Part 2 of 4: In which bureaucrats make decisions, hoodlum school is avoided, and the author confesses his youthful desire to make love to the world.
Be sure to check out our first installment, Don’t Forget To Hurt. You’ll kick yourself if you miss it.
Another consequence of my behavior has been three instances of mandated counselling.¹ Now, I think these kinds of therapy, when properly conducted, can work wonders in helping people get over their shit and on with their lives. But about the only thing I took from my first two encounters with the mental health profession is that not all professionals are created equal. In fact, some are kinda shitty.
The first attempt to talk the bad out of me came during my junior year of high school. I’d been recently booted from the choir program, and was having/creating issues in all my non-PE classes. The school bureaucrats quickly concluded that I was on drugs.² They offered me the stark choice of either seeing a psychiatrist, or else I could do my learnin’ with the brooding hardcases over at the hoodlum school. Since getting a shiv jammed into my eye-socket during fourth-period Reading Fundamentals would prove a considerable obstacle to my cherished goal of someday getting the fuck out of Tacoma, Washington, I opted instead for the mental health professional.
The shrink I ended up seeing really looked the part. She was of that indeterminate age north of forty, expensively pantsuited and detached almost to the point of boredom. To her credit, when I told her that I had never done drugs, she didn’t ask me about it again. She asked me a lot of other questions, though, and made notes as I answered. She didn’t add or suggest anything, just kept peppering me with questions.
There was one topic, however, with which she seemed unusually preoccupied, leading her to ask one particular question several times. If ever, while responding to her ongoing interrogation, I mentioned a female with whom I wasn’t too closely related, she would ask the same question. “And did you want to sleep with her?”³
I was sixteen years old–I wanted to fuck pretty much everything walking on two legs, a rather unselective sample in which the psychiatrist herself was included, although helpfully, I did not share this information during our sessions. Instead I answered “Yes” about 50% of the time when she asked me about girls I wanted to pork, and lied the rest of the time.
But after confessing that I wanted to lay down with every other woman I met, there didn’t seem much else to talk about. I stopped going after the second session and nothing was ever said of it again.
In our third installment, I’m Tardsie, And I’m An Alcoholic Apparently, it just gets worse. See you there.
¹My use of ‘mandated’ here may be misleading. Two of the three experiences (the second and third to be detailed in the final two installments) were not mandated per se, but the result of institutional coercion. Only one of them was actually a legal thing. ∞ T.
²In fact, they were wrong. What really hurts, though, is that for a minute there you believed them. ∞ T.
³Just like that: ‘Sleep with her.” I’ve always thought that a prudish and not-very-accurate phrase. I mean, sure–sleep will probably happen, but that’s not really what I’m looking for, you know? ∞ T.
Ryan Dunn, of Jackass fame, was killed early Monday morning when his Porsche collided with a tree in suburban Philadelphia. A passenger in Dunn’s vehicle was also killed in the crash, but details on the person’s identity have been slow in coming, presumably because he or she was not a celebrity and therefore suffered a non-newsworthy death.
The 34-year-old star of MTV’s Jackass was best known for ridiculous and dangerous stunts, the kind which are most often accompanied by boldfaced warnings not to try this at home. Although initial police reports indicate that the actor may have been travelling at excessive speed, those close to the reality star contend that such irresponsible and potentially life-threatening behavior would be completely out of character for Dunn.
bad decisions, black market body parts, China, consumerism, death by kidney failure, foolish choices, fucking idiots, greed, Guandong, iPad 2, iPhone, jackassery, kidney, morons, organ donors, organ sales, stupid people, vital organs, Why am I so stupid?, Xiao Zheng, you so dumb
Disproving the long-standing stereotype that Chinese children are better educated and more intelligent than their Western counterparts, one young man in China has set out to prove that Chinese youth are every bit as stupid as Western kids, if not even more stupider.* Xiao Zheng, a 17-year-old moron from Guangdong province in China, was so horny for electronic products that it seemed a good idea to sell body parts to get them.
But Xiao was no fool; he wasn’t about to go selling critically important organs like his heart, liver or appendix–the absence of which would bring about immediate death, preventing him from playing with his blood-bought doodads. Instead, he chose from paired organs, finally settling on a kidney. Considered a vital–or at the very least really important– organ by most medical professionals, the kidney filters waste from the blood, as well as performing several other duties in support of a properly functioning body.
Xiao pushed ahead with his hard-thought plan, permitting an anonymous assembly line surgeon with questionable hygiene to rummage his innards before ripping out the healthy organ. But the slaughterhouse docs were as good as their word, paying Xiao the kingly sum of 22,000 Yuan, or about $3,400. Meanwhile a cancer-ridden septuagenarian billionaire was able to add a few months to his papery half-life thanks to the gift of the teenager’s kidney, paying the black marketeers enough to ensure a ridiculous profit margin–so in the end, everybody won.
Xiao didn’t waste his nearly 3.5 grand by investing it by bribing a local official for higher placement on the civil service exam or for his inevitable future dialysis treatments. Instead, he used the money as he always intended, to buy an iPad 2 and a boss new iPhone.
