Newsgroups: sci.space.policy,sci.space.history,sci.space.shuttle,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: MIND CONTROL UTILIZING DIRECTED-ENERGY WEAPONS--NEW WEB SITES X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 05:43:03 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Followup-To: alt.religion.kibology In sci.space.policy, sci.space.history, and sci.space.shuttle, Carol Paliwoda (capaliwoda@netscape.net) wrote: > > MIND CONTROL UTILIZING DIRECTED-ENERGY WEAPONS--NEW WEB SITES (Meanwhile, I suppose she's posting about the Space Shuttle in alt.mindcontrol.) > Get the unvarnished truth about mind control involving > directed-energy weapons and usage in the Cleveland, Ohio, > area of the United States (and elsewhere)--so far > apparently censored by Internet search engines, so that I > have to do my own publicizing. Even the Internet seems to > involve a certain amount of censorship. Criminals who want > to control the social structure unhindered by any legal > restraints would rather relegate this report to an obscure > corner of the Internet. They have been operating avowedly > totally amoral for several decades now. Hardened criminals > flaunt their amorality mockingly in front of victims, knowing > police will not respond to complaints. YEAH! THERE OUGHTA BE A LAW AGAINST BEING ALL FLAUNTY AND STUFF!!! > They operate at close range with no serious police interference. Bring on the SILLY police interference! > The cost of secrecy is high in human suffering. "And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you go insane." I forget which Federal agency has that motto. I think it's FEMA. > The criminals being sought do nothing but manufacture radiation weapons > for the torture and destruction of humanity. As far as they are > concerned, these weapons are for them primarily brain damage, > torture, and extortion weapons Not to mention Terry Gilliam's dishwasher rack! HA! NOBODY ON THE INTERNET EXPECTS A MONTY PYTHON REFERENCE! I AM THE FIRST PERSON EVER TO REFER TO MONTY PYTHON! "NI!" <-- LOOK, I'M CLEVER! > for use in combat situations and wars of conquest--as instruments of > social control in disregard of any Bill of Rights. Positive applications > are lost. Did you look under the sofa cushions? > The objects of this "combat" are currently innocent, > unarmed American civilians in their homes, and preparations > could be underway to subject victims the world over to > further atrocities. > > > YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW !!!! > > What you don't know could literally kill you or leave you > vulnerable to total enslavement. That's only in the "Double Jeopardy" round. In the first round, Alex Trebek just insults you and refuses to share any of his potent potables with you. > I didn't know until I was struck that there was absolutely > no privacy in my supposedly private home. People who live in glass houses shouldn't dance around naked. > Thugs enter at will and spy on all citizens' activities with no > restraint, often out of pure voyeurism. Next you'll tell me they're reading all that stuff about you that you put on your Web page. > So-called nonlethal weapons are actually lethal when used > indefinitely without restraint and under certain conditions. Yeah, but even TOILET PAPER is lethal under those conditions. > Most victims harbor some amount of brain damage, deliberately > inflicted by literal cooking of their craniums with hazardous > radiation by thugs. This is a primary method relied upon to > seal in the secret, New! From the makers of Seal-A-Meal! It's Seal-A-Psycho! > ensuring the triumph of totalitarian control and organized crime. > > Criminals don't want you to know for one overriding reason. > They fear regulation. YEAH, THE FEDERAL TRADE COMMISSION MIGHT SOMEDAY MAKE CRIME ILLEGAL!!! OR AT LEAST PUT A TARIFF ON IT!!! > With total ignorance of the population they need not fear detection, > limitation, or reprisal. They would not be as inhumanly vicious as > they are if safety were their primary concern. I agree, torturing people should only be legal if it's done safely. > It is a misguided belief that the purpose of national security is > served by suppression of information, which results in no legal or > practical regulation or preparedness for assault. Help stop them > and their Attila-the-Hun-type tactics of Control. That's right, he did conquer most of Asia by using his mind-control laser, didn't he? By the way, this is the Internet. You're supposed to compare everyone you don't like to Hitler, not Attila the Hun. Don't you know anything about Internet etiquette? YOU'RE MORE CLUELESS ABOUT THE INTERNET THAN HITLER WAS! > For more information see my web site at any of the following > web addresses (mirror sites): I tried looking at your mirror site but it just looked like me, only left and right were reversed. My tiny brain could not comprehend this mysterious reversal of normal spatial orientations and I went INSANE!!! No, wait, your mirror site isn't really a mirror, it's just a page of crazy text in big letters. But still, I looked at it, and now I'm INSANE!!! > http://www.geocities.com/capaliwoda/mc/index.htm > > http://www.crosswinds.net/~capaliwoda/mc/index.htm > which reroutes to (use either address) > http://matrix.crosswinds.net/~capaliwoda/mc/index.htm > Crosswinds has no ad banners or popups. > > http://www.angelfire.com/electronic/mindcontrol/index.htm > > http://members.xoom.com/capaliwoda/mindcontrol/index.htm They all say "Best at 800x600 resolution." at the top, but my computer is in 1024x768 resolution! Your pages were RUINED! > dealing with my particular instance of victimization and > whatever I have been able to find out. I have just started > these web sites, which are still in progress. They are > undergoing continual overhaul, but basic information is in > place. Your endless rants about NASA electronically raping you from outer space are neither basic nor information. I suggest you pick a new term. How about "Stupitainment"? > ------ > Posted via news://freenews.netfront.net > Complaints to news@netfront.net You know, I just realized I've never seen a "Complaints to:" address on an article that wouldn't merit complaining about. -- K. Compliments to: kibo@world.std.com ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.composition,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: A Great New Sci-Fi Novel! (CRIT) Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 07:07:16 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > I can think of several sci-fi novels that are worse than "Attack of the > Rockoids" (even ones with real covers printed in color and everything) T Nielsen Hayden (tnh@panix.com) wrote: > > Let me also recommend =Black Body= by H. C. Turk, published in a > beautiful hardcover edition by Villard (a respectable trade house). > =Black Body= has a word of mouth reputation among combat-hardened > slush-reading editors as a singularly awful book, off the scale of > normal judgement. Jonathan W Hendry (jhendry@ux1.depaul.edu) wrote: > > How did this happen? T Nielsen Hayden (tnh@panix.com) wrote: > > No one knows. Don D'Ammassa said he liked it. Perhaps it has some > inscrutable appeal to a tiny fraction of the reading population, and the > editor who bought the book happened to be one of them. I shall restate the theory which will someday win me The Nobel Prize For Understanding Science Fiction Fans Or Any Other Kind Of Fan For That Matter. Kibo's Law Of Fandom says, in plain English: The fewer fans there are who like something, the more those fans will like it (to compensate.) Thus, we all know that there are a lot of people running around playing dress-up at "Star Trek" conventions. But there are plenty of people who like "Star Trek". Now think about fans of "NBC's seaQuest DSV". There are maybe a hundred of them. And at this very moment they're all running around shouting "LA LA LA LA! I ARE A TALKING DOLPHIN!" And somewhere there are two or three people who liked Year Two ("NBC's seaQuest") better than Year One ("NBC's seaQuest DSV") or Year Three ("NBC's seaQuest 2032"). Those people like Year Two A LOT. Relative unpopularity breeds obsession. This theory explains a lot of things. In fact, it explains everything in all facets of human behavior. What personal preferences were previously puzzling are now perfectly predictable. (Although still creepy.) Billions of people enjoy the taste of strawberries. Because they are good, lots of people like them. Because lots of people like them, they don't need to go around advertising that. You don't hear about people going ape over strawberries. However, almost nobody likes durians. But among the people who do like durians, there are sad stories of people whose lives have been destroyed by their addiction to the world's worst- tasting, most-expensive fruit-like sticky, spiky, stinky object. Most people like dogs. They don't act weird or anything. (The people, not the dogs.) Many people like cats. A few of them get a tad catty about cats. A few people have ferrets. They talk about ferrets to their ferret friends and buy ferret costumes for their ferret pets while living the ferret lifestyle. About a dozen people own pet centipedes. And you just know that they avoid bathing because that would cut into the amount of time they could spend staring at their centipede sitting there. Think of this sliding scale: Windows -> Windows NT -> Mac OS -> Linux -> OS/2 -> AmigaDOS ...and the increasing degree of screaming geekdom of as the size of the community shrinks inexorably towards a single nerd whose life revolves around being the only guy anywhere who likes The Michigan Terminal System. Because someone, somewhere, has to like anything. And if he's the only one, he is indeed Very Special. -- K. I like orange traffic cones. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Wunder-kibological-weihnachts-robots Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 07:15:58 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Mark Hill (mhill@epicentre.net) wrote: > > David DeLaney (dbd@panacea.phys.utk.edu) wrote: > > > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > > > By the way, Andrew, over there in Luxembourg, your metres must > > > only be about half as long as our metres. A twelve-foot, six-inch > > > tall clown would be more than twice as scary as a six-foot, six-inch > > > tall clown. (This is because when you double the height of a clown, > > > you square his scariness. It's The Law Of Scary Squares.) > > > > ....The things I _learn_ in this newsgroup! Why don't they teach that in > > -grad- school where I might have got some grant money out of it? > > This discrepency between the size of Luxembourg metres and the size of > REAL ones also explains why the Luxembourg probe to Mars was lost. That's easy to prove, because everyone knows that no probe has ever successfully gone from Luxembourg to Mars. (Besides, I'm not sure they would have enough room to stand back from the rocket as it takes off.) Someday I hope there's a war between Luxembourg, Monaco, Rhode Island, and The Vatican. Unfortunately, I think Rhode Island would win because their enemies would be confused because RHODE ISLAND ISN'T AN ISLAND!!! And, David, they also don't teach about the silent "e" in grade school, just so that we can put "grad school" on our resumes at age 8. -- K. I made my first million before I was eight. Or was it vice versa? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: "James \"Kibo\" Parry" (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Wunder-kibological-weihnachts-robots X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium User-Agent: MT-NewsWatcher/3.0 (PPC) Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 03:23:39 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Theresa Willis (twillis@sound.net) wrote: > > Matt McIrvin (mmcirvin@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > David DeLaney (dbd@panacea.phys.utk.edu) wrote: > > > > > > TRUE STORY: My dad used to work with Frank LaGuisa (sp?), at General Electric, > > > who used to be the guy every year who designed the lighting they used on that > > > Xmas tree. > > > > Is there anyone on this newsgroup whose dad DIDN'T work for > > General Electric? > > Uh, lets see... on my birth certificate my father's occupation is listed as > "Solderer for GE". > > Oh, my dear Lord. > > This whole a.r.k. thing has been ordained since MY BIRTH. > > Excuse me, I have to go hide in the closet for awhile. I got you guys beat... my late father worked for General Electric for 35 years (as a steam-turbine engineer)... at their original plant in... SCHENECTADY. -- K. Fortunately, it wasn't at their nuclear research lab in Niskayuna, which caused Niskayuna to have more PhDs per capita than anywhere else in the U.S., because then I would have become a NERD. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Meet Conan the Bacterium Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 08:22:47 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In sci.space.policy, Ron Baalke (baalke@kelvin.jpl.nasa.gov) wrote: > > Meet Conan the Bacterium > Marshall Space Flight Center Do I need a ticket? Can I get my photo taken with him? This is the REAL Conan The Bacterium and not just some guy with a rented costume and a giant foam-rubber head, right? > http://science.nasa.gov/newhome/headlines/ast14dec99_1.htm > > Humble microbe could become "The Accidental (Space) Tourist" > > Dec. 14, 1999: Like a muscle-bound movie hero, it withstands attacks from > acid baths, high and low temperatures, and even radiation doses. Eww. I don't care how high the budget is, I would never watch a movie where the plot is that Arnold Schwarzenegger takes any kind of bath, even if you assure me it's real acid. > Then, in a science fiction sequel, it dispenses lifesaving medications and lifesaver candy? Please please please? > reshapes a planet for new settlers. "Hooray! We now have more surface area on which to build, here on Cubicaland! I'm gonna build a McDonalds at each of the eight corners of the world!" > And in true Hollywood fashion, the star of this epic had humble beginnings, > living in cow patties and elephant dung, Oh, like Rudy Giuliani. > and coming to the attention of scientists when it refused to die Oh, like Rudy Giuliani. > in food sterilization tests. > > You need a microscope to see this miniature future hero listed as > Deinococcus radiodurans radiodurians? Oh no! They've discovered a way to send rancid fruit into your home by wireless transmission! > and known to its fans as Conan the Bacterium. But they can only see it at 12:35 A.M. (Eastern time.) > "Deinococcus radiodurans beats most of the constraints for survival of life > on Mars - radiation, cold, vacuum, dormancy, oxidative damage, and other > factors," said Dr. Robert Richmond, a research biologist at NASA's Marshall > Space Flight Center. With other scientists, he is investigating the possible > utility of extremophiles to serve human exploration to inhospitable > locations. Remind me to get by business cards redone now that I've learned the term "extremophile". > Humble origins > > Richmond and his colleagues see D. radiodurans as playing the part of > possible Martian microbes in simulations to help direct the search for life > on Mars. Next, it could be genetically altered to produce medicines for > astronauts in the short-term, rather than hauling an entire pharmacy along > on the trip, "Do we want to bring along some medicines or this escape pod?" "Oh, bring the medicines. We don't want the mission to be ruined because one of the astronauts has a cold." "Okay, I'll pack that cure for the common cold that we've been suppressing from the American public." > and restructuring Mars for human habitation in the long-term. > > With R. Sridhar of Howard University Medical Center in Washington, D.C. and > Dr. Michael J. Daly of the Uniformed Services University of the Health > Services in Bethesda, Md., Richmond presented a paper at the 1999 SPIE > Conference in Denver on the "Physico-Chemical Survival Pattern for the > Radiophile D. radiodurans: A Polyextremophile Model for Life on Mars." Darn, now I gotta get my business cards redesigned AGAIN. Please tell me the scale doesn't go past "polyextremophile" because it would cost me even more money to change them to something even cooler. > Daly and his co-workers, in a recent article in Science magazine, announced > that they had completed sequencing the genome of D. radiodurans. Hey, NASA's just getting its research by copying _Science_ magazine! I demand that NASA's budget be reduced to the cost of a copy of _Science_! And why aren't they more patriotic? They should read _Scientific American_, which is like _Science_ only without all that science from other countries! > This opens the way for exploitation of its ability to integrate external > genes selected to express products useful to explorers on Mars or other > such places. You know, all those other Mars-like planets. Like Marzon and Marzona and Mars II and Shmars. > "Radiodurans' beginnings are thought to be from early Earth," Richmond said, as opposed to the theory that they evolved in the future. > and paralleled a time when the environment may have also approximated that > existing on Mars for a few hundred million years. Given the presumed sharing > of debris generated from meteorite impacts amongst the early planets, Remember, planets can catch diseases from the sharing of debris. If you share debris with a planet, you're also sharing debris with the entire solar system it's slept with! > origins of D. radiodurans might even be accidentally common between Mars and > Earth. "By nature, it is selected to survive radiation damage very well," D. > radiodurans can withstand without loss of viability a dosage that is 3,000 > times greater than what would kill a human. "The fact that you can > genetically engineer these things is the key to the utility of this bug." I see. So even after the astronauts have been fried by a massive blast of radiation, the bacteria will still be making penicillin for them. > It's heady stuff for a primitive organism. > > But D. radiodurans has a feature that is considered all-important in > aerospace: redundancy. Its genetic code repeats itself many times so that > damage in one area can be recognized and quickly repaired. Coupled with its > range of other survival characteristics, D. radiodurans has been dubbed a > polyextremophile by Richmond, Sridhar, and Daly. alt.sex.fetish.polyextremophiles I see a great need. > Extremophiles have been known to scientists for decades but often were > regarded a laboratory oddity. The discovery of what appears to be > nanobacteria (or nanobes, smaller than microbes) in a rerun of "Mork & Mindy" > meteorite from Mars (Alan Hills 84001, or ALH84001) catapulted extremophiles > into the spotlight as a model for possible lifeforms on Mars. And don't forget those ten-mile-wide bacteria shaped like triangular faces that sit there on Mars. > The debate over whether the ALH84001 forms ever were nanobes (or just > non-living imitations) ...one of those clever rocks that TRIES REALLY HARD TO TRICK YOU! It's the rock that outsmarts NASA scientists! > led to recent discoveries of probable nanobes living in such odd places > as human kidney stones Up The Urinary Tract By Rocket: NASA to send probe to human kidney stone > and in limestone 4 kilometers under the surface of the Earth. > > "We have a new door opening on the possibilities of lifeforms," Richmond > said, "not just new species but whole new life forms that could connect to > the origins of life on Earth and could be a common link to the possible > beginnings of life on Mars." > > Most extremophiles have optimized themselves for one or two extreme > conditions and settled into wonderful ecological niches like the hot springs > of Yosemite. Radiodurans has been dubbed a polyextremophile because it can > endure many extremes, including the most dangerous space hazard, radiation. You know, I have a hunch radiodurians is called a polyextremophile. > "Radiation-induced DNA damage is an oxidizing type of damage," Richmond > said. It happens when radiation energizes an atom enough to break a chemical > bond and then act like an atom of oxygen and bind with another atom. Such > free radicals FREE THE CHICAGO SEVEN! > have been implicated in a range of cancers and genetic mutations. > > D. radiodurans, though, is hypothesized by Daly to resist such damage by > virtue of repair specialized to utilize its redundant strands of DNA. This > also means that it should resist damage from the chemistry of Mars, which > chemical experiments done by the labs aboard the two Viking landers indicate > may be highly oxidative. > > D. radiodurans was discovered in the 1950s. Scientists experimenting with > radiation to kill bacteria and preserve food for long periods found that > something kept growing back after treatment. They named it "Spam". > It remained a laboratory oddity for several years until the arrival of > genetic engineering, the science of altering an organism's basic biological > code, sometimes by splicing into it portions of another organism's code. > Daly's group is inserting specialized genes to help in eliminating dangerous > chemicals from waste sites. An established example of the value of such > genetic engineering is found with E. coli, the bacteria found in the human > gut, that has been engineered to produce large quantities of human insulin, > which once had to be refined from human cadavers. Whereas now it comes from bacteria extracted from the poop of LIVING people. That's much less gross. > "Daly has been active in developing D. radiodurans as a special model for > bioremediation to clean radioactive supersites left over from the Cold War," > Richmond explained. Some of those sites contain radioactive materials that > are not easily removed by other microbes. While some other bacteria are > being genetically engineered to thrive in toxic conditions while converting > hazardous waste into reusable effluent, I'm tired of disposable effluent! I want effluent I can use day after day! > none can resist radiation the way D. radiodurans can. > > Already, Daly and his colleagues have devised D. radiodurans variants that > can clean up mercury, a deadly heavy metal, and toluene, a dangerous > solvent. This work was sponsored by the U.S. Department of Energy. > > The capability to insert genes also makes D. radiodurans a candidate for > Mars pharmacists and to become "the plow that broke the plains" on Mars. LET US BEAT OUR SWORDS INTO BACTERIA!!! > But first, it may help search for life on Mars as a stand-in for Martian > microbes in simulated Mars environments. > > The changing face of Mars > > Mars has gone through radical changes in our perception as a haven for life. > After Sir Percival Lowell and a number of science fiction stories > popularized Mars as a dying planet, U.S. space probes in the 1960s and 1970s > rewrote the book to show Mars as long dead, perhaps never alive. > > Then came the discoveries hidden inside ALH84001. Soon thereafter, images > and data from the Mars Global Surveyor, Mars Pathfinder, and Sojourner Rover > spacecraft showed Mars indeed has significant quantities of water, and once > had running water. And it used to get free cable TV before they turned that off too. > While Mars has become more tantalizing, it is far from Eden. So the question > is, if life was there, or is there, what are the best places to find it? > Spacecraft surveying the planet to determine where water might survive > beneath the surface, or where it once may have existed, are addressing this. > > Even within those regions, you have to figure out which spots are best since > a lander will have limited time and resources compared to the open wilds of > Mars. One approach is to culture D. radiodurans in Mars simulations on > Earth. > > "We are restricted in the search for life right now to Earth-based > microbes," Richmond explained. "We have to ask, What are the restraints on > life that those microbes will have to surmount in order to plausibly exist > on other planets?" > > Extremophile habitats on Earth cover a range of conditions: temperatures > near boiling or below freezing; a nearly total lack of water, or water that > ranges from alkaline to acidic or salty; non-carbon foods; and a lack of > oxygen. One of the tricks that less durable lifeforms use to survive such > tough times is to hibernate as spores. Such was the case with Streptococcus > mitus discovered inside a TV camera recovered by the Apollo 12 crew from the > Surveyor 3 spacecraft on the Moon. To everyone's amazement, the bacteria > were viable and quickly revived in a culture on Earth. But that was after > just a three-year stay. Also it was after Dave Foley handled it after he got sent to the Moon when he was kicked out of "Kids In The Hall" for refusing to wear a dress under his spacesuit. (Even telling him that Buzz Aldrin wore a Masonic diaper under his spacesuit didn't convince him.) So they sent Dave Foley up there and he manhandled the Surveyor camera and then he pointed his TV camera into the sun, permanently blinding thousands of television viewers, and then he lost the timer for his still camera so he couldn't get a picture of himself standing on the Moon to prove he'd been there, and then on the trip back he opened Apollo 12's broom closet and hundreds of cameras fell on his head. I know this is true because every TV show Tom Hanks has ever done has been a true story, including "Bosom Buddies", which was cancelled when Dave Foley wouldn't wear a dress. > "The restraints become temporal, too," Richmond explained. "Dormancy has to > carry on for thousands or millions of years" if a life form is to last until > conditions on Mars become hospitable for growth, somewhat like the floral > seeds waiting in the desert for the rare fall of rain. > > And that's where radiation resistance comes in handy. While radiation issues > are usually associated with nuclear power or exposure to the space > environment, it is not commonly recognized as being inescapable. Radiation is not inescapable! Just build your house inside a black hole! I guarantee you nothing will get in, whether radiation or tax assessors! > We are exposed through our entire lives to potassium-40, radon, carbon-14 > and other radioactive sources. Living in the mountains or flying also > increases exposure slightly. Also, thinking about what causes cancer causes cancer. > Surviving a long winter's nap > > But the total dosage from these is small during our lifespans, so the impact > normally is insignificant. However, for an organism in hibernation for a > million years or so, the cumulative exposure can be like sitting inside a > reactor for several minutes. While singing "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! This furnace is cool!" YAY! I JUST MADE A CALLBACK TO THAT GRADE-SCHOOL PRODUCTION OF "JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT" I ONCE SAW! I'M MORE OBSCURE THAN D. RADIODURANS! > That's why crawling under a rock to escape solar ultraviolet light on Mars > is not a perfect strategy. The rock itself emits trace quantities of > radiation over time. Also eventually all the protons in our bodies will decay so it's not worth bothering to go to work in the morning. > "Within responsible imagination, no long-dormant lifeform can be expected on > the surface of Mars due to combined build up of damage over time caused by > both incoming space radiation plus the background radiation," Richmond said. > The best hope is that life got started some billions of years ago when > conditions were more hospitable, and that a few microbes adapted to extreme > conditions or learned how to hibernate below the surface. > > "But if they wake up too late, they run into the ultimate restriction, too > much radiation damage that has accumulated if it's not repaired," Richmond > said. "At that point, the population is dead." But they're just BACTERIA! A single housewife armed with a can of Lysol can kill trillions of them in a single afternoon and I don't hear NASA worrying about housewives! > So even if something like D. radiodurans evolved on early Mars, it's > possible that winter has lasted too long for any survivors to reawaken in > the artificial spring of a petri dish. > > Even so, D. radiodurans may yet travel to Mars as a Pharmacist's Mate First > Class. That was the second-lowest rank in "Star Raiders" on my Atari 800. > "Because of genetic engineering, you might do a lot with this bug to enhance > the survivability of man in extraterrestrial environments," Richmond said. > Altering the human genome to take on survival characteristics like D. > radiodurans is far too complex a task (the human genome hasn't been > completely sequenced, nor all of its 100,000+ genes decoded). But D. > radiodurans could be altered to serve man. "'TO SERVE MAN'... IT'S A BACTERIUM!!!" (MUSIC STING) > "The interesting things about drugs we use is that about two-thirds are > natural products or derived from natural products," Richmond said. "Anything > that is a natural product ultimately comes down to a gene and can be > genetically managed, in theory." > > Living off the land - after you reshape it > > Richmond, Sridhar, and Daly suggest that D. radiodurans can be genetically > manipulated to produce various drugs that humans might need while exploring > Mars, then put on ice during the mission. If someone became ill, treatment > would start with drugs in from a small supply kept on hand, while the > appropriate bugs were awakened to produce a regular supply. (This need was > presaged this summer by the need to airdrop tamoxifen, a breast cancer > chemotherapy agent, at the South Pole for a medical doctor who had diagnosed > herself with breast cancer.) Ah, yes, they should have had one of those bacteria that produces the cure for cancer. > With such an approach, the issues of shelf life for drugs could also be > circumvented. Well, okay, the bacteria would be making fresh drugs. But I say that if the astronauts can get along just fine with powdered eggs, they can make do with slightly stale drugs. I don't hear anyone proposing they take along a chicken coop just so they can have eggs that haven't expired. > This would also reduce the weight that > a spaceship would have to haul to Mars and back. Yes. You'd just have to carry along a genetic engineering laboratory and samples of every drug you might want to teach the microbes to make, instead of carrying along some of every drug you might want... hey, wait a minute. > Radiodurans next might be drafted as a Seabee (Navy Construction Battalion, > or C.B.) as humans set up camps and even homesteads on Mars. Other > engineered versions of D. radiodurans could recycle wastes - producing clean > water and oxygen - and perhaps even food supplements. "Its own food stock > might even be Mars," Richmond suggested, giving new meaning to "living off > the land." Again, the bug's genetic design might help ensure a renewable > grocery store for explorers. Unlike the Calumet down the block from me, which renews their frozen food only after ALL of it has been sold, every five years. I can't remember the last time they had anything with chicken in it. > The ultimate step would be the popular notion of terraforming, reshaping the > environment of Mars to make it more hospitable to humans. Terraforming was > first performed by ancient lifeforms that pressed little cartoon characters printed on vinyl onto waxed cardboard backgrounds... no, wait, that's chloroforming. My mistake. > converted Earth's environment from a carbon dioxide atmosphere and > calcium-rich seas MMM... MILKY OCEANS! > to the more hospitable world we have today. Because these early lifeforms > spoiled their home, they now survive in what we consider to be extreme > environments. > > Mars, too, is considered to be an extreme environment. But with a little > help from D. radiodurans, it may be made more accessible and, eventually, > attractive. After all, a Seabee's motto is, "The difficult we do now. The > impossible takes a little longer." I can just imagine life on Mars. Adam-5: Pardon me, could you direct me to the teleporter station? Eve-27: Certainly. Go past that big pile of bacteria, turn right at the lake of smelly bacteria, and climb over that mountain of squishy yellow bacteria. It's in the lobby of that big skyscraper, the one made of solid bacteria. Adam-5: Thank you! May the force be with you! Eve-27: Nano-nano! Adam-12: You're both under arrest. Adam-5: Shazbot! Eve-27: Oh, frack! -- K. I wanted to work "Space: 1999" into that somehow, but I couldn't think of a way to relate it to NASA. