June 23, 2004

• The Levity Vortex

  I may have a blog of my own to post later today, but meanwhile I just
  want to share some of the giggles that have been going around here
  lately.  Both of my men are in high (or LOW) comedy mode
  currently, and I’ve been getting lots of giggles.  I also get to
  pass them along both ways in my phone conversations with Greyfox. 

  For Greyfox’s part, he has been working on a new serial even funnier
  (we all think), and certainly more topical and timely, than his old Melody Andrewsdottir, Lady Shaperson (of the female persuasion) to the Rich and Fatuous,
  the collection of egregious injokes, outrageous puns and uproarious
  physical comedy (quite a trick in and of itself, in a Xeroxed
  newsletter), that ran for years in The Shaman Papers.

  The protagonist of this new serial will be Captain Blogfodder.  I
  get credit for his name.  Blogfodder is the word I coined to refer
  to–well blog fodder, of course:  ideas to blog about.  If
  someone else has already coined that word, I’ll share credit and we can
  credit spontaneous synchronous generation.  It’s MY word!

  For a while, he had a sidekick, but then he morphed into more of a
  loner along the lines of Spiderman.  We don’t know when Greyfox
  will get a chance to blog the Captain, but he’s scribbling notes on a
  daily basis, notes that frequently even he cannot read.

  Having teased you with a mere scent of Capt. BF,  I’ll share some
  of what Doug has been writing.  This is today’s post in the beta
  test he’s participating in, of a new tournament system.  Online
  fanfic writing tournaments are his primary creative outlet at this time.

  The character he is portraying in Another Damn Beta of Another Damn Tournament is Bam Margera of Jackass. 
  In round one, a rule was posted that, “pants may not be
  destroyed.”  Doug protested that it would be in character for Bam
  to destroy pants.  For Doug to be protesting a rule against
  destroying pants is perfectly in-character for him, and consequently
  funny to me, since I’m privy to several instances where he has gotten
  everything from FOFLMAOs and kudos to slaps on the wrist for his risque
  writing.

  The rule was amended, so that only Bam can destroy pants.  Subsequently and consequently, he devised:

  
  a giant denim-mache bust of Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard as
  Locutus of Borg as Marilyn Monroe as the Bride of Frankenstein doing
  her impression of Lon Chaney as the Wolfman.
  
  

  The action here takes place in Garden State Plaza, New Jersey.

  
  
  
  “It is finished! The one true device of horror and destruction… The BUSTINATOR! …I mean, uh… RAWK!”
  
  
  
  The
  giant denim-mache bust had been completed. Inside it were several
  devices of fiendish complexity and fell purpose. And a shopping cart.
  Opening a cleverly-concealed door in the back of
  Stewart-Picard-Locutus-Marilyn-BoF-Chaney-Wolfman’s head, Bam climbed
  into the shopping cart and set the great bust a-rolling. He immediately
  steered it into the decorative pond.
  
  
  
  “RAWK!”
  
  
  
  5 minutes
  later… (Possible BGM: Ima Robot; “A is for Action”, Fear Factory;
  “Smasher/Devourer” or Love Hina Opening Theme “Sakurasaku”)
  
  
  
  “Like, oh my GAWD, what’s that big blue THING coming toward us?” screamed a hysterical Bimbo Girl.
  
  
  
  “Oh my gawd, is that Uma Thurman?” asked another.
  
  
  
  “No
  *snerk*, it’s Jean-Luc Picard as Locutus of Borg *snort*. Why he’s got
  that wig and *sniff* mole I don’t know, though.” replied a nearby nerd
  seconds before being trashcanned by a gangsta.
  
  
  
  “Dog, you
  trippin’. That be the motherfucking Brizzle de Frizzle in the
  motherfucking hizouse. Don’ know about that mole or dat mighty bling
  she got goin’ on, though.”
  
  
  
  “Pardon me, doooog, but don’t all you
  mangs mean, ‘in the mizall’?” interrupted a Preppie before being
  silenced by a piece of thrown bling.
  
  
  
  I don’t know about you,
  ladies, but I’m out of here as fast as my feet can carry little old me,
  since it’s COMING THIS WAY!” screamed a flamboyantly gay man.
  
  
  
  Amid
  screams, pandemonium, gunshots, chaos, bling, and entropy, the
  BUSTINATOR rumbled on, one wobbly wheel rattling on the tile. Inside,
  Bam cackled maniacally and pulled a lever.
  
  
  
  “This world is built
  on LOVE! AND! PEA SOUP!” With a horrid grinding noise and a sound like
  a bathroom full of toilets backing up, pea soup gushed from the mouth
  of the denim juggernaut, splattering Preppies, Bimbo Girls, Gangstas,
  Rentacops, and the rare innocent shopper alike.
  
  
  
  “Oh my GAWD! This is, like, worse than that party I went to with all those Japanese businessmen!” ejaculated a Bimbo Girl.
  
  
  
  “Oh my god, what kind of party?” asked another.
  
  
  
  “Well,
  there was supposed to, like, be cake there, I think it was buck cake or
  something, but I was totally bummed ‘cus all there was was this cold
  rice and, like, raw fish shit and then, oh my god, they made me take my
  top off and then…”
  
  
  
  She was cut off by a fresh wave of legume
  chowder, followed by a donut slick ejected from the rear of the vehicle
  designed to throw off the Rentacops. Hornet found its wheels slipping
  uselessly in the slippery green gunk, and Magus and Kell were suddenly
  covered in it, along with several other competitors.
  
  
  
  “Merciful Morningstar, what is that denim gargantua doing?” murmured one black-clad figure lurking by the restrooms.
  
  
  
  “I
  don’t know, but the miasma surrounding it is… delicious. The screams
  of the weak, the bilious green of its discharge, the beautiful fright
  wig atop its gestalt of a head… Is this the sign from our dark master
  that it is our -time- to -invade-?” muttered another.
  
  
  
  “It must
  be,” whispered a third, “the signs are there. Behold the Unholy Mole,
  the Bewitching Stare of the Cybernetic Eye, the Distraction of the
  Lawful…”
  
  
  
  “Hail the denim!”
  
  
  
  “Hail the denim!”
  
  
  
  “Hail the denim!”
  
  
  
  Then,
  the BUSTINATOR ground to a halt next to a raccoon in a stylish red hat.
  A hand popped out of one ear of the bust, tossing a piece of biscotti
  to the surprised animal.
  
  
  
  “Rock on, little furry dude! Don’t wash
  it in the pond, though, use a cup of coffee!” Bam flashed the
  rock-n-roll devil horns through the ear as the BUSTINATOR rumbled to
  life again and trundled forward about 20 feet before the shaky wheel
  finally locked and sent it crashing into a Pretzel Time stall.
  
  
  
  Shakily,
  Bam crawled out of the back of the denim monstrosity, clutching a donut
  in one hand and still with the rock horns formed by his other hand.
  Then he saw it. On the second level, shining like a holy relic of the
  underculture:
  
  
  
  “Quiksilver, Boardrider’s Club, Hawk Skate“
  
  
  
  “RAWK!”
  
  
  
  Tapping
  into his ancient MNK training, Bam ran up the air and to the door of
  the skate shop, where he began signing boards that people had bought. A
  few were even boards with his name on them to begin with.
  
  
  
  “That man…” murmured the black-clad figures.
  
  
  
  “He controlled the denim…”
  
  
  
  “He must be -Our Dark Master-”
  
  
  
  “VIVA LE BAM!”
  
  
  
  “VIVA LE DARK!”
  
  
  
  “VIVA LE -PANTS-!”
  
  

  • 3:51 pm
  • 4 Comments