Sunday, December 9, 2012

Monster Island



There’s a place I know
Just south of Japan
It’s the place to go …
It’s a swinging spot, man!
Monster Island …
There’s so much to do!
Monster Island
They’re all waiting for you!
Godzilla, and Mothra
King Ghidorah , woooh!
Rodan and Mothra and Gamara too
Monster Island
And you!

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Threatening Cockney gangster speech

Look, I'm a simple man. All I want is everything I want. That's all I ever wanted. Now, either you give me exactly what I want. Or I shall give you exactly what you don't want. And believe me, you don't want that. Seen from this perspective, what you want and what I want identical, in't it?

The Google Hymn


(to the tune of "Yes, Jesus Loves Me.")

I'm no dumbass. Facts I know!
That's 'cause Google tells me so.
Seven dwarfs and seven sins.
Director’s names. Word origins.

Yes, Google tells me. 
Yes, Google tells me.
Yes, Google tells me.
The shit that I don't know.

Paraguay’s capitol. Asunción
The atomic weight of Lithium.
That actor who was in that thing.
Composer of “Gimme that Ding.”

Yes, Google tells me. 
Yes, Google tells me.
Yes, Google tells me.
The shit that I don't know.






Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Church of Low Expectations

Imagine an ***hole. (The personality type, not the sphincter.) Now, imagine a human with a sense of humor. The two are mutually exclusive.
This is not to say many comedians aren't boiling with an inner sense of rage and, like the Incredible Hulk, apt to turn into googly-eyed rage monsters, sometimes on stage, sometimes not. (Bad for your health, I should add. Blows out vessels in the brain and shit.) But such explosions are rare -- a violation of their normal sanguine nature. Comedians can turn into assholes, yes. But only for brief periods of time.
Comedians don't feel entitled. Well, to anything except laughter and constant adoring attention. But, other than that, comedians don't feel entitled. They expect to get screwed over. They expect people to fall short. Hey, it's material.
Comedians don't walk around with a sense of perpectual outrage. The waiter fucked-up. What an idiot. But you don't want to actually kill the waiter and burn down his house. You don't want to teach the waiter the error of his ways. Prop his eyes open like Alex in a Clockwork Orange and make him see the light. Watch endless movies of his lousy service while a lab coat wearing tech medicates his unblinking eyes until...
"Yes, yes I see it's wrong, wrong terribly wrong to judge diners by the way they dress. I shouldn't have ignored your table and kissed the ass of that gold-plated blowhard shouting his observations at that fawning party of ten! You would've tipped me twenty percent. I see it, now! Forgive me, sir. I repent of my sin. I'm cured, praise God!"
Yeah you might imagine it. You wouldn't actually do it.
It's too much trouble.
Comedians would make lousy prophets. They don't expect humans to be saints. Any idiot can see humans are greedy, lazy, self-centered, yattayatta. The comedian is not suprised. Some jerk acts like a hypocrite. General Patreaus screws his worshipful biographer. A politician covers his ass. Ohmygod, there's GAMBLING at Rick's Cafe Americain. You're suprised? That's what humans do. That's like saying, "Ohmygod the COYOTE is chasing the road runner. He's buying crap from Acme and having painful industrial accidents." Hey, he's a coyote. Get over it.
To a comedian, human flaws are funny. (Not to mention animal flaws.) In a perfect world, there'd be nothing to joke about. "Yeah, we're in heaven sitting on clouds and playing harps. It's really great. You come here often?"

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Blasé, undecided independent

(to the tune of The Kinks' "Dedicated Follower of Fashion")

They seek me here.
They seek me there.
Their views are loud.
They want to share.
Politicians eager to convert me to their cause
'Cause I'm a blasé, undecided independent.

And so I fill my little mind
With punditry of every kind.
Tuning in to Amy Goodman. Switching to Glen Beck.
'Cause I'm a blasé, undecided independent.

Oh yes I am (oh yes I am), oh yes I am (oh yes I am).
I think I see both points of view quite clearly.
I'm so open-minded that my head feels rather light.
'Cause I'm a blasé, undecided independent.

Oh yes I am (oh yes I am), oh yes I am (oh yes I am).
There's one thing that I hate and that is shouting.
Come election day if they don't calm down I think I might stay home.
'Cause I'm a blasé, undecided independent.

Oh yes I am (oh yes I am), oh yes I am (oh yes I am).
I flit from Left to Right just like a butterfly.
Reading Ayn Rand on one day, Karl Marx the next
'Cause I'm a blasé, undecided independent.
I'm a blasé, undecided independent.
I'm a blasé, undecided independent.


