From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (The Pleasing Consistency)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.postmodern
Subject: A Cure for Folly
Date: Mon, 18 Dec 2000 18:55:14 -0500
Organization: curse words in the newspaper
[TITLE CARD: In order to show you just how expensive it is.]
VO: (measured and deliberate) In order to show you just how expensive it is.
[CUT TO: School Bus Chubby and Diambulator standing in a stygian
lake of
fire. Their dialogue
is heard over a constant panache of tortured
wailing.]
School Bus Chubby: So what's the *sixth* evillest thing you've ever done?
Diambulator: I once paid a kid $25 to shout "Post Fucking
Modern
Expelitive" repeatedly
on a crowded city street.
School Bus Chubby: Yeesh.
Diambulator: When I came back forty five minutes later, it
had
transformed itself into
"Post Moron Fucking Explanation."
School Bus Chubby: That's nothing to sneeze at.
Diambulator: Nosiree
[A Little Devil jumps into view and pulls a black shade down
over the
viewing area.]
Little Devil: Hee hee hee!
['THE END' is superimposed on the screen. Little Devil gives
us a knowing
wink and a thumbs up.]
--
It don't take a year to figure out that one of the candidates
is a
hostile alien space fungus and the other has been dead for
three
thousand years.
-Pete Willard
TWIDN -- http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html
Subject: Re: Paranoia about poor spellers
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net
(I killed that hippy)
Date: 1998/02/01
Message-ID: <tagutcow-2708561451210001@pm1-18.gso.infi.net>
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
In article <886048081.1375600651@dejanews.com>, nrodg27403@hotmail.com
(the mysterious nebula) wrote:
>In article <tagutcow-2708561409190001@pm11-221.gso.infi.net>,
> tagutcow@nr.infi.net (I killed that hippy) wrote
>
>>while you dorks were watching the Super Bowl, I was watching
>> ejaculation on basic cable... and I don't mean Jonathan Edwards.
>
>... ejaculation ??...on basic cable ???...was that the *pubic*
access
>channel? ;-}
Pubic!?! Ees oldest one in book!!!
Actually, it was on Lifetime (the last place preeves like
you would think
to look-- seeing ejaculation on basic cable is something you gotta
*earn*.) They also showed a 3D thermograph of a guy getting a woody.
Speaking of pubic access, a friend of my sister's said she
once saw host
of local public access show 'Field Day' Rob Vickery- shortly before
the
occurances of drugs 'n' nudity on his show, the attendant public
outcry,
and his eventual giving up of the ship- pull it out in a downtown
café (I
hope Kia isn't paranoid about garbled sentence structure.) Supposedly,
this friend heard a nearby booth of hellions start stomping their
feet and
chanting "Balls out (*stomp* *stomp*) balls out (*stomp* *stomp*)..."
Turning her head merely to see what all this commotion was about,
she was
treated instead to a full sight of Rob Vickery's proud, throbbing
manpole.
As it turns out, exposing yourself in a restaraunt is a great way
to avoid
actually having to pay; management simply asks you to leave.
I was once introduced to Rob Vickery in person. He kinda
gave me the
whim-whams.
Well, since I mentioned Lifetime, "proud, throbbing", and
a wacky
situation involving male oafishness, I guess I'll have to turn
this into a
Designing Women spoof now.
(JULIA, MARY JOE, ANTHONY and CHARLENE are seated at a cafe table.)
CHARLENE: ...and so I said to her, "if that ancient cow thinks she
can get
her a man by wearing /that/, she deserves what she can get."
MARY JOE: (laughs) Is it just me or have we become the ugliest women in Atlanta?
ANTHONY: (indicating diagonal booth) Hey, would you look at that?
It's
public access television personality Rob Vickery.
(Cutaway shot to Rob Vickery's and his table. The group is are active
and
noisy.)
MARY JOE: I'm such a big fan.
JULIA: I have seen that man's show and it is stew-pid. Pay no mind
to him.
I'm just glad to be enjoying some quality time with my respected
coworkers.
(JULIA begins to sip her coffee, but does a spit take when shouts
of
"Balls Out... Balls Out" are heard. JULIA swivels around backwards
to see
what's going on. Camera dolleys in towards her horrified face.)
CHARLENE: (looking over JULIA's shoulder) Hey, look, Respected Television
Personality Rob Vickery pulled it out. (laugh track)
JULIA: (hushed, indignant) This is an outrage!
MARY JOE: C'mon, Julia, it's no big deal.
CHARLENE: Yeah, it's just public access people living their wackier,
fresher public access lives.
JULIA: I cannot buh-leeve you all can stand for this. People should
be
able to go to a cafe without having to see some long-haired *hippy*
expose
himself. I'm going to refer this matter to The Law.
(JULIA tightly clutches her purse and walks swiftly to nearby off-duty
POLICE OFFICER seated at an adjacent booth. As she walks, members
of the
rowdy table heckle her.)
JULIA: (to OFFICER, with a tense, ministerial rubato) Officer! My
coworkers and I were trying to enjoy some time off when a bunch
of
*hoodlums* sitting next to us started chanting something about
(deliberately) 'Balls Out' and then that (points) long-haired *hippy*
pulled out his *willie* for aaaallll God's creation to see.
OFFICER: (waits for laughter to subside) I've seen this fella before,
Miss
Sugerbaker. I'll see what I can do about it.
(OFFICER approaches noisy table of nogoodniks trading "jibes" and
giving
eachother "skin." ROB VICKERY sits next to the aisle with his zipper
still
undone.)
OFFICER: Mr. Vickery, we're gonna have to kindly ask you to leave
this
restaraunt. If you do not comply, I will have to remove you bodily
from
these premises.
ROB VICKERY: Oh, maaaan, this is so totally swank, maaaan. I'm a
local
celebrity... don't you know what that means? I have my own cable
acess
show! Your "laws" don't apply to me.
OFFICER: The "law" applies to everyone, even to local celebrities.
Now I
said you'll have to leave these premises, Mister Vickery. Step
lively!
