Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: This American Has No Life Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 01:13:32 GMT "swt" (dumplechan@hotmail.com) wrote: > > One day friend from out of town called to ask me what he should visit when > he came here. I told him about the usual things: The Great Salt Lake, > Temple Square, Arches National Park. You know. Good tourist places. He > asked me which was my favorite, and I had to stop for a minute before I > realized: I had never been to any of those places. > > There's the places normal people go, and there's the places tourists go. > Sometimes a tourist trap is an onvious cry for attention. The World's > Tallest Thermometer. The World's First KFC Restaurant. You hear these > names and maybe you imagine a station wagon family, all starting to get on > each others' nerves, and the father saying: "Look, just hold out a little > longer. Play another round of Auto Bingo, because in fifteen minutes we'll > be at the World's Tallest Thermometer, and we can all get out and stretch > our legs." And if I were in the car with them, I'd be passing out Auto Bingo boards that had squares for things like "William Shatner with shoulder-length hair" and "dinosaurs eating naturally-occurring Pop-Tarts" and "nuclear explosion that goes 'ZOWIE!'" Just to ensure the kids get an adequate amount of suffering for it to be a real car trip, I'd also keep pointing out the window and saying "There's where the house that Aunt Edith used to live in was before they moved out and it burned down, before you were born. Back then, hamburgers were a foot in diameter and Coke had real cocaine floating on top of it..." > I decided that I should really know my home town better if I'm going to be > giving my friends tourist advice. So I set aside a weekend to visit my > hometown...as a tourist. I figured I could make good time, since I don't > have to drive anywhere to get here, and I could save on hotel money, because > I could just drive back to my condo. > > [...] > > My first stop is an obvious one: The Great Salt Lake. It's huge, > and it is in fact very salty. It smells terrible. It smells like > the ocean, only...really bad. It smells like a fat shaggy dog that's > just gone swimming in the ocean. I don't even bother to take the > swim trunks out of my bag. Were these the kind with the long arms and legs and the stripes to make them not be identical to the solid red flannel underwear? The government issues such to all the citizens of Utah, right? I'm so out of touch with popular culture that I'm not sure what the current fashion for swimwear is here in Not-Utah. I remember thongs were big a few years ago, but I suspect people must have progressed to something even less like striped long johns by now. Perhaps a sticker or something. A little oval sticker with the words "BATHING SUIT" printed on the front of it, using the sexiest font of the six that were included with their computer. > My first instinct is to get my picture taken in front of it. Some tourists > take photos so they can look at them over and over, and subject their > friends to slide-shows. "Here I am in front of the Sistine Chapel. Here I > am in front of the Grand Canyon." There are also the wives and husbands who take turns posing each other in front of the same landmarks. In Las Vegas, I got to be an expert at photographing Japanese tourists standing in the middle of the road in front of -- gasp! -- palm trees. I photographed Japanese tourists in front of lots of stuff in Las Vegas, but there were a couple who just wanted to be seen in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard in front of the leafy "Gilligan's Island" trees. (That was up towards the Stratosphere, where Las Vegas Boulevard is narrow and has trees down the middle and almost no traffic, not near the Luxor where it's twelve lanes of bumper-to-bumper demolition derbying.) > In my family, we tend toward the opposite pole. Growing up, I could > find undeveloped canisters of film in the kitchen junk drawer. > They covered two years and three different family vacations. > The important thing for us is taking the picture, not looking at it. The > camera is a prop that says: "Hey! This is it! Look around, right now, > remember this, it's what you came for. Savor this moment." The click of > the shutter is like the zen master who hits his student with his staff at > just the right moment, and makes him wake up to the present. Allow me to bean you over the head with a DIGITAL CAMERA. A DIGITAL CAMERA. Then I take a photo of a cue card that says "Without film it runs, photos are free, no developing now, yes." Then I show you the picture on the little screen on the back of the camera and then seconds later it's beamed over spread-spectrum packet radio into my laptop computer so that I can spend the next several years forgetting to post it on my Web site. We may be the last generation to have undeveloped film left to you by previous generations. "Daddy, what was Fotomat?" The movie "Outta Control" will suddenly be the only evidence that Fotomats ever existed, before that terrorist slowly knocked over Saugus's only Fotomat with a forklift. > [...] > Later that afternoon I see a sign on a store that says "Dry cleaning: $2.50 > all garments", with a little asterisk on the word "all". Down below it says > "(most garments)", in a smaller font as though someone is stage-whispering > behind their hand. I get a big kick out of the sign, so I ask a kid on a > scooter to take my picture in front of it. He looks at me like I just > confirmed all his darkest suspicions about adults. But, he takes the > picture. Did you get out your magic marker and add a really tiny asterisk at the bottom which says that "(most garments)" means "[some garments]", and then a microscopic asterisk pointing to "{no garments}"? I'm still sad that my local dry cleaner no longer has the giant plastic sign saying they can clean my "badspread". On the other hand, one of the local cable TV companies (the one that's partly owned by the local electricity monopoly) has a Web site that tells me I can subscribe to their "MegaBand(R) Betwork". I think this means that every channel on my cable TV would show "Shaft". Google says "about 440" pages are known to contain the non-word "betwork", while "about 1,170" pages contain the non-word "medireview". The latter is because some stupid Internet filtering software automatically takes the word "eval" (as in "evaluate this JavaScript expression") out of stuff, resulting in an avalanche of Web pages like these: -> The Medireview weekend features a bearment tournament, armor inspection, -> archery, games and feasting. => Planning a Medireview Wedding? Our e-book How to Create a Beautiful => Medireview Wedding will help you create the wedding of your dreams. -> Based on the medireview French Bouffon traditions, the piece spins -> through life's "rites of passage", illuminating issues of prejudice, -> access and sexuality [...] => If Medireview India has a sheet anchor, there is little doubt => in anyone's mind that it is Irfan Habib. -> As far as eternal perdition was concerned, these medireview artists -> were equal opportunity judges. Not that this has anything to do with Utah. There's nothing medireview about Utah at all. It's a thorougly fabern state. (I can't say "mod" because I might accidentally compute the modulo of a number, and then I'd look stupid if I said "My phone number is 2!" because everyone knows that "2" is Bob Hope's phone number.) > [...] > > Driving home I pass a billboard by the highway. "MORE THAN ONE" it says on > the first line, with some sepia-toned portraits around it. Below it: > "PLURAL MARRIAGE - A SACRED PIONEER HERITAGE". And the URL of a website > promoting some guy's book about polygamy. I'll wager it's "groups dot yahoo dot com slash something". Probably also containing the word "fetish". Oops, I was wrong. If I ask Google for pages that match "plural marriage" plus "medireview", it gives me: -> 11-WHAT WAS THE TREE OF (DIVINE) LIFE? THE SIMBOLISM OF "ONE G-D"? -> [...] they refuse to write again Scriptures in nowadays English, -> that people must understand clearly (remain with Medireview English) -> [...] Pharaoh imposed them absurd laws against religious Laws -> (given by YHV to such true "religion" restored for the "10 tribes -> of Israel") of "freedom", as for plural marriage like in old -> splendid/CIVILIZED/modern/learned Islamic World (other true "farm" -> of YHV) and in Old Testament (as in I Samuel, Ana x Elcana). -> Not all Pharaoh are so Evil. That page isn't on groups.yahoo.com at all. It's on geocities.yahoo.com.br. Groups.yahoo.com is where all the fetish porn on the Internet is. Geocities.yahoo.com is where all the wacky rants are, with the exception of sci.physics (which is still kept open for the people who haven't yet discovered the Web.) Why hasn't the government tried to break up Yahoo's monopoly on fetishism and wackoism? In any case, the sepia-toned photos are a nice touch. But I'm holding out for a billboard that uses a mezzotint to get me to be a swinger. -- K. A groups.yahoo.com search on "plural marriage" reveals six semi-secret plurality clubs, such as: -> ISO-Plural_Families -> To help Mormon single women to find Mormon -> plural families and Mormon plural families -> to find Mormon single women. => pluralmarriage => We collect adds from women (sisterwife) ,widdows => and couples most Germany and Europe, who seeks => a family, Plural Marriage Contact us and placed => your add. I took a closer look at the second one: => Group Info => Members: 0 => Founded: Apr 4, 2002 => Language: German In Germany, it's legal for a group marriage to have zero people. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Electromagic Roadside Imagery Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 01:49:25 GMT Gregory King (greg@flyingpawn.com) wrote: > > On I-84, somewhere in Connecticut, I stopped at a gas station. The first > thing I noticed about the cardmatic gas pump was that the LCD screen that > gave directions was in full color, as opposed to the monochrome ones I am > used to. When I inserted the nozzle and started pumping, I noticed > something even more interesting. The screen started playing a scene from > the TV movie "You're in the Super Bowl, Charlie Brown!", accompanied by > lo-fi audio from the gas pump speaker. When the pump stopped, my screen > stopped as well, but the video kept playing on the adjacent pump, where a > guy was still filling up. I am totally baffled by what sort of value > they think they are providing their consumer. Is there anyone who would > really switch gas stations in order to see 30 seconds from the middle of > a random TV movie? Are we all going to go out and buy large-tanked cars > so that we can watch longer clips? It's worse than that. "You're In The Super Bowl, Charlie Brown" was produced exclusively for sale on videocassette at that chain of gas stations. Really. They expect you to switch gas stations just so you can buy this crudely-animated show made around the time of, and possibly during, the death of Charles Schulz. I like the gas stations that have ads printed on the splash guard of the pump nozzles, so that when you're looking at your hand while you're sticking the nozzle into the car, your hand is obscured by this plastic shield that says "SNICKERS". Ads are everywhere. Also, in other news, Quilted Northern toilet paper is stitched by a roomful of charming grandmothers. > Later on the same road, but in New York, right before a big bridge with > a weird name, I saw one of those helpful overhead dot-matrix signs that > give you traffic information. Except this one said "NO ONE CAN MAKE YOU > FEEL INFERIOR WITHOUT YOUR CONSENT". I didn't understand what the point > of this sign, and that made me feel stupid and useless. Somewhere there is a fortune cookie that says "SLOW CHILDREN". -- K. "HELP I AM BEING HELD PRISONER BY AMERICAN WINKOMATIC." ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Kansas sculpture Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 02:28:25 GMT The Avocado Avenger (stacia@world.std.com) wrote: > > Last Saturday morning I woke up and headed to the porch to open the > door, because the catswarm likes to lay in the sunbeams on the porch on > the weekends. I opened the door and saw a pyramid of beer bottles stacked > right outside my screen door. That's dumb, I thought. You can see > outside clearly; even Mr Magoo would have seen and avoided the beer > sculpture. Duh. Not if he were Leslie Nielsen. He would have knocked it over several times, sometimes in slow-motion, sometimes in fast-motion, and then there would be a screenful of tiny print telling you the movie is not intended as an accurate depiction of the life of blind spastic retards so that the audience can say, "Hey, we thought that movie wasn't funny, but then it said it was politically correct, and now we don't know what to think about this total waste of our time!" Of all the live-action movies which were bad ideas based on old cartoons, I think "Mr. Magoo" was the worst, although it's still possible that Hollywood could top it. They could do a version of everyone's favorite chinless, action-free comic strip, "The Gumps", starring Martin Landau -- the greatest actor ever to have actually drawn "The Gumps". Come to think of it, he's probably the only actor ever to have inked a World War II-era newspaper comic strip. That's not as disturbing as finding out that Julia Child used to work for the CIA, unless she stars in a live-action movie of "Spy vs. Spy" with all the dialogue in Morse code, in which case she'll be more disturbing than a thousand Martin Landaus with their lower jaws digitally removed. Also, you shouldn't let your cats drink so much beer. > [...] > It finally dawned on me that during the night, these sinister glass > artisans had made a pyramid of bottles and then made a racket by smashing > other bottles, hoping someone would come barreling out of the house to > find out what was going on. Then the bottle pyramid would fall on the > steps and make noise. Funny funny funny. The evil people of the world make noise, to trick you into making noise, which causes you to be exactly like them except for the evil. > Perhaps the beer addled their thinking, but in this super futuristic > year of 2002, who goes barreling out of their house at 3 AM just to > investigate a bottle breaking? You stay *in* the house, lest you get > shot, or abducted by Elvis impersonators. Those of us who live in big cities ain't afraid to go out at 3 AM. The streets are deserted then except for a few easy-to-avoid people. It's in the evening when things get scary, because there are thousands of people everywhere, and any one of them could grope you! I speak from experience. > The really funny thing is that these goofballs were possibly risking > their lives - I know some homeowners who would have shot these funloving > pyramid makers without a second thought, because this is Kansas, after > all; we're known as "Upper Texans". (Cut to a revolving hologram of Michael York's head saying slowly, "THERRRRE ISSSSS NOOOOO OOOOOOKLAHOMAAAAAA", and then all the vowels fall off your computer screen and explode, then it gets made into a TV series starring "Gonzo" from "Trapper John, M.D." which is unrelated to either "M*A*S*H" or "The Muppet Show", although it would be cool to see Kermit performing surgery. It's a good thing there is no Oklahoma, otherwise "Oklahoma" could collide with "The M*A*S*H Muppet Show", and Hawkeye and Gonzo would smear mascara on one eyepiece of Frank Burns's binoculars and hide a spring-loaded knife in the other eyepiece. What was wrong with Rogers & Hammerstein? Why did they write this sprightly, upbeat musical with a subplot about eye-stabbing? Or am I confusing it with some other movie about cowboys plotting to poke someone's eye out?) > No, wait - the really funny thing is that I didn't even hear the bottles > being broken. Slept right through it. Funny funny funny. > No, the *really* funny thing is that this passes for entertainment in > Kansas. Well, of course. I mean, Dorothy was all like, "Yay! A tornado blew me out of Kansas, into a land of midgets who have been inhaling helium!" (I know that "little people" is the politically-correct term these days, but that doesn't make them sound as terrifying.) If you think that's bad, you should see what passes for entertainment in the middle of Maine, where there's less action than in the first "Yogi Bear" cartoon -- the folks up there don't even slide back and forth across their back yards towards the two-dimensional pie on the windowsill. They do sometimes slide all the way to the other side of town (fifty feet away) to buy a year-old Hostess Fruit Pie at Bampy's convenience store, assuming a deer doesn't slide into their car or they don't die from inhaling the smell of low tide which pervades the state. I take that back! They don't even go to Bampy's any more. The only evidence of Bampy's on the Web is a newspaper photo of it being demolished: -> Crews from A.L. Daggett Excavation Inc. plowed through the former -> Barker's Garage and gas station on the corner of Routes 