It was reported in late February that a man’s Jack Russell terrier ate his owner’s penis. The man, who was surprisingly not from Florida (he was actually German), was reportedly rushed to the hospital when he awoke sans important equipment. Though, in fairness, the man was 66 years old so the importance of this equipment has surely faded. Not that he didn’t need it. I’m just saying that this situation would have been much more tragic if the man were 26.

Anyway, the story goes that neighbors alerted the police after they heard the dog’s incessant barking at 2am. When first responders arrived, they heard loud groans coming from the interior of the man’s apartment. Which tracks, because the man was missing his penis. And that is not exactly something that a person would misplace. Frankenstein might, I suppose. Assuming Frankenstein has a penis. Since there is a Bride of Frankenstein I think we can assume that he does.

Getting back to Germany, EMS broke down the man’s door to find him writhing on the ground next to his barking dog (gloating, it appeared, over his penis snatching). The penis-less man was rushed to the hospital where he was put into an induced coma. His penis was never found.

However, it appears that the Jack Russell terrier has been falsely accused. Much like dogs eating someone’s homework, the terrier was a convenient scapegoat for the misdeeds of a human being. While the culprit has not been found, police now say that the penis severing had a human perpetrator.

“The man, we now know,” said the local constable, “was Bobbitted.”

He did not say that. But he sure as hell would have if he had only would have had the nuts to do so. Maybe his dog got to him. Not that Germans are known for their sense of humor. Though the word “wienerschnitzel” is sort of funny. And loosely appropriate given the current subject. Regardless, the dog, like a Aryan Lassie, was only trying to help his owner.

“Lassie, get help. My penis has gone missing.”

“Woof! Woof!”

Of course, this is the problem in the modern world. Misinformation. That dog is lucky he wasn’t euthanized by a crowd of angry penis-rights people.

“What do we want?”

“Intact penises!”

“When do we want them!”

“Now!”

This was from the original German. So, it’s possible that something was lost in translation.

Reportedly, there were counter-protestors. No doubt lesbians and other man-hating types who have no need for penises. Or priests. I suppose they could have been really dedicated dog-lovers. It doesn’t really matter.

The upshot is that a scurrilous rumor was made up about this poor dog. And he has no recourse, even though he has been exonerated by the local police. As of yet, the culprit remains at large, a fact that surely puts a chill into the genitals of Germans everywhere. The official theory of the police is that the penis-separation incident was either a crime or a sex accident. I’m not sure Columbo will be following up on this one. My advice is to look for the jilted lover carrying a knife.

“Did you know the suspect?”

“Yes. We were lovers.”

The German cop rubs his chin with his thumb. “Hmmmm. Jilted lover?”

The ex-lover rolls his or her eyes. (We can’t make any assumptions here.) “Yes. I suppose you could describe me as jilted.”

“Hmmmmm.” More chin rubbing. “You wouldn’t happen to have a knife with you, would you?”

In other news, in 2012 a 61-year-old Austrian man was attacked by a loose dog who bit the man’s genitals off.

“Nein, hund! Nein, hund! Nein, nein, neinnnnnn!!!!”

This story brings up an interesting question. What is with German-speaking people and dogs? Are these dogs taught to “sic balls,” much like the junkyard dog in Stand by Me? Or, are Germans inherently abusive towards their dogs, creating some sort of animosity in their supposed best friends? In fairness, I have no idea about what the statistics are, world-wide, on genital eating dog episodes. I would look on the Internet, but I’m pretty sure I’d end up with a computer virus before you could say “Jack Russell.”

You’ll be pleased to know be pleased to know that the Austrian man, after a several-hour operation, had his genitals saved.

I like happy endings.

The title of this post could be construed a number of different ways. It could be about bowling, for example. Or feral cats. Perhaps it could be a Cheers retrospective, and one I would be curious to watch. But it is about tornadoes.

If you weren’t aware, the US is the King of the World when it comes to tornadoes. And it isn’t even close. We blow everyone else out of the water. Pow!! Munchkins and little black dogs for everyone. As a sidebar, should the Munchkins really be so happy when the Wicked Witch of the East gets house-crushed? Given the fact that her angry, green sister is still around, their glee seems a bit premature. But Munchkin is inscrutable. Though welcoming. Directional witches excepted.

While glued to the Weather Channel, I often find I am fascinated by tornadoes. You take a little warm air, a little cold air, get some wind shear and Wallah!! Trailer homes can fly. Interestingly, tornadoes hit the same states year after year. Even more notably, these states are almost exclusively conservative. Oklahoma, Texas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas- all commonly are hit by tornado outbreaks. There are scientific explanations for this phenomenon.

However, in my opinion it is because these people hate drag shows. In fact, the percentage of drag show haters in a state correlates directly with the number of tornados that strike a state. Don’t believe me? When is the last time Rhode Island got hammered by an EF5? Never. They have only had 20 recorded tornadoes since 1787 and none of the bigger than an EF2. I should call Joe Rogan with this information. Perhaps he will have me on his podcast. If it goes well, I will run for President. Only in America. Though once I become President I will never travel to any of those tornado-attracting states. Fly over only. Besides, I’ve listened to “Choctaw Bingo.” Other than the cousins part its a pretty bleak description of the area.

