Meet The New Boss, Same As The Old Boss. Except Much Fatter.
It’s not typical in the information age for the political rising star of a nuclear-capable rogue state to go unnoticed by nervous foreign powers. But in the case of the Brilliant Comrade, Kim Jong-il’s mysterious and until recently unknown son, Kim Jong-un, that appears to be exactly what happened.
Because Despots-In-Training--Even The Comical Kind--Do Not Smile For Photos.
Now the old man is trotting ‘Lil ‘Lil Kim out at every opportunity, giving the world a chance to examine the Brilliant Comrade in detail. He’s a little heftier than previous pictures indicated, not unremarkable in a country so desperately lacking in food. Moreover, ‘Lil ‘Lil Kim’s porcine features coupled with the irascible disposition he is said to have inherited from his father lends him that special brand of terrifying goofiness which should allow him to lord over the impoverished third-world hellhole as long as its crumbling infrastructure holds out.
Fact: More Americans Can Hum The Waltz From '2001: A Space Odyssey,' Than Can Identify Europe's Second-Longest River.
A red, seething mass of toxic sludge from an aluminium leak in Hungary has now reached the storied River Danube, Europe’s second longest river. The pH level of the Danube, which flows through 10 European countries, is 9.8 in the affected areas when it should fall within a range of 7-8.
This will undoubtedly prove catastrophic to the environment, perhaps harkening back to a former European disaster–Chernobyl. The economic impact will be onerous, as will the cost in lives and human suffering.
The Environmental Impact Has Been Particularly Horrid.
Four people have been killed so far by the rambling death blob, and hundreds more forced from their homes. The topsoil in the affected area has become so saturated with toxic chemicals that it will likely have to be replaced. This will come at great cost.
MAL Hungarian Aluminium Production and Trade Company, the outfit responsible for the leak, is doing its level best to make BP’s response to the Deepwater Horizon spill look like a NASCAR pit crew by comparison. They’ve offered $150,000 to help pay for the damages, and are calling it good.
$150,000 Should Go A Long Way To Bringing This All Back. In Hungary, $150K Has The Equivalent Buying Power Of $23,000,000,000 In The United States.
Leaders of potentially affected countries are looking for a silver lining in this disaster. They are said to be holding out hope that this environmental crisis will distract from the growing unrest over recent austerity programs, or that perhaps the swarming red mass will devour some of the protesters.
In 1971, Joshua Blahyi’s parents christened him with a perfectly respectable name. But during the first Liberian Civil War of the early-1990s, the young Sarpo tribesman became better known as the infamous General Butt Naked.
That the name sounds reminiscent of a comic book super-villain is appropriate. According to his own testimony before Liberia’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Gen. Naked and his forces slaughtered upwards of 20,000 people. While such a figure does not propel him to Hitlerian status, it does confirm his status as a free-swinging cock.
Which, perhaps not coincidentally is how Gen. Naked acquired his colorful nickname. Said to lead his troops clad in nothing but sneakers and an assault rifle, the freeballing guerilla struck fear in the hearts of his enemies.
"Because Of The Atrocities, Human Sacrifice And Blood Drinking--All Performed Nude, I'd Like To Add-- People Have The Idea That I'm Some Kind Of Monster."
His savagely loyal troops were often similarly non-attired. Sometimes they would dress in drag before their raids, presumably to strike extra fear within the hearts of any homophobes among their victims.
Sister Is Doin' It For Himself.
The General’s career began when he received a phone call from the devil at age 11. Backed by his infernal sponsor, Naked was soon a high priest among his tribe, practicing a fanatical polyglot Christianity which incorporated aspects of several local faiths. The warlord admitted to acts of child sacrifice and blood-drinking on the eve of battles.
General Butt Naked is reformed now, and works as an evangelical minister in Liberia. The General claims to feel “very bad, so bad” about his former crimes, but insists that as one possessed by the devil, he is not responsible for his actions. The nickname he keeps around as a sort of souvenir.
God Forgives Reverend Butt Naked. Why Won't The Families Of His Victims?
While we typically refrain from recycling material scoured from the wilds of the internet, this particular meme was too good to pass up. Presenting for your viewing pleasure, the Meme Team.
