Tired of losing arguments on the Internet, or worse, with real people? Imagine the setting: you are at a party talking to some people you don't know. The snob just next to you (and the punch bowl) is spouting complete garbage about the sanctity of life, and you want to stand up for the noble cause of reproductive autonomy. There are many ways to tackle this particular topic, and depending on the intelligence level of your opponent, even the least logical of them may suffice. That is not good enough. You want to go into the argument bulletproof: this way, you can win over the rest of the audience immediately (and when we get down to it, the impressions of others is what this is all really about, other than the persistent need to be proven right).
Several things may occur to you, of varying levels of efficiency. First we have ad hominem personal attacks, like “Your girlfriend looks awfully pregnant there, buddy” or “You just say that because you have a dick” or even “You're so ugly that you are lucky you weren't stomped by the doctor as soon as you fell out.” These are usually not a good idea, because they can backfire and make even a terrible opposing argument look legitimate because of your tarnishing of the discourse. If you only mistep once, you can usually safely repair the situation by remaining calm and analytically thorough for the rest of the conversation. If you give off the impression that you know what you are talking about, the opponent will probably feel the urge to back down (unless he is of the same breed, and then you will have to prove that you actually do know what's what).
You might ask him if he supports capital punishment. If he supports it, he will probably tell you that it is hypocritical of “liberals to support abortion and oppose the death penalty!” He has probably repeated this verbatim so many times that any attempt you could make to explain the logical fallacy he is making will be lost on him. If he is bright, however, begin making your case for why you make a distinction between the killing of a human and that of a fetus or embryo. You will want to find out when he believes “life begins,” and if he answers conception, press him as to whether this means the fertilisation of the egg or the implantation of the blastocyst, because this makes a difference of about two weeks. If he answers the former, find out if he believes in the availability of “morning-after” contraception.
Eventually, you will want this to wind down, especially if other people are listening. Moderately in-depth discussions about fetal development can be a major turn-off, especially at a party, but if you are able to wrap it up with some well-worded conclusion (preferably where you manage to implicate your opponent of subscribing to bigotry), all will be well.
I'll give you another example. Our new setting is casual lunch with friends on a Saturday afternoon; you have all been drinking lots of coffee and enjoying the fun atmosphere of each other's company. Then things take an unexpectedly serious turn. One person mentions that she has begun attending her boyfriend's church right next to the giant K-Mart... yes, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. You are squirming in your seat to avoid saying anything derogatory, or perhaps avoid saying anything at all. Another friend chimes in that they would sooner stick their hand up the rectum of a weasel than step inside an institution run by the Mormons. Everyone gasps in shock (except you, who is suppressing the urge to chuckle), and one of the bewildered folks demands an apology, which is seconded by another (known alternatively as the Fun Police). Now the onus is on you to back up your friend, for they are a wounded casualty of the conversation.
The first thing to do is completely back away from the actual statement and dismiss it as a juvenile comment made in jest (or a 'joke'). Then, ignoring all interruptions, and with all of the moral indignance you can muster, argue passionately in the defense of free speech. Finish with a point so strong, poignant and resonating that no one will even bother to mention how you have completely changed the subject.
Here is a good one for the young folks. You are asking your parents for permission to stay at a friend's house on a Friday night. Which friend, they ask. You tell them. “I don't know if I really like him. He always smells like cigarettes and dresses in all black clothing. Are you sure that he is going in the right direction, you know, in life? I'm not sure you should spend a night at his house.”
“Wait, which Gerald are you thinking of? This guy moved here two weeks ago.” If necessary, get dropped off somewhere else before getting to your destination. This routine will only work once, of course, which is why any instinctive young ones out there will know better than to provide their parents with such prying details in the first place. Remember: your parents have no idea what it's like to be a kid, because back when they were kids, things were completely different.
Okay, you are trying to haggle at the supermarket. People around you are looking at you like you are a complete moron and jerk for wasting everyone's time, and if you have brought any relatives along with you for this spectacle, they are dying a thousand deaths in embarrassment, waiting for the long nightmare to finally finish. Everyone has a breaking point, though, and as with arguments, haggling relies on persistence. The two activities are so structurally similar that it is shocking.
“Come on, I only have four dollars. Honestly, I am only six cents short, what's the problem?” … “This is an internationally franchised supermarket. You can't come here and expect to bargain with us.” And then, much as you would someone who is failing to grasp the significance of human impact on climate change, you punch them in the face. And walk out of there having paid only four dollars.