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: What do you want... egg in your beer? Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 08:44:03 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com What do you folks want me to give you for Christmas? Do you want (A) a new Spot story with your choice of multiple endings, (B) a new Einstein story involving time travel, (C) a couple very special new episodes of "The Special Show", (D) more Web pages showing evil orange cones, or (E) more Web pages showing Jar-Jar Binks in compromising positions? Please send your vote to --> xmas@kibo.com <-- otherwise I will go out of my way not to read it because I get crotchety around Christmas. BAH, HUMBUG! BUMGARN! DURIAN! SPIEDEL TWISTOFLEX! Once again, that's --> xmas@kibo.com <-- for the place where you should mail your choice of letters (A), (B), (C), (D), or (E). Letters containing a letter other than A through E will be ignored. (After all, I always ignore all my mail.) Anyway, please tell --> xmas@kibo.com <-- what I should do for you on Christmas. Starting tomorrow night I will be reposting some of my stories written for Christmas past, and/or reruns of "The Special Show" produced for old-time mental institutions. -- K. The kind where the psychotherapy involved pliers. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,soc.libraries.talk From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Add Inches to your PENIS! right now 261 Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 09:24:43 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In a smut newsgroup, the fake address "sdf3ee24@sde22ld.com" spamvertised: > > Subject: Add Inches to your PENIS! right now 261 RIGHT... NOW? In a related story, Archimedes Plutonium was seen leaving a local library with a larger penis than when he went in. Don Saklad is investigating the Boston Public Library's conspiracy to keep him from enlarging his penis RIGHT NOW. -- K. I don't even want to ask about the 261 inches. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Short Shameful PLUG Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 10:21:59 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Just a reminder: If you're travelling on a long plane or train or car trip this week for your boring vacation, first be sure to visit http://www.kibo.com/rawdata/ and suck all those files down into your laptop computer and/or print them out on actual paper that you can read in a moving vehicle. The "Raw Data" archive contains everything I've said from December 1998 to the present (plus a small number of duplicate articles just to make it more fun for everyone) in handy plain-text format, so that you can read them without Adobe Acrobat Reader, which doesn't work on a train, on a plane, in a box, or with a fox. The dates on the files are the dates the week in question _ended_, so the file named 98-12-27.txt contains last Christmas in case you want to pretend you're celebrating last Christmas again. I think that was Ross Perot's advice for fixing the Y2K bug: Just pretend it's still last year forever. -- K. And HAVE A HAPPY Y 2 DOT COM!!! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Short Shameful PLUG X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sun, 26 Dec 1999 00:58:49 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Michael Straight (straight@email.unc.edu) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > The "Raw Data" archive [on www.kibo.com] contains everything I've said > > from December 1998 to the present (plus a small number of duplicate > > articles just to make it more fun for everyone) > > "small number" here means that every file has a few posts overlapping from > the previous file. This is because I am too stupid to remember what I > read in the time it takes to click the back arrow and then the next > filename and would be totally lost without this extra Kontext which is a > recycled byproduct from the use of Kontext-Away[tm]. Exactly. There's a little overlap between adjacent files simply because each 6 days I grab all the current articles off my news server, and I do that because they expire after 7 days and I don't want to cut it close and miss any, and I'm too lazy to weed out the duplicates or anything because this is just a quick archive suitable for people to check what they missed lately. Eventually there will be a nice searchable one that lets you get specific articles (back to 1991) and of course eventually I need to edit these things into "Best Of" volumes. Whenever I have time again. I'm thinking of doing the "Best Of 1999" volumes around the time I retire in 2032. -- K. Unless, of course, I'm still captain of the seaQuest after 2032. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: REPOST: The invention of the smiley. Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 10:26:01 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com This was last seen last year. I'm reposting it because I miss watching "Science Fiction Theatre" back when the Sci-Fi channel showed bad programs that WEREN'T filmed in Canada. /\/\/\/\/\/\/ RERUN /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: The Plethora Of Discussion. Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology Organization: welcome datacomp Date: Sat, 20 Jun 1998 03:46:46 GMT X-Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 4721 centons, 63 microns, .02 rouettes Richard E. Nickle (rick@beable.trystero.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > -- Kibo, Evil Space Pirate, > > Spokesman For Earth, > > And King Of Terror > > You forgot to add 'Emperor of R.O.M.' and 'Inventor of the Smiley' (Kibo crosses to a handy typewriter and begins to bash out letters.) R O M I S T O B O R S P E L L E D B A C K W A R D S R O M I S T O B O R S P E L L E D B A C K W A R D S R O M Y S T O B O R S P E L E L D B A C K W A R D S R O M I S T O B B O R S P E L L E D B A C K W A R D S R O M I S T O B O R S P E L L E D B A C K W Z R D S TRUMAN BRADLEY: Yes, some day, robots such as these may be available from the Sears Holiday Wish Book. But will they be invisible like my robot? Tonight's story DID NOT HAPPEN, a tale from the borderland beyond fiction, beyond science, a tale so terrible that... it just might happen tomorrow. COULD IT HAPPEN? DID IT HAPPEN? IS THIS STORY TRUE? Tonight's story did not happen. BUT IT DID HAPPEN!!! (Lap-dissolve to a spaghetti collander sitting on a table. It is slowly rocking back and forth as someone shakes the table by the legs. Extremely loud big-band music is heard. Superimposed title:) SCIENCE FICTION THEATRE presents INVENTOR OF THE SMILEY with Whit Bissell and Coleman Francis SCIENTIST (peering into microscope): These computer circuits are oddly programmed. Could the Communists be involved? WIFE (dancing through the room stirring a pan of cake batter): Hi, honey! Look at me! I'm cooking! Look at me! Look at meeeeee! SCIENTIST: No time for that now, woman. I am inventing the computer! WIFE (bursting into tears): You never invented the computer before! You used to talk to me before you became such a... a... science doer! SCIENTIST: The word is "scientist". WIFE: Oh. Now I understand. Science is a worthier pursuit than my selfish desire for acknowledgment of my existence. I will stir more quietly in the kitchen and never leave the kitchen again. (She exits.) SCIENTIST: Now, how do these bits travel over the wires to communications satellites? (Scratchy black and white stock footage of a rubber ball with toothpicks stuck in it hovering over a globe of the Earth with huge letters saying "Ottoman Empire" in Europe. Sound effect: A guy saying "Beep... beep...") SCIENTIST: I just can't invent anything worthy of a Nobel Prize today. I guess I'm just not cut out to be the world's greatest scientist any more. (He crosses over to the shaving mirror hanging over the Bunsen burner in his lab, and talks to his reflection.) SCIENTIST: Here I am all alone with you. But you can't help me. I'm just a washed-up World's Greatest Scientist and you're all backwards. I hate you! (He gives the mirror a very gentle slap, so as not to break the prop. The wall wobbles. The mirror comes unhinged and rotates ninety degrees clockwise. Suddenly the scientist's reflection is sideways!) SCIENTIST: Now, wait just a minute, hold it right there... (He picks up a grease pencil and circles the eyes of his sideways reflection, then outlines the mouth. Slow, wobbly zoom in on the smiley he has just drawn. We hear the big band orchestra playing swing music at ten thousand decibels.) SCIENTIST: Well, I'll be! The smiley was within me after all! TRUMAN BRADLEY: Tonight's story did not happen. But someday... it will. Maybe the day after tomorrow. Maybe two days before tomorrow. It doesn't matter. What matters is science. One day man will invent the smiley. Then his wife will bake him a cake. I'm Truman Bradley. Good night. (He picks up a September 1953 "Scientific American" magazine and begins reading the photo captions for the thenty-eighth time. Roll credits.) -- K. This parody DID happen. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: "James \"Kibo\" Parry" (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Y2K national security concerns prompt emergency Pre-Xmas story X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium User-Agent: MT-NewsWatcher/3.0 (PPC) Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 03:09:24 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com I'm still planning on doing something special on Christmas, as always, but this morning I turned on my TV and suddenly had to write a December 23rd story. --><><-- --><><-- --><><-- --><><-- --><><-- --><><-- --><><-- EINSTEIN SAVES Y2KMAS Copyright (C) 1999 James "Kibo" Parry (This story was written on December 23, 1999. Verbatim quotes are used from ten minutes of CNN Headline News.) It was approaching Christmas and the end of 1999, and everyone was determined to party like it wasn't Y2K -- the total end of the world due to all computers everywhere simultaneously exploding (give or take an hour for the ones that weren't on Daylight Savings Time.) People were happy because they had heard so much about Y2K on TV that it must have been fixed by now. (Actually, what had happened was that Bill Gates had agreed to push the button that fixed the Y2K problem if the President agreed to drop the lawsuit against Microsoft.) People were also in a part mood because it was the end of the second millennium, from 1000 to 1999, which curiously overlapped with the last year of the first millennium from 1 to 1000. But such technical details were unimportant because people were simply celebrating the pure mathematical beauty of the number. Two Thousand. It was a number that carried a cachet of ultimate cool. Two thousand was the model number of KITT, the Knight Industries Two Thousand talking car. Two thousand was one cooler than "Space: 1999". Two thousand was exactly four times the Daytona 500. And it was exactly two thousand times as cool as Pepsi One! The impending change of the calendar was a reason to celebrate. Of course, not all was fun and games -- there was an impending economic crisis because many people would have money trapped in their banks forever because their checks said "19__" where they were supposed to write the date. Reruns of "Space: 1999" could never be shown on television again. And if they every showed NBC's "Y2K: The Movie" again, it would seem stupid! Albert Einstein, who was not just the world's greatest scientist but also America's greatest scientist, was taking no chances. He was watching TV because they would tell him if anything important was going to happen on Christmas on New Year's Eve. Stepping over his sleeping dog Spot, he turned on CNN Headline News to be reassured in a non-hysterical manner that nothing bad was happening. And indeed nothing bad was happening, because CNN Headline News was all about things that weren't happening... YET. "A Federal prosecutor says bomb-making materials smuggled into the United States by an Algerian man could have been used to, quote, 'easily take down a building.' Ahmed Rassam is being held without bail..." "Oh no!" gasped Einstein. "Enough explosive to destroy an unspecified building! Maybe even the Unabomber's little shack! Nobody's ever had that much explosive power before!" He pushed a bag of nitrate fertilizer and a nearly-empty can of gasoline aside to get a better view of his TV as the second news story unrolled: "Officials are asking Americans to be on alert for possible terrorist threats, but don't see any reason to call off New Year's celebrations at the Seattle Center." Einstein sighed in relief. Although there was the danger of everyone everywhere being threatened with imminent death at the hands of terrorists, the level of terrorism wasn't enough to, say, ruin a party. So everyone should go to the party anyway, as long as they're really, really, really worried about terrorism while they were there. Woman with enormous earrings: "At this point we can certain urge public attention and care and attentiveness to any uh, un... attended packages, alert to anything unusual. We do not have any specific information that would indicate that Seattle Center is a target or that that particular celebration is at risk, we do not have any specific information like that or we would try to share it." Unattended packages! Oh no! Einstein had wrapped his Christmas gifts for Spot and they had been hidden in a closet for days, where nobody could see them! He made a mental note to never open his closet again, because opening his closet could allow Spot to get his gifts, which would be bad in case his gifts had turned evil. He was grateful that the big-earringed woman didn't have any specific information so that there was no need to panic about anything in particular, and relaxed into a media-induced state of general panic. "'...making us particularly vulnerable to terrorist influence and activities.' Elcock said Canada's counter-terrorism group was investigating more than fifty alleged terrorist organizations in Canada." Einstein made a mental note to ever visit Canada again, because it had alleged organizations in it. He wondered if any other countries had ever had fifty alleged organizations in them at the same time. He wished he could do something to protect Canada, and the United States, from the dangers of alleged terrorism. "The FBI is warning people to watch out for possible mail bombs. The bureau says that the government has received unsubstantiated information that bomb in small parcels may be sent to the United States. The packages would be sent from Frankfurt, Germany. And the FBI cautions the public about any packages originating or bearing Frankfurt postal markings, or stamps, when the sender is unknown or unfamiliar to the recipient. Questionable packages should not be handled, and authorities should be notified." Einstein gasped in abject horror. His Aunt Vilma, whom he had never met, lived in Frankfurt! And sitting on his bed were several large, prettily-wrapped packages she had mailed him! And worse, the packages all had... stamps! He picked up the phone and called the FBI, who were kind enough to send a bomb squad over to tape the door to his bedroom shut and pump it full of oil to disarm any bombs that might have been hidden in, or near, the packages of Aunt Vilma's tasty fruitcake. Einstein was thankful that the TV had brought him this unsubstantiated information, because unsubstantiated information was always more worrisome than real information. It would be a shame if there just happened to be some terrorist incident somewhere in the world and people hadn't practiced worrying beforehand. The American news media were filling an important void in everyone's daily routine -- because people had stopped worrying about that Y2K thing, the news media were now working to convince every American that their lives were in danger because of unspecified, generalized alleged terrorist activity which would take place only around New Year's Eve! And Einstein, being the good and intelligent citizen he was, had learned to be paranoid after only a few minutes of watching TV! "I must do something about this horrible subjunctive terrorism that, by next week, MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED!" yelled Einstein. He shoved Spot's doggie bed under the laboratory table and set to work unhampered by the sight of his sleeping dog not worrying about terrorism. Within hours, his invention was complete. He threw the master switch and the force-field generator began to glow. A faintly-visible three-dimensional lattice spread out through the room, out the window, and filled the sky to the horizon. "It works! Spot, it works! I have successfully projected an impenetrable defense grid over the continental United States, including Canada and Mexico!" "Zzz," snored Spot. Einstein checked his electronic map of the world's tactical hot spots. There was now a glowing red dotted line surrounding the entire NAFTA region. Now no terrorists could get in from anywhere else in the world, such as the evil countries (in green), the suspicious countries (in purple), and the sleazy countries (in yellow)! Furthermore, because the impermeable defense grid filled the atmosphere and extended up into space, no missiles would be able to get in should any of the evil countries try to give America the glowing Christmas gift of thermo-nuclear devastation! Everyone would be safe from nuclear attack, at least until he turned off the force field on January 2. Einstein dimmed the brightness of his global tactical defense map and went to sleep. He slept the sleep of those who are truly comfortable and secure and not at all worried about terrorism. Meanwhile, high overhead, Santa's sleigh set out from the North Pole, and rammed into the edge of Einstein's defense grid. Santa was incinerated, as well all the presents he was carrying. Even the Barbies. Even the Pokemon. ESPECIALLY the Pokemon. Millions of children in the United States were staring at their fireplaces, waiting for Santa Claus to sneak down their chimneys in plain sight, not realizing that he would never come! Christmas would be ruined! Of course, over at NORAD, the Pentagon's top brass were huddled around a radar screen, watching Santa's progress. Some of the less-drunk ones noticed Santa being immolated. "Hey," said General Tipsy, "Santa's gotten all burned up an' stuff." He passed out, falling on the Big Red Button. In grain pastures and lima bean fields everywhere, armor-plated hatches popped open as all the nuclear missiles were launched in all directions. Because of the hot exhaust from the missiles, much of the Midwest now smelled like burnt lima beans. Of course, the missiles did not reach their targets in the Soviet Union, because the Soviet Union didn't exist any more, and because all the missiles exploded harmlessly when they bumped into the edge of the defense grid. Tons of radioactive fallout fell in places like Nova Scotia and Mexico City, harming neither Americans or anyone in bad countries. The President, of course, was alerted to this by a special box on his night table that was designed to wake him up if there had just been a nuclear war. He rolled out of bed, bounced twice, and picked up the red phone that would connect him to the greatest mind in the United States. Einstein's phone rang. "Hello? Vas ist das? Who is vaking me up at this hour?" "Dr. Einstein, this is the President. Something terrible has happened. Santa Claus is dead. There has been a nuclear war. Outlying areas are covered with fallout. And oxygen levels are rapidly dropping because some terrorist has covered the United States with an airtight force field." "Oh. Uh, well, I wish you luck in trying to find him. I mean her. Good night, and have a Merry Christmas." Einstein hung up but the President called him back. "Dr. Einstein, this is important! You have to help me! Public opinion of my Presidency will decline if it's discovered that I was the first President ever to allow Santa Claus to be vaporized! You are the only one who can help -- I am counting on you to replace Santa Claus!" Einstein thought about that for a moment -- after all, he did have that rocket-powered sleigh he'd invented last week, and he did have a lightweight machine that dispensed thousands of toys per minute, and he did have that spy computer that monitored the thoughts of millions of children to detect the bad ones -- and he had big white hair -- but it turned out that the President wanted Einstein to find a qualified professional to replace Santa Claus, not just any crazy old man with a super-fast sleigh and an infinite supply of presents. Einstein promised the President that he would find a replacement for Santa Claus and hung up. Then he unplugged the phone to stop the President from pestering him again. Using his quantum-powered trans-puter, he scanned the United States (again, including Canada and Mexico) for people with magical powers who could substitute for the late Santa Claus. The trans-puter's quaternion gate arrays and meta-logical thinkery buffers spun around and information churned back and forth for a moment, and then the material synthesizer beamed down a punched paper card with the output on it. Einstein held the card over his head to see which holes the light came through. The card listed three worthy candidates. The first name on the list was Fanta Claus, a man in a pale orange suit with very bad teeth. He had the power to bring cheap carbonated beverages to children everywhere in a multiplicity of flavors (orange, red, blue, green, and especially brown) and could travel where he was needed in his flying soda fountain, which was pulled by eight flying fanta rays. Einstein thought about Fanta Claus a while, just as he had done on many rainy weekends, but decided that Fanta Claus was inappropriate because of all the diabetic children out there -- he didn't want diabetic children to get gas. So Einstein read the second name off the card. The second candidate hailed from Mexico: El Santo Claus. He was a shirtless professional wrestler in a silver bondage hood, and he had the power to wrestle with vampires and Aztec mummies in low-budget black-and-white movies that never needed to be translated because, hey, stupidity is the universal language. However, there was no way El Santo Claus could deliver toys to all the good children in the NAFTA sphere of influence because his only means of transportation was an old silver convertible, which was currently buried under twenty tons of radioactive fallout in Mexico City. The only remaining option on the list was from Canada, but he had a French-sounding name so Einstein rejected him immediately because Einstein wanted someone who could say "HO HO HO!" in English. So, there was only one thing that could be done: Einstein would have to save Christmas himself, against the President's wishes. He pushed the button that would print out a list of who'd been naughty and who'd been nice, then drove to OfficeMax to buy several reams of paper when the printer emptied out, and loaded all 8,374 pages of the list into his rocket-sleigh along with the present dispenser, the laser-guided bad-child-finder, and a semi-automatic pistol in case he got mugged. He hitched Spot to the front of his sleigh. "Zzz.. whazzat?" asked Spot as he woke up. Einstein had no time to answer, as he was busy pushing the button that fired the rocket engines. "YAAAAAGH!" screamed Spot as the sled blasted into the sky, trailing Spot behind by his elastic neck leash. The rocket exhaust was hot and it burned off all his fur! "HO HO HO!" yelled Einstein as he buckled the belt of his furry red suit after tucking a pillow inside. Unfortunately, it was a contoured foam neck pillow, which made Einstein look like he had breasts covered with egg-crate bumps. But that mattered not, for this was Christmas Eve, and Einstein's sleigh was on a mission! He leaned over the side and yelled "HO HO HO!" A big green hand reached up and grabbed Einstein's sleigh! "HO HO HO INDEED!" snarled the Jolly Green Giant, furious over the destruction of his lima bean fields when the nuclear missiles were fired. Einstein reached inside his fur coat for his pistol, but it was lodged somewhere beneath his chiropractor-approved pillow. "HO HO HO AND HASTA LA VISTA, BABY!" yelled the Giant as he prepared to crush Einstein and his sleigh in his massive green hands. Just then, Spot finally caught up with the sleigh, as the leash snapped back from its fifty-mile-long stretched-out length and Spot came hurtling out of the dark at a thousand miles an hour. Spot crashed into the back of the Jolly Green Giant's head, causing a substance resembling guacamole to spurt from his ears as his skull caved in. The Jolly Green Giant died instantly, while he was out standing in his field. Einstein and Spot sped away as green blood seeped from the body of the fallen giant amid the toasted lima beans. They resumed their course towards the home of the first good little boy on their list: Aaron A. Allensworth, who lived in Alaska. Unfortunately, Einstein's sleigh burned up when it reached the edge of his defense grid, which covered only the continental United States, including Canada and Mexico but not the relatively unimportant Alaska and Hawaii. The strain of incinerating Einstein's sleigh (plus Einstein, Spot, and one contoured foam neck pillow) proved to be too much for the already-overburdened defense grid. It collapsed, sending random chunks of force field crashing down. Buildings everywhere were crushed by large blocks of solid energy! Mountains were flattened. Some of the force field fell into Lake Michigan, causing all the water to boil away instantly. The resulting cloud of steam covered the United States, causing everyone's clothes to shrink uncomfortably. Worst of all, at that same moment, terrorists came flooding across the now-open borders! There wasn't much of the continental United States left to destroy by that point, so the terrorists left, disappointed. They headed out to Alaska and Hawaii to blow them up too. At his secret underground backup bedroom deep under where the White House used to be, picked up the red telephone and began to dial for help from the nation's second-greatest scientific mind, Bill Gates. Gates's fees were a little higher than Einstein's. And although Bill Gates did indeed save Christmas and rebuild the United States, the nation's income tax had to be raise to 350% of income. Bill Gates laughed all the way to the bank, which in his case was a mountain made of million-dollar bills, protected by his latest invention, an impenetrable defense grid. It was the best Christmas ever, at least for Bill Gates. THE END -- K. If terrorists are so sneaky, why do they call themselves "terrorists" and not "happy fun friendsters" to avoid suspicion? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Y2K national security concerns prompt emergency Pre-Xmas story X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 11:31:38 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Before he stopped trying to test-drive a newsreader program that liked special \"quote\" \"marks\", "James \"Kibo\" Parry" (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > [quoting CNN Headline News from December 23rd] > > "Officials are asking Americans to be on alert for > possible terrorist threats, but don't see any reason to > call off New Year's celebrations at the Seattle Center." It worked! Today they managed to get Seattle to cancel the Y2K party by filling the airwaves with 24 hours a day of "THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC!!! WE DO NOT HAVE ANY INFORMATION THAT TERRORISTS ARE GOING TO BLOW UP SEATTLE!!! WE HAVEN'T EVEN HEARD ANY RUMORS ABOUT IT!!! NONE OF THE OTHER CHANNELS ARE REPORTING IT!!! THERE IS NOTHING WRONG!!! THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC!!!" Yes, indeed, Seattle called off the Y2K celebration BECAUSE they didn't see any reason to call off the Y2K celebration. -- K. "The Special Show" is never going to run out of material. And I used to think that socio-political satire was HARD. Take that, Mark Russell! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.fan.beable,alt.religion.kibology From: "James \"Kibo\" Parry" (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: An unexploited market segment X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium User-Agent: MT-NewsWatcher/3.0 (PPC) Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 03:28:23 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com While discussing cellular telephones for dogs in rec.pets.dogs.breeds, rec.pets.dogs.behavior, alt.fan.beable, and alt.religion.kibology, Ron Hardin (rhhardin@mindspring.com) .signatured: > > -- > Ron Hardin > rhhardin@mindspring.com > > On the internet, nobody knows you're a jerk. Hey! I like to think that, at least in my case, some people can tell! -- K. ON THE INTERNET SOME PEOPLE MISTAKENLY ASSUME I'M NOT A JERK! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Parry has a big rear Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 06:03:18 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com "holefamily1" (holefamily1@webtv.net) wrote: > > Darla (darla4695@sprint.ca) wrote: > > > > "Lots42" (lots42@aol.com) wrote: > > > > > > As I was walking to work today, I saw a HUGE > > > eighteen wheeller. The back was white, except for > > > six red letters that spelled out 'Parry'. > > > > Why did it take six letters to spell out "Parry?" > > WHAT IS THE MISSING OR INVISIBLE LETTER IN KIBO'S > > NAME?!?! > > See, this is why that guy at Blockbuster is always trying to > short-change me. Darla, there are lots of invisible letters missing from my name. But that's not important right now. The visible letter missing from my name, the only one that counts as far as making the count not accurate, is the little tiny circled (K) which means that there's a secret tax whenever anyone who's not Jewish says my name. Also the diet version of Kibo(K) contains a secret ingredient that makes gay men sterile to keep them from breeding. And the thirteen stars around the logo represent the original thirteen stars on the flag of THE SATANIC UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! The little "33" on the bottom represents the speed at which you have to play the bottle backwards on a turntable to hear me read aloud a list of all the Playmates I've had sex with that month. (Curiously, in different parts of the country I am reported to have different amounts of sex each month.) I'm sorry, I can't think of any more urban legends about labels and logos and stars and sex at the moment. I'm sure you folks can continue making up my legend for me. -- K. P.S. Darla, does this mean you forgive me for being such a colossal jerk last month? Just please don't let it slip that I was a colossal jerk. It'll be my jerky little secret. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: rec.arts.bodyart,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Request to un-subscribe Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 06:08:24 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In rec.arts.bodyart, Field Horne (field@localnet.com) wrote: > > Please un-subscribe me. I didn't intend to subscribe. The number of > messages threatens to overwhelm my system. > > Thanks! Could I please unsubscribe about 75% of the other people on the Internet? That way there will be more space I can fill up with my stuff. Question: How much mass can a single bee lift? (Honey, not bumble -- we all know bumblebees can't fly.) I'm wondering how many bees I'd have to glue all over my body before I could hover. What sort of permanent, super-strong, non-removable glue is least irritating to bees? -- K. I got that idea while watching the movie of "The Avengers". I clearly remember thinking, "Wow, this movie is boring. It would be better if instead of watching this movie I just glued bees all over myself." ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: YOU WILL LIKE TO WEAR NO MORE PANTIES!!8 - http://Asiana-Teens.com Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 06:34:11 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.bonage, someone spammed: > > Subject: YOU WILL LIKE TO WEAR NO MORE PANTIES!!8 - http://Asiana-Teens.com Damn. I can't look at that site because I already don't like wearing panties. Is there some other site I can look at that will make me start wearing panties so that then I can go to Asiana-Teens.com and stop wearing panties? BY THE WAY IN CASE YOU COULDN'T TELL THAT WAS A STRAIGHT LINE! IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE! -- K. Also, if you turn "!!8" sideways, you get a smiley that's not wearing panties. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.edu,sci.psychology.misc,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: USING GREAT QUOTES FROM MOVIES TO MAKE A NEW MOVIE Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 07:04:37 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In sci.edu and sci.psychology.misc, everyone's favorite self-proclaimed "King of Science", Archimedes Plutonium (arc_plutonium@hotmail.com) wrote: > > I embark tomorrow but I am scared. This is one of the scariest > adventures I have ever undertaken. Let me guess, you're going to get a library card, Fonzie? (I can't think of anything scarier for Archie than the possibility that he might accidentally look something up in an encyclopedia.) > I suppose I could call it off > but the Uhaul trailer of 26' and Airstream 32' is a rig of 64'. It's them six-foot-long hitches what makes the math work. > I admit I am scared. Scared of not cutting wide enough of a > right hand turn or left hand turn. Scared of jackknifing and > scared of a flat tire on such a long rig. If it helps, Archie, you can borrow some of my confidence: I am not worried at all about your big rig jackknifing. > I am staying on Expressway as much as possible going from Florida > I-75 north through Atlanta onto St. Louis and finally Sioux City Iowa. I see, so you're ending your visit to the sites of all the great scientific discoveries by going to Iowa to see whether Dr. Alexander Abian faked his own death? I mean, "Abian" rhymes with "Kaufman" and "Alexander" sounds a little like "Andy"... ...no, wait, Andy Kaufman wasn't THAT crazy. He didn't want to blow up the moon, and he didn't drive around while eating candy in the name of science. > I am scared of getting diesel and getting stuck. Well, then, don't get diesel. Just fill up the whole truck with regular car gasoline. It'll make it run smoother. > I am going to try to stay on the Expressway all the way and > to stop only at truck stop fuel stations. Anyone have any advice. DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY ADVICE FOR ARCHIMEDES PLUTONIUM? If so, please write it in this space: +----+---++---+-----+---+---+ | | || | | | | | | | | |--| | || | | | | | | | | | | |- | | || | | | | |\ /| | | || | | | | || || +----+---++---+-----+---+---+ > Please post because I leave tomorrow. Hey! The advice worked! And we haven't even given it yet! > I just watched the I LOVE LUCY show on them hauling a trailer, > a huge trailer. Wow, so now you're even more of an expert on trailers than you are on science. > Perhaps I will like it after I drive some, but > right now, I am really fearful. I think I am going to pray alot > in the next 5 days. Be sure to take your hands off the wheel and press them firmly together while praying. > I guess this is the scariest adventure I have ever embarked > upon, and I guess I am going to do it because it is so > daring. Scarier than trying to file your own lawsuit against your employer and discovering you don't know the difference between "statute" and "statue"? > But after this trip I am not going to do anymore > scary things like this. The Uhaul is so huge and this is the > first time I have ever hauled a trailer. I am scared. Gee, Archie, it's not clear, but I am picking up a subtle hint that maybe you are scared. Also, for years we've been picking up an even MORE subtle hint that you're a nut. > Perhaps I got myself into something I should not have. Perhaps I will > feel better once I am on the Expressway and find out that I can > manage well at truck stop fuel stations and get back on the > Expressway. I fear being in the right-hand slow lane on the > Expressway and my next Expressway is way over in the left lanes. > > I have the notion that if I go slow enough on the offramp to get more > diesel fuel and on right hand turns or other turns I'm glad you specified "right hand turns or other turns" rather than just saying "turns" like a normal, imprecise, non-scientist would do. > that I can come through okay, that going slow > enough is the best answer to any such situation. > > And to stay in the slow lane of the Expressway, but what about > those Expressways where the Expressway changes. I take > I-75 through Atlanta then at Chattanooga I-24 then I-57 to > I-64 to I-70 to I-29 Yes, I think you should take all those isotopes of iodine. Also try drinking some of that other stuff... what's the name of that radioactive element which is more toxic per gram than anything else? I seem to recall it started with "Plutoni" and ended with "lutonium". > Anyone have some helpful suggestions such as whether the Expressways > above have left lane turns You know, Archie, they've invented this new thing called a map, and another thing called an atlas. You'd like the atlas. It's just like all the books you've ever read only with more words. > to change into the next Expressway or whether like I-75 through Atlanta > has a uncomplicated straight shot through on I-75 without having to > constantly move around lanes just to stay on I-75 > > I am going to pray more than usual in the next 5 days > > Looks like good weather for the next 5 days ARCHIMEDES PLUTONIUM, KING OF WEATHER! And then in a subsequent article, Archimedes Plutonium (arc_plutonium@hotmail.com) wrote: > > I prayed last night and my prayers were answered. My new friend > is going to accompany me so as to make sure I get there safe and sound. > I can never really remember being so scared before in my life. Imagine > hauling a 64' rig without ever doing such a thing. I feel much much > better now. Don't forget to pick up Fred and Ethel. -- K. "new" friend? Archie having a "new" friend is like "Alice In Wonderland" with regards to Alice having "more" tea. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.tv.sliders,rec.humor.oracle.d From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: An explanation is in order. [Xposted because it concerns members of the groups it's xposted to.] Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 07:56:39 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In alt.religion.kibology, alt.tv.sliders, and rec.humor.oracle.d, Julian Buczek (buczek@iname.com) wrote: > > [directed at David DeLaney] > > Oh, and didn't someone tell you to change your .sig the other > day? You should because it's all over the freakin' place! > *double sigh* > > -- > ____ Julian Buczek|buczek@dns.au.com > '||_\\ _ _ ___ ___ ___ '|| _ > || \\ '|| || // \) ' // //_\) ||// > _||_// \\_// \\__, //_, \\__, _||\\ Hey, Julian, I will pay you One Imaginary Internet Dollar (here it is: --> $ <--) if you can do a complete font in that style (26 uppercase, 26 lowercase, 10 digits, and enough punctuation so that we can make smileys out of it.) Your .signature font blows Greg Alt's out of the water! Well, his is more compact. But yours has thick and thin strokes and sassy li'l serifs. They should print textbooks in your .signature font! -- K. The big question is, are the individual slashes and underscores in Courier, Helvetica, Times, or Zapf Dingbats? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.tv.sliders From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: An explanation is in order. [Xposted because it concerns members of the groups it's xposted to.] X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 07:18:13 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Julian Buczek (buczek@iname.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > Hey, Julian, I will pay you One Imaginary Internet Dollar > > (here it is: --> $ <--) if you can do a complete font in that > > style (26 uppercase, 26 lowercase, 10 digits, and enough > > punctuation so that we can make smileys out of it.) > > You asked for it, so here it is: > > ___ > __\\ > ((_||_ > > '|| __ > ||/ \\ > _||__// > > ___ > // \) > \\__, > > __ ||` > // \|| > \\__||_ > > [etc.] Wow! I am impressed. It all matches! I don't want to say WHAT it matches, but you gotta admit, it all matches! Here is your Imaginary Internet Dollar: --> $ <-- I suggest you convert it to your font before you spend it, because that will make it bigger. I'd still like to see the following characters in your font: * ? % & @ and all the best Zapf Dingbats. Can you do a perfectly symmetrical five-pointed star? I nearly went insane trying to make one on a small grid once. > > Your .signature font blows Greg Alt's out of the water! > > Well, his is more compact. But yours has thick and thin > > strokes and sassy li'l serifs. They should print textbooks > > in your .signature font! > > The publishing houses' offers regarding the usage of my font > were not very encouraging money wise. I'd rather hold out. Try selling your font to MTV. They'll fill the screen with ANYTHING that looks sufficiently weird. (This explains Pauly Shore.) > ... everything smells cheap in alt.tv.sliders, including Christmas! Damn! I've been paying hundreds of Imaginary Internet Dollars to smell stuff! I'm going to go over to alt.tv.sliders where I can smell for free! -- K. (Why would anyone bother to bathe on a holiday?) ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.food.sushi,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: JAPANESE FOODS Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 08:07:03 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Ted Frank (moe@Radix.Net) wrote: > > In Raleigh, I saw the strangest thing, called a "crunchy roll." > It was a maki roll where the center consisted entirely of fried tempura > batter. Very disturbing. Sounds good, as long as it didn't have anything else in it. I keep wishing the Super 88 Super Market would get more bags of chicken rinds. By the way, Ted, I just fixed a mistake in my scorefile -- I was giving you 6 points instead of the usual 3900. So please tell me how many articles you've posted lately, multiply by 3894, and I'll mail you that many points. Then you can post one article that scores in the millions and everything will be back to normal. -- K. I'm glad you said it was FRIED tempura batter and not BOILED tempura batter. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #1 (repost) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 22:51:23 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com For Christmas 1999, I shall humbly tender the following gift to mankind: Reposts of my previous "The Special Show!" gifts to mankind, followed tomorrow by some all-new episodes of "The Special Show!". This was determined by the whims and vagaries of popular vote, so if you don't agree that this was the best Christmas gift ever, then you should just grab a gun and start shooting all those people who voted for you to have a Merry X-Mas. Anyway, let's get on with the reruns! And remember, tomorrow, you shall see something new, so new I haven't even written it yet! ----------------------------------------------------------------- RERUN Copyright (C) 1996 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= 12/4/96 BROADCAST FADE IN A stern-looking, rather wide NURSE (who looks like Chris Farley after a sex change, with glasses) is dressed entirely in white, standing in front of a white padded wall. There is a window which shows an all-white landscape made out of paper. NURSE I'm sorry, you're not allowed to watch normal television any more. You have to watch... THE SPECIAL SHOW. She pulls a TV cart into view from screen right. The TV's case is painted white, as is the cart. A WORKMAN dressed in white coveralls and white painter's cap follows, touching up the white paint on the TV. The TV shows a revolving chrome logo that spells out "THE SPECIAL SHOW". As the announcer reads the title, the workman begins painting the screen white. TV ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The! Special! Mmmmmmph! FADE TO WHITE FADE TO: KIBO, our host, is the perfect host for this show. He is someone that insane people will love and trust. His hair is the tip-off. He is standing in front of a psychedelic background, wearing a fireman's coat. He will appear thus between film clips. KIBO Hey everybody! Let's have some fun! SFX: TRUMPET FANFARE SMASH-CUT TO: TITLE CARD: FUNNY FUNNY CANDY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Funny! Funny! Candy! KIBO is holding a small piece of candy in each hand. KIBO (excited) Nougat... (re his other hand) ...antinougat! (He touches them together and we see stock footage of the Earth exploding, then we see Kibo with black smudges all over his face.) TITLE CARD: FUNNY FUNNY CANDY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Funny! Funny! Candy! KIBO his holding a large block of something wet. KIBO (whiny) My fuuuudge won't stop bleeeeding! TITLE CARD: FUNNY FUNNY CANDY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Funny! Funny! Candy! KIBO is waving a blackboard eraser in front of a bluescreen, which is showing a close-up of a bowl of canned chili. KIBO (happy) I'm erasing chili! TITLE CARD: CANDY ALL GONE ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (singsong) Candy all gone! DISSOLVE TO: KIBO against the psychedelic background again. KIBO Wow, wasn't that funny? No, it wasn't "funny", it was "funny funny"! Now let's see something "funny funny funny"! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: THE STRANGER ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (whispering) The stranger... FADE TO: A grizzled GAS STATION ATTENDANT is sitting in a rocking chair by the side of the road in the middle of the desert. A FILTHY DISGUSTING BUM walks up. FILTHY DISGUSTING BUM (articulate) Pardon me, but I could use some directions as I appear to be lost. GAS STATION ATTENDANT You filthy disgusting bum, your body is covered with head lice and foot odor and you never take a bath and you smell like cheese! FILTHY DISGUSTING BUM Yeah, but at least I ain't lost! FAST-MOTION WITH WACKY MUSIC: The ATTENDANT kicks the BUM in the butt several times and chases him off to the horizon, waving his arms frantically. CUT TO: KIBO, against the psychedelic background. KIBO Whee! Do you wanna see something seeeecret? (KIBO walks over to an easel holding up a large geometric diagram) KIBO Loooooooook! The pennnntagon is full of hexagons! SFX: WACKY BOING TITLE CARD: THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The! Most! Dangerous! Game! A BOY and GIRL are sitting on the floor. The boy rolls a handful of dice. He picks up two and rolls them again. He picks up one and rolls it again. BOY Yahtzee! The both drop dead. TITLE CARD: KIBO'S SCIENCE SEGMENT KIBO is in front of a large jail cell which has a sign saying "ALL THE SCIENTISTS IN THE WORLD". Several are inside. ALBERT EINSTEIN has his head stuck between the bars. KIBO Hello, Einstein! EINSTEIN (crying) Kibo, I admit I was wrong to oppose your brilliant theory that the entire Universe is just a huge holographic fractal made of water vapor! All past scientific discoveries pale in comparison with your one true theory that explains all science forever! KIBO (very cheerful) Sorry! Not good enough. KIBO cuts Einstein's head off with a giant pair of scissors and opens the door. EINSTEIN'S HEADLESS BODY runs out. We see Einstein's body running through the streets, scaring people. The body rides through a car wash and at the other end, only Einstein's skeleton comes out. TITLE CARD: THAT'S A BIG SHEET OF PAPER ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (honestly impressed) That's a big sheet of paper! BOY #2 is lying on an endless sheet of paper that goes to the horizon. He is doodling with crayons. A signpost stuck in the paper about twenty feet away says "Welcome to Paperlandia". BOY #2 (singing to himself) La, la, la, la da da... MOM (walking past from screen right) Honey, you've gotta write smaller because the paper is so big. INSERT: Close-up of boy's "can you believe this?" expression. SFX: WACKY SPLAT BOY #2 goes back to coloring. POP (walking past from screen right) Honey, if you keep writing that small, we'll have to get you glasses you don't need! INSERT: Same close-up SFX: WACKY RICOCHET BOY #2 goes back to coloring. MOM & POP (together, as they walk past from screen right) Son, you're perfect just the way you are. In fact, you're too perfect. No TV for you tonight! BOY #2 But, Mom & Pop, you said I could watch "The Special Show"! MOM & POP (shouting from offscreen) Not until you resign from the Presidency! INSERT: Same close-up SFX: TAPE OF "HAIL TO THE CHIEF" CUT TO: KIBO, in front of the psychedelic background. He is still wearing the fireman's coat. KIBO (as the background bursts into flame) Well, did you like the show? I sure did. Tune in next week, when we'll show you why computers don't like me! THE PICTURE CRUMPLES UP INTO A LITTLE BALL AND FLIES OFF INTO OUTER SPACE, WHERE IT EXPLODES. LETTERS COME OUT OF THE EXPLOSION AND SWIRL AROUND TO SPELL OUT "THE END". FADE TO WHITE FADE TO: The NURSE in the white room is using a fire hose on the white TV as it burns. The paper landscape is also burning. A man dressed as NAPOLEON runs past the window, laughing. NAPOLEON I'm free! I'm free! NURSE I curse your genius, Napoleon! NAPOLEON Tee-hee! FADE TO BLACK TITLE CARD: A PRODUCTION OF THE SPECIAL CHANNEL ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Bye-bye! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #2 (repost) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 22:54:49 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Another repost of a classic episode of "The Special Show!" to prepare your as-yet-un-fully-formed minds for the dawning of tomorrow's premiere of "The Special Show's Very Special X-Mas Special Show!" ----------------------------------------------------------------- RERUN THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= EPISODE #2: FUDGE... COMING UP! (first broadcast 12/28/96) Copyright (C) 1996 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. FADE IN A stern-looking, rather wide NURSE (who looks like a much larger Mel Torme after a sex change, with glasses) is dressed entirely in white, standing in front of a white padded wall. NURSE That isn't funny! Give me that! She reaches past the camera and takes a white rubber chicken from the viewer. NURSE Instead, you can take your medication... or you can watch this. The camera pans over to an endless white corridor with no doors or windows. A white TV on a white cart rolls into view from screen left. The screen shows a revolving chrome logo, "THE SPECIAL SHOW". ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The! Special! Show! As he shouts that, the TV begins to roll away from us, down the corridor, very rapidly. The hand-held camera runs after it as it recedes into the distance. FADE TO WHITE FADE TO: KIBO, our cheerful host, is dressed like a Cossack, standing in front of a giant photographic blowup of a microchip. There are giant cockroaches crawling along the circuitry. He will be in front of this background, dressed like this, during all the host segments. KIBO Hello, my name is Kibo. Welcome to the second fun-packed episode of The Special Show! Since our last episode, we've received thousands of letters asking why we don't do more educational segments. Here's an educational segment! TITLE CARD: THE GREAT INVENTION ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The great invention! Two NERDS, wearing lab coats, are standing behind a lab table. The one on the left holds a comb with a radio antenna. The one on the right has a toothbrush with a radio antenna. COMB NERD Thanks to this high-powered transmitter, now I can comb my hair while he brushes his teeth! TOOTH NERD We will show you now! The COMB NERD combs his hair, the TOOTH NERD brushes his teeth. They finish. COMB NERD Wow! That was refreshing! TOOTH NERD Yes! It was! Lightning bolts jump between their heads for several seconds as they scream in agony. The lightning bolts disappear and the NERDS are all scorched. COMB NERD My hair burned off! TOOTH NERD My teeth fell out! BOTH NERDS (together) Now we have made hygiene unnecessary forever. Hooray! INSERT: Still picture of rubber duck SFX: wacky slide whistle noises TITLE CARD: ANOTHER GENIUS ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Another genius! KIBO and STEPHEN HAWKING are in front of the microchip backdrop. KIBO Professor Hawking, what are two and two? HAWKING (robotic voice) I, cannot, tell, you, the, answer, because, I, cannot, talk. SUPERIMPOSE a big red "X" over Hawking's head. (It stays there.) SFX: Buzzer HAWKING Now, I, must, wear, the, X, of, shame, forever. KIBO Well, I guess he's learned his lesson! TITLE CARD: JUST LIKE MOMMY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Just like mommy! A little GIRL is pretending to vacuum the rug with a toy vacuum cleaner, one of the transparent ones with little plastic pellets bouncing around the inside. Pan over to reveal that MOMMY is pushing a larger transparent vacuum cleaner, with a cup of coffee, a rolled-up newspaper, and high-heeled shoes bouncing around inside. INSERT: closeup of shocked little girl SFX: xylophone glissando TITLE CARD: OUT TO SEA ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Out to sea! A CAPTAIN and FIRST MATE are on an old-time sailing ship. Their clothes are tattered as if they have been at sea a very long time. They have beards. The captain has an eyepatch. The mate is looking through a telescope. FIRST MATE Land ho! CAPTAIN Let me see! The FIRST MATE holds out the telescope, which still has his eyeball attached to the back end. The CAPTAIN hands him the eyepatch and jams the eyeball into his eye socket. CAPTAIN Yes, there it is! Set course for the land! FIRST MATE Aye aye, Skipper! We see the ship pull up to a Monopoly board floating in the water. The MATE jumps onto it. FIRST MATE I win! CAPTAIN No, I win! He pulls a lever and the boat zooms up into the air with jet engines, and disappears. FIRST MATE Rats. I always lose this game! INSERT: Close-up of pewter cannon, dog, and shoe running around his feet, Gumby-style. SFX: foghorn CUT TO: KIBO, against the microchip backdrop. KIBO Well, everyone should be satisfied now that we've shown six educational segments so far tonight! But let's not forget that part of this show is PURE FUN! Here it is... TITLE CARD: GREATEST DISASTER EVER ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Greatest disaster ever! Two BOYS are eating school lunches on the playground, from brown paper bags. BOY #1 takes out a small globe of the Earth and bites it. BOY #2 I'll trade you some of my peanut butter for a bite of Australia. BOY #1 Oops! He drops his Earth into the other boy's open jar of peanut butter. BOY #2 You got your Earth in my peanut butter! BOY #1 Oh no, the world is doomed! They both scream as a hundred gallons of peanut butter fall on them. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE CARD: THE FOLLOWING SEGMENT IS RECOMMENDED FOR VIOLENT PSYCHOPATHS ONLY. DISCRETION OF THE WARD STAFF IS ADVISED. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE CARD: MEET THE MIDGET ANNOUNCER (V.O., whispering) Meet the midget! REX REED and RAQUEL WELCH, in matching lace outfits, are dancing down the street, holding hands. WELCH Look, a midget! REED Let's get him, sister! They take baseball bats from behind their backs and start beating the MIDGET. This continues for about twenty minutes. MATCH-CUT to turn the MIDGET into a crying BABY in a diaper. WELCH Now he's cured! REED How lucky for all Mankind! Holding hands, they skip off down the street. The BABY cries for a little while, then finds a twenty-dollar bill in the street, and tears it up into confetti, which he throws in the air. INSERT: Close-up of baby laughing SFX: Crowd shouting "Way to go, baby!" FREEZE ON LAUGHING BABY. DISSOLVE TO: KIBO, in front of the microchip and cockroaches. And now, here's a little something for the paranoid schizophrenics! This scene takes place on a stage. Two MEN in business suits, each carrying a briefcase, a newspaper, and an umbrella, meet. MAN #1 Hello, old chap. MAN #2 Hello, old bean. MAN #1 Say, are you stealing my thoughts with your secret third eye? MAN #2 Why, no, I am not. MAN #1 I believe you. INSERT: Camera zooming in and out madly on revolving red light for five seconds SFX: Alarm klaxon MAN #2 However, I suspect you are stealing my thoughts. MAN #1 How could I be stealing your thoughts, when you have no head? MAN #2 Oh. I forgot. INSERT: Still picture of yellow "smiley" SFX: Ding The two MEN depart. The curtain comes down. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE CARD: MEAT GRINDER ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Meat Grinder! A gourmet CHEF puts a pork chop into his meat grinder and begins turning the crank. Instead of ground meat, a human hand comes out of the other side of the grinder! It picks up a nearby gun and shoots the chef. FADE TO BLACK FADE IN: KIBO is playing chess with ALBERT EINSTEIN, using a comically large chessboard with foot-tall pieces. Kibo moves one of his pieces. Einstein reaches into his ear and pulls out his brain, which he sets on the board. Kibo jumps one of his knights over it and grabs the brain. KIBO Ha! I won your brain, Professor Einstein! Now I am TWICE as smart as you! EINSTEIN Now I must burn everything I ever wrote because I am stupid. KIBO Have no fear, Professor Einstein, this will be our little secret! Nobody will ever realize you have no brain! (confidentially to the camera) Except us. (winks) EINSTEIN sets a sheaf of papers on fire with a cigarette lighter. His sweater and hair catch fire and he runs around in circles screaming with his whole body in flames! EINSTEIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! His body explodes in a little nuclear mushroom cloud. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: A SURPRISE VISIT FROM BOB HOPE ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now... a surprise visit from Bob Hope! A curtain rises. A TEAMSTER wheels in a mummified corpse with its feet nailed to a dolly. The Teamster exits. "Bob Hope" speaks, his lips being operated by large and obvious wires leading offscreen. BOB HOPE (V.O. that sounds nothing like him) Hi, everybody, I'm Bob Hope. Hey, how about the current President? He's much better than the one we used to have. Instead of doing that thing the other guy used to do, now he does the other thing the current President is known for! (long pause for laughter that doesn't come) And now I shall do my little dance. SFX: Tape of "Rock Around The Clock" More wires start tilting Bob Hope back and forth. BOB HOPE (V.O.) La la la... la la la... la la la... la la la... CUT TO: TITLE CARD: FUNNY BUS-NESS ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Funny bus hyphen ness! We see a row of yellow school buses waiting at the end of the school day. The camera pans down the line to the end, where we see the little bus. A cowboy is sitting on the roof, waving his hat in the air and hollering. COWBOY YEEEE-HAAAAAA! YEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAA! (turns to the camera; speaks without any emotion) They go faster when I do this. YEEEEE-HAAAAAAA! YEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAA! A boy, STEVIE, gets off the bus. Two BULLIES point at him and laugh. BULLY #1 Ha ha ha ha! Stevie rides the little bus! BULLY #2 Hey little bus boy! Ha ha ha ha ha! MICHAEL JORDAN gets of the bus. BULLY #1 Michael Jordan! MICHAEL JORDAN (putting his hand on Stevie's shoulder) Hey guys, why are you making fun of my pal Stevie? BULLY #2 'Cause he rides the little bus! BULLY #1 Yeah and also we think we are better than him! MICHAEL JORDAN Is that so? Well, I'll have you know that the little bus uses less gas than a full-size bus. Therefore it's better for the environment and the so the kids who ride it are better than you! The BULLIES burst into tears and run away, rubbing their knuckles against their eyes. MICHAEL JORDAN Looks like they're learning their lessons the hard way. STEVIE Gosh, Michael Jordan, when I grow up, can I be the world's greatest basketball player like you? MICHAEL JORDAN Sure, Stevie, but only if you ride the little bus. COWBOY (without emotion) When I grow up I'm going to be Abraham Lincoln. YEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAA! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! CUT TO: KIBO, in the Cossack outfit, in front of the roach-covered microchip. KIBO Wow, I sure learned a lot! If you learned as much as me, stay tuned for more fun! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: FUDGE ANNOUNCER Fudge! We see a close-up of a block of fudge for about fifteen seconds. ANNOUNCER You're welcome! CUT TO: KIBO waves goodbye. KIBO Good night, everyone! Sleep careful! CUT TO: The white TV set rolls down the endless hallway until it approaches a door at the far end. A POLICEMAN in an all-white uniform opens the white door. The TV cart goes through (along with the camera) and falls into a pit of flames! SATAN Ha! I've got you now, Special Show! ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Special Show will be back next week! SATAN Curse you, voice from the air! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: A PRODUCTION OF THE SPECIAL CHANNEL ANNOUNCER (V.O.) We always win! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #3 (repost) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 22:59:02 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com You, the viewers of "The Special Show!", have spoken! When asked if you wanted to see MORE of "The Special Show!" or LESS of "The Special Show!", you said MORE, MORE, MORE! So I'm rerunning every classic episode of "The Special Show!" tonight and tomorrow will be the premiere of a very special Christmas episode! The special people have spoken! ----------------------------------------------------------------- RERUN THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= EPISODE #3: THE BOUNCING BABY BRICK! (first broadcast 7/9/97) Copyright (C) 1997 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. FADE IN Inside an all-white padded room, a guy in a white straightjacket is screaming. A NURSE in a white uniform (she looks like a female Peter Graves) enters and zaps him with a TV remote control. He turns into static momentarily and then becomes THE SPECIAL SHOW logo floating in mid-air. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The! Special! Show! FADE TO WHITE FADE TO: KIBO, the most trusted television personality as determined by a survey of insane people, is wearing a wacky clown costume covered with bright polka dots of every color imaginable. His wacky wide necktie says "E=mc^2" in large letters. He is standing in front of a giant, revolving globe of the Earth. Offscreen archers are shooting arrows into the Earth. Kibo will introduce each segment of The Special Show from this set. KIBO Hello, my name is Kibo. Welcome to the third episode of The Special Show! This one's a real doozy. It'll be so spectacular, it'll make history! And speaking of history, many of you have written us asking for more sketches about politics, particularly the conspiracy to build a subway tunnel for UFOs to travel between Washington and Four Corners. So without any further ado... FADE TO BLACK FADE IN: TITLE CARD: POLITICS AS USUAL ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Politics as usual! BILL CLINTON and his wife, HILLARY, are in bed in the Oval Office. MUSIC: SCRATCHY RECORD OF "HAIL TO THE CHIEF" PLAYING SOFTLY THROUGHOUT SCENE BILL CLINTON Honey, I've got it. HILLARY CLINTON I thought the doctor said-- BILL CLINTON No, I mean I've found the answer, at long last, to my problem. HILLARY CLINTON You mean you've finally come up with the idea that will let you dominate all world history for all future generations? BILL CLINTON Yes. I will fake my own assassination. Then they will be able to put my picture on stamps and coins. Later I will come out of hiding. Because all stamps and coins will have MY picture, they will become my property! I will be able to buy the world! HILLARY CLINTON And I will be able to replace people with robots! The bed begins to bounce up and down. BILL CLINTON Honey, what's that? HILLARY CLINTON Oh, honey, I mean to tell you earlier, but... well, the waterbed isn't filled with WATER. BILL CLINTON Then what the hell did you fill our waterbed with? HILLARY CLINTON Communists! The bed rips open and a COMMUNIST (with a long beard) pops out between them. He is holding a spherical black bomb with a sparkler in the top. COMMUNIST In the name of the new world order, I claim this bed in the name of anarchy! JOHN F. KENNEDY also sticks his head out of the bag. JOHN F. KENNEDY Hey! I already did that! HILLARY CLINTON (pointing offscreen) Gosh! Look at Chelsea! She's escaped from the lab again! A ROBOT, wearing a sign around its neck which says "CHELSEA CLINTON MARK II", rolls into the room. ROBOT (waving its arms) Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! BILL CLINTON Oh, honey, it's wonderful, she's just like us! STOCK FOOTAGE: ATOMIC BOMB EXPLOSION FADE TO BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Special Show will be back after the following commercial. FADE IN: A GUERRILLA, in camouflage fatigues, is running through a tropical jungle with a huge backpack. Somewhere a schoolbell rings. His foot snags a hidden trip wire, and he falls, as cans of Beefaroni spill from his backpack. GUERILLA (as he falls) Yaaaaagh! The camera PANS ACROSS his hideously mangled body and the cans of Beefaroni that litter the ground. RADIO (V.O.) Murphy! Johnson! School is out! Repeat, school is out! REVEAL that ANDY DICK JR., in a bright red shirt, with tomato sauce all over his face, is eating from one of the cans of Beefaroni. ANDY DICK JR. MMMMMMMMM!!!!!!! BEEFY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He begins to dance on the GUERILLA's corpse. FADE TO BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now, back to The Special Show! FADE IN: KIBO is wearing a different necktie, which says "E=mc^2" in a different typeface. KIBO Now, The Special Show would like to present a very special segment for our special audience! (whispering into the camera lens) This means you! TITLE CARD: AT THE TOP OF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING ANNOUNCER (V.O.) At the top of the Empire State Building! Three GUYS are standing on the observation deck at the top of the Empire State Building. Behind them is a steel tower with blinking lights all over it and a sign which says "DEADLY MICROWAVE TRANSMITTER". GUY #1 In college I had a physics professor who said that there was no up or down in space and that gravity was a relative concept. GUY #2 What a load of hogwash! GUY #3 Yeah, total bunk! GUY #1 I suppose then YOU'D say that if I stepped over this railing, I'd fall "down". GUY #2 Yes, you'll die, because we disagree with your theory. GUY #3 No theory can save you from plummeting to a hideous death! GUY #1 Here I go! GUY #1 steps over the railing and is left standing in mid-air. GUY #2 and GUY #3 scream as they are hurled upward, out of frame, at tremendous velocity! GUY #1 Just goes to show you, you can prove anything with "science". MUSIC: WACKY STING FADE TO BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Special Show will be back after the following commercial. FADE IN: KIBO is on a boat (with several other people) looking through a telescope. KIBO I've waited my whole life to see the elusive blueback whale and Halley's comet! WOMAN You're kidding! KIBO Hey, my gum lost its flavor! Where's the flavor? KIBO takes off his shoe and starts looking inside it. Meanwhile, Halley's Comet zooms past and a whale jumps over it! WOMAN Oh! That is so spiritual! (to Kibo) Maybe somebody got it on videotape. KIBO But what will become of me now? WOMAN You'll be executed... of course. KIBO And to think none of this would have happened if I hadn't chewed gum! CLOSE-UP of a pack of Extra sugarfree gum. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Don't chew gum! But if you do, chew Extra, the only gum that contains a special chemical that lets you see whales jumping over comets! FADE TO BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now, back to The Special Show. FADE UP: KIBO, standing in front of the globe again. KIBO Well, that commercial was most entertaining. And I got free gum! But now... a change of pace. (The image darkens and the camera tilts. Kibo is lit from the side.) It's time for a visit to... (cut to camera #2, in extreme close- up. Kibo spins around to face it.) ...THE FUDGE FACTORY!!! FX: THUNDER MUSIC: EERIE TITLE CARD: THE FUDGE FACTORY (superimpose lightning bolts) ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE FUDGE FACTORY!!!!!!!! MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING ESTABLISHING SHOT: Front of restaurant with a sign, "The Fudge Factory". CUT TO: DAN, MOLLY, and NED are reading menus in a fancy restaurant. The WAITER approaches their table. WAITER (very snooty) Good evening. And how are we tonight? May I take your order? DAN (hands him a menu) I'll have six servings of ultra-greasy deep-fried onion rings in curry sauce, and a side order of warm durian Jell-O. MOLLY (hands him her menu) I'll have the expired creamed chipped beef topped with runny lutefisk and grated Ex-Lax. NED I don't like fancy restaurants. Hey, this menu's all weird. What kind of restaurant is this? WAITER (snooty) Monsieur, The Fudge Factory is the world's only restaurant where you go to GET diarrhea! NED Oh! I understand perfectly. I'll just cut to the chase and order a big bowl of diarrhea. WAITER (snooty) A big bowl of diarrhea. Is that all? NED No, wait... I think I'll have the diarrhea... MIXED WITH COTTAGE CHEESE. Everyone in the room does a spit-take; general shouts of "Ewwwww!" and "Gross!" MUSIC: WACKY STING IRIS IN TO BLACK IRIS OUT TO: KIBO is standing in front of the globe again, with another "E=mc^2" necktie. KIBO You know, fancy restaurants aren't the only places to serve bathroom humor! CUT TO: NED and his friend FRED are standing in a black limbo set next to a large wacky sign which says "BUS STOP", with one backwards "S". NED Hey, let's go to Diaper Burger! FRED No way! I'm not eating at no Diaper Burger! NED But they have the best burgers in the world. They're and are nutritious and delicious and contain no diapers. FRED But then why is it called Diaper Burger? NED Here, try this one and you'll see. NED hands him one. FRED takes a bite, and his pants disappear. He is now wearing diapers. FX: DING FRED Wow! This burger tastes so good I don't mind wearing diapers! SEVERAL OTHER PEOPLE WEARING DIAPERS dance into view. SEVERAL OTHER PEOPLE WEARING DIAPERS That goes double for us! (singing and high-kicking) Diapers... diapers... diapers! La la la la DIAPERS!!!! NED See, I told you Diaper Burger was better than anything. Try another bite! FRED takes another bite, and with a "ding!" his head turns into a talking diaper. DIAPERHEAD FRED Golly! These burgers are super! NED (to the camera) Diaper Burger! Eat one today! SEVERAL OTHER PEOPLE WEARING DIAPERS La la la la la DIAPERS DIAPERS DIAPERS!!! A giant diaper on wheels, with a "BUS" sign on the side (with a backwards "S") pulls up, and they get into it. EVERYONE We love Diaper Burger! ANNOUNCER (V.O.) You must eat burger to wear diaper. FX: DING CUT TO: KIBO, wearing yet another "E=mc^2" necktie. KIBO But enough hilarity. He rips off his clown wig and nose and takes off the funny tie. The background changes to a giant close-up of a row of disembodied doll heads lit from beneath. KIBO This is the IMPORTANT part of The Special Show. High culture or low culture? You decide. The fate of the world hangs in the balance. TITLE CARD: FOR MUSIC LOVERS ANNOUNCER (V.O.) For Music Lovers! A LITTLE GIRL has toy xylophone. Very slowly, she strikes each note in sequence. Standing next to her, ALBERT EINSTEIN puts his hands over his ears each time she hits a note. She hits the final one, and his head explodes. She giggles. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: THE NEXT SEGMENT HAS A SURPRISE ENDING ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Warning: the following segment has a surprise ending. FULLER BRUSH SALESMAN (holding a box of brushes) Hello, I would like to CUT TO: BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE END! FADE IN: KIBO is in front of the eerie doll heads. KIBO Well, that's the end of another wonderful episode of CUT TO: BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE END! CUT TO: CLOSE-UP of the screaming straightjacket guy. Pull back to reveal he is rolling around on the floor of the padded room. There are bloodstains dripping down the walls. The nurse is holding a large inflatable duck-shaped pool toy, the kind with the hole in the middle. NURSE And just for that, you'll get CUT TO: BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE END! Hold on black for several seconds. FX: FLIES BUZZING ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #4 (repost) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 23:04:02 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com What, did you think I was going to rerun episodes 1 through 3 and not episode 4 during this "Sci-Fi Channel Battlestar Galactica Chain Reaction Marathon"? Okay, this isn't a "Battlestar Galactica" marathon. But it seems to be on my TV for some reason while I'm rerunning every episode of "The Special Show!" to create a Special Marathon that will prepare you for the Special Premiere of a Special New X-Mas Episode! What I don't understand about this Sci-Fi Channel "Chain Reaction Marathon" is that Bill Cullen isn't anywhere in it. ----------------------------------------------------------------- RERUN T H E S P E C I A L S H O W >-----------------------------< episode #4: EVERYBODY LOVES FUDGE (first broadcast 7/10/97) Copyright (C) 1997 James "Kibo" Parry <-----------------------------------> FADE IN: We are in an all-white padded room with no apparent doors or windows. A NURSE, who looks like a female Michael Moore, is whacking the viewer with a large broom. NURSE Take that! ... and that! ... (stops whacking) Oh, it's YOU. I forgot, I'm required to let you watch... The Special Show. She thumps the wall with her fist. A small secret door is opened from the outside and someone shoves a small white plastic TV into the room. The screen shows the revolving chrome logo of THE SPECIAL SHOW. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE!!! SPECIAL!!! SHOW!!! NURSE And when you're done watching TV it's time for your OTHER medication. CUT TO: KIBO, our host, is a man that crazy people know and trust. He is dressed as Caligula, and is standing in front of a large photographic backdrop of the Colloseum in Rome. Behind him, people are running back and forth with torches, screaming, while a guy in a gorilla suit chases them. KIBO Hello, and welcome to the fourth episode of The Special Show, the show which is only understandable by very special people! I am your host, Kibo! Let the wackiness begin! GUY WITH BRIEFCASE I am waiting for a bus. A bus falls on him. Blood comes out from under it. Several LITTLE GIRLS run over excitedly, dip their hands in the blood, and lick them. MUSIC: DANCE OF THE CUCKOOS CUT TO: TITLE CARD: EVERYONE LOVES LUCY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Everyone Loves Lucy! DISSOLVE TO: Office interior. LUCY and her new BOSS are there. There is an open pit/vat of chocolate syrup set into the floor. BOSS Lucy, welcome to your new job at my accounting firm. Your job is to do an interpretive dance representing Dan Rather. And whatever you do... don't fall into that pit filled with chocolate syrup. LUCY Okay! BOSS Now get to work. I'll come back to check on you at midnight. LUCY Okey dokey! Bye bye! The BOSS exits and LUCY begins twirling around slowly with her arms outstretched. LUCY La la la la, look at me, I'm Dan Rather, la la la... There is a flash of light and MICHAEL JORDAN materializes next to her. LUCY Wow, Michael Jordan! MICHAEL JORDAN Lucy, I'm here to remind all the people watching that the kids on the little bus all grew up to be very special, even if they're misunderstood and locked in mental institutions. Someday they'll conquer the world and show us all! LUCY Right on! MICHAEL JORDAN Oh, and I almost forgot-- He pushes LUCY into the vat of chocolate syrup and disappears. LUCY I can't swim! Help me, Michael Jordan! Help! Help! Waaaaaaaaah! Two WORKMEN in overalls carry a huge Tupperware lid onto the set. They seal it over the top of the vat. Then they set a desk and chair on top of the lid. KIBO, still wearing his toga, enters and sits at the desk. KIBO I hope you're enjoying The Special Show as much as I'm enjoying it. That last sketch was great, wasn't it? And it was funny because it was true! And now from the world of truth to the world of science... TITLE CARD: AT THE STINKY SCIENCE MUSEUM ANNOUNCER (V.O.) At The Stinky Science Museum! MAN #1 Pee-yew, it stinks in here! WOMAN #1 Yeah, it's real smelly all right! MUSEUM GUIDE Heh-heh-heh, shows how much YOU know. That's the smell of SCIENCE! MAN #1 & WOMAN #1 (together) Wow! MUSEUM GUIDE Now if you'll please follow me, you'll see what's inside your bodies right now. Over here (gestures at a giant model) we have the a giant model of the human heart. And over here (gestures at a giant poster of a human brain hanging in the middle of the room) is an enlargement of the human brain. And over here is the world's largest intestine! We see a giant coiled-up intestine, hanging from wires. The camera pans along it as it squiggles across the room. The camera follows it until it goes into the back of a guy's pants. INTESTINE GUY (shrugs) It's a living... FX: RUMBLING NOISE The camera begins shaking as everything rumbles. The INTESTINE GUY looks distressed. The camera follows the rumbling down the length of the intestine to the other end, which is open. A skunk comes out! WOMAN #1 Eek, a skunk! MAN #1 I am too timid to appreciate science! They run away, tearing through the giant photo of the human brain. ALBERT EINSTEIN ENTERS. EINSTEIN (tears in his eyes) That was MY brain. (cries like a baby) The MUSEUM GUIDE blows a whistle and several MUSEUM GUARDS, in Nazi uniforms, enter. They start beating Einstein with truncheons as the GUIDE kicks him. EINSTEIN My brain... my beautiful brain... INSERT: Close-up of the skunk looking into the camera and winking CUT TO: KIBO, wearing the toga, against the Roman backdrop. People are still running around screaming. KIBO That wasn't just a fine piece of satire, it was required viewing for all! But I should warn you that those of you who aren't regular viewers of The Special Show might not appreciate the following piece. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: THE ROBOT THAT DIDN'T ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Robot That Didn't! DISSOLVE TO: A ROBOT made from a cardboard box covered in tinfoil, with furniture casters for feet, is having a moral dilemma. It is holding a small box with a red button. ROBOT I cannot decide what to do. If I push this button, everyone in the world will die. But if I do not push this button, I will die. What to do, what to do... It sits down and thinks about it for a moment. ROBOT I've got it! I know what to do! I'll kill everyone the OLD-FASHIONED way, with nuclear death rays! It opens a door in its chest and red lightning bolts come out. From offscreen we hear millions of screaming people dying in agony. ROBOT Now I no longer need this! It throws the box on the ground. EINSTEIN enters and picks it up. He grins evilly and pushes the button again and again and again and again and again. EINSTEIN Wait, I changed my mind-- His whole body explodes. The ROBOT dances on what's left of his corpse. MUSIC: HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN (instrumental) TITLE CARD: WHO WANTS PIE? ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Who Wants Pie? CUT TO: Close-up of a pie sitting on a table. Hold for five seconds. FX: BUZZING FLIES TITLE CARD: NOBODY! ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Nobody! FX: DING-DING-DING-DING ANNOUNCER (V.O., whisper) Because it might be poison! CUT TO: KIBO is still in his toga front of his backdrop. Slow zoom on him during this speech. KIBO (ominously) Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to warn you that the following dramatization did not actually happen. It is a work of fiction. It DID NOT HAPPEN. DISSOLVE TO: STOCK FOOTAGE: AIRPLANE LANDING TRUMAN BRADLEY (played by himself) is at an airport customs counter showing his passport to the CUSTOMS OFFICIAL. TRUMAN BRADLEY Hi, I'm Truman Bradley. It's good to be back here in America after seven years in my undersea research laboratory. Is my job still open teaching science class at the local high school? CUSTOMS OFFICIAL All high schools were converted to pet cemeteries after all pets were killed on order of the President. TRUMAN What? Who is the President? CUSTOMS OFFICIAL I'm not allowed to release that information. TRUMAN Why? CUSTOMS OFFICIAL (at the top of his lungs) He asked a stupid question!!! Get him!!! Several THUGS drop through trapdoors in the ceiling. They all wear black leather jodhpurs, black leather cooks' jackets, and black motorcycle helmets with silvered visors. TRUMAN runs away. The THUGS chase him into a room with a huge crate labelled "IMPOUNDED: ILLEGAL RECREATIONAL VEHICLE". TRUMAN runs into the crate and bursts through the other side on a mini-bike. He crashes through a wall of the airport building and jumps the bike over a chain-link fence. He is free! TRUMAN stops the bike at his old home town, in front of a street sign which says "YOURTOWN, USA". The town is extremely dilapidated. Tumbleweeds blow around. TRUMAN gets off the bike and walks over to a guy sitting on a porch. It is POPEYE, and he is whittling his forearm. TRUMAN Who are you? Why are you here? POPEYE (robot voice) I yam what I yam... Error! Error! Sparks shoot out of the bolts in POPEYE's neck and his head bursts into flames. TRUMAN runs away. He comes to a MAN in a black and white horizontally striped shirt and domino mask. He is pulling a chain, towing a wheeled cage with a WOMAN inside. She wears a snood. MAN #1 A woman's place is at her man's side... in a cage! WOMAN #1 Please help me, they made me wear a snood! TRUMAN runs away again, then meets up with another man, COOLIDGE MERCER (played by Michael O'Hare.) TRUMAN Why, it's my old friend, Coolidge Mercer! How are your kids? COOLIDGE (uncaring) The government took them away this morning and recycled them into pet food. TRUMAN Why did they do that if all the pets were killed? COOLIDGE (uncaring) It is for the good of the country. It's what's right for America! INSERT: EXTREME CLOSE-UP OF HUGE LOBOTOMY SCAR ON COOLIDGE'S FOREHEAD MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING COOLIDGE begins to laugh creepily. INSERT: CLOSE-UP OF TRUMAN'S TERRIFIED FACE MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING TRUMAN screams and runs away. He sees something down the street. TRUMAN Well, at least they haven't taken away public restrooms! In the middle of the street, he goes into an all-glass booth with a toilet inside. He sits on the toilet. Suddenly five THUGS smash through the glass and grab him. TRUMAN Help! Why are you doing this? THUG #1 That's the last time you'll ever ask a stupid question, Mr. Big Brain! Say goodbye to your counterculture-oriented frontal lobes! THUG #1 fires up a chainsaw and cuts off the top quarter of TRUMAN'S skull. THUG #1 Now how does it feel to be a model citizen? TRUMAN Ba-NA-na! THUG #1 You won't be asking any more stupid questions now, will you? TRUMAN Ba-NA-na! THUG #1 Because our State is merciful, you will be given a job and living quarters. All you will have to do is stand on your head in a vat of electrically heated cow manure! TRUMAN Ba-NA-na! DISSOLVE TO: TRUMAN's feet are sticking out of a huge vat of cow manure. TRUMAN (muffled) Ba-NA-na! Two THUGS drag LUCILLE BALL, wearing a snood, into the frame. LUCY Waaah! I don't like wearing a snood! They throw her into the vat. LUCY (muffled) This isn't chocolate! Waaaaaah! TRUMAN (muffled) Ba-NA-na! MUSIC: MUSIC-BOX PLAYING "AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL" AT HALF SPEED CAMERA SLOWLY PANS to reveal a weather-beaten sign which says "WELCOME TO AMERIKKKKKKA". We see it for a few seconds, then "AMERIKKKKKKA" falls off to reveal it originally said "WELCOME TO THE BETTY CROCKER BAKE-OFF". MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING (TWICE) CUT TO BLACK MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING SLOW FADE IN: KIBO (now in a business suit) and TRUMAN BRADLEY are sitting on a porch, drinking lemonade. KIBO Tonight's drama did not actually happen. Truman Bradley is still safe and well. TRUMAN I am enjoying a glass of lemonade here on my porch, thanks to the freedoms we take for granted in America! KIBO But tonight's drama could happen if we ever let down our guard. We must protect the rights we have. Truman Bradley need not have a lobotomy as long as we protect this... (holds up a scroll) ...the Declaration of Independence. Pause. KIBO rips up the Declaration of Independence. Two THUGS grab Truman and pitch him over the porch railing into a vat of manure. TRUMAN (muffled) BANANA! BANANA! BANANA! MUSIC: DRAMATIC STING (THREE TIMES) FADE TO BLACK FADE IN: TITLE CARD: IT COULD HAPPEN ANY DAY NOW FX: OMINOUS HUMMING NOISE FADE TO BLACK FADE IN: KIBO, in the toga, in front of the Colloseum backdrop. KIBO Wow! That was sure scary. It was a warning we must heed! But first, let's watch more of The Special Show! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: SPECIAL GYM ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Special Gym! We see a SMALL BOY sitting at the top of a playground slide. SMALL BOY Lookit me! Lookit me! (slides) Wheeeee! The camera follows him down the slide... into a giant toaster. The toaster glows and buzzes for a few seconds, then pops up... and a ghost comes out. The ghost flies around in a loop. SMALL BOY'S GHOST Woo! Woo! In the foreground, a MAN and WOMAN step into view, their faces almost filling the frame in front of the circling ghost. WOMAN This would have never happened had there been adequate supervision by a gym teacher. MAN Yes... I wonder where the gym teacher is? STOCK FOOTAGE: AN ELEVATOR DESCENDS A LONG, DARK SHAFT CUT TO: Inside the grimy metal elevator, two GUYS IN BLACK ROBES, with hoods covering their faces, are holding a GYM TEACHER captive. GYM TEACHER Where are you taking me? GUY IN BLACK ROBE #1 Shut up! GYM TEACHER What do you want? GUY IN BLACK ROBE #1 Shut up! GYM TEACHER I didn't do anything! I'm just a gym teacher! GUY IN BLACK ROBE #2 He said, SHUT UP! (twists the gym teacher's arm; he screams) The elevator stops and the doors open. The ROBED GUYS drag the GYM TEACHER out. Two GREEN BERETS, with bayoneted rifles and camouflage greasepaint on their faces, guard the elevator entrance. The GYM TEACHER looks out and is startled by what he sees. INSERT: REVERSE ANGLE, GYM TEACHER POV: It is a huge cavern. Hundreds of gym teachers are buried up to their necks, frantically blowing whistles in their mouths. Fire ants crawl all over them. A Sherman tank is running over some of the heads. In the distance, a plane with a Nazi emblem is dropping bombs on them, and Darth Vader's TIE fighter is firing lasers. The GYM TEACHER screams in terror and runs offscreen. GUY IN BLACK ROBE #1 You are making a big mistake! GUY IN BLACK ROBE #2 Do you understand that this is your last chance? Do you understand that this is your VERY last chance? GUY IN BLACK ROBE #1 Fire! The two GREEN BERETS fire their rifles. We see the GYM TEACHER get killed by exploding bullets. The GREEN BERETS run over to the corpse and begin sticking it with their bayonets. GREEN BERET #1 He's dead. The two GUYS IN ROBES look at each other for a second. Then they rip off their hooded robes, revealing gym teacher outfits. GUYS IN BLACK ROBES (together) Now WE are the gym teachers! They high-five each other. FREEZE FRAME. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN: KIBO, in the toga. KIBO But enough of this light entertainment. Are you ready for a real chill? Then cover your eyes and be sure to watch... THE SCARY SEGMENT! TITLE CARD: THE SCARY SEGMENT ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (whispers) The Scarrrrry Segment! STOCK FOOTAGE: THUNDER & LIGHTNING We see RONALD McDONALD for a few seconds. We see a music box playing part of the Minute Waltz slowly. We see a rocking chair rocking by itself, creaking. We see a black bird staring at us. We see RONALD McDONALD standing next to the music box which is next to the rocking chair which is next to the black bird. We see RONALD McDONALD sitting in the rocking chair, holding the music box, with the bird perched on his head. RONALD McDONALD laughs, and then takes a big bite out of a hamburger. CUT TO BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now, ladies and gentlemen, The Special Show is proud to bring you this important announcement from Salman Rushdie. CUT TO: A warehouse full of large crates. SALMAN RUSHDIE timidly peeks out from behind one. SALMAN RUSHDIE (very prissy) I like the metric system! MUSIC: WACKY CLOWN TUNE WITH XYLOPHONE AND SLIDE WHISTLES Several GIRLS IN BIKINIS run around the warehouse in fast motion. PULL BACK VERY FAST to reveal that this is on the screen of the white TV in the padded room. The front and sides of the TV fall off, and it is filled with thousands of big spiders. They crawl all over. Another little door opens in the padded wall, and we see the face of the NURSE. NURSE Don't laugh at the spiders, it'll just make them mad! See ya! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: THE END ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The end! This was a production of The Special Industry. CUT TO: A brief shot of the dead GYM TEACHER with spiders crawling on him. LUCILLE BALL (V.O.) Don't laugh at the spiders! Waaaaaaaaaah! CUT TO BLACK END ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #5 (repost) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 23:10:36 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com This SEEMS to be the last episode of "The Special Show!" to have been broadcast on a previous occasion. I say SEEMS because it SEEMS there is a lost episode of "The Special Show!" which has been sitting here in a can for a year and a half! Well, in under twenty-four hours, you will see "The Lost Special Show!" and "The Specially Special X-Mas Special Of The Very Most Special Special Show Ever!" All-New! All-Singing! All-Dancing! All-Special! All-Nude! Anyway, take some time to enjoy these reruns, although I know you won't be able to because you'll be in agony from the anticipation of the N*E*W X-Mas special I'll be writing on Christmas Day itself! So sit tight, relax, and enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------------- RERUN THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= EPISODE #5: LUNAR FRIDGE! (first broadcast 7/24/97) Copyright (C) 1997 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. FADE IN: In an all-white padded room, a NURSE (who looks like a female George Bush) is repeatedly slapping the face of PATIENT who is wearing a straightjacket. There is a white TV set on a white TV cart in the corner of the room. Zoom in on the TV. We go into its screen and see another version of the same scene, in which the actress playing the NURSE is now in a straightjacket, and the actor formerly playing the PATIENT is in a nurse's uniform slapping her. There is a TV behind them. Zoom in on the TV. In a third version of the padded room, the NURSE and PATIENT are both in straightjackets, and NAPOLEON is slapping them both. There is a TV in the corner. From its screen bursts the revolving chrome logo of THE SPECIAL SHOW, which whacks all three of them on the head, knocking them unconscious. The logo bounces around the room hyperactively. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) THE!!! SPECIAL!!! SHOW!!! KIBO is standing on the surface of the moon. Instead of a space suit, he is wearing a white sailor suit with one black arm. KIBO Hello everybody, and welcome to the fifth episode of The Special Show! We have some wonderful comedy, drama, and documentary segments for you tonight! Without further ado, let's go to the center of all things cultural, downtown Hollywood, for a science lecture from Dr. Matt McIrvin! TITLE CARD: THE DANGEROUS STREETS OF THE BIG CITY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The dangerous streets of the big city! MATT McIRVIN, noted nuclear physicist, is standing on the corner of a Hollywood street, lecturing in a bowling shirt. MATT McIRVIN Am I boring you yet? Am I boring you yet? Am I boring you yet? (continues ad infinitum) In the background, we see a tanker truck approaching. From the truck's POV, we see MATT a long ways away. From in front of MATT, the truck is drawing closer. A side view of the truck shows a huge logo on the side: "CHEEZ WHIZ". The truck's POV again, MATT is pretty close. The CHEEZ WHIZ DRIVER notices MATT and looks startled. He thumps the horn on a Fisher-Price toy steering wheel in his cab, and it goes "beep". He frantically turns the plastic toy wheel. MATT is still droning on and on. Behind him, the truck swerves, rolls over, and just barely misses MATT, sliding past him upside-down. It clips a fire hydrant as it passes out of frame. The broken hydrant sprays a geyser of Cheez Whiz into the air. MATT McIRVIN (noticing the cheez fountain) Hooray! (he runs over to it and begins to run around under the fountain, waving his arms) Cheez! Cheez! Cheez! We see the front of a store with a sign, "CAMERA STORE". Every time MATT shouts "Cheez!" a hundred flash bulbs go off simultaneously! SHOPKEEPER (running out of store) I'm blind! I'm blind! Behind the shopkeeper, two more eighteen-wheeler tankers roar past. The first one has a sign identical in style to "CHEEZ WHIZ", only it says "EAR WAX". The second says "BOWLING" in the same style. POV of the BOWLING DRIVER. He is trying to catch up to the ear wax truck. The EAR WAX DRIVER looks in his rear view mirror, scared, and turns his Fisher-Price steering wheel. The bowling truck rams the side of the ear wax truck! There is an explosion and a huge white flash! CUT TO: Interior of a bowling alley. A ball is rolling down the lane when the white flash happens. The lane becomes covered with a thick layer of ear wax, and the ball stops dead in the middle. FIRST BOWLER Ewww! Ear wax! SECOND BOWLER Why does this always happen to us? MATT McIRVIN enters at a run. MATT McIRVIN Stop this insanity! Bowling is not to be made light of! Bowling is a SERIOUS SPORT, and I am a SERIOUS BOWLER! The various other BOWLERS glower at him. MATT McIRVIN And now, I shall bowl. He reaches to pick up a ball, but it bites his hand off. MATT runs around screaming, with Cheez Whiz dripping from his stump. MATT McIRVIN Aaaaaaaaaghhhh! My professional bowling career is RUINED! The other BOWLERS applaud quietly, politely, so as not to break anyone's concentration. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: ESCALATOR SAFETY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now, a heartfelt plea for escalator safety. A MAN is riding up an escalator. He reaches the top and continues rising into the air. ESCALATOR MAN Oh no! I forgot to get off! He screams as he is crushed to a pulp against the ceiling. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: A VISIT TO LONDON ANNOUNCER (V.O.) A visit to London! A BEEFEATER guard is standing in front of Buckingham palace. Some TOURISTS walk by and he sticks his tongue out behind their backs. A third TOURIST walks up to him. TOURIST Could I get a picture of you? The BEEFEATER takes off his shako, revealing that his brain is exposed. He reaches in between the halves of his brain and pulls out a Polaroid and hands it to the tourist. INSERT: Hand holding Polaroid of grinning Beefeater with exposed brain TOURIST Wow, thanks! I love England! MUSIC: GOD SAVE THE QUEEN DISSOLVE TO: TITLE CARD: FUN AT THE POOL ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Fun at the pool! Sponsored by Doritos! The SHOPKEEPER from earlier is standing by a wading pool. He jumps in. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) That's not water! The SHOPKEEPER shrieks and jumps out. He jumps into the next pool, which is filled with plastic balls, and begins trying to swim. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) That's not water! Get out of my balls! The SHOPKEEPER shrieks again and jumps out. He dives into the third wading pool, which is filled with Doritos (there is a Doritos billboard behind it.) He stands up, with pointy Doritos embedded in all parts of his body, with his hands over his face. SHOPKEEPER My eyes! My eyes! CUT TO: OVERHEAD CLOSE-UP OF A DORITO ON BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Doritos! They're so good, you won't mind getting them in your eyes! Put Doritos in your eyes today! A mouse walks into frame, onto the Dorito. It begins to revolve. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Doritos! Now with spinning mouse! MUSIC: MEXICAN HAT DANCE, DOUBLE SPEED CUT TO: KIBO, on the Moon. KIBO I would like to thank Doritos for always staying sharp. And now, The Special Show would like to illustrate a typical problem. TITLE CARD: A TYPICAL PROBLEM A lower-class HUSBAND and WIFE are in their living room. He is reading a tattered newspaper in his underwear. HUSBAND Says here that now doctors can perform surgery using staples. WIFE Gosh, isn't science wonderful. Zoom in on the HUSBAND's face as he begins to imagine. MUSIC: HARP GLISSANDOS FLEXITRON TO: A limbo set. MUSIC: WALTZ The HUSBAND, still in his underwear, has his head in a giant stapler. A DOCTOR is jumping up and down on it. The HUSBAND us screaming in agony. SPIDER-MAN enters and begins waltzing around the stapler while shooting brightly-colored confetti into the air from his wrists. A second copy of the HUSBAND, on a video overlay, runs into the frame. HUSBAND (on overlay) Stop! Stop! This is a private fantasy! The DOCTOR and SPIDER-MAN, also duplicated on the overlay, enter and drag him to a second giant stapler. The DOCTOR begins jumping up and down on it while SPIDER-MAN twirls around. We watch the two giant staplers torturing the two husbands. MATT McIRVIN enters. MATT McIRVIN You know, this isn't really how it's done. MUSIC: HARP GLISSANDOS FLEXITRON TO: The HUSBAND is still in his easy chair. HUSBAND Honey, I'm going in for surgery tomorrow! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: EINSTEIN'S GREATEST DILEMMA ANNOUNCER (V.O.) EINSTEIN'S GREATEST DILEMMA! EINSTEIN is standing next to a wall-mounted fire extinguisher. It bursts into flame. He looks at it, scratches his head, and begins to cry like a baby. CUT TO: TITLE CARD: HOMAGE ANNOUNCER (V.O.) HOMAGE! RUTH BUZZI, with prosthetic makeup of a Klingon forehead, is sitting on a park bench. JIM NABORS, wearing a cardboard box covered with glitter, enters. JIM NABORS Way-ull, gaw-lee! I am a robot! RUTH BUZZI stands up and begins poking at his cardboard box. JIM NABORS Don't you push mah buttons! I want a divorce! RUTH BUZZI But what about our baby? CUT TO: A BABY with a Klingon forehead, wearing a glittery cardboard box, in a crib. BABY Way-ull, gaw-lee! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: BACK TO THE DANGEROUS STREETS OF THE BIG CITY ANNOUNCER (V.O.) And now, back to the dangerous streets of the big city! Three BAD KIDS, about age eight, wearing leather jackets, are hanging out on a streetcorner. ROSE MARIE, as a nun whose head is three times larger than normal, drives up in a half-size fire engine. ROSE MARIE Read 'em and weep, boys! Read 'em and weep, boys! BAD KID #1 Read what? ROSE MARIE (holding two things up) A dictionary and a barometer! All three BAD KIDS start crying. ROSE MARIE DRIVES away. MATT McIRVIN enters. MATT McIRVIN Look, everyone, it's big TV star Kelsey Grammer! Yayyyyy! MATT's skinny foam rubber arms, controlled by black sticks from below, begin flailing around madly. KELSEY GRAMMER drives up in the giant wheeled diaper from a previous episode. KELSEY GRAMMER Boys, maybe you could help me, as I appear to be lost. BAD KID #2 Hey look! Kelsey Grammer drives a diaper! MATT McIRVIN You kids should not make fun of Kelsey Grammer's diaper! The DIAPER develops eyes and a mouth. GIANT WHEELED DIAPER I smell gas! The BAD KIDS scream and run away in fast-motion, hurling themselves head-first into garbage cans. MATT prepares to light his pipe. MATT McIRVIN Heh heh. Silly kids. (strikes match) There are three colossal explosions. MATT is covered with soot. Pan to reveal KELSEY GRAMMER lying on the street, pinned under the upside-down giant diaper. KELSEY GRAMMER I flipped my diaper! The DIAPER bursts into flame. CUT TO: KIBO, on the Moon. In the distance, a NASA astronaut in a space suit is (slowly) chasing a naked lady across the lunar surface. KIBO I sincerely hope you've sincerely enjoyed this typical episode of The Special Show! And now, stay tuned for a sneak preview of The Special Show: The Motion Picture, starring Oscar winner Martin Landau! CUT TO: Cheez spraying out of the broken fire hydrant. MARTIN LANDAU runs into frame. MARTIN LANDAU (running in circles in the cheez) Cheez! Cheez! Cheez! CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU in the bowling alley, with blood spurting out of his severed hands. MARTIN LANDAU Aaaaaaaaaghhhh! My professional bowling career is RUINED! CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU, dressed as a Beefeater. He takes off his shako revealing his brain. CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU, screaming in agony with his head in a giant stapler as SPIDER-MAN dances around him throwing confetti. CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU, dressed as a baby with a Klingon forehead and glittery cardboard box, in a crib. MARTIN LANDAU Way-ull, gaw-lee! CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU driving a giant wheeled diaper. MARTIN LANDAU I appear to be lost. CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU's face is superimposed on the giant diaper. MARTIN LANDAU I smell gas! CUT TO: MARTIN LANDAU, on the Moon, in a sailor outfit with one black arm. MARTIN LANDAU That's all for this week, see you all at the movies! MARTIN's sailor suit changes to chinos and a green wool sweater. SOUND FX: ELECTRONIC "BOING" Sparkles surround him as he floats away into space. CUT TO: The NURSE, PATIENT, and NAPOLEON are still passed out in the padded room. The spinning chrome logo of THE SPECIAL SHOW smashes through the wall and begins careening down the street, bonking the heads of innocent bystanders. It flies off into the sunset. FADE OUT. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Special Show was underwritten by a generous grant from The Trilateral Commission and Martin Landau. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #6 <-- Never-before-seen LOST EPISODE! X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 07:11:13 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com I wrote all of this except the introductory scene in 1997 and 1998, and then forgot to post it. So, I added the missing scene today and here it is. WARNING: AS ALWAYS, VIEWERSHIP OF "THE SPECIAL SHOW!" IS RESTRICTED TO MENTAL PATIENTS. YOU MUST BE A LICENSED MENTAL PATIENT TO ENJOY THIS SHOW. --------------------------------------------------------------- BEGIN HERE THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= EPISODE #6: THE EPISODE THAT DOESN'T MENTION ROLLERSKATING CHIMPS! (filmed in September 1997 and April 1998, then lost. first broadcast December 25, 1999.) Copyright (C) 1997-1999 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. -- FADE IN. We are in a padded cell in a psychiatric institution. Everything is white. A NURSE, who looks like a female Jim Nabors, is wearing a white uniform. There is a white Philco Predicta TV set behind her, turned off. NURSE Sedative. An hand from offscreen passes her a needle. She squirts a few drops into the air and then jabs the needle into the camera lens. She injects all the fluid. NURSE More sedative. The hand passes her a second needle. She also squirts some fluid into the air and then injects it into the camera lense. NURSE More sedative! The hand gives her a third one, and she injects it too. By now the lens is filled to the top with a slighty hazy concentrated sedative. NURSE Good, you're now ready for your therapy. It's time to watch... "The Special Show!" The NURSE switches on the TV. It displays a revolving chrome logo which says "The Special Show!" upside-down. ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The! ... Special! ... Show! And now, heeeeeere's Kibo! CUT TO: KIBO is our host for the evening. He is standing in front of a window which is showing all of the tallest buildings in the world, including the World Trade Center, the Eiffel Tower, Seattle's Space Needle, and assorted others. Frank Lloyd Wright's "Falling Water" house is in front of the skyscrapers. The view makes it clear that we are up high. Other than the window, the wall is covered with tacky wallpaper which repeats the words "SPECIAL WALLPAPER" in different typefaces. KIBO Ladies and gentlemen, recently The Special Show brought you a silly sketch about a fast-food restaurant supposedly called "Diaper Burger", and a wacky skit in which Kelsey Grammer pretended to drive a giant diaper. Several of you have written in to ask why we think diapers are funny. Well, scientists have long labored to understand the funniness of diapers. Diapers are a cornerstone of all that is good and funny. Let me illustrate this with my new invention (holding up a small box) which I call Diap-O. Kibo pulls a ring on a string on the back of the box. It begins to vibrate. He hurriedly sets it down on the stool and backs away. KIBO In a few seconds, the Diap-O will emit its special waves of Diap-O radiation which will prevent diapers from being funny. Glowing rings of light spread out from the Diap-O box. KIBO And now, let us visit a world in which diapers are not funny. TITLE CARD: IN THE BOARDROOM ANNOUNCER (V.O.) In The Boardroom! CUT TO: Various MEN in three-piece suits are sitting around a mahogany table in a corporate boardroom. MAN #1 Gentlemen, this is a disaster. Our company, which sells comminuted beef patties, is going bankrupt. It seems our products have a crummy name. We must immediately pick a new name for them, one which is more appropriate than "ham" burgers. Waves of Diap-O energy pass through the room for a moment. MAN #2 I know! We'll call them Diaper Burgers! MAN #3 There is nothing odd about that name at all! I like Diaper Burgers! MAN #4 Hooray for the word "diaper"! JIMMY CARTER bursts into the room, with a megaphone. JIMMY CARTER (shouting into the megaphone) May I have your attention, please! As the President of the United States, I hereby declare that instead of business suits, business men will now wear diapers! Their clothes explode, leaving them clad in diapers. MAN #1 I'm wearing diapers, which is a completely normal event! MAN #2 I wish my clothes would explode every day so that I could wear more diapers! JIMMY CARTER Even if I weren't President, I'd still wear diapers! MAN #3 Diapers rock! MAN #4 Quick, turn on the TV, it's time for "Star Trek: Voyager"! JIMMY CARTER switches on a console TV. The screen fills with black and white zigzags. ZOOM IN on zigzags. DISSOLVE TO: Aboard the starship Voyager, KATE MULGREW is making love to LEONARDO DaVINCI. Her communicator beeps. KATE MULGREW (sighs) What is it now? TIM RUSS (V.O.) Captain Janeway, the ship has encountered an unusual phenomenon. KATE MULGREW What kind of phenomenon? TIM RUSS (V.O.) (oddly distorted) It appears to be a giant diaper... diaper... diaper... DIAPER... DIAPER... DIIIAAAPERRRRRRR..... DDDDDIIIIIIIAAAAAAPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRR..... KATE MULGREW's arm grows in length and begins to ripple. KATE MULGREW (talking backwards) My arm is getting very long, help me, Leonardo! TIM RUSS (V.O.) DDDDDIIIIIAAAPPPEEERRRR... DDDDDIIIIAAAAPPPPEEEERRRR.... CAMERA FOLLOWS her hand as her arm elongates. Her hand leaves the Voyager and passes onto the next set, which shows a grassy meadow. It goes behind a giant glass bottle in which a strip of bacon is growing. A bee, making light-saber noises, is hovering around the bottle. GOD's hand reaches down from the clouds, puts a cap on the bottle, and hands it to KATE MULGREW. Her arm immediately retracts back to the Voyager. KATE MULGREW (looking at the bottle with the strip of bacon) Mmm! Diaper flavor! TIM RUSS (V.O.) FLAVOR... FLAVOR... FLAVOR... FLAAAAVORRRR... FLAAAAAAVORRRRRRRR... CUT TO: Outer space. A giant diaper flies past. The bee is following it. TITLE CARD: MEN AT WORK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Men At Work! A GUY is pointing to a fifty-foot tall diaper from which black smoke is escaping. A fire truck pulls up next to it and several FIREMEN get out. GUY Kelsey Grammer is trapped inside a burning diaper! FIRE CHIEF Bring me the diaper ax! Another FIREMAN hands him a large ax, and he chops a big hole in the diaper. One of them pulls KELSEY GRAMMER out. He is covered with soot and is wearing only a diaper. KELSEY GRAMMER That diaper is a deathtrap! FIRE CHIEF Yes, diapers are a serious matter. CUT TO: KIBO, in front of his window. KIBO And now... the Marx Brothers! SWISH-PAN TO: Three tombstones, "Chico", "Groucho", and "Harpo". With a slide-whistle noise, a strip of bacon rises out of Groucho's grave. The bee, still making light-saber noises, orbits it. TALKING BACON (Groucho voice) How the elephant got into my diaper, I'll never know! TITLE CARD (very pretty): AN EVENING WITH BARBARA BAIN MUSIC: Music box ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (mellow) The Special Show now proudly presents an evening with the multitalented Miss Barbara Bain. CUT TO: BARBARA BAIN is sitting on a stool on an empty stage, holding a microphone. She is wearing a "Space: 1999" uniform. Behind her, a spotlight is shining on a glass box in which MARTIN LANDAU is trapped. He is also wearing a "Space: 1999" uniform and is screaming constantly, but the box is soundproof. BARBARA BAIN (acting into microphone) How the, elephant got into my... diaper I'll, never... know? With a slide-whistle noise, the bacon strip rises out of her big hair. The bee begins to fly around her head. MARTIN LANDAU smashes his way out of the glass box, and runs over to her. MARTIN LANDAU (acting while bleeding all over) Don't you understand!!! The Diap-O radiation!!! Is wearing off!!! Soon diapers will!!! Be funny again!!! Waves of Diap-O radiation pass through, and fade away. TIM RUSS (V.O.) DIIIAPERRRRSSSSS... DIAPERS.... diapers.... (fades out) BARBARA BAIN (acting into microphone) What does this mean? MARTIN LANDAU (acting while bleeding all over) Diapers are funny again!!! Yaaaaaagggghhhhh!!!!! CUT TO: A crane is swinging a big diaper like a wrecking ball. It smashes into a skyscraper. CUT TO: BARBARA and MARTIN duck as the big diaper smashes its way onto the stage and swings right past them. They run offstage. CUT TO: KIBO, in front of his window. BARBARA and MARTIN enter. BARBARA BAIN (acting) A giant diaper is, destroying, The Special Show! Everything shakes as the diaper smashes into some other part of the building. The scenery behind the window turns upside down. KIBO Oh no! The building has turned upside down! MARTIN LANDAU (acting) Follow me!!! I'll get us!!! Out of here!!! They run out the stage door into a stairwell. The "UP" and "DOWN" signs on the stairs have switched places, but are still right side up. KIBO We're trapped in The Special Show forever! BARBARA BAIN (acting) Maybe not. Maybe if we just use reverse logic... MARTIN LANDAU Yes!!! Reverse logic!!! They all run up the stairs. They come to a corridor with a plastic wading pool in the middle, with six inches of water in it. Scooby-Doo is printed on the pool. KIBO Watch out! BARBARA BAIN (acting as she falls into the pool) Aaaaaaiiiiiieeeee!!! MARTIN LANDAU We can't go back for her!!! We've got to continue!!! She would have wanted it that way!!! They run down the hall, and come to a brick wall. The diaper smashes through, making a big diaper-shaped hole. KIBO Can we go out that way? MARTIN LANDAU (acting) We can't fit through that hole!!! It's too wide!!! SHELLEY WINTERS enters. SHELLEY WINTERS I can fit through that hole! She walks out of the building through the hole. KIBO & MARTIN LANDAU (together) Hooray! Shelley Winters is saved! With a slide-whistle noise, the strip of bacon rises out of Martin Landau's hair. TALKING BACON But what about us? The bee flies into the corridor through the hole, buzzes around, and explodes, killing MARTIN. KIBO Oh no, the bee bomb blew up Martin Landau! My only chance to save myself is to leave the building by the front door before the deadly diaper activates the building's self-destruct system! BUILDING COMPUTER (V.O.) This building will self-destruct in one minute unless someone sings "Bad Moon Rising"! KIBO runs down another corridor. At the other end, it is blocked by prison bars made entirely out of bananas. Behind the bananas, several of the evil bees are waiting. KIBO It's the bee bomb banana bars! BUILDING COMPUTER (V.O.) This building will self-destruct in thirty seconds unless someone sings "Bad Moon Rising"! KIBO You know, that just might work... (singing very badly) I see a bad moon rising, trouble's on the way... CUT TO: The cityscape, with the crane swinging the diaper at the skyscraper. The skyscraper falls over with a slide-whistle noise, and the diaper misses it! CUT TO: KELSEY GRAMMER operating the crane, wearing a diaper. KELSEY GRAMMER Curse you, Kibo! Because of you, my diaper is funny! The strip of bacon rises out of his diaper, with the slide-whistle noise. TALKING BACON It's a living! WACKY MUSIC STING. CUT TO BLACK TITLE CARD: THE END ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Special Show is a production of the National Talking Bacon Council. BARBARA BAIN (V.O.) (acting) This bacon tastes weird. END ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: THE SPECIAL SHOW! #7 <-- All-New Christmas Special! X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 07:40:49 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com I wrote this today please excuse any typos because I'm really tired because I've been writing all day and I forgot to eat anything except Original Butter Artificially Flavored popcorn and Battlestar Galactica is on my TV and something is making me dizzy need chili bye. --------------------------------------------------------------- BEGIN HERE THE SPECIAL SHOW! ================= EPISODE #7: 1999 CHRISTMAS SPECIAL (first broadcast December 25, 1999) Copyright (C) 1999 James "Kibo" Parry Todos los derechos reservados. FADE IN: (We are in the usual padded cell with white walls. A NURSE in a white uniform is there, holding a small white TV set. She looks like a female version of Ernest Borgnine. In the corner is a Christmas tree completely covered in white spray-on snow.) NURSE You've been a very good little mental patient this year. Your reward is to watch the very special Christmas episode of "The Special Show!" (She holds the little TV up to the camera lens so that its picture fills the screen completely. It shows the revolving chrome logo of "The Special Show!") ANNOUNCER (Walter Winchell, voice-over) The! ... Special! ... Show! And now, ladies and gentlemen... your host, Kibo! CUT TO: (KIBO and MARTHA STEWART are stringing popcorn garlands in her living room.) KIBO Oh... hi there! I didn't hear you come in! But, since you got out of your padded cell somehow, you might as well spend a very special Christmas with this special Christmas episode of "The Special Show!" I'm afraid I can't be in this episode, because I'm busy having a happy holiday, but I assure you that this episode is a dilly of a doozy! It kicks off with the Rockettes! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: "The Radio City Music Hall Rockettes" ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Ladies and gentlemen... The Rockettes! (Forty forty-year-old gals in fishnet tights are huddled together, trying to hold as motionless as possible. CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL they are standing on a little platform precariously balanced above a pit of razor-sharp spikes. Animated six-pointed snowflake-shaped sparkly glints are blinking on the tips of the spikes to indicate they are pointy yet Christmassy. The ROCKETTES gamely hold still for a few moments, then the one on the right begins to dance the Can-Can. The others gasp in horror as the platform tilts. They all fall off.) CUT TO: TITLE CARD: "Yet Another Osmond Family Christmas" ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Ladies and gentlemen... Donnie and Marie! (DONNIE and MARIE OSMOND are on stage, wearing festive yet non-denominational Christmas sweaters, holding microphones with tinsel garlands wrapped around the cords. They smile and animated six-pointed sparkly glints blink around their teeth. They take deep breaths and are about to sing when the floor collapses, dropping them into a meat grinder. CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL a SCIENTIST in a white lab coat turning the crank. Ground meat comes out. He puts the dish of ground meat under a microscope and looks into the eyepiece.) SCIENTIST Five percent country... five percent rock and roll... and ninety percent filler! (The KING OF SWEDEN enters. The SCIENTIST doesn't look up.) KING OF SWEDEN You have just won the Nobel Prize for your work on comminuted celebrities! (The SCIENTIST looks up. A circle of shoe polish surrounds his eye. The KING OF SWEDEN laughs.) KING OF SWEDEN Ha, ha! We tricked you! We made up the idea of Nobel Prizes just to fool scientists into looking into microscopes so that we could smear shoe polish on the eyepieces! You're a bozo! SCIENTIST I've wasted my life! I should have been a pop singer! (The SCIENTIST exits through a door that leads to the same stage we just saw. The floor is intact again. Someone offscreen tosses him a microphone.) ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Ladies and gentlemen... a scientist! SCIENTIST (singing) What's new, pussycat... whoa-oh-oh... (The floor collapses, but he remains suspended in mid-air. He notices the hole beneath him.) SCIENTIST Ha! I am immune to gravity because I no longer believe in science! (The KING OF SWEDEN walks onto the stage.) KING OF SWEDEN Curse you for not believing in science... (screams as he falls into the hole) SCIENTIST From now on, I only believe in Santa Claus! CUT TO: TITLE CARD: "The Adventures Of Santa Claus" ANNOUNCER (V.O.) The Adventures Of Santa Claus! (A small BOY, wearing pajamas, is sitting on a living-room couch, staring at the empty fireplace. A Christmas tree, an aquarium, and a TV set are in the background.) NEWSCASTER (on TV) The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, the DIA, the USIA, FEMA, and several other top-secret government agencies have announced that all citizens should be vigilant at all times because any package could be a bomb if you don't know what it is! (SANTA drops into the fireplace, unhitching a rope and carabiner from his harness.) WIDE SHOT OF SANTA YELLING "HO! HO! HO!" CLOSEUP OF SANTA YELLING "HO! HO! HO!" EXTREME CLOSEUP OF SANTA YELLING "HO! HO! HO!" EXTREMELY EXTREME CLOSEUP OF SANTA'S LEFT EYE AS HE YELLS "HO! HO! HO!" (SANTA reaches into his bag and tosses a small wrapped gift to the boy.) NEWSCASTER (on TV) If you don't know what it is, it COULD be a bomb! Especially if it has no return address! (The BOY screams and tosses the box into the aquarium. It sinks rapidly, because it has air holes punched into the sides and lid. Meowing noises come from it before it sinks.) BOY Santa, I reject you and your gift because it COULD have been a bomb! SANTA Okay, kid, try this! WIDE SHOT OF SANTA YELLING "HO!" CLOSEUP OF SANTA YELLING "HO!" EXTREME CLOSEUP OF SANTA YELLING "HO!" EXTREMELY EXTREME CLOSEUP OF SANTA'S LEFT EYE AS HE YELLS "HO!" MICROSCOPIC CLOSEUP OF SANTA'S EYE'S PUPIL AS HE YELLS "HO!" (SANTA reaches into his bag and tosses a round black bomb, with a burning fuse, to the BOY.) NEWSCASTER (on TV) If you don't know what it is, it COULD be a bomb! BOY Hey! I know what this is! That means it's safe! (The bomb explodes. SANTA is blasted back into the fireplace and up the chimney. He hops into his sleigh and goes to the next house. They are a young couple who just happen have the same living room, slightly rearranged.) SANTA Merry Christmas! MAN But we aren't Christian! WOMAN (pointing at the top of the tree) See? (SANTA looks, and sees an upside-down five-pointed star on the top of the tree. Also, the tree has a banner which says "HAIL SATAN!") MAN AND WOMAN (together, perkily) We're Satanists! SANTA That's okay! Santa is prepared! (SANTA opens his sack wide and SATAN steps out, wearing a similar red furry costume. Except in his case it's not really a costume, just his fur. SATAN reaches into his own sack and tosses the MAN and WOMAN a pair of still-beating hearts.) MAN AND WOMAN (together) Yay! This is the best Evil Satanic Anti-Christmas ever! (SANTA holds his bag open and SATAN hops back in. SANTA smiles and winks and beams out, "Star Trek"-style. He rematerializes in his sleigh and heads for another home. It has a third copy of the same living room with the furniture slightly rearranged. SUPERMAN is hanging ornaments on his tree.) SANTA Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Superman! SUPERMAN I'm happy I chose to stop fighting crime tonight so that I could be here to receive your valuable presents! SANTA Why... Superman... that's wrong! You're a naughty Superman! Here is your Christmas present... (SANTA reaches into his sack and hands SUPERMAN a big lump of coal. SUPERMAN squeezes it. It glows and turns into the world's largest diamond. Six-pointed sparkles blink around it.) SUPERMAN Why, thank you, Santa! SANTA Superman... I hate you! (SANTA takes a swing at SUPERMAN. SUPERMAN slugs SANTA in the gut. They fight. SANTA is winning. At the end of the fight, SUPERMAN is lying on the floor and SANTA is jumping up and down on him.) SANTA Hmm... I wonder what other superheroes are up to? CUT TO: TITLE CARD: "Einstein meets Batman" ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Einstein meets Batman! (ALBERT EINSTEIN is walking down a city street.) EINSTEIN (singing to himself) La, la, la... doobie doobie doo... (A local PERSON runs up to him, kicks him in the crotch, and runs away.) EINSTEIN Ow! That hurt! Someone just kicked me in the crotch! (He resumes walking and singing, but a second PERSON kicks him in the crotch and runs away.) EINSTEIN Hey! People are kicking me in the crotch! (Two more PEOPLE run into the frame. The one on the left kicks him in the crotch. The one on the right kicks him in the crotch.) EINSTEIN People keep kicking me in the crotch! They must have some reason! I need to find out what it is! Help me, Batman! (BATMAN drops into frame as he swings in on his Bat-rope. He strikes a heroic pose next to Einstein, facing directly into the camera.) BATMAN Albert Einstein, do you require my assistance? EINSTEIN Batman, people keep kicking me in the crotch! What do you suggest I do? BATMAN I suggest you figure out how to stop them from kicking you in the crotch! (BATMAN exits.) EINSTEIN Gosh! That advice might work, if only I can figure out how to stop people from kicking me in the crotch! (CAMERA ZOOMS IN to a close-up of Einstein's face as he thinks for a few seconds. A light bulb appears over his head, surrounded by blinking six-point sparkles.) EINSTEIN Eureka! CUT TO: (EINSTEIN is strolling down the street, singing happily to himself. He is wearing jointed steel pants made of half-inch-thick plates of armor.) EINSTEIN La, la, la, la dee da... (A PERSON runs up to him and kicks him in the crotch. It goes "Bong!" Einstein doesn't even feel it.) EINSTEIN Ha, ha, ha! My crotch is impervious to your foot! (The PERSON kicks him several more times, but EINSTEIN just laughs. A couple more PEOPLE enter and kick him for a while. They give up and trudge away, disappointed.) EINSTEIN Ha, ha, ha! I am so happy I invented armored pants that cannot be kicked in the crotch! (BILL GATES enters.) BILL GATES Albert Einstein, I am Bill Gates and I have patented the idea of not getting kicked in the crotch! Therefore, your pants have been nullified! (EINSTEIN'S pants disappear, revealing boxer shorts with a snowflake-print pattern. BILL GATES kicks him in the crotch) BILL GATES HA!!! HA!!! HA!!! EINSTEIN Waah! I don't like being forced to feel pain when people successfully kick me in the crotch! BILL GATES Kick you later, Einstein! HA!!! HA!!! (BILL GATES exists as BATMAN enters again.) EINSTEIN Batman, they're still kicking me in the crotch! BATMAN Who is kicking you in the crotch? EINSTEIN Everyone! Everyone is kicking me in the crotch! (CAMERA ZOOMS IN on BATMAN's face as he thinks about that. A sparkly light bulb appears above his head. He kicks EINSTEIN in the crotch.) BATMAN I'm sorry, old chum, but you said EVERYONE kicks you in the crotch. (ROBIN enters.) ROBIN Batman, may I please help kick Einstein in the crotch? BATMAN Yes, Robin, provided you've done your civics homework. ROBIN Oh boy! Crotch-kicking! (They kick him in the crotch some more. While EINSTEIN is doubled over in pain, BATMAN shoves him to the left. EINSTEIN falls off the edge of the set. He falls a great distance, into what appears to be an enormous taco. CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal it is a normal-size taco in the hands of THE INCREDIBLE HULK.) HULK Mmm... Hulk like tacos! (The HULK slowly moves it towards his open mouth. But he accidentally crushes the taco to bits in his burly first before it gets there.) HULK Rrr... Hulk smash taco because Hulk stupid! (SPIDER-MAN dances into view wearing his shiny red plaid spandex leotard. He twirls around as he dances. HULK grabs him and kisses him. Web fluid shoots out of SPIDER-MAN's wrist.) HULK Mmm... better than taco! (High above, BATMAN and ROBIN have been watching.) ROBIN Batman, is the Hulk gay? BATMAN No, Robin. He's just very stupid. ROBIN Holy "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," Batman! BATMAN Yes... Robin... Don't ask... Don't tell... indeed. I wonder... what our old friend... Superman... is up to... right now. CUT TO: (A small dormitory bedroom. A SHORT BALD MAN is sitting cross-legged on his bed surrounded by comic books. There is a mosquito net over his bed. In the background there is a small, neglected Christmas tree turning brown. The SHORT BALD MAN is engrossed in a "Lois Lane, Girl Reporter" comic book.) SHORT BALD MAN Oh, Lois Lane, you are so hot! (SUPERMAN jumps into the room through the window.) SUPERMAN Stop fantasizing about my girlfriend, you creep! SHORT BALD MAN What're you going to do about it? You're not real, you're just a comic-book character! (SUPERMAN reaches in through the mosquito netting and puts his hands on both sides of the SHORT BALD MAN's head. He squeezes and the head turns into a small diamond, still attached to the man's shoulders. He runs around the room in circles waving his arms, trying to scream, but no sound comes out of his mouthless faceted head.) SUPERMAN That'll teach you to use your imagination! (SUPERMAN pushes the Christmas tree over and exits by walking through a wall, destroying Da Vinci's "The Last Supper" which is hanging there.) CUT TO: (In the local police station, a DESK SARGEANT is leaning forwards to talk to someone who is even shorter than he used to be.) DESK SARGEANT You say Superman crushed your head until it turned into a diamond? SHORT BALD DIAMOND-HEADED MAN Mmmpf! Mmmmmmpf! DESK SARGEANT That's ridiculous. (In the background, through the open door, we see Einstein run past, screaming. Batman and Robin are running after him.) DESK SARGEANT Tell you what, come back when you stop having this delusion that your head is a diamond and then you can tell us about how Superman turned your head into a diamond. (The floor collapses beneath them and everyone falls into the top of a meat grinder, including BATMAN, ROBIN, EINSTEIN, SUPERMAN, the HULK, the DESK SARGEANT, the SHORT BALD DIAMOND-HEADED MAN, SPIDER-MAN, BILL GATES, SANTA, SATAN, and assorted PEOPLE. The floor collapses beneath the grinder and it falls into the pit of spikes, landing on the ROCKETTES. The bottom of the pit collapses, dropping everything out into the blackness of outer space. All we see is a starfield. A six-sided, snowflake-shaped space station slowly rises into view from below. It is a Cylon base ship. A Cylon fighter ship is launched from it with three robotic CYLONS on board. The chrome CYLONS are entirely covered in six-pointed glints.) CYLON PILOT (barely intelligible robot voice) We, must, de, stroy, the, Bat, le, star, Ga, lac, ti, ca. USELESS SECOND CYLON Un, der, stood. USELESS THIRD CYLON Al, so, un, der, stood. (Stock footage of the Cylon fighter craft diving toward stock footage of the Battlestar Galactica. On board, STARBUCK [Dirk Benedict], APOLLO [Richard Hatch], and ENSIGN GREENBEAN [Ed Begley, Jr.] are playing space basketball on a six-foot-wide court while wearing nothing but bikini briefs and football shoulder pads.) STARBUCK How many centons have we been playing basketbalon? APOLLO Fifton centons and elevon nanons. ENSIGN GREENBEAN I like vegetablons, especially onionons. (The most evil person in the Universe, played by PATRICK MACNEE, is watching from the stands. He is wearing a white dress and a space bowler derby, carrying a space umbrella. His evil smile indicates that he is having trouble not giggling.) PATRICK MACNEE I shall destroy you all, Starbuck, Apollo, Greenbean! I am subordinate to no one! I am the ultimate force of the cosmos! (The camera cuts away just in time before he starts laughing from sheer embarassment.) (Same stock footage of the Cylon fighter approaching the same stock footage of the Galactica.) CYLON PILOT There, is, the Ga, lac, ti, ca. USELESS SECOND CYLON It, is, the, Ga, lac, ti, ca. USELESS THIRD CYLON Yes, the, Ga, lac, ti, ca. CYLON PILOT De, stroy, the, Ga, lac, ti, ca. (Stock footage of most of the Galactica being blown up by Cylons. Some of the stock footage shows more than one Cylon fighter, but nobody notices. Also in some shots the Galactica says "Pegasus" or "Valley Forge" on the side in big letters but nobody notices. The Galactica shakes as the Galacticans are playing space basketball.) STARBUCK What was that? APOLLO That sounded like a fivon tonon bombon hitting the space library section of this space ship! ENSIGN GREENBEAN Holy frack! (Stock footage of one Galactican Viper fighter taking off three times, with STARBUCK, APOLLO, and GREENBEAN on board. We can see their faces clearly because the insides of their space helmets are gaily decorated with strands of Christmas lights. In all shots on board Vipers, we only see the pilots from the left side with a starfield moving past as they are making a continual left turn past the camera.) LORNE GREENE (watching TV in a small cubicle somewhere else) All Vipers, fire at will. (There is a massive battle of stock footage between the three or seven Vipers and the one to nine Cylons. Eventually all the Cylons have been destroyed, always making exactly the same explosion.) APOLLO That's the last of them! STARBUCK Yee-haw! When we get back to the Galactica I'm gonna have a drink of space beeron! (There is an odd humming noise.) APOLLO What's that sound? ENSIGN GREENBEAN It's too loud! STARBUCK Everyone hold it, I'm picking up something big on my scanner... (He flips a switch marked "LEM JETTISON" and we see a Tektronix storage-tube cathode-ray tube slowly drawing a still picture of a two-dimensional outline of a triangle with the point facing upwards and a line going down the middle.) STARBUCK I've never seen anything this advanced. (The hum rises in pitch so much that it makes the screen go out of focus. A giant glowing white Christmas tree overtakes them from behind and everything goes white. STARBUCK and APOLLO find themselves on an all-white limbo set. Their uniforms have turned white for no reason. Several white-sequined-fabric-draped ROCKETTES IN WHITE VEILS are standing around motionlessly.) APOLLO Are we dead? STARBUCK I hope not... I was really looking forward to that space beeron. APOLLO Just like you to think of space beeron at a time like this... Hey, were's Ensign Greenbean? STARBUCK I don't know, but I think this glowing spaceship had something to do with it. FIRST ROCKETTE IN WHITE VEIL (dubbed by James Earl Jones) You are aboard the Christmas Tree Of Lights. SECOND ROCKETTE IN WHITE VEIL (dubbed by James Earl Jones) You have passed beyond what you know to another dimension beyond all comprehension. THIRD ROCKETTE IN WHITE VEIL (dubbed by James Earl Jones) Behold! (She gestures at a blank area of the white limbo set. Several all-black artificial Christmas trees appear. STARBUCK and APOLLO walk among the Christmas trees as the limbo set changes from black to white and back repeatedly as the picture alternates negative and positive to make the Christmas trees look even spookier.) STARBUCK I don't think I like this place. APOLLO The ancient records... referred to these trees as symbols of "Ex-mas". All other knowledge about Ex-mas was lost over a billion centons ago. STARBUCK Apollo, hush up, I think I see something over there. (PATRICK MACNEE strolls into frame from between the Christmas trees. His space bowler derby is changing from black to white and back as he tries not to laugh.) PATRICK MACNEE There are too many Christmas trees here. APOLLO Who are you? STARBUCK Yeah! And, what do you want? PATRICK MACNEE I have been sent here as punishment. This is the most unimaginable torture for me. STARBUCK Hey, didn't you used to be on a cool TV show? PATRICK MACNEE That was long ago. Now I am here in the capacity of the ultimate power of negative darkness, while wearing this dress. APOLLO But can you help us in our quest to find the lost planet Earth? PATRICK MACNEE Oh, that. It's on the other side of the Moon. Your planet is always on the exact opposite side of the Moon so that Earth cannot be seen. Now you must return to your ship. (Stock footage of the giant glowing Christmas tree flying away, as it sucks exhaust back into its engines. Stock footage of the Vipers travelling backwards to a large ship that says "ACITCALAG RATSELTTAB" on the side.) LORNE GREEN (dictating to his Tektronix oscilloscope) And so the Galactica's warriors returned triumphantly, with yet another subtle hint as to the location of the Earth. But the ever-present threat of Cylon attack remains. (Stock footage of a still picture of the Cylon base star. A CYLON warrior approaches the ninety-foot-high throne of the IMPERIOUS LEADER, who cannot be seen because there are two many six-pointed sparkles shimmering around him.) CYLON WARRIOR We, failed, to, de, stroy, the, Ga, lac, ti, ca. IMPERIOUS LEADER (voice of Patrick Macnee) Then we must destroy the Galactica. CYLON WARRIOR By, your, com, mand. (exits) (The CAMERA MOVES UPWARDS on a crane so that we get a better look at the IMPERIOUS LEADER. He is an extra-creepy SANTA CLAUS.) SANTA CLAUS (voice of Patrick Macnee) Ho! ... Ho! ... Ho! (CAMERA PULLS BACK from SANTA CLAUS to the stock footage of the Cylon base star, to a view of deep space, to a view of the whole Universe, and comes out of the black part of the pupil of the NURSE's eye. The padded cell has changed to all black, as has her uniform.) NURSE Now that "The Special Show" is over, you can open your present. (The NURSE holds a pretty package up to the TV camera's lens.) NURSE Go ahead, take it. Just reach into the TV screen and take it. (She waits for a moment.) NURSE You're not trying! Push against the glass harder! (Suddenly, a network of cracks appears in the picture. An area in the middle of the picture shatters away, revealing blackness behind. From an infinite distance, the extra-creepy SANTA CLAUS floats towards the hole until his face is seen in closeup.) SANTA CLAUS (voice of Patrick Macnee) Ho! ... Ho! ... Ho! And have a VERY SPECIAL CHRISTMAS! CUT TO: BLACK ANNOUNCER (V.O.) "The Special Show!" was partially funded by a generous grant from Hallmark. END ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.usage.english,soc.culture.british From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: "Cool:" Word of the decade X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 23:16:54 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com In alt.religion.kibology, alt.usage.english, and soc.culture.british, Bonnie Granat (bgranat@lynx.dac.neu.edu) wrote: > > "leeb", formerly known as Lee Bumgarner (nurd@mindspring.com) wrote: > > > > No other word in the English language has become more pervasive than > > "Cool." I'm sure it's right up there with "O.K." as a word that even > > your most snooty French waiter actually uses while he's getting ready > > to pee on your escargo. > > > > As a sign of cool's power, entire sentances have been reduced to its > > utterance. > > > > Ie > > > > "We're going to pull out knives and kill a couple of folks" > > > > "Cool." > > > > In the past, say, pre 1980, they may have said "Uh, that's alright, > > but what if we used a GUN instead!" > > > Sorry, dude, but "cool" has been around since the late 1950s. Back in the 1940s, how did they describe the interior of a refrigerator which wasn't very cold and wasn't warm either? I THINK THE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY SHOULD BE CALLED IN TO LAY DOWN THE LAW! -- K. THE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY TRUMPS THE AMERICAN CONSTITUTION! (of course, just about anyone can get a word into the OED these days...) ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: STORY (new): Spot's WebTV Christmas (Christmas 1999) X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 07:44:57 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Believe it or not, this is the ninth annual Christmas Spot story written on Christmas day itself. (Okay, I started a few hours early. But Christmas Eve counts as Christmas because it's got "Christmas" in it.) This is better than my other story about Spot's WebTV because this was written after I actually fought with one of the things for a few hours so I can vouch for it being technically accurate to an even higher degree than if it had been written by Mr. Spock. And hopefully sillier. ---------------------------------------- BEGIN READING BELOW THIS LINE, NOW SPOT'S WEBTV CHRISTMAS Copyright (C) 1999 James "Kibo" Parry It had been a happy 1999. Martin Landau and Barbara Bain were living it up in polyester bell-bottoms on the Moon, and that Prince song was just as popular as ever. And it had been fifteen years since George Orwell's book stopped being worth reading. Spot was looking forward to Christmas 1999, the last Christmas before the first turn of the century of the new millennium (there was going to be one in 2001, too.) Because Spot didn't have any friends this year, he would buy himself the bestest Christmas present he could afford. So he went to Sears. On his way there on the subway, recently-installed video monitors above every seat showed him commercials. (Subways are public places, so they have to be filled with commercials.) The screen showed a stupid TV viewer trying to guess the answers on "Jeopardy!", and then Alex Trebek stopped the show to explain that the stupid person wasn't qualified to watch regular "Jeopardy!" and should instead buy a WebTV. "WebTV has interactive game shows for stupid people. If you're really stupid, buy a WebTV!" Then there was another WebTV commercial involving that other super-brainy game show, "Wheel of Fortune". "Wow!" said Spot as the train went past his station, "I qualify to play interactive game shows on WebTV!" He took the train back one stop and went into Sears. In Sears, there was a Philips brand WebTV and a Sony brand WebTV side by side. Spot found a Sears clerk. "What's the difference between the Philips WebTV and the Sony WebTV?" "Uh... I don't know. We just got those in last year. Give me a minute and I'll look at the units that are on display. I'll look at them for you. Hmm, the Philips WebTV has a keyboard where a few of the keys glow in the dark. But the Sony WebTV has a keyboard with a bigger space bar. That's the only difference. And by the way, keyboards are not included." Spot bought the Sony WebTV and a matching keyboard (they were both black) and took them home. He wrapped them up and put them under his Christmas tree and then opened them five seconds later. "WOW! A WEBTV!" yelled Spot. "AND IT'S FOR MEEEEEE!" He tore open the WebTV's box and inside was a pamphlet which said "INSTRUCTIONS - READ THESE FIRST." Underneath it was another which said "DON'T READ THOSE INSTRUCTIONS - READ THESE FIRST." And underneath that was one titled "OKAY, READ THOSE FIRST, BUT READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS FIRSTER." On the bottom was a tiny one which said "IGNORE ALL PREVIOUS PAMPHLETS, THERE ARE ACTUALLY NO INSTRUCTIONS." So, Spot put all the instruction books aside and watched the included instructional videotape. It was kind of boring because it just sat there on the coffee table. Spot didn't have a VCR. So, he just hooked up the WebTV to the TV as best he could without reading the instructions. He figured out how to plug in the power cord all by himself. Spot was proud! He turned on his TV and his WebTV and watched what happened next. The WebTV displayed an animated image of a scary drive down a dangerous night highway, where the yellow stripes down the middle of the road were going past faster than the yellow stripes at the side of the road. Also, Spot's imaginary car was halfway into the oncoming lane. As the WebTV connected to the Internet, it made pretty "boopBOOPbeepBOOPbeep" noises, followed by a rendition of "The Windmills Of Your Mind", because Spot didn't deserve to hear the actual sounds coming from the unit's modem, which would have sounded like "boopBOOPbeepBOOPbeepSCREEEEECH... bit... bit... bit... (pause) bit..." Spot wondered why it was taking so long to connect to the Internet with this super-fast 33.6 modem. He checked the box and found out that "33.6" meant that it was 33.6% as fast as a regular modem. Eventually, it connected to the Internet. Then it displayed a message which said "NOW UPDATING YOUR WEBTV. THIS WILL TAKE 20 MINUTES AND CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED." Forty minutes later, it was done updating. Then it restarted itself and did it again. Two hours later, it asked Spot to type in his name and password using an "on-screen" keyboard, which meant it wasn't a keyboard, it was just a cartoon of one. Because the WebTV assumed that Spot was too stupid to have ever seen a typewriter, the on-screen keyboard's letters were in Sesame Street order and not typewriter order. This made it hard for Spot to type in his clever, hard-to-guess password, "QWERTY". After a while, everything was all set up. Unfortunately, by now, all the game shows had been off the air for twelve hours, so Spot would have to learn to operate his WebTV while waiting for the game shows to come back in the morning. He looked at the WebTV's handy remote control and the optional keyboard which eliminated the need to use the awful, horrible remote control. The remote control had four arrow keys with a "GO" button in the middle. Except the "GO" button was labelled "+". And on the keyboard it was labelled "ENTER". In fact, the keyboard had all the same keys as the remote control, they were just labelled differently. But most of them performed the same functions. Sort of. And there were dozens of other useful keys on the keyboard, too! There was an "OPTIONS" key across the keyboard from the "OPTION" key. "OPTIONS" was near "SEARCH" while "OPTION" was near "FIND". Spot was starting to get confused. The keyboard had an "F" key and a "1" key and a "F1" key but when he pushed "F1" it did not make an "F" and a "1". Also, in addition to "SHIFT", the lower-left corner also had "CONTROL", "ALT", "OPTION", "FN", "META", and "ZEPTO" modifier keys. There were so many modifier keys that not even Richard Stallman would have been able to invent uses for all of them! Not even Buckminster Fuller could have pressed them all at the same time! Some of them were so obscure that not even Dennis Miller could have made a joke about them! Spot experimentally tapped each of them once, but they didn't do anything, because they only did things on computers, and the WebTV wasn't a computer. Also, he discovered that once the "CAPS LOCK" key had been pushed down, it could never come up again. Spot noticed that there was a slot on the front of the WebTV marked "SMART CARD". Rummaging through the materials that had been included in the box, he found something that looked like a credit card with a computer chip on it. It was glued to the main instruction manual with what appeared to be Krazy Glue. He peeled half of the instruction manual away from the Krazy Glue, then peeled the remaining shreds of the manual away one by one. Eventually, enough of the manual had been destroyed that he was able to put the smart card into the slot. The WebTV displayed, "CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE USING A SMART CARD! YOUR IQ IS NOW: 28." The "28" changed to "27" as Spot watched, as his IQ was slowly siphoned off by the WebTV in order to make the smart card smarter. Then a crook reached in through the window and stole Spot's smart card and used it to cheat on the SAT. "Waah!" cried Spot, "I'm a victim of an intellectual-property theft! I wish WebTV made all of the Internet EXCEPT cybercrime easier!" Looking over the WebTV, Spot noticed a large hatch bolted shut on the right side of the unit. It said "WEBTV PORT". Spot found a screwdriver and opened the hatch. Inside was... nothing. Spot was nearly sucked into the WebTV by the awesome force of the vacuum inside! There was a swirling maelstrom of nothingness where the "WEBTV PORT" wasn't! Spot slammed the hatch shut and concluded that Sony had simply forgotten to finish designing his WebTV. By this time, the Sun was coming up because Spot had been fighting with his WebTV all night. He needed to learn to use it fast (assuming anything with a 33.6 modem COULD be used fast) because Spot's favorite game shows would be on TV in a few hours! He looked at the screen. In big kindergarten letters that flickered and shimmered and wavered, it said: S P O T ' S H O M E P A G E Y O U R H O R O S C O P E : The rest of the screen was filled with important daily news such as Spot's horoscope and lucky numbers, but Spot couldn't read them because the letters were so big that his eyes couldn't focus on them. Okay, so this was the Web. But how could he watch interactive TV on this WebTV? Spot pressed the "VIEW" button on his keyboard. Nothing happened immediately, so he pushed it again. There was a ten-second pause, then the screen spun around and went "WHOOSH!", and then it did it again, and then there was another ten-second pause. So Spot pushed it a third time and waited ten seconds for the screen to spin around smoothly. Now Spot was looking at "The TV Home Page". It automatically (and secretly) connected to the Post Office to cancel Spot's subscription to "TV Guide", because it was now conveniently listing all the TV shows that Spot could watch on cable or his satellite dish. Neither of which he had. But it was gratifying to know that on channel B-67 he could be watching something named "LOCAL ACC" 24 hours a day. "TV Guide" wouldn't have told him what was on B-67! Now he knew what was on B-67 at all times! NOTHING! In a little business-card-size window in the corner of the screen, the WebTV allowed him to actually watch TV. With the program guide's giant letters surrounding the tiny picture. Spot strained his eyes trying to figure out whether he was watching a talk show or pornography, but couldn't because the picture was so small he could cover it with his smart card. (Which he tried to do, but it didn't make the TV program any smarter.) After a while, he figured out how to watch TV with the WebTV: 1.) Turn on the WebTV and wait a few minutes for it to dial the Internet. 2.) Push "VIEW" and wait a few seconds for the screen to spin around to "TV Home". 3.) Use the arrow keys to move the yellow box to the little TV picture. 