Helen Hunt was really rolling when she made Twister. Then she basically disappeared a few years later. What happened? Who knows? Your guess is as good as mine. But since I am running for public office, I get precedent. Thus, I imagine she was kidnapped by a bunch of Munchkins. Not real Munchkins. Kidnappers dressed as Munchkins. Little people. Maybe a short juvenile delinquent or two . In fairness, she was really popular. The Munchkins probably thought she could be ransomed for a lot of money. But, as noted earlier, Munchkins often don’t think ahead very well and Hunt’s career pretty much cratered after 2000. Too bad. She was a decent actress, in my expert opinion.

On the other hand, I hate Paul Reiser. Not as much as the group Steely Dan, but certainly in that category. The only decent thing Reiser was ever in was Aliens and he plays the villain in that one. Luckily, the alien takes care of him in violent fashion. Which makes me wonder, who would win in a fight- the alien or the Wicked Witch of the West? I guess that is not pertinent to the conversation. They are both green is why I was thinking about it. Unlike the state bird of Rhode Island, which is the Rhode Island Red.

Rhode Island Reds hate tornados. That’s why they live there.

I guess Paul Reiser was also in The Boys. He sullied an otherwise fine show. Paul Reiser is the Jar Jar Binks of The Boys. Though in fairness to Jar Jar Binks, the kid who played Anakin was the Paul Reiser of child actors.

Somebody should have dropped a house on him. Of course, it would have missed him. The Force and all.

Not long ago, but in a different time, gambling was considered a vice. It was the domain of organized crime, run by guys name Bugsy and Pretty Boy and Scarface. It was also very lucrative. Vices often are. They don’t give cocaine away, after all. Though we would probably be a much more productive country if they did. Regardless, nobody of character and standing condoned gambling- at least not in public. Preachers railed against it from the pulpit and politicians waved adamant fingers at the prospect of its legality. Certainly, little old ladies everywhere were against it. Though little old ladies are notorious for being against most things, other than crocheting and Wheel of Fortune. The old women love Vanna and Pat. Spin the wheel and take your chances! Hmmm. Anyway, gambling was bad. I watched Eight Men Out. Poor Shoeless Joe, wrongly accused. And poor Pete Rose- rightly accused, but ironically given the present gambling zeitgeist. Baseball is full of tragedy.

Regardless, gambling bad. Until some people started thinking about how much money gambling was generating. After all, was it fair that Bugsy and Scarface were cashing in and honest, upright citizens were not? Clearly, it was not fair as lotteries began to spring up everywhere.

Ah, the lottery, a true American experience when legions of math-idiots throw their money away on tickets to prosperity. To justify this fleecing of the statistically ignorant, states give some of the lottery money to good works like education and property tax relief. That sounds nice. Of course, economist Tim Smeeding from UW-Madison’s La Follette School of Public Affairs says in many cases, people from poor communities are spending 8-9% of their total incomes on lottery tickets. But who cares about those poor folk? Nobody put a gun to their head.

Anyway, as noted above, at least the lottery wasn’t like sports gambling. That was really bad. People went to jail left and right over it. But then everybody decided to legalize sports gambling and put commercials on tv. Then it was awesome! Besides, they put a little blurb on the bottom of the screen when advertising – Have a Gambling Problem? And then they give the viewer a number to call if the answer to this question is “yes.” They do this because everyone with a gambling problem immediately calls that number so they stop gambling. After all, gambling sites definitely want gamblers with gambling problems to stop gambling. Why wouldn’t they?

Our country’s newfound love affair with gambling reminds me of another movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. I’m speaking of the part of the movie where George had never been born. You remember, “maybe it would be better if I’d never been born.”

And Clarence says “You’ve got your wish.”

Because George is such a dumbshit he doesn’t value the life that has been given him. And then his little brother drowns after going through thin ice. Apparently, being a dumbshit runs in the Bailey family. Certainly, Uncle Billy is a dumbshit. If only that SOB hadn’t stopped to gloat at Mr. Potter’s. Genetics don’t lie, I suppose.

I digress. After George is removed from the universe, the aforementioned Mr. Potter has no one to thwart his nefarious schemes. And one of Potter’s first schemes is to rename Bedford Falls as Pottersville and to turn the newly-monickered town into a den of gambling and other iniquity. (It’s not often that you see the words Zeitgeist and iniquity in one blog. You’re very welcome.)

Wooooo! And what fun all that gambling and drinking and whoring is. Whoooooo!!!!

“Get me, I’m giving out property-tax relief!” Pottersville is booming. Though on the wall behind the bar there is a poster that says the following:

Got a Gambling Problem? Call 555-1468.

The only catch is that Potter owns the gambling rehab as well. He is such a shrewd bastard. First, taking the eleven thousand dollars from the witless Uncle Billy and now this. Somebody should name the library after him. The library where George’s not-wife now works. Because George was the only man in the whole county who would have her. My guess is she had some sort of venereal disease or something. I mean, she was a pretty good looking young woman. Why else would she remain an old maid? Unless she was an inveterate gambler, which is a real possibility in the George-less universe.

Since I am thinking about the movie, I realize that among its many themes It’s a Wonderful Life is an early proponent of the Many Worlds theory of existence. Without boring the reader too much, just watch the movie Butterfly Effect. It will tell you everything you need to know. Alright, I’ll take a little time.

