Category: News

INTERNET–The perennially fag-obsessed Westboro Baptists have, once again, posed as members of Anonymous–this time releasing their own personal information. While the media sings praise for the vigilante work of Anonymous, Fred Phelps sips bourbon. The stock of his church has gone up, yet again, as the media transfers their attention from the recent school shooting onto a religion designed specifically for the purpose of receiving negative attention. As fucking always.

[pullquote]”Anyone can be Anonymous”[/pullquote]Phelp’s church, plugging each tragedy into a one-size-fits-all protest scheme, has threatened to picket the sacred shooting grounds, which of course will deepen the truly authentic pain these families are dealing with in a profound way that of course has [everything, nothing] to do with religion.

[pullquote]”That little robot woman was as guilty as the man who had married Masson, or as Marie, who wanted me to marry her.” ~ Meursault[/pullquote]So, my friendly internet friends. I’m sitting here, interacting with a keyboard and a monitor, and I wonder if Westboro Baptist isn’t right about something. Religion is the fucking problem. Not gun control. Not lack of gun control. Religion.

We are blinded by that religion called blame. Too many guns. Not enough guns. Mental Illness. A single evil man. Not enough mental health care. These are only the effects of the shooting–the babble of confusion afterwards as we collectively try to rationalize our guilt. These are our rainbow-colored Westboro signs proclaiming what it is God must Hate.

We must not admit something about our culture of alienation is very sick; in fact it is the most disturbing taboo. Anything but us. Please. Blame anyone–or preferably any thing–but us.

NEW YORK–Wednesday Paul McCartney and Nirvana announced upcoming tour dates at the 12-12-12 benefit concert for victims of the oncoming Mayan Apocalypse. McCartney, who is rumored to have died in 1968, peeled off a mask to reveal he is an older version of Kurt Cobain. Angstrom H. Troubador, theoretical physicist, said that time reversals and weirdness have escalated to near critical mass. “These are indeed the endtimes. You may notice sporadic time reversals in the upcoming week. Only the Mayans Epopts know what will come next.”

Approximately 2 billion people around the world tuned in to the 12-12-12 concert, exposing themselves to precisely 12 minutes of crying victims of the oncoming Mayan Apocalypse. Several famous comedians read terribly unfunny scripts and embarrassed themselves badly. Kanye West, dressed in a garbage bag skirt, rapped to a beat which sampled King Crimson, tearing through fifteen songs in less than 8 minutes. Privileged white people pumped their fists calmly in their seats. The 68 year-old Roger Daltrey ripped his shirt off as The Who played along to a video vocal track performed by the late Keith Moon.

Mathematician Stephen Smale has discovered how to turn quantum spheres inside out using the discovery of the Higgs Boson. This has enabled wormhole tests at the secret military base in Montauk Sound.

Fox News blared from the flatscreen as Bill O’Reilly’s visage reflected off the shining simulacra. Stunned and immersed by this Disneyland fantasy, I could hardly decide what to order. “Can I get the double-decker taco with the loco taco shell?” The cashier was completely lost in his smartphone and muttered something in response without making eye contact. I waited until his glazed eyes fell on the register and repeated myself. “Can you guys make double-decker tacos with the loco shells?”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not on the menu. We can’t do that. There’s no way to ring it up,” he mumbled. So I ordered a pan pizza. The cashier rattled off an inaudible string of annoying questions like some kind of a machine. Cash in hand, I stared blankly at him. “Sorry, I have to say that stuff or they’ll fire me. They send in the fake customers sometimes to make sure.” Embarrassed at being forced into such a contrived excuse for service, he made change and returned his blank stare to the smartphone.

The pan pizza was not ready for over 20 minutes and during this time a ghoulish employee stalked back and forth across the dining room, eyeing customers with a hateful scowl. Highly uncomfortable, I approached the kitchen to inquire about my order. Another cashier was ready and waiting. “What would you like to order?”

“Um, sorry, no. I’m just waiting on my pizza.” With a condescending “Thank you,” another employee slammed the tray of lukewarm pizza and bread sticks onto the counter without making eye contact. According to the timestamps on the boxes, it had been ready for fifteen minutes. I could have demanded a fresh pizza, but I felt the oppressive stare from the dining room employee pacing behind me.

I might have eaten the pizza too fast, but either way it immediately made me sick. On the way home, I considered pulling off the road to vomit, but I didn’t want the six bucks to go to waste. Maybe all the old employees got new jobs somewhere else when they were rebuilding the place. Maybe some new training program backfired. The only one employee who consistently made eye contact was that intimidating demon, stalking around the dining room and wiping off tables mere seconds after customers left. She cleaned my table before I made it out the door.

Do not eat at Taco Bell.