God Bless Us, Everyone!
The Meme Team may be the truest artistic representation of contemporary culture: It’s fun to look at and chock full o’ awesome, but ultimately means nothing, an updated version of the Bayeux Tapestry for our short attention span lives.
And, we’re a little late to the dance on this one, but since we’re in for a penny . . .
Please enjoy the antic stylings of Antoine Dodson:
Blame His Parents, His Community Or Even TV, But Leave The Kid Alone. He Don't Know No Better.
The mullet and the fauxhawk, two uniquely odious hairstyles which perch like fur gargoyles atop less-discriminating pates throughout the United States and Europe, are not often mentioned in the same breath. The two could not be more dissimilar, and yet they are united in pileous* ignominy. Along with the frizzy perm, which fortunately has grown rare in recent decades, these hideous head sculptures comprise a hairy Axis of Eww.
The mullet is by far the oldest of the three, its origins described in hushed tales of a land in a time long past, where the rivers were said to flow not with water but Corona, and where every spring the methamphetamine trees would bloom.
Briefly in vogue during the 1980s, the mullet has been returned to its ancestral practitioners, typically fringy rednecks or sweaty European soccer stars.
Happily, Like Small Pox And Polio Before It, The Frizzy Perm Is Quietly Going Away.
By comparison, the fauxhawk is a new arrival on the fashion scene. Lacking the balls to be a mohawk, but still too douchey for polite company, the fauxhawk is a coward’s hairstyle. The fauxhawk’s relative newness coupled with a lack of media access among the poor and the stupid allows the hairstyle to spread in places ignorant to its deleterious effect upon the community.
Achtung, Mullet! Elvis Presley Brought Black Music To A Wider Audience, And The Beatles Introduced Us To Crazy Drugs And Beautiful Ideas. Bono's Gift Was A Hairstyle.
Fauxhawk apologists claim this limited acceptance as evidence of the hairstyle’s superiority over the mullet, reckoning it to be the lesser of two evils. As with the medical community’s resistance to Joseph Lister’s insistence on sterile medical equipment, simply because someone is unaware of the fauxhawk’s insipidity does not exempt them from same. Not only are these wearers of the fauxhawk wallowing blissfully in their own suckitude, but their ignorance renders them into objects of pity.
Britney Sports A Thoroughly Modern Femullet For Her Appearance At The Festival For Traditional Southern Culture, Folk Art And Rasslin'.
People with mullets, or mulletards, may be mouth-breathing cretins of dubious lineage, but they have a semblance of honor. To the rest of the world a mullet may simply say “dipwad,” but to the mulletard it is epic poetry. By choosing to wear a mullet, a man is making a proud statement that runs the gamut of human experience, from I know where I was when Dale Jr. died to My heart’s a little achy-breaky right now, thanks so much for askin’ and everything in between.
We Have A Question For You, Inexplicably Famous Person: What Sound Do You Hear When Water Collides With Vinegar? (*DOUCHE*)
*We have included the definition lest readers erroneously believe, as did our spell check, that we meant to write ‘piteous.’ In fact we did not.
Voyeuristic cock-knocker Dharun Ravi had no idea that his cruel, invasive prank would lead to his roommate Tyler Clementi’s suicide and subsequent metaphorical rebirth as the 21st Century’s Matthew Shepard. The two Rutgers freshmen had by all accounts a fairly amicable relationship, although Ravi had allegedly expressed apprehension about Clementi’s homosexuality.
Dharun Ravi: Failed To Anticipate The Possible Fallout From Humiliating His Potentially Unstable Gay College Roommate During A Slow News Cycle.
Whether his actions were spurred by homophobia or simply because he was a festering genital lesion, Ravi secretly recorded what is being called “a sexual encounter” between Clementi and another male, and then uploaded it onto the internet.
Clementi, in an apparent suicide three days later, leapt to his death from the George Washington Bridge.
Rather than Thank Goodness This Asshole Wasn’t Your College Roommate, we could have just as easily called it Thank Goodness You’re Not Dharun Ravi, because that guy is F-U-C-K-E-D.