(Amidst further protests, including an admonition to Julia to "get
a
root", OFFICER drags ROB VICKERY offstage. Audience goes gangbusters
at
the girl-power triumph.)
(CHARLENE, MARY JOE and ANTHONY join JULIA as she watches.)
MARY JOE: Gee, Julia. Sorry I doubted you. We shouldn't have to
put up
with that type of behavior from our role models.
CHARLENE: Yeah, I think we all learned something. Just wait till
we tell
Bernice about this.
(ANTHONY suddenly looks nervous.)
JULIA: Anthony, you *did* remember to pick Bernice up from her
walk-through tour of the Upjohn facilities, didn't you?
ANTHONY: (stammering) Um... well... not exactly. (smiles haplessly)
(Cut to Bernice, scaffolded in an anonymous laboratory. Lid locks
keep her
eyes pried open. She appears to be disoriented.)
BERNICE: Black maaaaan, black maaaaan, wheeere did you come from...
(A robotic arm lowers into view and sprays a steady stream of a
toxic,
scathing fluid into her eyes.)
BERNICE: Auuugh, my eyes! It's not fair when you're old! Auuugh!
(Laugh track would go here, but audience is instead disturbed and
confused. Freeze frame and roll credits.)
THE END
Well, that's my story, kids. Did'ya enjoy it? That Rob Vickery,...
granted, pulling it out in a cafe is really inappropriate,-- but
that
officer, boy, dragging Rob Vickery bodily from the cafe... I think
he was
way outta line! But that Rob Vickery character certainly wasn't
helping
his case with that "get a root" comment... what was up with that!
Which if any party was in error? Should restaraunts post
their policies
concerning indecent exposure? Why don't you, the reader at home,
decide?
Robert "Not my best post, but it's the one they'll remember me for"
Caponi
--
http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html - NEW:
Sto0pid MIDI files
"Art O'Brien: Cop" ~ "Bacon or Tripe?" ~ "NBC Opera Riot" ~ "A
Pro/Con Tribe"
"I Borne To Crap" ~ "Coroner Bit Pa" ~ "Be or Rot? Panic!" ~ "A
Robot Prince"
"Torn CIA Probe" ~ "Croon? It be Rap!" ~ "Nero Atop Crib"
~ "A Boor Crept In"
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Some Diseased Algebra)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.fan.beable
Subject: Re: Automated Gallery O' Dqqm
Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2002 01:41:36 -0800
Organization: your helping verbs are useless against me
In article <3C72F4FE.FE7ADCC@yahoo.com>, Nicko <ousnick2002@yahoo.com> wrote:
> I can't tell if meant by "...you may infer..." that in essence
"you are
> *allowed to* infer," or rather that you meant to write, "...you
*might*
> infer..." as in, "...it is possible that you will infer..."
> Please for to be clarifying?
>
> Technical readers want to know!
[SFX: Piercing high pitched digital aliasing]
ROBERT: [cups head in hands] ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!
[silence]
ROBERT: Somewhere in my brane there's a scratchy variable
resistor and so
I have trouble with subtle gradations of meaning.
[silence]
TASHIKI: That's funny, I would have said "shades" of meaning.
[SFX: Piercing high pitched digital aliasing]
ROBERT: [cups head in hands] ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!
FINNEGAN: I think it might be the case that our friend here
has trouble
with subtle shades of meaning...
TASHIKI: ...or rather, it *is* the case that he *might* have a...
[SFX: Piercing high pitched digital aliasing]
ROBERT: [cups head in hands] ARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!
[ZOOM INTO: Robert's nostril, traveling through sundry viscera
until we
come to a black box labelled "VARIABLE RESISTOR" sitting on a table.
The
ringing continues to rise in pitch and intensity until it exceeds
the
threshhold of pain...]
[...at which point the black box explodes in a puff of white
smoke, its
sides collapsing in outward directions.]
[Vaseline blurred imagery of ROBERT eating at a fancy restaraunt
with a
HAWT CHYX0R.]
HAWT CHYK: So are you going home with me?
ROBERT: Sure!
[Vaseline blurred imagery of ROBERT drinking wine in HAWT
CHYX0R'Z living
room.]
HAWT CHYK: So are you going to bed with me?
ROBERT: Why not!
[Vaseline blurred imagery of ROBERT lying in bed with HAWT
CHYK, with the
seam politely pulled up to his chest.]
HAWT CHYXX0R: So do you want to make HAWT MUHRNKEE LURVVEE?
ROBERT: o gross
[ZOWIE ZOOM INTO: HAWT CHYK'S face wincing as if to say "Can
you believe
this?"]
[SFX: Wacky boing]
HAWT CHYK: Um, Rob, you *do* realize you're in heaven, don't you?
ROBERT: Oh no! I'm dead!?!
HAWT CHYK: Yes, why else would you respond to a post that's
already two
days old?
[ZOWIE ZOOM INTO: HAWT CHYK'S face wincing as if to say "Who knew?"]
[SFX: Wacky boing]
[TIN PAN ALLEY CHORUS:
CMaj
GMaj7
It's like a splinter in your mind it's
Dmin
FMaj
gonna get you every tiiimmmmeeeee....
CMaj FMaj
You're surely dead the body surely
GMaj7
Amin
can't exist without the mind.
CMaj
Dmin
GMaj7 CMaj
It's like a splinter in your mind it's gonna get you every
time.]
ROBERT: And this time when Mike Cates was telling me I wasn't
doing
anything with my life and I said I was going to college with my
music and
he said oh so you're going to some imaginary college and I said
"no, I am-
in reality- *figuratively* going to college." There ends my misadventures
with ambiguity of meaning.
CHORUS: da da da!
--
TWIDN
http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html
Krafft-Ebing's "Punctuation is Everyhthing" online at:
http://artists.mp3s.com/artist_song/2181/2181074.html
What were once cathareses for me are now mandatory for everyone.