Monday, September 3, 2012

White Heat Cereal


INT, CRAPPY APARTMENT -- DAY

Black and white scratchy footage. James Cagney and his platinum blonde Gun Moll sit at a table. There's a box of WHITE HEAT CEREAL (with a picture of a 45 aimed straight at you) and a bowl.


ANNOUNCER: (OS) For a kill-crazy criminal on the run, there's only one way to start the day. White Heat Cereal, with real film noir flavor!

James Cagney pours cereal into bowl.
The cereal is shaped like two X-es fused together.

CAGNEY: Say, it's a double cross!

ANNOUNCER: Sure. There's a double cross in every bite.

Gun Moll smirks.

CAGNEY: Say, what are you looking at?

Rams a grapefruit in her face.


CAGNEY: Now get me the morning paper. Make yourself useful.

She runs out of the room crying.

Cagney digs around in the cereal box.


CAGNEY: Say, where's my prize? There's no prize in the box!

ANNOUNCER: (OS) Here's your prize.

The 45 on the cereal box shoots Cagney in the face.

The Announcer enters with the Gun Moll.


GUN MOLL: Say. He didn't finish his cereal.

ANNOUNCER: Too bad. It's the most important meal of the day.

They share a laugh.


Sirens. (OS)

They run.





Sunday, September 2, 2012

Righrander


EXT. DEFUNCT CARNIVAL PARKING LOT - NIGHT
Weird, yellowish lighting from Mercury vapor lamps. Scooby Doo stands by the Mystery Machine. Waits.

Whirring noise. (OS)

The Jetsons' hovercar glides down and lands on the parking lot. Judy and Astro are inside. Judy's driving, of course.

The hovercar's bubble top opens. Astro emerges. Judy starts to get out too, but he nods for her to stay back.

Astro walks up to the Mystery Machine, stops, confronts Scooby Doo.


Astro: Ry reep ry romises.

Scooby Doo: Ree roo.

Scooby Doo nods. Panel door slides open on the van. Shaggy emerges, roughly manhandling out a figure with a hood over his head. Removes hood. We see it's George Jetson.

Shaggy shoves George to the asphalt.


George: Astro!

George tries to run to his dog. Shaggy pulls a 45. George stops.

Shaggy: Stay out of this pal. (giggles) Like, hang back and watch the show.

Scooby Doo pulls out a wicked katana sword. Holds it forward in a classic stance.


Scooby Doo: Rets rinish ris.

Astro: Ree ron't rave roo roo ris.

Scooby Doo: Ro. Rin re rend, rere ran ree ronly rone.

Scooby Doo charges Astro with a samurai battle cry. Astro pulls out his own wicked katana. The two talking dogs fight. It's spectacular, take my word for it.

Astro cuts off Scooby Doo's head. A flash of lightning. Astro absorbs Scooby Doo's life energy with a scream, then collapses.


George: Let's go home, Astro.

George and Astro walk back to Judy, who's been waiting by the hovercar. Judy gives Astro a doggy treat. The Jetson family gets into the hovercar. The bubble top closes. It lifts off and glides away.

Now alone, Shaggy studies Scooby Doo's body.


Shaggy: Like, bummer.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

The Great Truth Extinction


Announcer: 65 million years ago, a rogue asteroid slammed into what is now the Yucatan Peninsula.

CGI animation illustrates.

Announcer: (VO) The resulting explosion, ecological destruction and "nuclear winter" wiped out 97% of all dinosaur species.

CGI dinosaurs looking up with an "Oh shit" look in their eyes.

Blam.

Announcer: That's what they'd like you to believe. That's what we've all been taught. Only one problem. It's not true. The truth is far more disturbing, especially if you're a giant lizard.

Scary music.

Announcer: Sometimes government conspiracies can be far more deadly than a rock from space.

INT, DARK ROOM - NIGHT

Shadowy clip of huddled figures around a table plotting evil and smoking cigars.


Announcer: But sunlight is the best disinfectant.

Flare of light.

INT, DR. MANYAK'S LAB - DAY

Messy but charming lab. Announcer strides up to us. Dr. Manyak is sitting in the background surrounded by pop-culture cliche scientific props (bubbling flasks, a Tesla Ball, etc.) and a flat-screen display. Dr. Manyak has wild hair, like Einstein.

Announcer: Tonight on Connecting the Dots, we'll be sharing shocking new evidence that proves that a shadowy government conspiracy killed the noble dinosaurs. Here's an expert we found, Dr. Manyak, PhD and HMWB. He's wearing a lab coat and has diplomas on the wall. Some of them have Latin words on them. When the good doctor speaks, we listen. What do you have to say, doctor?