17 and 131 -> in Union Wednesday afternoon. Barker's Garage, built in the 1930s, -> went through several identities over the years, including a car -> dealership and, most recently, Bampy's convenience store and gas -> station. Maritime Energy is in the process of building a new -> Maritime Farms store on the site. On hand Wednesday for the -> excavation of the building were John Ware, president of the -> Rockland-based Maritime Energy, and former Barker's Garage -> employee, Frank Austin. In other news, the gas station a block east of my building -- the one that had the sign saying "G A S O L I |/| E" with the backwards "N" -- put up a felt-tip-marker-on-white-paper sign saying "PUMPS TEMPORARILY OUT OF ORDER" six months ago, and it looks like "TEMPORARILY" is going to be a while, because they boarded up all the windows. Maybe they just decided to get out of the gasoline business before everyone switches to solar-powered cars and metric and the XFL. How DOES a gas station not make a profit in a big city like Boston? I can understand why Bampy's died -- it must have served a market of about a dozen people -- but Boston has some families that own two WORKING cars! -- K. I wonder which sentence I'm going to get the most hate mail about. Probably the one where I mock the brilliant career of the zany Leslie Nielsen, who has exactly the same name as the guy who was in all those unfunny movies like "Mr. Magoo" and "2001: A Space Travesty". "Viva Knievel" was funnier! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Kansas sculpture Date: Thu, 18 Jul 2002 06:21:41 GMT The Avocado Avenger (stacia@world.std.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) writes: > > > > Those of us who live in big cities ain't afraid to go out at 3 AM. > > But in big cities you don't have flannel-wearing, gun-toting hicks who > got all liquored up and are just itching to shoot at anything that moves. > Your scary 3 AM things are just bicyclists in capes who never go fast > enough to accidentally behead themselves when they get their cape tangled > in the spokes. Archie used to live in New Hampshire. Now he lives in one of the Dakotas (I think there are at least two of them, it's hard to remember them.) I suspect he never goes near big cities because he's afraid he'll get run over by one of the slightly more studly bicyclists that swarm over the big city all night with their fabulous capes blowing in the big city wind. Truth is, my big city isn't even that exciting. Boston pretty much shuts down after dinner, except for the hookers in the Combat Zone and a few nightclubs and all-night-cardboard-pizza shacks near the college campuses. This is why I visit the Super 88 Supermarket so often, because they're open 'til midnight. That's all there is to do in Boston at night -- hookers or shopping for ramen noodles. Thankfully, we have cable TV and Internet access. I got home early tonight (had to leave work for a meeting), before it was even 11, and was all set to have a long leisurely night watching eleventh-season "Happy Days" reruns (from the doo-wop season) off my TiVo but the maintenance people had come in to dislodge all the filters in the ventilation system, and for no apparent reason they had turned off the lightswitch that controls power to the cable TV box, so the TiVo couldn't change channels all day and it recorded several things that all turned out to be "Dexter's Laboratory" plus one episode of "Captain Planet", although that one was supposed to be "Captain Planet" because I've been watching it at 20x speed every night to increase my resistance to propaganda. Now I can ignore propaganda in 95% less time! Tomorrow I hope to consider attempting to try to make an effort to do my laundry, if they don't fill the entire laundry room with a solid block of isinglass or move the building's basement to underneath a different building on another planet or otherwise keep me from using the washing machines. On the plus side, I have a copy of the magazine "India Today" to read while waiting for someone to let me into the laundry room the next time the door lock trashes my access card. I found the magazine on the bus. It's like "Time" with all the names changed to make everything completely irrelevant to me, and every news story turns into a discussion of movies halfway through, and they have a numbers we don't, like "crore" (which is between a million and a billion) and "lakh" (which is between a thousand and a million.) A crore is a hundred lakhs, and a lakh is a hundred thousand, except that the commas are in the wrong places, so that "1,50,000" is a lakh and a half, and an "arab" is an American billion and a "kharab" is a hundred billion, except that some Web sites say an arab is ten billion and others say it's two hundred million, unless I've got this wrong, which I probably do because it was all specially designed to confuse me, especially because one site says "arab = ten billion = 1000000000", which has to have at least one thing wrong with it, unless they've discovered a third kind of billion smaller than either the American or British ones. Not that it matters, because by the end of the year everyone in the world will be speaking Hamtaro's language. Ookwee! -- K. In the meantime, will someone please explain lakhs and crores and arabs and kharabs to me so that I'll know how much certain Indian movies cost? I already know that a rupee is about three cents, but I don't know if it's one of those weird-shaped square coins or shaped like a normal three-cent piece. Also, my local markets have discontinued my favorite brand of canned kahri, and the other leading brand isn't as good and spells it "kahdi", and I don't know which spelling is right although they definitely taste different. The discontinued canned kahri is one of the few good things to contain lots of asafetida. I don't understand how that's possible, but I'm sad that it's gone. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Major League Deformities: Anemone pitches while Bratwurst bats Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 03:20:10 GMT [Concerning Leah's exciting trip to the boring land of Milwaukee, as featured in the movie "Parts: The Clonus Horror"...] "Lleah" (leahverre@attbi.com) wrote: > > At the last minute on Monday night, our co-worker, who is surely going to > heaven, got us tickets to the home-run derby. For those who don't know, > this is when several of the best hitters in baseball gather together to > compete in a bout of steroid-rage. Once again, the Yankees win. I poop on > them collectively, even though I have a fondness for Joe Torre. He always > looks like he needs to be holding a bottle of Pepto Bismol. > ANYHOWS, our seats were really great, right down the 1st base line. We had > a great view of everything, including the notorious Sausage Runners. > > Now, I've seen a lot of weird mascots before, but the Sausage Runners are > new to me in the area of bizarre. There are four guys who put on giant > heads and pretend to be sausages of various varieties. They then race > around the field between innings and everyone begins to enthusiastically > shout for their favorite to take the win. ie: > "GO HOTDOG!" > "COME ON, BRATWURST!" > "KNOCKWURST! KNOOOOOOOOCKWUUUUUUURST!" > and > "SPICY ITALIAN IS THE BEST!" > > I think the bratwurst won, and I think the hot dog may have collapsed from > the heat. So, when a real human is pitching or hitting, people yell things like "We need a pitcher, not a belly itcher", but when the bratwurst-headed guy is playing, do people just yell "YOU'RE DEFORMED! GO AWAY! STOP SCARING MY UNBORN CHILDREN!"