This post simultaneously allowed me passive-aggressively to air my grievances with one Joshua Milliard, vent my disgust with talk.abortion, and sublimate my loathing of the profoundly upsetting "Deep Blue Sea" into a screenplay. Important to know: a movie called "Devilfish" featured on MST3K ended with the joke, "I know where I'm vacationing next year... the mountains!"
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Mark Twain: A Dialogue)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: putting on my talk.abortion nightcap, troubled sleep
Date: Sat, 21 Jul 2001 02:44:17 -0500
Organization: cult of the retardo-dome
OK, new euphemism... "Killing Joshua Millard."
Usage: "I'm 'killing Joshua Millard' RIGHT NOW! IYKWIM, AITYD."
A brief comic illustration:
[ROBERT and SAFFRON are gently sexing eachother on the blackened
remains
of what was once an off-sea laboratory.]
SAFFRON: Ugh, here comes Joshua Millard.
[A geeky, bespectacled JOSHUA MILLARD paddles up to the edge
and hoists
himself up onto the platform. He removes his snorkel and begins
speaking
in a grating, geeky voice.]
JOSHUA: Boy howdy, who could have ever predicted that breeding
super-intelligent sharks for the purposes of neural regeneration
would be
fraught with such dangers.
ROBERT: (knocking JOSHUA behind kneecaps) ...Oops!
JOSHUA: Heyyyyy...
[SAFFRON stands up.]
SAFFRON: The man said... "Oops."
[SAFFRON thwacks JOSHUA across the back of the head with her
elbow.
JOSHUA makes panicked gestures as he falls into the waters below.]
[SAFFRON and ROBERT start making sexing motions again.]
ROBERT: I guess you could say I was... killing Joshua Millard.
[SAFFRON thinks about it a while, then laughs.]
SAFFRON: HA HA HA!
[SAFFRON and ROBERT resume having hawt pro-LIE bunny sex with redoubled vigor.]
[CUT TO: Chintzy CGI of JOSHUA MILLARD being grusomely rended
in twain
and eaten by shark.]
[CUT TO: ROBERT and SAFFRON, who appear to be in the afterglow of love.]
ROBERT: I know what I'm doing next vacation...
SAFFRON: What's that?
ROBERT: ...FETAL HARVESTING!!!
BOTH: HA HA HA HA!
[Heart-shaped iris out.]
--
Don't believe the dental hygine LIE!!!
• Twidn
• http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html
• Krafft-Ebing • http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/krafft.html
I'm high on elderly abuse!
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Some Diseased Algebra)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: Re: Hey Tagutcow.
Date: Fri, 01 Mar 2002 01:06:53 -0800
Organization: your helping verbs are useless against me
In article <slrna7t8g8.1erke.manfre@shell01.TheWorld.com>,
manfre@world.std.com (Joe Manfre) wrote:
> I thought the CD of your music that you sent me is actually pretty
> darned good. I have been listening to it on my CD player
and getting
> parts of it stuck in my head; surely that means something.
>
>
> JM
And yesterday I got an email from some guy at a label saying
he'd be
willing to sign some of my tracks... next fall. I can't really
complain,
but I'll keep fishing around for responses. I'd like to shove this
in the
collective face of the dnb production mailing list, but when rage
dissapates, I take comfort in the misunderstanding the greats had
to
endure.
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN
(YOUNG JOHN TESH sits at his family's upright, noodling around
on the
white keys.)
(FATHER appears from corridor, brandishing a belt.)
FATHER: you burr put some thirds in those chords boy.
YJT: No father, one day this will be known to the world as
"new age
music." Listen to the way...
FATHER: ah *say* you burr put some thirds in those chords boy.
YJT: ...any sort of resolution...
(FATHER unfurls belt and snaps it at YJT in slow-motion, the
screen
blanching white as the tip of the belt approaches YJT's butt, accompanied
by an orchestral crescendo.)
(CUT TO: A close-up of YJT, tears streaming down his face
as his father
spanks him.)
YJT (VO): One day it shall come to pass when my "new age music"
is known
far and wide, and I *shall* sire a child of a same-name relation
to
somebody in some nameless bozo's Photoshop class at GTCC, and my
music
*will* invariably be playing on the stereo at same nameless bozo's
therapist's office, driving him to distraction. No, the world has
not
heard the last of John Tesh!
(Low tone cluster draws to a crescendo)
So there's my two-degrees-from-John-Tesh. One thing I've been
meaning to
ask you, Joe, that cousin of Jonathan Brandis you dated? Did she,
by any
chance, happen to be HAWT? I need to know for my eugenics exam.
Thanks!
(And maybe I'll give you the S00P3R SPESHULL version of my
demo that
doesn't have the first second of each track chopped off.)
--
TWIDN
http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html
Krafft-Ebing's "Punctuation is Everything" online at:
http://artists.mp3s.com/artist_song/2181/2181074.html
What were once cathareses for me are now mandatory for everyone.
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Smart Women, Stupid Choices)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: Re: Plot devices that make you want to scratch your head
Date: 30 Jun 1998 00:24:01 GMT
Organization: Blandwood: A Planned Community
(I got a phone call whilst writing this article. As soon as
I picked up
the phone, a woman started spouting off at a comical rate about
"blah blah
blah blah email blah blah blah email blah email blah blah blah
blah
email." Having picked out none of the words but 'email', and thinking
this
was some sort of joke, I waited about five seconds before saying
"...what?" She laughed, and said at a somewhat slower but still
indiscernably pace "blah blah blah blah email blah blah blah email
blah
email blah we're not doing this to make money. Is there anyone
else there
I could speak to?" "Uh, no" I replied, "there's nobody else here
at this
moment." "Oh, ok, well, I'll call later. Bye!"
I'm scared.)
In article <3596e8c4.344881346@news.mindspring.com>,
blnadri.all@spammers.must.die.mindspring.com (B.L. Nadri) wrote:
> On Sun, 28 Jun 1998 16:22:48 -0500, jaffo@cheerful.com (Jaffo),
you
> arched a brow and said dryly:
>
> >In alt.religion.kibology, on Sun, 28 Jun 1998 20:16:48 GMT,
B.L. Nadri
> >said:
>
> [snip]
>
> >:Can't we? The notion of external validation as the required
or primary
> >:method of valuation is a cruel myth.