Finally, pick your battles wisely. Everyone has to make sacrifices – you didn't think you were an exception, did you? You walk into a room; there are two circles. In Circle A, the centre of attention appears to be a goofy looking ignoramus who is decrying carbon dating in the hopes of convincing his listeners that the earth has not been in existence for any longer than six-thousand years. Circle X is dominated by the ramblings of a scarily muscular athlete with delusions of grandeur and a strong grudge against the “lesser sex.” (At this point, some principled fools may suggest to tackle both issues, or to take whichever one you have a stronger moral drive to correct. You will hopefully be able, however, to align your morals with whichever battle is more expedient.)
Go to Circle X, but don't go by yourself: bring moral support. Then calmly explain that while all of his theories on the importance of gender roles and masculine dominance being a societal necessity are very interesting, you would appreciate it if he could elaborate on how he would expand on this line of thinking in light of the fact that your best friend died due to complications from sex-change surgery two days prior (and when we say 'surgical complications', we mean 'hate bashing'). Not only have you made him look like a total prick, you've just won the heart of the room. Be careful: though your power has increased, you still need to use it more wisely and with greater discernment than ever.
Also, as soon as someone calls you out on using a pre-planned false story in a social setting, you lose pretty much all of your credibility instantly. Nothing stings quite like possessing the sunken reputation of a socially manipulative asshole. I'd provide some advice on how to rehabilitate yourself after following the inane advice in this article, but it's probably best to call it a day.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
A Parable for These Trying Times
A young man was in search of a tree which would give him knowledge of all of the earth's well-kept secrets.
Though he had been warned by many an experienced voyager who had taken the same path as he, naturally his curiosity got the better of him and so his wisdom took a backseat as he traveled across the world in the vain hope of locating this miraculous plant.
One day, he grew tired from his walking, and sat down in the shade to have a rest. It was then that he finally appreciated the beauty of his surroundings for the first time, and took in everything around him. For it proved to be a meditative moment, as the young man took solace in the simple fact that evidence of the earth's basic good could be found in any situation, in any place, in even the direst of times.
Eventually, the young man became impatient, and resumed his search for the all-knowing tree. His curiosity had again dictated the actions he would take, and it would showcase itself to be a pivotal decision.
After many weeks of tiresome transportation by foot, his shoes began to display unsightly holes in all areas, and the soles of his feet felt sore and swollen. There were big black rings under his eyes, and he smelled vaguely like a rotten corpse. He had reached a cliff, and he had no way to get across the other side, except to jump and hope that somewhere on the other side there would be a ladder up. It was not a wise idea, but his wisdom had long been relegated to only the most ignored thoughts of his mind, and so he jumped and fell onto the ground and died.
The tree on the other side of the cliff, incidentally, was just another oak tree.
Though he had been warned by many an experienced voyager who had taken the same path as he, naturally his curiosity got the better of him and so his wisdom took a backseat as he traveled across the world in the vain hope of locating this miraculous plant.
One day, he grew tired from his walking, and sat down in the shade to have a rest. It was then that he finally appreciated the beauty of his surroundings for the first time, and took in everything around him. For it proved to be a meditative moment, as the young man took solace in the simple fact that evidence of the earth's basic good could be found in any situation, in any place, in even the direst of times.
Eventually, the young man became impatient, and resumed his search for the all-knowing tree. His curiosity had again dictated the actions he would take, and it would showcase itself to be a pivotal decision.
After many weeks of tiresome transportation by foot, his shoes began to display unsightly holes in all areas, and the soles of his feet felt sore and swollen. There were big black rings under his eyes, and he smelled vaguely like a rotten corpse. He had reached a cliff, and he had no way to get across the other side, except to jump and hope that somewhere on the other side there would be a ladder up. It was not a wise idea, but his wisdom had long been relegated to only the most ignored thoughts of his mind, and so he jumped and fell onto the ground and died.
The tree on the other side of the cliff, incidentally, was just another oak tree.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Getting Things Done (m4mw)
The real problem here, you could say, if you were really being frank about it, and I would prefer that you wouldn't be, but regardless, or irregardless (they mean the same thing, not to change the subject), is that I have a motivation disorder (anti-motivational syndrome, to be specific). I can trace it back to when I was fifteen years old. It had been a grueling day at school, full of rigorous testing, and I was feeling quite down about my academic performance and general self-worth.
My parents were very cynical people (and have probably never actually spoken to poor people in their entire lives), and had always told me not to worry so much about my grades, because “there was always welfare” if I turned out to be a dipshit. This line of thinking was a strong influence of mine. (Looking back on it, the tacit implication there seems to be that I don't get to be one of those guys who just lives with their parents their whole lives. Thanks for the support, guys!)
