Where do we stand on this?
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Where do we stand on this?
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
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So little time was devoted to the Supplement Situation during the presidential debates… I’m not sure I even know what the issues are.
The Supplement Situation is so serious, Congress had to investigate.
Here’s a primer.
They’re Supplemental issues, is what they are. We have them by mistake.
The real mistake is letting the good stuff languish in the back of the bottom drawer.
Well, for me the question is: what supplements are needed in this situation, and are we prepared for however this situation should develop?
We should call in the Wolf. If he could handle the Bonnie Situation, he can defuse the Supplement Situation.
What concerns me is McSweeney’s. A disturbing tendency, there.
I have no idea what in the hell is going on here. No idea at all. In jokes are all fine and good until you’re not in any more.
I thought it was just me. Although I get this one.
Take A.N.,E., O.P. On the one hand, there’s Angelico, the very sweet Dominican kid, who happens to be sharp attorney with strong literary inclinations. On the other hand, there’s Angelico this … kid, really—just out of his teenage years … made a bad decision earlier this week and took a hit of acid (supplement!) and then types out the likes of the above. Which makes sense only to all the other tripmasters who hang out at this blog.
Well guys, I don’t do acid anymore. So somebody, please, break down this crazy dreamworld for the uninitiated.
Or Angelico, the really bad, even dangerous evil genius, who with his warped intelligence is bent on turning our minds into whipped butter, all the better to butter his toast with.
Or Angelico, the soft-spoken, mild-mannered gentleman of slight build and sleight comportment, who is in fact an envoy from a civilization in a different dimension and only the first of our future overlords.
It’s clear that you don’t take acid anymore. You take meth.
It was the only way to get my apartment cleaned up.
Speed kills.
Is that the Heisenberg principle?
I’m not sure.
Did you hear the one about the time the traffic cop pulled Heisenberg over for speeding?
The cop says, ‘Do you have any idea how fast you were going?’
Heisenberg says, ‘No, but I know exactly where I was.’
I told that joke to my freshman physics students at Brandeis (Fisher School) and it broke the ice very well.
I told that joke to my husband and then asked him to explain it to me. True story.
Sorry, sisterhood. I do what I can.
I did the same thing as S.E., and got a little lesson on the Uncertainty Principle. And now I (kinda) get the joke. Somehow I made it through 20 years of formal education and never studied physics (but I did take, and pass, calculus twice)
So, did the cop’s observation of Heisenberg’s speed alter the reading on the radar gun?
THE EMPIRE NEVER ENDED.
What is The Matrix?
Xenu is kid’s stuff.
I used to be a situational supplementalist myself.
The situation being, “I feel the need for a supplement.”
In other news, I woke up on Thanksgiving morning with a very dirty but, I thought, very funny cartoon in my head. I drew it, showed it to the Wife, and she laughed. I then considered posting it to the Supplemental, but then realized that I didn’t have posting privileges over there. Probably for the best.
I do think it was funny, though.
Angelico is our Saul Goodman.
Being from (near) the Jersey Shore, I’m well aware that The Situation is always in need of a supplement and so took certain steps to make sure that my stamp and lionel train swap meet/trading post would fit the bill. I just didn’t think anyone would find out…
JOB
Of course when someone came in to trade a Wabash and tender for the Samuel Gompers (1950) block of four, I had to say, “Well, shit man, show me a few Canal Zone beauties and I’ll see what I got!” (I let him know that I had some pre-China built Burlington and Northerns – and we’re not talking the diesels here, either – in the back room but I didn’t let on that I hadn’t seen a NY-built Wabash since Dean Acheson pissed away China – and threw in most of the rest of Southeast Asia for good measure. That’s when he took out the souvenir Washington Senators baseball bat and screamed, “Screw you! Cordell Hull was a Sodomite!”
The last thing I saw was my own blood spreading like a liquified liver pate across the bluish glass of the display case and the Washington Monument drawn in green ink on the souvenir sheet of the Sixth International Philatelic Exhibition, Washington D.C, (1966) – signed by Laurence O’Brien (U.S. Postmaster General at the time).
When I came to, everything was cleared out – except of course the uninverted Jennys.
The fucker.
JOB
I have no idea what in the hell is going on here. No idea at all. In jokes are all fine and good until you’re not in any more.
You haven’t been snooping enough.