Let me take a wild stab here: the kids in school used to call
you
"B. L. *Nerdy*", didn't they. Yep, thought as much. Next!
There was a kid in the second grade who used to me a name
that exploited
a phonetic similarity between my last name and a then-popular and
impossibly girly and pastel toy series/television show.
I remember it hurting my feelings at the time.
Of course, nowadays I pay people to call me it.
> >As a measure of real, personal worth, surely. But the notion
of
> >external validation is alive and well in society.
>
> The fact it exists as a construct in society does not in any
fashion
> support it as inherently superior or possessed of some connotation
of
> 'rightness'. Many constructs exist within society that are detrimental
> to those who comprise it, but (in my opinion) none so cruelly
as the
Yeah, I mean, who ever said individuality had to be *difficult*?
Why,
it's my *right* not only to have my individuality officially sanctioned,
but subsidized at taxpayer expense!
[Lap dissolve to grainy '50s propaganda film. We are entering
into what
is known as "The Comedy Bit."]
[Show footage of an ariel view of a stretch of highway. CUE
MUSIC: light
and jaunty.]
NARRATOR: Yes, America's burgeoning highway system has brought
a
treasured part of our national heritage into the 20th Century.
The Roads
To Selfhood have now been paved for your sightseeing and commuting
pleasure!
The Roads To Selfhood used to be rough and unyielding, with
little or no
guarantee that you would ever be able to negotiate its unforgiving
terrain.
[Show footage of a man craning his neck outside of the window
of his car,
watching haplessly as his stuck rear tire kicks back nothing but
mud. The
music is underscored by a low-pitch tone cluster.]
[Show footage of a man and a woman and their two children
driving along
in a big old boat of a car. Jaunty music returns with renewed vigor.]
WOMAN: (inspecting Triple-A road guide) It says here that
we're traveling
along the Dialectic Route.
MAN: The whodillywhat now?
WOMAN: The Dialectic Route. It says here that this road winds
up that
mountain, and that the further we go, the more spectacular and
clear the
view we get of the road we've already traveled.
NARRATOR: ...but that's not the only road to selfhood!
[Show footage of an apparently childless couple driving along
in a
convertible.]
WOMAN: Slow down, honey, or we're going to miss Dasein.
MAN: (panicking, swerving car wildly) We missed a sign! What
sign!?!
WOMAN: No, Da-sein. It says here that this route contains
sites that are
far more than merely interesting, they are the Things That Are
Most Worthy
Of Interest.
[NARRATOR: Indeed, there *are* no signs along Dasein. Just
breathtaking
views. And when the sights have all exhausted themselves, you'll
appreciate the interior of your car in a way you never have before
once
you reach the abrupt dropoff that caps the Dasein Road, shortly
before you
go plummeting to your imma^Hinent deaths.
Come alone or bring your whole family, the newly paved Roads
To Selfhood
are the national treasure that can now be enjoyed by everyone!
Yes, we're
sure you'll see it's the gift that persists and perdues in its
having-been-given-ness!]
[Music swells to a glorious climax. THE END!]
OK, so how many dozen Golden Jaffo Points do I get?
And shame on you, B. L., for making me write that stifled, unfunny bit.
> reification that you can only succeed or be considered more than
a
> waste of skin if you give in to the conformity machine.
I thought my conformity machine was a bargain at first, but
little did I
know that you pay through the nose for the repairs. I had to have
the
thing serviced three times in as many weeks, only to have the *same
problems* crop up *all three times*! Nowadays, my conformity machine
is
just an expensive paperweight.
--
"If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves
be its author and finish her.
As a nation of free people we will live
forever, or die by suicide."
-- Abraham Lincoln, 1837
"The Global Economy is a Doomsday Machine."
-- Bill Clinton, 1998
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Brechtze Meerhor)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.usenet.kooks,alt.english.usage
Subject: Re: Purpose of AUK
Date: 23 Oct 1998 23:18:16 GMT
Organization: Society for the Location of Holland on a Map
In article <70jfca$49b$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com>, beable@my-dejanews.com wrote:
> i still remember the incredible embarrassment of the chyk
> in grade 6 who thought that "yacht" was pronounced something
> like "yachett" and that there was another, different word
> which was pronounced "yot". and the word "yot" was mysteriously
> never written in any books or anything.
Toy Yacht! Toy Yacht! Toy Yacht! Toy Yacht!
> but who am i to be throwing stones? it took me quite a while
> to realise that "misled" was pronounced as "miss led". i used
> to think there was a word "misled" which was pronounced sort
> of like "miser" and meant that you had been somehow ripped off.
> and that the real "misled" meant sort of the same thing, but
> i didn't really know how to spell it, maybe it was "mislead".
> i forgot what was the exact moment when i was duly informed
> that they were the same word. and that somehow, mysteriously,
> nobody ever used the word "misled" (pronounced sort of like
> "miser")!!!1111!!!1 but it was in all the books! well not all
> of them.
We could state this as a philosophical problem and have no fun at all!
So if the young Brian Eable said "the word spelled 'misled'
is printed on
the page," would he be saying that the word that is pronounced
"misled" is
printed on the page?
(CUT TO: A cheap-looking '70s cartoon of a SCIENTIST wearing
a cape and
holding a briefcase standing before three huge words carved in
stone
suspended on three massive stone pillars. The words form the phrase
"MUST
IT BE.")
SCIENTIST: (slowly) Must... it... be?
(SCIENTIST lowers his head in near-reverential silence.)
(SFX: Flea buzzing. A black dot moves around on screen.)
(SCIENTIST attempts to maintain reverential silence as a black
dot zips
around his head, only occassionally throwing it an annoyed glance.
The
black dot finally lands on his neck and the buzzing sound stops.