Anyway, I got home from school and began thinking more deeply about the state of things. Such as, if I couldn't pass a freshman high school class, how could I possibly expect to get a good job and eventually support a normal family? I didn't want to be some kind of outcast, you know? That night I decided to watch programs on television which my parents had prohibited me from viewing, like South Park and Jackass. It was one of the best nights of my life. I had never felt so content.
I kept up with the whole school shindig for quite a while after that, dropping out just before senior graduation, much to the annoyance of the old folks, who questioned my judgement. I didn't like being told what to do anymore so I moved out. Crashing at a friend's place for a couple of days led me to an unfortunate epiphany, namely that I had no money, no assets and no source of income at all. I wasn't comfortable getting a job (since I always hated being told what to do by my parents or teachers or whatever), so since then I have been sleeping on the streets, which is almost as bad as it sounds, but you end up with a lot of free shit. People waste food constantly, and I'm certainly not going to be another chump who pays for it.
Every so often I attempt street performance, but I get the nagging feeling that the donations are out of pity rather than inspiration or enjoyment. It is difficult not to eavesdrop, and I certainly can't help but overhear their snarky jabs at my supposed mental illness or haggard appearance. (“This guy is pretty good” is the best I can get.) The whole process usually just makes me feel like shit. I spend most of my other time in the library. On Halloween I rent a tuxedo and hit the up-scale night clubs and dance the evening away, and I don't even have to worry about how I'm getting home. So I guess those are the highlights.
Could I do better for myself? My parents, downers that they were, always told me that I could do better if I just applied myself. The way I see it, I'm not causing anyone any trouble. I am one of the nicest guys you will ever meet, especially if you have a car and/or inheritance. Swing by the Shelbyville Public Library some time and give me a buzz if you are interested...
My parents were very cynical people (and have probably never actually spoken to poor people in their entire lives), and had always told me not to worry so much about my grades, because “there was always welfare” if I turned out to be a dipshit. This line of thinking was a strong influence of mine. (Looking back on it, the tacit implication there seems to be that I don't get to be one of those guys who just lives with their parents their whole lives. Thanks for the support, guys!)
Anyway, I got home from school and began thinking more deeply about the state of things. Such as, if I couldn't pass a freshman high school class, how could I possibly expect to get a good job and eventually support a normal family? I didn't want to be some kind of outcast, you know? That night I decided to watch programs on television which my parents had prohibited me from viewing, like South Park and Jackass. It was one of the best nights of my life. I had never felt so content.
I kept up with the whole school shindig for quite a while after that, dropping out just before senior graduation, much to the annoyance of the old folks, who questioned my judgement. I didn't like being told what to do anymore so I moved out. Crashing at a friend's place for a couple of days led me to an unfortunate epiphany, namely that I had no money, no assets and no source of income at all. I wasn't comfortable getting a job (since I always hated being told what to do by my parents or teachers or whatever), so since then I have been sleeping on the streets, which is almost as bad as it sounds, but you end up with a lot of free shit. People waste food constantly, and I'm certainly not going to be another chump who pays for it.
Every so often I attempt street performance, but I get the nagging feeling that the donations are out of pity rather than inspiration or enjoyment. It is difficult not to eavesdrop, and I certainly can't help but overhear their snarky jabs at my supposed mental illness or haggard appearance. (“This guy is pretty good” is the best I can get.) The whole process usually just makes me feel like shit. I spend most of my other time in the library. On Halloween I rent a tuxedo and hit the up-scale night clubs and dance the evening away, and I don't even have to worry about how I'm getting home. So I guess those are the highlights.
Could I do better for myself? My parents, downers that they were, always told me that I could do better if I just applied myself. The way I see it, I'm not causing anyone any trouble. I am one of the nicest guys you will ever meet, especially if you have a car and/or inheritance. Swing by the Shelbyville Public Library some time and give me a buzz if you are interested...
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Praise Jesus! (An Evangelical's Weekly Advice Column)
Ever since the Jews buried fossils across the earth in 1922 to misguide scientists into a dangerous mindset of evolutionary dogma, the mainstream public has been decreasingly accepting of God’s word as described in the first three chapters of Genesis; namely, that God created Adam and Eve (not Adam and Steve!) and allowed them to have children, spawning humanity as we know it.
This week, as always, I will be answering letters from spiritually confused men and women across the country. I hope to dispel any notion of humanity being naturally “good” by giving all of you a taste of just how sinful, ungrateful, and repulsive our species really is. Without further ado, the first letter we have is from Bobby J. in Indiana.
Dear John:
I am a nineteen-year-old Caucasian male who recently started dating a fellow Caucasian female. We are both devout Christians and we would not even think of giving into heathen lustful desires before the day we are married. However, we were wondering if it is acceptable for us to hold hands. It gets difficult to suppress these urges and I hope you will be able to shed some light on the subject.