You see, quantum physics tells us that the entire universe relies on probabilities. Like, there’s this cat and he is owned by Schrodinger and the cat is in a box. I’m not sure why. Maybe Schrodinger is traveling. Maybe he is going to kill the cat. And that’s the point. We don’t know if the cat is alive until we open the box. Until then the cat is just a probability wave that collapses the minute there is an observer. Heavy shit. If you have watched the movie, the person Mr. Gower poisons could be the cat. Provided they live in a box.

The overarching point is that no matter what Einstein says, god does play dice. And that is why we have legalized basically all forms of gambling.

Because it is god’s will.

More points to ponder for the thinking person. You can read it, too.

Masturbation

I just read a book where the guy has an aneurysm while masturbating.  This story should never have been told.  At the very least, it is a tale that falls one character short of the minimum. Take some time and think. You’ll get it.

Hitler

Do you wonder if Hitler ever wore blue jeans?  I have never seen a picture of him in anything but his uniform.  Then again, I have never seen a picture of Janis Joplin sober.  I can hear Eva Braun now. 

“My, Adolph, your ass looks nice in those Wranglers.”

Hitler replies, “Are you almost done in there?  I’ve really got to go.”

This joke only makes sense if you read the previous post.

Aging

The sucky thing about getting old is remembering all the times you laughed about other people being as old as you are now.  If you are young, you can feel free to laugh at that statement.  However, you should know your time is coming.  And it is not very nice for you to laugh like that.  That is why I will be blocking off the dairy aisle from you.

Some Truths

Trekkies rarely, if ever, contract venereal disease.

Hillbillies don’t drive Hyundais.

Fat people don’t get that way by not eating.

They are, however, less irritating than people with 26.2 stickers on the back of their Hyundais.

Politics

When I was a kid, I assumed the people who run the country are our best and brightest.  In fairness to the wee me, that is pretty much what I was told.  As the years passed, I thought everyone had lied to me.  Then the Republicans ran Sarah Palin and I realized no one could tell that ridiculous of a lie and still keep a straight face.  I mean, Sarah Palin was downright dangerous.  Look at the rise in aneurysms in Republican households.  That is a lot of blind people. 

Also, do you remember when Sarah Palin seemed bad? Hahahahaha.

Parkour

Parkour is where young, spry guys with floppy hair jump from building to building.  Kind of like Spider Man without the actual powers.  I can see no merit in this activity and refuse to condone it.  And I never see any of these guys wearing jeans, either.  Usually they wear those long shorts halfway down their ass.  Don’t condone that, either.  I would go crazy if I didn’t wear a belt.  It just feels weird.

Mount Everest

As you may have heard, Mount Everest is the tallest mountain in the world.  It is 29035 feet above sea level at its peak.  Thus, it is considered a big deal in some circles to climb to the top.  Not in Sherpa circles, however.  They climb it all the time.  It is their job.  A few people die climbing Mount Everest every year.  Usually they freeze.  Sometimes they take a spectacular tumble.  I think I’d rather take a tumble.  If you freeze, they leave you there for later mountaineers to walk around.  And you aren’t a symbol of courage in the face of death. You are just a failure.  Plus, the Sherpas probably make catty remarks about all the dead people on the mountain because they are so bored with going up and down. 

Wardrobe Choices at Rock Fest

Rock Fest is a festival of rock music in Cadott, Wisconsin.  Pretty clever, huh?  Anyway, bands come and play in a field and people watch them and get drunk.  These people who watch the bands also forget what they look like.  Rock Fest is full of middle aged men walking around in shorts with their shirts off.  Apparently, they do not have any self-image problems.  If you go to Rock Fest, you will wish they did.  And how many guys got barbed wire tattoos around their biceps in the 90’s?  About as many as women with tramp stamps.  If you go to RockFest, pray for rain.  Unless you are a Sarah Palin enthusiast who no longer has the gift of sight.  In this case, your self immolation was prescient. 

Big Words

I’ll bet you needed to go to the dictionary for that last sentence.  I told you I have a Master’s degree in English.  I can also discuss Crime and Punishment from a Marxist perspective.  Shut up, Yoda t-shirt wearing guy. 

The Playground in Glidden, Wisconsin in 1980

I grew up in a tiny town in northern Wisconsin called Glidden.  For a variety of reasons, we had a number of behaviorally disturbed students at our school.  Think arson and animal cruelty.  Anyway, when I was in fifth grade I was standing on the playground waiting to line up at the end of recess.  Standing next to me was a 16 year old who had mental problems.  For reasons known only to him, he turned and jacked me one in the face.  Down I went.  He probably would have tried to kill me, but my friends intervened.  Later, the teacher said I should understand that my assailant had problems.  In retrospect, I realize I should have punched her in the face.  That would have been ironic- even in Canada.

Herpes Stories

As a factory supervisor, I have heard many reasons for the absence of my employees.  Twice, the reason has been herpes.  One of these times the woman started to pull down her pants to show me the extent of her problem.  I told her I would take her word for it.  Unfortunately, I did notice she was wearing a thong.  A green one.  I had never seen a green thong before.  I wonder if her boyfriend bought it for her.  That would have been a sweet gesture.  Especially if he was the one who gave her herpes.  If he isn’t the one, I have something to tell him.  And it is pretty important.

Anaconda Hunting

I watched a show on the Discovery Channel about anacondas.  If you were not already aware, anacondas are really big snakes.  Not as big as in the movie.  That was ridiculous.  So was Jon Voight being in a movie with Ice Cube and Jennifer Lopez.  He was in another river movie you know. Deliverance.  That movie was a lot scarier than Anaconda.

