There is a thirteenth sign of the Zodiac, but it's not what you think...
There's something about looking at a chart and letting it decide who you are and tell you what to do that people naturally like - people are born followers, this is why society works. Breifly, our beloved and sage Zodiac chart was twisted, leading people to make drastic lifestyle changes overnight, including but not limited to reversal of temperament and sexual orientation. And of course, now it's bullshit. A lot has happened in the past two days.
The supposed new sign is called Ophiuchus, which is pronounced Octopotamus. You'd think it'd look like a hippopotamus with the tentacles of an octopus (which, ironically, is what I will eventually render for the logo of this blog), but no, it's a man fighting a snake.
I personally love the idea of a man fighting a snake as the new sign, imagine the potential pickup lines at the local Swingles:
Scenario 1:
Woman asks man: "What's your sign?"
He responds: "A man fighting a snake."
They have sex.
Scenario 2:
Man asks woman: "What's your sign?"
She responds: "A man fighting a snake."
Man runs away, for fear that his penis will be fought.
But no one is focusing on the Ugly Truth, which is that there really is a thirteenth Zodiac sign, and it's called Judas. This means that we're a mere 30 pieces of silver and a kiss away from getting racked up. Betrayed by the stars... yet another sign of the Apocalypse?
Friday, January 14, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Milk and Eggs
Crazed citizens, violence...
Tuesday night was a wholesale frantic rush - I just wanted a spark plug for the snowblower, but I got so much more. I bore witness to no less than fifteen individual beatings, maimings, robberies, acts of larceny and hit and runs. It was a rough night.
The cause of all this general mayhem and martial law was, of course, the prediction of a small bit of weather, which whipped the public in all of the Northeast into a Milk and Eggs Frenzy. Women wrestled on tiled grocery store floors all across the state over the last gallons of long-expired milk, armed criminals coordinated raids on gas stations and stuffed their pockets with loose eggs and fistfuls of wadded slices of enriched white bread.
The whole Milk and Eggs mentality belongs to a Grand Old Mythology of long ago that still perpetuates. This is the same Grand Old Mythology that supports the old neo-mystical notion that LSD would expand consciousness and somehow unlock the answers to All This that have been embedded in the mind all along - which is like saying that the top floor of a building is already there, we just have to build up to it.
Tuesday night was a wholesale frantic rush - I just wanted a spark plug for the snowblower, but I got so much more. I bore witness to no less than fifteen individual beatings, maimings, robberies, acts of larceny and hit and runs. It was a rough night.
The cause of all this general mayhem and martial law was, of course, the prediction of a small bit of weather, which whipped the public in all of the Northeast into a Milk and Eggs Frenzy. Women wrestled on tiled grocery store floors all across the state over the last gallons of long-expired milk, armed criminals coordinated raids on gas stations and stuffed their pockets with loose eggs and fistfuls of wadded slices of enriched white bread.
The whole Milk and Eggs mentality belongs to a Grand Old Mythology of long ago that still perpetuates. This is the same Grand Old Mythology that supports the old neo-mystical notion that LSD would expand consciousness and somehow unlock the answers to All This that have been embedded in the mind all along - which is like saying that the top floor of a building is already there, we just have to build up to it.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Hard Luck in Waterbury
Another weird weekend - on the set of Hard Luck with a Hip Hop guru from Hollis, Queens...
The city of Waterbury is architecturally immune to snow removal, or at least negligent. Cars moved at unnatural angles with no traction to speak of. Pedestrians, overwrought with emotion, unable to identify snowed-over landmarks or read street names threw themselves into oncoming traffic. Bums foraged for warmth, the wind having blown away their newspaper blankets. Nine AM on a Saturday, this city of filth looked strangely clean... quiet.
Inside the Palace Theater, it was another situation altogether. From the street, it looked empty - but walking through the front doors, something was happening. Lights everywhere, casually dressed people behaving professionally. Men in evening wear and out-of-context hats posed for the enormous production camera which shot dramatically up - from the floor. All this against the backdrop of a long-gone style and glory - the Palace. A fitting name for such a place of carved wood and high-gloss marble - a gold tooth in the ghetto.
Later, shots would ring out in a suburban basement, there would be blood everywhere, the hum of a snow blower and the banal bark of a foamed-mouth dog would elicit murderous rage and contemplations of poisoning from even the most mild and stable of us as we sat in the kitchen and tried not to move or talk... But there in the Palace Theater, all was smooth and easy.
The city of Waterbury is architecturally immune to snow removal, or at least negligent. Cars moved at unnatural angles with no traction to speak of. Pedestrians, overwrought with emotion, unable to identify snowed-over landmarks or read street names threw themselves into oncoming traffic. Bums foraged for warmth, the wind having blown away their newspaper blankets. Nine AM on a Saturday, this city of filth looked strangely clean... quiet.
Inside the Palace Theater, it was another situation altogether. From the street, it looked empty - but walking through the front doors, something was happening. Lights everywhere, casually dressed people behaving professionally. Men in evening wear and out-of-context hats posed for the enormous production camera which shot dramatically up - from the floor. All this against the backdrop of a long-gone style and glory - the Palace. A fitting name for such a place of carved wood and high-gloss marble - a gold tooth in the ghetto.
Later, shots would ring out in a suburban basement, there would be blood everywhere, the hum of a snow blower and the banal bark of a foamed-mouth dog would elicit murderous rage and contemplations of poisoning from even the most mild and stable of us as we sat in the kitchen and tried not to move or talk... But there in the Palace Theater, all was smooth and easy.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Best Of WWMD! 2010
It was a crazy and tense year. Many things happened (vague). Initially I was going to do a top 5, but I could barely cut it down to 10... Here's the top ten posts of 2010 so that you may relive the excitement (in descending order of greatness):
10 - Licking Doorhandles - Notes on the repercussions of denied heath care.
