Category Archives: Most Liked Posts
Scientologists have offered to invade North Korea and turn Kim Jong-Un’s focus from bombing America toward bombing the Pyrenees, where Xenu is said to reside. Says reporter Ryback Solomon, “In exchange for the President Obama’s rolodex and an executive order permitting legal entrance to any residence in the United States for one year by David Miscavige, the Church of Scientology has promised to turn the beloved leader from his current obsession to a more important one…that of destroying certain entities spared from the volcano bombs reported by L. Ron Hubbard seventy-five million years ago.” Apparently, the CIA’s hiring of Dennis Rodman to turn Kim onto the cult of basketball has failed, since Rodman is now working for The Donald. And with so many golf courses being maintained for Pentagon generals, the U.S. military machine can’t afford many more of its own cult-like military maneuvers within binocular range of the Mad Man/Boy. The attack will be cyber at first, as a promotion for Dianetics, followed by a leaflet drop via stealth bomber. NEN has obtained one of the proposed leaflets, displayed below. The church hopes that linking Xenu with Kim will, if nothing else, kill the story of Xenu once and for all so that Scientologists can get back to raising money. “They know a lot about psychiatry, and so are experts at this,” says Solomon, adding, “we should give them a chance, since all the news media are reporting that military ‘intelligence’ has no idea what to do.”
Combine a comic with a cook and what do you get? Nadia Giosia, also known as Nadia G, a 30ish Montreal-born dynamo with an Italian heritage. Her show “Bitchin’ Kitchen” began on the web before moving to the Cooking Channel and Food Network Canada (and the UK.) We call her the Shakira of Food Porn, and hereby award her the world’s first GOLDEN PARACHUTE AWARD. One of Nadia’s quotes is “Both optimists and pessimists contribute to society. The optimist invents the airplane and the pessimist the parachute.” So why a golden parachute? Typically, the phrase invokes images of a CEO with a cigar, looking to jump out the window while his employees burn. Here what I mean relates to the new book THE END OF BIG. The author talks about big business going belly up when the price of gas reaches $14 a gallon in 25 years. What will save America are individuals, working together, to supply their communities with independently crafted products, and that extends to include food, energy, transportation, clothing, etc. So even if TV stations fail, as newspapers are currently doing, there will always be a place for original, imaginative talent. People who entertain while providing a service or product. People who think outside the box (or bun.) And so, we salute you, Nadia. You’re a fearless survivor. You didn’t let anything stop you. And underneath all that makeup, you have a heart, too. In short, you’re no bitch. You’re bitchin’!
More quotes from Nadia:
“Defeat the fear of death, and welcome the death of fear.”
“Great things are accomplished by talented people who believe they will accomplish them.”
“I have no trouble with my enemies. It’s my friends who keep me walking the floor at night.”
“Companies which get misled by their own success are sure to be blind sided.”
“Often in television, particularly in lifestyle entertainment, they really try and box you in. Julia Child wasn’t afraid to have fun. America was ready for something other than a vanilla cooking show, and we were providing the double dark chocolate fudge.”
“You can be smart and still look hot. You can be a punk rocker yet have a refined vocabulary. It’s all about this mashup that makes us who we are, and I think that’s a beautiful thing.”
“First and foremost, you’ve got to make yourself happy. Essentially being who you are is most important. When you’re after truth, happiness always comes.”
