Toxic Chestnuts

The Economical Michael Bay

2011-01-19T00:07:00.004-05:00

Best Picture, Best Director, Best
Original Screenplay 2009

Michael Bay is a national treasure. I cannot think of anyone I admire more.

His minimalist filmmaking style is an inspiration to anyone who believes in the power of story over the power of the big budget movie. With his ruthless attention to economy, he was able to make his most recent movie for the unbelievable sum of 200 million dollars. The movie was Transformers 2, possibly the greatest film created to this day.

There are people who are so mainstream that they vehemently declare their distaste for Bay's work, but those plebeians are not worthy to kiss the golden toilet seat graced by Bay's sacred buttocks. They do not understand that Transformers 2 was a subtle critique of an administration that was dismantling pet projects from the leviathan military of the US. In the film he clearly demonstrates that those projects are necessary to flail helplessly against the evil automatons that will inevitably invade earth. I am terrified of what is happening, are you?

When I first watched Armageddon, I was so moved that I was forced to turn it off before my tears soaked dvd box. And that box! Oh, it was a work of art more beautiful than all the life in the Gulf of Mexico surfacing through oil slick film with the glaze of death in its eyes. But alas, those days are over.

Citizen Kane, Casablanca, Apocalypse Now -- they're all crap compared to the genius that is Michael Bay. With only the GNP of 2,250,000 Burundians he has created films that have changed the world forever. Modest budgets. Epic masterpieces. Thank you Michael.

Caribou's Ascent Pt1

2010-09-24T15:55:00.000-04:00

A living mist trapped sunrise sunlight and wisped red on the hill's summit. Long brown autumn grass quivered in the thin light from base to glowing peak. A small caribou slowly climbed the hill with fat noise canceling headphones over his tiny ears. He was listening to a Scottish-Canadian rock band that favored lengthy bagpipe and electric guitar solos. The music, said Caribou, is definitely perfect, but it would be nice if there were a chairlift to levitate me up this hill.

Caribou crested the hill and sat down. Feeling inspired by the music and the view below him, Caribou began to sing. No one ever heard whether that his voice was hoarse or clear because at that moment the loud clack and rumble of a helicopter dusted away the his voice with wind and sound. The copter swung low and Red Squirrel repelled down, landing beside Caribou.

Americans Outraged at Latest Crisis

2010-09-09T23:41:00.006-04:00

The strife in the Darfur region is so 2 years
ago.

As the United States is a country that grants people the right to "the pursuit of happiness," it is only natural that most citizens turn their eyes inward. They are obsessed with their own feelings of happiness. Once financial stability is achieved, many people change their goals and lifestyles to focus on the more "feelgood" aspects of their lives. By listening to music that bashes the government, watching movies about heat-wrenching poverty and violence, or buying fair trade jewelry made out of recycled plastic bags, many Americans can feel good about themselves. No, it is more than just feeling good, many Americans believe that they are superior to the vast majority of a red-necked population because they listened to NPR and actually gave a shit.

But this seemingly perfect way of life is threatened. The most difficult aspect of the feelgood mission is keeping current on charity and political fads. Anyone can tell you that that supporting democracy in Burma or Iran is passé. Not that these situations have been resolved.

"It's not about actually doing anything. It's just about showing our support. Our temporary awareness of global issues does a world of good," said one feelgood undergrad.

The problem is that the feelgood fads, which were once aimlessly meandering from issue to issue, are now operating at an accelerated lifecycle.

"It used to be that I could simply join a facebook group against, say, famine in the Sahel, and I would be set for at least a month of looking down on others who were ignorant of the situation, but these days it's just impossible to stay on top of things," said another flustered feelgooder.

Several issue chasers have given up the hunt and have settled for making racist remarks in roadside diners. But others continue the chase for their own happier future. One can only hope that they will be able to keep their resolve, blindly claiming authority on what amount to niches in global politics.

Fruity Darkness Winged and Terrible

2010-08-28T16:46:00.001-04:00

Let me tell you a story, if you are willing to listen, about the end of the world. It will happen on a Thursday, like all good things in this world.

The Strawberry, a harbinger of death

One day soon evolution will make a frightening jump in favor of those dastardly strawberries. No more will they suffer the burden of feeding the insatiable human populace, their cries drowned in cream and stuffed into delicious ice cream. No, for they will acquire wings.

