Archive for November, 2012

Teenager’s First Time Reconfigures Brain

  • Calls experience “Hecka Rad, Way Cool and Profoundly Filthy”
  • Vows to repeat act to the exclusion of all else
  • College likely to be a six year plan
  • Tells parents,”Mom, Dad – I’m all about bullet points now” 
  • Parents to Kyle: “Get over it already.”

    Steubenville, OH

    Hyperventilation and a stopwatch marked the first sexual congress between Kyle Galvin (age unimportant) and Sara Chambers (age very unimportant). The premeditated act went off as planned last Sunday morning while Mr. & Mrs. Galvin were attending services at St. John the Baptist Church. “I’m just beside myself,” an excited Kyle gushed after gushing. “I’m like completely a convert to reproduction now. I mean I’d heard all about it and I’d spent a lot of time practicing alone, but I never thought it’d be like this. All the time you hear about the fraying of society and the loss of community and all this disintegration stuff, but this…this is like interstellar Superglue and will bind a society together faster than American Idol or any Groupon ever could. Boy Howdy, this thing looms large in my future and will naturally cause me to straighten up and fly…well straighten up anyway. Man, I’ve got to tell everybody how good this is, although I’m probably just preaching to the choir.”  Read the rest of this entry »

Pilgrim’s Progress

Dubious representation of first Thanksgiving. Note absence of NFL game.

Why did the Pilgrims journey from England to Plymouth Rock? And more to the point, how did Americans get from Plymouth Rock to ribbed cranberry sauce thwocked onto a plate straight from the can? These are questions I hope to address one day in a thoughtful essay on the topic. Meanwhile, I hope you’ve brought an appetite for extravagant history as I serve up the rich saga of the Pilgrim’s progress featuring healthy dollops of mashed truths and stuffed with agonizing analogies. Note: For those readers on a on a sodium restricted diet I’ve written this version with the salty language removed. Read the rest of this entry »

The Supposed Troubles of Jonah Scrimshaw

Ignorance is bliss…if you’re dumb.

Jonah Scrimshaw was never too keen on the whole earthly model of “Born, live and die.” It sounded too much like a rejected state motto. He resented being subject to the karma of a world he neither asked to be born into, nor had any say in how it was run. Revolutionary thinking? Hardly. It was simply the old Colonial quarrel of “No taxation without representation,” whereby the King (God) taxes us from afar as he sees fit, and we the people (souls) have no vote (influence) on how our fate is determined. As Jonah considered the implications of this argument, his heart raced, his mood soured and he developed a supremely unhip outbreak of jazz hands. Then he thought, “Maybe it would be better if I didn’t drink a 4-pak of Red Bull so close to bed.” Read the rest of this entry »

“Say it ain’t so Joe.” Or “Kindly deny what we know to be true.”

 

Fallen Idol Joe Jackson

What began in the sports world as a deceitfully reliable method of boosting one’s athletic performance, and then sadly extended into the cycling world where previously heroic Lance Armstrong fell from his lofty saddle with an inglorious thud; has now invaded the completely mental world of writing where simple declarative sentences have given way to rambling opening sentences unlikely to conclude until the author grows weary of finding ways to extend it.

Villainy is never pretty. Lance Armstrong should know. He has left his disbelieving fans lamenting to their hero, “Say it ain’t so, Lance.” And now, easily proving that no one is immune from such temptation, a performance enhancing scandal of another kind – a prose-doping scandal – has ruffled the literary world right down to its feathery quills. Several highly regarded writers stand accused of using performance boosting drugs to enhance their stories, prompting disbelieving bookworms to lament to their heroes, “Kindly deny what we know to be true.”  Read the rest of this entry »