? And speaking of hideous deformities in Major League Baseball brand baseball: After work I often go to the Fenway Star Market. This is not to be confused with the Prudential Star Market (skyscraper on top, insane people playing with the "DIVIDeR-DIVIDeR" bars, mysterious wall of kitties with giant eyes), or the Equilateral Triangle Star Market (which is unremarkable except for what it is), it's the one with the coatroom where all the ethnic foods -- such as spaghetti and rice -- have to stay and it's the one that still has the vending machine that sells "GOOK" instead of the more politically- correct "GOOP" and it bragged about selling a hundred-trillion-dollar lottery ticket because the market is run by people who don't know how zeroes work. I've described all that in detail elsewhere, as you might imagine (because I never fail to describe anything in detail elsewhere.) The ethnic-foods coatroom is separated from the main market by a glass partition, so that in case Chinese communists invade Boston, Star Market can lock the door to allow WASPs access to the granola aisle but forbid anyone who likes EWW CHINESE FOOD EWW from buying canned chow mein. (ANYONE WHO LIKES CHINESE FOOD MUST BE A COMMUNIST, ESPECIALLY IF THEY BUY IT AT STAR MARKET'S INFLATED PRICES!) Oddly, the hundred-trillion-dollar lottery tickets are sold outside the glassed-in room, because they are apparently less of a security risk than La Choy Bi-Packs. This market is very close to Fenway Park -- the antique baseball park that's had a chunk of left field missing since the days when Shirley Temple was cute -- and baseball season has begun. This gave the market an excuse to paint some pictures of cartoon Red Sox players on the glass between the regular foods and the room of ethnicity, so that they wouldn't have to look at the people shopping for spaghetti, some of whom might have dark hair, or worse, mustaches. So, they covered most of the window with attempts at realistic depictions of baseball players executed in signwriter's paint. Of the three or four ballplayers, the most visible one is a pitcher. What follow are my attempts to describe this incredibly abnormal imaginary person throwing baseballs past the pickled peppers. He's all wound up and about to throw, so he has one leg raised in that way you have to do when you throw a baseball really fast. (The ball somehow cares where your leg is. I don't understand the physics of it either, but they do it in the real world, not just in sloppy cartoons inside supermarkets.) He's facing directly towards us, at least judging by the way the part of his shirt that says "RED SOX" is aimed directly towards us, yet for some reason his raised leg crosses in front of him. The heel of his foot is directly in front of his crotch. Because this is a realistic depiction of a Red Sox player, his leg consists of two black lines, with a red line running down the middle. His cleated shoe is attached to the ends of two of those lines. But, hold on a minute! It's not attached to the two black lines! A tiny little shoe connects one of the black lines (representing the forward edge of the raised leg) to the red line (representing his pants seam.) This gives him a two-inch ankle (directly in front of his crotch, remember) and the artist couldn't figure out what to do with the remaining black line, so it just goes down and joins to his butt, in front of his crotch, continuing straight down to make his other leg, which is perfectly straight and eighteen inches thick, as if he has a pedestal instead of any normal means of support, or maybe he's part sea anemone. So, to sum up, one of his legs joins his butt to his butt through the front of his crotch, and his other leg is shaped like a garbage can. Oh, and the giant vertical leg has a little dent in it where it goes around the tiny foot raised in front of it, possibly representing a concave crotch from years of steroid abuse. As a background, the artist painted in a row of green scribbly stuff to represent the nice even grass of the ballfield, except the grass floats just above the bottom of the window, and the pitcher's pedestal club-foot passes in front of the row of grass and beyond it all the way to the bottom of the window, as if the guy's been screwed into the ground. Perhaps his giant foot has clam DNA in it. I wonder how many feet down it goes. And the guy has no sleeves or shoulder joints. His upper arms end in rounded tips that are hovering in front of his shirt. I take that back, he does sort of have part of one sleeve. But I think the artist added that at the last minute just to make the guy more asymmetrical. To top it off, his head defies the laws of perspective and the laws of nature in other ways. Remember when I said his shirt was facing directly towards us? His head is turned so that he's looking slightly to his left, and the "B" on his baseball cap is slightly to the left of center as we would expect, and the brim is also pointing to the left. Except, they colored in the cap before they remembered to draw a brim on it, so the brim extends BACK and to the LEFT, while the "B" is FORWARDS and to the LEFT, a ninety-degree discrepancy. That's one magic ballcap! Maybe there's a second vanishing point hidden behind the grassy knoll, or perhaps Boston University's photonics lab (with the glowing stripe running down the side) has accidentally created a space warp which is distorting space and joining ballplayers' legs together to form something halfway between a Klein bottle and Johnny Tremaine, perhaps related to those weirdly warped pretzels that sink to the bottom of the bag or what happens if you pick up a picture from the funny pages with your Silly Putty before you leave it sitting on the radiator for a week, especially if you accidentally used Gook instead of Silly Putty. (The Gook dispenser didn't quite fit into my photo of this grotesquerie.) Further examination of my photo of this tragic scene reveals that he's standing next to a display of "UGLY RIPES HEIRLOOM TOMATOES". Science has yet to explain the concept of a tomato which is also a heirloom. Teams of linguists are struggling to determine whether "pretty ripe" or "pretty unripe" would be the opposite of "ugly ripe". Massive enhancement of the fine details shows a line of microscopic print explaining everything: "The Tomato that TASTES like a Tomato." Also, it's the tomato that looks more like a human than the pitcher does. -- K. We want a pitcher, not a belly itcher, and certainly not whatever rhyming phrase would describe a guy shaped this way! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: sci.physics,alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: I want more Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 04:08:20 GMT In sci.physics, Kurt Stocklmeir (kurtstocklmeir@worldnet.att.net) wrote: > > This is not an insult to any person. I would like people to stay away from > my articles. Not use my titles. Why? Are we not allowed to say "I want more?" Have you decided that you can use all the words there are, but the rest of us can only use some of them? If you're only giving me some words, then I want more! I WANT MORE! > For a long time people of these physics groups created their own little > sewer. It was up to them. They insulted people and they talked to people > who insulted people. They have gotten what they asked for. Good people > left and good people stay away. People who know a lot about physics stay > away. The slime slime around spreading their slime on slime. That sentence contained four of the word "slime", but there were other words in it too, and the other words weren't any fun. If you worked harder, you could put additional "slime"s in. I WANT MORE! > Dishonest ideits talk to dishonest ideits about junk while they slime > through slime. The dishonest ideits after a small amount of time slime > away covered with more slime. More dishonest ideits slime to the sewer > spreading their slime and waste products through the sewer. The slime > have absorbed so much slime and waste products they can not have sex > to create more slime for the sewer. Sure, most people think sex is at least sort of kind of dirty, but only you would find a way to work an image of Ed Norton cleaning a sewer into your kinky sex fantasies. ART CARNEY IS NOT AS EROTIC AS YOU THINK! But don't stop telling us about how sex works. I enjoy your sex talks. I WANT MORE! > If people want to be dishonest it is up to them. But when they get what > they ask for they can only blame themselves. What I have been talking > about spreads to all the things that they do and all the things that their > families do. The slimes of these physics groups got what they wanted. I must not be slime, because I didn't get everything I wanted. I want more! > My articles are not part of these physics groups. I do not read articles > of these physics groups and I would like people to stay away from my > articles. It's hard to stay away when you give them all the same subject line, whether they're about you pinching women's fannies or girl lizards turning you down for sex. After I read the first one, I was hooked, and the fact that you always use the same subject line makes it easy for me to look for them. I love your articles titled "I WANT MORE", and that's why I WANT MORE! > If a person does some thing dishonest they will get back many times what > they do. That's not enough. I WANT MORE! > Any person who associates with dishonest people is dishonest. God will > probably > punish them. I don't want more of that. God spanks a little too hard, and She won't tell me what the vowels in the safeword