Time out. Apparently no one liked my last post about zombies coming to your neighborhood, so I’ve taken it down. I’m tired of zombies anyway. Particularly those in Washington. Can zombies swim? Apparently not. The CEO of Carnival Cruise Lines was a no-show during his company’s accidents and failures at sea, which cost the taxpayer over a million on occasion via military towing (by the Coast Guard or the Navy.) That’s right, Carnival didn’t have to pay for the towing, nor do they pay much at all in taxes either, since they are registered in Panama. (How much in taxes do they pay? Just over one-half of ONE percent, or .6 %.) Other major corporations unrelated to cruising pay less taxes now than in the past as well. The average is 9%, while a decade ago it was 20%. Corporate salaries and bonuses are way up over past decades, while revenues to the government down. And of course they want to be bailed out when anything goes wrong, too. By you. The kicker? Corporate CEOs are amassing fortunes in offshore accounts, sheltered from the laws affecting your pocketbook. Not only this, but many Americans (Republicans especially) have given up on any sense of justice or right-and-wrong, and would love to be able to join the zombie money games. True, there is fraud in entitlements, but my question here is this: should we admire CEO Micky Arison, who, when his Concordia capsized in Italy, or when his “Triumph” was stranded and towed, was courtside at a Miami Heat basketball game (a team WHICH HE OWNS)? He’s the richest man in Florida, using a taxpayer funded stadium, and doesn’t see any of this as wrong, much less “a crisis.” Like Paterno, he’s legally innocent (thanks to a corrupt Congress.) But is he also an American hero? Should a solid gold statue be erected in his honor? And should we pay for that statue? Just asking, because that is exactly what we are doing. The super rich are more popular and doing better now than at any time in American history, but most people don’t care…”more power to them”…what is more important is what Lebron James and others are doing on the court. Or as the sports editor of Tucson Weekly said in a recent column, “nothing else matters but sports.” Oh really? You haven’t gotten your tax bill yet, Brian. I don’t mean the deferred one you’ve seen so far, I mean the one coming for you and your grandkids. War is a sport, too. We’ve been playing those games big time in the last decade as well, filling the record books with even more meaningless scores in the red. …Hey, maybe Brian should join another Brian (Warner) from CelebrityNetWorth.com and go to Afghanistan to count body bags instead of going ga-ga over people like Arison (Kim Kardashian only being worth a measly forty million.) Just a sugges— Oh, wait… Gees, I forgot! There’s a game on, isn’t there? Nevermind.
Bonus screenplay (set on a cruise ship) is included in my new book, click on link to right (or on “About.”)
Have you noticed how short our conversations in person have become lately? Unlike the Europeans, who sit in cafes and talk for hours, we generally say nothing at all to each other except “hi” and “bye.” Variations of this are “How are you?” and “Have a nice day.” Same thing. Without a cell phone, we generally don’t care about the answer, so this longer version of “hello” only elicits the response “Fine, and you?”
If we’re all so fine and dandy, why do we tailgate each other like we’re late for the Second Coming, buy more guns than Afghan warlords, and then barricade ourselves behind security systems as though our neighbors were all sociopathic serial killers? Something is wrong with this picture we’re developing at the corner drug store photo-processing center, (next to McDonalds and across from Starbucks). Here we live in tract homes and apartments once built to cookie-cutter specifications by fly-by-night low-bid builders employing subcontractors who moved among us like hookers at a truckers convention. Everyone hoped to make a killing and move on before the bubble burst. Now you’re not even a human, anymore, you’re a consumer, a demographic, an identity theft victim. But even identity thieves don’t have an identity. They’re faceless too. Like hackers, spammers, or banking CEOs too big to jail. Why can’t we all get along? I’m guessing it’s because we don’t really talk, anymore. Or listen, for that matter.
We don’t read, either. Or at least men don’t read. Instead, we watch television more than anyone in the galaxy, which may explain why space aliens want to kill us so badly. After all, look at what we’re beaming them: celebrity trials, soap operas, ball games, reality shows, comic book movies, chicken nuggets. All one-liners, not true conversation a la “My Dinner With Andre.” Not even close.
I saw a tee-shirt recently reading, proudly: iPHONE, THEREFORE I AM. Does this also mean we’re afraid of our own private thoughts? iThink so. There’s always something “on,” always something “playing” to interrupt any original thought, these days. With books in decline, people with nothing to say are nonetheless saying it in strings of one-liners on “smart” phones while making left turns at high speed with one hand. (Teens here go “he’s like…” and “then I’m like…” never mentioning anyone over, like, 30.) Meanwhile, outside our own intimidating gas-guzzlers, we occasionally mumble things like “Merry Christmas” or “Have a nice day” when cornered, proud to have spawned the Facebook generation.