After a
moment's hesitation and another annoyed glance, the scientist finally
swats the fly-- at which moment he realizes that a flea's specific
craving
for crackpot juice disproves Evolution As It Is Known. The disturbance
of
the slap has sent the stone words teetering on their pillars, and-
with at
first a cracking noise and finally a massive thwump- the words
topple over
onto the scientist, changing the order of the words to "IT MUST
BE".)
SCIENTIST: (muffled) It... must... be.
(SFX: Major cadence played on violin and banjo.)
(CUT TO: Two MUPPETS against a blue screen. A brick wall obscures
everything below their chests. The MUPPETS are honking their noses
and
chanting "yip yip yip on-HONH on-HONH.")
MUPPET No. 1 : MUPPET No. 2
:
"yip yip yip on-HONH on-HONH"
: "yip yip yip on-HONH on-HONH"
:
(the syllables "mis-" and "-led" appear on either
side of the screen
to the puzzlement of the Muppets, who inspect them for a few seconds.
The
syllables then start moving towards each other in discrete amounts,
and
the Muppets pronounce the syllables in succession separated by
as many
abians in time as there are abians between the respective syllables
in
space.)
:
"missssssssssssssss-"
:
"-lllllllllllllllled"
(And again.)
:
"missssssss-" :
"-lllllllled"
(Again.)
:
"missss-" : "-lllled"
(Again.)
:
"miss-" : "-lled"
(Again.)
:
"mis-" : "-led"
(Again.)
:
"mis-":"-led"
(Again.)
:
"mis-led"
(Again.)
"mis-led"
(expectant pause)
(Together.)
"MY-ZULD! MY-ZULD! MY-ZULD!"
(MUPPET No. 1 and MUPPET No. 2 dance around, honking their
noses and
calling out "MY-ZULD! MY-ZULD!")
(SFX: Major cadence played on violin and banjo.)
(CUT TO: Cheap looking '70s cartoon of a goalie standing before
a soccer
goal. A soccer ball strikes him in the head. After taking a few
seconds to
register the impact, the goalie examines the bruise on his head,
and then
bends over and picks up the soccer ball to examine it. He then
looks
straight at the viewer and struggles to form the words...)
GOALIE: B-b-b-beable!
(SFX: Music sting.)
This post was brought to you by the letters A, U, K and the
numbers 1 and 0.
Robert "Java Man peed in my coffee!" Caponi
P.S. The highlight of my soccer phase as a child really was
just
inadvertantly deflecting a soccer ball with my head-- evidently
to the
benefit of my team. I got many congratulations from my teammates
and my
coach claimed I was "a real man" for it. With this satisfaction,
I've just
stopped trying since.
This is my reply to Sarah Cherlin's expression
of alarm concerning the
rapid proliferation of a joke suggesting we
re-enact _The Planet of The
Apes_ upon John Glenn's return.
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Bad Experiences With Dogs)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.memetics,alt.alien.visitors
Subject: Re: I'm scared.
Date: 10 Nov 1998 04:41:12 GMT
Organization: The Land Where Magic Is Still Real
In article <364403ff.37330308@news.earthlink.net>, scherlin@2cowherd.com wrote:
> On November third, there were ten verified occurrences.
> On November fourth, an estimated eighteen hundred separate incidences.
> On November fifth, twenty-four hundred.
BTW, none of you remembered my birthday. *sulk*.
> As of 12:00am November seventh pacific time, the total stands
at an
> estimated six thousand nine hundred messages containing the words
> 'Glenn', 'ape', 'statue', and 'liberty.' Prior to November third,
zero
> matches. Occurrences in email, ICQ or other forms of direct
> communication cannot be estimated.
>
> Oh, sure, it's harmless, you think. Funny, even. Maybe you even
passed
> it on yourself. But realize: people are _still posting it_. Something
> about this so-called 'joke' is causing people, _compelling_ people,
to
> transmit it to every other person that they possibly can. Are
we to
> belive that an ordinary individual simply stumbled across a meme
of
> this power? Can it be mere coincidence that the meme incorporates
> instructions for humanity to tear down the symbols of our
> technological society and make ourselves like unto our animal
> ancestors, so that we may greet an elder returning from stars?
>
> Has anyone seen Andrea Chen lately?
>
> I'm scared.
[SFX: Rapid typing and heavy breathing.]
[Display intense close-up of a shifting human eye in which
the reflection
of a computer screen can be seen. Fade to black.]
[Display close-up of fingers typing at a keyboard. Cut away
for a
fraction of a second to dramatization of early man dragging a slain
antelope along the ground. Fade to black.]
[Typing and heavy breathing sounds cease. Display intense
close up of an
eye looking around in puzzlement, horror. Fade to black.]
[SFX: A deafening onslaught of erratic string glissandos.]
[Montage of shots from all angles of hundreds of newsgroup
thread titles,
all of which are minor variations of 'THIS IS THE PLAN (fwd)'.]
VOICE OVER: A malicious meme is loosed onto the internet and
there's only
one woman who can stop it...
[ANDREA CHEN standing in front of a large video screen addressing
audience at press conference.]
ANDREA CHEN: As this computer-generated diagram of the John
Glenn meme's
core engram nexus illustrates, it is the deep structure of this
meme that
makes it the singularly most insidious ever to cross our paths.
[Video screen displays a spectacular computer rendering of
what appears
to be a hyperspatial spiral galaxy in motion. The center of the
galaxy is
labeled "THIS IS THE PLAN". Various eddies and other formations
that
appear to be spiral galaxies in and of themselves have lines drawn
towards
them indicating them as "NASA", "Charlton Heston", "Cornelius",
&c.]
VO: ...before it stops civilization!
ANDREA CHEN: Almost as if by design, this meme is poised to
collapse
civilization as it is known if left unchecked.
[Video screen displays footage of abandoned hotel being imploded
dissolving to dramatization of monkey factions warring.]
VO: Andrea Chen as Andrea Chen...