9 - I Inadvertently Voted Unicorn - An account of my harrowing attempt to vote in the mid-terms.
8 - Unethical Science - Marketing/science experiment for Wendy's.
7 - How to Karate a Cyclist - Get rid of unwanted bicyclists.
6 - Giving Stuff to People in Person - Exciting new alternative to email.
5 - TSA Sexual Revolution - National Opt Up Day, and other airport hijinx.
4 - Tampax Ipad - The world's most distracting feminine hygiene product.
3 - Advice for My Nephew - A little sage advice for a young man.
2 - Pocket Kanye - The world's first travel sized Kanye West.
1 - So You've Just Been Pulled Over - Just a little key advice to keep your neck out of the noose.
10 - Licking Doorhandles - Notes on the repercussions of denied heath care.
9 - I Inadvertently Voted Unicorn - An account of my harrowing attempt to vote in the mid-terms.
8 - Unethical Science - Marketing/science experiment for Wendy's.
7 - How to Karate a Cyclist - Get rid of unwanted bicyclists.
6 - Giving Stuff to People in Person - Exciting new alternative to email.
5 - TSA Sexual Revolution - National Opt Up Day, and other airport hijinx.
4 - Tampax Ipad - The world's most distracting feminine hygiene product.
3 - Advice for My Nephew - A little sage advice for a young man.
2 - Pocket Kanye - The world's first travel sized Kanye West.
1 - So You've Just Been Pulled Over - Just a little key advice to keep your neck out of the noose.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Everything's Coming Up Milhouse
The world may be ending, but it's never looked so good...
Things may not be as apocalyptic as I had first thought - perhaps this mass avian splat is just a Divine Wind, or some kind of indicator of economic recovery. When I heard that several quality pieces of legislation (911 Health Care, Extended Unemployment, DADT Repeal, etc...) were passed in the Zero Hour of 2010, I suspiciously expected the worst. But maybe good news is just Good News. Next thing you know they'll be handing out 50" plasma TVs to everybody.*
So I'm going to have to revoke yesterday's advice to Go Limp. At the time it was completely accurate and logistically sound. But it is a new day, so to that end heed this revised advice for 2011: Knives Out. It is time to dominate opportunity violently - this will be the year of the Great Windfall. The only way to get yours is to run headlong into the fray, with no fear in your heart, screaming ancient guttural battle cries.
* I've been told mine is in the mail.
Things may not be as apocalyptic as I had first thought - perhaps this mass avian splat is just a Divine Wind, or some kind of indicator of economic recovery. When I heard that several quality pieces of legislation (911 Health Care, Extended Unemployment, DADT Repeal, etc...) were passed in the Zero Hour of 2010, I suspiciously expected the worst. But maybe good news is just Good News. Next thing you know they'll be handing out 50" plasma TVs to everybody.*
So I'm going to have to revoke yesterday's advice to Go Limp. At the time it was completely accurate and logistically sound. But it is a new day, so to that end heed this revised advice for 2011: Knives Out. It is time to dominate opportunity violently - this will be the year of the Great Windfall. The only way to get yours is to run headlong into the fray, with no fear in your heart, screaming ancient guttural battle cries.
* I've been told mine is in the mail.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Sky is Falling
"And behold, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth." - Revelation 5:6
Okay, so 2010 is kaput - but what does 2011 have in store for us? Well, if recent news [1] [2] is any indicator, Boiling Blood Floods and Plagues of Locusts are in order. Is this the End of Days? Was the Mayan Calendar wrong? Is it possible that 5,125 years ago, someone made a slight clerical error that lulled us into thinking that 2012 was the bad egg and we have an Extra Year?
My advice? Go limp. The world is about to grab at you and shake - and any struggling will be construed as Resisting Arrest, and you Will take the fall. Strange days are coming. Captains of industry will beg on their knees after the poor, who will, of course, rise up and form rabblous violent goon squads who's only currency is Grievous Bodily Harm and who therefore cannot be bought.
Sound bad? Not really... sounds like the early 70's corporate espionage to me. Just burn your pay stubs and carry a wooden umbrella... you'll do fine.
Okay, so 2010 is kaput - but what does 2011 have in store for us? Well, if recent news [1] [2] is any indicator, Boiling Blood Floods and Plagues of Locusts are in order. Is this the End of Days? Was the Mayan Calendar wrong? Is it possible that 5,125 years ago, someone made a slight clerical error that lulled us into thinking that 2012 was the bad egg and we have an Extra Year?
My advice? Go limp. The world is about to grab at you and shake - and any struggling will be construed as Resisting Arrest, and you Will take the fall. Strange days are coming. Captains of industry will beg on their knees after the poor, who will, of course, rise up and form rabblous violent goon squads who's only currency is Grievous Bodily Harm and who therefore cannot be bought.
Sound bad? Not really... sounds like the early 70's corporate espionage to me. Just burn your pay stubs and carry a wooden umbrella... you'll do fine.
Monday, January 3, 2011
2011 - Thunderdome
"Me order! Me Master! Me run Bartertown!" - Master, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome
2010 went out with a meager wisp of smoke, and I can't say I'll miss it. Don't get me wrong - it was a strong year in a number of ways, but by the end it was like buying a fifteen dollar ticket to beat your head against a premium cinder block wall. It could have been worse, though. If 2010 went out with a fight, it would've been like getting into the cage with a rabid ferret - mysterious and elusive, the ferret wins every time. Yep, we could be ending this year with a 7 gauge short bevel needle full of rabies serum in the belly.
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