Monday, February 27, 2006
1. The Rocky Mountain Douglas-fir for its obtuse conversation
2. The Bigcone Douglas-fir for its long association with the Rocky Mountain Douglas-fir
3. The Alpine Spruce for its disappointing performance in the men’s decathlon
4. The Bristlecone Pine for lying in wait to ambush Giblets for four thousand years
5. The Western Prickly Juniper for double-crossing Giblets, stranding him in Bangkok and handing over the emerald spider to Alfonse LaFarge and his cabal of undead ninja assassins
6. The Tamarack Larch for its small round seed cones, three-sided blue-green deciduous needles and ability to thrive in severe climactic conditions
7. The Giant Redwood for teaching Giblets to dream before falling over and crushing his house
Labels: true adventures
posted by Giblets at 10:38 PM
"Okay, first things first," says me. "As chairman of the island inventory subcommittee I move that we check on our supplies."
"Motion seconded," says Giblets. "One desert island, check!"
"One palm tree, check!" says me.
"One coconut, check!" says Giblets.
"Well that's everything," says me. "Any new business?"
Giblets raises his hand. "As chairman of the survival subcommittee Giblets moves that we eat the coconut," says Giblets.
"Now Giblets we been over this before," says me. "As chairman of the entertainment subcommittee the coconut's made a lotta worthwhile contributions."
"The coconut has been useless!" says Giblets. "Its entertainment initiatives have been poor to middling at best. Sand checkers was a vast disappointment, sand hockey was a disaster, and the sand television project was distinctly underwhelming!"
"The coconut also found us that book," says me. "And books can take us on journeys of the imagination!"
"That book was Principles of Macroeconomics, and its journey of the imagination was boring and lame!" says Giblets.
"I'm Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke," says Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke, "and together we can travel to the magical world of aggregate choice!"
"Yknow Giblets its real easy to criticize but it’s not so easy to do somethin about it," says me. "What would you do to improve on the entertainment record of the coconut administration?"
"Well for starters we could eat the coconut," says Giblets. "Then we could juggle the two halves of the empty coconut."
"Well that's just ridiculous," says me. "The coconut is the only one of us who even knows how to juggle."
"Giblets finds the coconut's claims on the juggling issue highly suspect," says Giblets. "Giblets says we put coconut-eating to a vote!"
"Well alright then," says me. The vote goes one for and one against. The coconut abstains.
"Stupid coconut!" says Giblets. "It's never on Giblets's side!"
Giblets sighs and chews on the palm tree. The coconut just sits there.
"So what kinda hallucinatory food are you seein right now?" says me.
"Right now you appear to be an amiable talking ham," says Giblets.
"You look like several cans of vegetarian chili sorta stacked in the shape of you," says me.
"See that doesn't really work as well," says Giblets.
"Yeah I know," says me.
Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 9:13 PM
Annnnnnnd we're back! Back with the best readers ever! No no, we mean it, you guys really are the greatest. It's not just the life-saving and crazily generous donations talking. It is genuine love.
posted by fafnir at 6:48 PM
Thursday, February 23, 2006
As part of our ongoing mission to bring the best possible product to you the consumer, we here at Fafblog have spent the last several months poor, sick, and uninsured. Why? So that when we eventually write about it (“Single Payer Health Care Pie,” March 14; “Can’t Afford the Internet Pie” March 21; “Homeless and Destitute Pie,” April 23) we will have conducted the exhaustive research that our loyal readers demand.
So all this week we’ll be beggin our readers for money. Our initial goal is ten billion dollars, which should be just enough to pay for Little Jimmy’s new set a crutches an his organ transplant. You don’t wanna hurt Little Jimmy, do you, readers? He has to get up every mornin with his impoverished dust bowl era family an drag his iron lung down to the farm to pick bandwidth for the blog. You don’t have to donate to Little Jimmy, but if you don’t it means you have no soul.
This is also your chance to support the unique kinda programmin you only find on Fafblog, like our award-winning historical drama Muskets of the Civil War or our heartland travelogue series Travels With Giblets! Call now and support Fafblog with a pledge of ten dollars or more and you’ll get this free picture of a complimentary tote bag! If you are not donating please do not download the tote bag. It is an honor system tote bag.
posted by fafnir at 5:19 PM
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
You’re lost in the desert an you’re outta water an there’s jackals after you but it’ll all be worth it once you get over that next sand dune and reach the delicious desert pie on the other side. You’ve been headin towards it for a coupla hours now an it doesn’t really seem to be gettin any closer but that’s probably cause it’s one a those movin pies you heard about, like NASA’s orbital pielab or the rare South American walking pie. Maybe you just gotta run a little faster. Maybe you can sneak up on it or lure it into a clever pie trap. Maybe this is the deadly pie madness your colorful native guide warned you about.