Bobby J., Indiana
Thank you for your letter, Bobby. Let me say that without question, yes, holding hands before marriage is undoubtedly immoral and must be avoided at all costs. If you at first give into your urges to hold hands with one another, you will no sooner be fornicating without any regard for the sanctity of the relationship which God has commanded all of His children should respect. There is no question that holding hands leads to sin. The only question is how many days after the marriage it becomes acceptable to do so, and whether you may hold hands when the woman is having her period. These are tricky issues where there is no Christian consensus, and I leave it up to you, the reader, to decide.
Dear John:
I was wondering how you could explain the creationist claim that an eye is “irreducibly complex” and therefore must be designed by God if people with a less-than-perfect eye are clearly better off than those who are blind.
Alan R., New York
Alan, you don’t seem to understand the claim that creation-scientists have made! Perhaps you are deliberately misinterpreting it, or creating a false dichotomy so that you can answer a claim that you feel is easily debunked when it was not the claim put forth by those you are disagreeing with. This is what we in logically experienced circles refer to as a “straw man.” Now, I have one simple question for you. If we evolved from monkeys, why do monkeys still exist? Don’t have an answer for that one, do you?
Dear John:
As musical instruments tend to be used to glorify Satan, I prefer music without instrumentation, as I am sure you do as well. However, while listening to my cherished collection of Gregorian chants, I yearned for a beat to be added to it. Do you think that drums are godly additions to the musical experience? Praying for your guidance on this issue,
Joey F., Arkansas
Joey, this is a good question. I think drums are not appropriate, though, because they attempt to make worship seem more 'lively'. Any praise of God does not need to be made more exciting! Additionally, devil-inspired heavy death metal bands use drums, and I don’t believe they are good role models for the type of music we should enjoy and praise God with. However I can understand your pro-percussion sympathies. We need to remember to keep music focused on glorifying God, and not satisfying the urges of sex-crazed young people who can’t enjoy music without a drum being slammed repeatedly in the name of Satan.
Dear John:
My wife recently proposed the option of withdrawing our children from the local public school and homeschooling them herself after our daughter came home worried about global warming. While I have agreed with this, I am curious how we can undo the damage done by the public schools to our children before it is too late.
Liam N., Montana
Liam, you should isolate your children in separate rooms until they renounce any untrue or immoral things they were indoctrinated into believing by the Satanic school system. It is important to take care of these problems irrespective of the means required. Teenagers who believe in global warming are infinitely more likely to become pregnant, shoot heroin, accept money for sexual relations, contract gonorrhea, participate in human smuggling, vote Democrat, and become victims of incest! If this is a future you wish to steer your children away from, you must take action now. I pray for God's awesome strength and guidance for you in completing these goals.
This week, as always, I will be answering letters from spiritually confused men and women across the country. I hope to dispel any notion of humanity being naturally “good” by giving all of you a taste of just how sinful, ungrateful, and repulsive our species really is. Without further ado, the first letter we have is from Bobby J. in Indiana.
Dear John:
I am a nineteen-year-old Caucasian male who recently started dating a fellow Caucasian female. We are both devout Christians and we would not even think of giving into heathen lustful desires before the day we are married. However, we were wondering if it is acceptable for us to hold hands. It gets difficult to suppress these urges and I hope you will be able to shed some light on the subject.
Bobby J., Indiana
Thank you for your letter, Bobby. Let me say that without question, yes, holding hands before marriage is undoubtedly immoral and must be avoided at all costs. If you at first give into your urges to hold hands with one another, you will no sooner be fornicating without any regard for the sanctity of the relationship which God has commanded all of His children should respect. There is no question that holding hands leads to sin. The only question is how many days after the marriage it becomes acceptable to do so, and whether you may hold hands when the woman is having her period. These are tricky issues where there is no Christian consensus, and I leave it up to you, the reader, to decide.
Dear John:
I was wondering how you could explain the creationist claim that an eye is “irreducibly complex” and therefore must be designed by God if people with a less-than-perfect eye are clearly better off than those who are blind.
Alan R., New York
Alan, you don’t seem to understand the claim that creation-scientists have made! Perhaps you are deliberately misinterpreting it, or creating a false dichotomy so that you can answer a claim that you feel is easily debunked when it was not the claim put forth by those you are disagreeing with. This is what we in logically experienced circles refer to as a “straw man.” Now, I have one simple question for you. If we evolved from monkeys, why do monkeys still exist? Don’t have an answer for that one, do you?