By the millions they shall rise up into the sky, growing larger with every wingbeat, feeding from the essence of the universe. For these strawberries are not only miracles of science and evolution, they are also strict druids. Druids, not of the old sort. These new druids will be more powerful and they will demand massive sacrifice from the humans. At first they will be satisfied by burnt offerings of young rabbits and chipmunks but it will not take long for them to demand human bodies to be placed upon the pyres.

You doubt me? Well, doubt if you must, if that is how you can tolerate the horror, but I have had a vision and my visions are never wrong.

Chad's Place

2010-08-11T16:38:00.001-04:00

Chad's Apartment is roughly 500,000 square miles in size

Over a year has passed since I have posted an untruth on Toxic Chestnuts. I would like to say that my absence was due to some preposterous life-changing event, but I have not invaded the 8th dimension, I have not cross-bred llamas with lions to terrorize the mountains of Peru, and I have not become a half-reptile privateer off the coast of Spain. No, my absence was caused by a mundane choice I made during my senior year of college, which was followed by a mundane 11months in Chad.

Chad has often been the brunt of bad jokes among the better informed, probably because a large number of Americans believe that Africa is a sort of mega country tended by music and movie stars. Many people asked me if I was going to stay with my friend Chad for awhile. Upon my return they were surprised that I managed to catch malaria and typhoid while staying in his apartment. Perhaps they thought he bred tiger mosquitoes and kept a culture of typhoid in his bathtub.

Bang for your buckaa!

2009-08-01T01:19:00.007-04:00

When I was in middle school I measured my wealth by the number of McChickens I could purchase. The transaction was simple: $1 per one sandwich (sales tax was not considered in the exchange rate). Each dollar became two pieces of white bread plastered with mayonnaise and completed one chicken patty from the bones of animals who went, from egg to mechanized execution, through a hell that would shatter the mind of former Vice President Dick Cheney.

While the McChicken is not the most ethical form of currency on the market, it maintains innate value -- junk food -- making it more stable than the dollar, euro, yen, or even the notoriously strong CFA. Common currency often takes the form of coins, paper bills, or electronic bank records, but if people lose faith in their currency en masse or if the global economy collapses it becomes worthless. By contrast, the McChicken will always be valuable as an easy way to get carbohydrates, fat, protein, and wilting lettuce.

Doubters believe the McChicken will rapidly lose value after minting but citizens of the new McDonalds empire need not worry, each sandwich is so full of preservatives that archaeologists will be digging up edible McChickens years after over invested banks implode and coins dissolve back into the soil.

The main drawback of the McChicken lies in its size: no consumer in their right mind would carry around 250 sandwiches so they could buy a Wii, or 30,000 so they could make a down payment on a new house. But a system that uses the McChicken would surely adopt more expensive foods to fill the position of larger "bills."

Only time will tell if my half-brained middle school idea will pan out into a local, national, or global currency, but the distribution centers and minting factories are already in place around the world. I leave the rest to the desperate victims of a slumped economy.

A modest history

2009-07-17T14:41:00.005-04:00

July 17, 2009 -- Penguins discover flight.

August 28, 2010 -- First puffin lands on the moon.

January 15, 2011 -- Penguins develop the H-Bomb.

January 16, 2011 -- Penguins bomb the puffin colonies to hell. 3 Puffins survive.

Feburary 10, 2011 -- Remaining puffins join together to form a crack squad of kung fu puffins.

September 22, 2012 -- Crack squad discovers the crane stance by watching the Karate Kid.

December 1, 2013 -- P vs. P day. Puffins beat the shit out of penguin leader Tuxton Qwerty.

December 25, 2013 -- Puffins and Penguins join together to destroy humans.

June 11, 2014 -- Last human destroyed.

June 12, 2014 -- Peace on earth.

(PS. visit http://danielvader.wordpress.com)

From the vault

2009-06-15T21:03:00.004-04:00

The zombie apocalypse is upon us and the only thing that keeps them out of general society is the enormous anthropomorphic personification of United Statesian self interest. As it turns out, we are so absorbed with our own culture that our raw belief spawned an unholy creature that looks strangely like the Wal-mart logo.