“The desert pie, she plays tricks on the mind!” said your colorful native guide. “The heat and the sand and the wind bake a pie made of crazy which no man can capture – or resist! Turn back while you can, señor!” But if you stayed outta the desert you’d never find the lost Aztec treasure-pie of Quetzalcoatl, ritually sprinkled with gold dust and fed to the ancient Incan pastry-kings to bless them with immortality and long life and death by gold poisoning. And with this ancient crayon treasure map your friend the leprechaun just gave you you oughtta find the ancient temple in no time! Right after you get yourself some a this pie. You can almost taste it now, and it tastes like victory – hot, dry, sandy victory. “Go back, laddie! It ain’t worth it!” says the leprechaun. Oh, what do leprechauns know about pie anyway! Now all you need is some ice cream from that magical flyin camel over there an you’ll be sittin pretty.
posted by fafnir at 7:16 PM
Monday, February 20, 2006
Q. Why are we in Iraq?
A. For freedom! Recent intelligence informs us it is on the march.
Q. Hooray! Where's it marching to?
A. To set up a government of the people, by the people, for the people, and held in check by strict adherence to the laws of Islam.
Q. Huh! Freedom sounds strangely like theocracy.
A. No it doesn't! It is representative godocracy, in which laws are written by the legislative branch, enforced by the executive branch, and interpreted by an all-powerful all-knowing deity which manifests its will through a panel of senior clerics.
Q. Whew! Is democracy on the march?
A. Democracy was on the march. Sadly, freedom and democracy were caught in a blizzard and freedom was forced to eat democracy to survive.
Q. It died as it lived: sautéed in garlic sauce with a side of scalloped potatoes.
A. Democracy is survived by sectarian violence and fanaticism. In lieu of flowers, please send a coherent exit strategy.
Q. Why are we in Iraq?
A. Terror! By occupying Iraq we get Iraqis to fight us there so they won’t fight us at home.
Q. We've cleverly lured them to where they already were, only in terrorist form!
A. Now you're catching on!
Q. What if we can't kill all the terrorists in Iraq?
A. Then we'll invade somewhere else and trick 'em into attacking us there – only this time it'll be someplace really far away where they'll get stuck, like the ocean or the moon!
Q. I would totally watch Operation: Lunar Justice live on CNN!
A. Wolf Blitzer in a space helmet... it writes itself!
Q. There are more terrorists now than before the war. Is the occupation causing more terror?
A. Well, nobody can say for sure if that’s a man-made terror increase. It may just be a periodic shift in the natural terror cycle.
Q. Tell me more about this "not our fault" theory – I find it oddly compelling.
A. Like weather, terror is affected by seasonal fluctuations. The jet stream carries hijackers from continent to continent; El Niño causes suicide bombers to condense in the upper atmosphere. Is this affected by human activity or just part of a natural warming trend for terror? We just don't know!
Q. Your ideas are boldly nonconformist, yet conveniently reaffirm my desire to do nothing. I like it!
Q. Why are we in Iraq?
A. To remove Saddam Hussein's weapons of mass destruction.
Q. But he didn't have any weapons of mass destruction.
A. Maybe. But in a sense, Saddam Hussein was a weapon of mass destruction.
Q. Well, that's a pretty metaphorical –
A. And by that I mean his mustache was made of anthrax.
Q. Oh no!
A. His beret was stuffed full of yellowcake uranium! He detonated intercontinental ballistic missiles with the power of his brain! A half-kilo of Saddam Hussein could destroy ten city blocks when processed and rigged to a detonator the size of a baseball!
Q. I... I had no idea...
A. Now imagine if we'd let Saddam Hussein loose on the open market! Pakistani warehouses stockpiled with black market Saddam… North Korean Saddam reactors…
Q. Oh my god... Osama bin Laden would be putting together a suitcase Saddam bomb as we speak!
A: There but for the grace of war.
Q. Why are we in Iraq?
A. To prevent the failure of the occupation of Iraq. If we pull out now the occupation will be a failure!
Q. Would it have been easier to have never occupied it in the first place?
A. Ah, but if we never occupied Iraq, then the occupation certainly would have been a failure, now wouldn’t it?
Q. [meditates for many years]
Q. Now I am enlightened.
Q. The reason we're in Iraq seems to change every time I ask about it.
A. It's always the same reason. It just mutates in response to different stimuli in different environments.
Q. Like the bird flu! Oh my god – is it the bird flu?
A. Are you scared of the bird flu?
Q. Yes! Thousands of diseased Chinese chickens could explode from my febrile lungs at any moment!
A. Then yes, the cause of the war is bird flu!
Q. Oh no! What can we do to stop it!
A. For today, we can occupy Iraq.
Q. But tomorrow it could mutate again – into another reason to occupy Iraq!
A. That's just a chance we'll have to take.
posted by fafnir at 3:55 PM
Sunday, February 19, 2006
"There's no more soup in the world," says me. "There is only post-9/11 soup."