Dear John:
As musical instruments tend to be used to glorify Satan, I prefer music without instrumentation, as I am sure you do as well. However, while listening to my cherished collection of Gregorian chants, I yearned for a beat to be added to it. Do you think that drums are godly additions to the musical experience? Praying for your guidance on this issue,
Joey F., Arkansas
Joey, this is a good question. I think drums are not appropriate, though, because they attempt to make worship seem more 'lively'. Any praise of God does not need to be made more exciting! Additionally, devil-inspired heavy death metal bands use drums, and I don’t believe they are good role models for the type of music we should enjoy and praise God with. However I can understand your pro-percussion sympathies. We need to remember to keep music focused on glorifying God, and not satisfying the urges of sex-crazed young people who can’t enjoy music without a drum being slammed repeatedly in the name of Satan.
Dear John:
My wife recently proposed the option of withdrawing our children from the local public school and homeschooling them herself after our daughter came home worried about global warming. While I have agreed with this, I am curious how we can undo the damage done by the public schools to our children before it is too late.
Liam N., Montana
Liam, you should isolate your children in separate rooms until they renounce any untrue or immoral things they were indoctrinated into believing by the Satanic school system. It is important to take care of these problems irrespective of the means required. Teenagers who believe in global warming are infinitely more likely to become pregnant, shoot heroin, accept money for sexual relations, contract gonorrhea, participate in human smuggling, vote Democrat, and become victims of incest! If this is a future you wish to steer your children away from, you must take action now. I pray for God's awesome strength and guidance for you in completing these goals.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Amazingly Short Stories or a Guide to Extreme Living
Welcome to the first issue of Amazingly Short Stories, the notoriously unknown underground publication which never disappoints in the form of riveting, soul-tickling tales. Today our theme is a “Guide to Extreme Living.” Through the stories of the following three people, we see a dedication to extreme living (ed. note – whatever the fuck that is, anyway) which is uncommon in today’s society. We hope you find these stories useful in shaping your own attitudes toward extreme living.
Nearly Miss Oklahoma
Jenny looked into her bathroom mirror. What she saw both amazed and repulsed her. Though, in all fairness, she was once an attractive woman (as her 4th place showing in the Miss Oklahoma beauty pageant of 1990 taught her), she had really started to let things go. Yet in the mire of her worn and ugly reflection, she could recall a history of independence and rebellion. Once recognised by everyone in her small rural community to be the hottest shit in town, her foray into local socialist politics caused her to experience wholesale ostracisation. After attempting to establish a public bus system, a public library, a public rubbish and recycling collection service, and a generous city welfare program for the poorer inhabitants, she was run out of the town with pitchforks and assault rifles.
“...And don’t ever come back!” yelled Pastor Robbins, who led the pack and aimed a pitchfork at Jenny with his right hand and a bow and arrow with his left. “Your proposals would have bankrupted us into the ground, you big government whore!” another impassioned citizen added. Running frantically for her dear life, Jenny began to question why she had ever bothered trying to alleviate the disparity between the rich and the poor where she had lived. She went on to get a real job in a real city where real socialists lived. Jenny never forgot about how she had been mistreated, though, and once spent five years attempting to develop a bomb to rid her home town of its ignorant yokels.
She has been able to find happiness in two things: the philosophical musings of Karl Marx, and, later on, Heidi Klum’s astounding set of six products (‘In an Instant’) which hide the visible effects of aging on your skin. For only five payments of $49.95 (not including shipping & handling), you too can enjoy the solace that has been afforded to Jenny!
Dealing with Cancerous Lumps (the Heroic Way)
My bumps, my lumps? I have strange bumps and lumps all over my body and I don’t know where they came from. What I do know is that I don’t take shit from anyone, even these mysterious items on my skin. They could be tumors, and I fucking hate cancer. I’m gonna take care of this shit right now.
Necessary items? Scissors, knife, tissues, towel, rubbing alcohol. I take the scissors to my lumps and make an incision, but the scissors are blunt and I require the assistance of the knife. Now there is a great deal of blood gushing from my arm, and it appears that there is a ridiculous amount of cancer just underneath the surface. I am beginning to worry slightly, but I know that this is nothing I can’t deal with.
Next step? Only a weakling would solicit help from a medical professional, so I have to think quickly. Hmm. How do I get rid of disastrous life-threatening cancer, invading every fibre of my being? I create a health beverage: two parts petroleum, two parts toilet water (I go for the bathroom upstairs where the presence of fecal material is more prevalent), one part vanilla syrup. I drink my concoction and wait for several moments. The bleeding has ceased, the lumps are nowhere to be found, and I have an especially bad case of halitosis. I am truly the world’s greatest problem solver.