Anyway, biologists need to find anacondas to study them.  They do this by going barefoot and feeling around for them in vegetation thick, shallow water.  I do not have a Ph.D in biology.  If I did, I would like to think I could exercise a little better judgment.

Fast and Furious

Don’t try this in real life.  I am not kidding. 

Bridge to Terabithia

Bridge to Terabithia is a book I read as a preteen.  It seemed like a really nice story.  It was about two kids, a boy, Jesse, and a girl, Leslie, who forge a friendship over the summer.  They create an imaginary world called Terabithia where they can escape all the troubles of the real world.    Anyway, Jesse has a crush on his teacher.  One day he goes to the museum with the teacher without telling Leslie or his parents.  When he returns home, he finds out that Leslie has drowned in the creek.  This is a definite downer.  Like I say, it seemed like a really nice story.  I guess the moral of the story is don’t go chasing older bitches.  Or learn to swim.  At least Leslie didn’t turn out to be a witch in the story.

Star Wars

Like most people my age, I love Star Wars.  However, there are some holes in the storyline.  I would first like to discuss the demise of the first Death Star.  Are you really telling me that the Empire had engineers capable of making a weapon the size of a small moon, but that these same engineers were so stupid that this same weapon could be destroyed by a chain reaction through an exhaust vent?  And that is not like shooting Wamp rats, no matter what Luke says.  Also, why does the fish face alien on the command ship still have barbels?  What would he need them for now that he walks on land?  Does he still need to feel around on the bottom for his food? 

There is also the whole Luke and Leia incest thing.

Speaking of Near Incest Encounters

I was told this story by someone I know.  This someone was talking to a woman who was rather distraught over her husband’s post-divorce actions.  You see, the ex-husband was now screwing this woman’s mother.  Needless to say, the holidays will be rather awkward in this family.  On the other hand, the children won’t have to get used to their dad’s new woman.  I suppose there is a silver lining to every cloud.

What follows is an excerpt from the book, Hillbillies Don’t Drive Hyundais. Now you will really learn something. We here at MO Central abhor a lot of things, but ignorance is the biggest thing we abhor. Also, we abhor spicy food. We can’t sleep as it is. Plus, this isn’t Mexico. Even though those damned Democrats want it to be. North Mexico. Fuckers.

Anyway, back to the book.

Vampire Hookers

When I was a teenager, my brother and I rented the movie “Vampire Hookers” from the local video store.  It had one of the Carradines in it.  Probably David.  Anyway, the movie did not have much of a plot.  Don’t look up “Vampire Hookers” at work.  That can be a lot to explain away.  And adding “movie” to the search doesn’t really help.

Rabbits

Rabbits are stupid little creatures.  Every year, they come to my house and eat the flowers I have planted.  For a while, it seems as if they are everywhere.  Then I see a fox in my yard late at night.  And you know what the fox says?  He says I’m going to eat every damn rabbit in this yard.  Dang da dang da dang diddly.

Lorena Bobbitt

I often find myself wondering what happened to Lorena Bobbit?  I wonder if she is in jail or if she has a job or if she goes bowling on Wednesday night.  I especially wonder if she has remarried.  If she is remarried, I have something to tell her husband.  And it’s pretty important.

Pygmy Rattlers

I think it would suck to be bitten by a pygmy rattler.  Frankly, it would kind of be undignified.  Imagine the later conversation. 

“How did you get that hook on your left hand?” 

“Er, I got bitten by a venomous snake.”

“Holy shit!  What was it?  A cobra or a krait or a diamondback rattler?”

You look down.  “A pygmy rattler,” you say sheepishly.

Next time that happens, just tell the guy your wife, Lorena, caught you whacking off while watching Keeping Up With the Kardashians.

The Rainbow Theory of the Universe

Now some physicists are saying that there was no Big Bang and that, in actuality, the universe has no beginning.  You see, they theorize that because different light has varying wavelengths that….Why am I telling you this?  You are still trying to figure out why that guy got his hand cut off.

Jim Nabors

Why was Jim Nabors famous?  I know he had a reasonable singing voice.  Still, his fame is an indictment on that generation.  Yes, I understand that the Kardashians are a hell of a lot worse than Jim Nabors ever was.  And Jim Nabors never made a sex tape.  Imagine if he did.  Haha.  I bet you are sorry that image ever went through your head.  Probably makes you want to cut your brain out.

Hog Farming

I like ham.  So it is good that there are hog farmers.  Keep it up.

Dating

If your new girlfriend has platonic male friends, they are only guys who want to get in her pants but don’t have enough balls to make an overt attempt.  This is true if your woman is 18 or 50.  Keep this information to yourself at all costs.  Women deny this and will say you are overreacting.  They get very angry when you are proved right.

Facebook

Facebook illustrates how irritating some middle aged women become.  No one cares about their kid’s peewee hockey game.  And since when did she come to Jesus?  The last time you saw her, she was doing beer bongs in a French Maid’s outfit.  Unfriend these women immediately.  They will only make you feel old.

Old People at the Grocery Store

Old people don’t care about you.  That is why they block the aisles when they talk to each other.  There are two ways to deal with this.  Go all the way around or barrel your way through them.  My advice?  Barrel through them.  The odds are that if you go around you will just find two more just like them on the other side.  And quit wasting your energy wishing death on the elderly.  Old people are like dandelions.  There are always more.  And they hate your Smartphone.