ANDREA CHEN: What the Center for Memetic Studies has done
under contract
from an unnamed four-letter agency is to release a one-generation
counter-meme that will effectively cover the entire internet in
a thin,
temporary layer of a semantic foam of sorts, suffocating the John
Glenn
meme in its breeding grounds before it can contaminate the rest
of the
world.
[Video screen displays hypergalaxy being innundated with scrubbing bubbles.]
VO: ...with Martin Landau...
CONCERNED REPORTER: (takes to standing) But what if this counter-meme
somehow lasts more than one generation? Enough of this 'semantic
foam', as
you call it, could permanantly quash *any* intelligent discussion
on the
internet forever!
VO: ...and introducing, for the first time ever anywhere,
The Avacado
Avenger in a phoned-in performance YOU WON'T FORGET.
[ANDREA CHEN and other Kibologists and neu-neutopians in a computer lab.]
ANDREA CHEN: Advanced Memetics Theory, pace Andrea Chen, tells us...
[Insert grainy snapshot of The Avacado Avenger.]
THE AVACADO AVENGER: (over panache of hiss and static) Advanced
Memetics
Theory!?! Sounds hard!
ANDREA CHEN: (looking off-screen) Yes, it is. In fact, Advanced
Memetics
Theory has proven that it is the hardest subject in the world.
The reasons
why are anything but obvious.
VO: The movie Siskel and Ebert gave two thumbs up...
[Footage of giant winged insectoid creature lunging towards
Mira Sorvino
in subway station.]
VO: ...with a few minor script changes so we could bring you
a movie as
timely as today's headlines...
[Footage of John Glenn waving and smiling as he exits Discovery.]
VO: MEMETIC
[Cue graphic:
#### #### ######### ####
#### ######### ######### ### ######
##### ##### ######### #####
##### ######### ######### ### ##########
###### ###### ###
###### ###### ###
### ### #### ####
### ##### ### ####### ### ##### ###
####### ### ###
###
### ### ### ####### ###
### ### ####### ###
### ###
### # ### ###
### # ### ###
### ### #### ####
### ### #########
### ### #########
### ### ##########
### ### #########
### ### #########
### ### ######
]
VO: This time, it's not just ones and zeroes!
[Closeup of alarmed, panting ANDREA CHEN.]
ANDREA CHEN: Plan to... SAVE... the... INTERNET... rapidly...
blowing UP
in... own face!
[Orchestra hit tapers off to low strings. Fade to black.]
Robert "I originally misspelled 'diagram' as 'diafram'. A
more (tee hee)
HYSTERICAL misspelling is not to be found!" Caponi
PS: I originally wanted to make fun of Mimic, but, really,
who has the
time? They should show it in film schools as an example of how
NOT to
direct a film. Five thousand BRTs to anyone who can spoof Mimic
the way it
is BEGGING to be spoofed.
This is the post that won _Best Extended Prose
or Script Format Epic
Adventure_ in Kibo's ARK Contest for September
1998-- a fact made even more
surprising considering its Date: header.
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Brechtze Meerhor)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: Re: Code Adam at Wal-Mart
Date: 31 Aug 1998 23:29:11 GMT
Organization: Dead Bodies Floating In Space
[CUE MUSIC: Some lovely French chanson augmented with lots
of bright
pitched percussion.]
[CUE FILM: Grainy and super-saturated]
[Close up of a sign reading "Welcome to Quebec". Camera pulls
back and
swivels around to reveal a charming village and is slowly dolleyed
through
the cobbelstone village square at hip level. Twenty Leslie Caron
clones
riding bikes in single file- each with a baguette- come into view,
and are
soon circling the camera counter clockwise in an elaborate, interweaving,
Galaga-like formation. The camera rotates clockwise, looking slightly
upwards and taking in all the wonderment. Just as will-o'-the-wisp
as the
formation had come into being, it dissipates as each Leslie Caron
takes
off in her own direction and disappears into the maze of equally
quaint
yellow chateaus. The camera's rotation winds down and we resume
our slow
advance. It soon becomes clear that we are heading towards an open
window
in one of the yellow chateaus. It appears at first to be pitch
black
inside, but as we slowly pass through the window, we catch a glimpse
of a
computer screen partially eclipsed by a head. The camera continues
advancing until the computer monitor occupies the entire field
of vision
and we see the text:
>
Tempted to go to Wal-Mart now, call a
>
Code Adam, and insist that all the
>
good-looking kids are mine.
]
[The music is abruptly cut off.]
[The camera swings around 180 degrees to reveal it is ETIENNE
ROUTTE at
the computer. ETIENNE ROUETTE drapes his fingers over his mouth
in an
expression of alarm.]
ETIENNE ROUETTE: Oh, dear, Kibo's GONE TOO FAR!
ETIENNE ROUETTE: (now pounding his fists on his desk) Kibo's GONE TOO FAR!
[The screen image is suddenly quartered, ETIENNE now occupying
the
lower-left hand corner. In the upper left corner of the image,
we see NICK
BENSEMA sitting at his computer in profile. Behind him is a window,
and
through the window we see a barren desert whose trackless expanse
is
punctured only by a single giant saguaro cactus. In the upper right
corner
is seen Joe Bay sitting at his computer. To his left is a claustrophobic
rabbit cage with two rabbits crammed in. Joe Bay is so obviously
disgusted
with what he has read that he is oblivious to the fact that one
of his
rabbits is chewing off the other rabbit's balls. In the lower right
hand
corner we see David Pacheco reading Usenet to himself via a poorly
ventriloquized banana dolphin for whom he has neglected to carve
a mouth
(because this one talks through a computer.) As he hits upon the
offending
sentence, he is so visibly shocked that his banana dolphin drops
to the
floor.]
ETIENNE ROUETTE: )
NICK BENSEMA: \
> (pounding their fists) Kibo's GONE TOO FAR!