Four Cookbooks, Three Nostrils and a Wolf
These folks are probably what you would call the radical fringe of the anti-obesity movement. Working for a health advocacy organisation that, for now, will need to remain nameless, has given me access to a lot of strange and unsettling information. I would go into length, but they track my Internet usage at the facility here and I can only be online for brief periods of time each week; violating the curfew comes with dire consequences.
The guy with three nostrils was there. I have never met anyone else, or heard of this anywhere else, but yes, this man had three nostrils. Has, actually. He sleeps across the hall. It is the most aesthetically unpleasing thing I have to look at on a regular basis (and yes, it is really noticeable and you almost can't stop yourself from staring in shock and awe constantly). He also started the fire. The cookbook bonfire, where everyone was wearing trendily skinny jeans and chewing coca leaves while going on about the social evils of major food corporations, was possibly the most pretentious thing I have ever had to do while working in politics.
The other thing is that we have a wolf in the dorms, which has never really been adequately explained. Sometimes I worry that it is to keep the employees, like yours truly, in line (that being said, I have tendencies for paranoia). I have to be honest, the wolf is very intimidating. The wolf howls all the fucking time and I hear it running down the hallway all the time which makes me too nervous to ever leave this goddamn place. Ah; I should not complain so much. It is an interesting job, and by God, is it extreme.
Nearly Miss Oklahoma
Jenny looked into her bathroom mirror. What she saw both amazed and repulsed her. Though, in all fairness, she was once an attractive woman (as her 4th place showing in the Miss Oklahoma beauty pageant of 1990 taught her), she had really started to let things go. Yet in the mire of her worn and ugly reflection, she could recall a history of independence and rebellion. Once recognised by everyone in her small rural community to be the hottest shit in town, her foray into local socialist politics caused her to experience wholesale ostracisation. After attempting to establish a public bus system, a public library, a public rubbish and recycling collection service, and a generous city welfare program for the poorer inhabitants, she was run out of the town with pitchforks and assault rifles.
“...And don’t ever come back!” yelled Pastor Robbins, who led the pack and aimed a pitchfork at Jenny with his right hand and a bow and arrow with his left. “Your proposals would have bankrupted us into the ground, you big government whore!” another impassioned citizen added. Running frantically for her dear life, Jenny began to question why she had ever bothered trying to alleviate the disparity between the rich and the poor where she had lived. She went on to get a real job in a real city where real socialists lived. Jenny never forgot about how she had been mistreated, though, and once spent five years attempting to develop a bomb to rid her home town of its ignorant yokels.
She has been able to find happiness in two things: the philosophical musings of Karl Marx, and, later on, Heidi Klum’s astounding set of six products (‘In an Instant’) which hide the visible effects of aging on your skin. For only five payments of $49.95 (not including shipping & handling), you too can enjoy the solace that has been afforded to Jenny!
Dealing with Cancerous Lumps (the Heroic Way)
My bumps, my lumps? I have strange bumps and lumps all over my body and I don’t know where they came from. What I do know is that I don’t take shit from anyone, even these mysterious items on my skin. They could be tumors, and I fucking hate cancer. I’m gonna take care of this shit right now.
Necessary items? Scissors, knife, tissues, towel, rubbing alcohol. I take the scissors to my lumps and make an incision, but the scissors are blunt and I require the assistance of the knife. Now there is a great deal of blood gushing from my arm, and it appears that there is a ridiculous amount of cancer just underneath the surface. I am beginning to worry slightly, but I know that this is nothing I can’t deal with.
Next step? Only a weakling would solicit help from a medical professional, so I have to think quickly. Hmm. How do I get rid of disastrous life-threatening cancer, invading every fibre of my being? I create a health beverage: two parts petroleum, two parts toilet water (I go for the bathroom upstairs where the presence of fecal material is more prevalent), one part vanilla syrup. I drink my concoction and wait for several moments. The bleeding has ceased, the lumps are nowhere to be found, and I have an especially bad case of halitosis. I am truly the world’s greatest problem solver.
Four Cookbooks, Three Nostrils and a Wolf
These folks are probably what you would call the radical fringe of the anti-obesity movement. Working for a health advocacy organisation that, for now, will need to remain nameless, has given me access to a lot of strange and unsettling information. I would go into length, but they track my Internet usage at the facility here and I can only be online for brief periods of time each week; violating the curfew comes with dire consequences.
The guy with three nostrils was there. I have never met anyone else, or heard of this anywhere else, but yes, this man had three nostrils. Has, actually. He sleeps across the hall. It is the most aesthetically unpleasing thing I have to look at on a regular basis (and yes, it is really noticeable and you almost can't stop yourself from staring in shock and awe constantly). He also started the fire. The cookbook bonfire, where everyone was wearing trendily skinny jeans and chewing coca leaves while going on about the social evils of major food corporations, was possibly the most pretentious thing I have ever had to do while working in politics.