Xiao is already planning his financial strategy for purchasing the next generation of those devices when they ship early next year–he’ll sell more paired organs. The maimed lad is already gauging responses from potential buyers for one of his eyes or a lung. Sadly, Xiao’s liquid physical resources end there–alas, he was born with just one testicle.
*While it’s true that the comparative and superlative forms of ‘stupid’ are ‘stupider’ and ‘stupidest’ respectively, Smaktakula is employing the superduperlative form. Now you know. ∞T.
attention-seeking celebrities, cannabis, Diddy, dope, hemp, hip-hop, jackassery, karaoke, marijuana, mogul, multinominal, overpaid performers, P. Diddy, pot, Puff Daddy, Puffy, reefer, ridiculous names, Schwag, Sean Combs, Squiggy, Swag, sweet sweet cheeba, swiggy, unfortunately-named celebrities, untalented stars, weed
Surprisingly, the public is still paying attention to the tiresome karaoke enthusiast (most recently) formerly known as Diddy. Having followed the minimally-talented showboat through such ridiculous incarnations as ‘Puffy,’ Puff Daddy and P. Diddy, the performer’s surprisingly resilient fan base has demonstrated time and time again an admirable knack for putting up with exquisite jackassery.
That resilience is called upon once more as the multinominal mogul satisfies his rapacious and now-comical ego by sucking marrow from the bones of his waning credibility. In honor of himself, the ex-Diddy has demanded that for the next week he be called by his exciting temporary name: Swag.
However, a cadre of techno-savvy fans believe they have solved Swag’s naming algorithm, and can predict the mercurial performer’s next incarnation. These super-fans are already referring to Swag by his presumed next nom de hip-hop–Swiggy.
We think he should go for a name that rhymes with ‘Swag’–We’ve got a good one ∞T.
cable networks, Canada, chewing tobacco, dangerous people, death by Don King, death by kicking, Deep South, Deliverance, Don King, historians, History, inbreeding, jackassery, Kansas, Kinglish, Larry the Cable Guy, money for nothing, NASCAR, non-historians, Only in America, rednecks, scary people, stereotypes, stupid people, sweet hockey moves, the unfunnying of America, TV for idiots, Uncle-Daddy, unfunny comedians, untalented stars, you got a real purty mouth
Cretinous stereotype Larry The Cable Guy has teamed with infotainment network History for the new series Only In America, which profiles such uniquely American innovations as the origins of NASCAR or the popularization of smokeless tobacco. History, formerly the History Channel, is steadily moving away from history the way MTV fled from music in the early 1990s.
Although Larry is not the first non-historian to host a show on History, the unfunny comedian is thought to be network’s first presenter completely lacking in talent. Nonetheless, History executives are said to be very pleased with Larry. Said one, “Who better to honestly present the unvarnished truth of history than a dude from Kansas who honors America by pretending to be a heavily accented dimwit from the Deep South?”
Only in America, which debuts tomorrow, has already attracted its share of critics. Among them is electroshock-coiffed fight promoter Don King, who has for years used the phrase “Only in America” as something of a trademark. King, who once kicked a man to death, is said to be “Inconsolulate” over what he considers “Thieverification of the lowest order,” adding, “This injustitude will be revelated in the shining light of honestifery and greeted with commensurable wrathness!”
abortion, adhesive decal, Americans' woeful lack of a global perspective, Asia, ass-talking, Barack Obama, bumper sticker mentality, China, Dalai Lama, Did we ever fix the Rain Forest?, Free Tibet flags, Free Tibet!, Free World, freeway pundits, Fugeeman, Haiti, Haitians don't play baseball, irony, irony sense, Ivory Coast, jackassery, John Edwards, John Kerry, KERRY/EDWARDS 2004, Macedonia, mythical creatures, mythical lands, Native Americans, Norway, OBAMA IS A SOCIALIST!, people who want to sound smart but aren't, PISS, political bumper stickers, Political Intelligence Standards Survey, political philosophy, political slogans, post-Soviet, Promethean Times, Smaktakula's ability to shamelessly talk out of his ass, SMILE YOU WEREN'T ABORTED, South America, Soviet Union, Sri Lanka, stupid people, stupidity on display, sub-Saharan, Tibet, Tibetans, uninformed opinions, voodoo, we choose to use 'stupid' as a noun. What are you gonna do?, we don't know what we're talking about, Wendigo, William Faulkner, Wyclef Jean, Yeti
It’s a challenge to drive any distance these days without seeing the ubiquitous political bumper sticker, in which complex and deeply-nuanced issues are boiled down to a sloganized reduction so bereft of substance that it makes the average high-schooler’s Tweet seem Faulknerian by comparison. From SMILE YOU WEREN’T ABORTED’s stealthy smugness to the charmingly pathetic earnestness of KERRY/EDWARDS 2004, political bumper stickers proclaim a myriad of simplistic political philosophies expressed in varying degrees of screechiness.