Pyongyang announced recently that The Brilliant Comrade Kim Jong-un, son of comical despot Kim Jong-il has been made a vice-chairman of the Central Military Commission and promoted to the rank of Four Star General. Most North Korea analysts see this as confirmation that ‘Lil ‘Lil Kim has been tapped to be his father’s chosen successor.
Big Kim, 'Lil Kim, 'Lil 'Lil Kim (Maybe).
At the tender age of twenty-seven (or possibly twenty-eight), The Brilliant Comrade has succeeded wildly in comparison to the shiftless couch-warmers who comprise his generation. This kid’s a four-star general–guess you being the youngest partner at Lemitz, Lemitz and Mulcahy isn’t such a big fucking deal, huh?
"My Regions Will Destroy You! . . . What? . . . Regions. I Can't Berieve You Never Heard That. You Know, Rike A Bunch Of Sordiers. Regions."
Charlie Rangel, the Democratic congressman from New York’s 15th District, is fighting for his political life. Amid a variety of ethics charges, Rangel has been forced to relinquish the chair of the House Ways and Means committee, but has managed a recent primary win and expects to keep his seat in November.
Despite The Malfeasance, Despite The Chicanery And Despite Not Having A Real Job Since 1971, It's Pretty Damn Hard Not To Like Charlie Rangel.
Charlie can’t like his odds for beating the myriad ethics violations stacked against him. However, like a shark which must keep swimming, it’s guaranteed Rangel will give it a go. If there’s anyone capable of extricating himself from his own mess, it’s Harlem’s loveable scoundrel.
A1 Steak Sauce, which first reached American shores in the late 19th Century, has become a restaurant staple. The surprisingly addictive brown sludge–which contains among other ingredients: dates, vinegar, mango chutney and apples– can be found next to the napkin dispenser on grimy tables across this great land.
Although there are certainly better steak sauces on the market, the fact that every year steaks are covered in enough A1 to fill Lake Superior is evidence of the regard in which the food-like product is held. Despite having all the flavor subtlety of a semi careening through the living room wall, A1 doesn’t suck.
In One A1 Campaign The Announcer Boasts "I Have Actually Wept Over A Steak." Really? Because That Makes You Either A Hindu Or A Pussy. We Don't See Any Dot On Your Forehead.
Sadly, the same cannot be said for A1’s commercials. For over twenty years the company’s executives have been greenlighting commercials which could not possibly appeal to any sort of discerning taste. Marketing a mid-range product to a host of desperate hut-dwellers is not unlike pushing Showtime on a Cinemax audience–they’re just not ready for it.
This first commercial highlights A1’s apparent target audience: the shapeless ignoramus. A1 presents as a virtue the protagonist’s unfathomable stupidity in addition to his complete disregard for his own safety, when at the end he asks about the welfare of a steak which will never cross his lips.
In the sauce giant’s most recent campaign, A1 juxtaposes images of Meatloaf, the grotesque singing oddity of yesteryear, and meatloaf, the meat-based comestible. This apparently in the mistaken belief that watching a lumpy has-been grunt over his meat before lip-synching to a mangled version of one of his few hits will be in any way appetizing to all but the most lonely fetishists.
As we have seen, A1 now focuses a significant portion of its advertising on individuals with aberrant personalities. But what about the truly damaged? A1 especially wants them. Witness this appeal not only to dangerous sociopaths, but the victims upon whom they prey who refuse to see themselves as anything but helpless. Enjoy!
In this A1 offering from yesteryear, one family’s creepy uncle (and Dick Cavett doppelgänger) ruins yet another get-together when he becomes orgasmic over A1: My dear nephew, what is hamburger–chopped ham? NO! It’s chopped steak. And what’s better on steak than . . . A1? This occasion marked the last time that Uncle Chester was asked over to the house. Not because he was giddy for steak sauce, but because of the way his hands always seemed to linger too long on Joey.
A1 boasts that it was originally the condiment of kings, and would have consumers believe that a little bit of that royal awesomeness can still be found within each and every bottle of A1. However, their advertising speaks to a completely different class of person, one which shares a single characteristic with the 19th Century European Royalty for whom the sauce was concocted, an appreciation for sexual congress between first cousins.
Although this last commercial cannot truly be counted among the A1 Canon, if it were, it would be under the heading “Commercials We Like.”
Promethean Times 