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