The other thing is that we have a wolf in the dorms, which has never really been adequately explained. Sometimes I worry that it is to keep the employees, like yours truly, in line (that being said, I have tendencies for paranoia). I have to be honest, the wolf is very intimidating. The wolf howls all the fucking time and I hear it running down the hallway all the time which makes me too nervous to ever leave this goddamn place. Ah; I should not complain so much. It is an interesting job, and by God, is it extreme.
Friday, July 2, 2010
An Honest Look at Urban Development
...Because Every Look So Far Has Been Dishonest
Today we will explore five commonly cited goals of urban advocates and suggest some solutions to tackle the issues raised by these goals. In doing so, we hope to avoid ideological pettiness and subjectivity by examining proposals with an open mind and with the stated purpose of advancing the cause of urban areas at the extreme detrimental expense of those who live elsewhere.
AIM ONE: IMPROVING PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION
This highly contentious issue can easily be solved with the universal supply of pogo sticks. This idea is not novel, but it is nonetheless refreshing. The advantages are numerous, including a total lack of negative environmental impact in comparison to practically all other forms of transport. Imagine a busy city intersection where people are riding pogo sticks instead of driving cars. Utopian? Far from it. This proposition could become a blissful reality, and I'm not just saying this because I happen to work in public relations for a corporation which manufactures, among other things, pogo sticks.
AIM TWO: ELIMINATING POVERTY
Brilliant minds have struggled with exactly how to address poverty for as long as it has existed, but there is one simple remedy. Merely print more money! Some may point to moments in history where this particular technique has backfired immensely, often deflating the value of the currency to the point where it becomes worthless. These people have a rudimentary understanding of economics and should be satisfied with their government provided pogo stick.
AIM THREE: CURTAILING THE APPEAL OF SUBURBS
A city is just as much a spiritual entity as it is a physical location, and when a city begins bleeding population to pesky suburbs, its soul suffers. Urban dwellers may leave due to rates of high crime, or perhaps because they want to raise a family in a more isolated environment, or maybe they are just misanthropists with an unconscious desire to gradually become obese and conservative. While these people certainly have rights, mandatory demolition of all suburban and exurban housing should not be out of the question. Anyone who truly hopes for a resurgence in urbanisation must first allow for a total conquering of the opposing forces: the suburbs.
AIM FOUR: LOWERING CRIME
It follows that if the number of things which are illegal is lowered, so will the crime rate. This is why it is imperative that everything be legalised immediately. With a total abolition of laws, crime would cease entirely. Imagine a world without crime: you step out of your apartment, late at night, to judge people walking down your street while you rapidly consume most of a bottle of whiskey. You realise that you are experiencing something you have never quite felt before: no longer must you worry that as you stand out on your street corner drinking like a bum, you suffer the possibility of being the victim of crime! Of course, you could still be attacked by someone walking past, and the police would not be there to do anything about it, but nobody would be keeping a record of it. Relieving, isn't it?
AIM FIVE: DECLARING WAR ON RURAL AREAS
Let's face it: while demolishing suburban housing is a good start, the rural population present a much greater risk to the urbanites. For one thing, they are much more likely to be certifiably insane; perhaps they will shoot you if they see you walking across their lawn, or they might hold you hostage and subject you to religious ceremonies such as exorcism. This is why we will be taking all of the people who have become homeless due to 'AIM THREE' and put them in newly created cities to be placed in every rural area feasibly possible. The cities will be characterless, hastily constructed, and immersed with the influence of conglomerations. So well spread out will these cities be that truly resistent rural persons will be forced to move into caves to escape their otherwise inevitable urbanisation. (Estimated cost of 'AIM FIVE': a deposit of $175 trillion with a full amount to be determined later.)
Today we will explore five commonly cited goals of urban advocates and suggest some solutions to tackle the issues raised by these goals. In doing so, we hope to avoid ideological pettiness and subjectivity by examining proposals with an open mind and with the stated purpose of advancing the cause of urban areas at the extreme detrimental expense of those who live elsewhere.
AIM ONE: IMPROVING PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION
This highly contentious issue can easily be solved with the universal supply of pogo sticks. This idea is not novel, but it is nonetheless refreshing. The advantages are numerous, including a total lack of negative environmental impact in comparison to practically all other forms of transport. Imagine a busy city intersection where people are riding pogo sticks instead of driving cars. Utopian? Far from it. This proposition could become a blissful reality, and I'm not just saying this because I happen to work in public relations for a corporation which manufactures, among other things, pogo sticks.