Smartphones

The greatest thing about Smartphones is their ability to settle wagers.  Want to know who holds the record for passing yardage in one game?  Norm Van Brocklin, idiot.

Addendum to Smartphones

If you have a friend who questions the accuracy of the Internet, you need a new friend.  I hate guys like that.  Who would lie about Norm Van Brocklin’s record?  Well, Norm Van Brocklin.  But he’s so old he probably doesn’t even know what the Internet is.  Like as not, he is blocking somebody from getting to the 2 percent milk right now.  Actually, Norm Van Brocklin is dead.  You know how I knew that?  The Internet.

South Park

Quit quoting South Park.  You sound like my nephew.  Except you are way fatter.  Anyway, it is not that witty.  Except the time Cartman feeds Scott Tenorman’s parents to him in his chili.  That is a really funny one.  I like the part where Cartman says he is licking the “tears of unfathomable sadness.”

Also, quit quoting Star Trek.  And Star Wars.  And throw away that Yoda t-shirt for Chrissakes.

Caveat to Above

Any man who can score wearing a Yoda t-shirt and quoting Star Trek has my undying respect.  As long as the girl isn’t dressed as Uhura.  Also, busty video game girls don’t count.  Unless you are Japanese.  Those guys really get into that shit.

China

China is full of people who like to breed.  Nearly one and a half billion and still counting.  Pretty soon China will take over the world and populate all lands.  Then, everyone will speak Mandarin.  Mandarin is an ugly language, albeit not as ugly as German.  Every German word sounds as if it is accompanied by a bowel movement.  What we need to do is send some Japanese pornographic anime to over to China.  That will distract them from real sex.  And we won’t need to learn how to write like this:

9/# //_+==!////{{

Caveat

Those are not actual Chinese letters.  It is just a demonstration.  I don’t know any Chinese.  We speak English in America.  And Spanish.

Yaks

Yaks are dumb looking animals.  They look as if they were the inspiration for a Dr. Suess book.  I wonder if they know this.  If they did, they would be really smart.  And that would be ironic as hell.  Unlike rain on your wedding day.  Which isn’t so much ironic, as it is bad luck.  Canadians might have a different understanding of the word “ironic,” however.

ACHTUNG!

Is Adolph still on the can? I think that he might be.

When I look up at night, I marvel at the expanse before me. Planets, distant stars, the glow of the Milky Way (my favorite galaxy– fuck Andromeda). By turns, I am awed by the mystery of it all and humbled by my own insignificance. Indeed, scientists estimate that there are 100 to 400 billion stars in the Milky Way alone. Within the observable universe it is estimated that there as many as two trillion galaxies, containing more stars that all the grains of beach sand of planet Earth. While I am admittedly no math genius, that is a lot of stars. One can only imagine what may be happening in the distance reaches of the known universe. What astonishing scientific curiosities must await our discovery. And what novel forms of life. Perhaps the Daleks are really out there, menacing a real life Dr. Who.

Or not.

You see, there are many people living in our modern world who think that none of the above exists. And I am not just talking about Daleks and immortal doctors traveling in their Tardis. Take, for example, Tyler Owens, an NFL prospect from Texas (Shocking!) who matriculated at Texas Tech. During the NFL combine, Tyler said “I’m real religious, so I think we are alone right now. I don’t think there’s other planets and stuff like that.” Owens went on to add that, “I thought I used to believe in the heliocentric thing where we used to revolve around the sun and stuff. But then I started seeing flat Earth stuff and I was like, this is kind of interesting.”

Hmmm. Speaking of interesting, it appears that this young man is not alone among NFL players when it comes to his opinions on the existence of space. Jason Kelce, former Philadelphia Eagles lineman, said “you’d be surprised” how many people in the NFL believe the Earth is flat. I’m sure he is correct. Any number beyond zero people not believing in space is surprising. Well, I guess any number beyond one, given Owens’ testimony.

As might be obvious, the MO could go in a number of directions with these revelations. Certainly, one could question the effectiveness of the astronomy department at Texas Tech. But first, I will answer one of Kelce’s teammates who asked “how you know it isn’t?” in reference to speculation about the world’s flatness. Well, young scholar, you can sail (or nowadays fly in these magical vessels known as planes) clear around the world and come right back to where you started. Unbelievably, this has even been accomplished. Perhaps you have heard of a voyage led by a guy by the name of Magellan? 1519-22? He got killed in the Philippines? Maybe you haven’t heard. Well, it was big news once. Anyway, you can stand on shore and watch a boat slowly sink into the horizon.

“But how do you know the boat wasn’t eaten by a sea monster?” (I’m not sure these guys believe in sea monsters, but this is just an example).

Hmmm. An interesting question. The answer, of course, is that the boat and sailors return to boat. Ergo, they have not been eaten by a sea monster.

“But how do you know that the boat and sailors are really the same and not some demons sent by the devil to trick us into running a boat off the end of the flat Earth?”

I have to admit that this is a stumper of sorts. Damn you, demons of hell and your treacherous ways!!

Anyway, going back to the non-existence of the planets, I do find it a tad disturbing that my teachers and scientists would play this elaborate ruse on me. Apparently, telescopes are instruments of the Dark One, designed to fool a gullible public. And those planet names should have tipped me off. Your anus. That’s just a dirty joke.