Dr. Manyak: The killer asteroid was scientifically impossible.

Announcer: There you have it. Dr. Manyak, a leading expert in his field, said the killer asteroid was "impossible." He said it. Scientifically speaking, assertion is proof. But please tell us more.

Dr. Manyak indicates graphic on flat screen.

DR. MANYAK: Consider the size of the so-called impact crater -- otherwise known as the "Chicxulub crater." (points to roughly circular graphic of crater on screen) As you can see, it has a diameter of approximately 10 kilometers. This would imply an iron-nickel object about the size of the Rock of Gibraltar.

Announcer: Was it the Rock of Gibraltar?

Dr. Manyak: No. Different rock, same size and mass, more or less. Now what do you think would happen if such an object were to strike the earth?

Announcer: You tell me.

Dr. Manyak: Well. Upon impact, such a superheated iron-nickel mass would have fused with melted silica deposits, creating metallic nodules embedding a glassy substrate below the point of impact. Obviously.

Announcer: (not following) Yes ... obviously.

Dr. Manyak. But nothing of the sort exist. In fact, no impact residue of any kind has been found whatsoever. Ever.

Announcer: Why has no impact residue been found?

Dr. Manyak: Why? (chuckles) Well, in terms of classic logic we call that, "Begging the question."

Announcer: How? What?

Dr. Manyak: Well, your very question contains the nested assumption that there was an impact. Why would you assume that?

Announcer: I ... I don't know.

Dr. Manyak: There was clearly an explosion. But why assume that it was created by an object from space? Clearly, this hypothesis doesn't line up with the facts on the ground. But a thermonuclear explosion would. (points to screen) Ground zero would be here. Where the thermonuclear device was planted.

Announcer: But ... who planted the device?

Dr. Manyak: Ah. Now that's an intelligent question.

EXT, STONEHENGE - DAY

Announcer: And Dr. Manyak gave an intelligent answer. A very disturbing answer. As disturbing as the ritual of human sacrifice at Stonehenge. He also answered a question I didn't ask. What would've happened if the dinosaurs had never been destroyed?

Montage illustrates what Announcer says.

Announcer: (VO) According to Dr. Manyak, in this alternate timeline, the Velociraptors would have acquired language and tool-making skills, become peaceful, and adopted mammals as pets. Millions of years later, humans and dinosaurs would live together in peace in a utopia resembling the hippie school in "Billy Jack." The energy running this civilization? Sunlight and the flapping wings of butterflies. Sounds good, right? But, to a conspiracy of humans on Jekyll Island, this was too good to be true.

INT, CREEPY MANSION - NIGHT
A sign announces "Human League"

More creepy lab equipment. Two conspirators at work. Human scientists. The evil variety.

Evil Human Scientist #1: I've invented the H-bomb. If only we could send it back in time

Evil Human Scientist #2: You're not going to believe this. I've invented the time machine.

Evil Human Scientist #1: Screw the dinosaurs!

They high-five. Then send the H-Bomb back in time.

EXT, PARK, DINOTOWN - DAY - 65 Million Years BC
Barney watches little dinosaurs playing at the playground.

Barney: Gosh what a beautiful day. Nothing could possibly go wrong!

An H-Bomb vaporizes the city behind the park. Barney clutches the chain-link fence and is flash-fried like Sarah Connor in Terminator 2. Along with all the other dinosaurs.

INT, DR. MANYAK'S LAB

Announcer: But ... why would they kill the dinosaurs?

Dr. Manyak: Why? For the oldest reason in the world. Follow the money.

Announcer: The money?

Dr. Manyak: Yes. Think. What did the dead dinosaurs become?

Announcer: Oil?

Dr. Manyak: (knowingly) Oil.

Montage of evil oil wells as in World Party's "Ship of Fools" video. Montage concludes with --

EXT, SINCLAIR OIL GAS STATION

Slow zoom on old Sinclair Oil sign. Close in on dinosaur silhouette. Hold.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Raising your Gifted Child

Through no fault of their own, your child may alienate his non-gifted playmates. Try to be understanding.

Encourage you child's interest in computers and technology.

Your child may reveal astonishing artistic ability. Encourage this as well.

The structured learning environment of a typical public school may leave your child feeling bored and alienated.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Excuse me, could you direct me to the Nazi section

For some reason, evil fascinates us. Go to the library. There are, maybe, three books on the Quakers. There are shelves and shelves of books about the Nazis. The Quakers had oatmeal. The Nazis had Zyklon-B. The Quakers founded the City of Brotherly Love. The Nazis invaded Poland. Strictly speaking, I'd rather hang out with Quakers. But people want to read about Nazis.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Sunyatta Supermarket: Where shopping really sucks!