This logo consumes the rotting corpses of all zombies that attempt to protect shameless consumer sheep. But zombie slaying does not cut too deeply into the self-interest creature's time as most consumer brains are deemed unfit for consumption by the Zombie Board of Health. As a sensible alternative to one-tract-minds zombies usually feast upon the brains found in starving artists and hippy communes.

In other news, binary replaces the English Language as the primay means of communication in a small village built on the foothills of Google's main server farm.

"0100110101111001001000000100011101101111011001000010110000100000011010010111010000100000011101000110000101101011011001010111001100100000011001100110111101110010011001010111011001100101011100100010000001110100011011110010000001110011011000010111100100100000011000010110111001111001011101000110100001101001011011100110011100100000011011000110100101101011011001010010000001110100 011010000110100101110011"

Said 00001, the village leader. Soon all humans will adopt binary as the official single world language.

Binary Translator

History Broken

2009-05-26T13:49:00.005-04:00

Today is the day that history collides due to a flaw in the fabric of the universe.

Knights in armour stand in the house of representatives.

George Washington will fight dinosaurs who roam the Dakotan tundra.

Genghis Khan will assault the people's republic of China.

Geoffrey Chaucer will finish the Canterbury Tales.

And, most importantly, transfats are legal in NYC.

Make the most of it.

Undead Rights in London

2009-05-13T21:21:00.003-04:00

As some of you know, I have been in London for the past two weeks enjoying the life of an US tourist in a country so stubborn that they still use Pounds instead of Euros and drive on the wrong side of the road. I'm surprised they suspended weekly hangings at the gallows.

Not that I'm complaining, the universal health care coverage in this country means that I could jump off a bridge and expect the best doctors in Britain to make sure I live to write a blog post about it. But there is a silent majority in London that is rejected, disgraced, and discriminated against at every turn. The press ignores them and even the beggars despise them. Yes, I am talking about the undead.

In the picture above you see a recently made zombie taking a nap outside Russel Square Park. He would sleep in the park but the sign clearly states "Life Only," so he can only look longingly at the green grass on the other side of the stone wall. Large dogs and a few emergency angry mobs (equipped with acetylene torches) wait for him in the park should he go inside.

Places refusing to recognize or allow the undead to enter include: the underground (subway), buses, public toilets, muffin shops, and graveyards. They were even banned from free candy day at Leicester Square. Stop the discrimination and save these poor Londoners. Gordon Brown's mad mission against the undead must be stopped before he kills or exiles them all.

Photo Credit: The Undead Photography Association of London

Apathy Abounds: Something is rotten in the state of Indiana

2009-03-19T12:32:00.006-04:00

The recession has hit Northern Indiana hard, eliminating jobs for many of the workers in trailer and RV manufacturing plants.

"I lost my home and my job. I have no health care. My employer has left me to drink water from the gutters of the privileged," said former assembly line worker Rob Hatfield.

Why has the plight of the blue collar worker become so terrible? Laziness, I say, lazyness.

"I am willing to work any hours at any time. I would sacrifice anything to keep my family fed and healthy. I love them very much." said Hatfield.

A likely story.

Something is rotten in the state of Indiana. It is not individual CEOs sinking billions into their own hedonistic lifestyles, it is not the mishandling of politicians of a bloated economy, and it is not the uncontrolled explosion of the housing bubble that caused Hatfield and other blue collar workers to fall from economic grace.

No, it is a poor spirit, a poorer attitude, and a burden of apathy that sinks our working class into the sick pits and cracks left by our scabbing welfare system.

"Blue collar workers should suffer for our sins. We may burn in hell when we die, but this hell on earth belongs to the poor," said AIG chairman Edward M. Liddy, wiping the remains of a $600 meal from his mouth with a satin napkin.

More Shameless Advertisement

2009-03-13T12:47:00.006-04:00

Greetings to the elderly who loose their way on the complex path of the internet and unwittingly stumble onto the blight on creation that is Toxic Chestnuts. Hello to Googlebots, the sad tireless minions of a bloating cooperation. Welcome to Uncle Sam, I know you're watching, always.

And finally, thank you to everyone who reads this blog willingly. You have my pity.

I recently began managing a blog for the Goshen College English Department and it is isolated from the rest of the web like an orphaned baby floating on a tidal wave. I would like to extend to it the charm and goodwill of Toxic Chestnuts.