are. NO MORE! NO MAS! NO MORE GOD-SPANK! But as far as you telling us about being stalked by imaginary space lizard temptresses who plan to overthrow society by not allowing you to grope their butts, I WANT MORE! Whenever there's an episode of "The Simpsons" where Homer doesn't go to the bar, I WANT MOE! To restock the radiation-proof pouches of dessicated food rations in my fallout shelter, I WANT MRE! I love Sean Connery as James Bond, but after I've seen the one with George Lazenby, I WANT MOORE! In order for the psychedelic swirls on Mr. Spock's science computer to shimmer as hypnotically as possible, I WANT MOIRE! If I were a Girl Scout and couldn't get my cooking merit badge because I couldn't remember how to combine a marshmallow with a graham cracker, I'd cry, I WANT SMORE! When I desire to see a slasher movie where a tightly-wound Presidential candidate loses an election, snaps, and slices people up with a chainsaw, I WANT GORE! If my entire skin was defective in that it had no tiny holes in it so that I was in danger of having one giant zit covering my whole body, I'd say, I WANT PORE! If was hankering to fill my apartment with the scent of puffballs, I'd say, I WANT SPORE! When I'm looking for pitchblende, galena, or bauxite, I WANT ORE! In any case, whether we're discussing Lazenby, bauxite, or girl lizards, I WANT MORE! -- K. "Bauxite... is a dirtyite." -- Shelly Bermanite ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,sci.physics From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: I want more Date: Thu, 18 Jul 2002 07:02:12 GMT Joe Manfre (manfre@world.std.com) wrote: > > James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > In sci.physics, Kurt Stocklmeir (kurtstocklmeir@worldnet.att.net) wrote: > > > > > > This is not an insult to any person. I would like people to stay > > > away from my articles. Not use my titles. > > > > Why? Are we not allowed to say "I want more?" Have you decided that > > you can use all the words there are, but the rest of us can only use > > some of them? If you're only giving me some words, then I want more! > > > > I WANT MORE! > > I know what I want, > and I want it now! > I WANT MORE! > 'cause I'm Mr. Slime! I was going to compose a new verse of "Oompa, Loompa, Doompa-Dee-Doo!" just for you, but I can't because that darn dancing hamster music from the "Hamtaro" Web site is running through my head and I can't get it out and I don't even like "Hamtaro" all that much, even though I'm fully aware "Hamtaro" will dominate all world media by Christmas. You've been warned. Also, before I could get halfway through the first "Doompa-Dee-Doo!" my local ice cream truck would drive up and yell "AYLO!" just to ruin the mood, and people would sneak into my apartment just to flip the special lightswitch that would make my TV show "Hamtaro" all day. So instead I'll just recite the lyrics to a Marilyn Manson song while stock footage from "Un Chien Andalou" is shown behind me: "There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going. There's no knowing where we're rowing Or which way the river's flowing. Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a blowing? Not a speck of light is showing so the danger must be growing. Are the fires of hell a glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing? Yes! The danger must be growing For the rowers keep on rowing. And they're certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing! STOP THE BOAT!" -- copyright 1971 Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse, who stole that whole song from Marilyn Manson! Leslie Bricusse is also known for writing the words to the charming John Williams love theme from "Superman" which is beamed into my office window from the video store across the street, distant enough that I can't hear any of the lyrics except Margot Kidder's final line, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" I'm going to keep complaining about that until they get a less annoying movie to play all day every day, like maybe something with Marilyn Manson driving an ice cream truck while Captain Planet and Hamtaro compete to see who has the squeakiest voice. But hopefully less annoying than that too. Maybe only as annoying as half an Oompa-Loompa. (I hope it's the top half.) In any case, it would be nice to work in a psychotic candy factory as long as it didn't have any windows facing that video store. -- K. And just behind that building is the headquarters of Red Cab, which has a logo nobody has ever been able to explain to me! Why does Massachusetts have a red clown nose and a dotted bottom? ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Children in metallic makeup??? Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 05:29:33 GMT In alt.art.bodypainting, someone asked: > > I heard about a website that showed young people or kids, > children in metallic body makeup of gold & silver > wearing metallic costumes. > > Anyone know where this site is if and it's url, etc. > and if it does exist?? Oh no! Pedophilia is colliding with skin suffocation to create the ultimate perversion! The Internet is ruined! -- K. We need a word for "pedophilia plus gold bodypaint." On second thought, no we don't. Also, do DVDs of "The Simpsons" count? Please let me know if I should burn mine. I wish they'd issue a new version where they've washed all the yellow paint off those kids. And can they digitally enhance Homer to make him not so stupid? I don't have one of those really fancy DVD players that does that automatically. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: An exotic food mystery solved: What I ate was... poison! Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 06:35:21 GMT Today, at the Japanese supermarket, in addition to my occasional purchase of magenta and green pickles, I picked a packet of pickled perilla, and I ate the whole thing before finding out that yes, indeed, perilla is poison. Fortunately these were just pickled perilla blossoms, and they seemed to be actually edible. (I'm told cows won't eat wild perilla, and Asian workers who harvest perilla often get dermatitis from it.) These pickled perilla blossoms (which the package called "perilla seeds") were little dark green dots, slightly smaller than peppercorns, shaped like miniature candy apples wrapped in tissue paper -- in other words, there were tiny spheres with little form-fitting ghost shrouds. Like all Japanese pickle pouches, artificial color was added (to make everything greener) and, oddly, "artificial flavor" was also in the ingredients. What is artificial perilla flavor? In any case, like most Japanese pickles, they tasted like salt, ginger, salt, soy sauce, salt, and much more salt. They were more bitter than the average pickled cucumber/radish/eggplant/burdock, sort of spinachy. My previous encounter with perilla was at the same Japanese grocery store. I made the mistake of buying a handful of pretty green leaves that were marked: BEEF LEAVES You know, those leaves that grow on cows. I took a little bite of one and my mouth started to go tingly-numb so I figured they were one of those things that's poisonous to anyone who's not Japanese, like fugu sushi. For a while, I wondered what Beef Leaves were. I noticed "beefsteak plant" in the ingredients of lots of pickles and sushi and so on, which must have been the same thing. I assumed these were the leaves of a beefsteak tomato plant, which is what they looked like, and I know that tomato leaves are poisonous ("Mmm, nightshadey!") so I figured those could be the tingly leaves. But beefsteak plant turns out to be perilla, which is a little weed with big leaves and tiny flowers that get pickled. And it is indeed poisonous. POISONOUS! AND I ATE A WHOLE BUNCH OF PICKLED PERILLA BLOSSOMS TODAY! I'm assuming it's okay, because I'm still alive, and I'm not even turning Japanese. The pickled perilla buds were okay (if you like too much salt plus some bitter), but if you ever see "beef leaves", aka "beefsteak plant", aka "perilla", aka "ohba", run away screaming -- the stuff zaps your mouth more effectively than haw flakes. (More expensively, too, as you can usually get several hundred scar-pink haw flake poker chips at Chinese grocery stores for a dollar or two, while anything from the Japanese store will cost extra because the store doesn't smell like mildew. I think this is because the Japanese have discovered frozen food and eliminated most of the shrivelled, dried, moldy stuff.) I also bought some soup that comes with little crackers with pictures of hamsters printed on them. The soup comes in tater and corn flavors, because apparently hamsters don't like flavor in their soup. Any soup that needs crackers is wimpy. Real soup doesn't need you to add other foods to it before you can tolerate it. I figure that soon Campbell's, makers of the most watery barely-nutritious soup on the planet, will be suggesting that you should add a steak to every can of their soup. I haven't eaten the hamster soup yet. I'm saving it to eat during the TV show it advertises so that I can experience the full multimedia synergy of having cuddly little cartoon hamsters in my eyes and ears and mouth all at the same time. -- K. You can see the hamster in question dancing at www.hamtaro.com. A Web site with a dancing hamster? I've never seen THAT before! In Japanese hamster language, "goodbye" is "bye-Q", which I predict we'll all soon be sick of seeing people typing. "Hablah!" is hamsterspeak for "Shazbot!" ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: New use for sidewalk chalk Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 08:48:51 GMT Mercutio Jones (kokouberchimp@hotmail.com) wrote: > > My little white dog rolled in green sidewalk chalk my kids had been drawing > with and now he looks like he came from the Emerald City. We tried to wash > it off, but he's still green. If you then took him for a walk and he left green footprints all over the neighborhood, it would be an amazing combination of "The Family Circus" and "Marmaduke", especially if your dog was bigger, and it would be even more swell if your dog was drawn in the style of Ernie Bushmiller's "Nancy" and the dog said "WOUF!" like the dog in "Tintin" but he did it in the fancy font the Deacon used in "Pogo". The only thing wrong with that is that Hollywood will make a live-action movie out of it. Probably starring Brad Dourif, Andy Dick, Tim Thomerson, the late Skip Stephenson, the gay robot head from "Lexx", and the "Okey And Dokey" puppets that killed time between Sid & Marty Krofft reruns on The Family Channel. Plus Janeane Garofalo or any of the various substitutes for her. It will be co-directed by Allan Parker, Ken Russell, and Peter Greenaway. Peter Funt will be brought in to direct the bloopers for the closing credits. Of course, if I directed the same movie, I'd make it not suck. But the actors might be a bit upset that they only got to be in the first five minutes, until the late Skip Stephenson said "Hey, I can't remember whether Erma Bombeck is alive or dead," and Brad Dourif yelled "TO THE LIBRARY!" and they all got into a clown car and drove to the library which was crushed by a meteor, killing them all (even the late Skip Stephenson) and then the next two hours would be stock footage from "Battlestar Galactica" but little Laser Tag guns would pop out of the armrests of all the theater seats so you could shoot at the stock footage to win fabulous prizes. And your dog can have a cameo! We'll digitally insert him in one of the little windows of the "Battlestar Galactica" ships with a little caption at the bottom of the screen, "DON'T SHOOT THIS SHIP, IT CONTAINS THE DOG THAT INSPIRED THIS MOVIE" and if anyone tried to fire a gun during that scene it would backfire and squirt them in the eye with artificial popcorn butter. Plus it would be the best butter. The reason people would go see this movie is that it would have its own special blend of gourmet butter which would only be served during this one movie, and then the recipe would be destroyed forever, so people would flock to the theater just to get the wonderful butter on their artificial popcorn. And there wouldn't be any boring trailers before the movie, just a ten-minute-long scene of me telling the camera how great it is that there aren't any boring trailers. I also have a sure-fire gimmick to ensure that everyone would stay all the way to the end of the movie: After the house lights come on, one randomly-chosen seat would electrocute its occupant! People would stay just to see that! Assuming I remembered to tell them. Tickets would be discounted to $5 if you agree that it's okay for me not to remember to tell you the secret that could kill you, otherwise they'd be the regular admission price, $333. And I call this movie... "THE COUNTRY BEAR JAMBOREE"! -- K. Unless someone else decides to make a movie with a similar title, in which case, I'll just use the working title, "Supercrud". ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: Bruising danger level: EXTREME. Return to your homes immediately. Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 08:58:04 GMT "Eb Oesch" (ericboesch@hotmail.com) wrote: > > Carefully separate each banana, and lay them individually on their > sides on a sheet of bubble wrap (preferably quarter-inch bubble size, > although one-inch is preferred during shipping) in a dry, cool, > well-ventilated area, such as the Smithsonian archives building. Then > wait for further instructions. Is that the Smithsonian Institution or the Smithsonian Institute? I'm assuming the latter, which is where they filmed the movie "Raiders Of The Lost Ark". Not just the final scene, but the whole movie. Lucas and Spielberg were so sure the film would be a classic that they got excited and donated all the sets before remembering they needed to film the movie, so they had to hold all the Nazi shoot-outs in the Smithsonian Institute. Most of the actors are still in there, although at least the curators keep them in a climate-controlled environment and re-varnish them every year. (They seem to like that.) Why is it that the only company that makes all the Bubble Wrap(R) in the world (Sealed Air Corporation) doesn't make custom bubble wrap with advertisements on it? All the little hexagons could be joined together to make company logos or messages, and people would stare at them for hours as they are hypnotized into popping all the bubbles. Of course, on a hex grid, they'd have to use the same sorts of fonts that Klingons use, but that would be a small price to pay for Bubble Wrap that says "BRING THIS WRAP, WITH ALL BUBBLES POPPED, TO CHUCK E. CHEESE AND GET 50% OFF YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY PARTY! VOID IF BUBBLES ARE MECHANICALLY POPPED." Also, at Chuck E. Cheese, instead of a pit of balls, they'd have a pit of bubble wrap. And all the little bubbles would be filled with artificial tomato and cheese vapor to make the restaurant smell like it had food in it, instead of that stuff they serve. -- K. Recipe from the cafeteria at the Smithsonian's National Museum Of Hexagons: A hexagonal puff-pastry shell filled with a mixture of pureed hexagonal oyster crackers and whipped bubble wrap, served enclosed in that weird aluminum foil with hexagons printed on the inside that all museum cafeterias use. Little Debbie could manufacture those entrees, as well as the varnish they'd repaint on Harrison Ford every year. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: to the dump, to the dump, to the dump, dump, dump! Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 09:22:36 GMT Tamara (tamaraharris@sprint.ca) wrote: > > Garbage strikes are just SO much fun! > > The kind people of Toronto have set up several makeshift dumps, mainly in > local parks, where people can cart their garbage to. The maggot population > is exploding and we are sure gonna have a hell of a lot of flies in a few > days. Yesterday, my mother was complaining that the 5 big green garbage > bags she had collected were really starting to stink so I convinced my > sister that we should haul them off to Christie Pits, the local designated > makeshift dump. OH NO! NOW TORONTO HAS FIVE GARBAGE BAGS IN IT! CANADA IS RUINED! > Stephanie agreed. As long as *she* didn't have to actually > haul the garbage, she would drive me there. Okay. We lined the trunk of > her car and I armed myself with a can of Lysol and we set off on our > adventure. I lugged the bags out from my mom's shed (MAN DID IT EVER REEK > IN THERE!) and dragged them out to the car. First of all, the bags leaked > on me. Lovely. My mom swore that the trash was triple-bagged. Well by the > time I got all of the bags into the car, *I* smelled like rotting garbage. > I sprayed myself with Eau d'Lysol and off we went. We arrived at Christie > Pits, an old gravel pit-turned-into-a-park where I spent many days as a > child, and saw HEAPS of trash. When it's taller than the CN Tower, we'll see if they'll let me visit it. "I'm sorry, sir, we're forbidding you from climbing to the top of the pile of rotting filth because you look like a terrorist. Go visit a museum instead. This week, we have TWO that aren't on strike!" If Canada's such a socialist