"It's true," says Giblets. "9/11 changed everything - even flavor."
"Five years ago this woulda tasted like delicious cream of mushroom," says me. "But now it tastes like the ever-present threat of terror."
"There is the tangy zest of war and the aftertaste of militant Islam and the hint of paprika!" says Giblets.
"I can no longer finish the soup I start," says me. "I stop an ask 'Are you as a soup bringin a relevant new perspective to our post-9/11 world'."
"And the answer is no!" says Giblets. "Giblets demands exploding stew and indefinitely detained chowder and bisque that will violate his most fundamental human rights!"
"I used to eat a cup a alphabet soup a day," says me. "But now my lunch is fraught with national security implications."
"H is for Hijack! I is for Islamism! J is for Jihad!" says Giblets.
"The meatballs represent their meaty need to destroy the west," says me.
"And all of it floating within the broth of an ummah-wide Islamofascist caliphate!" says Giblets.
"Is there any way to bridge the gap between civilization and soup?" says me.
"Impossible!" says Giblets. "Soup isn't just wrong, it's on the other side! Every hearty bite we take sends a fifth column of deliciousness to corrupt the guts of freedom!"
"That's why it's so important to approve the president's plan for electronic lunch surveillance," says me. "Right now your clam chowder could be a muslim and the government would never know!"
"Not enough!" says Giblets. "We need secret military soup prisons and crack teams of NSA wiretappers sealed inside every can of Campbell's chicken noodle!"
"But everytime our ideas come up they get squashed by the powerful lobbyists of Big Sanity," says me.
"Now there's nothing to stop 9/11 from happening again," says Giblets.
"Maybe even once a year," says me.
posted by fafnir at 7:29 PM
It's a great day for some light huntin an there's a flappin sound in the trees an Dick Cheney sees his shot and takes it. Oh no! That wasn't a pheasant - it was Iraq! How does he keep mixin those up, he really needs to get those bifocals his optometrist talked about. He decides not to call the police until trained medical technicians can perform an emergency oilectomy. In the meantime he heads out to look for a suspiciously Iran-shaped duck.
There's some good golf at Abu Ghraib an Dick Cheney's workin his way across the back nine when his swing goes wide an hits a few dozen of his favorite detainees repeatedly in the head, arms and legs before chainin em to the floor to die of exposure. Oh no! What has he done, how will he ever forgive himself, how come this happens every time he stops by a military prison! He decides not to call the police on accounta this ice cream headache he's got.
It's a bright spring afternoon an Dick Cheney's kickin back an relaxin with a good ol fashioned round of invasion an occupation when he accidentally kills thirty thousand Iraqi civilians. Oh no! It is the worst day of his life, why wasn't it him, God, why wasn't it - oh wait, it's just foreigners. Whew! He decides to skip callin the police an heads home to watch a coupla episodes a Law & Order, which is sorta like callin the police if you think about it.
posted by fafnir at 3:47 PM
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
posted by fafnir at 10:31 AM
Friday, February 10, 2006
By now you may have heard of the captured terrorist masterminds who nearly brought down Los Angeles’s Library Tower with a set of exploding footwear, or Iyman Faris, who craftily plotted to collapse the Brooklyn Bridge with a blowtorch. Devious schemes indeed, so cunning and deadly they could only be thwarted by the full and unchecked executive authority of a routine airport sneaker check. But even more terrorists have tried to strike at America within the past four years, evil geniuses of the al Qaeda network so quick and so clever it took all the power at the president’s disposal to stop their infernal machinations. The Medium Lobster has been granted the exclusive privilege to share just a few with you, our loyal readers.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 11:15 PM
Look out – it’s the clash of civilizations! Oh, you thought it was just a tiny percentage of the global Muslim population rioting at embassies over a couple lame cartoons, but you were wrong… oh so terribly wrong! For this is a war, my minions. A war between East and West, Muslim and Christian, Islamofascist werewolf-Nazi hybrids who feast on buckets of baby blood versus the shining white knights of beatific Christobushian Freeocracy!
It is a clash of civilizations which can only be resolved by violent bloodshed! Look at these Muslim fanatics, which Giblets will henceforth refer to as “Muslinatics.” All it took was one insult to their lunatic religion to reduce them to bloodthirsty savages! Well, that and decades of being treated like second-class citizens. But that’s all it takes – just one insult and decades of second-class citizenship! And confinement to poverty-stricken ghettos. Just one insult, decades of second-class citizenship, and confinement to poverty-stricken ghettos! Oh, and the Iraq War. All it takes to get these people to resort to violence is one insult, decades of second-class citizenship, confinement to poverty-stricken ghettos, and a half-assed scheme to bomb them into democracy. Giblets’s point is, these are bloodthirsty savages who kill at the drop of a hat! When Giblets’s countrymen kill you can be sure it is purely for the sake of exporting freedom and democracy to the oppressed. And if the oppressed don’t like it they can go back to their second-class ghettos before we bomb them into democracy again!
