This Superbowl Sunday, as you’re huddling into your inflatable beer chairs with your Tostitos NachoMan helmet strapped firmly to your attentive brain cans, know this:
You are about to spend five to six hours watching an event in which you will see approximately twelve minutes of actual sport.
The rest of the time you will be a semi-conscious participant in the real event of the day. For, this day, America’s largest and most prestigious corporate advertisers will line up and attempt to sell you useless shit that you don’t need in a mind-bogglingly extravagant cavalcade of shilling.
Scientists have recently discovered evidence of an immortal species of jellyfish. Apparently these little suckers revert to an adolescent phase after mating, and can do so ad infinitum. And you laughed at me when I said I was going to live to be 400!
Take heart, friends. It is now only a matter of time before we unlock the cellular secrets inside these Holy Hydrozoans and sell their special genetic heritage in an easily digestible liquid capsule that also serves as birth control while providing instant male enhancement.
By my watch, only another 65 years or so before we are all forever-living, constantly aroused quasi-squids, living in stasis tanks with wi-fi ready electrodes hooked up to each and every tentacle.
Kudos to HG Wells for figuring this out a century ago (minus the Cialis angle).
An unending deluge of Madoff-related shit continues to hit the fan. The newest story is that Mep alma mater, Brandeis University, is planning a fire sale to compensate for a crumbling budget. And the budget deficit is primarily due to several major donors’ associations with Bernie Madoff.
This… this is sheer genius. I confess a tinge of jealousy at not coming up with this one. The concept isn’t new, as several friends have expressed a belief to me in a “female hive mind.” But the execution here is nearly perfect.
I first saw this piece as part of a Mike Judge sponsored traveling animation show in Los Angeles. It was created by The Mill, a production company that usually wastes its vast talent and resources on television commercial effects. Fortunately for the artistic world, even TV commercial producers have spare time on their hands…
I’m not a full-fledged Pastafarian, but I’m definitely a sympathizer. Below, you’ll find an old Pastafarian parable of the first true test of the One True Noodly Deity, the Flying Spaghetti Monster…
Strange yet addicting website Art of the Title features particularly eye-catching opening credit sequences. This one is from a 60s spy movie called Danger: Diabolik and it makes me want to relieve myself into my monitor.