When I hear people say they don’t believe in space- particularly those who have supposedly attended college courses- it tends to put a frown on my face. After all, it seems fairly obvious that there is a sun. I’m looking out of my window and there it is, just like always. And last night I could see stars and planets. Plus, we have movies called Star Wars, Star Trek, Starship Troopers, Star Man. Will these movies now require an asterisk? *Wars: A New Hope. I guess Star Wars was written and directed by Jews. Just another one of their conspiracies. Damn you, Soros. Speaking of unbelief, Jews don’t even believe in Jesus. That’s even worse than not believing in space. No wonder they are always using those space lasers.

Wait. How can that be if there isn’t any… No matter, it is time to move on.

Despite my jocular tone, I think it is important for all of us to remember that at any given time, we might be standing next to someone who thinks the moon and Mars are props painted onto a black background that is wheeled into place above us every night. Who does this wheeling? Why, angels, I suppose. What else do they have to do? They don’t eat or shit or screw. And I have never heard of angels fishing or making rap videos.

“I spend all day wheeling skies, watching out for heathens telling lies.”

That’s how angels rap. Or would. If they weren’t changing sky scenery all of the time.

Regardless, please keep in mind that there’s an election in eight short months. And that every single person who thinks space is fake has as many votes as you do.

God bless America.

If you are an American you spent four hours plus watching the Super Bowl yesterday. It’s a spectacle that encapsulates the very essence of this country. Bud Light, stripping poles, celebrity worship, two National Anthems, Reba McEntire, football, and an extra helping of Jesus. There was also a football game where one of the players is dating Taylor Swift. Perhaps you have heard. Yes, it’s the one who screamed at and then bumped his coach’s hat askew. Fiery competitor or raging maniac? It matters not. The Chiefs won the game. Kansas City rejoices. San Francisco mourns.

But speaking of Jesus, I happened to notice that he was heavily promoted during the Super Bowl. Of course, it is a trifle odd that Jesus, an anti-capitalist pacifist, would have anything to do with a game where tickets run into the thousands of dollars and the object is to knock the other man’s head off- but we will ignore this seeming mismatch. The Lord, as we all know, works in mysterious ways. Sometimes he even gets an extra point blocked so the Chiefs can cover the spread.

One of the Jesus commercials had images of people washing other people’s feet (Jesus being a notorious foot washer). All of these images were highly unlikely. A priest washing a gay man’s feet, a white man washing a black man’s feet, a rich lady washing the feet of a homeless person. Donald Trump washing E. Jean Carroll’s feet. Well, that one didn’t happen but it would surely have shown that the makers of these commercials have a sense of humor. Anyway, these commercials are targeting a younger audience who may see Christianity as somehow antiquated or intolerant of people other than white, affluent, straight people. Where young people would get that idea is anyone’s guess. The inscrutability of youth, I suppose.

As you well know, we here at the MO are all about getting to the bottom of things. So we sent out our investigative team to research the origin of these Commercials for Jesus. Actually, we did an internet search on our phone at halftime. But you weren’t going to do it.

The Jesus commercials are promoted by a group operating from Hegetsus.com. From mighty Wikepedia:

He Gets Us” is an American religious advertising campaign by the , a the Servant Foundation, a non-profit funded primarily by anonymous donors.^[1] First launched in 2022, the campaign’s stated goal is to “reintroduce people to the Jesus of the Bible“.^[2] Its campaigns are designed to cater to younger demographics and  religious skeptics via allusions to present-day social movements, with an emphasis on values such as inclusion, compassion, and “radical forgiveness”.^[2] At least US$100 million was initially spent on the campaign, which has included billboards, sponsor placements, and television commercials.

As the MO is a notorious skeptic, I investigated the Servant Foundation. It turns out that this group has donated tens of millions to a group called the Alliance Defending Freedom. This immediately piqued the Orange’s interest. Who could this mysterious group be? After all, whenever somehow uses the word “Freedom” in their name, you know they are up to no good. And the ADF does not disappoint.

The ADF is an American Christian Conservative advocacy group. And what things are they advocating for? Well, they want to expand Christian practices within public schools and in government, outlaw abortion, and curtail LGBTQ rights. Pow! There’s some sleight of hand for you. While you were watching the priest wash the gay guy’s feet, the priest was also telling the gay man that he needed to repent or risk roasting in hell for eternity. Pow! Pow!! Additionally, the ADF would like to send the gay guy to prison as they seek to criminalize same-sex sexual activity.

Apparently, the phrase “He gets us” really means that you need to adhere to a Bronze Age mythology or you will go jail- then hell. If this sounds to you like these people are a tad regressive, you are correct. In fact, in 2014 ADF literature described part of its mission as “[seeking] to recover the robust Christendomic theology of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th centuries.” Ah, yes, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th centuries. What a time to live. Disease, famine, toothless by 30. The Huns at one’s door. And who could forget the nearly complete illiteracy of the general public? But to at least some people at the ADF, this is what poses as the “good old days.”

All of these revelations make me think about advertising, propaganda, the council of Nicea in the 4th century. Look it up (I can’t explain everything). And after pondering all of these things, I only have one question. Whatever happened to the Bud Bowl? It seemed like a good thing. Remember Bud Bowl 6? This Bud Bowl featured the first appearance by a can of beer in the game. The can scored a touchdown, but was ejected from the Bud Bowl shortly thereafter for excessive celebration and foul language.