Come one, come all. Go to the English Blog. Rurik is watching.

In other news, you may have noticed that Toxic Chestnuts is starting to look like crap. Have no fear, I am merely messing with the raw materials of this blog's existance: the HTML.

I want to make the main content column wider so that items like the poetry I posted "recently" don't get mangled by text wrapping.

Blogger's HTML is a pain to work with (much like raw uranium) so please be patient with Toxic Chestnut's look while I'm working on the problem.

Photo Credit: Meeeeeee! (For once)

Ode to an iTunes Library

2009-02-18T23:16:00.003-05:00

Thou lifeless ghostly soul of creaking noise,

Distant echoes consumed by muses’ prayer,

Who lisped and whispered – shouted! – griefs and joys,

While stitching patient rhythms into air:

What cringing shadows or soaring ospreys,

Things once caged and cloned in waveless numbers,

Are called to dance in pattern of their birth?

What Hades, what river styx, here slumbers?

What Charon carries sounds across the ways,

And back again –sharp specters to the earth?

The Adventures of Rurik: Part 253

2009-02-16T23:53:00.004-05:00

The birds flew on thousands of giant winged humpback whales, bionic eyes trained on the surface of the human world. Fire and chaos consumed the cities. Skyscrapers crumbled into ash as a cold wind pushed from the north.

Rurik saw the cathedral where he used to live, better preserved than his fading memory. He spread steel wings and lept off the whale, trying to move closer to his old home, but Rurik could no longer fly.

The other birds quietly watched him fall, even the bluejays were silent. Some say when he hit the ground the explosion from his internal power core vaporized the cathedral in seconds, but Rurik's body shattered with no fireworks or trumpets. The mechanics failed and Rurik died.

And that, my friends, is the true story behind the War of 2012 between the United States and the New Avian Revolutionaries.

The Adventures of Rurik: Part 2

2009-02-13T14:32:00.006-05:00

Rurik stood on the edge of a stone rain gutter built into the cathedral. The sun drowned in the cityscape as night neared, illuminating weather worn gargoyles with the slanting rays of dusk.

"I must act now," though Rurik, "there may be no other chance."

He pulled a small device out of his feathers, placed it in the gutter, and pecked madly at it.

Click Click Click Click Click . . .

The ground shook and a nearby McDonald's erupted in flame. Ronald McDonald ran screaming out of the building covered in fire. Apparently his makeup was flammable and Ronald's magic ability to make fun did not protect him from heat damage. Maybe all Ronald McDonalds are vampires.

"That was unexpected," said Rurik. He continued to peck at the small device.
Suddenly, a Killer wale the size of an aircraft carrier with wings popped into existence above the cathedral.

"Aha! That's what I wanted," exclaimed Rurik.

The Adventures of Rurik: Introduction

2009-02-06T12:08:00.010-05:00

"Do you know what time it is?" asked Rurik the fat pigeon.

"According to the clock we're almost ready for a bell chime," replied Prometheus the three legged cat.

Only three more chimes before the breadcrumb vendor walked home, leaving Rurik's stomach to quake like a hamster in liquid nitrogen. Rurik tried to force his beak into a frown, but failed, sending him into deeper depression. Like most city pigeons, Rurik wanted birds to rule the world: "I'd like to see humans begging and shitting on cars for a change," he would say.

But since Rurik was a rational bird, he knew that humans were too powerful to overthrow. Birds that survived an uprising were imprisoned for life. Two years before, 700,000 pigeons, blue jays and scarlet macaws, had risen as one bird with one cry: "equality and victory." The revolution was brutally beaten back by lawless agents of the Catholic church. Many of the bird idealists were placed in unauthorized prison cells around Boston.

No, Rurik did not believe in the first bird rebellions, but he was a great scientist. He believed that with proper genetic modifications and cybernetic augmentation, revolution was possible. This is his story, his legacy is all around you.

Modern Anthropology

2009-01-31T00:42:00.004-05:00

Anthropologists are flocking to Southern Arizona, seeking enlightenment and insight on dead cultures. Those few that choose to return to the real world, also known as any state but Arizona, tell miraculous stories of long dead civilizations from our planet and, more importantly, from nearby star systems.