paradise, how come everyone's always on strike? Do we need to send Ronald Reagan up there to fire everyone so there will be no more strikes? The only people who still strike in the United States are airline pilots and scriptwriters, and usually it doesn't really matter, although it did lead to that "Star Trek: The Next Generation" episode where the plot was that Mr. Data got to meet Joe Piscopo. > As I said, we had 5 bags of garbage. I would have to cart these > down the hill to the designated dumping area. Steph only had to pop > the latch on the trunk of the car. This was gonna be ugly and I was > already covered in garbage leak. That reminds me, I'd really like to get an old VHS tape of "The Garbage Pail Kids Movie". I've always heard how atrocious it is, and I've always wondered how much of people complaining about it was due to it being a bad movie versus people who were just horrified that a kids' movie featured the concept of grossness. It was only released on home video for a short while many years ago, it's never been distributed in any form (or shown on TV) since, to the best of my knowledge, and old tapes tend to sell for high prices. So, who's got one I can have for free? I'll trade a copy of "Corey Haim: Me, Myself, And I" AND a bootleg of "Outta Control". > She said "get them out of the trunk quickly! I can't stand the smell!" > so I hauled them out and placed them at the curb -- looking WAY down > the hill where they had to be deposited. Knowing full well that the > police were fining people for illegal dumping, I panicked when I was > stopped by this one guy who yelled at me "where do you think you're > going with that??" > > "Um...over there?" > > (he smiled) > > "Let me take it for you." > > "What??" > > "Here, I'll take it there for you!" > > I almost hugged him when I said "Oh man, I love you!" > > He laughed. Seeing garbage is such a rare event in Canada that some people are delighted. It's like how people get all happy-wacko when there's a quarter-inch of snow in a warm climate. "YAY!SNOWSNOWSNOWSNOW!!!" This guy was probably deliriously happy to get the rare opportunity to touch garbage. Here in the United States, we're used to garbage, so we're pretty blase' about it. We don't even find the concept of The Man From Glad entertaining any more. I'm not sure where he's gone. Either he's making his way to Canada with his jetpack, or else he's taken a job at a gay-rights organization. > We then drove back to my mom's house and all the while my sister griped that > I really needed to shower immediately. We arrived and my mom commented > "that was quick!" and Stephanie sighed and said "Tammy always wins." And then you went to take a shower but there was a shower strike so you had to take a bath instead! Such is Canada. I hear that this month, all the vowels in Saskatchewan are on strike, and in Quebec, the color brown is on strike. But I think some of the other provinces still have some services. Like, in Alberta, the West Edmonton Mall is not on strike, although its parking lot and its doors are. But if you're already inside, you'll be fine, you'll be able to buy everything you need to survive, unless money goes on strike. -- K. The loon wants to be on the two-dollar coin now, but wants to retain right to approve who gets to be on the one-dollar coin, to make sure they can't put Red Green on it. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: nonsense Date: Wed, 17 Jul 2002 09:49:08 GMT "Skelley" (skelley@diff.nl) wrote: > > Pah, this is all nonsense and I never saw this newsgroup before, > so I can tell. "Pah"? What's "Pah"? Did the German Band lose the middle third of their only song? Are they marching around going "OOM-PAUSE-PAH, OOM-PAUSE-PAH"? I hope not, because if they are, someone's going to hear them and record that song for use in that ice cream truck that won't leave me alone. Also, if Holland is so proud of M.C. Escher, why aren't all the buildings in Amsterdam shaped like the ones in his paintings? Belgium has more Escher-shaped buildings than Amsterdam! There's something wrong with that! I've ordered a used copy of the Dutch action movie "Amsterdamned", which has the coolest title possible for any action movie made in Amsterdam. They couldn't do that in Belgium: "Belgiumpire" could be a wacky comedy about baseball and possibly vampires, and "Brusseltzer" could be a movie about clowns squirting stuff at other clowns, but there's no good title for a Belgian action movie, especially not if Jean-Claude Van Damme is in it. Other countries that make good action movie titles: "Canadynamite", "Mexiconspiracy", "Australiattack", and "AmerikaBOOM!" But none of those is as good a title as "Amsterdamned", although they're better than the version for children, "Hamsterdamned". According to IMDB.com: -> -> Plot summary for "Amsterdamned": -> -> A mysterious diver hiding in Amsterdam's canal system embarks -> on a rampage of gruesome murders, terrifying city officials and -> leaving few clues for the city's best detective, who doesn't suspect -> that both his new girlfriend and twelve-year-old daughter may be -> closer than he is to finding the killer. I can't wait to find out if the twelve-year-old can outwit the scary scuba diver. Here in the U.S., we don't have any large canal systems for scary scuba divers to pop out of. That is why O.J. Simpson is very sad. I hope that when I get the cassette, the movie is better than that one where Andy Kaufman played the psychotic policeman who ruined New York City's Saint Patrick's Day parade. I liked that scene, but the rest of the movie really needed a scary scuba diver, or a hamster, or even some oom-pah-pah music. It wasn't a Dutch movie, which is probably part of the reason it was boring. If it had been Dutch, I could have entertained myself during the slow parts by looking closely at the people in the background to try to guess whether they were smoking cigarettes or doobies. And every once in a while someone would be walking down the street naked, or Peter Davison would be running around with green Rice Krispies glued to his face. -- K. Darn it, now I have the theme song from "Hamsterdamned" playing in my head over and over, even though it doesn't exist! ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: INSTANT REVIEW: The Euro coins Date: Thu, 18 Jul 2002 07:57:04 GMT Yesterday, I wrote: > > Recipe from the cafeteria at the Smithsonian's National > Museum Of Hexagons: A hexagonal puff-pastry shell filled with a > mixture of pureed hexagonal oyster crackers and whipped bubble wrap, > served enclosed in that weird aluminum foil with hexagons > printed on the inside that all museum cafeterias use. Today, Matt McIrvin (mmcirvin@world.std.com) wrote: > > [regarding France's newfangled Euro coins] > > The tree on the big hexagon has a strangely diatomaceous appearance. > If you read French news magazines (or at least if you do this in the > 1980s, which is the last time that I did) you will read lots of pundits > fretting about whether or not some policy or attitude is truly > "hexagonale" because at some point the hexagon became the official > shape of France, due to its borders being vaguely kind of hexagonal if > your eyesight is not very good. I do not know whether the departements > d'outre-mer count as suffisament hexagonale. Maybe only for purposes > of fishing rights. I have had a startling vision of crystal clarity: The French have already taken over the Smithsonian, meaning they now control most of the buildings in Washington D.C. Soon, the Pentagon will be full of hexagons, and squadrons of French hexagons will march on the Midwest, and by the end of the year they'll take over America, and then Microsoft, and then McDonalds, and McDonalds will serve green hexagonal meat patties made from imitation frog legs. They'll also have deep-fried six-sided snails, called "hexcargot", and all the packets of McDonalds Fancy Ketchup will be removed to keep Lucille Ball from putting ketchup on her hexcargot. And America's national sports, football and baseball and bowling, will be replaced by games of Mousetrap, the game that features a hexagonal stop sign that powers an elaborate chain reaction where the only excitement is worrying whether or not the flimsy plastic gizmo will misfire for the eighth time. I'm not sure what this means for the episode of "Far Out Space Nuts" where Chuck McCann and Gilligan fiddled with lots of dodecahedra that they kept claiming were hexagons. I suppose it depends on how the French feel about that show -- would they love it for its brilliant wit, or would they love it for its great drama? -- K. The