Fucking can. I had money on that game.

You know who you don’t hear much about anymore? The Winklevoss twins. You know, the guys that Zuckerberg screwed over with Facebook. Though they did settle for somewhere around 65 million dollars. If you have to get screwed over, 65 million cushions the blow. It’s not like when the company pulls a pension three years from your retirement. Now that stings a little. But the investors like it. Curiously, the Winklevosss boys are now in investments. The Screwees have now become the Screwers. There is some kind of Eastern metaphysical shit there.

Anyway, the Winklevoss boys were also rowers at Harvard. And why not? They are like 6’5 and 220 pounds. Knowing that, you have to give Zuckerberg at least a little credit. He risked his life and limb to steal Facebook away. Irritating college rowers isn’t like challenging Elon Musk to a cage match. These guys actually rowed in the Olympics. Which gives me a great idea.

Tag team cage match. The Winklevoss twins versus Zuckerberg and Musk. To the death. With four foot long sticks made from ironwood. I’ll even cut the sticks- free of charge. Seeing Mark and Elon beaten to death with sticks would easily justify the effort.

“Billionaire Beatdown!” Trademarked. TM.

Actually, ”Billionaire Beatdown” TM could become a monthly event. “Beatdown Saturday.” On Fox. I knew those lying Fox bastards were good for something. Well, in fairness, Fox also broadcasts football. Which is “Beatdown Sunday” for mostly poor people. Interesting, but nowhere near as amusing as watching Danny Bonaduce and Sean Astin take the stick to the remaining Koch brother and Clark Hunt. I added some minor celebrities to help sell it. Plus, Danny Bonaduce has a lot of anger. He should just for being such an annoying kid. Shirley Jones should have put him up for adoption. Pretty much anybody can learn to play bass.

Though I will be rooting for Danny as much as the next guy when he finally corners Clark Hunt. After the “Beatdown” TM, the other living Partridge family members can play a few songs. Everyone loves a little nostalgia with their violence. “Come on, get happy,” they can warble as the bodies are dragged from the cage.

If you are curious, there are currently 735 billionaires in the US. Eliminating them at a rate of two per month, it would take 31 years to exhaust the supply. Of course, there will be more people becoming billionaires in that time and there would always be billionaires from other countries, assuming those countries would cooperate. As long as we don’t run out of ironwood sticks, “Billionaire Beatdown” TM would last my lifetime. After that, I don’t care what you people do.

I could even put something to that effect on my headstone. “I no longer give a shit,” or some other witty, but relevant, saying. Trademarked. TM. I wanted to make sure of the trademark thing. Don’t want to get Winklevossed. That phrase is also trademarked. Get Winklevossed. TM. Unlike Taco Tuesday, which can never be trademarked.

That doesn’t bother me because I don’t eat many tacos. I really don’t like them. I’m not sure why. I mean, they have hamburger and tomatoes and salad in them. And I like all of those things separately. Plus, the shell is really just a giant, curved Tostito. I guess it is a case where the whole does not equal the sum of the parts. That’s probably more Eastern mysticism stuff. Maybe I can find a Mexican person to explain it all to me. They aren’t Eastern, but they are allegedly responsible for tacos. Though this may or may not be true. Without talking to a Mexican, I can’t be sure. The Republicans say that Mexicans are all over the place, but I hardly see any of them. I assume they are probably working. Unlike Mark Zuckerberg, who is busy having other people build him a bunker in Hawaii. Apparently, Mark thinks the world is going to hell in a handbasket and he wants a way out.

And thus we circle back to “Billionaire Beatdown.” TM.

“Give him the stick, give him the stick, give him the stick.” Also trademarked. TM. It’s a phrase that works on a number of levels and is easy to remember. T-shirts are already in the works.

If you are an ardent capitalist, you probably believe in the mantra that “the customer is always right.” Like many things ardent capitalists believe in, this mantra is asinine and only serves to debase the society we live in. But carry on. I can’t stop you. Perhaps when you sell Marx his rope you will see the error of your ways. Then again, probably not. After all, you will go out on a profit and what could be better than that? Well, there are a couple of things that spring readily to mind but this is a family-friendly venue. Thus, I will refrain from encouraging that type of talk. If the Republicans can be believed it would make you gay or trans.

Speaking of the vulgarity of capitalism, we have only recently begun our recovery from that most American of holidays, Black Friday. Though, I notice that Black Friday has been extended a tad by unscrupulous characters who would besmirch this most American of holidays by extending it into the other six days of the week. Friday hating bastards, no doubt.

Speaking of No Doubt, can you believe Gwen Stefani married that country bull shitter? Anyway, I digress.

Of course, the cynic might opine that these corporate peddlers of Black Fridayism are merely providing the masses with the succor they so desperately crave. If there is anything consumers like, it is a deal. To Mildred in Peoria there is nothing better than standing in line at Walmart at 4:30 in the morning so long as she can get her arthritic paws on that new Keurig for three dollars less that her sister-in-law, Rachel, paid for it in Chicago.