INT, SUPERMARKET
Bored-looking customers at the check-out line. One is a crazed Mad Scientist with hair like a Treasure Troll. He reaches into his lab coat and pulls out an apparatus resembling a Thermos bottle.

MAD SCIENTIST: So it was prophesied. Well, yes, of course. Anyway.

He unscrews the apparatus. A micro-black hole pops out, and immediately begins sucking the screaming clerk and customers inside. Along with the cackling Mad Scientist, not to mention the candy bars, glossy magazines, and the end-cap display filled with disposable razors and batteries.

A bored-looking Manager looks over from Customer Service. Surveys the carnage. Thinks. Then pulls the microphone closer. Speaks into it ...

MANAGER: Void on Aisle 7. Void on Aisle 7.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Dr. Monster's Super Villain Aptitude Test

Exciting careers await in the expanding field of supervillainry! Do you have what it takes? Select the response that feels right to you and find out!

1. Are your decisions based on objective fact or emotions?

(A) I remain objective.

(B) The question is irrelevant. I bend the world to my will and create the facts that I desire.

(C) I struggle not to let feelings cloud my judgment but they often do.


2. When making decisions, do you leave your options open or prefer to have matters settled?

(A) I like to leave my options open.

(B) I narrow the options based on the options I think are best in this situation.

(C) Nothing should ever go wrong. There is no room or excuse for failure. “Plan B” is for the weak.


3. Do you prefer developing new and innovative systems or making existing systems better?

(A) I like to develop new, innovative systems.

(B) Humanity is a flock of mindless sheep. Their pitiful “existing systems” mean nothing to me. I will lay them to waste and create a perfect world in my image.

(C) I just want to make existing systems work more efficiently.


4. Where do you fall in a scale between logical and analytical and personable and sensitive?

(A) Your categories are limited and pathetic. My soul cannot be mapped by such crude parameters. The last person who tried died in unimaginable agony.

(B) I am logical but I do have a heart, too.

(C) I am personable and sensitive to the exclusion of logic.


5. Are you more of a practical, hands-on worker or an idea person?

(C) I am a practical, hands-on worker.

(B) I am an idea person who sometimes finds it easier to be quiet and focus on work.

(C) Ideas mean nothing without work. The ideas of the true superman must create work. The burning fire inside my brain will set my minions to the task at hand.


6. Are you a detail person or do you go with the flow?

(A) I am a detail person.

(B) I am a detail-oriented person but sometimes there’s no time for that.

(C) I am the flow. My impulses are always right. I simply act. Thinking is for the weak. My will is the will of God. The Tao, history, destiny, God—whatever insipid term you care to use—flows through me, and only through me. Behold! I have come to change the world in my image, to bring new order, and destruction and pain to the weak. For petty details, I prefer the Google Day Planner widget. It is quite intuitive.


7. On social occasions do you prefer listening to what is going on around you or do you prefer watching the goings-on?

(A) I do not watch the mob; they watch me--offering abject, cringing obedience. No talking, though hymns in my honor are acceptable.

(B) I prefer to listen but sometimes I like to watch, too.

(C) I don't like to be too aware of what other people are doing or saying.


8. How do you prefer to learn—through diagrams and pictures or through experiments and activities?

(A) I prefer to learn by viewing diagrams and pictures.

(B) I like classes that mix visual and hands-on training.

(C) My days of learning are over. I am here to give lessons. They shall come in many forms.


9. When assigned a task, do you start by reading the instructions or figure it out as you go?

(A) Who would dare assign me a task? I must search my memory for the last time this happened. I was 7, yes, that’s it. My father told me to rake the leaves off the front porch. I set him on fire.

(B) I feel uncomfortable undertaking a task until I have been trained in the procedures.

(C) I think I can figure this out as I go but I will glance at the directions if needed.


10. Which of the following best describes your ability to speak and persuade others?

(A) I am always able to persuade others that I am right.

(B) I speak. The weak submit. They know their master’s voice! They honor me with their eyes and expressions of pathetic devotion, almost sexual. I feel no honor, for they are weak.

(C) I have a hard time persuading others.


Thursday, May 3, 2012

If I wanted America to fail ...

Before the final exam, I would keep America up late at night and get America drunk.

I would attack America's self-image and make America cry.

I would hide America's keys before an important job interview.