They acquire this new knowledge from the Grand Thead (GT), also known as the blind beast with a hundred-thousand blood teeth. Many academics hail GT as the foremost scholar in all things unknown, a title formally held by Nancy Latner of New London, Pennsylvania.

GT has more experience with dead civilizations than the whole of Western Civilization. Much like the forefathers of modern society, GT has consumed entire civilizations in violent acts of insatiable gluttony, stripping worlds of all biological life.

"My great-grandfather was a Catholic, my grandfather was an Evangelical, and my father was a devout Satanist. I'll be damned if I let other beliefs ruin my rich heritage that I have forced upon everyone I meet. This Grand Thead is alright by me so long as he protects his beliefs with more violence than I can muster with a grenade belt and an AK-47," said one patriotic Arizonian, approving of this newcomer from outer space.

Graduate Students wishing to study with the Grand Thead should submit their applications early. Resumes should include the applicant's physical size, weight, and BMI.

Cell Rebellion

2009-01-16T13:46:00.006-05:00

Your body is made up of lots of tiny cells, each with its own personality, religion, and favorite drink. But these cells have one thing in common, they are becoming weak and lazy. If this trend continues you can expect to be twitching on the ground gasping for oxygen as your red blood cells enjoy a cheap drink at the blood pub in your left forearm.

Why, you might ask, are our body cells becoming lazy? The answer is simple, and terrible.

Three years ago a scientist named Abraham Kobzar developed the first microtelevision technology. In order to test the effectiveness of these micro-TVs, Kobzar injected the technology into the bloodstreams of 1,900 willing test subjects.

At first the results were encouraging. Using the television network, blood cells were able to communicate more rapidly and organize their actions to optimize the performance and overall health of the body.

But something went wrong. The cells began to use their TVs for entertainment and the televangalistic spread of cell religion. Needless to say, experiencing the crude creative attempts of the studio cells was more entertaining than stopping viruses or carrying oxygen from place to place, so the cells created an 8 hour work day.

The more industrial cells used their technical skill to pass the micro-TV technology to other bodies, placing the machines on open skin to be picked up by the cells on another body when contact is made. The technology can also be transmitted sexually.

If you are experiencing unusual lethargy, starvation, or suffocation, call your doctor to arrange a sequence of EMP treatments to disable the technology and get your cells back in working order.

Enemies of the Llamas

2009-01-04T13:39:00.005-05:00

The United States is in dire straights. Baobab trees, energy crises, dinosaurs returning from the dead, and the viral spread of anti-patriotism are all pressing down like a billion pounds of poisonous pressure on this great nation.

Now our greatest allies are in danger. The Free Llama Republic, situated in the smoldering ruins of former Peru, has encountered fierce terrorist attacks from Los Cuy de Independencia. The Cuy are disgruntled guinea pigs, funded by coca trade and fighting for a free anarchist state.

These Cuy indiscriminately attack Llama citizens using high powered plastic explosives lodged in their small, but surprisingly stretchy, stomachs. Nearly 1,000 Llamas and 8,000 Cuy have died in the resulting armed engagements.

The Llamas have supplied the US with several divisions of ground troops and an unspecified number of the Alpaca Special forces over the past 11 years.

President Bush urged the Llamas to maintain their military presence in the US.

"I mean, come on guys, we really need a break. Please? Not that we're desperate," the President said in a public meeting the the Llama ambassador.

All Llama troops will called back to South America by Jan 15 to deal with the Cuy insurgency.

Christmas Attack: Los Angeles Falls

2008-12-26T20:14:00.006-05:00

It takes three years for a Siberian squirrel to cross the United States on foot. Not many attempt the journey, fewer succeed. Fast moving cars, hungry dogs, and conscienceless raccoons plague the path with mortal danger.

On Christmas Day 30,000 Siberian squirrel's reached Los Angeles with the cold air of winter nipping the quadrupeds through their Kevlar body armor. Summoning the last of their courage and energy, the army subdued LAPD and the local militia, claiming and renaming Los Angeles "New Novosibirsk" after the capital of Siberia.

"I think what we have accomplished today will be written as the defining moment of the 21st century," said Petrov Fortunatov, supreme commander of the squirrel army.

Until recently North America has been under the solid control of the Gray Squirrel party. The Grays are notorious for negotiating the Great Surrender of 1968, where they took advantage of the chaos after Kennedy's assassination to conquer the known free world.