AIM TWO: ELIMINATING POVERTY
Brilliant minds have struggled with exactly how to address poverty for as long as it has existed, but there is one simple remedy. Merely print more money! Some may point to moments in history where this particular technique has backfired immensely, often deflating the value of the currency to the point where it becomes worthless. These people have a rudimentary understanding of economics and should be satisfied with their government provided pogo stick.
AIM THREE: CURTAILING THE APPEAL OF SUBURBS
A city is just as much a spiritual entity as it is a physical location, and when a city begins bleeding population to pesky suburbs, its soul suffers. Urban dwellers may leave due to rates of high crime, or perhaps because they want to raise a family in a more isolated environment, or maybe they are just misanthropists with an unconscious desire to gradually become obese and conservative. While these people certainly have rights, mandatory demolition of all suburban and exurban housing should not be out of the question. Anyone who truly hopes for a resurgence in urbanisation must first allow for a total conquering of the opposing forces: the suburbs.
AIM FOUR: LOWERING CRIME
It follows that if the number of things which are illegal is lowered, so will the crime rate. This is why it is imperative that everything be legalised immediately. With a total abolition of laws, crime would cease entirely. Imagine a world without crime: you step out of your apartment, late at night, to judge people walking down your street while you rapidly consume most of a bottle of whiskey. You realise that you are experiencing something you have never quite felt before: no longer must you worry that as you stand out on your street corner drinking like a bum, you suffer the possibility of being the victim of crime! Of course, you could still be attacked by someone walking past, and the police would not be there to do anything about it, but nobody would be keeping a record of it. Relieving, isn't it?
AIM FIVE: DECLARING WAR ON RURAL AREAS
Let's face it: while demolishing suburban housing is a good start, the rural population present a much greater risk to the urbanites. For one thing, they are much more likely to be certifiably insane; perhaps they will shoot you if they see you walking across their lawn, or they might hold you hostage and subject you to religious ceremonies such as exorcism. This is why we will be taking all of the people who have become homeless due to 'AIM THREE' and put them in newly created cities to be placed in every rural area feasibly possible. The cities will be characterless, hastily constructed, and immersed with the influence of conglomerations. So well spread out will these cities be that truly resistent rural persons will be forced to move into caves to escape their otherwise inevitable urbanisation. (Estimated cost of 'AIM FIVE': a deposit of $175 trillion with a full amount to be determined later.)
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Student Finds God in High School; Interrupts Class
LOUISVILLE, Ky. – For most people, Tuesday, June 29 this year was just a normal day. Perhaps Roger Williams of Goose Creek, Kentucky, is an exception. While attending a Spanish class at his public high school, he allegedly received a “divine revelation” from the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is a member of the Royal Godhead and serves as God's present spiritual representative, and has made many appearances throughout the United States and some other developing nations. He was last seen in human form at a Bon Jovi performance in 2006 [confirmed by seven people] in a brief but powerful appearance before a select few number of separated concertgoers.
Roger Williams claims that while his class was watching an informative video, the Holy Spirit began writing to him on the blank piece of paper on his desk. Williams did not need to write back; the Holy Spirit could respond to his thoughts. Though Williams tried to signal to others that the Holy Spirit was writing on his desk, none of his classmates could confirm that this was true. One of them, who asked to remain anonymous, suggested that “...probably no one would have paid attention if it was actually happening, because I mean, that's just nuts. I don't even remember him saying anything anyway, but that's just because I always ignore that freak anyway.” Another anonymous classmate offered similar thoughts, eerily using almost identical vernacular.
Williams goes on to explain the lack of support by suggesting that the Holy Spirit had told him this would occur: “The Spirit warned me that only I could see what he was writing. I couldn't stop myself from telling everyone else, screaming about it honestly, and it was foolish. The things He told me were very interesting, though. For example the reason I still look like I'm eleven is a combination of my hair, clothing, and height. I could never figure it out until now.”
Only his Spanish teacher would confirm that Williams had indeed “attempted to interrupt the class, but I really doubt that anyone would have been paying any attention, to be totally honest with you. I mean I would never tell his parents that, but I can see how the kid is pretty easy to neglect.” She presently serves on the powerful Board of Directors for Kuldred Healthcare Incorporated.
His parents have allowed him to stay home for the rest of the week while he can study the Bible for further guidance, possibly in the hopes of having another divine revelation. His mother offered unconditional emotional support to him and claimed that “he would never tell a lie,” while his father told me privately that “I'm going to ship him into an institution as soon as he turns 18, and that's off the record, by the way.”
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