JOE BAY: /
DAVID PACHECO: )
[Each cell in turn is quartered, and twelve more Kibologists
join the
four Kibologists on screen in pounding their fists and crying "Kibo's
GONE
TOO FAR!" Repeat process six more times until all 65,536 Kibologists
the
world 'round are on screen, crying "Kibo's GONE TOO FAR" and ponding
their
fists. We discover- to our horror- that the composite image created
by all
the tens of thousands of images of Kibologists at their computers
is the
is the visage of Kibo himself. As they pound their fists, they
give the
Kibo movement; as they repeatedly cry "Kibo's GONE TOO FAR", the
beating
created by their chants going in and out of phase give the Kibo
voice.]
KIBO: Why are these walls so... dingy? It looks like somebody
took off
their shirt and... rubbed their dirty body all against them.
[The image of Kibo dissolves to static and his voice trails
off into a
growing swell of white noise. The static remains on screen for
five
minutes.]
[SFX: the turning of a television knob.]
[CUE MUSIC: complete silence]
[FOOTAGE: Lots of time-elapsed shots of flowers blooming á
la _The
Man Who Saw Tomorrow_.]
[CUT TO: A YOUNG MAN and a YOUNG WOMAN traipsing joyfully
through open
fields. In the distance, we see what appears to be the smoldering
remains
of what was once a city.]
[CUT TO: YOUNG MAN and YOUNG WOMAN lying down in the field,
laughing as
they tickle eachother's noses with flowers.]
[CUT TO: YOUNG MAN and YOUNG WOMAN carving their heart-encircled
names
into an old American Beech tree.]
NARRATOR: (who comes out of nowhere and scares the doody out
of everyone
when his voice starts up) "Yes, we might have some serious economic
problems, but I believe humanity in the end will pull through."
[YOUNG MAN and YOUNG WOMAN, evidently pleased with their work, clear the shot.]
NARRATOR: That, my friends, was said by none other than Lee Shelton Bumgarner.
[Zoom in to reveal that it is "Lee+Valerie" carved in the beech tree.]
NARRATOR: THE END!
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Mark Twain: A Dialogue)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: Re: Literal-minded.
Date: Sat, 19 May 2001 02:52:41 -0500
Organization: cult of the retardo-dome
In article <Xns90A57BAB128CDbrowse0tron@209.155.56.97>,
crgre+usenet@newsguy.com (Crgre Jvyyneq) wrote:
> US TEEVEEMINDCONTROL CYCLE OF LIES:
(Cue high-energy rock music)
(Lead singer sings in optimistic tones...)
He's Jonny Spartico,
He's tearin' down the lies,
He's challenging your preconcieved notions,
So you better not believe those lies...
(Mr. Weatherly is watering his garden)
WEATHERLY: My, what a beautiful day God has given us.
SPARTICO: D00D YOU"RE GOD IS A TOOL USED BY THE POWERS THAT
BE TO MAKE
THE OPPRESSED CONTENT WITH THEY"RE PLIGHT!!!
(Awkward silence.)
(Singer resumes...)
Level everything, level everything,
and anything not left standing,
shouldn't have been there in the first place...
(Mrs. Anders cradles her swollen belly)
ANDERS: And I've been listening to Mozart so that my unborn baby...
SPARTICO: ...YOU"RE "UNBORN BABY" SHARES A SIMILAR PHYS^H^H^H^HFIS^H^H^H
IS ALOT LIKE A REPTILE I HEARD SOMETIMES
FETISES ARE JUST THESE NESTS
OF TEETH AND HAIR!!!
(Awkward silence.)
(Singer resumes...)
From his long flaxen hair...
(Show Jonny Spartico dancing over a blue-screened image of the firmament.)
...to his big penis...
(Continue showing Jonny Spartico dancing.)
...he's tearing down your lies, old man,
and he's a GENIUS!!! (Eb Maj! Eb Maj!)
(Mr. Glass offers Jonny a bagel with cottage cheese.)
GLASS: Would you like a cottage cheese bagel, Jonny?
SPARTICO: D00D I WENT TO THE COTTAGE CHEESE FACTORY ONCE AND
THE PEOPLE
ON THE CONVEYOR BELT TOOK EACH WHEEL OF
CHEESE AND RUBBED IT ON
THEY"RE BUTT IF YOU KNEW HOW IT WAS MADE
YOU WOULD NEVER NEVER NEVER
EAT IT!!!
(Awkward silence.)
(Singer resumes...)
Your mind is locked with bigotry,
and Jonny Spartico's your key.
He'll show you how brainwashed you are,
Jonny Spartico will set you free.
Jonny Spartico's in lovvveeee...
(The drum solo begins here)
(Cue title: "World's most infuriating love scene.")
(Show girl with one hand placed on school desk dancing seductively,
arhythmically in front of Jonny Spartico.
All other students are
suspended in time.)
(Zowie zoom in on Jonny Spartico's face saying "Wow!" Guitar
makes
expressive "whrrroowww-whrow" noise.)
(Girl continues dancing seductively with one hand placed on the desk.)
(Zowie zoom in on Jonny Spartico's face saying "Yes!" Guitar
makes
expressive "whrrroowww-whrow" noise.)
(Continue for fifteen minutes. Fade to black.)
(Sullen acoustic guitar coda begins.)
On his way to a rally,
he crashed his car into a tree.
Now we have to say goodbye
to the boy who set us free.
Pinned but fully aware,
his Miata came aflame,
Poor Jon died
in a universe of pain.
Universe of pain! Universe of pain!
Here's hoping I'm not pinned when the auto comes aflame.
Universe of pain! Universe of pain!
Here's hoping I don't die in a universe of pain.
The best that we could hope for them,
is that they've been spared the pain,--
spared by smoke inhalation,
the pain of the injustice of the travesty of
death by immolation.
What paroxysms of terror crush my
frail figure as I contemplate
death by immolation.
--
Don't believe the dental hygine LIE!!!
• Twidn
• http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/twidn.html
• Krafft-Ebing • http://www.nr.infi.net/~tagutcow/krafft.html
I'm high on elderly abuse!