4.) Press "+" on the remote control and/or "ENTER" on the keyboard. The WebTV made watching TV so much easier! Half an hour later, he discovered that to get the WebTV menus to reappear, he had to press "BACK", because "VIEW" didn't do anything if you ever tried to use it again. "WAAH! I AM STARTING TO THINK I MADE A BAD PURCHASE!" cried Spot, as he hurled the little toy keyboard at his TV in frustration. It bounced harmlessly off his glass picture tube. However, it landed key-side-down on top of his remote control. The buttons rubbed against other buttons and did something magical. The TV channels changed to a random number, the "WEBTV PORT" popped open, and Spot was sucked in just as an interactive game show was starting! PLEASE CHOOSE A CHANNEL NUMBER FROM 1 TO 13: 1. Spot was on Channel 1. Now, as everyone knows, there's no Channel 1, except for that thing they force elementary-school students to watch that shows nothing but commercials for major multinational conglomerates. But, all cable television receivers, VCRs, and TVs let you tune to Channel 1 these days. So the local cable TV company always fills Channel 1 with ads for the pay-per-view movies showing on other channels. In technical terms, this is called the "barker channel". "Oh boy!" yapped Spot, "I'm on the barker channel! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARKBARKBARKBARK! BARK!" "Hello, Spot," said an elderly man with superb white hair and a tall skinny microphone, "You're here to guess the prices of these consumer goods made by major multinational conglomerates!" "Oh no! It's Bob Barker!" barked Spot as he tried to run away, but there was no escape from Channel 1. He was forced to do demeaning things, such as to reach into Bob Barker's pocket to look for hundred-dollar bills, and to shop for pantyhose and cat food. And worse, thanks to WebTV, millions of bored housewives could play along with the game show at home! Spot came in last. Millions of housewives won big prizes, but all Spot got was a lousy consolation prize: Another WebTV. It was the worst Christmas ever! THE END. 2. Spot found himself on Channel 2, a PBS station. He looked around and saw that he was surrounded by brown bunny rabbits that were munching on Astroturf. Spot was in the middle of "Teletubbies"! "Wook! Puppy!" said Laa-Laa, pointing at Spot with one of her mittens which passed for hands in Teletubbyland. "Puppy! Puppy!" screamed Tinky Winky, happily whacking Spot with his little red purse. Spot screamed and ran into a nearby domed structure of some sort. He slammed the door and looked around, and was startled to discover that he had just locked himself inside the Tubbytronic Superdome! Fortunately, none of the four Teletubbies was inside with him. (They were all busy chasing computer-animated butterflies, each of which contained only two polygons.) Spot was alone in the Tubbytronic Superdome with the Tubby Custard dispenser, the Tubby Toast machine, and... the Noo-Noo. Spot eyed the Noo-Noo warily. Not only did it have big creepy eyes and make constant slobbering noises, but it appeared to have a midget inside of it, and either the midget's or someone else's pink butt was sticking out of the back of it. It came after Spot with its prehensile, sucking appendage. Spot screamed again and ran away. However, Spot couldn't find any place to hide from the Noo-noo. There were no corners in the Tubbytronic Superdome. There was no furniture except for a kidproof card table. And there were no other rooms. There was a slide that Spot could slide upwards on, but whenever he did that he just reappeared at the opposite side of the same room just like in "Pac-Man". Just then, the four pastel-colored monsters broke down the door and began chasing him around. It WAS just like "Pac-Man"! Except that Spot couldn't find any blinking white power pills to eat to let him eat the Teletubbies. Spot wished he could eat the Teletubbies. But they ate him first. THE END. 3. Spot go sucked into Channel 3, which was the special channel reserved for the output of his WebTV. So Spot got sucked back into his WebTV so that he could come out on Channel 3, which meant he got sucked back into his WebTV so that he could come out on Channel 3, again and again and again. "Waah!" cried Spot as he whirled around in an endless loop deep inside the WebTV's circuitry. Spot's only hope for an end to this madness was for someone to turn off his WebTV. But Spot lived alone, so that would never happen! Spot hoped that maybe, just maybe, a burglar would break into his home and steal his WebTV, which would necessitate unplugging it. Years later, Spot was still going around inside his WebTV, even though everything else in his home had been stolen. Although Spot's WebTV was no longer hooked up to a television, it was still running, which meant that Spot couldn't see anything! "Waah! I'm in a WebTV and I'm blind!" wailed Spot. Then, a mad arsonist went out of his way to burn down Spot's home except for his WebTV. On the site of Spot's home, they poured the concrete foundation for a new skyscraper. Spot's WebTV -- still plugged-in -- was covered with two feet of concrete. It ran for millennia, until the electrons that now made up Spot wore out. Spot came to a mercifully painless end -- he felt no pain because it took him millions of years to die slowly. CONGRATULATIONS! YOU FOUND THE ONLY HAPPY ENDING. THE END. 4. Channel 4 was CBS, and Spot showed up in a shabby blue armchair sitting across from David Letterman's desk. "Well, Spot, I'm going to interview you in just a minute. But first I have to do this 'hilarious' comedy bit. I'm going to say some words that I like, and I'm going to say them over and over. Got that? I'm going to say them over and over." Spot cringed as the comedy began. Letterman laughed for a moment at how funny he was about to be, and then began. "Words I like. Pants." (The camera showed a closet full of pants.) "Ham." (The camera showed a canned ham.) "Ass." (The camera showed a donkey.) "Meat." (The camera showed a steak.) "Pants." (The camera showed a man's butt.) "Ham." (A man's butt.) "Ass." (A man's butt.) "Meat." (A man's crotch.) "Pants. Ham. Ass. Meat. Pants. Ham. Ass. Meat. Pants! Ham! Ass! Meat! And the only thing funnier than pants, ham, ass, and meat... IMMIGRANTS!" With the comedy out of the way, Letterman turned to where Spot was sitting, but he was already dead. Spot had died of amazement when he realized he actually had a desire to switch channels _to_ Jay Leno's show. THE END. 5. "WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?" yelled Regis Philbin as Spot fell into Channel 5. "I do!" said Spot. "Is THAT your final answer?" "Uh... yeah." "Is THAT your final answer to 'Is THAT your final answer?'?" "I guess..." "And is THAT your final answer to 'Is THAT your final answer to "Is THAT your final answer?"?'?" "Waah!" cried Spot, "This is going to be another one of those endings where I get caught in an endless loop and the same horrible thing happens to me over and over for all eternity, just like the story where I go to Channel 10!" But Regis wasn't familiar with the story on Channel 10, so they went over there to show him. GO TO CHANNEL 10. 6. Spot turned up on Channel 6, which was UPN. They were showing "Star Trek: Voyager". Because they only ever showed "Star Trek: Voyager". And a bunch of sitcoms starring black people, which were lame shows because the TV executives only allowed them to put black people on shows that were bad. Because Spot was on UPN's flagship program, "Star Trek: Voyager", he was surrounded by unusually well-constructed sets (they had been built for a much better "Star Trek" series that was made for syndication, not stinky ol' UPN) and an occasional highly-expensive computer-animated special effect. There was one of those coming up right now. "Red alert!" yelled Captain Janeway as purple and green tendrils of four-dimensional gaseous rocks emerged from a hole through the Universe and grabbed the _Voyager_, causing half of it to become sentient and the other half of it to turn into cheese. Furthermore, invisible, insubstantial, undetectable radiation of a type never before detected was turning the crew into pairs of Siamese twins, all of whom were pregnant with dinosaurs! Spot yawned. He'd already seen this plot five times before on "Star Trek: Voyager". "Captain Janeway, if I may be so bold as to suggest the obvious course of action... order your engineers to invent a new form of propulsion within the next five minutes. It will enable the ship to escape by going at ten trillion times the speed of light, but it will only work until the end of the episode, and fallout from it will change the laws of physics so that not only will it never work again, but everyone will forget all about it forever." "Make it so!" yelled the captain, as she adjusted her protective helmet, which was made out of hair. Spot clung to a chair as the ship tilted to the left and then tilted to the right, both of which it had to do in order to go really fast. In fact, the _Voyager_ went so fast that time went backwards, and Spot turned into an embryo. And then he evolved backwards into an ameba, and then into a random cloud of hydrogen atoms. Time went backwards so far that Spot turned into part of the Big Bang, and exploded. A new Universe was created out of the explosion of Spot. This universe was shaped vaguely like a puppy. And, because quarks from inside Spot's DNA and memory cells were distributed throughout the entire Universe, all planets evolved life consisting entirely of stupid little puppies who cried constantly and were forced to use WebTVs. It was the worst ten trillion Christmases ever! THE END. 7. Channel 7 was NBC, and Spot was now on a rerun of NBC's "seaQuest DSV"! "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Spot. Roy Scheider picked up Spot and hugged him, and Spot got stuck to the thick layer of brown greasepaint that covered every inch of Scheider's body. Spot was only able to escape after the Oscar-winning actor dropped him when he fell off his shoe lifts. Spot couldn't figure out how to open the door to the only corridor leading off the Bridge, but there was another way out: A water-filled tube led through the ship so the first officer, who was a dolphin, could get around. "Doggie!" yelled the superintelligent psychic talking dolphin, who tried to eat Spot. Spot tried to hide from him, but the dolphin was much smarter than he was. The dolphin chased him all the way back to the bridge. He ran over to Roy Scheider. "Mr. Oscar-winning Roy Scheider, sir, you've got to help me! I don't deserve to be here! I need to get off this crappy show!" Upon hearing those sentences, Roy Scheider sued him for plagiarism. THE END. 8. Channel 8 was The Classic Sports Network. "Oh boy!" yelped Spot, "I can see if Superbowl XIV has the same ending this time around!" Unfortunately, all they were showing were golf games from the early 1970s. Spot fell asleep. By the time he woke up, the cable company had rearranged the channels, and The Classic Sports Network had moved to Channel 27. "Oh boy!" yelped Spot predictably, "Now I won't have to watch thirty-year-old golf on whatever channel they put in its place!" Unfortunately, they replaced The Classic Sports Network with The Golf Channel. And all _they_ showed were golf games from the early 1970s. The difference was that they somehow managed to make them more boring. Spot fell asleep again. When he woke up, he discovered that the cable company had performed yet another reshuffling of the dial. The Golf Channel was gone and had been replaced by The Cartoon Network. And all they were showing were thirty-year-old Hanna-Barbera cartoons in which poorly animated people played golf. Only with less action, less excitement, and less fashion sense. Spot was now so bored that he was too tired to even fall asleep. He watched golf-oriented cartoons until his brain turned to oatmeal. Fortunately, that didn't take long, especially in the case of Spot. (He never was a particularly bright little puppy.) Once enough of Spot's brain cells had died, he began to enjoy the concept of old, scripted, two-dimensional golf games. He started to look forward to each exciting golf adventure as he watched them over and over. And then, the cable company replaced The Cartoon Network with Bravo. All they were showing were interpretive dances representing the concept of golf. Spot's remaining brain cells dimmed and went out. It was the most brain-damaging Christmas ever! THE END. 9. Spot washed up on the shores of Channel 9, Nick At Nite, which was showing a "Happy Days" episode from the final season. Spot wandered into Arnold's, which was now a roller disco. Chachi Junior and Replacement Potsie had decided to perform "Rigoletto" at Arnold's and meanwhile, Joanie was undergoing counseling for her menopause. Spot hadn't remembered that the show had ever gotten this bad, because he had stopped watching it three seasons after the main character had left. Then he noticed that the view out the window showed three suns and a purple, ringed planet. He checked a map on the wall of Arnold's and discovered that the series now took place on The Planet Craptacula. "Nanoo-nanoo!" said Dork, the wacky alien from Craptacula, played by Jim Carrey. Spot screamed and hid behind the jukebox, which was playing a hit by The Bangles. However, his hiding place was exposed when Chachi Junior crashed his talking crime-fighting car through the wall. Arnold's was demolished, for the ninth time! And now Spot would have to help rebuild it by next week! The mere thought of such manual labor made Spot sob as he crawled out from under the mound of plaster dust and curly fries. They went to work right away because they had to finish on time because Presidential candidate Donald Trump was about to visit and deliver a special moral message. Rebuilding Arnold's was a lot of work. Very special episodes were hard! Just then, the canned audience went wild, cheering for precisely 10.0 seconds (no more, no less) because Fonzie 2000 entered. He looked up from his copy of _The Wall Street Journal_ just long enough to say "Sit on it!" to the camera, and then left until next week. "Waah!" cried Spot, who was overwhelmed by the crappiness of crappy "Happy Days". Then Ralph Malph III crashed his flying saucer in Arnold's. Spot glanced up at the wall calendar and found that, due to a Y2K-induced computer error, the show was still in production in this distant, futuristic year 2525. Fonzie The Twenty-Seventh entered, walking on his nine holographic legs, and pushed the button that said "Sit on it!" Replacement Replacement Replacement Replacement Replacement Potsie filed his performance over the Internet for this very special episode, transmitted in four-dimensional Spherovision. Spot hid behind the superintelligent gelatinous jukebox once again as Omega Fonzie (who had evolved beyond need of a physical body) introduced a very special episode about the cooling of the Sun. Spot consoled himself by thinking over and over, "Eventually they'll have to cancel 'Happy Days'. Eventually they'll have to cancel 'Happy Days'." And, around the time all the protons in the Universe had started to decay, they did indeed cancel "Happy Days". To make room on their schedule for the 100,000,000,000,000,000th season of "Murphy Brown". Spot screamed and screamed until all the protons in his body exploded. THE END. 10. Channel 10 was The Sci-Fi Channel, which was showing "The Battlestar Galactica Chain Reaction Marathon." Spot screamed and dived into a handy space warp, which dumped him out over on Channel 30, which was The Game Show Network, showing a twenty-five-year-old episode of "Chain Reaction" starring Bill Cullen. Spot screamed again and ran back across twenty channels because he decided he'd rather be trapped in the "Battlestar Galactica" marathon than any sort of game show. (Game shows were too brainy!) Aboard the _Galactica_, Spot took up residence, and was immediately put to work watching stock footage. He saw the same Viper fighter being launched over and over, and he saw the same Cylon ship exploding in the upper left corner of the screen, and he saw the same shot of Lorne Greene dictating his memoirs into a salt shaker over and over. There was an odd, repetitive jerking in Spot's legs. Spot looked down and was shocked to realize that _he_ was gradually turning into stock footage! Spot ran over to Ensign Greenbean, memorably played by Ed Begley, Jr. "Help!" yelled Spot, "I'm turning to Spot ran over to Ensign Greenbean, memorably played by Ed Begley, Jr. "Help!" yelled Spot, "I'm turning to Spot ran over to Ensign Greenbean, memorably played by Ed Begley, Jr. "Help!" yelled Spot, "I'm turning to It was the worst Christmas ever! Also, it was the worst Christmas _forever_! THE END. 11. Spot materialized on Channel 11, another one of the five local PBS affiliates. Of course, all five stations were strapped for cash for some reason -- after all, they only got ninety-five percent of their operating budget from the government -- so they were airing a six-hour "pledge break" where, for six hours, they bored Spot by telling him over and over that their programming was never interrupted for commercials. Then, they aired "The McLaughlin Group". "THE McLAUGHLIN GROUP IS MADE POSSIBLE BY THE ARCHER DANIELS MIDLAND CORPORATION. A-D-M, THE MAKER OF DELICIOUS HARVEST BURGERS, IS PROUD TO BRING YOU THIS COMMERCIAL-FREE PROGRAM! A-D-M, SUPERMARKET TO THE WORLD!" "Welcome to the show, Spot!" said John McLaughlin. "Issue one! Just how incredibly delicious are A-D-M's delicious Harvest Burgers?" Spot opened his mouth to say something. "Well--" "WRONG! A-D-M's Harvest Burgers are INSANELY DELICIOUS!" Mr. McLaughlin took a big bite of one. "Would you like one, Spot?" "Uh--" "WRONG! You would LOVE one!" McLaughlin jammed something into Spot's mouth. It tasted like cardboard, only staler, and soaked in artificial smoke flavor. Spot had never been allowed to eat anything delicious before. And now Spot knew what deliciousness tasted like. Deliciousness was bad! A tear rolled down Spot's cheek because this was the worst Christmas ever. It was deliciously bad. THE END. 12. Channel 12 was Telemundo, a Spanish-language network. They were showing a Mexican game show. Nothing more needs to be said. This was the very worstest Christmas of all. THE END. 13. The fluctuating airwaves deposited Spot on Channel 13, which was The Cartoon Network. He was in the middle of one of Hanna-Barbera's lesser-known, and certainly least-loved cartoons. And more importantly, he couldn't move from the neck down! He could only slide smoothly to the left or the right, provided that he was always behind something which was at least waist-high, and he could only do stuff after he slid off the side of the screen, and the only thing he could do after he slid off the screen was to bump into a lamppost, which set off the cartoon's laugh track. "Waah!" cried Spot in the voice of a bored Casey Kasem. Spot needed to find a way to escape from this crudely-drawn, two-dimensional, barely-animated dimension. He checked with all the mad scientists he could find in Hanna-Barbera Land, but even their magnets which attracted all the gold in the world, weather machines, easy-to-animated invisibility potions, and ghost disguises couldn't get Spot out of the animation cel which was now his prison. Then, Fred Flintstone's car ran him over, Yogi Bear stole his pic-a-nic basket, and the Superfriends taught him a valuable moral lesson about how it was wrong to destroy the space program just because of all the wars and starvation here on Earth. This sucked! And worst of all, at the end of every episode, Spot had to perform a musical number with Jabberjaw. And he was never allowed to realize that there was anything odd about a nine-foot-tall shark who talked like Curly The Stooge but kept quoting Rodney Dangerfield's catchphrase and could change into various household objects. This, of course, was accomplished by giving Spot a lobotomy with a pencil eraser. It would have been the worst Christmas ever if Spot were still smart enough to realize the difference between goodness and badness! THE END. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: www.kibo.com updated X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 08:53:11 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Just wanted to say that the new stories I just posted here ("Spot's WebTV Christmas" and "Einstein Saves Y2Kmas") are now available on www.kibo.com along with all the old Christmas stories. Also, www.kibo.com now features all the scripts for "The Special Show", including the two new ones I just premiered (lost episode #6 and Christmas special #7.) http://www.kibo.com If you don't go there now, you will be automatically redirected there in 0.15 seconds by Secret Invisible JavaScript That Works In Any Browser Even If Your Browser Is No Browser Ha Ha Ha(TM). -- K. As if JavaScript EVER works. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Here comes a meme! Date: Sun, 26 Dec 1999 04:11:30 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com The United Press said: > > Subject: Magnet games recalled before Christmas > > WASHINGTON, Dec. 22 (UPI) -- Safari Ltd. is recalling 21,000 magnet > games that have about 60 multi-colored metal figures in the shapes of > butterflies, frogs or fish. > The Consumer Product Safety Commission said Wednesday that paint on > the small magnets poses a lead poisoning hazard to young children. > The CPSU and Miami-based Safari said they have received no reports of > injuries related to the products, which were sold in small toy and gift > stores nationwide from January through November. > The magnet games were packaged in triangle-shaped boxes labled > Magnetic Frog Fantasy, Item No. 6652-16; Magnetic Butterfly Rainbow, > Item No. 6653-16 and Magnetic Coral Reef Collage, Item No. 6654-16. I'm having a Magnetic Frog Fantasy right now, if you know what I mean. -- K. Warning: Cat-Like Magnetic Frog Fantasy Detected! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Man Of The Millennium Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 06:49:05 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com "Waah!" cried Hitler as he saw that _Time_ magazine hadn't named him Man Of The Millennium. He hadn't been saluted by _Time_ since 1938! He made a mental note to cancel his subscription as he threw away his copy of 1999's final issue, the one with Albert Einstein on the cover. Meanwhile, far away... Albert Einstein was watching "E!" which was showing a two-hour profile of the life story of Erik Estrada. Just then, an announcer broke in: "We interrupt this program to bring you this important news: Albert Einstein is _Time_'s Man Of The Millennium!" "Waah!" cried Einstein, "I'm missing Erik Estrada!" Meanwhile, not so far away... Spot checked his little mailbox (nailed to the side of his doghouse in Einstein's front yard) to see if his copy of _Time For Dogs_ had arrived. And indeed, it had! "Yay!" yapped Spot as he fumbled to find the front cover in his excitement to see if he had made Dog Of The Millennium. Spot hadn't had that honor since... well... never! Eventually, Spot untangled his copy of _Time For Dogs_ and the Dog Of The Millennium was... on the cover was... was... Albert Einstein! "Waah!" cried Spot, "Albert Einstein is a better dog than me!" Meanwhile, in a distant and insignificant place, Erik Estrada cried because he was now so unimportant that he wasn't even allowed to subscribe to _Time_, let alone be Man Of The Millennium. IT WAS THE WORST MILLENNIUM EVER! THE END. -- K. Sometimes you just have to write a story even if you can't think of a plot. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Christmas in Iran Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 07:48:54 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Found on the Web: > CHRISTMAS IN IRAN > > Christmas in Iran is "Little Feast" and begins with a fast on December > 1st. Iranians eat no meat, eggs, milk, or cheese on this day. No cheese? YAY! I AM CELEBRATING IRANIAN CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY! But I'll still move to Irania if it means I can eat even LESS cheese on December 25th. > It is a time for peace and prayer. On December 25th, Little Feast begins > after church. A favorite dish called harasa is eaten. It is a chicken stew. Sounds good. Especially the part about it NOT HAVING CHEESE IN IT! > People in Iran do not give gifts on Christmas. I wonder why our government used to tell us that Iran is evil. It sounds like I'd be very happy living there. "No Christmas gift for you, Potsie! I'm Iranian now! Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go to the bank and watch my money not being withdrawn!" > But children always get new clothes and wear them proudly at Christmas time. I don't plan to have any kids so I see no impediments to me moving to Iran. Wait! Wait! I found another Web page that was right next to that one! > CHRISTMAS IN IRAQ > > Christians in Iraq celebrate Christmas in a special way. On Christmas Eve, > the family gathers together and one of the children reads about the birth > of Jesus while other family members hold lighted candles. And if you don't have children, you are not allowed to celebrate Christmas in Iraq! > After the reading, a bonfire made of thorn bushes is lit in the yard. That's from the part of the Bible where the talking cross appeared before Jesus while he was nailed to a burning thorn bush. > If the thorns burn to ashes, it means good luck. I think I'd rather go to Iran and have chicken stew instead of bush ash. So, that whole war thing just happened because George Bush was afraid they were going to burn him? > While the fire burns, everyone sings and when it dies, everyone jumps > over the ashes three times. Each person makes a wish. On Christmas Day, > another bonfire is lit. This one is in the churchyard and the signals > the beginning of the service. The bishop comes in diagonally > carrying a figure of the Christ child on a red pillow. After the > service, the bishop blesses one person with a touch. Then that person > touches the person next to him or her. Everyone touches the next person in > turn. Finally everyone has the "touch of peace" on Christmas Day. THE IRAQI TOUCH OF PEACE IS NO MATCH FOR GEORGE BUSH'S STINGER MISSILE!!! Anyway, after having read those articles, all I can say is that Christmas in Iraq sounds really boring but Christmas in Iran sounds like it would be even more fun than Christmas in a Christian country. -- K. If I move to Iran, I'll have to stop using a .signature at the end of the article, and start using a .basmala at the top. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.physics,alt.religion.kibology,alt.sci.physics.plutonium From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Why do dogs bark according to QM? Mommie please help me... Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:05:25 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: sci.physics In sci.physics, Smart1234 (smart1234@aol.com) wrote: > > [...rant about the wrongness of quantum-mechanical theory...] > > BUT MY THEORIES ANSWER EVERYTHING, IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE. Okay, then you should have no trouble here: What are eleven words that rhyme with 'orange'? Have you stopped beating your wife? If gravity moved in zigzags, how could we stop from getting dizzy? What's the opposite of Pez? Why couldn't Einstein figure out how to comb his hair? Why are Wendy's burgers square like White Castles but without the five holes? Why am I watching a "Happy Days" rerun? Aren't you going to stop beating your wife? > Why don't I get credit? Have you tried taking out a debit card? > Because I don't to this, or that or the other, according to their > distinguished modern "armchair" standards. That's right, because you didn't to this, you're a tope. -- K. Why don't I like cheese? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.physics,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Why do dogs bark according to QM? Mommie please help me... Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 09:41:13 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: sci.physics In sci.physics, "Smart1234" (smart1234@aol.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > "Smart1234" (smart1234@aol.com) wrote: > > > > > > BUT MY THEORIES ANSWER EVERYTHING, IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE. > > > > > > [...] > > > > > > Why don't I get credit? > > > > Have you tried taking out a debit card? > > > > Answer to all of the above. > > C== ----------------- > | | > | | > ______________ > ( ) > ( ) > ( ) Helix Spiral Field > _________ > _________ > > Flush..... > > Any more questions??? Yes. Why does your ASCII picture of Garfield The Cat look so deformed? Why does your Commodore-64 logo have two equals signs and not one? Shouldn't you add a star for Perth? Have you stopped beating your wife? -- K. WOO! I JUST GOT ZINGED BY SOME GUY WHO PICKED HIS NAME TO SHOW HOW SMART HE IS! ...IT SHOWS THAT HE CAN COUNT UP TO 4! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.physics.electromag,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: US Mind Control Crimes Against Humanity Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:20:57 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: sci.physics.electromag In sci.physics.electromag, someone anonymously posted: > > Mind control psychological torture is now being used against > many peaceful Americans in there own homes. A typical case > involves a) constant (24 hours a day for years on end) bombardment > of the victim with mind-controlling microwave synthetic telepathy > devices, coupled with b) constant verbal harassment by neighbors, > coworkers, fellow students, and passersby. My god, Carol Paliwoda has brainwashed another person with her anti-mind-control-laser mind-control-laser! > Such victims find it difficult to obtain gainful employment, Someday I'd like to find the other kind of employment. The one where I'd have to pay someone to work for him. And then there's painful employment. I might enjoy that too if Tia Carrere and a Ping-Pong paddle are involved. Or if the money's good. > if they are still capable of work, or engage in meaningful social > relationships, especially with members of the opposite sex, It's the mind-control laser that turns you all gay and stuff! A Nobel prize-worthy discovery: Your theory just proved that it's impossible for the government to harass gay people. Quick, tell the Army. > as all such attempts are deliberately sabotaged and foiled via government > operatives, shills, informants, etc. The reason seems clear: a long term > (terminal) study will allow government agencies (FBI, CIA, NSA, DIA, etc.) You left out FEMA, the Trilateral Commission, the MBTA, and UNICEF. > to obtain data on how victims react to various mind-control > and psychological manipulation strategies, while at the same > time building up a vast network of civilians who, by cooperating > with this new cruel and cowardly system of totalitarian control, > are thereby vetted as trustworthy government loyalists, true-believers > in the necessity of cradle to grave mind-control and torture. How do YOU know they stop when you're dead? You sound like you have INSIDER INFORMATION! I bet YOU have a mind control laser in your closet! > [...] > > The more people who resist mind control and take it seriously, > the more likely it can be defeated. Mind-control victims > aren't just struggling for their own survival, they're really > fighting for the future of the human race and life as we know > (or knew if you're a victim of this evil outrage) it on this > planet. Since if the U.S. government wins this secret war > against the human mind, all people on Earth will be subject to > this cruel form of electronic slavery. Except for the ones who walked across the border into Canada. > [...] > > ** > I am not certain that a generic model of the human mind can be built. If so, your psychiatrist could save you a lot of money by substituting it for your mind. > If a model of a specific mind can be built, what would be the value of it? Yeah! Unless it's someone interesting, like Albert Einstein, Lou Costello, Queen Beatrix, Fonzie, or Charlie Brown! > I know what the idea is though; to preserve forever the thought > processes of the best psychopathic minds so that the Agency can consult > them down through the ages. It's called "DejaNews". -- K. I need to get a better joystick to control my mind-control laser. Does Microsoft make a good joystick that has both force feedback and force feeding? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian,soc.culture.pakistan,soc.culture.usa,sci.med,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Girl who changed color . Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:27:00 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: alt.religion.kibology In soc.culture.indian, soc.culture.pakistan, soc.culture.usa, and sci.med, "Mo" (100336.3631@compuserve.com) wrote: > > Jai you idiot . STOP PUTTING YOUR HEADERS IN CAPITALS > YOU BLIND SO AND SO .. > > DOCTORS are being warned about Sunny Delight syndrome. The popular > sweet fruit drink has turned a child yellow and could be affecting > many others, a paediatrician has found. Yes, but does it counteract BooBerry Syndrome? > The youngster, who had been drinking 1.5 litres every day, was brought > to him after her hands and face turned bright yellow and orange. > Analysis revealed that her condition was caused by beta carotene, an > additive which boosts the drink's orange colour and vitamin A content. It's a good thing that Sunny Delight is the only food or drink that contains either carotene or Vitamin A! > Dr Duncan Cameron, a pediatrician at Glan Clwyd hospital near Rhyl in > north Wales, said he had been amazed. "The child was aged about five. > We tested her blood levels for vitamin A, which is derived from beta > carotene, and they were very, very high." QUICK! GIVE HER AN INTRAVENOUS DRIP OF KOOL-AID TO ENSURE VITAMIN DEFICIENCY! -- K. I wish that back in the early '90s when they were making clear food, they had invented BooBerry Clear. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.tv.simpsons From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: I Smell A Banana-Flavored Lawsuit! Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:38:46 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: alt.religion.kibology Those of you who saw tonight's "Family Guy" cartoon special on Fox, the episode where the world blows up on Y2K, have undoubtedly noticed that they drew major inspiration from one of my Web pages: http://www.kibo.com/photos/nightmares_of_consumerism/ ...about halfway down, I show the Twinkies/Wonder Bread factory outlet store in Natick, Massachusetts, and there's a lovely photograph I took of Twinkie The Kid in the wooden flesh. The plot of tonight's "Family Guy" was that, after the world blew up, the only place to survive was the Twinkies factory outlet in Natick. As far as I know, I am the only person who has ever seen the Twinkies factory reject store. (Well, okay, Scott Ramming was there too, but he doesn't count because he was driving.) Therefore, I plan to bring a one-million-billion-trillion zillion dollar lawsuit against "Family Guy", and to blow up the Twinkies factory so that they can't make any more episodes like that, or those vile new "banana"-flavored Twinkies. (They were actually banana-flavored until World War II, when they switched to vanilla. Recently they decided to switch back when the amyl acetate fairy* whispered something in their ear about how artificial flavors had been invented some decades back.) * Not to be confused with the amyl nitrate fairy. Also, Leah Verre will be pleased to know that tonight's Simpsons rerun included a sign which said "Enjoy Fine Dining In Our Bee-Filled Atmosphere". I say we should cancel NASA's funding now so that they can't discover any planets that have bee-filled atmospheres. -- K. I was planning on adding to my photo gallery really soon, but if Fox is going to steal my ideas, maybe I better just shut it down for the good of humanity. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: I Smell A Banana-Flavored Lawsuit! Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 09:44:17 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Terri Willis (twillis@sound.net) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > I was planning on adding to my photo gallery really soon, but if > > Fox is going to steal my ideas, maybe I better just shut it down > > for the good of humanity. > > Aah, screw humanity. I need more purty pictures! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AS OF TODAY THE INTERNET HAS AN OFFICIAL SLOGAN! -- K. and it might be the one above! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.sports.gerstmann From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: How to get ready for the apocalypse, step 1 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:51:02 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com In alt.religion.kibology and alt.sports.gerstmann, James Calhoun (lordjames@corrupt.co.uk) wrote: > > [...] WHU-WHOOSH! NEW DOUBLE-ACTING KONTEXT-AWAY (WITH NUGGETS) BLASTS AWAY TWICE AS LITTLE CONTEXT AS IT USED TO! > That's it, Jeff. I'm calling your mommy and having her take away your > Carmageddon CD-ROM. > > [...] > > I'll bet Kibo can do a better pirate impression than that. SWA-SWISH! DOUBLE-ACTING KONTEXT-AWAY RETURNS TO ITS TWO PROTECTIVE CONTAINERS THAT STORE ONE INSIDE THE OTHER! WHICH STORES INSIDE THE ONE! AT THE SAME TIME! DO NOT STICK FINGERS INTO MOEBIUS STRIP! As to whether I can do a better pirate impression than that, here's mine: HEY D00DZ I F0UND THAT IF U P0P 0P3N THE D0R 0F THE C0MM0D0R 154O DISK DRIVE WHEN FORMATTING A DISK U CAN F0RMATT IT HALFWAY 2 MAKE A BUTTL0AD 0F BAD S3CT0RS S0 THAT YOU CAN MAKE A P3RF3CT C0PY 0F AN 3L3CTR0NIC ARTS GAME UNLESS U'VE ALR3DDY M0DIFIED U"R DRIVE!!! BUT THIS DOESN'T S33M 2 W0RK 0N CARMAGEDDIN !!!1 WHICH SIDE 0F THE CD IS THE MAGN3TIC 1 ???// -- K. It's the guys who talk like that who DON'T have computers who are the scary ones. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Total Recall! Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:59:13 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com God bless ClariNet for telling me that the Associated Press said: > > Subject: Supreme Beef Recalls Meat And the mean part is that they recalled all the beef sold by OTHER companies! > WASHINGTON (AP) -- Supreme Beef Processors, Inc. voluntarily > recalled Saturday thousands of pounds of ground beef with sell > dates of Dec. 28 or earlier because federal inspectors say it may > be contaminated with E. coli bacteria. Well I'm okay because I only have five pounds of it, not a thousand. > [...] > > Also included is Supreme Beef Processors, Inc. five- and > 10-pound chub ground beef -- an industry term denoting ground beef > packaged in a cylindrical or tube-like container -- I won't say it, I won't say it, I won't say it... > [...] > > The recall comes a few days after the company scuffled in court > with the federal government in Dallas after the Agriculture > Department tried to shut it down because it said it found > salmonella in the company's meat. But bacteria ARE a kind of meat! In a related horrifying story: > Subject: Mike Douglas Recalls Talk Show Years OH NO! NOW I HAVE TO MAIL BACK ALL THE VIDEOTAPES I MADE BETWEEN 1978 AND 1983! -- K. "a genial yet exacting host, sensing when to draw out a guest or cut off a verbose, boring visitor" is the Associated Press's description of: (a) Mike Douglas (b) Procrustes ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Quote of the Day. Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 09:09:52 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com > You are stupid and evil about the > Earth's top and bottom, front and > back and it's 2 sides. -- from www.abovegod.com -- go there and click the picture of the globe to visit www.timecube.com, which has more pictures. Anyway, I think "You are stupid and evil about the Earth's top and bottom, front and back and it's 2 sides." is the best pick-up line I've heard yet. I'm going to try it out tonight and see if it's good for finding brainy chicks. -- K. I'm stupid about all TEN sides! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: How I know we're living in the World Of The Future. X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 08:49:58 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com You know, if, seven years ago, someone had told me that it would not only be possible, but desirable, to download a 114-megabyte porno movie from the Internet, I would have called for the men with the butterfly nets because everyone knows computers can't do that. And now we're getting people pirating entire CDs by posting them on their Web sites as 650-megabyte files. I predict that in about three years we'll be discovering the joys of people E-mailing five-gigabyte DVDs to us. Without asking first. Just think, for every automatically-attached Netscape-generated ".VCF" business card you see, seven years ago it would have been a four-line .signature, and seven years from now it'll be a 3-D IMAX movie. I remember being very sad the day my 1000-line .signature stopped scaring people. And I think we've just reached the point where my third-generation one-megabyte 11x17" .PDF .signature is no big deal. I mean, it's not even as big as ELFBOWL.EXE! I feel the urge to run out and set up a terabyte disk array and fill it all up with one file just so I can E-mail it to everyone who E-mails me ELFBOWL.EXE. Although that still wouldn't be mean enough because it wouldn't spy on you the way ELFBOWL.EXE does when you run it. -- K. The phone company is warning that the phone system will start breaking on Y2K because everyone will pick up their phones simultaneously to make sure they still work. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: More important Y2K paranoia. X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 08:55:47 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com CNN Headline News just warned me to watch out for important Y2K-related fraud: Some people are selling knockoffs of popular champagnes ("HEY, THIS CHAMPAGNE TASTES LIKE GINGER ALE WITH LITE BEER IN IT!" "That's the REAL champagne you're spitting out, you putz!") and we must be ever-vigilant about this because drinking a champagne that's not expensive enough could ruin the millennium for everyone! Especially the people selling $200 champagne! Secondly, they warned me not to buy pirated copies of computer programs for use around the office, because bootleg copies of programs could have the Y2K bug. Huh? (Apparently the good folks at Macrovision have come up with a clever new copy-protection scheme that clips off the first two digits of any year when you duplicate a file.) -- K. They use a similar system to copy-protect porno videos, except it doesn't take off two digits, it takes off two inches. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.edu,sci.psychology.misc,alt.religion.kibology,alt.sex.bondage.particle.physics,alt.online-service.webtv From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: AP hauling Airstreams Re: USING GREAT QUOTES FROM MOVIES Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 09:20:13 GMT Organization: www.kibo.com Followup-To: alt.religion.kibology In sci.edu andsci.psychology.misc, Archimedes Plutonium (arc_plutonium@hotmail.com) wrote: > > Re: USING GREAT QUOTES FROM MOVIES TO MAKE A NEW MOVIE Re: USING GREAT QUOTES FROM ARCHIMEDES PLUTONIUM TO MAKE PORNO MOVIES > Well, I am happy and relieved. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #1: "Archie Is Happy And Relieved" > With the help of my friend, Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #2: "Archie Is Happy And Relieved With The Help Of His Friend" > we were able to deliver a 32' Airstream to my SD property. Now I > have only the 19' Airstream to deliver. Both will be the offices > of the Plutonium Atom Foundation. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #3: "Archie Takes It In Both Offices" > I will incorporate in SD to set up a charitable trust that > donates money freely to Darmstadt Germany GSI, Berkeley > California, Dubna Russia of heavy element nucleosynthesis. > And some donations to my alma maters of UC and Utah State > and perhaps Univ South Dakota. > > I posted about a week ago before that I was really scared and > I had every right to be. The rig of the Uhaul plus Airstream > was 64' in all, longer than even most huge trucks on the road. > And about 30 miles north of Chattanooga the Airstream hitch > came off the ball Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #4: "Archie Comes Off The Ball" > and only the chains were holding the Airstream. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #5: "Only The Chains Were Holding Me" > Luckily it did not detach from the Uhaul for people could have > been killed. (Yes, it would hve been tragic if people who weren't you were killed.) > And the nicest, kindest truck driver saw us at the rest stop Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #6: "The Nicest, Kindest Truck Driver" > where we were trying to put the rig back together. And he called > ahead on his CB to MontEagle truck stop where we had our ball > torched off Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #7: "Archie Has His Ball Torched Off" (This is really too easy.) > and a new one, larger arc welded on. The truck driver escorted > us up to MontEagle and even spoke to the Uhaul representative > to get the authority to have the proper size ball. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #8: "Archimedes Plutonium, Ball-Size Authority" > Then a day later we had trouble with tail lights Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #9: "Archie had trouble with tail Lights! Cameras! Action!" > so that we could no longer drive at night. > > But the last day we were balanced out with all of these bad things, > for on Friday, we made it all the way from Booneville > Missouri to my home in SD two hours before nightfall, giving us > plenty of time to park the Airstream, unload and get down to > Sioux City Iowa to catch a Greyhound back to Florida. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #10: "Archimedes Catches A Greyhound" > When we have a string of bad events, it is balanced out by some > great smooth days where things seem to go correctly and smoothly. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #11: "Archie's Great Smooth Days" > And in Sioux City Iowa, Christmas eve a Chinese living in Vietnam > and now in Sioux City was so kind and nice as to drive us from the > Uhaul dealer to the Greyhound bus station. We meet > so many fine and nice and outstanding people in the world. And > also in Sioux City, we had to wait several hours for the bus > and so a nearby hospital and the security guard let us wait inside > the hospital before our 10:55 departure. The world is full of kind > and generous people. > > So far this has been the best Xmas I have ever had, because of > no Xmas blues. I have done this Xmas like a Puritan, Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #12: "Archie Does Xmas" Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #13: "Archie Does Xmas Like A Puritan" Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #14: "Archime Likes A Puritan" > where I have done a huge project. Hauling an Airstream across the > country, and now I will spend a great New Years because I am > hauling one more Airstream. (Wow! So now you'll deserve TWO Nobel prizes for your scientific research into driving around aimlessly!) > I am looking forward to settling down in SD. And I realize now > better why South Dakota will be the home of the Plutonium Atom > Foundation. It is the best state to incorporate in. It is a > state that is clean and living there is simple and unencumbered. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #15: "Archimedes Unencumbered" > It is the most Thoreau-like state of the USA. It has huge-blue- > sky country where the sun is glowing bright and warm; good for > a bright psychology of mind. Clouds and rain and trees can be > gloomy. > > I am glad that SD is my home state, and I really cannot think of > a better state in all of the USA to settle in. I perhaps would > like to be near Cornell or Duke or Iowa State, but in all things > there is a weighing of good and bad, and South Dakota has the > best of everything I desire. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #16: "The Best Of Everything Archie Desires" > Now I think I will get Web TV; Wait, wait, scratch the porno movies, that just cancelled out all possible eroticism. GEE, FOLKS, I WONDER IF ARCHIE WILL BE EASIER TO MAKE FUN OF ONCE HE GETS A WEBTV? > get a iMac; and an ISP of US West or QWest and get a personal account > for Internet posting. Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #17: "Archie's Personal Account" Archimedes Plutonium-inspired porno movie title #18: "Archie's Personal Account... For Internet Posing" -- K. He's experienced with all positions, especially dishwashing. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: TODAY on The WORLD, Vol. 5 #231, Monday, December 27, 1999 X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 11:26:25 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Over in wstd.general, in "Today On The World", today@europe.std.com wrote: > > Could you have passed 8th grade in 1895? > > While bitching and moaning has been elevated to an art form recently, > a few valid points have been raised amist the wasteland of whining. Hey! That's a mixed metaphor! > Examples of questions we should all know, but may not: > > * Who were the following: Morse, Whitney, Fulton, Bell, Lincoln, > Penn, and Howe? Morse -- Played the scientist with the mechanical heart for the first season of "Space: 1999", and then mysteriously vanished between episodes. Whitney -- Made a fortune selling fog lights with smiley-face covers through a mail-order catalog. Fulton -- In the early 1800s, Boston was getting kind of crowded. So they founded a suburb in the west, "New-Towne", and renamed Boston "Full-Towne". Over the years, generations of bad spellers have caused the names to be shortened to "Newton" and "Fulton". Of course, people stopped calling Boston "Fulton" after some other guy used that name on his steam engine. Bell -- Has a highly-popular radio talk show where he tells only the truth nobody else is willing to admit they know about UFOs. Lincoln -- Inventor of the log. Penn -- Best known for being the one who doesn't not talk. Also, was married to Madonna. Ew. Howe -- Of the law firm of Dewey, Cheatham, & Howe, he also dug a popular tourist hole-in-the-ground in upstate New York. -- K. I bet Lincoln didn't know why *I* am! That proves I'm smarter than Lincoln! Better skin, too! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Burger King recalls mysteriously lethal featureless balls X-My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium Date: Tue, 28 Dec 1999 12:01:55 GMT Organization: http://www.kibo.com Okay, so I do think that toys should be designed in such a way to make it just about impossible for kids to hurt or kill themselves. Kids shouldn't be killed by toys if the toy makers can do anything about it. That being said, as Dan Aykroyd once deomstrated, sufficiently bozotic kids can hurt themselves with any sort of toy, including jamming Nerf balls down their throats while Candice Bergen watches. Today Burger King announced that it is recalling its latest crop (THAT VOWEL IS AN "O") of Pokemon toys because some kid died. The Pokemon dolls come in three-inch-wide hollow plastic balls which separate into two halves. You know, just like those eggs pantyhose come in only with some stupid sissy thing inside instead of pantyhose. Now, three inches wide is much too big to get into a kid's throat. And it's not covered with Krazy Glue. (But I think the BK Big Fish patty is.) And yet some kid managed to suffocate by "covering his mouth and nose" with half of a hollow plastic ball the size of an orange. I have been trying to figure out how this could have worked: 1.) The kid was holding it over his mouth and nose for about ten minutes and just happened to be missing the reflex that makes you pass out and go limp before you die. 2.) The kid duct-taped the thing to his face and then handcuffed both hands to the radiator. 3.) The kid's nose was so big that the plastic shell got stuck on it. 4.) The kid took an overdose of crack and got wobbly and hit his head on the sink and passed out lying face down on top of the ball half. 5.) The kid somehow figured out how to separate the ball into THREE halves and, with great strength, rammed them inside his nostrils and mouth. But try as I might, I can't imagine how this tragic death could be the fault of the toy itself and not either a freakish accident or a case of deliberate stupidity on the part of the kid. I don't see how this merits dire warnings about the dangers of hemispherical objects or the recall of a toy that has many other attributes that would be more important for the world to learn to dislike. (You know, like the fact that Burger King is giving kids plastic incarnations of toy commercials whose motto is "Gotta Catch 'Em All!" -- and there are 157 Pokemon to get. Meaning you have to eat at Burger King at least 157 times this month to get them all, assuming you could choose which one is inside the opaque sealed ball, so you would probably have to take your brat to Burger King about 600 times this month.) I can't sympathize with public outcry simply because IF YOU MAKE A MILLION OF ANYTHING, SOMEONE WILL HURT THEMSELVES IN THE VICINITY OF ONE, AND SOMETHING MUST BE DONE ABOUT THIS!!! Yes, even one kid hurting himself is tragic. No, there's not anything to be gained from taking their toys away unless we're talking about toys that actually catch fire or are wrapped in wads of razor wire. Take away the kid's plastic hemisphere and he'll have to go play with a rock. AND THEN THE KID WILL FALL AND DENT HIS FOREHEAD ON THE ROCK AND THEY'LL HAVE TO CLEANSE THE EARTH OF ROCKS! It brings to mind this summer's banning of all "dive sticks" ever made because somehow several of them spontaneously got up kids' asses after they fell on them butt-first after their pants accidentally fell down. (A repost of my dive stick rant is attached.) So, now you see why I get all my news from CNN Headline News. It's like The Three Stooges only funny because it's a lot stupider. A whole TV network devoted entirely to the lowest percentile of news stories sorted by IQ! I think they get their material by going through the dumpsters at the _USA Today_ offices. "Hey, this one says in the margin, 'Don't print this, it's too dumb for anyone to ever think about.'" "All right! Top story!" "Only 10% of all computer failures will occur during the first two weeks in January." -- what "experts say" according to CNN Headline News today. "In the future, the line between food and medicine could disappear! ... And hundreds of years from now, food could become obsolete!" -- ditto. -- K. So if they recalled dive sticks because kids were putting them up their asses, why not recall rectal thermometers? I mean, people have them put up their asses AGAINST THEIR WILL! And that's WRONG AND SICK! >>>>>>>>>>>>> dive stick repost <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Mattel Stifles Tarzan's Hand Action Date: Fri, 25 Jun 1999 20:03:37 GMT The Avocado Avenger (stacia@io.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) writes: > > > > This was a green vinyl vest YOU could put on (under your torn child-size > > T-shirt) and then inflate so that you could bulk up in a flash, just by > > draping smelly green plastic pouches over your shoulders. The ads always > > showed the kid actually bending an ordinary garden hose, and then the > > other kid said, "HERE'S YOUR ICE CREAM, STEVE!" and the kid with the muscles > > crushed the ice cream cone and said, "RRRRR!!!!" > > I am not ashamed to admit that I, a gurl, wanted this bulking-up vest thing. ^^^^ Please stop making fun of AppleEvents. The correct term is "singular of CHYX". Anyway, Stacia, I can understand why you wanted an inflatable chest to make the boys lust after you. But why GREEN? > > MATT McIRVIN'S MOST TREASURED CHILDHOOD MEMORY TRACE... AND ITS NAME IS... > > THEEEEEE SNOOOOoOOOoOoOoooOOOPY SNOWWWWW COOOONE MAAAAAACHIIIIIIINE! > > Kibo is really mean for bringing up, in one post, two things I wanted > most in my childhood. And I bought the last of the original Snoopy Snow Cone Machines a couple years ago. I tried to use it once. The stupid little revolving tinfoil grater has so much trouble shaving the ice cubes that by the time you've gotten a teaspoonful of shavings, they've all melted! > Things I wanted and got were: a Star Bird, Is that another name for an ethnic Sneech? > 6 different Barbies, a Blip (still works!), GEE, I'M SURE GLAD THE ELECTRONICS IN YOUR BLIP DIDN'T DIE. And now, my impression of Blip: (crank crank crank crank crank crank crank crank crank crank crank) BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (one-second pause) KLIK BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (one-second pause) KLIK BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (one-second pause) KLIK BZZZZzzz...z...z... (crank crank crank crank crank) For those of you who didn't grow up in the seventies, "Blip" was the first handheld thing to pretend to be a video game (in this case, "Pong".) However, microprocessors hadn't yet been released to the public ("Pong" had discrete components such as transistors, no central processor) so "Blip" was entirely mechanical -- you could play it without the battery. It was wind-up. (It did take a battery, which just made the red LED on a stick -- representing the ball -- glow continuously, but you really didn't need the battery.) At each side of the board there were three buttons, and the ball could only ever go (VERY SLOWLY) towards one of the three spots on each side. If you didn't press button 1, 2, or 3 by the time the ball came firmly to rest there, it would stop and you'd have to turn up the knob which allowed you to keep track of your opponent's score. It required two humans with very slow reflexes and infinite tolerance for tedium. I think I got mine at the same time as Gnip Gnop, which was like Blip only faster and it balls that glowed in the dark. But it was easier to break. > and a Lite Brite. (CALLBACK TO A FEW YEARS AGO, ONE OF MY FIRST ARTICLES ON THE SUBJECT OF THE WEBTV) Lite Brite, makin' spreadsheets with li-i-ite! > Blip is really, really cool, and you can prove it to people by showing > them the box with the Digital RoboFont that spells "BLip". Dear Bee Lip, Stop buzzing at me. Go wind down. The "BLip" logo was presumably designed by the same guy who did those Danvers police cars that have square letters saying "PoLice". Spot took a tick bath! Po' Lice! > I will now sit back and wait for Kibo to bring up the recall of 87 > million kids' light sabers that heat to a dangerous level even when turned > off. I think it is more important to note that the same batch of government-mandated toy hazards, or recalls thereof, included every dive stick ever made. What's a dive stick, you ask? It's a hollow plastic tube (capped at the ends, with a Taiwanese pebble inside to make it slowly sink). You throw 'em into the pool and then it's supposed to be fun to take them out again. YOU KNOW, IT'S LIKE A GAME FOR DOGS, ONLY FOR PEOPLE! Anyway, the stupid government is no fun at all because they're recalling all 19 million dive sticks ever made just because six people were -- and I quote -- "rectally impaled". And now I'm going to make Stacia cry by reminding her of the time they took away her lawn darts, and then I'm going to make Jeremy Reimer cry by explaining that the reason his Battlestar Galactica Cylon Warship's missiles didn't actually fire was that they used to and the government took them away too, because several kids were killed by Cylon missiles. -- K. I'm just sad because I never had any toys that the government took away! I was, however, the only person in the audience who identified with Harold Ramis's claim (in "Ghostbusters II") that "I had PART of a Slinky... but I straightened it." I ruined at least three Slinkies. For you kids out there, in MY day the things were made of spring steel, and Tinkertoys were WOOD!