It’s time to stand up and fight back before these scimitar-wielding Mohammedans destroy the peaceful, tea-and-doily-loving folk of Christendom with their fearsome curved blades! The only solution is to treat them like second-class citizens, shut them up in ghettos, and bomb them into democracy - before they can Muslify us all! Then we can get back to rioting over civilized, Western issues, like racism, blackouts, and the superbowl.
posted by Giblets at 8:53 PM
So earlier this week an innocent PR flack lost his job at NASA all because he stood up to oppressive orthodox scientists by telling em they had to imply the big bang didn’t happen. And because he tried to stifle a climate scientist and lied about flunkin outta college on his resume. But let’s go back to the big bang! Why isn’t NASA talkin about alternative explanations, like intelligent design and theoretical Jesumatology? If NASA sticks to the same ol big bang theory, we’re just stuck explorin borin ol planets an moldy ol black holes. But fresh new alternative theories have lead to NASA’s most excitin exploratory mission in the last few years: launchin a space probe into God.
NASA’s Falwell-7 capsule is scheduled to hit the Godian surface in late 2006, greatly advancing our knowledge of theoretical Godstronomy. There’s no telling what age-old scientific riddles we might answer! Is God made outta pure holiness an communion wafers or does he have an iron-nickel core? Does God have water deposits and a breathable atmosphere? Did God condense out of the same nebular gas as our own sun billions a years ago or did he drift into orbit shortly after the formation of the earth? We have so much to learn!
Now I know what you’re thinkin. You’re thinkin “Sure the God Probe’s gonna be good for pure Godmological science, but what’s it gonna do for me?” Well you can bet there’ll be plenty a practical applications for all the fascinatin discoveries we make, like harnessing the power of Holy Ghostions for quick bread-to-Jesus conversion, or making devil-resistent tank armor outta new Godmium alloys. We could even mine God’s surface to provide a source of cheap, renewable holiness that could help eliminate America’s dependence on foreign oil! In just a couple years you could safely drive to work in a Jesus-powered car on the very first God colony.
But none a that can happen if NASA decides to ban Godmological studies. And that doesn’t just mean budget cuts for promising new programs like the Angel Rover, the Superconducting Saint Collider and the underwater Satan’s Nostrilmarine. It also means canceling America’s first manned mission to God – and letting the Russians get there first so they can turn Jesus into a communist, just like Karl Marx always wanted. “Ho ho, a specter is haunting Europe,” says cryogenically-frozen Karl Marx Head, “and it is the specter of Commie Space Jesus!” Don’t let Frozen Marx Head win, America! Free God now!
Labels: super science
posted by fafnir at 6:38 PM
Sunday, February 5, 2006
"What if it's not really a picture of Mohammed," says me, "just a picture of a picture of Mohammed?"
"Metablasphemy!" says Giblets. "It is sacrilegious and pretentious!"
"What if it just looks like a picture a Mohammed but it's really a picture a Jesus wearin a real good Mohammed costume?" says me.
"Then it is pretend blasphemy," says Giblets. "God can't tell the difference. He has to smite you just to make sure."
"What if Mohammed's goin on a trip an hasta get a new passport picture?" says me.
"Then God smites the DMV," says Giblets. "If Mohammed wants to fly on a plane he can be checked at the baggage counter or safely stowed in the overhead compartment like all the other prophets."
"When Mohammed goes missin his mom can't put his face on a milk carton," says me.
"Instead of a photo she gives the police a collection of ornate arabesques," says Giblets. "The resulting tri-county search for lost and wayward calligraphy is slow and inefficient at best."
"Meanwhile Mohammed's stuck in the woods in a bear trap fightin off armies a hungry squirrels," says me.
"Ironically he is prepared and eaten by observant Sunni squirrels according to strict halaal practices," says Giblets. "They just figure he's probably Habbakuk or Shmosiah, the loser prophets."
"Mohammed decides to raise his profile by miraculously appearing in a bowl of tapioca," says me. "But he is quickly mistaken for Pudding Jesus."
"The nearby Jesus chowder is enraged and demands an apology from the pudding impostor!" says Giblets. "Harsh words lead to harsher actions. Bowls clash, soup spills! War is declared!"
"If only Sandwich Buddha were here to save us!" says me.
"But he was too enlightmelicious for this world," says Giblets, "especially when purchased as a special value meal with a twelve-ounce coke and a bag of chips."
"Will God ever forgive us for eating his bready bodhisattva?" says me.
"As long as we never draw his picture," says Giblets.
posted by fafnir at 12:07 PM