hexagon is an evil shape, because it's the opposite of the blessagon. -> Thanks to Cydonia which directly MENTIONS -> it (giving via "Diagram units" the first 7 digits of NA, EA, etc.). -> For believers (as Prof. Reaumur was): It would seem that the bees really -> were "created" or genetically designed to produce: -> A) Honey; B) Hexagonal cells in remembrance of cosmogonic hexagon of -> Mars; C) Rhombic domes for maximum capacity of honey (Reaumur-Koenig -> discovery from around 1712 to 1739); D) Encrypted (in bee-rhombuses) the -> 'decimal' number 62222... which stands for 'compulsory use of base-10' in -> the whole solar system (even in animal kingdom), while recalling again the -> ancient Supreme civilizations in Mars (cosmogonic "6") and in Jovian-moons -> (cosmogonic "222.."); E) Painful sting (as defense and warning !); F) Etc. -- Angel Garcia (sci.physics, 1997) ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: reproductions of kibologists Date: Fri, 19 Jul 2002 09:10:16 GMT Glenn Knickerbocker (NotR@bestweb.net) wrote: > > By the cafeteria yesterday, I saw a large crate with an intriguing > pink-on-navy design on it which, on closer inspection, turned out to be a > palm-tree-styled logo for: > > S W T > > S T E N C I L I N G I didn't know there were companies that did Just Stenciling. I suppose they'll tell you to go away if you ask for vinyl sticky letters or some other sort of sign. "Don't you dare come to us unless you want your business advertised with lots of letters with gaps in them!" What sort of stenciling equipment would fill a large crate? Do they put the lines on football fields by uncrating a giant rolled-up plastic thing shaped like a football field with slots in it? Or maybe it's a roll of plastic six inches with and a thousand miles long with dashes cut in it so they can stencil the dotted line along the highway from there to Schenectady. And the big question is, was this logo stenciled on the crate, or just doodled on with a ballpoint pen? -- K. "I drawed it on the crate wif Mommy's pyptic stencil!" -- today Kibo is being assisted by Little Billy. Now, Little Billy will follow the dotted line to Schenectady. Bye, Little Billy! Tomorrow Kibo will be assisted by one of the characters from "B.C.", either Jesus or The Fat Broad. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Be still my beating heart! Puppets plus violence! Date: Fri, 19 Jul 2002 09:47:53 GMT Last month, Gerry Anderson said he was going to make a "Captain Scarlet" movie instead of a "Thunderbirds" movie because George Harrison was sitting on the rights to "Thunderbirds". That apparently got George Harrison's attention because today it was announced his company is going to make a "Thunderbirds" movie. So we may well get not just one, but two, two, TWO live-action movies based on old TV shows about marionettes blowing up model cityscapes! YAY! Except for the "live-action" part. "Thunderbirds" and "Captain Scarlet" won't be a tenth as entertaining without strings holding up the actors' heads. On the other hand, Jonathan Frakes (as seen on "Star Trek: The Next Generation") will be directing the "Thunderbirds" movie, so maybe at least Brent Spiner, Wil Wheaton, and Patrick Stewart will play the wacky puppet people, if they can find a way to their heads to the proper size without killing them. ("Captain Scarlet" had marionettes that looked normal, "Thunderbirds" had an all-hydrocephalic cast.) I figure only about a quarter of the budget will have to be spent on massive botox injections to make sure none of the actors can move their lips, and the rest can be spent on packing Styrofoam into their heads to swell them to the correct size. Of course, this would result in permanent deformities, but if people are buying those "Twisted Whiskers" greeting cards, they'd love a bobble-headed Patrick Stewart. The best part is, that "Captain Scarlet" was already remade as a live-action TV show once, titled "U.F.O." That show only lasted one season, but they revived it a few years later with Martin Landau, as "Space: 1999". So I suggest that we all write our local movie theaters and tell them that we promise to see the "Captain Scarlet" movie ten times even if it sucks, so that they'll start budgeting the sequels right away to guarantee there will be a "Space: 1999" movie. Maybe eventually they'll get around to doing a "Terrahawks" movie if they can find someone to be a live-action version of the Barbara Bain puppet. I'm not sure that's possible, but in any case, hooray for the idea of a "Thunderbirds" movie and a "Captain Scarlet" movie. This damn well better make up for those two different "Battlestar Galactica" movies they were going to make and didn't! I want to see dueling revivals of old TV shows. If they don't do two movies about marionettes blowing up models, they should at least do two competing movies about "Lancelot Link: Secret Chimp". -- K. P.S. Once again, Patrick Stewart did NOT come to my birthday party. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: The practice of medicine Date: Fri, 19 Jul 2002 10:04:42 GMT Paula (mmmtoblerone@earthlink.net) wrote: > > Mimi just told me that she could not take a nap because she has to go to > work instead. This was after trying other dodges. She also told me > that she cannot wear her tiara until she leaves work because her work > allows her to wear tiaras when they go home, but they have to wear their > doctor thingies (pointing to the stethoscope) without a tiara while they > are working. She's the Wonder Woman of medicine! Unlike Barbara Bain, who was just the Barbara Bain of medicine. Just be careful that bees don't try to eat her head, and watch out for that bald guy in the formal cape-and-diaper combo. Also, you should look into Mimi's eye to make sure there aren't any animals hiding in there. > Is this true? Would you be more or less likely to go to a female doctor > who wore a tiara in the examining room? I depends. If she's a doctor who was also Miss America, I'd definitely go, especially if she demonstrated lots of exercises I should do. Besides, men doctors wear the male equivalent of a tiara, which is an elastic band with a doughnut-shaped reflector that they can use as an eyepatch when they're playing pirates. However, none of them wear the male equivalent of high heels, which would be several electrified railroad spikes driven into their spine for no reason. Except for Dr. McCoy, who did wear high heels, because it was in the future, when men were more in touch with their feminine sides so both sexes had to wear painful footwear. -- K. Someday I should try to go a whole thirty minutes without mentioning anything I learned from my sixteen-disc "Space: 1999" boxed set. ----------------------------------------------------- Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology From: James "Kibo" Parry (kibo@world.std.com) Subject: Re: TV Guide's 50 Worst Shows Evah Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2002 01:47:12 GMT Matt McIrvin (mmcirvin@world.std.com) wrote: > > Joe Manfre (manfre@world.std.com) wrote: > > > > I'm not sure if my childhood response was more or less dumb than yours > > -- I used to wonder how they managed to get a live audience to watch > > "The Flintstones" and laugh at it when obviously it wasn't made with > > actual people being filmed on an actual set. > > When I was *much* younger, the Flintstones were the first things on > TV that I ever learned were not real. My parents had a hard time > convincing me at first. Matt, I hate to break it to you, but "The Flintstones" _is_ real. See, the name of the show is printed right here in "TV Guide", I'm not making it up. Now, "Doctor Who Meets H.R. Pufnstuf" starring Brian Blessed as The Doctor and Lenny Bruce as Pufnstuf, that's _not_ real. I made it up. It's from the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. And the Neighborhood of Make-Believe _is_ real is real because it's connected to those trolley tracks that go to Mr. Rogers's living room and it's not possible for one end of the tracks to be real and the other to be imaginary, or the trolley would derail halfway along, killing dozens of innocent people and imaginary people at the same time. However, although "The Flintstones" is real, their nutritional value isn't. Just because there are "Flintstones" vitamins doesn't mean "The Flintstones" is in any way good for you, or good for anyone, or good. I suspect I'd like "The Flintstones" better if it wasn't real. -- K. Phil Hartman could be Fred, and Vlad The Impaler could be Dino. No, wait, Andy Warhol could be Fred, and Wilma could be R2-D2.