From: tagutcow@nr.infi.net (Brechtze Meerhor)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tito,alt.religion.kibology,alt.politics.jaffo
Subject: Re: Run Away!!
Date: 28 Sep 1998 10:54:37 GMT
Organization: Levittown: Legacy of Shame
In article <6um9h7$f0q$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com>, froggy@neosoft.com wrote:
> I bugged out of town to one of the nail-holes in the Bible-Belt,
high
> and dry and away from the big storm. It's usefull to remind
myself that
> there are still places near New Orleans where the Supermarkets
do carry
> beer, but you are not allowed to purchace it on Sundays.
Also, the
> condoms are still kept behind the counter, and one must ask the
intimidating
> old lady if one wishes to purchase any.
(CUT TO: ENRAGED DIXIECRAT seated at desk.)
ENRAGED DIXIECRAT: (quickly rising from seat, knocking chair backwards)
This ahticle is say-LAY-shuss! (pounds both fists on table.)
>
Ah, longing for illegal alcohol
> and needing to screw up one's courage and harden one's resolve
(IYKWIM)
> before trying to buy usefull latex products. It brings back my
mid teens.
(CUT TO: ENRAGED DIXIECRAT dousing a copy of Froggy's article with
gasoline and lighting it with a match, attempting to create a mini-bonfire
on his desk. The set catches on fire.)
> Since the weather is still clear here, I took an excursion to
look at the
> local Indian mounds. Quite impressive. The Park has a Missisippian
> glyph as their logo. While I could make some educated guesses
as to
> it's meaning from my knowledge of MesoAmerican and S.Western
Indian
> iconography, I prefered to ask the park ranger/gatekeeper/postcard-seller
> the meaning of said logo. She told me, "Nobody knows. The
Indians
> all disappeared mysteriously, and nobody know anything about
them".
> Periodendofdiscussion.
> Presumably it is upsetting to the current inhabitants to contemplate
> that this area was once home to a vibrant culture with aspirations
> of civilization.
>
> With 30 inches of rain predicted, the wisdom of "The Mound Builders"
> is demonstrated once again.
>
> And I bet they let people drink on Sundays.
I must say, Froggy, never in my life have I seen a non-point
quite so
spectacularly NOT MADE. If you're nostalgic for the days when we
were all
Native Americans back before the Evil White Chirstians who all
look like
James Cromwell galloped into town and took away our firewater,
condoms and
safe, legal abortions purely out of spite, well- hey!- take a number--
it's just that perhaps we would be able to better appreciate your
overspiced Gumbo of Blame were it not served cold.
Otherwise, keep up the good work!
Look away, Look away,
Dixie Styx
From: tagutcow@earthlink.net (Tripping in Tempur Fields)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology
Subject: shouting through my yawns
Organization: no experts were consulted in the making of this post
Date: Mon, 21 Jun 2004 06:33:08 GMT
[SCENE: ROBERT CAPONI sitting in a chair in a job interview waiting
room, looking fidgety.]
INTERVIEWER (entering through office door) Errr... (looking at
notepad) Robert... Caponi?
ROBERT: (bolting up and offering bold handshake) Hello, Mr. Steven
Francis Donnell Patrick Cavanaugh. I was just admiring
your art.
How's the missus Cavanaugh? I'm pumped! Let's rock
'n' roll!
INTERVIEWER: (leading ROBERT into office and closing door behind
him)
You've been bumped up because the interview before
you was in a
traffic accident on her way here. Suffice to say she
wanted to
avoid being a little late, but instead ended up a
little... dead.
ROBERT: (taking a seat in large swivel chair and propping up legs)
It's a crying shame, I heard she had a real... *banging*
body!
(bad Cryptkeeper impression) Eh heh heh!
INTERVIEWER: Ha ha! (slams hands on table) Okay, let's stop beating
our gums, pony boy, sooner or later we're going to
have to snap
on those opera gloves and get down to business. First
question: Are
you Black?
ROBERT: No.
INTERVIEWER: Good start! What is your highest level of completed
education?
ROBERT: Errr... high school. Well, I went to a progressive high
school. We weren't given letter grades, we were judged
on school
spirit. And they never gave us diplomas either; at
graduation, we
were given a sheet of paper that said "Fantastic Kid!"
Something
I noticed but didn't say was that my "Fantastic Kid!"
had five
exclamation points after it and most of my friends
only had three
or four.
INTERVIEWER: I see you have have a gap in your work history from
the
time you were born to the present time. How do you
explain this
27 year gap?
ROBERT: I so hated my parents and everything they stood for that
I
renounced possessions and all worldly measures of
success and lived
with my parents.
INTERVIEWER: But you're looking for a job now?
ROBERT: Yes. But now the bottleneck isn't so much a lack of
motivation as it is my complete absence of employable
skill.
INTERVIEWER: You do realize your lack of a job history won't be
very
attractive to employers?
ROBERT: Would you believe it's no less repellant to the ladies?
INTERVIEWER: Do you have any special skills or talents?
ROBERT: Ummm... I'm a quick learner-- a trait which should...
INTERVIEWER: ...a trait which should give you an edge over any Irish
setters who might be applying. You need new material,
Robert. What
other special skills do you have?
ROBERT: Ummm... self-sucker.
INTERVIEWER: Please explain...
ROBERT: I can suck my own cock.
INTERVIEWER: Any others?
ROBERT: Ummmm.... no... I don't think... Oh! Of course!
INTERVIEWER: What's that?
ROBERT: Nothing. it's just that the jumble word I couldn't get today
was 'scarab'. Nope, no special skills here!
INTERVIEWER: I'm sorry, Robert, I don't think there's a place for
you
here. You see, our establishment isn't just some place
with
flourescent lighting and unexplained bluebottle flies,
it is a
place where the highest standards of excellence are
upheld.
ROBERT: Well then I would be much obliged if you would point me
in
the direction of the rung that is still lower than
this, as I'm
experiencing great difficulty in finding it.
=''' TWIDN • http://home.earthlink.net/~tagutcow
c oo email • tagutcow@earthlink.net
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