Yes, it is that Rachel. The one from Friends. She met a guy- after the inevitable divorce from sniveling Ross- and moved to a suburb of Minneapolis. New Brighton. Where, according to the overweight lady John Malkovich had to kill, there is no high school. Sometimes people die just because they are from Minneapolis. Sometimes Rachels move to Minneapolis to live with a stockbroker because their biological clocks are waning and they need to call an audible (I know she has a kid. She wanted another one. Christ.) Sometimes I have to urinate at 3:30 in the morning. Sometimes, in the last instance, meaning nearly always. Like clockwork. Since I’m already up I should do some Black Friday shopping. Though I never do. I am watching one of the Star Wars movies with the sound off. I know all the lines anyway.

“Maybe you need some more scoundrels in your life.”

“I…am your father.”

“These are not the droids we’re looking for.”

“Move along.”

“Arrgggghhhh.” That’s Chewbacca. He’s hungry for a sandwich. I mean, you never see Chewbacca eat. And he’s seven feet tall. I would guess that it takes a lot of energy to fuel a seven foot tall Space Yeti. (Another good band name. Also, an all girl band could be called Chewbecca.)

Sandwich Craving Chewbacca is another one. Chewbacca is fertile band name ground.

Rachel Wears a Bike Helmet Now. Either a band name or a song by Chewbecca.

“Rachel wears a bike helmet now…She ended up in New Brighton somehow… She’s raising kids and in the PTA…Her cool haircut and friends have all gone away.”

Ross Masturbates to Music by the Rembrandts?

I have a million band names. If only there were still some bands around. Alas, they were all killed off by Black Friday. So was Jesus. I guess that was actually Good Friday.

Same, same.

Speaking of deaths there is a website called Black Friday Death Count. (Yet another band name.) According to the site, at least fourteen people have died and 124 have been injured in Black Friday-related incidents since 2006.

Apparently, a 56 year old tourist died after making the world’s highest bungee jump. This isn’t necessarily germane to today’s theme, unless “stupid ways to die” is today’s theme.

Though I am pretty sure that getting trampled to death vying for a discount XBox is a much worse way to go. On the other hand, bungee jumping fatalities reached an all time high this year. Fifty. Fifty fucking people died bungee jumping this year!

Pow Pow Pow!!!

You know they could combine bungee jumping and Black Friday. Take the plunge for even more savings!!

That catch phrase is trademarked. TM

The Big Lewbowski was on yesterday. And I spent my afternoon watching it, despite the fact that I had other things to do. Or so I imagined. However, after watching the movie for a while I realized that all of those chores and important tasks weren’t really that important. After all, the Dude has no job. He does no tasks nor chores nor pays any attention to the stock market. Yet his life is full of flavor, surrounded by Russians, and ferrets and half-crazed Vietnam vets who would as soon poke their own eyes out as let someone Tread on Them. His life is also full of bowling.

Not surprisingly, much has been made of the symbolism in The Big Lebowski. What does the movie mean? Is it a critique on the materialism that has come to dominate our modern lives? Does it reprimand the “artistic” elites who have nothing to do but make weird art and spout sophistry under the guise of wisdom? Who, or what, does Sam Elliot’s cowboy represent? Does the character Jesus- played by John Turturro- make a mockery of the real Jesus?

All interesting questions. But the answer to these questions is simple. It is nihilism. The movie says simply that nothing has a real existence. Not rugs, or pornography, or Vietnam, or modern art, or having a lot of money. There is as much joy in bowling and drinking White Russians as in any of these things. And a bowling tournament is as important in the great scheme of things as a million dollars. Maybe more so. After all, you can drop dead of a heart attack in a parking lot at any time, even while battling nihilists. Drink up.

Perhaps you are not convinced. After all, a comfortable house and health insurance seem like nice things to have. Of course, houses come with payments which mean going to work for somebody you probably can’t stand to do something that, even if you like it, brings a lot of stress to one’s life. Certainly more stress than an afternoon buzz and a few rounds of bowling. And while health insurance doesn’t hurt, we are all only one freak accident from taking that last roll to oblivion.

Before you start prattling on about purpose and gods and living one’s life for others, let me say that the movie says the Dude has a purpose. It’s just that you don’t like his purpose. He wants to bowl and drink and shoot the shit with his friends. And people like the Big Lebowski can’t stand it. Because if somebody like the Dude is happy, then everything the Big Lebowskis have been doing somehow loses its meaning. If the world was full of Dudes, there would be no Jeff Bezos. He’d be just another weird bald guy. Like Joe Rogan, but without the combat skills.

Of course, I could be wrong. Maybe the movie is really about the rise of guys like Walter Sobchak as Walter annihilates the nihilists in the end. (Say that three times fast). In that case, The Big Lebowski is prescient, foretelling of the rise of the Sobchakians, paranoid delusionals who see the use of force as the means for forwarding their Libertarian ideals. Perhaps Walter Sobchak is the New American, ready to rise from the quagmire of extremist Liberal narcissism and the emptiness borne of a materialist society.

Then again, it might just be about what a bunch of vapid, self-absorbed assholes Americans are. It doesn’t matter if someone is rich, poor, ambitious, lazy, a Veteran, a porn star, nihilist, capitalist, cowboy or Dude. Everybody is just a jackass. Just an annoying fucking jackass who can be just as happy being an unemployed drunk as a captain of industry.

Since I see Trump is leading in the polls right now, I am going with the jackass theory. And then I’m going to see if there is any Kahlua in the house. I’d piss on a rug, but my wife would kill me. You’ll notice that none of these characters are happily married.

Just a sidebar.