilgore Trout. It was about people, whose mental diseases couldn’t be treated because the causes of the diseases were all in the fourth dimension, and three-dimensional Earthling doctors couldn’t see those causes at all, or even imagine them.

The Era of Hopeful Monsters

It was about a planet where the humanoids ignored their most serious survival problems until the last possible moment. And then, with all the forests being killed and all the lakes being poisoned by acid rain, and all the groundwater made unpotable by industrial wastes and so on, the humanoids found themselves the parents of children with wings or antlers or fins, with a hundred eyes, with no eyes, with huge brains, with no brains, and on and on. These were Nature’s experiments with creatures which might, as a matter of luck, be better planetary citizens than the humanoids. Most died, or had to be shot, or whatever, but a few were really quite promising, and they intermarried and had young like themselves.

The Gospel from Outer Space

It was The Gospel from Outer Space, by Kilgore Trout. It was about a visitor from outer space, shaped very much like a Tralfamadorian, by the way. The visitor from outer space made a serious study of Christianity, to learn, if he could, why Christians found it so easy to be cruel. He concluded that at least part of the trouble was slipshod storytelling in the New Testament. He supposed that the intent of the Gospels was to teach people, among other things, to be merciful, even to the lowest of the low.
But the Gospels actually taught this:
Before you kill somebody, make absolutely sure he isn’t well connected. So it goes.
The flaw in the Christ stories, said the visitor from outer space, was that Christ, who didn’t look like much, was actually the Son of the Most Powerful Being of the Universe. Readers understood that, so, when they came to the crucifixion, they naturally thought, and Rosewater read out loud again:
Oh, boy — they sure picked the wrong guy to lynch that time!
And then that thought had a brother: “There are right people to lynch.” Who? People not well connected. So it goes.
The visitor from outer space made a gift to Earth of a new Gospel. In it, Jesus really was a nobody, and a pain in the neck to a lot of people with better connections than he had. He still got to say all the lovely and puzzling things he said in the other Gospels.
So the people amused themselves one day by nailing him to a cross and planting the cross in the ground. There couldn’t possibly be any repercussions, the lynchers thought. The reader would have to think that, too, since the new Gospel hammered home again and again what a nobody Jesus was.
And then, just before the nobody died, the heavens opened up, and there was thunder and lightning. The voice of God came crashing down. He told the people that he was adopting the bum as his son, giving him the full powers and privileges of The Son of the Creator of the Universe throughout all eternity. God said this: From this moment on, He will punish horribly anybody who torments a bum who has no connections!

Who cares about greenhouse gases when we can have space shades?

And when we can simply mimic a major volcanic eruption (which cools the earth with all the junk in the air) by releasing sulphur?

WE MAY HAVE GONE PAST THE TIPPING POINT, but there’s still time to save our lives!

NEW YORK—Millions of eyewitnesses watched in stunned horror Tuesday as light emptied from the sky, plunging the U.S. and neighboring countries into darkness. As the hours progressed, conditions only worsened.

At approximately 4:20 p.m. EST, the sun began to lower from its position in the sky in a westward trajectory, eventually disappearing below the horizon. Reports of this global emergency continued to file in from across the continent until 5:46 p.m. PST, when the entire North American mainland was officially declared dark.

As the phenomenon hit New York, millions of motorists were forced to use their headlights to navigate through the blackness. Highways flooded with commuters who had left work to hurry home to their families. Traffic was bottlenecked for more than two hours in many major metropolitan areas.

Don Knotts has passed away. May he rest in peace.

Cheesey it may seem, but I spent many great moments with my father watching Andy and Barney on WOLO or WTBS. Now I’m up North and, alas, I don’t have cable. Thus, no Andy. No Barney. No madcap laughter.

[post has been censored]

There have been a lot of crappy movies gracing our theaters lately. Big budgets and crafty hype have slapped out McDonalds-style flicks that do nothing to the moviegoer, except maybe a mild headache from the MTV jerky camera and lightning scene sequences that are nothing more than a desperate attempt to keep the viewer from realizing how crappy the plots and acting really are. Whew!
I enjoy going to a theater and looking at the expressions old people make when they are zapped with pop camera angles and impossible stunts. Some are desensitized to it by now (because all they do is watch TV), but then there are those with less faculties who catch only a percentage of what is actually fluttering in front of them. Those are the ones to watch! It reminds me of that scene in A Clockwork Orange where the ministry is attempting to cleanse Alex’s nihilistic habits. They clip open his eyelids so he cannot refuse to watch the horror in front of him. Yeah, I can’t put eyedrops in my eyes because of this traumatic scene.

I degress. So as my entree for the week, I shall introduce a handfull of upcoming films that seem worth the dollar they will cost at the dollar theater in H-ville. (which just opened by the way) Enjoy!

The Devil and Daniel Johnston

Hoot

Thank You for Smoking

Apocalypto

End of the Spear

And a last one for Jorge

These have been around awhile, but always worth a laugh.

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My favorite:

And while we’re breaking in a new category, why not revisit one of my favorite pieces of internet humor of all time, an interview with Jeeves.