Only time will tell if the Grays will be able to hold onto their power after such a serious defeat. Thousands of squirrels have already died and neither side has any reason to back down. Only the intervention of third airborne division of the Great White owls could bring any peace to this practice of reckless hate.

Christmas

2008-12-22T17:02:00.004-05:00

Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Kill that obese fowl before it gets flatulent.

Since Christmas is just around the corner, I would like to tell you all a little tale from a book called the Bible.

One day in the Middle East, the bureaucratic government of Caesar Augustus required everyone to return to their town of birth to be taxed. Mary and Joseph went to Nazareth because the unreasonable decisions of their military oppressors didn't seem too bad.

And there were in the same massive empire shepherds, abiding in their fields, drinking grape wine, and gambling away their flocks by night.

And Frank, an angel of the lord came upon them, and the glory of the lord shown round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And Frank said unto them, "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be unto most people."

"Most people?" asked one trembling shepherd.

"Yes. Well. Heaven isn't big enough for everyone, and some people are predestined to follow pagan religions. Many will even renounce these tidings, shifting their eternal post-mortem agony into the circle of hell where ravenous ginny pigs live in their skulls," said Frank.

And the shepherds were painfully afraid. One of the sheep herders puked and passed out in the grass.

Hmm . . . well. Perhaps I should stop before this get's too sacrilegious and God smites me with a large pointy snowflake. Snowflakes, not lightning bolts, are the main source of God's vengeful retribution after all, and winter is a great time for smiting. Happy Christmas everyone.

Trump Card

2008-12-17T23:29:00.009-05:00

This Thursday the United States will play Russia, China, and India in a large scale poker tournament. The stakes: the world's remaining oil reserves. The European Union, annoyed at being left out of the tournament, is expected to sulk, squabble, and build more euro centric electric railroads.

Hundreds of thousands of world leaders, international diplomats, and poker fanatics will meet in a stadium in Saudi Arabia to watch the game. Some have called it the largest terrorist target since President Bush walked unarmed and unguarded through the streets of Baghdad in January 2004.

The NSA has taken special precautions to ensure a victory for the United States, installing nearly 12,000 microscopic security cameras around the table. The plan is to broadside the competitors' superior poker skills with a technological treachery. These cameras will allow Sam Fisher, the representative for the US, to see his opponents cards.

"He can't possibly lose," said long time gambler Antonio Frederick. Antonio was later found selling his own left kidney on a poorly lit street corner to pay off gambling debts.

If the US wins this tournament, analysts believe the oil thirsty nation will have enough fuel to last until 2010.

"We need to win this tournament, and we need to start turning food into ethanol fuel. We are wasting too much food on aid for third world countries and hurricane victims," said Patricia A. Woertz, humanitarian and CEO of Archer Daniel Midland.

Patriotic Disaster

2008-12-15T11:04:00.008-05:00

I noticed recently that there are few Confederate flags flying in peoples lawns, flapping on car antennas, and glowing on pickup truck license plates. I realize that this phenomenon is probably localized to northern states like Pennsylvania, but the fact remains: many Americans hate their country. Truly, there is nothing more patriotic than seceding from the US, participating in a war that kills over 600,000 Americans, and starting your own country where slaves are legal. God Bless the confederacy and smite those northern Yankees.

In other news, federal agents arrested Rod Blagojevich, for attempting to sell Obama's vacant senate seat. Many have called his decision the work of an economic genius.

"In these hard times we need to take advantage of every economic opportunity we get. If that means selling our democracy to make some petty cash, then so be it," said John Roberts, Jr.

Most senators buy their seats indirectly, purchasing ads and brainwashing the general public with campaign slogans. Blagojevich boldly attempted to take out the middle-man, achieving new efficiency in our bureaucratic system.

Out of the Picture

2008-12-12T08:42:00.006-05:00

Toxic Chestnuts is only five days old and Google has already removed it from any and all web searches. I'm serious, this website was more searchable three hours after I made the first post than it is now. Today, a google search for Toxic Chestnuts or Toxicchestnuts will list links to the meaningless ramblings of twosmallfish.blogspot instead posting connections to my ruthless search for truth here at Toxic Chestnuts. It is a dark, dark world indeed.