FREE TIBET saw its heyday as a cause célèbre in the heady days of the Post-Soviet 1990s, when anything seemed possible–even affecting global change through the power of an adhesive decal. Even so, FREE TIBET still doggedly clamors for attention from the rear bumpers of those who refuse to forget.
But do they know what they remember? After seeing a certain musician (whom we choose not to name, but who recently attempted a laughably anticlimactic run at the presidency of an impoverished, voodoo-loving, non-baseball playing nation in the Caribbean) fail spectacularly to comment coherently on the situation, we began to wonder how much Tibet’s defenders actually know about the tiny, oppressed nation. So we devised a simple test.
Although Promethean Times lives and dies on Freedom of Expression, we believe also in the responsibility to voluntarily limit that freedom to those spheres of knowledge in which the speaker has at least a rudimentary grasp of the subject. We do not question the right of any man, woman or child to speak out of his or her ass–Promethean Times is both a proponent of and adherent to the delicately-disciplined ballet that is ass-talking–but to trumpet one’s ignorance publicly from the back of a car is not only a blaring admission of that ignorance, but allows observers to match the stupid to a face.
Which is why Promethean Times endorses the Political Intelligence Standards Survey, a voluntary program whereby the owners of political bumper stickers would submit to a brief test of their knowledge on the subject about which they wish so stridently to opine. Those freeway pundits able to pass the test would be able to tell the world not only that OBAMA IS A SOCIALIST!, but also to proudly proclaim that they have at least a half-formed idea of what a socialist is.
For the FREE TIBET crowd we recommend asking “On which continent will you find Tibet?” In a perfect world the respondent would be able to name the country from which beleaguered Tibet seeks to gain its independence, but after much debate we decided that was probably asking for too much from today’s geographically-disinclined society.
The upshot is that the situation in Tibet is very serious, and threatens to spill over into neighboring Ivory Coast and Macedonia, with violence potentially spreading widely enough even to affect fake countries like Sri Lanka. Until the Norwegian government sees fit to bring real freedom to the brave people of this tiny sub-Saharan nation, the Free World should never expect real peace in South America.
Given that the above is 100% true, we’re not exactly sure why our Irony Sense goes wild at the fact that until recently some FREE TIBET flags were made in China. ∞T.
double-disaster, idiotic comments, Indonesia, jackassery, Mount Merapi, muslims, natural disasters, Pat Robertson, Pat Robertson is batshit crazy, religious intolerance, televangelist, tsunami, volcanic activity, volcanoes
A freakish double-disaster has claimed the lives of at least 137 people in Indonesia. On Monday, parts of the island nation were stuck by a tsunami, killing a least a hundred people and leaving many more homeless. The following day, an eruption from Mount Merapi, the country’s most active volcano, killed at least twenty-five more.
Perhaps most remarkable development in this chain of events is the continuing silence of American televangelist Pat Robertson, whom most observers expect to opine at any moment that the Muslim nation was somehow asking for it.
actors, Actors' Equity Union, autoerotic asphyxiation, California, Canada, Cousin Eddie, crazy people, cretinous bumbler, David Carradine, Dennis Quaid, Evi Quaid, Heath Ledger, jackassery, Kingpin, National Lampoon's Vacation, political asylum, Randall Rudy Quaid, Randy Quaid, restraining order, Santa Barbara, scandal, Seattle, star whackers
Is there a secret cabal of assassins intent on taking down Hollywood one actor at a time? Cretinous bumbler Randy Quaid and his wife Evi think so. Fearing such a shadow force, the Quaids appeared before Canada’s Immigration and Refugee Board seeking asylum.
Quaid, best known for playing half-wits and morons in films like National Lampoon’s Vacation and Kingpin, is said to be afraid for his life. Quaid claims that eight of his friends, including actors Heath Ledger and David Carradine, have died in the past few years at the hands of a mysterious organization known only as ‘Star Whackers.’ While Carradine’s sad demise from autoerotic asphyxiation in Thailand does indicate a propensity for whacking, Heath Ledger is believed to have died from an overdose of prescription pills.
Despite the official findings and conventional wisdom, Quaid maintains that these deaths are not suicides or tragic accident. In a handwritten note shown to the press by the Quaids’ attorney, the formerly-bankable star wrote:
Yes we are requesting asylum from Hollywood ‘STAR WHACKERS.’
The Quaids are no strangers to scandal. Randy managed to get himself banned for life from the Actors’ Equity Union and fined $81,000 for his treatment of castmates in a Seattle production of Lone Star Love. Although she was not involved with the production, Evi Quaid’s threatening behavior toward the cast earned her a restraining order.
It remains to be seen whether Canadian authorities will seriously entertain the Quaids’ request for asylum. The choice cannot be an easy one. Canada must balance her proud tradition of sheltering the politically oppressed with the knowledge that if the Quaids are allowed refuge in the country, the formerly pristine nation will be one step closer to becoming the USA.
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If you’ve got a swingin’ pair of nuts hanging pendulously from your trailer hitch, then you most definitely are.