iWonder if anyone has time to smell the rose-scented Glade plugins, much less to contemplate our souls amid all the head butting on TV. Because we’re not even sure what human consciousness is. Do our brains equal “us,” for instance? We need to talk about this. Because if your brain controls everything, this obviously means your body is only a shell. You could lose your arms and legs and still be 100% “you.” Liposuction has no effect on you, either, except to make your shell more attractive to other hormonally-driven brains. But if you cut out your brain. . . well, that’s it. You’re cooked. So the lesson here may be that people are really only three pound clumps of jelly, which you could probably hold in your hand for at least a few seconds before freaking out. How “cool” is that? And all this time we’ve been worried, too, about what some other clump of jelly thinks about our own clump of jelly. All over the country these three pound “jellies” recognize the shell holding our clump, and our clump wonders how these jellies are “doing” or “feeling,” and if they’re coming to visit you for what is termed a “holiday,” and if the alignment of electrical impulses inside our jelly mold can ever “forgive” or “love” or “whatever” them again. Or even if we should. Meanwhile Hollywood would have us believe there just might be huge 600 lb. jellies moving this direction at near light speed to make slaves of all the smaller jellies on this tiny world we’ve dubbed “Earth.” Am iRight?
Such thoughts plague my jelly whenever it can’t get into REM sleep due to neighbors who can’t stop moving furniture until 3:30 AM. One day I may find peace at last from these troublesome ruminations. Until then, unless someone finds a few minutes in their day to stop following scores and talk in person, I fear I’ll end up wearing a tee-shirt reading iTHOUGHT, THEREFORE iWAS as I wander around Wal Mart parking lots, complaining that the two buck Dasani water is still the safest option to diabetes that Coke offers, although it’s just filtered tap water bottled at 2000 times the energy cost of tap water and 20,000 times the price. And no one will listen to me then, either.
The Doomsday Preppers, (whose articles of incorporation indicate they formed due to statements made by Ben Bernanke and Kim Kardashian), “rioted” at a Sears Black Friday event after being bested by area soccer moms in the toy department. “The Kiss-Me-Elmo doll was down to one left,” reports Ryback Solomon, “and had been selected as one of the target items the Preppers wanted to include in their Plan B Project, along with a Twinkie and a set of Craftsman tools, all chosen for their suggested irony. The Plan B Project, created via a grant supplied through Congressional earmark, involves embedding cultural icons as new ‘fossil’ time capsules into cave rocks to be discovered in the distant future by advanced alien paleontologists, after catastrophic global tornadoes and nuclear winter have caused homo sapiens to go belly up. Actually, the term ‘riot,’ as used by bored journalists in search of ratings, was somewhat of a sensational overstatement, since the Preppers were, in fact, outnumbered and outgunned by the horde of drooling Mama Boo-Boo look-alikes who’d arrived in mini-vans and Hummers. The Twinkie has a suspected shelf life of 6 Million years, while the Craftsman tools could be returned for a full refund to Sears Tower, were it still to stand. As for the Elmo in question, it did not survive ten minutes, and now resembles cheap pillow stuffing.”
In other news, will the NFL soon discover a cure for cancer? They aren’t denying the rumors, after one of their players, suffering a concussion and boos, emerged from his coma with a higher I.Q.. “Is this a freak of nature, or a harbinger of future transformational insights related to head injuries?” coach Guy Budswell asked “hypnothetically” after consulting several books which were not rule books or record books (and included a dictionary.) “I believe with my whole torso that Butch may indeed score the Big One for the Ripper, proving that a knock on the head can be a good thing. Those few of you out there who are not NFL fans yet should now reconsider your hostile assumptions in light of this new evidence, using as a basis your very argument that societal progress is made by non-static individual ideas and not groupthink or confrontational conformity. Just think about it, anyway, George and Jeff. And Walter. You guys have been holdouts, and for what? Who’s to say another concussion like Butch’s won’t lead to fusion power or term limits? Call the number on your screen right now and order Direct TV Prime Sunday Ticket. Remember, if you act now you get Ultimate Cage Fighter, with plenty of quantum concussion metrics at play there too. Plus two liters of Coke.” Footnote: Budswell was arrested soon after making this statement for engaging in DUI with a minor. Meanwhile, funding for medical research has been cut, although more money for bigger stadiums continues to be generated through municipal bonds.