Today Robert Gates revealed the greatest national security threat since a giant hampster joined the Confederate army in 1863:

"As many of you know, baobab trees have infiltrated our government. You thought the problem was contained to wastelands like Nebraska and Michigan, but you were wrong. So wrong.

Baobab trees are holding top positions in the US government, even I am a baobab tree. Do not resist us, you all will join the ranks of the baobab soon enough. Good day, and God bless Madagascar."

Americans remained optimistic in the face of this grave announcement.

"I think these baobab trees will pull us out of this current economic crisis by harvesting the organs of countless humans for tree fertilizer," said Edward P. Lazear.

Whether strong baobab leadership can pull the US out of its current economic crisis remains to be seen. Their new policies may be hurt by their inability to comprehend currency and their utter disrespect for human life. But perhaps the US needs a change of leadership and a new way of thinking.

A Warning to Palaeontologists

2008-12-10T09:52:00.001-05:00

Palaeontologists are nothing more than grave robbers. They dig up the dignified skeletons of ancient species and throw them in a cataloged library of bones and fossils, or assemble displays for the gawking masses in museums. Fortunately, the dinosaurs can still fight back.

On December 21st at 7:04AM EST, also known as the winter solstice, dinosaurs can break free from the spiritual realm to exact their revenge. Some palaeontologists only collect the bones of herbivores to improve their chances of survival, but most know better. As 307 unfortunate grave robbers learned last year, herbivores replace their teeth with lightsabers in the afterlife and develop a keen hunger for human flesh.

Jurassic Park was based on a true story. A team of archeologists discovered and removed a huge number of dinosaur skeletons on an island in the early 90s. On the winter solstice the team came back to excavate more skeletons. They were all killed, but their story was recorded on a documentary camera positioned on a tripod above the dig.

Some of you already know that my house was built on an ancient velociraptor burial ground. Their spirits are angrier than a box of wasp-stung, rabies-driven ferrets. I can only survive the winter solstice by staying airborne for a full 24hrs. It's worth the hassle, you can grow some good yellow squash on velociraptor burrial grounds.

If you ever wanted to see a real dinosaur, watch for palaeontologists this winter solstice. The dead are merciless and quite visable when hunting their tormentors. Take your children to see the dinosaurs so they never dream of robbing the ancient killers' bones from the earth.

Energy Independence

2008-12-09T10:32:00.000-05:00

The sun went on strike today, and the sky is grayer than my frostbitten appendages. I guess the sun was tired of working long hours for no social security, no health care, and no pay. Go figure.

Dark days like this make us realize that we are too dependent on the sun as a source of warmth, light, and life. If it moved to another galaxy we'd be shafted with eternal darkness, gripping cold, and death. We need to find an alternative source for earth energy. The sun is a giant ball of burning gas and it cannot be trusted.

Balrog Energy® provides the solution to our unstable energy supply. With hordes of fiery balrogs terrorizing the globe with their demonic internal flame we will have no need for the sun.

Jeff Immelt, energy expert and CEO of General Electric, said:

Balrogs are the future. Nothing can stand in their way as they grapple for control of all life and happiness on this planet. God, someone stop them, someone please stop them.

You heard him folks, "Balrogs are the future." Throw out your sun lamps because a glorious millennium of fire lies ahead.

The Migration and Shameless Advertising

2008-12-08T15:09:00.000-05:00

I lived the past two years without blogging. To some this feat might be comparable to such terrible experiences as a 30day famine or attending a dinner party with Laura Bush, but I accomplished it with the power of pure lazy indifference. It's good to be back.

I returned to the blogosphere this morning full of naive optimism and recently acquired HTML skills. But Xanga, my previous blog host, looks and feels like three week old monkey crap. Their interface is almost useless and you have to wrestle HTML flexibility from it with the patience of a rock. I am not patient, (Rocks are so smug. Blast them!) so I migrated to blogspot.

What is a new blog without some shameless advretisement? I'm graduating soon and I'm going to need a job, so visit my new website. If enough people discover my obscure website I might get a job in a refrigerator box somewhere.

In other news, finals are closing in like a clan of soul eating hyenas. Normally this would concern me, but this year's lineup looks pretty weak and underfed. I should be able to take them down with a couple of jabbing essays and some basic computer code.

My advice for December: beware the pagans! They are still pretty mad that their celebration on the 25th was replaced with a Christian holiday.