I would break into America's house and do multiple searches for "Evil clown fisting" in Google.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Van Gogh Gogh

Secret Service Man

(to the tune of Johnny Rivers' "Secret Agent Man")

Here’s a man who pays for sex with strangers
Like hookers that he finds in Cartagena
If you say you’re going to pay, don’t skip out and run away
Odds are you’ll be a headline come tomorrow
Secret Service Man
Secret Service Man
She’s giving you her number
And a Third World STD

Friday, April 13, 2012

Charlie Manson Parole Hearing

INT, CALIFORNIA PRISON -- DEPRESSING PAROLE HEARING ROOM -- DAY
Charlie Manson, in chains sitting in a plastic chair, confronts three schlumps
at a table considering his case.


OFFICER #1: They got a name for people like you, Charlie. That name is
called ''recidivism.''

OFFICER #2: Repeat offender!

OFFICER #1: Not a pretty name, is it, Charlie?

CHARLIE: No, sir. That's one bonehead name.
But that ain't me anymore.

OFFICER #2: Have you reformed, Charlie?

CHARLIE: Yes sir, I have.

OFFICER #1: What steps have you taken to reform yourself?

CHARLIE: Well, sir. I've taken a correspondence course in public relations.

OFFICER #1: You did, huh?

CHARLIE: Yes, sir. I think I have a talent for that.

OFFICER #1: I don't see you in public relations, Charlie.

CHARLIE: I'm a people person. Sir.

OFFICER #2: OK, then. Anything else?

CHARLIE: Well, uh. I've been teaching myself, uh, Garage Band. It's, uh, software. Sir.

OFFICER #1: We don't say "software" no more. We say "application."

CHARLIE: OK.

OFFICER #2: OK, then. Well. What's this here application do?

CHARLIE: Well, sir. You can make your own records now. You don't need a producer.

OFFICER #1: Is that so?

CHARLIE: Yes, sir. It is so.

OFFICER #2: OK, then. So, if'n that's true ...

CHARLIE: It's true, sir. Sorry to interrupt.

OFFICER #2: ...you wouldn't need no Terry Melcher type to be a singer songwriter these days?

CHARLIE: No, you wouldn't, sir. Gosh, you know, that's something I really regret.

OFFICER #1: Is that so?

CHARLIE: Yes sir. If Terry was here right now, I'd apologize on my hands and knees.

OFFICER #2: Hands and knees, Charlie? You'd do that?

CHARLIE: Yes, sir. I surely would. Gee, you know ... I'm really, really sorry.
I was young, OK? It was all a big misunderstanding, really.

OFFICER #1: What was, Charlie?

CHARLIE: Well, you know, sir. That Helter Skelter thing. See, I was just holding onto
anger in my heart 'cause Terry wouldn't cut me a record deal. I really wanna, like man
up, OK? "Hey Terry, I'm sorry, man." That's what I want to tell him.

OFFICER #1: Well. Terry's dead now.

OFFICER #2: You didn't know that?

CHARLIE: No, sir.

CHARLIE doesn't react. Poker-faced.

OFFICER #1: But I reckon the Good Lord sees the secret things of the heart, Charlie.
If'n your repentance is sincere, I'm sure he'll ... well, pass it along to Terry.
Him and, well ... the rest of 'em.

CHARLIE: That's kinda how I see it. Sir.

OFFICER #2: Are you just tellin' us what we wanna hear?

CHARLIE: No, sir, no way.

OFFICER #2: OK, then.

He rubber-stamps Charlie's parole application.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

The Sounds of Facebook

(to the tune of "Sounds of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel)


Hello Facebook, my old friend

You’ve come to waste my time again

Scrolling through the petty arguments

Made-up minds, you can’t make a dent

And the choirs who are preaching to themselves

Like twisted elves

Within the sound of Facebook


In Timeline’s fog I logged alone

To see the bullshit I had thrown

And my friends, who bitched about keeping Lent

I thought and added my comment

When my brain was stabbed by the cash of Mark Zuckerberg

Who is a nerd

But !@#$ rich from Facebook


And in my monitor I saw

Ten million people, maybe more

People sharing without filtering

While FB their data is pilfering

People posing in the cliques of a vast high school

They type and drool

And that’s the sound of Facebook


"Dopes," said I, "You do not know!

This circle jerk, you make it grow!

Read a book that you might have some thoughts.

Get some sleep before you plotz.”

But my friends all responded with “dislike”

So !@##$ you Mike

And !@#$ you Facebook


And the people typed away

To friends in Bangkok and LA

Imagining someone else reading

In the solipsistic Borg breeding

And my mind said, "The words of the prophets aren’t written in Facebook posts.

You talk to ghosts."

The rest is silence.